#this is all just basically shit i wish someone had told me when i was wee

[our-lady-of-mcr]

yet again wondering when ill realize that certain people do not change and are always going to try to fuck me up ):

[mrfoox]

Wtf is my fascination with this little freak.... Hes just a dude but I'm so intrigued, I'm tired

[thevoidstaredback]

Every man has his breaking point. Danny's is just a bit higher than everyone else's because he's a king and has a high tolerance for absolute bull shit. No matter how strong that bar is, though, one can only bend so far before snapping.

Unfortunately for everyone around him, Danny has reached his breaking point.

"I wish I could get drunk," he stared into his drink longingly, "Or high. But mostly drunk."

"Why do ya say that?" Billy asked, tilting his head curiously to the left.

Danny sighed, "It's a long story."

"I've got time." he shrugged.

"Are ya sure?" Danny raised an eyebrow. "You don't think any emergencies are gonna crop up? Nothing you'll need to go take care of?"

Billy backed off a little, folding into his seat. "What're you talking about? I'm just some kid on the street. I ain't going anywhere."

Danny rolled his head from side to side. "Mostly, I'm talking about the JL meeting the both of us are gonna skip out on tonight."

"What-?"

"C'mon, Captain, it won't do to talk here," he stood, picking up his coffee and waiting for Billy to do the same.

Billy's eyes narrowed as he looked Danny up and down. "I don't recognise you," he whispered, "Who are you."

Danny produced another calling card from his sleeve as he sipped his drink, holding it in front of himself but not handing it over. When Billy was looking at it, he flipped it over. The white background turned matte black, all the runes in the Ouroboros turning so white that they glowed. The DP in the very middle tinted blue, pulsing with toxic green energy, slightly cold to the touch. The edges started to frost over.

Quickly, Billy pulled the card Danny had given him before from the inner pocket of his jacket. It, too, had changed to match the one Danny held, though there was no longer a DP in the middle. Instead, it said 'Phantom' in fancy calligraphy.

"No way," the kid muttered, his expression awestruck, "Phantom? That's you? No shit?"

Danny chuckled, tucking the card away again, "No shit, kid. Don't tell anyone, though. You're the only one who knows."

"Really?" he squeaked.

"Really."

***

Having someone know his whole story was refreshing, just as he's sure Billy felt good to have someone know his, too. That didn't stop him from feeling bad about dumping it all on the poor kid.

"I still wish I could get drunk," Phantom lamented."

Constantine looked up from the book he was reading. "You can't get drunk?"

"Nope."

"How'd ya figure that one out, kid?"

"Please don't call me a kid."

That's not good. The blond marked the page before setting the book to the side. Phantom had never actually asked him to stop calling him a kid. "What's wrong?" He didn't normally do the whole 'feelings' things, but the was an exception.

Phantom sighed long and sad. He didn't look up from the carpet. "I told you they were going to ask invasive questions."

"Who was it?" It was more of a demand then a question.

"Red Robin,"

"Red- I thought you would've skipped town when we were done there? I sure as hell did."

"I know you did, but I decided to stick around for a bit. Wander, y'know? Red Robin caught up to me and would leave me alone."

Oh, oh no. Those were tears. Were they? Yeah, shit, they are! John is not equipped to handle this!

Phantom sniffled. "He asked me how I died."

Fuck.

John Constantine is not easy to anger. Sure, he gets tired, and irritated, and a whole slew of emotions, but he is very slow to anger.

Phantom, he knows, is not a child. The ghost can very much take care of himself in basically every way one could think of. He saved the world on his own, several times, when he was fourteen. He became a King and Protector when he was fourteen. He died when he was fourteen.

Right now, all he could see was the child who hadn't ever been properly laid to rest. It was hard not to call Phantom a child when he seemed so small, seeking comfort from anyone. Phantom was crying. He'd retreated to the House and locked himself in Constantine's room, only talking when he was ready to, but he'd waited to cry.

Phantom didn't like crying. Every person in the JLD knew this.

No. John Constantine is not quick to anger, but he is scary when he reaches that point. Batman might be the night and vengeance and all that shit, but John Constantine was wrathful.

He sat beside Phantom and let the ghost lean into him and cry. He didn't like dealing with feelings, but this was a child in need of comfort and he was the only one around to offer it. "Do you really want me to stop calling you 'kid'?"

A sniffle and a small head shake. "No."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"...sure."

"How old are you really? As a ghost, not as a human or a halfa. How old are you?"

"Fourteen." he mumbled, "I'll never be any older than fourteen, John," he was getting a bit hysterical now, "I'll never be any older than fourteen! I-I died and-and now I have to rule and-and people keep asking and no one believes me and-!" A sob cut him off, heavy with grief and wet with tears. He cried for hours, giving up on trying to form words. Constantine let him, ignoring the wet patches on his shirt. Eventually, Phantom's sobs died down into hiccups. "I didn't...I'm- I'm sorry."

"It's alright, mate," he meant it, really and truly.

Phantom rubbed his eyes, "I'm gonna go hide somewhere."

"Not gonna share where?"

"No, I want to be alone for a while." He paused at the door, "Whatever you're gonna do, will you leave Captain Marvel out of it?"

Odd request, but, "Alright," he nodded, "I'll talk to the others." And by 'talk', he means lecture. There are boundaries that one shouldn't cross, and not asking the dead how they died should've been obvious! With his League issued communicator, John called an emergency meeting in one hour, required attendance, barring Captain Marvel. First things first, though, he needed to talk to Deadman.

Part 7 Storyboard

Tag List:

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[alwaysshallow]

― blood on my shirt, rose in my hand

SUMMARY: Simon Riley knows you have bad experiences with dating, but he also knows you don't really need no one but him. He's gonna provide you anything. So you can imagine how he could change, when for the first time, you think you've found the one man who's right for you. To your surprise, weird events happen during the time you date Nick. Thankfully, Simon's there to help you. (11,4k)

READ ON AO3

A/N: this is SUCH a long piece, so some of it is here, but the full version is on AO3. i hope you're gonna forgive me for this one </3

"It's not like I'm ugly, right? I thought about it. If I'm ugly, so that's why it doesn't work out." you sip your favorite wine, looking right at your best friend, who has been listening for the past hour your ramblings about dating.

"You're fuckin' stupid, but not ugly, pet."

He's the best friend in the world – you can say this, meaning it with your whole heart. In fact, he's the best friend everyone probably wished to have, at least in your mind. Not only here for you, but loyal, you can tell him basically anything. He wouldn't say a thing, even if someone was nagging, and he was mostly a good adviser; all the qualities you looked for in a best friend, right?

And he was brutally honest, like right now, but you don't mind it. Simon Riley had this thing, and even if sometimes you were almost offended at his bluntness (like this one time, when he told you you're a crying mess and you act… worse than a toddler), you mostly appreciated it. Your other friends couldn't compare to his honesty, this man was not the one to lick your ass.

Or, so you thought.

"Excuse me?" you raise your eyebrow, laughing, while shaking your head. "You should, I don't know, tell me I'm amazing and they don't deserve me. Or so." you joke; it causes him to roll his eyes.

"That's what I told you. Different words, but the same thingy."

"Right."

It sometimes sucks for you that Simon isn't a girl. He has this unbelieveably annoying guy thing, where he just can't be delusional with you, and he can't just mourn over some hot guy. His way of thinking is… on the other level, he totally skips the mourn part, the part that is pathetic; he's just saying things like "move on" and "there's a lot of them anyway". Again, you love it, but you really wish you could cry about guy being so pretty that it hurts, without him rolling his eyes.

Yet, when you're more in mad mood than mourning one, his attiude is just perfect. He's the one to encourage you to scream, he even brought you a few times to rage room when you needed to smash a few things, not to mention the attiude he was setting you in. Powerful, not giving a shit about a "piece of a man that doesn't deserve you".

Simon sighs. "You're worryin' too much. Really that desperate?"

You huff, as you sink more into the plushy couch in your apartment. "I'm not desperate. It's just…" you take a few seconds to think "being love starved."

"Sex starved, you mean."

"Love starved." you send him a look.

"Mhm. You fancy plushies, hugs, and all shite like this?"

"You're so fucking British, it hurts" you laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, I want something like this. Someone to hold me, someone that cares about me and I know it. Sex comes in package, of course, but it's just… ugh, I want a man" you groaned.

You feel as pathetic as ever, when Simon doesn't respond – because how exactly should he? He wasn't vocal about things like this, he usually just nod his head, and there it was, another topic. A miracle it was that he was already listening to your date rambling, not cutting it off because he was uncomfortable or something.

Dreams about your love life… more girly conversation.

Mostly – you know guys who loved talking about it, obviously, and you adore it pretty much, especially when you can know their perspective on some things, but… Riley wasn't really one of them. He had "simple hookups" as he said one day, when you asked him about doing double-dates. It wasn't even an option, he just liked to ocassionally fuck and that's all.

So you stopped trying a few months ago for a double-date. Instead, you focused more on finding a man that would meet your expectations at least in the middle, and that was exhausting, to be honest. Tinder dates were just a disaster after disaster – if it wasn't some catfish, a guy that wanted to marry you and have kids after two weeks of writing, it was most definitely a guy with a desire to bang you quickly.

Romance was dead these days, you noticed. That wouldn't keep you away from trying to find someone, though. Patience was a key in things like these.

"Maybe you will set me up with one your friends? It wouldn't suck. You know them." you think out loud.

"Definitely too much wine f'you." Simon takes your glass, and pours all of the liquid to his mouth, swallowing it like it was some kind of juice, not alcohol. "You don't want a guy from military in your life. Trust me."

There's some sternness to his tone, at which you raise your eyebrow. It was just a funny comment from your side, nothing else – you know by the heart that this man doesn't like the idea of connecting his two worlds. "I know, Simon. Just joking, right?"

You place a hand on his. It's a comedic, yet, heartwarming view, when you see the size difference.

"And, you're pretty cool for a military guy."

He huffs. It seems like pretty cool offends him, but he doesn't say it out loud, so it can be only your imagination working. "You met me before I enlisted. 's different."

"How different?"

"You knew me before military."

He doesn't give you another answer that night, nor the continuation of this one – he brushes you off, like you are some kind of bug that is disturbing him, and brings up another topic, about his deployment. He asks if you can watch his apartment when he's gone, take care of it; it's stupid, Simon knows that you will always agree, but it's the need of asking you anyway.

And, he likes coming home, where he can smell your perfume, where he can see that you made some changes. You tend to do that a lot, mostly buying stuff to his apartment. "It looks worse than room in the hospital" you always say, when he cocks his eyebrow with amusement. He doesn't say that, but he finds it really adorable that you care so much, to make his space… cozier, even if he's not really attached to it. Mostly, it's for your comfort when you come to visit him, and that happens a lot; not like he minds it. Anyone else would be banned from his apartment, but you? Oh God, you wouldn't be, not in the milion years.

You could probably be the worst ever to him; call him names, punch, anything, and he would still be your Simon. It's what he was used to, to being by your side, no matter what time, no matter if you were in the good mood or not; your presence was everything to him.

Not like he'd ever confess that, but it is what you know, silently.

Yet, you are so good to him. Always sending him letters or texting him when he is on deployment. A couple of times, you sent him little things too, if he forgot something, photos included too, but new ones; mostly you captured views, but you were here once or twice. His happiness may not be that visible to outsiders, but his heart is full every time.

"My girl", he'd tell boys when they saw a polaroid of you, swiftly tucking it into his vest because no one was allowed to see it more than three seconds.

Often, Gaz joked if you are actually his girl even if you're not dating, but it sounded so bizzare to Ghost. How would you not be his? Thirteen years of friendship counted as something beyond being only his best friend, no? At least in his mind it was like this. He was used to you dating briefly other guys, but it lasted maybe a few months top. Nothing serious, probably his hookups were more meaningful than your relationships.

So you can easily imagine his confusion, when your mutual friends tell him big news about your new object of interest; someone that he doesn't even know yet, but he's not really his fan on the beggining.

It was just a month of being away.

His eyes are on you now; you are embarrassed, looking anywhere but at him. You don't even speak, you just wave your hand in dismissive manner, trying to change the topic because you don't really want to talk about it. Not in the presence of your best friend, at least.

It works for everyone but Simon, and you know it by the way he looks at you, processing what he just heard. Changing a topic, sudden talkativeness from your side is like buying time in that, time precious to think what to say to your best friend later on.

Because you know for the fact that he'll ask. He always does, and now he has a reason.

You have your reasons why you haven't told him. "It's nothing serious. That's why I didn't tell you." your voice is a little more silent than usual, but he can hear it anyway. You two are taking a walk to your apartment with no one around; and it's awkward one.

Simon seems like he doesn't want to say anything about your poor choice of men. It worries you; he always wanted somehow to make fun of you or make comment. Now, it's just a nod, like he gets it, but you know it's not it. He doesn't get it.

But you don't know what it is.

"C'mon!" you nudge him, and when it doesn't seem to affect him, you stand right in front of him. A little wobbly because of alcohol, your vision isn't so great too, but it makes him stop in his tracks. "Say something."

"Somethin'" he grumbles, and you can't help but roll your eyes. "What? Told me-"

"-I know what I told you!" you cup his face in your hands. Your head is a bit hazy, but the intensions are clear; making him talk and soft. It always works, so you have a lot of hope. "He's a good guy, but I want to meet him a bit closer to be… certain about him, you know? You've heard me whining about boys a bit too much."

"You can tell me everything." he muses, and you can't help but smile at that. Of course – of course you can tell him everything. You never doubted it for a second, and you think of yourself as stupid, doubting that he wouldn't want to hear about it. "Ill be the judge of that, though. Good guy thing."

"I can't be trusted?" you tease, and when he lets out a low chuckle, you grin even more. It's like a reward after him being his grumpy self.

"No." he shakes his head. "You don't know what is good for you. But that's why I'm here."

Under the influence of alcohol, you didn't pay too much of attention to his words; probably you wouldn't pay attention to it even if he'd say this when you are sober. Simon as your protector – it's so natural, you don't even need to think about it as something weird. It's just the way things are for thirteen years, everyone knows this.

Your friends, who were a bit reluctant on the beggining, but two parties later, when he joined the competition of drinking on time and wasn't drunk at all, he won over their hearts.

It was tougher with your parents, when you were in highschool. A little distanced at first, they constantly asked where were his parents (which, you told them, was rude asking, especially to his face), telling you how much of a bad news he could be for you. Suggestion of him ruining your future was the worst, you never thought of him this way; that discussion caused you to give them the silent treatment for a few days.

Apparently after that, suggesting that Simon is around you too much, clinging to your side and giving you "weird glances", they stopped the narrative, admitting that the boy might be damaged, but not broken. You still felt like they're judging their every move, but seeing that he had pretty good life plan, seeing that he thought about military and went here actually? Hell, they completely stopped being suspicious in any means.

Riley just had this thing of charming people, even if they didn't like him in the beggining. He had everything under his finger, trying to keep things under control – it was like that… pretty much since the beggining of his life. You met him when he was an adult, but he always liked to keep things under control; people, things that he cared about. What belonged to him was sacred, untouchable for anyone else.

The possessiveness started in his early childhood with toys, when he absolutely despised everyone who just wanted to touch his things, to lay their dirty, filthy fingers here. In early classes, it was considered just rude.

When he was older though, he started fighting for various things. Knowing he has the advantage, he used his legs, fists, when he had to, and no one was looking, besides the actual victim. He wasn't stupid; he knew how troublesome the public can be, he also knew the power of manipulation a bit too well to get caught so easily. Wasn't the plan, getting caught; it once happened, but because he wanted to; he even broke his own nose, making it like the other guy did it, just to get what he needed. The reputation of kid who was broken in the childhood, so he's just not opening on others was… suitable, for him. No one could suspect anything, especially when the kid just happened to be "attacked" by one of the popular ones, right?

The idea of power was something that Simon truly desired from the beggining; maybe it has something to do with the lack of his parents in his life, being transferred from one foster family to another. Maybe it's just him being a little fucked up – who knows.

What mattered, was the fact he had you. You, so sweet, so considerate to be by his side, to be protected by him, to be the person who "opened" because of her. Little did you know, he opened just because he wanted to be closer to you, not those fuckers you hang out with.

If you knew his past, you would have another reasons in mind, why he showed up to meet your potential new boyfriend. Jealousy, posessiveness, power complex, him being a control freak who can't give you to anyone he personally doesn't trust – if ever, considering you were his precious best friend. He isn't willing to share.

