#& it 2 was GOD awful & fucking miserable to watch. but anyway

[theexorcistiii]

WHAT ever thinking about this it 2017 pennywise concept art

[bi-writes]

who to call to clean up after an "accident" than your sick and twisted military boyfriend? :D (dark!ghost x dark!fem!reader, 18+)

cw: dark!reader, dark!simon, horror movie vibes, graphic depictions of character death/murder, unhealthy relationship dynamics, one slip of daddy, smut, unprotected piv, simon "spit in my mouth" riley, reader and simon are kinda psycho :D

you've been so nice to her. really nice. you've let it slide off your back whenever she doesn't do her dishes. you pretend you don't notice when she borrows your shoes from the hallway and wears them out to dinner. you hide yourself in your room when she has her awful, loud guests over, and you have never once said anything about how she takes her sweet time in the shared bathroom in the morning and makes you late 2 days a week for work.

but this? this?

she needs to keep simon's name out of her fucking mouth.

"excuse me?" you say finally. your roommate is shrugging on her jacket to leave, her purse in her hand as she types on her phone, using it as a way to not make eye-contact with you. her long nails are tapping against the screen, and it feels like fucking drip water torture. "what the fuck did you just say?"

she sighs, irritated, rolling her eyes as she keeps tapping away at the screen.

"you're so dramatic, it was just a fucking joke."

"you know, i let a lot of things slide," you laugh, humorlessly, and you cross your arms over your chest as you follow her into the kitchen. "but you need to be careful what you say."

"i don't do anything except call it like i see it," she says, tossing her hair over her shoulder and looking at herself in the reflection of the mirror hanging on the wall. "you need to just...go out more. man like that isn't gonna stay for long if you don't give him something to go for. he's bored, you know. when you have him over here all the time. and i've totally caught him peeking at me after i shower, y'know."

"well why the fuck are you wearing nothing but a towel when my boyfriend is here, anyways?" you snap. "he's trying to be polite, he's a guest. what if i wore a fucking towel when you had your guy friends over?"

she laughs, poking at the edge of her lip to fix the gloss of her pout. "trust me, honey, no one's looking at you in a towel."

you step back, a little shocked. she rolls her eyes again, sighing.

"i didn't--"

"are you kidding me?" you retort. "you're the worst fucking roommate in the world, and i put up with all your bullshit, and now you're going to go so low as to insult the way i look just to make yourself feel better?" you make your way around the kitchen island. "you don't wash your fucking dishes, you steal my fucking clothes, you're always late on your rent so i have to spot you--"

"you know what, just because i'm fucking happy, and you're not, doesn't mean you have to take it out on me!"

"i am happy, you sorry bitch!" you cry. "i'm so fucking happy, you're the only thing in my life making me constantly miserable!"

"oh, shove it up your ass, you ungrateful little shit!" she snaps. "you're just so fucking insecure and hate me so badly just because simon would rather fuck a girl like me than have to spend another minute with--"

the crack of cast iron against her head shuts her up. it dents the side of her head easily, and her face smacks against the countertop before she crumples to the floor.

it's so fast. one minute, she's yapping, high-pitched voice straining your ears. the next, she's silent.

and she won't say simon's fucking name again.

you watch with bated breath as she folds into herself, her head hitting the hardwood last, a slow puddle of blood beginning to grow under the tendrils of her hair as your eyes move to the heavy pan you're still holding in your hands.

fuck, that's a lot of blood. god, you thought she was just full of fucking air.

you drop the pan once the rush of anger leaves your chest. it thunks onto the ground, and your hands shake as you see the specks of blood that are on the back of your hands, sprinkled over the shirt you wear. it stains your bare legs, even your toes, and you don't even want to look at the spray of it along the counters.

you should be crying, you think. you should feel bad. you're trembling a little, but you think it's just the adrenaline beginning to fade and not the guilt you know is supposed to be racking your insides.

you turn your eyes back to her. her eyes are dull. she doesn't move. it's so quiet now, utterly silent, and you take a deep breath as you take in the silence that you've craved for a long while now. you make your way quietly out of the kitchen, stepping over her body before going for your phone that sits on the coffee table in front of the couch.

you keep your eyes on her as you put your phone to your ear. it rings, and you tilt your head to the side as the blood begins to spiderweb under the kitchen table.

"'ello?"

you blink, looking towards the door. you clutch your phone a little tighter to your ear.

"simon?" you say softly. "a-are...are you busy?"

he hums lowly, chuckling, "no' at the moment, swee'eart, why?" he asks. "mmm...missed y'r voice..." you close your eyes as you hear the buckle of his belt. you try not to picture your giant of a boyfriend leaning back on his worn couch and shoving his jeans low enough to fuck his fist. "tolk t'me, luv...tell me 'ow much ya miss daddy."

you clear your throat gently, willing yourself to ignore the soft squelch of what you know is his hand around his cock, to not let it distract you from what's more important. "uhm...i liked the flowers you gave me, simon. t-they were beautiful."

the sounds on the other end of the phone quiet. you hear shuffling, and then a few moments later, the clink of his car keys.

"tha' right, baby?" he asks, and you close your eyes as you hear the front door of his flat opening. he's already on the way, already coming.

"yeah," you sniffle. "really nice sunflowers."

a yellow flower. he huffs on the other end of the phone, breathing a little easier.

"good girl," he murmurs, and then the line cuts. you set the phone down, making your way back to the kitchen and taking a seat at the table. you watch as the blood continues to curl over the floor. you make no attempt to help her; you just swing your feet under you as you look at her spoiled outfit, just grateful she isn't wearing your shoes or one of your jackets. you would hate to have to throw something out that she got all dirty.

there's a curt knock at the door ten minutes later, and then it opens. simon shuts the door behind him, cracking his neck by moving it from side to side before narrowing his eyes at you. you bite your lip, blinking, forgetting suddenly why he is here when he looks so fucking good. he's got a sweatshirt on under his windbreaker, worn jeans tucked into his boots; you like these jeans, his ass looks incredible in them.

"wot happened?" he asks. you stand, remembering your place. your lip starts trembling, and simon's eyes soften just a little. he's wearing his balaclava, hood up over his head and jacket zipped up, shadowing any true expression on his face. his gait sounds heavy as he lets his hands out of his pockets, coming towards you. when he steps into the kitchen, his eyes dart towards your roommate who's still on the floor, laid out unnaturally just by the oven.

he lets out a low breath, clicking his tongue under the mask. you hold your breath as you wait for his reaction.

"bloody hell," simon mutters, reaching up and throwing his hood off. you wring your hands together nervously, your eyes beginning to sting with tears. you brace for the accusations, for the inevitable terror of facing the music. simon is military, for fuck's sake, why the fuck did you think turning to him would be a good idea?

"i...i-i--" you start, looking up at him, and he holds up a hand, taking the side of your face into his palm before smoothing a gloved thumb over your bottom lip. you blink in confusion, not understanding.

"'s olright, baby," he shushes you, shaking his head. "don't cry."

"simon, i--" you sputter a little, gripping his wrist gently. "i just--i couldn't do it anymore, she just--"

he pities you. maybe you can explain. maybe if you tell him a warped story of what happened, he can help you. he must know someone. he must have important friends, he must--

he uses his free hand to move his mask up over his nose, and you lean into him when he bends, kissing you warmly. your eyes flutter shut, and you shuffle closer as he kisses you sloppy, kisses you hot. you mewl as he slips his tongue into your mouth, licking over your teeth and humming low as he pulls away. his eyes are flashing.

mmm. love.

"hmm..." simon licks his lips, smiling a little. he looks over you, almost pensive, his eyes scanning over your face before he settles back on your eyes. it's tender, the way he looks at you. romantic. "let's get this off of ya."

he reaches for the large shirt you are wearing, pulling it up and over your head. he crumples it into a ball before tossing it on top of your roommate, nodding his head behind you.

it's then that you realize simon isn't going to do the noble thing. he isn't going to call the police. he isn't going to turn you in, make you explain, he seems uninterested in knowing what really happened. no, he already knows what happened. but that's not important.

his pretty, perfect girl got into a little trouble. and he's going to make this go away.

"go on, luv. take a nice shower, yeah?" simon turns you around and pushes on your back gently. you suck in a shaky breath when he fondles your ass, pulling on your panties gently. "mmm...take these off, too."

you slip your panties down your legs, handing them to him.

"they have blood on them, too?" you ask, wiping your face, and he chuckles lowly.

"nah," he shrugs, stuffing them into his back pocket after taking a little sniff. "these are just for me."

jesus fucking christ, there's really something wrong with him. there's something really, really wrong with him.

and something wrong with me.

simon looks you up and down, his eyes catching on your naked body for just a few moments before he nods his head again.

"go on," he tells you. "before i get distracted." you pause for a moment, tilting your head back a little as he reaches out and cups one of your breasts in his big hand. you bite your lip, swallowing back a heavy breath as he flicks his thumb over your nipple gently. "greatest tits 've ever seen," he mumbles, scrunching his nose under the mask before he lets you go. "yeah, go on, baby." it takes everything in you to walk away when you see him reach down with that same hand and grip his bulge through his jeans, adjusting himself as he turns back to the mess in the kitchen.

when you shut the bathroom door behind you, you hear shuffling in the living room. the coffee table scraping. the couch being pushed. the rustle of the rug you have there. he grunts a little, and you hear his boots track from the kitchen back to the living room.

you turn the water on hot. you decide to take a bath, not looking at yourself in the mirror as you sink into the tub and plug the drain. you make the water scalding, and it soothes your sore muscles as you rest your cheek against the edge of the tub and stare at the door.

you're not sure how long you stay there. long enough for the water to nearly slosh over the edge of the tub and for simon to swing the bathroom door open, seemingly done with his...tasks.

he's taken his sweatshirt off. just a black t-shirt tucked into jeans, and there's a slight pant to his breaths that tell you he's exerted some energy. you notice he has his gloves still on, but before he touches you, he takes them off and tosses them into the sink.

"move over," simon mutters, starting to undress. you look up at him as he undoes the button on his pants, shucking his shirt off and into the corner before dropping his jeans. the water swishes as you sit up, and you swallow hard when simon kicks his boots and pants off, his cock hanging heavy as his mask is the last to hit the floor.

fuck, he's so pretty.

he has no regard for his size. he simply steps into the tub behind you, taking a seat. he looks comically large in your small bathtub, and you squeak a little as the water spills over the edge of the bath and wets the floor. he hums as he feels the hot water on his back. you don't say anything as his hands start to turn the water a little red. you just look up, away, at him.

you shuffle between his legs, tucking yourself into his space. you can't help but look him up and down, admiring his naked physique. he's just hot. big arms, thick thighs, sunburnt tattoos and scars cutting across his face. he hasn't shaved today, so there's some stubble along his jaw, but your eyes focus a little too much on his girthy length, heavy as it sits on his stomach and leaks a little there. his fat stomach, all solid and pudgy, such a nice place for you to rest your hands.

