#is it mildly annoying to me? sure. but so are lots of things and it's better to just let stuff go

[melia-an2fa]

Christ on a cracker, no one seems to be able to act normal about this SaveAFox shit. I remember even back a couple years ago, I'd heard some criticisms of how she handled things, simply agreed "Yeah that sounds a bit concerning, I won't be watching her stuff," and then moved on, maybe on occasion gave friends a heads up if they posted her stuff, but otherwise, just... moving on.

I remember getting agitated when what started as very mild criticisms started to evolve into post after post into dedicated tag for her into Google Doc Callout Post™ and just feeling deeply annoyed by this being a constant cycle, and unfollowed some folks because of it. People who remember my old blog probably remember my post talking about people on Animalblr (? is that the word) I found annoying, this was part of why.

And in a way, it's a bit... cathartic? That may not be the right word for it. The irony of it all, is that the people who were most vocal about this, I could say the same thing for them that I would've said about Mikayla, which is that they were well-intended (caring about animal welfare and having real concerns) but still irresponsible (documenting literally every thing the woman did in dedicated tags; this was bound to attract bad faith actors and concern trolls!)

I honestly hadn't thought about Mikayla for a long time until this happened today, because, again, my response was simply "Well I won't watch those videos" then moving on. I didn't keep a dedicated tag to documenting everything she did. Hearing the news was honestly devastating, because I don't care what a person did, they don't deserve to die. I never even thought of Mikayla as a bad person, just well-intended but irresponsible, even if she were a "bad person" I wouldn't think she deserved to die.

So, fuck you if you sincerely consider this a "win," if you have no regrets about anything you did. I personally now have regrets trusting the word of some of these individuals, seeing as it has now escalated to this point. And sure, Ethan said it was because of people she knew and other sanctuaries, but let's not pretend rumors don't spread. I remember when I saw the doc in particular, I was disgusted that her having an OnlyFans even came up, it just ruined the credibility of the entire doc, no matter what legitimate concerns you may have had about Mikayla's animal welfare, because her having an OF... has nothing to do with her welfare! But that being information other sanctuaries could've found out about could've still ruined her credibility with them regardless, since, y'know, people fucking hate women who have a sexuality?

I will also say, I do think some of her defenders are going way too far, and I do not approve of this. I think it's kinda ridiculous to accuse every single person who's ever mildly criticized her, especially if it was years ago, and/or came from a person who's been inactive on Tumblr for half a year, of being "murderers." I've seen people hurling slurs (mostly the R-slur), being transphobic (because Owlvid in particular is trans), making threats about doxxing people and/or raping them and their family members... what the hell is wrong with you? There is no childish "But they did it first-" here, you are engaging in the exact kind of behavior that lead to Mikayla's death, and that's disgusting, what we're learning from this shouldn't be "Let's keep up this cycle of vengeance!" or "Let's document everything someone we don't like does!" No, do not entertain the idea of the "callout post." That's how we get here in the first place. Block. Move on. Curate. That's what the people who didn't like her content should've done, too.

May Mikayla rest in peace, my heart goes out to her family, I hope Ethan can get the funds that he needs in order to take care of his daughter, and I hope the animals can, at least, be rehomed to other sanctuaries, should Ethan not receive proper funding.

There's been a lot of recent events making me rethink how quickly I and others jump the gun when it comes to animal welfare concerns, and this is one of them.

[panharmonium]

Hi! I love your Naruto thoughts and meta posts with all my heart and I want to ask your thoughts on something that has been on my mind literally since I was 13: what do you think about the relationship between Sasuke and Sakura? I went from being a hardcore shipper when I was a teenager, to being against any romantic relationship in Naruto after finishing the anime when I was in my early twenties. Nowadays I'm very into platonic love and depictions of friendship and I think the anime's obsession with forcing the "romantic interest" curse upon the main female character robbed us of... so much. There are a few wonderful moments in the anime where Sasuke and Sakura acknowledge each other, but because she's always "the girl with the crush", her actions are so often interpret as irrational or selfish by the fandom.

Hi @riemmetric!  It's great to talk to you again! Sorry it's taken me so long to answer this; RL has been making demands of me lately and it took me way longer to finish writing this up than I wanted it to (then again, I knew from the minute I read your original ask that my reply was going to get long, so I suppose I should have predicted a delay XD)

It's funny, my sister once asked me to choose between Sasuke or Sakura for an “unpopular opinion” meme, and I ended up doing Sasuke solely because I think the negative fandom opinions about Sakura are so unhinged and divorced from the actual text that I wouldn’t even know where to start.  People are entitled to dislike whatever characters they want, obviously, but there are some fandom takes that are, for me, so obviously rooted in bad faith viewings/readings that there’s no urge in me to discuss them.  That said, since you asked, I’m happy to go into my own thoughts on this a bit, with the disclaimer for other potential readers that I only write about fandom things for my own personal enjoyment, not as a contribution to The Discourse. If you don’t like Sakura, great!  I have no interest in changing your mind. Please consider this a sincere invitation to scroll on by and go enjoy whatever parts of the fandom appeal to you.

In general terms: I love Sasuke and Sakura’s relationship as much as I love all of the relationships in Team 7.  If we’re talking about them specifically as a romantic couple, then I probably fall somewhere in the middle of the spectrum, because I do like them together in a post-canon (to be clear: non-Boruto) setting, after time has passed and they’ve continued to develop individually and reconnect with each other, but I also wouldn’t exactly call myself an intense “shipper,” in the sense that I have no interest in pulling things out from the text and incorrectly citing them as evidence that Sasuke has hidden romantic feelings for her during the canon period. He cares about her in the canon period, just like he cares about Naruto and Kakashi.  That’s not up for interpretation; it’s the text.  But Sasuke during the canon time period does not demonstrate specifically romantic interest in anyone.  

[A note before people who might ship Sasuke with Someone Else emerge to rail against this statement - please just scroll past and continue enjoying fandom in whatever way is most fun for you. It is cool to ship whatever fanon thing you want; I think that’s great!  But earnestly citing any loving or emotional thing Sasuke does re: various characters in this story (yes, Sakura included) as indicative of specifically romantic love isn’t supported by the text. I know there are always going to be enormous subsets of any fandom who insist that it is, and I'm certainly not going to barge into anyone else's space to complain about that (because other people having fun together is harmless and none of my business), but I'm not obligated to indulge it on my own blog, either.]

Anyway, that said - the reason why I love Sakura and Sasuke’s relationship (from here on out I’ll use “relationship” in a general, non-romantic sense) is precisely because Sakura isn’t just “the girl with the crush.” Sakura has an arc when it comes to Sasuke, and its trajectory moves in the exact opposite direction of “irrational” or “selfish.”  She specifically goes from “the girl with the crush” to “the girl who steels herself and tries to put her personal feelings for Sasuke aside for the greater good” to “the girl who knows she can’t put her feelings aside, but who also knows full well that Sasuke doesn’t reciprocate them, and who still wants to save him regardless, because he matters to her as a person and a friend.”

[I'm putting the rest of this under a cut to save everyone's dash, and also to emphasize once again that this is a personal post on my personal blog which I wrote in response to a question from a personal acquaintance, the full content of which no one is obligated to read. I am not sending this post to random strangers and forcing them to look at it. I'm not even putting it in the character tags. I'm typing it up on my own blog and putting it under a cut. If you already know that you don't like Sakura, but you still click the link/read the post and then feel an urge to comment and complain, I am going to copy-paste this disclaimer and remind you that I specifically recommended that you scroll past and go have fun with fandom in your own way. Thanks in advance for responsibly curating your own fandom experience!]

So, from the top:

1. the girl with the crush

Sakura is, obviously, completely obsessed with Sasuke at the beginning of Part 1.  She’s also deeply clueless about him and his history (bizarre though it is, the story seems to indicate that she initially doesn’t know what happened with his family, the same way young!Obito is initially clueless about Kakashi’s father).  But what I like about Sakura and Sasuke’s Part 1 relationship is how this changes over time.

The critical scene that kicks this off happens right at the beginning of the manga, when she and Sasuke are talking by that bench - she complains about Naruto and blames his behavior on him being all alone/having no family to scold him; and even says she’s jealous that he doesn’t have parents to nag him all the time.  This obviously triggers an outburst from Sasuke, who tells her she has no idea what loneliness means and that she “makes him sick”/she’s “annoying” (importantly, the exact same thing Sakura said to Naruto in anger earlier that day), which in turn prompts Sakura to reassess herself and wonder whether she’s been making Naruto feel this terrible all the time, too:

From that point on, it’s a process of her putting little pieces together.  She still has a MAJOR crush, and she still acts like a twelve year-old, but as we approach the end of Part I, Sakura actually has a more accurate grasp on Sasuke’s current state of mind than Naruto does.  Naruto is initially excited to fight Sasuke on top of the hospital, because he feels like Sasuke’s finally acknowledging him, whereas Sakura is the one who immediately recognizes that something is wrong about this situation.  She is also the one who, after this fight, is concerned that Sasuke is really unwell and might do something drastic like run off in pursuit of the power Orochimaru promised him, but when she communicates this to Naruto, he assures her that this would NEVER happen:

(Sakura isn't convinced, though, because she goes to monitor the exit out of the village anyway.)

I’m not criticizing Naruto for his response here.  I ADORE hearing him say that Sasuke is too strong to need Orochimaru, with such perfect confidence - I love seeing how much respect and admiration he has for Sasuke underneath all their fighting, because that’s the whole reason he’s always baiting Sasuke and yelling at him and claiming “you're not so great!” He looks up to Sasuke; he wants to be like Sasuke; he thinks Sasuke is awesome! (It’s that Obito @ Kakashi behavior, you know?) But the fact remains that he is clueless about what’s actually going on with Sasuke in Part 1, and he remains clueless(ly optimistic) for a long time.  

(Eg, when he catches up to Sasuke during the retrieval arc and Sasuke climbs out of that cursed seal coffin, Naruto waves at him and calls "Come on, let's go!" as if Sasuke has been successfully rescued and is now going to come running home.  Even in Part II, when Naruto hears that Sasuke killed Orochimaru, he beams and immediately says, “So he must be on his way back to the Leaf Village!”  And everyone else in the room is like, “....,” because they know better.  Naruto doesn’t yet fully understand [or doesn't want to accept] the extent to which Sasuke has willingly chosen this path, and it’s not until after Jiraiya’s death/the Pain attack/the Five Kage Summit that Naruto really starts to understand Sasuke more clearly, which is something he himself admits.)

Sakura, in Part 1, has access to more information about Sasuke - she’s there for his first dissociative monologue during the bells test, she’s there for the curse mark’s placement, she’s there for his first violent transformation in the Forest of Death - she is, in fact, the unwitting catalyst for it (“Sakura…who did this to you?”), and her compassion is the reason Sasuke is later able to overcome the curse mark’s influence - so she has a more accurate/complete picture of “how he’s doing,” for lack of a better phrase, whereas Naruto, who doesn’t know about the curse mark in the first place, is still in the dark.  This means that Sakura is able to accurately discern that Sasuke is struggling more than Naruto realizes, and specifically to predict that he’s going to run away.  

(This dynamic is then interestingly flipped in the back half of Part II, since at any point after the Five Kage Summit, Sakura doesn’t have access to extremely relevant [if currently questionable and unproven] details that would in any other circumstance inform her behavior).

Of course, just because she has more info in Part 1 doesn’t mean she has some kind of miraculous insight into Sasuke’s every thought and feeling.  There are parts of her attempt to convince Sasuke to stay in the village that are as clueless as any of Naruto’s assumptions, and they showcase the kind of magical thinking common to childhood - like when she says that if he stayed with her, she could give him happiness, she’d do anything for him, even help him get his revenge - this idea that she herself can do something to make him feel better, that she can love him powerfully enough to defeat his pain - obviously none of that is rooted in realism.

Is this part of her approach irrational and immature and inadvertently self-centered?  Of course it is!  But it’s no more irrational and immature and inadvertently self-centered than Naruto’s stated plan to drag Sasuke back to the village even if he has to “break every bone in [his] body!” 

Hating on Sakura for her Part 1 attempt to convince Sasuke to stay in the village while simultaneously lauding Naruto for his feels like a bad faith misread of what is, to me, pretty clear narrative intention.  The story doesn’t at any point intend for us to see her begging him to stay as a selfish or conniving attempt to get something she wants.  She’s begging him to stay for the same underlying reason that Naruto is: she cares about him.  She thinks he’s making a mistake that will only cause him more pain in the end (she’s right) and she wants to make it so he feels less pain right now (she can’t.  But she doesn’t understand that/isn’t able to admit that, and she’s willing to try ANYTHING that might help).  

It’s critical that this farewell scene is set in front of that same bench from their first important confrontation - she references that day and how angry he got at her, and this time she tells him that she understands his reaction.  She’s learned things and she recognizes how insensitive she was being back then (“I know what happened to your clan, Sasuke”), even though she still can’t fully grasp all the complexities of the situation. She tells him that him blowing up at her back then helped her understand what loneliness actually meant (as opposed to her previous shallow understanding of it), and she challenges him about his choice right now: "So that's it, you're choosing the lonely path?" And when she tells him that she'll be very lonely if he leaves, we're immediately shown a panel of Sasuke thinking of both his friends, with the very clear implication that if he goes through with this, he will be lonely without them, too - that he's still struggling with the idea of leaving them, no matter how hard he tries to pretend:

Sakura at this point knows that Sasuke isn’t interested in her the way she is in him, but she still wants to give him happiness, however fantastical and immature her ideas sound to us (and, I’m sure, to him).  “I’ll do anything, even help you get your revenge/we'll have fun every day, and...and you'll be happy! I'll make sure of it!” - of course, it’s completely childish.  It’s irrational.  It’s ridiculous to think that any of this would ever be effective, but no more ridiculous than Naruto’s belief that he can simply break every bone in Sasuke’s body and keep him in the Leaf by force.

Both Naruto and Sakura are children who have a deeply oversimplified understanding of Sasuke’s situation.  They both still think they can fix him themselves.  They both think they can save him themselves.  They both think they can convince (or force) him to do what they want, what they think is in his best interests.  Both of them don’t yet understand that he has to want to come back, if it’s ever going to mean anything.  Their attempts to keep him in the village are immature and unrealistic, yes.  What they aren’t, however, is selfish, because neither Sakura nor Naruto are doing any of this with the intention of advancing their own interests.  They’re only thinking about Sasuke - how to keep Sasuke safe, how to make Sasuke happy - even when neither of them are taking an approach that will actually work.

Naruto and Sakura are children.  They’re afraid of losing somebody they care about.  Their attempts to prevent that from happening are desperate and messy and ultimately ineffective, but they are also genuinely felt and rooted in a true desire to rescue Sasuke from his pain, which - and this is the single most important thing that should impact our viewing of Part 1 - is something that Sasuke RECOGNIZES.  He doesn’t spend that agonizingly long moment bowed over Naruto’s defeated body so we can pretend he doesn’t understand that Naruto was just trying to help him.  He doesn’t take the time to murmur, “Sakura…thank you,” before laying her out carefully on a bench, just so we can discount it and pretend that he doesn’t recognize and appreciate her genuine intention to make things better for him, however clumsy that attempt might have been.

2. the greater good

If Stage 1 Sakura is "the girl with the crush," then Stage 2 Sakura is a progression to “the girl who decides to put her feelings for Sasuke aside in order to protect innocent people, including (but certainly not limited to) Naruto.”  She’s driven to this decision by interactions with Shikamaru, who all too recently had to grow up fast himself (“We're not kids anymore...we can't allow a war to break out between the Hidden Leaf and the Hidden Cloud because of Sasuke") and Sai, who risks his new friendship with Sakura and Team 7 in order to speak some hard truths and deliver one of my favorite lines in the whole story: “I don’t know what promise Naruto made to you, but it’s really no different than what was done to me.  It’s like a curse mark.”

(INCREDIBLE.  How can anybody be complaining about a season where Sai gets to say something that goes THIS HARD and Sakura LISTENS and takes DRAMATIC ACTION that actually propels the story forward in a meaningful way - )

[Okay, yeah, brief personal opinion interlude - it is just bonkers wild to me that there are people who complain about Sakura in the Five Kage Summit arc. That entire season is the greatest character arc she ever has.  Literally she has never been more interesting and dynamic than in Season 10; it’s the first time she ever gets to be as deep and fascinating as the boys; what is everybody so worked up about?  Oh, “she lied to Naruto that one time” - Sasuke joined infant-kidnapping baby-murdering human experimentation machine Orochimaru when he was twelve years old in order to (dare I say it????) selfishly pursue his personal goals and yet, somehow, we are still able to root for him.  He abandoned his friends/allies to imprisonment and death (Suigetsu and Jūgo) or outright stabbed them in the chest himself (Karin) in order to (SELFISHLY) get what he wanted, and yet, somehow, we are still able to love him, understand him, and be on his side.  Naruto is canonically not upset with Sakura about her lie after receiving context for the situation and I think we can probably take our cues from him without feeling the need to bring her up on war crimes; please calm down]

[Sorry, I just really love most of Season 10 and think it’s one of the best examples of how good this story can be when every single character gets to do something that matters (as opposed to things being all Naruto, all the time) so I get a little bit worked up over people complaining about some of the best writing Sakura ever gets.  I don’t understand what certain elements of fandom want from her. People complain about her being “useless” and not doing anything that contributes to the story, but then they complain just as much when she does finally get to act decisively and have just as complex/dynamic an inner world as the boys.  She’s “weak” for being unreasonably in love with Sasuke, but when she tries to be “strong” and put her love for him aside and eliminate him in order to protect Naruto and the rest of the world, she’s evil, because she should have been more understanding of his situation (despite the fact that she doesn’t KNOW anything about his situation).  But then when she can’t go through with killing him after all because she cares about him too much despite the things he’s done, she’s not "compassionate" or "kind" or "a good friend," she’s “weak” again. Nothing Sakura does in S10 is more wrongheaded or rash than any of the batshit, buckwild things Naruto and Sasuke have done in the past (and will continue to do in the future), but when Naruto and Sasuke have big feelings or take bold action, it makes them interesting characters, whereas Sakura can’t breathe in anyone’s direction without being minutely scrutinized for moral impurities.]  

Anyway. Back to a more measured response.  

Every single piece of development Sakura has with regard to Sasuke in this season satisfies me so much.  Her initial shock and disbelief at hearing that Sasuke had joined the Akatsuki?  Good, appropriate.  The fact that she starts to acknowledge the reality of what Sasuke’s done sooner than Naruto does?  Also extremely appropriate, very in-character for both of them.  Her taking Sai’s words to heart and deciding that the promise she asked Naruto to make when they were children is causing him to suffer and she has to relieve him of that burden?  Juicy!  AND thematically significant (promises!!!!  the burden that a promise places on a person, especially when it can't be kept - we've seen that before in this story and we'll see it again).  Her anguished pivot from wanting to protect Sasuke to realizing that she has a responsibility to protect the countless innocents who will die because of the war he’s trying to start?  HELLO THIS IS INCREDIBLE CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT.  Her knocking out the classmates who agreed to help her so they don’t have to share in her burden (and so the only person Naruto will hate when it’s over is her)?  BRUH.  Her being so committed and focused on her goal of saving innocents and protecting Naruto (not just from being harmed by Sasuke/the Akatsuki, but by the possibility that Naruto will someday have to hurt Sasuke himself) that she tries to take everything on by herself and walks into a confrontation that she absolutely cannot win??  INCREDIBLE.  (Literally the first time I watched this, I said, “Finally!!!  It’s Sakura’s turn to go off the rails!”  I laughed with my sister about how Kakashi isn’t even mad, because Naruto and Sasuke have been pulling stunts like this for years and Sakura was way overdue for her own meltdown.)  And then, after Kakashi intervenes in the fight - Sakura barreling back into the battle when she realizes he’s going to take on the burden of killing Sasuke himself in order to spare her and Naruto the horror - “I can’t let Kakashi-sensei bear this burden!”  I love her for that.  

And then, of course, in the end - her not being able to do hurt Sasuke after all.  Despite committing herself to the act, despite forcing herself to put her feelings for him aside, despite resolving to stop him from starting a war and killing innocent people, she can’t harm him.  She cares about him too much.  This, too, is thematically significant - think about Itachi’s “you don’t have enough hatred” - she doesn’t have enough hatred to kill someone she cares about, even if it seems like he deserves it, even if would be the right thing to do to protect others.  She can’t do it, and Sasuke almost kills her for her compassion.  

