#also something about it was weirdly validating

[princess-of-the-corner]

Aware of Abuse AU

Nino in this is a little fascinating to me, cause I can’t see him NOT becoming friends with Adrien. I can see them maybe not being super close, especially at first, but I can’t see them being enemies. But I can also see Nino becoming the first class kid (outside Sabrina, and I’m not sure how she counts) to really GET the rich kid trio, and start trying to make proper friends with them.

Like, Just How I See This In My Head

(sorry to put this under a readmore but it’s a little long)

So, we have the first day shenanigans, who knows what, but we still have a bit of seat drama. Adrien ends up sitting in the front on Chloé’s side, Sabrina and Chloé behind him (protecting him, but shhhhh, that wasn’t on PURPOSE). Which means that there’s an empty seat next to Adrien, and … no one really wants to sit IN FRONT of Chloé. It’s not that they think she’ll DO something, but it Makes most of them uncomfortable. Like, no one’s being explicit about it (except maybe Marinette) but everyone’s reluctant to take that seat. So, Nino decides, “welp, someone’s gotta sit there. New kid doesn’t seem too bad, questionable friends aside” and plops himself down, introduces himself to Adrien.

Like, keep in mind, he’s been in the same class as Chloé for most of his school life, but Nino isn’t someone who’d be much on Chloé radar. He isn’t her friend (Sabrina) or her “obstacle./rival/jealousy-crush (Marinette). He and Chloé probably butted heads a few times, but nothing serious. Plus, she doesn’t mutter (Max) or kick the chair in front of her (Kim). She’s a tolerable seat mate. If it gets bad, well. He has headphones. He can probably just ignore her.

So, like, Nino takes the seat, introduces himself. Adrien starts to light up, because yay! New friend! But Nino probably still asks why he’s friends with Chloé. His light dims a bit. He gets quiet. He’s seen today why he’d ask, but he’s also seen other shit. He’s BEEN through some shit. He’s also been through the WRINGER today, fighting a giant stone monster did a NUMBER on him. He’s TIRED. So Adrien responds in a way he might not normally. "If you knew her, you wouldn’t have to ask.”

Nino’s a bit taken aback - that is a … weirdly solemn, serious response?? vaguely concerning?? - but decides, ok, sure. Why not? That could be a valid point, Nino doesn’t actually know Chloé personally, despite them being in school together most of their lives. She could genuinely be nice to some people. Or she could be a manipulative fuck, again, Nino doesn’t actually know her that well personally. Maybe she’s a decent person to people she considers “worthwhile” or some shit. Maybe she’s brainwashed Adrien like most of the class think she did to Sabrina. Who knows? Not Nino. But he doesn’t have to be a dick about it. If Chloé’s an amazing friend to Adrien, awesome. Maybe he’ll help mellow her out. If she’s actually the Anti-Christ, Nino can hopefully provide an example of a good friend for Adrien to look at and realize he deserves better.

(For the record, Nino does NOT think Chloé is devil spawn, he’s just looking at the two most extreme possibilities in his head)

So, he nods, concedes the point - “Yeah, that’s fair. We don’t really hang.” Adrien lights up a bit more, pleased. They chat a bit, about school, hobbies. (Behind them, Chloé’s in a state of shock, because what??? Someone??? Admitted she might?? Be good?? Not bad?? In a roundabout way, BUT STILL????!?)

So Adrien and Nino are … maybe not FRIENDS right away, but FRIENDLY. They talk. They exchange numbers. Adrien misses a day for a photoshoot, and Nino helps Sabrina take his notes. Nino still mostly hangs out with Marinette, Alya, the rest of the class, but he makes time to hang with Adrien too. At first just them, wandering around Paris, or hanging in his bedroom, but slowly, Nino gets invited to hang with Adrien, Chloé and Sabrina, sometimes Kagami.

And like … It’s awkward. We won’t pretend it’s not. But while Chloé is blunt, sometimes rude, she isn’t going out of her way to be MEAN. Isolated from the environment Nino’s used to seeing her in, it becomes really clear that Chloé just doesn’t have many other ways to interact with the world, and either has difficulty learning, or in a few cases doesn’t see the point. Away from everyone else, she’s also much more friendly to Sabrina - tries to talk her up more, get her to take more agency (maybe … not always in the best way, but she’s TRYING). And like, hanging with her at the mall, and then seeing her in school is a bit of whiplash for behaviour, but like. Now Nino’s SEEN her be a decent person with stunted social skills. He doesn’t think it EXCUSES anything, but like. He no longer buys Marinette’s “Rich Brat, Perfect Life” rant.

I think the big turning point for all of them would be Nino finding out how much their jokes about their parents aren’t exaggerated jokes. They aren’t “this is funny cause it’s ‘out there’” the jokes are “this funny cause it’s true”.

Cause like. At first, Nino honestly believes thats what they are. “The gates of hell would open before my dad threw me a birthday party.” / “I think my mother would fire me, if it wouldn’t look bad for the press.” “Like, fire you from being her daughter, or set you on fire?” “Yes.” / “Do you think my dad would notice if I pierced my ears?” “Oh, absolutely! Can’t have the face of his brand altered without prior agreement!” “True, true. What about you?” “Oh, I could dye my hair a different colour every day for a month and he wouldn’t notice.”

Like, Nino thinks it might just be some weird, rich people thing? It doesn’t help that, like, Adrien and Chloé don’t tend to make that many of those sort of jokes around him. I mean, they might know their parents suck, but they don’t want anyone ELSE to. It’s personal. Other people won’t get it. They don’t want pity. Whatever the reason, they try to keep the jokes on the downlow when hanging out with Nino. So, Nino doesn’t get the full force. A few black humour style jokes like that are … concerning, but Nino doesn’t think they’re, like, full on awful. Maybe a bit “rich parent neglectful” but like. Not bad, right? His friends aren’t in that bad of a situation, right?

I like to think the tipping point is a slip up. Something dramatic, because. I mean. Look at these kids. Drama follows them.

Like, say Nino’s over at Adrien’s. Gabriel is out for the day, which means the two have run of the place. They’re relaxing, playing video games, whatever, when Chloé bursts into the room in tears. Nino’s so shocked he falls off the sofa.

Chloé, however, doesn’t even look at him. No, all her focus is on Adrien, cause GUESS WHAT MUMMY DEAREST DID NOW!? Maybe it was a dinner gone wrong. A gift turned sour. A random argument. But just because Chloé KNOWS her mom is a bitch, doesn’t mean it hurts any less when Audrey demeans her. When she knows which nerves to hit and buttons to press. She’s ranting, sobbing about how, oh, of course she did this, why am I even surprised, I should have expected this, honestly. I knew what she was going to do, why open my big mouth!? It’s ridiculous, utterly-!

Chloé stops. Because she just noticed Nino. Who is having a horrible paradigm shift, realizing oh. Those jokes were NOT exaggerated. His friends’ parents ARE that bad. They DO suck that much.

Chloé’s ready to start falling apart all over again, because god, could she GET any more pathetic, she just spilled her guts in front-! She didn’t even SEE him, why wasnt she more careful-! Adrien is trying to figure out damage control. Nino can see them both panicking, and just says, “We could sell her kneecaps on eBay.”

Chloé & Adrien: “… . what?”

Nino, straight faced: “eBay. I heard kneecaps go for a lot, these days.”

Adrien, after a pause: “Audrey’s though?”

Nino: *shrugs* “I mean, I don’t think we’d get much for them, especially once they’ve been shattered, but I still think we could get SOMETHING.”

More silence.

Nino: “Like … four dollars? I’m pretty sure we could get at LEAST four dollars. Maybe some old, chewed gum. Some dryer lint, if we feel like pushing it.”

Chloé, starting to smile a little: “… Mom has security.”

Nino: “I have a nine-iron, a taser, and six years of parkour. Also, I’m pretty sure Max has access to the dark web, and he owes me a no-questions-asked favour.”

-

Yes!! YES!!!!!

This is the vibes I am imagining!!

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

fire and the thud came on my spotify shuffle while me and my sister were listening to music this afternoon, and at the end of it she turns to me and goes “who was that? the lyrics sound like the kind of thing you’d write” and honestly i think it’s one of my favourite unintentional compliments i’ve ever received

[rosiethals]

for what it’s worth I am genuinely sorry to anyone I upset with my posts/tags

[mvxximvs]

just saw asteroid city and I think I have a new favorite movie

[kenjakusbraincum]

Sukuna is old. He is also weirdly cultured for the monster that he is. With so much time on his hands, he loves indulging in arts and literature, and as with everything else he tries, he's good at it. You wouldn't know this, of course, you are only his pet. The time you spend with him is limited and hardly consists of intellectual conversation. You are there to serve one purpose and you know that quite well. So when you wake up in his bed one morning, two things come as a surprise. First that you're even here. It's one of those rare occasions when Sukuna couldn't be bothered kicking or carrying you out of his chambers once your time together was up. Second, he's awake, bent over his desk and so concentrated on a little figurine in his hand that he doesn't immediately notice you've shuffled awake. Once your eyes focus, you see that he's holding a tool in his other hand. He's carving wood. You're almost hypnotized by the scene. The scene feels so private that even for a pet like you, who knows Sukuna in the most intimate way, it feels like you shouldn't be watching. But you can't look away.

"Awake?", he asks, without sparing a glance at you. You apologize for staring, and look for your clothes around the bed. You throw them on just precisely enough to cover up until you reach your chambers, just wanting to be as quick and innocuous as possible. You wait for Sukuna's approval to leave. He gives you a simple nod, once more avoiding to look at you. You leave feeling conflicted. Special, because he allowed you to stay and watch (even as little as you did), but saddened because he barely looked at you, once more solidifying in your mind that you're only interesting to him when you're naked and bent over. As long as you've been here, you could never stop wishing for his validation.

Sukuna knows when you get insecure too. He notices the way your eyes droop, the way you close in on yourself and seem absent in his presence. He justifies this excessive worry about you by telling himself he likes to be the only thing that bothers his pets. All the way until he realized he already is the only thing that can make you sad. This realization falls upon him one time he lashes out on you and sees the immediate change of heart on your face. Now, he isn't one to apologize, especially not to someone who is as low under him as his pet. But why does he feel guilty when he sees this one act of his ruin your day? When he catches a glimpse of you sitting in the garden with your head hung low, or leaving more food on your plate than you usually do. If only you knew the way you really made him feel.

He beckons you to his chambers, and you follow three steps behind him like a good pet does. You didn't expect this time to be any different than others. You've become used to serving Sukuna on days you loved him and on days you hated him. But when he tells you to close your eyes, you know something is different. You obey, of course, and listen to his footsteps as he fetches something from the room. His hand takes yours and opens it, placing a piece of wood onto your palm. You already know, but you wait for him to allow you to open your eyes. He lightly presses his thumb on your cheek under your eye, and when you look, you find a small wooden fawn, curled up and asleep in your hands.

"Master!!..", you start, but nothing else can leave your mouth. You turn the figure around in your hand, inspecting and admiring the details. He's given you gifts before, but not ones carved by his own hand. Not ones made with love.

"You don't have to squint anymore.", Sukuna says, almost jokingly. But his face is as serious as ever as he looks at you, his muse. He thinks of the first time he's exhausted you to the point of passing out right after your nightly meetings. You were relatively new and very unsure of your safety. He thinks of your small body curled up in sleep on the edge of his bed, knees pressed to your chest in a primal, subconscious attempt to protect yourself. His little pet, his fawn.

You slur on and on about how beautiful it is, how you don't know how to thank him, the usual when you receive a gift. And as usual, Sukuna shuts you up with a kiss. You welcome it and wrap your arms around his neck, giving yourself in to him and letting him take you to the bed.

And he takes things slow tonight. He's gentle and so, so giving. Every sensation is delicate, prolonged and heightened to exhaustion. You cling to him, pull him impossibly close, and come apart under the comforting weight of him. Afterwards, you hold his hand to your face and kiss it softly. His hands, so large and strong, capable of such violence, yet for you they craft gifts, cradle, caress, love... in a very subtle and distant way, of course. With these thoughts your hands slip away from his, you turn around and quickly drift off.

He looks at you now, sleeping so close to him. Trusting him with your back, and turning your curled up form to the outside world. As if he is no longer a perceived danger. He smiles to himself in victory, and plants a chaste kiss to your shoulder to wish you one final goodnight.

[starstruckmoony]

Hi, could I request a enemies to lovers with Enzo? Love your writing :))

tysm for the request anon!! i am so so sorry for taking ages to post this but i got veryyyyyy carried away and it may or may not be too long BUT i hope you enjoy it and that it's similar enough to what you imagined <3

king of my heart.

masterlist , requests

pairing - lorenzo berkshire x reader

summary - you and lorenzo are both sore, jealous losers with egos the size of jupiter, so you decide that you hate one another and that academic competing is the way to go. you keep that up for six full years, until something rather unfortunate happens and destroys your entire game plan.

trope/tags - enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers, angst, fluff

word count - 12.8k

warnings - language, smoking

if there was one thing every single person who ever crossed your path knew about you, even if you were barely acquainted, was that you had sort of been raised without the ability to accept that you cannot always come out on top. it was simply incomprehensible. you'd been told that you were a gifted kid from the moment you became aware of your pathetic little existence. it did wonders to your ego. your smarts and determination amused your tutors, petrified them even. and the better you got, the more motivation it sparked in you.

you intended to keep things going your way when your acceptance letter for hogwarts arrived in the mail. you weren't worried, not even a little bit, and neither were your parents. being the best of the best was a running thing in your family.

unsurprisingly, it couldn't have started off better. your professors loved you. other kids envied you. each essay and exam result you'd ever recieved was the textbook definition of perfect. your grades were nicer that aphrodite's reflection in the mirror, as hermione had told you once. it was a lot coming from her. she was also amongst the few of the smartest, most hardworking students in your year, but you never felt threatened by her, or anybody else for that matter. there was, weirdly, no jealousy. on her part, at least, considering you so very effortlessly secured your spot as top of the class and never let anybody take it. she'd always be happy for you like the good friend she was, proudly patting you on the back, yet you couldn't help but think if she ever felt a little angry behind that supportive smile of hers.

and funny enough, you were finally able to stop pretending to know what it was like one fine wednesday before the christmas holidays. you had come into class more confident than ever that morning, smugly waiting for your potions essay results. you were hoping for a hundred, but a ninety nine, maybe even a ninety eight, didn't seem so bad either. that would have been, if lorenzo berkshire hadn't got his essay back with a score better than yours. he, much like yourself, was just another sore loser who craved academic validation like a drug, silently fuming whenever somebody surpassed him. he had dealt it with for months, watching you ace everything from charms to transfiguration, and always being second to you. the jealousy consumed his entire being, and he was kind of going mental, so you one could only imagine how ecstatic he was when he saw your face twist with dread after snape praised him in front of everybody. he wouldn't have hidden that mocking grin on his face if you held a knife to his throat and it made you want to choke him to death, for lack of better term.

"l/n." he sang as he successfully caught you in the corridor right after the said lesson. twat. you ignored him and increased the speed of your steps, biting the inside of your cheek, so hard that it began to sting. you didn't instantaneously realise how desperate he was to get your attention, but it became a lot clearer when he stood in front of you, entirely blocking your path. your little attempts to confuse him and avoid the situation were useless. it was kind of pathetic.

"what do you want?" simply shoving him to the ground and acting like it never happened would have done the job, but god forbid you swallowed your pride for once. 

"c'mon, don't be so pissy, i'm just trying to make conversation." you saw right through him, anyone would. him? wanting to make conversation with you? after death-glaring you every lesson for three months straight? and then bursting your bubble and being so smug about it? you almost scoffed, "you're in my way."

"oh, my apologies." he moved to the side and bowed dramatically, waiting for you to leave. you rolled your eyes, and took a single step forward, just to have him come right back to his original spot.

"move." you tried to shove him and even attempted to run for it, but he was faster than you. your nostrils flared, "you know that today was just dumb luck, right?" you crossed your arms, thinking you'd get under his skin, but there was no sign of change on his face. on the contrary, he was more accomplished than ever. you were fuming.

"i wouldn't call it that." he tilted his head to the side, observing your face.

"alright then," you copied his movements, "plagiarism?" his smile fell a little. it made you a lot happier than it should have. you expected victory from that senseless squabble, but lorenzo wasn't the type of person who backed down so easily. that was something you should have known.

"you're projecting." he shrugged, blankly staring at you.

"projecting?" you almost stuttered.

