#these r like the best characters i’ve ever seen
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mulderrrrrrr · 1 year ago
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my and my close friend watched otgw a couple days ago and i’ve become obsessed….. 🍂
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padfootastic · 2 years ago
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hi there! First of all I want to mention that my ask doesn't contain racism or prejudice. What do you think about Indian James ? No matter how much I thought, I could not find the root. Maybe I have missed something in canon? Or is it a simple fanon thing? Also once again I want to say that my ask doesn't contain racism and I would NEVER EVER INSULT anyone.
hello friend!
uhh tbh, i have no idea where it stems from. i’ve seen some people argue that potter can be an anglicised version of some indian surnames, others argue that there’s some race-coding (but u couldn’t ask me to expand on that—i have no clue) but i mainly think it’s just a matter of representation tbh. people wanted a character of color and we got a v prominent desi potters situation lol.
re what i think about it: if i’m being brutally honest, i am…not a fan. but that’s mainly because i don’t really like identity headcanons in general (i very rarely see them done well, to my taste) and it also messes w my escapism real bad. to be clear, i’m not saying it’s bad or anything, and i’ll never shit on anyone who likes it, but it’s just not my cup of tea. i think the desi thing hits harder too. i’ve also seen some fics where the authors, despite being very very good-intentioned fuck up the cultural aspect of it so bad it makes me cringe 😭😭 but also, it makes me wonder if that’s how british people feel when us non-brits butcher their stuff so i always try to be graceful when that happens lol
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m-ilkiee · 1 month ago
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E-boys Ruined my Life: Toxic! Megumi Fushiguro x Fem Reader
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Chapter 1: Love at First Sight
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[series summary]: you had a crush on Megumi for so long, you hoped you would meet him again. But now, as you stand before him, you realize that Fushiguro Megumi is not the same kid as he was at fifteen- he was taller, broader and far more handsome than ever. And a whole lot meaner to you.
[synopsis]: Being friends with the IT GIRLS as a first year has a lot of perks; new friends, a popularity boost and crossing paths constantly with your high school crush after many years apart, Megumi Fushiguro. this is a heavily edited and revised chapter.
[cw]: DARK CONTENT, NSFW, aged up characters, classism - elitism, sexism/misogyny, unhealthy body image, violence, mentions of bullying and suicidal ideation, slut shaming, objectification, parasocial relationships, gaslighting, manipulation, sex between characters, brief mention of teenagers fooling around.
[r-18+] (not suitable for 17 and under)
[wc] 13.5k
[masterlist] [chapter 2] [taglist] [playlist] [main]
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  THERE’S just something so thrilling about having positive attention.
Each step you take down the campus quad has heads turning your way in awe. Decked in original pink juicy couture tracks, white Nike sneakers with pink highlights and your white hermes bag hanging off your arm, you strutted onwards with your head held up high. Everything about you screamed perfection, from your proper posture to your brand new hair-do, to your freshly microbladed brows, to your light ‘clean girl’ makeup that accented your best features, down to new manipedi you got.
Things you took care of no matter how much pain or discomfort you were in. And it was worth every hot wax pulled off your skin.
All eyes were on you, stopping in their tracks just to admire your beauty. You could hear whistles and compliments being thrown at you from all sides, but you pay no mind to them, instead scanning the surroundings until you spot a familiar blue haired girl sitting at the edge of the quad with the other girls. She notices you as well, breaking into a smile as she waves you over and you make your way to their spot excitedly, plopping yourself on the bench besides your friends.
The IT girls of Wilhelm Baldwin University; that’s what the school dubbed your group, made up of the most popular girls in the school.
“Honestly, you’re one of the only people who I’ve seen wear a tracksuit and still look hot with it.” the blue haired girl, Miwa, spoke, her eyes admiring your outfit. She was the sweetest girl you’ve ever met, coming from humble beginnings and doing everything she could to support her family as the sole breadwinner.
She started creating lifestyle and baking content on her tik tok as a way to pass time when she was bored, only for her to grow big overnight, appearing on shows, tours and other events. Now she settled to go to school, wanting an education and she makes lifestyle content about her chaotic days in university.
Everyone knew her as the nice girl of the group, always willing to let people down gently and helping people who asked. To outsiders Miwa was a saint. To the inner workings of your group, she could be a little misguided and thick headed at times. Despite all that, she’s your closest friend and the first ever person you met on college campus, long before you became popular.
“It’s juicy couture Miwa. Of course it’s gonna look good. Well on someone as hot as (name).” A blonde haired girl who was sitting across added. 
Momo Nishimiya, a trust-fund baby whose parents practically own the legal world in the palm of their hands. With her father as a rather influential senator and her mother as the chief justice of the nation, Momo is set for life. You never let her five foot appearance fool you; just like her parents she was vicious, smart and could pull just the right strings to get people to do what she wanted.
Not even her dad was safe. The cherry red sports’ car sitting in the school’s parking lot is a testament of how convincing she could be.
You’re glad she was an ally and not an enemy.
“I’m just shocked that new money is finally wearing something original.” the girl with the short green hair sitting next to Momo says with a sly grin, her mocking tone grinding your gears.
Mai Zenin, the leader of the group and the bane of your fucking existence. Coming from a long line of generational wealth of the Zenin’s, Mai is the President of the biggest sorority in the nation, the Zeta house, a business major at the top of her class and an olympic gold medalist in the shooting range category.
It didn’t help that she was also gorgeous and her pores were effortlessly clear, because by god was she infuriating and you wished there was just something you could say to knock her down a peg.
Cocking her head sideways, Mai’s pink lips curled up into a smirk as she placed her chin on her propped up hand. “It is real Juicy Couture, right?”
“It is real.” You quip back in a sickly sweet voice, returning a strained smile and resisting the urge to just jump her. “I thought old money could recognize real from fake, guess you’re not that good at spotting the difference.”
And then there is the newest addition to the group, you, (name) (last name). From the generous nickname Mai gave you, you’re new money after your mother married your step-father, a highly controversial marriage to the media. Being the youngest and only freshman to ever join the group without being in Mai’s sorority, you’ve garnered attention within just months of entering the university.
You would think you would have done something noteworthy for the entire school to notice you; but no that’s not what happened.
You’re popular because you’re the hottest girl on campus.
No seriously.
There was a stupid ranking of the hottest freshman girl and you won. Not a sorority sister or some girl rushing for a sorority, nor a much more wealthy socialite who had years of money to keep looking hot. You assumed that with the world’s weird beauty standards you would barely be noticed, which was fine, but somehow the university decided they liked you and they liked the way you looked.
You went from being a homebody glued to your screen to being invited out by other girls to gatherings, getting free things on campus and being asked out every 3-7 business days.
And who was Mai to ignore the opportunity of a rising star?
Mai laughed at your clap back, her eyes sparkling with interest as she leaned back on the picnic chair. “Don’t be mad at me, I saved you from a scandal by giving you valid criticism. Imagine if the tabloids caught you wearing fake Vancleef, ‘(Last name) - Nanami caught wearing a dupe, is the mother-daughter duo still stuck with their penny pinching ways?’ Is that the kind of news you’d want following you around, new money?”
You gritted your teeth in frustration, recalling exactly how you got into that mess which heavily involved Mai Zenin. “You were the one who sent me to that store in the first place.”
“I was trying to teach you how to tell what’s a dupe and what’s not. And it’s paying off. You look so much better in original clothes.”
“Why you-”
“Ladies enough! Hearing about dupes makes my head hurt.” Momo cuts in, ending the argument before it could escalate any further. Both you and Mai instantly back down from the heated argument, still glaring down at each other. “And where is that pledge with our drinks? I’m really not in the mood to get through the day without my fix of espresso.”
“You’re just antsy cause you pulled an all-nighter with some project.” Mai teased her blonde friend, suddenly in a good mood again. “I told you to give that shit to some poor nerd who needs the money to do it for you.”
“I’d rather not. Most of them are so mediocre in their academic papers, it makes my skin crawl -”
You tune out the rest of their conversation, not wanting to hear the two girls talk about how poor people are dumb losers and how much better they are compared to people of lower class, picking up your phone and going straight to instagram. Mindlessly, you scrolled through your feed, only liking pictures of hot guys, your friends and food content, really nothing out of the ordinary with your feed.
Sometimes you wonder if this was going to be your college experience.
You had barely just entered school and already you were at the top of the food chain, which was good for you. Being the newest socialite, you knew it would be hard for anyone to respect you. 
It was different for someone like Miwa, who made the money by herself. She had more respect from wealthy people, than you who by proxy inherited it by your mother marrying into money.
Your dumb luck has saved you from being known as the gold digger’s daughter and you’re grateful for it.
Anyone would kill to be in your position right now and yet, you feel like you’re wasting away. There are so many restrictions attached to the lifestyle you’re living, so many clubs you can’t join because you let Mai dictate what you can or can’t do.
“The Wilhelm Baldwin University Theatre is inviting you to our play production, Legally Blonde on 26th Nov 2024.”
You hover on the instagram post on your school’s official account, staring at it sadly as you think about your situation. Something twists in your heart at the e-poster, a solemn smile making its way to your face. A distant past where you would have jumped at the opportunity to be involved in the arts flashes back into your mind.
‘Perhaps there is truly a price for fame and popularity…’
“Hey, isn’t that the play by the University’s theatre club?”
You’re quickly snapped out of your thoughts by Miwa, but soon your shock turns to annoyance when you realise she was looking into your phone while you were distracted. Before you could reprimand her, Mai and Momo quickly shifted their attention to what she had said, clearly interested in the newest information, their faces twisted into ugly smirks.
“Those Juillard wannabees are hosting a play? That’s rich. What are they gonna do? Another shitty rendition of Romeo and Juliet?”
You internally cringe at Mai’s scornful tone but you couldn’t deny her words. Your school’s theatre program is rather underfunded, putting more money in your cheer team, football squad and fraternities. Only people either on scholarships or who are currently knee-deep in college debt make up the majority of the program's occupants.
Another difference between class divisions in this school.
Before you could say anything to change the topic, Momo snatches your phone from your hand and takes a good look at the poster. “They’re doing Legally Blonde?? These bottom feeders are literally cosplaying a socialite. Be for real”
The two girls burst into laughter, nearly knocking over your expensive iphone as if it’s the funniest thing on earth. Miwa bites her lip, a look of guilt crossing over her face the moment she sees your fists clenched underneath the table in annoyance. You’re quick to take slow deep breaths, counting from one - ten as the two older girls continued to berate the play between scornful laughter.
“Wait wait, let's check the casting…” Mai says between gasps, scrolling to see the people playing the characters. A feeling of dread washes down your body when you see her sneer at the first picture. “Hana Kurusu is the person they picked to be THE Elle Woods? THEY picked a girl who wears shoes from goodwill to play Elle woods? Who casted this?”
‘I’m pretty sure they don’t base their criteria for casting based on where you get shoes from’
“She’s not even close to being hot.” Momo adds, her tone tinged with pure disgust. “I can’t believe they picked her.”
“Maybe she’s a good actress.” Miwa says in a dead tone, trying to salvage the situation. The older girls look at Miwa as if she’s grown two heads, before sighing and shaking their heads like she’s an impetuous child. “Look, Miwa-chan, I know you’re a sweetheart but you know none of those theatre kids have any talent. They take in anyone, ANYONE. New money can agree with me on this one.”
All eyes turned to you, expectant of your answer. Anxiousness creeps onto your skin as the spotlight is put on you, all your anger dissipating as Mai’s gaze burns deep into your soul, waiting for you to agree with her. As much as you’re usually going toe to toe with Mai, you know your spot with the IT girls was still tentative. This is one of the arguments that could make or break you; while she loves being challenged, Mai will never forgive you if you show sympathy for any person she considers beneath her status.
On one hand, you could risk Mai genuinely hating you and making her your enemy by telling her the truth, that Hana truly has more talent than Mai ever will.
On the other hand…
You plucked your phone from Momo’s hand, taking a good look at the picture before throwing your phone aside dramatically, gagging in disgust. “Ewwww, that’s the girl that wears that ugly sweater from Costco three times a week. I hope her acting isn't as ugly as her fashion sense.”
Your comment breaks the tension, making the three girls - yes even Miwa - bark with laughter, nearly losing their minds at your reaction, sealing the deal. You settle into a small smile as the pledge brings your drinks to the table, placing your frappuccino in front of you. You carefully sip your drink, washing down the bitter taste of guilt with its sweetness.
‘Keep your friends close and wealthy friends with connections closer.’
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   ZENIN Megumi hated Trending Tuesdays on the T with a burning passion.
He hated a lot of things, to be fair, but this was at the top of the list of things he hated. It was like a dick measuring contest that some of his classmates did in high school, only on a much larger scale involving a bunch of grown adults who should be doing something better than watching the latest trend on a thinly veiled gossip blog masquerading as the school’s website.
The fraternity usually got louder during Trending Tuesdays, hollering about the newest girl they considered hot and who was not or what guy did the craziest thing. Usually on these kinds of days, Megumi would go up to his private room and smoke whilst blasting music or playing League of Legends, but now as the president of his fraternity, he has responsibilities. He has to be present, even if it killed him on the inside, at least to encourage this stupid bonding activity or whatever his vice-president, Yuuji Itadori told him.
“Aren’t you going to show the slightest interest in Trending Tuesdays?”
Speak of the devil.
Megumi turns his attention from the book he’s reading, “The Godfather” to Yuuji Itadori. The pink haired man had always been there for him since Megumi moved schools; even as he fell into deeper darkness as he spent more time with the Zenins, he and that crazy bitch Nobara stood beside him. Yuuji was the more fun one, much more cut out to be the president of the Fraternity in Megumi’s opinion, even though he’d say otherwise. He has been so invested in Trending Tuesdays as a tradition and perhaps that’s why he wants Megumi to be more involved this year.
“You want me to huddle over a phone with other guys to see what girl half of the fraternity will jerk off to tonight?” Megumi crosses his arms. He knows he’ll cave eventually because it’s Yuuji, but he’s not going to make it easy for him either. “Isn’t my presence while this madness is going on in the common room enough?”
“Come onnnn! Toge’s gonna put it on the TV anyways so you won’t have to rub shoulders with people” Yuuji groans childishly, making the dark haired man roll his eyes in response. Sometimes his friend can be so irritating whenever he wants him to do something, especially if it involves socialising with people. “We just have one more year before we graduate, aren’t you in the slightest curious about it?”
“No.”
“But it’s like a team bonding exercise! Besides, you might see a girl you’ll actually like in this school.”
Megumi almost wants to laugh at Yuuji’s statement. It’s just as ridiculous as the elders in the Zenin family who keep insisting for him to at least have a main girl so that the future of their bloodline is secure. Only that Yuuji thinks that Megumi is only sleeping with different girls cause he hasn’t found the right one yet.
At least the Zenin’s are not naïve to his real intentions.
“As long as it's not school sanctioned, I don’t care.”
His blunt tone deflates Yuuji’s cheerful mood once more and for a brief moment Megumi thinks he’s worn Yuuji down, returning to read his book in peace.
“PleasePleasePleasePleasePlease-”
Sick of Yuuji’s incessant nagging, the dark haired man barked out “I’m coming, I’m coming!” throwing the novel aside and storming off, Yuuji following behind with a shit eating grin.
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  THE second he enters the common room, the once chattering room goes silent.
Megumi isn’t new to his frat brothers fearing him. He is not a particularly friendly face with his usual grumpy expression and towering height, and he has the personality to match, quiet with a stern personality. It could be his policies that make them instantly shape up whenever he is around, scared that he’d lash out at them at any moment or expel them for the slightest mistake.
It’s not like their fears are unfounded though. But he only punishes annoyances and as long as they stay out of his way and his room, they’re safe.
They clear the way for him and Yuuji, letting them walk to the largest chair in the common room, greetings of “Good day President” “Good day vice-president” echoing throughout the room. Yuuji is the only one that responds, telling them to loosen up. “We’re just here for trending Tuesdays. No one’s gonna get in trouble today for being rowdy, right, Zenin?”
“We’ll see.”
A white haired male was already perched on their usual seat, brows pinched in concentration as he connected his phone's bluetooth to the television. The man raised his head, his sour expression quickly turning to shock when he saw Megumi standing in front of him. He looked from Megumi  to Yuuji, discarding his phone to put a hand in front of his face, bending his fingers in and out, his lips mimicking Megumi’s usual grouchy frown.
“How the hell did you get Mr. Grumpy out of his room for Trending Tuesday? You didn’t offer him a free fuck like one of his whores, right?”
Megumi felt his eye twitch as Yuuji snorted at the comment. before rapidly signing back. “Fuck you, Toge.”
Toge rolled his eyes at Megumi in response, before moving aside so that he and Yuuji could sit and the common room goes back to their chattering as before when they realise Megumi wasn’t doing any official duties today.
Toge Inumaki was a senior majoring in robotics engineering, their fraternities treasurer, as well as a grade one menace to society.
People make the mistake of assuming he’s a quiet guy because he doesn’t say anything and think he’s this sort of mysterious and cool person who keeps to himself, not knowing that he’s mute, deaf in his right ear and partially deaf in his left, always donning his hearing aids. Toge doesn’t bother clearing up the rumours, rather taking glee in watching people try to get close to him to get him to ‘open up’, only to be horrified when they realise his disability and feel immense guilt right after.
Yuuji had tried talking him out of it, but he defended his actions with, “That’s what they get for treating me like a social experiment. They wanna be friends with the quiet rich kid to get favours.”
Megumi doesn’t blame him. Ever since meeting Toge, when he moved high schools, he knew that people either treat him as the introverted project they want to take on or the poor disabled kid who no one understands, but never a human being.
Sometimes, people would straight up not believe him that he can’t hear them without his aid because he’s “too cute to be disabled”.
Even his parents are weird around him, never once attempting to learn sign language themselves since it would be too ‘tasking’.
It hasn’t damped Toge’s sense of humour regardless. Anyone who knows Toge and knows sign language knows that the white haired man is a talkative with a filthy mouth. He’s a prankster and pledges are advised to avoid him, seeing as they’re the most susceptible to his rather cruel jokes.
Girls seem to like him though, if the irritating screams of pleasure that keeps everyone else up at night every time he has a study partner were anything to go by.
Toge goes straight to the school’s website, the T and the website comes up, a large TRENDING TUESDAY typed in cursive letters was at the top of the blog post. Realising that he was out of his element, Megumi turns to Yuuji to ask “So how does this work again?”
“Well, trending Tuesdays are all about who is or are the most influential students in school today. Whether it’s pranks, or the cutest couple or even someone that did something impressive today, it all depends on who had the most impact. They write a short blurb and say something about the person.” Yuuji doesn’t turn his attention away from the screen as he continues. “You’ve always been in the top three since you entered this school.”
“Is that so?”
Megumi shrugs nonchalantly, a small smile on his lips. Sure, he hates the T and thinks it’s a pointless program but being at the top without even trying feeds his large ego a little bit.
Toge scrolls up the page, ignoring the people at the hundredth place because they’re obviously irrelevant and gets to the top twenty. A picture of a girl with white hair in short bob wearing a white sweater and black pants in one picture, and a blonde wig in another wearing a hot pink suit in another comes up.
‘Hana Kurusu, the head of the theatre club is the first to spearhead a high end production of legally blonde. While we’re really happy for her, let’s not get our hopes up, this play is going to be garbage fire-’
Megumi quickly tunes out the rest of the post and the rest of the frat talking about how the musical will be dog shit, not really interested in anything about Hana. Sure, she’s a decent fuck and she does whatever he wants, including keeping her mouth shut about their arrangement but that didn’t mean he cared about her.
