#BUT she wasn’t opposed to bending them every once in a while
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Alright since I keep seeing people comment “Oh they messed up Tophs character, she’d never become a cop!”
Really? She’d never be a cop?
The girl who trained Aang like a drill sergeant
The girl who created a whole school just so she could boss people around
She’d NEVER BE A COP????
Did Toph hate following the rules? Yes.
Did she love enforcing her rules onto others? Yes.
Starting her own police force was the best way for her to show off her bending AND tell people what to do. All she heard was “You’ll be in charge” and she went for it.
And the funniest part is she STILL DOESNT FOLLOW THE RULES! Her daughter is caught with some gang and she just rips up the report and moves on
#she was probably doing sneaky stuff all the time#walked around commandeering anything she liked#i mean who was gonna stop her????#it may not be what people wanted to hear but it does make sense for her character#and Im sure she did respect the job and it’s rules over the years#BUT she wasn’t opposed to bending them every once in a while#hehe get it?#avatar#toph beifong
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Fluffy ideas u ask? What about robby and Reader finding out they're gonna have another baby?
Omg what if it's like that myth where if your first baby is always on their head looking between their legs it means they're looking for their sibling? Have you heard that before? It's super cute, so what I'd their lil girl starts toddling around just to stop and bends over and looks between her legs and someone says something about the myth and it makes Reader take a test and would ya know it she's pregnant with baby keene #2
(Unedited) (Miguel and Robby are friends but Miguel still likes to poke fun, Diaz Triplets, Miguel and Reader are tired parents.)
A play date was always something g Reader looked forward to. When her and Robby’s daughter finally started talking and walking things got active very quickly in their household. The little girl who once could barely fit in both hands was now everywhere. Anything she would do or get her hands on was fair game. Reader hated having to keep her in one spot for too long as the girl was a ball of energy. Secretly she wondered who she had inhabited all the energy from.
So when the Diaz triplets decided to make a appearance at their home for a much needed playdate, she wasn’t oppose at all. She was quick to usher the newly walking baby’s in along with Miguel. Little feet pounded though the entryway before getting to the living room where they cried out in happiness. All of the kids were so happy to get to play with each other.
Miguel and Reader where honestly just happy to get to sit dow with another adult that day. Being a parent was hard. Being around your kids constantly could sometimes get to you. A nice break every now and again was good.
That’s what landed the two to the two adult sitting on the couch slumped. Both of them were tired from the long day of child-rearing.
“So you have her potty trained already? We are still trying to get the triplets done. The girls are doing great but…” he cut himself off while looking at his son. Reader laughed a little saying “Don’t worry to much about it! I heard girls are a lot easier to potty train than boys, plus, dude you have THREE to potty train all at once. I don’t think it was going to be all that easy anyway. Just keep at it and he will catch on at some point.” Miguel ran a hand though his curls and sighed. His eyes rolled a little as he watched the kids play on the floor.
The triplets where only about two months older then the Keene girl. They where only a little bit ahead of her by a little bit. Most of what they where still leading she was too. All of them where walking and talking by now. Well the triplets where, Reader’s daughter was still trying to talk. She was starting to try and form words full but she was getting there. Miguel and she watched as they messed around with some blocks on the floor for a while, laughing and trying to talk to each other the best they could.
Slowly the Keene girl got up onto her feet with the help of the coffee table. She tried to walk a little bit towards one of the twin girls. Her little legs bubbling a bit before making her way over to the other girl who was smiling at her. She started laughing, seconds later she was bending over and looking though her chubby little legs. Her eyes sparkling as she looked at her her mama. Gummy smile with a few new teeth showing through her lips as she started giggling.
“So how long has she been doing that?” Miguel pointed at the little girl. His eyes lazily looking at her. Reader hummed while cocking her head towards her daughter “That? About a week now. I have no idea why she keeps doing it. She won’t do it to Robby, just me.”
“You should probably get checked out then.”
Reader’s head whipped around to stare at him. Her eyes wide with worry “You think it could be something serious? I really don’t think it’s anything serious. Nothing else seems to be going on-“
“I mean you, you should get checked out or get a pregnancy test.” He snickers at her expression. Reader feels herself go red hot in the face. She taps him on the shoulder hissing “Why would you say that?! What does me possibly being pregnant have to do with her being a odd little toddler.” She huffs. He surges at her saying “My mom always tells me that when a toddler does that, it usually means your pregnant again. It’s like this old wives tale that if your toddler lookers though their legs then they are looking for their sibling. If they don’t have one then it’s thought that you're pregnant.” Soon enough the girl stops and goes back to playing with her friends.
Reader watches with a small smile. The idea of being pregnant again had never crossed her mind. Her and Robby never really talked about having another child just yet. Getting pregnant the first time was a complete shock. They didn’t want to make it sound so bad in passing but their daughter was both a miracle and an accident. They had narrowed it down once she was pregnant.
Reader forgot her birth control just once on the same week that a condom they used broke. It felt almost like a one-in-a-million kind of thing. They would be the ones to get pregnant from a small accident. They were both scared out of their minds but after a while everything fell into place. It wasn't as if they didn't want kids, they both did but having their daughter so soon into their marriage was a lot for them both to handle.
Both of them had issues in their childhood which made them more cautious about the idea of children. It took a lot out of both of them to even wrap their heads around having their little girl.
“Robby really trying to put another in you so soon?” he wiggled his brows making Reader grimace.
“Can we please not talk about what me and Robby do in our own bedroom right now.”
“Um okay but if you really do have a chance of having a bun in the oven, you might want to let him know.” he rolls his eyes before relaxing back into the soft cushions.
Reader chewed at her lip as she turned her attention back to the kids. Eyes focused on her little girl again. She was currently hugging one of the Diaz girls while playing a toddler version of tag. Her light green eyes were full of glee as she tapped one of the other toddlers and took off to the other end of the room. Her little feet took her to the other side of the room, the other kids following behind her. She seemed so happy to be playing with the other toddlers.
Readers mind started to wonder.
Was it possible?
Could she really be pregnant again, even after being so careful?
(Might make a second part to finish this.💖)
#sensei venus speaks#cobra kai#cobra kai blog#cobra kai ask blog#cobra kai headcanons#cobra kai imagine#cobra kai blurbs#robby keene headcanons#robby keene fluff#robby headcanons#robby keene imagine#robby x reader#cobra kai robby#robby keene#robby keene x reader#robby keene x chubby reader#dad!robby#mom!reader
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saw your post asking for smutty stuff, so here goes nothing:
diluc headcannons on how he would punish his brat girlfriend? she's been teasing and defying him all shift, and he doesn't think he can keep himself together any longer. when diluc punishes, we know he's not opposed to sadism - we all saw what he did to that cryo abyss mage. there's a hidden corner in the tavern he likes to sit at on his break, and right now... well... he's just aching and yearning to shove her head down his throbbing cock, facefucking her until her voice is hoarse. but does it end there? of course not, we all know how dedicated diluc is. he'll tease her back afterwards, but double the amount she teased him. triple, even. tease her tenfold.
i'd love a fic of this, if you'd be so willing to indulge me :)
Hell ya I totally see this
Your an absolute genius I applaud you
Note: Afab reader
Also this a lil long I got carried away 😔
God damn would be punish you it’d be delicious you’d be begging for more punishment and teasing him for the next week
You always tease him it’s practically your job other then serving drinks at the bar
Your cute little uniform skirt that you rolled up so you ass hangs out bounces at every little step you take
Dilucs eyes are trained on you and you only not even looking at the filthy men who who ask him for a drink to give you
His anger only grows when he notices Kaeya smirking and teasing him as well
When You finally round the counter Diluc grabs your wrist and angrily whispers
“What the bell are you doing showing your ass off? Keep this little game of your up and I’ll won’t wait till the bar closes to punish you..”
God how badly you want him to just bend you over his knee right now in front of everyone and punish you
Looks like you will have to keep playing this game
After another 10 minutes of your little game diluc threw the rag he was cleaning the glasses with and waved off the other bartender that he was going on break
On his way to the second floor Diluc grabbed your wrist and pulled you up the stairs
Good thing he kept the upstairs empty tonight, he even had the mercy of pulling you into the farthest corner to hide
Diluc roughly slammed you into on the tables, flipped up your skimpy skirt and frowned at the sight of your bare ass
“No underwear? My, my you were waiting for me to punish you, hm dear? Well I won’t be so merciful tonight. You can count on it.”
He roughly smacked you ass, you groaned at the pain but not without a whimper
Diluc kept his knee under your cunt, every slap you were given came with a hop of his knee
“Starr counting, mess up once and we start over, understand? You’ll learn that being a brat doesn’t get you anywhere”
The rag he had tossed over he shoulder was now gently placed under your chin, how sweet of him to still think of your comfort even while being punished.
After a good 20 minutes, long since he break was over, you were a sobbing mess, being denied orgasm after orgasm and slap after slap
The muscled man sat on the chair and pulled you between his meaty thighs
“Undo my belt baby, comon, your gonna suck me off”
He rested his cheek against his hand, the sight was so beautiful, his legs spread wide open just for you and was just truly a sight for sore eyes when you pulled his pants to his ankles
“Spit, spit on it baby, ah! Good girl” you obediently listened to him and suckled on his red bulbous tip
It wasn’t long before he gripped your hair tightly and tugged you down on his entire length
Red hair now messy and his beautiful baby hair now sweaty and stuck with red strands of hair
He occasionally threw his head back when you hollowed your cheeks and sucked like your life depended on it
“Hah!haaaah just like that! Good girlll good fucking g-girl..!” A breathy chuckle escaped his swollen lips from him biting them to keep himself quiet.
Drool dripped of your lips and onto his manhood and gurgles and chocked sobs left your mouth as well
Diluc readjusted his grip on your head and started quickly thrusting into your mouth
His hot and heavy tip kissing the back of your throat deliciously before his thick seed entered your mouth
Some dropped off your lips and onto the floor when he pulled out of your mouth, he smiled down at you and smirked at your teary puppy eyes
“Atta girl…”
It’s long I apologize but I hope you guys like it!!!
#belovedluc#diluc drabbles#diluc imagines#diluc smut#diluc x reader#diluc ragnvindr#diluc#diluc fluff#diluc x y/n#genshin smut#diluc ragnivindr x you#diluc ragnivindr smut#diluc ravgnvindr#genshin impact smut#genshin impact
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Chapter 2 : No quarter.
Enjoy ! (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ
Erina had managed to follow them while remaining discreet. As far as she could see, they had taken refuge in the old underground galleries of the old quarter, ingenious. These galleries were several kilometres long and had been occupied by the former partisans during the first conflicts in the Slavic Republic. The whole area had been sealed off, with troops watching and patrolling every corner to find and arrest insurgents. She pulled out her mobile phone when she heard the beep of it, as she brought the device close to her ear she recognised Svetlana's voice: "So, anything new?"
"I've spotted Ivan, he's hiding in the underground galleries. It'll take me a while to find him but I'll get there, he can't have gone far, the whole area is sealed off."
"Good, I knew I could count on you. You have the authority to shoot anyone who opposes you. We have to stop this madness."
"Copy that. I will contact you once Ivan is eliminated," concluded Erina.
She didn't wait for an answer and cut the call, putting her phone back in her jacket pocket. An announcement went off: "Anti-terrorist raid in progress, civilians should avoid going out as much as possible. If you notice any suspicious persons, please inform the deployed patrols. I repeat, anti-terrorist raid in progress…”
The announcement continued to loop for several minutes, flooding the streets. Threatening, thick clouds had slowly taken over the sky, accentuating the sinister side of the situation. A country plunged into terror, as if the sky was also going to war. Erina looked up at the ominous clouds above her head, the rain began to fall little by little. At first in a slow and irregular rhythm before the downpour fully took hold. The soldiers she passed did not question her, warned of her mission on the ground, personally deployed by the president. As she crouched over a manhole, an explosion and gunshots were heard in a nearby building. A squad had been in the area a few minutes earlier, something must have caught their attention. She had to hurry and try to get them from behind, as long as the soldiers created a diversion.
She began to descend the iron ladder and slid down until she felt the ground beneath her feet. She took her torch and drew her weapon, aiming ahead to illuminate the area. A huge shaft lay in front of her, at the end of which she could see another access to the galleries. As she ventured into the huge shaft, she tried to walk at a snail's pace, her feet wading through the stale water. The smell was nauseating and completely filled the place, her balaclava wasn’t enough to stop the odours. More shots rang out again, to the east of her position. She stopped short and held her breath, listening for any sound or movement she might hear. But nothing.
Erina began to wander through the galleries, the further she went, the more of them there were, going in different directions. After several long minutes of looking around, she heard voices further away, a fight must have been going on. She stood against the wall, bending slightly to quickly scan the room. On a table on the left was a bloody corpse with an axe stuck in its chest, all around were logs covered with sheets and in the middle of the room were three other corpses. These two men who were talking were probably the cause of this mess. In fact, they were jamming more than they were talking. She could take advantage of that. She came out of hiding and aimed at them, her finger firmly on the trigger. She had permission to shoot anyone who got in her way, but she had to question them first.
"What the hell?!" said the blond guy. He was rushing towards her, machine gun in hand. He wanted to cross her with the weapon but she easily disarmed him, sending a knee blow to his stomach.
Erina had been specially trained by Svetlana Belikova, still an army instructor. Her fighting methods were impressive and the young woman knew how to use her fists perfectly, she did not hold back her strength, she was very agile. While the blond man collapsed to the ground grunting in pain, the other did not hesitate to attack her too, sending a kick that she could barely dodge. A fight began between the two individuals and Erina quickly understood that this man had undergone special training, he mastered his knife to perfection but she still managed to disarm him. With difficulty, though. Her movements caused her balaclava to fall off, revealing her face. At the same time, he tackled her against the wall, she dropped the knife at the violence of the gesture, he put his arm against her neck to prevent her from moving and he leaned his head to the side. He seemed to examine her for a few seconds: "Funny way to ask me for my number."
She stared at him for a few seconds before spreading his arm and tackling him against the wall, the barrel of her weapon pressed against his chest. He winced at her move: "That's cheating.”
Erina analysed him for a moment, she finally recognised him. The flickering light bulb that poorly illuminated the three people nevertheless allowed her to see his face clearly. He was the man from the underground car park who had been captured by Ivan. An overtrained man, too talented to be a simple partisan. She noticed out of the corner of her eye that the man who was on the ground earlier had gotten up and she didn't hesitate for a second to aim her gun at his head, "One move and I'll shoot."
"Who the fuck are you?!" the blond asked, pissed-off.
#resident evil#romance#resident evil fanfiction#leon x oc#leon scott kennedy#leon s kennedy#resident evil leon#resident evil damnation#original character#fanfiction#leon kennedy#re4make
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Feral Animal
Pairing: Alpha! Kentarou Kyoutani x Omega! Reader
Genre: Fluff
Request: Hi! I love your abo blog! I was wondering if you could write about Alpha!Kyotani with an Omega!Reader, where their first encounter catches everyone by surprise? Like, Reader has a traditionally alpha scent (like burning/smokey wood) and can usually get away with being mistaken as an alpha at first glance? It’s fine if you’re asks are full or you don’t want to do this but thanks for your time 😊 —Sno
Summary: You just wanted to get the boys to practice on time. You weren’t prepared to deal with this. Good thing you had a gaurdian angel- or should we say, dog.
Author’s Note: I love Kyoutani so much. Like he’s in my top three people I simp for.
Requests: Open!
Kentarou Kyoutani
➵ No one gathered in your way when walked down the hall. You smelt strong enough to put them on edge.
➵ Peoples hackles were constantly raised when you were around, and truthfully, you didn’t know why.
➵ You were still you. You were still an omega.
➵ You still ached to reach out for touch, to scent someone, to just have the smallest bit of attention from anyone that wasn’t Iwaizumi.
➵ You and he had met when you were young, and he took to being your personal guardian—since he was a year older than you.
➵ You were thankful for him and his friendship, but that was all it would ever be. You both tried dating in your first year of middle school (Dating being a loose term), but it was obvious you were better off as friends.
➵ You both still hung out constantly though, and eventually he grew to be an older brother to you.
➵ When you got to high school though, you quickly realized that with Iwaizumi came Oikawa. You had known him just as you had known Iwaizumi, but the other male seemed to keep his distance from you.
➵ It didn’t take a genius to figure out why he was keeping his distance with you. When you and Iwaizumi explained to him there was nothing between the two of you, nor would there ever be, he calmed down.
➵ The fellow omega (Oikawa is an omega ass bottom change my mind. Unless it comes to requests. Then he’s an alpha for you :D) grew to be close with you as well and if one or the other was being idiotic you stepped in as the shoulder to cry on.
➵ You were happy for them, truly, but you knew sooner or later you were going to be out of the picture.
➵ They were third years, and you were a second year. They had a relationship that ran deeper than any thing you could offer them.
➵ And that was okay.
➵ Facing the obvious, it’s clear that, because your best friends are those two dorks, you’re into volleyball. Or in the very least, know of it and how to play. Because of this, you’re elected manager.
➵ No more choice.
➵ You don’t fawn over Oikawa constantly, you can handle Iwaizumi’s outbursts, you were calm with the first years, and you don’t put up with any fan girl’s bullshit.
➵ You didn’t get the chance to refuse honestly.
➵ “I’m sorry, but unfortunately, Oikawa-Senpai is busy at the moment- “
➵ “Please, just- Let me see him! I won’t be long!” The Alpha pleaded, trying to appease to your sense of empathy. Unfortunately for her, that was dried up before the second girl even looked at you to ask the very same thing.
➵ You were tired of girls, obviously not getting the hint, trying to confess their undying love to Oikawa every other day. How did they not see he was an Omega?
➵ Yeah, he had suppressants out the wahzoo but, good golly, his mannerisms were all Omega.
➵ Apparently this alpha though her and Oikawa would be the ultimate power couple.
➵ “Like I said before, he is busy. Any time you take up is time wasted.” You snorted, turning tail and shutting the gym door, ignoring the screech of anger behind it. You were used to it.
➵ Most times you locked them out, they’d throw a bitch-fit, turn and bad-mouth you to their friends for a few days.
➵ They’d tease you for your scent—which was a, frankly lovely, pinewood and amber scent—and poke fun at you, saying how ‘you’ll never get an alpha smelling stronger than them” with a sneer. You’ve learned to ignore those types of girls.
➵ What you didn’t expect however, was for her to scream some more, banging on the metal door.
➵ It was ripped open in your moment of shock, making you turn on your heel to face her.
➵ Her hair, though still relatively upkept, was frizzy with fly-a way’s running out occasionally, but her eyes were what scared you.
➵ They were constricted to ball point bulbs that were locked onto you, fangs poking out as she snarled at you.
➵ Of course. Because why wouldn’t a feral Alpha be part of your day today?
➵ You growled yourself, trying to reign in your scent but it was getting harder and harder as she stalked closer.
➵ No one else was in the gym, as they were changing in the club room, but you figured you could handle her.
➵ You hoped at least.
➵ She tried pouncing on you, your arms quickly crossing in front of your face to shield yourself, but instead of an angry alpha trying to claw your eyes out, you merely got a gust of wind.
➵ Peeking open an eye—you couldn’t recall closing them, but whatever—you frowned at the face staring back at you.
➵ You hadn’t talked to him, personally, but you knew who he was. Kentarou Kyoutani.
➵ He was incredibly strong, a worthy advisory, and worst of all…
➵ A ticking time-bomb of an alpha.
➵ He had the resting bitch face to end all resting bitch faces, and the attitude to go with it. He had only said one word to you ever and it was ‘move’. His voice was gruff and angry when he said it, but his eyes softened when you looked up at him.
➵ He waited patiently for you to gather your things before moving. That was the first, and what you thought, last time you’d ever see the alpha. He entranced you though, so you wouldn’t ever necessarily be opposed to seeing him again.
➵ Just maybe not in this circumstance.
➵ Kyoutani held the alpha by the collar of her shirt, his lips poked up in a snarl with his canines gleaming dangerously in the sunlight
➵ . Contrary to popular belief, he’d only ever gone feral once in his life. His stepfather, an awful, awful, excuse for an alpha had raised a hand to his Mama.
➵ He refused to let anyone ever raise a hand to omega that day and stuck to his grits with it.
➵ Many people often feared him because of his careful eye and quick reflexes.
➵ They claimed he was close to going feral because they never cared to admit they were planning on hurting someone. He didn’t care.
➵ At least he didn’t. When he saw you simply turn and close the gym door, he felt his heart skip a beat.
➵ Maybe it was just the fact that you didn’t relent, or maybe it was the fact that you didn’t care or bend or submiss in the absolute slightest, or maybe it was the waft of the most calming scent he’s ever smelt before.
➵ He knew the other alpha’s scent, as she had practically reeked all over him while asking him for things Oikawa liked before he snapped on her, so this was all you. And he…liked it.
➵ He hated scents that were too sweet or too ‘exciting’ in a way, but this? This was calming and euphoric all in one and he wanted to straight up bathe in it. It smelt that good.
➵ He watched the alpha screech, stomping her foot—he could guess she was the very definition of daddy’s girl with her reaction to being told ‘no’—and before he could growl at her to leave, she was forcing open the door and snarling.
➵ So, he dropped his bag and ran to make sure you were okay. His alpha pawing at him to hurry up.
➵ He had felt the very same as they day he ran his stepfather out of his life, but this time…This time, he would be sure not to go feral. That would scare you and he couldn’t, wouldn’t risk that.
➵ When he got there, the alpha lunged and he had barely enough time to grab her. You looked shocked to see him, or maybe it was residue from when she broke into the gym, but you didn’t say anything.
➵ He took that as a good sign, turning tail and dragging her to where he dropped his bag. He grabbed it quickly, instead dropping her and rushing back to the gym.
➵ You closed the door behind him, Iwaizumi and Matsukawa quickly locking it. In the time, between Kyoutani dragging out the feral alpha you had the chance to text Iwaizumi, sending choppy and shaky, but succinct, messages to let him know what was going on.
