#i can’t believe i’ve only read one of these
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loss of my life
alexia putellas x reader
Alexia never brings you up during her weekly lunches with Mapi. Today is different.
; angst
It’s a harmless question that Alexia knows the answer to. She doesn’t even know what prompts her mouth to ask that question, but she feels like dying inside with every thought of you, so she doesn’t see the harm in doing so.
“y/n?” Mapi asks back. “Well, you know… She’s good, I guess.”
Alexia rolls her eyes at Mapi’s attempt to be vague. “I’m not going to break.”
Mapi looks up at her, her eyes softening. “I know,” she stays quiet for a moment. “Do you really want to know?”
Alexia looks hesitant, but she nods.
“She’s happy,” Mapi states, looking anywhere but her best friend. “She’s seeing someone. Leah. Lucy introduced them.”
Alexia averts her gaze down to her food. She knows this, she sees Leah’s face every time she opens your Instagram–a habit that she should stop doing if she wants to stop the aching in her heart.
“Ale…” Mapi sighs, placing her hand on top of Alexia’s.
“I’m fine, Mapi,” Alexia tries to act flippant about it, but she has never been good at hiding her emotions. “I’m glad that she’s happy again.”
Mapi purses her lips, looking like she’s about to say something. After a few seconds she does, “She asked about you too, you know.”
“Really?” Alexia hates how her tone sounds, as if she’s been waiting for that to happen.
“In passing once, when we were having dinner at her place,” Mapi takes a deep breath. “Just, how you were and stuff.”
Alexia nods. That’s better than nothing. That means you still remember her somehow.
As if Mapi can read her mind, she says, “She’s not going to forget you, Ale.”
“I wasn’t thinking about that.”
“But I know you.” Mapi places her utensils down, wiping her mouth with her napkin. “By the way, this food is so good. We should come here more often. I know Ingrid would love it.”
“I miss her,” when Mapi gives her a look, she corrects herself. “Ingrid. I was talking about Ingrid.”
Mapi looks at Alexia like she doesn’t believe her, but she says nothing. “She misses you too. She’s sorry she couldn’t make it to lunch, she’s been really busy these days.”
“You two are okay… right?” Alexia knows the answer to this too, but she just needs the confirmation.
“We are,” Mapi says, her eyes instantly lighting up. “We’re set to move to the new place next month. You’re coming to the house-warming party right?”
Alexia knows that if she does, she’ll see you. She doesn’t know if she’s ready to see you again, especially now that you have someone new. Seeing her ex-fiancé with her new girlfriend on a phone screen is one thing, seeing it in front of her own eyes is another. Alexia knows Leah is visiting. It was all Keira had been talking about.
Mapi, sensing Alexia’s reluctance, gives her a small smile. “You don’t have to... How about, Ingrid and I will text you when they leave, and you can come then?”
With the amount of gatherings Alexia has missed, she starts to feel bad. She knows her situation with you is placing their mutual friends in an uncomfortable position. So she swallows her heartbreak once more and smiles at her best friend. “Don’t be silly, of course I’ll be there.”
“If you’re sure. We can always have our own after-party.”
Alexia shakes her head. “I’ll be fine. Besides, I think I need to see the rest, they’ve been bugging to meet me.”
Mapi laughs. “Jana won’t shut up about how you only accept to go for lunch with Ingrid and I.”
“Yeah,” Alexia grimaces. “It’s hard when all of my friends are her friends too. Every time I see them, I just get reminded of her. I need the break. Besides, I’ll see you all when training starts again, so…”
“Do Ingrid and I not remind you of her?” Mapi looks genuinely curious.
“That’s different,” Alexia shrugs. “I’ve known you since forever, you’re my best friend. And Ingrid is Ingrid. I can’t just not see you. Even if you do remind me of her, I just have to suck it up.”
“Fair point.”
“What did you mean earlier, by the way?”
Mapi looks at her questioningly, “What about?”
Alexia stays silent, staring intently at her food. When Mapi is about to ask her one more time, she speaks up, “About her not forgetting me.”
“Oh, you know,” Mapi takes a sip of her drink. “When you two were together, you were always worried that she would forget you, which I still don’t know where that came from. She was crazy about you.”
“I don’t know either.”
That’s a lie. Alexia knows perfectly why she acted the way she did, but she’s never going to tell anyone about it. She knows that you deserve better than her, that she can never give the love that you wanted, and even though she still loves you, she wasn’t going to let you stay unhappy with her. Alexia knows that she wasn’t meant for you, she just needs to start accepting it so she can move on.
When Mapi doesn’t reply, Alexia speaks again, “It’s pathetic isn’t it?”
“What is?”
“Me.”
Mapi stares at Alexia in disbelief. “Don’t say that.”
“It’s true,” Alexia shrugs. “It’s been a year. She moved on, while I’m still stuck here.”
“People heal at their own time.”
Alexia takes a deep breath. “Maybe I’m not meant to heal. I only gave her pain when we were together, maybe this is my punishment.”
“Stop beating yourself down, Alexia.” Mapi looks sad, and Alexia curses herself for always putting the mood down.
“I can’t help it, I’m sorry.” Alexia tries her best to give Mapi a genuine smile. “I’ll get better. For all of you.”
Mapi leans forward, taking Alexia’s hand in hers. “I want you to get better for yourself.”
Alexia knows that, but she still can’t help but feel that she doesn’t deserve to get better.
“I kissed someone else,” Alexia reminds Mapi. “When my fiancé was waiting for me at home.”
Mapi squeezes her hand even further. “I know you have your reasons. Not that I condone cheating,” Mapi grimaces. “It’s just… You loved y/n so much, you wouldn’t do anything to ruin your relationship. Something must’ve happened.”
“I don’t know, I can’t seem to remember my excuse anymore.”
Mapi shrugs. “Well, that’s in the past. Like you said, y/n has moved on. It’s fine if you start doing the same, Ale.”
“I’ll think about it.”
Mapi grins at her. “That’s better than nothing.”
Alexia smiles back at her. “Let’s go. You told Ingrid you’re on your way thirty minutes ago, she’s going to wonder where you are.”
And when Mapi laughs, Alexia can’t help but laugh back. “She can wait. I only get to see you once a week, I see her everyday.”
“You’re lucky,” Alexia gives a wistful smile. “Spending the rest of your days with the one you love.”
“You’ll find someone again, Ale.”
Alexia knows her answer, “probably not,” and she’s about to say that when she sees the hopeful look on Mapi’s face. So she puts on her best happy face and answers, “Sure.”
#alexia putellas x reader#woso x reader#woso fanfics#woso community#woso#alexia putellas imagine#alexia putellas
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I’ve been seeing a fair amount of discourse over whether or not Ricky September was a good person, and I feel like a lot of it takes a very black and white view of Ricky as a character.
One of the recurrent themes in this season (and, well, a large portion of the show), is the importance of hope. And I think that’s what Ricky is supposed to represent.
Hope that there’s kindness in the world.
I think we can all agree that that was basically his thing, right? He didn’t have to help Lindy through the slug monsters, but he did. He didn’t have to try to save her life, but he did.
Everyone else we meet in FineTime is self-centered, vain. Their friendships feel artificial. And that’s probably because they are artificial since they never talk face-to-face. They literally live inside a spherical object that also acts as an echo chamber they can personally curate. That’s one of the most literal metaphoric interpretations of “in a world of their own” I can think of.
And right when it seems that life this way will be the death of them all, here comes this ray of sunshine named Ricky September. He immediately shows Lindy kindness even though she’s a complete stranger. And then they hug, what is likely the first empathetic touch ever in her life. Tells her that he spends most of his time unplugged and reading and learning. He does the Doctor grabs a hand and yells run thing. And when he sees that Homeworld was destroyed, he lies to Lindy so that he doesn’t kill the hope that’s keeping her running for her life—to see her mom again.
I know can’t be the only one who thought, “Oh, maybe his kindness will rub off on Lindy, and she’ll be a better person in the end!” That’s the hope.
That’s what Ricky represents; he’s the hope that, as long as empathy exists in this world, things will get better.
Hope that people can change.
The only shadow in this perfect ray of hope is the fact that, just like everyone else in FineTime, Ricky September is racist.
His micro-agressions aren’t as, well, aggressive as Lindy’s, but they are there. His hands are fidgety and he's distracted. He's giving awkward smiles and chuckles. He does seem uncomfortable working with the Doctor.
But we know that Ricky has empathy. He shows it when he saves Lindy, but I think the most jarring example is when he says he read about manual labor and said, "That life was tough." Lindy's response. "My sit at a desk for two hours and gossip with my friends job's not easy. I get chapping." And he learned this empathy through reading instead of spending all his time online. Which is where he learned about pulse codes, too. So he's empathetic and willing to learn.
(On a side note: Lindy's lack of empathy by this point should have clued us in that she was beyond redemption)
And that's I have no doubt that, had he survived, he would have pushed his biases aside and taken the Doctor up on the offer to travel. He would have worked to unlearn the institutionalized hate he was raised in. He's the hope that people—that we can change, become better people.
Unfortunately, Ricky is just different enough for Lindy to other him in order to justify sacrificing him to save herself.
The real lesson Ricky September teaches us.
Unfortunately, Ricky being a symbol for hope is exactly why he had to die by, essentially, Lindy's hand.
Hope simply existing isn't enough to bring change. If we just sit back and hope for a better world, nothing will get done. We have to act on that hope, be that hope, because if we don't, those trying to maintain the hate will snuff us out. And not just for ourselves, but for our fellow man.
If we just sit back and hope for a better world, nothing will get done. We have to act on that hope, be that hope. And not just for ourselves, but for our neighbors, too. If we show each other empathy, we can reach more, spread more kindness, be the change.
But if there's no empathy, then there's no hope for our survival.
And that, I believe, is the lesson RTD wanted us to see.
#I did not mean to write an essay#oops#clearly i'm putting my english degree to good use#doctor who#doctor who spoilers#dw#dw spoilers#dot and bubble#fifteenth doctor#ricky september#lindy pepper bean#doctor who meta#dw meta#doctor who analysis
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What I read in May.
All great!
Nearly read every Elizabeth Strout book now and they’re all perfect, though this probably less so than the Lucy Barton/Olive Kitteridge ones
I cannot believe I never read Susan Cooper as a kid, I can’t wait to continue this series
Very impressive, creepy, funny Atwood poetry and short fiction
The ninth (ninth!) of the Robin Hobb books I’ve read, the only modern-ish giant under-edited fantasy series I’ve ever Ben able to get on board with. Too long and oddly paced, but better characters than any other similar series, love them.
Instagram / Shop
#my art#books#artists on tumblr#booklr#illustration#bookstack#paperbacks#fantasy books#realm of the elderlings#margaret atwood#elizabeth strout#susan cooper#the dark is rising#monthly reads
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i just read your sae fic and it was absolutely amazing, gorgeous, life-changjng! and when i went on to check your masterlist for bllk, i was shocked when you were the one who wrote the nagi x reader x kira fic bc I've been following it for a while and then i immediately tapped the follow button :x but if you can (only when you have the time and energy), can you write rin whose family is a host for exchange student! reader from another country? it could be hs or college, depending on whichever you're comfortable with. thank you <33
── CHERRY TREE
Synopsis: You are one hundred percent convinced that Rin Itoshi hates you — and he does, but not exactly in the way you think.
Event Masterlist
Pairing: Rin x Reader
Chapter Word Count: 6.2k
Content Warnings: cheesy and cliched asf, otoya and KARASU <3 make brief appearances, rin is rude ngl but reader is as well, rin does not know what a “crush” is, he’s probably ooc as well atp i should just include that on all of my works jic
A/N: i can’t believe i started bllk because of a rin edit and yet i’ve never written for him…also i’m glad you liked seabird and peregrine anon!! thank you for following 💖 sorry it took me a min to respond to this
Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.
If you didn’t know that your parents would probably put you in an early grave for wasting their money, you would’ve caught the next flight back home from Japan in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, you were far too afraid of their ire, which meant you were stuck in this hostile environment until the end of the semester — assuming, of course, that you managed to survive for so long.
Over the summer, applying to your university’s special first-semester-abroad program had seemed like a good idea. You were already going to be traveling far from home to stay on campus regardless, so your reasoning was that you might as well experience a different culture while you were at it. Besides, the program claimed to pair participants with a host family that would be good fits for their personalities and needs — based on a survey, which in hindsight you really should’ve lied on — so you would be living in relative comfort, at least compared to the ancient dorms on the main campus that probably had thirty different species of mold growing on their walls.
Or, well, that had been the plan. Maybe it was even a reality for the rest of the people in the program, who had no doubt been placed in normal homes, with normal people, who had normal children and normal lives. For you, though, it could not be further from the truth — because you had had the great misfortune of being chosen to live in the same house as Rin Itoshi for the duration of your stay in Japan.
To put it simply, he hated you. He had started hating you from the moment you stepped foot into his house and put your things in his brother’s old room, and he had not stopped since. If you happened to cross paths with him, he’d scoff at you, and considering the fact that the two of you lived in the same house, this was a frequent occurrence. Whenever you tried speaking to him in Japanese, he’d wrinkle his nose and respond in English, telling you that you were so terrible at the language, you might as well give up now and move back to your country early. Once, his mother had suggested he take you to hang out with his friends, as you were all roughly the same age, and he had rolled his eyes so hard that it was a surprise they didn’t get stuck in the back of his head.
There was no doubt about it: your mere existence was a burden to Rin. You couldn’t explain it in any other way; after all, how could he have decided he disliked you before you had even spoken? So you did your best to be as helpful and kind as possible, keeping the house neat, cooking food whenever the elder Itoshis had to work late, staying silent if he happened to enter the same room as you, and offering nothing but slight smiles if you were forced into an interaction with him.
“You know,” Mrs. Itoshi began one day, as you were eating the dinner she had made for all of you. Rin was on your right, and Mr. Itoshi was across from him, his jovial face such a contrast to his son’s dour look. “Rin’s on the Japanese soccer team.”