“Damn, they really ripped the theatre kids a new one. I don’t think they deserve that” Yuuji murmurs.
“The T didn’t lie, I tried giving theatre a chance for a hot girl who was super into it. I ended up taking off my hearing aids mid-performance because I didn’t pay to hear such shit acting”
“Toge!”
“It was a shame, she had really nice tits but she can’t sing or act for shit. Instant turn off. Why do something you’re shit at?”
Megumi nods in agreement, replying to Toge’s argument. “Only broke kids join theatre to be part of something. The fee is low and they think they’ll make it in Hollywood since they schooled here.”
The rest of the top 15 were uneventful, apart from Yuuji at number 6 who practically broke a school record in track and field, set up by the fastest runner in ‘08, Zenin Naoya - Megumi’s shitty cousin amongst the sea of shit family members he has.
As usual, Yuuji shrugs it off despite everyone screaming in shock and congratulating him, saying it's not a big deal. Maybe it’s because he’s a beast at almost every sport he touches that he’s so humble with his achievement. All his years of knowing Yuuji from high school, he has always remained humble and friendly, never letting his success get to his head.
He’s sure if Naoya ever finds out, he’d be pissed.
Good.
Finally they make it to the top five, the most anticipated people that everyone is always curious about. Usually, the top five is not just about achievements, it’s about looks, it’s about charisma, it about how much people thirst over them.
They encapsulate the true shallowness of the student body.
‘At number five, it’s Momo Nishimiya. Winning the debate nationals and making it as the head of the national model UN, there are big things awaiting the beauty with brains from the IT girls group. I’m sure I see another cherry red sports car in ms. Nishimiya’s future or another trip to the Bahamas as a celebration! Make sure to post those Bikini pics babe’
“Preferably the latter.” Some of the frat boys murmured, their voices dripping with lust that it’s nearly pathetic. “I’ve got to see her in a bikini again or I’ll kill myself.”
‘I hope you do, you’re actually annoying.’
Megumi doesn’t stop them from being nasty little perverts though. In his opinion, it's just the way boys talk, especially when they’re with their fellow guys.
It’s not like they mean any harm by being horny.
‘At number four, making it to the cover of Independent and a guest appearance on the Tonight Show, Mai Zenin. Well, are we really surprised to see ms. hot stuff, perfect ass at the top?
Running the school with an Iron fist, Mai, the leader of the IT girls has always maintained her relevance from the second she won an olympic gold medal in shooting range. A mixture of grace and smarts, there is always a spot for her in the top five.’
Megumi sighs the second he sees Mai’s magazine cover; wearing a rather sexualized version of a chesogam, she leans on a chair with her legs crossed, the long slit giving view of her long legs. Her smile is sultry, never reaching her eyes.
He has never seen her ever smile genuinely before in all the time he spent in the Zenin household. Not that he blames her, the way they treated women in that place was nothing to smile about.
The frat boys all but bark at her pictures, each hungry for something, shouting profainities about how much they want to fuck her. Itadori opens his mouth to say something, but Megumi clamps a hand over his shoulders and tells him to settle down. “Don’t worry, let them have their fun. It’s nothing serious.”
Normally Megumi would stop them, but he thinks they’re cute. They’re so cute thinking they even have a chance with Mai of all people. If there was something Megumi liked about Mai, it was that she had standards.
If she was going to be treated like shit, might as well be treated like shit wearing Louis Vuitton and Hermes.
He turns his attention to the next one on the list and his smile instantly drops the second he sees Maki at number 3. The T has a weird habit of pitting Maki and Mai against each other, and while Maki wouldn’t care about this shit, Mai does.
The Zenin’s had imprinted it that women must be in constant competition for affection because how much they are loved is how much they are valued. Maki thinks everything the Zenin says is bullshit, including that whole line about affection. Mai, however, is a different story. She has internalised that information so much that she spends so much time caring about her reputation to her detriment.
‘At the proud number three is our nationi8nal MMA champion, Maki Zenin! This week she defeated the previously undefeated title holder, Sena. I’m not usually into muscular women but goddamn does she look hot while beating in someone’s face with her fists. Step on me mommy-’
Uncomfortable with reading the rest of that sentence, Megumi quickly signs desperately with Yuuji laughing at him in the background. “Scroll up, scroll up.”
Luckily for him, Toge also seemed uncomfortable because the last thing he wants to see is someone thirsting over his best friend and scrolling away, landing on the number two name on the list.
‘And coming up to the number two is Zenin Megumi, the school’s resident mysterious hottie who happens to be recruiting new pledges for the Alpha Beta frat house.
How he divides his time between posing for the house of Gojo’s fashion line, shirtless and at the same time stays on top of his business class is some what a mystery, not that I’m complaining though cause FUCK HE’S HOT…’
Megumi groans in his hands as a picture of him posing shirtless with flared jeans, whilst manspreading comes on screen for the entire frat house to see.
The entire house grows quiet, before whispers of “is it okay to have a crush on our president- in a manly kind of way?” And “he looks so majestic, that’s our president! I need his gym routine-” start floating in the air, only making Megumi grow more annoyed, almost as if he’s not in the room with them.
Yuuji places a hand on his shoulder with a teasing smile, clearly enjoying watching Megumi suffer. “Don’t be shy. You should be proud of your-”
“Shut the fuck up and tell Toge to get that shit off the screen before I hear another person ask if it’s okay they get off to pictures of me.”
Amused, Yuuji turns to Toge, signing Megumi’s message to which he lets out a weird snort like laughter, before scrolling up to the moment everyone has been waiting for: The number one spot. He can hear some people drawing in a deep breath, waiting for the next person until the blurb flashes on the screen.
“At the number one spot; the stunning beauty of University that has gripped our hearts and our nether regions. Voted the sexiest girl on campus the second we saw her in the freshman group taking a tour, (Name) (Last name)-Nanami!
Dressed in a cute Juicy Couture that makes her ass look juusst right, (name) has taken the entire school and the socialite scene by storm.
By the way, happy belated eighteenth birthday princess. Now that you are legal, I can proudly say I and the majority of the guys in this school have jerked off to your birthday bikini pics with zero guilt. And also, thanks to you the juicy couture section in the mall not too far away and the goodwill a few blocks over is sold out. You’re an icon babe, keep being you.’
“FUCK YES IT’S HER AGAIN!”
“Please, please, please marry me (name), I’ll dump my girlfriend for you! Fuck I’ll set a car on fire for you-”
“I hope her nudes leak or something, that’s the only way I’ll see her naked because she’s way too good for me.”
Megumi doesn’t think too much of it, ignoring all the crazy things his fraternity brothers are saying. But someone else has an opposite opinion.
“Oh God, not her again.”
Megumi raises a brow, curious at Yuuji’s reaction. It was strange for the friendly man to sound so annoyed over someone, especially somebody so new to this school and seemingly beloved by the student body. Usually, he’s the one to have qualms about the person and Yuuji would have to talk him into being less suspicious about the person.
His friend had no malicious bone in his body. Or maybe there’s a side to Yuuji even he doesn’t know about.
“You don’t sound too happy.”
“No… that’s not what… you don’t know who she is, do you?” His pink haired friend only groans in response, increasingly getting more agitated for some reason. Megumi shakes his head negatively in response and Yuuji sighs. “Remember when my dad got married like last year? That’s my step-mom’s daughter … my step-sister.”
“Oh”
Back in December it was trending news that the owner of the best winery in the world, Nanami Kento was getting married to a deaf, single mother. The Zenin’s were pissed because Nanami chose ‘damaged goods’ over the barely legal teen they arranged so that they could partner with him. But since Megumi wasn’t interested in such a topic and he was just happy the elders were miserable that winter, he didn’t bother to look into it.
No wonder Yuuji looked more irritated with every passing moment. The pink haired boy always seemed to be concerned about his family members whenever the tabloids said something nasty about them and was fiercely protective of them. It could be why Yuuji doesn’t bring her around the fraternity house or barely mentions her, so that people won’t try to use him to get to her.
“She’s just eighteen Megs.” Yuuji’s grave tone rouses Megumi from his thoughts. Poor guy, it’s really bothering him, what’s going on with his sister. “It’s not been up to three months since she got here and the comments the T has made about her body are disgusting. She pretends like it doesn’t bother her but I’m sure that she hates it deep down.”
He can relate to Yuuji right now; back in high school he would overhear guys talking about how much they want to screw his sister.
Unlike Yuuji though, he wasn’t as patient.
“Don’t think too much about the T’s comments” Megumi reaches a comforting hand to Yuuji. Even though he’s sure the girl doesn’t give a damn about his friend, he has to ease the pink haired man’s nerves somehow. “Maybe she truly doesn’t think it’s too much of a big deal. She could be like that, you never know. Plus you know how the T is. They’re obsessed with the next hot thing and then they fall out of love with it.”
Besides, Megumi figures you’re just a shiny new thing that’s trending now. And the thing about trends is that when there’s nothing interesting or fantastic about them, they die out. ‘Yuuji has nothing to worry about’ he muses to himself. ‘You’re probably not that pretty to last long-’
The second Toge puts your picture on the screen, Megumi finds himself eating his words.
The admiration of your image by the other frat members becomes nothing but background noise as he stares at the t.v utterly transfixed. Your features were distinct in a way that could only be described as ethereal, breathtaking, exotic. You’re wearing cute juicy couture sweats, something he thinks looked utterly tacky and overdone by all the blond girls in this school and yet you make it look expensive, like you’re the only one he wants to see it on. Your lips are pulled into a pretty smile that lights up your eyes, only highlighting your best features like your cheeks and your nose.
He’s not one for looks, but by god you were one of the most gorgeous girls he’s ever set his eyes on.
“No wonder you keep hiding her from us.” Toge signs, also nearly astonished by how beautiful you look. “Your sister is fucking hot man.”
“Not you too, Toge, she’s barely eighteen, leave her alone-”
Megumi ignores the argument going on behind him, opting to keep looking at your picture. As much as he’s captivated by your beauty, there’s this nagging feeling at the back of his mind that there’s something familiar about you. He can’t shake off the coincidence that you have the same first and last name as someone he used to know and you look like the prettier version of that person.
‘It can’t be her.’ He denies it in his head. The girl that he knew all those years ago would never have been able to afford this university’s tuition without incurring a huge debt. She’d care too much about hurting her single mom’s finances. He keeps staring at the picture and notices you’re holding up your boba drink in one hand, revealing the bracelets on your wrist, which he didn’t pay attention to at first, until something purple and pink catches his eye.
‘That looks really cheap for her to be wearing- wait.’
He squints his eyes a little bit and sees the four letters written on the bracelet “GUMI” boldy.
His mouth groes dry instantly.
‘No fucking way.’
There was a distant past where he was much more free to do whatever he wanted and he didn’t have to worry about the responsibility of taking over the Zenin’s chain of businesses. There were many faceless people in that high school. There were people he brutally beat senseless and there were people who either feared or admired him from afar.
But you were the most memorable because you were a clingy little bitch.
While others avoided him like a plague, you were always beside him, offering to be his “friend” and following him around like fucking insect. You were a pimple-faced, annoying little tramp that he could barely stand.
He could have avoided your affection if he didn’t beat up your bullies that day. He should have never pitied you when he saw you crying in the boys bathroom. It would have saved him the headache of being stuck with you for almost two years in high school.
The only reason he tolerated you for as long as he did was because of Tsumiki. In hindsight, he blames his deceased sister for encouraging your borderline obsession with him because she thought it was cute. He wonders if romantically and mentally you’ve changed. If you’ve grown out of your childish crush on him and forgotten all about your “Gumi” and “Fushiguro-kun”, the things you used to call him with your shrill voice.
When he left that dreaded Academy, he made sure that no one called him “Gumi” ever. He resented that nickname, because it reminded him of you.
You looked happy, fitting right into a society that once rejected you with your pretty hair and manicured nails. Long gone was the wimp that hid behind him, that had to rely on food stamps on your worst days; now you’re a spoiled little brat, having the time of your life without inheriting the responsibility of being a wealthy socialite like he did.
It just made Megumi hate you even more. While he’s stuck with the Zenin clan and paying the price of wealth, you don’t have to do anything. You’re happy. How the hell is any of that fair to him?
Why do you get to be happy?
“You’re staring a bit too hard at the picture, Zenin. Don’t tell me you wanna fuck her too?”
He considers telling the pink haired man that he knew you and all about your pathetic crush on him for a brief moment, but quickly discarded that plan. Like Tsumiki, Yuuji would get the wrong idea and try to get them together.
Instead he rolled his eyes and said in the most bland voice he could muster.
“Not my type.”
Yuuji looks at the tips of Megumi’s ears, noticing them turn red  before looking at the boy again with narrowed eyes.
“Sure.”
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  YOU hated dinners with your ‘family’.
Your step-dad, Nanami Kento was not much of a conversationalist and he ate in silence, except to ask to pass the water jug. Your mother was a try-hard, always asking how school is like for both you and Yuuji, like you’re teenagers attending high school and not university students. Yuuji was also a try hard, answering your mother’s questions like his life depended on it.
And you? You don’t want to be here.
You love your mother and would do anything for her. She sacrificed so much for you so that you’d have an education, working so many jobs and encouraging you. Sure, she was a bit harsh on you when it came to your academics and you used to hate it, but you understood back then that she was giving you a chance she never had. With your father a deadbeat and your family members a bunch of self-righteous losers, it was you and her against the world.
But trying to play house with a step-father you barely knew and a brother who would never speak to you on school grounds was tethering on the edge of your patience that you feel lucky that you only have to do this once a week.
Couple that with the stressful day you had in university from dealing with Mai, to the disgusting and perverted comment section on your trending tuesdays posts -that Mai told you to “get used to it” when you said you hated them and wanted it to stop, to nearly being late in submitting an assignment only to be told “looks can only get you so far” as if you’re not trying your hardest in school, you’re just about done with everything.
All you want to do is eat and sleep in your own bed.
The only good thing about your dinner is the unripe plantain, your favourite meal and you’re shocked the chefs made it after debating with your mother about making ethnic foods for her. Maybe your step-father had some choice words with them.
“So how’s school been for you baby girl?”
You internally groan at your mother’s question as your step-father and Yuuji turn their attention towards you. “It’s okay.” you sign back, before continuing with your food, hoping that your mother would get the message that you don’t want to talk about it.
As your luck could have it, your mother did not like the reply. “What do you mean, Okay?” she signs, her brows pinched together in irritation. “That’s not an answer (name).”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Oh come on baby (name), you’re in college, you should be having fun. I heard from some sources you’re very popular in your school which means you’ve got to have friends right? Why don’t you invite them over? Hell, you should have also met someone cute too that piques your interest or are you still pining over Gumi-”
There’s a tense atmosphere that cuts across the once awkward sphere of the table. Your step father stopped eating the second he saw the enraged look on your face, and his hands facing your mother trying to tell her to “stop-” only for her to aggressively shake her head in dismal, her next words pushing you over the edge. “No, Kento! She’s our child and I have to ask her what she’s been up to-”
“You really want to know what I’ve been up to, mom?” You start to sign, your hands trembling in anger. “You want to know how I’m doing in my business course where no one takes me seriously because I’m too pretty to be smart? Or you want to know how many ‘cute guys’ have threatened to assault me sexually or said something perverted about my body on a school post and how the school refused to take it down when I reported it? Or how I feel so out of place when you seem so well-adjusted with your husband and son, and your only solution is to throw a new black card at me and hope I’m obedient? You really want to know?”
The entire dining table grows silent at your outburst by the time you’re done, heavily breathing as tears threaten to prickle your eyes. Your mother’s features soften, clearly affected by your words and for a second you feel guilty for getting angry at her. Instead, you said out loud whilst tossing your cutlery aside “I’m going to my room. Don’t bother me.” and disappeared up the stairs despite your step father calling out your name until you made it to your room.
Flopping onto your canopy bed the second you enter your room, you’re quick to bury your head in your pillow and let out a guttural scream that you’ve been holding all day. At this point, you don’t care that you’re being rude, your life took a drastic turn the second you turned seventeen and you’ve just been pretending to be okay with it. After years of it just being you and her, these two men barged into your life. You had to up and move from the friends you had finally managed to make, from all your plans to attend a community college for music to an expensive overpriced university in a business course that you hate and from your home that had all your memories into a large mansion that makes you feel insignificant.
You were quickly shuffled into a lifestyle that made you stand out because you weren’t born into money. You had to mingle with people who reminded you of your bullies in high school and laugh with them like you’re not a step from having a mental breakdown, because you need to be significant, you need to network and fit in. You had to pretend you were fine because if you act out the media will drag your mother’s name in the mud.
And you’re all alone dealing with your feelings. Who were you going to tell how inauthentic you felt? How so out of place you felt despite your popularity and you just want to escape it all?
Mai would just tease you for being overdramatic. Momo would tell you that it is what it is as a female socialite and you should swallow it. Maybe Miwa might be sympathetic to your cause but then you remembered she’s supposed to be editing her posts for tiktok tomorrow, so there is no time for you.
There was only one person who would have truly understood and you haven’t seen him in five years.
Feeling nostalgic, you lean over your bed and retrieve a box from underneath. Carefully punching in the code, it opens with a quiet click revealing an old cream sweater kept in good condition, your high school’s logo stitched at the top, three pictures you got at a fair and your old iphone 4 that seems to still work, that all seem so reminiscent of a time so far away yet so close.
Long before you were the IT girl, before you were new money, the girl everyone wants and wants to be.
It was a time when things were so dark that you couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel because you were relentlessly bullied for not being fortunate enough to have money in a school where the rich eat the vulnerable. You had considered ending it all, to stop your mom from constantly coming to school to complain only to return feeling more powerless than ever.
And then he came into your life.
You take the sweater in your arms, gently pressing your nose against the fabric to inhale his scent, preserving it all these years just for comfort. It takes you back to when you were 13, huddled up in a bathroom stall while cradling your broken fingers. You hated life so much back then and you really wanted to die to the point you were googling how many acetamin pills it would take to kill you with your uninjured hand, the bottle containing them just a few feet away from your shaking body. You couldn’t play the harp that you loved because of them, you couldn’t take the emotional abuse and you couldn’t return home to break your mother’s heart by being a pathetic child.
You were planning to die in a boys bathroom stall, ready to swallow the pill when the door flew open. You instantly cowered in fear, spilling the entire bottle on the floor, your heart dropping to your stomach the second you set eyes on the school’s resident bully.
Fushiguro Megumi.
Back then you assumed he was going to laugh at you and then tell everyone what you tried to do. As much as you admired him from afar, you didn’t trust him. You couldn’t trust him. Maybe he was going to kick you aside and take a piss like one other guy had done when you were still barely conscious from earlier.
You didn’t expect him to notice your broken fingers. Or even ask you who did the bullying. And when he did, you had begged him not to get the teacher involved, to which he said. “Who said I’m telling anyone?” before disappearing. You were scared, wondering if he’d call them back to finish the job.
Instead, he dragged the bullies -male and female back to the bathroom for you to watch him beat them up and broke the arm of the guy who crushed your fingers. After he was done, he had taken your unbroken hand in his larger ones to help you up, warmth spreading into your shaking fingers as he steadied you, telling you to step on them.
“W-why?”
