#they are so painfully obviously not interested so why the fuck would I even attempt to do that

[piplupod]

allow me a moment to complain about how bad people are irl at socializing lmao

we go to the centre. we bring out our sketchbook to work on art. one of the adults goes "wow you're an artist! you should talk to X young person here, they make art too!" we thank them and eventually talk to young person.

young person goes "oh you make art too? cool! i'll show you my art :)" and then they show us every single piece of art they have on them to show us (both in their phone's camera roll and in their sketchbook) and we dutifully react positively to it all and find something to compliment in every single piece.

we try to show them A SINGLE PIECE OF OUR ART. they do not react at all. they go back to showing us their art.

they finally finish showing us their art, and we try once again to show them our art bc that is how fucking conversations work (it is a push and pull, a you-share-now-i-share) and they still do not react at all, just kind of nod vaguely with some sort of "huh" or "ohh" noise. we give up because it's obvious they're not interested.

THIS HAS HAPPENED TWICE NOW WITHIN THE PAST WEEK. I AM SO TIRED OF PLAYING NICE.

also the one it happened with today eventually said something like "i'm not very good at making conversation hahaha" because I'd kind of gone quiet because I was EATING ??? please let me eat ??? but then when I tried to engage in conversation more later on she didn't listen to a goddamn thing I said and would only talk about herself so what the fuck !!! what the fuck !!! why is everyone so goddamn self-centred !!! I am fucking tired of this shit !!!

[cuntess-carmilla]

The CDC claiming it's "encouraging" that 75% of the Omicron deaths from vaxxed patients were of patients with "4 or more comorbidities", was clearly meant to convey that only Very Sick People (aka disabled people) are at risk. Like, there's no fucking way to interpret that message other than as an attempt to reassure the able-bodied population that only people like us will die, so the CDC's ridiculous revisions to quarantine are Totally Justified (because fuck disabled people am I right? lol).

However, the fact that their official list of those comorbidities includes shit like depression, acne, BEING FUCKING SHORT, "obesity", autism, lactose intolerance, seasonal allergies, asthma, hypertension and such, is an example of what the disabled community means when we say that disability is just as much social construct as it is/can be biological reality, and that disability rights are human rights (not that they should have to include YOU for them to be HUMAN rights but we're painfully aware you don't see us as fully human so 🙃).

You can become disabled at any time! Sometimes not even because something actually happened to you, but because the state decided to deem you as such POST-MORTEM on paper at their convenience!

Are people whose only conditions are fucking acne, normalized visual impairments, seasonal allergies and lactose intolerance on disability benefits? Do they require more accessibility meassures than maybe help buying glasses or contacts or the occasional OTC antihistamine? Is someone gonna abuse or ostracize them the same way a wheelchair user or an autistic person would typically be? No! Obviously not!

But if you have just those 4 extremely common conditions, the state can use them to claim that your preventable deaths are "encouraging" instead of absolutely tragic and at the very least a sign that ill people should be protected more.

In order to serve capital, to justify lax meassures against the pandemic, they're going to lump you in with us with glee and they're going to let you die too. They can still utilize eugenics against you and claim your death was "encouraging". (Also why we insist on you trying so hard to separate yourselves from us being counterproductive.)

This is also what I mean when I say the medical establishment, even outside of psychiatry, as it exists now in most societies, is inherently oppressive. That doctors wield too much power over their patients, and that they're often more interested in serving themselves and capital/the state than serving regular people.

I've complained a lot about doctors refusing to diagnose or much less treat patients with invisible chronic illnesses out of convenience, but they can also weaponize diagnosis against you.

A doctor can decide that your life is lesser because you were fucking lactose intolerant, and that's your actual death sentence. Same way that doctors have been deciding on a whim to not treat disabled people during this pandemic (research the many cases of doctors placing "do not resucitate" orders on us without telling us or our families!) because they think our lives are less valuable than abled lives so they're just gonna let us die and save abled people only.

Now that resources are running out more and more, and the healthcare system is more and more saturated, now that the state is putting more pressure on them to prioritize capital over human lives, doctors are deciding that you don't even need to be Actually Disabled for your life to be worth less. If you have fucking acne, then you're an encouraging death because they said so. Welcome to our hell.

Edit: I was misinformed on the comorbidities the CDC director was referring to. Sorry.

[rocorambles]

Jealousy

Pairing: Atsumu x Reader (Main), Osamu x Reader (Side)

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, NSFW, Rape/Non-Con, Misuse of Duct Tape, Non-Con Bondage, Forced Breeding, Forced Impregnation, Delusional Mindset

Summary: Atsumu is determined to prove that he’s the better twin for you.    

The first time Atsumu meets you he doesn’t remember you so much as he gets stuck on the fact that Osamu is dating someone. Osamu is fucking dating someone and Atsumu is still here single and alone in his late twenties, not a girl anywhere even in sight. It makes him livid as he stares at the identical face gently smiling at you, affectionately holding your hand, looking so damn happy and content. 

What does he have that Atsumu doesn’t? A successful food chain? Cool. But is he a pro-athlete? A medal winning Olympic athlete? One of the best setters in the country? In the world? It’s infuriating to think about and as much as Atsumu loves volleyball, even he dreams of love, marriage, a family of his own late at night when he’s alone on a hotel bed, only Sakusa’s breathing from the other bed in the room keeping him company. 

And those thoughts consume him long after he bids farewell to Osamu and you and suddenly the MSBY Jackals are in an uproar as every team member takes turns being sexiled by their blond setter when they’re off at their away games, as Atsumu nonchalantly strolls into the locker rooms to prep for practice, back littered with scratch marks that Bokuto tries to shield from Hinata’s eyes when the orange haired athlete curiously asks when Atsumu got a cat. 

Girl after girl walks in and out of his bed, his life. Most never lasting more than a night, a few returning for a couple more rounds in the bedsheets, one even manages to interest him enough to grab a cup of coffee with. But it’s the same verdict every time. He’s good enough to fool around with and he’s great in bed, but Miya Atsumu is not husband material, not when he’s already married to volleyball. 

The rejection only fuels his inner turmoil and the green eyed monster inside of him grows and grows, festering and spreading throughout him the more he stops attempting his futile attempts and instead turns his energy to loitering around Osamu and you, inviting himself over for dinners after practice, trying his hand at helping you in the kitchen for brunch on the weekends, crashing in your guest bedroom to the point that Osamu and you gift him a spare key to your shared home. 

Neither of you think much of it, Osamu joking to you privately that this is just Atsumu being the needy emotional brother he really is while you’re just glad to be able to get to know Osamu’s family better. So none of you notice how brown eyes inquisitively trail after the both of you, watching how the two of you seamlessly work out both your hectic lives, never letting the long hours at your job or Osamu’s restaurant get in the way of your relationship, always directing a warm smile or gaze at the other despite how obviously exhausted or far away from a good mood you’re in. 

And Atsumu lets himself believe that this could be his as he hungrily stares at the way you gently caress his brother’s hand, the affection in your gaze as you tenderly kiss him on the lips, the playful wink you give his twin when you tell him you’re getting ready for bed. He lets himself dream that it’s him who you direct those loving gazes to as you cheerfully greet him in the morning, handing him a coffee made just the way he likes it, placing a plate full of delicious piping hot food in front of him. He lets his hand wander down his shorts at night, straining to hear every detail, every decibel of your moans as Osamu and you make love at night, closing his eyes and stroking his cock as he imagines it’s him who’s forcing those beautiful cries from your mouth. 

But it’s not all a picture perfect paradise and Atsumu carefully listens in, alerted by the raising voices he hears through the walls as more and more time passes by. He’d noticed the growing tension in the house, noticed how the two of you were less affectionate, almost awkwardly shuffling around each other when both of you were home from work these past few months. But he couldn’t think of what could have caused both of you to act so strangely, so suddenly, when everything had seemed so swell. 

Curiosity has him placing his ear on the wall and he winces when he hears you shout, anger and hurt in your voice that makes his heart clench painfully, asking when Osamu was going to propose, telling his brother how you’re sick of waiting, how you want to get married and have kids soon. Something shattering inside of him when your voice becomes small and hesitant. 

“I thought that’s what you wanted too, Osamu. Isn’t that why we decided to start living together?”

He expects his brother to leap at the opportunity, to reassure you, yes, absolutely yes, we can get married right away. He knows that if their positions were switched, that’s what he would be doing. But his jaw drops in disbelief, morphing into a scowl when Osamu pleads for you to calm down, to be patient. 

“I do want that. But just not right now.”

“If not now, when? We’re not getting any younger, Osamu.” 

“But my chain is in talks of expanding and there’s so much going on. I just don’t have time-”

There’s a heavy silence as Osamu is quick to snap his mouth shut and Atsumu knows he’s cursing himself for the slip of his tongue, already knows the next words that are going to come out of your mouth, words he himself is all too familiar with from his own past failed relationships. 

“You just don’t have time for us? Me?” 

“That’s not what I meant…”

But it’s too late and Atsumu flinches when he hears loud angry movement, Osamu’s voice imploring you to calm down and stop what you’re doing to no avail as you stomp out of the house, slamming the front door behind you as you make your way to a friend’s house to spend the night apart. 

No one speaks of that night after you return to the house the next day and the three of you continue as normal. Or at least as normal as you can be after an unresolved disagreement that your relationship ultimately hinges around continues ticking like a time bomb in everyone’s minds. And it finally counts down to zero when Osamu packs his bags and plants a cold chaste kiss on your lips before heading to the airport and making his way to seal the deal on the restaurant expansion that’s taken over his entire life. 

Maybe it’s Atsumu’s fault that the two of you are drunk out of your minds, sprawled out on the living room floor. Scratch that. It’s definitely Atsumu’s fault and he drunkenly smiles at how out of it you are, heart warming at the giddy genuine smile spread across your face, happiness in your eyes that he hasn’t seen ever since that argument Osamu and you had. And oh, he didn’t mean to say that out loud and he panics, quickly sobering up when your smile falls at his words, eyes glazed in reminiscence as you think of that night. 

Atsumu isn’t known for his patience, but he waits, not uttering a single word, not moving an inch as you open yourself up to him, telling him your hopes and dreams that so closely match his own of a loving relationship, marriage, family, sharing about the argument Osamu and you had (unknowing of the fact that Atsumu already knows far more than he should). But when you frustratedly laugh at yourself, asking him rhetorically if you’re just being silly and naive, if you’re just a grown woman trying to fulfill a little girl’s childish dream, you’re stunned by the fierce denial from the blonde athlete determinedly staring at you.

“No. You’re not being silly or naive. ‘Samu’s being the idiot. Any man would be lucky and proud to have you as his wife and to create a family with you.”

Those words resonate with you, linger in your mind, further branded into your memory by the sheer sincerity Atsumu drowned them in. And maybe that’s why you find it impossible to play house anymore, find it impossible to live a forced and fake lie when you’re not truly happy anymore. It’s hard, heartbreakingly so, to part ways with the silver haired man when he still holds a part of your heart, but it’s for the best. Why continue when neither of you are on the same page in the long run? Why waste more precious years when you can actively work towards your desired future with someone else who wants the same things as you? 

It’s logical. It makes sense. And yet when you meet up with Atsumu at his apartment for dinner one night to catch up a few months or so after the break up you’re still doubting your decision. 

You had been surprised the blond setter had been so adamant about keeping in touch even after his brother and you separated, but if you’re honest, he’s surprisingly sweet and caring, someone you consider a true friend. So as awkward as it might seem to outsiders, the two of you remain in close contact and you happily agree to his invite when both your busy schedules finally match up. 

But as much as you like Atsumu, the two of you really need to stop drinking so much when you see each other and you let out a cry of frustration when your eyes immediately tear up when Atsumu casually asks how you’re doing as both of you sprawl out on his couch, trying to wave away his worried face as he hovers far too close to you, telling him it’s just the alcohol making you more emotional than usual. 

And you still blame all the drinks he had generously kept refilling for you for the way you sob and cling onto him as he wraps you in a tight hug, telling him how you worry all the time about whether or not you made the right decision to break up with Osamu, whether or not you’re ever going to find someone else, ever going to get married, ever going to have that dream romance you’ve always wanted, ever going to have the happy full family you’ve always yearned for. 

It all comes out of you so easily. But everything with Atsumu has always come easy and you don’t think much of it, finding comfort in his solid presence as he continues to hold you, letting him readjust and find a comfortable position-

You scramble to separate from him when lips tenderly meet yours, limbs flailing as you shove the man away from you, eyes comically wide open as you stare agape at Atsumu. 

“What are you- We can’t- No no no. All of this is wrong. This would KILL Osamu-”

Something inside of Atsumu snaps when he hears his brother’s name from your lips. Even after all this time, you’re still thinking of him? You still care about him? When the better twin is right in front of your fucking face? 

He doesn’t even register he’s shouting those questions in your face, barely registering your terrified eyes as you try to shrink away from him. But your movement of pulling away from him snaps him back to reality and reflexes has his hand twisting in your hair, grabbing you by your roots, fury making him numb to the way you desperately claw at his grip as he drags you to his bedroom. 

You’re too focused on soothing your aching skull when he finally releases you by throwing you onto his bed and pitiful tears stream down your face as you gingerly hold your head, ignorant of how the athlete is rummaging through his closet. In hindsight you’ll wonder why you didn’t try to run while his back was turned, although you already know the answer. This is just Atsumu in one of his moods. He didn’t mean to hurt you. He’ll apologize in just a second. Those are the thoughts fleeting through your mind amidst the sore ache Atsumu has left behind. 

But a warning bell rings relentlessly inside of you as you finally look up when you sense him approaching you, a thick roll of silver duct tape in his hands. 

Had Atsumu always looked so...intimidating?

You try to fight back as you’re suddenly pinned to the bed by a muscular body, flailing and thrashing as calloused hands hold your arms above your hand, tightly wrapping your wrists together, looping extra lengths of the tape around the headboard, securely fastening your arms up and out of the way. But it’s useless, pathetic really, although Atsumu thinks there’s something adorable about how hard you’re trying, only to be easily batted away by his much stronger body as he tears off your clothes and bends your knees, taping your calves to your thighs, one side at a time until both your legs are bound. 

And then there’s silence and stillness other than your wriggling tied form as Atsumu sits back and admires the view of your naked body, reality so much more lucious and gorgeous than he had ever imagined. You struggle against your tight restraints, recoiling as brown eyes leer at you, ravenously devouring the sight of your heaving breasts, raking down your figure before finally landing on your bare pussy on full display as his hands spread your bound legs on either side of you, palms searing your inner thighs with their unwanted warmth as he holds you open. 

One day he won’t need the resilient tape to hold you down and keep you still. One day you’ll let him have you of your own free will. One day you’ll see that he was always the one for you. But he can’t help but feel that there’s something breathtaking about how vulnerable and pretty you are, laid out for him like a wrapped present, something filthily attractive about how striking the silver stripes are against your skin. 

One day he won’t need the resilient tape...but that doesn’t mean he'll stop using it. 

You shudder as he trails his fingers over the duct tape, grinning at you all the while. 

“Can’t have you moving too much if I’m going to breed you. You’ll make all my cum spill out of you.”

He tsks when you frantically struggle at his words, pathetic begs and pleads spilling from your lips as dread fills you from learning exactly what Atsumu has planned for you and suddenly you’re all too aware of just how exposed you are, how tight the front of his pants look as his erection presses against the fabric, how far too close he is to your most intimate part. And you sob as he leans on top of you, pressing his toned body against yours, something hard pressing against your bare pussy as he captures your lips in a kiss to silence you. 

“I thought you would be more thankful considering how you were practically in my arms begging me for kids not even a hour ago. And now I’m here ready to give you what you want and you’re making such a fuss.” 

He rolls his eyes, scoffing as you only sob even harder, body shaking and trembling, sniveling as you stare up at him with teary eyes, begging him to stop. 

“Oh shut up. What? Are you worried about the order of things? Worried I’ll just knock you up and leave you alone? Don’t be stupid. I’ll make sure to put a ring on your finger and marry you after this. Who cares about the order of things when the end result is the same.” 

Your mouth opens and shuts a few times, unsure where to even begin telling him just how wrong his reasoning is, unsure how to even process his words. Ring? Marry? What-

But thoughts fly out of your head when a hungry mouth suddenly descends on your breasts, harshly sucking a nipple between wet lips, fingers roughly twisting and pulling at your other nipple and you wail at the jolt of sudden stimulation, too focused on the tongue lapping at your nipples and lances of arousal swirling inside of you to notice how his free hand is shoving his pants and boxers down and off. 

You hate how quick you are to melt into the delirious pleasure, body craving for the touch of another, to be brought to new heights by another after being left to your own devices for the past few months and you can feel your pussy clench and throb, feeling so exposed and empty, practically begging to be stuffed full as slick begins to form between your legs. And as if Atsumu can hear your body’s silent cry for more, he begins to push the tip of his cock inside of you and your back arches, mouth instinctively opening as he takes his time, pressing past your tight opening, slipping further and further inside of you until he’s finally fully sheathed inside of you, letting your body adjust to him as he continues licking and sucking on your breasts, groaning as he feels your tight walls clamp around him with every move of his mouth. 

Atsumu is not known for his patience, but he tries his damn best to take it as slow as he bearably can for you, dragging his cock back and forth against your gummy walls, constantly adjusting the angle of his hips with every stroke until you’re crying out, and he smirks triumphantly, memorizing the exact position and angle that has you seeing stars as he continuously hits that spongy spot inside of you. And all it takes is for his hand to slide between the two of you and gently circle your clit as he continues his steady assault to have you breaking to pieces underneath him, garbled versions of his name escaping your mouth as your orgasm washes over you in heavy tall waves, his own release joining with yours as your pussy convulses and milks him of his sticky white liquid. 

As post-coital bliss disintegrates, shame and relief flood through you, shame for enjoying it, relief that this ordeal is finally over and you wait. Wait for him to remove the tape. Wait for him to pull out of you. Grimacing as he affectionately nuzzles you and litters your face with kisses. But you panic, pure fear flooding through you when you feel his cock twitching inside of you once more, growing inside of you again. 

“You didn’t think we were done, did you? Need to make sure I fill you with so much cum that your body has no choice but to get pregnant.”

And he stays true to his words, fucking you over and over again, sometimes hard and rough, sometimes passionate and sensual, sometimes soft and gentle, but always finishing inside of you, adding to the splattered pooling mess inside of you. You feel disgusting, the increasingly wet noises as he thrusts in and out of the sticky wet mess inside of you permeating throughout the room, stomach feeling so bloated with cum that you swear you must be pregnant already. 

Quiet, relieved sobs wrack your body when the weight on top of you finally lifts, when he finally pulls out of you and your body slumps down, all the tension leaving it, discomfort taking its place as you feel a torrent of liquid move to rush out of your overfilled cunt, the beginnings of it already starting to trickle out. But despite your aching dry throat, you manage to let out a strangled cry of disbelief when your hips are uncomfortably raised up, upper body almost folded in half as Atsumu keeps your glistening pussy upright, not allowing even a single drop more to escape. 

And in this new position you have no choice but to watch, anxiety coursing through you when he tears off another piece of duct tape, chest hyperventilating as he places it over your gaping hole, effectively sealing you shut and despite the fact that you thought you had no more tears left to shed, new salty teardrops slide down your cheeks at the debauched site of your own pussy being treated as nothing more than an object, a receptacle for his seed, his beaming smug face between your legs only adding to your humiliation as he smiles down at his handiwork. 

All you can do is mindlessly stare when he directs his smile at you, verbally praising himself for how smart he is for finding a way to keep his cum inside of you and making sure all his hard work doesn’t go to waste, mind and body feeling numb and broken as he finally lets your body lay fully back on the bed, slumping down next to you in exhaustion and cuddling your listless and still bound figure. 

“We can go pick out rings together tomorrow, okay? Maybe try a few more times for some runts after. You think the more I cum in you, the better the chance that you’ll have twins?”

You don’t know, but you have a sinking feeling that you’ll soon be finding out.

[hornime]

hq boys and toys | karasuno

warnings: 18+, timeskip!everyone, brat taming, one (1) mention of bondage, threat of orgasm denial, public sex kind of, degradation, double penetration (different holes, one with toy), overstimulation, mention of dumbification, oral (f!receiving), vaginal penetration

characters included: ennoshita, sugawara, tsukishima, daichi, hinata, tanaka, yamaguchi, nishinoya, kageyama

a/n: I WANNA MAKE THIS A SERIES BUT IDK WHAT TEAM TO DO NEXT SO LMK WHICH SCHOOL YOU GUYS WANT

loves them and will use them even before you ask:

>> ennoshita: "stop fucking whining.” the loud squelching of lube swirled in the air as ennoshita thrusted the pink fleshlight up and down the length of his cock. “this could’ve been you if you weren’t such a brat today.” you moaned into the gag, the restraints tying your hands behind your back clinking noisily as your grinded greedily against the vibrator he’d set against your clit. your eyes were rolling into the back of your head as you got close, so close, to your orgasm, your pleasure intensifying with the sound ennoshita’s groans. his voice shocked you out of your thoughts: “and you better not cum until i tell you to. otherwise i won’t touch you at all. got it?”

>> sugawara: "what’s wrong, sweetheart?” suga’s words seemed inconspicuous enough, and the genuinely concerned expression on his face would’ve fooled anyone, but you could see the hunger in his eyes as his gaze bored into you. his thumb moved slightly on the screen of his phone and the vibrations against your crotch intensified, making your hands reach out to grasp at the front of his shirt. you buried your head in his chest in an attempt to muffle the little noises escaping your lips. “wanna go home?” you nodded your head, your grip on the cloth tightening. “we’ve still gotta finish our groceries.” he looked in your eyes, tears threatening to spill from your lashes. “but if you’re good, i might just cut this trip short.”

>> tsukishima: you always knew that tsukishima was a little shit. but it was times like these when you definitely knew he was a little shit. his only purpose in life was to push your buttons, and that button, that had you writhing on the bed and clasping the sheets. “all worked up from a little vibrator?” he scoffed, smiling evilly at your weak form below him. “you’re such a pathetic slut.”

never been super interested in them but will definitely try it out if you want:

>> daichi: "god, you’re gushing. are you really that turned on from having something in your ass?” you moaned in affirmation, the ability to form coherent words ripped from your brain countless orgasms ago. “didn’t know you were gonna like it this much,” he muttered into your shoulder. “but now that i do, i’ll be sure to keep it in mind.” daichi took the pad of his thumb and pressed it on the bejeweled buttplug, pushing it even farther into you. you threw your head back, broken whines leaving your mouth. he grimaced in jealousy at the sight of your hole sucking in the silicone, before glancing back up at your blissful face. “next time, your taking my fingers.”

thinks using them means they’re not doing enough for you: 

>> hinata: “bet i can make you feel a lot better than a stupid toy.” hinata gritted his teeth as he pistoned his cock in and out of you, barelling you both into your orgasms. his moans of pleasure turned into small sobs as he continued his pace, fucking his cum in and out of you, doing his best to ignore the slight pain of overstimulation. “gonna make sure you never need anything other than me to make you feel good,” he gasped. “all right? gonna fuck you so ha—hard and fast that ’m all you can think about.” tears were running down his flushed cheeks as you writhed underneath him. “fuck every thought of those dumb toys out of your silly, little head. don’t worry baby, i’ll make sure you feel good.”

>> tanaka: “still thinking about that vibrator, huh?” tanaka mumbled into your inner thigh before flattening his tongue over the length of your glistening pussy. “still think it can treat your pretty clit better than i can?” he pursed his lips and sucked gently on the bud before pulling your hips higher and plunging his tongue into your hole. he groaned at your taste, eagerly lapping up your juices as if it was his last meal. you reached your orgasm with a mind-shattering shudder, the sheets you wrapped around your fingers the only thing keeping you from flying away. “you liked that, baby? i’ll give you as many of them as you want. as many of them you need to forget about that worthless toy.”

wants you to use toys on them: 

>> yamaguchi: you looked down at the man before you, his shaky breaths and small twitches of his legs caused by the vibrating ring seated at the base of his leaking cock. you straddled him, teasingly rubbing your wet folds over his flushed tip, earning a series of whimpers from him. “you like that, ‘dashi?” you lowered down onto his length at a painfully slow pace, the rhythmic clenching of your cunt causing something inside yamaguchi to snap. he grabbed your hips and pushed you down until he bottomed out. your eyes shot open as a moan was ripped from your throat, hands gripping harshly at his forearms. “’m sick of your teasing,” he growled, swiveling his hips so that the vibrations from the cock ring made direct contact with your throbbing clit. you whined at the overwhelming stimulation, bucking your hips in a feeble attempt to escape the sensation, but he kept his vice grip on your waist. “no, no, none of that. you wanted to use a toy on me, right? you should’ve known that there were going to be consequences. i’m gonna make us both cum so hard that we pass out. hope you’re ready for it.”

>> nishinoya: noya’s nipples looked agonizingly swollen, the original pink color darkened by multiple shades as the clamps made blood rush to the buds. he was fucking you from the back, his back draped over yours, nipples dragging over the sharpness of your shoulder blades with every thrust. “oh, fuck,” he groaned. “din’t know this was gonna feel this good.” as he moved his hips faster and faster, each brush of your skin on his chest grew more and more intense until you were both cumming. “ohmygod, fu—agh!” he bit your shoulder to stifle his noises, the pleasure coursing from every inch of his body sending his mind reeling.

toys? like beyblades?:

>> kageyama: “toys like sex toys, tobio,” you sighed exasperatedly. “you know, like vibrators? dildos? that kind of thing?” he cocked his head to the side, confusion clear on his face. “but why would you want toys when we have each other?” “they can like,” you waved your hand vaguely, “make it feel better. for both of us. we obviously don’t have to anything with them if you don’t want to.” he ran his hand through his hair. “no, i’m definitely interested, just a little... lost. lemme do my research, all right? give me a week,” he smile darkly, “and we’ll see how much ‘better’ these toys can make us feel.”

© property of hornime 2021. do not plagiarize any of my writing and do not repost/copy my writing onto any other sites.

[deceitfuldevil]

Cosmic Glitch

Baron Helmut Zemo X Reader

Summary: You always believed your soulmate was somewhere out there and that one day you'd see color, but the day you met him you refused to accept it. (soulmate AU! where you can't see color until you first look into your soulmates eyes)

Warnings: use of y/n, swearing I think?, poorly written, clearly from my drafts, headcannon turned imagine, fluff <3

Word Count: 2.2K

You had always been close with Sam ever since you served in the Air Force together, you were always up for any mission or task he needed help with.

After everyone was blipped back you had lost your job, so when Sam called you up asking you to tag along on a mission and promised compensation you couldn't turn him down.

You met Sam and Bucky in the garage and when the infamous Helmut Zemo walked in you locked eyes with him, and a fit a color exploded before you.

Zemo had stopped mid sentence

“I really don’t think I’m—“

Your heart sank deep into your chest

“Oh no” you said barely above a whisper.

“I uh, I’m not useful to this operation” he finished, stumbling over his words. Which you'd learn later on was very uncharacteristic of him.

You just stared at him as he nodded at you, a quiet hello.

Your luck was just impeccable wasn’t it? Zemo? Helmet fucking Zemo? It had to be him? The man that tore apart the avengers and bombed the UN for Christ sake! He was a fucking criminal!

The plane ride to Madripoor was above all else, awkward.

You barely spoke, not even making eye contact with anyone unless directly spoken to.

“You alright Y/n?” Sam asked, placing his hand on your shoulder.

You only nodded a small yes, feeling your soulmates prying eyes burning holes into the sight of Sam’s hand on your shoulder.

“Y/n, such a pretty name. I love the way it rolls off the tongue. Y/n.” Zemo said, toying with the sound of your name on his lips. Flustering you, but angering Bucky.

“Cool it Zemo, she’s just a kid.” He warned. Causing Zemo to wave Bucky off with his hand as he took a sip of his warm champagne.

But Bucky was right, you were just a kid. Your soulmate, the Baron for Christ sake, had to be at least 20 some years older than you.

Why did fate set you up with a man that was an adult before you were even born? Didn’t he have a wife before the battle of Sokovia? Maybe this was some kind of cosmic glitch.

I mean, it had to be... right?

Of course you wouldn’t be able to shake the Baron so easily, especially not when you needed a secret cover to pose as in Madripoor

There was only one role for you to play being so new on the “superhero” scene that you were unknown and considering you didn’t look like a single high profile criminal out there.

The Barons fiancé. His schatzi.

Obviously, you couldn’t just show up to a bar in low town in your suit either, so Zemo being ostentatious man that he is came prepared in the worst way possible.

You closed the door to first class and zipped open the black dress bag that Zemo handed you, telling you it would fit well with the part you were due to play.

A very short velvety plum dress sat in front of your color bound eyes. Ridiculously tall heels to match.

It was never something you’d wear out, you’d never have the confidence to wear such a short and expensive dress out to a bar of all places. But the material felt so good and with the new blessing of colored sight almost made you satisfied with outfit presented.

But you walked out fully dressed and maintained your attitude.

“Who am I supposed to be? A high-end hooker?” You quipped, trying to pull the hem of the dress down as far as it would go.

“You, schatzi, will be playing the part of my fiancé.” Zemo said simply. Fixing the cufflink on his left arm.

You stood there awestruck at what he had just said to you. It was hard enough for you to try and ignore that he was your soulmate but now you had to play the part?

“Oh, and you’ll be needing this” he said, digging into his pocket and flicking a ring at you. You caught it, examining it and gasping softly. You had never seen a diamond so big.

You slipped it on your finger, it fit perfectly. Which, made you smile to yourself in a way you knew you shouldn’t have.

He’s a criminal, he’s a psychopath. He’s a criminal, he’s a psychopath. You continually repeated to yourself the whole ride to low town, allowing yourself to think for even a second that just because he was your soulmate meant that he was a good person was not in the books. You simply couldn’t do it.

But as you arrived in the deeper part of Madripoor Zemo informed everyone that they must play their role to a T, because their lives depended on it.

As the car stopped Zemo walked around the side and opened the door for you, grabbing your hand and leading you out. Pressing a gentle kiss to your hand as you stood upright.

