[Forget About Him — Daniela Avanzini]

;; avoidance transforms into devastation in fleeting seconds internally, daniela couldn’t bear being so distant towards you. it hurt you and her, both parties getting the negatives instead. her stubborn pride tells her otherwise; if you have a man now, why can’t she get one by her side too?

taglist [OPEN]: @sisisierrasblog, @mashup-writing, @jhayliace, @vivinquisha, @fandomhoppershxt, @vamps4sum, @evs-h, @vinvinvin-who, @jennasslut, @aloneinacity, @wtfisthisnoclueman, @strip3z-12, @nic4her, @kfzxmnz1, @moonpheus, @cantlandonmyfeet, @nokpopnolifee, @dreamingst99, @mseilishmwah, @notheroverthinker, @thgh1, @weepingmanon, @iwanttoberich420 , @skz-xii , @multistann32, @dqndelionn, @fein4lararaj, @joleneonvinyl, @ririhatesmen,

fem4fem. 2.7k words.

days pass by, no difference was visible in the air. of course, people talk about it behind your back—not like you cared in the first place, you thrived on their endearing or insulting words like a runaway on a fashion show.

the one change was that your new boyfriend, dean, has been dragging you along to his hangouts and parties. accessibility has became easier for you and your friends fortunately yet the downside was you had to deal with his overbearing attitude.

chest inhaled to seem bigger, shoulders rolled back dramatically and a smug cartoony grin reaching his cheekbones as you were tugged to his side despite the look on your face screaming ‘get me the fuck out of here, stat..’ while he boasted about his achievements and whatever the fuck he beams about.

blank mind, devoid of anything important occurring through seamless classes—you were so out of touch, your dear bestfriend daniela hadn’t been replying lately as she would, sometimes even leaving you on read which was an insult tainting your precious ego.

you didn’t want to seem desperate rather just played it off cool, maybe megan’s right. she was on her period or something personal might have been going on: that sounded so wrong since too much vulnerability has been exposed between you two from the depths of your very souls.

halloween’s coming up soon, way too soon than you have expected. this year unlike any other, you weren’t anticipating it.

speaking of the festivity, your boyfriend’s voice snapped you out of it as he chatted to his friends—arms around you as if claiming a territory, not being with a person. “for halloween, bro, i would love to have some typa couple shit going on with my girl,” he makes a cheesy remark that makes you externally cringe, face scrunching up in disgust.

those couple costumes you see on your feed was ridiculous and out of order, too over sexualised (that didn’t really matter to you but still), ugly, and corny.

and with dean? dean out of all people? yeah, fuck no.

“no thanks,” you blurted, extracting yourself out of his sweaty, icky grip.

he raises an eyebrow, grin faltering ever so little but you noticed unlike the others and was satisfied with the outcome.

well deserved.

“why not, baby? it’s hella cute.” he insisted further, eyes drifting off to his sniggering friends subconsciously.

“i don’t go for cute,” you flash a forced sarcastic smile, crossing your arms and making your way the opposite direction.

anywhere that’s away from him.

at least that brightened up your day a bit.

manon cackles out loud in the tense silence, throwing her head back and ignored the rude stares from his friends and dean himself, running after you to catch up with you as she covers her mouth.

“oh god! that was so fucking embarrassing!” playfully, she slaps your arm and you smiled in response. “why’d you ditch me? oh god, i can’t breathe,” she wheezes, coughing awkwardly as she clutched on her stomach.

you clapped her back, “it’s not that funny now, c’mon.. someone just had to shut him up.”

she laughed harder, “the someone in question had to be his precious girlfriend?”

“who else?” you couldn’t help but giggle at the irony.

linking arms with you lazily, manon leans forward. “you gonna go to that halloween party on the weekend, though?”

you hesitated, avoiding her eyes. “do i have to?”

“well, dean’s there.” she adds, giving you a knowing look.

you grimaced, leading her to backtrack her words in panic. “well, fuck.. dani’s there.”

“why’d you have to mention her?” shoving your hands into your pockets, her name brought you memories of these bitter days: her being away from you, possibly not accidental.

manon shrugs, “you two on bad terms?”

“we never were,” you rushed to your defence, wide eyes at the suggestion itself as you faced her furiously.

she held her hands up for a hint of peace, “you two could be now, i mean.. everyone’s shocked that you two aren’t on each other for a full day. let alone.. nearly a week? that’s a record, babe.”

you couldn’t blame her.

calls were quick to be cancelled, no long-lasting texts exchanged and left on read or to an extent: delivered. affectionate pet names disappeared before you knew it, the woman doesn’t even look you straight in the eye anymore so what did you expect? touches grazed on your skin that was engraved permanent faded away, no fingertips in contact anymore at this point.

it bothered you immensely.

“i don’t know what i did wrong,” you admitted honestly, voice wavering at the end.

manon noticed yet didn’t comment on it, nodding solemnly. “that’s what everyone says who’s in the wrong.”

“i’m not, though.” you argued, voice low.

“is it ‘cause you’re with your lil’ boyfriend too much?” manon tilts her head at you.

“barely,” you rolled your eyes.

she tsks under her breath, “don’t lie now. we don’t see you around much anymore, megan’s been complaining.”

“he’s forcing me, i wish i could say no—“

manon cuts you off sharper than she intended, “you can but you choose not to, nothing’s stopping you.”

you nodded, “fine. when’s the party?”

she grins, “this friday, i better see your ass there. i’ll text you the details later.”

committing the day to mind, you smirked and faced her, “what should i wear?”