“Wow,” you said noncommittally. You hadn’t known that; you had assumed that Rin’s hobbies involved throwing stones at unsuspecting children and tripping old ladies as they crossed the street. Soccer had been the last thing you expected, though it did explain his admittedly splendid physique. “Very impressive.”
“Not really,” Rin said.
“Why don’t you take her to watch your practice over the weekend?” Mrs. Itoshi pressed.
“She’s not interested,” Rin said. Of course, you really weren’t — why would you want to watch Rin and his friends kick around a ball for a few hours? It would be a waste of time, time that you could spend working on homework or clearing your ‘to-be-read’ list. But you also weren’t fond of people speaking for you, especially not him. He was the last person who could claim to know anything about you, so by what right could he say that you weren’t interested?
“Actually, I wouldn’t mind going,” you said, batting your eyelashes at him innocently when he glared at you out of the corner of his eye, his expression one of utter disgust and incredulity.
“There you have it! Be sure to introduce her to your teammates. I’m sure they would love to show her around,” Mrs. Itoshi said. Rin snorted.
“Oh, I’m sure they would,” he said, though when he did, it sounded different than what Mrs. Itoshi had surely meant. But you were obviously the only one who picked up on it, and you didn’t want to make dinner unpleasant, so you could only ponder what he might’ve meant in your head instead of asking him outright, as you really wanted to.
Although it was the weekend, Rin’s practice was early in the morning, before the day could really heat up and make exercising unbearable. That meant it was before even the sun’s rise that you were following after him, your books clutched in your arms as you waited at the bus stop.
“Why’re you bringing all of that?” he said when the awkward silence grew to be too much for either of you to bear.
“I’m planning on getting some homework done while I’m there,” you said.
“Why didn’t you just stay home if you wanted to do homework?” he said as the bus pulled to a stop in front of you and the doors flew open. Due to the early hour, there was almost no one else on the bus, but given your unfamiliarity with the route, you still followed after Rin, sitting across the aisle from him and putting your things on the seat beside you.
“I dunno,” you said. “I guess I wanted to meet your teammates. Since they would just love to show me around.”
“Stay away from them,” he said. “They’re a bunch of NPCs. All of them are probably the worst people you could ask to show you anywhere.”
“NPCs?” you said. “That’s pretty harsh to say about your own peers.”
“It’s not like we’re friends or anything,” he muttered, crossing his arms petulantly. “I’ll call them what I want.”
“Sure, whatever you say,” you said, massaging circles into your forehead to ward off your impending migraine. Rin raised his eyebrows.
“Got a headache?” he said, in that same clinical, detached voice he always used.
“Yeah,” you said. And you’re making it worse. You wanted to add that, but you thought it probably wouldn’t be prudent, so you kept your mouth shut.
“Don’t stay up so late on your phone, then,” he said.
“It’s the only time I can call my friends and family. They’re in a different time zone,” you explained before pausing. Why did you feel the need to justify yourself? It wasn’t like Rin particularly cared either way. He was just giving you that advice because he wanted to boss you around and be rude to you. It was a symptom of dislike, not worry.
You had imagined Rin to be an obsessively punctual person, but to your surprise, it seemed like you both were actually some of the later ones to show up. Perhaps the rest of the team was even more concerned with earliness than him, or maybe you had somehow caused him to be later than he typically was, but either way, by the time you walked onto the field, the others had already gathered, chatting amongst themselves while they waited for their coach to arrive and start the practice.
“There he is! We were beginning to think the world might’ve ended,” a boy with dark, styled hair and a beauty mark beneath his left eye said with a grin. “Nothing less could get you to miss practice, eh, Rin?”
“It still might have,” another boy said. His pale hair was streaked through with green, and he wore an inviting smirk as he pointed at you. “Yo, girl. What kind of blackmail does he have on you? Blink twice if you need help. We’ll get you out of there.”
“Um, he’s not blackmailing me or anything…” you said, glancing at Rin for aid before remembering that he would probably rather jump off of a cliff, backwards and into the jaws of a dozen waiting sharks, than help you out.
“So you’re hanging out with him willingly?” the pale-haired boy said. “Yikes. You can do much better.”
“I kind of have to hang out with him,” you said. “I’m staying with his family for the semester.”
“Oh, you’re the exchange student!” a third boy, this one with icy blue hair and wide, pretty eyes said. “We’ve heard a lot—”
“All of you, be quiet and leave her alone,” Rin said, finally, thankfully speaking up. “Otoya, don’t even look at her, or I’ll make sure you’re benched for the rest of the season.”
The pale-haired boy — Otoya? — held his hands up in the air and whistled innocently, shooting you a wink when Rin turned to address the rest of his team. You raised your eyebrows but suppressed your giggle, not wanting to condemn him to further rebuke from Rin.
“This is Y/N L/N. She’s the exchange student my family is hosting. She wanted to come watch our practice because…actually, I don’t really know why,” Rin said shortly. “But she’s just going to be doing homework on the bench, so if any of you were planning on showing off to impress her, then you can give up on that idea now.”
Otoya noticeably wilted at this, but the others didn’t seem to mind. The first boy, the one with the beauty mark and the strange hairstyle, gave Rin a thumbs up.
“Don’t worry, Rin, we’ll leave the showing off to you. It’s about time you—”
“Shut up!”
They must’ve begun practicing at some point, but you hardly took notice, too busy typing up the outline for an essay you had due in a couple of weeks to care much about what they were doing. Occasionally, someone would shout out a particularly creative insult, and you would have to pause your work to identify the trash talker in order to be able to congratulate them later, but for the most part, you were lost in your own world.
“Hey.” Just the sound of Rin’s cool voice was enough to send shivers of fear down your spine, and you hastily closed your laptop as you looked up at him. “Practice is over.”
“Okay,” you said. “Will you introduce your teammates to me now? I know you told them who I was, but I’d like to at least meet some people my own age.”
“Nope,” he said. “Let’s go.”
“Hold on, I only even came because I wanted to meet them!” you said. “Outside of school, you’re the only one I know. I get that you don’t want me infiltrating your friend group or whatever, but you literally said you don’t like these guys, so why’s it a problem if I become friends with them?”
“They’re so dull and half-baked that your opinion of this country will actually fall if you interact with them further,” he said. “This is just my national pride talking. Come on.”
You stomped after him. What was his problem? He didn’t want to be nice to you, but he also didn’t want anyone else to, either. Was he that determined to make you miserable? Why couldn’t you have been placed in a family with children who weren’t so weird and annoying? Which question had you answered incorrectly on the survey that had resulted in your match-up with the Itoshis? You wished you could retake that stupid quiz and end up somewhere else. You wished that Rin had been the one sent to Spain instead of his older brother, who was certainly more well-adjusted. You wished that you hadn’t chosen to study abroad at all, that you had instead stayed at home with your friends and had a typical first semester like everyone else.
After that day, you stopped even pretending to be polite to Rin. Both of you were cold, hissing insults whenever you passed in the hallways of the home, leaving the room if the other happened to enter, and generally doing what you could to make each other’s lives difficult. It was only in front of Rin’s parents that you maintained some semblance of civility; after all, making Mr. and Mrs. Itoshi choose sides in your silent war would be unethical and wrong.
“I really don’t get it,” you said to your best friend one night, the covers pulled up over your head, your phone screen dimmed so that you were not blinded by its light. “He’s such a jerk, and for what?”
“Boys suck,” she said, hunched over a calculus problem set. The time difference meant that sun streamed in through her window as she wrote, illuminating the shining graphite of her neatly penciled answers. “Did his teammates mention anything suspicious the one time you met them? They’d probably know better than you or I why he’s acting the way he is. Maybe this is just how he is with everyone — if that’s the case, then you can be reassured that it’s not something you’re doing wrong.”
“Not really,” you said. “He forbade all of them from talking to me. Which, by the way, is a real tragedy, because some of them were super cute.”
“Really?” she said.
“Want descriptions?” you said.
“As much as I would like to say yes, I need to focus on this problem set, and anyways, it’ll just make me jealous, so no,” she said.
“Jealous? Let’s trade places, because at the moment, I’m jealous of you. Maybe all of the guys at your school are ugly, but at least you don’t have to deal with Rin!” you said.
“Is Rin attractive?” she said.
“No — actually, yeah, I can see why a person would think he is,” you said. Personal biases aside, Rin really was very handsome, and that combined with his aloof arrogance afforded him the aura of a YA novel’s male lead. There was no doubt in your mind that he was popular with girls; however, you doubted he himself was aware of this fact. “He’s such a dick that it cancels out, though.”
“Personality is important,” your best friend said. “Oh, fuck!”
“What?” you said.
“I’ve been forgetting to add the integration constant to my answers. Easy fix, no worries. You can keep talking,” she said.
“Thanks,” you said. “There isn’t really much else to say.”
“Well, if you couldn’t get anything out of his teammates, why don’t you try talking to him?” she suggested. “Ask him to his face why he doesn’t like you.”
“Isn’t that kind of uncomfortable?” you said.
“Not like things can get much worse than they already are,” she said.
“True,” you said. “But the thought of confronting him is actually sickening. I’ll pass. This is character building, isn’t it? I’m going to come back home as an entirely new woman. You won’t recognize my mental strength and fortitude.”
“Sure, looking forward to it. I miss you,” she said.
“Miss you more, but it’s pretty late here, so I’m going to have to hang up,” you said, yawning.
“Goodnight, Y/N, and sleep tight. Don’t let Rin Itoshi bite!” she said.
“Oh my god. Go do your homework,” you said, hanging up before she could respond and almost immediately passing out as the moon rose higher and higher in the sky.
Things between you and Rin continued on in that tense manner for the next few weeks, until you became convinced that your heart might give out from the stress. You couldn’t continue to live in this way. You were supposed to be enjoying your time abroad, not counting down the days until you could finally go home.
Rin was watching a horror movie on the computer when you barged into his room. A woman screamed in sync with your entrance, and you jumped at the jarring sound. Rin did not react, clicking on the mouse to pause the film and then turning in his chair to face you.
“What?” he said.
“What? What? What do you think?” you said.
“I wouldn’t have asked if I had the faintest clue why you were storming into my room in the middle of the night,” he said coolly, crossing his arms. “The movie was finally getting exciting, too. So, what do you want? Hurry up and say it.”
Your eye twitched. “I want to know what your problem is.”
“Huh?” he said.
“Why do you hate me? What have I ever done to you that’s made you so determined to ruin my life? I could even understand if you didn’t want to hang out with me, but you brought me to your practice and then refused to let me talk to just about anyone! What’s the big idea? I just want to enjoy my semester!” you said.
“Oh,” he said. “That’s easy. You’re ruining my soccer career.”
“I’m ruining your soccer career,” you repeated dubiously.
“Yes,” he said.
“Care to elaborate on how I am accomplishing that, exactly?” you said, your hands on your hips. “I went to one practice, and I didn’t even speak the entire time. If your career can be ruined so easily, then it isn’t much of a career in the first place.”
He huffed in aggravation. “I keep thinking about you. It’s messing with my head. I need to focus on soccer and getting better, but for some reason, I can’t stop my thoughts from wandering to places they shouldn’t. It’s worse because I can’t escape you. If I could have just one day to clear my mind, I could forget about you and get back to considering more important things, but you’re always there, worming your way back in.”
Now it was your turn to be confused. “What?”
“I don’t get it, either. You’re not that special, so why can I quit it? Even my teammates have begun to notice. The other day, Isagi told me to go home early because I was ‘bringing nothing to the team.’ Isagi said that! Yoichi Isagi said that I was useless!” he said.
“That would be a lot more impactful if I knew who that was,” you muttered.
“You’re only here for a few more months, right?” he said. “After that, I can get back to my earlier performance and things will return to usual. Just leave me alone until then.”
Confronting Rin had the opposite effect that it should have. Instead of making things better, they actually became worse. What did he mean by saying that you were ruining his soccer career because he couldn’t stop thinking about you? What a stupid excuse! You weren’t that tiresome, so for him to claim that you were taking over his mind because of that was an offense.
“Y/N, Rin, will you be alright by yourselves for the week?” Mrs. Itoshi said when, once again, you all were gathered to eat dinner. The Itoshi parents had thankfully not yet noticed the enmity between you and their son, so family meals were a regular occurrence — meals in which you and Rin were made to sit by one another and act kindly, lest you make things awkward for Mr. and Mrs. Itoshi, too.
“It’ll be fine,” Rin said, answering for the both of you, the downturn of his mouth daring you to argue. “You guys should have fun in Spain.”
Apparently, Sae had invited his family to visit him in Madrid for the week that he had off from training, but unfortunately for the both of you, Rin was unable to go due to his practice schedule. It was unfortunate for Rin because it meant he couldn’t see his older brother, who he had the world’s most complicated relationship with, and it was unfortunate for you because it meant you couldn’t get a break from Rin’s dramatics.
The week started off normally enough, which meant that you and Rin did not speak, leading your lives with as much separation as was possible. It was actually easier than you were expecting, mainly because Mrs. Itoshi had left you both enough food to last the week, so you could eat when you wanted to instead of having to sit with one another. Gone were the days of turbulent coexistence at meals; now, you could finally enjoy eating without worrying about the boy beside you! You almost wished his parents would never come back, just because of that rare peace.
The fourth night was when it all went wrong. You were video calling your best friend as a storm raged outside, ranting to her about your professors and the heaps of homework you received every day, when the lights flickered.
“Is something wrong with your wifi?” she said. “You’re breaking up.
“It’s raining,” you said. “Pretty hard. The power’s kinda spotty, but I’m hoping it holds—”
The universe must’ve heard your words and decided to play a joke on you, because in that moment, the lights turned off and your call disconnected with a sad beeping sound, alerting you that your poor connection was what did you in. Pouting, you set your phone aside and stared up at the ceiling of the room, deciding you might as well try to fall asleep, given the late hour. Even if the power was out, you wouldn’t be able to tell with your eyes shut, so it was really the best option.