I love the dynamic this sets up between her and Sasuke, for a few reasons:

1) Personally, I think Sasuke respects Sakura much more for trying to kill him than he would have if she’d just tried to talk him out of his behavior or beg him to come home (a la their original confrontation in Part 1).  This is the first significant interaction he’s had with Sakura in years, and the fact that she does something SO contrary to his memory of her is an important demonstration of the fact that she’s not the same girl she used to be.  Sasuke spends a lot of time after his defection declaring to his old team “I’ve changed; I’m not that person anymore,” but this is one of the moments where he’s forced to acknowledge that his teammates have changed, too.  Time didn’t just stop for them when he left.  While he was turning into someone new, so were they.  They grew up without him, and his old memories of them can’t encompass the whole picture of who they are now.  

(This is a little tangential, but in general, I love the spectrum of reactions that Naruto, Sakura, and Kakashi have in this sequence, and the way that all of them are ultimately messages Sasuke needs to hear.  Sasuke - who we know textually regrets what he did here, who apologizes to Sakura for it later - for “everything,” in fact - needs Naruto’s aggressively optimistic open-arms policy, yes, needs that potential, that unconditional possibility of return.  He also needs Sakura’s refusal to let him hurt her friends and start a war that will kill thousands of people, needs her surprisingly ruthless attempt to take him down; needs just as much her failure to do so, because it shows him that she still loves him too much to kill him even as she condemns him.  And he needs Kakashi’s grim line in the sand, needs someone who very possibly won't hesitate like Sakura (despite the horrifying personal cost), someone who will try to reach him but also won't let him escape and become the next generation’s Orochimaru, who won't let him cause untold suffering to untold numbers of people just because a teacher loved him too much to stop him when he had the chance. 

(And then even Kakashi chooses not to deliver a killing blow when he has the opportunity -)

(I know that in fandom people are more likely to be all, “oh, Naruto Good, everybody else Bad,” but I don’t think the narrative frames Sakura or Kakashi as “worse” than Naruto in any way.  The story goes out of its way to make it clear how desperately they don’t want to hurt Sasuke and how much they care about him.  And [this is just my interpretation, so obviously I won’t claim it as fact], I personally think that Sasuke - Sasuke, who, looking back, can see how lost he was then and how tortured he would have been if he’d gone through with many of his plans - would be grateful to Sakura and Kakashi for making an attempt to stop him when he couldn’t stop himself.)

2) On the other side of this, the fact that Sakura wasn’t able to deliver the killing blow means a lot. Sasuke was incapacitated under that bridge; he was completely at her mercy - but she stopped with the kunai an inch from his back.  She couldn’t kill him, even though she knew that he was completely willing to kill her (because he'd attempted to Chidori-assassinate her from behind just a few minutes ago).  That’s huge!  Sasuke is too out of his head right now to process this or understand it, but later, it's going to matter.  She stayed her hand.  She spared his life.  She loved him too much to hurt him, even when he’d given her every reason to take him down.  She hesitated, and he almost killed her for it, but her inability to strike him ultimately gave him yet another chance to come home, another chance to get better, another chance to have a life outside of his pain.  Despite everything, some part of her still hadn’t really given up on him, and that knowledge will matter later, when he’s finally able to acknowledge it.  

The point of all this is to say that I really have no complaints about Sakura and Sasuke’s dynamic in their S10 confrontation.  This season is the point where Sakura fully grows past her “girl with a crush” stage and into her “shinobi must make very harsh decisions” adulthood, but it never means that she doesn’t care about the person she’s trying to take down.  Her ultimate inability to deliver the killing blow remains a dangling lifeline for her relationship with Sasuke, an open door that Sasuke is able to walk through at the end of the story (literally, in fact, when Sakura opens that portal for him and saves him from Kaguya’s desert prison, and figuratively, too, when Sasuke apologizes to her).

3. she only wants to save you

The last stage in their relationship is what Sakura settles into during the war arc.  She started off Part 1 being just a girl with a crush, then tried to harden her heart and put her feelings for Sasuke aside in service of the greater good, but she was unable to actually follow through and kill him, and because of that, what she’s come to accept by the war arc is actually two things: that 1) Sasuke truly is willing to let her die if it furthers his goals, and 2) she wants to save him anyway.  

She has no intention of pursuing Sasuke romantically.  She knows full well that Sasuke isn’t interested in her.  She even knows that Sasuke isn’t really on their side (there’s a great scene where Sai questions Sakura about Sasuke’s return, and she reassures him that everything is fine, and Sai sadly thinks to himself “even I can tell your smile is fake”).  She’s well-aware that Sasuke didn’t try to help her when Madara stabbed her.  She’s well-aware that he left her to die in the lava pit.  She’s also well-aware that none of this is enough to make her stop loving him.  He doesn’t have to care about her - she still cares about him.  She still wants to help him.  She still wants to save him.

This is not hidden, hard-to-parse character development.  It’s explicitly articulated on the page:

Sakura’s not trying or wanting to make you hers!  She only wants to save you.

I’m not sure if people look at this last confrontation and unquestioningly take Sasuke at his word (as if we haven’t just read 71 volumes/watched 700 episodes showing us how how painfully distorted his thinking is), or if they stop reading/watching before the end of the scene, or if they don’t understand that Sasuke saying something doesn’t make that statement an accurate representation of reality.  The entire point of this scene is to show us how deeply mistaken Sasuke is about Sakura (and, by extension, the rest of Team 7).  He’s locked into a false pattern of thinking.  His single-minded focus on revenge and destruction has blinded him to the unconditional love his friends feel for him; he’s become so accustomed to using others and being used that he can’t understand or accept that someone would care about him without needing a reason, without needing him to love them back, without needing to receive something from him in exchange.

Sakura’s not trying or wanting to make you hers!  She only wants to save you.

Sasuke matters to Sakura as more than a love interest.  He always has.  She does love him romantically, yes, but she doesn’t only love him romantically, and her desire to help him is not and has never been contingent on him returning her feelings, romantically or otherwise.  Sasuke isn’t able to acknowledge that in this scene, but that doesn’t mean we’re supposed to just sit back and agree with his warped perspective.  Kakashi is the one who’s explicitly positioned as the voice of the narrative here.  We, as the audience, are supposed to recognize that Kakashi is the one telling us the truth.

[tangential thing 1: You don’t have to love Sakura's last plea to Sasuke here. It’s not my favorite, either - the best part, other than Kakashi’s speech at the end, is the moment after Kakashi collapses when Sakura’s expression changes from pained uncertainty to pure rage, when she grits her teeth together - when I first saw that, I almost leapt out of my seat like “Oh my god.  She’s finally going to let him have it.  It’s finally happening - ”  I wanted that so badly, and I still think it would have been a more effective writing choice for Sakura’s last words to lean more into her anger at the suffering Sasuke is causing all of them (himself included!) and less into yet another of Kishimoto’s “let me have Sakura articulate what a shame it is that she can’t do as much as Naruto despite the fact that I literally just went through a major reveal sequence in the war to show that she’s caught up to the boys; I can’t make up my mind about whether I want her to progress or not” - it’s extremely frustrating (and it's something he does at the very end of the S10 Team 7 reunion, too, which is the ONLY moment of S10 that falls flat for me).  But at the same time, even if there are ways this sequence could be more satisfying, it doesn’t change the fact that her plea to him is not remotely motivated by a desire to be with him romantically and not anything to condemn her for.]

[tangential thing 2: I do like how she remembers that moment when Sasuke says “Thank you.”  That panel precedes her saying “If there’s even a tiny corner of your heart that thinks about me…” (which I’m sure is one of the things that people like to criticize about this scene, aka “oh she’s sooooo self-centered” etc), but that particular line of dialogue is preceded by that particular flashback panel for a reason: Sakura knows that Sasuke DOES think about her.  He thinks about all of them.  Sakura remembers that “thank you,” and it reminds her that despite everything Sasuke has done and said since, despite all evidence to the contrary, she knows in her bones that his expression of gratitude back then was genuine.  He cared about her once.  He cared about all of them.  She’s trying to reach the part of him that still does, if it exists.]

[tangential thing 3: The fact that Kakashi says “she suffers from loving you,” and it triggers Sasuke to remember his own family - thinking about how much he suffered (and still suffers) from loving them - “Perhaps…those are the ties to a failed past” - the idea that it’s not worth it to have bonds if it means you suffer this much…that it’s too difficult, it’s too painful, and if Sakura and the rest of Team 7 were smarter they would just give it up (all Sasuke knows how to do now is sever potential bonds before they can hurt him; so why aren’t Sakura and the rest of his teammates doing that, why can’t they let it go, why are they making this so hard - ) << yeah, he clearly doesn't care about her/them at all.]

4. the shadow of my family

This has all been a really long way to answer the original question, but the short response to “What do you think about the relationship between Sasuke and Sakura?” is “I really care about it,” just like I really care about the relationship between Sasuke and Naruto, just like I really care about the relationship between Sasuke and Kakashi. And I don’t think the story ever asks me to choose between them.

I’m not sure whether it’s the impact of Boruto-era “canon” that gets in the way of other people approaching things this way (I don’t consider sequel material when I evaluate the original story), or if it’s Kishimoto’s frequent disinterest in/disrespect towards female characters, which yes, does sometimes make it harder, or if it's a shipping thing (bane of my existence), or some combination of factors, but for me, taking one member of Team 7 out of the equation hobbles the rest of the story.  I can’t read/watch Naruto while hating one of the protagonists and loving the other three.  It doesn’t work like that for me.  The story wasn’t written that way, and there’s nothing in the text that would cause me to receive it that way.

That doesn't mean there's anything wrong with disliking one of the main foursome (or any character, for that matter) - obviously we're all going to have different preferences, and everyone is free to enjoy or reject whatever parts of a story they want, or to like or dislike whatever characters they want. I know that some people have more fun disregarding canon and doing their own thing, which is fine.  My own personal zone of enjoyment comes from receiving the story as closely to how I think it was intended to be read as I can, and personally, when I look at this particular story, what I see is that all the members of Team 7 clearly demonstrate their love for Sasuke in ways that he himself later recognizes and acknowledges. All of them are driven by their desire to save him and their unwillingness to hurt him. All of them make repeated choices to chase after him when he runs away, to trust him when he hasn't exactly earned it, to give him another chance when he doesn't appear to deserve it. ALL of them, not just Naruto, do these things multiple times throughout the story, and Sasuke owes his life (and thus his eventual recovery) to ALL of them, many times over. Kakashi disobeys Hokage-elect Danzō and breaks the law to negotiate for Sasuke's life with a foreign head of state. Sakura and Kakashi both have opportunities to kill Sasuke in the Land of Iron, and they choose to spare him instead. Kakashi stops Sasuke from killing his only friends at two different points in the story, which would have been a mistake Sasuke couldn't have recovered from. Sasuke would have died in Kaguya's desert dimension if Sakura hadn't saved him (Sakura, who knew that Sasuke wasn't even truly on her side yet, who knew he'd abandoned her for dead multiple times already that day). Kaguya's bone bullet would have killed Sasuke too, if Kakashi, with his intention to die in Sasuke's place, hadn't leapt in front of it (Kakashi, who also knew that Sasuke wasn't fully on their side yet, who also knew that Sasuke had abandoned him for dead earlier that day). Sasuke and Naruto would have BOTH died in the Final Valley if Sakura and a severely injured Kakashi hadn't chased after them to heal their injuries.

Remove any one member of Team 7, and Sasuke never makes it home. Without the combined efforts of all three of his teammates, he doesn't survive.  That’s the way it should be, thematically, for a story whose first and most foundational premise was the importance of teamwork, and since Sakura was just as essential to that framework as everyone else, I’m just as invested in her relationship with Sasuke as I am in his relationship with everyone else.  You can’t remove one leg from a four-legged stool without damaging the integrity of the entire structure, and for me, discounting any single member of Team 7 irreparably damages the integrity of the entire story. 

TL;DR: I love all of the Team 7 relationships, including Sakura and Sasuke's, because despite what some segments of fandom seem to believe, the text of the story never gives me any reason not to.

[hannahchronism]

my entire internet experience really can kind of boil down to "is this person being unnecessarily confrontational about shit you could just not engage with or am i aggressively nonconfrontational and will avoid things that should be addressed?" and then spending the next week thinking about it with increasing levels of still being unsure

[sskk-manifesto]

Furthermore, it's interesting to note how it's been stated multiple times that in the sskk partnership Akutagawa is supposed to take precisely the role of defense. As long as he was in the mafia, working alone, Akutagawa employed exclusively an aggressive attack technique, which he excelled in; but with someone like Atsushi to complete him, he's most efficient by offering cover from behind. I've talked before about how Akutagawa accepting the role of support is an exceptional indicator of his character growth as a way for him to renounce to his obsession of proving himself in order to collaborate with someone else, as well as disavowing blind violence for a role of aid.

... The best part is that, we now know that sskk actually got there :')

The worst part of them all is that it's explicitly stated that Akutagawa only killed the one Mimic soldier in order to protect the other mafia operatives. He says “So I decided to take care of it”: “so”, as a direct consequence of the soldier attacking the others, a form of protection. Because Akutagawa has always been protective: when he defended as best as he could his family in the slums, when he protected Higuchi even at the cost of failing his mission, when he shielded his pm companions from Kajii's bombs, when he repeatedly saved his partner / rival's life for no apparent reason. His character arc culmination and pivotal character development moment frames him dying to protect someone else. His protectiveness is the one characteristic that stuck to him even in his darkest pm days, when nothing human seemed to be left in him. And it's quite tragic how Akutagawa's only compassionate trait, his only sign of humanity gets him reprimanded and beaten up by the person he admires and idolizes the most, who seems hell-bent on crushing every hint of humanity in him.

It's also bitter how later Dazai tells Akutagawa “Cutting open unfortunate hostages isn't the only thing you're good for. You should be able to use your powers for defense, too.”, when defending was exactly what Akutagawa was doing in the first place, if only by the sole modality he knew, that is retaliating tenfold.

[poisonofthepaint]

thinking of you

jack broke up with you because he said you needed someone younger. yet, he's still offended when he hears you're going on a date with someone else. you show up to his apartment to set the record straight.

cw: MDNI, make up sex to the max, pinv, no protection, kind of angsty but like not really, reader is independent and sort of snappy (for good reason), nipple sucking, pet names (angel, honey, sweetheart), not sure what else lmk if you see anything!

a/n: i wrote this off two beers so i'm gonna say i proofread it, but who knows...

wc: 2k

Jack didn't get pissed off. Sure, he would get mildly annoyed. He could snap. But he was never filled with unbridled rage. He could contain himself, calm himself down. He learned it in the military. He knew you couldn’t fight as well if you were angry, it clouded your judgement too much, you have to keep, at least a little bit, of a level head.

But tonight, Jack was pissed off. Robby had told him you had a date tonight. He told Jack over text, saying he, ‘figured he should know.” Jack couldn’t decide if he was thankful for the message or not.

That is what he said to you, when it ended. That you needed someone your own age. That you needed to get out there and act your age. It wasn’t good to work with someone and date them, act older than you need to. It was self-defense, he later realized. He was insecure about himself, and what he could or could not give you, so he ended it. He couldn’t believe you had listened to his incoherent ramblings. What he said made no sense, and he knew that now, but he also knew he had to take a step back and leave you the hell alone. He had fucked up, that was for sure. Begging for you back, when you had no reason to come back, would be even more fucked up.

He was regretting that mentality right now, all he wanted to do was call you. To tell you to come home. To come back to him. That guy didn’t know how to treat you, he didn’t know what you needed. He was only there to get in your pants. You were far too fucking intelligent for some immature douchebag. Jack knew what you needed, he was the only one who knew how to treat you right. He would give anything for you. This kid would not. Jack didn’t even need to know his name to know that.

Jack’s finger hovered over the call button on your contact. He tried to think of some emergency to get you to come see him instead of being on that date. But he couldn’t think of anything. There was no reason, fake or real, why you shouldn’t be on that date. 

He sighs, puts down his phone, sits in his recliner. His cushy chair, one of the only things he has splurged on in his life, faces the window, which overlooks the city. The buildings sparkle at him. It’s around seven, usually he’d be at work by now, but it was his day off. He wishes it wasn’t, he wishes that he had something to distract him. He thinks about grabbing his go bag, thinks about changing into what he wears under his scrubs and telling Shen and Ellis to just leave him the hell alone and let him work. But, he hears you in the back of his head, telling him to slow down, telling him to wait a moment, to sit with what he’s thinking instead of shoving it down.

So that’s what he does. He sits. And he thinks. And he fucking prays to whoever is listening. That you’re safe. That you’re having an okay time. That maybe you’ll come back. Even though he’s a piece of shit. Even though he’s the one who told you to leave. You’re just following his orders, after all. 

Three small, basically unhearable, knocks strike his door. He pushes off his chair with a sigh, thankful he didn’t take off his prosthetic yet. He figures it’s a neighbor, he lives by a lot of older women who tend to check up on him. 

He opens the door with a force, but his eyes get heavy when he realizes it’s you standing there. 

“Did he fucking hurt you?” Jack thunders.

“What? How do you even know where I was?”

“Answer me.”

“No, he didn’t hurt me. He just–”

“You’re scaring me a bit, sweetheart.”

You let out a long breath, Jack has both of his hands on your shoulders, giving you the eye exam of a lifetime.

“He didn’t hurt me, he’s just not you. He’s too, spritely. Too eager. I don’t know.”

Jack fights a smile, he bites the inside of his cheek. “No one is me.”

“Not the time to be fucking cocky, Jack. We need to seriously talk.”

The smile he was fighting fades from his face. He becomes pale, his heart is tachy. 

“You fucked me up real good. You told me I was wrong about something that felt so right–” you say, crossing your arms and staring. You’ve entered the apartment at this point. You stand at the island in the kitchen.

He cuts you off. “I was wrong. I’m wrong. You’re what I need. I need you more than I need work, and I’ve never said that about anything.” 

Jack swipes a hand over his face, crossing the room to come stand in front of you. “I was scared, I was being a fucking pussy. Worrying about what people would think, worrying about you.”

“I don’t need anyone to worry about me.” you state firmly.

“I know that. I know that. Please, give it another go with me. I won’t fuck it up. I won’t. I see what it’s like now. I see it. I hear it. Loud and clear.” he’s inches from your face, holding you at your hips. 

You don’t move just yet. Your eyes scan his, you're used to his eye contact by now. You’re searching for any signs of lying, any signs of unseriousness, but there isn’t any. Jack gives you a sharp nod. His eyes are so sharp, you think that they could cut daggers into yours.

You swiftly nod back, just once. Up and down. And that’s all it takes.

Jack’s lips are on yours before you can inhale. All teeth and tongue, he wastes no time showing you how much he missed you. The grip at your hips tightens, and he pulls you closer to him, so that your hips grind against his. So that your stomach can feel his abs through the worn gray cotton t-shirt he has on. You try not to notice that it’s the shirt you would sleep in when you slept over, but you do. Because he’s a sentimental man, because he’s obviously been punishing himself with his memories of you.

He comes up for air and shakes his head at you. “Thank you.” he kisses you again.

“Thank me?” you query.

“Thank you for coming back. You know what I need.”

“You know what I need. I never had to fucking ask for anything. You just knew. Before I did.” you admit.

“You know me too. You know me better than anyone does, angel.”

You pull his face back to yours. Eager to feel his lips after a long five months. 

He grabs your hips again, hoisting you up onto him. You wrap around his midsection. The friction from your jeans rubs you just right and you moan into Jack.  

“Tell me more,” is all he says in response. 

You groan. “I didn’t miss your old man jokes.”

“Yes you did, that’s why you’re here.”

He lays you back in the bed and doesn’t give you a chance to respond. The kisses become more fervent as he pushes the gym shorts off of himself. You make quick work of your jeans, unbuttoning them and pushing them down, along with your underwear. 

You and Jack didn’t need to talk it through any more. You were on the same page. You just understood it. You two could go hours without speaking, and still say a million words to each other. 

It’s like at work, all you had to do was shoot him a look and he understood. When a patient wasn’t going to make it, when something suspicious was going on, when something hysterical was going on, but you couldn’t laugh. You didn’t need words to convey how you were feeling. And if your eyes weren’t going to tell him tonight, your cunt definitely was. You could feel yourself dripping onto his sheets. 

“I don’t think I have any condoms. I–” Jack’s eyes dance around his minimalistic bedroom.

“I don’t care. I’m clean, you’re clean. Please, I need it.”

Jack doesn’t need to be told twice. He lines himself up, groans at the wet spot on the bed. And then he goes in. One long, deep, thrust. He bottoms out. You throw your head back onto the pillows before you’re reminded of his ‘thing’. Your eyes snap up at him and he grins. A cheshire smile. One that you couldn’t forget if you tried. 