➵ The rest of the team were on their way anyway, so they merely hurried their steps. When they turned to lock the door, you stopped them, crying for them to just wait for a minute.
➵ Kyoutani had run in seconds after your plea and the door was quickly shut.
➵ Scents were going insane in the gym, but his was most discernible to you. He smelt scared.
➵ Before anyone had a chance to mention it though, he was turning to you and reaching for your face.
➵ you flinched but that didn’t stop him. His fingers were gentle, more so than you could expect from him, and he was so soft while turning your face to observe the damage. Iwaizumi tried to get close, but he was growled at as you were held to Kyoutani’s chest.
➵ The team could only watch, flabbergasted, as you were hugged and scented by their mad dog. Even more so when you began laughing and purring, placing your hands around his neck.
➵ You whispered something (They were ‘Thank you’ and appreciation whispers) into his ear, making his shoulders visibly relax. No one could really understand what had happened, but they weren’t sure if they wanted to question it just yet.
➵ Well, most of team didn’t at least.
➵ “Aw, Mad dog-Chan! How do you know our little Chibi-chan?” Oikawa laughed, leaning off Iwaizumi as he spun a volleyball on his pointer finger.
➵ Kyoutani grunted, abruptly pulling away, only to growl and pull you back when his alpha snarled. “Don’t.”
➵ “Wait- wait, wait. Hold on.” Hanamaki snorted, holding his hands up. “So you, Mad dog, most vicious alpha this side of the equator, just decided fuck it, and chose to not only save an omega you’ve never met, but then hog her? I don’t know, Mattsun, seems kind of sus to me.”
➵ “Very sus.” Matsukawa agreed, snickering. He yelped however, when Kyoutani turned to snarl at him, only for you to hold him back. Matsukawa had never felt more scared for his life in that very moment, and he owed you a whole ass chapel.
➵ It stayed like that for the rest of the practice, with you calming Kyoutani down ever time he needed a ‘time out’ and over time he got much better at controlling his anger.
➵ No one was surprised when you walked in two weeks later, a small, thin leather choker clipped on around your neck with a hand-made moon charm hanging from it.
#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu#alpha/beta/omega#alpha/beta/omega AU#alpha/beta/omega verse#A/B/O verse#a/b/o haikyuu#haikyuu omegaverse#custard writes#kyoutani x reader#kentarou x reader#alpha Kyoutani x reader#Alpha Kyoutani x omega reader#Alpha Kentarou Kyoutani x Omega Reader#kentarou Kyoutani x omega reader#kyoutani x you#maddog x reader#i'm so tired#but i loved this so much
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one of the reasons i dislike the writing for world tour is that it bends over backwards for the sake of alejandro and heather. team amazon doesn’t have to face an actual elimination ceremony until gwen kisses duncan which is insanely overpowered! they go through half the season without losing a single team member! and it’s all because heather would be the first one voted off on principle because she’s heather. the thing is, they didn’t have to do that. they could’ve had cody trying to ally with heather and gwen to get sierra kicked off, or heather purposefully sowing discord to turn courtney and gwen against each other before duncan got brought back. that team dynamic could’ve been more interesting if they were actually at risk of elimination. and heather could’ve exercised more skill and power if she really had to work not to get voted off once that was a possibility, it would’ve added to her character, but the writers took the easy way out.
similar things happen with alejandro. the only elimination his team has before duncan returns is izzy, and that’s due to injury. and to be fair, noah did get voted off in the episode duncan came back, but the writers structured the first half of the season so that teams chris and amazon barely took any hits. alejandro is well liked in the beginning, so why didn’t team chris have any eliminations earlier on? maybe izzy’s craziness could’ve botched a challenge for them, maybe alejandro schemes against noah and owen because those two are besties and that’s practically an alliance. also, noah’s suspicion of alejandro is what got him booted off, but that’s shown in literally one line before the episode of his elimination! other than that, they’re fairly friendly, so what if we saw more hints to noah not trusting alejandro but not acting on it? team chris had such an odd yet great combination of people that could’ve lended to an interesting (and let’s be real, zany) dynamic but besides a few funny moments/interactions, they honestly fell pretty flat to me
and then there’s team victory. poor team victory. so much of what kept season one fresh is that a different team would be on the chopping block almost every other challenge. because things were so structured to keep alejandro and heather in the game, it became clear early on in the season that teams amazon and chris would always take first and second (usually respectively) and that team victory would lose. and again, this was to make alejandro look like this big bad guy for getting an entire team booted. which maybe could’ve worked well if the writing was better, but it wasn’t! it felt so out of character to see bridgette, who was clearly in a relationship with geoff, cared for him, and got angry when he looked at/called other girls pretty, immediately fall for a guy and become completely unable to communicate her relationship status to him. not only that, but she kissed him by accident and then willingly went in for another kiss?? huh?? and then leshawna, who doesn’t trust easily (especially those who aren’t on her side) but had a newfound friendship with heather, who immediately ignored heather’s warnings to the point of attacking her when egged on by a handsome guy on the opposing team who kept flirting with her??
that was painful to watch, especially because it’s clear that these female characters were just being used as a way to bring alejandro up. you know how they could’ve done that? having him mess with people to turn teammates and friends against one another. orchestrating some eliminations on team amazon as well, or when team chris loses, manipulating his other teammates to vote out someone he doesn’t like. him doing that while heather fights to keep her place in the amazons and take him down, possibly allying with sierra who was also immediately suspicious of alejandro, would’ve been so much more compelling. what if alejandro had swayed team victory to his side so that they worked together to beat team amazons in challenges, forcing them to face elimination and heather to work to not get voted off? what if the distrust heather sowed between courtney and gwen came to a boil before duncan came back, and then he was thrown into a mess heather created? what if cody took alejandro’s side because sierra was on heather’s? what if noah and leshawna pretended to be friendly with alejandro to lull him into a false sense of security while they actually suspected the guy, but didn’t trust heather enough to directly side with her? while i do believe that heather vs. alejandro is one of the best finales in total drama, the leadup to it was heavily structured in their favor to the point where the overall story of the season greatly suffered
#didnt expect to write a fucking essay when i started this but oop here we are#dont even get me STARTED on how pointless blaineleys appearance was#could a lot have been done with her on the aftermath? yes!#did she need to compete for 2 episodes and then immediately get eliminated? no!#literally what was the point of that besides the shock value of her winning the second chance challenge#geoff cohosting with her should've realized that she was what he was becoming last season and lead to personal revelations or something#not the stupid bridgette kidnapping#total drama#total drama world tour#tdwt#td alejandro#td heather#team amazon#team chris#team victory#td
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This morning, I read an article titled “I went undercover in the sinister world of Meghan Markle hate accounts" posted to Refinery 29. The title gives the impression of a journalist disguising one’s self as a “Meghan Markle hater” for the sake of getting to the bottom of something. However, the content of the article is nothing like its title.
Before I go further, let me stress the importance of perspective. My post isn’t an attack on the article’s author. I’ve never even heard of the author before now, and I’ve no right or reason to attack a perfect stranger because I vehemently disagree with the content of their work. Making assumptions about someone solely on what they write is lazy and sloppy in my opinion. I may be lazy and sloppy, but a hypocrite I try not to be. Therefore, go forward remembering my issues are with content, not creator.
The article starts out explaining the origins of the term “Megxit”. It continues with other hashtags, conspiracy theories, and so on. The article even mentions various media platforms “attacking" the Duchess, as well as crude posts witnessed by the author.
Then the name dropping begins. First with Murky Meg, then Sue Blackhurst, then According2Taz, then Skippyv20 on Tumblr, then Yankee Wally. Eventually, names of Royal Rota journalists are dropped. Then people like Angela Levin and Omid Scobie get mentioned, with interviews from the latter. Instead of an undercover sting, we get a “Who’s Who" of Megxit, a few anonymous Sussex Squad quotations, and Omid trying his best to be fair.
What this article accomplishes is very little when it comes to objectivity. The title is a misconception, and the content essentially paints targets on the backs of the people the author carelessly considers “Meghan Markle Haters". The article reduces anyone who disagrees with Meghan’s behavior as racist, misogynist, conspiracy theorist nutters. So, not only is the content of the article sloppy and lazy, it also lacks originality. We’ve all heard this sad song-and-dance number a million times.
I guess at face value, it becomes very easy, effortless really, for outsiders looking in to reduce an entire group of people with similar views to the basic stereotypes as old as time. It takes very little thought, consideration, or critical analysis, to assume things because they seem to correlate. But correlation is not causation. Just because some people opposing of Meghan Markle’s behavior happen to be racist doesn’t mean every single opposing person is also racist. Again, lazy and sloppy.
Just like assuming every single Meghan Markle fan is also vegan, anti-monarchy, feminist, woke warriors is downright sloppy and lazy. This author has personally interacted with and found common ground with Sussex Squad people many times. Some even became social media friends. They believe what they do, and I believe what I do. We do not agree with most things regarding Harry and Meghan, but we do agree to disagree and be civil.
So, contrary to the article, not all people “hate" Meghan Markle just because they detest her behavior. It’s important to remember extremes exist for all spectrums. Every topic, especially those politicized or made popular by media platforms, have extremes. There is no denying the fact that there are people who hate Meghan Markle because of her ethnicity. Those extremists who hate Meghan for her ethnicity ironically do not discriminate, though. If they hate her for her ethnicity, they hate ALL people of that same ethnicity.
On the flip side of this coin, is the other extreme. The face is the same on each side because the face represents extremism. There is no denying the fact that there are extremists who see anyone opposing Meghan as racists. Extremists who, by default, view every issue in the world through the lens of racism. While racism is a serious problem that deserves no place in society, assuming racism is the root cause of every conflict is also lazy and sloppy. And the same could be said that these extremists do not discriminate, either. If they see race as the only issue for why people “hate" Meghan Markle, they see race as the only issue for most everything.
The problem with both extremes is when everything and everyone is reduced to racial identity, racism only continues to exist. A racist using skin color as a disqualifier perpetuates racism. Assuming racism is the only reason behind disdain for someone only perpetuates racism. Focusing on race or racism allows no room for content of character.
Especially when people defend Meghan Markle being the victim of racism with a racist rule. When opposing critics say “I didn’t even know she was Black" or suggest her physical features, her Hollywood CV, or past involvement with Black causes were nonexistent before she became a duchess or stepped down from being a working royal, the extremists on the other side often resort to the One Drop Rule.
Which means their defense for calling Meghan Markle “haters" racists, even though they might have never knew she was mixed race, is a form of racism. The One Drop Rule was borne from the Reconstruction Era post-Civil War. The “rule" essentially said anyone who appeared to have Black features were considered Black.
The One Drop Rule was the precursor and eventual backbone to Jim Crow Laws of the South. It was used to oppress and segregate Americans based on physical appearance. Considering most people who never heard of Meghan before Harry came along were ignorant to her mixed heritage, it seems grossly negligent to assume race is the real issue. How can one be racist toward Meghan when they didn’t know she was mixed race? This author wasn’t aware of Meghan’s ethnicity prior to it being pointed out (by her and Harry. Repeatedly.), mainly because this author didn’t care.
Like so many, when I first saw Meghan and Harry together for the engagement interview, I was more excited about a fellow American joining the Royal Family. After learning she was biracial, well it was even better. It represented change and progress. Does that mean I saw the Royal Family as racists beforehand? No. It means I saw them as exactly the opposite. Had they been racist, she’d not be a duchess. Her being American and divorced was more a shock to me than being mixed.
The point of all this is there are extremists on every spectrum. For a journalist to say they went undercover, when in fact they did not, to expose the true motives behind Meghan Markle “haters", only to find they did very little to really understand the other side was disappointing. Not surprising, just disappointing. This could’ve been an excellent opportunity for someone to take the reigns and make bridges between two very passionate factions. Instead it became nothing more than a hit piece.
The article fails to acknowledge the possibility – no, the probability – that most people who object to Meghan Markle do so because of how she behaves. The article only considers one possibility behind this “hate". And by calling the objections “hate", the article in turn defines all criticisms as hate speech. Again, unoriginal, sloppy, and lazy.
So here we have it, yet another article grouping and stereotyping anyone who disapproves of Meghan and Harry as racist haters. Yet again, another article name dropping people “deemed racist haters", essentially painting even bigger targets on the backs of those people. Like they didn’t already have enough hate mail. Yet again, another sloppy, lazy, article that never digs below the surface to understand why instead of assuming it.
This isn’t new, it’s just another slop drop from the sensationalism machine that has replaced fair, legitimate journalism. It would be different if there weren’t so many questions surrounding the births. It would be different if Meghan Markle actually lived by the example she so vehemently preaches. It would be different if Meghan Markle would make amends with her own family before telling the world how they should treat people. It would be different if Meghan Markle were a strong woman instead of claiming to be one.
But it’s not different. She hasn’t spoken to her father since two days before her wedding three years ago. She denies the family connections that existed before her fame. She ghosts people once they are no longer of benefit. She preaches equality and universal service while using her title every chance given. She and her husband criticize the “family she never had" while naming their second child after that family’s Matriarch. All of those are behaviors that incite strong emotional responses. Behaviors. And behavior has no racial identity.
A final note… hypocrisy is the main reason people have issues with anything. When one group of people tells another group to stop attacking a public figure, while using assumptions as their crusade call, it’s hypocrisy. One cannot say “if you can’t take the heat, then shut up!” to another without being a hypocrite. When that happens, don’t be surprised when the same exact thing is said back. If Meghan or her fans can’t take the criticism, they shouldn’t participate in it. We all have the right to choose. Just like if I couldn’t handle the criticism, I’d not be writing this.
Life is not fair. The world is a dark, cruel place. When we expect the world to bend to the will of a few, we are setting ourselves above the majority. A strong woman would know this. A strong woman fighting for others would also know that the only person responsible for how one feels is one’s self. External feedback isn’t responsible for internal turmoil. Internal feedback is. That is all.
REFERENCE:
Amoako, A. (2021 June 11). I went undercover in the sinister world of Meghan Markle hate accounts. Refinery29. Retrieved from: https://www.refinery29.com/en-gb/2021/06/10518195/megxit-meghan-markle-anti-fandom
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Joel did not doom humanity (no matter how much the second game wants you to believe that)
To demonize Joel’s decision at the end of the first game (saving his surrogate daughter’s life) you need to bend over backwards and ignore any and all context the first game gave us with regards to who the Fireflies truly are.
Because the truth of the matter is:
a) they knocked Joel unconscious while he was trying to revive a young girl
b) they drugged Ellie immediately to tear her body apart for their needs
c) THEY DID NOT ASK ELLIE FOR PERMISSION to give her life for their cause, they didn’t even tell her she would have to die (Ellie was making plans with Joel after the giraffe scene, “Once we're done, we'll go wherever you want. Okay?”, clearly indicating she had no idea she would have to die)
d) they did not let Ellie and Joel see each other to say their goodbyes
e) they were about to walk Joel out into the wilderness without any of his gear/resources, which during the zombie apocalypse is a certain death sentence
f) they didn’t hold up their end of the bargain (remember how Marlene promised Joel guns in return for delivering Ellie?)
So even if you show them as much goodwill as possible, the Fireflies are still a bunch of assholes. If the exact opposite had happened, they let Joel go all on good terms and then he suddenly decided to turn around and murder everyone I would have called him a terrible person, but that is not what happened. As it stands, the Fireflies are shady and questionable at best.
But it actually gets worse:
a) the procedure that would 100% kill Ellie had an incredibly low success rate (the doctor mentioned in his recording that every previous operation with other test subjects had failed)
b) the same recording mentions cerebrospinal fluid having been extracted, meaning they were capable of performing a non-lethal spinal tab, but they’re unable to perform a non-lethal biopsy or craniotomy on Ellie? (this may seem like nit-picking, but actually further solidifies my point about how incompetent the Fireflies/Abby’s dad were/was)
c) to add to their immense incompetence, mere hours after receiving Ellie they decide to IMMEDIATELY KILL THE ONLY PERSON KNOWN TO BE IMMUNE as oppose to keeping her alive for as long as possible to run every single test in existence on her.
But let's paint a picture of the best case scenario, which is Jerry, the absolute legend that he is, actually manages to get a vaccine out of Ellie, what happens then?
a) How are the Fireflies, who are nearly extinct at this point, supposed to MASS PRODUCE and NATIONWIDE DISTRIBUTE a vaccine? That is logistically impossible.
b) More than likely, they would use the vaccine as a bargaining chip against FEDRA (granted, this is more a guess than a fact, but to believe they wouldn’t take advantage of the vaccine in the fight for political power against the government they’ve been fighting for years is beyond naïve).
But let’s be even more generous: turns out the Fireflies are the most altruistic resistance group to have ever existed, they actually manage to produce and distribute the vaccine into every last corner of the country, everyone is immune. What now?
a) You might be immune to spores and bites, but your immunity doesn’t help you when a clicker rips your throat out or a bloater crushes you to death, the infected can still kill you in numerous other ways.
b) The faction wars going on are not gonna disappear overnight. WLF and Seraphites will continue to kill each other by the dozens every day, one could even argue that introducing a vaccine into the conflict would only cause things to escalate further.
c) Numerous cannibals, hunters and bandits still roam the country, they will not abandon their practices overnight and they are arguably a much bigger threat than the infected to begin with.
Just because everyone is immune does not mean that the world returns to sunshine, rainbows, and flowers. To imply that it would, means being simplistic and naive beyond reason.
It should be obvious by now that Ellie’s death WOULD NOT HAVE IMPROVED ANYTHING. The chances of actually getting a vaccine are slim to none, the chances of vaccinating everyone are even more dour, and even then the overall situation would not improve much. With such bad prospects I wouldn't be willing to sacrifice my child either. (I am aware that an argument can be made that none of these factors had an impact on Joel’s decision to save Ellie, yet they’re still crucial when making a judgement about the Fireflies/Abby’s dad).
To summarize:
a) Abby’s dad was incompetent and a horrible person (his conversation with Abby in the second game tells us that he would not be willing to sacrifice his own child, but if it’s someone else’s it’s a-okay for him).
b) The Fireflies were a malicious and incompetent terrorist group with messed up morals.
c) No, Joel did not doom humanity.
Subsequently, Abby’s quest for revenge was not justified because the Fireflies and her dad were never justified in their actions to begin with. And this is only solidified by the second game having to retcon the hell out of all these arguments I just painstakingly illustrated and explained in order to even attempt to have Abby’s motivation be seen as justified.
Only one example being how it was clearly established in the first game that they had MULTIPLE doctors in Salt Lake City (Marlene: “The doctors tell me that the cordyceps, the growth inside her, has somehow mutated.”; Ellie: “She said that they have their own little quarantine zone. With doctors there still trying to find a cure.”).
Yet in the second game we are told by
Abby that actually no, turns out her dad was the only doctor that could have developed vaccine. And it doesn't take mental gymnastics to see why the second game takes it upon itself to alter most of the context of the first one: to (retroactively!) condemn Joel.
HOWEVER, a sequel doesn’t get to pick and choose which established facts from the first entry it builds upon or what it gets to retroactively declare as non-canon only to have it fit their preferred narrative. Quite frankly, that’s bad writing. A sequel, in order to be considered well-written, has to not only be a natural continuation of the events, but has to stay consistent with the characters and the world that were previously set up. And if you have to alter much of the context to make it look like Joel condemned the world, isn't that the most obvious sign that he never actually did?
And all of this effort for just one goal: to justify Abby’s quest for revenge and yet it still wasn’t and here’s why: Joel killed her dad in order to PREVENT HIM FROM KILLING HIS DAUGHTER. Abby on the other hand WILFULLY SLOW TORTURED Joel for what appears to be hours, prolonging his death for as long as possible, all for her own gratification (and we won't mention how she went through with it despite Ellie's crying and pleading). And don’t even try to make the argument about Abby wanting “justice”, Joel didn’t torture her dad out of revenge or for his own gratification - this is not justice, this is simply sadistic. A man killing someone who is about to murder their child in semi-self-defense cannot be compared to someone wilfully slow torturing someone to death for their own gratification, like Jesus, I didn’t think I’d have to spell that one out.
I am aware that the second game tries to do whatever it can, including retconning their own original story, to paint Ellie and (especially!) Joel as evil. And for a considerable amount of the player base this actually worked, and while I cannot find it in me to condemn them (we all experience stories differently after all), I reserve the right to reject arguments in defense of Abby such as “all people are forced to do bad things during the apocalypse” and “does context even matter?”. If the only way you can defend/justify Abby's actions is to remove all context and nuance, then your reasoning is built on quicksand.
#I posted this a while ago but my account got deleted so here it is again#tlou#the last of us#ellie#joel#abby#tlou2#the last of us 2#the last of us part 2#ellie williams#joel miller#abby anderson#writing#storytelling#rant#post apocalypse#video games#naughty dog#tweaked the last two paragraphs a bit after having been made aware that I came across as defensive and accusatory#that was not my intention
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Did Kit suddenly lose his ability to heart-eye or is Pol!Jon actually a thing.
I'm late to the fandom but I just finished S7 and I'm having thoughts.
I'm a reader of the books, and I hadn't watched the show till now because... I suck at watching shows with hour long episodes and more than three seasons.
What made me decide to watch it was the Pol!Jon discourse I found on the Internet.
I know enough about the show to understand how unlikely and out of character this theory would seem to show watchers. At the same time, I fully believe that book!Jon would be fully capable of something like this. But also, even though I do ship Jonsa in the books, I can't deny that Jonerys is.....a big deal. Everyone expects it to happen. It's a highly anticipated pairing and....I just couldn't honestly believe Pol!Jon because it is just so against the general expectation.
So I decided to watch the show. And now I've finished season 7 and I am astounded.
Let me preface this by saying that I went into S7 already disliking Jonerys (sue me) but I still fully expected to have some serious doubts about the validity of Jonsa. I fully expected to be at least somewhat convinced of Jonerys. Even hating the idea of Jon and Danaerys together, I still expected more.
There are a number of things I would like to note here.
