#i feel fucking miserable about this but it's just like mean and unnecessary and cruel to like stifle people's fucking fun because of my dum
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HAVE YOU DONE THE AZUL KNOCKS UP HIS BULLY?
I THINK ABOUT IT OFTEN.... OTL
Imagine the twins kidnapping you and forcing you to fuck Azul because rather than forgiving and forgetting isn't it better to forgive and fuck? :) perhaps Azul doesn't want to fuck you because he's uncomfortable around you (you did bully him very fiercely when the two of you were little...), but the twins just feed his hatred for you with unnecessary comments, whispering in his ears about how it would be so nice to make you feel so small and unloved just like how you made him feel all those years ago. He claims he's going to be the bigger and better mer by allowing karma to catch up with you instead, but it's impossible to ignore the twin devils on his shoulders. Wouldn't it feel so nice to see you cry for a change? Wouldn't it be nice to humiliate you? Wouldn't it be the perfect bout of mean revenge to fill you with so many eggs until you're practically bursting? And Azul realizes that yes, yes he does want to make you feel misery of the coldest, cruelest kind.
He'll make you look chubby and then he'll get to poke fun. He'll make you hate yourself and your annoying voice and your stupid, shiny, pretty tail when he's stuffing you with tentacles, grinning at how wide you stretch to accommodate so many. You're already taking a third and you're still begging for more. You're so gross and pathetic to want him when you said you'd rather die alone in a sea trench before you admit he's attractive. Wasn't it you who said you'd never want someone as ugly and pitiful as him as your mate? Now look at you, fucked dumb and begging for an entire clutch.
The twins are just as mean as Azul when they laugh at the sorry state you're in. Floyd pokes your bloated belly with a clawed finger, wondering aloud if his clutch would fit. Jade thinks there's no harm in trying. You're only good for breeding, after all. They cut into you with razored words, taking great pleasure in returning your bullying tenfold. It doesn't matter if you've changed and became a better mer. The fact still stands that you made Azul feel miserable, and some grudges just can't be let go of so easily. When you're Azul, these grudges become anchors, and he hates that you occupy his mind so much. Most of all, Azul hates that he's falling for the idea of having a family with his bully. There's nothing precious about you. You were rude and cruel to him.
You made him feel worthless; it's only fair he returns the favor.
#twisted chit chat#yandere twst#tw: noncon#tw: breeding#tw: oviposition#i think about azul x bully darling a very normal amount ;;;;;
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Okay I've got one: Prompt 15 with Reds. 🤣🤣🤣
15. “I can’t hear a word you’re saying, I just keep thinking about how good that mouth feels.”
Somehow they can make even breathing a competition.
Send me a prompt and some characters! Reminder that the challenge is to make everything SFW, so we're getting creative here.
List of prompts
xxx
“So, we’ve called the paramedics and they’re on their way, but until they arrive it’s up to us. Remember the acronym, kids: C-A-B. What’s the first thing you do?”
Aiyeesha Simpson, a gunner in the making destined for academic greatness and social ruin, raised her eager hand. “Find a flat surface to lay him down!”
“Correct.” Blossom took Brick by the shoulders and shoved him down to the floor. A gaggle of Girl Scouts gathered around him as he wheezed for air.
“Ow,” he said.
Blossom patted his chest. “Please choke more quietly.”
I will end you, he thought so loudly he hoped she could hear him through the murder in his eyes. There was community service, and then there was cruel and unusual punishment. When his required hours were up and his record expunged, he was going to write a very negative Yelp review of the local Townsville Girls Scouts of America chapter and tank this year’s cookie sales. Supremely annoying, outrageously petty, and totally legal. That would teach Blossom for sure.
“Place your hands here between the nipples.”
Some of the Cadette Girl Scouts giggled. To be fair, Blossom of all people saying the word nipples in reference to her former mortal enemy as she trained a room full of twelve-year-old girls in CPR using him as the dummy was a perfect storm of absurd and kinky that he did not see coming. And now he was giggling himself, because he was a teenaged boy who thought the word nipples was funny regardless of the very clear contextual cues, and that pubescent shame was on him, one hundred percent.
Blossom, an ancient and inconveniently attractive evil resurrected in a lab for the sole purpose of making his life miserable, did not appreciate his amusement. “Push hard at a rate of 100 to 120 compressions per minute. Remember to put your bodyweight behind it, like this.”
Brick flexed, and Blossom pushed against his heart like she was trying to crush it in her hands. Once, twice, three times she administered compressions, and Brick’s eyes glowed red with impotent rage.
“Assist Blossom with her CPR lessons to her satisfaction, and we can forget this ever happened,” Mayor Bellum had promised Brick when he lost his temper and blew up an (empty) ambulance. Butch didn’t need his Super stomach pumped no matter how much he drank, so the ambulance and the four-figure bill that came with it were completely unnecessary. This defense did not convince the mayor, however.
The promise of the bill forgiven and his record cleared—and the deterrence of Aiyeesha Simpson filming the whole thing to upload to YouTube later—gave Brick the strength not to eye beam Blossom in front of the children.
“Okay, who wants to try chest compressions on the dummy?” Blossom offered to the girls.
You evil bitch, thought the aforementioned dummy.
After the third little girl properly placed her sticky, little girl hands between his nipples, Brick had had enough. “Hey, I’m still dying over here. Can we move on already? Jesus Christ.”
“Of course.” Blossom smiled, and she had never looked more terrifying.
Brick hoped Butch was suffering. He hoped he was hung over so bad he couldn’t piss standing up. He hoped Butch tried going online only to find that Brick had disconnected the Internet and cut him off from all his online games and porn because fuck Butch and his weak-ass stomach.
“Who knows what the next step is? Maybe someone other than Aiyeesha this time?”
None of the other girls seemed willing to stick their hands up. The carpet under Brick had scorched where his power leaked out in his building resentment for this entire situation. The smell of burned polyester just made him feel even more powerless to stop this.
“No? Okay, well, remember the acronym. A is for airway. You want to be careful about a possible neck injury, so gently lift the chin…”
Blossom’s hands were not sticky like the Girl Scouts’ hands, but they were cold where they touched his skin and forced his head back.
“Are the paramedics here yet?”
Brick got a tight fist in his short hair for that one, and he considered it a small victory. “No. Something about a shortage of ambulances, apparently.”
Biiiiiiiitch.
God, he was going to destroy her so bad.
“Once you’ve cleared the airway and confirmed there are no obstructions—”
“Then you kiss!”
Some girls picked up the giggling again. Blossom, ever the professional, cleared her throat. “Mouth to mouth is a life-saving procedure and not something I’d recommend doing to someone you plan to kiss.”
Wow, great advice.
Some girls still giggled and whispered to each other. Brick had a sinking feeling that this was only going to end with his embarrassment: everyone knew that the cold judgment of pre-pubescent girls was the absolute worst type of judgment a person could suffer.
“Are you gonna show us?”
“Well, I don’t think I need to show you all how to breathe—”
“It’s in the manual! You have to demonstrate every step.” Aiyeesha waved the CPR manual, and Brick realized his misjudgment. She was no vapid goody two-shoes in the making, but a future Honors Student with a secret, a Work Hard Party Harder, an Ivy League Early Decision candidate with all of senior spring semester to slack off because no one was ever going to touch her 4.3 GPA.
Aiyeesha beamed a winning smile at Brick, and it was as chilling as Blossom’s.
Jesus Christ, there are two of them.
True to form, Blossom had never been able to defy a good instructions manual. “I suppose if it says so in the manual…”
Locking lips with Blossom was not a big deal. He’d done it before when they were kids, and he could appreciate the irony of a gesture meant to save his life this time rather than end it. She didn’t even try to mess with him by using her ice breath, just went through the motions as described in the instructions. The girls were disappointed with the lack of hormonal fanfare of it all, which was probably for the best. Leave it to Blossom to make mouth to mouth the sexless, medical act it was literally intended to be. He was almost upset, because it felt like she’d won something here, which could only mean he’d lost.
Disappointed but more educated than they’d been when they’d arrived two hours ago, the Girl Scouts dispersed after the lesson, leaving Blossom and Brick to put away the equipment they’d used.
She held a dummy torso, and she was looking at him with that pinched, constipated look she got when she was about to say something especially snobby. Instead, she surprised him. “Brick, thanks for being mature about it. I can honestly say you surprised me.”
He stared at her.
“I’ll talk to Mayor Bellum. I’m sure you’ve done enough to meet your hours quota.”
He had not fulfilled even half of his required community service hours and they both knew it.
“So yeah, thanks. I can finish up here if you want to leave.”
Was she trying to get rid of him? Why?
“Brick? Why are you looking at me like that?”
When Blossom was winning, he was losing. That was simply the way of the world. So, if she was losing, it could only mean he was winning.
“Are you listening to me?”
Brick smiled in what he hoped was a cool, sexy way if he imagined looking at anyone but Blossom. “I can’t hear a word you’re saying. I just keep thinking about how good that mouth feels.”
Blossom stared. “I’m sorry?”
He would make her sorry.
“Yeah, you’re a great teacher. I could really feel your passion for demonstrating the lesson correctly. With your mouth.”
Her staring intensified. “Did you.”
“Oh, yeah.” He leaned his hip against the table like he’d seen in the movies. It worked for Daniel Craig in Casino Royale, and that guy had convinced Eva Green. Iconic. “I could really feel you trying to save me.”
Where was Aiyeesha with her phone to film this? There was so little he could do to rattle Blossom as they got older, and while the challenge delighted him, it was also exhausting being constantly a step behind her. Was this truly her demise? Had he won the Teenage Experience? Was this poetic justice for how she’d once killed him with a mere kiss, only to suffer the same fate in turn? He could have cackled. This was better than trolling the Girl Scouts of America reviews, although he might still do that because it was a genius idea and he had always indulged his own genius ideas when they came to him.
So infatuated was he with his own self-fellating digression that he was slow to react to Blossom sidling up to him. Her hand was still cold on his chin, and it sent a shiver down his spine. “Shall I save you again?”
Brick’s dignity drained with his blood, which was an unfortunate side-effect of being a teenaged boy that he would just have to suffer. But winning was about recognizing one’s weaknesses and working around them. He leaned into her personal space. “Please.”
He wasn’t sure who kissed who first, but it was happening and all he could think was I am better at this than you and I hate you and also Do that again. He tried holding her waist, and she fought back with her fingers in his hair. Not one to be deterred, Brick tried some tongue but pulled back when he tasted thirty degrees below zero. He immediately went back in because he could feel her superiority, her Got you, you horny idiot, but the joke was on her because he liked her cold, always had when it was hot as balls out and he’d make up any excuse to pick a fight with her just for the chance to cool off.
The Girl Scout troop leader walked in on them competitively making out in the classroom like it was an Olympic sport and put an end to things, leaving them at a frustrating draw for now. They said barely a word to each other when Brick glared at the troop leader so bad she flustered and didn’t even question them before running out of there with some excuse about getting the wrong room.
Later that evening, Brick caved and changed the Internet password back just so Butch would quit whining at him. He Googled kissing techniques and spent the next hour and a half watching YouTube videos and reading GQ articles about How to Please Her Like a Champion, because he was a champion and a winner and he was not going to lose to Blossom in this. Not a chance.
This had to be what they meant when they said kill with kindness.
“I’m going to end you,” he muttered to himself as he read about the top ten highest voted movie kissing scenes, which he would then stream and commit to memory in order to be fully armed and armored for the next time he encountered Blossom alone in a classroom. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe during their shared free period.
Truly, he had the most genius ideas.
xxx
If you enjoy my writing, check out more of my fics on AO3, link in my profile. I’m currently updating Trinity House and The Alchemy of Us. Thanks for reading!
#powerpuff girls#blossick#ppg reds#ppg brick#ppg blossom#powerpuff girls fanfic#september fic prompts#great pick Carrie!#this one was fun
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And You Should Live | Changmin/Q [Part One]
Athlete Changmin au! In which you and Changmin teach each other how to live again.
Genre: angst, tearjerker
Part One | Part Two
-♡-
The first time you meet Changmin, he's nothing but a broken mess.
The smell of antiseptic clings to your clothes, your hair, everything, as you peek at him through the hospital's sliding door. He is merely a big child hunched over amidst the covers on his bed, his hair messy and matted with grease, his face hidden in his hands as his quiet sobs reach your ears.
You already know what's happened, having gotten the gist of the situation from a frantic nurse who seems all too pleased to scurry away. An accident, She had stated, eyes flitting back an forth between his room and the main reception desk. The owner would pay for the damage in his own manner but that did nothing to save Changmin's legs. It had been decided as soon as he'd been wheeled into the operation room.
" And he's an athlete, you know," the nurse whispers with wide sympathetic eyes though her tone makes it sound like Changmin is a puppy instead of a grown man who'd lost a major part of his body, " was qualified for the Nationals, even. This big dream," she motioned her neck being cut off," and poof. Gone just like that."
It is hard to approach the said young man. Despite being used to the savagery and lack of respect from patients, there had never been one as cruel as Changmin. He does his best to make a mess of his tray, tipping his food contents all over his sheets just to watch you suffer as you change it; he'd press the assistance button every five minutes until you realized that he was pulling your leg and deemed it unnecessary to even give him the time of the day. He'd talk back, make the kind of comments that deserve a slap in the face - so much so that you have to curl your fist tight to avoid any accidents- while constantly harassing the other patients whenever he gets the chance.
There is no doubt; Ji Changmin might just be the devil himself.
" Why do you even work in this place?" he huffs once as watches you check his vitals, "It's so depressing. No wonder people go mad."
" If I didn't work here, then who'd be looking after you? "you shoot back coolly.
" It's not like I asked you to," he all but snarls, eyes narrowing dangerously.
" And it's not like I had a choice in choosing patients."
"You know, for a nurse, you're really rude."
" And for a patient you're a lot to handle."
He doesn't answer and for once, guilt rushes through your heart. He's hurt and handicapped and watching his entire life go up in flames, a soft thought echoes at the back of your head, how can he be okay?
You never see him cry. Not when there are people around, anyway. But you've heard him, more often times than not, muffling his sobs into his pillow. And you have to admit that, if you were in his place, you wouldn't mind entertaining the idea of death.
Standing with your ear pressed to the sliding door that separates you from the man with a broken heart, your wish to do something -- anything -- to appease his pain is clouded by the respect you have for his privacy.
As much as you wish to be there, you know that you're not the one he wants.
Nobody visits, you notice, as the days go by. A few of his classmates drop by after their shared seminars but they all only offer empty worda of sympathy that travel from one ear and out of the other. You can tell, by the way they stand with their arms crossed over their chests, that they have a silent satisfaction in watching Changmin's life fall into pieces, and pity clenches you by a tight fist.
You hate Changmin. You really do. But you'd be inhumane not to sympathize with the fact that he'll never be able to run again.
That day as he requests to go to the bathroom, there is no snippy reply, none of his stubborn "I can do it myself" as you sling his arm around your shoulder and discreetly turn your back for privacy. Instead, he looks dejected, worn out, as if life has sucked all the battle out of him.
It is only then that you realize he can't stay that way forever. He can't walk out of the hospital doors with that in mind.
"What is that?" He asks the next day as you lug a wheelchair into the room. He's eyeing it as though it's someone's vomit.
You straighten up with a smile, "let's go for a walk."
"No."
You had been expecting that. You stride to his side and gently tug onto his arm, "come on," you tut as he shoves you away none too gently, "are you going to stay holed up in here forever?"
"Leave me alone," he snarled and crossed his arms over his chest, "I'm not moving."
You're going to argue, but then you notice the glassiness in his eyes and decide to shut your mouth.
The next time you visit, he's sleeping. Or pretending to, anyway.
"You know, sulking isn't going to get you anywhere," you tell his back which stays adamantly turned.
"Look Changmin, you can stay in here and waste your life away all you want. But you're not going to do yourself any favours. Your life may be over as an athlete, but that doesn't mean you stop living."
When silence is his answer, you can only turn around and walk out of the room. But then his voice slices the air:
"Do you know what it's like?" His alto is choked with a sob, "To have your entire life taken away from you?"
You expect it. But it still feels like a punch in the gut.
" Do you know how it feels, to wake up one day and-" he swallows, hard, " and to know that everything you've been working so hard for is gone, just- just like that?" He heaves a shaky breath before rubbing a hand over his face, " That you'll never be able to walk? To run? To just- just do every single thing that you used to take for fucking granted?"
There's nothing that you can say that will make things better right now, in such a situation. Sympathy rushes through you, that similar ache resonating through your chest. Still, you take a tentative step towards his bed, noticing how his gaze is glued to the sheets, probably trying to hide their redness.
"You're right," you start off in a softer tone, " I'll never know how it feels like. So I'll never really understand."
The young man flinches as though you've just slapped him.
"But," you continue, " I've seen too many people die in here, miserable, sad, without anything to hold on to," at that, his head slowly swivels in your direction and you catch sight of his bottom lip trembling, " I'm not letting you end up like that, not if I can help it."
He bites his lip and while you can feel the sharp edge of a remark crawl up his throat, he decides to stay quiet instead, as if your words have suddenly got him tongue - tied.
" Please leave," he finally says quietly before turning his back on you. And you do just that, deciding it would be best to let the words sink in as you gently slide the door closed.
But not before catching the tear that rolls down his cheek.
-♡-
"Where's the chair?"
You blink at Changmin, "What?"
" The wheelchair," Changmin says impatiently with his eyes darting back and forth from the door to you as though he's expecting someone he knows to jump out and tease him senseless, "where is it?"
You catch his eyes, a deep dark brown glowing with a determination that wasn't there before. It's been a few days since yout small argument so it takes you by surprise to have this question thrown at you without warning.
Nevertheless, you help him into the wheelchair - he argues that he doesn't need your help but you know, from his shaky arms and from the sweat coating his skin, that struggling is an understatement - and slowly wheel him out into the corridor, out of the two double doors that leds to the small garden hidden by the hospital walls.
He doesn't say a word, doesn't even acknowledge people as they pass with greetings. Once you're outside though, you see his face tilt up to the sky and you can't help the little smile gracing your face.
You've never seen him tranquil before. This might be the first time there's nothing negative about Changmin's expression.
Your own stretches out to the sun, allowing your fingers to bathe through warmth.
"It feels good," you hear him mumble, almost reluctantly. Your smile widens into a grin before you turn to him, "want to go for a walk?"
Much to your surprise, he just nods without the presence and you slowly wheel him around the garden to admire the view of flowers, to observe the bees buzzing over which ones are the best, to feel the wind against your cheek and ruffle your clothes in a playful caress.
It is only when you wheel him back into his room that you hear his soft murmur, "thank you."
You say it's no problem but even he knows that you're grinning from ear to ear.
-♡-
"Where have you been?"
Your eyes shoot up in surprise and you pause in mid-scribble atop Changmin's medical form to throw him a startled look.
Changmin glowers back at you like you've just killed his pet fish, are crossed over his chest and his lips tugged down in what seems to be a semblance of a pout.
"I've been busy," you finally find your voice, before cocking your head at him, "why? Miss me?" You ask teasingly.
His glower just deepens but you're not scared, not anymore. It feels like after that first time he willingly reached out to you, that had broken a barrier. Gone was the volcanic heat on which you were treading, now turned into more stable rock that seemed to grow stronger day by day.
You'd started to understand a little more about Changmin's past; how his parents seemed to keep their visits minimal not because they didn't care but because he couldn't bear to see the disappointment on their faces; how he didn't have that many friends because they were all after the same trophy, one that would open the doors to the olympics.
"They're not my friends," he had explained once as you sat - him in his wheelchair and you on the bench beside him, "they visit me for the sole purpose of their satisfaction."
"Maybe that's just the way you see it," you had countered, heart twisting painfully at the thought that it was a hard truth to bear if he was right.
The young man had only scoffed in return, "that's nothing from where I come from," there had been a look on his face, an undecipherable dark look that made you want to recoil in fear.
He continued, "I knew a girl back in first year. She was talented at piano. Should've seen her. It's like the piano keys were made for her. Anyway, on her end of year exam, someone slipped in blades between the keys so that she cut her hand on them."
You gasped involuntarily, hand going up to cup your mouth.
"She never played since," Changmin's voice had softened considerably and you wondered whether there had been more than just a loose friendship, "stopped attending college altogether. Laat time I saw her she told me she was working at a café."