"projecting. pick up a dictionary, yeah?" he gave your head a tiny pat, and left you standing in the hallway, dumbfounded, angry, and a little humiliated.

that moment alone set off a feud that changed the trajectory of your miserable lives forever. each time he did better than you, whether it was on an essay, an exam, flying lessons even, your urge to wipe his existence of the face of the earth got stronger. the feelings were mutual on his part. you went back and forth like that for a while, trying not to be that obvious about it, but one could only hide their true feelings for so long.

it started off with hushed insults, which got strategically thrown around every time you'd cross each other's path. having other people notice your diminishing confidence was proper nightmare fuel, so you kept it as subtle as possible. then it turned into shoving and pushing, which was enough to set off some alarm bells in the heads of your friends. neville had told you that it wasn't worth it, and draco, of all fucking people, had told lorenzo to tone it down, but you refused to listen. you offered a few empty promises, saying that you'll sort it out sooner or later (sort out as in make sure you never let lorenzo get a score higher than yours again, but that was not going to happen).

your sooner or later turned into a few godawfully long years. saying you hated him may have seemed like an overstatement, but there was no other way to describe that burning feeling of i want to fucking kill you that entirely took over you whenever you laid your eyes on him. it kept getting worse and worse, without you realising just how bad it had become. your little competitions had completely lost their significance. it didn't matter who was first anymore. it could be ron or pansy, and you wouldn't bat an eye. all you cared about was surpassing each other, even if you were among the average with your scores.

that being said, it became an open secret of sort. as stupid as you made your classmates out to be, they were not, and they quickly put the missing puzzle pieces together. one of them spread a rumour that you tried to kill lorenzo, or vice versa, you couldn't really remember. and frankly, you couldn't blame them. you had given them more than enough reasons to think that you hated his guts. the most ridiculous instance had to have been the one during potions class when snape assigned you to work together. you could have placed a bet of two million galleons that he did it on purpose. it was like he wanted you to fail.

lorenzo had managed to insult you before he even took a seat at your table, calling you too stupid to work with in front of the entire class. you told him that he was a daft idiot when he unwillingly slumped down into the empty seat next to you, which had only set him off more. you accepted your fates almost immediately, knowing that whatever task snape assigned to you wouldn't be done, even if it cost you your grades.

just like you predicted, you did everything but what you were supposed to; spilled every sort of liquid there was all over each other's things, broke a few glasses, set two notebooks on fire, and burnt a hole in the table. you had stuck him to his chair, too, and lost a few house points as a result.

***

a sane person would have reached a certain point and stopped, pushing all of those stupid grudges aside. forgive and forget, that whole talk. hopelessly, your friends thought you would have got over it as you were growing older and that you would have chosen basic human decency over some hurt feelings and an insignificant competition no one gave a shit about. but no. you were not sane. you were ruthless, and you continued trying to make each other miserable like your lives depended on it. you hated lorenzo berkshire, and he hated you just as much. you were too naive and caught up in it all to realise that it'll come right back for you later.

it was like some sick obsession. from obvious sabotaging during classes whenever you got assigned to work together (followed by unsatisfactory results you blamed the other for) to throwing insults at each other in the corridors where everybody was set to hear you, you had checked every single one off.

you called him a useless arsehole on a daily basis. he called you an insufferable bitch every time he saw you. you had cursed out each other during lessons and done even worse things when nobody was looking. and if anyone did see you and try to get involved and call you names, it was bad news for them. you were each other's enemies to insult and demean and degrade and ruthlessly bully, nobody else's. only you were allowed to call him a cockroach, and only he was allowed to call you a snake. your relationship with lorenzo was nothing you could explain to somebody with a fully functioning brain, even if you tried.

one night in your fifth year, you had successfully snuck out in search of some sort encyclopaedia to help you out with your DADA assignment. none of the books which you were allowed to use did good enough of a job at making it easier, so you were hoping that the restricted section would have something better to offer - which it did. you couldn't recall the last time your trip to the library was that short.

to make things even better, you successfully avoided bumping into an annoying brunette who made your life oh so entertaining (unbearable). lorenzo wasn't anywhere to be seen. you smiled to yourself, feeling a sense of freedom at last. you were praying that the prick got bored of looming around the corridors all alone like a loser, waiting to terrorise you.

you began humming a tune you heard dean play on his old gramophone (one that got confiscated), and skipped around the corner to make your way to the grand staircase. mistake number one. you tripped over something, someone, but managed to stay on your feet as opposed to falling face-first onto the ground. you didn't even have to look back to know who it was.

"my, my, out rebelling again?" lorenzo leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, smirking in satisfaction when he noticed how you were grimacing. he stepped on one of the books you dropped, refusing to move when you tried to snatch it back.

"do you mind?" you spat, aggressively pulling it from under his foot. you straightened out your clothes and dusted yourself off before tucking the literature you had picked up under your arm.

"stealing?" he raised an eyebrow.

"borrowing." you corrected.

"without permission?" he tilted his head to the side in faux amusement, "i wonder what would happen if i alerted a professor about this."

"and you'd tell them what?" you scoffed, barely able to hold your laughter in, "that you saw me stealing while you were sneaking out to go for a casual wank?" what a fucking idiot. you rolled your eyes, turning away from him with the intention to walk away from the scene. you were not in the mood for his bullshit.

"yeah, yeah, run away like you always do." he uttered in disappointment, yawning. he knew exactly which buttons to push, and it wasn't surprising. you were familiar with each other's habits and emotions more than you'd like to admit. you stopped in your tracks. sighing, you set the books down onto the stone tiles, and spun around to face him once again.

"aguamenti." you cast the spell with an evil smile, and in a matter of seconds, a wave of water was shot straight in lorenzo's direction, leaving him soaking wet. he gasped out in shock; his clothes clung to his body. the water was unbearably cold, it was so fucking freezing, he could barely move. the commotion was noisy enough to alert filch and his beloved ms. norris, but those were the last of your worries. your felt rather fulfilled, that was what mattered.

"you asked for it." you shrugged, but did not turn your back on him just yet. that would have been the easiest way for him to attack, so you mistakenly waited, thinking he would strike for you. he dug his wand out of his pocket, and muttered a spell, "vermiculus."

you whipped your head in the direction in which he pointed his hand, realising what happened a second too late. he had turned your precious books into worms. you yelped in surprise and stepped away from the disgusting mess on the ground, your back bumping into his chest. you turned to face him and gave him a harsh push, backing him up into the wall and shoving your wand into his face.

"uncast it." you demanded. he laughed. how stupid did you have to be to even think that he'd listen to you, "no."

"berkshire." your words came out louder than expected. you wouldn't have been shocked if you saw a teacher coming around the corner to reprimand the both of you for looming around so late, but you didn't care.

"undo the damn spell." you repeated, just about ready to strangle him if you deemed it necessary.

"no." he pushed you away and took a hold of his own wand. he tried to disarm you, but failed miserabley. two could play at that game, then "stupif-"

"what's going on here?" filch's scratchy voice stopped you mid-spell. your head snapped towards him, and you instinctively stuck your wand inside of your clothes as if he hadn't already seen it. being too preoccupied by trying to come up with an explanation that you hadn't previously used to get yourself out of trouble, you had forgotten about the slimy creatures crawling on the floor. a worm wiggled towards you, too close for comfort, and you scrambled to get away, clumsily bumping into lorenzo once again. he gave you a somewhat gentle shove to get you away, and you kicked him in response, right in the shin.

"she tried to drown me." he explained with an irritated groan, rubbing the sore spot on his leg.

"he destroyed school property." you added dramatically, wishing to kick him one more time. filch's eyes trailed over to the filth beside your feet, and he made a face of disgust before instructing you both to follow him to dumbledore's office.

the whole ordeal ended with the books being safely returned to their spot on the shelves of the restricted section, a half-assed DADA assignment and the two of you getting put on bathroom cleaning duty for seven days straight (no magic allowed). it was probably the biggest mistake of dumbledore's life.

the bathrooms were not cleaned properly once. in fact, they'd only end up in conditions which were about ten times worse than their default ones. lorenzo was too busy spilling bucketfuls of water, dirty or clean, all over you to care whether he scrubbed the junk off every single sink there was (payback for the stunt you pulled on him in the corridor), and you were too busy hitting him with funny smelling toilet brushes (made sure you got all that rubbish into his hair, too) to polish the tiles and mirrors to perfection like you were told to do. it was disgusting and sickeningly entertaining at once. dumbledore considered punishing you with some other method, but gave up seeing what the boys' toilets looked like after night four. not even detention was able to come between the two of you. limits and common sense weren't either.

***

in your sixth year, the unimaginable happened. there wasn't a single soul who saw it coming, not even yourselves. maybe it was magic. maybe it was a sign from the universe. maybe some higher power did everybody justice. whatever it was, it sent your professors into a spiral. their shitty damage control was finally paying off, as cruel as it turned out to be.

classes had become increasingly more difficult than they were in previous years. to follow, to manage, to keep track of, and everything in between. mcgonagall had pulled you outside twice, asking you what was wrong after she had noticed that you were falling behind. many of your peers were, actually, but nobody would have ever expected it from you. the results you'd achieve weren't always as perfect as they were in your first year, though you had never struggled to get past eighty points until then. it was singlehandedly the worst thing that could have ever happened to you. priorities were hard to sort out, so there was a noticeable decline in your performance. you were absolutely miserable, and it did not get better, only worse. so bad that you had forgotten that you had a certain slytherin to compete with.

it was the day before halloween night, lessons had come to an end. your friends scattered around different places – some to the great hall, some to hogsmeade, some headed straight to bed, all intending to clear their minds after a stressful week of difficult assignments and dreadfully challenging essays. nearly every student left the transfiguration classroom with a relieved smile, happy that even their low scores ensured them a pass. hermione got a ridiculous amount of praise for her outstanding results, and even an encouraging pat on the back from mcgonagall.

so, a wonderful end of october for everybody but yourself. your expectations weren't high when you handed your toughest essay in. you thought you'd get sixty points at best. not hoping for much, yet still trying to ignore the worst possible outcome - one that was bound to get you someday like proper karma. but that wouldn't actually happen, would it? there was no way. it was impossible. you felt like a bloody idiot.

you failed. you fucking failed. for the first time in your life. and it was much more humiliating than you had imagined. you were so upset with yourself that you hadn't even bothered to pester lorenzo about his results, and strangely, he hadn't approached you either. no glances, no death glares, no hushed insults. not during the lesson, not after.

you left the transfiguration classroom trying your hardest not to cry, ignoring all of your friends and wishing to get out of the castle as soon as possible. you needed to be alone. you weren't looking for anybody's comfort, validation or their empty words of sympathy that would lose their meaning the moment you fixed the mess you were in. so you went to the black lake; where very little people preferred spending time, where you could be at peace with your own thoughts, and where you could catch a much needed break, even if it was only for a little while.

you slumped down onto the grass with a thump, bringing your knees up to your chest and letting your tears fall. you failed. for merlin's sake, you failed. it was like everything you had ever known was suddenly gone. you weren't even worried about what your parents or professors would say. truthfully, you couldn't give less of a damn. you were so disappointed that you had blocked out everything and everyone else, or whatever stupid opinion and solutions they might have had to offer. everyone, except for lorenzo and that dumb game you two were, for an even dumber reason, still playing. he must have been oh so happy to hear about your failure. he'd never let you live it down, you knew it.

"l/n?" speak of the fucking devil. he always had fantastic timing.

"get out of my sight before i throw you into the lake." you spat, wiping your tear-stained face with your sleeve, not looking at him.

"shiver me timbers." he sang, not feeling threatened at all.

"berkshire." you warned, turning your head towards him and meeting his gaze. you shouldn't have moved. worry flashed through his face for a brief moment when he caught a glimpse your puffy eyes, and he pressed his lips together, guilty. could he actually bring himself to pester you while you were in such a terrible condition? no, he couldn't, regardless of the resentment he felt towards you.

he cleared his throat and took a step closer. you sighed, staring back at the landscape spread out in front of you without uttering a word, "what happened?" he questioned hesitantly.

"nothing that concerns you." you attempted to shut him down. he raised both of his eyebrows, a little amused, "someone upset my favourite rival," he scoffed, "of course it concerns me."

you rolled your eyes, "just leave, will you?" but did you really want him to? your voice shook as you spoke. you despised the part of you that was wishing for him to stay. you wanted to be alone more than anything, but you knew you'd break down again if he listened to your plea and left you there. you'd take his overused insults over failure any day.

"not until you tell me what happened." your jaw clenched, and you muttered a quiet curse, knowing that he most likely wouldn't let up. as if that one would miss out on an opportunity to annoy you. he settled down in the grass, right next to you, waiting.

you sat in silence for what felt like forever. he didn't push you to speak again, and you were pretty reluctant to say a single thing. not even calling him names seemed tempting. you sighed for the nth time, starting to tear up again, "i got my essay back with thirty points." you sniffled, silently preparing yourself to get made fun of.

"fuck," you heard him mumble, and he scratched his head shortly before speaking, "if it makes you feel better, i got twenty eight." getting on your nerves was always in his best interest. although, having to see you so seriously upset was not on his bucket list, not anymore. you stared at him in shock, frowning, "what?"

he nodded. the look on his face was so sullen that you were starting to believe him, "are you not taking the piss?"

he snorted, "i wish i was," he avoided your gaze, "i, uh," he pursed his lips in thought, letting out a breath of frustration, "i was convinced i'd do well even if i started last minute... without research, but uh, guess i was wrong." you hummed, doubtful.

"why are you telling me all this?" you shook your head and trailed your eyes back to the lake, finding it rather difficult to believe that he was being so... nice. it was your first normal conversation and you had no clue what to make of it.

"who else am i supposed to tell it to?" he responded, annoyed. you bit the inside of your cheek, just as irritated, picking up a pebble. you examined it shortly before throwing it into the water.

lorenzo watched you curiously, having very little to say, which was terribly weird in itself. lorenzo berkshire not having a single unnecessary, offending comment to offer? your failures had truly taken a toll on you, completely.

"i can't believe we both fell off." you said in wonder, throwing another rock below the surface.

"right," he agreed, without an urge to backtalk, "fucking hell, i've no reason to hate you now." he blurted out, horrified by his own words.

"fantastic, now i suck at that too." you let out a dry, emotionless chuckle. you weren't crying anymore, just silently fuming at lorenzo for being the one to stop it without even properly trying.

"you suck at everything." he corrected.

"i take after you." you retorted nonchalantly.

"dumbass." he bit back a smile.

"dickhead." you were struggling just as hard. holding in your laughter was never more challenging, but you were determined not to break character.

you found yourselves in an eerily comfortable silence. by the looks of it, things would be alright. knowing that he messed up too somehow put you at ease. not even because you were happy to him fail, but more at the thought that it just happened to be at the same time as you. you found a certain dose of comfort in it. it was written in the stars, as it seemed.

"get lost now." you broke the bubble you found yourselves in. it was about time you got back on track. there was no way you'd get all friendly and gushy with him, even after whatever that was.

"alright, alright." he stood up, groaning as he did so. he dusted off the pieces of grass that got stuck to his trousers.

he stared back at the lake shortly, waiting to see if you'd say anything else he could offer a witty response to. he was a bit sad when you didn't, and he shoved his hands into the pockets of his trousers, sighing, "well, i shall see you-"

"never." you finished that for him.

"perfect." he added, turning on his heel and heading towards the castle. you allowed yourself to glimpse at him one last time, simply not being able to let him have the last word.

"you've got some on your arse." you were talking about the remainder of the grass that was stuck to his clothing. he stopped to clean it up, and then flipped you off wordlessly.

you thought that was the last of your civilised interactions. there was no reason for you to bore your mind with it. you happened to fall behind at the same time and it gave you a decent bonding moment, but it was nothing more than that. just two people who claimed they didn't like one another very much talking properly for once. nothing, it was nothing. simple as that. so you weren't able to pinpoint why you kept looking back on it nearly every day, or why you felt so guilty for calling him stupid and useless, or why making fun of him for getting a lower score than you wasn't rewarding anymore, or why competing so fiercly was no longer satisfactory. and why he too, happened to feel just the same. maybe you had grown out of it.

you blamed it on the stress. you did have lots of different things occupying your mind anyway - such as your major arithmancy exam that you decided to pull an all nighter for.

for the first time in a while, you stayed inside the library past closing hours. madam pince wasn't too happy about it, but she liked you enough to let you crash there and warned filch not to throw you outside if he happened to notice you during his nightly patrol. the woman had some interesting tactics up her sleeve, none of which you ever questioned.

you swore, probably for the tenth time in the past two minutes, crumpling up yet another piece of parchment. you had to start over a ridiculous amount of times. the pile of rubbish on the floor was growing larger by the second. ripped up paper, bottles of ink, broken feathers, it was definitely a sight. there was no way you were getting through all of that on your own. and oh how that angered you. you rarely ever needed assistance with anything, but this was just a little bit above your level. that enraged you even more. a helping hand was starting to sound promising.

