#and it's a different hate than it was when my friends hated themselves in middle school

[yourplasticlittlespastic]

E̴N̴T̴W̴I̴N̴E̴D̴ - Series

Part 2

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x f/reader

Warnings: Pure Fluff! Raw +18 warnings will come later in other chapters

Notes: That's right, I plan to make it a series. Not too short, not too long but enough! Benedict has stolen my days and nights and I've been daydreaming too much ngl.

WC: 3.5K

Humidity has reached its peak.

You cursed quite low as the sweat forming on your lower back created a wave of uncomfortableness and nevertheless, you were putting yet another layer of fabric. Madame Delacroix called it freshening and here you are, the third hour of trying out the fabrics of the newly imported cloth.

"Better than whalebone, is it not mon cherie?"

You looked at Madame Delacroix with the sense of cursing her too but you smiled rather sweetly "Steel you said? It is... better" You felt the structure of the corset, still very fitting and nothing different from the previous ones except for the metal strips on the side.

"Bien, we shall get it" The seamstress nodded and started working immediately and as you stood there; presence made statue and breath made a mere flow you saw people passing, your mother with her pupils dilated as the colours of fabric captured her you wondered if perhaps things could go more easily this season.

A sudden wave of hope filled you at the thought of not having Daphne around, not to confuse it with hate, you love the Bridgertons but the eldest sister made quite a chaos last time that unfortunately even if some pair of eyes landed on you, Daphne and the Duke took most for themselves.

When you returned to your house, adorned with the marble that was polished every morning of every day, you lay on your bed tired of doing absolutely nothing. Looking pretty in a burgundy dress is not a task that burns brain cells.

“Mama” you said with your head facing the ceiling and your legs swinging.

The woman who you were looking for entered the room, holding a cup of tea in her hands and a smile on her face, one that was painted so naturally, one that she passed to you.

“Yes, my dear?”

“May I go to the Bridgertons?”

“Now?” Your mother saw the agony on your face “I want you back before sunset”

“You must not worry” Your heels clicked on the ground as you got up, a smile on your face and the feeling of going to a friend's house instead of spending the day in your chambers “Finally, finally” you whispered clumsily going outside your grandiose mansion and breathing the powdery vs. Pollen of London’s air.

It was a three-minute stroll as you turned the block towards the Bridgertons; ultimately you saw the gates open and the carriage that was waiting outside.

The sun was shining as you looked upwards, the sky a shade of blue that reminded you of the ocean, the one that your father brought you to a couple of summers ago.

You knocked twice and waited for someone to open, a maid appeared and bowed.

“Miss Ashbourne”

“Morning Rose, may I?”

“Please, the ladies are-“

“In the drawing-room, I assume, as always”

“Miss Penelope is there as well"

"The more, the better. Thank you, Rose" With pose you took your dress and tried to walk inside the beautiful almost similar entree of the house but-

"Anthony?!"

You smiled at the voice and before stepping into the staircase you turned around and made your way to the other room; the one that always smelled like oils and wood.

“I believe your sight might be flawed… that or you quite meant I look like Anthony”

Benedict’s eyes lift from the painting, a smile spreading on his lips and you did the same.

“In spirit perhaps” he curved his lips “Forgive me Miss Ashbourne, the angle from this side is not ideal to see who walks around”

“Hmmm that’s alright,” you said stepping into the middle of the room, the tiles stained with long-forgotten strokes “How are you?”

“Not bad at all and you?”

“I could be better, a boring day it is but I meant if you were fine after art school and…” you stopped to see if you were not being impertinent but he seemed to put his wooden palette down and pierced his ears “I mean…”

“That’s kind of you to ask, Y/N” he shrugs “I’m dealing with it well, I’m content with what I’m doing right now and what happened there it was to be enjoyed”

“That’s good,” you said ready to leave the room “Well I shall leave you with your…” your eyes caught the painting, a room adorned with frames and curtains “Beautiful painting”

"Thank you, I'm still polishing it but thank you" He eyes you oh so slowly as he squinted his eyes “Would you like to stay for a while?”

“Oh”

“Come on, I’ve always enjoyed sharing words with you”

"Well..." You said unsure, you didn't want to leave him so fast after the kind words and the invitation, it was rude of you "I would like to"

"Good, you can sit right there" He pointed to the chair and you did what you were told, watching how Benedict moved the easel and the chair behind, you heard a bit of noise as the stool and his tools were put in a table, he sat down and looked at you

"Tell me, I know you’re a debutante this season”

You snorted that the sound made Benedict laugh in return “My days have been filled with the preparations for this season and my mama is driving me crazy because apparently, I don't know how to sit and breathe"

"What?"

“I move my chest too quickly that it looks like I’m always on the verge of an attack, that’s what she says. I never thought controlling my breathing would be a concern in my life but here we are”

How eyes had a mind of their own because they landed very briefly on the straight neckline of your dress and the mounds of your chest and he snapped only to say "She cares about you"

"I know" You shrugged “is just so… boring”

“What? Do you want some drama? Perhaps lady Whistledown-“

“Not the drama inked words can bring” you confessed “I do not know what I want from this season. Last one I was still an espectator and yet the chaos was too much to bear. This time… should I prefer quietness and routine? Or perhaps-“

“A scandal,” he said with a glint in his eyes “I would go for the latter but I'm not you"

"You think it's the right thing to do?"

"No, but I have a reputation to live up to" He smiles and you cannot help but laugh as his shoulders move in amusement "So I am the one to talk, aren't I?”

“Quite indeed you are, Benedict,” you said

“So” he smiled “can you spare some time so I can tell you how I achieved the perspective here?”

“I can spare a day or two”

“That’s real talking”

Benedict has always been keen on you. Your spirit reminded him of Anthony; how sharp and stubborn and your way of talking reminded him of Eloise; how straightforward and full of wit. Every time you found each other alone the conversation flowed like a river; the topics varied and he liked to be surprised, and you liked to surprise in return.

Today he was trying to explain to you how he was working on the perspective and the shading; you didn't understand half the things that were coming out of his mouth and yet you kept your attention on him, it was hard to do so as you saw how he moved his hand to demonstrate or the way he tilted his head with fervour.

It took a gentle few minutes for you to get into the atmosphere you always find with Benedict. The straight posture left your body as you moved your hands from your lap and made your way next to the canvas. Your nose could smell the painting and fresh oil splash on a jar. For all you know, Benedict Bridgerton, the tallest and silliest brother, had a way to make you feel yourself. Indeed with one and twenty years on this earth, you would say you have the closest for at least a solid seven with him: a good friend with good values and good lips, the former an observation you have assembled for the past two years.

“But who says that in the same painting orange and purple must avoid each other?” you asked staring at his fingers and the way he pointed at the canvas "hmmm?"

“You see, my professor said that the tones do not match and rather make the art cheap” he explained

"so" you laughed "if by any chance I decide to follow Lady Featherington's fashion trend and mix orange and purple in my wardrobe... I'll be considered cheap by your professor?"

He smiled looking down and hastily removed the curl from your side and allowed it to frame your face better "He would be mad to even think such a thing but please stay with your beautiful gowns, it makes your skin glow"

You stayed there feeling the pulsation at the back of your neck and the sudden urge to remain silent, the feeling of a blush forming and you were aware.

"Thank you" you whispered and moved away to see the painting closer, your hands behind your back.

"You're welcome" He smiled, not taking his eyes off of you and he saw how you were trying to avoid his stare.

Change the subject. You told yourself.

“Haven’t the styles changed over the years?" you asked out loud and trying very well to follow what your head was ordering "If orange and purple even join each other in the future I would be quite mad that it was not you who decided to pursue such an art transgression”

Benedict felt the most boyish with that compliment that he looked down and snorted all genuinely.

“We will see, I have several canvases ready to be corrupted and you. I mean you?” He smiled “How are your activities?”

Your smile grew large “Let me tell you about this book I’ve been reading, it has six volumes”

“I’m all ears, Miss Ashbourne”

That day apart from receiving multiple comments and opinions from Benedict about the biology books you stole from your father's library, you also received a scold from your mother alas you didn’t return when you were supposed to and you said you were encapsulated with the girls and the tea that tracking time was not good. Lost indeed between the smell of oil paintings and unfinished canvases.

And when debuting finally happened, oh so gracefully in front of the Queen. You smiled when it was over, the simple nod of Queen Charlotte alleviated any woes within your mother. You, Y/N Ashbourne a debutante with an ambitious mama by her side. The season was ready to begin.

A week was when you swore you could not feel your cheeks anymore. You have succeeded and had five suitors calling on you every day. The conversations were just a tad dry like the biscuits served by the Cowpers.

“Tighter”

Your squeal resonates only within you as your ladies tightened the corset and followed, as always, your mama’s orders.

“Tighter”

“Perhaps this is good, I feel like I might…”

“You are good my dear, tighter” your mother nodded

And the last squeal escaped your lips as you saw in the three mirror dresser how up your breasts appeared. After getting ready, with the greatest olive green beaded dress Madame Delacroix could design, you made your way to Lady Danbury’s Ball.

It was a night as expected. Your first dance was with a Viscount. He was old, not very handsome and didn't talk to you, you only nodded. The second was an Earl, you were thankful it was a waltz because it seemed that he was not keen on anything else than moving back and forth. The third much to your dismay and much to other girls’ amusement the Marquis of Ashdown stepped on your poor toes until you were destroyed not by dancing but by being in front of him.

“Quite young is he not?” Eloise said with a macabre smile

“Shush it, El. I am mostly embarrassed, he belongs in a nursery”

“And yet he is wife-hunting” she snickered “Nonetheless I must admit that if you two marry then you’ll downgrade from Ashbourne to Ashdown”

“Incredibly funny you are Eloise Bridgerton”

The night went as expected, everything as expected and nothing to be surprised about.

“Goodbye!” Eloise almost yelled that even you blinked in surprise and her quick getaway made you sense a male figure was coming your way so you turned and saw Lord Coxingworth, with his light blonde hair brushed backwards he requested a dance and finally your toes relaxed as well as your dancing skill made is debut; with such a dancer such as Lord Coxingworth.

“I may say that this has been a refreshing way to end my night” he smiled

“You are leaving?”

“I’m afraid so, Miss Ashbourne. My mother is not feeling fine”

“Oh my, then you ought to leave immediately. Give her my regards and please send me a letter once you reach home. I pray she recovers fastly and hopefully, your journey home won't take too long"

"I shall" He bowed and you smiled. “And I shall see you once this matter is settled. I shall pay a visit next week, Miss Ashbourne. You look gorgeous tonight"

You thanked him and watched how he disappeared into the crowd. It was the last dance of the night and yet your feet did not hurt as much after the success and your mother approved with a single nod.

You made your way to the back of the ballroom where Eloise was waiting with Penelope. Minutes later to what it seemed between giggles and quick banter, you saw a shadow passing and it stood quite tall beside Eloise. Benedict.

“Ah sister; mother is looking for you; something about at least being seeing for five minutes beside a man”

“I must leave too, my mother is…” Penelope distractedly said “She is… bye”

You turned to see Benedict with his pristine and flattened down dressing robe “They left me in bed company”

He acted hurt “ow how sorry I am, they left me with a good-looking girl” he shrugged “It’s a matter of perspective” he stared at the green dress “You look quite beautiful. How was the night, is it true you danced with the Marquis of Ashdown?”

“I fought a war with his feet, that was not a dance”

“Let the poor kid be, you are a fine dancer, better than anyone I know. So? He is going to pursue you?

You smiled “Only if his governess allows him”

He snorted and made a burning sound “Good girl” he sigh “What about Lord Coxingworth?”

“Oh… I think it went better than Ashdown”

“Hmmm”

“He said he ought to see me next week”

“Did he?” He sniffed “I think then you have a suitor then”

“Far from it,” you said and looked around “Before the end of this night I must go into Lady Danbury’s library”

“Are you…” he smirked, “Sneaking and stealing yet another book?”

“She once said I could take advantage of her collection”

“yes, only if you are inside the house” he debated with a laugh

“And I am not?”

“But you will not. You’ll get the book and leave the house with it”

“And…” you stood quickly on your tips “if no one sees anything… no one has to know”

He smiled and shook his head but formed an O with his mouth when he saw how swiftly you moved away from your spot. The beads on your dress shifted with you, the curls on your back bounced at the pace and he, the only accomplice in such a furtive task, joined you.

“Perhaps it is better to go back, they might be expecting us”

“Oh nonsense,” you said with the thirst for that book you knew Lady Danbury had, your hand turned the knob and your eyes sparked at the dark of the room that held the shadows of all the books “Eureka”

Benedict stood behind you, a small smile on his face as you searched for the book.

