#where it gives you stupid items that you have to be smart enough to think about a solution

[azira7]

Bros the type of guy to have everything imside his stupid hat

[thisgirlnamedblusy]

Hi! I enjoy suffering for a couple of minutes with your angst stories hahaha

It's a fact that Donna is a very cultured woman so how about a storie where she and reader are soon to be married and all that, but reader insecurities have been eating her alive cuz she doesn't feel intelligent enough next to Donna, like they don't share the same music taste, maybe reader enjoys pop and newer artists unlike Donna and she tries to suppress that. reader thinks donna will think less of her or something.

one day maybe one of donna's siblings makes fun of reader's lack of knowledge in the arts or something and that makes reader just snaps and cause a fight back at home and throwing the wedding ring to donna and telling her to find a wife worthy of someone smart like her. donna comforts reader telling her she only wants her, and already noticing that reader doesn't know the same things like her, tells her she knows about other stuff and has other talents making reader realize she is also smart, but with other stuff. fluff at the end of course, not all can't be angst 😅

Yesss!!! I don't know if I should feel flattered to know you suffered... (I'm just joking :P) Thank you for your support and for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!! :))))

Not enough for you

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, insecurities…

Word count: 7,155

Summary: You thought she was perfect, and you just were stupid....

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Just a heads up: Everyone has their own talents, and I don't think someone is less smart or intelligent. All the people are genius in doing something, the thing is to find what, just remember that!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours :))) I love you all!!!

“Do you think it can be fixed? Maybe we should call the Duke and…” Donna commented as you crouched down, looking at the old record player.

“Mm, let me take a look,” you said, opening the closet doors and illuminating the intricacies of the device with a flashlight. “Yes, I know where the problem is, come.”

The lady in black nodded suspiciously, looking at the place you indicated while arching your eyebrows, satisfied.

“I don't see anything, tesoro,” she said, frowning.

“It's this piece here, it seems that time has passed too quickly for it,” you said amused, moving away from the closet and searching for something in a toolbox. “It just needs to be replaced.”

Donna nodded slowly as you searched for the desired item with a concentrated look.

“Aspetta, (Y/N), it might be dangerous,” the lady said, putting a hand on your shoulder before you started to dig around in the record player. “It might give you a cramp or…”

“Bah, calm down,” you sighed with a distorted voice, as you grabbed the flashlight with your teeth. “Mm, jusft, a bif, tighfer and… voilà,” you finally said, with a satisfied smile, standing up and brushing the dust off your dress.

“Is that it?” she asked, looking at the machine with curiosity. “That easy?”

“Look,” you said with a triumphant look, bringing the old piece closer to the lady. “Do you see this thing here? It seems that it was so worn out that it wasn't able to make the disc tray spin,” you explained, running your finger along the frayed piece. “I think that's why we always listened to the same 2 seconds over and over again.”

“Oh,” Donna sighed, making the same gesture and confirming your words. “It seems that nothing lasts forever”

“It will last, as long as I'm here,” you said arching your eyebrows and putting away the tools. “There is no device that can resist me.”

“I see,” the lady in black said, laughing amused and unexpectedly grabbing your waist while placing a soft kiss on your lips. “Thank you, Lady Beneviento.”

You blushed and gave a soft punch to her shoulder while you struggled amused against her kisses.

“Hey, you haven't stolen my last name yet, let me enjoy it while I can,” you joked, stealing another kiss from the lady. “There's still a month left,”

“I still can't believe you're going to be my wife...” Donna whispered, joining her forehead with yours while her hands caressed your cheeks. “Sometimes I think I'm dreaming and that one day I'll wake up... and you won't be here anymore...”

You opened your eyes and shook your head, lifting the lady's chin.

“Hey, Donna,” you said, getting her attention, taking her out of a brief sad moment, of painful memories. “This is better than any dream.”

She smiled, kissing you again and lifting you in the air, spinning you like one of her old records, creating tender laughter that bounced off the walls of the old mansion.

It had surely been a long time since that wallpaper and those wooden panels had witnessed the happiness of their owner.

“(Y/N)… my wife,” the lady murmured with a tender smile, brushing her nose against yours and making you blush again. “I never thought there would be someone like you in my life, someone to marry, to start a family with…”

“Wow, slow down, darling,” you said amused, pushing the doll maker away with a frown. “Don't go so fast, you are immortal, aren't you? We have enough time for that.”

“You're right, I'm sorry,” she said in a low voice, blinking to get out of her own fantasies. “Sometimes I get too excited.”

“It's okay, I like the way you are, Donna,” you responded to her apologies, stealing one last kiss and definitely moving away from her. Otherwise, you couldn't do it; you were terribly addicted to her kisses.

It was another day, another day that joined the countdown of the most important moment of your life.

In that sinister village, love was the last thing you could expect. Fidelity to the Gods, responsibilities to them and the Lords kept you, the poor villagers, from wishing or dreaming of a normal life.

But you always lived in your dreams, in the desire to change the destiny that had been programmed for you when you were born. You weren’t a fervent devotee like the rest of your friends, and to you, Mother Miranda, and her adopted children weren’t deities but obstacles to deal with.

You always tried to stay away from that fanaticism. You never wanted to follow the complacent and submissive flock. Surely you deserved to be punished for your lack of faith, but soon you learned that your different attitude wouldn’t give you problems, but quite the opposite.

When you met her, when Donna Beneviento, youngest Lord and a dark woman, crossed your path, you began to think that perhaps in some way they were Gods. You didn't think so because of her powers, her living doll, or her beauty, one that took you too long to discover.

The attraction you began to feel for her was very different from your previous love infatuations. Donna exerted an unknown, addictive and merciless influence on you, forcing you, shortly after kissing her lips for the first time, to fall madly in love with her.

Yes, it wasn’t easy to deal with a woman like her; a woman with complexes about her appearance, a sick woman who from a very early age had to see herself enveloped in the halo of darkness that the embrace of the Black Gods gave her without asking.

Difficulties, crises, jealousy, doubts… It was an odyssey worthy of telling in a boring romance book, but it was your odyssey, your adventure, the conquest of a wounded heart, of a lost soul that found its place with you.

After several years in the old mansion, of kisses, hugs, passion, laughter, tears… the lady in black couldn’t wait any longer to strengthen your commitment, to impatiently ask you that words stop being just that, and become an unbreakable union.

Fearing that your romance was only fleeting, full of doubts and insecurities, Donna took the next step to convince you and herself that you would never leave her, that there would be something, a ceremony that would say that indeed, your love was forever.

You couldn't say that you had no doubts about marriage, because that would be a lie. It seemed a little hasty to you despite those 4 wonderful years. Maybe it was because you never considered getting married as something truly important in a place like that.

But, above all, it was important to Donna, and that was all you needed when the lady knelt down and swore eternal love to you by showing you a shiny ring. You rambled for days about what your new status would be: wife of a Lord, consort Lord, wife of an immortal demigoddess...

All of that was just rambling, the product of the innocent doubts of a 21-year-old girl facing something as serious and adult as marriage. You stopped seeing it that way very soon after and you knew exactly what you would be: You would be Donna's wife, and that was more than enough; you would be just (Y/N) Beneviento.

“My love... Are you okay?” you asked carefully when you saw that the lady didn’t move from the spot, looking at the floor. “Honey, you are shaking...” you said worriedly as you took her hand.

“No, I'm not okay,” Donna murmured, blinking erratically, breathing the same way. “I-I got suddenly nervous...”

“Mm,” you murmured caressing her cheek, sad to see how the lady's madness always chose the worst moment to show itself. “Shh, calm down, honey... Oh, Donna, are you having another crisis?”

The lady only nodded, letting herself be comforted by your caresses.

“I-I need a moment,” she whispered with a broken voice, surely fighting against the demons in her mind. “I have to make them shut up…”

“I'll tell Angie to stay with you,” you whispered in a tender voice, enduring the excessively strong grip of her hand in yours. “I'm going to... I'm going to make you some tea.”

“N-No, io...” she stammered, shaking her head. “I'll go, (Y/N), I want to be alone... yes, I... I'll be right back.”

“Okay,” you sighed, nodding and being an expert in controlling those episodes, knowing what to do at every moment. “Okay, honey.”

Poor Donna. Fate had been terribly cruel to her, leaving the illness of her mind as the only memory of her family. It was terribly painful for her but for you, it was much worse.

Luckily, over time you learned to take care of her, to comfort her when the voices in her head whispered horrible things. For you, nothing was impossible with her, nothing would ever stop you from loving her.

“Perdonami, (Y/N)” Donna whispered, moving away from you and walking quickly towards the elevator hallway, letting a sob escape from her lips.

“Donna…” you sighed, feeling helpless for not being able to do anything else for her, resigning and letting yourself fall on the couch, looking for the book you used to read. “Well, I can only wait.”

The truth is that you were never bored during those waits or during Donna's work with her dolls. It was a big mansion, with many old devices to tinker with and an unfinished mountain of books to read.

Besides, you always had company, the Angie doll always ran away from her owner's fits of madness for fear of being deactivated. Well, that’s what she told you, you knew that in reality, even if she denied it, that irreverent doll enjoyed your company.

“It was the detective,” the doll said, pointing at your book with enthusiasm. “I'm sure, silly.”

“How could it have been the detective? Angie, haven't you heard the story?” you asked amused, turning a page. “It was the dressmaker.”

“Oh, you're so sure of your words,” the doll hummed, sitting on your lap. “Where does it say that?”

“It doesn't say that, that's the point,” you said. “Do you even know how to read?”

“I can read your mind,” Angie hissed, getting too close to your face.

“Oh, really?” you asked as your eyes wandered over the letters of that detective story. “Well, I hope you're not reading it to me right now…”

“Hey, you shouldn't judge any character before knowing the truth,” the doll snapped at you, making you roll your eyes. “You have no proof.”

“Oh, I have,” you said nodding, turning another page, looking up when you heard the familiar sound of heels on wood. “Donna, are you better?”

“Sì,” the lady replied, her expression more relaxed, embarrassed. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't be,” you said, going back to your book.

“Hey, Donna, Donna,” the doll said jumping off the couch and tugging at the lady's black dress. “The fool thinks she's Sherlock Holmes or something, she says it was the dressmaker.”

“We were reading,” you explained, letting the lady come closer, giving you a soft kiss on the cheek and glancing at your reading.

“The Tape-Measure Murder,” she commented, whispering the title. “Mm, I'm convinced you don't need to read the end to find out the truth.”

“Sometimes Agatha Christie makes it too easy… it's obvious that it was the dressmaker,” you said amused, raising and lowering your eyebrows.

“You see? She thinks she's Miss Marple,” Angie said, pointing at you mockingly. “It was the detective.”

“I don't want to spoil the ending,” Donna said with a tender smile, pinching your cheek. “But (Y/N) is right… it was the dressmaker,” she whispered, making you protest with a sigh.

“Eh, thank you very much,” you said closing the book. “But well, I was right after all,” you said, looking at Angie in a satisfied way, making her grunt.

“I'm sorry, I'm not as discreet as I thought,” your fiancée apologized, shaking her head. “Mm, but you had barely started reading it,” she commented curiously. “How did you know?”

“The clues were too clear,” you said with a petulant tone. “It might seem like a setup, something so obvious it couldn’t be true, but you know, I’m good at crime.”

Donna laughed, giving you a soft kiss on the lips, to which Angie protested with a disgusted grunt, making you both laugh cutely as you separated.

“Mm, detective stories are fine, but I think you could start with something a little more serious,” Donna commented, standing up towards a bookshelf.

You nodded curiously, picking up the bulky book the lady handed you.

“Crime and Punishment, Fyodor Dos… Do… Dostres…” you read, frowning at the author’s complicated last name.

“Fyodor Dostoyevsky,” Donna corrected in a friendly tone, to which you arched, nodding absentmindedly. “If you like crime, I think you might be interested.”

“It seems… broad,” you whispered, flipping through the old pages. “Is it funny?”

“Well, depending on how you look at it,” Donna said, with an elegant smile. “It goes deep into the thoughts of a man who wants to commit murder, his conscience, his fears…”

“Oh,” you said disinterestedly, frowning. “But there are unsolved crimes?”

“Read it, it's worth it,” your girlfriend told you, patting you on the shoulder. “I think I'll be a little more boring,” she murmured amused, picking up another book and walking towards the entrance. “I'll put on some music, taking advantage of the fact that my future wife has fixed the record player…”

“I love you,” you whispered confidently, blowing her a kiss in the air.

The atmosphere was calm. Classical music was playing to give even more serenity to the room, but that didn't necessarily have to be a good thing. As you read that complicated book, accompanied by the soft chords of Donna's favorite music, your eyelids seemed affected by gravity.

Yes, you liked detective novels, and you were downright good at guessing the culprit before they revealed themselves, but the book Donna gave you was much more complicated than that and the words jumbled around in your brain.

You liked reading, of course, but you liked to something much lighter, not something that was undoubtedly, inducing you to sleep.

“(Y/N),” Donna said, nudging you slightly. “Are you falling asleep?”

“What?” you asked with a hoarse voice giving away the correct answer, settling down on the couch “No, no, it's... interesting.”

“Honey, your eyes are closing,” she said amused while you maintained a proud pose. “You don't like the book?”

“Oh, yes, yes, it's very entertaining,” you lied, feeling a familiar pang in your chest, an embarrassed blush appearing on your cheeks.

It wasn't the first time it happened. Donna Beneviento, contrary to what was often said in the village, wasn’t just a madwoman. She was a terribly cultured and intelligent woman, and you loved that about her.

But sometimes, just sometimes, you felt that her intelligence was far superior to yours, that somehow, you were a little more… normal. Of course, you ignored all these senseless paranoia, but, from time to time, they came back to haunt you.

You didn't want to seem like an uncultured girl, or uninterested in complicated subjects like art, history or philosophy. You had long since begun to pretend that you weren't so bored by a complicated reading or the soft melody of a work composed centuries ago.

 You didn't know what Donna would think if she knew that all of that made you sleepy, you didn't want her to think that you were inferior to her, in any way.

“It's this music, it's making me sleepy,” you said yawning and looking for an excuse for your sudden sleep.

“Oh, I thought you liked classical music,” Donna said, looking at you curiously.

“Yes, and I like it…” you lied, getting up from the couch to clear your head. “But I'd prefer something more… lively.”

“Okay,” Donna nodded, getting up to the record player and stopping that soporific melody. “What do you want?”

“Oh, no, no, no not on that old thing,” you said amused, walking towards an old music player you bought from the Duke and that you fixed yourself. “Now it's my turn.”

“Um, (Y/N)…” the lady said, playing with her hands while you manipulated your record collection.

“Let's see, let's see…” you murmured, feeling Angie climbing up your body.

“This one, this one!” the doll squealed, pointing to one of your favorite records.

“Isn't it a bit old?” you asked with the box in your hand. “Well, it could be considered classical music, don't you think, honey?” you said to the lady, handing her the CD, as she looked at it curiously.

“Spi… Spice…” the lady murmured, looking at the cover.

“Spice Girls, honey, a classic,” you corrected with a smug smile. “This sure lifts my spirits.”

“A classic? It says here that it's from 1996,” Donna protested, frowning as you snatched the box from her, putting the CD in the player. “You could say that it was just yesterday, (Y/N).”

“It's been over 20 years, Donna, so it's classical music,” you joked again, pressing the button. “Hey, Angie, I think you know the first song…”

“Yo, I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want!” Angie sang as the music started playing, jumping up and down on the floor.

“So tell me what you want, what you really, really want,” you continued, high-fiving the doll, the only one who seemed happy with your choice.

Donna stood with a frown, gently lowering the volume on the player as you sat back down on the couch.

“Ah, much better,” you commented, picking up the book again and looking at the lady over it. “Hey, honey, aren’t you coming?”

“How can you read with this music? It’s impossible,” she said in a slightly childish tone.  “Cos’è questo?”

“Music, dolcezza,” you said ironically, shaking your head. “I would have liked to play something more recent, but lately the Duke is short of contraband material.”

“No wonder. This is horrible, they don't even know how to sing,” the lady said, crossing her arms as the music seemed to destroy her ears.

“Donna…” you sighed, rolling your eyes and moving a leg to the rhythm of the music. “Stop complaining and come here.”

“You can't even dance to this,” she protested again, approaching you and glancing sideways at the stereo. “Is this really music?”

“Angie knows how to dance to it,” you said amused, pointing at the doll with your head, a doll that moved to the rhythm of that catchy song.

“Mm,” Donna murmured, letting you sit her down with a quick movement. “No, I can't.”

“Donna, stop fooling around,” you said with a hiss, shaking your head. “You always choose the music.”

“Forgive me for preferring a soft melody with perfectly ordered chords and notes to the screamers of hell,” she protested, getting up again. “This has nothing to do with the true meaning of music. It’s not elegant, they just seem like stupid brainless girls.”

“Maybe they are, but it's cool,” you said distractedly, scratching your hair to try to concentrate on the heavy reading. “Hey, where are you going?”

“To the basement, it's impossible to concentrate here,” the lady explained, disappearing among murmurs in Italian that you initially didn't give importance to.

“As you wish,” you sighed, glancing sideways at the player.

Naturally, Lady Beneviento and you came from very different times. Education, culture, everything was distant, but normally your two worlds coexisted in harmony, like those melodies she liked so much.

However, since you got engaged, you tried to take better care of those kinds of details. You knew Donna loved you. She was the one who wanted to take you as her wife so she would never lose you, but sometimes you wondered if she really bothered to really get to know you.

You didn't know what to do, whether to give in, show yourself as you really were, or pretend a little more. The idea that Donna saw that you were nothing but an ordinary girl with ordinary tastes was disturbing. She was intelligent, complicated, cultured, and you were just a country girl who enjoyed the little things in life, who didn't even bother to wonder about the origin of her existence.

You felt somewhat insecure as the days went by, unable to get along with her refined tastes, with the readings that she was passionate about. Of course none of that seemed like a problem, and maybe you were giving it much more importance than it had, but the expression of weariness, of discomfort with your simple tastes made you see you were wrong.

Donna was a wonderful woman and you were just a simple village girl, would she really still love you when she realized you weren't as cultured as she was?

The question terrified you; it made you stay up at night, it made you change, it made you carefully pretend that you were starting to be interested in such boring things. Being who you weren't wasn’t your favorite way to deal with the problem, but, with a month to go before the wedding your nerves made you make impulsive decisions.

You wanted to make her see that you were just like her, that everything she liked was also your passion. It really was hard, but you managed to fool her for a while, thinking that maybe that way, you would never disappoint her.

How ironic, you were trying to make the lady in black, the disturbed Donna Beneviento, the same one who feared so terribly to lose you, not to leave you.

“What are you doing, tesoro?” the lady asked when she finished with her dolls, finding an almost comical scene in front of her.

“Reading,” you said amused, holding the heavy book while letting the lady kiss your forehead affectionately. “Oh, and you were right, that music of yours is much more relaxing,” you commented satisfied, with the classical chords in the background.

“Mm, well,” Donna said, nodding, resting her head on your shoulder. “What do you think of the book?”

“It's good,” you answered with a fake smile, full of the wisdom you obviously lacked.

“I'm glad,” she sighed, frowning and picking up a cup that was on the table. “Did you drink a whole cup of coffee?”

“Yes, I needed to cheer myself up,” you said, downplaying that slight caffeine overdose. “Maybe I went a little too far.”

“The coffee pot was empty, did you drink it all?” Donna asked, taking your shaking hands. “(Y/N), so much coffee is not good for you.”

“Do you know what's not good?” you asked, closing the book and sensually climbing up the lady's body, with a seductive purr. “Having you so close to me, making my heart beat wildly...”

“That's because of the coffee,” she joked, caressing your legs, which rested on either side of her hips. “Mm, tesoro...”

“Shh, Angie's not here,” you murmured, biting her earlobe. “How about having fun?”

“Sounds good to me,” the brunette sighed, giving herself to your eager lips, moving your body with hers in an erotic dance, anticipating a pleasant afternoon of passion.

“Make me yours, my wife,” you whispered, slowly unbuttoning her dress, abruptly interrupted by the agonizing ringing of the phone. “Oh, it just can't be…”

“Don't pay attention,” Donna said, laughing amused, caught by your desire to love, by the desire to make you hers like only she knew how. “It will stop ringing soon… “

“No, I…” you said, getting off her body with a look of resignation. “You should pick it up, maybe it's Mother Miranda. Don't worry, I'll be waiting.”

Donna nodded, kissing you quickly and getting up with a nervous gasp, taking the phone while you seduced her by getting comfortable on the sofa and biting your lower lip.

“Pronto,” the lady sighed. “Oh, Alcina… yes, well, actually… Oh, well I don’t… Yes, I think it’s a good idea… sure, of course she’ll come, see you later, ciao…”

“Mm?” you murmured with some disappointment when you saw Donna turning back to you while fastening the buttons again. “Alcina?”

“Yes…” she sighed, also frustrated. “She says she wants us to go to the castle for tea.”

“Have you said yes? Donna… I wanted to make love,” you protested, pouting. “Come on, if we hurry we can…”

“Alcina says she has something for us, you know, for the wedding, it’s not right to reject her kindness,” the lady explained, shaking her head. “It’ll just be tea, tesoro, we won’t be long.”