"you're still here?" you didn't even flinch, knowing all too well who that voice belonged to. did god or the devil just answer your prayers? you never got past your little habits of leaving the dormitories to do whatever there was to be done around the castle almost every night, so there he went, running into you again. lorenzo peeked out from behind the bookshelves in front of you, smiling like a little kid who was just about to do something egregiously silly. you couldn't not grin back, despite being angry.

"you're still here?" you repeated his question, crossing your arms.

"i asked first." he moved towards your desk, pulling out an empty chair and settling there next to you without even asking if you wanted him there. weird, that one.

"alright, and?" you teased further. he bumped your shoulder with his own. he wanted something. punching him suddenly sounded like a fine option. he looked over your arm to examine your notes.

"arithmancy?" he glared at you, kind of bemused. it was another subject he was that awfully good at, unlike you. you weren't terrible, but not exactly the best either. an infuriating thing.

"my favourite." you responded sarcastically, throwing your quill across the table. he hummed, sitting back in his chair, but not taking his eyes off of you. he definitely wanted something.

"what?" you could sense it already. he was gonna mock you again.

"do you need help with that, perhaps?" or maybe not. you looked at him, skeptical.

"from you?" you raised an eyebrow.

"well, i mean, yeah." he shifted in his spot, as if he was anxious. you did a double take, and then burst out laughing, wiping away a non-existent tear. he was just too damn funny. him helping you? that was a good one. you carried on with that little performance of yours for the next minute until it hit you that he wasn't joking.

"are you serious?" you asked, just to confirm. there was absolutely no chance.

"look, i can leave-" he stood up, "no," you grabbed a fistful of his sweater and pulled him back down. he yelped, startled, "what's your deal?" you weren't letting him get away with that so easily.

"what do you mean?" he was geniuenly confused.

"don't play fucking dumb," you jabbed a finger into his chest, "why are you being so kind to me all of a sudden?"

he laughed uncomfortably, scratching the nape of his neck, "well, i thought, you know, since it seems like we're no longer on about hating each other, that-"

"oh." you interrupted him, chuckling in disbelief. you shook your head, rubbing your temples in frustration and then letting your arms fall to your sides, "look, berkshire, just because i'm not trying to kill you anymore doesn't mean i want to be friends."

"what!? for fuck's sake, you're impossible." he stood up once more, this time darting out of your reach.

"here we go again." you rolled your eyes. you just couldn't interact without quarreling, could you? he paced around inbetween the bookshelves before returning to your table, "you're not exactly giving me any reasons to be nice right now."

"i never asked of you to be nice." you argued.

"you could appreciate me trying." he retorted. you had no idea what on earth he was trying to achieve. you could only think of so many explanations, "why? so that you could gain my trust and then stab me in the back when it's convenient for you?"

"that's what this is about?" he muttered something under his breath, "i thought we were past that rubbish."

you wanted to laugh hysterically, "okay, we may have pushed the resentment aside, but you can't exactly expect me to trust you."

he understood that, unbeknownst to you, "i never said that you needed to trust me," he sighed, leaning over the table, "listen, i offered to help you because i can see you're struggling. i'm not here to sabotage you if that's what you're worried about. i'd be wasting my time." he straightened his posture, standing there with his arms crossed.

"because i'm already terrible enough and don't need anyone's interference to properly fuck up, right?" you were prepared to tell him to bugger off if he refused to give you the answer you were looking for, furious at him and yourself.

he paused, hesitant. you were so fucking stubborn, and he loved you for it, "correct." alright then.

you picked up your quill, "sit down."

you got your exam back with a shocking score of eighty-nine, surpassing even hermione. not lorenzo, but you were second, and that was enough to have your ego flying right back through the roof.

i told you you could do it, he said, but not without me, he had to point out. you had to give him that. how could you not? he casually decided to save your life without you even asking for it. if it weren't for him, you most likely would have majorly fucked up on that exam. that's not saying that it wasn't difficult. he had no patience and you had even less, but you had somehow survived that night in the library without biting each other's heads off or getting into any additional fights. he even followed you back to your dorm, an offer he didn't allow you to refuse and one that you were too exhausted to complain about.

in the few weeks that followed, you decided that it was for the best that you block out whatever happened between you that night. christmas holidays were approaching, and you couldn't let that ruin your mood. lorenzo told you that mattheo said that it was a shift in the matrix. you had no idea what that meant, it sounded horrifyingly muggle, but you agreed for the sake of agreeing. a shift in the matrix, bloody nonsense. a coincidence, you called it. an accident, even. an accident that helped you out tremendously and made you reconsider lorenzo on nights when you couldn't sleep, but still an accident. 

who were you kidding? something had definitely changed. other students started noticing it too.

you had gradually become somewhat friendly rivals who'd rub their own success into each other's faces for the laughs till they got threatened with a jinx or tickled to death. some occasional name calling too, just not as intense. but you weren't friends. nothing near it. you had done a pretty good job at convincing yourself you never would be. treating him a little better than usual was the farthest you'd go trying to mend all those years of jealousy and grudges. that was what you started living by, pushing away that strange tingling sensation that would coarse through you every time his hands happened to brush against yours when you walked side by side.

it is exactly why you almost spilled acidic liquid all over the table and burnt a hole in it again when he sat next to you during potions one fine afternoon.

snape was visibly mortified by the sight, partially because of that incident from two years prior (when you almost set the entire classroom on fire), and partially because he couldn't believe that mcgonagall was actually onto something when she purposefully failed you both. it would go down in history as one of the most ridiculous moments of his career. he sent a warning glare your way before beginning the lesson.

"excuse you?" you whispered once professor snape finally turned his back to the class, raising both of your eyebrows in question. was lorenzo asking to get violated?

"harry took my seat." he pointed towards the table where he usually sat. and shockingly enough, there was harry, sitting next to draco, for whatever sick and twisted reason. you gaped at them, then at lorenzo. not looking into that deeper was maybe for the better.

okay then. you didn't respond, trying to get into taking some notes like you were previously instructed. that would have been easy (it was for the first quarter of the lesson), if lorenzo's presence wasn't keeping you so alert, stopping you from focusing on what you deemed more important, "merlin, can you breathe a little quieter?" you snapped.

he purposely inhaled louder than he normally would, grinning proudly when your eyes rolled back into your brain. you kicked him under the table. he yelped, but oddly, covered it up with a cough. you glared at him, doubtful. that was not the reaction you were expecting to get.

you resumed trying to copy the crucial bits from the chapter snape assigned you all to analyse, very poorly. it was kind of impossible. you weren't used to having lorenzo sit so close to you for such an extended amount of time. ignoring him was unimaginably hard. your notes had never looked worse. words missing, constant mistakes, sensless scribbles. you reached for a new pot of ink after seeing that you had run out, and then felt his finger poke at your side.

you flinched, catching a glimpse of your professor who's head was still buried in the pile of assignments he needed to grade. he hadn't noticed you. good. but then lorenzo did it again, right where you were most ticklish, because he knew. you swatted his hand away, not missing the way he smiled to himself. little shit.

you reached to poke him too, and when you tried to pull away, he took a hold of your wrist, not letting go. he had a lot of good defense tactics up his sleeve. you didn't try to yank your arm out of his grip instantly, which was the perfect opportunity for him to tickle at your side with his free hand. this time, you held back a startled giggle, kicking him under the table one more time. he snorted, resuming his little game.

you were both sweating trying not to make too much noise, but neither of you was letting up, not letting the other have the satisfaction of winning. he eventually moved his chair closer to yours with the excuse to tickle you more effectively. your legs were touching under the table, but only because it was easier for you to kick him that way. it went on for at least fifteen minutes, until snape finally lifted his head, his eyes on the class. you separated, thinking you were being slick about it, when it was the least fitting explanation for what had been going on. the two of you had your lips pressed together, trying not to laugh. your professor could only sigh in response. at least you didn't set anything ablaze.

hermione tucked her arm under yours in the hallway when your lesson ended, grinning mischevously, "would you like to tell me what happened just now?" 

you scoffed, rolling your eyes playfully, "huh? i don't know what you're on about." you played dumb, despite knowing exactly what she was getting at. and you had no idea why. it's not like you had anything to hide.

"i think you do." she pushed. there was not a chance for you to get out of that conversation.

"really? i truly don't." you still tried, though. acting foolish was your only escape route.

"y/n." she dragged out, laughing and pulling you along with her. potions were your final lesson of the day, so you were already able to picture her desperate attempts to pull some information out of you all the way until bedtime.

"what? we were just fighting." you finally gave in. you knew you would have to eventually, but you loved your free time a little too much to let her annoying interrogation tactics drag on for so long.

"so you do know what i'm on about." she teased, scarily invested.

"what else could you possibly be on about?" you snapped, pushing away that uncomfortable feeling that settled in your chest. you had no reason not to tell her anything, so you couldn't pinpoint why you were feeling so guilty all of a sudden.

"the way you two sat closer together than every couple in our year?" she exclaimed, astonished by how shamelessly you were avoiding the subject.

you gasped, feeling a bit offended, or maybe called out. you couldn't tell which one it was, "that is not what happened." that was an overexaggaration if you ever heard one. was she out of her bloody mind? sometimes you thought that she enjoyed setting you off as much as lorenzo did.

you stepped through the portrait hole with the rest of your housemates, pushing through the crowd to get your dormitories faster. you wanted a nice shower, some peace and quiet for reading, and then decent sleep. it was that simple. you survived the walk through the common room without anyone asking additional invasive questions, immediately heading for the toilet once you arrived to your dorm.

you really needed that shower. it made you feel whole again. you stepped out after putting some comfortable clothes on, skipping over to your bed and then cursing out loud when you realised what was on it. amongst your own, there was lorenzo's fucking book. you had accidentally taken it when you scrambled to collect your things once class ended.

you could have just given it to him tomorrow, or not given it back at all. like he'd know who took it. it was incredibly tempting, but it also felt unnecessarily mean. what if he needed it to study that night? you brushed it off, not like it was your problem anyway. you sat down onto the mattress, picking up a novel from your nightstand and throwing the other books straight to the carpet so you could comfortably settle on your bed. you then put it back. you didn't feel like reading anymore. you laid there, thinking. peace was never an option in your world.

you groaned, snatching his book up from the floor and venturing back into the common room. you hadn't bothered to explain yourself to anybody, and you continued trotting over to the dungeons with a neutral expression on your face (neutral as in i am very much internally raging and if anybody tries to talk to me i might use the imperius curse on them). very useless it was, that relaxing shower of yours.

none of the slytherins lounging on the sofa questioned you, your appearance was pretty telling. good thing you ran into mattheo on the way there. getting in wouldn't have been so easy otherwise. you disappeared in the direction of their dormitories, stopping right in front of lorenzo's door. you swallowed harshly, begenning to get nervous. something was wrong with you.

you hesitated before knocking, tapping your foot against the ground furiously as you waited. "one second!" lorenzo yelled from the other side. it sounded like something had fallen over. the noise was followed by a few curse words and some shuffling before the door opened.

much to your dismay, you were met with a bare chested lorenzo, wearing nothing but a pair of trousers which loosely hung around his hips. his hair was wet, and his cheeks were a tinted with a light shade of pink. he had stepped out of the shower merely three minutes before you showed up. you inhaled sharply, swallowing the sound of surprise that almost escaped you and feeling your face heat up. his eyes went wide, given that he was taken aback much like yourself. you were the last person he was expecting to find on the other side of the door.

"hi." he greeted awkwardly, pulling his trousers up a bit as if it would help. you opened your mouth to speak, then closed it. opened it, before closing it again. you were pretty sure you resembled a damn fish. whatever was happening to you, you did not like it one bit.

"i- you- we- ithinkthisisyours." you finally spluttered, slamming the book into his chest. his hand touched yours momentarily when he grabbed it so that it wouldn't drop onto your feet. you felt lightheaded.

lorenzo was kind of freaking out, but only kind of, not even bothering to look at what you had given him at first. he was a little too busy staring at your blushing face, wondering what the hell was going on and why his heart was in his throat all of a sudden, "are you alright?" he queried, concerned.

"i am perfectly fine." that was a lie. 

"ah," he nodded, then eyed the piece of literature in his hands shortly as he slowly figured what it was, "oh! thank you."

you laughed in misery, "okay!" before shutting the door in your own face. you tripped and almost fell down the stairs as you ran, still flushed and your heart beating in a way that you found a little too unusual to push away.

you received a few judgemental glares from the students you had run past. the question marks were practically visible above their heads. you were too busy going hysterical to sneer at them for staring. you burst through the door of your dorm, breathless and blushing, "what the fuck?"

somewhere back inside the dungeons, a confused lorenzo turned to face his friends, still holding the book you had given to him. he had no idea what on earth happened, or why you reacted the way you did, or why he, deep down, found it more adorable than he'd like to admit. he groaned, falling face-first onto his bed. what the fuck, indeed. christmas holidays never looked more promising.

and oh how you regretted waiting for them with so much anticipation. you were supposed to get a break. from books, assignments, essays, whatever lorenzo was doing to you. hogwarts was supposed to be all yours. you weren't heading home that year. it was your parents' twentieth anniversary, so there was no point in going back, considering that you wouldn't see them (you didn't exactly have friends in your hometown either). they'd be having the time of their lives in the alps, and you'd be regretting every decision you had made up until that point.

not only because you were already bored out of your mind waiting for your friends to return, but because you saw lorenzo sitting at the slytherin table when you walked into the great hall on christmas eve. the image of him opening the door two weeks prior flashed through your mind. it happened often, in the most inconvenient situations too. you were hoping you didn't look too flushed.

"what are you doing here?" he questioned in amusement once you trotted over to him, an equally puzzled expression on your face. "i could ask you the same thing." 

"all in good time." he cleared his throat, awkward. it was weird, but you didn't think much of it just yet. instead you sighed, taking a quick look around, and then speaking, "my parents ditched me for a skiing trip."

he snorted, motioning over to the very empty seat beside him. you sat down, no thoughts behind it. he was the only person among the ones who stayed for the holidays who you knew enough to hold a conversation, so it's not like you had better options. besides, that was your chance to see if there was more to his sudden change in behaviour. you were unnerved at the idea of even having the desire to do such a thing.

"what's your excuse?" you reached over his arm to grab a piece of toast, as well as some jam and chocolate spread.

"parents as well." you didn't miss the way he shifted uncomfortably. you put down your knife and propped your arms on the table, eyeing him expectantly. he held back shortly, and you couldn't blame him. who were you to think that he'd trust you with a possible family issue?

"i was told that i'm a disappointment and i'm not allowed home until i get my grades in tact." he stabbed the bacon in his plate aggressively, not looking at you. your jaw dropped in shock.

"in tact?" you uttered in disbelief. it was practically common knowledge that lorenzo exceeded you in a lot of subjects, a little more than half of them actually, so in your mind, this shouldn't have even been a problem. he was one of the top students. everybody knew that. your parents expected you to do well too, but they weren't that pushy or strict. yeah, receiving a howler for momentarily falling behind in october was aggravating, but nothing that you couldn't bear. lorenzo's, however, were crossing a line.

he hummed, picking at his food, "don't say anything." he sighed, it almost sounded like a plea. he couldn't just ask you for comfort, or ask of you to understand. faux sympathy was the last thing he needed.

"no, it's just–" you chewed on the inside of your cheek and picked up your knife again, spreading some jam over the piece of toast you grabbed previously, "you're not a disappointment, that's bullshit." you bit into the crunchy bread, chewing it slowly, a sour expression on your face. lorenzo went a bit red, stumbling over his words before getting out a clumsy i know, followed by a hesitant thanks anyway. 

you said nothing for the remaining few minutes of breakfast, just eating in silence while other students chatted in background. when you were exiting the great hall together to return to your respective dorms, you made eye contact with mcgonagall for a brief moment. she offered you a proud smile, yet with a hint of mischief behind it. you had never been more confused.

you spent the first half of christmas day alone in the gryffindor common room, reading some trashy muggle romance novel you found under hermione's bed a couple of nights before. it was one of the worst books you had ever picked up, but there was something so annoyingly addicting about it that you just couldn't give it up. it left you feeling empty and lonely, and with a strong desire to fling yourself straight into the depths of the black lake.

"christ, l/n, why do you look so sullen?" you shut your eyes, exhaling through your nose. just what you needed. you weren't even gonna question lorenzo was doing there. you had a clue.

"you don't wanna know." you tossed the book across the room, internally celebrating when he decided not to investigate further.

he made a face, "merry christmas?"