"you did good today," simon says finally. you look at him, and he tilts his head to the side. his approval makes your chest warm. "callin' me like tha'. wot a good girl you are."

keeping quiet on the phone is what he doesn't add out loud.

you purse your lips, trying not to keen at the praise, but it's hard not to when he reaches over and slides his hand over your shoulder, thumbing at your jaw.

"i-i didn't...didn't know what to do," you admit, and he clicks his tongue, shaking his head. you didn't know what to do, so you called him. level-headed enough to not do something rash and call someone else, no, you called him.

"mmm...tha's wot i'm 'ere for, luv," simon soothes you. "made such a little mess..."

you close your eyes. it's sick. deranged. fuck, it feels nice.

why don't i feel anything?

"i know. i'm sorry."

"nothin' ta be sorry about."

you slump into his arms, resting your cheek on his solid chest. you can feel his cock pulsing against your tummy, and you adjust yourself in the water, straddling him as you rest your chin on his pecs and look up at him through watery eyes.

you aren't sad. no. not sad at all. simon has shown you what he will do for the you. the lengths he will go. what he'll forgive just to take care of you. he's so capable, so understanding.

sick. twisted. mine.

"then i'll just say thank you," you mumble, grinding your hips slowly. simon hums, a wicked smile coming over his scarred face. he licks over his bottom lip, big hands gripping you by the fat of your hips as you grip the edges of the tub for stability. "say thank you to my big, strong man for taking such good care of me..."

he chuckles, his eyes lowering, watching your tits sway as you fit your pussy over his length and grind down on him.

"tha' so, baby?"

you nod.

"mhm," you whine. "how can i thank you, my big boy? how can i show you how grateful i am for cleaning up after me, hmm?" you bend at the waist, kissing him wet and warm, and he hisses as you suck his tongue into your mouth. he tastes like cigarettes, and normally you would curse him for it, but right now it tastes so much like him, and you lick around his teeth trying to taste more of that sweet nicotine.

"fuck--such a naughty little girl..." he snickers, reaching down. you sigh when he slides his big palms over your ass, forcing you to grind slower, the tip of his cock sliding through your folds leisurely. you grip the edges of the tub tighter, pressing down to give you more leverage to grind down harder. "make such a mess, oll the time..." you gasp when he presses into you just enough, the tip breaching your entrance and forcing you to squeeze around him, your cunt trying to suck him in. "olways needin' me ta pick up afta ya..."

you giggle, sliding your hands up his chest, gripping his shoulders for leverage as you sink down onto him. he grits his teeth as you do, his eyes focused on the way his cock disappears inch by inch until you're seated down in his lap, his length kissing deep and twitching excitedly. he always feels like a teenager again whenever you fuck--like you're the first pretty girl to ever wet his cock.

you cup his cheeks finally, smoothing your thumbs under his eyes as you bring his gaze up to meet yours. you swallow hard, looking down at him.

"i-i love you, simon," you breathe. he stills underneath you, his jaw clenching as he frowns just a little. you come a little closer, nuzzling your nose against his, your thumb falling to trace the outline of his torn lip. "i should've said it a long time ago...i-i..."

"heart's beatin' out y'r chest, luv," he mutters lowly. "'s olright...'m not goin' anywhere."

it's so disgusting. you should be fucking ill. you should be scrambling to the toilet, your breakfast halfway up your throat. you should be crying, emotional, begging simon to tell the cops that it was all your fault, because it is. he should've come here and made you do the level-headed thing and confess your terrible crime.

he shouldn't be here, sitting underneath you in your tub, cock-deep inside of you after helping you commit murder and then fucking clean it all up.

"what did i do?" you gasp, sitting up. you move to get out of the tub, but simon growls, putting two firm hands on your ass and shoving you back down on his cock, making you cry. "w-what did i do? s-simon, why don't i feel bad, why am i not sorry--?!"

simon tsks, feigning comfort. he juts his bottom lip out into a pout, mocking your little cries.

"oh, luvvie, don't start cryin' now," he chuckles. "don't start pretending like y'care."

uhm...

"simon--"

"no one likes a liar."

you're still trying to pretend, and he knows this. you're still trying to act how someone normally would react. someone normal, someone who thinks rationally, would never have picked up the pan in the first place. and even if they had, they would've scrambled, cried, picked up the phone and confessed, called an ambulance as they tried to get her to start breathing again, put both hands on her chest and tried to get her wake up.

but you didn't. you watched, unnervingly calm, as she stained the hardwood with her blood. you watched as her eyes glassed over, lifeless, and you watched as her insides began to paint the floor in abstract shapes as you gave it time to spread. and not once during that time, or waiting for simon, did you think to help her.

you didn't want to help her. and you certainly didn't think she deserved to get back up. maybe she hadn't done anything quite harsh enough to deserve death in someone else's eyes. annoying, overbearing, rude.

but it's hard to feel bad when she talked about simon. when she called him by his name. when you've seen her let her towel slip when he's in her vicinity, trying to coax him into her room when you're looking away.

you should've taken one of the throwing knives that simon hides in his boot and thrown it at her then, just for that.

"we're cut from the same bloody cloth, baby," simon says, almost accusingly. you grip the edges of the tub, trying to stand again, but he cants his hips and fucks up into you, drawing a frenzied moan out of you. you reach for his shoulders as he does it again, his tongue darting out before he licks a fat stripe over your pebbled nipple. "'s olright. 's okay, luv. don't worry. don't hafta get y'r hands dirty, swee'eart, i've got it."

"but simon," you whine, but all he does is shake his head. you don't have to put on this morality act for him. you don't have to pretend that you are sorry for something that you had every right to do, you don't have to explain to him why you aren't feeling the way you should be feeling.

simon doesn't care about how you should feel. he only cares about how you actually feel.

"she was in y'r way," simon grunts. "always bein' a bloody brat." he fists your hair and brings your mouth to his, groaning as you tighten around his cock. "'ow many times did she fuck ya over, baby, hmm? 'ow many times did she steal y'r fuckin' things, come outta the loo wearin' nothin' but her fuckin' knickers, yeah? 'ow many times?"

you kiss him, frantic, digging your nails into his pecs and dragging them angrily.

yeah. fuck her. fuck what she did to me, fuck the way she behaved, fuck her stupid face and her stupid attitude and her stupid little games.

"called ya names..." he's hitting your sweet spot now, making you cry from pleasure. your pussy feels so hot, squeezing him because you know he's right, and the way he fucks this time makes you think he really knows what you are and knows exactly how to get you there. "wot a fuckin' twat. deserved every bit o' it, baby."

you meet his eyes, dark and cruel. he's still moving, still holding onto your hips and drawing out little whines, but it's different suddenly, it's more. you nod, understanding.

simon is terrible. no good. his head isn't in the right place, maybe it never has been. you wonder, briefly, if this is what he does when he's at work, if these are the things that he's used to. maybe simon has been in service too long--maybe he doesn't understand that you aren't at war here, that you can't just kill and clean up, that you aren't in the field.

"she deserved it," you whimper, and he grins, all teeth, all mean.

"tha's it."

"she was such a bitch."

"fuckin' right."

"she got what was coming for her."

"nnghhh--fuck, baby, gonna make me fuckin' cum, tolkin' like tha'," he hisses. you practically smack him as you grab onto his scarred face, gritting your teeth as you glare down at him. his lips part, and you spit in his mouth as he fucks up into you, thighs hitting your ass with a wet smack that makes your head spin.

"and i'll get rid of the next bitch that so much as looks your way, simon."

the kiss is searing. hot, blinding, white noise fills your ears as he cums with you, stuffing you full as he cums hard, a pained groan leaving him as he collapses against the porcelain tub with a harsh thud. you follow him, chasing after him, kissing him between heavy breaths as you don't make any effort to move off of him. when simon opens his eyes, he can't help but smile.

he's never seen his reflection without a mirror.

[piedinthepiper]

Before: Disease ˖ ⊹

Yandere!jimin x bully!reader

Summary: Before everything went down in his doctors office

Warnings: bullying, mention of smut, swearing

Wc: 2.1 k

A/n: someone requested the backstory to disease, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it!

This can be read as both a pt. 1 or pt. 2 to Disease. They can also be read separately, you decide!

Disclaimer: This is 100% fiction. I am in no way saying that this is how any member of bts would act. Nor do I condone the actions detailed in the story. This is purely for entertainment purposes only. If any of the warnings trigger you, or you’re under 18 ¡do not read! I’m not your mother, and I don’t take any accountability for what you decide to read online!

How could you be so perfect? Walking down the halls with your books tucked close to your chest. Talking and casually laughing with one of your friends. You always walked front and center. Like you were the mean girl. But you weren’t. Or you were, but he didn’t mind. You were his mean girl. You were the only reason Jimin hadn’t dropped out of school yet. He actually looked forward to every day now. Knowing that he’d see you. And if he was lucky he would maybe even get to talk to you. Or more you talk to him. Yell at him. Call him names and insult him. That’s what he loved so much about you. Your honesty. Always so straight forward. You were just perfect. Gorgeous. Always in skirts, sometimes they were really short. Not that he looked or anything, he was sure you would kill him if you found that out. But he was a man wasn’t he? What’s wrong about admiring a good pair of legs? You wanted to show them off didn’t you? He wondered if it was for him. If you knew the effect you had on him. The way he would think about you while touching himself. Pretending to fuck you pretty pussy instead of his cold hands. He knew it would happen one day. One day you would realise that the two of you were meant to be. He had known that since the day he met you. He would never forget that day.

“Watch it, nerd.”

The three first words you ever spoke to him. Jimin stopped in his tracks, looking over his shoulder to see who he bumped into, but also who that angelic voice belonged to. He was met with you. The most beautiful eyes he’s ever looked into. He stood there in awe. Taking in all your features. Eyes trailing up and down your body. Once he reached your eyes again he saw that your perfectly shaped eyebrows were frowning.

“Eww what’s wrong with you?!”

You asked sounding almost disgusted.

“Did you see the way he looked at me? Oh my god.”

You asked your friends who all looked even more disgusted than you.

“You could at least say sorry you know?”

“I- I’m sorry.”

“I- I-. You’re pathetic.”

You mocked him before turning around and walking away.

“Watch where you’re going next time loser.”

One of your friends added before she joined the rest. He didn’t care for your friends. All he could think about was you. Your words who were supposed to hurt him, had another impact. All he wanted to hear was your voice again.

Three years later his feelings were still the same. Your bond had only grown stronger after that eventful day. Your relationship had become a daily thing, and he couldn’t be more happy.

“God you’re such a nerd.”