“Well, okay,” you said, defeated. “You are always so polite…”

“I wouldn't want to disappoint the only family I have left,” Donna commented, with a sad tone. “I'm going to get the veil, oh and… get dressed,” she whispered amused, pointing at the underwear that you yourself pulled down to make her more nervous. “You will make me lose my mind.”

“Mm,” you murmured, stealing a seductive kiss from her. “You owe me one, my wife…”

Of course, the best thing about the trips to the castle was the journey itself. Angie made fun of you as you walked hand in hand through the forest, in silence, enjoying the contact of your skin, the tranquility of a life that would only get better.

Alcina Dimitrescu was the eldest of the Lords, and her attitude and behavior were even more refined than the lady in black’s. Her seductive voice, her glances and the conversations that always traveled between art and wine weren’t your perfect plan to spend an afternoon like that, but you couldn't complain, you knew that Donna cared about her.

“Here it is, my dears... it really is hard for me to part with this jewel, but I feel calm knowing that you and your future wife will have it,” the lady of the castle said, pointing to a small painting.

“Wow... it's impressive,” the Angie doll said, shyly approaching the painting. “Picasso?”

“Picasso,” Alcina answered as Donna tilted her head to better observe it. “It's one of my favorite pieces. You know that during the second world war the looting of works of art was pretty common. Poor stupid soldiers, they thought that this place would be ideal to hide it…”

“Was it from some soldiers?” you asked, trying to make sense of that work of art that seemed to fascinate your fiancée. “Wow, I'm sure it's a mind-blowing story.”

“Mm, the story of how it got here is unimportant, dear. Don't you know what you have in front of you?” the lady in white asked, running a hand over your shoulders. “It's real art.”

“Yes, well,” you said with a frown, confused. “To me it looks like some badly done doodles,” you commented by mistake, making the tall woman gasp with irony.

“Doodles?” Alcina asked, while Donna controlled the doll's impulses to touch the painting. “How can you say that?”

“It's what I see,” you murmured, trying to make sense of those messy figures. “Is this really art?”

“Donna, dear,” Alcina said, ignoring your comment and drawing the doll maker's attention. “Your fiancée doesn't seem pleased by my gift.”

“Perché?” your girlfriend whispered, approaching you. “Don’t you like it?”

“Like isn't exactly the word,” you commented, getting a little closer to the painting. “Was that Picasso guy really that important?”

“Well… he really was,” Donna murmured, looking at you and then at the doodles. “It's abstract art, (Y/N), it doesn't have to make sense.”

“Oh,” you said, nodding. “Well, I guess it's okay…”

“But dear, don't you know anything?” Alcina asked, coming closer again. “I see that your knowledge of art is not at all exhaustive.”

“The truth is that I’m not very interested in art,” you confessed with a shy smile. “I don’t understand it and…”

“That’s obvious,” Alcina joked, laughing sinisterly. “Well, it’s not that important, I’m convinced that you have other… virtues.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, a little annoyed by the comment, nervous.

“Oh, nothing, little bird, I’m just saying that Donna has surely seen other things in you,” the lady said, looking at you with bright eyes and a mocking smile. “Mm, I can imagine what kind of things, my dear.”

“Hey, Alcina!” Angie protested. “Stop flirting with my Donna's fiancée.”

“Please…” the lady in white sighed, making Donna suddenly tense up, starting to suffer another attack of jealousy. “She may be beautiful but… well, beauty isn't everything.”

“Um, yes, we better go,” the lady in black said, uncomfortable, just like you, who lowered your head, starting to think about your insecurities again. “We're taking the painting.”

“Oh, no, no, dear,” said Alcina, looking at you out of the corner of her eye with a regretful expression, surely noticing your sadness. “Mother Miranda told me that there are some loose lycans around, it will be better if I send it to your house when that uncomfortable matter is solved.”

“Va bene,” your girlfriend nodded, taking your hand and observing you cautiously. “(Y/N), tutto bene?”

“Um, yes, yes I… I would like to go home,” you said with a broken voice, with your bad thoughts eclipsing your reasoning.

“Of course, um… Thank you Alcina,” Donna said, pulling your hand towards the exit of the castle.

“Little bird…” the vampire interrupted. “I hope I haven't offended you.”

You didn't answer. You looked away and continued walking. There was no more laughter, no more holding hands on the way back.

Your ignorance was something you always tried to hide, something that was natural to you and that seemed to be of no importance to Donna, but after that unpleasant visit to the castle, everything in your mind changed.

Donna Beneviento was a cultured, intelligent woman, passionate about art, and you were a simple villager, a lover of crime novels, short stories that were easy to read. You weren't on her level, no matter how much you tried to pretend otherwise.

As you walked home, you thought about the near future, about what your life would be like after marriage. You loved Donna, you loved her just the way she was, you loved her mind, her intelligence… but she… what was it that she loved about you?

You weren't sure of the answer and your nerves began to tense. You could pretend for a year, two, but no more. You weren't the intelligent and cultured girl that Donna deserved, you were simply nothing compared to her; you had nothing to offer her.

“I'll make dinner, tesoro,” the lady commented when you were back home, taking off her veil with a tender smile. “Hey, amore mio, what's wrong?”

“Donna, I…” you murmured with a sad sigh. “What did you see in me?”

“Cosa? What's that question about?” she asked, frowning. “Oh, you didn't take what my sister said seriously, did you?”

“How can you expect me not to take it seriously? She's right, I'm stupid,” you growled, clenching your fists. “Donna, stop pretending.”

“Pretend? Um, tesoro, I don't know what you're talking about... I told you not to drink so much coffee,” the lady said worriedly, cupping your face in her hands.

You pulled away with a furious gasp, shaking your head.

“It's not the coffee!” you screamed, releasing a pressure in your chest that was already unbearable. “It's not about that Donna, it's about me, about us.”

“(Y/N), you're scaring me...” she sighed, grabbing you by the shoulders. “Calm down, please.”

“No Donna, I'm not calming down... Why? Huh? Why me? Are you so desperate that you'll settle for any stupid girl who's capable of having children? Is that what you want from me? Then what, huh? You'll kick me out of your life because I'm not what you're looking for…”

“You're delirious, I don't know what's wrong with you,” Donna said, very nervous, shaking her head. “Why do you say such horrible things?”

“They're not horrible things, it's reality,” you hissed, pointing at your fiancée in an unpleasant way. “Donna, I hate classical music, Crime and Punishment is a boring book and I have no interest in art…”

“(Y/N), but,” she interrupted, desperate to get you to come back to your senses. “Tesoro…”

“Disappointed? I assumed so…” you whispered with a dark look while Donna was speechless, just shaking her head. “This is me, a stupid and ignorant girl who gets bored with everything you like.”

“That's not bad at all. I don't…” she said, with a marked accent that betrayed her nervousness. “…I don't care about that.”

“You say that now, but…” you said, laughing nervously. “You'll realize that we're from different worlds, that I'm of no use to you and you know what? I should have realized it sooner.”

“(Y/N)…”

“No, Donna,” you said, sobbing and shaking your head. “I'm tired of pretending that I deserve to have your last name when it's not true. You're a wonderful woman, the most wonderful woman I've ever met in my life, but I'm not, I have nothing to offer you…”

“S-Stop… stop… Stop talking nonsense!” Donna shrieked, furious, unable to control her nerves. “What's this about? What have I done wrong? Why do you say those things?”

“You know I'm right,” you hissed, with a much darker voice, glancing sideways at the shiny ring that decorated your finger. “Now you love me, but soon you'll realize that you've wasted your time with me. I'm not what you deserve; I'm not what you're looking for, Donna.”

“How do you know what I'm looking for?” she asked, grabbing your arm. “Why are you torturing me!?”

“Donna, you’re hurting me,” you protested, breaking away from her grip, watching as the lady slowly lost her mind. “It doesn't make any sense for you to get like that when you know it's true.

“It's not true!” she shrieked, kicking childishly. “(Y/N), don't you dare…!”

“Shh, that's it,” you whispered with your voice broken by crying, approaching her cautiously. “Donna, this can't go on like this, I don't want to ruin your life.”

“Ruin my life? P-Please, let's talk things over, you're not thinking clearly,” Donna said, grabbing your hand again, breathing heavily.

“No, honey, no…” you whispered, caressing her hand and bringing the other to the ring, slowly taking it off your finger. “I'll never be able to think clearly.”

“What are you doing? Why…?” Donna asked, looking at the ring already off your finger, a ring you placed in the palm of her hand, closing her fist over it.

“It's okay, I know when to back off,” you sobbed, clenching her fist. “You should give this to a woman who is better than me, a smart girl like you, who deserves to wear it.”

“(Y/N), il tuo anello… put it on, per favore,” she whispered nervously, playing with the jewel, grabbing your hand tightly. “Per favore! Don't do this to me!”

“I'm sorry, darling,” you said with a sore throat, returning the ring to her hand, squeezing it tighter. “I don't deserve you, you should find someone who does.”

“No, no, wait, wait,” the lady said, pulling your wrist as you prepared to leave the mansion. “No…”

“Goodbye, Donna,” you sobbed before turning around and running to the exit, leaving the lady in black paralyzed, dropping the ring, which bounced on the floor.

“What are you doing, silly Donna!? She's leaving, do something!” Angie shrieked, pulling at her dress.

Donna didn't move, she was just sobbing in shock, motionless.

You looked at her one last time and opened the door, leaving her life forever.

“Donna, Donna! You can't let her go! Donna, react!” Angie continued, while her voice became more and more imperceptible. “The lycans, Donna, the lycans…!”

Her screams were barely whispers as you ran through the dark forest, crying panting, having made the hardest decision of your life. No, Donna didn't deserve you, she didn't deserve a brainless girl like you, you would only make her unhappy. You were completely convinced.

The tiredness made you relax your steps, panting and screaming desperately. You had lost the love of your life, and it wasn't because of something you had done, but because of who you really were. She could never love you. She could never love a stupid girl like you, even if she forced herself to do so.

A sinister roar brought your consciousness back for a moment. The place was terribly dark and you lost your bearings. Going back wasn’t an option, but you didn't know what was in front of you, which was the right way after leave the elevator.

“I'm so stupid that I don't even know where...” you lamented, walking until you collided with something hairy, with a horrible creature that made you trip.

Normally, lycans didn't roam the territories of the Lords, but you soon remembered Alcina's warning about some rebellious beasts that escaped Miranda's control.

Your arm hurt and the moisture on your clothes told you that you were bleeding, but that wasn't the worst part, the worst part was seeing how that beast raised its claws before you to tear you apart, giving a pathetic end to your pathetic life.

“Stop!” a voice behind you said, causing the beast to obey and back away in fear.

The dim light of the place illuminated the silhouette of the lady in black, who was slowly approaching, terrifying the lycan just by her mere presence.

“Fuori…” Donna hissed, making the creature whimper, forcing it to protect itself with its claws. “Get out of here!”

The lycan fled, and the lady crouched down next to you, checking your condition.

“(Y/N), parlami, per favore… where did it hurt you?” she asked, being pushed unpleasantly by you, getting up on your own.

“Donna, I'm… I'm fine,” you said, grabbing your injured arm. “I… er… thank you.”

“Amore mio, you're bleeding,” Donna said, holding your arm and taking a look at your wounds. “Come, I have to…”

“No,” you said coldly. “You don't need to take care of me, not anymore,” you said, giving in to crying again, inevitably throwing yourself into her arms. “Donna…”

“Shh, you're very nervous, tesoro, come, let's go home and… I'll heal you and…” she stammered, crying, but keeping her composure better.

Silence. That was the word that best defined that moment. While Donna healed you, you sobbed under her watchful gaze, unable to say anything, unable to stop feeling at ease in what until a while ago, was your home.

“Perché? Perché, (Y/N)?” the lady murmured, wiping the blood from your arm, looking away from you.

“Donna, I've already explained my reasons,” you murmured distractedly, not wanting to go back. “Thank you for healing me, but I'll leave as soon as you do.”

“You can't…” she sighed, closing her eye to keep calm. “You can't just leave like that, without giving me a reason. You’re breaking my heart…”

“I'm sorry, but it's for the best, I love you too much to let you waste your time on me,” you said with a broken voice, but firm in some way. “Donna I... I'm not like you. You're a cultured, intelligent woman and I... I'm just a stupid village girl who likes to listen to stupid songs and read books that could be for children. I'm not what you think.”

“But you are what I want,” she murmured, bandaging your wound delicately. “Do you really think I want a pedantic girl like my sister by my side? No, (Y/N)…”

“It's what you deserve,” you sobbed again, pulling your arm away.

“You're just talking nonsense, (Y/N), I love you just the way you are. I would never pretend to change you, I... (Y/N), tesoro, you have to believe me. I'm not looking for anything because I've already found it, I've found you…” Donna sighed, lifting your chin. “You are the love of my life, the one I want to be my wife, my family.”

“You've chosen wrong,” you said with a nervous laugh, shaking your head. “I'm just a stupid girl.”

“You're wrong, (Y/N),” the lady hissed, darkening her gaze. “Do you think a person's intelligence is measured by their knowledge of art or literature? No, tesoro…”

“Well, but…”

“No, now you're going to listen to me. You're not stupid. Just, just look at everything you've done during all this time. I would never have been able to fix the record player, or the projector… (Y/N), you bought the Duke a broken device and fixed it, you made it work again as it were magic…”

“Not that…”

“Taci,” she interrupted, with a brusque tone, cupping your face in her hands. “You are capable of much more than you think, of things that I would never be capable of, never… You say you are stupid for not knowing anything about art, for considering a complicated book boring, but that’s not true.”

“Donna, I…” you tried to say, silenced by a finger on your lips.

“Amore mio, you are intelligent, much more than me in many ways. You are funny, decisive and have an amazing capacity for deduction, or do you forget that you never finish any of your detective stories?”

“Well, that’s because…” you explained somewhat confused, relaxing the demons that were hovering in your mind.

“Because you know the ending before reading it. That is intelligent, tesoro, those are your abilities, just because they are not the same as mine doesn’t mean they are insignificant,” she said, with a desperate smile, trying to make you reason, starting to achieve it. “I fell in love with you just the way you are, I love you just the way you are…”

“But Donna, I…” you protested unsurely, beginning to give in to her pleasant words. “I don't think that… that I can contribute anything, I…”

“(Y/N), you are the missing part of my boring existence, you are that joy that lights up my life. Please, don't abandon me because without you… without you, art would cease to be…”

“That's very nice,” you said while blushing, letting be guided by her hand until her lips rested on yours with a soft and salty kiss, an intense, deep love kiss…

“Hey, hey, hey!” interrupted Angie, comically separating you by giving something to Donna, something that made her look at you sadly. “You dropped this, silly Donna, why don't you put it back in its place?”

She sighed, looking at the ring Angie gave her and gently grabbing your hand.

“(Y/N), sposami…” she asked in a soft voice. “Don't leave me alone, don't let me get lost without you because… because without you I'm nothing…”

“Donna…” you said, letting the ring slide back down your finger, starting to get rid of the bad thoughts in your mind, realizing that deep down you knew she was right, that intelligence wasn't measured by tastes, but by many other things.

“Donna, I love you… of course I'll marry you…”

[mins-fins]

should've been me.

&&. you're in love with him, that's great! all he's gonna do is use that to his advantage.

pairing: lee donghyuck x m!reader

genre: angst yummy

warnings: um uh.. sexual content??? (like mentions), the stress of friends with benefits, mentions of drinking, this relationship is very unhealthy

word count: 1.3k

notes: stole fwb hyuck from jj im so sorry but hes so………😢 um anyway so yeah he kinda really sucks here but hes so sexy and beautiful and a hashtag #malemanipulator😂 and reader just kinda takes it cause they're pretty pathetic if im being honest 🙏 (im so sorry but its true) (i quite literally wrote this) anyway DONT deal with people who treat you like shit you deserve better than that 🫵 i also wrote this in like 30 minutes at 1 am and river kept pestering me to sleep so thats cool 😆!

you're not exactly sure what your problem is.

you're not exactly sure what donghyuck's problem is either.

maybe the two of you were simply meant for each other, he's a drunk mess in your house and your a sober mess beside him. although compared to him, your better at keeping yourself in check for long enough that it appears your emotionally stable, hyuck is like.. how would you explain it? a ticking time bomb.

renjun calls him that, he's a disaster waiting to happen, even with how much he tries to put on a stupid calm act. yeah, he's smart, much smarter than most people give him credit for, but he is also much more impulsive than he likes to say.

case in point, he's absolutely wasted in your home right now, whining about some stupid thing his seventh fling said or something.

he's absolutely reckless.

the two of you have been a bit.. off for the past few weeks, your very aware that donghyuck is messing with different people, probably trying to get you out of his head after you two yelled at each other like there was no tomorrow.

he just always seems to find his way back to your house, even after all the times you try to turn him away, he always slides his way back into your life, one way or another.

and you always just let him.

you now realize how you seem like a pushover. wow, chenle actually wasn't wrong for once.

your frustrated, he just decides to waltz into your house, after two weeks of ignoring your messages and going around with other people, messing around with other people, staying over at their houses, pretending that you didn't exist, he always thinks he can just get his way.

it's not like you two are dating or anything..

but you hate that it hurts.

"okay— stop screaming" you put your hands up, but donghyuck doesn't stop talking, just lowering the volume of his voice, he just continues talking faster. you close your eyes, taking a deep breath, sometimes you feel more like his mom than his 'friend that's more than a friend but not his partner'.

"donghyuck, you need to— be quiet" you say, you somehow find yourself walking towards him and place your hands onto his shoulders. he has to look up at you to glare at you, and you almost laugh at the fact, you always teased him about it before, but right now he's glaring at you, a look he's shared with you at only certain occasions.

"don't tell me what to do".

"you're in my house!"

"well where else am i supposed to go, y/n? your the one who opened the fucking door anyway!" he retorts, still glaring at you like before. he's not crazy drunk to the point that he's stumbling over his words and talking like a crazy person, but he's also not that sober either.

not like you don't have so many more other people willing to drop down on their knees for you, why don't you just go to any of their houses instead?

that's what you want to say, the words rest on your tongue, itching to escape your lips so you can finally talk about what's been bothering you all this time.

you two aren't dating, you aren't exclusive to each other, your not.. an "item" or whatever, you two just both found something you could use to your advantage, and it's not like there were any rules when it came to you two, you guys had no control over what the other did with other people.

you have no right to be jealous.

so you refrain from saying that, instead biting your tongue and choosing the first thing that comes to your mind. "i didn't let you in, i opened the door, and you stormed into my house, and now you refuse to get out!"

"you're just such a little— bitch".

you'd kiss him if he wasn't being so aggressive at the moment, you can't say that he didn't look absolutely.. well— irresistible in a sense. if you weren't so stubborn, you probably would've pounced on him already.

but you stand your ground.

for once he can't get his way, you'll make sure of it.

"actually, i know what your deal is!" he shouts, accusingly, he walks up to you and points his finger directly in your face. his expression is a mix of pissed off and absolutely smitten, as if he's in love with you and wants to punch you in the face at the same time.

"oh yeah? enlighten me?"

"you're in love with me".

donghyuck leans close to your face when he says it, spitting out the words like they're poisonous, it's like he knows just how much you feel, like he's taking apart the thoughts that have been constantly plaguing your mind one by one.

you laugh, true words, but your not gonna let him know that. you allow your expression to become one of humor, and you raise an eyebrow. "i'm in love with you? please, get over yourself".

donghyuck doesn't falter. "you're just so bothered by the fact that i'm in someone else's bed, that i don't parade around you all the time, you always say you don't mind than get so sad when i'm not giving you a hundred percent attention, you whine like a baby when i'm not here for just a minute".

his tone is a teasing one, he's making fun of you, like he's about to jump at you and destroy all that you love. he wants to see you break, he wants to see you give in, wants to watch as you slowly melt and encapsulate his words, digest them, he wants you to feel every single letter that comes out of his mouth.

it's like he almost finds you funny, in a sense—

but your not that easy to break, so you just let out yet another bitter chuckle. "okay then mr. know it all, why don't you sit down and let me help you sober up?"

"your a coward".

you grit your teeth, he just won't stop fucking talking will he? he just keeps going on and on and on and on, at this point your considering pulling out the duct tape above your cupboard and shutting him up for good, but instead you close your eyes and sigh.

"why is it so hard to say, y/n? are you really that afraid of commitment that the best you can do is friends that occasionally mess around with each other?"

"donghyuck" you drag your teeth against each other. "if you don't shut up i swear to god i'm throwing you out of this house and making you sleep in the freezing cold".

it's an actual threat, not an empty one, donghyuck knows you well enough that he can tell the difference. so, stubbornly, he sits down, arms crossed over his chest.

your not sure why you always end up taking care of him, he didn't ask for you to, he just wanted to stupidly sulk on your couch, attempting to "calm" his mind after he screamed at you, staying silent after he basically read out all your inner most thoughts to you, like he just reached into your mind and pulled out all the things you'd been thinking.

"you always get so talkative when you drink".

you've gotten much used to ignoring how much you hurt when donghyuck yells at you, it's all become a little thing between you two, you argue, you sleep with each other, you forget it the next day, then go exactly back to that.

it's not healthy for either of you, clearly, it's more of destroying you than anything, but you don't even try to negotiate with him, just let him sit there as you contemplate, standing at your kitchen counter.