You aren't really aware of him being this crazy. You think of his flaws, and you see someone that has been damaged, someone that you can and will help, if he just asks for it – or if you'll see he needs it. So, naturally, you help, and grin the widest you can, when you see him in the door. He shows completely unexpected. It doesn't take you long to wrap your hands around his neck, tight, as you hug him.

Happy as always because you can see your friend, happy as ever because moments like these means a lot to you. When he's deployed, you can't even see him, so you're taking all in when he's right in front of you.

"Hope 'm not interruptin'." he murmurs into your hair, as his head is practically buried in them; he has to bend down a little to be at your level, but it's something he enjoys. The power.

"Never." you say immediately, not even hesitating in your statement. "Actually, you found a pretty good moment."

"That I did, eh?" his eyebrow arches, as he straightens up.

"As always. Nick's here, you have to meet him."

|READ THE REST ON AO3|

[alexander-arcturus-black-lupin]

Loki using his Shadows on you after your behaviour at a party

TW: Slight Voeyerism, sex with shadows, hints to somnophilia.

Odin had held a grand festival. It had beautiful nymphs and goddesses from different worlds. You had dressed in a beautiful black top with a matching skirt. The shirt cut off before your navel and the skirt cut off before your thighs.

Wrapped in a beautiful glittery veil, and a golden headband. You were stunning, in Loki's eyes you shined brighter than all the stars above, glittering on the ceiling.

Grünle a jöttenhimer had asked you to dance and you agreed to one just to indulge him. Suprisingly akward was far from it. He was a gentleman through and through. With slight jokes and remarks. You enjoyed his company yes. Buqt you wished to be in the arms of a god a few yards away.

Although those yards felt like seas. You knew this wasn't one sided as you felt his gaze on you, and you only the entire time. Grünle brought you close for the last time and gave you a polite hug.

Kissing you cheek, he smiled and told you to enjoy yourself. You simply smiled and said you would.

You allowed the music and the wine to guide you, mingling with he crowd. You didn't feel his gaze anymore. You started to turn but was caught when yoy fwlt something trace your waist.

Or rather.

Someone.

"You of all people should know that i get jealous very easily, especially with people i care about," he whispered gently into your neck.

He moved you to he music and you began to dance. You didn't need to look behind you, or at the long veiny hands infront of you.

And he was jealous.

He slowly twirled you and you glimpsed his face.

He was jealous.

The dance between you was filled with tension, he held you closer at parts, his hand going higher towards your neck as though to collar you.

You smiled to yourself, if he ever wished to do that, boy would you let him. He kissed your cheek at the end of the dance. Before stealing one from you lips. It was a quick one.

You only bit your lip and curtsied and after your dance gave your hand out to another, and another, and another. Till you swore you shoes had worn out. With every dance, they would swoop in a kiss your cheek.

You could basically feel his jealousy rising with each peck. You had gone out to the adjoining balcony for air. You tried to gather your thoughts. You had teased the god of mischief. Surely some form of punishment should be on its way.

As you stood pondering what you had done. You realised you weren't alone. You felt them.

His shadows.

You felt them slip under your dress, fondling and groping you. One even slipped into your hand and took your drink. Sliding it onto the balcony table.

The slowly relieved you of you dress sliding it off your shoulders. Soon you were on your back, softly moaning at the invisible person on you. You felt everything, from your breasts to your nethers.

It's not like you've never been touched there before, it's just that you've never been touched by his shadows.

The moved in sync guiding you to your orgasm, one went over your mouth to stop anyone from getting to hear you.

Loki was the type to either fuck you infront of everyone, or the keep your moans and pleasures to himself.

It stopped at your breasts for a minute giving it a light squeeze before heading up your face to your ear.

Over and over, these shadows were relentless. Guiding you to every orgasm. You were a sweating heaving mess. You turned to try and crawl away but they wouldn't let go.

Finally they released you. Cleaning you up aswell. Your mind was hazy and in a mess. Slowly one slid up your body again.

"The things I wish to do to you lovely, but alas my shadows will have to suffice for now, do not wait up for me love, i shall come for you, then, I shall have you, awake or not."

lo elysium.

You felt the floor open at your feet and off you went. You hoped loki would join you soon.

A/N: curtsied

Idk how to spell it and I'm too lazy for da shit

Also if y'all cannot picture the outfit, I got reference from. The Dragon King's bride on WEBTOON , CHAPTER 16

Also reader is either black or like dark skinned, am I projecting? 🤔 maybe🤷🏾‍♀️

[circuitcircus]

in defense of kabumisu……..

addressing things I see people say about why kabru being shipped w mithrun is ‘bad’ or why their canon relationship ‘doesn’t mean anything’ while also clearing up misconceptions of the characters some fans have

listen it keeps popping up and I just gotta do this or my brain will melt (if you don’t see it around then god I wish that were me) there’s an age gap!- erm there’s also an age gap in farcille (ily), the most popular ship in the series...also chilchuck looks like a kid but a lot of fans recognize him as a dilf because of his relative age, so there should be no age gap discourse among adult characters because it feels so conditional tbh

kabru taking care of mithrun is racist!- marcille likes to take care of others as well. is that sexist, or just an aspect of her character?

kabru isn’t treated like a servant, waiting on mithrun hand and foot…I mean he gives mithrun a foot massage but no one told him to do all that lmfao

he's also not the only one to care for mithrun. pattadol is shown to worry for him and milsril was the one to start taking care mithrun in the first place after he…...y’know. speaking of which-

they probably met when kabru was a kid!- neither of them showed signs of recognizing each other the entire time mithrun was introduced nor when they were together. and im pretty sure KABRU of all people would show some kind of recognition if they'd met before. it's kabru!!! the people person!!! mr. "i-noted-down-50+-characters-in-this-dude's-backstory-for-fun-and-actually-enjoy-social-gatherings"

you would think some kind of memory would come back to him especially after hearing mithrun’s backstory if milsril had even told kabru about him as a kid. but nope. it’s just fan speculation unless there's a side comic suggesting otherwise that i haven't seen

mithrun doesn't care about kabru, his shapeshift double looked like shit!- it's obviously because of mithrun's (then) lack of desires that it looked like that, but they really grow on each other

i think it's safe to assume it'd look more like kabru after they spent so much time together (also laios can barely even remember kabru's name..also saw his face multiple times and didn’t recognize him when they talked for the first time)

mithrun is racist!- he’s actually the least likely character to be racist since he lost his desires and that includes a desire for superiority over others. he even calls his past self out on that part of himself. the other elves in that side comic were being just as racist to shorter lived races but just didn’t use ‘outdated slurs’

(unfortunately literally every main character in dunmeshi is at least a lil prejudiced, but I believe it’s worldbuilding and a sign of the times rather than a reason ryoko kui is giving to hate each character)

taking care of others is a pain in the ass!- saying this as a reason kabru and mithrun shouldn't be together is basically saying disabled people shouldn't be allowed to have romantic relationships because they're a "burden"...if someone is actually willing to put in the work, then let them be.

that's not even all of their relationship, mithrun is the fighter of their duo and kabru would've been killed by the shapeshifter or something if he'd fallen down the hole on his own since he sucks at fighting monsters. mithrun helps collect ingredients for cooking every time, too (barometz fruits and griffin egg). he pulls his weight and then some!! i feel like people forget that part of mithrun a lot somehow.

+senshi literally cooks for everyone all time. it's kind of an important aspect of the narrative.

+also, while it is a popular fan thing I see around that kabru handfeeds mithrun, he literally never does lol this is mithrun using his own hands to eat:

also here we have him washing his own body

just saying because people like to treat mithrun like a baby even though the narrative respects him as a capable adult who also has special needs because of an accident. he’s captain for a reason

kabru hates taking care of mithrun!- not exactly, he was initially surprised and put off but got used to it quickly. i’m sure he’s grateful for all the times mithrun saved him from a monster and teleported them out of danger as well

he even starts doing “unnecessary” things for mithrun’s comfort and safety like when mithrun pushes himself too hard fighting, even after his mission to take care of him was complete when the canaries came back

here is even kabru resting while mithrun keeps watch (mithrun let him sleep for 5 hours before waking him up from the nightmare earlier, too):

there's nothing more to their relationship!- they actually have had a very tight and consistent dynamic since they met and they incite the most change within each other by the end. kabru is the one who inspires mithrun to create new desires so he doesn't waste away, and mithrun is the first person we see kabru being genuine with and it leads him to be more honest with others by the end instead of tiptoeing around everyone all the time (that mask was also the reason some ppl initially disliked kabru…)

kabru’s relationship with mithrun is honestly so important for his character and vice versa, but it’s often disregarded because of one over exaggerated aspect of it (an aspect that isn’t even the first way they interact with each other) or because people want to just straight up ignore it for some reason 🥲🥲

kui dedicates many panels to them that don't particularly serve the narrative as a whole in order to demonstrate this and i think that's pretty significant

you're taking this too seriously!- as if i'm the first person in the world to be crazy about a ship or the characters 😭 i love analyzing text and it's upsetting to see them mischaracterized when kui lays out the characters so clearly and deliberately

also they end up touching each other like all the time and have the kind of canon validation most ppl can only dream of lol i feel so insane look at this:

and this is just when they're first getting to know each other cuz there's a fuckload more

kinda hard to explain how i don't actually need them to get married or whatever but i'd die on this hill for them and i enjoy their dynamic immensely

haha you thought you were reading ship discourse but it was actually a character analysis 🤪🤪🤪

also don’t somehow take this to mean I think anyone has to ship them, I just need everyone to understand these accusations kind of don’t make sense especially when they can also apply to other pairs or characters

bonus kabru just looking at mithrun:

[a-star-that-burns-brightly]

[ content warning: discussion of in-canon sexual abuse ] Maybe it’s just because I’m not too active in the ALNST fandom and mostly observe from afar, but I think this fandom brushed aside way too quickly the fact that Till was sexually assaulted. I have never seen anyone talk in depth about like, what that actually means in terms of his arc and the storytelling of his character. Which I find deeply, deeply upsetting because holy fucking shit.

This man right here has been told, basically his entire life, that not only is he himself not worthy of being treated as a human, but that his body is not his body, but a piece of property that can be owned. And whoever owns his property can use it for whatever, and however they wish. Now, dehumanization is nothing new or unique in this world, obviously. The very concept of Pet Humans is dehumanizing by nature, leaving all six of our main characters as victims to it, even those who are more well-off like Mizi. But Till is a specially fucked up case almost distinctly unlike the rest, because he is actually treated like a fucking dog.

(x) Ivan: If you keep rebelling like that, they won’t ever remove your collar you know? Till: This annoying bastard… — Ivan: I told you so, didn’t I? You didn’t listen? Till: This annoying bastard... (translation courtesy of @leiikos on youtube)

(x)

An unruly animal who needs to be leashed up and put in it’s place. Animals, as is common knowledge, are not on the same level as a human being. But they are ordained to follow the commands of those above them. And if someone (thing) isn’t doing as it is told…

It deserves to be taught better. But I’m getting ahead of myself. This is the mindset that has followed Till his entire life by the ones who were supposed to take care of him. He is not human, even less human than the existing inhuman. He is a pet, even more so than the other pets, an animal. A thing. Property. Something to own. And the best thing about owning something?

You gain the ability to do whatever you want to it. Till’s body was not his from the start. It was used as something to toy around with, experiment with, to train and train and train, presumably for his whole life. His body, his skin, his flesh and bone and blood, it was all nothing more than a plaything. So what if he screams? Just ignore it. Or don’t. If this competition has taught us anything, voices have the most value of all. On top of it being reinforced that Till is not deserving of humanity, he is also not deserving of his bodily autonomy. People are free to do whatever they want with his body because it’s not his body, it’s theirs. And that brings us, finally, to the scene itself

He can’t sing her song, he refuses to. This isn’t the first time he’s refused to do something, far from it actually. What was once an innocent puppy with dilated hope in his eyes has grown into an angry, disobedient mutt. And we know what happens to an animal that refuses to do what they’re told. But there’s something interesting about dogs, or rather about the ones they descended from, the wolf: When the circumstances call for it, they will bite the hand that’s supposed to feed them.

And here is where I intrude to remind you that this is the only time we see anyone physically fighting back against the aliens in the confines of Alien Stage. We see Hyuna and Mizi fucking up aliens in All In, but that was after they had escaped from the cage. And you could make a case for Mizi trying to escape the grasp of the guards that grabbed her in Ruler of My Heart, but from what we saw she didn’t actually lay a hand on them and more so just tried to force herself out of their grasp. though if you disagree with me on that that's fine Here though? Till has this bitch’s face grabbed into his palm with a bottle in hand ready to smash it directly in between it’s eyes. I consider this to be the first act of physical violence shown against the aliens within the uncomfortably tight enclosure. And it’s triggered not because of anything personally done to Till, which on its own could probably fill a list that reaches the ground. But because of the prospect of Mizi being dead. Till knows that this place is shit, that his life is shit. Said so directly on his profile.

Dislikes: Everyone, including Guardian Urak (translation courtesy of @kh47uo on twitter)

But he stays regardless because Mizi is there. If Mizi is dead, Till has absolutely nothing to lose…Right?

I can almost imagine him thinking: There’s nothing you can put me through that’s worse than every other way you’ve hurt me. …But there was. Oh there was.

A final, disgusting message to the pet to put him back in his place. Back on his leash. Making sure he will never forget where he stands for the rest of his days.

And that is really what the sexual assault of Till represents to me. It is a cruel reminder to Till that fighting back is impossible, having hope, being free, it might as well be a fool's fantasy. He will always be less-than-human, less than anything. His body will always be the property of the ones that were supposed to protect him, claimed, and then used used used until it’s worn out and dead.

And the aliens chose to exemplify that fact in the most direct way they possibly could.

So what if he screams? Just ignore it. Or don’t. If this competition has taught us anything, screams have the most value of all

[salmonskinrolltf]

Soulmates 2

[Here's a sequel of sorts to my previous story Soulmates (you don't need to have read it to understand this story). With thanks to @guytransformedforever, @beardobession, @tf-vigilante, @maletransformationlover, @clevertreephilosopher, @scorpionofredsand, and @maletffanatic for providing the photos used as inspiration.]

Hello, my name is Tyler. This is me:

And this is my roommate, Dylan:

Now look, I don’t have a problem with gay people. My cousin is a lesbian. And Dylan is a great roommate. Stays out of my way when we’re not gymming together, but is always down to hang when I need someone to talk to. I just wish he would be less in my face with all his gay shit. Rainbow flags everywhere, blasting Ariana Grande at all hours, constantly bringing new Grindr hookups back to the apartment but giving me side-eye when I ogle women. It’s just… too much for me.

Here’s the thing. I might actually be able to change that. I have this friend Evan, who I’ve wingmanned for on a few occasions over the past year. One night, when we were getting drunk together, he shared his secret with me. He has a magic gift. He clasped my hand and said “tomorrow, you will wake up and have this magic too.” And sure enough, the next day I could feel a tingle coursing through my veins, and I automatically had the knowledge of how to channel it.

Now I have the ability to change somebody’s future. I can’t fiddle with anything that’s innate or has already happened to them. Like, I can’t just make Dylan straight. But I can shape his future decisions or actions, and my magic will make alterations to speed the process along. Like if I made him decide to work out more, he would basically become a muscle beast within the week. Not that I’d do that. I still gotta be the alpha here. I just want to make him a little more… palatable. Someone cool to kick back with all the time, even if he sucks dick. Let’s see... I think I know what will work.

TOMORROW, DYLAN WILL BECOME OBSESSED WITH SPORTS

———————————

Hello, my name is Dylan:

Sports are my LIFE. I never cared about them much growing up, but about a month ago I felt the urge to join my local queer volleyball team and never looked back. It became my everything. It’s been great exercise, but on top of playing volleyball and getting totally jacked off of it, I’ve loved the sense of camaraderie. I love my team. So much so that I even pierced my nipples on a dare when we lost the semifinals. My teammate River also recommended I stop dyeing my hair, and I think the look is really working for me. For some reason, even though it’s only been a month, my hair has grown out significantly since then. Was the red dye stunting its growth or something? Anyway. I also feel like my roommate Tyler and I have really bonded. We’ve been watching baseball games together and I think he appreciates how into it I am. He says he’s excited to bro out while watching football together in the fall.

I love Tyler, but here’s the thing. Maybe I love him too much. I’ve always had this huge crush on him, and no matter how many random Grindr hookups I try to distract myself with, I just can’t stop hoping that one day he’ll give up women for good and decide he loves me. Especially now that we’re spending all this time together, bumping chests when our team wins and shit.