There was a scratching sound on your window, causing you to jolt into a sitting position once more. Rin had watched a horror movie just like this the other day. You remembered it clearly because you had turned on a rom-com once it had finished, and he had called it lukewarm, which made you so mad that you had turned the TV off and gone to take a shower instead.
What had been the plot, again? Oh, right. The power had gone out, and the victim thought that it had been because of a storm, but it had actually been a serial killer taking advantage of the weather to mess with her house’s fuse box. He had done it so that the cameras didn’t catch him as he climbed into her house through her unlocked window and stabbed her in her sleep. The resolution was that her neighbors saw him and called the police right before he killed them, too — yeah, it was a pretty gory film. Lots of blood and knife wounds. You weren’t sure what enjoyment Rin derived from watching it, but you figured it was another one of his irrational attributes that defied explanation.
Another scratching sound. Had you locked the window? What if the power outage wasn’t due to the storm at all? What if Rin had accidentally manifested the same ending for you as that stupid movie? And you were home alone, too, the scenario was just so similar…
This time, the scratching sound was more like an eerie drag of fingernails against the glass, and you couldn’t help yourself. Squealing, you turned the flashlight of your phone on to guide your way as you sprinted out of your room, racing towards the only other inhabited place in the entire lonely house.
“Rin!” you shrieked, convinced that the shadows were actually ghosts come to haunt you and strangle you and bury you alive. “Rin, wake up! We’re both going to die!”
The door to his bedroom banged open, and you pointed your phone at him, the harsh white glow sharpening the angles of his features, the awkward hang of his pajamas off his body, the way his normally neat hair stuck up in every direction.
“What are you talking about?” he groaned, using his hand to shield his vision from the blinding radiance of your flashlight.
“Do you remember that movie you were watching the other day? The scary one, with the fuse box?” you said.
“Yeah?” he said, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and yawning. “Point your flashlight at the ground, stupid, or you’ll blind me.”
You did as he directed, belatedly remembering that the two of you very much did not like each other. But beggars could not be choosers, and it remained that at the moment, Rin was your best chance at survival, so you had to stick close to him.
“It’s happening,” you whispered. “It’s literally happening to us right now, as we speak. The serial killer already cut our power, and now he’s trying to break in through my bedroom window, and then — and then he’s going to kill us!”
“I cannot believe you woke me up for this,” he said.
“I’m serious!” you said.
“Seriously dumb,” he said. “Why would somebody try to kill us?”
“Don’t you have any rivals that hate you? Maybe they’re taking advantage of the storm to do you in while they have the chance!” you said, creeping closer to him.
“I play soccer. I’m not in a gang,” he said dryly. “No one’s going to come murder me for being better than them, trust me. Or else I’d already be dead.”
“Go see for yourself, then!” you said. “Wait. But I’ll go with you. People who split up in horror movies always die. There’s real merit to the ‘safety-in-numbers’ theory.”
“How many horror movies have you watched, to make you such an expert on them?” he said.
“You always have them playing, so of course I’ve learnt by osmosis!” you said, inching along behind him as he trudged towards your room. He gave no response bar a click of his tongue as he yanked open the door you had slammed shut in your haste, striding in authoritatively, grabbing your phone and lighting his own way with it instead of relying on your shaky hands.
He pulled the curtains open with a flourish, and you cringed, using his broad back to hide yourself, expecting to see some grotesque face and keeping your eyes screwed shut so you didn’t have to be met with the visage that would spell your death.
“Hey. Y/N. Open your eyes, dumbass. You made me get up because of a damn tree,” Rin said, shaking you by the shoulder.
“A what?” you said, opening your eyes against your will and then blinking properly when you saw there was nothing there but the boughs of the cherry tree planted in front of Sae’s room. The frenzied wind caused the branches to rub against the window, and this, you realized, was the source of the sound you had been so afraid of. “Oh. A tree.”
“I’m going back to bed,” he informed you. “Wake me up again and you really will be dead, but it’ll be at my hands, not some imaginary serial killer’s.”
You tried. You really tried to stay asleep — you were an independent woman, weren’t you? You had gotten full marks on all of your midterms. You had flown to a different country and learned to live there without much trouble. You had shared a house with Rin Itoshi for the past couple of months, and he was more like a creature out of a nightmare than anything else ever could be. Sleeping alone when the power was out was a piece of cake. You could do it.
It was not, in fact, a piece of cake, and you could not, in fact, do it. Tip-toeing to Rin’s room, you knocked as lightly as you could, half-hoping that he did not hear. You doubted he had made his earlier threat lightly, after all, and there was a real chance that this action would be your last.
“What now?” Rin said, answering the door a few seconds later. You crossed your arms and stared at the floor obstinately, your pride not allowing you to say anything. He waited for a moment, and then he pinched your upper arm. “Are you sleepwalking? Hello? Wake up if you are, so that I can get to bed myself. I have practice tomorrow, and I need to be well-rested!”
“I’m not sleepwalking!” you said. “I can’t.”
“You can’t sleepwalk? Okay,” he said. “I didn’t really care either way, so there was no need for you to tell me.”
“I can’t sleep at all!” you said. “It’s because of those dumb movies you always watch and those creepy games you play. I keep thinking that something’s going to happen, even though I know that those things aren’t real.”
He narrowed his eyes at you, like he was trying to discern whether you were telling the truth, and then he ran a hand through his hair.
“You have problems,” he said. “They aren’t real, but whatever. Come in.”
“Uh, what?” you said.
“I’ll take the floor, and you can sleep in my bed,” he said, rolling his eyes like you were the ridiculous one for being taken aback by the offer. “That way you can be less nervous.”
It was the kindest thing he had ever done for you, and you almost called him out for it, but then there was another crack of lightning, so you opted not to argue, darting into the room after him and diving into his bed without a second thought.
“Hand me a pillow,” he said, settling on the ground with a blanket he pulled down from the top shelf of his closet. You were about to throw it at him before wavering, considering what he was truly doing for you. Rin Itoshi, who was so careful with his body, who was a pro athlete that required an exact amount of sleep and the perfect balance of nutrients, had woken up in the middle of the night twice and was now offering to sleep on the floor, all because you were afraid of a power outage.
If only there was electricity! You needed to call your best friend and get her opinion on this. You had avoided telling her the results of your confrontation with him, believing that she would just make fun of you, but for some reason, you thought she might be interested in this development. You thought that she might be the only one who would understand it, because obviously, neither you nor Rin did.
“Um, you can have the bed, if you’d like,” you said, pushing the blankets away reluctantly, your neck protesting at the mere prospect of spending the night on the hardwood. “It’ll be bad for your back if you’re on the floor.”
“It’s not a big deal,” he said. “At least, it won’t be, if you give me that pillow.”
You caved, giving him the pillow and rolling to the opposite side of his bed, which was even larger than the one you were used to. He grunted out a thank you, and then both of you were silent, but it was obvious that neither of you were asleep.
“Rin.”
“Yes?”
“We could share. Your bed is pretty big, so if we put pillows between us, it won’t be weird. Anyways, it’s only until the power comes back, and then I’ll go to my room, so it won’t even be for that long,” you said. The suggestion was met with sputtering from the ground.
“You — me — what — share? No way! No way, terrible idea, why would you suggest that?” he said.
“I just feel bad that you have to be on the floor, that’s all,” you said. “Especially because it’s your room and you’re doing me a favor.”
He didn’t say anything for so long that you were certain he must’ve fallen asleep. “I don’t mind sleeping on the floor for you.”
“Really? I thought you hated me, though,” you said. The bed creaked from an unexpected weight dropping on it, and when you shifted, you saw that he had settled beside you, fluffing up a pillow to serve as a barrier, his face a light pink as he lay on his side to face you. You did the same, peering up at him over the pillow and swallowing when he did not avoid your gaze.
“I do,” he said. “A lot. But I also don’t.”
You furrowed your brow. “I don’t get it.”
“I’ve never been distracted by anyone or anything before,” he said. “That’s why I hate you. I hate things I don’t understand, and I don’t understand why you’re constantly on my mind.”
“Am I that annoying?” you said.
“Yes,” he said flatly. “You’re annoying every time you smile or laugh or say something — say anything, and you’re especially annoying when you act friendly towards my shitty teammates, especially that ninja bastard Otoya. You’re annoying whenever you talk to me, and you’re annoying when you do your homework instead of watching me at the practice you asked to go to. Your lukewarm movies are annoying, and so is your hatred of anything horror-related. It’s annoying that you’re nice to my parents, and it’s even more annoying that you’re better at coming up with insults than I am. You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met.”
You didn’t need your best friend to translate this for you. Despite what Rin liked to say, you weren’t that stupid — you had been selected to study abroad out of hundreds of applicants, after all, and for the first time, you were so grateful for that fact. Because the thought of somebody else being here, in this bed, hearing these things from rude, haughty Rin Itoshi, was unbearable.
“Do you have a crush on me?” you said. He immediately stiffened, his eyebrows drawing together, low and heavy over his half-lidded eyes.
“No,” he said.
“Sure,” you said. “That’s good, because I’m going to leave soon. It would be problematic if either of us liked one another.”
“Exactly,” he said.
“You’re annoying, too, just to be clear,” you said. “The most annoying guy I’ve ever met in my life. Super annoying.”
“Uh-huh,” he said.
“I’m telling the truth. Once I go back home, I’ll be incredibly bored. No one back there could ever hope to irritate me even half as much as you do,” you said.
“Good,” he said, and at that you smiled into the softness of his sheets, hiding the expression from him. “They’re not allowed to. You’re the only one who makes me feel like this, so the reverse should also be true.”
“I won’t be able to come here again for a while,” you said after a bit. “Likely years. I’ll be busy with school and work and my friends and family, so it’ll probably be goodbye forever when I go.”
Rin’s voice was sleepy when he spoke, reminding you of the late hour and how early he had to wake up daily.
“Then I can finally focus on soccer again,��� he mumbled. “That’s a relief.”
You reached across the pillow to pat him on the cheek. “Yes, you can.”
“After I retire, I’ll come and find you,” he said.
“That long?” you said. “What if I forget about you by then? Because I might.”
“Don’t,” he commanded. “Wait for me. Let me win the next World Cup, and then…and then…”
His words trailed off into a soft exhale as he finally succumbed to sleep. You allowed your hand, which still lay against his face, to trace his jawline before retracting it and holding it close to your heart.
He was definitely still a jerk, but maybe you did not hate him quite as much as you had thought You did. Actually, maybe he wasn’t that bad at all, and maybe you could not imagine what an existence without him, which you had craved so desperately only days earlier, might be like.
You weren’t sure what would happen if that day he spoke of came, if he did fly across the world to find you after the next World Cup. Would he still be himself, or would he be some gentler version? And what of you? Would Rin Itoshi still be someone you paid any mind to, or, by then, would he just be a not-so-fond memory? The strange boy who may or may not have had a crush on you, who was obsessed with soccer and horror movies, who argued with you constantly and made you more infuriated than you had ever been…well, if you thought about it, then there really was no chance of you forgetting him at all. Not so quickly.
So you sighed, turned away from him and let your own eyes shut as well. The house was dark and still, the familiar hum of the refrigerator silenced, the crushing of the ice-maker temporarily halted. Only Rin’s steady inhales and exhales cut through the blackness, lulling you to sleep despite the atmosphere you had previously found sinister.
“I guess I have no choice, huh?” you said as you, too, drifted off. “Brainless, rude, pesky Rin Itoshi. Fine, then. If that’s how you want it…I’ll wait. Just until the next World Cup, I’ll wait for you.”
#rin x reader#rin x y/n#rin x you#itoshi rin#bllk x reader#bllk#blue lock#reader insert#canon au#m1ckeyb3rry milestone#m1ckeyb3rry writes
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Hi Maja.
First of all, your blog is one of the only ones I’ve always felt was sincere, on point, respectful, and not toxic. I’ve always had a good feeling about you and how you are kind despite all the toxicity on here.
That feeling has never wavered and there is a big part of me that wants you to be right and win against these ridiculous anons that seem to want to put you down.
An opinion (which I don’t claim to be fact, just some thoughts here): I see a lot of takes on here popping up from blogs that claim they have PR knowledge and claim to be experts and read and follow along the gossip, but I think nobody really knows and they can only hypothesize on what they think is the truth.
I think CE being married (by public knowledge and Wikipedia) was the main goal here. I’ve always sort of felt this, which is why I ultimately was not surprised after he did his SMA spread that he went public with Fish girl and then later on “got married.”
The reason I say this is because HW and society is very judgmental and superficial. Being single or unmarried at a certain age always raises questions whether or not it is valid to do so. I disagree with this sentiment but unfortunately the world is how it is. It happens to regular people, so why wouldn’t it apply to celebs? Especially the ones who have basically become a pop culture icon of being an eligible bachelor/desirable.
Let’s think about this. After 2019, CE was no longer under the marvel umbrella. He had to start defining his post marvel career, and then Covid hit. So many things derailed. He randomly got an IG in 2020 but people found out it had existed as an account since 2019. Perhaps it was always the plan or it was a plan hatched by his PR team to keep him in the public eye. He became relatable internet BF with a Prince Charming storyline of when will he find the one? It was almost overkill from 2020-2022.
Now it’s 2024 and he’s supposedly been with this woman since 2021. It shows longevity and then eventual commitment. He now wears a ring in public so they see him as “settled down.” That’s the image he is now portraying for the public who doesn’t dig or care to deeper in his life.
I don’t think it’s about rebranding to attract a younger audience - if so, his pr team would have realized that gen Z actually does not fare well to age gaps and the subject of grooming and etc always comes up for this hypersensitive on PC/wokeness generation. Then add on the racism and weird ass crap from her/her friends. Definitely not boding well for a generation that lives on the internet and knows how to deep dive. His PR team would have looked at how the public reacted to other relationships like this and I feel, if it was simply he was in love with her and it was real real, would have told him to keep it on the DL DL until it was absolutely certain they had walked down the aisle. At that point, there would be no turning back.
