#i had been so fucking weak for most of my last year of living alone

[yugocar]

one of the best/most healing things about living alone was my weakness not being a disappointment/burden to anyone

[prettyboykatsuki]

call it quits or call it destiny | h. umemiya.

✮ tags ; afab + fem!reader(she/her pronouns, referred to as a girl, gets dressed up by tsubaki and kotoha), reader gets their hair braided (no desc of texture) and puts on makeup, lore heavy reader backstory + personality, deliquent!reader, gap moe, best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, themes of insecurity, mutual pining,the use of she/her for tsubaki, jealousy, confessions, loss of virginity, creampies / unprotected sex, oral (f!recieving), fingering, 18+

✮ wc ; 13.9k (dont. don't say anything)

✮ a/n ; me when i completely lose my mind because i have a weekend off. whats wrong with me.

anyways. there's no major triggers for this but be forewarned reader is meant to be very rag-tag deliquent type. she has a strong personality and generally is not feminine. she is like a mangy street cat a bit. also if u want u should listen to easily by bruno major while reading.

✮ synopsis ; you've been quietly pining for umemiya for a little over ten years with no plans of confessing.

you did not have a plan for what you would do if umemiya confessed to you first.

Once a day, everyday - Umemiya will come into your store, pause, smile, and confess his love to you before going off on his own.  

And once a day, everyday, you reject this confession with a soft huff  telling him to quit being stupid before shooing him away.  

It's become a ritual. A fixture in your daily routine that you're not allowed to ignore despite how hard you're trying.  

He's been doing it for three months, more or less. 

His reason for confessing everyday? Because he’s waiting on the day you confess back, of course. Which you've refused to do for the last few months and will continue to refuse for as long as you’ve got.  

It's not because you don't like him, alright? 

You've known Umemiya since middle school and you've liked him for about the same time. One of the core memories of your childhood is the day you met him, crying while sitting on a  swing-set, after what felt like the worst day of your life. 

( On the day you run away from home, you seriously consider not going back.  

You don’t really know how long you sit there. People walk by but most of them move on quickly. It’s mid-day before anyone bothers to stop and ask you something.  

 "I've never seen you around  before.” A strange looking boy approaches, friendly and unassuming but not entirely cheerful “Did you just move here?"  

You keep quiet, closing your eyes and hoping your lack of response is enough to push him away. Your hope fizzles out when you hear the swing creak as he sits besides you. 

"I'm Umemiya Hajime. I live close by." His voice is airy and causal. "I'm sorry you're having a bad day.”  

"Fuck off," You reply bluntly, frowning. “I don’t need sympathy. Leave me the hell alone.”  

He pauses before pushing himself slightly forward to barely swing.  

“I couldn’t leave you alone while you’re sad,” He voices willfully. "It might make you feel better to talk about it." 

In disbelief at his response, you finally look up and asses him properly. It doesn’t do much to change your initial unfavorable impression. White hair, blue eyes and a little taller than you. You’re definitely about the same age. All of that to say, there’s something weird about him that you can’t quite place.  

Despite his manner and way of speaking though, you don’t actually think he’s that weak which makes his whole aura even more unnerving to you. His attempt at being non-threatening doesn’t work for him. He’s being a real try-hard about trying to make you comfortable… 

Either way, he’s got an air about him that puts you on the defensive.  

 Talking to someone about it had never been much of any option, and somehow it pisses you off that he’s being so brazen about it.  

Maybe if you tell him about, he’ll stop prying into your business. Or maybe you’re just looking for excuses to let off steam. 

You don't care anymore. You wipe your nose with the back of your sleeve.  

"I don't live here and I didn’t move. I ran away." You reply.  

He keeps looking at you, curious, inquisitive and sympathetic.  

"Why?"   

"I broke a girls nose." You scowl. The words rise up in your throat like bile. Make you feel cornered. The wounds too fresh. "It—she bullied me for years for one. And I never fought back, it was all petty bullshit anyway and I didn't like getting calls home. I didn't care about that but she—it wasn't for nothing. She was causing trouble for Sensei."  

Umemiya keeps to himself, humming in response to your troubles. Your voice breaks on your next sentence, chest tightening.  

"It doesn't matter what she does to me but—" Your hands ball up at your first. Your throat feels thick, eyes suddenly watering as your chest throbs . "Anyway, I couldn’t let it go like normal."  

He hums. "So you hit her?" 

You shake your head, sniffling. "Not at first. Just told her to shut up. Said that she didn't know what she was talking about. She hit me first..." You screw your eyes shut, sighing. "...said she was gonna spread rumors about him just trying to get under my skin and be malicious,” You lean back slightly and look up towards the gray sky. “I punched her after that."  

You realize he's looking at your bloodied knuckles, but he isn't making an expression that you can read easily. You don’t remember the last time you spoke to someone like this who wasn’t Tsukimori-sensei.  

"Are you crying because you got in trouble?"  

“Who cares about that?” You sigh “Sensei had to put his job on the line and take responsibility for me,” Your brow furrows in frustration. “He’s the one person I don’t want to cause trouble for,” You grip the iron chains of the swing set with a closed fist and finally admit what you’ve been avoiding to say out loud. “I don’t want him to hate me…”  

The kid besides you smiles  absently at your words. Half-way between listening and recalling something else, it seems like. You can’t help but wonder what the hell his deal is. You barely know him but you’re spilling your guts. 

He speaks after a long while. "I don't think he sees it that way. I think you should try to talk to him about it."  

You make a face, rejecting the idea. "What? No way." 

Umemiya shrugs, smiling - though it doesn't quite meet his eyes.  

"He sounds like he cares about you. If he knew your reasons, there's no way he would hold it against you. And it’s important to share your burdens with people who care for you." You look over and see him smiling somberly at the mulch beneath his shoes before returning back to what you’ve grown to know as his usual self. "Anyways, I think we should be friends. Tell me your name."  

You sniffle again. What a weird guy. Well you say that but 

You still give him your name. 

"What a pretty name," 

When you tell him to shut up again, your new friend Umemiya just laughs.  

And you find you feel just a little bit lighter.)  

That night, Umemiya walked with you to take the last train and told you to come see him again  with good news. 

You aren't sure what compelled you to follow his advice. Maybe because he was the first person who sat down and listened to you about it other than Sensei himself. 

Tsukimori-sensei was your school counselor and the only adult in your entire life that seemed to worry about. You didn't have any friends in middle school and you were a scary looking delinquent girl without a mother and a mostly absent father.  

But Sensei was always incredible gentle to you and incredibly kind. And despite what rumors that girl tried to spread  - he was never anything more than an important mentor.  

It was fucking embarrassing crying in front of him but because you were honest - you got to keep in touch with him. He attended your middle school and high school graduation - supporting you as you started to sort your life out. Became the closest thing you ever really got to a parental figure.  

Over time, you got close with Umemiya and developed strong loyalty to him. You attended an all-girls middle and high school the next town over - totaling one other friend in all six years of your remaining education. Lack of socialization meant that Umemiya somewhat became the very center of your existence. 

It was easy to visit him thanks to parental neglect. You sort of melted into his life. Tsubaki once called you his guard dog as a half-joke, but there's some truth to the sentiment. Quick to defend, quick to heel, and always happy to see him.  

You, like many people, owe Umemiya a lot. His meddling over the course of ten years gave you reason to push forward. He even encouraged you to try and attend school and not give up on living a half-decent life. 

You've got a never-ending list of short-comings but being with him didn't make you hate yourself. It made you want to be better because you knew Umemiya would accept you for whoever you decided to be.  

So despite your delinquency, you managed to graduate high school. Post-graduation, you attended a vocational culinary school and became a patisserie before moving to Furin for permanent residency. You opened a bakery and supply bread to Kotoha-chans diner.  

You made something of your life mostly 'cause of Umemiya. He's not your only friend anymore but he's still your best. Even though you never really pictured things like dating or romance - in some way it only makes sense that it'd be that meddling, kind-hearted idiot that you end up falling for it.  

Lovesickness aside, you respect Umemiya more than anyone in your personal life.  

He’s stuck around with someone like you this long after all. That means a lot to you.  

Somehow the two of you mesh well despite being totally opposite.  

You decided as soon as you realized it sometime in high school that you'd keep your feelings a secret for the rest of your life. You had a strong resolve in your beliefs about the whole thing which made it easy. You hid 'em so well even Sakura's stupid accurate romance detector didn't uncover them.  

When you picture Umemiya's future - it was easy to picture the kind of woman he would end up with. Another kind-hearted idiot like him, a social butterfly. Someone a little softer.  

In any case it definitely was not you. You didn't need it to be. You've received so much from him already, you never entertained the idea. Plus, Umemiya has dated other people over the years, so in your head there was never any hope to cling onto.  

For all reasons listed above, a requited romance is at the very bottom of your expectations.  

That's why you've been in this fucking conundrum.  

To say it was a complete shock to you when Umemiya openly confessed to you many months ago would be understatement of the goddamn century.  

He confessed right on the last day of Spring, totally out of the blue. 

(It’s a little unusual for Umemiya to call you at this hour. If it were anyone else, you’d be a little upset since you’ve gotta be up around four-am to get prepared for the day.  

It’s him though so you’re particularly tolerant, yawning as you find Umemiya on a familiar swing-set, still wearing your PJ’s.  

"Why am I out here in the middle of the night with you?"  

Your words lack any real malice as you sit down. Umemiya remains totally quiet. It's unusual for him to not immediately go on a tangent upon seeing you.  

"Oi. Earth to Hajime." You frown at him. "Did ya get beat up before coming here and scramble your brain? Give me the popsicle before it melts."  

He looks over at you and chuckles as he hands you the bag from the convenience store. You ignore his odd behavior and open up said popsicle before it melts  - carefully splitting it down the middle and giving him the bigger side before going to town on your own. He takes it from you but doesn't even bring it up to his mouth.  

Weird.  

"Did something... happen? Like seriously happen?" You take a long lick of your iced treat. It's melon flavored, your favorite. "Seeing you frown doesn't feel right. Gives me the heebie-jeebies."  

He cracks a little smile at that. It makes you feel better. He shakes his head.  

"Mm, nothing happened. I just have something I want to tell you."  

You nod in understanding. "'kay. Take your time."  

He blinks, surprised.  

"Hm? Aren't you gonna scold me for wasting your time?"  

"Nah. Whatever it is must be serious if it's making you all introspective or whatever. 's fine. Bring me coffee tomorrow and I'll forgive ya."  

His lip twitches up. "I l really like that about you."  

You feel yourself flush and wave a hand at him. "Ahh, shut up."  

He pauses for a second then shakes his head. "Mm. It's more like I like everything about you, actually."  

You twist your face in confusion. "What are you on about now?"  

"That's what I came here to tell you." Umemiya says after a deep breath. He says it so casually you wonder if you're mishearing him - leaning back to look up at the stars. "I really, really like you. I just felt like I had to tell you that"  

You stare at him in disbelief.  

"Wha—huh?"  

He doesn't even flinch as he repeats it.  

"I like you."  

"No the hell you don't."  

He furrows his brow with a light laugh. "I just told you that I do, silly."  

"But that's—" You don't say the word impossible. You really want too, but you know exactly how he would react if you did. You simply shake your head. "No, you don't." 

"I thought you might respond like this so don't worry but how about you?" He shrugs then looks at you intently. "I thought you might like me too."  

Your eyes go wide. Oh fuck.  

You feel like a deer caught in headlights. You know you should be happy about this, deep down. That'd be the normal response.  

But you just feel complicated as shit instead. Fuck does he mean? Umemiya.... likes you? There's just no way that's true. Not after all of this time. And how the fuck does he know you like him back when you've been keeping it in? 

You can't bring yourself to look him in the face and lie. Your heart rises to your throat as you shakily stand to your feet.  

"Stop...thinking whatever you've been thinking. I'm going home." You reply in complete panic. 

 The minute you say it, you turn on your heel so you don't have to look at his face. You don’t even want to know.  

And before Umemiya can catch you and try to talk it out, you bolt. 

What the fuck was that?)  

For the last few months, you've been avoiding the topic of conversation as much as you humanly can.  

The possibility of Umemiya even just accepting your feelings was already far beyond your imagination, but him returning them? Confessing first? That wasn't even in your realm of possibility.  

Ever since then, you've been losing your mind trying to force your life and train of thought to go back to normal. You’ve done all of the math on it.  

Realistically, you can't ignore him. Your lives are so mixed together it'd be impossible unless you went under protection and changed your name which you briefly considered. You thought of turning him down but you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t be able to actually do it despite how good you are at keeping it in. Either way, your best option logistically is feigning ignorance and trying to keep the whole thing out of your mind entirely which should've been easy.  

Tricking yourself into believing the whole thing was a dream? Lightwork.  

Except. Except.  

Umemiya just won't give up.  

He confesses to you again every single day. Worse, he doesn't care whose around to hear him. No one in your friend group seems even the tiniest bit shocked by it which doesn't help the situation. You can't get used to it, can't get used to him being so fucking cheeky as he stops you midway through normal conversation to tell you he loves you.  

He's persistent to a fault and while you've done well feigning immunity - you can't survive like this.  

You've graduated to tell him to go away and treating the whole thing like some big joke.  

But honestly? 

You're avoiding having a proper conversation about it. Umemiya is especially keen in not letting you forget that. And determined to make you confess.  

But you're not going to to let him sway you.  

You've got principles, after all.  

__  

After you close up shop on Friday, you get dressed to attend a kickback with all of your friends.  

It's a barbecue technically - commemorating the end of summer. Togame is really into grilling and in their weird domestic partnership, Chouji really enjoys hosting. They've done this once or twice a year ever since they started living together.  

Once you've finished cleaning up the store, you take the train to Kotoha's place - mistakenly assuming you'd leave as soon as you got there. However you failed to realize that Tsubaki and Kotoha would be getting ready together.  

You got jumped as soon as you walked through the door - so now you're wearing a different pair of clothes that Tsuabki got for you and waiting for them to finish getting you dressed up so you can leave.  

Tsuabkino is inches from your face while Kotoha braids your hair. You feel itchy and exposed but with both of them here there's no way you're going to get out of wearing it. 

"Can we just go?" You grumble, not enjoying the feeling of being poked and prodded.  

"No," Tsubaki insists, frown making her expression pinch. "You have half an eyelash on. Sit still." 

"He'll be happy to see you dressed up," Kotoha adds, trying to encourage you. You frown and look down.  

"Whatever. I don't care about makin' him happy."  

The both of them pause and stare at you until you fold under the pressure - screwing your eyes shut and making you flush.  

“Such a blatant lie.”  

Tsubaki giggles. “Right?”  

Your face feels hot. "Ahhh, alright already. Shut up."  

"Honest girls are much cuter," Tsubaki coos. You give her a half-assed glare.  

"Don't you like Hajime? Why're you trying to set me up with him still?" You mumble. You always think they’d make a perfect pair.  

"Of course I like him. He's my prince." She smiles at you. “But it’s a little different to how a certain someone loves him. And well, if you knew the way he looked at you…"  

You frown, feeling hot all the way up to your ears as you ball your fists up and look down at your lap. "Whatever." 

"You should stop trying to worm your way out of it," Kotoha adds, much less sweetly. "You know how he is. He couldn't give up on you for ten years like some idiot."  

You blink. "Huh? But ten years would mean -"  

Kotoha braids your hair even tighter making you wince. "I know. You're both stupid like that."  

"Don't be mean, Kotoha-chan. And you, be a little more honest, okay?"  

You sigh deeply. 

"Ain't like anything is gonna happen either way. I already told you both I'm not accepting his confession," 

"Cause you're a huge wuss, yeah we know."  

You elbow Kotoha lightly.  

"Maybe nothing will," Tsubaki hums mischievously.  "But it feels nice to dress up for him, right?"  

You pretend the thought doesn't make your hear flutter.  

Tsubaki does you the kindness of laughing lightly before moving on. 

__  

You arrive to the function an hour later than planned and stick mostly with Kotoha and Tsubaki until half way through the evening.  

Loosening up with a few drinks, the three of you part ways to catch-up with different people. It's not rare you see them, but it's not often everyones schedules allow them to be in the same place.  

Lucky for you, Umemiya does you the courtesy of not confessing during the first half of the night before food comes out.  

(Though you do spit beer in his face after he calls you pretty, which he takes on the chin after cleaning up.)  

After dinner, the function simmers down significantly. People quietly break off into groups and chat to each other into the late night. About that time people split whatever desserts they brought among guests.  

You brought cookies and something specifically for Chouji and Togame as thanks for hosting.  

Towards the end of the night, you find yourself sticking sort of close to Umemiya. Though he's having his own one-on-one conversation with Hiragi while sitting next to you , turned the other way.  

You busy yourself catching up to Suo, Sakura and Nirei - all of whom you consider yourself close to.  

Of them, you're the closest to Nirei which always surprises people. 

The kids a total wimp but he helped you years ago study to graduate so you're a little closer to him than everyone else. He's a great guy though and you hang out alone sometimes too.  

The conversations gone far left at this point in the evening.  

Suo leans back against his chair and looks toward Sakura besides him with a lazy smile.  

"Sakura-chan would make a great wife." 

You snort listening to them bicker. Sakura grows beet red, throwing an empty beer can at Suo's head that he catches gracefully.  

"Go die."  

"What? You're good at domestic work and you have a cute side, Isn't that all you need?"  

"Shut up. I'll kill you."  

As Suo breaks out into laughs, Sugishita comes down from the kitchen just in time to catch the argument. He crinkles his nose up.  

"Oh, Sugishita-kun. 'Sup."  

He nods to your greeting as he leans against the wood railing of the outdoor deck.  

"What the hell are you two talking about?" 

'What? You mean about Sakura being a good wife?" Suo asks. Sugishita crinkles his nose. 

"Don't phrase it so repugnantly but yeah I guess." 

"We were talking about marriage 'cause I was complaining at work."  

"What's happening at work?" 

Nirei sighs as he lays it out again to Sugishita after having given the spiel to the three of you once.  

"One of my superiors at work is a lot older than me and keeps bringing up marriage," Nirei explains woefully. "It's all he talks about. He thinks I'm seeing someone."  

Sugishita frowns. "Eh? What gave him that impression?"  

A good question you hadn't considered asking.  

You raise your brow at Nirei who laughs awkwardly while he holds your gaze.  

"You know that picture of us from highschool? When he came to the cafe at your school festival?"  

You smile spitefully, crinkling your nose in faux distaste. "The one wear we wearing those stupid maid costumes?"  

"Yup. That's the one. It's a good picture of us so I keep it on my desk and he saw it so..."  

"You keep a picture of just the two of you on your desk? No wonder he got that impression.” Suo adds.  

You sense Umemiya suddenly tense which you find weird. He's still talking to Hiragi though when you glance from the corner of your eye. You brush it off.  

Nirei blushes, elbowing him.  

"Shut up. I've got group pictures and stuff too. But he just singled out that one cause you know,"  

You nod in understanding before it dawns on you. Your eyes widen. "Oh, shit? Does that old man think you're dating me?"  

Nirei closes his eyes and sighs. "He won't even let me correct him." 

You pause before breaking out into genuine laughter.  

"Pfft, that's terrible." You reply sympathetically, taking a sip of your beer before giving a mischievous grin. "Maybe you can make it work for you though, eh? Tell 'em we got hitched forreal and then I'll call you on the phone and nag you to get home for dinner so you can leave earlier."  

Nirei acts like he's touched making you laugh even harder. "You'd do that for me?"  

You give him another toothy grin. "I'll even help you fake some wedding photos. We'll be accomplices." You lean back with a shrug. "You gotta wear the dress though." 

Sugishita laughs at that. "You being a blushing bride is a little..."  

You snort, shooting him a dirty look "Shut up."  

"Deal. Not a bad plan honestly." Nirei says with a sigh. "Whatever gets me out of the office early."  