You eyes trailed up to his as a blush became evident on your face, when you locked eyes, boom, another shockwave of color screamed into your eyes. You saw the detailing in his fur collar, the bright neon signage all around, the gold detailing in Bucky’s vibraium arm, all of it.

You wanted to see color forever, you hated knowing that if you went without seeing Zemo for too long, the color would fade out.

In ordeal at the bar came and went, the business with Selby is where things got interesting and simultaneously made you nervous.

For some reason it’s almost as if Zemo could sense this because he squeezed your hand tightly and you both sat down on the couch across from Selby.

After everyone else had either been introduced or acknowledged, all that was left was you.

“And who’s this pretty little thing you’ve got yourself here Zemo?” Selby asked, clearing prodding knowing he’d been married before.

“This...” he trailed off, grabbing your left hand to show off the ring “is my beautiful fiancé” he finished

“Oh, got yourself a little trophy wife after the other one kicked the can huh?" She added, staring down the large rock sitting on your finger.

“That’s very sweet of you to think, but this one here is my soulmate. The first woman to ever make me see in color.” Zemo said, his words so sweet honey might as well as been dripping off his tongue. His gaze turned to you, boom, another bright flash of color that made a shiver run down your spine.

“Oh how sweet, but I don’t believe it.” Selby said with a grin, Sam and Bucky tensed up slightly. Siding with Selby because they too didn’t believe Zemo when he referred to you as his soulmate.

“Test me.” You challenged, stupidly if I may add.

“Excuse me?” Selby asked, quirking an eyebrow up at you

“If you don’t believe we’re soulmates, test me. I can name any color you’d like.” You continued, a part of you always looking for a challenge, the other part also wanting to test yourself see if maybe this whole color thing was faulty or one-ended.

“Fine, we’ll start easy. What’s the color of that slutty dress you’ve got on?” She asked, angry that you challenged her

“Easy, the same color as my soulmates turtle neck. A deep purple, plum if you will.” You said carefully caressing the material of Zemo’s shirt

“You could’ve been told that before you arrived, what about my lipstick?” She pressed as she pursed her lips out

“A cheap magenta” you deadpanned, done with her games. She scoffed at you.

“And this couch?” She asked grinning, patting the cushion beside her.

“Trick question. It’s a old a dirty worn out pattern, it has no specific color” you said with a fake smile, Zemo’s hand snaking around your waist as he pulled you a little closer.

The room fell silent just long enough for things to feel awkward before Selby started laughing uncontrollably.

“Well Baron, the universe certainly has picked you a handful! Now what business did you want to do with me again?” And just like that, it was over and you were suddenly running from bounty hunters on the streets.

When Sharon rescued the four of you the ride up to her place in high town was painfully silent. Zemo kept a firm hand on your thigh. Bucky stared off into space ashamed of how easily he fell back into form, and Sam sat on his thoughts wondering if you and Zemo were really soulmates.

No one really spoke to each other, just different conversations with Sharon. After what went down at the Bar and then with Selby... a mood was set, things had changed.

When Zemo stood up and announced he wanted to go join the party and made his way towards the exit you told Bucky you’d keep on eye on him. Sam wanted to protest but at that point you both were already out the door.

You sat from afar watching Zemo on the floor of the club horribly attempting to dance along with the rest of the party-goers. When you laughed a little to yourself he looked up at you, boom, that beautiful shock of color again. It never got old.

But you quickly averted your eyes and disappeared from his gaze as you went to the bar for a drink. When the bartender slid your drink over suddenly Zemo was at your side announcing he’d pay for it.

Zemo started to snake his hand around your waist once more but this time you smacked his hand away

“We’re not playing house anymore, Baron.” You told him, using his formal title.

“But you see what I see, do you not?” He asked, tentatively reaching for your hand.

“See what?” You asked, avoiding his burning gaze. You knew damn well what he was taking about but refused to admit to even yourself. He was a horrible man, a criminal, a rich psychopath! It ached your heart that someone with such a shitty past was who you were meant to be with for the rest of your life.

“The beautiful colors. I see your bright eyes, your sleek hair, those sweet pink lips. Now color is all around me too, I can see the colors of the club. I see the blue radiating off that light, the red in this drink you ordered, the green that lady’s hair! You love opened my eyes, Y/n. With you, I can see.” Zemo pressed on, smiling as he looked in awe at all the colors around him. He placed his hand gently over yours. You flinched but didn’t move away from his touch

“But this has to be wrong. I can’t be the person for you. You had a wife and kids right? Didn’t they bring any color into your life?” You asked, feeling a warm heat rise to your cheeks from the small contact you two were now sharing

“I loved my wife and son sure, but they were always grey to me. Remember that I’m a Baron, when you’re royalty your marriage options aren’t as wide as the universe has set for you.” He pointed out, taking your hand and slowly rubbing your knuckles.

“Still surely this has to be some kind of universal glitch! I mean you’re what? 20 some years older than me? What about all the horrible shit you’ve done? You’re a criminal! I was made to be a hero! We don’t mix, let alone fall in love!” You babbled on

“Listen, y/n. I am not proud of my past, I was a grief stricken man who had just lost his wife and child along with his entire country. I was only doing what I believed to be right at the moment, is that not what you try to do as well?” He asked, trying to find similarities between the two of you. Some common ground.

“Zemo I—“ you started, turning to face him and looking into his hazel brown eyes again and feeling that boom of color that would never get old, but did make you lose your train of thought.

“Zemo I’m scared” you finished off, your planned statement turning into a confession. You didn’t take your eyes off his this time as he stared back down at you. Bring his free hand to your cheek he smiled softly.

“I’m scared too, schatzi. But the feeling you give me makes me feel like everything is going to be alright. Stay with me, ride this out and see where it goes. I promise I’ll make it worth your while. Designer clothes, expensive jewelry, sport cars, you name it and I’ll buy it for you. I’ll fly you any place you’ve ever wanted to go, show you every sight you’ll ever need to see.” He tools breathe, a single tear slipping down his face.

“Please, let’s give this a shot.” He ended. Nine years with losing your wife, child, country, and being imprisoned for a few years really changed a man; and made him that much more desperate for someone like you, his soulmate, to stay.

And stay you did. The first year was rocky wrapping things up with the super soldiers on the loose and clearing Zemo’s name in the eyes of the Power Broker and the UN. Based on his efforts to take down the last of the super soldiers and good words from Sam and Bucky his sentence was reduced to one year under house arrest, which made for a great way to get to know each other better.

The years after that were far beyond smooth sailing, they were dare you even say perfect. You traveled the world with Zemo, lived the most lavish life, saw the most amazing things.

All in color.

[sserpente]

A/N: Surprise! Here’s the thing—I don’t normally write sub!Loki at all. However, since Christmas is a time of gifting and making wishes come true and it has been requested quite a few times in the past, I decided to take on an anon request. I can’t write fully-fledged sub!Loki, I just can’t… so I hope this will do! There’s another anon request in there too. I hope you all enjoy it!

Words: 2357 Warnings: sub!Loki-ish, fluff, smut

Additional NSFW warnings: light bondage, oral, usage of anal sex toy

-

You cursed when you stubbed your toe on the door, shutting it aggressively all the while flinging your bag into the corner like it was the reason for all of your problems. You were trembling, anger and exhaustion gnawing at your guts.

When you let out a desperate sigh as you kicked off your winter boots, Loki tilted his head. He had appeared in the threshold leading to the living room on your floor—an entire floor on Stark Tower, all to yourself. Today, however, this very circumstance did not cheer you up in the slightest.

“A good evening to you too, pet.” He said, eyeing you with curiosity.

“I bloody hate working in retail!” You spat in response. “Why are people being so idiotic, can you tell me that? Oh, I want a refund on this obviously used item which I don’t even have the receipt for, oh, can’t you hurry up I need to catch a train—I had hours to spend on browsing but I want to pay for this immediately or I’m just gonna leave, oh, can you recommend a gift for my niece, I barely know her or her interests but surely you’ll find a gift for her because I am too lazy to use my own brain?” You were fuming. Loki chuckled.

“My dear… breathe.” He was never this gentle with any of the other Avengers but then again, you were the only one he had taken a romantic and sexual interest in. You sighed when he approached you to pull you into a tight embrace, forcing you to calm down for him. Your hands wrapped around his middle almost automatically, allowing him to lift you off the ground and carry you into your bedroom.

Loki spent most of his time in your flat here in Stark Tower. Here, he wasn’t always under suspicion of plotting world domination again—and in fact, all he did was reading, stealing your sweets and learning more about Midgardian culture, first and foremost Christmas. Last week, you had forced him through all Santa Clause films and he had actually ended up enjoying them in the end.

Another sigh escaped your lips as you pressed your face against his chest, letting his hand stroke over your head. Perhaps you should finally let the cat out of the bag and tell the others about your relationship. Loki could be so sweet… and he loved being pampered by you, even if you made sure to take your time teasing him thoroughly first.

“Is there a particular reason you left me a gift this morning?” He changed the topic. Oh yes. You had almost forgotten about this. You had shoved part of Loki’s Christmas gift into his green and gold socket above your bed before you had left this morning. It was Christmas Eve and since you would be spending the 25th with the other Avengers, you had decided that him receiving part of his gift in private would be more appropriate.

“Me?” You asked, playing innocent. “That must have been Santa, Lokes.”

“Are you going to tell me what exactly it is?” He probed. You giggled, looking up at him with innocent eyes.

“I was hoping you’d ask. Where did you put it?” Loki conjured it up seemingly out of thin air—you’d never grow tired of seeing him use his seidr—and handed you a black plastic packaging which contained an equally black butt plug with a prostate massager for men. Loki and you had recently had a conversation about toys for men as opposed to women only and much to your surprise, he had shown quite the interest in the topic. The faces of the Avengers would have been priceless, had you put it under the Christmas tree for him along with his main present.

You grinned. “Lie down on the bed for me—and magic your clothes off, will you?” Loki smiled at your request. He did not often let you command him around like that—but when he did he knew you needed it, to have some fun with his arousal for you to distract yourself from work and other sorrows, much like today. You shouldn’t be in such a bad mood on Christmas Eve, after all.

Still smiling gently, he did as he was told and then slightly raised his eyebrows for you to make the next move. You winked at him after admiring his semi-hard cock for a bit, disappearing in the bathroom. Once you had returned, hands washed, clothes changed and sex toy sanitised properly, you got to work. Loki’s eyebrows shot up all the way when you produced the bondage rope you kept in the drawer right next to the bed and then climbed on the bed as well, straddling his strong thighs.

“Please? Let me play.” You pouted. Loki sighed—allowing you to tie his hands together and then to the bedpost. Both of you were very well aware that he could rip himself free at any time—it was more a matter of it looking pretty and downright hot to have the God of Mischief tied up and at your mercy, at least hypothetically.

He shifted on the mattress just a little when you reached for the toy again which you had already coated in a thick layer of strawberry lube and brought it to his anus. It was designed to directly stimulate his prostate and you positively couldn’t wait to see his reaction.

“What are you doing?” His question was a warning; reminding you it was a privilege he was playing submissive for you and that the… situation could change at any moment. You swallowed, your own arousal pooling in your knickers like a waterfall.

“Trust me? It will feel good, I promise.”

Loki sighed once more—and gasped when you slowly and carefully worked the butt plug inside of his rear. His cock twitched, joyful anticipation mixing with impatience. By the time it was snugly in place, he was as hard as rock and moaned upon you wrapping your hand around him, giving him a few strokes with your hands partially still covered in the strawberry lube you had used.

Loki bucked his hips almost immediately, growling when you drew your hand away again. You chuckled. “You look pretty adorable like that, you know… desperate for pleasure…”

He growled in response. “You will be the one desperate for pleasure and begging me for my touch if you keep this up for long.” He threatened. Your giggle intensified. You felt so much better already.

“Just you wait.” You said, pressing the button of the small bullet vibrator inserted into the butt plug. Loki tensed up when it hummed to life, sending continuous vibrations through his anus and stimulating his prostate.

Then, taking mercy on him, your hand returned to his impressive length, jerking and pleading for attention. A few drops of precum had already formed on his red tip—it was too tempting to ignore. Unceremoniously, you bent down and closed your lips around him, licking over his slit and lapping up all he had to give for now.

Loki tugged at his restraints. A little more strength and he’d tear them apart altogether and he was barely just containing himself anymore already. Knowing he could stop this anytime and pin you down underneath him to just take what he desired for some reason only fuelled his arousal. He bucked his hips in an attempt to plunge himself deeper into your mouth but you were being particularly relentless today. He growled once more, watching how a grin formed on your lips. With a smacking sound, you released him again, continuing to stroke him all the while the prostate massager kept vibrating inside of his rear.

“Does that feel good?” You asked, almost timidly. Loki was an experienced lover, you knew this much. How many Asgardian women had had the pleasure to learn what had earned him the nickname silver tongue you did not want to know and yet, even though his confidence in bed and knowledge of pleasing a woman was exciting, at the very same time it intimidated you.

Loki nodded, blue eyes locked with yours. “Yes. Keep going, my dear.” It almost sounded like an order—one you’d do better not to defy. You took it as an invitation and pressed the button of the vibrator again.

The setting was on high now—but not high enough to tip him over the edge just yet. You needed to hear him whimper first. You had managed once, a few weeks back when Loki had allowed you to tie him up and tease him for a while for the very first time. In the end, it had resulted in him flipping you around and fucking you roughly from behind so hard you had been unable to walk the next day. Your cunt clenched upon remembering how deliciously sore you had felt. It was a risk you were willing to take again.

Loki bucked his hips once more, thrusting up in a steadier rhythm now and desperate for more friction… which gave you another idea. Biting your lower lip, you stood from the bed and peeled off the comfy trousers you had changed into, right along with your underwear. If only Loki could see the wet spot on them as you stepped out of them, he would be grinning like a cat who got the cream but fortunately for you, you were in charge tonight—or at least, for now.

He eyed you like a hungry wolf, growling in an animalistic manner as soon as your slick pussy lips rubbed against his tip and you massaged your clit with it for a while before slowly, painfully slow, sinking down on him and sheathing his cock deep inside of you. You moaned, throwing your head back. Riding him always felt so much deeper than when he was on top… unless he hauled your legs over his shoulders that was.

“More…” He choked out, his blue gaze getting almost feverish, about to turn him into a mindless beast. You stilled, not moving an inch and just kept him inside of you all the while the vibrator in his rear kept stimulating him. He gritted his teeth when you failed to move, bucking up his hips in a desperate attempt to get you to ride him but you decided to take your time. Leaning forward, you began covering his chest and neck in light kisses, tongue darting out every now and then to taste him. Loki was already sweating, his limbs shaking and you knew then just how badly he needed his release. The restraints keeping his hands above his head on the bedpost gave a suspicious tearing sound as he thrust up into you once more.

He was close. He was so close. Smiling, you kissed him and moved back up and into a sitting position. Your fingers found the switch of the vibrator, turning the setting even higher. There was no need for you to move and ride him anymore. Loki came by himself and finally, gave you the whimper you had so desired to hear from him. Your lips parted when he starting twitching inside of you, spilling himself with a groan. His warm seed coated your walls, his cock jerking until he was all but spent. Once he had caught his breath, you turned off the vibrator… for now.

“Get that lovely quim of yours up here.” He ordered with a hoarse voice, once more raising the question whether you had ever truly been in charge of his pleasure. But who were you to defy him? Biting your lower lip, you let him slide out of you, whimpering at the loss of feeling so deliciously full, inched forward until your most private parts were only inches from his mouth and then carefully sat again, your thighs to either side of his head.

Loki wasted no time. Humming contently, he licked over your slit and clit, suckling on your outer lips and circling your sensitive bundle of nerves, tongue pressing against it, massaging it, until you dug your fingers into his raven hair, urging him on. You were so incredibly wet for him it wouldn’t take you long to gush all over him either and so you did. Loki ate you out like you were his last meal, pampering your clit until your body couldn’t take it anymore and you fell, seeing stars as your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave, drowning you in pure pleasure. You only realised once you lifted yourself off his face because he would not stop that he had wrapped his fingers around the bars of the top of the bed. The bondage rope was torn apart beyond repair.

You smiled, allowing him you wrap you in his arms as he flipped you both around so you came to lie on the bed more comfortably.

“Feeling more relaxed now, my dear?” He asked with a sly smile.

“Much better. Thank you.” Loki hummed in response. “I’m pretty hungry… how about an early Christmas dinner? Just the two of us, without the others.”

“That sounds promising. But first I will need you to get that thing out of me.” He said, eliciting a devilish grin from you.

“I think I’m gonna leave that thing where it is for now. You’ll get a taste of your own medicine. Remember that golden butt plug you made me wear on Christmas last year? Revenge is sweet. So…” You paused. “Are you going to help me cook?”

Loki’s expression darkened, sending pleasant shivers up and down your spine. “You are going to remove that right now.”

“Nope,” you announced smugly, freeing yourself from his embrace and climbing off the mattress. “I’ll be in the kitchen, whenever you’re ready.”

Truth be told, you never made it to the kitchen. Loki was after you in a matter of seconds, dragged you back into bed and made sure you came to regret teasing him like that. Oh, and you most definitely lost count after at least five more orgasms.

-

A/N: There’s a hint in there for another smutty Loki Christmas Imagine soon to come. Can you find it? ;-)

If you enjoyed this story, I would appreciate it so much if you considered supporting me on Kofi! It’s either for caffeine or red wine, I’ll take both. ko-fi.com/sserpente ♥ 

[missyasf]

Game Of Hearts

| 4 | 

↳ Summary: Your life is in monotonous tones of grey, day in, day out. Nothing matters besides your sister, the only thing you remember is seeing fireworks before waking up to Tokyo abandoned . Soon enough you are properly introduced to the deadly Borderlands where you must fight for your life in Games to survive. When things can’t possibly get worse soon division arises and rivalries are made. No matter what though, you are constantly plagued by a blonde who, no matter how hard you try, just can’t seem to go too far without.

↳ Pairing: Chishiya/Reader

↳ Genre: Angst, smut, thriller

Word Count: 10k

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Trigger Warning: ⚠️ much like the manga/Netflix adaptation this will be a dark fic which includes mentions of prostitution, attempted murder, child ab*se, sexual harassment, heavy grief and attempted suic*de among other things. Additional warnings will be added for chapters when triggers are brought up. Please read with caution if these are triggers for you or just skip all together!

15th Day Sojourn 

“Nanami!?” You opened the curtains of her room, your face screwed in anger as she groaned curling into her bed, “What the hell!? You have one day left on your visa and you got hammered!? And what?” You waved at her as she pulled the blanket up upon realization she wasn’t dressed. At all, “Decided to get railed while you’re at it!?” 

She groaned as she collapsed back against the bed, “Sorry I don’t have a death wish like you do,” She sneered making your lips part as you scoffed at her words. Death wish!? You understood, going out when it wasn’t required wasn’t something most chose to do. But you had a good dynamic going with Ryu, Hiroko and Akari. You all made a good group together, and it wasn’t every night!

It was just a few times a week! It had been a little over, two? Three weeks at most now? That you had been at the beach? Life was about as good as it could be given the circumstances of your living space. But you made it work. 

Truthfully, you weren’t sure what direction your relationship with Nanami was headed, you understood you saw one another less but...It was like this before you had arrived at the Borderlands, what had changed? You felt confused and a bit lost, Nanami had only gotten more and more annoyed recently well...anytime you spoke to her truthfully.

You glared down at the empty bottles, obviously the Beach was the problem here. It was a gateway to all kinds if bad habits that Nanami had clearly taken up. You hardly saw her anymore because she was either too busy partying with her new friends or completely wasted, “This…! Nanami! This isn’t you.” You threw the bottle onto the ground next to her bed as you threw up your hands, “At all! You’d never be this tardy on the day you prep for a game!” 

Nanami groaned loudly as she got out of bed, holding the sheet up as she grabbed her clothes, looking irritated at your presence as she growled, “Since when do you care about my games!?” She fumbled as she got dressed as best she could, “All you ever do is try and throw your life away! You never even tell me when you’re going out! One of these days you’re gonna go out and it’ll be the last time I ever see you! Do you realize how stressful that is!?” 

Pulling up her bikini top she immediately shoved the door of the room open as your lips parted quickly chasing after her, “You don’t think I try to tell you!?” You shouted back, people immediately making way through the hallway as your brows pinched, “You were too busy getting fucked against a wall when I tried to tell you last week! What the fuck! This is not completely my fault! I could be better about it sure but you…!” 

Nanami paused at the end of the steps, now in the lobby as she turned to face you, “But me!? There’s nothing about me! You are so fucking suffocating! I’m not a child Y/n!” An indiginant hurt panged through your chest at her words.

Hopping off the last step you followed after her as your fists curled, “I wouldn’t if you stopped acting like one!” You shouted back, anger coursing through your veins at her accusations, what was with her behavior!? You’d lay back if it meant she’d stop this...these destructive habits! 

If she wanted to drink that was fine, if she wanted to sleep with someone it was whatever, she was an adult but this was way too excessive! “All I see is someone trying to prove she's an adult when all she is, is trying way too hard to be someone she isn’t!” 

You didn’t care how half the people in the lobby looked awkward and somehow a lot of people were quickly finding the exit. Nanani gasped as she turned around, you could almost see the steam coming out of her ears as her fists curled, “You…! You have no idea who I even am!” She snarled back, “Other than looking at me like a baby! You’ve always been too busy with your friends or school or work and half the time you lied! Why is it I got to hear from somebody other then you that you fucked people for a living. That you were a whore for money!” 

You immediately looked away from her as you crossed your arms defensively, hurt beginning to throb in your chest at her words, feeling somewhat caught off guard at that being brought up. You weren’t embarrassed, ashamed? Maybe a little despite your mind telling you that you shouldn’t be. 

“Y/n you are NOT mom, you will never be mom. Ever since she died you’ve felt the need to be some fucking savior for me and you don’t! You have no idea what I need. So push off and stop acting like you do!” Nanami snapped, her eyes burning with an anger that looked a lot like hate.

That...You wouldn’t deny that stung. You could hear footsteps quickly walking away as you looked at your feet, your eyes stinging and your vision blurring as your lips quivering and your expression contorted somewhat painfully in an attempt to try to not let the sting of pain burn too deep. 

She was just angry, you told yourself in an attempt to lick the wounds that were already in your heart to begin with. It was like being reopened and salt being doused onto it. 

You only felt more angry as you furiously rubbed away the warm trail of liquid on your cheeks, irritation blossoming in your chest at the feeling of eyes on you as you hissed, “You can stop staring!” Turning to face the white hood that had been leaned against the wall, previously on his phone but much like everyone else it was hard for Chishiya to not stare at the drama unfolding five feet away.

“Well,” Chishiya clacked his tongue, a semi amused expression his face as he spoke, “What did I tell you?” He quickly shut his mouth at the glare you sent him, wiping your cheek once more, your lips pathetically quivering, he probably thought that and hey, you’d admit it was pretty pathetic. 

“I get it you don’t really care about my feelings but I really don’t appreciate the ‘I told you so’ right now,” You waved towards your face as you sniffed wrapping your arms around yourself as you waved a hand at the door, “You know, I never intended to…” 

You pressed your tongue into your cheek as you sharply inhaled, “It doesn’t matter,” You sighed looking low, as you rubbed your eyes, “You were right. But I never meant for it to come off like that. Everything I ever did in my life was so that she’d never have to go through what I did.” 

There it was again, the bitter tears that threatened to escape your eyes as you stared down at your blurry hands, “To have that kicked back in my face- excuse me for being human, but I feel like the tears are justified.” You looked up at him again as you sniffed, rubbing your eyes again that glossed with wetness.

“And I would never hold that above her or against her. I know she didn’t ask for that, but that’s how much I love her. She is all I have. She would never need to thank me for what I’ve done. I’d do it again no questions asked. But that? That was uncalled for.” You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to not let yourself get anymore upset then you already were. 

“Well, you can’t control how she reacts, obviously.” Chishiya shrugged, having been, maybe a little too used to your random bursts of emotions as he spoke in a sing-song voice, “But the more power you give her the more it’ll make you upset. You should really just drop it.” 

You puffed a breath as you rubbed your eyes, “I can’t stand you some days.” Your lips quivered into a pout making Chishiya scoff, probably due to how pathetic you looked.

“Because I’m right?” He spoke as he stepped off the wall, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jacket as he raised his brows. You didn’t reply to him as you crossed your arms. Things between you both had been...interesting to say the least. 

You by no means considered yourself close friends but...ever since the three of hearts games, you could only assume, that you both had come to a certain understanding of one another. Most days you had never even meant to talk to him. You just always happened to be in the same place at the same time.

Finally you rolled your eyes, feeling a little more composed as you huffed, “There's no debating with you about whether or not you’re right.” You glanced up at him and it was his turn to stay silent before a cocky smirk curved on his lips making you throw your head back with a sigh to try to cover the urge to laugh, yes that was a very familiar sight, “Your ego is gonna get you killed one day.” 

You turned to start walking as Chishiya replied, “Maybe, if someone actually takes the bluff. But I don’t think anyone will.” You clacked your tongue, shaking your head as you said nothing in return. In some ways, you even believed him.

If there was anything you had learned about Chishiya it was that he truly was an insane combination of cold and calculating, mixed with a sense of naiveness that others falsely perceived him as, with a dash of, menacing playfulness? But just enough chaos mixed to keep anyone from truly figuring him out. 

Still to this day it was difficult to read him. But in some ways, you really enjoyed it. And some parts of you, deep down, did enjoy his company. He always had some dry or witty remark to make, no matter how unpleasant he could be at times.

“Are we still on for tonight?” You looked up at him, a small smile on your face as you both exited to the pool yard where music was blasting and it was permanently summertime, who would’ve thought you were in the Borderlands here, honestly.

Chishiya raised a brow as he spoke, “I’d assume, unless you’re gonna be useless and sulk the whole time.” You rolled your eyes at him, an amused snort escaping you.

“No…! But,” You paused making him pause, “Ah, who knows maybe I’ll just get hit by a car and I won’t have to deal with that anymore.” You waved towards Nanami with her friends as you snickered, making Chishiya roll his eyes at your theatrics, forever the drama queen in his opinion.

“Y/n!” Your gaze shot to where Ryu and Hiroko were laid out in lawn chairs next to the pool where Akari was sitting at the edge. You glanced to Chishiya as you sighed with a shrug, he had attempted to part ways only for Hiroko to glare, “You too sour ass!” Chishiya’s gaze cut into Hiroko who didn’t budge in the slightest at him making you sigh as you rubbed your neck.

Truthfully, you couldn’t help but wonder if Chishiya actually made the effort in talking to anyone outside of you. And that could be argued that you generally initiated conversation. Had it not been for you, you doubt Hiroko would be able to stand Chishiya at all. 

“What’s up?” You asked as you both stood in front of their chairs, Hiroko crossed her legs, a margarita in hand despite it being lunch time at best but hey, you couldn’t exactly blame her given the state of where you all lived. 

Her expression crumpled a little as she looked between you and Nanami who was on the other side of the pool, “You two good? We ah...heard some yelling?” She raised a brow making you huff as you crossed your arms, looking away from them, “Okay…” Hiroko clacked her tongue, “Well we’re getting ready to go out to get some supplies, food stock is getting low in the back and we needed some help.” 

Chishiya’s expression twisted just by a hair making Hiroko’s eyes sharpen on him as he looked away giving a very loud sigh as if inconvenience by this, “Is there an option to decline?” 

“No.” 

“We’d be happy to help.” You glanced at Chishiya briefly before given a smile to Hiroko and Ryu, “I’ve never done a supply run before so you’ll have to show me the ropes though.” Truth be told you kept yourself fairly busy. You often enjoyed exploring in your off time, and while sitting at the pool was nice, it got fairly boring by yourself day in and out. 

So you went out to the parks you knew, you’d go to the ocean front when possible, you had even taken up the hobby of going on a jog each morning. Anything to remind you that you were alive. Contrary to how some perceived it, you felt almost numb in a way to your life being put on the line. To be put into extremely perilous situations, it had taken a toll on your mental health. 

Even if you couldn’t recognize it at the moment, and so you had tried your best to pick up hobbies to keep you occupied and away from the addictive sensation of Games. So you often took walks now and explored around the city in your free time. 

“It’s easy!” Hiroko stood up as she smiled brightly at your enthusiasm compared to the sour grey cloud that crossed his arms while rolling his eyes, “We have a masterlist written out of what we need to get, you’re free to pick up anything you’d like while we’re out!” 

“Anything…?” You tilted your head before a smile tugged on your lips, “Alright! Lemme just go get something to change into on our way out!” Everyone thought you were either vain or insecure but truthfully, you just really hated the swimwear rule. 

The moment you stepped off beach property was the moment you were wearing sweatpants and something comfortable. After you had gotten changed the four of you set off as you looked down the long list, mainly canned goods were needed, some dry goods as well and…”Are these farm locations?” 

“Mhm, we can get a lot of fresh produce from there! It took awhile of searching but it’s a pretty good spot! We’ll get that on our way back though!” Ryu answered chipperly as he leaned back in his seat up front looking the exact opposite Chishiya who was slouched in his seat looking bored. 

You actually quite enjoyed the ride, they used the CD player in the car to play music and briefly, you were taken back to a time in life when things weren’t so intense. It’s hard to believe you ever had a problem in your old life before you came to the Borderlands, everything in comparison now seems so...Childish, in a way, your problems weren’t as bad as you ever thought. 

After helping gather canned goods and whatever snacks were on the list you had made your way through the store, stray shopping carts were abandoned and remnants of life still remained, not a lot, but just enough for it to feel eery, it really did make you wonder what happened to everyone. 

“There’s a cart right there, you’re gonna break the ones you already have if you keep that up.” You snapped your head to glare at Chishiya as you fumbled with the canvases you were holding, “You know that used to be someone's cart right!” You rolled your eyes as you set them down in the empty cart that had been rolled towards the notebook section. 

 “And now it’s yours. You’re so emotional.” He sighed in exasperation, his eyes sharply looking down at all the paint material before he snorted as if amused by something making your brows furrow in suspicion. 

“I’m not! It’s just having human decency, you know people used to live in this place before whatever happened,” You crossed your arms, tutting as you kneeled down, grabbing a jar of paint in each color, “Although I won’t lie, the cost of living has effectively gone down since then.” 