But they marketed this before that happened. They wanted to portray her as the one similar to how in movies, they want to portray a main character and love interest as meant to be even if the audience may or may not receive it that way. How many times do we hear “this movie tanked because the leads had no chemistry and the relationship they wanted us to believe was not believable?”
But ultimately, the endgoal of if CE and his wife are a good couple or not doesn’t really matter. They have achieved their goal of he is now settled down and no longer on the market. If you choose to continue to follow him, stay for his career and not his personal life. Meanwhile, her - well, they’ll keep trying to make her happen because her end of the deal was getting more visibility and breaking into the American market. That much has been clear.
But you can lead a horse to water, you can’t make it drink.
What she chooses to do with the opportunities given to her are left to be seen. Also, how the public and CE/her fanbases chooses to receive them are also left to be seen.
Will this marriage last forever? I have doubts. But I do think they considered many options and this is what they came up with. I also don’t believe CE’s actions show he is very happy with the arrangement, even less so than fish is. Because even from the subtle clues from photos and “videos” - body language does not lie.
To be fair to fish, I doubt she’s in love with him either. I think she’s getting more benefits from this because most of the negativity is being directed towards him, not her. His fans hating and harassing her are just a pinnacle of what he’s receiving from his own fanbase. Some people will disagree with me but he’s the one getting the P and G and disgusting comments and being called the worst person on earth because he married her. His own fans are turning on him and her fans can also blame him but victimize her. The general public doesn’t care too much but will say how he looks because he got with her. She remains “innocent” of any blame because at the end, she is young and he is older so he should know better. Do you see what I mean?
Meanwhile, her fans are just happy she’s getting attention and somebody to fund her poor attempts at becoming a fashion icon. She lacks in talent and work ethic but it’s an easy way for her to get engagement by being attached to him.
The day this ends and she no longer has his name will be interesting and that’s what I think his fans (remaining) are hoping for. They don’t want to reward laziness and clout chasing opportunist and I too support this. They want HIM to be better and find success and love himself more so he doesn’t continue to end up in these shitty situations. But again, he has to want that for himself. He has to want to deserve better so he can work on actually deserving of better.
I hope I didn’t offend anyone with this opinion. Just my thoughts and I support YOU. I hope things work out in the end in your favor because you are a great person and I selfishly want you to be right (haha). ❤️
I completely agree with everything that you wrote down.
I remember seeing people criticize him for saying he wants to get married and have a family, yet he is still single and childless. As you said, it's stupid that people are being bullied and judged because they haven't already settled down, even if they wanted to. Finding a partner is hard, and finding a partner in his shoes is even harder. I obviously don't know whether he actually wants all of that, but saying he must not want all of that because he didn't do so is not right. A lot of people struggle with finding a good partner.
I never agreed with people calling him by the P and G words. I guess these people either don't know what those words mean or are simply that mad as Chris that they feel the need to spread lies. He is not those things and never was. Yeah, 16 years is a lot, but she was a grownup when they allegedly met, and I think people exaggerate when they say she looks like a child.
I think the reason most people are hateful towards him is because they are disappointed in him. I think most people had an idea about the person he is based on the information we had, and him being married to someone like her or even dating someone like her doesn't really fit into that. People aren't disappointed in her because most didn't even know who she was before Chris. We were just presented with her actual self, and we didn't have any expectations from her. But we had for him.
I doubt either of them is in love with each other. Alba doesn't seem that happy or comfortable around him either. I think this is just business for both of them.
I still think he is a good man who made a terrible mistake. I just hope the best for him, to be honest, which I know is an unpopular opinion now because it seems like wanting the worst for him is what is trendy nowadays. Maybe I'm naive; maybe I'm just holding onto an image, but I don't think the last 20+ years were a lie. I hope he will prove me right.
Thanks for writing this down and for being there. ♥
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infected boys - 1
billy hargrove x steve harrington
cw: 18+ minors dni, first person pov, mutual masturbation, pining, drug use
He interrupts me, “I feel bad. I can’t stop thinking about it. You like me, Billy. You have a… you have a crush on me.”
“Alright, King Steve, calm down,” I scoff, not wanting pity from the guy. Either he likes me back or he doesn’t. I live either way. “I read you wrong. It’s no big deal. We can be friends.”
“It’s a big deal! Billy, it’s… do you?” He turns towards me.
“Do I what?” I play stupid. I know what he’s asking.
“Like me,” he breathes, sounds like he can’t believe it.
Or
Billy has a crush on Steve but they’re friends now.
read on ao3
Alright. I’m stoned and maybe the acid is starting to kick in. The Marlboro waves in front of my eyes each time I take a hit but I did accidentally squish the box in the door when I was stumbling in to take a piss so now all the cigarettes are kinda crumpled. The particular one I’m smoking has a slight tear in the paper above the stamp but I’m determined to not let it go to waste, though it ain’t hitting like it should. I feel like a dumbass about it. Susan was filling the dishwasher and the dumb thing is positioned in front of the garage door so when I opened it, cheap particle board wedged into the plastic door of the dishwasher. My boots are a little too heavy for my intoxicated state and I swayed against the garage door, smashing the box of cigarettes when I did so. Susan looked at me with angry eyes and like, scolded me. Like she’s my fucking mom. And the bitch doesn’t do housework often, so I told her I didn’t expect her to be doing the dishes. She said something about how l didn’t need to open the door so forcefully. I had to piss.
That’s all besides the point. The cigarette is moving. Or I think it is. I smack the back of my hand against Steve’s Member’s Only jacket and wiggle my brows, eyes trained on the Marlboro perched between my lips. I mumble around the cigarette, “You seein’ this shit?”
Steve’s voice is all out of sorts. Gooey and gargled, like there’s syrup dripping down his throat. Guys gotta be more fucked up than I am. Sounds like he was miles away when he replies, “Huh?”
“It’s moving. Waving,” I inform him before inhaling, watching as the ash stem lights up and burns through the paper. “See?”
“I— no,” Steve murmurs disappointedly, “I think I got a bum tab.” His fingers scratch at his bony knee, eyes trained on my cigarette and he’s squinting like maybe if he tries hard enough the acid’ll work.
“Could’ve fooled me,” I cackle, “You sound high.”
Steve heaves a sigh and sinks in the chair, “Just stoned.”
I shrug and pull the cigarette from my lips, “Give it a sec. Mines working.”
Tommy’s guy usually comes through but to be honest, I don’t know much about acid. I’ve only taken it a handful of times and never was I anywhere near sober before. It’s certainly in the realm of possibility that Steve did get a bum tab. Once I glance up at Steve, I’m sure my acid has kicked in. His hair is waving too. Like the waves I used to glide through back home. It curls and recedes, calmingly. I’m tempted to run my fingers through it but I’m luckily, not that far gone. Especially after the last time we got high and I woke up in Harrington’s bed, boxers around my ankles and a fat hickey on my pec. We haven’t talked about it. I don’t remember what happened and I’m fucking praying he doesn’t. Hawkins is too small. Word like that’ll spread like wildfire and land on the unaccepting ears of my father. And I had fully anticipated on sticking to women when we moved here, but Harrington is pretty and after I tried to rearrange his face with my fists, he became kind of the only real friend I have here. Tommy’s a friend, I guess. But I don’t tell him whatever I’m thinking and we don’t stay up late, sharing secrets and dreams. Steve’s different. At first, I thought we were like, total opposites. Deep down, we’re both just really fucking lonely.
“Wait,” Steve sits up with his eyes wide, “Your hair is growing.”
I smile smugly, shaking my head to illuminate his hallucination, “Everyday.”
“No,” Steve giggles and that smile makes my stomach churn. I kinda want to punch his face again. “Like I can see it growing.”
“Bum tab, my ass,” I quip and kick his ankle with my boot. As I grab for my can of beer, I remember it’s empty and it’s the last one. “Think you can walk, pretty boy?”
Steve hums, sticks his feet out and kicks them like he’s checking to make sure they still work, “Yeah. It’s doable.”
Now normally I’d drive, but the last time I did while on acid, the lines in the road curved when they really didn’t and Hopper pulled me over with a disgruntled look on his face. But when he insisted he drive me home, I told him Steve’s address. And his face got all contorted and scary but he didn’t say anything. Just drove to Loch Nora, knocked on the door and asked Steve, “He live here?” to which Steve replied, “Tonight he does.”
That’s when I decided I liked Steve. And not just ‘cause I thought he was good looking and he was fun to talk shit at. He cared enough to let me stay, and he combed my hair out with his fingers while I laid my head in his lap and told him what I’d been up to that night. We don’t talk about that either.
“‘Kay,” I stand on wobbly legs and announce, “Minute Mart, here we come.”
Harrington follows me through the open garage and out onto the street. It’s the rare occasion we’re at my place. Steve’s is usually safer, but dad’s been on my ass about being gone all the time and I guess maybe, I’m a little attached to Harrington ‘cause I still wanted to see him. And he never turns down a sleepover. I think he’s lonely.
Cherry Lane is dark at night. Not like in Loch Nora where the street lights only shut off when the sun's out. Again, my boots are too heavy and I know I’m stumbling, so I accept when Harrington grabs my bicep to steady me. Minute Mart is the only place in Hawkins that’s open 24 hours a day and luckily, it’s the closest convenience store to my house. It’s like, usually a fifteen minute walk. But I’m seeing like fifty more slugs on the sidewalk than I normally do. I freeze, pointing at them as they wiggle around.
“Those real?” I ponder, leaning into Harrington’s support.
He frowns and purses his lips, “They are now.”
“You’re a dickhead,” I tell him with fondness and he pushes us forward, exaggeratedly hopping over slugs that may or may not exist. I let him do it, like they’re secretly explosive or something and I step over the ones he does.
When the neon lights come into view, I feel excitement dripping down my throat and my mouth waters at the promise of more cheap beer. Most likely free because Harrington doesn’t often let me pay. Which is fine. ‘Cause the money I have is slim and I’ve been saving it from my summer job at the community pool. Once we’re inside, I make a beeline for the cold beer and Harrington dilly dallies around the plastic wrapped pastries. A true opposite in our personalities. The man loves sugary things. Even keeps a damned candy bar in his glove compartment of the Bimmer. I asked him if he was diabetic when I found it.
Once I’ve successfully obtained the sixer, I meet back up with Steve and his hands are full of snacks. He empties them on the counter and beams at the bored cashier. I slide the cans up beside the sweets that make my stomach queasy just at the sight alone and ask for a pack of Reds.
“It’s pretty late, isn’t it, boys?” the cashier points out as he pokes at the register.
“Maybe it’s early,” Harrington offers as he pulls out his wallet. I cackle but the cashier doesn’t seem amused, counting the bills Steve hands him.
“You owe me a dollar,” the guy insists and I rip my wallet from my pocket, racing Steve to hand him the bill. I win and Harrington grumbles but I feel proud I could contribute something.
The walk back is brutal, it seems longer than the way there but that’s probably because it’s uphill on the way back and now our hands are full. But once the pulsing porch light my dads been bugging me to replace forms into view I’m antsy. We have to sneak back in. And go to my room. The doorknob vibrates as I stare at it. Harrington is the one to twist it open. Walks through the living room without a care in the world and I’m jealous, know I could’ve done the same thing but I just couldn’t. Don’t trust the quiet and the darkness.
He collapses on my bed as I shut the door, sprawls out on it and his polo rises up enough that I can see the trail of curly brown hairs leading down to what I’ve been too chicken to really think about. Now, in the isolation of my room and the weed, booze and acid clouding my judgment, I think about Harrington’s cock. How I’ve seen it soft in the showers at school. And worse, how I’ve potentially seen it hard and don’t remember. The fact that I want to see it, want to touch and taste it.
“We have to be quiet,” I whisper, more to get out of my sinful thoughts than to warn him.
Harrington hums, eyes closed as his hands scratch at his stomach and result in exposing more of his abdomen to me. My stupid, gay thoughts run wild and I imagine getting my lips on that soft, mole speckled skin. I really wish I could turn on my stereo, drown out these thoughts but dads voice in my head helps enough. Faggot, on repeat has me avert my eyes and grabbing a beer. I don’t allow myself to sit on the bed with him, instead I lower to the floor and rest my head on the mattress. My eyes flutter shut without really trying, I’m starting to feel exhausted from the short walk to the Minute Mart. The sound of Harrington’s steady breathing fills my ears and it’s almost like a lullaby, I can feel myself starting to slip away while waves of brown hair flood my closed lids.
I don’t realize I’ve fallen asleep until the sun starts peeking in through the blinds and birds start singing a symphony of early morning alarms. I’m unrested, bones aching everywhere and I wonder if I even slept or if the acid hallucinations just felt like dreams. I look at the alarm clock, it’s 6 am. Dad’s probably already left for work so I figure it’s safe to crawl into bed with Harrington. His skin is warm. I don’t mean to press into him but he’s in the center of the bed, sprawled out like a starfish. I turn on my side so my back is pressed to him. He makes a gargled, sleepy noise and wiggles around. Which gives me more room but now our skin isn’t touching which I’m only a little bit bummed about. God this is stupid. It’s a bad idea being friends with Harrington. But hey, being friends is better than hating each other. He turns.
His arm hooks around my waist and I fall back asleep easily.
—
Harrington has an impressive skin mag collection. It would be creepy, but they’re pristine. Organized chronologically. Playboys, Hustler, Penthouse. He’s got them all. Stacked neatly in a plastic tub hidden in his walk in closet. He showed it to me about a month ago and we haven’t brought it up since. But now we’re sitting in the living room, skunky air permeating from the joint we shared. And weed makes me horny. I think it makes everyone horny. It makes Steve about ten times dumber which I didn’t know was possible but it is, he pants like a dog when he’s stoned. His eyes look thoughtless and I have to call myself a fag so I stop staring at him. Harrington doesn’t notice when I stare at him or if he does, he doesn’t say anything.
“How long you been collecting them nudie mags?” I try to ask casually, hoping Harrington can’t tell from my voice that my stomach and thighs are tight and warm with arousal.