His eyes, like a thief, looked at your curves, the ones the dress did not hide and tried but also sneakily -in the theme of the night- to capture a glance of your oh-so-fast-moving chest your mother thinks you have.

“What is the book?” he asked

“A collection of poetry, not known, written by I believe anonymous people”

“Huh, controversial. Have you read other compilations?"

“Not now but if this one is good, I will try to get a hold of more… unusual editions. This one has the most beautiful cover and I can't help to imagine what it's about"

"I see" he whispered, his voice a bit deeper as his eyes landed on your face

"Do you have a problem?" You turned around to see his eyes were not on the shelves

"No, no, not at all. Let us do something. Open the book on any page and read it out loud. Let us judge it, not by the cover but by one page and one page at all”

You smiled widely at the idea and nodded, you moved around to be in front of him, your left shoulder leaning against a bookshelf allowing yourself to feel more relaxed.

“Alright then…” you cleared your throat and questioned where you could split the book, the beginning, the middle or the end. As your long fingers traced the last page, you told yourself that knowing the ending might ruin the whole thing even if it’s a poetry book “Here” you blindly said and split the book “Let me…” you cleared your eyes amidst the dark room

"In halls of opulence, where high society reigns,

A love forbidden, amidst whispered refrains.

She, a maiden of humble birth, with grace and charm untold,

He, a nobleman of lineage, with wealth and power bold.

Their hearts entwined in secret, amidst societal divide,

Forbidden love's sweet agony, where passions dare to hide.

For in their world of privilege, where status reigns supreme,

Their love is but a whisper, in a world of stifled dreams.

Yet in the hush of moonlit nights, beneath the stars' soft gleam,

They steal away in shadows, where love's light doth beam.

For in their hearts' defiance, they find a love divine,

A bond that knows no boundaries, in a world of rigid line.”

Your eyes darted up to look at him, you didn't expect his eyes to be already on you. His eyes had a certain glint, an emotion you could not pinpoint and as you waited, he cleared his throat.

“That was such a heartfelt piece” he nodded

“Very sad,” you said “I wonder if this person wrote it while going through it or wrote it as a memory of what once was”

“Knowing this world we live in, the latter”

“I enjoyed it” You closed the book and smiled at the cover, you could see the outline of the letters, “I’ll keep it for a while”

“Only if you read some to me too, if I have shared this task I shall share the prize”

You giggled “What a prize, a poetry book”

“Time with you I would say,” he said very quickly in a hoarse voice that he didn’t know he could do

Your heart did a thing, it beat hard and quick but also slow and you felt it was going to be out of your chest.

He was not expecting an answer and so he said "Let's get out of here"

"Yes, let's"

Once outside the room and with the book hidden in your dress, Benedict looked both sides of the hallway and gave you the thumbs up and you both made a run for it, a run for the stairs and to the exit door.

And there you stood, with the cool air hitting your face, with a smile so bright Benedict had to squint his eyes, the laughter came, loud and uncontrollably.

"Miss Ashbourne" He said once the laugh died, the joy in his eyes were still present "and I called myself a bad influence once did I not?”

“I learnt from you, Benedict”

It was the sound of his name coming from your mouth that made him shiver. He didn’t know how or why he felt such a pull. Such desire and such attraction. Unequivocally you were beyond what a diamond could be, the face of an angel he confessed but the natural and free aura that you radiated since he had memory is what made him be there with you at most times.

He didn’t know how it happened but he found himself quite close to your figure, under the night sky, he could see the warm lights crashing against your right side and the darkness hiding the left one.

“What is the name of the book?”

He asked such a simple question but with so much passion that if you were not wise enough to understand the tone, you would have thought he felt compelled to have the book right now.

You blinked at the soft wave of his brandy breath and saw the eyes that stared down -because of the height- and how intrigued he looked.

“Entwined”

[buysomecheese]

FUCKED UP THAT SOMEONE CAN SEE THEIR FRIEND IN A VULNERABLE POSITION AND THEN USE THAT TO THEIR ADVANTAGE!!! FUCKED UP THAT HE WOULDN'T TAKE KINDLY TO HIS OTHER FRIENDS HELPING HIM GET OUT OF THAT SITUATION SO WE CAN'T HELP AS MUCH AS WE'D LIKE TO. FUCKED UP THAT SO MANY GOOD THINGS WILL BE TAINTED FOR HIM NOW. FUCKED UP THAT HE'LL LIKELY BE SO CLOSED OFF TO EVERYTHING NOW BECAUSE OF THEM!!!!!

[itoshiexx]

make a wish

synopsis: when you throw a surprise birthday party for rin, he blows the candles and makes a wish only you can turn into reality.

pairing: itoshi rin x fem!reader | words: 1.9k | warnings: childhood friends to (implied) lovers, cursing (rin being rin), rin tells bachira to die (jokingly!!), tooth rotting fluff, kissing, no pronouns but reader is refered as woman and girlfriend once

notes: is my bar exam tomorrow? yes. did i stop reviewing to write this? also yes. happy birthday to my favorite boy ever aka the love of my life aka itoshi pookie rin, I LOVE HIM TO DEATH!!!

masterlist

rin never really cared about his birthday. 

perhaps things were different when he was young, a naive little boy who hadn’t seen the hurt in life and didn’t know the feeling of self hate in such an intrinsic way. but as he grew up, celebrating the day he was born stopped making sense, and eventually his parents stopped trying to throw him parties or do anything special at all. 

as his best friend since childhood, you knew very well about rin’s change of heart, and you respected his wish of not wanting to celebrate. however, that never refrained you from wishing him a happy birthday, even going as far as buying him a little gift sometimes. rin tried to pretend to hate it, but the truth is that he craved hearing those two words from you. no one else’s mattered. 

that being said, he was totally not upset that you forgot his birthday. why would he? it was just a stupid date like any other. well, you never forgot any of his special days ever since he was six, but… so what if you didn’t remember this one? it was fine. rin didn’t care.

(he really fucking cared).

the lights on his bedroom were off, and the younger itoshi found himself moping on his bed, staring at the ceiling as if it could grant his heart’s deepest desires. as if on cue, the noise of a notification ringed through the darkness, and rin begrudgingly picked up his phone to see that you messaged him. he immediately sat up, eyes wide, heart making somersaults inside of his chest. 

the message wasn’t the “happy birthday, rinnie!” that he was secretly expecting.

n/n heyyyy can u come over?

rin scoffed. how dare you ask him to come over to your place if you didn’t even wish him a happy birthday? it was 7pm, for fucks sake — you had plenty of time. he should say no. he was going to say no. but he knew that, no matter how upset he was, there wasn’t a bone in his body that was able to deny you. so he just texted a quick “on my way” before grabbing his car keys and heading to your place. 

the familiar sight of your apartment brought warmth to rin’s chest; your place felt a lot more like home than his own house. he supposed it had something to do with you, though he would never admit that. quickly parking his car, he passed the building entrance and made his way towards the elevator, clicking the button to your floor. his phone vibrated again. 

n/n the door is open, u can come in

he frowned with your recklessness. you were a young woman living alone — how could you leave your door unlocked? it was fucking dangerous! he really needed to scold you for that. it was all he could think about as he twisted the doorknob, already speaking without noticing the lights were off.

“for fucks sake, y/n, would it kill you to lock this fucking door? i told you a million times that it’s dangerous—”

“SURPRISE!”

the lights went on, revealing all of his teammates wearing stupid party hats, confetti flying through the air and your gracious figure in the middle, holding a cake with teal frosting and lit candles. 

what the…?

rin completely froze. his eyes were wide, scanning the room, mind still trying to process what was going on. his body was rigid as no one had ever seen before, and the boys started to gossip between themselves.

“i think we broke him,” bachira whispered. at his side, isagi and reo snickered. 

knowing maybe your best friend was a bit overwhelmed, you slowly approached him until you managed to be the only thing in his field of vision. little did you know that rin always had his eyes on you — he was attracted to your aura like the planets were drawn to the sun. 

“happy birthday, rinnie,” you said, a bit sheepish. carefully, you let the cake on the living room table, having free hands to hug him by the waist. that seemingly broke him from his stupor, as rin instinctively hugged you back and stared at you, mouth still gaping like a fish.

“you… you remembered…”

you grimaced. “of course i did! what do you take me for, itoshi rin?”

“usually you text me as soon as it’s midnight, but you didn’t this time,” he stated, simply. it made you grin.

“aww, was lil’ old rinnie waiting for my message?”

he felt his cheeks heating up, and he pushed your body away before you could hear how fast his heart was beating. “shut up. it’s just weird to not have your dumbass bothering me.”

you laughed. “sure, pretty boy. whatever you say.”

rin’s teammates quickly surrounded him, giving him pats on the back and congratulations. some even brought gifts, though rin told isagi to “eat dick” when the striker handed him a wrapped box. however, despite his harsh words, you could see the inconspicuous smile threatening to break from his face, and that alone made you smile, heart full.

“let’s sing happy birthday!” isagi screamed amongst the commotion, making you remember that you left the cake at the living room table and the candles had most likely been wiped out. 

“no way,” you heard rin say. “i don’t want that shit.”

“oh, come on, rin-chan!” bachira clinged to rin’s shoulders. “y/n-chan went all the way to make you a super special birthday party. you gotta follow the rules, buddy!”

“go die.”

your little laugh brought rin out of his angry stupor, and when he turned around, his breath hitched. now that he wasn’t in a complete state of shock, he could see your delicate features lightened up by the soft glow of the candles, and the gentle smile that made your eyes crease and his heart race every time. and you were looking at him. 

(you were always looking at him).

the guests started singing happy birthday, but rin could only listen to the soft tune coming out of your mouth, as if you two were the only ones in the place. before he could register, the song was over, and everyone was staring at him expectantly. 

“make a wish, rinnie.”

he stared at you for a few seconds, before finally closing his eyes and blowing the candles. everyone cheered, and he couldn’t help letting out a small smile.

idiots, he thought. a whole bunch of idiots.

once the initial shock went by, the party went on normally, with lots of drinking, chatting and the usual bickering. you cut the cake into several pieces and put the slices on small plates, so that everyone could enjoy the sweet flavor. music blasted through the stereo, making bachira and kunigami start a dancing competition, and their moves were so weird your belly hurt from all the laughing. rin was leaning against the wall watching everything with an amused expression.

hours later, as the celebration started to die down, some of rin’s teammates had already gone home, and your apartment was slightly emptier. after saying goodbye to reo and nagi, rin looked around in an attempt to find you, furrowing his eyebrows when he didn’t succeed. 

chigiri quickly noticed his expression, nudging him with his elbow. 

“your girlfriend is on the balcony.”

rin’s grimace worsened. “she’s not my girlfriend.”

isagi, standing at chigiri’s side, only smirked. “not yet.”

the younger itoshi only rolled his eyes, showing him a middle finger. “fuck off, shithead.”

but he followed to the balcony anyway.

as he opened the door, the slight chill of the wind made him wince. he saw your figure leaning on the railing, arms bare due to your choice of outfit — you were beautiful, as always, but it didn’t really match the weather. he didn’t think twice before taking off his jacket and placing them on your shoulders, announcing his arrival. 

you tilted your head up, looking at him with those bambi eyes that nearly made him lose his mind. and then you smiled, getting cozy on his jacket, and he thought he might faint right there. 

fuck, the things you did to him.

“hey there, birthday boy. enjoying your party?”

“it’s cool, i guess.” he shrugged. with his answer, you diverted your gaze to the view, fidgeting with your fingers. he didn’t like your anxiousness.

“i’m sorry if i… you know, if i overstepped.” he gave you a puzzled look. “i know you don’t like to celebrate your birthday, but i thought you deserved to have something cool for once. i just wanted your day to be special.”

rin went silent, your words making his cheeks flush and his heart beat impossibly faster. you were always like this: so thoughtful, so caring… he didn’t even deemed himself worthy of it, yet you seemed to find something decent to cherish.

the words came out broken from his dry mouth, “every day is special if i’m with you.”

your eyes widened slightly, and you finally turned to face him. he took your flustered expression as a good sign, and gathered every ounce of boldness and ego he could manage, “you didn’t give me a gift, though.”

you rolled your eyes, giggling, and twisted your body so that you were facing each other. “is the party not enough, mr. egoist?”

“you answered that for yourself.” he smirked, taking a step closer. 

there was now very little between you both. you could smell his expensive cologne and feel his breath in your face, and you had to fight the urge to cower from those deep aquamarine eyes that left you mesmerized. 

“very well, then. what do you want as a gift?” you asked, mentally praising yourself for not stuttering. 

however, you nearly choked when his eyes went down and stared at your mouth, coming back up only to show a swirl of emotions. desire. affection. love, dare you say. he came even closer, his hands finding home in your hips, and yours instinctively went to his chest. 