First, Jonerys is a romance that is told, not shown. Davos talks about Jon watching Dany's "good heart" (hehe) to tell us Jon is attracted to Dany. But then Jon immediately dismisses it- and not in a way that looks like he's deflecting. He's not only dismissing it, he's dismissive of it. His mind is not in the conversation, it is beyond the Wall.
Similarly, Tyrion says (not in those words), "yeah right, and Jon only looks at you longingly coz he wants a military alliance with you". Not sure what I'm supposed to think about that....? First, Jon doesn't look at Dany longingly at all???? Not once. Second, is this line supposed to suggest that Jon is looking at her longingly for a reason that is not desperately wanting a military alliance....? Because we already know that that's exactly what he does want. Wtf do I make of this statement?????
There are other examples, but the point remains. People keep talking about Jon and Dany being into each other, and that is what is supposed to convince us that they are into each other (well yea Dany is) but Jon gives no indication of looking at her longingly, of falling in love with her, of being intrigued by her even. He's a brick wall.
Alright, I'll concede one (1) scene where I saw legitimate attraction on his face for a second- that is the cave scene. Even there tho, it's hard to tell if he's just watching her reaction carefully or if he wants to bang her.
On the other hand, Dany shows that she is into him. Even so, when I say she's into him, I mean she's attracted to him and intrigued by him. I cannot believe she loves him.
Next, I think it's interesting that in the episode before (or was it the same episode?) Jon bends the knee, we have a number of people (Tormund, Beric) talk about stuff like- kings not bending the knee leading to people dying, knowing what's important (the fight against the dead), being the shield that guards the realm of men blah blah I don't remember the exact words. Then he sees the WW and the Army of the Dead (again) and sees a dragon die. And then, the first opportunity he gets, he bends the knee. I want to point out here that the scenes really emphasise on Jon's thinking face after every conversation he has during their little gay party beyond the Wall. They focus on the look on his face again while he's watching the Army. Multiple times. And there's clearly something going on in his head, gears are turning.
One other scene that struck me is the scene where Jon and Dany are saying goodbye to each other (the Eastwatch episode). In the same episode (if I remember correctly) Jon calls them strangers, and then the goodbye scene comes and Dany says to Jon's little morbid joke, "I've grown used to him". Him being Jon. Two things to note here-
One, Jon considers them strangers but Dany has gotten "used to him". Maybe it's nothing, or maybe it's an indication of how the two of them are absolutely not on the same page (about anything).
Second, Jon's face after she says that. It shuts down. Like a door slamming. And then he says that "wish you good fortune in the wars to come" line, which has ZERO romance, or longing, but a whole lot of bad precedent (does that make sense?). Ouch. The thought that occured to me here is that Dany is being somewhat obvious about her feelings, and maybe, just maybe Jon has picked up on it. And that is why he reacts the way he does.
I wasn't sure so I compared the scene with the Jonsa forehead kiss scene in S6, and Jon's expressions after that kiss.
My logic was this- I assume that either Jon has become aware of Dany's feelings in the Eastwatch goodbye scene, or his own feelings for her. One of these assumptions is true. Which one?
If Jon has feelings for Sansa, then his confusion/awareness/discomfort regarding that are seen in that forehead kiss scene. So if Jon has become aware of his feelings for Dany, let's see how these two scenes compare?
My dudes. There is no comparison. Go watch it.
I watched both scenes with sound off, and the difference is insane. Jon looks at Sansa's lips. There's a moment's pause that's full of tension, and then his face shuts in a way, but it's a bit confused, a bit thoughtful.
Jon does not look at Dany's lips. He does not look confused, or thoughtful. This is not a romance.
Side observation- speaking of showing and telling, it's funny how we're shown Jon looking at Sansa's wolf bits, and told that Jon looks at Dany's good heart. Yes I'm talking about boobs but wolf bits and good heart is funnier. We literally see Jon look at the wolf bits twice, talk about it himself, in a completely unnecessary conversation...as opposed to being entirely dismissive of the good heart, even when someone else brings it up.
Back to the main point, one last thing I'd like to talk about is the scene where Jon actually bends the knee (not really). First, there are still no heart-eyes. Definitely not from Jon. Second, it's funny how Jon uses the exact hand-grabbing move that Sansa used on him last season, when she was trying to convince him to do something he didn't particularly wanna do (like he's now trying to do with Dany). This means that
1) he learnt that move from Sansa. He knows how effective it is XD
2) if the Jonerys hand-grab is romance, it stands to reason that the Jonsa hand-grab is romance too. I mean both the grabs are suspiciously similar.
Then, even after Dany "promises" that she'll help the North fight the WW, Jon still bends the knee. I felt both an odd sense of urgency coming from him, and an understandable hesitation. Or maybe that's just me.
Now suddenly, he becomes complimentary of her. But there's something weird about his compliments. They are completely generic. "They'll see you for what you are" and in the later episode, "you're not like the others". Wtf does that MEAN ??
Here's the thing...Jon could have paid Dany a way more specific, genuine sounding compliment after bending the knee (complete with heart eyes). I mean she did just fly over the Wall to rescue him and his men. He could have said more, something meaningful, but he didn't. He bent the knee like a house on fire (that doesn't make sense but you get what I mean I hope) and paid generic compliments. Then he pretended to sleep until she left and then sighed very loudly.
??? Romance??? WHERE????
Then the dragon pit. Heart-eyes still missing.
Then the sex scene. What do I say? Lol.
No really. There are no heart eyes even during the sex scene. Honestly, idk what that face was. Not in love for sure.
Another side note- Arya and Sansa have talks while standing in the same place where the forehead kiss scene happened (wtf do you call that place again, the bridge.??) But no heart eyes. No lingering looks. There is no incestuous gay love between them, I can say for sure. All it does is prop up the odd incestuous vibes of the Jon Sansa scene in that same place.
ANOTHER side note- goddamn but does Sansa talk about Jon a lot.
Edit: I'm sure most of this stuff has already been discussed in other metas. My purpose here is only to put down my first thoughts after watching the season.
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𝐍𝐞𝐰𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏𝟒𝐤
𝐍𝐁: 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭
A/N: Now that we’re at the end of year 1, there will be a lil pause in updates for the time being, just fyi! Next update will be on Sunday 23rd May and then every Sunday until the end of the second year again, which is a tag bit longer and MUCH more eventful than the first year aiajfiegj ✨ Anyway !!! Enjoy chapter 11, it’s a Lot 🏛️🦅
December 2013
Though Y/N was used to her sister doing things when she wanted to and not really having a care in the world for what anyone else would think, it still took her a little by surprise when she walked in the direction of the woods. The sisters had helped their parents carry all the luggage indoors, not doing so would result in Lottie scolding them for being lazy. Neither wanted the Christmas cabin trip to start on a bad note.
“You coming?!” Marcela called to her sister, stopping by a tree and resting her hand against it.
“Coming…” Y/N said to herself, looking over at the cabin door that still stood open before glancing in Marcela’s direction again. “Coming where?!”
“Let’s take a walk!”
It was just about to get dark, the sky above them white like a cotton blanket was draped lazily over the south of Wales, but greying with an oncoming storm. The last time Y/N had been to Newport was a weekend in October, but it had been raining constantly, so she had not taken the time to walk around the forest or stroll down to the ocean a mere 10-minute walk from the cabin. She had just been indoors, reading The Picture of Dorian Gray and not feeling any sort of need to leave the cabin’s four warm walls. Marcela had been in Manchester then, busy with uni work, and planning on spending the weekend studying in the library. She had an article that needed to be written for the UoM’s monthly academic journal, she said she wanted to finish it as quickly as possible, so Y/N had not asked her sister to drop it and come regardless. Though she had very much wanted to do just that.
“Y/N!”
Y/N walked over to her sister instantly, jogging a little to reach her before Marcela just turned around and started walking on before they were side by side. Though the trees around them weren’t many, they were big. Huge beech trunks rose up from the ground around them sporadically, their massive branches stretching out around them like the long, slithering limbs of many insects. Different coloured leaves covered most of the forest floor, though some brown and yellow still lingered in the dark, old trees. In summertime, most of the forest was left in shade, covered up by the thick layer of leaves that rose high above them, preventing actual sunbeams from touching the ground.
“Any idea what you’re gonna be wearing for New Year’s Eve?” Marcela asked once the two of them had walked a minute in silence.
New Year’s Eve was just a few days away, and the family planned on spending it alone in Newport. Marcela usually spent it with Kit and friends in Manchester, but it had been a while since she had celebrated a proper Brazilian New Year’s Eve. Though the Montes family usually spent it in Nottingham with the rest of their big family, Davi and Lottie wanted to try and spend this one with just the four of them. Neither one of the sisters were opposed to the idea, it just meant they wouldn’t have to watch their primos, Edgar at 7, Valentim at 5, and Raimundo at 2, while tia Gilma and tio Jaren ate their Véspera de Ano Novo dinner undisturbed. They loved their primos dearly, but it often left both of them massaging their temples to get rid of a throbbing headache afterwards.
“I brought a white tee shirt and some white joggers,” Y/N said, wrinkling her nose. “I hate wearing white.”
“Why, it doesn’t go with your gothic-black-clothing type of lifestyle?” Marcela laughed, reaching up and picking a yellow leaf off a branch.
Y/N did not feel like telling Marcela why she hated wearing white. And in turn therefore hated part of New Year’s Eve. Only that one part.
Davi always started off every Réveillon, or every new year, by knocking on his daughters’ doors and exclaiming, “Ano novo, vida nova!” New Year, new life. Brazilians are extremely superstitious when it comes to New Year’s Eve. What you do, eat, and wear on New Year’s Eve, will draw certain energies and wishes for the upcoming year. New Year’s Eve in Rio de Janeiro is a massive beach party from Copacabana Beach to Ipanema and beyond. Millions upon millions of people gather at their nearest beach to celebrate, starting early in the evening and going all night, Y/N had always dreamed of one day experiencing that herself. She had been to Brazil, but never on New Year’s Eve.
One of the Brazilian traditions for New Year’s is to wear all-white. Y/N was told by Davi years ago that the tradition came from African religions as an homage to the God Oxalá. It was then adopted by Roman Catholics and Evangelists alike, and though their family wasn’t religious, they practiced this regardless. Another tradition that you did alongside the all-white, was that you have to wear coloured underwear on New Year’s, and it all depended on what you want you want the new year to bring.
“I brought a white dress,” Marcela explained. “What colour?”
“Hmm, I brought a few colours. Think I might go with laranja.”
“Orange,” Marcela smiled. “Professional success. Good choice.”
“And you?”
“Amarelo.”
Y/N blinked. “Yellow.”
“Luck,” Marcela said. “What do you think everyone that sees us at the beach on New Year’s Eve are gonna think? They’ll see us jumping into the water and into seven ondas.” Marcela laughed. “Unless they know of Brazilian culture, they won’t understand what’s going on.”
Y/N smiled.
“Let’s confuse them.”
“Going into the ocean at midnight and jumping into seven waves for good luck, is nice.” Y/N wrinkled her nose. “If the water just hadn’t been so cold.”
“And we need to jump into the ice-cold waves head-on.”
“But you can make one wish for each wave.” She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s been a while since we got to do that, not a lot of ocean in Notts.”
Marcela smiled. “If only we were in Copacabana.”
“I want to watch the fireworks there so baaad!”
“Instead we’re stuck in Newport.”
“Well,” Y/N said, cocking her head to the side as she caressed a tree when they walked past it. “You decided to come here yourself, I was forced. I’m stuck, you can leave.”
Marcela only bumped Y/N’s shoulder with her own, shaking her head at her before she jogged a bit away. Y/N just continued on walking, thinking that her sister had just found a rock or something else that she wanted to pick up, but after a few metres, she was still not back. Turning around, she saw her sister hunched over something further away than she had seen her last, wiping at something on the ground as if to reveal something hidden beneath the layer of leaves and dirt there. Y/N walked over, feeling as if the forest around them had just gone deadly quiet. Marcela stood as Y/N approached, pointing at something on the ground.
A small cellar hatch. Made out of old wood and painted a ghastly brown colour to blend in with the nature around it. In the 10 or so years the Montes family had owned the Newport cabin, never had Y/N stumbled upon this hatch. It looked aged, as if it had been there for way longer than the cabin had. Or maybe it had been made in a hurry and left just like this, with no one to care for it. Y/N looked over at Marcela who was studying the hatch, bending down again to check it out more closely.
“Do you think anyone lives here?” she asked. The question made Y/N feel oddly cold.
“Would hope not. It’s right next to our cabin.”
“Why would it be here otherwise?”
“Dunno.” Y/N looked around them, the forest looked darker now. “Mari, let’s go back.”
“Y/N, we can’t just leave. We need to check this out,” Marcela said, reaching for the metal handle. “I thought you liked exploring.”
“I do, but… this is creepy.”
“No, it’s not.”
Without warning, Marcela opened the hatch, flipping it over so it rested on the other side, leaving the contents of the cellar visible to them both. Y/N took a small step back, but then took one forward again, wanting to be quick to her sister’s aid in case someone or something jumped out at her. But nothing did.
Instead of seeing a cellar exposed to them right under the hatch, a rather narrow and long tunnel straight downwards showed itself to them instead. A metal ladder ran along one of the walls, reaching a long way down, but the destination was left completely in darkness, making it hard to make out anything but the rotting wooden panels around the ladder and the rusting metal of said ladder. Marcela got her phone out, turning on the flashlight and shining it down the tunnel.
“There’s a room down there,” she said, moving closer, squinting down at the cellar.
“Mari, let’s go.”
“Must be here from the second World War or something.”
Y/N looked around, anticipating someone running up on them.
“I’m going down.”
“What-“ Y/N’s head whipped in her sister’s direction, but before she could even try and stop her, Marcela’s feet were on the rusting ladder. “Marcela, what the fuck are you doing?!”
“I just want to see what’s down here.”
“Which is a terrible idea. Get up.”
However, Marcela had never been one to listen to anyone but herself. She merely rolled her eyes at Y/N before she started her descent, keeping her phone in her mouth so it would shine downward and onto whatever she was about to see. Y/N felt herself both worried stupid and curious. She too wanted to know what was down there as well, but her concern for her sister and what she was doing championed over any curiosity she might have felt.
“Mari, I don’t like this,” Y/N called down, sitting on her knees by the cellar opening, not caring that her trousers would get dirty.
Marcela said something, though Y/N could not hear properly through the phone in her sister’s mouth.
“What?!”
Marcela struggled to get her phone out of her mouth, gaze turned downward as she examined the room underneath her. “I’m down!”
“What is it?”
“A shelter room of sorts.” Marcela let go of the ladder, jumping down into the dirt floor. “There’s a bed, some cabinets.”
“Great, you’ve had a peek,” Y/N called down. “Now get up.”
Marcela stood still for a second, turning around 360 degrees to take in the whole room. She suddenly stopped, eyes landing on something at the other end of the room. She walked toward it, disappearing from Y/N’s view.
“Marcela!” Y/N shouted, but Marcela did not reply, not even when she shouted a second time. “Mari, where are you-“
“-Y/N, oh my days,” Marcela groaned. “Chill out.”
“What was I supposed to do?! You disappeared!”
“I was okay,” Marcela said, grinning up at her sister. Y/N could almost just make out her sister’s teeth. “This is the best hiding place by our cabin, I think.”
“Can you get up here now? I think it’s starting to rain.”
“Fine,” Marcela said, putting her phone back in her mouth as she reached for the lowest rung of the ladder. Wrapping her fingers around the rusting metal, she was ready to pull herself up when she yelped. Next thing Y/N knew, metal clanged against the soil of the cellar and Marcela gasped for air, the flashlight of her phone cast at the ground, drenching the cellar in an unremitting darkness.
“Mari?!”
The only thing Y/N heard was Marcela heaving for dry breaths and shuffling, as if she was trying to find her phone on the floor of the cellar. With shaking hands, Y/N reached for her own phone, and though she was unsure of how much her phone would help, she shone her own flashlight down in the cellar. It gave Marcela just enough light to finally find her phone and shine a light around her. The rusty rung had fallen completely off the ladder, now laying somewhere Y/N could not see.
Marcela stood back up, dusting the dirt off her black tights.
“You okay?!” Y/N shouted.
“Fine.”
But she did not sound fine, and she looked worse as she walked up the ladder, finally making it to the surface. Y/N took a grip of her sister’s jacket, helping her out the last metre.
“You’re fucking mad,” Y/N hissed. “Never do that again.”
“Calm down.” Marcela stood up, Y/N joining her not even a second later. “I’m fine.”
“That cellar is old, Marcela, what were you thinking?! It could’ve collapsed, it-“
“-But I’m fine. It didn’t collapse.” Marcela took a grip of Y/N’s shoulders. “I’ve seen that hatch before, but only when I was on walks alone, I didn’t dare open it up and check what was down there without someone here. Now you were, and I didn’t feel so afraid anymore.”
Y/N clenched her teeth, her heart still hammering awfully fast.
“You make me brave, meu docinho de côco.”
My coconut sweet. The pet name made Y/N halt a bit. It had been years since Marcela had called her that. It’s an old-fashioned Brazilian pet name, one Marcela had started calling Y/N when she was just a baby because she had overheard their avó calling someone that, and so she had adopted it herself. They had countless of home movies filmed on rubbish cameras where five-year-old Marcela sat with baby Y/N in her lap, giving her a kiss to the forehead and repeating “meu docinho de côco” over and over again.
“Let’s go back to the cabin,” Marcela said. “Mum is probably angry we haven’t made our beds yet,” Marcela laughed, but Y/N only managed to smile a tine bit. “Aw, Y/N, I’m fine, really,” she assured her. “If I had died down there, I would’ve let you kill me.”
“Good.”
Marcela only laughed before she turned around and closed the hatch.
Friday, 27 April 2018
Y/N didn’t like being in central London. Though there were people everywhere in the capital, there was something about the never-ending crowds of the City of London that made Y/N detest being there. Tourists would walk in and out of shops, clogging up the streets to look at Google Maps on their phones, and not have a single care in the world for those who lived there and just wanted to get to their final destination.
April was definitely not the worst month, there had been and probably would be far worse months with tourists everywhere, but London was a natural and easy weekend trip for anyone living in Europe, and a nice place to visit for anyone else in the world as well, which resulted in it being a busy city at all times. It was not enough that over 12 million lived in or close to the capital, it sometimes felt like there were just as many tourists visiting the city as there were inhabitants. Today, Y/N ended up walking behind a particularly slow group of Dutch people, she recognised it immediately as they spoke, having heard Annalise speak just like them before. Regardless of that, Y/N just wanted to enter a shop without mowing her way through them. It took her a few minutes until she was able to navigate her way around them, by sprinting past them on the street beside them, making it back onto the pavement in time for a double decker to zoom by.
Finally reaching New Look on Gracechurch Street, Y/N walked on inside, feeling in the humid air outside that it was just about to start raining. With Communion playing in her ears and the voice of Olly Alexander singing about being confused about whether to want love or desire from someone, Y/N took a right as she entered the massive New Look, excited to treat herself to some new clothes.
She had been sitting in the Mile End Library on campus all day. The three essays she needed to finish along with revision for her exam in May was all catching up to her, almost making it impossible to fall asleep at night. She would lay awake, thinking about what she had to do the next day, what she should’ve done today, and the five-hundred things that needed to be done at one time or another. It had been a while since she had spent her time overthinking as much as she was right now. Now that almost none of her mates were in London yet, she spent most of her time by herself, either sitting in the library or a café, always doing uni work and always zoning out when she remembered something else she needed to research or another argument to bring up in another one of her essays. She didn’t like studying all by herself in her room. It felt too quiet. She needed people around her, some kind of sounds, even if that was just a student coughing a few tables down from hers. Even though she was by herself in the flat, at least she wasn’t completely by herself all the time.
Her thinking about uni hadn’t been the only reason it had been hard for her to sleep at night. Even though part of her detested herself for it, she still felt relieved at the thought of Harry arriving later that day. Finally she wouldn’t be alone in the flat, someone else was there with her. Even though she had heard their neighbours talking and moving around in their own flats before, she always woke up or stopped whatever she was doing at the smallest sound, even though part of her knew it was just one of their neighbours. She had never slept in a house completely by herself before. Whenever her parents were away, Marcela would come stay with her, and if she couldn’t, then Nathan would sleep over. Y/N had never been so alone like she was now ever before. It scared her.
Even though she knew nothing would actually happen to her, she knew how to throw a punch and knee someone in the groin so it hurt a little extra, it still felt good knowing Harry would be there now.
Suddenly, she stumbled upon something that had her stopping rather abruptly. A white tee shirt with a black X on it, a pink dragon slithering its way in and around the letter. Y/N absolutely loved it. She could see it going super well with her black pleated skirt, some fishnets, and her Docs. She took it off the rack, studying it a bit closer, she turned the head and hung it over the rack again, pulling it out to check the size of it. It was rather small. She checked the sizing, seeing that it was a medium. Putting it back properly on the rack, Y/N started filtering through the different tee shirts, trying to find one large or X large. After all, she could not deal with it being a slim fit. But she found nothing, they only had it in 2X small, X small, or medium.
“Excuse me,” she said, walking up to someone who looked like they worked in New Look. The employee smiled at Y/N as she approached. “Do you by any chance have this one in extra-large?”
“I’ll go check,” the employee said, walking off rather quickly so she could check and get back as quickly as possible. A few minutes later, Y/N still stood where the employee had left her, but she came back, a little out of breath, shaking her head.
“I’m sorry, we only have it in large or anything under, not extra-large.”
Y/N felt her heart sink, she smiled at the employee anyway. “Thank you for checking.”
“No problem,” she smiled back. “Also… uhm-“ She pointed over her shoulder at the escalator. “-If you’re looking for plus sized items, they’ll be upstairs. We don’t have many extra-large alternatives downstairs.”