“Revenge. Catharsis. Fun.” he had said, his tone rueful. You looked at him with pure fear as he guided you to one the bullies, the girl who started it all. “B-but what if I get in trouble? Or they come for me and hurt me again-”
“Don’t be a square. I’m giving you a chance for payback, so be a good girl and take it.”
“B-but-”
“Do it. I’ll take the blame.”
And true to his word, he did take the blame for both your actions and was suspended for a day. When he came back, you clung onto him like glue, fearful you’d get hurt by those same bullies, but eventually giving way into your heart as you fell head over heels for him. The way he smiled when you said the dumbest stuff. The way his voice sounded, especially when he called your name. The way his hand swallows yours because of how big they were, his comforting scent, everything about Megumi was calming, comforting.
Even your first kiss with him was gentle, sparks flying as he cupped your face in his larger hands.
He could be a bit harsh on you and sometimes, he could say some mean things, he always made it up with some sweet gesture like buying your favourite strawberry drink or spending time with you while you practised the harp.
You loved him so much. You still love him so much. You can’t look at any man the way you looked at him, and you’ve tried. Mai has tried shoving you into a relationship with many guys to try and spice up your reputation but you couldn’t let them even hold your hand, let alone kiss them.
They’re not him. They’ll never be him.
Megumi was not the light at the end of your tunnel, but he took your broken hands in his and let you dance through the thick of the dark times of your life when no one else thought you deserved happiness.
You shed off your juicy couture jacket and shrug on his large sweater, collapsing into your bed with your arms wrapped around yourself. Any time you were upset with anything, you would call him and he’d either listen to you through your sobs or come over to your little house and sneak in with your favourite snacks to watch a movie with you and hold you tight whenever you said you wanted a hug. You wish he hadn’t disappeared when he moved away, that he had at least left you with a number for you to call or text or anything instead of upping and leaving cold turkey.
Tears rolled down your face as you tried to picture him comforting you, over everything that had happened. “Want me to fuck them up?” He’d ask in between murmurs and when you’d shake your head no, he’d click his tongue. He always loved solving problems with violence. “I should, for the way they’re talking to you. You shouldn’t let people take advantage of you.”
‘I miss you Megumi. I miss you so much-’
A knock on your door interrupts your thoughts and you’re quick to wipe away your tears with the back of your hand. Not wanting any pity from whoever was at the door -most likely your mother- you put on your best resting bitch face before storming towards it before yanking it open.
Your frown only deepens when you see your step-father at the door. “Did she put you up to this?” Your voice was cold and from how his brows creased in response, you could see he was hurt.
He shakes his head negatively in response, about to say something when you cut him off again. “The dad thing is not going to work, just leave me be.”
You close the door in his face, albeit rudely and flopped on your bed, curling yourself up into a tight ball and sobbing quietly until you fall asleep.
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YOUR step-father’s solution to you being upset is to throw money at your face and tell you to ‘do something nice for yourself’.
Mid-class you had received a cash-app alert attached with a message for you to ‘cheer up with this and tell Yuuji to take you shopping.’ and while it annoyed you to no end that he assumed money made you happy, he wasn’t exactly wrong.
You also suspect that he wants you to open up to Yuuji about your problems, as you both are closer in age; which is a dumb plan in hindsight because you know you’re not going to say shit to someone you barely interact with. Step-brother or not.
The second class dismissed you were out of the door, your Hermes bag slung over your arm. Perhaps your step-dad was right about retail therapy, you needed something to blow off steam with after the depressing night you had; being forced to relive your entire day and then cry yourself to sleep thinking about how much you miss Megumi so much.
What you need is to turn off your brain and buy new things that would make you happy, like new trinkets to add to your room.
Feeling giddy, you pick up your phone and go to the IT girls group chat, ready to invite them to your shopping spree since you didn’t want to go on your shopping spree all alone.
“I should text the girls to see if they’ll hang out with me-”
You paused, stopping yourself in your tracks. You’re trying to have fun, not be silently judged and have pictures taken of your spree and uploaded on the internet for weirdos to oogle.
“I need time alone, but not alone alone” you say to yourself. “Yuuji’s the better option, at least he’ll keep to himself if he sees I’m not in the mood to talk.”
With that decision finalised, you found Yuuji’s contact - Yuuji 🏀- and quickly shot him a text that you needed a ride to the mall right now, if he’s free.
“With that done, I’ll get myself strawberry yoghurt to go-”
Your phone dings just as you’re about to tuck it in your bag and you see it’s Yuuji who had replied faster than you anticipated.
Yuuji 🏀 - I’ll be free in an hr, my class will soon be over
Yuuji 🏀- wait in my room at the frat house, I’ll pick you up there.
You frowned. Why the hell will you wait at a fraternity house? For all you know, they’re nothing but nasty, filthy little perverts. Frat bros have a bad reputation, being gross pieces of shit who have no personal boundaries and get away with anything. Mai always told you that they’re a slippery slope and the chances of you meeting a decent one is as good as pigs flying.
You🧋- Heck no. What if something happens to me there?
Yuuji 🏀 - Look, I need to pick you up and drop you off by 3pm before my next class starts and I don’t wanna waste any time
Yuuji 🏀 - besides my friends are there and they know you’re coming. No one will hurt you.
You 🧋- Fine. I’ll be there waiting. Not a minute late or I’ll rip your jlaw posters apart
Abandoning your plan of getting strawberry yoghurt with a secret promise you’d get it later at the mall, you decided to make your way to the Alpha Beta Frat house, much to your chagrin.
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  AFTER hitching a ride with the school’s shuttle system within five minutes, you find yourself standing in front of the famed Alpha-Beta house.
The four story building was imposing to say the least, but there wasn’t a challenge you’ve ever backed down from. You casually strolled through the path leading to the front door, grabbing the brass handle and slamming it as hard as possible on the door twice.
‘They ought to hear me that way.’
Sure enough, someone shuffled with the door a few seconds later and opened it, complaints on their lips as the gap widened.
“Who the fuck is knocking on the door like tha- oh-oh h-hey-”
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at his sudden change of behaviour. You could recognize him from one of your electives, psychology 101 with professor Getou. He usually makes a fool of himself there as he is doing right now, practically drooling all over himself on the front porch like a mangy mutt.
As much as you’d like to watch him pant like a dog and laugh at him later, you couldn’t stand staying outside any longer.
“Where’s Yuuji Itadori’s room?” You ask curtly.
“Uh… the l-last floor, the door on the far end of the left… o-or was it r-right...”
‘Fucking moron’ you curse internally, before putting on a fake, thankful smile on your face and pushed past the awestruck man to get into the house. “Don’t worry, I’ll figure it out, myself.”
The house was neat, surprisingly, compared to the horrific stories you used to hear from Mai about how filthy fraternity houses are, especially the Alpha beta house under Todo’s rule. As you gingerly walk up the stairs, you notice how not a speck of dust nor a single graffitti lies on the wall, like everything had been polished and cleaned constantly.
Yuuji had made an off comment about the new president being a clean freak and would beat anyone up for leaving as much as wrapping paper on the floor without picking it up. “It runs in the Zenin’s I guess.” He had signed on a particular dinner night. “The last Zenin leader had done the exact same thing.”
As much as you hate the Zenin men and have never heard anything good about them, you have to be grateful that this one was dedicated to keeping the damn house clean. Even the frat bros look well dressed in their polo and shorts, and didn’t reek like beer or weed - although you caught some of them looking at you like a piece of meat.
‘At least they don’t try to talk to me. Must be out of respect for Yuuji.’
Eventually you make it to the top floor with two hallways stretching out on either side. You contemplated going to the left for a few seconds, but ultimately headed towards the right, figuring that Yuuji’s room could be there and if it wasn’t, you would just go the other way. You stop at the door at the end of the room, assuming that it’s the right one and open it without knocking.
The first thing that hit you was the fresh scent of jasmines and apricot, two flavours that you would never expect to be mixed together, but worked so well. You took in the surroundings of the large room next, admiring the rather dark academic route it took in terms of design with the large brown curtains hanging over the windows, the low level lighting hanging above your head. The closet was large and the doors were made out tempered, coloured glass, a rather brave choice but it seemed to contribute to the overall look of the room.
Seeing a couch with a coffee table at a corner, you decided to set your bag aside there while you admired the rest of the properties. You never took him for someone who’d have such a good taste for details, especially in terms of decor but he seemed to have exceeded your expectations of him. Even the floor is made up of mahogany wood board as opposed to the rest of the marble floors in the house.
You walk up to the medium sized reading table, admiring the hanging shelves over it stacked with books. The table was as clean as the rest of the room, each knick-knack and stationery arranged accordingly. Your eyes caught sight of the trophy case standing next to the closet in its own case and you walked up to it, admiring the sheer size. It was to be expected, since he had been on the varsity of his school team and was really good at sports. You take up one hand and trace a line over the case, carefully looking at the achievements.
“1st place at the Wimbledon championship, Male singles”
‘Interesting, I didn’t know Yuuji played tennis. I thought he mostly focused on basketball and track and field in school- oh, oh no-’
The second you read the next line your heart dropped to your stomach.
“Zenin Megumi”
Fuck, you were the wrong room. You should have known, the level organisation of this room and the lack of Jennifer Lawrence posters on the wall was too suspicious.
“I need to get out of this room as fast as possible-”
“What the hell are you doing in my room?”
As if things couldn’t get any worse.
Your body grew rigid at the sound of a male voice right behind you, too scared to turn around, sweating bullets despite the air conditioning of the room at being caught red handed like a fucking creep in some random guys room.
‘Oh god, how am I going to explain myself that it was an accident and I was going to Yuuji’s room?’
“I’m very sure I asked you a question. What the fuck are you doing in my room?”
Wait. That voice.
They say when you spend time away from someone, you usually forget a lot of things, like their scent, the sound of their voice, and even the way they look. But not you. You remember that voice as clear as a day. You know that Megumi Fushiguro’s voice deepened rather early, you know that bored, dead tone from anywhere, even in your grave.
The dots began to connect in your head as you matched the name to his voice.
‘It can’t be…’ 
You turn around, heart thumping loudly in your chest as you turn to look at the man standing behind you, glossy eyes taking in the features. The dark spiky hair that always seemed difficult to maintain, the blue eyes staring down at you, the slope of his nose, his lips, even his imposing height - being far taller than all those years ago.
“Megumi?”
Tears of joy blind you to the way his jaw tenses and without thinking, you engulf him in a warm hug, pressing your teary face into his broad chest.
“Oh, I’m so glad to see you. I’ve looked for you everywhere.” You blab, not realising how rigid he stood, not returning your hug. You assumed it’s because he’s not an affectionate person, and you’ve never minded it. “I missed you so much. I asked everyone that knew you and you were just gone-”
“Hey, Megs, have you seen my sister? I told her to wait for me in my room but I think she came into yours- oh, am I interrupting something?”
All it took was Yuuji coming into the room for you to be dragged back into reality, because Megumi is quick to place two hands on your shoulders, his grip nearly vice-like and pried you off himself before roughly shoving you towards your step brother. You let out a pained gasp as Yuuji catches you in time.
“Megumi what the fuck is your issue?”
You cannot see his facial expression, but you can feel his steely, unwelcoming gaze burning holes at the back of your head, making your heart drop further. “You’d do the same thing too if a random stranger hugged you out of nowhere.”
“She is not a stranger, she’s my sister and you don’t get to manhandle her the way you do to your other girls. Even if she’s in the wrong.”
“Well tell your step-sister to get her bag off my couch and take her out of here before I come back.” he snapped back.
You can’t believe your ears. Sure, you look different from how you did five years prior but was it so bad he couldn’t recognize you? 
You’re brought out of your thoughts when the dark haired man walks past you both and without thinking you push Yuuji away, attempting to follow him. Your step-brother comes between you and the door, holding you by your forearms to prevent you from following Megumi.
“No, (name), stop. Just tell me what’s going on-” 
You stay mute, evading Yuuji’s grasp and dash out of the door, following after Megumi. His legs were longer than yours and you had to speed up, nearly tripping on the stairs as you followed him into the common room, Yuuji not too far off. You reached him, grasping his wrist in a desperate attempt to get his attention. He freezes for a second but soon his shock turns to anger as he swivels his head to look at you.
“What the hell do you want?” He barked.
You flinch, remembering how frightening he could be when he lost his temper but push down your fear to look up at him, your gaze soft as you try to remind him that it's you. “G-gumi it's me!” You stutter out, trembling as you jumble through your words. “(Name) (last name)... w-we went to school together, you can recognize m-me right?”
It only seems like you’re making things worse, because he’s looking at you like he wants to wrap his hands around your throat and kill you for touching him. He yanks his hand away from you, his lips curled up in a sneer. “Keep following me around and you won’t be recognizable for long.”
No, no, this isn’t right. Sure Megumi was so hostile but not like this to you. He would never, ever threaten to put his hands on you, not even as a joke. This isn’t the Megumi you know, this cannot be the person you idolised, that you loved all those years.
This stranger is wearing Megumi’s face, saying things that your Gumi would never EVER say.
He walked away and you followed him down the stairs into the living room, ignoring the surprised stares of other frat members, watching you call after him desperately, “ ‘Gumi, Gumi! Wait, it’s me! I-i still have the bracelet we made together-” not caring how crazy you looked now. You need to understand why the hell Megumi was treating you like he’s never met you before, there has to be an explanation.
He doesn’t turn around or pay attention to your incessant cries, maintaining his ignorance. “Get lost. I don’t know you.” he says casually, almost as if he seems amused you’re embarrassing yourself. “Yuuji, get your crazy sister away from me.”
You feel lost, heart dropping to your feet at his words. Being reduced to nothing but a mere stranger after years of pining for him. Shame crawls up to your skin as you feel the entire house look at you like you’ve truly lost your mind for chasing after Megumi, humbling you completely. Yuuji catches up to you, a hand wrapped around your arm, trying to tug you away gently, but you’re rooted to the spot, unable to move.
‘T-there’s no way.’ Your head spins, trying to figure out what you did to offend him. Where did it all go wrong? Wasn’t this supposed to be the both of you reuniting? Rekindling your relationship? Even if he just acknowledged knowing you, you would have been satisfied. So why was he acting this way? ‘Does he truly not remember me? Or… is he… trying to pretend I don’t exist?’
There’s only one way to figure it out. There is one name that Megumi would answer to, no matter what.
“You say you don’t remember me, but we both know that’s not true.” You push Yuuji off again and tell him to stay out of it, taking a step forward with your back straight. It takes everything in you to keep your composure, not wanting to cry in front of these men. “Even after all these years, I can still tell it’s you. Have I changed so much you can’t recognize me?”
“Can you stop this madness-”
“Look me in eye and tell me that you don’t remember me Fushiguro-kun!”
The entire house goes silent. You’re breathing hard as Megumi abruptly stops in his tracks, slowly turning around to look at you. Your mouth goes dry when you see a flicker of fury in those blue eyes, before he masks it with a cold gaze.
“You really can’t take a hint, can you (name)? Years of maturing and you’re still so stupid.”
The way his tone is so even, without any hint of emotion feels like an ice bucket of water has been thrown on you. 
“Is that all you have to say?” Your voice is trembling as you look at him incredulously. “After disappearing for five fucking years on me without a trace? All this time, I cried and waited for you! I thought something bad had happened to you-”
“How is that my problem?”  He scoffed, now folding his arms across his chest, staring down at you like you’re the dirt beneath his feet and you instantly shrink underneath his gaze. “Don’t tell me you’re still obsessed with me? For five years? That’s really pathetic.”
Pathetic? How is it pathetic to be in love with someone who was supposed to love you back? Were you really pathetic to keep him in your heart all these years? “I-i don’t understand, y-you asked me to be your girlfriend right before you left! Y-you said you liked me-”
“We were in high school. I was a horny teenager and you were there. I said something nice so that I could mess around with you.” He groaned, uncaring that his words were hurting you. That he was admitting to just seeing you as a means to an end. “Don’t tell me all these years you believed the shit I said about liking you?”
‘This can’t be right.’ Your eyes are wide with shock, unable to comprehend the madness coming out from his mouth. Each word that he uttered takes apart your fragile heart piece by piece until there is almost nothing left, your frustration and anger rising with the entire situation. ‘No, no- this isn’t Gumi. He-he’d never do this to m-me-’
“I-i kept the bracelet we both made, to carry u-us with each other-”
“You mean the one with your nickname you gave to me? I threw it away the second I left for a new school.” He looks down at your wrist, a wry smile forming on his lips as he chuckles darkly. “Seems like you still wear yours.”
Your face felt hot as all eyes fell on you, embarrassment flooding your features. Megumi had practically made it known that you were nothing to him and he didn’t even consider you once when he left, in front of all of his frat members, while you pined after him like a desperate girl.
Thinking back to high school, it made sense now that he never loved you. He was always cold to you until you begged him. He refused to be seen with you in public but would make out with you in hidden corners of the school, then go back to pretending he doesn’t know you in front of his friends.
For years you had this idealised version of your Gumi in your head but now you realised you chose to believe in your own delusions.
You kept his sweater, his pictures, his gifts in a special box and his memories in your heart. You cried over him until you got ill when he disappeared and you even tried to run away from home to find him. You refused to date guys Mai would push your way because you were waiting for him.
You gave away five years of your happiness crying over someone that hates you.
You watch through teary eyes as Megumi leans close enough to you until his breath tickles your ears, whispering in a harsh voice, just for you to hear.
“Did you really think I’d like you now because you’re dressed like a skank? Wear all the fancy clothes you want, you’ll always be an insecure whiny brat who looks for affection everywhere but won’t find it.”
“You’re lying.” You spit back. You want to hurt him back, to make him feel the same way he’s made you feel; angry, humiliated. “There are tons of guys who will be lining up to fuck me the second I give the green light.”
“Exactly. They’ll want to fuck you, but they’ll never ever date you.”
Any form of self-worth or self-confidence you might have built up, came crashing down the second he said those words. You’re left standing there as he stood upright again, frozen at the way his words managed to unearth the insecurities you’ve tried your best to hide. You look at Megumi with tears in your eyes, defiant before taking a deep breath and composing yourself, blinking away tears.
Five years ago, if he had said these things to you, you would have cried. But you’re not a kid and you’d be damned if you shed tears for him in front of all the Alpha Beta boys and looked more pathetic than you already were.
“Yuuji, pass me my bag.”
Your step-brother holds it out for you, and without looking, you snatched it out of his hand. At least, he’s not trying to act like a good brother and getting in between your fight with Megumi. Maybe he knows it would make the situation worse.
You look at Megumi again, your once adoring gaze turned to that of anger and sadness. By God, he had become more handsome than ever, but it seems the Zenin’s have rottened him to the core. You look at his eyes again and see that his eyes are dull, like there is no life in them; like he’s dealing with perpetual sadness. He was always depressed in high school and you considered using the fact he used to cut the pain away too often to hurt him, but ultimately decided against it.
You were not going down that road. You still loved him more than you wanted to hurt him, even if it felt pathetic to do so like he said.
“You’re right.” You begin, a sad smile forming on your lips. “I’m pathetic. But at least I’m not as miserable as you are. Have a nice life, Zenin.”
With that, you walk past him with your head held up high and leave the frat house with a forced smile, ignoring the way your legs felt like jelly. It’s not until you enter a shuttle towards the Kappa sorority house that the crushing weight of humiliation and betrayal wears you down that you burst into tears.