"i hate you" you mutter, instinctively cracking your knuckles as you say those words.

and yeah— maybe you do say that,

but your always gonna end up right beside him in the end.

[theclassclone]

Sleepover, Sleepover, Sleepover

Chapter 7

Word Count: 10,319 TW: Canon-typical Master List || Previous || Next

“On this very special chapter of Clone High,” Abe presented. “Joan and CJ were invited to a ‘popular’-girl sleepover. Will they fit in? Will the four of them get along? Will this destroy relationships? Who knows! Girls will be girls, am I right?” Abe chuckled. His chuckle was short liked. “I’M SO—I’m—No, no, NO—STOP! I said I’m SORR—AHH!”

Harriet swung the front door open and clapped her hands lightly. “Oh, my gosh.” I’m so excited that you decided to come. We weren’t sure if you were going to make it, but the minute you texted Frida, we were waiting for you! Come in!” She grabbed CJ’s upper arm and pulled her through her house. CJ didn’t even have enough time to take in the brief tour that Harriet tried to give her. “Get into your PJs, get comfortable, it’s movie time!” She practically threw CJ inter her room.

CJ stumbled forward; she walked into Harriet’s room and set her bag down in the only cleared up space. “Um… it’s only 6 PM.”

“PJs. Now.” Harriet demanded.

“Just do what she says, it’s easier.” Frida exhaled. She leaned back and put her weight on her hands; her hands sunk into Harriet’s bed. She noticed that CJ was staring at her. “What?”

“Erm, nothing.” CJ mumbled and opened her weekender. She pulled her pajamas out and her 3-piece travel set for her necessities. She hugged the items to her chest and faced the adolescent girls awkwardly.

“What? I showed you where the bathroom was. You’re good at learning, I thought you’d be able to, y’know,” Harriet tapped the side of her forehead, “get it when we ran past it.”

Frida rolled her eyes and chuckled. “Just because she’s good at science doesn’t mean she’ll be good at mapping out your house, stupid. C’mon, I’ll show you where the bathroom is.” She jumped off of Harriet’s bed and walked toward the door.

CJ swiftly followed Frida out of Harriet’s room. “Is she always this excitable? I feel that this is more extreme than what I have experienced at school.” She asked Frida in a low voice.

“You just don’t spend the time with us to know the real Harriet.” Frida pushed the bathroom door open for CJ. “You’ll get used to her. Just like we’re not used to you being so nice to us. I’m surprised you haven’t said anything mean yet.” She chuckled. “Think you can make it back to Harriet’s room?”

“Uh, hopefully.” CJ slipped into the bathroom; it was already full of Frida and Joan’s belongings on top of Harriet’s.

CJ blinked and glanced around at the messy bathroom—it wasn’t even anything that qualified as messy, it was just full of product that belonged to three adolescents’, four if CJ opted to leave hers. She awkwardly and gingerly set her pajamas down on the counter and her travel bags in the sink for now. She changed as quick as she could with one fully functional hand, and one wrapped completely in gauze and only freshly injured in the morning. She half-assed her nightly routine—again, with the same excuse of only having one hand to do certain things. Her face was as clean as she could make it, her topical medication barely made it (because it’s such a fucking stereotype for the smart kids to have acne and glasses, isn’t it? Solution, Rx that shit), and she moisturized her face slightly. She gathered her belongings in her arms and poked her head out of the bathroom.

CJ stepped out of the bathroom and slowly walked back in the direction of Harriet’s room, and she wasn’t exactly confident of—the general act of walking—the navigation. The walk from the bathroom to Harriet’s room seemed long, but it might have been because CJ felt out of place (she still didn’t want to be there). She’d actually never been to a sleepover before, she never planned on going to a sleepover, and she certainly didn’t want it to be with these idiots. But here she was, in Harriet’s house because JFK lied through his teeth about a bet, they kind of made but not, and she had to follow along because the stupid butlertron at home made a convincing argument of his own.

The door to Harriet’s room swung open abruptly. “We thought you got lost.” Harriet said.

“We’re gonna set up to watch some movies in the living room with snacks and all that.” Frida told her.

CJ nodded. “I’m just going to put my things with my bag.” She squeezed between Frida and Harriet. She scrambled across the room and hurried over to her weekender; she flipped the top open and placed her travel bags inside and grabbed her bag designated for dirty laundry and shoved her clothes from the day inside of it. She closed her weekender and stood up and faced the door.

“Soo…” Joan’s voice trailed. “You made some kind of bet with JFK.”

CJ hummed. “He’s actually trying to prove some complicated boy-problem to me because I’m too much of a girl to understand it at face value. He told Ka-uh-Frida and, uhm, Harriet that we made a bet. Probably because he thought it was the easiest way to convince them to invite me to this sleepover because he—.” She paused and exhaled sharply. “It was this whole thing he planned.” She told Joan a half-truth; she waved her right hand, palm facing Joan, in front of her face, and bobbed her head. “I don’t know what he’s trying to prove, but I get lunch out of it as long as I pretend to understand in the end. I already know that I’m not going to understand, but he thinks I have a chance, and Frida seems to think she’s getting my lunch out of it. There’s not lunch to be had because I already know the outcome. I’m going to lose.”

“Yeeeah.” Joan’s voice trailed on that one word. “I’m not buying that. Seems too well thought out to be real.”

“Uhm, what’s that supposed to mean?” CJ asked.

Joan raised an eyebrow. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to.”

“I don’t understand.” She shook her head slightly.

“Ugh, you are just like Cleo,” Joan told her. “You’re so vain, but then you turn around and pretend to be everyone’s friend to get what you want. Well, I’ll tell you what, sister, I’m watching you. Oh, I am watching you and I am not letting you out of my sight! You are not going to take my boyfriend and my friends away from me!” She pointed a finger at CJ. “And this whole injured hand thing better be real. You are not getting any pity points from me!”

CJ narrowed her eyes to Joan and drew her lips into a thin line. “I want to see what movies Frida and Harriet have chosen and what snacks they are offering,” she widened her eyes again, “as exciting as this conversation is. I’m just not understanding what you’re trying to tell me. I told you the truth, against my better judgement because I should have just let your boyfriend and friends run wild with the lie—.”

Frida poked her head into Harriet’s room. “Oh, great, you guys are still in here. Can you bring some pillows and blankets out to the living room while Harriet and I make popcorn?” She asked.

“Oh, sure, where do you want us to get the pillows and blankets from?” Joan immediately sidelined her conversation with CJ and turned to face Frida.

“Harriet’s bed and the drawer’s underneath her bed.” She told them.

CJ moved over to Harriet’s bed and knelt on the floor; she lifted the bed skirt. “Oh, there are drawers here, that’s weird.” She pulled one of the drawers out and pulled the neatly folded blankets out and threw them on top of the bed. She closed the drawer and scooted closer to the next drawer and pulled that one out; she pulled the few pillows out of the drawer and threw them on top of the bed with the folded blankets.

“She has a lot of blankets.” Joan stared at the blankets with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. “We should take them all to be safe.”

CJ nodded and pressed her forearms on Harriet’s bed to pull herself to her feet. “Why does she have so many… I barely sleep with one.”

“You too?” Joan scooped the various types of folded blankets up in her arms.

CJ wrapped her arm around the pillows she grabbed from the drawer beneath the bed and reached for Harriet’s nightly pillows and tucked those in her arms as well. She hummed and followed Joan out of Harriet’s room.

“I have a serious question for you.” Joan glanced behind her.

“This will be great, considering…” CJ tilted her head to the side and waited for Joan to pester her with more than one question.

Joan led CJ into the living room and toward the couch; she placed the stack of blankets down on the couch and quickly turned to face CJ. “You look so uncomfortable—.”

“That’s not a question.”

“Let me finish,” Joan shushed. “Have you ever been to a sleepover before?”

CJ shook her head. “I’ve only made one friend when I was younger, but we weren’t able to do much together because he was always… hospitalized… never really had female friends.” She dropped the pillows onto the couch and continued to speak to Joan against her better judgement. “By the way, your boyfriend is cool and all, but for some reason he can’t get it through his head that I don’t want to be his friend. And it has nothing to do with him, I’m a girl, I like to think I know what girls are like even though I’ve never had a boyfriend. And I don’t want to assume that you’re like every girl ever. I think I’ve already mentioned this before, getting some déjà vu.” She looked away from Joan and glanced around the vast living area; it appeared to be much larger than what she was used to (but every house was literally built differently). She bent her elbows and hung her arthritic hands in front of her chest, still looking around the clean living area. “I need a drink.”

Joan knitted her eyebrows together. “Well, yeah, you did sort of mention that before, but I thought you were joking because he kept bothering you about something silly… I guess I misjudged you.” She paused and looked CJ over. “With hands like that, you could get those long nails.” She laughed slightly at CJ’s posture.

“Raptor claws? Even getting regular polish done at a salon is too expensive for me…” She paused and slowly turned her palms upward. “Maybe I’m just too frugal.”

Frida waltzed out of the kitchen with one bowl of popcorn. “I heard someone needs a drink. Whatcha need?” She glanced between CJ and Joan trying to figure out which of the alt-girls it was that needed a beverage. She approached them and placed the first bowl of popcorn down on the entertainment unit, just below the TV (as the TV was hanging on the wall).

“I’m thirsty.” CJ turned her injured palm toward Frida and waved it.

“I kind of am too, could I get a lime soda and a water for later?” Joan asked.

CJ tilted her head to the side. “Got any gross premade tea? If not water’s fine.”

“You’re my kinda girlies.” Frida pointed at them and grinned. “I knew there was something about you both. Amongst other things.” She walked backward and disappeared into the kitchen again to help Harriet with the second serving of popcorn and to gather the drinks each of them had requested.

Joan looked at CJ and gave her half a smile. “I think they like us.”

“I’m still only here because your boyfriend lied to them, they’re being nice to me because they’re friends with him. They actually like you.” She slowly turned her head to look at Joan. “You also just argued with me in Harriet’s room.” She pointed an uncoordinated finger toward Harriet’s room.

“To be fair, we didn’t start off on the right foot.” Joan told her; she sat down on the floor in front of the couch and leaned her back against it. She rested her left arm on the couch and looked up at CJ. “You did try to keep Harriet and Frida from allowing me to help out with decision making.

CJ slowly sat down on the edge of the couch. “I have been informed that I am not a very nice person. I’m very much aware of that, contrary to popular belief.”

“Can we start over?” She asked.

CJ played with the fuzz coming off of her gauze. “Technically, we can’t start over because the last week already happened—.”

“We can try to be friends,” Joan said, “starting tonight.” She ran her fingers through her carmine-colored hair, examining clumps of it between her fingers.

“Oh, that’s what you meant.” CJ raised her eyebrows and stared at her fraying gauze as she continued to pull at it.

Joan leaned forward and tried to look at CJ’s expression. She opened her mouth to continue their conversation but was stopped by Harriet and Frida entering the room obnoxiously.

“I absolutely think we should do it.” Harriet raised her voice.

“Nah, girl, you don’t know if Ceej and Joan will be down, you can’t just assume.” Frida partially raised her voice back, which was odd for her as she was more relaxed than Harriet could ever achieve.

“What’s going on?” Joan looked at Harriet and Frida.

CJ glanced up at Harriet and Frida. “What wouldn’t we be down for?”

“Harriet wants to play Bloody Mary before we sit down and watch movies.” Frida approached CJ. She leaned forward as she was hugging everyone’s drinks. “Tea and water for you, somewhere in here. Lime soda and water for Joan, too.” She laughed.

CJ suck air in between her teeth. “Ah, thanks.” She uncomfortably slipped her tea and her bottle of water from between Frida’s arm and chest. She politely grabbed Joan’s drinks as well despite her continued discomfort with grabbing the drinks from Frida’s chest.

Frida straightened her posture and walked back toward Harriet. “See, no answer.”

“I think you made her uncomfortable.” Harriet spat.

Frida shrugged her shoulders.

“Well, getting my drinks from a boob-vending machine was not on my list of things to do today, so yes, that was a bit… weird.” CJ set her drinks and Joan’s drinks down on the coffee table in front of them. “But what was it you wanted to do again?”

“I want to play Bloody Mary.” Harriet told her sternly.

CJ’s face lit up and she sat up straight again. “Oh, that’s it?” She sat for a moment with her mouth agape and her head tilted to the right. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

“Wait, isn’t that a 3 AM sort of game? Like it only works at 3 AM?” Joan asked; she twirled her hair between her fingers and turned toward the TV. She pressed her back onto the couch.

CJ inhaled deeply and placed her right hand over her left. “Realistically, as long as you have the right occultist materials, you can do whatever you want. If you don’t, yes, 3 AM—or the witching hour—is the prime time to call Bloody Mary.”

“Damn, I told you I should’ve brought my spell candles ‘n shit.” Frida looked at Harriet and smacked her arm. “Now you gotta wait until the witching hour to call your ghost.”

CJ stood up and wobbled. She let her left-hand dangle by her side but held her right hand by her chest, her index finger threatened to be pointed toward the ceiling as if CJ was going to begin lecturing. “That’s not entirely what I mean. Witchcraft can be a very useful tool to lure Bloody Mary out before the witching hour. Frida has a point, spell candles are preferred, but in modern times, modern witches make do.”

“I ain’t using no store-bought battery lights, fuck that.” Frida crossed her arms. “I say we wait until 3 AM—love the lesson you were about to give them, but, between you and me, modern witches just aren’t the same. You should meet a real Bruja.” She pressed her fingers to her thumb and pressed the tips of her fingers to her puckered lips. “Mwah.” She outstretched her arm. “Muy potente.”

Joan knitted her eyebrows together and looked between Frida and CJ. “You’re into Wiccan stuff too?”

CJ lifted her left hand and gently placed her right hand on top of her gauze-covered knuckles. She looked next to her and down at Joan; she shrugged her shoulders. “Well, I’ve been trying to uncover the extensive knowledge of witchcraft. I’m not entirely a fan of the modern Wiccan culture and how it has been adapted from Catholic, Christian, and other ancient and modern religious ideologies and continues to pride itself as a Paganistic religion—witchcraft, at its core, is a religion. Nordic, Roman, Greek, Egyptian—purely because the mythology of these cultures has too many things in common, including the types of Gods and their powers, stories, and rituals. All you have to do is break it down from there to find what you have today. But for what started it all, we know nothing. Witchcraft has been around for as long as there have been stories about Primordial Gods and Titans, it’s probably a lot older than those stories if you really think about it.”

Joan looked at the coffee table, inhaled deeply, then looked back up at CJ. “You single handedly insulted seven different religions.” She paused for a moment. “Wait, aren’t you a scientist? How does that work with you being religious?”

CJ dragged her right hand off of her left and tapped her fingers together; she leaned away from Joan and chuckled nervously. “To be fair, I don’t believe that there is a God who made each individual, there likely isn’t a God at all, nor do I believe that the Bible is an accurate telling of the time period that is it trying to portray, I think it’s a fanfiction about Jesús.”

Harriet and Frida wheeze. “FANFICTION.”

“It’s a real person fanfiction she says!” Frida throws herself onto the couch and continues laughing. “Oh, my God!”

Harriet quickly stopped laughing. She held her arms out and made herself the center of the conversation to get her two cents’ worth on the table. “Wait, wait, wait—she has a point! I haven’t seen him do anything magical like the Jesus in the bible. Oh, my God. It’s a fanfiction until proven otherwise.”

Joan laughed slightly and covered her mouth with her fist. “Hold on, I want to know what fanfiction is, but after this. Keep going.”

“I don’t know what’s so funny. I’m serious, the Bible is most likely the first written real person fanfiction; legends, myths, and folklore could be argued to be such as well. But the point I’m trying to make here is, that if God-like beings exist, I’m more inclined to believe that Odin will walk through the front door and punch me in the face than the Christian God will.” CJ began to raise her voice to defend her point. She glanced at Harriet and Joan. “It’s very likely that they are just like us but use witchcraft in such an advanced way, which is technically part of Odin’s story, but not in so few words.” She stopped tapping the tips of her fingers together and extended one hand toward Harriet and one toward Joan. She glanced behind her at Frida, who was lounging.

Harriet shook her head. “What, is this your future college thesis because you already do so much science?” She walked over to the couch and pushed Frida’s legs. She sat down and leaned back. “You get so angry.”

“No, no, she gets passionate.” Frida corrected her. “She loves this witchcraft-religion topic. You get the same way about your reality TV shows, so don’t even start with us.” She waved the TV remote in Harriet’s face. “The Kardashian’s, Love Island or whatever that one’s called.”

Joan smacked her hand against the couch. “Hey, what movie are we watching? It’s getting late!”

“Oh, right!” Harriet jumped up.

“But we were having a great discussion—.” CJ interjected.

Harriet groaned. “This is a sleepover, girl! Have some fun, not everything is about serious academia or whatever you’re on about!” She swiped the remote from Frida’s hand and walked toward the entertainment center.

She turned the TV on and stood directly in front of it as she played with the smart TV’s settings and applications. Frida rolled around on the couch, pulling the pillows from beneath her one-piece pajama clad body (not to mention that she was matching Harriet). After rolling around and creating different sounds of friction and fabrics sliding against each other, Frida decided that she needed to get up and move the coffee table out of the way. It was a very light coffee table as there was no glass, it was merely wood and everything that they had on top of it (which was really just drinks as Frida and Harriet forgot the popcorn beneath the TV). Frida slid the table across the carpet; CJ knitted her eyebrows together and scrunched her nose, not particularly enjoying the sound of the table legs against the carpet. She tensed her shoulders up until Frida stopped moving the table.

Joan began unfolding the blankets from where she was seated and haphazardly threw them all back on the couch. She only paused when Frida passed in front of CJ to hand Joan her drinks. Joan took her drinks from Frida and set them on the floor next to her. CJ glanced around the room, watching Frida, Joan, and Harriet all do something. CJ felt out of place and unproductive and they were simply setting up to watch movies. Frida jumped back onto the couch behind CJ.

“Sit down,” Frida patted the couch.

CJ sat down next to Frida. Frida propped her head up on her hand and threw pieces of popcorn at Harriet until Harriet was done trying to pick a streaming service and movie for them to watch. Harriet growled beneath her breath and picked up the few pieces of popcorn that were thrown at her and threw them back at Frida, knowing that Frida was the culprit right off the bat. Harriet sat down on the floor next to Joan and shared a bowl of popcorn and a small pile of pillows with her. While the movie struggled to start—between buffering and Harriet and Joan hitting the remote several times while trying to get comfortable on the floor—they tried to get themselves situated (but, again, they were the reason the movie kept pausing during the beginning). Frida offered to share her popcorn bowl with CJ. CJ took a few pieces before the movie began, but she, apparently like Harriet, wasn’t much of a popcorn fan.

CJ didn’t pay much attention to the horror flick that Harriet had picked for them to watch. Harriet and Joan were huddled close together beneath several blankets. Harriet brought the blanket up to her nose while Joan leaned into her. Frida sprawled across the couch and munched on the popcorn, somewhere between frightened and entertained by the movie (and seemingly entertained by Harriet and Joan). CJ simply couldn’t relax like Frida had told her to; she gripped her arm and hunched over. She glanced at the screen every so often, but mostly paid attention to the other sleepover attendees; she was curious, to say the least, about their behaviors and how she should act at one of these such events. Normal behavior was subjective. Everyone had a different normal, but there was always a ‘socially acceptable’ normal regardless. Even then, their behaviors, in the moment, were based on the movie that Harriet had picked. CJ looked around the living room, taking in the large space, noticing the vague outlines of picture frames and home décor on the walls of the living room. It was a relatively plain, but well decorated home that Harriet lived in, with a lot of neutral colors.

CJ flicked her eyes back toward the screen as the credits started rolling; she tapped her fingers against her arm and looked over at Joan, Harriet, and then down at Frida.

“Oh, my gosh!” Harriet whipped around and grabbed Frida’s leg.

“I know.”

“I’m never sleeping again.” Joan said with a nearly flat affect. “Let’s watch another one.”

“Wait, wait, wait, we only have so much time before we can play Bloody Mary!” Harriet whined.

“It’s only 9:00.” Frida said.

Harriet gripped Frida’s leg tighter and grabbed Joan’s shoulder. “We need to play ‘Never Have I Ever’.” She looked up at CJ. “Are you in?”

CJ peeled her right hand away from her arm and pointed at herself.

Frida peered up at CJ with the most doting brown eyes. “Uh, yeah, she’s asking you. This sleepover is all about the four of us bonding because Joan is new here and you don’t have friends. What better way to bond than to play ‘Never Have I Ever’, right?” She grinned.

“I’m going to be honest; I’ve never played.” Joan said.

CJ pursed her lips and pulled the corners of her lips into a frown; she shook her head. “Frankly, the game doesn’t sound appealing. Can’t we play a normal game? Like Corporate Domination?”

“Ew, Corporate Domination ruins friendships!” Harriet spat.

“Pretty sure my foster parents put their biological children up for adoption after they played that game.” Frida added. “That’s the rumor at least.”

CJ blinked. “I don’t get along with my foster father, but he never thought to get rid of me over… a game… I-I-I don’t think.” She gawked at Frida’s potential truth.

Joan shrugged her shoulders. “Corporate Domination used to be fun. I think I want to play ‘Never Have I Ever’.”

“I don’t.” CJ said.