His eyebrows shoot up as his face contorts deep in thought. Mouth pursed as he tilts his head, counting behind his eyes. Up in that empty little head of his. Except Harrington has a huge head. All square. I chew on my cuticle as I look at him, waiting for him to answer. His hazy mind is making it harder for him to remember, I can tell by the way he scrunches his face up before he finally replies, “Got my first one when I was like thirteen? Kinda got obsessed after that. Not even like for the porn part, they’re just pretty.”
“The girls?” I assume and Steve laughs softly before shaking his head. His chestnut hair bounces with the motion. His hair moves a lot.
“The photos. The girls too but they’re just cool. I like the ads a lot,” Steve explains as he reaches for his can of Coke.
I laugh, “Gay.”
Steve rolls his eyes before reaching his hand out and shoving my bicep. I ignore how his touch lights my body up. It’d be pretty fucking embarrassing to pop a stiffy right now, though I could blame the weed. ‘Cause it’s definitely the weed making me feel this way and not because Harrington’s eyes look green with all the red clouding the whites.
“I literally jack off to them, how is that gay?”
“To the ads? That’s super gay, Harrington,” I cackle, leaning back against the couch as I bring my beer to my lips.
Steve groans, “No, dickwad, I jerk off to the girls.”
“You got a favorite?” I ask, eyeing him over the rim of my beer. I’m itching for a cigarette but Mrs. Harrington can somehow tell if someone smoked inside. And what particular model has Steve’s dick hard is more pressing than my need for nicotine.
“Yeah, obviously,” he laughs, though it sounds nervous. Am I making him nervous? And why does the thought of that have my balls tightening?
I smirk at him, “Go get ‘em. Let’s see if your taste in women is as piss poor as your taste in music.”
“You have no respect for the classics,” Steve kicks my ankle as he stands and hops up the steps. I do, but my dad would actually like it if I listened to Sinatra instead of Tank. And that would make me sick if my dad approved of anything I like. It was funny when I asked Harrington what he listened to besides the radio. And he said big band. I almost hacked up a lung laughing and choking on the bottle of whiskey we were sharing. He insisted it was good and put on a Sinatra album super loud. The worst part is he sang along and Christ, Steve can sing. Crooning up to the ceiling and I hated how sexy he sounded.
I hear Steve’s heavy feet down the steps before I can cock my head around to see him. About ten magazines in his arms. He drops them carefully on the coffee table. More than half are Hustlers which makes me chuckle because I know those are the actual filthy ones. It’s not just chicks, you get to see cock in pussy. I don’t own any. I have a pathetic collection of Penthouses. And a tried and true VHS tape stashed where dad or Max won’t find it.
“Alright, Harrington, who is the girl that gets your dick hard, let’s take a look,” I say with a sigh, like he’s burdening me with this stuff and I didn’t ask.
Steve makes a face at me, mock offensive but his long fingers grip a magazine and he then he narrows his eyes at me. “Listen, this is vulnerable and I’m just warning you, I haven’t looked at this spread without getting a boner.”
“Like Pavlov,” I chuckle and nod for him to continue but he looks at me confused.
“Pavlov?” his nose wrinkles, “Is that a model?”
“No, like the scientist,” I explain, thinking that might clear things up but his face still looks puzzled, “Like Pavlov’s dog? Ya know… he conditioned dogs to—“ Steve stares at me blankly so I wave the thought away, “Nevermind, show me this smokeshow.”
Harrington has a goddamn sticky note marking the place of the centerfold. He flips it open and points with his hand, “She’s my favorite.”
It’s a blonde. She has big and bright blue eyes, long and curly black lashes and pretty pink, plush lips. She is hot. I can’t deny Steve’s taste. Funny though, this is a Playboy. It’s the most tame you can get. Steve just finds this girl pretty enough. She’s nude, but she wears knee high black boots. Her bush is thick so you can’t even see her pussy but she has full, round tits and pink nipples. I take a glance at Steve’s face and it’s flushed, just from looking at her.
“Why don’t you hang it up in your room if you like her so much?” I wonder, lowering my arm down over my crotch. My cocks filling out quick. The girl is hot but the fact that Harrington beats his meat to this photo is the real reason my own dick is getting hard.
Steve gasps and laughs, “My parents would kill me. Plus, I’d fucking get hard every time I walked by it. Isn’t she a babe, though?”
“Oh, yeah,” I muse, looking closer at the spread, “Her tits are massive.”
“Yeah,” Steve breathes, “But like her face… she’s pretty.”
I wonder about Steve fucking girls. If his eyes are on their faces. I look at their bodies. So I ask him, “That where you look when you fuck?”
“Faces?” he asks, my eyes catch his palm moving down to press against his crotch.
“Uh huh,” I say and because he’s doing it, I also rub my palm against my cock. It makes my eyes roll back. I didn’t even realize how turned on I was until now.
“Yeah,” Steve breathes out harshly, “I like to watch how they react. Like the pleasure on their face.”
It occurs to me that Steve and I have sex with girls very differently. It’s more about me getting off, I don’t really care if they do. I’m selfish where Steve gets off on his partner's pleasure. I have to grip my cock through my jeans then. Christ. That’s stupid hot. This is bad. But Steve flips the page and the centerfold is exposing herself. Red acrylic nails spread her folds for Harrington and I to see. My eyes scan the other photos and yeah, this is as nasty as it gets.
“Kinda tame,” I note, “What else ya got?”
Steve chews on the inside of his lip as he reaches for a Hustler. Again, there’s little sticky note bookmarks sticking out of the pages. This is his spank bank. And he’s showing it to me, completely unashamed. It’s way different than looking at Tommy’s collection. Tommy’s isn’t taken care of like this. His pages stick together. And Tommy has more tapes than magazines.
“This one’s nice too,” Steve mumbles as he peels open the magazine, it’s a couple. Guy with a huge cock, girl on him. Reverse cowgirl. Holding herself open for the guy. I can’t help but glance at Steve again. His face is so flushed. And for some reason his lips look… bigger. Begging to be bit. But that’s gotta be my dumb, gay imagination. C’mon Billy. Focus on the porn, not the fucking bimbo of a man beside you. Except Steve’s knee knocks mine and fuck. Alright. We’re doing this.
“That’s what I’m talking about,” I mumble as I unbutton my jeans and shove my hand into them, gripping my cock. Steve seems to take that as a cue and does the same, I try my fucking hardest not to stare at him stroking himself under his jeans. I really try.
It shouldn’t be as hot as it is. Steve’s hand moving under his jeans. I’m setting the pace here so I push my jeans down to my calves, lazily palming myself in my underwear. Steve follows suit and I can’t help myself, I gotta ask.
“What would you do? With that blonde,” I mumble out, moving to cup my balls.
Steve inhales sharply and out of the corner of my eye I can see the head of his cock bobbing up and down against his white briefs. Alright. It’s not a problem. I’ve looked at his cock in the showers. I’ve seen it soft. And it was hanging then. From the small glimpse I’ve got now, there's no fucking doubt that Harrington is packin’. There’s heat in those stupid whitey-tighties. I have to look away because if Steve catches me looking this is all over. Eyes on the porno. That cock is huge. Stretches the woman out. Her face says it all, and well, I’ve learned that’s where Steve looks. Alright, Billy. Look at her face. You can do it. Christ, that makes me last longer. Maybe that’s why Steve does it.
“Ah,” a moan, soft and pretty, slips from his lips and I cannot react. Christ, that was hot. He’s vocal right now, he has to be with girls. Fuck, I can’t think about that. I’ll bust. I squeeze the base of my cock and push my underwear down to my thighs. I spit in my hand and return it to my cock, slow strokes up and down.
Steve whimpers as he tugs his underwear down and exposes himself. I glance. I have to. I have to look. He’s huge. Bigger than mine. Bigger than Tommy’s.
“I’d…” he swallows, “I’d eat her out. I— I’m good at that. I been told.”
I’ve heard. There’s rumors about what the hell King Steve meant and I heard more than once it was about his tongue and not his cock. The thought of watching Steve make out with a girls’ pussy has me squeezing my cock.
“Yeah,” I laugh because I can’t help myself, “You like eating pussy, pretty boy?”
“Uh huh,” he moans, stroking his cock faster like my words are fueling his arousal. This is definitely gay but I don’t care. Our knees keep knocking together.
“You ever make a girl cum? With your tongue?” I’m not entirely curious but I can see this is getting Steve going and I’m inclined to push the boundary.
Steve whines, squeezes the head of his cock and I pretend I’m not focused on him in my peripheral. “‘Course, how d’you think I even got that name?”
I laugh because I don’t really know how else to react. I wonder if he’s done this with Tommy. I have and Tommy and I don’t talk during it. Solely pretending to be focused on the porn but I’m not completely new to this shit and Tommy’s adoration drips from him like grease. It’s obvious the dude’s into me and it’d be so easy to pursue. Unlike Steve. In Steve’s head, this is two straight dudes too horny beyond means, hanging out. Casual.
“Are you about to cum?” he asks and well, his strained voice is what got me there but I wasn’t close before that.
“Yeah,” I gasp and then he busts before I do. Lets it shoot everywhere. Neither of us comment when some of Steve’s spunk lands on my thigh but it’s where my vision focuses as I cum, trying to catch it all in my palm as I do so. Steve pulls his pants up and disappears for a moment. Into the kitchen, I think.
Do it, that gay little voice in my head urges and I swipe up the glob of Steve’s cum that landed on my thigh with my clean fingers. Bring it to my lips and lick it off. It’s cooled by now and it’s salty but not all that bitter. My cock twitches sadly against my thigh and my chest and stomach swell with fucking butterflies. I can’t believe I just fucking did that. I try to look natural as Steve returns and hands me a paper towel and then works to clean up the mess he’s made. He’s neat about collecting the magazines and lugs them up to his room. I get up to throw away the soiled paper towel he gave me and then the two of us sit on the couch and watch TV like that didn’t just happen.
—
Steve shows up at the pool one day. It’s weird. But he’s with that lesbian who takes the title of best friend. Even though Steve spends more time with me. I’m not jealous or anything. She’s gay. Not out but I don’t know, I can just smell it on her, I guess. I can confirm it when she’s dreamily staring at a redheaded girl from across the deck. Must be why they’re here because Steve has a fucking pool. I watch as he schmoozes with a handful of people we knew from school. People who talked shit about Steve to me but smile at him like he’s the fucking bee’s knees. And maybe he is.
His eyes meet mine and I smirk, raising my hand to flip him off. Smack my gum to accentuate the tease. Knowing Steve won’t see it like I mean it. Friendly to him, flirtatious at heart. He returns it, both hands lifted up to gesture at me. Then he follows his lesbian friend to a pair of loungers and I patiently wait for him to strip out of his dumb polo.
I’ve got the closing shift and I wonder if Steve’ll hang around until the end of it. Maybe I fantasize a little bit about fooling around in the showers. Maybe I fantasize a lot about Steve. I can do that as long as I don’t act.
Heather’s at my feet, looks up at me incredulously and laughs, “Harrington’s here.”
“Uh huh,” I poke her side with my toe, “Time to make your move.”
“Oh, please,” she rolls her eyes dramatically. “Been there, done that.”
“Yeah? That’s new information,” I scoff, but maintain my smirk to keep it playful.
Heather’s face contorts as she gazes up at me, “Steve’s fucked the entire female population of our graduating class, it’s hardly news that I fell victim to it.”
“Christ, even I have higher standards,” I joke, though it stings. Which is fucking pathetic. He grew up here. Plenty of time to explore his options.
Heather pinches my calf, “Gee, thanks, asswipe.”
“I didn’t mean you,” I kick her softly in retaliation.
Heather is a good friend but she really wants to hook up and doesn’t hide the fact. She’s my type, too. Brown hair with big brown eyes. For some reason, I don’t want to sleep with her. Couldn’t be the boy across the deck. Nah, maybe I just don’t get that vibe from Heather. And I’m gonna ignore the fact that I don’t exactly get that vibe from any of the bitches in this shit hole.
Steve does stay until close but so does Robin. Steve’s her ride. But Steve’s standing at the foot of my lifeguard stand while Robin impatiently waits by the loungers.
“Why don’t you go drop your friend off and we can go do something fun?” I suggest and Steve smirks.
“Yeah? Like what?”
I wanna kick his face because it’s so handsome. I manage not to do so but the urge is still there. I have a couple of suggestions of what fun things we can do but I don’t wanna scare him off so I shrug. “Get drunk. I have tomorrow off.”
“Yeah. Me too,” he says and gazes up at me. “The quarry?”
“I’ll meet you there in an hour,” I tell him.
“Kay,” he smiles before pushing himself off the stand and walking towards Robin. I watch his ass as he walks away. Don’t think Steve’s aware of how big it even is. Kind of unproportionate to his body but it’s… attractive. Like most of him is.
I close up quicker than I should. Skipping stuff I’ll be scolded for later but I’m eager to see Steve again. Always eager to see him and it’s pathetic. I think I need to go on a date to beat down my sexual frustration but I’m worried it’ll be Heather and the whole time I’ll be thinking about how Steve’s been inside her. I think Steve and I are already tunnel buddies as it is.
He’s at the quarry when I get there. He’s on the trunk of the bimmer. Long legs bent at the knee. Changed into jeans and a baggy sweatshirt. He smiles all big when I pull up. Leans back and holds up a fifth of whiskey, shakes it in his hand. We drink too much. We have fun. I like Steve. He’s fun. I don’t get why Tommy hates him so much.
“Hey, pretty boy,” I say as I walk up, sixer in my hand.
We talk about our days, though it was inadvertently spent together. Steve tells me about Robin’s crush. How she’s too scared to talk to the girl I don’t know. But Steve thinks she should just go for it and I get why Robin doesn’t. Because if I took that advice I’d kiss Steve and he’d punch me square in the jaw.
“Truth or dare,” Harrington says before pulling from the bottle of cheap whiskey, grimaces after the shot.
“Truth,” I say ‘cause I don’t trust Steve and I don’t feel like getting up.
