#please stop venting to me i literally have no sympathy to your problems

[selamat-linting]

not to be a cunt but i do have a slight superiority complex because i've been through things that would make the average people kill themselves. if someone comes up to me, and say they've given up or they dont think of having a future, chances are i would mock them behind their backs. like, when i was a kid even my extended family and some of my neighbors THINK i wouldn't be able to finish elementary school because my mom and dad is a poor fuck up and i was a freak autistic little kid who cant afford a textbook. like, talk to me about hopelessness when even your own relatives see you as a baby and think you cant do the bare minimum. like, i do think im better than some of my friends.

#this is generalizing of course #and only applies to my irl peers who is mostly an ablebodied and neurotypical middle class kid who is having their quarter life crisis #like seriously. some of them have their college tuition PAID for by their parents #and they still feel like they'll never have a future #or they'd bitch about surviving a toxic relationship as if its as horrifying as witness domestic abuse as a kid #please stop venting to me i literally have no sympathy to your problems #YOU have the power to break this pattern yet you sit in complacency and simmer in depression until it almost killed you #i'll try my best to be a decent person to you but i have no sympathy #posts about my life #disclaimer : i know this is a problematic thing to say. i know im being an asshole. i know i should have more compassion #but rn. i dont have it

[chanluster]

10/10 | {m} ; {c} ; {f}

oneshot | friends with benefits! au | 18.7k words

“Because what you feel for your best friend cannot be described in words, but in numbers.”

s u m m a r y > > you and bang chan had no secrets between one other. each detail of your life would be discussed with your best friend of forever, no matter how insignificant it may be, through a little system you both had concocted — through a small rating. a number out of ten. a simple concept, used from being a child and rating your cookie a solid eight out of ten to your later years in high school, giving your first kiss a measly five. however, when you confess an average rating of your sex life in one hazy evening, chan decides this dilemma cannot be solved with buying you consolation cookies. he must simply raise that rating, all by himself.

w a r n i n g s > > friends to lovers! au, college! au, music! major chan, music! major reader, you both are literally soulmates, came out the womb holding hands, so much teasing, sexual! tension! chan has a massive fucking cock (i mean isn’t it obvious already), shit loads of making out, aggression, fingering, oral (f. and m. receiving), unprotected sex (stay safe homies!!!), kinda hate sex, orgasming left and right, ex! hyunjin, who’s also really bad at sex lmfaoaoao sorry king, chan is hella soft dom at the start but goes !!! hella hard later!!!! (i mean idk but) shit ton of fluff, friend! jisung which chan gets soooo jealous of, reader is so fucking annoyin, teensy weensy bit of angst, and yeh basically me venting out my love for chan once again

p l a y l i s t > > here!

a u t h o r ’ s n o t e > > this is dedicated to my dear friend chloe, boo i love u so much and thank you for that insane prompt :( also help this feels so rushed to me at the end but i hope y’all do enjoy <3

t a g l i s t > > @hanflix @thatonepieceofpineapple @kimkailover @decembermoonskz @smilesohwas @missskzbiased @illicit-roses @embroideredstarz @freckledquokka @moonluvbunny @aliceu @coupscarat @maedesculpaeusoubi @baby-wolf @multi-fandom-kpop-stan​ @minaamhh @leescrt

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“I’M SORRY, BUT I DON’T THINK I CAN DO THIS ANYMORE.”

Hyunjin’s face faltered completely at your words. It was expected, really. The poor boy was not anticipating this news.

“Wh-what?” he asked, a little too loudly, catching the stares of a few others in the coffee shop. You immediately glared at him, and he retracted back into his seat, but still had a befuddled expression on his face. 

You sighed a little. “Look,” you started, swirling your latte with a thin, wooden stirrer. “I’m going to be completely honest with you. I just think we’re much better off as friends.”

“Friends?” the boy flinched at the term, and even you had to hide your self-distaste. God, ____, at least try to be a little nicer! “Damn it, we’ve been dating for nearly three months, and you think we’d automatically become friends?!” he leaned in, knitting his eyebrows in growing desperation. “What the hell happened?”

You fought hard to not scratch the back of your neck. And possibly run away from the shop. Taking a long sip, you tried to feign the most sympathetic expression you could muster. “Hyunjin, please…”

“B-but, babe—” he started, and his eyes widened, trying to grab onto your hands which cupped the latte. “I don’t understand, we were so happy!” He huffed a smile, trying to convince you of your oh-so heavenly times spent with him. “Why are you thinking like this?”

You tried not to retract your hand from his — not only because it was hard to console him, but because they were embarrassingly sweaty. “Don’t think I have just done this on a whim. I have thought long about this decision.”

Finally, something out of your mouth which wasn’t a blatant lie. You had been thinking of breaking up with this goon — had the notion in your mind for half the time you dated him.

“____,” he said, and the melancholy you heard in his voice had you silencing your tongue. “What’s happened?” He began to caress your hand with his fingers. “Have I...have I done something wrong?”

Oh no. There it was. The reaction you dreaded.

Well, kind of. But still. Not the reaction you imagined in the perfect situation. 

Reluctantly, you put a hand over his fingers, hoping that your face was a painting of sympathy. 

“Hyunjin.”

Don’t say it, girl! Don’t you dare!

“It’s...it’s not you.”

You put your hand on your heart. 

“It’s me.”

Oh, Jesus.

Your eyes raised to his own, wide and glistening. 

Now, you knew Hwang Hyunjin was not the brightest kid on campus. The boy, who once asked you what the purpose of a spork was, may not have possessed the most intelligence, but you were scared that he may be smart enough to figure out that what you just said was complete, utter bullshit. 

Face it, ____. You’re done for.

A few tears spilled from his eyes, and a pang of guilt shot through you. “I-I see.” 

He did not let go of your hands. “We can still be...friends, right?” he sniffled, blinking at you rather irritatingly. “Like, we can still hang out together?”

You raised a brow, but reigned in a sarcastic reply. The boy would probably not even understand. “Of course,” you replied, a saccharine smile on your face. “But I think it’s best if we had some space from each other, okay?”

That was not the answer he seemed to be looking for, but he nodded, a little sadly. “Okay.” He still refused to take his hand away. “Does that mean I can’t rock up at yours midnight anymore if the junior needs a little taking care of?” 

Your brows could not help furrow in absolute exasperation. “Yes, Hyunjin,” you monotoned, unable to believe that you put up with this man for three months. “Now can you let go of my hand?” 

Realising his clammy hold on you, he flushed, looking away from your directory gaze. “I...should go, then.”

“No, no,” you insisted, getting up from your seat as you grabbed onto your drink. “I shall leave. I’m the one who dumped this news on you.” 

You debated leaving without paying for the latte — you knew the boy was still infatuated enough to cover your expenses. Sadly, shame coursed through your veins, and you cursed yourself for feeling a little sympathy for your now ex. “Here,” you offered, fishing out a little cash from your jacket. “For the drink.”

When you nearly stepped past him, you stopped, looking down at him as he tilted his head upwards. Your hand itched to put upon his shoulder, but you knew better. Hyunjin would only take that as a hopeful sign.

“I’m sorry,” was the last thing you said before you left the coffee shop.

Upon falling into a leisurely step onto the street, you let out a harsh breath, an endless amount of relief washing over you.

You were almost delighted to let Hwang Hyunjin go.

Now, it was not like he was a monster who had caged you into his two-feet-squared, dingy flat. In fact, the boy was, in almost every way, a decent boyfriend, whose stupid personality earned him a few laughs. 

Although extremely corny, the problem was not truly all him.

It was partly you as well.

Hearing your phone vibrate, you brought it out from your jeans pocket, already having an inkling on who the sender was, spamming you with messages.

CHRIS THE PISS :

bitch have you done it?

CHRIS THE PISS :

helloooooo??

CHRIS THE PISS :

hoe answer the phone i’m dying!! 

CHRIS THE PISS :

or prolly hyunjin at this moment lmaooo

You could not help the eyeroll which escaped from his words, and you decided to ignore him until you arrived at your destination. 

Which, evident from the persistent vibrations still, you figured you could not do.

CHRIS THE PISS :

i KNOW ur reading my messages DAMN just tell me!!

CHRIS THE PISS :

unless this is hyunjin and u killed her FUCK

CHRIS THE PISS :

haha dude whats poppin!! best man for ____ by far don't know why she was breaking up w u 

YOU :

chan i will kill u :)

CHRIS THE PISS :

hyunjin i promise i didn't mean it when i said u looked like a cheese string w ur new hair

CHRIS THE PISS :

that was ur girl putting words in my mouth 

YOU:

omfg chan STFUUU i’m coming

CHRIS THE PISS :

PLS HYUNJIN I SWEAR UR SEXC

Letting the man panic, you turned a left into student residence, buildings lined down the street, providing accommodation for hundreds of people like you in need of a place to sleep, eat, party, and contemplate the inevitability of death under.

Smiling at a few acquaintances, you entered the designated building, finding yourself with dozens of doors of the same, dead colour. Walking along the hallway, you stopped right at the very last one, bringing out your keys.

With a single twist you unlocked the door, but before you wrapped your hand around the knob the door swung open, catching you completely off guard.

“Funny, Hyunjin, how did you manage to transform into a little bitch so quickly?”

You cursed at the man who welcomed you.

“Damn it, Chan,” you said, hand on your chest. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“Sad it didn’t kill you off, then.”

You heard him splutter into laughter at your sad attempts to pinch his shoulder, glaring daggers into his crescent eyes. The bumbling idiot was Bang Chan, the one man you managed to keep for your entire life. That too is purely because none of you could manage a stable, healthy relationship — which was a shame, of course, when your best friend, with his fluffy, raven curls, black-oversized hoodie and sweatpants, was admired by so many. You often wondered how you had not fallen at his feet when he smiled at you, but then he’d open his mouth and all would be understood, as your anger would flare up, and rush to hit him as hard as possible. 

He gave you such a smile then, fingers gripping the doorframe. “How is Rapunzel, then? Sent him back to the tower?”

Wrenching his hand off the frame, which nearly had him falling onto the floor, you side-stepped past his stumbling figure, peeling off your jacket. “Rapunzel is never stepping in our lands again.”

After regaining his step, he muttered a cursed endearment your way and sat himself down on the couch, instantly settling his laptop upon his legs. “Oh, God. How badly did you break his heart, ____?”

Smiling, you dumped the jacket on the side table as you entered the living room, settling on the other end of his sofa. Propping your legs upon his, you pondered over the answer, and said, “At least a good seven.”

Chan let out a little whistle. “Oh, he’s definitely causing a shitshow on the groupchat tonight.” A huffed laugh was his answer. “Want Chinese or Indian tonight?”

“Surprise me,” you said as he brought out his phone. He dialled a number, and then you added, “Actually, can we please get Chinese?”

“No, we’re getting Indian.”

You raised a brow. “Didn’t you cry the last time you had their special curry?” 

The man stared at you for a minute before sighing, putting the phone to his ear. “I’d like your least spiciest dish please.”

He groaned as you pushed his legs off the couch, laughing at his pathetic tolerance towards spice. As he carried on with his order, you grabbed the TV remote, surfing through the channels. 

Even after all these years, you still found it endearing how Chan understood the depth of the numbers you tell him. The system between you two had been created during kindergarten, when, on the last day, you both had received such delicious cookies that words could not express the joy you felt when having the first bite. It was a mere joke at first, rating random classmates despicably low in middle school to even more serious situations, when you moaned to your best friend of your mundane kiss, expecting fireworks and butterflies yet were only met with an over-enthusiastic tongue. 

Chan himself used this system  — it was the reason you knew of his distaste towards spicy food, and certain girls he had dated in the past. Even now, when the two of you had started college together, working on the same projects and going to the same parties, this concoction had not been shelved in your memories. Although this may be something which others might deem insignificant, the concept had become a pillar of your friendship with this absolute loser.

The food arrived within the hour, and you both continued your box set as the plastic containers were cracked open, the pungent smell of curries and biryanis filling the room. Chan provided the plates and cutlery while you poured him the sufficient amount, and you rebuked his whining as you added the spicier dishes onto his plate.

“I refuse to let you eat only korma, Crispy,” you scolded. “Prick, careful! Don’t spill it on your laptop!”

“Bitch!” he yelped as a bit of the residue nearly stained his sweats, but was saved by his hands. “Just ruin everything I wear, why don’t you? Now I got curry on my fingers!”

You propped your legs over his again, eyes upon the screen once more, and the action occurring. “Just lick it off?”

“How about you do it for me?” the boy then simpered out, and you nearly tossed your entire dish on his head. 

“Let’s just focus on Tommy and his cocaine problem,” you dismissed him, but returned his impish smile as you elbowed him, nearly causing his food to stain his hoodie.

The two of you seemed to settle down after a bit and watched the show, commenting on the terrible choices the characters were making, and then boasted of how you and him could easily be the better leader from the protagonist. Soon, you had finished your takeout, and after Chan followed, he got up, hurrying into the kitchen situated behind the doorway in the lounge. He then came back, you delighted to find his hands occupied with two tubs of Ben & Jerrys’.

“Gimme, gimme, gimme!” you sang, snatching one of the tubs from him and pulling open the cover, digging straight in. “I didn’t know you brought ice cream!”

“Thought it’d help with the breakup,” he confessed, settling back into the sofa, shuffling closer to you. “But it doesn’t look like you need it.”

“Oh, I can’t believe Hyunjin broke my heart like this!”

Chan shook his head at your melodrama. “You may fool the looney princess, but you’re not fooling me.”

“You know me too well,” you said, which he agreed to with an absent-minded hum, eating his dessert.

There was a short pause, a comfortable silence reigning upon you both for a little before your best friend broke it, gulping down his ice cream.

“____?” 

“No, you’re not having any of mine.”

Chan prodded you lightly with his foot. “No, I don’t mean that. I was just wondering something.”

“Shoot.”

“You’re not...upset, right?” He took a bite of his ice cream. “Like, I know you always complained about him, but breakups can be difficult.”

You looked at him, and saw genuine concern painted on his face — along with a little vanilla stain on the corner of his lips. “You don’t have to pretend to be happy if you’re not, okay?” he continued. “Especially with me.”

Your heart melted slightly. “Of course, Chan, don’t worry. I wouldn’t ever lie to you.” 

Turning to the TV screen, you sighed as you thought of your recent relationship. “There were good moments for sure. He was still a sweet guy, you know?” You then stabbed the creamy plains inside the tub. “It was just so...dull.”

The man beside you took in another bite, if a bit slow. “What do you mean?”

Following him, you relished the chocolate goodness, swallowing. “Dates were kind of boring. I carried most of the conversations because he’s too thick to talk about anything.”

Chan let out a soft snort. “I remember you telling me about it. I can certainly believe it.”

“Well, you won’t believe what I’m about to tell you next.” You focused on your ice cream, a sarcastic smile plastered upon your face. “Hyunjin. Hwang Hyunjin was terrible at sex.”

You did not need to see your best friend to sense his shock. “What?”

A small chuckle escaped you. “First time he fucked me, I think I cried. Not because it was so good, no, but because it was so bad.”

“No way,” Chan said, brows furrowed. “Didn’t you say he had a big dick or something?”

“That’s the downside, bud,” you countered, halfway through your tub. “Because he had a massive cock he thought that was enough for me to enjoy. But it’s not. He just did not know what to do with it!” 

The man had been silenced. He took another bite of his ice cream, in disbelief. “So you were...deprived of pleasure?”

“Deprived?” You scoffed. “Chan, I thirsted for a crumb of pleasure. God, can you believe I’ve faked nearly all my orgasms with him?”

This time, your friend glanced at you in horror. Carrying on, you said, “The only real orgasm I had was not even because of him. God, I was thinking about Lee Donghyuck singing between my legs.”

A soft growl entered your ears. “Oh Christ.”

“Bastard was so proud when I came all over him,” you crowed, trying to sweeten your bitterness with the dessert. “If only I told him I undid myself for an idol I’m never going to meet.”

Your friend did not say anything. The episode finished, and when you noticed his further silence, you used it to your advantage, starting a romantic comedy before he could even complain.

Even with the movie on for about twenty minutes, and the romance you thoroughly enjoyed, the man stayed quiet, idly stirring his melted ice cream in the tub. You ignored his rather odd behaviour, assuming he was either thinking of his assignment or had gotten a brain freeze. Either way, it let you watch your movie in peace, swooning outwardly at the man’s teasing to the girl.

One hour in, and you asked if Chan was okay. “Yeah...yeah, I’m good,” was his answer, sending you a second-long smile before going back to his brain freeze. You raised a confused brow, but went back to the chick flick, gasping when the boy went back for his love.

This was it. The fireworks, the passion which exuded from the mere actions of lips enveloping lips, hands holding onto waists or necks or locks and refusing to let go. You craved for your heart to drop down in lust as you let yourself fall, be wrapped up in another as you undid yourself. Where was this? Where was this for you?

Did you not deserve your desires to be fulfilled? Did you not deserve to have your entire world turned upside down in pure exhilaration?

Before you knew it, the credits rolled, and you let out a long, laboured sigh, leaning into the cushions. “Maybe it’s time I find myself a millionaire who’d pay me to have sex with me.”

The man was still looking at the now black screen. “Do you mean a prostitute?”

“Well, yes, but—” you groaned. “You know what? Maybe I’m meant to stay forever displeased.”

It was after a long time your best friend spoke. “Or…” he cleared his throat. “You find yourself someone who would pleasure you.”

You turned to him. “Wowie, thank you for a perfect solution! I really wouldn’t know what I’d do without you.”

Then, you saw his eyes darken. “____.” He propped the tub upon the coffee table. “Why search for other alternatives when you have options right here?”

Confusion marred your mind, not just from his words, but his entire change of character. “Chan, what are you on about?”

“____,” he said, and his hand inched closer to yours. “ I’m saying you should have a friends with benefits.”

The silence was suddenly heard. You did not realise the sheer weight of this man’s gaze till his very stare gravitated you to him. The lights were dimmed, and all you could see from the laptop’s light was his face — his beautiful face. 

What was all this? Why was your best friend looking at you like that? Why were you being affected by his gaze?

“I…” You could barely get the words out. “I never thought about that before.”

Chan had no such problem. “Well, maybe you should. There are many who would gladly be that person for you.”

You gave him a look. “And who would they be?”

A slight cock of his head. “____, who is your best friend, in the same class as you, share the same interests and would help you out in any way whatsoever?”

The question rather befuddled you. Why couldn’t the man just say the answer already? You thought of the few viable options, tossing, turning the names. 

Then it occurred to you. Your friend’s face sparked a little in what could only have been hope.

“I know!” you exclaimed, holding onto his arm. “I should ask Jisung!”

The little sliver of hope in his eyes morphed into annoyance. “What the fuck?”

Raising your brow, you asked, “Is that not the right answer?” You listed out the evidence. “He’s basically my best friend, is in music with us, we like similar things and would be willing to help me in any situation. I think.”

When you were done, you found yourself more confused when Chan closed his eyes, shaking his head. “What?” you demanded.

“Oh my God.”

His fingers caressed yours, and you gasped to find your skin prickling at the touch. You raised your eyes to his, and found yourself lost for words.

“You dumb bitch, I should be your friends-with-benefits.”

Your mouth dropped.

Perhaps you would have said something, but then his thumb began stroking your skin, and you figured it was better to relish that instead. Thus, you looked at him, gobsmacked, not entirely sure what to say to his declaration. 

It seemed Chan was a little nervous too. “Look, I can tell you’re surprised…” he paused, a little lost for words as well. “Fuck, I guess I shouldn’t have suggested so early into the breakup, but you just…”

He pinned you with his gaze. “I couldn’t have my best friend miss out on the pleasure she deserves. And if that means giving you the pleasure myself, then I will do it.”

Bang Chan. Not just the best friend you’ve ever had, but the man who proposed benefits to this certain friendship.

“Well,” you got out, after what seemed like eternity. “Well damn.”

“We don’t have to do anything right now. Or even anytime soon.” He let go off your hands, and you did not know why the touch was missed so greatly. “Just...think about it for me, will you?”

You didn’t really have it in you to refuse. “Of course,” you said, feeling the need to touch something. Your eyes fell upon the remote, and figured you should distract yourself by watching the next episode of the series you previously watched. 

You needed a clear distraction, or else Chan would not need to wait long for his answer.

The episode began, and you watched, clamping your lips together as you felt the man shuffle closer to you, one hand sprawled on the top of the couch with his other hand idly surfing on his laptop. You rooted your eyes to the screen, finding yourself engulfed in 1920s England, trying to forget that your best friend left no space between you two.

Managing to somehow distract yourself from the lack of distance, you even began to relax, swooning softly of the gangster’s mannerisms towards his love interests, their intimate dancing in her bedroom. It was touching, and you even let yourself lean into your friend, who, too, glanced every now and then, a little smile upon his face.

Everything was fine and dandy until the characters started to kiss.

Now, there was nothing wrong with kissing. You were a hopeless romantic, and adored to see the actions of love on screen, the final breaking of barriers between two characters.

The problem was, the kissing did not seem to end there. The bigger problem was that this lust on screen made you all the more aware of your best friend beside you.

You froze, watching with no small amount of confused shock as the characters increased their desires, unbuttoning their clothes, discarding them as their lips moved against each other’s. Your eyes widened at the nudity, once never a bother but suddenly extremely embarrassing, as they collided, bare chest to bare chest.

The matters did not help at all when you sensed the increased beating of Chan’s heart, almost as loud as the instruments harmonising in the background. His searching on his laptop had ceased, as frozen as you were as his eyes refused to look away to the man and woman making love.  

It was too much. You had seen much worse scenes in your life before, but never had one made you so hot and bothered. Of course you knew why, though. Of course you knew, when the man you laid your head upon was breathing harder than you do when you walk up a flight of stairs. 

You did not waste a minute longer as you pointed the remote to the TV, and switched the screen off. Completely black, void of further lust radiating through the glass. 

A shuddered breath escaped Chan. “Well...double damn.”

You did not answer back. Only distanced yourself on the sofa, his fingers on the couch brushing against the back of your head. His touch may have been the last thing you needed then.

But that was not true. Seeing that sex scene, all glorified and affectionate, had you craving his touch. Your eyes could not bear to meet him, but his presence was suffocating enough. God, if you did not leave that couch now, you would dare to do something quite unimaginable.

Chan did not seem to move either. Your presence, too, had him nearly choking out a pained sob. Anymore time spent, and he would have another problem erecting soon.

At last, when a few minutes seemed like hours, you felt your friend stir. You were surprised to be devastated at the prospect of him leaving.

You were further shocked when, as Chan mustered all the strength in himself to get off the couch, he was stopped by your hand encircling his wrist. 

Whirling his head at your direction, his eyes widened. He was met with your own aghast ones, as your hand tugged him back to the couch.

You did not let go of his wrist as you whispered the words you never thought would have left your mouth that night.

“Let’s do it, Chan.”

His hand went limp in your hold.

For a second you thought he died under your grasp, but the way he parted his mouth went against your judgement. Perhaps you had sent his living soul flying out of his body, but you could not blame him — you did not feel at all like yourself just then.

“I wanna do it,” you murmured, refusing to let go. 

Chan’s eyes darted to the tight hold upon his wrist, and then to you once more. He opened his mouth, closing it straight after as he glanced away.

With a heavy sigh, he looked to you once more, an abundance of emotions swirling in his usually mischievous, soft eyes.

“Are you sure, ____?” He leaned a little closer, causing your heart to malfunction for a second. “You don’t have to think about it now—”

“Well, it’s all I can think about,” you cut him off, eyes never leaving him, despite the reddening of your cheeks. “And I want to do it.

“Like I said, Chan.” You shuffled a little closer, and your knees brushed against his. “I am deprived of pleasure.”

The man blinked once, twice, taking your declaration all in. He had to tell himself that this was not a dream, but a very much a fortunate reality, and that you were asking him of something he had been wanting to give you for a very long time.

There it was. Something he wasn’t quite ready to admit. You wanting your desires met by him was so much more than enough.

Dreaming still, he slithered one hand around your waist, almost like second nature as the other found refuge upon your face. His fingers were tender, softly caressing your cheeks as his eyes beheld you in a way he had never before..

This change of sight had you unable to look away from him.

“If you feel uncomfortable with all this…” he swept away a stray curl. “I will stop. That’ll be the end of it.”

You nodded, finding solace within his eyes. “I know.”

But there was no discomfort. Rather an impatient welcome, a growing urge for your needs met. Promises fulfilled. 

When you sensed him lean closer, so shy and yet so determined, hands still holding you, those vows were sure to be carried out.

You found out in the best way possible — the second when Chan brushed his lips against yours. 

His touch had you flying out your skin; well, not really, but it sure felt as such, when his mouth moulded with yours, a confirmation that he was strangely perfect for your own two lips, that he was meant to embed himself upon your mouth. 

You closed your eyes, heart climbing up your chest as your hands skimmed around his neck. Chan began his movements, and you were so unaccustomed to the actions that you could not help but be led by his kiss. The man had a way of making you listen to his every order, vocalised or not. 

The kiss was so...unreal. It was all that rang in your mind, over and over as the man took his time; he carried out a sensual rhythm upon your lips, not only to avoid overwhelming you, but to fully take in his situation — that he was kissing you, and no other girl who he had never dreamed of. 

He had all the time in the world for this.

The hand upon your waist gripped onto you a little harder, nails skirting around the hem of your shirt. His tongue teased you now, running along for entrance, to delve inside and drink in your every essence. Your mouth practically begged the man to prowl inside, opening up to him completely, a signal of full trust. 

You wanted this as much as he did. 

His elated rush was expressed through his tongue, when it slithered inside your mouth. Butterflies erupted in your body at the way he swirled it along with yours, almost playing with your tongue as if you both did. Of course, this is slightly different, because your gimmicks with Chan never had you salivating at the mouth. Nor feeling like you’re about to leak into your clothes from his touches.

Which really was the situation you ended up in; Chan, his hand now skimming under your shirt, revelling the skin of your abdomen, warming beneath his touch. The hand, once upon your face, had latched upon your locks, while you ran your fingers through his own velvety hair, nearly undoing yourself over the soft feel. 

Just when you thought he was going in for more, he broke away, hands still upon you — your breathing was ragged, the man in front of you panting slightly as well. His eyes, with no small amount of surprise, seemed a little feverish, whether that be from a random cold he contracted during the minutes he kissed you, or…

Or, as you found yourself biting your lip, he took an intoxicated toll over you, and how exquisite it was to drive his tongue in your mouth.

“Better than Rapunzel?” He whispered, so close his breath fanned your lips, spit-slick thanks to him. 

You made sure he was aware of your fingers threading in his locks, eliciting a low murmur. “Rapunzel better not leave the tower again.”

Chuckling, he wasted no time before he was upon you again, an invisible leash on him threatening to snap. He drove the shirt higher, skirting up your sides until he broke away from you for a mere second before peeling the shirt off of you and tossing it beside him.