"likewise." you replied blandly. when you didn't tell him to get lost, he jumped onto the sofa, getting comfortable next to you. he didn't look all too happy either.

you sat there for good twenty minutes, staring at the fire like your entire worlds were crumbling in front of your eyes. it didn't occur to the either of you how awful it would feel to spend christmas all alone for the first time. no presents, no childhood foods, no hugs from mum in the morning. you even missed your spoiled cousins who would nag you to play with them each time you visited their house on boxing day.

it fucking sucked, but god, at least lorenzo was there. you'd push aside everything that happened between you in the previous years just for a twinge of affection. something came over you, and you lowered your head onto his shoulder, almost sighing in relief when he didn't shove you away. he scooted closer and rested his head on top of yours, not speaking.

from that moment onward, you saw each other every day. he'd show up at your dorm at random moments and you'd show up at his at even worse ones. you'd take walks in the snow together and come back with soaking wet clothes and red noses. you'd smoke in the courtyard before bed after making sure the coast was clear. you'd go to hogsmeade and fight over who was gonna pay for the butterbeer until you came up with a nonsensical compromise. you'd sneak out at night to steal books from the restricted section of the library and then read them under covers in the slytherin dorms. you'd sometimes fall asleep next to each other and then act like nothing happened in the morning.

***

you expected it all to fade to nothing once everybody else came back to hogwarts, but then it didn't. you still took walks in the snow and argued over butterbeer and snuck out after midnight (and had to clean several toilets after getting caught almost every time). he still helped you with arithmancy without asking for anything in return, and you'd sometimes kiss him on the cheek if you were in a good mood. you thrived off of the expressions that would paint his face whenever you did that.

but with the return of other students also came whispers and rumours, following you around like shadows. you ignored them tactfully, not wanting to give anybody the satisfaction of confirming that their silly theories may have been right all along. especially not hermione. she wouldn't let you forget that until you perished. she'd probably leave a note on your grave too, so you'd have that humiliating reminder haunting you in the afterlife.

"i thought you two hated each other." mattheo deadpanned one evening after lorenzo had brought you to the slytherin common room, straight into the damn snake pit. you were squashed together on the sofa, a large book splayed open across your laps, not getting read. it was one of the stolen ones. all of his friends were there, watching you like hawks.

"we do." you responded nonchalantly, taking the cigarette that lorenzo handed you. you took a long drag before putting it back between his lips.

"then why do you spend so much time together?" draco was very obviously judging you. he of all people should have understood. lorenzo rolled his eyes.

"you are in no place to talk, mister i hate potter but snog him in my off time." blaise took your side, bless his soul, and tossed theodore's shoe in his direction. shutting draco up was easier than you would have thought.

"no, but why?" mattheo repeated draco's question, propping his chin up into his palm and observing you curiously.

"maybe, they're– wait, what do you call that?" theodore leaned into pansy, hoping she had an answer.

"masochists?" she replied casually and lit a cigarette herself.

you choked on your spit. lorenzo almost burnt a hole in the sofa. but then pansy brushed her friend off, staring at the two of you with a mischievous grin, "not really, i think they're just bad liars."

and she was so bloody right. hate was the last thing that could be used to describe your relationship. third year you's biggest nightmare was a better label for it, given that you couldn't even be in the same room as him without trying to turn him into something nasty.

present day you was having a difficult time stopping herself from trying to kiss him whenever he was in her presence. it was that fucking frustrating. you couldn't believe yourself. lorenzo was facing the same struggles, and you couldn't tell if he was worsening or subduing the tension by randomly touching you. not like you minded, you were loving it all and stopped bothering with trying to hide it from him. your ego may have been large, but your crush on him ended up being bigger.

potions class was usually the height of it all, although it wasn't the only period during which you got to sit next to your favourite rival. mcgonagall was was thriving, unlike snape, who simply could not get used to the positive energy surrounding you, or the way you were together each time he crossed your paths. seeing pure fear flash through his eyes at the beginning of every class was hilarious.

when lorenzo arrived, you felt yourself starting to smile and tried to push it away with the most unsettling thoughts you could muster. it did nothing. he sat down with a dramatic groan, and immediately started ranting about some minor issue he had run into that morning. he did that a lot. this time it was about his favourite pair of socks going missing. you sucked in practically everything he said, chuckled at the random curses, noticed every breath of frustration he released as he was rummaging through his bag. you didn't realise you were staring. lorenzo did, but he didn't comment on it. he liked when you were looking at him.

you failed to regsiter that the lesson officially began, but not much was happening, really. snape was telling you about felix felicis and how insanely difficult it was to make, while you were required to write down the most useful bits of the information he was giving out. when he finally sat down after assigning you to read an overly long passage, lorenzo shifted closer to you. you eyed him, puzzled.

"would you kill me if i asked you for a favour?" you focused half of your attention on the writing, half on him.

"depends what the favour is." you shrugged. he put his arm over the text to prevent you from reading. he wanted you to look at him. he had always wanted you to look at him. from the very moment your fued set off, it was one of those little annoying things that made your hatred for him stronger. not anymore, but it was still infuriating in its own way. you gave him your full attention. he may have seen some sparks fly. you had each other wrapped around your little fingers without even realising it.

he shifted even closer to you so that you could hear him better, considering that he had to whisper, "can you come to hogsmeade with me today?" his breath fanned over your ear as he spoke. you didn't respond, so he continued, "none of my friends want to and it would be stupid if i went alone. you do kind of owe me." ah, yes. for that time he saved you from detention after slughorn caught you two smoking in the astronomy tower. you shot him with an annoyed look. you both knew it was exaggerated and what your answer would be, yet you still played around with it. that's the way things went. he smirked. bitch.

"fine." he was so smug about it, you could choke him and snog him at the same time. he got his arm away from your textbook, but didn't retrieve his chair. you were squeezed next to one another despite having more than enough space. your arms were touching, and so were your legs beneath the table. you moved not a muscle, and neither did he. you had grown to like having him sit so close to you. it made you feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside, helping you ignore the freezing winter air and the thick layer of snow covering the ground outside.

you met him in the courtyard after a quick change of clothing following the end of your classes for that week. when hermione asked you where you were heading and why you won't be staying in the common room with the rest of your friends, you told a half truth. that you were heading to hogsmeade, but then bolted out the door before she was able to ask with whom. she would guess either way.

"i forgot to ask you why we were doing this in the first place." you spoke as you left the school grounds, your hands shoved into your pockets and your face hidden inside of your fluffy scarf. you were a little cold. lorenzo was too, his nose was already going red. it was an adorable sight to see, but you weren't dumb enough to say that out loud.

"i wanna pick up a few poetry books." you bit your tongue, trying not to laugh at him.

"didn't know you could read." you snickered, it was stronger than you.

"you're so original," he mocked, "they're not for me. pansy's birthday's coming up so i figured i should get her something."

"oh." the disappointment in your tone was obvious.

all of your willingness to go with him left you in an instant. his presence was more irritating than ever. he furrowed his eyebrows as he watched you chew on the inside of your cheek, wondering if he said something wrong. again... or not. lorenzo was smarter than that.

"what, are you jealous?" he nudged you, teasing. yes. you hated yourself just a tiny bit for that, "no," you scoffed, "in your dreams, berkshire."

"we both know you can't fool me." he kept the act going. you gave him a shove, making him stumble. he almost tripped and fell in a pile of snow. it was very funny. he tried to get back at you, but you slipped out of his reach, laughing when he began chasing you.

spending time with him was like a getaway from all the things that drove you mad, even though he sometimes excelled at that. he became a friend you didn't know you needed and a friend you were pretty sure you were catching some major feelings for.

you entered the bookstore as your unplanned snowball fight came to an end, its warmth immediately engulfing you. after being in the cold for longer than intended, it was just what you desired. you stuck with lorenzo for the first few minutes, helping him out and leading him away from the large isle of erotic novels he accidentally found himself in. people were looking at you weird, especially your schoolmates, so you stepped away from the crowded bits of the shop and decided to check out different sections.

a certain book had caught your eye – its contents intrigued you, but the price did something opposite. you put it back on the shelf without second guessing yourself. you hadn't brought any money with you. you continued roaming through the different isles, browsing through various books while you waited for lorenzo to finish. you lost sight of him for a few minutes, too busy debating whether to make him come back with you here some other time so you could purchase whatever your heart desired.

for the time being, you'd have to leave the shop with empty hands. lorenzo was luckier and ended up getting five poetry books which all seemed to be written by the same author, except for one. he handed you the odd one out. you opened your mouth, ready to complain about your fingers being cold and not wanting to carry it. slowly, you realised what it was. your jaw dropped a little.

he had seen you looking at it ever so longingly when he went to check up on you after realising you had gone off on your own. he picked it up without hesitation. you were too stunned to thank him, too stunned to say anything, for the matter. but he wasn't exactly expecting a thank you. he was just happy that you liked it, grinning when you blushed and struggled to keep it cool.

"you shouldn't have done that." you chastised. those were the only words you could muster. he rolled his eyes, "deal with it."

you punched his shoulder. he didn't even flinch, "you're welcome."

when he threatened to ruin your life when you were twelve years old, this wasn't how you thought it would happen.

"i'm gonna kill you." you weren't exactly addressing him, more like talking to yourself.

"you're still on about that?" he huffed, pretending to be bored.

"lorenzo!" you groaned, he chuckled, "i love you too." your eyes almost popped out of their sockets. his weird confession seemed unserious, but your heart still fluttered. little did you know that he wasn't as oblivious as you imagined.

he was positively glowing at the reactions he was getting from you. his tiny year five crush on you had blossomed into something stronger after that moment at the lake a couple of months prior, and at last, the possibility of you feeling the same wasn't looking so small. if only you saw through his actions. all those offers of help, and his complete dismissal of your rivarly, and his clinginess, and how he stuck to you like glue whenever he got the opportunity.

your walk back to the castle surprisingly wasn't silent. you were chatting quietly, snickering amongst yourselves. your shoulders brushed occasionally, and so did your hands, and you thought your heart might burst. you shivered as the wind got stronger, pressing yourself a little closer to him.

"you okay?"

"huh?" you didn't register what he said at first, "oh, yes. just a little cold, that's all." you explained, not taking your eyes away from the pathway you were pacing across.

"let's hurry up, then." he took a hold of your hand, swiftly leading you back to the castle. you were so, royally fucked. you clutched onto the poetry book tightly, focused on regulating your breathing. your entire face was on fire, your breaths ragged, heart beating rapidly against your ribcage.

four days later, you caught a terrible cold after accidentally falling asleep by the window while you were reading. hermione said that she expected better from you. she was fantastic help. you were pretty sure you were dying. your limbs hurt. your head was throbbing. your sinuses were clogged. your throat felt like someone had stuck a knife into it. but did you skip any lessons because of it or at least visit madam pomfrey to see if she could do anything? no, you weren't that helpless. you'd deal with it on your own.

or try to, at least. you stumbled into class resembling a zombie, eager to sit down and hopefully not do much work for the day. you placed your arms on the desk, laying your head into them and shutting your eyes. you opened them only a few seconds later when lorenzo shifted next to you. you were met with his worried face, just a couple of centimeters away from yours. when you didn't budge, he touched your cheek with the back of his hand, frowning.

"you're burning up." he kept his voice down, but his tone was giving away the fact that your state concerned him greatly. you waved a dismissive hand, closing your eyes again. he poked you to make you look at him.

"have you went to madam pomfrey?" he questioned. you shook your head. if looks could kill, his probably would have.

"i'll go later." you reassured him poorly, just to get him to stop. the last thing you needed was getting all flustered and emotional because he was showing more interest in taking care of you than anybody else in your circle of friends.

"your later usually means never," he was right. you hated that. you grunted, hiding your reddening face. that was both from the fever and from him, "hey." he threw his arm around you when he didn't get a resonse. you leaned into his touch faster than you thought you would, just searching for any sort of warmth there was.

other students were giggling, but he couldn't care less, "y/n."

you lifted your head again, and then allowed it to fall against his shoulder. mcgonagall stepped through the classroom door shortly after that, her mouth dropping a little when she saw the position you were in. she was gonna scold you for displaying your affection so publicly, but lorenzo quickly explained the situation, and before you were able to protest, she shooed the both of you outside.

he immediately intertwined your fingers, walking at a slower pace than usual, not wanting to tire you more. as annoyed as that made you, you didn't pull your hand away, and instead kept your body close to his. he was muttering something, scolding you for being so dismissive and not getting this fixed right away. you were too exhausted to argue, but he was right anyway.

you inhaled sharply as your headache increased in intensity, latching onto his arm and stopping in your tracks. you shut you eyes, thinking it would help and ease it a bit. you felt him move to stand in front of you. his forehead fell against yours and his hands cupped your cheeks gently. you held onto him, taking a few deep breaths through your nose. his thumbs grazed over your skin ever so slightly, as if that his was his way of trying to soothe you.

eventually, your eyes fluttered open, but neither of you let the other go. lorenzo broke the silence between you, "you're so bloody stubborn."

"you're one to talk." you chuckled dryly, hugging him a bit tighter. he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, waiting for you to give him a sign that you were ready to walk again. when you nodded, he took your hand again, leading you to the hospital wing.

madam pomfrey had you going back to normal with a simple flick of her wand after a tiny scolding, and then she pinched lorenzo's cheek and called him a "good boy" for being so caring. the unexpected praise had his eyes going wide and he was blushing madly – you were never gonna let him forget that one.

she instructed you to come back if the cold returned, but she was addressing lorenzo more than she was you. a smart move on her part, the older woman knew you and your headstrong ways well enough. she ushered you out only after she made sure were in perfect shape to head back to class, though you couldn't do it without rubbing her comment into lorenzo face until he turned completely red again. he had to tickle you to get you to stop and you caused a bit of a commotion in the silent corridors, but that didn't matter. you returned to the transfiguration classroom with your pinkies intertwined, all eyes on you. you two really needed to talk.

and what are the odds of him being caring enough to check up on you later that day. he knew he wouldn't find you in your dorm, or the common room, or the library, or the astronomy tower. instead, he headed to the only other place on his mind, where the two of you often hung out on nights when neither of you could sleep.

you were sat on one of the stone walls in the courtyard, a cigarette in your hand, kind of forgotten. you hadn't noticed that it was burning out, or the occasional ash landing on your clothes. your thoughts were going places, recalling the many events that occured during the past few months, and what on earth you were going to do about your feelings. you could hide them from your friends for some time, but not from lorenzo. you blew out a frustrated breath, pinching the bridge of your nose. being straightforward with that idiot was always easy. you never had trouble with telling him exactly what you meant. 

the fact that you were anxious about it now was the most maddening thing in the world.

"what a depressing sight." you flinched, whipping your head in lorenzo's direction almost instantly. you couldn't tell if that was luck or misfortune. you snorted, rolling your eyes and offering him the remainder of your cigarette. he gladly took it, joining you in silence.

"why are you here?" you questioned.

"came to check up on you." he replied.

"i can take care of myself just fine." you patted his back. he seemed unphased. of course he was, he knew he'd win that argument.

you glimpsed up at the sky shortly. it was snowing just a little bit. you turned to lorenzo, a pleading expression on your face, "walk with me?"

he nodded, tossing the cigarette butt into the snow. you left the school grounds once again knowing that you wouldn't make it back before curfew, but that wasn't something the either of you dwelled on very much. there were more important things to get worried about.

it was obvious that you kept dodging the subject, settling for talking about things so insignificant that you would probably tell somebody to shut up if they brought them up in conversation on a normal day. being ballsy wasn't your thing anymore, as it seemed.

as cowardly as you felt, the sore winner in you wasn't letting you back down. a long internal debate and a silent minute of self-deprecation was what it took to make you finally speak your mind... to an extent, "have you ever felt incredibly guilty about being wrong about someone?"

lorenzo stared at you as if you were insane. it was a little too early on in the conversation for him to start connecting the dots. his street-smarts were sometimes lacking.

"you sure your cold didn't come back?" he pressed his hand against your forehead. you let out a startled laugh, observing his questioning face.

"what?" you spluttered, shoving your hands further into your pockets. the skeptical look in his eyes was making you nervous.

"you're admitting that you were wrong about something?" he sounded unconvinced, but there was a hint of jest in his voice.

you bit your tongue, clearing your throat awkwardly, "yes." you breathed out. he nodded, a way to tell you to go on. he was definitely interested. you were beginning to suspect that he already knew what you were gonna say.

"i mean," you grunted, cursing quietly, "you know when you spend years convinced that somebody is an awful person and claiming you hate their guts but then end up realising that they aren't nearly as terrible as you thought when you get to know them properly?" you explained frustratedly, resisting the temptation to kick the snow piling at your feet.

his mouth fell open in surprise for a moment, but he quickly shut it, running a hand through his hair, "uh, yeah, actually." he uttered nervously, scanning your face for any sign of humour. but you weren't playing around, and certainly not lying. he had been around you enough to be able to tell when you were being truthful.

you gave him a brief nod, looking everywhere but at him. you barely noticed that your hands were shaking. you contined walking on, not saying a single thing. if he were to tell you that he could hear your heart beating, you wouldn't even have the time to act surprised.