Bonus:
‘Fuck, (name), keep squeezing me like that, Shiittt’
Megumi knows he’s a piece of shit. Ever since he entered the Zenin household and shed his Fushiguro last name, he’s been hitting one low to another, seemingly unaware of where the rock bottom is. He knows he’s done abhorrent, corrupt things that normal people would scrunch their nose in disgust. The Zenin’s are never afraid to get their hands dirty and he had to learn that at an early age if he had any chance of surviving that household.
But this was a new low, even for him.
Sweat dripped down his forehead, hair sticking to his forehead, glistening down his muscular body. His hips give timed thrusts, angled just right to send pleasurable waves through his body, hitting the right spot for the girl under him. Each movement elicits a soft moan from Hana, muffled by the position she was in; face down on his king sized bed with his hand pressing her face against the pillow, her torso held up by his arm around it whilst his cock pistoned in and out of her poor abused pussy.
On a normal day, it fed his large ego if she was crying out his name for everyone to hear it. He secretly prided himself in ruining a girl, making her cry for him and then tossing her aside. And they always crawl back, eager to do whatever he wants and give in to his selfish needs, no matter how shitty he treats them.
But today, he didn’t want to hear Hana say his name. He wished it was you.
And by god he hated it. He hated you so much.
If there was anything about you that never changed, it’s how you saw through him. Right in high school, you always knew when he was upset, even when he didn't say anything or act out; those times you would sit in silence and push your favourite strawberry yoghurt in his hands to make him feel better. Even in the midst of him tearing you apart, you had the audacity to call him miserable.
And he knows you’re right, but hearing it come out from your mouth hurts him, opening up a part of him that he buried in his heart.
How dare you make him feel vulnerable?
He wishes it was you he had in this position, but instead of pushing your head down, he’d grab you by your neck and make the entire house hear you cry. He’d fuck you like a slut, make you cum all over his cock so hard multiple times, until you couldn’t think about it. He wishes it’s your cunt he was fucking like a mad man, that was squeezing him like this so deliciously as he angled it to your g-spot, hearing your sharp in take of breath, trying to stave your orgasm off.
There’s a burning sensation at the back of his mind that aches for your body. He wants to be the one you’re the most vulnerable with, so that he can throw it back in your face. He wants to take his misery out on you.
 “ ‘s too much, t’much- Gumi gonna cum-”
“Shut up” he snarled at her angrily. She called him that stupid name you always call him. No matter what he does, you keep haunting him everywhere he goes. “You’ll put me off if you talk. Just cum.”
And goodness, Hana has no self-worth as she cums hard, crying out his name over and over again. Megumi pretends it's your voice, that it’s you whining for him and it pushes him over the edge. He cums hard into the condom with a quiet groan, his body violently trembling as he rides his high, your face at the back of his mind until he’s spent.
He slowly removes his hand off her head and drags his cock out, letting her body fall limp onto his bed. He rolled over to face the ceiling in an attempt to catch his breath from having the best orgasm of his life.
Because he was thinking about you.
He knows it’s definitely not love. He doesn’t love anyone and he doesn’t care about anyone else beyond what he can gain. And he definitely enjoyed hurting you, making you cry. He enjoyed dragging you down to his level and he’s sure that’s not what someone who is in love does to the person they care about.
He is brought out of his thoughts when Hana rolls on her back, white hair splayed on his pillows, frowning like she’s dissatisfied with something he did.
Which is weird, he’s sure he made her cum.
Normally, he didn’t care and he would never ask, but today, he’s feeling a bit generous. "What’s up with you?” He asked. “You didn’t like it?”
There is a nervous pause, with her biting her lip anxiously, like she’s afraid of saying something that would offend him. It’s clear that whatever has been on her mind must be serious. Eventually, she takes a deep breath and starts talking.
“N-no, I liked today’s session, it’s just…” she mumbled, biting her lip nervously. Megumi raised a brow at her statement. “It’s just what? Spit it out.”
“You kept on calling me (name).”
‘Fuck.’
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e-boys taglist: @officiallyjaehyuns @haikyuusboringassmanager @ilybbg @cockonoi @Rindou24689 @short-cxke @kokoch4n3l @GenAwi @reiners-milkbiddies @gh0stgirl333 @megumisdivinedogs @fushiqruo @kawaiikoalagarden @raven-nevra @ilovetwodmen @straightfromheaven @manchie55 @matchamilktea-05 @tenjikusstuff4 @Lovelyartistz @lik0 @iluv-ace @lovely-maryj @slvdsjjk @espresso1patronum @aegsland @madison777x
also available on wattpad under the name "Stupid Love"
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lilislegacy · 7 months ago
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Okay, I’ve been thinking about something lately
All the time I see people make statements about Percy that start with “Percy would never…”
Some examples I’ve seen: “percy would never kill someone/something in front of his mom” “percy would never yell at someone he loves” “percy would never get drunk” “percy would never let his child go to camp-half blood”
Now if you passionately believe one of those, hear me out. I’m not necessarily saying I disagree!
I’m saying… who would have ever thought Percy would torture a goddess and choke her on her own poison? And…. enjoy doing it? If someone had said that on tumblr pre-HoH, every single comment and reblog would have been “PERCY WOULD NEVER!!” I mean, who would have thought Percy would do a million things he’s done? He’s done some very not so ‘silly little guy’ stuff. He is an extremely complex character. In his own head and to some people, he’s sweet and fun and silly, but to many people he’s reckless and scary and dangerous. Some people see him as someone who’s very gentle and relaxed, but some people see him as someone who’s quick to get very angry and cause destruction. And the truth is, he’s all of it. It depends on his mood. Consistency does not apply to him in many aspects. He has consistent traits, like loyalty, humor, and bravery, but his actual actions and reactions are NOT consistent. I understand why we think Percy would never do certain things. We think we know based off of his past and his history with his mom, or with Gabe, or with Luke. And I’m not saying I think he would do those things, but unless he specifically states it, we can NOT, ever, infer what Percy Jackson might or might not do.
Like for instance, the drinking thing. I am not saying percy would be a big drinker, if one at all. And he probably does have an aversion to the smell of beer because of how the apartment used to smell when he was young. But we have no evidence that Percy associates all alcohol with Gabe. Alcoholic drinks aren’t just foul smelling hard liquors. There are a million different forms that you can consume alcohol in - some of which don’t even smell like alcohol, and barely taste like it. And in The Chalice of the Gods, it’s said that Sally drinks a glass of wine every night. And Percy thinks Sally hangs the freaking moon. So if his mom drinks, he definitely doesn’t believe that alcoholic beverages = the enemy. And here’s the thing, if Annabeth and Piper and Leo were all drinking and having a good time, like college students do, and they go “Hey Percy, come sit and have a drink with us!” there’s a very good chance that he’s so comfortable with his best friends, and just wants to let loose and be a college kid, that he wouldn’t even think about Gabe. He’d just be like “Sounds fun! Count me in!” But I don’t know. That’s the point. I don’t know. Maybe he would, maybe he wouldn’t. I truly think it could go either way. And even if he does drink, maybe he never - not even once - gets drunk. Maybe he’d drink in college and as a young adult, but when he becomes a father one day, he decides he doesn’t want his children to ever smell so much as a drop of alcohol on his breath, and therefore completely stops drinking. Or maybe he doesn’t ever like it, even in college. Or maybe he’s like his mom, and he and Annabeth just have a glass of wine with dinner. Who knows?
Not us. That’s what I’m saying. WE don’t know.
I’m not saying we can’t have headcanons based on what we know about him. I have a million. But the point is, I feel like we can’t try to pretend like we actually know what Percy wouldn’t do. As a fandom, we analyze him and his choices WAY more than he ever thinks about a single choice. He definitely does not think about his life and his actions as much as we do. (I’m not saying that he’s dumb or doesn’t contemplate his life and his actions, but he doesn’t nearly do it to the degree that we do.) Us, we pretend like it’s simple math. (Our first mistake, since math is consistent and full of rules, which is the exact opposite of Percy’s character.) We go “okay luke did this and gabe did this so therefore percy would never do this.” But Percy doesn’t think that way most of the time, especially not in heat of the moment matters. The only thing we 100% know about Percy is that he will always be loyal to his loved ones. But even then, we don’t know what that loyalty will look like. Is it sacrificing himself for someone? Is it murdering the enemy? Is it manipulating someone else? Percy lives in the moment. He doesn’t often think too much before he acts. He just acts. Whether it’s in a life of death situation, or his after school activity for the day. He is unpredictable, like the ocean. It’s one of his defining traits.
Honestly, I think that’s why annabeth is so drawn to him. With everyone else, she can read them super easily and know their next move. But with Percy, she has no idea. Which is frustrating to her, but also exciting. It’s a big part of her initial attraction to him. It’s also why many of us like him so much. We don’t know what’s coming next, and we never know what he will do in a situation. Like, how could we possibly know what he would or wouldn’t do when HE doesn’t even know? Half the time I don’t think Rick himself even knows.
We become so sure that Percy wouldn’t do something because we understand his character so well, right? But I think the truth is, the minute we become certain about what Percy would or wouldn’t do, is the minute we don’t understand his character at all.
Thank you for reading my analysis of Percy on why we can’t reliably analyze Percy
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bluetimeombre · 9 months ago
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⭒❃.✮:▹Call it what you want to, part 4!
[finally!! Here’s part 4, sorry it took so long to get up, I’ve been working on many other things that I want to share. Hope you like this one, the next part will be the final FINAL]
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liked by... tchalamet, florencepugh, zendaya, tomblyth, tayrussell & others
yourusername: happy birthday tchalamet!! one of these days you'll bring back lil timmy tim. see you soon!!
1.1m likes 603k comments
user: 'see you soon?!' they're happening!
user: yourusername being the biggest timmy tim fan is the best thing ever
user: i love them
tchalamet: thank you daisy, my daisy
yourusername liked his comment
tchalamet: can't wait to see you
user: ur honour, they're in live
user: HE CALLS HER MY DAISY LIKE THEIR CHARACTERS IN WONKA IM DECEACED
user: hate to be tom rn
user: catch up, they're not together
user: they're not!?
user: happy birthday timmy
user: she's so sweet, urg love her
user: parents
user: i LOVED WONKA
user: isn't timmy in new york and she's been seen alone in london? does that mean they're going to each other
user: we are being fed
user: i swear he was just with kylie
user: they're so cute, you can tell timothee is so in love with her
⭒❃.✮:▹
timothee chalamet is texting ... you
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⭒❃.✮:▹
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tchalamet posted on his story…
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Caption, 28!
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liked by … tomblyth, joshandresrivera, tchalamet, zendaya & others
yourusername: nyc, treat me kindly xoxo
903k likes 655k comments
user: cute!!!!
user: dying rn
user: they’re together for the new year!!! r u kidding me!!!
user: looks like we know what timmy has planned for new years
user: PLS THEYRE so cute
user: no hate to my parents or I’ll kill you
user: mom, I’m going back to dads house
tomblyth: is that my shirt?
yourusername: u mean the shirt you LITERALLY gave me, stfu
user: not together my ass!!!!
user: tomblyth and yourusername all the way
user: she went to new york for his birthday and for new years, she’s in love with him
user: tchalamet and yourusername >>>
user: her and tom are so cute but as friends
user: her and timmy are literal goals
⭒❃.✮:▹
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user: GUYS!!! LOOK AT THEM AHH, tchalamet and yourusername at his apartment in New York! They’re so IN LOVE
101k likes 45k comments
user: WHAT
user: what about Tom :(((((
user: she basically just lied in her vanity fair to make herself not look like a whore
user: slut
user: awwww I love them
user: she’s leading tom on
user: she was literally making out with tom like two months ago
user: how could she do this?
user: timmy needs to leave her
user: save timmy!
⭒❃.✮:▹
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liked by…. yourusername, tchalamet, rachelzegler & hunterschafer
tomblyth: if you don’t have anything nice to say about one of my favourite FRIENDS then kindly shut the fuck up
1.3m likes comments restricted
⭒❃.✮:▹
taglist: @darlingisntit @hazzapotter @gotta-go-now @lucy-loaf @drewskeyyx @ennycutie @sparklingsounds @hoely-maria @callsignwidow @kodzuvk @dangelnleif @coconut-dreamz @destrolid @hermionelove @popejar @yesimwriting @slytherhoes @peachesandmon @zunin-msty (thank you all for enjoying it!!!!!
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sansaorgana · 1 month ago
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📻 PLAYLIST — LEADER OF THE PACK
TRACK 1. — HE'S A GOOD GUY (YES, HE IS) BY THE MARVELETTES ⏮ ⏸ ⏭
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PAIRING — Benny Cross x fem!Reader
SUMMARY — On the first day of high school you meet a new friend. Your parents say he's from the wrong side of the tracks but you can't be convinced as you develop a crush on him, not knowing yet that it is only the beginning of a much bigger adventure you are going to have with Benny Cross in the next few years.
AUTHOR’S NOTE — The gif is NOT a faceclaim – the Reader's looks are not described. I just wanted the vibe of a retro high school and it's not even the correct era lol I have no idea yet how many parts this story will be but I missed writing for Austin's characters and I wanted to finally write down the idea I've had for a while now. Also, this time I decided to lowkey use the playlist format since this sort of music is one of my favourite genres (old r&b, soul, doo wop etc.) 🥰 Of course you don't have to actually listen to those songs! 😅
WARNINGS — era accurate sexism and mindset of characters (I assumed it would be like late 1950s / early 1960s and they are from a small town), Reader and Benny are minors in this part (they are not even a couple, though)
WORD COUNT — 5,470
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
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LEADER OF THE PACK (TRACK 1.)
“Have you made any new friends at school?” Your mother asked with a smile when you were chewing on a steak with mashed potatoes. You nearly sighed at her question, trying very hard not to roll your eyes. Why were parents always asking that?
Well, to be fair, you had never had many friends.
There was Rachel whom you had known ever since you two had been toddlers. Rachel was definitely your best friend. Back in the day there had also been Tammy. There had always been the three of you everywhere but for about a year now Tammy had been acting differently. Ever since she had started dating, that is. Her boyfriend Louis was in the football team and he wasn’t even saying hi to you or Rachel. 
“I don’t know if it counts as making a friend but…” you started, nervously fidgeting with the fork in your hand. The person you were about to mention was a boy and you were scared of everyone’s reactions.
Your mother would tease, probably. Father and older brother would begin their interrogation as if it was anything serious.
“Miss Cooper sat me with this one boy,” you finally revealed and you watched your father lowering the newspaper he had been hiding behind until now. He raised an eyebrow at you after exchanging a meaningful look with your older brother Luke.
“Why did she tell you to sit with a boy?” Your mother smiled.
“What boy?” Your father asked, harshly.
“I’m supposed to help him in class. He’s nice but not the brightest, if you get me,” you tried to explain. “He’s not stupid – just slow when it comes to studying,” you quickly added.
“So he’s stupid,” Luke rolled his eyes.
“No!” You defended your new friend immediately.
“Who is he?” Your father repeated the question, irritated already that you had ignored him the first time and that you were fighting with your brother. Women in that household were supposed to be quiet and obedient.
He hadn’t survived the war for his own daughter to act like a brat – that was what your father was often saying. He was using the war to guilt trip you, your mother and Luke whenever he thought it was needed. 
“His name is Benny,” you nodded at your father. “Benjamin Cross,” you added.
Your parents looked at each other with a quiet sigh.
“What is it?” You asked and looked at your brother questioningly but he seemed to be as oblivious as you were why your parents reacted that way.
“I’m sure he is a nice boy…” your mother started softly, “but he is not from a good family.”
“They’re from the wrong side of the tracks,” your father explained. “Doesn’t surprise me that the boy is slow. I’ve never seen his father sober. I think he’s lost every job he has ever had.”
“And his mother?” Luke asked, curious already. One thing about your brother was that he was extremely nosy and an awful gossip.
“What about his mother? I haven’t seen her in ages,” your father looked at your mother.
“I do believe that Mrs. Cross passed away some time ago,” your mother hummed to herself. “Yes! I remember now,” she nodded eagerly. “She died two years ago. Evie told me about it last winter when we were Christmas shopping.”
“What Evie?” Your father asked.
“You know Evie! The one living down the road. Jack’s wife, that accountant.”
“Ah, yeah, yeah, Jack’s wife,” your father picked up the newspaper again. “Either way, Benny Cross is not your new friend,” he decided as he gave you a stern look. You felt your cheeks heating up. “He’s just a boy that Miss Cooper sat you with to help him. That’s it,” he finished and hid himself behind the newspaper again.
“And if he ever bothers you, just tell me!” Luke pointed his finger at you and you nodded nervously, going back to your meal.
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Even though your father had decided that Benny Cross was not your friend, it was difficult to remember about that. Perhaps his grades were not good and his clothes were poor but who ever cared about such things? What mattered was that he knew how to make you laugh even though most of the time he was a quiet guy.
In fact, he was making you laugh so much that Miss Cooper angrily separated you two after three weeks of sitting together. She gave you a scolding look and said those words that would make your blood run cold under any other circumstances:
“I am so disappointed in you, (Y/N).”
But now you didn’t really care. You were just angry that she separated you from Benny. You introduced him to Rachel during lunch break but Rachel was not convinced.
“I don’t mind him. And you know that I couldn’t care less about his family!” She gasped when you accused her of being prejudiced. “It’s just… I think he might have a bad influence on you. On the both of us. We shouldn’t hang out with him for too long. But it’s very noble that you want to help him with his grades,” she assured you quickly when she spotted annoyance on your face.
“Why noble?” You asked her. “I didn’t even think of that. I just want to help my friend,” you explained.
“Oh, admit it!” Rachel giggled. “You fancy him.”
“What?!” Your eyes widened and you stopped walking, adjusting the books in your hand. Rachel chuckled and stopped as well, turning around to face you.
“Oh, (Y/N), come on, I have eyes, too. He’s handsome with those baby blue eyes and golden hair. And I’m sure you haven’t missed those muscles under his shirt. If it’s true what they say about his family, I am convinced he is used to physical work,” she covered her mouth to hide another giggle escaping her lips.
Truth to be told, you had never seen Benny Cross as a potential romantic interest… until now. You swallowed thickly at Rachel’s words, realising they were all true – he was a handsome boy with a devilish smile.
“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” Rachel assured you. “But please, don’t become another Tammy and don’t leave me behind just because you have a crush!”
“I won’t!” You promised her with widened eyes and you grabbed her by her wrist to squeeze it. “I promise.”
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Ever since that conversation with Rachel, you began to treat Benny a little differently. When he was making you laugh, you were trying to make your laughter sound more girly as you would throw your head back and fix your hair in a feminine manner. Instead of making silly faces at him, you started to cover your face with your hand to show him how flustered you were becoming. And for the very first time you didn’t spend your pocket money on a new record or a book – no, you spent it on a new pastel pink ribbon for your hair even though you knew that Benny would teasingly pull on it at school.
His hands were often dirty so whenever he pulled on it, he was leaving a small mark on the soft fabric of the ribbon. If it was any other boy, you would get frustrated and angry but you would never get angry at Benny – in fact, you were laying on the bed in the evenings, listening to your dreamy records and brushing the ribbon with your fingertips, tracing the marks left behind by Benny’s dirty fingers.