Heaving, the sight of you in a bra was making the leash all the more tight, hands never leaving your sides as he latched onto your neck. Leaving open-mouthed kisses, down and down until his lips trailed past your collarbone, you let the moans leave your mouth, heightened and quick and unexpected. Suddenly he descended on you, kneeeling on the floor with hands following suit. 

Pleasure. You were oozing with pleasure as you hurried for the hems of his black hoodie, needing to have it off and run your hands on the expanse of his chest. Chan, a little preoccupied, did not realise your demands until you whined out your request.

“Chan—!” you gasped out as his lips left your belly, fingers upon the buttons of your trousers. “Hoodie, I need it off!”

The man only continued with his task, taking the zip down. “Up,” he rushed out, gesturing with his hand.

Dazed, you replied with a confused murmur, only understanding the need to take his stupid hoodie off.

He looked up from his endeavours, and the sight of him hovering between your legs nearly undid you. “I mean your hips, baby, put them up.” He grabbed onto the sides of your jeans. “I wanna take this off.”

Gulping, you raised your hips, giving Chan ease to pull your jeans, all the way down until your legs were bare, save for the soiled underwear which he instantly landed his eyes on. 

His mouth slipped out an uneasy fuck, which was just the right way to have you leaking even further. “Chan, come on,” you hurried, seething at the throbbing. 

His hands pushed you back on the couch, travelling down until they caressed the back of your knees. Pulling you closer from there, he leaned in until he was a few inches away from your moistened cunt, hurting more the longer he made you wait.

It wasn’t his fault, really. He still felt as if he’s living a dream he did not deserve. 

Fingers drumming against the back of your knees, the man blew a little upon your folds, and you let out a strained hiss at the soft breeze. This hypersensitivity was going to be your undoing, but even the smallest of actions brought you such thrill.

“I’m about to spoil you good, ____,” he whispered, and before you could reply, he descended.

The first kitty lick along the surface had you in shock.

Tendrils of pleasure gushed inside you, lurking all over your body as Chan swiped his tongue along the outside of your cunt, teasing, shying away, awaiting your reaction. You answered him with an indecipherable noise, a sound which had never escaped you before.

Maybe because no one had ever played with your cunt like this.

You truly had wasted your time with Hyunjin — this man, tasting your arousal, let out a satisfied hum, and when he dug deeper with his tongue, spreading your legs further, the moans you let escape were, for the first time, absolutely real. No acting, no bullshit.

Just like your best friend promised.

“Chan—!” You stuttered out, when he began circling your clit. “God, just like that!” You encouraged further, hips shaking at the way he made a mess of you. 

In response his hands left your legs, pressing them upon your hips. To your horror he paused his actions, peering up from your legs. 

The slick shining upon his lips could well have made you cum on his face right then and there. “I need you to stay still, baby,” he said, his hands on your hips keeping you in place, as his eyes did the same. “So I can do this properly.

“I don’t want you getting half-assed pleasure, okay?”

His soft demands, his calm explanations brought you in a further state of frenzy. You could not nod faster, chuckling emitting from him as his hands travelled down once more. 

“Good girl.”

And his mouth was upon your cunt again, this time the leash finally snapping as his tongue hardened against the seams. Your moans could have been heard in the hallways, but you didn’t particularly care when Chan, in the midst of his ravenous lapping, introduced the prospect of his fingers, caressing your dripping folds, swiping them over around the edges.

You didn’t know what to do — your hands scrambled to fist the fabric of the couch, laying back against the pillows. The hold grew tighter when your best friend slid his middle finger inside of you.

The journey may have been slow, but that was what made it all the more delightful. Feeling it go deeper and deeper had a particularly loud groan flying out of you, but the rhythm he adopted, pulling it out, but then diving it back again without leaving your cunt, had you delirious. 

A once foreign, unimaginable feeling you never thought you’d experience, was back inside — the heavy sensation deep within your gut, like a dull ache which grew more known the harder Chan worked between your legs. The feeling you had only ever experienced when you imagined Donghyuck instead of your ex-boyfriend in this similar situation. 

Fuck, there it is, you thought. The feeling of your incoming orgasm.

And it was not going to go if this man worked harder than the devil tonight.

“Chan—fuck—” you got cut off when he increased the speed of his finger inside of you. “I-I’m close.”

Never ceasing his finger, he looked up at you, hooded eyes welcoming you despite the tenderness on his face. “You’re doing so good, ____. So fucking good for me,” he cooed, melting your heart despite the situation. 

This time, he accompanied his fingering with a second digit, stretching out your walls and working harmoniously together in making you submit to him. Already you felt as if he’d filled you up, and the actions of his digits practically scissoring inside of you had every muscle in your body readying for release.

He dove back in, merciless to your clit, and all this work, everything at once, was so much that when you cried out, your release had to follow through. You couldn’t control yourself as you let your cum escape, staining the couch and the floor — most importantly, how most of it landed in Chan’s mouth. 

Breathing unevenly, and louder than you ever thought possible, you closed your eyes, slumping further into the couch. You sensed an emptiness inside you, and figured Chan had taken out his fingers. Opening your eyes, you saw him close your legs together, propping his head upon your lap, hands supporting his chin. He looked up at you, licking his lips free of your residue.

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

The man smiled at you. “Satisfied?” he asked, fingers caressing your skin. 

Oh, of course you were. Damn it, you were more than satisfied — you were positively elated. If he had managed to make you cum with his fingers and tongue alone, imagine what he could have done with his dick.

You blinked. 

Imagine what he could have done with his dick.

“____?”

Perking up, you looked to the man kneeling before you still, anticipation brimming in his stature. “Please tell me you didn’t fake it.”

Embarrassment engulfed your body at the idea. “Chan, if you really think I faked all of that then I deserve an Oscar.”

Pride washed over his features. “Good.”

You then watched him slowly get up, climbing over you, hands skirting up your figure till he captured your face in his hands and pressed his lips against yours. You had enough strength to kiss him back, but failed to exceed him when he began nibbling upon the swell of your lip, making you revert to stage one of your growing need all over again.

Breaking away, you glanced up at him, holding onto his hoodie. “I want...more.”

The man stilled his actions, hands going limp upon your skin. You had about three seconds of panicking as you tugged on his clothes, whispering, “Wait, Chan, it’s okay if—”

But suddenly, his hands left your face, and the panic increased with you being lifted into the air, his hold under your knees and back as he brought you close to his chest. 

His eyes upon you were a hazard to your well-being. “God, ____, you could really ruin me.”

Your flustered nature was interrupted by Chan rushing to his bedroom, kicking the door open with his feet and pressing quick kisses upon your mouth, your cheeks, all over your face as you giggled out in reaction, arms locked around him.

His room was the same as his attire, black on black on even more black, save for a few gold corners and grey instruments settled in the far end of the space. His bed, however, was vast and comfortable, a place you have slept in many a time when late night recording sessions turned into sleepovers.

Gently, he laid you down on his bed, feeling the cool sting of the night air on your cunt, making you shiver. Your bra was useless in keeping you warm, but when Chan began to take off his hoodie, shirt dragging out along with it, you suddenly began to feel a lot hotter.

Discarding the clothes, you were rewarded with the image of shirtless Chan, slightly disheveled due to his endeavours between your legs. His smile revealed a hint of arrogance as he acknowledged your blatant staring, slowly taking off his sweatpants. 

“Careful, baby, or you’ll cum right there,” he mused, noticing the way your legs shivered in ecstasy. He dumped his clothes along with the others, catching sight of his Calvins barely containing his erection.

You felt the mattress press down as he prowled to you upon the bed, the more chaos erupting in your gut the further he came closer. You could barely contain yourself when he hovered over you, lips mere inches from yours. A powerful force within you halted your very breath — you knew, though, that at this particular moment, your entire soul rested in the hands of this man, looking at you through long lashes. 

He enveloped your lips, grinding his clothed erection against your cunt, drinking in your whines, your silent pleas of replacing it with the real deal. He smirked against your mouth, opening the seams as his one hand grabbed onto yours, leading it to the waistband of your boxers. 

Your fingers fumbled to take peel down the fabric, Chan parting from your lips to take it off entirely. His cock sprang free, and you let out a god-awful, shrill-like noise at the way it stood, red and angry and so very fucking big. 

“Fuck me,” you slipped out in a breath, earning a chuckle from him. 

“I very much plan to,” he had the nerve to reply, you wanting very much to slap his shit-eating grin off of him. Or perhaps kiss it till your breath was lost. 

Embarrassed, you tried to look away, but his fingers gripped your chin, leading your eyes to his. Other hand holding onto your hip, he gently positioned himself between your legs, precum already staining your folds. Breathing stunted, your stare reflected subservience, a request to bury his dick inside you already.

He read your every plea. 

Pressing his forehead against yours, he let out a shuddered breath before beginning the final descent.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Chan slid his cock inside — your mouth parted from the transition, at the tightening sensation as he kept going, burying those inches until your eyes were as wide as saucers, unable to look away from him. You dared not move, fear of snapping more a reality in your head than some far-fetched delusion.

Dragging his stare from your slit to your face, he caressed your cheek, offering you a small smile.

“Don’t be quiet, okay?” he asked, hand on your hip like iron. 

Nodding, it was all the signal he needed.

Just as gradually, he began to slide out, and, with his words in mind, you let yourself be shameless. The rhythm of his hips, the pain-stakingly tempered movement, made you whine profusely, and when the man slithered inside once more, moaning lewdly was your only reaction. It was all your brain could think of, when his cock was the sole deity which mattered in this moment.

His pace began to fasten, though, grunting erratically as his grip on you tightened. Your cunt was taking a toll, your second orgasm of the night a great possibility as you felt it inside you, as tangible as the dick being pushed and pulled out into you. 

“F-faster!” you wailed out, and God bless Chan, for he obliged you completely, increasing his rhythm, practically abusing your slit with the way he fucked into you. Tears pricked the corner of your eyes, and you let them fall, for there was no hiding your emotions with this man.

Your best friend could see right through you anyway. 

Chan’s strength seemed unhuman as he thrusted his cock into you faster and faster, and you knew if he did not stop then you would cum all over for the second time. The very image had you on the edge of your sanity.

When his cock hit your g-spot you really believed yourself hitting seventh heaven of delight. White spots blurred your vision, tears now your beloved companion as they trailed down your cheeks. “I’m c-close, fuck—” you tried to voice, but were cut off when slid out once more, tip never leaving your folds. 

His hair stuck to his forehead, beads of sweat peppered on his face as he crushed you with his lips, relishing your whines. His tongue befriended yours, and the swirling of your muscles with each other had brought a new form of high bubbling within you. 

You moaned his name onto his lips, hands sliding around his neck, pulling you as close as physically possible. This was it. You could not wait any longer. You wanted your undoing, and you wanted it now, in these sheets, within his arms, within his hypnotic presence. 

It was incredibly fortunate that Bang Chan could read you like the back of his hand.  

Parting from your mouth, he kissed a sloppy trail all the way to your ear, lips grazing against the lobe. 

“Go on, then,” he purred, leaving a small kiss to your skin. “Cum for me.”

His words were all you needed before you let yourself go, crying out as release poured from the tight spaces your cunt offered, and onto the sheets below. You wheezed in a few breaths, tired gasps gripping your body.

Chan, within the second, pulled out, just in time for him to let out a pained growl as he came onto his bedsheets. Some of the fluids sullied your legs, but seemed the perfect time as he collapsed right beside you, breathing as heavily as you were. 

You and Chan were the only noise in the room — however, if one could translate emotions into sound, that would be an entirely different matter. 

At least for you. You could barely contain your elation.

An emptiness may be present inside of you, but it was now replaced with a full heart. Fuck, you could not believe you had finally been given pleasure, such unadulterated satisfaction that you wondered whether it truly occurred, or was just another fantasy — this time with Chan’s face plastered rather than your infatuation of the month.

Sensing the said-man move, you turned to your side, smiling to see his stare fixated on you. Shifting closer, he curled a stray lock from your face behind your ear. “How’re you feeling?” he asked gently, hand on your face still.

You laid your head against your arm. “I am so pissed I didn’t break up with Hyunjin sooner.”

Laughing, his fingers trailed downward, sketching onto your collarbone. “You…” he paused, biting his lip with what you saw, surprisingly, as apprehension. “You really liked it?” 

Your eyes darted to the surroundings, smirk spreading across your lips. “I mean, I am an insanely good actress...”

His shock horror had you spluttering into laughter. When he tried to turn his back to you and sulk, you held onto his arm, keeping him in place. “Oh, stop! You know I’m joking, you big oaf.”

Pouting, he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close. “You better be,” he muttered, earning further giggles from his truly. The laughter was replaced with your yawning, which Chan instantly picked up on. “Hey, ____, you should sleep.” He began stroking your hair. “You’re really tired.”

You tried to object, but your intended groans become more deep yawns, proving his point. He passed his fingers over your eyelids, fluttering them close. “I’m not hearing anything else!”

Stinging out your tongue in what you hoped was at his direction, you grudgingly obliged. “Fine.”

You felt him sigh upon your face. “Goodnight, baby.”

“Goodnight, Hyuck.” 

“Nevermind, I hope you have a terrible sleep.”

With your last round of exhausted laughter, you let yourself fall into oblivion, safe in your best friend’s arms. 

YOU WOKE UP WITH CHAN ALREADY GONE.

It was not such a huge disappointment. The man had warned you before that he had to leave early to meet up with his supervisor. In all honesty, maybe it was good he was not there, next to you in his sheets. 

Your hands gripped those very sheets, raising them right under your chin as you looked up to the ceiling, watching the dried swirls of black paint overlapping each other.

“Oh my God.”

Indeed. Here you were, in your best friend’s bed, basking in his scent, in his world. Of course, you always seemed to smell of him, considering you both never seemed to let go of each other, but last night was different.

Obviously, because Bang Chan had never rocked your shit before. 

Your legs began to tingle at the thought. Even the mere memory had you feeling a mysterious sensation all over your body, reminders of the places Chan had looked, touched, tasted. God, you did not think, did not let yourself think further or you’d be calling that man this second.

You knew you had to get up at some point — you had some recording to do today, and more assignments to hand in. You had tasks, obligations to take care of. Unfortunately, the warmth of your best friend’s bed was much too enticing for you to submit to the requests of reality, and so you let yourself lay there for moments longer, in hope you can recreate the scene in your head once more.

There was no lie about this. Bang Chan knew how to fuck you into another dimension. 

Just when you were about to dream into last night, your phone vibrated harshly against the bedside table. Curious, you stretched out your hand, grabbing the object and checking who so rudely disturbed your shameless manifesting.

CHRIS THE PISS: 

just stopped by the medical room,,, want me to get a wheelchair?

CHRIS THE PISS:

cause im sure asf u can’t walk rn 

You rolled your eyes until it hurt. Stupid prick.

YOU:

i haven’t gotten out of bed actually 

CHRIS THE PISS:

oh damn

CHRIS THE PISS:

i PARALYSED u??

CHRIS THE PISS:

why am i so powerful 

“This asshole,” you muttered. 

YOU:

STFUU COCKY MF

CHRIS THE PISS: 

It’s ok you’ll cute in a wheelchair

YOU:

?!?!?!?!!?!

CHRIS THE PISS:

but tell me 

CHRIS THE PISS:

how good was it

This had you pausing. 

CHRIS THE PISS:

outta ten

Now here was a rating you couldn’t bring yourself to confess.

All you wanted to do was give him a solid ten — the man finally offered you a better view of sex and how it can be appreciated, and the way he guided you through it was more than just adequate.

But the thing was, you and Chan hadn’t ever given each other 10/10s.

A perfect score was a rarity in your dynamic; possibly a rating never revealed before because you and Chan had promised each other never to exaggerate on this system. The only time you had ever used the solid ten was when he made you his first ever song at the tender age of nine. At the time, it was a terrible tune, with beats all over the damn place with no form of rhythm, but because he made it especially for you, you voiced your true opinion and rated him the perfect score.

Again, the situation here was different.

So, instead of the truth, you resorted to irritation. 

YOU:

2/10 :)

You waited for his text.

However, you did not receive it.

Only the shrill ringtone of your phone, snapping you further into consciousness. 

Groaning, you swiped right onto the screen, pressing the speaker button.

“Now I know you’re lying!”

Laughing, you propped the phone beside you on the bed, upon the place where Chan would have been. “You got a big ego there, hun.”

“That may be true, but my cock is bigger, so I still win.”

You were glad he was not here — the man would have sensed your embarrassment in an instant. 

It was worse because he was not lying. “Now tell me, Pinocchio,” he continued, voice interrupting as the noise of the students around him came through the receiver. “Out of ten.”

“I already messaged it to you, buddy,” you said impassively, or at least you tried. “A solid two would suffice.”

God, you could almost feel your nose growing.

Perhaps he felt it too, for he answered, with no small amount of pride, “I’m gonna pretend I fucked you so good you forgot how to think properly.”

You could not help gulping, raising the sheets over you. It wasn’t exactly hard on boning, but even so...you really thought for a second you’d lose all feeling in your legs last night.

“Shut up, Chan.”

“Shut up, Chan,” he parroted, which had you threatening to hang up. “Don’t think I’ve let you go on this subject.”

“Try me, buddy,” you jeered.

“And for Christ’s sake, stop calling me ‘buddy’,” he demanded. “Or else I’m pulling a Hyunjin.”

“A Hyunjin?”

“Yeah, a Hyunjin.” You heard the sound of horns blaring at the end of his call. “Ruining your sex life.”

That nearly made you freak. “Damn, I won’t say it again, Christopher Bang, musical name Bang Chan, nicknamed Chris the Piss—”

You heard his chuckling through the phone. “All that for my dick. I must have changed your life, ____.”

Heating up from his stupid comments, you grabbed the phone from the table. “I’ll see you in the studios, asshole.”

His smugness ran rich in his voice. “Buh-bye, baby.”

The minute the call ended, you sighed heavily, clutching the phone to your chest.

He did change your life.

Not necessarily your entire life, but certainly a huge aspect of it. A small part of you was horrified at how easily he shifted your daily balance, making you ponder over him more often, with much more intensity than before. Were you a sex maniac? Were you so deprived of being touched that one night of fun had you begging like a woman starved?

“Whatever,” you groaned, swinging your legs to the side of the bed, and upon the carpet. “Fuck Chan.”

Hopefully tonight.

FUCKING AROUND WITH CHAN MIGHT HONESTLY BE THE BEST DECISION YOU HAVE EVER MADE IN A LONG, LONG TIME.

And you weren’t the one to make good decisions. You get up an hour before the afternoons, drink Pepsi Max to compensate for your lack of water drinkage, and worst of all, you would gladly sell your body for Colin Firth, especially if he dressed himself up as Mr. Darcy at his age. Whatever setbacks you possessed, you knew that this, at least, was a step in the right direction.

Bang Chan may have been as big a loser as you were, but the man made you feel like a powerful entity. Hell, in all the state, with the way he made you act.

Never before had you become so daring — libraries, which were once your place of study, became a rendezvous for his slender fingers inside your cunt. The living room had become a breeding ground, and even your shower was stained of your promiscuity. There was no place left where you and Chan hadn’t done something scandalous, and you wondered, with no small amount of excitement, on how this new side of your friendship with him would progress. 

These thoughts accompanied you as you walked to your destination. It was not far off as you entered campus, and smiled at the few students who passed by.

Soon, you found yourself in the music department, and walked through the familiar halls, littered with posters of different artists and singers in their peak careers. A few trophies were boasted of behind a glass screen, but the surroundings all became irrelevant when you approached your designated music rooms.

Expecting Chan to be inside, headphones adorned, you did not bother knocking, strolling straight into the room. However, you stopped completely when a giant, hoodie-clothed back did not greet you.

Instead, it was a tinier hoodie-clothed back, faded yellow over the trademark black. Although not your best friend, you instantly recognised the alternative, and smiled.

“Jisung!”

The boy did not seem to hear, for he kept bobbing his head, no doubt trying out beats. 

You tiptoed slpwly until you stood right behind him. Then, in a flash, you snapped your hands upon his shoulders.

“Boo!”

A shrill, terrified yell erupted, chair being swivelled suddenly as the back hit against the controls. You took a step back out of shock too, a choked giggle escaping when you beheld the face of Han Probably-shit-his-pants-Jisung. 

“Oh my fucking God,” he rasped out, hand on his chest. He then locked eyes with you, and suddenly his quivering mouth melted into a smile of relief. “Ah, ____!”

“The one and only.” You sat down on the neighbouring chair. “Sorry if I made you shit your pants. It was fully attended.”

“Stop,” he insisted, taking off his headphones and scooting a little closer to you. “These are new jeans as well.”

“Not my fault if you’re a pussy,” you chanted, picking up the headphones, settling them upon your ears. “Can I listen?”

“Of course!” Jisung pressed a few keys on his laptop, and the music began. 

Your eyes widened in surprise to hear pleasant, almost lo-fi background before his voice flooded in, comforting you with his soft lilt and meaningful lyrics. On instinct your head bobbed along to the rhythm of the beat, smiling at the wordplay and the rising vocals.

“Jisung, this is really good!” you exclaimed. The boy waved off the compliment, but you instantly saw his face reddening. “Oh, stop it, you know that you’re one of the best out here.”

If you thought he couldn’t get more flustered, he proved you incredibly wrong. “Don’t say that,” he shrilled, propping his feet up on the chair and hugging his legs tightly. When he saw the look on your face, though, he smiled, teeth and all. “Thank you, ____. It means a lot coming from you.”

“Oh, I’m no musical genius,” you said, pressing the play button to hear his music. “Just a motherfucker who can appreciate a song of the year when she hears one.”

Jisung nearly passed out from your compliment, but you did not take it much into account as you focused all your attention on the piece. It was an undoubted fact that Han Jisung was an extremely talented dude. You already knew you could never compete with him, but he was certainly up to Chan’s level of musical expertise. With all this talent brimming around you, you made a mental note never to make more gifted friends in the future. 

Once the song ended, you took off the headphones, propping them gently upon the table. “I think you’ve inspired me to do some actual work.” 

The boy was still smiling as he reached his hand out, planting it upon your own on the table. “Well, I’m honoured to be your inspiration.” His eyes reached yours, and you were engulfed with his warmth. “The feeling is more than mutual.”

You offered him a grin, and were about to say something when the door opened.

Turning, you were welcomed by Chan’s dark figure at the studio entrance, holding two cups of coffee. Despite his black attire, you found yourself admiring a little too brazenly the bare face he never exposed in public, the beanie hiding his curls, and the tick in his jaw, which heightened further when he took in the scene.

The actions were quick — the darting of his eyes as they started on you, then travelled to your hand, engulfed with another’s. He raised them to the man guilty of the touch, and found himself staring at Jisung, beaming not only from you anymore, but at the arrival of his friend.

The joy was not returned. 

“Chan!” Jisung greeted, letting go of your hand innocently as he ushered your best friend over. 

He nodded in return, gaze back to you as he walked, a little too slowly, to the two of you. He put the two beverages upon the table next to the keyboards. “I didn’t know you were in as well,” he said. After a pause, he added, “I would have gotten another coffee.”

“Nah, it’s okay,” he assured him, even though it did not look like he needed any reassurances. 

Catching onto Chan’s attitude, you slid your coffee to the boy beside you. “I don’t want any right now. You take it.”

You took note of the pursed lips, and ignored it as Jisung widened his eyes. “No, no, it’s okay—”

“Ji, I insist,” you pestered him, driving the cup within his grasp. “You look so tired.”

He offered you a lovely smile before taking the beverage. “Thank you.”

Chan, watching this little conversation, had him clamping his lips together, possibly to not say something stupid. It was a little habit of his, thankfully in action. He slid the other cup to you. “You can have mine.”

You looked up at him. “I’m good, buddy.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Share.”

You rolled your own, taking a sip of the coffee, and thanked yourself for not being petty enough to refuse him. “Fine.” 

Jisung swivelled his chair so he faced Chan, fingers upon his laptop. “Do you wanna listen to the demo?” He grabbed the headphones, holding it out to him. “I’m nearly done with it.”

“You can send it to me later,” was his curt answer, as he took the cup from you and drank. 

You looked at him in exasperation, but the boy nodded in satisfaction, picking his bag off the floor. “That’s chill!” he said, heaving off the chair. “I got all the time, so don’t worry too much about it.”

He then turned to the two of you as he strolled to the door. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you both something.”

“Spit it out, then,” Chan jeered, which had you glaring at him. What the fuck was his problem?

Jisung did not catch on, continuing. “So, later this week, Changbin and I are throwing a party, and I was hoping you both would like to come.”

You perked up at that piece of information. “That’s something I like to hear!” Snatching the coffee cup from your friend, you purposefully took a huge gulp. “Any specific date?”

“I was hoping Friday night.” A small sip of his drink. “We just wanted to have some fun after a difficult week, dissertations and all.” His gaze never faltered from yours. “You in?”

Chan, noticing, settled in the space previously taken, and raised a hand in objection. “Sorry, Ji. ____ and I always do something Friday night. Gotta uphold the tradition.” 

You turned to face him, a brow raised. He wasn’t wrong, in all honesty. But why did he mention it now?

Jisung, too, was a little curious. “Oh?” He fixed the strap of his bag. “I won’t get in the way, then.”

He turned, and you made to open your mouth only to have Chan press a finger to your lips. His brows were furrowed, which you matched until he left the finger as the boy looked back once more. 

“I’ll see you around, guys!” he exclaimed, eyes sliding to you before opening the door, and leaving the studio.

After a few seconds of silence, you faced your friend, who had the audacity to sigh in relief. “What the fuck was that?”

The man shrugged. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Yes you do!” you finished the last of the coffee, throwing the empty cup in the bin nearby. “Why were you being such a dick to Jisung?”

“No I wasn’t,” he only said. “I was being the perfect gentleman.”

“Stop it, man!” You couldn’t believe his stupidity in the situation. “He was being so lovely, asking for your opinion on his music, inviting us to his party and shit. Why were you being so mean?” 

Chan only shook his head, turning away from you as he made to put his headphones on. You, on the other hand, were not going to be satisfied with silence, and grabbed his arm, wrenching him toward you. “Chan?!”

He turned to look at you, and you hitched in a breath — you had never really pondered over your friend’s angered face, nor really drank in his heightened features before. However, in this moment in time, with his eyes darkened, bare face twisted, frizzy morning curls all over the place, you had to stop yourself from the butterflies fluttering downwards. You’re supposed to be mad, not horny.

Your hand upon his arm — his tensed bicep, specifically — seemed almost feeble now. Still, you were glad it was on there, if only to feel his muscle bulge.

Chan studied you and your dazing, and made you jump when he guttered. “What?”

Instantly getting back to the situation, you cursed yourself silently for letting your desires try to take the reins. “I said,” you continued, trying your hardest not to be fazed by his eyes, “Why are you being such a massive prick to Ji?”

He cocked his head slightly, and if he leaned any further his lips would brush against yours. “I’m being a massive prick, ____, because he really fucking likes you.”

You felt hands upon your waist, tugging you off your seat. With a yelp you found yourself upon the man’s lap, hands encircling you fully.

Even though you looked down at him, his stare had you shaking. “And that really fucking pisses me off.”