Then, he'd turned to you with that same dark, hopeless stare that you had become so familiar with, " so do you still think it's the way I see it?"
Still, there are things better left unsaid. Such as the empty cries that filled the room when he thinks no one is around to lend an ear. On some days, the despair is tangible on his face- in the way he holds himself like a bird without wings in the way his silence speaks louder than words ever can.
Once, you find him sprawled across the floor, a result from having tumbled out of bed in an attempt to heave himself into the wheelchair and his blankets in a tangled heap at his legs.
He doesn't say a word, only averts his eyes which are glassy with emotion as you silently make your way over to help him up by pulling at his shoulders, a comment dying at the tip of your tongue upon noticing that his face is one filled with dejection..
When you manage -- after a few minutes of struggling -- to put him back to bed, you smoothen out his sheets while saying, "it's okay, Changmin."
You don't have to look at him to know that tears are silently dribbling down his face and your heart twists painfully in your chest. That's probably what you hate the most about being a nurse; you can't help but sympathize with the ones that are hurt, like wounded birds that can't fly.
On some days though, you can barely understand now they're the same person; Changmin is witty, sarcastic, as if you're just two friends spending time with each other.
It was a Friday afternoon when you overhear his parents' voices echoing from the said hospital room. Your grip freezes on the door handle, heart fluttering in panic when you realize that you shouldn't be here, listening to things that don't concern you.
But his father's words hit you like ice.
" - Throwing your entire life away, your entire career. How could you be so reckless?"
Changmin replies something you can't catch, followed by his father's outcry, " Don't you put the blame on us! We did everything for you to-"
" DO YOU THINK I LIKE THIS?" Changmin bellows with such rage you feel it vibrate against the hospital walls, " I CAN'T WALK. I WON'T WALK EVER AGAIN. DO YOU THINK I'M ACTUALLY HAPPY THIS WAY?"
If feels as though someone has just gripped your heart with icy claws. You can't help but wince at the pain laced in his alto.
" Jesus, I'll never be able to run again. Nationals? They don't mean anything to me now," the young man continues with a barely restrained sob, "And you- " he takes a deep shaky inhale, " And you think I did this on purpose?"
"Changmin, dear, that's not what your father meant-"
" That's exactly what he meant! Don't you turn this on me like it's my fault!"
At this point, you quickly scramble to get away, heart beating inside your throat as you allow your feet to place as much distance between you and the broken mess you had just been victim to.
It's only until you close the door to the staff quarters that you manage to take a breath, tears still pricking the corners of your eyes as the conversation replays in your mind like a broken mixtape.
It's one thing to know that your life, your dream, will only ever be just a dream.
But how can one even cope when your own family think it's your fault?
-♡-
"Here," you toss a few leaflets atop Changmin's bed the moment you wheel his dinner in the next day.
You hear him ruffle through them, curiosity laced in his alto as he asks, "what's this?"
" Prosthetic legs," you don't look at him. Instead, you busy yourself with placing his plate of soup on his portable table, " Thought it might interest you, being an athlete and all -"
Clang!
Swivelling around to see his utensils scattered across the floor, your face snaps up to his, " You!-"
" Who do you take me for?" Anger resonates in his alto.
You knew this was going to happen. Pressing your lips together and bracing yourself against the verbal attack that was to come, you reply, " I just thought it would be a good idea for you-"
" Well it's not!" he says hotly, " It's my life! I can do whatever I want! Who the fuck are you to decide what's best for me?! You don't even know me-"
"I never said I knew you,” you cut him off gently without looking at him, for you know that once you do you’ll crumble to pieces, “I never said I wanted to decide what’s best for you. I thought it might interest you, is all.”
That’s when you allow your gaze to flutter up to his dark orbs that are stormy with emotion, and though you wish to cower back and run away from the confrontation that’s about to follow, you decide to stand your ground. After all, you’ve done nothing wrong. What is there to feel guilty about?
"You don't have to lash out at me like that," you continue while picking up his dirty cutlery before scurrying out to rinse them, an excuse that will hopefully be enough for him to recollect himself.
When you walk back in to find him frowning down at his dinner as though it wronged him, you almost back out at the last minute. If he's still not over his anger then you want no part in that.
He eats in silence for the most part while you sit there, twiddling your thumbs in hopes of distracting yourself from the suddenly awkward atmosphere. But then his alto pierces through the cold air of the room:
"Why," he draws out the question slowly like food he can't quite swallow," Why are you so nice to me?"
You take a minute to search his face before realizing that he is serious. So you shrug," Why can't I?"
" You weren't like this when we first met."
He's got a point.
"Well," you jut your chin out," you were a dick when we first met."
His eyebrows furrow at your statement, though doesn't protest against the fact. A few beats of silence ensue, only distracted by the clinking of his spoon against the porcelain bowl before he mutters out a soft:
" I'm not used to people being nice to me without ulterior motives."
His words, despite being masked as cool and aloof, hold a tinge of insecurity that tugs at your heartstrings.
Crossing your arms over your chest, you lean against the wall," it's not as if me telling you I have no ulterior motives will make you believe me anyway."
" I've been used my whole life. How do you expect me not to be wary?"
"I'm not saying you don't have to be wary. If you don't trust me, there's not much I can do. I'm not a saint either."
You can practically see the cogs turning in his brain as he mulls over your words. Thankfully though, he is done with his food, which means that you can pack it up and trod off without any move of this weird topic of conversation. Maybe it's the way he looks at you that keeps you on edge, makes your heart jump to your throat like a ping pong ball.
Either way, you're not too fond of that.
"Wait," he calls out before you can make yourself scarce.
You halt in mid- step.
" I - I'm sorry."
The words hover between the two of you; a bridge of an apology.
" I've...I've always been wary," he continues, tone softening, "of everyone. I grew up that way. That was what my entire life was about."
You press your lips so tightly shut that you feel them turn numb before telling him what you tell all patients, "it's fine."
"Y/N, please...look at me."
Part of you wishes to stay adamantly turned away with the crude satisfaction that he's helpless. But that train of thought is mean and with a reluctant sigh, you slowly swivel around to meet Changmin's maroon orbs swimming with guilt, his face the perfect picture of a kicked puppy.
"I really am...sorry," his words fall to a mutter just as his gaze drops, as if he's embarrassed of his initial childish behaviour, "I don't mean to be rude."
Warmth blossoms through your chest then. It's hard to stay mad at him when he's genuinely sorry and call you naive but that alone causes you to soften.
"It's fine," your lips tilt into a tentative smile, "I've had worse."
-♡-
Part 2 will be up on 05.12.20!
#changmin#the boyz changmin#the boyz q#changmin scenarios#changmin imagines#changmin fluff#changmin agnst#changmin drabbles#changmin au#changmin fanfic#q imagines#q scenarios#the boyz imagines#the boyz scenarios#the boyz drabble#the boyz timestamps#the boyz au#the boyz fanfic#theboyz scenarios#theboyz imagines#theboyz au#theboyz fanfic#tbzwritersnet#deobidrabbles#deobi drabbles#deobiwriters#tbzwriters#tbzwritersnetwork#fluff#angst
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Roommates (part 5)
Title: Roommates
Pairings: Bucky x f!reader
Warnings: stalking, language, smut smut smut
Wordcount: 1.8k
Catch up: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4
Masterlist
Part 5
After the fight, Bucky had his breakfast in silence. Steve tried to talk to him, only to fall on deaf ears. After a half an hour of Bucky not responding to his attempts to make a conversation, he gave up.
Bucky knew he had to act quickly or he would lose the chance to get together with Y/N. And just when things were going so well for them! But no, he had to fuck up monumentally. Although, he wasn’t losing hope, yet. He just had to eliminate competition.
Determined to succeed, he left the kitchen and made his way to Y/N’s room, only to find her already gone. She must have snuck out.
“Two can play this game, doll,” He muttered under his nose and followed her to the café.
He parked his car two streets away, in order not to get recognized. Putting a black baseball cap on his head, he blended with pedestrians. Seven minutes later, he found himself just across the street from the café, with the perfect view through the glass windows. That’s when he spotted Y/N. She was about to finish ordering. Good, he wasn’t too late.
As he was watching them, he tried to figure out, if and how should he intervene. He couldn’t just show up at their table. Hey, uhm, so I have been stalking you for a while and I really don’t appreciate how close you are to my almost girlfriend - there was no way in hell he could come up to them, without compromising himself. He knew he had to stay calm and keep his distance.
However, the sight of Y/N holding hands with Jason had him fuming. In a way, he envied him. Jason had something, or someone, he wanted. And from the looks of it, Bucky won’t get his hands on her in a near future, if he doesn’t do something about it. But now, the only thing he could possibly do, was to continue to watch them. Mostly, they were talking and laughing, whilst holding hands.
After what seemed like unnecessary number of laughs to Bucky, Y/N finally stood up, as well as Jason. Bucky clenched his jaw, when he saw them hug. Although, what really hurt him, was a subtle kiss, that Y/N planted on Jason’s cheek. After they pulled apart, Jason looked lovestruck and Y/N gave him a heart-warming smile, that Bucky adored. The fact that he wasn’t on the receiving end of it, stirred something in him. He couldn’t stand watching them anymore. He got to get away. Looking around him frantically, he felt a rush of what he thought was an anger and fled the scene.
He decided to finally make her his.
Y/N felt good after the talk with Jason. Their closure brought her much needed relief. She was ready to come home, take a bath and munch on some snacks. She totally deserved it. As soon as she got to the Stark Tower, she filled her promises to herself. Warmed up after the bath, dressed in comfortable clothes and armed with a controller, she camped on the couch and took out her frustration shooting hostile aliens in her favourite video game.
There was only one piece missing of her serenity. Bucky. She hadn’t seen him throughout the whole day and was getting progressively worried and tad bit sad. Making peace with the fact that they will only stay friends, she sighed and made way to her bed. She succeeded in distracting herself from the drama, but nonetheless, her thoughts started wandering Bucky’s way anyway. No matter what happened between them, she couldn’t stop thinking about him.
She changed into her pyjamas and got under covers. Laying on her back, she zoned out, whilst looking at the ceiling. Ugh, why can’t I get over him, she huffed. Turning on her side, she fell asleep.
Bucky was miserable. He almost lost Y/N today, for good. He could always kidnap her and keep her with him, but he didn’t want to take such an unnecessary measure. If there was a chance to get her willingly, he would try. That didn’t mean, he wasn’t tempted to do so. As much as he wanted to give her space and time, he wasn’t cool with fucking around and not doing any progress in their relationship. They were stagnating during her whole fling with Jason and just when he thought, they took a step in a right direction, he made them take two back. He basically rushed her to Jason’s arms, again.
“Fuck,” he let out a frustrated sigh. He had to do something, right now.
And so here he was, standing over Y/N’s sleeping form. He learned, that she was a deep sleeper. For many nights, he tried to be as stealthy and quiet as possible, but as the time went on, he found out, that even his mumblings aren’t enough to wake her. So, he talked away the nights spent next to her. He told her about his day, then proceeded onto his dreams and plans for the future – many of them involving her. Oh, how he wished to tell her about those, while she was awake. He couldn’t help, but took her sleeping form in, admiring how her nose scrunched, when she dreamed. Sometimes he stole a cheeky kiss. Other times he tried his luck, touching himself right in front of her. Maybe he wanted to be caught in the act. He dared her to wake up. Although, she never did. But tonight, he was going to stay here long enough for her to wake.
Morning sun invaded her room, landing its rays on her face, stirring her from her slumber. Feeling refreshed, she moved to stretch her rested body, only to be restricted by handcuffs.
“What the hell?” she mumbled to herself, as she tugged on her wrists once more.
“You’re awake. Good.” A deep voice startled her. Bucky.
“What is this? Uncuff me, right now.” She wanted to sound confident, but her demand came out as a pathetic whimper once her eyes met Bucky’s dominant gaze. He was standing in front of her bed only in his underwear. Y/N zoned out, admiring his godly body and her mouth watered at the visible bulge. He was big.
“I think we both know, what will happen.” A cocky grin plastered over his face.
“Yes, you’ll untie me and then I’ll kick your ass.” Y/N said, trying to resist the wetness pooling in her underwear.
“Feisty. I like that.” Bucky smirked as he climbed on her bed. “We’ll see how long you can keep that attitude on for.” And with that, he kissed her. Y/N was in pure shock. She had to remind herself to move her lips and not only gawk at her beautiful best friend, who was finally kissing her.
So, it wasn’t one-sided after all! Or this is another dream. A very cruel dream. But Bucky’s warm calloused hands exploring her body were, for sure, real. They pulled away to catch their breaths, staring each other right in the eyes.
“I’ve wanted to do this ever since I first saw you.” Bucky cooed. Y/N replied by pulling him for another heated kiss. Bucky then descended down to her swan-like neck, marking her for everyone to see, who she belonged to from now on. She moaned desperately, as Bucky started grinding his hips against hers, while simultaneously playing with her nipples.
“Bucky, please, I need you.” She looked at him, with her eyes hooded. Hearing her beg made something in him snap. He lost control, turning feral. Tearing right through her clothes, he moaned at the sight of her bare body.
“My pretty little girl.” His words made Y/N blush.
“Please…” She squirmed under him, impatient for his touch.
“Tell me, what do you want, doll?” He wanted to make their first time slow, to devour her, to make her go crazy by the time he would finally enter her. All that was forgotten after her reply.
“I need you inside me, Bucky,” she said, her voice timid, just above a whisper. Although it was all the consent Bucky needed for wrecking her tight aching hole.
Quickly, he slipped out of his boxers, making his cock sprung free. Y/N gasped at his size, worried look in her eyes as he reassured her, that he’ll go slow.
He reached between her legs, only to find her dripping and needy for his stuffing. He plunged his two metal fingers in, making her gasp at the sudden cold sensation. Coating them in her wetness, he scissored her, while watching her face expression intently.
“Stop teasing me and fuck me already!” She huffed, clearly frustrated with him, while he only laughed and withdrew his fingers. He smeared her juices on his throbbing cock, mixing them with precum, that was leaking from his angry red tip.
Not wasting any more time, he lined himself up with her entrance. They moaned in unison as he slowly split her in half. She cried out at the impossible stretch, but soon accommodated to his girthy length. His hand wandered to her clit as to ease her pain. Soon enough, he started rocking his hips back and forth.
She struggled against the restrains, wanting to touch Bucky. She would scratch his back, rake through his hair and pull on it, make him know, how good he was making her feel.
“Tell me, who this tight pussy belongs to.” Bucky’s growl went straight to Y/N’s core.
“You, o-only you,” she stuttered, as he hit that special spot with a pronounced thrust.
He sped up, whispering filthy things to her. She could only lie there and take it. Her brain was fogged and the only thing she could think of was her nearing orgasm.
“Fuck, I know you’re close. Can feel you squeezing my cock, you little slut.” Bucky exclaimed, making Y/N moan at his dirty talk. He thrusted even deeper, getting her closer and closer with each jerk of his hips.
“Cum all over my cock, babygirl. I know you want to.” He wasn’t wrong. Not long after, Y/N came with almost a pornographic moan, as he kept fucking her through her orgasm. Her pussy throbbed from overstimulation.
“I want you to cum in me, daddy.” She whispered. Bucky lost control after hearing the title he was given and fucked her harder into the mattress. Tears started streaming down her cheeks. The overstimulation. The pain. The pleasure. It was all too much.
Bucky’s thrusts became sloppy as he shot his seed deep into her, pulling another orgasm from her, as well. Her walls tightened, milking every drop of his potent elixir. He threw his head back, as he stilled inside of her, vein on his neck bulging out. A bead of sweat rolled down from his temple, onto his jaw and neck, making way towards his muscled torso and Y/N thought, he never looked hotter.
Still sheathed deep inside of her, his lips met hers in a breathless kiss. After he uncuffed her, they both laid next to each other, basking in the post-orgasmic bliss.
“Why? Not that I’m complaining,” asked Y/N. Bucky pulled her close.
“I needed to claim you for myself.” He flashed her a toothy grin.
“Well, mission successful,” replied Y/N as she cuddled into him.
THE END
@vicmc624 @ok-but-loki
#Bucky Barnes#bucky fanfic#bucky angst#dark bucky#dark bucky barnes#dark bucky x reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#bucky x you#Avengers#bucky x y/n#fanfiction#smut
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Lovely Tears (One Shot)
Word count: 1569
Pairing: Hyunjin (Stray Kids) x Junhyung (OnlyOneOf), bxb
Genre: Angst
Warnings: Mentioning of suicide, mentioning of bullying, Insults, homophobia
Summary: Hyunjin lays on the floor of his room alone and cries and thinks about what happened in the last time.
Theme Song: Rise Against - Make It Stop (September's Children)
[A/N: Happy Pride Month!
It's a pretty short one shot this time and I'm not really satisfied with it, but I hope you like it anyways~
I'll start with saying thank you to my precious friends who helped me with this. This would be include Lou, who helped me with finding a good ship, Auli who helped me when I had problems with translating the unique person who made again a beautiful cover for me and of course Jojo who helped me a lot with the translations. Then, I'm still not that good at writing in English and if there are still some mistakes, please tell me! And again, I really wanna become better at writing and it would be so great if you could tell me what you think about my one shot and of you have any criticism or something hehe~
Last but not least I'd like to recommend the theme song to you. It's a great song with an important meaning.]
…………………………………..…..……🤍………..……………….…………….……
Shakily he raised his hand and looked at it in the dim moonlight that made it through the window into the room. His breath was heavy, but still not as heavy as his heart. It was only a matter of time until he’d cry again, writhing on the floor, sobbing and calling quietly for help.
“Princes don’t cry.”, he repeated now for the almost hundredth time.
“P-princes don’t cry.” He clung to these words as if they were the salvation he had longed for.
“Princes d-do…” A single, small tear rolled down his cheek. “…don’t cry.”, he let out weakly. Slowly he lowered his hand again, put it on the floor and braced himself against it. His legs laid cramped next to him, slightly suggesting the embryo position. A second tear left his eye. His arms began to shake even more violent and he wouldn’t be able to hold his own weight for long.
“Naww, is this little pussy crying again?”, he scoffed at himself. “You’re such a damn sissy, Hyunjin, honestly. Such a small, unworthy, shitty crybaby.” He spat out each word individually to express his contempt for himself more. The contempt of others, who repeated these sentences mantra-like in front of him day by day. “Why does something like you even exist?” Hyunjin could feel how they pushed him against the wall. “You know what?”, he hissed at himself, putting his hands on his neck, just as they had done so many times before, that the feeling of not having pressure on his lungs was almost foreign to him.
“You’re not worth the fucking air you breathe.” He closed his grip a little more with each word he spoke. The black-haired boy gasped for air, his arms began to shake even more again, but this didn’t make his grip come lose. On the contrary. He clung to his neck with all his might. Hyunjin started to kick his legs severely, trying to fight himself.
“W-where are you?”, he sobbed weakly as he closed his eyes and finally released his grip. He raised his hand again, opened it and looked at his empty palm. “I mi-miss you.”, he breathed faintly. “So, so badly.” Tears filled his eyes again, took his view. “Is the stupid baby screaming after him again?” This time the mockery didn’t come from his mouth, but only from his memory.
“It’s time for you to understand that this bitch was smart enough to make the right choice.” Hyunjin wanted to say something, wanted to scream and fight for him, wanted to make sure they left him alone. But all he could get out of his mouth was a meaningless whine.
They had hit his sore spot. The only place that couldn’t be healed with a bit of disinfectant spray and bandage. And in his memory, the moment was even more unbearable. Having to listen again to how much he had always failed robbed him of his last bit of strength. His tears came over him like a wave and took away his last amount of hope. He tensed, felt his toes shaking and getting numb, then his legs and after that the rest of his body. Hyunjin’s head began to throb in pain. He closed his eyes and saw the horrible memories spinning in front of his eyes, getting louder, then quieter again and disappearing completely after that, leaving nothing but black. His own soft sobs were the only remaining sound in the room as well as in his thoughts.
“Why does it have to hurt so much?”, he gasped, not knowing how far away he still was from the end of this torture. “I-is it me?”, he stuttered, barely understandable. “Am I really so wrong?” He felt empty, exhausted and above all, lost. The 20-year-old had already seen the cruelest abysses, but he had never been this deep. He had always been certain that this was his own fault. That he was never good enough and never would be. But he had never considered that they were right. Those who punish him every day for what and who he was. Hyunjin felt weak. Weaker than usual. Unimportant. Unnecessary. Felt like he was nothing but a mistake.