“close your eyes,” he whispered, the minty smell of his breath filling all your senses. you obeyed, because itoshi rin had such a grip on you it was nearly ridiculous. 

and then, his lips found yours, delicate and gentle like only you knew he could be. rin kissed you as if you were the only thing that could sate him, as if you were what he has been craving all along. and you kissed him back to let him know you felt the same. 

your arms circled his neck and his hands went up to your waist, tugging you impossibly closer and making you yelp. he took the opportunity to invade your mouth with his tongue, sensually caressing yours in a loving dance, savoring all of you like he wanted for a long time. 

fuck, he thought, it was only the first time and he was already addicted. he couldn’t stop kissing you even if he tried, and even though he intended to steal just one kiss, he was indeed a greedy man — especially when it came to you.

alas, when you finally couldn’t handle the lack of air any longer, you parted, with heavy breaths and faces flushed. you touched your foreheads while calming down, basking in the silence and the warmth of each other’s bodies. 

then, rin smiled, slightly incredulous. “huh.”

“what?” you arched your brow, but you couldn’t help but smile as well. 

he pecked your lips one last time. “i guess birthday wishes do come true.”

© 2023 itoshiexx. do not plagarise, translate, or repost any of my work on here or other sites.

[drak3n]

THE NEMESIS

ꨄ. SYNOPSIS: love and hate are so close to each other for a reason.

ꨄ. CONTENT WARNINGS: slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, friends to strangers to lovers, neglectful parents, love triangles, high school drama, fights, swift mention of a bloody & bruised nose, reader was a misunderstood bully, makeup sex, breeding kink, unprotected sex

ꨄ. SENA'S NOTE: sorry for my inactivity y'all, a lot has been happening lately. anyways, this is over 5k words long so enjoy!

bold italic quotes = letter excerpts

PROLOGUE. | SERIES MASTERLIST.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“it’s embarrassing to admit this, really. after all this time we’ve been apart from each other.”

atsumu and you didn’t always hate each other.

truthfully, you had started off getting along really well, even better than you’d gotten along with osamu. it was something no one could explain, until it all fell apart.

your story went all the way back to your second year of middle school, where the miyas had to move due to the twins’ mother having found a job on the other side of the prefecture. that meant the twins had to transfer schools as well.

it wasn’t like either of the two had difficulties at adapting to their new environments, given that they were quite popular because of their athleticism and their looks. even at their new school, their talent for volleyball made them climb up the ladder of fame in no time.

this is where you came in. a mean, popular girl who had no qualms about making other kids feel worse about themselves. everyone was careful not to cross paths with you or get on your bad side, afraid of your wrath.

the twins had been warned about your presence that lingered like a devil on the school grounds. “she hates boys who are loud and eccentric,” a classmate had told the two, and the younger twin shot a pointed look at the older, which made him glare back at him.

“the hell are ya starin’ at me for, samu!?”

“nothin’.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“you were the first person to approach me, although you knew what others thought of me. we were kids back then, but i haven’t forgotten.”

it was both a blessing and a curse to be avoided by everyone. you had your peace and no one was there to mess with you, but at times, it was really boring.

lunch breaks had to be the worst. if you ate your lunch at the hall, everyone would avoid you like the pest. you’d have a table that ten students could use, for yourself.

it was cold outside today, but you still sat on the bench in the yard, ignoring your growling stomach. your mother hadn’t been packing you lunch in a while, and you couldn’t find anything to shove into your bag last minute in the morning.

counting the coins you found in the pockets of your thin coat, you determined with a frown that it was nowhere near enough to buy even a cereal bar.

you could just bully some of the juniors into giving you money or their lunch. before you could stand up and march towards an innocent group of schoolkids playing tag on the other side of the yard, someone sat next to you.

your eyes narrowed at the sight of one of the new kids. you had no idea which of the two it was, given that you couldn’t distinguish a difference between them, and frankly, you didn’t really care. neither of the two shared a class with you anyway.

“hi, i’m atsumu, the older and cool twin!” he introduced himself, running a chubby hand through his thick, brown hair parted on the right. come to think of it, their hair was parted on different sides.

“whad’ya have for lunch? wanna swap? you can have my vegetables and cheese sandwich.” your eyes wandered down to the open box in his lap, filled with delicious bread and vegetables that made your mouth water. you haven’t even had breakfast this morning.

“why are you talking to me?” big, brown eyes widened at you dismissing him, when other girls would die for his attention. “i’ve already eaten.”

the loud growling of your stomach made you clutch your upper body, cheeks flaring in shame as the brunette grinned.

“liar! ya can have mine, y’know. here ya go.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“you were so obnoxious and insufferable to most, but i didn’t see that. i couldn’t care less about what you were like, when you were so nice to me.”

it hadn’t taken you too long to finally notice other differences between the twins. because sometimes when standing in front of either of them, you couldn’t quite tell if the part was on the left or right.

osamu’s eyes were a dark gray, while atsumu’s were brown, like molten chocolate. atsumu would always sound excited, his voice distinguishable from miles away, while osamu was more reserved and preferred calmness.

except for when the two were together, of course. atsumu was quite against introducing you to him, complaining to you that people always ended up liking his brother more, much to his chagrin.

but you were so alone all the time, so he dragged you along to watch him practice one day.

“hey… is that that girl?”

your body language was tense, the discomfort written all over your face as you gazed holes into the floors of the gym, where teammates of the twins were whispering among each other.

“i don’t think they want me here.” you didn’t look sad when you said it, nor did you look upset, it seemed like you’d already accepted it. atsumu had known you for weeks, and osamu had just met you, but it was the first time the two stepped up to defend someone instead of bickering at each other like they did all the time.

“hey, ya pricks! are ya not ashamed to be pickin’ on a girl?”

it had resulted in a fight, with the other members of the volleyball team complaining loudly about how atsumu was such a loudmouth despite being new, telling him to shut up.

it was the wrong timing perhaps, because punches started being thrown, but as you intervened and kicked the boys who dared to lay a hand on either of the twins, a feeling of fuzzy warmth spread inside of you as you could only think of the boy who shared his lunches with you.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“sometimes, i wish i could go back to relive those days. what i wouldn’t do to have you share one of your lunchboxes with me or have you include me in your life one more time.”

middle school seemed to pass in a blur, and you three graduated together, already knowing you’d be attending the same high school.

neither of you had the best grades or the best reputation, but at the end of the day, you happily held the certificates in your hands, having the twins’ parents snap photos of you three. one of those photos that had been taken that day, with atsumu and you shyly standing next to each other, would soon be framed and placed on your nightstand.

your parents didn’t attend. the sight of all students being hugged, kissed and celebrated by their families, while you were on your own chipped away at your heart.

“hey!” atsumu’s loud voice pulled you out of your train of thoughts, and he pointed at his parents looking through osamu’s report while smiling. “what’re ya bein’ so gloomy for? my parents are waitin’!”

with furrowed brows, you stared at the brunette, not quite understanding what he meant by that. you were going to head home, why would mr. and mrs. miya be waiting for you?

“we’re goin’ to this great barbecue place at the mall!” atsumu had told you about it before, the miyas had a tradition of going there for birthdays or other celebrations. it almost made you envious, because you didn’t have that.

“is that so?” you smiled at him, “have fun, tsumu. i’ll see you after the holidays.”

before you could turn around and leave, the boy tugged at your sleeve, pulling you back and towards his parents. you were stunned.

“i saved up all year to pay for yer meal! made my parents reserve an extra seat for you!”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“it all went to hell when my pride got in the way. when you started hanging out with that girl, and i felt threatened by her.”

it was in your second year of high school when things had started shifting between you two. you were more than used to the fans who went crazy for the two, which progressively started getting unbearable at some point.

flooded lockers with letters and chocolates they’d share with you, countless confessions you’d hear and see, and girls bombarding you with favors of getting them closer to either of the twins.

you could live with that. after all, they weren’t popular for no reason. they were handsome, very much so, and they were volleyball prodigies, scoring countless points for inarizaki at each game.

there was one girl who had gotten atsumu’s attention as much as he had gotten hers. they were in the same class, too. it was osamu who told you they had started hanging out when you were surprised about them going to get lunch together, with him nudging her side and making her chuckle.

you had woken up half an hour earlier just to prepare a lunchbox you could share with the blonde. but at the end of the day, you sullenly sat at the same table with osamu and the rest of the team, staring at the untouched food. the atmosphere was awkward, and the boys exchanged glances, clueless as to if they should speak up and ask you what’s wrong.

“that looks really good.” of course suna was the first to talk, narrow eyes peering over at your lunch. “why aren’t ya eatin’ it?”

aran shook his head at the middle blocker’s directness, and osamu frowned when you shoved the pink box towards suna, no more having an appetite after watching atsumu and that girl sitting together. “you can have it.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“jealousy is truly an ugly thing. so is love. it makes you do questionable things. but all i wanted was to protect you from heartbreak, even if it was at the expense of my own heart.”

the more time atsumu spent with her, the more worried you got. especially since there was some sort of sixth sense telling you that she was bad news.

you hated her for taking atsumu away from you, yes. but if she had been good for him, you would’ve accepted it, no matter how difficult. it was just that you knew she was no good.

“‘samu, i heard her talking to her girl friends in the dressing rooms after P.E.” you had bolted to osamu’s desk before the class would start, hair disheveled from the former class, and you were out of breath.

the younger miya quirked a thick brow at your words, “emma, you mean?” you nodded frantically, “she’s just using him for popularity. said she wants to dump him when he gets famous after high school, and she does too.”

osamu wasn’t really interested in entertaining any drama, especially when it came to his annoying brother. he could see how concerned you were for him though, and he couldn’t blame you for it. atsumu was very important to you, after all.

“are ya sure?” it wasn’t like he didn’t believe you. he just thought it might be a stretch. how was emma going to lead atsumu on for over a year, and how could she be so sure that he was going to be famous after high school?

“maybe she was just kiddin’. are ya sure you’re not just jealous?”

you were biting your lip, looking truly troubled. you did not want to ruin things, but you had to help atsumu get away from that bitch. you could not allow her to ruin him.

“‘samu, i—”

“atsumu is 17. neither of us should have t’tell him what to do. he has to learn himself.”

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“i had never planned on taking osamu’s advice from the second i heard it. in my mind, the only reasonable thing was to make her stay away from you.”

it was exactly a week later after gym class that you cornered the same girl against the lockers. no one else was around, and with a hand against her mouth, you made sure she didn’t call for any help.

“what are you—” a surprised squeal left her lips when you slammed her back against the locker one more time, to make her shut up. with wide eyes, she looked into yours that were void of any emotion.

she knew who you were. the twin’s childhood friend, atsumu’s close friend. too close for the brunette’s liking.

“listen,” you warned her, glowering at her like she was your worst enemy, “i know what you’re plannin’. i will tell you this this just this once: stay away from him.”

you thought it would have been enough to seperate those two, to keep atsumu safe. to have him back.

of course it wouldn’t be. you couldn’t have known. it wasn’t until the very next day that it all backfired. when you entered the school grounds in the morning, school bag thrown over your shoulder and lunch prepared in hopes of getting to spend time with atsumu today after a long time, you soon noticed that something was off.

everyone was staring at you, whispering and gossiping. it was an all-too familiar sight to you, it was nothing new. ignoring it all, you proceeded to your locker that was next to atsumu’s. just to be greeted by emma leaning against yours, arms crossed in front of her chest as she wore a hoodie you’d recognize anywhere. it belonged to atsumu.

“move,” you gritted your teeth as you forced your eyes away from the hoodie, ready to shove her aside. “or what?” she feigned a pout, kicking against the locker to get everyone’s attention on you two, her voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “gonna threaten and hurt me again to get what ya want? because you can’t handle that he never wanted you?”

everything around you got quiet, students looking at each other in disbelief, and your hands clenched into tight fists. still, you kept quiet, knowing it would be bad if you caved in first.