You never minded the dirty hands – they only meant he was working hard. He revealed to you that he had to do a lot of jobs after school to help his father to earn enough money to get through the month. In the end, instead of getting a thanks, he would often get a beating from his drunk old man. He was never talking kindly about him and you couldn’t blame Benny for that. There was a lot of hatred in your new friend whenever he mentioned his father and those were the moments when you were quite scared but also intrigued – when his pretty eyes filled with sparkles and hatred. He would quickly soften again, though.
It was obvious, though, that he had no time to study after school or do his homework. You were trying to help him but he was too ashamed to invite you over to his place and you were scared of taking you home because your father would not be happy about it. You never said anything about it but it was as if Benny knew anyway – he never proposed to go to your place after school. So, the only time you had to help him study was during the lunch break.
Rachel was sometimes sitting with you two but she was not happy about it. She had you all for herself after school, though, so she was trying to be understanding. When it came to Benny’s friends… Well, he didn’t have them.
Benny was too strong and too mean looking to be pushed around so the kids just left him alone and let him be. However, the boys from the football team – Tammy’s boyfriend included – were often making comments about Benny being stupid, poor or weird. You were always telling him not to listen and he was shrugging his arms, but it was hard to believe that he truly didn’t care about such things. They always had an impact on a person, especially so young.
The school in your small Illinois town was not big so your brother Luke was quickly told that you spend most of your lunch breaks sitting by the same table in the corner of the cafeteria with Benny Cross.
“I would like to ask (Y/N) about something,” he said during dinner on that day and everyone looked at you. You froze, already expecting the worst. You loved your brother because he was your family but you didn’t like him – too often he was trying to act like your father.
“What is it?” Your mother asked, worryingly.
“I was told that Miss Cooper separated (Y/N) and that Cross boy a few weeks ago because they were loud in class. Yet, I still see them spending lunch breaks together,” he revealed and your heart skipped a beat.
“You were loud in class?!” Your father snapped and you swallowed a lump in your throat as your hands began to shake.
“I… I am sorry…” You looked down.
“Don’t be angry at her! I am sure it was that boy’s fault!” Your mother defended you.
“Perhaps. Why does she still spend time with him then?” Your father observed you intensely.
“I… I want to help him,” you explained quietly. “I help him to study, that’s it. He is nice to me and it’s not like he’s stupid, he really is not!” You exclaimed after spotting Luke snorting at your words. “But he doesn’t have time to study after school.”
“Well, that is so noble of you, darling,” your mother caressed your arm but you flinched a little at the word that she used – noble. “We should be glad that our daughter is so helpful and compassionate,” she laid her eyes on your father.
“Being around that boy means trouble,” your father shook his head. “I cannot punish you for having a good heart,” he sighed. “Women tend to be too weak. That is why you have fathers and husbands to show you the right path.”
“And brothers,” Luke nodded but your father did not comment on that.
“I don’t want you to start getting worse grades because you put too much effort into helping somebody else,” your father pointed his finger at you.
“But daddy! I learn as well when I help Benny to study!” You protested.
“While you are repeating the basics with him, you could already study more advanced subjects yourself. Aren’t you always saying that you want to go to college one day?” He furrowed his brows and you shut your mouth. The college argument was always making you feel guilty, too. It was almost as bad as the war one. “I am not saving my hard-earned money for you to go to college only to find out you are wasting your time on a deadbeat Cross boy!”
“He is a lost cause, sweetheart, you must realise that,” your mother was much more gentle when she caressed your cheek but the meaning of her words was the same after all. “I know it’s sad but the truth is he is going to end up like his father and we cannot do anything to stop it. It’s a waste of time to try.”
“Enough,” your father raised his hand. “I don’t want to talk about that boy ever again.”
And just like that the rest of the meal went quietly with your mother occasionally trying to cheer your father up by bringing up some random facts from her boring day full of shopping, cooking and cleaning. 
After dinner, you stayed in the kitchen to help her clean the table and wash the dishes while your father and Luke were free to go and spend that time on whatever they wished.
You were drying the plates with a cloth, biting on your lower lip and waiting for the right time to start a private conversation with your mother.
“He’s nice to me, mommy,” you finally whispered.
“Hm?” She turned her head around to meet your gaze.
“Benny Cross. He is nice to me and he makes me laugh,” you tried to explain in the simplest way possible. “He is my friend now. I can’t just… I can’t just stop hanging around with him. He doesn’t have anyone.”
“He surely has some friends,” your mother furrowed her brows.
“Not at school, no. He mentioned some guys from his street but they don’t go to school anymore,” you explained.
“They’re older?”
“Not much. They just… They dropped out or got expelled,” you lowered your voice and your mother sighed, extending her hand to give you another plate to dry. “Mom! I know what it sounds like but I don’t think he’s a lost cause. I think a push into the right direction could save his life,” you were desperate to make her understand. “We cannot claim that we are good people when we turn our backs on those in need.”
You felt bad for referring to Benny as someone in need and you were sure that his pride would be bruised but you also were aware that it was the only argument that could convince your mother – she wanted to be a good person above anything else. She wanted to be known for her kindness and her nice family as if the whole meaning of her life revolved only around how others perceived her. She wanted to always be soft and feminine – just like your father wanted her to be. And she wanted the exact same from you but you had ambitions that both scared and impressed her. Like the fact you wanted to go to college or you had the courage to stand up for yourself and argue with your father sometimes.
“If it doesn’t interfere with your own studying then I don’t see a reason why you can’t help him,” she sighed as she nodded in a whisper. “However, I don’t think your father should know about it. I’ll try to talk to Luke and make him understand so he doesn’t snitch on you again,” she assured you and your eyes brightened.
“Thank you!” You squealed happily and leaned in to kiss her cheek. “Mom?”
“Yes, darling?”
“Can I invite Benny here after school one day? Maybe on Friday? We don’t have many classes so we’d have a few hours before daddy comes back from work and Luke has his baseball practice at that time,” you tried to give her as many reasons as possible for her to agree.
“I don’t know, (Y/N)... I’m not sure if it’s a good idea,” your mother shook her head and went back to washing the dishes. You sighed and didn’t say anything else but you could see that she was intensely thinking about something. “On the other hand…” she started, “...your father is going out with his friends from work for dinner this Friday. He won’t be back until late in the evening.”
“So you agree?” Your eyes widened. “Oh, mom, you would meet him and I’m sure you’re going to see what I see… That he’s a nice boy!”
“Alright… But don’t make me regret that,” she gave you a scolding – but still soft – look.
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Benny was trying to play it cool because he always tried to come off as unbothered by anything but you could see that he was nervous. He had one class less than you on that day but he promised to wait for you behind the school building and when you ran up to him with books in your hand, you spotted him throwing a cigarette on the ground before stepping on it with his shoe to put it out.
“Benny!” You gasped at the sight. You had no idea he was smoking. “My mom won’t like it when she smells the cigarette smoke on you!” You pointed out.
“She’ll think it’s my old man’s,” Benny only shrugged his arms and took the books from you to carry them for you. That sweet gesture made you forget in an instant about his awful habit you had just found out about.
You walked down the street to your house and you caught yourself struggling with a very odd mix of feelings – you felt proud walking down the street next to Benny Cross who was holding your books. His jeans were worn out, his blond hair ruffled and his steps heavy – no other boy around here looked or walked like him. And because of that… You felt a little ashamed, too. Just a little. And only because some of your neighbours were looking you up and down after you said good afternoon to them. You just hated the way they were staring.
Lost in such thoughts, you spotted that Benny was looking around uncomfortably. He was watching the houses and the perfectly trimmed lawns, the white picket fences and flowers planted in the gardens.
“Does it look different where you live?” You asked, naively. It was hard to imagine that not every neighbourhood where people lived didn’t look the same.
“You’ve never been there, have you?” Was all Benny asked as he cracked a sad smile with a hint of pity.
“N-no,” you admitted and shook your head, embarrassed of yourself.
“That’s alright, doll. I’m glad you haven’t and I hope you never will,” he nodded firmly.
“It’s here!” Thankfully, you had a reason to change the subject because Benny had nearly walked past your house. You grabbed him by his sleeve and pulled him towards your front door.
You pushed them open and walked inside as he began to fix his hair with his free hand and his face turned a shade paler.
“Mom, we’re home!” You announced and took your shoes off. Benny mirrored you and took his off as well but he seemed to be pretty surprised that it was your custom.
Your mother entered the hallway from the kitchen, wiping her hands in the apron. Her smile was cautious and soft as if she was approaching a wild, stray kitten abandoned by the road.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. (Y/L/N),” Benny straightened his back at the sight of her.
“Good afternoon, Benny. (Y/N)’s been talking a lot about you,” she hesitated but eventually extended her hand towards him and you hissed at her because you didn’t want her to mention such things that you were talking about him and all that. It was embarrassing.
“Mom!” You whined as Benny looked around, trying to find a spot where to put the books he had been carrying for you all the way home. You took them from him with an encouraging smile and he nodded at you before shaking your mom’s hand.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, ma’am,” Benny said.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, too, Benny. (Y/N) mentioned to me you are going to study, yes? Go to her room now and I’ll call you for dinner when the time comes,” your mother announced and your heart skipped a beat. You had no idea Benny could actually stay for the meal.
“Um… Benny, go upstairs,” you handed him the books again. “My room is on the left,” you added. “Wait for me there,” you said and he nodded.
You followed your mother to the kitchen.
“What is it?” She asked you. “I thought you’d be happy that I invited him.”
“I am! But what about Luke?” You squinted your eyes. You knew that your brother would not approve of that.
“He informed me this morning that he is taking Patsy on a date after practice. He won’t be home until evening,” your mother informed you.
“Patsy?” You chuckled. She was two years older than you – just like your brother. And she was everybody’s dream, so you were told. Beautiful, from a good family, obedient, with good grades. A perfect woman and a wife material.
Something you were scared you would never be.
“Yes, Patsy. I am so happy for him,” your mother grinned widely and you smiled, too, although you didn’t care about your brother enough to be happy for him. In fact, you gritted your teeth that everything in his life seemed to go so perfectly as always. Your father’s golden boy.
Would your life be similar if you had been born a man, too?
Either way, you hugged your mom and ran upstairs to join Benny inside your room. He was standing in the middle of it and looking around in a way that made your cheeks heat up. It was a typical girly room like millions of others but now you somehow felt embarrassed about it.
“It’s a bit childish,” you admitted.
“No, it’s very pretty,” Benny shrugged his arms and blushed when his eyes met yours. “I think it suits you,” he admitted and remained standing there awkwardly.
“Thank you,” You sat on the chair by the desk where he had put your books already and you pointed at your bed to let him know that he could sit on the edge of it. He did that but very carefully as if he was scared of making your sheets dirty.
You gathered the books and moved up to sit next to him so there would be no more distance between you two. You started with doing your homeworks together and you quickly realised your father might have been right about something – Benny would be a distraction. You couldn’t stop staring at his face. At his plump lips that made you think of nothing but kissing, at his beautiful, long eyelashes that were dark even though his hair was golden. Speaking of his hair – it was so fluffy and had different shades  of blond depending on the layers. You were counting all the moles on his cheeks and getting lost in his ocean blue eyes. Whenever your hands brushed each other while trying to turn the page at the same time, you couldn’t help but notice his big hands with long, thin fingers. Those were very pretty hands even though they were rough from all the physical work he was usually doing after school.
He was helping people for money – mowing the lawns, fixing sinks, carrying heavy things, all kinds of stuff. But what he enjoyed the most was fixing cars and motorbikes. He had revealed that to you recently and you thought it was adorable that he had a passion and it could actually be turned into a solid job later in life.
The longer you were explaining things to him, the faster he was understanding them. You were pretty convinced by now that he was not stupid at all.
“Benny?” You batted your eyelashes and he turned his head around to look deep into your eyes.
“Yeah?”
“Can you promise me something?” You dared to ask.
“What is it, doll?” He smirked. He would often call you a doll and perhaps you should have been offended by it but in fact it was causing you to have butterflies in your stomach.
“Promise me that you’re gonna finish high school, alright?” You furrowed your brows.
Benny was visibly surprised by your words. He didn’t get to answer, though, because the door opened widely without knocking and your mother walked inside. You and Benny moved away from each other slightly.
“The dinner is ready,” she announced with a smile. She seemed to be pretty happy with the sight of the open books and notebooks scattered everywhere. You nodded at her and you stood up to follow her downstairs. Benny walked behind you. “How was the studying?” Your mother asked when you were sitting by the table.
“It is going well, ma’am. Your daughter should become a teacher,” Benny smiled at her.
“She might! (Y/N) wants to go to college, has she told you?” Your mother asked him while putting salad and chicken onto his plate. “Will it be enough for you, Benny? Such a strong boy like you must eat a lot,” she chuckled before turning around to put the food on your plate as well.
“It is enough, ma’am. It looks delicious, thank you. I can’t remember when was the last time I had vegetables for dinner,” Benny chuckled nervously while you and your mother exchanged meaningful looks. You both were sorry for him.
“Well, you can eat as much of this salad as you wish. My husband and son are not dining with us this evening,” your mother explained softly before taking her seat and you all began to eat.
“Thank you,” Benny blushed.
The rest of the meal went pretty calm since Benny was a quiet boy most of the time. In fact, it made you feel special that he liked to make you laugh because he was not very fun with others around. He was an outsider towards most but you probably had made him like you because you had treated him kindly and you had tried to help him from the very beginning. You hadn’t judged him and you hadn’t made it feel like an act of charity.
Despite being of a quiet nature, Benny was answering your mother’s questions politely and, oh dear, she asked a lot. Lots of her questions were about Benny’s family and you just knew that she was itching to ask about how Benny's mother had died but thankfully she didn’t actually ask that.
She was in the middle of telling a funny story when all of you froze at the sound of the front door opening. You and your mother looked at each other, scared, and that was when Luke entered the dining room and winced at the sight of Benny.
You sighed with relief at the sight of him because your father would be a much worse possibility but it still did not mean that it was alright. You were nervous and so was your mother. She decided to play it cool.
“Oh, hi, honey!” She greeted her son. “How was the practice? How was your date with Patsy?” She tried to sound cheerful.
“Both went fine,” Luke answered with a clenched jaw as he looked Benny up and down. “What is (Y/N)’s… friend doing here?” He asked rudely and your mother gave him a scolding look.
“Well, that is not a nice way to greet a guest, is it? (Y/N) invited Benny to help him with homework and I wanted him to stay for the meal,” your mother explained.
Luke approached Benny with an extended hand as you watched the interaction with fear. You knew that for men it was some sort of a game of dominance. Benny hesitated for a very long and tense moment, staring at your brother’s hand with contempt. Finally, he stood up and shook it back. You could see his knuckles turning white from the strength he was using to show off how firm his hold could be.
“Nice to meet you,” Luke gave him a fake smile.
“Nice to meet you, too,” Benny nodded and sat back on his chair. “You been on a date with Patsy Carter?” He asked.
“Yes. Do you know her?” If Luke’s eyes could kill, Benny would be dead now.
“Nah, never spoke to ‘er but you know, it’s hard not to know who she is,” Benny winked at him playfully as you chewed on the inside of your cheek. You couldn’t understand why Benny wanted to provoke your brother so much. The situation was bad enough already.
“Are you insinuating something, Cross?” Luke’s fists clenched.
“Lucas!” Your mother tried to calm him down.
“Just sayin’ she’s a nice piece,” Benny commented and you looked away, trying to hide your anger.
You couldn’t believe that Benny said such a disrespectful thing about another girl – a girl your brother dated – in front of your own mother. It made you feel like a fool to ever defend him in front of your family. Perhaps they had been right – he was from the bad side of town and his ways were too different to try to change them.
“Don’t test me, kid,” Luke drawled out. Thankfully, that was all he said before walking out of the room. Your mother looked at you, panicked, before standing up and following her son to talk to him.
“Why have you done that?” You asked, sniffling your tears back when you eventually turned your head around to meet Benny’s gaze. He seemed to be confused why you reacted this way. “You have no idea for how long I have been defending you and…”
“Oh, thank you, doll,” he interrupted you and his voice was full of irony. “The tramp you defended turns out to be a bum? How shocking,” he commented and you spotted that awful sparkle in his eye that would often show up whenever he spoke of his father. But why was his anger aimed at you now?
“I didn’t mean to offend you…” your voice began to shake. “I just thought we were friends. You were nice to me.”
Benny sighed. He tilted his head as he examined your face and you just knew that he was thinking of you as naive.
“‘m sorry,” Benny mumbled out. “Didn’t want to make you sad. I just don’t like bein’ treated like your big brother treated me,” he explained.
“I know,” you calmed down immediately. “I’m sorry about him, too,” you assured him and glanced at the clock on the wall. “My daddy’s going to be home soon. I think it’s time for you to go now,” you told him and you were scared he would get angry again at that but he understood. Benny nodded and left the table. You followed him to walk him out.
“Tell your ma that the food was great, ‘kay? And apologise to her from me,” he asked while putting his shoes back on.
“Yeah, sure, Benny,” you nodded and hugged your own self. You didn’t want to say goodbye yet. “See you tomorrow at school.”
“See you,” Benny winked at you and squeezed your arm. “You’re a nice girl, doll. Thanks for everythin’,” he added before going out and those few words were enough to make your heart swell in your chest.
You watched him walk away with his hands inside the pockets of his jeans. You were sure he would go back to his place on foot while whistling some song he had heard on the radio earlier. That was his way.
When you went back to the dining room, your mother was already cleaning the plates.
“Benny’s just left. He wanted me to tell you that the food was great and he wanted to apologise for–” you started.
“Save it,” she interrupted you and looked up to meet your gaze. She was angry and you were taken aback by that. “It was the last time this boy was here, do you hear me?” She asked, harshly, but she gave you no time to answer. “I managed to beg Lucas to keep it a secret but he is not happy about it and I can’t blame him.”
“But mom, I am sure you could see that Benny is a nice boy. He only was rude when Lucas acted like a–”
“I said, save it,” your mother snapped and you shut your mouth immediately. “Help me with the dishes now, will you? Let’s not talk about it anymore.”
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MASTERLIST
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atriza · 2 months ago
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Unbreakable Bond pt. 2
Yandere Five Hargreeves x Reader
Part 1
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Summary: Y/N wakes up in a secluded, dimly lit room, still under the effects of a sedative administered by Five Hargreeves. As the memories of the night before resurface, Y/N realizes the extent of Five's obsession with her. Despite her pleas for freedom, Five insists that his actions are driven by love and the need to protect her from the dangers of the world. Trapped and powerless, Y/N comes to the terrifying conclusion that Five has meticulously planned everything to ensure they are together, leaving her with no hope of escape.
Word count: 1010 words
**Content Warning:**
This story contains dark and potentially distressing themes, including obsessive behavior, violence, manipulation, and psychological distress. It portrays a relationship that is unhealthy and toxic, where one character exhibits controlling and possessive tendencies that lead to extreme actions.
If you are sensitive to these themes or find them triggering, please consider skipping this story. R
Have Fun Reading!
Y/N awoke slowly, her mind thick with the remnants of the sedative that Five had used to put her to sleep. The fog in her brain made it hard to focus, and for a moment, she wasn’t sure where she was. The room was dimly lit, with only the faintest traces of sunlight filtering through the thick curtains that covered the windows. It was quiet—unnervingly so.
As her senses returned, so did the memory of what had happened. Her breath caught in her throat as the events of the night before flooded back—Five’s intense gaze, his words that bordered on madness, and the chilling realization that she was trapped.