You couldn’t suppress a shudder, an action which had not gone unnoticed. A smile ghosting his face, he craned his neck upwards, catching your lips and rendering you completely at his mercy. Your fingers went straight in his morning curls, carding through the locks as he captured your bottom lip in his, sucking on it to the point a whine escaped you, helpless and shameful. 

He left a trail of heated kisses down your throat, fingers skirting underneath your cardigan, your shirt, and savouring the skin. His mouth landed on a particular part, grazing his teeth against it as he softly nipped at the skin. Your breath quivered at each flushed kiss he branded upon you, but when his free hand began undoing the top buttons of your shirt, you finally called out his name.

“Chan!” you gasped out, shivering at the lovebites stinging your throat. It did not seem like the man would stop, unbuttoning your shirt just so he could glimpse the sliver of your lacy bra, humming with satisfaction. “Chan, w-wait!”

He paused his actions, tilting his head upwards in irritation. “Do you mind?” he asked, pouting too cutely for his words.

“Yes, I do,” you answered, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Why are you so mad, buddy?”

A harsh scoff was your reply. “Well, first of all, because you never stop calling me that.” 

You pinched the back of his neck, but when he pursed his lips, you leaned in, pressing your forehead against his. “Chan, you’re overreacting. He’s just a motherfucker trying to gain your approval.”

“I think it’s more your approval,” he countered, nuzzling his head against your shoulder. “With the way the asshole can’t keep his name out of your mouth. God! And the way he held your hand? Like you were his one and only?!”

“Jealousy isn’t a cute look on you, hun,” you mused, but in reality, you were lying through your teeth. His jealousy was like fuel to your turned on fire.

“Permission to punch him in the face?” 

“You might have to put a hold to that.” 

“Fuck.”

Raising his head, his agitation grew in his eyes as you beheld him. “He just...goddammit, he just makes me so angry at times.”

You played with his curls. “How angry?”

He held onto you tighter. “9/10.”

That certainly made you do a double take. 

9/10. A rare rating, you noticed with quite some surprise. It did reflect the fury which Jisung unintentionally ignited, but you did not realise how much it truly affected him. The two had always been friends, as far as you were concerned, but you had to admit that Chan never really felt as easy with him as he did with you.

Of course, because you were his closest friend.

“I know,” he said then, snapping you out of your thoughts. “It’s...unreasonable...but I don’t care. I really don’t give a shit.”

Clamping your lips together, you watched him look away, swaying you back and forth upon his lap. Well, you couldn’t have a dear friend sulking away when you knew Jisung meant nothing and less to you.

Suddenly, a very pleasing idea came to mind. 

“Chan,” you murmured, fingernails grazing against his neck.

 Sensing goosebumps form there, you were met with his undecipherable gaze. “Yeah?”

You brushed a chaste kiss to his forehead. “How about,” you began, trailing down to his nose, “I help…” you carried on, another kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Soothe your irritation?”

Although completely compliant to your touches, he grumbled, “The only way you can do that if you consent to me giving Jisung a broken nose.”

“Hmmm…well...” you peppered another kiss, and felt his hands wander lazily once again. “This is a very close second.”

Catching the implications dwelling in your gaze, you could have sworn the man’s breathing halted. His tongue swept along his teeth, and you had a dire wish to replicate that action with your own tongue.

“Come here, then,” he guttered.

The lower octave had you nearly squealing as you pressed your lips fully onto his, giggling when he responded with twice more ardency, the desperation lurking beneath his physique. He pried your mouth open with his tongue, swirling it along with yours as he pressed your body completely against his, refusing to let you go. 

On instinct you grinded against him, sensing the outline of his boner beneath you with no small amount of excitement. He groaned into your mouth at the friction, digging his fingers into your skin.

It was a dire shame you had to break away from the kiss, catching his disappointment. “Tease,” you heard him mumble, which had you pecking his lips quickly before sliding your own down his neck, leaving his skin altogether.

Slumping downward, you kneeled before Chan as he spread his legs before you, struggling down his black trousers till he revealed the angry outline of his erection underneath his dark boxers. You noticed, with pride, how the top of the fabric was stained with arousal. 

“I think your dick is angrier than you around Jisung right now,” you said, failing to contain your amusement. 

Chan’s eyes promised murder. “I’m so glad my cock will shut your stupid mouth up,” he jeered. 

Thank God you were kneeling, cause that comment alone would have made you fall.

Shuffling closer, you raised your hand to his boxers, feeling his clothed length between your fingers. The touch had your friend growling much too loud, a reaction you enjoyed thoroughly. 

“How about a little less teasing,” he seethed, gripping onto the arms of his chair, “And a little more sucking, baby?” 

Baby. You didn’t know why now, of all times, it struck a deep chord within you. His command had you reaching for the waistband, pulling his boxers down until his cock sprang free. 

The image had you remembering your Lord and Saviour. 

You don’t know why you kept forgetting how insanely big Chan’s cock really was. Its length was inside of you on almost a daily basis, so maybe all this foolery had finally gotten to your head. Observing it now, hard and veiny as it curved against his stomach, the only reaction you could offer was your mouth breaking its seams. 

“Staring at it won’t be enough, ____.”

Gulping, you planted one hand upon his leg, the other wrapping around the shaft. Even the slightest contact had the man hissing, making you smirk at his helplessness. Slightly gurgling, you spat on the head, lubing his member with your fingers, and then you began.

A string of groans escaped him as you commenced, a slow rhythm of pumping his cock as your hand moved up and down. The repetition was constant, neverending as Chan’s grip on his chair threatened to snap the plastic, but you dared not slow down. You knew this was not how he gained his satisfaction — he needed a perfect graduality, a refined art-like stroke or else he’d lose his high. Fortunate for him, though, you never let him down.

You increased your pumping, sensing him containing his moans. You could feel him holding back, but that didn’t stop you at all. In fact, that only had you progressing to the next step, an action that would have him screaming your name.

Shifting even closer, you spread his legs further, Chan’s eyes rooted to you as you directed the tip to your mouth. Letting your tongue free, you swept it along the shaft, and sure enough, an obscenely loud moan emitted from his truly. Chuckling, you carried on, trailing all the way up to the head and ending your journey with an ironically chaste kiss. Staring up at him, you smugly observed his lust-struck face, mouth releasing irregular breaths already. You couldn’t wait to have him curse at you.

Eyes back on the task at hand, you grabbed the base of his cock, opening your mouth. Slowly, aggravatingly slow, you sunk down, taking in inch by inch — Chan pushed his hips forward, and you nearly gagged at the impact of his head hitting the back of your throat. 

“Shi-shit baby,” he sputtered, watching you in awe at your work. “You better tell me if you don’t want your throat fucked.”

You answered him with your progression, slowly releasing his cock from your lips, tongue licking his slit before descending back on him again. You tried to be slow — you didn’t want to go straight to deepthroating, but the way Chan choked out his curses was sweet encouragement. Holding his dick still, you began bobbing your head and down, shallow at first, testing the waters.

When the man instinctively began bucking his hips, pushing his cock into your mouth further, you opened your jaw wider, taking in the remaining inches. The gag reflex kicked in like a bitch, but you refused to cease your labour as you increased your pace. Chan leaned in a little, caressing your cheeks as he rutted against your mouth.

“God, you’re fucking perfect, baby,” he cooed breathlessly. “So good for taking my cock like that.”

Unable to smile, you answered him with your hands, now playing with his balls, slapping them slightly to make him groan out in pleasure, head laid back against the chair. “I’m close, ____,” he warned, never stopping his own thrusts. You hoped he never would, when his end was so near.

Taking all of him in, you pressed your hands on his legs, urging you to look at him. With one final home run, you hollowed in your cheeks, surrounding his entire cock in your mouth as you imprisoned him with your hooded gaze.

The image of you, a beautiful ruination, was his undoing. 

Chan let out a vicious string of curses as he released, ropes of cum spilling inside your mouth. He slumped into the chair, breathing in the entire county’s worth of oxygen as all energy left him. This time, to add to his lust-driven shock, you swallowed his release, thanking your lucky stars that your friend finally listened and ate some fruit. His cum, at last, tasted more than bearable. 

After a few silent moments, the man finally raised himself from the dead, sighing as he beheld you kneeling still. “I think I can’t live without you.”

Chuckling, you heaved yourself up, legs unsteady. “That’s just your inner horny speaking,” you said, nearly falling over on your own feet. Quickly, Chan brought you back onto his lap again, creating an iron grip around you.

“Think what you like,” he began, peppering small kisses on your neck. “But your head game is stronger than my will to punch Jisung, that’s for sure.”

You hummed as he plunged his teeth upon a certain spot, pressing your legs together. “It better be.”

Finding your lips, he lazily kissed you, hands skirting higher as you move your mouth against his, never tired from his touches. 

“Have we christened the studio yet?” The man asked in between kisses, pushing his chair forward till your back hit the table. 

You shook your head no, already sensing his unbearable grin. You could not help returning his enthusiasm.

And as you both continued in your shameless arrangements, there was one thought that lingered in your head. 

There was absolutely no way you were going to that party. 

OF COURSE YOU WERE GOING TO THAT PARTY.

You looked to the building, the whole ground floor alight with different, ever-changing lights, and a dim pandemonium welcoming your ears. Your phone pinged with messages, but you dutifully ignored them, taking a deep breath as you took a step inside.

Greeted with a half-full hallway, it was not hard to find the party house, greeting awkwardly to a few drunk acquaintances before entering Jisung’s dorm. You were instantly hit by the smell of sweat and alcohol as the noise of popular music made your ears ring in discomfort. An abundance of students were cramped as they danced along to the tunes, screaming and laughing and simply enjoying themselves. 

While observing the scene, a small part of you wished your best friend was with you, an arm slung around you as he makes a comment on the specific people dancing rather terribly in the centre. You could already imagine him in his Friday attire, midnight-kissed with gold chains dangling off his belt, rings adorning his fingers and a little makeup to elevate his already exquisite features. Maybe, if you had insisted, he would have let you paint his nails, something which you adored on him. 

Fuck, you thought, searching through the crowd for a place to get a drink. Maybe you shouldn’t have come. 

You shook your head, though, beginning to squeeze through the partygoers. No. You can’t let Chan win in this.

And so you found your way to the kitchen, cans of beer, vodka and tequila stacked in broken pyramids to drink away. Just as you made to grab the Smirnoff your hand brushed against another’s. You turned to the direction, and beamed to see Jisung holding out the can for you.

“____!” he exclaimed, barely heard from the commotion yet could feel his joy radiating from him. “Don’t you have a thing with Chan on Fridays?”

“Well, that can happen every Friday, Ji, but your party was only today,” you answered him, and he was more than satisfied. 

He grabbed the same drink as yours, cracking it open as he looked at you, stare lingering upon your black dress. “I’m really glad you came, love.”

You blinked at the sudden endearment, but before you could say anything Changbin had interrupted the both of you, threatening to bring the roof down with his whining.

“Pleeease Ji, get me away from her!” he begged, holding onto Jisung’s arm and rocking it back and forth. “She keeps tryna drag me into the bedrooms and I can’t do it with her, bro!”

The boy adorned hints of irritancy, but he let himself be led by his friend, glazing at you. “Wait for me,” he requested.

His answer was a little wave, which he returned dutifully as he began to berate his friend for tearing him away from you. Raising your eyebrow, you turned back to the alcohol, finding some soda water and pouring it into the empty cups along with the Smirnoff. You would have drank the vodka straight from the bottle but you decided against drinking your tits off tonight. You didn’t really have a great desire for intoxication. 

You cursed at a few passersby as they bumped against you, nearly knocking the drink off your hands. Fixing your dress, you took the first sip, relishing the strong taste. The songs kept changing, the dancing getting wilder, and at this rate you knew someone was going to get handsy soon. 

Drinking away, you snapped the cup on the table beside you, waiting for Jisung to come back. 

Why did you even come here? 

You instantly soured at the thought.

Still, you could not help pondering further.

You should have stayed home. With him.

You groaned out loud.

It was ridiculous how you were unable to have any idea which didn’t centre around that prick. If he did not want to join you that was on him. 

Then were you feeling miserable?

Great. You poured yourself some more diluted vodka. Now you’re a full-time simp.

That helped you down the drink some more. At least this time, in fortunate circumstances, you were not a lightweight, and so were still completely aware of your surroundings. 

Aware enough to see a more tousled Jisung stagger toward you, giggling like a little child. 

You watched him lunge towards the tequila cans and crack one open, downing half the thing in one go. “Careful, Ji, or you’ll fall to your death!” you warned him, laughing as he exhaled with great exaggeration. 

He staggered to where you were standing, slumping against the wall and taking another can. “I’m so sorry!” he simpered, much too loudly for your sober ears. 

You raised a brow, about to ask him for what but he was already answering your question. “I made you wait so looong!” he dragged, drinking some more. “Look at you! Leaving you all alone.”

“Gee, thanks,” you said dryly, crossing your arms, drink still in hand. “Just say I have zero friends.” 

“Hey, don’t say that!” You were taken aback by Jisung grabbing onto your arm, pulling him to you. He looked you dead in the eyes, wide and alive. “You do not have zero friends!” he declared, louder than before. “I’m your friend.”

Your poor ears hurt like a bitch, but you smiled at his words. “Yes, indeed you are,” you said in earnest. “Thank you, Jisung.”

It was then he blinked slowly, parting his lips as his fingers upon your arm began to wander. “But I wish you didn’t think like that.”

His touch did not go unnoticed at all. You looked at him, raising a brow, but that action went unnoticed. “What do you mean?”

“Come on, you’re a smart girl,” he slurred, voice still soft and innocent as his hand travelled to your shoulder. “You know exactly what I mean.” 

Freezing up, you felt the pads of his fingers caress your face. When he tilted his head, you finally saw what he had been trying to show you since the start of the year, the emotions he was too drunk to hide any longer. 

Lust. Pure lust swirling in his eyes. 

It was like a lightbulb had finally switched on in your grape-sized brain.

“Oh my God!”

Instantly, you pressed your hands to Jisung’s chest, pushing him completely off. He nearly fell flat on his ass, but grabbed the table just in time to stagger back to balance. He glanced upwards, and you saw his eyes widen.

“____?” he got out, but you raised a finger, which he was still intelligent enough to figure out to shut up.

“Ji, what the fuck?” You slapped your drink down on the table, making him jump. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” he exclaimed, taking another can. “But it’s the truth, damn it, and I’m tired of having to pretend all the time about it!”

Fuck, you suddenly thought, realising that you needed to get out of this crammed residence. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

“Jisung, look—” you started, but he groaned out loud, waving off your answer.

“No, no, I know what you’re gonna say.” He then did a terrible impression of you, simpering, “Oh, Ji, I can’t go out with you because I’m soooo in love with my best friend in the whole wide world!”

You snapped your head to his direction. “What did you just say?”

“You heard me clearly!” He finished off his nth can. “Okay, maybe it isn’t a Romeo and Juliet shit going on, but I know something is going on between you two!”

A laugh huffed out of you, but the boy was not convinced. “We’re just friends. Good friends, that’s all.”

Your answer was a hysterical bout of laughter, confusing you even further. “Come on, ____. I’m stupid, but not completely braindead.”

He took a step closer to you, careful of your hands still. “I know Chan practically adores you.”

This little statement made your shit freeze. “Stop it,” you murmured.

“Why?” he demanded. “Because I’m saying something the both of you refuse to listen to?” 

“It’s none of your business,” you snapped. “Don’t get mad because I don’t wanna go out with you.”

“I’m not mad because of that.” With one last tequila can, he grabbed it, turning on his heel. “I’m mad because the both of you keep lying to yourselves.” 

Before you could counter back, the boy stumbled away from you, hollering to the crowd to leave some space on the dance floor for him. You wondered for a second how he’d handle dancing when he could barely walk properly, but then your thoughts drifted back to the more dire subject at hand.

“Fuck,” you cursed out loud this time. 

There it was. The question you should have addressed ever since you started this arrangement with Chan.

Were you really just friends? 

You knew the question to that yourself. Both you and him had transcended past that point now, and in a horrifying realisation, you didn’t mind it that much. After experiencing his touch, his whispers, you doubt that you could ever see him as a friend again. 

But...to be more?

Fuck indeed. You had a lot to think about tonight.

“But first,” you muttered, “To be out of this stupid party.” 

Quickly, after taking two Smirnoff cans, you squeezed past the million drunkards, making your way to the exit. When you were out of the residence, you breathed in the cool night air, a rarity in these sweaty dorm rooms. 

You had a small hope, as you walked down the lanes, that Chan would be there, right at the entrance as you left, but he was not there. He had a little habit of going wherever you were supposed to be if you were not home at the expected time, worried sick if you had drank or done something more stupid than usual. 

But he was not here today. Maybe going to Jisung’s party made him extremely pissed.

There was a reason he rated it 9/10.

Soon, you were at your building, entering inside and finding your door at the very end of the hallway. Fishing out the keys, you slid them into the lock, careful of the cans, hearing the click! of the unlocking.

Your hand rested upon the doorknob. Eyes staring at the lifeless colour of the door, you closed your eyes, letting out a deep breath.

Stop worrying. Chan is your best friend.

You turned the knob.

Your best friend.

Pushed the door open. Stepped inside.

Right?

“Back so soon?” 

Your body shivered at the words. Quickly walking inside the living room, you found the back of the sofa greeting you as per usual, with Chan’s head peering on top as he watched the TV. Walking further, you noticed yours and his favourite show playing on the screen.

“Yeah, it was quite boring, but the real question is,” you began, irritation marring your features, “Why are you watching this without me?” 

He didn’t even glance back at you, nor pause the TV. “Oh, I don’t know, ____, maybe because it’s Friday night, and it’s our thing to do this every time? Do tell me if I’m wrong!”

“Shut up, Chan,” you seethed, dumping the Smirnoff on the coffee tables in front of him. “This is the one time I missed this, so stop being such a baby.”

“Oh, so you tell me to shut up,” he jeered, snapping the remote on the table, making you jump slightly. “Fine, I’ll shut up. You won’t hear a word from me again.”

You took a glimpse of his face, and caught this cold fury simmering beneath his skin. Oh no. Had you going to Jisung’s party made him this angry? It was beyond nonsensical now. Bang Chan was the most reasonable man you ever befriended.

Taking in the emotions inhabiting on his face, however, proved otherwise.

I know Chan practically adores you.

The memory brought chills all over you again. 

Making your way into the kitchen, you figured to make yourself a midnight snack, hearing the crack! of a can opening behind you. Asshole, you refused to voice out loud, but opened the fridge, taking out leftovers and heating it up in the microwave.

“Anything interesting happened, then?” you heard the dry question travel to you. 

Scoffing, you turned, taking out your food. “Oh, I thought I wasn’t hearing a word from you again.”

Your best friend’s smile was anything but sweet. “Well, I figured if you weren’t going to tell me things, I had to ask you myself.”

That snatched any faux amusement you might have harboured. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“You know what the fuck that means!” he snapped, getting up from the couch, pausing the screen. “I can’t believe you’re not telling me.”

“How about a little less attitude and a little more truth, you prick,” you rebuked, putting the cartons on the kitchen counter. 

“Fine, I’ll tell you the truth that you’re too much of a pussy to say yourself!” He thundered into the kitchen, Smirnoff still in hand. 

You backed up against the counter when he caged you with his glare. “Since when did you start going out with Jisung?”

Instantly your brows furrowed. “Who the fuck told you that?” 

“Shit, I knew that bastard wanted to get in your pants,” he roared. “And you let him use you!”

“Woah, woah, buddy, slow down there!” You raised your hands in objection. “I’m not dating Jisung!”

“What?” He took a gulp of the vodka, confusion mixing with his fury. “You’re not?”

“Of course not, the fuck?! Who told you this?”

“He—” but then the cogs turned in Chan’s head, and suddenly it made sense to him. “Oh, for Christ’s sake!”

“What happened?” you asked, but he was drinking some more, cursing himself for even believing such nonsense. “Chan?”

“That son of a bitch called me before you came,” he started, swirling his drink in the can. “And I don’t know why he did, but he kept telling me to back off from you.”

You let out a low curse, but your friend was not finished. “I told him to get some sleep, cause clearly he wasn’t right in the head, but then...he said some words which literally shut me up.”

Then, you saw him hitch in an uncertain breath. “____, he bragged that he asked you out and...and you said yes.” 

His reaction had you widening your eyes, mouth parting just a little. “And, damn it, I thought that this is why she’s so nice to this little fucker, giving him my coffee, or missing Friday night for his stupid party. Hell, even suggesting him first to be her friends-with-benefits.

“Because maybe she liked Jisung all along.”

You watched in horror as he finished his drink, crumbling the can and throwing it in the bin beside you. A shuddered breath escaped you at the explanation, but you sucked it in once more when you blinked back the sheer intensity of this man’s stare. 

“So...yeah.” He ruffled his hair, breaking the stare as he looked away, face flushing with colour. “That’s why I just...yeah.”

A small part of you melted at his words, and his now embarrassment after expressing his desperate worry for you and your potential relationship.

Still, you had some problems that needed solving. “Chan, then why were you so angry at me?!”

You crossed your arms. “You didn’t even wait to hear what I had to say on the matter.”

“I don’t know, okay?!” he exclaimed, propping his hands to his sides. “I heard Jisung saying all that bullshit, and at the time I was so pissed that…”

“I can’t believe you’d think I’d go out with him, you dumbass!”

“Well, I don’t know, he’s just such a nice guy like you keep saying, and all that flowery poetry for him just went straight into my head!” 

The situation almost seemed comical now. “Oh my God, did you really think I liked him?!

“Of course” he cried out, slapping his hands on the counter top next to you, unable to let you escape. As if you even wanted to. “Of course I thought that or else I wouldn’t be shitting my pants all night!”

“Then you’re the dumbest fucking prick I’ve ever met!” you screamed, as you grabbed hold of his hoodie, pulling him closer to you. “Because I don’t like him!

“I like you!”

“Well, I like you too, you stupid bitch!” 

The confession had you both stopping, preventing the two of you going deaf from your shouting. The whole fight was completely ridiculous, but when you looked at each other, drinking in the words that just left your lips, the realisation finally dawned on you. 

I like you too.

Well, shit. There it was.

The one thing you’d been hiding ever since you decided to fool around with him. 

Maybe this was the last way you wanted to tell him, shouting out your declaration to prove his suspicions wrong. It was almost like something out of an unfunny American sitcom — this weird, comic deflation, but at least it was out in the open now.

You had finally told him of your feelings. 

A pinch of that anger brewing within his features settled a little, hands still fisted on your sides. His eyes darted on every point of your face, as if he’s trying to memorise every inch, every detail etched upon your skin. 

Although his blatant awe made you flustered, the aching inside spoke for you. “Are you going to keep staring all night or just kiss me already?” 

God, you were such a bitch.

Chan seemed to think so too. “Nevermind, I fucking hate you,” he snarled, capturing your lips with his in an instant. You smiled against his mouth as you kissed him back with the same intensity, the same need which spread like wildfire in your body.

Kissing him should have become a routine with the amount of times you did it, but every locking of your lips with his sent you in a frenzy, lust-driven emotions spiralling out of control. You welcomed his tongue inside your mouth, the strong taste of tequila and desperation enlivening your inner workings, heightening your need for him, him, and only him.

His hands had no restrictions — the pads of his fingers had their very own needs, their own desire to feel every crevice of your body, your every curve and corner till you have no secret stored in your figure which they did not know of. You welcomed their ravaging, embraced their interrogation as they tried to uncover everything you held dear. 

Once these hands found a weakness in the form of your dress altogether, they cleverly found an opening, reaching for the end of your dress lined at your thighs. His fingers hitched the hem upwards, skirting it higher until it bunched at your waist, revealing a red, silken thong, embroidered with black thread. You relished in Chan practically salivating all over the image, but his lust slapped him out of his dazing, and hurried to get it off, hands slipping it down your legs until it was discarded on the kitchen floor. 

In an instant the man thrust two fingers inside of you, stretching your walls and creating a hypnotic rhythm of removing and inserting them back again. Your moans could bring down the whole residence, but none of you cared when Chan was scissoring you with his digits on the kitchen counter, desire radiating off his stature, and a determination to completely ruin you stark on his face. 

“M-more!” You begged, knowing you could take it, and you were rewarded with a third finger, filling you up as you cried out in pleasure. His mouth quietened you, sucking on your lower lip and then taking all of you, had you delirious, but this insanity only progressed as the thrust of his fingers hit lighting speed. 

The three digits had quickened your potential release, right on the tip of your cunt if he did not stop. “I’m g-gonna—fuck—!” 

You were interrupted as Chan’s lips left yours, trailing down to your neck, collarbone, brushing his teeth between your chest as he fell to his knees. Pulling you forward, on the edge of the countertop, he spread your legs apart, cock twitching at the drenched cunt which awaited him, like a feast displayed for a starved, wild animal. 

Looking up at you, he growled, “Cum when I say so, understand?”

Your hurried nods was all he needed as he dove right in, tongue sliding up your slit, lapping up your arousal as if it was an eternal cure. He fastened his stroke as he welcomed in his sight your clit, swiping his tongue along the bud. 

You moaned out his name like a cry for help, and he answered at first ring when his fingers still laboured, faster and faster, along with his heavenly tongue licking your clit like ice cream on a summer's day. 

“Chan, please—!” You choked out, one hand carding through the man’s hair, driving his face deeper into your cunt. “Please, I need to cum!”

Completely ignoring you, he carried on his ravishing, making you shake your legs to a point your body was beyond your control — you were at his mercy when his head was between your legs, when he prodded at your core as if it was no one else’s but his. 

When Chan brushed against your g-spot, it took every muscle in your body not to cum on his face then and there. He was being cruel; this was punishment for going to that party, justice for choosing Jisung’s company over his.

You did not know punishment felt so pain-stakingly amazing. 

Calling out his name for the last time, you knew that if the man carried on, you would go against his wishes and free yourself of the burden pushing down on your gut. Gripping onto his hair hard enough to rip right off, Chan spared a single glance at you from above, licking his lips off your mess.

“Cum for me, baby.”

That was the first time you came that night. Shaking as you freed your juices unto him, he gladly accepting the release. It was like you possessed a vessel of your release, the way you kept it inside for so long. He could never refuse though, when he knew he was responsible for driving you down that road of vulnerability. 

However, even with all of that, you still wanted more. 

And as Chan ascended on his feet, yanking his fingers out of you, he saw it in your eyes. The uncontainable passion. The unadulterated desire. 

All for him. All. For him.

Your best friend’s smile was positively wicked.

“I will completely ruin you, ____.”

He was upon you like a beast, no mercy upon your lips as he bruised them with his teeth, your pleas drowned out by his mouth as he lifted you in his arms. His kisses never ceased as he led you in his bedroom, nearly ripping the hinges at the sheer intensity of slamming his door shut. 

Throwing you on the bed, your breath whooshed out of you at the free fall, heart running miles as you witnessed Chan take his shirt off, his entire chest glistening with sweat, no doubt from the work he put in mere minutes ago. 