"i have to tell you something." he stopped in his tracks, grabbing your elbow in order to make your steps halt. you faced him, looking down at your feet, waiting for him to drop the bomb. he chewed on his lip anxiously, running a hand through his hair.

"i, um," he was struggling, not exactly knowing how to begin. how to formulate that sentence, even. he wished he could just show you. he reached to take your hand, and you let him, standing there motionless.

it was his turn to panic, "i- fuck." he met your gaze. you knew that look. you knew that bloody look he gave you when you were both thinking the same thing. two years prior it would have been something along the lines of i want to kill you. but it had turned into something that was a lot closer to i want to kiss you. you wanted to fucking cry. 

you nodded, breathing out and blinking your tears away. he almost sighed in relief, cupping your cheeks, and that's when your lips pressed against the last pair of lips you thought you'd ever be kissing.

you reached up to touch his face – that pretty face you once hated the sight of, but then couldn't get enough of. you pulled back only for a moment, only to connect again, neither letting the other go. your kisses were unhurried, soft, and loving, despite months upon months of pining, despite the years of pent up hate that was, at the end of day, sort of bound to blossom into love.

at the end of your seventh year, when you were leaving hogwarts hand in hand, mcgonagall stopped you on the way out. it was only then that she told you what had actually happened that gloomy day october, the one that practically sealed your fates for eternity. the overflow of different emotions was too strong for you to have time to act shocked, and you pulled the woman into a big hug, thanking her with teary eyes. for putting up with you for so many years, and for managing to do the unimaginable.

[shiroforest]

In Shigaraki's psyche, Izuku saw a memory that's neither his nor Shigaraki's, and that memory is actually AFO's.

It's from 1st person point of view, in there, AFO seems to be acquainted with Shigaraki's Father, and AFO apparently worked in construction in Koga city (idk what 甲賀建設 Exactly means, but 建設 means construction or establishment, and 甲賀 is a city in Shiga Prefecture, and it's pretty close to Shizuoka Prefecture, where Izuku&his mom live)

Then AFO invited Shigaraki's Father over a drink, and asked about Shigaraki's quirk, to which his father said it still hasn't appeared/identified yet

You know what this means???

AFO must've LIVED A NORMAL LIVE sometimes to get acquainted with Shigaraki's Father while also monitor him!! Due to his connection with Nana.

And AFO asking about Shigaraki's quirk can either means he's monitoring if "Decay" has developed OR if Shigaraki can be GIVEN "Decay" later on.

This might also indicate that AFO also acquainted with Shimura household as a normal person, and if this shadowed figure with suits whom looked like AFO is indeed AFO, then it must've been like a family friend escorting the son back home

Anyway, AFO finally came out of Shigaraki's suppression, now we can see some Izuku and AFO interaction and maybe a confirmation about the validity of DFO theory!!!!

*it's also suspicious Izuku still DIDN'T GET TO SEE AFO's full face even from AFO's memory

**out of context, but AFO in his memory asked if Shigaraki's father had a lower back pain, and offered to introduce him to a good doctor, and i can't help but think "lol, it's just gonna be dr. Garaki isn't it? And he probably gonna order Garaki to do something to the only son of Nana" and the fact that AFO spoke to Shigaraki's Father SO POLITELY/using keigo (敬語) is weirdly nice, I'd like to see him speaks normally FULL FACE

***the irony of the villain who wrecked havoc in the country, might also once worked in construction of all places. Though it can be reasoned with "in order to destroy thoroughly, one must know how to built"

[seahoe]

lmao my ego is taking a beating

[queerism1969]

What is something about being LGBT that a straight person would never guess is a thing you have to deal with on a regular basis?

People asking how you have sex

Once you come out, you never truly stop coming out.

Being queer means that you are going to be really lonely a lot of the time.

The mini internal debate you have every time you tell a story about your SO. Do I say friend or girlfriend? Have I come out to this person yet?

People ask if I know X person because they're also gay.

When you're gay, there's a very real chance your Significant Other will not have a family to bring you into.

Any expression of my sexuality is "being in your face about it" and "it shouldn't be your whole personality".

Everyone had an opinion about my mere existence.

People legitimately question the validity of your relationship, and whether it's just a phase-especially if you're bisexual

Straight people always want to know what your type is. It always feels like a test to see if you find them attractive.

How to properly have sex. They REALLY don't teach you that in sex education.

You never know who is secretly homophobic whether at work or in public, so you always have to act "straight" in a lot of situations

You get sick of never being represented in media, but straight people don't really get it.

Getting polite service is difficult.

Office workers will sometimes purposely send you on goose chases because they don’t want to serve you.

Before y'all knew I was gay, you talked a lot of smack about "the gays." You don't remember, but I remember. I will always remember.

Losing nail clippers can really harm a relationship.

Being queer sometimes feels like being a 30-something-year-old teenager in a community full of 30-something teenagers and weirdly grown-up kids who’ve been living on their own since being kicked out by their bigoted parents at 16.

We have to constantly police our language.

The shame/internalized homophobia.

Your right to exist being a political debate

Wondering when the Supreme Court will revoke my rights.

You can’t really just have sex on a whim... You have to spend time (a lot more than you think) to clean.

While closeted, probably the weight of the secret or the fear of someone finding out.

A gay person will watch any TV show or movie, no matter how bad, if they hear there is even a slice of positive gay representation in it.

When a gay couple kisses in public, people stare. Not even out of disgust or anything, but just because it’s still kind of foreign to them.

You can't always go to the place you want for your honeymoon, because you might get killed

Being described as someone’s “gay best friend” and not just their best friend.

Every time we tell someone we have a partner, and it catches them off-guard, they proceed to tell me about a gay person they know.

The doctor is always super surprised as to how we can be both sexually active and be 100% sure that we are not pregnant

People force you to come out, and they act like they’re doing you a favor.

You have to be prepared to lose any friendship at the drop of a hat

Every couple of years or so, we get a random homophobic death threat on social from someone we've never interacted with.

[moons-of-dewclan]

Out of curiosity, how many times has one of your favorites died? Darkpaw died once in Surfclan and I reset that so fast, I couldn't stand losing my sea urchin baby.

antler you're so valid. and with your question i'm about to confess something.... snff... after my first playthrough, i played up to moon 50 and then entirely restarted from moon 16?? i think?? AND DO YOU KNOW WHY!!!.. VANILLABRIGHT AND NETTLE d I E D. NOW is this absolutely doable and could that make for a great plot?? YES!! am i absolutely insane and unable to force my characters in an even slightly out of character direction- ALSO YES!! Lyre would have 100% just withered away. he's not well enough to trudge on with no support system. and,, i'm not well enough to write normally apparently LKASDLKN?? so i couldn't just write him recovering from that bc 'i knowww he couldn't' I FORCED IT ANYWAY and the result was a very inauthentic feeling (moreso than tailoring the events), and heavily depressing story where the main happy point was lyre dying of old age and reuniting with nettle. and i said 'wow i don't wanna draw this lmao' SO!! i decided to restart instead of just putting the comic down. and i transferred my cats over and i've been more careful with patrols. i love the drama that clangen can bring with random deaths, but i love my characters too, and my main enjoyment in story writing is writing characters recovering from or overcoming harshness, not just experiencing that endless pain. SO I DON'T.. WANNA HIT EM WITH THAT MUCH At least not that soon lmao HAHAHA (i am still Kind of Evil) i have ignored a few deaths bc they seemed weirdly out of pocket too tho. ONE OF THE KITS GOT EATEN BY MICE????? NO LAKSND

[huh-i-guess]

The Consequences of an Action

(Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader x Captain John Price)

Summary: You disobey Ghost which pushes him and Price to their breaking points. They show you how they really feel about the matter in a training session and the locker room.

Warnings: SMUT 18+, daddy kink, sir kink (?), threesome, mean Ghost, mild violence (they spar), power imbalance (?), hella pet names, unprotected sex (wrap da ting before you tap da ting), also unedited sooo yeah that's a warning in itself

Word count: ~5.8k

I don't not own MW2, the characters, or the gifs above. 

Author’s note: Imma keep it a buck with y’all and say that this took me 3 days to write and I was horny the entire time. This is completely unhinged and self indulgent. Also the reader has a code name which is pepper, kinda a brat too. This is. Filth. I was giggling and kicking my feet the entire time writing it. I hope y’all enjoy reading *insert wet sloppy kiss to the cheek* also please do not repost this. I have only posted this on wattpad and here. 

- - -

“What the fuck was that?!” Ghost belted at you as you and 141 barged into the debrief room. Ghost had been fuming after he made a call out in the field that you blatantly ignored in hopes of fleeing a tight situation that involved you, Soap, and a decent number of cartel members. 

“I SAVED JOHNNY’S LIFE.” You barked.

“YOU WOULDN'T HAVE BEEN IN THAT LITTLE PREDICAMENT IF YOU’D’VE LISTENED TO ME.”

“Soap, Gaz, please back me up, you know that call was shit and-”

“Pep, you could have really gotten hurt. Lt’s right on this”, Gaz reluctantly answered, avoiding your gaze. 

“I KNOW I BLOODY AM.” You could feel the heat blooming off of Ghost as he stomped behind you. He’s a fucking furnace, you thought.

“You weren't even out there with us. We were surrounded and backed into a corner” You pushed at Simon trying to validate your reasoning to the group as you attempted to make eye contact with Soap, hoping he would back you up. 

“I dont give a damn y/n-” Ghost pressed as Price burst into the room. 

“OYE. Everyone out. We’ll have a proper debrief at 0900 hours. Ghost, Pepper, where you are.” Your anger calmed slightly when Price came in but the leftover adrenaline from the mission shifted into something that made you clench your thighs at the sight of your Captain. Price? Nope, let's not think about him in that way even though he walks into a room and commands everything in his wake but back to getting reprimanded by these large men.   

A grumble of “yes captains” filled the room as the rest of 141 exited the room Alejandro included.

“Pepper. What the hell were you thinking?” Price probed with a hint of concern in his voice as his eyes softened. 

“She wasn't sir.”

“I can speak for myself, Simon.” You whipped at the massive shadow placed next to you. 

“Knock it off. I saw what you did. Honestly, I understand the thought process, barely, but you were watching out for Soap.,” he paused with a sigh, “ Listen, you are a valuable member of this team. I picked you out myself but I didn’t choose you for your sense of heroism. I chose you because you’re a clean marksman, undeniable in hand to hand and a laundry list of other things. Simon made that call because he was watching your back, just like you were for soap. You need to trust each other and knock off this… animosity or whatever you two have going on.”  You tossed a glare next to you at Ghost. His eyes already bore into yours. They had an unrecognizable flicker in them that made you want to slap him across the face. 

“I understand that you two just got back from the field but drop your gear off at your rooms and make your way to the training room. Now.” There were not a lot of men that you enjoyed taking commands from but something about Price had you weirdly… obedient. You and Ghost passed an angry glare at each other then turned your attention to Price. Nodding a firm Yessir before rushing to your rooms. 

Price was right about Simon wanting to help but he's always so cold to you and quick to invalidate you. Why is he always so quick to challenge you? Yeah you might’ve been wrong but he always has a problem with something you do and why is Price just now bringing it up? You two have been bickering like this for months now. You drop your things off at your room and quickly wash up. You put on some training clothes and snatched your hair out of that dreadful military bun and let your (hair type) breath for just a moment knowing that it’ll have to put it back into a pony when you fuck up Ghost. 

Price and Ghost are conversing when you arrive at the empty training room, stopping their conversation upon your entrance. They both eye you with something deep in their eyes but you quickly chalk it off as irritation or frustration. You make your way over to the bench next to Price and take a seat. “Simon, have a sit down.” Ghost hesitantly sits next to you on the small bench forcing his thighs to touch yours as you give him a dirty look. “Welcome to couples therapy. I don't care what happens in this room when I am done speaking but know that I will be observing the two of you. Anything that happens in here, stays in here and will be off the books and the record as long as no one is injured.”

“I won't be making any promises Price.”

“Simon, (y/n) it's been 9 months now. I thought you lot would have figured it out by now but clearly not. I’m gonna sit here and let you two do whatever you want. Do NOT kill each other.” Price orders as he leans back against the wall. 

“Get up.” Simon demands as he makes his way to the mat in the middle of the room.

“Stop giving me orders” 

“I won't ask again. I will not hesitate to throw you into this ring.” 

“Fuck you.” You ponder upon the idea of being tossed over Simon’s shoulder and popped on the ass but the thought is ripped from your mind as Price clears his throat. You make your way into the ring as you hear a snarky hmph from Ghost. You peer up at him and your attitude mildly flatters as you take in his size. You knew he was a big man but holy shit. You've only stolen glances of his body but never really gotten to look at him this in depth. The dingy light of the training room makes him look even more intimidating. He has on a tight short sleeve compression shirt that squeezes his body in just the right way with a pair of deep grey sweatpants that cling to his thighs deliciously and a plain black balaclava on his face. His 6’4 frame towers over you and you fight to compose yourself. You look over to Price and throw a “Is this really necessary?” over his way before you feel yourself swept off your feet. You tumble backwards and feel 250 lbs landing on you. “WHAT THE FUCK RILEY! I WASN'T READY YOU DICKHEAD”  You cry out. 

“You stepped into the ring, that meant you were ready princess.” You struggle to slip your left arm and leg under his body in an attempt to roll him off you but you are met with massive resistance seeing that he weighs that of a small bear. “Fuck off of me Simon.” You spit venomously while pressed under him.

“There is no way you are tapping that easily. We just started Pep. Come on, show me why you are so mad at me.” He taunts. You wrap your leg across his back and throw all of your weight up and over and take him with you. He grunts as you flip positions and land in his lap. You roll backwards and off of him in an attempt to put some distance between the two of you and once you are on your feet, he is charging at you again. This time you are ready as he leans at you with his left fist, you duck to your left and reach up to punch his sternum. He might be much larger than you but your size allows for more agility and speed. He groans and furrows his brow as he stumbles backward, surprised that you landed a hit on him. 

“You big oaf.” You hear Price chuckle in the background. You run at him and kick the side of his thigh hearing him hiss at the contact, ready to land another blow to his ribs you jump up and knee his stomach. He blocks the knee and shoves you backward. He comes at you quickly and hits you in your stomach. The two of you exchange more hits until you land a hit on his side before he literally picks you up by your waist and throws you over his shoulder. You hit his back with your hands as he carries you like you weigh nothing. “Simon! NOT FAIR! PUT ME DOWN” You look over at Price who is leaning forward on his bench with a cigar lit and a smirk on his face. 

“You are such a whiny little brat” Simon says as he smacks your ass. You stiffen up on his shoulder and curse out another fuck you as you feel your face heating up. He puts you down and lets out a hearty chuckle as you try to regain a sense of dominance and self control. Did you enjoy that… 

“Price? He’s not allowed to do that, right?” 

“Pep, I'm just here to observe love. Make him pay for it.” He shrugs and readjusts in his seat. You look over to Ghost who you can tell is grinning like a Cheshire cat under his mask. You charge at him again breathing heavily and shove all of your weight towards him to knock him off balance, he stumbles but doesn't fall. The two of you land more punches and somehow end up on the ground. You have him in a variation of a chokehold where his arms are above his head and your legs are wrapped around his waist. You apply pressure in an attempt to get him to yield but he somehow overpowers you and you end up under him again. This time you are face down and he has your arms locked behind your back as he presses his hips into you. You writhe underneath him in an attempt to free yourself but you basically end up grinding against his crotch. He lets out a small moan and implores you to yield. Your head is turned toward Price and you see him widen his legs in his seat as he looks at you and Ghost. His eyes are half lidded and you feel the need to prove yourself to him. “Yield Pepper.” 

“Fuck youuuu.” He presses his hips further into your ass and you both let out a groan. He reaches forward and wraps an arm around your front to grab your neck. His thick fingers make their way around your throat and he squeezes. 

“Yield.” He growls. Your head starts feeling light and you whimper out a small, breathy “fuck you.” 

He whispers in your ear “ You keep saying that and I might just have to. You’d like that. Wouldn’t you? You’d love being fucked out on this mat with Price watching” You feel your heart rate spike as his words go straight to the place between your legs and you let out a lightheaded moan unable to stop yourself.  

You bite your lip and let out a weak “Simonnn” and he releases you with a pleased huff. You gasp for air and roll onto your back. He is still hovering above you as you meet his eyes. You stare deeply into his eyes as you finally place what that tense look meant. Ghost wants to fuck you. You look down at his crotch and notice a prominent tent formed in his pants. You look over to Price who is watching the interaction like a hawk . “You doing okay Princess?” You nod your head slowly at Price. You feel your skin drenched in sweat as you bite your lip. “You look a bit breathless, love.” 