“oh wait, could it be?” she suddenly clapped her hands together, chuckling while you deadpanned at her, seemingly unaffected by her attitude, when in reality, you were boiling from the inside out. “did you really think he’d choose you over me? he would never stoop so low! in fact, he actually told me you were not—”

everything happened fast after that. she was on the floor before she could blink, screaming as your enraged self was on top of her, seeing red. it was when you were at the principal’s office with cotton up your bleeding and bruised nose, and the scratches on your cheeks from when emma’s friends had dragged you off of her, that you finally realized what you’d done.

it only filled you with regret when atsumu came to cradle a crying, hurt emma in his arms, yelling at you to never, ever look at either of the two again.

maybe you should have listened to osamu, after all.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“school after that was hell for me, understandably. i couldn’t blame anyone for not talking to me anymore, most of all, you. i didn’t have the right to be hurt by you taking emma to that barbecue place with your parents after high school graduation… but i cried a lot that day.”

osamu had tried to get atsumu to talk to you again. to not be so mad at you. but the blonde was blind to the eyes and deaf to whatever his brother would tell him, so he eventually gave up on that, too.

you were too prideful and hurt to approach atsumu either, pretending that you hated him for having done this to you. he was the cause that you were a loser again. that you lost the only people you had in your life.

couldn’t he just have treasured you more?

it was on the day of your high school graduation that you asked the younger twin to talk for just a minute. gray-haired boy looked down at you, round eyes blinking multiple times as you offered him a small smile.

“i just wanted to let you know that i’m moving to tokyo for college.” he just stared at you, knowing very damn well you weren’t in the mood to smile like you were doing right now. “i heard you’re opening a shop soon. maybe our paths will cross again one day.”

when osamu didn’t say anything, you took it as a hue to leave, again having neither of your parents to share your success of having graduated with you. you rummaged in your bag before you could leave though, holding a letter in your hand that your fingers were itching to hand to him. “can you just give this to—”

actually, no. it didn’t matter.

with glassy eyes, you dropped the envelope back into your bag, zipping it shut. “forget it. take care, ‘samu.”

you cried on your entire way home, until you went to sleep that night.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

“i regret not having given osamu that letter to this day, even years later. i’ve just recently added these paragraphs, because i’ve made up my mind to make this letter reach you anyway.”

the volleyball match playing on the tv served as background noise while you went through the cleaned kitchen at the hotel restaurant you’d worked at. everyone else had left already, and all that was done was to check the inventory and make sure everything was where it should be.

while checking off certain tasks you had to make sure were done, you halfway listened to the interviews after the match was over. it hadn’t even dawned on you that it was his team that had played today.

“is there anything you want to tell your fans after the great victory today, miya-san?”

your entire body froze, pen dropping on the list as your tired eyes wandered to the television. he looked breathtaking as ever, even when he was covered in sweat.

“i wanna say somethin’ to a certain someone, actually.” his grin made your heart stop, baring his pearly whites as his voice was slightly hoarse from all the yelling on the court. “i’m sure she’s watchin’ this right now.”

the reporter looked at atsumu with a curious, bright smile as she waited for him to continue, microphone right below his panting mouth. “who’s the lucky woman?” she questioned, which made him beam at the cameras.

you didn’t feel addressed, too certain that he had another lover he wanted to say something to. about to turn the tv off and announce your work as done for the night, you were stopped when he opened his mouth again.

“my nemesis, you could say,” he took a deep breath after answering the shorter woman’s question, “i got your letter. you know where i’ll be!”

this couldn’t be a coincidence. you had missed today’s airing of TO ALL THE MEN YOU’VE LOVED BEFORE, and they had confirmed that atsumu had gotten the letter. it had to be you, there was no way he meant someone else.

after a quick research, you found out that the match was indeed aired live and had taken place in hyogo, where both of you had grown up in. where you had moved back to after college, because tokyo wasn’t your home, hyogo was.

you knew exactly which place atsumu hinted at, and like a flash, you passed by the hotel lobby to speed towards the location.

it hadn’t even taken you ten minutes to arrive at the school gates of inarizaki high school. it had been a stupid pinky promises between you two while you were still on talking term; to meet where things ended, shall they ever end.

standing at that spot made your gut churn with negative and positive feelings. things had ended indeed, heartbreakingly so. but perhaps this was a chance to make up again. to start from zero.

you waited for at least an hour, you were sure. time didn’t seem to pass like this, and the more you grew aware that it didn’t, the more agitated you became.

what if he didn’t show up?

what if he showed up, just to tell you to go fuck yourself?

“what am i even doing?” you laughed breathlessly, fiddling with the car keys in your pocket. you should just leave. this was absolutely stupid and delusional of you, to actually hope you were going to make up.

“hey.”

stopping in your tracks, you grew aware of the person dressed in black, standing in front of you. they were wearing a mask and had a hood over their head, and they could’ve just been a criminal about to rob you of your money, but you’d recognize those eyes and that voice from anywhere.

this time, you didn’t wait. you didn’t let your pride hold you back as you ran into his arms, dwarfed up by his massive body that had just gotten even bigger over the years. his arms caged you in his form, swallowing all your sobs and cries in his fluffy, black hoodie as he stood still, rubbing the back of your head in soothing circles.

he was there. atsumu actually came. he came to see you. he didn’t hate you anymore.

“i’m so sorry,” you cried for the fiftieth time in five minutes, barely able to pull away as snot and tears ran down your exhausted face. his heart broke at the sight, his own eyes blurring with a wave of tears. “i’m sorry for everything, ‘tsumu. please, please forgive—”

with gentle, warm hands placed on your damp cheeks, tracing over the scars that had been left on you from that fight, he shushed you. “it’s okay.” you hated the mask for muffling his beautiful voice, and you felt your heart crack when a tear slid down his eye, disappearing under the mask. “i’m the one who should be sorry. i was the worst to you. you didn’t deserve any of it.”

he started sniffling, and your mind went blank, eyes wide as you grabbed onto his hands, shaking him softly. “no, no,” you begged him, “i don’t want you to cry. please don’t cry. i made a mistake, i messed it up, not you!”

the setter found himself melting at your touches, letting you pull off his hood and pull down his mask to reveal his face under the night sky. his lips wobbled, nose and cheeks reddening as tears fell from his big, brown hues.

“i deserved your hatred, ‘tsumu.” your hands were cold on his skin as you wiped his tears the second you saw them. he shook his head, “don’t say that. how could i ever hate you?”

with your fingers interlaced, both of you still in a daze, squeezing each other’s hand so tightly to realize that this was real, you took him to your place. because neither of you wanted to let go.

atsumu could cry when he saw the picture of you two from your middle school graduation in one of your cupboards on the wall next to the tv in your living room. what did make him break down was seeing that one hairpin he’d gifted you on your 13th birthday right in front of the framed picture.

“‘samu never stopped talking about you and how sad you looked at our high school graduation.” his reddened eyes didn’t leave the picture even when you stood next to him, almost as if he was too ashamed to look at you. “i’m really sorry. i truly am.”

you smiled up at him nostalgically, like you’d always do back then. he caught it from his peripheral, and it made his heart skip a beat. “we were teenagers, ‘tsumu,” you assured him while your hand traced over his broad shoulders. “things happen. i think i had to lose you to grow up and realize things.”

his body finally turned to you to face you. his hair was a softer, lighter blonde now, nearly white. it looked fluffier, too. his cheekbones were more sculpted, and you could feel the slightest stubble on his chin.

no matter how many years would pass, you’d always be in love with each and every version of atsumu.

“realize what?” his features were soft, thick eyebrows raising in question while you looked away bashfully. you’d written it in the letter. he just wanted you to say it out loud, because he was dying to hear you say it.

“atsumu, i…” you started, playing with the collar of his hoodie. he stopped breathing. “i’ve been in love with you since forever. since the very first time you shared your lunch with me.”

the cat was out of the bag. you exhaled a shaky breath, and before you could muster up the courage to look back at the now professional athlete, he beat you to it. atsumu was always bold. he took what he wanted, with no shame. he made you realize this once again when he planted his lips on you immediately after tilting your face up.

one short kiss was enough for you to ask more. now that you had him in your arms again, you wanted all of him. you had waited so long for the impossible to happen. and now that you finally had it…

“‘tsumu. kiss me again, please.”

so he did. again and again. to show you how sorry he was, to show you that he hadn’t meant any of the crap he had pulled on you years ago. he was a dumb prick, and he won’t ever forgive himself for what he’d done. he had missed out on so much with you, and he saw that one more time when you were seated on his lap in the dim living room, hovering above him needily.

you were all he ever needed. it felt like now he had you back again, a gap had been filled inside of him. one that nothing and no one was able to fill. no one could ever replace you, no emma, no girl, no one.

every kiss and touch was followed by him muttering apologies into your skin, worshipping your skin like it was holy. handling you with utmost care like you were made out of porcelain. he watched you fall apart from him just fondling you through your clothes.

“p—please, i need—” you sucked in a breath when you felt his bulge pressing through his sweatpants, prodding at your slacks. “need you, please. want to be yours.”

atsumu hummed into your neck as his strong hands carefully took off your blouse, revealing your bra-clad chest. “y’look so sexy in these clothes,” he mumbled, admiring the sight of you shakily unbuttoning your pants. “wanna see you in them every day when you go to work and when you come home.”

you whined at his lowly spoken words, letting him help you take off your pants. your clammy hands tugged at his hoodie and sweatpants that were soon gone as well, pooling at the floor.

atsumu’s body looked absolutely gorgeous. the second it was revealed to you, you traced your fingers over every ridge and cranny of his arms and upper body, sucking marks on and kissing his supple, firm skin that was still so soft.

“baby,” atsumu huffed, feeling his cock twitching at every single movement of yours. you were driving him crazy. “lemme do the rest, kay? i want tonight t’be all about you.”

nodding softly, you waited with bated breath as atsumu unclasped your bra and let it thud to the floor, joining the rest of your clothes. the way he licked his lips and groaned made you soak through your panties. moans and whimpers freely spilled from your glossy mouth once he latched his soft lips onto one of the mounds, while his hand paid attention to the other, twirling your hardened nipple between warm fingers.

“perfect tits,” he panted into your chest, looking up to meet your gaze as he licked his wet lips. “yer perfect, darlin’. everything about you is.” stammering pleas for atsumu to continue while you ran your fingers through his soft strands, you shuddered upon his unoccupied hand wandering down your stomach, until it settled at the hem of your lace panties.

“want me to go on, baby?”

his eyes were blown wide in lust and desire, fingers digging into your skin enough to leave marks. you bit your lip, whimpering through your teeth as you nodded. “yes, please, atsumu...”

atsumu knew you were wet from how you’d soaked the front of his light gray boxers, but actually feeling how aroused you were made him utter curses. it was so much, and you produced even more slick with just a single touch. how fucking adorable.

“so, so wet,” he groaned as one of his fingers slipped inside your clenching hole so easily, “fuck, so tight n’ warm. yer gonna make me cum, princess. fuck…”

he couldn’t wait to feel you around his cock. couldn’t wait to be engulfed by your warmth, to feel all of you. with big, wide eyes, he watched as you came undone on his fingers in just a minute, clutching his bare, sculpted shoulders while you creamed on his long digits. it was the prettiest thing he’d ever seen, and he wanted more.

“‘tsumu—” your thighs were shaking, and you kissed his jaw sloppily. “wan’ me to suck you off?” you couldn’t be serious. atsumu was literally seconds from creaming in his boxers, and you offered a blowjob to him so sweetly? he had to physically keep you in place to stop your hips from moving.

“no, i wanna feel your pretty pussy ‘round my dick,” he panted, and you obediently reached your deft fingers to pull at the waistband of his boxers. despite both of you being very desperate and impatient, you still took the time to take off each other’s underwear.

it was the need to be connected without anything disrupting you, rather than to ravage each other. although you were aware that if atsumu wasn’t going to dick you down in this very moment, you were going to explode.

you saw a glimpse of atsumu’s girthy and gorgeous cock before it started disappearing inside of your awaiting cunt. his hands gripped your hips tightly, keeping you still, while you mewled and sighed into his neck.

“how d’ya feel, angel?” atsumu’s voice was serene, calm, as he enjoyed the warmth he was buried inside of to the hilt. he was never going to let you go again, ever. “f—feels… so full,” you whined, raising your head from his shoulder to look into his eyes. “y’re so big, ‘tsumu. so warm. love it.”

leaning back against the back of the couch, the blonde started a sensual and slow pace, and you felt so overwhelmed that you didn’t know any better than to kiss him. moving your hips back and forth with his hands guiding you, you swallowed each other’s moans of passion and love, tongues clashing and lips molding together and becoming one.

atsumu and you were made for each other. you were made to be with him. you were each other’s destiny.

“i love you,” you started crying when the sensation started building inside of your gut, threatening to snap. “love you s’much, ‘tsumu. i love you so much.” atsumu kissed your tears away, listening to you babbling confessions and apologies as you kept clenching around him as if you wanted him inside of you forever.

“i love you too,” he grunted, punctuating his words with harder and faster snaps of his hips against your heat. the sounds of squelches and moans echoed across your apartment that had been empty and devoid of life and love for years. “will never let you go again. i’m so sorry.”

atsumu knew he was nearing his release, and his eyes frantically looked for yours, sweat clinging to his forehead and body as his hair stuck to his face. you were cross-eyed, digging your nails into his shoulders as if you wanted him even closer.

