#it harms u and by the end of the day you're the one who has all the upper hand just because youre so loved by them >>>

[kalims]

he's a ten but he...

premise. sometimes certain bad habits of theirs make their overall rating just a tad bit lower—besides the fact that they keep doing it.

characters. dorm leaders

content. gender neutral reader

malleus (doesn't have a sense of space)

"look beastie, that flower is a native of ours,"

"I agree mal, but I didn't think you taking up the entirety of my seat will make me see it better,"

he blinks, then shrugs.

like i said, has NO sense of space.

if an average person would make an excuse to constantly be in physical contact with who they admire, then malleus is the complete opposite. well, not entirely but he doesn't even bother to construct an explanation as to why he's literally sat over your seat when you coincidentally get put in a table together.

if you start questioning him about it the most you'll get in a very outright 'because he wanted to.' it's not even one of those sarcastic replies he's 100% serious!

cause he believes there's no use in lying about things to be honest.. to further emphasize that, if he ever acts like he does hold fondness for you that surpasses the platonic meter but doesn't mention it he probably hasn't realized yet.

if he did he'd already walk over and bluntly tell you about it.

(I wish I could be that unbothered.)

lilia thinks it's the cutest thing though. you swear you see flashes of light for a split second from the ceiling but when you look up there's only a suspicious swinging chandelier.

^ totally has his own album full of pictures.

if malleus ever discovers it he won't even be disturbed, probably would ask for a copy 💯

since human lives, and their bodies are so fragile he'd taken it upon himself to protect you from harm. even if it means trailing behind you everywhere way too close for comfort, or standing a bees wing away.

while he is respectful most of the time, he's encouraged if you don't comment. if anything, he seems pleased you dont seem to be bothered! (and it'll get harder to tell him to stop when he's so happy the more you let it happen..)

"child of man, have you slept?"

*starts leaning his body forward, to squint at your eyes.* practically right in front of your face.

"WTF."

not even a warning or anything! but atleast he's concerned?

idia (won't even show up for anything and insists a 'virtual' date is better.')

user: where tf r u??

ghoul666: WDYM? at the dorm?

user: IVE BEEN WAITING HERE FOR 20 MINUTES

unintentionally stood you up 💀

you literally have to tell him that you're waiting for him to arrive at the specified area you discussed where your date would take place but would end up vastly irritated when he questions if you guys even did.

ghoul666: we do??

user: I'm taking my minecraft bed away from urs.

ghoul666: NO PLS

ghoul666: HELLO????

next time you log in minecraft it's probably because he begged you to play, you WILL end up seeing some kind of structure that probably took days to make. that's not even the entire thing cause the inside is entirely decorated to your taste.

in short: he constructed some kind of venue for a wedding.. even changed his skin to wear a tuxedo 😭

though he has sparked your pettiness, hence the ignoring him period. even you have got to admit that it's freaking adorable...

big sign, emphasis on please: Im sorry pls put ur minecraft bed back I can't sleep w/o u and I have to wait entire days for it to turn into morning :(

with what he's built you're sure it's 65% true.

if you do end up forgiving him, few weeks later attempting to schedule another date will only end up in naught.

ghoul666: can we not go there

user: 😐

user: you are testing my patience love

ghoul666: 😓 (he is screeching about the term of endearment part btw KABSJAJSAJA ortho would enter his room very concerned.)

ghoul666: how abt

ghoul666: mimic together? call

user: sighs

user: I'm only agreeing cause I want to spend time with you

queue more screeching from his end that you're completely oblivious to.

the only screeching you're gonna hear though is when you guys do get into call as you play, and it's mainly out of terror when his soul gets sent to the void ascending when the entity pops out of a corner and starts chasing him.

"I GOT THIS. ILL CARRY U THIS IS FINE" *screams again* but really wants to impress you so he pushes through.

unsurprisingly does carry you.

asks to match avatars right after (idia love languange)

vil (frets over you way too much.)

"vil, did you see the chocolate in the freezer?"

"oh, that? I noticed that you've already gone through the ideal number of bars this week so I took it upon myself to make sure you don't go sick on me,"

"I love you but please give it back—"

"I love you too, and no."

disclaimer: he does this for your own good 😜 (average mom excuse.)

looks out for you more than he does for his own dorm residents. everyone is wondering where he ran off to after class, especially since he's the one that scheduled the pomefiore meeting every fridays!

and to think he was the one getting irritated over the more newer first years for being late..

*shows up literally half an hour in*

why you ask? you simply shouldn't have texted him about abandoning your daily walk together through the gardens in favor of catching sleep since you called in sick (you're suspicious if crewel really did go in to check for proof, and not concern.)

vil's really feeling the absolute regret of not checking his phone during classes.. well, he only saw the message which was coincidentally sent like somehow ONE minute after the lecture started and he's only seeing it 59 minutes later.

oh you poor thing!! though the lunch break is short, he has about 5 minutes for a trip to the mirror chamber..

you'd think the 'seen' icon below your message was a weird omen for something you're not sure but it must be doom cause vil is right at the front porch of your crappy dorm. at his own expense?! looking more disheveled than you've seen him before.

if a few stray hairs was disheveled at all. more importantly, he still looked drop dead gorgeous!

you probably looked quite terrible with the blanket draped around your shoulders looking like you just crawled out of your grave, because he looked absolutely mortified at your state.

"oh great sevens.." he looked like he was faint, huffing and fanning himself with his hand. "look at you, why didn't you tell me sooner, darling?"

you blink, swallowing to make your throat less dry but your voice still comes out raspy. "I did, like an hour ago—" without your invitation whatsoever, he steps in. promptly shutting the door behind him (which surprisingly still stands sturdy.)

vil takes a hold of your shoulders before reaching his hands upwards to tilt your face around. "you should have sent earlier," he says. you keep in the comment that you were sleeping during it, and you told him about it during second period so.. "your face is so pale."

you sigh.

"yeah, I just saw. I know, I look hideous right now."

vil frowns at you, stopping to angle your face at him. "don't ever say that. I always find you beautiful even if you are.." he glances at you from face to toe, then back up. "sickly."

"... I feel offended."

"hmph, shush now. let me draw you a bath then I know something that will boost your system."

after much coaxing in his end, you reluctantly take a warm bath in the hopefully hygienic bathroom. true to his word, vil did... concoct something. though it looked pretty the random steam that flew from it was really suspicious.

the residents don't dare to question, except rook of course. who already knew what transpired! :)

epel: 😃 (atleast vil wasn't around.)

"roi du poison~ tell me, tell me! is the trickster well? have you cured them with your love?"

"rook, you have 5 seconds to get out of my face."

rook giggles away.

kalim (thinks money will buy anything, including your forgiveness.)

"here!" there's a suspiciously bright smile on his face as he hands you.. some keys?

you deadpan, jingling it in your hands. it weighs heavy than the average, probably because of the fact that it's literally made of gold. "... kalim what is this?" you emit a sigh, from suspicion and concern.

"a gift!"

"wait why does it say lot 111--"

as you can already, that was an actual, literal house. which you imagine would probably be a lots more grand, and new compared to your old baby ramshackle.

but you do love it despite it's love for falling apart at the most inconvenient of times..

fighting with kalim was rare but it was hard to even argue with him because the notion of disagreements are so bizarre to him that he unintentionally doesn't treat you seriously with your concerns, accidentally downplaying them aaaand now you're upset.

after the ranting to jamil about how you must be busy with a lot, since you haven't even talked to him in the past 2 days. all it took was a side glance to his friend in denial and jamil immediately knew.

"what do you mean they're mad!? D:"

"just.. go apologize, I don't want to get caught up in this."

if his definition of an apology is buying you an entire house...

( ^ it is btw.)

kalim really doesn't mean any harm. he just really wants to sate whatever anger you held for him <- maybe he's overthinking it but it's kalim so he's 99% sure it's his fault! even though it hasn't even been confirmed from your end he'd probably accept it whole heartedly.

he wanted you to talk to him again so badly that he wouldn’t mind showering you with houses... since your living situation doesn't live up to your kindness (sorry ramshackle love u xx)

you know what. he wouldn't even notice he's the reason you're upset at first even though he's been asking around on who put you in that mood. despite himself being the perpetrator but he didn't really know that did he?

the only reason he does is because he assumed you were just because you avoided him like some sort of.. cockroach! (he dislikes those.) and he couldn't take it anymore.

was probably 1 sec away from barging into your dorm which wouldn't take a lot of effort since one ram to the door would probably break it.

bless jamil for jailing all the carpets so kalim doesn't find them.

even if said carpets fling him off when he's riding them.

"kalim, why would you buy a literal house... and you also got a rare address paid--"

"for them! ;D"

"... you do know they'd be more offended by the fact that you'd try to replace that.., ahem. dorm, right?"

"oh... should I buy them a vehicle then?"

you only promise to forgive him once he takes back the keys, and the house entirely...

(grim begged you to keep it, 'house for him apparently.')

azul (keeps trying to offer you discounts thinking it's a good excuse to have you over.)

"I assure you. you'll find no deal better than this."

"I'm not even that hungry for sea food, actually I'm craving some--"

"you're in luck then! ahem, it's 26% off due to a special event for today."

pro tip: keep insisting to eat at other places cause he's gonna keep increasing the discount by 2% until you eventually relent. once, you made him go to the point of 75% off, it's almost hilarious if not for the fact it only worked once.

now he won't go last 50!

ahem. if you look closely you can almost spot tiny cracks accumulating with each denial you respond with, and each increase of his discount. he's grown to be wary about the bullshit 'lucky' promos you just happen to stumble on.

last time you did he practically lost a week's worth of the presumed income he's predicted cause you actually went around and told your first year friends about it... who.. in turn told some, other friends of theirs about it and you could guess.

love must hurt.. and unfortunately it's his wallet wailing.

but azul is not so easily swayed by this! for you have swayed him first! *wink wonk*

but azul has another trick up his sleeve... keeping on roping jade and floyd into it; whom are far too enthusiastic cause finally— something fun to do! someone to bother! not only have you got the most stubborn octopus having frequent suspicious 'deals' but here are his equally suspicious lackeys.

who keeps.. talking about fried octopus..

yeah, you're not sure if preaching about azul’s species is the job they were assigned.

they're fairly easy to point in the right direction anyways. the tweels have always associated you with the word 'fun' so just a little, friendly suggestion from and they were off to their merry way. mortifying every single person you come across with their sudden attachment.

one of their tricks? following you around. and just somehow, every single place you enter is just mysteriously full even though you peered inside and there was like 7 tables empty. what are they hosting? ghosts? spirits?

...

they do look like they've seen some though..

jade rn: "a shame indeed, you must be hungry. why don't we escort you back to monstro lounge?" :)

long story short you can't even reply cause the sleek eel is already guiding you around by the use of his hands on your shoulders. just to make sure you don't stray away from the destination, he says.

"didn't you say that yesterday's promo was like, a one day thing?" you quirk a brow, and you almost fool yourself into thinking he flinched.

azul clears his throat. "well—today is.. the month before you've graced octavinelle with your assistance—"

he praises himself for his quick thinking.

COME ON! it doesn't matter if you're sick of eating stir fried shrimp, or the butter one, or every single dish they serve that includes shrimp! (also do not mention that you ate somewhere else before you just decide to visit his dorm because that establishment just mysteriously got filed a non-legal business report.)

then you've got floyd chasing you around with a fork. which is more terrifying because he's holding it in a notion that would seem like he'd just stab down at you when he catches up with your little goose chase.

it's just.. you're not sure if your stomach could take another bite of the poor food he stabbed into, and is now chasing you around with.

you screech. "JADE PLEASE."

the man shrugs. "it's a free taste."

"AZUL."

"... only on a condition of course."

frankly. it took all the balls he had to actually sputter out the most simplest sentence ever, cause during the time he rehearsed that in front of his mirror it just plagued him with embarrassment but he's getting desperate.

'I'd like to take you out to dinner, somewhere else of course.'

actually, maybe obliterating any possible craving for the food of his lounge just might've been part of his plans to ask you out..?

leona (prevents you from actually being productive via dragging you down to 'nap' every. single. time.)

"I will literally fail if you don't let go of me right now."

"hmph. so what? it's not like failing a grade killed anyone."

"leona just because you've lived through a lot of fails doesn't mean I have to, we're not all rich enough to not finish school."

to which he'd retaliate that all you'd need is to marry him and you'd be set for life.

there is no winning an argument with leona when it comes to his naps. if he states that you're to be next to him as he sleeps, its final. no buts, no retaliations, cause apparently they're all invalid according to him even if you drag him to court.

rhetorically of course, that if its a comical court scene his only statements are; 'well you're wrong', 'who cares', and 'i dont care'. one way or another he's still gonna win you over and now you're fit snugly in his arms, lamenting.

and if crowley chastises you for not doing the errands (via leona's common interference.) the only thing you need to honestly do is to complain to leona about it and suddenly crowley has the kindness to forgive you for your 'laziness' then says something about enjoying your time together?

leona's work no doubt.

you suppose he does has its perks. even if most of it isn't exactly ideal.

if you're being smart then you should give him an ultimatum or something, or bribe him. but... that really has no guarantee to work either cause you're ending up defeated, or just defeated and flustered since he's somehow unconsciously flirty.

at the end of the day you can't really hate him cause the following day you find out he sent an already sleep deprived ruggie to do your work. 'so you can shut your fussing up and let me enjoy you.' he says, and you quote.

it goes something like;

"if i finish my work i'll stick by you all day."

a stready flow of confidence keeps your voice firm as you glower down at the blank-faced leona sat on the grass. he merely tilts his head, raising a brow at you and seemingly pondering from the way his eyes fly to the sky.

you'd think that maybe your plan actually worked but he merely grunts and flops backwards, holding the back of his head with his palms as he laid. and! he ignores you.

...this little greedy man... "why should i care whether or not you finish your work?" he huffs, like the evil, arrogant spawn he is but you can't really defend yourself cause said evil spawn bewitched you so much that you actually still like him.

"because you care about me?"

"...fine," he scowls, releasing a breath you'd mistake for irritation. "then, do you really think i need you to finish your work when i can just keep you right here?"

you sulk. "i'll do anything you want?"

he deadpans as if you said something stupid. "i don't need you to anything else but sit still and be pretty."

...

...

see what i mean about him eventually winning you over? yeah.

next morning there's a rebellion in savanaclaw about overworked residents and ruggie is the head of them.

"he said that he doesn't need you today." <- ruggie, steering you away.

"really?" <- you, confused

riddle (overthinks TOO HARD.)

“I'm just a little busy.”

“I understand,” riddle says.

“I'm just a little busy.” he understands.

“a little busy.” its just… a small thought…

“I'm just busy.” his mind is a hazard at this point. 

for someone as supposedly maintained as riddle—you'd think his mind is as composed as it is organized. like the pens you'd perfectly align in correlation to order of colors, or the neat pile of clothing folded neatly, tucked in some corner in your closet that is farther in since it's used less.

that's just how he is, or at least seems to be. a bundle of organized thoughts, every thought connected to another. a mind too clean to be going on haywire (when he isn't in a particular mood, that is.)

you're just busy. he thinks. you said it yourself, with that agonizingly nice smile that must be sprinkled with some kind of spell from the way it just eradicated all the protests in his throat upon sight. he isn't one to question it, he wants to help but not if you don't ask.

he can only stare with resigned acceptance at your insomnia induced eyes.

but when the curtain of darkness befalls night raven college, even in the comfort of heartslabyul is he still thinking about that thought–and he can’t help but wonder; why exactly are you busy? its not that he’s suddenly hyper aware of your lack of presence since you’ve been attached to the hip the previous week and now you’re just.

…busy…

riddle likes to think of himself as a level-headed, private person. like the boy he raised himself to be and therefore proud of. but its way past 10AM. which is usually the time he sleeps, and let me tell you that he’s never once broke the cycle for years. yet here he is, a frown of frustration present on his face as he wills his mind to sleep.

somehow closing his eyes felt forced, he immediately snapped them open once his mind decides to conjure an image of you even in the darkness his lids offers.

“THIS IS ABSURD.”

and the yell promptly woke up the entire dorm from the ferocity of his scream. (and of course gave them the flashback of their year.)

that night was one of the worst he’s ever had because he woke up with red rimmed eyes and a pounding headache that ensured his bad mood the rest of the day.

everyone noted to steer clear.

and he unknowingly steered clear of yours since you were ‘busy.’

“why are you sulking?” a voice queried, spoken as though they were eating something as they asked. a reprimand rises in his throat, but it all just dies down once his sharp eyes settle on you, slipping into the seat in front of him then raising a brow and the traces of irritation practically evaporates from his eyes.

he feels the need to cough–so he does. “i’m– i’m not.” he clears his throat, avoiding your eyes but still sneaking in glances, something he notes is that you’re still looking everytime he does. (and boring an unimpressed face because he knows you don’t believe him at all.)

guilt rises in his mind, because he feels a slither of annoyance and its the presence of pettiness that bothers him. riddle knows you’re not at fault, just his mind at convincing that you just somehow decided in the span of a day that you might not like him anymore–so he can’t help the bite. 

“why are you here?” a glance not intended to look mean.

“i thought you were busy.” he adds.

your brows raise, he spots your teeth holding your lips back from showing your grin and he feels warm. “what?” he hisses defensively, despite you not even having replied to him yet.

he leans backwards, straightening up in his seat when your chin leans forward, resting on your intertwined fingers. you flash him a smile. 

“mr. rosehearts, are you perhaps… sulking because i’m busy?”

“no!”

silence.

“no.” he repeats, weaker.

“well,” you continue, beaming. “i heard from ace that you were awake the entire night, and that you kept him awake too. are you alright?” 

he sputters. “it wasn’t because of you!”

you snort. “i didn’t even say anything about me.”

so you incline to following riddle around, poking fun at him and still trailing after the seemingly enraged red head because despite his angry protests, demanding you to go away because you’re annoying he keeps glancing back to see if you’ll follow,

so cute…….

[flowerflowerflo]

౨ৎ ⋆｡• vogue beauty secrets 🐰 ๋࣭ ⭑

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ hair

don't wash your hair every day! i think everybody knows this but i know a couple people who still dont wash their hair only 2-3 times a week. obviously it depends on ur hair type but only wash your hair when it needs it!

don't wash your hair with scalding hot water either. its not only bad for your body and face but its also bad for your hair as it ruins the natural oils and damages cells etc

if you have frizzy or easily knotted hair i recommend keeping a comb on hand in the shower and using it to detangle before putting in any products

i've been emulsifying my shampoo for only a couple of weeks but my hair is sooo much fluffier afterwards so i definitely recommend that!!

now i'm torn on this one but apparently shampooing twice is better for your hair than doing it once? i tried it one time and it did not end well for my hair type but i know it works for a lot of people so if you wanna give it a try then go for it ♡

i squeeze excess water out of my hair before i put in my conditioner so i can completely get it in there without

also change your pillow case often! this is for your face too, as the oils will build up and thats not good for ur hair or face. i change it once a week but 2x a week is good too if you're able 💓

don't go to bed with wet hair. stop doing that. its super bad for your hair and keeping it pretty & fluffy & cute

airdrying is my holy grail, been doing it since i was little and dont regret a thing. its a billion times better than blow drying & makes ur hair so fluffy too ♡

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ body

DO NOT. HAVE. THE WATER. BOILING HOT. i am guilty of this and have been for years but it has such a bad impact and you shouldnt do it! cold showers are better but i prefer warm showers so theres a middle ground (& its always cold in england, so id freeze to death.)

using body lotion after the shower has been such a game changer for me its incredible. makes you smell nice, feel nice, look nice, and its so relaxing and i feel like a princess after i do it <3

exfoliating is really important if your aim is for soft skin 💓 i have been doing it for months and as somebody with super rough skin its SO soft now

partake in some form of exercise. i hated hated hated sports and exercise when i was younger but i did do dance up until i was eleven and have been doing pilates consistently for months now, and my mindset towards it has changed drastically over the years to finally a healthy one. it can be a difficult thing to get into but make it something you enjoy. it doesn't have to be sports. ill make a post on this soon but it can be pilates, kpop dances, running, hot girl walks, anything! and most importantly, do it for mental health and physical health, not losing weight.

make sure you're eating properly. remember that 2000 - 2500 calories a day is the MINIMUM. please do not stress over things like that. your body is so important & is there to be nourished and not neglected

change your bedsheets every week if you wanna smell good, this is so important bc sweat and odour will build up if u dont and thats icky and wont make u smell good & probably isnt the best for your skin either!

i also put two similar body washes on in the shower that i get SO many compliments on & its really helpful if one of your priorities is smelling good

dont just wash body wash straight off, let it sit for a few moments so the scent can actually sink into ur skin

🎀𓂃 ࣪˖ face

skincare every morning & every night. if ur tired or just not feeling it today then simplify it, just make sure you never leave it out because its super important! no. skipping. no work = no reward.

on this note, try not to have a too complicated skincare routine, as this can backfire and make ur skin worse than before. your skin isnt meant for 18 different products and 200 chemicals every morning!

never wash your face with hot water... this is also a given but just in case... it strips your skin of its natural oils and does more harm than good

stop touching ur face... just for those who need a little reminder

make sure ur sleeping enough. seriously disney princess movies meant it when they talked ab beauty sleep; it seriously makes a difference, so please try make this a priority, especially if you already have dark circles like myself! (like girl did you see aurora's face? my girl's skin was so clear i could see my reflection)

pay attention to what makes ur face puffy or irritated or makes you get break outs. i keep a little break out log in my skincare page in my journal (little teaser for an upcoming post 🤭) and this has helped me go over what helps or hurts my skin! i recommend this especially if ur prone to acne or breakouts 💖

cold spoons in the morning to depuff your eyes; ive only been doing this a handful of times but im making it a habit seeing as it really helps! (as someone who can get vv puffy eyes 😭)

hydration is so important, for everything in this list, but most of all (from my experience) your face! i drink A Lot of water every day. probably a bit too much. but its so worth it, my skin has been absolutely amazing ever since i started actually making hydration a priority. (and this is coming from a girl who didnt touch a drop of water when she was younger & had to go hospital for dehydration several times.)

i'd recommend scrubbing ur lips too in the morning when you brush your teeth, i saw this on pinterest aaages ago bc i had super dry lips and i do it every morning & every night RELIGIOUSLY. its so so good and i definitely recommend

i have super dry lips in the morning so lip balm in the mornings w my skincare is absolutely essential for me

i also put perfume behind my ears & on my neck so its the first thing people smell when they hug me! im a very touchy person and i love hugs and i love showing love to people so this is essential for me but its optional, just makes you smell good ♡

[xyouami]

hi! i wanted to ask if you can do a Scaramouche × female reader when scara finds the reader self harming/trying to suicide. Thank youu! <3

YES YES OFCC!!!! IDK HOW LONG THIS HAS BEEN IN MY INBOX, AND FORGIVE ME IF I HAVENT SEEN THIS FOR A WHILE.. 😭😭😭

Who knows, maybe I'll add a lil twist to the end for suspension... 😈😈 /hj

—————

"You're an idiot, you know that?"