"Even if that means being married to me?" You joke.  

He smiles at you. "Aw, what do you mean? That's the best part."  

You chuckle at him good-natuedly and the conversation quickly moves on.  

The alcohol is starting to make you dizzy so you eventually tune out as the four of them talk, glancing at Umemiya from the corner of your eye.  

You swear you catch a glimpse of his jaw ticking.  

__  

For the rest of the night, Umemiya is off.  

No one else can tell. You know that because the atmosphere remains light until everyone leaves around two-am. There's no blips or tension, no awkward pauses. 

But you know Umemiya. He's been real weird all night and it's bugging the shit out of you.  

It's a well past two now, and you've just left the late night cab you took with him. Umemiya lives close so he's walking you home.  

He's usually energetic after a get-together like that so his dead silence is weirding you out. You're pretty good at figuring his feelings out but for once you feel totally clueless.  

It feels as if even the cicadas and crickets have gone to sleep. There's nothing bu the streetlights overhead and soft glow of the moon, coupled with the soft click of your shoes on the pavement. Occasionally, a car will pass by.  

At one point, it becomes too much. There's still a few minutes until you're home.  

You stop in the middle of the sidewalk and turn around to look at him. Umemiya pauses, startled as he stops with you, and doesn't smile which only makes your concern worsen.  

"Oi. What's up with you?"  

"Hm?"  

You cross your arms over your chest.  

"Don't 'hm' me. You've been in a bad mood few for the last few hours. It's gonna bug me all night if I don't ask, so what's up?"  

He stares at you.  

"You noticed?"  

"How could I not notice?"  

"I was hiding it pretty well, I thought." He states more than asks, half-smile on his face.  

"Yeah. But well," You shrug. "I'm always looking at you for better or for worse. So. What's wrong?"  

He stares at you a long time before sighing, running his fingers through his hair. You've never seen him like this. You've seen him pissed off before, seen him mildly irritated - but never this... pouty? It's not like he's pissed.  

He's quiet, taking a deep breath of cool night air before sliding his hands into his pockets and taking a good look at your face. 

"Do you know that I like you?"  

Your eyes widen as you blink wildly.  

This is what he wants to talk about? 

He pins you down with his stare, hands in his pockets and intense as ever.  

"Don't even think about bolting this time, okay? I'm asking you seriously. Do you?" 

Your eyes flicker down the concrete - feeling extremely uncomfortable and suddenly sweaty. You shrug, unsure of what else you could say or do.  

"Hard not to know." You mumble. "You tell me everyday." 

"But do you get it?"  

Your frown deepens.  

"Of course not. How could I possibly get something like that, stupid?"  

He takes a deep breath. "But you like me, don't you?"  

Panic sets in. If you could sink straight into the Earth you would.  

"...Never said that." 

He calls your name quietly. "Look at me, at least. Stop running away from me and just look." 

You know you're being stubborn but you can't help it. You've kept it a secret for ten years and all of a sudden he wants you to tell him you like him? You've held it in for so long already and he's telling you not to run away.What other choice is there?  

One wrong move move and everything will come crashing down inside of you. You can't even lie about it either.  

Damn it.  

"I won't look." Your voice is warbly and it makes you feel so pathetic you could die, tucking your chin petulantly "Don't wanna,"  

Umemiya frowns at you.  

"If you say you don't like me I'll let it go."  

You remain very quiet and close your eyes tighter. He sighs softly, making your chest hurt.  

After a minute, you muster up the courage to be dishonest - determined to drop it at all costs. You're slow as you pick your head up.  

"I don't like you," You repeat slowly, carefully - trying not to stumble the words. "So quit it, alright?"  

He laughs humorlessly and holds your gaze.  

"That's the first time you've ever actually lied to me. You're terrible at it," 

"I'm not lying." You snap. Umemiya smiles somberly when he sees tears on the corners of your eyes. He steps closer to you. You freeze. When his hand reaches cups your cheek, you feel your legs lose all their strength and close your eyes. You're terrified to even look at him, not wanting him to see what you know is obvious on your face.  

He wipes them as he tilts your face towards him slowly. 

"Tell me, at least. If you're going to refuse me, don't I deserve to know why? Do you hate the idea of dating me that much?"  

You shake your head. "Stupid. How would anyone hate that?"  

"So I deserve to know why you're turning me down."  

A long moment of silence draws you out of your feelings. You guess that's fair enough. Maybe this way he'll leave you alone  - as long you're clear about your reasons. He’s the earnest type after all.  

You manage to suck up all your tears and clear your throat enough to give him an explanation. 

You step back a little from him, putting some distance between you as you stare down at the sidewalk. 

"You know... I respect ya more than anyone else. You've always been someone I admire. And I uh, owe you a lot. So I only want the very best for you and all." You scratch your neck, taking a deep sigh. "For me... regardless of my feelings, I want you to be with someone who really fits, you know? Well put-together and everything. Someone that suits you better"  

He pauses before frowning.   

"Regardless of your feelings? Does that mean you were willingly pushing them aside?" He says distraught. "For how long?"  

You shrug, trying to lighten the conversation. It’s too devastating otherwise. "About ten years, give or take." 

The sheer distress in his face makes you want to keep talking, just he doesn’t look so disheartened. Like some explanation will clear things up.  

"It ain't a bad thing, Hajime. You've given me a lot and I'm serious when I say I want the best for you. I love you, if that's what you wanna hear. I'm content just being besides you as your friend." You say with a shrug. "I can be kinda selfish but there's a limit to my greed,yknow."  

He looks like he's in shock. 

"Wanting someone to love you back isn't greedy or selfish."  

You find you don't have anything to say with that, but hope he drops it for the time being. 

Umemiya stares at you seriously. It makes your breath hitch meeting his eyes, blue with all the depth in the world. You feel like you can't pull yourself from his gaze.  

"And there was never a possibility? Not once that I could've liked you? That I wanted to be with you?"  

"It doesn't matter." You say. "And no, it never crossed my mind.."  

"Stop saying it doesn't matter. Of course it matters. Your feelings matter the most so don't toss them aside so easily. Do you really believe that you're not right for me?"  

You aren’t sure how to answer him.  

"You think you're not good enough for me." He says with some realization more than asks.  

It's the first time you see his face change. When you look up, he looks well and truly angry. The whole thing is confusing.  

"I'm sorry," You say. It’s such a timid thing to say but you don’t know how else to fix.  

"It's not—I just don't like hearing you talk about yourself like that. I don't like hearing someone I love get spoken about like that.” 

You ignore the sentiment again and wait in the quiet. You always thought this would be an easier conversation to have but it hurts.  

He sighs a bit, getting closer to you again. He’s less upset than before but there’s something else in his expression.  

"You wanted to know why I was upset earlier right? It's because of you and Nirei-kun." He admits.  

"What about him?"  

"You talked about marrying him so casually. I overheard and it bothered me all night."  

Your eyes go wide.  

"I—it wasn't serious."  

"I know that. I never thought I was that childish either but you being married to someone else as a joke." He laughs humorlessly. "I really hated it. That’s why I asked if you know how much I like you."  

You feel frozen in place by his admission. 

Umemiya steps towards you faster than you can muster up a counter for why he shouldn’t bother.  

His arms around you feel sudden. His grip on you is so tight, like you could slip through his arms all at once if he loosens it. He smells like cologne and beer and summer but it's not unpleasant. He rests his chin on your head and lets out a deep breath.  

Your chest is throbbing for different reasons now. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.  

"If you won't be greedy, then you should at least let me be." He lets out a long, tense breath "At least let me have what I want." 

You're stuck. Your mouth moves faster than your brain.  

"Why me? And why now?"  

Umemiya pulls away to stare down at you. You can't bring yourself to turn away from him. 

"It was always you. I felt guilty... for wanting to you that way when you were a precious friend. Wanting to treat you delicately when you were strong and proud." He admits. Hearing him say that out loud embarrasses you to no end, “But it was those things that made me love you. Strong yet clumsy. Prideful yet honest. Awkward yet trying to be gentle. Loyal. And always considerate of everyone. Of me, when I was taking care of everyone else."  

Your stomach feels like it's going to erupt. You're losing your resolve faster than you know how to mend it.  

"Stop saying stuff like that."  

Umemiya holds you tighter and shakes his head. "No. How else will I get you to change your mind?"  

"I won't change my mind." You say stubbornly.  

"I love you." He repeats.  

You squirm.  

"Stop it,"  

"I want to be with you. I want to kiss you. I want to hold you. I want to stay by your side forever. I want to do things with you and make you feel good. I want to make you smile. I want to grow old with you." 

Your hearts fluttering. Fuck.  

"Idiot. What are you saying? Let me go."  

"It has to be you for me. I won't have anyone else no matter what you think. The person I love is you. I love you."  

"Hajime." Your voice is shaking. 

His drops down to a whisper.  

“I can’t change how you think of yourself overnight but I can tell you that there’s no point in trying to push me away. Whether or not you accept  me, we’ll never stop being side by side - so please stop fighting it.”  

You put your hands on his chest, trying to push him away. “Stop it,” 

"Please tell me it's okay to love you how I want too," He says, soft and doting while he crushes you in his arms. "And please love me in return."  

You put your hands up to your misty eyes wanting to wipe them away as he melts through the rest of your resolve like it's nothing. It's hard not to be moved. You've been pretending for ten long years that you don't love him at all and he's declaring his love for you like it's the easiest, most sensible and sane thing in the world.  

A kind-hearted, willful, meddling idiot. How you are you supposed to push him away when he's holding you this tight?  

"Shit," You voice, huffing as your voice shakes. "Don’t be stupid, alright? If you’re so insistent, I wont let you back out if you meet someone else."  

He laughs wetly.  

"I already tried meeting other people, but it's still you. Always was."  

He smiles above you. 6'2 with watery eyes with the look of pure relief like it's the best news he's ever heard in his life. It's too much for you. Your heart is racing so fast you wonder if you're gonna die.  

"Can I kiss you?" He asks.  

Your eyes go wide as you look away, not wanting to look too eager. "That's..."  

He makes another puppy-dog kinda face. "Please?"  

You're embarrassed by how easy it makes you give in. "...Do whatever you want."  

He laughs bright and warm as his hands slide up to cup your cheeks and kiss you with all the passion he can muster. It's intense, almost suffocating the way he slots his lips against yours and breathes you in. He doesn't let you up from it, doesn't part from you for a second even when he pulls away - noses brushing and stealing the air from your lungs.  

It's your stupid first kiss and it's perfect - so perfect you wonder if you're going to wake up in a dream. He kisses you hard and makes you stand on your toes to chase his lips when he pulls back. Elated. Ecstatic when you grasp the front of his shirt and keep kissing him when he stops. 

He pauses before littering your whole face with pecks even as you weakly protest, unable to stop frowning but feeling the happiest you've ever been.  

There's so much longing in between you, you feel like you could die. You feel helpless.   

"Can I come home with you?" He asks, once he stops - only holding your hand a short distance away. "I want more time together." 

You feel your skin burn hot as you nod, all while trying not to read too much into it. 

"Yeah."  

__ 

You barely get to lock your door behind you before Umemiya crowds you in the door way.  

His arms circle around your waist, chin resting against your shoulder.. Broad chest against your back, you try not to flounder as his warm voice caresses your ear.  

You're going to die young if he keeps this up.   

"I love you,"  

You flush. "Enough already. And let me go so I can wash up."  

"Do you need to sleep early? Thought you were closed tomorrow. Wanted to talk a little longer."  

You pause.  

"...Sleep?" 

"Hm?"  

You both freeze as the miscommunication dawns at the same time. You try to pull away from him as soon as you realize, skin burning hot. You're quick but Umemiya is quicker.  

"Hajime." You say gravely. "If you don't let me go, I'm gonna kill you."  

"No way," He laughs  as you attempt to wriggle out of his grasp. "Is that why you let me in? Were you expecting something?"  

"Shut up! Don't say anything, I swear I'll —"  

"Don't be like that, baby. I'm not making fun of you. Hey, turn around. Look at me."  

You're upset but you think the reason is more embarrassing then the feeling.  

"Don't wanna,"  

Umemiya laughs as he gently turns you around to face him. In your utter mortification, you can barely bring yourself to meet his gaze.  

"Stop staring."  

He doesn't.  

"Do you normally invite guys in just 'cause they ask?"  

"Wha—no! It's because it's you, stupid!"  

He smiles in satisfaction.  

"You shouldn't say yes so easily even if it is me. What if I took advantage of you?"  

You think he's just being smug for the sake of it, which is pissing you off. You grab him by the front of his shirt.  

"Fuck off. Maybe there's a reason I said yes."  

He pauses before his eyes widen. You push your hand against his mouth before he blurt anything else out but he's quick to pry your hand away.  

"Don't say it." You hiss.  

"I was planning on taking my time. I cherish you and I want to make sure you know that. I'm just a little surprised you’re moving so quick when you were telling me not too long ago."  

You can feel the tips of your ears growing hot, feeling even more self-conscious. "Whatever. If we're just going to sleep I still need to wash up."  

He keeps his arms behind your back so you can’t move.  

"Hey. Didn't say that. It's not like I don't want to do it with you. Just don't want you to regret anything."  

You give him an flat look. "I was prepared to give you my virginity and you're worrying about that. Unless you're planning on backing out, there's no way I would."  

"Your—" His jaw drops a little.  

You drop your voice down just a little close as you grab his collar.  

"If you get it, then hurry up and fuck me. Stupid Hajime."  

He gives you the dopiest smile you've ever seen while your face grows increasingly hot, leaning to in to press a kiss to your lips. He brushes his nose with yours. Laughter from deep in his chest.  

"Yes, ma'am."  

__ 

Once you give Umemiya permission to have you, you get the feeling that there really is no going back from here.  

You both know it. The tension in your bedroom is so thick you can barely breathe around it.  

Umemiya lands gently onto your bed - sitting up as he holds you by your waist and pulls you over to him. You're so aware of his touch it makes your nerves feel they're on fire. You're not a total virgin - at least not enough to be feeling this worked up over someones hands lingering on your waist.  

But they're Umemiya's hands—Hajime's hands, so you can't rationalize your thoughts of out it. His hands are strong and big, a little calloused and rough from the gardening and fighting. You can feel how much he adores you in a gesture so small it makes you concerned for your own heart thinking about how the rest of the night will go.  

He invites you into his lap gently, so pleased by the way you go to him so willingly. You spread yourself over him with your knees on either side of his thighs. He's big - wide and broad.  

Your barely hovering over his bulge as you lean your weight onto him. His hand barely brushes underneath your top, just barely touching the skin.  

You shiver.  

"Are you really sure this is what you want?" He asks. "I don't mind waiting as long as you need,"  

You give him an bored look. "Not very convincing when you're makin' a face like that,"  

He chuckles nervously. "That bad?"  

You nod before adding a little bashfully. "Dunno if I mind, though."  

He buries his fact against your chest all of a sudden making you jump.  

"The hell?"  

"You're so cute when you're honest like that," He mumbles into your chest, cheek pressed against your tits.  

"Jeez, shut up. What're you talking about?"  

Umemiya pulls back and leans forward - enough to breach the inches of space between you. Nose to nose, your eyes meet. A bated breath, you put your hand on his shoulders and work up the nerve to kiss him.  

It's chaste. Mostly for you to break the ice otherwise you're sure you're gonna pussy out.  

He smiles at you when you pull away.  

"See what I mean? So cute," He hums, and leans in again. "Come on. Kiss me again."  

Something about him is different when he tells you to kiss him. It's not smug or cheeky. But it's not casual either. Softness tinges his words, his touch - his whole demeanor screams like he loves you absolutely. It makes your heart rate pick up again, hands shaky as you try not to lose your nerve.  

He's restraining himself though. How he intense he could be vs how soft and calm he is being. You know Umemiya like the back of your hand so you want him to do what he wants. It's hard to find your voice.  

"You don't have to.." You cast your eyes down in embarrassment. "…hold back with me, either. I'm not some maiden."  

He smiles at you a little. "You really do know me better than anyone, huh? I was keeping it together pretty well."  

"Look I know I’m kinda difficult…I'm not real good with stuff like this either," You fidget with the collar of his shirt with your free hand. "But once I say yes I don’t back out. So don't worry about scaring me off or putting too much pressure on me or whatever. ...'s fine to just do what you feel like. I’m scared out of my mind but I wouldn’t do that to you,"  

“Don’t know how long it’ll take but I’ll do my best to make you feel secure. Might take some time but we’ve got our whole lives.” You flush at the implication. He smiles a little. "Whatever I want seems like a lot to give, though."  

"Well...depending on what, I'm might not be good at it,"   

He shakes his head. "I don't want anything like that."  

"What do you want then?"  

"You." He says easily. Your stomach flips. "All of you. I just want to make you feel so good you can't stand it. Want to worship you top to bottom. There's not a single part of you I don't want."  

You flush. "The hell... I meant like a blowjob or some shit."  

He laughs. "I know. And I want that too, another time." He hums, taking a deep breath. "Right now I just want you to feel so good for me. Is that okay?"  

You can't look at him. You can barely stand how bashful you're being, but you can't even play coy. Something in you is bursting at the seams.  

You love him so much you don't recognize yourself, or your voice, or how you're acting. It makes you sick but you can’t do anything but go with it. "Yeah. 's okay, if it's what you want."  

"It is," He says, leaning in. "All I've ever wanted."  

You ignore the latter half of his comment as he finally goes to kiss you again.  

He pulls your body close to him as you do. Until your chest to chest, arms wrapped around the span of his shoulders as you press your lips together soft and slow.  

He slides a hand underneath your top, undoing the clasp of your bra. He lets his palm stay on the center of your back while you keep kissing - straps of your bra falling down your shoulder as he splays his fingers to feel more of your skin and hold you. Hugging you close to him, his other arm wraps around your torso. His forearms feels especially strong they way they hold you by the waist.  

You're so close to him. Kissing him so deep, his tongue sliding against your lips. Something about the kiss is languid but the touch is so hot it makes your skin burn. You feel wrapped up in him, can't even tell whose heartbeat you're hearing. 

More of your weight ends up in his lap as you feel your knees go weak. Something hard presses against your clothed cunt and you gasp a little into his mouth.  

"Oh, shit." You mumble in surprise. Umemiya laughs.  

"You're making me feel good." He hums.  

Your face heats up. "I barely did anything." 

"You just being on my lap is more than enough."  

You make a face at him before rubbing yourself over the zipper of his jeans, slow and deliberate trying to get a feel for it. You hear him moan, nearly jumping out of your skin in surprise.  

The way Umemiya moans is a lot for you to process. Breathy and a little low. It resonates through your whole body like a caress.  

You make a few more tentative passes over his bulge, just to hear him do it again. Driven by your instinct more than anything, you lean into kiss at his jaw - making use of the limited experience you do have to try and draw more sounds from him.  

"What're you thinking about?" He asks, still breathless. Maybe amused.  

"Like the way you sound." You mumble in reply.  

"I thought I told you I wanted to take care of you, hm?"  

You frown. "So what? I can't touch you at all?"  

He thinks on it. "You can touch me everywhere else and you can have your way with me later, if you want it. I don't wanna cum too fast."  

"I'm just..."  

He shakes his head. "You're underestimating me. I'm still a guy, you know? With a woman I love at that. There's no way I would make it through our first time if I didn't focus on you. Don't pout,"  

Hearing him describe you in such an embarrassing way makes you flush. You roll your eyes half-heartedly. "Fine, whatever."  

He smiles.  

"Good girl. C'mere. Lay down."  

You decide not to think about how effected the praise makes you as you comply.  

Umemiya lays you down carefully, making sure you're comfortable before hovering over you. He looks a lot more imposing from this view - the dim lights of your room making his face seem more well-defined. Your nipples harden in arousal, peeking from underneath your shirt as he stares long and hard.  