His cock curves inside you like you’re two puzzle pieces. You clench around him until he has to ask you to let up.

He sets his pace. Long, deep, hard. Jack wasn’t one to fuck fast. He needed to enjoy it. To soak it all in. To feel you, to remember every inch of your walls. He wanted to always remember each individual fuck. What sets them apart? How did you look when you came this time versus the other fifty times? He once told you he thought about starting a sex journal so he could become the best at getting you off. 

Jack has about zero thoughts in his head that don’t surround around making you finish. He wants it like a prisoner wants an escape. He feels like he just saw his parole officer and they set him free, or put him on house arrest, he’s sure he’s not completely out of the dog house, but none of that matters to him now.

He’s inside you, and you’re making the noises he’s dreamt about every night since you left. “That’s it, pretty girl. That’s it.”

You clench again, hard. “I wanna– fuck– be on top.”

He doesn’t respond, just flips you over.

You straddle his waist and he pulls you in closer, sucking on your pert nipple. Jack guides your hips up and down before giving into what he really wants to do. 

Instead of moving you, he holds you still, opting to drive his cock up into you. You hiss, make a noise between a groan and a squeal. You bury your head into his shoulder and it moves you impossibly closer to him. 

He shifts so that one arm has a hold of your waist. The other comes between your two bodies, searching for your clit. He finds it, without looking, and rubs sharp circles that follow his pace on it. Your head flies back. 

“Fuck I’m—”

“Yup, me too, honey. C’mon, let me have it. Let it all go.”

You gasp at the feeling. It rushes out of you almost as soon as you recognize the tight knot in your stomach.  You can’t control your noises anymore, and neither can Jack.

He comes with you, burying his cock into your heat. He groans, over and over, and then pants.

You hum against him, resting your sweaty forehead against his. He moves so he can place a kiss on yours, a sweet one, to tell you you’re okay.

Neither of you make any effort to move, pleased to stay intertwined after being separated.

“What was his name?”

“Here come the questions. Can’t you let me enjoy this?”

“Never,” Jack quips. He shoots you a look, waiting for his answer.

“His name is Jack.”

His face turns pale, all jokes leave his brain, “You went on a date with someone who has my name?”

“I thought it would make the transition easier! I was hoping you wouldn’t ask!” you shake your head in shame. 

“How old was he?”

“Oh my god. That I am not answering. It doesn’t matter. The whole time I just thought about you, and your bullshit excuses for ending it. Telling me I need someone younger, c’mon.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.”

“Forgotten. We’re here now. Just don’t ever fucking do it again. I hate working day shift.” your face lights up. “Is that how you found out? Did Robby say something to you?”

Your mouth falls open at Jack’s cackling. 

“So old men gossip too, got it. This is fucked.” 

Jack shakes his head at you, calms himself down. “I can’t tell you how happy I am that you’re here.”

“You don’t have to. I know.”

[luveline]

hello might i ask for sassy badass reckless reader who is the #1 leading cause of aaron's gray hairs pls 🤞🏻 he is SO exasperated with her like he is TIRED™ but also tweaking bcs he's horrendously down bad for her he's gna throw up

Good morning. I hope you slept well, honey. Can you come to work early, say 6.10AM? I’d like to see you and talk about something in person. 

You squint at the text that’s just come through. Another follows as you’re finishing, lighting the dark of your room.

I love you. Sorry, I know you don’t like when I forget to tell you in the mornings. 

Your own response is sent without propriety. I love you too handsome. 6.10 is not gonna work.

Can you make an effort for me? he asks. 

You do your very best. 

“It’s almost seven,” Hotch says when you finally get there that morning, his frown audible and plain to see. 

You hold up the bag of sugar donuts you’d purchased from the truck on the square just outside of Quantico’s endless parking lots. “Necessary delay.” 

“Unnecessary. I asked you nicely to come early and you’re barely on time,” he grumbles. 

How adorable. You put the bag of donuts on the desk and ignore the paperwork laid out waiting for you in favour of his side of the desk. He smells like cedar, his suit sleeve starched under your hand. You lean back against the lip of his desk and pretend you hadn’t been thinking about climbing into his lap —he’s formidable and lovely and that’s the best combination for lounging about atop someone, especially when that someone is very good at pressing you backwards, and better at kissing your neck. 

He knows what you’re thinking. “You’ve woken up in a mood,” he murmurs. 

“A good one,” you promise. 

You take his coffee and steal a sip. Hotch, resigned, lays a hand on your thigh. “I have important things to talk about, you know? I thought I made that clear this morning.” 

“You made a couple of things clear.” 

“Don’t say it like that.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like I…” He tilts his head to the side. “Like I’ve been sending you dirty texts or photos.” 

“Is that an option? I don’t think I’ve subscribed to those emails.” 

“You make me out to be this salacious lark–”

“Aaron, I don’t do anything of the sort.” You can hardly hold back a laugh. “I’m sorry I implied you were sexting me, okay? I wish you had been.” He sighs a long-suffering sigh as you carry on. “But you were very formal. I’ll be sure to tell HR the same thing.” 

His hand slips between your thighs. Nowhere it shouldn’t be, just trapped between soft flesh. “Don’t tell HR anything.” 

His coffee is lukewarm and unsweetened on your tongue. Would it kill your uptight love to add just a dash of cream and sugar? Wrinkling your nose, you set aside the mug and press your mildly heated hand to his cheek. Just quickly, brushing a thumb up to the skin below his eye before you let it fall. “Tell me what you wanted me to come in early for. And, for the record, I’m sorry for not trying to get here before, just I didn’t sleep well, and my neck hurt too much to rush.” 

He looks like he wants to ignore your apology. He doesn’t ask you for much, and showing up when he’d wanted you to would’ve been the kinder thing to do —he can be annoyed as both boss or boyfriend. 

But he doesn’t have it in him. 

“Why didn’t you sleep?” he asks softly. 

“Thinking too much about my nice boyfriend.” 

“Really?” 

You slouch a little. Cover his hand where it rests between your legs. “I don’t know. It was really hot, and my mattress is getting old, probably.” 

He ushers you down for a sympathetic kiss. He’s always so sorry to hear about your minor ailments, he must like you too much. 

You attempt to crawl into his lap, curling an arm behind his head. He, disgruntled and yet far from reluctant, lets you take a seat. 

[pagesfromthevoid]

Ya'aburnee | r. r.

Robert "Bob" Reynolds x Avenger!witch!reader

And I never got to tell you how I love the way my eyes make yours look green too

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Witchcraft

Author's Note: I combined @domoron's request with an idea I had so I hope you don't mind my dude. Also, there will probably be a part two (but this is NOT a series lol)

Talk to Me! | AO3

“This place has really gone to shit, huh?”

Bucky just sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose, as she stands in the foyer of the common space. Yelena has her feet kicked up on the table, eyes drifting up from her tablet. Walker was passing through, but has stopped mid-step as Ava cocks her head to the side like she’s trying to understand. The only people who don’t seem to be mildly annoyed by her presence are Alexei, who is just barely containing his excitement, and Bob, who is looking between her and Bucky like he’s seeing two celebrities at once.

She shifts her weight onto one leg, crossing her arms over her chest as she takes in the motley crew before her. The New Avengers. The group that’s supposed to replace her and her friends and defend earth from whatever is thrown at them –and they all look like they haven’t slept properly in their entire life. 

There’s a file on every single one of them –and she’s read each one several times over. She’s known Bucky for several years now –went to war for him, even. The others she’s heard of in passing –Yelena and Alexei from Natasha; Walker from Sam. The other two –Ava, Bob –she doesn’t know outside of news reports and files. And even then, Bob’s file is the newest.

Hard to believe the guy sitting in the corner is some all powerful being who put New York into a blackout. But who is she to judge?

“Are you here to be helpful, or are you here to be an asshole?” Bucky asks, standing up finally. Four strides and he’s standing in front of her.

“I can do both,” she points out, uncrossing her arms and putting her hands on her hips. “But I’m sure that’s not what you want, is it?”

“I called you for a reason, Hex,” he reminds her, shaking his head. His voice is lower now, like he’s trying to keep the rest of his team from hearing. “You…you know what a team is able to do. We are not the Avengers. We’re not a team; we’re a time bomb.”

“You know,” she interrupts, but she’s softened some around the edges. “Dr. Banner said the exact same thing.”

*****

It’s hard to admit, but the New Avengers —this ragtag team of assholes —are a better team than the Avengers ever were. Not in the sense of power —no, but in the sense of camaraderie. They actually seem to care about one another; not just passing friends or colleagues. 

Yeah, the Avengers cared about each other. But not like this. Not like an actual family. 

It is a hard thing to realize; to accept that, while maybe her team was efficient and good at their jobs, they were only friends because they had to be. Sure, there were closer friendships separately —Nat and Clint, who had history already. She and Steve became close after Bucky almost killed them both years ago. But the Avengers were surface level friends.

Which is totally okay, at the end of the day. 

They did their jobs. They saved the universe. Then…they moved on. 

But the New Avengers…they care about each other. In a weird, almost sibling-like way. There’s a lot of arguing; a lot of yelling. But they frequently eat dinner together, at a table. Even when they're battered and bloody, they will sit down and eat whatever they manage to find. But together. 

The first time she’s invited to join “family time,” as Alexei calls it, she’s confused. He ushers her to the table and sits her down beside Bob, insisting that she has to join. No one else has joined yet, and Bob says they’re all usually late. 

“What’s going on? Mission briefing?” She asks, leaning over closer to Bob to whisper. 

He looks down at her, confused himself. “Oh, uh —we’re having dinner. It’s Walker’s turn to cook this week.”

“You…eat dinner together?” She pushes, and Bob seems like he’s enjoying that she’s confused. Maybe because he finally has something he can explain to her instead of the other way around. 

“Alexei makes us all eat together,” he explains, biting at his nails. “I…I like it. It feels nice, like for an hour we get to pretend we’re normal.”

“You do this every night?” 

He nods some, though he looks like he’s considering the answer. “Most nights, at least. Depends on what they’re doing, or if they’re here. Sometimes I don’t join, for uh…you know, reasons.”

She knows what he means. Even if she hadn’t read his file, she would be able to tell that Bob struggles with a lot. 

“I understand,” she offers, putting a hand on his arm. He flinches, and she pulls back almost immediately. But when he opens his eyes, he seems confused. “Are you okay?”

“Are…are you? You didn’t —did you see anything?”

“I saw you flinch, Bob —that’s all I saw.”

There’s almost immediate relief in his eyes, and the tension in his shoulders drops as he leans back in his chair. She’s about to ask him another question when the rest of the team find their way to the table and sit. 

Then it’s like she’s always been a part of the team. 

Maybe that’s the day they all just decided that she’s a New Avenger and an Avenger. Because after that dinner, she doesn’t leave. Her things have found their way to a room across from Bob’s and next to Yelena. She trains and spars and argues with everyone. 

The only thing she doesn’t do is go on missions. Mostly because Valentina insists she is not part of the team —but she’s also pretty sure Valentina thinks it’s bad for optics somehow. Of course, she doesn’t mind not going on missions. She stays back in the command center, manning the comms and computers. Bob often joins her, and she helps him learn how to operate the tools here. 

“This is…good. I get this,” he says one day, looking over a map with moving dots —the team —on it. “I’m able to help finally without…you know, getting in the way.”

“I doubt you’re in the way,” she reassures, sliding her chair over towards him, reaching across him to hit a button on the screen to send coordinates. “But I’m glad you enjoy learning.”

He hums a bit as she reaches across him. She notes how warm he is, even at a distance. 

“The target is about five miles ahead,” she reminds the team, pulling back but still next to him. Her eyes are on his screen. “There’s eight armored vehicles but there’s no one manning them.”

Bob is biting at his nails again, something she’s noticed he does a lot when he’s restless, and she instinctively reaches over to stop him. Gently, without even thinking about what she’s doing, she pulls his hand away and just holds it while she punches in the next set of coordinates. The only reason she realizes what she’s done is because Bob, instead of pulling away, squeezes her hand. That’s when she looks between their hands and him, and he gives her a timid smile. She returns the smile and the gesture, squeezing his hand back before Bucky is asking for her to map out an exit route. 

There’s a sigh of relief when they get out –back on the jet, back in the air. She shuts the comms off and leans back, staring at the screen for a moment. Then she turns to Bob.

“Wanna grab something to eat?”

He hesitates, like he thinks she’s talking to someone else, but then he nods. “Uh yeah –we can make something –,”

“I meant, like –do you want to go out and get something,” she corrects, standing up and stretching. “They won’t be back until close to two in the morning so we have some time to kill.”

Bob visibly blanches and she frowns some as he slowly stands. “I don’t…I don’t know if that’s a good idea. I haven’t really, you know, left the Tower since everything happened with…with him.”

“I trust you,” she promises, holding her hand out to him.

“I don’t,” he admits, but he takes her hand cautiously. “Can we…can we just pick up something and bring it back?”

It’s a step, she thinks. 

When they return to the Tower with two bags of Thai food (Bob insisted on getting everyone something, even if they had to reheat it), they sit on the floor in front of the window and eat in comfortable silence. She tries to think about the last time she’s just sat with someone like this, and it hurts to realize it’s been too long. Before the Avengers destroyed Sokkovia –god, more than ten years. When her grandmother was still alive and blessing the apartment with incense and cinnamon. Then she thinks about the last time she practiced properly, and that hurts just as much.

“I uh,” Bob suddenly says, looking out the window. Avoiding her gaze, like he might be in trouble when he finishes his sentence. “I read your file the other day.”

“I’ve read yours too,” she offers, like it’s a right of passage to read about your friends to get to know them better. “I didn’t know Valentina had my file.”

“She doesn’t,” he reassures, mixing his rice up carefully. “Bucky uh, gave it to me.”

“And what did you learn about me, Bob?”

“Are you…,” he hesitates, trying to figure out how to phrase it. It’s always a little funny, watching as people try to come to terms with what she is. Especially relatively normal people. “Are you really…like, a witch?”

“Does that scare you?” She asks, setting her food down. 

“I…I don’t know,” he admits, looking down at his hands for a moment. “I guess not? Should I be?”

Shaking her head, she lifts her hand and with a careful swish of her wrist, tendrils of light wrap around her hand. It’s a soft green, slithering over her fingers and up her arm. The Tower is dark enough that the magic illuminates their small space, and Bob’s eyes are wide as he follows each branch of the magic forms into another.

“Is this…do you do like –I don’t know, crystals and all that stuff?” He asks, though he’s reaching up like he’s going to touch the tendrils. 

She doesn’t stop him, tilting her head to the side as his fingers graze them. They wrap around him briefly –warm, soft, like a whisper against his skin –before retreating back to her. 

“I do,” she offers as the magic drifts away into the air, mist surrounding them before evaporating into the empty space. “I even have a broom.”

“Really?” He asks, eyes wide as he looks at her, back straight. 

“Not the way you think, but yes,” she laughs, leaning back. “Practicing witches use brooms for purification purposes –sweep away the negative energies. I’m sure I could fly on it, but that’s more because of me enchanting it and not the broom itself.”

“So you’re…you’re like actually a witch –not just, magic powers but like…the crystal stores and the candles and all that?”

“All the women in my family are witches,” she explains, holding out her hand again. The tendrils return, but this time they wrap around his hand and pull him gently towards her. “My grandmother raised me, and taught me. My mom passed before she could teach me anything. But yes, I practice the actual act of witchcraft while also actually having magic. No experiments or needles needed.”

His eyes light up with the emerald magic, watching as it tugs him into her orbit. Bob doesn’t fight it, too mesmerized by the feel of it against his skin. 

“That’s why I didn’t see anything when I touched you,” she explains, taking his hand in hers. The tendrils swirl around their hands, slinking up his sleeve and over his shoulders. He follows it carefully, like it’s the most amazing thing he’s ever seen. Maybe it is. “I shield myself from the shadows –and that’s all your powers are. That’s all…he is. A shadow, trying to pry and consume.”

There’s a pause in the conversation as the tendrils slowly wrap around them entirely. Holding them together, like the magic itself is trying to bring them closer together. She’s got a good control over it, she always has, but sometimes it’s got a mind of its own. It’s hard to explain to people that her magic is a living thing, that it’s not just a part of her but it’s own entity. She just hosts it, and thanks it. But she thinks Bob would understand this better than anyone else, because he…he has his own entities. Perhaps he doesn’t like them, but he has them.

“Is…the shielding. Can you…can you teach someone that?” His voice is soft, a little shaky suddenly. But there’s a hopeful undertone as he meets her eyes. 

“I can,” she promises. And it is a promise. “Shielding is less magic and more intentions –and I can absolutely teach you if that’s what you want.”

“I…I would really like that.”

_______

Part two

_______

Bob Taglist: @ilovemarvel12 @k1ttyjuice @magikdarkholme @yesshewrites1 @evanbabybear @jaes-last-words @keira-kaz2y5

[ode2rin]

1 | ANYONE BUT YOU .ೃ

summary. as lines get blurred, hearts get flustered, and a scheme ensues, your brother's best friend suddenly seems way more interesting than he used to be.

content/warnings. 5k+ wc (part 1/3) reader has little to no college friends | reader hates kaiser's guts | PROTECTIVE kaiser lol | | pet names (dollface) & a lot of profanity (it's kaiser) | minimal proofread

💭 masterlist | next part

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can go with you anymore.”

Your ears were ringing.

After the words hung over the line, a heavy silence descended, punctuated only by the dull thud of your heartbeat echoing in your ears. The phone line seemed to distort, and the world beyond reduced to a distant murmur as a disorienting ringing filled your ears. Yet, despite the shock rippling through, you managed to maintain a facade.

“Ah, I see. It’s no problem. See you around!” Your chirped voice made you cringe internally, but it was a better front than sounding like a defeated kid whose mom said no over a piece of candy at a grocery store.

Before he could say anything else, you clicked the end button faster than he could spew some tacky excuse. Throwing your phone to the side, you settled onto your bed, lying on your back, staring at the uninteresting ceiling of your room.

Sure, it was no problem at all— the music festival was just six hours away, and your date had just canceled on you over the phone. It’s no big deal facing your college blockmates without a companion as initially planned, and it’s totally not a problem that you will most likely be a third– hell, a seventh wheel, actually, and have them talk behind your back – speculating about why you're going alone or if you were just making it up that you had someone to bring.

Yes, it’s not a fucking problem at all.

You don’t even like the artist lineup, anyway (maybe you’re mildly interested with one band that’s attending).  You wouldn’t bother if you weren’t just a sophomore still trying to find a group of friends you can call your own. It's embarrassing enough that freshmen even had it better than you. It’s not a race, for sure, but in college– the truth lies blatant that support systems help. A lesson you learned the hardest way.

“Y/N? Are you in there?” Three soft knocks on your door and a muffled voice, surely coming from your older brother, interrupted your pity party.

“Yes. Come in,” you confirmed. The door creaked open, revealing a mop of magenta hair leaning over your door frame.

“There’s food downstairs. We ordered your favorite.”

“We?”

“Kaiser is downstairs.”

Of course, he is. 

Your brother’s best friend must have really taken it to heart when your mom told him he can treat your family as his own. Too deep into his heart, if you could comment. You see him around the house more than you see your parents, and if that wasn’t tiresome enough, he’s literally a damn superstar in your university. Every corner, every room, in halls and library, everyone can’t seem to be over his name like a broken record.

You wouldn’t be this annoyed, hostile even, if said man was just as nice as your brother. But instead, he was far by the most obnoxious, foul-mouthed, arrogant prick you’ve ever known. Alexis should have never kicked some ball with that conceited oaf a decade ago. Life would have been so much better. But no— reality is, the bane of your existence in the form of blonde hair and sharp blue eyes, is in your house’s kitchen, probably gulping down your favorite drinks in the fridge. 

If you can’t seem to have friends, your older brother seems to be goddamn bad at picking his.

“Hey, dollface. Missed me?” Speak of the damn devil and he shall appear.

The first thing you’re met with after coming down is a sight of Michael Kaiser, sitting high and comfortably on one of the counter’s bar stools. Your gaze trails down to his hand where you see a peek of his crown tattoo— and would you look at that? He’s holding a can of your Coke Zero.

“Oh, so that’s why my life was going sideways again,” you feigned a sigh in disappointment, making sure it was loud enough for him to hear, “because you’re back.”

In your unwanted years of knowing this guy, you’ve soon realized that none of your words, no matter how sharp or snarky they get, would ever faze him. Evidence would be how he just openly chuckled at your remark. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I missed you and your smart mouth, too. Don’t worry.”

“Trust me, worry is not in the list of emotions I would ever feel for you.”

“Well, does attraction make it to the list?”