Not only had Y/N’s heart sunk to the very bottom of her stomach, now it had just fallen out of her arse and down to the bottom of the universe. Telling herself that the employee only meant well, Y/N nodded, thanking her, and put the tee shirt back on the rack. She walked to the escalator, taking it up and looking at the board for the overview of the different sections of the store. Downstairs was woman’s clothing, first storey was more women’s clothing, men’s clothing, and plus size, while the second storey was shoes, accessories, and changing rooms. That put Y/N off. How come there were more shoes and accessories being offered than plus sized clothing?
She started walking around the first storey, looking for the plus size section. It took a while for her to find it, but when she finally located it, she understood why and didn’t understand at the same time. The section was just as big, if not smaller, than the men’s clothing section, and how could she have not seen it when all the clothes looked the same? Everything looked at something her 50-year-old mother would wear, and though some of the items would look cute on her mother, nothing stood out to Y/N. None of the items were cute. In fact, they rather looked like bin bags with a bit of cleavage and zero tailoring to accentuate a woman’s figure. It just looked like clothes for the sake of wearing clothes, nothing that would stand out in a crowd or make the wearer look cute.
Y/N found a blouse that she was sure her mother would have loved, burgundy with blue flowers on it. However, she stopped dead in her tracks as she saw what was written at the very top of the blouse. Maternity. Quickly, Y/N put it back, looking around her to see if the maternity section was anywhere close to the plus size one. However, upon closer inspection, she realised that the maternity section was just combined with the plus size section. There was no difference. After all, it was all just bigger clothes. Plus size, maternity; did it matter.
Balling her hands into fists, Y/N left the store. She willed herself not to cry, not to lose it, until she reached a less crowded area. As she walked, it was hard for her to formulate how she was feeling. It was hard to put words to what she was going through. Even though she could’ve taken the tube or the bus, Y/N walked home. And in the 40 minutes it took her to reach the flat, she had not come to a conclusion to understand why she was so sad. The words were there, she could read them and see them, but as soon as she reached for them, to admit them to herself and to fully grasp them, they evaporated into grey vapour. She could not say it.
Sunday, 29 April 2018
“You’ve been quiet.”
Y/N tore her eyes away from the raindrops racing down one another on the window beside her. She glanced at Harry behind the steering wheel, his eyes on the road ahead of him, but he must have looked at her to understand that something was wrong. Or… well, he didn’t really have to. Y/N liked to talk, if she was quiet, then something was most likely wrong.
“Have I?” she asked, looking at her hands resting in her lap.
“Yeah, you alright?”
“No, I…” Y/N bit her lips together, feeling something in her throat clog up, as if the words refused to leave her mouth. She didn’t know what those words would even be if she were to speak them. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know what’s wrong?”
She leaned her head back against the headrest. “Still working on it.”
“Alright,” Harry said, shifting his grip on the wheel. “Wanna talk? To get your mind off whatever’s bothering you?”
Y/N could feel herself smiling a tad at that. “Yeah.”
“I got the dagger tattoo.”
She looked at Harry. “You did?”
“Yeah, did some of it myself, but some angles were hard to do properly, so Wes helped me out.”
If Harry had only told Y/N earlier, he could have shown her the tattoo while they were still at the flat. Now, instead, they were in Harry’s car, driving down a tiny road that led to the cabin on the outskirts of Newport, Wales. They had been quiet most of the way, Y/N suspected Harry had given her silence so she could think. After all, they were going back to the cabin where her sister had been murdered, if she wanted to stay silent and reflect upon that then she should be allowed to. So, Harry let her be, only occasionally asking questions and making conversation, but for the most part, he just kept quiet, thinking and knowing that was what she really needed.
“You’ll have to show me later,” she said, smiling over at him.
Harry kept his eyes on the road as it went from gravel to dirt, making the drive bumpier than it already had been. Those same big trees rose above them that Y/N remembered from her childhood, keeping the best hiding places and all the world’s secrets. Leaves occupied the trees now working like an impenetrable roof for the forest floor beneath, which explained why the grounds were so brown and not a lush green colour.
“Down here,” Y/N said, her voice sounding faraway. Distant, even.
Harry must have noticed too, but he did not say anything, instead keeping his eyes on the road as it grew narrower. It did not even take a minute for the wooden cabin to show itself. An old Swedish couple had built it in the late 1980s, making it look very Scandinavian and half finished with its brown colour and small square windows. Y/N had not brought a key, knowing that she did not have the guts to enter the cabin just yet. She just needed a look, just needed to check something.
Harry cut the engine as they reached the parking spot Y/N’s papai always used. It was less of a marked-up parking spot and more of a convenient place to park your car. The ground showed of where a car had once stood many times over, and so Harry did the same as Y/N’s papai did. The window into the living room was just to Y/N’s left, and though you could barely make anything out without coming up close to look through it, she kept her eyes trained on the forest in front of her, not daring to even look in the direction of the cabin.
She closed her eyes, finding something that could resemble courage, and let it take over her. As long as she just did this without thinking too much, then she could get through it. She could reflect on what had just happened at a later time. Now, she just needed to get out of the car, and do what she came here to do.
She opened the car door and stepped outside, walking away from the cabin right away to create as much distance between her and the darkest place on planet Earth. Y/N heard her panicked breathing, and realised that if she looked at the cabin one more time, then that courage she had found bottled up inside her would not be enough to keep her on her feet when a panic attack came over her. She heard footsteps behind her and felt Harry’s presence at her side seconds later, his hands in his coat pocket as he looked up at the grey sky above them. It had been hot enough for them to wear tee shirts only yesterday, but now they had to wear jackets in order not to freeze. That was the weather in the United Kingdom for you in a nutshell.
“You alright?” Harry asked, his voice reassuring, but the hand he put at her back eased her more.
She nodded her head.
Harry looked around them at the dark forest that stretched out in all different kinds of directions, then scanning the sky above again. “This looks just as creepy as I would’ve imagined.”
Y/N swallowed, closing her eyes as she tried to calm her racing heart. The mere fact that the cabin was behind her made her want to throw up right then and there. “You think?”
“Yeah,” Harry said. “You loved it here when you were little?”
“I did. It was a safe haven,” Y/N explained, opening her eyes again, facing the exact part of the forest that she wanted to walk down. “It wasn’t this dark before.”
Harry only looked at her, but the next second, Y/N walked away from the cabin, continuing down the path her sister had taken her all those years ago. Harry followed suit, studying the woods around them the trees they walked by, the thick layer of green leaves above them. A crease appeared between his brows, indicating that he was incredibly uncomfortable being here. Somehow, that comforted Y/N.
The two of them walked for a few minutes, Harry not once asking where they were headed or what Y/N wanted to do out here in the forest, only following and trusting that she knew what she was doing. These woods had been her playground when she was little, she knew parts of them as well as she knew the inside of her room home in Nottingham.
Finally, they reached what Y/N had wanted to come to Newport for. When she stopped and bent down, Harry almost fell over his own feet, for some reason not having seen this one coming. He only watched as she dusted dried and dead leaves off the forest floor, revealing the old and wooden hatch. Touching the handle felt strange, as if she were touching part of history. She slowly opened the hatch, revealing the ladder beyond and the darkness of the cellar. Seeing it again brought back the memory of her and Marcela being her together all those years ago, of seeing her sister lose grip of the last rung. Hearing her meet the floor of the cellar with a thud.
Y/N reached for the phone in her pocket, bringing it out and getting her flashlight out, pointing it down at the pitch-black hole. It was just as she remembered.
“What’s that?” Harry asked, taking a careful step towards the hole to get a closer look.
“A cellar of sorts,” Y/N said. “My sister once told me this was the best hiding place near our cabin.”
Harry glanced at Y/N then, knowing what was happening next. Y/N put her phone in her mouth like her sister had done, and then let her feet dangle off the edge of the hole. She gripped the topmost step and planted her feet on one further down.
“Y/N, that’s pure fucking madness,” Harry said. “Get up.”
She took her phone out of her mouth. “Harry, I need to check to see what’s down there. It might be nothing, but this has eaten me alive recently. I need to check.”
Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, but let me go down there first.”
Y/N blinked. However, she did not protest, merely removed her feet from where they were already firmly placed on a step, and let Harry get his own phone out.
“Fuck, it’s dark,” Harry mumbled as he shone a light down in the cellar. “Have you been down there before?”
“No,” Y/N said. “But Marcela has. I suspect she’s been there multiple times.”
“Did the police ever find this place?”
Y/N thought for a second before she raised a shoulder in a shrug. “Dunno. I’ll have to ask mum and pai.”
Harry nodded, putting his phone in his mouth like she had just done. He sat down by the hole and took a grip of the ladder, a curl falling into his forehead as he started on his descent. Y/N watched him as he climbed all the way down, jumping off the ladder and onto the cellar floor with ease. He looked around, scanning the room slowly with his flashlight while Y/N sat by the top, watching like she had watched Marcela.
“The last steps are gone,” Harry called up.
“I know,” Y/N called back before putting her phone in her mouth, telling herself to just fucking do this. She had to do this. For Marcela. Y/N gripped the ladder and started climbing down like she had just watched Harry do, like she had watched Marcela do four years ago. The ladder felt old and rusty under her fingers, making her entire body tense up. She was ready to fall to her death any second, to be the sole reason why her and Harry starved to death in a cellar no one but them knew existed.
Finally, with sweat dotting her forehead and cupid’s bow, she reached the last whole step. But as she was about to put her foot there, she met nothing put air. She squealed a little, holding a little tighter onto the ladder with her hands and other foot.
“Oi,” Harry said, moving closer and putting a hand up. “Easy. I told you the last few steps had fallen off.”
Y/N furrowed her brows.
“Just jump, I’m here,” he said, voice so reassuring and warm that everything felt okay for a single second.
She did as he said, jumping from where she stood. Her feet hit the ground a little to hard, making her wince, but Harry was right there, one hand gripping her arm while the other arm snaked around her waist, holding her upright.
“There we go,” he mumbled, only just then realising that his phone’s flashlight was shining into Y/N’s jacket, making it harder to see the cellar. He took a small step away, letting her regain her footing as she glanced around. It was emptier than she thought it was. A simple wooden bed stood there, but no mattress occupied it, and some cupboards were on the other side of the tiny cellar, though some of the doors hung off their hinges, others looked fine, and some were removed. The walls and floor consisted of compact dirt, and the whole place smelled of rusted iron. Y/N hated it.
“Cosy place, innit,” Harry said, sounding like he meant the quite opposite. “Throw in a disco ball and you could host a rave.”
Y/N almost chuckled, but then her eyes landed on something on the floor beside some of the cupboards. A blue dog bowl. Whether it had been used for water or food, Y/N did not know, but it looked very out of place in such an old and dirty cellar. It had some dirt on it, probably having fallen from the ceiling and down into it over time, but the rather modern, blue dog bowl looked completely out of place. Y/N was certain this had not been here when Marcela was down there, or she would have told Y/N about it right away, even picked it up to show her.
What kind of sick human being had left a dog down in this cellar to die? Though it was dirty, the bowl did not seem to have been used. Maybe the dog had been given a last bowl of water before the owner just left it there to rot.
“What’s that doing here?” Harry asked, looking at the bowl over Y/N’s shoulder. He took it from her hands to examine it further, turning it over in his hand. “Strathy.”
Y/N blinked. “What?”
“Strathy.” He turned the bowl, showing Y/N the name that was written on it in neat handwriting. “The dog’s name.”
“Strathy,” she mumbled under her breath, feeling an immense sort of sadness take over her. She might not like animals much, but even she saw how wrong this was.
Harry grimaced, clearly feeling absolutely disgusted with this as well. After all, his dad took care of dogs at a dog hotel in Buckinghamshire. He had a rather special bond with the animal, Y/N supposed.
“Who just leaves a dog bowl down here?” she asked aloud, not expecting Harry to answer.
He frowned at it, giving it back to her so she could look at it. “Doesn’t make sense.”
Y/N turned around, looking at the ladder. And it was as Harry had said, the last two steps were gone, laying in pieces on the floor beneath the hole. “No, it doesn’t.”
Harry glanced over at where Y/N was looking, furrowing his brows. “Your sister said this was the best hiding place by your cabin?”
“Yeah, in December before the year she was killed,” Y/N said. “No one would find you if you hid here.”
Harry looked at Y/N as she looked at him. “Then why did someone else, someone who clearly came here after you and your sister did in December, know about this cellar?”
Y/N felt sick. “They must have known the grounds pretty well to know this was here.”
Harry only nodded, eyes falling to the dog bowl in Y/N’s hand. She glanced at the ladder again, feeling confused and furious at the same time. Who had been here after her and her sister had?
Wednesday, 2 May 2018
Even though Y/N’s door was open, Harry still knocked on the doorframe, looking in through the small slit in the door to check if it was alright with her if he entered.
“Disturbing my peace and quiet,” she said jokingly, putting a few folded tops in her suitcase to bring with her home for the summer.
“Thought you would appreciate the sight of the biggest hunk on the British Isles,” Harry grinned, opening the door and leaning a shoulder against the doorframe. “Give you some inspiration. Some motivation, even.”
Y/N rolled her eyes, Harry chuckling at the sigh as she put some more clothes in her suitcase. The room fell back into silence as Harry gave her some breathing space, obviously thinking that she did not appreciate him blocking her in any way when she was packing. She was not packing her entire room, after all she was coming back in September, but most of her clothes were in London and she wanted to take them home with her so she could wear them there. They were of no use just laying in her dresser in Hackney.
“How’d the exam go?” Harry asked.
She looked up at him, taking in his simple outfit. A loose buttoned-up shirt in a nice cream colour was tucked into dark brown trousers, his feet bare and his skin already glowing with an oncoming tan. So, he had spent most of the day outside. The tan would look nice against his tattoos. Y/N’s eyes fell to Harry’s tattoos, the ones on his knuckles in Greek that she still did not know the meaning behind, and then the barbed wire, making him look more badass than Y/N knew him to be. He now had a fern just below the dagger he had taken in April and a leaf on his pinky finger just below the barbed wire. At this rate, Harry would be covered in tattoos by the end of the year.
“New ink,” Y/N noted.
The right side of his lips tipped upward as he looked down at his arms and hands. “Yes.”
“You’re just taking advantage of the fact that you know how to use a tattoo gun.”
Harry chuckled. “Someone should take it away from me.”
“Truly.”
“I’m scared that I’ll, like, come up with cooler tattoo ideas later on, but then I’ve already filled up the spot where it’d look best.”
Y/N tilted her head at him. “Then you should slow down the tattooing.”
“Nah, can’t do that, love.”
She only rolled her eyes again, sitting down on top of the suitcase so she could close it and pull the zipper shut properly.
“You didn’t answer me earlier,” Harry asked, walking inside and sitting down on Y/N’s bed. “How’d your exam go?”
Y/N sighed, resting her chin in her hand as she glanced over at him. “Alright. We had an hour to, like, answer the two questions, one short answer and then a short essay. I was about halfway through my essay when I realised I only had ten minutes left.”
Harry grimaced.
“So, I just had to write until my wrist and hand ached, and was about to start writing the conclusion when we had to hand the papers over. I think Isla wrote way more than I did, dunno how she managed that.”
“How many pages did you get in?”
“About 12.”
Harry just stared at her. “And Isla got more down?”
“I think closer to 20.”
“20 handwritten pages in an hour?!” Harry said, sounding absolutely bewildered.
“She’s a machine that one.”
“Obviously.”
Y/N nodded, getting up from her suitcase and walking across her bed to get to the windows. She closed them both firmly, pulling the white heart pointelle cami top further down her torso, though it was supposed to just reach her belly button. Thankfully, her black tights reached just a little bit further up, keeping any more of Y/N’s skin to be exposed than what she wanted.
“Okay,” she said, sitting down beside him in bed again. “I want to be sure you’ve actually gotten better.”
“Understandable,” Harry retorted, nodding slightly.
“So, I don’t want to do too much just yet.”
He stopped for a second. “What does that mean?”
“That I want to just make out and get a feel of where you’re at. I think sex comes when we’re both turning each other on to the point where it’s actually going to be enjoyable. When I’m wet enough and you’re hard enough.”
Harry tried not to smile, but Y/N could tell he wanted to flash her a smirk. “I can assure you, you can make me do anything, and I’d be hard on the fucking spot.”
Y/N’s chest felt warm, and within seconds, her cheeks were approximately around the same temperature as the sun’s surface. There was something so very sweet about that, yet incredibly hot. She looked away from him, trying to act unbothered as she tried to find her words again, but by the slight chuckle emanating from Harry’s lips, Y/N knew he saw right through her act.
“What I’m trying to say is that I just want us to get familiar with the other’s body. Foreplay isn’t just about touching someone; it’s about touching someone. Feel their crotch, slide your hand under their clothes, grinding against them to the point of torture sometimes. That’s when the best sex happens.”
Harry nodded. “Take it you’re a big fan of foreplay.”
“The biggest.”
“Feel like I’m in good hands, then.”
“Figuratively and literally.”
He smiled.
“If you matched me on Tinder, and we were about to shag-“
“-I actually don’t think I’ve ever been on Tinder.”
Y/N blinked. “That’s not a flex.”
“Have you?”
“Yes,” she said. “I’ve got the app on my phone.”
“Wicked, you’ve got to show me then.”
She smiled, inhaling slowly. “I will. But first, let’s-“
However, fantastically, Harry took Y/N’s face in his hands and brought her to him. Before Y/N managed to finish her statement, they were kissing. The familiar feeling of Harry’s lips on hers made her previously tense shoulders relax considerably, making her involuntarily moan onto his lips. Harry kissed her more fiercely at the sound, moving closer so it would be easier for him to wrap his arms around her. She fell back onto the bed, crawling backward, and Harry crawled after her, settling himself so easily between her legs that it felt like the most natural thing in the world.
The ease at which they were doing this felt reassuring, like a good hug after a stressful day. She trusted that Harry knew what he was supposed to do, that he remembered from last time. And oh, did he remember.
She felt his hand slide down her front, laying the smallest amount of pressure on her breast, and Y/N realised with a suddenness that almost made her gasp; Harry was trying to tease her. His fingers slid over her, never laying his entire palm down against besides that grip of her boob, but besides that, he was touching her as lightly as possible, leaving Y/N’s body aching in its waking.
“Where’d you learn that?” she asked between kisses.
“What?”
“The teasing.”
She felt him grin against her. “Do you really want me to tell you?”
“Surprisingly enough.”
He chuckled. “Well,” he trailed off, looking down at the duvet beside her face. “The internet.”
Y/N felt herself halt a bit, looking at Harry as he refused to still meet her eyes. “You’ve been searching around?”
“About sex, yes.”
The corners of her mouth lifted. “Really?”
“How many times do you want me to admit it?”
She giggled. “Harry, it’s not something to be embarrassed about.”
“I think it is.”
“No, it just shows how dedicated you are to this. Which is anything but embarrassing.” She tried to catch his eyes. “It’s actually rather sweet.”
He met her gaze then, staring at her for a long while as if he could not quite believe what she had just told him. “You think?”
“You think I would’ve said it if I thought otherwise?”
Harry chuckled. “True.”
She smiled, arching her back a little so her tits were pressed against his chest. Harry bit his bottom lip, looking down at her front as she lowered herself down onto the mattress again. Raising her eyebrows, she watched as Harry took in her tits again, looking over at her with anticipation etched into his irises.
“I’m trying to silently tell you to kiss me again,” she said.
“Oh!” Harry exclaimed, bending down over her again. “Right.”
“Other’s might not do that, they might tell you, or maybe even expect you to do so. So, try and decipher what that person needs, what they want.” She settled herself into her duvet cover, Harry sinking further in between her legs as she wriggled her hips ever so slightly. His lips parted, both plump and swollen from kissing.
“What do I do if they don’t say anything?” Harry asked, lips hovering above hers. God, how she just wanted him to kiss her.
“Communicate. You can’t expect someone to know you and your needs right off the bat, people are different.”
“Right,” Harry said, sliding his nose against hers.
“And now I would really like it if you kissed me,” Y/N whispered against Harry’s lips, making Harry grip onto the duvet cover above Y/N’s head. Fiercely, he pressed his lips against her, slowly sliding his tongue into her mouth, making all kinds of shivers run up and down her body. Even after just one time, Harry knew certain buttons of hers that he had to push in order to get a reaction out of her. She wondered how long Harry had gone out with his previous partners for them to give up on him so quickly. If they had just shown him what they liked, if they had just explored, then Harry would have been a decent lover. He was so incredibly willing to learn new things that it was almost ridiculous. How had they just broken things off like that? If they had just been a little more patient, then Harry would have genuinely surprised them.
On the other hand, he had not actually showed her how bad he was in bed, like he was making it out to be, which could truly be the game changer.
Regardless, in that second, Y/N did not care about Harry’s skills in bed, instead she focused on how they worked outside the context of sex. They were just making out now, just checking each other out, trying to think about various ways to touch the other in order to turn them on.
One of Harry’s hands rested at Y/N’s knee, bringing it further up her chest so he could get a bit better access. She moaned as she felt his already hardening erection against her, instant wetness pooling between her legs. Her grip on his shirt tightened and she felt her nails dig into his skin under his shirt, urging him to continue doing what he was doing. Just like she had shown him last time, Harry grinded against her, doing it slowly and rubbing himself very deliberately against her for his own pleasure, but also trying to make sure she enjoyed it. The desire that ran up her spine was undeniable, making all hair on her body stand on end. His hardness grinded against her wetness again, the both of them moaning at the same time, losing themselves completely in one another.
Harry’s hand ran down Y/N’s thigh, coming to rest at her belly, slowly making its way to her very centre. She felt a yearning so intense it had to radiate off of her, engulfing her and Harry. Halting a bit, Harry’s fingers seemed to retract a bit, unsure if this was somewhere Y/N did not want him to venture or it if was encouraged. Instead of asking her, like she emboldened him to do multiple times, he traced the same path back up her belly, going to grab her breast again.