★ SYNOPSIS : He caught you trying to do it. Who knows what his heartless mind will do?

THEMES/WARNINGS : Suicide, SH, dark topics, some of it is in first person, you've already dated someone, u r 7th fatui harbinger, anything you can think of as bad..

Everyday,

Every night,

Every week,

Every month,

Every.

Day.

Fatui meetings, missions, every minute it's so frustrating.

Every day, is just the same. Nothing changes. But the only thing changes, is my motivation.

All I just wanted was for someone to notice my hard work, at least just a single praise can bring up my hopes.

Overworked, tiring and restless days, food just tastes bitter. After I joined the fatui for personal purposes, my partner left me. They said, "I wouldn't want to date someone who'd work for the devil."

Not that I was doing it for her.

As the 7th fatui harbinger, what could ever go wrong? I mean, treated with some care by the other harbingers isn't bad at all. Columbina is the kindest one of them all, yet terrifying. Arlecchino is barely here but when she is here, she treats everyone to a meal. How could everyone have a kind heart of their own?

Dottore is very foolish despite his rank. Pulcinella takes care of Tartaglia's family which is very kind. Pierro is actually gentle despite his cold and harsh demeanor. Sandrone gave me a small doll of a flower, to always make me remember that summer will always be with me wherever I go. Pantalone once broke a valuable vase, but he fixed it on his own when he had the time. He told no one but me.

Tartaglia always checks up on the Fatui harbingers. He seem outgoing and cheerful most of the time, but when he's alone, he's so quiet and dense. Captiano is scary, but can also protect us. Scaramouche isn't here often, but hes not a trouble to bother. He sometimes comes to talk to me to rant or just come to bother my company. Signora was the closest to me. She's strict yet I sometimes catch her playing with the children at the House of Hearth. Ever since her death, I felt... quite lonely. But I've accepted it.

How can everyone be so busy and kind of their own?

And I'm just a rotting body.

I envy them.

"Comrade! What are you doing just wasting time away like this?" You turned your head immediately to the familiar voice, to see a ginger colored head with a beaming smile, but void like eyes.

"Oh, um.. I'm.." You looked back at the table to see a desk full of unfinished and uninteresting papers. You game to the main hall to work on paperwork. Only to realize you've zoned out and gotten no progress.

"Let me help you." He immediately scooped up a pile of papers, some of them fell but he lifted his foot to catch one drifting to the ground.

"How long have you been here? You okay, Comrade?" Childe gave you a friendly smile, the dim moonlight coming from the large windows only casted a small glimmer in his eyes.

"I uh... I don't—"

"Don't worry about it! I'll come back to you once I've finished, but you owe me a meal!" Childe left as he threw the paper on his foot back into his tall pile of papers and walked off.

"W-wait! Tartaglia!—" You stood up from your seat to turn around and stop him. To only be met with an empty and dark hallway, only being lit by the moonlight from the windows.

"I..." nothing but mutters came out of your mouth.

"How can I be so pathetic?" A quiet voice came from you. Only to sit back in your seat to see no papers. Columbina was suddenly there. It was normal for her to appear out of thin air around the Zapolyarny Palace.

"It seemed like you had some trouble, I'll do the rest of the papers." She was holding all of the papers somehow, and you felt nothing but guilty.

"You really don't. It's my work.." you muttered slowly.

"Fatui harbingers may work independently, but some cases, we're all family." She replied. She didn't open her eyes once, but that's just how she sees..

"I'll—"

"You don't have to pay me back, otherwise people will have other useless debts to pay." She turned around and vanished. Not to be seen in or within the wind.

"I just.." All of the 8 years of working and working up and up to only end in this rank feels terrible.

Am I really that useless?

"Y/n." A quiet but loud voice came behind them.

You jumped a little from the sudden small shout, but you looked behind you to see a mysterious figure with a big hat.

"Ah, um. Scaramouche." You quietly said.

"Is my name really that hard to forget?" Scaramouche clicked his tongue then approached you. His figure slightly got taller as he approached.

"I'm sorry."

"Anyway, what're you doing? Shouldn't a mortal like you be in the dormitories?" Scaramouche looked down at you if you were a bug. Even though you were only one rank behind him..

"Oh, I forgot." You mutter. He sighed and gave a small flick to your forehead. You wouldn't really count as him as your friend, but he talks to you more than the other harbingers.

"Humans are so forgetful.." He mumbled.

"Sorry.." You blandly said.

"Stop saying sorry over everything."

"Huh?"

"When was the last time you said sorry?"

"When I... said your name."

"Is that something to be sorry for?"

"I.. um."

"Just go to your dorm. Captiano has something assigned to you tomorrow. Get rest." Scaramouche brushed past you and hushed along to his own way.

"Im.. sorry." A quiet mutter came out of you.

You walked to your dorm only thinking about that moment and past times. You remembered Tartaglia and Scaramouche came to save you in battle against a few hillichurls after you were injured. You couldn't help but cry after that night because you weren't even powerful enough, even though being the 7th fatui harbinger.

Why do I say sorry all the time? Why am I so useless? I'm just only here like a doll for showcase. Why is everything the same? Why am I so weak? Why can I even defend myself? Why...

As soon as you opened the door, you threw off your jacket and didn't even bother to switch out of your clothes. Just flopped in bed and huddled in a ball. Silent and quiet tears fell.

You've never told anyone your problems. No one.

My problems are useless. So what's the point of telling someone them?

You're now standing at a cliff no where near Zapolyarny Palace.

The cold air just felt bitter against your skin.

The pretty lights of the northern lights and stats glimmered. They lit up the whole place..

If only the last time you'll see them is today,

That's okay.

The lights are so pretty.

If only when I was a child, I would be able to jump in joy.

8 years of suffering and loss will be over soon.

I promise you,

It will end today.

I wish my tears would've been spent on something else,

But these lights are so pretty.

I wish..

That maybe someone...

Will love me just as much...

The height of the cliff wasn't scary. But it was a long way down to the cold sea.

The sea reflected the pretty skies.

"So cold.."

To only feel the pressure of wind dropping down.

Im falling.

You're falling.

"Ah!—"

a cold but sudden embrace was there.

A tight grip around your waist was found.

"You're an idiot!"

You looked behind you to see a dark indigo haired figure holding you tightly.

"Do you go so far out by killing yourself because you didn't want things to go out like this!?" He shouted at you.

"Your idiotic mind is killing me!" Scaramouche plunged back before setting himself in front of you. He drapped his jacket over your shoulders.

"Do you plan on being so stupid and killing yourself!? Do you even know how long it took me to find you only to come to you almost dying? Is death your only wish!?" Scaramouche scolded you and shouted at you. His raised voice people could possibly hear from a 5 mile radius. The rest of his shouting blurred in your ears.

But he suddenly paused in his words.

"Why are you crying?"

"Huh?"

"Stop crying." Scaramouche said. Although his voice sounded harsh, his tone was soft.

Soft little streams of rivers were coming out of your eyes, and you didn't even notice.

"I said stop crying."

"I don't..." He paused.

"Wanna see you cry."

"Again."

You just sat in the snow, buried in his large jacket staring at him.

"Wha—"

"You're coming with me." Scaramouche gripped onto your arm and pulled you up without an effort.

"Scara—"

"I said you're coming with me."

Next morning was all a blur.

You were in your bed, how?

You remembered you were outside.

You could've swore you...

Whatever,

Today, the sun was out. The sun isn't usually out during winters like these.

You went to the small kitchen in the dormitory to cook something.

You opened the knife cabinet... only to find no knifves. So you decided to skip breakfast, not that you really had breakfast anyway.

During that whole day, Scaramouche sat next to you without a word. He's usually never at meetings. And today he's always somehow near you...

Talking to Columbina? He's right behind you.

Finishing a task Tartaglia gave you? He's right there.

Hes like a stalker..

It was until a few hours later, you went to do something.. a little dangerous.

You picked up a sharp object until it was immediately grabbed away. You looked to your side to see Scaramouche standing there with the sharp object.

"You've been following me all day. What's wrong?" You immediately said.

"You're stupid."

"What?"

"You already know the answer."

"Huh?.."

"Shoo. I'm taking this away."

"But I need it to give it to captiano—"

"I'll do it." He then walked away.

For some reason,

Your mind told you that...

Maybe he didn't want you to get hurt.

You then turned around to go back,

To only see a shining cryo vision on the table from where you picked up the sharp object.

"Visions are granted by powerful wishes." You once heard someone say long long before.

I wish that someone will love me as much as someone used to in the past.

@xyouami 12/21/23 8:32 pm.

[glorystark]

His Saviour | Part 1

Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: You disobey one of Steve's orders in a mission but you don't think about the consequences...

Warnings: (TRIGGER WARNING!) mentions of self harm and suicide, mentions of killing and torturing, pure Angst no happy ending, mentions of injures, dark!Steve Rogers, swearing, minor spoilers of Black Widow, Steve being an asshole in general

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Featuring: The original 6

Disclaimer: please don't read this if you're not comfortable with any of the topics below or/and if they trigger you. This is just a fiction and it's never ok to act like this. I'm not romanticizing any of these topics and this behaviour!

You are sitting in the Quinjet, observing everyone who is injured in different ways. Natasha has been stabbed in her right thigh, Clint’s left ankle has been twisted, and Bruce, although not injured, appears exhausted due to a significant code green call, during which Nat almost lost him trying to retrieve him. Thor has a few scratches on his face. Everyone’s faces show bruising in different areas, and their bodies are still aching. But you, you have been injured the most. Your right wrist is broken, and you have been shot in your left leg, though the bullet wasn’t deep and didn't cause major damage; otherwise, you probably would have passed out by now. You still have trouble breathing, and your voice is sore because one of the HYDRA agents almost choked you to death. Your face is bruised, you can only open your right eye halfway, and your lips are swollen. The numbness has made it so you can barely feel any pain. When everyone saw you upon returning to the jet, they were extremely worried. You didn’t possess inhuman powers and weren't a super soldier, but you used to be a well-trained assassin and spy in the Red Room, closely partnered with Natasha Romanoff before joining S.H.I.E.L.D. So, it was surprising for the team to see you so battered, though they understood the mission was challenging.

Everyone needed a break upon returning to the tower. Initially, everyone thought it was a straightforward mission: infiltrate a high-security HYDRA base, get two flash drives containing vital and dangerous information, and exit. What no one knew was that it was a trap, with far more agents present than expected. Eventually, you managed to escape, but only securing one of the flash drives.

As everyone settled back in the jet, Bruce finished removing the bullet from your leg and bandaging Nat’s thigh. Thor bragged to Tony about his usual lack of injuries on missions, joking that he could have taken down all the HYDRA agents that day if he hadn’t been 'unlucky', which elicited laughter from Tony. Clint checked on Nat while she recounted a memory from Budapest. Meanwhile, you contemplated going home for a long shower until you noticed Steve, whose eyes were fixed on you with intensity. Confused, you assumed he was lost in thought, but you were wrong.

“How could you be so reckless?!" Steve's voice boomed through the jet as he stood up from his seat, his gaze piercing into yours. Everyone stopped what they were doing, surprised by his uncharacteristically loud tone, given his usually calm demeanor, even when upset. You looked at him, uncertain of what to say. You understood why he was angry; you had disobeyed an order. However, if not for your 'disobedience,' you wouldn't have acquired half the information you have now. To you, this seemed like Steve Rogers throwing a typical Captain America tantrum.

“Well, are you going to answer, or are you too stupid to respond to a simple question?" he growled, advancing toward your seat.

“I wasn't being-" you began to mutter, only to be interrupted by Steve.

“Speak up," he demanded, his voice cutting you off. You met his gaze, puzzled by his demeanor.

“I wasn't being reckless; I was being thoughtful. The-" you tried to explain, but Steve interrupted again.

"Thoughtful?! You call that thoughtful?! Really, Y/n? It's clear you don't understand the difference between stupidity and thoughtfulness.” he retorted.

“Will you stop interrupting me?" you interjected, your voice growing louder as you rose from your seat. You locked eyes with Steve, standing almost chest to chest in front of each other.

“I wouldn't have interrupted you if I knew any useful words were going to come out of your mouth," he countered, finally yelling, causing everyone but you to flinch.

“You have no right to yell at me like this, Steve.” you asserted, standing up for yourself.

"I have EVERY right to yell at you, you-" he began, but you cut him off this time.

"Why are you making it seem like I committed a crime? Yes, I agree it was wrong for me to enter that room alone, but I retrieved the flash drive we needed, didn't I?" you challenged.

“That is not the point right now. The point is, I'm your captain, and I gave a strict, direct order not to enter that room, and you disobeyed me.” he stated firmly.

That was all true. When you disobeyed his order, you knew he would be angry, but not to this extent.

You sprinted down the hallway, incapacitating every HYDRA agent in your path. You tried not to use your gun too often, knowing there would likely be guards in the room.

"Steve, I found the room," you said through your earpiece. You subdued the agent guarding the room where the flash drives were, and as the door swung open, more than twenty HYDRA agents stood before you, blocking your view of the drives on the computer table.

“Y/n, what did you just say? Get out of there now! Do you even know how many agents are in there?" Steve's urgent voice echoed in your ear.

“I do now," you replied, still facing the agents, who were also eyeing you cautiously.

"Y/n, this is an order. Get. Out. Of. There. Now.” Steve commanded, his tone almost a shout.

“Sorry, Steve, but people's lives depend on this.” you declared, charging toward the agents, disregarding Steve's pleas for you to retreat.

“Steve, I really don't understand what the big deal is. I got one of the drives, and yes, I went alone, but at least I obtained something that will help us.” you reasoned, taking a seat.

“Alright, y/n, I'm definitely sure now that you are deaf. You entered a room with so many HYDRA agents-" he began, only to be cut off by you.

“They were like 10 and they were really weak-" you defended.

“They were 27 trained assassins!” he corrected, making you widen your eyes.

"And do I need to remind you that your leg has been shot, and you can barely keep your eyes open, not to mention the rest of your injuries." he added mockingly.

“Okay, Steve, I get it, and I'm sorry for being reckless. Can we let this go now?" you pleaded, sitting down.

“Let this go?!" he started laughing, though his laugh lacked any humor. Everyone looked at Steve, unable to believe his behavior. They never expected him to speak to you this way, especially in front of the whole team.

You and Steve had been friends since meeting during the Battle of New York. You had a lot in common and quickly connected. A few months later, at one of Tony's parties, he kissed you, and the following day, he asked you out. It had been six months since then, and Steve treated you like a princess. He called you his savior because you helped him adjust to life after being thawed from the ice. He adored you. You had a few minor disagreements, but they were hardly fights, more like disagreements. You could never stay mad at each other, and now you couldn't believe the man who was laughing at you and humiliating you was the same person.

"Steve, I think that's enough," Nat finally intervened, her voice calm yet firm.

"Is it really? I think baby y/n hasn't learned her lesson yet.” Steve retorted sarcastically.

“Fuck you, Steve. You can't speak to me like that. I'm not a kid. If it wasn't for me, we wouldn't even have that one drive, and god knows how many people could have died. But you can't even realize that because I disobeyed ‘Captain America's orders,' and no one is allowed to disobey America's 'hero.' The only kid between us is you!” you shot back, your voice rising, though not as loud as Steve's had been.

“I'm a kid, y/n? Really? And what are you, a hero? Do you expect me to thank you now? Do you expect all of us to be on our knees thanking you?!" Steve challenged.

“That is not what I said!" you finally snapped.

The tension in the room escalated, and the team grew more uncomfortable by the second.

Steve smirked at your angered state.

“What's the matter, y/n? You seem a little bit defensive. I thought you liked being a hero. You know, because of the guilt, since you started killing and torturing people at the age of 8.”he said, still wearing the hurtful smirk on his face.

The whole team gasped, especially Natasha, whose story paralleled yours. You looked at Steve, unable to believe what he had just said.

“You seem shocked, Agent y/l/n. Oh, and Natasha, don't take this the wrong way. We all make mistakes in our life, but at least after we realize our mistakes, we try to make them up as soon as we can and not run away like a coward.” Steve continued, ignoring your reaction. You and Natasha widened your eyes, understanding what Steve was referring to."Steve..." Nat began, but Steve cut her off.

“I'm not done yet. Some of y'all look confused, well, let me explain it for you," Steve said, addressing the rest of the team.

"Steve, don't." you murmured, your voice weak now. You weren't even sure if anyone heard you, and you were right. No one heard you, but Steve who chose to ignore you.

“Our dear y/n y/l/n was a well-trained assassin back in the years with Natasha Romanoff in a place called the Red Room, which I'm sure you've heard about. Before even Natasha was out of there, Agent y/l/n found a way to leave the Red Room, a way to save every girl, from children to adults, who were mind-controlled into killing, and even worse. But do you know what she did instead?" he turned around the room, looking at everyone as if it was a show. No one said anything; they just kept looking between you and Steve. It was getting harder for you to focus on your breathing.

“Well, in case you haven't guessed yet, she just left everyone who could've been saved, even her best friend who is sitting right here with us.” he said, pointing at Nat.

“And even though she could've killed Dreykov, who was the leader by the way, with her genius plan, she didn't because she was a coward.” he said, emphasizing the word coward.

You've never felt so small and betrayed. You couldn’t believe he was using your awful past against you. When you confided in him, he comforted you, assuring you it wasn't your fault. That you’ve been through a lot and you took the only chance you had to save yourself. And now… now he was a different person.

“Cap that’s enough, it’s not our business what she did in the past. We all did something in some point that we aren’t proud of. She made up for that mistake many times now, since the battle of New York until today’s mission. I’m sure she still feels guilty and you’re just making it worse.” Tony looked at your trembling sight, standing up from his seat and walked towards Steve. The rest of the team nodding along, glad that Tony stood up for you because they were frozen themselves.

“Oh yeah Tony, you’re right I’m sure she feels guilty, don’t you y/l/n?” He looked at you as if you were a kid

Everything about him was hurting you right now. His voice tone that humiliated you in every way, his eyes that sent daggers to your way, his body that was intimidatingly towering yours, his smile which always made you happy and now it was only mocking you. Your throat is dry, your eyes are wet and you feel like your heart is going to come out of your chest in any second. You were hurt and unwell, and everyone could see that, everyone but Steve.

“Agent y/I/n do you feel guilty about your past?" He repeated his sarcastic question.

"I wouldn't worry about that too much since you have a good way to cope with your guilt right?" He continued.

You looked up at him frighteningly, understanding where he was going.

“Steve don't you dare." you whispered, finally being able to say something.

Everyone was confused since they had no idea what you both were talking about.

“you seem scared agent." Steve smirked at you sending shivers down your spine. It hurts so much more that he wasn't even using your name anymore, he felt like a stranger to you.

“SHUT UP!" you had never yelled so loud in your life, the whole jet shook. Everyone flinched but Steve. It seemed like he was waiting for this.

“Come on y/n are you that afraid of everyone knowing how you used to deal with your problems, or do you still do it?"

Everyone was quite once again, something in them wanted to know what Steve was talking about but they also didn't because of the way you reacted.

You looked at him not saying anything but your eyes were begging him to stop. You've never been in such a vulnerable position, especially considering everything you’ve been through.

“oh don't tell me you're gonna cut your wrists open again because you feel guilty you didn't get the second driver."

Everyone froze and widened their eyes, silence filling the jet. No one knew that you used to harm yourself until you started dating Steve, he was the first person to ever know. You felt so comfortable around him that you didn't want to have any untold secrets.

You thought about what if you guys break up but you convinced yourself that even if you guys separate your ways from each other at some point, you're definitely going to stay friends and he's never going to tell your secret to anyone because you believed he was a good man. You trusted him more than yourself and now he proved you all wrong.

You didn't cut anymore, because you found a way to save people. If it wasn't for Nick Fury, making you join the team you'd be long gone by now. But you didn't have a reason anymore, you were happy you had a new family and a new job, everything was perfect for you. Now you felt alone all over again and you didn't even blame Steve, you blamed yourself. You failed.

You started trembling more and started to see black spots. The team walked towards you to see if you were okay. Thor pushed Steve away, "Stay away from her," he warned, before walking to you. You heard Tony and Natasha yelling at Steve, Clint trying to calm them down but looking angry himself, Bruce and Thor asking you if you were alright, but you couldn’t hear anything anymore. It was so loud, but you only heard annoying mumbles. You let out a sob before passing out in the strong arms of the god, the last thing you saw being Steve's worried eyes…

A/N: This was my first (published) fan fiction. I apologise for any writing and/or grammar mistakes considering that English isn’t my first language. Feel free to correct me! If you enjoyed this, please let me know and let me know if you want to be tagged in the upcoming posts! (This fic will make a twist;))

[grandlinedreams]

Hey could I request a scenario of Ace discovering that their S/O is to be publicly executed thank you if you can and my apologies if you can’t

ANGST? U WANT SOME ANGST? I CAN DO THAT LETS GOOOO

[Heads up!: mentions of canon typical violence, hurt/no comfort, as always, open ended!]

"Are you sure about this?"

Deftly buttoning up the (stolen) shirt, Ace spares a glance at Marco, who's watching him carefully.

