#their friendship is worth the prize

[inkskinned]

the problem is that being single is seen as the consolidation prize, and not the natural neutral state of being-a-person. at the end of the movie or the book or the poetry, there is a person waiting for you at the altar, and they love you. if the play is a comedy, everyone gets married. the metaphor is about how you are not-whole. the metaphor is about how everyone is going to be happily-ever-after. the metaphor is that romantic love is the most important resource on the planet, not just all-love. all-love is not a thing, that is a disappointment. the treasure is not the friends we made along the way. the treasure is the girl you landed.

the metaphor is that you cannot be alone, that means you are broken. are you getting over someone? that is acceptable, you can be getting over someone, but not for long. you must be single because you would rather not be single. you must be single and looking to not-be-single. you must want to date, eventually.

friendship and community are never seen as being equal-to or even-better than romantic connection. that person is your one! you need to find them. you need to hunt through the sand particles until you can shift out some kind of gem. this is regardless to your own experience of the beach and the sun. you need to be somewhere with someone.

if you are taking this time alone to heal, that is so sad. everyone gives you this little pitying look. the understanding is that you are not actually happier than you were before you were single. it is seen as a sort of pity - oh, you are choosing yourself, making yourself the priority? - that isn't quite right. you must mean that you are making yourself ready for the right person. you are just laying the bed better this time. open up your heart. you'll find them, we promise!

what do you mean you're really-truly genuinely-very happy? you are probably misremembering what it was like to be in a relationship. and besides, once you meet your person, that time will look grey and bland and wasted. your person is the only way for you to see in color. so what if you have taken this time - for the first time in your entire life - to actually-for-real do the fucking work. you can be proud of yourself, sure. but the way we need to know that you got better is that you get a partner. you're healed enough for the next bad part!

people don't choose to be single, they just say they're choosing to be single - they actually mean "nobody wants to date me." it doesn't matter how many people you have gently rejected or how many times you've talked it over carefully in therapy. what matters is that you are single, and by all accounts - that means you are something worth our pity. your successes and life all seem pale in the sunlight. sure, you have done amazing things and finally found your way in life. what matters is that there wasn't a person in the room with you while you did it.

you want to tell them - that's the whole thing. i didn't know how to be alone in the room. i didn't know how to handle the silence. every moment was so sharp, and i kept choosing the wrong way to close the door. i have spent my entire life in the empty well, living in the ricochet of someone else's cruelty. for once i have built myself a ladder. for once everything i taste is all mine, every bite of sunshine and laughter. i have learned how to sleep out in the open with my memories. recently, they have started to purr.

your father rolls his eyes. listen. this isn't about you. i just want a grandchild in my future.

[hanibalistic]

DRUNKEN WITH A SENSE OF LOVE | HWANG HYUNJIN.

genre | romance / drunken confessions / fake dating au

synopsis | you and hyunjin got drunk at different times, and you two took care of each other similarly. 

word count | 7.1k+

warning | mentions of insecurity / brief allusion to sexual themes / alcohol and drunkenness  

note | i changed almost everything about this.

Hyunjin has gotten himself etched to the back of your mind, and you genuinely did not like that.

You didn't blame him, though. If anything, you blame yourself for falling so head over heels for him.

For one, Hyunjin couldn’t help who falls in love with him. He couldn’t suppress his overwhelmingly good looks if he tried, which he never did. He enjoyed the positive attention, however shallow they often were. He also couldn’t put a pause on his decent personality, which came as a genuine surprise to you after you got to know him better through this fake dating scheme. You always thought beautiful people harbored the ugliest heart, out of envy and bitterness. Hyunjin wasn’t like that. You didn’t think he was, at least. 

For two, you should have known better than to fall in love with a man leagues above your selection pool. People called it self-degradation, a lack of self-esteem, having no self-worth, and whatnot. You considered it a down-to-earth trait, a reality check, understanding your limits, and whatnot. Hyunjin was a boy you should fall in love with in moderation but never utterly, ardently, absolutely. You were, unfortunately, the latter. 

For three, and this was the stupidest part, you two were temporarily dating. Hyunjin was honest when he approached you and said that his friends, at the ripe age of twenties and pursuing higher education, thought you were good enough to be the butt of a romantic joke. They had challenged him to chase you, get you into a relationship, and break your heart. It was a heinous and, frankly, childish game, but you agreed to it with him for the prize money. 

It was worth it at that time. It was easy money! Who wouldn’t want that? You didn’t feel that way now. Pretending to be in a loving relationship with him has short-term perks but long-term losses. 

Hyunjin was practically in you, etched to the back of your mind, tattooed on the inside of your skin, taken by your bloodied hands to the bottom of your grave. The degree to which your heart dropped for him was unexplainable by yourself. Therefore, having the excuse to go on dates and hold his hands in public, snuggle with him during outings with his friends, and maintain a pleasant friendship with him behind closed doors were great experiences. But when the time comes for separation, you will hurt, not merely over the breakup, but the reminder that he has never felt more for you, that your wonderful experience with him was just an experience.

Clumsy stumbling could be heard outside his apartment, and not a second later came a round of demanding knocks. Hyunjin's head perked up at the noise, his eyes wide in alert at the sudden banging. He looked at the door momentarily before finally looking over to the clock, his brows furrowing slightly at the late time. He waited to check if it could be a drunken stranger approaching the wrong door, but soon enough, another round of aggressive knocks sounded.

Holding the thought that it could just be his roommate, Han Jisung, coming back home late for yet another odd reason, and also praying inwardly that he wouldn't have to spend the night taking care of a loud, obnoxious, and very drunk Jisung, he made his way up and approached the door.

Flinging the door open, Hyunjin did a double-take before his annoyed expression morphed into one of surprise. His arm went slack against the wooden frame of the door, and he took an instinctive step forward when he saw your drunken state—your features were scrunched up in discomfort, your eyes squinted because astigmatism had taken over on your walk to the apartment building, and you were hunched over. You were not at all the way you used to look, not the way he was used to seeing you, which was always so presentable and well put together.

An amused smile appeared on his face as he eyed you up and down, wanting nothing more than to make fun of and tease you even without your ability to form the perfect retorts he has grown to be highly fond of. But you sniffed for a moment and took a step forward. In that exact second, you had Hyunjin doubling over to catch you before you could fall to the floor, concern lining up the crinkles of his eyes as he looked down at you.

"Woah, alright! Let’s stand slowly, okay?" he commanded gently, cooing at your side as if talking to a child. 

His arms curled around your shoulder and waist with a protective grip, and he hoisted your weight by supporting you with his own. Pulling you into the apartment, he shut the door slowly with his feet before returning his attention to you, hoping to bring you to the couch where you could lie down and rest.

“Jeez, babe, how much did you drink?” he laughed, dragging your unresponsive body along with him.

You groaned lowly, trying your best to hold down the acidic taste rushing at the back of your mouth. You wouldn’t know it, but this was not what you had planned for the night. Your friends did their job sending you home safely. Who would have thought you’d leave your apartment shortly after just to stumble to Hyunjin’s home? It was a short distance from your place, but what a miracle you made it without any major accidents! And what a disaster you made it to his home while being high on alcoholic honesty!

You snapped your head up. You were at the perfect angle to stare at his side profile, allowing you the premium shot of his perfect jawline, luscious locks, beautiful lashes, button tip of his nose, and just the most kissable lips you have ever seen. A grimace reached your face. It was an instinctive response. His good looks indeed couldn’t hide even behind the blurriest of eyes. You thought if you lied to your body enough, your mind would follow, so you grimaced whenever you looked at him, hoping to start disliking him. It hasn’t worked. 

"Hwang Hyunjin,” you muttered.

He chuckled. “Yes. That is me."

You gulped, still staring at him. Then, as you lowered your eyes to the floor, you leisurely suggested what’s been on your mind recently, “We should break up."

Of all the things you have done within these few months of him meeting you, including you agreeing to help him lie to his friends about this fake dating challenge to punching someone in the face for shaming his impulsive sex life, which you weren’t surprised he has, this one caught him off guard the most. This one also made him panic. It was fear, like sweaty hands and dry lips, like his mind racing with terrible thoughts, racing with made-up reasons as to why you would want that, racing with every single action he has done that could be counted as a mistake.

"Wh–what? Why do you–why? Why are we breaking up? We are fine. I didn't do anything–did I do something?" Hyunjin stuttered, unconsciously tightening his grip on your body before he let out a gentle but firm whisper, "No."

“I know, I am sorry. I don’t know–I’m just sorry,” you slurred, long stopped looking at him and instead was now leaning your entire weight against him like a wall. Your hands waved about in the air. "You are mad at me, aren't you? Of course–“ you snorted obnoxiously–“it’s a lot of money! I’ll pay you. Break up with me, don’t be mad.”

Hyunjin stared at you as you laughed manically. It sounded choked up, like you’ve got wet coughs prepared in your throat, but he could tell you were far from shedding tears, unlike good ol’ sensitive him, who remained in a state of anxiety and was still trying to process why you brought up separation. It wasn’t time for the fake dating to end. It was nowhere near it! To suggest breaking up so early must mean something was wrong with him, but what was? He couldn’t tell! To think he was just losing his mind over what to do once it was time for this fake relationship to end. 

“Hyunjin,” you called him once when you noticed his silence. Looking up at him, you furrowed your brows and reached up to brush his face clumsily with your hand, pushing your fingertips against his skull. “Hyunjin? Hey. Answer me. Hey. Hello. Hyunjin!”

He leaned away from your aggressive touch, his shoulders relaxing at your playful antics. A smile formed uncontrollably on his lips when you doubled down on smearing your hands all over his face after his dodges. He was left haplessly struggling between missing your direct eyeball pokes and keeping you from falling to the ground. You grinned out loud; he mirrored it, and he didn’t hear the sound of your laughs mixing together because he hears it all the time.

“You are very drunk, [Name],” he managed to comment after grabbing both of your hands and keeping them at his face level. His tight-lipped smile sparkled when you attempted a struggle, like a parent reprimanding their child, then he moved your hands to your face and squeezed your cheeks together. Your lip jutted out in response. He leaned in to kiss your cupid’s bow. “You’re being silly. Let’s get you cleaned up and back to bed.”

The frown on your face made him nervous. His hands slowly slipped from your face, and your hands fell to your sides. You remained silent, and he let the clogs in your brain move. Your thoughts weren’t clear. The only thing you were sure of was that the man standing before you was Hwang Hyunjin, your temporary boyfriend, and you’d spent the whole night trying to drink your feelings for him away. You came to his apartment for a reason—you needed to break up with him for your own good.

“No, I can’t go to bed yet. I have something to do.” You yawned and waved an arm dismissively. You spoke before you finished yawning, leaving your words hanging in the air in slow motion. “I came to tell you something.”

Hyunjin’s hands curled into fists. He let go, tightened them, and let go again to alleviate the sweat gathering at his palms. You were surprisingly hell-bent on the topic, which led him to believe it went beyond a moment of drunkenness. It must have been a conclusion formed long ago, and you have just now mustered the courage to let him know. But why? What did he do? What did he not do? 

He was more than nervous, if there was a word to describe the state of his heart. This was more than a personal problem, which he admittedly still has to work through, but far more significant than himself was you—his feelings for you, his immense affection for you, the fact that he loved you the way you warned yourself not to love him but did anyway. It wasn’t your fault. Your observant eyes, your sincerity, your care for him. It wasn’t your fault. He fell in love with you of his own accord.

If you left him, he would be like a dog without a leash, a dog without an owner. He would wander aimlessly, filled with rage and dread, sniffing every darkened corner for a whiff of your scent. 

“Are you breaking up with me?” he asked meekly. 

You sucked in a deep breath to counter your congested chest, then you shook your head in agreement. “Yes.” 

You were very drunk. He shouldn’t take your words into consideration. “That’s fine,” he said as he stepped toward you, “can we get cleaned up and go to bed anyway? It’s very late.”

“No, I don’t want you touching me anymore.” You stepped back dramatically and hugged yourself into a protective stance. “It’s for the better.” 

He wondered what that meant. Were you repulsed by him? Did you finally realize how disgusting his inability to stay away from sexual and romantic validation was? Were you ashamed to be associated with him because of his impulsive behavior? He was only good for a short time; did you come to that realization? You were too good for him. He always knew that.

Hyunjin retreated his hand from mid-air. His hands met before his abdomen, his fingers immediately picking at each other as he uncomfortably shifted his weight. The corner of his lips arched downward at your rejection, but he tried to keep them neutral so he wouldn’t be influenced into crying. There wasn’t much else he could do with himself if being near you was no longer an option. He looked lost and wronged; he felt so.

“[Name], did I do something?” he asked, rubbing his elbow awkwardly. “Why do you suddenly want to break up with me?”

You blinked at a random space on the wall. Sitting below your sight was a messy square table with unwashed cups, scattered papers, and a closed laptop. Even in a state of haze, you knew they didn’t belong to him. Hyunjin was more organized than that. He told you once it made his school experience much easier to have everything in one place: his computer, which you knew he often kept in his school bag. You sniffed; you knew him like the back of your hand. 

“I can’t tell you,” you replied slowly, not looking at him. “It’s a secret.” 

Hyunjin tilted his head. “I won’t tell anyone, I promise.” 

He sounded convincing, so you gradually moved your eyes to access him. Standing in front of you, timid as a mouse, was Hwang Hyunjin. You knew that, and you knew that your secret was to be kept from him. Yet, somehow, all that did not register once you were engaged in a conversation with him. He was Hyunjin, just a person you were talking to. If he promised not to tell, then it should be fine. 

“You promise?” you asked. 

Hyunjin nodded. “I promise.” 

You pouted with a glare, willing him to waver and show any sign of deception, but he stood his ground and waited for you to expose your deepest and darkest feelings to him. A faint grumble sounded from your mouth. You looked around briefly to check for any eavesdroppers before you walked a few tentative steps toward him, and you confessed, “I’m in love with you.” 

It was like a shot through the heart, and the shot was aimed so successfully that the organ tore off its hinges and fell to his abdomen where his hands fiddled nervously with each other. It may be asking for an exit out of his body, it may be seeking its new owner, or it may come knocking boldly at your mouth and ask to fit inside you. Hyunjin remained perplexed at your confession. The confession had a bitter taste; he wasn’t sure what to make of it or if he deserved it from someone like you. 

“[Name]…” 

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. “I am very in love with you. It’s stupid.” 

He couldn’t tell, but you understood, despite a fogged mind, that letting him know your affection for him was a cause for your demise. Your emotions were in a whirlwind, collecting up the fragments of all the heart pieces you've broken because of Hyunjin and how you had confronted yourself multiple times with your own delusions that this wouldn't be like the movies. He would never fall in love with you just because you two got closer from months of fake dating.

Even then, he was empathetic to your body language, especially how much they mirrored his. His shoulders slumped at how you turned away from him to trail your attention off somewhere safer, where he wasn’t in your sight. Registering his beautiful face was hard for you because you couldn’t have him; processing his existence and your proximity to him was difficult because you could never have him. You turned away from him to further signify to yourself the assumed truth, your trembling fingers pulling at each other to avoid an awkward standstill. 

Hyunjin was etched to the back of your brain. He was overwhelming, and he was far away. Unable to contain the sudden reminder that you were never going to get over him, a rush of tears started to tremble their way up to your eyes. Your face scrunched without remorse, and your head dropped near your shoulders alarmingly quickly that it startled him.

“I love you, I’m so sorry,” you sobbed. It made him panic. “Please break up with me.” 

“Why are we breaking up if you love me, silly?” he forced a laugh once he approached you. 

His lanky arms were clumsy and gentle after he pulled at his sweater sleeves to wipe your tears. They hovered awkwardly over your face, gauging how much strength to use to effectively dry your eyes but not push you any further away from him. He cooed a bunch of nonsense, but they were sweet like sleepy kisses on your hands. Eventually, he cupped your face and wiped your eyes with his thumbs. You let him; he made you laugh when he apologized for using too much force, even though he never did. 

“You don’t love me, Hyunjin,” you muttered. 

“Nonsense,” he retorted within a second, “who said that?”

You didn’t reply, so he stood with his arms raised for a whole minute while you leaned the weight of your head against his palms. He thought it terribly horrific that he ought to remember the shape of your face with his slender fingers because of his inability to sew his skin into yours. If his hands were like superglue, he could be attached to you forever—your face, your features, you, his most favorite thing in the world. His hands would burn, but what of it? Better you scorch him than to never be touched by you at all. 

“Hyunjin,” you called when you were finished zoning out.

“Mhm?” 

“I love you. I’m sorry,” you said. “I’m so ugly.” 

Growing up being valued for his beautiful features taught him to devalue it. He didn’t care for it. He wouldn't cry about it if he were to earn a permanent scar across his face. Yet, even then, if he were to have one, he was sure people would rave about how the scar ruined his face rather than talk about how he obtained it. Except for you. You’d ask about it, like you always asked everything about him. 

The kind of person you were, his most favorite person in the world—you were detailed like that, and you made him feel an essence of humanity others didn’t. With you, he wasn’t ethereal, he wasn’t a God, he wasn’t an angel fallen to Earth. He didn’t have to be because you never put him on some miraculous pedestal. He was just Hwang Hyunjin; his favorite food is his mother’s cooking, he makes clumsy mistakes and looks funny when he does, and he enjoys making art. 

Not a model, not God’s favorite, not pretty. Just a boy, and he’s in love with you.

“Okay,” he said, “I’m ugly too.” 

He didn’t deny your false claims; you were the prettiest he had ever known, but only he needed to know that. When there comes a time for him to praise and worship your physical body, he will. For now, there wasn’t anything much he wanted to say in return. Just that he was the same as you. 

Your souls didn’t collide that way, obviously. You two were completely different people with varying hobbies and friend groups. However, Hyunjin was willing to chase you like Hell to meet where you were. There wasn’t anything he wanted to be if he couldn’t be it with you. Whatever you are, he is.