“So don’t.” Harriet told her.

“I won’t.” She stood up walked to around the couch; she grabbed her drinks off of the coffee table that Frida had moved out of the way. She tucked her water under her arm and held her tea in her uninjured hand. “I’m going to Harriet’s room.”

“Fine, we didn’t want you to play the game anyway.” Harriet said.

Frida shook her head. “Yo, that’s not what was said at all. You two are mad annoying.” She glanced between Harriet and CJ, questioning them both through her body language. “What’s your beef with each other?”

“She doesn’t want to play my game!” Harriet said. “This is my sleepover!”

“Sis, I sent her the invite, technically, that makes her my guest.” Frida argued.

Harriet huffed and pressed her back into the couch. “Whatever, she can do whatever she wants.”

“I’m going to sit in your room until you three are done playing your strange game.” CJ announced.

“You don’t even know how to play and you’re calling it strange.” Joan called her out.

CJ slowly began walking away from the other three adolescents. “But I have heard of the game, I’ve just never played. It’s strange.”

“C’mon, girl, one round.” Frida asked. “Then you can do whatever you want.”

“No.”

“Soooo, how do you play?” Joan asked

Harriet held her hands up, palms facing the rest of the teenage girls, to give Joan a demonstration as she explained the rules of the game. “You put your hands up like this and when it’s your turn, you’ll say something that you have never done. Everyone who has done it will put a finger down,” she demonstrated this by putting a finger down. “Whoever puts all of their fingers down first is the baddest bitch of all time.”

“And no matter what, you cannot lie.” Frida sat down and looked directly at CJ.

“What? I’m leaving.” She glanced between the sleepover attendees but lingered on Frida who kept a strong gaze on her.

“No, you ain’t. Sit yo ass back down. You’re not leaving me with these freaks.”

CJ stamped her feet lightly. “Eugh, fine.” She shuffled back toward the couch and sat down. She set her drinks behind her, leaning against the arms of the couch.

Joan shifted uncomfortably on the floor. She rubbed her fingers and looked away from the teenage girls. “Uh, so, this game seems pretty revealing…”

“It’ll be so good for us! Just don’t overthink it, Joan!” Harriet encouraged.

Frida nudged CJ with her foot. “Yeah, just loosen those lips and have a little fun, right Ceej?”

“Um, sure, I guess.” CJ gave one perfect thumb up with her right hand and one attempt with her left and a crooked, uncertain smile.

Joan motioned to CJ. “She’s not even sure!”

“To be fair, we don’t even know anything about her personal life.” Frida laughed dryly. “We’re about to know some weird shit about her and we don’t even know who her foster parents are, where she lives, or her last name.”

Joan knitted her eyebrows together and looked at CJ. “Seriously?”

CJ shrugged. “It never came up in conversation.”

“We go to Clone High, where everyone is a clone, and no one knows who you are.” Joan held her hands out toward her.

“Maybe you’ll find clues in our game?” She responded with ambiguity in her voice; she shrugged her shoulders. “I—the point is you’ll know the weird shit because it’s a sleepover related game. I don’t see the point in you all knowing my personal information…” She tilted her head to the side as her voice trailed off.

“Fine, fine.” Joan said. “Let’s play.”

CJ sat crisscross on the couch and turned ever so slightly to be perpendicular with Harriet. Frida was sprawled across the couch, but this time her feet were by CJ and her head was by Harriet. Harriet and Joan didn’t move from their movie positions, they simply turned to face the couch. The four adolescents held their hands up—with the exception of CJ who just held her one good hand up for the time being. The only light the four adolescents had was that of the TV, and hopefully it was good enough for their game.

“I’ll start!” Harriet announced with a slight chuckle in her voice. “Uhm, oh, okay! Never have I ever tried to make someone super jealous?”

Joan put her finger down and sighed. “Yeah, not my proudest moment.” She shook her head slightly. “I wish I did something different, but I’m happy with the way things turned out from it.”

“Wait—.” Harriet started.

Frida had also put her finger down and chuckled. “She didn’t say it had to be romantic.”

CJ raised her eyebrows. “Oh, you’re right, she didn’t specify.” She put a finger down as well.

“Wow all three of you! Frida, I knew about, but still!” Harriet laughed with some shock.

“I’ve got one.” CJ spoke up.

“Go for it!” Frida told her.

CJ nodded. “Never have I ever said ‘I love you’ to someone by accident.” She looked around at Harriet, Joan, and Frida.

“I’m sorry, you’ve said it to someone on purpose?” Joan asked with a raised eyebrow and a flat voice as she put one of her fingers down.

CJ shrugged her shoulders. “I can feel just like the rest of you, I just choose to be the way that I am, I suppose.”

Frida inhaled deeply and leaned back against the couch. “Ya’ll, I’m a bit of a klutz.” She put a finger down.

Harriet stifled her laughter. “CJ! You love someone? Romantic? Platonic? Do you have a secret best friend that’s like family to you?”

“I’m not answering any of that.” CJ stared at Harriet.

“I must know!”

“I have one!” Frida announced.

CJ nodded and turned her torso slightly to gaze at her. “Quick, before Harriet starts interrogating me.”

Frida nodded, grinning from ear to ear. “Right. Never have I ever met a celebrity.”

CJ inhaled deeply. “You guys won’t believe this but,” she put another finger down.

“Nuh-uh.” Frida said.

“Who?” Joan asked.

CJ pursed her lips. “This I’ll tell, but please don’t make fun of me—.”

“WHY WOULD WE MAKE FUN OF YOU FOR MEETING A CELEBRITY?!” Harriet shrieked.

CJ’s shoulders tensed at the sound of Harriet’s voice; she narrowed her eyes and leaned away from Harriet completely. “Erm… well…” She stalled.

“Tell us!” Frida pushed.

“I met Sir Christopher Lee at one of his last Comic Convention appearances, we had a duel.” CJ slowly looked toward Harriet, Frida, and Joan. “I spent several years training for that moment, I really hoped I’d be able to get to do that, I didn’t think it would have been probable, but it happened.”

Harriet shook her head. “You did what with who?”

“I have no idea who that is.” Frida said.

Joan pursed her lips and shook her head. “Nothing.”

CJ nodded slowly. “Well, not much of a thing, is it then?”

“No, not really.” Joan said. “Okay, I think I have one.”

“Go for it, sis.” Frida encouraged.

“Alright, I, um, don’t wanna knock anyone out right off the bat, except maybe CJ, so I’ll start with an easy one. Uh, never have I ever, uh, murdered someone.” Her smile grew with each word that came out of her mouth.

Frida and Harriet looked at each other and each put a finger down.

Joan looked at CJ and saw that she still had fingers up from her question. “Alright, come on, I specifically had that for her.”

CJ stared at Joan and spoke with a flat voice. “I’m a late bloomer, sorry. Grave robbing runs in the family though, which I do.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Joan looked back at Frida and Harriet. “Now, this,” she motioned to them. “You’ve killed someone? Both of you?”

“You grave rob?” Frida pointed at CJ.

“Joan just figured out our biggest secret during her first ‘Never Have I Ever’ and you’re worried about CJ’s hobbies?” Harriet hissed and smacked Frida’s stomach.

“Och—.” Frida rolled onto her back; she coughed. “Why do you even grave rob?”

“For science.” CJ said. “Why did you kill someone?”

“It was an accident.” Harriet glared at her.

“You’re serious?” Joan’s eyes widened. “And you believe them?” She looked at CJ and pointed at Harriet.

“Murder is a crime.” CJ deadpanned.

“So is grave robbing.” Harriet said.

Joan waved her hands in front of Harriet’s and CJ’s eyes. “Hello? Hello? Harriet and Frida murdered someone! Is this real? Are you pranking me? Are you using this to get something out of me?” She asked Harriet directly. She quickly turned to CJ and narrowed her eyes to her. “You’re in on this, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m not in on this. If I wanted to be in on some scheme, it’d be far better than this.” CJ spat.

“Oh, like your scheme to kill our principal? How’s that working for you?” Harriet got up on her knees and peered at CJ from overtop of Joan’s head. “Don’t think that the whole school doesn’t know about that, because we do!”

Joan gagged. “The way you said that made me think you were trying to say she’s…” she paused, not wanting to finish the thought Harriet had planted in her mind, “trying to seduce the principal with her deadly shenanigans.”

Harriet nodded. “I’m saying exactly that! She ditches class, she’s never present, she violets all of the school rules and the student code of conduct, she has done so many things that should have warranted her expulsion!” She waved her hands erratically toward CJ.

“What gave you that grotesque and nauseating idea?” CJ inhaled deeply after speaking. She felt extremely sick after hearing Harriet try to claim that CJ, herself, was trying to be like one of those young girls trying to fuck the school staff.

“Can you all just take a chill pill?” Frida slowly sat up. “Look, look, we murdered someone, yes. There’s no need to argue over who’s a whore and who’s not. Now cool your jets, girlfriends.”

Joan quickly rose to her feet and loomed over Frida. She grabbed Frida by her shoulders and shook her lightly. “I have so many questions. Was there anyone else with you? Any witnesses? Did this happen recently? How did you do it? Was it really an accident or were you just saying that? I need details!”

CJ slumped against the couch and failed to listen to the long, drawn-out story of their accidental and secret murder (well, she listened to most of it, just not the part about how Frida and Harriet met or the tandem bike event that they ended up training for which directly led to the accident itself). She barely listened to Frida’s warbled voice, rather focusing on the minor details of the story such as the murder itself and the fact that Harriet and Frida just up and buries the body instead of admitting to their training accident. She rested her hands on her stomach, breathing rhythmically, and getting lost in her own little world. Oh, to commit an atrocity such as murder. She would love the thrill—or she thought. She almost had Scudworth last week and the thrill just wasn’t there.

“I’m sorry, the fucking what?” She rolled her head toward Frida and knitted her eyebrows together as their most recent comment pulled her out of her thoughts.

“Ugh, get it together, CJ. The singles-doubles tandem biking competition.” Harriet snapped.

CJ scrunched her nose and drew her eyebrows downward. “You fucking people and your weird ass shit.”

“Can I continue?” Frida asked.

Joan nodded. “I’m so invested.”

Frida continued detailing the murder of an innocent bystander. In the rain! Where they obviously couldn’t stop in time because the ground was wet and muddy, and it was raining so apparently, they just couldn’t see him (it makes sense depending on where they were training). She concluded her tale by explaining their Wiccan-like ritual to commemorate the day.

“Sooo, now you know our biggest secret, who wants to go next? Joan?” Harriet leaned toward Joan and batted her eyelashes.

CJ laughed dryly and pointed at Joan. “Ah-ha, your turn.”

“Nuh-uh, I that’s not even a convincing story. Would you tell them your deepest, darkest secret?” Joan looked over at CJ.

CJ dropped her arm onto the couch and puckered her lips. “To be fair, I’m a little morbid, I’d want to see the dead body and then I’d tell my deepest darkest secret while reburying the body.” She crossed her arms and looked forward. She thought for a moment about what her biggest secret was—obviously aside from the fact that her clonefather was also their principal���that they accused her of wanting to fuck for a free pass to stay in high school. Somehow that felt worse than this alleged murder and whatever secret Harriet was trying to pull out of Joan.

“YES! You’re a genius!” Joan raised her voice.

Harriet and Frida glared at CJ for filling Joan’s head with that singular idea.

“Don’t even consider telling them anything until we get to the bottom of this!” Joan pressed her index finger to CJ’s nose. “They made this up just so you and I could tell them something juicy, I’m sure of it! It’s just like what Cleo used to do to me.” She pulled her finger away from CJ’s face; she hovered her hand near CJ’s face still.

CJ pushed Joan’s hand away from her. “Right, you’re really selling the whole ‘crazy’ bit.”

“I’m serious!” Joan pushed CJ’s hand back and grabbed her arm. She stepped toward CJ and placed her knee on the couch; she loomed over CJ, lowering herself with every word. “I know we’ve had out differences in the past, but we need to team up now, girls are horrible, they always will be.” She slammed her fist into the palm of her other hand.

CJ sunk into the couch and tucked her chin into her chest. She stared up at Joan with very small, shaking pupils, furrowed eyebrows, and the corners of her lips drawn back. Her left hand was curled against her chest, and she lifted her right hand, not yet doing anything with it as Joan’s sudden movements confused her.

“They’ve been friends with each other since they were kids, of course they want to know our deepest, darkest secrets. They want the juiciest gossip so they can spread it around and be the most popular girls in school!” She hissed. “They’re going to get you to say something that you don’t want them to know—something embarrassing, something personal—and they’re going to tell everyone!”

“You’re delusional!” CJ managed to say. “And suddenly you want to protect me—puh.” She tried to spit in Joan’s face and failed.

“Joan.” Harriet said.

Frida tried to pull Joan away from CJ. “Girl, get off the nerd.”

Joan cocked her head toward Harriet and Frida. “What do you want with our secrets?” She pulled herself away from the couch and away from CJ. She stood face-to-face with Harriet, while Frida peered over at CJ; CJ slowly slid off of the couch and lay down on the floor. She slowly raised her uninjured hand and offered Frida some semblance of reassurance that she was fine. Frida pressed a hand to her chest and exhaled deeply.

“This is all some kind of trap!” Joan continued. “Everyone is in on it!”

Harriet raised her eyebrows and nodded. “Right, of course. We only invited CJ because your boyfriend made a bet with her, remember, so if she’s in on it, so is he.”

Joan asked and covered her mouth with her hand. “You’re right. It is just you and Frida then.”

“That’s not what I said.” Harriet deadpanned.

CJ grazed her arm against the side of the couch and gripped the cushion. She pulled herself up and sat up. “If I may—.”

“STAY OUT OF THIS.” Harriet and Joan looked down at CJ.

CJ nodded and slowly lowered herself back down to the floor; she gave them a shaky and attempted thumbs up with her left hand while her right hand continued to poorly grasp at the cloth couch.

Frida flopped stomach down onto the couch; she rested her head in her hand and peered down at CJ “Are you having fun?” She asked.

CJ hummed and shook her head. “Not really.” She stared at the ceiling.

“Bummer, what would make this fun for you?” She asked.

CJ hummed again. “To be completely fair, I decline to answer. I’m just along for the ride tonight, so to speak. I think that’s what that means. I’m just here, I supposed is what I’m trying to say.”

Frida snorted and hung her hand over the side of the couch and tapped CJ’s arm. “I think it’s cool of you to set aside your pride and come over; I’ve never seen you so chill before.”

CJ shrugged her shoulders. “They sound like they’re going to rip each other’s hair out.” She pushed Frida’s hand away from her with her gauzed hand.

Frida took her hand away. “Obviously, you’re super great at keeping secrets and not telling anyone anything, can I tell you something super vague?”

“Are you sure you’re talking to the right person?” CJ glanced at Frida; she raised her eyebrow and scrunched her nose.

Frida nodded. “Hell yeah, girl. Look, look, look. I got this huge crush on someone, and I don’t think they even know I exist. It’s kinda stupid, you know what I mean? I’m supposed to be chill and all relaxed, but I get so nervous, and I don’t think I can even talk to this person. They’re so pretty. I want to tell Harriet, but she’s out here tryna get Joan’s secret, you know what I mean?”

“You can’t trust your best friend?” CJ asked.

“No—yes—I mean—.” She dropped her face onto the couch and stretched her arms forward. “I mean I guess I can’t, not yet.” She spoke into the couch cushion.

“You’re just trying to bully me! You’re going to bully someone like CJ, if not CJ! Wait, why do I care about that—You’re going to bully me! You’re just like Cleo!” Joan raised her voice. She pressed the tip of her finger to Harriet’s shoulder. “I won’t let that happen! I’m not going to have another Cleo! I will not be bullied this year!”

CJ narrowed her eyes and mumbled. “Why is she pretending like you can bully me?”

Frida shrugged and spoke into the couch cushion again. “I don’t know, man.”

Harriet slapped a hand to her forehead and looked toward the ceiling. “Oh, my head!”

“You’re being awfully suspicious!” Joan continued to accuse Harriet and Frida, despite only yelling at Harriet. “I won’t let you do this to me! Not to me! CJ won’t protect herself? I tried to warn her, I tried to warn her! But I will not be a victim to your games, girls have not changed!”

Frida rolled onto her side and propped herself up. “Joan, girl, we’re not being sus—okay, maybe we are because we literally murdered someone on accident. That’s sus, it’s sus. We’re trying to keep it a secret for a reason.”

“You know what, CJ was right, I want to see the body.” Joan crossed her arms. “Show me the body.” She demanded.

“Fine, we’ll show you the body.” Harriet snarked. “Put on your sneakers, we’re walking.”

“Awh, I only brought my chancletas…” Frida whined.

CJ slowly sat up. “I’m not walking,” she leaned against the couch to bring herself to her feet.

“We are walking.” Harriet began to raise her voice.

CJ shook her head. She stumbled around, not over, the mess Harriet and Joan left on the floor. Her steps were large and shaky because the room was fairly dark, and she had no idea where she was going or what was beneath her feet despite looking down. She grimaced. “Eugh, yeah, right. Walking, my ass. Put your god damn shoes on and get into my god damn car.” She raised her own voice.

“Coming.” Frida jumped off of the couch and followed CJ back to Harriet’s room.

“UGH!” Harriet marched after Frida and CJ.

The four adolescents reentered Harriet’s room and grabbed their shoes. Harriet threw on a pair of socks and her typical black flats. Frida threw on the chancletas she told them about. Joan sat down on the floor near her belongings and put her socks and knee-high boots on. CJ sat down in front of her weekender and put her socks and boots back on. Harriet and Frida were covered from the neck down in a union suit—matching, might CJ add—their pajamas looked warm, overly warm, fuzzy, and bulky. Whereas, she and Joan had a plain t-shirt and shorts; CJ, however, grabbed a hoodie from her weekender and threw it over her shoulder just in case the weather decided to be sporadic (or as the kids call it Florida Weather, unpredictable and nonsensical).

“Let’s go.” CJ popped up to her feet.

“I still think we should walk.” Harriet insisted.

CJ shook her head. “I don’t know what your obsession is, but I will gladly drive my car next to you while you walk.” She pointed her car keys at Harriet and walked backwards out of her room with Frida in tow.

Joan followed behind CJ and Frida shortly thereafter; then Harriet followed behind them, reluctantly, with no reason behind why she wanted to walk so badly to the unmarked gravesite. Frida’s chancleta’s flapped with every step that she took, jogging to keep up with CJ’s lengthy steps. Joan quietly followed along with her arms crossed beneath her bust and a bored expression across her face. And Harriet huffed, marching behind them all, still reluctantly. CJ unlocked her car from the front door of the house.

“Frida, passenger seat,” she instructed. “You two, back.”

“I want to be in the front.” Harriet said.

“No.”

“WAIT!” Frida threw her arms out and stopped everyone from proceeding toward CJ’s car. “The vintage pink mustang at school is YOURS?” She slowly turned her head to look at CJ.

CJ stumbled around Frida. “Yuh, get in,” she demanded again. “It was originally my cl-foster father’s car. It’s been sitting in the garage for years.” She approached the driver’s side of the car and popped the door open. She climbed into the car and looked over at the passenger seat and watched Harriet, Joan, and Frida climb in. “It was white but since I ‘inherited’ the car, I’ve been restoring and upgrading it. The stereo is modern, the paint job is obviously new, the leather on the seats is new. Did it mostly by myself.” She looked behind her and waited for Joan and Harriet to buckle in.

“And here I thought you were just boring…” Joan swiped her hand along the interior of the car.

Harriet put her hands on the headrest of the driver’s seat and peered around the seat. CJ shook her head and pulled away from Harriet’s house. She relied on Frida to show her the way—and preferably only Frida. Frida guided CJ through the neighborhood of nearly copy and paste houses up to the local trail in which CJ had to park her car so they could walk the rest of the trail on foot. The four adolescents filed out of CJ’s car. CJ popped her trunk and reached into it.

“Here, hold these.” She held a shovel out for the nearest adolescent.

Joan took the first shovel from CJ’s hand. “Never murdered anyone, huh?”

CJ handed the next three shovels to Joan and scoffed. “Grave robbing tools. I also have a first aid kit in here and several supplies to defend myself against supernatural beings.”

“Ghosts aren’t real.” Harriet told her.

“Says the one that wants to summon Bloody Mary.” CJ closed her trunk and locked her car. “When she appears, I’m going to give you a big fat ‘I told you so’.”

“Can we just go dig up the body and go home?” Frida asked.

Joan nodded. “Lead the way!”

CJ and Joan followed behind Frida and Harriet as they travelled through the trail down to the location of where Frida and Harriet had allegedly buried the body. Joan held the shovels the entire time and not once did she ask for someone to hold one or to trade off. Frida and Harriet were silent; Harriet was rather annoyed and was snippy with everyone who so much as tried to speak with her anyway. CJ enjoyed the temporary silence because there were no sleepover-related expectations that she had to fulfill. The walk itself was slow, long, and boring considering that it was a walk with nothing to do and none of the adolescents had actually brought their cell phones. The rain threatened to come as they neared the unmarked grave.

Frida looked down at the rectangular grave. “Do we really have to dig the body up?”

“YES!” Joan and Harriet yelled at her in unison.