Steve hums, leans back against the back windshield of his car and folds his hands over his stomach. He’s deep in thought, I’m pretty sure he had a dare in mind and I’ve muddled it up with going with truth.
“How did you lose your virginity?” he settles on, looking at me with raised brows and smug smirk on his face.
“Huh,” I laugh, shaking my head, “I was thirteen.”
“Jesus Christ!” Steve furrows his brows, looking concerned and maybe he should be.
“She was my babysitter, she was like I don’t know, nineteen maybe?” I continue, “my dad worked a lot. Or drank. I don’t know. He didn’t come home until midnight most nights.”
“Nineteen and thirteen is uh… bad,” Steve mumbles and I ignore the judgment as I continue.
“Anyways, she taught me everything. Started with kissing. Then second base and then third base and uh, one night, we made a home run,” I tell him before sipping my beer.
Steve stares at me slack jawed for a while and it makes my skin crawl so I justify it, “She was a fucking knockout. Huge tits. Fell in love. Then ya know, she started bringing friends around. Before I knew it, I was a fucking Casanova.”
“Wow,” he looks like he’s chewing on it, like he’s not sure what else to say. Things feel weird so I ask him.
“Truth or dare, Harrington?”
“Uh, truth, I guess,” he replies, face pensive but still handsome.
“How’d you lose yours? Wasn’t Nancy, was it?”
Steve laughs, “No, not Nancy. I uh, I was sixteen. It was Heather, actually.”
“No shit!” my eyes widen, shock prevalent on my face, “She literally brought you up today. Didn’t tell me she took your V card, though.”
“I took hers, too,” Steve rolls his eyes, “Summer camp. Awkward. Super awkward.”
“Ya know, Heather said you’ve fucked everyone in our graduating class,” I inform him, knocking my knee into his.
Steve snorts before taking another swig, “That’s an overstatement.”
“I figured as much,” I mumble, turning to look at him. Flushed cheeks. Glassy eyes. I could kiss him but I won’t.
“Like ninety percent of ‘em, before Nancy. I literally haven’t had sex since her. And she and I only had sex twice,” he mumbles, running his palms over his thighs. He looks antsy from this conversation so I pass him a cigarette. Steve takes it hastily, bringing it to his lips and I’m quick to light it with my lighter.
“I fucked Tina at the graduation party but that’s the last time I’ve had sex,” I say and then purse my lips, “Guess we’re tunnel buddies.”
“How did you know I slept with Tina?” Steve snaps his head toward me all indignantly and I cackle.
“You just said ninety percent. Tina’s hot so I figure she’s included,” I explain, lighting up a cigarette for myself.
Steve exhales smoke in my face, then moves to wave the smoke away and I grab his wrist ‘cause he almost smacks me in the face.
“Why are you so obsessed with Nancy if you only hit it twice?”
“I’m not obsessed with Nancy,” he argues.
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“It’s more than sex,” Steve mumbles, “I was in love with Nancy. She’s beautiful, first of all and she’s so smart. And like, really strong willed—“
“I’ve heard it all before, dude. I don’t get it but whatever, yeah, you loved her,” I interrupt.
“Haven’t you been in love?”
“I thought we were playing a game,” I divert but Steve’s slick.
“Ok, truth or dare?”
“Dare.”
“I dare you to tell me if you’ve ever been in love?” Steve looks smug as he says it. I roll my eyes but I’m impressed, though I should’ve expected it.
“Diane Smith,” I say, “She was my girlfriend back home.”
“Why’d you break up?” Steve asks, flicks the butt of his cigarette with his thumb.
“Couldn’t wait to see what Hawkins had to offer my cock,” I say in an exaggerated low voice. It makes Steve roll his eyes but he laughs. “I’m a man,” I finish and grab my crotch crudely.
He shoots me a bratty look that almost has me confessing I might be in love with him right now. But instead I continue telling him about Diane, “She’s a babe, Steve. California bred. Gorgeous blonde hair. Bleached from the sun. Big ‘ol lips and bright blue eyes.” I whistle lowly and remember I still have a photo of her in my wallet so I lift my asscheek up and pull out the leather, filing through until I find the photo of Diane. She’s in a bikini, sitting on a towel on the beach and she’s smiling bright and pretty at me.
“That’s her,” I say as I pass it over. I know he can’t see it well under the moonlight but it’s fine. “Can’t do long distance. As much as I wanted.”
“She’s pretty,” Steve says, looking at the photo. My chest feels tight talking about her… thinking about her. So I have to be a dick.
I snatch the photo away and smirk, “Much hotter than Nancy Wheeler, that’s for sure.”
“Oh, shut up. Nancy’s pretty.”
“Indiana girls are livestock compared to California girls,” I quip.
Steve shocks me then. Asks me a weird question.
“You think that’s why Lucas and Dustin fought over Max?”
I grip his stupid sweatshirt and clench it in my fist, bringing his face closer, “The fuck are you saying, Harrington?”
“Woah, cool it! It was just a question,” his eyes are all wide and worried.
“Nah, come to think of it,” I shake him, “You never told me what the fuck was going on that night I rearranged your face. You got a thing for my kid sister, Harrington? ‘Cause I swear to god, I’ll fucking kill you right now.”
“No! No! I— Billy, nothing like that, I swear!” Harrington worriedly babbles, eyes looking so scared.
I let go of his sweater but I’m still wired, looking at him all crazy by the way he scoots away and exhales sharply, “I… I was just babysitting.”
“Swear to me right now, you ain’t some fucking pervert, Harrington.”
“I’m not. Billy, I’m not.”
#billy x steve#harringrove#billy hargrove x steve harrington#steve harrington x billy hargrove#harringrove fanfiction#harringrove fic#billy hargrove#steve harrington#steve x billy
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Explaining the mythological origins and namesake of Mithra (MHYK): a very long and probably unnecessary post by a mhyk obsessed mythology nerd
Let me just preface this by saying that I haven’t gone through any formal education in ancient history or religions (yet) and even if I’ve researched it quite a bit I’m still bound to make plenty of mistakes. Also my expertise lies in grecoroman myth and I only have very surface-level knowledge of the other religions I mention here, although I’ve recently gone down a rabbit hole in regards to specifically their portrayal of the mithraic figure because goddamnit those wizards have me in a stranglehold and if I can’t combine my two current hyperfixations what’s even the point.
As there is gonna be quite a few different Mithras mentioned I will be referring to the fictional Mithra as “Mithra (mhyk)”. If I mention any other Mithra/Mitra/Mithras assume I’m talking about the deity.
Also this text is quite long so read more under the cut:
As you may or may not know if you’ve read through Mithras (mhyk) wiki page he takes his name from persian mythology! However this is a bit of an oversimplification as Mithra actually appears in pre-Zoroastrian Persian myth, Zoroastrianism, Hinduism, Roman myth and Mithraism, although with slight variations in his name and more significant variations in his role and portrayal.
Unfortunately since I have no knowledge of japanese and am entirely basing my interpretation of mahoyaku off the english translations I can’t attest to if the romanji of his name is accurate nor if japanese translations of mithraic texts make any differentiation between the names of Mithra in the different religions in which he’s present, but going off the romanisation i’ve seen used his name is spelled “Mithra” which is the spelling used for the Mithra in persian mythology and zoroastrianism. In roman mythology and mithraism hes called “Mithras”, and in hinduism he’s called “Mitra”, so Mithra (mhyk) using that particular spelling for his name would imply that he’s more based on the pre-zoroastrian and zoroastrian Mithra.
However after reading about all different Mithras from the different religions I can find possible links and references to all Mithras in Mithras (mhyk) writing so I’m gonna talk about all of them anyways! I’m mostly gonna focus on Zoroastrianism and Mithraism tho since those are the ones I’m able to find the most information on!
The first mention of Mithra comes from 1400 BC where he is mentioned as a Vedic deity (gross oversimplification but Vedic religion is a sort of pre-cursor to Hinduism) and referred to as “Mitra”. He then seems to have spread to ancient Persia where he is adopted into the Persian pantheon, and when Zoroastrianism takes over as the dominant religion in Persia he continues to be a prevalent figure.
Zoroastrianism is (is not was because it’s actually still practiced! fun fact Freddie Mercury was a Zoroastrian) a dualistic religion that focuses on the fight between good and evil, with a supreme being commonly referred to as “Ahura Mazda” and an evil spirit referred to as “Angra Mainyu” whom he stands in conflict with. Gods from the earlier pre-zoroastrian religion are incorporated into Zoroastrianism as beings called “ahuras”and “daevas”, with a few divinities called “yazatas” standing directly under “Ahura Mazda”. One of these “yazatas” is Mithra!
Scholars argue whether Zoroastrianism should be considered a monotheistic or polytheistic religion but many choose to refer to yazatas and by extension Mithra as divine beings that are underneath god rather than actual gods (think like angels), with “Ahura Mazda” being the only true god. However wether or not Mithra counts as a god there are still some scholars that believe that he was worshipped kinda like one!
In Zoroastrianism Mithra is the yazata of justice, the sun, light, friendship (“Mitra” actually means friend!!! it can also mean “that which binds” or oath/contract/covenant), pacts, covenants, contracts and most notably for our purposes oaths. Yep, oaths. As in promises. Sound familiar?
As the keeper of oaths he observes the world and makes sure no-one breaks their promises, and if they do they suffer his wrath, which may have caused him to also sometimes be viewed as a god of war according to some scholars. Mithra follows the path of the sun during the day, and during the night he fights evil demons with a spiked club, which is why the sky is red at the break of dawn (as he smashes the demons to pieces). So yeah the deity Mithra doesn’t get any sleep either, although I find this more likely to be a coincidence than intentional lol. Mithra rides a chariot drawn by four horses with no shadows and gold and silver hooves. He’s described to have millions of eyes and ears that can observe any oath-breakers and arms that can stretch and aid his followers all throughout the world (reminds me of Mithras (mhyk) signature teleportation magic a bit).
Mithra is also one of the three judges in the afterlife. When someone dies the zoroastrians believe the soul remains in the body for three days, after which it goes to the Chinwad bridge. Mithra, Srosh and Rashn judges the soul and if it’s deemed to have lived a good life the bridge widens and the soul can pass through with ease, but if it’s deemed to have lived an evil life the bridge becomes narrow and the soul falls down into the abyss below. The associations with death really aren’t as strong in Mithra as they are in Mithra (mhyk), but its still interesting to see that they’re there.
Mithra is also associated with fire and running water, both of which are considered holy in Zoroastrianism. (Old zoroastrians used to dispose of corpses by tying them up and letting birds eat them as the body is considered impure after the soul departs and thus can’t be cremated or risk getting near running water (as fire and running water is holy). thats not really related to Mithra I just think that’s interesting lol.)
Like many other deities Mithra was later picked up by the romans, where he became known as Mithras. Mithras shares very few similarities with the zoroastrian Mithra aside from etymological links and a connection to the sun, and it’s widely agreed that Mithras is simply the case of romans seeing the worship of Mithra and adopting the name rather than any actual zoroastrians spreading their worship to Rome. A lot of the time in antiquity people would make connections between gods that have similar roles from different cultures and associate them with eachother, and because of this Mithras became linked with sun gods such as Helios, Apollo and Sol. He also became known as “Sol Invictus” which means “The undefeated sun god”! Poor Mithra (mhyk) kinda failed the whole undefeated thing..
One of the most famous mystery cults and an early competitor to christianity was actually dedicated to the worship of Mithras. A “mystery cult” in antiquity refers to a cult which only those initiated are allowed to take part in, and “cult” when referring to ancient cults doesn’t have the same connotations as modern day cults and simply means a sub-sect of a bigger religion with it’s own teachings and rites. Although i’m not gonna lie the cult of Mithras is kinda giving me scientology vibes so. Yeah. Maybe it is a cult cult.
The cult of Mithras, commonly referred to as Mithraism by modern scholars, was a popular cult around the first to fourth century CE. Mithraism was mostly popular among soldiers, merchants and slaves and it’s worshippers consisted mainly of men. I’ve seen split opinions among scholars on wether women were allowed in the cult, but even if they were they most likely didn’t have the ability to climb the ranks in the same way men did. Mithraism had a rank system, where members could do work or pay probably (hence the earlier scientology comment) to learn more of the secrets of the cult and gain higher status.
There were 7 different ranks:
Corax (raven), Nymphus (bridegroom), Miles (soldier), Perses (persian), Heliodromus (sun-runner) and Pater (father), and each rank had their own protective planetary god and symbols.
Mithraism had some sort of an initiation ritual, however we don’t know exactly what that ritual entailed. It’s referenced as including both extreme heat and extreme cold, and inscriptions have been found where an initiate into the cult writes about having been “born again”. Christian writers have described the initiation ritual as being extremely brutal, but this likely isn’t true as those sources are incredibly biased with many christians standing in direct conflict with Mithraism.
The worship of Mithras took place in underground temples known as “Mithreums”. These Mithreums were often formed like caves, and had several altars, seats, a place to prepare food and several reliefs depicting Mithras in his various myths. The most central myth to Mithraism seems to have been a tauroctony, or in other words a slaying of a bull. All Mithraums have a depiction of the tauroctony in them.
In the tauroctony Mithras is shown grappling a bull and stabbing it with a dagger, with several animals almost always including (but not necessarily limited to) a dog, a raven, a snake and a scorpion surrounding them. Wheat grows out of the bulls tail, and grapes well out from the open wound in its throat. Watching down on them is Sol (a sun god heavily linked to and sometimes synonymous with Mithras) and Luna (a moon goddess), and two twins named Cautes and Cautopates stand on either side holding torches, with Cautes torch pointing upwards and Cautopates torch pointing downwards.
Unfortunately since Mithraism was a mystery cult there is not much written down about it’s teachings from actual practitioners, and most written sources we have are either heavily biased, written way after Mithraism stopped being practiced, or both. Most of the information we can gather thus comes from these reliefs, so interpreting what the myth is really about is a bit challenging.