“something sexy, don’t let your man stop you.”

you snorted softly, “nobody’s able to stop me, baby. let alone him.”

squealing in excitement, manon claps your hand and pats your back in supposed ‘praise’ at the realisation that you deliberately chose not to have freedom since you were now.. temporarily occupied (not for long). “that’s my girl!”

———

fragrance of intoxication bled freely into the thick air, hypnotising you into the sweet suffocation of people’s bodies against others for a desperate sense of touch and need.

bright lights flashed through, explosions of explicit lyrics booming throughout the humongous house of whoever owned it—you never asked for the details, you just knew you had to be there.

to prove a point? maybe.

the outfit you picked screamed it.

your tight white corset loomed around your waist, not so fitting for the ‘angelic’ concept you were going for but perfect for to seek the greedy lust radiating of the gazes scanning your body as you strode past.

fluffy, milky wings hung high behind your back and the mini skirt you were, grazing barely against your inner thighs.

of course, people stared, talked, whispers hidden behind their open palms.

unrecognisable faces greeted your vision, entering and exiting to never return into your life: meant to be bystanders, nothing more but much less.

a sweet smug smile tugged in the corner of your glossy lips when you saw megan enthusiastically beckoning you over by throwing her arms around.

“wow.. you really went out tonight, haven’t you?!” she screamed over the music, pulling you into a tight hug before letting you mingle with other friends who said the same thing but in a different sugary font.

“yeah, i did. i mean.. got a bit bored and decided why not?” you laughed, the corner of your eyes crinkling in amusement.

“wait, wait.. i thought you were going to match with dean?” one of your curious friends (the title alone wasn’t too deserved for them) perked up.

megan’s smile vanished noticeably.

your smile formed into a pleasant grin, “ah, that? i’m glad there was a change of plans.”

and her joyous demeanor came back like a hurricane, crashing through as she clung onto you casually.

“as you should be, anyway who’s up for some drinks?” with exaggerated elegance, she raises the plastic cup full of unknown booze you weren’t interested in knowing the contents mixed with to make that intimidating neon colour.

politely, you scooted away from the table. “no thanks,” you shook your head, giving the row of cups a certain look of disgust.

megan’s eyes bulged out of her eye sockets in horror, “what? you’re fucking serious? this ain’t you.”

“just not in the mood, maybe later?” yet your tone suggested ‘maybe never’.

she gave you a questioning look, seeing right through you since you were an open transparent book to her. “c’mon, then what’s the point of coming to this type of party when you’re not gonna get so drunk till’ you blackout and throw up in the morning afterwards?”

you gave her a condescending pat on a cheek, not really affectionate so she pouted, pushing her bottom lip out like a sulky puppy. “i’ll see you, i need to find someone,” you muttered, your voice inaudible over the noise.

the someone in question was manon.

accidentally, on loose feet that blended it with those dancing rapidly on the floor or tilting forward to a certain person, you barged countlessly into multiple people—ignoring their rude shouts aimed at you and rushed out of the crowd and outside at the back of the house to take a deep needed breath.

your eyes examined the surroundings, it wasn’t the type you would willingly stride into or thrive in.

but you know who definitively would.

catching the woman crouched down, inhaling desperately into the cigarette tugged between her firm fingers. her face was set blank, her eyes casted low as the smoke escapes her parted lips. smoking in a ridiculous costume like a glittery fairy certainly clicked in place for you.

you approached her, “manon!”

she glances behind, a lazy smile twitching on her lips as she throws away the cigarette, standing up and stomping away the fire left harshly. “fuck, you really came?”

“you shouldn’t doubt me, girl,” you playfully scolded her, leaning into her arms for a moment as they wrap around you to ease the chill of the wind passing by.

“damn, you look good.” manon commented, her grip tightening for a fleeting second but you didn’t notice.

you pulled away to look at her, “and you too. but dang, if a kid sees a fairy smoking, you’ll practically ruin their life forever.”

“and ever?” she tilts her head at you and rolled her eyes, “like i care about maintaining a reputation for stupid fairies.”

you laughed, giving her a mocking stern face. “anyway, did you see daniela around? what’d she wear?”

manon’s eyes wandered around, checking just in case. “nah, haven’t see her. perhaps we can find her together? i’m curious now of what she’s wearing for halloween.”

her hands trailed down to your side, reaching to interlock her fingers with yours. “don’t want to get lost here, do we? too many bitches gathered up here,” she warned, tugging you along back inside to the warmth and the music that now was a familiarity to you alongside people’s loud, obscene chatter (and those shameless moans from the corner of the room.)

getting dragged around like a doll by manon, she still held onto you as you two climbed up the stairs where in house parties like these—were asking for trouble or sex, sometimes both. private hangouts arranged upstairs had too many implications, all of them not so good.

people fuck around or fuck each other, hormonal instincts fogging their rationality and would publicly make out right with no care that someone could easily walk in and became one of the traumatised witnesses.

the music blasted from downstairs were muffled, distant yet close as some people gathered to huddle on the staircases and idly held the plastic cups which was left untouched from their lips too busy spilling away whatever nonsense.

colour wasn’t present either, faded to the shadows reflecting upon the white walls and manon’s dark silhouette was the only formable liability you could trust and her lingering touch on your wrist tightening to provide some sort of reassurance.

she faced you, dragging you closer to her body. “hold your breath, people are vaping.”

you frowned, “bitch you literally smoke.”

manon scoffed, one eyebrow arching up cockily. “vaping’s for pussies, it’s diabetes in air. i mean, they literally have a dubai chocolate flavour!”

“can we go or are you gonna keep ranting about your hatred for vaping?” impatiently, you tugged on her arm.