Joan handed everyone a shovel and began digging; everyone followed in suit. CJ lagged behind everyone, gripping the shovel tightly with her right hand and barely holding it with her left as she still couldn’t use that hand, while everyone else shoveled normally. They reach the bottom of the hole where there was nothing, but an old bag of chips and an old soda can.

Joan stood in the deep hole and pointed up at Frida. “You two didn’t murder anyone.” She turned to face Harriet, who was in the hole with her. “You guys were just trying to trick me and CJ! Girl friendships really haven’t changed at all!”

CJ pointed her shoulder into the hole. “Something or someone was down there because there’s a bag of chips and an old soda can.”

“This was it! This was the spot!” Harriet panicked. “He was here! We buried him here!” She climbed out of the hole. “I don’t understand how there could be no body. How does a body just disappear?”

Joan climbed out of the hole behind Harriet. “Because there’s no body! You’re playing a game!”

A mysterious figure emerged over the curvature of the horizon and approached the adolescents on a bike; he pointed a finger at Frida and Harriet. “I know what you did eight summers ago.” Lightening crackled behind him, illuminating him from behind.

Harriet wrapped her arms around Frida and screamed at the top of her lungs. Frida grabbed Harriet’s arm and tried to shriek but no sounds escaped her mouth. Joan tried to jump into CJ’s arms; CJ was unwilling to hold Joan but was startled by the apparent dead guy approaching her and the three other teenage girls. Joan hugged CJ (rather than being held by CJ because CJ simply would not hold her bridal style) and backed up, dragging CJ with her. CJ stumbled back, lightly gripping Joan’s arm with her gauze covered hand.

CJ pointed at the mysterious man. “Bitch is a ghost.”

“CJ, get your ghost kit! Do something! You’re the ghost expert!”

“My car is too far, genius!” She started to raise her voice; she grabbed at clumps of her hair and pulled downward. “You people are going to die. And you’re going to be the reason I’m dead.”

“Unibrow, save yourself!” Frida sobbed and looked toward the sky.

Joan gripped the sleeve of CJ’s t-shirt and pulled it back and forth. “Do something, you’re the nerd!” She sobbed.

“The ghost came back for revenge! Frida and Harriet killed us all!” CJ grew hysterical. She hunched her shoulders and looked toward the sky. “I don’t even like these people! I just wanted to see a literal corpse, not a killer ghost!” Her voice cracked.

“I’m so sorry guys!” Frida sobbed.

Harriet shook Frida. “Oh, my gosh!”

Joan let go of CJ and turned around to wrap her arms around Frida and Harriet. She rested her head against Frida’s and sobbed. “I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you!”

“Eight autumns ago, you killed me.” The mysterious man drew closer to the adolescents.

CJ sniffed. “If someone makes it out alive, and it’s not me, can you make sure I make it onto Buzzfeed Unsolved?”

“At a time like this?!” Harriet raised her voice.

“I’M MAKING MY FINAL REQUEST!” CJ looked over her shoulder and yelled at Harriet. “I hope he takes you first for your rude comments tonight.”

“Woah, woah, calm down, all of you,” he chuckled. “I meant that you killed the old me.” The man laughed and removed his hood from the top of his head. “And I wanted to say thank you.” He pedaled closer to them.

Harriet groaned and slipped her arms away from Frida. “You’re not dead?”

CJ straightened her posture and wiped her eyes with the back of her gauzed hand. “Horrible really. A tragedy.” She crossed her arms and looked away from the mysterious, not dead, man.

The undead man laughed again. “Strange, isn’t it? The name’s Frederico! I really just wanted to thank you two for what you did for me. I was a miserable person before you buried me alive, and I thought I was going to die in that hole.” He explained. “I had no friends, no family that cared about me; I kept pushing everyone away, hurting everyone that I knew. So, I decided to change things after that fateful night.” He put his hands in the pocket of his pullover hoodie. “I even started to make healthier lifestyle choices!”

Frida gawked at Fredrico’s story. “What…”

“What I’m trying to say is, I’m happy now.” He told them.

Harriet looked at him, bewildered. “Huh?”

“I WAS RIGHT!” Joan threw her arms in the air and pointed toward the sky. “Ah-ha-ha! I was right! Yes, yes, yes!” She pointed at Frida and Harriet, grinning from ear to ear. She danced in a circle, celebrating her victory.

Frederico looked away from Joan and toward Frida and Harriet. “So, um, thank you two for saving my life. By, uh, burying me alive.”

Frida sighed. “Oh, thank God.” She pressed a hand to her chest and relaxed her shoulders.

Harriet laughed breathlessly and leaned on Frida. “This is actually such a huge relief. I’m so glad we don’t have to live with that terrible secret anymore!”

Joan’s laughter and celebration slowly died down; she turned her back toward Frederico and looked at Harriet and Frida. “Uh, ha-ha, I just wanted to say that I’m so sorry that I didn’t believe you.” She quickly wrapped her arms around Frida and pulled Harriet toward her hug with Frida. She pulled away from the embrace that she initiated. “I’ll tell you my secret, it’s just so silly in comparison… really. It’s so not a big deal in any way. At all.” She waved her hand and rambled on, even laughed, trying to convince them that her secret was nothing in comparison, but sounded completely suspicious.

“Dubious.” CJ told her.

“Okay, okay. I’m just gonna say it. I had a sex dream about Abe!” She blurted out. “And I liked it!”

“I knew it!” Harriet pointed at Joan. “I knew it! Ha!”

Frida gasped. “No!”

CJ stared at Joan with her mouth slightly ajar. “Whomst?”

“Ugh, no! Wait, wait, wait! It was just a dream! I was having sex with Abe’s head—literally—it was weird!” Joan tried to defend herself.

“Eh, we call that oral sex now.” Frida crossed her arms and shifted her weight.

Joan shook her head. “No, no, no. Like his head was giant and there was this lighthouse thing going on. So, there was no body and no limbs. But,” she chuckled nervously and placed a hand on top of her head. “You know how dreams are.”

CJ looked over at Harriet and pointed at Joan. “You’re excited about this?”

Harriet closed her eyes, pursed her lips, and nodded. “Mhm. Very.”

“Nothing is ever just a dream, Joan.” Frida said. “What’s in your mind,” she pointed at her head, “while you’re sleeping is what’s in your heart while you’re awake.” She pointed at her chest.

“Wait, what?” Joan’s eyes widened.

“She’s technically right, from a Freudian point of view. But you could also argue a divination point of view instead.” CJ crossed her arms.

Joan waved her hands in front of her body defensively. “No, no! Don’t agree with her! You’re supposed to use science and facts and tell me that this is all fine or something!”

CJ shrugged her shoulders. “To be fair I am the one that has a whole defense against supernatural beings in the trunk of her car and tried to lecture you all about witchcraft earlier.”

“Guys! Enough! This is officially the biggest secret I’ve ever been part of!” Harriet squealed; she held her fists up and shook them with excitement.

“Oh. Oh, no, no. Oh, my God. Oh no, oh no. You guys are going to tell everyone because it is so juicy! Oh man. Will you please just let everyone know that I still really like JFK?” Joan fell to her knees and begged Harriet, Frida, and CJ.

CJ knitted her eyebrows together and looked down at the ground next to Joan. “I don’t have anyone to tell, if I did, they’d all be right here anyhow.”

Frida laughed nervously. “CJ abides by the rules of the sleepover just like everyone else. Because a secret told at a sleepover can never be—.”

Frederico cut Frida short. “Yes, yes. We all know how sleepovers work! I’m just so sick of people overexplaining the rules when literally everyone—WAH!” He walked forward into the large dug-out hole that was his temporary grave.

“Frederico?” CJ peered into the hole.

“Fred? Clap once if you can hear me.” Frida popped her head next to CJ and peered down at Frederico.

Harriet looked between Frederico, CJ, and Frida. “Are we sure he’s dead this time?”

“I’d hate to bury him alive again.” Frida looked at Harriet.

“He isn’t moving or making any sounds.” Joan said.

CJ shrugged her shoulder. “Negligence. Bury him alive. Who cares.”

Joan marched toward the shovels. “I’ll get our shovels friends!” She picked up the shovels and passed three of them around.

The four adolescents began shoveling dirt back into the hole that the first dug out. They covered Frederico’s body with dirt and completely filled the hole with mud and the rain began to pick up the harder they worked at hiding the evidence.

Harriet glanced at CJ as she continued to dig. “When we get back to my house, you need to spill your deepest, juiciest secret. To make it even, of course.”

CJ nodded. “I can accept those terms.”

Once Frederico was completely buried, they carried the shovels back to CJ’s car through the muddied trail, sopping wet, with a new shared secret—but this time, at least for Harriet and Frida, it wasn’t as bad, Joan was not as excited to be part of it, and CJ didn’t seem bothered but being negligent for someone’s death. They approached CJ’s car again and she popped her trunk; she handed her shovel to Frida, who had all of the shovels. CJ, Harriet, and Joan climbed into CJ’s car, with Frida being the last to climb in as she put the shovels in the trunk. Frida directed CJ back to Harriet’s house through the raging storm that just seemed to get worse.

[xarrixii]

On the twenty-second day of Writemas a writing prompt game hosted by @agirlandherquill

"You would leave me in the cold?" Vaughn asked incredulously. He was met with the Bronze Bull's thick, helmeted stare. "The cold, cold basement of the Harkon estate?"

"Yes." The Bronze Bull hauled him up onto their horse.

Oh, well, that wasn't the most exciting.

He tried to pretend an open wound wasn't drifting down his leg.

"Would you at least grab me one of the green vials you were so quick to steal out of my cloak? Just one. I am in pain."

"You're a magician," the Bronze Bull lashed, seemingly offended, "use magic."

The confidence with which that absolute absurdity smacked into Vaughn's head was unsettling. Delivered like that was a normal thing that people did.

"Why in the hells do you think we use potions if mana was a sufficient healing resource?"

The Bronze Bull chose to ignore that mostly-rhetorical question and got on their horse's back with Vaughn. He raised one eyebrow at the gesture.

"How many people do you carry home this way that your horse is used to it?" Vaughn settled that he did not, in fact, desire to die on the back of some decorated knight's horse, and made to vaguely free his hand toward the wound on his leg. The Bronze Bull was not budging.

Hells, this is going to cause permanent damage.

"Not people."

"Oh, reassuring. Animals? Corpses? Monsters? Surely not, most of them are too big. Unless you like cutting them up. You have a workout routine? Horse fitness Mondays?" Vaughn was going to settle for trying to annoy this knight enough they dropped guard. He'd heard plenty about the Harkon cells and he was staying away from there for the rest of his lifetime.

Preferably quickly. He wished he'd popped a few more corks off his blues, would give him more time.

He could feel the mana draining from him, even after he finished knitting his muscles and skin back together with a magic circle. It throbbed and would probably end up being numb for days.

"I advise you lock that mouth of yours before a monster rips it off."

Vaughn chuckles. "Funny way of calling yourself a monster, though I sincerely doubt monsterweed would give you any positive effects."

That was an alchemy joke. The Bronze Bull did not like it. Like many of his other jokes, where he tried to get them to talk for more than a few seconds at a time so they would drink more water and hop off their horse, which seemed to uncomfortably be fighting them.

Eventually the horse denied the Bronze Bull the right to choose their destination, and they ended up at a house where the stallion wandered into the stable.

The Bronze Bull did not much like that, but they hopped off nonetheless and headed for the front door of the house, likely to apologize for the minor transgression of their uncontrollable horse drinking from an abandoned tin of water.

The horse kicked Vaughn off its back with a startle just as the Bronze Bull had decided to check in the windows and had busted down the door.

It neighed at him.

"I don't speak horse," Vaughn said.

It neighed at him again.

Vaughn blinked. Oh. He was suddenly left with nobody watching him.

"I can't tell if you're stupid or smart," Vaughn mumbled while shimmying uncomfortably from the ropes binding him. "But I do know that I like you."

He stood up, pat himself off, and took back his cloak and items from the horse's satchels. Standing on his leg hurt.

"Thank you very much." Vaughn bowed to the horse and ran.

That was anticlimactic.

related to story #1 on my pinned post

prompt: "You would leave me in the cold?"

join me (and several others) this writemas! write when you can and know we're writing together.

link to prompt post | link to writemas invite

[catboygirling]

HAPPY NEW YEAR DAMIAN!!! 3, 4, 14 and 18 for the ask meme :]

3. favorite line/scene you wrote this year

oh man, that's a hard one. give me a minute...

(some of these are kinda gorey btw, because this is me we're talking about)

from Aftereffects:

It was bad enough that Lucifer had to drag him to a party full of stuck-up Your language, Mammon! aristocrats, and even worse that he was expected to behave like that while he was there. A stern reminder not to pickpocket or swipe any valuable decorations was all that he expected. But no, apparently that wasn’t good enough for Lucifer anymore. Even if he didn’t swipe a single grimm, he was still too vulgar and crude and stupid to show his face at one of Lord Diavolo’s parties. In his current condition, at least. And the only way to change that was to… to… Mammon pulled his knees close to his chest, Stop slouching! his breaths coming in shallow gasps. He might have been crying. He wasn’t sure. He could hardly think. He didn’t want to think. He didn’t want to think about what Lucifer did- He could still hear the whip’s cracking, still feel it slicing into his back. Every one of Lucifer’s cold reprimands Watch your tongue! Stop making the silverware clatter! Maintain eye contact when you’re talking to someone! echoing in his ears, over and over again.

from Withered Clovers:

Even Clover herself didn’t have the clearest idea of what was happening. She was not smart enough to put her motivations into words, but she knew in her heart what they were. It was Beasts of England, long forbidden from being sung on any animal’s lips. It was the pigs, her rulers, her oppressors, now indistinguishable from the old ones she’d sought to drive out, all those years ago. It was Boxer. All congealed together into a final desperate cry, the wild slam of hoof against wood and flesh and bone. To the animals outside, it was simply that Clover had gone mad. That was what Squealer told them the next morning.

from A Bird Trapped In A Cage:

At first, it was more of the same. The Watchers stood around him, setting down mysterious items, chanting words he didn’t recognize. Soon he was floating again. As awful as it was to admit, Grian was used to the “procedures”. Even the pain, he’d grown numb to. And then it felt like his skin was ripping itself apart. Something was in there, clawing at the surface, trying to escape from the prison that was his flesh. Grian’s mouth filled with the rusty taste of blood. He screamed, thrashing in the air, but nothing made the pain subside. He heard it before he felt it - a horrible tearing as his skin was torn open. Along his back, on the sides of his head. And from the tears poured a cascade of blood, as dark as the depths of the night sky... and out sprouted new pairs of wings. 

from An Ending:

And still, the thought of Simeon being gone leaves a gaping hole in his heart that feels too deep to look into, lest he fall in and drown.

from Let Me Sleep:

And then Simeon kissed him. Right on his forehead, where he’d been brushing his hair away. And once again, the only reason Solomon didn’t leap up and demand an explanation was because he was too flabbergasted to do so. The weight suddenly disappeared from the edge of the bed. Simeon wasn’t saying anything. It was so silent that Solomon was beginning to wonder if he had been asleep all this time, and he’d dreamed up the whole encounter and just woke up to the empty reality of it all. But then he heard quick (almost panicked) footsteps, and the sound of his door slamming shut. Then dead silence again.

4. total number of words you wrote this year

45,713! the number has been steadily climbing since I started uploaded fics in 2020 (previous years were 35,250, 31,090, and 2,624), and I hope that upward trend continues!

9. longest wip of the year

well, that depends on how we define "wip." A Bird Trapped In A Cage is 10k and a finished part of a larger series, but "Mikeko" is 7k and the first chapter of a larger fic. strangely, despite being the longest, I wrote the latter in a lot less time than most of my finished stuff! exactly two weeks, from february first to valentine's! still have no idea how I managed that...

18. current number of wips

fuck. uh. *opens my wip folder*

ahaha. 32. (it was actually 36 a few weeks ago, so I consider this an improvement!) (and I'm not actively working on all of those, they're just... you know, the wips under the floorboard that will eventually drive me to madness)

[freshthoughts2020]

DON'T GET GREEDY AND WAX FOR NO REASON

DON'T GET GREEDY AND WAX FOR NO REASON

August 21, 2023

I.EVERYDAY I’M HUSTLING

In these survival days, hustling is all that really matters, and people hustles varies from person to person. No matter what hustle it is, don’t get greedy and start being super tax man, this is mostly in reference when dealing with celebrities.

You may have saw the video where Meek Mill is attempting to purchase the Nike SB x Air Jordan IVs (man those are some beauties) and the guy on the video wants to charge Meek the tax price. Meek urges that he can get the sneakers at retail from the store, so why would he pay him the tax price plus if he would’ve showed love, Meek would’ve been incentivized to shop even more with the young bull.

First, Meek is capping, you can’t get those sneakers at retail, maybe a lower price than what buddy was selling them for but they will be above retail, too much hype around them. These days everything work off hype. If you don’t get them at release you ain’t getting them without paying the resale ticket, unless the shoe sat on the shelf, you might get an under retail price.

Secondly, his point still stands and he’s absolutely correct in theory. Taking off shoe guy and putting it on general hustlers for a minute. When you are selling a product and its fire and consistent, eventually you will catch the eye of a celebrity, maybe multiple.

II.SHOW YOU HOW TO DO THIS SON!

I can attest to this personally multiple times, I’ll just use one example for now. Some years ago I drew a pic of YG and Kamaiyah. YG dm’d me about purchasing it you know of course I was excited. This was in early corner days too, so I first started getting celebrity attention/recognition. Before I could respond you know I told some of my people.

You know what they said instantly after I told them the news. “You need to charge him a band”, “Oh yeah he gotta at least drop 4Hunnid on the pic”, and other nonsense.

No disrespect to the people that told me this but this is why people can’t scale up because they wanna do stupid stuff like that and tax for no reason.

III.CAN’T TEACH NO ONE HOW TO HUSTLE..

Just because someone’s a celebrity do not mean you charge unwarranted high prices, it instantly throws smut on your name and can close doors that you ain’t even noticed that was opened. Let me explain why I didn’t tax YG in the first place.

1) the picture was only 8” x 10”, 2) that is a small picture , and 3) it was a sketch without much detail. It was colored and great in my style but my pricing is always on what I would pay for it. Also, the bigger the size the more it is reasonable to charge high prices.

I wouldn’t pay over a few hundred for a small picture unless it was by an artist whose work was unattainable, if it was to personally support an artist I know, or if it is extremely detailed but the canvas chosen is just small.

This particular picture did not fit my laid in criteria, if any normal person wanted that same picture I wouldn’t have charged them more than $50 at that time. Now he never followed through on the purchase but imagined if I would’ve came at him saying give me a rack for this. If he’s smart with his money, he would’ve instantly been off put and possibly stopped any other doors that could’ve been opened.

When it comes to celebrities you have to think more than the money, they carry an audience. Why do you think they get so many free items in the first place? They are walking billboards plus they can actually employ if you’re actually dope enough.

That YG interaction I had could’ve went a thousand ways, now it didn’t go anywhere but I definitely wouldn’t had helped if I came out the gate thinking “get as much money as I can out of him.” That’s short sighted, fast-money, flip everything thinking. You may get a payday but you lose out on the long term. I couldn’t play myself like that in life I think in long term for everything!! Its how I maintained the patience and faith to become a lawyer and run this website because there are extreme peaks and valleys!

So if you got a hustle going on learn from that vid with Meek and this article. Think about the bigger opportunity, think about what is attached to a person with clout, how doors can be opened if you treat this rare interaction the way its supposed to go. Don’t lose out your blessings beloved, Get money..

visit gettothecorner.com

follow me on Twitter (X) twitter.com/onlyonejaevonn

[the-literal-concept-of-morality]

I used to let my cat sleep with me in my room but she enacts war crimes while i sleep because i am asleep. She wanted my attention and affection from me not food just attention.

She destroyed my blinds multiple times. She claws my face in my sleep to wake me up. She tried to knock over a glass bong onto my head to wake me up. She missed, spilling gross bong water all over my pillow and bed.

She thinks she is the thinnest, skinnest cat there is in the entire world, with the grace and elegance of the leaves dancing in the wind to breeze through the maze of knick-knack, trinkets, gifts, and memories I have set up on the shelves of my room without disturbing a single item. But she isn't. She is a fat girl with a primordial pouch, which makes her look even fatter. She bumps and knocks over everything in her way. Making the loudest sound when she knocks over one of my multiple decorative metal containers making the loudesy sounds in the world, waking me up. Plants? On the ground, dirt spilling everywhere. Vases? Shattered in pieces on the floor. Plastic bags? Chomped, torn, and licked to death. TV's? Taking attention from her, will try to knock over. Food? Will get in your face and try to take it from you. She get on the counter and messes up my mothers plants to sit in the window where the plants should be sitting. She pull my parents clothes out of their dresser to manouver through the dresser drawers and be hard to find on purpose.

The worst part is that shes smart. She learned how to open the door to my room, making it useless keeping her out of my room, until i remembered i had a lock. She tries to open the door to the bathroom all of the time. She knows she can break the rules if im not around and does so often. Which is why we come home to messes all of the time. She will do something she isnt supposed to do in front of me and will turn around and look at me with innocent eyes like she knows if she looks cute enough i might over look this transgression. Shes also really stupid, shes an adult cat but she can't stop chewing on everything and has basically no teeth because of it. she has had no teeth since she was 2 years old.