“need t’cum inside of you, angel,” atsumu hissed the more you tightened around him, nearly trapping him inside of you. “can i fill you up? please, please…”

nodding mindlessly, you wrapped your arms around atsumu’s neck, working you both towards a release. you were the first to cave in, hips stilling as you let out a high-pitched moan while waves of white came crashing down.

with a slack jaw and eyes rolled back into his skull, atsumu started releasing spurts of his warm seed into your womb, cock twitching until his balls were empty while you relished in his warmth he had shared with you.

neither of you moved, not even minutes later, feeling like you have melted into one body. the silence in the apartment finally felt peaceful instead of haunting, the second pair of eyes in it filling you with a sense of home.

atsumu’s fingers combed through your damp hair while you laid your head on his built chest, listening to his calming heartbeat. it was a matter of time till this tranquil moment was going to vanish.

“i must say, thinking about you having fought for me is really hot—” you cut him off by pinching the tender skin on his chest, which made him yelp. “ow!”

“i hate you, atsumu.”

you knew damn well you didn’t.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ♡•°`.

[britney-rosberg06]

Liam Lawson on F1 accessibility and Ollie Bearman:

“I would say maybe, it’s becoming more clear-it’s hard because obviously I don’t wanna just speak for myself but just using Ollie [Bearman] as an example-how potentially accessible formula 1 is for the younger sort of generation and us trying to step into it. I think in my experience it’s not so much driving the car but everything else that comes with Formula 1-the pressure, the media side of it the atmosphere-it’s very very different to what anything else we’ve raced. But the driver part of it sort of how accessible it is. I think from the simulator work and preparation that we do that someone like Ollie is able to jump into the car and be on the pace and do such a good job”

THIS is it!! This is what we’re saying! Liam and Ollie both performed superbly when given the opportunity to do so. It’s clear that the F1 car is manageable for someone making a quick jump from F2 or older F1 cars. When-in my experience-the reason teams have been hesitant maybe to bring in younger talent like Liam and Ollie is cause of the difference in the car. Liam and Ollie have both said that’s not true and they both did quite well through several tough races in Liam’s case like Singapore and Qatar.

It’s for reasons like what Liam says that we need to either push out some of the guys who aren’t performing at their level (*cough* Ricciardo *cough*) or open up the sport to more teams! If Andretti had gotten their bid accepted, Liam Lawson might not have to wait around for DR to get his head out of Chr*stian Horners ass and retire and he could have a seat for 2025. Cause until that happens, and until other teams make moves to push out their older competitors. Liam (and Ollie, sort of) can’t join F1.

And another problem this raises, is that either of them could have a seat next year. If teams weren’t so scared of missing out on the next Max Verstappen.

Toto Wolff practically has the seat reserved for Kimi Antonelli and he will do whatever it takes to either get it to him in 2025, or blow off that year to wait for Kimi in 2026. Meaning that Liam and Ollie would be left on their asses if either if them signed to Merc. And this isn’t hate to Kimi! This is simply a criticism of the teams only taking younger talent when they’re considered prodigious.

If they signed to a lower grid team like Haas-who we know are in tentative talks with Ollie-or Sauber or Alpine then they will underperform to their potential because the car they drive is shitty but they’ll be the ones blamed for it due to “lack of experience” and teams can continue to make the claim that the F2 to F1 jump is too big and the cycle repeats perpetually until it��s just not worth it and we the fans lose out on potential great talent. Even though drivers who have been in the sport for years can underperform in the same car and it’s fine!

It doesn’t make sense, truly, for them to not trust younger talent when Zak Brown and Mclaren have signed the youngest pairing on the grid, who after updates last year to the car, were pretty consistent with placing in the points and earned them several podiums.

Also, look at how much good the 2019 rookies ended up being for the sport. 3 childhood friends entered into F1, there were highs, lows, etc they each got their shot to prove themselves and now. One is working to rebuild a historic team, one is outperforming a 7 time champion (again no hate just observation) and one is considered to be apart of the team that can take the fight to RedBull and Ferrari

It just doesn’t make sense when young drivers get passed up even when they prove themselves in favor of relying on middling drivers who’s time in the sun have kind of passed on.

Anyway, I hope Liam and Ollie get a seat next year. I hope Kimi Antonelli does what’s best for him as a kid rather than what is best for his career. I hope Daniel Ricciardo gets kicked out mid season. And I hope the next time a team comes in trying to join F1, they can actually do it

[stickyspeckledlight]

Despite Everything, You Still Exist [Yan!Aventurine x Reader]

The short moments when the world remembers you. Hypothetical HSR voice lines based on Sunrise, Sunset, My Destroyed Body In the Onset. Can be read as standalone, though.

Notes: Lol I had some thoughts and doing this right now will mitigate my uncontrollable hype for when 2.1 is out later tonight. (From the future: lol 2.1 is out now ahaha)

Ao3

The air rings with the sound of cranking slots, spinning roulette, fallen chips, and spilled cards. Some visit for reasons outside the sound; the bar's happy hour, a good meal at the buffet, and the venue where musicians of middling to great renown play. They merely chatter amongst themselves, occasionally sparing a look to the many games at play, perhaps spending a few credits if they want to test their luck. But the ones of note are always the ones playing the game. For some, the sound of a shuffling deck of cards is as familiar as the back of their hand, and they cannot stand to be away from it for more than a day lest they live with the emptiness of their soul. Some have already accomplished much, do not know what they want anymore, and are just here to pass the time. Some are fools, believing they can strike a fortune and climb to the heavens. They feel the most, celebrating triumph and wallowing in despair alike.

But those who stand out most are those who decide to test their luck knowing of destiny's inherent unjustness.

Chat: Limits

"Most people do all they can to live within their limits. Whether it be maintaining their mundane routine, keeping to themselves, or turning away from things that pose too much risk to them. When most reach their limit, they tend to completely shut down, and give up—they dread that risk. What most people don’t realize though is that in breaking limits, you go beyond them. My friend, if you ever see someone reach their limit...pushing them past it will yield something truly special or, if you’re lucky, a destructive yet breathtaking beauty."

Chat: Lovely Things

“What do I like? Trying to gauge my weaknesses now are we? …oh? You just want to get me something out of the sheer goodness of your heart? Aw, you’re too sweet; my friend, we’ve already established such a great bond, you and I, so there is no need to exchange gifts between us! And, gift giving always does bring about jealousy; you wouldn’t want to incite that, would you? Besides, I doubt you could gift me anything lovelier than I already have.

Chat: Change

“Change is a wonderful thing! It keeps things from getting stale and predictable and is the prime ingredient for anything unexpected. Change doesn’t necessarily mean massive shifts like how most people envision, and I wholeheartedly believe one’s own self can remain consistent even with change. Speaking of changes to one’s self…heh, no matter how happy they may be as and with their changed self, a part of them will always mourn the person they used to be…even if the person of old runs counter to their changed self. Hm? A distant look in my eye? Nonsense, my friend! Just think of this as some helpful advice, free of charge. I do hope you’ll be able to put it to practice—I think we’d both hate if I were disappointed, after all.”

Casinos are ultimately reprieve, but eventually, one must return to their obligations. One can’t gamble without money, and money must be made from working. Work comes in many different forms—some work aims to increase other’s gains, some to increase its own, others to retrieve the money which is owed. These individuals are not so hard to find at the casino—like moths to a flame they aim to win with the wealth accrued by another, only to find themselves stripped of it unwittingly. It is easy to rig the game when the opponent believes they are the master. Chat: Interesting People

“My work takes me all over the place, so I get a lot of opportunities to meet all sorts of people! Granted, it’s my work that also causes a lot of meetings to not be on especially amicable terms too. And some of the people I have to deal with are…well, there’s a reason I keep a pistol with me. The best meetings though are when you’re off the clock and free to just wander about! Souvenir shopping, trying out local cuisines and experiencing its culture can be pretty nice, and it’s when me and Numby are just out and about where we meet many. I’m sure you Astral Expressers can relate to that. But, as with all things, some particularly stand out even when you don’t expect. Like, a little while ago, I finally finished a project—a big one that had some of us Stonehearts coming together—and I met this rather pleasant individual. Nice, polite, and their sense of humor wasn’t half bad; even gave me some pastries they made! A short but sweet conversation. But…there was just something…off, about them. My instincts are pretty good when it comes to these sort of things; it’s like…they were keeping themselves at a weird distance. Even though I deal with that a ton during negotiations, this time it just felt odd in a particular way, yet quite uncomfortably familiar. But it was after we said our goodbyes and I saw them again. I don’t know what happened, but then I saw the expression on their face, and…I know what that odd feeling is now. Maybe I should reach out, that guy isn’t exactly…o-oh, sorry! I got a little carried away, didn’t I? And I did sort of lead you on with starting things so lightheartedly…here, why don’t I make it up to you? A few Aetherium Wars booster packs, maybe?”

How do people lose money like this, though? Many go into the casino with the belief it is fair and just, not understanding just how rigged the game is. “Shed any and all illusions of outwitting the system,” one is told, left with nothing when they could not draw an ace of spades.

They are here because for many reasons: circumstance, unfortunate luck and their own hubris. And in that last reason lies the penultimate behind their misfortune: ignorance.

Chat: Willful Ignorance

“Ignorance is a horrid malady, but like all forms of malaise there are multiple variations. The most common is unwillful—what most think of when thinking of ignorance. Cures differ from individual to individual of course, but they tend to be the most simple affair; simple pedagogy does wonders in establishing a baseline knowledge, and for matters of great specificity or those already with baseline knowledge, a few thorough lectures are the ultimate vaccine. Willful ignorance, however, is a much different matter. Its cause is not rooted in the absence of knowledge, but of cognitive dissonance—you find it especially amongst those who have aged, already set in their ways and unwilling to engage with anything to broaden their horizons. For this, treatment must be thorough and harsh; it cannot be absolved without stripping down a patient’s worldview, lens, and grip of reality. But this is not the most vexing form. The hardest ignorance to cure is the one taken on fully aware, knowing it is false and knowing of its folly but nevertheless live by it; you look confused, so I’ll put it in simpler terms: a patient who isn’t ignorant, far from it even, but still lives their life as if they were. Curing this places patients in a rather volatile state. This ignorance is often the patient’s way of coping with a situation, when they’ve exhausted all other forms of protection. …But, I am a scholar. Advancements are not made by talking, it is through action, and eventually, I will be the one to make it. …I simply hope I can make it in time.”

But nothing lasts forever. The patrons return home, drunk or penniless, and the sound drowns out. Staff emerge from their shadows and silently do their part in crafting the honey trap, but even they must leave, and the lights are shut.

[bimoonphases]

@wolfstarmicrofic May 6 - prompt : First Kiss [word count 974]

James knew this would happen sooner or later. Sooner rather than later, given the number of times Remus and Sirius had bickered that week. They usually calmed down enough only when the Marauders planned their pranks and got out of Gryffindor Tower in the dead of the night to execute them. As had been the case that night, at least until they had been putting in place the very last touches and had rounded a corner only to find themselves in front of Mrs Norris. That had ended with them running away as fast as they could and only James’s cloak had saved them from Filch, who had as usual appeared out of nowhere as if summoned by his cat. And when they had finally reached their empty Common Room, the bickering had started again. Only this time it had escalated.

“So much for your wolf’s hearing, Moony,” Sirius rolled his eyes. “You can’t even hear a fucking cat.”

“Oh, my hearing? What about your nose, Padfoot?” Remus shot back. “I’m not the only one here who didn’t see her coming.”

“Oh, so your sight is gone too? Because if you hadn’t noticed, I’m in human form now.”

“If you can call that human, you look more like a walking poster of Bowie right now.”

“How dare you insult Bowie.”

“I’m not, I’m just questioning your taste in clothes.”

“Right, grampa has spoken. You look like you should be put in an archaeological museum every time you’re out of uniform.”

“At least my clothes are comfortable, you’re always running around half naked. Did you know crop tops were made for summer and not fucking December?”

“The only hotness I need is my own, thank you.”

“Merlin, you’re so self-centered!” Remus threw his hands up in exasperation.

“Centre of attention, there’s a difference.”

“Right, I forgot about all of your girlfriends. By the way, do they know about each other?”

“You’re one to talk, the other day that boy Gregory was practically drooling just looking at you!”

“I tutor them, I don’t end up making out with them in every single corridor I walk through!”

“Oh, I’m sorry I’m having fun while you break your back on books!”

“At least I get good grades while yours are dropping.”

“Never cared about them. While you do too much apparently.”

“You’re going to fail your OWLS if you go on like this.”

“Like you care.”

“I do care! I want you to do good, why do you think I don’t? But you apparently care more about snogging girls than your own future!”