“let’s go, then.” she grumbled, pulling you up into the darkness and you tripped on yourself, unable to see anything.

falling limp sideways, slipping through manon’s arms—you barged against an open door and bumped into a recognisable body into another person.

manon’s mouth falls open as if a fly waiting to pop in as she watches the scene, her initial words dissolving into horror.

the woman dressed up in a revealing harley quinn outfit, her flimsy wig’s strands waving everywhere like she’s electrocuted into a man who seemed to be matching with her, cosplaying as joker with red lipstick smeared of the corner of his lips and the light foundation was the only thing that stood out in the darkness.

it was daniela and another man.

unapologetic, she looked at you and a wave of intense emotion passes before masking with a cool mask, leaning against the man as if she knew him.

as if she trusted him more than you.

there was nothing more to say, her actions said otherwise.

“you.. you really came?” daniela whispered, an observation, not an entry for a conversation but something to absorb the tense air between you and them.

“yeah, i did. i didn’t know.. you had company coming with you,” you played casual carefully, not wanting to seem effected.

manon went forward, the friendliness reserved in her expression vanished. “who’s that?” she jerked her chin at the man who’s arm loosely was around daniela’s waist and she stared at him in unmasked disdain.

a not so friendly smile quirked up, not reaching daniela’s eyes as she raises her eyebrows. “oh, him? i forget to tell you guys but he’s my boyfriend,” she leans into press a rushed peck on his lip which left him flustered definitely.

and to leave you in hidden betrayal.

“oh,” you pursed your lips and looked away, shifting around uncomfortably. “maybe since we haven’t talked in a while,” you added on, intended to leave a slight sting at your expense of a hint of vulnerability seeping through in the hostile conversation.

“maybe,” daniela didn’t deny it.

it hurt that she didn’t even try to.

you needed a drink, immediately.

without an unnecessary farewell, you turned around and dashed downstairs—disappearing into the crowds with manon running to follow you, her arm looping around yours.

“y/n!” she shouted, worried.

you didn’t reply, you didn’t know what to say. you were confused, mostly pained. you don’t know why there was a sudden ache in your chest, tattooing a sinking pain through the inner skin when your eyes set on daniela with someone else.

you don’t know why nor did you want to find out.

manon tried stopping you but failed, falling back into the busied crowds when you arm reflexly shoved her back since you were too emotional to think with your senses—acting upon your rapidly beating heart and downed any available plastic cups filled with booze that was meant to leave you dizzy and able to forget whatever happened tonight.

swallowing the burning liquid down your throat easily, your hands moved on instinct and you just drank and drunk: until your body and mind fell limp, numbing the feelings out.

you needed someone now.

who cares if you have a boyfriend?

forget about him.

felling loose in your sluggish movements, you danced around and eyes fluttered closed when feeling yourself lost in the sensation of being in the crowds in a similar state.

an attractive man caught your half-lidded eyes, who grinned stupidly back at you—showcasing the same dimples daniela had and you knew you had to make a move.

you went forward, twirling your hair. “hey, woody.. or cowboy, you look a lil’ too good.”

he hiccuped, “you too, angel.”

and at the end of the night, you ended up in his arms than where you should’ve been destined in.

Rating: M

Word Count: 5k+

Jaeyi and Seulgi's reunion.

@nb-izukus im not legally allowed to talk about vigilante izukus without talking abt gl izuku

“Don’t worry,” Michael hurried to the bottom of the stairs before anyone else on the roster could, “you guys stay down here. I’ll go fetch them.”

The rest of the group waited impatiently at the entrance of the venue while Michael stomped up the stairs, stamping his boots on the wooden floor of the first floor corridor as loudly as possible.

“Are you ready yet!?” There was a crash from the room. A noise that might have been a groan of pain or more likely something else.

This was getting ridiculous. Lateness was the norm for Ibushi - who should just be assigned his own time zone at this point, but Kenny was usually punctual. Common sense dictated they should cancel each other out and be half as late. In fact, for the last couple of weeks they were generally twice as late as Ibushi was on his own. Michael had his theories as to why this was the case.

“Hello!?” Michael yelled again, in English this time in case Ibushi had spontaneously gone deaf. “I’m coming in! Everyone’s been waiting to go for barbecue for 20 minutes!”

Michael pushed the door open to see Kenny and Ibushi - fully dressed, thank god - on opposite sides of the room, shoving their belongings into their bags. The door didn’t even have a lock! These two were going to send him to an early grave.

“We’re coming!” Kenny was breathless and still wet from showering, “Sorry! Almost ready!”

…

“What is he talking about now?” Ibushi leaned over the table, interrupting Kenny and Michael’s dinner conversation, which was less of a conversation and more of a one-sided diatribe about the various shortcomings of the new Transformers movie.

“He’s going on and on about how sexy and exciting you are,” Michael answered, “it’s so dull.”

Ibushi shoved him. “No way! I know he’s not talking about me.”

“You don’t know anything,” Michael told him gleefully, “it could totally be about you.”

“What’s Ibushi saying?” Kenny broke off his rant.

“He’s insisting on taking you to a love hotel right this moment, I told him it’s unprofessional, he needs keep his hands to himself,” Michael teased.

“Shut up, he didn’t say that.” Kenny rolled his eyes.

“How would you know?”

“Whatever. Anyway, so like I was saying, by the middle of the movie, what have they even done to get Optimus Prime over!? Nothing means anything! It’s just…”

Ibushi sipped on his drink, enthralled. Michael couldn’t help but think they’d both be less interested in each other if they did share a language in common.