"Only way we're going to get them out of there." He tugs on the shirt, makes sure it's sitting right before he swipes the cap and settles it on his head. "Wish me luck."

"You better hope this works."

Ace grins, even though it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "Guess that's good enough."

ㅡ

This is not the first time that Ace has disguised himself as a marine. He keeps his head down, lets the brim shadow his face as he slinks down the road.

With the amount of marines that he sees, it's hard not to feel his skin crawl with both paranoia of being recognized and being around so many marines in the first place.

But he grits his teeth and gives his cap a determined tug, eyes blazing beneath it. He can't bail now, not when you're counting on him to get you out of here.

So he does what he does best ㅡ he talks. He makes up a fake name to throw around that sounds nowhere near his own, buys a couple rounds for a table of older marines, and settles himself in amongst them.

"You're a pretty good guy, Connor." An arm is slung around his shoulders, and it takes everything not to tense and shove the marine off of him. "Have you ever witnessed an execution?"

This time, Ace does tense, passes it off with a bout of uneasy laughter and reaches for his drink. "Can't say that I have."

That gets a round of laughter he doesn't join in on, watching warily. "Then you're in luck! Because in three days time, we're executing one of the Whitebeard pirates."

Even with his devil fruit, Ace feels his blood run cold, heart sinking into his stomach like a stone. "Really," he forces himself to say, tries for a casual tone. "A member of the Whitebeard pirates?"

"Yeah," one of them confirms. "Gotta make a statement, ya know? Not gonna get through to them any other way."

"Nobody's tried breakin' them out, either," another chimes in with a laugh that makes Ace feel sick. "Guess they didn't think they were worth saving!"

If only they knew. Knew who Ace really is, that he'll go back to the others with this information, come with a plan to get you out of here.

The idea of failing you and watching you die makes Ace want to be sick ㅡ he won't let that happen. Not now, not ever.

"Gentlemen," he says as he stands, tipping his cap. "This has been wonderful, but I should probably go."

He ignores the protests, barely hears them over the rising beat of his heart in his ears as he leaves.

Three days. They have three days to find out where they're keeping you, a way to get you out ㅡ with as little possibility of harm on their side as possible.

The odds are already tipped away from his favor, but it doesn't scare him. Ace smirks to himself, eyes blazing.

He'll rescue you, one way or another.

[pieroulette]

LIKE HONEY

2023 | 16+ | 7k | ONESHOT × KIM SUNOO (ENHYPEN)

💭 REQUESTED BY ANON!

WARNING emotionally independent! and extremely manipulative! sunoo, soft yandere! sunoo, toxic relationship, mild cursing, graphic scenes of self harming, violence here and there, jealousy, kidnapping, suggestive scenes: kissing scenes, implied smut O_O... threatening, usage of knives and more. ANON I MIGHT'VE GONE OVERBOARD IDK BUT I HOPE U LIKE IT??

Like honey, he was.

Foxy eyes of his pulling you towards its spiraling depths of honey

Orange lips of his blooming honey flowers

His touches overflowing like a dripping honey on your skin.

Every single piece of him is like honey over pouring on your entire existence.

Drowning you were and yet it was the least of your concern as he was sweet like honey.

Kim Sunoo. The fox like boy that never fails to capture your heart within his affectionate grasp.

His eyes beaming with vibrant echoes of yellow, akin to honey, had never failed to sweeten up your dull heart — your boyfriend.

Those faint orange lips of his tugging upwards to kiss his rosy cheeks as he stood under the grace of the sky and sun. Fox eyes slithered upwards screaming intimidation and coldness, yet the beholder within those pupils held an undying comfort and affection.

— for you.

Everything of him was undoubtedly comforting—somewhat odd but you wanted to bathe in his scent and everything of him even more.

He made you feel as if you were a princess, treated you like one and often at sight as soon as you called for him, not even an ounce of complaint ever left his sugary lips, his eyes often holding great affection inside it.

With him, you're at the top of the world because just like he often said; he was your everything, and so do you.

This wonderful relationship you had with Sunoo,never will you trade anything to such a perfection like this.

The very first time you met him back then was when you bumped into him while fighting with someone inside a bakery, more like competing on who gets the bread first. He made his appearance by getting it for you despite all the trouble, handing it to you with his usual shy demeanour.

Your heart skipped a beat over how adorable this fox boy was, his simple gesture towards you started as a simple normal friendship until he confessed to you one day just like any other day.

Sunoo did in somewhat a very nonchalant way and straightforward—a complete contrast to how you perceive him from the beginning—he brought you a pack of honey, placing it on the table where you were at for cafeteria, asking you out for a date. He didn't expect much to be honest like he explained it to you.

"I don't know if you like honey, but.. if you do, then let's meet sometime if you want more—"

Though as much as he tried to keep on his brave and courageous demeanour, it all fails as he started to stutter, inaudible words form on the tip of his tongue.

You observed as on how rosy his cheeks grew when he confessed to you, dilated pupils darting around as if to avoid your intense gaze, his wet tongue lapping on his faint orange lips every once in awhile, dainty fingers of his fiddling with hems of his sleeves.

So fucking adorable.

He was painfully shy, kind hearted, and someone you feel like you want to protect.

Though, there's a series of events where it's difficult to handle Sunoo.

Why, you may wonder?

For the first few months in relationship with Sunoo, everything was perfectly fine and normal until it all went downhill for no reason—his clinginess and his downright dependence growing overtime—as flattered as you were to his never ending attention towards you, and the fact it made you feel at ease that his eyes would never linger on no one else but you — has sooner drained you down.

The first time he begged you to stay for the night, expressing his wishes to stay more closer with you, you felt so loved. Second time, he did that—you couldn't help but be over the moon for getting a perfect jackpot like him. Third and so on, you were sure you and Sunoo was really for each other.

Bearable it was, yet it grew worser—his words begin to sound demanding and annoying—often growing whiny each passing day which had given you the thought of—what the actual fuck is wrong with him?

One turns to two, two turns to four, four turns to six and it was a never-ending cycle of him begging you to let him go with you.

It was as if you had a child whose little tiny yet tight grips tugging your sleeves down, preventing you from doing anything.

You begin to have the thought that he was emotionally fragile; requiring constant attention and support.

He constantly phone and text you—leading to multiple texts in an absolute short duration and it overwhelmed you to the point it gave you headache.

[3:09PM] Sunsun<3: where r u?

[3:09PM] Sunsun<3: answer me.

[3:09PM] Sunsun<3: (Name)! Why aren't u answering???

[3:10PM] Sunsun<3: it sucks here without u :(

His smothering alone is enough to drain you.

"Sunoo, I have to go to work." Your protests fell into deaf ears as the grip on your tightens even more.

"(Name).. One more hour? Pleaseee! Or maybe I can follow you?"

"Oh fucking god, do you hear yourself?" You couldn't help but feel amused, his clinginess does feed your ego and of course made you felt fucking loved.

However it truly starts to get annoying every single time.

"I gotta work, Sunoo. Heck I even got studies to finish soon!" You tried to pry off his wrapped arms around your waist—as here you were laying on his bed after staying for the night. "Sunoo!"

"Why you gotta be so busy all the time? It fucking hurts." Sunoo mumbles on the back of your shoulder causing a wave of vibrations which somehow turns you on along with those words of his, once again.

Why are you so weak for him?

As much as annoyed you were though, you couldn't find the courage to stop him from doing so or even strike a so called healthy conversation with him as the moment you were in his presence, all starts to flow along as soon as his hands were on yours and soon you're falling for it all over again.

As clingy as he was though, he had never accuse you of cheating on him. So maybe, it given you a second thought that maybe you should just compromise with him. That this is just the way he is. That you should only try your best to lessen your annoyance for him.

Though, it didn't last long unfortunately as everything turns upside down and a whole of it started to creeps you out.

Your seemingly normal daily life, a peaceful one somehow had turn to something you were sure wasn't a good news—as you particularly notice that whenever you were on your daily errands, there's this unusual vibe hovering on your back as if someone had their eyes glued on you every minute and when you turned back, there's no one but the sound of your breathe puffing into the empty air.

Everywhere from when you were at the library, school, the place you work at, or even simply hanging out with your friends—those nonexistent eyes was always boring on your back to the point you think that you might had gone insane.

Creep slithered down your veins.

Nowadays, you tried to ignore it but you had this unwavering dread that it must be none other than him, Sunoo.

However when you voiced out this bold question of yours, you were met with an outburst of cry and disbelief splattered on his beautiful face.

"How can you accuse me of such thing, (Name)?!"

Regret burned you down and it had you thinking, what the fuck were you even thinking to accuse him?

A week had passed without Sunoo's presence in your home and it had you completely drained. You loved him. You really do. You just need some time away from him but it had you thinking if it was this even normal without a week of interaction?

A fit of sigh escapes your lips as you lazily plopped on the couch you did and when your hands brushes down the soft material of the couch, you couldn't think of anything but him.

Missing his touch and all, his kiss and his hair. Every morning. Every single day. Those honey like words of his. Everything of him.

"...Fuck, this won't do." You groaned after letting out an exasperated sigh, getting out from the comfort of your blankets.

"Hm... I wonder which brand of honey does he like?" here you are looking for some honey to buy to reconcile with Sunoo upon the idea of doing the same thing he did when he confessed to you.

But as you were in your deep thought of deciding what to pick—you are completely unaware of the softened gaze hovering on your back from the reception counter where the beholder stood still; blonde hair and beauty marks on the top of his nose, tongue lapping below his faint cherry lips every once in awhile.

You went to the counter after getting not one but a bunch of honey pack, leading to an amusement expression over the the boy's face.

"Heya, Sunghoon!"

His usual and especially his favourite customer, the one he took meticulous note in his mind—memorising every feature, expressions, emotions of you.

"What's up with that crunchy face?"

You sigh, looking down. "What do you think?"

"Your boyfriend, again?" Sunghoon raised his eyebrow.

"You got that right, ugh. But it's a bit serious now and gotta admit it's my damn fault."

"Hey, you don't have to say that. What could've been possibly your fault?"

"Eh, try to consider that, dude. It's just that, ugh. I suddenly have this c-creepy vibes around me like someone's stalking over the past few weeks.. and it's freaking eerie—"

"Are you trying to imply that?"

You nodded with another low sigh, "Yeah, cuz' my boyfriend's hella clingy and it could be annoying at times so I just naturally had this thought that he might be the one.. But I guess karma is a bitch. What am I even thinking?"

You fiddling the hems of your sleeve, looking down.

"I wouldn't blame you," Sunghoon puts the honey pack inside the plastic. "It's okay to get mistaken, just try to settle it before your boyfriend get fed up."

Beaming up at his encouragement, you took the plastic. "Right?! That's why I bought this for him, he likes honey alot."

Sunghoon froze but regain his composure, "Oh, honey? He likes honey, I see.."

"So how's life, Sunghoon-ah?"

"Boring and tedious, gonna have exams soon so my life is a living hell now. It's a useless trial deciding my entire life."

"Nah, fighting! You're hella smart, so don't give up okay?" you gave him a small pat on his shoulder in which he looks back at you and froze. "Hm? Whats—"

"Your hair." He brushes his finger against your hair locks much to your surprise, "A bug."

"You know doing that could've won you a girl and not stick around here like a loner crying for your upcoming exam."

"Shut up. Bold of you to assume I don't have any chick on my bed." A lie. Sunghoon couldn't help but lie just so he can keep this friendship he treasures deeply.

Soft giggle escaped from your lips that Sunghoon simply adores which made him look down to prevent you from seeing his burning cheeks.

Sunghoon observes you as you walked away on your little hops, eyes brimming in fondness over how cute you are. However, he snapped himself out of those thoughts as it's eventually useless now—that he didn't bother to make the first move in the first place so now he had to deal with the consequences.

It just happens when you first appeared through the shop's entrance in your usual high school fit plus your ragged vibe had his heart strings pulled at once. Then you became his usual customer. Nice, beautiful and polite. You were everything. But he was painfully shy and so when you blurted out to him a few months later that you had a boyfriend, he couldn't help but be heartbroken over it.

So what's the point?

Sunghoon felt a tad bit uneasy on this particular day when you weren't making an appearance on what was supposed to be your usual day to visit and buy one pack of honey for yourself.

And it has been nearly two weeks.

So here he was standing in front of your house with a paper bag consisting of honey packs in his tight grasp, contemplating on whether to knock or not.

Like was he even doing the right thing?

Knock! Knock!

"Oh! Sunghoon. Why are you here?"

"The shop got a bunch of new packs of honey, and so I thought it would be nice to give you some in for free as a gratitude for being our loyal customer for months—" Sunghoon suppressed the need to roll his eyes over his dumb excuse but luckily you didn't seem to mind.

"There's no need to, actually!"

"No—no, it's my pleasure. Besides, I wouldn't mind since.." Sunghoon took a deep exhale, "I was also worried since today was supposed to be the day you buy honey so yea—"

"I'm flattered to hear that, I appreciate your concern however you don't have to worry though since I was just—"

"(Name)?"

Sunghoon was taken aback by the pair of arms wrapped itself around your waist much to your surprise, a slight pressure on your shoulder before you glance over noticing your boyfriend pouting.

"Huh? Who are you?" faint orange lips and puffy rosy cheeks, high bridge nose, black fluffy lush hair almost covering his eyes—those that held indifference in it.

Sunghoon couldn't help but feel intimidated by the shorter boy.

"Ah, this is my boyfriend Sunoo. Babe, this is Sunghoon."

"So.. what's your deal coming over here, to my girlfriend's house?" His voice was almost dripping as honey, deep and smooth but his aura was making Sunghoon fiddled his fingers. Like what the fuck?

"It's nothing, he was just worried besides we got a pack of—"

"Worried? What kind of relationship do you have to be concerned about her?"

"Why? Is there something wrong with that? I was just worried for (Name) so I don't think there's anything to be mad at." Sunghoon raise his eyebrow at the boy's attitude.

Blank, steady eyes boring a hole on Sunghoon's soul.

Rip!

Your shirt were forcefully pulled down a tad bit exposing your collarbone much to your surprise, "Sunoo!"

Fresh hickeys covering down your collarbone had Sunghoon's mouth dropping a tad bit. "O-oh."

Wet lips latching onto your skin had you almost letting out a soft moan before the taller boy in his shock state in front of you having your cheeks burning red.

"I assume you got your answer, now?" Sunoo raises his cold eyes towards Sunghoon.

You pulled your collar immediately, eyes darting in panic before ushering Sunoo inside and apologising at Sunghoon.

"Thanks for these, by the way!" you exclaimed before closing the door.

You threw daggers at Sunoo's way who only shrugged at you. "God, why the heck you have to do that?"

"Just showing him who you belongs to."

"Sunoo. He's only a friend."

"Doesn't excuse the fact he had to bring himself before your house." Sunoo rolled his eyes.

"You're so immature for fuck's sake."

You let out a surprise yelp when a pair of strong arms wrapped around you, turning you to the owner himself.

"Why not?" Sunoo smiles as he brushed his nose against yours and that small gesture of his immediately made you melt. "I only act like one whenever I'm with you, a privilege only you have."

"You good for nothing, why you have to be so cute like this?" You pouted, playfully punching his chest before he leans down to enclosed the distance between his lips to yours, the small smile never faltering as his wet tongue lapped softly on your lips.

You couldn't help the small grin and when you opened your eyes—he, too mirrored your expression but continued his sugary sessions; marking you as his in his very own unique, special way.

Scented honey mixed with orange bubbling up in the air as your lips became one with his, tangled tongues, and teeth sinking into each others pinky gums.

A wet pop bubbles up when his honey like lips untangled from yours leaving you wanting for more, amusement adorned his face when you let out an audible whine.

"Aww darling, why you gotta be so fucking needy?" Dainty fingers of his stroked along your jaw, he was sickeningly affectionate, so loving, so devoted and everything he do was for you. Perfect, these moments with him was downright perfection.

Just like honey.

"Can I get this one pack of honey?" A beaming smile on the boy's face as he placed the product on the counter.

Sunghoon's mouth dropped at the sight of Sunoo standing before him. What? What is he doing here?

"A-ah, sure.." scanning the honey pack he did as he takes a brief glance at Sunoo's cheerful demeanour, that vibrant smile never faltering.

Silence echoes like waves through the shop as Sunghoon puts the product inside a plastic, wrapping it before giving it to the black haired boy.

"Say, I somehow noticed that you've taken an interest on my girlfriend." Deafening silence eats them up for a brief moment before the older boy spoke up.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't lie, I know what that gaze means."

Sunghoon slams the plastic on the counter, eyes disinterested at the whole situation. "I don't. So just quit it. And so what? It doesn't make any difference, I don't see any use for you to say it."

"I hope you respect our relationship enough to stay just an inch away. That's not very kind of you to plan such a thing, right?" Sunoo looks down, eyelashes fluttering in attempts to hold himself together.

"Huh?"

“What I was saying was..” Sunoo clenches his fists as his head hangs down as if to avoid the older male’s intense gaze, "Please stop stalking her."

“The fuck you saying?—”

“I don't like the fact that you walked all the way to my girlfriend's house. You aren't even close with her so why bother? Unless you're planning something.."

Eyes shot wide open in such as if to devour Sunoo, "Are you trying to imply that I'm going to do anything to her? Fuck, we only met once and you're already accusing me. Just how low could you be, huh?" teeth seething with ferocious menace.

"N-no.. I'm sorry! I just really don't trust anyone nowadays—" Sunoo bit back his lips, eyebrows furrowed in an anxious manner. "I'm sorry if I had gone too far, it's not what I meant to say. I'm just really worried for her safety."

"Worried? Worried?" Sunghoon wanted to stop himself from talking but he was pissed enough that he wanted to spat it all out, "If you're really worried for her, then do you really think you're capable of protecting her? If I gotta be honest, I can protect her way more than you could."

"So you do like her." Sunoo slowly raises his head to gaze at his eyes. "I already expected that."

"Fuck, so what? You already knew then you must be really insecure to come all the way here then just to remind me."

Sunoo's eyes turns blank much to his suprise "Remind? Who says? I came here to warn you."

The black haired boy's sudden deep voice had Sunghoon stuttered. "H-huh?.."

"It's a warning. Keep your distance away from her. Don't speak to her or even look at her. You should know your boundaries.”

Sunghoon couldn't believe what he was seeing as the beaming smile on the black haired boy's face turns into a twisted sinister smile.

However, Sunghoon could only scoffed. "Don't you think a petite boy like you deserves to warn me like this? Like do you even know what you look like?" Sunghoon scoffed as he eyed the black haired boy all the way down.

"And I guess (Name) was right, you're really something.."

"This is not even close yet. Just stay away from her and we're good."

A fit of scoff and furrowed eyebrows contorted on Sunghoon’s face before his hands curled it’s fingers beneath the younger boy’s collar, pulling him forward to the counter.

"What if I don't? What you gonna do huh? As if you can do anything to me."

Sunoo's eyes widened in such a way as if to mock the older boy, "Why don't you try and see?"

Sunghoon gritted his teeth even further at the boy's bold challenge. What was he even thinking?

"—Maybe if you win, you'll be able to get her."

“Sunoo! Sunghoon!” Your abrupt appearance had Sunghoon in a fit of shock before his hands lets go off Sunoo’s collar.

“What are you guys doing?!”

"Nothing, (Name)! It's just a simple misunderstanding, right Sunghoon?" Sunoo's cheerful demeanor returns as he fixes his collar, faint orange lips tugging up in his usual beaming smile.

A fit of cackle emits from you, “Are you guys sure there isn't something?”

“H-huh? Uh, yeah.. it's nothing.” Sunghoon avoids your worried eyes, his mind still running over Sunoo's words.

And yet the view of you and your boyfriend storming off out of the shop had him fuming in anger. Sniffing a huge breathe in as he darted around the counter in hopes to cool himself down somehow was proven to fail when he couldn't help but slam his clenched fist on the counter.

"Fuck is this?!" A fit of choke bubbles up in the deafening silence. "What's his deal trying to insult me like that?!"

"Chill, Sunghoon."

"I guess he's trying to challenge you or something.."

"What he's going to gain from this then?"

"Fuck, just what does she see in that fucking fragile kid?" Sunghoon spats out as he ruffled his hair frantically. "You know what, fine. Get that fucker right here."

"W-wait! Am I hearing you right?"

"Bro, then how are we supposed to get him then?"

"I'll be back from work soon, just stay right there okay?"

"Okay.. come home soon, (Name)." you frowned at Sunoo's solemn voice on the other line.

You sighed. "Now what's with that voice, didn't we already talk about this?"

"Uhm.. don't mind it, I'll wait for you here."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure, I'll be a good boy and wait for you."

Your cheeks grew red at his words before muttering how he kept teasing you before hanging up, speeding up your work so you can go back home soon and indulged yourself in his honey like touches.

The layers of the orange painted skies poured through the neighbourhood as Sunoo hums along the way through the street back home. The sound of motorcycles, cars and all sorts of vehicles passing through and the low volume of music from afar; a small cafe and people spilling in and out.

"Yah, Sunoo."

"Hm? AAAH—"

A hard push led Sunoo over the street which instantly had him losing consciousness much to their amusement, calling him weak and fragile as they covered his head in a sandbag and threw him inside the car.

It all happens so fast that when his eyes shot open, a ceiling and an unfamiliar living room was what his eyes met accelerating his darting glances all round him.

"W-WHERE AM I?!" Sunoo screams, thrashing in the group's caged arms.

"God, he's so fucking noisy."

"Do we have a tape?"

Another unfamiliar face bend down to Sunoo's curled form, "Sunghoon's house."

There, they yanked him on the ground surrounding the poor boy and punched him and locked him under the basement.

"Sunghoon! We got him." The guy cackles as he chews his gum, turning around to Sunoo's helpless form.

"Hey, stand up. We don't want you to get so messed up before Sunghoon arrives, yeah?"

Darkness engulfed the entire sky, the neighbourhood grows in a sea of vibrant lights. A ticking clock echoes inside the empty living room. The main entrance clicks open and there Sunghoon came back home in his usual fit, his eyes darting towards the direction of the basement.

He was caught off guard when he stumbles upon a faint stain of blood against his painted white walls, letting out a sigh. "Told them not to beat him too hard."