You said as you sat down opposite of him, throwing your bag onto the floor next to you. He was studying for the next science exam in the library, one of the places he never thought he’d meet you. Not that he didn’t think you read or anything. It just didn’t suit you. You were too gorgeous to be surrounded by yellowing walls and cheap plastic chairs.

“Y/n!”

He said your name a little too excited, and was met with yet another disgusted facial expression.

“Anyways… you’re going to help me.”

You said.

“Sure. I’ll help you.”

You scoffed at his answer.

“It wasn’t a question.”

You added mockingly.

“You see, I need to pass the science exam. And the only one I know that has a miserable enough life to even care about science is you.”

He tried his best to hide his growing smile. You addressed him as someone you know. You think about him!

“I can make you pass.”

“You better.”

You got up from the chair and brushed off imaginary dust from your skirt.

“When you’re finished you’ll switch papers with me. I’ll make sure we’re seated next to each other.”

He was too busy checking out your figure to even comprehend what you were saying at that moment. You snapped your fingers at him.

“Hello? Stop fucking looking at me, freak.”

You said, and brought him back from his thoughts. That’s when he understood the reality of your words. If he switched papers with you he would fail, and he couldn’t put his career at risk. No matter how much he loved you.

“I don’t think I can do that.”

He stated and looked up at you, scared of what you would say next. You crossed your arms over your chest.

“Again, it wasn’t a question.”

He got up from his chair when he saw you were about to turn around and leave.

“Seriously, y/n. I can’t fail. I won’t get into-“

“Blah blah blah. Does it look like I care? You’ll do as I say.”

You interrupted him. He gulped at your tone, sometimes you could be really scary.

“But-“

“Listen here, dumbass.”

You suddenly reached over the table and grabbed him by his collar.

“How hard is it to get into your thick skull, huh?You don’t want to know what I’ll do if you don’t do as I say. Alright?”

He nodded carefully, and you let him go. You stayed bent over the table though. Jimin couldn’t help but look at your prominent cleavage. You slowly moved your hand to his face, he was ready to feel the embrace of your hand. He closed his eyes waiting for the moment, but was met with the sudden feeling of his glasses being slipped off his nose. He looked at you again, confused.

“Take this as a warning.”

You said coldly and threw the glasses on the grown. Thankfully they didn’t break. But the feeling of relief suddenly stopped as he watched your foot stomp down onto them. The sound of broken glass was heard through the library. He let out a little gasp.

“See you in a week.”

You said before you walked away, swaying your hips as you exited the library. What the fuck was he going to do?

He knew he had to help you. He didn’t want to end up with a broken nose, even if it meant you would put your hands on him. Besides he’d do anything to help you succeed. Maybe he would even get a thank you? He thought, bringing the science book even closer to his face. You had broken his glasses, a bit unnecessary in his opinion, but he won’t question your judgment. In order to study he had to have the book so close to his face he could feel it brush against his nose. He had come up with a plan though. If he studied even harder he could be able to finish your test super quick, and then he could just fill out the same answers on his own. It was his only option. So now he sat in his dark room with only the small table lamp lit. Book in his face as he desperately tried to remember everything for the exam.

He walked into the classroom, mentally going through all the information he read the night before. He saw you in the back. A finger twirling your gorgeous shiny hair as you looked him up and down. The sight alone was enough for his pants to tighten. He moved his textbooks down to his hips so you wouldn’t see the effect you had on him.

“Nice glasses.”

You sarcastically said. Giving him an evil smile. He pushed his new glasses higher up on his nose as he sat down beside you.

“Not even a thank you? How rude you are, Jimin.”

He almost moaned out loud when he heard his name fall from your lips. You rarely used his name, so whenever he was lucky enough to hear it from you he would usually have to go to the toilet and jerk off. If only you knew what you did to him.

“I’m sorry.”

He mumbled. You just scoffed at him before crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair to listen to the teacher who started speaking.

The exam went great. He had to spend a few minutes on erasing your scribbles on his sheet. It wouldn’t be appropriate to hand in an exam with “nerd” written all over it. But it went well, you didn’t get caught and both of you would get a good grade. He couldn’t be more happy. Until he saw you approaching him. He was sat outside, eating his lunch in his usual spot. You would always eat with the rest of the popular people inside. You would never eat outside in a secluded area on the ground, that’s just not you. You wouldn’t hide, like he did. So he knew you didn’t come to join him. He quickly swallowed before you were able to talk to him. Ready to hear whatever you had to say. But you walked right passed him. He followed you and your friends with his gaze as he saw the three of you heading to the parking lot. He realised that he wouldn’t get a thank you, that he wouldn’t even get to talk to you after he just saved your ass.

“Stand up.”

He suddenly heard your voice coming from right beside him. He looked up to find you with your hands on your hips. A displeased look painted your face. Again, he swallowed before standing up.

“You fucking creep!”

You yelled at him before delivering a harsh slap to his face. He couldn’t help but moan at the feeling. He reached for his cheek that had already turned red. He looked at you and found your face was in pure shock. Did he really moan that loudly?

“Did he just-“

He heard one of your friends whisper to the other. His blood went cold, he had never been so embarrassed in his entire life. Your mouth turned slowly into a devilish smile.

“How fucking pathetic was that?”

You started laughing, and your friends followed. He tried to make himself smaller. He wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

“I’m s-sorry.”

He stuttered out and looked down at the ground. To his horror he found out that his pants was definitely bulging as well. He crossed his hands quickly over the area, not wanting to be tormented yet again. But it was too late. You looked him up and down.

“Please, don’t tell me you have a boner.”

You let out a small laugh, a “eww” was heard from your friend. You stepped closer to him. So close that his back had to press up against the concrete wall. You looked him deep in the eyes, your smile turning into a smirk. God, he felt like coming just from you being so close. Smelling your perfume and feeling your hands on his chest. His breathing rapidly increased.

“Do you think I’m hot, Jimin?”

You whispered to him. It took a few seconds for him to comprehend what you were saying. Too focused on the feeling of your manicured hands on him. Eventually he desperately he nodded.

“Do you want to fuck me?”

You asked with a small laugh. He couldn’t believe his ears. Was this his chance? Was this the moment he finally got you? He nodded yet again. You tsked at him as he felt your sharp nail tracing his cheekbone.

“Use your words.”

You said.

“Y/n, what the fuck are you doing?”

He heard one of your friends say from behind you. He didn’t look at her, only taking you in. He couldn’t believe this.

“Shut up!”

You quickly looked at your friend. Warning her in a mean tone. You turned back to him. Finding his dark eyes.

“Jimin was just about to say something.”

He couldn’t even remember his own name in the moment. Every single one of his senses was filled with you. He feared he would actually orgasm soon if you didn’t back off.

“Please- Y/n. Yes, I want to fuck you so bad!”

He begged. Almost yelling at you out of desperation. In the next moment you were laughing. He didn’t understand what he did that was so funny. Maybe he had been a little too forward, but you didn’t seem to care about that in the first place.

“Oh god. You’re almost cute.”

You said as your fit of laughter came to a stop. You stepped away from him, crossing your arms.

“I would never ever fuck you, pervert.”

Your tone turned from sensual to mean right away. His heart dropped to his stomach as your friends laughed at him.

“You’re so dumb! You really thought you had a chance with me! I wouldn’t even blow you.”

Yet again he felt like he wanted to disappear. How could you be so evil? So absolutely heartless? In that moment he realised what he had to do. He was going to get his revenge one day. Just you wait.

——————————————————————————

Thank you for reading! Do you want to read more?

Masterlist

[tuesdayisfordancing]

Picard 3.3 thoughts part two:

“He’s not ‘Dad’.” “He’s a good man.” Relevance, William? Kid hadn’t said he wasn’t (though he will procede to lol) just pointed out that some guy you meet when you’re 23 isn’t automatically your dad because of genetics. (Also aw he said please.)

That being said Riker is pretty cute here overall. And Jack’s understated wtf face when he says “I spent 2 decades watching you get cooked up before you were born” is great. What a thing to say about a guy’s parents.

“Bigger the legend the more disappointing the reality” this is about WESLEY and I’m not wrong.

Um. Did they add the DNA line after seeing all the jokes about the accent being genetic or? I’m gonna be honest it would have been better by my lights to ignore this rather than call attention to it, but I’m sure some people prefer a slightly awkward explanation to none.

Oh my god I was right he literally did say “ugh no thanks” to the whole concept of having a dad. I thought based on the delivery of “I never had one” that I was wishful thinking. This is amazing. Oh man I gotta rewatch the first two episodes with the knowledge that Jack knows exactly who this dipshit is.

Holy shit Picard you PHENOMENAL JACKASS??? Literally changed his fucking mind about whether he should have protected Jack upon learning that Jack knew who he was and hadn’t wanted to meet him??? What the absolute everloving fuck????? !!!!!!

“I think it might be time you called me Number 1” was good

Raffi and Whorf are very cute but I’m having trouble getting properly invested because I just. Don’t we should be starting from a place of her being isolated and miserable to begin with!

Mixed feelings about Beverly being a better doctor because she doesn’t over rely on fancy new tech. I mean, I like it mostly but. Hm something bugging me and I can’t put my finger on what.

Beverly completely ignoring the CMO’s hypothetically being in charge is fantastic though because it’s both a strength (in this case she was needed!) and also an arrogance that could absolutely have led to her getting in the way and causing problems. Hope this is explored more.

She summons Jack to help her! Because they are a team! I don’t know like on the one hand it’s obvious, if nothing else probably the doctors and nurses on the ship would hesitate whether they should listen to her when she’s arguing with their boss, but the whole thing just felt like it got across so well the way they are used to relying on each other.

How is Raffi’s hood staying on while she runs? She and Whorf continue to be cute as hell.

Seven Jack teamup!! This was actually a secret item on my wishlist that I didn’t mention because it had nothing to do with themes I just really like Jack and want him to get to do cool stuff and what’s cooler than bonding with Seven? Also as far as I’m concerned this proves that that one fic is canon.

Are there going to be. Consequences later for Jack knocking out a security person or are we just skipping that? LMAO the doors though.

I really thought that guy was like, going to assume Jack was the bad guy, not that he was the bad guy? But anyway I’m ALWAYS down to whump the pretty boy. Yes please.

Curious like a proper sucker about the Seven hallucination. “Connect the branches. We’ll be together soon. Find me.” What does that mean! I also wonder if he’s picturing whatever’s going on as Seven just because actual Seven is there talking to him, or for another reason?

Hmm, okay it’s not that Picard doesn’t deserve a significant share of the blame but Will you were in command, you made the call to listen to him!

[theseventhoffrostfall]

When it comes to high fantasy settings, what are the typical elements and setting details that you really like?