Panic surged through her veins, and she tried to move, but her limbs felt heavy, weighed down by the lingering effects of the drug. She managed to push herself into a sitting position, her heart pounding in her chest as she took in her surroundings. The room was sparsely furnished, with nothing but a bed, a small table, and a single chair. The walls were bare, the floors cold and uninviting. It was as if the room had been stripped of anything that could provide comfort or a means of escape.
She forced herself to breathe, to think rationally. There had to be a way out. She couldn’t stay here—not like this, not with him.
As if on cue, the door creaked open, and Five stepped inside. He was as composed as ever, his expression calm, almost serene, as he closed the door behind him. He carried a tray in his hands, which he set down on the small table beside the bed.
“Good morning,” he said, his voice devoid of the tension that had filled it the night before. “I brought you some breakfast.”
Y/N’s eyes darted to the tray, then back to Five. The sight of the food did nothing to ease the knot of fear in her stomach. “Five,” she began, her voice shaky, “let me go. Please. This isn’t right.”
Five’s expression remained unchanged, though there was a hint of something darker in his eyes. “You’re still confused,” he replied calmly, as if he hadn’t heard her plea. “I know this is all a lot to take in, but it’s for the best. I’m keeping you safe, Y/N. This world is full of danger, and you don’t need to face it alone anymore.”
“I don’t need you to protect me like this,” Y/N argued, trying to keep her voice steady. “I’m not in danger. You’re the one who’s putting me in danger by keeping me here!”
Five’s gaze hardened slightly, and he took a step closer, his presence filling the small room. “I’m the only one who can protect you,” he said firmly. “I’ve seen what happens in this world—what people are capable of. You don’t understand, Y/N. They’ll hurt you. They’ll take you away from me. I can’t let that happen.”
Y/N shook her head, her desperation growing. “No one’s trying to take me away from you, Five! You’re the one who’s hurting me right now. This isn’t love—it’s obsession!”
He flinched at the word, a flash of pain crossing his features before he quickly masked it with his usual stoic expression. “You’re wrong,” he said softly. “This is love, Y/N. It’s more than love. It’s destiny. We’re meant to be together, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure that happens.”
She felt a chill run down her spine as his words sank in. There was no reasoning with him—his mind was made up, his reality distorted by his obsession. “You’re not thinking clearly,” she said, trying to sound calm despite the fear that gripped her. “This isn’t you, Five. The real you wouldn’t do this.”
His eyes softened, and for a moment, Y/N thought she saw a flicker of doubt. But then it was gone, replaced by the cold determination that had driven him to this point. “I’m more myself now than I’ve ever been,” he replied quietly. “I’ve finally found something worth fighting for—worth living for. And I won’t let anyone take that away.”
Y/N’s heart sank. She could see now that there was no reasoning with him, no convincing him to let her go. He was too far gone, lost in his own twisted reality.
Five reached out and gently cupped her face in his hand, his touch both tender and possessive. “You’ll see, Y/N,” he murmured, his thumb brushing against her cheek. “In time, you’ll understand. You’ll realize that this is the only way we can be together.”
Tears welled up in her eyes as she looked at him, the man she had once cared for, now a stranger consumed by his own obsession. “Please, Five,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “Don’t do this. I can’t live like this.”
He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment before he pulled away. “You don’t have to worry about anything anymore,” he said, his voice soothing. “I’ll take care of everything. You just need to rest.”
With that, he turned and left the room, the door clicking shut behind him. Y/N was left alone in the cold, silent room, her mind racing as she tried to think of a way out.
But as the minutes ticked by, her hope began to dwindle. Five had thought of everything, planned every detail meticulously. He had made sure there was no way for her to escape, no way for anyone to find her.
She was trapped—his prisoner, his obsession, his fixed point in a world that had spiraled out of control.
And there was nothing she could do to change that.
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ellethespaceunicorn · 2 years ago
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I Want a Little Sugar in My Bowl
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Title: I Want a Little Sugar in My Bowl
Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI
Pairing: Napoleon Solo x Reader
Fandom: The Man from U.N.C.L.E.
Word Count: 2.5K
Summary: Napoleon wines and dines.
Warnings: barely any 60s references so if you were looking for that I'm sorry, incorrect table manners, a little bit of Daddy kink, unprotected p-in-v because these are fictional characters
A/N: The title is taken from the song “I Want a Little Sugar in My Bowl” by Nina Simone. Literally the naughtiest and sweetest title at the exact same time. A very sexy song, if you have never heard it, do yourself a favor!!! Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best. 
Dividers by: @saradika
Support/Reblog banner by me
Cover Art by me
My Masterlist 
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“What is a lovely little rose like you doing all alone in a place like this?” 
The voice startles you as you sip your espresso at the corner cafe. Of course, being alone in a cafe had its downsides. This wasn’t the first time you were approached here. This wasn’t the first time you were approached today, even. You look up to see who the voice belongs to and you almost drop your teeny cup.
The jawline alone had your panties in a cinch. But the eyes, those are what draw you in. The blue of his eyes was like out of a painting, and you could hardly say you’d ever seen anyone with a tiny golden-brown spot in their left eye. Was that his only flaw? From here, it appeared so. The suit he wore was perfectly tailored. His shoes were shiny like a new penny. You were shaken from your ogling by his voice again.
“Have I passed inspection, Miss…?” You give your name and he tests it out on his tongue. “A beautiful name for a beautiful rose,” With a flick of his wrist, a gorgeous and very real rose appears in his hands and he hands it to you.
You sputter out a laugh as you reach for the rose. He tilts his head as he watches you lift the flower to your nose, inhaling its sweet scent. He walks around the table and sits across from you, almost daring you to tell him to get lost. But, of course, you don’t. You are delighted to see where this may lead.
“So, what is a man dressed so well doing talking to a girl like me? Surely, you must be on your way to some type of important, or at least, fancy meeting?” You sit back, eyeing the man whose name you still haven’t caught.
“I’ll let you in a little secret. I’ve seen you here before. I know you go to the local college and after class, you like to stop here for an espresso before boarding a train back to wherever it is that you live. You’ll be happy to know I have not followed you back to your home. But, sometimes you get a sweet treat. A cinnamon roll on Mondays, perhaps a cherry and cheese danish on Wednesdays, but on Fridays? You spring for something devilish.” He ends his sentence just as your slice of devil’s food cake is set in front of you by the waiter.
“You really have been watching me. A girl with a different head on her shoulders may be nervous knowing she’s being watched. But, you don’t scare me,” you smile at him and start to dig into your cake, “If anything, I’d love to know why you find me so interesting. I mean, there are girls here with shorter skirts than mine.”
“The skirt wasn’t exactly what I was after,” his eyes linger on your mouth as your fork slowly glides back out of it, “Company. That’s mostly what I’m after. Your company. Not theirs.”
“I don’t even know your name, Mr…” You eagerly wait to hear the mysterious man’s name.
“I’ll give you my name, but I’ll need a promise that I may cook you dinner. No dinner, no name. And we act like this little conversation never happened,” he licks his lips, watching you watching him, “So, what do you say, my little rose? Will I introduce myself or will I walk off, doomed to enjoy dinner alone?”
You set down your fork, suddenly uninterested in the last bite of your cake. But instead of pushing the plate to the side, you run your pointer finger through a bit of the icing left behind. Raising your hand and pushing your chair back, you saunter over to the man’s chair. Sitting in his lap, much to the chagrin of the other couples on the terrace. You wipe the icing on his bottom lip. Leaning in while keeping eye contact, you lick away the chocolate until you take his bottom lip between your teeth. His eyes close for but a second and the slightest grunt escapes between his lips and into your mouth.
“I believe I’ve made my intentions clear but I’ll make sure they are crystal. I’m not some delicate flower, I can handle myself. And as handsome and mysterious as you are, if you try anything I don’t feel comfortable with, I’ll handle you as well. We have an understanding, I presume?” 
“You presume correctly. And please, I didn’t call you a poppy or a tulip. You’re a rose. A beautiful flower, but the thorns are treacherous. I’ll make sure you keep those at bay.”
“You owe me a name, pretty boy.” You insist, adjusting your seating in his lap and feeling a hefty bulge underneath you.
“Napoleon Solo.”
“Let’s go, then, Napoleon. I’m famished and I could use something a bit more substantial than that tiny slice of cake.”
Napoleon rises, his hands on your hips as he sets you on your feet. He waits for you to pick up your belongings, walks around the table, and grabs your hand to lead you off the terrace. He walks you to his car, opening the door for you to get in. This was your last chance to change your mind, but, you were having way too much fun.
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You ride to his apartment building, and a valet takes the keys to his car before he opens the door for you to exit. A swanky place where it looks like the only people who can afford to stay here must have Esquire or some kind of title attached to their name. You decide to toss caution to the wind because it isn’t like you are staying here. It’s Napoleon who is, and you are is his guest.
You take the elevator up, making out with the tall and gorgeous stranger. The elevator rises as well as his hand up your skirt. Just as his hand reaches the top of your thigh, the elevator signals your arrival on the fourth floor. Napoleon takes your hand and leads you to Apartment 412. He unlocks the door and lets you enter first.
“So, my little rose, I was thinking for dinner I will make us Beef Bourguignon. And for dessert, what say we make it up as we go along?”
“As long as you don’t expect me to do all the cooking, I’m happy to sit back and eat and be merry, Napoleon.”
“Perfect, my little rose. Feel free to make yourself a drink, and do turn on some music. I do better with a bit of background noise.” 
You busy yourself with making an Old Fashioned, finding everything at your fingertips and ready to go. You take a sip and groan inwardly as the bourbon warms your insides. You walk from the little makeshift bar into the kitchen and offer Napoleon a sip. He applauds your drink-making skills and ushers you back out to the record player as he dons an apron and begins to cook.  
You busy yourself with looking at records while soon the smells of sauteed beef reach your nostrils. You only refresh your drink once while listening to Nina Simone Sing the Blues. Her dulcet tones woo you as the bourbon in your drink loosens you up. You don’t notice that you are being watched as Napoleon walks over and fixes himself a White Russian.
He watches as you sway and sing along with Nina. It’s only a matter of time before the timer in the kitchen sounds and he leaves you to your enjoyment of the music. He makes your plates, sets the table, and lights the few candles that sit therein. He pours you both a glass of pinot noir. His last step is to come and beckon you to your dinner. He does so by sidling up behind you and placing his hands gently on your shoulders as his lips dip down to your ears.
“Dinner’s ready, my little rose.” He takes your hand and leads you to the table, pulling your chair out for you in a gesture that wasn’t necessary but is quite romantic. If you weren’t already a bit light-headed from the Old Fashioned, that would have done it!
“Napoleon, this smells amazing. Are you sure you didn’t have some minions in the kitchen helping you to prepare this?”
“I promise, it was just me. Try it, tell me if it needs anything.”
You take a bite of the aromatic beef stew and it melts in your mouth. You can’t exactly help the satisfied groan that escapes your lips, much to the enjoyment of Napoleon.
“I take it you like it then?” The smug smile looks good on him, damn that man.
“Oh, I like it, Mr. Solo. You sure know your way to this woman’s heart. And that is through her stomach.”
He raises his glass of wine, and you raise yours as well. “To my little rose, may she only leave here satisfied. In every which way she chooses to be.”
You clink your glass against his and take a sip, knowing full well that you are going to sleep with this man before the night is over. Or at least, you hope to. You’d like to see what his face looks like in the throes of passion. And there is nothing sexier than a man who knows how to engage all of your senses in one meal.
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You finish dinner and wipe your mouth, feeling for all the world like a stuffed pig. You were happy and you were tipsy and you wanted Napoleon to know just how grateful you were. But weren’t you promised dessert?
“So, dessert then?” You ask. 
“You stay seated, I’ll get these out of the way before we start on dessert.” Napoleon wipes his own mouth and comes to collect your plates and take them to the kitchen. When he comes back to the table, he easily pulls your chair back and lifts you easily onto the dining room table. At your look of confusion, he smirks yet again. “Did I not tell you that I would be enjoying you as dessert, my little rose?”
“No, I don’t believe you mentioned that. But, I do believe we both will enjoy that. Do your worst,  Mr. Solo.” You position your thighs for Napoleon to remove your panties. He sits in your chair, pulling himself up to the table and setting your legs over his shoulders. 
He kisses your thighs slowly until you are whimpering for him to take you out of your misery. He obliges by pulling your ass to the very edge of the table and using the flat of his tongue to lick a strip up your sex. An inhuman sound exits your mouth and you have absolutely no fucks to give at this point. 
“You taste like Heaven, my little rose,” he kisses your swollen nub and looks up at you, “but how do you feel?” He uses a single finger to circle your button a couple of times before drawing a line to your entrance. He enters your core slowly and his finger is a perfect fit. Not too much, not too little. Just enough to start to open you up. He starts to kiss and suck at your clit until your hand finds purchase in his chestnut locks. He lets you pull him down into your pussy, savoring every little spasm of your canal. 
Before long, a second and a third finger join the first and your moans bounce off of the walls. With one curve of his fingers, he finds your inner bundle of nerves and you reward him with a squeezing of your cunt and the melody of your orgasm. He licks up every drop of your nectar off you, and as he pulls out his fingers, he sucks them dry as well.
He stands, unbuttoning his slacks and fisting his cock while looking at your sweet blissed-out little face. “Can my little rose take some more dessert?”
“Yes, Daddy, please?” You whine, wrapping your legs around Napoleon’s waist and drawing him closer.
“That’s my good little rose,” he praised, lining himself up and entering you swiftly, “Ohhhhh, you take me so well. Best dessert I’ve ever had.”
He leans down to kiss you as he pulls out slightly and slams back in, swallowing your moans. Holding your face in his hands, he begins a steady rhythm inside you and hits your spots as if you had created his dick in a lab in some odd science experiment.
Soon, he drags orgasm after orgasm out of you until all you can say is Daddy and Yes. An endless stream of nonsensical noises comes out as well, but Napoleon is all too happy to commit those to memory while not commenting on them. He just continues to pound into you mercilessly, chasing his own release now that your juices cover the front of his slacks.
“Are you ready for Daddy to fill you?” He asks, a bruising hold on your hips as he plows into you.
“Yes, Daddy, yes!” You gasp, tears falling down your cheeks as you are overstimulated.
“Fuuuuuck, such a good little rose!” He exclaims as his hips settle flush against yours. 
You can feel every twitch of his dick as he empties inside you. You watch as the sweat from his brow drips down his temple as his eyes close. You hear his breathing pick up as he tries to steady himself. The heady scent of sex in the air intoxicates you. You grab him by the tie and pull him down to kiss you. All five senses are ablaze with Napoleon Solo.
Your hand through his hair is what allows him the strength to open his eyes again. He looks at you as though you hung the moon. He remains inside you as he slots his lips against yours before resting in the crook of your neck.
“Gotta love a man that cooks. You can always stuff me twice.” You laugh, not being able to stop yourself from accidentally pushing Napoleon out of you.
“Really? A joke right now?” He laughs, standing to his full height and looking down to see his spend leaking out of you.
“I couldn’t help myself, Mr. Solo. It just…came to me.”
“I bet, my little rose.” He helps you down from the table and ushers you to the bathroom as he cleans the rest of the table up.
You clean yourself up and meet Napoleon back in the living room as he sits on the couch. You enjoy listening to some more music and having a few more drinks with him, forgetting all about your train home. 
You wanted a little sugar in your bowl, after all. And you got it and then some. This man was sweet enough to give you cavities ten times over and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
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**Tag List**
@brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67
@astheskycries @enchantedbytomandhenry
[@mayloma @littlefreya I tagged you both because of the reblogs earlier lol]
**Let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list and for what plz  😁**
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shrimp-buffet · 10 months ago
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LARRY & LAWRIE HEADCANNONS
Because they took over my brain after Kit betrayed me- (headcannons after the cut)
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I’ve never really made one of these types of post before and don’t know if I’ll ever make more, but I just suddenly got struck with the need to share my ideas with these two and I don’t personally know people as into Brawl Stars as I am so making this post is the best way I could think of! Maybe if this gets received well I’m make more but no guarantees.
Anyway sorry for this pre-ramble, onto the actual headcannons:
Larry focused, Lawrie focused, Both
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•Larry uses He/They pronouns, while Lawrie uses just They/Them
• Larry & Lawrie have a sort of Bluetooth-like connection between them. If one gets too far out of range, they both lose some or all of their functionality, which is why they’re never seen too far from each other.
•Their connection range is actually pretty generous, so they could go off and do their own things around the park. But they would still need to work around each other’s schedules to stay in range which can be a hassle, so it’s usually only on special occasions. (Much to Larry’s dismay)
•Larry is the much more social one, and while he does genuinely love spending time with his sibling, they desperately want to be able to spend more time hanging out with others on his own.
•Despite Larry’s extroverted nature he doesn’t actually have a lot of friends because they’re a bit of a buzzkil
•Lawrie tries (and usually fails) to hide it, but they’re extremely overprotective of Larry. Rushing into battles to protect him and following them around the park even if Larry asks them not to.
•for example of the previous: One time Larry was walking through the garden, thinking they were finally alone when Lawrie jumps in out of nowhere and just obliterates a bush having completed missed a little bunny. When Larry gets mad Lawrie explains that they thought there was a dangerous animal following him.
•Larry doesn’t get why Lawrie is so protective of him, but he is similar protective of R-T (albeit to a much smaller extent)
•Lawrie held a grudge on that bunny for embarrassing them. That specific bunny seems to intentionally menace them constantly and they consider it their enemy.
•While Lawrie is a bit of a tsundere about their brotherly love, they’re not one in general. They just genuinely dislike most people.
•The two of them fight, argue and insult each other a lot, but if anyone else saying anything rude to the other they both go sicko mode. Lawrie especially has no mercy.
•Lawrie punches people in the arm a lot. Totally unrelated, (/s) Larry’s arm is always sore
•Larry LOVES the Princess Diaries series! When they found out Fang also likes it (R-T told him) he spent a whole day binging the series with Fang in an empty theater
•As implied in the pervious, Larry occasionally gossips with R-T. He knows it’s wrong and feels guilty about it, but it’s too interesting for them to resist it.
•Lawrie has to keep tell R-T to stop gossiping, and Larry to stop enabling it. It doesn’t work but they try.
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This is getting long so I’ll end it here. If you got this far thank you for reading!! Let me know if you’d be interested in other characters or even more of these two!
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just-a-fluffy-knight · 1 month ago
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Joker/Arthur Fleck Tickle-Cannons!
I am a MINOR, so NSFW/Kink/Fetish and 25+ DO NOT INTERACT.
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A/N: …………so yeah never thought I’d be making a DC post ever but……. Joker is an amazing movie idec if I’ve never really seen any other DC stuff 🙏🏻🙏🏻 this mf has been plaguing my brain recently so……. Yeah I couldn’t really help myself 😭 hope you guys like these 🫡
UPDATED A/N: By the way these r only for 2019 Arthur because I have very…… mixed feelings about Folie à Deux 😬
Arthur Fleck
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Lee:
Definitely the kind of guy who can’t enjoy twords unless he’s really close with someone
So……. yeah don’t get him if you aren’t that close unless you want things to get awkward and uncomfy 😭
But if you are close enough with him, you got a good chance of getting him laughing in no time
While very insecure of the laugh caused by his condition, he’s just as embarrassed about his genuine one
But it’s actually super sweet sounding :’] especially considering it actually sounds genuine and not like he’s choking on his own cackles
It’s a bit similar to his fake one, still pretty wheezy and cackle-sounding, but actually sounds happy so it’s a lot nicer to listen to :]
His worst spots are definitely his ribs, hips, knees and his neck
Considering how like……. scarily skinny and fragile his body seems to look, I feel like tickles that are too firm could actually be a little more uncomfortable for him 😭
So gentle tickles are definitely the way to go with this guy
Definitely the type of guy who stutters while trying and failing to scramble away when he knows you’re gonna get him
“Now hohold on a second-! Dohon’t come any closer-!”