I know us getting together is never going to happen, but I have this… temptation. I was born with a gift. Or maybe I wasn’t. Something my twink friend Paul told me made me think maybe he had something to do with it. Anyway, I have the ability to reshape someone’s past. I change just one thing about their past, and everything about their present just ripples forward to reflect that change. It’s a delicate art. Changing something big can have huge effects that are totally unpredictable. It’s a major temptation to make Tyler gay, but who knows how he’d turn out. Plus, I think that’s just too invasive.

But… Maybe I could change something small about him. Something that would make him less my type, and allow me to move on and focus on finding a boyfriend who would actually be into me. I’m into nice guys. I really love how kind and caring he is. And come on, he’s a FIREFIGHTER. So maybe I can try…

TYLER GREW UP SELFISH AND SPOILED

———————————

What’s up, I’m Tyler.

You dig the jacket? Yeah, I’m still a firefighter, I’m just off duty. But babes dig whatever look I rock, you know what I mean? I get what I want, and what I want is a lot of one night stands. I know how to get ‘em, too. I’m so glad I made the decision to grow this beard out a year ago, it’s opened so many doors for me. And opened a lot of legs.

I’m getting what I want from Dylan, too. Finally, I have a roommate who’s willing to grab brews and watch the game with me. But I think I fucked up when I changed him. Queer volleyball isn’t exactly “sports,” at least not in my book. I thought he’d come out like a linebacker or something! I mean, nipple rings were never part of the plan. The gay guys seem to really go for them, too, so he’s got an even steadier stream of Grindr hookups coming in and out of the place.

On top of that, I’m a little sick of his shit. He’s always giving me lip about stupid stuff like leaving my dishes in the sink or dropping my unwashed uniform on the bathroom floor. He says it’s unsanitary. Like his parade of twinks aren’t dying to sniff that shit anyway. He just doesn’t get it. I think his volleyball teammates are a bad influence too. They’re all so obsessed with aesthetic and anti-hetero rhetoric. I still can’t make him straight, but I can definitely make him less… annoying.

TOMORROW, DYLAN WILL START HANGING OUT WITH MORE STRAIGHT PEOPLE WHO WILL HELP HIM STOP WORRYING ABOUT STUPID SHIT AND BE LESS PRISSY, WELL-GROOMED, AND UPTIGHT

———————————

Yo, I’m Dylan.

Yeah, I cut my hair shorter than the last time you saw me. The upkeep was just getting to be too much, y’know? A couple weeks ago, about the time I dumped that lame-ass volleyball team I was on, I just got bored with shaving every day, too. I invested in a trimmer and now I rock the stubble look, and it’s working for me. I’ve gained a bit of weight since then, and it’s all for the better because I joined my local football league. Having a few extra beers with my new buds afterward just adds to my potential as a linebacker, anyway.

I thought hanging out with more straight people would make me get used to their vibe and kinda inoculate me against Tyler, but I’m still totally obsessed with him. He’s more of a bad boy now, but I’m finding that less unappealing than I used to. Plus, he’s still parading around in his uniform all the time. I can’t help it! I’ve jerked off more times that I can count to his Mr. June photos in the local firefighter calendar.

Whenever I see his mom, she’s constantly going on about how, out of all his Tonka toys growing up, the fire truck was always his favorite. She thinks that’s why he grew up to be a firefighter. Maybe I can change that core memory into something a little more… disreputable. That would definitely make him not my type anymore. I hope.

TYLER’S FAVORITE TOY GROWING UP WAS A TONKA MOTORCYCLE

———————————

Fuckin’ A, man, I’m Tyler.

God, I love my hog. She’s a beaut, ain’t she? My parents wanted me to grow up to be a doctor or a lawyer or a firefighter or some shit, but all I ever wanted to do was ride my hog. Chicks want to ride my hog too, and I let them. As long as they don’t go near my bike! Hahaha, get it? Fuck, I love life. Let me take another drag on this stogie real quick.

Where was I? Oh yeah, my roommate, Dylan. I wish I didn’t have to room with anyone, but my boss at the garage keeps refusing to promote me. I should knock him around one of these days, see if that changes his mind. Anyway, sure, Dylan isn’t so much of a priss anymore. He doesn’t give me shit if I leave my grease-stained clothes on the couch or light up when we’re watching a football game.

But I wanted him to be straight-acting, you know? I tried to train him up as my wingman but he wore a super gay shirt with all these see-through holes to the party, and all the chicks kept their eyes on him the whole time! Fucker. Why can’t he be more like his brother? I’ve seen pictures. That dude is a full on redneck slob, got a Confederate tattoo and everything. I know they had the same backwater-ass trailer trash upbringing, why can’t he be rougher around the edges? You know what… maybe he can!

TOMORROW, DYLAN WILL REALIZE HE WANTS TO EMBRACE HIS WHITE TRASH UPBRINGING

———————————

Hey y’all, I’m Dylan.

Hoo-ee, life has been good lately. I dunno why I resisted my good ol’ boy roots for so long. This goatee really makes me look rugged, dunnit? Also the chest hair. So grabbable. I decided to stop shaving my body, and poof! There it went. A full rug, within like two days I reckon. Like a sign from God. This is how I was always meant to be.

I know I was trying to push away my crush on Tyler by making him not my type, but what’s the fuckin’ point? I need someone who can handle me, and this hot as fuck biker dude I’ve created might be the only one who can handle me at this point. I ride ‘em rough and bareback, just like the horses back home, and weak city dudes just can’t handle it.

Will he be the same if he’s not straight? Maybe not. But as long as he can take my eight inches, I’ll keep him around. I vaguely remember having some sort of compunction about changing him so drastically, but I’m too horny to remember what it was.

Fuck it.

TYLER WAS BORN GAY

———————————

Uh… hi. I’m Tyler. Who are you again?

Sorry, I’m pretty forgetful. Daddy Dylan says I don’t gotta remember shit though, as long as I let him ride me as rough and as long as he likes. He’ll do all the rest for me. He tells me where to go, what to do, who to do. There are so many nice, hot guys who are willing to pay our rent if I turn a few tricks. I love it.

I’ve been like this as long as I can remember. My mom and dad kicked me out when I was 18, in my senior year of high school. I was caught sucking my English teacher’s dick behind the locker rooms. I never went to college after that, but it’s not like I was getting good grades anyway. Sucking Mr. Brentmon’s cock wasn’t for my health, you know. He had a nice juicy one, too. I still dream about it sometimes.

What was I saying? Oh yeah, I took up with this biker gang for a while after getting kicked out. I’ve always had a thing for bikers. But once they got through using my ass, they got bored. It was hard for a while, but now things are oh, so easy. I get all the dick I could ever want. I have a roof over my head, and no job to worry about. All I do is go to the gym and eat and fuck and I never have to think. Dylan said he might take me out muddin’ sometime too. I don’t know what that is, but anything Dylan does is fun. Fuck, I love the way his goatee tickles my skin when he kisses me, so rough, so manly. Way manlier than I’ve ever been. It’s so fucking hot. I love how he takes care of me.

I really have no complaints. I wouldn’t change anything about my life, even if I could remember how…

[skyfallscotland]

Ok so Rebecca did a one hour panel today in Sydney with Lynette Noni hosting, where she asked questions and then they opened it to fans. I've kind of summarised the things I haven't seen mentioned over and over, but I don't frequent the subreddit anymore or use TikTok, so there might be overlap. In any case, it's long. Settle in. I've sectioned it into plot/character relevant first, then themes and interesting facts about her and her writing. Basically, you all came with me. 💗

• In book three (and every book thereafter) we'll be going to more and more new places. She specifically worded it as "watching the map expand" whether that's significant or not, I don't know. (I was thinking Isle Kingdoms for OS, but maybe that's just my wishful thinking).

• She implied Jack will have a reason (explained) for uh...being a power-hungry prick? lol

• She's hella defensive of Dain, which I love. #DainApologistsClub 😌 Some highlights include:

"You guys give Dain so much shit for the same thing Xaden does. You really do and you're so fast to forgive Xaden and not Dain. Why? Is it because he's hot?"

And, "when push comes to shove, all Dain did—yes he violated her boundaries, as does Xaden—but all he did was trust his dad when his best friend no longer spoke to him. That's it."

"When Dain looks at her (in the interrogation chamber) and says 'if you had just told me, none of this would have happened', he's not just talking about the interrogation, he's talking about Liam, he's talking about if she had just trusted him (in Fourth Wing) it never would have happened." 😢

• She was asked about Liam's appearance in the interrogation chamber and definitively put to rest any signet theories involving that. "She's so alone in that moment and...I don't read fan theories but sometimes they reach my ears; she's completely disconnected from her magic in that moment, she can't even reach out for Tairn or Andarna, which are the bonds that are actually most important to her. She can't reach out for Xaden. And that's the one person who would have prevented that from happening the last year, so it's natural that's who her mind would summon."

• She's thought about a spin-off series, but she's just trying to survive this series.

• Someone asked her if there'd be any redemption and romance for Jack Barlowe and honestly, thanks guys, I don't think she's ever coming back to this country 💀 ("Are you getting enough sleep? Uh...I mean, from his prison cell maybe? No.")

• Someone asked "what is Garrick's signet and why hasn't it been shown yet?" (shoutout to this girl, she's the real MVP) to which Rebecca said "it's very much in book three, I love it."

• Someone asked about the orange dragons and unpredictability re: Amber, Jack, Varrish and then Imogen and Brennan. Rebecca said some dragons might look for traits like their own and some look for balance because it's a partnership; and that Brennan as a strategist needed that little bit of unpredictability in his life (lol, I think he got it).

• She didn't always plan for Violet to have two dragons. Originally it was going to be one (Tairn) and the editor had hoped that she would sway towards a weaker, smaller dragon and she thought that was a little too close to Abraxos in ToG, and so they compromised and gave her both. She also went on to say she doesn't like overpowered heroines and since Tairn is extremely powerful, Andarna balanced that out. (I'm not...I'm not sure how that works out? But that's what was said.)

• We are definitely going to find out more about the original six (and Lynette asked if that was a spin-off possibility and was shushed, so she's thought about it at least, but I get the idea she's thought about a lot of possibilities 😂)

• There's no timeframe for the release of the final two books.

• Someone asked if Violet's dad was Malek to which she was kind of shocked. He's not a god, guys. And low-key I JUST WANT TO KNOW HIS NAME. 😤

• On Sgaeyl: "You do (get more of her) but holy crap is she pissed. So—I'll tell you that about Onyx Storm—she is really, really mad at Xaden and she's not exactly speaking to him at the moment. So it's hard for her to speak into that bond when she's not speaking to him." 💔

• She was asked about the Violet dated Halden theory (which was fucking hilarious because the poor girl misspoke and asked if Xaden dated the prince and we were all really confused about which TikToks the poor thing had seen (note to self: consider cam/xaden), anyway after we got to the bottom of that, Rebecca replied, "I think you should read the third book." Which I'm taking to mean, the man is making a damn appearance and we're gonna find out for ourselves 👀 Hey, if I'm lucky maybe we'll even find out his surname

• Finally she said she has EP on the Amazon series, they've all been exceptionally protective of it and that she's happy with how it's going (they're not near casting yet and she doesn't want to really comment on that ever, to leave each role open to as diverse a cast as possible). She said the production team has come to the signings in LA to meet readers and see what they love and are passionate about when it comes to the series to make sure that's honoured.

"Like I mean, I've seen certain...like what can I say without getting tackled to the ground? Let's just say they've already taken steps to make sure that what you guys love about the story is envisioned and that it's not run amok. And I'm very happy with it, they're super protective of it." Which could just be me reading into it, but the first place my brain went was the dragons 👀🐉 and the CGI or whatever.

• She was asked about where the inspiration for the universe came from and she said that when her Entangled decided they were going to do romantasy they asked her for five pitches and Fourth Wing was one of them (she won't say what the others were because she might still write them someday). She said she likes the fated mates trope but she wondered what that would look like if the dragons were the ones mated, not the humans and the humans who couldn't stand each other were forced to be around each other because of this. 

• Her first ever book was romantasy but it didn't sell

• She's never really written enemies to lovers before.

• She likes found family themes because she was raised in a military family and moved around a lot, so that makes it hard to keep in touch with your extended family, and after she married her husband and became a military wife, it was their found family that was there for her—it was her found family who helped her move her house, who sat with her when her husband was injured in Iraq, etc, so she thinks it's very important to show that your family is also the people you choose and that can be just as strong as any blood tie.

• She was asked (by Lynette) why she wanted to show death and the reality of war and she said, "I've been surrounded by it. My husband's been at war since 2003, he spent 22 years in the army, first as a 19 Delta cavalry scout and then ten years as an apache pilot and we buried our friends. And I saw what it did to him, and I saw what it did to our friends, I saw what it did to our children, to us, and I love being able to examine it from a fantasy perspective just because I think fantasy gives us a unique environment from which to critique our own world by viewing it through the lens of another. And I've always delved into those themes as to why we do this to each other and where is there hope to stop it?"

• As an author her favourite scenes in Fourth Wing were the dagger stealing scene (very important to their chemistry and romantic development—"she's the only person he's taught ever, how to actually kill him") and the first kiss scene.

In Iron Flame it was the interrogation scene and how that ends with Dain and Xaden and everything coming together.

When asked about a similar scene from Onyx Storm that elicited the same strong emotion from her she said "you're not gonna like it" and that's it 💀

• She would consider writing fantasy again after she's done with the Empyrean world, maybe one of her other pitches, but she won't truly think about it until she's survived this one.

• She spoke about the "kill your darlings" writing advice and how if you love a scene but it doesn't move the plot, you've gotta cut it, and how she did that with the final scene in Fourth Wing, which was originally 7k words of Violet POV pulling information out of Xaden.

• When asked about fan theories she actually said something I found a little sad. "I don't listen to fan theories. One, I'm not on TikTok—it's a little bit more important for me to be alive than to listen to what other people think they know about me, and two, I don't ever want fan theories to bleed into my writing."

〰️ And that's it! If anyone's going tomorrow, please voice record the whole thing and report back lmao 🙏 🫶🏼

ETA: part two is here, x

[yuukiiqwq]

Dandelions: Sukuna Ryomen x Reader

His heart beats only for you while yours beats for someone else, so he made a wish on a dandelion, hoping it would come true.

Context/Warnings: Fem!Reader, Soft!Sukuna, swearing, unrequited love, flower language, a bit suggestive

Wc: 2.7k

Part 2

It's not like he wanted to fall in love with you. It was actually your fault. You weaseled your way into his life and then his heart. If only you had left him alone, then none of this would have happened. But you were too god damn stubborn to leave him alone. It was all your fault.

It was so stupid how he fell in love with you. Sukuna absolutely hated cliché stuff. And here he is going through the stereotypical cliché plot. He even told you how much he hated it. He remembers telling you how he rather die than read those stupid romance books you like to read. They were full of stupid plot with disgusting mushy feelings. Basically, it's the same thing in every story. He always felt like his ears were going to fall off listening to you talk about those stories. Recently, you started to read this one-shot called Dandelion. Something about a guy having unrequited feelings for a girl for years and the girl liking someone else.

Absolutely fucking ridiculous.

Sukuna remembers how he met you. It was a few years ago, back when they were still in school. He was minding his own business and then you fucking popped out of nowhere. He wouldn't tell you but you scared the shit out of him when you suddenly appeared.

"Yknow, smoking is bad for you."

He turned around to see you at the door smiling.

"Y'know, not minding your own fucking business is bad for you," he scoffed. "Get out of here. This is my spot."

You walked up to him and snatched the cigarette away. You tossed it onto the ground and put out the light.

"They can cause many health problems," you say as you crossed your arms. "And I don’t see your name anywhere on this rooftop."

He glared at you– "Listen here, you brat. What I do has absolutely nothing to do with you. So skip along to your friends and go bother them instead."

"What if you are my friend?" You said smugly. Your eyes were shining with mischief. "And since you said to go bother my friends, that's what I'm doing."

"You must think you're so fucking funny," he snarled at you.

You put your hands on your waist– "I am actually very funny."

He took a step towards you and towered over you. "Leave."

You looked up at him with a deadpan expression.

"No."

"Last warning. Leave."

"Make me."

News flash – He wasn’t able to get rid of you. He was unsuccessful no matter what he did.

You decided to bother him every single god damn day. Somehow, you always showed up at the rooftop whenever he was there. You just wouldn't leave him alone, so he decided to ditch the rooftop. To say he failed was something he didn’t want to admit. He didn't fail. He just decided to ignore you. But then you showed up in front of his classroom. You somehow found his classroom.