Unbeknownst to him, a dark silhouette moves in a swift speed behind him which alerted Sunghoon, eyebrows furrowing at this uneasy vibe surrounding his place.

"If you guys are planning to prank me then quit it." His words were met with death silence. "Guess they're in the basement then, ugh."

An approaching feet halts behind him as soon as he turns around landing a swift blow towards his head, loud thud echoes up in the air as he fell on the floor. Blood trickling down his forehead as the result of the blow.

Blink, blink.

Sunghoon's line of vision blurs, blinking multiple times when he finally realise where he is right now.

A dim lit room with the hanging lamp on the ceiling, patterned wallpapers, wooden floor, a small table against the wall before him, there was no window but a door just to his right side. It was by now clear to him, that this was his basement.

Creak! Creak! An approaching faint footsteps from behind the door alerted Sunghoon from his dazed.

Deafening silence engulfed the entire space when the door pulls open revealing the fragile looking boy with a tray on his hand—Sunoo.

Sunghoon's eyes shot open, getting up on his feet so quick he didn't notice the rusty metal chain on his leg.

Loud thud! Helpless he fell on the wooden floor back much to Sunoo's amusement.

A low giggle with a mixture of sigh emits from younger boy. "Ugh, chill a bit, will you?.. it's not like I could kill you that fast, wouldn't that be no fun?"

"LET GO OF ME! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU THINKING, HUH??!"

Sunoo's eyebrows furrowed, deep frown splattered on his face as eyes rolling on the back of his hand, his finger sticking inside his ear.

"Oh god, so worked up for nothing."

"What— what do you want, huh?!" Sunghoon couldn't sit still as the demeanour of this younger boy before him was too intimidating. "Where are they? Where's my friends!"

"Here, have some from honey I bought from your shop."

"I won't drink this shit! Who knows what could've you put in there?!" The chair rattles so loud due to the desperate boy's attempt to escape.

"WHERE ARE MY FRIENDS?! WHAT DID YOU DO TO THEM?!"

"Who knows? Probably left you for good."

A rattling sound that serves as a pure scratch; irritation, to the black haired boy's ear and yet, he took a deep sniff and poured it all out through a dejected sigh, the only sound heard in the dimly lit room.

"What?.. You're lying!!"

"Am I? Poor you, you don't realise that you're actually the scapegoat right here!"

"Fucking liar!"

"I see you're still in denial.. but it's okay, it's understandable because who could've guess that your friends aren't really your friends pfft."

Sunghoon suppressed his sobs. It can't be?!

"Now why don't you have a drink?"

"PUT THAT SHIT AWAY FROM ME! YOU MONSTER!"

"Eh? I's not like I can find something to put it in here? Aren't you dumb for such a brawn? Pfft. Suits you. Might as well die thirsty." With that, the boy walks off leaving Sunghoon all alone in the dim room. All alone by himself.

Tick, tock.

Tick, tock.

How many days has it been? One day? Two or three days? A week? Or maybe a month?

Time seems to stretched even further in this basement however it only has been a few hours since he had been locked inside this room—an excruciating few hours had passed since then and Sunghoon was dead thirsty; his throat dry and his line of vision blurring due to his dehydration.

Sunoo was really adamant in torturing him as the pack of honey on the table serving as a form of temptation before him as dozens of questions ran through his mind—what ifs—eyes blinking in an unstable pace as he can't decide what to do.

Sunghoon knew he could collapse anytime now and sooner and later—he will be at mercy in front of the younger boy—though he refuses to give in.

Whish! Sunghoon hesitates to put the straw in between his dry, chapped lips—going back and forth— fear engulfing his entire brain and body.

W-what if he put something in this?! A fit of scream echoes inside him, teeth gritting as he pushes the pack of honey away on the wooden floor.

But it didn't last long, unfortunately—as After taking a brief sip from the pack, Sunghoon finds himself falling into an empty void—excruciating pain hollowed all over him and he doesn't know where as he squirmed frantically on the wooden floor.

Burn. Everything was burning. Excruciating and slow pain.

The door pushes open revealing the giddy boy on his little hops and giggles before he was taken aback by the sight before him, suddenly bursting into a fit of laughter "My god! What a sight! Turns out you're really dumb."

Sunghoon's eyes rolled in utter red, tears messing up his once bedazzling face, mouth choking relentlessly.

"W-WHAT DID YOU G-GAVE ME?!" ear wrenching screech echoes as his nail dug on the dark, old wooden floor.

Sunoo bends over with his hands on his knees as to balance himself, maniacal eyes hovering on the poor boy as if he was a fresh raw meal. "Now.." an amused grin slowly forming on his pouting lips, "Does it hurt?"

"Where does it hurt? Does it feel like someone's tearing your throat apart? How does it feel? How do you feel? Does it feel wet? Is it red? Fuck, does it pains you so much to the point you want to die?"

Sunghoon's eyes rolled over to the back of his head, shoulder vigorously rattling and hands clasping his neck.

Burn. The pain grew to be even more excruciating as if someone was ripping the insides of his throat apart. Sunghoon looks down in pure agony only to see a pool of blood staining his.

The sight sent him into hysterical mode with a fit of gut wrenching scream emitting in the air.

"H-HELP!" Taking a huge gasp each time as he felt his throat exploded in dripping blood, a mess staining the wooden floor. Screaming vigorously and thrashing, holding his neck as he squirmed on the wooden floor like a maniac. Eyes rolling back and mouth bubbling foams. His neck growing thinner and thinner till his thyroid's structure pops out, blood dripping down to his shoulder and everything in an absolute mess of horror

Screech! Screech!

"Yah. Want a selfie?" His red blood shot eyes met the sight of Sunoo's mouth pouting downwards and chin resting on his left palm, and a phone within his right hands grasp—his eyes screaming downright mockery at the misery of the boy writhing on the ground. "you know, I was only fooling you back in the bakery and you were foolish enough to bite the trap pffft!"

"Oooh poor you, does it hurt that bad?" Sunoo cooed before his voice turns low and deep. "—Then you shouldn't have be the dumb bitch you are, you moron."

"Yah." Burning pain echoes in Sunghoon's insides as he got kicked in the stomach by the younger boy. "Yah. Answer me. Wait, I forgot you couldn't talk!"

“Bitch, want some more?”

Eyes shot in downright horror when the pack of honey were dangling in Sunoo’s dainty grasp and his menacing smirk weren’t doing any good.

“H-help—” standing before Sunghoon, there his eyes curled in half moons as it over flowed tears down to his cheek, sniffles here and there as his nose went red, lip trembling. “Help me..”

"Wanna know why it hurts so bad?" He stood near Sunghoon's squirming form, "Because this honey has an acid inside it, bastard." Sunoo pours the rest of the liquid down to the boy's form as gut wrenching scream surrounded the entire place—a pure melody to the younger boy.

"IT HURTS— I-I IT— H-HURTS H-HURTS! HELP! F-FUCK!— AGHHH—!!" Sunghoon banged his head on the floor on repeat whilst his hand clasping all over his neck, ears, head, body—eyes rolling to the back of his head as he felt his body burning in downright ashes, skin melting to liquid—his face, arms and everything into nothing.

"M-MY SKINNN! AR—GHH—" mouth bubbling in a mess of saliva as his head fell on the wooden floor in a loud thud.

Sunoo covers his mouth in attempts to stop his giggles but he couldn't—outburst of insanity finally echoes through the walls, waves vibrating and the insides emptying for a brief minute.

"Sunghoon-ah, bastard. Such a dumb, dumb fool."

Death silence.

Low sigh emits from Sunoo as he gets back on his foot, fixing his posture—bright screen shining on his face as he tapped all over his phone's screen.

Sunoo cleared his throat, sharp eyes softening as soon as the call got answered instantly.

"112, what's your emergency—"

"P-please help me! I- I don't have much t-time anymore — PLEASE!!"

Sunghoon's eyes fluttered open at the screams; his vision were met with the sight of Sunoo bursting into tears with phone on his ears, then around the ceiling, till his eyes fell on his hands.

Flipping his hand front and back as he did so— expecting an open bloody bare skin however his skin was intact as if nothing had happened.

"You have to calm down, tell us your location." The other line echoes through the deafening silence.

"I- I don't have much time—" whispering so low yet Sunoo's eyes screams mockery, "They gonna—.. come get me."

"Calm down, take a deep breathe. Do you remember where's the last time you've been at, any single clue?"

Sunghoon's eyes shot wide open as the realisation dawned on him, the emergency call and everything. His eyes fall upon the growing sinister smile on Sunoo's face.

Faint orange lips dropping open, rosy cheeks bubbling up in amusement in a complete contrast from his fragile voice, "Park Sunghoon.."

"YAHHH!!!" Sunghoon yelled at the top of his lungs, hands trembling on the wooden floor, wanting to beat the shit out of the younger boy yet his body were drowning in excruciating pain and weakness.

The sight made Sunoo giggle lowly.

"Who's there?"

"It—it's him.. Puh-please h-hurry!" Faking a choke on his throat, "He's c-coming!.."

“Hang on there!”

As the call hang up, Sunoo's went back to his usual maniacal expression as he looked down back at Sunghoon in his dazed reaction.

“How was that?! Was my acting good?” brushing his finger and poking it against his rosy cheek, “Ugh, could’ve done better, don’t you think?… But who cares when I had you right here, bitch?

Sunoo bends on his knees. “We still had time before those bitches came, so how about we talk a bit more hm?” a tiny tsk emits from how his tongue collides beneath his teeth, cheek popping out in such a leisurely manner.

"You're f-fucking insane." a voice so tiny as Sunghoon trembles in both fear and rage before his eyes widened at what the boy was holding.

A glint flashes through Sunoo's face, "Wanna see how more insane I could be?"

"W-what—"

Wet liquid splattered on Sunghoon's face, leaving him on a deep trance over the play of horror before his blood shot eyes, downright speechless he was.

Swift! Swift! Swift!

"SEE? LOOK AT THIS! FUCKING LOOK AT ME!" Dripping mess one after another stained the entire room as Sunoo slits open his bare arms on repeat like a broken doll.

"F-fuck. Fuck. Fuck." Sunghoon trembles in utter fear with everything he had witnessed—the drugs soon pulling him into the labyrinth of darkness.

“Now let’s put this sweetheart in your fingers.” white handkerchief wrapped on the knife’s handle got laid on Sunghoon’s grasp.

“Hmm! Now where do I lay?” Sunoo won’t stop giggling. “Here? Or there? Nah, that’s too fucking dirty.”

He keeps pointing in all sorts of directions, thinking of a plausible way of being seen by the officers barging at any moment later.

A low, low sigh.

"You see, haven't you sticking your nose in our relationship.. you wouldn't have to end up in mess you.. created yourself." Sunoo's lips widened, letting out a fit of giggles. "But it's perfectly fine, atleast now you know when to judge someone. Fucking asshole."

That sight was the last thing Sunghoon ever saw before giving in to the drugs flowing through his veins, passing out on the floor in a low thud much to Sunoo's amusement.

A sigh of absolute relief emits up in the air.

"How long is it? Hm.. Two hours before I meet my pretty (Name)."

Blaring lights surrounding your line of vision.

Ambulance, police cars, reporters and passersby gathering, some of them spilling in and out of a particular house. Murmurs arises, gossips echoes everywhere around you as you tried to look for him.

"Where's Kim Sunoo?!"

You couldn't help yourself from tearing up from the horrible sight before your eyes. Cupping your mouth in attempts to suppressed and yet it was all deemed useless the longer your gaze sticks on the miserable fresh cuts on Sunoo's arms.

"Sunoo? Sunoo!" Rubbing his torso you did, trying to wake him up from his slumber.

"(Name)?. ."

"Sunoo! Are you— no.. Who did this to you? Fucking tell me!"

"Ahh.. (Name).. I miss you so much it hurts." Sunoo brushes his finger against your cheek and you indulged in his touch you loved so much. "I thought I could never m-meet you again."

"Fuck, you dare to die without me beside you? Don't you dare." You sniffed in your tears, mouth pouting downwards as you laid your head on his chest.

"Of course, why would I dare?"

Baffled Sunoo was, everything was baffling easy—too fucking easy. A few words of being pathetic here and there, a dose of tears, and the persona of a fragile boy in front of everyone was enough to fool the entire nation, doesn't it?

"Doesn't it?" Sunoo smiles before the blonde haired boy behind the screen.

A glare so deep in hatred, bangs covering his eyes as he tries to stop himself from tearing up with the thought of his future all thrown into the drain and the fact he had been manipulated by the boy over and over again.

That his friends were actually dead. Their corpses were laid on the carpeted floor in his home with their neck slit open, blood spilling from their open wounds and that he was the one who has been convicted of killing them under the influence of drugs.

"Fuck you. Fuck. Fuck. It's all your fucking fault." Sunghoon bares with his gritted teeth, fists clutching his dark blue pants.

"Think again, whose fault was it?" a satisfied sigh emits from the black haired boy behind the thick screen. His faint orange lips twisted in a maniacal manner.

Sunghoon couldn’t believe what he’s looking at right now, his pupils dilating into nothing and mouth falling apart as it dawned on him — he was messing with the wrong person. If only he didn't took the challenge—

"Your mother, your father, your piece of a shitty friends, your useless shop—which one could truly save you from the mess you put yourself in to?" Sunoo leans forward, eyes shot so wide and mouth dropped in a downright mockery. "Nothing."

Sunghoon slams his fists on the counter, baring his teeth.

"Sunghoon, Park Sunghoon-ssi. Fuck, that name is bound to be remembered as a druggie addict for—" Sunoo hums along, "The. Rest. Of. His. Life."

Those words echoes through Sunghoon's mind.

"Fuck you!" You screamed at him, "Turns out it was you, moron. How could you? How could you fool me like this and then do that to my boyfriend?! What have I done to you, huh?!"

"It wasn't me! I swear it wasn't me!—"

"And you're saying I'm blind? Park Sunghoon! You have no shame, do you? Stalking me, and doing all that disgusting things! You must be so fucking insane! Okay, I get it. But why the fuck you have to target Sunoo?!"

"That bitch is fucking messing with you! Us! He's not as innocent as you think he is!"

"Look at yourself in the mirror! You're the one fooling me!"

"I SWEAR! (NAME)! THAT GUY IS INSANE! HE HURTED HIMSELF AND HE— AND HE—"

Despite how Sunghoon tried to convince you of your boyfriend's true nature, you only sit still watching him being dragged away by the officers in his desperate attempts to thrashed around.

You let out an exasperated sigh as you cupped your face in the hands, comforting yourself that it's alright now. That there will no longer someone like Sunghoon to mess up your life and especially your relationship with Sunoo.

No one.

"I couldn't believe it was him all this time." You kept going on and on ranting about Sunghoon to your boyfriend, absolute disbelief written on your face along with disgust surfacing every now and then while watching the news about him in the TV.

"A murderer. A stalker. And a druggie?" You shake your head, "This kind of person?— fuck, faces can fool."

Sunoo lets out a satisfied sigh as he listens to all your rants, squints his eyes against the sun over pouring on the wooden floor, resembling the sweet taste of a honey and yet nothing is comparable to the home like warmth emitting from his darling’s lap.

He couldn’t help his faint orange lips pulling into the slightest grins, burying his head deeper into the your lap in which it elicits a chuckle of amusement from you.

Your audible rants were interrupted at his tiny gesture, giggle escaped your mouth. “So needy, hm?” your hand ruffles his feathery like hair.

Sunoo shifts his position to look at you in the eyes, “Always for you.”

Ah, those foxy eyes that held absolute love for you. Just how could you resist it?

Orange sunsets never faltering from the sky—over dripping like honey against the edge of the couch, your hand on top of it being engulfed by the sun's warmth.

His lips finds it way through yours again as he gets on top of you—pushing you forward to the couch, sucking and nibbling on your lower lip. His hands wrapping round your neck to pull you even closer to him, you could feel the skip of his heart beat growing louder against your chest.

Growing impatient, his fingers hastily pulled your collars down and you could feel his breathe against your neck as his lips trailed further down to your exposed collarbone.

Sunoo lets out an audible giggle that sent waves of vibration against your skin serving as a ticklish sensation, "Seeing you under me is so fucking hot."

Before he leans forward to kiss you again, the pack of honey on the table took his attention and it leads to an idea popping up in his mind. Taking the pack in his hand, he took a long sip from the straw before he leans in closer to you—pushing his tongue melted in honey inside yours, swirling and tangling in utter sweetness.

A contented sigh escapes from Sunoo's lips as he took a brief inhale through his mouth, indulging himself in you—his darling.

Beads of sweat trailing down his forehead and neck, that lovestruck, intense foxy eyes of his never leaving yours as he pounded deep inside you with every hard thrust.

You and him perfectly mixing together in these sea like honey—that he built upon a corpses of those he despised from the bottom of his heart.

Bam! Bam!

Every single, slow and deep thrust serving as a declaration of love from him to you. Of course, anything for you—even if it means to snuck in a bunch more of those sharp taste honey down to some pests’ throats.

🐾 © SWEETPIECEOFNIGHTMAREZ | 2/14/2023

🐾 AUTHOR'S NOTE: sorry Sunghoon 🤡 and here I am again bringing a whole ass fic for a request ✋🏻time to drink some holy water and ofc to y'all lovely folks who reach the end, thank you for taking your time to read my stories, have a nice day! :)

📖 PERMANENT TAGLIST: @seungcheolswife

[possibilistfanfiction]

For a prompt: honestly, I’d love to see more of outsider’s perspectives of Ava and Bea, like you did with the shopkeeper and her wife.

[tbh this has basically everyone u would want to see!! lol - 10k ao3 here]

//

yasmine

camila and beatrice have been video chatting often lately, and have figured out something encouraging,  you think. you try to understand everything, but it seems like, especially when jillian is on, they're speaking a whole different language. sometimes you're a little blown away by the both of them still: camila is brilliant at anything to do with technology, and kind, and funny; beatrice is brilliant at, well, just about everything, and, even though she's been working steadfastly to research how to get ava back, she still has sunkissed skin now, light hair and freckles. sometimes you see a flash of a tattoo on her wrist.

it hadn't really surprised you, to see ava lean forward while the whole entire world was ending and kiss beatrice — a little awkward, for you, but mostly achy. you haven't ever cared about sexuality, but you definitely don't when it comes to the two of them: because there's harm and then there's duty and then there's love.

one day you're sitting with camila, pretending to read more than actually reading, when beatrice facetimes. you know this because, honestly, sometimes you're a little nosy. it's fine; you helped save the world and sometimes the ocs, with incessant and constant training, gets kind of dull.

when camila answers, beatrice is crying. from what you can see, she's in a sports bra, you're pretty sure; you're scared, for a moment, that she's hurt, or that something really bad has happened, but then she's laughing and say, 'ava's here; ava's here,' and camila starts to cry.

'she's — she's okay?'

and then, a literal fucking miracle, ava's face — the same as you remember; so pretty and with a friendly smile — pops up on screen.

'holy shit,' camila says, and then she's laughing too, her eyes filling with tears. 'hi, ava.'

'hey,' ava says, then crams in next to where beatrice is sitting on the couch, practically on her lap, but you can't really begrudge them. beatrice is in a pair of sweatpants and, indeed, a sports bra; ava has, ostensibly, changed from whatever outfit she came back in, because she's wearing a big soft t-shirt and a comfortable pair of shorts. maybe that's what she wore in — wherever she was, but you're pretty certain those are beatrice's clothes. 'yasmine too, hello.'

beatrice is still crying and smiling and ava leans into her side, runs her fingers gently under her eyes to dry her tears.

'— how?' is the only thing camila gets out: are you okay?; do you remember us?; do you want to kill us now?; how long have you been gone?; are you still the ava we know?; what is going to happen to this world now? sits in your chest, but ava just shrugs.

'i heard bea, all the time.' beatrice blushes slightly, but she just tucks her face into ava's arm from a moment. 'and all of you too. but, bea, the strongest. i think it had something to do with her being in the ocean, maybe? and the city of angels.' she turns to beatrice. 'a little on the nose, don't you think?'

'oh yeah,' camila says, 'that's it, definitely the only reason.'

beatrice rolls her eyes but ava just smiles. 'and because she loves me, i suppose.' she scoots even closer to beatrice, who sighs happily. 'something just — spit me out, i guess. right in bea's living room. which, if i do say so myself, is way better than cat's cradle, no offense.'

another miracle in a series of miracles beyond belief. 'wow,' you say, and there's a beat of silence before everyone is laughing again, camila wiping tears.

'anyway, maybe you can come to us, tomorrow?' ava asks. 'i don't — i would like to stay here, if i can. if that works. at least for a few days.'

'you're — you're healed?' you can't help but ask.

ava nods. 'lots of scars,' she says, but then shrugs, and beatrice runs a gentle hand up and down her spine. 'but yeah, i'm good, as far as i can tell. not old as fuck, either, which rocks.'

'we can come tomorrow,' camila says, then starts crying all over again. 'i can't wait to see you. both of you.'

ava grins. 'yeah, don't come too early, though. i have plans.'

beatrice really blushes then, coughs into ava's shoulder.

'i will be sure to let beatrice know before coming,' camila says.

ava's smile is way too bright, all of a sudden, and beatrice groans and you kind of want to cover your ears before ava says, 'that's what i'll be doing tonight.'

'goodbye, ava,' camila says, even though she laughs. 'i love you, so much.'

ava leans into the camera, like she wants to reach through it. 'i love you too. i am — there are no words for what i feel, seeing you all again. and how much i missed you.'

'well, have fun tonight,' camila says. 'please don't tell me any details when we visit tomorrow.'

'this one time, i'll spare you.'

'thank god.'

//

keiko

you meet her on an otherwise unremarkable monday afternoon. you're running through your forms before the advanced adult class you teach, and when she walks in, you notice her immediately: muscular in a cutoff tank, in a way that's unassuming and speaks to years of training specifically in martial art, a calm expression on her face. her hair is back in a meticulously neat bun, and, when she sees the wall of bo you've spent a few years collecting, her shoulders relax and she lets out a big breath. vanessa is at the front desk and, while she's the best to go out in weho with, she's not the most knowledgable.