Your head is cloudy with thoughts. Price watching you so intently knowing exactly what is conspiring between you and Ghost and the feeling of Simon’s cock pressed against you. You feel so dizzy. “Come on y/n, be a good girl and fight me or are you all talk? You run that pretty little mouth but don't wanna back it up.” You snap out of that space and get ready to fight again. Price puts out his cigar and makes his way over to the ring. 

“Princess. Where’s your head? Where’s all that cockiness? You gonna let him say those things to you. You gonna let him toss you around like that? You wouldn’t take that from me would you? Hm?” 

“Price. You aren’t helping.” You whine as your mind conjures an image of the two of them taking you in the center of the ring. Your face flushes and your legs tremble a bit. The two of these men are gonna be the death of you.

“One more pin and this tension is squashed between you two. No more fighting between mummy and daddy.” Price states as he crosses his arms and stands to the side of the ring. 

“Yes sir” you mutter under your breath as you make your way to your feet. You put your hands up into a fighting position and glare at Ghost, who hasn't taken his eyes off you. You steady your breath and Ghost charges at you, attempting to sweep your feet out from under you. You quickly jump up avoiding his attack and you swiftly turn to shove his back. He stumbles forward before whipping around with a fire in his eyes. 

“There we go Angel, that’s more like it.” Price chimes in, shooting a smirk your way. His praise sends shivers down your spine and makes you more determined to beat Simon. You look back at Ghost before quickly darting towards him, this time you jumped up and wrapped your legs around his waist and positioned yourself on his back. You throw your body backward and send the both of you tumbling to the ground. You make contact first and let out a small Oof as he lands on top of you. Your arms wrap around his neck making sure to extend his arms up and out of the way so that you can begin to apply pressure. Ghost sends an elbow into your side which makes your grip falter slightly but you are determined to beat him. You slowly feel the air leaving his body as he takes a knee trying to turn you two over to gain the upper hand. You slide your legs from his waist to his groin and try your best to keep his legs extended. You feel your leg brush his groin as you pin him. A small whimper slipped from his lips and you squeezed harder.

“Yield.” You order him, knowing that the blood flow to his brain is ceasing. 

“Come on. Fight me like you mean it.” He struggled out as he kept trying to overturn you. “Yield Simon.” You squeeze tighter listening to his breaths deepen in the Nelson hold.

“No.” He grunts out.

“Yield and I’ll let you fuck me.” You purr into his ear. You hear a short skip in his breath as you feel his hand reach to tap your wrist. You relax your body as you release him. He gasps for air as you roll out from under him and make your way to your feet. You stand above him and peer over him, examining him. The layer of sweat that covered his body made him look even more exquisite. He looked up at you with half lidded eyes, full of lust and made his way to his knees in front of you, all while catching his breath. His toned arm reached up to readjust his mask on his face and your eyes dropped much lower. The tent in his pants somehow grew larger than before as a small gasp left your mouth. “You are a horny bastard Simon.” You playfully quipped at him and he chuckled. 

“Only when I spar with a woman such as yourself. Feisty little Pepper.” You could hear the smirk in his voice as he continued to look at you through those blonde lashes of his. Price’s booming voice erupted from the side of the ring, ripping your eyes from Simon. “Good girl then y/n. The tension better be squashed. Go get yourselves cleaned up.” Breathy yessirs,  left your lips as you helped Ghost up and turned to make your way to the showers. You felt two pairs of eyes on you as you made your way to the locker room. 

You found your locker and began to strip yourself of your soaked clothes. Just as you were about to take your panties off when you felt a pressure at your hips. “I’d like to take you up on that offer of yours.” That gruff voice soaked your panties even further. You looked up at the giant towering over you and let out a small whimper. “On your knees Pepper.”

“Yessir.” You slowly got on your knees before the man. He loosened the band on his sweats and lifted your chin to look him in the eyes. “Fucking beautiful. God you run your mouth so much and I’m about to stuff it with my cock.” He pauses and takes a deep breath, “If you don't want this, you tell me right now.”  You looked at him and reached up to palm his hard cock. “I want it. I want you.” He groaned and slipped his sweats down his muscular legs along with his underwear. If you were wet before, now you are drenched at the sight of his cock. “You made me so damn hard. God it hurts being this hard you little minx.” You eyed the rosy tip that was leaking with pre-cum and put your lips to it. You gave it an uncharacteristically demure kiss making sure to keep your eyes on Simon’s. “Fuck me.” He pushed out as his cock twitched. You let out a slight giggle and grabbed the base of him. God this man was thick and so veiny. Your pussy clenched at the thought of him pulsing in and out of you. You licked the seam right under the head of his cock before opening your mouth and sinking down on to him. “Fucking hell,” was all that could be heard from above you as he threw his head back. Your nose hit the base of him and was engulfed in his trimmed light brown hairs. He smelled of sandalwood and had a natural musk that somehow drew you in closer. You worked his cock in and out of your mouth like it was the last thing you’d ever do. You used your hand to play with his balls just a bit when you came back up for air. A trail of spit kept you and his cock connected as you gave him a look that had his knees buckling. 

You heard a light tap as footsteps began to approach the two of you. This man has been the bane of your existence for months. You'd be damned if you stopped touching him because of someone else. Your eyes flicker over to the door way and your gaze zeroed in on Price as he leaned on the door frame with a smug look on his face. Delayed from the feeling of ecstasy, Simon looked over at Price and barely made a move to remove himself from your touch “John.” He said faintly. “Now this is how you release tension. Do not stop on my account.” Price chuckled. A slight red tint found itself on his cheeks as he felt himself grow hard in his trousers. Ghost looked down from above you and asked if it was okay for him to be here. You let out a soft mhm and shamelessly placed him back into your mouth. Both men groaned in response. You applied a light suckling pressure to the head of Simon’s cock and twisted your spit covered hands up and down on his shaft.  You sat back onto your heel and began rocking your clothed cunt on it in order to release some of the pressure building inside of you. He felt his balls tighten up and whimper at the feeling of your mouth leaving his cock. You ran your palm over his tip in replacement of your mouth and jerked his shaft in order to catch a breath. His moans grew louder and he snapped back into reality. 

“Fuck meeeee, that’s gonna make me cum.” he said as he snapped his hips away from you.

“Simon, can I kiss you? Please” you inquired. 

“Fuck yes,” he sighed as he snatched you onto your feet. His mask shot up to the tip of his nose and you caught sight of his pretty pink lips. You shoved your bodies together and your lips met in an instant. He tasted like mint, breakfast tea, and a faint bit of tobacco. He was intoxicating. Your tongue slipped into his mouth as you gained control over your situation and he breathed out a quiet “do you always have to fight with me?” you chuckled against his mouth. 

“Yes” you remembered that you had company and looked over at your captain whose eyes were half lidded but his pupils were blown to hell. “Price,” You mewled, “Come over here please.” A gruff fuck yes left his mouth as he stalked toward you. His eyes read your body and he felt himself feeling nothing but want. You grabbed the back of his head and brought his lips to yours, laughing a bit as his beard tickled your face. 

“Princess, you are a problem.” He huffed, “You don't listen to Ghost and you tease me endlessly. Simon, what should we do with her?” You covered your chest a bit feeling exposed seeing that both men still had the majority of their clothes on. Ever observant they told you to drop your hands and undo Price’s belt. You slipped your hand down his body and were mildly surprised when you felt just how muscular this man was. You flinched slightly then let out a soft sigh as Ghost reached around and slipped his fingers into the waistband of your panties. He cupped your sex and let out a groan that came deep from his chest as he felt your wetness. 

“John. Good god, she's soaked so nicely.” 

“I don't doubt it Lt.” Ghost’s fingers slipped through your folds as you felt Price’s stiff cock jump in your hand. “Mhmmmm fuck.” You moaned at the overflow of feelings. Price’s cock in your hand, Ghost’s cock pressed to your ass with his thumb rubbing your clit. You felt like you were in heaven. “On the bench.” Price commanded and you were more than happy to oblige. Both men sat on the sides of you. Simon knelt in front of you while you leaned over ready to put your mouth onto Price’s member. He stopped you and looked you in the eyes, “If it is too much you'll tell us right?” Before your brain could even stop your mouth you slipped out a “ Yes Daddy.” His hips bucked into the air and his piercing blue eyes darkened till his iris were just a sliver of blue. He yanked your upper half toward him and latched your lips onto his. You groaned at the taste of him. Your breath was caught in your throat when you felt a pair of lips pressing to your inner thighs. A small “Simon” slipped from your mouth as he made his way toward your center. He slipped your panties down your legs and you shivered feeling his hands trace down your legs. He opened your legs and stared at your pussy. 

“So fucking perfect”, as he parted your petals. He dragged his finger through your folds spreading your wetness around as you clenched on nothing. “Can I have a taste, Angel?” he looked up at you with the blackest eyes you’d ever seen. You murmured against Price’s mouth before he pulled away from your lips and said “He asked you a question darling, I suggest you give him an answer.”

“Yes, please!” you damn near shouted.

“Good girl,” the men said in unison. Ghost leaned forward and licked a stripe up your pussy. The motion sent a rush of warmth throughout your body and you threw your head back, leaning on Price. 

“Baby he’s barely touched you.” 

“You’re being mean daddy.” you said as you leaned down to his lap and took his cock into your mouth. He let a long, almost pained groan fall from his lips. Ghost’s tongue massaged your clit and you let out a filthy moan on your Captain’s Cock. God there were so many filthy sounds. Simon lapping at you dripping pussy, you gagging on Price’s dick and the moans were far from scarce from each one of you. 

“I want you to cum on my tongue before I fuck you and this perfect little cunt of yours.” Simon growled from between your legs. He shoved two fingers into your pussy and quickly found that extra spongy spot inside of you and your body shook. 

“Simon, I think you found her little sweet spot.” Price laughed. The only thing you could do was whine out a lengthy “Pleaseeeeee” that would have embarrassed you if you hadn’t basically been cock drunk. “What do you want, baby? Hmm?” Price hummed at you, making you look into his eyes. Your brain functioning its lowest and most primal setting and your pussy having executive control of your body, you struggle out at small please. You begged them to let you cum. 

“I wanna cum on his fingers daddy”. 

Price’s head dropped back again then looked between your legs, noting just how good Simon was making you feel. 

“Fucking hell.” Simon reached his other hand down between his own legs and began jerking himself off needing to feel something other than thrusting into the air. He added a third finger into you and sucked your clit. Within a few pumps and curls of his fingers your body was tensing up, your pussy was clenching around his fingers and you struggled to find your breath as the only thing that came from you mouth was a series of jumbled and partial “fucks” and “I- s” and “yeses”. Simon slipped out a whimper at how tight you were clenching around his fingers. Both men were entranced by the sight of you cumming and honestly had to keep themselves from doing the same. You came down and caught your breath. 

“Honey, hey baby, you think you can give us another one?” Price asked as he pinched your cheeks together making your lips purse. You nodded your head in your fucked out state. You’d do anything he’d ask you to at the moment.

“Words Angel.” Simon chimed. 

“Yes sir. Yes Daddy. I can give you another one.” What the hell have these men done to you? Begging and pleading with them. 

“Thats a good girl. Where do you want us baby” Simon rubbed your knee. 

“Simon in the back and John in the front.” The men assumed their positions. You got on your hands and knees on the bench. Price placed himself at your mouth and Simon positioned himself at your pussy. 

“You’re so good like this y/n. You follow directions and you don't talk back to me. If you wanted the two of us to fuck you like this you could have asked a while ago and saved us some trouble.” Simon said as he rubbed the head of his cock up and down your slit applying a little more pressure at your clit. 

“Oh but that's half of the fun Simon.” You keened. You looked up at John and he was already fisting that gorgeous cock of his. 

“Naughty little thing. Are you ready for us?” 

“Yes Daddy.” And with that Simon shoved his perfect cock into your pussy. Your mouth opened to let out a moan but was then stuffed with Price’s cock. You lightly gagged at the intrusion but quickly went to work on his cock. Simon gave you a second to adjust to his size and only began to thrust as you shoved your ass back onto him. 

“What a fucking sight to see.” Simon declared only to be met with a groan from Price. You’ve never felt so full before in your life. Simon's thrusts started off almost painstakingly slow but incredibly deep.You could feel the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. You gasped and took your mouth off of Price’s dick, “Sooo deep. Oh my god.” Your voice doesn’t even sound like you at the pitch you just hit. Simon speeds up his thrusts watching the way his cock slides in and out of you. You slip your lips back around Price and try to contain your moans. You suckle on his tip and twirl your tongue around him. “Fuck look at me baby girl. I wanna see how Simon’s cock makes you feel.” You lock your eyes on Price’s and moan around him. You feel a bit bold and decide to take him all the way in your mouth until his tip hits your throat. “Fuck meee” Price said as he broke eye contact and threw his head back with a groan. Simon angled his hips upward which caused you to gag a bit on Price. “Filthy, bratty, little girl. Letting us fuck your holes like this.” The filthiness of his words and tone of his voice sent a pulse throughout your body causing you to clench around him. His hips stilled a bit and he took a deep breath to compose himself. He locked eyes with Price and let out a groan. Seeming to be in sync, the two men began to shift positions. Price laid back onto the bench and Simon moved next to him. 

“I want you to ride me Angel.” Price confessed. You nodded your head and crawled to him like a lioness hunting her prey. You set your hips down above his cock and leaned down to kiss his lips. You shifted your hips back and made contact with his cock. You slowly started to grind on him, feeling just how excited he was. You reached back and lined him up with your pussy, just teasing the tip on your entrance. “Stop teasing my honey.” You did as he said and sank down onto his cock. Your lips recaptured his in an attempt to swallow his moans. You felt your hair being pulled as Simon lifted you from Price’s mouth and placed his lips upon yours. “Jealous old mate?” Price chuckled from under you. Choosing to ignore his comment, Simon brought your hand down to his cock and you got the message. You started rocking back and forth on Price and pulled away from Simon to drop your head back. “Soooo good.” You looked upward and felt your eyes rolling backwards. “Yeah Angel?” Simon said next to you. You leaned down and took his cock back into your mouth. You started to work on Simon’s cock and you slowed your grinding on Price just a bit and felt his hand land on your hips. He took control of your grinding and began moving you against his hips. He pumped his hips up just a bit and said, “Ah ah Honey, don’t forget about me.” 

“Who’s getting jealous now, old man?” Simon moaned from above you. You couldn’t help but giggle at the comment. Simon took a gentle hold on your head and lightly began to thrust into your mouth. You moved your hands onto his thighs and let him use your mouth to take his pleasure. “You gonna be a good girl and let me cum down this pretty little throat of yours y/n?” You swallowed around his cock to acknowledge him and looked up at him only to be met with his head tilted back. Simon’s pace gradually increased to a steady rhythm. Price bucked his hips upward and you felt his cock kiss your cervix. You gasped around Simon’s dick and let out a small whine. You grabbed Simon’s balls and gave them a slight squeeze. He grabbed the back of your head and you felt his balls tighten up. You swallowed around him again and felt warm spurts coat the back of your throat. Simon’s pace slowed and he let you come back up for a quick breath and then he shoved you back down till you felt the pulsing in his cock stop. You looked up and met his eyes, sleepier and blacker than ever. He let out a low and long “fuuuuck” before he released his hold on you. Price’s thrusts under you slowed as he watched the intense scene before him. Simon took a step back and Price resumed his assault on your pussy. You drew your attention back to him and ground down onto him. He lifted his torso to meet yours and grabbed harder onto your hips. His hips matched your pace and you felt your walls tighten up. 

“Oh fuck daddy.” 

“ Yeah honey.” 

“Daddy can I cum? Please?” He tilted his head down and stared into your eyes as he painted out a “fuck yes you can”. You wrapped your legs around his waist and looked him in the eye as your body began to vibrate again. “Be a good girl for me. Cum on my cock. I’m gonna fill this little cunt up when you do. Fuck I’m so close, baby.” His filthy words were the final push you needed to cum all over his cock. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your vision went fuzzy. You pussy clenched like a vice around his cock and he let out a low melodic “there we goooo” and thrust into you. You felt his cock grow and pulse in you as he dipped his head into your neck and moaned. Your pussy milked him dry as you basically blacked out from the pleasure. 

“Fucking hell.” Simon said basically pulling you out of your cock drunk haze. 

“You alright angel?” Price breathily questioned. You mumbled a faint mhm and rested your head on his shoulder as he rubbed your back. Price caught his breath then slipped his arms under your legs to lift you up. Simon went to turn on the showers and grabbed your shower supplies. Price carried you over to the stall and Simon placed a kiss on top of your head. John put you down and you wobbled on tired legs. You leaned onto Simon who was already under the water and let the men care for. Simon washed your backside while Price whispered sweet affirmations into your ear. The men turned you around and switched roles. “Simon, I should disobey you more often.” You joked. 