Sorry, saw this earlier but got distracted arguing with a Kazakh about juice

Anyway, it's a broad question, so I invite a follow-up one if I don't end up answering in the way you meant, but just what springs to mind is:

1..) a bit of realpolitik. It doesn't have to get bogged down in conference room melodrama, and there can (and should) still be cultural and ideological factors involved, but I find it a lot more interesting when major players are motivated by long-term strategic goals, need for resources and trade, and at-times-delicate relations with their neighbors rather than just being The Good Kingdom motivated purely by righteousness and altruism in their fight against The Evil Empire that seeks to establish Mandatory CBT Monday across the entire world because the emperor just fucking hates uncrushed balls.

2.) Disunity. Bringing this up in the fantasy community is preaching to the choir, but writers keep fumbling it, so I still appreciate seeing it done well. Most non-humans in fantasy settings tend to be not only politically unified (if you're lucky, within a few archetypes/ethnocultural groupings per race) often under one ruler, but so similar in ideology and temperament that they're fucking interchangeable. "Elves are patient when dealing with the shorter-lived races" "Dwarves are gruff and obsessed with clan honor". This is more a problem in eastern media that models itself off western fantasy conventions, but I've ranted about those in the past and will rant about them more in the future, so I won't harp on it too much now

3.) fantastical elements hitting that particular balance of believably familiar and yet duly respected and reacted to by the people living in the world. This one's a bit difficult to explain, though I'll resort to some of what we discussed in @astromancerlich's discord the other day. Magic shouldn't be eternally numinous and mysterious; we have records of people trying to make love potions and curse tablets and such historically, people will eventually get used to stuff and start thinking of how to use it, so Farmer Bob shouldn't shit himself when he sees a goblin or watches a wizard animate a broom to sweep up, but conversely, things that are of genuine import should get treated with such and not turn into jokes like a lot of modern fantasy. A Paladin isn't just some self-righteous asshole that everyone puts up with because he can smite good, he's a god's wrath walking the earth. A dragon on the horizon should inspire near-religious awe and terror. Hell, an "adventuring party" is, like I've said before, a gang of dudes who consider things that we award Medals of Honor for in real life to be a day's work. Just thinking about how people would react to these things rather than "oh, of course the librarian is used to adventuring parties coming in to translate the ancient text written by the Children of The Gods after a tablet of it was recovered in a buried city"

4.) Frankly, somewhat basically and what may seem like it contrasts a bit with the above, a sense of actual fun and adventure. A lot of stories, particularly ones that persistently rely on The World Is In Peril, end up with a cardboard cutout world and a bunch of miserable assholes trying to save it no matter how much detail went into the setting. I want the sense that this world is a pretty cool place to live and that going on adventures, kicking in doors like a fantasy badass is exciting and engaging (combat should always be treated with the seriousness a life-or-death situation warrants, which doesn't contrast with the point, but that's another rant for another day). It's high fantasy, whether it's a gang of dubious mercenaries or a party of epic heroes, the story should leave you on a high or at least bittersweet note

[trentcrimminallybeautiful]

as always, so many fucking possibilities. for one, if the original goal was to be offputting and obnoxious, then like.

scenario 1a) ted can’t. he just can’t. the man’s too likable. most endearing man on the planet. he’s too nice and he’s got that midwestern politeness. maybe they just pivot to charming the pants off everyone or maybe it just goes miserably.

scenario 1b) ted can’t…… until they start being rude, horrible, and outright homophobic/transphobic to this really cool guy ted’s just met and suddenly all that passive-aggressive midwestern politeness is full-force and it’s not the brand of obliviously offputting/intimidating beard might have pulled off, but he is DEFINITELY annoying some relatives and functioning as a shield and ally. trent’s heard, battered from consistent exposure to the people who are supposed to love him but frequently put him down and make him feel awful instead, flutters a little helplessly in what one might call a swoon at someone not only outright defending him--seemingly with genuine feeling, too, not because he’s being paid—but just existing as someone who is there and on his side. y’know. almost as if he’d brought a r—

scenario 2) ted is shockingly good at this actually. ted was a theater kid and he’s generally a very nice guy but don’t you just want to go apeshit sometimes? ted dialing up the bastard energy to an eleven because god these people deserve it. also see: part of this rude involves him being obnoxiously affectionate with trent (after asking first) so now mr touch-starved over here has this handsome man constantly putting a strong arm around his waist and kissing his cheek obnoxiously and whispering in his ear (totally normal words, very suggestive position) and etc and is. Dealing With It. anyway ted just getting to go full apeshit is very funny

and like no matter what the scenario. GOD. so much to unpack here. trent feeling alone and alienated at this—is it a wedding? a holiday? a reunion? i lean towards a big holiday meal of some sort that’s like, quasi-reunion, like thanksgiving or whatever, but also honestly just having a fake boyfriend to take home to his parents is also fine, albeit both have different pros and cons—dinner, like always, and just being so frustrated and angry and hurt and miserable about it, and—maybe they’re constantly on his back about his divorce, in a variety of ways (the more people, the more variety: insinuating he’s not a real man for letting her go, insisting he should try and get back with her for the child or that they just worked so well together, dear, outright denying he’s gay, stonily refusing to acknowledge any of it or even just him in general, or obnoxiously insisting they’re totally not homophobic they like, watch will & grace, or trying to set him up with some guy they know from work he’ll totally love (he’s quite possibly half trent’s age and they have nothing in common other than “homosexual”), generally getting on his back about dating and finding someone new and so on and so forth) and generally just. the snide comments, the alienation (if it’s a bigger reunion, there might be some more tolerable shades in there—also see, always the lovely shade of a few kid cousins that are the only people he can actually talk to without wanting to slam his head into a wall, but you know, they’re kids, so who knows how awkward that is at first if he doesn’t know them well) and thankfully his ex has his daughter (“you couldn’t pay me to go back to a crimm family dinner” which he can’t blame her for, especially considering, but still stings a little, especially because—) but it’s still just. awful.

so the dumb plan, on impulse, seeing some whatever-the-equivalent-of-craigslist-is-these-days ad about playing boyfriend for obnoxious family in return for getting to eat the homemade meal/a small sum/whatever, and thinking what the hell. bringing a real boyfriend would cause huge problems anyway, let alone an intentionally obnoxious/offputting/whatever one. Only due to Whatever Fuckin Happens, ted’s the one who ends up there instead of beard. (although actually that would be a fun fic in its own right—like just trent & beard brotp trent accidentally makes a friend via beard confusing & annoying the fuck out of his family/parents and then accidentally develops a crush on his new friend’s best friend and has a bit of a crisis about it? but that’s a whole other rabbit hole I don’t want to get into atm)

and ted’s. trent hadn’t expected someone so… nice? and affable? and painfully sincere? they, by necessity, have to talk a bit/get to know each other a little first, just enough to sell the ruse, and trent’s still closed off (this is a stranger he hired off the internet to be his fake boyfriend. he’s not going to be open right away.) only ted’s honestly just. so immediately disarming and trent just. likes him? for real? oh no.

and again whether ted’s inexplicably charming trent’s family and then mildly but firmly shaming them about their behavior (???) or just going full-throat passive-aggressively polite bastard (they can’t tell if trent’s new boyfriend is insulting them or not and there’s enough plausible deniability that if they try to start a fight about it they’ll look like the asshole! damn it!) trent’s just—got an ally. right there. on his side. (really rotating that casual affection thing, too. they talked about it beforehand and maybe edited it a bit on the fly in stolen moments bc trent is quickly becoming more comfortable with ted, a relative stranger, than his family, actual relatives. which is really more an indictment of his familial relationships but still. wow. because he’s feeling more comfortable with ted and ted’s willing to push the ruse further to mess with these people they end up going a little more intense with it then trent at the beginning of the night might have gone for. it’s still probably not extreme (unless this is a last hurrah trent is literally planning on disowning himself at the end of it and now he just wants to fuck with them, in which case he is fully in ted’s lap, but that’s potentially more crack) but like. trent’s a little alarmed with how much he’s already enjoying this ß man who either has not realized or refuses to acknowledge that he is very, very touch-starved and also has the standards of a circus peanut squashed underfoot and ted was like, nice to him (admittedly ted could pass much higher standards but honestly he had trent at “was genuinely nice to him” although the handsome looks don’t hurt)

something something fake relationship shenanigans ANYWAY (pretending to be intimate and saying “fake” words about it, the bonding of mutual shenaniganship and coming up with backstory and whole Bits to do, developing actual feelings, cursing yourself the awkward tension between false intimacy and real emotions) and trent again realizing not only does he feel more comfortable with this guy he’s literally known for like a week then he does with anyone in his family other than his actual child (and some level, even his ex) but like. this is the most genuine fun he's had in ages. it’s still kinda tainted by how he’s constantly on the defensive but ted will almost effortlessly distract him or pull him into a bit or even outright defend/redirect the offending person, and it’s. nice. he doesn’t know how to feel about it but it’s nice and weird and vulnerable

something something again just the bond of being in on the joke, of shared shenanigans, of being ridiculous together and coming up with a perhaps overly elaborate backstory (?) or whatever, and that conflicting directly with the actual emotional hurt trent’s got going on with the whole thing (he’s trying desperately not to care what they think and is not succeeding)

something something trent confessing some of the deeper issues/reasons everything’s Like This (that private, sweet moment usually in a fic like this where they’re out on the balcony or something and just talking quietly…) and ted… opening up back. like it’s something real, like they’re—at the very least—truly friends, or are willing to be, because—

well, then there’s ted’s pov. ted is kind of used to being roped into shenanigans but this admittedly a new one. but like, ted, willing to give it a try, and meeting this handsome stranger who seems a bit prickly, but hey, ted’s crumbled tougher cookies, and then they’re actually at the whatever-it-is and it’s. wow. no wonder the guy’s defensive. but he’s—he’s interesting, and he’s funny, he’s got this sharp, dry wit but he grins (ducking his head to hide it, almost shyly) at ted’s jokes, he gets ted’s references and returns them, and when ted gets on a roll or starts a bit, he plays along, for all his prickly academic ~vibe~. ted just likes him, is the thing. and he listens, too, when ted talks, like he’s actually interested, and he starts off prickly but he listens and he believes and slowly—or, actually rather quickly, considering the time frame they’re working with, heartbreakingly quickly—opens up.

now whether ted has no idea he’s some flavor of queer and this is going to be the start of a very long and complicated friendship/situationship where they become actual friends but kinda… retain some habits from the whole fake relationship thing? whether because they’re “keeping up appearances” (ridiculous) or just because it’s habit and why not, who says friends can’t have an arm around friends’ waist, mind your business (so true kings) but continue to think they’re not really dating for like two years, or whether ted is fully aware and is like huh I’m developing real feelings for trent. interesting. and it’s more of a classic mutual pining situation (+ rom com vibes) who can say. the second is more ficcable, probably, but the first is very funny. i like both

anyway again so many possible scenarios here. one of trent’s parents/older family members pulls him aside and with deep (and awkward, considering the situation) sincerity says they’re happy he’s found someone so caring and good for him and not to let him go (even funnier/better if this is in the scenario where ted is making himself as obnoxious as possible, because then they’ve clocked that’s an act of some sort but fully think trent’s actual boyfriend is just trying to be as annoying as possible as revenge for how they’ve treated him) and trent’s just like (definitely not gonna cry) yeah. he is wonderful