'hi,' you say, stepping up beside the desk. 'i'm keiko.'

she offers her hand and shakes firmly, calluses similar to yours. 'beatrice,' she says. 'pleasure.'

'can i help you with anything?'

'i'm hoping to join a dojo.'

'well,' you gesture to, in fact, the dojo behind you, 'you've come to the right place.'

she grants you a small smile.

'we have classes, all levels. would you like me to show you around?'

'that would be wonderful, thank you.'

and you had shown her around; you had sold her a monthly trial membership — a few advanced adult classes and some time for open practice — and a gi and obi — she'd calmly informed you that she's a black belt, and when she came in the next afternoon for the advanced class you teach, you had felt immediately embarrassed when she runs through forms with the kind of power and ease you had only seen a few times in your life, even at the olympics and world championships.

'that was a great class,' she says, far too kind a compliment for someone who is probably the one person you've met since you retired a few years ago who could beat you in a competition.

'you are — incredible.'

she shoulders the compliment with reluctance. 'i haven't trained in quite a while.'

'that is honestly insane.'

she laughs, after a moment. 'a much needed mental health break,' she says. 'but it felt good, to return to this, in this way.'

'do you — i saw you looking at the bo the other day,' you say, and you don't miss the way her hands twitch. 'would you like to use one? i have to clean and close up, anyway.'

she hesitates, but then, 'are you sure?'

'absolutely,' you say. 'pick any one you want; you can train over there, it's got the best view of the ocean.'

'that's very kind.' she's solemn, and a little quiet. 'thank you, keiko.'

she walks, barefoot and at home in her gi, and runs her hands gently over each bo. she picks a medium length one, black and sleek and heavier than your favorite, and then takes a deep breath and starts moving so beautifully you can't even quite follow it. it's mesmerizing, and you watch until she slows and then sets the bow on the ground and, to your surprise, sniffles. she wipes tears off her cheeks and you quickly start cleaning, granting her as much privacy as possible. she takes a deep breath and then takes the bo and walks back over to the wall.

'if i find one of my own,' she says, 'can i store it here? it's all right if not, of course.'

'you're more than welcome to do that.' you don't quite know what to say to her, the most talented martial artist you've ever seen in your life, who never competed at any events you know of, randomly in your dojo, who had just cried running through forms with a bo, small and coiled tightly. 'and, honestly, you don't have to feel like you need to come to classes. you're more than welcome, but i think you're beyond anything i would have to teach you.'

she laughs after a few seconds. 'i really did enjoy it.'

'maybe thursday we could spar? i'm here in the morning.'

she seems to weigh it, but then she nods. 'that sounds fun. thank you, keiko.'

you get to know her quickly: the way she moves and her favorite forms and the first time she throws you, you lie on your back in a little bit of shock: you haven't lost in years. she just stands calmly and offers you a hand. 'who are you?'

she just laughs.

you get to know her, as the days go along. you get lunch, one day, and you flirt with the host and the waiter — 'i love cute boys,' you say, 'what can i say?' — which amuses her.

'my partner is a flirt,' she says, but the smile slips from her face before she can stop it. she clears her throat. 'she's very sick, right now,' she says, quickly, as if to avoid your questions. 'but, still,' she says, sitting up a little straighter, gathering herself, 'a flirt.'

you learn not to ask about her partner; you learn that she surprisingly loves pepperoni pizza and beer; you learn that she's rich and lives in a beautiful house on the beach, but she's generous and lowkey, especially compared to everyone else in los angeles. she works in tech for a firm in spain — the details vague, but that's tech anyway — and, when you offer to let her teach a kids class, she smiles gently and accepts. she's patient and seems to enjoy correcting their form and teaching them kata one step at a time; she encourages them and makes sure to teach, quietly, that the goal is never, ever to harm, only to protect. she's one of your best friends, quickly, and is also impossible to beat whenever you spar. she goes out with you and your friends in weho one night, gets very drunk and turns down what feels like an entire club of women, and then tells you, on your couch at home while you give her a glass of water, that her partner’s name is ava, and that she’s kind and smart and beautiful and loves to dance. she doesn’t cry, but she curls up, small and sad; you haven’t mentioned it since.

one day, beatrice texts you, early in the morning, Hello! Ava's treatment worked, so she's back with me now, for the foreseeable future.

it's very businesslike, but she's always a stiff texter, and you know how excited she must be, how relieved.

Hopefully forever, she sends, and you know you're right.

you meet ava a few days later, hanging onto beatrice's side when she comes to the dojo after a few days off. you realize, in one flash of a moment, clear and sacred, that you really have never seen beatrice smile before — not until ava looks at her when she takes her bo off the wall with the softest expression. devotion; adoration. love. beatrice blushes and returns it, a smile in full force so powerful it knocks the air out of you slightly.

you also realize that you've never seen beatrice show off before, and you decide, right then and there, you're never sparring while ava is watching. you can lose, sure, but being humiliated is not on your to-do list. when you tell ava that, as she watches beatrice in a little bit of a daze, she just laughs. 'she's incredible.'

'yeah,' you agree as beatrice swipes the bo along the ground so hard you think she could break an ankle, then stands without a breath in between. 'she is.'

//

ray

the second time you meet ava, she's in a tiny bikini, bright orange, with a wispy gossamer coverup that you're sure beatrice bought just for her. it kind of makes you laugh, and it's barely warm enough to be out without a sweater, let alone in a bikini, but ava waves when you come in from the whitewater. bea is still waiting at the outer break, exhausted this morning for reasons that made her blush and you had laughed, delightedly.

'your girl is taking forever to catch anything today,' you say.

ava almost glows, you think, at your girl. 'we didn't get much sleep last night,' ava tells you with a wink. you grin and high five and then offer her a spot on your towel after you unzip your wetsuit and pull it down to rest along your waist.

ava is beautiful. you had wanted to know her, for months, and finally, she's here — young and so, so pretty; small and surprisingly muscular. you would never say anything, but you know she had been sick, and there are scars all over her body, puckered and angry still, shiny and pink. you know bea doesn't care, and you don't either, but ava moves a little gingerly and you fight the urge to ask if she needs help. she settles, eventually, legs stretched out in front of her and her palms behind, leaning back into the sun, face turned up toward it. she closes her eyes and takes a deep breath in, then slowly lets it out.

you notice beatrice about to catch a wave, and you're happy when ava seems, like a sixth sense, to open her eyes just in time. bea is talented: balanced and strong and had learned to surf on a short board and relatively big swells quicker than anyone else you'd taught; when she’d shown you her bo one day — mostly because it was just out on her coffee table — you had been both very turned on and a little terrified. she’s the most gifted athlete you know, and so it’s no surprise when. she rides the biggest wave of the day all the way in, kissing the lip a few times, and ava sighs.

'she's so hot, jesus christ.'

'no comment.'

she laughs. 'we didn't get a ton of time together, really, before i... got sick.' she pauses, looking at beatrice collecting her board in the whitewater. 'she was scared. but now, it's like —' she shakes her head — 'i just love her so much.'

'yeah,' you say, a little teary for your friend. 'i can tell you, without a doubt, that she loves you too.'

ava grins, then stands and walks toward beatrice, who lets ava pull down the zipper of her wetsuit with gratuitous hands, a kiss to the nape of her neck, and then grabs beatrice's hand and laces their fingers together. 'wanna come over for breakfast?'

'i would — yeah,' you say, 'i would really love that.'

you step in, quickly, once ava cracks an egg so hard it goes all over the counter and beatrice only looks on in adoration.

'you're a disaster,' you tell her, but she just shrugs. ava is still in her bikini and cover up, and beatrice's hands sit on her hips while you fry some eggs and chop up vegetables to make a passable pico. she smiles into the crook of ava's neck and they make you a little breathless: a happiness that quiet; a love that big.

//

ayanna

you've been working at this coffee shop for a week now, and every morning, the hottest woman you've ever seen walks in, clearly just from the beach, and orders the same thing in a british accent that makes you want to groan. you're new to this part of los angeles, which is bougie as hell. it's mostly white influencers who order overly complicated drinks for no reason, but the pay is above minimum wage and your manager has worked with your class schedule easily enough.

plus — beatrice.

she's quiet, exceedingly polite and always tips at least twice of what her drink costs. she smiles and has freckles and you burn your hand more than once sneaking a glance at her strong arms and tattoo on her wrist and, eventually, a new one on her shoulder and collarbone that you had seen because she's decided to make your 6:42 am better by wearing a cutoff tank and shorts today.

'good morning, ayanna,' she says, and it's fucking electrifying that she knows your name, even if you have a nametag on your apron — it still counts.

'hey, beatrice. how were the waves this morning?'

she leans against the counter, just slightly, and you will yourself to keep your cool. 'how much do you know about surfing?'

'nothing, really.'

she laughs, not unkind. 'well, in that case, the outer break was far, which means i had to paddle a lot, but the waves were beautiful. can't regret it.'

'uh,' you say, super smooth, 'regular order?'

'yes,' she says, 'and can you add a chocolate croissant? oh, and an olive oil coffee cake. thank you.'

beatrice doesn't seem like the kind of person to eat a croissant and a coffee cake for breakfast, but who are you to judge: that sounds awesome, frankly. you tell her your total and she tips, like always, excessively, and then collects everything with a kind smile.

'have a great day,' she says, and you're too flustered to say anything other than an extremely eloquent, 'same.' mohammed laughs at you from where he's unpacking more to-go cups and you flip him off before you greet the next customer.

/

it's a few days later when your routine gets broken by another beautiful woman, who seems a little in awe of this stupid, trendy coffee shop, but beatrice wasn't in yesterday and it's already 7:19 and she hasn't been in today. it's not that you expect her, really, but she is the best part of your shift, so, whatever. you can have a harmless crush if you want.

'hi,' this new person says, and then reads your nametag. 'ayanna, what's up?'

your mind blanks, because you're pretty much face to face with an angel: she's small and lively and has pretty, delicate features and her hair is pushed back beneath a bright pink beanie, just at her chin. her hands, playing with a small, elegant black wallet, are delicate too. 'nothing,' you get out, 'just, you know, work.'

she smiles. 'yeah, i'm a bartender. opposite end of the day, but i get you.'

you glance down at your screen, just to have something to do other than stare. 'so, what's your order?'

she gets out her phone and reads off iced coffee with cold foam, and then locks it and inspects your pastries. 'can i get one of each? i want to try them all.'

you laugh, something fond and a little ridiculous about that, but you say, 'sure thing. what's the name?'

'ava,' she says. 'thanks.'

mohammed rolls his eyes at you while he gets the iced coffee ready and you put each pastry neatly in a to-go box, because ava is right there and you certainly hadn't needed to get her name. but whatever, she's gorgeous and it's early. ava tucks the box of pastries under her arm. 'ava, tell me which is your favorite the next time you come in.'

ava seems delighted by this. a good sign. 'sure thing,' she says, and then waves.

/

the next morning, it all comes crashing down. there's horrendous traffic, even at 5 am, and you barely make it on time. there's a rush of rude ass customers way too early, and you spill a shot of espresso down your apron.

but, then you see beatrice, and it's wonderful, and perfect, and so great: you're ready today, to ask for her number; you can do it. but then you see ava walk in right behind her after holding the door open, and it's like slow motion when ava bumps into beatrice's side and laces their fingers together and places a sweet kiss to her shoulder. you know there are flowers that sit there, under her hoodie, gorgeous in their greyscale, and ava seems to know as well.

'ayanna,' beatrice says, the biggest, most contented smile on her face, 'good morning.'

you nod and smile, although you're a little crushed. 'hey, beatrice. and hi, ava.'

'hello!' it's way too early for this kind of cheer but it's a little infectious.

'this is my partner, ava,' beatrice says, as if it wasn't horrifically obvious.

'back from quite the business trip,' ava says, looking at the pastries again. 'very remote, no sweets. gotta make up for lost time, you know?'

beatrice blanches a little but ava looks at her sweetly and she recovers. 'can i get my usual, and whatever chaotic order ava wants?'

ava laughs. 'my favorite was a tie,' she says, 'between the chocolate croissant and the olive oil coffee cake. which, i know, beatrice, you had said, but whatever, okay?'

beatrice smiles. 'okay, ava.'

they both, despite their bickering, are so tangibly happy your spirits lift. you'll take the L, if you have to, for people to have what they clearly do. they overtip, as always, and then take their leave.

'ouch,' mohammed says. '0 for 2 this morning.'

you sigh. 'more fish in the sea, i guess. gotta keep the faith.'

he laughs. 'that's the spirit.'

//

jillian

'okay,' ava says, sitting up as best she can with a grimace, 'if bea can't get into bed with me, what about you?'

you spare a glance for beatrice, who only rolls her eyes in amusement and underlying sadness: ava is in pain, to the point where she can't walk, can barely sit or lie down. she's on muscle relaxers and pain medicine so she's comfortable, but it's complicated and tedious, to try to fix her spine — or, more realistically, stabilize it — without killing her.

'how about we see how you're feeling after surgery?'

ava groans. 'that's so boring, jillian.'

you walk to her bedside and take her hand, squeeze it gently. 'ready?'

ava takes a deep breath, braver than anyone you've ever known in your life, time and time again. she looks at beatrice, who bends down and kisses ava gently. ava tucks a strand of beatrice's hair behind her ear and then cups her face. 'in this life.'

beatrice nods. 'in this life.'

'i love you, bea.'

beatrice kisses ava's forehead, eyes closed in reverence. 'i love you, ava.'

ava looks at you and then nods, teary and afraid. 'ready.'

other than your son, you have never been as determined as you are now. you control all of the tech to make sure ava is fully sedated but still alive, that the halo is dormant enough to allow the surgeons to work on her spine without it healing their interventions immediately. it's kind of a miracle, you think, that it all works — but, then again, it seems that ava is prone to miracles. it goes smoothly, without a hitch. ava will have chronic pain and limited mobility, at least some days, during flares — but it will be manageable. it will be livable.

beatrice is asleep when you bring ava back into the room, wheeling the bed as quietly as possible. she stirs, exhausted, from her chair, and you get to tell her — and then, after, a crowded room of ava's people, ava's family, waiting nervously — that it had gone as best as it could. you were sure she was alive, and that she'd wake up, and that, as far as you can understand, her pain would be significantly reduced. ava deserves more than that, much more, but it's what you can give.

you wake beatrice gently, a squeeze to her shoulder. you tell her first, because ava loves her: 'she did great. everything went as perfectly as it could.'

beatrice sniffles and then stands and hugs you. 'thank you,' she says, strong and calm and trembling with the force of it: the love of her life, safe and cared for.

'hot,' ava rasps from bed, and beatrice laughs and lets go of you and hurries to ava's side, takes her hand.

'hello, darling.'

ava lifts her hand and cups bea's cheek, and then wiggles her toes under the blanket. she grins up at beatrice, then grins at you. 'it worked?'

'yes,' you say, and it can't bring back your son and you can't fix the world, heaven or hell, but this — this — you can do: 'it did.'

//

mary

'hey,' you say, softly, when you notice beatrice start to stir on the couch. she presses her nose into the pillow behind her head, then the couch cushion, and then reaches up and rubs her eyes, scratches above her ear, and scrubs a hand over her face and blinks dazedly.

'a new shift?' beatrice looks around at the walls and windows darkening, trying to gain her bearings. she's in a hoodie and shorts, comfortable and soft, a pair of pale pink socks on her feet, her broken leg in its brace propped on a few pillows. ava had carefully draped a soft blanket over her, but beatrice had thrown it mostly to the side in her sleep.

'we're not working, beatrice.' you say it kindly, though, and offer her a glass of water with a metal straw ava had shown you proudly in one of the drawers in their kitchen. she sips greedily, without any embarrassment — maybe she's on pain meds enough to not care; maybe she's known you for so, so long it doesn't matter; maybe she's been shown a degree of love you have known only once.

she pats your hand. 'i know.' she wrinkles her nose. 'where's ava?'

'i threatened her to take a walk.'

beatrice laughs. 'glad to know she still understands who the best of us is.'

you want to argue with her — you're the best of us, beatrice; you always have been — but her head lolls to the side on the cushion and her eyes are fluttering open and closed. 'i like your haircut,' you offer instead. you wonder, with pride, what she's learned about herself, what she's let come forward that she's always known.

she smiles softly. 'yeah?'

'yeah. you’ve got a great soft dyke vibe going on. looks good on you.'

you’re not sure about the word, but you love her and you understand. and — she grins. ‘that’s the goal. androgynous and comfortable. i — i’ve grown into what i want, i think.’

'speaking for myself, i love to see it. it’s a whole vibe.’

‘yeah.’ she looks down and fiddles with her phone case for a second, not coordinated like usual. 'hey, so, feel free to tell me to fuck off forever, if you want, but one of my best friends is... basically the best.' she squints, focusing so intently and still producing a mildly incoherent sentence. it’s charming. 'i know there's no one that could — i know, mary. i know. but i think you'd like her.'

your heart aches, because beatrice lost ava but she came back; because beatrice has hurt all the same. and shannon wouldn't have wanted you to shut yourself off from the world. 'she's hot?'

beatrice laughs delightedly, pushing herself to sit up further. 'very, very hot. if you need backup, just ask ava.'

'ava thinks everyone is hot.'

'true. but, most of all, me.'

she says it with such stoned confidence it's hard to even tease her. 'okay,' you say, 'when should i meet your friend, then?'

beatrice gets out her phone and slowly clicks through a few screens, then squints. 'she'll be here in twenty minutes for dinner.' she holds her phone close to your face, not at all steady, but you do make out your name and then ray making the best birria ever (for ava) one right after another.

'should i stay for dinner, then?'

she grins. 'i think i'm falling back asleep. so you should definitely stay. she could use some company.' she stares into space for a minute. 'let me send ava a voice note so they know not to pester you when they get back.'

'maybe a text?'

beatrice just shrugs and sends a meandering three minute long voice note, sort of explaining the situation but mostly proclaiming her undying love, and so you follow up with a coherent text saying, beatrice wants me to meet your friend. if things are going well, can you not third wheel? you owe me, and ava responds with a, FUCK YEAH!!!!! you're the best and ray is the best!! bea is a genius, and then, i'll make up so many totally valid excuses to leave you two alone, and, finally, the patio is very romantic. dig into bea's stash of very expensive wine and whiskey too, in my honor.

you laugh, and tell beatrice that ava was excited about the idea.

'speak of the devil.'

ava puts her tote down when she gets in the front door, a bouquet of flowers poking out from it. 'mm, not quite.' she kisses bea on the top of her head and then proceeds to do the same to you, although you swat her away. 'try god's favorite angel instead.'

'i will never.'

beatrice looks at ava, adoringly, too much for you to stomach sometimes. 'want to go to the balcony? i can nap out there just as easily as in here.'

'totally,' ava says. 'mary, have fun with ray. you can text me when the birria is finished and i'll just pop by to grab some for us. but she really is awesome, even just as a friend.'

'a spontaneous blind date,' you say, although you do have a few butterflies in your stomach. it doesn't feel wrong, to go on a date, although you do feel sad, and longing, because you had something beautiful and it didn't last. but, still: 'this better be as fun as you promise.'

'it definitely will be,' beatrice slurs, and ava looks at you amusedly.

'okay, you're way too high to be trusted in this situation. let's go.'

'i don't need help,' beatrice says, although it's a full task to watch her sit up and get her crutches from their resting place against the side of the couch. but she does it, slowly and unsteadily, and ava puts a careful hand to her low back when she wobbles. but then all is well, and beatrice tries to wink at you and fails, and it makes you laugh. 'have so much fun, mary.'

you promise to try, and you pick up the book ava had been reading earlier, pretending to do something with your hands as you hear them bicker as they very, very slowly make their way up down the hall, but eventually a door closes and it's quiet. hey shannon, you pray, as you often do, i might kiss someone else soon. sorry. but i think you would be happy in this life, especially if she's hot. ava is annoying, but so good; you would be proud of her. beatrice you're always proud of, i know it. i love you, in the next.

it settles something inside you, and when ray lets herself in their front door, your breath catches a little: she has a mess of black curls cut to her ears, and tattoos down both arms, a linen button up only fastened halfway up her chest, a few chains sitting there. she's smaller than you, and she tucks her sunglasses into her shirt and then smiles.

'hey,' she says, 'i'm ray. she/her pronouns. beatrice sent me a very incoherent voice note that her "hot friend mary" was here, finishing out a business trip, and that i should woo you by making dinner tonight.' she holds up her grocery tote. 'hopefully you're mary, because you are in fact very hot.'

you laugh. 'well, i don't know about the last part, but i am mary. beatrice and i go way back.'

'amazing.' she settles, familiar, at the kitchen island. 'do you like to cook? beatrice and ava are disasters.'

'i love to cook.'

she grins. 'good,' she says. 'birria is their favorite, so it's good to know, if you'll be around for a bit.'

she's beautiful, and her forearms are strong and her hands quick when she starts to lay out the ingredients. you tell yourself to be brave: beatrice and ava and their big house full of love, overlooking the ocean. so you stand next to ray, elbows bumping for a moment, and she smiles at you in a way that makes you feel electric. 'i think i just might,' you say.

she nods down at the onions she's setting aside, but her smile doesn't fade at all. 'well, if you want help looking for a place, let me know. unless you want an insane house like this, in which i can't help at all.'

you laugh. 'it is beautiful, though.'

'yeah,' she says. 'i love it here.'

you think, as you let ray explain tasks and her great-grandmother's recipe, as you open a few windows and hear ava's laughter waft in from outside, like the sweet spices you add to the meat, as ray squeezes your hand, just once, after you finish chopping cilantro.

you might kill ava when she comes in to get their plates a few hours later and quips, 'oh good, you're already betrothed. congrats!' before walking away. you throw a chip at her that falls disappointingly short, but she laughs, and you think you just might love it here too.

//

angela

you're finding a table on the patio of your favorite wine bar when you see beatrice sitting at one near the railing, alone, writing in a journal. there's a part of you that doesn't want to interrupt but she's quiet, whenever she stops by for lunch with ava, and she reminds you a little of noel.

she looks up when you stand near, and then genuinely smiles. 'angela,' she says, and stands very properly; it's a breath of fresh air to see young people with manners still. 'what a nice surprise.'