“What do you do when I’m not around?” Michael muttered to Ibushi, “Does he have to look up everything he wants to say on his phone? Is that why it takes you so long to get ready after shows?”

Ibushi shrugged.  

“Getting each other off shouldn’t take so long.”

Ibushi nearly choked on his drink. “We aren’t doing that.” He was trying to sound firm and dismissive, but his face was turning bright red.

“You’re the worst liar ever.”  

“What did he say now?” asked Kenny, oblivious.

“He loves Transformers. It’s his favorite movie,” Michael translated.

“I mean… I guess it’s okay,” said Kenny to Ibushi, who was still tomato red and coughing diet coke out of his lungs.  

…

Ibushi was a terrible liar, but once he committed himself to telling one, Michael found that he rarely went back on it and would defend it even when confronted with overwhelming evidence of its falsehood. The only way Michael was going to get Ibushi to admit that he was fooling around with Kenny - and then get them both to agree to not do it in the locker room after shows, because hey, annoying! - was by catching them in the act.

It was simply the only way.

The next morning, he burst into the gym without knocking where Kenny and Ibushi were alone and felt vindicated when they darted apart. Kenny tried to pretend he was just setting up for a lariat but Ibushi was making no attempts to prepare a counter, putting all his focus into glowering at Michael instead.

“Worst liar ever,” Michael told him again. “You ready to confess yet?”

“Never.” Ibushi’s expression was fierce.

Kenny bounced on his heels, looking nervously between the two of them.

They weren’t to be so easily caught out a second time.

…

That evening Michael had to search all over the venue for where Ibushi had holed them up to get changed and when he did find them, the sneaky bastard had put something heavy behind the door. Ibushi wasn’t sneaky enough though. Michael could hear him shushing a confused Kenny inside when Michael knocked.  

So how to get in?

Well there was probably a window somewhere.

Michael strode out of the venue unchallenged but hit an immediate snag. The side of the building he needed to get to was protected by a chain link fence. Did he give up? Never!

A wheeled dumpster was set next to the building across. Michael moved it against the fence and then he was over. Only detained slightly by the shrubbery he landed in on the other side, Michael continued around the building, his determination never wavering.

The window to the room Ibushi and Kenny were in was open. Unfortunately, it was also on the first floor. Soft laughter was coming from inside. It would be adorable if this whole situation weren’t so inconvenient.

A tree branch hung maybe two feet away from the window. It felt higher than it had looked from the ground when Michael was clinging to the end of it.

Michael gritted his teeth and hurled himself into the little room like a skee-ball into a bullseye, perfectly on target.

And lo and behold, there they were.

“I knew it!! I knew it!!!” Michael sprang up from where he’d crashed. Ibushi grabbed a shirt to cover himself. Kenny in contrast, was remarkably calm for someone who’d just been caught fingering the ace of the company. “What the fuck?” he asked.

“And that…” said Michael triumphantly, pulling twigs out of his hair, “is how easily you could be caught!” He wagged his finger at Ibushi, “So make my life easier for once and stop fucking backstage!”

Ibushi glared.

Kenny opened the door and threw Michael out. His friendship was so underappreciated.

[Forget About Him — Daniela Avanzini]

;; just recently, a sneaky link somehow twisted into your boyfriend—to be honest, you only liked his handsome face and loved to flex him around. and you loved this excuse to reject a lot of annoying guys.

but what you didn’t expect was daniela’s flirting suddenly dissipating.

taglist [OPEN]: @sisisierrasblog, @mashup-writing, @jhayliace, @vivinquisha, @fandomhoppershxt, @vamps4sum, @evs-h, @vinvinvin-who, @jennasslut, @aloneinacity, @wtfisthisnoclueman, @strip3z-12, @nic4her, @kfzxmnz1, @moonpheus, @cantlandonmyfeet, @nokpopnolifee, @dreamingst99, @mseilishmwah, @notheroverthinker, @thgh1, @weepingmanon, @iwanttoberich420, @skz-xii, @multistann32, @dqndelionn, @fein4lararaj, @joleneonvinyl, @ririhatesmen,

fem4fem. 2.4k words.

as of yesterday, the blurry picture where it was your proposed ‘soft launch’ of you and your boyfriend getting together finally after his constant pining on you, your notifications spilled through like a wave and your phone kept buzzing 24/7. it was pretty enough to post on your instagram story, the angle being just right to capture his broad shoulder and your hand laying on his arm, holding on it as if a claim to the world that.. it was true—you were proudly with someone.

in reality, you were intoxicated again the very ‘romantical’ and ‘magical’ night. too careless of what you were doing, losing yourself in the booming track as the background noise in the taken picture and rather you were feeling yourself. hell, you even forgot who your boyfriend was for a second.

sooo, did you regret letting your boyfriend that goes by dean to post that stupid story on your main instagram? definitely when the birds started chirping indicating the morning had arrived.

your friends spammed your phone to the point of it overheating, vibrating underneath your pillow where it alarmed you awake, sitting up and panting hard—eyes frantically searching the surroundings around you to make sure you didn’t have another stupid one-nighter you’ll regret.

with a low grunt under your breath, you barely extended your arms to stretch your body out before clumsily grasping onto your phone from underneath the pillow.

you blinked slowly at the dim screen, eyes slowly widening at the dawning realisation of what happened last night.

you were not supposed to announce the relationship like that.

at all.

out of habit, you ruffled your already messy hair into a further entangled torture to brush the flaws out, a frown now permanent etched on your face.

your phone buzzed, megan’s name lighting up on the screen and you groaned, not in the mood to talk to anybody because of the humiliation you brought upon yourself.

you answered, “what—“

“WHO’S THAT MAN?!” her voice boomed across the room even though the phone wasn’t on speaker, successfully waking you up fully as you flinched back violently.

stifling a yawn, you tried to lie but knew it won’t work and just get you further into this horrible loophole.