“Hyunjin!” The older ones’ voice was a little deeper, but also gentler than Hyunjin’s. He remembered his voice too well and the light childish touch that it would’ve never lost. Now he was fully done and broken. A knife could have been slowly and painfully put in his chest and the pain wouldn’t been nearly as intense as the pain the voice he had just heard has caused.
“Junhyung?”, Hyunjin replied incredulously. Junhyung gently put his arm around the smaller one. “Did they hurt you again, my prince?”, whispered the blonde guy. Hyunjin ignored his question and opened his eyes to look once more at his boyfriend’s perfect face. “Junhyung? J-junji? D-darling?” In vain.
“Jinnie, don’t cry!” The kindly voice of Junhyung was clearly heard, but the boy himself was nowhere to be seen. “Darling? Where are you my angel?” Hyunjin repeatedly searched every single inch of the room with his eyes, but unsuccessfully.
he heard a soft sigh, but couldn’t make out where it came from. “My prince, handsome, stop it.”, the older boy begged sadly. “This world has so much to offer. There’s so much for you to see. So much love for you.”
The black-haired guy swallowed hardly. “W-what’s about to happen, angel?” He could feel Junhyung laying his arms around him from behind and kissing his earlobe gently. “I don’t wanna hurt you, Hyunjin.” His voice was still warm and lovingly, but his words hit Hyunjin devastatingly. “But I don’t wanna lie to you either, handsome. And as painful as it is, I unfortunately have to remind you that I am dead.” The words came so easily over his lips that Hyunjin, who has never been able to speak about it properly, froze. “I killed myself. And this happened already a year ago. Hyunjin, my prince…” Junhyung put his hands affectionately around the younger ones. “…I love you.” He tenderly placed his lips on his princes’ cheek. Hyunjin ran his hands slightly over the place where he felt the elder’s lips.
“I love you too.”, he panted wearily.
“I know. And it means so much more to me than you can imagine. But it stings my heart to see you crying out of pain.” It got silent for a short time. “And it’s time for you to continue living your life.” Junhyung fondly put his hands on Hyunjin’s cheek, as he had done to him so often when he was still alive and exhausted from the cruelty of his fellow human beings.
“You are not my angel.”, the black-haired spat out numbly. Junji hesitated. “No.”, he finally admitted. “No, I’m not Junhyung. Your angel, as you use to say. You’re right, I’m not him.” ‘Junyhung’ took away his hand from Hyunjin’s cheek. “I am the memory of him. Your subconscious that advises you to get over him.” All the warmth in ‘Junhyung’s’ voice was gone and nothing but the bitter truth remained.
“It’s too early!”, protested the younger boy, indignant and hurt by himself. “Is it really ‘too early’, Hyunjin? It’s been a year. Even longer. And you haven’t gotten a step further and let them destroy yourself every day.” Hyunjin glared at the floor, well knowing that his inner voice was only telling the truth.
“You never were like that before. You didn’t let yourself be taken down. You were fighting.” The tears in Hyunjin’s eyes were fading.
“I fought for him. For my Junhyung. The real one.”, he mumbled.
“Yes. And now you don’t do it anymore.”, his subconscious stated. The black-haired boy nodded abashedly.
“Because he’s dead. Because I failed miserably. Lost him. It’s too late.” Hyunjin emphasized the words as sharply as if he wanted to lose the fight against himself.
“Hyunjin. Both of us know I’m right. Junhyung is dead. But he loved you. Always. Until his last breath. If he could see you like that, so weak and vulnerable, he would be disappointed. In himself. He would hate himself for putting you in such a state. It’s time to move on with life. Do it for him.”
Hyunjin had nothing to reply to that. The voice, which started with choosing her sentences with such a care, no longer seemed to be cautious. It spoke the words with an uncomfortable hardness and speed.
“I love him.”, whispered Hyunjin. He was no longer able to do more than that. For years he thought that the cruel lies his bullies told about him, hissing in his ear day by day, just because he was different from them, just because he was gay, were harsh. But not even one of these phrases hit him as hard as the truth he had to admit to himself.
Shivering, he got up, went to his closet and took out an oversized sweater.
“Junji’s favourite sweater.”, he mumbled into the warm fabric. He hesitantly went to his bed to drop on it.
The boy pressed his face into the garment that his late boyfriend had worn daily during his lifetime. Sweat, blood and dirt stains had immortalized in the sweater. But above all, memories were woven into the fabric.
Once again tears sprung into Hyunjin’s eyes, accompanied by a croaked “I’m not ready yet.”
#lgbt#lgbtq#lgbtq+#lgbt+#pride#pride month#Stray kids#hwang hyunjin#onlyoneof#kim junhyung#junhyung#hyunjin#Stray kids hyunjin#onlyoneof junhyung#junji#onlyoneof junji#Stray kids hwang hyunjin#onlyoneof kim junhyung#gay#gay couple#one shot#Stray kids one shot#Hyunjin one shot#hwang hyunjin one shot#onlyoneof one shot#junhyung one shot#junji one shot#kim junhyung one shot#Stray Kids hyunjin one shot#Stray Kids hwang hyunjin one shot
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please hate rant about how much lorenzo sucks to me i also hate him and wish more people talked about it
MY TIME HAS COME
no, but really, like............... he’s so awful? like ever since he’s first introduced, he does nothing but abuse his power in order to antagonize magnus and it’s so unnecessary and ugly and like. magnus says he doesn’t like him when he’s first introduced (tho i think part of it is just the salt of losing his job talking, which, i mean, fair) but still he’s not even, like, unpleasant to him (really it’s more alec who’s bitching and making faces, and honestly icon) and then lorenzo is just the fucking ugliest from the start.
and EVERYTHING he does is literally horrible like it’s not just some general petty rivals thing, he legit tries to kill him. i cannot fucking stress enough that that’s literally what happened. only lorenzo could undo the magic transfusion, and if he didn’t, magnus would die, and lorenzo decided not to do it knowing full well of that. he left magnus to die. he was gonna let magnus die. on purpose. he was gonna kill magnus. i don’t think people treat that as the horrible thing that it is, honestly. i see some people talking about them like they’re fun rivals or something like that, or like there’s just some dumb beef, but no, it’s literally like. he tried to FUCKING KILL HIM, and i don’t give a shit if he ended up taking back the magic at the end, because he only did it because Alec not only begged, but specifically told him that Magnus was no threat to Lorenzo. the only reason he did it was because he knew that he would still be at the top at the end. I wouldn’t even be surprised if his thought process was “oh, it’s gonna be even more torture for him to keep living as a mundane knowing he has no other choice”. and then the way he takes magnus’ magic away is so forceful like... i’ve talked briefly about how violent asmodeus was when giving magnus his magic back before, and when lorenzo takes his transfusion back, it’s the same. literally if alec weren’t there to catch him he would have let magnus drop to the ground (might i remind you that he had almost died and was basically like coming out of surgery) and he didn’t even look at him. he did it super fast and violent and forceful on purpose just to make it extra hurtful and draining on his already fragile body. and i don’t mean fragile like “he was weakened” i mean like HE WAS STILL AT THE RISK OF DYING. and lorenzo deliberately hurt his body even more when it would be the easiest thing in the world not to. and then he finishes by being like “i’m keeping your home though”. like it’s so unnecessarily cruel.
and even if i ignore the fact that lorenzo is a literal murderer who tried to murder magnus for zero (0) reason, just. everything else. from the start. off the top of my head, i remember Lorenzo: accusing Magnus of sabotaging his party and basically wanting to arrest him without a single ounce of proof; abusing his power to keep Magnus from getting help with the whole owl thing; abusing his power again to keep him from getting medical help (a magic transfusion) from anyone; rubbing it in that Magnus had just lost his magic, which is basically equivalent of rubbing it in that someone lost a limb, like, he’s also a warlock, he knows that magnus is mourning and he still goes out of his way to humiliate him (if you don’t remember, i’m talking about when magnus goes for him to ask for a magic transfusion and he’s floating and all like “oh, i didn’t see you there” and refuses to come down. it’s like magnus had lost his legs and lorenzo was jogging and he just kept running so magnus couldn’t talk to him like. it’s so disgusting); naming a completely unfair price for the transfusion because he made magnus desperate enough to accept anything, which was clearly the plan all along, just so he could humiliate him further by making him homeless as well as miserable, and not even giving him a single day to move out, like, he really wanted magnus to just rot; yeah i think that’s it.
literally like none of these things is anything short of absolutely horrifying, incomprehensibly cruel, and borderline psychopathic. and he doesn’t even have a reason for hating magnus this much. it’s just like, oh, he’s asmodeus’ son, he’s more powerful than me! CRY ME A FUCKING RIVER, YOU PIECE OF SHIT. and let me just tell me i thought i was gonna die with laughter when he said that magnus was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, like doiuahdsiajnsada. dudebro was born a rich european at the height of Spain’s glory, got the HWoB position at a very young age for a warlock after making zero (0) efforts to actually help anyone, lives in a mansion. magnus has been abused at least twice (asmodeus and camille), has been homeless and almost died when he was just a kid, literally built himself from the ground up, invented portals and a shitton of other spells, making his reputation, has dedicated basically his entire life and more than what is healthy to the downworlder community as a whole, was literally tortured not a month ago. like shut the fuck up??? literally lorenzo is clearly so much more spoiled than magnus ever was (which explains his willingness to go this far to fuck him over, like......... imagine the amount of privilege you need to have to think taking away someone’s house is okay just because you’re jealous that they’re better at magic than you) and magnus’ reputation is way less the fact that he’s powerful and way more the fact that he’s 1- a genius, and 2- a great leader. but go off i fucking guess
but then we’re supposed to think he’s been “redemeed” because, what, Magnus didn’t go out of his way to unturn him into a lizard when asmodeus got him his house back? (honestly just the fact that he set up a nice environment for him is already so much more than he deserved, like..... id have thrown him in the sewer lmao magnus got him a whole cage with good lightning and temperature control and leaves and shit) because he agreed to go to edom literally ONLY because he was promised glory, clearly his #1 drive in life considering he’s done all of this to magnus purely because he’s mad magnus gets more recognition than him? for being like “yo alec don’t freak out and kill us all maybe” when alec was about to hurricane his ass into the depths of edom? like it’s so funny that magnus is all like “alec told me how you helped him in there...” bitch all he did was say “bitch calm down” like he didn’t even say anything besides “calm down” and “i know you can calm down” which is......... a surprisingly small amount of effort considering that if alec didn’t calm down he’d probably obliterate all their asses magically. like lorenzo probably wouldn’t die but still. also it’s his own magic, so you know. anyway, he did the literal bare minimum and didn’t even bother to be particularly supportive or anything, and suddenly he’s a hero? and he even had the fucking audacity to be like “i’m simply doing what any high warlock would do” when magnus saw him like doaiushdiuajdsamdksamda bitch first of all you weren’t gonna come. second of all it’s a little late to be all like “i care about my position and the responsibility i carry over other warlocks” AFTER you have already abused your position to deliberately antagonize someone more times than you have, like, gone to meetings. literally LORENZO FORBIDDING OTHER WARLOCKS FROM HELPING MAGNUS IS ABUSE OF POWER. it’s clearly personal, it’s fucked up, and it’s downright dictatorial behavior. it’s fucking abhorrent, and i’m gonna say it again, it’s completely crazy that the warlocks were juts like “k” with that. magnus had been HWoB for centuries and he’s never done anything of the sort and he dedicated himself fully to his people, willing even to sacrifice his relationship with alec for them, and has gone out of his way to help people individually his entire life, and then suddenly some other guy takes his position and immediately starts abusing it to antagonize the very person that had been on their side for centuries, and they’re all just fine with that??? like it’s already bullshit that magnus lost his position to begin with, because yeah the seelie queen was uh bad but honestly given the circumstances of even the most progressive side of the clave refusing to actually work with them instead of trying to control them (cuz that’s what alec did when he refused to tell him about the sword like. magnus explicitly said that the reason he broke up with him was because he felt like it was betwenen alec and his people after that and he was choosing his people, and honestly? he was right) and the world being at war with a very high possibility of a mass genocide and the seelie queen being their most powerful ally, he made the right call. but okay, i’ll believe that people were unhappy with that decision and he lost his position, whatever. but i cannot in any way believe that everyone was just watching lorenzo do that shit and didn’t care. anyway, in conclusion, sh writers: YOU DIDN’T REDEEM SHIT, lorenzo didn’t get a redemption arc, he shouldn’t have been at the malec wedding and i don’t give a shit if he flirted with underhill.
in short:
fuck lorenzo
yeah that sums up my feelings quite nicely
#ask#anonymous#sh#shadowhunters#magnus bane#lorenzo rey#anti lorenzo rey#honestly u can just go to the lorenzo tag on my blog and enjoy thousands of shitting-on-lorenzo posts#ugh
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Something that really gets me about how he handles others’ emotions is that he’s willing to disregard them, even when it comes to ensure said person’s safety and life.
You think back about how he seems to treat Kanna in public vs. her own conception of him, and you get this feeling that there are hard discrepancies in what we see versus what we’re told; he can be mean to her, cruel even, make her believe that he’s truly using her for his own gain and that in the end he’d totally ditch her in order to stay alive, but there’s something that doesn’t feel quite right about this whole thought overall.
We arrive at ch2-2, and we see him being an absolute piece of garbage to her, not only completely and purposefully leading the group to vote her (which in itself had an understandable reasoning), but also making her feel a little miserable, which was unnecessary and definitely not a montage pulled with her consent.
I’d argue that this tactic is part of his charade, or even an act so that she would stop pitying and defending him so fiercely, but I also feel like this is a general “all means leading to an end” belief he seems to be following in his desperation to find the most effective way to survive (and keep HER alive). He’s manipulative and deceiving, after all, so this is a very in-character thing for him to do: He’ll take all means necessary, no matter how much collateral damage it’ll cause.
And listen. I can assure you he cares for Kanna, he wants her alive and safe and happy, even if it appears like she’s just a pawn to be discarded next during the whole game. The phone incident is probably the biggest proof about this, aside of his insistence on sacrificing everyone else to keep her alive during the second main game (though I’m pretty sure he was aware she’d pick Sara over him anytime....).
Bonding with her was a dooming decision in the end, because there was a high risk she’d be the cause of his self-sacrifice (because you FUCKING BET he was NOT going to let her die), and yet he still went to far extends to ensure she’d get out of there safely, even if it meant sacrificing everyone else for it.
I feel though like his attitude in a normal situation would be different. I like to believe that he’d be a bit more mindful of the emotions from the people he cares about. Perhaps not to the point of expressing his own, but definitely being careful with his rough expressions—because frankly, I highly doubt he’d really mean to hurt anyone at all outside of the killing game.
#;ooc#;hcs: mine#;headcanon#welcome to naans rambles char analyses AGAIN#I had this thought and idk where I really went to with this but i needed to put it here#this is so complicated.... I understand why he does this but it's still so uhrghgh#anyways yeah sou can be softie but not when his life#or a person he appreciates' life#are on the line. he'll be a dick if need be.#i love this duality of his though!! he's such a grey character and i#am a sucker for these
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I’m feeling super meh right now so I wrote that down just to calm my anxiety.
Fic Title: Not Strong Enough
Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11,12, 13
Rating [Warnings]: M [mention of body injury] all chapters will have different warnings
Pairing: Luche x OC, Nyx x Luna
Summary: 3 years have passed since Noctis disappeared and Luche finds himself on the side of unfamiliar road with no recollection how he got there
Note: I was listening to Apocalyptica’s Not Strong Enough while writing that hence the title. It’s VERY suitable sing for the fic.
Tagging: @birdsandivory @lazarustrashpit @yourcoolfriendwithallthecandy @jojopitcher
Luche was looking at the bed above his wondering what to do. Titus…Glauca had completely lost his mind. Getting rid of him was obviously something that had to happen. He respected the captain and he had followed him in the destruction of Insomnia but there was nothing of Drautos left there. The man that was in charge now was cruel, unnecessary violent and even sadistic.
“Man, that bed sucks.” Tredd complained as he rolled for maybe tenth time on the bed across of Luche’s.
“Better than sleeping on the ground or outside.” Luche smiled since that was almost all the sleeping he has been doing recently.
“Yeah, but when I am given a bed I expect it to be a bed, not an illusion for one.” Tredd groaned as he turned again. “What are you plotting?”
“Just thinking.” Luche said vaguely. He had to be plotting. He had to be thinking how to get Ada out of here, but he has been going over that all fucking day and he couldn’t figure it out. Not without significant risk. And there was Glauca. Nyx had to use the ring to defeat the man, neither of them had that power, maybe Cor had the strength, but was the Marshal strong enough to defeat the captain? Thinking about it, maybe the best-case scenario was the two of them would kill each other, but what would happen if Glauca won…
“The captain….” Tredd started and then took a deep breath. “He is not the same. He has always been a dick, and that comes from me, but he has never been…like that.”
“No.” Luche shook his head although he was sure Tredd probably cannot see him. “Funny thing is, for a second there I thought about it. Joining him again you know. I’m not happy to be the Marshal’s pet, Titus knows us and understands us. If there was anything of Titus’ left that would have been a hard choice.”
“Ada would have killed you.” The redhead laughed. “I mean she did try.”
“She won’t.” Luche smiled at himself confidently. She would come back to him no matter what. Maybe with some convincing, but she would. It was just their thing, no matter what, he knew he could get her back.
“I’m sure the Marsal would beg to differ.” He felt Tredd turning toward him to see his reaction. “I mean…she is with him now…scared…alone, almost.”
“What’s with you and constantly trying to point out she is with Cor? Yes they are in the same location, nothing else.” Luche groaned, he hated where this conversation is going.
“I just like seeing your confidence shiver. Also, I am a dick and I would pay good money to see you and Marshal punching each other.” Tredd laughed again. “We can always try to get Ada out and leave the other two to rot you know.”
Luche was going to lie if that thought didn’t cross his mind. He didn’t care about Nyx much. He preferred to be a friend with him than an enemy, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to put his life on the line for Nyx’s. Now his feelings towards Cor were way more personal and he would gladly leave him to the wolves.
“Or you know…she is not the last woman in the world…” Tredd continued since he didn’t answer.
“Now you are really being a dick. I want her, I don’t want somebody else. If I didn’t feel the way I did, I wouldn’t have the desire to kill the Marshal every time I see him.” Tredd didn’t understand it. As far as he knew the redhead never had anyone like that. It wasn’t the need to have someone next to himself, Luche was perfectly capable to deal with any problem on his own. But the two of them have been trough so much together, he couldn’t imagine even being able to connect to someone on that level.
She was confused and naïve girl when she had joined the glaive, he had to admit that his attraction to her at that point had been mostly physical than anything else, maybe also some sort of mentorship care. But then things had changed. She was a lot of things he wasn’t and he loved that about her. She trusted people which was one of her biggest downfalls as well, but he admired her for that. Somehow despite everything they had seen and experienced she still found in herself to trust people. She never hated Insomnia or the king the way he did, on the opposite, she tried to understand all these people who looked down on them. He admired her for that, he never managed to find it in his heart to try to understand them or even forgive them. She had also seen him at his best and at his worse and stuck with him despite everything. She had seen him rage, something he had never shown to anyone else and seen him falling to pieces because he felt helpless. Nobody has seen him do that and everyone thought he was perfectly composed, capable to analyze and rationalize everything and in most cases they were right, but Ada knew the sides of him no one ese had seen. No, Tredd was wrong, he couldn’t replace that with just anyone. Nobody else could reach to him on that level. They were friends and then it grew into something more so probably that was part of the reason their connection was better and stronger despite everything else.
Maybe that is why he felt so jealous of Cor even if there was nothing between them anymore. Maybe she had experienced the same with Cor, shared the same things she had shared with him and that was killing him on the inside. Rationally he knew that was just life, he was dead after all, but feelings weren’t really a rational thing no matter how much he was trying to make them so. Did Cor however deserve to die because Luche was feeling petty and somehow jealous of somebody else potentially being able to reach to her?
“Are you beating your dick?” Tredd interrupted his thoughts. “Because that is awful long silence.”
“Just thinking.” Of course, Tredd will say something like that. “Wondering how much I want to save the Marshal’s ass.”