(and he’s definitely not thinking about how he isn’t going to see ted again after this probably and he’s going to tell them all they broke up—orrrr oh my god worse, they plan to stage a messy breakup or something like at the end of the dinner.like. god them staging a messy breakup could go so wrong. on one hand, them going through with it and then trent genuinely feels awful and the fake tears are real. ough. they meet up after for payment or whatever and it’s awful. obviously eventual happy ending but ough. on the other hand, my favorite scenario is the incredibly funny and weirdly fluffy one where the fake fight somehow turns into a fake proposal and trent without fucking thinking says yes. improv gone horribly wrong they just got really into “character” okay--)

another possibility (huge change to this “au” but bear with me) is they already know each other but maybe just like, vaguely, not super well? or even that they’re literally friends god wait no that’s another post. Instead of Craigslist Fake Boyfriend just regular fake boyfriend god I have feelings about that but I do not have the energy to do that post too rn lmao

uhhh also see: something something if it’s a longer situation like going to a secluded place or some sort of hotel thing, they have an Only One Bed scenario. Lovely. they definitely wake up cuddling.

something something trent’s a bit awkward with the teen cousins at first but wonderful with the little kids (something his father and uncles lowkey look down on and/or put down to him being “a woman”) something something the kids like him and one or more of the teens are actually also gay and/or trans which throws an interesting wrench in the works something something ted actually charming some of them inadvertently by also being great with the kids and teens,

also re: this whole thing. i never saw trent as someone with a big family (he has only child energy to me tbh) but this kind of thing works best with extended family—possibly extended family he doesn’t normally see/know very well and isn’t close with (he is sharing the tea with ted the whole time btw)—so there’s that. however that means reimagining this to work with just his parents or even just his dad is so funny. like it doesn’t work the same way but it being trent and this random fucking guy versus his shitty dad and maybe like, some uncles or something, is also funny to me. and potentially way more painful but whatever.

that's not even getting into the hilarious mess that would be trying to squeeze this into a somewhat canonverse au. barely pre-canon and then trent learns his fake boyfriend is the new fucking head coach at richmond (fending off relatives and going TED WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK). during canon and trent's just like hi yes this is my normal boyfriend Famous Gaffer Ted Lasso. etc. god. anyway

anyway the point is: trent bringing ted to a terrible terrible family affair as his fake boyfriend and all the angst and/or fluff and/or crack that could ensue. lmao.

i’m DEFINITELY forgetting some stuff but it’s like, almost 2 am so. I’ll add it later I guess

something something beard has been running a "fake boyfriend for your annoying family dinner" racket and trent really fucking needs his shitty dad/family to get off his back after his divorce only Things Happen and ted ends up stepping in on beard's behalf. shenanigans ensue

[tiktaalic]

i absolutely see why people are insane about it chapter two now. oh my god

im liteallyyyy going to be sick i haven't even. i haven't even watched the entirety of it yet (it chapter two) but i don't think ill make it tbh im not even in the right headspace rn i completely understand why people are crazy over that film! i am so sorry to the people i saw on the dash acting like this over it and thinking wow its literally it what is there to be insane abt

i can't even remember if it's you who's a big it chapter two fan sorry if you aren't this must be weird

YEAH. ITS. it chapter 2: goddamn. You see that shit? That was fucking crazy. Anyway I’m Andy muschetti. Not a good movie by any means. Easily a movie I’ve seen all 3 hours of at least 3 times. Literally opens on a hatecrime. In the supernatural/noes tier of getting told you’re crazy for a decade plus before going actually you know what . You’re right. Richie toZier closeted character of ALL time. edddie Kaspbrak. Well. Eddie Kaspbrak. He’s. Activates certain button combo in my brain of make me crazy. Like that man is GAY and CLOSETED and MISERABLE and there’s nothing you or he can do about it! Last 20 minutes are guy punch after gut punch makes me incoherent to even think about it’s like what if you wanted a happy ending …. But you were gay so instead you stay in miserable stasis while your peers grow and move on and become smiling magazine covers . ITS. it’s . Sorry. It’s like supernatural in that Richie gets absolutely horrific wrap ups to his thread and everyone involved is like yeah uhhh I think it’s really meaningful and a point of growth ! Anyway. Yeah. It chapter 2. Awful movie. Great multi media experience. I will never forgive anyone who has ever posted in the eddie Kaspbrak tag

[professorxsmokesweed]

What’s your opinion on the movie now that you’ve seen it?

oh boy.... what is my opinion! it's a terrible movie no one watch it is the short answer the long answer, which i am putting under a cut:

it's still a terrible movie! the plot.. the plot makes no sense! it is never explained! there's fucking ALIENS??? and i know. i know aliens exist and are involved in the comics. i know comics charles has an alien girlfriend at some point. they should not have been introduced this way!

i don't think we ever even got names for them? unless i missed them? i was just calling the main blonde one "alien bitch" the whole movie like what is going on..... moot found the answer thru google but i will be honest i forgot it like immediately and i know it was dumb as shit like verk or something

anyways. so right off the bat we got space shit and i was clearly supposed to be cool it just... wasnt to me probs cause the budget was $2 and they divided those $2 among paying the cast (having no budget it not a bad thing!!!! ive seen many good movies with no budgets!!! but here its like. they didnt care. also they gave the worst wig in the world to james.) im gonna move into characters now cause thats where my biggest grievances lie like even a movie about dumbass aliens would be bearable if the characters were good and thats often whats carried me through other xmen movies like apocalypse

i don't even know where to start this is such a fucking mess so im gonna start with charles!

uhhh charles was. fucking awful this movie. like genuinely awful i wanted to beat his ass at the beginning i do think charles can be manipulative and put a big goal ahead of the wellbeing of a person in the moment! i love charles having negative traits i love those traits being explored! this.... wasn't it and it felt very abrupt in comparison to the previous movies, which did not really touch on his more dickish traits besides the god complex & how he made raven feel + his awful coping mechanisms. it wasn't movie charles! idk who it was but it wasn't him! if they wanted to show him as a dick they needed to develop more they cant just Do That! raven! ohohoho my beloved raven... ive pointed this out before but the alt timeline is awful to female characters which is especially pathetic considering the og's came out 10+ years before them i cant believe movies from the very earliest of the 2000s did better but they did.. how are you worse than the movies you based yourselves on. back to raven my babygirl. i am so so so sorry you never had any real development or plotline besides the first class "accepting yourself" thing and then nothing actually solidly fleshed out since. the raven that lives in my head does. but thats not the raven in the movies and she got thrown back into her "i wanna leave and do something meaningful!!!" role which i found extremely tired. her and charles can have an extremely meaningful and nuanced relationship but the movies never actually go there and im miserable about it and in this one they just argue about shit they argued over in first class then she got fridged goodbye my sweet angel... sorry they made you say that stupid x-women thing as a throwaway #girlpower! moment at least you didnt live to see the aliens

(on that note i do appreciate the way they showed charles having a relapse with alcohol over her death. that was a small good detail)

hank was like. im glad he developed a spine this movie but also he was forgettable to me personally after the scene where he yelled at charles. him siding with erik was hilarious as fuck but im ???? idk i need to rewatch his scenes to develop strong opinions on him in this movie but im also never gonna do that lmao

erik my other babygirl im very glad the movie had you take a backseat i cant imagine what they wouldve done if he had a bigger role.... the scene where jean showed up was good until he valued the military's opinion more. my king would never. he was hot also in most of his scenes so good for him!!! the entire "im gonna kill jean over raven!!" thing... eh. if they showed us an actual strong relationship be that platonic or romantic between erik & raven it probably would've hit more but they didn't! and so it was just! i mean okay i guess! also very funny how he was sitting on his little gay socialist island like "i've found peace finally" but then they immediately had him go out to kill jean!

regarding the kids in general. i liked scott the most this movie but they were all very! idk the alt ones pale in comparison to the og's for me personally i dont think thats their fault i think its the writing.. it wouldve helped if they all got more than 10 minutes of screen time besides jean but they did not. there was just too much going on it needed Less

they almost had flavor with the entire jean & her little kiddy repressed trauma + her adopted father relationship with charles but it fell super flat probably because of the fucking aliens they also had to work in i think that plot line had the most potential out of all of them tbh

moving on from that the stair scene. that is the most ableist thing i have every fucking seen and i didn't even actually watch it the chat was going crazy about how awful it was so i luckily realized what was gonna happen and paused + skipped over it like im sick thinking of it even now and im abled so i cant imagine how disabled fans feel. whoever came up with that plague on your house burn in hell etc that sounds like a joke but its not i legit want to smash a car with a bat over it (for those that don't know, jean makes charles walk up stairs/drags him up stairs with her powers. she tells him to walk to her before doing this.)

the train fight was good as hell. and the proposal!!!! erik proposed!!! but im gonna say something unpopular: this movie was not worth that one minute of cherik. its like they stabbed me and instead of proper care they gave me a band-aid. anyways,

[lokilickedme]

Somebody help me chill, this is insane.

(under the cut because long and also pretty traumatic, for me at least)

Crazy neighbor, remember her?  Her son destroyed a piece of equipment we had attached to one of our trees at the fenceline last week, she denied it and called us insane liars - that’s the most recent craziness in the ongoing saga of the neighbor from hell.  I was sitting here reading my dash tonight and happened to glance over at the monitor for the surveillance camera husband got me the other day to watch that exact spot (where the equipment was smashed) and guess who I see bent over looking through the fence peering very closely at that exact spot?  Neighbor’s equally insane son, who we know did the actual dirty work.  And I, stupid like I am, took a screenshot of him and then immediately jumped up and ran outside in the dark in my pajamas (nearly 9pm, pitch black, their porch light is off because obviously they’re doing something they don’t want to be seen doing) and I ask “Excuse me, what are you doing?”

This lunatic immediately starts SCREAMING at me - I mean top of his lungs SCREAMING abusive threats, calling me a stupid psycho whore bitch, yelling at me to get my ass back in my house and generally just acting completely off his rocker unhinged nuts - and then his mother comes out and comes over to the fence and gets in my face while I’m just standing there and tells me to mind my own business.  I say I am minding my business, I saw him looking through the fence at my property right where we had vandalism happen last week so I came out to find out why he’s interested in my property.  She laughed in my face and said “No he wasn’t, he was standing right here looking at his phone like this” and she does this little pantomine of someone looking at their phone, which is funny because she wasn’t out there when he was doing it and there are no windows on that side of her house at all.  I ignored her and asked “What are you looking for?”  He kept screaming incoherent animal noises and insults from behind her so I asked again, “What are you looking for?”  And that crazy woman grinned at me and said “We’re just looking to see what kind of new devices you’ve installed!”