You briefly looked at the expensive price tag that was placed under the paints before placing them into the cart carefully as you twisted back around, rolling the cart towards the brushes. 

“Just at the cost of living now,” Chishiya puffed as he crossed his arms, “Shouldn’t you be buying psychology books or something more useful?”  His gaze narrowed as you looked over your shoulder at him, now annoyed at his presence that was endlessly judging your every move. 

“Shouldn’t you be helping Hiroko find the chip aisle?” Chishiya’s gaze turned cold making you snort, a smile of amusement dancing on your lips as you plucked the first brush from it’s container, “Okay...I guess not. You two really don’t like each other huh.” 

“She’s an idiot that thinks she’s smarter than she is,” Chishiya replied, that loose cold tone of his as always making you roll your eyes, “I’d rather be here then in her insufferable presence.” a bit harsh but this was Chishiya, he often rolled between seemingly innocent and scheming to downright cold hearted at times. 

“I’m flattered that you’re so interested in my hobbies then!” You replied with a fake peppiness as you swirled around to face him, dumping a pile of brushes into the cart, “Also, just because I’m a psych major doesn’t mean my whole life revolves around it. It’s like saying just because your a med student all you know is how to OD someone and that’s all you do.” 

Chishiya clacked his tongue as he raised his brows while shrugging making your expression crumple as you huffed, crossing your arms, “Have you killed someone before coming here? Seriously? I would NOT want you to be my doctor.” 

This made somewhat of an amused smirk quirk on his lips as he looked down at you, “I haven’t, but I supposed if it made you feel better I can say I have.” You rapidly blinked, staring at him as if he was insane, “How is that supposed to make me feel better? That just makes me even more uneasy, you could be lying through your teeth and I’d never be able to tell.” 

You flailed your arms as you rolled the cart out of the aisle, Chishiya following behind making no effort to show he was in a hurry as he snorted, “For a psychology major I guess I just thought you’d be better at reading people. Guess you’re dumber than you look huh.” 

“Do you have some kind of god complex with being smart?” You turned to face him as your expression contorted, “Because yes! I fully admit I’m an idiot, that's not an insult to me. My power is not in my brain but my heart, unfortunately.” You pointed at your heart before wincing a little, truthfully it wasn’t always what it was cracked up to be, “You know what- What’s with that anyways?” You furrowed your brows as you leaned your arms against the handle of the cart, “You really value intellect that much?” 

You had noticed that pattern in Chishiya’s speech, an insult he regularly used was among demeaning to someone's intelligence, but not in the childish way it was often used, he meant it literally. As if nothing could be more embarrassing to someone then being dumb, to which you didn’t understand or hold any value too. He was proof that intelligent people were not always the most kind hearted. 

Chishiya stared at you for a long minute, his expression unchanging as you shrugged pushing the cart as you peered down the next aisle, “I view life as a game I intend to win,” He relented making you pause as you looked back at him, your head titled, his smile looked viscous as he spoke, “And anyone who doesn’t have any wit to play is destined to lose. And I will win, because nobody is smart enough to beat me.” 

You puffed a breath as you raised your brows with a breathy chuckle, “You sound like you need a good group therapy session, is all I hear when you speak. But hey, I guess you’re doing great now considering our lives are being turned into literal games now. I guess every mentality pays off in it’s own way.” 

You picked up the pack of prism colored pencils from the end cap as you flipped them to look at the back of the package, “And all I hear is a defeatist mentality from you.” You peered up at Chishiya with an amused expression at his words as you shook your head, all he did was talk but never made any point, was he trying to figure you out in the elusive way possible? 

“I’m not a defeatist, I’m just not as ruthless as you, in the way I view life that is. Why? Are you curious about my take on the world?” You teased a little, knowing this would immediately disengage him and just as you thought you watched him puff a breath, his arms crossing and his gaze becoming narrow. 

“Why would I have any interest in someone who openly admits to being an idiot?” Chishiya replied, that irritated cat-like expression on his face  and that annoying sing-song tone of his, you sighed, rolling your eyes, having learned to not take his cold words so seriously anymore, “If anything, the more you speak, the more confirmation I have that you’re right, you’re a total moron that has no clue what she’s ever talking about.” 

Your face scrunched a little as you placed the pack of pencils in the cart before turning to face him, “Then why are you still talking to me?” You asked, raising your hands a little, and when he didn’t reply you smiled, “I mean really, if I’m so obnoxiously stupid, to the point of even admitting it, Wouldn’t it make sense that you’d just ignore me?” 

Chishiya sighed as he glanced up at the ceiling, “Because you’re the most tolerable out of everyone here. But even you just open your mouth and shit flies out, I thought maybe with you being in an intellectual major you’d be more prophetic than you are?” 

He stopped in a look of mild confusion at why you were giggling so much at his words, you had to cover your mouth as you raised your brows in delight, “Awwh! I didn’t realize you thought of me like that! I would’ve tried harder to psychoanalyze you more if that was the case!” 

You laughed as you pushed your hair back leaning against the cart as you shook your head in amusement, “No but seriously, I think you’re getting psychology and philosophy mixed up here. I still only have one functioning braincell, sorry to disappoint.” Your nose scrunched as you smiled before pushing the cart into the next aisle. 

“To answer your original question, since wifi isn’t a thing and the internet virtually doesn’t exist anymore I’m trying to find new hobbies to keep me out of games from boredom.” Admittedly, it wasn’t that, you’d say you were addicted to the feeling of putting your life on the line. You hadn’t been in the Borderlands that long. 

But something about the adrenaline and the peril need to solve something, it kept your mind active and buzzing for a good few days, even after clearing a game. You already had over two weeks on your visa so there wasn’t really a need to go out and do something as reckless as playing a game. 

Truthfully, you were very grateful you had run into Hiroko and Ryu in your first game, and admittedly also Chishiya who had found the Beach in the matter of hours after being told. Because of them, you weren’t nearly as fearful as you could have been, even now. 

Being with your friends who were more experienced, it gave you confidence that you’d all solve everything and things would turn out okay. And maybe to some degree that mentality was dangerous.

More than anything, you knew you needed to become desensitized to the games and the cruel reality of the Borderlands if you wanted to last long. That was the real reason you had been pushing yourself to clear games every few nights. You weren’t addicted to the sensation, you just needed to push yourself into an indifferent state of mind. 

It wasn’t healthy, you above anyone else knew that, but you knew it was necessary for your mind to adapt to survive. 

 “What about you med boy? Don’t you have any hobbies outside of fucking with people and making kids cry?” Your lips curled into a smile as you looked over your shoulder, watching Chishiya clack his tongue, rolling his eyes as you snorted. 

“What makes you think I talk to children?” You raised your hands in surrender, “Fair enough,” You glanced at him, the silence loud for just a brief moment before you tried to fight the smile on your face as you pressed your tongue into your cheek as he continued, “I’m like anyone else, I can go for a good game of mahjong, chess and on occasion I enjoy building an taser gun-” 

You paused as you whirled around, “A what gun?” Your brows crinkled together in confusion at how his sentence jumped from zero to one hundred as quick as it did. 

Chishiya made a noise that sounded something between a scoff and snort at your contorted expression, his hands in his pockets as he leaned against the shelf, “I was in robotics as a kid and straight A’s in science and chemistry. I build things.” 

“Like...weapons?” You rubbed your head as you frowned, looking away from him as you let out a somewhat wry laugh, “Jeez, so you’re basically saying you’ve always been this intense even before the Borderlands huh.” You puffed a breath as you puckered your lips, suddenly a childish smile on your face, “Wait! So in theory…! Could you...build like a- a slingshot?” 

“What are you a child?” 

“Well...what about...a bing-bag gun?” 

“Already did that in grade school.” 

“Stun gun?” 

“Vague description but yes I’ve built things similar in function.”

Your lips twisted into a pout as you let your chin rest on the handlebar of the cart, “...Flamethrower?” 

Chishiya’s eyes squinted a little as you smiled in victory before he sighed, “No but that’s theoretically the easiest to build.” You crossed your arms, he was just giving excuses now! 

“How? How could a flame thrower be easy to build!?” You threw up your arms now annoyed at his confidence. 

“Ah, any flammable spray can and lighter, next question?” He quirked a brow, now looking semi amused at your expression as you huffed, now out of ideas, to be fair, just how many weapons could be built from scratch anyways? Impressive sure, but before the Borderlands, just how useful was it anyways? Let alone legal? 

“Okay well I’m out of things to ask,” You clacked your tongue, looking away from him briefly before smiling, “Oh…! It’s probably a bad idea but we should go find a spray can, then, I’ve never tried that before!” 

What’s the worst that could happen anyways?

“You...burned the store down…?” Akari rubbed her head in disbelief as you pouted, Hiroko having thoroughly chewed your ass out on how irresponsible you were as you sat in the pool chair, your hands on your face and your cheeks puffed. 

“How was I supposed to know the flames traveled up to seven feet! It’s Chishiya’s fault, he should’ve at least given me a fair warning!” You threw up your hands as you accused the unbothered blonde.

“I tried, didn’t I?” Chishiya laid out in his chair next to you, a pair of black aviators covering his eyes and this had to be the first time you had seen him without his jacket on, his hair shockingly tied up into a bun and away from his face aside the two strands hanging down as always.

“But like always you wouldn’t shut up and stop to listen. So I thought experience would be the best teacher,” Chishiya shrugged casually, a smug expression on his face as he spoke, “Fortunately for me that’s the last time Hiroko ever asks us to go out with them again. It's a win-win if you look at it like that.”

You whined as you bounced in your seat, leaning back as you sighed, “Hiroko was so pissed off she said she didn’t wanna see me the rest of the day. She really could be a mom.” 

“Awh’ does that mean you ain’t coming tonight for the game?” Akari flicked her hat up a little as she raised a brow making you slump with a sigh, you were sure you could go, Hiroko wouldn’t actually stick to her word but...You admittedly felt kinda bad, you just wanted to kill a little time while Ryu and Hiroko finished up. 

“I’ll probably sit tonight out, it’s not like I need to clear a game anyways, my visa has nearly two weeks on it and I don’t wanna do a game by myself.” You crossed your arms with a sulk, you didn’t feel confident enough in yourself to attempt a game without anybody else, and if you died nobody would ever know. 

Akari whistled as she pressed the beer bottle to her lips, “That sucks,” She took a long chug as your nose wrinkled a little, “But hey! Maybe you could talk to Nanami, she’s been pretty sour the whole morning. I tried talkin’ to her earlier but she was pretty snippy.” 

You curved a brow in curiosity, sure Nanami had been mad at you but Akari? They were probably closer friends then you and Akari were any day of the week, “Why?” You rubbed your head, maybe she was just in a mood altogether today. 

Akari’s face twisted as she snorted, “Because of you.” 

Your head collapsed against the chair as you inhaled sharply, “If she’s still mad about this morning then I’m gonna need a drink before I even try to talk to her. Do you know what’s going on with her? Because I’m extremely lost as to what her problem is.” 

Akari placed a hand on her hip as she sighed in exasperation, “I dunno’ other than maybe that group of friends she’s with. They’re all pretty bad apples in my humble opinion, ever since she started hanging out with them she's been pretty moody.” 

You placed a hand on your forehead as you sighed, “Right, of course, it’s always the friends,” You collapsed back into your chair as you stretched out, “Listen, don’t get me wrong,” you placed a hand in front of you to block out the sun as you looked up at Akari, “I love Nanami, and I want to work things out with her. I do, but right now?” 

You clacked your tongue in semi disappointment, “Me trying to talk to her is only going to make her push me away even more and make even dumber choices. If she needs to go through this, then she’s gonna have to go through it. I’ll be here for her regardless.” 

You had known your sister long enough to know that anytime she acted like this, you trying to talk to her would only push her further away and that’s not what you wanted to do. The only difference was you had never seen her go so...extreme before…

And the last thing you wanted was for Nanami to go off the deep end because of you and possibly...you shuddered at the idea, the possibilities were endless here in the Borderlands where there were no laws for people to abide by. 

Akari sighed as she took her hat off, fanning it over her face as she rubbed her head, “Hey, it’s not my place to tell ya what to do with your sister, all I’m saying is it may be beneficial to at least try.” She shrugged as she walked away making you groan. 

You could try again but you had a feeling it wouldn’t get you anywhere with her. It felt odd to think about, because one part of you felt like you had nothing but time now except for the constant loom of imminent death. You wouldn’t deny the fear that constantly set inside you at the idea of Nanami going into a game and never coming back. 

But what could you really do? Outside irritate her and push her to continue doing harmful things? You supposed, in some ways, you were a hypocrite, you were putting your life on the line for nothing other than out of wanting to break the cycle, to remember truly what it means to live, without it even being necessary. You wouldn’t blame her for being angry at you for that. 

“Hmm, I didn’t realize you actually let people dictate what you do in your free time, you’re a pretty big push over.” You slowly twisted in your seat to glare at Chishiya’s lounged out figure looking like a cat in the sun as he spoke in a sing-song tone. 

“...Do you ever shut up?” 

“Not particularly.” 

You clacked your tongue, huffing as you collapsed back in your chair, “Well what? You wanna do a game together? I just…” You held up your hands, looking at them as you scrunched your nose, “Feel like if I went with you, there’s a good chance you’d probably use me as bait or something and I’d end up getting killed.” 

“Wasn’t that your goal this morning?” Chishiya lifted his aviators as he turned to look at you from his laid out position, you squinted a little, crossing your arms once more as you leaned back in your seat.

“Well- yeah…” You fumbled before squinting even harder at Chishiya’s expression, “But now that you said it like that I have to not die out of pure spite, you didn’t answer my question by the way. I doubt you wanted to do a game with Hiroko anyways.” You rolled your eyes, still not understanding why Chishiya had such a distaste for her. 

Sure she was a little accusative and Hiroko obviously didn’t trust him, but could Chishiya, genuinely say that wasn’t for good reason? You had figured out that this man, if anything, was self aware of how he came across from an outside perspective. That was the part that baffled you, how could he blame someone for distrusting him? 

Even you distrusted Chishiya to a certain extent, and you had no problems letting him casually know such as now. Truly, you couldn’t rule out the possible idea of being used as bait in a game by him and not even realizing it. 

Honestly, given the environment you lived in, you could at least appreciate that he kept you on your toes. And you supposed that was the difference between you and Hiroko, she wanted to trust all of her friends. You weren’t so caught up in that. 

Because really, even in the outside world, before the Borderlands, friends could hardly be trusted fully. And those he believed in such, were always disappointed, friends lied, gossiped, went behind your back, slept with previous boyfriends. You hardly trusted anyone fully, in that sense, it wasn’t hard for you to just let go of some of Chishiya’s less then morally good behavior 

Chishiya only waved a hand, “If you think we’ll find someone more interesting than your dry friends.” 

“My dry friends,” You raised a brow as you twisted to look at his unbothered figure, “Act like you’re unassociated all you want but that doesn’t make you not part of the group. You are so weird. Anyways yeah sure, they just got word today that a new venue opened up at the bridge, we could go there.” 

“You’re still a pushover.” 

“What the fuck.” You replied deadpan as you stared him down, watching in annoyance at his sunglasses being put back on as he leaned back in his chair but the unmistakable cheshire smirk on his face as you rolled your eyes, “You're just asking to be torn apart.”

“So then why don’t you do it?” Chishiya challenged you casually, evening daring to lift his drink as he took a long sip before speaking up once more, “All you do is threaten people. How am I supposed to take you serious when you never follow through?”

“Last time I did it I made a man commit suicide.” You replied dryly, something in your tone lingering as you glanced out over the pool where everyone just pretended like they didn’t see people slaughtered night after night.

Escapism, was a very raw and primal way of coping with a shitty reality, you understood the concept well enough before the Borderlands, but ever since coming here, it became more and more apparent to you just how common it really was. What were you supposed to do with blood staining your hands.

Red caught your attention briefly as your eyes flickered to your hands that were clean as always. Staring down at them in wonder you couldn’t help but think, that some parts of you would never be the same after this. No amount of therapy or inner healing would bring you back to a time in your life where you hadn’t witnessed the atrocities you had. 

Some parts of you, were amazing at blocking out the Borderlands, taking the days you were alive for granted until the moment your heart was pounding and scared for your life, it was an addictive type of feeling in the most terrifying way. 

“It was hardly suicide,” Chishiya snorted, not at all perturbed like you were, you looked at him, staring into his figure that drew his attention as he raised a brow, looking unbothered, “You don’t feel the same? All human life is parasitic and is temporary, he would’ve died here anyways, it’s like you said, it doesn’t take much to break the weak link.” 

You smacked your lips together as you sighed, some parts of you not surprised at how much of a nihilist Chishiya was, “It doesn’t matter whether his life was baseless and humans are parasitic,” You looked away from him again as you muttered, “It doesn’t change the fact I was the one who manipulated someone into killing themselves.”

Staring down at your hands they trembled only if you looked close enough, briefly you could remember a broken bottle in your hands, sticky wet substance covering them and- “Doesn’t change the fact he would’ve died. It was us or him.” Chishiya shrugged, that snarky yet innocent look on his face as he spoke, “Maybe it’s you who needs therapy.” 

“Probably.” Your eyes traced down your fingers before sighing, running a hand through your hair, “If you’re gonna be a nihilist then I’ll see myself to the bar.” Chishiya waved a hand unbothered as you got up from your seat. 

If you ever escaped the Borderlands you were absolutely going to be the one at the sitting end of a therapy office instead of the listening side. 

----

“You’re a horrible driver.” Your nose was scrunched and you had a death grip on the side of the door of the car, you’d think for someone who was so analytical they’d be more careful. Chishiya? No, he was aggressive with sharp turns and fast pace making you hold on for dear life.

“I never got a license.” Chishiya replied in a sing song tune that you were beginning to find extremely annoying, that stupid smirk on his face as you opened the door the car, stepping out as you grabbed your neck. 

“You know,” You turned to face him now standing just before the bridge, “If I’m gonna die here-” Chishiya sighed exasperated as you held up a hand, “What is your fascination with wanting to die?-”  “No listen- I’m not saying I will but if,” You stressed the word, “If I die here, I really don’t want it to be from your shitty subpar driving skills.” 

Chishiya snorted, rolling his eyes as you both stepped past the platform to which you had been informed awhile ago that there really was no turning back from games, you had...subconsciously assumed that, never having even thought it would be possible to go back from a game, but it was just another stressful reality you’d have to navigate. 

You notice three other people who stood around all looking unsure of each other and you both included. You weren’t sure what type of game would be held on the bridge, there were plenty of cars still and you couldn’t help but wonder. 

“What if there’s only one survivor to this game? Is that a thing?” You leaned a little towards Chishiya who had stuffed his hands into his pocket, his eyes flickering to you as he raised a brow. 

“Does your brain only function on one memory at a time?” Your expression twisted somewhat indignant making an amused half smile curl on Chishiya’s face causing your childish anger to further as you crossed your arms, “Yes they exist, and for that matter I’ll just let you die since you’re so determined to let it happen prematurely-” “It will with the way you drive.” “Stop being so dramatic.” 

You puffed a breath as you shifted your weight, “No seriously, what if only one persons survives?” You asked, you hadn’t really thought about it truthfully, you had done games where it was possible but you supposed you had just been lucky, most games if not close to all, many could survive. Was that something you should be worried about. Chishiya only shrugged, not having an answer as you hummed. 

It was only six o’clock and the sun was beginning to set, was anyone else going to, “Oh jeez, this doesn’t look promising.” You turned to where someone stood having just arrived. Oh...oh wow, this woman was tall and attractive. It looked like a cigarette was hanging from her lips and she sported nothing but jeans and a bikini top. 

Your gaze flickered ahead where you frowned, “I really hate games with props.” You muttered, looking at the anklets that could be doubled as probation bands, seriously? Attaching it to your ankle you inspected that metal loop that dangled from the back, “Do you think they’ll blow our legs off if we move too fast?” 

“Doubt it,” The woman spoke up cut in between you both as she grabbed on, inspecting it as she scoffed, “Especially given what we’re doin’. Looks like we’re gonna get real cozy now.” 

You looked at the laptop that sat out as you tilted your head.

Game:

Difficulty: 5♠

“The game you will be participating in is, Seek and Destroy”

“That sounds...not fun.” Your nose wrinkled, it was a clubs game, meaning at least you could all work as a team to finish the objection, but...Seek and destroy? You briefly glanced at Chishiya but he remained expressionless, his full undivided attention on the screen. 

“In this game there are cars sectioned across the bridge and within five cars, bombs have been planted. One bomb will be activated at a time, you will have five minutes to find it and disarm it. Should you be in the vicinity of the car bomb by the time it goes off you have two choices, Game Over or Test Life.” Your brows furrowed as you listened carefully, “Cables are attached to the bridge, should you be near one you may attach your anklet to it and choose to jump off the bridge to safety.” 

“There are five car bombs all total, once the first bomb had been deactivated, the next will start. If you disarm all five, it’s a Game Clear, if you fail to disarm all five, it’s a Game Over.”

Rules

All players must remain on the bridge unless they choose to Test Life

You will have five minutes to plan your course of action, after the siren, the first bomb will be set

If all five bombs aren’t disarmed it’s a Game Over, the only exemption from this rule is if a Life Test is passed in trade.

If someone Tests Life and succeeds, they will make their way back to the bridge and return here as proof of success or it’s an automatic Game Over for them.

“Ha...ha! This should be easy!” A woman spoke up as she grabbed her head, “Guys! If we just chose to test life, we can all escape down, not break any rules and clear the game!” You heard a few others excitedly agree with her but you felt...unsure…

You glanced at Chishiya who remained stoic, the only other person who seemed to also not be sold was the woman next to you, who practically towered over you and looking up you only just realized her cigarette was fake, “You into women or something?” She winked causing you fumble a little as you stepped away, “I don’t judge.” 

“I’m into not dying,” You replied as you looked at the laptop, the countdown having already started, Chishiya only shrugged as he spoke up, “Could’ve fooled me.” You rolled your eyes at him, he seemed curious as he followed the other three. 

“It’s simple, I’ll just attach this and! Just look for some others!” She excitedly clipped the bungee cord to the metal hoop before she stood up on the ledge, lifting her arms as she breathed in a deep breath, “I’ll see you guys on the way down!” 

Your eyes were wide at her blind faith as she fell down, Chishiya peered down as everyone watched in baited breath, “It’s dumb to assume things would be that easy on a Spades game which is based around physical exertion, true bungee jumping matches the energy, but that would be too easy.” Chishiya spoke, shrugging as you glanced at him briefly before back at the woman who had finally hit the bottom of her cord, you had expected her to bounce but you gasped a little as she jerked before you could only assume her anklet broke and she smashed straight into the water.

She...she had to die from the impact with nothing to break the fall from here to there, “Just as I expected,” He sighed in exasperation, everyone turned to Chishiya who appeared only semi annoyed, “Anyone who believed a game value of five would be that easy is truly an idiot,” He offered a snide smile, “Just as I thought, Test Life is meant literally and meant to be a last resort, either you die by a car bomb or you take a chance with a possible faulty cord or band. The only way we clear a game without disarming all five bombs is if one goes off and someone chooses to test life and doesn’t die, it’s not only risky but stupid to rely on.” 

“Talk about cold,” The woman beside you spoke up, making Chishiya shrug loosely, “You couldn’t have said that five seconds sooner and we’d have a sixth player?” Her lip lifted a little in annoyance at Chishiya’s callous nature. 

Chishiya offered a cold smile, “A hypothesis without any evidence is just an assumption.” 

The woman had no words, probably taken aback at just how cold Chishiya was, you leaned in a little as you whispered, “You get used to it. Y/n,” You introduced yourself briefly with a weak smile, admittedly you had just accepted and gotten used to Chishiya’s nihilistic views. 

“Harsh,” She snorted, “Kuina. You two seem acquainted.” 

Your lips fell back into a grimace as you briefly looked at Chishiya who raised a brow at you, “Somehow...” You shook your head, truthfully, no matter how hard you tried to get away from this man, you always seemed to end up talking to him, or in situations like this with him, “So what’s the plan Spock?” You shrugged as you looked at Chishiya, half your time of planning already over. 

Chishiya didn’t reply at first and admittedly you wouldn’t consider him the embodiment of a leader, but you did think if anyone had a good calculation and strategy to go through this without messing up, it was him, “The rules stated nothing about having to disarm them in sequence, only that after the first was disarmed, a second would start and so forth.” 

You frowned at his words making him sigh in exasperation as he looked away from you, “Which means if we broke into pairs we can just search all the cars and disarm them all within a reasonable amount of time and least amount of panic. You know,” Chishiya sneered, “They’re being quite charitable for a 5.” 

“Okay great,” You sneered back in unappreciation giving back the same energy you were annoyed at being given at the moment, sure, you were dumb, you could admit it, and you had a feeling it really grated on Chishiya’s nerves that you in fact, did not consider it an insult in the least. You worked in the realms of irrationality of human nature, not the laws of logic like him. 

In some ways, you considered yourself a polar opposite of him sometimes, “I’m glad this is easy for you. Just tell us what we need to do, jerk.” 

Chishiya rolled his eyes at your expression, not surprised in the least at your attitude which he, just as always, ignored it, “There’s six of us- or was…” His lips curled into a menacing smirk, “There’ll be two pairs and one single person, one pair will go towards the back of the bridge and search the cars back to front, a bomb will most likely be placed in the hood of the car if the engines have been taken out or in the trunk. Another pair will search the beginning of the bridge starting from here and work their way towards the middle. Lastly the person by themselves will search the middle which won’t be as hard to go through alone.” 

“Alright, then I’ll pair up with the blonde twink, I have a few words to talk to him about.” Kuina shrugged, making Chishiya’s gaze snap over, his expression briefly looking confused for a second at her wording as she offered a sharp smile, “What? Are you intimidated?” 

Chishiya’s expression melted back into a cool tone, his gaze briefly looking over to you which you only observed the two, already getting the feeling you and Kuina were going to get along and hey, if you all survived this, you’d totally tell her about the Beach, “Hardly,” Chishiya snorted, “But in case you couldn’t tell I already have a partner.” You raised your brows looking around, wow, he was fast at deciding who would help him the most, “It’s you idiot.” 

“Oh,” Your lips parted a little, admittedly feeling a little dumb forgetting, but honestly, who could blame you? You just assumed Chishiya would pair with the person most beneficial to him, after a second your lips curled into a smile as you shrugged, “Oh?” You raised your brows a little making Chishiya’s expression go a little exasperated as your smile turned into a grin, “Oh I don’t mind!” You spoke, smiling at Kuina as you waved her over to him, “Have fun with him, he’s a real blast! I can partner with one of you if you’d like, I’m a go with the flow kinda person.” 

“I was a cross country runner! I can go by myself.” A girl, who looked like she was fresh out of highschool spoke as she volunteered herself, leaving you with only one partner, the male who...definitely looked like he could use a shower. He gave you a grimy smile which you weakly returned, “This just leaves us. I’m Daichi, and you m’lady?” 

You could hear a strained laughter from two people as you looked over your shoulder, harshly glaring laser beams out of your eyes at Chishiya who had pulled his hood up to try and pretend like he totally wasn’t smiling while stifling his laughter while Kuina was more then openly laughing at your obvious short straw hand here, but hey...You did forfeit your partnership with Chishiya out of spite, this was in some way...deserved. 

“Y/n. if everyone is sorted out, let’s take the far end of the bridge, it’s least likely they’d start the first bomb there right?” You looked towards Chishiya who shrugged, “What do we do about the bombs? I don’t exactly have any experience in the reams of demolition work.” 

“It’s possible, as for the bombs I doubt they have anything complex. It’s probably made of some akin to a battery pack. Just rip the wiring from the pack and not the bomb.” He replied making you cross your arms, an amused expression on his face as he answered.

“...And if it’s not that simple...?” 

“I guess we’ll find out.” He used that sing song tone you groaned at, unhelpful as always as you groaned, “Cheer up Y/n, it keeps things interesting.” What was his deal with things needing to be interesting...

“Well, let’s get going while we still have time,” You nodded to Daichi who nodded eagerly as you both began walking out onto the bridge, cars were scattered all across the bridge and this was admittedly going to take a lot of stamina to do, it was a Spades game, it was expected, but still.

You briefly felt uncomfortable, you could feel Daichi’s stares and he seemed like an okay guy but...Sometimes, more days than you wished, you could just feel a person’s energy and their intentions, Daichi was a perfect example of this. He was easy to read, from the way his eyes kept coping a feel at your body which wasn’t even in anything revealing besides the plain t-shirt you wore and sweatpants as per usual, “So Y/n, what were you before all of this.” 

Your eyes briefly glanced at Daichi before ahead again, “I worked as a barista at a coffee shop,” You answered with a neutral expression, not wanting to come across bitchy or too nice. 

Men in society, are told from a young age that so long as you’re nice, a good guy, doing the right thing, you’ll always get the girl. It twists the perception of reality for them, suddenly a women being nice is considered flirtation, a date to get to know one another will be rewarded with sex, there’s almost always a goal in mind when it comes to a Nice Guy. 

You don’t think Daichi is one of these men, you could tell by the way he fidgeted and he seemed to hesitate and drag his words out a little, he was too insecure to truly feel that type of superiority. But he had that energy of a guy, who felt these things internally and therefore, if provoked, would probably end up saying the exact same things. 

“Oh?” Daichi perked up a little, his smile was sincere if not a little awkward as his eyes lingered below your stomach, “Like at a maid cafe?” 

“Like at a coffee shop,” You repeated yourself, not being too nice but not too mean, just neutral as you internally sighed, maybe you should’ve stayed partners with Chishiya, you knew he was an ass, but at least he didn’t act like this, or most men for that matter. You could at least appreciate his authenticity even if he was hardly honest, “Uh, let’s just focus on disarming these car bombs.” 

You didn’t give Daichi a chance to reply as you heard the siren go off, breaking off into a sprint because you weren’t even halfway across the bridge yet. You needed to be to the end of the bridge within five minutes if the first bomb was there. Though the chances were low, they weren’t zero. 

You weren’t someone considered extreme fit but you did walk a lot and it seemed you made a lot better head way then Daichi as he was out of breath and had his hands on his knees as you arrived at the end of the bridge, the first car bomb had to be disarmed by now and it had taken a good few minutes to even get here, “Okay, let’s separate and start looking at cards, hoods first then trunks.” 