“Not when you put your life at risk. We need you and we care for you.” You looked into his eyes and were met with a soft yet serious feeling. Price hummed in agreement and placed a kiss to the back of your neck while he wrapped his arms around you. “Let's get you taken care of so you can get some proper rest Angel.”

[luckthebard]

So this is a very niche rant that is probably only something I've noticed or been annoyed by, but:

The longer Critical Role has gone on and the more changes they've made/content they've created, there's been an increase in weird people who are desperate and determined to prove that changes or content they don't like are "an objective failure" - but often lie or deliberately misunderstand viewership statistics to do so.

There are a few big "facts" I see repeated by people to argue that CR has "gone in the wrong direction" that are just plain wrong, and I think what annoys me most is seeing so many people engage with those "facts" without bothering to double-check them or push back against the certainty with which people state them. An example of one I keep seeing now is "twitch streaming numbers are down" and it's like, yeah, sure, in comparison to when they didn't simultaneously air on YouTube. If you add up the YT and Twitch numbers these days it's about the same as mid-late C2, but people love to act like YT streaming doesn't exist to make a point that "people don't like C3". And I tbh don't care if people like or dislike C3 but why this determination to falsely quantify and validate a personal preference?

The earliest I saw this was an intense agreement on reddit that Exandria Unlimited was a "failure" for CR, "unlike Undeadwood," because viewership numbers were lower. And it was tbh baffling to not see pushback against that narrative, because it's just objectively untrue. Original EXU's VOD streaming numbers are higher than every single episode of Undeadwood, and it premiered literally years later. It also has a lower "drop-off" in viewership (comparison of how many views episode 1 vs the finale has) than Undeadwood, despite frequent claims to the contrary. And don't mistake me here, I really enjoyed Undeadwood, but it actually was a viewership misstep for CR to the degree that they didn't try anything like it again for a while after and significantly changed how they approached marketing and airing miniseries. (A big one being: don't air a long miniseries simultaneously with the main series, it's too much content for most people to invest in during a week.)

(Sidebar, but another great miniseries CR did that didn't get a lot of viewership love is the Elder Scrolls Online trilogy, so I'm going to plug it here. It has some weirdly low viewership numbers on episodes 2 and 3 and I promise you they're both well worth it.)

The other one I keep seeing is "4 Sided Dive has lower numbers than Talks" which is also just not true. Most 4 Sided Dive VODs have nearly twice as many views as Talks VODs (and I'm using the ones that aired directly on the CR channel as a metric here, not the ones re-uploaded from G&S which lost numbers in the change-over). And I'll tbh chalk that up to the fact 4SD airs much less frequently - people are more likely to think it's necessary to watch whereas with Talks if you weren't interested in the guests you might skip a week. I'm not making any claims about the quality of either show, but the use of false viewership statistics to support "one of these sucks" is so rampant and so weird.

All this to say that yesterday I saw a weird viewer-hungry YouTube clickbait video titled "Midst a FAILURE for Critical Role!!" with a truly absurd confidence on what the VOD streaming numbers for the Midst YouTube videos mean for the series mere days after the premier and snapped.

tl;dr, people just make shit up and say whatever on the internet all the time and we hopefully all understand and expect that BUT (and here's the more annoying thing) 9 times out of 10 people just engage with that WITHOUT LOOKING INTO IT THEMSELVES

[kairismess]

Hello! I see that you're opening request right now, may I request about tsukishima's s/o who cries every time she comes home from work, and she ever moved from another company, but the company was also toxic, and this company she's in now is toxic too, so she's been stressing out and cries every night...

Hsshhshss I'm very sorry if this is hard to understand T u T thank you so much! 💖

OH NO WORRIES ANON !! i honestly like this idea, I HOPE I DID IT RIGHT THOUGH :'))) ngl tsukki would kinda suck at comforting if he forced it, but him just being all real with you when talking to you about it ... he weirdly gets super comforting, and he doesn't even realize it.

it's not lame at all. — timeskip!tsukishima kei x fem!reader

🏐 genre: fluff and a tall glass of comfort

✒️ word count: 975

💭 summary: kei usually doesn't find it hard to be blunt about matters like these... but he can't help but want to see you smile again, so he'll try his hardest to let you know that your feelings are valid.

another grueling day at your awful workplace, and nothing has changed from the past few places you've worked at. it's like you're destined to keep landing at poor workplaces that have a knack for treating their ordinary employees that don't stand out like you so horribly. you could only take so much mistreatment, and to think that you none of your friends nor superiors could really do anything to help you... it was like you were drowning–and nobody was out there to save you in that vast ocean of helplessness and despair that you felt.

your only relief everyday was being able to make it home in one piece, and on a good day, you'd hold in your tears until you were behind closed doors, free to weep and bawl about the misfortunes of being an adult. however, you still had to keep it down, even in the comfort of your own home–your boyfriend was going to be over that evening, and you didn't want him thinking you were dramatic over such little things, right?

by the time you got to your home, kei was already waiting for you by the your door. he looked up from his glasses, his honey-colored, wide eyes greeting scrutinizing your obviously exhausted figure. you managed to smile up at him, but for someone as clever and sharp as kei, he senses something's off about you. he furrows his thin, light blonde eyebrows at you and asks in a soft voice, "did something happen today?" and that's all that it took for your facade to crumble, and for the tears to start rolling down your cheeks in spite of your seemingly sweet, yet forced, smile.

kei walked over to you and with his bandaged fingers, took your bag from you and asked for your keys. he was going to put everything away for you, he was here quite often, and he memorized where all your essentials should be, so it wouldn't be a problem for either of you. he took your hand and led you inside, and you felt a little more ashamed that your boyfriend was leading you into your own home, as if you were a child who didn't know any better and had to rely on someone more put together than you were.

kei sat you down on the couch and got a few tissues from the coffee table, wiping away at your tears, murmuring to you to remember to blow your nose as he handed you the tissue. "...do you need some tea?" he asked you as you nodded, blowing your nose into the tissue. he disappeared into the kitchen, preparing a kettle for the tea, while thinking hard of what to tell you to comfort you. when he came back with the piping hot cup of tea, he kept gulping back the lump in his throat, he was too anxious, and that was always the case with him whenever he'd get too vulnerable with you. "um... i know these days have been... less than desirable, but, you..." kei began, struggling to find the right words, looking away from you ever so often.

he sighed, feeling frustrated with himself for holding back his true thoughts on the matter; but he wanted to sound sweeter, to comfort you. but the way kei comforts is not all sunshine and rainbows; he wants you to remember we live in reality, not in a world where everything works the way we want to just because we persevere and work hard. he looks at you and gently takes your hands in his, and takes a deep breath, hoping his words won't hurt you.

"...you deserve better." he mutters, looking into your eyes, the light in those honey-brown eyes of his had a genuine glint to them, and you could tell he wanted to help you, even if his means weren't very conventional. "i'm sorry you're being treated like that, and it makes me so pissed to know that those guys are getting away with taking advantage of you like that. but... that's reality. workplaces can be fun, and some can be downright abhorrent; but at the end of the day, you're a person who works from 9 to 5 to make an honest living—and that alone is a struggle to do, every day." he utters in a soft-spoken tone.

his voice isn't snarky nor does he hope to sound like a smart ass; he honestly wishes to help you, but to keep you grounded. he rubs the back of your hands and sighs. "...i could help tender you a resignation letter, and while we're doing that, i'll help get you a job at the place i'm applying for in the summer. i'll keep you safe, as much as i can; you've gone through too much already, and i... i want to be there for you, to make up for all the times i couldn't do anything about your suffering." he confesses, his grip on your hands tightening a little.

you felt your second tidal wave of tears coming, and you rushed for the tissues, with kei patting your back, in hopes that his touch would comfort you somehow. he can't really tell you that everything will be okay, he isn't the type to sugarcoat and lie that all will be fine—he loves you too much to build your delusions up, only to be thrown back down by the disappointment of the real world. though, kei loves you so, so much that he'd help you escape those crappy workplaces and help you both land jobs at the same place together. so even if the next one will be just as crappy, or even worse... kei's got you, and he'll make sure you won't waste another precious tear on people who aren't worth crying over; because you deserve so much better.

🦕 tags !! @emptybrain01

[talenlee]

Why Is Druid?

Say that like ‘where is Wizard Hut?‘

I love the 4e Druid. This is a marked change from how much I liked the 3e druid, or how often you might see me playing a druid in a Baldur’s Gate game. Back in 3rd edition, the druid, despite being very powerful, never really engaged me, in part perhaps because I was always trying to find something exploitative and powerful rather than merely accepting the juggernaut of a toolkit the game just left in the Player’s Handbook. You couldn’t get clever with the Druid, you just had to pick it up and use it, like some sort of society of creative anachronisms where one of the anachronisms available to the players was has gun. Valid, but hardly sporting.

The Druid in 4th edition is different. Wildly different. Weirdly different, and different in one of those ways that shows what I think of as a seam in the design between 4th and 3rd editions of D&D.

The Druid was one of 3rd edition’s great mistakes, a full spellcasting class with healer capacity to serve as a pinch-hitter healer in a group that wanted things a little more varied, addressing an enormously complex potential build from its earlier edition, 2e, and all in the process, resulting in some deeply confused mash up of abilities that attempted to address confusion with volume. The druid of 2e had a special unique set of rules compared to the Cleric — for example, at a certain level, you passed into a specific category of Druidic ability and now you were technically a Hierophant, and Hierophants had seven extra spells of every level. Of course there was a limited supply of Hierophants in the world, so there was a question of if you could level up if another one existed, and maybe there’s a one-in, one-out policy? First in, first fired?

Anyway, I can’t speak to how it played, but I am at least aware, on the edges of it, that the 2e druid was odd. It had a lot of things it could do, but much of how it worked, reading the books, seemed to be interesting but challenging to manage. You could wild shape, you could heal, you could cast utility spells, you could even fight with some melee weapons — personally, I didn’t see any of it worth it, because none of the things it could do it could do very well.

3e addressed this seeming difficulty by instead taking all those different options and bringing them all up to the same level. Wild Shape worked by checking traits of monster units, which meant that you weren’t limited to specific reinterpretations of animals and instead could do what a druid feels like it should do — you know, turn into an animal. The spells were rebalanced and shared across different classes, which meant that they tended to work in a more standardised way. Armour rules were aggregated, and weapons were made less terrible.

The result was that the 3e druid went from being ‘decent’ at a bunch of things to ‘good’ at everything it wanted to do. The problem of the druid then became about picking the thing you wanted to at every opportunity, and doing a good job of it — you’d have druids carrying wands of healing so they could dedicate their spell slots to more important tasks, like Flame Striking opponents, or messing up the battlefield with roots. You’d also see druids keeping the ‘best’ list of animals on hand, and every new monster book presented a new chance for druids to develop a new best form.

It also created the strange question of What does the druid do?

The answer was ‘everything.’

The 4e Druid, in comparison and contrast to these designs is something very different that touches, at best, on the periphery of what the 3e Druid could be. I mean it stands to reason, you can only ever touch on doing everything when something you’re working from is so powerful. 4e with its role system of Defender, Striker, Leader and Controller, and its reliable, reusable balance math suddenly was confronted with fitting an elephant into a shoebox.

How do you represent something busted that could do everything in the context of a new system that sought to explicitly prevent that? I joked when the game was new that the four roles were Defender, Striker, Leader and Miscellaneous. That any class too powerful, with too much stuff it could potentially do, got thrown to the Controller role as suggested by the first Controller we ever saw being the Wizard. Oh and back in Player’s Handbook 1, the Wizard had a few builds that were pretty ridiculously pushed — the pinball wizard, I’ll talk about it sometime — and that meant that it was easy to feel like the Controller Does Everything.

That impression diluted through experience, of course, and eventually it came to that while yes, the Controller sure has some Miscellaneous vibes, the core of what the Controller was there to do was to attack the enemy action economy. Nice and obvious to a non giga-nerd, right? Okay, how about this: The leader lets you do more things, the controller stops them from doing more things?

And into this space, they poured the druid.

It works beautifully, for my tastes; the druid needs to do lots of things to feel properly druidy, but you need to make sure the doing lots of things doesn’t unbalance the game. Controllers have the widest variety of things they can do and ways they can do them – inflicting status conditions, changing enemy position, preventing specific action types, making areas on the battlefield inaccessible, these are all ‘controllery’ things, and that means there’s a lot of different ways you can flavour them. The Invoker is most famous for making zones in the play space hard to deal with, the Wizard has a build that slides things all over the place, and the psion controls people with immense penalties to their damage rolls.

Obligatory pause where, while reading this aloud, for either Fox or I to comment on how amazing it is that Dishearten is an AOE power.

Anyway, the druid was designed to be a mode switcher class. That is, there are two ways a druid can do things. One is a melee controller that makes a single target’s life harder, the other is a ranged controller that makes a large group of enemies’ lives harder. This mode switching then adds a new element to the class that your powers can interact with, where you now have control powers that can add a mode switching element to them as well. This is your Wild Shape – you transform into some kind of nonspecific beast, which can use your Wild Shape powers. Each form has fewer powers to manage, and you can build your druid to specialise in one or the other or do a mix.

This lets the druid do the ‘a lot’ without letting them actually do everything. You have a lot of choices and a lot of ways to play with those pieces, but even just how often you use the mode switch is part of what the druid does to control the battlefield. When I first played a druid, it was not uncommon to start a fight out of wild shape, use the first turn to make some kind of area control power, then shift into wild shape for the rest of the fight kicking people into that area control power. There are druids builds that work like wizards and only ever shapeshift to get away from problems, and make a hit while scuttling away, or to sit on a specific type of problem. There were druids who focused on summoning monsters and using them as kind of turrets on the battlefield, positioning allies in a way that benefitted them around those summons.

Lone artillery combat encounters, where you have a bunch of stuff in front of a long-ranged attacker? Druids love those. Even at level 1, that artillery is spending their days completely stuck underneath a Fire Hawk power.

Problem is, of course, that if you want to do Everything doing a Lot is going to miss something. That was what led to the subclasses of the druid, the ones that added healer elements to the druid, because the druid back in 3e could do that. It added animal companions, because the druid back in 3e could do that. Now I don’t worry too much about these things because if I wanted an animal companion on my Druid, I’d take a theme for that, but also because these changes were introduced in an Essentials book.

Which is to say, they’re crap.

They’re not crap crap, like I try to defend Essentials as giving players a choice for simplified character builds, but in the specific case of the Essentials Druids, in order to work with the simplified choices, these Essentials druids with their animal companions and their healing powers have to look at all other Druid powers and not use them. The only use they get out of their animal companion is using the specific subset of powers that make them work, and that makes combat more samey. But again: That’s a thing you probably want if you want a simplified build.

Still, it gives rise to my favourite joke – I mean like, funny thing, not really a joke, there’s no subversion of reality or anything here – about the Healer Druid. See, every Leader in the game gets an encounter power, usable twice a combat at level 1, that heals an ally with a bonus. Every class gets their own version that lets them distinguish their class specifically and add some interesting detail that shows how this Leader differs from other Leaders.

The Healer druid build gets Healing Word.

The Cleric power.

Literally, the same power, same name, listed as a Cleric power.

Check it out on PRESS.exe to see it with images and links!

[parachutingkitten]

Why is Pixane So Queer?

Some thoughts on Asexual Romance.

[warning, long post below the cut]

The Ninjago fandom had a very potent reaction to The Quest for the Lost Powers repeatedly describing Pixal and Zane as being 'very close friends'. This seemed quite contradictory to many who assumed the confession of undying love at the end of the last season might have been a small hint at a romantic relationship of some kind. However, after closer examination, it turns out Pixal and Zane don’t ever actually refer to themselves as a couple, and the show has never once referred to them being in an active relationship.

But there’s something here, right? Sure, it’s not explicitly stated, but you are lying to yourself if you can watch them and tell me there is zero romantic subtext going on here. A lot of people got very defensive that the children’s book stated they were friends, especially when it also seemingly confirmed that the much straighter straight boy ship, Kailor, was apparently canon, despite being only implied as a possible future for ages now. But I find this backlash to be a bit strange. Sure, Zane and Pix aren’t exactly ‘just friends’ but, what do you want them to say? That they’re boyfriend and girlfriend? You want these two to say they’re ‘going out’ with each other? You think these two robots are ‘dating’ each other, like they’re just susin’ out the partner pool. Are those the words that fit this relationship to you?