OMG.  She didn’t even take a breath in between lying and then contradicting her own lie.  And she’s grinning smugly at me the entire time, gesturing around pointing at our property cams and mosquito light (it flashes and apparently she thinks it’s watching her) and my bedroom window - which means she’s been snooping.  There is a cam sitting in my windowsill, aimed at the spot where the device was smashed.  Every bit of this equipment is on our property, some of it behind a privacy fence.  I tell her it’s none of her business what kind of devices we’ve got on our property, but she just yammers over me, and of course numbskull is still ranting like a psycho behind her, screaming at me to mind my own business and get back in my house and leave them alone.  At this point he’s pulled out his phone and shoved it over her shoulder toward my face and is recording me, which is just...fucking hilarious...because I’m literally doing nothing but standing there in shock and awe at how nuts these people are, and he’s still screaming abusive curses and names at me while he’s recording.

Anyway, for about 4.5 minutes we stood there with them shouting over me (I know the exact time because it was later discovered that our doorbell cam recorded audio of the entire event) and a little ways into it he screams “I WILL TEAR YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF!!”

At this point psycho woman finally turns around and says “Addison Case!” and pushes him back.  He lunges at me and she tells him to go call the police (??what??  I mean...I wish he had...my phone was in my hand frozen solid, locked up because of the glitchy surveillance app I had to install to see the camera, or else I would have called them myself - but my god they really thought I was the one the cops needed to come for??).  Meanwhile I’m just standing there on my own property in the dark in my pajamas, all 5 feet and 120 lbs of me, while this rabid animal - he’s a 21 year old college boy - is lunging at me and screaming nonstop, calling me a fucking whore bitch loud enough for the entire neighborhood to hear it while his phone’s camera light is in my face blinding me.  Crazy lady smiles that smug shit eating grin of hers and tells me to get back in my house, leave her alone, and move the hell away so she can live in peace.

Wow.  Just...holy shit.

This is the person who has allowed her dog to attack my very small 8 year old son on our property and send him to the hospital with injuries last year, then attempt to attack him again 2 weeks ago (he is now 9 at the time of the second attack) - again on our own property (in our back yard this time, in our front yard the first time), has allowed her dogs (multiple) to bark all night long and keep us awake (she leaves them outside and then goes away for the weekend and they bark the entire time she’s gone), then she had her crazy violent son destroy the BarkBox we put in our tree on our side of the fence last week (we put it up as a humane way to get the barking to stop without having to listen to her call us insane liars every time we complain about it).  Yet...she kept repeating over and over and over for us to leave her alone and stop harassing her.

All I could even do was stand there shaking my head.  It was surreal.  And frustrating, because they wouldn’t even let me get a word out without screaming over me, and she was doing that infuriating Karen thing where they shove their hand at your face and grin smugly while they’re telling you what you better do or they’ll call someone to make you.

I actually started laughing, it was so ludicrous.  She’s committed all those vile offenses against us and we’re the ones that need to leave her alone.  We’ve had to file four police reports against her and we’re the ones that are making her life miserable.  I just can’t stop thinking about that Liar Liar movie where the repeat offender keeps calling his lawyer to complain that the cops won’t stop arresting him and the lawyer finally yells THEN STOP BREAKING THE LAW ASSHOLE!!

It’s just like that.  My god.

SO -

She tells him to call the police again, and this limp dick shoves that phone light right up to my face and says “You think she’s worth calling the cops over?  Look at her, she don’t look worth it to me.”  And bitch starts laughing.  My god, these people are subhuman, I swear.  I’ve never seen anyone act like this in my life, over a person doing literally nothing to them.

So she finally orders her rabid son (who is just about foaming at the mouth, I swear he’s making these barking animal noises at me, it’s weird as hell) into the house and they walk away, with him still ranting like a madman until the door closes behind them.  I immediately go inside my own house and call my husband, who was way out at the back of our property in our camper (he self quarantines each day after work out there to protect us because there have been a lot of covid cases at his workplace) and he didn’t know anything was happening.  He immediately runs up to the house and I tell him I caught neighbor’s thug son messing around at our fence and that when I went out he threatened to kill me.

Tom grabs something - I don’t even know what it was, I think it was this piece of board that was sitting by the door, we’ve done a shelving project recently and a couple of leftover pieces have been there for a few days - and he stalks outside toward neighbor’s house.  I hear him yell COME OUT HERE BOY!!! and I stg you guys, if I wasn’t on the phone calling 911 I might have thought about getting naked right there and then because damn.

So anyway, let’s not go there.  This is serious by god lol (look for this to show up in a fic soon though because material like this doesn’t get handed to you for free every day).

I call 911 and say the neighbor’s son just threatened my life and for them to come quick because he’s still over there but I know he’s going to leave any second (this is his mom’s M.O, the two times the police have tried to go talk to her she gets in her car and leaves before they can get from my house to hers, and I know he’ll do the same because COWARDS).  Tom comes back and says the little pussywillow wouldn’t come out of the house.  He’s breathing fire, you guys.  Pure fucking fire.  I tell 911 to get somebody out quick before the kid leaves, and just about 2 minutes after I hang up he does just that - we see him blast past our house in his truck and he’s gone, and then the police arrive about 3 minutes after.  I’m so mad I can’t see straight.  If they’d been able to see him in the state he was in, they’d have arrested him on sight.

Two squad cars (big SUV’s) pull up and block her driveway with full lights flashing, which makes me laugh because suddenly we’ve got neighbors coming outside to see what’s going on.  I meet the officers outside, and the crazy bitch next door does the same, yelling “Hello Officer!” and waving to them as they’re coming up to my porch.

They talk to me and Tom for a long time, I tell them everything that happened, they interview Big (he and Little were inside the open door and heard it all), we fill out our statements and talk with them more until one officer goes next door to talk to neighbor.  We can hear her dripping her fake sugar and spice while they’re talking on her porch and my husband loses his shit - he heads toward her house and yells “We got the entire thing on recording, don’t even try to lie!  Your kid, threatening to kill my wife?!?”  (he’s referring to the camera in my bedroom window, which actually only recorded about 2 minutes because I don’t have it set up correctly yet, but they don’t know that). The officer yells at him to get back, which, yeah - he shouldn’t have done that, but for god’s sake the woman’s peckerhead son just literally threatened murder on a member of his family, this is the final fucking straw and he’s mad.  And as he’s coming back across the yard the officer that stayed with me points at our new doorbell camera, just freshly installed as of about two weeks ago, and asks if it’s on.  We haven’t even really figured out how to use it yet, but yes, as far as we know it’s on.  The incident happened around the side of the house, but the doorbell records audio.

God bless technology.

I invite the officer inside the house and Tom gets his phone, pulls up the app for the doorbell, and starts skipping through the recording looking for the right timestamp.  Up till this point all they have is me saying the guy screamed a lot of abusive profanities at me and threatened to tear my head off, and they’re taking me serious but probably not that serious, you know?  Neighbors fight all the time, wars start over barking dogs, things get exaggerated, we’ve all seen the TV dramas.

Until Tom finds the segment on the footage and starts playing it to them on his phone.  It’s kind of quiet because we were a good distance away, but you can hear the guy screaming just like I said he was.  The officer asks if we have a speaker we can play it through so he can hear the words more clearly, because he needs proof of threat and that’s entirely in the words.

You guys, I’m tellin’ ya, sometimes you get a chance to fucking SHINE.  My husband is a musician and this cop is asking him if he’s got a good speaker.  So within minutes Tom’s got this huge venue-style amplifier designed for broadcasting music to the back wall of a freaking stadium pulled out into the livingroom and he’s hooking his phone up to it, and then he hits play and the other officer comes back from next door to join us and I can tell by the annoyed look on his face that neighbor bitch has likely charmed him and shed a plethora of persecuted tears and spewed her lies about how we’ve been harassing her forEVER and I think for a second that it’s a total loss now, he’s made his mind up in her favor.

And then...away we go.  Tom cranks the volume on the speaker and they both lean in to listen closely.

Just about a minute into the recording they have their proof - thugnuts screaming I WILL TEAR YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF!!!

Both officers nod, close their notebooks, and the second officer makes a phonecall while the first one turns to me and says “That’s terroristic threatening and it’s a class C felony.  You’re going to need to go to the PA’s office with all the reports you’ve filed against them so far and all your evidence from tonight including that recording and hand it all to them.  They’re likely going to issue a no-contact so that he can’t interact with you ever again.”

This is a victory, but it’s just the first step, and I feel sickeningly disheartened that it’s all in my lap to do everything.  I want them to go demand his whereabouts from his mother and just go get his ass and haul him in.  But no, I have a ton of legwork to do now because these horrible people won’t fucking stop.

After several more minutes of me asking questions about what exactly we need to do and where we need to go, etc etc (I’m competent but I’m also fucking rattled, someone threatened to kill me tonight and I’m blanking hard on the instructions he’s giving me) they finally wrap it up and leave.  They’ve been in my house for a half hour waiting for me to finish filling out the report (I had to ask for more paper because honey I’m getting ALL the details in there) and I can just imagine how freaked out neighbor is when she sees what time they finally move their cars from in front of her driveway.

And now I’m coming down from the weird calm that I had through the entire event, and my heart feels like it’s going to EXPLODE.  I had heart surgery two months ago, do I need this??  The pathetic part is that I know now just how stupid those people are, and I know this won’t be the end from their side by any means.  We’ll start finding more stuff broken, or he’ll start climbing over the fence back at the back of the property to steal stuff from husband’s tool shed, or my tires will get slashed.  These people are that dumb and hateful, they proved it tonight.  He said if we had animals he would kill them, and then he made the same threat against me.  How stupid does a person have to be to stand there with his phone out recording himself ranting and making threats against a woman standing in her own yard in her pajamas?  Big tough man there.  And his mama grinning at me the whole time, telling me I’m crazy and she’s concerned for her own safety because of me, while her son is standing right behind her threatening my life.

I’m just...my god, I don’t even know what to think.  I thought people only acted like this in TV dramas, seriously.  I’ve seen some shit in my life but this particular brand of stupid has up till now evaded me, but now it’s been in my face and I’m sort of in shock.

I don’t like guns.  At ALL.  Tom has always had at least one hidden carefully away, safely locked up away from the house, but now there are two inside my house in immediate grabbing range.  He insisted that I let him show me how to use them.  Rules were laid down for the boys - never touch, never, don’t even get close to them - and now there is a box of shotgun shells on my fireplace mantel and a singleshot rifle by the door.  I hate this so damn much.