Daichi nodded, still out of breath as you started on the first car, popping the hood as you searched in before going to the trunk. Leaving it open so you wouldn’t confuse it later on as you had a lot of cars to go through. You hoped Chishiya and Kuina were at the very least, having better luck then you. 

…

“So I’m guessing you two have probably fucked.” Kuina clacked her tongue as she watched you in the distant sprinting off, in her opinion probably running away from that creep, not that she could blame you, it did give her a good laugh. 

Chishiya’s gaze remained neutral as he ignored Kuina’s comment. Tch, Chishiya made the exception of tolerating your idiocy purely because, to some degree, he’d admit, you were one of the few people he found interesting, he wasn’t sure he could do that for someone else who he wouldn’t consider as such, especially as self entitled as this woman, “I wouldn’t fuck someone like her. You aren’t good at reading people. Let's start searching and not waste time.” 

Kuina raised her hands up, flicking the wooden cigarette in her mouth as she shrugged, “Alright but you can’t fool me with those eyes. It’s clear you two got some chemistry,” She snorted at his lack of reply, “Anyways, what’s your deal?” She asked, furrowing her brows as they both separated, searching through the hoods before popping the trunks, “Bit cold to just let someone die like that.” She called out. 

“In case you’re inferior mind couldn’t tell,” Chishiya leaned against the back of the car as he smiled coldly, “We needed hard proof that Test Life was literal and not only this, but if this equipment is even stable. Which it isn’t, obviously.” Chishiya shrugged casually, “And we wouldn’t have known if someone dumb enough didn’t want to try,” He let out a sing song tone as he smiled in that false innocence of his, “I just consider it natural selection in the Borderlands.” 

Kuina grimaced a little, talk about borderline inhumane, “Oh look what we have here,” Chishiya looked delighted at the sight of the first bomb, it’s quiet tick ever impending to it’s explosion, Kuina quickly came over as she scratched her head, “So we know we’re supposed to disarm them, but we were never told how...Is it really as simple as you said?” She rolled her eyes. 

Chishiya snorted, “This is a basic homemade bomb, and surprise, surprise, it has a battery pack attached, it doesn’t take a genius to know to just pull the wiring and there won’t be any energy to dispense to the denotation.” And just like they, he yanked the wiring from the remote pack and the ticking stopped.

Kuina felt a breath of relief escape her, obviously not confident in his abilities and who could blame her? For as smart as Chishiya was, it was difficult to trust the man, nor would it be wise of anyone. 

“Great, glad we got a bomb expert on our side,” Kuina sighed, pushing her hands into her pockets before yelling out, “We got one!” As loud as she could, it echoed off the bridge and she was sure at least the highschooler heard her, “Anyways that’s boring. So you consider it natural selection huh- harsh. What ‘bout her then? Seems like you only wanted to be with her.” 

“What about her?” Chishiya, now annoyed, turned to Kuina, who was truthfully, only stirring the pot because she enjoyed getting under people’s skin, this blonde’s in particular, “We entered the game together? I guess?” He raised his brows, that dark, yet low innocent expression on his face as he spoke, “I’d assume it’s natural isn’t it? To stick to what one knows? But instead I’m stuck with you.” 

Kuina only offered a menacing smile in return, “In full glory,” She gestured down to herself proudly, “Listen- I’m only stating what I see, that and this is pretty amusing to listen too. It’s not often I get put in a game that isn’t high intensity.” Admittedly, while Kuina would never openly admit to it, Chishiya being here had definitely calmed things down a little, had it not been for his pure cut logic, things would probably be more hectic. 

“I got one!” Kuina looked up at the sound of the highschool girl screaming out, echoing distantly as Kuina curled her fists in victory, “Alright, just three to go, we’ll be done in no time.” Chishiya only looked over his shoulder, saying nothing as he continued searching through cars, “For someone so smart, you sure don’t look victorious.” 

“It’s foolish to assume victory during a battle,” Chishiya spoke, “At least that’s something Sun Tzu would’ve said, we only have two done in a field of cars. They were forgiving with the obvious rules but not so much in the size of the game. It’ll be a tight fit trying to find the last one within five minutes.” 

Kuina rubbed her head, that was true, she guessed, but she didn’t see it like that. The faster they looked and disabled these bombs, the quicker they could find others. It couldn’t be that difficult. 

“But we don’t know where they’re placed, it could be to our advantage that most of them are clumped togeth- Oh…” Kuina paused at the sight of a ticking bomb just inches away from her, apprehension in her face as she stepped away, she could fight with her fists any day of the week but a bomb? No thanks, “Disarm this so I don’t kill us on accident.” 

Chishiya looked smug as she rolled her eyes and with in moments he disarmed it as Kuina called out, the third one finished and only two left to go, if all went well just as planned, then they would have an easy night. 

“Whatever the case is, as long as nobody screws up this will be easy,” Chishiya’s lips twitched into a smirk as he spoke, “They’re pretty stupid to label this a five when it’s really a three.” He supposed, at least this was another build up on his visa which was extending more and more by the day. 

It wasn’t, that Chishiya was interested in death. No, it was quite the opposite, he was fascinated in why there was so much death, what was the reason? He hadn’t come up with a solid theory yet, but it was in the works. And furthermore, games and their mechanics were quite interesting, death being a punishment was only an added twist which was, admittedly beginning to get a little dull in his opinion. 

After all it was difficult to threaten someone with death when they had no fascination in life whatsoever, “Well, just a little more to go and we’ll be finished.” Kuina yawned out, admittedly ready to eat a hot boil of ramen after this before crashing. 

What neither of them expected was the loud booming echo of an explosion black smoke blooming the air both of them were taken a back as they ran to the side railing of the bridge attempting to look for where the explosion was, only to watch you being blasted off the railing straight off the bridge. 

This was not going as planned.

...

Three Minutes Earlier…

Searching through the car trunk you rubbed your head, you had heard some shouting earlier indicating that the highschool student had already found a bomb and you had heard previous yelling as well, twice, once before the highschool student, another just a minute ago. This game was going fast. You sighed as you shoved your hands into your pocket, it would be bullshit if there wasn’t a single bomb at the back of the bridge.

You supposed it would very fortunate but, you ran all the way here, for nothing if there wasn’t. 

Not to mention you and Daichi had gotten through quite a few cars in minimal time, he has just finished car and was making his way towards the edge of the bridge where on the last few cars of this little sliver were at, you admittedly, still had a long way too go.

You sighed walking over to a Mercedes which looked extremely expensive- maybe you could get someone from the Beach to fix it up…You groaned at the sound of heavy breathing, was Daichi trying to run again?

You peered over the hood of your car until to see him stiff as a board in front of a hood of a white Sudan. 

Sometimes, you can just tell, when something is wrong. Nothing needs to be said, or heard. This was one of those moments where you felt a deep pit in your stomach. You made your way over in a hurry only to head an impending tick and Daichi’s hands were on the bomb making you almost immediately back away, “Uhh...okay cool you found it…” Daichi’s hands trembled and his breath was heavy as you watched a bead of sweat drip down his neck.

 “Just uh...disarm it now.” You frowned a little, peering behind his shoulder to see the timer at was at a minute. Shit this must’ve been the next one activated, “Quickly.”

Daichi’s hands shook harder as he spoke hurriedly, “I...I don’t know how!” He freaked out sweat dripping off his chin as you backed away a little further, finding the edge of the bridge behind you and stepping on something.

“Just...do it like Chishiya said! Daichi we only have forty seconds!” You urged him, trying not to freak him out any further, “Ah here I’ll do it!”

“No!” Daichi screamed out, clutching it further as he spoke harshly, “If- if it’s moved it’ll explode!” He cried out, your heart rate was spiking and if he didn’t do anything you both were going to get killed, “Just rip off the wiring from the pack. Just like Chishiya said.” You shuffled a little, looking down only to see a cord piled up beneath your right foot. 

Swallowing you carefully walked closer to him as you offered a weak smile, “Listen to me,” Daichi trembled and shook as his gaze flickered between the bomb and you, “Just…” twenty seconds left, “Take the wiring and pull it out.” You urged gently.

“How do we even know if we can trust that guy!?” Daichi cried out, “He- he just let a woman die just to see if he was right! We can’t trust him!” Daichi screamed out as you tried to calm your wild heart rate. He needed to calm down and at least try, a try was better than letting the timer go off. 

“Chishiya is an expert with chemistry, science and medicine. If anyone knows how to disarm something I’d place my life on him.” That was a very bold claim you weren’t sure you’d actually put into practice but it was true. 

Ten seconds.

You fumbled backwards as Daichi hyperventilated, “He practically killed someone! If I do something! It’ll be by my own choice!” He screamed out making you jump as you fumbled to lean down, grabbing the metal hook as you attached it to the cuff of your anklet, but it was too late. Daichi ripped the wiring not from the pack, but the bomb. 

You don’t see it, you only see vivid hues of orange and red and blistering heat as the force of the explosion blew you right off the edge. The sky, truly was beautiful, even in your last moments. 

-

Note: If you guys would like to form a taglist, just let me know so you can keep up to date when I post a new chapter! Hope you enjoyed and let me know your thoughts!! :)

[jellyluchi]

idea! headcanons for prosciutto with, not his s/o, but more like a love interest that's a massive tsundere towards him. but like, more in the "will always prank/snark at him and be a general nuisance to him" way and even though they'd rather die than admit they like him, it's painfully obvious they have a crush on him

A/N: This is such a cute idea!! Especially for Pros, I love anyone who is a menace to him and makes his day worse than it already was ksjdsb

Prosciutto x reader who is a menace to him

— warnings: none — genre: fluff

First of all, who is this crush obvious to? Because it’s not going to be to Prosciutto. See when you make his life a living hell with all your little pranks what will he do? He’ll get angry. And nothing blinds this man more than anger.

The first time you snarked at him, he raised a perfect blond brow at your direction in surprise. Who were you to tell him what to do? He thought once that a death glare would put an end to it. Well obviously, he thought wrong because that’s when the pranks started

Prosciutto easily assumed the likes of Formaggio, Illuso, or even Melone could pull pranks like that but when you were outed as the culprit he was both surprised and pissed in equal amounts. He would expect this from others but you? That’s when you were put on his ‘menace team mate’ list along with the three others previously mentioned.

Your pranks did nothing but rile him up, your jokes and attempts humiliating him made it worse. He’d gathered he was your least favorite team mate because of this and you two were prone to quite a few arguments. To the others, because your crush is oh so obvious to them, it was free entertainment as Prosciutto just couldn’t figure out why you were such a menace in the first place.

In the middle of all your shenanigans, something changed within him. He began to get flustered by some of your remarks. it usually went like “you should be addicted to shutting the fuck up!” “you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid” which always gets him beet red and the rest of the team to start howling with laughter as he tried to explain that no, he didn’t want to do that.

See, sometimes this man gets too much credit. Contrary to popular belief, he can be completely dense sometimes. He was so distracted by the little inconveniences of your pranks and the irritation from your words, he missed the glint in your eyes, the satisfaction of getting a reaction out of him. He never knew the time and effort you took to plan out such pranks while everyone else shook their heads and told you to just confess already!

But of course, you weren’t going to do that, you’d sooner swallow a nail before making it clear to him. This is why a confession is more prone in the middle of a heated argument.

You pulled a prank on him during  a mission, sabotaging the plan, compromising the target and losing dear Pros even more sleep. He’d had it with your silly antics and when you accidentally blurt out your feelings to him, it’d be completely out of left field. Everything shifts into perspective for him, realizing all your witty attacks were an attempt at flirting (in your own way) and he had to admit it, you really had him in the first half. 

Safe to say, once your feelings are clear, Prosciutto is so totally going to advantage of your denial and get revenge by flustering you to bits about your silly little crush on him before he bites the bullet and finally asks you out formally.

Safe to say, you and Prosciutto would be an entertaining couple once together since your quarrels don’t stop but neither do your pranks, especially when he starts to prank you back. 

[ahkaahshi]

exploration [sakusa kiyoomi x reader]

pairing: sakusa kiyoomi x fem reader

genre: smut (18+)

warning(s): explicit sexual content, penetrative sex, light degradation, dirty talk, mean-ish?? then nice dom sakusa, rough sex, orgasm denial, being stimulated in public, swearing

word count: 2.9k

overview: you wanna try new things. some of them work and some of them don’t, but it’s all a learning experience.

notes: yall my heart just went 🥺 soft sakusa 🥺 yet again (I'm rlly weak for him obviously I have no issue admitting it) but I wanted to give him a lil edge too ya feel? I rlly banged this out with my last two braincells so I hope you enjoy :)

As you wander around the large, open space in the elegant, modern art museum, heels clicking against the cold, concrete floor, your (e/c) eyes drift from one painting to the next. The steady, gentle rhythm of some, ethereal lounge music echoes around the room just under the hum of conversations taking place nearby. Though they’re speaking of things mostly foreign to you, since they’re members of a much higher society than that in which you live, you can’t help but find yourself somewhat entertained by the gossip you hear circulating amongst the women as they chat over a few too many cocktails.

Spending the evening perusing expensive artwork in such a luxurious venue, wearing a dress you hope looks fancy enough while you rub shoulders with the elite is definitely not a normal occasion in your day to day life. However, with your boyfriend’s constantly climbing popularity as a professional athlete, his name was starting to show up on more of the guest lists to exclusive events such as this exclusive art showcase you find yourself at now. While it’s interesting--to an extent--you do find yourself growing bored from time to time. Earlier, your beloved’s teammates had been around to entertain you, but they’d since left to help themselves to the open bar.

Not even moments after you let out a soft sigh and readjust the strap of your dress on your shoulder, you feel a familiar vibration emanate from deep inside of you. The intensity and location of the sensation make one hand fly to your mouth to stifle a small squeal that escapes your throat while the other grips the chiffon of your dress’s skirt. Turning away from the few gazes that have fastened on you at your reaction to what seems like absolutely nothing, you look through the doorway into the next room to see your boyfriend watching you with rapt attention.

His hand is buried in the pocket of his sleek, black trousers, thumb resting atop the button of the remote he’s using to make the vibrator nestled inside of you jump to life. With the way he’s been using your desire to do more exploration in terms of kinks and sexual fantasies to keep you on the brink of an orgasm all night long, you’re starting to regret suggesting the idea of a bullet vibrator earlier today. By this point, your panties are uncomfortably wet and you’re on the verge of getting on your knees in front of the event’s other patrons and begging him to fuck you.

You’ve been holding yourself together the entire evening, even keeping your drink from spilling when he decided to turn it on right as the bartender handed it off to you, but you’ve had enough now. You figure you’ve been good enough for him to reward you, since you haven’t complained once or let on to the dirty game the two of you were playing to see who caved first and asked to go home. You don’t mind letting him win this round, since you know you’ll get what you want either way.

As nonchalantly as you can when your core is abuzz with stimulation and your stomach is clenching from the sensation, you make quick strides across the room to where he’s standing. He seems to sense what you’re about to ask him, so he turns off the vibrator and places his hand on the small of your back when you arrive at his side.

“Kiyoomi,” you whine softly, running your fingertips along the soft material of his crisp, button-up shirt he’s wearing beneath a suit jacket.

He raises a dark eyebrow at you and hums questioningly in response, waiting for you to admit defeat.

As much as you don’t want to say it, in this case, you’ll have to put your pride aside to get what you want. Reminding yourself that you’ll find a way to have your fun with him in return at a later point in time gives you some comfort as you move your head closer to his ear.

“Can we go home, baby?” you ask in a demure tone.

“Hmm? Why would you want to do that, (f/n)?” he wonders, his hand remaining annoyingly still where it rests against the back of your dress.

You refrain from letting out a sound of disapproval at his coy attitude, since you know anything you say can and will be held against you in the bedroom in this game you’re playing. Instead, you whisper, “So you can take this tiny, little thing out of me and stuff me with your big cock instead.”

That does it. His fingers grip your waist on their way to meet yours so he can interlace them and lead you back to the entrance of the museum. His teammates urge him to stay and have a few drinks with them, but he’s quick to wave them off and make a hasty exit.

When Bokuto tries to follow the two of you to persuade you to stay, Atsumu grabs his arm and puts his attempt to a halt by hissing, “The man's on a mission ta get fucked, dude. Let ‘im go.”

To that, the tall, white and black-haired man whistles lowly, nods, and heads back to the bar with his teammate for another shot.

You and Sakusa are quick to locate his car, and he unlocks it with a chirp so you can both slide into your respective seats. Before fastening your seatbelt, you lean over towards him to steal a few, long-awaited kisses from his lips that he returns with fervor, giving you a glimpse of the impatience that had apparently been dwelling within him all night long. When you run your hand over the bulge in his pants, though, he’s quick to retreat from your affection and stick his key in the ignition.

“Omi,” you cry softly, brows furrowing and lower lip protruding with dismay. With the way your core is on fire at the moment, you want nothing more than for him to at least give you some relief in the car. The fifteen minutes it’ll take for you to get home are going to be painstaking at this rate.

His dark eyes flick over to you, narrowed ever so slightly with irritation as he responds, “Being a brat isn’t going to get you what you want.” The two of you lock eyes for a long moment in a silent battle for dominance before you relent, sit back, and buckle in your seatbelt. “Good girl.”

Your body warms at the praise, and grows even hotter when he slides his hand over onto your thigh after reversing out of the parking spot and shifting back into drive. His focus doesn’t leave the street ahead as his fingers find the slit in your skirt and navigate the short stretch of skin between its peak and your valley. Instinctively, you grasp his wrist to guide him closer to your underwear, but he stops.

“Don’t touch me while I'm driving, princess,” is the firm command he utters that makes you release your grip, “You’ll distract me.”

Your fingers dig into the smooth, leather seats as you try your best to restrain yourself, but each stoplight you hit makes you squeeze your thighs together with impatience, trapping his hand between your supple skin. Since he can see how desperate you are, he prods at your clit through your soaked panties, eliciting a gentle moan from you. With the way you've been waiting for him to touch you all night, anything you can get from him feels amazing.

Though he’s being silent, he’s trying his best to contain himself at hearing the pretty sounds slipping out of your mouth and feeling how wet you are. He didn’t realize quite how worked up you were until now.

“Baby, I want more,” you utter after no more than just a few, short minutes of toying with your sensitive bundle of nerves.

He scoffs, “I’m not giving you more. Can't have my leather seats getting ruined by you making a mess when you cum, dirty girl.”

You clench around the slim vibrator at his words and groan when he withdraws his fingers from between your legs. Thankfully, you can see your neighborhood come into view, and he's parking outside your house before you know it. Anticipation sends another painful throb through your walls as you unbuckle your seatbelt, dart out of the car, and hurry towards the front door.

Sakusa seems to be in less of a rush, though, since he takes his time opening the door, removing his shoes, and loosening the tie around his throat. Your tugging at his arm to lead him towards the bedroom only earns you a warning glance, so you wait a few, painfully long seconds for him to finish what he’s doing. Your patience is quickly rewarded, though, when he guides you into the room, yanks down the zipper on your dress, and pushes you onto the bed.

His lips crash against yours as you sling your arms over his shoulders to bring his body down towards yours. Each of his kisses are deep, passionate, and add more fuel to the fire that’s been burning between your legs. Feeling needier than ever, you hastily undo the buttons on his shirt while he unclasps your bra and rids you of your panties in a flash. He swallows the loud moan you release when his fingers slide into your weeping pussy to retrieve the vibrator that’s been lodged inside of you the entire night.

Your hips buck against his fingers as they slide out of you, removing the small device and tossing it aside, so he allows you a sliver of relief by rubbing his fingers coated in your essence against your clit. He watches your expressions of pleasure and the way your muscles twitch as you chase the high you’ve been after all night. The sight of you with your face flushed and eyelids squeezed shut as your lips part to utter more delightful sounds of pleasure makes his erection throb painfully in his pants.

“You poor thing,” he coos, removing his fingers from between your legs, “So desperate to get fucked. Take my pants off and I'll let you cum on my cock since you’ve been a good girl all night, but not until I say so.”

In your hazy state of mind, you reach for his belt, unbuckle it, and set to work undoing his pants. He slides his shirt off before discarding his trousers and littering your neck with more kisses as he slowly inches closer to you. You exhale breathily when you feel him slide the head of his dick from your clit down to your entrance, teasing you by remaining just outside.

“Kiyoomi!” you complain in a moment of sexual frustration, “I don’t wanna wait anymore.”

To this he responds harshly, “Quit whining like a little brat or else I'll fuck your mouth instead so I don’t have to listen to you.”

He sees a look of shock pass over your features like a dark storm cloud drifting in front of the sun, and he worries for an instant that he’s overstepped a boundary. But, to his relief, you rest your head back against the soft covers and breathe, “I'm sorry, baby.”

“That’s my good girl,” he praises in a much gentler tone and places a peck against your sternum before lifting your hips up towards his.

A drawn-out moan spills out of your mouth as he pushes his cock inside of you, giving you the sensation of being full that you’ve so desperately been craving all evening. His gaze remains on yours, and you watch the subtle crinkle of his nose and twitch of the moles above his eyebrow that always accompany a low groan of satisfaction during moments like these. After he’s bottomed out, he allows you a moment to breathe before he begins thrusting into you rather roughly.

Any words you want to say you’re unable to form as he indulges your tight pussy, spreading your legs further with his hand so he can reach deeper and deeper inside you with each snap of his hips against yours. “Well?” he goads, his hot breath fanning across your neck and ear when he moves his head there so he can latch onto your tender skin with his teeth, “Let me hear you, baby. Now.”

You mewl loudly at the sensation of him sucking on your neck in combination with his cock hitting your cervix, sending small jolts of pleasure skittering across your skin like electricity. “Faster, please!” you manage to squeak as your hands move onto his back, fingertips pressing into his muscles, which ripple with every thrust inside of you. His skin feels unbearably hot against yours, causing beads of sweat to form on your bodies.

He obliges your request and picks up his pace until all you’re able to do is let your head roll back and moan unintelligible words while he attacks the sensitive skin on your throat. Every grunt he utters sends tingles down your spine, and you can hear his breathing become more labored whenever he starts succumbing to the satisfaction he’s reaping from being sheathed in your velvety walls while they clench deliciously around him.

Following a particularly rough thrust that nearly has you seeing stars, he mentions, “You were being so expressive about your desires earlier, princess, but you can’t even speak now? Nothing shuts you up quite like having my cock deep in your pussy, huh?” You nod in agreement, since you’re not able to form any coherent words as you rock your body against his.

After a few minutes, you feel the pressure you’ve been holding in your stomach all night long threaten to loosen up, and you whimper, since you’re right on the edge of the orgasm you’ve been waiting too long to experience. Sakusa notices the anguish etched into your features when he takes a pause from decorating your neck with love bites, and rubs your clit with precise movements, targeting your most sensitive spot.

“Cum for me like the good girl you are, princess.”

His husky command pushes you over the edge, and you cry out with ecstasy as you pull him closer to you and buck your hips against him feverishly. The feeling of your pussy pulsating around him bring him to his orgasm faster than expected, and a stream of curse words and praises fall from his mouth onto your ears. He knows you’re on birth control, so he finishes while nestled deep within your core, painting your walls with his release.

The sensation isn't one you’re used to feeling, since he often opts to pull out anyway, but you enjoy coming down from your high while he’s still inside you. Feeling that you’re still connected in the vulnerable moments that follow your sex sessions brings you a sense of comfort you didn’t know you’d been craving.

Once you’ve had some time to regain your breath, he withdraws from you and presses a gentle kiss against your lips. “How was that?” he asks as he lays down beside you and grabs a few tissues to clean up the fluids seeping out of you, onto the duvet.

“Great,” you hum softly, “I enjoyed it. How did it feel for you?”

A look of concern crosses his features as he discards the used tissues in a nearby trashcan. When he turns back to face you, he brushes a few strands of hair away from your eyes and comments, “I’d prefer not to treat you like that.”

“Baby, I know how much you care about me. You’re not hurting my feelings; it’s just roleplaying.” A short pause in your conversation ensues as he contemplates your words while you run your fingers along his neck and jaw. “Would you be open to trying it again, maybe, or was it just not for you?”

“I just don’t feel comfortable speaking to you in that way. I didn’t like calling you a dirty girl or saying that I was gonna fuck your mouth. Seeing your face when I said that nearly made me stop.”

Upon noticing the uncertainty flickering in his dark gaze, you gently coax him to bring his face closer to yours by lightly pressing your fingers against the back of his neck. You then close the gap between your lips once more with a long kiss that you hope communicates to him at least a sliver of the immense amount of love you have for him. His hand cups the side of your face when you pull away, making you smile.

“It’s okay. We won’t do it again if it makes you uncomfortable,” you reassure him, “But will you call me a good girl and take control like that more often? I think I enjoyed that part the most.”

He nods, sending a ripple through the dark sea of waves atop his head, and presses another kiss to your forehead. 

“I love you, Kiyoomi,” you utter when he pulls away.

“I love you too, (f/n). Let’s go in the shower now.”

You let out a low murmur of disagreement and pull him closer to you so that his warm body's hovering over yours once more. Giving him a playful tug on his lower lip with your teeth, you mention, “You made me wait too long tonight for one time to be enough, baby.”

masterlist

dedications: this work is dedicated to the lovely @ohbyunhunn​ :) I hope you enjoy since you were havin a rough day ❤️ thanks for listening to all my whack ideas n supporting me anyway bb 😌

[fuckyeahisawthat]

Have you been asked yet to rank Trust eps? Cos I'm asking! But your the criteria for ranking I leave to you to decide.

Ahahahaha I’ll have you know I put way too much thought into this. :-D

Ok so first of all, there is no such thing as a bad episode of Trust. The whole thing is really tightly written, every character and plot thread has a purpose, and even the episodes that I haven’t watched over and over again are important to the overall story. And a lot of the impact of the show comes from things that are cumulative over multiple episodes.

That being said, I do have favorites. Since the definitive ranking of Primo’s outfits has already been taken care of, here is my ranking from least to most favorite based on some nebulous criteria of artistic/narrative effectiveness and emotional impact, my judgement of which is obviously highly subjective and also correct.

Under the cut because this got ummm unbelievably, ridiculously long.

10. The House of Getty (episode 1)

Sorry Danny Boyle and Simon Beaufoy, the pilot is my least favorite episode. Still think it was the wrong choice to open with a flashy (and, I can tell, expensive) sequence showcasing the death of a character we literally never see again. And, look, I’m an impatient viewer. If I don’t get someone to root for/emotionally identify with/otherwise catch my interest early on in a narrative, I’ll tune out. And Old Paul is not only unlikeable--far from a mortal sin in dramatic storytelling--he’s boring. I don’t care about any of his rich people problems, and I’m not the kind of viewer who can be kept engaged just by hating someone and watching them be terrible.

Some of the secondary characters in the Getty household do have interesting plotlines, but we don’t get to learn very much about them in the first episode. And I do think things get interesting once Little Paul shows up (although I maintain that the whole episode is more interesting if we understand what the stakes are for Paul getting the money), but if I had started watching this show with no context I wouldn’t have made it past Old Paul’s pre-coital erotica listening routine.

If this had been anything other than the first episode I might not have ranked it last, but extra penalty points for leading with your least interesting characters.

9. Lone Star (episode 2)

This episode is, I think, saddled by the fact that it has to do a lot of heavy lifting in terms of exposition and setup. It mostly works because Chace is an entertaining narrator, and once we get to Italy with Gail I think things zip along at a pretty good pace. Opens with an attempted rape to show how Bad the Bad Guys are, which is...not my favorite trope.

Once again, I think a lot of the information in this episode would have worked better if episode 3 had been episode 1. (We’d already know who Berto was when Chace meets him; we’d already know about the box of guns in the apartment; we’d know when certain characters are lying.) This whole show runs on the suspense of the audience being the only party who knows what’s going on with all the characters at once; I think trading mystery for suspense here was the wrong move. I also can’t help thinking there was pressure to front-load the well-known American actors in the beginning of the show at the expense of the strongest narrative choices.

Imo the best thing about this episode is the sort of...multiple competing images of Paul that emerge. His mom sees him as an innocent victim who couldn’t possibly have planned any of this. Chace sees him as a spoiled rich kid trying to swindle his granddad. Neither one of them has the complete truth.

Next we get into some episodes that are certainly not bad, but their greatness is more on the level of some bangin’ individual scenes than a whole package.

8. John, Chapter 11 (episode 6)

Again, this isn’t a bad episode. The main reason I put it near the end of the list is that the first time through I got sort of impatient during the first half. We, the audience, by virtue of our extra-textual knowledge, know that Paul can’t be dead, and we spend about half the episode before we know what really happened to him, which felt a bit too long to me.

This episode does have some fantastic individual scenes including: Leo talking Primo down in the farmhouse, Leo and Paul’s conversation about Angelo’s death, Gail being an absolute badass, and the meeting between Salvatore and Old Paul. A lot of these scenes are essential on a thematic level, but I don’t think the episode as a whole is the most streamlined.

7. Consequences (episode 10)

I debated for a while where to put this episode because the overall feeling of 57 Chekov’s guns going off in the space of one episode is SO satisfying, and the resolutions of some of the individual plotlines are delicious. Ultimately I would have liked more space for Paul and Gail and less Old Paul being grumpy about his substitute child museum’s mediocrity (although the scene with the bad reviews is hilarious). Once again I feel like the show creators felt they had to pull the focus back to Old Paul to wrap things up and I just. don’t care.

That being said. The resolution of Primo’s storyline? SO SATISFYING. And tbh I don’t dislike the scenes that exist with Paul and Gail; even the happy scenes have this poignant tone to them. I think they were trying to deal with the fact that his irl story is just...incredibly fucking tragic, and you can see a bit of the strain showing.

6. Kodachrome (episode 7)

I know episode 7 is not one of your personal favorites, but it’s the one where I think jumping between multiple plotlines/sets of characters is used to the most satisfying dramatic effect. It has this sense of dramatic irony that feels like some Shakespearean family tragedy. The whole episode, we are hoping that Paul Jr. will finally do the thing we want him to do, which is stand up to his father. And he does it--but at the absolute worst, most selfish and destructive moment possible.