“Luche, a grown-up advice from me.” Tredd sounded serious. “He is not a bad man, stricter than the captain at times and terrible pain in the ass if you don’t follow orders, but he is okay. Also I think your chances to get laid often would be improved by not killing him. Accidently I mean, I’m sure you wouldn’t do that on purpose.”
Luche continued staring at the bad above of his. Fuck when did Tredd grow up? He had to figure out things faster.
“You remember that one time when Tredd appeared drunk?” Ada asked and laughed. They have been sitting like that ever since the lights went down and just talking. The building didn’t have electricity so everything was happening on gas and the guards refused to waste it on them.
“Fuck which time?” Nyx answered and laughed as well. Cor just looked confused. “Okay story time for the Marshal. So Tredd is like…our special little brother. He does stuff he gets punished or yelled at, he sits still for like a day or less and then does something stupid again.”
“I see nothing has changed then.” Cor said as he had experienced enough of that, however Ada had to admit that Tredd has grown up a lot between Insomnia and now.
“Well there was this one time…” Nyx couldn’t properly start because he laughed. “Okay there was this one time, we were out drinking the night, he doesn’t know when to stop, so he didn’t stop till like six in the morning. Most of us had the next day off, so it was cool, but he didn’t. So seven, he has to be on duty. He goes there, so fucking drunk he cannot say his name. The captain sees him stumbling up the stairs, and asks him if he was okay, fully aware Tredd is too drunk to even climb these stairs. Tredd doesn’t even turn toward him, he is so focused on moving one leg in front of the other that he doesn’t realizes it’s Drautos talking to him. So as he is struggling to move his limbs and not to fall he just says ‘suck my dick you miserable old idiot’. Titus lost it. He just tripped Tredd, Tredd falls down the stairs, swearing so much, like I have never in my life heard anyone swear that badly.”
Cor was laughing Ada as well even if she knew the story. It was pity that nothing was left of the captain or more like everything the captain had been was just illusion. He wasn’t a bad man, he was strict but just or at least pretended to be. She didn’t know who he was anymore.
“I was terrified of the man.” Ada admitted after they all stopped laughing. “My first day in the Kingsglaive, I arrive, Tredd and Axis are getting another lecture, but at that time I didn’t know they were just idiots. I was eighteen in my head the Kinsglaive was this perfectly working machine, one for all and all for one this kind of things. So I see these two wanting to just escape from the chewing and I’m thinking fuck that’s worse. I have never had anyone shout at me like that. I didn’t dare look the man in the eyes for the first two months or so and every time he talked to me I was terrified.”
“I remember he was calling you new girl until we got another new girl and every time he said it you would jump, drop stuff or just turn around in pure terror.” Nyx added and Ada had to agree with him. If it wasn’t for Crowe and Luche her first few months in the glaive would have been absolute terror.
Some silence followed. They all had good moments from the captain, but that was gone now. He had betrayed them all and these good moments were just his cover. Ada wondered often if he really cared about the glaive and them as people and her answer was always perhaps yes. He had saved their asses on many occasions, but he had thrown half of them under the bus as soon as he could.
“Still cannot believe he literary told Luche to do whatever he wants with you.” There was anger in Nyx’s voice. “That’s low even for Glauca.”
“Luche said there isn’t anything human left there. The man is gone it’s just…whatever Glauca is really.” Ada said as she could feel herself shiver. She had been thinking, what if that wasn’t Luche? What if it had been somebody else…
“Just another reason to list why he deserves to die.” Cor said coldly. “Not that I needed another one, but that’s too much.” He turned his head toward Ada in the dark. “These two idiots however could have skipped on the bruise.”
“I agreed to it. For sake of appearances.” Cor had had fit when he saw the bruise on her face, it wasn’t really bad, Tredd most likely still had pain in his hand since he hit the bone, but they had to act the way Glauca expected and that was small sacrifice compared to what might have happened to her.
“I’m surprised Luche didn’t break Tredd’s hand after that, knowing how protective and territorial he is.” Nyx snorted as he said that.
“You are picking more bruises than I am.” Cor ran his finger gently over her jaw. Unlike his bruises, hers couldn’t be healed. Their absence would be noticed. Since she could use magic again she had taken care of most of his leaving only the most obvious again for sake of appearances.
At that time somebody walked in the basement, the three of them went very quiet. Ada and Nyx pretended their hands were bound since she had undone their cuffs with the key Luche gave her. It was two guards, one carrying a light the other was just following.
“Seems like they aren’t sleeping, huh.” Asked the guard with the lights he pointed it toward the cell. “That would make things easier.” He unlocked the cell and once the door was open he pointed his gun right at Cor.
“Come here girl.” The other one walked in and pulled Ada hard by the arm. “It’s not fair just for that glaive to have fun with you.”
Ada knew that for sake of appearances she had to stay still but she also couldn’t allow them to do whatever they had planned to do. She followed him outside the cell, then turned around and kicked the gun from the hand of the other guard. Neither Cor, nor Nyx wasted time. Cor was on the man’s throat smashing his skull in the ground, Nyx reached for the gun while Ada grabbed the arm that was pulling her and burned him as hard as she could before he pulled away. The guard tried to attack her in anger, but she used magic again and set him on fire. She didn’t feel bad even for a second as she watched him burn to his death.
“Are you okay?” Cor rushed to her.
“Yeah I’m fine.” She answered. “But we have a problem.”
Neither of them had to ask what the problem was, they all knew. They were free, there were two guards outside, dead. They couldn’t go back to the cell and pretend nothing happened. Luche’s problem of how to get them just solved itself or just became bigger, Ada couldn’t decide.
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My Auto-Spaz-Ography
***WARNING - WAY TOO MUCH UNNECESSARY PROFANITY***
Getting past the only child bullshit...sue me I guess? Not my fault my parents could only handle one of me. Pretty annoying growing up hearing from morons that I must be a spoiled little shit...
Can’t really argue there. Aside from self-inflicted hunger (you know...that junior high self image bullshit..starve and lose 5 lbs in a weekend), I’ve never gone hungry. I’ve never been cold, without clothes, or a roof over my head. I was taught values. So yeah, I am fucking spoiled rotten. No apologies there.
People who continuously stay “stuck” royally piss me off. These weirdos are toxic. Avoid them at all costs. They will not change. You will thank me for this piece of advice sometime in your life. Everybody’s got a problem. So do I. Set goals for yourself. Get the fuck off your sad ass every couple weeks. Find your best friend (if you don’t have one of those...you should seriously consider working on finding one) get trashed, talk it out and let that shit go for a while. If you’re stuck in a rut for more than 2-3 months, get help. Seriously. It’s not embarrassing. It’s way more shitty in the long run when you turn out to be the aforementioned person who just stays fucking “stuck”. On another note, subject of the week has been middle aged divorced broads with kids and how sly and bitchy they are. If they go ape shit on me before getting their facts straight, imagine what they do to all these poor men? No fucking wonder a good, non hot dog throwing down hallway status, loyal, no bullshit broad like me can’t find a solid dude. The good dudes are out there getting berated by these broads they knocked up and can’t get out of it now because...you know...the kids and stuff. I’m glad I took a different path. Can’t imagine being in that desperate place looking for affection because I am 37-47 year old wrinkly, loosey goosey broad thinking I was tossed aside by a shitty man, when I am the nutbag...just looking for attention. It’s easy to get laid. No strings. No problems. Many people make it way too complicated. My friend’s brother is hilarious. He is kinda a douche and I love his stories about profiling chicks. My favorite was when he told this broad at the bar she looked beautiful and she said how he made her day! (First red flag) They go to exchange numbers and she once again tells him what a nice time she had meeting him ( nothing wrong with that) but then goes on daily wishing him a good day. That’s another desperate sign. Come to find out...middle aged. Divorced. Kids. Lonely in the panties. You know the drill. I used to host this radio show called Cryin’ Lovin’ Laughin’ or Leavin’ so I learned these things sort of young. You remember the patterns of people. You know warning signs of crazy. Here’s the most invaluable lesson, most people are batshit crazy. Keep the wall up a while. Test people. I have caught so many good people (so I thought) in lies through the years. Even little irrelevant lies. It doesn’t matter if it’s a friend, relative, colleague, or significant other. When you catch someone in a lie of even the smallest, you wonder what else they are capable of lying about. It changes everything. Be like me. Don’t lie. Sometimes it’s hard, but then you have nothing to hide and having the truth on your side keeps you out of some really shitty situations.Even if it is so embarrassing and you have to put a towel over your head to face the truth...do it. If you don’t believe a word of anything else I say...believe me when I tell you about people. The good and the bad. Just take the time to get to know a person. You don’t want a lazy middle aged squinty eyed salmoncake real estate selling Mom moving her and her kids asses into your house all of a sudden. You ain’t that desperate. Oh and dudes, I’m coming for you...don’t act desperate either. Just don’t. I tend to take your sides on this shit because dudes on the other sides of things are usually just happy to be free, so their demeanor is totally different. But that doesn’t mean I won’t flip sides on you if you guys start getting weird. Covid seems to have made everyone crazy.
Even in a good mood, there is nothing better than a super depressing 90’s country song...am I right? It’s that sad shit that always gets me in my damn near non-existent soul. Look, I randomly placed 6th out of 20 on a totally impromptu Roast Battle at the Laugh Factory in LA one night. One of the roastmasters told me I did so well for my first time because I have no soul. HA HA HA...that one fucking stuck with me. Back to the point - if you can’t sit down with a couple good homies now and then and blast “Alibis” on 10 while chugging Crown, you should really address some things in your monotonous life. Just sayin for someone who doesn’t do the bar scene much anymore and barely has feelings...I know every color of every neon sign. I’m always hashin out a heartache in the back of my mind. Makes me remember not to go there ever again. People suck. I feel like I have already mentioned this. I’m not a “hard” person. I’m a realist. I don’t want to miss fantastic opportunities with people, but I also know those people are few and far between so I really keep my guard up. The right people always tear it down in time.
People who get offended by profanity seriously piss me off more than a hive of wasps chasing me. Let me be clear...if I wasn’t dropping at least 72 f-bombs a day...I’m not sure where I would be in life. It’s turning all negative events in my life into positivity. I mean when you think about the F word. No matter how you slice or dice it...it does have a positive meaning in any context. “Go fuck yourself.” - Ok! “Fuck that!” - With what?! “Fuck You!” - Time and place please? Etc… Do you know what I am fucking saying?
Seriously asked my father the other day why he didn’t own Hilton chains or something. I’m sick of this fucking sweaty ass work too hard lifestyle with hardly any time to do fun shit. The idea of being some stuck up heiress with holes in my pockets sound fucking fantastic to me sometimes. Maybe just not the stuck up part. Could you imagine me that way? Snap my fingers and a drink comes! First class flights to St. Croix with my inner posse. Living the goddamn dream. Me and my doggies on a private island!
I’ve become a bit dramatic, I think. For an extremely hard headed Portagee, I can still call myself out when needed. It’s kinda weird not living alone anymore. I’ve got a badass homie around now (wish I would have met years ago) who actually gives a shit how my day was. So I kinda get called out now on my bullshit. (Side note: It’s important to keep company around you who doesn’t enable your negative traits. Your best friends will call you on your shit and help you grow.) Sometimes I’ll lay down and pout all day over some shit that is NOTHING. Just get stoned and forget the fuck about it. I’m sure this is something I’ve been doing for years. Never caught it til now. Checklist to work on. No one likes even a small percentage of a drama queen. Yuck.
Amazing the shit I think of while stoned. What’s the point of dating? Attach yourself to another person for life? Is that even natural? Attach yourself to yourself...not American Pie style you pervert. Attach yourself to doggies. I cannot stress enough how fulfilling life is raising pups. Watching them grow and learn. I’m not even talking about the ones you raise from babies. Even at an older age, your dog will still learn and grow with mental stimulation and affection. It’s so amazing to watch the new things they learn and pick up on. If you treat your dogs well, they will treat you double as well until death do you part. Sure, it’s shitty you get so attached and they don’t live very long, but it teaches you perseverance. True value of cherishing your pals and moving on in your life always keeping a piece of them with you. Sounds fucking gut wrenching sad. It is, but I promise you the time you spend with your pups outweighs the sadness in the end.( If you’re planning on spending zero time with your animal, leave your pet in constant confined spaces, starve or beat it...don’t fucking get one. Don’t even get close to one. They are better off in the wild than with your crazy ass. You ain’t right.)
You can’t be a lying dickface all the time and expect everyone to be nice to you. Saw a good one on Family Guy that touched my sweet heart a little. Stewie to Brian: “You’re not my friend. Friends come and go. You’re family. That’s for life.” Sounds so sweet. In fact I wanted to call my bestie and tell him that. Then I snapped out and realized “family” can be a super toxic F word. Sad thing is I have a pretty big “family” on each side, yet the older I get, I have realized my only family is my parents. In fact, I have created my own family full of non-blood relatives. Life is wonderful in the positive environment I have created for myself through the years. It’s amazing to form bonds with amazing people who have no ulterior motives like wills and money. Fucking money brings out the true colors in people. It’s sad. People spend their whole lives trippin balls over money. That must suck.
Those dorks at Central Catholic. Even at 15 made me laugh like hell. They’d interview the football “stars” getting full rides to Notre Dame and shit. My favorite was when asked about their favorite band... “Creed man. Such great “hard rock” with such powerful, positive messages.” Those dudes are probably miserable in their physical therapists jobs with their cheating whore wives who come home smelling like ratty vaginas. Someone had to fucking say it. Embarrassing confession: “My Sacrifice” is a FANFUCKINGTASTIC song!
I have a hard time with people. I try my best. I always learn and continue to grow. I got that goin for myself. People suck. People are cruel. (3rd time I’ve said this today?) People take no time to disappoint me for the most part. If you’re kind to me, I will be twice as kind to you. If you’re a fuckface to me, expect me to be an extra double fuck with a cherry on top. Add some nuts too and suck on that shit. I’m a badass person to have in your life and on your team. If you’re lucky enough to make it into my inner circle, I’ll probably be one of the best friend’s you’ve ever made. If you can’t look at yourself in the mirror and see the person that you would like to be friends with, you need to make some changes. It took me a long time to become my own best friend. If you can’t be solid with spending time with yourself, you can’t be solid with anyone and you’ll eventually become a dead weight. Take the time to get to know yourself and work on it...for me it’s constant. I know there is other people with my qualities in the world. If you find one, take the time to learn about them and ease your way into friendship slowly. Actions speak louder than words. Prove yourself to be a good human. Be patient. The best relationship of any type comes with time and work.
Let’s see…
Don’t be a fucking retail investor.
Don’t be a fucking commie.
Don’t be a fucking douchebag.
Don’t fucking settle.
Don't stop bettering yourself for you and those you care for.
Don’t stop fucking being YOU!
LO
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My dad was nice but he was very old, never was very good with feelings and I didn’t see him a lot after I was 6, so he was more like an uncle to me, even on the day he died. I don’t say this to be cruel, I’m thankful for the fun times we had together, but I never felt like I got to know him as an adult, as anything other than a father. My mother and my sister have always been my actual family, and I love them both very much, but they’ve also always been condescending when speaking to me, but I never really knew how to describe it as anything other than “teasing”. In more recent times, I’ve come to realize that it’s really not okay, that they can be manipulative and have intricate tactics to say things without feeling shame, since I rarely reciprocate any hate towards them and their comments are really unwarranted and mean.
I’ve tried to identify the things they do. They say things that appear helpful but usually support them with unnecessary negative personal attacks (because you’re lazy, because you’re stupid etc.), they use backhanded compliments, they laugh while saying mean things so they can decide if they’re joking afterwards in case I get upset, they have short spurts of unusual kindness every now and then to make up for their common behavior (moral licensing), they call me sensitive to justify themselves (when really it’s the opposite), test my intelligence with esoteric trivia to justify their stance, amongst other things.
Regarding what they say, it’s a lot of belittling my physical / mental traits, my hobbies or openly calling me lazy and stupid as if it was a given fact; they make comments about my hair, my nose, my weight and my clothes, so much so that I didn’t let myself look how I wanted to until I was about 19 and underwent several style makeovers in my teens. A very common one is also that I can’t complain about anything because everything I do and study is apparently really easy to them, despite that my technical knowledge of art is good for a 20 year old and I’m trying hard to get better. My mother and my sister like to bring up how my sister works in her free time and that her school is much harder than mine, as if we were on the verge of being homeless and without a future and that working longer is a good thing. My sister also sighs and gets bothered by the fact that I am anywhere near her, answers in silence, with muffled “mm”s or with an attitude, which has led me to avoiding her as much as possible. Her personality completely changes to a cheery, invested daddy’s girl as soon as anyone outside the close family comes by, so I think she’s just insecure and manipulative but doesn’t see anything to gain in interacting nicely with any of us at home since she’s got us wrapped around her finger anyway. My mother is always very nice to me and people in general, but she has made it a habit to belittle me quite often. I think she mostly sees it as harmless, so I don’t hold it against her too much, and she has toned it down after I’ve brought it up, even if I had to do it a couple of times first. I’ve noticed that in my friend groups, some people target me more often than others and I’ve been called a drama queen before, so I know very well that I am more sensitive than most and that it’s noticable to others. I’ve worked on making teasing me feel less enjoyable to get people to stop, either by smiling it off or ignoring them, but I guess it’s just tattooed on my forehead that I can’t stand it. My mother and sister’s comments especially, since they always feel so honest and cutting. Though it might be a stretch to assume so, I suspect they’re the reason I have performance anxiety/ a feeling of forced over-politeness around strangers and that I feel like women can push me around verbally and that I find it scary to critize them. My mother, even if I know she’s nice and tries very hard for us, has a very short temper. Especially in public, because I know that she’s very preoccupied about how she appears to others. In the past, when I’ve annoyed her in public (like asking to play on her phone while we were waiting and I didn’t have a phone yet), there’s been times where she’d scream right in my face to fuck off, which would make everyone around us stare and go quiet. I feel like my mother has a pretty sad look on parenting; her parents were emotionally absent and had issues and her mother married an abusive man that she lived with most of her life, and when she didn’t live with them she’d live with a childminder. She wants to be a good parent, but she’s a bit lost on how in some areas by inheriting the absence of her parents. Nevertheless, having all of my closest family be so on edge all the time has had a toll on me and my ability to open up/feel safe around others sometimes. I suspect that they’re also the reason I’m somewhat self-conscious about my looks and my behavior when I’m in public (especially the length of my hair). It’s clear that my lack of masculinity hasn’t gone unnoticed, I’ve been called a faggot a lot of times, and it’s a shame that my looks and my behavior is stereotypically gay or female, but I can’t do much about it unless I were to brainwash or censor myself further. I used to wear brighter clothes, have a high-pitched voice, act more flamboyant than I do now and and just generally be more down-to-earth, but I repressed that part of me when I realized it was seen as gay and feminine. I didn’t like that people felt entitled to comment about things that evoked insecurities in me, no matter who they were and how the comment was presented, so I conditioned myself to be manlier. Constantly having to put up with degrading comments in an environment you can’t exit, no matter how much kindness you try to meet these people with, it really starts warping your perception of personal relationships and slowly erodes your mental fortitude over time, and now here we are.
When I DO make similar remarks about my mother and sister, it’s always the biggest deal ever. I can admire their boundaries, but I also realize they’re the cause I have fewer. If I bring up that I find their behavior to be hurtful it’s always a battle, I never get met with any understanding. If I bring it up with my sister, she brings up things I did when we were kids as if she’s got The Great Book of Grudges under her bed and I’ve made no growth at all since I was 8. Always this fucking whataboutism, furthering my sentiment of being required to always be nice to her so as to not be a hypocrite. She takes absolutely no shit from me, no matter how small; and now she wants to become a cop too, go figure. If I bring up my sister’s behavior with my mom, she somewhat agrees with me but usually says that my sister is still growing and will be nicer soon, as if she can’t be held responsible for any of her actions and her terrible attitude even when she’s now 18. If I bring up my mom’s behavior with my mom, she starts victimizing herself and saying I’m ungrateful for the things she does for me (again, whataboutism). The way she sees it, taking care of her kids materially (household chores, help with emails, work etc.) exempts her from having to respect their boundaries or give them emotional care sometimes. I agree that I should help her more at home, which I have taken measures to do, which means I can listen and show sympathy, but a part of me also knows that no matter how hard I work for her, I’m still not going to have her fully listen to me, because I can’t remember a time that she has asked me how I feel/ if I’m okay in my entire life unless I’m bawling my eyes out in front of her, despite the fact that I’ve lived as a shut-in during my whole life. And that really hurts. It feels like she wants me to be someone else, someone tougher and better, so she doesn’t care about how I really feel, and so she doesn’t ask. It feels near impossible to ask someone to listen now, that I can’t be sad about anything. That you can just walk all over me and that it’s okay, because I didn’t walk the dog during my lunch break or something. I was just never taught that it’s okay to be sad and talk about it, and I’m finally realizing that my family hasn’t always been nice to me growing up. Just asking for help/comfort produces this massive guilt and panic in me and it would have been unbearable if I wasn’t so self-conscious about it and good at hiding it by now. I feel like I have to be controlled and smiley, or else people will think I need them to listen. When I’ve tried reaching out to friends, it’s usually a select few and after a problem is over, when it’s too hard to stay quiet. Some of them are really nice and caring and it means a lot to me to have my struggle be validated by people I look up to, but I’ve also had my problems fall on deaf ears sometimes, which is understandable, even if a bit disappointing.