Years ago, perhaps it would have. Not that he needs to know—no chance. Your silly childhood crush on him was your deepest, darkest mistake. You might be overdramatic, but this was Michael Kaiser, and god, you would rather get caught having feelings for anyone but him.

Rolling your eyes at him, you sneer, “You wish.”

“Oh, trust me, I do wish,” he mocks your tone.

“Fuck off.” 

“That won’t get rid of me, I’m afraid,” he shrugs before winking at you. You shook your head in annoyance.

You took the seat across from him and settled. You were about to lean to reach the box of pizza at the other end of the countertop, when Kaiser reached for it first and placed it in front of you.

You turned to look at him, half expecting a smirk or yet another wink from the blonde, but instead, he was preoccupied browsing on his phone as if his body moved on its own to attend to you.

You shrugged off the weird occurrence and turned all attention to the pizza and its heavenly scent sipping through the gaps of its box, just in time for Alexis to take the seat next to his best friend. You drowned the noise of their conversation as they started talking about last away games.

Your brother and Kaiser had been the most valuable players of your university’s soccer team for as long as you’ve remembered. They were two years older, so by the time you entered university, they were already making big names in the field. Rumors had it that there were already offers lining up at their feet.

If you come to think of it, it wouldn’t be this hard making friends if you would just be vocal about being Alexis Ness’ younger sibling, but the limelight and pretentious popularity it came with was something you wouldn’t wish upon yourself. You wanted real and genuine friends, not people who wanted to be around you because it was a step closer to your brother and his best friend.

Like earlier, Alexis’ voice came reaching your eardrums, snapping you out of your thoughts. After hearing what he had to ask, though, you wished you had a way to physically block out his words.

“Are you not going to get ready for the festival?” your brother asked, meanwhile, his dear friend seemed to take great interest in what you’re about to say as both of them peered over you.

“Not going anymore,” you said, as nonchalant as you could to play pretend.

“Why? You’ve been looking forward to it the whole week.”

Heat crept into your ears and cheeks as embarrassment filled you. Sure, you might not be prancing around being all excited about it, but if your brother was able to notice it, your enthusiasm must have been evident then. God, you felt like an utter fool now.

“It got canceled,” you looked away from them.

Alexis looked at you with furrowed brows, “What do you mean? It’s not–”

“My date canceled on me. I’m not going anymore to save face and not make a fool out of myself. There, happy?” you snapped.

Before you could even feel the guilt from bursting out unprovoked to your brother, you swiftly got up from the stool heading back to your room, leaving the two of them in the kitchen looking concerned contrarily. One with worried eyes glancing at your room hesitantly, and the other one with a clenched jaw and narrowed eyes.

It seemed everyone was testing your patience today, as for the second time, your ears rang—not from a last-minute cancellation this time, but from the persistent sound of your ringing phone.

Your heavy eyes fluttered open, weighed down by the sleep from your ignoring-the-world nap after the exchange with your supposed date and your brother. Disoriented and groggy, you reached out, fingers fumbling to check the caller deserving of your unrelenting fury.

Kaiser, the screen read, and suddenly, the urge to throw your phone at the nearest wall almost overwhelmed your senses.

But you answered the call anyway, because logic says that he was still your brother’s closest, and sometimes, that warranted a call that might be about him.

“I swear to god this better be important–”

“Get ready,” he interrupted.

“What?”

“Look out your window.”

Groaning, you rose to your feet, moving your drapes aside to see what awaited outside.

Outside your house’s gates, a midnight blue sports car, all too familiar, was parked across the driveway. Its owner leaned lazily over its door, one hand in his pocket while the other held his phone pressed to his ear, looking right back at you with that shit-eating grin.

“What the hell are you on?” you muttered into the phone.

You instantly closed the drapes after meeting eyes with him.

It’s infuriating—He’s infuriating. But damn, does he look good when he smiles like that. And it’s not helping your case that he was clad in loose-fitting denim pants and a black shirt, sufficiently showcasing both his tattoo and his lean yet toned build.

It’s sorcery how he makes simple and ordinary clothing look like it was screaming high-end and luxury. Only he can do that, you admit.

“As I said, get ready,” he repeated over the phone, “We only have less than two hours before your music festival or something starts.”

He’s taking me to it? “Why?”

Only one word in response, yet the two of you understood what you’re pertaining to. Silence filled the line for a moment before you heard a subtle click of his tongue.

“Because you look ugly when you sulk,” and he hung up.

You should be irritated at him hanging up abruptly and calling you ugly, but for some reason you don’t know, it puts a smile on your face. 

The first one today.

Kaiser wishes he had a bigger car— which one would deem ridiculous, given that his car could easily match the price of two or even three minivans.

But if it meant having you sit not so close that your scent infiltrates his senses beyond his sound judgment, he’d gladly trade his lambo for a minivan any day.

You were intoxicating— not akin to the grip of liquor, because it would be inadequate in comparison. But rather intoxicating in the same way as the irresistible magnetism that beckons a madman to its vices.

And he must be really mad because you weren’t even sitting shoulder-to-shoulder close to him. You’re sitting comfortably at the passenger seat, a good distance in between, and yet he acts like a raging teenager who got locked up with his crush in the utility room. It is absolutely embarrassing, even for someone like him.

“Did Alexis ask you to do this?” you suddenly inquired, your gaze fixed on your side of the car.

Thank heavens you broke the silence first, because who knows what ungodly phrases he would come up with in an attempt of small talk with you?

“No. Though I bet he would have taken you himself,” he snorted, of course your brother would, “If our coach weren’t so pissed at him these days.”

Ah, so that explained why you hadn't seen Alexis around the house before hopping into Kaiser's car.

Momentarily, you turned to him. It was so swift that he might have missed it if he wasn’t so hyper aware of your every move in this damn confined space. “Is he in trouble?” you inquired to the blonde, your voice concerned and hesitant.

“Nothing you have to worry about, doll.”

“Stop with the nicknames,” you hissed, attempting to intimidate. 

Unfazed, he countered with a cheeky “Make me,” under his breath. His smirk practically audible, even without you glancing his way.

Silence overtook between the two of you once more. You fixated on the road ahead, noting the nearing destination as the glow of the festival stage lights peeked into view.

It’s your chance— your chance to release the words that have lingered at the edge of your tongue since he urged you to get ready almost an hour ago. You stole a glance at the man driving beside you. His eyes focused on the road, his left hand steady on the steering wheel while his timepiece-adorned hand rested comfortably on the gearshift. In another frame of mind, you might have found yourself lost in the rhythm of his long, slender fingers tapping against it. You snapped out of it before he could point it out.

You stole one last glance before turning away to whisper, “Thank you… Kaiser.”

Instead of saying welcome like a polite person would, your companion would of course, choose to say something as, “You owe me something now.”

Of course, you thought. Mentally rolling your eyes, you ask, resigning to his antics, “What do you want?” 

“Call me by my name.”

“Did you not hear? I said, thank you Kai–”

“The one you used to call me.”

Mikka.

It was a silly nickname you gave him– back when Alexis first brought him home for snacks nearly ten years ago. He and Alexis were eleven, and you were barely nine.

You remembered the blonde kid, all sweaty in his mud-stained clothes, clutching a worn-out ball by his hip, his gaze fixed on you with curiosity. “This is Kaiser,” your brother introduced, but the blonde stranger approached you, extending his hand.

“I’m Michael.”

“That’s… long.”

“What?”

“Your name– it’s long,” you echoed, looking up at him, “can I call you ‘Mikka’?”

“What?” Kaiser’s deep voice sliced through your reminiscence. “You had no problem calling me that before,” he pointed out.

“That’s before you beat up the boy you knew I like,” you scoffed at him, a familiar pettiness clouding your mind.

He chuckled at your retort, seemingly lost in his own memories. “Beat him up on the soccer field, you mean,” he corrected, though he wouldn’t particularly mind if it were an actual fight.

“Same thing.”

“Oh, come on! It was highschool!”

“Your point?” you countered.

“He was a snotface, anyway.” he rationalized.

“He was nice to me!”

“I suggest you rather get a dog instead— if nice is all you need. I heard dogs are fun to be around,” he sneered, “What do you think of pomeranians?”

You brushed off his question, preferring the depths of silence over the hypothetical responsibility of tending to a pup that bore more than a passing resemblance to him, both in appearance and, perhaps, in demeanor.

“I knew agreeing to come here with you was a mistake,” you sighed, exasperation lacing your words.

Surprisingly, Kaiser offered no retort. Taking his silence as a cue for your own, you settled into quietness, hoping for a peaceful remainder of the drive. Minutes drifted by until Kaiser broke the stillness with a whisper loud enough for you to catch.

“He was a slimy jerk,” he began, pausing as if hinting his careful choice of words, “and he was nice to you because he was trying to get into your pants.”

“How did you know?” you asked, meek and shy, fumbling with your fingers in your lap.  Seeking love advice and opinions from none other than the mighty Kaiser seemed absurd, but maybe, wisdom might sometimes fare well with age.

“Trust me when I say I know how boys can be,” he scoffed, a displeased furrow settling in his brows. “He wasn't the gentleman you thought he was.”

“And you? Are you a gentleman?”

Before you could stop your thoughts from escaping your rebellious mouth, the words spilled out like water through a breached dam. The lack of response from him compelled you to chew on your lip and fix your gaze on the road, refusing to spare even a glance his way, despite feeling his stare burning into the side of your face.

Meanwhile, Kaiser was aware he might be staring too long at your side for someone controlling a vehicle, but he couldn't help it. Not when you caught him off guard with a simple question, and especially not when you were trying so hard to avoid looking at him, your discomfort palpable in the air. You looked so cute—it made his mouth twitch.

Staring ahead at the road, he contemplated your question, needing no more than a minute to reach his conclusion.

When a man looks at his best friend's younger sibling in a way he shouldn’t, he’s not deserving of the title “gentleman.”

He was far from it, he concluded. With one last glance thrown your way before bringing the car to a full stop, he muttered in an uncharacteristically soft tone.

“Especially not one, doll.”

“Y/N! Over here!” a familiar voice cut through the cacophony, prompting you to scan the crowd until you finally spotted them.

Relief flooded over you at the sight of a familiar face amidst the crowd. Checking your phone had proven to be a wise decision; otherwise, you might have spent the night searching aimlessly through the vast expanse of the venue.

The venue stretched out before you was a kaleidoscope of sights and sounds that danced upon the senses. Laughter and chatter mingled with applause and the occasional roar of approval as performers graced the stage. 

Everywhere you looked there was movement and so much life. Yet amidst the bustling crowd and pulsating music, one figure occupied your thoughts more than anything else.

Kaiser's towering 6-foot frame loomed behind you, his broad shoulders carving a path of confidence through the crowd. He stood behind you like an immovable rock amidst a rushing river. And if your senses weren't deceiving you, you swore you felt the occasional brush of his hand against the small of your back, gently guiding you forward.

He was so close behind you that his breath on your nape soaked into your skin like ointment— warm to the touch, yet icy on your spine.

“Where's your date?” one of your blockmates inquired after the initial pleasantries were exchanged.

The question lingered, and suddenly, all eyes were on you. Mentally counting heads, you realized you were really on track to be the seventh wheel if you attended without a companion. Speaking of companions— you turned behind you with the intention of introducing Kaiser (not that they didn’t know him already), but your intention faltered when you noticed the scowl on his face.

“I’m the date, if you couldn’t tell,” he interjected. 

From his vantage point, he observed the widening of your eyes at his declaration. Yet, when he didn’t hear any immediate retaliation from you, he flashed you— and everyone else watching— a lopsided smirk. He sensed your blockmates’ curiosity lingering, some perhaps wondering if he was truly dating you. But none of them dared to probe further—maybe because he wasn't exactly the approachable type.

After a few murmurs of ‘oh’ and ‘really’ from your blockmates, they returned their attention to the stage, where the next performer was beginning their pre-performance monologue.

You, on the other hand, look like you were out for his blood from how you’re glaring at him. “Are you out of your mind?” you hissed under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear.

Yes. Perhaps he was. Irrationality had seized him upon hearing the question. After all, he was there with you, visible for all to see. Did they not see him? Did he look like a fucking chair to those people? Common sense must be a luxury these days, given its absence in this situation.

Yet, a small voice of reason within him attempted to intervene, suggesting that the question might have stemmed from genuine curiosity.

As his best friend's younger sibling, seeing the two of you together wasn't an unusual occurrence for those who attend the same university. They likely concluded that your presence with him at the music festival was simply a matter of normal friendship (which it was, but they don’t have to know that, nor does he desire for these extras to reduce it to just that).

“I’m helping you save face like you said earlier,” he tells you, still wearing that annoying smirk.

“How does telling them you’re my date help me save face?” If anything, you'd be hiding on campus after his stunt. You could only hope words won’t travel fast.

“Would you rather I tell them I'm chaperoning you because some jerk canceled on you?”

Your words stalled at the base of your throat, unable to counter his remark. That shut you up, much to your chagrin. He was right.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought,” he quipped, grinning at your silence. “Come closer, there’s a lot of people.”

You huffed in irritation and decided to ignore him behind you, determined to make the most of your experience here. You’d let this slide for now. After all, he was here because of you.

But it wasn’t too long before you realized that ignoring him would be as futile as trying to pluck roses without being pricked by the thorns. You knew very well that this man thrives in getting under people’s skin.

“You should be flattered.”

Genuinely appalled, you ask, “I’m sorry?”

“Accepted.”

If it wasn’t night time and the blaring lights were replaced by the sun, he could have seen the twitch that your eye did at his retort.

At this point, murder is a tempting option. Sure, he’s taller and much bigger in physique terms, but you have the rage for it. Just one more insufferable antic—one more word— from this man and the whole university will be mourning their star player’s demise first thing tomorrow morning. 

You took a deep breath to calm your murderous nerves, “Is that so? What part of telling people— oh wait, our schoolmates who are probably whispering behind our backs— that you’re my date, is flattering to you?”

The asshole had the audacity to shrug, “Calling me yours was.”

“Well then, you should be flattered. Not me.”

“You don’t know how flattered I am to be yours,” he mused.

If you didn’t know any better, his attempt at flirting might have sent warmth to your cheeks. But this was Kaiser— no one can tell when he’s being serious or just being his usual menace self talking shit like he’s employed to do so. Good thing you had better plans than spend it on his guessing games.

Just when you’re about to berate him once more, words halted on your throat because of a sight you least expected to see.

Han— the guy you’ve been talking to for almost a month now. The same guy who was your supposed date, to be more specific.

“What? Cat got your tongue, doll?”

If cats come in the form of a familiar man who’s a few good meters away, clearly having the time of his life dancing with someone, and clearly showing no signs of unavailability to go to a music festival he asked you to, then yes, it got your tongue.

You stayed silent far too long for Kaiser’s patience. Your lack of snarky clapbacks were starting to unsettle him more than he would allow. Shifting closer to you, he followed your line of sight to see what got you stunned in silence.

Recognizing what, or rather who, got your attention, he turns to you, his voice coming out too indignant, “Do you know that guy?”

“Do you?” you counter, picking up on his tone being all too casual as if they’re acquainted. 

“He’s last week’s opposing team’s goalkeeper,” or was it ‘striker’? He couldn’t recall, so he’s more or less incompetent to him. One thing he remembers, however, “and he hates me.”

You threw him a glance, “Not surprised.”

“And do I give a fuck,” he shook his head, “Why do you keep looking at him?” Don’t fucking tell me.

Your answer wasn’t any better to what he was starting to imagine, “He was… supposed to be my date to this music festival,” you mumbled, looking down at your feet.

You didn’t want to see the look on Kaiser’s face, fearing you might see pity, and so you nailed your gaze to the ground. Totally oblivious of the man peering over you rather softly.

“Why can’t he then?” he asks, voice an octave lower.

“He said they had late notice training, so he can’t come.” 

“Well, that better be his fucking ghost yapping with a brunette then,” he scoffs, looking straight to the lying man who canceled on you.

Sick of his face and sloppy dance moves, Kaiser turned his gaze back at you, only to be filled with rage because of it.

You look sad— and it made his blood boil. Not towards you, but for you.

“Y’know what? Let’s go there,” he urged, head pointing at where Han was.

Is he fucking crazy? You immediately shook your head at his scandalous suggestion. You might be feeling a little betrayed and angry, but rationality still had its hold on you— and it’s saying to not let Kaiser go with his idea. 

Instead, you tug on his forearm, eyes still on the floor before looking up at him, “Can we leave, please?” 

Kaiser was taken aback by your sudden meekness. He wasn’t used to this— to you, being all deflated and zoned out. He was used to your deadpan expressions and your eyes that seem to roll every time he utters a single word. He was used to you being, dare he say, feisty. 

And he would rather have you stay like that all day long, even when he’s the receiving end of it.

But this? You, saying please to him, of all people? He doesn’t like it. 

If this is how he gets to make you say please, then he doesn’t want it. Fuck that, and fuck that guy. How dare he.

Kaiser didn’t say anything back at your request, but you felt big calloused hands grasp on your hand still resting on his forearm. The next thing you knew, you were walking with him, shoulder-to-shoulder while his other hand was on yours guiding you to walk out of the scene.

“If I see one—just one drop of tear, I swear I am turning this damn car around.” 

Your thoughts abruptly halted at the sound of Kaiser’s threat—his ultimatum, rather. It sounded more like a promise than a threat, and you knew this man well enough to understand that he never ate his words.

You shot him a glance and snickered. There was no way in high hell you’d ever cry in the same space where he was. It was the last thing you’d ever do, even if it meant convincing yourself that what you saw earlier was just a mere look-alike of Han.

“It's nothing. We aren’t even a thing,” you dismissed, your voice flat.

“But you thought you could be,” he countered, and damn if he wasn't right. “How do you even know him?”

“We're kind of talking, well, sort of—”

“Kind of? Sort of?” he scoffed.

“God—it's like a talking stage or something casual, Kaiser! There, got it?”

“That's not exclusive,” he remarked, adding insult to injury.

Irritation bubbled in your throat as his interrogation continued. But even before you could unleash your venom, you caught yourself. He was right. And while this man had never brought you good, it wasn't fair to make him the target of your bad.

“Yeah, it's not,” you admitted, a dry, humorless laugh escaping you. You recalled the brunette he danced with earlier. “I wasn't exclusive material for his reputation, I guess.”

What reputation? “That’s bullshit.” He gritted his teeth, his hand itching towards the steering wheel, clearly tempted to turn back to the festival.

“You said it yourself, he’s an athlete,” you pointed out, “You people never like to go exclusive with someone.”

“You people? Oh, please. Do not insult me by comparing me to the likes of him.”

The sass in his voice drew a chuckle from you. It was amusing how he said it with genuine horror, as if the mere idea of being associated with Han was an insult. “Why? Are you telling me you can commit to someone exclusively?”

“Someone like who? You?” He met your gaze briefly, “Absolutely.”

What the hell. “Stop messing around,” you snorted, effectively ending the conversation.

He was playing a dangerous game, saying that to you. Did he even realize what it did? Did he hear your stupid heart hammering in your chest? It was too loud, too obvious, a frantic drum solo against your ribs. 

And the realization settled— he made your heart flutter. 

His words, so simple, so casually tossed out, had landed like a bomb, sending shrapnel through your carefully constructed walls.

Michael Kaiser, of all people, made your heart flutter.

Suddenly, the air felt thin, the car an echo chamber amplifying the frantic rhythm of your traitorous heart. You knew you should scoff, dismiss it as another one of his infuriating jabs, but the truth was like a hot coal lodged in your throat.

“I’m not though,” he countered, eyes steady on the familiar road ahead. He sounded serious– too serious. 

As you were about to retort back, the car lurched to a stop, announcing your arrival. You glanced out the window, the familiar sight of your house doing little to ease the tension that had coiled tight in your stomach.

“We’re here,” Kaiser announced, his voice a low rumble.

Hurried and flustered by the unexpected shift in the conversation, your clammy hands fumbled with the buckle, the metal cold and unyielding against your sweaty palms. You tugged, then tugged again, frustration building with each failed attempt.

“Easy, doll.” 

Before you could protest, a large hand swooped in, effortlessly unlatching the buckle with a practiced flick. The sudden proximity sent a jolt through you, making your breath hitch. You met his gaze, his eyes a blazing blue as he held your stare for a beat too long before turning away.

Taking a deep breath, you composed yourself. You reached for the door handle, pushing it open and stepping out onto the familiar pavement. Before slamming the door shut, you paused, turning back to Kaiser with a newfound resolve.

Crouching down to meet his gaze, you surprised yourself with the words that tumbled out. “Be careful on your way home and,” you paused, “Thank you... Mikka.”

The nickname slipped out before you could stop it, leaving a blush blooming across your cheeks.