She literally hates all other cats. Its a problem, when she tries to go outside, she tries to attack the outside cats immeadently leading me to grab her before any of them get seriously injured. She cant enjoy concrete time because of her bitchiness. She is also a menace to children, causing her to get kicked out of my brothers home and into my arms.

So yeah i dont let my cat sleep in my room anymore. Expect during the winter time where she sleeps under my covers between my legs, her favorite spot in the house when its cold. Its also the only time she isnt a bitch. Not really, she a bitch 85% of the time. She gives me little kisses sometimes.

if u let ur cat sleep w u PLEASE tell me why in the tags. if i let keppy sleep with w us we would wake up 1000x a night. banishment to downstairs with you foul creature

[yoshiko-and-the-hikikomori]

Headcanons List!! ☆

--> general tw for mentioning s/h

if the item has a star (★) next to it, that means its one that i, mod, have projected onto him. this means that he's probably ooc!!

this post from @/disabledstraydogs !! minus the selectively mute

Gifted kid burnout, which led to more anxiety being put on him- if he isn't an academic weapon, what is he good for? ★

He also came from a pretty religious family, which fucked him up 'cause now every little thing he does is watched, right? ★

I like giving him longer hair and more stubble than in canon sooo

He gets headaches and motion sickness really easily due to how long he stares at his screens ★

He's got acne scars ★ oh my godddddddd please i love adding little human touches to him. this doesnt make you any less beautiful in fact i love you more because of it dont even try me

He owns those dumb 'eat sleep play video games repeat' and 'i paused my game to be here' shirts because people bought them as a joke for him

REALLY bad anxiety and depression (which i mean. canon actually)

the previous point means that his physical health also is pretty bad because depression is a bitch and will make you unable to do things like eat, drink water, shower, brush your teeth/hair and we don't need to sanitize that its okay to be human ★

major eyebags!!!

He'll go through these phases where he'll eat a lot at once for a few days then eat nothing at all for another few days in a cycle ★

He got disowned when he turned 18 due to being a 'disappointment' so he dropped out of college due to the mental toll that took

He's actually pretty smart without his ability, he just doesn't believe it 'cause he feels like his ability is the only thing that makes him smart.

He uses really bad humor to cope with his feelings!!! ★

MAJOR sweet tooth ★ get that man away from nearby pastry shops. He sometimes visits them before they close/right when they open because there's less people, and the workers there know him by name.

He used to self-harm but stopped recently.

Can't roll a blunt to save him life (is he stupid??)

He's addicted to keychains.★ He doesn't have any bags to put them on (he doesn't go outside enough to need one) so he just has a corkboard with pins in it to hold them.

He picked up a whole bunch of hobbies due to boredom of being inside all day with nothing to do. He's mediocre at them, but it's a bit of enjoyment that's worth it.

that's it. that's the point. guys please do you hear my screaming into the void not everyone can be twinks. do we see the vision of the homebody who has self-esteem issues yet cannot bring himself to change it (due to depression immobilitating him). who has to learn to love himself. also i just think he's cute.

He writes fanfiction c'mon. Look at that man and tell me to my face he has not taken a crack at dear Archive of our Own to write tooth-rotting fluff. Maybe a sickfic even. Do we see the potential everyone.

Terrible vision, he can't even see his own feet in front of him without his glasses. He's not making it better with his ability, but oh well...

He hates eating fish ★

He has a box containing all of his old childhood toys buried into a closet after having put them away at the ripe age of 05 ★ (this one doesn't count for my other blog, @/yoshiko-the-blankie because he's 07)

He has a really bad problem with gnawing and biting- he'll bite at his lips (then wonder why they're bleeding and cracked-), inner cheek, or whatever he can get into his mouth at the time. ★

Uhhh bushy eyebrows because the guy i'm into has them. so he can too

ALSO I FORGOT WHEN I POSTED THIS. I REFERENCE KUNIKIDA AND KATAI'S MAGNIFICENT DAYS A LOT. AS WELL AS THE WAN! CHAPTERS (ESPECIALLY MIDNIGHT TENSIONS ('giant mushroom') AND STORMING KATAI TAYAMA NEXT DOOR!!!! okay thank you

he got bullied a LOT in high school

He can only sleep with white noise in the background and the room has to be FREEZING so he can curl up under all his twenty million blankets like a animal in hibernation ★

Dry ass lips... chapstick is like his number one enemy wtf ★

I'll probably add more when I think of them / they fit RP lore soo

flags by @/disabledstraydogs (my eyes have been OPENED)

computer divider @/bleedingspiral | tags?? if you're interested idk @no-ones-sunshine

[primalspice]

bruno: A1, A9, A13, B4, B11, C4, D4, E3, E4, F3, F9, G1, G4, H1, H8, I6, J6, L9

.

A1: What of the Meyers-Briggs personality types they most fit into? INFP, ENFT, et cetera…

ENTP apparently. Disgusting

A9: Does your OC make a lot of excuses? For themselves? Others? 

He wouldn't call it making excuses, he'd call it 'seeing things from a different perspective'. but yes LOL. He doesn't really give a fuck enough to go to bat very hard about a lot of things because he just does what he wants to anyway for the most part, but i think the not-giving-a-fuck also makes it easy for him to write a lot of things off as Not A Big Deal when they kinda are.

A13: Does your OC have any phobias? If so, where did they come from?

No, he's frankly a bit Too fearless. I think his gore-freak-ness is kinda fear-driven in a way though (but more primarily by other things). I mean it IS kinda freaky to not know whats going in inside your body every day.

B4: Do they tip well? How easily can they be moved to not leave a tip?

He tips pretty well, but also proportional to how much you let him small talk and lament about how tipping culture isn't such a thing in Europe and make stupid jokes while you're trying to do your job. He would only not leave any tip at all in extreme circumstances.

B11: Your OC is running late to meeting someone: Do they let the other person know? Do they lie about why they’re late?

C4: Do they consider themselves superior or more important than anyone else? Lesser?

I don't think it's a conscious belief that he holds but he Is very self-centered and he Does think that he's kinda ahead of the curve in terms of his philosophies and ideas. I don't think he realizes that the reason he's not often challenged by others is not because they think he's really smart and groundbreaking, but because they don't want to intrude on his weird fetish.

D4: Would they like to be immortal? Why, why not? If they are immortal, would they rather not be?

I think he'd find being immortal convenient terms of regenerating if gravely injured and being able to record what it was like, having endless time to discover things about the world, and generally not having to worry about what happens after you die, but I do think that his body rituals would lose some of their magic without the active defiance of death. So I guess the answer is Kinda. He thinks about it a lot.

E3: How many languages do they speak?

3 fluently; English, Spanish, German. I think he grew up speaking all three. He probably lies about speaking some other languages more conversationally than he actually can, as an avid traveler may do.

E4: Did they enjoy school if they went to it?

Not to make him sound like One Of Those but he enjoyed the learning, hated the structure. I think he attended several different schools since he kinda moved around a lot. He started going to college in the 70s so that was fun and enlightening for him 🍃🚬

F3: Could they ever live in a “tiny home”?

If trash being stacked to the ceiling doesn't disqualify him, yes. I don't think he'd enjoy it necessarily, but he really does not have many items that take up a ton of space. He'd do numbers on r/malelivingspace.

F9: Are they homebodies and enjoy being home?

He doesn't mind being home but he gets bored easily and stressed out by his own mess that he can't bring himself to clean. Needs to at least have access to a phone to annoy Caroline.

G1: Is your OC close to their family?

I think that his parents are both likely dead at this point + he strikes me as an only child, but I don't think their relationship was bad. I think most of his immediate family are also kinda eccentric and cultured so the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. I think they probably conflicted more when he was young and defiant and annoying but they were glad to let him fuck off and do his own thing once he graduated school. He probably visited them overseas on occasion. Yea that's right, oc with normal family relations. #sorry

G4: What kind of childhood did your OC have?

Pretty good and upper-mid class and cultured (his mental break did not come until later <3). I think he was born in Mexico and his family moved to Germany when he was a preeteen-ish?? Not due to parents divorcing or anything, they just moved around a lot for work. I think he spent a lot of time alone as an only child + not having a lot of time to make friends with all the moving + parents not always home to give him attention, but he had a lot of hobbies to make up for it. I guess the results of that + his extroversion and natural personality = having the most self-centered and grating personality possible as an adult.

H1: What is your OC’s orientation, romantic and/or sexual? Has it ever been a source of stress for them? Have they always been pretty sure of their orientation?

I think he's heteroflexible mostly in that he wishes he was gayer than he actually is for the sake of eccentricity and being able to own the homophobes in 2006. I'm sure he has Experimented. Goes to gay bars because he prefers the company. It is not troubling to him he loves sexual liberation and being contrarian. And also he's straight anyway.

H8: What’s your OC’s idea of a perfect date?

You go to a nice restaurant with him on the Vegas Strip per his recommendation then take a walk while he talks at you about his latest Ideas. You go to A HOTEL OR YOUR OWN PLACE (NOT his) and perform minor surgery on him and/or have weird old man sex. You never meet him again in-person but he can still text you about his latest endeavors to which you reply wow Bruno that's so cool good luck.

I6: Could they eat the same thing they enjoy over and over and not get bored of it quickly?

I think he likes to change things up as much as possible, he gets bored of Most things easily even if its yummy food.

J6: How do they react to people whose political viewpoints are very opposite of theirs?

Engage in smug debate :/

L9: How did you come up with your OC?

Appeared to me in a vision. I always need more mad scientist ocs. His gore freak developments are much more recent and mostly born of my desire to see more stylized gore art and thinking about how that may fit in with the original Themes and Ideas i was going for by making him a geneticist and ideas about identity and such. IDK. Everyone's still kinda a work in progress development-wise.

[gravltas]

It’s been a long time since Chuuya dropped his ( non-consensually given ) moniker of ‘King of the Sheep’, but even so, there were some things you just didn’t forget over time. Looking after people younger than you, was one of those things. He’d noticed the young teenager locked up in the basement before & for the most part he could ignore it. That’s what happened when members of the Port Mafia were too young or angry or too out of control & their powers needed to be locked away. He didn’t like it. He didn’t agree with it. But ultimately even as the Port Mafia’s current second longest acting Executive after Ane-san, he didn’t have the authority to overrule the person who had ordered their imprisonment, the Boss.

Still, he wasn’t completely heartless.

The basket he somewhat awkwardly shoves through the slot where the kid’s food tray was passed to them, contained an assortment of somewhat pricy goodies; chocolate, candy, a plushie of a purple dragon he’d spotted at the checkout that was kind of cool, a Nintendo Switch with a few popular games. There was also less fun items but probably still needed - a couple nondescript pyjama sets in their size, an oversized red hoodie, a hairbrush & package of ribbons, clips & ties, a little hand mirror ( plastic, he wasn’t stupid enough to give them anything that could be used as a weapon ), & some sanitary products because he wasn’t sure if the lower ranking mafiosi guarding the cells knew the teen’s name, let alone their biological information.

He’d done something similar for Q a few years ago, possible because the thought of a child being locked up like an animal made him feel a bit queasy.

There was also a notebook & a case of oil pastels & high quality markers. He didn’t know if they could draw, or liked to, but… well, writing had helped him get through a lot of pain, & he’d heard wrt therapy was good for kids.

“You’ve been in here a while,” he says as he leans against the locked cell door. “I know nothing can make this place nice to be in but I figured it might help you be a little less…” Bored? Sad? Afraid? He couldn’t pretend to know how they felt, he’d spoken to them all of maybe three times over the years. “…anyways, if you need anything & it’s urgent, the guards have my person number.“

kohaku is a feral cat of a person. they're cute but they do lash out with claws. it's best to approach them carefully. which chuuya does. kohaku eyes the basket for a second. gauging the level of peace offering brought to their barred door. they take it of course. looking through with swift fingers.

it's the hoodie that really does it. they slide it on, soft fabric adorning their skin for the first time in a while. they slide over their head immediately. shrinking into the red for a moment. before looking up at him. eyes shining just a little bit. they feel like a small genderless blob for the first time since they have been put down here. it's exquisite.

clothes in the port mafia are a luxury and a symbol. they try to ignore the ringing of mori's words in their ears. clutching the hoodie tighter and sticking their hands in the little pouch pocket.

" thanks. " it's a hard word to say out loud. they admittedly haven't been shown a lot of kindness in a while. but they want to make sure he's heard it before he leaves. kohaku is fairly smart or they would like to think. the jury is currently out on whether that's the truth. " i like it. "

but not biting the hand that let them have a hoodie that them gender euphoria. definitely going to try not to bite that hand. also they have the switch now, which is pretty cool. they've always wanted to play zelda. now they have the means to do so. / @chaosbled

[sanzako]

This is wonderful!

I want to add about the kind of puzzles you can encounter from different Zeldas and how that can affect the way each Link tackles a challenge (sadly I don't have much experience with the 2D games). These are all based in the regular editions (no Master Quest or HD) and my very subjective experience, so beware.

Ocarina of time (and Majora's Mask)

OoT was the first Zelda game I played, back in the N64. Most of the puzzles are solved by observation and heavily using the item you get in that particular dungeon. I remember having to travel some dungeons back and forth, revisiting many places I have traveled tons before but now with new information, an item, or key in order to advance. My bf is playing this game for the first time and now I realize how many things are not obvious at all. The game is full of hints, but sometimes they are very subtle and meant to be discovered by a trial and error process. You need to explore and it's not weird to stumble upon the solution by sheer luck (for example, he discovered you can fly with a Cucco by accidentally falling off a roof with one over his head). Time probably is used to find weird things everywhere that hopefully will make sense further in his adventure (then there is always the paranoia that maybe you are meant to solve them right now, and you are just not smart enough to do it.)

Wind Waker

Uhh, I did play this game, but I am not the best to talk about it due to some external, strenuous circumstances xD (I played with a broken controller that drifted to the left). The only thing I could say is that you don't want a vast sea where you can only move to the west haha.

Twilight Princess

Similar to OoT, but I think the puzzles are in general much more linear. Midna usually tells you where to go and how to do stuff, so it is hard to get stuck (I actually managed to get stuck in very stupid ways so maybe Midna was onto something). It followed the formula of "new item advances the plot", and you have to travel all over the world to do stuff, but most of the time just once (or you return but for something very small). I will have to replay this game to remember more.

Skyward Sword.

Fi spoiled a lot of the puzzles for you, which I guess in-universe made her extremely useful, but as a player was kind of frustrating. I think this game was more focused on the motion mechanics and dexterity skills than in solving puzzles. Still the mechanics were pretty interesting and it was pretty common to return to places you have already traveled, but now with some new challenges. It became a little repetitive, but it gave you the opportunity to appreciate those places. Also, the dungeons are gorgeous.

Breath of the Wild.

Oh boy. I think what sets it apart is it's biggest strength and weakness. Most Zelda games have only ONE way to solve a puzzle. Part of the challenge is to guess what the developers wanted you to do next. Not in this game. The freedom they give you means that you can solve a puzzle in many different, unorthodox ways. That's lateral thinking, baby! The bad thing is that most puzzles are auto contained in small rooms and can be solved from the get-go. The complexity and need to learn a large dungeon layout rapidly goes down. This means that Wild would probably be very frustrated with an unsolvable puzzle that needs a particular specific item that he will get later on. Probably he would just think how unfair is that if he has a pretty heavy claymore or boulder breaker with him, why does he need a sacred-fire-goron-magic hammer hidden in the deeps of a volcano to activate the switch that is right here.

Legend of Zelda I (NES)

I just recently started playing this one for the first time. What I found pretty interesting is that the items that you need to advance are not always where you would expect them. It's so, so easy to miss a plot relevant item just by going straight and not exploring everything. Unlike future installments that practically forces the important stuff upon you, this game is happy to let you fail for not being curious enough. Also, due to the memory constraints, you are basically out of any instructions and directions in-game. That makes it very confusing unless you have the manual (fortunately it is available in archive.com). There are a lot of hidden stuff that are really really hard to come-by. For example, there are some trees that you can set on fire that hide caves, but they are not marked in any way, and if you set on fire the wrong tree, nothing happens, not even a small indication that what you are doing may do something (the normal trees don't burn, so it's not hard to conclude they are not programmed to respond to fire). I think this is the reason why Hyrule seems to have a supernatural ability to find hidden stuff, this game basically requires that from you (unless you use guides, like I had to, specially in the overworld).

I have played small sections of the Oracle games, Minish Cap and Phantom Hourglass, but not enough to give a review. Hopefully I will play more of those at some point!

And of course, your mileage may vary, the experience playing Zelda games may be drastically different from one fan to other. Still, hope it helps!

Fellow Linked Universe fans, I have a favor to ask of you.

I keep thinking that I don’t know as much about the Links as I think I do because I’ve only played one of the games, so if any of you wouldn’t mind, pick your favorite and rant about their adventure!

If not, that’s okay, I’m still doing as much research as I can on them. I just want to also hear it from other fans as a sort of backup or confirmation thing for me to read later.

Thank you for your time!

[dreamofmetoday]

JOHNNY IDEAL TYPE READING

overall:

someone who is experienced in relationships - we learn a lot about how to behave in a relationship through experience and a lot of our teenage emotions calm down, so this is what he is seeking ideally. someone who values practicality, money, lifestyle compatibility and longterm goals over wooing and romancing (he doesn’t mind indulging in romance here and there but wants someone who’s more of a friend). someone who is proactive about solving disagreements and will meet him in the middle, someone who doesn’t get emotional and start huge arguments - he wants someone with a mature outlook (again, someone who has absorbed lessons from mistakes made in previous relationships). someone who is well-disciplined and isn’t impulsive. someone who’s intelligent and not a slow thinker. someone with good social skills. someone who is shrewd and can pay attention to detail (when it comes to longterm goals, such as money goals or home-owning, he doesn’t want someone he constantly has to guide or worry about). someone who can appreciate he's a catch but is mature enough to approach the relationship in a way where you know it might not be forever (in a sense, someone who puts in effort but is flexible and more practically, he could want a prenup).

turn ons:

someone who is clever and even good at manipulating others - when someone is really switched on, able to get others to do their bidding, able to get their way in meetings etc. (he also likes if he can picture someone who would be able to teach their kids to be really smart and shrewd). someone with a classy, feminine vibe. someone who is authoritative in a professional and amiable way. someone who can see extra meaning in life and can show they’re not simple-minded. someone who is focused on themselves and not what everyone else is doing. someone who is artistic and creative (someone who he thinks can come up with good business and marketing ideas). someone who can have fun and isn’t a huge rule follower (e.g. someone 420 friendly). a woman with long legs and bigger boobs.

turn offs:

someone who’s rigid and uptight, someone who is an obvious networker (he appreciates networking itself but doesn’t want them to come across as cold or amoral), someone who is too obsessed with showing off money and luxury items (too materialistic), someone who is harsh when they talk about their loved ones - e.g. if someone is complaining all the time about people they supposedly love or talking about them in a cold way (what they are good at or not good rather than their actual personality traits) he gets put off and questions it. when someone views the give and take in a relationship as too transactional (e.g. if someone said, “i will cook you dinner on saturday if you buy me roses on friday”, it’s really off-putting to him and he thinks this should be more fluid). someone who is naive and has no standards - someone who sees the good in everyone is stupid to him and likewise, he thinks someone who goes out of their way to help random people or acquaintances the same way they help their loved ones is desperate and weird. a woman who has a broad build.

[auntphibian]

Playing a Bard Tips!

not Scanlan but want to play a really good bard? read ahead!

so I LOVE and I mean LOVE playing bards. Bard and Paladin are my fav classes to play, but honestly I would say I’m best at bard. literally every DM I’ve played a bard under has complimented and given me special items because of how I play and I think I can give some handy tips. 

tip 1: use rhymes and this cite specifically https://www.rhymezone.com/ 

when giving bardic inspiration I always (except a few times) have a rhyme to go with it. saying “I play my lute” is fine but making little rhymes really pulls other players in. it’s also way easier than trying to write an entire song like Scanlan does, plus I can’t sing and it doesn’t take up as much time. 

tips for rhymes, find words you associate with each PC. 

look up rhymes for fighter, ranger, cleric ect. and try to make it fit. for example “he’s rather esoteric, our cleric, far from generic, and never barbaric, he’s calm even when I’m hysteric”. all of those come up when you look up Cleric. it’s a short inspiration that can fit most clerics but will make the one you’re inspiring feel good.

rhyme with names. names especially make other PCs feel good because it’s generally unique to the character. however names are hard because rarely will names fit perfectly in a rhyme, so just grab the last part. like if their name is “Zaram” you won’t find a rhyme, but you will if you look up “ram”. of if their name is something like “Garcar” pronounce it out loud and find a word that sounds like the last part. “car” is pronounced like “sar” which sounds like “Czar”, now you have a rhyme. “my friend Garcar, is a little bizarre, but careful if you Spar, because he’s a rock star”.

situations are great too. This could be based on the mission or recent RP. if you’re fighting vampires look for vampire rhymes, if you’re fighting goblins look for goblin rhymes. An RP example, in my current bard, Meku’s, game the barbarian said something like “I longingly look at the hammer” so my rhyme was “making quite the clamour, I don’t mean to yammer, but you seem enamored, you really want that hammer!”. It adds to the RP they already started and makes them feel heard. 