There was another long pause. Hyunjin patiently waited, tender eyes concentrated on each crevice of your face as he stroked your stained cheeks with his thumb. You didn’t say anything more, only slapping your hands over his and pulling them from your face. He thought you were moving away, but you took a step forward instead and dove into his arms. You hugged him around his neck, hanging off him like a sloth. He chuckled, swaying you side to side. You were tired, he knew. 

“It’s getting late, baby,” he whispered, leaning back to watch your closed eyes and laughing. He ran a hand through your hair multiple times, getting a clearer view of your face. “Let’s clean up and go to bed, okay?”

You groaned and muttered in response. He didn’t hear what you said. He kept sweeping your hair back. Supporting you with his weight, you were heavy, but he didn’t mind. You wouldn’t be able to change your clothes by yourself, so he would help you. It’d be sloppy and slow, and he wouldn’t mind. You would take up most of the bed, sprawled out without a clue that you weren’t sleeping in your apartment. Your body heat would scratch up a fever in him, and he wouldn’t mind. He enjoyed taking care of you. 

Staring at him as he stroked your hair, you pouted before uttering three familiar words, “I love you.” 

Hyunjin smiled. Whatever you are, he is. He kissed your nose and your eyes. He told you he loves you too.

It was one of those nights when Hyunjin couldn’t spend time with you, and you were unreasonably disappointed about it.

You slouched atop the couch you got at a flea market, which Hyunjin had to convince you to get after repeatedly reassuring you that there wouldn’t be any actual fleas hiding in the creases. This uncomfortable position resulted from five hours of continuous mumbling about how you should not be upset that Hyunjin didn’t choose to spend the night with you, which he had done the past few weeks. He has been somewhat clingy lately, and you couldn’t imagine why. You thought your act was good. There was no way his friends doubted you. 

This could be the calm before the storm. Even though you two had concocted a detailed timeline for your fake dating, you wouldn’t be surprised if Hyunjin abruptly cut it short. If that was true, his current sweetness was nothing more than a buildup to a dramatic and convincing breakup. 

Pouting in dismay, you rolled up the bag of chips and reached for the tea table beside you, your fingertips wiggling to graze past the black binder clip you used to keep the plastic bag sealed. Amid your frustrated groaning, still refusing to get your ass off the couch even after more than ten seconds of struggling, the doorbell suddenly rang, and coming after that were loud bangs at your door.

A shiver ran down your spine as you snapped your head toward the direction of the noise, your brows rising abruptly at the fearful intrusion. Slowly throwing your chip bag on the table, you stood up and tip-toed your way over to the door where you pressed your hands to the wooden surface and carefully looked through the peephole.

A gasp caught in your throat when you saw Hyunjin’s face standing just a few inches away from the circle as if leaning against the door for support. You immediately moved out and unlocked your door, swinging it open to reveal him fully. Taking a good look at his face before he started to throw his little drunken tantrum—messy hair, concentrated brows, droopy eyelids, and a general look of discomfort—you concluded that he definitely has been downing more shots than he could handle.

“What happened to you?” 

You stepped up to put your hands on either side of his arm, carefully bringing him into your apartment. He stumbled with most of his weight straining on your shoulder. There were so many stutters in his steps that you almost dragged him into a fall with you on your way to the couch. After setting him down, he snorted at the cushy feeling of your couch. It took him a while to process the new environment, and then he arched his neck to find you. 

Hyunjin could barely make out your face. He couldn’t even be sure if he went to your apartment, but subconsciously, he could tell he was at your place. He felt it in your timid touches just now, and whatever scent he whiffed out of the air, it smelt like you. Licking his lower lip as his worries slowly faded away and his attention—as much as he could muster—returned, he mumbled a string of incoherent noises under his breath before he, much to your palpitating heart’s dismay, pulled you onto the couch next to him. 

He got on top of you; his legs had to bend in weird ways to accommodate the small couch, and he placed his palms on either side of your head to trap you under him. You felt heat forming on your cheeks as you shrunk beneath his shadow, your eyes widening at the proximity. Hyunjin has never done this before. The closeness wasn’t new, but the position of it was. Being under him was an unbelievable feeling. He looked beautiful, and his toned muscles became more visible by supporting his own weight. How your thoughts were smeared! You doubted your body would forget how well he could cage you in. 

Hyunjin stared at you with a low, drunken hum. Then, suddenly, he leaned down to meet your face. 

“[Name],” he started, lowering his head tiredly to your shoulder, “you wanted to break up with me?”

You blinked up at the ceiling, confused, but you figured it could be the alcohol talking for him, so you chose to disregard all the questions that popped into your head. Holding out your arms to push against his chest, you attempted to sit up. “I don’t want to break up with you, Hyunjin.”

He seemed to be processing your answer as he allowed you to set him aside and give yourself more space. You sat quietly next to him, letting him have the time to think over what he wanted to say. The thoughtful pout on his face told you it was difficult for him to use his brain, but it looked cute enough that you almost took a picture to tease him about it once he got sober. You wondered if his response would be nonsense as well.

“Why do you want to break up with me?” he whispered, causing you to sigh. He hasn’t heard you, after all. His lips were pursed into a frown, and his eyes were squinted to show that he was very close to leaking a few tears down his cheeks, but you couldn’t read between the lines and realize what his despair meant. Hands fiddling with the hem of his shirt, he abruptly turned to you and sniffed. “You can’t do that to me. I won’t–I won’t let you do that to me.” 

You tilted your head to the side, your brows constantly furrowed. Where was he getting this idea from? You tried to recall any off-handed comments you made. Still, they were primarily directed elsewhere and never at your fake relationship. You’ve never said anything bad about him, not to him, and never behind his back. There wasn’t anything outstandingly mean to say anyway, so what sprung this on? 

Returning to reality, your head faintly shook as you looked up at Hyunjin to ask his drunken state about the reason behind this outburst. Your eyes widened instead when you saw he had taken his shirt off, the lump of fabric discarded on the floor carelessly. Heat blossomed at the base of your neck, and you felt your joints sour in panic; seriously, what sprung this on! This was a much bigger issue than drunkenness! 

When you noticed his hands reaching to the belt of his jeans, you immediately lunged toward him and circled his wrists to stop his movements. Your panic became a surprised concern at his need to strip naked in your apartment. You doubted he wanted to show you his body. Even if he did, this wasn’t how you wanted to do it. 

Moving his hands away, you urged, “No. We’re not doing that.”

“No, I have to! I have to!” 

He snatched his hands away from yours and dove to unbuckle his belt again. His movements grew increasingly frustrated the more you blocked his attempt to remove his pants. You were annoying, but he wasn’t angry at you. He was scared. He wasn’t getting what he wanted, and he thought you might leave him if he didn’t show you what he could offer. It scared him that you didn’t want to see him whole, so eventually, he began to sob. 

“I have to show you, [Name]. Please let me!” Hyunjin whined, hands tugging harshly at each other by his chest.

“You don’t have to show me anything,” you assured as you grabbed a few tissues from the tea table. You dabbled softly at his eyes. “Come on, let’s put your clothes back on.”

Tears rolled down his cheeks like knives against your skin. He felt uncomfortable at this unfamiliar sequence. Things usually go smoothly after he reveals himself. Nobody has ever refused to see him, so why did you? What about himself was so repulsive that you couldn’t take one look at his bare skin? Why didn’t you love him back? 

“No.” he slurred, then paused to catch his breath. 

The moment of calm was gone too soon. His hands reached up to ruffle his hair in a frenzy. His heart hammering against his chest, yet his brain wasn’t sane enough to understand what the sudden panic was about, just that it had something to do with you. That obliviousness, as a result, was making him even more agitated.

“You need to love me again!” he exclaimed, eyes brimming with unknown tears. “People love me when I take my clothes off. You need to love me again!” 

A puff of air slowly made its way out of your half-parted lips. You could feel the stretching of your heartstrings. Hyunjin cried as he shrank into himself, his arms going around his cold body for a sense of comfort, and the sight toyed with your head by sending waves of deep anguish like mere laps of the ocean. The feeling deranged you—to realize Hyunjin experiences such a level of hopelessness and loneliness was heartbreaking. More importantly, you felt ignorant of his problems. You should have been a better friend, perhaps even a better lover.

“Hey,” you called out gently as you scooted toward him. You brought one hand up to his face to direct his eyes to you. You smiled softly when you found that he was opening his squinted eyes to stare back. “I’m going to get something, so wait here for me, okay?”

He sniffed, tasting the tears rolling down his mouth, and nodded. You rubbed his cheek with your thumb, ever so gingerly placing a hand at the small of his back, hoping to calm him down, but it turned out Hyunjin had a thought of his own. After feeling the warmth of your hand, he took it as a sign that you wanted to hug him, so he obliged immediately by wrapping his arms around your torso and putting his head on your shoulder.

You breathed a small chuckle when he made weird noises after finding a space at the crook of your neck. The transition from him throwing a tantrum to having a mini panic attack to being the clingiest person you have ever met was amusing. As was the transition from your mind being filled with annoyance and confusion to having your feelings torn into shreds to breathing out a chuckle. It was entertaining, and the fact that Hyunjin could bring out so many different aspects of your emotions was undeniably endearing.

He was that kind of person. He has always been. More than beautiful, he was expressive, selfless, and tender-minded. Watching him allowed you to live an emotional life vicariously. All the things you ignored in the past because of mental stress were repainted in colors by his hands. The movie you never watched, the ice cream you never tried, the districts you never visited, and the fireworks show you never stayed for—everything meant something to Hyunjin, so everything meant something to you. 

To him, love was a grave of sacrifices. Of his time, his space, his body, and his mind. He was willing to give, and he has given you all except one. You wouldn’t know any of it. 

You moved to the back of the couch, cautiously pressing your back up against the edge. Hyunjin followed you, shifting his position so he lay stuffed against your chest with your arms around his shoulders. His fingers played with each other shyly on top of his bare chest as he looked around your apartment absentmindedly. He couldn’t register anything but the fabric of your clothes and how small you made him feel. 

He finally looked at you after a moment. His cries had long ceased and left only trails of dry tears on his dearest cheeks. With his eyelashes still wet, glittering beautifully in the air, he blinked, his eyes widening after he found out you had been looking down at him. Suddenly, he grinned childishly with a hint of sun hidden in his smile. “What are you looking at?”

You hummed, finding Hyunjin utterly irresistible even with his tear-stained cheeks and slurred laughter. He was all messy and puzzling, but your heart pushed against itself to give him space to stay inside. “I’m looking at you, silly.” 

“Oh, you’re looking at me.” He giggled, covering half his face with his hands and shutting his eyes shyly. He squirmed around in your arms, but not once did he move far enough to not feel you against him. When he was done, he returned back to the original position, and he peeked an eye through the gap between his fingers. He laughed. “ I am looking at you too.”

“I know you are,” you said, fingers threading through his feathery locks with serenity, and a smile so heartwarming that Hyunjin couldn’t help but focus his sight on it.

“Why?” he asked, his eyes shaky.

You pursed your lips together and shrugged. “I can’t tell you. It is a secret.”

Hyunjin’s gaze hardened naively, a gasp ripping through his throat as he leaned back against your hand. “Tell me! I promise I won’t tell anyone else.”

“You promise?” 

“I promise!” he exclaimed, sitting up slightly and bumping his forehead against your chin. He burst into a fit of giggles then, rubbing his forehead for a while before reaching the same hand out to touch your chin sloppily. “I’m sorry, I hit your face.”

“It's okay,” you said, your thumb soothing against the spot he had bumped into you. “But you promise me you can keep a secret? It’s very important!”

He nodded eagerly. “I promise!”

“Okay,” you said as you looked up at the sky, pretending to think. “The reason why I am looking at you is really simple. It is because I love you.”

You glanced back down at him to find him looking at you in astonishment. He licked his lower lip. His mind cleared a little for the first time, and he felt all of the universe that was your body pressed close to him. Beyond that, there were more minor things. Your heart beat faster than his, making him chase after you like a madman; the warmth of your skin equated to the warmth he manually cultivated in his bed by stacking multiple blankets together, an attempt to replicate your presence at night; your soft voice, going through his blurry ears, sounded like the subconscious voice he hears all the time. Maybe his subconscious was all just you.

Those were all fragments of proof of how much he loved you. To think you returned his feelings—he didn’t know what to think. 

“Really?” He sounded so surprised. It was almost heartbreaking.

“Yes,” you nodded, “even when we both have clothes on.” 

He looked down and touched your shirt. “Oh, you are wearing a shirt.”

“Yes, I am.”

He gazed at it briefly before, with an invisible shrug, leaned his cheek against your chest. “You’re warm. I like it.”

You smiled, feeling like your lips were about to extend out of your cheeks to become wider. “You’re cold because you took your shirt off!”

He scoffed and said nothing. Hyunjin was unguarded and half-stripped before you, chastely snuggling up against your chest while slurred words spilled out of his mouth like a mantra. You didn’t try to understand him; he wasn’t looking to have a conversation. You just wanted to lay together without a thought or a worry. Occasionally, he would sit up just to look at your face, then hum and lay back down, continuing to rot. 

It was such a wondrous thing.

“Do you want to wash up and go to bed?” you asked. “Are you tired?” 

“No. I want to stay here. I like it here.” 

Hyunjin let out a dreamy sigh. He threw his head back with a smile, his hair hitting your jaw and sprawled over the crook of your neck. He tilted his head then, letting it fall along your shoulder. His eyes were closed with bliss, and he laughed to himself. When he opened his eyes, there was only the shadow of your side profile, which was good for him. He wanted to kiss the skin, filled with close-up bumps and blemishes. It was a side profile he’ll know for the rest of his life, and he’ll whisper ‘I love you’ to a million times. 

“I have a secret to tell you,” he mentioned.

You raised a brow, intrigued, and urged him to continue, “What is it?”

He bit his lower lip and scurried off your body. You sat up straighter then, watching as he stumbled over to the front door for the bag he discarded on the ground. He crouched to pull a small notebook out easily before returning to you. He stopped by the couch, his eyes concentrated as he stared at the notebook's cover. Then, without another word, he dropped back onto your body and made you wrap your arms around him like before. 

“I draw you all the time. In my sketchbook.” 

He grinned out loud in the same way you would grin at him. His fingers played with the blank pages before, finally, he arrived at one filled with traces of his pencil. You gasped. He wasn’t spilling nonsense. The page was filled with beautiful sketches of your face, and so was the next one and the next. He kept flipping his notebook, and everywhere you could find pieces of yourself dotted out sincerely by his hand. 

They didn’t look to come from memories, but they were definitely from moments not even you could remember. But Hyunjin remembered everything because he detailed it all in the lines. His inability to not consume all of you tied his hands together and made you his ultimate muse. Almost unconsciously, for a while, the only thing he knew to draw was you. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t know how else to pour you out of his mind. 

It was overwhelming, and you could see that. He was showing you all his blood work: mornings spent missing you with the tip of a crooked pencil, afternoons spent recalling your features in his head, nights spent tracing your face with his lead-filled fingers under a desk lamp. If he could inhale these sketches of you into his bloodstream and poison himself with those images, leaving an organ tattoo of your presence, he would. 

“I love this one,” he said, pointing at a full-body sketch of you. “I was waiting for you at the coffee shop, and you were walking towards me. I love it. I was so excited to see you. I memorized what you wore.” 

This sketchbook stayed with him all the time; he felt like he was bringing you with him, like a kid refusing to let go of their blanket. You wouldn’t know anything about that. The beautiful boy in your arms admired you constantly, from the farthest corner of his soul to the tip of his button nose, and you wouldn’t know anything about it. 

“I draw you all the time,” he added. “I will never forget what you look like, but I always want to remember.” 

The implications of that didn’t fly over your head. His addition to telling you the truth disabled your ability to attribute the fact that he draws you in his free time to him being artistic. But more than being afraid of rejection, you feared a mutual connection. The only thing worse than you finding Hyunjin loveable was him finding that you were as well. 

“Do you know why?” he asked, looking at you expectantly. 

You wavered. You hadn’t spoken since he showed you his sketches. “Why?”

Hyunjin stared at you. Within the drunken fog of his eyes, there was earnestness. “Because I love you too.”

You didn’t know what to say, and you wouldn’t. There was solace in choosing to believe that he didn’t mean it. When tomorrow arrives, and he returns sober, you wouldn’t speak of this conversation at all. When night comes tomorrow, and he’s had a full day of rest, Hyunjin would vividly recall how you took care of him and told him you loved him, and he would draw you again. 

“Do you like them?”

His question snapped you out of your trance. Your sight blurred through a sudden quake before it focused on his face. Hyunjin pouted, his fingers tapping patiently at his notebook for your response. You softened with love and squeezed him in a hug, a smile blooming on your face. 

“I’ve never liked anything more,” you complimented, “except for you!”

His legs kicked when you nuzzled your face to the back of his neck. His heart filled, like the sun could fill up a piece of land and the moon could fill up a river, and in return for his joy, he let out a boisterous laugh. He didn’t hear how it sounded with yours. Still, it was such a wondrous thing. Your love was such a wondrous thing.

[jean0farc]

claiming the jackpot.

// warnings

non-canon compliant, a bit out of character. yandere. relationship inexperience. implied noncon.

// author’s note

Aventurine’s a little out of character for this imagine. There’s not much content of him on the wiki and I’ve been itching to write some stuff about this guy since he’s pretty new to Star Rail.

»»————-　♡　————-««

Aventurine has always been pleased with the idea of claiming prizes he deemed rightfully his. Toying with the minds of others was what he did best; besides, what is there to satisfy him more than winning a game of chance? Gambling has always been his best feat, but moreover, he wasn’t the type to easily throw a fit over his losses in the heat of the game. In fact, these challenges and obstacles to this game of chance was what made him all the more feisty and insistent.

When he met you, he began staking out his claim like a panther and insisted you to be respectfully his and only his. Months into the friendship, you always showed signs of naivety since this was not a situation you had adequate experience around. Aventurine was unlike other men around. He treasured you, spent time with you, made you feel beautiful, loved, and appreciated for doing the bare minimum. Despite all this, you grew tired of his antics considering you weren’t actually ready for a serious relationship.