Before Kaiser could react, you slammed the door shut, the sound echoing in the quiet street. 

Mikka. He repeats your words in his mind.

He watched you disappear into your house, a slow grin spreading across his face. Only when you were safely inside did he start the car, the image of your flustered face lingering in his mind.

Damn it, doll.

Meanwhile, you hurried to your room, clutching your chest where your heart still hammered a frantic rhythm.

Why did I call him that? you asked yourself.

The use of his nickname, a name you rarely uttered now, was a stark reminder that the two of you weren’t as close as you were younger.

It’s not a big deal, you tried to reason with yourself. He literally said you owed it to him, and calling it quits would be in the form of a stupid nickname. It doesn’t mean anything. Right— you were just returning a favor.

Your obvious self-deception was interrupted by the incessant buzzing of your phone, tossed carelessly on the bed. Picking up your phone, you opened one of the notifications, your breath catching in your throat.

It was a post on your university's gossip page, and there, plastered on the screen, was a picture of you and Kaiser. 

The image froze a moment in time, capturing him standing protectively behind you, his arms caging you against a barricade. Panic clawed at your throat. This picture, out in the open, could be misconstrued in so many ways. 

What were people going to think? Who took this photo, anyway?

Your eyes darted down the comment section, scrolling through a sea of unimaginable speculations, desperately searching for clues about the culprit.

Just then, a knock on the door startled you.

“Y/N? Can I talk to you?”

It was your brother— and his voice suggested he needed answers too.

Shit.

note. first mini series lmao xD will add cw as i go!

[7-deadly-cats]

killing me softly | 1

K M S M A S T E R L I S T | N E X T ->

✿ G E N R E ✿ she fell first, he fell harder | slice of life | drama

✿ P A I R I N G ✿ s1!rafe cameron x overthinking!reader (f)

✿ C O N T E N T W A R N I N G ✿ swearing, suggestive language, awkward & nervous reader, hints at a mini panic attack

✿ W O R D C O U N T ✿ 2.1k+

✿ A / N ✿ i haven't written this kind of stuff since like 8th grade (i recently graduated from university sooo yeah) but i kinda felt the urge to go back to writing now and idk. there are so many smut involved fics on here (which isn't bad, i just need more softer slow burn stuff). not saying there won't be any mildly suggestive stuff in future parts hihihihi. also i have no clue how the american school system works (i'm from europe) so pls just accept this lol. anyway, this is for all my introverted and overthinking girlies (who may or may not be kinda insane) <3

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W E E K O N E // M O N D A Y

Fuck my life.

That was the first thing on your mind as Mr. Smith announced the partners for the upcoming two-week project in art class. In pairs, you were supposed to create a reinterpretation of the Greek gods.

The assignment itself wasn’t the problem. In fact, it actually sounded kind of fun. But your partner? Yeah, that was the real issue.

Fucking Rafe Cameron.

Of all the people in this class, it had to be him.

You didn’t even know why he'd chosen Art in the first place. Rafe was probably the last guy you’d expect to take an art elective—well, right after Kelce Statter.

He'd probably thought it was an easy class to boost his GPA.

Rookie mistake.

Okay, whatever, it was just a small project. You could handle this.

NO, YOU COULDN’T, HOLY SHIT.

The thought of working with Rafe made your skin crawl. In all your years at Kildare Academy, you'd maybe exchanged two words with him—and that was only because he'd mistaken you for another girl.

"Y/n, right?" Rafe appeared at your desk at the end of class, a bored expression on his face.

Okay, okay, just act normal. Be nice.

You nodded. "Yeah."

Rafe stared at you for a moment, probably waiting for you to say more. His eyebrows furrowed slightly before he tilted his head. "Cool, okay. Let’s just meet up during lunch break and get this over with."

Did he seriously think you could finish a two-week project in one lunch break?

When he saw the look on your face, he raised his brows in amusement, his tone teasing. "What? You too busy?"

Your cheeks heated up as you shook your head. "No, lunch sounds good."

"Aight, then let’s meet after fifth period." Before you could ask for a place, he turned around and disappeared out of the classroom.

You frowned. This was off to a great start.

Just two weeks, you reminded yourself as you slung your bag over your shoulder and headed to math class.

On the way, you unlocked your phone to text your bestie Cara:

You shoved your phone away and tried to ignore the uneasiness creeping into your stomach. You didn’t usually have trouble talking to guys but Rafe Cameron was a whole different story. Not because he was "too cool" or some dumb shit like that.

No, Rafe was just... intimidating. Not in that bad-boy, cringe Wattpad kind of way. It was something else, something you couldn’t quite put into words.

He wasn’t arrogant, he was proud. He was loud, but not in the annoying way Kelce Statter was. He wasn’t rude—he just said whatever the hell was on his mind.

He was just ... himself. And yet, somehow he wasn't. It felt like there was a lot more going on beneath the surface.

Maybe that’s what made him so interesting to you. Sure, he had a nice face and a well-known name, no doubt about that. But more than anything, you wanted to understand who he was and get to know him.

Was he just a blunt person who didn’t give a fuck, or was there more to him than his looks and his last name?

So yeah, maybe a part of you was curious about him, but he had such an overwhelming presence, you wouldn’t even know where to start.

In the past, he'd had a few friends-with-benefits situations, but none of them had lasted long. And that was definitely a path you didn't want to go down. Under different circumstances, maybe you could but you've never even held hands with a guy, let alone kissed one or—yeah, no, not going there.

Okay, chill. Internally, you cursed Cara for fueling your delusions.

You had more important problems right now anyway. Like math class with Mrs. Richman. And no one could claim you were a star student in that subject.

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The lesson dragged on, your thoughts constantly drifting. After class, you were supposed to meet Rafe.

Rafe, who had PE right now.

Shit. You tried not to think about a sweaty, heavy-breathing, and—NOPE, NOT NOW.

"Okay, that’s it for today. Don’t forget about the math test next week. But for now, go enjoy the nice weather," Mrs. Richman announced, dismissing the class.

Your hands felt clammy as you got up to leave. What the fuck is wrong with me?

You headed to the restroom and washed your hands, trying to get rid of this horrible feeling in your gut. Why were you so nervous about spending one lunch break with Rafe?

Fuck you, social anxiety.

"Everything okay?" A soft voice pulled you from your thoughts. "You look kinda pale."

You turned to see the pretty face of Molly Crane. Red hair, cute freckles, and a super charming smile. She was one of the few Kooks (if any existed at all) who was genuinely nice.

You forced a smile. "Yeah, yeah, all good. I think I just ate something bad for breakfast."

Molly didn't look convinced. "You sure? You look like you’ve seen a ghost."

"Really, thanks, Molly. I’m fine now." With an awkward smile, you excused yourself and headed out, only to realize that, well… great, you and Rafe had never picked a meeting spot.

Brrrt.

Your phone had been buzzing since math class. Of course, it had been Cara.

You rolled your eyes with a smile and texted back.

Should you really wait in front of the gym? That felt weird af. But at the same time, you didn’t want to miss him and end up having an awkward conversation about it in the next art class.

The dining hall would've been the most obvious spot to meet up, but would Rafe actually look for you there?

You pressed your lips together. Fuck it.

Heart pounding, you headed toward the gym.

Good thing your body totally knew how to distinguish between social interaction and actual danger.

When you arrived, you heard muffled voices of the boys inside, along with Coach Brown’s instructions.

Just breathe, it’s just one lunch break, you told yourself. Then again, this was probably how the next two weeks were going to feel.

You held your breath as the gym doors swung open, and a crowd of sweaty—oops wrong—freshly showered boys streamed out.

You awkwardly stepped to the side, ignoring the curious glances thrown your way.

No sign of Rafe yet. A sick feeling settled in your stomach. Even worse than being here and having to explain HOW you knew that he would be here, would be explaining WHY you were standing here if he didn’t actually have PE right now.

OH GOD OH GOD OH GOD.

But then relief washed over you when you spotted Kelce Statter and Topper Thornton. And right behind them—Rafe Cameron.

You tightened your grip on your bag. Okay, okay, I can do this. They’ll probably say bye to Rafe and leave for lunch now.

They didn’t.

Great.

When Rafe spotted you, something flickered in his gaze that you were too afraid to analyze. You expected him to just walk past you but instead, he headed straight toward you. With Kelce and Topper right behind him…

Just smile. No, not like that, you probably look like a creep. Oh god, okay.

"Yo," Rafe greeted you with a slightly puzzled smile as the three of them stopped in front of you. "Didn't expect you here."

In other words: Did you stalk me or how did you know I was here?

Kelce and Topper eyed you with amusement. This is so unbelievably embarrassing.

With heated cheeks, you pointed at the gym bag slung over his shoulder. "Well, I saw you bringing a sports bag today, and PE is usually scheduled right before lunch ... so I just assumed you’d be here."

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Kelce stifling a laugh. You wanted to disappear from Earth, no from this universe. No way anyone would believe--

"Riight," Rafe replied with a lopsided grin. "I would’ve just waited in the dining hall."

…

So you had been right. And you could've saved yourself this painfully awkward moment :)))

G-r-e-a-t.

"Good thinking though, I guess. The faster we get this shitty project over with, the better."

Shit, did Rafe just compliment you? Then again, why did the last sentence sound like he didn't want to work with you? HAHAHAH WHAT AM I EVEN DOING HERE?

You smiled awkwardly. "Exactly."

"You're Y/n Y/l/n, right? Your mom owns Y/l/n Yacht Sales." Topper’s voice cut in, and you were grateful for the topic change.

You nodded with a polite smile. "Yeah."

Was that admiration on Topper’s face?

"Ohh, a business Mommy, I like that", Kelce said, and both Topper and Rafe eyed him with shaking heads.

Topper blinked at him annoyed. "Bro, shut the fuck up for once."

Kelce just giggled.

"My dad bought a Grady-White from you guys recently," Rafe remarked, and your gaze flicked back to his blue eyes.

Jesus, he wasn’t just looking at you—he was staring into your soul. If he was always looking at girls like that you'd gladly be his friends-with-benefits-girl. GIRL WHAT.

You prayed to whatever gods were listening that you didn’t look like an awkward mess. "I remember. A 456 Canyon."

The corner of Rafe’s mouth twitched up. "Yeah, a beauty."

HELP.

Your cheeks heated up like crazy and with that nervous smile on your face you probably looked like a weird cartoon character. SOMEONE SHOOT ME.

"Oh shit, that sounds like a boat party," Kelce chimed in with a grin and looked at you. "If I were you, I’d have thrown a dooozen parties by now. So many possibilities…"

Rafe scoffed amused. "Shit, good thing she isn’t, or her family would be broke by now."

You chuckled awkwardly. I’m so bad at whatever this is, fucking shit.

„Hey, I’m just saying.“ Kelce raised his hands innocently.

Topper tapped him on the chest with the back of his hand. „Okay, dude, and I’m saying we’re leaving now before you say more stupid shit.“ Then he looked at you apologetically and turned his gaze to Rafe. „See you later.“

Rafe just gave him a short nod, his expression hard to read, before turning back to you with a crooked smile as Kelce and Topper disappeared behind the gym. „So, you hungry?“

Why did this situation suddenly feel so… intimate?

It wasn’t. Definitely not. There was absolutely no reason to feel weird about this. And yet—standing here alone with Rafe Cameron was… a lot. Maybe it was the way he looked at you—calm, focused, as if he was actually paying attention.

Or maybe it was the damn wet strands of hair falling into his forehead after his shower.

Get a grip.

You nodded quickly, trying not to overthink it. „The dining hall has quinoa veggie bowls today. Or fries, if you’re not into influencer food.“

Oh God. Was that your attempt at being funny?

Tragic.

Rafe’s lips twitched with amusement. „So, you’re assuming I don’t like quinoa bowls?“

Oh. Oh no.

Heat immediately rushed to your face, and you could feel your cheeks straight up burning. Why the hell did you say that?

„No—I mean…“ You let out a nervous laugh, which sounded more like a weird cough. „Not that you wouldn’t like it, but you’re just more like—uh, not that I’m putting you in a box or anything, but you don’t seem like someone who…“

Rafe raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. „Someone who eats quinoa?“

You sighed. „Forget it. I’m just talking nonsense.“

„Nah, now I’m curious.“ His voice was amused, almost teasing. „How exactly do I seem?“

You swallowed. Shit.

„Uh…“ Your eyes flickered over him for a second—his broad shoulders, the damp strands of hair falling into his forehead, the fresh polo shirt fitting way too well against his body—oh God, wrong direction.

„I just meant…“ Maybe you should just stop talking and dig your own grave, how about that? You sighed and smiled awkwardly. „Okay, look, I'm sorry if you’re actually a secret quinoa veggie bowl advocate or whatever. I didn’t mean to sound condescending.“

Rafe laughed. Not in a mocking way—no, it was real, boyish, which somehow made it worse because it only made you all the more nervous.

„Nah, shit, I get it,“ he said, shrugging with an amused smile. „Guess I gotta work out more if I’m giving off ‘McDonald’s stan’ vibes.“

Your eyes widened, and you quickly shook your head. „That’s not what—“

„Jesus Christ, relax, I know what you meant.“ He cut you off, tilting his head toward the dining hall. „Now, come on, you can keep judging me in there.“

I am the most embarrassing person alive, you thought, face still burning.

Still, you fell into step beside him, gripping the strap of your bag a little tighter. Brain, could you please shut the hell up? Thanks.

It didn’t.

Because why the fuck did Rafe’s presence feel so overwhelming in the best and worst way possible? And why did his ridiculously good aftershave still linger in the air between you, like some kind of cruel distraction?

And most importantly—how the hell were you supposed to survive two whole weeks of this?

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K M S M A S T E R L I S T | N E X T ->

[worstgenerationloser]

,, Indulgence. ''

Pairings: Ace, Shanks, Beckmann, and Luffy x Reader (separately!)

Summary... nsfw headcanons revolving around the topics of virginity, sex, masturbation...

A/N: This is only part one, might be split into two parts. I also wrote oneshots for each character below, but I burned out too quick, so I stored them away, but they will be posted!

Portgas D. Ace.

Ace is most definitely a virgin, not that he can't get anybody to spend the night with him, considering he's a very handsome young man. He would rather spend his time eating, sleeping, and enjoying his time in Whitebeards crew than having sex, he doesn't see it that way because he has zero clue what sex is, he's fairly educated, and he most definitely has seen a few things by pure accident in various towns, not that he made a big deal out of it, he just scurries away.

He's a virgin, and hardly masturbates, his mind is always preoccupied with other matters. That being said, what turns him on?

Ace doesn't exactly have a type, but if he were to display any sexual interest in anybody, the sense of romance would have to appear first. He's scared of hurting those he loves, so you have to be super strong to ensure that you won't die and leave him with unfulfilled dreams of love. He doesn't care what they identify as, his lover needs to have strength that could crush rookie pirates dreams.

When he masturbates, he likes to be in a dark, quiet place, he is mildly embarrassed at the fact he's touching himself sometimes, so he tries to keep quiet. Without a partner or a crush, he doesn't feel himself wanting more than just five minutes or so with his hand every other month when he feels a little bit pent up. Ace is such a sweet boy, but once he develops romantic feelings for you, he finds himself thinking of you one too many times during those few minutes alone, and eventually his romantic feelings bring wanting and longing for more than simple, sweet love.

Because he's just so sweet, he feels ashamed of his feelings for you at first. He can't stand the way he feels, it's not like he's some some pervert, right? Could he even pursue a relationship with you? He likes to think he's mature, calm, and cool, but on the inside he's still pretty immature.

If he's gonna lose his virginity, it's gonna be a while after you two start dating, he isn't with you for sex, that's for sure. Again, sex is the least of his worries, so you would have to approach the topic yourself, because, trust me, it's gonna save you a lot of time and suffering from waiting for him to make a move. He's a proper gentleman with you no matter what, and he makes up for his inexperience with his eagerness to please.

His losing his virginity is something he would have never imagined. So, who knew he would like you touching his body so much? Seriously, he finds out way too quickly that there's no way he could have achieved such a pleasure all by himself. The most physical contact he gets from others nowadays is a pat on the back from the other commanders, maybe a handshake or two, and other than that, it's just him being punched upon various other things.

To lose his virginity and indulge himself in fine dining (you) , he embodies his mature side, and decides to have a discussion with you.

Red-Haired Shanks.

Shanks? A virgin? He lost his virginity a long time ago, and that's probably why he's so confident. I don't think he has a single insecure bone left in his body by the time he's 20. He doesn't need one, anyways, the boy inherited Dark King Rayleigh's charms as if he were his son, and sometimes it's super annoying. He isn't a complete fuckboy, but he definitely got around a lot when he was a young man, but after ten years of constant hookups, be it women, men, or anybody not on the spectrum, he made the decision to settle down... Mostly because one of his old flings had a small pregnancy scare and he was horrified.

Shanks is pretty experienced, to put it simply, he knows how to put his charms to good use, how to get anybody to drop their pants after a nice long flirting session, or, if they aren't the type for casual hookups, after a sweet date.

That being said, he prefers having intercourse over masturbation, actually, I do not believe he has used his own hand to please himself in... Many years. But, as previously mentioned, even a man like him manages to settle down. Shanks, like Ace, would only manage with a lover who would be strong enough to impress his crew, that being said, if you want him to genuinely love you for anything besides your body, you have to play hard to get. (Was that term used correctly? It's 2 am)

He is a natural flirt, so charismatic it's scary. So when you reject his advances, he is very taken aback, and it fuels his sexual fantasies. He would burn through many of women, trying to get rid of this pure sexual frustration he feels every second you're near, and for a moment he was considering begging you to atleast let him see your naked body. But, after a month or two, he lays in bed, staring up at the ceiling, the smell of someone's body spray melted into his red hair, and he feels something other than lust for you. Actually, he was sure it was always there, but maybe he was too foolish to notice or see it.

Cue him asking you out, being absolutely overjoyed when he gets to call you his, wedding bells ringing in his head. (Though he is a pirate, and cannot have his marriage recognized legally)

You shortly realize he is more terribly perverse than he let on.

Shameless groping, dirty whispers, excessive nudity (though, if it was shanks, I'm sure nobody would mind👀) and lots and loootsss of advances. He is obviously willing to stop if you dislike such things, though.

Shanks never really saw himself loving someone outside of sex, but now that he is alive and loving, he just can't stop. But, of course, the pervert is itching to screw you, though he isn't purely thinking of sex, the thought pops up constantly and it makes the palm of his hand itch. He wants your first time to be special, but the longer he waits, the more he wants it, the more he dreams of it, the more he just can't help but stare at you when you straighten your back, following the curve of your spine down to your... He is very obviously staring.

During intercourse, Shanks prefers to top, but he's not a stone top by any means, he likes to switch maybe once a month, his all time favorite position? Prone bone. Watching you lay in bed on your stomach has him drooling, and he might as well be rabid because he absolutely will be plotting, asking you to stay that way while he straddles you, offering a seemingly innocent back massage... It was, in fact, not.

Benn Beckmann

Benn Beckmann is the man women and men alike dream about. He isn't a virgin, that's for sure.

I mean... He's an older man, he has quite a bit of experience, and I think, contrary to popular belief, he chases women a lot more than his captain. Beck is more often than not chatting up a pretty lady anytime the red-haired pirates dock at an island, a whole crew of whores, they are. I wouldn't be surprised if a few of the crew have screwed the same person before... Beck has a story about that involving Shanks and somebody else, and it may or may not have ended in a threesome, but that's simply what the rumors say.

He is one of the red-haired pirates, and he isn't completely devoid of sentiment or some oddly nonchalant guy, he has feelings, wants, and needs too, his mental health wouldn't keep up on the crew of partygoers if he was so uptight. Beck doesn't like to lust over people unless they show the same type of interest in him; don't get me wrong because he does find people attractive and he is not at all feeling guilty for eyeing a pretty piece of eye candy or even whistling at someone every once in a while, he doesn't want to imagine screwing every good looking person he sees is all.

He is a big man, he looks like he could snap somebody in half with a singular flex of his bicep, not to mention he's the first mate of an emperor of the sea; Beck is just as strong as Shanks, and as the red-haired pirates gain power and fame, he finds himself a little more pent up, though people flock to him so he doesn't complain much. Who doesn't want a man like him in their bed, anyways?

Though, he does please himself from time to time, of course. He opens the drawer of his desk full of magazines, takes his pick and gets straight to work, ensuring the door is locked. He's getting straight to the point, dropping his pants down to his ankles whilst leaning back in the chair he's in, closing his eyes to take in the moment. It isn't too frequent, and it's not a big deal if he can't find some time to himself, he knows somebody else will always make time for him, anyways.