'i can see you're busy.' gesture to her journal. 'so please feel free to say no, but would you mind if i joined you?'

'not at all,' she says, and then pulls out a chair for you before sitting back in her own and closing her journal. 'to tell you the truth, i haven't even ordered any wine yet.'

you laugh, charmed immensely already. 'well, shall we split a bottle? they have my favorite chardonnay here, if you like that.'

'i — yes,' she says. 'ava is working this afternoon, so that would be wonderful. i appreciate your company.'

she's a kid, you realize, all over again with a pang in your chest: when ruth had told you that she had invited someone in her early twenties to come to water aerobics, but then you had met ava and all of your frustration had gone by the wayside. 'likewise.' the server comes, one of your favorites, and asks happily if you'd like your typical glass. 'a bottle, instead, tommy,' you tell him, and he salutes with a grin, which makes beatrice laugh.

'you like this spot?'

'i do,' you say. 'it gets good light.'

she seems to understand what you mean, because she leans back and lets the sun rest on the planes of her face peacefully. ava hadn't stopped talking for days about beatrice cutting her hair, months ago, even more excited than when she herself had shown up with pale purple hair — ridiculous, in a way, but she had been happy and young and so you grant her it all. beatrice's has grown out a bit by now, which ava still talks about, and her muscles, and the freckles across her nose, all exuberant young love — but you can tell, you've always been able to tell, when someone feels comfortable in their skin. the utter joy of being a space where someone can become.

'i love the light here,' she says. 'i grew up in london, and then switzerland, so i've come to appreciate the sun.'

'my wife wanted to move here for that reason alone.' you laugh. 'we met in oakland, but she was so set on los angeles.'

beatrice seems deeply unfazed by wife, and thanks tommy for pouring her wine after you taste yours. 'how long were you together?'

'fifty-four years,' you say. 'married for fifty-two of them.' you roll your eyes. 'legally, for eleven, but i never cared much for that distinction.'

'of course,' she says. 'and, not to sound trite, but i'm sorry, for your loss.'

and it had been a profound one: you had no idea how to get up each morning, until ruth had dragged you to this ridiculous water aerobics class. so you smile, gently. 'noel was a light in this world. the breadth of that love — i wouldn't trade a single minute.'

she swallows, glances down and swirls her wine. 'i can only hope to have the same, with ava.'

you reach out and squeeze her hand. 'if it's all dependent on love, i'm certain you will. ava adores you.'

she sighs, looks into the sun again. 'i used to be a nun.'

you can't help but laugh. 'did you really?'

beatrice nods, and waits a moment before she laughs too. 'it seemed like the only thing that would keep me safe, from — from myself, i suppose. but then, of course, i met ava. a divinity, i suppose, more than i could've ever imagined, really.'

'noel was a reverend,' you say, and remember the benedictions she prayed at your feet: her neat suits and short hair and round-rimmed glasses as she got older, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes when she smiled.

beatrice smiles. 'would you like to tell me about her?'

you would, very much so, and so you do: you met at a protest when you were nineteen and she was twenty-one, and you kissed her two nights later underneath an apple tree just starting to blossom. she put you through law school, working three jobs, and when you finally got a job at a firm and ferociously worked your way up — for her — she went to divinity school. you had many children — beautiful boys in love with each other; beautiful girls in love with themselves — pass through your home, often showing up at noel's church with no family anymore. you fed them, and you had to watch so many of them die. and then — and then the world healed itself, in one particular way, and it was never easy; it has never been easy. you married noel once, in your garden, with your friends, and you married her again in her own church, years and years later, the rainbow flag outside and the stained glass the same kind of holy. it has been hard, and sorrowful, but it was worth it. the joy was worth it.

you see the gentle set of beatrice's shoulders, the way her chest is flat beneath her shirt, and you know she understands.

she sniffles and wipes under her eyes and then squeezes your hand tightly. 'i don't quite know what to say, but — thank you, for sharing. what a beautiful love.'

you clear your throat. 'yes. but, noel made me promise not to live a boring life, or to withhold any of my love. so if you have any aunts who might be interested —' you wiggle your eyebrows — 'please let me know.'

she laughs. 'unfortunately, i don't. but i'll be on the lookout.'

you make a big show of acting disappointed. 'well, i know you're taken — not that that has always stopped me before — but i'll take pity on ava. i like her.'

beatrice blushes, all the way to the tips of her ears, and you grin.

you finish your bottle of wine together, and she tells you about judo and aikido and about ava's new interest in geology; she asks about your greyhound rescue, malcolm, and his newest sweaters. she pays the bill, despite your protests — it's a particular joy of mine to use my homophobic parents' trust fund for queer gifts and adventures.

'bring ava, for dinner sometime,' you say. they have a house on the beach and a love that's so safe, so bright — but the world harms and harms and harms, and they are your children too.

'i would love that,' beatrice says, quiet and grateful. 'i would really love that.'

//

dakota

training service dogs is, in your opinion, the absolute best job in the world. your organization focuses on multi-purpose dogs, for medical and psychologic assistance, often both. it's a challenge, especially if handlers aren't fully equipped. but sometimes, it's your favorite thing ever.

when you first meet ava — and beatrice — you're charmed immediately. ava has a cane but sits down on the floor without hesitation to take korra into her lap, who immediately pinch bites but nuzzles into ava's arms anyway. 'bea,' she says, 'oh my god.'

'her name is korra,' you say, and beatrice laughs, just once, when ava perks up. 'she's small enough that you could change it, if you wanted to, but —'

'i love legend of korra,' ava cuts in. 'bisexual heroine! sick back tattoo. hot brilliant rich girlfriend.' she soots beatrice a wink, which makes her blush. 'i am not changing a perfect name for a perfect girl.'

'well then,' you say, 'do you mind if i sit with you and walk you through the plan?'

'oh,' ava says, 'i can get up. i just got excited.'

you wave her off. 'i like to play with her too. she's so sweet.'

'bea,' ava says with a grin, relieved that your decision was exclusively about the dog and nothing to do with her disability, 'you wore your old jeans just for this occassion.'

beatrice sighs, but she sits without any hesitation and melts, a little, when ava puts a squirming korra in her arms. 'hi, sweet girl,' she says, and runs her hand along korra's soft head and her feather-light spine. then she looks at you, 'do you mind if i record you? just audio. i know you'll give us all the instructions, but i find it helpful to have all forms of processing available so i can understand best.'

ava shoots you a glance sideways, trying not to laugh, but you keep it together. 'sure.'

beatrice and ava come in every session, five minutes early, with korra making incredible progress. eventually, ava comes by herself and happily explains that she's learned how to drive with hand controls on the days she needs to, which is fucking awesome. when you tell her that, she laughs and nods.

korra is a rockstar with her positive reinforcement training, and ava reports every time some new milestone she's reached. you'll work with the both of them for at least another year, but — 'you've done such an incredible job already, ava.'

ava shrugs, scratches behind korra's ears where she's happily sitting by ava's chair, calm and panting a little because she'd just worked on some difficult commands. 'i love to learn.' she shrugs. 'and i really love korra. i guess it's just — it is what it is, right? life and pain and whatnot. and, anyway, she helps.'

korra licks your hand when you offer her a small bite of a hot dog, and you swear she smiles at you. 'yeah, i know she does.'

//

marcus

Just do me a favor and look over the project before you roll your eyes at me, ekugbe texts you. admittedly, she is one of your favorite architects to work with, but she's also your ex. It's a good friend of mine, she follows up with, as if that's a plus. whatever. It's something you'll find meaning in, I promise.

it's annoying, because she's probably right, you think, and then she's definitely right when you open her email a few hours later and see detailed, gorgeous plans to redo a house on the water so that's it's ADA accessible. it's sleek and all clean lines, perfect materials planned; the owners, beatrice gu-knight and ava silva, you read, had clearly spared no expense in their plans, and, inevitably, ekugbe's mock ups are beautiful. you sigh. I'll meet with them, you text. you type out, But not because of you and then erase it, mostly because you sister keeps telling you that you don't need to send out more negative energy into the world.

you call beatrice's number the next day, and she's very proper and very british, and when you meet her at the house later, you're kind of in awe at how stunning it is already.

'we bought it as is,' she explains, 'but my partner, ava, needs it to be accessible for wheelchair usage now.' she doesn't sound sad, not a single regret at having to change one of the simplest, most well-designed and amazing houses you've ever seen. she's inches shorter than you but commanding still, straight backed and quietly confident, dressed in simple linen pants and a t-shirt, a cardigan thrown over her shoulders, a dark green beanie and lighter green glasses, barefoot — rich in the understated way that some people in los angeles are, palpably and casually, and you know that anything you need will be there for you, right away.

'i'd like to keep the doors to the patio, for sure,' she tells you, leading you on a tour. they space is designed to be indoor/outdoor, with doors that open all the way to a small hot tub and a giant patio. 'i'm sure you saw the blueprints ekugbe drew up — and, by the way, sorry, i know you have a complicated past, but she really did say you were the best, especially with projects like this.'

'it's totally fine,' you tell her, and when you see the release of tension in her shoulders, you genuinely mean it. she explains that they'll want to move the primary bedroom and bathroom onto the first floor, down a hallway that currently has two offices. you've contracted on many houses this big before, so the space is something of a blessing. 'that won't be a problem, especially since it doesn't look like the wall between them is load bearing.'

'great,' beatrice says. 'that's what ekugbe told me, so it's good to make sure.'

you go through the rest of the house: they'll need a wheelchair lift along the stairs, which won't be hard to install because it's just one staircase, straight up to a big enough landing that there won't be any issues. she wants to redo their kitchen and bathrooms entirely, so that everything will be reachable and safe. it'll be a huge project, but one you feel — even though your head is spinning at changing a house like this — is important. is a labor of love.

'ava and i will be here for the next two weeks, and then in europe for a few months. what do you think a reasonable timeline is for you? i would like to set up a rental for us, if you need longer than that.' it's not snooty, although the words are. it's matter of fact, just a series of tasks and logistics.

'as long as materials come on time, especially if we order them now, i should be able to do it in that timeframe.'

'wonderful,' she says, and clasps her hands in front of her chest, an endearing gesture. 'well, please send over anything to sign and payment methods, and let me know a start date.'

'will do.'

'also, marcus?'

'hmm?'

'can i help you blow the wall out?' she grins. 'i've always wanted to. i have four black belts, if that helps.'

you just laugh. 'yeah, sure. why not?'

/

ava sits in her chair, pretty, in the same linen pants that beatrice had worn the other day, which is kind of funny and kind of sweet. she looks significantly more sad than beatrice about the state of their house, though, as you lay down tarps in the office to protect the floors.

'i swear i only agreed to this because bea promised you'd let her use a sledge hammer.'

'it'll be beautiful, when it's done.'

she sighs. 'i really do believe you. just, a bummer, you know?'

'my brother uses a chair,' you tell her. 'i like projects like this. and, plus, this house is amazing no matter what. your patio almost brought me to tears.'

she laughs. 'yeah, we fell in love with it right away.'

beatrice walks in in a cutoff tank and work pants, practical boots, and ava groans.

'best roleplay of my life,' she mumbles, and beatrice rolls her eyes.

'thank you for letting me have a little fun, marcus.'

'of course.'

'do i need a hard hat?'

'definitely not,' you manage without laughing, and hand her a sledge hammer.

ava watches, riveted, as you and beatrice go at the wall a few times, and then beatrice pauses and looks toward ava. 'want to get a few hits in? it's very cathartic.'

ava hesitates.

beatrice just pauses, patient, and then says, 'unless your back is hurting, i know you'll be strong enough. it's not that heavy.'

ava grins and wheels forward eagerly, lifts the sledgehammer and then nods. beatrice offers her her safety glasses and then backs away to the threshold of the door. ava swings, just fine, and gets a good chunk of the wall to break off from where beatrice had already been working, and she laughs and looks back at beatrice with a happy, relieved expression.

eventually, your crew takes over, and beatrice and ava take their leave to a rental for a few nights before they go do whatever they're doing in europe. the house comes together beautifully, it really does.

at the end, you call ekugbe, maybe for drinks.

it surprises you, the light you're able to let in.

//

mari

'do you think i'll be faster than bea?'

you laugh, show ava where to put her hands on the wheels of the racing chair for maximum and most efficient torque. 'with practice, for sure.'

'gross,' she says. 'why not right away?'

'it just takes a little getting used to. but i'm certain you will, if you enjoy it.'

'well, you're ripped, so i'm enjoying it so far, that's for sure.'

you roll your eyes; you know both beatrice and ava well enough to know that ava's flirting is fun and entirely harmless. but, still, she's beautiful, so you allow yourself to preen nonetheless.

ava lets out a big breath. 'okay, let's fucking go, right?'

'i'll ride next to you for now, and then you can race beatrice.'

'sick.' she pushes a few times and picks up some speed, and you watch exactly what you'd felt yourself the first time you'd gotten into a chair like this: a big smile spreads across her face as she rounds the corner of the track without any problems. when she slows down you do too, and you're worried for a second before she just sniffles and wipes her cheeks. 'this is... this is so fun?'

'yeah,' you say. 'it's kind of the best.'

'as a kid, after i got hurt, and then, you know, after things started to get worse for me lately, i — i didn't think i could do this, ever. it's just — i feel so full. and so fast!'

'i didn't think i'd get to do this either, after i got hurt.' you'd had a complete spinal cord injury, when you were twenty, a car accident that wasn't your fault. your whole life had changed, in a split second — a track scholarship and rock climbing and snowboarding and judo evaporating, just like that, when you woke up from surgery, or at least that's what you thought. but your big sister had sat by your bedside and researched inpatient rehab, and financing, and outpatient rehab, and then, a fucking miracle in your life: paralympic racing. it's led you to do everything you loved before, just creatively, and, 'now i have four gold medals, so, here we are.'

'yeah,' ava says. 'here we fucking are!'

you reach over and high five her, and you look over to where beatrice is sitting on the bleachers; even from far away you can see her gay ass little smile at ava's joy.

'also, the gold medals?' ava says. 'extremely hot.'

you laugh. 'do you ever stop?'

ava shakes her head. 'hardwired, i'm afraid.' she frowns. 'unless, of course, you're uncomfortable, in which case i will stop immediately.'

'oh, no,' you say, 'keep going. it's fun.'

'i'm an excellent wingwoman, at any time. you just let me know.'

'i'll take you up on that soon, i'm sure.'

she laughs and takes off again, getting the hang of her form and how to lean into turns. eventually, she calls beatrice down from the bleachers; beatrice is probably one of the most terrifying athletes you've ever met, but ava's pretty fast already. they race a few times, laughing by the end, trash talking incessantly, beatrice eventually leaning down to kiss ava, both of them sweaty.

'last one back to the bleachers has to do the dishes tonight,' ava says, and takes off full tilt. she barely stops in time before ramming into the stands, but beatrice is laughing too hard to come anywhere close. it's joy, you think, in the hot sun. real joy.

//

mother superion

'so,' ava says, fidgeting in front of you, shifting from one foot to the other, rocking up on her toes. she's gotten older, a few years enough for you to be able to tell the subtle differences.

'yes, ava?'

'okay, i know this is stupid and antiquated, but, well...'

'is this a crisis of any kind?'

she shakes her head.

'then just breathe.'

she takes in a deep breath and lets it out, then sits on the bench next to you when you pat the space. 'i love beatrice.'

'i know.'

'i, well, i guess i'm asking you if i can marry her? i want to propose, and i'll do it, whatever you think, but — it would mean a lot, to me, to have your blessing.'

you hold out your hands and wait for her to take both. there is something holy in her back, something that you had thought was the most sacred thing in the world until you met her. but there is something holier, consecrate, in the way she loves — beyond the highest order you have ever known. in the way she loves you all, and life, but especially in the way she loves beatrice, one of your favorite people in the world. she died for it. you know, in a way that makes you ache, she would do it again.

but the war is over. the war is over, and you have watched them both become.

'there is nothing in this life that would make me happier than to bless your marriage, ava.'

'oh,' she breathes out, runs a hand through her hair, long now, with the tips dyed pink — just for fun! — and then smiles. 'okay. well, great. just gotta get bea to say yes then.'

you don't want to be unkind — you can feel the halo humming with ava's very genuine nerves — and so you don't laugh. instead, you ask, 'do you have a plan? a ring?'

ava lights up, and the halo's hum shifts to comfortable, warm. they'll go to switzerland, she tells you, and pulls up a picture of the ring on her phone — simple and elegant and handsome, all at once. she wraps you in a hug as you tell her so.

'i love you, ava,' you say.

she sniffles. 'i really love you.'

you feel the halo against your hand, through her sweater. 'please send me a save the date.'

//

'ava,' you say, as ava paces around their bedroom. 'bea is going to be right out there, waiting for you. after everything, you cannot possibly be nervous about this.'

she shakes her head. 'about marrying bea? definitely not.' she's in her dress, flowy lace and cotton, off-white because i'm certainly not a virgin, she had said while she was looking, and than had laughed and winked as you had rolled your eyes. 'i'm worried about the halo going off.'

you want to laugh, so hard, but it actually is an issue: most of ava and bea's friends and family don't know anything about the halo, mostly for their protection. 'i'm sure you can get all the glowing out on your honeymoon.'

ava does laugh, then, relieved. 'that's for sure.'

and it's beautiful: you get to stand in front of the altar your friend built for her partner, and you get to pray for their whole lives to be full of this stunning, soft love. they say their vows, and beatrice cries the entire time, which eventually makes ava cry, and then you cry, and then you all laugh.

'by the power vested in me by god, and the state of california,' you say, 'i now pronounce you wives.' ava laughs, delighted, and turns to bea, then looks at you impatiently. you roll your eyes. 'go ahead,' you say.

ava wastes no time, leaning forward to capture bea's lips in a sweet kiss, which beatrice lets linger long enough for a few good-natured wolf whistles from the crowd. ava kisses bea's forehead and they smile, alone in their own universe, before turning to everyone. there are cheers and you're pretty sure everyone was crying.

you get drunk on champagne at the reception and cry even more when you see beatrice in her tang jacket, when she tells you that you were right: there's no shame in loving ava; there never has been. and, a miracle, ava is hers. there are things more certain to you than faith.

'your marriage is going to last annoyingly long,' you tell her. 'i'm sure of it.'

she holds you tight. 'i'm sure of it too.'

//

salma

your aunts are the fuc—freaking coolest. not only do they visit often, but you get to visit them in california, where they live in a big house on the beach and sometimes take you to disneyland. your aunt bea teaches you to surf, and your aunt ava teaches you how to make a bunch of virgin cocktails — which you find very fun — and they both sit and do puzzles with you whenever you want, even if your brother gets bored.

your grandmother — you guess, you never met her and you've never even talked to her, but she was your dad's and beatrice's mother — dies one day. you don't really care; she apparently was a huge asshole to your aunt when she was little. your dad picks you up from school like normal, and you wait impatiently for asaad to make his way out.

your dad takes you to get ice cream and then tells you that she died. you don't care, which is maybe bad, but you don't owe her anything. people can be mean for no reason, to someone like you, to someone like your aunt bea, so you don't care.

your dad is quiet for a few days, and then your aunts visit. you do a little double take when your aunt bea takes her beanie off and her hair is shorter than you've ever seen it, but you hug her quickly, as tight as you can, your head reaching the middle of her chest — when your cat died in third grade your mom had taught you about grief, how it lasts a long time and it's okay to feel, how different cultures have different ways of expressing it. you hug your aunt ava too, and she ruffles your hair and cups your cheek. 'what's up, beautiful?' she says, and it makes you feel it, from someone so pretty: beautiful.

when you get older, your aunt bea will help you change your pronouns, and pick a new name — peace, you decide on — and she calls you her niece, which you love. when you get older, she'll be even more amazing to you, the way she's so kind in a world that hasn't been, the way she loves your dad and your brother and your mom, the way she loves your aunt ava.

for now, it's late and your aunt ava is asleep in the guest room, and your dad had kissed your forehead and gone off to the bathroom he shares with your mom. you go downstairs to get a glass of water, and you see your aunt sitting on the couch, peacoat rumpled and very still and, if your dad's breath was anything to go by, probably pretty drunk.

she looks up when she hears you, and then smiles gently, a little unfocused. you sit next to her, rub your hand along her buzzed hair with a laugh, and it gets her to laugh too. 'you look cool.'

she kisses your forehead. 'that's very kind.'

you play with her fingers, with the ring there, warm even though it's cold outside. 'you know,' you say, 'you've made the world safer for me.'

the sound that leaves her is between a laugh and a sob. you want to be smaller, just for a moment, so you could climb into her lap like you used to when she was little.

'i'm really sorry your mother sucked balls.'

then there's definitely a laugh: 'did aunt ava teach you that?'

you grin into her shoulder. 'i can neither confirm nor deny.'

she tugs you to her, buries her face in your hair for a moment and then wipes her cheeks.

'i'm glad i'm like you,' you say, the best you can for now.

'oh, darling,' she says, then swallows so she doesn't start crying again, you're pretty sure, 'i'm so glad. you are such a light in this world. don't let anyone let you believe you aren't wonderful.'

'i won't,' you say, a prayer, like you kneel and understand with your mom; a promise.

'and, you can always call me.'

'ew, on the phone?'

she laughs. 'or text, if you must.'

you burrow into her side even further. 'i'll call, aunt bea. i always will.'