“He’s always this vibrant” — you thought. And you were right. He always displayed exemplary behavior when dealing with colleagues and members of the Astral Express. That was just a part of his charm. You chose to look at the big picture and imagine how your experiences with Aventurine would turn out provided you said ‘yes’ to his will of wanting to lure you in. But that wasn’t enough. You needed to dig deeper into the core of his being and sense any form of red flags in him while it still wasn’t too late.

There are many layers to Aventurine’s self — one that’s charismatic, friendly, and outgoing. Yet that’s just a tip of the iceberg according to your family and friends. What he hid from the masses, was what he displayed right before you at this very moment. A pissed, sarcastic Aventurine filled with pride and deceit.

The question remained in your thoughts — was a relationship with this shady, questionable man really worth pursuing?

There’s not enough chemistry between the two of you, was there? If you observed anything from the man himself, it was that he developed an addiction for gambling, playing games of endless possibilities and luck. And god knows what he does to his most precious jackpots.

You, a prize in his eyes, felt an overwhelming sense of urgency to run from his touch. Sure, he was polite enough to lend you some money for your college fees. But such treatment just wasn’t worth a reason for you to pursue hooking up with him. Before you could face Aventurine head on, he lifted you up bridal style, shoving you on the mattress with your face first. There’s not much you can do right now.

Sure, he was glammed up in luxurious jewelry and sported handsome, youthful features. He could spoil anyone he held dear for he had the gold to do so. But something wasn’t right. This relationship wasn’t right. It just felt so out of your control and the timing was off. But he didn’t stop.

Your mouth eventually complied with his tongue. Aventurine guides you through the whole process of pulling you in, claiming you as the grand prize of tonight’s game. It’s not as if you could resist any of his advances from now. He’s got millions of eyes glued upon you just like he had millions in his pocket.

“Beautiful. Such an eager little sweetheart. I’m going to take you nice and deep, and you’re going to be a good doll for me, yes?”

“N-no!!! Please, let me go!” you pleaded. Pled till your throat ran dry. You struggled against Aventurine’s strength as you shook your head from left to right, indicating your resistance towards his touch. “I swear, I’ll do anything, just please, let me go! I’m sick of our relationship being this way!”

“Ah, ah, ah, better watch what you say, little one. Those who seize the night may be out to get you, yet none of them went the extra mile to actually express their love for you.” Aventurine chuckled condescendingly. “From this day onward, you’re going to regret leaving me.”

Against your will, you felt something similar to a sword hilt impale you like an uppercut, It was Aventurine’s length stretching every last bit of your sanity, hell, even your pride.

His moans. You couldn’t get enough of it. Despite being naked and restrained in his king-sized bed, you felt his body heat radiate in front of yours, feeling the friction of his thrusts that grew guttural as time passed.

“Hah. I’ve been addicted to the art of gambling for quite a long time now, and it’s been a long time noting how……fascinating it is to actually claim the most precious prize of them all…..All of it, as mine.”

“I’m not yours! Ngh!” you exclaimed, stifling a moan.

“Yes, my dear. Yes, you are.” Aventurine sneered. “One of these days, you’re going to get used to this. Used to having my eyes set upon the fragile, feeble you. I’m going to meet you in that beautiful afterglow as I make this relationship the best you ever had. And that time….is tonight.”

“It would be better if you just do as I say. Otherwise, I’ll just find more ways to sneak up on you and make you mine.” he added.

With that, he, once again, pressed his lips onto yours, shutting you up for the sake of shutting you up.

And there he was, plainly confessing his undying love (and lust) for your presence as a lovely jackpot.

[crystal-rhyming]

boyfriend!bakugou who took his time cherishing his secret crush on you before confessing.

boyfriend!bakugou who take the 'best-friend' title seriously that he would undeniably jump off the ledge if he ever got rejected by you (because that ruins your friendship).

boyfriend!bakugou who crushed you in a hug after you gave him a light, airy laugh at his nerves as you tell him you're in love with him too.

boyfriend!bakugou who proudly will hold your hand anywhere in public, regardless of his reputation.

boyfriend!bakugou who loves your little moments and counts them as his prized possesion—all that while he presses loving kisses all over your face in the emergency stairs of the hall where the event was held.

boyfriend!bakugou who memorizes your likes and dislikes like they're his own. he knows how you fold your clothes and he knows the shampoo scent your loathe.

boyfriend!bakugou who understands you more than anybody in this whole wide world. one sigh from you and he can tell what mood you're in, the grin on your face when your favorite series has dropped, the dancing fingers on your knee when you're anxious, or the fast blinks of your eyes when you're nervous.

boyfriend!bakugou who actually loves linking his pinky with you at night because you two still want to touch each other despite some summer night is too hot for you and his body radiates too much warmth.

boyfriend!bakugou who bakes sweet treats when he got the time to but he'd rather die than admitting that he does it for you—not simply because he wants you taste test them for him.

boyfriend!bakugou who goes to bed after you because he will always prepare a glass of water next to your side of the bed in case you got thirsty at night.

boyfriend!bakugou who has nothing but adoration in his eyesy like you're the only thing worth worshipping when you trace his scars.

boyfriend!bakugou who takes you out to late-night car drives just because you struggle to sleep.

boyfriend!bakugou who notices you're running low on your perfume, makeups, or snacks and buy them for you when he goes out.

boyfriend!bakugou who will always wonder what he'd be like if he hadn't gathered his courage to confess to you that one night. because to him, you're both the person he wants and he needs. the only one to touch his deepest layers and the only person who can talk him down.

boyfriend!bakugou who subconsciously has decided to dedicate his whole life to you.

boyfriend!bakugou who took his time cherishing each little moments he has with you.

[stjohnstarling]

Among the stranger people I’ve hung around in my life was this group of punks who worked on an insect farm. This being a farm that bred crickets and mealworms to feed to pets and people (yes people eat crickets.) Apparently insects in a large enough quantity will generate an immense amount of heat and it was always sweltering in the warehouse. Anyway.

There were four of them, they all seemed to hate each other, and despite making next to no money they'd managed to acquire a house together. Because they had infinite reptile food they decided start a lizard breeding business in the basement.

Somehow I ended up on their party invite rotation so I got to visit them periodically and see how the lizards were getting on. The basement filled wall to wall with terrariums full of chameleons and bearded dragons. Some of it spilled over onto the main floor. Crickets escaped and the house perpetually sounded like an evening in late August.

Their prized beast was this monitor lizard that they kept in a huge tank the living room. The kind that grows to be a metre long and is entirely capable of killing people. She was a baby but they were planning on having her be free roaming in the house once she got big enough. They had this big pink kiddie pool they’d let her crawl around in.

I wish I could tell you their friendship slowly fractured as the monitor lizard matured, feasting on escaped crickets, growing ever larger like the gaps between their words to each other, until it became the size of a crocodile and devoured them one by one. Sadly, none of that happened. For all I know they’re titans of the reptile industry by now - I haven’t seen them in years. They stopped having the parties after someone stole hundreds of dollars worth of mealworms.

[bunni-v1]

CONGRATS FOR THE 500 FOLLOWERS! 💫💫 can i request letters A, B, O, P, Q, S and Y of the sfw list for Malleus and Vil? But in a platonic way, as friendship, if you can<3

🍓I've had this one sitting in my inbox for a while because I've just not been in the mood to write for Malleus. He's a special flavor of autistic that I can only write when the inspiration strikes lol.

Malleus

A - Affection: Malleus is VERY affectionate! He's been loved on a lot by Lilia, so I wouldn't say he's touch-starved, but he does act like he is. He always wants to be holding you in some way, and if you are in his vicinity he will come and find you just to be near you. Always greets you with a hug and a kiss, regardless of who is around or where you're at. Worst of all, he gets pouty and throws a Malleus brand temper tantrum if you deny him any affection.

B - Best Friend: It's really weird to be best friends with Malleus. You sorta found him somewhere on accident, spoke with him, and gained yourself a dragon. You don't ever see him in any place that is conventional or normal, and you rarely actually "hang out" with him. When you do see him, though, he's prone to have these really deep interesting conversations with you and then disappear. Quite freaky.

O - Open: It doesn't occur to Malleus that, maybe, he doesn't need to tell you his whole life story at random times of the day. I mean, seriously, you guys will be doing something like study, and then he'll drop that fattest lore bomb known to man and leave you speechless.

P - Patience: Not very. In fact, most things that would piss other people off just tend to make him laugh. He's essentially a god amongst men with an ego to match, and that ego is anything BUT fragile. It's hard to make him mad. You can upset him and make him out, but anger is rare and SCARY.

Q - Quizzes: He's both really good and very bad. Malleus both has some much going on in his head and absolutely nothing. He remembers important dates, and all of your favorite things, but when it comes to like pulling through on important stuff? He sucks! He forgets! He feels so bad after too, like on his knees begging for forgiveness. Then, at the same time, he'll remember something really obscure that you mentioned in passing and it makes you wonder how the hell his mind works.

S - Security: Oh, Malleus is the MOST protective out of anyone in the twst cast. He's a dragon, after all, and they're mostly known for protecting things. You are his most prized and adored treasure, and he protects you as such. I'm talking like, he's always by your side, always watching you, always ready to jump at the chance to show you how amazing and powerful he is. Now, he never gets the chance because who in their right mind would ever upset THE Malleus Draconia, but he still keeps hoping.

Y - Yuck: He hates it when his title is held over his head. He wants friends and connections and love, but his crown gets in the way. If you ever try to use him for his power that would be an instant no from him, especially if he thought you loved him for more than just his position.

Vil

A - Affection: Vil is like... moderately affectionate. Now, he's not exactly the sweetest person. Vil is all about appearances, and hanging off in public doesn't exactly look good. In private, though? He's making up for the missed affection tenfold. Now he's not a huge cuddler, but he is a kisser. And kiss you he does, everywhere. He's so pleased with the bright red lipstick marks all over your face. On top of that, he pampers you like a princess. Massages, face masks, sweets and tea. Only the best for his darling.

B - Best Friend: Vil just decides that you're friends, and then you're stuck with him. It's really not bad though! He's quite a gossip, so you hear all the latest drama around the halls of NRC. You get free makeovers and get to relax around Pomefiore whenever you want. Most importantly, your social status rises to the top, because any friend of Vil's could be a friend worth having.

O - Open: Vil? Open? Please. He's got walls up greater than the wall of China. It takes him a lot of time to open up to you because all of those stupid emotions he's feeling make him so weak. Once you get the first bit of Vil lore, though, he's like a running faucet and just spills everything everywhere. It really makes you both grow so much closer though.

P - Patience: Eh. He's not awful, better than Riddle at least. Vil does have a temper though, and it's not as uncommon to see it as you may think. Now, he rarely ever gets mad at you unless you do something so stupid that he can't help it in his disbelief. Still, his anger is a sight to witness, and much worse when it's directed at you.

Q - Quizzes: Vil is very good at knowing everything there is to know about you. He writes it down, actually! In his notes app! He has a whole list that's just about you and your likes and dislikes and everything you tell him that he thinks is important. He makes sure to utilize it all the time, and it's really sweet how seen he makes you feel.

S - Security: Vil is moderately protective of you. He doesn't really worry about anyone in your classes, it's rare to find someone actually willing to mess with him. What he is worried about is the media. If they got ahold of you, his more intense fans might try to rip you apart. So, he shields you from that as best as he can, because he doesn't want to see you hurt.

Y - Yuck: If you only want him for his beauty. He is pretty, he knows that, and he understands that it's likely a part of why you love him. However, if you only seem to care about how pretty he is or only compliment his looks, he hates it. There is more to him, why can't you see that?

[ashcal99]

Collarbones : Jasper Whitlock Hale V

Chapter Five

"I can see your collarbones and baby I'm scared, Never thought I'd be so unprepared"

Summary: Camila Johnson was only 16 when she was diagnosed with leukemia. By the time she had turned 17, the doctors had tried everything to save her. Her family is close to giving up hope when they hear of a doctor who may be able to help her. The only problem is, he lives on the opposite side of the country. The small family soon decides to move to the small town in Washington, in efforts to prolong her life. In doing so, her life changes forever.

Warnings: Eventual smut (18+ only), mentions of death, depression, violence, descriptions of disease and weight loss, general angst, slow burn, blink and you'll miss it mention of sex, mention of opioids

Words: 8.1k

A/N: Please lmk if you'd like to be added to the tag list. This one is super long, hope you enjoy x

Soundtrack

Previous Chapter

Series Masterlist

——————

January 31st, 2005

Camila sat there, frozen in shock, silent for what seemed like a century to Jasper. He found himself once again wishing that he had Edward’s power. To his delight, she didn’t look horrified, just shocked. But he wouldn’t push it this time, wouldn’t push her to speak before she was ready, because her whole future hung on this one moment. His whole future with her. 

Finally, she spoke. “W-who makes the decision to change that future?” She asked, voice croaking on its way out. It was the only thing she could think to ask. Every other thought had become muddled in her mind.

Jasper blinked, looking down at their intertwined fingers. “You.” He said simply, pausing before he continued. It was only fair to give her the full warning of what this could mean. “It wouldn’t be the easy solution though. It’s excruciatingly painful, changing. You would loose everything you have now. Your parents, your friends, everyone would need to think that you had died.” He explained gravely, hanging his head in shame. Suddenly, he felt wrong having this conversation. Ashamed that he was even suggesting making her give up everything. It felt selfish, because, in truth, it was.

Surprising even herself, his explanation didn’t hurt. She had spent so long preparing herself to have to say goodbye, that maybe it would be worth it to start new. Either way, she would lose them and they would lose her. What scared her is what this would mean for her and the Cullens. She knew that Alice expected a friendship to form between them. More importantly, she knew that forever with Jasper didn’t seem bad in the slightest, maybe even nice. Maybe, just maybe, she would be able to act on her feelings for him after all. Maybe breaking that promise she had made to herself wouldn’t be so bad after all.

That thought stopped her in her tracks though. What if Jasper didn’t feel that same pull towards her that she felt towards him? The last thing that she wanted to do was be a burden on him. A burden that lasted for an eternity no less. “I’ll have to think on that.” She decided, gulping as the thought of making that enteral decision settled in the pit of her stomach. 

“Of course. Take all the time you need.” Jasper said. He had expected as much. He couldn’t expect her to make that decision in that moment. She had only just found out that Vampires existed and now there he was, asking her what she wanted to do with eternity. As much as the suspense was killing him, he knew that he would be willing to wait as long as it would take for her to make that choice. The prize would be well worth the wait.

Camila shook her head, trying to push the overwhelming information from her mind if even for a moment. So much had been said in the last hour that she was beginning to have a migraine, the dull pain throbbing more and more by the second. “I’m going to go grab some water.” She croaked out, her throat suddenly feeling as dry as a desert. She reluctantly let her grip on his hand loosen as she pushed herself to the edge of the mattress. Willing her sore muscles to pull her to a stand, she took a few steps towards the door into the living room. 

The room blurred for a moment, her mind going fuzzy with dizziness suddenly. Stars shot around her vision as her knees began to buckle. Before she had time to process what was happening, before she had time to try and catch herself from falling, ice cold hands were on her. One on her waist, keeping her upright. The other gently cupping the base of her head and the back of her neck, long fingers sprawled across the space, keeping her head steady. 

“Woah.” She said blinking rapidly. She was almost certain that it wasn’t just the dizziness that had made him a blur of speed. “How did you get over here so quickly?” She asked, confusion clear on her face.

Sending her a soft smile, he answered. “It’s a vampire thing.” He said simply. 

“Ohh.” She said, nodding in understanding. She guessed there was a lot more to understand than she had realized. The whole thing had happened so quickly, she was just now getting the time to process his touch. Blood rushed to her cheeks, and she hoped the embarrassment that she felt, she would be able to blame on the near fainting as well as the blush. “Sorry, I think I just stool up too quick.” She said, feeling as if the heat in her cheeks would never go away. 

Jasper shook his head. “You don’t need to apologize.” He said, brushing his thumb along the exposed skin of her arm in what he hoped was a comforting manor. Dark bruises littered the pale skin, and found himself wishing, hoping that his fingerprints wouldn’t show up along with the others soon. He knew that with her sickness came bruising easily, but he dreaded the day that he would inevitably cause one of the purple splotches. “Why don’t you go and lay down? I’ll go get some water for you.” He offered, dropping his hold on her once he could see that she could hold her own weight once more. 

Nodding, she lowered her gaze bashfully, slightly embarrassed that she couldn’t even do a simple task without narrowly avoiding an accident. “Thanks.” She muttered as she made her way back to the bed, lowering herself slowly onto the cool sheets. 

Jasper made his way out of her bedroom, when, suddenly a burning tore through his throat. Realizing as he heard a car door shut outside, that her mother must have just arrived back from the store, he rushed forward to turn the lock and open the front door for her. A brief flash of shock crossed her face as she looked at the pale figure in the doorframe. “Jasper, lovely to see you again.” She greeted as a smile formed on her lips. “Didn’t know you were staying after driving Camila home.” She said. 

He hurried forward, at a human speed of course, to help gather the plastic bags that were filled with food from the trunk. “Sorry, Ma’am, I don’t mean to intrude.” He apologized, not wanting to be a burden or make the woman uncomfortable from his presence.

Michelle shook her head, furrowing her eyebrows. “Of course not, you’re never anything but a perfect gentleman. Speaking of which, you really don’t need to help bring those in, Hon.” She said sweetly, going to grab the bags from his hands.

“Nonsense, it’t no bother at all.” He reassured, southern accent thick as he gathered the remaining bags. As he turned, seeing her shocked face, he realized that he may have been overzealous in trying to grab them all at once, halfway exposing his superhuman strength purely by accident. He hunched his shoulders slightly, trying to play off that they at least looked heavy, as he let out a light laugh. “Dad always said it should only take one trip.” He joked, trying to play it off.