“I don’t want to think about my future!” Sirius screamed. “I refuse to think about it! Because if I do, the only thing I see is the future my parents are planning for me and I don’t want that!”

There was a moment of silence. James shot a look at Peter, tense like he was. He had lost count of the times Sirius had crawled in his bed in the middle of the night, shaking after a nightmare, terrified of what his parents would do to him come this Christmas break. He knew Sirius had only told him the extent of his fear, that he preferred to keep on a brave face in front of the rest of their friends, especially Remus, whom he admired a lot despite all the tension between them.

“I don’t want the good grades they expect me to have! I don’t want to be their obedient son, I don’t want them to still have the hold they have on my little brother, I don’t want my surname to be theirs anymore! And I don’t want to look like them in the way I dress, I don’t want them to cut my hair again, I don’t even want to snog all those girls!”

Sirius stopped, panting, his eyes now filled with tears James knew he would do anything to push back. Remus was looking at him, paler than usual.

“What do you want then?” he asked slowly.

Sirius sighed, a tired sigh, a sigh of defeat. He moved a hand.

“You,” he whispered. “I want you, Moony.”

Remus’s jaw dropped open.

“What?” he said.

“Why do you think I always have a Bowie shirt on? He’s a god, yes, but he’s your favourite singer. Why do you think I hate that boy Gregory? Because he has a very blatant crush on you!”

“He doesn’t,” Remus shook his head.

“How would you know? You don’t look at him, exactly like you don’t look at me, not in that way. Why do you think I always have girls around? Because I can’t have you!”

“Sirius, I…”

“Why do you think we’re always bickering? Because that’s the only moment you pay me attention, the only moment in which you see me and if we have to fight for me to get just a sliver of your interest then so be it!”

Sirius had lost the fight with his tears, because James saw one roll down his cheek. But before he could brush it away, Remus had crossed the space dividing them and had taken Sirius’s face in his hands, diving in and kissing him. The strangled sound Sirius made lasted only half a second before his arms wrapped around Remus’s waist, dragging him closer. James didn’t move, even though he thought that maybe him and Peter should find a way to leave those two alone. He feared that any kind of sound or movement would break the spell.

“I’m sorry, Padfoot,” Remus murmured when they came up for air. “I… I want you too.”

“Halle-fucking-lujah,” Peter whispered as Sirius smiled and leaned in for another kiss.

James just shook his head as Peter stirred him towards the stairs to their dorm. He wasn’t mad about those two finding an alternative for all their bickering.

[pendarling]

Approaching Exam

CW: Language, mentions of exam, studying, Math and English

I'm held hostage by the education system so here is a story revolving that.

Hero's pen clicked over and over again as the slow wind trickled in through the window.

They hated exams, and sometimes, they hated studying more than the results themselves.

Hero sat in the quiet room, a closed-off sector of the library that could be rented out for a few hours in a day, and they were lucky enough to get into one after weeks of waiting. They could see why it was so popular after all; the walls in the room allowed for complete silence, and it put Hero at ease despite the slight eerie sense of being alone. Their eyes glanced up at the sky through the window. The clouds moved so slowly, yet time seemed to go by fast. It made their stomach churn at the idea of being unable to get past the first page of the exam when it did happen, and time would slip by them before they got the chance to complete any of the answers. Their eyes flickered back down onto their page at the mathematical equations listed out in front of them.

"Fuck me." they sighed and ran their fingers through their hair. If Hero could trade their life as a student to become a full-time hero, they would, but being a hero didn't pay as well these days and eventually, as they entered adulthood further, they would need to look for a proper job.

'How annoying,' they thought.

The door knocked softly, and Hero turned in their seat as the entrance creaked slightly; their time wasn't up already, was it? They stared at the clock. About half an hour remained still, in walked what looked to be a familiar face, but Hero couldn't put where they'd seen them before. Their brows furrowed when their eyes met.

"Excuse me." The stranger spoke, "Is this room E1B?" They sheepishly laughed at the setting. "I think I'm supposed to be in here today." 

Hero pulled out their phone and checked the schedule they were emailed, "Mmm nope, it says here that this is my room."

The stranger turned their phone toward them as well, "Well, it looks like we got double-booked."

Hero leaned back on their chair, it looked like they'd be having company after all. With a small gesture of the head, Hero directed their new friend to the chair opposite the table. "Sorry." They mumbled they weren't sure why they were apologizing; it was the system's fault for scheduling two persons in the same room within the same hours.

They studied the new character as they set down their items and pulled out the chair. Hero wasn't planning on staring too much, but when someone looked this familiar to them, it was hard to look away. 

They turned their focus back onto their page, still stuck on question 6 out of 30. The practice exam had to be more challenging, and there was no way Hero would make it through tomorrow if they couldn't get this done today.

Sarah is a civil engineer working on a project to design a curved ramp for a pedestrian bridge in a city park. 

Hero ran their pencil under the words.

The ramp needs to smoothly connect two different levels of the park while adhering to safety regulations and accessibility standards. Sarah decides to use a curved shape for the ramp, represented by the function y=√x​, where y represents the height of the ramp at a given distance x along its length.

Hero sighed and ran their fingers through their hair; they were so bored. Why was Sarah even a civil engineer? With all that money to get through the education and become one, she could've instead lived comfortably and married a nice rich husband, assuming her status was at least middle class.

This scenario was so unrealistic, plus it's like ten times harder for women to get into male-dominated fields because of sexism. Hero rolled their eyes and skipped the question. They flipped their page and glanced back at the stranger now reading a book, but what caught them by surprise was their hand, idly twisting a blue highlighter they felt they recognized.

From the back of their memory, Hero recalled a similar situation. 

They sat on the floor bound by a rope. The mission of the day wasn't going as well as they had hoped, and Hero was left at the mercy of Villain while the other sat a few feet away from them on what looked to be a large desk. From their perspective, they could hardly make out what the computer screen in front of Villain was saying, but they could certainly see the way Villain effortlessly twirled the pen between each finger. They always wondered how they did that. 

As soon as their memories left them, it had become apparent. The familiar face across them was Villain.

But what could they be doing here?

There was no way Villain was seriously studying how to annotate for what looked to be an English exam. For some reason, Hero never took Villain for being a student themselves. To be fair, they sort of assumed most villains weren't necessarily part of any civilian activity, and certainly, no villain should be a student of the city they tried destroying. 

Man... if Hero could get Villain to destroy the school facility, they wouldn't be studying at all. However, seeing how diligently Villain remained focused on their work made Hero no longer interested in convincing them.

'Oh God,' Hero turned their face away from their direction, 'What if Villain recognized me and didn't say anything?!' In their bag, Hero knew they kept their dagger just in case they should ever be kidnapped by any particularly vengeful villain; they just didn't think it would be this person of all; they never seemed too fond of doing more than their work let them. Hero swallowed; in that case, they should prepare for a sudden attack if it did occur; there was just no way this was all a coincidence.

Booking two students into the same room? Are you kidding me? The system never messes up. This was clearly a ploy set up to kill Hero.

Their nervousness was felt as soon as their leg began to jump noticeably, shaking the table, much to Villain's delight.

"Excuse me," They set their eyes on them. Hero froze, "Please don't shake the table. I can't write."

"Uh-- sorry."

Hero reached down and unzipped their bag, slowly creeping the knife to their side; they would attack first; Villain wouldn't even see it coming. After unsheathing the blade from its case, Hero measured the distance between the two of them. The table really wasn't that large enough to stop Hero from jumping over it; maybe if they grabbed their arm or the collar of their shirt before throwing Villain down, they would have the upper hand. If that didn't work, maybe a kick or knocking a few items from the table for a distraction. 

Hero remained focused on Villain as their enemy remained unaware. Maybe they were aware and had already thought of all the different counterattacks they could use against them. In that case-- the element of surprise was most valuable.

"What?" Villain frowned at them. Hero shook themselves out of their head; they must've been unknowingly staring for too long. Well, no point in getting embarrassed over it now.

Hero's grip tightened on the handle of the dagger as they chuckled nervously, "Oh, I was just wondering--" They jumped from the table and shoved the blade in Villain's direction. With a calculated move, Villain swiftly moved their head, catching their wrist with their other hand but knocking themselves out of the chair. 

Hero jumped away from them, their ankle stung from accidentally hitting themselves on the edge of the table just as they moved. Villain didn't waste any time and lunged at them, quickly covering the space between them.

A solid blow to their stomach sent Hero stumbling back, and the dagger fell from them with a soft clank; they sunk to their knees, holding themselves from instinctively vomiting.

Villain grabbed the weapon and rushed to the open window, quickly locking it in place and closing its blinds. The room was a lot darker than Hero expected. Had that window always had shutters?

Hero hesitantly stood back up. The sharp metallic edge was pointed in their direction. "Don't even think about trying that again."

Their shoulder tensed at the thought of their next plan; they could run out that door, but what were the odds that Villain had already sent back up to encircle the place, and how would they keep civilians from getting hurt?

Villain licked their lips and inched closer, "Who sent you?" they demanded. 

"Huh?" Was Villain genuinely asking them that? Wait-- did Villain not recognize them?

They laughed softly at the idea of having figured out their enemy's identity before them. 

Hero, the idiot who couldn't get past question 6 on the practice math exam, could easily identify Villain. All this time, they had been under the impression that Villain was intellectually superior to them in every way, and although that may be the case, they were not one for remembering faces. It made part of Hero feel tremendous.

"No one." 

Their bag still contained a few other items of use, such as a small smoke grenade that would definitely come in handy. Hero would have to go online and do the practice exam from their computer; there was no way in hell they'd be able to collect all their things and run. 

Villain wasn't feeling very entertained with the prospect of having to forcibly recall to the best of their ability what they'd done to be assassinated during their downtime. Without letting their eyes leave the other student, they walked toward Hero's bag and reached down; Hero felt a sweat come on; did they know they were hiding more tools in there?

"Hey, don't go and steal my lunch money, alright?"

"Shut up." They pulled the tag attached to the bag and examined the student ID card intently; it looked like an actual student identification card, though the name didn't ring a bell at all. 

"Villain, I'm actually offended that you don't know who I am."

"My bad, I wasn't aware there was an exam for memorizing faces as well." They tilted their neck from side to side, examining Hero's unmoving position. 

Nothing about them stood out, but this person knew their name and must be a hero, at the least, seeing how their only sense of heroism was throwing themselves in danger-- a common feature among most heroes, but that didn't narrow down which hero, in particular, they were looking at.

"Not even my voice?" Hero glanced at them with a slight pout.

Their enemy racked their brain, still clueless about their identity, and their hands roamed around the pieces of paper Hero was working on. "Whatever, are you even a real student or did you just come here to distract me?" 

Hero didn't reply with anything other than a shrug. They didn't initially come to attack Villain, but they also couldn't let Villain live freely within their presence. 

Villain raised the practice exam questions to their face, reading the sheet as if searching for answers to help them understand who they were up against. "You didn't even do most of these right. How did you get 1.6667? It's not even listed in the multiple choice."

They threw down the booklet onto the table; Hero blushed, "I'm not good at that stuff. But don't change the topic, alright? I could've killed you if I wanted to."

"But you didn't." They smirked.

The door pushed open again, and Villain hurriedly tucked the dagger away.

"Excuse me~" A young woman and a few of her other friends stood outside, "We reserved this room for 6 pm...?"

Villain looked at the clock and then back at the group. "We'll be leaving now. Sorry about that." They looked at Hero and egged them to get to cleaning their mess. Their feet moved, albeit nearly struggling to keep themselves upright from the pain of their ankle. They should've been a lot more careful when it came to spatial awareness. Now wasn't the time to mull on that, though. 

Once they had left the library, Villain headed in the direction of their exit. "You still following me?" They spoke, almost irritated.

"You have my dagger, and I would like it back. Please." With a short flick of the wrist, Villain dismissed their request and continued on their way down the flight of stairs. Hero had momentarily wondered what would happen if they had just gotten on with it already, pushed Villain down the stairs and took back their knife. It wasn't like anyone saw it happen anyway; no one stuck around this long after hours, not even the faculty. 

Villain abruptly stopped in their tracks, still a little ahead of them. "Hero?"

"Yes?"

With a slight smile tracing their face, Villain spun their head around to look up at them. For a second, Hero was lost at what they were so happy about until it hit them, and they responded to their name at Villain's call. 

"Fuck you."