Upon you in seconds, his mouth robbed you of any more oxygen, prying it open as he attempted to unzip your dress from the back. Then, pressing open-mouthed kisses down your throat, he tried to loosen the zipping, but the damned thing got stuck in it’s trail, unable to satisfy. 

Letting out an angry growl, he damned the dress when, using his hands at the front, he ripped the fabric in half, completely down to the hem. 

“My dress!” You gasped out, watching him discard the torn fabric as if it were a minor inconvenience in his path.

You were cut off by his mouth, scorching you down to the bone. “I’ll buy you ten more, baby,” he muttered, skimming his hands down your bare sides.

You had the audacity to roll your eyes at his words. “Why do you keep forgetting you’re a college student?”

It seemed Chan did not take kindly to your comment. “Shut your fucking mouth,” he snapped, resulting in you leaking right onto his sheets. 

That kept you wilfully obedient, and rightfully so, when he unclipped your bra, tossing it to the side, and settled upon your breasts. Grinding his clothed cock upon your bare slit, he licked your right nipple, making you whimper out at him. His reply was swirling his finger on your left nipple, toying with your body as if it was his plaything. You would have had a right mind to shout at him if he didn’t bring such euphoria along with it. 

“Chan,” you whispered, gripping onto the sheets as he continued sucking your breasts. “Chan, I...I need you to fuck me already.”

He paused his assault on your bud, raising a groomed brow. “What do you say to that?” He asked, too calmly in a crazy situation like this. 

Of course, he wanted to make you beg. Considering you did not care the least for your self respect, or lack thereof, you completely obliged him, rutting your bare cunt upon his trousers. 

“Please, Chan. Please.”

Hearing the little pleases had him kissing you insane as he urged you to take his pants off. You willingly obeyed, tossing the clothing along with his Calvins, and when his cock sprung me you felt the inside of your mouth water at the sight. 

The man hovered just above you as he positioned his dick right at the entrance, poking between the folds. “Say the magic word, now, baby,” he commanded quietly, and just for the last time, you had to be the most annoying person in the world. 

“Donghyuck!”

The second that damned name slipped out of your mouth, you completely regretted it as instead of making sweet, slow love to you, Bang Chan thrusted his cock so hard into you your whole body flinched with the impact. You couldn’t suppress the whimper that escaped, tears settling in your eyes, but alas, your best friend had little sympathy for you. 

“Bitch,” he seethed, pulling out, widening your eyes only to have him slam his cock back into you, sending you into another universe entirely. 

You envied his strength — you could barely hold onto his arms while his grip on you could probably compete with the Earth’s gravity, stable and safe and inescapable. He imprisoned you in his hold as he pulled out slowly, and then drove back inside, but you wanted to be in this cage, to never leave his midnight eyes that offered something other than rage and lust and humour. You dared not wonder what it might be, but when you closed your eyes, your mind began to ponder, float amongst the stars of ideas and questions which defined your relationship.

As Chan began to fasten his pace, thrusts more erratic, you held onto his dark curls, mouth never refraining every moan and whine which he fucked out of you. There he was, the man who deemed you worthy of being pleasured, despite risking your decade old friendship to see you have the same advantages as any old person who was sexually frustrated.

But this man did not just give you any old advantages — he offered the whole world in his hands to you, knelt before you, fulfilled your every waking desire, held onto you before you could ever slip away into the chaos of your mind. Even now, with you getting lost into the galaxies of his eyes, it was solely his hands which were the anchor to reality, a reality he made better by his offer. 

Bang Chan, your very best friend. 

When he caught the tenderness radiating on your face, he could not help stealing a little for himself, moulding his lips upon yours as he pistoned you in the bed. It was perhaps this small warmth, along with his perfect rhythm of his cock that had you crying out, barely able to contain your second release.

You broke away from the kiss, and uttered his name like a prayer. “Chan,” you whimpered, not needing to say anything for him to realise that you were so very near.

He pressed his forehead against yours, unable to keep away from you. “Fine then,” he grumbled. “I’ll go easy on you.

“Cum for me, ____.”

The words weren’t fully out when you stained Chan’s bed with your release, pushing through the tiny spaces in your walls. He, too, let out an aggravated cry as he spilled into you, most mingling along with your cum upon the sheets. 

A heavy silence fell upon the both of you, both of your breathing harmonising with each other in the cold midnight. Chan toppled on the side of the bed next to you, closing his eyes as he breathed from his mouth, chest rising unevenly.

For minutes none of you said anything to each other, simply basking in each other’s peace. You felt the eyes of your best friend, and locked them with yours.

You decided to break the silence first. 

“I’m sorry for saying his name.”

Brilliant. Why would you mention that stupid idol once again? 

Chan, surprisingly, burst into laughter. You were caught completely off guard, but seeing his smile lighten up his face had you reflecting his happiness. 

“You are,” he rasped out, holding onto his stomach, “The most annoying bitch I’ve ever met.”

“Hey!” You exclaimed, smacking him on his arm, which he responded with threats of pushing you off the bed. “You wouldn’t dare!”

His hands were upon you in seconds, steering you at the edge of the mattress. He cackled at your shocked yelping, and you glared at him as he pushed you away from the edge, and into his arms. “Asshole,” you murmured, burying your face in his chest, which he gladly welcomed as he stroked your hair softly with his fingers. 

You both found solace in each other’s embrace for a little while before Chan let go of you. “Hey, I completely forgot, but...I got you something while you were out.”

Your eyes perked up at the idea of a gift, which the man tutted when he noticed. “Greedy whore,” he crowed, getting out of the bed as he strolled to his desk, grabbing a brown paper bag. His marble-cut ass was out for you to see, and you took full advantage, watching it with no small amount of admiration. 

“Enjoyed the view?” He asked innocently as he slithered right back into bed again, offering you the paper bag. Sticking your tongue out at him, you took the offer, opening it up to see what was so special inside.

Catching sight of the gift had you bursting into a smile.

“Chan!”

You whipped the goods out of the bag, hand on your mouth.

The man bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from smiling too wide. “You like it?”

“You like it?” You parroted, already digging in. “Where did you even find these?”

“Oh, I visited my mom earlier in the day, and she got the cookies from the old shop,” he explained, taking one of the sweets for himself. “I instantly thought of you as she gave them to me, so I saved them for you.”

You widened your eyes in affection. These sweets may have been normal, bakery cookies, but they held a significance for the both of you: these cookies were what started the whole trend of you and Chan rating certain objects or situations for each other, and whenever you were on an academic break, you made sure to drag your friend back to our hometown, where you could always grab a dozen of your favourite snack.

“Thank you for these, bud,” you said, eating away the first cookie. “I think they’ve become better than an eight now.”

Chan hummed in agreement, finishing off his one too. Licking the crumbs off his fingers, he then turned to you, a question riddled all over his face. “Hey, ____?”

“Yeah?”

When he didn’t say anything, you focused your attention on him, propping your head on your elbow. You saw with slight surprise that his cheeks were reddening by the second.

“Chan?”

“It’s just…” he raised his hand, holding your own. “I’ve been thinking about…all of this.”

You raised your brows, refusing to reveal the dread rising in your gut. “Us?”

“Yeah, us,” he confirmed, stroking his thumb across your fingers. “Now, remember that you’ll always be my best friend, okay, like I don’t want you thinking that this would be the end of us or something—”

“Get to the point, buddy,” you hurried along, earning a glare from him.

Then, he licked his lips in anxiety, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Hand never leaving yours, he pinned you with a stare, making you even more nervous.

He parted his mouth. 

“____, would you like to go on a date with me?”

You blinked. 

Your delayed reaction had Chan groaning. “Fuck, nevermind, just forget I said anything!” He swiped his hand away from yours, holding his head in shame. “I should have kept my big mouth shut, your bad habits are really growing on me—”

“Yes.”

Your best friend paused. 

Turned, ever so slowly, towards you. 

“What?”

You could not contain your smile as you took his hand once more. “I’ll go on a date with you, you big oaf.”

For a second you truly believed you had killed off Chan with that declaration. Then, his face exploded into pure joy, and he tackled you in a massive hug, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“Oh my fucking God!” he cursed, “Don’t do that to me again!”

You laughed heartily as you put him at arms’ length. “You were the one doing mental gymnastics!” 

Refusing still to let go of you, he played with your hair as he clamped on his lips. “One more thing.”

“Shoot.”

“How good was I?” He looked at you, a vulnerable expression etched onto his beautiful features. “You know...with all of this.”

You stared at him, drinking in his face, his every detail, as if you had all the time in the world. Firstly, you had a right mind to pull his leg one more time, but you feared that if you made fun of him again, he might die of a heart attack.

And you still had many more years of tormenting your best friend.

So you brought him towards you, pressing your lips onto his. He seemed very much obliged to go deeper, but you pulled away just as quickly, offering him a ghost of a smile.

“I think you were a 10/10,” you whispered. “From start till finish.”

Hearing the score, and sensing your sincerity along with it, had him in near tears. He enveloped your mouth with his, backing you against the divan as he expressed his affection within the rhythm of his lips. 

When he pulled away, still mere inches from you, he said the words he’d been meaning to say since the day he first laid eyes on you — since the day you two contacted this system, since the day he knew your rating as if he knew his own name.

“Well, baby, you’ve always been a 10/10 for me.”

#stray kids smut #bang chan smut #stray kids oneshot #bang chan imagines #bang chan oneshot #bang chan fluff #bang chan x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #stray kids dark hours #bang chan dark hours #bang chan hard hours #stray kids hard hours

[too-loud-but-not-enough]

Know when to breath (Robbie Reyes x Male Reader)

Hey guys, I just wanted to say something about my last post even if some people don’t think its a big deal. 

I want to say sorry for the GIF I used for my last imagine story. I should have used a more diverse set to represent the male reader instead of just putting someone who has a similar skin tone to myself. I was putting myself into the story when I should have made it open for all because thats what I want. I want everyone to be able to imagine themselves as part of the story and be valid.

Imagine: You feeling like people take you for granted yet still wanting to be generous in helping your friends. Robbie notices and you two share a one on one.

The feeling of neglect weighed heavily on you. Whether it be when the space joining your neck and shoulders ached, your cheeks seemed to sag and your eyebrows felt like they were pushing themselves down, even when you felt a grasp around your ribcage, as if someone was hugging you from behind while prying your chest open from the front. Sometimes it would feel the opposite. Like your ribcage would fold in on itself as if you were wearing a corset. It wasn’t fun yet you felt it was a necessary evil. You were a listener. 

You hardly ever felt the need to speak up for what you identified as trivial unless it was for your friends. Quite hypocritical but that was how you worked. To your friends, all throughout your school years and into your adult life, you were the designated therapist of the group. When they had something to say, they could go on for hours if they so pleased. Sometimes they would even act as if you owe them a listening session when you were unavailable. It got on your nerves yet you didn’t want to cause conflict. You were very aware of the one-sided relationships you had and knew if you were to bring it up, they would most likely feel attacked. 

This is why you kept to yourself a lot. Not that you closed yourself off or anything but didn’t completely go out of your way to see your friends like you used to. You couldn’t help but feel tired though. You were one of those people who thought too deep into things and it usually spent the energy you needed to get through the day. 

Right now you were walking home from your job. Today had been fairly active, what with one of your friends coming in to your workplace to talk about this boy she’d been dating for months. As much as you liked being the listener to her problems, was there literally nothing else she could talk about? You’d met the guy and he seemed alright but now she just kept talking about missing him after a day apart. Also it didn’t help that she once outed you without your permission by loudly claiming you were her gay best friend. 

You were still waiting for that apology. 

That aside, you were able to listen and now you were home free. The keys jingled as you twisted them in the lock. The house was empty when you walked in. No Robbie or Gabe which dampened your mood a bit more since they were people you had absolutely no problem listening to. You decided to busy yourself and bake to pass the time. 

You spent your time mixing flower, milk, eggs, and other ingredients including broken up chocolate bars into a boll to make the mix for a batch of cookies. After carefully laying them out on the tray, you placed them in the oven to bake. Just as you were setting the timer, you nearly jumped out of your skin when you felt a pair of leather clad arms find their way around your waist. While you emerged yourself in producing the treats, you’d become oblivious to Robbie and Gabe entering the home. 

Both seeing you completely immersed in baking that you hadn’t noticed them walk in. Robbie content in just watching you. Loving the sight of you focused on something you enjoyed without a worry to anything else, different from how he saw you throughout the day whenever he came to check or when you dropped by the shop to make sure he was ok with the stress you knew he went through. Gabe smiled at the both of you, enjoying the view of something somewhat domestic, something he hadn’t really considered would happen but then again, he hadn’t really expected Robbie to find a guy as caring and accepting as you for a boyfriend. Then again, Robbie would of course find someone who he’d be expected to protect. Thing was thats exactly what you did instead. Guiding him through stressful situations to which Gabe was grateful. He caught Robbie’s attention by cocking his head in the direction of his room, signalling he’d leave them be.

Robbie nodded his head in thanks. After his brother rolled off to his room somehow going unnoticed by you still, The mechanic snuck up behind you as you were closing the door to the oven. He grinned when you jumped at his touch. Happy that you felt safe enough to not have noticed his arrival. You reached your arms around his to return the hug “Hey, sorry I didn’t hear you come in”. The feeling of his stubble on your neck accompanied by his lips caused warmth to spread through you, having you revel in his touch. 

He smirked at your apology, knowing it was one of your habits. "I didn't want to stop you while you were at it". Placing a kiss at the nape of your neck, he paused when he felt the stiffness under the skin. "Mi Amore," he gave you a concerned look, lightly rubbing his hand between your shoulder and neck "you're all tense".

You almost didn't hear him. The pressure and friction his hand made with your muscles pulled you into a little world of your own, like you were in a soothing wirlpool that threatened to swallow you whole. Melding with it without a care in the world. The feeling almost made you moan. 

Robbie's concern mixed with a smile as he felt you leaning into his touch. “Y/N?”.

“Oh!” You startled out of your mini trance, you seemed to be doing that a lot “Sorry, just been a bit busy at work and stuff”. Your dismissive response earned a frown from your boyfriend. 

“What stuff? Like friends?” Yeah Robbie knew about your friends and your listening habits, another reason why he loved you yet one of the reasons he worried. Sneaking his hand back around your waist, he hooked his chin on the nape of your neck where he’d been pressing. “What happened?”.

You sighed, feeling him against you always got you into a calmer state. “Nothing much, just some talk, honestly its nothing”. At that you heard him give a growl of sorts, not of anger, you knew that but a mixture of concern and frustration. You were prone to neglecting your own feelings for the sake of others. 

“Y/N” he growled out, squeezing you closer to him “you can’t just say its nothing when it takes a toll on you”. 

He checked the timer on the oven and saw that it had another 18 minutes to go. “Come on” he said pulling you with him out of the kitchen and guided you to your shared bedroom. You sat on the bed with your legs crossed waiting as he went to ask Gabe to handle the cookies before walking back into the room and seating himself on the bed across from you. 

“Now” he said looking you dead in the eyes as a method of letting you know he wanted you to speak “what happened?”.

You didn’t feel like you could brush this off like usual so you decided you’d at least give some detail. “I guess I’m just tired” you stated which he nodded at. 

“Tired of what?”. 

“Tired of feeling like I work two jobs instead of one, like every time I go to work. I just want to do that, work” you sighed. 

Robbie gave you a look of sympathy as you had done for him plenty of times when he vented which prompted you to go on. “But even then, people keep coming to me and saying things at me which yeah I’m happy to help but I also have a job to do. Then with my friends I feel like I’m just there trying to figure out what to say in response to what they’re saying but its so dull! Like how many times do I have to hear jasmine talk about her fucking boyfriend? Like I want to tell her that if she considers breaking up with him so much then she should shut up and do it but then she’ll get depressed and whine about missing him for a year until someone else shows up!”. You realised your voice had risen to the point where you were sure Gabe could hear you from the other room. Your posture had straightened up making you seem taller than before and your face had done its natural brows down murder look. All the while you’d begun to look down at the bedsheets as if you were speaking to them instead of Robbie.

Looking up, you saw Robbie’s face in a state of silent surprise and sympathy. You hate how you lost your temper and caused that look. You hated seeing when someone had a look of shock or disgust and it was aimed at you. To you it always meant that you had failed their expectations and that you weren’t worth their time anymore. 

“Sorry”

“Wait what?” Robbie didn’t know what you were apologising for. He new it was one of your habits but he got why you would be frustrated. He reached over and rubbed a hand on your bicep “you’re allowed to be frustrated and I would be too if someone went on about the same thing over and over again”.

He was always so sweet to you but you still felt guilty for the outburst. “Yeah, I just feel like all I do is listen and they don’t really listen back and when they do they keep getting it back to them.”

You realised how light you felt after saying all that, all the stress leaving your body. You realised it had been a while since you felt like this. Not that you didn’t have moments like this with Robbie and vice versa. It was just wasn’t this type of thing that you got to do often with other people. You tried your best to get through it. You kept a journal yet you can only write so much and place so many feelings into the pages that it was expected you’d still have some to brew over. With Robbie though. Talking to him like he did to you felt like a whole breath of fresh air. No. It felt as iff you’d been swimming in a sewer, finally slipping into cleaner waters without all the pollution gripping to your skin like algae. 

Robbie moved over next to you, wrapping you up in his arms as he nuzzled into your neck. You couldn’t help the giggle the escaped your lips when you felt the softness of his lips mixed with his stubble brushing against your usually shaved neck. You felt content and he could tell. You were so relaxed now he was ready if you were to fall asleep right there and then. The sound he got from you made him smile into your skin. He was so happy he could give you the release you craved even when you didn’t ask for it. 

He never wanted you to ask for it. Because you deserved it even when you felt you didn’t. 

It was the same for him and you never wavered from supporting.

The two of you stayed there, peaceful and happy before you shot up to the smell of burning.

“THE COOKIES!”

“GABE!”

#robbie reyes imagine #robbie reyes x reader #robbie reyes x male reader #Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. #gay imagine #gay #comfort #Talking it out #Robbie's a sweety #Robbie Reyes gay imagine

[peacestarrlove]

im just not in love with him anymore...

I love my boyfriend but I haven’t been in love with him in so long. I keep telling myself it’s just a phase or bump in the road, and I’ll be in love again soon.

But it’s been almost 2 years..and I’m not so sure anymore.

2 years ago he told me the truth about a lot of things he was lying about. It was the 5th year of our relationship and I felt like since I loved him so much we could work through it. I could forgive him and trust him again.

And I did. I forgave him and I trust him and I love him. But I’m not in love with him.

It feels almost impossible to break up though. We’ve been together almost 7 years and I want him in my life. I know i would miss him.

There are just some things that don’t sit right with me, and I truly don’t know how I could be with him the rest of my life. Maybe I’m being petty. I don’t know. That’s the hard part when you don’t have any family or friends to talk to and you isolate yourself. right and wrong get confusing.

I hate listing these things about him but I really need to get them off my chest:

•he’s not in the moment, usually in his head. he constantly asks me to repeat myself cuz he wasnt listening. Even when he just asked me a question?...and before this problem he would barley listen to me and I would be endlessly upset and feeling lonely. Now atleast he tries to listen but asks me to repeat myself so much constantly it’s..just a lot everyday. He will even wake me up and kiss me good morning I love you and I’ll say good morning I love you too and he’s like “what? Huh?” From the moment I wake up and it just kinda ruins my day. Reminded of what I’m about to go through all day before I even open my eyes. It’s like he’s in autopilot?

•he doesn’t remember..pretty much anything properly, if at all. We’ve been together since we were 16 and when we recall memories together he can rarely remember anything. Anytime I bring anything up, he asks multiple times “are you sure? You’re sure that happened?” And it drives me crazy. Not only does he make me feel like he doesn’t believe me, he really doesn’t remember. And it makes me feel so alone..

I know the memory one probably sounds crazy but he really doesn’t remember things. Like even tonight, we had dinner with my dad and my dad had told us a joke. My boyfriend told me the joke a few hours later and was in disbelief when I finished the joke? He was like “i seriously don’t remember you being there when he told it”.

This event is pretty much what triggered this vent no one is ever gonna read but I need to fucking write it. I’m going insane tbh. And I know this sounds small but this memory thing happens daily with a lot of memories, small and big. it’s just heartbreaking. He’s the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with but what’s the point if he never remembers anything?

•lack of understanding and sympathy for others. I have to give so many examples and explain so much for him to finally understand why certain things are hard for people/animals. I feel like he should have this basic understanding and I’m tired.

•he checks out minors, and I’m talking young minors (like 12-14) and obviously any age under 18 is terrible but that young wtf?! it scares me and when i confront him he just gets really angry and says he can’t help it?? literal children holding their moms hand sometimes..and i didn’t know about this til last year when he told me and it disgusts me to my core. i guess im a naive oblivious idiot??

•he doesn’t care how bad my anxiety is in public, now matter how much I tell him.

He knows I have a hard time going to public places. And we will be walking up to one and he starts saying out loud “oh I see their fire monitoring system..i know how to shut that down, turn the water off..light the building on fire HAHAHAH” like??? Not funny at all. People always stare. It makes me feel so awkward. He says he likes the attention. I tell him it makes my anxiety go crazy and please stop making these “jokes”. He never did. He even made one tonight when we pulled up to our hotel and parked by the backflow.

•he’s into MILF porn and tells me it’s cuz he “used to” fantasize about being with his mom... obviously he still fantasizes about his mom. he asks me to watch porn with him (even though it makes me extremely uncomfortable) and then he puts on MILF and I’m just like great you’re fucking me while thinking about your mom. Then I’m laying there trying not to vomit. So he either likes children or moms. Tf.

•he shows major irresponsibility with our cats and it makes me feel like what would happen if we had children. I really don’t wanna have kids with him because he’s so irresponsible and idk how I can be with someone forever that I can’t raise a kid with. Plus even more scary, is he gonna be perverted if we have a daughter?

•I’ve accomplished many things since we’ve started dating(so has he) but the last two years I’ve been in a very dark depression and I feel like he’s barely noticed/cared. I haven’t accomplished or done much of anything for almost 2 years. Which led to me being vocal about my depression and anxiety which isn’t something I normally ever would have done(I’ve struggled with it by myself my whole life). But I just can’t get out of this slump. I don’t blame him for me feeling this way at all, I just wish he showed compassion or atleast notices how different I am now. Especially on days that are really tough and I don’t even get out of bed...

The sad part is I wrote so many more bullet points but I kept deleting them. I could go on and on and on but I feel sick with every one that I write. Maybe because I know this could mean breaking up with him and idk if it’s the right thing or if I can do it. I just know I’m so unhappy. And it’s hard to gain perspective. Especially since he’s not all bad, obviously. He’s my best friend and I love him. I spend every day with him. I just can’t ignore these things. My family laughs at how much I can ignore the crazy shit he does but it’s really not funny. I’m blocking it out because I can’t stand the pain anymore.

#depressed #depression #lonely #loneliness #vent #venting #relationships #need advice #even though #no one will ever see this #no one will ever read all this #but i needed to write it #for me #ugh #heartbroken #worried #confused #sad #ventblog #peacestarrlove

[ralfstrashcan]

3x13 Reaction / Commentary

Yeah I'm aware, stop judging X___X

I feel the need to point this out. Apparently it's common practice for the Praetor to just, kill off their more troublesome charges. Interesting. But Jordan has a different work ethic which is a) apparently not usual for praetors and b) something at least Nick attributes to his past and not, idk, common decency. Just how savage is the Praetor exactly?? (Also let me add this to the list of things why 3x15 makes no sense at all.)

Okay, so they found another mundane dead by Heidi's hand...... why exactly don't they call the Shadowhunters? Aren't they obliged to? I mean?

True, but it sure as hell is her responsibility how she handles them. But we established already that she has a serious perception problem and always sees herself as the victim.

I mean, prime example, if she could have made that smooth exit through the vent where the werewolves couldn't follow, why didn't she just do that from the start instead of attacking Nick? Because she wants to cause trouble and not just “live her life in peace” as she's pretending to.

More like, he didn't have the guts to face Alec like that. Also does that mean he draped Izzy on the couch like that in that cliché sleeping pose with one hand under the head? At least he took off her boots like a sane person.

“I'm just drained.”

Haha it seems Alec isn't the only Lightwood sibling with a shitty sense of humor.

“I don't have the same preexisting condition.” “You mean my addiction?”

No, Izzy, he obviously means your fashion sense, keep up. Seriously, who wrote that stupid ass line of dialogue.

I found it pretty hilarious that Simon, Clary's literally oldest and bestest friend since kindergarten, feels the need to apologize to Izzy for taking up so much time with his Clary-reunion and blocking the path for her. The Clizzy Energy is Strong.

“Hmmmm hot hot hot Clary, please show me more.”

MY THOUGHTS EXACTLY HAHAHAHA PERFECT

Also, Morningstar.... didn't Val name his dumbass tanker ship in S1/S2 Morningstar? Guy really has it with name repetitions, first Jonathan 1 and 2, now Morningstar Ship and Morningstar Sword... I bet he named all his stuffed teddys Mr Snuffels 1, Mr Snuffels 2, Mr Snuffels 3.....

The way he delivers this line me might've as well said “Please cut out the emotional disgusting bullshit my skin is crawling already from this I can't take any more mushiness PLEASE GO AWAY.” Gotta love Alec.

MAGNUS RAGE PUNCHING THE KEYBOARD IS THE MOST RELATABLE THING I HAVE EVER SEEN

Magnus opening up about missing his magic MY HEART OH MY GOD

(Sidenote though: No wonder he got frustrated with the pretentious Shadowhunter Technology, I mean, look at it. There are only runes. Runes may be called runes, but they don't actually make up an alphabet. Why the heck is there a flexibility rune on the screen? It makes no sense.)

This whole scene (and Izzy's lipstick lol) is absolutely perfect. I love everything about it, especially Magnus and especially Izzy. I'd be really surprised if Magnus didn't find a way to get her that weird root thingy anyway, because he surely doesn't buy the “feeling a lot better now” line.

(Edit: Now thinking about it I realized two things, a) she probably didn't take him up on his offer to go to another warlock because she felt like that was unnecessarily rubbing in that he can't do it himself anymore* and b) with that line she probably meant she feels lighter already for sharing what happened and just <3<3<3<3<3)

*The only think that would have made this scene more perfect is if Izzy hadn't skimmed over his magic comment without acknowledging it in any way. Though with this thought in mind, that she rejected his offer to spare his feelings, I find myself placated.

Also I love how Magnus pretends he's going to look for pen and paper when really he's running straight to Alec to tell him all about this (and to prevent a repetition of 2x09 form happening.... and now I made myself sad again).

#effortless (Also reminds me of that post about fire message mechanics that I still owe a certain someone. Where is the time.)

HAHAHAHA

???????????? How do they know that? More importantly, does Alec know? Will he hear through the Shadow World grapevine??? So many questions.

I mean, I have sympathy for her. But like, she's too smart for me to buy that she genuinely can't see any other course of action. She just does this because it's the least effort for her, not because she's truly clueless what alternatives are there for here (aka not running around, killing mundanes, starting a fight with everyone). She just thrives on chaos.