She nodded slowly, letting out a soft laugh her self. “Guess so.” She said, grabbing her keys from her purse to lock the vehicle. “How is Carlisle? We have an appointment with him tomorrow.” She asked politely, trying to find conversation to fill the silence as the two made their way back into the home to the kitchen.

Dropping the bags carefully on the kitchen counter, he turned to her. “He’s good. Busy at the hospital, been taking extra shifts lately to help with a shortage of doctors.” He answered.

The woman smiled at his words. “He’s a miraculous man. I hope he’s not over working himself.” She said, slightly concerned. Jasper smiled at the inside joke, humming in response. Carlisle often had to force himself to go home when it was like this. Right before he had met Edward had been the worst timing for this. Hundreds were dying all around his from the Spanish Influenza and there he was, wishing that he could be working, helping twenty-four hours a day but knowing he couldn’t. No human could operate like that, and that’s how he needed to appear. Human. 

One word in particular that she had said had stuck out, however. Miraculous. He hoped that she hadn’t meant the word in a literal way. He knew from conversations with Carlisle as well as with Camila that this is what they had been hoping for. A miracle. It hurt him to know that there would be none coming for them. Either decision the Camila would end up making, they would lose her. It was impossible to change that fact. Impossible to make the loss easier for them.

But, clearly a miracle was what they had been hoping for. Camila had told him what had happened when she had been diagnosed. The cancer had progressed too far for chemo to really have any chance of working, so they hadn’t done it. There was no point of putting her though all of that if it didn’t have a chance of working. That’s why they had moved to Forks. Not only for the cheaper cost of living, but in hopes that Carlisle could help. But Jasper knew better. He knew that Camila’s life would end soon, and there was nothing left to do to prevent it from happening.

Shaking himself from his thoughts, he cleared his throat before speaking. “I was getting Camila some water when I heard you get back from the store.” He said, trailing off towards the end. 

She smiled, grateful to have him there, trying to take care of her baby for her. He clearly cared a great bit for her, and she only hoped that he wouldn’t grow too attached. “There’s some bottled water in the fridge.” She told him, moving to start unpacking the bags of groceries. 

“Thanks.” He answered, moving to grab one of the bottles before heading back to Camila’s room. Closing the door softly behind him, he looked up from the creaking floorboards to find her fast asleep. He couldn’t stop the smile from growing on his lips as he peered at her sleeping form. There she was, as peaceful as could be, small puffs of air leaving her parted lips. 

He couldn’t stop himself from staring as he lost himself in the view. Her cheekbones were prominent, her face clearly thinned from the illness. Darkness circled her eyes, leaving soft purple rings. She was absolutely beautiful, of course, but it was obvious to his advanced eyes that she was unwell. He wasn’t sure how he had missed it before, and he wandered, now, how she had looked before all of this. What she would look like if she changed. He shook his head, needing to stop before he got carried away.

Breaking himself from his trance, he pushed forward, setting the perspiring water bottle on her makeshift nightstand of cardboard boxes. He turned, reaching to grasp the edge of her blanket before draping it softly along her thin frame, watching closely as she shifted slightly under the fluffy fabric. He turned back towards the door, deciding that he should leave, seeing as she clearly needed the rest.

“Jasper?” A soft voice broke him from his thoughts. His head shot back, looking towards the direction in which the croaky voice sounded from. Camila remained in the same spot, eye squinted as she looked at his frame from her place on the bed. “Please don’t leave.” She said, so soft that he wasn’t sure if he would’ve heard it without his advanced hearing. How could he say no to her?

He knew he couldn’t, as if he wanted to in the first place, so he just nodded his head and walked straight back to her. He eased his way under the covers, leaning slightly on the wall behind the head of the mattress, half sitting, half laying down, not wanting to ease too far into the situation, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. She sighed in content, laying her head softly on his arm, and hummed a small ‘thanks’.

Pretty much immediately, she was back to sleeping. He could hear her heart rate had slowed to a steady pace, breathing mellowing back out as she sunk deeper into her sleep. The rhythm was comforting to him. Despite being in the next room, his throat still burned from the scent of her mother, and luckily for him, Camila was a nice distraction from this. 

It probably wasn’t the best idea to be there alone in the first place, no one there to stop him if something bad happened. It had been one thing when him and Camila had been alone, that much he could trust himself with. Now though, Michelle was home and her blood was calling out to him. It was just a matter of time before her father arrived home from work, and then the burning would only intensify. But she was worth it. He could never say no to her. He would never be able to say no to her. 

So, he remained there, unmoving for more minutes than he could count, not wanting to wake her, as she shifted slightly, moving further onto him as she rested her head comfortably on his chest. If his heart still beat it would’ve been erratic. 

Without meaning to, they had had more physical contact in the past twelve hours that they had ever before. He knew he should stop himself, knowing that he should keep the barriers between them strong. Not wanting to accidentally hurt her, but he couldn’t help himself as he wrapped his arm securely around her frame. He couldn’t help but embrace her as she did the same to him, even if she wasn’t fully aware of it. 

He could feel his feelings for her grow by the second, vaguely aware that they were teetering on the edge of love. He knew it was ridiculous, having only known her for such a short amount of time, but he couldn’t help it. Others in his family had explained the feeling to him before, so he was aware of the fact that it all moved much quicker for his kind. Vampire’s mated for life, and if he felt like this with her already, if Alice had truly seen them together, in love, in the future, he knew he was completely and utterly fucked. He knew, in that moment, that if she did chose to die, to let her illness take her away from him, he was done for.

——————

February 1st, 2005

Camila’s second appointment had been scheduled for directly after she finished with school, and she was grateful that she wouldn’t miss her daily calculous class with Jasper. She had come to enjoy the short forty-five minute class, having the excuse to see him everyday. On top of this, she had spent yet another lunch break at the Cullen table, by the request of not only Jasper, but Alice as well. 

After her conversation with Tyler the day previous, she had been more than happy to  take them up on their offer. Tyler had deliberately avoided her between classes that day, and if it was either him being jealous or him just avoiding her all together because of her outburst, she didn’t care. 

She just couldn’t bring herself to give a fuck anymore. Did she really need friends that shit on other people like he had done to Jasper anyway? Okay, so maybe he hadn’t completely shit on him, but he had been rude, and tried to pass it off as caring for her. Fuck that. If he wanted to remain friends, then he could apologize. Her relationship with Jasper, whatever that relationship entailed, wasn’t going to change on account of the Tyler’s ‘concern’.

So she had graciously excepted their invite at lunch, and luckily for her, Edward had been absent from the table, having chosen to sit at another with the company of Bella Swan. Camila chose not question his antics, not even in her head, as she knew that he would be able to hear her thoughts, but she couldn’t help of think of Jasper’s words. Either way it would end badly. The words sent an uncomfortable chill down her spine, but she would ignore it. It wasn’t anymore her business than her and Jasper were Tyler’s.

Her and Jasper. The new information he had given her had been cycling through her mind ever since. A chance at forever with him. It scared her. She knew how she felt towards him, and she knew that those feelings were only growing stronger, and if she was being honest with herself, they scared her. Scared her that he wouldn’t feel the same way for her. In truth, she didn't know what to do. Her only hope was to wait and see how things would pan out. To hope for the best. 

After a long day of school work and overthinking everything Jasper had told her, by the time her appointment with Carlisle had rolled around, her head was throbbing. She wasn’t sure what she was hoping for him to say as they sat there in the waiting room with her parents. Wasn’t sure what she was hoping for him to do once he had seen the results of her latest run of tests, but what she did know was what she hoped he wouldn’t say. She hoped that he wouldn’t suggest anything expensive. 

It was clear that her parents held too much hope in him. Too much hope that he could fix what was wrong with her, but she knew better. She knew that she would die soon. She had known that since the day she had been diagnosed. It had been a gut wrenching feeling that she couldn’t shake, despite being told that there was a chance that she could get better. She knew better than to believe it, than to hope. Jasper’s words had only confirmed that for her. 

So she did hope, with every fiber of her being that he would do what was best and not dig them an even deeper financial hole than they had already dug themselves. Of course, once he had sat them in his office, tried to make small talk, attempting to soften the blow of the bad news, he had confirmed what she had already known. The tests had all come back unanimously. “Three to five months.” he said, face grave as he delivered the information.

Her father drooped in his seat, defeated, but determined not to cry. To hold himself together for his wife and daughter. Her mother almost immediately shook with silent sobs, small squeaks leaving her lips as she attempted to breath through the tears. Camila, however, remained unmoving in her seat, face blank of emotion. She had expected as much. Maybe a bit more time, but not by a lot. So she had a little bit less time to make her decision, so be it. Oh well, better not to drag it out anyway, right? 

Maybe it made her seem heartless, but really, she was just tired. Tired of trying to be sad about her life ending. There was only so long you could be upset, knowing it would end soon anyway, and she had already been given enough time for that. The months following her diagnosis had been bad enough as it was. Loosing her friends. Loosing her boyfriend who she had thought loved her. She had already been pushed to that breaking point, so to hear that her pain and suffering would end soon, one way or another, was not the worst news she could hear. What pained her was her parent’s reactions, and she knew that they were both trying the best they could to not upset her more, so she tried her best to ignore that pain. 

She had always hoped that maybe they would try for another kid once she was gone. They had both been so young when she was born, so it was entirely possible. She knew the past year had been torturous for them too, but in an entirely different way. So, was it that bad for her to be thankful that they would be able to start their healing even easier than she had hoped for? To maybe start new? She didn’t think so.

Carlisle had been solemn as he continued delivering the news to them. The news that there were no treatments that would help her at that stage. The news that the meds she had been taking had not been working to slow the progression of the cancer like they had hoped. The news that her liver was beginning to show signs of deterioration. The news that their daughter’s body just wasn’t sustaining her life the way that it should. 

“The best thing to do in this situation is to try and make her as comfortable as possible.” He said, face laced with sadness. “We can up her pain meds. This should not only help with the pain, but also the shortness of breath that you’ve been reporting.” He said, addressing the last part to Camila as he gave her a soft, sympathetic smile. They no longer had to worry about the risk of addiction, only to ease her discomfort. And when the time came, that she was on her last branch of life, they would move her to hospice and start administering morphine on a regular basis. And then she would be gone. Easy enough she supposed. Definitely a cheeper route than chemo or radiation therapy, so she couldn’t complain.

The car ride home had been silent. She didn’t know what to say and clearly neither did her parents. The pain was palpable in the atmosphere, so much so that she was glad when they arrived home. Glad to be able to be alone in her room. Give them the space they needed to feel all that they needed to feel without having to try and be strong for her benefit. 

So, that’s what they did. They felt. She could hear her mother’s sobs through the thin walls of the home. Hear her father trying to comfort her to no avail, and eventually hear his quiet sobs as well. Sleep had not come easy that night, so abnormally, she had been awake when the light tapping started tat her window.

She had thought she had been imagining things at first, maybe hallucinating from the lack of sleep in the past day, but then it came again. Tap tap tap. Slowly, she rolled out of the covers of her bed, inching her way towards the window, where she ripped open the thin curtain. Her body jolted as a small squeal left her lips, clutching at her chest for dear life. “Jesus. You’re going to give me heart attack one of these days.” She complained, unlatching the lock on the creaky frame of the window. Using all of her strength to pry it open, she stepped back aways to let Jasper climb through into her bedroom. 

“What did I tell you, Darlin’? The name is Jasper. You should know this by now.” He teased, smirk deepening his dimples as she rolled her eyes at him. “Carlisle told me how it went today at the hospital, hope you don’t mind him breaking HIPAA and all.” He said, the smirk dropping from his face as he raising his hand to brush a stray piece of hair from her face, resting a comforting palm on her cheek after.

She blinked, not having it in herself to even try and stop her racing heart. “I would’ve ended up telling you anyway.” She answered, not looking away from his amber eyes. 

“I know.” He muttered. “Come here.” He said, pulling her gently into his chest. He knew what she needed. Despite her hard exterior, her emotionless reaction that Carlisle had informed him of, he could feel her emotional pain. What caused it, knowing how soon she would die, knowing that there really was nothing to cure her, or seeing her parents in pain, he didn’t know. Either way, she needed the comfort, and that he could give her.

She buried her face in the fabric of his hoodie, letting tears that she didn’t even know she had flow free. She didn’t know exactly what she was crying about, not caring enough to try and figure it out. She only knew that he was holding her, and that was enough. So that night he stayed. Stayed until the early hours of the morning when she awoke to dress for school. Stayed and held her in his arms as her tears left stains in the fabric of his clothes. Stayed as she clenched that very same fabric in her fists, refusing to let go as sleep finally overcame her. 

Sure, the burning in his throat was twice as bad, because he had missed his hunting and two more humans were sleeping just down the hallway, veins pumping full of sweet smelling, temping blood. But in that moment he didn’t care. He would endure anything for this girl and he knew it. 

——————

February 3rd, 2005

The next few days had gone by slowly. Her parents had yet to bring up what had happened at the hospital. Whether that was because they couldn’t handle it, or because they thought it would upset her, she didn't know, but she was happy to avoid the conversation. The drive to school had been as if the whole ordeal hadn’t happened. Like she hadn’t listened in as her parents sobbed themselves to sleep. Like she couldn’t see the red puffy eyes of her mother’s that were left there as evidence. 

Her mother had smiled her best smile and tried to make conversation. “So, you and Jasper seem to be hanging out quite a bit.” She commented, causing a blush to creep up to Camila’s cheeks. Camila hummed in response, trying her best to hide the redness in her face as she looked out of the window, suddenly very interested in the trees blurring past. Seeing that she wasn’t going to verbally reply, she continued. “I like him. He’s very polite… and cute.” She said, wiggling her eyebrows her eyebrows as she nudged her daughter’s shoulder. 

Camila let out an exaggerated groan, running her hands over her warm face. “Mom, please.” She begged.

Michelle gasped dramatically. “What? I’m just making conversation.” She said teasingly.

“Please, anything but this topic.” Camila complained, the words muffled by her hands that remained in front on her face, trying to block her mother’s view of the red tinted cheeks.

“Ohhh…” Michele sighed out. “You like him, don’t you?” She asked. She already knew the answer of course. It was obvious, if only to her. She knew her daughter and she could tell how she felt towards the boy. 

Camila sighed in relief as she dropped her hands, Forks High School coming into view. She gathered her things in her lap as the car came to a stop, turning to address her mother once more. “Bye, Mom. I love you.” She said pointedly, earning a chuckle from the woman as she opened the door. 

She made her way inside the building, and as soon as her boot clad feet touched the smooth tile of the hallways, an arm slung around her shoulder. Her body immediately tensed, feeling the warmth coming from the touch. She looked up to see his face, Tyler Crowley. “Hey.” He said, nonchalantly.

She raised an eyebrow at him expectantly. Surely, that wasn’t how he was going to start the conversation, right? He couldn’t be serious, surely not. He grimaced, seeing her slight glare. “About the other day…” He said, scratching at the back of his neck awkwardly. Camila gestured with her hand, urging him to go on. What was he five? Did he seriously need someone to hold his hand while he was apologizing? 

He cleared his throat. “I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry. I shouldn’t butt in to your business.” He said, seemingly gritting his teeth as he forced the words out.

Camila nodded her head slowly, pulling herself out from his uncomfortable embrace. “You’re right, you shouldn’t.” She said simply. “That being said, don’t do it again, okay?” She asked. 

He nodded, giving her a tight lipped smile, as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “Promise.” He said, giving her a tight lipped smile.

Camila nodded her head curtly. “Good.” She said, and that was the end of that. Despite his apology, she didn’t exactly want to be around him in that moment. So, she had opted instead to talk sit next to Angela during class. Camila hadn’t gotten the time to talk to the girl much that week, much to her dismay, but luckily, her history class didn’t have assigned seats, so she took the opportunity and ran with it.

“Hey.” She called out, setting her things down on the desk as she pulled out the chair next to the girl. 

Angela looked up, seemingly startled by the sudden attention. “Hi, Camila.” She said, sending her a bright smile. “I haven’t seen you around much, how have you been?” She asked sweetly.

“Just busy with being at a new school and all. How about you?” Camila asked politely, giving her a kind smile. Angela had always been nothing but sweet to her, seemingly a genuinely nice person. 

Angela beamed in response. “Oh you know, crazy busy too. The school paper and twin brothers keep life interesting.” She said, giggling fondly at the thought of the two toddlers. Her smile remained as she leaned over slightly, dropping her voice to a whisper. “You seem to be busy with Jasper Hale more than anything.” She teased. 

God, how many people were going to bring him up? Was she that obvious? Was it that clear to everyone how she felt for him? She hoped not. “Shut up.” She said, nudging Angela’s shoulder with her own, not even attempting to hide the blush that had found its way back on her face.

“Oh come on.” Angela said, smile still shining bright. “You’ve got to see the way he looks at you.” She said. 

The words had sent Camila’s heart into overdrive. “Looks at me how?” She said, eyebrows furrowing as she looked down to her hands, spinning the rings that hung loosely off of her fingers.

Angela scoffed playfully. “Like you’re the only person in the room.” She said simply. Camila’s heart clattered against her ribcage. He didn't do that, surely not. Did he? “Has he asked you to prom yet?” She asked expectantly.

Shaking her head no, Angela looked disappointed. “Has anyone asked you yet?” Camila asked, trying to change the subject away from her and Jasper. 

“I keep thinking Eric’s going to ask me, then he just... doesn’t.” She said, letting out a disappointed sigh.

Camila perked up in her seat. “You should ask him.” She suggested. Angela’s eyes shot to her, a skeptical look plastered onto her face. “Take control. You’re a strong independent woman.” She reassured.

“Bella said the same thing.” Angela answered, dropping her eyes down, suddenly very interested in her chipping nail polish.

“See?” Camila asked brightly. “So you know it has to be true then.” She said finitely. Angela gave a soft, teetering smile and nodded.