Some scholars have interpreted it to be a sort of creation myth (kinda Ymir style if you’re familiar with norse mythology), which could be further cemented by the possible similarities between some iconography in Mithras birth and Orphic (another cult (although not a mystery one) don’t even get me started we’ll be here all day) creation myth.
Speaking of Mithras birth, he gets born out of a rock! Sometimes as a child but usually as a grown man, and often the torch-bearing twins are present at his birth too. This is also gathered from mostly reliefs and short inscriptions so we really don’t know much about it.
There is also reliefs of some sort of water miracle where Mithras shoots a rock with a bow and arrow and summons water from it, depictions of Mithras hunting the bull, a banquet where Mithras and Sol feast on the bull, a handshake between Sol and Mithras, and Sol and Mithras ascending to the heavens in a chariot. There is also a statue of a lion headed god with a snake wrapping around its body that commonly shows up in mithreums, however we don’t really know who this god is.
Mithraism seems to be heavily linked to astrology and many believe the figures in the tauroctony to be representative of different celestial bodies and star signs, however theres a lot of disagreement in regards to which figure represents what. Some even link Mithraism to some sort of astral ascension, but this is hotly debated.
Mithraism is also believed by some to have inspired christianity, with Mithras often being compared to Jesus. I personally don’t really buy this and see other mystery cults such as those surrounding Dionysus to be more likely to have been inspiration for Jesus, but it’s at the very least possible that Mithraism influenced christmas to be on the 25th of December. According to some scholars Mithras birthday was celebrated the 25th of December (others argue it was more a general celebration of the sun) and early christians may have chosen to put christmas on that day to directly compete with Mithraism. Additionally, many mithrean rituals have been compared to christian rituals and were described by christians at the time as evil imitations of christian practices.
When christianity became the state religion in rome Mithraism quickly declined, but during a good while Mithraism was just as widespread and popular as christianity and some believe that had things gone differently Mithraism could’ve ended up being an important world religion still to this day.
Now all of this is really interesting, but if you came here for Mithra (mhyk) it may not be all that relevant. Lemme tell you what’s more relevant tho: The bull is the moon. Or well more accurately, some scholars believe the bull to represent the moon.
Bulls were sometimes a symbol for the moon in antiquity due to their crescent shaped horns and their association with the moon goddess Selene/Luna. This, in combination with the imagery of Sol and Luna on opposing sides of the depictions of the tauroctony has made some believe that the scene depicts Mithras triumph over the moon and by extension death and darkness.
Additionally, Mitra (the Vedic Hindu version of Mithras) actually has a similar bull slaying story in which he reluctantly participates in the sacrifice of the moon god Soma who takes the form of a bull, so yeah multiple Mithras may do moon slaying. Ig Mithra (mhyk) fights the moon in every universe.
There’s obviously a lot more about all these deities I haven’t gone over but finding credible sources is unfortunately a bit difficult and if I continue I may be here for weeks so!! That’s all for now! I doubt Mahoyakus creators actually knew about all this, but I still think its really neat they chose Mithra as the name for their character considering hes such an interesting mythological figure!! Also ig the Cult of Mithras lives on in all the crazy Mahoyaku fans simping over Mithra (mhyk)..
#ik this isnt art but i put hours into researching it and i think tumblr needs to hear it#if anyone wants me to elaborate i can and will do so#mhyk literary references have me in a stranglehold#mahotsukai no yakusoku#mahoyaku#mhyk#promise of wizard#mithra#mithra mahoyaku
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June Malec fic rec!
Thanking @crystalmir for this month's theme as well (thank you for the different, they were all brilliant)! This time the theme is time-travel! The same rules apply as always, one fic per author, even though all of these authors have other brilliant fics you should be reading and if you want to add your own recs in the comments, tags, or reblogs please feel free to do so! 💜
Also, I have tagged the authors whose Tumblr account I know (aka found on their AO3 profile), but if you'd prefer I not tag you, please tell me! I don't want these to be annoying for the authors.
One-shots:
Time Loop by @Master of Unlocking: Alec is stuck in a time-loop and isn’t dealing well with it. One of my favourite fics when I need some angsty angst.
Warning for (not permanent) character death and suicide! This fic is very angsty even if it has a happy end, so you’re warned.
Summary:
Alec is done.
“You win,” he whispers as he sits down, his back against the wall of the crypt. He rubs his fingers together, trying to brush away the ash that covers them. He looks at the podium and the orb resting on it. Alec finds it hard to believe that such small thing can be the cause of such great grief.
“I’ve tried everything.” Alec looks down at his hands and in the past he would have cried, but he is already out of tears. They are all used up by now. “So you win.”
Your Name For A Capital by @theprophetlemonade: Magnus POV fic where he keeps meeting Alec in the past and it’s just so deliciously angsty and emotional in the best way!
Summary:
“I can’t wait another hundred years to see you again, Alexander.”
He hates it, he does. He hates the way Alec looks at him with a history they haven’t yet shared.
Alec’s fingers dig into his ribs. A moment of hesitation. “You won’t have to wait that long,” he murmurs, quiet enough to be a secret. “I promise.”
“You don’t know that.”
Alec stops, forcing Magnus to stop too. Magnus squints at him, seeing double, but Alec shakes his head. “Magnus, I do.”
“How?”
“Because,” says Alec, and once again, Magnus feels the tug of magic kneading at his skin, a string of fate that wraps around his bottom rib and leads beyond his chest and enters Alec’s in exactly the same place. “You and me, we always find our way back to each other. Whatever happens.”
To endure by @thisissirius: Alec is stuck in another time loop fic and forced to watch Magnus die over and over again. Another lovely fic with a happy end but does have some temporary MCD so beware.
Summary:
“I can’t watch you die again,” Alec blurts out. He rubs his hands against his knees, looks up at Magnus through his lashes. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”
a time loop threatens to confine alec to a lifetime of losing magnus.
Teach Them Well by @ellegy42: Magnus meeting his kids in the past. This fic is just adorable and reading it never fails to bring a smile to my face.
Summary:
When Magnus sees a Shadowhunter chasing a young warlock, he comes to the natural conclusion.
It just so happens to be entirely wrong.
belong by @starkguzman: A blueberry POV that is just sublime and I want to throw all of the praise in existence at this fic. All of it. Just yessssss. Also our favourite blueberry deserves a hug or twenty cuz I said so.
Summary:
He’d only been trying to portal home. He’s done it a million times before and he doesn’t know where he went wrong this time. He had ended up in the loft, but he knew something was horribly wrong from the very first second. Nothing looked the same, nothing felt familiar. The very air he breathed caused his whole body to itch, every instinct he had screaming at him that everything was wrong. It had only been when Magnus had found him that it had been confirmed. While his Papa was exactly the same as he had been the last time Max had seen him, it was so very clear to Max that he was not the same man. A hesitant “Papa?” had only cemented it.
He wasn’t home at all. He was as far from home as he could get.
Everything it has taken (everything it has given) by @lawsofchaos1: hauntingly and painfully devastating like all of Law’s fics. There is again some temporary MCD but if you can handle that then it’s so, so worth the read.
Summary:
The sensation of blood-soaked metallic dirt beneath his cheek is insubstantial and fleeting, overlaid and then replaced with the smooth slide of cheap cotton and Alec jerks back into being entangled in the rough weave of Institute-standard sheets, agony shrieking down his side.
In which the world burns the first time and Alec and Magnus break reality (to burn it down again the right way).
Multi-Chapters or Series
Across the Lonely Decades by @dreaming-marchling: If you haven’t read this yet then please stop whatever you’re doing and go read this (unless you’re working, of course I don’t want you to get fired). This fic is angsty and stunning like all of Marchlings fics are and I am obsessed.
Summary:
Alec, Magnus and their family work to investigate a series of murders that has rocked New York, trying to figure out who this mysterious warlock is that’s murdering people in elaborate and never seen before pentagrams. What the warlock is trying to do isn’t clear either.
Well, it isn’t clear until Alec accidentally activates the spell himself and finds out in literally the worst pay possible.
Beside me by d_aia: A Ragnor POV fic! Alec time travels to the past and meets a past Magnus and Ragnor. I’m pretty sure my love for time travel fics comes from this particular fic. And also, because it bears repeating, Ragnor POV!
Summary:
A portal opened between two trees, and an oddly dressed man came through. He landed on his back and, like a bug, was trying unsuccessfully to turn over. The portal winked closed immediately after.
The man was the tall sort, had a bow and arrow, a couple of blades, and a satchel. He had rune tattoos, which marked him a Shadowhunter. He was also currently writhing in pain and bleeding all over the place.
What was a Warlock to do with such a man?
*
Alec goes back in time. Then things get complicated but oddly sweet, and they stay that way. Ragnor is just along for the ride.
Flames to Embers by @notcrypticbutcoy: Have I already recced this fic? Yeah, pretty sure I have. Will I do so again? Undoubtedly!
Summary:
Jace froze. His parabatai rune burned white-hot, but he hardly felt it. It was easy to forget what people looked like, long ago, but the image of the boy in front of him was unmistakable, even with the emo fringe and the scowl. In fact, when combined with the defensive stance, hazel eyes, and still-healing cut through his left eyebrow, it made the whole thing more convincing.
“What the fuck.”
***
Teenage Alec is magically poofed into the time of his forty-year-old self, and what he finds is really quite overwhelming. Especially the really hot guy he’s apparently married to.
Or: in which Teen Alec is very grumpy, Magnus thinks he’s very cute, and Adult Alec is Tired™.
If My Heart Was A House You'd Be Home by magnusbicon: Max and Raphael do some more time travelling and create just a tickle of chaos (can you tell I adore those two beans).
Summary:
Prompt: Max and Rafe accidentally time travel to present day during a Downworld cabinet meeting.
it doesn’t matter (if it’s now or then) by @soveryaverageme: Soulmate AU meets time travel, what more could you want? 😁
Summary:
Alec’s words were branded across his right forearm, spiraling towards his shoulder. The phrase “I’m Magnus, I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced?” was stark across his skin, as bold as his own love. They were a comfort and a reminder every time he drew his bow back to fire another arrow. He knew every curve and bend of his words. He could trace them without looking.
He had never seen Magnus’ words, but he knew was that they weren’t his.
#Malec fic rec#also @laws#I am still waiting for that Jace fic#You know which one#(Sais with no pressure whatsoever)
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MerMay GhostSoap 3
// MDNI // read at your own risk //
Johnny didn’t say a word about his venture into the restricted room to anyone, not even his roommate. He was beyond terrified, and worried he’d lost his own mind, let alone be fired for going somewhere he wasn’t supposed to.
He didn’t get reamed out for losing his lanyard like he thought he would, but there were questions that he’d built a lie for. His lie was far fetched and they believed it, or maybe they just indulged his horrible lie because they didn’t care.
Johnny learned his lesson about keeping it around his neck, and stuffing it into his pocket. He outlasted the week trial period and soon he’d get his paper check, letting the others down with his presence. He hadn’t seen Garrick around but assumed he was due to see him.
The anniversary of his week and a half employment was rolling by when he saw him again, smiling bright as usual.
“Hey. Good to see you still stuck around here.” He stopped before him in the halls, a duffel bag he kept his tools in clinked at his side. “How are you holding?”
Johnny didn’t know what to say; he’d been scared out of his mind for the week on what he could’ve saw in the water. Even too afraid to stare too long into the tank and see his reflection morph again. He was considering leaving and never showing up again. But the pay was good, and he needed to pay rent.
He blabbered off some nonsense that had Garrick chuckling. He liked the sound of that noise. It filled the hallway until it was swollen with something.
“I’m just glad you came in today. It’s good to see you again.” To that, it sounded like he was leaving.
“Hey.” Johnny came to his side, stifling his movement. “I know I’ve already asked you about the tank and everything but — what’s in it?”
Kyle looked at him with some amused look. “Shepherd has a hobby for collecting rare things.”
Johnny blinked at him. “So you’ve told me.”
“Look, John.” Garrick’s tone became serious, but some airiness remaining to keep it lighthearted and friendly. “You’ve got a good job here. Good benefits. Sometimes you should let the questions roll off. I stopped asking questions a long time ago.”
“I can’t help it. It makes me me.”
“And I find that admirable.” Garrick hesitated to put his hand out, pressing his palm into Johnny’s shoulder. “But you don’t have to be brave here. Just — watch the tank. Okay?”
Johnny glanced between his dreamy eyes, and assumed this was some sort of complacency tactic. They sent the dreamy eyed man to strangle the lively, curious bunch back in line and no one would say a thing because he was charming. Siren-like.
Johnny did that for his shift. Sat at his desk, idling thumbing through the book he’d brought in, and not reading a single word. He fixed his eyes on the tank ahead of him.
Every time Kyle had come by, it had become somewhat cleaner, brighter, but still harboring that darkness that could only be seen within the crevices of the ocean. His mind began to drift of some otherworldly thoughts of angler fishes and dreadful prehistoric anomalocaris’ swimming around, — when a flicker of something white flashed in his eyes.
He brought his focus forward and watched a speck from within the water shine off the overhead lights. Johnny stood carefully, rounding the desk, and squinted his eyes.
The object beckoned him forward, curled its finger at him, and dragged him to the glass with his hands pressed up against it only to realize —
“My fucking lanyard.” He watched it float towards him like some ghostly sentient beast, sitting out of reach behind a pane of glass.
Just as he’d pressed his brow to his hands to stare into the water, the ID card came blaring at it into the glass with a thud and he was sent back flying. His thighs hit the desk, scraping against the ground, and he caught himself with his hands on the desktop.
The lanyard was wrapped within the clutches of a beast, dark speckled hands pressed into the glass where his had been moments before. A face stared out at him.
All those nightmares came back to him.
Reflective cat-like eyes bored into his, wide and double slitted when they blinked at him in a humanoid way. Where Johnny could see a burly chest, the rest of it vanished into the darkness behind it. What broke his sense of reality was the ghastly face, a glower that burned his fear, replacing it with frozen trepidation.