Paul Jr. may be the literal worst, but I do have compassion for him in the flashbacks, mostly because it seems painfully apparent that no matter what he does, he will never be able to please his father. But he doesn’t seem to realize this, and he keeps trying, even as it’s destroying him and his relationship with his family. Credit to Michael Esper for his performance for making me feel a smidgen of compassion for this bastard.

I think the other thing this episode shows is how both of Paul’s parents keep putting him, a child, into roles and circumstances that he shouldn’t really be in. He’s wandering around through what seem like very much adult environments with his dad and Talitha in Morocco. In the Trust version of events he’s there when Talitha ODs and is the one trying to revive her while his dad is having a breakdown in the corner. Gail seems like the more responsible parent but there’s something about her bringing Paul as her “date” on a night out, and the understanding that this is a thing that happens regularly...to me the disturbing part is not so much bringing a young kid to a party with adults but the unspoken expectation that Little Paul will fill the void of companionship that his father has left empty. (Gettys expecting Little Paul to step in to cover for the failings of his father is a repeated theme, and it even plays into the ear thing. His family has failed to pay the ransom, so this is now a problem he has to solve himself.) Combine this all with Leonardo going, um, excuse me but what the actual fuck is wrong with your family? and I think it makes a very effective episode. And the last couple minutes had me yelling NOOOOOOOO GODDAMMIT because you can see what’s going to happen and you’re just watching it unfolding like a car wreck. Also has one of my hands-down favorite scenes, of Paul and Primo in the car waiting for the ransom.

5. White Car in a Snowstorm (episode 9)

The ~ D R A M A !!! ~ This episode is an opera. I mean this whole show is dramatique but episode 9 really leans into the vivid imagery--that snowy highway in the mountains above the sea, the all-white ransom exchange, Paul clinging to the pole at the shuttered Getty gas station, some Very Serious Mobsters throwing the ransom money around like idiots in a moment where you’re encouraged to be happy along with them.

This is also one of my favorite episodes for Primo and for Primo and Paul’s weird sometimes-alliance. Primo walking away from Salvatore to go tell Paul “they always pay in the end”? Primo and Paul teaming up to argue with Salvatore about why Paul shouldn’t die? Primo being all threateny to the doctor treating Paul because somewhere deep down he is worried (that’s my take and you’ll never convince me otherwise)? Primo dressing up to fake-scab on a postal strike in order to find a misplaced severed ear? All gold.

Fun fact: the letter Gail writes to President Nixon did happen in real life, but as far as I can tell the phone call did not. The real details of who convinced Old Paul to finally pay (some) of the ransom are considerably less cinematic. They’re the same amount of sexist though!

Ok now we are getting to the top tier...

4. That’s All Folks! (episode 4)

This is definitely the episode that took me from “ok this is fun” to “oh holy shit I’m invested now.” It’s the episode where we get introduced to most of the Calabrian characters and their world. It’s also the episode where we start to realize that Primo is not just a fun antagonist but is really a parallel protagonist to Little Paul, with his own set of relationships and motivations that we start to see from his POV. (I’d argue that, with the exception of his very first scene, we’ve mostly seen Primo through other characters’ gaze up until episode 4, and this is the point where we start watching him as like, the character whose pursuit of a goal we’re following over the course of the scene.)

This episode ranks high for capturing so much of the weird mix of tones that makes Trust work. It can be very funny. (I never fail to fuckin lose it when Fifty is on the phone with Gail the first time and when he’s talking to the thoroughly unimpressed newspaper switchboard operator.) It has this weird unexpected intimacy between characters you wouldn’t think would connect with each other. (Primo and Paul, Paul and Angelo; in retrospect the arc of the relationship between Primo and Leo gets started in that scene in Salvatore’s kitchen.) And it has one of the show’s absolute best record-scratch tone shifts when Primo gets the ransom offer. I remember saying “oh FUCK” out loud the first time I watched the end of that episode, when Primo comes back to the house, visibly drunk and clearly furious. We’ve seen him be violent plenty before now in the show, but always in a controlled, calculated way. This is the first time we see his potential for out-of-control rage-fueled violence and he’s terrifying!

3. La Dolce Vita (episode 3)

I stand by my claim that this episode (with a few minor continuity adjustments) should have been the pilot. Can you imagine a title card that’s like “Rome 1973” and then away we go with Paul snorting coke and taking racy photos and jumping on cops and fucking his girlfriend in what is definitely not proper museum etiquette, and then the smash cut to Primo intimidating and robbing and murdering people? And that’s the opening of the whole show? And you’re like how are these characters connected and then they meet each other and it’s the fucking sunflower field scene??

Anyway aside from the fact that I think knowing the information in this episode would have made episodes 1 and 2 more interesting...it’s just a great fucking episode. It’s kinetic and propulsive and funny and tense and violent and features Primo’s sniper skills and his ass in those cornflower blue trousers. I rest my case.

2. Silenzio (episode 5)

I’ll be honest, I went back and forth on the top two a bunch. Silenzio is definitely my personal favorite episode, and I’d argue that it’s the best written, in terms of what it accomplishes narratively, which is to keep you emotionally invested in both Paul and Angelo trying to escape with their lives, and Primo and Leonardo hunting them down. That’s so fucking hard!! And yes some of it is great acting but it starts from the foundation of the writing. It’s just such a perfect little self-contained horror movie, and it has this profound sense of fatalism to it, because you know from the beginning (if only by virtue of only being halfway through the series) that Paul is not going to escape, and you sort of know that there is only one way this will end for Angelo. And yet they escape by the skin of their teeth so! many! times!

It’s also the episode where you see how much power the ‘Ndrangheta has over people’s lives in this community: Salvatore is like God, calling his servants to him with the church bells. Combine that with the visuals of two characters running for their lives mostly on foot through this unforgiving landscape, and you really get the sense of this environment as a harsh place where most people have a very constrained set of choices, and the claustrophobia of that. You get the sense in this episode that everyone is trapped in these expectations of violence and duty and honor. Angelo did what anyone with compassion would do, and saved Paul from what seemed like certain death, and he’s doomed for it. At the same time Primo is doing exactly what anyone would expect him to do in response to a subordinate who disobeyed him. In some ways the end of the episode feels inevitable, unsurprising, and yet they do SUCH a good job of winding up the tension until the literal last seconds of the episode, and then releasing it with a big dramatic bang. It’s so good!!

1. In the Name of the Father (episode 8)

Ok I’ll be honest the ONLY reason In the Name of the Father edged out Silenzio for the top spot is that it is really clear they pulled out all the stops in terms of making this episode feel extra heightened in a show where everything is already heightened. Like, the cinematography is different? They still use handheld a lot but I swear there are more still shots and more extreme, editorial camera angles like that shot of Francesco looking upward in church where the camera is looking down from above him. I can’t tell if they actually tweaked the color grading or if the bright white and blood red just stand out against the Calabrian color palette which is mostly earth tones, browns and greens and blues.

There are just. So many layers to this episode. The imagery! The literal sacrificial lamb at the beginning, Francesco being guided by Leonardo through an act of violence against an animal, something that I’m sure they don’t even see as violence but just part of farm life, part of survival and in this case part of a celebration, but something that fathers teach their sons how to do as part of becoming a man in this world. Paul as the metaphorical sacrificial lamb later, drawing parallels to Jesus (the lamb of God), Isaac (a father sacrificing his son), any number of martyred saints, pick your Catholic imagery. The blood of the lamb on the tree stump and Paul’s blood on the stone. The communion wafer (the body and blood of Christ) and Francesco at the end with Paul’s blood and a literal piece of his body held in his hands the same way.

And then there is like, the suspense of watching everyone marking time through the steps of this community ritual that’s supposed to be a joyful, communal celebration, while we know that there is a secret ticking away under the surface. The slow unfolding of the lie told to one person spreading to everyone in the village, and then the knowledge that Salvatore knows spreading to all the people who’ll be in trouble for that. The relationship arcs between the main Calabrian characters...not resolving, but sliding into place for the final act. Primo finally being done with Salvatore. Primo and Leo’s alliance being cemented and Leo physically stepping between Primo and Salvatore, to protect Primo. (No one ever protects Primo!! Still not over it!!!!) The confirmation celebration as a mirror of the Getty party in episode 1, the parallels drawn between the 3 Pauls and Salvatore-Primo-Francesco and how Primo reacts to being passed over as heir vs. how Paul Jr. reacts. Little Paul having two whole minutes of screen time and managing to break your heart with them. Regina! Just...Regina’s whole everything. The music going all-instrumental for an episode and having this haunting, dreamlike but still tense quality to it. And the fact that we never cut away from Calabria to another plotline gives the whole episode this hypnotic, all-encompassing quality. It’s just. SO GOOD!!!!

[redhawtriot]

Baby Boom (Bakugou x Reader)

Tip Jar ☕- Not expected but always appreciated💞

If you’re interested in the secret life of models or baby momma drama, you’re well fed tonight. 

This story actually means a lot to me bc it deals with a lot of issues that I hold very dear (I stayed up last night and wrote like three chapters lol). That being said, the content may be a little triggering to some people: (eating disorders, slight alcoholism, pregnancy, discrimination, overall angst) 

There is also a slight mention of nsfw (she’s gotta get pregnant somehow) to begin with but besides that, it should be pretty safe

Reader discretion is advised.

HnM 💕

Month 2, Month 3

--MONTH 1--

“Mmmm…” 

The dazed hum of your own low voice peeled back a layer of sleep from your mind.

The cloud of blankets underneath you swallowed your body, tempting your stirring form to stay asleep for just a little longer. As your mind teetered upon the steep edge of unconsciousness, a flurry of scenes played in your head.

You let yourself fall into the random, vivid dreams as you finally gave up in your struggle against the warm embrace of the bed. The film that performed in your mind was a choppy one at best; however, you still caught glimpses of the action:

The dark room... The dancing city lights outside of the window… the low screeching of the rocking mattress underneath you… the breathless moans… looking down to see the mingling of scorching sweat, illuminated by the red light peeking through the window… looking up to see the flash of his even redder, vermilion eyes for just a split second before your lips were captured… the lewd mewls that you didn’t even notice until they were gone, caught in his warm mouth.

The quick, dreamy waves of erotica left just as soon as they came, their sudden disappearance sending a jolt of consciousness your direction.

What. A fucking. Wakeup call.

The bed once again flutily attempted to grab you and hold you back in your sleeping state, but you forced yourself to roll over into awareness. As your body turned, your eyes finally painfully pried themselves open. Once the brief sting of light passed, you found yourself smirking at what you saw,

Holy shit. Dreams do come true after all.

The man in bed with you—you finally realized that it was indeed his bed—was turned over on his side facing away from you, but that didn’t stop you from admiring the view.

His arms, godsent and chiseled by Michelangelo himself, extended from under the blanket-- one used as an extra pillow under his head, and the other laid peacefully on his side. As peaceful as the display was, you could still see the rippling muscles layered underneath his airbrushed skin. You could only begin to imagine what they looked like when he was flexing.

Suddenly images from last night of his strong arms pressing your legs up toward the headboard infiltrated your mind, and you didn’t have to imagine anything anymore. You bit the bottom of your lip to keep from giggling like a schoolgirl with a crush.

Virtually immediately, your smile melted from your face and the sound of tires screeching blared within your head. What the fuck were you doing staring at this dude like some damn creep? What? Were you gonna wait for him to wake up to invite you to breakfast? Were you gonna go on a lunch date with some no-named dude you met at the “booty room.” As if.

God, ew.

You tried to ignore the fact that you had just been reduced to a soppy 16 year old all over again.

You gave one more passing glance over the top of his ash-blond hair before straightening your face with a with a quirk of an eyebrow and slowly pushing yourself out of his bed. You glanced out of the window and noticed only a thin stream of light peeking through the glass. Good. It was still early morning. Plenty of time to make it to work.

You would like to avoid Ainu’s bitching mouth today.

You fluffed your hair up, deciding to adopt the “after-sex hair” and make it your own as you scoured the bedroom floor for your dress from last night. You spotted it just a foot away from the door. Damn you really didn’t waste time, huh?

You fought the urge to laugh at yourself as you walked over and shimmied yourself back into the dress, some of the sparkles flying off as you shook your hips. You had found your panties just right next to the bed and your bra hanging off the lamp on the nightstand. You stifled a laugh at yourself as you slid the items on underneath your dress. What a fucking night.

Mostly everything at that point had been accounted for, but there was still one thing on your mental checklist that you couldn’t find—well, two things to be exact.

Okay…

Shoes... shoes… Where the fuck are your shoes?

As you continued searching for the shimmery heels, a sudden deep groan from the bed startled you a bit, causing you to freeze as you watched ‘good ol’ no-name’ stir in his sleep. You paused for a few long moments while he, thankfully, settled back into his slumber.

You let out a quiet breath of air that you hadn’t even known that you were holding and decided then and there that you could do without those shoes. If Cinderella could do it, why couldn’t you?

You quickly grabbed your handbag and phone from his nightstand and commenced your getaway.

I mean, you were obviously no virtuous princess and he was hardly prince charming from the foul mouth that you could remember from last night—insert blush here-- but still…

You turned the handle behind you as you softly shut the door so that it wouldn’t make much noise, only to turn around toward the hallway and be met with a pair of bright, crimson eyes. Caught red handed, You faltered a little bit as the built man in front of you became practically as scarlet as his hair,

“U-Uh-- Good morning!” Kirishima forced out as he obviously struggled to keep his eyes on your face. Try as he might, he couldn’t keep his eyes from wandering down the chains of silver that barely held your dress on your shoulders.

Or the open slits on your upper thighs that let your shapely hips spill out from underneath your shimmering dress.

Or your obviously messed up hair that had probably spent much of the night between Bakugou’s fingers. He felt his face become unbearably hot at the intrusive thought.

His eyes flickered back up to yours, but not before you could notice the way that they seemed to trail down your body.

You relaxed into your chest a bit, Okay, just a roommate. He seemed fairly harmless and ‘SIMP’ enough not to raise many red flags or dangerous pervert alerts. You breathed into something resembling a laugh as you smirked up at him, “G’ Morning.”

Kirishima’s breath was caught in his lungs at the song of your voice, “M-morning…” Shit, did he already say that? The man suddenly became very aware of what he was wearing. Or rather, what he wasn’t wearing as a draft flew in from the pants leg of his boxers.

His blush almost instantly intensified—and he thanked every lucky star that he didn’t have the hormonal “tell-all” body of a teenager anymore.

You only smiled, brushing past the red-head, toward the front door. As you made your way past the kitchen you noticed a bowl of fruit displayed on the bar. Your mind quickly fleeted to thoughts of ‘what a weird fucking thing to see in what was obviously a man cave—o-or a bachelor pad. Man pad? Bachelor Cave???’ Did you accidentally wonder into a Martha Stewart catalog without realizing it?

As you eyed the odd arrangement of fruit, you didn’t even notice the other two roommates already situated in the open living room—their eyes wide as they trailed your form.

“Are these real?” you spoke up suddenly, startling Kirishima who was at this point deciding whether or not to go back into his room and pretend he hadn’t seen you and lost half of his brain, or to go to the kitchen for breakfast as he had planned. “Can I have one?” you shamelessly asked.

“Yeah! Sure!” Kirishima answered maybe a bit too strongly. The poor man just wanted to compensate for his totally unmanly display earlier. He just… he’d never seen anyone like you before. Especially not in his ‘humble’ (that was being generous) apartment.

That’s when one of the men from the living room decided to speak up, “You can have all of them, sweetheart,” his voice immediately snapped your attention toward the rather spacious (empty--except for a couch, a TV and a... bench press?) living room, where you came into contact with the speaker’s golden eyes, “Go on. Take as much as you want,” the kind smile he wore contained just the slightest hint of ulterior motives, you noticed. You take back what you said earlier. The real SIMP was right here.

You furrowed your eyebrows at him, “Just one will do, thanks.” Your flat tone did nothing to disinterest Kaminari as he ogled at you grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl and shoving it in your mouth when you noticed a pair of heels haphazardly tossed by the front door. Aha! There are your fucking shoes!

The electric blond watched in utter fascination as you held the fruit between your teeth and began slipping your heels back on. Holy shit. He was glad he woke up early for once.

Kirishima approached two of his roommates, shaking his head at the giddy one currently drooling over Bakugou’s overnight visitor,

“Get a grip, dude. It’s not manly to stare like that,” he lowly warned so you couldn’t hear. He felt like a bit of a hypocrite, but at least he was trying to maintain some decency. It seemed like Kaminari had simply thrown all of his fucks to give out of the window as he shamelessly eyed you like an Englishman on safari. Come on, bro!

“Yeah. Didn’t you hear her with Bakugou last night?!”

“How could I not, Sero? I’m pretty sure the entire complex heard!” Kaminari resentfully whispered to his two roommates before sweeping a hand through his blond locks and snaking his way towards you, “So… what’s your name, gorgeous?”

You could hardly hold back the look of disgust that fell upon your expression as you looked up at this man. Read the fucking room, dude. You couldn’t make this situation more obvious if you were wearing a damn sign on your head that said “One Night Stand: Hit It and Quit It,” and sprinted out of the apartment.

You didn’t want to make friends.

You didn’t want to introduce yourself to someone’s roommates when you didn’t even know their damn name.

And you sure as hell didn’t want to be passed around to said stranger’s roommates like a fucking bottle of wine at communion, “First name: Not, last name: Interested,” you deadpanned.

A series of “OHHHH’s” and “She got you, Bro! She got you good!” sounded throughout the apartment. As you swung the front door open, looking back one final time to see the look of absolute disheartenment spread across the blonds face, “Ba-bye~ Oh! and Thanks for the fruit, Red,” you winked before shutting the door behind you, unknowingly causing Kirishima to dissolve into a blushing mess.

You heard a bit of commotion come from the other side of the door when you left but didn’t pay it much mind as you began your walk to the nearest train station—taking another bite from your bachelor pad apple.

Bakugou, however, couldn’t ignore the commotion you had left behind as his scowling form emerged from his bedroom, “Could you idiots be any fucking louder!?” The blond was already in a terrible mood. He had woken up to fucking ketchup, mustard, and mayo’s shouting only to realize that his bed was suddenly much colder than he remembered it had been when he fell sleep.

The frustrated man was instantly met with his other blond counterpart throwing himself at his knees, “Bakugou, buddy!” he cried out, clutching the fabric of the other man’s sleepers, “You’ve gotta teach me your ways!” he groveled at his feet as if Bakugou was the lord and savior of in-cels everywhere.

“The hell are you talking about?” his hands crackled furiously as he seriously prepared to blast the dunce-face off of him, “get the fuck off’a me!” he roared.

Kirishima reluctantly spoke up, gaining the two blond’s attention and probably saving Kaminari’s life, “Honestly… I gotta say even I’m surprised. She was… unreal,” Kirishima’s cheeks dusted over in a light shade of pink just at the memory of you.

Even Bakugou had to mask the sudden warmness that fled to his own face as your image suddenly popped into his mind. He shoved the butterflies down into his stomach so that he could shit them out later, “What’s that supposed to mean, shitty hair?!”

Sero, who had previously just been silently enjoying the wild spectacle before him, had finally decided to give his input on the situation, “What Kirishima is trying to say is ‘how the hell did a sack of anger issues wrapped in a mean mug like yours score a chick like that?’”

“WHAT DID YOU SAY, HORSE TEETH?!”

“Stop putting words in my mouth!” Kirishima whined before Kaminari finally asked the question that had been lingering in all of their minds,

“Did you get at least get her number?” The matter gave birth to a few beats of silence between all the roommates. Bakugou visibly stiffened at this question as his face shriveled up.

“I don’t know… She seemed to get out of here in quite a hurry,” Sero contemplated aloud, effectively breaking the silence.

A tinge of pain shot straight through Bakugou’s pride at his words. You had practically run out of there—away from him. Was last night really that bad? He seemed to have a much different memory than you of the event.

Tch. Whatever. It doesn’t fucking matter.

Shoving these thoughts out of his head, he scoffed, “Good. The hell do I need her number for?”

Silence once again befell the four—this time being disrupted by Kaminari, “You don’t know how good you have it,” he shook his head, “You don’t deserve half the things you get, man…”

Of course, this only caused the apartment to erupt into another fit of commotion—death threats and cheap insults being thrown in every space of the testosterone-filled home.

Meanwhile.

You tried to ignore the multitude of awkward stares you garnered as you made your way through the train station. They were probably—well, more than likely-- because of your racy evening wear, but shit. You didn’t exactly plan on getting dicked down last night. At least, maybe not on a conscious level.

You sighed before boarding the train and looking down to view the notifications on your phone. Oh crap, it was later in the day than you had originally thought.

Boss lady:

[7:42am]

Someone told me that you went to Club 52 last night.

You better not be hungover or wasted when you get here, Y/N

Inches! Y/N! I need you at your inches!

Ahhh. the old 35, 25, 35. The perfect body shape. Well, she can take all 85 of those inches and shove them up her ass for all you cared.

Boss Lady:

[8:03am]

I am serious.

Sick of  cleaning up your messes.

Don’t ever pull this shit again when we have such a big brand deal!

Remember. I have eyes everywhere, missy!

As the messages went on you only scanned them,

How could you do this to me Blah. Blah. Blah. I stuck my neck out for you Blah. Blah. Blah. Where else could someone like you find work as good as this Blah. Blah. Blah. Etcetera, etcetera.

Damn boss Lady was like a fucking broken record.

You closed your eyes on the train and tried to astral project your spirit to a better place. Somewhere where you didn’t have to take a shitty modeling job to pay your damn rent. Somewhere where you had an obtainable passion. Somewhere where you could do something meaningful with your life.

Somewhere where you weren’t just some damn pathetic quirkless girl whose only talent was looking good in front of a camera and taking bullshit.

“You’re late!” The bodies of women lit up by the hard lights on set seemed to all turn in your direction at your boss’s loud announcement. The aggressive clacking of her heels sounded in the air like gunshots as she stormed over to you, but you couldn’t be less impressed by her repetitive intimidation tactics,

“What are you talking about? It’s 9:00!”

“9:04! The shoot started at 9 and you don’t even have makeup on!” her nose crinkled in disgust as she neared you. The way that she dramatically gagged at your scent had your eyes rolling, “And you fucking smell like sex. Jesus fucking Christ Y/N! You. Intern! Get over here! Go hose her down!” she called your friend, Kimi, over, “You’re lucky I don’t ring your neck! The marketing agent will be here in less than an hour and he wants to see progress!” by this point Kimi had rushed over and began herding you away from the multitude of disapproving stares you had gathered from the other models.

But not before you heard whispers of your unprofessionalism.

“Now, go get your pretty ass presentable looking!” Boss lady shooed you off.

As your friend literally hosed you down in the bathroom with her hydropump quirk, she already had a bottle of body wash on hand-- completely desensitized to your naked body by this point. Neither of you said a word for a while, but you could tell that she was itching to speak up, “So…” a grin spread across her face as she rinsed the suds out of your hair, “Was he at least cute?”

“Super fucking attractive,” you gave a short laugh, “At least. I think so. I don’t really remember his face…”

Her loud laugh sounded through the bathroom before the space was once again covered within a thick sheet of silence. When the two of you were close to finished, she sighed at your idle, far off gaze before attempting to strike up a bit of conversation, “I really should be thanking you. You keep my job security, after all,” she joked.

She wasn’t exactly wrong.

She was pretty much hired to be your babysitter under the guise of “stylist intern” in Ainu’s modeling agency; however, when she was hired for this gig ‘frequently bathing a hungover, grown mess of a thot’ and ‘constant ginger ale, and Pepto Bismol runs’ were probably not in the job description.

“I keep my life a mess just for you,” you lazily smirked up at her.

“Your life is hardly a mess. You’re living the dream, supermodel girl.”

Your mind flashed back to girls around you eating cotton balls to satiate their hunger, to women working 10 hour long photo shoots in 6-inch heels, to being urged to give brand promoters “special attention” to secure the agency’s profits, to runway events that left you sleepless for days at a time, to your own fingers plunging down the back of your throat so that you could fit into the impossible dress sizes fitted by your designers, “Yeah...” you quietly trailed off.  

The shoot went fairly well, after your late start.

It was actually different than most others that you have participated in since the main focus was upon the red shoes that they wanted to promote. The photographer had decided—much to the dismay of the other models on set—that you would be a focal point in his artwork. Claiming that you had such a “sexy, sexy look” and were going to be huge one day.

Thanks creepy, middle-aged, French photographer. Now half of these girls are gonna cry themselves to sleep tonight and the other half are gonna create voodoo dolls of you to stick needles in.

Fairly well, or not, you couldn’t fight the urge to click your red sneaker soles together three times every now and then—internally chanting “there’s no place like home, there’s no place like home.”

Needless to say, it didn’t work.

It was about three weeks later when you found yourself at the official branding event of those stupid red sneakers. It was some kind of charity event/campaign/branding bullshit hybrid—or whatever.

Most of the models that were there the day of the original photo shoot weren’t even requested to go. Since you had been a focal point in that shoot, you were invited (forced) to attend by the brand marketer. Your uninvited colleagues of course, hated you even more after that, but you would trade places with any one of them in a heartbeat.

Your stomach bubbled a little bit—‘need vodka’ it cried.

You patted the poor organ in solidarity. You like to think that you are very in tune with your needs. You’d much rather be boozing it up in some sweaty booty club than be at… whatever the fuck this was.  

Everyone there was dressed up like it was some cocktail party or some christening or something. The large room was filled to the brim with tables with neatly folded napkins and different red and green finger foods on the centerpieces. There was a clearing in the middle, under the chandelier, for “dancing” but was really for people to socialize and network.

Hmmm. Not a red sneaker in sight except for the banners of photos from your shoot hanging from the ceiling, you noticed.

“Could you at least pretend to act interested?” boss lady whispered, “Smile a little, yeah?” Ainu completely rolled her eyes at the strained grimace of a smile you threw her—the glare she threw back saying ‘you little shit!’.

You couldn’t help but laugh as the two of you began to drift away from one another—with her sending you one more lingering glance that said ‘stay away from the alcohol and don’t do anything stupid!’

Of course, you nodded like the obedient little clothing rack you were, but as soon as her back was turned you found yourself snatching a glass or two of chardonnay from one of the passing waiter’s trays. As you took a long sip from the glass—careful not to smudge your lipstick—you found your eyes wondering across the unimpressive room.

They ended up settling in the corner of the place, on a man standing alone, nervously fidgeting with his suit cuffs.

Ah. Quality entertainment! You took another sip from one of your glasses.

You nonchalantly strolled toward the man before twisting yourself around next to him so that you were both facing the growing crowd of the room, “All this for some red sneakers?” you spoke up with a slight grin.

His eyes immediately shot up to one of the banners hanging above you before settling back to your smirk, “Y-Y-your one of the models form the poster!” his face darkened into a deep blush and you slightly lifted one of your drinks into the air with a quirk of your eyebrow as if to say, ‘guilty as charged.’

He seemed to get over his shocked state quickly, “Well… uh-- I guess it does seem a little silly when you put it that way, huh?”

“Is there really any other way to put it?”

He seemed to be lost in thought for a moment—his eyes trailing toward the ground in front of him, but you were patient. You took the time to take in his wild, green hair—it was dark, kinda like the seaweed that you wrap around sushi. Your mind flickered to what you remembered sushi tasting like, but it had been such a long time.  He finally spoke up “Well, they are giving half of the profits made to start a campaign to end the bullying of quirkless children,”

“Really?” your eyebrows shot up as the man looked back up to you. Your chest abruptly rose up as you gave a half chuckle, “That’s… well, that’s something. Apparently, this brand is being started by some up and coming hero. Deku? I haven’t really heard much about him, but he’s probably just using us quirkless folk as a stepping stool to celebrity,” he seemed to visibly stiffen at your words but it wasn’t every day that you got to talk about civil rights concerning the quirkless. You passionately continued, “It’s like saving kittens or walking an old lady across the street. I mean, what’s a big shot hero like that know about being quirkless? Tell me,” you leaned in close to him and nodded into the sea of people filing into the room, “Do you see a quirkless kid in sight, right now?”

You left him silent as he began pondering your statement. Hm! Good.

Satisfied with yourself, you took in the final sip from your remaining glass—tilting the curvy cup up into the sky to get every drop.

A tall man with glasses shuffled through the dense crowd to make his way towards the two of you “Midoriya, there he is! Excuse me, Miss,” he stiffly bowed to you at an awkwardly low angle before turning back toward the green haired man, “Come this way. Quickly. I would like to introduce you to…”

As he was pulled into the crowd by the weird tall man you found yourself curiously staring at where he had disappeared.

“Mmm. Isn’t he just as yummy as you thought he’d be?” the familiar voice snapped you straight out of your thoughts, startling you into a slight jump. You whipped your head behind you to see Kimi’s giggling face, “C’mon!! Ainu wants you to get some photos in at that set over there.”

“Ughhh, you know how I feel about red-carpet shoots, Kimi.” It was just a bunch of amateur photographers barking orders and questions at you like some glorified paparazzi. She ignored your whining as she dragged you to the literal red carpet in the far wall of the room, blocked off by a velvet rope and surrounded by a buzzing infestation of flashing cameras. You suddenly became very aware of the very chemical scent of her perfume—and the growing nausea twisting within your stomach.

“You can go find your hero boyfriend, later! I promise!” she practically shoved you onto the carpet, but you could only throw her a confused glance. Who was she talking about?

“Huh?”

“Don’t tell me you seriously didn’t know who that was! We are literally in a room of heroes right now!! That guy that you were with? He’s the entire reason we are here right now, Y/N!” you could hardly fight off the look of confusion that befell your face as you began posing for the flashes of photos being taken of you. Whatever. You probably just looked like the confused bimbo that they all thought you were anyway.

Kimi smacked her hand on her forehead—tossing you an exasperated glance, “Hello!? Red sneakers—the Deku! I can’t believe you. He’s projected to be the number one hero in a few years—that Deku!”

You felt your blood immediately run cold.

The Deku you had put on blast directly to his face. The one who was endorsing this entire brand that your agency had a deal with—that Deku, “Oh. Shit.”

You suddenly felt very sick.