“mh.. a man, dunno.” you muttered, swinging your legs over your bed and sat up completely.

“who. the. fuck. is. it?” she repeated herself yet now it sounded like more a threat than a simple question.

giving up on being desperately vague, you sighed in defeat, “fine.. my boyfriend.”

“BOYFRIEND?!” she screamed again and you’re shocked as how her lungs haven’t collapsed yet.

going onto your wobbly feet, you squeezed the phone against your ear and shoulder while your hands clawed onto the side table for dear life.

“yeah.. boyfriend.” you emphasised, your tone painfully dry.

megan gasped, “who? who?”

you rolled your eyes, stumbling to the bathroom. “don’t try to sound like an owl now, it’s.. uhm, dean.”

there was a deafening pause on the line.

dean: the man who’s quite.. questionably suitable to be considered your boyfriend—tall, has a deadly obsession with sports specifically football, overly competitive, a guy you’ll catch with the rest of his popular friends on a random night out, doesn’t have much of a background except sport clubs, and friendly. he was casual, bound to be one of your exes you can mention in a conversation and be classified as some sort of ‘flex’ that you went under his jeans.

not all so embarrassing to associate yourself with, in the public's eye he was suitable to be your boyfriend.

also, rumours has it this year he’ll be the captain of the football team so that may add on your end too.

he was attractive, clean with a signature men’s perfume, and has a slight accent. so no doubt he was most of the girls’ wet dream back at college.

personality wise? a hard fucking pass. he’s a suffocating dickhead around his friends, too loud, too social, and sometimes you wished he stayed as one of your side hoes that belonged to the corner when you were done with him.

he has a pretty face but ugly words comes out of his loud mouth.

“dean.. as in the stupid, football-obsessed freak?” you knew megan disapproved him from the very start when you whispered to her during class that you’re fucking him, it led her to screaming and getting sent out for the majority of the lesson. she never bothered to hide her dislike for him.

“yes, that.. dean, he’s my boyfriend.” you said, tone painfully dry.

you weren’t overly excited as her either.

"he would so pick football and clubbing over you, y'know that?" megan adds.

grabbing a toothbrush and smothering it with toothpaste, you aggressively scrubbed your teeth, “he’s.. not that.. bad and it's not like i give a fuck..” you muffled, trailing off.

“he’s a manwhore!” she exclaimed and you wanted to hang up already since it was the morning and your aching ear was on the verge of bleeding because how loud she was.

“yeah, yeah.. bye,” you hung up, clattering your phone on the nearby counter.

you had to go to college soon and there was no doubt that nosey people would bombard you with accusations and questions of how, when, what, and who?

but your focus drifted on your lockscreen again, amidst the 99+ notifications blowing up your poor phone, not single one came from daniela.

doubt fogged your senses, leading you to checking your phone and tapping on the story you were going to delete later. scrolling through the viewers and likes, she saw it.

no like.

no text.

you gargled, spitting out the water into the sink and wiped your lips with the back of your hand.

before you question it, you glimpsed at the time displayed on the screen and knew you had to focus on getting to college soon enough. looking at the mirror, you fought the urge to claw your face out in despair at facing your classmates and others who would be dying to know who it is, and the reactions.

———

upon arrival at the lecture hall, your personal space immediately was crowded by everyone who saw, cornered against the wall as people eagerly went forward to second-guess the rumours they already made about you and assume who was the man on your instagram story.

a permanent frown etched on your face deepened at their audacity and you stood straight, holding your chin high despite dying slowly inside and praying to the skies above for some prince charming to scoop you up and escape this horrific situation.

but you knew you had to handle this yourself unfortunately, you made the worst decision of your life and posted it on your main story after all.

“it’s dean! it’s dean, okay? he’s my boyfriend and so what?” confidently, you confirmed and glared at anyone who tried to sputter otherwise, shutting their yapping effectively.

with a huff, you pushed people out of the way, ignoring their string of curses and saw daniela in the corner of the lecture hall—her gaze strayed away from the commotion and reservee for her phone.

you decided to approach her first instead of impatiently waiting, you gently reached a hand and tapped gently on her ahoulder. leaning down, you whispered, “yoohoo, earth to daniela?”

she jerked away instinctively, head snapping to the direction of the recognisable voice and pathetically stammers, “w-what the fuck?”

“woah, what a nice way to say hello..” you sarcastically remarked, sliding down to sit next to her without invitation.

daniela remained stiff and un-responding, her back rigid and posture perfect—too perfect that it was a little uncanny.

most of the time, whenever you reach out first, daniela welcomes you with open arms—smothering and pampering you with excessive affection that was only limited to couples and those painfully obvious, not to two ‘friends’. sometimes, you’ll be dragged on her lap even in public, ignoring your flustered grumbles of how embarrassing it is when secretly an explosion of butterflies invades your lower stomach during so.

clinging onto you like a belt around your hips in simpler terms.

pretending to oblivious to times where daniela observes the tiniest details about you: the way you liked your shoelaces, how your favourite type of chips is when it’s folded since it’s crunchier, that your palms sweat uncontrollably whenever you’re either embarrassed or shy.

possessiveness controlled your friendship with her as well, it wasn’t rare when it may get out of hand; daniela despised when your friends got a little too touchy with you for her liking, her passive aggressiveness would be on an all-time high as she would shove herself between you and the supposed poor friend who didn’t sign up for her ridiculous behaviour towards them.

it was just a rather.. discreet way as in ‘back off’.

and on times where she would be more bolder, she’ll even shove people off you if needed (80% of the time it’s not) and pull you into her embrace instead!

the real shocker here is that daniela’s hands hadn’t crawled its way as if it had a mind on its own into your space, yet.

when the lecture was about to begin, megan made a dramatic entrance hollering up into bursts of chaotic laughter with a friend, her arm wrapped around their shoulder as she strides in—unaware and uncaring that all eyes were on her mainly.

her eyes landed on you two and immediately, she ushered a rushed goodbye before striding over you two and collapsing onto the seat next to you, obliviously squishing you between her and daniela.