Beck has a high libido, and has taken a liking to pretty ladies in particular, but that doesn't mean his taste involves one gender exclusively, of course, he's happy to take somebody to bed if they look good enough. Concerning romantic relationships, he doesn't really see any of that happening, his life is full of freedom and adventure, he's merely tied down to his crew and he prefers to keep it that way.

But... if he just so happened to develop romantic feelings for you, it would happen one of three ways. Maybe you two had a bit of a friends with benefits relationship, you being one of the red-haired pirates making it easier for you two to meet up for nightly trysts; Or maybe you happened to be a friend of Shanks, perhaps during his time on Rogers crew, maybe you were rivals, or maybe just plain old friends, a friend of his captains is a friend of his. Maybe he's fucking you nearly every day and night, and his feelings got a little out of hand one somewhere along the way... Either way, it was pretty easy for lust to turn into love and infatuation.

Beck was wary of welcoming you into his heart, but he did so, and he rushed over you like a heavy flood. He isn't acting like he was in heat, like his captain would with his significant other, he prefers to love you quietly, but of course his hand would slip lower down your back every once in a while and completely dwarf your ass as he groped you, holding his cigarette in his teeth as he exhaled the smoke from his mouth. He's definitely an ass man.

When it comes to thinking of having sex with you, he's a little nervous. He's respectful to all his hookups, and he is very confident in that aspect but he is absolutely ginormous and he doesn't wanna split you in two in the literal sense. It will hurt for sure, he knows that, you're gonna whine and cry out all night long, he knows that too, but he wants you, and he knows you want him, as your lover, he begins to discuss it with you as casually as he can, his voice smooth and maybe a little rough during the entire ordeal.

He makes his move after a sweet date, loving on you all night and kissing you all the way back to his bedroom, mostly because he hadn't taken anybody there before, and he wanted your first time with him to be special.

Monkey D. Luffy.

Luffy could not care less about nudity, and he cares even less about sex. In Alabasta, the only reason he even reacted to Nami flashing him was because Usopp was there, and Luffy really didn't mind seeing Hancock's naked body.

He has never considered jerking off a day in his life, nudity is just a part of life for him, you got your pants off? That's cool. Just for the fun of it, he's nude. Tits out? His are already out most of the time so it's no big deal. (You can tell I'm having fun with this.)

He's not sure he could fall in love, all he desires is freedom. His lover doesn't need strength, as long as they're kind and they share the same moral code as him, he's overjoyed! He probably will convince them to join his crew, despite being clueless on sex, he has a... Slight understanding of romance, he thinks.

After falling in love with you and feeling various different things with you, he very quickly realizes that he feels a different kind of heat in his body that isn't his rapidly beating heart or his stomach fluttering, which, could also be his stomach growling, but that's besides the point. He's clueless, when Dadan tried to give Ace, Sabo, and him "the talk" he was so grossed out he ran off, leaving Ace in the dust. So, all he knew was that he had a dick, and literally nothing else, so if you're afab, you have to explain stuff to him. When Luffy feels that heat creep into his skin, coursing through his veins, it all rushes to one place.

His shorts feel tight, to the point it's painful, and it's even worse when his eyes land on you. His stomach aches, well, he thinks it does, it feels weird, and that's all he knows. He actually ends up talking to Sanji, the expert in erotica... Or so he says. Now, he's got a pretty good grasp on his sexuality, and he wants to try having sex with you. He doesn't sugarcoat it, doesn't really plan something intricate, he'll walk up to you while you're doing whatever, and he's gonna blurt it out in that same casual tone he has when he says "I'm hungry" , and he might just embarrass you infront of his crew.

"Wanna have sex?" Oh boy, do you.

END.

likes and reblogs are very much appreciated! ❤️

[shouts-into-the-void]

Montresor caring about Will didn't come out of nowhere, Lenore was just mad: a biased completely unbiased post

The thing we need to remember as a rule is that Montresor's default personality is rude and antagonistic even when he's not actively trying to be an aggressor, which means you have to look at what he means rather than necessarily the things he says. He's a clear victim of abuse, who reacts to feelings trapped, cornered, threatened, panicked, or humiliated by lashing out. From what I have gathered, it seems like his mother may have been the type of person who was nice one minute, then became abusive at the drop of a hat, and/or acted loving while claiming she "had to do this for his own good", and he was clearly raised in a very strict religious environment where he didnt have a lot of control/was punished for things he couldnt help. As a reaction, Montresor tries to force an aggressive response out of anyone he feels threatened by, because at least then it's predictable and he feels in control. Okay, great, Montresor analysis out of the way, moving on.

Our first real look at Will and Montresor as a unit is when the clusterfucks (side note: I've seen a lot of people calling them the acoleets now? Far less funny, absolutely not) are discussing their spectres. During this conversation, Montresor is actually hyping Will up, and even when he agrees with Ada that is sounds useless, he makes sure to assure him that it "looks really cool though."

We only really see Montresor become outright violent and dangerous once it's revealed that only one person can win a new life. We see him actively panic about it, and while we don't really get a lot more context for him yelling at Will in the moment, I think its relevant that this is the moment when he starts treating Will less nicely, because now it's a competition and everyone else is potentially out to get him. Hell, he even immediately begins joking around with Will after telling him to shut up, so it's clear that he's acting out of stress and fear immediately after the revelation.

The interaction that immediately follows this is the incident with Morella and Ada, and I find it notable that Montresor goes out of his way to include Will. (when he makes sure to let you get your turn humiliating a woman to prove her loyalty to the group #romantic 🤡)

Later, during the Spectre vs. Students lesson, when Berenice bites Will and he asks for help, Montresor immediately tells her to leave him alone. While he seems mildly annoyed with Will the whole time (kind of understandably, because Will keeps screwing up the plan) he only says anything particularly horrible after Berenice slashes him across the face with her knife, which clearly pisses him off in general. We see him letting Will nap on his shoulder afterwards, which isn't super important I just think it's cute.

Montresor clearly sees them as a unit, as he still involved Will with the plan despite Will messing up the previous night with Duke and stops Will from helping Annabel with Ada despite not having a real reason to do so by saying "We'll sit this one out." Like it should have gone without saying that if he's not doing it, Will isn't either. Then the next day, the fact that Montresor comes to get Will specifically so they can walk to breakfast together? Knows what his toothbrush looks like and goes out of his way to give it back? The little flick on the forehead when he calls him a churchmouse? That he picks up on Will's distress and immediately goes to collect Ada to save him? I see you, fake-ass idgafer.

Which brings me to my next point, which is that it is Lenore on her enraged, vengeful tirade who claims that Montresor hates Will. She claims it's due to his behavior towards Will when he came to get him, but I think its pretty clear she only says it to upset Will. And Will can't think of anything nice Montresor's ever done for him because he's stressed, thinks he's about to get shot, and his self-confidence is super low. He even addresses the fact later that Montresor goes out of his way to save him all the time.

I also think now is a good time to point out that Montresor only seems to physically hurt Will in any significant way when he's been having a flashback. His expression when he comes out of his death flashback to find himself attacking Will is shocked, and while he doesn't apologize, his response does come across as apologetic. He has a similar expression when he wakes up from Ada's vision choking Will, only he looks incredibly panicked that time because he'd done actual damage. The expression on his face when Lenore points out what he's done is pained. I think this runs back to Montresor telling Will not to touch him, I'm pretty sure part of his trauma revolves around physical touch and when he's having an episode of PTSD/not fully aware of his surroundings he lashes out instinctively at the person touching him, which unfortunately means Will, who is a very physically affectionate person (man has 13 siblings and it shows.) Which is unfortunate, because I think Montresor also seems to be a very tactile person, and he actually goes out of his way to be touching Will a lot.

Another interesting thing? Montresor only ever addresses Will by name, which is very significant with context. The nicknames Montresor gives people are meant to mock them, so by only using Will's name it subtlely signals that he holds him in higher respect (or at least in more genuine regard) than the others. In Will's flashback, Sally–someone who went to school with him and was in all the same classes–doesn't remember his name, only that he's one of many Wilson siblings. So for Montresor, who can't even remember his "ace in the hole" and current fling's name, to be constantly making it a point to say he knows who Will is, is a great indicator of his actual feelings. By contrast, Will calls Montresor "Monty" exclusively, the only nickname he receives that is genuinely affectionate and something he never attempts to make him stop calling him.

Which pretty much brings us back to the events of the current episodes, which I've already talked about the significance of in another post. I know this is probably insanely biased for multiple reasons and im sure theres a bunch of little tidbits I've forgotten , but do with it what you will.

[archive-professional-jaywalker]

Mildly annoyed at the trend of people... Forgetting that many of the strong experiences one can feel about alterhumanity are historically very very common in otherkin and therianthrope? This is not... Beef toward anyone, in fact this popped up bc I checked in on a non anglophone alt-h server, but god. Like speed round. As a note this is gonna be more therian linguo heavy just bc I'm very tired, a therianthrope, and mostly was in therian spaces so it's what I default to but a lot of those are applicable to otherkin n fictionkin.

"can phantom shifts feel like physically shapeshifting"

-> yeah this was an experience talked about not uncommonly on forums. A lot of therianthropes expressed the feeling of "a pelt under your skin begging to breach out" or feeling limbs push out against their skin as the phantom shift took place. Sure a lot of people also feel very mild phantom shifts. Both exist. But this experience is in fact a phantom shift experience. We called ourselves "weres" for a reason. Seems more common in people who distinctly see themselves as werecreatures, but this is not abnormal for a phantom shift, although preferably you should do a doctor check if you feel pain (also an experience ppl talked about, but it's not usually thought of as "normal" just bc. Well that's kinda bad and may hide an injury or whatever so it's better to check mundane reasons first. But painful shifts seem to exist you should just be very very certain nothing else could be causing it).

"I can't turn off being an animal / I can't stop my instincts at inconvenient times / I don't feel suited for human society"

-> this one always surprises me when it's presented as bizarre for otherkin/therians. That was like... A baseline therian experience. Yeah no a lot of us can't either. Usually the difference is that this feeling is at an all time high when in situations where you are constantly pressured to "human" correctly, socialize and have no breaks to wild it out, which corresponds a lot to The Entire Duration Of School and is therefore a more common complaint amongst teenagers than adults. It gets a bit easier as an adult sometimes if you're lucky to have opportunities that let you manage your life around instincts and such, although sometimes, well, you gotta play by societies rules to survive n it stays hard. Also a commonly reported experience. You do learn! But some people are better at hiding instincts than other, some instincts are easier to hide than other, etc.

"I have shifts I cannot control under very intense emotions"

-> "Berserker shift" is a controversial term due to a variety of reasons that span the usual "that's too weird, don't talk about that", the fact you're still responsible for what you do while shifty, or just bc it sounds kinda... Edgy, from a first glance, but it IS a term from our history and a lot of people do report the experience of going fully animalistic if freaked out enough. Sometimes alongside extremely strong phantom shifts as described in the first point! I've heard of people who had complete verbal shutdown and could neither speak nor understand speech, could not walk on two legs, reacted with growling spitting and biting, just the whole thing. I think this experience is a bit harder to find mostly because it's... Very vulnerable, usually. It tends to require less than pleasant conditions, and tends to be very vilified, so not talked about much, but very much something that is recorded.

Transhumanism, species transition and body mods overall

-> I'm not gonna talk much about this one bc I've said a lot in other posts, but there's a reason trans species and therianthropy are super intertwined and it's... Because a lot of therianthropes did historically attempt to transition or at least modify their body and surroundings to their best capacities. The idea that therianthropes, as a rule, mostly do not attempt to modify their bodies seems to me very incorrect.

"I feel a strong, almost supernatural drive toward nature / I feel in my bones I am nonhuman / I believed I could physically shift during most of my life under the right conditions"

-> This one is going to be a bit hard for me. As a result of having psychosis, I have kind of a mental block over thinking too much about it in regards to myself. It's also I think A Major way ppl seem to be confirming physical nonhumanity, so like, you do you, I'm not Telling you anything about yourself. However I do want to note that these feelings aren't particularly rare amongst nonhumans overall. A reason why so many therianthropes got in toxic groups that promised being able to go back to one's true form was... Because a lot of us are deeply convinced in some way or another that if things align juuuuust right maybe just maybe we'll have our bodies again. It's not hard to. Understand why an entire community defined by being in the wrong body would have this trait. A lot of us felt a strong drive toward nature, a feeling of being displaced amongst humans, a lot of us attempted to physically shift.

"I wish I could have my species's offsprings / I feel dysphoria over my sexual functions / I have sexual drives that align with being weird fetishes in a human society"

-> this one is more getting erased due to puritanism I think but yeah no for a lot of nonhumans it. Does not stop magically under the belt. And it's not a problem unless any theriform animal is involved. Yes even if it's kinda nasty to think about. I will however note for the first point "no theriform animal is involved" kinda still goes, please do not adopt animals, especially exotic animals, under the impression that you can parent them as a theriform animal could? It CAN be possible to raise a theriform animal in a way that would satisfy parental instincts if you're trained for it, but we're not special. We got raised by humans, we don't magically understand our species better than people trained for it. Very imprinted animals commonly make poor parents.

"I remember my past life / I communicate with my animal self spiritually / other spiritual experiences"

-> this one is such a surprise to me to see so uncommon now. Spirituality used to be a cornerstone of otherkin and therian spaces and it's kinda wild to me to see it's so rare now. So yeah no that's very much a thing. I don't think I've seen someone soul search for their "true name" in ages, when that was everywhere on old spirituality inclined forums. I can't speak much on this bc I am not a spiritual therianthrope + point about psychosis made before but I've seen parallel lives, I've seen past lives, I've seen future lives, I've seen misplaced souls, I've seen having a chat with your theriotype as a representation of your soul... Awakening seemed to have a meaning of the... Spiritual event of your soul kinda ripping to reveal your inner self for a while, a singular event in which you start remembering. Was very common on an old french forum over here. Not sure if that was as common in English ones. A lot of people's nonhumanity was not as based on shifts and instincts as on uncovering that hidden self through spiritual means, memories, and such.

Weird Shit Happens Around Me ("I can't digest things a human should digest in accordance to my species, ppl have noted my nonhuman traits as if they could see my invisible limbs, animals react weird to me, etc")

-> noooooted in the past but I think these have always been subject to doubt to be fair. Like you can find records of stuff like that quite easily, but also its very hard to prove in any way, shape or form. So that's a reason it's not in the basics of nonhumanity. But yeah historically a lot of otherkin/therianthropes have claimed Weird Shit Happens. Not rly my case so can't speak on it.

And I think I've mentioned what I had in my brain but this is just to remind ppl like... The therianthrope who wears a mask for fun and is only mildly inconvenienced by their animality is not really a representation of the community historically. Weve always been pretty fucking intense and pretty fucking weird. Chances are, if you are experiencing a very weird thing, it's not particularly a disqualifier of therianthropy or otherkin historically. Not that people might not give you shit about it! Pretty much all the points here, while not uncommon reported experiences, ARE in fact also things I've seen ppl be antagonistic about in the community. Which to be clear is stupid. But yeah it doesn't mean you're wrong, it means they don't realize the extent of our experiences.

[nephynes]

tension theory/friction principle bonus chapter 2

set right after the events of friction principle

Jake's pacing again. Back and forth across Heeseung's living room, socked feet on hardwood, hands slicing the air as he pleads his case for the third time in ten minutes. "I'm telling you, bro, it'll be fun. Beach. Booze. You, me, Sunghoon, Y/N—and Chaewon. You haven't met her yet, but she's cool. Funny. Smart. Kinda your type, actually."

Heeseung doesn't look up from the couch, arm draped over his eyes. "My type is women who don't try to sleep with other guys while I'm in the next room, remember?"

Jake winces. "Okay, yeah, that was...rough. But this is a clean slate. Fresh air, a whole new country. Would you be more convinced if I told you Chaewon was hot?"

Heeseung shifts, finally lifting his arm and narrowing his eyes at Jake. "Does your girlfriend know you're out here calling her friend hot?"

Jake pauses for a beat—just long enough to look mildly offended. "She told me to tell you that!"

Heeseung snorts despite himself.

"She said, and I quote, 'Tell Hee that Chaewon is super hot and really sweet and might help him stop being a mopey little bitch.' Her words, not mine."

Heeseung finally sits up, rubbing his face. "You're unbelievable."

"But are you coming?"

Heeseung doesn't answer right away. Jake stands still, watching him closely, then adds quieter, "You deserve a break. From all of it."

There's a pause. Then Heeseung exhales slowly. "Fine. But if this girl's weird or annoying, I'm blaming you."

Jake grins, victorious. "Deal. And hey—she's nothing like Yunjin. I swear."

Heeseung doesn't really know what he expected, stepping off the plane. Not much. Just some sun, maybe some sleep, and a temporary reprieve from the mess he left back home. Jake had pitched it hard—new country, fresh air—but Heeseung's not naive enough to believe in quick fixes anymore.

Still, the ocean air is cleaner than the thoughts that usually haunt him, and your bright smile when you spot him in the villa entryway? He hates how much it helps.

"Hee!" you call, jogging over in a linen dress, wearing sandals already. You look stupidly happy. Carefree. And for once, that doesn't annoy him, not that he really did before. But if Yunjin was annoyed with you then so was he back then?.

You grab his wrist and tug him through the airy room, chattering about bedroom assignments and welcome drinks, and then, too casually, you say, "Chaewon! Come meet Heeseung!"

The girl perched on the edge of the sofa straightens as they approach. She's dressed simple—denim shorts, a white tank top, sunglasses perched in her hair, but there's an ease to her posture, a warmth in her smile that immediately puts him off balance.

"Hi," she says, holding out a hand. "I've heard a lot about you." Heeseung glances at you, suspicious, but you’re already pretending to be preoccupied with the fruit platter. "Hopefully good things," he mutters, shaking her hand.

You shoot him a very obvious thumbs up over her shoulder before disappearing up the stairs with a grin.

Of course.

Heeseung clears his throat and drops onto the armchair beside her. "So...Chaewon, right?"

She nods, biting back a smile.

"I'm guessing Jake threatened you into coming on this trip?"

"Actually," she says, tilting her head, "Y/N bribed me with promises of beach sunset photos, bottomless sangria, and the chance to see you shirtless."

He chokes. Literally.

She laughs and reaches for a slice of melon. "Relax, I'm joking."

He coughs once more for good measure, dragging a hand over his face. "God, you're worse than her."

"Not really," Chaewon says. "I think Sunghoon and Jake bring out a whole different side to her you haven’t even seen."

And somehow, from there, the conversation just works. They talk about everything and nothing. Favorite music, the last book she gave up on, the dumbest argument she's ever had with her brother. She doesn't bring up Yunjin, even though he’s sure she knows about what happened by now. She doesn't tiptoe around him like he's fragile. And when she laughs, it's always with him, never at him.

It's strange.

Heeseung came here with his guard up. He didn't expect to enjoy himself, didn't think he had it in him anymore. But sitting beside this stranger with the soft voice and sharp wit, he starts to think maybe Jake was right. Maybe this trip isn't just a distraction and if he lets it, it could actually be something new.

The fire crackles in front of them, smoke drifting up into the ink-dark sky. Waves crash steadily in the distance, a constant hush beneath the chatter and laughter. The sand is cool under his feet, and there's a cold beer sweating in his hand, half-forgotten because Chaewon just said something that made him laugh so hard his abs hurt.

She's leaned in close, whispering some dumb inside joke they've crafted over the past forty-eight hours, and he can't stop smiling. It's been like this the whole trip—light, easy, better than anything he expected. He glances around the circle of beach chairs and towels, stomach warm from more than the alcohol.

Sunghoon's poking at the fire with a stick, his expression relaxed. You're curled up in Jake's lap nearby, his arms around you and your cheeks flushed from laughing too hard. You catch Heeseung's eye across the flames and beam at him. Jake leans in and says something that makes you both snort, and Heeseung knows that look—you're plotting and sure enough, Jake perks up. "Let's play something."

Sunghoon groans immediately. "Really? We're twenty-two."

You twist around in Jake's arms and grin. "So? Might be fun. We'll keep it chill."

Jake raises his beer. "Drinking game? Truth or dare?”

"God," Heeseung mutters, but he's smiling. He'd complain, but the way Chaewon's eyes sparkle under the firelight when she says "Oooh, I'm in" has him nodding before he can think better of it.

You sit up straighter and point directly at him. "Heeseung. Truth or dare?"

He raises an eyebrow, feigning hesitation.

"Don't be boring," Jake calls from behind you.

Heeseung takes a slow sip of his beer, then shrugs. "Truth."

You lean forward, eyes gleaming. "Do you miss her?" you ask, softer this time.