Tip 2: tell Jokes

I always play horny bard characters so my jokes are usually dirty jokes, but this doesn’t just apply to that. Really lots of situations call for jokes, or you can just make it a character trait they always tell jokes. This really brings RP out of people. Similar to before, look up jokes based around class, RP, or situation. A PC likes jewelry, look up jewelry jokes. Dumb blonde jokes can become dumb barbarian jokes. Fighting vampires, look up vampire jokes. Call out who you want to RP with like “my PC scoots closer to other PC and nudges them saying ‘There’s a bunch of food set out, we must be in the vampire’s casketeria!’” this will ALWAYS get a response. A groan, a “they roll their eyes”, a “they laugh”, or anything else. Now you have a dynamic set up with that other PC. 

This can happen during combat too. Spells that involve talking, like silvery bards, vicious mockery, or really any, can just have you making a joke as your spell casting. For example I like the Spirit bard subclass, in it you have different tales on a chart. So I looked up jokes based around those charts. One was “clever animal” so my joke was “people say dolphins are as smart as humans but I think they’re jumping to conclusions”. This led to the party talking about what a dolphin is and how smart they might be. It was fun, simple, and relaxed RP that made the party feel closer. 

Now jokes are hard, I suggest just stealing off the internet. You don’t have to be crazy creative with it or anything, if anything stupid jokes are more fun. However, you will have duds. There will be times where your jokes aren’t recognized and you will feel crummy. Just move on and don’t let it get you down. 

Tip 3: give gifts!

I can’t express this enough. Non-mechanical gifts do WONDERS for RP. Most of my bards make friendship bracelets for the party and this always goes down amazingly. A special card or pressed flowers, or a trinket made into a necklace, all things that will really just make the other PCs feel special. I’ve had campaigns end where the PC describes being buried with their friendship bracelet. 

Also, make a big deal of it if someone gives your PC a gift. Talk about them putting it on the desk in their room, or a special pocket. Say “thank you” in whatever way feels character appropriate. If it’s a big deal to your character say they tear up, if it’s small slap their shoulder, that sort of thing. 

I’ve never had a DM charge my PC more that a silver for these sort of gifts because they recognize that it’s good for building party cohesion. 

Tip 4: fashion

Give your bard a style. This could be a cowboy, or Gucci, or like a fool, or in Meku's case, like a spirit Halloween store. It makes them stand out as an individual but also gives other PCs something easy to work with. You make a bad joke and they say “oh quiet cowboy”. 

Speaking of cowboys, make your character wear a hat of some sort. There is so much description you can do with a hat alone. Someone casts gust, “my character holds their hat in place”. Under the frightened effect “she hides her face in her hat”. It’s also a easy target for other PCs. a rival PC might teasingly knock it off their head, one might ask to wear it, other might brush it off for you. It’s a very stylistic item that doesn’t have to be tracked or anything so it makes just randomly bringing it up easy. I’ve had other PCs start wearing the same style of hat as my PC. 

Ask other PCs to help with style. If someone mentions their character’s hair cut, say “oh my god it’s beautiful, could you style my hair”. Y’all, a hairstyle is the strongest of RP bonding things. I guess because it’s almost always visual so all PCs have thought about it. From “let me braid your hair” to “can you cut my hair” or “what products are you using” it’s amazing. It can really apply to any aspect of style but hair is just a insanely easy and simple way to build a bond between PCs. 

Lastly, have a key color. This is super important in my opinion. Give your bard a favorite color and use it OFTEN. Meku’s favorite color is purple. All her magic is described as purple, all her clothes are purple, if she’s buying an item she asks for purple, ect. It’s again super easy but a huge way to make your bard stand out within the party and seem extra charismatic. 

Tip 5: describe EVERYTHING

You don’t need to write a novel's long description or anything but every little description makes you seem more charismatic. When Meku casts dimension door I say “you see a sparkly purple door open up as she uses dimension door.” polymorph, her animals are always described as purple and sparkly. Last session had a good one, she used heat metal then fire bolt I described it as “she glares at the man, blows into her cupped hand like she’s blowing on a ember. Then removes a hand and flicks her middle finger up with a fire bolt going into his face”. It’s not super long but adds a lot of character to the bard and adds visually to a fight. It also got a few laughs because it killed the guy. 

I recommend giving your character an element or material as a theme. I’d clear it with the DM that you aren’t changing damage type, just taking creative liberty with description. If your bard is water themed, describe things like cure wounds as “a faint mist sprinkles over you and you heal for__”. Eldritch blast could be flicking water droplets off your hand. Heat metal could be boiling water, haste could be tossing them a drink. These small things really just add a lot. 

Feel open to act a fool. I’m sure a stern bard can be fun but I have the most fun playing the class clown style bard. You fail a dex check at catching something, say “I got it!! Uh.. oops” or “she puts her hat up like a shield and gets knocked on her ass”, “eats dirt” is another good description. It makes your character seem endearing and makes you seem really good at handling failure. In a weird way it makes your character cooler. A stern fighter who is gruff and strong getting knocked prone will seem embarrassing because the character is supposed to be cool and competent. A silly bard getting knocked over then making a joke as they jump back up makes it seem like nothing can affect your character. Everyone will fail at some point so being foolish with the failure just makes the character seem more charismatic. 

Tip 6: have a journal or doc 

I always make journals for my bard and bring it with me. In my spare time I’ll write down jokes or rhymes or descriptions of spells. I divide the journal up, spell descriptions in one part, jokes in another, and inspiration rhymes in another. Divide inspiration rhymes up by PC and have a general section as well. Cross out or add a checkmark when you use the joke or rhyme so you can keep track of what you’ve used already. For spell descriptions just add a brief description and have it handy for when you cast. “Mending looks like bright red thread weaving through the material and magically joining it together” then when you use it say “you see red magical thread sew the two parts of the page back together”. I forget to describe spells a lot so having the page open helps you make it fit the situation. 

Inspirations are especially important to write down. I have been playing bards consistently for the past 5 or so years on a weekly basis, but even I have a hard time coming up with a rhyme in the time it takes to get to my turn. Have back ups written down. Sometimes you’ll just need to be honest and say “I don’t have a rhyme right now, but inspiration to pc”. However you look like the best player in the world if it’s consistent. It’s not a ton of extra work but it seems like it in the moment to everyone else. And they do appreciate it. I get DM inspiration frequently because my DMs really do enjoy my silly 4-6 line rhymes. I do keep rhyme zone pulled up with my dnd beyond so I can make a spur of the moment rhyme, but most of my rhymes were thought about at work, or school, or while driving, or wherever.

[httpdabi]

Break up

Summary: After having a messed up break up, your best friend Dabi is there to comfort you, and give even more than you asked for.

Word count: 5,2k

Genre: romance, smut, no quirks haha

Warnings: 18+, creampie, public sex, spitting, choking..

,, I fucking hate him’’ you cried loudly, mouth full of ice cream as you talked to your cousin over the phone. At this point you didn’t care of how loud you were, and you didn’t care about the fact that your cousin had a hard time understanding you since you were a crying mess. Sobbing loudly, you ignored the words coming from the other line.

,, That bitch cheated on me with Toga, can you believe that?’’ you sobbed, tears rolling down your cheeks as you wrapped yourself with your favorite comfort blanket.

,, The girlie with weird hair ?’’ your cousin asked in shock.

,,YES, the fuck she thinking she’s the fifth element with that hairstyle?’’ you choked out, throwing the empty package across the room, as your cousin giggled because of your remark. She wished she was closer so she could pay you a visit, but sadly miles and miles were separating the two of you.

Sure, the first person you wanted to inform about your breakup was Touya, but you couldn’t force yourself to bother him, knowing he’s probably on work. You knew very well that he would drop everything and come over, saying how he doesn’t feel well or some other shit, and you didn’t want that.

After the call ended, you stood up, ignoring your reflection on the window, knowing very well that you look like shit right now with all the smudged mascara over your face. Tears started rolling down your cheeks even more when you saw that there’s no ice cram anymore. What did you do to deserve such a torture.

Wearing your hoodie, you made your way toward the nearest store, ignoring the people that were giving you weird stares because of your silly Sailor Moon pajama shorts. You couldn’t care less of what anyone thought in that moment.

You went to the store with the intention to buy ice cream, only to end up in the part of it with variant different choices of hairdye. So many ideas were going thru your mind, as you looked all over it. You almost ended up buying the pink dye and some bleach, until you saw scissors hanging beside the bleach.

Grabbing the scissors only, you hurried up to pay everything you chose, rolling your eyes shamelessly as you saw Rumi, the cashier of the fucking day. For some weird reason, you almost hated the muscular bitch. Maybe it was because she never had the exchange to give you back, giving you a pack of gums instead. Maybe it was because of her attitude, always giving you some smart comments, how your skirt is too short, how there are kids here, or even because she always rolled her eyes when she saw you coming in.

,, Looks like someone had a rough day’’ she commented sarcastically, as you gave your best to keep calm and ignore her. After the comment, she shut her mouth and did her job.

,, Sweetie, can you help?’’ she asked, suddenly with a cute tone, when her co-worker asked her to bring him few paper bags that were beside her.

,, No, you are doing great’’ you spat, grabbing all of the items as you hurried out of the store. The fuck would you help her? She’s getting paid for it, not you. Stupid bitch.

Placing the ice cream into the freezer, you immediately made your way to the toilet as you unpacked the scissors almost aggressively. Why would you dye and ruin your hair with bleach, when you could just cut off a bit of your hair, which meant the exact length of his dick.

Your hair was already long, and the fact that his dick wasn’t that big meant that you would only cut few inches. After short calculating, you grabbed the scissors, as you turned some silly tutorial on Youtube. Watching yourself in the mirror, you cried even harder, not because you regretted your decision. It was more because you looked like a lunatic.

After you finished, you immediately washed your face, cleaning all the ruined make up. Sure it didn’t look like a professional person did your hairstyle, but it didn’t look bad either, in fact, you liked it.

Since you weren’t in the mood to do your make up, you only put a bit of face cream over your face, and bit of mascara to make your eyes pop up a bit, before you took few selfies to post on instagram.

You were too lazy to do it, all you wanted to do in the moment was cry some more and eat ice cream you just bought, while watching something on Netflix. But you had to do it, you had to embarrass him as much he embarrassed you.

,, Not gonna miss those 5 inches, Kai.’’

You wrote, laughing ironically at the caption under your selfie. It wasn’t the best selfie you ever took, but at least you didn’t look like you were suffering because of the breakup, and the much shorter hair was visible on it.

[cyxnaf] Touya Todoroki

,, What happened?’’

It wasn’t even a minute since you posted your photo on the instagram, and your best friend already messaged you there.

Bitch cheated on me

You replied, sending him a crying selfie, with a spoon in your mouth.

[cyxnaf] Touya Todoroki

I’ll be there in 15 mins

A smile crept on your face, as you read his message. You loved him more than anyone or anything else on the whole word. If it was someone else coming over, you would probably force yourself and clean the apartment. But since it was Dabi, you didn’t give a shit.

The moment he arrived, you started bawling your eyes out. Having a face to face conversation with someone, talking about the break up made your feelings awake again. Dabi in other hand tried to make you feel better, bringing you your favorite snacks, and trying to put Kai down.

,, I’ve never had drama, unless it’s with my inner self’’ you cried loudly. ,, And all of sudden, I’m being cheated on.’’ Adding you grabbed the chips from the paper bag and opened it almost aggressively. Touya laughed you out, pointing every drama you’ve been connected to.

,, Stop it, you’re supposed to make me feel better’’ you slapped his arm lightly, as he talked about the drama that happened back in high school, when you got into a huge fight with a girl that called your dog a rat.

Once Touya realized that your mood was only getting worse, he turned some documentary on Netlfix that he started watching few days ago, explaining everything about it to you. You couldn’t help but smile, as you listened to him explaining every small thing, making sure you won’t be confused once he plays the episode.

,, You only watched few episodes of one murder documentary and you think you’re Mr. worldwide intellectual.’’ You laughed, as he tried to explain professionally.

,, The fuck you talking about ? The only documentary you watch is Keeping up with the Kardashians, so shut the fuck up’’ he spat, rolling his eyes playfully as he played the documentary.

The thing he played was about some murder, nothing you would watch on your own, but you didn’t mind. Seeing him talk about it so excitedly made your heart warm and in that moment you didn’t care if you won’t be able to sleep next few days.

You always loved spending your time with Touya, you simply loved how even when none of you had something to say, the silence was never uncomfortable. Even just sitting with him was making you feel safe.

,, You really choped your hair’’ he said, as he started to play with your hair. Being tired from all the crying and with his gentle movements, you were not capable of replying, simply nodding your head in response.

,, It looks good on you’’ Touya complimented you, placing a soft kiss on top of your head. He noticed that you were zooming out, so he just continued to caress your, helping you fall asleep.

All the horrible thoughts he had washed away, once he saw your sleeping face. He could only smile to himself as he noticed how puffy your face got from all the crying. Sure, it wasn’t that visible, but he simply noticed it and found it more then cute.

He tried to act calm and suppress his feelings, he tried to be there for you, but when you talked about what happened, all he wanted to do was find that piece of shit of your ex and simply kill him. He couldn’t understand how did you always manage to find some weird boyfriends that didn’t appreciate and treat you as you deserved.

If you only gave him a chance, he would always be there for you, he would simply give you anything you wished for. Touya never understood how could you be so blind, never once did you notice his feelings for you. Never once did you question his behavior.

Every time you called him over, he would ditch all his plans and run to you. Every time you needed something, you knew very well that only Touya will help you 100%.

You woke up in your bedroom, a little bit confused about what time it was and if your best friend was still there. Taking your phone to check what time it is, your eyes widened when you saw a Instagram notification from Kai. That piece of shit had balls to like your photo.

Throwing your phone away, you started crying again, wishing the day you met him never happened. You wished you listened to your best friend when he told you that Chisaki ain’t the one for you.

,, You ok?’’ you heard Touya’s voice under the loud TV noise. In just a second he was beside you, warming your body with his own and wrapping his arms around you, telling you how everything is ok and how he’s there for you.

,, Come on, stand up’’ Touya commanded suddenly, forcing your upper body up. ,, We are leaving’’ he added, forcing you out of the bed. You were too confused to even think at that very moment, but you found yourself following his lead. Wearing one of your very oversized shirt that covered more than enough, you hurried out of your bedroom to Toyua who was waiting for you already all ready.

You didn’t know what was happening, and the pack of eggs in his hand was confusing the shit out of you, yet you found yourself in the passenger seat, doing whatever Touya planned at that moment.

,, Where are we going ?’’ you asked, tears long gone.

,, We’re egging his car’’ he said, as your eyes widened in shock.

,, Is that even legal?’’ you asked again, already all excited about it.

,, Nope’’ Touya laughed out, focused on the road. You were sure that Kai would know it was you, definitely. But he also won’t have balls to call the police on you, since you knew about all his dirty deeds, you knew about all the drugs he’s taking and having hidden somewhere in his house.

Kai didn’t live far away from you, so in only few minutes of drive the two of you found yourself in front of his car. Lighting one cigarette, Dabi took the paper that was placed on the windshield.

,, Stop perking on my spot’’ Dabi read out loud, pointing out the word he wrote wrongly. You laughed loudly as you remembered about Kai telling you about some dude parking his Motorcycle in front of his car, making it hard to get out of the spot for him.

,, He can’t write, but he can do meth I guess’’ you laughed, as Touya puffed on his cigarette.

You stood there close to Kai’s car, as you waited for your best friend to finish his cigarette. It was a quiet night, with no people around at all. Maybe it was the adrenaline that was rushing in your blood, or the fact that you spent all day crying like a mad person, but in that very moment all you felt was anger as you thought about your ex.

,,Here’’ Touya gave you the package, still smoking that cigarette. You weren’t sure if he took his time with cigarette or if the time was simply passing so slow for you, since he was a pretty fast smoker.

To his surprise, you grabbed one egg and immediately threw it on his car, making him rise his eyebrows and laugh in shock. You never did something like that before, so you didn’t really understand why the alarm didn’t go on. Was your throw too weak?

A huge grin formed on your lips as you threw another egg, you couldn’t stop the evil laugh as you watched the egg yolk all over the window and in that moment you wished you had rotten eggs instead. Watching you happy like that, Touya couldn’t hide his smile. He was almost sure that everyone could read his emotions, he was sure that everyone could say how much in love he was with you.

You were on your fourth egg when Touya took one from the package and threw it. You weren’t sure if he threw it with much more force, or if he already did this before, but when the egg hit the car, loud alarm took over the peaceful night.

,, Shit, we have to hurry’’ Touya said under his breath as both of you threw one more egg. Sure, Kai won’t call the police, but if someone else saw you, they sure will.

You were laughing loudly, as you took your last egg, ready to throw it while Touya explained to you at what you should aim for.

,, HEY’’ you heard a familiar voice, coming from the building you used to spend so much time in. Not even turning around, you threw the egg and rushed to Toyua’s car, hopping fast into passenger seat. The moment Kai got out, everything happened too fast.

You wished you could take a photo of his upset face as he looked over your car. You were sure that you never saw him mad like that.

,, YOU FUCKING SUCK’’ he yelled once he turned the alarm off, while Dabi was ready to drive off, laughing loudly with you.

,, AND YOU SWALLOW BITCH’’ you yelled, popping your head thru the window. Touya gave you a bit time to flip him a bird, before he drove fast off, leaving your ex boyfriend pissed on the road. Laughing loudly, you leaned back into the seat, satisfied with the little event your best friend thought of.

,, You are seriously the best’’ you said, still smiling widely. Touya nodded his head, focused on the road. Every time he took a look of you, his heart would skip a beat. He was so fucking glad that you weren’t sad anymore, at least not for now.

You weren’t sure what had he planned next, since he wasn’t driving back home, but you didn’t care. You enjoyed his company, and you enjoyed the fact that you felt nothing else beside happiness in the moment. It was weird how fast emotions were taking over you. Just one hour ago you were a crying mess, and all of sudden you found yourself enjoying the night with your best friend.

You didn’t even realize how hungry you were, until Touya stopped by McDonalds to buy some food. Once he came back, placing the milkshakes and paper bag into your lap, you almost started drooling from the delicious smell.

He parked on the spot beside lake, where the two of you usually come to chill a bit. The music played on the low as the two of you ate slowly and talked about casual stuff. The moment a song from the famous tiktoker started playing in the background, you wished your hands weren’t so oily from the food. You wanted to change the song, but you didn’t want to make your phone oily, you weren’t even sure why you had that song in your playlist after all.

,, Does this song bother you?’’ he asked, taking a sip from his milkshake.

,, Yeah there’s a word that’s pissing me off’’ you rolled your eyes in annoyance.

,,Which one?’’ he asked confused.

,,When she says This ain’t build a bitch, you don’t get to pick or choose, what she should have said is nothing and just never release that stupid song’’ you hissed, wiping your hands as you changed the song that was pissing you off so much.

,, You are so cute’’ he complimented you, as both of you placed the rest of the food in the paper bag. Everything you did was cute to him, the was you sneeze is cute to him, the way you rise your brows when you are surprised, the way you laugh at your own jokes sometimes. Everything.

,,Did you know that Yumi got pregnant ?’’He asked you suddenly. Your eyes widened in shock, as you heard him ask, not because it was weird or anything like that, the two of you always gossip, but because you knew Yumi so well. You weren’t best friends with her, but the two of you would casually meet up.

,, Wasn’t she on the pills?’’ you asked, covering your mouth with your left hand. ,, Oh fuck no, I don’t claim this negative energy’’ you gasped shaking your head as Dabi laughed at your sudden reaction.

Talking about pregnancy and sex, you found yourself thinking about the last time you slept with your ex. You didn’t feel any sadness, all you felt was disappointment and anger. Just the thought that he was the last one inside you was making you mad, and the fact that only god knows when will you sleep with someone again was making you mad even more.

It’s not that you were a prude, or that you had something against one night stands. Sure, you could install Tinder and just find a quick fuck, knowing very well that the thought will bother you until the problem in your head is solved. But you weren’t the one to jump under the covers with a complete stranger.

,, What’s up?’’ Dabi asked once he saw you confused and lost in your thoughts. Hearing his voice, a sudden idea popped up in your head. You shook your head, trying to not think about it. He is your best friend for fucks sake, you can’t use him for something like that.

,, Nothing’’ you shook your head once again, trying to avoid his eyes.

,, Oh come on, tell me’’ he said stubbornly, as he placed his cigarette between his lips.

,, You know, the fact that Kai was the last person I had sex with, and the fact that I don’t know how long it will stay that way is bothering me’’ you confessed, skipping the part with the rest of your thoughts.

,, and you thought I could help you with it’’ Touya joked, as he puffed on his cigarette.

,, How did you know?’’ You asked way too fast, regretting it almost immediately once he almost choked onto the air and the smoke of his cigarette.

,, You can’t be serious’’ Touya said under his breath, closing his eyes as he spoke those words out. You weren’t sure why, but your heart sank a bit once you heard him say that.

,, Ah come on, it can be a quick fuck, it won’t change anything between us’’ he whined, turning your body to his direction. Once you said that, Touya grabbed you and forced you into his lap. You were more then shocked by his action, but you still positioned yourself comfortably in his lap, not sure if you should say anything or just wait..