Also “Wolves don't just attack without cause. Not in New York” ? Seems like all Institute except the NY one do a shit job since supposedly keeping peace between the Downworld factions is part of their responsibility. Yes, I am still salty about 3x15. (Also, if anyone's confused by this weird foreshadowing, I wrote notes for this reaction post while watching 3x13 when it first aired, but only got to finish it now after 3x19 aired and I can't keep my chronology-screwing bitterness to myself while finishing up the post. But mostly these are my thoughts from then.)

Yeah something tells me she's not gonna be totally uninvolved in that.

This and the fact that Russel wants to stop Bat from even leaving the Jade Wolf are the final proofs that all the werewolves actually live at the Jade Wolf and pile up in a giant snuggle pile in the kitchen at night. This is further cemented by the fact that Luke and Maia claim to have flats of their own but we never actually see them. Clearly they're both dirty liars that just wanted to mislead.

*late Jocelyn's late friend Eliot #rude #whatever

.......why the hell would Elias code that shit in Circle short hand? So other Circle members, who Jocelyn was hiding from, could easily open that super important safe? So smart! Also, correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't Luke in the Circle as well? Shouldn't he be able to read that, too?

1) Eliot is such a loser and a showoff for ostentatiously writing that J in Jocelyn 2) His hint is seriously “Don't open with brute force.” Wtf kind of hint is that man are you even real.

I'm sorry, okay, but everytime I see / hear Bellicosi I think Maxi-Cosi XD

*glares at 3x15* Will I ever tire of raging about that episode? Unlikely.

Why.....? Since he didn't have any problem 100% blaming Raphael for everything Heidi did (not unjustified, but I'm just saying he's suddenly changed his mind). I mean, if he'd said she's dangerous to him and his family that would've been another matter.

These are all runes that I don't remember seeing on the Shadowhunters' Wiki Rune Page. Please tell me more.

Jace: “Clary, you've been going nonstop since you came back. You need to take a minute.”

lol if only Jace would implement the same advice himself.

“Wow I suddeny remember I had a life before I was 10.”

German Dubbing: Yeah, the ones Consul Penhallow categorically ignored. Honestly. Who dubbs this shit. Wtf.

Listen I love everything about this scene. (Fun Fact: In the German Dubbing she says vampire addiction, not venom addiction lol as if she was addicted to vampires XD)

Alec Lightwood, best brother of the year. Btw he's been holding that title since birth. I also don't think Alec would ever judge Izzy for her addiction / look at her as if she's weak, so the fact that she thinks that says a lot about how the addiction affected her self-image.

Too bad Alec forgets this for the next few episodes and acts like a total tool in that Clave Investigation Thing, smh.

Good to know.

Haha that was witty.

Oooooh why don't they ask another warlock then? For example one who's actually always the smartest person in the room?? Who's also willing to work on this??? Just a thought tho, don't let me interrupt the Maruke Bonding. No, you know what? I hate the shipname Maruke, it's shit, so I'm calling it Luryse as it should have been called. Then again, when am I even gonna talk about that pairing? We shall see.

“Outrageous, just because people around me keep turning up dead! It's ridiculous, really, that they'd think I could have something to do with that. It's as if they're not aware this is a TV show and supporting characters die because *Moriarty Voice* THAT'S WHAT PEOPLE DO!”

“That what the kids call it these days when they get kicked out on their ass?” She literally says “From one exiled to another” so she clearly realized he's full of shit.

“And that's why in two episodes Imma get myself arrested by behaving like a dumbass and then chill in prison as if it's my greatest accomplishment.” Honestly Luke, so many No-s. I can't even.

“Wow I can't believe I have to see this Luryse bs up close.” Hah, now I used the right shipname and can move the f on from bashing that pairing. Sorry about that. I'm sleep deprived. That always makes me extra salty.

“When you're alpha you need to make the pack your first priority. Your personal life needs to take a back seat. And mine never did.” I applaud Luke for admitting he was a shit alpha because he didn't proritize the pack. Hindsight is 20/20.

Wow Luke so helpful <3<3<3 Just like I know and love you.

I also love how nobody questions that Heidi bit that mundane and then chilledly made a phone call at the scene of her Accords-violating crime. How frakking convenient.

But their runes aren't on the same side. Sloppy work. Also, if the illustrator obviouly takes artistic liberties, then the rune missing on the second pic doesn't have to mean anything. Maybe they just forgot to draw it. Then again this isn't even the most flimsy conclusion-making I've wittnessed on this show so I'll let it slide.

lol Jace and Jonathan are basically playing tug of war with Clary: Jonathan burning himself, Jace activating her healing rune XD

Ooooh brainless S1 Clary, how I have not missed you. Srsly now? Carve it out? That didn't work for Simon so why should it now? lol she should ask the seelie queen if she has some handy floor mosaic thingy in her courtyard to help with that.

In his defense, he moved.

It's not gonna work is what it is. Srsly how dumb are they? Why the hell does she think something so powerful can just be carved out?? Wtf.

Woooow they're using a rune removing device, color me impressed. I really thought they'd just put a scalpel to it. So, at least points for trying.

Uuuuh get some morphin, try again. I mean. But anyway.

*break up

......didn't she just break up with him because pack reasons? Where is that not a Shadow World Reason? Please explain. (Also choosing an unflattering screen cap of Simon because he annoys me? Absolutely. I am petty like that.) The easy way Simon accepts their break up really makes me wonder. If Maia hadn't said anything, would he have broken up with her? Since apparently things “changed” and they could “both” “feel” it. Honestly. He literally calls her his girlfriend at the start of the scene as if to draw attention to how ridiculous this is.

You know what, I don't even have the energy to rage about this. Their relationship was so great, they were so supportive of each other, they had great chemistry, great communication, they always stood by each other. And just because Sizzy has to be endgame there were suddenly weird-ass tension between them for no real reason – none that 3A Saia wouldn't have worked through like pros anyway – just so this break up wouldn't come out of absolutely nowhere. It's shit treatment of both their characters and their relationship and I'm just so exasperated with it all. (Also not the way to endear me to Sizzy. But at this point I feel like a broken record.)

Discount? It was free. Which I'm still finding super hard to believe by the way, that a werewolf establishment would just give out free food to vampires who don't even work there. But what do I know, right, I mean it's not like they just mentioned a few minutes ago how werewolves and vampires hate each other? Right?? Hahaha.

Wow. This actually takes the time to highlight that this break up wasn't as amicable as Simon thought. Maybe he thought that they were breaking up for human reasons, but Maia clearly feels she threw her relationship away for the pack and it's hard for her. And Simon's tirade wasn't really encouraging her to let him know that. I really appreciate that detail.

Other things I want to say: 1) I didn't like that Maia just flat out broke up with him. She should have informed him that she was going to step up for the pack and would have to prioritize that over their relationship and then leave it up to him if he wants to put up with that or not. By breaking up she made the choice for him. Her course of action is ic, I'm not critizising that, but from like, a personal stand point I don't like it. 2) Foreshadowing: Since her whole pack gets slaughtered, if that would have been the only reason to break up with Simon she coulda just gotten back together with him lol. Haha sorry I'm trash. I know.

Wow he's really dumb. He knows Heidi's brand of crazy and still he doesn't realize this was a trap. He said himself that Heidi must have done something for the Preator to be after her, and when the Praetor tells him she's been leaving copses left and right he...... takes this as his cue to ally himself with Heidi??? Wtf?????? Does he not believe what Jordan said? Again, he suspected something like that himself and since the Praetor are playing at being the Downworlder Police they wouldn't just make something like that up with no proof. The heck. I don't get you, Boss Vampire Guy.

Also, thumbs down for the Praetor, if they'd just told them their source was Heidi herself (on the phone) this could have been prevented. But, ugh. With how things are I can at least kinda buy that no working communication between vampire clan and Praetor exists.

Still, if the Praetor wants to be accepted as some kind of Shadow World Institution they should really work on their manners.

.................................................

I I don-- I can't. *sigh* I can't believe I just had to watch this with my own two eyes. Have they not been trained for a case like this? A fellow shadowhunter injured in the field? That activating the healing rune should be the first thing you do? Before lovingly prying information from the dying person?? I mean, if that's not Plot Convenience then I don't know what is. Sure, he needs to give them a snippet of info, but not too much. But please, please, couldn't writers have found a way for this that didn't make them look like the stupidest of idiots in the entire frikkin world?! Wtf. WTF. I can't believe it.

Uuuuuuh how did she know how to turn those things if all she had to work with was Don't use brute force?? Do I have to understand that?

“You brought coffee, after all.”

Look she's so ashamed she even turned away from the screen haha. Also it's so refreshing to see grown ass people approach a relationship like idiotic teens. (Yeah, that was sarcastic.)

“And right now I wanna do you.” Hahahaha sorry, too good to pass up, you can bet your ass imma turn this into a dumb comic XD

“I love you, Clary. And I'll love you until I die. And if there's a life after this I'll love you then, too.”

Okay, I wanted to roll my eyes at their love confession, but what Jace said was actually really sweet <3

Alec: All our people were accounted for at the time of the murder. Izzy: We think it was a Clave hit.

Oh couldn't have been one of the millions of Shadowhunters from another Institute? No, I'm sure Alec checked that on their neat little Shadowhunter Intranet, that all other Shadowhunters all over the workd were accounted for as well. Honestly.

Also, Maryse says “By the angel,” but in the German Dubbing she says “What the angel” which makes it seem as if Shadowhunters curse by replacing dirty words with “angel” and just... what the angel XD

Why the hell are they all so obsessed with Latin? Ugh. Exhausting hobby.

Btw lol, please rewatch that scene, the background music is weirdly reminiscent of the Stranger Things Theme hahahaha. (Also omg I'm peeking into the German dubbing and it doesn't even make SENSE hahaha what the shit.)

LOL that's like the soulmate trope but in painful XD basically the creepy incest edition XD But honestly can we appreciate what a nice hand Jonathan has with a knife and with his left hand?? Prodigy.

This is it, the final proof that they actually all live at the Jade Wolf hahahha.

...................................? Why the f is she happy to see Jordan? Last time they saw each other she clearly stated she hated him?? Do I need to understand?? Oh right. In the books Maia and Jordan get back together. Right. Stupid, why am I even surprised by this??

Wtf isn't he the clan leader? Why the hell is he acting so submissively to Heidi all of a sudden? Literally half a day ago he threw her out of his clan, knowing his place. And now he's like a puppet on her strings. Wtf. But I guess that happens when you treat characters as plot devices. They get inconsistent even if they only have two scenes. *sigh*

Awwww would you look at that, werewolves and vampires fighting with fists like mundanes. (Okay some of them had like, daggers, but where are the fangs and the claws? Honestly.)

Okay I did her injustice in my trailer reaction since this is a vamp and a legitimate fight situation.

Wow that actually surprised me. But Jordan also dies in the books so, oops. Just didn't think they'd skip the getting together.

WOW that really surprised me. I thought Maia would challenge him and they'd have an epic fight to the death or something. (Also wtf Griffin guy, what's with that creeper face.)

To be honest I find it hard to believe that Maia acts like this. Scared out of her mind, yeah sure. But she acts helpless, and she's never been that. When she got that pipe thing I thought she'd use it as a stake. Using it to block the door is smart, too, but why didn't she get another to have a stake? Her whole posture, uselessly hangig over Jordan screams damsel in distress and I don't like it at all.

Edit: I had certain fears how this plotline would be developed in 3x14 which thankfully didn't come true, but my conflicted opinion on this ending scene remains.

Anyway let’s take a moment and appreciate Maia’s Killer Boots.

BTW watched the 3x14 trailer and just.... what. Why the f would Magnus ask Lorenzo of all people for help? He can't be trusted. As if he wouldn't use that opportunity to break Magnus even further! WTF! Where's Catarina? Oh, let me guess, another Drunk Doctor Conference *epic eyeroll*

#shadowhunters #3x13 #clary fray #magnus bane #alec lightwood #jace wayland #isabelle lightwood #simon lewis #maia roberts #luke garroway #maryse lightwood #kyle #heidi #reaction

[ira-posts-blog1]

THE RETIREE

THE RETIREE

At the time when terrorism gained fame in the country, the northern people became the first victims of the forms of violence that came. We had spent two years already as special postings in the barracks, just after our training as counter terrorists. The period of training was one of the most rigourous moments we had faced as humans, but of course, we were yet to see the reality of being soldiers. This was how it all began.

One beautiful evening before the usual tattoo, our unit had received a signal to move to a town that had been ravaged by insurgents in a way that sprung a nationwide outcry. In a short while, we were a muster of agile young men who held unto their weapons anxiously-kalashnikovs, machine guns, and all other necessary military paraphernalia. Jo’dan had mounted a Machine gun on the roof of one of the army vans that conveyed us. He was up there kitted in a bullet proof vest, a helmet and several rounds of ammunition that were slung around him, the rest tucked in magazines. He had struggled to the top of the van but for his training, strength and rare height, such position at which he sat and the weight of metals on him is enough to sink a civilian into distress. We had travelled through three states up towards the Sahel Savannah near the Republic of Chad, until we were now faced with the desert terrain a few kilometers away from Maiduguri towards Bama, where at last we would anchor. The winds soughed across the plain and I watched as it tossed the fine dust on our faces while we sat opposite each other silently but in expectation. All of us had only shot at the range and were expected to kill this time. It was also evident that some soldiers like me wondered of the possibility of returning alive. They were anxious even in the way they held their rifles. One was already fiddling with the trigger in a muzzled down position, locking and unlocking the safety panel, until a sergeant yelled out a command, and he stopped.  In our van, was a platoon of the least army officers, privates and Lance corporals and a sergeant who had drowned himself in strong whiskey, saying random orders, but for one which was a necessary order to the soldier who erstwhile played with his rifle. The winds blew on us from time to time and it turned out to be a gift against the heat that greeted us. In a few instances, we all got into high spirits whenever a soldier crooned the usual military morale songs.

After a while through the distance, we finally arrived at the small town that looked like it has been recently razed, and it was where we would camp. There were fires still burning unfortunate buildings and shells and shrapnel from monstrous weapons littered the small town. The hot air reeked upon our nostrils and the Captain ordered all soldiers to mask against the stench and possible poison in the air.  The rest of the inhabitants of the town had fled on seeing our troop. They had thought of us to be the terrorists who usually raided villages and towns dressed in military uniform as we were. We had all alighted and were strung out into columns as we received brief orders from the captain pertaining to our charge the next day. It was into a forest that lay northeast off the boundary of the neighbouring country. The army geographers had read the size of the forest on a cartographic scale which gave a size of 686 square kilometers; a forest wide enough to swallow the whole country’s military manpower.  When the people noticed from afar, the regimentation in our mode of operation, they returned, some to their homes to salvage belongings, and others to the temporary camp for the displaced which was a ramshackle primary school built before independence.  It was going to be our first ever warlike encounter. The night had come and we kept watch around our tactically setup camp. The other soldiers were at the Maiduguri theatre, being prepared as backups. There were soldiers who had misbehaved and so were punished with a marathon guard duty. They had intimidated a pretty young lady who helped to evacuate dead bodies because one of them liked her. At the time we set up our base, they had been deployed to cover fire for the emergency management agencies that did the evacuation.

Every soldier least expected the kind of cold that rocked the evening at our base. Different tents that hosted ready men were lit up with small fires and the tents shook as the winds seldom howled. Other soldiers were stationed strategically around the perimeter of the base while the ones on punishment were asked to man the checkpoint which was a few yards away from the bamboo stalk that we constructed as the gates of the base. They were there, six of them and Jo’dan was among them unfortunately. He was physically absent at the time of the offence, but because he was part of the squad, it was regarded as a one body offence and so all of them were punished. They were there by the roadside in the cold and alone except for the improvised fire that feebly warmed them and the drums that stood in an interwoven manner to slow down vehicles for check. Although the check point was there, there was no civilian car that passed at that time because of the curfew that tortured the locals. The soldiers were there, hungry and bitter at the punishment they served, especially the innocent ones like Jo’dan.

It was at around half past the hour of eight when the town had slept except for the soldiers at the checkpoint and also for those of us at the base. I had just concluded my two hours guard duty at the gate and was in the tent to rest for two hours before my next duty when my phone rang. It was Jesse, a lance corporal and a friend of ours. His voice sounded mockingly low as against that of an authoritative soldier that I have known for quite some time. He had whispered to me that they were in trouble, especially Jo’dan because of how quickly he vented his anger and I could be their saviour. I had quickly wandered through thoughts for the possible atrocities that could land the soldiers in trouble again. I had braced up against the final thought that Jo’dan had shot a civilian who may not have obeyed the curfew order. But we would have heard the sound of a shot, and also, I wouldn’t possibly be their savior in such a situation-a private soldier. In the midst of my thoughts, Corporal Jesse added.

“…your knowledge of Hausa language may save us the….”

“Ah!”

I sighed out a lot of relief at the small nature of the problem if my knowledge of a language was enough to save them.

“Sir, let me speak to Jo’dan”

I suddenly requested, in order to ensure the veracity of my friend’s situation. On the background, I could hear more than one person speaking at once, and when at last I had spoken to Jo’dan, he spoke vaguely and tiredly as if he had been engaged in a lot of exercise, and I could sense a lot of distress in his voice. It was apparent that he gasped for air seriously at intervals in his speech and was really in need of my assistance. At this time I did not realize that I was already at the main entrance of the base heading towards the checkpoint, with a phone stuck to my ear. At a point during the call, there was no one talking to me, so I tried to make a guess of the cacophony at the background. But as a matter of experience, I knew that there might have been a contest with maybe a criminal. The soldiers at the gate were alert on seeing me pass in such great haste and so they were concerned as to where I was going. After a while, I was able to explain a series of lies at my risk to the intelligence officers, who allowed me to return in five minutes upon delivery of the service I had explained. In no time, I was at the check point. A bright torchlight had spotted me from a short distance and I shouted a word in esprit de corps. When they heard me, they welcomed me in the most respectful manner as would be done to a superior officer. They were all standing, red eyed and defeated and asides their tired looking faces, I saw the problem-a disgrace to the Special Forces unit of the armed forces.

“Jo’dan!”

I called out in surprise. Jo’dan was wet with sweat as he jumped around like a frog. Sitting on a bench on the other hand was another tired looking man, but this one as a result of age. He sat quietly staring at us in a way that one would wait for trouble. He looked at us endlessly as the soldiers explained to me what happened and took a few glances at the frog jumping Jo’dan.

“He has been doing this for almost an hour now, Jesse spoke. Please help us to beg him in Hausa since you understand the language and can speak a little. He behaves as if he doesn’t understand English and Pidgin…”

“…Only Hausa!”

The other soldier added angrily.

“Abeg go beg am. He fit hear you.”

After I heard from all the soldiers, I set out bravely towards the man who had already stretched one of his legs on the bench and looked at me as I approached him. He gazed at me unperturbedly, and his face which creased along with age appeared to have smiled all the while I took to greet him in Hausa language. He looked as though a friendly old man in the way he responded to my greetings. He had literally asked about everything that pertained to my life as a way of responding to my greeting, starting from my welfare at work. It is normal of the Hausa greeting process, but for what he had done to Jo’dan, there could not have been an iota of sympathy in the path of the old man. After the lengthy exchange of pleasantry, he might have been pacified, so he did not allow me to plead. He shook my hands and I felt a surge down my spine. He then asked me to touch my friend Jo’dan. I kept saying profound appreciations to the old man as I hurried to Jo’dan and touched him. That was what saved Jo’dan from the seemingly endless frog jump. The old man stood up, dusted his tailored attire, adjusted his hula and volunteered to tell me what happened.

First of all, I can speak English very well. I am the headmaster of a primary school which is presently the temporary camp of the internally displaced people in this community. I am also a retired captain in the Nigerian army, and the first military officer this community had ever produced. So you see, I have led in wars and have medals, and that means I am a powerful retiree-both physically and spiritually.

He grinned at me mischievously and continued:

As a Chief Security Officer in this community, a position I gave myself, I have trained a couple of trusted young men in intelligence gathering. Just this evening, they reported to me that the bad boys have plans to return, and of course their first target is you-the soldiers. I can assure you that they have the mightiest of weapons and they are ruthless. I have already lost two of my fine boys to them.

At this time, the other soldiers were interested in hearing the old man. So they moved closer to us.

So, as a matter of security and urgency, I decided to come to your base to relate the vital information since I had no way of contacting any of your commanding officers. This was the reason I damned the curfew in order to come. Now to why I have punished this young man;

On my arrival at this check point, as harmless as you can see me now, your colleague did not care to know me or why I have come, so he asked me to frog jump, at my age-I am 72 my friend. I tried to explain to him my reason for coming this late, but he did not listen. So, I feigned ignorant at what he asked me to do by virtue of not comprehending the English language. Your friend flared up and in a fit of rage he advanced towards me, and in an effort to teach me how to frog jump, he then found himself in trouble. I tell you, you soldiers are still young and have not seen another side of being soldiers.

After his narration, the old man clucked for a while, nodded sadly and grinned once more. He then tapped me on the back and left crawling into the dark. I looked at Jo’dan who had been lifted onto a camp bed and was resting off such an unusual treatment. When I stood by him, he chuckled and exclaimed bitterly.

“Soldier man has seen another one! Soldier man don suffer!”

The next day was going to be our charge and I hoped seriously that our enemies were fully humans, and not like the retiree.

*hula- is a typical Hausa hat.

[smollandtoll]

HC: The Beautiful Goalie Problem

First order of business: As this is the first Gabriel Landeskog/Tyson Barrie headcanon we are posting we thought you should all enjoy a PRIMER on why they are amazing. You should go explore their tag on AO3 if you are thirsty for more Tall Bossy Europeans banging Slightly Neurotic Canadians With A Sweet Tooth (do we have a type? We might have a type). Other than that you just need to know that Gabe is a Babe and Tyson is cute as a woodland creature. They flirt a lot.

Second order of business: How familiar are you with Lithuanian and sometimes San Jose Sharks Goalie and professional model Mantas Armalis? Here are some photos:

(PSA because we know literally nothing about Mantas Armalis other than that he is beautiful and unashamed of it, he’s a goalie, and he is Lithuanian - we’ve decided to characterize him as like genuinely sweet and secure in his masculinity but Straight)

Our HC starts like this, Armalis is playing for the Sharks (we don’t think he actually is right now), the Avs have a night out after an East coast game and manage to catch a Sharks game in progress at the bar.

We are jumping straight into a universe in which Tyson has a well-known mancrush on Gabe. It’s not even that different from reality, with the calling him a chiseled viking stallion and all. But this is a legit, slightly despairing crush that Tyson is actually pretty decent at dealing with and only occasionally pops its head up when Gabe’s hair looks particularly good or Avs media makes him write a Valentine’s Day card ffs. But Tyson is a fairly flirty guy, and has little to no filter, especially when he’s flustered so no one really takes him that seriously, especially not Gabe. It’s like the ongoing tradition of both complimenting and chirping Gabe is his trademarked ambiguously gay thing. As a gay dude in hockey that would pretty much have to be your specialty - that or utter awkward silence. But still, flirting is a two way street. We’re looking at you, Valentines writing, smiley-eyes giving, clap-backing GABE. But anyway - Tyson has been (casually, low-key, manageably) hung up on Gabe. UNTIL.

The second Tyson sees Armalis he’s just struck dead, eyes wide, beer forgotten in front of him.

“Sweet baby Jesus, I didn't know men could be that beautiful. Like he's making Gabe look like a cabbage patch kid.” He probably says it way too loud and garners the interest of everyone around them including Gabe who heard his name slandered and leans in to see what’s up.

"Gabe move your giant head, you're blocking the view of that beautiful man." Tyson doesn’t even notice the way everyone is looking at them with surprise and amusement mixed with confusion. It seemed to all of them that Tyson was a one beautiful man kind of man but apparently he could be swayed by even more impressive cheekbones.

No one has ever ‘trumped Gabe’s hotness’ before, and Gabe personally finds it pretty amusing at first, the way that Tyson is drooling openly about this other guy. But as the night wears on he gets kind of tired of hearing about how blue and piercing the goalie’s eyes are, how his lips are just so, so perfect. And he’s literally a model!  And an NHL player! Husband material right there.

It definitely goes on like that for a couple weeks, blooming into full crush territory, Tyson occasionally spouting about that beautiful goalie, how he even looks amazing behind a full face mask. The boys all tease him about about his ‘cali boyfriend’, and then continue teasing as he protest by only making increasingly ludicrous claims about Lithuanian goalie’s hotness and starts to turn redder and redder (as he is wont to do). One part of his embarrassment is because of the guys teasing him, and one part by his own blunderingly obvious crush. It’s like Great Wall of China sized by now, like you know when someone tells you to stop talking about something because you’re being annoying but you’re obsessed and you just physically can’t? That’s what he’s like.

The Boys: SO COLD TYS, YOU'RE SO LOVE EM AND LEAVE EM, JUST THE NEXT BEEFY EUROPEAN HUNK YOU CAN FIND, EH??? (towel snaps)

Meanwhile Gabe kind of sits in the wings and gets further and further wound up about it. He knows he’s irrationally fuming, it wasn’t like Tyson really meant anything about these comments, OR about the comments he’d always said about Gabe, but by now they were routine and comfortable. Also Gabe has definitely rarely encountered better looking men than himself, or at least men that other people would be more attracted to, so he’s really not used to the sensation of being sincerely jealous.

The tension in the locker room is probably palpable, Gabe would try SO HARD to laugh it off, "Haha, yes, we all knew about this giant crush Tyson had on me that I in no way reciprocated and that it has moved on to greener pastures, haha."

BUT HE RECIPROCATED HARD. Oh did he reciprocate. He was just waiting for the timing to be right you know?! With the season and all things were delicate and he didn’t want to screw anything up but they seemed to have been circling each other! They were getting closer and closer to some resolution to all the complicated feelings building between them - and BAM suddenly Tys is pining for this other guy? And he’s a world class hottie who would be lucky to have someone like Tyson being in love with them?????

Tys by now is like campaigning all of his contacts for guys that know him or are on the sharks so he can introduce/endearingly embarrass himself (also he’s a little bit self deprecatingly going for guys way out of his league (in his head) so they're unattainable and he can never have love because he doesn't believe he deserves love - like he knows he’s the funny sidekick type not the leading man type etc. and like it’s just safer to hardcore flirt with guys that would never even look at you than to actually try for something and maybe not get it).

Gabe has moved on from pasting uncomfortable smiles on his face and swallowing his jealousy to pasting uncomfortable smiles on his face and openly moping in heartbroken despair when he thinks no one is looking.

But Nate was looking, because Nate knew, Nate knew.  He has 100% been privy to all the times Gabe like took a too-drunk-off-his-ass-from-a-few-coolers Tys home and tenderly tucked him in and made sure he was comfy and not gonna vom -- ABOVE AND BEYOND CAP DUTIES GABE. Nate knows about your dirty Tyson loving secret.