Johnny didn’t realize he was panting until the audio cut back over his hammering heart in his neck.
All logistics told Johnny that this was just a diver cleaning the tank out, his eyes were playing tricks on him because he got spooked. But there were gills along the side of the creatures neck, webbed skin between its fingers, an unnatural pattern of flesh that sheen blue and purple as its rear flexed behind it to keep it from sinking to the bottom of the tank.
And John fucking MacTavish’s ID in its claws.
He should scream.
Was he screaming?
Why didn’t he scream?
Why did it look at him like that?
Johnny felt himself slowly thawing out when the creature blinked at him for the nth time in the last four minutes. He gulped with a strain in his neck, a dull throb in the back of his thighs from hitting the desk. He straightened out carefully, not yet taking a leap of confidence in stepping closer to the tank.
The creature watched him, like a vulture watching an injured animal, waiting for it to croak before diving in. The lanyard buoyed in front of its chest.
Johnny gulped again to wet his dry throat. “That—“ his voice cracked as he shoved his words forward, “was not — nice.” He gave a startled noise to his own response. He pointed briefly at the lanyard. “That’s mine.”
The creature, unamused, tapped the face of the ID into the glass as if to say ‘eat shit, mine now’.
Why Johnny’s first instinct was to reprimand was beyond him. But it felt more natural than screaming his way out of the building in confused fear.
“You should be ashamed of yourself.” Johnny muttered again.
The creature’s eyes shut behind its double lids, but to Johnny —
“Did you just- you rolled your eyes at me? Didn’t you?”
It dropping his lanyard where he could see it, right at the edge, and turned around.
Johnny spotted the massive tail fin behind it, and he didn’t feel a sense of awe but his scolding was to be heard. He pressed up against the glass looking in. “Listen here you numpty, fish breath. If I had a word with you, I’d tell you my mind. I’m not finished with you.” He knocked his knuckles against the glass. “Get back here.”
Johnny looked to the small closet-like door that led to the top of the tank. Tempted to get a look at this thing up close, definitely not to get in the last word, he found himself unlocking the deadbolt and leaning over the ledge.
“Where are you, you hackit fish?” Johnny smacked his palm against the surface of the water, ripples being splashed against the wall and returning. “You’ve got plenty to say for someone who looks like my grandad’s baw.”
At the edge of the water by Johnny’s right, out dipped a head and a pair of eyes. Oblivious to the watchful splashes against his palm, if Johnny had been an injured fish, a predator would’ve snatched him up already.
He didn’t realize, by tapping the water, he was displaying a meal for a starved beast.
“That’s what I thought. You’ve got all to say when you’re behind a glass.” Johnny sat back on his haunches, hands on his hips. “Im never coming back here—“
Water splashed up against Johnny’s knees before he was reeling himself back against the chalked door, and a body emerged out of the water entirely. Johnny’s eyes laid on the torso and up of the beast who’d been swimming in the water only moments ago.
A scream strangled it’s way up his throat as he struggled to get his feet under him, and when he reached out to snag the door handle to bring himself to his feet — the creature snatched his ankles, forcing him on his back.
The unbelievable weight of it trapped him, cornered against the wet concrete underneath as droplets of freezing salt water sunk into Johnny’s clothes. He pressed his palms into the slick amphibious scales of it to try and pry space but it’s body pressed him further into the ground.
It’s face was in his, dripping, drooling, and Johnny gave a pathetic cry as he leaned his face away from the salty licked of water across his cheeks. Threatening to sting his eyes, he looked to the bucket encrusted with old blood and reached out to snatch it.
Looking to his hands, the bucket went toppling over as the creature snatch it and brought it closure. Food association with the bucket made it thrum, a cat-like trill escaping its chest as it peered in only to see nothing, but smelt the chum lingering on it. It ignored the bucket and turned its attention back on Johnny with disappointment.
“I didn’t mean it!” He cried out. “When I said you looked like my granddad’s baw, I was just kidding!”
The crushing weight on his stomach grew as its tail flapped against the concrete above Johnny’s feet with a PLAP. It’s slimy hands clasped the bottom of his jaw before turning his head left and right.
In deep surveillance, ignoring Johnny’s blabbering, it eyed the scaleless, gill-less, warm blooded creature. Having seen the creature who feeds it as well as cleans the tank as best as he can, it hadn’t been able to get close enough to the surface without being caught. This one, brave enough to taunt it, was interestingly shaped.
It leaned down to sniff at the creature’s flesh.
“I don’t even want the ID back! You can keep it-“ Johnny yelped as the creature ran a slimy tongue up the side of his neck to his temple. “I don’t taste good! I taste horrible! Please don’t eat me! I’m sorry!”
It turned Johnny’s head up, baring his throat before running sharp rows of teeth along his jaw. The salty taste of him was appetizing, it thought. But would he bleed easily?
Johnny cried, looking up to what looked like half a piece of a sardine. He put his hand up to snatch at the decaying thing, and pull it up by its tail. “Here!” He muttered.
Holding it between himself and the finned beast, it set its wide eyes on the sardine before bringing its human mimicked nose to it. The sound that escaped it was something of an excited chirp, and Johnny could feel the vibrations against his own belly.
Tilting its head rather gently to fit the fish in its two rows of teeth, it pushed down on Johnny’s chest, with Johnny grunting in pain, before hitching itself over the ledge and back into the water with a splash that threatened to soak all of Johnny.
Johnny, covered in water and fish slime, sat up baffled. He looked over the ledge to the dark water to see what appeared to be half human-half bioluminescent fish eating a sardine with its fingers. It was human in manner; blinking and eating in bites instead of whole, using its human arms to push up on the ledge and grab Johnny —
“This can’t be happening.”
His voice brought the fish’s attention back up, once it was spotted, and it sunk back deeper into the darkness of the water.
“What the—”
x
Next chapter coming soon
fic masterlist
#cod mwii#cod mw2#simon ghost riley#simon riley#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#john price mw2#captain john price#kate laswell#cod mwiii#izgnanik-a#mermay 2024#mermay
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Ignore if you don’t want to read about me being stupid once again
#pls dont read if you cant handle venting and whining#once again i am here to say that i am the loneliest person alive and i feel like i can’t grasp the basic consept of friendship and do it lol#like idk how to be friends#i feel like i will forever be sad and lonely#and i know everyone will say you can talk to me and i know that but i’ve just been by myself for so long that i don’t remember how to have#actual conversations with people i feel like i am disconnected from reality#i feel like i am an extremely unlikeable person and that’s why i was all alone in highschool and idk i am oversharing on the internet again#because it’s the only place i kind of feel safe doing it#pls take care of yourselves first before comfoting me or anything im sorry i sound very pathetic#how do i start living again#how does one live anyway#im just in my head all the time#this was supposed to be hot girl summer but it’s once again summertime sadness#im so stupid!!!#im so anxious and depressed that i dont know what to do with myself#im so sorry for oversharing i have a therapist dont worry im kind of taking care of myself#but the eternal loneliness just wont let me go#idk how to be a person anymore#i’m just sad#thinking of going to a church and pretend to be a believer so i could have a community again lol
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Jason Todd’s Reading List
(bc I got tricked deceived shown a comic list of his best appearances instead of the classics that this boy would be reading)
(And then I got carried away so now it’s organized by phase)
(Enjoy and feel free to add as I haven’t read his comics nor a ton of classics~)
Jason’s Reading List:
(this is what I imagine he read as a child; books that Sheila read to him, or if he spent time in the library during story time or checked out books; pre-Robin days)
The Secret Garden
The Three Musketeers
The Wizard of Oz
Alice in Wonderland
Sherlock Holmes
Jason Todd-Wayne’s Reading List:
(so this isn’t quite what I imagine him reading for fun as Robin, so much as what I imagine he read during his school years as Bruce Wayne’s adopted son; books that he may not have picked up on his own otherwise)
To Kill a Mockingbird
Of Mice and Men
The Great Gatsby
Old Man and The Sea
Great Expectations
The Scarlett Letter
The Picture of Dorian Gray
The Tempest
Anthony and Cleopatra
The Odyssey
Gulliver’s Travels
Doctor Faustus
Robin’s Reading List:
(these are books that he definitely read in his free time, absolutely found in the Wayne Library and you cannot convince me that he and Alfred didn’t/don’t have a little book club)
Pride and Prejudice
Emma
Sense and Sensibility
Persuasion
Northanger Abbey
Mansfield Park
Jane Eyre
Romeo and Juliet
Much Ado About Nothing
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
Henry V
Richard III
Red Hood’s Reading List:
(as if this man would give up his reading habit; however it is now with 250% more angst, death/revival/ghost references, and family/betrayal-related jabs)
Wuthering Heights
Frankenstein
Doctor Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
The Count of Monte Cristo
Hamlet
Macbeth
Othello
King Lear
Caesar
Moby Dick
The Iliad
Catch-22
1984
Crime and Punishment
Anyway there you go!! Feel free to add or reject any of books!! And special thanks to @animal-123-crazy who mentioned wanting to see this once (1) which gave me the courage to make this!!
#just yelling into the void#dc comics#dc#jason todd#reading list#jason todd’s reading list#Lowkey felt so betrayed when I realized I wasn’t getting a list of Jason’s favorite books#So yeah here I am six months later#Frantically looking up classic books#Trying to remember the few that I’ve read myself#If anyone has any good ones feel free to add!!#Also I am not saying that he only read those books during those phases#The books can definitely carry over#I’m just saying those are the focuses of that phase#Also it’s two am when I made this so enjoyyy~~#batfam#batman#alfred pennyworth#can’t believe I almost forgot him smh
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I think it’s so fascinating that most iterations of the Oresteia *barely* mention Clytemnestra’s relationship with Helen in the story. Yes, Agamemnon sacrificed their daughter to go to war. He sacrificed Iphigenia *to rescue Helen.* He spent a decade fighting for Clytemnestra sister. And yet only once is this mentioned and only as a quip.
#greek mythology#greek tragedy#classics#greek literature#greek poetry#tagamemnon#orestes#electra#clytemnestra#agamemnon#the oresteia#i just can’t believe it#It feels like that should be central to the story#Yet it’s just not?#it’s been a while#since I’ve read most of her stories#but I only remember there being one line in Aeschylus#i could be wrong#still#maybe some of the Clytemnestra retellings focus on it more
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*stares at popular ships*
Yes, but have you considered-
*gestures to rarepair crackships*
#why do I do this#I don’t know#every fandom though#any fandom I’ve read more than like three fics of on ao3#I can guarantee I’ve found at least one crackly rarepair and read everything#*finds rarepair*#*read everything*#i can’t believe there’s only six fics with this pairing that is so far out there#*shocked pikachu face*
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oh man this fic is so fucking good…
#also it’s breaking my heart already#jenna reads let’s take a drive#i can’t believe that I’ve only read two sobsicle fics this year#but now I’m so excited to finish this one and read the rest
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when the plot developments hit just ✨wrong✨
#can’t believe the 2k24 plot has progressed to the point where the weekend has ended… s i g h#i don’t want the weekend to eeeeeeeeeenddddddddd#wasted yet another weekend reading a facepalm-worthy manhwa. i want my weekend back </3#m an. the main plot point of that manhwa was just the entitled af sister poisoning everyone and evading consequences until the end#seriouslyyyyyyy first she poisoned the fl，then she tried to poison the fl’s husband (who was also her lover)#then she poisoned herself to bid farewell to her affair child. and th e n she poisoned her dad too bc he said no to her marrying the emperor#and *then* she poisoned the emperor himself with potato sprouts while trying to poison the fl *again*#and t h e n she was roped into a cheap plot to off the emperor by stabbing him with a poisoned needle by a (very meta tbh) guy#i mean. guy handed her the needle and was like ‘ok do what you’ve always been doing and poison the emperor for me.’ and she went ‘ok’#and they had the 2 most pointless brother characters i’ve ever seen.#first bro was some 15 y.o. affair child bro of the fl’s first husband who p much just existed to inherit the husband’s estate#and the second bro was the affair child bro of the emperor: a perfectly nice young man who was unfairly hated by said emperor#and. like. l o l. the 2 pointless bros were like the only likeable characters in the entire story and they barely appeared in it#the first husband had every single possible undesirable trait a man could have rolled up into a single guy#and the emperor had a wafer-thin backbone and a mad case of babyface. like. the 15 year old boy looked older than him h e y#and the fl was somehow both a skilled opportunist and a master of missing opportunities at the same time#and man. the fl had just a single (1) maid who looked like tomoya enstrs (but with a bob cut)#i don’t even remember the maid’s name; i just called her ‘bob tomoya’. sorry for the slander tomochin you’re a cool dude#i’ve never seen a main cast as unlikeable as this one lmao. i mean. at least the [redacted] anime had juri#the plot was a pointless mess in general too. it went from 100 to 10000 in no time flat for no reason at all#it kinda felt like they were just throwing plot twists for the sake of throwing plot twists#and ofc the fl successfully resolved every problem that came her way bc o f c she did. flashtag girlboss and all ig#but the best part of it all (imo) was the improperly placed jewellery assets. they aren’t even angled consistently across progressive panels#they aren’t even shaded either. just plopped on there. it really takes you out of the setting esp if it’s during a serious scene#i liked how i kept getting an ad about cheating in marriages while reading it though. it really added to the experience#i’d rate that series a 2/10: needs more assets and half brothers#time to find a new overy melodramatic telenovella-esque series to binge next weekend ig… last week’s was better thoughhhh#at least that one had the villainess experience her downfall as consequences of her own actions and it was quite satisfying ngl#hm. i think i need a new hobby. before the word ‘villainess’ becomes a permanent part of my vocabulary
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the tingles i feel in my body when i see taron egerton should be studied. not by scientists but by taron himself.
#he is one of the finest men i’ve ever seen#he’s just so#scrumptious#that’s the only word#him in kingsman?? my god#blackbird#???#insane#he’s such a good and versatile actor#i can’t believe rocketman never got nominated#anyways#i’m gonna go watch him reading thirst tweets now#taron egerton
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