Villain simply hummed, satisfied, and moved on.

~~~ MASTERLIST

TAG LIST: @books-are-everything, @kurai-hono-blog, @iykyunho, @marvellousdaisy, @m3rakii, @crow-with-a-typewriter, @sceirlose, @90scliche, @wondergoddess475

Click here to be added to tags.

[kairiscorner]

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

what would it be like to be miggy's sole friend? (aside from my bbg lyla)

imagine being one of my miguel's only friends in middle school. like he was a bullied kid in middle school (i think he was in middle school in the '92 comics, correct me if i'm wrong) and like, i think our miguel (movie miggy) wouldn't really give a shit if you were his only friend, he just wanted it to be you.

like if you asked him why he didn't try to make other friends if he knew you would be there to defend him if someone tried to mess with him, he'd just shrug and admit that he doesn't really want anyone else. and if you'd follow up that question with another why, he... he wouldn't know himself why. he just feels better and at peace knowing you're all he has to call as his 'friend'.

he wasn't shy nor anti-social either, he did talk to people and make connections, but he never really went to anyone else but you to talk about problems, unburden burdens you both never realized you were carrying, and just... be yourselves around each other.

like miggy has to put up fronts, he always did, he always does. even as an adult, if you chose to stay by his side, you would always see different sides of him, it was never just one or two versions, but a whole spectrum of miggy that you witnessed and grew up with.

and he appreciates how you understand him despite you not agreeing with him a lot, like that shit comforts him, how you have tried to see things his way. and despite them not working/being agreeable for you, he likes how you at least try, for him, to see how he sees it.

you also know how much he hates other people telling him what to do, that riles him up the most. he hates not having things in control because when things aren't in control, nobody, not even him, is in control of themselves. you don't encourage his no nonsense behavior, you want him to have fun, but most of all, you are the only person who successfully convinces him to take a damn break and relax for once.

he has joked to you before how many couples he knew lasted long because they knew each other since high school or college, since you knew each other way earlier than that... what would you do if he proposed to you right then and there? what if he said he wanted to marry you, spend the rest of his life with you, have you remind him taking breaks, waking up in his arms in the morning, and going home with his hand in yours, ensuring you'd be safe forever as long as he was there?

"i know i'm not... the most agreeable or friendly man on this planet, but... i want to be better. and to be better, i learn from you. and the more i learn from you... i realize how much i've loved you all this time, all this time i've wanted just you and only you, that... must've been when i started falling for you, ever single part of you, it all makes my heart beat a little faster, makes me want to be someone worth loving by someone so worth it. and that someone is... you. so, what do you say?"

a/n: WHAT DO I SAY, I SAY YES BBG AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

tags !! @miguelswifey04 (him to you fr <333)

[httpiastri]

Jackieeee my most favourite-est person ever <33333

i was having a look-see through your prompts for your 1.5k celly (ive forgotten if i’ve said congrats already but if i haven’t, CONGRATULATIONS MY LOVE YOU DESERVE IT SO SO MUCH) and i was wondering if you’d do a Santa Tell Me with Clement and a combination of “you don’t have to be so gentle. i won’t break, you know” and - moving hair away from their face.

i think it’d be really cute idk 🥰

MUAH<3

- shy little embrose from the discord lmao

embrose! my darling!! 🥺💘 thank you so much for your kind words, you're so sweet omg :(( and thank you for requesting! i altered the prompt a little, hope that's okay <3 have a good day sweetheart! and happy new year!!!

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"i have never seen a worse dancer than marcus," lissie says from next to you, nodding off towards the dance floor. when your eyes follow hers, you can barely hold back the laughter that wants to slip past your lips. it's quite clear that marcus and clement are racing drivers, and james is an insurance broker, not professional dancers.

it's easy to tell that none of them are exactly sober, though you're not sure if their moves would've been that much better if they hadn't been as intoxicated. at least they're enjoying themselves, you think to yourself, taking a small sip out of the glass in your hand.

"i wouldn't say either one of them is better than the other," alice pipes up, nudging lissie's shoulder with her own. "doesn't marcus want to join dancing with the stars, though?"

"yeah, but that doesn't mean he wouldn't get voted off instantly."

as if they heard about your discussions, the boys soon stumble back to your table. they're all cackling about something james just said, and clement has a big grin plastered on his face when he flops down in the seat next to you. you cock a questioning eyebrow to him, but he merely shakes his head, one of his hands reaching down to take one of yours. he gives you a gentle squeeze, eyes shifting back to james who's suddenly in the middle of telling some kind of story about a guy on the dance floor.

clement's touch is innocent, and he means no harm. as always, he has good intentions; he wants you to feel comfortable at all times. the thing is, you do feel comfortable – but his soft touches and gentle caresses are not enough.

it's especially easy to feel jealous when his friends and their girlfriends are around, showing off how comfortable they are in public. james and alice have been going out for ages, so pda is never a big deal for them. even marcus and lissie will disappear into a dark corner of a club every once in a while, only to reappear with swollen lips and occasionally a few poorly covered lovebites on their skin.

but clement? always so soft, always so delicate. too soft, too delicate.

behind closed doors, it's a different story. when it's just him and you, he's got no problems being rougher and showing you just how much he wants you. but when you're out in public, even a tiny kiss on your lips is highly uncommon. it all originates in his need to take care of you, to make sure he never does anything wrong – he would hate himself if he ever did something you disapproved of in public. so instead, he always holds back, even though he sometimes wishes he didn't.

the thought is sweet, and you're so grateful to be dating a man who cares so much about your feelings. but you do wish he would... do more.

you aren't sure how to tell him about this, though. it's something you've thought about a lot, but a good time for the conversation just never seems to appear.

when clement looks over at you from james, he notices how your expression has changed. from the bubbly exterior you usually show off to a slightly more gloomy look, and he frowns. he leans down towards you, his mouth brushing your ear as he whispers. "everything okay?"

when he leans back and sees you nodding, a soft smile spreads over his lips. his hand reaches for your face, taking it in his palm and letting his thumb run over the skin of your cheek. his other hand brushes away a few stray hairs that have fallen into your face, and...

there it is again. that light touch, the gentleness.

now or never, you think to yourself.

"hey," you say, catching him off guard. he raises his eyebrows. "you don't have to be so gentle just because we're with friends, you know."

clement's mouth drops open, and then he closes it again. and then opens and drops again. his eyebrows furrow and he looks deep in thought, blinking a few times before finally speaking. "what?"

you let out a groan. "just kiss me properly, you muppet."

he doesn't need to hear anything else. he captures your lips instantly, kissing you like his life depends on it. the hand that was on your cheek just seconds ago has reached down to the back of your neck, pushing you further into him as his thumb runs along the front of your throat. a sound escapes from your mouth and he feels the vibrations as he swallows it, hearing it loud and clear in his head despite the loud music. it's like you're in your own bubble now, completely unknowing of the dancing and music around you, and of how your friends have all stopped to watch you with raised eyebrows.

it's nothing unique per se – you've gone much further than this before – but in this context, it's new. out in the wild, in front of strangers, right before your friends. it's strange, but exciting.

when you eventually pull away, your arms have draped over his shoulders and you've moved so close that your legs are practically on top of his. your eyes flutter closed again when clement's hot breath fans over your face, both of you trying to catch your breaths.

suddenly, a loud cheer erupts from your side as james starts hollering and clapping his hands. marcus soon joins in, his wolf-whistles loud enough to probably be heard all the way across the club, and you lean forward to hide your reddening face in clement's shoulder. you forgot that this would be the consequence of your actions...

but then again, it was worth it. definitely.

clement wraps his arms around your waist, chest bouncing with laughter. "good on you, mate," james yells, and you can practically hear the smirk on his lips. "is this the first time you guys have kissed, or-"

"shut up."

[hacash]

there’s something about Crozier telling his lieutenants that he never wanted anything less than this command when Sir John dies

and from Crozier’s perspective, Sir John was a friend! he might not have been by the time he died but those tender feelings would not have completely gone away, of course Crozier can’t stand the idea of profiting by a friend’s death

not to mention in English society the 19th century there was a very big social no-no against people making themselves out to be ‘more than’ they were: you didn’t flaunt newfound wealth and you didn’t pretend your forebears were bankers when they were actually farmers. you were open and honest about your class and your position, because aiming ‘too high’ was seriously tacky (basically the Victorians would have hated the Kardashians is all I’m saying). and middle-class Crozier would have grown up with this attitude, he’s so very conscious about where he stands, so he wants to make it clear that this is not something he was hoping for, he doesn’t want this, this is just something he has to do -

but from Fitzjames’ perspective this is just another example of Crozier despising glory. of not valuing a position, an honour, that is so very valuable. (an honour that Fitzjames has spent his whole life secretly striving for.) once again Crozier is dismissing something precious. why doesn’t he value this? how can this man be their leader when he doesn’t even know what an honour it is to lead?

anyway this could all be extrapolation on my part but I love any scene where two people go in with reasonable intentions but wildly differing perspectives that cause them to misunderstand each other in the worst way possible, it’s like candy to me.

[not-wholly-unheroic]

I hope to write a full review of Peter Pan and Wendy at some point in the near future once I’ve had the chance to rewatch it a few times, but in the meantime, it makes me sad that so many people seem to have hated it, and I need to just gush about a few of my favorite parts.

(Warning: This list will contain SPOILERS for the film.)

Wendy’s very realistic reaction to having her favorite bedtime story character show up in her bedroom in the middle of the night (“How are you real?!).

The reworking of the “kiss” scene. Although the childhood romance/first love thing between the two of them in most versions is adorable, seeing Wendy sort of mentally panic and scramble to find SOMETHING to give Peter when, after getting hurt, Michael suggests someone give him a kiss to make it better and Peter says he doesn’t know what that is but he thinks he needs one is hilarious and totally something an awkward teen girl would do when confronted with kissing a boy in front of her brothers.

Mr. Smee’s good heart and kindness. Gaffigan’s Smee tries on more than one occasion to shield the kids from the worst of Hook’s wrath and/or scary situations as best he can while still being loyal to Hook. And it is openly acknowledged that there is a sort of father/son relationship between Hook and Smee due to Smee having pulled him from the sea when he was just a boy. Law’s Hook isn’t always good to Smee, but he very much recognizes he wouldn’t be alive without him. It’s also nice to see that although a bit of a dork sometimes, this Smee isn’t stupid, and actually seems pretty perceptive at times.

The sea shanties!!! I love that they found a way to work a few songs into the film without it feeling too out of place in a live-action movie that isn’t a full-on musical. The songs themselves are catchy and the lyrics (which are mostly about things in the deep that will eat you…) serve to remind us of the hellish nightmare Hook lives every day in fear of the crocodile. We also get a nod to the Disney sequel. (Props to the songwriter for managing to work the word “cephalopod” into a song and actually having it fit the rhyme.) Also, the second song arguably has a ticking motif in the slow drum beat.

The crocodile’s appearance and attitude. This thing is terrifying. It’s HUGE. There is absolutely no one in their right mind who wouldn’t run from this creature. While it wants Hook most of all, it isn’t opposed to eating others either (and does apparently nab a few men who get shoved out of the way by Hook or who aren’t fast enough). Also, all the spears sticking out of its hide. Makes me think of Moby Dick. The crew has apparently tried on many occasions to get rid of this crocodile but it refuses to die.

The similarities and differences in Peter’s fight with Hook at Skull Rock as opposed to the animated film. Hook ALMOST steps off a ledge at one point like in the animated version, but Smee is there to grab us coat and pull him back before he can fall. We also get some good shadow sequences like in the animated film…but apparently, Hook’s shadow can harm Peter’s with the effect that Peter himself actually feels it.

Hook’s reaction to the crocodile. His first words on seeing the creature are just a very quiet sort of shaky, “Oh, God….” When it lunges for him at one point, he freezes in terror for a second before his instinct to run kicks back in. This man is traumatized.

Hook and Peter’s relationship. Okay, yeah, I’m upset they went with the very cliche “Hook was a Lost Boy” deal which has been done so many times now in book retellings that it’s not even new or interesting anymore (not to mention Hook really needs to be an Etonian to make him who he is…) BUT I am very pleased at the emotional depth the actors and writers went to here for BOTH of the characters. Hook is still clearly capable of brutality but he’s also deeply wounded. Peter is selfish and cocky like any little boy might be, but he’s not evil and genuinely misses the friend he used to have in James. They weren’t black and white hero/villain tropes. They were complex characters who both dealt with things poorly, and it takes Wendy pushing on their emotional walls and asking hard questions to finally make them see they can stop hurting each other and maybe repair what has been broken.

The quotes they gave Law as Hook. So many good ones that I may make an entirely separate post about it but the entire brig scene with Wendy is gut-wrenching. At first, my reaction was, “Why is he telling her all of this?” But then, I remembered that even Barrie’s Hook has a tendency to monologue and I think part of the reason he tells her so much is simply because she might be the first person other than Smee to actually want to LISTEN to his side of things. (Much as how Tink points out later in the film that Wendy is one of the first people to really hear her.)