He clicked his tongue in annoyance and quickly tried to leave before you could catch up to him.

Mission escaping the brat– failed.

You were a fast little thing. You immediately caught up to him and were now walking side by side with him. This caused a lot of people in the hallway to stare at both of you. You two were an unexpected duo to see together.

"Sukunaaaaaaa"

Great. You even found out his name. Amazing. Whoever told you his information is dead. He's going to kill them.

"Sukuna, if you keep looking like that, you'll end up being super ugly. No wonder you don't have a girlfriend."

Sukuna turned around to face you– "You trying to pick a fucking figh–"

He wasn’t able to finish his sentence as you stuffed a mochi in his mouth. Where the fuck did that mochi come from?!

He quickly chewed the mochi and swallowed.

"Did you fu–"

"Was it good?" You quickly interrupted. "It's a new flavor that came out recently. A friend gave me some to try."

"I don't car–"

"It was a limited edition sale. My friend camped outside the shop for a whole day just to buy all the stocks."

You continued talking about it, and Sukuna wanted to just smack you. You were so annoying.

"I am going to smack you if you keep talking."

You immediately stopped talking and walking. You looked up at him and grinned mischievously.

"Wow, Sukuna. Didn't know you were kinky like that. It's ok, though! I like it rough, but take me out to dinner first. Bedroom activities can come later~"

This caused him to explode in anger. You were teasing him. He immediately stomped away from you. He could hear you laughing as you tried to catch up to him. Fuck. You were annoying as hell. Sassy and challenging him in every way.

Your eyes were gleaming with mischief. Did you have to say that? Now he wanted to put you in your place. Bend you over under him and–

Oh fuck. Now you implanted a curse in his head. Fucking minx.

After months of you constantly pestering him, he grew used to your presence. He started to enjoy it. Wait, no. He meant he was just tolerating you.

Yeah. That's right. He's just tolerating you.

"Sukuna! Stop!!!"

Sukuna immediately halted– "What's goin–"

"You almost stepped on some dandelions," you say as you knelt down to the floor.

Sukuna felt like he was going to pop a vein. He can't believe you stopped him for a weed. Can you let he walk to a restaurant in peace?! It was fucking Saturday. He should have never allowed you to follow him home back then.

"Are you fucking joking with me right now?" He looked down at you as you pluck the dandelion. "You stopped me for a fucking weed?"

"First of all, it's a flow–"

"It's a fucking weed."

"It's a flower!" You huffed. "And it's a wishing flower! You make a wish and then blow away the seeds!"

"Great, now you've gone crazy. Just the thing I need from you. As if you're not annoying enough."

"I have not gone crazy! People make wishes on dandelions!"

"And do you know if any of them got fulfilled?" He raised his eyebrow at you. "And I'm sure the people you talk of are kids."

"Well um–" You try to think of something to say as a comeback but come up with nothing.

He smiled smugly– "That's what I thought."

"That's not the point!" You quickly shoved a dandelion in front of his face.

"Get that weed away from my face. I'm starving for food, and you're stopping me for a weed."

"Geez, stop being a party pooper," you sulked. "Make a wish! Maybe it will come true and prove you wrong!"

"I am not going to do something so childish," he said as he pushed your hand away.

"I'll buy lunch!"

Sukuna stopped and thought about it for a second before saying– "And dinner."

If he was going to indulge in your childish antics and look like an idiot, he better get something out of it.

You reluctantly agreed, and he snatched the dandelion out of your hands. He made a wish and then blew the dandelion seeds away.

"There. Made my wish. Now I hope your wallet is ready."

"Whatever, you glutton! What did you wish for?"

"None of your fucking business brat."

The two of you spent a lot of time together. You eventually introduced Sukuna to your other friends. Which surprised Sukuna because at this point, with the amount of time you came and bothered him, he believed that your friends were imaginary.

A girl named Shoko Ieiri, who looks like she's sleep deprived. A guy named Suguru Geto, who, in his opinion, looks weird. Why is he smiling like that!? And finally, a guy named Satoru Gojo. He was the worst out of all your friends. He didn't do anything to him, but just looking at him makes Sukuna want to get rid of him. Cut him in half. Sukuna didn't understand exactly why until he looked at you, looking at him.

Although Sukuna personally knew nothing about love, he knew what he saw. He seen enough people do what they do when in love. He heard enough about the stupid love stories you like to read. He can see it in your eyes when you look at your friend. You liked him.

The way your eyes light up whenever he comes toward you. The way your cheeks start to turn red with a small blush. The way you nervously play with your hands. The smile you give whenever you're around him. A smile that can rival the sun. He felt a pain blossom in his chest as he clenched his fist. These are things he has never seen or gotten from you before.

He hated everything that was going on right now. He hated the way you would sneak glances at him when you think no one was looking. The way you lean into his touch. The way you looked at him with pure adoration and love.

He absolutely hated it.

It took a while for Sukuna to understand why he hated Gojo so much. Why just the sight of Gojo annoyed him. And it's all your fault.

He didn't even know when these feelings started. Was it when you guys first met and you stood your ground with him? Was it when you teased him? Was it when you kept bothering him? Was it when you guys would go out for lunch or dinner together? Was it when he took care of you when you were sick? Did he fall for your looks? Your personality? Was it because of the times you've spent together?

Fuck. He was pissed. Here he is, catching those disgusting mushy feelings for you. Something he sweared would have never happened, and he doesn’t even know how it even happened.

"Fucking hell," Sukuna sighs as he run his hand through his hair.

It should be fine, right? He'll just ignore this. Move on like he didn't realize he fell in love with you somewhere along this journey. These feelings won't last anyway. It will disappear soon. You liked someone else, too, so it should be easy to move on. Right?

Fucking wrong. He's never been more wrong in his life.

All of you have graduated and are now doing your own thing. You all meet up regularly to hang out. Although Sukuna made an effort to see you daily as much as possible–

Wait, no. Correction: He sees you daily because he knows you'll do something stupid if he wasn't watching over you. Nothing else, really.

It's not like Sukuna had trouble moving on. He's not dreaming about you daily. He doesn't want you. It's not like that at all. He obviously moved on from you while you still liked Gojo. No point in these feelings since they're a nuisance.

Deep down, even if he ignores it, he knows he still likes you. But it's not like you'll ever look his way like the way you look at Gojo. Unless an opportunity arrives and it just so happens to arrive. That opportunity came knocking at his door, and he isn't going to let it slip away.

After years watching you love someone else, now he is watching you get your heart broken by that same person. Honestly, he never understood why you fell in love with this guy. That guy was a child in a man's body. Like, who even drinks those sugary, coma-inducing drinks??

But here you are smiling through the pain. He saw small tears forming in your eyes before you quickly wiped them away and said there was dust in your eyes. Others may not notice it, but he does. He saw the hurt in your eyes when Gojo told them that he fell in love at first sight with someone.

Great. Now he wants to murder Gojo even more now for hurting you.

However, he can't help but feel happy? Relief? He doesn't know what he felt. He just knew that an opportunity was given. But he isn't going to be a shitty person and confess to you right when you got your heart broken. He'll wait until you heal. If you ever will. After all, he had already kept his feelings to himself for years. What's wrong with waiting a bit more?

He could make you happy. He would give it his god damn all to make you happy. He would never hurt you. He wouldn't make you cry. At least not cry in a sad way. You crying under him, though, is a different story–

He quickly shakes his head to get rid of that thought. He's getting distracted. You got him wrapped around your fingers, and you don't even know it. He couldn't help but sigh. He really is still in love with you.

He watches as you and Geto try to give Gojo advice on how to win over the person he likes.

"You're an idiot," he interrupted.

He stared at Gojo as he said it, but it was meant for you and himself, really. Both of you two are idiots. Both of you have unrequited love, like in those shitty stories you read. He really is living in the stupid cliché plot he hates. And it's all your fault.

A few months have passed since then. He knew you had mostly moved on. He can still see the hurt sometimes, but it's fading. He knew he should make a move soon. After all, if he doesn't, what if someone else approaches you? But he also knows that just because you moved on doesn't mean you'll see him as he sees you. So he's willing to wait for that day. The day you look at him the way he looks at you.

So here he is. Standing in front of a flower shop. Looking extremely out of place. If you told his past self that he fell in love with you and is now trying to pursue you, he can see his past self attempting murder. He really can't believe he's going to order flowers.

He took a few deep breaths and walked in.

The minute he walked in, a florist greets him– "Hello sir! How may we help you today?"

"Can you make me a boutique?"

"Of course, sir! What type of flowers would you like for the boutique?"

He wanted something to convey his feelings and message. He's done some research about flowers and their meaning. Many websites showed different things, but he eventually settled for one.

"I want..."

When he finally finished ordering the flowers, he went home. On his way back home, he noticed a dandelion.

"...it's a wishing flower! You make a wish and then blow away the seeds! ...People make wishes on dandelions!"

He stared at the dandelion for a few minutes before he clicked his tongue. He bent down and plucked it. He then made a wish and blew the seeds away. He didn't know why he did it. It's not like the dandelion would make his wish come true.

"Tsk. Can't believe I did this. It's fucking stupid."

You really made him a god damn softie so it's about fucking time you take responsibility.

A few days later, he asked you to meet him at your usual spot. A place that only the two of you knew. When he arrived with the boutique, you were already there. You were sitting on the bench, looking over the city.

He quietly stared at you for a while. You were so beautiful sitting there. If angels did exist, you'll be one of them. But then again, your personality was more like a devil. You cast a curse on his heart, and honestly, he didn't mind it. You can curse him for his entire lifetime as long as you accept him.

"Hey, brat. Look behind you."

When you heard the sound of his voice, you quickly turned around. You looked at him and smiled until you noticed the boutique in his hand. You gasped as your eyes widened.

Red chrysanthemum and astilbe. I love you and I will be waiting for you.

[chrissv4mp]

¡ YOU MADE ME HATE THIS CITY ! — CHRIS S.

chris masterlist & taglist // main masterlist

summary: you're not happy with chris. all he does is make you sad, and you're done with it.

pairing: chris sturniolo × fem!reader

warnings + topics: cursing, arguments, crying, chris is an asshole, driving under the influence, drinking, chris can drive in this one🗣, etc.

authors note: idk, basically how i feel when i'm with my bf anyway i'd listen to this album for a lifetime if i had to🗣🗣 I DIDNT KNOW HOW END THIS SOO sorry if the endinh is shit💔💔

word count: 4.9k

"when i'm away from you,

i'm happier than ever."

a laugh came from your throat as you grabbed taras arm, leaning on her for support as you both laughed your asses off at a joke told by nick.

he only smiled softly, trying to contain his own laughter as he watched his two friends. the taller boys eyes land on a guy across the room, and then he speaks, "hey, i'll be back. stay safe, and please don't go with any guys that look like creeps?"

you nod, and tara just smiles at him, "we won't, we're just here to have a good time. go get that man, nick!"

nick smiles, shaking his head as he looks away, turning his back to the both of you as he begins to walk to the other side of the building. tara turns to you again, tilling her head at the... sad look on your face?

"hey, what's wrong, babe?" her tone is soft, and she frowns slightly when you shake your head with a weak smile. your eyes meet hers, and she can tell somethings not right.

"there's clearly something wrong, y/n. come on, you know you can tell me anything. did someone do something to you? cause i swear on my life i'll beat their—" your eyes widen and you quickly cut her off with a nervous laugh.

"no, no, there's absolutely no need for that, tar," you give her a reassuring smile as you reach for her hand, running your thumb over her soft skin as you continue, "this is just the happiest i've been probably... all year?"

the shorter girl smiles, but then as your words hit, she feels another rush of sympathy for you, "well... i'm glad that you're having fun, but, you gotta let yourself be free some more, y'know?"

you nod, and then she continues, "go out with your friends, i'm free most of the time. and if you wanna be alone, then go do something for yourself, girl. i'm sure chris would also love to hang out with you."

he wouldn't, though. he didn't even come around most of the time, only texting you when he needed something and coming home just to sleep. hell, most of the time, he just slept over at some persons house who neither of you knew. he made you feel like you weren't lovable, always complaining about little things and then blowing up when you tried to defend yourself.

that's why you dreaded coming home after every hangout. you hated coming home to chris, just for him to yell at you and make you feel shitty. you really wish you could explain it better, the feeling he gives you. fuck, you even wished it was fake, the feeling of pure happiness whenever you weren't around the boy.

but everybody else's relationships are like this, right? it's normal, you tell yourself. everything chris has done to you is completely normal. you think. he hates when you think because he always say that your mind works in interesting ways. he always say that you have a terrible mindset, undermining your way of thinking.

"yeah. chris." you mutter, flashing tara a smile before you go to stare at your intertwined fingers, you don't even realize how hard your gripping her hand until she winces, "shit. i'm sorry."

she just shrugs, a reassuring smile on her face as she squeezes your hand. as she looks up at your face again, she frowns, "y/n..."

her mind wanders back to your last words, the mention of chris' name the one thing that set you off and made you act out, "it's him, isn't it? what's he doing to you? is he treating you badly?"

you want to tell her yes, you want to fall into her arms and just cry. all you want is to spill all your feelings out right now, to scream and scream over and over again, but you can't. you didn't want chris' reputation to go down the gutter, you really didn't want anything bad to happen to him, even if he did treat you like garbage. even if he treated you like actual shit, you still wanted a happy life for him, he was the one person who showed you love. the first person who actually cared for you.

but, as the years went by, he just... chris just drifted away, he got too caught up into fame, money, and girls especially. girls who weren't you and girls that looked completely different, it was like you weren't even alive most of the time. he treated you like you weren't his girlfriend.

"no, it's not him," another sad smile, and your voice almost cracks as more bad thoughts come to mind, "it's never chris."

tara notices the subtle change of tone, and only then does she reach her free hand out to rest on your shoulder. the bar stools were close enough together that your knees touched, and tara only pulled you closer to her. when you were finally in her arms, you let out a shaky sigh.

then, she hears you whimper. and now you're full-on sobbing into her shoulder, tears streaking down your face as you cry quietly. your body trembles, and you feel as if you let your of your best friend, you'll fall and never be able to get back up.

her hand comes up behind your back, rubbing it in a comforting way as she coos gentle things into your ear, her other hand coming up to your hair and stroking your h/c locks softly, "i know, i know, babe. just let it out, i'm here, okay?"

tara can't help but frown at your saddened state, eyes shutting closed as she continues to comfort you. her lips part again, and you feel a sense of relief wash over you as the words leave her mouth, "you can stay with me for tonight, and for however long you need."

"give me a day or two to think of something clever,

to write myself a letter

to tell me what to do..."

the only sounds in the room are your gentle breathing, and the loud screaming of chris on the other end of the phone. your index finger is wedged between your teeth as you bite down on your nail nervously, your eyes darted around, not knowing where to stay as you listened in to your boyfriend.

"where the fuck were you last night, y/n?" chris tries to contain himself, and you can hear his footsteps pacing back and forth on the hardwood floors of your shared bedroom, "why didn't you come home, i—y/n, what were you doing and where are you right now?"

a shaky breath leaves your lips, and you finally let your hand swing back to the side of your body, gripping the phone tighter, "i'm at taras house, chris. i just—i'm gonna be honest, and please don't get mad—i just need a few days away from... you."

you hear chris scoff on the other end, and you begin to speak again before he starts to blow up, "well, not you, specifically," yes, it was indeed him specifically, "i just wanted to get out of the house for a little... maybe a day or two, and then i'll be back, okay?"

"i knew when i asked you to

be cool about what i was telling you,

you'd do the opposite of what you said you'd do..."

you both knew chris wouldn't care, he didn't give a single fuck if you weren't around, but for more than 24 hours? that's where he drew the line because he knew that when you were around your sensible, smart friends, you would make bad good decisions. you would make decisions that would effect yours and his relationship, and he didn't want that because he needed to have somebody under his control.

he hated the idea of having no control. even if it was only one person her could control, he still had it, he still had somebody wrapped around his finger that he could get to do whatever he pleased.

"wha—y/n, what?" chris sighed, running a hand through his messy hair, "the fuck do you mean? you're coming home tonight, and if you don't i—"

"and i'd end up more afraid..."

chris cut himself off as he began to think. he shouldn't worry about you. fuck your friends, he would always find a way to get you back, so why was he begging you to get home?

a sigh was heard from behind the phone, and you raised an eyebrow in confusion, "nevermind, whatever, go fuck around. see you. bye."

then, the three beeps sounded in your ear. you scoffed, your heart aching at the fact that he didn't even he loved you. he always told you he loved you before he hung up... until a few months ago. you didn't know what went wrong, or where along the line something broke your bond. nothing happened that you could really remember.