Don’t pick it up unless you’re ready to use it, he told me.  Without even thinking, I said back, “If I touch it it’s getting used.”

I HATE THIS SO FUCKING MUCH

My god.  I told the cops that the drug lord that lived over there four years ago was a better neighbor than this woman.  They didn’t even laugh.

I guess they’re right, now that I think about it...it isn’t funny.

[katierosefun]

god tomorrow!!! I don't remember ever crying this much watching a show as I did with tomorrow and yet it was just. so soft and gentle to my soul??? like there's definitely some stuff that could be better but overall it's just!! so good and cathartic and so well done and idk where I'm going with this but it's just. lovely djdjekdkd

god yeah! i love tomorrow so much so far--it's only been about 2 days since i started the show, and i'm already about to start episode 8. it's so . . . it's just so good? i think the first episode especially was just so intense, but i think it was a good way to start the show, just because bullying is something that so many people have struggled with.

but anyways: yes. tomorrow feels so cathartic. i tried to write a little bit about my thoughts on the show last night in a post, actually, but then it wound up being awfully ramble-y (even more ramble-y than i usually am), and i was just so . . . god ! ! ! i cry at least once or twice per episode, just because it's so lovely and healing is absolutely the word that comes to mind. because i think that given tomorrow is about . . . grim reapers preventing people from committing suicide, i really thought that i would personally feel a little Not Great at the themes, but i've never seen a show that so . . . tenderly examined people who would go so far as to try to take their own life.

the way that tomorrow so firmly, so repeatedly says that wanting to die has nothing to do with one's strength as a person or whether someone's "just sad", but instead digs right into thoughts about how i don't want to live like this anymore, that's why i want to die--it's just so full of compassion, because i think that even today, a lot of people can't empathize with people who have either committed suicide / have had suicidal thoughts. there's always this underlying judgement, the kind that goes "oh, they're just being too sensitive" or "i think they just like being miserable" or "they're just overreacting"--when in reality, one can't make that kind of judgement because every single life is so heavy and so complex, compiled together by causes and effects and ripples that just cumulate into this person who's just. very tired of constantly losing, in all sense of the word.

also, in general. i think it was goo ryeon who said that what the grim reapers do isn't necessarily to give someone a solution, but rather to comfort, give sympathy, empathize. this show is also fantastic in understanding that there are very real problems that each impacted person is facing--but first off, it's best to help people actually want to be kinder to themselves first. (which gets at what i think the first few episodes especially established: give yourself a genuine reason to laugh. tell yourself to live because the weather is nice, because the weather is cloudy. it wasn't ever your fault. thank you for the hard work.)

also, something i adore about this show is just how it takes everyone's reasons to want to die so seriously? because yeah, i think that the unfortunate truth is that if someone said "i want to die because i can't pass this exam" or "i want to die because everyone keeps commenting on my body" or "i want to die because i met my childhood bully again", there would be a lot more people who would laugh and roll their eyes, because seriously? you want to die because of that?

but tomorrow never does that. it looks at exactly how badly a person can struggle with each of those things. the writer who was bullied in her high school years can no longer smile without remembering all the awful things done to her. she had to try so hard to reach the place where she was, and then it all came crumbling down because she saw a face from her past. or the guy who wanted to die because he could never pass his standardized exams. (god, that one surprised me, but it was such a pleasant surprise, because i don't think people realize just how badly exams can really fuck up a person's idea of themselves. how exhausting it is to study for hours and hours and hours, and still never seem to get the score they want and then resent oneself for not having a good brain--or resent the people who just seem to study for a little bit and get a perfect score. it doesn't seem fair, especially if this person might have had to struggle with so much else in their lives. and that was at the core of that guy's character: he already had to struggle with so much, for his whole goddamn life, i could see why that exam was the tipping point.)

or the woman who was struggling with an eating disorder? that one also hit hard, because i don't think people recognize just how insane an eating disorder can turn your brain over. how it's usually stemming from already existing fucked up self esteem, and how it really never goes away, and god, it must sound silly to be like "i want to die because people keep commenting on my body", but it's not silly, it's understandable and sad.

because i dunno, i feel like sometimes, when people open up about why they want to die, the knee-jerk reaction of particularly mean people is to go "that's a stupid reason to die", but tomorrow says "no, no, i see why you don't want to live like this anymore. i might not have felt it, but i can tell you're in pain and you don't want to live like this. let me help." and it's so . . . god, it's so much! it's so validating! it's so real! it's so real, and it makes me cry literally Every Time!

it's just. there's so much. there's so much, this show is making me go insane and this show is healing and this show really got at the core of why people feel like they have nothing left to live for anymore. i've cried so many tears over this show and my eyesight's actually blurring a little just writing about this show because god, i don't think i've seen a show tackle suicide so beautifully and so compassionately before and i sound a bit like a broken record now, but each episode of tomorrow feels like a warm pat on the back, followed by a firm--but gentle--talking-to. i'm incredibly thankful to the writer, director, cast and crew for creating such a beautiful drama, because i just know that it's probably helping so, so, so many people, including myself. :'))

[uzuitengensfourthwife]

Roommate (Suguru Daishou x fem!Reader) College AU

Warnings: some teasing, my bad writing but other than that none

Word count: 2371

Authors note: and this too was written back in October LKADNHDJF Im so sorry but this just had to be posted here at some point, so why not now? *proceeds to lip bite* Anyways lmao skdnnf I think suguru is so damn underrated and he isnt even as bad as people might think he is so yeah, here is my oh so badly written suguru fanfic. Enjoy!!

(2 months ago)

It was Friday evening, a day you and your roommate usually binge-watched movies and series, but not today. The sudden change in plans was a change you didn't want. After all, the change of plans meant helping your roommate to pack his stuff and help him bring it into his new Unit. A Unit that was far away from his previous one and it made you feel dejected. You wouldn't be able to see him that often anymore and for once you grew close to someone outside of Japan.

, Ow c'mon Y/N. Don't be sad. I bet your new roommate will be nice as well.'' You let out a grown as you let yourself fall down on your bed. , Yeah but he's not you and you're like my only friend here in the Unit.'' Christian let out a chuckle and then suddenly got up from his kneeling position, getting his backpack and suitcase. , Well, you'll be alright, '' he threw some of his last stuff in his backpack. ,,After all my new Unit isn't even that far away.'' - ,,Christian, what is 'not far away' about 30 fucking minutes?'' you huffed in annoyance, sitting up again death glaring your 'ex' roommate. His laugh filled up the room as he threw his backpack over his shoulder, it was time for him to go, and then again you felt miserable. You wanted him to stay, but it was his decision after all. After two full years with Christian you knew you weren't the reason why he left, he left for other plausible reasons.

,, Alright let me help you then.'' You announced, grabbing one of his bags opening the door for him. A smile was plastered across his face as he walked past you with all his belongings. Letting out a last sigh you followed him, hoping your future roommate would be as subtle as Christian...

//

After helping Christian carrying and unpacking his stuff in his new Unit, you just made it back to your Unit. You were tired and felt like a piece of shit. Christian was one of the only people you interacted with on campus and the only one in your unit. The rest of your friends attended Universities in Japan, mostly in Tokyo or Osaka, just the minimum was somewhere outside of Japan, including you. Moreover, it was hard for you to find friends since you lacked in social skills. And having a new roommate would totally throw you off, you didn't even know how you wanted to welcome him, you were just too socially awkward for this.

So when you finally opened the door to your little 'apartment' and discovered a new pair of shoes next to all of your shoes, you freaked out. He was already here and you literally had nothing to offer him. Not even goddamn chewing gum. This would most definitely turn into some second hand embarrasment, you were sure about it. You closed the door when you suddenly heard footsteps slowly coming your way. ,,I'm really sorry that I just barged in but you weren't here so I let myself in.'' There he was, standing in front of you. You recognised him right away. Suguru Daisho, the high school rival of a friend of yours. ,,Well well, if that isn't our Miss Nekoma Manager, Y/N it is, right?'' he leaned onto to wall, giving you one of his smug smirks.

,,Of all people, it really just had to be you, huh?'' you spat out ironically, slipping out of your shoes as you walked up to him. ,,Ouch Y/N, you hurt my heart.'' Letting out a fake sob, he touched his chest and tried to look as hurt as possible which made you sigh out in annoyance, so you walk past him showing no reaction. ,,Jesus, you're no fun.'' - ,, Never intended to be fun, especially when it comes to you.'' As you replied to his complaint, you just plopped down on the little couch, already missing Christian. You really were so close to just change units as well. It hadn't even been 5 minutes yet, but here you are already considering to move out. What an awful day you had. And your next years in Uni would get even worse with him as your roommate.

But things turned out quite differently.

You imagined living with Suguru must be the most annoying thing ever, but you were so wrong. First, you really thought he was just trying to get on your sweet side and then act like an asshole again, but you started to reconsider when he brought home some chocolates for you. It wasn't just that, no he did so much more for you, and all of that in just two months.

He cooked for you, whenever he had time. When you woke up every morning, there was breakfast on the table. He helped you with studying and kept his distance whenever he knew you needed some time for yourself. And most importantly, he never invited friends over, since it didn't take him long to find out you just couldn't interact with people. Of course his teasing side would come out sometimes, leaving some comments here and there, but he changed and not only by a bit no, he changed a lot and even for the better.

Living with him was easier than you thought.

And yet, yet the old things would obviously come back because today you wanted to tell Kuroo, who was and still is one of your best friends from high school, that Suguru was your roommate. God, you were nervous. You knew Kuroo has always hated him and he will most definitely not stop hating him, even despite the fact that you grew quite close to him.

So when you pressed the 'call' button on your laptop, you really just didn't want to tell him, but you had to. Even if you wouldn't tell him now, he would find out somehow. You really wanted to tell him in person, rather than him finding out and then getting mad at you as well.

Once his faced showed up on your screen you smiled and waved, shoving away the nervousness you just had. ,,Hey Hey Tets!'' - ,,Hey! How're you doing over there?'' he smiled, taking a sip from the cup wich was located right next to him. ,,Well Im doing pretty good! How're you and the boys doing?'' Kuroo's face turned dark, making you worry, but once you've heard his answers you couldn't have expected less from such an idiot as him. ,,Well we're all doing pretty good.... and yet I feel broken, Kenma's ignoring me once again.'' He sobbed ironically, making you smile in an instant. You had to admit it, you missed the old times. The time you guys were still in Highschool, enjoying life and just having fun. But over all you just missed your friends, you always see them hanging out with each other, going on trips together while you were stuck with boredom and nothing but schoolwork. Of course your friends were part of the University life as well, however it seemed like they had much more time than you. Less worries than you.