In 2019, I made a huge life decision that I thought would finally prove my worth to my family. I moved to Belgium and attended a really hard school. First time I lived alone. First time I had to take care of myself. In a foreign country where I didn’t speak the language. Didn’t have any friends. Where I had 5 different subjects at once, several of which I sucked at and all really hard to pass. In a country with an unforgiving school culture that I never experienced before. A school with power-tripping asshole teachers. A country with the most bureaucratic administrative processes I had ever have to go through. A bitter taste of reality, and a really stupid decision born from desperation I didn’t acknowledge I felt then. I tried and I failed miserably. I felt like I was going insane and I was breaking down every day.
I chose to drop out after two semesters and return as a failure, but now I feel like I have some sense of direction and a more realistic understanding of what pace I need in life.
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life story part 23
Going up to north Idaho that winter was one of the few things I really enjoyed. Somehow, I didn't get bored up there. My mom got me this old fashioned clickety click type writer and I would just sit around and write all day. It snows hard and constantly up there in the winters. The sights were lovely. After school on Fridays, and during winter break, I would endure the three and a half hour drive up there to be in my grandpa Roy's mountain cottage. I would write and draw, and I found some occult books that I started to read. I was especially fascinated with Aleister Crowley I remember. I didn't obviously have access to his books or anything, just his life story and some statements he made. I think, even though I am not all that big on the guy now, that he might have been a gateway for me to really actually begin questioning reality. I mean, naturally, I have always been very much in my own mind. I had questioned a lot about life before, but this was sort of different. I think it made me interested more so in the way the world works that lead me to be interested in consciousness, the human mind, things like that.
I also started studying Arthurian Legends. It was difficult to understand some of the stories that are in the original book of Arthurian Legends. I got through it though. I made this anime in my mind that revolved around king Arthur, and I was drawing that a lot. In school, we had to read The Outsiders and That Was Then This Is Now. I remember being pretty heartbroken about the later. A comic book shop had opened up in Moscow, and we all swarmed up there to get anime stuff, which we were all very excited about. When we got up there, my friends went towards things they knew they liked. Katie was in love with InuYasha I think. For some reason, I ended up in the vintage anime section, and I ended up buying this really strange comic called Mya the Psychic Girl. My friends thought that the anime was bad, and I grew to be embarrassed that I had picked this out at random, but on looking back, I actually think the art was really good. The story was -eh, but I am actually pleased that went for something a little different.
Going up north, I was removed from my own identity. There was always a fire in the fireplace, and as I would sit there and draw, the dogs, all three, Chester, Tasha and Pepsi would all gather around me to snuggle. There was endless amounts of food to eat in the freezer. I also found this stash of my grandpa Roy's pickled garlic – something he must have enjoyed in life because he had an entire shelf of it. I ate a lot of this. Roxanne also for some reason on one of her spending sprees would buy these enormous boxes of Valentine's day chocolates, and eggnog. This caused me gain a lot of weight. At my dad's as well, I was secretly buying cookie dough and tubs of frosting and eating them straight. I would end up hiding them under my bed when my dad came home, and if I didn't finish them, they would rot. I had to dispose of the waste and this strange pattern of eating horribly and feeling shame set in. I would never/ could never do this now not only because it is terrible, but it is also gross. I had not yet reached the total awareness that eating had any connection to weight gain. Around me, there was a lot of stuff going on that wasn't good. There would be twenty to thirty people who were driving up to find Roxanne to spend her money, and she was gullibly giving it all away, all 90,000 of it. Drugs were everywhere. The whole thing was a mess, and a temporary convenience that was sure to fall apart at any moment.
Roxanne and my mom found out that I was wearing five bras – one on top of the other because they were all training bras and were not in themselves adequate in the job they were supposed to be doing. So, Roxanne was nice enough, despite being high as a kite, to drive me all the way to Post Falls, and at the time I was blown away by the first Super Walmart I had ever been in. She bought me a bunch of stuff I really needed, make up, hair stuff, a hoodie to keep warm, bras and underwear. My dad didn't really get me that stuff even though he had the money to. Roxanne, even as high on meth as she was really helped me during this time. We would also drive around from gas station to gas station going to the sticker machines and she would give me absurd amounts of money to try and get me as many stickers as I could. We would drive around late at night, buying out the machines – which caused me to have a big collection of venting machine stickers that I don't have anymore but wish that I did.
The grandest and most memorable thing of this time for me, was going to the theaters and watching Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers. We went with my grandma Marie, my sisters, my mom and a my younger siblings. I honestly at the time thought that it was absolutely the best movie I had ever seen. I was on the edge of my seat. I remember every single aspect of it seemed amazing to me and perfect in every way. Though, now on looking back, I mean, it's okay. I am no longer that into the movies, and to be honest, I am not super into Lord of the Rings. But I mean, back then, that movie coming out had this major impact on me. I remember leaving the theaters feeling better than I had ever felt. It even made Kyle seem kind of distant and lame.
The worst time I had though was one night, I was waiting with Allison, and my mom had left with David. They were supposed to be back in two hours. Five hours went by, and I started to panic. I tried calling her on her humongous cellphone but given that we were too far out in the woods, I could not really reach her. Something switched in my mind, and in my mind, I knew that my mom and David were dead. I began crying out in despair. Another five hours went by. I had been hyperventilating. I had this perfect understanding by that point that the two of them were dead. I began throwing up. I could barely breath. I can't remember most of it, only that I was certain they had died. My mind was very lucid, and I could have been convinced of nearly anything. When finally, my mom and little brother did show up around three or so in the morning, I was at a loss. They had just stayed at my uncle Rusty's a little longer than normal. I tried to explain to them how I had known they were dead, and it was just like 'eh, well we aren't.' This was not my first panic attack, but this was in a way one of the first times where I could definitely point out that I alone had a way of mentally overreacting to my own thoughts. I try to take this side of me into account when I am upset. I have to remember that if I let my mind spin out of control, I can distort my own reality and do some pretty extreme stuff.
As anyone would guess, this arrangement in my grandpa's place did not last. My oldest sister Maria was there at my grandpa's home initially, but due to the poor relationship she has with our mom, there was a big fight. They had both been aggravating one another in ways that were unnecessary to me, but it was my dear old mom was actually really the vicious one. My mom has always been abusive towards Maria. Since Maria had had that panic attack that year, she had this big scar on her head from where she slammed her head into that can of green beans. In this fight between them, my mom grabbed a can of green beans and told Maria to bash her brains out on this can, and to go ahead and kill herself and do everyone a favor. It was extremely cruel, just a twist of the knife that made me sick in it's tone and how she meant it, and I was sickened by her. She always seemed hungover and moody. And to see this exchange go down – I watched something behind Maria's eyes crumple, and my mom had this bloodlust in her eyes like she really would like to see Maria die. I cried out 'MOM, WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!?' but she ignored me. Maria packed up Jasmine and baby Ian and went to Florida shortly after with Earl, whom she hated.
Then, sometime after I stopped going up there as well, as much as I loved being snowed in. Roxanne and I were in the house. My dad was coming to pick me up to take me back down to Kendrick to spend some of my winter vacation with my Uncle Bob who had flown up to see everybody, potentially go to Red River Hot Springs, and go to some kind of Christmas party with Jodi's family. As I was waiting, Roxanne was getting drunk on hard liquor and taking pills. I didn't know this, and it seemed to come upon her suddenly. We were just talking and hanging out, and suddenly she started telling me I was pathetic. I got confused. She started saying that if I didn't invite Kyle to stay up here during the weekends, than I was worthless. I tried to explain that under the circumstance and how close I was to Kyle, that that was absolutely crazy and sure to get a strong rejection. She started then screaming at me saying I was a ugly little bitch. I got teary eyed, and then kind of realized fully that she was drunk and high. I had absolutely no idea why she even did this to herself. She seemed suddenly quite miserable. She ran into the bathroom and began puking. My ride came and I left and decided that I wasn't going to go up there anymore. The drugs were starting to make people mean. Roxanne remembers saying none of this to me.
Jodi's family's Christmas party was long and boring. It was just a bunch of adults I had never met. I wasn't cute enough for them to be of any interest. There was a gift exchange. I ended up getting gifts from this crazy great aunt of Jodi's who was in a nursing home somewhere whom I never once met. Everyone seemed to silently agree that her gifts were the worst. We all took turns opening the presents. This crazy aunt's gifts were not all that bad though – for me at least. She got me this porcelain doll with this really fucked up look on it's face, with eyes bulging out. It was actually pretty cool, and where on earth did she find this doll? The second thing I received was this jukebox alarm clock. I didn't like it at first, but after awhile, I began having this appreciation for the oldies more so because of it.
I ended up skipping going with my dad, Jodi, Jessie and Allison and David to Red River Hot Springs. I loved that place and it was of course enchanting and all that good stuff, but I wanted to be alone in the house more. I wanted to charge food at the store, and just sit around and read and be alone for a few days. I felt really awkward going anywhere with them. So I pretended that I had the stomach flu. They left without me and I watched them go. And then, inn a strange turn of events though, I ended up legitimately getting the stomach flu. So perhaps it was better I had not gone after all.
I got better and I got to be alone like I had wanted. I heard Kyle going sledding one night, and seeing that my room had this big prominent front window that looked down over the street, I wanted to spy on him, but I didn't want to be noticed. So I sort of ducked and watched him. This behavior seems so ridiculous to me now, and I cannot imagine doing this at all, or even wanting to. In the process of doing this, funniest thing happened. As I was looking down and spying on him as he and his friend were getting their sled ready, I ducked before they saw me, and I think his friend noticed and said something. They watched for awhile looking up at my window, and I tried nervously to not move at all.. But then, Pepsi came to the window, and she looked at them intently and began howling like a coyote. I tried to stop her, but she would not be dissuaded. She howled for ten minutes. I had no idea what had gotten into her.
I had asked for a lot of empty tape cassettes for Christmas. I was getting for some reason obsessed with the radio. I had noticed over the years that songs stopped being played on the popular radio stations as new hits kept coming in, and I never got to hear them again. I didn't have money to buy albums, if there was a way to easily access them on the internet I didn't know how to do that. I have always been an obsessive archivist. I like collecting objects, noting small details. I try to write everything down even if I never put it online. I want to own music on my computer that I don't even like. I have about 100,000 songs on my computer. I like connecting small occurrences with major events. I try to take note of small details – while often times missing big obvious ones. I try to spin this comprehensive web, and I try to organize everything. Which leads to me forgetting about everything around me.
So, I go these tapes to tape the radio, hours and hours alone. I decided that somehow I was going to collect every single song I heard. I went through tapes and tapes. Then my tape deck stopped working to record the radio, and I had to get an individual tape recorder and set it close to the radio, which created weird static faraway sounding versions of the originals. I was up most nights doing this. I would listen over the tapes, and the entire vibe of these songs gave me this cold chill. I also started feeling like there was more to music than what I had always listened to on the pop radio station. There had to be more than Shakira, Sum 41 and all that. I eventually tuned into the AM stations, which I had never done before. And I got sucked in to these distant recordings that were probably being broadcast over 100 miles away.
This feeling in and of itself caused/ still causes my heart to get this imploding feeling. I found these Mexican radio stations that broke my brain. It sounded like a mariachi band playing from hell. The sound of scratchy faraway sad obscure tunes from the 50's. Some of them were even sixties songs. It felt like some distant memory of a party in sixties where someone overdosed and was forgotten. There was a radio station that played very old country, and occasionally Art Bell would be on. It felt like something was being dragged out of me and I have never been the same. It wasn't pleasant, but it was still good. Sometimes, I would listen to the static with some inaudible preacher ranting. I could not hear it all, but the feelings I got from it was eerie, and made me feel more alive. After doing this for a few months, I stopped listening to pop music. It was no longer good enough for me. It sounded hollow and plastic. The feelings that were generally conveyed were very cheap. Not that there is anything wrong with that. But it's like if you were only aware of the top layers of the ocean where everything is more or less understandable and safe. But things go much deeper, and most people aren't really aware of that.
I had also asked for a few CD's for Christmas. My friends were all really into Avril Lavigne, so I bought that album. I secretly hated it, and it made me feel kind of sick, but for some reason since my friends liked it, I was unable to contemplate not liking it myself. I did eventually give up listening to it though. And then I got this Los Ketchup album, which is this ridiculous girl group from Mexico that did this song that was popular for awhile called The Ketchup Song. I thought that song was just great when I was younger. And I actually listened that silly album a lot.
Jodi had convinced my dad to get Dish. So I started watching a lot of music videos whenever no one was home. Music was becoming my world. MTV by this time had just been taken over by reality television, which never appealed to me. So I spent more time on MTV2 and VH1 (which both eventually were also taken over by reality TV). I stopped going to school whenever possible so I could watch I Love the 80's, and music videos. I really was getting into the 80's music videos. I felt like there was this alternative world in the 80's that never changed. Spandex were always in, Bizarre Love Triangle was always playing. It had this surreal darkness around it. And I was very lost. It had just gotten to this point where I couldn't go to school. One day, I was ready to go and everything. I was even going to be on time. But then this rush of anxiety hit me and I passed out. I couldn't really keep doing this at all. My dad and Jodi were fighting by this time, so I was able to stay home without him noticing. He was never home when the school called. And before there was caller ID, you just used your senses to know who was calling. I always knew it was my school, or if it was a friend. You could just hear something between the rings. I think a lot of people know what I mean by that, but it's hard to explain exactly.
I started dressing differently, and putting my make up on differently than my friends. I dressed in black as much as I could. Somewhere, I had seen a picture of Robert Smith, probably on VH1 eighties hour. I didn't know who The Cure was, but I loved his make up and I wanted to emulate that style. I would usually walk to the school when it got out to greet my friends. I was there maybe half the time, and only because my dad would be home that day. Sarah once asked me why it was that I dressed all in black. I responded that it was the way I felt inside. Which, on retrospect is so cliché. I meant it though and had no idea that I was doing something that had been said and done before, and at the time that seemed really profound to my friends. I also loved watching The Breakfast Club. Today, I have problems with this movie because I don't like the way that the weird girl has to change her look to be acceptable to Emilio Estevez's character. It is actually quite a slap in the face to my kind. But I loved that movie, and would watch it every time it was on television.
My dad just didn't know what to do with me. He decided that he would have Jodi take me to get a makeover at the mall. I think he was hoping to get me more into being into normal 'woman things'. Nobody understood why I taped hours of the radio or had drastically changed my attire, or reading books on horoscopes and the occult. I think a lot of people have thought it was some kind of a faze, but it wasn't really. I mean, I have changed my look over time for sure, limiting some things and expanding others, but overall, this change was honestly one of the first things I had done that set me apart from everyone else and felt more true to myself. The same with the music I was listening to and everything else. For years I had been trying desperately to fit into a certain image, with this dull unsaid promise that everything would be okay, if I could only be like everyone else. But embracing what I liked, I think actually made me a lot healthier. Sure, I was a terrible student. But I started crying less and less because Kyle didn't like me.
The make over was lame. The girl who did my make up was really subtly rude to me. She seemed uncomfortable with touching my face because of my zits, even though my face had been cleaned. She told me I had ugly eyebrows and eyelashes. My eyelashes are really small and light colored, despite having very course dark hair. I think it's because I am part Swedish. They put such light colors on me that it didn't really make me look that different. Everyone was expecting that I would look like a new person when I got home. I could see the disappointment on their faces. I actually did my make up better on my own. The black stuff looked better.
My dad also tried to get me glasses. I feel badly about this, since it was a waste of his money. By this time, I was absolutely blind as a bat, probably genetic since neither of my parents can see well, but maybe due in part to all the times I had pressed my eyes as hard as I could to watch the colors, lights and images that my brain produced. Or maybe all the times I had stared into the sun just a little too long. I went to the eye doctor, and against my wishes, I picked out some glasses. They were very expensive. I thought glasses on women were ugly at the time, perhaps my own internalized sexism against myself at work. So once I had gotten these glasses, I intentionally broke them one day so I would never have to wear them. I didn't want people thinking I was ugly. And looking back, I do feel bad.
There was a winter dance that January. I ended up going. It was the first dance I had ever been to. I was really nervous. Mostly, I stood off to the side. My friends had started hanging out with this girl named Ava. Ava had been popular, but she was a lot different than the other girls, so she had decided to jump the group and moved on over to my group which seemed like a lot more fun. She was really outgoing and forward. I hadn't really talked to her much yet but she had found out that I liked Kyle and she was bold and kind of did her own thing so she intended on asking if guys would dance with all of us, including, and maybe especially me. She did not understand my hesitation at all. We were entirely different in that way, and she didn't understand the lengths I took or how I overthought things. She was going to go straight over to Kyle and ask him on my behalf without my permission. She told me she was going to ask him whether I liked it or not. I was shocked. I begged her not to. So, exasperated, she instead asked Andrew (boy who spit gum on my seat the previous year) if he would dance with me. He said yes. I have no idea if I danced correctly. I do remember that I was actually really happy. It wasn't bad at all. I didn't like Andrew like that, but it was actually really nice to just dance with boys. It gave me this tingling feeling in my head – which didn't last because I didn't have any real feelings for them.
Eventually I did dance with Kyle. I could not believe he had said yes. I really admired Ava for having demonstrated to me that I could do things like that. I don't even remember the actual dance. I was so overwhelmed and happy, but it seemed to go well (I mean, this was a lame small town junior high dance, so if you take that into consideration). I remember the song we danced to was some slow Usher song. My friends all danced with other guys. I was so excited that after dancing with Kyle, I went straight into the girls' bathroom and slid down the wall. In order to prevent myself from smelling like sweat, I had soaked my arm pits with perfume. The perfume was burning my skin terribly. Despite this, I could not feel any of the painful rash. I was shaking. Suddenly, a bunch of popular girls went into
the bathroom and surrounded me. They started asking me if I had a crush on Kyle. They said they could just tell. I denied it meekly, re situating my appearance of being on the floor to make it seem more casual and less like someone who was so happy they could not walk. They kind of tried to let me know that he was Kayla's, and to leave him alone. I acted like I didn't care.
PART 22 - http://tinyurl.com/yat6cfnw
PART 21 - http://tinyurl.com/y783egno
PART 20 - http://tinyurl.com/y8jskymt
PART 19 - http://tinyurl.com/rfhbms8
PART 18 - http://tinyurl.com/ycrznrwk
PART 17 - http://tinyurl.com/y77unlng
PART 16 - http://tinyurl.com/yadpsv8c
PART 15 - http://tinyurl.com/yb3lt6k5
PART 14 - http://tinyurl.com/yb4cfedq
PART 13 - http://tinyurl.com/yalanq9s
PART 12 - http://tinyurl.com/yc79mw94
PART 11 - http://tinyurl.com/yc9qhj84
PART 10 - http://tinyurl.com/yb734w24
PART 9 - http://tinyurl.com/yc2t6vfw
PART 8 - http://tinyurl.com/ybl37utq
PART 7 - http://tinyurl.com/ybvo283g
PART 6 - http://tinyurl.com/kbc9dwu
PART 5 - http://tinyurl.com/msnz4am
PART 4 - http://tinyurl.com/k9x8esg
PART 3 - http://tinyurl.com/mwp9atx
PART 2 - http://tinyurl.com/lbt6xq2
PART 1 - http://tinyurl.com/l8xbvg8
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Emotions and other useless and unnecessary stuff
*because apparently Saturn in Cancer's challenge in life is to open up about their emotions, your girl Wingless shall try to do that aaand try not to cry in the mean time bc gotta hide my feelings from the outside world, you know what I'm like... *sigh* *
I am trying. I swear I am trying to stay positive.