"bye." you whispered, shutting your phone off and throwing it on the guest bed before you fell onto your back and landed on the silk sheets. a loud, exaggerated sigh left your lips as you dragged your hands down your face in frustration.

what was this boy doing to you? and why were you letting him do it? you didn't know how to answer the first question, but you had an idea for the second. maybe you liked the thrill.. or maybe you were just hanging on so tight you could never let go. if you let him go, the indentation of that metaphorical rope would still be there... and you'd have to live with the memory of chris. you could never live with yourself knowing you possibly hurt him.

"you clearly weren't aware that you made me miserable..."

but then again, if you let it go, the marks would fade soon, and then you wouldn't have anything to remember. it wouldn't be a constant reminder of chris and how he treated you. so, maybe you just had to let go and take your time to heal, hang around the right people or maybe even just take time for yourself.

a knock, and then two. you opened your eyes, sitting up and being met with the sight of tara leaning against the doorframe, "hey, can i come in?" you nod quickly, needing the distraction to get your mind off of chris.

you didn't even realize her moving closer until you felt the bed dip beside you, your head turning to meet taras eyes as you smiled softly. she returned the same smile, and then began to speak, "how are you feeling?"

no words came out of your mouth for a few moments as you tried to gather up all your emotions and try to put them into one word. but how could you if you were feeling almost all of them?

"i don't know." your voice was quiet, shy almost as you looked down at your lap. tara stayed quiet, letting you think for a moment as she stared at the side of your face, "i feel... angry, sad. gosh, i feel everything and i can't even fucking explain it, it's just so—"

a hand on your shoulder made you relax, and you stopped mid-sentence as tara rubbed your shoulder softly. your mouth shut, and you turned your head to look at her again, "you don't have to feel anything yet, y/n. i'm not gonna tell you to calm down because i would be livid if somebody said that to me, so, i'll just tell you this..."

"close your eyes and take deep breaths. take a moment to gather your thoughts, and then talk to me, okay?" her voice was gentle, quiet, and comforting. the mix of her touch made your entire body relax, and you smiled at her.

you nodded, turning your head back to face in front of you and then closing your eyes. inhale through your nose, count to 3, then exhale through your mouth. inhale, count to 3, exhale. over and over again until you were finally put back together, mostly. one final deep breath, and your eyes were open again. you turned back to your best friend, and she just smiled at you.

"i feel like shit, tar," your voice threatens to crack, but you don't let it, taking another deep breath before you begin to speak again, "this entire thing with chris... fuck, it's just so exhausting and it makes me feel horrible. i'm just chasing after him constantly, seeking his approval only to get disappointment and anger from him. it's like he doesn't even care about me, tara.."

you finally crack, and tears begin to well up in your eyes as you sniffle. tara frowns, squeezing your shoulder softly as she sees your state, "he doesn't deserve you, hon, seriously. i see the way you look at him, and he just gives you nothing in return. he treats you so horribly, i can't even—fuck. you just need to let him go, babe. and i know, it's gonna be so fucking hard at first, but you just have to push through that,"

"i'll be here the entire way through. you know i always have your back, even when you're in the wrong sometimes," you both chuckle at her small joke, "you deserve so much better than that dick, and i'm not just gonna sit here and watch from afar as he continues to break you down. you're gonna get through this, and i'm gonna make you forget he was even born."

you giggle at her choice of words, but you know what she's saying is right and that you need to listen to her, "okay."

tara smiles at you again, "okay. well, tomorrow we plan, and in the upcoming days we bring this fucker down."

your eyes widen and you put your palms up, shaking them in a protest, "woah, okay, we're not bringing anybody down, we're just getting me out of this hell-hole he put me in. is that clear?"

the shorter girl shrugs, a mischievous smile on her face, "same thing."

the phone buzzes on your nightstand, and you lean over to see who it is. chris' name pops up in bold letters at the top, his contact picture smiling brightly at you as he gives a thumbs up.

you came home just this morning, deciding that you would be fine to stay with chris for a little longer. you didn't want tara to deal with your shit. she didn't deserve to be wrapped up in this whole thing, and you didn't want to be seen a bad friend.

"hello?" you mutter, sitting back against the headboard as you cross your legs, preparing yourself for whatever stupid shit your boyfriend would say this time.

you didn't even know why he was calling. it was late at night, and he never called you. well, unless it was for a favor or something stupid. wasn't he supposed to be at a party with his "friends?"

chris giggles behind the phone, a dumb smile on his face as he stares at your through the screen. his hair is messy and his eyes are insanely red. was he seriously high right now? "hi—hey, y/n/n,"

"you call me again, drunk in your benz,

driving home under the influence..."

you gave him a smile, your eyebrow raising in confusion as you start to speak, but he cuts you off, "okay, i know what you're gonna ask, and don't worry, i'm calling you for—uh.. a good reason, mm'kay?"

"chris you're fucking high, don't lie to me." you sigh, squinting your eyes to see where he's at. it was dark, but you could make out that he was in his car. there was an open beer can in his cup holder, and only then did the realization hit you, "chris, what—christopher! what is that?"

the brunette looks down beside him, and he takes one hand off the wheel to grab the half-empty can, "it's beer, duh." he giggles, and you watch as he takes a sip of it before putting both hands back onto the steering wheel, "don't worry 'bout it, mamas."

"you scared me to death, but i'm wasting my breath,

'cause you only listen to your fucking friends..."

your eyes widen, and you furrow your eyebrows as a wave of—god knows what—washes over you, "chris, what the fuck do you mean 'don't worry about it?' you're driving drunk, you idiot!"

chris giggles at your outburst, eyes trained on the dark, empty streets of los angeles. he turns the wheel back and forth, driving a little over the speed limit just to get you on your toes. it works, and you swear you feel your heart stop. you don't even know what to say. you want to curse him out, gosh, you want to scream at the top of your fucking lungs but you know that'll only give him the satisfaction he wants.

how could you stay calm, though? he was pushing you so hard, you were bound to fall and break, "CHRIS! what the fuck—stop driving like you're fucking stupid, get off the road."

he doesn't listen, though, and you watch as he ponders his choices. he could either do what you say, continue to mess with you, or really test your patience. he smiles deviously and goes with the third option, "hm, there's a lot of mud over here, y'know?"

you don't even know how but your eyes widen more, breath catching as you squeeze your phone in your hands. your mouth is agape, and you feel tears prick in your eyes as his phone starts to shake. the car is moving faster now, and chris is grunting softly as he makes a wildly sharp turn, "chris!"

the phone falls to the passenger seat with a quiet thud, and chris screams loudly. you can't see him anymore. all you're met with is a black screen. a quiet sobs leaves your throat, and your eyes dart around the empty to screen for something, anything. did you just lose your boyfriend?

another cry, and now you're sobbing your heart out as you try to breathe properly. your free hand comes up to clutch the fabric of your shirt, trying to ground yourself as you make an effort to speak, "wha—no, no, no... chris?"

nothing but silence and the quiet hum of the car engine, not that you can hear it over the volume of your breathing. you can't even speak anymore, so shocked to the point that you freeze in fear. how were you gonna explain this to matt and chris? how were you gonna tell them that you could've stopped this from happening? how could you?

your heart aches, and your mind runs wild with all the questions that you'll have to answer. where is he? what happened? why did he do it? why weren't you there? why couldn't you help him? what the fuck is wrong with you? so many questions that you didn't have any answers for, "chris, please—i can't... fuck, i can't—"

laughing. he's laughing. wait, he's laughing? your eyes widen again, and you gasp, "oh my gosh, chris. chris oh my fucking—are you okay?"

he still laughs even as he grabs the phone, and as you finally see him, there's nothing wrong with the boy at all. there's no cuts, no broken glass or skin, no blood. you're grateful, but also confused. your mind wanders to endless possibilities, and you land on one you pray isn't true.

"oh my gosh, you should see your face right now!" he smiles, throwing his head back against the seat as he holds his stomach, "i got you so fucking good, hah! look at you, you're even crying."

and you were right. anger and disgust are clearly shown on your face now, and more tears begin to run down your cheeks, "what?"

why was this funny to him? was he seriously that fucked up to joke about literal death? chris just continues to cackle, "it's a prank, baby. now, calm down, don't start throwing a fit."

"i don't relate to you,

i don't relate to you, no."

you can't even describe how betrayed and angry you feel right now. maybe you were keen to the idea of bringing him down. no other girl should have to deal with his bullshit. you scoff, a bewildered smile on your face as you begin to speak.

"calm down? you're telling me to calm down, chris?" your smile fades as you continue, eyes darting all around his face through the phone screen, "you are so fucked up. you're brain is so fucked up, chris! what the hell is wrong with you?!"

chris just rolls his eyes, huffing quietly as he steps on the gas again. he tries shutting you out, but with how loud you're being, he really can't, "it's not even that big of a deal. not my fault you're always so sensitive, grow up!" he raises his voice, eyes on yours through the phone.

you couldn't believe this was the boy you once loved, screaming at you and telling you that you're the sensitive one, "i'm sensitive? you're getting mad at me for something you did, you asshole!" you yell, voice cracking at the end of your sentence.

chris groans, eyes squeezing shut as he slams on the breaks and punches the steering wheel several times. the horn beeps loudly, startling you for a quick second before you get used to it, "would you shut you're god damn mouth?! all you do is fucking cry and whine about everything!"

"yeah, i wonder why?" you scoff, not even giving him a chance to speak before you hang up the phone and let your hand fall to the side. you just want to throw the device at the wall, let all your anger out on something. on someone.

"'cause i'd never treat me this shitty.

you made me hate this city!"

"gosh, you are so insufferable!" chris yells, hands running through his hair before he tugs on it harshly. he turns his back to you, walking away a few steps before turning back, "what is your problem with me, y/n?"

your cross your arms over one another, letting your head tilt to the side as you take a step forward, "my problem is that you don't do shit for us, chris. you don't even try to keep our relationship running. i'm the only one who does, and you don't even care, do you?"

"you can't even look me in the eyes anymore. you aren't the boy i once knew, and i don't think you'll ever go back to him. you make me feel like shit every single day, chris!" you sigh, tears threatening to spill from your eyes again, "i can't do this anymore if you're not gonna love me like i love you. i'm not gonna deal with your problems anymore!"

chris stays silent, head pounding from all the stress and the alcohol he had earlier, "you'll come back."

you let your arms flail to the sides before coming up to rub at your temples, eyes fluttering shut as you sigh, "that. that's what makes me feel so... angry."

"you never listen! and you always think the odds will turn out in your favor, but they won't. that's not how life works, and we both know that. you just make it seem like you hate—" chris groans at your words, opening his mouth to speak, no, yell.

"like, i hate you? yeah, well, maybe i do, y/n!" chris' eyes are wide, and he looks like a rabid animal as he steps closer to you, "have you ever thought of that, or are you too in love to see it? god, i despise you!" it's not true, and he knows that. you know that.

"then why do you still call me baby and mamas? why do you even bother coming home each week and lying in bed next to me, huh?" a sigh leaves your trembling lips, and you finally look up at him, "you can act like you hate me, but you don't. you just want that power. you want me to come crawling back to you tomorrow."

"never told anyone anything bad.

'cause that shit's embarrassing, you were my everything

and all that you did was make me fucking sad!"

"don't waste my time, chris, i don't need you to come at me for something that isn't my fault. i'm over it!" you yell, and then you feel the rain.

it beats down on both you and chris as you stand in silence for a few moments, taking in the tense atmosphere as you stare chris down and he stares at the ground. he really was the pathetic one, and he had the audacity to call you that?

you can't even tell if the droplets running down your face are tears or just water from the rain, but you don't care about that, all you care about is getting an explanation from chris as to why he was doing all this to you.

he huffs, and then you begin to yell over the hard rainfall again, "so, why? why are you doing this to me, chris?! why even waste your own time on me when you could be fucking other girls?"

"you don't even need me, so why?" you cry out, clutching your now soaked t-shirt, "what's the point, huh?"

chris finally looks into your eyes, and now you can see his lower lip tremble and tears in his blue eyes, "because you're the only one who actually cares about me." it's fake. he's done this before, and now you're actually aware of how many times he's guilt-tripped you like this.

you shake your head, running a hand through your wet hair to get it out of your face. you weren't a kid anymore, and he should know better than not to try this stupid again, but he still does. the first time he did this, it resulted in shutting out both your mom and boy best friend, and then it continued. every other time this happened it always resulted in throwing someone out of your life, but not this time.

"don't try to make me feel sorry for you, chris!" you scream, and now you don't even care if the neighborhood hears. you needed to let these screams out or they would build up until you broke, resulting in you lashing out on someone, "gosh, i fucking hate you for doing this to me! you ruined me, christopher!"

chris looks down again, and now he feels the shame coming down on him, "fucking look at me!" but he doesn't, he keeps his head down and kicks a nearby rock.

you don't feel bad anymore because you know he deserves it. he lets you scream at him because he knows he deserves it. neither of you was in the right headspace in that moment, but you both didn't care. chris would forget in a few days, and you wouldn't. how could you forget after 4 years of this?

the brunette takes a few steps forward, hands reaching out to cup your face, and you huff angrily. your hands are on his chest the moment he's in your face, and you shove him back harshly.

"you ruined everything good,

always said you were misunderstood,

made all my moments your own..."

"just fucking leave me alone!" you scream louder than before, and chris takes a step back with wide eyes. his eyes are finally making contact with yours, and he sees all of the emotions in them now.

the rain seems harder now, and chris wipes his face with the back of his hand as he steps back to his spot, staring at you from afar as he watches you breathe heavily and cry. you've been waiting to get those screams out, chris knew that well. he knew that he treated you poorly, but he... didn't care, actually. he had the world in his hands and he could replace you in an instant, so why did it hurt just that little bit?

tears are now running down his cheeks, and he sniffles as he looks away. he wasn't gonna let you see him when he was the most vulnerable. he couldn't. chris just sighed shakily as he looked back down at the ground again, tucking his hands into his soaked pockets.

you're still staring at him, and when you hear him chuckle quietly, you furrow your eyebrows. he walks away.

"yeah, go try to find someone better than me, bitch!" he yells over the rain and then jumps into his car, quickly backing out of the driveway and sleeping down the road.

you feel like you're suffocating as you watch him leave, and you swear your knees will give out if you don't move or do something. how could he leave after that? how could he leave after he told you that you were the only person who cared about him? if it was true, he wouldn't have left. if anything he said was true, he would've stayed and comforted you, he would've tried to bring this relationship back into the light. but he didn't because it was never true.

your lips parted, and you squeezed your eyes shut as you screamed again. your throat would definitely be sore in the morning, but who cared right now? you needed this, and you weren't gonna let it boil over until you took your anger out on someone who hadn't done anything. you didn't want to turn out like chris did.

@livialifesblog

[unoislazy]

I Am No Coward

(Part 2)

Mizu x Fem! Reader

Summary: You find out that your brothers wife cannot cook for shit.

————————————————————

You and Mikio hadn’t spoken since your last argument. It wasn’t much of an argument as much as it was you just yelling at him, but regardless you both hadn’t talked since. You said nothing to him any time he entered a room, you turned away and continued whatever activity or conversation you held before he entered.

Oh you were mad, beyond that even, but you tried your best not to let it show when around Mizu. Despite your anger towards Mikio you didn’t want it to affect how Mizu viewed him, if she even valued your opinion that much by this point. You helped her out with chores that Mikio had more or less just tossed on her, which were things that you had already been in charge of beforehand. You constantly told her there was no need for her to help, and that if you handled it before, you could handle it now, but she would always insist on helping.

So you let her.

It was coming close to sundown so you gathered up as many ingredients as you thought necessary and set them out to begin cooking. As you had set out your ingredients you had noticed someone enter the room through your peripheral vision. You turned a bit, not wanting to give the person your full attention or acknowledgement in case it had been Mikio, but you quickly realized that the person was actually Mizu. Now knowing this, you greeted the woman with a wide smile and beckoned her to join you.

“Would you like to help me prepare the food?” You asked as she knelt down beside you. She looked at all the ingredients you had set out with a confused look very evident on her face.

“I can try… but I’ve never actually cooked before.” She admitted, looking up from the food and towards you. Your smile never faltered, as you turned back to the now heated pot before you.

“We all have to start somewhere right? Here, why don’t you chop some of these.” You instructed, pushing some vegetables towards her and handing her the knife. You could see her eyes light up almost the instant she looked at the knife, happy to finally see something she knew how to properly use without help. She nodded at you before chopping to her heart's content. You on the other hand began to get the spices and other parts of the meal prepared before the vegetables.