"You're so beautiful to me."  

He leans down and presses a hot kiss to your jaw, just underneath your ear before slowly kissing down your neck. Open-mouthed kisses along delicate skin, tongue sliding over every patch he scrapes lightly with his teeth. You fidget underneath him, a dull throbbing between your legs. You try to figure out what to do with your hands but you’re too nervous.  

He kisses your throat where it's extra sensitive and you bite back and involuntary noise. 

"Don't hold your voice, please?"  

"It's embarrassing,"  

"It's not," He assures, bumping his forehead to your shoulder lightly. "I want to know what makes you feel good. Let me pay attention to you."  

You frown but nod ultimately.  

Umemiya isn't the first sexual encounter you've had in your life. You've done other things, but you've never really gone all the way with anyone. All of your other partners were mostly strangers - people mutually interested in using someone else to try and get off.  

This is the first time anyone has taken this much time with you. A little kissing and groping, sometimes touching your chest.  

No one's ever touched you like this, though.  

His hands feel like they're all over your body no matter where they actually end up being. Makes your heartbeat rain drumming on a tin roof. Makes your stomach tingle, a heat in your calves and a prickly feeling on your back. Your whole being drowning with pure anticipation.  

"Take this off for me." Umemiya mumbles. You nod, feeling absent as you wiggle yourself out of your tight little tee and toss it somewhere.  

The air shifts again when you're naked. His eyes drink you in, tracing the soft lines and edges of your body. Looking over scars and stretchmarks with pure, blown out wanting that shoots lust straight into your veins.  

You want him to fuck you so bad it's killing you but the very thought makes you feel so shy you could die.  

"You're beautiful," Sounds dirty the way he says, makes it spill from his lips like wine tipping over a glasses edge. "Perfect. Every inch of you is so perfect."  

He proves this to you by kissing you again. Running his hands over your skin. Up against curved sides and down against your arms, brushing the back of your biceps and forearms.  

Infatuation in his touch ruins you. Makes your voice let out. You can't think of anyone whose treated you so preciously in your entire life and you find you don't resent it as much as you should.  

(You find it feels so good to let someone touch you so kindly. A touch like you're being loved.)  

Nonetheless it's embarrassing. Of course it is.  

But it's so hard not to feel pulled in when you feel the way he kisses you. Draws a trail with his lips and tongue from jaw to shoulder blade - kissing down your biceps with his hands on your body, taking  gentle inhales of your scent.  

Anticipation makes your stomach tie in knots but finally he relents. Both hands squeeze the soft weight of your chest, palms brushing your hardened nipples.  

"Fuck."  

He laughs a little, heavy with want. "Yeah? Do you like being touched here?"  

"Mm." Is the best reply you can get out.  

He brushes against the tips with his fingers in a feather-light gesture, testing the waters before rubbing with a little more pressure. Your body jolts from the stimulation, wetness pooling and dampening your underwear. He leans in and takes one of your nipples into his mouth making another dull wave of lust wash through you.  

And he makes sure to pay attention to both. It's just like him to be so attentive to some shit like that. Your spine arches as he sucks on your sensitive nipples, letting his tongue flick across them and giving into a sweet friction. You buck your hips up against instinctively, gripping onto the sheets as your sense of restlessness grows.  

Your voice is whiny to your own ears but you can't calm down to save your life.  

"You're taking too long," You huff. He laughs lightly, looking up at you from underneath his lashes.  

"Don't be impatient." He tsks.  

"It's enough already," 

He shakes his head. "Nope. Still got a long ways to go. Promise you'll have me when you're ready for it, so just try and focus on feeling good."  

You make a frustrated sound. "It's embarrassing being the only one feeling good,"  

He pauses before standing up on his knees. He takes his black t-shirt off in one swift go until his torso is bare, and undoes the top button of his pants. He gives you a little glance. "Better?"  

There are too many layers of that to process in the moment it happens. You mumble. "A little,"  

He beams. "Good. Now let me take good care of you,"  

Sliding down lower, he kisses you from sternum to navel. Hands gripping at the softness of your sides, smoothing over the bare skin as he his thumb finds the waistband of your skirt. He glances up at you, silently seeking your permission. You nod back at him, watching him slide the short skirt away from your waist.  

The sudden air feels cool against your skin. He presses his cheek against your belly, both hands on your hips..  

"You're gorgeous. Even more gorgeous than I thought. I feel so lucky being able to touch you when you're this perfect.” He praises endlessly.  

You cover your face with your arm.  

"Ugh. Quit it. You're sayin' too much."  

"Seeing you get so shy when I praise you a little is so cute." He trails his lips down further and further - just above your sex before stopping. "You're so cute."  

He sits back, standing up and bending your legs slightly at the knee. You hold the position as you feel him massage your calve. Thumb drawing hard circles in the muscle, slowly working his way up to your knee. He kisses you afterwards trailing the same spot his hands were touching seconds ago before moving onto the other side.  

There's nothing you can call it short of worship. The nagging feeling that it's undeserved is washed away each time Umemiya holds your gaze.  

Devotion colors every touch no matter how small. And it’s so obvious, so prominent - it feels outright wrong to deny the fact it’s there.   

You think the closest thing you can compare it too is the way Umemiya gardens. A patience as his fingers root through earth and soil, a kindness towards delicate things that makes even hours of work under the sun look beautiful and easy. His expression is what's most uncanny - what makes you you feel so hot. 

An expression that says he loves doing it from the very bottom of his heart - not even a hint of apathy or complaint.  

A face that says he loves every long, drawn out motion and actions of repetition all fro the very core of him.  

Having it directed at making love to you so blatantly makes you more aroused than you know what to do with. You don't know how to let yourself be treated like the most cherished flower in Umemiya's garden - and you aren't so sure how you're meant to get used to it no matter how much it makes you feel...nice. You don’t have any other experience.  

Which is why you're trying to be patient. Trying to be at least temporarily secure in whatever he sees in you that makes him worship every inch of you, memorizing all your ins and outs.  

Umemiya places hot, wet kisses on your inner thigh before laying himself between your spread legs - breath barely hovering over your sex.  

By the time he gets there, you feel utterly melted into your sheets. Your mind is hazy, impatient and wanting as strong hands secure your thighs. He's so close.  

"I wanna eat you out. Is that okay?"  

"If you don't do something soon I'm gonna kill you."  

He laughs warmly. "I'll take that as a yes."  

You pause. Umemiya waits.  

"I didn't uh," You clear your throat. "Wasn't planning on getting laid so y'know. Haven't shaved in a while."  

"Were you worried that I'd change my mind? I like it for the record. Feels natural." Umemiya says. "It's your body so there's nothing I would dislike about it."  

"You're too much." You reply back in earnest. You cover your face with your arms. "So cheesy."  

"I'm being serious." He says suddenly solemn with how sincere he is. 

The sudden change is amusing. You pause before breaking into genuine giggles, unable to help yourself.  

"You're really somethin', yknow that?"  

He's quiet for a long time. Long enough for it to catch your attention, turning your gaze more clearly towards his face. Swiftly, he pushes himself up to catch your mouth in another kiss. It stuns you a bit, very different to all the rest. More teeth and tongue than lip.  

"I like you," He murmurs, forehead to yours. "How can someone be so cute?"  

"Would you quit embarrassing me and get on with it?" 

He smiles. "As you wish,"  

Umemiya settles back down between your legs after easing your panties off and putting your feet flat on the bed to give himself more access. You can barely look down at him doing it. His fingers brush the slick hairs back gentle as he uses his thumbs to spread your pussy apart and look at you more intimately.  

You can feel him. Feel his every breath and movement. He stares at you awestruck. "How is all of you so pretty? Even here it's such a beautiful color."  

"Stop looking so much,"  

He takes a breath, taking in your scent one more time before pressing a kiss to your clit. You make an attempt to squirm away from his grip as his finger dig into your thighs and hold you down. The strength of it knocks the wind out of you, forcing you into place. Umemiya pushes his tongue and gives you a long, tentative lick through the seam of your cunt.  

Your whole body breaks out into shivers at the sensation. The warm weight of his tongue on your sex makes feels like an electric current through water - your toes curling as he makes the same few passes over and over. He collects your pooling arousal on the tip as he drags upwards and flicks your clit tentatively. You grind against his face instinctually, hips chasing the pleasure. Amused laughter vibrates against your core as you do, mumbling at you to be patient while he's still face deep in it.  

You let out another pitchy whine before he finally stops teasing. He lays his tongue flat against your clit, cupping it lightly before drawing it around experimentally. He watches carefully as he plays around with pressure and angles - trying to see what makes you react the most. You can feel how closely he's watching you. 

You cover your mouth with your hand when he does find it, your voice breaking off as he licks carefully right where you need. He smiles into your cunt as he toys with your with the sensitive bundle of nerves, pleased by the change in your reactions. The obvious pleasure he's making you feel.  

Something blooms into your chest. You've never— 

"You're—" You close your eyes, hands tangling in the sheets as you break out into a fever. "Ngh, never had someone l-lick me,"  

He must've heard you because he seems to laser in his focus the minute you say it. He's lapping at your clit so deep, licking precisely and holding you with nose against your bush.  

You reach down tentatively, pushing back the hair falling in his face and he gives you a look so lovesick you want to run away. The pressure changes gradually, more intensely.  

It feels better somehow. Makes you feel restless. Your whole body curls in tight with want at the sensation of it, the lower expanse of your belly tensed. You're shaking as you drift closer to the edge, arousal upped by the wet sound of him sucking your clit.  

"Hajime," You warn, spine starting to arch as you helplessly try to pull away from the intense sensation. It's not familiar to your body, so much so your mind can barely make sense of what's happening to it, "Cumming—c-cumming!"  

Something in you goes undone as Umemiya keeps pace during your orgasm. All the tension inside of you suddenly comes loose - specks of white matter behind closed lids as you screw your eyes shut. Your back curves up into arch, your hips trembling, your insides pulsing. It comes running into you, crashing into your body as waves of pleasure drown out the noise in your head. He eats you out until you feel borderline hysterical.  

You feel melted and reshaped by him - yanking him off when he continues to be insistent after you're too oversensitive. He laughs when you pull him away, resting against your thigh as you take worn out heaving breaths.  

He kisses the inside of your knee as you calm down, bright smile on his features - painted pink with a slight flush. "You came. I'm so happy."  

You look at him in shock. "You're a scary guy."  

He pushes up to kiss your temple, voice soft. "Did I scare you?"  

Your stomach flutters, tucking your chin. "You were intense, but I didn't... hate it or anything."  

"Yeah?" He grins, pressing a few kisses to your cheek and face before whispering against your ear. "Then, is it okay to go farther?"  

You nod silently. Umemiya smiles.  

He stands up on his knees, pushing his hair back as your eyes are drawn to his pants. You reach out for the waistband of his pants unthinkingly, hooking your finger into it. "Isn't it stuffy?"  

He blinks, frozen before rubbing a hand across his face. "Ah a bit, but it's fine."  

"Take 'em off. Please?"  

Umemiya looks unusually distressed by the request, but follows through without another word. You watch him undress - revealing the tight black fabric of his boxer briefs snug against his waist. Your eyes go wide as you see the outline of his cock - head still half hazy. You voice your unfiltered reaction.  

"Your dick is so big,"  

He laughs breathlessly. "Are you trying to stir me up? What's with you?" He pauses to lay down besides you. You turn to lay on your side and face him a little better. "You're being cute. I'm not used to seeing you so docile."  

"Shaddup," You reply half-heartedly. Your body is still on fire but it knocked the wind of you to cum once already. "Your fault."  

He grins, a hint of smugness as he laughs. "That's true."  

"You gonna fuck me?"  

"Mm, yeah. Gotta open you up first or it'll hurt."  

"I've put stuff in before. Toys. Should be fine."   

"Still wanna play it safe. It's your precious first time after all."  

You make a face before pulling him into you, hugging him tight as your whole body breaks out in a shameful flush. "Then hurry up and do it already."  

His arms slide underneath where your laying, holding you to him as he hikes one of your legs up. He slides his free hand in over your leg - his forearm holding your thigh. You press your face to his neck and shoulder - hiding your expression. "Guess I should huh? You were always impatient,"  

You can barely tell him to shut up, the way your body waits for it. A warbled little noise leaves your mouth as he slides his middle finger through the sticky folds of your cunt - careful as it catches on your hole. Wet and so aroused, the first finger he puts in goes in completely smoothly with no real effort 

Umemiya speaks low and soft as he holds you. "I don't know if I can get used to seeing you like this. I'm glad no one else but me ever wil You’re really all I think about lately," He catches the lobe of your ear between his teeth gently. Your head spins. "People misunderstand you because you're prickly, you know? For a long time, only I knew what it felt like to be liked by you. I liked that,"  

"Why are you—mmgh," 

He slides another finger in carefully after the first one slides inside of you with no resistance. His voice is so hot against your skin, the low bass of it in your skull as he speaks so close to your ear.  

"Don't get me wrong I'm happy seeing you with so many people surrounding you. But I was a little sad too. And it kept getting worse over the years until I couldn’t ignore it. I couldn’t figure out why for a long time and then it clicked,” Umemiya explains. You realize half way delirious this is his real confession. God, you’re gonna kill him. “Suddenly it was all I thought about. I wanted to be special to you. I wanted to monopolize you. It was my first time having thoughts like that,”  

Another finger slides into you easily. Umemiyas fingers are so much bigger than yours. Thicker than they are long. The stretch is enough to make you gasp.  

“Hajime—“ 

He curls them up, careful until he finds the spot he’s looking for. Your body reacts, another sensation of pressure as his middle finger rubs tenderly against your gspot. You weakly try to wiggle away as he holds you firm.  

“I felt a little guilty, too. You’re my very best friend. You’re independent and diligent. Tough. But you know, when I saw you for those few months - all I could think about was how much I wanted to spoil you,” He whispers. Something in your body shifts the way touches you. Pushes in further and further - stretching until it’s easy for him to be inside. “Somehow everything I liked about you became so cute I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t help but want to dote on you over every little thing even though I knew better than anyone you didn’t need something like that.”  

Your eyes well up but not necessarily from emotion. Totally overwhelmed. You don’t feel like you’re gonna cum but there’s something else that’s waiting and each time he thrusts his fingers into you it comes a little closer. Your voice is shaking.  

“It—fuck, quit talking. Somethings gonna—“  

His smile grows a little. It’s the first time it looks so hungry.  

“I was happy in general when I realized you liked me too. Even when you were being stubborn, I liked the way you couldn’t turn me away. I liked how happy you looked talking to me as usual as if that alone was something so precious,” He hums, so focused and precise as he stretches you open on a third finger but never once losing his train of thought. Like saying all of these comes to him so easily it doesn’t matter. “I didn’t want to corner you. But it felt like I couldn’t rest until you were mine completely. Which is why I’m being so unfair to you. Why I’m so persistent. ” 

Your voice breaks on a whine. “It’s gonna come out—“  

“You make a pretty face when your heads filled with nothing but me. I don’t think it’s bad to wanna stay that way,” He hums, almost conversational as he presses a kiss to your skin. “Go on. Let go,”  

Something hot sprays between your legs as Umemiya fucks you open on all three of his fingers.  

A rush of warm liquid squirts onto your sheets as your legs shake wearily. Umemiya marvels at the mess. Your hands curl into fists, nails digging in your palms as he finally pulls them out - leaving you stretched, almost gaping.  

You lay limp in soaked sheets as you pull away from Umemiya with a very weak glare.  

He’s smiling at you, dopey and lovesick.  

“Too much?”  

Angrily, you smack at his bare chest over and over, trying to recover your pride.  

“You’re insane. What’s,” You swallow thickly. “What’s with you.”  

He shrugs. Wordless, he flips you onto your back again before hovering over top of you. Pressing his forehead to yours, he brushes your noses together and plants a tentative peck on your lips as if trying to gauge whether or not you’re upset. He melts when you kiss him back, smiling happily.  

“Were you like this with your other girlfriends? No wonder they broke up with you,”  

He laughs. “Mm, no? I was more of a gentleman.”  

You break out into another exhausted fit of laughter.  

“Pfft, yeah? Guess I’m pretty special,” 

“Yeah. You are.” He kisses you again. “Wanna keep going or are you too tired? I don’t mind if we sleep.”  

“Stupid. I said it already didn’t I? Hurry up and fuck me.”  

“Okay, okay. Let me go get the condom from my wallet,”  

You wrap your legs around his waist and stare up at him plainly as he tries to move, keeping him pinned in place. You’re frowning, brows furrowed with a hard glare. He stares at you.  

“Did you want something else? Water?”  

“Want you to fuck me,” You restate, arms reaching up to circle around his neck. “Just do it already.” 

He pulls back to look at you seriously.  

“Do you know what you’re asking?”  

You flush. “Of course I do. Stupid. Are you trying to get me to say it out loud?”  

“I might think I’m deluding myself otherwise.”  

You sigh, looking at him flatly as you try to tamp down the part of you that’s screaming to be more tactful.  

“Don’t bother with the condom, a-alright? Or pulling out,”  

He looks like he’s experiencing the shock of his life. “But…” 

“Stop being dumb or I’m never gonna have sex with you again.”  

He nods suddenly solemn. “Fine. But,”  

You give him another look that silences him. He sighs again, getting the message before kissing your cheek and pull back to sit up on his knees between your legs. Pulling his briefs down, his cock springs free. It looks a lot bigger than you saw underneath the fabric, weighed down from it’s own weight even though it stands up stiff. He opened you up with three but you wonder if it’ll be enough not to stretch you open.  

You reach your hand out to touch it tentatively, feeling it’s weight and heft. He clears his throat but seems content to let you. The palms of your hands cup the shaft, feeling all the veins pulse. The tip is sticky with precum. You pull your hand away, another sudden wave of self consciousness overwhelming you.  

Umemiya hovers over you again, placing he length of his cock against your pussy. You shift a little feeling it slide against you, hard and hot.  

“Gonna put it in now, okay?”  

Nodding, you put your legs up. You take a deep breath when the head pushes in, letting out an involuntary noise. You feel well-stretched but the thickness of his cock is still enough to make you feel it in your legs. Umemiya is focused above you, barely sliding the tip through your folds as you open up around him. The air feels punched out of your lungs on just the first inch.  

His face is strained is he holds his hips steady, leaning down to tap your foreheads together. “Feeling okay?”  

“Mm,” You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Fine. Feels different.”  

“Different?”  

“Yours is bigger than all the stuff I own,” You explain. “Feels hotter. Harder, too.”  

You feel his cock twitch inside of you suddenly, shocking you. He smiles sheepishly.  

“Gonna push in a little more, okay?”  

You nod, watching as Umemiya so slowly presses his cock into you further. Enough that it doesn’t hurt when you take him, as much as it just feels like something is inside of you. You feel a warm sense of satisfaction at how full you feel. You feel like him like he’s in your stomach, taking up so much space. After a while of pushing, stopping, and going again  - he finally bottoms out.  

“You feel incredible,” He murmurs, half-smile on his face. Your stomach flutters. “It’s hard not to cum right away. Feels so good inside of you. I love you.”  

You feel yourself twitch, frowning at the expression of delight Umemiya has. You put your hand against his fact to keep him away but he kisses your palm and moves it. Bottomed out, he grasps both hands and holds them  - pinning them to the bed as you watch him wide-eyed.  

“Think you’re used to it?” He hums, clasping your fingers together. “Is it okay if I move?”  

You feel so damn bashful. “It’s okay.” 

He kisses your forehead. “I’ll go slow.” 

As promised, Umemiya pulls out carefully before pushing back into you. You’re so wet that it slides in without any real friction. It takes a few thrusts of him going slowly for your body to get adjusted to the sensation. After a few motions, though - it starts to feel different.  

Starts to feel good. Really, really good.  

“Oh,” Your eyes flutter open. “Shit. You c-can go faster.”   