The remainder of the class they spent taking turns reading through sections of their history book together, jotting down notes as they went. Once they were done with this, they moved on to their homework, finishing that fairly quickly as well. Angela was a good work partner. She took things seriously enough to get done with things fast, but also wasn’t too serious that she couldn’t hold basic conversation. 

By the end of the class, Camila had promised to accompany her and Jessica  with dress shopping for the prom next week. She wasn’t sure how she had been coerced into it, but knew it had something to do with her lack of ability to tell her no. She was just too nice, it was hard to reject the offer. As much as she was not looking forward to spending time with Jessica, Angela made up for it.

Like the day previous, she had opted to join Jasper at lunch. She was beginning to grow accustomed to the stares. They had to lose interest at some point, right? Surely the whole ordeal couldn’t be that interesting to them. Yeah, maybe they were attracting more today because Jasper currently had his arm slung around her shoulder, but that didn’t really give them the right to ogle. Sure, this time his arm was actually around her and not just the chair, but it was comforting. It helped ground her thoughts that had been racing all day and the coolness felt nice against her feverish skin. 

Edward, again was absent from the table, having joined Bella once again at a table of their own. A fact she was grateful for as she didn’t want him to be able to read her thoughts in that moment. Her thoughts that were swirling with Jasper. It was embarrassing if she was being honest. She couldn’t seem to get him out of her mind, and she wasn’t exactly keen on the idea of admitting to herself why that was. 

Alice perked up suddenly in her seat, turning to address the girl next to her. “Camila, I almost forgot. They’re doing blood typing in biology class today. Carlisle said you should skip out on it since you bleed a lot easier than most.” She explained, giving her a bright smile. She turned her gaze to Jasper momentarily, raising her eyebrows. “Jasper can drive you home if you’d like, right Jazz?” She asked expectantly.

Jasper rolled his eyes playfully at his sister. “I’d be happy to.” He said, smiling down at Camila.

A low snicker sounded from across the table. “Yeah, you’d be happy to.” Emmett muttered. A loud thwack sounded from under the table, followed by a groan of pain. “Okay, okay. No more teasing, Jasper. I got it.” He said, leaning down to hold his leg as he glared at the golden haired immortal. 

Camila couldn’t stop herself from laughing at the whole ordeal. In fact, she often found herself not able to hold back her laughter with the group of vampires. She was comfortable with them, able to be much more open than she ever had before. She had nothing to hide with them. It was exhilarating, being able to be herself.

A shrill bell rung out across the crowded room, signaling the end of their lunch hour. Jasper reluctantly removed his arm from her shoulders, pulling himself to a stand and opting instead to offer his hand to the girl. She excepted the invitation, letting him help pull her to her feet as she slung her backpack onto her free arm. He did the same, grabbing both of their mostly untouched trays of food, and dumping them in the trash bin on their way out of the cafeteria. 

Hand holding had become a normal thing for them over the past few days, always finding themselves in need of some form of physical contact from each other. Camila chose not to read too far into this, not wanting to become expectant of what his feelings for her were. So, they walked hand in hand, making sure nobody watched as the divided from the crowd to exit through the front doors and into the parking lot. A plus to attending such a small school compared to the last high school she had gone to, not as many adults to notice when a couple of students slipped out for the remainder of the day. 

The drive to her home was a short and silent one, both teens opting to bask in the comfortable silence as he drove, winding down the woodsy roads. Once they arrived, he pulled up to the curb, putting the car in park as he turned to her. “Do you want me to walk you in?” He asked, the corners of his mouth pulling up slightly. 

Camila’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You’re not coming in?” She asked, shoulders drooping in disappointment. She had grown so accustomed to spending time with the amber eyed teen that she hadn’t even questioned it, assuming he would spend time with her in her room like they had repeatedly in the past week. 

He shook his head lightly. “I’m sorry, Darlin’. Your mother’s home, and I haven’t hunted for a while…” He said trailing off, ashamed of his confession.

Camila smiled to him, leaning forward to plant a quick peck to his cheek, shocking even herself as she did so. Her lips tingled from the touch as she pulled back, offering a small smile. “It’s okay, Jazz. Promise.” She assured him, gathering her things as she moved to exit the car. 

“I can come by later tonight if you want, after I fix my whole… situation.” He said, catching her attention once more.

She turned back to him. “Only if you want to.” She said.

He grinned brightly at her. “I’ll always want to, Darlin’.” He said, smile not leaving his face as he watched her turn away and head towards the house. He sat there, unmoving as he made sure she made it safely inside. Waiting until she was out of view before he raised his hand to his cheek, feeling where she had left her kiss. Feeling the phantom burn of her warm plump lips on his icy skin.

——————

Jasper had come through with his promise that night, of course. This time the tapping on her window had sent her heart racing for a completely different reason altogether. Like always, as soon as she had laid her eyes on his face, all the stress from her day had lifted from her shoulders. If she didn’t know any better, she would’ve thought that he had been using his powers on her, but no. That was just the effect that he had on her. 

Oddly enough, even though it was nearly midnight, she wasn’t tired. She had taken some of her pain meds once she had gotten home from school and had almost immediately knocked out. So there she was, wide awake, Jasper by her side, hand in hand as what had become their usual. 

“How was hunting?” She asked, looking up to see that his eyes had returned to their normal golden color. 

He smiled to her. “Good, got a grizzly.” He said casually, causing her eyes to widen in shock. 

“Like, a grizzly bear?” She asked incredulously. He nodded, laughing lightly at her shock. “Guess you weren’t lying about vampires being crazy strong.” She muttered.

“You should see Emmet. Grizzlies are his favorite.” He said, laughing like it was some kind of inside joke.

Camila took the bait. “How come?” She asked, urged on by pure curiosity. 

Jasper paused for a moment, trying to think of the best way to tell the story. “Probably has to do with the fact that a bear is why he was changed.” He started, watching her face intently as he continued. “He had been mauled by one in 1935, when he was still human. Rosalie had been the one to find him and bring him to Carlisle. They’ve been together ever since.” He finished.

Camila stared up at him in awe. “That’s actually really cute.” She admitted. “Not the whole almost dying thing, but him and Rosalie.” She corrected herself. “Was that how it was with everyone else. Were they dying too?” She asked, curiously. 

Jasper hummed. “Some of us. Carlisle is the oldest, he was changed in 1663. His father had been a pastor, leading hunts for vampires. Carlisle ended up taking over for him at some point, and of course, unlike his father, he was intelligent enough to find a real coven. In the chaos of it all, he ended up getting bitten and left there, bleeding in the middle of the street. He hid in a cellar for the transformation and had tried killing himself at first.” He paused, hearing the soft gasp that left her lips. “We’re pretty indestructible though, he didn’t want to be a monster. Didn’t want to feed off of humans. That’s when he figured out that our kind could survive off of animal blood.” He ended.

Camila sat there in awe of the story. “Woah.” She muttered, eyes still wide. “Talk about superhuman self control.” She said, astounded. “Who was next?” She asked, not being able to put an end to her curiosity. 

He smiled at her, glad to see that the whole story was interesting to her, and hoping that it might also in some ways help prepare her for what was to come. “Then, was me, although it would be almost eighty-five years before I met Carlisle.” He said, pausing as he let her recall his story. “Then was Edward.” He continued. “He had been dying of Spanish influenza in 1918 in Chicago. He was being treated in the hospital where Carlisle was working at the time. His mother had been sick also. She had begged Carlisle as she died for him to save her son. So, when nobody was looking, he took Edward home, and changed him. Gave him a second chance at life.” He explained.

He sat there for a moment in silence, seeing pure interest and awe written on her face. “Then was Alice.” He continued. “She’s a big mystery. She has no memory of her human life. No idea how she was changed. She was alone for about twenty-eight years until she found me and brought me along with her to live with Carlisle in 1948.” He explained. He had of course briefly explained this part already, so he moved on to the next. 

“Then was Esme.” He continued. “She had met Carlisle briefly when she was sixteen when she had fallen out of a tree and broken her leg. He moved soon after, but he found her again about ten years later. She had been married to a man who abused her and had a child with him. The baby ended up dying only a few days later, it was a lot more common back then. She had been distraught as you can imagine and tried jumping off of a cliff. They thought she was dead when they brought her into the morgue, but Carlisle could hear that her heart was still beating. They got married a few years after she changed.” He finished.

Camila sat there for a moment, soaking in the stories that had just been told. It was all so fascinating, she couldn’t help but feel astonished. She had, of course, already known that Carlisle was an astonishing person, but now everything had been upped by ten. He had selflessly given so many people a new life. Given them a second chance. It all made sense. That’s why she had been given the option. Unlike his family, she had been given the time to make the choice for herself. Given the opportunity at that second chance. One that she definitely wouldn’t be taking for granted. 

“What about Rosalie?” She asked, suddenly realizing that he had left her story out.

He stayed silent for a moment, contemplating what he should tell her. It felt wrong, telling her story, with how intimate and private it had always seemed. With how hard Rosalie had taken the change compared to everyone else. “She was changed in 1933. Carlisle had found her bleeding out in the street… It’s really not my story to tell. Her ending was particularly brutal.” He said, trailing off as he remembered her pain as she had told him the story. “I’m sure she’ll tell you one day.” He assured her. 

She nodded understandingly. “If I do make the decision to change, then I would be a part of your family too?” She asked, somewhat timid of the topic. It scared her in all honesty. What if they ended up hating her? She didn’t want them to end up resenting her for her choice. She didn’t want to feel like a burden on them. To feel like she was an outsider. Like she didn’t belong.

Jasper stayed silent for a moment before he answered, feeling her worry and fear, wanting to make sure he used the correct words. “Yes, you would, but we would understand if you wanted to leave. We wouldn’t want you to feel trapped.” He explained, voice soft.

Camila shook her head at his words, brows creasing as she looked deep into his eyes. “It’s not that.” She assured him. “I mean, they barely know me…” She hesitated. “What if they don’t like me? You all have been a family for so long, I don’t want to get in the middle of that.” She said, the corners of her mouth turning downward as she admitted her fears.

“Camila.” He said softly, cupping his hand gently on the back of her neck, letting his thumb brush her cheek lightly. “They’re all going to love you.” He whispered. It pained him to hear her so unsure of herself. He may have been biased, but he couldn’t imagine a person hating her for the life of him.

“How do you know that though?” She asked, resisting the urge to lean into his touch for comfort as her heart hammered in her chest. 

“Well, two things.” He started, beginning to get lost in the emeralds of her eyes. Feeling as if they had been pulling him in, refusing to let him go. “Alice has seen it, and I’m fairly certain that it would be impossible to not love you.” He said, voice barely audible as he finished. For a moment he wasn’t sure if she had heard him, and if he was honest, he wasn’t completely sure if he wanted her too.

Although it wasn’t exactly an admission, it felt like the biggest one of them all. The implication that he was falling for her. Because that’s what it was, love, he knew it. Sure, it felt ridiculous, only having known her for such little time, but didn’t stop his cold un-beating heart from feeling that way for her. There was no logic, no understanding. It just was, and if it wasn’t love yet, he knew that it would develop into love. There was no doubt in his mind. 

Thoughts swirled in her head as she processed his words. He hadn’t exactly admitted anything to her, but that didn’t stop her heart from reacting like he had. She stared into his eyes for a moment more, before, without even realizing it, she began to lean into his touch, their faces inching closer and closer by the second. He was leaning in as well, she realized, drawn in towards each other like magnets.

He watched as her eyes fluttered closed, forcing himself to freeze as their noses brushed, his eyes clenching shut with the effort to restrain himself. “Jasper.” She whispered, warm breath fanning his lips as she tried to regulate her breathing. 

His eyes remained closed as he rested his forehead to hers, feeling the warmth in her touch. Trying to find the strength to pull away. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He whispered.

“Please don’t make me beg.” She answered, voice soft and thick with emotion.

And that was it. He knew he wouldn’t have it in himself to say no, and as the words left her lips, he gave in. Gave in to the temptation and closed the gap between them as he crashed his lips to hers, trying with every ounce of his body to be gentle as he sunk into her. Her lips burned into his, feeling as if they would leave a mark that would never heal over.

The feeling was like nothing she had ever felt before. Sure she had kissed before, she had even had sex before. But this, kissing Jasper, felt like the most intimate thing she had ever been a part of. Their lips moving softly together, in sync like they had been made for each other. And maybe they had, because it sure as hell felt like that.

Next Chapter

Tag List:

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[silvervioletvalentine]

🐍Always rooting for the antihero🐍

Pairing : Fernando Alonso x Cherrie

Word count: 7k

Summary: in which he’s still the bad guy and poor Lance has no clue that his girlfriend is Alonso’s ultimate prize.

Warnings: smut. Angst. Sorry to the Lance lovers but his hearts getting wrecked. My bad. Alonso Is a cunt and so is Cherrie. Also my bad. Enjoy xoxo

When Fernando walked into the meeting room, the first person he saw , already sat at the end of the ridiculously large table, was his new teammate , the only one to arrive early first. Fiddling on his phone quietly as he sipped on a cup of coffee , only looking up from his screen when he heard the sound of the door opening, greeting him with a polite smile and a little wave, happy to see his teammate who he was quickly growing fond of.

"You're here early." Alonso commented with a raise of his brow, a small smirk already tugging at his lips as he slowly walked around the table to sit at the opposite end of Lance.

"If I had a woman like yours waiting for me back home ...I don't think I would ever arrive early to anything." He slyly remarked , keeping his tone joking. Despite the pinch in his stomach he felt, a certain smugness and cruel humour that could only come along with despicable actions.

One that absolutely no one could know about, certainly not his new, innocent and oh so naive teammate who had no idea what he was truly dealing with.

Everybody around them, including the fans and their team, were so surprised and delightfully welcomed the sudden , and unusual kindness that Alonso was giving to his new teammate . Always smiling, always friendly and so willing to help poor Lance out. Always clapping him on the back and ready to give him advice . Looking out for him on the track and off it too.

You could say that the two teammates had formed quite a close friendship between them, one built on respect and kindness. A certain understanding between them to have each other's backs.

Fernando was finally the good guy. And he was loving it. He embraced the wave of love and proud pats to his back. The smiles that their team gave them after each time he bigged his new teammate up to the press. He was eating it all up, the humourful grin never leaving his face, a certain twinkle in his eye that nobody could truly read. Everybody putting down his smugness and his overconfidence to winning, to finally being happy with his car and teammate. Believing that he had finally grown up and put all of his mischievous and revengeful ways behind him.

Because he was a good guy now. A good teammate.

He could only smirk to himself , barely hiding his shit eating grin behind his hand as he sat down in his seat. Looking across the table to see Lance smiling a little shyly, completely oblivious to the subtle hints that Fernando had been giving him all along.

With all of his sly remarks and lighthearted jokes.. the truth lied right there. For him to see.

But poor Lance was so oblivious and Alonso could only laugh.

"She's still your girlfriend right? You haven't lost her yet?" He joked yet again to him, still smiling as he pulled out his own phone. Just the two of them in the empty meeting room, knowing fully well that others wouldn't start arriving yet.

But Fernando knew that Lance would be Early. He was a good guy like that. Always stuck to the rules, always wanted people to see the best in him. Wanted to prove his worth and his loyalty to those around him. He knew that.

And well, he couldn't help but want to mess with him a little. Even if he didn't know it yet.

Because Fernando was not a good guy. Never had been , and had never claimed to be. And if everybody else wanted to see him in a new light, wanted to call him so many good things and praise him for being such a good teammate and friend to Lance.. well, who was he to stop them?

They didn't have a clue. and neither did poor, innocent Lance either .

He almost felt sorry for him. Pitied him a little really because he didn't stand a chance. Not against him, he wouldn't allow him to. That just wasn't how he lived his life.

He was never second best to anybody, he was the man. The main character and he planned to stay that way for a very long time, no matter who he had to crush to get his own way.

He was the antihero after all.

He smirked to himself as he looked down at the new text on his phone, biting down on his lip as he read her reply . A late one.  But hey, she still replied. He knew she would. She just couldn't resist him after all, and the feeling was absolutely mutual.

I missed you in my bed last night. Your hand is softer that mine. He had text her early this morning, as soon as he had woken up. Wishing she was there with him, despite knowing where she was and who she was currently with.

It didn't stop him. When had it ever? When he wanted something, he got it. End of.

You can't tell me things like that. Stop it. She finally texted him back. I told you it's over.

He let out a soft laugh as he quickly replied , it's never over with us though , is it? Before putting down his phone again and focusing his attention on his teammate opposite him.

Lance was looking at him with a confused smile on his face, laughing at little "yes. I'm still with her. Why wouldn't I be?" He answered his remark lightheartedly. So unaware of the game that he was playing.

"Do you know something that I don't?" He joked obliviously.

Alonso laughed. Loudly. He had to. Because the poor kid had absolutely no idea. It was pathetic really.

How could he be so oblivious? Was he really that dense? Or did the love just make him blind to what was truly going on right in front of him?

He smirked at him subtly , shaking his head almost fondly. "I know everything that you don't." He told him, that wasn't a lie.

He rose a brow at Lance slyly, keeping his tone light and joking as usual as he added "I was just wondering. Cherrie seems like the type of woman that's hard to keep."

Was he evil? He felt evil. He laughed again, taking a sip from the to go cup of coffee he had brought himself . Wondering what she was doing right now.

He knew how much she hated coffee. She always complained when he kissed her in the mornings, threatened him that she wouldn't let him anywhere near her mouth again until he brushed his teeth from the horrendous taste. He looked over at his teammate and saw Lance also sipping on his coffee, he wondered if she refused to kiss him after he drank coffee too.

He hid his smirk behind his cup, swiping his tongue across his teeth to stop himself from scoffing when he saw Lance shyly smile to himself, his cheeks going pink as he squirmed in his seat. Nervous underneath his stare.

"We're good, yeah." Lance nodded happily "she's coming to the race today actually. You'll probably  see her around." He told him.

Alonso smiled, pleased. "Will I? How nice. I've missed seeing her pretty face around here." He said lightly , picking up his phone again to pull up their text thread quickly. His heart beating excitedly in his chest, knowing just what would happen next.