“hey guys..” she whispers like it’s an asmr, tapping her freshly done nails on the table. “did anybody tell daniela that you got a new boyfriend yet?” out of the blue, she drops the bomb you forgot to tell.

“boyfriend?”

“well—“

megan cuts you off, “yep, dean’s her new man now.”

daniela didn’t seem as amused as megan, her back straightening further if that was possible. “oh,” she simply murmurs, eyes down.

“oh,” annoyingly, megan mimicked with a cheeky grin.

“so that was the man on your insta story?” the latina woman’s eyebrows perks up, staring back at you, eyes fixated yet distant.. as if her mind was in a different place.

gingerly, you tucked a loose strand behind your ear. “uhm, yeah. that’s dean.”

daniela nods sharply, “dean, right. be careful.”

you blinked at her, confused at the sudden advice, like he was some walking health hazard. “why?”

her eyes narrowed, “don’t you know? didn’t do some background check on him? he’s your boyfriend.”

megan chuckles awkwardly, budging in. “well, y’know there’s some rumours and that. he parties quite a lot.”

“everyone does,” you insisted.

daniela huffed, crossing her arms and faced away. “still.”

she didn’t know why she was acting upset, why.. there was now a sudden stronger urge to distant herself away from you: preferably de-attach completely for a few days to calm her raging emotions down.

an awful, strong bitter taste forms in her mouth, the word heavy whenever the word ‘boyfriend’ rolls off her tongue—since now, the term applies to you having one. that you have someone else dear other than her, that you’re in someone else’s in arms, that you experience skin-to-skin with another being.

her hands fists underneath the table at the mere thought.

megan remained obliviously on purpose, “so.. should we plan to have drinks tonight with the rest to celebrate this?”

your lips parted but daniela beat you into it, “count me out.”

abruptly, she stood up and gathered her things, shoving them in her bag and made no effort to pretend she cared if people were watching or not—including the old man who was trying to teach, flabbergasted at her behaviour as she stormed out, slamming the door shut with a final, resounding thud.

your jaw slackened, “..what’s with her?”

megan blinked, processing what just happened. “uhm, most likely on her period. y’know, usually her period starts when the month ends—“

you squinted your eyes at her in suspicion, “what? how do you even know that?”

she scratches the back of her neck, her lips thinning together into a line. “haha, uhh.. well, long story. anyway, i need to go as well. we’re like blood sisters, haha.. got my period too! anyway, bye-bye!” giving you a chaste, farewell peck on the cheek, she throws the strap of her bag on her shoulder before rushing out of the lecture hall too.

leaving you alone in confusion of what happened.

megan gritted her teeth, seeing a familiar figure fleeing in the corner of her eye to another hallway and quickened her rushed steps to catch up, plus her height gave her some sort of advantage as her legs closed the distance between her and the other woman in no time despite the head start.

“daniela!” she shrieked, arm extending to wretch her wrist and halting her in her steps.

the latter paused—shoulders way too tensed—refusing to face her at all.

“i know you’re upset, dani.” megan tugs on her wrist gently, trying to coax her to a confession hopefully.

daniela inhaled sharply, “i am. dean isn’t a good fucking guy.”

megan’s eyebrows raised slightly, “it’s her problem, not yours. maybe let her learn her lesson, y’know?”

fiercely, daniela faces her and blinked those burning tears away harshly. “no, no.. you don’t get it. he doesn’t deserve her.”

caught by surprise, megan leans back. “girl, i know—“

“NO YOU DON’T!” daniela shrieks, violently pulling away and stumbling back.

“mierda, sorry. look.. you.. i-i’m just not in the right headspace right now. don’t invite to me that whatever you’re going.” she breathes, hands instinctively tangling in her curls and tugging at them in irritation. no, not even irritation—it was clear it was much more than mild annoyance.

megan’s arms limply falls by her sides, “alright. even though you look like you’re in a dire need for a drink right now, i.. won’t. just don’t kill dean while you’re at.. recovering.. mentally? you seriously on your period or something?”

daniela bites back another outburst, “mind your fucking business.”

before she could storm off, megan shouts after her, "are you gonna go back to one of your boy toys again?! you're gonna get her worried for no reason!"

fighting back on the body-consuming urge to scream back, daniela's nails dug into her palms to control herself.

"let her be fucking worried." having a nonchalant front, daniela roughly pulled her hoodie over her messy hair and stomped over to one of the dorm rooms she knew by heart whenever she was upset or stressed over something.

this time it was to forget about you.

to forget about everything.