“Yeah?”  

You nod, trying not to seem too eager. 

When Umemiya picks up pace, you feel your  the whole lower half of your body weaken all over again. Something in your legs, your spine go soft against the bed underneath, a sudden unusual arousal swelling. Somewhere in deeper as he cocks thrusts against your gspot, knocking against it with more force than before. The change in pace coupled with the visual of Umemiya over you, face drawn together in focus as he fucks you is too much. Split open on his cock, you can hear how wet you are each time he moves.  

“Feels…” Your words come up empty. “’s so much.” 

“Yeah? Is it too much for you, baby?”  

You shake your head as your thoughts get increasingly cloudy. It’s like there’s nothing else your body can focus on. The way his cock drags against your sensitive, silken walls. The feeling of being full to empty and then full all over again. The way your pussy gets so much wetter each time he moves, sloppy and sucking him in so tight. You can feel your body want for him.  

Umemiya lets go of your hands, sliding one between your bodies. Palm resting on your sex, he lets his brush against your clit. The difference it makes is significant, makes your eyes go wide. He smiles a little, hair falling in his face as he pushes it up with his free hand.  

“That’s it,” He hums, contented to keep at it like this. “Feels good, right? Your holding onto me so tightly it’s hard for me to pull out even though you’re so wet.”  

You make a whiny noise and wonder if other peoples first times feel this good or if you’re just outrageously lucky. You decide on the latter he fucks you faster and matches his thrusts with the movement of his fingers. You’re warm all over - skin scorching as your hands find his biceps and shoulders to cling onto.  

Your voice is so whiny when you call out for him “You’re so deep, ngh.”  

He laughs, deep and raspy. “Yeah? Tell me what you’re feeling,”  

“It feels good when you’re in me.” You reply drunkenly. “Want it faster. Please,”  

He complies with your request almost immediately. You cry out loud, physically incapable of holding the sound in as he gets to fucking you faster and harder. Your pussy is throbbing. Senselessly horny, you pull Umemiya closer to you as he fucks you and smash your lips together. You feel so good, so thoroughly fucked and completely out of it. He’s in you but you want him even closer, want the scent of his skin to mark you.  

A second time your body builds up to that familiar feeling but it’s so much farther inside. An orgasm pulled right from your core. Stomach tied in knots as Umemiya fucks you hard, you wrap your legs around his waist and take him. 

“That’s it. You’re so good. Cum on my cock, sweet girl. Let me feel it” He murmurs against your skin, holding you close. “You’re making me feel so good. So cute. Go ahead, it’s okay. Let me see how good I’m making you feel.”  

Pliant to his request, you hold onto Umemiya for dear life as your body gives into second orgasm. Your nails dig into his biceps as the built up arousal gives way pleasure - and you cum hard with his cock sheathed all the way inside of you. All the wind gets stolen from your lungs as you press forward with another kiss, your whole body trembling violently as you let go.  

Umemiya sweet talks you through without letting go once, only stopping to take a pause when you’ve fully ridden out your high.  

You stare up at him in a daze as he takes a breather to kiss you, still hard as he’s bottomed out inside of you.  

“You gonna cum soon?”  

“Mm,” He nods. “Yeah I’m close. If I move, I will.”  

“’s okay to cum in me,”  

Umemiya laughs warmly. “I’m already about too. You’re not helping,”  

You smile a bit as you hug him close to you and tell him again that it’s fine. Before long, he holds you too, whispering the same three words into your neck as he finally lets it out. It’s a weird feeling, thick white ropes of seed spilling into the deepest parts of you.  

You don’t really hate it, though.  

“I love you,” Umemiya repeats. Tired you don’t try to fight yourself.  

“Love you too,”  

__ 

The next morning, you’re stirred away by the sound of your front door unlocking and the sound of Kotoha’s voice echoing through your apartment.  

You’re still half-way asleep, so it barely dawns on you that anything is off. Not cognizant enough to think twice, your body tries to go back to sleep.  

Or it does until you hear a very loud shout coming from your kitchen that wakes you up with a start.  

“No fucking way,”  

You sit up suddenly, hearing faint conversation before the sound of steps barreling towards your door. You just barely manage to pull the sheets up over your chest before she comes storming through the door of your bedroom.  

You watch her eyes scan your entire room, mentally collecting data before she finally lands on you. As your brain starts to load back in, your eyes go wide with horror at the look of pure scandal on her face.  

Fuck. You were supposed to be having dinner with her and Tsubaki tonight. Usually you confirm with them in the mornings since your up. It’s not uncommon for her to drop in when you don’t reply to check in since you live close by. 

Fuck.  

“You—Oh, I have to text Tsubaki-chan, I can’t believe—“  

Before she gets to finish her sentence, Umemiya appears behind her in your door way. The sight of him only adds fuel to the flame of your embarrassment. You went another round or two before bed last night and it looks like it too. Shirtless in sweats he left over a while ago, his biceps are covered in scratch and with a few hickies, he’s wearing his hair down with a cup of tea and a very apologetic smile.  

You cover your face with your hands unsure of how to deal with the feeling of pure mortification.  

Kotoha snaps a picture of your room that causes even more distress.  

“If you don’t delete that right now, I’m gonna kill us both.”  

“In your dreams.”  

Umemiya laughs warmly. “Please don’t kill each other.”  

He slides past Kotoha coming over to you. Bending down to kiss your forehead, he pulls the blanket up over you so you’re more well-covered. You give him an incredulous but Umemiya is unfazed - smiling as bright as ever. 

“Good morning,”  

“I can’t believe my eyes,” Kotoha says. She points at Umemiya. “You, go put on a shirt.”  

“Fine, fine. Stay for breakfast,” Umemiya says with a smile. “It’ll be nice having it with my two favorite people.”  

You make another face as Umemiya gives you a long, affectionate look before disappearing. She sighs as she looks at you, pinching the bridge of her nose.  

“I would ask if you’re gonna meet us for dinner but you don’t have a choice anymore so show up at seven. I’m gonna leave before that tactless idiot comes back. We’ll talk later.”  

You nod in understanding. She turns to leave but then turns back with a genuine smile.  

“And, well - congrats. He’s a tactless idiot but he does love you or whatever. Cherish each other,”  

You flush, nodding your head. “Yeah…thanks.”  

With that Kotoha leaves quickly. Umemiya returns still shirtless, pouting a little when he notices she’s gone.  

“She left already?”  

“Of course she did. I can’t believe you would invite her for breakfast.”   

Umemiya shrugs. “No point being coy about it. I thought it’d be nice. I was looking for a shirt but I guess I don’t need one now,” He sits besides you on the bed, turning to face with a goofy smile. “Anyways, good morning.”  

“You already said that.”  

“You didn’t say it back,”  

You frown. “G’morning,”  

He smiles suddenly  before grabbing you from underneath the blankets and sheets - pulling your naked body ontop of him as he grins. Sunlight pours through the window as he holds you to his chest, kissing the crown of your head before pressing his cheek into your hair.  

“Mm, yeah. It’s a really good morning after all.”  

“You’re stupid.”  

“And you love me,”  

You fail trying not to smile.  Damn him. You're so happy it hurts. You roll your eyes.

“I guess so.”  

[ericshoney]

Family Troubles ~ Sturniolo Triplets

Summary: Your dad wasn't the kindest man, especially after your mother passed and even after distancing yourself from your friends, they are still there for you.

Warnings: Mentions of death, abuse (verbal and physical), swearing, crying, shouting, anxiety, platonic pet names

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Your just a stupid bitch! Grow the fuck up and get a real job or get out my fucking house!" Your father shouted.

You ran to your room, slamming the door shut and locking it behind you, before you threw yourself onto your bed, crying.

A year ago, your mother passed and since then your father has been a total asshole. He's taken to blaming you for it and with every given moment to hurt you, verbally and physically. Today, your father decided to hurt you about your career of being an influencer.

As a result of the abuse from your father, you had started to shut people out of your life. You stopped replying to messages as often and not hanging out with them either. A few of your so-called friends left you for this, but four remained strong. Nate, Nick, Matt and Chris.

The sturniolo boys were back in Boston for a bit and wanted to see you as they noticed a change in you. Nate had been in contact with the guys, telling them about your change in behaviour and sudden anxieties and of course, they all wanted to help.

Banging on your bedroom door suddenly brought you out of your thoughts. You were happy you remembered to lock it as your father shouted through the wooden barrier.

"Hey bitch! I'm going out for more beer! You better start thinking about a real job by the morning or get the fuck out!" He shouted, repeating most of the words from eariler.

You sighed as you heard his heavy footsteps walk away and the front door closed. You slowly got up and opened your bedroom door to hear nothing. You slowly went downstairs and saw your father's car gone. You then went to the kitchen to grab a drink, but a knock at the door startled you, making you drop the glass you had grabbed.

"Fuck." You mumbled, seeing the glass on the floor.

You stood still, wondering if the person would go away, but when the knocking continued you knew they were determined. You slowly walked to the door and opened it a bit, only to see your four best friends standing there.

"Hey kid!" Nick called cheerfully.

"Oh hey guys.....What brings you here?" You asked, not opening it fully for them to see the messy house.

"To see you of course! We haven't seen you in ages, plus we know something is going on." Matt answered.

"Oh um...nothing is going on I'm just....busy." You tried to lie, but you and the guys knew it was your weakness.

"Sweetheart, come on, let us in. We're not like those fake people, we're not going anywhere." Nick said softly.

You bit the inside of your cheek and knew they wouldn't leave, the four of them have been with you since high school. Holding back the tears, you opened the door, letting the four in.

"I just accidentally dropped a glass in the kitchen, I gotta clean it up." You said as they stood in the living room.

"No way, kid. I'll clean it up." Chris said, walking into the kitchen to see the broken glass.

Once Chris had cleaned up the glass, you all went to your bedroom, sitting around. You smiled a bit, remembering old times.

"Okay, I'm not one to push, but what's with the bruise on your cheek?" Nate asked you carefully.

"Oh um I-" You started to say, trying to think of another lie, but Matt stopped you, holding your hand gently.

"Don't lie, bub. It's okay, your safe with us." He said.

"My....My dad hit me last week." You admitted, the tears now falling down your cheeks slowly.

"The fuck." Chris mumbled.

"He....He's been abusing me, since mum passed. He hits me and shouts and me and says I need a real job and that being an influncer isn't a real job and if I don't get one I gotta get out but I don't earn enough yet to live alone and what if something happens?" You rambled on, your breath picking up.

"Hey, hey breath bub. It's okay. Just breathe, follow my breathing. Deep breath in and out." Matt said, helping you calm down.

"He still blames me." You said quietly, once you had calmed down.

"Sweetheart, it was never your fault." Nick said, rubbing your shoulder.

"What do I do?" You asked, looking at the four.

They sighed, never seeing you this broken before and knew they had to do something about it. They all shared a look and nodded.

"Get packing. We're going to Nate's place." Chris said.

With that being said, the five of you started packing all of your stuff. Everything you needed and wanted to take with you. It took a bit of time, but luckily Matt had drove so with a few trips to the car, which was now full, your bedroom was quickly bare.

"You want to leave anything for your dad?" Nate asked you.

"Yeah." You answered with a nod.

You quickly wrote a note, explaining you had finally had enough and never wanted anything to do with him again. You left it in the kitchen and left before he returned home.

"Thanks guys." You said softly.

"Of course kid. Your our friend we're not going to let some asshole hurt you anymore. We wish you had told us sooner but we understand why. Now everything is going to be okay." Nick said with a smile.

You returned the smile and enjoyed the loud car ride to Nate's house, happy with finally coming clean to your friends.

[beybaldes]

I know why we had to say goodbye like the back of my hand

summer sleepover masterlist

jamie tartt x gn!reader

summary : “am i supposed to just let you go?” / “for what it’s worth, i really am sorry”

content warning : technically a part 2 ‘I’d go back in time and change it but I can’t,’ can be read stand alone, more protective!roy and bestfriend!colin, Jamie’s past is held against him and it hurts his feelings because he has changed, two uses of yn, jamie being clueless, angstyish

an : can you tell I’m obsessed with Taylor’s music? Better man is one of the best vault tracks to exist fight me I listened to it the whole time writing this fic.

Christmas and New years come and go and when the first day back at the dog track comes around you’ve almost forgotten about Jamie entirely.

You haven’t spent a single minute of the holidays thinking of him, and yet, he’s spent every single minute of it thinking about you. In no more then 10 seconds, you’d shattered whatever hope he’d had left that maybe, just maybe, he could heal things over between the two of you. And even after that, you’d still wished him a merry Christmas. He was going to get fucking whiplash if things carried on like this.

It was exactly that which had brought him to Keeley’s doorstep at 6am on New Year’s Day. Roy answers the door and he’s still in what he assumes is lasts nights clothes. Even though Roy doesn’t particularly like Jamie, not after what he did to you, he knows Jamie wouldn’t show up here without reason, so he invites him in. He guides Jamie through to the living room and says he’s going to get Keeley but that they’ll be right back. Jamie knows he must look rough if Roy wants to sit in on the conversation too.

There’s glitter on the floor after the party Jamie wasn’t invited to. He’s knows you were here last night. You may still have him blocked on everything, but Colin doesn’t, and fuck, does Colin love posting you. Posting pictures of you all dressed up for the new year, looking perfect as ever, posting videos of the two of you on his story, taking shots together or dancing ridiculously around Keeley’s living room. Part of him knows that in another life, one where he had been a better man sooner, it would’ve been him in Colin’s place; dancing with you at a party, sharing drinks with you, and if he was really lucky, maybe even sharing a kiss at midnight.

“Jamie! Hi! Hey! What are- what are you doing here, babe?” Jamie can tell she’s just as surprised as Roy was to find him here, but that doesn’t deter him from why he came. He knows there’s only one way that he can become a better man, and that’s by trying. “Here, have a pillow.”

Keeley makes sure each of them have a bright, pink pillow in their laps before she encourages Jamie to talk, leaning forward across her own pillow to show Jamie she’s really listening. Even Roy seems open to hearing him out, stretching his arms out across the back of Keeley’s sofa.

“I need to know how I can make things better with yn.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Jamie’s barely got his words out when Roy’s growled at him and Keeley’s smacked Roy in his chest. He takes her hand gently in his and holds it in his lap and Jamie almost winces at the sweet nothingness of the action. “I mean, they’ve told you to leave them alone, so, leave them alone.” Jamie thinks Roy’s changed too, until a mere second later, he lets out the fakest cough known to mankind. “Prick.”

“Oi, I didn’t come here to get bullied by a pensioner, I came here for actual advice.” And just like that Jamie had slipped back into the shell of the person he’d been trying to leave behind. People like Roy made it all too easy, picking on his weak spots with the smallest of words, and causing all his progress to come crashing down.

“What Roy means…” Keeley interrupted, breaking up the bickering before it could ever even really begin. “Is that you made your bed Jamie, now you’ve got to lie in it. If they don’t want to forgive you, or most on from the past, then that’s their choice. You can’t force anyone to forgive you.”

“But everyone else has.” Jamie whined, head thrown back against one of Keeley’s many throw pillows as he took to lying on the settee instead. “I don’t understand why they won’t. I’m trying so…” Jamie paused, sucking in a long breath. He was trying so hard to be better and he couldn’t say that because strong men didn’t need to be better, strong men didn’t want to change for the people they loved. The smaller voice, the one that grew a little louder day in and day out, said the opposite; strong men do change for the people they love, they apologise and they acknowledge their mistakes (even when it hurts to do so). “I just don’t get why they won’t forgive me when almost everyone else has.”

“Did you happen to forget that, out of everyone, yn is the one you actually, literally, cheated on?” Silence fell over Keeley’s living room for the first time in almost 24 hours, and Jamie was sure he’d never heard something so loud in his life. “That maybe, more then anything, more then an apology, what they want is for you to explain why you did what you did?”

“No one wants to know why.” Jamie scoffed, thinking of the multiple apologies he’d make to partners in his lifetime. Each and everyone wanted an apology, he would give it to them, they’d fuck one last time, and then break up on ‘mutual’ terms claiming that it was ‘for the best’. Obviously, he didn’t want things to go like that with you, he wanted to really apologise and for you to really forgive him, and then for the two of you to work on building a friendship between the two of you. But that didn’t mean he’d ever have expect you to want to know why he did what he did. “They want an apology, and for you to seem sorry, and then that’s usually it.”

Keeley eyed him suspiciously, eyes like daggers in a way unusual and unnerving to Jamie. “You don’t know why you did it, do you?”

Jamie can feel Roy’s hand curl into a fist from across the room and he’s sure that if he was any closer he’d be able to hear his blood boiling. “No.” Jamie answers instantly and honestly. “No. I don’t. That’s just who I was then.”

“That’s bullshit.” Roy’s been speaking more then Keeley has and Jamie’s wishing he’d come over for the help at a different time. “You had a year? Two years? To come up with a reason, and that’s all you’ve got?”

Jamie wants to argue. It’s his instinct to argue. To get in some brutal back and forth debating which of them was right about the matter, ultimately say something he shouldn’t, and upset Keeley by upsetting Roy just so he can get out of the conversation. The smaller voice inside his head that’s getting louder tells him the right thing to do, the thing a good man would do, is be honest. So that’s what he does. “They really cared about me, more then anyone ever had, yeah?” Jamie sits up on the sofa, leans his elbows against his knees and hangs his joined hands between his open legs, pulling at his fingers. “Do you know how scary that is? Everyone who was supposed to care about me just ends up hurting me. So, I beat them to it. Hurt them before they can hurt me.”

Keeley and Roy try and get more out of Jamie but he decides he’s been vulnerable enough today and that he has a lot to think about. He spends the remainder of his time off before the season begins again hiding in his bedroom, and thinking about what he did wrong like a told off child.

He decides that on the first day back at the dog track, he’s going to explain everything to you. He’s going to fully embody the better man he’s been trying to become, the man he knows, that once upon a time you knew, he could be.

Thankfully, you have a very peaceful first day back at the dog track. Colin and Isaac come and eat lunch in your office with you, Will hangs around throughout the afternoon helping you with some errands, and Roy brings you coffee at 4 when he knows he’s heading out for the day but you’ve still got some work to do. You’ve barely taken a sip of the saving grace when Jamie enters your office and locks the door behind him. You simply ignore him, continuing to tap away on your laptop and blocking out the image of his puppy dog eyes from your brain.

“Look, can we just talk, yeah?” It seemed Jamie had a way of making you angry by even suggesting he had a right to your time; you stopped typing even though you didn’t mean to. “I want to apologise, and explain, and even if we can’t be friends again, I just don’t want things to be weird anymore.”

“And who’s fault is it that things are weird?” You asked, closing your laptop and leaning back in your chair, creating as much space between the two of you as possible.

“I know, mine, just let me talk, yeah?” Jamie knew he had to get the words out before you interrupted him again or he’d never say them, never give you the explanation Roy had explained, and Jamie had come to understand, you deserved. “I hurt you because I didn’t want you to hurt me. You know what my dads like, what the other people I’ve dated have been like, and every single one of them leaves. And you didn’t, and you didn’t look like you were going too either.” Jamie took a deep breath, holding his own hands to stop them from shaking. “That was so scary, to me, to have someone care about me like that. And, I don’t know, my brain made me think, like, that you were just waiting to hurt me sooner or later, so I should hurt you first.”

You’d fallen completely silent and it entirely unnerved Jamie. All of it made too much sense and a part of you felt so bad for the way you’d acted these past few months. However, you also knew that while Jamie’s insecurities was an explanation to why he did what he did, that it wasn’t an excuse.