See you soon? He sent to her smugly already knowing the answer.

Fuck you. She sent back immediately .

He grinned to himself happily. Fuck him she would.

-

Not even a few hours later and Fernando  let out a low groan as he pushed her heaving body against his drives room door, hiking up her hips around his waist as he held her up easily.

His lips attacking hers passionately as she moaned into his mouth, sucking on his tongue as she buried her finger into his hair, tugging at the soft strands until he was bucking his hips up against her own , finger digging into her thighs tight enough to leave bruises.

"It's over huh?" He breathed out breathlessly against her jaw as he pulled away from her lips to kiss down her neck , his tongue running over her delicate skin as he pressed her harder against the door, feeling her whole body shudder against him.

Cherrie just moaned in frustration when he put her back down on the ground, wasting no time in pushing his already loosely tied racing suit from his hips, down to the floor instead. Feeling his hands slide up her thighs and hiking her already small dress further up her hips, his eyebrow raising smugly when he felt no lace in his way.

"No panties?" He muttered, inhaling sharply as his eyes flutter in bliss, feeling her warm hand wrap around him, guiding him to where she needed him the moment .

Alonso leaning her back against the back of the couch as she jumped up ontop of it, wrapping her legs around his hips to pull him between her thighs , his face burying into her chest as he pushed into her with a low moan escaping his mouth, breathless as she clutched onto him with a pleasuree cry.

"So naughty. All for me?" He teased her as he pulled her head back by fisting her hair in his hand, his dark eyes hooded as he looked into her glaring eyes , pounding into her , hard.

Her body jostling against the couch as she panted, barely able to catch her breath enough to breath out a shaky "fuck you!" Not wanting to admit that everything she did lately , had been for him.

And not for her sweet, loving boyfriend who had absolutely no clue that his girlfriend was fucking his new teammate behind his back like this.

She was a cunt and she knew it. And she loved Lance, she did but Fernando... she inhaled sharply as she felt his hand slide around her neck to clutch at her throat , squeezing and applying enough pressure to have her seeing stars as she cried out in pleasure, feeling him in her stomach from how deep he was fucking her.

He was something else entirely.

"You are." He smugly muttered, looking down at her with a smirk as he thrust into her tight cunt, his breath hitching as he felt her squeeze around him, sucking him all the way in, so wet and warm for him.

Not Lance. Him.

"Does he fuck you like this? Can he make you feel this good?" He taunted her as he quickened his pace, hand still around her throat as he fucked her like a whore.

Her shrill moans and breathless cries filling the room, the thrill of knowing that her boyfriend could walk in anytime, only spurring him further , the pit in his stomach growing with lust and passion for the woman clutching at his shoulders, scratching up his back with her sharp nails .

His teammate was still around somewhere, speaking with their team about his strategy for the race. Blissfully unaware that his amazing teammate was fucking his girlfriend in his drivers room , just like he always did.

"Tell me!" He gritted out, still jealous despite the fact that he was the one with his cock in her tight cunt right then. Knowing that despite this, Lance was still the one who got to go home with her at the end of the night .

Alonso only ever got to have her in secret. It infuriated  him.

The anger only making him fuck her harder as she gasped and whined, their eyes meeting as she panted , barely able to keep her eyes open at all.

"No! He doesn't! He doesn't!" She almost shouted through a high pitched moan , clutching at the back of his neck as he kissed her desperately , their teeth clashing from the force of his kiss. "I want you...fuck!"

"That's it. Come on baby!" He gritted out As he pulled her flush against him, both of them reaching their peek "give it to me!" He groaned out lowly as they came .

His lips still pressed to the side of her mouth as he panted against her lips, his eyes fluttering closed as he held onto her tightly .

Feeling her inhale deeply as she tried to catch her breath back, body trembling as he slowly slid out of her, reaching for a tissue from the side table to clean her up. Keeping her close to the whole time as she slowly came back down to Earth.

He pulled his racing suit back over his hips as she pulled her dress back down her thighs, cheeks flushed and hair askew , barely able to meet his smug gaze as she pushed him away, sliding down from the back of the couch.

Clearing  her throat as she felt a different type of tension fill the room. Fernando simply staring her down without any shame , tiling his head at her.

"Come home with me tonight?" He knew what she was going to say, but he still asked her.

He always did.

She scowled at him, scoffing as she patted down her hair with shaky hands. Swallowing thickly as she made her way back to the door on trembling legs , the familiar slam of guilt hitting her as she avoided looking at him, heart pinching in her chest.

She had done it. Again.

She thought of her poor boyfriend and winced, feeling a little sick. Like she always did each time she did this to him.

Yet she never stopped. Alonso was right after all.

It was never truly over between them.

"You know I can't." She muttered to him, shaking her head scornfully . Wishing he would just stop giving himself hope all the time that she would chose him beyond sex.

Fernando just rose a brow at her, scoffing. "You can but you're too scared of what people will think huh?" He knew her all too well.

Smirking at her a little , laughing when she refused to answer him .

"When people find out that you're fucking your boyfriends new teammate . One Old enough to be your daddy.." he teased her lowly as he slowly walked over to her, gently sliding her hair over her shoulder as he leaned down to gently kiss the back of her neck. Breathing her in before she left him again.

She gritted her teeth guiltily , angry with him for making her feel this way. For making her Feel this good.

"No one is going to find out." It came out as a threat as she shrugged him off her. Glaring at him "this isn't happening again." She lied as she pulled open the door quickly before she could fall into his arms again.

It would be too easy.

Fernando just smiled at her, even passing her the leather bag she brought with her sweetly . Kissing her cheek goodbye.

"Sure. I'll see you tomorrow then? Same time? Same place?"

All he got was a middle finger and the slamming of the door in his face before he burst into laughter , shaking his head to himself smugly as he threw himself down onto the couch he had just been fucking her up against.

Poor Lance. He thought to himself with smirk. He'd find out eventually.

He always won in the end.

Cherrie had thought that they were doing a good job of keeping their affair hidden from those around them.

She always made sure that he left no marks , always escaped straight after the deed was done. She had made sure for so long that there was no evidence and no trails to what they were doing, it had been their little secret.

And maybe the dirty secret between them could have been kept forever if Alonso hadn't suddenly decided that no longer did he care to be discreet , and no longer did he want to share her with her oblivious boyfriend , who was none the wiser to what they were up to when his back was turned.

Because no longer did he act like it was a secret. No longer did he double check that the doors were locked behind them. No longer did he look around to make sure that nobody could see them when he kissed her in a darkened hallway.

He didn't care about anybody finding out anymore, why would he? He wanted people to know. Wanted Lance to find out the truth so that he wouldn't have to hide his affections and his love for Cherrie in public anymore.

So despite her warning snarls and gritted teeth, mutttered threats for him to behave tonight , he ignored it all.

Because honestly , he didn't give a single fuck about anybody else. All he wanted was to have her for himself. He didn't care who knew .

So that night when a few of the drivers were having lunch together at a fancy restaurant, he smoothly slid into the seat beside Cherrie at The table before her boyfriend could slide in next to her.

Simply grinning up at his startled teammate who had been about to sit down beside her , Lance looking down at him in confusion , while Cherrie just glared at him silently , her heart rate increasing dramatically once she noticed the mischievous and uncaring look on Fernando's face.

"What?" He spoke up as innocently as possible , smirking to himself as he ignored the 'I will kill you if you do this to me tonight.' Look that he was getting from the woman beside him.

"You're always beside her. It's time that you let somebody else have a turn at entertaining her man." He kept his tone joking , despite meaning every word.

Lance , poor , oblivious lance, just shrugged with a easy going smile on his face . Taking the seat opposite them at the table instead , right beside mick.

"I hope you're ready to hear all the details from her shopping trip with the girls then. She hasn't shut up about it since she got home." Lance joked back, giving his girlfriend a smile , Cherrie only managing to give him a small one back. The guilt slowly eating her alive .

Fernando just hummed , turning his head to peer at her with a small smile on his face .

"Buy anything pretty for me?" He lowered his voice as he teased her, so only she could hear him as the conversations picked up around the table. Leaving him to his mischief.

Cherrie inhaled Sharply as she felt his warm hand land on her bare thigh underneath the table , narrowing her eyes at him warningly .

Eyes quickly glittering around the table to make sure that nobody was paying attention to them. Mick, Pierre and Lance already chatting about the last race while Lando and Charles, who was seated on the other side of her, talked about gaming together sometime again.

"Well, depends. I don't think you have the legs for a Chanel mini dress." She hissed at him underneath her breath , face slowly colouring as she tensed up in her seat, feeling his hand slowly crawl higher and higher up her thigh. Squeezing her leg gently as goosebumps littered her skin.

Fernando just grinned at her smugly "I look good in anything." He remarked arrogantly before muttering "how did you like the lace set I bought you? I had it sent to your room last night." His mind already running wild with imagining her beautiful body in the lace lingerie .

She just looked at him for a moment , chewing on the inside of her cheek as she tried not to inhale the warm scent of his cologne, eyes lingering on his cheeky smile and crinkled eyes. Heart beating like a drum in her chest.

Why did he have to be so handsome? She thought to herself in misery. Why did he have to have such a boyish twinkle in his eyes? He was just her type and he knew it.

He was going to kill her at this rate. Squirming a little in her seat as she felt her stomach tingle as his fingers rubbed soft circles onto the inside of her thigh.

Spelling out his name on her skin with his fingertips.

"You shouldn't have. What if Lance had opened it and seen the little note you left with it? It's like you want him to find out." She muttered at him, on edge and guiltily lustful as she tried not to linger on how good he looked in his unbuttoned white dress shirt and dark blue jeans.

Alonso just chuckled , not replying for a moment as their food was served. Seeing the red wine in her glass and the champagne in his own, he swapped the glasses and gave her his own. Knowing that she didn't like red wine at all.

He glanced momentarily over at Lance, silently shaking his head at how her boyfriend didn't seem to know her that well at all. Why had he ordered her red wine when she hated it?

Then he glanced at her pasta salad and rolled his eyes as well , swapping his plate of steak and rice to her without a single word being spoken .

"I don't give a shit." He simply mumbled as he took a sip of the red wine, nodding at a speechless Cherrie, who was smiling to herself at the way he had silently swapped their foods and drinks without even saying a thing.

"You look very fuckable tonight." He whispered to her slyly after taking a bite of the pasta salad, scrunching his nose up a little at the bland taste.

Cherrie flushed, shaking her head at him scornfully. "Very romantic. You really have a way with words." She muttered , unimpressed. Taking a large swig off the champagne . Having a feeling she was going to need more than one glass.

Fernando smiled at her genuinely , nudging her shoulder with his. Unable to take his eyes off her "you look beautiful my love."

She smiled.

Neither of them noticing the way Charles was looking at them from where he was set beside her, his eyes widening as he leaned back in his seat and caught sight of fernandos hand on her thigh.

Closely Watching the way the older man was whispering to cherrie, who was giggling quietly at whatever he was telling her. Both of them looking like they were in their own loved up bubble.

He couldn't believe it .

He looked across the table at Lance, amazed at the sight of the driver laughing loudly at something Pierre had said. Oblivious to what was going on right in front of him.

But Charles wasn't . And he could only feel his pity and anger grow as he watched them beside him , flirting and exchanging familiar touches all throughout the night.

Blinking in disbelief when he watched Fernando lean his head down halfway through dinner to kiss cherries bare shoulder gently , Cherrie just smiling at him with stars In her eyes.

After so much booze , he couldn't hold it in any longer. Once he noticed Fernando being distracted by Pierre asking him a question about racing, he leaned in closer to Cherrie with a deep frown on his face.

"What the hell are you doing?" He snapped at her quietly in disgust . Eyes glaring into her own .

Startled, she swallowed nervously and looked back at him with wide eyes. "Eating?" She answered the obvious .

Heart pounding nervously in her chest once she noticed the way Charles kept looking between her and Fernando , who still hadn't taken his hand off her thigh the entire dinner.

Charles scoffed lowly at her, shaking his head scornfully . "Your boyfriend might be oblivious but I'm not." He let her know angrily "how could you do this to Lance? I can't Believe you..!"

Cherrie was quick to hush him, shooting him a glare that had him leaning back in his seat quickly . She had always been a very intimidating woman when she wanted to be.

"Shut up. You don't know what you're talking about." She spat back at him underneath her breath .

Charles scoffed even louder than he meant to, making the drivers around them look over at them curiously.

Fernando tilting his head curiously once he noticed the glare that he was receiving from the Ferrari driver, he simply smirked back at him. Amused at his attempt at intimidation.

It wasn't going to effect him because he simply didn't give a shit about what he thought.

The only person he cared about was himself and Cherrie. Nobody else mattered to him. End of.

"I'm going to the bathroom. Excuse me." She quickly made her excuses to the table, hurriedly getting up and stomping off to the toilets , panic and frustration filling her veins.

Just wishing that Alonso could have kept his hands to himself and stopped himself from flirting with her every five seconds at the table. Maybe then Charles wouldn't have been any wiser.

She wondered what it said about her relationship that Charles had noticed their closeness all night but  her own boyfriend hadn't. Who only looked startled at the sight of her rushing off to the bathroom all of a sudden.

"Excuse me." Charles also muttered, sending them all a tense smile . "Need a piss." He blurted out ungracefully before hurrying down the hallway after her.

Wanting to find out what the hell she thought she was doing, wondering how everyone else could have been so oblivious to what had been going on right beneath their noses the entire time.

He caught her arm in his grip before she could disappear into the woman's bathroom , Cherrie slapping his hand away from her arm with a aggravated huff.

"What?!" She snapped at him uncomfortably , shifting on her feet when she saw the glare he was aiming at her.

Charles pursed his lips and shook his head at her in disgust . "Fernando? You're messing around with your boyfriends teammate now? What the hell is wrong with you?!" He almost shouted at her in disbelief .

Having always thought of her as a sweet, innocent woman who would never do such a thing.

How wrong he was. And how wrong they were about Alonso’s new , nice guy act too.

"You don't know what you're talking about." She repeated to him. Unable to look him in the eyes, instead she looked down the hall to where the exit doors were. Wondering if she could make a break for it.

Charles looked at her in astonishment "you're kidding me! He had his hand between your thighs the entire night! Flirting with you and - I heard him say he bought you lingerie? Do you think I'm stupid?!" He snapped at her, upset for Lance.

He was such a nice guy. He didn't deserve this.

Cherrie just shrugged her shoulders, getting pissed off at him for cornering her about something that wasn't any of his business in the first place.

"I think you're a lot of things Charles. But a snitch isn't one of them , right?" She levelled him with a threatening glare. Voice cold and cruel. Truly not giving a shit about what he thought anymore.

Charles was speechless . He could only look at the beautiful woman in front of him in stunned silence , unable to believe how she was behaving. This wasn't like her at all.

"You're a lot of things too but I didn't take you for a cheat Cherrie." He spat back at her , shaking his head "was it just with Fernando or another driver too? I see You clearly have a type!"

He was so lucky that she couldn't slap him without everybody questioning them.

So instead she settled on shoving past him with a snarl "fuck you Charles! Shut your mouth!" The warning was clear.

Charles let out a unamused laugh as he watched her walk away. "Oh fucking you is invitation only now? How lovely!"

She just stuck up her finger at him behind her back, not looking back as she stormed away angrily.

Fernando only looked up at her calmly when she stomped back to the table with a look of thunder on her face , announcing to them quickly that she was going back home.

Lance looked at his girlfriend in confusion , raising a brow at her in concern. "What's the matter? I'll come with you -" he made his way to get up.

Cherrie quickly waved him away, unable to look him in the eyes. Swallowing dryly as she met Fernando gaze, seeing him already quirking a eyebrow up af her, nodding subtly to the front doors of the restaurant.

You want to go? His look asked her.

She inhaled deeply and subtly nodded her head yes, before addressing her boyfriend again.

"No! No. You stay. I just have a headache and want to go to sleep." She laughed fakely as she pulled on her coat "all that champagne probably."

Lance was still frowning at her, despite sitting back down in his seat at her easy command .

"You sure? I don't want you to go alone-"

Fernando slowly stood up as well, smiling at his teammate . ""I'll take her home. Don't you worry about it Lance. Enjoy the rest of your night with the guys." He told him casually as he pushed his seat in, grabbing cherries clutch bag from the table too.

He even winked at her boyfriend too "have some more champagne eh? She's alright with me." He said to him as he gently placed his hand at the bottom of her back, guiding them away from the table and to the front doors instead.

Just as Charles came back from the bathroom , his eyes widening even further as he watched Fernando smugly raise a brow at him, daring him to say something to him.

He stayed silent. Too shocked to speak. Unable to believe how oblivious they had all been.

"Oh okay." Lance agreed easily. Smiling at them both brightly . "I'll see you later then babe." He directed towards his silent girlfriend leaning against Fernando side, yawning to herself as she glanced impatiently at the doors.

She just hummed . Not giving a scowling Charles another glance before Fernando guided them both away. Leaving just as quick as they arrived.

Charles inhaled deeply as he watched them step out onto the street. Watching closely as Alonso stroked the back of her head tenderly , giving her a soft smile and kiss to the side of her head, Cherrie beaming up at him as he led them away to his car before speeding off without any hesitation .

Alonso took a left turn at the end of the road.

To get to Lance's and Cherries apartment you had to turn right , not left . Charles could only swallow uneasily.

His silence only lasted another hour before he finally broke it after another bottle of champagne reached his system .

After Hearing Lance questioning whether he should call his girlfriend or not to see if she was doing okay.

He couldn't hold back his scoff. Lance, Pierre , Lando and mick looking over at him in surprise , shocked to see the look on his face.

"Why bother calling her? You might as well call Alonso seeing as he's with her." He said to him bluntly . Still reeling from what he had seen.

Lance frowned at him, confused. "He'll have dropped her off by now. Probably in bed at his own home." He said naively .