And everyone goes quiet.

Chaewon glances at him, just barely, but she doesn't move away. Doesn't flinch. Just waits with the rest. Heeseung could lie. Say he doesn't or that he's over it.

But the words stick in his throat, heavy and dry. He looks at you with your knowing expression, the way Jake tightens his arms around your waist, and something about the quiet between everyone makes him answer honestly. "I think I miss who I thought she was," he says. "But I don't miss how I felt with her. Not anymore."

You nod slowly and Chaewon nudges his knee with hers. "Your turn."

He looks at her, really looks, and the tension unwinds in his chest. He's not dreading going back because of what happened.  He's dreading it because this peace, this laughter and warmth feels dangerously close to something he never thought he'd get again.

The circle loosens with his answer, everyone easing back into the comfort of the firelight and their drinks.

He turns toward Sunghoon, who's lounging back on a chair, sipping something strong out of a plastic cup.

"Alright, Sunghoon," Heeseung says, eyes narrowing playfully. "Truth or dare?"

Sunghoon sighs, but there's a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips. "Truth."

Heeseung doesn't miss a beat. "When it's the three of you..." He raises his eyebrows meaningfully. "Who do you like starting with? Jake or Y/N?"

You sit up straighter, eyes going wide. "Heeseung!"

Sunghoon just blinks slowly, like he's thinking about it. You can tell he's tipsy, his gaze a little hazy, but still calculating. Then he smiles. "Y/n," he says, looking at you through the fire. "It's fun watching her get all worked up from just a little touch. She’s so easy to unravel."

You let out a soft, stunned laugh, covering your mouth. Jake groans behind you, tossing his head back dramatically. "Oh my god, Hoon."

Sunghoon's grin widens, taking another sip. "It's true. She melts. It's cute."

You give Jake a look over your shoulder, and he grins back at you, whispering something against your temple that makes you squirm in his lap. And from the way his fingers are already creeping along your waist and Sunghoon's looking far too pleased with himself, Heeseung thinks he’s way more interested in this game now.

Sunghoon takes another sip of his drink, eyes glinting with mischief in the firelight. "My turn," he hums, scanning the circle before zeroing in on Chaewon. "You." She stiffens slightly, eyebrows raising as she narrows her eyes. "Me?"

"Truth or dare?"

Chaewon, to her credit, doesn't flinch. She lifts her chin. "Dare."

Sunghoon's grin spreads slow and sharp—more amused than cruel, but clearly dangerous in that 'older brother who stirs the pot just because he can' kind of way. "I dare you," he says, dragging the words out, "to sit in Heeseung's lap for the next round. Until it's your turn again."

Heeseung blinks, caught off guard. "Wait, what—"

"You heard me," Sunghoon shrugs. "I'm just trying to join my boyfriend and girlfriend in their little cupid scheme."

You let out a bark of laughter, covering your mouth. Jake smiles, clearly loving this way too much.

Chaewon turns to Heeseung, and he's suddenly far too still, barely managing to lift his palms like I didn't plan this, I swear.

She pauses for dramatic effect then shrugs once and gets up on her knees, stepping toward him. "I've had worse dares," she says breezily.

And then she's settling herself delicately in his lap, adjusting her weight until she's comfortable, her legs folded neatly across his. Heeseung swallows hard, eyes darting to yours like help. He’s trying desperately not to look at where Chaewon's thigh is pressed flush against his. Her hair brushes his jaw when she turns toward the circle again, totally casual.

"Okay," she says coolly, lifting her drink. "Let's keep it moving."

And for a second, Heeseung looks like he might die, but then she leans back just slightly, her shoulder against his chest, and he exhales.

"My turn," she says, and her gaze cuts straight to you. You raise your brows, already bracing yourself. "Oh no."

She tilts her head innocently. "Truth or dare?"

You hum in thought, swirling the drink in your cup before settling back against Jake's chest. "Truth."

Chaewon's smile widens, she'd clearly hoped for that answer. "Alright," she says, voice light, but her eyes are gleaming with mischief. "Whose dick is bigger—Jake's or Sunghoon's?"

You just gape at her, somewhere between scandalized and impressed. "Oh my god," you wheeze, covering your face for a second before peeking at her through your fingers. "Do you want to see for yourself?"

She gasps in fake offense, then starts laughing all over again. Jake wraps his arms a little tighter around your waist, murmuring, "Answer carefully."

Sunghoon leans forward with a mock-serious expression. "There’s no wrong answer if she’s offering."

You roll your eyes, dramatic and exaggerated. "You guys," you sigh, grinning as you take another sip. "They're basically the same."

"Oh come on," Chaewon protests. "That's such a cop-out."

"No, I'm serious," you insist, nodding solemnly. "They’ve measured."

Jake groans, burying his face in your shoulder, while Sunghoon just grins, shaking his head like he can't even be mad.

It’s your turn now. You shift a little in Jake's lap, turning just enough to face him, a lazy smile curling your lips. His hands tighten around your waist automatically, eyes narrowing like he knows what's coming.

"Truth or dare, Jaeyun?"

He eyes you warily. "Truth."

Heeseung groans. "Oh my god, can someone pick dare?"

You ignore him. Your gaze is locked on Jake, voice syrupy sweet. "Do you prefer me more dominant or submissive?"

Jake immediately sputters, half-coughing into his drink, ears turning a soft pink. "What—" He clears his throat, eyes flickering to Sunghoon who's just watching him with raised brows, unhelpfully amused. "You're really doing this in public?"

You just tilt your head, smile widening. “This is barely public baby.”

Jake drags a hand over his face, but his answer is honest. "Dominant," he admits, low and a little hoarse. "You know that."

"Good boy," you murmur and he groans but now it's his turn. He peeks up and his eyes flick toward Chaewon—still in Heeseung's lap like she belongs there, comfortably sipping her drink, grinning.

"You," Jake says, pointing. "Truth or dare?"

Chaewon raises both brows. "Truth."

He nods like he expected it. "Have you ever kissed a girl?"

"Yes," she replies, no hesitation. "More than once."

You and Jake share a quick, impressed glance, but before Jake can follow up, Sunghoon cuts in, a smug look on his face. "Ever thought about kissing her?" he asks, jerking his chin toward you.

The fire crackles, but it feels too quiet now. Chaewon's still smiling, but it's changed, still sly and amused. She looks you up and down slowly before her gaze settles on your face. "Who hasn't?" she says simply.

You blink and then burst out laughing, cheeks warm. "I'm flattered, really."

Chaewon leans forward again, still in Heeseung's lap like she's completely forgotten she has her own chair and her turn has come again now.

"Sunghoon," she asks, "truth or dare?"

He doesn't even hesitate. "Dare."

She smiles. "Three-way kiss. You, Jake, and her." She looks towards you. Jake laughs, setting his drink down. "You make it sound like that's hard for him."

You smile at Sunghoon already rising from his seat, languid and confident. Jake shifts forward and you both meet him halfway, leaning in. It starts with Sunghoon kissing you, slow and teasing, then Jake's lips press to yours just as Sunghoon kisses him too—seamless, practiced, because this isn't the first time and won't be the last.

Now it's Sunghoon’s turn again. He looks around deliberately before pointing at Chaewon. "Truth or dare."

She tilts her head in mock thought. "Dare."

His smile curves up, all slow wickedness. "Okay then," he drawls, "I dare you to kiss my girlfriend."

Jake hums lowly behind you, and you glance over your shoulder, brows raised, but you're smiling too. Chaewon looks at you, not at all flustered, just intrigued. "Is this you giving me permission or are you trying to test something?" she teases, but she's already standing.

Sunghoon shrugs, leaning back. "Does it matter?"

Chaewon moves toward you slowly, one brow raised like she's giving you a moment to say no. But you don't, in fact you meet her halfway.

Her lips are soft, more playful than anything, and when she pulls back, you're both laughing a little, breathless from the sheer absurdity of it all, from the thrill. You're breathless too, blinking at her before both of you burst into giggles like you can't believe what just happened.

But the second you turn and settle back into Jake's lap, you feel it. Jake’s hardened cock, pressing up under you. He exhales shakily, his fingers tightening on your waist.

Chaewon clearly feels the same thing, because she freezes slightly in Heeseung's lap, then lets out a small surprised noise—more amused than shocked. Heeseung shifts beneath her, trying to play it off, but his ears are red.

Sunghoon notices it all and he groans, tilting his head back toward the stars like he's suffering. "Okay, not to kill the vibe, but are Heeseung and Chaewon gonna kiss already, or are we gonna keep playing this middle school game until someone has to dare them?"

Jake chokes out a laugh behind you. Sunghoon waves a hand lazily toward them. "Heeseung's boner is probably suffocating by now."

You giggle uncontrollably, half turning to look at them. Chaewon raises a brow, amused, while Heeseung mutters something under his breath and tips his beer bottle to his lips like it might save him from the situation.

Sunghoon sighs again, dramatically, like he's shouldering the burden of everyone's pent-up tension. "This game is doing too much and not enough at the same time."

The game fizzles out not long after. Everyone's a little too buzzed, too tangled up in the energy pulsing beneath the surface. Bottles are half-empty in the sand, and laughter fades into background noise as the fire crackles lazily. Sunghoon gets up with a stretch and a groan. "I'm gonna head in," he says, brushing sand off his hands.

"No one asked you to leave," Jake calls after him, but Sunghoon's already trudging toward the beach house, mumbling about how no one ever appreciates his sacrifices.

Chaewon shifts in Heeseung's lap, the light painting her in amber. She leans closer to him, her fingers brushing his jaw and he doesn't flinch, doesn't overthink it. His hand moves to her waist, tentative at first, then firm, like he's finally stopped resisting.

And then they're kissing, quietly, intimately. No show, no dare, no commentary. Just them, lost in their own moment.

You and Jake sit back in the beach chair, watching like creeps. "Should we be watching this?" you whisper, eyebrows raised but voice too entertained to be serious.

Jake doesn't look away. "I mean...it's kind of cute."

You lean your head on his shoulder, both of you quiet now, observing from the flickering glow of the fire as Heeseung and Chaewon melt into each other. There's something sweet about it. Gentle.

Jake kisses your temple. "Think this means we'll get invited to their wedding?" He asks you as he helps you stand up. You giggle, squeezing his hand. "Only if you don't scare her off first." You tell him as he guides you off the sand.

You're standing in front of the bathroom mirror, fresh from the shower, robe warm around your shoulders, dabbing serum into your cheeks when you hear it.

A muffled whimper. Faint and distant. You freeze, fingers paused mid-pat.

Then another, louder this time. You blink at your reflection, brows drawn together. Was that...?

"Hey," Jake hisses as he swings the bathroom door open without knocking, eyes wild with mischief. "You hear that?"

You turn, wide-eyed. "Wait, you heard it too?"

Jake nods like a cartoon villain mid-scheme. "You think what I'm thinking?"

You squint. "Could it be them?"

He doesn't even answer. Just grabs your hand and pulls you with him like you're both on a covert spy mission. You're tiptoeing through the villa, trying not to laugh as you both make your way down the hallway, past the kitchen, and toward the bedrooms. The moans are louder now—unmistakable, breathy, high-pitched.

Chaewon.

You slap a hand over your mouth as Jake quietly loses his mind next to you, the two of you grinning like idiots. Her voice, breathless and needy, "God, right there—don't stop—don't stop—"

You slap your hand over your mouth again, nearly snorting with shock.

Then Heeseung responds, his voice low and hoarse, "You're so fucking tight—fuck—you feel insane."

You nearly choke on your laughter, burying your face in Jake's hoodie while he squeezes your hand in absolute glee. It's obscene, filthy, and you're both entirely too happy about it. "She's louder than I expected," Jake whispers.

You giggle. "Heeseung's filthier than I expected."

You're both crouched near the cracked door now, barely breathing from how hard you're trying not to laugh—when suddenly a voice appears behind you, low and cool, "You two get off on this or something?"

You both jump like you've been electrocuted.

Jake spins around. You nearly stumble back.

Sunghoon stands behind you, wearing low-slung sweats and a damp tank, brow arched, hair still wet from a recent shower. You blink up at him, guilt written all over your face.

"We weren't—" Jake starts. "—Spying," you say. "We were...just checking."

Sunghoon steps closer, expression unreadable and then dryly asks, "Did you confirm enough?"

You grin, tucking into Jake's side as the moaning from Heeseung's room hits another crescendo. You can't tell if Chaewon's laughing or crying with pleasure now.

Jake winces. "Jesus."

Sunghoon sighs and shakes his head, muttering, "Unbelievable," as he comes closer to you, making you straighten and turn, already smiling, already melting into him. His arms slide around your waist instantly, pulling you close until your nose nearly brushes his collarbone.

"Really" he murmurs, voice low and amused, eyes flicking toward the door where the sounds are still spilling out. "You two are standing out here like perverts"

"They're being loud," you defend softly, fingers slipping up into his hair, a little dazed from the heat of him.

Sunghoon tilts his head. "Hot?"

You nod, cheeks flushing. He leans in, brushing his lips just barely over your cheek as he whispers, "Not as hot as you."

Your knees go weak.

Then, his hand slips around the back of your neck, thumb ghosting just beneath your ear. "Is your plug still in, baby?"

Your breath hitches audibly, and you nod again, eyes wide. He exhales slowly, smile tugging at the corner of his lips, there’s something almost devout in the way he looks at you. Then he tips his head toward the guest bedroom behind him, his mouth curling into a knowing smile. "Yeah?"

You nod again, smaller this time, breath hitching as his hands grip tighter. Without another word, he lifts you and starts walking. Jake grins, trailing after you both, already tugging off his shirt. "Fuck yeah," he says with a laugh, gaze flicking to the cracked door of Heeseung's room.

════════════════════════════

• a/n: i had to give heeseung a semblance of a happy ending 😭 i just had too!

[katkit14]

What's its like being a female in all the Dorms

So I was making characters from my last idea and then it came to me. Headcanons for being the only female in each dorm!

Prompt : So rundown, you are the only female student in the whole school. You were an a talented young woman who was reached out to, as a great opportunity for NRC to open their doors to both females and males alike. (in reality Crowley just thinks girls on campus would be less rowdy then all boys. Means less work for him. Or maybe it's cause RSA started to, and Crowley is offended. Either way you are here now!)

Warnings : Reader isn't yuu/Mc. Reader is born female. mentions of sexism and harrsement. A little cussing to. Mentions of Periods and Bras.

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Heartslabyul

Riddle would be just as hard on you as the other freshmen. He sees you no differently. Male, female? Doesn't matter, you are still a student. You must obey all the rules to a Tea (get it?). If you don't then it's off with your head just like everyone else. Which if your sorted into this dorm there is good chance you are okay with that. I could see you being more a stickler for rules but even if your not at least riddle is fair.

If you're more chaotic and less strict then Riddle would treat you like Ace. Don't think you are getting away with things just because you act all innocent. He will make you write a 100-page essay on what you did wrong and why you won't do it again. That's if it's after his overblot. If not then it's "OFF WITH YOUR HEADU".

Though if you were forced into a bedroom with boys, Riddle might raise a fuss saying it's improper and get you your own bedroom. He will make the mistake of going through Crowley though.

Trey wouldn't act any different either. He'd also just see you as another freshmen. Carter though, he would avoid you. Like oh no, he has sisters. He "knows" what girls are like. He will warm up to you though.

Ace will flirt so much with you it's unreal. Cheesy pick up lines, smooth one liners, etc. He'll become annoying with it. Like get a spray bottle kind of annoying. Deuce is the opposite. He is super respectful and always a gentleman to you. He may become less stern if you befriend him but he'll always be a bit soft around you. If you ask, he'll beat ace up.

Now the rest or heartslabyul really doesn't react to you, you're kinda just another student. No one looks out for you but no one in the dorm harrases you. Now when it comes to female stuff, everyone in this dorm gets real awkward about it. On your period and are Bleeding through your WHITE dorm uniform? Everyone swet drops but only a few people speak up. If you do end up having to share a dorm room (even with riddle throwing a fit) the other boys in the room would be respectful and change in a bathroom instead of the room. They also would allow you access to the bathroom first ( unless it's ace. Then he pushes you out the way saying "Ladies first my ass" ).

Anyone who harrases you will face Riddles wrath though. Oh and the one brain cell duo. Riddle will be more proper by lecturing them but if the One brain cell duo gets ahold of them, then lights out.

Savanaclaw

Leona let's you off easier then the other students. Mostly cause he is mildly intimidated by you. He knows you aren't a beastman, but it's still ingrained into him to respect females. So if you just stand up to him and be like "yeah no" he won't really fight you. If you are on the softer side, he'd slowly but surely start to have a soft spot for you. He'd still respect you, even if you weren't a fighter. He'd just be more of an asshole if you didn't scare him as much.

If you were forced to share a room, it wouldn't be long before you had your own room since there are a lot of drop outs. Leona would put in the hardwork of making ruggie clear you out a room to yourself.

Ruggie's mostly the same way, he mostly respects you and your stuff. He won't take your stuff either just because of that slight fear. If you befriend him, he'll be more likely to share his food with you then with a guy.

Jack mostly treats you as an equal. No more, no less. Though he can be kinda awkward at first, once you befriend him he's a lot more chill.

Now the rest of Savanaclaw is spilt into two. Seeing you are the mom of Savanaclaw or being sexiest against you. If you are a fighter then you can easily put the sexiest ones in their place. If not, Jack can do it for you. Mostly the ones who see you as mom, would go to war for you. Like you are highly respected. Now if you accept the title then it's a whole lot of caring for dumbass's after fights, and making sure everyone hydrates after work outs. If you don't accept it, it doesn't matter cause they aren't dropping it. But you can kick their ass if they get to annoying.

During sports you have a whole line of bestmen and humans alike cheering for you! Like personal cheerleaders. And during school hours you have a bunch of guys coming through checking up on you, seeing if you are okay. They gotta take care of their dorm mom.

If you get your period, the whole dorm knows. Fun fact, period blood doesn't smell like fresh blood so they know it's your period to. Expect to find a basket of chocolate at your door, with a note saying " please accept this, in return don't kill us."

Octavinelle

Azul has a different opinion depending on what you are like.

I imagine if you got sorted into this dorm then you are more like a shady capitalist. If that's the case then he constantly feels threatened by you and has the Twins keep an eye on you.

If you are more Naive or more sweet then he is a lot less afraid and he puts you to work at the Lounge. Like as a hostess or a waitress, in order to lure more costumers.

If you were forced to share a room with boys he'd arrange another room for you...for a price. Man has no chill.

Jade doesn't really treat you any differently. More or less isn't fazed. He will still beat you up if he has to, and it won't make him go softer on you.

Floyd also doesn't care. He treats you the same as well. Honesty I could see him forgetting you are a girl. If you are a bit curvier he will squish you more. If you are the skinny side he likes to shake you. He swears you raddle. He will base his nickname off your personality, rather then your gender.

As far as the other students? Well everyone tries to budy up with you just purely based on business. It's an opportunity to get you to do stuff for them. If you're at negotiation then you'd be sitting pretty on favors, thaumbucks, and stuff.

Now if you choose not take Azul up on his deal and you are forced to share a room, they will be respectful and not change in front of you but other then that? You are on your own unless they owe you. Need pads/ tampons? Sams shop isn't to far away and you have working legs. It can be kinda hard to make friends in this dorm, with everyone being so shady and always wanting something from you. There really isn't anyone to help if you get harrassed either (unless you befriend the twins, then big scary dog previlige), though if you complain to Azul enough he will step in. You have to be pretty independent to be in this dorm.

Scarabia

Kalim and you are besties. It doesn't matter if agreed to it, he just thinks you are so cool! He treats you like his little sister...so basically like all the other students. He is always inviting to parties and he will take you out on magic carpet rides! He may come off strong but he just wants you to feel comfortable. He does put a lot of stress on jamil though with this...well even more stress.

I feel like if you had to share a room with boys and said you weren't comfortable with that then he would build a whole new just for you! Oh come on, it's the least you he could do to make you comfortable.

Jamil takes a lot longer to be cozy with you. He treats you with respect but doesn't really interact with you more then he has to which he has to a lot thanks to Kalim. Unless you befriend him somehow, then he slowly becomes more protective over you.

Kalim tries his best but doesn't understand female problems. Jamil on the other hand is the one to call if you have really bad cramps that wont go away or need help getting pads/tampons. Just take it easy on him, he's already got a lot to deal with.

The rest of the dorm is pretty nice to you. Most of them try to be helpful where they can, and it's really easy to befriend guys your age. Not a lot of harassment happens here but when it does Jamil will handle it unless you take care of it yourself. Even if he doesn't like you that much, he still doesn't believe in acting that way to girls just cause his little sister.

if you refused to let Kalim build you a room then some of the boys would move in with each other to let you have a room to yourself.