“And I couldn’t just break up with you, because I didn’t want to, and I know my actions might not have show it, but I really loved you. And, yeah, I should’ve talked about it instead of sleeping with someone else and getting you to end things, but I didn’t know how to do that back then.” Jamie sucks in a shaky breath and a part of you yearns to hug him, to tell him to not get worked up about it, but you stay in your seat. “And it fucking sucked because I got what I wanted. And I felt so good about it, that you’d hurt me by breaking up with me and that I’d been right, and then I just felt sad.” For the first time since entering your office, Jamie looks at you. “And I just wanted to let you know, that it was never your fault that I did it, it was mine.”

A long silence took over the office, neither you nor Jamie speaking or even breathing as you took in the weight of the words just said to you. Everyone had been telling you for months now that Jamie had changed and you’d been so adamant it was a ruse, but here he was, pouring his heart out to you with the best apology you think he’s ever given, and proving he was a better man.

You stood from your chair, grabbed your bag and half drunk coffee, and tucked the chair under the desk. As you grabbed your laptop and notebook to take home with you, you finally spoke up. “Thank you for explaining Jamie, you don’t know how good it is to hear that after everything. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Jamie brow creased and he moved to step closer to the door, stopping you from leaving immediately. “What? So, that’s it?” When you didn’t answer, Jamie took a step forward, reaching his hand out for yours and finding himself surprised when you didn’t push him away. “Am I supposed to just let you go?”

“You know, Jamie, I missed you every minute of every day for the first 8 months, and then I just wished you had been better.” You squeezed his hand gently and for a moment Jamie felt like he’d woken up from some bad dream and he was still where he was 2 years ago. “And then, I woke up one day, and I didn’t think of you at all.” Jamie knew he’d been a dick, he knew he’d hurt you in a way no one deserved to be hurt, he knew you loved him and he pushed that love away like you’d been offering him a loaded gun instead of the key to your heart. “You would’ve been the one if things had been different, but they weren’t different. And that’s okay, but that means you need to let me go.”

Jamie felt sick to his stomach, god, he couldn’t imagine anything worse to happen to him, and yet, he’d done it all to himself. “Im always going to love you, J.” For 2 years Jamie had imagined you saying those exact words to him, forgiving him for his mistakes and turning things back to how they used to be. It shouldn’t be breaking his heart to hear what he’d hoped, and dreamt, and spent sleepless nights praying for.

Jamie let you leave then, stepping away from the door with a downcast look across his face, and finally pulling himself away from your touch. What if he never got to touch you so softly again? What if this was the last time he ever heard you tell him you loved him? What if this was the last time you let him in your door? “For what it’s worth, I really am sorry.”

“I know Jamie, I am too.” You took a step forward, but not towards the door, wrapping your arms gently around Jamie, humming against his neck when his fingers clawed into your shirt and his lips trembled against your temple. “I am too.”

You left your office together and walked Jamie to his car, you said no when he offered you a lift home and he didn’t beg you to accept it. Even if you had said yes, you doubted he knew the drive from the dog track to your new place, and you didn’t want to hurt him more by letting him find out he didn’t know you like he knew the back of his hand anymore.

Tomorrow morning the team will be surprised by the fact you say good morning to everyone including Jamie, but for right now, alone in the empty Nelson Road car park, Jamie finally gets it, and he finally mourns the love he once lost.

[kenny-the-ken]

Alone at Last Pt 1

Kyle's fic should be out already by the time this gets posted, so I hope you guys enjoy it!! This one I am sooooo excited for, I might actually make it a small series, drug dealer Kenny is my weakness, cause he most definitely would sell drugs, and take drugs most likely. Warnings: NSFW content, not suitable for minors, drugs, alcohol and strong language!! AGED UP CHARACTERS

"Let's get the fuck outta hear." Kenny spoke to you on the phone, he'd had another argument with his parents, and this was the final straw.

"They think I'm a like a charity! I sell drugs for a living, I ain't gonna make no money if they keep taking all my product!" He shouted, loud enough for his parents to hear, and you could hear them screaming back at him in the background.

"Ken, babe, come over." Your tone was gentle, calming, and that was just what Kenny needed right now, he physically and mentally couldn't take it anymore. He was trying his best to make the most out of a shitty situation, and once again his parents were ruining it.

"I will babe, not until I pack all my shit first, I ain't coming back to this shithole, I'd rather shoot myself in the head again, it's more enjoyable." He shouted back at his parents, and you knew his frustrations. You and Kenny had been dating for a while now (3 years), and you had lost track of how many arguments he and his parents have had over the years, and how many times Kenny had appeared at your house, battered and bruised.

"My mom's out, Ken. Come over." You said once more, and Kenny let out a long sigh, you could hear rustling in the background, as if things were being put into plastic bags.

"I'll be there in ten. I love you."

"I love you too, Ken."

And with that the line went dead. You knew Kenny's resolve was worn incredibly thin, much like your own. Your mother was no where near as bad as Kenny's parents, but she put drugs and men before you, she always had and she always would. You were just thankful that you were an only child, Kenny wasn't that lucky.

You sat pondering in your own thoughts as you heard a loud knock at the door, and you opened it, Kenny walking inside, his car parked outside, and looking full to the brim with his possessions.

"When's your mom coming back?" Kenny asked, wrapping his slender arms delicately around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

"Not a fucking clue, she never even tells me when she's heading out, never mind when she's coming back. Why, what's wrong?" You enquired, wrapping your own arms around Kenny's neck, balancing on your tip toes to place a kiss on his lips before he spoke.

"I meant what I said on the phone, y/n. Pack your stuff, we're getting the fuck outta this god forsaken town once and for all. Somewhere we'll not be judged for not being well off, somewhere we can actually thrive together. The only good thing that's came from living here is meeting you, please say you'll come with me?" His eyes were soft, pleading with you to join him, and you smiled back at him, his serious face melting away into one of sheer relief.

"Let's do it. We've got each other, we don't need anyone or anything else. Come help me pack." You spoke, taking Kenny by the hand, leading him to your bedroom.

"We could always get frisky before we go." Kenny flirted, giving your ass a slap, making you jump in surprise, spinning to look at him.

"Or I could suck you off while you drive down the freeway?" You offered, knowing that Kenny would never turn down an offer like that.

"Then what are we waiting for babe, let's get your stuff packed and get this show on the road!" Kenny exclaimed, a smirk on his face as you both began cramming clothes, shoes, makeup and anything else you owned into two large suitcases. You lifted your glass bong and Kenny took it from you.

"I've got a box in the back of the car that this can go into so it doesn't get broken, babe." He said, pulling an unlit joint from his jacket pocket, placing it delicately between his chapped, pale pink lips and sparking it up, taking a long drag of it and exhaling, passing it to you.

"You ready to go, babe?" You asked as Kenny took down one of the pictures from your bedroom wall, and put it under his arm.

"Can't forget our prom photo, now can we? Now get your sexy ass into the car and I'll bring your stuff out and put it in the back." Kenny spoke, as you passed the joint back to him, it now hanging from his lips lazily as he puffed on it a few times.

And finally, once everything was inside, you both smiled at each other, smoking the joint between you both as Kenny rolled down all the windows as the car reached the last part of South Park.

"See you never, assholes!" Kenny shouted from the window, and you let out a few whoops yourself, both of you smiling stupidly at each other on your way to make a new life.

[mr2swap]

I'm already regretting this

-Man, is this how you feel all the time? God! This feels so weird but so good! Look at my biceps they are huge they are the size of your head and look at you now! From up here, you look so small and so pathetic, that's how you see me all the time dude, that body sucks!- 

In front of me was Fred now in my muscular and huge body, flexing his now huge and perfect giving me a show with his newly acquired new weapons, it's a bit strange to see myself and my body see how many years it took me to build in the gym being handled by someone as weak and pathetic as Fred is.

I'm already regretting this, when I was about to fail my chemistry exam I had no choice but to ask my goth sister for help with a magic solution or some sorcery shit, I didn't think the only thing she would come up with was my stupid fat sister would be spelled to swap bodies with the most pathetic nerd in the whole fucking school, I dragged him into the school bathroom and I told him my plan at first he thought I was playing one of my pranks on him but then reading the spell aloud our souls came out of our mouths and swapped places.

It feels so weird being under 2 meters and having this pathetic skinny body. How the fuck can Fred live like this? This is so fucking humiliating that I want to die but I need to pass the exam ormy parents are going to kill me.

- quiet man, lower your voice someone can hear you! - I said using my pathetic and shrill voice, damn! Even my voice is horrible now. -

-We're not even friends or anything, you're just the punching bag the baseball team uses to blow off steam when they lose a game, oh… by the way, maybe you should go home early, I heard you guys didn't do so well at the game last night and with that fagot face even I want to hit you now. -

-And what are they going to do if someone listens to me? I'm Thomas Green! alpha male of this school, besides no one is going to believe this shit that you and I exchanged our bodies- Without wasting time Fred dipped his face in one of the sweaty cans that were now his and inhaled all the smelly aroma that came out of that wet and hot armpits.

-Fred take it easy, it's only during the day, tomorrow we'll go back to our bod- oh SHIT, I forgot that I also have a geography test and a arithmetic test-All my life you were Athletic and huge practically the gym is my second home and now everything I had worked for and was admired for was in front of me, but it was no longer mine.

-relax man I'm just having fun with you, should worry about "yourself" from now-

Sure, being in Fred's skinny body sucked, but it was a small price to pay for all the sex and fun we'll have on the beach with the cheerleading squad, but right now I couldn't imagine being in that situation. I felt weak. Sick and a little excited to see all my hard work in the gym in front of me.

- I also remind you that if you weren't stupid enough to pass the exams yourself, you wouldn't be in this situation, Let me have a little fun With "my" huge muscles, and you don't go to summer school, deal?-

A calloused hand that had been molded every day by lifting the weights in the gym, he was smiling showing off My white teeth and that charismatic smirk that I had used to lure countless girls into my bed, "Just... take it." Calmly, I don't want anyone to think that I went crazy... - I extended my hand to close our deal, The comparison of our hands was evident, he was strong and Norma and mine were bony, weak, and pale, he squeezed my hand hurting me a bit and making me step back and fall on the wet bathroom floor.

- I'm sorry man I'm not used to being a fucking God, anyway I have things to do see you later NERD! - As he left the bathroom door he laughs a little, leaving me alone wet from what didn't seem to be water, Damn I'm already regretting this...

Hey! You can support me to continue creating stories, see similar stories on my patreon, you can also join my discord if you are interested in role-playing about bodyswap, possession and transformation, m2m!

[obsessedwithpedritoofc]

Mʏ Oɴʟʏ Rᴇᴀsᴏɴ (Fʀᴀɴᴋɪᴇ Mᴏʀᴀʟᴇs)

ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘: Frankie Morales × Transmasc Reader.

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 7,3 k.

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: Both sent to the same prison, with different reasons and different problems to deal with. At least most of them, until one brought them together.

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: au, angst, violence, mentions of blood, shots being fired, mentions of death, mentions of killing, allusion to drugs, mentions of anger problems, mentions of scars, fluff, not wanting to have sex, frankies a sweetheart ofc, similarities with the series "time", actual physical descriptions of reader (but not detailed), no use of Y/N (reader is referred to as Lost). (lmk if i missed any).

𝔸/ℕ: hellooo as i suppose you already know, i LOVED writing this shit. frankie is my favorite pedro character and will always be and whenever i write something for him i get really excited. anyway so, this is based on the series "time", which is why it has some similarities to it but i mainly got inspiration from my own imagination :D whatever, im starting to bore myself lol. enjoy <3

𝕡𝕥 𝕚 𝕞𝕪 𝕠𝕟𝕝𝕪 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕠𝕟

𝕡𝕥 𝕚𝕚 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕥

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

That was it. You almost had it. You just had to pull the trigger...

"Come on, get up!", there was a firm, insistent knock at the door of your cell. You looked at the ceiling, sighed and reluctantly got up.

Of all the bad days you had —and you had many bad days—, that was the worst day you could have been transferred. Your legs were stiff, your knuckles were broken and bloodied, and the scar in your stomach was making your insides hurt more than usual, though maybe that was because of the hunger. But well, it's not like you could even choose when to be transferred or where. That fight hadn't been your fault.

"Move, asshole", you looked up at him. He grabbed the chicken sandwich from your tray.

"Aren't you a bit too small to be a boy?", he laughed. Some of the ones behind him did, too.

"Give me my fucking sandwich back and move out of the way", you tried to stand your ground, not look weak, give them a warning.

"Oh, lookit that! Little girl's gotten all mad—".

You didn't give him the chance to finish the sentence before you smashed your tray right on his face, making him fall to the floor with a heavy thud. You got on his lap and started hitting your fist on his nose, his mouth, his eyes, everything you could hit. Until the alarm went off and you were surrounded and grabbed by a bunch of guards that took you to an isolation cell.

Next day, you were being transferred to a prison thousands of kilometers away from him. You didn't even know where they were going to take you. But you didn't care either. At this point, you didn't really care about anything.

When you arrived to your new home it was snowing and you were freezing. As you were approaching, the driver gave you a brief explanation of how weather and life were like in that prison. You didn't see yourself living in a place where it was always cold and raining —or snowing, that day specifically—, let alone for more than twenty years and between all those freaks.

Your time in that last prison had been cut short barely a month after you got in. You rejected every chance you were given to call your family or whoever close to you, and you didn't receive a single visit. Not like you had anyone close to you either. The only one that had once been was now gone.

You spent your first day in prison like it had been your forever home. The next day, though, everyone knew who you were and started looking at you as if you were their next prey. Or more as if they knew why you were there. Luckily for you, no one approached more than necessary. And luckily for you, you didn't really have to approach anyone at all, since you didn't even have a cellmate.

A week in, though, a group of inmates paid you a visit while you were reading in your cell. One of them looked outside to make sure there was no one dangerously nearby, then closed the door. The man at the front stood still, looking at you and scanning the room. Then, he sat next to you on the bed. You immediately sat up by instinct and scanned them all as well. There was three of them —four counting the on sitting next to you. You really didn't have much of a chance if you wanted to suddenly run away, but you could knock out their boss and one of them if you were fast enough.

"I know who you are", said the one on your side.

"Before you continue, you should know the last person who told me I was small didn't end very well", you spoke fast, looking at him in the eyes with an expressionless demeanor, showing you weren't weak and that you were going to stand your ground.

"Oh, I know that, too", he smiled. "That's why you were transferred here, right?".

You sighed. The situation was starting to be a bit too clich�� and boring for your liking.

"What do you want?", you didn't take your eyes off of his.

"Nothing", he raised his eyebrows. "Yet".

Of course, you thought, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

"So?", you crossed your arms. The man beside you stayed silent for a while.

"Do people around here know what you really are?".

Your demeanor immediately changed, shifting from an expressionless one to a scared one. You knew what he was talking about. 

But how the hell did he know?

"Who the fuck are you?", you found yourself suddenly lacking of oxygen. He just smiled.

"I'll come to you when I need a favor", he got up and walked to the door, then knocked. The man behind it opened it. "In the meantime, try not to get in much trouble".

And just like he had walked in, he also walked out. You gasped for air the very second you were left alone. 

Great, one week in that prison and you had somehow already fucked up. 

"Hey", another man was standing by the door now. He wasn't one of the other guy's men. "You good?", he looked around the room as if he was searching for something.

"Uh... Yeah", you frowned. "Why?".

"Those assholes are always up to somethin', wouldn't be a surprise if they were tryna get you in", he put his hands in his pockets and leaned his side on the doorframe.

"Do you want something?", you sounded a bit annoyed.

"No. I, uh, was jus' checkin' you weren't hurt".

"Well, I'm not. Thanks", you forced a brief smile. "You can leave now".

"Right", he pulled away from the door. "Sorry for botherin' ya".

When he was out of sight, you breathed again.

You took some time to think. Maybe if you did what the guy had told you to, you'd be out of trouble. By the moment, the best for you was to stay out of trouble. He had said not to, perhaps so that cops around wouldn't keep much of an eye on you in case he was going to ask you for a favor —you'd be out of suspicion.

You sighed. You knew you were fucked. But maybe you could keep yourself from making it worse.

"Why?", you held up the gun. "Why did you do it?", tears were streaming down your face.

"I had no choice".

"Why did you do this to me?!", you took a step back.

"I didn't know I'd get y—".

"Get the fuck away from me!!!".

And then you shot.

You sat at the back of the dining room. You were lucky to go down early so you could avoid the masses of inmates that fought over the last piece of bread. Unfortunately, the assholes were something you couldn't avoid. Especially the ones that came to you that morning.

"Well, hello", he sat beside you once again, followed by his men.

"What?", your tone was stern, though your face gave away your concern of what he might say. He didn't say anything at first and grabbed the bread from your tray. "That's mine", you spat.

"Not anymore", he looked into you eyes with as much sternness as your tone was holding at first. "I need you to do something for me", he smiled.

Shit, was your only thought.

"What?".

"But I need to know I can trust you before I give you a task".

"No. You tell me what you want me to do and I'll decide if I do it—".

"I think you don't understand how this works", he moved closer. "I tell you to do something, and you just do it. You don't do it, I tell everyone about you. You fuck it up, I tell everyone about you. You tell the cops, I tell everyone about you", he stared into your eyes. "Are we clear?".

You didn't say anything. You didn't want to make him think you were one to submit easily, but you didn't have any other choice either. Luckily for you, he wasn't looking to humiliate you and just let it be.

"A friend of mine's gonna leave some stuff by your cell one of these days", he pulled slightly away. "I need you to hide it and save it until I come get it".

You put on your usual expressionless demeanor.

"Okay", was your answer. He smiled.

"That's more like it", he patted your shoulder and got up. "Good thing we're on the same page".

And like that, he just walked away again.

You looked around, searching for anyone that might have seen you. Everyone else seemed to be minding their own business, except for the man that had gone check on you the first time that group of inmates had gone talk to you. He was staring at you with a knowing look from a couple tables away. You saw him well this time: he was wearing a cap and his moustache barely hid half of his upper lip. He got up with his tray before you could scan him any longer, then walked up to you and sat by your table.

"What did he say this time?", he asked.

"Hello to you, too", you rolled your eyes and went back to eating. "Why do you care so much anyway?".

"Because the last people I saw him approach to didn't end well".

"Well, define not well", you said with your mouth full.

"Beaten up by cops. By himself. Ended in the hospital", he paused to think. "Dead".

You stopped chewing for a moment, then continued.

"And why me?", you swallowed. "There's a lot of people in here, at least one of them all's gotta be in some shit with those guys".

" 'Course they do, but most of 'em want the reward he gives 'em", he took a bite of his own food. "You didn't seem to".

"Yeah, well, I guess he ran outta rewards because he didn't offer me one", you raised your eyebrows while looking down at your plate, having another bite.

"Then why did you accept to do his dirty work?".

"I didn't ac—".

"I saw him gettin' outta here with your bread n' all smiley, you must've said somethin' he liked".

You stopped eating and slammed your hands on the table.

"Look, man. Whatever I do or not is none of your goddamn business, so I suggest you start minding your own shit unless you wanna end beaten up like the last person that fucked around with me", you stared into his eyes, your own set on fire. He threw his hands up.

"A'right", he grabbed his tray and got up. "Sorry for b—".

"Bothering me, yeah, sure, you can go", you shooed him. He knew better than to keep insisting, so he walked away.

You went back to your cell as soon as you were done eating. Damn, you did miss the bread. But to be honest, it wasn't really something you were concerned about. What really worried you at that moment was which kind of stuff was that bastard's friend going to make you hide and what would happen to you in case you were caught in a room inspection.

You hoped nothing too bad.

It was done. You had done it. It was over.

You stood there, looking at the body laying on the floor in a puddle of blood.

Then you heard police sirens.

"Drop your gun!", they broke the door open. They held their gun up. You held yours on the side of your head.

"Get back!", you screamed.

"Drop your gun and get on the floor!", they kept saying.

You saw no better way out of it. So you shot once again.

A knock on your door woke you up. You hit your forehead with the metal bars under the bunk bed when you jumped, startled. You cursed yourself and rubbed the hurt spot on your forehead before getting up.