Stumbles about like a clown (get it??) if trying to escape, and it never works 😭
Ler:
Okay so we all know this guy can actually be pretty silly when in the right mood
Take the scene where he comes home after his ‘date’ with Sophie, and gently picks up his mother to dance with her to the outro to the Murray Franklin Show (That’s Life) :’]
And like come on hes a literal clown!!! He’s got experience w being goofy and playful and stuff
Can actually be a pretty ruthless ler when he wants to be
But he’s usually just chuckling along with your laughter :’))
“C’mooon, lemme see a smile! Just a little one at least?”
“Would ya look at that? There’s that happy face I was looking for!”
Just wants to make ya smile and is DETERMINED to complete that mission 🫡
Tries his best to say the tword to tease you but just embarrasses himself 😭
Joker
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(GRGRGRGEGE KILLS HIM. /pos /aff)
Lee:
Ykw fuck you it’s MY comfort character so I choose the headcannons 😾 /lh
While his laughter does still sound genuine, it sounds a lot more of a maniacal cackle
Similar to the laugh set off by his condition, except this one just sounds more silly if that makes sense???
And again it doesn’t sound like he’s suffocating on his own laugh 😿
Surprisingly doesn’t react much to gentle tickles
Soooo YEAH YOU GOTTA WRECK HIM
Is a massive thrasher so like please take precaution unless you want a broken nose /silly 🙏🏻
Will spit out a bunch of threats and insults but it just gets him wrecked more GHEEHDH
“Ihi’m gonna fuhUHUCKING KIHILL YOU-!”
Despite this he can be a VERY provocative bastard /lh
“Pffhft, that ahall you got? *SNRK-!* I-Ihi’ve laughed mohore at thahat godawful slohop they’ve got goin ohon at Pogo’s-“
And then he’s screaming the house down a few moments later GHEGEGD
Ler:
OOUUGGHH BOY.
Scary guy 😰
like DO NOT GET INTO A CHASE WITH HIM IT IS TERRIFYING
and don’t hide you’re just DIGGING UR GAVE DEEPERRRR /lh
“I’m gonna fiiiind you~! Come out, come out, wherever you aaaree~!”
While Arthur struggles saying the tword as the Joker he can say it with NO HESITATION
Uses the most CHILDISH teases ever ough my god…….
“Ah tickle tickle tickle! Kitchy kitchy coooo! Oh, you’re just a big ol giggle bundle, aren’t you~?”
“Tickle Monster’s gonna getcha! Yes he is~! Here he coooomes~!”
Oh and comes up with the STUPIDEST JOKES (mostly tickle related ones like the ‘Ten-Tickles’ octopus joke 😭😭) just so he can brag about how funny he is
His typa tickling varies on what makes you react the most :3
will CONSISTENTLY SWITCH SPOTS like you NEVER KNOW PEACE ISTG
Oh and tickle games are like A SKILL TO HIM.
Hide n seek?? The oh so dreaded monster?? Nursery Rhymes?? Yeah he’s on it SO RUN.
my buddy @prairleedog also came up with this idea that if he like did raspberries he’d smudge his makeup and leave smears of it on you AND RVRHRJEHEBE I HATE YOU FOR THAT BRO. /j /silly
Oh yeah and can I also talk about THIS SHIT PLEASE.
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Like ahaha yeah sir you can put that the FUCK DOWN.
Got this kinda stare that just tells you that FUCKED UP BIG TIME
Okay hope you guys like these bc he is rotting my brain right now like RELEASE MEEEEE
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nose-nippin-fun · 10 months ago
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Hazbin Hotel Episode 4 Discussion:
I’ve seen a lot of nasty posts floating around today criticizing Vivzie and the show. I’m not here to discredit your feelings, but I think that the darker tone of episode 4 merits some constructive discussion beyond a knee-jerk, pearl-clutching reaction.
From what I’ve seen, the biggest complaint from viewers, myself included, is that this emotional episode with some fairly intense depictions of SA/r*pe was not prefaced with a content warning aside from the usual small text in the top left corner. I truly do believe Amazon should correct this going forward so that viewers can feel better prepared for tone shifts between episodes. That being said, here are my defenses of the show.
Hazbin Hotel has had a huge fan following since the pilot release back in 2019, which set the tone of the show. Between the pilot and Addict music video, people had a pretty clear indication of the adult themes that would be present in the project moving forward. The show is set in Hell, the place where the world’s worst sinners are trapped in the afterlife. This is not an excuse, this is an explanation. There are going to be several characters with tainted morality, some of whom are irredeemable. That’s why they’re in Hell. This show is not meant to glorify sins, but to shine a light on flawed, relatable characters who will grapple with ethics and other struggles and come out changed in the end.
“I can’t believe Angel doesn’t leave his situation and stays stagnant.” Have you ever lived through/witnessed abuse? It is never this easy to sever ties with an abuser. They position themselves in power to control and manipulate, and many times, it’s not physically safe to get away from them. Also, this has been ONE EPISODE, you cannot expect a character with deep trauma to be totally different after a 20-30 minute episode. Angel’s character arc will take time, but his interaction with Husk at the end is an important first step in that direction.
“So Angel is supposed to just get over his trauma because he and Husk sang a song about it?” No. If that was your takeaway, I’m truly sorry you missed the point. Husk is the only person who’s been raw and blunt with Angel (on screen) about dropping the Angel Dust persona and being Anthony. Angel is used to having to put on a flawless, sexy act at all times, so much so that that’s how people really believe he is at all times. Husk sees through this mask Angel developed to protect himself and tell him through their song that imperfect and broken as he feels, Angel isn’t alone in struggling with feelings of powerlessness and addiction. He’s not comparing his loss of overlord status to Angel’s horrible SA, he’s finding common ground and empathizing (the best way a Hellbound soul can). This song wasn’t a solution, it was a gateway to vulnerability and the beginning of change for both characters.
“We’re expected to just ship Huskerdust after Angel has done nothing but sexually harass and push Husk’s boundaries?” No. That’s absolutely the wrong reason to ship anything. While it’s true that in the first three episodes, Angel sees Husk as eye candy who might be able to distract him from his suffering, episode 4 brings a necessary shift in their dynamic. Angel is used to everyone around him wanting Angel Dust, the pornstar. But for the first time, someone doesn’t want that coveted persona, and he can’t comprehend this. Angel has no control over anything except the act he keeps up, so he clings to it as a false sense of power. It’s only after Husk tells him that he likes Angel for everything he is off camera that Angel starts to treat Husk with respect, which will pave the way for any future Huskerdust shipping.
You don’t have to agree with what I’ve written, and I absolutely don’t blame you if you’ve realized this show is not content you can comfortably consume, but please understand that depicting difficult material is not the same as glorifying or excusing it. This episode was hard for me too, because I care about Angel Dust, and I am so eager to watch his growth as the show continues. My heart goes out to anyone struggling from triggering this episode caused. I hope you’re able to safely navigate away from this show while respecting the viewers who continue to watch.
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givethemsmut · 3 months ago
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The Pack | Chapter Four
Characters: Dylan O’Brien, fem!reader
Pairing: Dylan O’Brien, Dylan x You
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D Y L A N ‘ S P O V
It was hours later and I still hadn’t come out of my room until it was time to eat again or all the deliver pizza was gone. I headed to the kitchen and ran into Posey with Alex, the new blonde, hanging on his every word and muscle.
I was still pissed at him and purposely let my disgust show at their flirting in front of me. “Hey man. Sorry about earlier but you had to hear it.”
I slammed down my water down and turned to him, “Take your own advice. You don’t know her but it’s okay she’s over and you’re screwing? Whoa slow down, killer.” I turned to Alex, “You’re like the fifth girl this month. Makes you wonder if he cleans his sheets, huh?”
I took my keys off the counter and headed towards my car. I needed a break from my best friend. I just started driving with no destination until I texted her.
ME: Let’s meet up. I’ll come to you.
She was reluctant. She said she was busy but we both knew it was a lie. I had to settle for texts.
ME: Sorry about Tyler. Ignore him. You aren’t some rebound okay? As soon as I bumped into you I knew I wanted to know you.
HER: Six years is a long time. You must be heartbroken. You have to heal.
ME: I’m bummed but I’m not devastated. I’ve seen you more in two days than I’ve seen her in months, okay? We were trying to hard to make it work.
HER: What do you mean?
ME: All we were good at was having sex. We didn’t talk anymore. We didn’t wanna see each other. We weren’t being there for each other anymore.
HER: Still…
ME: Still nothing. So what we got wasted and fucked. We made it right - we hung out, talked. We didn’t bail and call it a regret.
Y O U R P O V
I didn’t text him back at all. I had class to focus on and avoiding Brody who was waiting across the street to make sure I wasn’t being held hostage by a stranger. I pretended not to see him in the meantime.
Making a violent work place for my Dad wasn’t an option so forgetting Dylan ever happened was my only option left.
I loved Brody and that hurt enough being rejected for something so lame. I can’t imagine Dylan’s heart being rejected after six years worth of memories. For the next two weeks I kept to myself, Alex, school, and Starbucks. Those were my GPS markers and I realized how lame I was but it kept the organ in my heart from breaking.
My dad was actually home one Tuesday night which was odd considering he had a lot of night shoots lately. I was heating up some soup when he sat down at the island inquiring about Dylan.
“So what’s going on with Dylan?”
I raised an eyebrow confused, “Well that was weeks ago. Thanks for asking.”
I sat down with my soup and a water across from him at the same kitchen island as him. “No, seriously. He’s been a raging teenager on set.”
“He’s young enough. He also plays a teenager. Method acting?”
“Him and Tyler are normally full of laughs, energy. Did you guys fight? Break up? Was it the sex part…? Not everyone will be Brody.”
“Dad! God! You can reserve this conversation with Dylan on set. I’m not talking about this with you.” I stood up completely overwhelmed and pushing my soup aside.
His eyes withered down to pure sympathy, “I don’t know a lot but I know Brody pressured you… if Dylan is pressuring you…”
I let my eyes fix on him while I spoke, “You can’t have issues with sex when you have no comparison. And we didn’t break up because we never dated. Look, I don’t know what his tantrum is about. I haven’t spoke to him in weeks.”
Abandoning my dinner entirely, I tossed my MacBook on my bed and closed my bedroom door behind me. The chirp immediately jolted my head towards the open computer showing Alex was trying to FaceTime me. Once I hit accept, I saw Tyler next to her once I was paying attention.
“Girl! Where have you been?!”
“School, Starbucks, home. Repeat. I see you’re chilling with Tyler still…” Maybe giving Alex a GPS marker was to just make myself feel better.
She must have been on her phone because he fell out of frame and was moving, “You probably don’t wanna hear this but it’s like going really well. He’s so sweet. Let’s be real… a total babe too. He’s been staying with me. He has to escape Dylan for while.”
“Why is everyone concerned with Dylan? And telling me?” I groaned between my words, sighing too heavily after.
“Girl. You happened. You left him without any word or explanation.”
I shrugged, “Talk to your new man. He’s the one who pulled Dylan from his room to tell him I was a bad idea. I just agreed.”
“Well he’s been acting crazy. Being a diva on set, giving Tyler attitude, booking up with random girls and drinking. It’s crazy! Completely downhill as far as Tyler has told me.”
“Well he can’t act like a child because one girl blew him off. He’ll survive. Girl, I gotta write a paper. I’ll text you tomorrow.” I closed my computer so fast I felt the fire ride up my neck into my cheeks. I was embarrassed and a little in love with being his downfall.
Brody pressured me to give him every ounce of me but not having me didn’t ruin him either.
The next morning I stopped at Starbucks for a venti iced coffee before class. I could feel my eyes burning and watering at the exposure of the LA sun from not sleeping. All I did was turn and turn, physically wrestling my decision to not even give Dylan w chance.
My only morning class was a lecture too as if I wasn’t already struggling. Sitting in the back I hid in plain sight when about 30 minuets after a packed class was losing focus the old, heavy, door sounded. I couldn’t see without glasses but I heard his voice and instantly slipped deeper in my seat.
Shit. Dylan.
He interrupted the teacher, “Hey, um sorry sir it’s an emergency. Life and death.” He raced up the stairs to me after scanning the room and I hoped my blending in skills finally worked.
I could hear the entire class was whispering, clamoring, trying to place his familiar face.
Am I literally the last person alive to not watch Teen Wolf? Really?
He kneeled down whispering, “Hey. Can you come with me? I pulled a lot of Teen Wolf strings to find your classroom.”
I closed my MacBook quietly before swallowing my pride, “Dylan. I’m in class.”
He grabbed my bag, “And? I just got you a hall pass.”
I didn’t move so he turned to the class, addressing them like he was about to make a speak. “Hey guys. I’m Dylan. I play Stiles on Teen Wolf on –“
I grabbed his arm urging him to stop. “Fine. You win,” as I got up leading him outside. Soon as we were safely in the hallway I asked him, “Mind telling me what this about?”
He shrugged, “I wanted to see you. My car is over there, blue Jeep, hop in.”
I sat in the bucket seats of his car, climbing inside the same car I parked next to the day I ran into him. “Heard you’re being awful to everyone.”
He played shocked well, mouth open and almost laughing because he knew it was true. He said, “Me? Nah. I’m always a peach.” He smiled big and started his electric blue colored Jeep. After driving 10 minuets in silence he said, “Okay. Caught me. I was a dick to everyone… I didn’t wanna stop knowing you okay? I don’t like being the guy who fucks for the sake of getting off.”
I was shocked he felt that way. He must of saw how shocked I was because he continue, “Okay, calm down. You don’t have to be so shocked. Your dad is our produce, he doesn’t tell you things?”
“Not about the cast and sex…”
Dylan pulled into a small local shop, “I refused to do a sex scene in Teen Wolf. They added it for ratings. Not for the character development.”
I was now even more shocked. His job is to act, really anything, and he refused because of personal morales. We both got out and I asked him, “If we weren’t wasted would you still have had sex with me?”
He opened the door to the shop for me, “Kissed you sure but not sex. Welcome to my favorite restaurant. We’re going on a real date so you can reject me like a normal person.”
I couldn’t help but smile some, he was smooth and he view on sex was genuine. Similar to mine instead making myself fit into someone’s box. We found a small table in the corner with a large window and he started ordering everything when half way through he turned to me, “Can I order for you? Do you want anything or just me…?”
I laughed knowing he was anyways. “So Alex and Tyler…?”
Dylan laughed, “This month. I mean no offense. Girls like the abs and the wolf status then get bored and leave. But yeah she’s been around. She was on set the other day too.”
“Two divas on set, wow. My dad was complaining and trying to blame me for your behavior. Somehow our not existent relationship is effecting you. He even asked if we had an argument.”
Pushing himself closer to me, “I may have lost it a minuet. He’s a hypocrite! She’s on set, new, they don’t know each other and fucking like bunnies. I actually like you and he tells me it’s a problem? Fuck off, bro. We have bad timing, isn’t that every romantic comedy?” I laughed seeing him fired up was funny as anything. “Least your dad thinks I’m boyfriend material.”
I laughed again the food arrived my mouth salivated at how perfect a meal this was. Our conversation felt endless. Everything from his sister’s journey on coming out, his parents, worrying about the future.
After we made it back to the car it was hours later. Both of us settling in the car he turned to me, his hand reaching out to touch my leg. “So I shouldn’t be asking you this but how’s adjusting to life post virgin?”
I nearly hugged myself feeling very vulnerable at the time, “It’s different… before I could focus but now I’m like distracted constantly. It’s like an itch you can’t scratch. Anything can distract me and I’m all of a sudden I’m… you know.”
He jumped in and finished my sentence, “Horny?” Putting his hand on my thigh and gently squeezing, “You gotta get it out of your system. Your body knows it’s new.”
I got excited just from his hand so much I quivered inside against the butterflies. “So I’m just suppose to sleep with anyone until I’m use to it and it’s not distracting anymore?”
I was being sarcastic but he turned to me even more, “No. Just with me. My place or yours? Let’s avoid our best friends judging us.”
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din-miller · 1 year ago
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Heyoooo! I’m not sure if you take requests, or if this is where your supposed to ask, it’s my first time doing so :’)
BUT
If you do, I was wondering if you could maybe wright an angsty fic, could be platonic or romantic, idm, but after a mission the reader dies similar to how aunt may dies in Spider-Man. Like, everybody gets out alive after a mission, and they’re about to head back on the ship r somthin and then BOOM, the reader falls. They don’t know the are dying and everyone is panicking(or just one of TBB for bonus individual trauma) then after a few, they die. One minute TBB have it all, the next, their world shattered.
Ofc your free to change as much as you want up, and you really don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, it’s just a prompt I’ve been thinking about. Personally its just been nagging me for a while and I love your writing, and would really love to see it done (we all love some heavy angst, no?)
Again, if you don’t want to that’s perfectly fine, just thought I could ask <333
Hello dear, sorry this took so long.
Full disclosure, I’ve never seen Spider-Man. I watched a few videos on YouTube. Both for the movie and the video game not knowing which death of Aunt May you had in mind. Thankfully you provided enough details in the request which helped me hugely!
Thank you for your love and support. It means the world to me ❤️
(Ps. You didn’t mention if you wanted the reader to have a specific pronoun so I’ve chosen to use she/her as the readers pronouns)
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Go Peacefully, It’s Okay
Pairing: The Bad Batch + f!reader
Word count: 2.4k
Warning: Character death, blood mentioned, female reader, fun sibling dynamics THEN hurt with not a drop of comfort to be found, platonic relationships, use of mando’a (translation at the end)
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Sometimes everything you hold dear to your heart, can slip out of your fingertips without out a cause, without a warning, without an explanation
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“Remind me when we get back to Ord Mantell, to tell Sid that being hunted by an unknown animal was not in the job description.” Tech grumbled, re-gaining his balance after tripping over a root hidden in the soil.
You laughed, dodging another tree branch as you raced past him, “I wasn’t aware Sid was handing out job descriptions.”
“It’s probably for the best that she doesn’t, we’d be broke if she did,” Hunter pointed out, “If you haven’t noticed, her missions are getting more dangerous lately.”
“Oh, come on, they’re not all bad,” You flinched when the creatures let out a loud roar, “See, even they’re agreeing with me.”
Your commlink beeped, Crosshair’s voice coming through the speaker, “Take the next left, you should be able to lose them in the tall grass.”
“Lose them?” Echo smirked, enjoying this more than he probably should as he jumped over a fallen log, dodging the sharp claws trying to shred his prosthetic leg into pieces, “The fun’s just getting started!”
“You can say that again!” Wrecker cheered, running beside you; Omega balanced on his shoulders, shooting her bow in hopes that it’ll slow the animal chasing them down.
“Has anyone found their weak spot yet?”
Of course nothing is ever simple with the Batch. The creature's skin ricochet any blaster fire and for the first time in history, Wrecker didn’t pack any explosives. Something he’s still evidently mad about as he complained very loudly: “No need for explosives, Tech said. It’s a peaceful planet, Tech said.”