Y/N made a noise of protest, taking Harry’s wrist in her hand. She could feel Harry’s eyelashes flutter open against her own, and she opened her own eyes, detaching their lips. Slowly, she slid his hand down the way it had just come, making him lay as little pressure on her as he slid his hand down in order to tease as much as possible. Personally, she hated when someone would tease her because it only made her want sex even more than she already did, making her hungrier and more desperate than she would like, but it also made for the best shags. Teasing and dragging out, being needy for one another, was what created the best action when you finally had sex.
As they were just above her centre, she led his hand to her inner thigh, urging his fingers to trace along the skin of one of her most delicate places. Harry looked down between them, eager to follow along with what she did in any way he could. With care and maybe a little too much roughness, she made him grab her, at once showing how he would cherish her but at the same time make her squirm for more when the time came. Though Y/N was doing it herself, it was Harry’s hand that touched her, that made her entire body vibrate with expectancy. She bit her bottom lip, eyes not wavering from his face.
Slowly, his pinky came into contact with her centre, then his ring finger, middle, index, and lastly, his thumb. Each felt like a firework, reverberating through Y/N’s body and lighting her core on fire. It had been a while since someone had touched her with so much consideration, so patiently. Harry’s eagerness to please her, even though she was the one that showed him how to touch her, made her even hotter for him, if that was possible. With ease, she put her hand over his, putting extra pressure on his hand now and a little extra on his middle finger, she dragged his hand over her covered up cunt. A small gasp left her lips, eyelashes fluttering slightly. Harry looked up at her instantly, lips parting as his eyes scanned her face, ready to take in each one of her features when she laid under him like this. She did it again, this time putting a little more pressure at the very top of her centre, making a spark flood from her clit and out to the very tips of her fingers. This made her moan, involuntarily arching her back just a little at the sudden flash.
“Now you go,” she whispered, their eyes not wavering from one another.
Harry nodded, looking down between them at where his hand rested in her like that and then her removing his hand, letting him either mimic her moves or do something different. He watched his hand at first as it slid over her, putting that extra amount of pressure at her bud, making her gasp for breath. His eyes landed on her face again, eyes intent on her as he did it again, this time inhaling sharply as she moaned under him, of his doing.
“Just like that,” she encouraged, voice half moan and half mumble.
Harry did it again, earning the same reaction from her, his breath coming out all shaky, as if he could not quite believe he had this effect on her.
“You look bewildered,” Y/N said, trying not to laugh.
“I always thought that touching someone like that would be a little much too soon. Would you not rather I touched your cunt when we’re naked and about to have sex?”
“Yes, of course,” Y/N said, regaining her breath. “But you’re showing me what you’ll do to me when we actually get naked. Teasing can be pure torture, but it’s what makes the reward so much better when we actually fuck.”
Harry nodded, his already red cheeks reddening considerably. “Alright.”
Y/N smiled. “What?”
“I guess I… I’m not used to being…” Harry sighed, looking away from her and at his hand fisted in the sheets. “It’s vulgar.”
“What?” She raised her eyebrows at him. “Touching me?”
“No, touching like that. Grabbing someone through their clothes, touching your cunt like that.”
Y/N smiled again. “I can tell by the way you’re whispering the word that you’re uncomfortable.”
“I’m not uncomfortable, it’s just a new way of having sex, I guess.” Harry blinked. “Also, what word do I whisper?”
“Cunt.”
“Oh.” Harry met her eyes again. “Yeah.”
“Why?”
“It’s… vulgar.”
“It’s dirty,” Y/N said. “Not my cunt,-“ Harry laughed at that. “-but the word. Saying it, especially in this setting, is hot.”
“You like dirty talk?”
“When it’s done right. When it’s not, it can really ruin whatever’s going on.”
“Oh, right,” Harry said, nodding slightly. “There’s a balance.”
“Exactly,” Y/N smiled. “Annalise told me about this time she had sex with an American, like proper southern American.”
Harry chuckled a little at just that.
“And they were in doggy, so she asked him to grab her hair, and-“
“-Do you like that?” Harry asked rather quickly, as if the question had occurred to him on the spot and he had been unable to stop himself from asking.
“What, having my hair pulled?”
Harry nodded.
“Dunno, haven’t really tried it.”
Harry smirked, and Y/N could already see what he was thinking. She only rolled her eyes and continued on with the story, the bulge of Harry’s trousers pressing against Y/N’s centre.
“Anyway, she asked him to pull her hair, and if you, like, grab it with one hand, that’s hot and feels good, but if you grab it with two, if feels more like you’re trying to ride a horse.”
Harry chuckled.
“And while this man was holding Annalise’s hair with both hands, he just said ‘Easy, girl’ and this southern accent, and it sounded fully like he was trying to calm a horse down.” Y/N suspected that Harry was laughing more at Y/N’s attempt at a southern American accent than the actual story, but seeing him howling on top of her, burying his face in her neck to laugh some more there, made it impossible for her to even finish the story. They laid like that for a little while, just laughing and bathing in each other’s presence. It took a while for them to look at one another again, smiling when they remembered how ridiculous Y/N had sounded and how this all happened in the middle of a rather heated moment.
“Okay, let’s move on,” she said, making Harry chuckle some more.
“Right, what’s next?”
Y/N pushed him off her and down onto the bed beside her, quickly straddling him. She leaned down, kissing him hard, having missed the feel of his lips in the few seconds they hadn’t been touching hers. Harry’s hands fell to her bum, pushing her down onto his hard cock, Y/N instantly reacting by letting go of a small groan. He knew what to do now, how to handle her with care, but also make sure to let her know who was in control. Well, kind of, anyway. She was certainly the one with the most control out of the two of them.
She started grinding against him, sliding her hot core over his erection, a shock of pleasure running up to her chest, heating up her entire body. Harry must have felt something similar because he moaned into her mouth, his grip on her arse hardening along with his cock. She did just that again and again, feeling him become more desperate under her, grabbing onto her thighs and arse, one hand holding onto her neck to keep her lips on him. She felt herself get more needy as well, suddenly wanting to feel that release she had told the both of them that they would not be chasing today. However, when she was this wet and he was this hard, both of them clawing, gripping, and moaning at each other, it was very hard to remember what they had agreed upon earlier.
“Do you want to be in control?” she mumbled against his lips, a shaky breath leaving Harry’s lips.
“Show me how,” he said, panting just like she was.
She took his hands, putting them above Harry’s head. “Keep them there,” she said. “Don’t move.”
“What happens if I do?”
“I’ll have to punish you.”
A breath left Harry’s lips; his eyes filled with lust as he looked up at her. He only nodded, looking absolutely entranced by her. Y/N pressed a kiss to Harry’s jaw, then another one to his neck, then the front of his collarbone, feeling him squirm beneath her as she did. The need to have his hands on her, to make her grind against him to feel something, was clearly an instinct that was hard for him to fight.
“Lay still,” she urged him as her hands found the collar of his shirt, fingers sliding over his exposed skin until they came into contact with the button that kept his beautiful chest from being bare.
Slowly, she unbuttoned his shirt. She kissed down his now exposed chest, making her way down his torso until she was by his navel. Untucking the shirt, she undid the last button before pushing the fabric to each side, baring his chest to her. The red dragon on his right back and the black on his left were finally right there. The tattoos she had been thinking about for so long now, finally right in front of her. She made her way up to them, tracing her finger from the head of the red dragon that almost reached Harry’s collarbone and down in a circle and some waves before reaching the tail that ended up right beside his nipple. The black one did only slither to create one wave along its long and slim figure, but its wings were bigger, almost reaching Harry’s left shoulder, while the pointy tail came to rest just beside his nipple. Y/N could not explain how attractive she found his tattoos, especially these ones. Harry must have the exact same taste in tattoos as her, something that made her very happy about their little deal.
When she settled over his crotch again, his erection was even more prominent than before, the hardness feeling absolutely fantastic against her warm cunt. She put her hands on his knees behind her, slowly beginning to grind against Harry again. He craned his neck, lips parting as some slight release washed over the both of them. Dutifully, his hands still laid above his head where she had left them, where she hard ordered him to keep them. The sight of him displayed like that, all hers and trembling underneath her while she teased him, was maybe one of the hottest sights she had ever laid her eyes upon.
He looked up at her, eyes wild and bottom lip all dark pink from him having bitten it so hard while she had kissed her way down his chest. Their eyes locked, and Y/N could tell Harry wanted to grab her, to hold her to some extent. She recognised now that Harry liked holding her when they were like this. If they were getting things going, it seemed out of the question if he was not touching her to some extent.
Which must have been why he finally snapped, sitting up and taking a grip of her waist. Y/N exhaled sharply when Harry turned them around, making her back come into contact with the mattress again. Harry held onto her knee again before letting his hand trail up her side, the other one taking her hand in his, resting their intwined fingers above Y/N’s head as they started kissing again. Finally between her legs again, Harry started sliding over her again, this time his movements had a little more force behind them. She felt it in her toes, the heat in her core growing with each stroke. Bloody hell, she just wanted to fuck him right then. Harry had truly proven to her that he knew how foreplay worked, how incredibly important it was. Though he was the most impatient person she knew, he truly seemed to be enjoying himself when they teased each other like this.
Maybe, like her, he enjoyed the power it brought. You truly felt so powerful, so potent, so paramount, when you could make someone tremble at your touch.
Harry’s movements grew more frantic, his hands grabbing at her harder, and she felt her own nails dig into his flesh, begging him for more. Suddenly, without much warning, Harry got up from between her legs, and then made her turn over so she was on her stomach. This took Y/N completely off guard, but she welcomed the change, welcomed him trying something new and taking control. After all, that was what he wanted to learn how to do, how to become confident enough to order someone around in bed without thinking he was disrespecting them and their bodies.
Harry came to rest on top of her, his hand sliding from the rolls at her sides and up to her shoulder where he slowly traced his way to her neck. There, he took a light grip of her, bending down so that they could both feel his erection between her arse cheeks. Y/N closed her eyes at the sensation, feeling a very welcome chill run up her spine out of pure excitement. He stayed there, kissing her shoulder, her neck, breathing against her skin and making Y/N hyper aware of each one of his movements.
Because he remained immobile, she arched her back and lifted her bum ever so slightly off the bed. She pushed herself against him, then move her arse against him, wanting to feel some kind of friction even though it was barely existent on her part. Harry drew in a sharp breath and moaned instantly, holding onto Y/N’s neck with one hand while the other held him upright on the mattress. She continued to move over him and Harry grinded against her. Harry’s breaths came out quicker, slight whimpers leaving his swollen lips, vibrating against Y/N’s skin. It had certainly not been the point, but as Y/N understood what was going to happen, she just continued to rub herself against him, and Harry did the same.
His grip on her loosened and he put his hands on either side of her hips, moaning and panting and whimpering as he grinded against her. Suddenly, he jerked, and he gripped Y/N’s hips tight, trying to move against her, but he only managed to move in jagged motions. He came as Y/N slid her bum over him, feeling his cock move with each squirt inside his boxer, pulsating against the fabric; against her. Harry stayed like that over Y/N, and when she looked over her shoulder, it looked like he did not know what has just happened. After all, they weren’t supposed to do anything, really. They were just supposed to make out. And yet…
“In an ideal situation,” Y/N said. “You start having sex before that happens.”
Harry met her eyes, laughing loudly along with her. He fell down onto the bed beside her and she turned to lay on her back as well, both just looking up at the ceiling of Y/N’s bedroom.
“Note to self,” Harry said, still coming down from what had just happened, panting slightly. “Don’t come during foreplay.”
Y/N laughed, and Harry looked at her with the biggest grin on his face. “Add that to the list of everything else I’ve taught you, and you’ll be good for when we have sex.”
Harry chuckled, looking up at the ceiling again. “Tattoo appointment when we get back in September, then?”
She nodded, sitting up in bed. “Yeah, it’ll give me enough time to think about what I want tattooed.”
Harry sat up as well. “Imagine I’ll have a few more tattoos as well.”
“You’ll be working at Asgard this summer?”
“Yeah,” Harry said. “I’ll just either live here or at my mum’s, visit my dad a bit.” He shrugged. “But I have a tattoo gun so I’ll just do it at home, don’t need to be there unless I want some ink a place I can’t reach properly myself.”
Y/N’s heart stopped a little. “You have a tattoo machine here?”
Harry studied her face, a small grin appearing over his face. “Yeah. Your fanny fluttering at the thought?”
She slapped him across his still exposed chest; Harry laughed. “You know what, just leave. I need to finish packing.”
Harry grinned, getting up from the bed as he started buttoning up his shirt again, looking around Y/N’s room as he made his way for the door. “Will you miss London while you’re away?”
Y/N glanced around at her room, taking in the four walls she had spent so much time within during her first year of University. It did not seem real that she would be in Nottingham over the next four months, that she would go back to living with her parents for the time being until uni started back up again in September. Her first year had gone by so quickly, it did not seem real that it was coming to a close. She could not believe that it had almost been a year since she moved to London, since she med Chloe, Thian, Hayden, and Annalise, since she started working at Domino’s. It at once felt like ages ago, yet it also felt like it all happened last month. She remembered everything in vivid detail, and knew she would probably remember her uni years that clearly for eternity. So far, it had been the best time of her life.
She nodded her head, looking back over at Harry again. “I’ll miss it. But I’ll be back in September to pester you another year.”
Harry grinned. “Good, almost thought you would stop bullying me by the time we get back.”
“No, don’t you worry,” she said, smiling. “The bullying won’t stop for the world.”
Harry tucked his hands into his trouser pockets, whipping a curl out of his face as he said, “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Friday, 17 May 2018
“Happy birthday!” Hayden screamed when Y/N answered their FaceTime call, their hands over their head and their short hair an absolute mess. They dropped their phone onto their bed, only to appear a second later with a red party hat on their head, waving it in front of the camera.
Y/N laughed. “Thanks, mate.”
“What’re you up to today?” Hayden asked, leaning back against their headrest.
“Well, since I’ve already been awake three hours, I have been up to quite a lot, actually.”
It was Hayden’s turn to laugh now. “What’s that then?”
“Pai and I made some pão na chapa, which is essentially skillet toasted French bread rolls, for breakfast, nothing extravagant. Then we went to pick up a cake that mum’s had made for the occasion, and then mum took me shopping for some new clothes. Just got home,” Y/N explained. “But we’re having a big lunch later with our entire family and we’ll serve a big dinner then.”
“Sounds like a very you birthday.”
“Good thing it’s my birthday, then.”
Hayden laughed, leaning their head back against the wall and forgetting about their birthday hat, making the string snap off their chin and the hat fall off their head. Y/N chuckled as she sat down in her bed as well, looking over at her window to see if it was closed or not. Her papai must have opened it while her and her mum were out shopping. Y/N quickly walked over to close it, but then a breeze came in through the small slit, cooling her down in what had already been the starts to a very hot mid-May day. She left it open.
“I wanted to ask you about something,” Hayden said, throwing the party hat away somewhere in their room.
“Yeah?”
“What do you want for your birthday? Like, is there a specific birthday present you’d want from say…” They shrugged. “Me, Thian, Annalise, and Chloe.”
Y/N smiled. “You’re getting me a birthday present, are you?”
“Of course!” Hayden said, sounding shocked. “You’re our mate! Now, what do you want? It can be anything.”
“Anything?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm.” Y/N thought for a second, sitting back down on her bed. “Maybe like concert tickets, but not expensive ones for like a popular band. Maybe for a more lowkey one, one where tickets aren’t super expensive, and we can all go.”
Hayden nodded. “That sounds like so much fun, though. Just the gang, and your flat, of course.”
Y/N smiled. Someone shouted something in the back of Hayden’s end of the call, making them groan loudly before rolling their eyes.
“Right, my mum needs me to come downstairs. But,” Hayden said, getting out of bed, stepping on the party hat and crushing it under their weight. A stream of curse words left their lips before they bent down to retrieve it, showing it to Y/N before throwing it away in the bin. “We’ll bake a cake when we see each other this summer, okay?”
Y/N’s smile widened. “I’d love that.”
“Good, ‘cause we’re baking a cake when we see each other this summer.”
Y/N giggled. “Your mum gonna kill you or something?”
“Think she’s just realised I’ve raided the cupboard of Digestives.”
Y/N laughed.
“I’ll talk to you later, yeah?” Hayden smiled, waving at the screen.
“Yeah, yeah,” Y/N said. “Hope you survive your mum’s wrath.”
“Doubt it.”
Y/N smiled, waving at the screen before they both hung up. A knock sounded at Y/N’s door a second later and then her mother walked into her room, smiling at her. She held a white envelope in her hand, holding it out for Y/N to take.
“You’ve got post, my dove.”
Y/N halted a little, unsure of who could possibly want to contact her through post. Lottie walked back out the door, leaving it open as she walked back downstairs, Davi’s singing sounding from the kitchen as he prepared everything for lunch. Y/N sat back down in her bed, studying the envelope in her hands closely. She thought she recognised the handwriting at the front of the envelope that spelled out her full name and her Nottingham address under it rather perfectly. As she turned the letter around to see the return address on the flap of the envelope, she realised why.
13 Dovecote Close, Princes Risborough, Buckinghamshire, HP27 9JU. Harry E. Styles.
She bit her lips together, already feeling the oncoming grin tugging at the edges of her lips. She should not have put it past Harry to do something for her birthday, this was just like him, to go out of his way and send her something in the post rather than just give it to her while they were both still under the same roof the week previous. Y/N opened it, peeking inside to see two different notes, reminding her an awful lot of the ones she slid under his door to set up a time for their little sessions. She reached in, pulling one of the two out.
Happy birthday, Y/N. Turn this around to see what I think your next tattoo should be.
She did, only to find herself laughing instantly. A heart was drawn on the other side, ‘Harry’ written in magnificent handwriting inside it. She let her finger trace the letters, imagining how smug Harry would have looked drawing this, knowing exactly the kind of reaction he would conjure up out of her. Chuckling still, she reached into the envelope and pulled out the second and last note.
And here’s something I actually think you would like.
Turning this one around, she found a drawing that took her breath away instantly. With black wings spread wide, almost glittering in the light that was supposed to shine on them, a crow was drawn in vivid detail on the other side. It looked strong, terrifying, even, staring straight back at her with an intensity and intellect only crows managed, as if they knew all your secrets and weren’t afraid to tell them to the wind, letting them carry through the world. Y/N ran a finger over the crow, feeling very overwhelmed all of a sudden. She had not expected him to draw something for her that he thought she would like tattooed on her body forever, yet here he was. It was the most beautiful thing Y/N had ever seen, and she wondered what had made him draw it.
Y/N awoke gradually, suddenly realising with slow efficiency that she was awake. Her room was draped in complete darkness, the streetlamp outside her window having been turned off for the night. Her eyes focused on her door for no particular reason, zoning in and out of what was going on, part of her thinking it was a dream while the other told her she was awake. Once she realised this was indeed reality, she tried closing her eyes again, readjusting the placement of her head against her pillow, tucking the duvet up to her skin.
A car drove by. Y/N’s eyes shot open. The car sounded closer, as if she had just stood outside, and she quickly realised why that was. Y/N had not slept with her window open since before Marcela disappeared, not in this house. Preferring to keep it closed, it felt safer that way. No spirits, no people, nothing, could sneak in through a closed window.
But as she heard footsteps outside, as if someone was walking hurriedly by her house, Y/N knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that her window was open. Wide open. It had not been that open since the night before Marcela was declared murdered. Grabbing onto her duvet, Y/N looked in the direction of the window only to confirm what she had been thinking. There her window was, the blinds open, open to let all the air, everything, inside. She wanted to get out of bed and close it, but her legs were locked to her bed, her limbs felt too heavy, too unsteady, for her to walk on right now. She had to calm down, blame it on her not closing her window earlier that day after talking to Hayden. That was it. It was the draught.
If she could just reach for her phone, she could call her mother and ask her to come into her room and close the door. Maybe she could check under her bed as well to make sure no one had gotten into her room in the time the window had been wide open. Y/N’s room was on the first storey, so it would be difficult to get in through her window, but she was also paranoid beyond belief.
Out of the corner of her eye, Y/N saw movement. A stupid sense of relief washed over Y/N, thinking that maybe Lottie had come to check up on her. But no, it was not her mum. Averting her eyes from the window, Y/N looked to the end of her bed, feeling her heart stop beating. Her body lay still for a few seconds until she suddenly started shaking. It was not violently, but uncontrollable. She gripped into her duvet even harder, telling herself over and over again that this was not real.
Not real. Not real. Not real. This is just a dream; you are just having a nightmare. Close your eyes. Go back to sleep.
And Y/N tried. She closed her eyes, telling herself that this was just a figment of her idiotic imagination. Whatever she had just seen was not real, it couldn’t be. However, falling asleep when you had just seen your dead sister standing at the foot of your bed was hard.
Y/N opened her eyes, feeling a small whimper leave her lips out of pure fear. Even though she could barely see without her glasses, she still saw that. Marcela looked at Y/N with an eerie sort of passiveness, eyes resting emotionlessly on her younger sister as she shook with fear in her bed. The only way Y/N could tell it was her sister was by the slight light that came naturally from the night beyond, only illuminating half of her dead sister’s form. She did not look dead. In fact, her sister had to be a hallucination. She looked like Marcela, yet she did not. It was strange, almost devilish. She wore the exact same outfit as the last time Y/N had seen her, a floral dress and her denim jacket. A tiny smile rested on her lips, but not one Y/N had ever seen before. There was absolutely zero joy behind it. It rather looked like she was smiling for the sake of smiling. As if to ease the nerves of a terrified deer before she attacked to devour every last bit of her prey.
“M-Mari?” Y/N croaked, still unable to move.
Marcela only cocked her head to the side, still smiling that bizarre smile, making her face appear uncanny. Slowly, she raised her left hand. Y/N felt herself shrink behind her duvet. Marcela’s eyes fell onto her wrist, and when Y/N looked, she felt herself draw in a shaky breath. Marcela looked up at Y/N again, that uncanny smile still lingering on her lips as her hand fall to her side again. Slowly, Marcela walked backward towards Y/N’s door, opening it just barely. Moving out of the light of the open window, Marcela looked like a ghost. Black like complete darkness, moving unseen and transparent towards the door. Keeping her eyes on Y/N the entire way, she stepped outside. The door closed just as gradually as Marcela had walked, barely audible as it clicked into place.