No words were shared between you and the man at the other side of the door. He just lent you a small paper bag. You hesitantly grabbed it, then he walked away.

You went back inside. You sat on your bed, asking yourself if you should open the bag or not. To be honest, it wasn't really closed, so the others wouldn't really know if you had looked inside. It's not like he had said you couldn't look. Technically, you were doing nothing wrong—

"What did he give you?".

You hit your head again with the bars.

"Dude, what the fuck!", you rubbed the top of your head. You turned to look at the door, finding the same guy that had sat with you on the dining room more than a week ago. "Oh, it's you", you huffed. "Didn't I tell you to leave me the fuck alone?".

"I know", he walked inside. "But seriously, you need some help with that guy".

"Of course, I do", you smiled sarcastically. "Out of the two times he's talked to me, I haven't been beaten up, I'm not in the hospital and I'm not dead!", you threw your hands up. "I didn't even get in trouble with any cops because of him! Of course I need help with that guy!".

The man stayed silent as you gave him your most sarcastic smile. Then you shifted back to you usual expressionlessness.

"Why do you think I need help?", you shrugged angrily. "Is it because I'm not big and buffed like the dogs he carries around with him?".

"That's not wha—".

"You think I'm weak? Is that it?", you stood up to face him. "Well, lemme tell you something, old man. This is not my first prison, and I've been surviving on my own long enough as to be able to beat the shit out of everyone in this place if I wanted to", you stared into his eyes with your brow deeply frowned.

"I didn't mean that", he spoke slowly, definitely more calmed than you. His eyes flicked down for a moment before looking back into yours. "I jus' thought that, in case he wants to fuck you up real bad, you'd be better with someone by your side".

You cleared your throat and stepped back, looking up at him.

"Someone by my side, huh?", you resisted the urge to laugh. "Because I can't handle myself well enough?".

"I already told you I didn't mean—".

"I know", you chuckled this time. "I'm just fucking with ya", you sat back on the bed. "I understand that you feel alone in here and want a friend. And who better than the new inmate, right?", you gave him a knowing smirk. He couldn't help but smile back.

"Shit, you caught me", he sat beside you as well. "I feel so lonely in this prison", he chuckled. "I'm Francisco, by the way".

"Francisco? What kind of name is that?", you bursted into laughter. 

"Jus' call me Frankie, goddammit. No need to make a big fuss 'bout it", his mumbling made you laugh more.

"Yeah, Frankie's a definitely better name".

You spent a couple minutes like that, just laughing at the stupidity of it all. Truth be told, you hadn't laughed that hard in months. And you needed it.

"So", he said after a while. "What's in the bag?".

"I don't know", you looked down at the paper bag in your lap. "A guy just came and gave it to me".

"D'you wanna open it?", he looked at you with hooded eyes.

"I don't know", you took a deep breath. "I don't think I should, but they didn't tell me not to".

"Are you seriously gonna do what he says?".

"What else am I supposed to do? He's gonna fuck me up real bad if I don't", you let out a deep sigh. "I'll find a way out of it".

"What'd he threaten you with?".

Your blood ran cold at his question. You could tell how your face went pale, and your knees would have failed to keep you steady if you weren't seating.

"I'll take care of that", you said, looking at the ground. "I'll just do whatever he wants me to and stay outta trouble for as long as I can", you opened the paper bag, pulling a small disposable phone. "Huh", you put it back were it was. "What a little shit", you mumbled.

"It's a phone now, but what if it turns into somethin' else?", Frankie got up, still looking down at you. "You have to stand up to him—".

"I said I'll take care of that", you stood up to face him once again. "Whatever he does to me, it's my problem, not yours", you stared into his eyes. "I understand you're concerned, and I appreciate it, but you can't be behind my ass all day long. I'm not a kid, I can take care of myself".

Frankie stayed silent for a minute, processing your words. Then he cleared his throat and spoke again:

"Right", he nodded once. "I'm sorry, you're right".

"Right", you nodded, too. "Glad we're on the same page", you let out a heavy sigh. "Oof, sorry. I get pretty carried away when I'm angry".

"Yeah, I can see that", he chuckled. You laughed back.

"Welp", you took the paper bag with the phone and threw it into your pillowcase. "I better not use this thing before that asshole comes looking for it".

"Yeah, you better not".

You could tell he was uncomfortable now. He didn't now what else to say. You knew you usually did that to people who tended to assume you were as weak as your body showed. That was actually one of the reasons why you had learned to survive using violence most of the time, and probably the main cause of your anger problems. 

Before you could speak any apologies to him, you heard the walls and doors being hit outside, followed by cops shouting.

"Lights out! Everyone get to sleep!".

You looked at Frankie with a regretful expression. You felt bad for having caused him to be so taken aback and awkward.

"I better get goin'. Cops won't see me in my cell, might be suspicious", he said.

"Yeah", you nodded. "I'll... see you around".

"Sure", he walked out. "See ya".

Fuck, you cursed yourself.

Perfect. The first friend you made in prison ever and you screwed up your first non-violent chat. You could swear you had never felt so bad for taking your anger out on someone else.

Wait.

You had never felt bad for taking your anger out on someone else. That was actually what you were the best at.

Frankie was a good man. You somehow knew it. And you somehow knew he didn't deserve to suffer your anger problems as well. You had started off on the wrong foot, you also knew that well. Maybe the first thing you should do to try and fix it was apologizing. For treating him that bad the first times you talked, for taking your frustration out on him, for showing him the you no one like him should meet—

"Hey", a cop outside your door startled you. "Lights out and get on the goddamn bed".

"Yessir", you turned off the lights and laid on your bed as the cop closed your door and walked away.

You sighed, trying to close your eyes while thinking of what you would say to Frankie when you saw him next morning.

A beeping sound woke you up. You eyes opened in a sudden move and you looked around, confused, despaired.

Two cops were sitting beside your hospital bed, not seeming to have noticed you awake. 

Suddenly, everything came back and your memories hit you like a truck.

Your unsteady and heavy breathing alerted the cops. They both stood up and got on both sides of your bed. You tried to get up, a stinging pain in your stomach keeping you laid down. You lifted the hem of your shirt to see it covered by a large gauze, a little bloodied.

Your mind was dizzy as the cops told you about your current medical condition, and about the twenty-five years you were going to spend in prison for murder and trying to commit suicide afterwards.

At least you had gotten rid of your worst nightmare.

"Hey", you sat next to Frankie in the dining room. He smiled at you.

"Hey", he made room for you to sit more comfortably. "You get some sleep?".

"Yeah", you forced a smile. "Kinda", you cleared your throat. "I, uh... Sorry for how I acted yesterday. I didn't have the right to talk to you like that".

"It's fine. I'm like that sometimes, too", he shrugged it off. 

"No, I mean it. I shouldn't have—".

"Hey. It's okay, really", he stared into your eyes. "I understand you have... difficulties managin' your feelings, and it's alright", you saw the beginning of a smirk forming on his lips. "I've seen more o' those around here and they don't deal with it as well as you do".

His chuckle made you laugh back.

"Whatever, old man".

You spent the day talking to Frankie, walking around with him, getting to know him. Turns out you were right: he was a good man. And maybe he was a bit too sweet to be in a place like a prison, but he seemed to be doing well. You somehow knew he wouldn't have trouble if he suddenly got into a fight. 

The next few weeks went just like that. You stuck to Frankie, and Frankie stuck to you. You found in him the first person to be close to you in a long time. You found a friend in him. He didn't judge you, didn't treat you like the rest of people in you life had. It's not like he knew either, but you really didn't need him to know. There were already enough people in that prison that knew. 

Perhaps too many, you thought one of the times you thought about telling Frankie.

So you just accepted the fact that he would probably be your only friend in that prison, and maybe for the rest of your life. Maybe you didn't even have to tell him about—

"Well well well", a pair of hands fell on your shoulders as you picked up your freshly washed clothes. "Look who's alone today, huh?".

"The fuck do you want?", you turned around. There was that asshole again.

"You seem to be nice friends with that cap guy, huh?", he gave you a sarcastic smile. "What did you tell him 'bout us?", his expression shifted very quickly to one of pure anger.

"I didn't tell hi—".

"Bullshit!", he grabbed you by the neck of your shirt and pushed you against the wall. "What did you tell him? You asked for help, huh? Like the pretty little bi—".

You punched him right on the face before he even had the chance of finishing the sentence. He let you go and pulled away to recover, touching his now bloodied nose. The men behind him took a step forward, but he signaled them to stay back. And he just laughed.

"I. Told him. Nothing", you repeated. The guy in front of you sniffed and chuckled again.

"Wow", he stood up. "You have guts, gotta admit it", he fixed his nose. "Maybe I did cross a line there. I'm sorry", he shrugged. "Be careful, though. Next time, my dogs won't be as merciful", he looked back at them and nodded. Then he approached you. "You better not tell that fucker anything of our agreement. Wouldn't want the whole prison —including him— knowing what you really are, huh?".

You didn't say a word, but your silence was enough answer for him.

"Good", he cleaned the blood off his nose. "See ya around, little one".

Once again, he walked away.

Part of you felt relieved because you hadn't gotten yourself nor Frankie into trouble. Part of you still cursed yourself for being so fucked up.

That is how you survived your first year in that prison: doing favors to those pieces of shit and sticking to Frankie. You had learned a lot about him —what he used to do before ending up in prison, how he got there, the reason why he didn't get any visits...

You also told him all of that. What you used to do before ending up in prison, the reason why you didn't get any visits... You might have lied a bit when you told him how you got there, but he seemed not to notice —or at least not to mind that you did. Maybe he wanted to give you some space, and he understood that your situation was complicated. Whatever it was, you thanked him in your mind for not asking any more questions about it.

You became closer to him that you ever planned on. He talked to you every day, seemed to be the only one to care about you in that shitty place, made sure you were doing okay even with the assholes behind you. He even seemed not to want to let you go too far away from him, except when necessary. And even if you hated to admit it, being around him —or well, having him around you— made you feel safer than if you were by yourself. You and him both knew you weren't with him for protection —you could take care of that yourself. But he still made you feel protected, but not weak. And you didn't want to admit it, but you knew you had felt that before.

And it really, really scared you.

Of course, you kept having your disagreements with the group. Many disagreements. But you managed to keep it cool so that they would leave you and Frankie alone, which they surprisingly did. And you didn't get caught by the cops around either, which was also a surprise, but you wouldn't complain. Not when you had managed to keep you and Frankie out of trouble.

Yep, I've fallen so hard, you said to yourself one day. You were scared to admit it, but you weren't doing to lie to yourself about something you already knew.

"Well, hello", you turned around to see him standing behind you on the shower stall, scanning you up and down. You quickly wrapped your towel around your body and started getting dressed, trying to let him see as little as possible.

"What do you want?", you made sure to sound upset this time.

"You got what I was waiting for?", he sat at the bench outside the showers. You grabbed a small bag with herb from inside your pants and tossed it at him. He put it in his pocket. "Good".

He stood there, watching you, but he didn't say anything else. You frowned, trying to decrypt his expression. It wasn't the one he usually had. He seemed to be eyeing you with pity, but had at the same time he had a knowing look.

"Want anything else?", you crossed your arms and leaned on the lockers. He kept his pitiful, knowing look displayed on his eyes.

"Yeah", he looked down for a moment. "I wanted to talk to you about something. It's not about me this time, promise", he moved to the side of the bench and patted the spot next to him so you would sit. You reluctantly did. "You see...", he cleared his throat. "There's one of my dogs that... Well, actually a couple of 'em... that know about your... physical condition", he stared into his eyes.

Your heart started beating quickly, anger cursing through your veins.

"Some of them have been in here for a quite some time now, and... Well, they haven't had fun in a while, and since you're doing me some favors, I thought you wouldn't have trouble doing some to the—".

Your fist crashed against his face, this time harder than the last time you had punched him. Your other fist did, too. One, two, three, four times, you lost count.

"You think I'm some slut you can sell?! Huh?! That's what you like?! Fucking little boys like me?!", you spat on his face, hitting it again and again. "You fucking pervert, son of a bitch, piece of—!".

Now it was his fist what impacted on your face.

You fell to the floor with a heavy thud. He got on top of you, just like you had done with him, and started punching your face again and again and again.

Eventually, you lost conscience of your surroundings. Probably one of his blows hit you somewhere in the brain and left you dizzy. You could just feel more pain in your face and head, even though you couldn't even lift your arms or legs to try and defend yourself. The only thing you got to hear before you fell completely unconscious was how someone pulled him away from you and grabbed you to take you somewhere.

Frankie got there just in time before he punched all the teeth out of your mouth. He pulled him back and hit his head against one of the lockers, leaving him unconscious as well. Then he grabbed you and took you to the infirmary.

He was in his cell with his cellmate —who he usually didn't pay much attention to— when some guy came to tell them some shit about you. 

The truth about you.

Frankie didn't want to believe it at first. He couldn't. But the more he thought about it, more sense it made to him. Aside from your short frame and your beautiful little face —focus, Frankie, this ain't about that—, your explosive personality and your obsession over you being too weak or small kind of gave it away. It actually made sense. It was true.

He went that same day —after the night of your encounter with that fucker— to check on you to the infirmary. He wanted to know how were you doing, and he wanted to hear from you the truth of all the scene those guys were making over you. He was told you weren't conscious yet, but he stayed nonetheless —grabbed a chair and sat beside your bed.

He had been watching you ever since you got in that prison. And when the group got inside your cell that day, his suspicions about you were confirmed. You were exactly what they needed. Why would a little man like you make the cops think you were dangerous? Simple, you weren't. That's why they picked you out of everyone.

You were right thinking Frankie wanted to protect you from them. Not because you were small —he was sure you could defend yourself just right— but because he needed to, because his heart told him it was the right thing to do. That's why he insisted on approaching you as well.

He knew you were going to be close friends the moment you apologized for talking to him in such a rude way. And he knew he liked you too much for his own good. But honestly, he didn't care. The need to protect you made him not care at all. It actually just made him embrace his feelings more. It never really bothered him to be attracted to someone. He knew he was a bit of a lovestruck guy, and whenever he knew he liked someone he didn't hesitate to admit it —unlike you. 

He told you what he used to do before ending up in prison, what he did to end up in there, the reason why he didn't get any visits... He wouldn't usually tell someone that, but it was different with you. He had the feeling that you understood him, that you could empathize with him and wouldn't judge him for just anything. On the other hand, he knew you were lying to him about why you ended up in prison and why you didn't really have any friends —in or out. But he knew it wasn't easy for you —he had already seen how difficult it was for you to keep your feelings controlled, so he didn't want to push things unnecessarily further. He wanted to give you your space, since he knew he had already kind of taken that from you the moment he insisted on continuing to talk with you.

Or at least he wanted to, until he saw that asshole beating the shit out of you in the shower stalls.

Frankie got there just in time before he punched all the teeth out of your mouth. He pulled him back and hit his head against one of the lockers, leaving him unconscious as well. Then he grabbed you and took you to the infirmary. He stayed there long enough to hear them say you were going to take some time until you were fully recovered, and that you would probably be unconscious for a couple days. He also heard them mention the other guy was better than you, that his time in bed would be briefer than yours.

A cop came to them both and asked them about what had happened. Frankie could only say that he had seen that asshole already beating you when he arrived. The cop could only say he would have to do extra work for a week as a punishment for leaving the other guy unconscious, but at least he understood Frankie just wanted to protect you.

"You did good", he said to him.

Then he went to talk to the other guy. And Frankie could only fist his hands and hope no to break anything.

"I was asking him to help me with something in the shower and he just started punching me!", was what he said.

"What about the wounds on his face?".

"Well, I had to protect myself!".

"Sure", the cop wrote something on a paper, then stood up. "As soon as you're out of bed, you're being transferred to the next block".

A smile formed on Frankie's lips as the guy shouted complaints at the cop. Still, he knew you weren't safe. Not yet. Not even with him away. And he knew his dogs were everywhere —this block, the next, the prison some kilometers away from that one...

But he would still try to keep you out of danger.

The next day, he was in his cell with his cellmate—who he usually didn't pay much attention to— when some guy came to tell them some shit about you. 

The truth about you.

Frankie didn't want to believe it at first. He couldn't. But the more he thought about it, more sense it made to him. Aside from your short frame and your beautiful little face —focus, Frankie, this ain't about that—, your explosive personality and your obsession over you being too weak or small kind of gave it away. It actually made sense. It was true.

He went that same day —after the night of your encounter with that fucker— to check on you to the infirmary. He wanted to know how were you doing, and he wanted to hear from you the truth of all the scene those guys were making over you. He was told you weren't conscious yet, but he stayed nonetheless —grabbed a chair and sat beside your bed.

He grabbed your hand softly in his, examining your broken knuckles and bloodied skin. He should have known better than to leave you alone like that in the shower stalls. He should have been with you. He should have protected you, like he had told himself he would. 

"I'm sorry", he whispered.

Distant voices woke you up. A female one and two males. You couldn't make out what they were saying, but you didn't need to. You remembered everything pretty well.

You tried to stretch yourself, despite the way your face was hurting terribly. Still, you couldn't move one of your arms. Your hand was being held by another.

You opened your eyes and saw Frankie sitting beside you, his hand holding yours even with his eyes closed. As soon as he felt you move, he opened them and sat up, staring into your eyes.

"Oh god", he breathed out. A smile played on his lips as he examined you. "You okay?".

His question made you laugh.

"Well, I've been better", you smiled at him. "But I'll survive", you looked around. "How long have I been...?".

"Four days. Well, three and a half", he swiped his thumb over the back of your hand, you figured involuntarily. "They've been taking good care of you".

"I bet...", you looked down at his hand on yours. Frankie pulled away as soon as he saw you do it.

"Sorry—".

"No, it's okay", you were the one to grab his hand this time. "I don't mind...", you whispered that last part. Frankie tried to hold back his own smile. Then something he remembered made it go away as soon as it had come. "What?", you stared into his eyes. He kept swiping his thumb small soothing circles on the back of your hand.

"Will you tell me—", he paused to breathe; "What's the deal with you?".

"What do you mean—".

"I know you lied to me, Lost", he tried to keep it cool, but his eyes gave away how mad he was at you for not having told him the truth and having gotten in so much trouble because of it. "I... I already know... a bit of it, but—".

You turned around to try and find the asshole that had shattered your face, but he was nowhere to be seen.

"They moved him a block away from here", he answered even before you could ask. "He still had the chance to spread the rumor, though". 

"Shit", you whispered to yourself. You looked down, biting your downer lip and trying to stop your own tears from coming out, trying to ignore the stinging pain in your face.

"Hey", he grabbed your chin softly, careful not to hurt you more than you already were, and made you look at him. "Tell me what's wrong", he spoke slowly. "Whatever it is, I don't care. It'll still be you no matter what", he caught a tear halfway down your face, his skin grazing lightly against yours. You took a deep breath.

"A... couple years ago... I had someone really close to me", you sniffed. "I... He got me... pregnant... And...", you dried off your tears. "I didn't want... I couldn't..." you took a shaky deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "He also tried to... run away...", you tried to swallow the lump in your throat. "He was into drugs... and was told to move... Without telling me...", you sighed in an attempt to ignore the way your breathing was starting to get heavy and your chest was starting to hurt. "I couldn't take it anymore", you sniffled again and looked away from Frankie, unable to maintain your eyes on his piercing look. "I shot him. And...", you lifted your shirt just enough to reveal a big scar that went across your stomach. "I shot the baby, too", your voice broke.

"Oh, Lost", he reached out to grab and hug you. "I'm so sorry", he rubbed your back, trying to calm you down a little. You held tight onto him, squeezing him as close to you as you could.

He kept you in his arms for a while as you cried out your grief. Everything made more sense after you told him the truth. He finally felt like he understood you, really understood you and your feelings. And he finally felt like his feelings were resolved, just like yours.