Pierre looked at his best friend warily when he let out a loud laugh , grinning in disbelief at the Canadian driver.

"You really believe that mate?" He slurred out incredulously.

"Yes?" Lance looked at him with a frown. Not understanding what he was going on about.

"Charles.." Pierre warned him, already having a feeling that what he knew wasn't going to be good for Lance to hear.

Lando and mick just looked between them in confusion , silently watching as Charles laughed and laughed and laughed. Even though nothing was funny at all.

"Mate.. Alonso has had his hands on your girlfriend all night. Kissing her shoulder and jaw.. and you're telling me that you have no clue to what's going on?!" He exclaimed in disbelief. Looking at him like he was stupid.

And maybe he was. Lance swallowed , heart dropping down to his stomach as he looked at the ferrari driver silently . Thinking back over the night. Having seen the two of them close but...

"He's just a friendly guy Charles." He weakly excused as his world came crashing down against him.

Lando looked at them in shock, finally catching on to what Charles was insinuating.

"Nando is fucking Cherrie?!" He gasped. Mouth wide open.

Poor mick was gaping at them too while Pierre already had his head in his hands, wondering why his friend couldn't stay out of other peoples business for a change.

Poor Lance. They all thought with a pitiful wince. Said driver paling horribly as the ugly realisation of truth finally set in.

"They wouldn't - I mean- he's older than her-" he stammered out in denial.

Pierre had to wince at that "I mean..she did date that forty year old football player before she dated you. So I don't think age is the problem .."

Lance glared at him angrily "no. It's the fact that my girlfriend is apparently fucking my teammate, that's the problem!" He snapped furiously . Heart breaking in his chest. Having trusted the both of them dearly.

"Maybe she isn't.." mick weakly tried to offer, wincing when Lance let out a mixture between a laugh and a cry. Burying his face into his hands as

the pieces all fell into each horrible place for him.

"She travelled to Spain for a whole month over our break. Told me it was for a girls holiday." He muttered. Feeling sick now as it all added up.

Lando grimaced , sharing a look with the others, no one knowing what to do or say at all.

"Mate...Alonso lives there. How did you not realise this sooner?" He muttered in shock. They all were.

Lance sniffled , Downing his glass of wine in one go. "Because he was so nice. But apparently he's just been pretending to be so that I wouldn't find out that he's been screwing my girlfriend the whole time." He groaned in misery "oh god. How long do you think this has been going on?" He dared to ask.

Charles just scoffed "ask the fucker. He's smug enough that he'd tell you. He's not feeling guilty at all. He's just left with your girlfriend man.. and you let him!"

Lance cried "well - how was I supposed to know that they'd been having some fucking affair the whole time?!" He exclaimed through his tears as he brought out his phone. Quickly bringing up his text thread with his teammate. His eyes blurry with tears as he typed out

How long have you been fucking my girlfriend Fernando?

Not even five minutes passed before his phone buzzed on the table in front of him. All of the drivers leaning in to see what he had wrote back to him.

"Oh fuck man.." Pierre grimaced to himself in disbelief , sharing a shocked look with Lando and mick who were gaping at his phone , stunned .

Nearly a year now. Our anniversary is next week. The thing is Lance , is that when you have a woman like Cherrie .. you have to hold onto her tightly otherwise somebody else will steal her away from you.

And maybe you should have tried remembering how much she hates red wine and salad. Maybe you should have took more care to ask where she was and who she was with.

You didn't even buy her flowers for her birthday. I took her home with me instead while you got drinks with the boys …

Now I'm going to buy her flowers for the rest of my life. Because I love her and she loves me.

I guess I'll See you in a few weeks teammate! adiós!

Then a picture was attached to the message, Lance in a state of shock as he looked at the picture that he had sent him showing them both cuddled up on a private plane .. an arrow drawn on the photo with the words 'going home.' Plastered on it.

He dropped his phone back to the table with a clatter, feeling Pierre and Lando pat his back in pity while mick just kept looking at Fernando's texts in disbelief .

"Guess he wasn't kidding about being the anti hero after all." He muttered to himself in shock.

By the time that they managed to drag a tearful Lance back home to a empty bedroom, her clothes all gone from her side of the wardrobe. They were already half way across the world, a smug Alonso holding a sleeping Cherrie to his chest as they traveled back to Spain again. To start brand new together. Just like he had planned.

Because he always got what he wanted in the end. No matter who's heart had to be broken in the process.

He won.

[ginnymoonbeam]

Be My Favorite is digging into concepts of masculinity to a degree I haven't seen in Thai BL before. Since episode 2 we've been seeing the contrast between the kind of man Kawi is and the kind he thinks he should be, and 3 and 4 have drawn a big highlighted circle around what, for simplicity, I'm going to call bro culture: the whole complex of male social behavior that includes competition, ritual humiliation, stark othering of women (both "chivalrous" and not), and a rugged, deflective response to pain.

I'm saying bro culture rather than toxic masculinity because only some elements of it are toxic, although they're so intermingled that it's hard to sift the toxic from the non. You have to work to create a bro culture without misogyny and homophobia - although a lot of BLs (Bad Buddy, for example) do exactly this. Be My Favorite isn't interested in doing that though: it is presenting bro culture unsanitized, and looking at how our two leads interact with it.

On the one hand we have Kawi, who has very clearly always failed to meet bro culture standards, and who still sees success in that sphere as something to aim for. And it's not that the bros reject him outright. Someone like Kawi is great to have around, because for everyone else it means never being at the bottom of the pack. It's not that Not and his group dislike Kawi or want to hurt him. If you asked them, they'd say in all sincerity that they're just trying to help him out. What they're actually doing is using him to affirm their own superior bro-ness: whether they're helping him or mocking him, he lets them feel that they're succeeding where he fails.

Pisaeng sees this much more clearly than Kawi does, hence his facepalm when Kawi tells the other guys he's a virgin. Pisaeng could succeed in bro culture: he could be top dog in that group if he wanted to. It's because he could succeed that he's able to see so clearly that he doesn't want to. When a prize looks hopelessly out of your reach, it's hard to see that it might be worthless.

Pisaeng is frustrated because he's seeing Kawi try so hard to achieve something Pisaeng has already rejected. Kawi is confused because he sees how easily Pisaeng succeeds by bro standards, and yet he's still lonely and discontent. He's always been attracted to Pisaeng (just look at how Pisaeng's introduction, in Kawi's pov, is framed) but he has chosen to interpret that through the bro lens of admiration and envy.

I think we're going to have to see Kawi make a conscious rejection of bro culture. Whether that comes about through his deepening friendships with Max and Pear, or through realizing his feelings for Pisaeng, at some point he's going to have to decide that that prize is not worth winning. I hope we see this, because it's rare for BLs to deal so directly with conflicting views of masculinity, and what being gay or bi means for a young man's sense of self.

[kisakis-boyfriend]

hi, im hoping your requests are still open😖🤞 i was wondering if you do more fluff mikey headcanons with a GN! Reader.

They are, don't worry! I'd be happy to write more of these~

More fluff with Mikey!

Let's talk about dates and what kind of dates he would enjoy!

I definitely see Mikey as the type to like thrilling dates to like, a fair, carnival, or an amusement park

You take turns winning each other prizes or a bunch of tickets to get the biggest prize. Winning him a soft plushie that reminds you of him and from that day on the stuffed toy lives on his bed. He cuddles it close to his chest whenever he misses you 🥺

Mikey loves carnival food too. Especially the sweet foods like cotton candy, funnel cakes, candy apples, etc

I can also see him enjoying beach or pool dates. He will splash you though...and then you'll splash him back until you're having an all out water war

Mikey also refuses to wear sunscreen and he gets burnt pretty quickly. The day after you get back from the beach/pool dates he's whining about how his nose and shoulders hurt, the areas of skin red and hot to the touch. You end up applying aloe gel on his skin several times throughout the day 😓

He reeeeaalllyy enjoys cuddles, usually preferring to be the little spoon. You wrap your arms around him, squeezing him for a second and inhaling his comforting scent, and Mikey swears it's what heaven must feel like

Mikey really appreciates when you carry him out of restaurants when he falls asleep after a meal. If he's still asleep by the time you reach your home, you usually lay him down onto the couch and cover him with a light blanket, letting him get a little beauty sleep

There's a shelf in his house/your shared house lined with little trinkets and gifts that you've given him over the years. Some things on the shelf include: Tiny dried flowers, a ring, a friendship bracelet, the bottle caps from your first shared soda, a couple rocks and crystals you picked up that you thought he might like, and a stick figure doodle of him that you drew one day

If you celebrate Christmas, Mikey will want to spend the holiday with you. Probably asking you to go for a ride with him even if it's freezing outside

A couple of frozen hands and a frozen nose is worth it though. You know how depressing this time of the year can be for Mikey, so you try to be there for him as much as you can

If you celebrate Halloween, he will 100% want to wear matching costumes. He'll probably drag you to a Halloween party with his friends and show you off, especially if you're wearing something he finds sexy

He's not opposed to wearing a sexy costume himself either, but it would be for your eyes only 👀

Honestly Mikey would love it if you dressed him up in general. Whether you put him in some of your clothes or go out and buy him something cute, he just wants for you to doll him up

This includes pairing some accessories with his outfit and maybe even doing his nails for him, if you're willing? 👀

I mean...it does give him an excuse to hold your hands as you paint his nails soooo. You should totally do that

Reblogs are extremely appreciated <3

Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!

[starsfic]

Prompt: During the Journey, Wukong has a moment where he realizes that what he had with the Brotherhood wasn't as healthy, or even as happy, as he thought it was. Maybe he was telling the group a "funny story" only to have them react with concern. And that makes him think.

Especially about Azure.

Anon: dialogue time! "We could've been together Wukong! All of heaven and earth ours to command, yet you now chose to fight me?! Why? What could be worth fighting for?" The Azure Lion questioning Wukong's choice of fighting against him

"We could've been together Wukong! All of heaven and earth ours to command, yet you now chose to fight me?! Why? What could be worth fighting for?"

Lion Camel Ridge was silent, nothing more than ruins by now.

Azure Lion saw none of that, however. His focus was on his prize.

Sun Wukong stood before him, face blank. Behind him, the former celestial warriors stood protecting the monk. Peng was even in the fish's held, furiously trying to bite and snarl. Overhead, a dragon loomed. All waited for what the king, Azure's king, would say.

"...would we have, though?"

Azure blinked. "What?"

Wukong did not blink. His face was blank, but his eyes were full of grief. Not for the shattered friendship, however. "Would we have been together? Commanding Heaven and Earth?"

"Wha-" Azure stepped back. He did not expect this, for his loyalty for Sun Wukong to be questioned. "Yes! I promised you, hundreds of times, that I would have done anything to make you happy!" Anger overtook the surprise. "Are you questioning my honor. Do you think me a liar?!"

"I think you are a manipulator who is severely entitled." The accusation shot straight for the heart. Wukong's face had finally regained emotion, but it was the anger of narrowed eyes and bared teeth, no longer the smile Azure would lap up like wine. "I think you created an image of me, an image you believed you deserved to bend and twist until I fit the mold you created."

"I-"

Wukong stepped forward and the staff gleamed.

"Do you know how many stories I have told about you, Azure?" For a moment, the anger and confusion subsided, replaced by a brief moment of joy. But the anger in Wukong's face did not fade. "How many funny stories I have told about the brotherhood, only to see fear and pity, for me, on my brothers' faces."

Azure growled. "They are not your-"

"OH YES WE ARE!" The pig yelled.

"We're not beating you up because Wukong asked us for a moment to speak," the fish said, shaking Peng slightly. Their struggles stopped.

"They have been more truthful and loyal than you ever have." Wukong paused in his march forward. The anger faded and he sighed, shoulders drooping. "And...I'm done. Of being manipulated, of being a mask, of trying to satisfy you and your desire to get one up on Heaven." He turned. "Good bye Azure. May you never haunt my doorstep again."

...he was leaving.

...just like that?

No. No. No, no, no-

"WE ARE NOT FINISHED HERE-" Azure launched forward, pulling out his sword. He heard Yellowtusk yelp out a warning, Peng shout, and the monk cry out. He heard Wukong sigh.

He did not see the staff dig into his heart.

[its-your-mind]

FUCK ME but EXU: Calamity really DID run the gauntlet of Tragic Heroes.

The Senior Sightwarden for the Eyes of Avalir, the public defender who realizes too late that the work he has poured his life into was fundamentally flawed, and yet he still let it take priority over watching his children grow up. Before the world ends, solving one final mystery - taking the time to look at the life they’ve left behind, and discovering for the first time, how incredible they were.

The Keeper of Scrolls, the prolific academic, who has prized knowledge above all else - family, friendships, herself - her whole life, only discovering in the last moments before the apocalypse what could have been done to prevent it.

The Dragon, the greatest negotiator and businessman in the world, burned from within by molten gold coins because he was unable, in the moments before the end, to convince his closest friends to listen to him before they made a horrible decision.

The Voice of Avalir, the Changeling, who left the Fey Wild behind for this realm of magic and progress and imagination, the faerie who fell in love with a mortal, the trusted face and voice to an entire people, and the man who at the end, died alone, in silence, his own face hidden under the mask of the goddess of death.

The Architect Arcane, the woman who knew more about the theoretical possibilities of magic than anyone else alive, who gave up everything - her life, her love, her self - to relentlessly pursue progress, only to watch powerlessly as her closest companions fall to a power for which she has no basis for understanding.

And the Knight of Avalir. The Good Man, the Widower, the Protector, the one who believed in the good in all people, no matter who they were or what they had done. The one who sold his soul to the devil for the chance of a chance to save his son, the one whose goodness was not enough to stop the evil that sought to return to the world… But.

Zerxus’s final act before he was fully lost was enough to restore one man, one archmage, for just the few seconds he needed to buy a bit more time, to give this extraordinary group of people a few more hours, just a few, to mitigate the inevitable damage as much as was possible - and that small gift of time was what turned each tragic ending on its head, and gave these people the chance to come together one final time for the good of the world.

Laerryn, turning her life’s work into just the tool that was needed to prevent full-scale annihilation, who at the end when asked what she had done, was finally able to say that she had done her best.

Loquatius, who turns down the chance to return to his people, who rouses the public to have hope and unite as one to face this danger, and whose final words of magical power are not for the public, but for his beloved alone, as he softly begs her, “Do not leave me.” Who spends his true final moments in the place where he belongs - in the arms of the woman he loves.

Nydas, who rallies his pirates and businessmen to the ships to save as many as possible, commanding them to leave behind the goods and the gold, because the people of Avalir are the true treasure, and saving them is worth any price that can be paid.

Patia, who discards all notions of status and propriety as the world falls around her, who ensures that the students she brought into this city to study are safe, and who takes in her hands everything she has ever learned and sends it away - to a young girl, far away from the destruction, who has the best chance of anyone she knows to ensure that some of what was learned was not lost.

And Cerrit. The one and only surviving member of the Ring of Brass. Who takes the one chance he gets to flee his city as it collapses around him, flying as fast and as hard as he can, desperate to survive, to keep his promise to his children, to make it home and do his absolute best to protect and save his family.

They couldn’t have stopped The Calamity. That was always going to be beyond them. But in the end, they were the reason that there was something of the world left after the dust settled. Their story was always going to end in tragedy. But because of them, the rest of the world was able to move forward in hope.

[underprivilegedcactus]

It's totally fine if you don't think God!Gale and Ascended!Astarion endings are necessarily bad endings. I agree there's definitely some ambiguity when it comes to these outcomes, but there's something that people should consider: When writing a character, one of the things a writer can choose to focus on to build them out is to consider What They Want vs. What They Need.

Gale WANTS to become a god (eventually) to both show up Mystra and to help mortals the way he feels that gods should. What Gale NEEDS is to realise that he is enough as is, that he is more than just his power and any more strength he could aqcuire. Gale needs to have more confidence in his own self worth.

Astarion WANTS ultimate power so that no can ever hurt him or those he loves ever again. He wants to be so strong that no one would even try to harm him, and if they do he can effortlessly squash them. For him, it's only through power that he can ever be truly and forever free. What Astarion NEEDS is healing from centuries of cruelty through true friendship or even romantic love and to be seen as an equal, to take back control of his bodily autonomy and choices, and to become actually free from not only Cazador, but from becoming a slave to his darkest impulses that his rough life has exacerbated.

Sure, both Gale and Astarion are happy when they get what they want, but there's lots of hints that it's not what they really needed.

Gale becomes the god of ambition, which is never satisfied with its lot and will likely cause trouble for the pantheon down the line. It's also very clear that he lost a vital part of himself, and I don't think it's his connection with his mother or Tara, which are still important facets but are ultimately not the core of what he lost. It's the fact that he no longer cares about doing actual good for people, a key component of his former personality. One of the things I love about his character is that no matter how high he rose, mortal Gale still cared about helping people in positive ways. Ambition doesn't give a damn where its drive takes people, for better or for worse. Mortal Gale would be horrified if he knew that he influenced evil people to do worse things in the name of ambition. Mortal Gale would also be horrified that his god version openly admits to not offering ANYTHING to his followers, which is anathema to what Gale originally wanted godhood for. But hey, he got what he wants and he's happy, so that MUST be good, right?

Ascended Astarion has entirely lost any shred of his humanity, and is now a complete slave to his darkest desires. He no longer views his romantic partner as a person. They're just his most prized object, whether they want to be or not. He enslaves other people, inflicting on them the exact kind of bondage he had to deal with for two centuries, including the person he used to love. On top of all that, he loses his capacity to even recognize the wrongness of his actions. For all intents and purposes, Ascended Astarion becomes a megalomaniacal homicidal psychopath who's hunger knows no bounds. Worse, he has no way to ever recognise if this is a problem anymore or something he doesn't like. But again, he got what he wants and he's happy, so it MUST be a good thing, right?

There's nothing wrong if you still see these outcomes as good endings, or even just better endings than an outright "bad" ending. I see what you mean, and also, it's a video game and these are fictional characters, not people who can actually get hurt. Like so much media and art, it's really more of a thought experiment than any kind of moral indicator.