Though she was trembling, Y/N removed her duvet, put her glasses on, and shakily made her way towards her door. She walked around the spot the hallucination of Marcela had just been standing, refusing to be near it. Carefully, she laid a hand on her door handle, it felt cool to the touch. As if no one had touched it a mere minute ago. Or that person had been very cold. Slowly, she opened the door, looking out into the hallway beyond. No one was there. Not a trace, not a sound.
Y/N had a hard time falling asleep, and when she woke up at 6 the next morning, it barely felt like she had gotten any rest at all. However, she wasted no time. She got dressed as quickly as she could, put some contacts in, and sent a text to her parents that she was out and about. With some breakfast in hand, Y/N drove as fast as she could. There weren’t too many out driving now, but she knew that she would be spending a lot of times in queues the closer she got to the capital. She zoomed down the motorway, not paying any attention to anything but the road ahead. Whenever she went on drives like this, she would need to have some of her own music playing in the background so she could jam out. Music could wait right now, because there was something she needed to check. Something that could simply not wait.
Once she reached the outskirts of London, the traffic was horrendous, making Y/N bite her nails as anxiety and stress started eating at every single one of her limbs. Though it took a decent amount of time to get into London by normal standards, Y/N still felt like that hour and some was the longest of her life. When she finally reached Hackney, Y/N felt her anxiety ebb just slight away. Driving in London was ridiculous, but at least she knew the streets near her well and could take some small and less busy shortcuts.
On Orsman Road, Y/N jumped out of her car and ran for the flat building’s front door. Then, after unlocking it, ran for her flat, and unlocked that front door too before sprinting for her room. The entire flat was empty, no one but her were there, which almost made it wrong for her to be there, it felt like. This was supposed to be a place she shared with Harry, Nathan, and Mason. Not someplace to run through, anxiety high, pulse higher, to get to her room as fast as possible.
She burst through her door and looked at her desk, trying to calm her breathing down as the sight in front of her dawned on her. With clammy hands, she rubbed at her eyes, maybe that would help her see more clearly. But it made no difference. She walked over to her desk then, throwing the books on her bed and putting the mug filled with pens on her dresser as she searched everywhere. But it was of no use. None at all. The watch was gone.
This is what I imagine Harry’s crow painting to look like btw!
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RINTOBER : [ forbidden fruit ]
suna rintarō x reader
word count: 2,418
tags: NSFW, GOD COMPLEX, SACRILEGIOUS, power play (?), degradation, choking, momentary exhibitionism(?), size kink(?)
a/n: thank you to my precious wife @toffees-main for proofreading this for me and for first, urging me to actually write it when i was brainrotting again lmao. also, i figured this would be good for rintober! so here it is.
Neither you nor your boyfriend, Suna Rintarō, knew what had cut the knot that tied his self-control together. Perhaps it was the raven colored silk fabric that had adored your body for the night, or the sheer white and lacy panties that you had paired with it in contrast—the one he watched you slipped on as you got dressed for this very event.
Watching as you did so had his breath hitching, "Bunny," he even groaned. He was as deadpanned as they came but you were an often exception to this; you and the way you looked at him, made him feel, writhed from underneath him, to the way you'd moan into his ear with repetitive, blabbered nonsense; all of it just meaning and begging him for more, more, more.
The venue was littered with pro athletes like Suna and businessmen who had their names adorned with brands and companies they owned, sponsoring teams and individual athletes alike; usually, one would assume that Suna Rintarō would be the eye candy in these events—and he is—it's simply that right now, you looked more enticing than the forbidden fruit that Adam and Eve had sinfully indulged in from the beginning of time.
With the dress shining as you moved, scatteredly placed lights affecting how it accentuated your figure, you truly were a sight to behold, glowing like an angel, and the eyes that followed you knew.
Perhaps it was the way Suna didn't know what to do from the moment the both of you had stepped out of the limousine to the very last second that the two of you had stayed in that godforsaken party, only three hours later; in what seemed to be longest three hours of his life, he was in the constant state of either threatening other men who were nowhere near ashamed with the way they gawked at you and eyed you like a hawk as if you were a prize to be won in an illegal auction or staring at you and how your dress danced with every dip of your body.
It especially didn't help how you looked back at him, eyes swimming with neediness, your touch never once leaving his body. At first, you were convinced it was the nerves—you're nervous, this is the first time you'd gone to such a high-end event that never ran short with big names, important people, huge companies—that's why your tight grip on his upper arm wouldn’t leave for even a second as if you'd get lost with no idea how to find your way back to him. Though, it didn't take long for you to figure out that while yes, you're nervous, you also can't get enough of watching the way Suna's muscles flexed through the suit he had on with every movement he made, or the way his fox-like eyes looked down on you with so much want, nor can you get enough with the way he'd subconsciously pull your body closer to him for whatever reason you didn't have the liberty to ponder on about.
It could even be the way he felt how drenched you were when he had sat you on his lap in one of the corners of the venue just to take a little break from all the socialization. How he had rubbed his hand up and down your waist before tugging you to the corner, his lips latching on to the skin where your neck and shoulder met with a harsh suck—an immediate sigh of relief escaping past your lips as he did so. After all, it's high time he stakes an even more evident claim on you, right? It's not like you minded how he was littering the visible parts of your neck and chest with lovebites, especially when his hand was snaking its way underneath your dress, caressing your inner thighs and ghosting over the oh so wet patch of your underwear.
“Please,” you whined, grinding yourself against him, desperate for some sort of friction that would ease the aching need you had to just let him bend you over to fuck you.
Maybe it was how you were possibly staining his slacks with your slick as you grinded against him, how he was practically claiming you right in that very public venue, and how you begged for him is what made him indulge in your pleas. You held your breath in anticipation as you feel his finger move your panties to the side—and as the boyfriend who just knew you through and through, he kisses you to silence the moan that you let out the moment his finger traced the line along your slit, rubbing your clit before easing his fingers inside you without any resistance.
God, it was almost shameful how dripping wet you were for him. Only almost, though, because the only thing that truly mattered was the approving hum he'd let out, vibrating against the hand you had placed against his chest. When Suna adds another finger, curling it to hit that spongy, sweet spot, it takes all your willpower not to clasp your legs together and just beg for him to take you right there—something you're sure he wouldn't be too opposed to if the tent in his pants poking your ass would be anything to go by.
When he pulls his fingers out, glistening with your wetness under the glow of the place, your face flushes.
"Clean it up, bunny," he whispers to your ear, and his voice is husky; it was unfair, his voice alone sounded seducing and you were nearly mindless to just how aroused you were.
Suna Rintarō is like sin. The sweetest, most delicious, addicting sin. You know this and you're almost sure Suna does, too. He was temptation—the snake and the forbidden fruit molded into one, perfect being; and you were no people pleaser, but it's always a different case when it comes to Suna. If it pleased him, you'd do it in a heartbeat.
So you do as you're told, like a good bunny, Suna would say. You wrap your lips around his fingers, tasting yourself as you bob your head from the base to his fingertips. Suna looks calm as ever but you know better with the rapid beat of his heart against his chest, its every skip echoing to your hand.
You let his fingers go from your mouth with a pop, "All clean, sir," you tell him, eyes wide, pupils blown out with lust. Suna places a kiss to your forehead, murmuring, "That's a good bunny."
It was a shame the marks Suna had littered all over you did nothing to keep the predator-like gaze that fell over you once the both of you came back. What was it? Did he have to fuck you mindless in front of them to get the message across?
The last straw was the man who approached you. You, specifically—not even sparing Suna a glance as he stopped at nothing with his attempts to flirt with you. Suna lets you handle it as he stood next to you, his arm still around your waist protectively as one of EJP Raijin's sponsors talked his ear off. You're a big girl and it was a lot more satisfying to tell other men off on your own.
"I have a modeling company as well, we'd be happy to have a beauty like you there. I personally would—"
There's a polite yet nearly deadly smile you pull off when you say, "I'm not interested," and you tell him this dead in the eye, without waver.
"C'mon darling, I'd love to have you—"
"And what you think doesn't matter to me, I don't care," you continue with a smile that should've told him it was really time to back out. It was such a shame it didn't, as the man reaches out to take your wrist.
Quick as the man had your wrist in his grasp, was as quick did Suna had the man's arm bent painfully to his back, Suna's expressionless eyes looking down at the man with such distaste. He didn't need to waste his breath to say the man was a scum of the earth, absolutely worthless, lesser than the gum on his shoe.
"She already told you to fuck off, didn't she?"
Suna Rintarō really was beyond the description of words. The way Suna towered over the man who couldn't take no for an answer, who winced at the death grip his bent arm was subjected to, who was now babbling apologies—hell, it made you press your thighs together.
It was your luck you didn't need to wait any longer after that.
Suna had your face shoved into the mattress, your ass up and cunt dripping as it clenched around nothing. You swore you were about to cry with how much you just wanted him to fuck you without reservation, as if all you were to him was a fuckdoll to use and nothing more, so when you feel him lick up a stripe along your slit, you whine.
"Rin, no, please, need your cock now, please," you beg, and he chuckles at you, but it's dark, like he's telling you what a pathetic little whore you were to be begging for him like that.
But since you are his precious bunny afterall, he'll indulge in your wants; he lines up the head of his cock to your entrance, and when he's pushed it in, your thighs are already trembling as you cream around it instantaneously—pleased at the feeling of finally having his thick cock easing into you.
"Such a slut, bunny, cumming just from me putting it in," He says before his voice lowers and he tells you, "Gonna fuck you dumb, baby."
His hips snap, completely sheathing into your velvet walls that clenched around him as if you didn't want him to go. He doesn't miss a beat though, he's immediately rutting into you at an unforgiving pace.
"Oh fuck, Rin, s-so deep, slow d—"
"Don't care, bunny, 's what you wanted, wasn't it? So be a good girl and take it."
You know you're moaning, but you don't know what words were coming out of your mouth anymore, all you knew was the sensation of Suna and his thick cock stretching your little cunny out, rearranging your insides.
"Awww—fuck, bunny gone dumb so quickly?"
When he thrusts into you in such a way that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head, you scream, "God, fuck, god, yes! god yes!"
That's what halts Suna's thrusts, it helps you come to your senses a little bit as you try your best to look back at him, confused why he stopped.
"What did you just call me, you desperate cock whore?" Suddenly, he sounded way more dominating than usual, way more intimidating, it made you feel so much smaller in comparison.
You wish you can answer him, but you can't—all you knew was the overwhelming pleasure you were swimming in. You shake your head the best you can, "D-don't know, Rin," you sob as you feel him slip out of you.
Suna flips you over to your back, the way he's staring down at you is making you completely breathless, and you—you were glowing like an angel, like you were at the party earlier. Only now, your hair was sprawled out into the bed, your skin littered with the marks he made, and your face—beautiful in the most erotic, sinful of ways; tear-stained cheeks, eyes half lidded gazing up to him in complete submission and lips parted.
He presses one of your legs to your chest, the other spread open for him as he lines himself to your sopping entrance again, "You called me your god, dumb bitch," he said as he pounds into you completely—so particularly deep that it had your mind reeling.
You feel Suna's large hand wrap around your throat, squeezing, "You worship me that much, bunny? Such a devoted little whore for your god, always lettin' me use you as I please, hm?" he says as he regains his brutal pace, you're not even sure how many times you've cum on his cock at this point, all you know is that you're clenching around him, sucking him in with every merciless thrust.
When you don't answer, mind too hazy and completely dazed, Suna tightens his grip around your throat, "When your god asks you a question, you fucking answer, yea? Or is this all you're good for? A body for the god you worship so much to fuck?"
"Ah—yes! You're my god. Nngh—please, god, please, I'm so close," you sob, you're looking at him with so much desperation as he continues to fuck you, your nails digging into his arms as you try to take each of his harsh pounding. Suna likes you like this—completely untethered for him and him alone.
Suna was your god, the only one who can make you feel like this, as if you're in heaven with nothing but bliss, nothing but pleasure.
"You are, aren't you? My own whore made just for her god—for me," his thick length that was twitching inside you and the dirty words coming from him were putting your senses into complete overdrive. The tip of his cock was kissing your cervix, it was nearly painful if it wasn't for the sensation of his hand around your throat and the delicious way his dick was stroking your walls in all the right ways.
You nod desperately as you feel your orgasm nearly at the brink, you're sobbing with each time he fucks into you, "Yes! God, please—let me cum, god, please, please, please," you beg, you repeat it over and over like a prayer to him.
"Cum for me, bunny. Cum all over your god's cock like a good girl," He goes faster as both of you reach your high.
The way you whine while you convulse around him, moaning about how good he was fucking you, screaming, "Yes, god! Yes!" with your cunt clenching impossibly tighter as you squirt all over is what does it for him—his movement stutters and his languid thrusts loses its rhythm as he empties into you, his warm cum painting in your insides white.
You're glowing again—from underneath him. Your love and devotion to Suna Rintarō is truly unparalleled as you give him a lazy smile, and you tell him, "God, thank you, Rin."
That's how Suna knows you're made just for your god—for him.
©️ written by animatedrapture; all content belongs to animatedrapture. do not plagiarize, repost, or modify.
#haikyuu smut#haikyuu x reader#suna#suna rintaro x reader#suna rintarou#suna x reader#suna rintarō#suna smut#suna rintaro smut#;depravity#RINTOBER
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rest easy
summary: you save guts
warning: blood and violence( its berserk), virgin reader, angst, and smut
your days were spent alone, only few a visitors pass by your cottage mostly lost travelers. you tended to your farm, horse, and went into the village every once in a while to gather supplies but it was unsafe now and days. you couldn’t ever get visitors.
on this night, you were heading back from the village deciding to take a short cut threw the forest as the rain started to slowly fall. your boots helped against the mud and you applaud yourself for not wearing a dress. pulling your hood over you head your pressed on, as the rain pour even more.
thunder clapped along the sky and it was getting a little harder to see the trail. stop for a second you leaned brush the mud of the rocks to see it was straight for here to your cottage.
wiping off the mud on a branch, while your ears filled with a loud roar. your eyes widen, as your feet dragged you towards it. groans and loud cracking echo there the forest. maybe someone hurt, something clicked in you. who ever it was they need help.
“ who goes there!” you shouted, a sorry attempt to place fear in the sound you feared.
“ ugrhhhhhhhh!” the creature howled, your body frozen in pure terror. the things body was blob with a a abnormal human body attach like .. like it was it face but the eyes were above the body, I grew nauseous.
the tall creature eyes were fixed on a wounded man who was on laying against the dirt “ silly of you to think you could win!” his hand pressed on his lower stomach, looking at the mans face he had no far just a blank expression with blood and dirt covering his tight chin.
as the creature slowly approached him- i thought quickly- I had to do something , I couldn’t just stand by and watch this happen. bending down patting the soggy ground not letting my eyes of the monster as my fingers tips grabbed a hand full of rocks. I knew for sure if chucked the matter at the dam thing and stayed where I was creature it quickly find me in tear me apart, I had to be smart about this.
the man body was inches away from a large tree, if I could throw the rocks and make it over there before the rocks hit the creature body i could survive. convenicing myself I watched the man turn looking over at this huge blade his face contorted yet focus on the object- what is hold did that have to him?
as the creature stood closer to him - your hand fling the rocks at the things whist your feet twisted to keep from slip it lead you to make a break behind the tree and then infront of the man. “ are you okay?” drop your knees to the wet ground your eyes wondered the mans body as he looked surprised at your presences, the man was handsome to say the least, he would have saw the warm tint of cheeks if it wasn’t for the cold rain.
my questions were answers his palm lifted slightly of the wound to display blood. he had a deep gush, pushing back his hand applied pressure again as I turned.
a loud screech rumble through the forest followed by thunder as the creature turned in angry crawling towards were I just left trying to find out we’re the rocks came from- he tore through the trees- I eyeballed the thing. that could of be you. the monster was extremely strong, this would be your only time to put it down.
the man notice you as cover his body was yours, the smell of blood and sweat made way through your norstils as his filled with lavender and mint, the man behind whined in pain as he tried pushing himself up guts knew he had to do. you rejected his actions slowly pushing him down but his shoulders. the man watched you perplexed, what is she doing?“ I’ll protect you I promise...” his eyes widen as your trembling begun searching around as you found a long sword the he was looking at it.
weakly you stood up with the sword in hand, stepping back you sunk you heel in the ground pulling the blade up. you grunted as result, finally getting a good grip you aimmed behind the creature as he still tore. the man watched you in awh as he question who you are, you had to be lms of the kingdom swordsman but he hadn’t seen you before.
the heavy sword pulling you down, but you refused to let you go. the man cough concern you leading to the turning of your head“ please I ...” sniffing he picked his head up “ I’ve got this run fast..” shaking your head no at the man. You had to protect him, that was what you said you had to stay true to your word.
finally your arms got used to the weight blade, You knew it wouldn’t be long before your muscle give out so you aimmed toward the distracted creature. “ AHHHH” you cried charging toward the thing who finally turning to you but it was too late.
stabbing the creature, “ you bitch!” it spat at you, cover your body with blood in. throwing your head back in disgust you shoved the blade all the way through letting go finally killing the thing as you fell on your knees to the ground.
turning to the man, he was stunned, pushing his body against the tree to push himself up. he was surprise that you could even lift his sword but killing the dam thing! out of the question.
picking herself up of the ground, he watched her run towards him. the women was beautiful, her shirt ripped and her face covered in dripping blood- but still wore the look of worry on her face. “ let me help you, my home is just this way...” nodding she allowed him to leaned my body against hers.
“wait...” guts breathe as he bent down pulling the blade with ease out of the creatures body placing the sword on his back.
leaning against the woman he realized he hasn’t even said his name, “guts..” his deep voice vibrated. you looked up towards the man, “ my name is guts, yours?” he claimed as you both finally step into a clearing leaving the dark forest. the women lead guts toward her home replying with “y/n, it’s nice to meet you.” the rain finally slowly down only drizzling on the top of you.
walking through the opening of glossy grass a small cottage was pointed out by the bright moonlight. “thank you for that..”
“ that? I saved your ass..” guts hands held her sides letting a nice squeeze to them almost making her laugh. “ thank you for saving my ass”
you were extremely proud of yourself, when you were younger your brothers taught you how to wield a sword and fight to defend yourself. 
leading guts in you, you placed him on the ground on one of the rugs you just finished. now it’ll be covered in blood but you had no worries about that. getting up you ran to the outside getting a bucket of water and placing it on the fire place. grabbing your clothes and sewing kit.
guts groaned a bit, as he discarded his armor. rushing to his side you begun to clean him off and sewing him up. guts watched you tend to his wounds, you made sure to take care of injured spot.
he knew there was only so much you could do but he’d appreciated everything you did. finish your sewing, you patted him off with the warm towel. y/n knew one of his ribs were at least cracked due to the bruising, but guts still moved around like it was nothing lifting him self up and everything. this told you that it wasn’t his first time fight against something like this.
“ thank you...” nodding standing up stretching your limbs. turning you looked out your window the rain finally stop, but you finally saw your reflection of dirt and dried blood on you body. you need to clean yourself, “ you can lay your head here tonight...” a smirked played on his lips, realizing how forward and a bit inappropriate that sounded you stumbled saying“ o..oh only if you like” guts rose towering over you, finally getting a good look at him. his was extremely ripped, raven colored hair laid against his scalp and presence made you feel like a was a teenage girl with a crush. guts was nothing but handsome.
you didn’t realize his stare towards you as your eyes wonder his body, you stumbled backwards tripping over bunched up rug. Guts didn’t let you let you fall, as you as met his watching him warp his arms around you- hands planted flat against your back . the corners of his mouth quirked up as his eyes instantly fell to your lips, “ don’t fall” he murmured. breathing out, you pulled back nodding and apologizing.
Guts smiled at the fact that he made your this flustered, you turned grabbing a towel. “ I’m going to bathe, I’ll make you one too... please ea-t your welcome to anything...”
you wondered off, as he dropped his things, looking around your cottage it was full of greerny, candles all around lit the room but the large arch window allow the moonlight to shine in, and your bedroom was on top of garret with only could be reached by a ladder.
you had rugs over the wooden floor and paintings that covering the wall with some unfinished, is this how you made your money? leaning on the window seal he saw your crops. how could so much be done by one person, and from the looks of it she lives all alone. turning he say a sliver man armor in the corner, mhm maybe she doesn’t.
after eating most of your bread and fruit you had out- gut heard you called out and told him the bathe was filled again letting him know you were all done. you opposed no threat, not one at all. you laid your life down for him, it made him fair you even than your stunning looks. he felt comfortable around you-you risk your life for him.
guts watched from the door frames as you tended to your night gown in the mirror, you looked beautiful.
“I’m here..” guts broed body stepped into the wash room- you had on a dress with a loose corset bra on, you skin was glowing in the candle lit room. “already for ya...” you watched as guts go towards the bath as the steam from the bath covered the room, pulling down his pants down you turned your body. does this man have no shame? closing your eyes you hand gripped the door knob, “my apologies, I’ll leave y-“
quickly silencing her guts look behind him to you, “ I’ll need help, do ya mind?” he watch you slowly opening your eyes to him, you quickly nodded. making your way to find a small towel and pulled the stool behind him.
guts placed his feet in the wooden tub trying to get used to the warm water as he slowly set, you turned away you waited until his lower was in the water as guts let out a sigh.
your eyes studied his scar fulled back. your fingers tips traced them, getting lost in them it was almost like a puzzle. guts felt your innocent touches and relaxed, letting his head fell between his shoulders. “ so is there another bed?” shaking your head gaining focus again grabbing the towel, “ no, I stay alone I hope you don’t mind sharing..” your heart skipped a beat at the thought of the warm feeling of other by your side. “no I was confused on if you laid alone...”
blushing a bit you, started washing back and then turning to face him to wash his chest with warm towel. guts observed you again as focus deeply on your task at hand. biting your lips you spoke again “ my brother died two winters ago, so I keep to myself..”
that answer his question, “ I’m sorry fo-“ her finger hushed him while she placed the on his lips, “ don’t apologize...” you said seriously- all guts could do nodded, as she started at his neck with the cloth. “you just getting to know me, what about you? “
guts felt warm, staring at you he spoke with a “complicated “ looking at him for a moment until you could help but to bust out in laughter. guts rolled his eyes, “what?” you sighed, “ you were so serious you just look a little funny”
guts watched her giggled to herself, at least she didn’t beg on. compared to others she’s seen way more, and she’s calm. y/n is laughing, watching her eyes closed and she talked about how she planned on cleaning the blood stained rug and went on about the monster outside and how heavy my sword was. “ you know I could have saved myself?” guts looked up, making her roll her eyes. “ then clean your own body baby..” she sit up beginning to walked away.