You were nowhere near the level of a chef, you simply had to learn the hard way what worked with cooking and what didn’t. In the very beginning of your stay with Mikio, you fondly remember him taking at least some time out of his day to help teach you some basics to cooking. You wished you could somehow convince him to go back to the way he was, but you couldn’t change him and you knew that, and at this point you didn’t want Mizu to get hurt trying. She was his wife after all but you still felt awful sitting by and watching as he ignored all of her attempts to get on his good side.

On the bright side of everything, you truly enjoyed Mizu’s company and you made sure it was obvious to her. She always seemed so genuinely interested in everything you showed her how to do, from cleaning the stables, to cleaning the house, feeding the horses, and now even cooking. She was making an effort to adjust to this new life and she had not a single complaint about it. It had taken you a moment to get used to two other people being around all the time, but when it came to Mizu you welcomed it with open arms.

She was a lot more clumsy than one might initially believe her to be. The amount of times she had tripped or dropped a bucket while cleaning was enough to count on two hands. It seemed to you as if she wasn’t used to the apparel she now wore everyday which struck you as a bit odd, but you truly didn’t put any more thought into it. If anything, you found her slip ups pretty adorable for someone so tall and quiet.

“What do I do with them?” You heard Mizu ask, snapping you out of your thoughts almost immediately. You looked towards the dark haired women, quickly noticing the now entirely full plate. She had minced every single thing you had given her and it was clear that she was eagerly waiting for more.

“Oh, just set those aside for now. Here take this.” You instructed, handing her a small bowl of spices as you grabbed the stacked plate of vegetables.

“Just add a pinch into the pot while I try and find…” Your voice trailed off as you continued to search the area for your missing utensils. You could’ve sworn you had placed a ladle out along with the rest of your ingredients. You turned every which way, not seeing it anywhere as you placed the plate down and stood up. You looked back at Mizu who was holding a now empty bowl of spices, but this fact had gone completely unnoticed by you.

“You can add a few of those in, I just need to go and find a ladle.” You said, pointing at what Mizu needed to do next before walking off. Once you had quickly found the utensil you had needed you returned to the room to find Mizu now holding three barren spice containers. This time you indeed noticed.

Your eyes widened as you looked towards Mizu, then the pot, then back at Mizu who was just looking at you with a blank stare. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as you thought, there's a possibility she might’ve just added the right amount and… the rest just disappeared.

You knelt down near the pot, carefully stirring the soupy concoction with your new found ladle, and very carefully gave it a small sip.

Your face very quickly contorted into a sour grimace as you placed the ladle down. You noticed how Mizu’s blank stare very quickly turned to disappointment and you immediately felt horrible, despite the whole situation truly not being that big of a deal.

“I should’ve been more descriptive.” You reassured Mizu, she had told you she never cooked before so you probably should’ve taken more caution when instructing her.

“Is it fixable?” She asked, looking towards the plate of vegetables with a hopeful gaze.

“As much as I want to approve that idea, those aren’t going to fix this.” You joked, earning a bit of a pout from the woman. You snickered a bit at her reaction, before handing her some water. “This should dilute it a bit.” You offered, handing her the bowl. Just as she was about to pour the water in you stopped her, having thought of a harmless yet still annoying prank. You grabbed a separate bowl and poured some of the non-diluted soup in, then told Mizu to continue pouring the water in. She watched you set the bowl aside with pure confusion before adding more water.

“What’s that bowl for?” She asked, now putting the empty bowl down.

“Don’t worry about it. Now where are the vegetables?” You questioned, it wasn't exactly directed at Mizu, it was more or less just you speaking aloud. You both search around the very small area taken up by your cooking materials before you spotted them. You reached for them with haste but you hadn't realized that Mizu had too. She had managed to put her hand on the side of the plate before you had, so you ended up lightly grazing her hand with your own. You immediately retracted your hand, not wanting the moment to linger, but at the same time there was some part in you that did.

You very quickly just chalked it up to an intrusive thought, afterall you were not going to make moves on your brother's wife, you accidentally touched hands, it was nothing more than that, calm down.

So that's what you did, you retracted your hand and paid no mind to the action as if it had never happened before telling Mizu to throw the vegetables into the broth. She nodded, doing just as she was told, and dumped them in and as if by some miracle, the food began to smell really good, just the way it should.

While you both waited for the food to finish cooking, you thought it a good time to just talk to the woman.

“So… How are you and Mikio getting along?” You asked, turning to Mizu who was now blankly staring at her hands that were placed carefully on her lap. You could sense the inner turmoil on whether or not she should answer truthfully, so you decided to help her out a bit.

“If you wish to speak ill of my brother, trust me I won’t be mad.” You began to reassure her lightheartedly. “I guarantee that your complaints would equal mine.” You continued, earning an acknowledging smile from her.

“I don’t think he likes me all that much.” She admitted quietly as if she was ashamed to have said so. You looked towards her with a bit of pity evident in your gaze, not because you pitied her not being liked by Mikio, but because you pitied her for even valuing his opinion of her in the first place. You had to remind yourself, she is his wife now so it would only be natural for her to want him to at least show some approval of her. That only made his current treatment of her even more upsetting in your eyes.

“I’d say not to pay him any mind, he’s just a grouchy old man who doesn’t see potential in anything that wont get him back his honor.” You explained, sounding as if you were joking but you both knew you werent.

“Has he always been this way?” She asked, turning towards you a bit more to show her interest in your response. You smiled a bit, not looking up at her as you told her,

“No. He used to be very kind and patient, I’m sure you would’ve loved him had you met him before… but now? Ever since he lost his title he’s been so hellbent on regaining his honor that he truly doesn’t care about much else.” You rambled slightly, your hand balling into a fist a bit as you clutched onto the fabric of your clothes, trying not to let yourself get lost in the emotions of what was. As much as you missed the old Mikio, you knew even then he still had his flaws. You remembered vividly how he refused to teach you anything related to fighting, he claimed it was too dangerous but once you had argued it was more dangerous for you to not know how to defend yourself, he dropped the topic entirely and avoided you any time you would try and bring it up again.

That’s why you were so intrigued when you found out that Mizu was able to fight. You had hoped to one day work up the courage and ask her to teach you because you knew, especially by this point, your brother was in no position to change his mind. You figured now was not the best time to ask as you looked up to the woman whose brilliant blue eyes were staring back at you, a sympathetic expression on her face.

“Well, at least you know if you ever get tired of dealing with him, you can always come and find me.” You smiled at her, trying to cover up any negative feelings you might have let slip while thinking about your brother. You wanted her to get to know him for herself and make that decision on her own. The last thing Mizu needed was someone telling her how horrible her husband is, after she had just married him, that was sure to go south fast.

Mizu gave you a small smile before turning back to the boiling pot which definitely smelled like it was ready. Very eager to try her first guided attempt at cooking, Mizu began to pour out the soup mixture into different bowls.

You, however, had kept the bowl with leftover undiluted soup and purposefully placed it down where Mikio always sat.

It hadn't taken long for both Mikio and Mizu’s mother to join you two at the table, both of them just as eager to eat as you and Mizu were. Before you ate however, you made a point to Mikio that,

“Yours is a special recipe, I just wanted to try something different than usual.”

Making sure to keep any of the blame for the tastefully challenged meal off of Mizu. Both Mizu and Mikio looked towards you, the same lack of certainty spread across their faces as they looked towards Mikio’s bowl. It didn’t look too much different from the rest of the dishes, but the moment Mikio placed the bowl to his lips and took not even a full second of a taste, he knew what was wrong. His face scrunched just as yours had done when you originally tasted the extremely strong broth. He immediately placed the bowl down, trying to suppress the urge to cough or spit it out to not look bad in front of Mizu and her mother. You watched on in glee as he proceeded to make himself look like an idiot, all while he sent an unrelenting glare your way.

“I see you must have forgotten a few steps.” Mikio muttered through several coughs. You merely smiled, very cheekily one might add, at the man before commenting,

“I guess you’re just not strong enough to handle that taste.” You shrugged before sipping your own food, which evidently tasted much better than his. He knew you were trying to get under his skin, the worst part in his eyes, was that it was working. He knew you were upset, he knew you didn’t like the way he had been acting, but he also believed he knew what was for the best. He believed if he continued working everything would go back to the way it was and then you would no longer have a reason to be so petty towards him. He wasn’t ready to be swayed on his thinking, so he wouldn’t be.

The three of you ate in peace before Mikio fully placed his bowl down and stood up, claiming that he had more work to finish up before leaving the room in silence. Mizu looked towards the door the man had just walked out of. Her expression wasn’t easy to read but she definitely didn’t exactly seem sad that he had left. She then turned to you, gesturing to Mikio’s now abandoned plate and asked,

“What was that for?”

“Just… some sibling rivalry. Nothing really.” You answered. It wasn’t exactly a lie. In a way you were rivals but you just hadn’t realized how yet.

[wannabehockeygf]

prompt 7 with zegras? they're in a fwb relationship and she's all i have no feelings but then she's BLUSHING

Fuck it I love you - Trevor Zegras

“wish that you would hold me,

or just say that you were mine,

it’s killing me slowly.”

prompt #7: “Are you blushing?”

summary: pillow talk one morning turns more serious

word count: 2k

pairing: trevor zegras x fem! oc

warnings: refers to sex i suppose?

notes:

- thanks for requesting someone new! keep ‘em coming or i am absolutely totally fine with writing about ck9, bb6 or am34… wink wink nudge nudge

- i actually kept this one short someone give me a cookie

- also i fear… i love trevor and dixie together

- the d’amelio’s didn’t do shit!! leave them alone pls

- i can never tell green or blue eyes apart. as a brown eyed person I’m always so lost so I’m sorry if his eyes are actually blue

He’s got a nice face… need i say more?

***

“Good morning, baby,” a raspy voice comes from behind you. You had been staring at the wall prior, relishing in the way the warmth of his bare chest feels against your back although you’d never admit that out loud.

“I told you to stop calling me that, Trevor,” you sigh, squirming underneath the ticklish kisses he’s peppering on the sensitive skin on the back of your neck. You can basically hear his frown, but he recovers quickly, “Turn around, please.”

With a small groan, you turn your body, only to be met with Trevor’s face, the goofiest smile you had ever seen plastered onto it. When he sees you, he jokingly mocks your frown. “What’s got you in a mood?”

You pout, although something about the sparkle in those green puppy eyes softened your defenses. “I dunno, maybe it’s ‘cause you keep acting like we’re in a relationship when we’re not.”

“And I’ve told you,” he starts, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear, “That I’m happy to take you on a date. When you finally agree, that is.”

You roll your eyes, but the corners of your mouth betray you by twitching upward. His hand lingers on your cheek, his thumb tracing gentle circles that send shivers down your spine. “I don’t see why you’re so set on this,” you mutter, your voice barely above a whisper.

Trevor’s eyes search yours, the mischief replaced by a depth that makes your heart skip a beat. “Because you’re beautiful. And, you’ve got a great personality. What’s not to like?” he says softly, his breath warm against your face.

You break eye contact, staring at the spot where his collarbone meets his shoulder, the tan skin marred by a small scar. The silence stretches, filled only by the sound of your breathing and the distant hum of the city waking up outside.

“Are you blushing?” Trevor’s voice breaks through your thoughts, and you look back at him to meet that signature, toothy grin again. You hadn’t even realized it, but your cheeks were burning up by the second.

“Maybe it’s just hot in here,” you deflect, though you both know that’s a weak excuse. His grin widens, and he pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. His touch is gentle yet possessive, suffocating yet enamouring and it makes you want to either scream or kiss him.

“You’re adorable when you’re flustered,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. The sensation makes your heart race, and you can’t help but lean into him, your resolve wavering. The scent of his cologne mixed with the faintest hint of sweat fills your senses, intoxicating and familiar. So distinctly Trevor.

Nope. Not doing this.

You peel yourself away from him, swinging your legs over his bed and standing up, still completely naked although you didn’t care as you searched for your clothes on the carpeted floor of his bedroom. “Not gonna happen,” you remind him.

Trevor watches you with a bemused expression, his eyes following every movement as you gather your clothes. His gaze is so intense you can almost feel it tracing lines along your skin, making you suddenly acutely aware of your nakedness.

"Come on, you can't keep running from this forever," he says, his voice softer now, almost pleading. You pull on your shirt, the fabric feeling oddly constricting compared to the warmth of his bed. “You know, it’s okay to admit you like me,” he continues.

You snort, a futile attempt to mask the way your heart flutters at his words. “Like you? As if. You’re just convenient.”

Trevor chuckles, the sound deep and resonant, wrapping around you like the ghost of an embrace. "Convenient, huh?" he echoes, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. The sunlight streaming through the window catches on the sharp lines of his abs, the shadow of stubble on his jaw making him look effortlessly rugged.

You pull on your jeans, the denim scratching against your skin, a stark contrast to the softness you left behind in the bed. "Yeah, convenient," you mutter, though your voice lacks the conviction you hope for.

Trevor stands, padding over to you with the quiet grace of a predator. "You can't fool me," he murmurs, his breath warm against your temple as he leans in, his fingers brushing a stray hair behind your ear. The touch is so gentle, so intimate, it makes your breath catch. "I see the way you look at me."

You swallow hard, the lump in your throat almost painful. "You're imagining things," you insist, but even to your own ears, the words sound hollow. “Put some fucking pants on. I don’t need to stare at your dick while trying to get out of here.” You add on, grabbing your shoes, the leather cool and stiff under your fingers, and sit on the edge of the bed to pull them on.

Trevor laughs, the sound vibrating through the room, low and teasing. “Fine, fine,” he says, lifting his hands in surrender. He grabs a pair of boxers from the dresser, slipping them on with a casualness that somehow makes him even more alluring. The fabric clings to his lean frame, outlining the muscles you know all too well.

You focus on tying your shoelaces, but your fingers tremble, betraying your inner turmoil. Trevor moves closer, his presence a magnetic force you can’t ignore. “You coming tonight?” He questions, casually.

“To the bar?” You snap back, your voice coming out more venomous than you meant it, “Maybe. Depends how shitty work is.”

Trevor’s brows furrow as he runs a hand through his messy mop of dirty blond hair, “No, to the game. My game.”

You force a nonchalant shrug, even as your heart thrums wildly in your chest. "I don’t know," you murmur, fiddling with the hem of your shirt. "Depends if I have nothing better to do."

He tilts his head, studying you with those piercing green eyes that seem to see straight through your facade. "Right," he says slowly, his voice a rich, low rumble that sends shivers down your spine. "Nothing better to do than watch me score goals and be amazing on the ice."

You can't help but snort, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "Your ego is suffocating, you know that?" you tease, trying to deflect the conversation away from the uncomfortable truth lurking beneath. The truth that maybe, just maybe, you find his confidence intoxicating, and his presence addictive.

Trevor steps closer, and the familiar scent of him—woodsy cologne mixed with a hint of morning musk—envelops you. It's a scent that always clings to your skin long after you've left his bed, a constant reminder of moments you pretend don't mean as much as they do. His fingers brush your cheek, gentle but insistent, as he tilts your face up to meet his gaze. "I want you there," he says, and there's a raw honesty in his voice that twists something deep inside you. "Not just because you're my friend or because of this...whatever we have. But because I like you, and I want you to see me. This is my job, you know.”

You can't deny the effect he has on you, the way his touch makes you shiver and his words make your heart skip a beat. But you're not ready to give in, to admit that this casual arrangement might mean more to you than you're willing to acknowledge.

You push away from him, grabbing your jacket from the chair in the corner. "You don't have to put on a show for me," you mutter, pulling the fabric over your shoulders. The leather is cool against your skin, a stark contrast to the warmth of his gaze. "I'm just... someone you fuck occasionally, remember?"

Trevor's eyes darken, the playful glint replaced by something more serious. He steps closer, closing the distance between you with a grace that feels predatory, his presence overwhelming. "You know it's more than that," he murmurs, his voice low and intense. His hand reaches out, fingers brushing against your jaw, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. "And if you don't, then maybe you're not as smart as I thought."

The sharpness of his words stings, and you flinch, though you quickly mask it with a defiant glare. "Don't flatter yourself," you snap, even as his touch sends a jolt of electricity through your body. "I'm just not interested in complicating things."

"Complicating things?" Trevor echoes, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. He leans in, his breath warm against your skin, and you feel the heat of his body so close to yours. "You think this is simple for me? Watching you walk away every time, pretending like I don't care when you're gone?"