Meanwhile, the three stooges had finally dragged their grouchy roommate out of the apartment and had made their way into the Red Sneakers Event, much to the dismay of said grouchy roommate. He would quite literally prefer to be anywhere else but here. Hell, he would rather stick his head in a vat of acid than be at some dumbass “quirkless sneaker” party for that shitty Deku. There couldn’t possibly be any good reason for him to be here right now.

“Oh, shit!” Kaminari’s grating voice snapped Bakugou out of his thoughts. He looked up to where the blond was pointing, and his heart skipped a beat.

The banners adorning the ceiling of the space sported a very familiar face.

“Isn’t that your hottie from last month, Bakugou?” the electric man practically giggled with amusement, “Over there, too! She’s at the red carpet!” Bakugou’s red eyes danced over to the succession of flashing lights on the far side of the room. Somehow, even with the herd of photographers clumped behind the red rope, he could still make out your gleaming form. It was as if you radiated light, blinding him to anyone else between you and him.

What the fuck? Where did those thoughts come from?

With a click of his tongue the blond instantly spat these feelings out of his head.

“Huh!” Kirishima tilted his head and gave a short, amazed laugh as well, “Look at that-- it totally is!”

Sero decided to chime in as well, completing the unholy trinity of pains on Bakugou’s ass, “Of course she’s a model. Dude, how did you trick that poor girl into your bed?” It took every ounce of willpower that the ash blond could muster not to blow ‘Elbow’s’ face off right then and there as he ground his teeth together.

Kirishima bravely leaned over to the seething man, “You should go say something to her.”

“Why the hell would I do that!?”

“Because if you don’t, I will,” Kaminari straightened his tie like he was grooming himself to approach you. Fucking as if!

“Like she’d be interested in your dumb ass!” Bakugou loudly snapped.

“That sounds pretty possessive Baku-bro,” Sero hardly ever called him this unless he wanted to get under the time-bomb of a man’s skin, “Almost like you have feelings~,” him and Kaminari began snickering to themselves as Bakugou neared the maximum capacity of his internal ‘pissed off-o-meter.’

The two men laid off of him a bit—knowing very well by this point what buttons to push and when to stop pushing them when it came to their feral friend.

“Looks like you’re missing your chance,” Kirishima spoke up—nodding his head to your fleeing figure. “I think she’s leaving.” Bakugou looked up to see your desperate form dash for the coat racks in the corner of the room.

As you made your way to the coat racks, you were completely oblivious to the lingering eyes that followed you—only focused on the furious ones that approached you and the rising, gurgling feeling in your stomach.

“And just where do you think you’re going?” your pissed off boss halted you right by the coat rack—Kimi, trailing not to behind you, was halted as well, “The event has hardly even started!”

“I don’t…” the bubbling in your stomach shot up your throat and was hardly caught in time as you slightly gagged, “I don’t feel too good, Ainu…”

She could only groan into her palm as she threw her head up toward the ceiling, “I told your ass not to—Ughhhh! Can’t you go one night without getting utterly shitfaced, Y/N!?”

Kimi reluctantly spoke up, “She hardly drank tonight. I think she really is sick,” her voice was very soft in the air as she defended you, and you realized that this is the first time you’d ever heard her talk to your boss directly.

Ainu’s eyes seemed to dance across yours and Kimi’s for a few beats—probably to gauge whether there was truth to Kimi’s words-- before she finally made up her mind, “Fine. Go on,”’ she tilted her head toward the direction of the exit with an irritated wave of her hand, “Take her home.”

“No,” you moved past Ainu toward the coat rack, “I think I can make it on my own,” you argued before shimming your fur on. After a mini dispute, your friend reluctantly agreed to let you make your way home alone.

Bakugou watched on as you gave the women that were with you tiny half-assed hugs before making your way toward the room’s exit—towards him. For the first time in practically forever, the man felt his heart drop down into his toes.

The four roommates all paused as you approached them. You were for sure going to see Bakugou and say something to him, right?

Wrong.

All three friends noticeably winced as you nonchalantly brushed pasted the four of him, not even sparing a passing glance at their shocked, blond comrade. “Oof. That’s gotta hurt,” Kaminari grimaced.

Sero’s lips stretched into an uncomfortable frown, “I don’t even think she recognized you, man.”

Kirishima could only remain silent as he watched a flurry of unfamiliar emotions flicker across his best friend’s face. Even if his buddy wasn’t clearly and uncharacteristically upset, he would still probably be at a loss of words from the secondhand embarrassment that was flooding into his cheeks.

“SHUT UP!” Bakugou snapped, pulling his face back into his trademark scowl, “What the hell do I care? I already slept with her. What else is there to do?” I don’t fucking care, I don’t fucking care. The man chanted to himself as he shoved his body into the crowd—anything to get away from those shitty dumbasses.

Sero gave a low whistle, “Wounded words, from a wounded man.”

When you made it back home that night, you spent the better part of the evening with your head glued to the toilet, and you really fucking didn’t understand why.

Two glasses were practically a baby bottle to you at this point. There is no way that you got sick off just that. So… food poisoning then? You fought a laugh at the amusing thought. You have to actually eat for that to happen.

Shit. And you were cramping like a mother fucker.

You instinctively opened you phone brushing past the ‘Are you okay?’ text from Kimi to make your way to your period tracker app. Maybe it was almost ‘that time of the month.’

A lot of girls that you knew had lost their periods from the severe “weight training” that they endured, but you had actually been regular with yours despite your everyday living.

The app opened—revealing a visually loud, bouncing notification that prompted a different breed of nausea to spin within your gut.

You were about two weeks late.

[themalhambird]

Growing Up Broken: I Talk About My (A)sexuality For 4 ¼ Pages.

I am asexual.

No, this doesn’t mean that I’m some form of plant budding off copies of myself if I get enough water and sunlight. It’s a shame. I could do a lot with multiple copies of myself- get someone else to do the dishes, the cleaning, my schoolwork…

I am asexual.

Asexuality is the absence of sexual desires or feelings for other people. I say absence deliberately: sexual attraction is not something that I lack or am missing. I am not going without. I’m just a 23 year old who has never once felt the desire to have sex with another person, who couldn’t describe how it feels to “fancy” someone if there was a gun to their head, who thinks women and men and anyone in between can sometimes be stunningly beautiful, would possibly be nice to cuddle- but kissing on the mouth seems like it would be a really weird thing to do.

I am asexual, and it’s almost Pride Month, and so I want to untangle some of the thoughts in my head and spin them out on to paper, to try and lay out my feelings about my sexuality, or lack thereof, and what it’s like growing up when no one bothers to tell you that not experiencing sexual desire like, ever, is a thing. Let’s start at the beginning, shall we?

It’s 2014. Puberty has doing stuff to me for the last two years or so: periods (urgh), breasts (neat!), underarm hair (why do I have to shave this? no one’s gonna see it), growth spurts (I’m getting taller than my older sister. I want to keep going till I’m taller than mum). The only thing not happening is wanting to have sex, something the nurse who came to Talk To Us All About Growing Up back in 2009 assured us Year Sixes would definitely happen as soon as puberty hit.

Still. It’ll happen soon, probably. Sixteen is still a bit too young to be having sexual feelings, right? The boys…really not interesting at all, but the other girls are pretty. I like their hair. I like the shape of their bodies. I just don’t fancy any of them. When we’re told to imagine our future husbands or wives in class (don’t ask my why, I’ve long forgotten the point of the exercise, I just remember that) I picture a wife.

(Lesbian is the first label I apply to myself. I stick it on tentatively- keep peeling it off my shirt and putting it back somewhere different like I’m not quite sure where it fits. It’s not wrong, necessarily. I’m just not certain it’s right. I like girls a whole lot better but I’m not saying I could never love a guy. I’m just not attracted to them. I’m not attracted to women, either- but I feel like I will be. When I’m old enough to feel that kind of thing. )

Sex Ed lessons are mortifying. We’re asked to list all the sexual terms we know on an A3 sheet of paper. I don’t know what half the things other people say mean- blowjob, 69, masturbate, porn . I don’t know how other people know these things either. We’re sixteen. It’s too young.

That summer I play Sebastian in an abridged version of Twelfth Night and it convinces me to take Drama at A-level, although I didn’t at GCSE. The drama classes teach me two things. First of all, I don’t like acting women. I prefer breeches rolls. I don’t know why. We’re talking about my asexuality, not my gender confusion, so let’s put a pin in that and move on to point two. My drama class teaches me that everyone my age is having sex, or wants to have sex, or is planning on having sex soon; sex is a constant, every class, every conversation. Sex, sex, sex, sex, sex. So apparently sixteen (seventeen) isn’t too young after all.

It’s like this. One day you wake up and you realise that everyone else is speaking a language you don’t understand. Suddenly, sexual feelings aren’t something that no one your age is having but you’ll all develop soon- it’s that sexual feelings are something that everybody your age is having apart from you. People your age are dating, kissing, fucking, and it’s not something you’re interested in doing, necessarily, but you still feel so horribly left out. Like you’re missing some kind of major milestone. You try not to let it bother you- you watch Buffy every Monday you get to see your dad. (You watch loss of virginity be portrayed as growing up). You read. (The books you pick up all involve love and love always seems to at least imply sex). You- google things. You google the words you didn’t understand in that sex ed class. You google “how to tell if you’re attracted to someone” in case there’s some secret signal your body sent you that you missed. You feel like you should know if you’ve ever felt sexual attraction but then maybe you’re just really, really dumb. Maybe there’s something wrong with you. The NHS website reckons that if you’ve got a low sex drive you ought to see a doctor. The girls in your drama class keep talking about boys and sex and sex and boys and you aren’t really interested in either of those things. You cling to the thought, lesbian and hope that when you get to university, you’ll stop being so repressed. Girls are pretty- but the ones at school are either your friends or kind of mean. Of course you don’t fancy anyone there. University. University will save you. (Boys are sometimes pretty too. There are boys at school whose personalities are nice enough- who are the type of man you wouldn’t mind dating one day maybe- but you can’t ever picture yourself having sex with one. Dicks seem weird and really not the kind of thing you’d want inside you. I mean for fuck’s sake- why? You can’t even get a tampon in.)

I don’t like looking back on this. Sixteen, seventeen year old me was starting to get pretty freaked out. I like looking back at the first year of uni even less, because if seventeen year old me was freaking out, eighteen year old me was buying alcohol. That’s how it goes, right? Sex and alcohol. You see it all the time on T.V. Fictional people get fictional drunk and fictional cheat while they’re on fictional breaks with their fictional partners. David Tennant is pretty. A man at work is handsome and more importantly intelligent, into Shakespeare, into good conversation. The label switches from lesbian to ‘bisexual but heavily skewed toward women’ and I cling to that as tightly as possible because after that, I’m out of options. It is impossible that I’m not feeling sexual attraction: the whole world screams about sexual fucking attraction all the fucking time, I’m obviously just too uptight, I obviously just need to relax-

I once drank a whole bottle of wine in what was essentially one go. I paused for breath, but that was about it- I don’t think I even bothered with a glass. My goal was to get myself drunk enough that I could feel sexual attraction. I thought that the best way to go about things- to finally ‘grow up’- would be to get super drunk, and then leave the flat and find someone who would screw me. I reasoned that I would enjoy it once I was doing it- after all, the whole world pushes sex as this wholly desirable thing for any normal adult to want, even need- so I would like it once I was doing it and then I would be fixed. Fortunately, drinking a whole bottle of wine when you’ve never had more than a single glass of champagne or a couple of glasses of rum and apple juice before in your life gets you past “lowered inhibitions” to “can’t walk straight or upright” very quickly. I got as far as the bathroom, threw up, a lot, and staggered back to my room. I woke up at 3 pm the next afternoon feeling stupid for drinking, and mad at myself for still being a virgin.

I had a lot of problems in my first year of university and not all of them were about my sexuality crisis. I was isolated, fairly friendless, and not really cut out for socialising with my housemates who were probably all lovely people, but I find new people painfully difficult and hiding away seemed easier. But the feeling that there was something broken inside me because I wasn’t experiencing what everything seemed to be telling me was one of the most vital parts of the human experience- sexual attraction to other people- contributed to my general feelings of self-loathing and disgust. I attempted to induce sexual desire in myself by drinking on several further occasions, although never quite to the same extent as the first time. I’m not sure whether this counts as self-harm, but it certainly wasn’t healthy.

I didn’t know asexuality was a thing.

I knew I wasn’t straight- I’d known that for a while. I learnt that I enjoyed reading, talking, even writing about sex, as long as it was sex between people who weren’t real, but fantasising about fictional characters having sex and fantasying about myself having sex are two very different things. The former happened fairly frequently. The latter didn’t happen once, and still never has. My second year at university was better than my first: I was living with friends, I was further away from campus which meant I had to walk more, which probably helped, I had also started to make several friends online with whom I could happily chat even when I wasn’t in the mood for ‘actual’ people. I used bisexual to describe myself because on the rare occasions I thought about romance, I couldn’t really see myself ruling out anyone who was willing to put up with me.

I’m not quite clear when I first heard the term ‘asexuality’. I became aware of it gradually. Someone I followed on Tumblr identified as ‘grey-ace’. Characters from my favourite fantasy series were being headcanoned as ‘asexual’. At some point I must have learnt properly what that meant.

It sometimes feels like there ought to have been a lightbulb moment- like I should have seen the word, seen the definition, and instantly seen myself. But it is very, very hard to delete the message- ‘sex is important- sex is what grown-ups do- sex is what you should want to do’ – that the world constantly sends to us: in advertising, in entertainment, in the conversations of a drama class that always circled back to that topic, to the detriment of the sole seventeen year old who wasn’t really bothered. To embrace asexuality seemed like I was giving up on trying to fix myself, on waiting for the right person to come and make everything better. On the potential of their being a right person. I can wrap my head around people having casual sex very easily. It’s romantic love without sexual desire that I’m scared won’t work- how am I supposed to know if it’s love without there also being physical attraction? No romance arc that I had ever seen was without an element of sexual tension. So, no lightbulb moment for me. No switch going off- “aha, at last, that’s what I am!”. Just a gradual thought washing across my mind every now and then, like the tide rushing up a patch of sand and drawing straight back, leaving only dampness to show where there had been a good half-inch of water only a moment ago.

I might be asexual?

And ‘I might’ becomes ‘I think I am’, and the tide starts coming in. ‘I think I am’ became ‘I am’ at some point or other.

I am asexual.

I find reassurance in knowing that there’s a word for what I am, for how I (do not) feel. I am asexual. Not broken, or damaged, or too uptight to properly feel, or too dumb to recognise what I do feel. I am asexual- I have an absence of any sexual desire for others and that’s perfectly okay. I might fall in love one day. I might not. I don’t know how you’re supposed to know if you have the capacity to fall in love before you find yourself doing it. It might be nice to have a wife. It would also be nice to have a cat. I could cope with it just being me, a cat, and good friends for the rest of my life. If I fall in love- if I am capable of falling in love- it will just mean I am asexual, but romantic, and I will have learnt something new about myself. The point is-

The point is, I am incredibly lucky that I stumbled across Asexuality before I got myself hurt trying to force something that wasn’t there. The point is, this world assumes that sexual desires are the norm, and maybe they are, but that just makes it all the more important that people know that they aren’t abnormal for not experiencing sexual desire. To all the people who need to hear it: You are not broken. You are not alone.

I’m not sure how to wrap this up. I feel like I should say something profound or something. But I think I’m just gonna leave it like this:

I am asexual. Asexuality is the absence of sexual desires or feelings for other people. I say absence deliberately: sexual attraction is not something that I lack or am missing. I am not going without. I’m just a 23 year old who has never once felt the desire to have sex with another person, who couldn’t describe how it feels to “fancy” someone if there was a gun to their head, who thinks women and men and anyone in between can sometimes be stunningly beautiful, and possibly be nice to cuddle- but kissing on the mouth seems like it would be a really weird thing to do. I am not broken. I am not ‘going through a phase’ or ‘looking for attention’ or ‘trying to be special’. Everyone’s special, fuck you. Knowing that I am not the only person to feel how I feel makes me feel like I’m standing on solid ground. May all people experiencing the same confusion and distress over their sexual orientation that I felt growing up find their way safely to the same solid ground: you are not broken. We’re not broken.

[delta-roseblr]

Ficlet for your reading pleasure

Look at me posting a prompt (that really wasn’t a direct prompt but lets not focus on that) in the first time in a while! I’m proud of me!

Hope you enjoy!

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"Where is this place again?" Felix asked as he made what felt like his one-hundredth right turn. They were going in circles, not that Felix was going to admit that. All the streets just looked too similar, and Felix wasn't familiar enough with Nashville to have any idea where he was going.

"It's off Church," Kyle answered as he sat forward in the backseat of Felix's jeep so Felix could see him in his rearview mirror. He and pretty much nothing else. He kept fucking talking about Church Street like Felix knew where the fuck that was. If it was Burlington, Felix could have drawn a map of Church Street from god-damned memory, but he really knew next to fucking nothing about Nashville. He had told Kyle multiple times, but he still just kept talking about fucking Church Street. Kyle held his arm out in the space between the driver and front passenger seat and gestured at the darkened street in front of them as he added, "I think you go two more blocks and then take a left."

"It's three blocks, and you need to take a right if we want to find parking," Dean declared from the passenger's seat as he looked up from his phone. The fact that it had taken this long for Dean to chime in was surprising. Dean had actually pitched a fit when Felix had said he would be the one driving that night. Since Leonard thought Felix was studying at Kyle's and had no idea Dean was home from college yet, and he definitely didn't know they were going to a gay bar, it made the most sense. Also, Felix would never say it to Dean because he loved his car so much, but the old Honda was just filled with the weirdest mix of unpleasant smells, and even after the engine was rebuilt, it still made strange fucking noises like it was ready to fucking die. Felix appreciated Dean's car, especially when it was the only car they had access to, but now Felix had his jeep. His jeep was an old piece of shit, too, but it just wasn't quite as old or quite as shitty as Dean's POS.

From the corner of his eye, Felix saw Dean slip his phone into the pocket of his jeans before bringing his full attention to the road. "And I won't point out how much easier this would have been if you had just let me drive," he commented.

It was dark, but the streetlights lit up the inside of the cab, and Felix could see the little satisfied smirk playing on Dean's lips. He thought he had won something which should have been annoying, but it was just kind of cute. Dean had really been away for too long.

They came to a stop at a streetlight, and Felix took advantage of the moment. He turned to look at his boyfriend. He was all blond hair and warm skin as always. "Dean," he said his name sweetly but also with a warning, "Unless you've figured out how to suck your own dick, you should probably stop fucking talking."

"I retract my previous statement," Dean stated seriously. Of course, it was Dean, and he was just as bold as he always was, so he reached out and brought a hand to rest on Felix's thigh. It wasn't so high, but it was high enough to up Felix's heartbeat a little. "Your driving and understanding of the city of Nashville is amazing, and I really can't complain," he stated with a bright smile.

"You two are so cute," Kyle faked cooed from the backseat before adding (mockingly), "I think I'm going to puke."

Eventually, they found the bar, found a place to park, and then made their way to the bar. It might have just been because Felix was comparing it to Burlington but getting into the place was beyond easy.

Once inside, they found a pretty thin crowd, but Felix didn't expect much more for the time of year. They had managed to hit that sweet spot where most of the younger people that came to the club were probably already tangled up in family holiday stuff, but most of the college kids hadn't returned home yet.

They were just a few feet into the place when they all collectively decided to stop and look around. To be honest, it was pretty much what Felix expected for a gay bar on the outskirts of Nashville, so it was pretty much par for the course, but other people clearly felt differently.

"This isn't….what I had been expecting," Kyle admitted sounding more disappointed with each word.

"What were you expecting?" Felix questioned. He sounded annoyed, which was because absolutely was, and yeah, he knew that made him an asshole, but this had been Kyle's idea. Not only had it been Kyle's idea, but Kyle had asked Dean after Felix had said no. He didn't go as far as to ask Dean behind Felix's back at least and asked Dean about it right in front of Felix. Much to Felix's surprise, his boyfriend that had also expressed a dislike of bars, immediately said yes. Felix was fucking shit at telling Dean no, so he was fucking stuck going, and both he and Kyle knew it. So Felix didn't care if the place was a little on the dingy side. He didn't care that the lighting managed to be both too bright and too dark at the same time. Felix didn't even care that the music playing overhead sounded more like static than anything else. He expected Kyle to be his typically overly excited self. "Pride flags and a rainbow-colored bar?"

"I was expecting to get ID'd at the door," Dean admitted. His voice was carefully neutral, and one look Felix found his expression matched his tone, but his eyes were scanning the room critically. Felix knew Dean well enough to know that this place was dive bar enough to bring up some daddy issues, not that Dean would say anything or suggest they leave. No, Dean would suffer silently.

"This is supposed to be an under 21 bar," Kyle informed quickly and matter-of-factly. Felix was half surprised Kyle didn't start reading the place's description from the website from memory. Felix was sure he could have because Kyle had been internet stalked the place for a while. Apparently, the website painted a different picture than what reality had to provide, and the shock was clear on Kyle's face. "And I don't know what I was expecting really," Kyle offered, and to his credit, he was obviously trying to hide his disappointment, and he mostly succeeded with his neutral tone. It was his face that gave him away. "I at least expected half the people here to be around our age."

"Yeah," Felix agreed with an unnecessary look around the place. "For a bar that is supposed to include people under 21, a lot of the people here look to be over forty," he pointed out. Really, it would have been impossible not to notice even if the place was hopping, but since it was moderately busy at the moment, so it stood out. Felix saw more guys that looked like they might hang out with his dad instead of kids around his age. He guessed divorced middle-aged men embracing the gayness they had been suppressing for years needed to get out too, but it was weird that they were choosing an under-21 bar when Nashville has several more traditional gay bars.

For the briefest of moments, Felix had a little bit of hope that the difference between Kyle's expectations and reality would be enough to make Kyle want to leave. They could get pizza or something. That hope died almost the moment it was born. It was almost like someone snapped their fingers, and Kyle got over his disappointment and shifted back to being excited, even if it was a bit more tempered now.

Kyle turned to him with a fucking smile on his face and asked, "Do we find a table?"

"I guess," Felix conceded with a sigh. He wasn't surprised, but he was disappointed that he wasn't going to get to escape. "Dean?" he questioned and got no reply. "Dean!?"

He looked to Dean just in time to see him looking up from his phone with a confused and bewildered expression. "Sorry, what?"

"We are going to find a table if you can look away from your phone," Felix informed with mostly fake annoyance.

"Yeah, sorry I was trying to translate this text message from Nico," Dean explained, which made sense even before he added, "For a guy that speaks several languages he can't spell in any of them" He shifted his phone so he was holding it in one hand and moved to put it in his back pocket before commenting, "But we should definitely find a table."

Felix would have fucking sworn he felt every ounce of positive drain from Kyle, so it wasn't a fucking surprise that when Felix looked at the guy, he looked tense, and his expression was carefully stony. "So Will is bringing the boyfriend?" he asked in a painfully neutral tone.

"Oh no," Felix exclaimed. He wasn't buying Kyle's attempts at neutrally, mainly because they were shitty attempts. If anyone could understand having an inconvenient, inappropriate crush, Felix liked Kyle too much to watch him continue to do this to himself. Felix had grown to think of Will in a somewhat positive way which was a journey, but he still didn't think of him as much in the way of dating material. Still, that wasn't why he was so bothered by the fact that Kyle couldn't let that crush go. It was never going to fucking happen, which was why it bothered Felix. Will was the most unavailable person on the fucking planet. He and Nico were practically fucking married, for fuck sake. Even if that wasn't the case, Will came with a load of baggage in the way of demigod shit. Kyle, of course, didn't know about that, but Felix fucking did, and he didn't think Kyle needed or would want any of that fucking drama. Fuck had Felix been trying to get Kyle to see the fucking light and shift his interest to someone more appropriate, even if at times it felt like he was banging his head against a wall. Felix didn't have any fucking desire to once again go through all that shit with Kyle, so he just shook his head insistently as he stated, "We're not doing that tonight."

"What!?!" Kyle questioned, but he sounded too outraged for Felix to believe for one second that he didn't know exactly what Felix was talking about, "I asked a question."

"No, you're starting to pine over a self-absorbed ass," Felix summarized indigently. In truth, Felix knew now that Will was pretty far from self-absorbed. Still, he did come with abandonment issues from like a dozen siblings dying in battles and a need for attention that came from having a fuck ton of siblings because Apollo is a fucking whore of a god. Calling Will self-absorbed was just easier, and maybe it was a little be of a reflex still. "Have some self-respect and standards."

Kyle huffed and rolled his eyes dramatically. "A smart, funny, attractive, blond, soccer play," Kyle declared with a heavily sarcastic tone. "No way you could get that attraction," he made a show of looking pointed toward Felix before turning and smiling toward Dean, "Oh, hi Dean! I forgot you were right there."

"That is totally different, and I resent the comparison," Felix growled as he pointed his finger aggressively toward Kyle, "There are plenty of age-appropriate guys around here. We will find you a better one that is available." So plenty might have been a bit of an exaggeration, but the point remained valid. "Now, let's go find a fucking table, so I can see if this bartender won't look too hard at my fake ID."

Surprisingly, the argument or discussion or whatever ended there, at least for the moment. They made their way through the bar's crowd with ease and found a large table that wasn't so far away from the bar that getting drinks would be annoying but not so close that they had to be worried about being overheard by the bartender. They still had the leering older men wondering the place to deal with, but Felix got a general impression that there was no escaping that.

There was some discussion about not wanting to lose their table even though Felix thought the likelihood of that was slim. Kyle suggested waiting until Will arrived (and made no mention of Nico) so there would be someone to watch their table. Felix wasn't exactly sure what Kyle was thinking with that one, but in the end, it didn't matter because Dean reminded him that he didn't have a fake ID so he could stay at the table while Felix bought his drink. Dean suggesting Felix buy anything was a surprise but not a bad one.

"How don't you have a fake ID?" Kyle ended up asking Dean with bewilderment, "You're in college."

Felix had asked the same question the first time Dean mentioned he didn't have a fake ID, although Felix's shock had been he had been in high school without one. The general feel of the question was the same, though. Of course, when Felix had first brought it up, he and Dean weren't dating yet, so he didn't know the details of Dean's home life. Now that he had that knowledge, it all made sense, but at the time, it seemed absurd.

Dean's response to Kyle was almost identical to the reaction Felix had gotten almost two years earlier. He shrugged casually as he replied, "I've never needed one."

Kyle sputtered for a second before reiterating, "But you're in college."

Dean's only reply was to shrug again. Dean wasn't going to explain that he always had unfettered access to alcohol if he wanted it, so something like a fake ID didn't make sense to him. He certainly wasn't going to waste his money on one.

"All the people he hangs out with are older," Felix interjected so they could move on. He patted Dean on the shoulder, ignoring the fact that he had to get up on his toes a little to do it so and gave him a sarcastic smile, "Don't worry, I've got you covered, College Boy."

Dean smirked back at him as he replied dryly, "My hero."

One playful eye roll, and then Felix was off to the bar with Kyle in tow. Considering the place wasn't that crowded, the bar itself was pretty busy. Felix blamed all the old dudes for that. Whatever the reason, he and Kyle ended up standing at the bar waiting for the bartender to notice their existence for a while.

As they waited, Felix pulled on his wallet and dug through the variety of cards and other random shit he had shoved in there to find his fake ID slide behind a stack of used gift cards. It wasn't the most obvious spot to keep it, but it wasn't exactly well hidden either. He was surprised his dad hadn't found it by now. After Leonard had found out about Dean, he had search everything Felix own on more than one occasion.

"Won't the out-of-state ID draw more attention?" Kyle asked as he leaned over Felix's shoulder.

"Don't know," Felix admitted with a shrug as he looked down at the fake Vermont license, "But I guess we'll see." Honestly, if anything was going to be a problem, according to the ID, Felix was almost twenty-six years old. Hopefully, the bartender wasn't too good at mental math because there was no way Felix looked that old.

Felix actually got a little worried when the bartender finally made his way toward them because the guy looked annoyed, but then it became clear that some middle-aged dude was trying to hit on the guy from the other end of the bar. As soon as he was away from that, he cheered right up, took their drink orders, barely looked at their ID's and started on their drinks.

Felix had ordered two beers for himself and Dean while Kyle had ordered some mixed drink, so Felix was handed his beers first and headed back to the table while Kyle remained behind. When he got back to the table, he found that Will and Nico had arrived, and they had apparently brought a third.

"Hey, Cecil," Felix greeted as he deposited one beer in front of Dean before taking a seat. "Wasn't expecting to see you."

Felix liked Cecil, at least for the little he actually interacted with the guy when he was at camp. He was glad he was there if for no other reason then it made it so it wouldn't be two couples and Kyle the whole night. Still, the guy hanging out at a gay bar seemed at least slightly risky if he was still trying to keep quiet about actually being gay thing, not that Felix was going to mention that.

Cecil shrugged, and he might have even had something to say, but Dean interrupted him by tapping Felix's shoulder and catching his attention before Cecil got a chance. "Where's Kyle?" he asked as he looked over Felix's head as if he was still looking.

"Waiting for his drink."

"And you left him!?!" Will questioned with absolute shock.

That was the type of reaction that had made Felix not like Will at first. Okay, it was one of the many things that had made Felix not like Will at first. The guy could just be so dramatic and over the fucking top about small shit. And yeah, Felix now sort of got why but that didn't make it any less annoying at the moment.

"He's a big fucking boy," Felix assured dismissively, "He can take care of himself."

Felix picked up his beer and took a long sip before turning back to Cecil, "What brings you to boring as fuck Tennessee."

"Hey!" Dean protested.

Felix didn't bother to turn to look at Dean, but he did reach out and patted his cheek dismissively. "I love you, but I hate this boring as fuck state, accept it."

Cecil chuckled at their interaction. Felix guessed, even though that was pretty much par for the course for them. "Will and Nico invited me to Thanksgiving," he explained.

"Cool," Felix replied with a nod even though he wasn't sure about that. Camp Half-Blood had pretty good food, and Felix would imagine that they put out an impressive spread for the holidays. Maybe it was depressing to hang out when many campers were away for the school year to spend with their families. Everyone needed a change of scenery every once and a while. At least he wouldn't be missing out on some damn good food because Dean's aunt was a fucking incredible cook.