So Gabe is moping hard as we already stated, and Tys is still frothing over another dude - and secretly he's relieved to have another crush, because the thing with Gabe was getting embarrassing for him, it was growing legs and starting not to be able to be just shrugged off. Other people were starting to notice that he was being a little too genuine with his comments with Gabe.

But it’s been long enough, Gabe is tired of moping and he wants to move on, he wants to find peace but he’s never going to find it without addressing his feelings and directly facing what is happening between them so what he gets all his feelings boiled down to sounds like:

I was reading into our friendship...seeing things that weren't there...like actual affection, and I was just a convenient piece of ass, I guess.

Still feeling hurt and upset about that, but still loving Tys, because he's a genuine dude - but also just trying to reconcile the things he's now hearing Tys blatantly say about this other guy - those things he used to awkwardly stifle when Gabe came into the room in his towel and shower sandals.

Gabe is HURT. Tys is in DENIAL/SELF LOATHING. Nate is so TIRED.

There would then have to be a lot of Nate like meddling/trying to get them to use their words. But, as it goes, anger/resentment would probably mix into the sludge of emotions and trigger Gabe back around to envy, making him posture and be Extra Babe™ and kind of torture Tys. Which, unfortunately, only makes him re-double his focus on Armalis.

But that, in turn probably makes Armalis notice Tys because he is legitimately so cute and also all these tweets about him are so flattering and sweet! And not-gay flirting is what Tys excels at, like he knows most of the dudes he flirts with aren’t gay, and he’s not gonna pressure them, but it’s just for fun and they like it cause he’s such a bro and everyone likes compliments right?

Anyway so Armalis responds - he flirts back! No harm in flirting! He's not actually gay but crushes are real! No reason to be rude! Maybe a photo! Maybe they could hang out!  

So it’s just a chill mild flirty friendship with the added bonus of maybe helping Tyson acclimatise to super hot euro dudes.

(The Sharks social media and the Avs social media have been exchanging eyeball emojis about all this and swapping DMs about trying to figure out how to use this friendship to a publicity advantage)

But then Armalis posts a couple of instagram selfies of them pre-game next time the sharks are in town. Cue Gabe losing his fucking MIND about it. At first he's like “BRB, I'm gonna go jump off the roof of the Pepsi Center.” but then he's like “....you know what? NO. THAT'S MY CHIPMUNK. YOU CAN'T HAVE HIM. I'M GOING TO BEAM ALL OF MY THOUSAND WATT VIKING SUN GOD FURY AT YOU MORTAL.”

But first there’s a lot of venting to long suffering Nate and probably whatever Swedish phone tree exists in the NHL (don’t tell us there’s not a Swedish phone tree, if there’s a Russian knitting circle there’s a Swedish phone tree).

Swedish group chat probably:

Horny: No sympathy, you gotta lock down your man

Karlsson:...haha!! he's so much better looking than you!!

Backstrom: please stop adding me to these things

Lundqvist: 😏🍆

So, probably, after he’s ranted a lot about it, the wind goes out of Gabe’s sails and he wilts hard and thinks he's lost his babe-aliciousness and gets real depressed about it, y’know that thundercloud disassociating in the locker room and feeling sorry for himself.

Tyson definitely notices that, and probably goes to Nate with a, "Woah wait WTF is happening with Gabe?" and Nate manfully resists beating his head into something concrete and replies with "Nice of you to notice you broke his heart there, bud"

Tyson: HOW? I NEVER HAD SAID HEART!

Nate: (withering look)

But also, Tys and Armalis have grown an Actual Friendship™ and Tys probably tells him all about what’s happening with Gabe, and just all about Gabe in general, and how he is like actually probably legitimately in love with him.

And Armalis with all the cliche wisdom of a usual hockey bro: You miss 100% of the shots you don’t take, you know.

Tyson: are you quoting Gretzky at me?

Armalis: Go get your man already!

And then Tys has to dig Gabe out of his new den of sadness and candy wrappers and tell him he loves him and wants to tease him forever and have his giant headed babies and stuff. And like, that’s love, because think of the birth canal. Gabe: TYSON-

BONUS:

Tyson: (Dreamy sigh) what do you think lithuanian dirty talk sounds like

Nate: BRUTES.

Tyson: What?! Don't tell me you haven't watched Russian porn Nate, because I'd call you a LIAR.

#gabe/tyson #hockey rpf #if anyone tags the avalanche account in this #it'll get deleted immediately #ok? #RESPECT THE 4TH WALL #headcanons from the icy void

[caiiouts-blog]

BEWARE DANGEROUS DEVIANTART USER

! ! ! !

please do not go out and harass the people in this journal. they've decided to leave deviantART for the time being, and could return as a better person.

----

☆ . ☆ . ☆

hello! it's dazai typing this out and I just wanted to let you know that I only felt this was necessary to bring to peoples attention due to the current treatment that has been received over the past few weeks. this is my side of what happened! cass herself has made her side of the story (and it's quite different) and it will be featured at the bottom of the journal.

☆ . ☆ . ☆

----

rylands accounts

(primary)   blackbear666 deadmp3 poacherss

(secondary)   hellisten autisticgod wolfga-ng prorobloxplayer ashfurrs

Dazai's Version:

Ryland has been an almost extreme experience for me, his unruly behaviour getting more and more out of hand throughout the three years i've known him. he would pretend to be my friend (according to him) out of "pity" (despite feeling no sympathy) for me yet continued to trash-talk me to his ex and a few others, even during while i was venting to him. he's laughed BOTH times my girlfriends left me, picking on me during times like this while PRETENDING TO BE MY FRIEND.

he's leaked my "deadname" to his ex, told secrets about his exes in a malicious manner, promoted teasing of them and he even claimed to have never loved his ex during the last relationship they had together, taking every moment he could to hurt him. he told me that he purposefully put my main kin on his kin list just to get with me because his ex suggested it.. This is a petty way to "get back" at someone imho

around the time he would pick on me with his ex, he created a callout on me claiming things that i was "a fake tranny," and that i "never payed for my commissions," due to me taking my time to pay $18.00 USD despite having payed off around 5-10 artists at the time. due to the way he pressured me I had to put the other commission on hold, cancel his and pay another artist off just to feel safe about the whole situation. Thankfully in the end the commission problems were sorted out.

** in a call, he mentioned that it was (by memory) "silly of him to have done that, and that he understands that I was trying to pay off the larger thing first."

>> I also have the original callout he made on me saved, if anyone would be interested in seeing it. <<

during this time i felt at unease, I noted him mentioning how i was feeling (i was crying, shaking, bloody anxious, etc.) and at this point i wanted to make another account just to get rid of this backlash. i made the mistake of uploading my main character to my new toyhouse which linked to my new account and he used that to comment on my toyhouse AND my deviantart profile with this comment:

let me explain the situation in that comment!

1.) i called him a psychopath lol

2.) i blocked his boyfriend (ex) on my new account (that i avoided showing anyone) in hopes i could have a fresh start. me blocking his boyfriend caused no harm to him, as we apparently were not mutual.

3.) his boyfriend was trying to avoid mentioning that he had shown me his vent account, leading ryland (kaspur) to believe that I was the one that shared his vent account. he later found out that he infact was wrong, and mad enough at his boyfriend to make him suicidal. I don't know the private details, this is what ryland himself told me. 4. he also used this whole "autism diagnosis" against me despite having been undiagnosed / re-evaluated on the diagnosis with his knowledge of such.

/ / / / / / / / ☆ / / / / / / / /

some time passed and things settled down, until he and his ex broke up. i mentioned something about his ex ( i think i was supporting his ex somehow? the comments are hidden / gone ) and he spammed my profile with 4-6 aggressive comments that he's removed recently, all that is left is us having a tense conversation. with this, we decided to add eachother on discord to figure out what kind of situation ryland had been left in, how his ex treated him and began to enjoy talking to eachother once more.

Time passed and we grew closer, eventually dating. It started out smoothly, we cared about eachother and wanted the best for eachother, but as time went on, teasing remarks began to feel more harmful and fights began to occur more often. Ryland would push my buttons, dig into my weaker side of myself (unintentionally or intentionally, i do not know) and it caused me to become very unhealthy. He was assuming how i felt about situations and tried to one-up me. He literally told me that "i dont rely on you for affection, dont rely on you for attention, dont rely on you for help" and how "I'll dedicate time to Cass, preserve every conversation I had with her," Due to this, I began to get very disconnected with myself and needed proper treatment for the situation I was in. he vented about me and how he "hated me" during our relationship. He even ASKED ME TO ABUSE HIM. LOOK AT THIS:

https://sta.sh/2ejxr4mb7l9?edit=1

and to add the icing on the cake, he would threaten to slit my wrists if I ignored him, and if it was meant to be some kind of sick joke, he made it sound very serious with the tone he used it in.

Can I just mention that.. if you ask someone to do something, it usually means they haven't done it, right? Not only this, but (while he was drunk) he was begging me to have sex with him, tried to pressure me into having sexual conversations with him because "I did with my other girlfriends" and wouldn't stop bringing it up during that night, it hurt me. And what hurts me more is that these conversations happened in a no longer existing groupchat meaning the most I can give you guys is my word.

Not to mention, cass' therapists have mentioned that ryland comes off to them as an abusive, controlling and sometimes even predatory person. One of them even referred Cass this document as something they feel connects with ryland:

/ / / / / / / / ☆ / / / / / / / /

For the past few weeks, ryland has been venting about me in group-chats and pm, as well as making very malicious status posts targeting (and name-dropping) both cass and i.

screenshots of his vents

- Ryland has yet to state what makes him believe I gas-lighted him and abused him, only claims these two titles. i'm still waiting for his reasoning behind these claims ***

- I'm not a Satanist, I do not have any beliefs in religious-related subjects, and never have been. I've questioned it, but in the end never went along with it

- "im more mature with situations like fights" ... that doesn't seem evident in the multiple times you have:

Spammed various people's profiles with hateful messages and deaththreats

Using a wide array of slurs (whore, nigga, cunt) against people

Making fun of their diagnosis's and coping methods, such as autism or age regression

- We decided to leave Ryland because he was making us unhealthy

- Ryland has NO RIGHT to assume what happened in my relationships, there was no pressure involved in any of my relationships

- The problems I 'pressured' him for were ones RELATING TO THE RELATIONSHIP. It was ideal for me to know the problems someone may have with me in hopes to change to make them comfortable and healthier.

*** this is the only thing he uses to back his claims.

"i talked to a therapist someone who KNOWS WHAT IT IS and what abuse is n shit"

/ / / / / / / / ☆ / / / / / / / /

This is a link of him harassing people, spamming people as well as dictating emotions..

extra information

Also, some texts he sent to cass which concerned me.

Cass's Version:

This is going to be the hardest thing I've ever done ;_; because I have never done this to someone before and I hope I never do this again. He was my best friend and I cared for him. But I'm sick and tired of being harassed, name dropped, etc, just because I left him to better myself. I'm sick of him making me look like an awful person just because I left. He makes my mistakes look like the worst thing that has ever happened to him. He won't leave us alone and I don't want to be walked all over by him anymore, not again.

He manipulates the truth:

Last year, Ryland was so stressful to handle.

After I left him, he made a massive call out journal on me. Because I stopped being his friend.  Let that sink in, I stopped being his friend. He called me his best friend, he even said to me that I was "better than Nichii" (now known as Dazai) and you know, you don't fucking attack your so called 'best friend' after they leave you, all I did was stop being his friend.

"Oh but he was your bestfriend! Why are you calling him out?!" He won't shut the fuck up about us, he won't leave us alone. He is so spiteful.

Even if Ryland was going through so much at that time, I needed to look after myself. I don't owe him my friendship. I DON'T owe him anything. I was also going through a hard time, I was being bullied at school but oh, I guess your problems were more important then my problems. I was dealing with my own shit, I didn't have to keep babying you because I was so special to you.

I know I don't owe you anything. I did tell him that I felt like I owed him something (I don't remember the exact thing I said) but even if I did say that I owed him something, I don't.

When I was his friend last year it stressed me so much, the counselors I went too could see how our friendship was hurting my mental health... it was just unhealthy what we were and I acted differently because it was affecting my mental health so much. They wanted me to leave him. He kept calling me 'perfect' and a lot of other things, it's been a year so I don't quite remember things clearly but that is one of the things that stuck with me. Everything he said to me made me feel like I had to be the perfect friend for him, I had to be like some sort of knight in shining armor. So I acted differently towards him. I let him walk all over me. I let him hurt me (unintentionally / intentionally?) just so I can be good enough for him.

He didn't force me to act differently, but it's the impact he had on me. I was so depressed, I had to be perfect. I had to be the best just for him. I couldn't do it.

Everyone around me was literally telling me to leave him INCLUDING my therapists, that really says something right? Everyone saw who he really was except me because I considered him my FRIEND.

So back to the massive call out post on me, because of the things he said about me on that call out are now the reason why I think I'm such an awful person,(and because I used to be bulliedl) I know I'm not. He demonized me. He made himself look like an angel. I did do stupid things out of emotion but he did way worse to me, he attacked me, he made himself look like he did nothing bad and I was just some evil person.

Sadly, I didn't screenshot / save anything about the journal (my friends have witnessed it and they all called it bullshit because everything he said about me was false and they are the people who truly know who I am) but I do have a comment which is still up on his old account which is basically all the things he said about me but not as bad.

https://comments.deviantart.com/4/39888493/4226447654

-He was previously known as Kaspur

Okay, first of all I did not leave him over a bee.

I left him because of how depressed he made me(he was tearing at my mental health unintentionally) and everyone(including therapists) told me to leave him. So, I did. I shouldn't of said "it will be okay" it was stupid of me to do, but I was panicking. HE WAS SPAMMING MY PAGE, HE WAS SPAMMING ME ON SKYPE, HE WOULDN'T STOP, WHAT THE HELL WAS I SUPPOSE TO DO?

I do not hurt people intentionally, I never want to hurt people. Everyone who knows me knows that I don't. He never knew me! He really should fucking stop assuming how people felt. He isn't right just because he says it, he never knew how I felt and he still does this to this very day. YOU DO NOT KNOW HOW OTHERS FEEL.

You know what, I did leave him for a month because I needed personal space at that time I was not 'trying to get the fuck away from him'. He was unbelievably dependent on me and I couldn't handle it, I couldn't even handle myself, so how the hell was I suppose to handle him?

He made it seem like I made him be so 'attached' and so 'clingy'. I did nothing. I knew what I was to him but that doesn't mean shit. That doesn't mean I have to stay and be his friend. I am not obligated to be his friend just because he felt like that towards me. Leaving him doesn't make me a bad person.

"I told him i WILL NEVER LEAVE YOU"

He asked me to promise him that I would not leave him. That is unhealthy. I remember the day very clearly because it made me feel uneasy. I did say those things but I felt very very pressured into doing so. I mean, if someone who relied on you heavily asked you that, how would you react? "I can't promise you that I can stay forever/ I can't promise you I won't leave."

"when he gave his opinion about a friend coming back to me (she left me for 5 months and i didnt know why) I TOTALLY DIDNT LISTEN TO HIM! HIS OPINION DOESNT MATTER RIGHT?!!?"

How dare you assume my personal situation you barely knew anything about. I wasn't going to leave my best friend just because you told me too. She did not hurt me like how you hurt me.

Also, by the way, if your friend hurt/upset you and you vent about how you feel at that moment, that doesn't make it a fucking back stab. We all say things at the heat of the moment, and I suppose what Ryland did back then was 'heat of the moment' but it was a major overreaction. I remember he'd talk about it for months, he terrified me. You don't DEMONIZE someone you called your 'best friend' just because they leave you.

He also harassed me. He spammed my fucking profile. He still does this to people. I know he spammed his ex. I still have those screenshots. He used multiple accounts. He made 3 new accounts just to keep spamming me.

https://xxcasandraloverxx.deviantart.com/

http://xxcasandrasenpaixx.deviantart.com/

http://xxcasandrasuckedmexx.deviantart.com/

I was in a call with my best friend at that moment and I was crying my eyes out! He saw all the things they said about me he helped me hide the comments because there was so much.

Overall, he and his friends used 12 accounts just to spam me. Pathetic. Here's the accounts because I reported it:

(lol dazai was one of them xD abuse)

+ the fact that he used my real name to create three of these spam accounts made me feel absolutely terrible

If anyone wants proof of the spam, I'll gladly give it to you. I have it saved on my old phone.

This was last year but from what I and Dazai can tell, he has barely improved and has gotten worse. He STILL manipulates situations into something more 'evil' then what they really were.

Me and Dazai would call and play minecraft but we kept it from him because we didn't want to make him jealous, he was very jealous about me and Dazai being friends.

So we were all in a call together and after I went to bed, Dazai accidentally told him that we had been calling and playing minecraft and Ryland makes it out that this is one of the terrible things Dazai has done. He lied about playing minecraft with me.

In a journal he said this, "38. What happened? we dated. i got lied to three times. he made me look like the bad guy cus i was mad at him for lying. he left me.  haha, so what was that mr "i love ryland" thnx 4 faking it"

He made you look like the bad guy? You made yourself look like the bad guy, you overreacted to him not telling you that we played minecraft together. Like, you lie yourself, you told me you lied about our friendship or whatever the fuck you mean't a few months ago. So... you can lie, but if we lie we're the worst person to have ever existed? Grow up. Just because you're 13 doesn't give you an excuse to act immature. Sure, it plays a roll because you're young but... you know what you do is bad and you STILL DO IT. You're nearly 14.

----

The counselors/therapists I've gone to ALL say he's manipulative and they all think he's a predator. I tell/show them what he has said to me and that's what they have all said. All (I'm not exaggerating) of the therapists don't even believe he is 13 because of the way he acts. My recent therapist thinks what he did to me was a "power and control thing" and she said he is very manipulative.

She read them out loud to me and I was shocked because some of them were spot on for example: Minimize/deny/blame

The descriptions under the headlines are just examples of what someone could do.

He DEFINITELY minimizes the things he has done wrong since he's done it with me(you can see it up there), he did it with Dazai (look at his side of the story) and I'm sure he does it with everyone who wrongs him.

-He knows he does bad things but, he never changes? He told me he didn't want to change.

-He blamed the things he did to Dazai on his ex.

I didn't want to believe any of it, he was my friend. I didn't want to believe he was manipulative. I was ignorant because I was blinded by the fact that he was my friend. I know he isn't intentionally manipulative, or at least, I hope he isn't intentionally manipulative. But IT'S HIS PERSONALITY. Dazai KNOWS HIM. You don't want to see the bad in your friend, ya know? You support your friends. Now that I left him for good and I'm with healthier people, I can finally see who he really is and I regret supporting him.

---

I'll repeat this: He is sometimes unintentionally manipulative but he does have control over what he does.

He told me things like this multiple times:

but as soon as I want too, he pulls stuff like this:

He begged me, I don't want to show it all because it fucks me up but if I really have too I will. I asked him to not beg me but he still kept begging!

That really pressured me. It made me feel like shit. It made me feel so guilty for leaving you which shouldn't happen.

He lied to me saying it was okay, and then he tried to manipulate me into staying with him. Those screenshots really explain themselves. I nearly stayed too despite it putting SO MUCH PRESSURE ON ME, I was crying so much, it hurt my chest, I was about to have a panic attack, it was awful.

I didn't stay because Dazai helped me through it, and I'm glad I didn't stay because our friendship was fucking me up.

One time he called me selfish for trying to stop him from committing suicide(he apologized but that isn't the point of this) and this is what my friend said about it:

-------

Ryland checks up on us.

We check up on him. I'm not going to lie, I do check up on him. He's out to get us. He makes me so anxious. I'm scared he's going to ruin my reputation like he did with me last year! and with so many people just because they leave him or because they 'gaslight/manipulate him'. DAZAI IS NOT MANIPULATIVE. Dazai is no where NEAR manipulative! Dazai is honestly the kindest soul I've ever met. He has helped me and my friend Sky through a lot, and I'm really glad I met such a kind person like him. Many other people can say the same and it's really fucking weird how only one person on earth thinks differently about both of us!

You don't know us. You're just really fucking upset because me and him are friends and you sure love to try to get back at us for enjoying each others company. How malicious.

We have our heads up OUR ASSES? how fucking hilarious.

HOW DO YOU NOT SEE HOW MANIPULATIVE YOU ARE, IS YOUR HEAD SO FAR UP YOUR ASS YOU CAN'T GET OUT?

You treated DAZAI LIKE SHIT.

You manipulated me. You pressured me. You made a call out on me BECAUSE I STOPPED BEING YOUR FRIEND. You've done HORRIBLE stuff to me, Dazai and your other 'abusive' ex.(more on that later) If anything, calling me a bitch is a compliment. Thank you. YOU'RE TOXIC.

Dazai is not manipulative, that is not who he is. You fucking told me he was manipulating me but you have no proof? I know why Dazai acted the way he did and what he did to you isn't as bad as you make it out to be. Sure, he did stupid things but you make it out like it's the worst fucking thing he's ever done in his life. NOBODY deserves to be demonized for minor / HUMAN mistakes. You demonize the living shit out of people just because they leave you.

proof who? He's manipulating me because I... think he's a good person? He does not treat me like how you treated me.

I'm sure Dazai mentioned this in his side of the story so I'm going to say this: He acted differently around you because of how awfully you treated him, he was not himself and he wanted to leave. You do NOT know Dazai. It is not an excuse, but it is the impact you had on him. You made him unhealthy by the way you treated him, intentionally or not, you still did and you fucking knew you were treating him poorly. You hint it yourself in a meme journal you wrote here;

"49. What do you regret: reacting the way i did

50. Why? cus i would be with the person i love right now lol?"

SO YOU MUST KNOW YOU DID SOMETHING WRONG!

And you know what Ryland? You're not my second choice, your not even my last choice! I'll never pick you! Not anymore at least. You always wanted to one up Dazai! You made me feel so freaking pressured to leave him just because you wanted to be better then him. I felt like I had to tell you that 'you're better' and other things just to comfort you. You depended on me and I felt like there was no other option, I didn't know what to say that would make you feel better! Sure, it might've not been your intention to do that but you still made me feel very pressured.

"i will always be that friend u have in the background while u r playing doll with ur other friends but when they leave you, you come to me"

EXCUSE ME? E X C U S E M E? YOU DO NOT KNOW HOW I FELT ABOUT YOU. STOP FUCKING ASSUMING HOW I FELT TOWARDS YOU. I have NEVER came back to you when my friends leave me. You're fucking gross, how DARE YOU. YOU DON'T KNOW ME. That is not who I am. I try my best to talk to EVERYONE even when I am facing my own problems. STOP TRYING TO BE BETTER THEN MY FRIENDS. YOU'RE NOT BETTER THEN THEM. You are probably THE WORST friend I've EVER HAD. Not even the friends I had petty childhood fights with treat me like that! and that's saying a lot.

AND JUST IN CASE HE MENTIONS THIS I'LL JUST SAY IT: I swear to god if you mention how "I left that one friend because I was jealous" yeah, I did. I don't want to get into detail because it is irrelevant but I didn't want to hurt her anymore then I have, I wasn't handling myself well and so I left her. You even told me to leave her. I care a lot about her still and I know for a fact I won't act the way I did again. I've learnt from my mistake. You don't know the full story between me and her. Yeah I told you 'bits' and 'pieces' but you don't know how we felt. So just fuck off before you mention it, you really really love to assume things so I wouldn't be surprised if he mentions this situation with some diluted bullshit.

You're disgusting Ryland for assuming I'd do that. I don't know how I supported and even loved someone like you.

You are not fucking mature when it comes to fights stop trying to make yourself this fucking angel, you're the most immature 13 year old I've ever met. My brothers your age too and he thinks your really immature. You make NO SENSE.

You also do not know how I handle my friends either, so like, just fuck off? I'm sorry that my mental health / care for the other person is important to me? NOT EVERYBODY ACTS LIKE YOU RYLAND. You made me so FUCKING DEPRESSED and you couldn't fix that. You can't fix it. I've always felt like that around you. Just because I leave someone does not mean they were worthless to me. So shut the fuck up, seriously. You do not know how me and Dazai handle things, we handle our situations very differently then yours, just saying.

I'll repeat this again; I do not owe you my friendship. No matter how depressed, weak, whatever you feel, I don't have to be your friend.

I really should not have come back to you all those 4 times I felt bad. I knew you were dependent on me that is why I kept coming back. I couldn't say no to you and I don't know why. I enjoyed our friendship of course, but there were more negatives in our friendship then positives. You said it in a bunch of statuses before, how you can't function without me and other things about me. I got those screen shoted.

But, like you said to me:

My kindness does blind me. I gave you the benefit of the doubt all this time. I thought you were a good person despite you proving it otherwise constantly.

---

Stop assuming how I felt throughout our friendship.

Stop assuming how I handle my friendships.

I handle situations differently to yours so SHUT THE FUCK UP.

Stop fucking assuming how I feel! Just because I tell you something doesn't mean it's the whole story! You are malicious.

I don't like you.

I want you to get the fuck away from me, I want you to shut the fuck up about me, I never want to be in contact with you AGAIN. I'll never ever come back to you like I have stupidly done those 4 times, I did it because I cared about you but fuck that. You obviously never cared about me since you treat me like shit after I leave. You're so fucking spiteful and full of revenge it'd be healthier if you just move on and learn from your mistakes. You almost never do.

You CONSTANTLY complain about things you can fix about yourself, I CAN'T HELP YOU WHEN ALL YOU DO IS WHINE AND NOT WANT TO CHANGE.

I'm also reconsidering the situation with your ex Sage, because I know now that you make issues look more sinister then they really are. I know he did some stupid shit, but were they really that fucking terrible? I'd honestly like to hear his side of the story since we never got to hear it.

If what me and Dazai did was bad, the things he's done to us is worse.

I'm done with you Ryland.

#callout #deviantart #beware

[black-strike-otp]

part 18

I can’t think of anything to say tonight, so how ‘bout we just start the show shall we friends?~

No Cybertronian knew where to look. Some were staring at the hulking mech being yelled at by a medic, barely supporting himself against the doorframe. Some looked to Guard and Neutroboost, looking for guidance. Others were staring at each other, at the incoming Autobot starship. Very few were staring at the ceiling and floor as if the answers to life’s great mysteries could be found there.

Novastrike couldn’t pick where to keep her optics. All of these things were vastly interestingly at the moment.

Not to say seeing Blackout walking around wasn’t delightful, and had her looking at him the most. Just to make sure he was okay, of course.

Guard was the first to speak, taking a few hobbling steps forward with his cane. “What do you mean, Blackout?”

“I mean, they’re looking for me,” the massive mech grumbled, ignoring the medic berating him at his side. “Once I went into stasis, my emergency Decepticon signal was activated. It seems somebody answered.”

A sudden slam of a pede upon the floor had Novastrike leaping into the air. She dropped down closer to Guard and turned around, spotting the one who had made the noise.