You swallow hard, the lump in your throat growing with each word. You can't meet his eyes, can't face the raw vulnerability in them. "I never asked you to feel that way," you whisper, barely audible over the pounding of your heart. "I never promised you anything."

"Maybe not," he concedes, his voice softening. "But that doesn't change the fact that I do. And you can pretend all you want, but I see right through you." His fingers slide down your neck, hand cupping your throat gently as he rests his thumb on your lower lip. "I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention, the way you relax when we’re alone, the way you blush when I say something nice. You’re not fooling anyone, least of all yourself."

You pull away, the intensity of his words too much to bear. You need to escape, to put distance between you and the truth he's forcing you to confront. "I have to go," you say, your voice trembling. You turn toward the door, your steps hurried as if you can outrun the emotions threatening to overwhelm you.

But Trevor isn't done. He grabs your wrist, his grip firm yet gentle, pulling you back to face him. The look in his eyes is fierce, determined, as if he's finally decided to lay all his cards on the table. "Running away isn't going to change anything," he says, his voice steady. "You can pretend this is just a fling, that you don't feel anything for me, but I know better. And deep down, so do you."

You close your eyes, the sincerity in his voice breaking through your defenses. It's terrifying, the thought of letting him in, of opening yourself up to the possibility of being hurt. But it's also exhilarating, the idea of finally allowing yourself to feel, to love, to be loved in return.

When you open your eyes again, Trevor is still there, watching you with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken. He leans in, his lips brushing against yours in the softest, most tentative kiss, as if he's giving you the choice to pull away.

But you don't. Instead, you kiss him back, your hands tangling in his hair as you pull him closer. The kiss deepens, and it's like everything else fades away—the fear, the uncertainty, the walls you've built around your heart. It's just you and him, and the raw, undeniable connection between you.

When you finally pull apart, you're both breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. "Okay," you whisper, your voice shaky but filled with a newfound determination. "Okay, I'll come to your game. But don't expect me to cheer."

Trevor chuckles, the sound rich and warm, and you can feel the smile spreading across his face. "I'll take what I can get," he says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "And who knows? Maybe I'll score a hat trick just for you."

[its-freaking-jordan]

Friend told me to write a smut. MIND YOU IM NOT GOOD AT THESE BUT ENJOYYYNSFW! Please no minors and I tried to make this Gender Neutral

“Remind me why, you brought me out here?” You asked Karaku, looking over to him from the side of you eyes. You both were walking out into the forest at broad midnight. There was a cold breeze, which neither of you mind. You walked past a few villages, it felt like hours of walking the two of you did. “Aww~ Don’t be like that Toots, I just wanted to bring you out here! Plus its been a while since we both hung out!~” The demon said. He looked over to you with the same sly grin he always have on his face. After a while you both made it to a complete stop at a hot spring. You would be lying if you said it didn’t look nice. There was a small waterfall too, with a cherry blossom tree, with fog. You looked and admired the place with all its glory. “This is surprisingly nice.” You thought you would never admit. “Told you it would be nice Toots!~ Why would I ever bring you out to an ugly place hm?~” He asked in a teasing way, not really expecting you to answer back. You just chuckled followed along with you shrugging your shoulders. Moments later you both were found in the water, letting your bodies relax in the water was exactly what you both needed. You closed your eyes followed with a long sigh. Karaku seemed to shoot you a few glances, which you caught onto, yet he didn’t realize. “Alright..What’s u-UP!?-” You suddenly let out a loud gasp. You haven’t realized that Karaku was under the water and between your legs. You felt you body shudder when you felt something glide across your inner thigh. A shaky sigh left your lips, looking down into the water, you see Karaku with the same grin on his face. His hands had a grip on yours, pinning them to the side of your waist, so you wouldn’t squirm as much. He came above the water, with your hands still in his grip. “Make sure to not make as much sounds..But I must say this is a open hot spring so anyone could come in at anytime and see you…by the way…I wouldn’t care in the slightest if we get caught, but if you do…Don’t. Make. A. Sound.” Your eyes slightly widened at what he said. ‘Shit!’ You cursed at yourself under your breath. He let out a cocky laugh before he stuck his tongue out. He winked at you and went back underwater. Heat was pooled between your legs as he kissed and bit on your thighs. You bit your lip, anxiously as you watched him get closer and closer to your hole(Gender neutral) He did small kitten licks on your hole, as your arousal coat gets on his tongue. He brought his face onto you and started to devour you at a quick pace. You let out a audible moan, right before you jumped from his sudden movements. He pressed his tongue further into you, causing you to arch your back and have your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Fuck,” You whined out as you looked down at him. He felt you clench around his tongue which caused his smile to grow even more, knowing that he can please just by his tongue alone. He dug his hand into one of your thighs, spreading them out more so he has a better view and to keep yourself open for him. His nails dug into your soft/rough skin, drawing blood. You both heard someone, your face was completely red, as you heard the voice or voices getting closer. You then looked down at Karaku hoping that he would stop, but god was not with you, he just kept going, getting rough by the minute. You tried to hold back the sounds that were going to come out. “I told ya Sekido! I heard Karaku talking about wanting to come here!” Urogi (Joy) has basically shouted. Aizetsu (Sarrow) soon followed in behind, lastly then Sekido(Anger) came in. Aizetsu looked around then spotted you in the hot springs. “Maybe (Name) knows where Karaku went?” He said, catching the attention of the other 2, pointing in the direction you were at. You wished that you could just die right then and there, they were the LAST people you wish that would show up. You whined quietly as you heard their footsteps approaching louder by the second, you turned around and saw them, a slight smile was on your face.

Karaku pushed a finger inside of you and started thrusting it as he circled his tongue on your hole. Sekido looked at you with a cocked eyebrow. “Karaku, have you seen him anywhere?” He asked almost annoyed of the fact that he had to ask. “U-UHm~ N..No I didn’t see hiMm…” You tried your best not to moan out loud, especially in front of them. You covered up the moans with a cough. Ugori raised his eyebrow at you. Aizetsu just stared at you, he stared to be a little worried. “(Name)..are you alright…you face is red..” He pointed out the obvious, Sekido just tched, as he had his arms crossed. You furiously nodded your head. “Im F-Innee..Just thought to stay in here for a long time would be n-NIcee..” You slurred out the last word, closing your legs around Karaku neck, bringing him further to you. “Hmm..”Sekido said..he didn’t believe but took your word for it. “If you see Karaku let him know that we are looking for him, got it?” He asked and walked out with the two others right behind him. Once they were both gone you let out a few groans. You became a whimpering mess, feeling a knot in your stomach, you squeezed the sides of his head. He then removed his tongue from your hole. A long whine escaped from your mouth.”Karaku Please~..” He smiled again as he let your hands go, your hands were now free, he came above the water and placed you on top of the rocks with your legs above his shoulders, as he went back down on you. You couldn’t control the noises that came out of your mouth, your hand reaching for his head, you eventually found it and had a grip of his hair in your hand.

You tugged on it slightly which caused him to let out a low moan. You were now grinding on his face which caused him to chuckle. “Look at you fucking my face like this. I find it amusing really…for a slut.” His words were dirty, but followed along with desire hinted behind them. He honestly could’ve made you stop fucking his face, but enjoyed it too much. He loves it when he’s buried between your legs and on your sex, and tasting you. He pushed his tongue even deeper into you if that was possible which caused you to scream out his name. You felt the same knot in your stomach, and it matter of seconds it snapped. Your entire body shuddered and you had your climax on him, he didn’t mind the mess you made, it found it pretty in his demonic eyes. He pulled away from you, releasing your legs from his grasp. Your legs were shaking slightly and felt weak. “I sure did enjoy my time with ya Toots..” He held you in his arms, placing you on his lap, cleaning you, giving you kisses on your neck, and leaving love bites. You were panting heavily as you let him deal with the aftercare. You did enjoy your time with him even tho it was short but boy, did you wish it could last forever.

[peachhcs]

sharks development camp

hughes!sister x will smith au (samy + will)

a blurb of macklin talking to will about samy and their breakup while at the sharks development camp.

i got inspired from that one post i saw where will and macklin are roommates at the dev camp, so i produced this short little snippet. it's actually kind of cutie because will's being like an older brother in a way :)

au masterlist

the two boys practically collapsed onto their beds as soon as they were back in the room. the few days they'd been in san jose were extremely fun, but also very exhausting. they were on the ice from sun up to sun down basically, so breaks were far and few between.

at least it was good for getting a full night's sleep because all the boys were out by the time the day finished. will rolled onto his side, reaching for his phone he stuffed into his backpack that was a little bit more than an arm's length away from him at the moment. he stretched a little bit farther and was able to wrap his fingers around the device in the side pocket.

he scanned down the list of notifications for anything important. there were a few texts from his mom and the family group chat, but other than that, things were pretty quiet on will's phone. it'd become a lot quieter now that there was no multiple messages from samy.

will didn't want to admit to himself that he missed seeing her name on his screen with about 10 different messages from her in the time he was at practice.

"can i ask you a bit of a..personal question?" macklin's voice broke will from his thoughts. the older boy rolled to the side macklin was on who stared up at the ceiling.

"what?"

"you're not a virgin, are you?" well, that definitely was a personal question. will's expression twisted for a second before shaking his head.

"uh..yeah, no. i'm not," shit. every. single. conversation. led will right back to samy. at least he didn't spiral this time unlike last time back at the combine where he pretty much made himself look super pathetic.

"okay, sorry. that was like..weird and personal. i don't know. i feel like every person i've talked to isn't and it makes me feel weird sometimes because like..i haven't done.." macklin trailed off realizing this was a weird conversation topic.

"no, it's fine. i get it. i was the same too for a long time," the blonde said and he felt like he was being some older brother right now.

"really?"

"yeah, i didn't like..actually do anything until i was 18," will said almost in embarrassment, but he knew that wasn't anything to be embarrassed about.

"oh. wow. was it like..a hookup or like.." macklin kept asking which will didn't mind. he kind of wished he had someone like himself when he was 16, 17, 18 to talk about all of this. none of his friends really talked about it a whole lot, or they did but it was always in a weird, gross way.

"no, it was with my ex girlfriend," will flinched saying ex girlfriend. it felt so weird calling samy that.

"wait, ex girlfriend?" macklin sat up, confusion on his features.

the blonde's face flushed a little, "oh, i guess we haven't really told people. uh, samy and i broke up."

he watched the brunette's eyes widen in shock, "you broke up? when?"

"like..early june?"

"wait, why? i thought you two were like..oh my god, is that why samy like avoided you when you came over and talked to us at the draft?" macklin's eyes widened in realization.

"yeah..basically. i don't know. i..i kind of realize it was a shitty decision on my part, but i don't really know how to fix it," the older boy admitted, sitting up some.

"did something happen? like what happened?"

"nothing bad..i just..i freaked a bit when i signed on last month. i think i got into my head a little too much and i made the decision without talking it out before i did. she won't talk to me really, though so i can't talk to her," will shrugged, a frown on his lips.

"oh, wow. i'm sorry. i didn't know," the brunette frowned too.

"don't worry. it's my fault and i kind of deserve being avoided."

"maybe i can talk to her? she kind of took beckett and i under her wing at the draft, so maybe we can talk her up," macklin laughed a little.

"no, it's fine. i'll see her anyway at our family vacation, so maybe i can..talk to her or something," will waved the boy off.

"well, if it's any consolation, i think she'd take you back if she heard you out. from what i knew, you guys really cared about each other," macklin shrugged a bit.

"thanks, i appreciate that," will managed a small smile.

the two started getting into talking about something else, but samy lingered on will's mind for the rest of the night. when macklin fell asleep will seriously thought about reaching out to her. his finger hovered above the send button and he deleted and retyped a bunch of messages, but he ultimately decided he shouldn't because why would she even want hear from him anyway?

[user2772636]

Douzième Fille

12th girl

××《☆》××

××《☆》××

A new task; Kidnap some frogs and a film to get an hour study session with the Annick Sabiani. Things are still unstable with Joseph. Maybe Callum could help. Your fear of hopping creatures makes a boy forget what went wrong.

===

Joseph Descamps x Reader

Warning: frogs (whoevers scared of them), swearing, boys being boys, angst

Also, yes, I do know harry potter, I was in both that and the marauders fandom (esp marauders)

===

===

Chapter six: Mischief Managed

===

"Sophia Loren is so beautiful." We look up at a movie poster, stating that only eighteen above can watch.

"What about Brigitte Bardot?"

"My mother says she's vulgar."

"Apparently, we can sneak in through the back door." Simone points towards the cinema.

"How do you know that?" I ask her, curious.

"A boy told me." It's definitely Jean Pierre.

"Is it Eugène?" Oh, Michèle.

"No, it wasn't." Simone shakes her head, and she's basically telling the truth.

We turn a corner. "You think I'll meet him someday?" Michèle asks Simone. I glance at the dark haired girl, worry spreading in me.

"Who?"

"Eugène."

"I don't know."

I stay quiet, a one-eyed boy in the back of my mind.

××《☆》××

Students enter through Voltaire High's gates and head inside the building.

I sit in the very front of my class, tapping a pencil against the table, anxiously waiting for my score.

"Pardine, 10." I sigh in relief, scanning the paper.

Frogs croak loudly throughout the room, making me shiver in fear. Small, slimy, hopping creatures were not my thing.

"And finally, Miss Sabiani, 12." Laubrac claps his hands, followed by the class. Annick has been glowing, much more social and vibrant. Good for her, comparing her old self to now.

I look back at my score, sighing. I could've done better. Could've gotten a twelve like Annick. I clench my jaw, disappointed.

Then, for the first time of many times today, a paper plane lands on my table. I furrow my brows, turning around to see who could've done it. None of them look suspicious, but Joseph looks nice. Too nice. And he's wearing green.

I turn back around, not knowing if I was flushed because of anger or because of him. Probably both. Annoyingly, both.

"Tomorrow, we'll all be dissecting frogs." My stomach reacts badly, making me gag silently.

Sure, frogs weren't my cup of tea, but dissecting them? I wouldn't even wish death on Joseph. Though, a part of me knows hatred isn't the reason for this.

I have noticed today that Joseph's been gloomy. He's off, and obviously not in a good way. His eyes that were once lit by its own sun dims down like when a storm approaches. And he's not smiling. I miss his smile.

No, I don't. I don't and won't miss anything. He hates me, and I guess I hate him, too. He decides to talk shit about me? The audacity of that man. I wish I could just grab his neck and strangle him and look at him and see his fucking pretty lips turn into a smile-

That god-awful smile. It ruined me. And I hate his smile. I hate it. I hate him.

××《☆》××

We're all gathered up in the courtyard, discussing our grades, when suddenly, boys started crowding near Annick. I overhear what they say.

"One hour with Annick!"

I furrow my eyebrows. One hour? That's what they're freaking out about? Well, it was Annick, and they were boys, so I guess I shouldn't be too confused.

"Hey, what's happening?" I walk up to Pichon, and he looks startled as he sees me.

"Annick is giving out an hour private lesson if someone steals the frogs and the film from English earlier for her." Pichon stutters out.

This morning, in English class, we watched a movie called "To Kill A Mockingbird", the film adaptation of the book. I guess Annick liked it so much that she wants someone to steal it for her.

In the corner of my eye, a tall blonde's wafting his arms in the air. I had a sudden question.

"Hey, do you have any idea why Applebaum stopped talking to me? I know it was from long ago, but I sometimes wonder what happened." Pichon pales, and my brows pinch together.

"You know how Applebaum's glasses went missing?"

I nod, remembering the day at the gym.

"Well, that was Descamps. After that, he came up to us and threatened Applebaum's eye if he went to talk to you again. Applebaum whined for hours to us after that. He said he lost his chance at the only girl who's ever given him one."

I chuckle absentmindedly, shocked at the new information. Then, I turn angry.

"Descamps, did that? Why? Why would he want Applebaum away from me?" Pichon scans my face, trying to see if I'm serious or not.

"You really don't know?" I shrug, suddenly embarrassed. Pichon scoffs. "He's in love with you, that's why. Even when he looked like he hated you, from how I saw it, he was so in love it turned him into a mad man. I always caught him looking at you or being near you, even if it was a hundred feet away. Wherever you were, he was, too." It's my turn to scoff.

"He doesn't love me. He hates me. I caught him in the halls, talking about me to his friends and saying I was too clingy." My heart shatters in my chest as I recall that moment.

"Wait. How could he say you were clingy?"

"We've hung out the past few days. He's stayed the night the day before I heard him call me that."

"What? You let him stay the night?"