*miserably fails at not crying after writing the first sentence*
I try to imagine life as a trip. There are worse parts of it but the destination is worth it.
But there is no actual final destination. Like where are we even going in life? I'm not going to have a philosophycal debate right now but life doesn't seem to have a point. Whatever.
But reality is harsh and you have to fight it. And I see all of you wonderful people fighting life. And you have it hard. It's never easy.
And I see my friends and family having a horrible time because the world is cruel to them, and I'm just sitting here being useless. Not like I don't have problems, but I had a hundred times worse before. And I still can't help because I can't do miracles. I don't have superpowers... Of course, there is magic, there is witchcraft but that can't save the world. I can't. And I want to help everyone so freaking badly and I try but it isn't worth anything
And I just want everyone to have a good life, to be able to enjoy their day
And I'm here whining about school because I'm weak af and can't deal with everyday life
Like what the hell is this even, I survived so much stuff, there has been people literally trying to fucking kill me and I am still here
And I can't break down at this point, that'd be ridiculous.
But I can't cure illnesses, I can't make the goverment to it's fucking job faster and better, I can't raise the dead and I can't make divorced parents fall in love again, I can't stop wars, I can't change the mind of those spreading hate
A child's biggest hurt is when they found out they aren't omnipotent, everything works differently than in fantasy worlds
...I care a lot more than I'd like to admit.
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Casual Intimacy - COMMENTARY
@spartanguard and @yayimallamaagain both asked for me to do commentary on this Captain Hood AU. It’s sexual and slashy, so if it’s not your cup of tea, please keep scrolling
Thanks @unfolded73 for bringing this back, it was fun!
It felt like they’d known one another forever. They moved together on the field with ease, passing without thinking, sensing where the other was – just knowing they would be there with the assist. They stayed up late in the common area, going over plays and devising new ones, finishing each other’s thoughts late into the evening until someone inevitably reminded them about morning drills and the need for sleep. When one had a bad day, the other knew and was often the first to drag him out for a pint and some mindless entertainment to cheer him up. They had similar pre-game rituals, sat next to each other on roadies, and their teammates were surprised when one was seen without the other. They laughed and took the piss out of each other like the oldest of mates, but Killian and Robin had only been playing together since their first year at uni – sorry, freshman year.
Let’s start off with the hows of this story. Tina and I were chatting while I was at work one night and we were mostly bemoaning the fact that Oncers tend to stick very... safe and vanilla with their ships and smut. (where is the Sea DeVil tentacle porn I ask you??) It turned into how it’s interesting to actually have a fandom where there’s so much f/f compared to the sea of m/m, but then we were like “... okay but outside of Captain Charming ARE there any serious m/m ships?” And so here we are.
(Killian still had some trouble wrapping his mind around the linguistic differences between American and British English. At least he’d known better than to ask to borrow someone’s rubber in the middle of class.)
Sorry, Emma Watson, it’s just too funny not to throw in.
Regardless, he’d certainly heard of Robin Locksley before decamping to America and Robin had heard of Killian Jones; the amateur competitive football world was small back home and everyone knew who was being scouted by the leagues and by the universities. Locksley was good, a striker with the makings of an excellent skipper one day. They’d never played against one another, but everyone kept tabs on the big names.
There was a big to-do about if they’d play on the same team or just run into each other in the locker rooms a lot, but I’m me and it got sticky on the sport schedules. Killian was on the swim team for a while at the beginning but Robin was always on the footy team and so Killian eventually made his way over there to make it easy.
(No one had ever thought to mention how ruddy fit Locksley was. Oh, he’d noticed at first – beautiful people drew his eye in that way – but he’d had a few other dalliances before realizing just how bloody fucked he was when it came to Robin Locksley. It was during a rain delay that Killian had realized he was absolutely fucked when it came to Robin. They’d gotten caught in a downpour during warm-up drills and everyone had gotten soaked through, but Killian had zeroed in on how Robin’s kit clung to his well-defined muscles and the water ran down his chiseled jaw and bloody fuck he was well and truly fucked.. He’d also decided then that an artist should capture Rob’s beauty in marble, like the Greeks. Though it wouldn’t capture the way the sun glinted off his hair and made it shine, or the way his cheeks dimpled when he laughed, or the cold fury in his eyes when another player committed an unnecessary slide tackle and injured one of their teammates.)
The fact that they’d both been scouted for this small university’s football team – rather, soccer, as the Americans stubbornly continued calling it – just happened to be a twist of fate.
A rather cruel one, if he was going to be melodramatic about it – which he was apparently rather adept at, according to Swan.
Swan was his roommate, a lacrosse player with a mean right hook, a passion for grilled cheese, an old Volkswagen Beetle that he was constantly trying to keep running for her, and a penchant for throwing her pre-law books at him when he was in one of his “melodramatic moods”. And yes, Emma Swan was a girl – woman, as she and her friend Snow were fond of reminding him.
The university’s rather liberal policy of gender neutral residence halls had ended up quite in his favor, despite the book-throwing. While even he could admit that Swan was a striking example of womanhood, his tastes ran more towards the men. And sharing a room with another man had always run hit-or-miss for him in the past. Swan hadn’t even batted an eye that first year, offhandedly mentioned an ex-girlfriend named Lily, and then asked if his practice schedule was as grueling as hers.
This is also the “everyone is bi/gay AU”. And let me tell you, I was so happy to go to a university housing conference and learn all about the (slow) changes being made to allow different genders rooming together! While it’s VERY SLOW GOING (this is higher education we’re talking about, it’s slow turtles all the way down), most public universities and quite a lot of private ones are shifting policies to accommodate preferences for LGBT students.
They’d been the best of friends ever since.
“If I have to hear you sigh over Robin’s quads one more time, I’m banishing you to the lounge for the night,” she grumbled, highlighting something in a textbook.
“They’re just so–”
“Perfect, so I’ve heard. Just ask him out already.”
“I had to wait fifteen minutes before I could shower,” Killian said, flopping back on the futon with one of his lit texts. “Bloody git took forever.”
“Scandalous,” she remarked, her voice dry. “Can’t even shower together. Oh wait, yes you can, because half the LAX team is gay and we have no problem.”
“Women don’t have knobs, bit different,” he retorted.
He could practically hear her rolling her eyes. “There is nothing sexy about a locker room, Jones. Quit being a – a, what is it you always call Will?”
“Bellend,” he deadpanned.
British insults are a delight and thank you Gavin Free for using them constantly so I’m on form.
“Right, that. Stop being a bellend and just say something. And don’t give me another speech about ruining the team ‘vibes’.” She actually used air quotes, the sarcasm dripping from her tongue. “If nothing else, you have to learn to keep personal shit off the playing field. Or use it as fuel during a game.”
Either Tina or Steph were like “oh thank god you made ‘vibes’ sarcastic I would not allow this otherwise” during the beta/preview process, I forget. But either way.
Killian sighed, resting his book on his face. She was right, he knew she was right, but when it came to actually admitting his own feelings, he was the biggest chickenshit – one of Swan’s delightful Americanisms that had rubbed off on him.
He just didn’t know how Rob would react.
Tina has never gotten over calling Robin Hood Rob. It’s hysterical to me.
It wasn’t as if his teammates didn’t know about his sexuality; as Swan had said, coming out to his mates hadn’t ruined any of the team’s closeness. Locksley had clapped his shoulder, thanked him for his trust and honesty, and assured him that the team would do their best to return that trust and honesty.
Well, that was all very well and good when stating a general interest in men and women, but in Killian’s experience, men who had no interest in other men tended to react… poorly.
To put it mildly.
“Rob’s not like that.” Swan’s quiet voice broke through his thoughts.
“What, are you a mind reader now, love?”
She snorted. “No, that’s you. I just recognize that silence.”
“Come here.”
She did, dragging her textbook with her and settling against his side on the futon. She could be a pain in his arse sometimes, but she also knew the value of physical contact; he was, admittedly, more free in his general affection towards friends, but he counted himself lucky to be one of the small handful of people that Swan regularly showed any sort of affection towards.
Hi, my name is Amanda and I’m a goddamn CS shipper until my last breath on this miserable Earth and I WILL MAKE THEM SNUGGLE. PLATONICALLY OR NOT. It was SO HARD to keep their hands off each other, seriously. Just... jump on in there, Emma. You, Killian, Robin. It’ll be a grand time.
“I’ll bring it up tomorrow,” Killian said quietly.
Swan made a noise as if she didn’t entirely believe him, and truth be told he didn’t entirely believe himself, but it was said and it would be enough for her to hold him to it. “I have a test tomorrow,” she told him, settling more comfortably into the crook of his arm.
He breathed a laugh and pulled her in closer, picking his own book back up to get some reading done before he was too inconsolable to think of studying.
Perhaps Swan was right about his inclination towards the melodramatic.
His body may have been at practice, but his head clearly wasn’t. He was passable at drills, but he was easily distracted during the scrimmage and it did not go unnoticed.
“Jones,” Robin called.
His skip’s voice cut through the locker room chatter. Killian paused only after securing a towel around his own hips, ready to half-drown himself in the showers after that abysmal practice. “Aye, mate?”
Robin made his way through their teammates, giving Killian a critical once-over before speaking. “You alright?” he asked, dropping his voice now.
Even I don’t know if Robin was checking him out or not. Also, same sex pairings make pronouns THE W O R S T.
Killian glanced up, then away, irritated at himself for a multitude of reasons now. “Aye. Long night. Sorry, skip, I’ll get right tomorrow.”
Robin was silent for a moment, then reached out and clapped Killian’s shoulder. Killian had to fight the urge to lean into it, to show how the familiar gesture affected him as he stood there half-naked in the bloody locker room. “Shower up, we’ll go for a pint and a chat,” Robin ordered and turned before it could be argued.
So much for locker rooms not being sexy.
Killian stared after his friend’s retreating back, taking a long moment to compose himself and adjust the towel a bit before grabbing his caddy and stalking off to the showers.
The hot water and soap didn’t make him feel anything other than clean of sweat and grass stains. Try as he might, letting the water beat against his skin did nothing to relieve the guilt of giving less than his best or the anxiety gnawing at his gut at the conversation to come.
After he dressed, he went out into the hall to find Robin waiting for him. Wordlessly, they fell into step together, practice bags slung over their shoulders and hands shoved into their pockets. He followed Robin’s lead as they left the training facility and went down the street to their favorite dive bar – fairly empty at this hour, which would make Robin’s scolding easier to hear.
I don’t know why but I always envision this as a pub. I also have no idea where they’re going to university, so maybe there is an English-style pub near their facilities.
They ordered, and after the waitress brought their pints, they each took a long drink as Robin regarded Killian thoughtfully over the rim. “So,” he said, setting his glass down. “Something’s eating at you. And don’t give me any nonsense about everything being fine or I’ll go talk to Emma and she’ll tell me what’s really going on with you.”
Killian winced, setting his own glass down. Swan absolutely would, if for no other reason than she was an abysmal liar. “That’s a low blow, Locksley.”
“Aye, but you’re a right stubborn bastard when you put your mind to it, so my hand is forced. You’ve never played so badly, not in all the years I’ve known you. Even after the mess with that lass Milah and then your disastrous rebound with Jefferson.”
Those had been easier to handle – after Milah left, there had been nothing for him but throwing himself into the game, leaving everything on the pitch until he was spent, an empty shell left for Swan to care for, making sure he ate and had a decent night’s rest. Jefferson had been an angry affair, both of them lost and angry and winding up hurting the other more. But it had only led to more fuel, something like a dam breaking in Killian’s soul that flooded his body with pain and rage and powering his game until he was left with only quiet and acceptance inside.
Please join me in a vision about Killian and Jefferson, basically hatefucking each other until they can’t breathe, but there’s a bunch of h/c involved too. Like the most ridiculous S/M relationship ever where they just use each other until they don’t need one another anymore.
Also Milah didn’t die in this one, I don’t know the story but she’s still alive somewhere.
But this, this situation held more at stake.
Swan’s voice was in his head, telling him she’d hold him to his statement yesterday, but he reasoned that if such a confession went poorly he would have nowhere to turn. He’d left his feelings out on the pitch after Milah, after Jefferson, but the pitch was where Robin was. Robin was his friend, his teammate, his skipper.
Robin kept things grounded with the rest of Killian’s world had fallen apart.
No matter the universe, Killian always seems to have someone he revolves around. He needs a center!
Killian took a long pull from his glass, stalling for time. Thankfully, their food arrived, and both young men were too well-mannered to talk and eat at the same time – Robin’s family descended from some stuffy upper class lot, Killian’s mum drilling the mantra of “manners maketh man” into his head as a lad. During a lull, he finally said, “All twisted around about someone, s’all.”
His burger sat heavy like lead in his stomach, watching Robin’s face. Robin’s eyebrow lifted. “Enough to ruin your football? Don’t tell me it’s Emma.”
Killian tried not to laugh. Swan was gorgeous, but it wasn’t meant to be. “Roommates are off-limits, remember? Or have you and Regina started sharing a bed as well as a room?”
From Tina: “Or we could just go full on polyamorous with CS/OQ all fucking each other *___*”
Robin’s cheeks pinked and he stabbed a chip into the ketchup. “I should bloody well think not… Very well then, who are they?”
I do think there was a little something between them though. Killian is very comfortably bi in this universe, but Robin... he’s not really sure what he is, and he’s okay with that. I think he’s more pansexual than anything else but he’d probably be most comfortable with the catchall “queer”.
His mouth felt dry, no matter how much of his beer he drank – indeed, he drained the glass and still felt parched. The waitress came and got him a refill and Killian stopped himself from guzzling it down lest he hurry along his buzz. He hardly thought a drunken confession of attraction would make things any better. “It’s… complicated,” he finally said. “Telling them, it would change a great many things that I’m loathe to give up.”
He met Robin’s gaze then, willing him to understand the words he wasn’t saying, but he knew it often took a straight answer for things to sink in. Robin’s blank look confirmed that. Killian swallowed hard, then said, “I value our friendship too much, Rob, to allow my personal feelings to get in the way if it makes you uncomfortable. I apologize if this admission alters the way you think of me –”
Robin’s eyes widened and Killian shut up fast; Robin was a good man, but he’d known plenty of men who turned on a dime at the thought of a man desiring them. “Bloody hell, me?” Killian’s mouth opened wordlessly, an icicle of fear slicing down his back as he tried to figure out whether he should run for it now or go down swinging. Robin blinked, shaking his head. “Well. I have to admit, Jones, this is a surprise, but I can’t say I’m not flattered.”
Well, he does look at himself in the mirror every day.
It was Killian’s turn to blink, his emotions a complete jumble. “You’re not…”
Robin met his gaze. “Killian, don’t be a tosser, I’m not upset.”
Sometimes it’s just nice to have a fic where everything goes according to plan. No gay angst, no “never fall in love with a straight boy”, nothing. Just two boys who like each other and would look really good in bed together. I was very, ANNOYINGLY conscious about how “but is the other person gay” fanfic works and actively wanted to subvert it.
“Well, you don’t go shouting about your conquests in the locker room, so I couldn’t be sure if it would be received well or not.”
Robin grinned. “No, we’ll leave that to Will. As it happens, I suppose it’s never really mattered to me.”
Will Scarlett loudly and hungoverly discusses his Friday nights with anyone who will listen. Usually his teammates, not by choice.
“Oh.”
“Indeed.”
There was a long pause and Killian fought the urge to gulp half his beer to fill the silence. His fingers must have twitched towards his pint, though, because Robin started to grin. “So, is this a date, then, or should we do one proper another time?”
Sometimes to break an awkward silence you created, you give a character a joke.
Killian stared, flabbergasted. “One - what? And two, are you seriously asking me out right now?”
“Well, you should probably be the one to do the asking, but you seem – for the first time in your life, I might add – at a loss for words.”
“Rob, don’t indulge me if you’re not serious about this.”
“Who says I’m not?”
“You’re being awfully flippant.”
“I’m not getting on one knee, if that’s what you want.”
No, Rob, he wants you on both knees. Preferably naked.
Killian felt his ears burning and he wasn’t sure what the cause of it was: embarrassment or anger, possibly a mix of the two. “Look, just forget it,” he said, balling up his napkin and tossing it on the table. He dug in his back pocket for his wallet, trying to look anywhere but at Robin; but when Killian opened the tri-fold to look for cash, he stilled when Robin’s hand covered his.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and Killian looked up to see a soft, earnest look on his face that matched his voice. “I thought – well, occasionally humor helps to ease tension, and I see now that it was a mistake.”
“Too bloody right,” Killian muttered.
Robin’s hand was warm, an odd but nice mix of calluses and softness against his own skin. Killian called up every ounce of courage he had, then turned his hand over to clasp Robin’s. His friend looked surprised at the gesture, perhaps a little unsure of how to handle it, but seemed neither disgusted nor displeased. “We’ve got a match Saturday afternoon, but how about after dinner we ditch the team and take in a movie?”
Haaaaaaand poooooornnnnn.
There were normally team dinners after matches, so it made sense – no need to alert anyone of anything new developing. And Killian and Robin normally went out after matches, though normally with Emma or Regina and their friends (they’d agreed that both of their roommates were useful in separate situations: Emma might not be a wild party girl but her LAX teammates knew how to celebrate a victory, while Regina and her group knew the perfect way to drown out any anger at a loss)
“Alright,” Killian said. Then, feeling bolder and remembering Robin’s remark about humor, added, “Though just so you know, I don’t put out on the first date.”
Robin blinked and Killian thought his joke may have missed the mark, then Rob started to laugh. “You’re probably a bloody awful kisser anyway.”
He thought about proving him wrong right then and there – he’d received approximately zero complaints about his technique, thank you very much – but in all honesty Killian was too busy trying to hide the fact that he was now very much staring at Robin’s mouth, wondering how he kissed and what the combined sensations of their beards might feel like.
I’m very glad to never have to find this out. Folks with beards who kiss others with beards -- chime in.
Swan, bless her, did her best not to gloat when he told her what had happened later that night.
Now please imagine Killian screaming into his pillow and then panicking about their date.
Though given the fact that he couldn’t stop grinning, he probably wouldn’t have minded a bit of gloating anyway.
Their style of play didn’t falter and Killian’s ability returned now that he was free of the stress of any difficult conversations. He’d been out with Robin before and though he fundamentally knew this was different, part of him wasn’t able to truly understand that this was a date and not just two friends out on the town. Perhaps that’s why he could keep his head on straight over the next few days, even managing to score a goal and assist on two others to help win the match on Saturday.
It wasn’t until after the team dinner that Robin caught his gaze and gave him a meaningful look.
That’s when the waves of butterflies hit.
They took Robin’s truck – Killian had never gotten the hang of driving on the wrong side of the road and happily allowed others to chauffeur him around – and headed out to the shopping mall on the far side of town. There was a theater there that gave student discounts. Knowing their teammates, no one would be out that way celebrating, and it wasn’t likely that they’d run into Emma (the LAX team was on a retreat for the weekend) or Regina (who had an organic chemistry exam on Monday and had threatened to set anyone who disturbed her on fire).
A few things here. I (and Tina) really enjoy the image of Killian going “fuck it, no” and just demanding others drive him around. Usually with his feet on the dash of Emma’s Bug and she wants to smack him for it.
It’s also very hard sometimes to do like... little canon nods without beating people over the head with it. Particularly with magical shows like this. So I took a concept that I (and Tina) really enjoy, that Regina is a science nerd with her little potions kit, and translated it to the worst possible subject, organic chemistry, and viola, a perfect excuse for a super stressed student to want to light someone on fire.
Killian had found that there was always an odd moment concerning who paid when on a date with a man, but it seemed that Robin had already thought of that. “You get tickets, I’ll buy snacks?” he asked as they jumped out of the truck.
“Sounds good to me.”
GOING DUTCH, WHY DO ANYTHING ELSE ahem
They wound up eating most of the popcorn halfway through previews, making snide comments to the other about trailers for this overblown blockbuster or that lackluster comedy. By the time the lights went out, Killian was feeling more relaxed, though it still felt decidedly more like friends hanging out rather than a date.