“He led Autobots right to us!” Neutroboost yelled with fury. He instantly shot a deathly glare at Novastrike, making her protoform crawl. “And you- you had to save him! You brought a ticking time bomb on board our ship and now not only are we harboring a Decepticon- likely a criminal who’s going to slaughter us all the moment he can actually walk again or deliver us to his friends- but you’ve brought the wrath of the Autobot’s upon us. Well done, Novastrike. Well done.”

Slowly, Guard began to shuffle his pedes to turn around. Bots moved to give him adequate space. Frozen to the spot with shock, Nova just looked on, mouth agape as Guard placed a pede in front of her.

“That’s enough, Neutro,” the elderly mech remarked quietly.

“But sir-”

“Enough,” Guard drawled out in a faint, deep tone.

Neutroboost looked shocked, and then hurt, followed by a peppering of betrayal in his gaze. His mouth slowly closed and he raised his helm defiantly into the air. With a swift glance to the crew, he raised his voice and spoke: “We must throw the Decepticon out of the ship. It’s our only means of survival. They’ll lock on him, and leave us alone.”

A sharp gasp escaped Novastrike and she stepped around Guard. “No, you can’t! He wouldn’t stand a chance.”

“That is not our problem! You gave him a chance, isn’t that what you said you wanted for him? A fighting chance to live? Well, now he has one. I say, we throw him out.”

Quiet muttering began to disperse through the crowd.

A sharp vent escaped Blackout, startling any bot within a range of him. Most of the rogues bunched together anxiously, turning to look at the obsidian frame on the intimidatingly big mech.

“I do not wish to bring disaster and war upon your ship, I will go in peace,” Blackout rumbled tiredly.

Novastrike could feel the racing of her spark like thunder in her audios. It felt heavy in her chassis. Her tanks felt empty and bottomless.

She took a step towards him. “No, you-”

Guard shifted behind Novastrike and she grew quiet and still, looking up to the Commander.

“That won’t be necessary, Blackout,” Guard stated calmly, a light smile on his faceplate. “I appreciate your generosity for our safety. However, I vowed you protection and sanctuary on my ship. And I will keep that promise.”

He glanced down to Novastrike, offering a wink.

“But- but sir-” Neutroboost whined, his voice rising in anger and annoyance.

Disregarding Neutroboost entirely, Guard turned his gaze over to a nearby mech sitting at a command module. “Inform the crew to prepare for a bit of a bumpy ride. I’m putting the Rising Star into transwarp drive.”

“T-Transwarp drive?” Neutroboost stammered. “Guard, we haven’t even tested that piece of equipment yet. We don’t even know if it’s functional, the crew just finished installing it yesterday. It could tear open the whole ship; the Rising Star wasn’t built to handle that kind of technology. It could tear every single one of us open?”

“He’s mad,” a femme said in horror from the back.

“Absolutely insane.”

“No, he’s brilliant!” cried a mech.

“A true hero.”

“We don’t have the will to fight back, Neutroboost. Everyone is full but we are still tired, still recovering, and still getting back into our training. There is no telling if the Autobot’s simply want him,” he gestured slightly towards Blackout, “or if they’ll still give chase to us. Just because we release a mech they see as a villain does not mean that to them, we are the same. We have been harboring him. They may not take well to our kindness to him.”

Still clearly irate, Neutroboost could only glare furiously at his friend. He slowly turned away, huffing as he stared out into the vastness of space as he conceded defeat.

Guard seemed relieved as he turned back to the mech he declared the order to. “Do it,” he commanded.

The mech gave a stern nod, turning on comm channels. “Lower deck Omega, please be sure that the transwarp device is active. Everybot be prepared, we are going to be entering a wormhole in six-hundred nanokliks, on my signal. Please remain calm, avoid all windows brace yourselves.”

Novastrike glanced up towards Guard, trying to catch his gaze, but he was already dispatching the crew out of the room and speaking reassuredly with some of the bots. Slightly crestfallen, she gazed towards the door to see if Blackout was still there. Through the throng of rogues moving to leave, she could see the back of Blackout’s helm.

Dancing around the pedes of those standing around and those leaving, Nova squeezed by and darted down the hallway after Satan.

Well, Satan and a rather enraged medic.

“Are you really always this daft and stubborn, mech?! You could have strained yourself to death- literally! What were you thinking, walking around in your condition?! Oh Primus, I should have stayed with the Decepticons under Nighthawk’s training. Or at least stolen his tranquilizer...”

Blackout shot a rather swift look down at the femme and Novastrike comically looked rather quickly to her too.

They both had completely different thoughts on the mentioned name, however.

“Ma’am?” Nova piped up, walking over to the the pair.

The medic glanced back and then down, realizing who was speaking. Blackout, on the other servo, was continuing an unstable shamble down the hall using the wall as his primary support.

“Oh, Novastrike,” the medic murmured with some surprise. “It’s lovely to see you, dear.”

Novastrike’s audios flicked back sheepishly. “Sorry I didn’t get the energon in time-”

The larger femme flicked her servo. “Nothing to fret about, little one. I just wish we had more sedative so I could have put the burly fellow back under but once he awoke and realized he was on a ship and then the Rising Star well, he apparently had to get up because he had very important information.”

Novastrike smiled slightly at the femme’s digit quotations around ‘very important’. To be truthful, it was quite helpful information...

“I’m taking him back to the med-bay and-” the medic glanced back and lowered her voice after realizing the Big Aft had managed to make a fair distance so he wouldn’t hear “-I’ll be having to strap him down as precaution for the transwarp drive. If he goes hurtling through the med-bay, there’s no telling the damage he could cause to himself- let alone the ship, or me.”

Sympathy wormed its way into Novastrike’s throat but she cleared her throat to push it back down. “Understood, ma’am. Would you like assistance?”

“Oh, no dear, I think you should stay with Guard. You have some medical training now, you can inform me if the transwarp causes him any discomfort. With his age, and his leg...” she trailed off, that haunted look of worry growing on her face like it always did.

“Yes ma’am,” Novastrike reported, offering a slight bow of her helm.

The medic smiled. “You’re a great little helper, Novastrike.”

The little femme’s audios warmed considerably and she bashfully looked away.

A sudden chatter caused Novastrike to jolt and take a step back as a many prong-legged scorpion came rushing her.

“Ahhh- stop!” Novastrike squealed, putting her servo out.

Scorponok came to a sudden halt inches from her digits. He appeared entirely too amused at her frightened complexion.

“I stay,” Scorponok reported. “Protect you.”

“Protect me?” Novastrike asked, baffled. “From what?”

Scorponok shrugged. “Blackout said.”

Oh.

The medic offered a sly grin and quickly straightened her posture. “Well, then- I suppose I should go. Need to hurry and get big-n-scary somewhere safe. Ta~”

Passing a confused glance between the retreating medic and Scorponok, Novastrike let her jaw drop. Was she blushing? It felt like she was blushing, but she could hardly feel her audios.

The scorpion clicked with amusement. “Novastrike, we go?”

“Oh- yes!” Novastrike squeaked. “Yes- we go now, uh, to the command room!”

The duo of small bots hurried their way back into the bridge. Many of the bots had left the room; securing anything down within the ship as they went and sealing off anything that was deemed ‘risky’.

Nobody spotted Novastrike as she entered. There was only a few mechs and femmes left keeping at the command consoles, Guard, Neutroboost, and now Scorponok and Novastrike.

Nova stepped further into the room, staring out the window. The Autobot ship was alarmingly close now, like it had picked up even more speed.

She glanced at her side as the bug nudged her. He prodded her again. And again. Nova jumped slightly away, not understanding until Scorponok had pretty much pressed her against the wall.

The bug turned around after he’d secured his charge to the wall. He wrapped his tail partly around Novastrike’s back and around.

“Uh, Scorponok, is this going to be bad?”

The bug tilted his helm to the side so at least one of his optics could look at her. “Maybe,” he chirped in a delightful tone.

Well, that was helpful.

“Intiating transwarp drive in 3... 2...1-”

A wormhole suddenly opened up like a dark, swirling mass of light in front of them. Novastrike stared in awe.

The Rising Star suddenly exhilarated an alarming rate; sucking into the wormhole and disappearing in a flash just moments before the Autobot’s fired a laser them; the beam refracting out in the void of space.

Novastrike slammed into the wall and Scorponok dug his pedes into the floor to keep from flying back into her. The entire ship began to groan and scream as metal peeled away from her hull and sides. Guard fell to one knee; his servo gripping his cane as it slammed into the floor. A stunned and ill-prepared Neutroboost went soaring into the far wall, and some of those bots sitting in their seats were suddenly glued to the back, unable to sit forward.

They’d jumped without knowing what was in front of them. Without the rest of the transwarp drive system, they were flying blind.

A large meteor suddenly collided with the right flank of the Rising Star; tearing off sections of metal and shattering glass.

Alarms were blaring, and suddenly smaller pieces of rock were pelting the front of the ship. Bouncing off areas and tearing off further sections of the exterior.

“The transwarp drive is overheating sir!” A mech cried, only, it sounded more like a distant whisper to Novastrike’s ears.

“Turn it off!” Guard bellowed, though it too sounded far away.

Stretching his arm forward, the mech slowly reached out. His digits inched out. They tapped a single button.

The Rising Star lurched forward violently, projecting itself out of the wormhole and into open space.

Novastrike released a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Scorponok’s little legs gave out and he fell on his belly, venting as well.

Pushing himself up with his cane, Guard gave a pained grunt. “How bad?” he rasped quietly.

“Ship’s a mess, sir,” a femme stated. “Diagnostics are still coming in, but they don’t look good.”

Guard gave a short nod. “Assemble some... bots. Let’s uh... let’s get to work on repairs.”

Shaking his helm, Guard placed his free servo against his neck and the side of his helm. Fatigue hit him harder than that disastrous trip through the worm hole had.

“ah-hem,” Novastrike stated loudly, catching the old mech’s attention. He looked down slightly at the femme as she approached.

“And you’re coming with me,” Novastrike stated, servos on hips. “You’re going to see the medic, immediately.”

Guard gave a very unenthusiastic groan in response.

#quid pro quo au #OTP AU #OTP Lit #badass otp #when u write something so shitty u can't even deal with urself #but hey at least it's done now i gotta go to bed

[musicprincess655]

Knight and Bishop, Ch. 7

Pairing: Semishira

Rating: T

Tags: a/b/o, royalty au

read on ao3

“Only the player with the initiative has the right to attack” - Wilhelm Steinitz

“He’s an arrogant, obnoxious, spoiled little rich brat.”

“Tell us how you really feel, why don’t ya, Eita,” Kaito said, hands held up in surrender. Eita kicked back his ale, feeling unusually irritated, even for the situation. “Next you’ll be tellin’ us how he killed your ma and kidnapped your sisters.”

“He’s gonna get someone killed,” Eita snapped. “This isn’t funny, Kaito.”

“I’m not sayin’ it is,” Kaito replied. “But don’tcha think you’re overreactin’ just a bit? You can’t expect him to mourn forty six soldiers he didn’t know.”

“I don’t expect that,” Eita sighed. “I’m not insane. I’m not mournin’ ‘em either. But I recognize that they were people who deserve to be honored as humans who lost their lives. You shoulda seen his face, someone coulda spilled his chess pieces and he woulda looked the same. They weren’t people to him.”

“Why does it matter?” Kaito asked. “The war’s basically over, isn’t it? You’re not gonna have to deal with him much longer.”

“I’d rather not think that when we’re not sure how this will play out,” Eita said. “This could go on for a while. It’s nearly summer, it’s not like they have to stop to wait out a blizzard.”

“Why does this particular kid get under your skin?”

“Because he has power,” Eita said. “I don’t think even he knows how much he has yet. He’s literally holdin’ lives in his hands, and I don’t think he realizes that. That’s the kind of commander that gets his soldiers killed. He won’t listen now, what makes you think he’ll listen later?”

“I still think he’s got a special way o’ getting’ under your skin,” Kaito said.

“I don’t like arrogant kids, you know that.”

“He’s not really a kid, though.”

“He’s sixteen.”

“Nearly seventeen. He’s nearin’ manhood. And you’re not far into manhood yourself.” Eita refused to admit that Kaito had a point. “You don’t have to treat him like a kid. You can treat him like an equal.”

“I do…”

“You don’t,” Kaito interrupted. “You think you know better than him because he’s young and inexperienced. You’ve admitted that he’s smart.”

Eita looked away.

“I don’t disagree that his lack of care for lives is concerning,” Kaito went on. “But you’re not bein’ fair. I doubt he’s ever seen a battle. He prob’ly doesn’t know what it is to fall in battle, and he doesn’t know what it is to lose friends to swords. His smarts are there, he just needs time to learn how to use ‘em right. You don’t have to dismiss him because he doesn’t understand everything you do.”

“I didn’t come here for you to be right,” Eita grumbled. “I came here to drink and vent.”

“You came here to bitch.”

“I will admit to nothin’.”

Eita waved for another pint, but Kaito shook his head at the barmaid.

“You’ve had enough,” he said firmly. “Any more and you won’t be movin’ for the hangover.”

“I’m hiring a new best friend,” Eita complained.

“You’d collapse without me.”

“Don’t you have duties to your wife?” Eita asked. “Somethin’ about getting’ her pregnant?”

“Mind ya business,” Kaito said, but he was grinning. “What I do with my mate in our bed isn’t your concern.”

“It is if you’re botherin’ me instead of doin’ it.”

“Semi-san?” a voice interrupted what was about to turn into a playful fight. They both turned to see a page. “The queen requests your presence.”

“What does she want with me?” Eita asked, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. It was harder with the amount of ale he’d had. Kaito was right again.

“It’s urgent,” the page said. Something about her face convinced Eita that arguing further would be a bad idea. He stood to follow her, proud of how steady he was. If someone looked too close, they would see his glassy eyes and flushed cheeks, and he might have some issues with impulse control, but otherwise he’d seem perfectly sober.

The walk from the barracks was long. Eita had to admit he could see the benefit of having him in the castle, even if he did prefer to stay with his own company. It was inconvenient to send pages looking for him this far out.

The queen zeroed in on him the minute he entered the library, and he had to resist the urge to glare at her. She was the real problem here. Shirabu was a secondary concern, but the queen was the one who was really going to get someone killed.

“You’re late,” she said curtly.

“You led me to believe we had nothing to do until we got more information,” Eita replied, as politely as he could handle. “I don’t see why spending a night with my company is a problem.”

“Because we have situations like this,” she hissed, brandishing a letter. Eita felt his blood run cold at the implication. If she was calling him out this late… “We have more information.”

Eita settled faster, sitting next to Shirabu. He felt significantly more sober.

“You smell like the barracks,” Shirabu muttered.

“That’s where I just came from, pretty boy,” Eita muttered back. “Sorry to offend your delicate sensibilities.”

He didn’t have to look to see the scowl spreading across Shirabu’s face. One point to him.

“A rider from the advance guard made it back to the Iron Wall,” the queen said, interrupting them both. “The battle we won was a trap. We were meant to win. They wanted to draw our army farther into their territory so they could divide us.”

There was silence as that settled into them all.

“How far away from our territory are they?” Ushijima asked quietly. Eita was surprised to hear from him so soon. He usually watched things play out for a bit before chiming in with his opinions about how they could be doing better. Usually, Shirabu was the first one to speak, if not Eita himself.

“When the rider left them, nearly one hundred miles north of the wall,” the queen said. She looked more distressed than Eita had ever seen her before. He remembered that her mate was in that situation, and she probably deserved a bit of sympathy, even if he didn’t want to feel it for her. “She said she barely made it out before Itachiyama closed in. The king is still stuck.”

“Our first priority should be getting him out of there,” Eita said. “We need to send more men to the Wall. We’ll work out some plan to go in and help him get back to our territory.”

“One hundred miles north of the Wall would be about here,” Ushijima chimed in, pointing on the table. “There’s a mountain pass just below them. If we can get them through here, we can hold them at the pass.”

“Itachiyama probably has a much larger army than we think,” Eita warned. “We’ll have to come up with something that counters them having a superior army, just in case.”

“I think with our style of fighting versus Itachiyama’s, holding them at the pass should be possible,” Ushijima said. He seemed much more intense than he usually did, but then, his father was in danger. “Anything that can help us prevent loss of life would be good.”

“You will lead as many soldiers as we can muster up there,” the queen broke in. “Semi-san, you will be in charge of your company, since you all seem to work well together. With Saitou-san still gone, Shirabu-kun will have to go as well. We don’t have time to wait around here to come up with a strategy. This is a rescue mission now.”

“My company can be ready to go by tomorrow morning,” Eita said.

“If not tomorrow, I can muster a large force in two days,” Ushijima agreed.

“Shirabu-kun?” the queen asked. It was only now that Eita realized Shirabu hadn’t said a word since the queen had read the news to them. He turned to see a shell shocked look on Shirabu’s face. He shook himself out of it to answer the queen’s question.

“I’ll be ready to leave when everyone else is,” he promised. They stood to leave and prepare, but as soon as they were out of the library, Eita grabbed Shirabu’s arm.

“This wasn’t your fault,” he said. Shirabu’s blank look turned to a truly ugly glare. He didn’t seem at all pleased things hadn’t gone his way. “No one can plan for everything. You gave us a solid strategy, and it worked. You can do it again.”

“Why are you being nice to me now?” Shirabu snapped.

“Trying something,” Eita admitted honestly.

“Trying something?”

“Not treating you like you’re a kid because you’re inexperienced.”

Shirabu didn’t reply.

“Just focus on your next move,” Eita told him. Shirabu mumbled something Eita didn’t quite catch. “Sorry?”

“I only won that battle because they wanted me to,” Shirabu said a little louder. He looked surprisingly vulnerable.

“That’s not the only reason,” Eita argued. “I wouldn’t have agreed to your plan if it wasn’t a good one. It kept loss of life to a minimum. Just because we were supposed to win doesn’t mean they wouldn’t have taken as many of us with them as they could. You didn’t let them.”

“You were telling me yesterday I wasn’t taking those forty six seriously enough,” Shirabu pointed out.

“You were treating them like pieces instead of men,” Eita explained. “But you did keep a lot more than just them from dying. You should be proud of that.”

“I don’t need you to praise me.”

“I’m going to do it anyway.”

Shirabu still looked surprisingly vulnerable. It was a good look for him. He lost that nose in the air look.

“Get some sleep,” Eita said. “All we can do now is pack it up and go.”

“Semi-san.”

“Yeah?”

“Tell anyone we had this conversation, and they’ll never find your body.”

Eita stared at him in shock.

“Was that a death threat?”

“Did I stutter?”

“Brat,” Eita shook his head. He was almost disgusted at how fond that was. “I’ll remember this the next time you look like a kicked puppy.”

“I did not!”

“Totally did.”

“Fuck you!”

“Quite a mouth on you there, pretty boy,” Eita teased. It was worth it to see Shirabu turn an ugly shade of red. This was how Shirabu worked best – with a fire lit under him. “Someone been teachin’ you naughty words?”

“I’m not a child!”

“Not with a mouth like that, you’re not,” Eita laughed. “Go get some sleep. I’ll fight you tomorrow if you want.”

“I know how to use a sword.”

“I bet you do,” Eita conceded. “But I could still beat you in a fight. Your weapon is your brain. So go rest it so we can use it when we need it.”

He turned and left, Shirabu looking shocked at the compliment, no matter how backhanded it had been.

“Go die!” he shrieked, and Eita had to resist the urge to laugh. He walked to the barracks to tell everyone to be ready to go by tomorrow morning.

“You were right, by the way,” he said, finding Kaito. “As if you’ve ever been wrong.”

“What in particular was I right about this time?”

“Treatin’ Shirabu like an equal gets me a lot farther,” Eita said. “I think I can work with him now. He’s learnin’ fast.”

“Don’t ya look proud,” Kaito grinned. “I’d almost say you like him.”

“He’s not too bad,” Eita said.

“Oh no,” Kaito said in mock distress. “You like him.”

“I what now?”

“You like like Shirabu,” Kaito teased. Eita rolled his eyes.

“Please. I just learned how to be in the same room with him. I’m not about to try going after him.”

“He could be your one true love.” Kaito couldn’t keep himself from laughing at that. “Just think. Your children would be the sassiest brats the world’s ever seen.”

“You can stay, you know,” Eita rolled his eyes. “Mari’s a better fighter than you.”

“You wound me.”

The next few days would be insane. A few laughs were what everyone needed now.

#my writing #a/b/o #royalty au #kab #semishira #haikyuu!!

[throwingideasatthewall]

Clone Wars    The Jedi Who Knew Too Much

            (Terrorize a                  woman)

               An adult

             Also wait       I thought they said no one was killed?.

             Like back near the ending they were like                 “he was the only one,”

                  [Working                         With?]

     ??

              So Force 

                That it was never ever brought up that they were dead or what happened to them or just whatever

                  ...    

               Oh joy a funeral 

              with a shade of                        Eugenics

                  Dear                        Frick

                 (This is why I hate    funerals; Bad enough that someone died in such a terrible way that they couldn’t be accountable in return to their        home (which they should     have) and had as close to a peaceful       death knowing that they hadn’t inflicted further pain and suffering on their fellow man,

          No let’s just parade that shit around and make everyone feel as miserable as possible while encouraging that misery

        (Not imagine reminding them about        soon their life will be over)

                     Dic                         k-                         .                         Re-                      mem-ber                            -                          Oh yeah I really care about all those   unnamed people-                           -                            Also yeah let’s try to remember how they were [in life] well the fact that they are dead is robbed in their faces

                        And guilt-tripped

                   Dick.

               [Ahsoka stop being an assumptious dick during a moment of                      silence,]

                   Well I may not respect the concept of funerals        But I do respect the concept of                    If there were rules for an established event                       That you decide to participate in                           You should probably follow                         them,

                       [Empathy circle,                            Asking if sad

                       No shit Sher                             Lock,]

                         It’s a                                Funeral]

[also why does      Ahsoka,        Single               out        Barisse?          She isn’t crying or seems noticeably more upset than any one else,

    “My            Light saber,”

     My mentor         was doing          nothing,

        I know, “younglings”              But for the age we see them          learning about light sabers              There’s little to no chance that someone she learned besides,                 Could teach her anything,

           “ Live for the living Jedi,”

           Then why did you drag the body out of here and make people stare        at it?

        [like live for the living      that’s all good and good,             But part of that includes              not being a dick,            Doing your role to make the world a habitable and decent place,                And being accountable,                 (If you’re inches away from death                  maybe stay home).                 And while this is going                  old fashion murder,                            You’d would assume they would’ve sectioned it off if they were anything resemb                      ling decent                      People,

                 Like not just one place (lane).     for this dude to operate,

                  And in case of       sociality,                   This place wasn’t closed off (permanent) for multiple reasons

                 (Like seriously you guys want to gather around a place where someone died?)

      Point being;           Living for the           living means being          acc-ountable                  And not subjecting people to           staring              at your           dead body,        -

  Live through     us     . . .   Er-

 [But-   they already did their fair share of     living-

[apologies for the “gallows”      humor,

   Just...following       the conclusion of the episodes         focus on,

        Death

   [Point being; you can’t make me feel bad for someone who literally decided   fuck the environment        fuck life     fuck humanity,      i’m going to be a self-destructive       asshole,            And it kicked them in the          ass,

       [Like yeah yeah           loss of life very           tragic,             World is a            wor           -ser,             But that’s a            quick moment-              -] 

           -            [Also yeah                 Jedi life,                   ]

              Like screw all the cleaning                staff,

            Do they even get burials?                   (Weird hierarchy)

               Also, those were all                Jedi?

             (Like seriously          what were they doing down there?)

             Also yeah no wonder             everyone was suspicious,

             Like five Jedi down there for no                 established                     reason

             Weird glowy

              Barisse

              [Where’s                Luminara?

              You know,                      Barisse’s            “Men-tor,”            Authority             assumer,

                  Known                        for                        . . .                 being on top of                    things.                       . . .                            And control                        -ling-                             -                             Micro manage                              -                                “Mov,

                          Seriously     can anyone        leave       this woman alone        for five seconds. .

      Excuses she was already            terrorized enough by              Sky               walker                    .                    Still sucks,

              Why?

               Re-                public

               Jedi-

                How is Ahsoka part of the space military and doesn’t know that they answer to the space government?

                 [Did she think       they were just going to keep them locked up in the same       cell forever?

    No space trial?

     Like this seems       like a very stupid           excuse-          To get Ahsoka involved,            (And overly sus)              And terror      -ize this poor woman further

      (Note I know what she did was            downright shitty,

      (Assuming she didn’t give a false confession          under duress)

       That doesn’t excuse the      tox,-

      Clones kil-

    Seriously when      and why does everyone care about the         clones?

     Like ‘oh no the      (ex) child soldiers died!

        Yeah?

    Like they were “actual” people             (By their standards)        and Jedi            (Who seem to rank up pretty high on the standards, even get a separate burial, and getting a statement ranking their lives only              (Assumed authority             is shit)           right there,

      Ad-miral

     Also yeah      they have different legal systems       for different groups of people,          (We’re just going to paint                that as fine,)

           Like I know this is              assumed authority,               But that’s adding another layer of tox that I think should be             acknowledged -

          She’s guilty-

             Fair-

          Dealt with                    Did-

    Did Ahsoka just advocate for the       death penalty-          !?

     Like her hand moved in that         “over the neck,”             expression,                  .                   Revenge

       Dude this is more than venting 

      this is murder

     (Focus on the don’t         murder          part, before the painting with          broad strokes-          ,         (You’d think one of the older Jedi would be advocating for this           shit)

    A-hsoka

    Could’ve        been a nice moment,

     But the tone was off

     And it didn’t make sense

       ‘ The evid-ence              seems clear’?

       How would the      evidence have changed anything?

          ‘ things will never change,’

        Weird statement,

         - -            Military

        That’s a damn good idea considering they’re          peacekeepers

     (Oh yeah that’s the thing that’s thrown around pretty sparsely;               These guys are supposed to keep the peace,

          (Yet from the itchy trigger finger you wouldn’t think that)

           Never mind Anakin’s suddenly developed                    terrorizing tendencies,

          What would be good...

          If they played              it up for evil,

           And didn’t ignore the        unfortunate implications,

        “Peace Keeper(s);

    Hey, they actually called       them out for that bullshit,

     That’s good

     And yeah she is 100% deserves to be ashamed,          For enabling Anakin          last round,              And possibly            brutalizing,

   Note, there’s a difference between venting       and brutalizing,

    (Mostly decided by     emotions,)

    But still they killed more people         than is acceptable either way                              (0)

       Oh never mind she’s just bitter and completely ignoring the consequences of her actions

         (Yeah!)

   (This is not accountability      this is            Vigilante justice,              Trying to solve everybody’s problems            for them,           Which is the just not how it works,             You can’t assume               accountability for               someone else

             You              aren’t                 them

 [Author-ity]

    Strate-gy-

     Um?

    [What?]  Is.

    Is she    a master now,

     If not then where is          Luminara?

      And just           tasks?

       [i’m sorry but Luminara doesn’t seem like the type to assign that kind of work,

     Being pretty controlling

     And high on everything rule -abiding even their elitist attitude -        towards the jedi-

     Pretty sure    she would’ve sent a bot       or a servant        or something              . . .                Not      an     apprentice?             . . .?             ?   Literally nothing about Luminara?