A surprisingly loud buzzing sound began coming from his pocket, and Felix pulled out his phone, half-convinced it would be a message from his dad saying he had to go home because that would be a very fucking Leonard thing to do. Luckily, it was just a text message from Kyle, even though Felix couldn't think of why Kyle would have to text him when they were literally in the same fucking place.

OMG, come to the bar, NOW!

Felix had no fucking clue what that was about, but he didn't see how he got out of it, so he guessed he was going to have to go back to the bar. "Um, alright," he declared with a heavy sigh as he shoved his phone back into his pocket. "I'll be right back," he informed before hopping off his seat.

He only had to walk about halfway back to the bar to find Kyle standing with his drink in hand, half-hidden behind a wall craning his neck as he stared in the direction of their table. Felix had to admit that wasn't what he had been expecting, and he had no fucking idea what it meant.

"Alright, you got a drink, so now I'm confused," He admitted as he pointed to the drink in Kyle's hand, "Why did I have to come over here?"

Kyle looked at Felix for maybe a second before glancing first at his drink, and then he was back to trying to see their table through the crowd. "Who's the mysterious handsome with Will?" he asked instead of acknowledging Felix's question at all.

Felix looked back toward their table with confusion. He seriously didn't know who the fuck Kyle was talking about. "You've met Nico before," he reminded because that was the only thing that made sense even though it only barely did.

Kyle turned and glared at Felix like he was an absolute idiot. "You are such a fucking ass," he responded with more contempt than Felix had ever heard from Kyle before. "I have zero interest in Will's punk rock underwear model boyfriend, thank you very much."

Every once in and while, Kyle would insist that he wasn't bothered by the fact that Will was dating someone and that he was totally over his crush, and then there were moments like this where it was painfully apparent that neither of those things was true. Felix felt bad for Kyle and was impressed that he managed to make "underwear model" sound like an insult.

Kyle didn't want Felix's sympathy, and he wouldn't appreciate him pointing out that Will and Nico were a great couple either. So Felix just rolled his eyes as he commented sarcastically, "And you're not bitter at all."

Kyle just ignored him and huffed, "The cute guy with the curls."

"Who?" Felix questioned before looking back toward the table again. There was only one person there with curls, but Kyle couldn't have been talking about him, right? "Cecil?"

"That's even a cute name!" Kyle cooed.

What the fuck was happening? Felix thought to himself.

"No, it fucking isn't," Felix replied with absolute bewilderment. Felix liked Cecil but considering the guy wasn't a ninety-year-old man. His name didn't fit him at all. And since when did anyone comment on another person's name being cute?

Kyle glared at him again, which was really starting to feel like a weird turnaround in their friendship. "Who is he?" Kyle questioned. He didn't wait for Felix to answer. Instead, Kyle turned, so he looked back at the table again as he continued to ask questions. "Is he single? Is he gay?" Kyle's eyes lit up, and he turned to look at Felix again, "Please tell me he's gay!"

Of all the things Felix had expected to happen that night, he could honestly say Kyle finding a new crush, at first sight, wasn't one of them. He didn't know how he felt about it either. He was all for Kyle moving on from the idea of Will because that was never going to happen, and Kyle was a cool enough guy and deserved to be happy, but another fucking demigod, really? That was not something Kyle wanted to get dragged into. The guy was fucking attracted to trouble, and he didn't even fucking know it. The worse thing about it, Felix knew exactly why Kyle shouldn't get his hopes up, but he couldn't say shit about it.

"Oh my god," Felix groaned and rolled his eyes, "You are fucking hopeless." Hopefully, Kyle would take that statement to mean that Cecil was straight and would just let it go. "Come on, I'll introduce you," he stated and waved for him to follow.

They walked back to the table. At some point, Kyle ended up a few steps behind him like he was fucking hiding or something, which was especially dumb because Kyle was the same height as Dean, so he was at least a head taller than Felix.

"Hey, what did we miss?" Felix questioned as he went right back to his seat next to Dean. That, of course, was the moment he realized that the only empty chair left was between himself and Cecil. That was inconvenient but not nearly as annoying as Kyle sharply poking him in the back the moment Felix had sat down. The point was taken, so Felix gestured to Kyle to do the whole introduction thing. "Oh yeah, this is Kyle," Felix then gestured around the table without much enthusiasm as he continued, "You've met Nico and know Will, and that's Will's friend Cecil."

"Hey," Kyle greeted with a bit of wave and a smile. Of course, he seemed to look at Will and Cecil and completely ignored Nico's very existence. Baby steps, Felix guessed.

There were waves and a few greetings. Nico might have seemed a little less enthused, which was kind of funny. Felix remembered hearing some vague story about Nico putting a skeleton in some guy's bed because he showed an interest in Will. Maybe that was what Kyle needed.

"Again, sorry we took so long," Will offered, apparently unaware of Nico's subtle disapproval of Kyle's presence. "We had kind of a hard time finding a place to park."

"They were arguing about Will's driving and kept driving past parking spots," Cecil informed with a smirk.

It was an amusing thought. Felix had never really seen the two bicker before. Usually, they were too busy being all over each other to do things like that. Felix didn't get to enjoy his amusement long because Kyle had to chime in. "These two did that too!" he exclaimed with far too much excitement as he pointed at Dean and Felix. The pointing especially seemed unnecessary, considering it was obvious who he was talking about.

Nico smirked slightly in a way Felix guessed was sort of mysterious. He didn't see it personally, but that didn't really matter. "That doesn't surprise me," he commented knowingly.

"We don't bicker…like….at all," Felix defended, and it was the truth. He and Dean could easily break into lively debates over absolutely meaningless shit, and Felix was pretty sure most of the time they both dug down on their side to drag it out, but that wasn't bickering. Hell, at times, that was practically fucking foreplay. Felix couldn't see how it could be mistaken for actual fighting.

"Oh, I know," Nico admitted, "It's just in my limited experience Dean's driving is…interesting."

"Bad," Will interjected, "Dean's driving is bad."

"You didn't complain when I drove you to school every day," Dean commented even though he didn't have the heat behind his words for them to have any real impact.

Nico seemed to ignore Dean and Will's little exchange and focused his attention on Felix as he continued, "And you have a tendency to be….vocal."

Felix really didn't know how to take that. If it were anyone else, he would have probably taken offense, but with Nico, he just couldn't. Nico wasn't the type to sling insults, or at least that Felix was aware. So he was at a complete loss, and if it had been a year earlier, Felix would have covered his bewilderment with some comment that would have come out way more hostile than he meant it to be, but Felix was really fucking trying to be better than that. Instead, he tried to make a joke out of it by turning to Dean with a fake look of outrage and questioning, "Did your cousin just call me a screamer?"

"I don't think so," Dean replied, although he didn't sound as certain as he probably should have, "But I could see how it could sound that way."

"Well, are you?" Kyle questioned with a laugh in his voice and a smirk on his face before Felix could even think of something else to say.

Felix wasn't overly loud in bed. Of that, Felix was sure. Actually, Dean was louder, at least when he bottomed, and even then, Felix wouldn't call Dean a screamer. There was no way Felix was explaining any of that to Kyle, and Kyle knew it. That was probably why he asked, to get a bit of a rise out of him.

Felix responded with a glare that, in reality, didn't have as much heat behind it as it would have it was anyone else that asked.

Dean missed the memo about not answering questions about their sex life because he gave it a moment's thought before answering, "Not normally."

Felix actually wouldn't have cared if he could have been classified as a screamer. All that would mean was he was vocal while enjoying sex. Sex was amazing, so why shouldn't he be vocal about it? Also, he knew he loved it when Dean got loud during sex because it usually meant he was losing his damn mind from the fucking pleasure, and that was sexy as fuck. That didn't stop him from giving Dean a 'What the hell man?' look. If nothing else, it gave Felix something to tease Dean about later, which was always fun.

Nico chuckled, and it was hard to tell if it was from amusement or nerves. It could have been both. "I just meant you don't seem to be shy about giving your opinion," he offered.

It was really fucking hard to take anything Nico said as offensive, but Felix was pretty sure if anyone else said that to him, he would have been bothered. "I guess," he muttered in reluctant agreement.

"Yeah, that's very true," Dean agreed, maybe a little more enthusiastically than was really warranted, at least in Felix's opinion, "Also, irrelevant because I wasn't the one driving."

"Oh," Nico exclaimed with obvious surprise, "I retract my previous statement then. What were you arguing about then?"

"Parking," Felix answered.

Kyle hissed like he had something to say about that, but Felix shot him a look because he really didn't need Kyle offering his opinion on the matter. That was enough for Kyle to think better of it. "Well, parking was definitely part of it."

Dean was smart enough to remain silent on the topic, and Kyle already seemed to be distracted by making eyes at Cecil (and Cecil seemed more into that than Felix would have liked). Felix guessed it was better than Kyle just spending the night openly ogling Will, so he let it go for the moment being.

Nico was quick to offer a change of topic. "Is someone going to come to take our order?" he asked as he looked around expectant.

Considering what Nico looked like and what he did for a living, Felix imagined he usually didn't even have to order a drink at a bar. People probably just brought him drinks in hopes that he would acknowledge their existence. Nico did seem like a down-to-earth guy, so Felix figured he wouldn't expect something like that, but he was probably just used to that sort of thing.

"This isn't Gladiators," Will reminded, "I think we have to go to the bar."

Not entirely surprising, Nico looked confused by the idea, which confirmed what Felix had suspected. He was a smart guy, so Felix was pretty sure he would figure it out. Besides, there was still a chance someone would present him with a drink in the hopes of getting a chance to bang an underwear model before he ever made it to the bar.

"The bartender barely looks at your ID, so it isn't a big deal," Kyle assured.

Good for him, Felix thought. He could tell Kyle was trying to be nice even though he disliked Nico at least a little for the simple fact that Will and Nico were dating.

"Perfect," Cecil declared as he pulled a wallet out of his pocket and dropped it on the table before moving to another pocket and producing another wallet. Cecil made at least half a dozen wallets from various places on his person appear in a matter of thirty seconds. "Let's see what I have to work with."

Cecil started flipping through the wallets in front of them in a way that made it very clear that he had some experience with that sort of thing. That reminded Felix that Cecil was the child of Hermes, and Hermes is the god of thieves. He wasn't sure if he should be horrified or amused by what he was seeing.

The look on Kyle's face was definitely tipping it more into the amusing category. He was clearly fluctuating between absolute shock and confusion, and his expressions were so extremely exaggerated it reminded Felix of a cartoon.

To Kyle's credit, he didn't stay silent, but that wasn't surprising. Kyle usually didn't have a problem speaking his mind. "Um…." Kyle hummed and then pointed toward the pile of wallets on the table, "Are all of those your wallets?"

Kyle continued to flip through the wallets, pulling out IDs and credit cards as he did. "Well, I mean, they are in my possession now," he offered. Pausing briefly after tossing one of the IDs aside, and looked up just a little in Kyle's direction. Felix thought he saw the smallest of flirtatious smiles spread across Cecil's face directed toward Kyle, but that couldn't have the case. "And you know what they say about that," he offered.

So stolen. That was pretty much what Felix had figured. Even if he didn't know Cecil was the demigod child of the god of thieves, it was more than evident. Will apparently wasn't so quick on the uptake because he sounded genuinely outraged when he shouted disapprovingly, "Cecil!"

"You know I can pay for everything, right?" Nico offered without clearly as much shock and outrage in his voice.

"That isn't the point," Cecil returned as he tossed the last of the wallets aside. He looked up and seemed to talk more to Will than anyone else even though he had a captive audience in Kyle from its looks. "It's about the challenge, and the guys around here are not much of a challenge."

"It's a gay bar," Felix reminded as he tried to contain a laugh, "Most guys are expecting a little fucking groping." That wasn't true for Felix, at least not in the sense of a stranger. Now Dean was another fucking story, and hopefully, that was how the night would end. But there were plenty of guys in the bar, and Felix had his money on the vast majority looking to hook up.

Next to him, Felix heard Dean laugh. "He isn't wrong," he admitted.

Cecil just shrugged unapologetically, "That doesn't mean they shouldn't mind their wallets."

Felix was fucking flashing forward to when Will and Nico had kids because the look of disappointment and disapproval on Will's face reminded Felix of disapproving parent. "That isn't a valid excuse for pickpocketing strangers," Will reprimanded.

"Don't worry, no one noticed," Cecil assured like that was the problem, the getting caught part and not the actual pickpocketing part. Felix almost laughed at Cecil's bravado. The thing was, Felix's dad thought he was studying at Kyle's, and if he found out Felix was really at a gay bar with Dean, Felix would be grounded for a fucking eternity. So if Cecil got caught pickpocketing people, that could present some problems. Cecil clearly didn't see the issue as he smiled brightly. "I'm very good," he stated with confidence.

Will's brain had apparently broke at some point because his only response was to stare at Cecil slack-jawed. Felix would think since Will and Cecil had been friends for a while, Will wouldn't have been so surprised. He got the feeling this was pretty standard for Cecil. Nico at least didn't seem overly surprised or worried about it. If anything, he seemed sort of amused by the whole thing, but it could be hard to tell with Nico.

"I'm going to get a drink," Nico declared as he hopped down from his chair. He looked between Will and Cecil briefly before asking, "Do you both just want a beer?"

"Sure," Cecil replied as he started to tuck away the various wallets he had collected into his pockets, "Thanks, Nico."

"Um, I guess," Will muttered uncertainly. Felix was pretty sure Will was just still too distracted by Cecil's kleptomania because it was seriously out of his character for him not to jump up to follow Nico around immediately.

You would think that Will simply refraining from following Nico around like a lovesick puppy would have been enough for Kyle but not. At least some part of his horny teenage brain viewed Nico as competition or at the very least as something close to an advisory which was just incredibly stupid, to say the least. Kyle decided that was the moment to get what seemed like it was meant as a dig. "Do you even have a fake ID?" Kyle asked Nico with almost a disgusting amount of doubt.

"No," Nico replied, "But I don't foresee that being a problem."

No one in their right fucking mind would look at Nico and believe he was twenty-one; of that, Felix was fucking sure. That didn't mean he didn't think Nico was probably right about his lack of an ID not being a problem. Not only was Nico good-looking, which seemed to go a pretty far way, but he also had a 'Don't fuck with me or else' vibe that was pretty fucking hard to argue with. Felix would bet the bartender wouldn't even bother to ask Nico for an ID.

Kyle at least had the common sense not to push the topic further, which satisfied Nico greatly if the glint in his eye and the slight grin that spread across his face was any indication. It wasn't an over-the-top expression by any means because it was fucking Nico. Felix was pretty sure the guy didn't know how to do over the top, or at least that kind of over the top. Even subtle, it was noticeable enough  

It probably didn't help that after giving Kyle a few seconds of his victory face, Will decided to jump into the conversation in full lovesick puppy mode. Felix got that Will was oblivious to Kyle's lingering crush on him even though he had been told on multiple occasions, but how he missed the little exchange between Kyle and Nico, Felix didn't fucking understand. He had most definitely missed it never the less.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Will asked Nico.

"I'm sure I can handle it on my own," Nico replied with a shrug, "But if you want to, I could use the extra pair of hands."

That was all Will needed to hear. He hopped out of his chair like a tiger from Winnie the Pooh or some shit. "Be right back," he declared quickly before trotting after Nico as he headed toward the bar.

They watched the two walk-offs for a few seconds before they were lost to the crowd. "Oh, codependence," Felix commented dryly in hopes of cutting off any of Kyle's potential pouting. "I'm so glad that isn't a family trait because I'm pretty sure I would murder you," he added with a humorless smile directed at Dean.

Felix wasn't actually all that worried about that sort of thing. He and Dean were pretty independent, so neither would take on the relationship's lost puppy role. Sure, between texting and phone calls, they probably talked for hours most days, and Dean had been trying to talk Felix into applying to Berkeley so they could be at the same school, but that was just….different.

Next to him, Felix heard Kyle snicker at that comment. He was fucking loud about it, so Felix wouldn't have been surprised if half the fucking bar heard. Felix couldn't help but turn to look at him, and the amused fucking grin on his face was just even more fucking confusion.

What the fuck did I miss?

Felix probably should have just let it go but hated feeling like everyone knew something he didn't. "What?" he asked as he stared at Kyle critically.

"Nothing," Kyle assured, but he sounded far too amused to be even remotely believed. Before Felix could push any further, Kyle had already turned his attention to Cecil and changed the subject. "Um, so Cecil, what brings you to Tennessee?" Kyle asked with a smile. He was clearly trying to be friendly, but it was over the top, so Felix found it awkward. It was also pretty out of character for Kyle. It was an interesting development, to say the least.

"Oh, Will invited me to Thanksgiving," Cecil answered with a bit of a shrug, "And Nico insisted. Saying no to Nico seems kind of …."

"Dangerous?" Felix offered without even thinking about it. Nico was actually really nice, but he was also scary as fuck. Felix wouldn't want to tell him no either.

Dean was less than a second behind with an equally valid suggestion, "Terrifying?"

"Yeah," Cecil agreed with a laugh, "Pretty much."

"So, you had no choice," Felix summed up. He paused to sip at his beer before adding, "Only legitimate reason to come to Tennessee."

"Hey!" Dean immediately protested, "I honestly don't know how to take that."

Felix looked at Dean to find him staring back, looking genuinely outraged. Maybe that should have made Felix feel at least a little guilty because of that, but honestly, he found it a little funny. He didn't actually laugh, but it was a close call. "You should be fine with it," he retorted. "I can hate the state I met you in and still love you," Felix explained matter-of-factly before taking another sip of his beer.

Dean's reaction was precisely what Felix had hoped for. He grinned from ear to ear. "You love me? Really?" Dean leaned over and made a real fucking show of kissing Felix on the cheek, "Because I definitely love you."

It wasn't like Felix wasn't used to Dean being affectionate. He wasn't used to Dean being so openly affectionate in such a large crowd, but around friends was normal enough. He still blushed at it, which officially killed any chance he had to even try to play it cool. That didn't mean he wasn't going to try, but it did mean he knew going in it wouldn't work.

"God, you've had like two sips of beer," Felix grumbled under his breath even as his cheeks continued to burn, "You can't be like this already."

"So," Cecil point at them while looking at Kyle, "They are just as bad as Will and Nico?"

"Um," Kyle hummed, still being a bit awkward about the whole thing, "I'm more used to these two, but yeah, they're pretty cutesy."

Felix swallowed down the urge to argue that by taking a large sip of his drink. Dean got kind of cutesy when he had a few drinks in him, but otherwise, they weren't like that at all. Besides the few affectionate gestures, they acted just like they did when they were just friends. He even got Kyle to admit that he claimed that didn't mean they weren't cutesy a few times. It wasn't worth arguing about, Felix was sure, so once he swallowed his drink, he went to change the topic. "Alright, Cee," Felix declared, "Why did Will drag to this great state for the great food holiday?" The state of Tennessee might have sucked by Will's mom was a fucking fantastic cook. In Felix's opinion, her cooking rivaled the food at Camp Half-Blood, so at least Cecil was in for a treat.

"Sympathy, I guess," Cecil replied with a shrug, "He's making a bigger deal over the breakup than either me or Lou are."

Felix opened his mouth to say without even thinking about the fact that he would be outing Cecil. Luckily Dean saved him from accidentally spilling the beans before Felix got a chance. "You guys broke up?" Dean questioned with great disappointment in his voice, "Sorry to hear that."

"It's cool," Cecil assured a little awkwardly before adding, "We are better friends."

Felix guessed that was one way to put it, considering that Cecil was gay. He guessed Cecil had finally worked up the nerve to end his fake relationship but not enough to tell people he was gay. Felix wasn't judging, but he figured pretending to be upset about a breakup would get old fucking fast.

"That's a positive attitude to have," Kyle chimed in, and suddenly the awkward energy he had just a few moments before was gone, and Kyle seemed way too excited to hear about Cecil's break.

Felix liked Kyle, but the boy was beyond fucking obvious. How anyone thought he was straight, Felix would never fucking understand. He also had horrible taste in guys. First, he spends years drooling over Will, and now he was getting hot and bothered over Cecil. Sure, Cecil was an improvement but still.

Cecil sort of smiled at Kyle, and it struck Felix that this might be a problem. Luckily Nico and Will decided that was the moment to reappear, drinks in hand, and they interrupted the whole thing before either Kyle or Cecil could attempt any awkward flirting that Felix would have to stop.

"We are back," Nico declared as he placed his drink on the table before pushing himself up into his chair.

"And we have drinks," Will declared from half a step behind Nico, holding up the two beers he was carrying as proof. He placed one beer in front of his seat before placing the other squarely in front of Cecil. "There was actually a guy about to send you a drink," Will told Cecil as he took his seat. He waved his hand in what Felix was sure was met to be a reassuring gesture as he added, "Don't worry, I told him you were straight."

Felix had to physically bite his tongue to stop himself from calling Will a cock block which made him wonder if this was going to be a problem. They were in a fucking gay bar, and Cecil wasn't a horrible-looking guy. If Will was going to keep help his friend out by explaining Cecil was straight, Felix didn't know if he would be able to take it. He was going to slip up and say something he shouldn't and outing Cecil like a fucking asshole.

Maybe he just had a lot of practice because he had to lie about all the demigod stuff, but Cecil did an impressive job of hiding any disappointment or frustration he might have been feeling. "Thanks," he replied. He wasn't exactly enthusiastic, but he didn't sound annoyed either.

"Um…..," Kyle hummed, which matched the confused look he was wearing quite well. His one finger in the air to signal he had a question was a bit much but to each their own.

"Lou is short for Lou Ellen," Dean offered quickly.

Kyle, unlike Cecil, did not school his emotions at all. The guy visibly deflated as he tried to cover (poorly) by saying, "Oh, that's an interesting name."

Felix had to admit that he did feel a little bad. Kyle was a cool enough guy, and he really shouldn't have to wait until college to date. But, at the same time, it really was for the best. Kyle did not need all that crazy demigod shit in his life. It was better for him just to think Cecil was straight than for Felix to have to play interference all night.

[spencerspecifics]

Badass lady from SWAT coming and Spence always gets nervous about seeing her even though it’s painfully obviously that she feels the same way :) but Spencer is just baby af 🥺

I think this idea is so cute, and I hope I did you justice!! Thank you for requesting, i made it a fem!reader x Spencer fic :)! (So sorry this took forever!)

———————————————————————

SWAT

———————————————————————

You walked into the bureau building tiredly, you were grateful the events of yesterday had somehow wrapped themself up into a neat little bow. But now, you had the aftermath to deal with.

The aftermath of beauacracies, of files and paperwork, of court hearings. Because yesterday was a lot. There was an attempted bombing in downtown Quantico. Key word being attempted, thankfully though- it never happened. And your SWAT team had a big hand in helping.

So yeah, now you were here, meeting up with the BAU- who had lended your team a helping hand in finding where the bomber was located.

~

You entered into the bureau building, making your way up to the BAU’s floor through the elevator. As the machine whirred to life, taking you up to the floor- you were suddenly hit with the fatigue.

You were tired, you had worked nonstop yesterday to prevent a catastrophe, and then when you got home, you couldn’t sleep- who could expect you to? Especially after something like that, your mind was racing. You did eventually get to sleep at around 3 in the morning, but that didn’t help much considering you had to meet with agent Aaron Hotchner at 8 a.m. sharp.

So, fuck. The adrenaline and anxiety of the events had passed, and now you were feeling tired.

It’s not like you could do much about how sleepy you were, though. You had to talk to Hotchner, then you had to speak to their technical analyst to help you input your files into VICAP (SWAT’s computer system wasn’t as fancy as the bureau’s, so you weren’t fully familiar with the system.) but then, maybe after you spoke to the analyst you could get some coffee and go home. That would be nice.

~

The elevator got to your stop, and you stepped out with ease. You hadn’t been in the BAU’s office before, but the layout was simple. Bullpen was straight forward, there was a hallway past that (but you weren’t sure where that exactly led to, you supposed you’d find that answer out when the time came.) and you could see the larger offices past the bullpen, you were guessing that’s where you needed to go.

You entered through the glass doors into the bullpen, there were a few agents sat behind their desks, on phone calls or typing out on their computers- after all, the aftermath was always a lot of work.

~

You didn’t really know anyone in the BAU, except for Aaron Hotchner, Derek Morgan, and one very awkward guy- Doctor Spencer Reid.

You met Spencer a while ago, a few cases back when there was a local robbery turned hostage situation. That’s when your teams first interacted. As a local law enforcement group, you weren’t used to working with the feds- but the BAU was surprisingly tolerable. They let you and the police do what was necessary, all they did was observe and figure things out.

But how they figured things out, you’d never understand. You’d especially never understand Spencer, he would walk into a crime scene and be able to figure out the unsub’s mental state just by how the room was organized. It was surprising, and it was fascinating.

Though, that wasn’t the only reason Spencer especially took your attention when you first met the BAU. The other agents you met were very cut and dry, their personalities were kept mostly separate from their work. Spencer wasn’t like that, his work self and his regular self were one and the same. It was refreshing to see an agent so personable, you found it as a handsome quality.

He was awkward at times as well, which you thought was also an adorable quality. He’d go on to in depth explain a behavioral trait and how that probably meant the unsub was abused as a child or something, and before you knew it the conversation somehow shifted into his favorite medieval weaponry.

So whenever you got the chance to work with the BAU, you embraced it. Mostly because of the cute and awkward doctor, but also because if that meant you could solve a case and arrest a sick son of a bitch, you would.

~

You walked through the bullpen, making your way up the stairs to the larger offices you had seen earlier. You looked for a sign on the door to tell you whose office was whose, and thankfully the first door you saw said in simple lettering “SSA Aaron Hotchner”.

You knocked, hearing agent Hotchner’s voice say a simple “come in”. You opened the door, stepping into his large office.

“Agent Hotchner, good morning.” You said, a polite smile on your face as you made your way to the nearest seat across from his desk, Hotchner rose from his seat to give you a handshake. All these manners and rules were so tiring to do, but you could understand why- especially in such a beauracractic setting. Maybe that’s why you loved being in SWAT, though. There was no time for niceties or manners. You just got to go in, kick ass, and go.

“Good morning, y/n.” He replied as he sat back down into his chair, he reached down to a desk drawer, pulling out a fresh file.

“We just have to recount everything from your point of view, just so the bureau understands what the SWAT’s role was in our investigation.” He spoke as he reached for a nearby audio recorder on his desk, pressing the button on its side to turn it on.

“Sounds good.” You nodded, “Great, I’ll be taking some notes within the file as well. Just start talking.” Hotchner explained simply, before quieting down. You took a breath in before starting to speak, after all- the story was a long one.

~

Once you finished with Hotchner, you decided to wait on going to their technical analyst. After all, they were probably swamped at the moment. So, as you headed out of Hotch’s office, you weren’t sure what to do.

But then, it hit you.

It literally did hit you, and by “it”, it was Spencer. He was walking past Hotchner’s office at the same time you were exiting- you both practically collapsed into each other as the unexpected forces pushed against each other.

“Oh- shit! Sorry.” You apologized almost immediately, trying your best to pull yourself together. You were running on only about four hours of sleep, you were well aware you looked like shit- you were just hoping Spencer couldn’t tell.

“Y/n, I’m sorry- I was on my way to Rossi’s, I didn’t mean to-“ Spencer started, rambling again. And as much as you found it endearing, you didn’t want him to apologize.

“Don’t even worry about it, Spencer- you alright?” You asked him as you stepped back a bit to give him more room. He nodded, you’d swear there was a small blush on his face, but maybe it was the terrible fluorescent lighting off the office that was making it appear that way.

“I’m alright, thank you.” He smiled sheepishly, looking down to adjust the strap on his messenger bag.

“Thanks for your help with yesterday, by the way. I still have no clue how geoprofiling works, but it saved the day.” You complimented him, his sheepish smile only got larger.

“Well, we still couldn’t have done it without your SWAT team. I didn’t go in to stop the bomber- you did. That takes courage.”

Now you felt yourself blushing, maybe it was because you were so sleep deprived. But you had a feeling it might be for another reason as well. You just shrugged, though, doing your best to be casual about it.

“That’s what I train for, all part of a day’s work.”

Spencer nodded, “Still, though. It doesn’t make you any less courageous.”

You broke into a small grin, god- you’ve only spoken to this guy a handful of times. But you really enjoyed talking to him, and he seemed interested in talking to you.

“What are your plans after work?” You found yourself asking, mouth moving too fast for your brain to tell it to shut up in time.

“Uh, I don’t know..” Spencer started, awkwardly fumbling with his hands. “I just had to talk to Rossi, but then after that I’m free to go.”

“You already did all your paperwork?” You asked him curiously, surprised at how fast he could get it done. He nodded simply, “Yes, I didn’t really sleep a lot last night- so I got a head start.”

You frowned slightly, “How much sleep did you end up getting?” Spencer shrugged, “A couple hours.” You nodded silently, before the gears in your mind started turning.

“What do you think about coffee?” You asked him after a beat of silence, Spencer’s face twisted into a confused look.

“The concept of coffee?” He was lost, and it was adorable. You chuckled, “No- I meant, do you wanna get coffee with me after you finish talking to Rossi? I didn’t sleep enough last night either.”

Spencer nodded almost immediately in response, “Yes- yeah. That would be great, I would really enjoy that- you could, um, wait down in the bullpen if you want.” He offered, obviously unsure of what to do now.

You just found that once again, endearing, as you smiled at him kindly. “Sounds good, I’m excited.” You told him, he gave you one last smile before turning to go into Rossi’s office.

With that, you turned to go back to go down to the bullpen, waiting for Doctor Spencer Reid.

———————————————————————

[writingwithadinosaur]

“Under the Knife” - Part 9

“Under the Knife” - Part 9

My Masterlist - Here

Story Masterlist - Here

My Tag List - Here

Hannibal Lecter x Reader, Will Graham x Sister!Reader

Word Count: 4,300-ish

Key: Chunks of text in italics are (Y/N)’s thoughts. Y/N = Your Name, H/C = Your Hair Color, E/C = Your Eye Color

Warnings: Cursing, Violence, Torture, Stress/Anxiety

Summary: You are Will Graham’s sister who works with him at the FBI. When you get offered a job promotion, life starts to change. Some changes for the better; Some for the worst.