"Yes? What's wrong with that? We're friends. Or atleast we were."

"Oh my god, no offence, but how could you be so daft? You love him, too!" Pichon says a little too loudly, making the courtyard glance at us before returning to their own conversations.

"I don't! Now keep your voice down, or I'll rip them off." I whisper-shout at him.

"You even talk like him." I roll my eyes at his conclusion.

"Anyways, don't be delusional. He doesn't love me, actually, quite the opposite, and I don't love him. That's that." There's a lace of disappointment in my voice, but I cover it up with a stiff face.

Pichon raises both his hands in mock surrender. "Whatever you say." He walks away, a smile dancing on his lips. I scoff.

He doesn't know what the hell he's talking about.

××《☆》××

I lean against the wall facing Michèle as we wait for Simone in the toilet.

"So?" Michèle calls out to the door.

"Yes, it's my period." The door opens, and Simone walks out. She closes the door.

"Is there a stain on your skirt?" Simone checks.

"No. But my underwear's ruined. The rest is fine. I put toilet paper" I notice how messy she looked. I comb her hair out with my fingers. She grabs her things from Michèle.

"You should go to the nurse, Simone." I tell her, worried.

"Yeah, my aunt will have pads." Michèle interjects.

"No, I'll be fine." I puff out my cheeks at her stubbornness, but dismiss it.

We start to walk, but after only a few steps, Simone clutches on her stomach.

"You definitely need to go to the nurse." She shakes her head.

"You poor thing." Michèle says as we continue to walk.

Once we make it out the door to the courtyard, Pichon pops out of nowhere. I squint at him, still pressed about earliers conversation. He just smiles at me.

"Michèle." He says. "Can I ask you a favour?"

"Sure." Michèle responds, walking down the steps with us.

"Do you know where your uncle keeps his keys? There must be spares. Y/N needs them, too." I raise my eyebrows in surprise at the bold question. Then I remember the Annick situation. I nod along.

A voice butts in. "Hey, are you nuts?" It's Dupin. "Don't involve the dean's niece." He's leaning against the wall with his hand on it, legs crossed. "She's gonna snitch."

"What's he talking about?" Simone asks.

"Oh no, not again." Pichon looks between us and Dupin then walks away. I look at him confused.

Michèle walks down to Dupin. "You think I'm a suck up because I'm the dean's niece?"

"Yes." I know that voice all too well. I look at Joseph, and we lock eyes. I scan his face. Nothing's changed much, but it feels like something did. He glares at me then stares baack at Michèle.

"Let's go, guys." Simone says, walking down the steps. Michèle follows, but I stay.

"I heard about what you told Pichon and Applebaum." I walk the down the steps, looking up at his towering figure. He glances at Dupin and his friend, nodding them to go somewhere else. They follow.

"What about it?" He tilts his head at me, hand in his pockets.

"Why are you threatening Applebaum's eye if he looks at me?" His jaw clenches.

He pauses. "Why not?"

"Why not?" I chuckle half heartedly. "Why not?"

"Did I stutter?" Wow, since when did he have sass?

"You're an asshole, okay? First, you talk shit about me to your friends, talk shit about my friends, then I'm now just finding out you threatened Applebaum?" I raise my eyebrows at this, disappointment seething through my teeth.

"Well, that's just life, isn't it?" What the fuck is wrong with him?

"What the fuck do you even mean? We were so close, Jo- Descamps. We were friends, didn't you think?" I stutter at saying his name, embarrassment coating my cheeks.

"Back to last name basis?" There's disappointment in his tone, but I somehow catch his eye glancing down at my lips. I flush more.

"Yeah. Why not?" I mock his words, jutting my head forward.

"Alright, Pardine. If that's what you want." He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. He's starting to piss me off.

"I didn't fucking want us to stop being friends. We had to because, for some reason, it's only now that I remembered you're an asshole."

"Whatever." He scoffs out.

"Fine." I stepped closer. I already feel his warmth.

"Fine." He steps closer. He smells the same. I wish things were still the same.

"Fuck you." That's the last thing I say before walking away, feeling his stare on my back.

××《☆》××

"Stealing Herman's frogs and Couret's movie? Did Annick cast a spell on them?" I exclaim, raising my arms. Michèle and Simone follow behind me.

"And Dupin calling me a snitch. I may be the dean's niece, but I'm no rat." Michèle says over my shoulder. I nod in agreement.

I glance at Simone, seeing her clutching her stomach. "You okay?"

"I'm fine." She answers simply, face grimacing.

"You should I ask my aunt to write you a note and go home." Michèle says as she rubs Simone's arm.

"You think?" Me and Michèle nod.

"Okay. I have to go to the bathroom. It's soaked already." I nod again and lead Simone to the bathroom door.

"Michèle." I stop in my heels as Simone turns to Michèle. "You should steal the frogs. That'll shut them up." We continue to walk.

I lead Simone down the staircase, her one hand gripping mine and the other on the rails.

"Are you okay, Ms. Palladino?" Ms. Couret says, looking up at the both of us.

Simone talks to Ms. Couret and I excuse myself. Before I leave, Simone looks at me, glancing at Ms. Couret. I remember the film then nod at Simone. She nods back. I go all the way down the stairs, going out to the courtyard and on my way to the gate.

This morning, Callum called. He told me he had some news. When I asked why he chose lunch time to tell me, all he said was it was so important that he wanted to tell me face to face, and as soon as he was on his lunch break. So, naturally, I agreed.

I see the Thunderbird from a distance, its colour eye catching. A tall frame with messy brown curls exits the car, making his way to me, a bouquet of flowers in hand.

"Good afternoon, beautiful." I roll my eyes at the name, smiling. He simply chuckles. I walk out the gate. He hands me the bouquet.

"What is it?" I ask, implying the news he wanted to tell me.

"Not even a hello? I'm hurt." I stick my tongue out to him. "Anyways, how do you feel about Paris?" My ears perk up at the mention of the city.

"Paris? I miss the place. Why do you ask?" My heart beats in excitement, not knowing what to expect.

"Well, the people loved you so much. The company that released the magazine contacted me to get to you." I raise my eyebrows as he pauses. He furrows his.

"You don't get it? They want you in Paris by summer because they want you to model! Like, professionally." My eyes blow wide open and I gape in surprise. My mouth open and closes, not knowing what to say.

"Callum." I stutter out. "Please don't lie."

"I'm not." Tears rim my eyes, and I blink them away.

"I swear Callum if you're lying-"

"I'm not! I swear on my life." He laughs, his breath blowing on my face.

"Fuck, Callum." I give him a hug, wrapping my arms around his torso, gripping him to stay upright, my mind unable to grasp whether this was real or not.

He wraps his arms around my shoulders, rubbing my back and kissing my hair. "You deserve this. I'm so proud of you."

I pull away from his chest, dried streams of quiet tears on my face. Callum still wipes them away.

"Let me take you out tonight." My heart sort of drops. I can't, I tell myself. Why can't I? Then, a one-eyed boy is in my mind again. Oh. I grip my bouquet.

"Sure." Joseph wouldn't care. I then realised that he probably never did. Whatever, it's fine. But really, it isn't. I shouldn't be thinking about him, I should be thinking about the fact people want me to model for real.

But I can't help it. There's a boy in front of me, a modelling opportunity, and a dinner to look out for tonight, but all I can think about is him.

Him and his ash coloured hair, eyes that change colour in the light, smile that makes my heart clentch in my chest, and his lips. His beautiful, plump, pink lips.

Then I look up at Callum, and he looks at me the way Joseph once did. And I crumble internally, realising how much this beautiful boy will break when he finds out how I feel about someone else.

Joseph never loved me. I don't think he did. I felt used, hurt, and betrayed after what I witnessed. And what's funny is the fact that after that incident, that's when I realised I loved him. I love him.

I love Callum, too. But the way I feel for Joseph, it's different. And it's too bad I realised I loved him and that he hated me too late. I can't help but love him anyway.

That's the thing with love, though. When you realise you feel it, you can't let go. The way it feels is so different, you're too scared to let it go because you don't know when or if you'll ever feel it again.

"I'll pick you up at 6?"

A pause.

"Sure."

××《���》××

My footsteps echo through the halls, too loud, in my opinion. I follow Michèle, her eyes glancing at me from time to time. I guard the door as she walks in and grabs both of the needed keys.

She gives me my set, whispers good luck, and walks to her room. I part to mine.

I quickly unlock the room and close it behind me, a quiet click sounding around the empty class. The film was situated at the table, leaning against some books. It looked like it was meant to be stolen.

Then I hear footsteps shuffling outside. I get under the table, trying to figure out the noise. It was too flat to be heels, and it was too heavy to be a woman. It sounded like thudding than clicking. Then the door opens, and I see brown oxfords. I know those oxfords. They've been in my flat before.

I get up from my spot, accidentally hitting my head on the edge of the table. Hard.

"Shit, Y/N. Are you okay?" Descamps sprints over to me, hands cupping my head and inspecting the hit area.

"It's Pardine to you, Descamps. And no, do I look okay?" I push his hands away, fixing my hair and dress. I look up at him, and he's already looking at me.

"What now?" I groan, crossing my arms. Descamps raises his brows, crossing his arms, too.

"You think you're the only one who wants to get the film?" He bends down to reach my height. I flush at the proximity.

"I certainly was here first."

"Well, too fucking bad, because I have it now." He snatches the film of the table. I grunt, trying to grab it. He lifts it over his head, stretching his arm. He's smiling. How much I hate that smile.

"Fuck you, Descamps." I push him off, making my way to the door. There's footsteps outside again. I stumble backwards.

"Go, go, go!" I nudge Descamps to the table, planning to get under it again. Our knees push against each other as we try to fit in the small area. A couple of swears and names were silently thrown around but were silenced when the door opened slowly.

I held my breath as Descamps did. I absentmindedly grip his calf, and his hand was gripping mine. In other circumstances, he'd be whispering reassurances in my ear, holding me close with his arms, and kissing my head 'till I calmed down.

This wasn't one of those circumstances.

After a while, there was a snore. I furrow my eyebrows. Snoring? I slowly come out of the nook, not before Descamps pulls me back down and asks me what I'm doing. I shush him, going back up slowly. His hand is still gripping mine. It feels the same as it did all those other times.

I make it to the edge of the table, and across the room, one of the janitors was sitting on a class chair, snoring the afternoon away.

I sigh in relief, coming back down to Descamps. He raises his brows at me.

"So?"

"He's dead asleep."

"Do we stay here 'till he leaves?" I think about it for a moment.

"I guess. It'd be too risky to leave. The door's too loud."

"Fuck. I guess I'm stuck here with you." He rolls his eye. The audacity.

"Hey, I'm not the one talking shit about my friend." He scowls at me.

"Well, I'm not the one who's fucking assuming."

We argue whisper shouting.

"I saw you! And I heard you!"

"You don't know why I was saying that!"

"I know exactly why! You hate me!" That makes him shut up.

"What?"

"You hate me, Descamps."

"Why would you even think that?" There's a tone I can't tell. Like he's hurt, or in disbelief, or in denial.

"Because you're-" He cuts me off.

"Why would I ever hate you?" He squints at me a bit, voice wavering.

"You-" He cuts me off again.

"I could never hate you." Tears brim my eyes at his words. I look at him quietly.

"Stop lying, Descamps." My voice breaks.

"I-" He sighs, looking down at his lap.

I sniffle, wiping my nose. I turn around, back against his clamped legs. And he stays still. We've done this before. Except my back was against his chest, and he was combing my hair with his fingers.

"And Annick." I feel him tense.

"What about her?" I scoff in disbelief.

"You're doing this for her, right?" I turn my head, not really looking at him.

"What? Oh, no, of course not. I was here because Pichon told me, or really I made him tell me that you-" His voice gets cut off and I furrow my eyebrows in confusion.

"That I what?" I urge him to continue. Incoherent noises come from the back of his throat, stuttering against his teeth. He sighs, wiping his palms on the cloth of his knees.

"That you were coming here." It comes out as a mumble, and I almost didn't hear it from the way my heart was thumping and blocking my hearing.

"Why would you care?" There's a pause again, and it's suffocating.

"So that I'll know how easy it'll be to get it before you do." I snap my head forward, looking at the blank wood of the table.

A few seconds pass by. I hear his voice again.

"What about you? Why do you want an hour with Annick?" I keep my head straight this time while talking.

"I need to keep up with her." I shrug simply.

"Why? You're already doing so well in class." I flush at the compliment, but shake my head.

"Well, I could do better." I sigh deeply, seemingly annoyed at the question. I still want him talking to me, though.

"I mean, sure, but isn't it draining?" My hearing blurs for a second at the question.

"Of course it is." I keep my answer plain, but my voice breaks. I hear his heavy breathing.

"You know that I know how much you study. Even if we're... not so close as we were before, I still think you should take a break."

A memory comes to mind. I lean over my books on my bed, writing notes on the pages. Feet thumping against wood floors doesn't break my focus, but a hand caressing my back does. I still remembered the way he whispered against my ear, telling me to take a break. The way he cupped my hand to stop it from writing. The way that the bed dipped as he sat down and wrapped his arms around my waist. How much I missed those nights.

"You know, I used to fake studying so you could come close." I blurt out, not caring what I say anymore.

He doesn't respond immediately. "Yeah?" I hum in response.

"I used to make every excuse to come close." I shiver at the confession, wishing I could turn back time to every moment he came close and held me.

"It's too bad you're an asshole." He chuckles.

"Really is too bad."

I guess that was where the conversation ended, though I'm not sure, but after a while, we hear the janitor get up and leave. I slowly come out of the hiding spot, dusting my dress again.

Before I leave the room, a hand grabs my wrist. I don't turn around, but suddenly, my hands clasp a rectangular object. Descamps drops my hand and leaves.

When the door closes, I just stare at it. Then, I raise my hand. The film was in it.

××《☆》××

I walk with Pichon to the alley, watching familiar faces look at us. I avoid Descamps' gaze, focusing on Michèle and smiling at her.

"There they are!" One of them calls out.

"So?"

"We've got them." Pichon answers, dropping the bag. I hand the film to Annick, leaning into her ear.

"Descamps did it. Give him the hour." I purse my lips, then walk away from her. She turns her head to Descamps, and I'm too scared to see if she looks at him the way I used to. Well, really, I still do.

I walk to Michèle, smiling at her. Then I look at Applebaum.

He hasn't changed much, and when he catches me staring, he turns as red as his name and looks away. I laugh a little, then start to feel bad about the fact that Descamps had threatened him. I'll talk to him about it later.

We all lean and look at Pichon as he opens the pouch, frogs hopping out of it. I yelp, trying to get away from them.

"It only took five minutes?" Dupin asks.

"He's smarter than all of you." Laubrac answers.

"Can't wait to see Herman's face."

They start to grab the frogs and chase each other with it. Dupin lifts it up to my face, and I yelp, running away.

Strong arms lift me off the ground, the familiar scent of cigarettes and expensive cologne fill my senses.

"Come on, go chase Felbec or something. Not her." Dupin nods and runs elsewhere.

He gently places me on the ground again, cupping my face.

"You okay?" He whispers. I nod.

"Don't talk to Applebaum. I saw you looking at him. I know you know that I threatened him, it's only because he's a fucking weirdo and you know it. Please." He reads me too well. I nod again.

"Thanks. Now go home." He pulls his hands away, grabbing another cigarette.

I stumble backwards, walking away fully.

Almost halfway home, I remember leaving something. It was a tie I accidentally dropped when Descamps lifted me off the ground. It was pretty special, so I went back for it.

Turning to the now golden lit alley, my feet stutter to a stop when I see Descamps against the wall, some girl from school splayed over him, her hand on his chest and lips close to his.

The garbage rattles and their heads turn to me. I make a run for it, leaving the tie to be forgotten.

I should've known. He never loved me. He always hated me. Since when were they even hanging out? What if they were together the whole time? I gag at the thought.

I hate him. I hate him so much. But I don't.

Fuck, this hurts.

××《☆》××

End- Chapter six: Mischief Managed

Next- Chapter seven: Salvatore

××《☆》××

So that took SUCH A LONG TIME. Um very angsty good or very angsty bad? Idk if I spell checked or grammar checked this well, so if u see smth, dm me PLS

Also for the F1 fans, ik im late w news, but 1-2 ferrari, carlos pole after appendix got removed, ferrari and mclaren top 4 domination, hamilton and verstappen dnf, george flipping over on the middle of the track, and fernando alonso getting p1 for a few minutes. Austrailia GP will always be wild.

HAPPY READING!!! 6/10 CHAPTERS DONE