He had to leave when some cops came to interrogate you about what had happened in the shower stalls a few days ago, but he promised to come back to see you that night. In the meantime, you answered the cops' questions and tried to rest as well as your pain allowed you to.

You got out of bed a week after that. The first thing you did was hug Frankie, since he was waiting outside the infirmary. He took you to your cell, staying by your side and not walking more than two steps away from you. Everyone was looking at you either with a weirded out expression or with hungry eyes. As soon as you noticed, you got even closer to Frankie.

That was the moment you gave up on trying not to look small or weak. Every single man on that prison was now trying to fuck you or fuck you up. Damn, you had never felt so vulnerable.

Good thing I have my brick wall over here, you thought.

Frankie could see the looks the other inmates gave you, and the ones you gave them. If he felt like he had to protect you before, now he felt even more responsible —especially since he had let that motherfucker beat you like that. He felt guilty, and even though you tried to tell him it wasn't his fault he couldn't get that thought out of his mind.

"Look at me", you grabbed his jaw, making him look at you, just like he had down a week before when you were still in that bed in the infirmary —though this time you were in your bed. "It wasn't your fault. I told you it was my problem and that I'd deal with it, and so I did".

"I know", he stared into your eyes. "But if I had done something, if I had gone talk to him or—".

"You couldn't, Frankie", you tightened your grip on his jaw. "Look, he had threatened to tell everyone if he found out I told you anything. It would've happened sooner or later, I just exploded when he asked me to do that with he and his men", you let go of him. "Think about it this way —if you hadn't come just in time to stop him from beating me to death, I wouldn't be here right now", you patted his thigh. "So you saved me anyway. And I also got you to keep me away from those creeps", you both laughed at that.

"I guess you're right", he sighed. "Still sorry".

"Didn't I just tell you not to be?", you crossed your arms and stared into his eyes with a frown. He couldn't help the smile that crept on his lips.

"But I still am", he crossed his arms as well. "What, am I not allowed to be?".

"Not if I tell you not to be".

"Ooh, getting bossy", he chuckled. "I like that".

"Okay, now you're acting like one of those freaks out there".

"Come on, y'know I'm not like—".

"Shut up, old man".

You grabbed his face and pulled him in for a kiss. A slow, passionate, nice kiss. Frankie stayed still for a moment before replying with just as much passion. You then pulled away to look into his eyes. You were both smiling.

"Wow", he whispered. "Didn't think you'd take the lead".

"Well, someone had to, and you didn't seem to be going to, so...", you grabbed his hand. "I couldn't bear the sexual tension anymore".

"Oh, sexual tension?", he rolled on top of you. "We can fix that...".

"No! Gross! Get away!", you laughed and pulled him off of you.

"Why?" he approached again, leaning down to leave a trail of small kisses down your neck. "I wanna...".

"Frankie, no", you pulled him off again, this time with a serious look on your face. Frankie's smirk was immediately deleted when he saw you, and seemed to be asking for an explanation. "I... I can't", you looked down. "Not like this, I'm... not ready", you cleared your throat before looking back up at him.

"M'kay", he grabbed your hand once more. "We won't do anythin' you don't wanna".

You smiled at him, thankful. He understood that you needed space and you weren't ready yet to show him that part of you. And he would respect you and your decision not to. The last thing he wanted was to make you uncomfortable, make you push him away from you. So he put it back in his pants and gave you a comforting smile.

He stuck with you all the time, by your side, not daring to leave you alone. Whenever some guy would look at you with a weird face, he gave him a warning look —or push him away from you both. He didn't let anyone other than the cops get close to you, which you thanked him for in multiple occasions. For once in a long, long time, you weren't afraid of being too small or weak. You weren't worried about your looks anymore. You weren't worried about anything with Frankie beside you. He was your only reason to want to keep going despite being in a place such as that damned prison. The only reason why you wanted to keep going at all.

The only reason why you preferred spending twenty years in prison before being back out in that shitty world.

[justallihere]

Am I the only one who thonks violet COULD posibly be more upset about the war on dark weilders and Navarre's cold shoulder than it being kept secret while she is ar risk of being tortured by the school.

I know she has all the right to be upset if just have a weak stomach for Violet stating angry at either Xeaden or Brennan! I just want violet to enjoy herself a cuddle puddle with the people who love her!!

Tha k you for this story it has been amazing and I am so excited for every chapter !!

Last side note : I think k it was a powerful shift to have violet go through her first year completely alone. And I love that effect on the character. Again thank you for this story.!!

Oh and last last question. What was Xadens mental ideal scenario , he wpuld have had to tell her for her to be a weapon. Or if he just wanted a strategic wife Cat would have been that. If his dream plan was for Violet to just be a nice pretty wife would he have ever told her ? Or would he have let her live / posibly get pregnant being a good queen, with out knowing that Venin were not just real but coming for them ?

One thing about Violet Sorrengail is that she is equal opportunity when it comes to spreading her anger. She’s mad at everyone about everything. We don’t have to just pick one. She is, however, prioritizing what confrontation to have first and which questions she wants answered the most. Obviously, since she can’t really go demanding to King Tauri what the fuck does he think he’s doing, confronting Xaden wins.

As logical as she tries to be, though, there is still part of this that’s an emotional reaction. She’s not just shocked and angry, she’s hurt and betrayed—not just by Xaden and Brennan and Liam, but she’s upset with herself too for falling into the trap, so to speak, and letting herself trust and like Xaden despite the fact that she feels like she should’ve known better. Once she gets over that part of it, yeah, she’s going to be the most angry at Navarre for their entire handling of the venin situation, fuck them for letting so many people die for their cowardice, but we gotta go through that initial gut reaction of “how did I let myself get into this situation and trust these people I knew better than to trust”

Xaden never genuinely thought he could get away with not telling Violet forever—he just hoped he had more time. He didn’t intend for her to be defenseless (see: him having her train with Felix and giving her more knowledge and power through the runes), at first it was “I don’t trust you to not go running to your mom and get my people killed” and then it was “I don’t trust you to not go running to your mom and get yourself killed” so he thought he was doing the right thing🤷🏻‍♀️ His ideal scenario would be Violet permanently far away from Basgiath and also any sharp objects when he finally told her the truth

Thank you for the questions and for reading!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

[goldeneyedgirl]

I feel the NEED to talk about how much Deaf Mary Alice means to me because this story doesn't get enough love??? I have so many questions and thoughts and headcanons (headcanon over the fic yes because I can't help myself) Like.......Jasper just created a language to communicate with her?? Try to tell me this isn't the epitome of romanticism. I would very much like to know how were the first days he spent with her in South, the ideia that he let her get so close to him makes me so 😭💝🥰😫 (also this is very funny in my mind. I supposed she didn't know how to read back then so the communication had to be a challenge, especially if the only thing Jasper was used to teach people was murder)

Anon, I am SO happy and excited that you love Deaf Mary-Alice; I have fun writing a version of Mary-Alice that isn't as depressed and miserable. This version of Mary-Alice definitely tries to outrun her trauma and unhappiness and focus on the good.

I've only got notes for their first meeting (Mary-Alice is very much the 'lost kitten' that kind of keeps going to find Jasper over and over again. And all the other soldiers are bewildered by her, because the Major is *terrifying* and they wouldn't even make eye contact with him if they had a choice) because I keep changing my mind. I can't decide if Jasper did try to discipline Mary-Alice like the other newborns, or if he's always a little bit gentle with her.

Anon, I will cheerfully answer any questions about this verse, and squeal over your headcanons. I am always over the moon when people enjoy my weird little Jalice takes.

I've got a little snippet of some of Alice's feelings below, I hope you enjoy it!

deaf mary-alice.

Sometimes, it’s hard. Especially with the Cullens. She’s never really been bothered by the silence, especially with Jasper. It’s never about living in a quiet world - she doesn't remember any different.

It’s always been about not being alone.

But when her words run out, when she doesn’t know how to say what she needs to, the quiet presses down on her. How does she explain everything she needs Jasper to know? That all of the years, all of the darkness and rage and violence that she lived through, are still there - she just chooses to let it go? That she really does understand that she’s the weak-link, the canary in the coal mine, the thing that never should have survived? Jasper left her behind because it was a miracle she had survived her newborn year, let alone the ones that followed - at least he knew that she was surviving in the South. He had no idea if she'd last a day up North.

(That for Maria’s rage and resentment of Jasper’s defection, Alice lived because of the lingering affection and appreciation Maria held for the Major. That if she’d been the companion of any of the other soldiers, she would have been destroyed out of spite. Or maybe cast out and left to die trying to go north. However it might have happened, she wouldn’t be here if Maria hadn’t been truly fond of Jasper in the end.)

Monterrey is a time capsule, and she feels adrift and unanchored, and she’s really not sure of what can fix her. Jasper's grasp upon her doesn’t feel like enough most of the time, like something terrible is going to pull her from his grasp and this possible life will be lost to her.

She’s terrified he’s going to be the one to let go. That for all that she loves him and that he cares for her, it’s not going to be enough. Jasper will heal and want someone he can speak to, who can talk back; a girl who can fucking say “I love you” out loud. Who doesn’t get frustrated and bewildered when their words run out, when she has to take an extra beat to lip-read and decipher which language is being spoken. A girl who doesn’t need a buffer against the world to survive.

That's Mary-Alice’s biggest fear. That in the real world, the Cullen world, she’s not going to be enough for Jasper. That proximity had turned him in her direction, and now she was just faulty stock. She sure as hell doesn’t fit in with the Cullens - she doesn’t know how to be so neat and clean and calm. She doesn’t have the faintest idea how to be more human than she is. She can't even speak their version of sign language right.

But those are her problems. The ones she doesn’t really like to think about unless Jasper’s at school because he always knows how she feels. It’s only when she’s alone that she lets it all out, that crushing terror that she’s never going to be quite good enough.

(Maria wasn’t surprised when she was found in the wreckage of one of her last battles, leg torn off at the hip. Alice had still killed her opponent. But she knows there was a second that Maria considered just leaving her on the field to perish when scouts found her. Maybe even just douse and burn her; Alice had seen Maria do that before. The terror and determination had sat entirely in her throat. Her visions told her this could go either way, and she got to live.)

And yet, she’s still… hopeful. She might be terrified that Jasper is going to be the one to let go, but she’s clinging tightly to him. The room next to his becomes hers, and Jasper is the one that helps her paint it. It takes a day, as she painstakingly hand-paints mock-wallpaper; Jasper daubs her nose with paint, and she retaliates with a swipe of paint across his face. He laughs and kisses her, tracing the words they have for love down her spine. Later, she finds a heart painted on the wall near the window sill with ‘M-A & J.W.’ written on it, and that warms her right down to her toes.

(When she insists on painting all her furniture by hand, Jasper is the one that takes each piece apart for her; he sits with her as she works, a book in one hand, and the other locked in idle conversation about everything and nothing. He admires her work when she’s done, and she feels bashful, not having the words to explain that she wouldn’t bother with any of this if it was just her. This was her trying to build a ‘them’, trying to turn her room into theirs. She can’t offer him much, especially when it comes to tangible things, but she can offer him this.)

Edward tries to speak with her sometimes. He struggles with reading her mind; she thinks in the signs she and Jasper made together, in Civil War-era Spanish read from lips. He struggles even more to speak with her - he speaks text-book perfect American Sign Language, and flawless Spanish, and she speaks neither. Alice is also not entirely literate in either language, so passing notes is out. It’s messy. But he tries, and she’s grateful for the effort, she just wishes Edward wouldn't weaponize her deafness when she’s upset him. She wishes he would translate so she could be friends with Bella, instead of keeping them apart to protect the human girl. She very much wishes he wouldn’t try and correct her so often.

And when he tries to talk about Jasper, about the toxic thoughts that trickle around in her mind, and his efforts come across stunted and insincere.

(It’s easier to believe Edward’s stilted reassurances that Jasper loves her when she realizes that Jasper walks into the house and beelines to her, insisting upon a kiss before anything else. She obliges, and his greetings are hurried and disjointed as he pulls her close. Sometimes those greetings end in shedding clothing, his hands grasping and stroking bare skin; counting scars, tracing the seams on her skin. Other times, he gathers her up and tells her about his day, asks about hers. He’s gotten back into his old habit of signing all his conversations, even if she’s not in the room; the same way he speaks as he talks to her, a rumbling vibration that is uniquely him.)

[quibbs126]

Oh yeah, so does anyone remember that one Professor Layton OC I made back during my Layton phase?

Not Eileen, I’m talking about this guy here. The character who was unnamed but was part of an idea I had for a Layton story (and also an ex of Descole’s)

Well, I actually named him ages ago, as well as gave him a bit more stuff (not a lot, just a bit), and about 2 hours ago I just randomly decided to draw/redesign him again. For no particular reason, I just did it

If I’m being honest, I don’t think the redesign turned out half bad. I didn’t do much, just changed up his hair and outfit a little, but I think it works. Ironically I was using Ace Attorney characters as more of my reference here than Layton. Maybe not the best but it works

Also I know his cane arm looks weird, but shh

I wrote most of the stuff about him up there, but his name is now Claude di Adone, for reasons I don’t remember. I do remember where Claude came from though, it was @notllorstel’s Twisted Fates AU Descole that was Layton. And also that his name was supposed to sound both vaguely French and Italian

As I recall, the hypothetical plot centers a good deal on parts of Descole’s past (though not a lot on Descole’s character development), where Layton and co come to this town where at least in public, everyone dresses similar to Descole. Not necessarily because of him, but rather because it was based on the bauta masks and the fact that apparently people in Venice once commonly wore these outfits and that sounded cool

Actually I think I remember the name of the story now, I believe it was City of Masks or something like that

Edit: I found the original post, it was Town of Masks

Anyways, Claude was the one who called Layton here, as he wanted him to solve some mystery going around the town that I never really figured out, and had done so after learning of his reputation

However, there’s more to Claude as he actually once knew Desmond Sycamore when they were younger. The image says “friend” because they weren’t just friends, they were actually dating, but Claude might not make that fully known. There are hints prior to this revelation that Claude knows a bit more than he should about Layton from the papers, or at least on a level that he shouldn’t for a complete stranger, like trying to call Layton by his first name. This is because Claude has been fully aware of the Hershel twist for years as this was before Desmond got super secretive about his former life and considered Claude someone he could trust. So from Claude’s perspective he’s meeting the famed younger brother of an old friend/ex of his that he’s never fully gotten over his feelings for, and he occasionally forgets that Layton probably doesn’t know that

But not only does Claude have a past with Desmond/Descole, but Descole himself happens to be in the town as well, albeit with a bout of amnesia. Note that this is supposed to take place sometime after the prequels. Claude is well aware of this, and this is the second secret reason he called Layton, as he knows Layton has a past with both Desmond and Descole, and hopes that Layton will be able to jog his memory, especially as Claude himself has been struggling with that due to the large gap in time from when they last met

Also, there’s the matter of his cane. Originally I said that he used one due to an injury in the past, but now I’ve decided he’s just always had weak legs, and has been using a cane pretty much his whole life. His cane does still secretly have a sword though

Claude is a nice guy, and can be rather generous, such as letting Layton and his friends stay in his house for their time here, since he’s rich with a big house and lives alone aside from some servants, so there’s plenty of room, and he does ultimately have good intentions, but he can also be shady as fuck sometimes and you probably don’t know him as well as you think

And yeah, I just felt like sharing that. Don’t know if anyone cares but I did

[rockbottomwithashovel]

Tw suicide

Hey guys. I'm just posting this to say why... And to say I'm sorry. I don't know what to say, I suck at goodbyes. I just don't think I can do this anymore. It's like the universe is giving me more reasons to die each day.

I never wanted it to be this way. I started to think I could actually recover, live a long and happy life. But that moment was so short. I just can't do it.

I haven't been able to be happy for more than a minute since I was 10. I was just a child, and I had already gone through so much. But it was only just starting.

When I was 7 or 8 I was sexually assaulted. It was around this time that I started to more or less live on pot noodles as I wasn't allowed to make anything, but my mum mentally couldn't either.

When I was 10-13 I was emotionally and mentally abused. I was bullied for years, they made me do things and if I didn't I'd be the one with the bruise. The guilt eats me every day. There are rooms and memories from that time and school that don't make sense and I can't remember. I don't know why. The bullying even came from teachers. This was a private Christian school.

From when I was 10 I had to spend most excursions at home as we nearly lost the house, and I had to miss days of school to stay home and look after my mum, who was suffering from depression and needed support. This was when the household chores all fell on to me and my twin.

When I was 13 my mum tested me against my consent for aspergers syndrome (now called ASD). It came back positive. She told me when I didn't want to know. This caused a chaotic and unstable household. I was suffering ptsd that I didn't understand. My parents made me feel crazy. I was running away and coming back, missing school, not sleeping. Asking for affection but only getting attention if I was a problem. There was so much screaming and fighting and I was all alone, no friends, no family helping me through, even my twin was against me.

When I was 15 I told my best friend of 10 years that I have ASD. She never spoke to me since.

When I was 16 I was groomed by a man online, leading to me seeking out more aggressive and manipulative people online to make me feel good about myself. The shame lasted longer than anything else. Then the pandemic hit. My friend tried to kill herself. She left most people notes... Not me. She doesn't really speak to me now. I don't know what I did wrong.

By 18, I had tried to kill myself more times than I could count, never getting far (I was only 13 when I first attempted).But things started to look up. I had survived school.

Now, at 19, I've been to aa, the mental ward twice in one year for suicide attempts, I have depression, anxiety, ptsd, insomnia, atypical anorexia, suicidal thoughts, I self harm so much I could never wear short sleeves again. And I'm having psychotic episodes. I don't know what it is, I'm scared to be diagnosed, but my therapist has suggested a few things. As someone (if you've looked closely at my blog, you'll know who) once said, it's a living, breathing nightmare.

Maybe I am a coward. Maybe it's just too much and I'm too weak. But it hurts so much or I can't feel at all. I can't keep doing this.

People say they love me, that I'm important or they'd miss me. But I just don't know if I can believe that. People call me pretty but the mirror makes me want to hurt myself. I'm ugly. Unlovable. I'm just a burden and a waste of space. I'm so sorry if I am important to you. I don't want to traumatize anyone or hurt anyone but this just hurts so fucking much I don't know how much longer I can be strong. Maybe I'm just not meant for this.

I need you all to know I love you. You mean so much to me. I'm so fucking sorry if I hurt you. I'm so sorry. If you're struggling, please get help. You deserve happiness, hope, love. I believe in you. It will get better. If you see someone struggling, please look after them, even just a stranger on the train with leaking eyeliner. Just ask if they're OK. You could save their life.

I've got pierce the veil on the 27th. I'll do it after that. I'm not sure if I can hold on that long though. I'm so sorry for any pain I'm causing. I hope you're all OK <333

Love,

Rock

[osovereign]

☆ — iniquitousideals

“So, you’ve finally decided to come crawling back to me,” Mithos advances toward Kratos slowly and -- given some time -- begins to circle him as a predator would its prey. Well, that wasn’t far off from the truth, was it? He despised humans, and the more Kratos was to hurt him, the closer he was to being thrown in with the lot of them. To never being trusted. To being despised. Once that was done, there was no going back. It’s odd, as much as it had been claimed that he hated Kratos all this time, it still wasn’t the truth. He still held on to the tiniest shred of hope. One day, Kratos would believe in him. One day, he would stay. He would be his teacher again. He would be his father. He would believe in him. “what happened this time? Did you not find what you were looking for? I’m beginning to think you enjoy toying with me, Kratos.”