Author’s Note: This is it! The big moment! There will be one more chapter after this! 

Thank you all so much for the love and support this story has provided. I haven’t gotten this good of a reaction to my writing in awhile and it honestly moved me to tears and motivated me to write more. So from the bottom of my heart, thank you thank you thank you.

This is beta-read by @theeactress​, but please let me know if there is something that we missed or that we should look at again! 

If you would like to be tagged in any of my future pieces, check out my tag list above and let me know! And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

<3

- DreaSaurusREX

Tag List: @fruitloopzzz @theeactress @melconnor2007 @ashenfallsof @geeksareunique @all-by-myself98 @sj-thefan​ @fuck-your-bad-vibes-dude​ @ntlmundy​ @a-person-unlabled​ @germansarechill​ @rentheanonymous​ @liadamerondjarin

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Good evening, Henry.” Hannibal appeared to be calm despite the fact that a literal serial killer was in his dining room with a loaded pistol. 

You on the other hand could barely breathe. It was as if your lungs had shrunk to half their natural size. Although it hurt, you forced yourself to take as close to normal breaths as you could. Panicking wouldn’t help the situation at all. Slowly, your hand found its way to your ring and you were able to focus all of your anxious energy there. 

Staying calm was easier with Hannibal here. While you couldn’t take your eyes off of Henry, who was still aiming his pistol at you, hearing and feeling Hannibal’s more placid presence kept you from losing it.

“May I ask why you are pointing a gun at my partner, Henry?” Hannibal monotone but amiable voice spoke. 

As much as you wanted to go over the fact that Hannibal had just called you his partner and distinguish which definition of ‘partner’ he meant, your focus was on Henry and trying to figure out how best to handle the situation.

“Let’s call it a precaution, Dr.Lecter.” Henry was looking at Hannibal, but then unsettlingly shifted his sights on you. “Now, (Y/N), I just want to talk.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to form words. You had no idea how to handle this situation. Figuring out the small details that a killer leaves behind at a crime scene or profiling a person based on their mannerisms was easy. But doing it in real time while the person in question has a fucking gun aimed at your chest? Where the hell do you even begin?

Hannibal saw your distress through your attempt at a neutral mask. He started to stand up and speak, trying to get the attention off of you long enough for you to figure something out.

“How about we--” Henry very quickly aimed the gun at Hannibal and shouted over him. You jumped in your seat and watched Hannibal’s interaction.

“Sit! Down!” There was obvious annoyance and anger in Henry’s voice. 

You tried to look at him as if he wasn’t physically there.

How would you advise an agent to interrogate someone like Henry? What would they have to be careful of? What buttons did he have that could be pushed for their advantage?

Hannibal held up his hands in an effort to show that he meant no harm (yet) as he slowly sat back down. Henry took off a backpack that you only just now realized he was wearing and blindly reached in, keeping his eyes on you and Hannibal. He quickly found what he was looking for and tossed it onto the table in front of you, landing on your plate. The noise of the heavy object hitting the porcelain made you jump again. 

“Shut him up.” You took a shaky breath as you looked down to what was thrown at you. A medium sized roll of duct tape had shoved your lemon covered salmon off your plate and left a crack underneath. “Go on, (Y/N)!” 

You took a deep breath in, knowing that if you didn’t do this simple thing, one of you was going to be shot. You couldn’t fight the shakiness in your hands that the adrenaline manifested itself as. Lifting up the tape you unwound a piece that was large enough to cover Hannibal’s mouth and please Henry. The screech of the tape made you tense up. 

Turning in your seat, you faced Hannibal. His face showed no sign of uncertainty. But when you looked into his eyes, you saw beneath his mask. He was worried, not about himself or the fact that Henry had gotten to the two of you. Instead, he was worried about you. 

“It’ll be alright, my love.” Hannibal spoke loud enough for you to hear. His words didn’t completely ease the intensity of the scene, but it did give you some hope. Hope that after all of this, you would be able to hear him call you that more often.

You nod and blink back the beginnings of tears that had wormed their way forward. Being as gentle as you could, you smoothed the tape onto Hannibal’s mouth, rendering him silent until the predator in the room allowed him to speak. You kissed his cheek before settling back down in your seat, you look back at Henry to see him pleased with your work.

“Now,” Henry moved closer to you, now within a couple feet and the gun even closer to your chest than you’d like. “I want to know what you think, Miss Graham.” 

Henry poked the gun at your shoulder on the word ‘you,’ causing you to fearfully close your eyes and let out a shaky breath through your nose. You couldn’t see, but Hannibal was watching with a careful gaze and a tensed jaw as Henry invaded your space. You attempted to look composed as you faced Henry.

“About what, Mr.Urik?”

“That’s Dr.Urik to you! And what else would I want to talk about? Me, of course!”

“Why do you want to know what I think about you, Dr.Urik? I’m not a doctor by any means.”

“I know you’re not a doctor. That is precisely why I want to know what you think of me and my work.” Henry lifted his free hand to put pressure on the left side of his head as he painfully closed his eyes. He was visibly getting annoyed that you weren’t giving him what he wanted quick enough, which you assumed was bringing back his headaches. 

This is good! Keep thinking like this! Just do what you would do if you were talking to Jack or Hannibal about Henry! Please him for now and maybe you can figure out a way to get out of this shit alive.

You look at Hannibal for reassurance. He nods his head slowly and takes a visibly bigger breath to try and encourage you to do the same. You mirror his movement and find your starting point.

“Well, the first thing I notice is that you’re early.”

“What do you mean?” You could tell that Urik was thrown off by your beginning statement even though he kept his eyes closed and rubbed the side of his head. Hannibal was watching with slight amusement as you tried to knowingly talk with a serial killer face-to-face. His mind worked on a way to disarm Henry and save you from the spotlight while you spoke.

“You’ve been pretty consistent with killing right around every two weeks. You still have a few days before the next two week mark. Which either means that you are getting addicted to the feeling, or your headaches are getting worse.”

At this, Henry’s eyes shot open and he leaned closer to you, pushing the barrel of the gun into your sternum.

“You said you’re not a doctor. So how the fuck--” The pain in your chest now elevated thanks to a literal gun being shoved against it while the unease of this whole show was taking its toll on your lung capacity. But you pushed through and interrupted him, giving him more information that you knew, refusing to give Henry the fear response that he craved and instead tried to go for an ‘understanding’ point of view.

“Dr.Everet was no help to you, so he referred you to Dr.Lecter for therapy after hearing that your medical practice was shut down for what I’m sure was bullshit reasoning, and an eye doctor to see if your headaches were correlated to something like an ocular migraine. But then your eye doctor, Dr.Chasten couldn’t find anything, leaving you deflated as you were then sent to another doctor, Dr.Loriet. He was supposed to find something in your inner ear or sinuses that could explain all of this. He is-- was an ENT specialist after all. You’d think he’d find something, right?”

“Exactly!” Henry pulled out the chair next to you and sat down, finally relieving the physical pressure of the gun off your sternum. “That asshole just ran his tests so he could take my money and then send me to another fucking ‘professional’ and have them do the same thing” 

You could tell that your angle of trying to talk to him as an equal was working as Henry settled in a bit comfortably in the chair. The only major hostile game piece was the gun that was still in play.

Hannibal knew what you were doing and was impressed. At this point, you were feeling slightly more confident in what you were saying and how you were saying it. You knew you still had a lot of work to do to maybe have a chance of getting you and Hannibal out of this alive, but it's better than no chance.

“And Dr.Pencalt, he--” You started as calmly as you could but Henry interrupted, sounding like a child who was in trouble and angry about it.

“Was a load of horseshit.” You turned to face Henry more, now sitting side saddle in the chair, a nonverbal trick to let him think that you were really interested in what he had to say. The only downside was that Hannibal was now completely out of your view behind you. 

“He was your last hope, wasn’t he?” At that, Henry’s leg started to bounce. Obviously that statement resonated something within him, he spoke louder and more emotional than before.

“Motherfucker was supposed to be the best of the best and finally run the procedures that I’ve been askin’ for since this pain started. A goddamn neurologist. He should have--” 

“He did the tests though, right?”

“He took my money, shoved me into machines, poked and prodded me, only to tell me the same shit that all of them were saying.” 

“That it's all in your head?” You crossed your legs and leaned forward just slightly, taking on a sort of motherly tone, trying to solicit a softer and non-lethal response from Henry. 

Apparently that didn’t work. 

Henry slammed his fist on the table, making you jump back in your seat, trying to get some distance away from him. You quickly looked over your shoulder to check on Hannibal. He quietly put a hand on your back for a moment; not only to keep you from falling backwards, but to also provide some comfort. Henry burst out, yelling louder than before, truly upset by your words bringing back memories. 

“Well of course it's in my head! They’re called headaches! So there has to be a reason they’re here and kicking my ass! And those bastards don’t want to tell me!” You could see angry tears forming in his eyes. 

Definitely not the reaction I was hoping for.

You heard movement behind you. It was very quiet, but you heard the fabric of Hannibal’s suit move. You weren’t sure what he was doing and you couldn’t look back to check and bring attention to it. When you look back at Henry’s eyes, you see them shift to Hannibal. Before he could look closer and see any movement, you shifted in your seat to cover Hannibal and try to distract Urik. 

“You-You’re using a gun for the first time! Which is different. Now I don’t think you actually plan on using that for both of us. You’re the Virginia Scalpel, not some lowlife gunman. But if you’re going to break your pattern and use that on anyone it would probably be… me. ” 

Luckily, with Henry being so emotionally all over the place, he was receptive to the attention you were giving him.

“You’re right. This is new. Brand new actually. It's called a Hardballer! You like it?” He sort of showed it off like a game show babe would show off a prize. The lights in Hannibal’s dining room shined off the stainless steel barrel and absorbed into the dark handle base. You feigned fascination to try and keep Henry happy.

“It's beautiful! I mean, I would like it more if it wasn’t aimed at me, but I guess it's nice given the circumstances.”

Henry made a face and then, much to your surprise, uncocked the gun and put it on the table behind him, far enough away where you nor Hannibal could reach it. You watched him carefully as he leaned closer to you, trying to figure out what he was planning on doing next. He got to a certain point where you had to turn your face away because of how close he was getting. You quickly made eye contact with a very tensed up Hannibal. His eyes looked like those of a wolf: Dark, hungry, and protective.

Hannibal had been somewhere in the middle of being a curious bystander and a possessive guardian. This pig was threatening someone that Hannibal deemed to be his, whether you knew it or not. And that was a dangerous game to play with him.

As quickly as you made eye contact with your love, you were snatched away. Warm and rough fingers tightly gripping your chin, forcing you to look at Urik. When your fear-filled eyes met his, you felt the threatening chill of a scalpel being pressed against your cheek.

“Would you prefer this instead, miss Graham? 

At this point, you couldn’t stop a dreadful tear slipping out and racing down your face, only to be met with the blade that was now pressing into your cheek. You felt the tip of the small knife poke through your skin just enough to start minor bleeding. A fear riddled whimper escaped your throat against your will. This kicked Hannibal into gear.

You heard motion behind you as Hannibal reached for the knife that he was using to cut into his salmon just a few moments ago. You braced yourself for whatever Hannibal was planning, expecting something to happen from behind you. Instead, you felt the scalpel drag through your cheek and across the cheekbone, earning you a lengthy gash. Henry had stood up and brought his knife up to point directly at Hannibal’s throat.

“Ah-ah-ah. Hands where I can see them, doctor. You’ll have your turn. Right now, I want to talk more with (Y/N).” You heard the knife drop behind you, Henry then taking the time to swipe away everything in front of Hannibal, leaving him weaponless.

You were now visibly shaking, something you were trying to avoid, knowing it would just fuel Henry. But you were losing hope in your ability to get out of this alive. You couldn’t see it, but Hannibal was furious that he couldn’t do anything to help you without putting your life at risk. 

You were looking down, so you didn’t see the scalpel coming back towards your face. You had to stop yourself from jerking as you felt the cool metal under your chin, pushing your face up to look at your killer who stood in front of you now. 

“Stand up.” Henry commanded as he turned the surgical knife so now the sharp edge was against the underside of your chin making you stand slowly; afraid that if you went too quick, the scalpel would find its home in your throat.

With the risks being as high as they were now, you followed him until you could figure out another tactic or if Hannibal could somehow find a way to get out. The two of you didn’t go far; only a few steps from the table. Henry turned you around so you now faced Hannibal with your back pressed against Henry’s chest and the knife pushed against your throat. Hannibal could now see the few tears that had fallen and mixed with the blood that was slowly coming from the cut on your cheek. No one could see it in his eyes, but the primal and murderous rage was building inside of him, close to bursting. He just needed a clear path.

“You know, there is a reason as to why I kill the wives so quickly.” Henry spoke in your ear but still loud enough for Hannibal to hear, obviously an intimidation technique.

“Oh really?” Your voice wavered near the end.

“People say that a quick death is considered a mercy, which would mean that life is technically a form of torture. I am saving these partners from a tortuous life created by their husbands.”

“You do realize that Hannibal and I aren’t married, right?” You look at Hannibal and see him tilt his head slightly. 

To Henry, it looked like he was just making a movement to show he agreed with you. But you followed his head and his eyes to a point on the floor. When Henry had knocked everything off the table, he had failed to realize that a knife had fallen on the floor a foot and a few feet away from Hannibal. You took a deep breath in and gave a minuscule nod, which Hannibal read perfectly.

We’re getting out of this.

“Yes. But I also realize that there is that connection between you two.” As much as you detested Henry, you had to agree with him on this. There was a connection that you and Hannibal had that the two of you couldn’t ignore anymore. “And that's good enough for me.”

You felt Henry lock his feet in place, preparing to slice open your neck just like how you saw on Mrs.Pencalt. Before you could think too much, you blurted out the first thing that popped into your mind.

“I’m sorry, Henry!” You felt Henry stutter and stop out of confusion.

“What are you sorry for?” 

“For making your headache worse.”

Before he could fully process what you had said, you threw your head backward, pounding right into his forehead. Henry dropped his hand from your throat and pressed both of them to his head to try to ease the pain that had now grown exponentially. You pushed through the throbbing pain that radiated across the back of your head and elbowed him in his diaphragm, causing him to lean forward in pain as you launched towards the table. 

Henry forced himself to stand straight and try to refocus on you, letting out a string of expletives as he did. You quickly got to the gun, aimed, and pulled the trigger.

But nothing happened. No loud bang. No thud of a body hitting the ground. Nothing.

The gun was empty this whole fucking time.

You froze for a second, but that second cost you this fight. Henry grabbed you by your hair and swiftly crashed your head onto the table, knocking you unconscious.

Before Henry could end your life then and there, Hannibal expertly threw the knife from the floor at Henry, landing it in his left thigh. As he dropped his hold on you and his scalpel, Hannibal quickly stalked up to Henry; a true predator coming in to play with their food before the final kill. 

A tight fist meets Henry’s abdomen, knocking the wind out of him. As Henry leans forward in pain, he is met with Hannibal’s knee rushing to Henry’s face, surely breaking his nose. As he is bent down further, Henry reaches into his pocket and finds the syringe he had prepared earlier. He gets a better grasp of it before heaving himself at Hannibal, aiming the needle at his neck.

Hannibal quickly stepped to the side and caught Henry’s hand with the syringe in it. He bent Henry’s arm back until there was a loud pop and a scream of pain, resulting in Henry dropping the tube full of paralyzer into Hannibal's open hand. 

Henry felt a new wave of anger as his plan was falling apart.

With this second wind, Henry pulled the knife out of his leg with his uninjured hand and slashed at Hannibal, getting a slice across Hannibal’s hand. The unexpected cut caused Hannibal to recoil and let go of Henry’s wrist, but still managed to kick a heavy foot into the now open wound in Henry’s thigh. Henry faltered, giving Hannibal enough time to take the syringe and stick it into Henry’s neck, emptying the entirety of its contents into his system.

As Henry cried out in pain and involuntarily stumbled backwards, Hannibal walked close to where you were laying on the floor. He knew Henry dropped his scalpel near you. Hannibal was trying to keep his mind calm and focused on “handling” his unwelcome guest, but then his gaze fell on your limp body. Seeing you unconscious and not being able to clearly see if you were alive or not sent him over the edge. 

He would come to your side in just a minute. For now, he picked up the knife, ripped the duct tape from his mouth, and let the familiar bloodlust consume him.

Henry was mid-charge, kitchen knife in hand, when Hannibal kicked his leg out straight and knocked Henry on his ass once again. Hannibal sauntered closer as Henry wobbled, trying to get to his feet but finding it progressively harder and harder to get his muscles to move at his command. Nevertheless, Henry kept attacking even though he could almost no longer bend his right leg.

Hannibal could see just how quickly the paralytic was coursing through his victim, obviously some sort of mutated version of the basic drug in order to quicken the effects. He let a devious smirk flash on his face, causing a twitch of fear to soar through Henry’s heart for a second as he tried to lunge at Hannibal, knife aimed and ready to land in the middle of Hannibal’s chest. 

Before the kitchen knife could come close to Hannibal’s sternum, he reached and grabbed his wrist, twisting it harshly down to his side and pointed away from any potential contact, expecting Henry to drop the knife. Henry screamed but didn’t let go. He couldn’t let go. More and more of his body was being inhibited. Hannibal took this opportunity to follow in your footsteps and worsen Henry’s headache more. 

The quick but painful clash was enough to disorient Henry. He could barely even try to recover when Hannibal plunged the scalpel into Henry’s shoulder, using all of his force to dig it in further and further until he could feel the metal hit bone.

The kitchen knife dropped next to him as the scalpel went further and further into him. He looked down and chuckled, the effects of the paralytic kicking in.

“There is something ironic about the Virginia Scalpel being killed by his own tools. Don’t you think, Dr.Lecter?”

“I supposed there is. Or perhaps it is like you said, Dr.Urik: Life can be perceived as a form of torture. Yours has been torturous for you and others for long enough.” 

“Perfect.” Henry had used the last bit of muscle control he had left to get the last word and let out a pathetic chuckle.

Hannibal could feel Henry’s muscles tensing up and freezing, allowing him to toss Henry against a wall and watch him fall to the floor, unconscious and powerless. He took two quick deep breaths before rushing to your side.

He gently picked up your wrist and searched for a pulse. Once he found one, he let out a breath that he wasn’t aware that he was holding. He kept a hold of your wrist as he found his phone and dialed Jack Crawford’s number, letting your pulse be a grounding point for him. Hannibal was usually more put together during killings, but the added factor of your life being in danger threw him off his rhythm. 

“Dr.Lecter, I don’t have any update for you. I will let you know as soon as I--”

“I’m afraid I have an update for you, Jack. Henry Urik was in my home this evening. He attacked (Y/N) and me.” Hannibal looked away from you for a moment to glance at Urik’s stiff but barely breathing body against the wall. He took a deep breath in, making it sound like a defeated sigh. “Henry fled after I fought with him. He is injured, but he escaped and I do not know where he went.” 

“Are you alright?” Jack was now aware of the severity of the situation. Hannibal could hear him moving from wherever he was, preparing to make his way to Hannibal’s home.

“I have some minor injuries. But I’m afraid (Y/N) needs an ambulance. She is unconscious and most likely has a concussion. I’m doing what I can to stabilize her until we can get her to a hospital.” Hannibal reached up on the table and grabbed one of the cloth napkins, using it to clean up and apply some pressure to the slice that Henry had created on your face. 

“I’ll be there with a med team and backup soon.” Jack hung up as soon as the last syllable came out. Hannibal put his phone on the table. He then lightly caressed your face, bowing down and kissing your forehead before standing up.

Hannibal stretched his neck and rolled up the sleeves of his now cut and bloodied shirt. It wasn’t the first shirt of his to be ruined by blood, but he wasn’t anticipating this one joining the collection. Looking at the disaster that was his dining room table, he poured himself a glass of wine as he sighs, truly upset that his nice and planned evening with you went so sour. He then slowly turned and made his way to the corpse on the other side of the room.

Hannibal picked up the kitchen knife that had fallen out of Henry’s grasp during the final blow and moved it around in his hand until it was comfy again. 

“Now, Dr.Urik,” He squatted down next to Henry, dragging the knife across his stiff cheek as he took a sip of his wine before speaking. “What shall we do with you?”

[ayellowcurtain]

Like trouble water running cold - Ismail x Constantin

Chapter 6, I think

To @odi-et-amo85 and the anon that asked for this

-

The next morning, or afternoon actually, was not much easier. Ismail’s own words were still dancing in his very hungover brain, and he could tell it was no different with Constantin. He looked like a small, cute puppy that was left on the sidewalk for a new owner to grab or something. Ismail didn’t try to play nice that morning, he didn’t have the energy or emotions to do so.

Breakfast was quiet, and awkward, Constantin wouldn’t stop looking at him, and when Ismail tried to calmly tell Cons’ parents that he was leaving, Constantin tried to argue, saying to his parents that Ismail had nowhere else to go and no need to leave, but Ismail didn’t care, and he was out of the house a few hours later.

After another or two arguments with Constantin trying to stop him while packing his bag, or while taking everything to the door, he was finally on his way to Zoe’s place. He made sure to check that Kieu My wasn’t there that morning, and Zoe said it was only her, that even Nora wasn’t home.

Of course she already knew he and Constantin had a fight when he finally got there. If news travels fast, it travels faster than the speed of light between all of them, their tiny, extremely messy group of friends. She didn’t know exactly what the fight was about - it’s not like they hide that they hook up sometimes but it’s also their very private thing, their bubble that nobody has full access to - but she knew something had happened, and as always, tried to brush it off, to say whatever it was would be gone after a beer or two, or maybe wine.

Ismail didn’t feel like talking, or trying to fake anything, so he just used his hangover as an excuse and Zoe let him be for the next day or two.

Everyone’s lives did go back to normal eventually, at least the we-will-party-and-drink-no-matter-what part and Ismail was okay with it after those first few days feeling sorry for himself and angry with Constantin. He avoided going out the first week but he was going insane after all that time locked inside so he started going out again, and just avoided being alone with Constantin, ignoring his every attempt to talk and brush things off too.

Ismail could see him constantly staring though, drinking more and more every new day they went to go have drinks somewhere but he didn’t give in. Yeah, he made a big scene out of a small, dumb hook up but it was more than that. He was just generally tired of exactly this: Constantin trying to brush everything about them off like it’s no big deal when it was to Ismail. Constantin trying to always get his way because he can pout and look like a puppy and make you think you’re in the wrong when he’s the one constantly fucking things up left, right, and center.

“I don’t even know what’s exactly that you’re so pissed about.” Constantin said almost a month later. Ismail knew that this was planned, it just took everyone a whole month to make it happen.

They all felt bad that Constantin and Ismail weren’t talking at all, they all tried to fix it, to talk and find a way to get everything back to normal but Ismail assumed they were always way too drunk or high to put their stupid plan ir order. It only happened a month later, and it was basically an accident. Somehow, it felt like a miracle to be honest, Constantin was the less drunk one besides Ismail, and so he was in charge to walk everyone home, find their keys, shove them inside or something. Lucky for him, he only had to do that with Kieu My that night because everyone else was staying at Zoe’s.

Seeing him open the door for Kieu My, help her get inside her house safely and without making a sound made Ismail a little bit jealous deep down, remembering their laughter, and long arms wrapped around each other as they walked upstairs that one night. And maybe he froze watching that, too bitter to notice that Zoe and Finn ran as he waited for Constantin as they all should. So in the end, he was left behind to walk with Constantin, and that’s when Constantin started that conversation after long, awkward, heavy minutes walking in silence between them.

Ismail tried to ignore but of course that wouldn’t be a sign for Constantin to just leave him until they got to Zoe’s. He can never take a no for an answer.

“It can’t be because I had sex with Kieu My.” Constantin came closer to say that and Ismail stepped away, and he could hear the loud sigh before Constantin was in front of him, following every time he tried to go the other way to keep walking.

“What?! You, me and Kieu My had fun millions of times before, and the times it was just me and her are like,” Ismail rolls his eyes, and tries to move to the side again but Constantin quickly follows, "…less than my two hands, and you and I know that. It was never a fucking problem befo-”

“We were tested before that, remember?”

Constantin frows, doesn’t seem to remember right away. “Yes…? So…?”

Ismail huffs, and tries to move on again, but Constantin stops him again, holding his arm this time too.

“I used a fucking condom, Ismail! What do you want?”

“It’s funny that you still have to ask.”

Constantin stutters, blinking a few times, for once in shock, letting Ismail take a few steps in peace before he’s right back next to him.

“I like you too. I didn’t know this wasn’t clear or that big of a deal to you too-”

“You always get your way, Constantin. You hear other people, what they want or need, and you completely ignore if that’s not what you want. You’re selfish, you don’t care, even when you have feelings for someone, it’s still so fucking small compared to your ego. I’m tired of being your babysitter, I’m tired of always doing things your way. I’m taking care of myself now, putting myself first. So just leave me alone.”

Ismail bumped into Constantin’s shoulder as he walked away and Constantin didn’t bother him for the rest of the way, but Ismail could feel his puppy eyes watching his every step all the way home. Constantin obviously tried to make himself even worse, declining Zoe’s invitation to stay at hers too so he wouldn’t have to go home alone. He only decided to stay because Ismail got tired of his pity party, and said he should stay and not be dumb. He slept on the couch, and Ismail couldn’t even close his eyes that night.

6 months later

Ismail finishes his beer, rolling his eyes because Kieu My is still there, glued to his side, pressing her lips together not to say anything.

“Where’s your girlfriend again?” Ismail teases, and she laughs wholeheartedly, leaning against him, with her elbow on his shoulder.

“At least I’m not grumpy because I’m as single as one can be. No cute dates to drag to our parties tonight?”

Ismail is guilty of that, maybe, but it didn’t happen as often as Kieu My is acting.

“I deleted Grindr.” Ismail decides to finally tell her, it’s been a few weeks, the hookups got boring and repetitive.

“No way! Why?”

Ismail shrugs, turning around to watch the party, can’t help but look for Constantin, talking to Finn in a corner, smiling for once. Kieu My follows his eyes, and presses her elbow on his shoulder.

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna finally give him a break.”

“No.” Ismail cuts that conversation right away. He and Constantin are okay, finally, but there’s no chance they’ll go back to that mess. They’re friends. Like Finn, or Zoe, or Kieu My even. No benefits. They’re not even best friends anymore.

“He’s trying, you should at least give him that.”

“Trying what? To not act like a horny spoiled pre-teen?”

Kieu My raises her eyebrows, shaking her head from one side to the other. Constantin is a little better but Ismail can’t do that, ever again. He can’t get that close to Constantin again because - and nobody else needs to know that, the guilt inside his brain is big enough already - he knows his feelings are just asleep, buried under thick, comfortable layers of time passing by where Ismail got distracted with anything (and anyone) else.

“He’s not as dumb and egocentric as he used to be. You should be proud that you gave him some ground to walk on and grow up.”

“‘I’m that good of a human.” Ismail laughs, fixing his curls that are bothering his eyes. Maybe the hookups that he brought to some of their small parties were also intentional, to teach Constantin what he was missing but Ismail doesn’t have to admit that out loud either.

“And you still have that huge of a crush on your childhood best friend but we won’t talk about that, I’ll pretend I don’t see right through you.”

Kieu My doesn’t wait for his moody answer, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before finally joining Fatou on the dance floor they made in Zoe's living room. The fake disco ball with the strings attached to it, the confetti on the floor, they really went all out this time, it feels like the old days, before all the drama.

After months of failed attempts, Constantin doesn’t rush to try and talk to Ismail every time he’s alone at parties anymore. He misses it, a little bit. And he misses a lot the relationship they used to have, mess or no mess. There’s nobody that could ever fill the thousand of roles Constantin had in his life. Best friend, older brother, younger brother, bodyguard even, lover, easy sex…

Ismail turns around and walks around the counter to see if he finds himself something stronger to drink. He’s been living here for long enough to know where Zoe hides her good drinks so he checks the cupboards underneath the counter but there’s nothing new or interesting there.

“Zoe said we’re running out of booze.”

Ismail stands back up, for some weird reason getting a little nervous to be talking to Constantin, only the counter between them and even then, Cons is sort of leaning against it, and he looks painfully hot tonight. Maybe it’s the weeks without even getting to kiss someone that’s getting to Ismail.

“Already? It’s not even that late.”

Constantin shrugs, drinking his beer. “If you need it so bad we can go look around for some store that might be open still.”

Ismail shakes his head, wrapping his robe type of jacket tighter around him, using the feathers around the wrist to keep his hands warm.

“No fucking way, it’s too cold outside.”

“Okay then.” Constantin takes a long look at him, and Ismail feels a little prouder, a tiny bit exhibitionist. “You look good tonight.”

“Every night, you mean.” Constantin laughs, and it makes Ismail laugh too.

“No way.”

“Fuck you.”

Constantin raises his eyebrows, finishing his beer and Ismail rolls his eyes. I wish!

“I see you’re letting your hair grow…”

Ismail misses Constantin like he can’t even explain, even the tedious parts such as cutting his hair because Constantin is too much of a lazy ass to go find a professional hairdresser that he might like.

“Not really, I just don’t have the fucking option. My hairdresser doesn’t accept to deal with me and my reckless behavior anymore.”

Ismail sighs, stealing the beer Finn left at the counter to go to the bathroom. “You’re so fucking weird.”

Constantin leans against the counter again, following him with his eyes as Ismail doesn’t mind going around the counter, standing a step too close to Cons, but still far enough where Constantin doesn’t think Ismail is making a move on him.

“I still have the fancy hair cutting things you bought last year.”

“That I bought to cut my hair…” Constantin rolls his eyes, and Ismail stops himself from smiling too big.

“That you used to cut my hair too.” Ismail notices how short Constantin’s nails are when he starts spinning his empty bottle on the counter. It’s been a couple of years since Ismail saw his nails this short, he wonders how anxious he is today.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Constantin finally asks, less cool than how he was trying to be until just now.

“Cutting your hair, apparently.” Ismail finishes Finn’s beer, trying to tame the butterflies that are starting to fly on his stomach, well aware that Constantin will find a way to convince him to go stay at his place tonight.