I found myself feeling weirdly offended at everyone, and I think the reason was that these two love-droids haven’t chosen to define their relationship in traditional terms, and so everyone’s insistence that they should be boxed into some sort of traditional term seems inherently strange. It’s like when two elderly people are dating, it feels weird when they say “this is my girlfriend” because despite it being factually true, there’s so much baggage that comes with the word, part of that implication being youth, which is directly at odds with the immediate situation. It’s the correctness of the word paired with the incorrectness of the societal implications which forces you to assess if those societal implications should exist. And that- that is what makes this relationship feel queer. That’s why there’s this undeniably different kinda energy radiating off of it. It’s that rejection of the traditional labels, the refusal to be put into a box, which forces it to be a-typical. But, why? Why does Pixane have this rejection of labels radiating off of it? Their ages, while being literally whack, are presented as being your typical teenage to young adult age romance. Their genders present as a typical hetero pairing. And it’s not like they don’t follow your typical cliche love at first sight plot. I mean, Pixal was pretty explicitly created as a generic love interest character. So, what is it? Why is this queer? Spoiler alert: It’s because they’re asexual.

So, what is asexuality? Strictly defined, it is a community of people who experience little to no sexual attraction to anyone. This is distinct from aromanticism, which is a lack of romantic attraction, and sexual engagement or urges which are their own separate boat, but often have overlap with asexuality. However, for our purposes, we are focused on just the sexual attraction part. You can think of it as the difference between finding someone hot and finding someone cute. That’s the distinction that made it click for me anyway.

Now, as a disclaimer, I am not going to be considering other queer interpretations of this relationship. Not to invalidate them, because of course they’re valid, but specifically because I feel there isn’t precedent for them in the text, and I feel there is for asexuality. This deep dive is particularly about validating asexuality as being queer, and so to do that we have to eliminate any other outstanding factors. People are extremely quick to pin asexual queerness to something else, and that in itself can feel invalidating, even if it’s only attempting to validate other communities as well. Asexual romance is so easily read as straight romance, that any queer undertones have to have an alternate explanation, because asexuality doesn’t seem like enough to cross the barrier. Yes, enby interpretations of Pixane are great, and fantastic, and I would die for your right to follow those headcanons, but to pin the in text queer vibes on the fact that they technically don’t have biological gender, despite having very clear presenting and unwavering genders in text seems like a real easy way to dismiss the asexual coding which is staring me in the face. While things like non-binary or aromantic readings validate communities who have immense oppression and are continually called fake or confused, which is insanely important, asexuality, especially as it stands apart from aromanticism, is often confused as not being a difference at all. You’re just pure! You’re just wholesome! You’re just so sweet and innocent! And yes… yes, I am, but also, it’s more than that. It’s fundamentally something different about the way my brain is wired, and I feel a need to defend the fact that it, specifically, is queer. And in no way am I trying to say that the aces are the most oppressed actually, I don’t want to start the oppression Olympics here, and if we were to, I would probably argue quite the opposite, but I am saying that there is oppression, and it comes from outside and inside of the community, and it is a thing. It’s a different flavor of thing that’s maybe not as severe, but also sits differently. Maybe it’s not as much a pressing thing as other things, but… it’s my thing. It’s what I feel. It’s something I can speak on. So, I’m going to speak on it.

Perhaps one of the largest factors asexuality has to offer is the necessary separation of romance and sex. The packaging of sexual attraction and romantic attraction is so ubiquitous that the term ace is often assumed to be referring to aro/ace people, despite there being a term for that… aro/ace! Asexuality is not an easy queerness to explain, precisely because of this deeply held integration. It’s not a difference of experience necessarily, it’s a lack of a certain experience. I’m not saying this is something you can’t understand, because, unless you’re aromantic, I know you understand it! You are going to be able to like and relate to and feel seen by asexual romances, because the main component it requires is that you have romantic attraction- which is most people. And so many people get confused when you point to an asexual thing and go “I get that! This! This is me!” Because they just respond with “You’re not special, I get that too. Is this supposed to be different?” And, yes, it is, primarily because everything else includes this giant other thing as well, which is sexuality.

When vegans get excited about finding a meal which is especially delicious and also meets their food restrictions, they get particularly excited. That doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy that same vegan meal- no doubt it probably tastes incredibly delicious to you as well. But you likely won’t get that same feeling of excitement, because you don’t live under the same restrictions as vegans do. That’s the same thing I feel when I see an asexually coded romance. I can enjoy the full meal without having to pick things out or ignore vital parts. I have no doubt that others can thoroughly enjoy asexual romances, but you’re going to have to look at it in context of all the dominant romance stories in the world to understand why it’s so different and special to me.

Now, have I cracked the code on asexual romance in media? No. I only have my own experience with asexuality to lean on, and the very limited discourse on the topic I’ve come across while discovering my identity. All of this is simply a theory based on my own thoughts and observations, but these are some explanations as to what might possibly be included in a framework for an asexually coded romance, at least to me.

So, what makes romance asexual? It’s not simply a lack of sexual suggestiveness. Any number of romances aren’t sexually suggestive, but still glaringly heteronormative- especially in children’s television. And it’s also not a lack of initial attraction, as that would throw Pixane out of the running for sure. Well, I have a few things which I feel may contribute to asexual coding of a romantic relationship, and wouldn’t you know, Pixane is a great example of all of them.

Asexual romance may, as many have remarked, come off as more innocent. When you shove all of the focus of characters onto the romantic, emotional connection, rather than any underlying sexual tension, things end up feeling extremely innocent to the layperson. You get the sort of old married couple effect. Two people deeply in love, who just sort of stare at each other in awe, and that others can comment on how cute they are. Again, asexuals don’t necessarily find anything hot. Cuteness is the main operative factor motivating their attraction, so it follows that their interactions would radiate that factor back at observers. The characters might in fact be very touchy, have sex, enjoy that physical touch, but that’s not at the forefront of anyone’s mind in the story. This is an aspect of Pixane that can be read very clearly. Their romance is quite easily described as pure and wholesome by all who have the pleasure of observing them. The way they interact with each other is extremely gentle and supportive, and their level of old married couple vibes is by far the highest of any pairings in the show (aside from perhaps the actual old married couple of Ed and Edna).

Asexual romance, I find to often be less conflict driven. Take the classic enemies to lovers plotline- it’s built on a tension between an innate irrational attraction, and a perceived logical personality conflict. While romantic attraction is certainly not always rational, from my understanding, sexual attraction is often rooted in factors that aren’t at all related to logical compatibility or personality. This means the enemies to lovers plot is primed to work much better when sexually charged, because it presents a clear path to create the hate/love conflict. Not to say that asexual enemies to lovers is impossible, or that asexual partners don’t have conflict between them, but that it is less of an obvious threat to incorporate into asexual romance.  Because there are less factors and layers of attraction to get involved in, there’s less room for conflict and contradiction between them. It is much easier to get tangled up in a situation with more strings. Pixane is a relationship which certainly doesn’t hold much internal conflict. The one disagreement they did have is solved quite neatly with basic communication skills in the middle of season 8. Most of their conflict comes from external factors which separate them or cause misunderstanding, rather than conflict from within the characters themselves.

Asexual romance also has the obvious potential to challenge traditional dating norms. Because there is no impulse to escalate things physically, it makes sense that the progression of an asexual romance would differ from traditional relationships where that escalation is expected. Your asexual romance is bound to get emotionally intense with each other quicker, or at least have it be the focus of their story, because there is no other facet to deal with. Asexuals don’t commonly have sexual fantasies for themselves, but rather romantic fantasies. Not to say that most people don’t have romantic fantasies, but… that’s all we’ve got. And when your impulse is ‘let’s get married, and then maybe I guess we can kiss’, it might seem like things are progressing out of order to the average person. While asexuals don't all hate physical contact or even sexual connection, it isn't an attractive or motivating factor in the same way it is in most romances, so even on a base level, the level of physical contact is likely going to be less than average. Pixane progresses ridiculously out of order. Zane is willing to split his soul for her- it’s only at this point that they romantically hold hands for the first time. It’s the emotional connection between the two that comes first, and all classic tangible symbols of affection and romance that are secondary. The most pronounced physical contact we’ve seen is a cheek kiss, and their most common type of physical contact is enthusiastic hugging (which I’ll dive more into later).

Additionally, because physical affection is more of an afterthought, it would also make sense for labels to come slowly. If you have an incredibly close personal, soulful connection, but you haven’t kissed yet, it makes sense for people around you to assume you’re just really close friends, or perhaps just crushing on each other still. Terms like “girlfriend” and “boyfriend” invoke rather physical tactile images, and so to attempt to apply them to an asexual romance isn’t necessarily wrong but may feel a bit off putting because of this dissonance. Again, it’s this dissonance between the romantic meaning of the word, and the sexual undertones which forces discomfort onto the viewer. Pixal and Zane have yet to kiss each other after years of dancing around each other’s obvious romantic feelings. It remains unclear if they even are in an active romantic relationship at all, or are still mutually pinning, as no labels have been given to their relationship in show. I have no doubt part of this is the lack of planned dates or physical affection which are common outward signals of a traditional established relationship.

A lot of the saucy flirting which accompanies many classic heteronormative romances can seem rather pointless to asexuals. I would venture to say that asexuals are likely more direct and up front with their emotional vulnerability and feelings, because that’s the connection which they are seeking to make. To dance around it with innuendo and mind games is rather unproductive in achieving the end goal. There is less of a pressure to “perform” romance, and instead just be honestly romantic, because the romance isn’t a prelude to sex, or physical affection, it’s the end goal in and of itself. To only pretend to do it is entirely pointless. All of this is likely going to result in a romance which puts less focus on the “game of dating”. I mean, can you imagine Pixane ending up in a Jaya style love triangle? It’s almost an absurd pitch to make, right? There is no performativity to the Pixane relationship, it is exactly as it appears at first glance. And when Zane attempts more traditional, cheesy flirting tactics like in Ninjago Confidential, Pixal is nothing but confused and annoyed by his attempts.

The most prominent example which I feel exemplifies the inherently asexual coding of Pixane applies to many robotic romances- and it’s the characters’ relationship with skin. A lot of sexual suggestion and tension is based on skin. The revealing nature of skin exposure, the feeling of skin on skin being a sexual touchpoint, skin is essential to the sexual experience in most instances. This is part of the reason I love writing romance but have yet to write a kiss between anyone. The sexuality of a kiss is inherently uncomfortable to write for me because you’re encouraged to lean into the physical feeling of the touch of skin. Robots bring to the forefront the idea of this physical contact because their skin is often not exactly skin, and that in itself gives a sort of de facto distance from sexuality. There’s a moment which happens repeatedly with Pixane, and shows up in other robotic romances, like Wall-E and Eve, which I feel highlights this essential separation from the skin of sexuality. Pixane and Wall-Eve both have the ‘clink’ moment, in which intimate physical contact is made, (in Pixane’s case, all of their many hugs) and accentuated by the sound of their metal skin meeting with a loud clink. This sound not only highlights their lack of skin but serves to suck any sexual energy out of the interaction immediately and leaves it purely with the romance intended by the action. It’s not uncommon for people to find the sound humorous, precisely because of how desexualizing it is. It highlights the couples’ incapability of indulging in sexual skin on skin contact, and instead the closeness and companionship the act of touching provides.

And this is why I feel robots are in fact a decent candidate for asexual characters if done properly. Robots being coded as asexual can be a very negative stereotype, particularly when their asexuality is explicitly linked to their lack of emotion and feeling- but media about robots has been trending more positively recently. In fact, robots, if used correctly, may actually validate asexuality explicitly. Robotic characters are often used to explore the idea of what makes humanity human. If we give these robots human-like enough traits, when do they become human? Are they perhaps the most human? And it seems like fictional consensus agrees that sexuality is not required to achieve human status. Stripping away the excess human emotions may be part of what makes robots asexual (or aromatic, if your robot is also incapable of romantic love). The medium of robot literalizes the disconnect that asexuals have with their physical bodies, most notably their skin, and serves to put additional distance between the character and sexual contact, at least in the traditional sense. I mean, think about it, if you want your robot to be sexual, you need to go out of your way to establish that it has sexual capability, because no one is going to simply assume that your fictional robot was designed with that capability in mind. Why would it be, unless that was its explicit purpose? In a way, robots are sort of de facto asexual.

Pixane is queer because it’s asexual, and it’s asexual because they distill down only the purely romantic parts of a romantic relationship. They’re able to do this, in part because of their individual characterization, but also because of their robotic bodies, which make the separation between romance and sexuality just that much easier. They highlight the necessity to separate romance from all of the convoluted sexual layers which often accompany it, and so come out feeling distinctly untraditional and subversive.

That's the theory, again, all hyper based on my own personal experience with asexuality, which is of course not all encompassing. I'd love to hear your thoughts :)

[jacenbren]

Tokyo Jujutsu Tech students and staff and whether or not they can drive:

Gojo

Drives a hideous minivan he got off Craigslist to spite his parents

Claims to be a “responsible driver” but is super jerky on the brakes and blows through stop signs

The students love riding with him because he always stops to get McDonalds. Nanami fucking HATES getting in the car with Gojo and avoids it at all costs

Talks incessantly to himself and to passengers while driving and constantly sings along to the radio

Yuuji

Currently learning to drive from Gojo (aka driving around while Gojo sits in the passenger seat with a milkshake and overshares about his past while occasionally yelling at Yuuji to speed up)

Inherited a tiny shitty old car from his grandpa and refuses to part with it

Drives either way too fast or really damn slow and there’s no in between

Can’t drive without the music on full blast because he’s used to Gojo talking his ear off

Megumi

Taught himself how to drive and refused to let Gojo teach him

Always goes exactly the speed limit and bitches about it whenever someone cuts him off (has attempted multiple times to summon Mahoraga on shitty drivers)

Absolutely VICIOUS when it comes to the aux cord and is a staunch supporter of the “the driver picks the music” rule

Gojo buys him a new car every year for his birthday but Megumi prefers his first car (a jeep. don’t ask why.)

Nobara

HORRIBLE road rage

Always going at least ten miles above the limit and has more speeding tickets than she does overcharged credit cards (Yuuji is holding on for dear life whenever he rides with her)

Convinced Gojo to buy her a luxury sports car and managed to dent it horrendously after two (2) weeks

Her car is always so full of shopping bags and makeup and other stuff that you can barely sit down

Yuuta

Also learned how to drive from Gojo and it shows

Doesn’t like driving because it triggers his anxiety and when he has to. oh boy.

Needs the car to be DEAD SILENT whenever he’s driving and sits hunched over in his seat with the look of a crazed chimpanzee in his eyes while he grips the steering wheel so hard he’s shaking

Doesn’t have a car and usually bums rides from Maki

Maki

A surprisingly decent driver but always goes way too fast and is notorious for tailgating people

Has at least two of the windows down at all times as long as it isn’t raining and always has her music on full blast

The only student who knows how to drive a stick shift. is weirdly proud of this fact.

Has a stereotypical straight-white-man-style lifted pickup truck that she refers to as “her baby”

Toge

Whips around corners at 20 miles over the speed limit and casually breaks every traffic law known to man but has never gotten a ticket thanks to his “expert persuasion techniques”

His car was one of Megumi’s cars before he stole it (Megumi doesn’t actually mind but he pretends to be annoyed on principle)

Drags Yuuta out every weekend to hotbox the car with him

Has like six of those little air fresheners that hang off the rear view mirror but they don’t exactly cover the weed smell

Panda

Somehow has a valid drivers license. no one knows how he got it.

Chews on the interior out of boredom when he’s stuck in traffic and the car constantly looks like a wild animal got loose in it

Has Yaga’s old car (a beat up old station wagon that doesn’t look great but hasn’t broken down in ten years)

Is the designated driver whenever the second and third years go out

Nanami

Owns the most beautiful classic car that he keeps spotlessly clean

An excellent driver who ALWAYS uses his blinkers and almost never loses his temper

Secretly salty that the students only to like ride with Gojo (it’s because Nanami never stops at McDonalds and always says something along the lines of “we have food at home”)

Curses out other drivers under his breath when he sees them driving recklessly

Shoko

Drives with one hand on the wheel and the other dangling out the window with a cigarette while blasting 90s dad rock

Bought a hearse years ago because she thought it would be funny

Would pick up Megumi and Tsumiki from school in the hearse if Gojo couldn’t make it

Megumi hates the hearse. Tsumiki loves it.

Yaga

Drives a tiny Kia soul and always has craft supplies all over the backseat because he forgot to bring them inside after his latest Joann’s shopping spree

Has a gigantic collection of mini plushies on the dashboard

Yells at people when they cut him off

Feels guilty about it whenever he has students in the car with him but can’t stop himself from yelling and ends up getting even more irritated and short-tempered because he feels guilty and the students riding with him are left in terrified silence as the vicious cycle continues

Hakari

Managed to single-handedly drive up Jujutstu Tech’s car insurance by thousands of dollars