About forty-five minutes in, he decided to make it feel like a date.
It took another fifteen minutes to build the courage to do it, sneaking glances at the armrest that lay between them and Robin’s arm casually resting on it.
He felt Robin still when Killian took his hand, and almost withdrew, but then Robin’s fingers laced with his and Killian’s heart soared.
He couldn’t remember the rest of the movie if he tried.
hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaannnnnnnnnnnnnnddddddddddddddd poooooooooooooooooooooooorrrrrrrrrrrrrnnnnnnnnnnnnnn I have a thing if you didn’t notice
They were quiet as they left, Robin’s hands casually tucked in his pockets. There weren’t many people leaving the theater at the same time, so Killian pretended to stumble, bumping their shoulders together and making Robin laugh. He nudged back and it turned into a little game, shoving one another until Robin finally just threw his arm around Killian’s shoulders. It was almost a headlock, and to anyone observing it would appear so, but he recognized it for what it was.
Maybe Robin understood the value of physical contact, too.
“So,” Robin said as he pulled up to Killian’s dorm a while later.
“Yeah.”
“That was nice.” Killian scoffed and Robin grinned. “Right, you have a better adjective?”
“I had a good time,” Killian said, his voice pitching high at the end, silently asking if Robin felt the same.
I always picture Killian’s voice cracking a little here, not just questioning but just nerves making his voice crack like he’s going through puberty all over again.
Robin smiled and reached over the center console to take Killian’s hand again. “I did too. Though perhaps next time we not dine with our teammates beforehand?”
“Is there a next time?”
“I’d like there to be.”
They stared at one another for a long moment until Killian smiled. “Alright. Next week?”
They had two more dates before the championship tournament hit, and Killian didn’t like to admit how it frustrated him to put whatever this was between them on hold for the sake of the game. At the same time, he knew it was more important to focus on winning, that there would be more time in the off-season, but he was frustrated all the same.
More because Robin seemed to hide behind his skipper mask, even when it was just the two of them discussing plays after a scrimmage.
He missed his friend. Or his… whatever this was.
~labels~
They won the next game, solidifying their place in the quarterfinals, but only by the skin of their teeth. Everyone was frustrated after the game, Robin snapped at everyone in the locker room, and Killian’s own frustrations at his own poor play combined with his personal frustrations towards Robin. He managed to hold his tongue until everyone else had gone, finally lashing out, “It’s enough that we’re aware of our own mistakes, mate, there’s no need to be a prick to us all on top of it!”
“I’m skipper, Killian, it’s my damn job to be a prick when you all deserve it!”
“And whose job is it to put you in your place when you’re being an unjust prick?!”
“Not yours, that’s for certain! Take it up with the manager if you have a problem with my skipping!”
now angerbang
this isn’t commentary so much as it’s me pointing out where they could have fucked before they actually fucked, but I wanted angsty shower sex so we had to wait
Killian fumed. “It’s not enough to know your team isn’t happy with their treatment? You stubborn arse, we selected you and we can damn well take that away. We know we won by the skin of our teeth, we know we need to do better next match, and trust me when I say we’re all going to be beating ourselves up over these mistakes until the next time we can go out there and prove we can do better than before.”
“It’s not enough,” Robin said, scowling.
“What should we do, Robin, become gods? Invest in a Time-Turner? Because the only way we can fix what already happened is to–”
Anything else he might have had to say was abruptly cut off, his ability to speak lost as Robin surged towards him, gripped his shoulders, and fused their mouths together.
If Killian had any lingering doubts about Robin’s intentions – if he was merely indulging Killian’s crush or humoring him so as not to cause any alienation or hurt feelings – they vanished. Hands moved slowly, from clutching to embracing, fingers tentatively twining in hair. They both were in need of a haircut, too superstitious about it at this stage in the game, but something deep and primal in Killian’s bones liked being able to twist his fingers through Robin’s hair as his tongue traced the seam of his lips and begged for entrance.
writing kissing is hard. I wish I could wax poetic about the difficulties of it, but really, writing about kissing fucking sucks sometimes. Kudos to everyone who can do it well.
He hadn’t any expectations for what kissing Robin Locksley would be like, hadn’t allowed himself to think that far ahead or get his hopes up. But even in his wildest fantasies he couldn’t have imagined this – there was a soft urgency to his kiss, unsaid words pushed into actions and touches and the soft glide of their tongues, and Killian could feel Robin’s restraint, how much he was holding back, his inability to lose control in this moment and give in to the feeling.
He vowed to work on that.
Both were breathless when they parted, only enough to get air. Their foreheads touched and Killian almost chuckled when Robin’s mustache tickled his lip. He liked this – really liked this – the feeling of Robin’s arms around him and their bodies pressed chest to thigh. Though, he did try to angle his hips away, feeling his cheeks heat up as he realized Robin could surely feel his erection pressed against his thigh.
But if Killian wasn’t mistaken, and he’d bet a lot that he wasn’t, Robin wasn’t feeling very calm after that himself.
“Bad form,” Killian said finally, giving in and resting his head on Robin’s shoulder. It was a bit awkward, as Robin was actually a bit shorter, but he liked it anyway.
“Are you really commenting on my technique?” Robin asked, sounding both amused and exasperated.
“No,” Killian said with a laugh. “Bad form for shutting me up in the middle of a tirade. As for the actual kissing, that’s a solid eight out of ten.”
you will also pry feminist Killian Jones from my cold dead fingers. While this isn’t a particularly feminist point at the moment, there’s an annoying trend in media where a heterosexual couple is arguing and the woman is rightly mad about something, and the man stops her yelling at him by kissing her. Don’t kiss someone to shut them up, especially in an argument. Anyway, that was the point of that line, to point out how it’s dumb.
“I’m going to regret asking how one scores a perfect ten, aren’t I?”
Killian only grinned.
It was a hard loss.
The weeks leading up to the finals had been good ones. Robin had eased up a little, leaving any discipline discussions up to their manager and refocusing his energies on team morale. He’d confessed to Killian that part of his outburst had been fueled by his nerves about advancing their relationship.
Killian, in turn, was too stunned about Robin defining this as a real relationship to comment.
Little touches had helped. Lingering shoulder claps or gentle touches when they thought no one was looking. Spending time together after practices also helped; Swan knew enough that they could hang out in Killian’s room without much fuss, but Robin wasn’t sure about Regina’s reaction just yet. If anyone asked, they were studying together. If anyone took a closer look, they’d notice Killian’s hand on Robin’s thigh, or the casual way Robin’s arm slung around Killian’s shoulders.
Well, maybe one didn’t need to look too much closer.
about as subtle as a kangaroo in a flock of flamingoes
Still, playing the last few matches with that kind of support, that kind of assurance, helped. They’d entered the final match with their heads held high – all of them, everyone on the team – but losing in the championship would sting regardless of their pre-game morale.
Losing 5-0 basically annihilated whatever morale they had left.
I had to do a lot of research on how soccer playoffs or whatever works. In case you were wondering, Stanford won the championship I researched.
The team was slow to leave the locker room. Robin had no rousing speeches or kind words – in fact, he had no words at all. No one spoke, the silence dulled only by the steady hiss of the showers and punctuated by the occasional slam of a locker. Everyone trickled out in ones and twos, their heads decidedly less high than they’d been earlier that morning, until only Killian remained in the main room.
Sometimes he did this, lingering in the locker room, letting himself feel whatever emotions he felt after a match without worry that anyone would see. Today he sat with his head in his hands, going over every play in his mind and trying to find what he could have done differently, what plays they could have made instead.
He heard both Robin and Swan in his mind, telling him not to do this to himself, that he knew better.
Well, he did know better, but it was all he could bloody think about.
Disgusted with himself, Killian stripped off his grass-stained jersey and shorts, tossing his dirty uniform into a bag to be washed and grabbing his towel and shower things; everyone else would be back at the hotel by now and he’d join them later, but right now he had to wash off the stink of failure.
It appeared he wasn’t alone in thinking that.
He hadn’t noticed the water still running, but there was a lone occupant in the communal showers: Robin. Killian tried to think back to the last time he’d seen him and concluded that his boyfriend had probably been trying to literally drown his misery for at least three quarters of an hour.
Thanks, crazed Quidditch captain of my heart Oliver Wood, for the inspiration here.
Boyfriend. That was still strange.
Killian dropped his things in the partition, then stepped into the steam. “Rob.”
Robin turned slightly and Killian’s heart broke all over again at the self-loathing and anguish on his face. It mirrored his own feelings, but actually seeing it made him push them away and focus on trying to make Robin feel better. Or at least stop looking like he’d never feel happiness again.
They are in a gay relationship and there is angst. It’s different than gay angst, and I had suuuuuuuuuuch a hard time making myself comfortable with that and hoping I wasn’t going to be another hum-drum angsty slashfic.
As Killian went to hug him, it dimly registered that not only was this the first time in several years that he was seeing Robin naked, it was the first time they were even touching one another in an intimate way without clothes. And there was nothing sexy about it. And that was perfectly fine.
They didn’t speak, the water beating down on both of them and keeping them warm as Killian held Robin close; and it wasn’t as if he disliked the way that Robin clung to him, he just wished it were for any other reason than misery. And he really had no idea how to make it better.
For anyone keeping score at home, Sean is 5′9″ and Colin is 5′11″. For your height difference needs.
“You’re going to prune,” he finally said, voice barely audible over the hiss of the water. Robin only nodded, tucking himself under Killian’s chin. “Did you wash at all?” This time Robin shook his head.
Well, that was easily taken care of. Killian eased back to grab his things, then set to work.
He always found value in casual displays of affection. Whether it was hugging friends or letting Swan sleep on his lap when they watched telly or now gently washing Robin’s hair, Killian knew that simple touch, simple gestures of care, warmth, and safety were so scarce these days that the extra effort was appreciated by anyone on the receiving end.
Preening or grooming is an important mating habit, jsyk
He raked his fingers through Robin’s hair, massaging the shampoo in and scrubbing out the sweat and lingering feelings of defeat. Robin’s eyes were closed and slowly his features relaxed, following Killian’s gentle lead to tip his head back under the spray to wash away the soap suds. Then came the body wash and Killian was hesitant as he lathered up his hands and spread them across Robin’s chest. It was then that Robin opened his eyes, meeting Killian’s hesitant gaze with his own. “Can you handle it?” Killian asked.
“Yes, I think so,” Robin said; it was hard to hear him over the sound of running water, his voice hoarse from shouting on the pitch and likely from the emotions that kept him shut away in his self-imposed confinement.
Killian nodded and stepped back, going to scrub his own hair while Robin got the soap.
He sighed as he stepped into the spray, scrubbing his fingers against his scalp and inwardly bemoaning the fact that he desperately needed a haircut. With finals coming up he’d be hard pressed to find time to get it done, though perhaps he’d ask if one of Swan’s teammates knew how to cut hair.
“Killian.”
He jerked up, wiping water out of his face as Robin took a step towards him. Their lips met and Killian grunted in surprise, hands automatically moving to cup Robin’s head and circle his waist. “Make me forget,” Robin whispered against his lips. “Make me feel good, Killian, please.”
Initially I set out to do like actual penetration sex, but then every single slash panel I’ve attended was like “LUUUUUUUUBEEEEEE” and I can’t just magic lube here like I could elsewhere. So then it came down to “well, sex can be a lot of things, and not all m/m sex is penetration”. Hence how it became trading angsty blowjobs.
His cock swelled at the words and nudged Robin’s. Killian swallowed hard, pulling back only enough to look his boyfriend in the eyes. “Are you sure?”
He didn’t want this to be something Robin regretted, this large of a step in their relationship brought on only by the urge to expunge negative feelings. But by God, did he want to.
Robin gave a small nod. “Yes.”
Killian surged forward, their lips crashing together and making Robin stumble back slightly. They turned so that Robin was practically pinned against the wall but for Killian’s hand reaching down to grip his ass. They both groaned, Robin’s hips jerking up as Killian kneaded and squeezed the firm muscle. Killian moved quickly, kissing a path down his jaw and gently biting the thick cords of Robin’s neck before reaching the juncture. He bit a little more hard, then sucked. Laving his tongue against the skin, desperate to mark him in some primal need to stake his claim, and squeezed Robin’s ass in time with his sucks. Killian pulled back with a slight popping sound, then dropped to his knees, ignoring the hard tile as his free hand traced the muscled lines of Robin’s stomach. Even over the water, Killian heard Robin suck in a breath when his hand reached his cock; glancing up, Killian saw he was being watched with an intense expression and hooded eyes. “You like this?” he asked, running gentle fingers over Robin’s cock before wrapping his hand around it.
He gave it an experimental pump, watching Robin’s eyes flutter shut and his head fall back against the wall. “Ah, ah,” Killian scolded, getting used to the feel of Robin’s cock and moving his hand in firm, even strokes. “Watch me.”
Killian Jones, voyeur extraordinaire.
With that, Killian leaned forward and flicked his tongue against the head. He heard Robin groan as he tasted the salty precum leaking from the tip, then wrapped his lips around the head.
Robin’s hand fisted itself in Killian’s hair as he promptly put every other blowjob he’d ever given to shame. His tongue swirled around the head and traced the fat vein pulsing along the side of the shaft. Robin’s cries echoed through the room, his hips jerking in Killian’s hold and forcing his cock further down Killian’s throat. He only gagged the first time, not expecting it, but relaxed and tried to keep a stronger hold on Robin as he continued.
See the nice thing about giving and receiving the same things is that I only have to do details like this once. The other time is just all reactions and I can go on autopilot. It’s hard to write this stuff and make it seem fresh every time.
When one hand went to fondle Robin’s balls, that seemed to be the breaking point. Killian eagerly swallowed his release as Robin came with another shout, only wincing slightly as the hold on his hair tightened. Only when he’d licked the last of it away did Killian sit back on his haunches, looking up to see the results.
Robin slumped against the wall, head tilted back as he caught his breath. As his eyes opened, Killian grinned. “Get up here,” Robin practically growled, taking the offered hand and hauling him up.
smol and sexually frustrated Robin Locksley
Something had snapped in him; Killian felt it as Robin’s kisses became fiercer, more possessive. Killian groaned deep in his throat as Robin practically shoved him back against the wall, his mouth tracing a similar path that Killian’s had done earlier, though Robin paid attention to different areas of his body. Robin nibbled his ears before nipping his way down Killian’s neck; his hands weren’t idle either, running down Killian’s sides and kneading his ass in a decidedly greedy manner. Killian shuddered as Robin’s fingers danced along his thighs, wondering what it might feel like to be pinned to the wall and properly fucked – but that would have to be another time, when they were prepared and not trying to distract each other.
My small reminder to myself that no, we can’t penetrate here. Also a side note: I’m really conscious of how often Killian is portrayed as the “feminine” one in pairings like Captain Charming. Like, going so far as to give him “feminine” descriptors such as “whine” or “mewl” and making him the reciprocator in anal penetration. So yes, Killian likes to be fucked, (and tbh I like writing him getting fucked) but I did a lot of rereading and conscious word choice throughout this piece so it wasn’t like a “oh just replace one character with a woman and it’s the same” thing. Which happens SO MUCH in slash it’s incredible. and by incredible I mean infuriating.
As he mused, Robin slowly dipped down, pausing briefly to pay attention to Killian’s nipples and nose through the thick, wet hair covering his chest. (One of the many things Killian appreciated was that Robin was nowhere near as hairy as he was; only one of them needed to be part-wolf.) His breath hitched as Robin ran his tongue along his abs, tracing a path down to Killian’s aching cock and wasting absolutely no time at all before wrapping his lips around the head.
somehow this didn’t turn into a lycan-fic
Killian would have to take a moment later, when he wasn’t about to collapse from pleasure and when he wasn’t trying to contain screams, to appreciate that as both of them were uncircumcised, both knew exactly how to handle the other’s cock. It was a marvel, and one he would put into appreciative words.
Later.
Eventually.
Apparently this means that docking is possible, but from what I understand docking is very unsafe, so don’t try this at home unless you want ripped foreskin. #safesexwithAmanda
When his boyfriend wasn’t going down on him so earnestly, one hand playing with his balls and the other teasing Killian’s ass and making him want to melt into a puddle of goo.
He tried so hard not to rut his hips, not to fuck Robin’s mouth, but God he couldn’t help it. He did his best to keep his thrusts shallow, but then the goddamn son of a bitch sucked hard and Killian’s body jerked involuntarily; he felt the head of his cock brush the back of Robin’s throat and almost came right then.
He decided to copy Robin’s earlier move and threaded his fingers through Robin’s hair; he silently urged him to move faster, desperate for more and half-wild from the need to come. Robin obliged, his tongue swirling and his teeth ever-so-slightly grazing along the shaft and Killian vaguely tasted blood from biting his lip too hard to keep from crying out.
He didn’t remember an orgasm that powerful before, his hips rutting and rutting into Robin’s willing mouth as he came down his throat. He sagged when it was over, when he was finally spent, and released Robin’s hair to let him up. Killian fell gratefully into Robin’s kiss, both of them more relaxed and their touches more tender, less frantic than before. “Water’s getting cold,” Robin said softly, cupping Killian’s face briefly before tracing the line of his jaw.
using up a university’s ENTIRE supply of hot water, w2g boyos
“Someone interrupted my wash,” Killian said, his weak joke earning a grin in response.
Robin ducked out first, letting Killian scrub himself, though he was a bit more reluctant to wash away the feeling of Robin’s lips over his body. It was a consolation to realize they could do it all over again another time, with more time and more preparation and less chance of someone walking in on them in a somewhat public locker room.
Nothing sexy about locker rooms, he thought, Swan’s words from several months ago coming to mind, we’ll see about that. He wasn’t one to kiss and tell, but he’d give a mild update to Swan when they returned.
Perhaps. Or perhaps he’d keep this new, warm feeling in his chest to himself for a while longer. His own private happiness to keep the demons of defeat away.
Or perhaps it was a private happiness to be shared by two people; Robin’s face when Killian went to change was a complete 180 from before, soft and with a glow that matched the one Killian felt.
They kept sneaking glances at each other as they dressed, smiling when their eyes met. When Killian’s head popped through the opening of his shirt, Robin was there, moving to gently cup the back of Killian’s head and touch their foreheads together. “Thank you,” he said softly.
“Anytime,” Killian replied. “Really.”
That made Robin laugh. “Next time let’s be a bit more private, though, eh?”
They slung their bags over their shoulders and Robin took Killian’s hand as they left the facility. Killian gave it a squeeze, a reassurance that it would be okay – and it would, they both knew it. Their shower dalliance bled away most of the poison but some of the sullenness would return.
But it would be okay. They had each other.
They’d be okay.
and they’ll wear each other’s jerseys and have plenty of time to get better at sex during the offseason! :D Thanks for rereading with my SUPER ENLIGHTENING commentary!
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Here’s my proper reply :)
*hugs back* I love talking to you toooo you’re such an awesome friend *ugly tears*
Yeah, I’ve been thinking about that too. I guess the only explanation is that some part of Kaneki’s body is still human, since he IS an artificial ghoul. Though I have to wonder how Touka can be sure the kid needs human food….it seems she hasn’t told Ken or anybody else so she couldn’t have gotten advice/info about it, and though Touka’s no idiot it’s not like she’s an expert on biology.
I wonder if Ishida’s going to be like ‘lol sorry the kid’s basically full ghoul and Touka’s been poisoning it with human food in the womb’
(jk, jk, but really)
Or wait, crack theory (please don’t take this seriously, it isn’t meant to make sense):
You know those theories that Uta isn’t actually 100% ghoul (or at least not a 'normal’ ghoul)? So, what if it was Uta back in THAT chapter. I mean, he’s been trolling Ken since the first series so…
And Touka somehow found out about the whole thing and still wants to keep the kid, which is why this is happening.
Wow, it would actually be awesome if Eto adopted the kid and raised them to understand what it means to be a part of both the ghoul and human worlds! If she was planning to pass on the title of the OEK to the child but ended up growing too attached, giving them the childhood she never had and telling them that though she’s crowning them as the new 'King’ she wants them to truly live- “Bridge the gap between the two worlds, become a leader and a spark of hope for those who need it, but never lose sight of yourself and your happiness. Martyrdom doesn’t pay, you know?”- because their father, Kaneki, failed to do so and that was what ruined him.