Peter actually needing and accepting help. While admittedly, I think they may have leaned into the “girl power” thing a little too heavily in this version, it was nice to see Peter actually realize that he DOES need people in his life and that it’s OKAY to ask for help sometimes.

Everything about the ending. Peter apologizing to Hook and flat-out refusing to fight him. Hook’s initial anger and disbelief. Peter reaching out and grabbing him by the claw to keep him from falling. The pained and terrified look on Hook’s face as he scrambles to come up with just one happy thought and can’t find any. The look of horror from Peter as he watches his former best friend fall to what he assumes will be his death. The fact that Peter MOURNS for him. The symbolism of “Hook” falling away and dying while “James” survives. The little hopeful smile he gives when he sees Peter coming back. UGH! It was SO GOOD!!! 😭 And that’s not even including the emotional scene with Peter and Wendy saying their goodbyes on the rooftop in London.

This film wasn’t without it’s flaws. The pacing was a little off in places, and it doesn’t feel quite like an epic adventure…but BOY, does it have some heart to it.

[lqtraintracks]

Is there a difference between what you find the hottest in smut and what you find the hottest in reality? Are there parallels?

You sure came in here with a banger, didn't you?

I let this marinate for a few days (a week?) something like that. The trick is probably going to be in giving a genuine answer that also doesn’t bare all of me and my secret fantasies to the internet. The answer would be a little more detailed in a circle of friends rather than shared on the tumbles. 

Be that as it may (under a cut because of sexual topics):

Is there are difference? Yes. Are there parallels? Yes, and even hell yes.

I write things I would never want to try myself. Watersports. Great on the page. SUPER hot. It can be hot to me when other people engage in it; under certain circumstances I could watch it. Have less than zero interest in doing it.

There are plenty of things I find hot both on the page and in my own mind that would be hard nos in reality. Deep-throating? Hot in fic. Sometimes in porn, though it has to be ~just right~. In reality, it’s a hell no for me. No shame to people for whom it is a hell yes! That’s why I love writing it! It’s hot. In theory. And when I’m in control of how it happens and to whom, and I can zoom in on their inner thoughts and desires while it happens. That’s what makes it hot for me more than even the thing itself. 

That said, yes, there are plenty of parallels. There are plenty of things that I write that I also love to do, have done, etc. I will leave that to your imagination! But I’ve realized pretty recently that I’m sort of gray ace and demi as well as queer. I would rather read about most things, write most things, than do them. Doesn’t mean I haven’t done and enjoyed a lot of them or won’t again. I’ve lived what I can safely say is likely more than half the life I’m going to get. I’ve done a lot. I’ve tried a lot that I loved, that I hated, that I’m neutral about, that was bad with one person but then great with another. I’ve been top, bottom, Dom, sub, tried lots of positions and role plays and places and kinks and sorts of people. I’ve had traumatic experiences and ecstatic ones. I’ve had boring sex and off-putting sex and one night stands and years-long relationships, good and bad. I have an extremely prolific sexual imagination, and I enjoy my own company. If you know what I mean.

But there’s a reason I write so much smut. I absolutely love it. When I’m writing sex, I’m both in complete control and absolutely uninhibited. I bare my soul with all my clothes still on. I write characters having near-religious experiences with each other and can simultaneously give them orgasms and soul-shattering love. It’s messy but only in the ways that I decree. If I want to do something realistic and have someone stop in the middle of anal sex because they feel like they’re about to shit themselves (and their partner) I can—but I don’t have to! It’s idealized, which makes it both less and more than real sex. I can experience hate sex without hating anyone! I can explore pain play more than I could probably stand in real life (giving or receiving). It’s a different kind of creative act, sometimes fueled by actual sexual fantasies but just as much by my writer’s drive to try something new with my art and to explore characters without limitations.

I hope this yes-and-no answer isn’t too unsatisfying. If so, just go read some smut instead! I’ve found that tends to do the trick. :D

Thanks for the balls-out ask! I had fun thinking about it! <3

[let-us-cultivate-our-garden]

Assorted Musings: A Jumbled Collection of Owl House Rewrites

So, I've been thinking of ways to improve The Owl House and the short answer is: make it actually stick to its premise. Show how the Boiling Isles is under the thumb of an oppressive dictator, make Luz an actual outsider in her home world, better explain how Belos came to power, etc.

The following is just a loose assortment of basic premises without rhyme or reason:

On Hexside and Amity-

Hexside and all schools (all buildings really) have a portrait of the Emperor that they say a vow to commit themselves to eradicating wild magic and upholding the Titan's laws. Luz is creeped out to the max by this as it reminds her of North Korea and other dictatorships (in addition to loving Azura, she's also a massive history nerd, to the point of correcting her teachers back home. She doesn't have many friends because she's rather intense about her hyper fixations and can be rather judgy). Hexside is also an exclusive school where a lot of students end up getting into the EC or in the upper echelons of the coven system. They have portraits of all the Hexside alumni who served as coven heads.

Amity is the top student of the school and a firm believer in the Emperor, since her mother is the ceo of Blight Industries and works closely with the Emperor himself. It is guaranteed she will be in the Emperor's Coven. She doesn't actively bully Willow, but does shun her and because of her influence, other kids avoid "half-witch" Willow as well.

On Luz in the Boiling Isles-

Eda is lazy and only took Luz in to help her in her illegal trade and sends her to Hexside so she will at least be out of her hair. She disguises Luz as a witch with undetectable magic (it can only be used in small amounts and only for minor spells). The detention kids don't multi-track as such an idea is sacrilege and it takes Luz to introduce the idea to them. Even then, they're nervous as hell about it. But Luz being Luz, she convinces them that it's not "wild magic" it's just trying out different methods to see if this is the right track. You don't want to upset the Titan by choosing the wrong magic, right?

While she is disguised as a witch in Hexside, she obviously can't use magic, which everyone makes fun of (like Akko in Little Witch Academia). She excells in Potions and Tarot Card Reading, basically anything that doesn't require a bile sac. Everyone calls her a half-witch (a term for a witch with weak or no magical abilities--sometimes witches are born with a malfunctioning bile sac). She makes friends with Willow and Gus, who is still a nerd for all things human related but keeps that secret because human trash is quickly picked up by the coven scouts. Luz steals some of Eda's human junk and explains what they are to Willow and Gus. He's thrilled but also terrified because his new friend is showing him contraband. Willow is suspicious and questions how Luz knows so much. Luz hems and haws for a bit before changing the subject. Hooty is pretty much the same. 10/10 character. King is not a child in this rewrite. His egg was in stasis for a long time and when he hatched he's functionally an adolescent but being in the egg for so long stunted his growth. He's very immature and still thinks he's the King of Demons. He pretends to hate Azura but rereads Luz's book when she's at school. Then Luz stumbles upon his fan fiction. Eda figured out right away that Luz stole her stuff ("but I gave it back, Eda!" "yeah, and I was going to sell it this afternoon but then it mysteriously wasn't in my inventory. You lost me a customer, Luz.") Eda then teaches Luz how to be a better thief and find more human stuff before the EC does.

On Belos-

Under Belos' reign, witches are judged by their strength and power; certain covens have more prestige than others: Abomination and Plant are near the top. Construction and Healing are more in the middle. Bard is at the bottom. Back in the days of the Titan, magic was communal and while, you could specialize in a specific type of magic, it was not regimented and more seen as a preference. All of it came from the Titan and all witches shared their knowledge and gifts equally.

In the days of the Titan, the Titan could speak to people but only through mediums. Although, there were some who argued that the Titan could commune with anyone if you listened and kept yourself spiritually open. Even then, some doubted how the Titan could talk at all if it was dead and perhaps the mediums were just powerful oracle/illusion witches. This led to some factions and divisions over what magic really is in the isles and how it is best used. Over time, fewer witches shared their gifts equally and petty squabbles warped into tribal conflicts. Belos manipulated these tensions by claiming the "elite" mediums spread lies about the Titan's wishes. He claimed that there used to be peace because there was one system and one way of doing things instead of all of this confusion and division. He passed himself off as a humble witch who received a vision from the Titan saying that magic should be unified. But this vision was so powerful that it left his face scarred, hence the mask (although he will show the doubting crowd his face). That only the wisest and most experienced witches could realistically practice all forms of magic while the rest would do the Titan's work in their chosen field. That way, the gifts of the Titan is still being shared among the populace but now with proper guidance. And thus the coven system was born.

Belos uses his curse as proof of being the Prophet of the Titan; when he regenerates an injury without healing magic, everyone is shocked but most importantly, they believe him. He spends his time proselytizing from town to town amassing a following. He calls them his "little birds" and they all wear bird masks as a precursor to the coven scout uniform. When they (rarely) experience violence, Belos whips them up into a frenzy as proof that the "wild witches" are against them. In one incident, Belos and his followers are prevented from preaching in a town. A fight breaks out and one of his followers is killed. Belos declares them a martyr and asks if his followers will sit by and not defend themselves? The crowd--already upset of course--then burns the town to the ground. As the years go by, people notice that Belos doesn't age and doesn't eat or drink, leading more people to believe in his divine message and join him.

[alvojake]

╰┈➤ ❝ 𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 ❞

𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆, 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒔!! 𝑰'𝒎 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒂 𝒔𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒂𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒏𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒈𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒐𝒓!! <𝟑

❥ 𝐭𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐬 | 𝐤.𝐬𝐧

with your life on the line he offered you a deal and sweet innocent you accepted without reading in between the lines...

��� 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 | 𝐬.𝐣𝐲

there was nothing you hated more than being the center of attention, but moving to a new college town in the middle of the semester was sure to draw attention. though you hoped that all of the attention would die away when they realized that you weren't anyone but a nobody, and it did. for the most part. however, you had caught the eyes of the infamous group of 'fuckboys' as you would call them, more specifically jake sim and among themselves they made a little bet, that jake could make you fall in love with him before the end of the year, and he did not plan on losing.

❥ 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐞𝐝 | 𝐨𝐭𝟕

ghostface!enha x reader (all different au's)

❥ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐫𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

it was Halloween season once again, and your brother begged you and your friends to go to this new hit escape room that just came into town; the only problem? you hated going to them almost as much as you hated waking up early in the morning. however, being the good friend and sister you were you went with them. you expected cheesy props, dumb riddles and questions, and a rigged room, so you couldn't get out even if you got the right answers. what you weren't expecting was being drugged and waking up in a room with a dead body and separated from all of your friends.

@alvojake | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇᴘʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

[thewriterowl]

It's the middle of the night and my tired brain decided on theorizing how Mandalorians and Jedi became enemies when they make good chemistry, so what if in the beginning they were actually friends, that the jedi kept their monk life and doing negotiations and trying to keep the peace while mandalorians were the warriors that protected the jedi so that they wouldn't have to use violence, then one day a jedi discovered a crystal, a very special one, and turn it into something powerful that would allow them to be able to defend themselves if needed, they thought this was good since now they could fight beside the Mandos instead of hiding. The mandalorian who like to protect the ones they love and didn't want the jedi in danger didn't agree with this. Because of this, the jedi felt trapped and fought back, which made the Mandos try to get them back and cause wars through this, maybe history got mixed up by one the mandalorians and thought the jedi were the enemy and caused a bigger rift making the supposedly their ancient enemies.

Then we have Din, who maybe learned the actual history through the darksaber and even though he would like to keep Luke save like the old Mandos, he knew this would not work by making the feel trapped, so he went by slowly convincing Luke that maybe he should stop fighting and focus on his school and let the Mandos take care of the security, and making sure that eventually things would change to make the Jedi be dependable of the Mandalorians so that they won't leave again. I know this is really long, but I just thought of this and maybe it would be an interesting theory.

So, I don't recall the whole history and fall-out of the Mandalorians v. Jedi...but I am like 95% positive it was cause the Mandalorians were doing really bad shit. Like they were the villains in the whole thing. I think there has always been some tension between the two but not everything had been so rough or hateful as it was during some pieces of time in history.

Weird since both parties are so powerful and attractive and work so well together as friends and something more. Suspicious.

Anywho, the idea of this is AMAZING. Just like everything from the beginning was slightly warped and confusing. It was easy to read things as hot to cold to hot to cold over and over and believe there to be more hate than anything when the reality of it all is far different. Just because of slightly overprotective and twisted thinking consuming the Mandalorians to ensure the Jedi were taken care of and safe. Like, clearly they did not need to be left on their own in this crazy galaxy that was overusing them. So yeah, that sparked some things as well for sure.

Then Din finding this out and is looking over at his Jedi before going all "ya know what...I agree." the Jedi need to be connected to Mandalorians and protected. So he is now going to put the work in to make this happen.