“It was peaceful until you decided to awaken the den, Wrecker.” Tech pointed out, dodging another pounce from the creature behind him, “This plan isn’t working.”
“Crosshair, I thought you said we’d lose them in the tall grass, not attract more!” Echo growled, annoyed as his prosthetics creaked loudly, “You’ll be in charge of oiling my prosthetics when we get back.”
You let out a snort, because that'll be a sight to behold. The others laughed when all Crosshair replied with was a sneer. With a fond roll of your eyes, you opened your comm link, “I have an idea.”
“If past experiences have proven anything, those words have never been followed by anything good.” Typically Tech response.
“You got a better idea?” You asked, a tad judgemental, “Just trust me, okay. Hunter, grab Omega and run. All of you, out of the grass.”
“Copy,” Echo turned to brothers, “Race you to the ship, last one takes first watch tonight.”
Hunter’s helmet is focused on you and you know underneath it he’s giving you a pleading look to not do anything stupid. You just waved him away in response.
“I’ll be right behind you.” You promised and drew your blaster. He sighed and took off with Omega at his side.
As promised, you followed. Albeit a little further behind them as you shoot at the ground again and again, the blaster shot hot enough for the dry grass to catch on fire, forming a wall of flames that prevent the creatures from continuing their attack. As the fire builds and they begin to retreat, you let out a breath of relief. Then, with a huge grin, you threw your hands in the air, ”Victory!”
“Parjir!” Wrecker cheered, high-fiving the youngest Batch. The kid giggled and gave a cheer herself.
Hunter shook his head at them, but you can see the tiniest hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his lips. The smile disappeared as quickly as it came, your name falling from his lips: “Behind you!”
Before you could turn around, your body is slammed to the ground. A vicious snarl came from right behind your ear and you winced at the loudness of it. You twisted your body and grabbed the blaster off of your belt. In the distance the boys are calling your name and without sparing a second thought you started firing into the creature's stomach, taking no pleasure in the pained screams it let out.
You laid your head back against the ground and tried your best not to gag at the smell and warmth of the blood seeping into your clothes. A second barely passed before a pair of hands pushed the animal off of you, “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good,” You answered, letting Tech help you up, “Thank you.”
“Next time please eliminate all threats before celebrating.”
“I’ll make sure to triple check my surroundings.” You promised, brushing off the dirt clinging to your pants.
“That would be suffice, thank you.” He said dryly and you chuckled in response, amused with his way of speech.
While Hunter started checking Omega over for any injuries, you pulled Wrecker toward you to do the same. The biggest clone willingly allowed you to poke and prod at various body parts and he doesn’t even complain when you checked a second time despite knowing that other than a bruise or two, he’s fine.
“Your turn,” Wrecker gestured for you to turn around, but before he could begin his check, Hunter called for everyone to grab their packs and start moving out. Wrecker clapped his hands together with a giant grin, “Finally! The heat is killing me! I guess I’ll check you over once we’re back on the Marauder.”
“I’d expect nothing less.” You patted Wrecker’s shoulder and followed him to where the others started preparing for the trip.
You begin the journey back to the ship at Wrecker’s side but the longer you walked, the slower your pace became and eventually you fell behind. The fire is still roaring behind you, the warmth of it faint against your back and despite having felt like you’ve travelled miles, you're not even halfway back to the ship yet.
Echo slowed down to match your pace, arm brushing against yours, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, Echo. I think the adrenaline is starting to wear off, that's all.”
“Should I get Tech? He’ll probably have a stim shot.”
“No, there’s no need to bother him. I just need a sec-,” A sharp spasm rippled down your back, the force of it knocking you over, your legs giving out from underneath you.
Echo caught you, his arm wrapping around your waist and you leaned into his embrace, head crashing onto his shoulder. Echo lowered both of you to the ground, “Help, we need help!”
Hunter dropped down beside you, helmet placed on the ground as his eyes scanned over your body, looking for injuries, but he can’t tell if the blood is yours or the creatures, “Echo, what happened?”
“I don’t know, we were talking and then she collapsed.”
“Collapsed?” Wrecker appeared beside Hunter, helmet also off, his brows knitted together, “Is she okay?”
You know what he’s thinking, it’s written across his face. He should have checked you over earlier and you know very well that thoughts like those never lead anywhere good, so you grabbed his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, “I’m okay, Wrecker. I just need a second.”
“We don’t have time for this,” Crosshair huffed impatiently. He’s out of your line of sight but you know he’s scowling, “Get up.”
“We have time to let her catch her breath,” Hunter surveyed the burning grass. The fire is steady and far enough that it wouldn’t hurt to sit for a few seconds, “When we get back to the ship, Tech is going to check you over, okay?”
Tech eyed the flames with caution, “For once I find myself agreeing with Crosshair. We don’t know what other animals the noise and fire might draw. We shouldn't stay here. It’ll be best to let Wrecker carry her to the ship.”
“First cardio, now a full upper body workout! It’s shaping up to be a good day after all.” Wrecker joked, but he couldn’t hide the anxiety that lingered in his words as he waited for Hunter’s permission.
Hunter nodded and moved out of the way, “Thanks Wrecker.”
“I got ya, ner vod.” Wrecker scooped you up, shifting you in his arms to get a better grip, only before he could find one comfortable enough for the both of you, he froze, his hold on you loosening until you were set back down carefully.
“Wrecker?”
“I-, she’s…,” He stuttered, taking several steps away from you until his back collided with a tree behind him. His eyes desperately searched for his brother, “Tech, she’s… oh maker, please no.”
You frowned, confused at his sudden behaviour. Tech seemed equally confused but he must have seen something in Wrecker's expression that you hadn’t, because suddenly he’s digging through his pack, searching for something of importance judging by the urgency of his movements.
You turned back to Hunter, “What’s wrong? What’s Tech doing?”
“I don’t know, but I’m sure everything is fine.” Hunter reassured, returning to his previous place beside you. His hand slipped under your shirt, fingers deftly prodding at your side until they stopped at the bottom of your rib cage, then he’s applying pressure against your skin, cursing as he yelled for his brother to hurry.
Echo grabbed his pack, emptying the contents carelessly onto the ground before lifting your head up and placing the pack on the ground as a cushion for you, “Just relax, everything is okay, you’re okay.”
Tiny footsteps made their way to where you’re laying and Hunter held up his hand, stopping Omega from coming any closer. He doesn’t take his eyes off of her but his words are directed at his older brother, “Echo, take Omega to the ship.”
“No,” Omega fought the hand that grabbed her arm, shoving Echo back, “What's going on? Why aren’t we moving?”
She looked at you, anxiously awaiting an answer and you're quick to reassure the small girl, “Need a sec’, I prob’ly inhaled too much smoke.”
Realising that she isn’t going to go willingly to the Marauder, Hunter sighed, “Omega, go check on Wrecker. That’s an order, kid.”
Omega pressed her lips together and for a second you thought she was about to argue but instead she listened and went to check on Wrecker. The bigger clone’s sat on the ground, head between his legs, but he welcomed Omega into his arms when she hugged him in an attempt to calm him down.
Hunter cocked his head towards the two, “Echo, keep an eye on them.”
“Yes, sir,” Echo stood up and laid a hand on Hunter's shoulder, his voice lowering to a whisper, “Take care of her, vod.”
Tech took Echo's place, a scanner held over your body and he adjusted his goggles in the way he does when something isn’t looking good. The muscle in his jaw twitched before he turned the scanners screen to Hunter.
You tore your eyes away from them and tilted your head back to watch as the fire curled up into the dawn sky. Red and oranges mix with the pale pascals, and the stars, so bright from here, so familiar, blur with every breath you take. You can’t help but let your eyes drift shut.
“Don’t do that,” Crosshair hissed, “Keep your eyes open.”
You blinked them back open and you’re a little surprised to see Crosshair kneeling down beside you, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. When your eyes met his, the corner of his mouth turned up, “Good, keep your eyes on me.”
“Crosshair?” You leaned into his hand, seeking the comfort he’s providing despite his usual nature, “Why aren’t we movin’? Is someone hurt?”
“No, everything is okay,” Crosshair replied, but it’s through clenched teeth. Something he only does when he’s having to say something he doesn’t fully believe and/or agree with. He positioned himself criss-crossed above you and lifted your head, replacing Echo’s pack with his lap, “We’re just taking a break.”
Right, a break. A second to relax and catch your breath, that’s what you needed. You closed your eyes, even though you're pretty sure someone just told you not to, but there’s a heavy fog clouding your mind and you can’t remember who it was.
“I said to keep them open.” Crosshair, right, that’s who said it. The man who’s currently demanding you to look at him.
“Crosshair, keep her awake.”
You're able to open your eyes enough to watch as the sniper glared at Tech, “What do you think I’m trying to do?”
Hunter’s fingers threaded through yours, “You can’t fall asleep, cyar’ika, okay? Hey, look at me, let me see those pretty eyes.”
The fading sun is too bright and your vision struggles to focus but you listened to his words and for that he gave you the softest smile, “There you are.”
“Wrec’ ok’?”
“He’s okay. We’re all okay. You just take another second to relax and don’t worry about anything, we have you.” Hunter pressed a kiss to your forehead.
Echo rubbed the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at his Sergeant, “You have to tell her, Hunter. You have to let her say goodbye.”
You want to ask what he means. Who’s saying goodbye by who. You want to ask why he looks so sorrowful, but your body doesn’t seem to want to cooperate and your voice only comes out in weak gasps.
“Move,” Tech ordered Crosshair, taking his position to support your body up against his chest, helping the air fill your lungs, “Deep breaths, nice and slow.”
You tried to match Tech’s breathing, the strength in his inhale and the sturdiness in the exhale, but your lungs start to fail you as your breathing became weaker, your grip loosened but Hunter doesn’t let go. Not even when your eyes drift shut for the final time and your chest stills.
Hunter lowered his head, pressing his forehead to yours as he whispered a promise: “Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum.”
“Hunter?”
“Kid-,” Crosshair reached out for Omega, not sure if he was trying to comfort and protect her or hell, maybe even himself, as she dropped to her knees beside your body. It took everything in him to not walk away, far from here, but she needs him. His brothers need him.
They all watched helplessly as Omega finally noticed the blood pooling around your body, “She's bleeding! Tech, why are you just sitting there?! Help her!”
“I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do, Omega. The wound was too deep, she was losing too much blood. I’m… I’m sorry.”
“No, I don’t believe that. There has to be something we can do!” She pressed her tiny hands against the wound while she begged through tears: “Wake up! Talk to me, say something, anything! Please, open your eyes!”
“Ad’ika, she’s gone,” Hunter swallowed around the lump in his throat, his lower lip quivered when he pulled the small clone into his arms, “She’s gone.”
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Mando’a translation
Parjir. – Victory
Ner vod – My sister
Cyar’ika – darling/sweetheart
Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum – Daily remembrance of those passed on *I'm still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal.*
Ad’ika – Little one
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insufferableprotagonistpoll · 7 months ago
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Propaganda why Bloom Peters is insufferable:
Her sins:
1. Main character of one of the worse live action adaptions I’ve ever seen
2. Not like other girls x1000- she likes ✨reading books✨ and ✨going to vintage stores✨ and gets in a fight with her mom about how she doesn’t go to parties and have friends like a ✨basic bitch✨
3. Gets so mad at her mom that she loses control of her powers and nearly kills her parents in a fire
4. A guy told her she was going the wrong way to get to class and she accused him of “mansplaining”
5. Shitty and boring fashion sense, little to no bright colors and not a single glittery top
6. Season one “Transformation” is just a dozen different camera angles of her awkwardly floating with cgi fire around her
7. I didn’t watch season two, but a friend who did told me she develops a savior complex and has an unnecessary amount of make out scenes at random times
Bloom (and entire show) is written like the director gave a middle aged conservative man $100 to write what he thought “woke” teens would like.
Look at this image and tell me this looks like winx https://m.media-amazon.com/images/M/MV5BYjRjMjg2MGEtMmQ1Yi00Yjc0LTlkZTItNjQzYjAwNjQ3MGU0XkEyXkFqcGdeQWRvb2xpbmhk._V1_.jpg
Propaganda why Zoey Redbird is insufferable:
Protagonist centered morality, slutshames other girls but has a lot of boys herself including one who raped someone else (I think at least)
She’s presented as being the perfect person to replace a bully character in a position of power because she’s such a good and pure person, and every book it’s nothing but her calling people the R slur, or sluts, or freaks, or various slurs against gay people, or talking out loud about how ugly her classmates are with her friends, or saying that certain people shouldn’t be allowed to breed if they’re too useless or gross, or saying gay men are basically women, or differentiating between which gay people are the good kind or the bad kind based on how annoying she thinks they are. And then after all of that is established in the first book, by the second she’s pushing two racist caricatures of black men in front of a truck and kills them and it is never brought up again. And every book ends with her getting a magical tattoo no one in history has ever gotten, confirming that she is canonically one of the best people to ever be alive even after murdering two people for annoying her
INCREDIBLY hypocritical, slut-shaming mary-sue of an idiot. She constantly calls one girl a hoe (for sucking a guy's dick without his consent (no, the thing Zoe disagrees with WASN'T the rape issue, it was the blowjob!!!)) Despite having a Harem of different guys herself. And no, she isn't even poly about it, all the dudes are constantly being aggro to each other and clearly want to be exclusive.
She also becomes a rape apologist for one of the harem guys AND the Big Bad, who is an immortal who once RAPED AN ENTIRE TRIBE OF NATIVE AMERICAN WOMEN. But he's soooooo hot! *eyeroll*
FUCKING Pick-Me girl of all time. If mysogyny was a competetive sport then Zoey would be on the olympic team.
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end0parasitic · 12 days ago
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What are your headcanons for, let’s say…. Cynte, Pravi, Karis, and Luce? (U can add more characters or not answer for one/some of them if you’d like)
Just general headcanons bc i can’t think of specific kinds lmao
i am honestly bad at headcanons lol, most of them r solely visual. but! i definitely have some for all of these characters (and a bonus one!)
cynte: first of all insomniac, that’s a headcanon a lot of people seem to share. i feel like it flared up after karis left him, following a period of almost constant sleep and being withdrawn. i once saw a headcanon of him having heterochromia, and i think that it has potential. also, i like to think that he has a few cybernetic modifications, maybe as a religious thing like eve (the protagonist of wrought flesh). oh, also a strict upbringing! if not at least a very stressful one. i do not think that he was pressured to succeed, but i do think that he desperately wanted to escape something and already grew up in a very religious environment that prioritized success through intelligence and hard work.
praví: my boy has a very small role in game, so i think he’s mostly headcanon for me lol. i had a few back in the day, like he had a major sweet tooth. knit sweaters was also one (still like this one). one specific to me i think was that he used to take q-melanin (thing in wrought flesh that the villagers take cuz it allows them to photosynthesize) when he was child and used to live on a majorly desert planet as a poor colonist. also i like the idea that he’s very technically smart but can’t solve puzzles (projecting lol), while cynte can do both if a little forgetful of some advanced things and protocol. i like the idea of him not having a god/goddess he’s devoted to.
luce: first of all, surrounded by butterfly imagery since this post lives in my head rent free. i drew this luce on a whim and this is honestly how i see her in my head, this might be my fav design of her i’ve ever done even though it’s pretty simple. i like to think that in her childhood, she was seen as kind of a bad omen by the people around her, if a very kind one. like a lot of bad stuff happened around her, and she seemed to be at the center of it, but she really was just a kind person trying her best. the isolation and constant suspicion and harshness got to her and it all culminated in the parasites taking notice of her. doomed by the narrative vibes. also, i think she’s very familiar with tools from computers to scalpels to guns.
karis: oh this man has been hurt before. i wouldn’t be surprised if he had a long term relationship with someone a lot more wild and magnetic than he was and then got his heart ripped out by them, and then moved on to cynte, and then left him too. i get the vibe that he was born on a very carefree planet, a metropolis with a good government, and the people were generally very wild and hedonistic, but he never was. only drinks socially, never smokes. he was definitely a lot kinder to luce than praví and cynte were, maybe they were friends. i think of him as not only smart enough to be a scientist, but also smart enough to know how to talk his way into things, whereas cynte gets by on sheer devotion.
eve (my nickname for the protagonist of wrought flesh): i think her cult generally goes by burn bright and fast, meaning they tank all of the damage they get and die young and gloriously, and that’s what she’s primed to do. i like to think she’s very accomplished and already kind of ascended to hero status, but not truly godlike. she’s looking for something that has been watching her like the way you watch a bug crawl too close and move to shove it away. she’s like an ideal warrior cultist.
in conclusion: i’m normal abt them. trust me bro.
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heartshapedconchas · 1 year ago
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okay..hi. i know i haven’t updated my fanfic in literal months, but that is NOT what is important right now.
first of all, what the hell is wrong with you all?? threatening black authors&readers and calling them slurs because they ask for more inclusiveness?? fuck all of you.
Second, im going to give my piece of mind with the whole situation that is happening. Mind you i am a high femme, brown lesbian who has been masculinized most of her life. Now, correct me if i’m wrong, but some people (mainly non white/black users) are calling out some white authors on centering their reader inserts on whiteness. I understand this , again as a brown woman, who has found it difficult since I began reading self insert fanfics at like..9 years old.
However.
Something that is.. bewildering to me that I’ve seen brought up in this conversation is how .. the readers being hyperfeminine and whatnot somehow… makes it not relatable to people of color, SPECIFICALLY women of color; because of the history of them being masculinized.
This is so incredibly confusing to me cuz again,,, for me as a very femme brown woman who has been nothing but masculinized her whole life … has never felt alienated by these femme characters. Ever. In fact they make me feel more included because god it feels good to be feminine and not have that denied, even in fanfics. From my perspective; if you feel as if these femme characters only represent white ones— are you not upholding the exact stereotype that has been given to women of color for years?
This is just my opinion though; you are free to believe whatever you believe in and express how you feel (without attacking and siccing your followers onto whoever you’re speaking on).
In my writing I will always try my best to make all woc/poc feel included. If at some point I’m not doing that, i’m trying to make my fellow brown women feel included (as even though there has been an influx of non white writings as of late, the majority I see are black readers).
To all the white writers out there, try and leave your descriptions of the reader to a minimum of exclusivity. While you don’t have to make your reader insert obviously a woman of color, don’t make them obviously a white women either.
Personally I think we should leave the race specific fanfics to the people of that race. Because what white woman is gonna write a brown latina fanfic the accurate way and in a way I would enjoy? Write your fanfics in a race neutral manner, and to all the writers of color out there — write your fanfics race specific if you want to!
To my fellow authors and readers of color, speak about your concerns of inclusivity in our community! You have the right to speak your mind. Just please, please do not speak about authors in an ill manner if they haven’t done anything horribly, absolutely wrong. Critique them. Give advice. They can only learn if you give them room to grow.
And for both parties, please for the love of god; don’t allow people to send r*pe threats or call them slurs. Regardless of your race or what “side” you are on, no one deserves that. Elskittie didn’t deserve it earlier on, MULTIPLE black authors/readers don’t deserve it now. Be kind , fucking respect each other. Be fucking mature enough to have conversations about this instead of childish fights.
Oh and one more thing, please absolutely just tell me if i’m misinterpreting something in this post at all! This is from my perspective as a brown woman of color. And also i’m 95% sure i’m autistic. I have a hard time understanding things sometimes and just need it put in simpler terms :) don’t be an asshole and just kindly explain! thank u! 💗
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