//

g-d

of course, if there's anything you know, it's blessings.

you know beloved; you know holy. people call you by different names, all falling short, all trying to grasp at you. you know beloved, and worship, and belief.

you look down on them sometimes, because you can. ava — her name the familiar of eve; the meaning in a sacred language, life; something divine against her will in her back; one of your children who had faced more cruelty than she should have — laughs, every day. even on days that hurt for her, she smiles and she laughs and there is a love there: for your world, for its waves and the sun and stars and moon; she, too, sees that it is good. beatrice, gentle and unsure and certain, prays to you still, and to ava, which you don't begrudge her. she worships every day, the most faithful on earth.

of course, there are things you let run their course, the small joys and small miseries: swimming in the ocean, chocolate cake, the first fall of snow; traffic jams and broken wrists and lilith. there are some things even you can't entire shift: ava's broken back and the heaviness in beatrice's mind sometimes. but you watch them, from time to time, in their house on a beach that brings them wonder, when they visit the mountains and fall asleep in front of a warm fireplace, listening to a record that skips before you step in and turn the machine off.

you'll let them grow old together, of course — greying hair and ava's impatience with politics and beatrice's stiff knees in the cold. there's time, for the halo and for all of it, but ava died to save the world, once. ava died for love, and she lives for it too.

in this life, they say to each other, quietly and often. you let things run its course but you step in, from time to time: you will give them peace. they'll want more of them, greedy, and perhaps you'll let them — and the next and the next and the next.

but, of course, this life, this life — you make sure it's a good one.

[rollercoasterwords]

I don’t have anyone else to ask, so here I am. What do you think about the term “boy lesbian” ? I just saw a TikTok where a person said they were a boy lesbian not a woman lesbian? I got the same vibe from that as when a lot of people on TikTok tried to say identifying as lesbian was excluding an it should be called non men loving non men?

well my short answer is that i think boy lesbians are cool + sexy + i wish they would all come over 2 my house so we could kiss w tongue <3 however i am sensing from ur message that this is perhaps a concept that u are a bit wary or skeptical about (? might be reading tone incorrectly but that is the vibe i'm getting lol) so i will put a longer answer under the cut:

so i feel like what you're asking when you say "what do you think about this" is essentially "do you think people should be able to call themselves 'boy lesbians'" which. is a source of online discourse that i typically try to avoid because i think discourse about who's "allowed" to identify a certain way in the queer community is basically pointless and does more harm than good. like, at the end of the day, there's really no use in policing who's "allowed" to call themselves what, because people can literally identify themselves however they want and you can't control that, because identity is an inherently personal and subjective experience. and so anytime people do start trying to strictly police identity + draw clear boundaries around who's "allowed" to use which labels, usually the result is just alienating and ostracizing other queer people who we should be in community with, as we share overlapping political struggles.

but. looking specifically at the term "boy lesbian" (and terms like it). i know a lot of people immediately get up in arms going "the whole point of lesbian is that there's NO BOYS!!!!!" but. personally i do not think that's true. every label currently used by the queer community is historically and contextually specific; most labels like 'gay' 'lesbian' and 'trans' are umbrella terms that include broad and varied communities of people who do not all share exactly the same identities or experiences. and the label 'lesbian' as an umbrella term has not always been used + conceptualized historically the way it's used today; it has also not always been 'exclusively women who aren't attracted to men' or whatever other definition people try to claim. many lesbians, especially gender nonconforming lesbians, have complex + nuanced + fraught relationships to gender + womanhood, and there has specifically always been a lot of overlap in (using today's terms) transmasculine and lesbian communities. leslie feinberg's stone butch blues comes immediately to mind as one example of lesbian experience that does not align simply or perfectly with womanhood and is much more nebulously transmasculine. at the end of the day, it's impossible to draw strict definitional boundaries around umbrella terms like "lesbian," because to do so will always inevitably fail to account for certain people who do identify with the term--and what right does anyone have to tell someone else that their personal experience of identity isn't "allowed?"

like - defining lesbianism as either centered around womanhood or positioned against manhood both inevitably devolve into gender essentialism. if you say "lesbians are women who love women," that requires you to provide a strict definition of "woman," something that is essentially impossible without resorting to gender essentialism. if you say "lesbians are nonmen who love nonmen," then you run into the same problem with defining "men." this is because both "men" and "women" are also historically + contextually specific umbrella terms used to define social categories of people, and not some sort of pre-existing inherent natural identities.

so then you might be saying--but wait a second, if all these labels are so fluid and nonspecific and personally defined, then what's the use of labeling anything!!! aren't you just saying that none of it means anything?!

no, not at all! what i'm saying here is that trying to draw strict boundaries around labels that have to do with gender + sexuality is at best pointless and at worst harmful, because gender and sexuality are inherently personal experiences and you can't police someone's own sense of self, nor should you try to. but there are three areas where labels are useful and do matter:

1 - personal value

labels are useful for individuals trying to understand themselves and how they relate to the world. people can find comfort or joy or simple understanding by labeling themselves in relation to the world around them; this sense of labeling is deeply personal and up to each individual in terms of how/to what extent they want to partake in it

2 - community

umbrella terms like "woman" "lesbian" "man" "trans" etc are all useful in socially specific contexts for identifying shared experiences + building community. if i say to someone "i'm a lesbian," and they say "oh i'm a lesbian too," i'm not going to assume that we have the exact same experiences of gender + sexuality that fit some made-up set of rules, but i am going to recognize that this person has certain experiences which overlap with my own, and we can build a community around those experiences. this is the way that basically any label works in a social context--if i say "i'm american" and someone else says "oh me too," i wouldn't just assume that we've had the exact same "american" experiences, because america is a vast country with a huge diversity of people + lifestyles + environments etc etc, y'know? social labels like these are useful for identifying broad overlap in experiences, but because they encompass such broad groups of people it's silly to try and make strict rules about who's "allowed" in the group--especially if your goal is to build community

3 - identifying + naming political struggles + oppression

this follows along the same lines as point 2 -- basically, most queer labels function as umbrella terms meant to bring together people of varied experiences + backgrounds who share common sites of oppression + common political struggles. like, historically, this has been the center of queer community-building--the fact that we are all being oppressed by the same people in overlapping ways. when i tell you "i'm a lesbian," that sentence does not tell you all that much about my own, individual, personal experience of gender. but it does tell you a lot about how i am politically positioned in the world and the kinds of political struggles i might face, and that's what makes that label so socially meaningful. like, the purpose of these labels is not to give everybody insight to the nuances of personal identity; it's to build community + identify our shared struggles with each other.

and i think one reason this discourse gets so heated in online spaces is that people get really angry about the idea of, like, "well what if someone calls themself a lesbian to infiltrate lesbian spaces!!!" which. i mean a lot of that fearmongering is rooted in transphobia quite honestly, but. at the end of the day, if someone is identifying themself as a lesbian, i'm going to assume that they have a good personal reason for doing so, and what matters to me will be knowing that we share a political struggle. i trust that if i encounter someone who's just trolling and "pretending" to be a lesbian or whatever i'll be able to recognize it and just....choose not to interact with that person. but honestly i don't even really think that actually happens--like i said, i think a lot of the fear that drives people to try and create strict definitional boundaries around the term "lesbian" is rooted in transphobia.

and i think something else driving a lot of this online discourse surrounding queer labels is like....this emphasis on identity labels as primarily a personal identifier rather than identity labels as primarily a community-building tool. like, there seems to be an emphasis particularly in online spaces + amongst certain groups of queer people to really want to micromanage identity + create specific rules + definition for each label so that, like, you're getting as much personal information as possible about someone who tells you that label, because you know they're following these detailed rules. but like. a) you truly are not entitled to personal information about anyone's individual experience of gender and/or sexuality and b) that's not the point of these labels!!!!! like i promise you it is so much more important to just accept that these are umbrella terms with nebulous boundaries so that you can take a step back and evaluate the social context in which they're being used in order to then build community. it is okay if there aren't strict rules and definitions! what matters more is being able to look at a specific contexts + the way a broad term can be applied differently in those specific contexts.

anyway. last thing i will say to this whole point is that i personally am someone who identifies to a certain extent with terms like boy lesbian or boydyke, in that my own sense of gender is much more centered around dyke than it is womanhood and i don't necessarily experience lesbianism as something centered around women/womanhood. my lesbianism feels more closely tied to gendernonconformity, genderqueerness, and overlaps a lot with experiences i've heard transmasculine people speak about. but lesbianism is still central to my identity, as i am politically positioned in society as a lesbian and it is the best umbrella term to give people a sense of my identity at a glance, and thus generally the best term for me to position myself within queer spaces + to seek out community. so i understand on a personal level why people might identify as a 'boy lesbian,' and hopefully from this personal anecdote you can understand why someone might too! if u have any questions or anything feel free to shoot me another message; i'm trying to cover a lot of ground in this response so i didn't fully expand on like. every single point bc that would have taken forever lol

[rjalker]

idk if anybody has said this to u yet but thank u for spreading awareness about how the public domain actually works, if i saw one more "you Have to call him willie and he HAS to be black and white" post i think id have a conniption fit

Thank you! It's very frustrating seeing all the fearmongering misinformation. I've been looking forward to this for the last year, but somehow I didn't realize that so many people had no idea what the Public Domain was at all...

I'm hoping people will actually put in the effort to do research and learn about these things so we don't have this problem every year, rather than everyone jumping on the "lets play attack dog for Disney's lawyers for free by screaming copyright infringement at every drawing of Mickey Mouse" bandwagon.

Like. It is baffling in the extreme how many people have instantly turned into corporate attack dogs over things that they do not in any way understand, but somehow they think they're being anticapitalist by doing so? They think they're being progressive by leaping to fearmonger and uphold Disney's stranglehold over the Public Domain by spreading fearmongering and misinformation that...literally didn't even exist before five days ago.

People now think that because Mickey Mouse is Public Domain, this somehow magically means it's literally illegal to draw Mickey Mouse in any way. It's confounding. And its just showing how deep the corporate propaganda runs. And I'm really really hoping people will start waking up and realizing how fucked up their reactions to this is and start actually learning about the Public Domain instead of immediately just spreading blatant misinformation about it that a five second google search will dispel.

I've now had to see four people proclaiming, with utmost self-righteous confidance, that celebrating the Public Domain, and celebrating that Mickey Mouse is Public Domain, is "corporate bootlicking for Disney" and "free advertising for Disney".

Because these people saw everyone saying not to give JK Rowling free advertising by continuing to celebrate her characters when the books have bigotry baked into them, and now think that they can just say the same thing about anything no matter what the context, even when they have absolutely no idea what they're talking about.

Disney has done so much to destroy awareness of the Public Domain that people are now convinced that celebrating the Public Domain...is capitalistic greed. Really makes you wish werewolf transformations were in real life because god fucking damn do I want to maul some billionaires.

I am once again begging everyone, as a bare bones beginning, to their understanding of the Public Domain, to go watch this presentation by the Internet Archive from 2019 if you're able to. (Some of them have subtitles, some of them don't, I'm going to ask if they have a transcript)

Here's a relevant clip from video 14.

[ID: A short video clip of Joseph Gratz at the 2019 Internet Archive conference about the Public Domain, sitting in a yellow chair as he speaks, saying and gesturing along with his words: "That's the, uh, official, maybe impractical strategy. The unofficial, um, more practical strategy is...be bold! Right?" [applause] "If you're acting in good faith, people are not going, ah, most copyright holders are people of good faith, who do not want to go after people who are acting in good faith, who are not harming their legitimate economic interests. And so if you're doing something, even pretty boldly, that is, that you believe and have a basis to believe, uh, and a reasonable basis to believe is in the Public Domain, or is fair use -- going out and doing it is the way, um, is the way forward, rather than being endlessly afraid." His speech ends, there's a short pause, then more applause. End ID.]

[pineappleciders]

Can you do sp main 4 with a reader who is trans mtf?? I really like your ftm one and since my sister is trans mtf she would love to read this x

sp main 4 finding out reader is trans mtf

A/N: i am so glad you liked it and i hope your sister likes this too!!!! i know this is really similar to the ftm one mainly because i dont think they'd react too differently! link to ftm vers here

also i wanted to add that i usually write with a fem reader differently than a g/n or masc reader!! mostly because they're like 4th graders and the whole girls vs boys thing. so i'm sorry if they're... colder??? idk how to describe it😭

stan marsh

he's just like "oh" in a surprised voice

doesn't really care but might ask a few,,, personal questions. he's genuinely curious and he doesn't mean harm. asks about what it means and why you transitioned

"how did you find out? like what does it feel like?"

he might encourage you to talk to wendy and the girls if you haven't become friends with them already! he says this because he knows it'd probably be nice for you to hang out with other girls so they can dress you up and help you feel like you fit in

also puts in a good word to wendy for you and u two become friends :)

again you coming out might make him question his own gender. he just gets really confused because he's never had the chance to explore himself and having a trans friend makes him more comfortable to do so!!

might ask you questions at first about how you found out, but other than that he just treats you like how he normally does; probably forgets that you're trans if anything

kyle broflovski

kyle never really hangs out with girls in the first place, the closest girl friends he has being you and sometimes wendy. he is very awkward around girls .

so you don't have to worry about him treating you like more of a bro after you come out, because he doesn't. if he were to treat you any differently he would treat you like more of a girl if anything if that makes sense

like he doesn't mean to exclude you but he figures it'd make you feel better to not be grouped with the boys??

"yeah, i get that. sometimes i feel like i was made to be a tall black man. it's really hard to play basketball as a 4'3" jewish white boy."

mostly, he doesn't really care, and he probably actually would prefer not to hear you talk about it. like i mean he prefers to not hear about 'assigned genders' because it makes him think of genitalia and honestly he does not like to think about that

so yeah, he's a little confused but he tries his best to understand, and he might be appreciative that you opened up about it, but for the most part he's just like "good for you" and moves on

eric cartman

similar to the ftm one, since he's known you as a girl all this time that no matter how hard he wants to misgender you he never truly sees you as anything other than a girl

he'll call you names and tease you for it but at the end of the day he still sees you as a cootie-ridden girl

he kicks you out of games because 'girls can't play games' and the others say you can play and he gets all pissy

he shoos you away at lunch not because you're trans but because you're a girl. he would rather be caught dead than hanging out with a chick. so in a way he's kind of accidentally an ally LOL

he gets uncomfortable when the topic gets brought up and would prefer not to think about it. he genuinely wants to stay out of it because he does NOT want to know what people have down under. absolutely hates thinking about it

"dude, i already live in a hot dog. i don't need to have any more wieners in my face."

kenny mccormick

he looks at you funny all confused.

"mph, nmph? mphph? (wait, what? really?)"

"mmphmph, mph mphph mmf mmphh.. (jesus, dude, i never would've guessed.)"

he's genuinely really confused because all the stereotypes of trans girls he's seen on tv and they all depict them looking super masculine and stuff. he's never really met a trans person so he's confused when you're just some normal kid

he's supportive, but he doesn't really care. he pats you on the back and says cool and then goes back to like. playing mario kart or whatever you guys were doing

he doesn't know anything about what it means so he might ask some questions about what dysphoria is and transitioning and all that. he will listen genuinely but he might fall asleep. he actually does care though!!!

thinks it's interesting but never brings it up again or talks about it and treats you like normal. honestly he would be very happy to play princesses with you as princess kenny

you have sleepovers and he acts all girly. like you do his hair and nails and dress him up and he kicks his feet having the time of his life

[pretty-chaotic-world]

if my BPD can scream

1. I wish i could have a normal love... but no, my brain wants to worship every little detail of you until it drives me insane

2. sorry i pushed you away i felt abandoned and suicidal 

3. I’m sick of going to bed and knowing things won’t be better tomorrow 

4. I'll ask you thousands times if you really love, please don't get annoyed

5. I'll create "drama" and mishaps only to feel like I'm in home

6. i’m afraid that one day my anger will overshadow the little love i still have left for the world

7. I feel numb. No tears, no anger, nothing. Just going through the same day again and again. I would rather just sleep without waking up.

8. I'm so tired of everytime one small argument or inconvenience breaks out I want to end it and self destruct, it's so draining. 

9. I want to stop feeling anything and when i actually don't it breaks my heart but I can't cry it out.

10. "its all in your head" well duh where tf else is it gonna be??? in my fucking kidneys????

11. I am constantly between wanting people to care about me and wanting them not to so I can hurt myself without feeling guilty 

12. Psychiatrist told me there is no cure for bpd and I've to change myself. Well why cant they just let me die then?

13. Until you live with bpd you'll never know what it's like to be too much and not enough at the same time.

14. i know im constantly too much for everyone but sometimes i just want to be enough for someone

15. if he will leave me, my next diagnosis will be of "sociopath"

16. im so jealous of all the people who see him and touch him and talk to him every single day it should be me me me me 

17. oh I got my hair coloured. why? because I can't hurt myself anymore 

18. "you're so distant" because you can't handle my abandonment issues.

19. My younger self disappoint me a lot. like why were you begging people to stay in your life? ohh no worries I know the answer

20. I wanna throw a plate against the wall, stab a knife through my hand, destroy my laptop with a hammer, smash my door in with an axe and spray graffiti all over the walls of my room 

21. Why shouldn’t I be mad? Why can’t I just be angry and be allowed to feel it? Why can’t I burn everything down?

22. I have to watch my mouth every fucking second to make sure I don't destroy every relation I have coz apparently social life matters!!

23. Isnt it fucked up how he got away with every horrible thing he made me experience and I’m the one who has to live with myself feeling absolutely fucking worthless 

24. I don't deserve food and love. im a horrible person.

25. this is how my eating cycle goes

feeling weak coz i haven't ate anything -> eat -> purge -> feeling guilty after purging -> eat more -> feeling guilty after eating so much -> cry coz you don't know what's happening

26. the diagnosis makes me believe I'm not insane just lil emo ig!! NOOOO YOU'RE INSANE

27. “don’t let it bother u” baby i’m gonna be bothered by this for the next 10 years 

28. if I tell you I love you its equivalent to I can kill someone for you

29. Actually upon further inspection that shit really hurt my feelings 

30. I don't dive into insecurity anymore, i drown in self-loathe

31. i shut up in between group convo coz I know I'll talk invaluable shit and nobody really cares what I say until it's psychology class

32. "if you are fully aware of yourself, why do you keep acting like that?" slapping self awareness on top of bpd only grants the ability to watch yourself self-destruct straight from the vip section thats all it does literally

33. “Where do you see yourself in the future” building a cult for mentally ill people 

34. ofc I've a praise kind i was ignored as a child

35. I'm much better than I was before. you know why coz I don't to air now and don't see monsters walking by side all the time

36. No I don't want to self harm anymore I need to kill that fucking monster

37. Don't mind me, I'm just casually sabotaging all my positive relationships with negative delusions because my life doesn't feel real unless something dramatic and destructive is constantly occurring 

38. i don’t care i don’t care i don’t care (im going to sob my fucking eyes out)

39. “Stop making your disorder your personality” I have a fucking personality disorder for god sake

40. turning my mental illnesses into kinks and calling it the BDSM-5 

41. "destroy something precious while you're in rage" ohh yeaa and then I'll do that again and again 

42. what I hate most about my BPD is the fact that I have started doubting every emotion that I’ve ever felt in my life, whether it’s love, my grief through multiple traumas, or my anger, & it’s so saddening. It has actually led me to start questioning my reality.

43. if I need medication to stay alive, am I really meant to be here?

44. it's either be alone without 75% of my symptoms, or be with someone and display the most horrendous unstable awful version of myself. why do i have to choose between love & happiness or peace & stability?

45. That fucking bpd rage where everyone's voices makes you want to scream and every noise around you makes you want to sh and you're so mad you can almost feel the cuts everywhere 

46. getting worked up to the point of becoming physically ill (throwing up/stomach issues etc) because you felt rejected/abandoned by your favourite person  

47. i wish my trauma made me kind as everyone says but i’m becoming what i fear the most- a monster.

48. imagine getting diagnosed with a personality disorder and the only visible representation of that disorder is an animated horse man, a sociopathic sitcom character from philadelphia, and darth vader

[hyunjining]

hi, how are you doing? :)

getting right into it: you made a comment a while back on where you could possibly write an entire essay on how Larry and Larrries changed the 'landscape of fandom'.

this post: https://at.tumblr.com/larryalbum/709204686830452736/t5742yilryne

(hopefully the link works)

Gaylorlikeme continued onto your post, going further with a real-world application, and I'm thankful that it was really put into words as such. Homophobia is the root cause of a lot backlash when it comes to anything other than a W/M relationship.

Back to what you said, it got me thinking a bit more of what that means. I just wanted to ask if you might keep me in mind if you ever write more about it or actually write an essay one day. I love to read other's thoughts, especially on this topic. As well as having a conversation about it.

I'm really new to being aware of Larry and everything that the ID Fandom has to offer so your sentence just got me wondering about how Larries could have changed Fandom as a whole when it comes to speculation and shipping versus like characters. For example: Kirk/Spock and Dean/Cas or Sherlock/John.