“Ah!” guts gasped as you turned back to him in worry, “did a cut open?”she leaned in and earned as splash of water on her, “ hey!” she questioned guts, “ you just looked funny”
after guts finished you give him some dry clothes with a cup of tea. you give him an explanation about the crops, “I wake up everyday at five in the morning...” that was crazy to him. you guys climbed up into you bed, guts set up looking out the window.
resting your head on the pillow you watched him. guts was tense, like he was worried. reach out for his hand he flinched. confirming your thoughts, his eyes watched you as your hand pulled him down to you. “ I promise your safe here...”
guts watched you, letting his head finally rest. after what it felt like years. eyes watching you, brush his hair from his eyes. “ you don’t have to worry..” giving him a hazy smile. guts heart throbbed pulling you into him.
for a moment you let your eyes fall and pressed deeper into him. savoring this moment, chest pressed together guts felt your heartbeat. it was a slow thump, letting him know you were relaxed. his hand smoothed along your curves petting you.
you body buzzed, while your palms instinctively went behind his neck. grabbing your waist he pulled you closer to him, I moan slipped pass you lips. you’ve never had this happen, guts watched you as his hips grinded against yours. your eye closed and mouth ajar along his lips in pure pleasure that you’ve never felt before. thinking of the times you rocked against your pillow, having his hands and the musk of him around your was completely different. guts lips touch your cheek as you quickly pulled back.
guts confused and extremely turned on by the sounds you made in his ear- glazed at your in worry. “ I’m sorrry..” you mumbled holding yourself, you felt almost embarrassed and weak. you haven’t been-
“ no one ever made me feel like this before..” looking guts eye widen.“ it’s your first time?” he asked you, you didn’t want to answer but guts could see in your movements, your were awkwardly nervous, and your corset squeeze against your chest due to your tight breathe.
guts eyes darted to your bust, licking his lips. He thought about this situation in front of him, slowly guts arms found your hips pulling you on top of him.
your hands laid flat again this chest looking down, you didn’t know how to feel nor what to do. guts stared watching your lips quiver, his fingers worked on your the strings on your back with eventually let your top fall.
his hands discarded it as he planted soft kisses on your skin. leading up to your lips, starting off soft you two made out until you craved more. lifting your hips up and sitting them down on his.
guts large hands reached under your dress to your bare soft thighs. squeezing them you bounced, pulling away to look down. “ I wanna- ah- watch ” your hands swiftly bunched up your skirt at your waist making guts smile. As his this slowly brushed past your heat, “ that fe-ahh so good” you moaned resting your head on his shoulder.
guts cock throb, stunned from the words that just left your mouth. pushing deeper gut thumb became cover in your juices, you were dripping for him. “ oh guts!” you moaned into his ear, his thumb continue to move against your ball of nerves as his finger starting pushing against your opening.
gasping your pulled back a little, guts hand kept you still and held you there. you never felt that pressure before and it sting a little, “ sorry it just came as a surprise..” guts nodded, pressing is lips against yours again, His thumb so moved against you as your lips molded together- he pulled back breathless “ we don’t have rush okay?”
desperate for his lips again you moved again them, nodding not even needing to convince yourself. guts slowly pushed his finger inside you, hearing the slick sounds as he twist and turn his finger made it hard to go move against his finger. a loud moan left lips, while you held on top him tight.
you never wanted this to stop, laying you down softly as his hand on your back went to soothe the warmth on your cheeks, you were expose to him.
guts took your beautiful body in, as his hands showed appreciation to every part of your body. his lips kisses you stomach and then your hips. making his way to your breast that he knead, earning a moan from him, squeezing your legs against his body he felt his member jump.
guts faced you, “ this is an honor...” kissing you again, you feel him pushing into you. your lips part opening up more as he sucked on your bottom lip. his large hands held you thighs as the burning slowly went away, as guts groaned started to rock move his waist as yours.
You gasped in astonishment pawing at guts back. guts drive into you, your left perfect around him. your pussy hugged him tighter than ever, begging - pleading for more of him.
his was in a complete trance by y/n, your moans were music to his ears “ oh guts!” only pressed him to want more of you.
you had mixed emotions, you told yourself that you would never marry off to keep your family name. So expected to never have this intimate moment with anyone, to never experience this moment . but now that you are it felt so right and you never wanted to stop.
“ holy shit your tight..” lips roughly pressed at your skin, you were in heaven. your body felt so good, placing your hands on his sides you dug your nails in pleading for him to go faster.
“ ugh! “ your legs wrapped around his body pulling him deeper inside of you awakening a bundle of ecstasy. guts saw you were a messy, words left your mouth in pants as you body shaked. flickering down to his cock he saw you milking him, you were experiencing your first orgasm and it was all from him.
lips falling on your neck, he drove deeper insane you wanting more as your hands gripped his hair. “ oh god!” you were in a frenzy, a guts frenzy.
pulling back guts watch you release for him, his hands clenched the sheet to hold his in. the site of you, was just enough for him.
as soon as you notice guts stop his movements you hips rode against earning a deep sigh from him. “ more!” you cried, guts gocked letting his head fall, as you pushed him deeper. You were so desperate for him, you were intoxicated by him. kissing him more your felt a spark, tingle your lips as guts pulled away groaning.
“ahh y/n fuck!” guts cried releasing inside you as he buried his inside you making you whimper in his ear, hold his head in your arms. guts screwed up his face, thrust more inside you. his cum all going deeper in you, as your pushed his hair out of his face.
kissing you deeper, you both felt enchanted by each other by each other, panting into each other guts gazed at you telling you that your amazing making you feel all warm inside.
laying his head on your bare chest he fell into a deep well needed sleep. your fingers ran through his hair as you replayed the recently events.
as the morning came you routine begun, guts still sound asleep- well not sound you could hear his snores even as you tended to your crop. you took it upon yourself to pack him fruits and berries in around cloth that smelt just like you.
fixing yourself, you changed into a dress passing your ankles. your corset tight, as you heard a stir. looking up upon your loft guts body was cleaved, his abs laided tight on his chest as he rubbed his eyes sleepily. looking down on your he almost gasped, you were breath taking as you smiled at him.
you were glowing, slowly climbing up the ladder Sitting on your knees in front of him. “good morning sleeping beauty..” chuckling he connected your lips, as your hand placed on his shoulder pulling of with a smile.
guts fingers found your hair twirling around his fingers, “ when do you plan on heading off?” guts smirked placing his hand behind your neck using his thumb to rub your temple. his lips take hold of you again while you threw you on top of him.
your lips dancing together as you playful caressed his body. guts hips pushed against you making you pulling back to lean up. “ what are you doing?” his snaked up to your hips as he slowly brushed his cock against you. eyes fluttering as you whimpered. guts smiled, flipping you over so he was on top. placing your hands on his chest, your face turned to the side.
did I do something wrong, guts eyebrow quirked as he turned down. “ we can’t do this right now, we gotta get you all packed..” as you continued to rumble you tried to ignore how guts kissed trail lower and lower down your body- his hands push your dress up as he placed a kiss on your heat. “so much to d - ah guts !”
after loud screams and heavy rocking for half of the day guts smiled at you, lips parted and eyes closed. brushing your cheeks he was enchanted by you.
guts had to get back, it’s been weeks since he’s been home. come to think of it, he’s never seen this place. a clear meadow and even this cottage, he always takes this way home. plus why didn’t anything attack this place last night? that was the first quiet night guts. you eyes opened, smile beaming at him.
“ let’s get you going before sunset..” nodding slowly while she peck his lips and stood up to fix herself. guts found his items neatly cleans and organized, while he dressed himself you handed him a bag with food.
he sighed grabbing his things walking with him in silence until you reach the middle of your meadow. turning to you guys frown a bit. hand on his cheek you smiled towards him, “ don’t forget about me..” shaking his head no, never. you nodded in response.
“ thank you, I owe you one..”
“you owe me a lot...” guts smirked played along his rough face, “ I’m in debt eternally...” the wind swayed the grass along both of your feet’s. it was finally quiet for once. guts two fingers hooked under your chin pulling your closer.
his face studied yours, he found you almost angelic. guts couldn’t believe he just had stumbled upon something so mesmerizing. pressing his lips against yours one last time, pulling away leaving you purely enchanted.
guts swore he’d come back to you but when he came back he couldn’t find you. guts found the clearing, but there was no cottage not crops no trace of nothing like it was never there- like she was never there.
author notes:
I just started berserk and I’m falling deeply in love with the it.
* proofing reading in progress *
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Tangled Salt Marathon - “Rapunzel Knows Best!” ( A first half of S3 Recap)
So I decided to place the recap after Be Very Afraid for several reasons. For starters it’s where the season three hiatus took place. It’s also framed like a cliffhanger episode the same as The Great Tree and Queen for a Day; so while Cassandra’s Revenge is technically the midseason finale, Be Very Afraid functionally servers this narrative purpose better. Finally I want to keep the Cassandra heavy stuff contained in it’s own recap later same as I did for Varian’s arc in season one.
Also keep in mind, everything I discussed in previous recaps still apply here. Nothings changed and you could argue that the issues I bring up now could have also apply to past seasons; they just happen to be at their worst here.
Here are the past recaps
To Filler or Not to Filler
Hey, What Ever Happened to That Varitas, Guy?
What Is the Point?
‘Whatta Twist’
And here are the episodes that’s covered in this recap
Rapunzel’s Return Part 1
Rapunzel’s Return Part 2
Return of the King
Who’s Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf
The Lost Treasure of Herz Der Sonne
No Time Like the Past
Beginnings
The King and Queen of Hearts
Day of the Animals
Be Very Afraid
Poorly Defined Conflicts
I’m not just talking about Cassandra’s lack of goals here either, though that is a part of it. I mean in several episodes the central conflict isn’t laid out clearly enough before being resolved. We flip from one set up to the next without ever resolving the first; like in Rapunzel’s Return when Cass and Varian fight for screen time or whenever Rapunzel is suppose to learn one lesson only for someone else to learn a completely different lesson in every other episode. And to this day I don’t know what Rapunzel and Feldspar’s subplot in Lost Treasure was suppose to be about.
There’s also of course the ill-defined overall conflict; which at this point has become convoluted and nonsensical to the extreme, and will only grow more aggravatingly stupid as the season progresses. The main villains lack clear goals, their motivations don’t align with previously stated facts, and the actual interesting conflict involving the threat of the rocks and their destruction of people’s lives and homes is just shoved under the rug and forgotten about.
There is no story without conflict. Having the conflict be all over the place is not only confusing but makes it harder for the audience to invest in what’s going on.
Failed Narrative Promises
Tying in with the above statement regarding conflicts, we have failed narrative promises. Rapunzel is repeatedly told to that she needs to learn something in several episodes only for her not to learn it at all. She either learns some unrelated ‘lesson’ that wasn’t established, (like in Rapunzel’s Return with her pervious goal about ‘opening up to others’ being switched out for a generic ‘responsibility’ lesson that at the last minute, where she doesn’t even do anything responsible,) or she winds up ‘teaching’ the opposite lesson to a different character thereby rewarding her for her bad behavior.
And that’s just within the induvial episodes themselves; there’s also broken narrative promises through out the overall story arc; like...
no justice/redemption for Lady Caine,
no acknowledgment that the Saporians are the victims of colonization
no conclusion regarding Corona’s murky past
no satisfying ending to Varian’s plot that sees everyone in involve grow
a poor copout of an explanation for Cassandra’s face/heel turn
The Dark Prince reveal going nowhere
The Brotherhood being put on a bus
King Frederic, or any royal, not being held accountable for their past actions
Lance’s new found responsibilities just being thrown away for the tenth time
The Disciples plot being being dropped
next to nothing in season two winds up being relevant
And Rapunzel, the protagonist of a coming of age story, fails to learn anything at all
I could probably go on but you get the gist. Tangled is incredibly frustrating show to watch because doesn’t deliver what it promises. You’re not being clever by ‘subverting audiences expectations’ unless you can justify your narrative decisions with previous set up. Tangled is too lazy to build proper set ups so it’s ‘twists’ leave you wanting to punch things rather then impressing you.
Character Assassinations
Every single character in Tangled the Series gets thrown under a bus, driven off a cliff, and then allowed to drown in the ocean of their completely unaware self-congratulatory smugness.
Rapunzel is turned into a bully
Cassandra is given the idiot ball to hold permanently
The King and Queen are lobotomized
Quinin gets replaced by a robot
The rest of the Brotherhood are pale shadows of what they could have been
Edmund is transformed from tragic complex figure into a dumb jerkoff who abuses his kid for a laugh
Zhan Tiri, once an ancient demon warlock, is reduced to a floating impotent ghost girl
The Saporians become poor hipster parodies
Cap is put on a bus
Any villain who isn’t Cass is gets ignored
Lance is infantilized to the point of absurdity
Eugene becomes a doormat
and poor Varian is forced to become a complacent victim to his abusers as oppose to being allowed to keeping his dignity
I think the only person who escapes this mass murder of characterization is freaking Calliope, and she’s hasn’t even appeared yet! (Well okay her and Trevor, maybe)
This all ties back into the poorly defined conflict and failed narrative promises. Rather than let the characters drive the story, they’ve become puppets to the plot, and plot is really stupid and forced, and circles back in on itself and is full of contradictions.
Manipulating the Audience’s Empathy to Do the Work for the Writers
The reason why the creators believe they can get away with such poor characterization and lazy writing is because they expect the audience to do all the heavy lifting for them.
Cass isn’t given an on screen reason for what she does because they’re hoping her fans will just automatically excuse her because they like her/relate to her and not, you know, get mad at the writers for dumbing her down. And after all who doesn’t love the creator’s pet? Meanies! That’s who!
No one calls out Rapunzel’s bullshit on screen, because if everyone likes her, then you, viewing audience, should too. Because if you have any sort of independent critical thinking abilities and a sense of right and wrong then clearly you’re ‘just a hater’.
Everyone should just shut up and be satisfied that Varian is even on screen now and be grateful for the scraps that they get cause he’s not the real point of the show and according to Chris ‘Varian fans aren’t real fans’. Even though they make up most of his viewing audience.
I could go on, but it’s just variations of the above. The writing in this series is very fond of gaslighting the audience and trying to trick them into justifying the absolute worst behaviors while desperately hoping they doesn’t noticed the continued downgrading and dismissal of characters they do like or once liked.
And the sad thing is, it’s worked. There are people to this day that still try to justify this show’s shitty morals and bend over backwards to excuse the likes of Rapunzel, Frederic, Cassandra, and Edmund. Worst, there are loud sections of the fandom, (usually on twitter) who think bullying is okay and follow in Chris and his characters footsteps. Most of them young impressionable girls who are now ripe for TREFS to indoctrinate because they use the same bullying tactics and excuses for authoritarianism.
Media does effect reality, but not in the way purists and antis would have you believe. No one is going to become a violent manic from playing a video game nor a sex offender because they read a smut fic. But they very much will conform to toxic beliefs if it’s repeated enough at them by authorities they ‘trust’; like say the world wide leading company known for family entertainment and children’s media, and the ‘friends’ they find within the fandom for said company...
I’m not saying you can’t enjoy Tangled the series or that you’re some how wrong for liking it’s characters, nor do you have to engage with every or any criticism thrown it’s way. But yes you need to think about the media you consume on some level and valid criticism is very much important to the fandom experience for precisely the above reasons.
Conclusion
This isn’t even the tip of the iceberg of what’s wrong with this show, but it is most of its biggest problems laid bare. Anything that haven’t covered here or in the past recaps will be explored in the final recap. Cause this is it folks; the last leg of the journey for this retrospective. When come back, hopefully next week, we’ll tackle Pascal’s Dragon.
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@jonmartinweek day two - injury!
also on ao3
When dealing with matters of the heart, Jon was about the furthest from a natural that there could be.
He was... rusty to say the least. Awkward was a generous way to put it. Completely and utterly useless was far more accurate.
So when Georgie had laughed and asked when he and Martin had started dating, he had been understandably taken aback and politely asked her what she meant by that. ("Georgie, what the fuck?" had been his exact wording). She'd shrugged and patted his knee, telling him that he should probably talk to Martin as soon as he got back to the Institute.
He stared down at the ring sat on the table, a frown creasing his forehead. It had been something of a whim purchase. He had bought it several years ago after reading about the concept online, and he'd just....not taken it off. Every time it left his hand, he'd itched to put it back on as soon as possible.
And now, a blistering burn mark on his hand was stopping him from putting it back on. A small, mostly insignificant piece of his identity stripped back and taken away from him.
A gentle knock at the door startled him out of his quiet contemplation.
"Hello." Martin poked his head around the door. "Tea?"
"Thank you, Martin."
Martin smiled, and Jon remembered Georgie's assumption. Would he? It wasn't the most unimaginable thing in the world. Martin was friendly. Charming, comfortable, welcoming. But dating? Maybe... But Jon had done dating before. He'd explained what the ring in the table meant to enough people that he was tired. Tired of the assumptions, the questions, the idea that there was one person out there who would change his mind, all he needed was a good-
Martin wasn't that person. When Jon ran through the mental 'relationship checklist', he could imagine so many different aspects with Martin. Holding hands, going on dates, even waking up next to each other, but that particular facet of a relationship was completely unimaginable. It wasn't that Martin was unattractive, simply that Jon just didn't see the attractiveness like that.
"What's that?" Martin gestured to the ring.
"Oh, uh, nothing." Jon covered it with his good hand. "Just a- nothing."
"Riiight." Martin placed the tea on his desk, in easy reach. "Keep your secrets then."
"Hmm." Jon hummed, still examining Martin's face.
"Jon? You alright?"
"Oh!" Jon realised he was staring and quickly looked away. "Sorry."
"It's okay." Martin said with an audible smile that made Jon's heart do something ridiculous.
"Martin..." Jon didn't really know what he was going to say. "Are you- I- Hmm."
"Take your time."
"Have lunch with me. That is, if you want to, please don't feel like I'm pressuring you, you can say no if you-"
"Jon." Martin put a hand on his desk, gentle, a calming reminder of a calming man. "I'd love to."
Jon stared at the hand. It was larger than his own. When he'd arrived back in the archives, trailing blood and exhaustion behind him, Martin had sat and re-wrapped the clumsy bandages he had put on it, patiently telling him off for not going to a doctor and getting it checked. Jon hadn't been able to look away from his hands then either, just gazing at them with sleepy eyes, his mind fixed on the image of Martin taking care of him. Carefully picking up the pieces he had left flung about the place and putting them back together, gently slotting them back into place.
Martin took him to a sandwich place around the corner from the institute. Jon stared at the menu, trying to decipher the swirling font. The letters swam slightly as he read them, the words jumbling together.
“Jon?” Martin bumped their shoulders together lightly, bending down to Jon's height to compensate for the difference. “What are you going to order?”
“I- What do you recommend?”
Martin smiled. “Hmm. How about the tuna and sweetcorn? It’s a classic, you know?”
“Sure.”
Martin ordered for them and nudged Jon towards a table in the corner. Jon went willingly, content to listen to Martin chatter away about the wait times and the various bouts of people-watching he had gotten up to in this cafe. Despite Jon’s lack of contributions, Martin seemed to be fine carrying the conversation on his own. A couple of people gave them odd glances, no doubt wondering what Martin, kind, gentle-looking Martin, was doing with a grumpy sack of exhaustion. Externally, they didn't match. They were diametrically opposed, two entities that shouldn't exist in the same space without causing some kind of epoch changing event.
But the more Jon pondered it, the more he realised that he wanted to be here, sat opposite Martin, listening to him talk, letting him order his sandwiches and hold his hand-
Jon’s brain skipped a beat.
Martin had placed his hand over Jon’s where it rested on the table and was staring at him, concern across his face. “Jon? You okay?”
‘I care about him’, Jon realised with a start. ‘This is my friend.’
Martin nudged his hand around so that he could properly take it in his own. The motion dislodged the ring that Jon still held clutched in his bandaged fingers. It clattered out, its black outline stark against the faded beige of the tabletop.
“Oh, sorry.” Martin picked it up to hand it back to Jon. “You might want to be a bit more careful. You don't want to lose this.”
“What?” Jon stared down at Martin’s hand. It felt ridiculous to see Martin holding out his ring and for Jon to feel this weightless. The gentle curl of Martin’s fingers around the band set Jon’s mind whirling down avenues lined with graffiti reading ‘Just tell him’ and ‘Maybe it will go well’.
Jon took a deep breath and took the plunge.
“I’m sorry, Martin.”
Martin blinked. “R-right? What for?”
“All of it.” Jon reached out and covered Martin’s, still holding Jon’s ace ring up in front of them. “You were always- I’m glad you're here. With me.” He carefully took the ring and let go of Martin’s hand. It looked shockingly sad sitting in the palm of Jon’s bandaged hand. Another piece of who he was now associated with pain. An uncomfortably familiar reality that Jon was steadily becoming used to.
Martin reached across the table and gave Jon’s hand a quick squeeze. Jon hissed at the jolt of pain lacing up his arm.
“Oh god, Jon, I’m so sorry, I didnt- I didnt think, that was stupid of me-” Martin’s hands fluttered in the air around Jon’s. “God, that was awful of me, I’m really sorry-”
“It’s okay,” Jon said, grabbing at Martin with his uninjured hand. “It’s fine, it's already passed.”