❝ mithos i  ,   ❜ he needs to micromanage his words, kratos knew the consequences of having a tongue with to much bark and bite. the mannerisms of his first greatest delight, of his first greatest pride  and failure! circled him as a hunter did prey, as the strong did the weak. if tasked kratos could never stop writing aselia’s greatest epic about how its greatest savior became its villain, of how the supposed most holy city was filled with wild wicked creatures who resembled more daemon than human  he most of all. those whom lied as if it was a second skin upon their lips, a natural occurrence as telling the truth was to others.

even this age old man was akin to selling falsehoods as absolutes. talk about yourself, mask it as another. grasp death inside the grave you dug on-top your living corpse and watch as you fall deeper into your own darkness.  mentally, physically, emotionally, and perhaps some other fourth thing the half-elf kratos met, befriended, and cherished from four thousand years ago still lived buried underneath an aeons worth of distaste and hatred. lying had gotten him nowhere though. he needed to try a new approach, he wanted to do things differently this time. maybe... just maybe the wrongs of yesterday could be corrected and his makeshift found family could coexist with his blood. he needed it, desired it. craved it.  

his strides ever confident, ever intimidating, ever fluid. he drops to his knees not far off from the blond man and absentmindedly fiddles with the sheath of his sword. physically, kratos made himself smaller but his spirit was that of a warrior, of a hero of yore. was it crawling back if he just wanted a piece of his heart back? it was not enough to follow another’s idealism and belief’s without question. he had learned this lesson the hard way ( full forced / full fledged genocide ): was it better to deceive or be deceived? he knew the answer, it didn’t even need to leave his lips.

❛     what i seek has long been found. i am simply trying to pick up the pieces as best a mere man can..   ❜ truth. honestly. even if it killed him, even if it led to the same conclusion. kratos would not know unless he tried and fuck, did this self loathing angel want to fucking try. ❛ stars could explode, aselia could cease to exist, and i may never correct all of my mistakes--  ❜ he pauses. licking his lips, palms digging crescent indents into his fists. ❛ but you, mithos: will never be a mistake to me. my most precious student, my friend. my first son. ❜

the last words spoken on his tongue as a silent broken prayer. they’d had this talk a thousand times before. some ending in battle, all ending in seemingly betrayal. sometimes with yuan, but usually alone. if a higher being did exist and not one crafted of his own two hands then kratos had but one desire of it, one wish, one prayer: give him their happiness back.

[valencebagelbandit]

every god needs an imp chap. 3: abracadabra

notes: guess whos back! its me! my hiatus is lasting a lot longer but I had enough to put out two chapters. please enjoy sorry for taking so dreadfully long <3

summary: homelander realizes hes in for it.

Homelander had never been so offended and confused in all his years of dealing with other supes all by a goddamn magician. Heart beating hard in his chest He followed eccetrica to the bar sitting next to her not even moving his cape aside. determined not to be rejected at this point he didn’t care if she was even worth it, it was the principal alone that made his hands curl into fists. Eccentrica didn't speak simply looking ahead at her reflection in the mirror of the bar glowing eyes now fully extinguished as she took a sip of her drink. However her calm demeanor only served to piss homelander off more, He glared at her seconds away from lasering her debating on how hard it would be to cover up him just destroying the entire casino.

“Ya’ know it's kinda rude to be so disrespectful to someone like me right? I know you're not used to talking to anyone who has any actual weight in this world, I mean look around this is the thrill of most people's lives fucking slapping a button and getting drunk. I'm offering you a chance to get ahead and you're just going to throw it out on the notion that this is somehow better?” Homelander began to rant a bit only breaking to nervously laugh and shake his head as his fingertips dug into his palms. 

“I mean honestly who-” he started again but was immediately cut off.

“Will you please shut up?” Eccentrica stared at him sideways unblinking eyes staring straight at him once more, it felt like he was being judged by an owl. 

“I don’t give a single flying fuck who you are, you're really proving my point your a show dog who has nothing but over-dramatic barks. Like a husky, you're a husky all you do is complain.” she spoke completely seriously sipping her drink she still stared at him posture perfect, body completely still. This… this wasn't how she was supposed to be. In homelander’s mind, she was nothing more than a silly little magician a second-class citizen barely above the heathens she entertained, and yet she had just called him a dog. Now that was something he really didn't like…

Homelander reacted immediately, reaching over he rested his forearm on her shoulder his left hand locked around the spot right at the base of her neck that sensitive little sweet spot where he could feel her pulse pounding beneath his fingers. He could feel the veins move when he tightened his grip,  restricting blood flow, she immediately started to strain under his super strength, the reaction involuntary.

“I don't think I like you very much eccentrica, if I'm a dog that makes you absolutely nothing compared to me, tell me why I shouldn’t shove you into a box and toss you into the Atlantic to see if you can Harry Houdini your way out.” he waited for some kind of reaction from her but instead she took another sip of her soda uncaring of what he was doing focused on something else. She casually finished off the glass before finally turning back to him with a fake frown lips pouted out.

“Oh no, I'm so scared! Please don't hurt me Mr.Homelander I'll join your silly little team just don't break my poor brittle bones I'm just a pathetic little magician!” she put her other hand on her cheek eyes filling with tears as she wailed mockingly. “I-im ju- just so weak and sad!” her wailing immediately broke down into cackles.

Homelander didn't know how to even reply, he was about to snap her wrist when she calmed down. Reaching out she patted his shoulder giving one of his eagle decorations a pet before leaning in closer, “Abracadabra.” 

his mind barely processed the words before Eccentrica’s eyes lit up again with that purple glow that burned in his mind even when it dulled. As if the floor had dropped from beneath him plunging him into darkness, at first he thought she had somehow knocked him out before a single spotlight came on. Eccentrica had perched on a massive table legs swinging as she sat back observing him. various props for magic tricks were strewn about what he realized was a stage, the clever little magician had just made him disappear and reappear in an instant like a bunny in a hat. 

“I'm less of a bug and more of a stray cat thank you.” she casually commented as she disappeared only to appear behind him watching him curiously.

“That was impressive I suppose. What now are you going to saw me in half?” Homelander looked over his shoulder at Eccentrica who had her hands behind her back tapping her foot against the wood of the stage.

“Kinky, but no.” she puckered her lips smiling cheekily as she offered him one of her hands. Flipping it over a deck of cards appeared on the back of her hand, flipping her hand again she spread them out in a single flourish. “Go on, pick one.”

He sighed taking one from her, he flipped it over expecting to see a playing card but instead, it was a VIP ticket to her show that night. Looking at the back of the card again he realized she had swapped the cards in the instant that he flipped it over. 

“Very clever, anyways why would I come to your show?” his eyes flicked up to where Eccentrica had just been standing only to find her gone again.

“Because it's the last one.” her voice came from above him where she was laying on her stomach feet lazily kicking upwards as she watched him chin sitting in her hand. She sighed softly letting her arm drop off the catwalk, “I'm tired, tired of the lights and the alcohol and the drugs. You won't get that, you've been in the big leagues forever you didn’t have to beat the shit out of your teammates for ratings or get felt up by tv producers at sixteen. Besides it's so boring so boring you and all of your loser teammates.”

“What? What do you want me to say to that? Oh, I'm so sorry you had to go on TV as a kid get over it. I had to do worse to climb the ladder.” Homelander crossed his arms rolling his eyes. “Just take my offer-”

“I am. I'm leaving tomorrow I've already decided chill airbud.” she dropped down from the catwalk landing next to him teleporting at the last second to break her fall. He barely caught it but he saw a look cross her face, some somber shell-shocked hurt far too close to the ones he had seen in the mirror. He did understand to some extent but still, he suffered too. She was just so inconsistent, so goddamn startling. He couldn’t decide if he loved it or hated every bit of her.

“Just come to the show hell even bring your kid, Brian or whatever his name is.” she began to walk away hips swaying giving Homelander some highly inappropriate urges for the tone of the moment. As soon as she hit the shadow of the curtains she vanished leaving Homelander to his own devices.

thank you for reading <3

[stuckincoolsville]

7/23/24: what's my name?

i absolutely hate these things. 

intros, blogs; it's all stupid, really. it's not even worth the effort of capitalizing, let alone proper grammar. 

who's gonna read this? who's gonna care about some random weirdo teenager moving to some random weirdo town? in OHIO, of all places. the meme is writing itself and dying as we speak.

but my therapist says this will help me. somehow. he says we don't meet enough, so he has no way of knowing how i'm truly doing or feeling. starting a little blog will, supposedly, help me get my feelings out.

i feel it's just another way for him to keep tabs on me, but whatever.

don't worry, i'm not dumb enough to reveal my actual name. just call me V. 

i recently graduated from a high school in New York. yes, i lived near bodegas. yes, i'd rather attend NYU, or a CUNY, or anywhere else besides Coolsville Community College. yes, i walk wherever and whenever i fucking want. yes, i miss the bagels. and the pizza. and the water.

so, that being said, what am i doing in Coolsville, Ohio? 

moving into the house i inherited from my mom. who i have not seen since i was...twelve? yeah, about twelve. i still have this vague memory of watching her pack up her car with all her stuff. her mouth, pressed closed. how she kept refusing to look at me, at my dad. and then walking back in the rain so she can get in her car and drive out of our lives.

yeah, that's rather grim...but it's also relevant. 

surprisingly, she's not the main reason i'm in therapy at the moment. well, not because she left. children are abandoned by parents all the time. most divorces are the result of a parent walking out on a family. i'm not special because i'm another statistic.

i'm in therapy 'cause of the other thing.

anyway, the relevance of this is that i haven't seen my mom in six years. no one seemed to know where she went. it was like she literally dropped off the face of the earth. and yet, a few months ago, my dad and i got a visit from a lawyer. my mother's lawyer.

he said my mother died of a tragic...accident (spoilers: i don't think it was an accident), and that the ownership of the house she lived in recently transferred to me. a house in Coolsville, OH.

if this was last year, i would have slammed the door closed in the man's face. or had my friend Johnny do a prank call and scam the guy out of his money. or maybe had Marcy

...

i think you get the idea.

but this year...it was like the guy handed me the solution to all my problems on a silver platter. after everything that had happened this year, all i wanted was to disappear. to go to a place where no one knew my name or who i was. 

you'd think that'd be easy in New York, a city of several million people on its own. but when you've gone through what i've gone through, when your picture has been published in enough NYC newspapers or blogs or anything with readership, it becomes difficult to be invisible again. 

i had to argue about it with my dad, but it was weak on his part. i think everything was starting to strain on him too.

so with a few bags packed and a rather emotional goodbye with dad & the few friends i have left, i hopped in my car and headed for Ohio.

took me a little bit to find this place. Coolsville is pretty obscure, even by most small town standards. if you can get past the sense of dread you get from Toledo—with all its emptiness and boarded up houses & buildings—you're already on the right track. 

go past the long highway. head east, towards where the trees gather most. down that long, long road that seems to be an entrance to another realm. towards the faint sound of rushing water flowing from a place you can't see yet. and suddenly, you're there. in a town stuck in time, struggling to embrace modernity as we understand it. a place that is just outside the border of the area considered to be part of Appalachia. 

it's like i walked right into the 1960s...or maybe early '70s. every house is painted in bright colors, the grass never seems to brown; and the flowers are always in bloom. and all the people seemed to dress like they go thrifting on the regular, their clothes are so...retro? vintage? any of those words work? and they always seem to have a smile on their faces. typical welcoming committee, wholesome small town edition, i suppose.

i was a bit wary at first. still am. but it's been a couple weeks since i moved in. no one's asked the questions i've expected yet. no mob is calling for my blasphemous head. everything and everyone i speak to actually exists, which is a relief. so things are okay. 

for now.

no idea what the future holds, but i recently registered for classes at the community college here. it's much more affordable than the schools in NY, even for a newcomer like me. (guess enrollment must be pretty low over here.) no friends, but the few neighbors i've met seem friendly. there seem to still be teens my age over here, so that gives me some comfort. the house my mome left me is already paid for and has all the furniture and appliances i need. i just need to pay for utilities and maintain the house.

that's why i got the job at the bookstore. it's pretty cool, run by this weird old lady who likes to cackle and rant about the new age occult scene. says my generation doesn't know how to properly communicate with the Old Ones, and that will lead to our ultimate downfall. 

things like that. 

she has a lot of weird takes, now that i think about it, but i'm not gonna argue logic and reason with the crazy lady signing my paychecks.

not much else to say at the moment. i mean, there's more but. this was just supposed to be an intro. i don't wanna vomit out everything in my head. not yet. 

(Dr. Dimaggio, if you're seeing this, you already know. so there's really no point anyway.)

so i guess i'll be signing off. i'll update this when something happens or if there's something i wanna get off my chest.

later.

signed,

V.D.

[xxinksxx]

So I just had another epic battle with nature's version of Fuck You (a.k.a. a wasp) which had gotten into the house. I heard a random buzzing, and thought it was coming from out side, but then I decided to glance over and laid eyes on one of the universe's most evil creatures trying to break the glass so it could let all it's minions in and take over our living space.

I decided I had to quickly put an end to this before it began and crawled across the living room floor boot camp style to retrieve my weapon. Last time I tried battling one of these things with just my majestic face. Last time I failed. I wouldn't make that mistake again. Grabbing a can of icy hot (for it was metal and good for smashing like the Hulk) I ninja'd into the kitchen to face my foe. It had yet to spot me as I inched closer, but I could no longer hear it buzzing.

Half crawling onto the counter like a cat stalking it's pray, I had to sit/lay at an odd angle were I could see through the bottom of the blinds, to see if I could find this diabolical flying menace's hiding spot. And there I saw it. Resting at the top of the window, protected by the bar that held up these sun shields put in place to keep my almost vampiric red-headed, white-ass from becoming the worlds largest piece of bacon. I knew instantly I was working with a criminal master mind. Cans can't smash through bars, and if I tried pinching it between the blinds, it would escape and possibly take me down in my moment of confusion and chaotic shrill screams.

Clever, clever girl.

It was then the wasp spotted me hiding in the shadows and lunged for me. But this time, I saw it coming. This time I'm prepared. I used my can of icy hot to smash at the blinds to squish the creature of hate against the dirty glass, but the bastard was too quick and escaped my clutches, gaining access to the free air.

SHIT I MISSED. I MISSED. ABORT MISSION ABORT MISSION. EVERY MAN FOR HIMSELF. CHILDREN AND YELLOW BELLIES FIRST.

Now it was at this point I probably made some rather undignified noises as I ninja flipped off the counter and took out a few kitchen chairs in the process, but being at home alone means my animals are the only ones that heard me and therefore it didn't happen. I'll just have to pretend that vase never existed and place it in the bottom of the trash can before burying it under some trash bags. Nope this incident never happened. What antique vase that's been in the family for years? Idk what you're talking about man.

Regaining my senses, I listened closely for the sound of a dive-bombing wasp to start his attacks on me because at this point I've pissed it off and it knows I'm here. There isn't going to be much time for me left in this world because wasps know where your weak points are and they know how to smack them with their venom daggers. (Everywhere. Your weak spots are everywhere. They're fucking wasps. They eat children for breakfast and make nests out of their bones to hatch babies of their own in so they can feed them the young of other creatures. They're fucking evil. They exist in this world to spread fear and buzz with hate and kill everything in sight.) But lo what's this? I can't hear it buzzing. It's gone in stealth mode and it's going to attack me from above like every action movie ever because no body ever looks up.

I search the ceiling? Nothing. I look at my surroundings? Nothing. And then I hear it again. The diabolical buzzing from inside the window. IT FLEW BACK INSIDE?!?! WHAT GLORIOUS GIFT FROM THE GODS IS THIS SECOND CHANCE AT RETRIBUTION? I stalk up on the window again, remaining as stealthy as the Beverly Hill's Ninja, and get my can of icy hot at the ready. But once again it has gone into stealth mode or has gained the powers of invisibility because I cannot see it.

Putting my life in peril, I twist the blinds so that they crack open just enough for me to see inside. I have to find this hateful beast. I have to end it's reign of terror. Then I hear it.

*buzz buzz mother fucker*

I see it in the lower corner of the window and my reflexes kick in, smashing at it instantly, trying not to take out another flower pot in the process. The wasp falls to the window sill injured, but not dead. I smashed the can into it again. Still not dead. Again. No go. Again. Again. Again. AGAIN AGAINAGAINAGAIN. WHY WON'T IT DIE?! I wonder briefly until I realize the size of the can is just a tad bit to big to fit into the space. So grabbing something smaller, I smash it repeatedly until it no longer moves and once again win the epic wasp battles.

This battle may have been won, but there's still a war going on. But I'm finally catching up.

Win: |||

Losses: |||

[pettyeti]

vrai lore (kinda).

unscripted. this is mostly a joke, but there are some serious bits.

i will preface this by saying he changes a lot after meeting Etienne, so take this as Before Eti Era (B.E.E)

real lore page coming soon. for now take this shitpost.

Name: Asmodeus. Real name is Vrai. Do not call him by his real name otherwise he will k*ll you. Vrai does not remember his last name.

Age: OLD. Too old tbh (935 years old). Don't call him old otherwise he will k*ll you. He was 37 when he became a voidsent.

I don't know when the Flood of Darkness happened. I bend canon and say that it occured 1000~ years before canon.

Gender: Cisgender man.

Sexuality: GAY.

Personality: Very charming and suave. Will call you "my dear" and "my girl" like Howl (you know what scene I am referring to.) Makes you feel like you're the most important person in the room.

Unfortunately, this is just a front. Vrai holds no love for mortals and throws people away when they stop being interesting to him. Vrai is very selfish. Vrai does not care about you. Vrai wants you to suffer because it is interesting to him. He will just be very polite while he watches you die.

Secretly, Vrai longs for the bygone days before he became a voidsent. He misses the sun on his face. He misses the love he once felt. He misses adventuring. He looks at the heroes of other worlds who have not lost their souls to the darkness with extreme intrigue and extreme jealousy.

Vibe: The vibes that emanate from this dude are MAD rancid.

Smell: Oh he smells so good. Like a moonlit path in the forest. Like old books in a well loved library. He also has a bit of a rosy scent when you get close.

Wisdom: 100000/10. Extremely smart. He is a walking encyclopedia. Knows a bit about everything, but has special interests in astronomy, aetherology, and biology.

Job?: This binch unemployed!!

Um? Where does he live??: He has a giant castle on the Thirteenth. It's located on the northern continent so it's cold as fuck! Vrai sits on a throne usually because he is melodramatic. Much like Zero's place, Vrai's castle serves as a domain for weaker voidsent who have pledged their loyalty to him. In return for keeping his castle pretty, Vrai protects them.... kinda.

What does he do all day?: Vrai lounges in his castle and watches people on the Source using a magic mirror he crafted himself. Vrai's been watching heroes and other interesting people for centuries, occasionally going to the Source himself to spook people. When he's bored, he'll spark conflicts. Think Eris and the Trojan War.

Likes: Reading. CHAOS. Collecting books, rare crystals, and other expensive junk. Intelligent people. Wine (hates all other alcohols.) Fighting. Learning about new topics.

Dislikes: Liars. Being outsmarted. Cockroaches. Weak willed people. Being reminded that he was once mortal.

Parents: Vrai had two moms. One was a witch who had a keen interest in herbs and horticulture. The other was a shepherd who liked her solitude and lived in the mountains. They did not survive the Flood. Vrai loved them very much and had a good childhood <3

Combat: Expert caster. Uses a scythe to channel devastating black magic. The scythe isn't just for show either.

What about G*lbez?: Vrai doesn't fuck with Golbez and Golbez doesn't fuck with Vrai. It's an uneasy cold war situation going on between them because Vrai don't care Golbez's plan. He's here for a good time.

Golbez doesn't fuck with him because it would be a waste of time and resources. Golbez is stronger than Vrai and would win in a fight if it came down to it, but it wouldn't be worth it because Vrai would destroy everything Golbez has worked for before kicking the bucket. Still, Vrai let's Golbez do his thing because uhhh. He don't give a fuck. Just leave him alone and let him play with his heroes and they'll be Gucci.