Yeah, it's just really fascinating. Am I on the right track of what you meant by that?

thank u so much! hope you're doing well

hi, i’m alright, thank you 💕

i was kind of joking about actually writing an essay but a lot of people have actually expressed interest so you never know lol. for now i am open to talking more about it because i find it super fascinating.

you’re pretty spot on about what i meant. i think the major backlash that larries have received (spearheaded by 1d’s team, the members of 1d and everyone associated with them) for believing that harry and louis are gay and together has affected every corner of the internet. if you interact with any other fandom, you can almost guarantee that there will be people imploring you not to act like larries, meaning not to speculate on any real person’s sexuality under any circumstances and not to “ship real people.” and of course by that they mean to never speculate that anyone is queer or in a queer relationship, because people have no problem shipping men and women together based on pap pics or brief interactions or them being literal toxic exes lmao. i mean, just look at what happened with andrew garfield and amelia dimoldenberg after that one red carpet interaction: they went viral and fans, news outlets, and other celebrities were openly talking about shipping them.

and i think this deep fear of being perceived as larrie-adjacent has created a weird and honestly harmful status quo where people refuse to acknowledge people who are very clearly queercoding but are not out/haven’t literally said the words “i am queer.” so if you’re not out, you get accused of queerbaiting, of stealing queer roles from “actual” queer people, etc. people think they’re being respectful but they end up harming other queer people and creating this pressure for everyone to come out if they want to live their lives the way they want to. that’s what happened to kit connor (and yet people still misunderstand that situation and turn around and use it as evidence to not speculate on people’s sexualities, when the whole problem was people thinking he was STRAIGHT and playing a bi character, not people thinking he was queer).

and on the topic of heartstopper, people in that fandom are literally telling each other not to say that joe locke and sebastian croft are dating when they very clearly are and it’s just hilarious to me. you can’t tell me that if they were a man and a woman, people wouldn’t immediately assume they’re dating. we can use louis’ most recent stunt (or really any stunt, especially most of harry’s) as an example here: he was papped holding hands with this girl once and there are already update accounts about their “relationship” even though there’s been no official confirmation of them dating.

and i absolutely think this attitude is because of larry. one direction became a thing right as twitter was really taking off, and the band used twitter as their main source of interacting with fans and cultivating their image online. never before had there been something like larry, where people were believing that two male members of the same hugely popular, mainstream band were legitimately dating each other and compiling evidence to support this fact. and the subsequent reaction from their team was so uniquely aggressive that it made larry even more widely known. and so, cut to today, even though 1d hasn’t been a band for almost 8 years (jesus), anyone who’s been on the internet for any amount of time knows about it. but the main thing they know, if they never look any deeper, is how utterly hated we are and how we supposedly ruined harry and louis’ friendship. and they of course don’t want to ruin the relationships of their favorite singers, actors, etc, so they’ve created the environment i previously described.

it’s pretty awful, really. especially because a large amount of larries are queer themselves. but that’s where we are.

thank you so much for your message! i hope that answered your question and i hope you’re doing well as well 🥰

[plato-repulsed-culture-is]

sorry if this is a weird question, but um, a girl i know asked me out. Shes aplatonic but alloromantic and allosexual. I do like her back, but im a bit worried.. ive dated a guy before who didnt have friends and what ended up happening is that i had to support him 100% of the time when something bad happened and i had to be with him after school every day because i was the only person he talked to and he would get lonely otherwise. He even threatened to do bad things to himself if i went to a friend's sleepover because it made him feel bad. Im really worried that something like this would repeat... it lowkey traumatized me i think. Is this a valid concern or are aplatonic people different and they dont really need much emotional support compared to non-aplatonic people? Or was my ex just uniquely an asshole? Thank u so so much if u respond

I am prefacing this with a disclaimer that this blog was never for giving people advice, especially when they view aplatonics with such suspicion and are not actually asking any advice related to plato repulsion which is what this blog is about. I can also only go off of your statements here to draw conclusions, and I am assuming you are stating the truth here (especially as this is online, I know there is a possibility people can lie, but may also be telling the truth.). Also, we are not responsible for anything that happens to you emotionally or otherwise if you make decisions based off of this advice, because thats not within our control.

From what you said, your ex sounds like he was being rather toxic and manipulative towards you. That kind of behaviour is harmful (threatening self harm as a form of control, trying to control who someone spends time with, and not respecting peoples boundaries regarding interaction or emotional support, are all harmful actions.) and nobody should be acting that way towards others, we're sorry that happened to you. You also don't need to be concerned that someone will act this way towards you just bc theyre aplatonic. Your concern is valid, but it is in no way something that will inherently apply to aplatonics.

If you are concerned about whether this person has unmet social needs then you should just ask her about her social needs and emotional needs and what she expects in a relationship, and communicate about your needs and emotions regarding these things too. If its possible to, maybe mention that you have past issues or trauma in relationships which is why you want to be careful about dating, while not making it seem like aplatonicism is inherently a reason you think someone might hurt you(because it's not).

Set boundaries about what amount of time you want to spend with someone you're dating, and state your limits regarding how much you are okay with emotionally supporting someone / what topics you are ok with talking about / etc. . Don't assume that someone will be toxic or abusive towards you just because they're aplatonic. Its not really like your ex was inherently aplatonic just because he didn't have friends, and it may even be more likely he was alloplatonic.

Some aplatonics have and/or want friends but some dont, and moreover, if someone doesnt have friends by choice, that's very different from someone who is lonely because they don't have friends and mistreats a partner because of it. I will also add here that I don't intend to malign mental health issues just because it sounds like your ex may have had them (as you mentioned loneliness - which is different from just being alone or even liking solitude) ; mental health issues do not innately make someone abusive or toxic, and one can have mental health issues and still be respectful to people.

Someone without any mental health issues can also still very much be abusive or toxic towards others. And honestly, if you associate the concept of aplatonicism itself with this trauma then maybe its not in the best interest of you or the other person to date? And if it applies maybe it could be possible that you are simply not ready to date someone again after what happened, which is also okay, but I don't intend to assume that or be harsh in stating it as a possibility. I will also add that not having friends is not a 'red flag'. If someone has a preference to date/ be involved with people who have friends, that's okay, but not having friends is not inherently a 'red flag'.

Some aplatonics may not get lonely if they don't talk to people (but this can also be true of alloplatonics), and just because someone is aplatonic doesnt mean they will expect their partner to support them all the time to an unhealthy level or to an extent that crosses their boundaries. I will also add that there is no surefire way to tell whether someone will be abusive or toxic, although if they cross your boundaries or are disrespectful to you from the start, its worth staying away from them. Even ppl who are very kind to you initially may at some point abuse you or mistreat you, and theres no way to tell for sure whether or not this will happen because thats kind of how social relationships of any kind are.

But don't profile aplatonics as inherently more likely to be abusive or toxic (I don't know if this is intentional on your part, but hearing the word 'aplatonic' and making all these assumptions about how one may be in a relationship wounds like either this and/or like a trauma trigger extending to the concept of aplatonicism). Not all aplatonics even approach social relationships the same way, and even those who don't have friends are still capable of respecting boundaries in relationships they engage in. I wouldn't say that aplatonic people don't have emotional needs, but people in general have varying social needs and emotional needs. Some people who don't want friends may specifically not have a social drive towards having friends, but this may also apply to people who want friends.

If someone is happy without having friends then they probably don't seek emotional or social fulfillment from friendship. They may have other relationship types even if they are aplatonic (such as familial , romantic, sexual, alterous, etc.) (I don't know if you and this girl are monogamous are not but if you are intending to be monogamous that obviously is excluding sexual and/or romantic then) , and I will add that people don't always need social relationships/ bonds for emotional support. Some people may process emotions through journalling, or may go to a therapist, or such.

Some people may have people they talk to sometimes but don't call them their friends. Having friends does not ever guarantee anyone emotional support, and neither does any other relationship. It just so happens that a lot of people end up mutually (i.e. more or less both ppl give the other emotional support, it doesnt have to be equal so much as it is respecting the boundaries of both people. It is also possible that people may be incompatible in this regard) giving emotional support due to just being around people they are close to and also due to having some kind of emotional connection.

Anyways, long answer short, aplatonicism doesn't say anything about someone's social needs or emotional needs, and neither does alloplatonicism, and its often better to communicate with people you are close to or are looking to be close to, about important aspects regarding relationships.

(Also stating here that this is not an advice blog, we will be deleting any asks seeking advice from now on. If you want you can send in asks as reply to this response, as long as you aren't asking for more advice)

Anyways I hope it works out for you, whatever you decide to do.

(Additional disclaimer - to anyone who sees this post - do NOT suggest that 'narc abuse' 'borderline abuse' or whatever is real, do not imply mental health issues cause ppl to inherently be abusive, and do not treat having no friends as a 'red flag', regardless of platonic orientation or favorability)

[lunagojo]

Umm hello! Only if you could and if it's not too much ask, could i request the hashiras seeing reader (who's also a hashira) as an older sibling figure?? I hope you are having an excellent day! :D

a/n: Absolutely! Not too much at all! Hope you don't mind these being a bit short as there's a lot to write for :p Please enjoy!! (also why are these all so saaaaadddd omg ;n;)

The Hashira w/ an Older Sibling Figure

GIYUU TOMIOKA

You're the only person he really talks to or spends time with

He never feels any pressure or anxiety when he's around you, and he goes to you for any advice he may need

You keep an eye out for him whenever you're on a mission, and he does the same for you

You're the only one he's confided in about his past and about his guilt surrounding Sabito

You remind him of his sister, he doesn't want to ever lose you like he lost her ;u;

You can easily read his facial expressions, even the slightest little change in his usually stony facade is clear as day to you

Most of the time though you both just sit in silence, simply enjoying the presence of one another

KYOJURO RENGOKU

He's always had to be the older, more responsible one in many of his relationships

He's never really had that feeling of looking up to someone like you

Is this how Senjuro feels when he's around him? Because if so, Kyo feels he's been missing out. It's a great feeling!

He appreciates your protective, kind and patient nature

He shares his lunches with you, always 'mistakenly' making more than what he needed, but you always do the same thing too, and you end up with way more food than you both need, lol

He absorbs your tutelage like a sponge, he's always eager to learn more from you

He brings you to his home all the time to hang out with Senjuro, who also loves you very much (poor kid needs some happiness man)

TENGEN UZUI

Oh dear this one may be a bit angsty

Uzui still has a lot of painful memories of his family, and it was a bit concerning for him to start to see you as an older sibling

He was just terrified of you ending up the same way as his siblings

But, he does trust you, and he would do anything to keep you safe from harm, even though he knows you're more than capable of keeping yourself safe

You're literally always with him, though, so he rarely has to worry about you being out of his sight

His wives adore you, they know that when Tengen is gone for a mission that he'll come back safe because he has you with him

You both look out for each other and give each other combat tips

There's no one else he'd rather fight alongside

SHINOBU KOCHO

Ok...this one is painful

How are you so much like Kanae? She can't comprehend it

Despite the pain of being around you, how you remind her so much of her older sister, she does enjoy your company very much

When you help her craft her poisons and medicines, she appreciates the help so much

You, like Tanjiro, see right through her smiling, gentle facade and see how much anger and pain she has within her

You help her in coping with it by constantly checking in on her and making sure she's in a good mental space, something she doesn't get a lot

MITSURI KANROJI

She talks to you about E V E R Y T H I N G

You're one of the few people who know about her love for Obanai, and you're constantly trying to get them together

She shares her food with you, besides Kyojuro, you're one of the few people she eats with because you don't judge her for her enormous appetite

She's very physically affectionate, always hugging you or hanging around you in some way, she just loves being able to do that with you platonically

She's constantly admiring everything you do, you could so much as breathe in her direction and she'd be like <333333

She never has to hide who she truly is around you, and for that she is sincerely appreciative

(I love Mitsuri sm agh she deserves the world)

OBANAI IGURO

He ignored you at first in all honesty

He's so used to being alone (and not to mention, he feels like he deserves to be alone) that he was somewhat anxious about you hanging around

However, he eventually warmed up to you

You encourage his relationship with Mitsuri and you know the full extent of his feelings for her

Kaburamaru also trusts you completely, and if he's not wrapped around Obanai in some way, he's wrapped around you

You're also the only one Obanai trusts with information about his past

You do your best to try and reassure him that he is not what his family made him out to be and that not everybody is out to hurt him

SANEMI SHINAZUGAWA

How in the hell did you ever manage to get close enough to him to even form a sibling-like relationship, let alone a friendship?

Sanemi...he has a lot of pain when it comes to his past, especially since it involves his family

He blames himself for everything that happened and so he feels like he doesn't deserve to have anyone be close to him

That is, until you came along

You were stubborn enough to stick with him even though he constantly told you to fuck off, threatened you, cursed at you, etc

But when he realized you weren't going anywhere, he kinda gave up and just allowed you to stick around

Your presence is very healing to him, he looks forward to seeing you

You're the only one who knows the full extent of everything he and Genya have been through, and you try to encourage Sanemi to talk to Genya and at least attempt to fix their relationship

Since he was the eldest of his siblings, Sanemi never really had someone to rely on in such a way, he always had to be the one his younger siblings went to

He has to admit though, he likes being able to have someone to go to for advice

GYOMEI HIMEJIMA

Another one who feels deeply that he doesn't deserve to have such kindness from you

He was worried about what you would do if you found out about him

Ever since...you know, what happened in his past, he worries about what people may think of him, especially someone as kind and lovely as you

Though, when you do sort of break through his stone wall (ha, GET IT) he actually opens up to you quite quickly

The trust you have in each other is unwavering, so much so that you spend a lot of time together just meditating or enjoying the scenery in silence

You do your best to assuage his guilt about what happened in his past, saying that he did what he could and that beating himself up about the past will only make him feel worse

He loves your kindness and appreciates that you're able to see him for who he really is (a lovely kind boi <3)

MUICHIRO TOKITO

Though he seems a bit out of it, Muichiro does acknowledge your presence

You remind him of someone...he just can't put his finger on it

Your protective nature toward him, it makes him think of someone he used to know (;n;)

You're always so patient with him, knowing that he has little to no memory of his past (though, Ubuyashiki's wife told you everything about it when you asked)

Though he can sometimes come off as cold and uncaring, you understand why, and through talking to him, he eventually regained some of his memories, remembering who it was you reminded him of...;u;

He's actually really lovely and kind! <3

He spends most of his time with you, discussing different topics (cloud types, bird species, etc)

"Y/N...that cloud is pretty, isn't it?" "It is, Muichiro, you're right."

[emanation-aura]

ask game!

7. What is your deepest joy about writing?

10. Has a piece of writing ever “haunted” you? Has your own writing haunted you? What does that mean to you?

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end.

25. What is a weird, hyper-specific detail you know about one of your characters that is completely irrelevant to the story?

28. Who is the most delightful character you’ve ever written? Why?

This is a response to this post about questions for writers!

7. deepest joy about writing?

Definitely the feeling. The emotion and being cathartic. Writing has been and probably will always be an outlet for me; I love pouring emotion onto the page and receiving comments from people who say same, yes, I felt the same way. Not as eloquently as that, usually, but I take great pride in making my work feel alive, and having others feel something from my work— it makes me even more honoured/excited when what a reader takes from the fic is different to what I wrote into it.

10. has a piece of writing "haunted" me, my own or otherwise? what does that mean?

I talked about it in another answer to this ask game, but these two fics [Only Human, Attack on Titan (tw graphic self-harm) and The Shape of Grief, Maze Runner (tw grief, suicide, psychological torture)] were absolutely fundamental to me. They haunted, and continue to haunt me to this day. I can't place exactly why, although I imagine the heavy themes have something to do with it, but. The slow, agonising prose of The Shape of Grief inspired how I write about emotion today. Only Human told me something about tenderness and care that I keep expressing in my works.

I guess they not so much haunt as keep me company. I don't consciously think about them all the time, but they left something indelible in me that will never go away; and in turn, I let pieces of them "haunt" my own writing, too.

18. Choose a passage from my work, and explain it— backstory, details, how it was written start to finish.

(Genshin Impact fic below! If you're not into Genshin this may not make much sense.)

A flash of lightning from the corresponding i, splitting apart the twisting lines that make up the letter s, a green serpent that writhes in uncomfortably lifelike agony. Swiftly transforming the a into a large valley, the n from nisut crash-lands from the sky, bending and twisting until it is a ruler rising from his throne, sands pouring from his hand. With one swipe of the simplistic brown line, the u rises up as a grand palace door in front, and behind it rises a seemingly endless series of pillars— the slideshow pauses, then, and the letter-characters recombine to brand this grand structure Khaj-Nisut.

This is part of Cyno/Staff of Scarlet Sands section for A Blade Against the World, a work of mine exploring the thematic elements of characters and their "signature" weapons. (I'll very behind because Tighnari/Hunter's Path threw me into writer's block. I've started on Tighnari & Cyno, and have vague plans for Alhaitham, Wanderer, and Dehya.)

Anyway, this passage makes reference to the Deshret script seen all across the desert. Like Egyptian hieroglyphics, they're pictographic—each letter represents a concept. Cyno is currently in King Deshret's Mausoleum trying to decide beween the Key of Khaj-Nisut and Staff of Scarlet Sands, and this pictographic display is done by the characters that compose Khaj-Nisut.

The slideshow represents the history of the Great Red Sand: the lightning splitting apart the serpent is The Usurper/Primordial One vanquishing the seven Dragon Sovereigns, specifically Apep. The n crashlanding into a valley and rising to become a ruler with sand pouring from his hand references Deshret's descension: he was once a "son of the sky" (according to the chinese version of The Lay of Al-Ahmar) who was exiled to Teyvat and became a God-King. The n from the Deshret Script is fitting here because it is Sacred Seal: Right to Rule, a "spitting image of a ruler seated upon a throne". Finally, the u (Sacred Seal: Grand Door: "silhouetted shape of a stone door from an ancient palace") represents the rise of Khaj-Nisut as a city-state.

25. Weird, hyper-specific yet irrelevant detail you know about one of your characters?

Hmm... let me give an answer for both the fandoms I actively write for now.

Genshin: In Structural Isomerism, where mad scientist Sucrose accidentally reverse-engineers the element of Time via Anemo, I imagine that Lisa (who doesn't even appear in the fic!) ends up actually going into retirement, even quitting as a librarian, because of the stress that the aftermath of this incident causes (she probably has to clean up and figure out who the hell showed up and turned Albedo back into chalk).

Persona 5: Whenever I write, I keep in mind that Akechi actually is slightly envious of Sumire's gymnastic ability, even though he's disgusted by the way she was brainwashed by Maruki and so weak-willed. He justifies it as he wants flexibility and skill for Metaverse killing, but actually it makes something deep inside hurt to see someone wholeheartedly devoted to a single, transcendental dream against all odds. This has never come up in any fic I write, though, and the sole thing this idea does it affect how I characterise Goro talking with Sumire.

28. Most delightful character you’ve ever written and why?

(Persona 5)

Goro Akechi, without a single doubt. My Joker Palace fic(s) are set from his perspective most of the time (because Akira is indisposed by the cognitive hell of hating himself so much that he has a Palace :P), and he is truly delightful to explore.

Goro is violent and standoffish and cold, but he also cares (for Akira) in ways that make little sense to even himself. He is a living contradiction, acting and justifying his own actions in a way that suggests neither outright guilt/remorse nor total callous disregard. He isn't exactly at peace with his spotty past with serial killing and working for Shido, but he's also accepted every aspect of himself and won't hide behind another Detective Prince mask again out of a desire to be liked or respected. He will forge ahead in the world on his own terms, knowing that his past may permanently stain him but at least it is part of the true him, no matter what (especially poignant with Maruki arc). I've had so much fun with the violent swear-y inner monologue, balanced with moments of painful self-reflection about the nature of his and Akira's relationship. He is simultaneously very self-aware and also very oblivious about aspects of himself and others, and I think that it's a challenging but fun balancing act.

Example of a moment I enjoyed writing very much:

“Are you going to fight me?” Goro asks impatiently, done with this farce of Akira, the impostor wearing his face in a heart of distorted lies. “Or are you going to disarm me again and again, ever since you let me in here?” Because Akira— Cognitive Akira— has done nothing but surrender his heart to Goro over and over again. It’s just a tad insulting when Goro is his former assassin and serial killer, being allowed to walk all over his heart’s defenses without even a will of rebellion to keep him out. (Where is Akira’s Persona, anyway?)

[nuzzle]

hi :D i hope you are having a good day. i have a question:

i wanted to dress lolita for a while, but im a poor latina in a (in general) not-so-kind latino country for poor people, the tax to buy in original sites from other countries is CRAZY and the ones from my country are also expensive cause its not a popular fashion in latino america. so both isnt affordable to my mom, who works with kindergarten kids and have to raise 3 kids of her own. my dad works, his payment is better than my mom but he have to spend it in his treatment cause he have a chronic illness and mine + my siblings cause we are fucked up in the head. do u think its acceptable if i buy popular dresses in aliexpress?

i dont want to fuck original artists work and a lot of their payment. i mean, lolita fashion its not a SUPER popular fashion like non-alternative fashions. i would refuse to buy by aliexpress and would wait until i (luckily) am in a better situation if its harmful to the artists

pls let me know, mwa mwa <3

also, i love to think humans have animal personalities, and i see u as a bunny girly - coming for a hamster girly

hello, i hope you're having a great day (or night) yourself!!

my answer trails on for quite a bit so i'll be including it under this 'read more' cut!

as for your question, i would say it ultimately comes down to what you want to do and what you personally find acceptable. it's already a great start that you're not jumping straight into it, and that you're choosing to make an informed decision. i'm not sure that i'm the best person to answer your question, but i'll tell you what i think..

everyone has a different experience coming into the fashion. i've heard many stories about beginners starting out with buying falsely advertised or replica dresses. back then, it was mostly milanoo but now i would say that's been replaced by aliexpress or amazon. many did so out of a mix of reasons (being more affordable, unknowingly doing so, being young are usually the top contributors to this) these usually end with regret, because the items are very low quality.

i'll clarify this by saying i mean replicas of dresses and prints, and not so much accessories. replicas of shoes and bags are a lot more acceptable within the community because it's not something you can really "copyright" like you can with a print design. replicas do harm the artist because the designs are stolen and resold. they don't profit from those sales. not only that, but you won't exactly be getting what you paid for either. 20dollarlolita on here has a very informative post on this topic, i'm not the greatest at putting this into words.

you're right in acknowledging that lolita fashion is niche compared to other styles, that's a big part of it. japanese brands producing lolita clothing are a lot smaller than we think (and for indie brands, even smaller!!) many of them have been closing recently due to a lack of sales or not being able to keep up with production. buying replicas or settling for fast fashion funnels money into producing more low quality mass produced items, instead of supporting brands that need sales to keep up with producing higher quality items that take more money and time to make.

i'm not too educated on what the taxes are like for other countries, so i can't really help you on that front. i don't know what that's like at all, i only really know how expensive shipping from japan can be.

i recommend secondhand brand items because they could be found at affordable prices without a loss in quality. secondhand items on lace market can be very affordable with patience and catching good deals, this is where i started and i highly recommend it. you'll find even better deals on damaged items, and many of them will be easy fixes with a bit of TLC. the easiest fixes are usually color bled items, yellowed lace from sun damage or age, loose buttons, and stains. shipping prices could be more manageable if you filter it to sellers from your country rather than dealing with international shipping costs.

items on taobao are also quite fairly priced from what i've heard, but i don't have any experience with it so i'm afraid i can't help you more..

personally, i didn't start wearing lolita until i was financially able to do so.. and that wasn't for a long time! i'm not sure how old you are but i was very young and my family wasn't in the best position either when i discovered the fashion. on the bright side, waiting is what allowed me more time for researching and making better decisions.

and thank you, i really do love bunnies!! wishing both you and your family well ♡