[Forget About Him — Daniela Avanzini]

;; dean loves to play basketball, his motto being ‘play to impress’. you never cared about it, of course.. why would you? yet life was like a game—maybe similar to basketball, play low ‘till you can be at the front again, to that specific person’s face. but you weren’t ready, you wanted to stay low forever at this unfortunate point.

taglist [OPEN]: @sisisierrasblog, @mashup-writing, @jhayliace, @vivinquisha, @fandomhoppershxt, @vamps4sum, @evs-h, @vinvinvin-who, @jennasslut, @aloneinacity, @wtfisthisnoclueman, @strip3z-12, @nic4her, @kfzxmnz1, @moonpheus, @cantlandonmyfeet, @nokpopnolifee, @dreamingst99, @mseilishmwah, @notheroverthinker, @thgh1, @weepingmanon, @iwanttoberich420 , @skz-xii , @multistann32, @dqndelionn, @fein4lararaj, @joleneonvinyl, @ririhatesmen,

fem4fem. 2.1k words. (lwk a filler chap soz but next ones the climax)

too tight, everything tightly entangled around your chest the moment your senses dashed right into your hazy brain—jolting you awake, wide eyes touring across the unfamiliar bedroom where it was one of the signs that you fucked up last night. memories of last night became the impending gurgling at the back of your throat, grave consequences of drinking too much.

the lingering wretched odour of sex and sweat amidst the wrinkled, white sheets alarmed you of what really happened.

you fucked up badly: an understatement itself.

a heavy masculine body was draped besides you, soundly asleep and purposefully unaware of what obvious occurred between you two, the ridiculous ruthlessly ripped apart woody costume and cartoony cowboy was a joke.

you sat up slowly, the wings crooked and hanging off to a particular favoured side at your back and you threw your feet on the floor. thankfully, your shoes laid nearby and you fit in them easily, sliding inside and grabbing your purse which had your phone vibrating.

an indicator of the worst or the best, none in between.

maybe not now, you didn’t want to waste time in the bathroom and rather run back home to the campus. it was too early in the morning for people to lurk around, specifically the nosey ones so you were safe regarding the.. interesting state you were in at the moment.

today could be your lucky day, you slipped through the crack of the open door, exiting his apartment and stumbling down the stairs to the fresh air which made your face crumble in the sinking shame at what you’ve done the previous night.

arriving at the empty college campus in weakened footsteps, you hopped over to your dorm and unlocked it with clumsy hands—entering it and tripping over, crashing down on a couch with a dull thud.

—

being severely hungover dragged the time of being fresh and ‘ready’ for the day where you wanted to sleep off to hours but hey, at least you did the bare minimum.

a loud yawn echoed throughout the living room, your eyes snapped onto a body stretching their limbs and you were about to scream in alarm then saw the disheveled clothes and exhaustion layered upon the recognisable face.

“manon.. what’d—why’re you here?” you questioned sleepily, slowly blinking at her.

disapproval stings from her, it radiated off her in waves as she stepped closer and examined your neck for any signs of hickeys or kisses as if you did some crime.

“what?” you backed off, giggling.

she didn’t laugh along like other times where she would burst out into bigger bursts, “i’m being serious. and where were you last night? i stayed tonight just in case you were here and you weren’t.”

you sighed, head throwing back against the couch. lying will cause even more problems and manon was your close friend, her lips was always shut, and she never pursued in gossiping—especially about you.

“fucked around.” you admitted and her gaze steels.

“seriously? you fucked around? with some rando?” almost manon explodes in your face and drags you forward, forcefully straightening your sluggish posture.

“unfortunately..” you trailed off with a wince under your breath.

her scowl deepened, “you have a boyfriend, y’know?”

lazily, you looked up at her. “since when did we care about that? my priorities don’t lay around for him.”

“yeah but you never reach so low.”

your eyebrows raises up from the sheer irony coming from her, “that’s rich coming from you.”

“are you that fucking heartbroken ‘cause of daniela?” she said out of anger, no consideration at your clueless end or vulnerable expense.

she didn’t let you speak, too immersed in her little rant. “i mean, yeah she got a boyfriend now, maybe since you got one which makes everything so much more complicated and difficult! and now that means we all can’t really hang out together, and does all this discourse of that fucker dean who had the honour to be yours really bug daniela that much?—“

reaching out, you shook her violently from her shoulders. “manon, girl.. breathe.”

“I AM BREATHING! THERE IS JUST AN ELEPHANT IN THE ROOM THAT MUST BE ADDRESSED!” manon shouts half-heartedly, now panting hard that her breaths becomes wheezes of exhaustion to point out the obvious to you.

shuffling around, you hips bucked up so you could plop onto a pillow comfortably since you knew this agonising discussion with her at early in the morning needed compromising. “what’s the elephant in the room, huh? that i cheated on my boyfriend in disdain for daniela?”

“mainly that you cheated around,” manon corrected gruffly, jaw ticking as she faced away from you.

“you know me, manon. you never really cared in the first place so i don’t know what has gotten in you all of a sudden—“

“you shouldn’t have cheated with some random fucker! especially some man that most likely doesn’t even go to our college!” out of genuine agitation, she tucks on her hair strands when facing you, still avoiding her eye contact but the words spilling out fierce enough for you to pause.

trying to seem serious, you nodded along even if you were being berated right there for your foolish actions. hungover hit you hard always, who could blame poor you?

“okayy.. so the problem’s is who i cheat with? who am i supposed to do it with? you?” your light teasing fell to a choked cough and a very awkward silence veiling the sudden rise of a thick, heated tension between you two that you never took notice of before.

“i’m the best option out there, no? i’m clean, you heard some things,” she brags, not trying to seem desperate as she shifts around, eyes down on her lap and sucking her cheeks in slightly to not say anything else stupid.

“things i so did not want to hear,” you wished the things you heard about manon to be erased from your horrible memory forever.

manon tilts her head at you, “i’m still disappointed, y’know? if you really needed someone, you could’ve went to me.”