Martin gave him an apologetic smile, but didn’t argue. “That’s important to you, huh?”
“Hmm?”
“The ring. I’ve seen you wear it a lot. Does it mean something?”
“Oh.” Jon hadn't considered the possibility that Martin might be aware of the ring's existence. In his head, it existed in a bubble, separate from work and his colleagues. It made sense, he supposed, that Martin was able to see into that bubble, since its edges had been bumping against Jon’s perception of Martin for a little while now. “It, ah, its a- Its a sexuality thing.”
To Martin’s credit, he didn’t even blink at the idea that Jon might not be straight, just nodded and smiled encouragingly. “I thought so. Asexuality, right?”
“Wha- Yes.” Jon had been gearing up to explain the intricacies of asexuality, not for Martin to already have that knowledge.
“It came up when I was doing research trying to figure out my own sexuality.”
That caught Jon off guard. For some reason, throughout all of his deliberations trying to figure out where on Jon’s internal spectrum Martin sat, he had failed to consider the actual real life possibility of Martin’s queerness. “You’re-”
“Oh, I’m not ace.” Martin shook his head. “At least, I don't think so. Labels,” he chuckled. “Confusing stuff. I usually just go with gay and trans to sum me up.”
A small, overlooked lightbulb in the back of Jon’s mind flickered to life as a couple of pieces of information fell into place with a quiet ‘oh!’
“I saw the ring but I didn't want to ask in case it was just a style thing. A lot of people don't know about this stuff and it's sometimes hard to tell, you know?”
“Right.”
“I guess the bandages stop you wearing it, right?” It was a non-sentence, a piece of idle observation that Martin was making. But it still stung.
“It feels somewhat ridiculous to say but- I think I’m going to miss it. It’s just a ring, it's not my entire sexuality, I’ll still be ace without wearing it, but I’m still- It feels like I’m missing a piece of something that I was trying to hold onto, you know?”
Martin nodded. “I understand. Here-” he reached up and unclasped a thin chain that had been hanging around his neck. “You can borrow this. I’ll take these off for now.” He slipped off a couple of charms that had been hanging on it. Smiling, he held out the chain.
“You- You’re sure?”
“Yeah.” Martin wiggled the chain in the air between them slightly. “You can give it back when your hand is better.”
Wordlessly, Jon took the chain and looped the ring onto it. He lifted to try and fix the clasp around his neck, but he couldn't get the clasp open. Martin pushed his chair back, coming to stand behind Jon, taking the chain out of his hands and closing the clasp for Jon.
“There.” Martin smoothed Jon’s collar down. “That looks nice!”
“Thank you.” Jon whispered, then louder, “Thank you, Martin. This- This means a lot.”
Martin shrugged a little awkwardly, cheeks turning red. “No trouble. It means a lot to you, so, you know, you should be able to carry it with you.”
He smiled down at Jon, and once again Jon felt the small jolt of recognition, of comfort. The bubble in his mind fully merged with Martin, creating something new that, at least for a few more long, exhausting months, Jon didn't know to call love.
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A fascinating and educational twitter thread about how Prohibition helped Botswana become one of the most stable countries in Africa.
For decades since its independence in 1966, Botswana was an island of black sovereignty & stability between apartheid South Africa and white-supremacist Rhodesia. Some say it was the inspiration for #Wakanda in the movie #BlackPanther.
In southern Africa as the world over, the Brits and European colonists ran the EXACT SAME PLAYBOOK of alco-colonization.
Read more at the link
Step 1: Introduce hard liquors--industrial distillates--to native populations with no experience with drinks of such mind-bending potency. 4/ Step 2: Clutch their pearls, and recoil in horror at the drunkenness and violence that predictably occurs within the native community and against white colonizers and liquor purveyors.
In Africa, they called it the “black peril.”
Step 3: Cite that drunkenness as evidence of natives’ inability to be “civilized,” thus justifying white political domination over them. Africa, Asia, North America, even Ireland--everywhere it was the same pattern.
See also: opium in China.
Hard liquor (whiskey, rum, gin, vodka, schnapps, etc.) was the perfect tool of exploitation. Highly potent. Concentrated. Easy to transport. Highly addictive. Didn’t spoil like fermented brews. Easy to make. Incredibly lucrative.
European colonizers would share liquor as a gesture of goodwill, and then once the alcoholic stupor set in, get tribal leaders to scrawl an “X” and sign-away their land, resources, and even people. 8/ More importantly, promoting widespread addiction to liquor made indigenous populations reliant on the colonists, just as junkies rely on drug dealers.
Again, see also: opium in China, and two Opium Wars resisting it.
What did natives have that colonists wanted? Ivory, food, furs, ivory, exotic ostrich feathers, rubber, ivory... the land and the minerals in it, and everything living on it.
Also: ivory.
And finally, the natives themselves were commodities: as labor or slaves.
If you’re a European trader & the locals trade ivory or furs for (say) your iron kettle, the entire village can use that for 20 years. Blankets might last 5 years before they need to trade with you again. There’s little demand for your wares.
Or you. But if you can hook the community on booze that ONLY YOU supply, they’ll have to come back to you all. the. time.
Now you’re indispensable.
Addiction is self-renewing demand. Becoming the sole drug dealer to a community of addicts is ridiculously profitable. Need proof?
Riddle me this: What was the first factory on the continent of Africa?
Of course, Africa is rich in every resource imaginable: minerals, gems, ivory, rubber, oil, cocoa, fruit and timber that could be processed into goods.
Here it is.
In 1881, the Dutch Transvaal government granted a monopoly on distilled brandy to the Hatherley Distillery near Pretoria. The company was called “De Eerste Fabriken”--the First Factory.
It wasn't first because the white settlers drank it. They largely didn’t.
Instead, with the discovery of gold & diamonds, white mine-owners needed black labor. They lured workers to the mines with promises of liquor, knowing if they had large booze debts to pay back, tribesmen would have to work longer, rather than returning to their village.
(South African Breweries--today the world’s largest brewer--was founded soon thereafter to provide British-style beer to a white clientele, while the cheap liquor from Hatherley was reserved for indenturing black workers.)
Consequently, every native leader worth his salt was a prohibitionist--defending his people against the “white man’s wicked water.” King Moshoeshoe in Lesotho. Chief Waterboer in Griqualand. Tembu headman Mankai Renga & hundreds more. In Africa as around the globe, temperance and prohibitionism became the banner for subaltern sovereignty against the white colonial junkiemaker.
Which brings us back to Botswana. Or Bechuanaland, as it was then known. It had long been ruled by tribal chiefs, led by Bamangwato King Khama III ("the Great"), who’d allied with the British against the Dutch Boers.
Three months after ascending the throne in 1873, he informed all white traders on his territory that trading liquor w/ his people was now prohibited.
“If, when you give one another a drink, you turn around and give it to my people also, I shall regard you as blameworthy.” Europeans scoffed & kept selling--until Khama expelled them all: “I am black and am chief of my own country. When you white men rule then you will do as you like. At present I rule, and I shall maintain my laws which you insult and despise.”
Prohibition was sovereignty. “There are 3 things which distress me—war, selling people, and drink,” Khama wrote the British in 1876, asking the Queen’s protection. “All these I shall find in the Boers.”
By 1884, Bechuanaland was British protectorate, respecting Khama’s prohibition. Meanwhile the 1890s, Britain’s Cape Colony was dominated by the notorious Cecil Rhodes: founder of the De Beers diamond syndicate, quintessential imperialist and unapologetic white supremacist.
“I contend that we are the finest race in the world and that the more of the world we inhabit the better it is for the human race,” Rhodes wrote. “Africa is still lying ready for us--it is our duty to take it.” In 1889, Rhodes organized his mining interests into the chartered British South Africa Company (BSAC), which had its own government and army. In 1890, he also became Prime Minister of the Cape Colony. In the First Matabele War (1893-94), 750 BSAC “police” with machine guns killed over 10,000 Matabele spearmen, bringing Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe) under Company control. Khama’s Tswana tribesmen served on the side of the Company.
According to BSAC shareholder reports, one of the first items of business wherever the Company set-up control was to farm-out the liquor trade to white settlers.
Profits are profits, regardless of prohibition promises. Rhodes famously dreamed of building a trans-African railroad connecting Cape Town to Cairo... which meant taking Bechuanaland, even though Khama was regaled as a loyal British ally.
From 1892-95, the conniving Rhodes used every administrative trick possible to place Khama’s Bechuanaland Protectorate under the sovereignty of the Company, but was stymied either by Khama or the Colonial Office in London. By 1895, Khama had enough. Together w/ fellow chiefs Bathoen and Sebele, he voyaged to London to petition Queen Victoria’s government to keep Bechuanaland out of Rhodes’ grasp.
“The two points on which the natives seem to be apprehensive,” the Imperial Secretary in Cape Town telegraphed London, “are the questions of land and liquor.” The 3 kings arrived in September 1895, and were supposed to meet with Colonial Secretary Joseph Chamberlain. But he--like the rest of the Queen’s government--had left for their annual vacations until November. “I have for years tried to abolish the use of strong liquors in my country, and prevent the importation of European drinks,” Khama told the London press, lamenting that his efforts “should be hampered by agitation in my country and outside it.” While awaiting for an audience with Chamberlain or Queen Victoria, Khama, Sebele and Bathoen toured the width and breadth of the British Isles, winning British public opinion to the side of their temperance and sovereignty.
The Review of Reviews reprinted Khama’s plea that “you, O British people, will not paralyse my efforts by compelling me to submit to the invasion of my country by the trader with his poisonous liquors.” If Britain were to ignore Khama’s calls for help, the papers editorialized, then the British people “should stand condemned as the most God-forsaken set of canting hypocrites on the whole round earth.” Following the kings‘ temperance visits, a flood of popular petitions inundated the Colonial Office from across the country, strenuously opposing giving Bechuanaland over to Rhodes‘ Company. Prior to the meeting, the kings plead their case to Chamberlain: “We fear the Company because we think they will take our land and sell it to others. We fear that they will fill our country with liquor shops, as they have Bulawayo.”
The kings offered concessions and the payment of additional poll taxes, if London would only delay the inevitable annexation by Rhodes’ Company by 10 years. “Do not let them bring liquor into our country to kill our people speedily.”
On Nov. 6, 1895, Chamberlain finally met with the chiefs to dictate terms. The chiefs would pay a hut tax and sacrifice a strip of land for Rhodes‘ railway in exchange for maintaining their sovereignty as a protectorate. “White man’s strong drink shall not be brought for sale into the country, and those who attempt to deal in it or give it away to black men will be punished. No new liquor license shall be issued, and no existing liquor license shall be renewed,” Chamberlain declared.
Weeks later, Chamberlain escorted the Chiefs to Windsor castle for an audience with “the Great White Queen” herself, Queen Victoria, who confirmed the arrangements that Chamberlain had made. “The sale of strong drink shall be prohibited in your country &those who attempt to supply it shall be severely punished,” the Queen declared. “I feel strongly in this matter, & am glad to see that the chiefs have determined to keep so great a curse from the people.” Pleased, though unaware of British protocols, Sebele told the press: “Her Majesty if a very charming old lady... But I had no idea that she was so short and stout... I shall go back home contented.”
They did. Far less pleased was Cecil Rhodes, who telegraphed London: “I do object to being beaten by three canting natives especially on the score of temperance.”
And then: “IT IS HUMILIATING TO BE UTTERLY BEATEN BY THESE NI***RS.”
Bechuanaland’s stay of execution may have been short lived, were it not for what happened next. Upon returning to Bechuanaland, Khama met Sir Leander Starr Jameson, who was leading a BSAC military force. Jameson’s orders were to instigate an insurrection across the border in the Dutch Transvaal, whipping-up British sympathizers and lead to an all-out British invasion to topple the rival Dutch Boers. But in a crowning irony, Jameson’s Raid was doomed by liquor. To take the Dutch by surprise, the British would cut the telegraph lines so Boer outposts couldn’t sound the alarm of invasion. Instead of cutting the telegraph lines, a drunken British soldier instead cut a farmer’s wire fence. The Dutch anticipated and tracked the whole raid, ambushed and decimated the attackers & imprisoned Rhodes’ brother Frank.
London condemned Rhodes‘ reckless adventurism, forcing him to step down from the BSAC in disgrace. The imperial threat to Bechuanaland’s sovereignty and sobriety was over. The British honored Khama’s prohibition & sovereignty right through Botswana’s independence in 1966. Today the bronze Three Dikgosi Monument honoring Khama, Bathoen & Sebele is the most visited destination in the 🇧🇼 capital of Gaborone.
Were it not for their 1895 temperance mission to Britain, what is today Botswana would’ve long been absorbed into either Britain’s Cape Colony (now South Africa) or Rhodesia (Zimbabwe)--much to their people’s detriment--instead of becoming its own independent country. Without prohibition, there’d be no Botswana. And in honor of their Founding Fathers, Botswana emblazoned the picture of the chiefs‘ 1895 temperance mission to London on their 100 Pula note.
HEY! If you liked this liquor-politics thread, may I humbly suggest checking-out my new “Smashing the Liquor Machine: A Global History of Prohibition” book, which contains literally dozens of them.
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𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙋𝙡𝙖𝙮𝙗𝙤𝙮’𝙨 𝙆𝙧𝙮𝙥𝙩𝙤𝙣𝙞𝙩𝙚: 𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙏𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙚
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.6𝙠
𝐭𝐰: 𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚, 𝙟𝙚𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙪𝙨𝙮, 𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙘𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙥𝙞𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨, 𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙣𝙟𝙪𝙧𝙮, 𝙞𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙙 𝙢𝙪𝙧𝙙𝙚𝙧, 𝙨𝙬𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜
𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠: 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙙𝙞𝙙 𝙞𝙩 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙜𝙤 𝙬𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙜 - 𝙝𝙪𝙙𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙖𝙮𝙡𝙤𝙧
𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏 | 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 | 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑 | 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟒
( 𝚈𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎!𝙾𝚒𝚔𝚊𝚠𝚊 𝚃𝚘𝚘𝚛𝚞 𝚡 𝙵𝚎𝚖!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 )
A loud cheer left your lips as Seijoh secured yet another point. The game had progressed into the third set, and the score was now 15-24, your hometeam only one point away from victory. Kaori trembled in excitement next to you, her cheeks pinking under the heat of the gym lights. She had caught Oikawa’s eyes more than once as they drifted up to your seats, and just that fact alone was enough to set her face aflame. Had she finally gotten the captain to notice her?
No, the only person Tooru could ever see was you.
You hadn’t noticed the setter’s longing stares, more focused on the player with a big number 2 on his back. He smirked at his fellow blocker once the ball smacked against the opposite end of the court, silently celebrating his success. A smile creeped across your lips as you watched the display, heart thumping unsteadily in your chest. Matsukawa’s brown eyes flitted to your face for a moment, drinking in your beam before grinning back.
The interaction was brief, but Oikawa didn’t miss anything. He almost wished he didn’t see the way your expression brightened for the few seconds you basked in Issei’s attention, or the unsteady hand you clenched against your chest when he looked away. Tooru was unable to keep his left eye from twitching slightly as a wave of irritation slammed into him like a tsunami. So that was who you liked, huh?
What did Matsukawa Issei have that he didn’t?
Oikawa was extremely aggressive for the last point, serving so hard that a player on the opposing team got hit and ended up with a bloody nose. Everyone just figured he was excited to win and the adrenaline of the finishing play had gotten to him. Well, they weren’t entirely wrong. He was excited to win. But, the player he had ‘accidentally’ hit looked strangely similar to Matsukawa.
There was nothing wrong with some harmless target practice, right?
Once the game was over, you couldn’t stop yourself from rushing down from the stands over to the Seijoh team. Kaori was close behind you, clutching a clean towel that she planned to give to Oikawa. You barely awarded said man a glance as you dashed right by him, already on your way to Matsukawa’s side.
The hand Tooru had lifted to cheekily wave in greeting hung awkwardly at his side for a good three seconds after you passed. He couldn’t suppress the jealousy bubbling in his stomach. It felt acidic, burning and dangerous. However, the player was forced to quickly swallow the venom crawling up his throat as he noticed Kaori nervously shuffling up to him.
“You did great out there,” you exclaimed, handing your best friend his water bottle. He gave you his signature droopy-eyed smile as he took the drink from your hand. Oikawa’s hands were trembling as he gripped the towel your friend had given him, finding the sickeningly sweet smile she wore nothing short of disgusting.
Eventually, after about three insufferable minutes of listening to you chat it up with the lazy bastard you had set your sights on, Tooru couldn’t handle it anymore. He whipped around, setting his sights on your back, which was facing him. Matsukawa quirked an eyebrow at his captain's rigid stance but ignored it, continuing his conversation with you. Without a moment of hesitation, the setter crept up behind you, wrapping his long arms around your waist and setting his chin on your shoulder, dangerously close to your ear.
“I didn’t know you knew Matsukawa, cutie!”
His voice was sultry, and his breath sent shivers down your spine because of his close proximity. Oikawa ignored the flutter in his stomach, opting to let out a sad hum and pout. You sighed, shimmying out of the boy’s hold, before turning to him.
“He’s my best friend.”
There was a warning in your eyes, because you knew he was aware of how you felt about Issei. Tooru feigned ignorance, innocently tilting his head in wonder. Matsukawa rolled his eyes and sighed, bending down and beginning to pack his volleyball bag that was sitting on the bench.
“Don’t be weird, Oikawa.”
Suddenly, he stopped, straightening his posture as he turned to look at you guiltily.
“Ah, Y/N, I’m not going to be able to walk you home today… I have to walk someone else.”
It was difficult to hide the way your heart broke as Issei muttered his excuse, but somehow you managed. After all, you had seen him date other people before. This would be no different. Pulling a weak smile onto your lips, you silently handed him his towel while nodding.
“Perfect! I’ll take her home then.”
Oikawa’s quip had been unexpected, and left your jaw to drop slightly in shock. Oh, hell no. You desperately pulled out your phone, hoping to feign getting a text from your parents. Before you could turn it on, a hand covered the screen, keeping you from clicking anything. Fear gripped your heart as you slowly dragged your gaze up, meeting the playboy’s face. You then noticed the knowing grin that was playing on his lips.
There would be no way out of this one.
You quickly learned that slowing your pace in hopes of being able to lag behind slightly and defeat the notion that you two were really walking home together didn’t work, as Tooru would just wait for you to be by his side before beginning his walk again. The silence was deafening, and unfortunately it gave you time to mull over the entire reason you were walking with the team captain in the first place - Matsukawa had been busy with someone else.
You had no right to be jealous. You and him weren’t even dating, for god's sake! Unfortunately, that didn’t stop said emotion from plaguing your mind, mixing with the poignant sorrow that already sat there. It was a wonder that you weren’t used to this, you had been in love with Issei for two years and he had never shown any romantic interest in you. For so long, you stood idly by while he weeded through girlfriends and crushes, unable to ever confess your own feelings.
Silently clutching your bag a bit tighter, you willed your eyes to stay glued on the pavement in front of you. Your slight tenses didn’t go unnoticed by Oikawa, who’s chocolate brown orbs flickered to you the moment you moved. He was quiet for a second, drinking in your conflicted expression and stance, before dragging his gaze away.
“Does he know how you feel?”
You weren’t able to verbally answer, choosing to just shake your head instead.
“Thought so,” he muttered, a wry smile playing on his lips.
The absence of conversation was slightly more comfortable after that, but you didn’t know how much longer you could hold back your tears. It just hurt so, so much. Without even a glance in your direction, Oikawa placed his hand gently upon your head, his lithe fingers slightly carding your locks aside to find a comfortable resting place. This action froze you in your spot, which it seemed he predicted, considering he stopped at the exact same time. When you turned your face to him, intending to question his strange behavior, his hand slipped to your cheek, thumb caressing under your eye with unrivaled gentleness.
“Don’t cry over someone like him. He doesn’t deserve it.”
There was a certain softness in Tooru’s eyes, the brown seeming more like the color of oak bark when bright leaf filtered sunlight hits it just right. But deep down in his gaze, somewhere hidden below, was a darkness, something terrifying and dangerous. Against every cell in your body, your cheeks heavily heated at the affectionate action.
After a few moments of trying to catch your breath, you realized your surroundings looked eerily familiar. Once you spared more than a glance at them, it hit you - you were outside of your house. How did you get here so quickly? And how did Oikawa know where you lived? He never once asked for directions. Before you could ask any questions, he removed his hand, giving you a gentle nudge towards your front door.
You offered a small smile, turning on your heel and walking up the path to the entrance. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as you thought he was.
You never did look back to see if he had left.
No, he didn’t leave. Tooru stayed outside your home for almost an hour after you had gone inside, simply watching lights flicker on and off as you made your way through the house. It gave him an odd sense of peace, slowing his heart down to the pace it would take when one was meditating. But any time he thought of the boy who had hurt you, it spiked so violently he had to catch his breath.
How dare he. Not that Matsukawa was worth your time anyways. He didn’t deserve a single sliver of your existence, he didn’t even deserve to breathe your air. No, and he wouldn’t any longer. You were an angel among men, a diamond in the rough, and any other person was lucky to be in your presence.
You needed to be protected.
Everyone else would only hurt you, they would only taint you and use you like Matsukawa did. Well, lucky for you, Oikawa was more than glad to fill the role of the princess’s knight. He would burn the world down if it meant you would be his.
Flicking out his phone, the captain typed a few things before holding it up to his ear.
“Hey, Matsukawa, can I come over? I have some homework questions.”
𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 : @kray-dragon , @lagoonsmainacc , @steampunkhell
#x reader#reader insert#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere haikyuu#haikyu x reader#haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#haikyu#yandere oikawa#oikawa imagine#yandere hq x reader#hq x reader#hq x y/n#hq yandere#oikawa tooru#oikawa x y/n#oikawa x reader#yandere oikawa x reader#yandere x you#yandere haikyuu x reader#yandere haikyu x reader#hq yandere x reader
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