,, You think I’ll be able to go back after it ?’’ he asked, one hand holding your waist firmly, and other holding his cigarette. ,, Doll, you should know better than anyone that I don’t do quick fucks’’ he added, as his grip got stronger. You weren’t sure if you should be embarrassed or not, but you felt uneasy at that moment, not sure where this all is leading.

,, If we do it now, there’s no going back doll, you’ll belong to me’’ he added again, as you sat in his lap confused. It was weird to hear him talk like that.

,, Touya, that can fuck up our friendship’’ you whispered. You were way too confused, not sure if he was talking about a relationship with you or just about you not sleeping with anyone else beside him.

,, And a quick fuck won’t do it?’’ he hissed, throwing the finished cigarette out of his window. He was right, both of it could fuck it up, and your idea was probably the worse option. The problem you had just few minutes ago was long gone, as new thoughts took over your mind. The fact that he was slowly placing soft kisses all over your neck didn’t help the situation, and the fact that you tiled your head to the side to give him more access to it didn’t help either.

You weren’t sure if you were simply too horny in the moment and if emotions took over you, but one part of you wanted to give it a try, yet another part of you was simply too scared of losing him. You did think about it before, how lucky can a girl be to call herself his girlfriend!? He’s not like other guys, at least not to you. He was always so caring, so gentle and so loving with you. He was the one who was always there for you, and in fact, you were more than sure that if you two start something, you won’t end up being hurt. But the fact that your friendship was under a question because of it was making you scared. Touya is the only person you never want to lose, and he knew that very well.

,, What do you say doll? Wanna try?’’ he asked, as he kissed your jaw softly. You weren’t sure how were you even capable of thinking at all in that moment.

,, Yes’’ you breathed out, closing your eyes shut as you enjoyed his soft kisses. Could you really lose him? If you had to worry about it so much, you should worry about the very exact moment. Why wouldn’t the current event ruin your friendship, now that you know that he doesn’t really see you as a friend as much as you thought. If you start some kind of a relationship with him, and if it doesn’t work, the two of you could talk it out.

The moment you said yes, Touya grabbed your yaw with his right hand, brushing his nose with your own before he connected his lips with yours. Once you placed your hands on his cheeks, trying to get closer to him, he couldn’t help but smile into the kiss.

What really drove him crazy was you rolling your hips on him. The fact that you had nothing else under your oversized shirt than your favorite panties almost made him cum in that very moment. Breaking the kiss, he leaned back into the seat, as you tried to catch your breath. Touya pulled your shirt up, exposing your naked chest. Not wasting any time, he placed his left on your right boob, pinching and twisting your already hard nipple, while sucking the other one.

Just the feeling of his hot breath made you throw your head back, enjoying the sucking and squeezing he was giving you. You placed your hands on his shoulders, finding support in it. Every roll you did with your hips, was met with his own one, making you feel his hard erection under his sweatpants. A quiet moan escaped your lips when you felt him bite on your nipple few times before he got back onto sucking it again.

Touya pulled your hips up a bit, giving you a sign to stay in that position as he pulled his sweatpants and boxers down, just enough for his dick to spring up. You knew that he had a dick piercing, in fact, you were in the waiting room when he decided to get it, but you still were shocked. It looked so good, so attractive.

You wanted to get out of his lap, you wanted to taste him, but his hands stopped you. Pushing you back onto his lap once again.

,, You have no idea how much I love you’’ he said, brushing his lips on your own, as he pushed your panties to the side and rubbed the tip of his dick around your hole.

,, I love you too, so much’’ you confessed, kissing him softly, as the pink head of his dick slowly entered you, hands on your hips slowly leading you down onto his length, until he was all in.

,, I know’’ Touya smirked into the kiss, enjoying the warmth of your walls hugging his dick. The hands on your hips slowly started to lead your hips up and down. The pace was so slow you could feel every inch of his dick rubbing against your velvety walls. Touya wasn’t one to enjoy the slow pace that much, but with you it was something else. He wanted to feel you as much as possible, and pushing his dick so slow into you gave him that possibility.

Just thinking about how it finally happened almost made him cream inside you. Closing his eyes, he let you move up and down his dick on your own. When you nuzzled your head into his neck he almost lost it, holding your hips down for few seconds just to calm his dick down. The small I love you that you whispered into his neck all over again didn’t help either, making it hard for him to control himself.

His hand found its way under your shirt, while his lips were all over your neck now, leaving sloppy marks all over it. You weren’t sure what did you enjoy more, his lips and hot breath over your neck, sucking and biting it, his hand squeezing your left breast or his dick deep inside you rubbing against your cervix.

Even tho you were moving your hips so slow, every time you were pushing your hips down, his would move upward, snapping against you with a little force and hitting your cervix perfectly. The both of you were breathing heavily, enjoying every second of the slow sex you had.

Wrapping his arms around you, he pulled your body closer to his, as he started moving just a little bit faster. You squeezed your eyes shut, as you realized that your climax was getting closer and closer with every move. Touya noticed your breathing getting faster, and your walls hugging his dick tighter then before, as he pulled your body up a bit, pushing you against the steering wheel and giving himself more access to move and fuck you a bit faster and stronger then before.

Moaning loudly, you wrapped your arms around him as you came all over his dick, almost shocked that you came without any clit stimulation. Dabi didn’t stop fucking you, helping you ride off the hard orgasm that just hit you.

Once he was sure you were done, he sat down. He lowered his seat, as he changed the position, locking you under him. Without giving you a chance to understand anything, he pushed his dick inside you.

,, I’m not done with you’’ he groaned, as he started moving his hips at much faster pace then before. Instead of saying anything, you wrapped your legs around him, placing your hands around his neck and just kissing him again. You couldn’t get enough of him, and luckily he felt the same. Accepting everything you had to offer, gladly.

The slow and steady pace was long forgotten, as he fucked you into the seat of his car with much more force and at one ungodly speed. You were pretty sure that the car was moving with every move he did, and you were sure if someone happened to be near, they would know what’s going on, but that was the last thing you cared of.

You were a moaning mess under him, and he was no better than you. You were surprised when you felt his hand around your throat, holding you in one place and playing with your breath. Open your mouth for me was all he said, before you felt thick saliva in your mouth. When it started, you thought it would be only some vanilla sex, the last thing you thought was that he would end up choking you and spitting in your mouth.

If it was someone else, you would probably freak out, but since it was him, you only obeyed, mouth open and tongue out, giving him approval for more.

,,That’s my good girl’’ he said, as he spat into your mouth one more time, while his grip around your neck only grew stronger. He was moving at rapidly speed, his skin slapping against your own was louder than the music that was playing in the background.

You closed your eyes as you started catching your breath once his hand moved away from your neck. Touya couldn’t control himself anymore, grabbing the edges of the seat, as he fucked into you. The pain mixed with pleasure was too intense for you, but you are his good girl, and you are doing so great for him, he made sure you understood that, as he repeated it all over again, while fucking into you.

The moment you felt his fingers rubbing your clit in circles, all you could do was squeeze your eyes shut, moaning loudly, as he told you to cum all over his dick, so you did as you were told and that was enough for him to reach his own high. Few harsh moves and he found himself cuming deep inside you. Even Toyua doesn’t know how did he find the energy to tell you how good you are milking his dick, but he did.

Collapsing on top of you, he fucked his seed inside of you, making sure not a single drop will get outside of your tight little out, making sure none of it will go to waste.

,, You’re mine’’ he said, placing soft kisses all over your face, and you were his. You were always his and he was always yours.

You weren’t sure how long would it take you to get over your stupid ex, but you were sure that Touya will be there for you and help you out in every way he can. Starting from the moment the two of you left your apartment, to the very moment the two of you cuddled inside of his car, after one steamy sex. All you could think of was your best friend and what would future bring you.

[borrovved]

warned you p.sh

pairing: tutor!sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: smut, but at most suggestive for now

wc: 3k

warnings: mature content, cursing, mentions of erection, mentions of casual sex, y/n saying she’s screwing someone’s dad but she doesn’t lmfao

synopsis: y/n needs to pass calculus, and sunghoon needs to get laid

part 1/???

You were going to your snobby and strict private school, just walking to the beat of Sunmi blasting in your headphones. The pigtails got in the way of the headphones but you made it work. You were aiming for the cutesy innocent look today, regardless of if your whole grade thought you were some harlot. You’d rather call yourself a femme fatale, but what you’re really trying to reclaim as a raging bratty feminist is a bimbo.

Bimbos definitely need to keep their head up high with confidence, but seeing the latest AP calculus quiz on your desk with its 37% marked in red severely irked you in that it made you feel dumb, and not the good kind, the very small and insignificant kind. Bimbos don’t like feeling like that. You twirled your pigtail in your hand and tried to keep a neutral expression, holding in the heavy sigh you so badly need to exhale out. That’s when you heard it.

“How did she manage to score that low?” someone snickered.

“All that time spent on her back and not at a desk really paid off.” another person snickered. You really wanted to say you’ve actually got railed by their dad on his desk and that you’re quite adaptable on where you do it, but you didn’t wake up and choose violence today...and plus the teacher would’ve sent you to the office. Giving them attention would just fuel the fire that you can’t put out when you’re up against slut shaming vermin when you’re only a team of one. The bell rang, signaling your next class and before you were able to stand up and go, you were asked to stay for a few minutes afterwards along with someone else. That someone else being Park Sunghoon. You and Sunghoon walked to the desk of your teacher and stood before her.

“Now Y/N, I know that you haven’t been doing well in class so I decided to pair you up with Sunghoon as your tutor. I feel as though you would have great improvement after a few study sessions, considering big chapters are coming up to wrap up the semester, and now is the best time more than ever to get some aid that I can’t provide.” You peek over to Sunghoon and he glances at you briefly before looking back at the teacher.

“Is this mandatory?” you ask.

“If you want to pass this class, I strongly recommend that you let him help you. An alternative explanation could help.” You really had no other choice but to nod your head yes and go along with it.

“Good. Now that both of you are informed, hurry along before you’re late to your next class.” After both of you scurry out of the room, you walk ahead to your next class and feel a tap on your shoulder.

“Hi, I’m Sunghoon, but you already knew that.” he says awkwardly while he hands you a post it note in neat handwriting. You eye it, then look up.

“You’re giving me your number?” you ask. He nods.

“Texting is the most efficient way to communicate with me since I have ice skating practice and student council related things to do.” he iterates. Before you even say a word, Sunghoon is already off to his next class, but you don’t miss the way he turns around to wave at you and yells “Text me!” in the hallway. You’ve gotten many stares before, from the way you carry yourself and from the way you purposely pull your uniform skirt higher because you think it would look best as a mini skirt, but this time, you heard whispers.

“Why is he talking to her?”

“Must be doing charity work.”

You smile. You can’t wait to tell your best friend Sunoo what just happened at lunch.

-

“The ice prince is doing what now?” Sunoo says with fruit gummies in his mouth.

“He’s helping me with calculus. And gave me his number.” you say while grabbing for a piece of candy to which Sunoo lets you grab a few.

“So…what’s the plan here?” Sunoo says with an eyebrow raised.

“I’ll text him right now and have some fun.”

“You whore! What do you mean have some fun?” Sunoo asked not subtly with his booming voice.

You roll your eyes. “You know the drill. I think he’s an easy target. I’ll be my cute charming self and see what happens.”

“You mean you’ll be a man eater and devour that poor innocent boy whole?” 

“You know me so well.” you say, grinning ear to ear. You whip out your phone and compose a text.

You: Hey Sunghoon, it’s Y/N, are you free after school today?

Unknown: Hey, and yes. Where would you like to study?

You: I’m more comfortable at my house where there’s less distractions. The library is too quiet for me and I like some white noise.

Sunoo peeks over your shoulder and says, “He responds fast.”

You smile, “Right?”

You start typing right away, but notice the three dots before you get to send anything.

Unknown: Sounds good, I’ll meet you after school :)

Sunoo gasps. “A smiley? A smiley!” You giggle at his reaction.

“It’s just an emoticon silly.” you say.

“It’s going to be water droplets and eggplants soon though.” Sunoo said in a sing song voice. You can’t help but laugh at your easily giddy best friend. You had big, big plans to get your prey, and you were going to have your fun in the process of passing calculus while you’re at it.

-

English literature wasn’t the most fun class in the world with talking about MacBeth and all, however, the fun part was daydreaming about Sunghoon. You have fancied the boy for the longest time casually but thought he was a little too vanilla for you. And you don’t like admitting it, a little too good for you with being a smart hardworking boy with his head on steady shoulders while yours just bobbled to whatever. Anyhow, you needed danger. A little spice, and everything delectably nice. He didn’t seem the type to be rough enough.

He was however tall, lean, and achingly adorable. Handsomely crafted, so soft spoken, and knew when to shut up unlike every boy you’ve slept with thus far. He’s a nice target. 

The bell rang, and you were quite surprised to see Sunghoon standing by your locker while you’re on your way there.

“Sunghoon!” you say cheerfully, making sure there was a bounce in your step, very glad you’re not wearing a bra today. For some reason the air conditioning wasn’t working today at school so you used this as an excuse to unbutton a few buttons earlier on your white crisp button up. You can see very clearly Sunghoon gulp and you can’t help but do your eye smile at this, and he does a soft grin in return.

“How did you figure out where my locker was?” you say as you tilt your head. Sunghoon couldn’t help but think the simple gesture of a head tilt was so charming. 

He shrugs. “I was going to text you but I knew you would be in class, so I looked at some documents to find out which locker it was. You know, student council perks.” 

“Ah.”

“Please don’t find it creepy.”

“I won’t, you dork.” You bend over to reach your locker since it was on the bottom row. Sunghoon stepped aside to let you open your locker, and his breath hitches in his throat. Seeing the back of your thighs in a skirt that was hiked up higher than it was supposed to was bewitching. He felt like he was in a trance and lingered his eyes on your legs for quite a while. Your skirt was just at the edge of the curvature of your ass, leaving some to the imagination but not much. You knew exactly what you were doing. You had many cheap tricks up your sleeve, and you were going to use them to your advantage. You could practically feel his gaze on you and you can’t help but smirk as you grab your calculus textbook along with your pencil bag, still bent over taking your time putting the items in your backpack. Sunghoon knows he has to stop staring or otherwise this won’t look good for him.

“Ready to go?” you say with a smile. It takes a moment for him to process what just happened and he’s all the while wondering how did your legs not hurt when you didn’t crouch to the ground all the way.

“Of course.”

-

The walk to your home was pleasant, you looked down at your shoes often and Sunghoon mapped out what sections you two were to go over in the textbook, including the homework that was assigned today. You asked him how his classes went and he responded after pausing to mull over his thoughts.

“It’s okay. Nothing exciting happened other than right now.” he says, looking at you while giving you his undivided attention. You can’t help but admire the beauty that is Sunghoon. His soft looking hair that frames his face nicely and the way he has his hands shoved into the pockets of his uniform slacks make him look so boyishly handsome and breathtaking.

It takes a moment for you to respond. “What about right now is so exciting?”

He gently smiles and looks away from you. “I don’t tutor people often. Every once in a while I get asked to help students about a few things but never really spend enough time with them to consider it tutoring. And the change of pace on how I manage my time is much needed. I don’t interact with different people often, so this is...nice.”

Your heart races as the clouds take over the blue sky slowly. You notice just how pretty the cute moles on his face are as your gaze lingers on them for a bit. He does that stupid charming smile that makes you giddy and you blush, picking up the pace. You start turning while walking backwards just to give him your undivided attention.

“We should walk faster, Sunghoon. It might start drizzling.”

-

Both of you entered your home and took your shoes off at the front door. Sunghoon took a quick glance at your home, to which he said “this is a cozy house.” You tell him your bedroom is the coziest spot in the house, and let him trail behind you as you go up the stairs, and he doesn’t miss the way your pretty and dainty hand smooths over the railing as you walk up. Entering your room, he noticed the pink canopy bed right away, and the pink heart shaped pillow on it. There were so many details in just one spot, with the floral comforter and lights attached to the tulle. It was pretty and graceful. Light and airy. Soft.

“You can sit on the bed. Let me get changed out of this uniform, it’s so hot in this blazer.” you say as you start to strip in front of your closet, looking away from Sunghoon. Now, Sunghoon doesn’t see himself as a pervert, so therefore, when he noticed you unbuttoning your white button up and could only see the smoothness of your back and notice there was no bra in sight, his cheeks flushed. He quickly turned the other cheek and looked anywhere else but you. Unfortunately, perhaps fortunately, you had a full length mirror with fake pink roses running along its sides across your room. Sunghoon tried really, really hard to look at the curve of the pink petals and not at the curve of your breasts when you turned to the side slightly, but he failed so horribly. He could see himself and his cheeks were beet red. The bulge in his pants was so noticeable too. He quickly placed his backpack on his lap and winced at how heavy it was against him. Why did that kinda feel good?

You turn around wearing your school uniform skirt still but this time with a bright red crop top and of course, no bra. Sunghoon is dying and he can’t help but stare at how prominent your nipples are through the thin material. You take the pigtails down and he loves the way your hair cascades down your shoulders once it’s out of its confines of a scrunchie. He blinks once, twice, many times. Maybe if he sees only the back of his eyelids long enough he will stop picturing you naked. It doesn’t work, and you just stand with your hands on your hips and a lilt to your voice.

“Are you thirsty?” you say sweetly, knowing your tricks are working.

“Uh, y-yeah. Do you have water? Can I have water please?” Sunghoon is so precious.

“Of course you can.”

-

You really are a chintzy whore at best. Your excuse for not sitting at the desk of your room to study was that there was only one comfy study chair, and that you didn’t feel like bringing the dining room chair upstairs. That’s understandable, right? You could’ve however used the chair at your vanity, but that’s just a padded stool with no back to it. Wouldn’t want you or Sunghoon to forget and lean back too far and fall to your doom. So you told Sunghoon that you would rather study in your bed.

You played a little playlist in the background, something mellow and soft and not too distracting. Every once in a while Sunghoon will ask what song it is, and you respond with a chipper in your voice.

“Oh, this one is Sex and Sadness by Madi Sipes and the Painted Blue!”

“That’s one hell of a title.” he chuckles.

“It sure is. The lyrics are so...pretty? I can’t put it into words. The part where it talks about ‘stained glass loved lace’ gets me every time. And ‘whispering words into the singer’s skin.’ It’s romantic.” Sunghoon notices how there’s a certain dazzling feature in your eyes as you talk about the song. He wants to stare in your eyes, but alas you have to finish this one problem. Sunghoon prioritizes responsibilities over such silly, frivolous things that only he notices.

“So tell me how you’re going to solve this problem.” Sunghoon says swiftly while grabbing the glass of water on your nightstand.

You stare at the problem and try your best to concentrate. You really do. But you can’t help the way Sunghoon’s hand looks lazily placed on his thigh. Without much thought, you trace a finger on the back of his hand and say, “Your hands are so veiny.”

“Y/N.”

“And big.”

Well that’s a first, Sunghoon thinks. He knows he’a good looking, a bunch of girls swoon over him at school and at the rink all the time. The most common compliment he gets is on his eyes, and maybe hair, but not on his hands of all things. You’re fascinated by them, and you won’t stop tracing along the veins. Your touch sets his skin ablaze, and it doesn’t seem like you’re finishing this problem any time soon.

“Let’s take a break. I think you’re getting distracted because your brain is all fried.” Sunghoon says softly, still letting you continue playing with his hand.

“I’m getting distracted because I have a pretty boy in my bed.” you giggle. You finally look up and see how pink his cheeks are from blushing.

He starts to stammer “You’re the one that wants to study in your bed!” His voice is a little pitched and you can’t contain your laughs. 

“Do you want to move to the desk then?” you ask.

He shakes his head and mumbles a “no.” A few moments pass and you almost didn’t hear what he says next because it’s under his breath.

“I’ve never been called pretty before.”

“Gasp.” you say, lightheartedly.

“No but like, I’ve been called handsome, smart, a little weird, but not pretty.” Sunghoon replies. A moment of silence passed, and you started to ponder.

“There’s a song called Pretty Boy in my playlist somewhere.”

You go over to your laptop and click on The Neighbourhood song. You sway your hips gently and get lost into the music. Sunghoon just gazes at you as you move along to the steady pulse of the music and let the melodies feel you instead of the other way around. You do a little twirl and waltze your way to your bed, grabbing his hand.

“Dance with me.”

He obliged, wordlessly.

He takes in the words of the lyrics and closes his eyes. If he can’t see how close he is to you right now, it feels less real. It feels less scary. Not that you’re scary, Sunghoon doesn’t think girls with pink heart shaped pillows are scary. What’s scary is you laughing at his boner because he hasn’t been this close to a girl before since a random winter formal he had in grade school. The girl wasn’t all that nice since she dipped to dance with his friend. You’re much softer and nice. More delicate. You even smell nicer. God, your little hands enclosed together behind his neck and his big hands on your waist feels too good to be true. He can feel your gaze on him.

“Sunghoon, open your eyes.” He does, and his breath hitches and you look down, because you definitely feel something poking you and it wasn’t there before.

“I have to go, I have a curfew and it’s getting late, I’ll walk myself out.”

“Sunghoon I can at least walk you down-“

“No, seriously. I can go by myself. Thank you though.”

He’s so wide eyed and his cheeks are so rosy and he dashes away like his life depends on it. And you didn’t even get to kiss him.