Pomefoire

Vil is even harder on you then he is on other students. He doesn't want you to get away with stuff and not put your best in just because you are female. He will push and push to do your best. From skin care regimens and diets, to work outs and class's on etiquette (depends on what you need according to him.) you would be his secret favorite but he would never tell anyone. Best believe though you will have your own room, and bathroom. He'll get you to chat with him. Tell him who you like, who bothers you. I can just see him judging whoever you like so hard. especially if it was another Dormleader like " Really? Couldn't you do a little better?"

Rook is a little more flirty to you, but not to much that anyone notices. I think flirty is just his personality. Anyways he is a real gentleman, still does as Vil says but gently. He also seems to get a bit protective over you, often getting people when they make you uncomfortable, even if you can handle it yourself.

He thought you were just a girly guy like him at first. Once he finds out your a girl, Epel thinks he has to look out for you. But makes a bunch of off hand comments that make Vil smack him. He is one of those "you can't hit a girl" kind of dudes.

As for the rest Pomefiore, they don't even notice you are a girl. Even if you very curvy. They just think it's drag or something. If your Skinner they just think your a normal student. Unless you tell anyone you are a girl they won't know. If you do tell them they don't care. I can't really see anyone in the dorm messing with you. If not from pure "I don't care enough" then it's the fear of Vil and Rook.

Vil refuses to let you share a dorm room, even if you are fine with it. Unlike Riddle he won't try to go through Crowley. He'll just do it. If there aren't any other rooms then you can stay with him. He if that does happen, he will be very respectful but you won't be able to escape his nagging.

I can see Vil kind of catering to your needs. Like he keeps tampons and pads in the dorms bathroom and giving you ways to get blood out of your clothes. He wants you to feel comfortable.

Ignihyde

Idia, talking to someone? Let alone a girl? Yeah no. He maybe talked to you once or twice because Ortho made him. He stays as far away from you as possible.

Ortho and you are friends. He is just so adorable how could you not? Even if you are shy, it's fine cause he's not. Once you are friends he constantly trying to get his brother and you to interact, but that works as well as trying to introduce water and oil.

Don't worry about sharing a room either cause if you have to, your dorm mates are never there. They refuse to interact with anyone. Hell, I can imagine a student making a wall divider just so no one doesn't have to talk.

It's safe to say no one is gonna harass you. They would feel scared being around you. I guarantee you that they have never talked to a real girl, and they don't plan to. That does mean you are on your own, about everything. It can also be hard to make friends but not impossible. Just hard. But hey you have the best wifi in the whole school! I imagine if you are in this dorm you are probably more antisocial yourself so you are probably fine with no one talking to you. But if you aren't, probably look for friends outside of your dorm.

I'm sorry this one is shorter, there isn't a lot to say on this dorm.

Diasomnia

Malleus is more then welcoming. Though he will keep his distance if you are scared of him. If you aren't then you will quickly become friends with him. He doesn't really see you differently then other students, but he does understand you may find some challenges that other students won't and he tries his best to accommodate to that.

If you share a dorm room, and you aren't comfortable he will get you another room to yourself. Very easily to. If you are fine with it or don't say anything then he won't know to so speak up. Feel free to complain to him. I don't know why but I see him being a softer dorm leader.

Lilia has to adopted you, sorry. Sebek and Silver both betray you, and point to you whenever Lilia asks who wants to try his cooking....if you survived feel free to punch them.

Speaking of Sebek and Silver, Sebek dislikes you. Or at least at first. He thinks your far to close to Malleus, but also you should worship him? Can't have your cake and eat it to. But after awhile he accepts you but barely.

Silver likes you just fine. I can see really anyone getting along with him. The only thing really wrong about him is sleepyness but he can't help that. So you two will probably become friends no matter your personality.

As far as the rest of dorm goes (is there other students? But nah really) most people leave you be. Not really talking to you or paying attention to you. I don't really see anyone fucking with you here, but if they do lilia will see to it if you don't handle it yourself. If Malleus finds out though, boy do they get the hell out of NRC. Malleus doesn't believe in sexism. Really none of the Diasomnia boys do but Malleus and Lilia have the power to do something about it.

Lilia and Silver is a lot more understanding of Female problems then Malleus and Sebek. Silver is a very understanding kind of guy, and Lilia's old has experience. I imagine fae also have periods but they are different. So lilia might not understand entirely but knows the basics. Malleus is clueless though he tries to understand. He will ask questions on everything if you allow him to, if not Lilia will explain. He just wants to know, so he can help. Sebek though just refuses to learn or care. He doesn't see you any different from anyone else really. So he treats you like he does all the other first year's (your poor eardrums). None other then Malleus ( if you've befriended him) are that protective of you. With most viewing you can take care of yourself just fine.

If you do end up sharing a room though, I feel like it'd probably be with Sebek. Who doesn't care whether you are Female or not. He won't change in front of you or try to peep at you. He will leave your stuff alone to. But sharing a room with him comes with it's own challenges.

He will still keep up his shrine to Malleus. He will hog the bathroom half the morning. He will be very loud in the morning and at night. Great seven forbid you stay up past 9pm.

I don't really see you sharing a room with other dorm members but if you do, then they mostly leave you alone. They won't change in front of you but that's it. Not really much to say there.

Bonus

If you leave Bras around your room in ignihyde, One of the boys will faint.

If you're in Pomefiore, you will be one Crewels favorite students.

In Heartslabyul, if you leave a little pad station in the bathroom, some of the first year boys will start using them as badaides.

The Savanaclaw boys use Hair ties and Srunchies as a weapon so if you have long hair, good luck.

If you are in Diasomonia, and rooming with Sebek. If you leave blood on the toilet seat, he will freak out asking in a very tsundere way if you are okay, once it's explained...Lilia will not let him live it down like ever.

If you are in Octavinille, don't ever leave a bra or undergarment in the open. Floyd will use it as a sling shot. (ace would to)

In Scarabia, Kalim forgets you are girl sometimes. Like" hey you want to go swimming with me? I had a pool put in yesterday! Everyone was getting way to hot!" "sorry I can't im on my period" "What?". Jamil faceplamed, cause Kalim knows what a period is, he just forgot you get them.

[seleneprince]

0 | PROLOGUE

m.list

??? POV

They say that when you’re about to die, your whole life flashes before your eyes—like a fast movie. Or a TikTok reel, skipping through your childhood and toward the present.

Apparently, it's meant to show you the mistakes you made before that moment. The things you did—or worse, didn’t. So you can spend your last moments filled with regrets. Sweet, isn't it?

Personally, I don't think that's true. At least, not for everyone. When you're about to die, you spend the last minutes you have left retracing the steps and decisions that led you here, one by one. Then, the epiphany hits: this was always going to happen. You’ve been heading toward this direction all along.

I know because that's what's happening to me right now. I'm dying.

Well—not technically. A more accurate description would be: I’m falling to my death. I estimate five seconds, at maximum, until I hit the ground and my time is over. After all, how many people survive falling from a tenth-floor window? Not many. Unless you got superpowers or a parachute, which sadly, is not my case. I'm a just a regular human.

Well, scratch that. I’m stronger, smarter, and generally more capable than most humans. But I still have limits—unnerving, frustrating limits. The kind that come with... being just human. Like weakness against gravity. It's so annoying sometimes.

Now more than ever, of course. Oh well...not like it matters anymore, I guess.

It’s not my first time falling from a considerable height—or being pushed from one—but usually, I can grab unto something before the worst happens. Or, even better, push them off instead. But this time, as soon as I felt the window's glass shattering against my back, I knew there was no saving this time. No ledge to grab. No lucky balcony to break the fall. Just air. And gravity doing its job too well.

My body barely twists mid-air, still reeling from the blast that threw me out of the damn window in the first place. But because instincts are hard to turn off, my limbs flail on reflex, like it'll help, even when I'm plummeting to my death.

It's amazing, really—how the brain still tries its damn hardest to keep you alive, even when you’ve mentally accepted the end already. Muscles tighten. Hands flail uselessly. Eyes looking for miracles.

But I know there are no miracles for me today. Never again.

So instead, I use my last moments to think. Think about all the decisions that led up to this. The arguments. The ambitions. The mistakes. The betrayal. The familiar warmth of rage boiling in my blood when I lunged. The delicious rush of adrenaline as I made them bleed, as I took out all my frustrations on their bones until the end.

I think about how part of me knew this was how it would end. Not necessarily the fall, but what it led to it. That part had been a long time coming.

And weirdly... I’m not really scared. I’m pissed, that's for sure—and in a lot of pain. Mildly satisfied too. It's not like I wanted to die young, but I always figured that when it happened, I’d go out in a blaze of something cool. And a fragmentation-EMP hybrid bomb? Yeah, that's cool as fuck. Bond-movie level cool.

The fact that it was built from my own design just adds a special flavour of irony to it.

Shame I can't have this moment recorded in video. Make it slow-motion and it could be used as a sick-ass scene for an action movie's trailer. Or played for my funeral. That would be awesome.

After everything that's happened, it just feels right. The perfect goodbye.

And yet...there's something that bothers me. A lot.

As my body goes down faster and the icy realization of my uncoming demise crashes over me, I think of my mom. My little siblings. Alfred. Duke. Even my dad...not the biological one, but the first one I had. The only one I've had.

I think of my friends, my life, everything I built...and now I'm leaving behind. Unfinished.

I can see my mom crying when she finds out, sobbing in that way she hasn't allowed herself to since she got married. She’ll break. She’ll be told that her daughter—her firstborn, her pride—is dead. Torn from her. And no one will be there to hold her the way she needs. No one will be there to comfort her through her raw pain and grief.

Alfred will try, I know he will. But there are parts of her grief he won’t be able to reach. The twins—my baby siblings—they’re too young. They’ve never had to carry that kind of emotional weight. And my father…yeah, she'll be alone in this.

I can see my little brother and sister hearing the news. Alfred will have to tell them, because mom would've entered a state of shock. Or maybe she tells them herself, pulling through the sorrow to do what she must, as she's always done.

They'll be confused at first, would demand to know more. Marco will definitely ask to see the truth for himself, and my sister—god, my little angel. She will rage. Against who killed me, against the system, against the world, against everyone and anyone she thinks have played a role in my death. And then, she will break down. Marco will follow her as soon as the reality dawns on him. As soon as he realises that I'm really not coming back.

Dad might hear about it from Arkham. If the news makes it through. Maybe he’ll cry, too. Maybe he’ll kill someone for it. If things were different, he would be by mom's side when it happens, and she would someone to rely on, to share the burden.

Alfred will be sad too, in his own way. He doesn't show his emotions as openly, but I know he loves me. Loves us all. He's watched me grow, taught me so many useful things...shit, I'll miss him too.

And Duke...oh shit, Duke. My best friend in that house, my other brother. The only one of them that never made me feel like shit. The only one I have never wanted to kill at some point. We were supposed to go to the arcade today, after his patrol was over. He doesn't know I'm here—he planned to pick me up from my rehearsal after he was done. Now, he might be the one to find my body first when The Signal comes to assess the incident. Maybe he'll be the one to pass the news to my family.

Oh God.

And now—finally—I start to cry. Of course this is what makes me break down. Not the pain. Not the inevitability of death. But the sheer, overwhelming reality that I never got to say goodbye.

And it's not fucking fair.

I know that people rarely get to say goodbye in this line of work, because we never know when our time has come until it punches us in the face and breaks it. But still…I believed I’d get the chance. That maybe—just maybe—the universe would make an exception for me.

Guess Duke was right, after all. I can be a bit too arrogant sometimes.

He was right about a lot of things, actually.

My body finally crashes, and the pain—god, the pain—hits me like an earthquake ripping through every nerve ending I have. I feel my bones shattering and pressing against my insides. It steals the air from my lungs, leaves me speechless for solid minutes.

I can’t even scream.

It’s like my entire being is on fire, burning in pure, unfiltered agony. I’ve been through plenty of shit. I’ve endured enough pain to build a high tolerance to it. I’ve fought through injuries that would’ve taken others out for good. But this?

Fuck.

This is different. This is worse than anything I've ever had. It's torture. Every breath I take it's like stabbing my lungs. I already taste blood on my tongue. My own damn blood.

And all I can do now is hope it ends quickly.

As I lay there, motionless among the ruins and shards of the shattered window that came down with me, I realize I’ve landed in an alley. It’s quiet—eerily so. Not even rats scurry nearby.

Somehow, I muster just enough strength to turn my head and glimpse the sky. Still early, it seems. Weird. It feels like I’ve been stuck in that warehouse for days.

The twins' classes will be over soon. Will Mom pick them up today, or Alfred? And how long will it take the GCPD or paramedics to arrive?

I strain my ears, trying to catch the wail of sirens from afar, but even that miserable effort sends a wave of pain through me that makes me close my eyes.

It’s getting harder to breathe. My heartbeat’s slowing down. I know what this means.

I’m dying.

Minutes left—maybe less, if God decides to be merciful for once.

Somewhere far away, I think I hear children laughing in the street. And my mind—traitorous, gentle—drifts to the twins. My baby siblings. I wonder if they got into trouble today. I wonder how long will it take them to move on from this. I wonder what kind of people they'll grow up into.

I see Mom's face as well. Her beautiful smile, her eyes full of warmth just for us. The strongest, bravest woman I've known. My idol. The person I look up to the most. The one I strived to become.

I wonder how she'll receive the news. I wonder if she'll resent me from not listening to her and causing her this grief, after everything she's already lost. Or if she'll mourn me in silence just to keep her facade, for the twins' sake, because they still need her.

I wonder if she’ll decorate my grave the way she decorated my first room—lovingly, meticulously, pouring all her devotion into it like it is the only thing she can control.

I hope they're fine. I hope, if there's something else after this, that I get to watch them from afar. Make sure they're okay until we meet again.

But as darkness begins to cloak my vision, and my body grows heavier—sleepier—there’s a small part of me that wails. Crying out in desperation, because she doesn’t want to die yet.

She’s scared. Terrified. She’s not ready to leave this world behind. Not yet.

Not the people we love. Not the memories. Not the laughter, the warmth, the mess of it all.

She wants to live.

Even now, even here—she still wants to live.

I still want to live.

That's my last though before my eyes shut completely, with warm tears running down my cheeks, and the blood soaking my clothes.

...............

.......

What's that light at the end? Is it the sun, or the gates?

[ezisregrettinglifedecisions]

How are you not dead yet? - MV1/33

Pairing - Fem! Dutch Olympic Rugby Player! Reader x Max Verstappen Warnings - Probably wrong terms of endearment in Dutch and like one maybe two swear words Type - Written Fic Word Count - 1.2k Summary - Max and Y/n always call each other before and after their races and matches. Y/n unfortunately has a knack for ending up mildly hurt. Links - My main masterlist is here And as it is a part of my F1 x Olympics series, the masterlist is here

Requests are open <3 Hope you enjoy it! 💙 P.s the lion is me because my neck is actually so done for

P.p.s I am so sorry this is so late. I've been so busy and had very little motivation. But thank you for bearing with me if you followed me for this xx you're very appreciated xx

You were sat by your phone waiting for Max to pick up. It rang twice before his voice rang out from the speaker.

“Pre race call. Checking in copy?” You let out a small laugh at the tradition of answering your calls like a radio message.

“Loud and clear Maxie. Whatever would I do without my pre race call.” You were sat on your bed in the Olympic village, one of your teammates smiling as she leaves the room noticing the phone call. “I'm fully unpacked before you ask, been here for an age already but my laptop is set-up and I've got some of the build-up on now. Let's hope Spa gives us some luck.”

From the other side of the phone you could hear Max laugh. 

“Schatje, you've got your first match tomorrow, You shouldn't be watching me race, you should be doing some final prep.”

“But someone needs to cheer for you and annoy every one of their teammates with the excessive cheering and yelling during race weekends.” You smiled to yourself thinking about the times that you had one of Max's races on while with your family last year only for them to tell you that you had to quiet down a bit due to the 'excessive yelling and crying'.

“I know liefje, there's no point even trying to get you to change your mind. I love you, I've got to go get into the car.” 

Although you were slightly disappointed that you couldn't talk for longer, you knew that you both had things you needed to get on with. 

“Okay Max. Have a wonderful race! Stay safe baby. I love you!”

“I love you more”

You smiled and hung up immediately making sure to turn on the volume on the laptop to hear the commentators. Twenty minutes later and the cars were out on track for the formation lap and you were sat very comfortably in front of your laptop holding onto the small stuffed lion that you had brought with you hidden in the depths of your suitcase. 

“Come on baby you’ve got this.”

You knew he was incredibly far back, P11 was not the most ideal result from qualifying but the penalty was inevitable after having to change some of the car components. The lights went out and you watched the race gripping onto the small lion tightly throughout the turns and battles. 

When the end came, the lion was certainly glad as noted by the fact that there was no longer stuffing in his poor limp neck, and so were you, very happy to see that Max had managed to fight his way back up to P4, and while it was not P1, neither of you could be happier with the result as the phone rung as soon as Max was available.

“P4 baby!” You declared excitedly into the phone as soon as the call had connected. “I’m so proud of you schat!” 

His happy face filled the screen, a smile proudly on his face. “Someones happier than I am about the result.”

“Of course you should also be happy baby! After a 10 grid place penalty and fighting up to P4 that's skilled love! Come on be happy about it! Its a good result I promise.”

He smiled softly at you. “Thank you, that means a lot, especially coming from you darling… Now haven’t you got to go to practice with the rest of your team?”

You checked the time and groaned. “I didn’t notice… okay… love you baby… I’m so proud of you Maxie!” You called into the phone which was now facing the ceiling as you ran round the room picking up the gear that you needed for practice.

“Bye Y/n.” Max chuckled.

“Bye Max!” You said just before the call cut off.

☆☆☆

The preparation was tough, but worth it as you got ready rather confident in your team, and your own skill, before the match the next day.

The only thing left now was to make sure all traditions were wrapped up, and that meant calling Max.

Three rings and his face was filling your screen.

“Hey schatje. Excited?” He asked with a criminally bright orange scarf wrapped round his neck, presumably in order to demonstrate his support for the Dutch rugby team rather than a sudden switch to supporting Mclaren’s endeavors for the championships.

“And nervous. Mainly excited though.” You said trying to hold back laughter at the orange that could only be described as fluorescent. “Sorry off topic, but genuinely who let you buy that scarf.”

“Surely its not that bad liefje.” Max defended, clutching dramatically at the scarf wrapped round his neck.”

You grimaced jokingly. “I wouldn’t rest your hopes on that baby.”

Max shook his head, sighing in sad defeat. “Can’t believe you’d do this to me, right before your game as well, I’d got all dressed up, ready to support my darling girlfriend and I get insulted on my scarf.”

“Its deserved I’m afraid love. Look I’ve got to go now, love you Maxie!” You said waving into the camera and showing the little lion, sitting proudly on the bench in the changing room, neck still very much lacking in stuffing.

“Good luck Y/n! Love you! And love you too Aslan, wait what happened to his neck?”

“Don’t worry about it Max. Bye!”

☆☆☆

Twelve minutes.

Twelve minutes into the match and you were off for an insane amount of blood gushing from a very broken nose.

And a suspected concussion.

Twelve minutes of actual play time after over a week of stressing.

You were fuming, and to make it all so much worse, this was not the first time this had happened in the last 3 months. And Max was not happy last time, especially with your stubbornness and determination to keep on playing. He was not going to be ecstatic about this little excursion.

After you had been checked out and signed off on a broken nose and minor concussion Y/n was calling Max again. This time though, he picked up almost immediately, and instead of meeting the eyes of a smiling, excited Max, she was met with a raised eyebrow and a very disappointed (and concerned but he wasn’t going to let you in on that emotion just yet) face.

“Y/n.. schatje… love of my life… what on earth were you thinking going for that move.”

“I saw the opening and I went for it.”

“With no malice behind these words liefje… how are you not dead yet?” Max sighed pinching the bridge of his nose.

You were sat cross legged on your bed in the olympic village again looking into the camera as you gave him a shrug. “Miracle work?”

Max let out a laugh. “Yeah thats certainly a possibility at this point.”

“Love you Maxie… jokes aside thank you for always supporting me.” You said as you laid down, the phone propped up on the pillows as you laid on your stomach.

“Always Y/n. Always.” Max smiled. “Now make sure you don’t like fall off the bed in the night and die yeah? That would be embarrassing.”

“Oh fuck right off.” 

This is a part of - F1 x Olympics Fics Masterlist for that series is found here

Thank you so much for reading! 💙

Requests are open for my normal fics if you wish <3

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