“manon,” you sighed, shoulders slumping. “i was so out of it, seriously. but what’d you mean by going to you? giving me cigarettes won’t cure shit anymore, girl.”

“i can offer much more than just cigarettes, baby.” she adjusts her hat, looking at you with raised eyebrows and a certain glint in those dark, immersive eyes that held too much depth in them that you couldn’t force yourself to miss out on anymore.

your throat was dry out of nowhere, clearing it quietly.

“girl, stop playing around!” angrily, you slapped her arm and she laughs, squirming further away from you on the couch to dodge further attacks.

embarrassed, you let out an exasperated exhale and the moment you thought everything would cool down, manon adds something else on.

“i’m not, though.” she crosses her arms, all cocky now. “if you need a release,” leaning in, her mint breath caresses the shell of your ear, “you know where to find me.”

“stop joking around like that,” you protested, voice conveying not much conviction against it.

“just giving you some necessary details, y’know? and are you gonna play it low now since you’ve cheated?” unaware, manon bit her inner cheek, waiting for your answer.

“i got to, at this point.” rubbing your temples, you let out a low groan and slumped backwards.

manon incoherently hums, “mhm.. speaking of playing, your oblivious lil’ boyfriend’s playing tomorrow for the college’s basketball team. you going?”

oh, you forgotten about that.

also, you forgot to reply back to his various texts from last night and new ones in the morning.

not like you were planning to reply later, anyway.

“do i have to, really? look at the state of me—“

manon cuts you off swiftly, “still fine as fuck, come on. i’m going there as well.”

“i don’t wanna face dean—“

she gave you a sharp, pointed look. “out of guilt? shocking.”

“no, it’s just that.. everyone’s there.” miserably, you tried to hint that someone else could be causing worry within you.

“yeah, duh..? why wouldn’t everyone be there, it’s fucking huge.” confused, manon stared at you like you grew two heads.

“no, manon. everyone will be there, like everyone.” you emphasised strongly, using your hands.

“daniela?” in a snap of a finger, she finally got the hint and sighs at your persistence. “so what? it’s not like she would care, she’ll be too busy with her.. new man.”

that made your mood worse, “so why should i go?”

“i’ll keep you distracted, just.. count on me. nobody else.” she leans in, squeezing your thigh out of comfort than anything more.

—

nonetheless, you were here.

fierce roars of applause and whistling echoed throughout the basketball court, silencing the heavy panting of those engaging in the intense rivalry that sparked through tensed interactions days before—people even rumoured that some of the players fought behind the scenes, including dean, and you hoped that he got beat as the result.

he played at front, too cocky to accept any back further as he swiftly dribbled with the ball forward and dodging his rivals as they desperately tried to get in his way; he ignored his teammates calls as well, too focused on slamming the ball in the towering hoop from afar.

the grin stayed upright like his posture, sweat trickling down his face and then when the opportunity was right there, he took it with all the effort he had. throwing the ball above his head, dean’s eyes fixated on the ball dashing through the air before getting dunked successfully into the hoop.

all of his teammates ran to him, slamming each other with their chests and whatever gay shit they had going on in disguise.

dean soaked up in their praise, chin lifted up and his eyes wandered for you and waved at you enthusiastically when he spots you in the screaming crowds.

you didn’t bother to look before manon forcefully nudging you, “he’s trying to get your attention.”

“he can try all he wants,” you retorted, brows stuck together as you stared ahead at particularly nothing.

manon laughs, arm wrapping around your shoulder casually and you let it happen. “oh shit, i fucking forgot..” she whispered as she giggles.

you smiled knowingly, “did you think i would care about him before as well?”

without another word exchanged, she shook her head and grinned wider.

you continued, “exactly.”

“i know who’s attention you want so badly,” manon pulls you closer, her hand firm on your chin as she led your gaze to the corners of the crowds to a certain couple where they were gravitating so much attention without doing too much. it didn’t even seem like they were romantic despite the supposed ‘title’ suggesting otherwise.

daniela positioned herself so she would be perceived like she was leaning on the man yet she wasn’t, her face neutral and cool as she assesses the situation of the basketball game.

your face twisted into something bitter and unrecognisable, “fuck off, manon. seriously.”

“what? it’s super normal to want your dear friend’s attention sooo badly,” manon bats her eyelashes at you innocently, irking violent thoughts in your head against her.

“she’s been avoiding me,” you sigh hopelessly, your confidence faltering.

“too obvious. before the party too, actually ever since you bagged dean.” manon noted, looking at you as if checking that you were genuinely okay.

well, right now.. you tried to act like you weren’t.

that it hasn’t been constantly bothering you.

“what’d you gonna do about it?”

you didn’t know yourself but simply shrugged at the uncomfortable question, “i don’t know, just let it be.”

“so just let it be? let it simmer till’ it explodes?” manon lounges back, hands resting at the back of her head casually and legs spread a little that you noticed too much than you should.

“maybe,” gruffly you admitted.

then your eyes drifted off to those two subconsciously—by accident and you wished you never did because an unknown emotion you didn’t know stung deeply in you was spiking higher, fiercely clutching on your senses as you witnessed the horrific scene before you that was crowds away happening like it was a fucking convenience.

daniela and her boy toy, making out right there. messy, unemotional and just out of the heat of their whispers maybe. you don’t know nor did you want to know.

you had enough.

you stood up abruptly and manon flinched back, giving her a stern look with brows stuck together in confusion.

“y/n.. what are you fucking doing?”

and you didn’t reply, moving on your steady feet using your aching heart guiding your steps towards them.

read green lightning.