I think the hair suits Chris Hemsworth pretty well (OTL I have sinned, forgive me Queen Luna) but it doesn’t suit Thor…? Idk. He doesn’t look like Thor anymore haha
I feel like they’ll let it grow back in later movies, though :)
I agree that their canon bond is supposed to be platonic (possibly goes deeper than that, just not in a romantic way) but the fandom can dream ^^ I actually don’t mind either way because I ship Clint with Laura (his wife) as well.
Well, not exactly. Sharon’s still a pretty minor character but I think she had a lot of potential until that romance just killed it (I mean, she doesn’t have much of a personality, but she had one pretty cool scene in Civil War (before the Notp happened) that made me like her).
Don’t you dare I need someone to ship Stoki with me, please ;-; don’t leave me alone with all this pain
I’m glad you enjoyed the comments about Kanae ^^ (sorry I’m in an evil, gloating cinnamon roll mood today)
Oh, we’re actually pretty similar then! I mean, I have a few artists I could say I’m a fan of (Lana Del Rey, Lorde, Marina, Fall Out Boy) but most of the other songs I listen to are just chosen at random from all over the place.
If you liked Still Sane, though, I recommend Lorde’s new album (Melodrama)! It’s been years and she’s finally back :) there’s a song called 'Liability’ on the album that I really relate to and also reminds me of Kaneki ;-; I’ve also been obsessed with 'Perfect Places’ and 'Sober’ for a while now.
Oh my XD reading that reminded me of one of my older MCU characters who was pretty bad: it’s been a while so I’ve forgotten most of the details, but I remember she had a cat theme (her powers were probably something like enhanced agility??? and claws??? I think?) and was this super edgy anti-hero who shouldn’t even have been allowed to work with SHIELD in the first place but you know, terrible OC logic. She’d stand on top of buildings and make angsty speeches with her impractically long hair flowing in the wind…. and of course she had this intense love-hate relationship with Loki that was just full of unnecessary drama.
(Again, I don’t really remember much about my old OCs (conveniently forgot all my worst creations haha) so I’m just guessing here ^^;; I think this is mostly the sort of cringe-worthy stuff I came up with though)
Nara sounds cute! It’s admirable that she doesn’t get discouraged and tries her best even with guys like Yuuri and Phichit around :) I’d love Kya (that’s her name, right?) also seems really cool- her powers are a nice twist on the old 'communicating with/controlling animals’ thing :D
Whew, I’m glad Tatsuo didn’t get lost ^^ I accidentally erased his 'profile’ like two or three times when I was trying to send him to you and I was getting really frustrated…was he ok?
Also I was trying to make his profile a bit 'light’ and funny but I probably failed lol
And since you said you wanted to see my suffering TG OC, I’ll send you Naomi now! :) And maybe some of my other OCs with her, because I love creating characters and end up making some for almost all the fandoms I’m in even if I have no intention of ever using them (Naomi and Tatsuo are probably going to be confined to our conversations because I have no idea how I’d use them in a fic).
Ayyyy the blog is so pretty ! ! ! <333333
Wow, first you somehow associate me with my favorite color before I ever told you that’s what it was, then I choose the character you most relate to as your icon…? This is weird but also strangely cool, if that makes sense lol
I actually learned to play Merry Go Round of Life on the piano a while ago and my teacher told me it was a waltz-like piece, so I should try to stay true to that (needless to say I failed miserably for quite a while haha). You’re right, it’d be lovely to see a couple dancing to it :)
(Why am I imagining Yumikuri waltzing to that song ;-;)
((This is my favourite hug gif of all times))
I mean, yes, Kaneki is a half ghoul, but he’s more powerful than some full ghouls, not to mention his Rc levels are as high as a ghouls. I think that getting a Kakuja also ‘helped’ him to bridge the gap between half-ghoul and more or less-ghoul. However, since it is an incomplete Kakuja.
This is all so confusing ;-;
That wouldn’t surprise, me honestly. It would make fans suffer more and what does he like more than suffering?
OH MY You’re totally right! When a healthy baby is born, with black hair and always has his kakugan activated (I don’t trust Uta’s explanation of it), Kaneki starts to doubt some things.
Not to mention, he never actually slept with Touka, so how the fuck would the kid be his?
Honestly, if Eto adopted the kiddo and gave it a beautiful childhood full of wonders and fun, somewhere away from Japan, I’d forgive Ishida everything, including (maybe) killing Hide, or, at least, if he’s not dead, keeping Hide away from us for so long.
She’s George Washington here.
‘Dreams of dying like a martyr?’ ‘Yes’ ‘Dying is easy young man/lady, living is harder’
So she encourages them to live, despite how hard it is, because the world is cruel, but also beautiful.
YES! It suits Chris, but not Thor! Which is why they should’ve given him a wig, at least =3= Oh well, all that’s left to do is wait for it to grow back. Hopefully it will.
Oh, I see. Then, it truly is a shame that the writers decided to go through with the ship of her and Steve :/
Heh. I’ll see...
Idk when I’ll watch Civil War, tho. Soon, probably
The only reason why I want to see Re animated is because of Urie and Kanae. That’s it, as long as those two get so much as 5 seconds of screen time, I’ll be happy.
Alrighty, I’ll make sure to listen to the album soon ^^
Oh wow, that’s certainly an interesting OC...
So, angsty catwoman in MCU? Sounds exactly like something I’d make, just with wolves instead of Cats (i had an unhealthy obsession with wolves (and werewolves!) when I was younger ;-;)
I recently remembered my Fairy Tail OC. You ready for it? Idk which one’s worse, this one or the FMA one ;-;
A dragon slayer (which is already a very Sue trait), but she didn’t have one element. Oh no, she was the QUEEN dragon slayer, which meant she could use any element she wanted *nods head*
See, that was my worst problem when making characters. I was more or less tame with looks and I tried to give them character flaws (but it usually made them endearing, whoops), yet I just had to give them powerful abilities or something.
Now that i think about it, I’m glad I never made an OC for TG. Now that would’ve been a show.
Waddaya say we make the biggest, most sueish character we can think of?
Let’s see, to begin with, they would definitely have a chimera Kagune. Now, the most kagune a ghoul can poses, as far as we know, is 3, but why stop at that? The glorious character should definitely have all 4!
At one point, I stopped writing down my OC stuff. Now I’m very thankful about that, since it means I forgot most of it.
Aw, I’m glad you like the characters ^^ Honestly, as a writer, one of my first impulses when watching something is either to make an AU (for the show’s characters or for characters from other shows thrown into that situation) or to make an OC. So, Nara and Kya are one of the more recent ones.
Tatsuo is a magnificent bastard, if I’ve ever seen one. Seems like either the guy who’d immediately become my problematic fave or the character I can’t stand.
Keep them coming huehuehue
I definitely enjoy reading about other people’s OCs!
I can’t wait to see Naomi! And feel free to send me other ones as well ^^
Thank you! I’m glad you like the new blog ^^ I wanted to change the palette to something lighter and more summer-like, so I think pastel yellow was a nice choice ^^
We are connected
Oh, that’s so cute! I never had the will to print the sheet music out, honestly. I’m too lazy for my own good :p
Why are you giving me the feels™ :))
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❝ you have no fucking right to treat me this way. ❞ ( i think we both know what this would be about )
don’t look at him. don’t look at him, veronica – don’t you DARE. ––––– she can hear it in his voice, knows that she is hurting him and it is cutting through her like a knife. her gaze is hazy, tears remain unshed but she can feel that it is only a matter of time until she breaks. it’s better this way ––– that’s what she keeps telling herself despite the fact that the pain is almost unbearable. out of all the things her father has done in the past, making her give up steve, making her give up what they could have had is, without a doubt, the most vicious and cruel. hiram lodge does not PLAY AROUND. when he wants something done, it gets done and ronnie knows that, knows better than to disobey him.
“steve…” his name tastes bitter on her tongue. she wants to touch him, wants to hold him but she figures that would just be unnecessary brutal - for both of them. this was easy, once. the old veronica even found some sick, twisted joy in breaking hearts. it made her feel powerful. but when she makes the HORRIBLE mistake of lifting her gaze and looking into his eyes, she feels defeated. this isn’t some teenage fling coming to an abrupt end, not just a summer romance that was pretty much doomed from the start. he matters to her - she truly cares.
oh but she can’t show him, can’t tell him, can not let him know !! she went through this in her head, over and over again. the only way she can make this work is if she HURTS him. so what she does is she blinks away the tears, sets her jaw and lets her gaze harden the same way her heart should. “it was FUN, okay?” voice emotionless when she finally does reach for him, pinches his cheek in a playful manner. “it’s actually adorable how upset you are!” there is a smirk on her face - fake amusement that does not reach her eyes. she’s got it down to an art, being the ice cold bitch. has YEARS of experience under her belt and she will make use of it, of every single cliché, every single line she can think of.
“but come on, stevie. you KNEW this would end, right? i mean… you did not actually believe that there would ever be something between you and me!” head’s tilted then, brows raised. “or did you? oh my god dear, no. no, no, no. that is so SAD.” her expression twists almost painfully then. she hopes it looks like pity but her heart is hammering in her chest, each word threatening to choke her. she can barely breathe, can barely stand but she has to get this over with. “let me break it down for you…” she takes a deep breath, lets her gaze wander to a spot right next to his head –– she can’t look at him when she says it. “i don’t waste my time with pathetic little boys. i’m veronica lodge –– the last thing i want is to be stuck with a miserable boy in a miserable town for the rest of my miserable life. let’s be real, you’ll never make it out of here. and i won’t let you drag me down with you, pretty face or not. i deserve better.”
@miistakesmade || i can not believe u made me do this.
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I married my best friend - Part 1
Table of contents : Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5
Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff.
Pairing: Jongdae x Reader
Summary: It all began with a lie. You ended up marrying your best friend, Jongdae. Will this be for the best ? Or the worst ?
You faced your husband to be, alias your best friend Jongdae. Both of you concluded a deal which started with your lie. But how did it really begin ?
You met your ex some days ago. He left you miserably two months ago. But visibly, he forgot well about you since you met him with his new girlfriend. Well, his mistress. When he asked you how you were doing, you couldn’t help but responded that you got married, which surprised your ex and your rival. « To who ? » he asked, and then, the first person you thought was Jongdae. Immediately after that embarrassing moment, you felt guilty because Jongdae had nothing to do with your poor heartbroken story.
When you called him right after that, saying you needed to see him right now, he didn’t oppose but was curious about why you needed to see him so much. After explaining this big lie he laughed. You were at his apartment. He couldn’t stop laughing, so hard that you pouted, vexed by his attitude toward you as you we worried. You sighed and said desperately : « It’s not funny Jongdae ! ».
Jongdae stopped laughing and looked back at you with a mischievous smile. « Ah waeeee ! Why you said that ? » « I don’t know ! » you responded. « I…I wanted to make him regret what he’s done to me ! » « By saying you’re married, and to ME ? Do you really think he’ll believe you ? » « I don’t know, but … »
Your conversation was interrupted by the notification of your phone. It was your other best friend, Jin Hee. « OMG ! Is that true that you married Jongdae ?! ». You screamed in despair, dropping your phone on the table. « What ? » he asked. You showed your phone to him, hiding your eyes. « Has this piece of shit just spread that damn lie ? » You felt more and more guilty. « It seems so… Oh my god, Jongdae I’m so sorry ! » . You didn’t answer to Jin Hee.
You let a heavy silence as you both think hard about how you were going to escape from that well build trap that you made yourself. « Okay, we have no choice » he said suddenly. « Eh ? ». He looked right at your eyes. « We’re getting married ». You choked yourself with your saliva. « What ?! But Jongdae are you crazy ?! What about you ? I mean, we are BEST FRIENDS, we can’t be HUSBAND & WIFE ». « Did you see it written somewhere ? » « No but… » « Enough. I guess it can’t be helped, and…I have to say that I always wanted to get revenge on this little bullshit when he cheated on you. And it’s not like we didn’t know each other. What would you have done if you had said a random name ? » « I… » « See ? »
And that’s how you decided to get married. You tried to see it positively. Living with Jongdae was not a problem. You were getting along really well, and your families loved you both. Hence, you decided to establish rules:
- No unnecessary skinships when we are alone.
- No random guests without telling each other -because you wanted to lie well-
No sexual contact
Texting each other if we have told something to a common acquaintance.
Not falling in love with each other.
That’s what you suggested and Jongdae didn’t have any objections. Your family was surprised but happy about your wedding with Jongdae. You lied about your pretended romance with him, saying that you were in love with him for a long time ago and so he said to his family. The hardest thing passed. But, all of your common friends were shocked. You wondered if they believed you.
« Whaaaaat ? You are getting married ?! You two ? » cried Chanyeol
« Er…Yeah » you said.
« You little…I can’t believe that you are saying it to us after all of these loyal years ! » growled Baekhyun.
« Sorry guys ! I know that you are shocked but - Jongdae held your hand with a perfect smile-…We are truly in love - you shivered- and we didn’t want to hide anymore »
« Well played ! I was fucking shocked when Min Son - your ex- told me that » said Jin Hee. « How could you not tell me Y/N ? »
« I’m sorry…I…I »
« I told her not to say anything » said Jongdae.
You owned him one. He was so good at lying but you were too nervous to act well, but you had too. That’s what Jongdae reminded you on pressing your hand in his.
« Yeah…Actually I felt so bad not telling you guys…We were afraid that you would be…upset » you finished.
« Upset ? Us ? For God’s sake ! You thought that we would opposed to this ? I mean, you are our friends, if you love each other then that’s wonderful… » added Sehun, the youngest of the crew.
« Eeh, you lied to us so you have to pay for that » said Minseok playfully. « You have to invite us to your wedding ceremony »
« As if we wouldn’t » answered Jongdae with his mischievous laughed.
Relieved that all of your friends believed you, all that you needed to do was the form, and that damn ceremony. You had no choices, and you couldn’t say no to your families. Especially your mother. You were a single child, so it was her dream to see your wedding, so your father wanted.
The next months, you were busy with the preps. Head in the clouds, you were the most nervous. Actually, Jongdae was so relaxed. You wondered how he was doing so well while you couldn’t help but thinking that you were getting married to your best friend and someone that you really never saw as a man. Not that Jongdae was ugly, but it was so natural for you to be best friends. You received a lot of mails, and letters from your colleagues, friends…and the one that you waited the most : your ex. Jongdae posted all the wedding invitations so you were the one dealing with the answers.
« What did he say ? » asked Jongdae. You were in the living room, you at the table with your computer, and the received letters, him on the floor, with his own computer. « He’ll go » you answered as you turned the screen at him. Jongdae looked closer and smiled. « Eeh…So he has some balls ». You hit him. « Cut it out » you said. « Hey, it’s not me who said that you’re married to your bestfriend ! ». You looked at the sky, sighing deeply. You apologised a lot to Jongdae, because you really felt bad about involving him. Not once he showed you any signs of annoyance or anger. That’s what you liked about Jongdae. He was so easy-going but such a cruel man when he was angry. Mostly, he was honest and harsh when he was angry. He could have said so much horrible things to you, but he didn’t.
You fixed the ceremony for the next month, in May. You had to buy your wedding dress, and the rings. Chen suggested to buy it himself, which you were against because you wanted to pay half of the price. But he insisted. Three weeks before the wedding, you went with your mother to do shopping. Your dad and her wanted to offer you your dress. You tried to show some happiness, but in your head, you were so sorry, and guilty. All of your family member seemed so happy about your marriage, but if they knew that it was all lie, you didn’t want to imagine the rest.
You tried so many pretty dresses, and none of them really pleased you. Actually, you couldn’t accept the fact you’re getting married in few times. Finally, you found it. It was a simple dress. You hated princess-like dresses with so much layer that it would be impossible to walk with. There were some lacework in your back, and in your front. Your mother liked it too. As the tradition wants it, Jongdae had not the right to see the dress before the d-day.
Finally, you were getting married. You looked at yourself in the mirror. You could have been the prettiest bride of the day, you could have been the happiest, but you were not. You wanted to cry. What have you done ? You heard someone knocking at the door of the waiting room. « Come in » you said. Jongdae stepped in the room. He was absolutely handsome in is black suit. He even had white gloves and a white tie. Flowers in the pocket of his jacket, he couldn’t be more handsome. « Hey…How do you feel ? » he asked while he approached you. You turned back to face him and he stopped right away, like speechless. « Wow…You’re gorgeous » he said seriously. « Thanks… » You sighed once again. « I…I really want to cancel everything…Jongdae I’m…I feel like wanting to die ! » He suddenly cupped your face and looked straight at your eyes. « Y/N…Listen to me…I know that we are doing something awful…We are lying to everybody, but we have no choice…And we’ll go through this…together. You’re my best friend, I won’t let you okay ? » You nodded slowly, sniffing. « No crying ! You’re gonna ruin your makeup ! » You laughed a little. It was the first time after all of the stress that you bottled up since the preparations.
Your friends came to see you before the ceremony. They all squealed when they saw you. Some of them cried, others just laughed like « I can’t believe that you’re getting married before me ». You played once again. « Did you see Jongdae ? » « Yeah…He was… » « Fucking handsome » finished Jin Hee. You nodded and you girls all laughed. « We have to go…Fighting ! You’re beautiful » « Thank you girls ».
You felt like those ten minutes were like an eternity. You began to have sweaty hands, and every inch of your body couldn’t help but shake. « It’s okay…It’s okay… » you repeated to yourself. « Y/N ? » asked your father. « Yes dad ? ». Your father looked so solemn when he came to take you to the alley. You could see his emotion in his eyes. After all, he was going to entrust his only daughter to the man he thought you loved. « You are the prettiest bride I ever saw…More than your mother » he added. « Dad ! » « I’m joking, but…You know that you will always be my little princess ? » « I know ». Then, he proposed his arm to you, and you gently took it. Having your father near you helped you a little.
« And now, applaud for the bride : Y/N ! »
The doors opened and finally, you saw the sea of people waiting for you. At the other side, he saw Jongdae, waiting for you. For a second, you believed that you were the luckiest girl in the world. You fooled yourself. When you walked with your father to him, he offered you the sweetest smile that a man could have done for you. You smiled back at him as you both turned at the MC of your wedding. Junmyeon. You chose him because he was like the mother of your crew.
« I’m really honoured to be here, celebrating an important day for my two friends: Y/N and Jongdae. We were all surprised when they said to us that they were getting married. But now that I can see them, I am confident on the fact that they will be a lovely family. »
All the audience listened to him, and you both two. You whispered to your best friend. « How are you ? » « Nervous as hell » he answered, looking straight before him. You smiled a little « Same. »
« …And now, I shall ask the groom to make his vows ».
Jongdae cleared his throat and took the mic and his vows.
« I, Kim Jongdae, make the solemn promise to love you everyday, being here for you as well in the happiness and in the illness. I also promise to be the best husband that you can ask for, and being devoted to you for the rest of my life » he said with no hesitation.
Your heart skipped a beat and now it was your turn. Your hand was shaking, but Jongdae tightened it when he passed you the mic.
« I, Y/N, make the solemn promise to love you everyday, being here for you as well in the happiness and in the illness. I also promise to be the best wife that you can ask for, and being devoted to you for the rest of my life ».
Your voice had shaken when you read your vows. Junmyeon continued. « You can exchange the rings. »
Jongdae put your ring at your finger first, looking at you. You made the same. « Now, before closing this ceremony. If there be any among you who may imagine some impediments as to why they should not be married, Let them now speak out, or forever hold their tongue. »
You both anxiously looked at the audience. You finally spotted your ex. He seemed pale and silent. You felt a bit of satisfaction as no one talked.
« Now, I pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride »
Suddenly you looked at Jongdae in shock. You forgot about that kiss. You never kissed Jongdae before, neither he did to you. You could see in is eyes « Believe in me ». He cupped your face and slowly approach his face to yours. You closed your eyes nervously. You felt a gentle touch on your lips. He was kissing you the sweetest way he could. You never imagine to kiss your best friend one day, but you were pleasantly surprised. You liked it. And something told you that him too.
#EXO#exol#exo fanfiction#kpop#kpop fanfiction#kim jongdae#byun baekhyun#park chanyeol#kim jongin#kim junmyeon#kim minseok#oh sehun#exo kai#exo baekhyun#exo chen#chen#smut#angst#fluff#seohyunnim#kpop smut#do kyungsoo#zhang yixing
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