       “friend”

   Assuming a lot that made they’ve only interacted       once and nearly died that      time,

     Also, comfort?

    Ahsoka is the only one that seems particularly    disturbed-

    Yeah      Barisse is soft-spoken             -                But         not really sad that I can tell

   [all of her speech has been well actively non-consequential and      nonsensical,

  That vague]

  Also yeah     Ahsoka feels bad,           After just say          -ing            Screw              You              To a general that reasonably pointed out that they’re peace keepers, and shouldn’t be interfering so much and so aggressively, in other people’s     lives

   (And that’s fair with Lord terrorizer but painted as it’s no big     deal,”          Over there)

     So yeah you can’t really make me sympathize with someone who just a essentially said “Screw being an accountable person,  I want to hurt people         (Beyond reasonable venting         parameters),          And possibly kill them,

    Yeah, no sympathy

    Young

     More so psychopathic,

      [Like pretty sure      she insinuated murder there,]

       What’s with the cell phone music?

         Seriously, look;   

 She’s fine

  This,

  Also     geez she’s jumping right into the         baggage?

  Like poor Barrisse,        She just wanted to go for a walk      and get some tasks      done    and this person is bringing in the tox,

   [Like seriously you don’t just randomly launch into a rant about the abusers and the system they created,

    Everyone already          knows,

    Stick to the talking when there’s something actually good to    share,

   [excluding         rare     occasions,           - ]

Dear frick      what have       I got myself.       into?]

   Damn poor Barrisse      is trying to get out of this            conversation..

     Like dude that’s against code...

     Dude..

    Haha, you’re so cool

   * through gritted teeth,           *please help me*,

      Genoisse

     * Dear god you’re bringing up that             terrible             situation*?

         -         

        [Help ME]

             ?

            Oh yeah that’s not a completely weird thing to say to             someone after a               mur-der      

                  -    

                  ?     

            [Ahsoka’s           projecting fucking..  

              HARD

               Please                     Leave

        Ha, ha , ha

        [that is a why-do-I-hang-out-with-you       ex       -pression-     -         Like Ahsoka clearly got the talent of starting a long rambling rant about random nonsense and subjecting the nearest person to it” trait from      Anakin         [Pre-quel]              -    

[Here’s a reminder that Barisse just wanted a book or some   shit

   To do her    “tasks,”          And got       subjected        to that,       -    

 [Wait this was an        all-call meeting-

       [Apologies for the           abundance of pictures           but I have a lot of thoughts             ,]

          [Why did Luminara and Barisse              get snubbed?

           How is Ahsoka?                  [there are                 -multiple things wrong                   with this-]

        Anyway-

           L-eto

       Because you’re a gosh             darn terrorist,             And out of the two Jedi she             probably knows-           Ahsoka is the least likely to go            {immediate death mode}.                    Probably             she is kind of death mody now,                         -                        Com-mander                             Tano,                        Really?                            -                                  Besides all the normal,                    not Jedi guards,?                                -             Because that smells of plot                      convenience,                           -                          Like she and Ahsoka barely had one conversation,            Where she enabled Anakin’s crazy assumptions and tyran          -ical ruling,              -            ?             -             [It’s-       a nice         shot-]          -          Whelp,            -           The      guarding system are real         weird here;           Sometimes it’s the      Centurions,         This is the real first time          we’re        see-ing           arc             -          Overly          competent,

        Also like      five people dude, chill

      Also the feck    are you telling her            this?

          Oh                —               Guilt?                 (Good)                     .                     ?                       .      [None of them have a red button            except for one,

                               Hm,     Oh yes it just completely open.    the door with no shields   and let the unarmed person go first,

     -           Also yeah      dick move       Ahsoka,

      You were     the Jedi to contact          -          Seriously,   not your attorney

      Oh heck even one of the older Jedi?

     The ap-prentice-            ?

      This is getting to               Mary Sue               levels                  of          “fecking unlikely,”.                   And             “unrealistic,”                   To establish how much of an      unrealistic unbelievable bad ass       Ahsoka              Is,

        Which, congrats,  I don’t believe it

       That a person living in subsequent poverty would know the name of one of the young to-be Jedis, Who reach-       ed such        renown       after            a few short missions,                Where not much was actually done,

             And she never had an official staring                   role, on her own,

      That’s pure wish fulfillment      and it’s pure bullshit

              [You know what would’ve made more sense?                      And I’m not excusing the story in any way                      I fecking         hate                it at this point,

            But,                    What if she was someone screwed over by some people                 smugglers?

                Who saw some serious crime getting committed,

                  And knew the name                     “Ahsoka,”

                    From stories of the other people that got screwed over                        by people                          smug                             glers,

                          Building on the past mythos;                                    Her adventures with the others

                           Esta-blishing herself as a                                smaller crime fighter,

                          Typically.                              asso-ciated with people smugglers,

                          And allowing her to get up a bit of reputation

                           Form her                               own name.                                -                                     Just                                  -a thought                                      -                                     Time

                                Wow Ahsoka’s a bitch                                               [derogatory                                                     non-identification)

                                  The animation...                                       is not helping,

                                         Mine,                                            Yeah you mentioned it,

                                                    Before                                                    She did                                               you fuckin watermelon,

Also,     

[Apologies.         I meant     to make it    smaller, Didn’t;     Happen,]         But point      being she really         is trash; 

    Over - judgemental

     Willing to go farther than          humane

     Willing to assume           authority,

          And yeah lady did terrible            shit,  

      But it was         five        people,       in a            war;

      If that’s what set Ahsoka off, she’s really not up to hearing about the boomer war

        Because yeah        boomer is far from innocent,

        But these are         boomers this shit is expected,  

         And certainly didn’t         add or require that kind of tone                or behavior;

  That’s          A        “You        Suck,”        And         a trip           to      accoun       -tability

            Also yeah let’s talk about the              tone here for multiple reasons;

               The Boomer isn’t the victim either

                But by God, does it try to fame it as such,

              When we come in,  

                 [and I’m not            doing pictures for obvious                      reasons,]                         They are cur-led up in a corner-                           Tone just barely making it about childify                            -ication

                        And I got to say this                           tone is fucking backwards,

                       With the elder boomer criminal,                             Portrayed                               with a unsteady unsure                                  scared tone,

                          Meanwhile Ahsoka,

  For my complaints     of being portrayed         Too young       for her actions,           Too old         for the        -tone,

       Is now portrayed                 even older,                With cyn-                   icism and defen-                  siveness-                      -                           Which doesn’t make sense since the        present Gen doesn’t have anything to defend,                      And has the un-certain tone                          (Usually hope-ful)                              The tones are completely wrong

                                       Right after it being said that Ahsoka acts young in many ways

    Instead of        acting           Like an old person who’s already         done their thing                 And has something to be        defensive about

   [not even the most toxic person       in present Gen,         Loses the uncertain tone         until their time is up,]

        And continues a constant theme of the series not having any patience and not taking the time to develop anything

       They want to have   , Ahsoka be cool and bad ass and say certain lines but don’t have the patience to work-       To develop it         properly,

    Causing everything to fall        extremely           flat;

   Re;verse          (With      correct          Tone,          Ass-      uming this is a          trap,)

     O; What are you doing here?

    A:   What you?

          [Door             closes             behind]

      O; [crack      Guess you’re not the only one              les;]             to fall into their trap,

       A; [Lifts        Tell me or -or              up]

        O;         Or- or                        what?!

                     It’s not                   in your character                         ,child

        A;        Maybe         [Slump      not         Ing]                           -     -           That at least feels natural             and not like a              body switch,                - - -                [also now you’re playing the death theme after he brutalized several people?]

            Like,               [Wow that was quite possibly the most pointless set up I’ve ever seen,                With several                   easy resolvable instances -                        Play it straight                             with not a drop of self-awareness to drink,

                         And because Ahsoka acted like a complete jerk ass I have no interest,

          Especially when they can switch her tone to                old by gone enabler

             [Good job taking any tension                or suspension of               belief, out of                 your story]

             ...

[mc-dankenstein]

yup here’s another vent post it’s not really like last time where i was basically in the middle of a fucking breakdown but there’s just too much pent up shit i need to figure out and deal with and i feel like i’m going insane?? uni is literally sucking my will to live from me. or, well, what was left of it i guess. like, i knew it was gonna be bad, but it’s just so much worse than i could’ve ever imagined?? btw this is just gonna be me dumping out all of my stupid problems and pretending they’re valid when in reality they’re just so insignificant compared to what so many people are going through so please just stop reading, i’m not in the mood for sympathy or ppl trying to “make it better”, i know your intentions might be in the right place cause i truly have found some wonderful friends here who i know care abt me, but i cannot find it in me to try and pretend something’s better because of our conversation rn, nor do i have the strenght or the time to actively try and make it better myself. i’m just ranting to get this shit out. of. my. system. bc i feel as if i’m gonna explode otherwise. things are not good. i’ve been crying a lot more and a lot more frequently again, i’ve been having attacks and i’m once again feeling super fucking anxious all the time. i can’t talk to my family about it, i can’t talk to my friends about it, bc the result is always either them telling me “it’s normal” or me bursting into tears out of fucking nowhere and i can’t let them see that. ive been studying nonstop for months now to the point where i can���t sleep properly anymore cause the only things going through my brain are a countdown to my next exam i’m probably not gonna pass and the thought i could at least use the time i’m wasting by trying to sleep to study more. and like everybody’s been telling me it’s okay, no one passes exams on their first year anyway, but we all know that’s not true. even my mom’s been trying to be supportive in her own way but i know it’s just her trying to make me feel better when she’s actually so fucking disappointed in me, she’s always been, especially since i started manifesting all my stupid anxiety symptoms i’d been trying to hide for so long, even if she tries not to show it i know i’m just a disappointment to her. she’s been calling me to ask me how i’m doing and to tell me to relax a bit in between study sessions and each and every time i’ve been on the verge of tears and i had to try and calm my sobs so that she won’t hear them through the phone. it just hurts so fucking much to be so far from what she’d deserve from me, and it hurts to be back to square one after literally everybody told me about how much i’d changed and how much better i seemed to be doing, how much more confident and strong i looked and i feel like a fucking moron for allowing myself to believe what they said. for a while i actually thought “y’know what? i actually am doing better” and yet here i am now, studying my best years away and not even getting any actual results from that other than frustration, anger and disappointment, i still have not passed a single goddamned exam and everybody around me feels like i’m stable enough to carry all of their emotional luggage as well as mine. and i feel like shit about phrasing that last one that way bc it seems like i’m not a supportive friend who only wants to see the people i care about thrive and be well when i like to think i am. this has been such a shit year, right from the start. and it still makes me sick that i wasn’t there for all of them when they needed me the most. in the span of less than two months my new uni friend, the only person i feel like i’ve connected with since i moved to the other side of the fucking country, has been opening up to me about her own anxiety problems, her bad relationship with her family and the fact that uni gave her panic attacks for the first time in her life; one of my best friends from home told me she attempted suicide, and i still can’t think about that without blaming myself for disappearing bc my brain just couldn’t handle shit then and i needed some time off from people in general, so i didn’t text her, i didn’t call her, we just briefly saw each other when i came home for less than a week in may and then a whole week of silence. i KNEW her past experiences, i KNEW she’d been having a lot of issues with depressive episodes and i KNEW she needed me and yet i did the asshole thing and just couldn’t pick up the fucking phone to send her a single text cause i couldn’t handle a conversation with another human being when i was about to shut down completely, and i didn’t know anything about what happened until i finally did text her a week later abt some stupid shit i’d seen on youtube and she told me everything got so bad that she tried to drink bleach and end it all. i would’ve been too late and i didn’t even realize. if she succeeded i would’ve sent that text and nobody would’ve answered. and i’ve been trying to react in the way i think is best for her, and she says i’m really helping bc i know how she feels and what she’s going through, but in reality i honestly don’t know what i’m doing and she’s the second person i know other than me who’s been suicidal, and she’s the second person i’m so terrified to talk to sometimes, even though i know from my own experience they need to have someone who cares about them to reassure them and just be there, because i’m scared shitless i’ll say something and fuck everything up and make it worse for them. i talk to them like i’m so strong since i’ve been through the same things and put up this mask of someone who’s actually better now, but i actually sincerely and honestly have no idea how to handle the situation. and then there’s my other best friend who i honestly have been treating like shit. she’s going through so much and i’ve been so distant and she doesn’t deserve that. even typing this out is exhausting and it’s making me feel so fucking guilty bc i have another exam tomorrow and i should be studying instead, and everyone keeps telling me “just relax, you’ve done enough” or “it doesn’t really matter wheter you pass it or not” except that it does. it does for my mom, it does matter because it would prove that i’m not really wasting my time and my parent’s money to be in a university where i so clearly don’t belong, it does because every time i’ve tried i’ve gotten so frustratingly close to passing that now i’m just fucking angry. i think i had a train of thought i wanted to follow in the beginning but now idk anymore and i’m tired and angry and i seriously need to go study so fuck it, i’ll leave it at this.

#personal #vent post

[soovaryit]

I have been RAGING at my body as of late. As I’m sure other chronic pain and illness suffers will understand, I dramatically switch between the inner monologues of ‘I love my body! I’m going to be kind to it and fill it with nutrition and goodness!!’ to ‘I want to forget that I have a body, eat junk food and be drunk 99% of the time’.

This is all tied up in mental health and pain levels of course, but it can often be a reaction to the way in which others treat your pain. I’d love to pretend I’m positive and level-headed enough to not let peoples actions affect my personal outlook but nope. I’m a human being and a fragile one at that and every negative interaction I have around my illness feeds into a negative view of myself. Shout out to my therapist for that line, thanks Lyndz. Today I want to vent about common misperceptions and assumptions around endometriosis and chronic pain in general because they fuck me off and I’d rather address a general audience than have to explain this to individuals that I encounter. Maybe I should just walk around wearing a t-shirt with these on. It would have to be a very big t-shirt. Anyway.

First up – let’s tackle the big one. That endometriosis is a ‘women’s problem’. Problematic on several levels. First of all, endo affects 1/10 people with a reproductive system. This does not mean that they identify as female. They could be trans, non-binary and/or not use she/her pronouns. It’s exclusionary to adopt this kind of universal female rhetoric around the disease. I am guilty of this too but it would be nice to see a shift in the gendered language around endo that doesn’t exclude anyone who isn’t cis or female-identifying. The second way it is problematic is that society doesn’t care about ‘women’s’ issues. The more it is labelled as such the less it is thought of as a HUMAN disease that affects HUMANS. Please, lets start making this a human issue. Yes, it’s ‘taboo’ because it’s about periods and ovaries and all those yucky things that even modern medicine doesn’t want to acknowledge. But imagine if this wasn’t a gendered disease. I can guarantee you there would be extensive research and treatment on a condition that can glue your organs to one another and leave you with trapped internal bleeding and scars all over the inside and outside of your body. Not to mention ruin your mental health and fertility. Which brings me to…

All endometriosis sufferers want babies and that is their number one concern in the world! Who cares about your health and sanity when our sole purpose is to breed!! (I really hope you’re getting my sarcasm here).  It is an undisputed fact that during your journey with endo, (generally male) doctors will comment on your ability to have children without asking. This has even made me, a person who would like children, uncomfortable as it’s often information given to you based on the fact that you have the capability to produce a child, never mind if you have asked about fertility or stated that you want children. It is an irritating assumption that many doctors will offer you as a ‘cure’ when it absolutely isn’t. It’s misinformed, misogynistic bullshit that could be ended by the simple question of ‘are you concerned about your fertility?’ before launching into said bullshit. It also prevents doctors from performing hysterectomies to younger women as there is a ludicrous assumption that they will change their mind later in life and thus any agency around their body is taken away based on one doctor's opinion. I'm sure this is different country to country but in the NHS it is notoriously difficult. I was left with very little information after my lap other than ‘it hasn’t affected your fertility’. Yay for me but will there be any less pain? Who knows! Better crack on and get myself pregnant with my non-existent partner and stop hassling poor doctors over my quality of life. *

Number three is my fave go-to criticism from ‘healthy/able-bodied’ people (I find both of those words irritating but never know what else to say). That raising awareness for chronic pain is attention seeking or asking for a pity party. I think I am safe in saying that literally no one with a disability of any kind wants your pity. I can only speak for myself here but phrases like ‘you poor thing’ and ‘how do you cope?’ ignite a certain fury in me, especially when accompanied by a head tilt and simpering voice. It makes me feel pathetic. It makes me feel like you think I am pathetic, which could not be further from the truth. When I write blogs and share photos of my experiences with pain it is because I want to show people the reality of it. I want to end the misconception that any of my conditions are something to be hidden or ashamed of because that is how society keeps chronically ill people down. I want you to recognise the strength that it takes to live with pain every day and I want you to feel the frustration that suffers feel when they are not taken seriously or believed. Is it attention seeking? Yes. I want everyone’s attention when I explain how overlooked endometriosis and chronic pain are and how medicine is steeped in gender inequality and a disregard for complicated conditions. So there.

And I’ll finish with.. you’re just a hypochondriac! Okay let’s go there. In what world would any human being relish the idea of going to doctors and hospital appointments that cost them money and valuable time, only for their time to usually be wasted by medical professionals that don’t understand or have much of an interest in helping you?** Why would ANYONE want to spend their lives in bed feeling isolated and alone and depressed and waiting to feel well again when they’re not sure they will ever feel well again? Why would I want to spend my time making up pain and illnesses when I could, ooh I don’t know, be making the most of the degree I’m paying £51,000+ for? Or doing normal 25-year-old things like enjoying dating, going on holidays, working? Everything I do has to be a careful calculation of how bad I will feel after and it is exhausting. Some days I don’t want to step foot in my bedroom because it reminds me of miserable, seemingly never-ending bouts of pain and depression/anxiety. I would like to be a ‘healthy person’, whatever is that is but I will loudly shout about every condition that holds me back because we live in a world that doesn’t value people with long-term health problems. So I hope I have got your attention, but I don’t want your sympathy. I want your empathy and understanding. And honestly, I hope people do feel an element of discomfort when they read posts like this because chronic illness sufferers sure as hell don’t feel comfortable ourselves and I am happy for the world to know about it. Now a couple of disclaimers bcos that was a big ol’ rant and some things need to be made clear.

*Did not want this rant to discount the horrendous struggles of infertility because that is an unimaginably awful thing for people to go through and solidarity with you <3 

**There are also lovely, lovely caring medical professionals in the sea of incompetent ones like my doctor who is aptly named Dr.Peacock because he is a beautiful, understanding creature and please keep trying until you find one, you will find one.

#endometriosis chronicillness chronicpain endometriosisawareness depression anxiety

[trliteraltrash]

I’m Not Childhood-trauma Case, Right?

First of all, please to not read this if you are triggered easily or do not want to read something fairly long. I see this as a sort of vent. I am not crying for help either - this head space of mine has no help to cry for.

There is no excuse for what you might see, so, do not tread lightly.

Under the cut is a watered down life story and an insight to my life should you care.

All of this is my truth.

It goes like this, one minute your searching up how to write about trauma, listening to the ambient sounds of your family outside your room, with the door that stays open because you can’t find it in you to clear the path for it to shut, yes, a lazy habit.

The next moment or so passes, you relate on some level to the posts your reading on Tumblr and Google, only, you can’t find yourself ticking the I was abused box because you really don’t know if you were.

Let’s place some cards on the table so you see the situation before you.

You’re parents’ are divorced, so already their titles are “Mum/Mom” and “Dad” not just your “Parents”. One was an alcoholic who physically and mentally abused the other, right up until you were about four years old.

You need some more information? Well, here’s a few more cards to this deck you sit atop.

You aren’t the only one in this little ‘situation’ of yours. You have an older sibling, three years apart, and a younger one, of almost three years again. In that sense, you’re the middle child. What happens when that is the case? You wouldn’t know, it only stayed that way for about twelve months.

Your mother has another partner at this point, a man with PTSD. they have two children together, he already had three kids. by the time you are nine years old you are one child of eight almost genetically related kids in the round-about loop. Only four of your siblings actually live with you. In total, you’re the third eldest. However, you are second eldest in your household.

You become very mature for your age, always quiet and observing. Every piece of information becomes catalogued. By the time you turn thirteen, you have anger problems, making regretful choices, having hit your friends a few times - they accept that. At this point in time you are attending your fifth school purely due to moving, a school becoming too expensive, or maybe both.

Your friends don’t stay long. You often wonder if they even remember you. You’ve also taken to drawing at this point. It’s easy to make messy beginner’s mistakes. No one seem’s bothered by your new obsession. You’re still quiet, finding small talk annoying.

By the end of year/grade seven, you’ve moved schools again. The information in this area shocks you, another chance presents itself - who do you want to be? You’ve tried the tough, anger type, the quite shy type, even the nerdy smart type by this point. You decide to make fast friends - maybe this is for the best.You suspect you’ll move on fast.

Oh, I seem to forget, before entering this point, you’ve had your first brush with a student trying to kill themselves in the middle of the classroom with a borrowed pair of scissors. The two girls next to his had counselling for it.

What was the point of counselling? You had never needed it. Moving forward, The friends around you had engaged in cutting. the first was an obvious cry for attention that you sated with genuine concern, the second you tried to help, even if it was triggered with words you heard as ‘I’ll stop when [they] stop.’ the third was the biggest cry for attention. Did you have to follow this ‘Trend’? you didn’t want to, your venting was to paper with a pen.

Writing became your best friend. As did drawing, both a cry for attention that no one could see. Bleeding hearts, bloodied and broken angels with their eyes missing, friends and family alike had died by this point, only fourteen years old and the nightmares each night have started on and off again.

an invisible pressure on your chest when you awake or go too sleep interrupting your already active mind. Each ‘vent’ drawing inspiring the word ‘beautiful’ from every person who sees.

Why don’t they ask whats wrong?

You cried a few times, long curly hair covering your shoulders as you cried so quietly in front of crowds of people who did nothing less than ignore you, literally. they knew of nothing that was wrong.

By the time you're sixteen, you’re at school number seven. you’ve done nothing wrong, only a few memories of play ground bullying coming back inconveniently - such as the time when you were in year/grade one and a group of boys had bullied you into physically fearing being by yourself on the playground. An altercation of a stick throw hitting the biggest one’s head, drawing minimal blood leaves you with black and blue bruises over your entire left side, 

The situation at sixteen is that you attempt to make others feel better about themselves whilst remaining the reserved optimistic pessimist that over analyses every situation. You’ve made new and old friends by this point.

The year feels as if it is going to be okay, dealing with your fathers partner of around six years isn’t as much of a hassle by this point. Your father himself is just happy to see you and has stopped asking your siblings if they will come to see him. He doesn’t know that She, his partner pushed him away with her controlling nature and abusive attitude that no doubt pushed her own children (the ones she had as a teen) away.

Now, nearing seventeen, you have started sorting more of your life out, your fathers partner has had the long winded debate of how much you dislike her in complex “You’re there with my father and despite your health issues that I do not find sympathy for (sorry) nor the almost excuse of ‘My own flesh and blood daughters don’t have anything to do with me’ spiel will work because I do not appreciate you calling yourself my stepmother.” will not excuse the problem that all the ways she tried to ‘win’ your affection would not work.

Your father did not tell you to apologise. You had refused to apologise to her in the first place.

Yet.

You still felt the need to explain yourself to him. Everything with him needs a reason.

Coming back to topic you will see that there are many cards here. All of the negative ones. overlooked school performances, playful jabs from siblings,a family that has two divorced people together in your main unit, another in the alcoholic father you only sometimes visit.

All of the experiences of your life may be part of what people know as ‘trauma’. You, or, more accurately: Me. The author of what you’re reading, do not believe this. If it were, perhaps there would have been some kind of counselling involved.

You see, in this sort of situation - I cannot find anyone who is in the same position. I do feel alone, as alone as I can when I live with so many people. It has become so easy to internalise hate and conversations that have never happened which plague my sleep or waking time.

Here are some more facts:

I am both Asexual and Bi-romantic.I have, on occasion felt curious about what people feel when the ‘release’ of cutting themselves occurs. I then remember that my older and younger sibling from my fathers, therefore my own bloodline have both caused this upon themselves. I do not want to continue this - I do not wish to inflict physical signs that I am hurt or damaged to the outside world.

I have thought about the implications of killing myself. I entertain the idea, but that is selfish and would cause my family and those who care pain.

I have, on many occasions, stayed at home when my siblings go out with my parents purely because I feel as though their short trips to places will make for a more comfortable car trip if I simply do not go - even if i have been told initially that I’d be going.

I don’t ask for items or anything that will cost money if i can go without it purely because I don’t want to be an expense - it is selfish and sometimes I still ask for experiences. When i get asked why i don’t ask for things I shrug, when really the answer is clear in my memories; My mother would almost desperately ask in a scolding tone to stop asking for things - after all, every one or two dollar item soon creates a large expense.

Because of this, I do not use the lunch money she gives on occasion.

There is a lot I do not do, or decide to do when I look back through my memories, I have spent many of these teen years hiding away when I could be outside, spending time with people.

I have grown use to this life of placing others before myself.

I have grown used to the word ‘fat’ or ‘bitch’ or, on occasion, internalising a flinch when someone raises their hand in a mock ‘hit’ only to think it’s funny when ‘Ha! I was finally able to scare you!’ not understanding that being hit is a legitimate fear that negates an automated reaction.

But no, my fear of being abused, not in some level of control, not in a safe environment (even slightly), being physically alone, of heights, of crying in front of people, et cetera, et cetera. is not something I label as trauma.

I do not wish to believe myself as a Childhood trauma case. However, sometimes when i listen to a song enough times, and read about how to write trauma, getting into the head space of, “Do I perhaps even nudge the surface of this vast ocean?” I cry myself a river that may only last a few tears on the outside, but is its own world of murk on the inside.

No, I am by no means strong. You may perceive my lack of tears, or the way I can lift over forty kilograms as strength. But I know that not to be true.

i simply know where and when it is acceptable to let the taped over glass bottle smash and be replaced with a slightly more reinforced one.

But sure, all of this and I am still an optimist. I’ll forever thank the one who wrote me:

“If we saw the world as brightly as you do, we would all be blind.”

because i choose to stay on the bright side, if another can be taught to see a little brighter, if only for a moment of my guidance, then I have done my job as a fellow human - a moment of normalcy in a rather uncaring mind.

because truthfully, I don’t care.

I feel everything so fucking strongly that I physically cannot turn away.

...

And the next moment after this run of unwanted reflection?

Well...

How

Do

You

Write

Trauma

?

#trauma #childhood #fear #rant #reflection #personal #T.R #divorce #alcoholic #parent #parents #siblings #you didn't ask for this #I wrote it anyway #potential trigger warning #trigger warning #self-harm #fuck #I'm sorry #there's no excuse for this #parent with PTSD #sisters #brothers #friends #I won't let them help #I'm fine #but not okay #Inside is as ugly as a freshly written nightmare