I do however implore you to consider why so many people, Larian included, don't see these outcomes as good, and in some ways perhaps even worse than other "bad" endings. A very common but very relevant trope in storytelling is "be careful what you wish for because you might just get it", and it's usually to remind us that getting what we want isn't always what's best for us in the long run.

[savvythepirate]

The girl of my dreams

Pairing: Jack Sparrow x reader

Warnings: None

Requested by: @ro-annah-blog

The Request:

Hi!! I was wondering if I could request something, where Jack proposes to reader (fem/GN) after they tease him for years about how he'd never do it, lol.

***

You trusted Jack Sparrow with your life, for as long you’ve known him, you had no reason not trust that he wouldn’t let anything happen, that my bring forth harm unto you.

Throughout the years of friendship, you had found had found yourself falling for him, and Jack Sparrow had fallen for you as well, but you didn’t know know or understand how someone like that man, or any man for that matter, would even be interested in you. The only siblings you grew up with were three sisters and the only thing you seem to have your doubts in finding Mr. right.

The doubt grew as you had to watch one by one of your three sisters getting sent off for marriage while you remained single. All of them getting married is what made it difficult to keep your hope alive that one day in fact, find the one you’re meant to be with. You just don’t know when, how long the wait, but you were doing your best to keep your belief alive that one day, it will happen while others were telling you otherwise, refusing to believe those who doubt you more than you doubt yourself. Brushing it off and moving ahead wasn’t easy, but than again, life was never meant to be easy, as much as you’d like. Once you started to spend any free time with Jack Sparrow, suspicious minds arose that there might be something there between you that’s much more than friendship.

Rumors spread around the Black Pearl, but you both avoided those rumors. The rumors started when Gibbs caught on sight of you and Jack Sparrow holding hands while walking up to the top deck as you wanted to watch the sun over the horizon of the ocean. The sight never failed to be truly breathtaking, truly a magnificent award as if you’ve won first place noble prize. Not only was the sunset breathtaking, but it was a magnificent view, meaning it’s now an image you will not be able to erase from your mind. While you sunk into the beautiful sight, you suddenly felt Jack inch closer to you before realizing he was slowly wrapping an arm around you carefully yet, gently and pulled you in closer to him. Jack does his best to make it impossible for you to even try to escape his hold, but who says you would?

The only escape route you could take now was is if he let go. In the meantime, you begin to realize that your fate rested with this man and you couldn’t think of anyone who’d you want to spend the rest of your life with.

Unbeknownst to you, Jack felt the same and when he would deny the thought, you started teasing him about never being man enough to propose marriage to the girl of his dreams. Yo were the girl of his dreams, and seemingly got a hold of an engagement ring while you were not around, he kept it very secretive and told no one, not even Gibbs. As difficult as it was for him to keep a secret about it, it was all worth it in the end when he actually did proper to you unexpectedly. It was just the two of you alone as he did this, and the both of you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way. A short while back, you were continuing to tease him about how he’d never be able to do it and this went on for a few years.

It wasn’t just the fact Jack Sparrow was in love with you as to why he proposed, it was the fact that he didn’t want to see you ending up with someone else when you should be with him instead. Jack had carried the ring in his coat pocket for about six weeks now, trying to muster up the courage to just do it. As he kept the ring hidden from view, Jack intended on keeping it a surprise just so the message could get through your head just of how serious he was about spending his lifetime with you. Jack decided that that the next time you go on to tease him about it again, he would pull the ring out and propose. When the day had come at last, your first reaction was hot tears rolling down your cheeks with your mouth open agape as you stared at the ring he was holding out for you.

After staring at it for longer then you meant to, Jack was beginning to feel rejected, that this was a rejection of his proposal. But that idea was immediately gone when you reached your hand out towards him, allowing him to slip the ring on your finger. Once that ring was on you, you both sealed it with a kiss, with just the two of you still alone. You don’t recall on feeling such joy in your life as the joy you were experiencing in this moment in time. All you could say to describe it, the moment as nothing but a magical moment. This moment was the moment you’ve been dreaming for your lifetime, since you were a small child and now it was finally coming true, finally happening.

Here you are, you now made a commitment to spend the rest of your life with the man you’ve grown to love and care for deeply. You were about to marry the man you love more than anyone else in the world.

You were now not only a married woman, you were now a wife.

The wife of Jack Sparrow.

***

@savvythepirate

Requests: OPEN

Tags: @princessofthornsandroses @justafairytailofinnocence @marsswann @friendlynova @always-on-hiatus @royisrandom @imalittleoutthere

Characters:

• Jack Sparrow

• Davy Jones

• Hector Barbossa

• Will Turner

NOTE: If you’d like to be part of my tags list, feel free to let me know and I’ll tag you! (:

[kiachiako]

l.mark recs

my library of favorites <3 all creds to authors

series

let’s break the ice pt.1 | @sehunniepotwrites 1.4k — in which you’re attending your college team’s hockey practice with your best friend and embarrassment ensues.

volleyball for dummies (in love edition) | @ddeonuism — Mark Lee has been called many things. Dedicated was one of them and that dedication lead him into joining NeoTech College's well coveted Women's Volleyball team, the NeoTech Tigers, as their manager in hopes of winning the infamous setter, Y/N's heart. But there was one problem, being academically inclined did not come with the extensive knowledge of anything related to the sport and to put it simply, Mark Lee doesn't know shit about Volleyball.

oneshots.

[m] surviving no nut november | @domjaehyun 28.8k — mark lee x fem!reader x lee haechan

[m] sweet cream, cold brew | @lucyandthepen 26.4k — something about mark lee keeps you up at night, and you’re pretty sure that it isn’t the lingering smell of espresso on his shirt.

[m] bed of spider webs | @neovisioned​ 26k — where you hate Mark Lee because he’s everyone’s favourite, to both students and teachers. if there’s a number one, there’s a number two, and that’s you. however, after a strange event in a lab, his grades crush down, leaving the number one spot vacant for your very eyes, but as everyone’s favourite looks more and more miserable, you can’t help but worry about him, not knowing that he became the famous friendly neighbourhood superhero that saved you that one night.

[m] pretty little weapon | @lisired 25.7k — A lifetime worth of adversity had brought you to Bloodlust. You joined them to escape your history, but with Mark Lee - an undercover narcotics agent with a secret to keep - comes the threat of being forced to confront your past. Old wounds are opened, but scars heal.

[m] follow through | @ncteez​ 23.5k — Mark managed to keep his best friend status with you even after you moved away. With a friendship strictly through imessage, facetime, and social media, it was surprisingly easy to keep him in your life. Even when things suddenly became sexual. By the time you move back home, you learn that the both of you talk big game through text, but nearly forgot how to communicate face to face.

[m] delphinium | pt.2 | @ncteez 23k — You should have known that when he said he loved you after such a small act of intimacy, he wasn’t thinking with his dick. Quite frankly, he didn’t know how to. You also should have known that by being his first, he probably wanted you to be his last.

where’s your good-natured gryffindor-slytherin rivalry? | @taelme 23k — friends-to-enemies-to-lovers, Hogwarts!au (fluff, mild angst, slow burn, mutual secret pining) 

chiaroscuro | @ncteez​ 20.3k — the romanticization of art school is typical and no one romanticizes it more than mark lee, the too-confident messy-haired guy who, accidentally, makes people uncomfortable. to you though? it’s kind of flattering to become his focus.

[m] my little doll | @haechansdoll 20k — Humans have hormones, you understand that much. But does that explain why you can't stop the filthy daydreams that fill your head whenever you see a specific redhead? Does it excuse you for getting turned on by him simply breathing in your direction? And to make matters worse, he is off-limits, if your father found out you were messing with his prized boxer? You would be chained to a tower and your red-haired crush would be used as mincemeat.

safety zone | @cherryeoniis 19.1k — Mark Lee. The most perfect roommate and best friend that you could have asked for - except for the fact that he constantly messes up your laundry and can’t cook eggs very well. Even then, that doesn’t quite stop you from falling for him in your final year.

[m] give me the green light | @fadedncity 19k — street racing au, childhood friends to lovers, non idol au, college au, lil angst, fluff

[m] a clouded fate | @byunbaekby​ 17.2k — badboy!mark lee x female reader 

would you be so kind? | @sehunniepotwrites 17k — It was ironic, really, how you had a love and hate relationship with flowers. Growing up as a florist’s daughter, your love and admiration for the language of flowers flourished at a young age. Your thoughts, however, changed when you were diagnosed with the sickness that killed with one of the things you loved the most. You weren’t sure what hurt more, though - the hammering agony your heart experienced every single time Mark looked at her so lovingly or the excruciating pain your lungs suffered through whenever you remembered your best friend loved her and not you.

[m] delphinium | pt 2 | @ncteez​ 16.2k —  It wasn’t intentional. You don’t even know why you cared that he didn’t believe in pre-marital sex, but it didn’t stop you from arguing with him about it. You didn’t intend to win the argument either. Then again, he kind of let you.

[m] watch me | @sluttyten 14.6k — you pick up the voyeuristic habit of watching your neighbor that never closes his curtains and whose face you never see. on an unrelated note, you start dating the cute barista from down the street that also happens to live in the building across from yours. what could happen?

mark lee’s gluttony | @misfitneo​ 13.5k — mark lee’s gluttony will be his downfall. with the heavy burden as one of NEO’s heirs, he’s lived his whole life aiming for power; and when things get out of hand, you’re the one to suffer the consequences.

[m] gorgeous | @lucyandthepen 12.4k — you don’t know what in the football uniform mark is wearing is so attractive. maybe it’s how broad is shoulders always look in that jersey. maybe it’s how nicely accentuated his ass is when he’s running. or, maybe, just maybe, it’s how painfully conspicuous the outline of his cock is through those pants.  or, you know. all of the above.  

where do broken hearts go? | @rrxnjun 12k — you know what they say about past lovers that can remain just as friends - either they're still in love with each other, or they never were in the first place.

a series of white lies | @tyonfs​ 10.5k — in which it takes you six years to accept that you’re in love with mark lee. (it takes him one.)

[m] the girl is mine | @luvrkives 10.5k — mark and hyuck can't stop fighting over you. who fucks you better, who makes you laugh more, who you like most, who fucks you better, yada yada yada. but honestly, why argue when you would happily take them both?

[m] meant to break | @tyonfs 10.0k — when the mafia’s members task you to distract a detective that’s hot on their trail, you have no choice to accept. there’s no place for love when you’re simply a trap for lee minhyung to walk into, but you still want to immerse yourself into everything he is.

baseball (& other disasters) | @tqmies 10k — Everyone admired Mark Lee, starting pitcher of your school’s baseball team and famed ladies man. You, on the other hand, only know him as the boy who broke your dorm lobbies microwave the first time you met.

[m] pretty boy | @ncteez​ 9.3k — Mark’s favorite thing to do is sit alone at the library and enjoy the knowledge that his university offers. In contrast, your favorite thing to do is go to parties and enjoy as much chaos as possible. However, upon realizing your grades have dropped drastically due to this lifestyle, you have no choice but to approach Mark for help. 

sticky situations | @mieohmy​ 9.2k — you never thought you’d be partners in crime with the red and blue spandex wearing hero who is not only your friend mark, but also the guy you secretly have a crush on. 

[m] roommates | @smileysuh 8.3k — as Jungwoo's best friend, you have your pick of fratboys to date, including Jeno, who has a huge crush on you. But you're only attracted to Lee's that come in pairs, and you can't get roommates Mark and Hyuck off your mind.

day dream | @cozyjae​ 8.2k — 90s!au, mark lee x reader, brothers best friend au

blind love | @neocityarchive 7.2k — in which mark lee is so much more than just your best friend but you were too blind to realize it.

[m] the best man | @mrkis 6.5k — meeting the one for you at your best friend's wedding wasn't exactly how you imagined this day turning out, neither was fucking him in the bathroom of the venue.

heartbreak girl | @cinnajun 5.5k — during your first couple years of high school, mark was your closest friend; then, during your junior year, you began to distance yourself from one another after you got a boyfriend. two years later, your friendship rekindles, and mark finds himself feeling the same way he felt for you before. but, when you plan to meet up during the summer after your first year of university, disaster strikes, and mark is forced to keep his love for you bottled up once more.

[m] closed doors | @starryhyuck 5k — when your brother asks if a friend can stay in your spare bedroom, you don’t expect mark lee to show up on your doorstep.

[m] may i be blunt? | @raibebe 3.9k — stoner Mark x female reader

[m] cherry flavored thoughts | @neochan​ 3.8k — you invite mark over to study with ulterior motives and he happily goes despite having the filthiest thoughts of you.

[m] drive | @lisired 3.5k — behold mark lee - your hot uber driver who you keep getting. very embarrassing. you also fuck him.

3, 2, 1 | @justalildumpling 2.3k — at this point of your pathetically unrequited crush on your popular friend, it didn’t faze you when you found out that he wasn’t going to be at the same NYE party as you. but when he suddenly turned up to come find you did you start wondering that maybe you weren’t the only one with harboured feelings.

[m] mixtape moans | @starryhyuck​ 2.1k — you’ve learned that your shy boyfriend has written a song about you, incorporating sounds that are not made for the public to hear.

sex by the 1975 | @hyuckmov 1.8k — ex!mark x reader, jaehyun x reader (feat. best friend yeji)

[queer-ragnelle]

tristan/isolde/palomides your MIND

LISTEN I have so many thoughts about them!! It’s an actual tragedy that they’ve never inhabited a movie together. I first noticed them in Le Morte d'Arthur, as I'm sure most people did, as it's more accessible than the Prose Tristan. But I didn't really appreciate them until after I read Between Knights: Triangular Desire and Sir Palomides by Oldga Burakov Mongan. In this essay, Mongan claims:

Very often the bond between the desiring subject [Palomides] and his beloved [Isolde] is peripheral, subordinate in its intensity, to the subject's relationship with his male 'mediator of desire' [Tristan].

This essay breaks down many of the encounters between these three in Le Morte and demonstrates how interconnected they truly are. Speaking for myself, I prefer La Tavola Ritonda instead. I'm not quite done scanning that, but it will be on my blog ASAP.

In the mean time, it has one of my favorite Palomides introductions ever.

There entered on the side of the King of Scozia a knight who bore all black insignia, and who was called Palamidesso the Pagan, a son of King Scalabrino. This Palamidesso carried two swords by his side as a signal that no knight had ever made him bend over the saddlebow.

Duel wielding? Bend over the saddlebow, you say? Interesting. Palomides goes on to win this tournament! After that he follows his lord to another castle where he first sees Isolde, falls in love with her, and begins a hateful staring contest with Tristan (literally). It's here that they battle for the first time...

As Tristano looked over the field, he saw that Sir Palamidesso was leaving, and called out to him, "Hallo, knight, guard yourself against me! I am the knight you met at King Languis' court, and it seems now that I am the worthier of the love of Isotta the Blonde!" Bold Palamidesso, hearing those words, turned his horse's head around and, drawing his sword, gave Tristano such blows on his helmet that he bent him over the saddlebow. But Tristano hit back, and hit Palamidesso so hard on his helmet that he made blood gush out of his mouth and nose, and knocked him off his horse so badly wounded that for a long time he was unconscious. Thus Palamidesso lost the prize, and lost also the right to wear two swords.

Compelling word choice throughout this. Anyway as per usual they continue to squabble until eventually settling their differences and becoming friends (in part thanks to Lancelot who apparently rents out his castle for polyamorous hookups).

"When I was jousting with Sir Lancilotto the other day, he said to me, 'Now, Palamidesso, Gioiosa Guardia is worth more than any other place in the world, for it holds a noble treasure.' Therefore I imagine that this treasure is Sir Tristan and the beautiful Isotta, because those two are the ones who excel all others in the world in beauty, prowess, and courtesy." When he heard these words, Tristano allowed Palamidesso to remount and then let his lance fall, since Palamidesso had broken his. Then he spoke in this way: "Palamidesso, Palamidesso, here is this Tristano you have been searching for. Come and fight me, if you want to. If not, I am willing to stop because of those words you spoke. I am your enemy, but I am ready to make peace with you. Still, if it would please you to fight, I am ready to do battle with you. You may choose whichever pleases and delights you most." Palamidesso replied, "Surely, Tristano, the man who could have you for a friend would be foolish to want you for an enemy, Therefore I ask that there be peace and good friendship between us."

Nobody tell Palomides that Lancelot was almost certainly referring to Guinevere and not Tristan or Isolde. But their truce culminates in everyone joining back up at Cuck Castle Joyous Guard.

The knights then rode in that direction, and when they arrived at the main palace they found the lady, Queen Isotta, all happy and joyous, attended by ladies and maidens. When Tristano told her how he and Palamidesso had made peace, she was very glad of it, and welcomed the knights with much honor. Then the tables were set out, and they all sat down to eat.

Much later, King Arthur hosts a joust in which all participants are to bring a lady. So, now that everyone are friends, Isolde is brought along with a retinue of knights, including Tristan and Palomides. They wear her colors and fight on "her" side against Arthur, Lancelot, and their kinsmen on Guinevere's "side." Polyamory enjoyers, this text is for us. Anyway the only portion of that I'll include is this sweet passage which really illustrates that the friendship in this little group is genuine. They're all affectionate after the truce and everyone is having a great time.

When Isotta had returned to the pavilion, the tables were set out and food was prepared, and when water had been brought out for their hands, they sat down to eat. As they ate, Gariette looked out and saw Palamidesso going by looking for them, and pointed him out to Sir Tristano. Tristano got up and went to meet him, taking him by the hand and leading him into the pavilion, where he disarmed and sat at the table. They all passed that night in great joy.

After this, they all live happily ever after, and nothing bad happens. :'^) I'll have La Tavola Ritonda done soon, and then you all can enjoy it too. I promise it's worth getting used to the Italian names, it's so fun! Thanks for the ask!