,,You know Tets... I miss you guys a lot.'' You whispered as you nervously played with a stuffed animal, that was standing right next to your laptop. Showing affection wasn't really your thing, yet you missed your group of friends way too much to just ignore it like that. ,,Awe Y/N, we miss you too! Once you're back we're definitely going out somewhere! Oh and you should bring Christian as well!! Come to think of it.... where is Christian?''

You chocked on your saliva. ,,Oh god are you okay?'' Kuroo worriedly stated as you coughed. Why now, you had nearly forgotten about it, and yet all of the good had to come to an end. So when you finally stopped coughing you assured your friend that you were okay, but you most definitely weren't okay, you didn't even know where to start. You couldn't possibly just go ,,Ah yeah forgot to tell you, but Christian changed units. Suguru and I are now roommates.'.There was no way you could tell him. Literally no way.

But while you were overthinking this whole situation, suddenly Suguru made his entry.

,,Eyo Y/N can you-'' - ,, What is he doing here?'' Kuroo frantically yelled as he regocnised Suguru, pointing at him through your screen. Great, you thought. This could've gone better if you had the guts to bring it up earlier, but of course your friend had to find out like this. Luck was definetily not on your side today. ,,Oi roosterhead, still lying about your height huh?'' Suguru smirked as he placed himself right behind you, moving closer to the laptop. ,,Get lost.''Kuroo scoffed and now looked at you while still pointing at Suguru. ,,Why's he here?'' he repeated himself, not leaving you out of his sight once. Yet you looked away, trying to avoid his gaze as much as possible, you would even prefer hiding behind Suguru than sitting here. ,,He's my new roommate... Christian changed units.'' You whispered slowly looking back to see if he was still watching you.

Suguru took his chance and moved closer to you as he purred. ,,Wait, you didn't tell him babe?'' Oh god you forgot the petnames he had for you and you hated him for using them on you now. After he moved in and you finally got along pretty well, he started with all these ridiculous pet names, just like honey. And oh god...this was definitely not going to end well.

,,Can you tell him to fucking leave?'' Kuroo asked, seemingly annoyed of your roommates presence. ,,Alright alright I'll leave, just don't forget our business later.'' and with that he left your room.

The sudden awkward silence that was between you and your best friend was more than just uncomfortable for you. In fact, you hated it, you just wanted to disappear. ,,How long?'' He was the first one to finally break the silence and you knew he was upset, after all Suguru just walked in and you didn't tell him at all. ,,Two months..'' you whispered, full of regret. Kuroo then sighed, hand on his forehead as he leaned back to process what he has just heard. ,,Two months? God.... why didn't you tell me?'' - ,, Listen I was scared.... I know you don't like him but we got along so well..'' you stuttered, trying to avoid his gaze again. Honestly you were scared. All this time you were scared that you might lose your friend, although this might be a stupid reason to end a friendship, you were still terrified.

,,Hey that's fine Y/N, liking each other and having a relationship is fine! Im not even mad I promise!'' You looked at him as he smiled, to let you know that it was fine. All you could do was smile back and be thankful that he wasn't mad at you. ,,Oh and we're not really in a relationship..'' You stated and let out a nervous giggle. Kuroo on the other hand leaned in closer and then whispered. ,,Yeah right hon.'' - ,,Kuroo.'' You warned, holding up your finger just as you were about to scold him. ,,Anyways, seems like you have some unfinished business with the snake, so go for it.'' You huffed, ready to protest that there was no business to finish, but before you could tell him otherwise he disappeared from you screen.

Sighing out in annoyance, you got up from your chair to go scold your roommate for his bold words he has spoken during your videocall. So when you saw him doing some schoolwork you seated yourself in front of him, death glaring him. ,,Just what exactly were you thinking?''you hissed in such a sharp tone, that even suguru backed off for a second. But he quickly collected himself and leaned in closer just to smirk at you. ,,What do you mean babe?" he asked, his voice soft and unbothered. You groaned again, leaning in closer as well. ,,He thinks we have a thing." - ,,So?" his reply was bold, just like as if he didn't care about your current situation at all, which was weird to you since he usually never acted or talked to you this way.

You answered him, voice quiet. ,,So you're just going to leave it there?''

The confusion was plastered all over his face. You didn't really know what left him so confused, but you needed answers and as for that you waited for an answer. ,,Wait wait wait.'' he said, holding up both his hands. ,,Is that disappointment I hear?'' - ,,Never.'' You leaned back, looking away and thinking how to continue this conversation, which obviously seemed pointless to your roommate. But it wasn't pointless to you, your friend literally just hung up on you just because of this stupid statement the guy in front of you had made. ,,Why did you say these things? What did you even mean by unfinished business? That's not appropri-'' you got cut off midsentence. ,,We still haven't decided what we wanted to cook this weekend. That's what I meant babe.'' he stated, as he held up a paper with an amused expression.

,Oh' you mouthed, sitting there in embarrassment as you tried to avoid his gaze. The embarrassment just grew bigger as you realised what you were actually thinking about.

,,Well well, it's okay to have these thoughts about me. But next time you might as well share them with me.'' His grin grew bigger, putting down the paper he just lifted up a second ago. That's it, you thought, he has crossed the line. You then suddenly stood up, cheeks flushing red as you huffed out in annoyance once again. ,,You're the worst.'' you muttered, stomping away to your room in an instant, shutting your door. But something was odd. No, you... you felt something odd happening to you.

You then realised your fastened heartbeat, your hot cheeks, still flushed in a light pink shade,you...you were confused.

Just.... what... what was this feeling?

[thegeminisage]

top 5 moments in broken road?

i literally waited until now to answer these ask meme questions so i could do this w/o spoilers. anyway time to do an ask meme i got questions for THREE ENTIRE WEEKS ago

#5 - "my girl" john/mary reunion

Mary rushes forward into John's waiting arms. He gathers her up and holds her close, pressing kiss after kiss into her hair, tears running down his face. "My girl," he says, in aching disbelief, drawing back to cup her face in his hands. "My girl." She laughs through her own tears, and when he smooths one gun-calloused thumb under her eye she turns her face into his hand, and then he draws her close and kisses her, like they're the only two people left in the whole wide world.

look. am i valid? no. but they compel me. to them their story is just as real and longlasting as dean/cas is to us. so i added a little gutpunch to that reunion because it’s my fic and i get to do what i want >:) actually, even though i made a point of calling john “dad” and mary “mom” in dean’s pov, in this moment, i deliberately used their names - it’s more than just mom and dad, it’s theee john and mary winchester back together after all these years. no, they don’t stay that way, but after a 22-year quest in her name, it still deserves to be like a Reunion. 

(other four are below the cut to spare ur dashes. there are major spoilers for the whole fic, just warning u)

#4 - john getting punched by [SPOILER]

Dean's shoves his father with all his might, yelling, "Let go of me!" Partially because even though just moments ago the dungeon was exactly where he wanted to be, he absolutely doesn't want Dad to be the one to put him there, partially because he's afraid that Michael is about to break free from that cage in his head and vaporize everybody in firing range, and partially because he's afraid that if Dad doesn't let go, Cas will kill him.

But Dean's only got one hand free, and Dad's grip is too strong. Michael and sleep deprivation have made Dean weak; he can't get away from Dad on his own.

Then, when Cas is still just out of arm's reach, Sam lays into Dad with the fiercest right hook Dean's ever seen.

Dean knows that right hook well. That's one of the first moves Dad taught him, one Dad forced him to practice a thousand miserable times—how to stand, when to turn, where to throw his weight—until he honed it to absolute unthinking perfection. And it is perfect: Sam nails Dad right on the jaw with all six feet and change of muscle, sending him staggering back, his grip on Dean slipping free.

Dad slumps against the wall for a moment like he's literally seeing stars, like it's all he can do not to pass out. His nose looks like it might be broken. Dean rounds on his brother; if he was expecting Dean to thank him for that, he's going to be disappointed. "What the hell, Sam?"

But Sam's looking at Dad, not at Dean. "He said," Sam pants, "to let go of him."

i’m normally very anti-punching john, but i feel like if anybody has the right to do it, it’s sam. he’s spent his whole life being protected from john by dean and he finally gets to return the favor! all his problems are solved because he’s literally the bigger man now in every way! i doubt sam would ever punch john on his own behalf, but it is UTTERLY in character for him to do it in defense of someone else, but i bet it was pretty fucking cathartic too. picking sam moments in this fic is like picking children but this...you know, it wasn’t even in my outline. it happened organically as i wrote. and it just. feels right.

#3 - sam telling john to clean up his mess

"Seriously, Dad—we've had enough of your lip service. You're sorry? You want to help? Clean up your mess."

What? John frowns. Does he mean Dean?

But, no—Sam twists and picks up an actual mop and bucket from the corner behind him. The bucket is full of red-tinted water. "Go in the kitchen," he says, "and if Dean says you can use the sink, run some clean water with bleach. We gotta get the blood off the floor, because the longer it stays there, the worse it'll stain—especially on the hardwood."

"Uh," says John.

Then Sam gives him a severe, no-nonsense look that nearly punches the breath from John's lungs—because for the very first time, he sees his Mary in that stubbornly unimpressed face. "Do you understand? This isn't a motel. You can't expect someone else to do it for you. Don't go in the kitchen," Sam says slowly, enunciating every word, "unless you're going. To clean up. Your mess. You want room service—there's the fucking door."

THERE’S THE FUCKING DOOR. i love this bc firstly i believe in man of the house sam and secondly it falls into the same thing of like...sam is finally big and strong enough to protect dean and by god he will make himself an impassable 6′4 between this man and his brother. i think especially since finding out about flagstaff, DOUBLY since becoming a parent, sam is like...so less than impressed with john’s bullshit, and even more impatient than he already was of john’s stupid excuses. 

there’s also this motif of cleaning throughout the fic - in john and sam’s very first scene alone together, they are washing dishes. at first this was a nod to sam and dean doing it in lebanon - dean washing, sam drying - but washing is the “hard” part of doing the dishes; when my mom taught me how to do them i began learning by drying first. so of course dean has been washing and letting sam dry all their lives - almost literally, because john talks pretty early on about dean being a neat freak too, because john simply wouldn’t pick up after himself but still hated the mess. there’s a few mentions of it in the fic, how john liked being able to leave a mess behind in their motel rooms, how he’d prop his feet on the table - but in season 10, it’s sam on his knees scrubbing the bloodstained floors after dean’s murder spree, and in broken road sam makes john wash the dishes, and at the end, sam makes him mop. @maulthots put it best:

like that’s it. that's literally it. and then, finally, john offers to clean up on his own without being asked. that’s Growth™, at least in whatever way he’s capable of it. at any rate, he’s too afraid of getting hit again to NOT clean up after himself lol

#2 - dean/cas car scene [content warning for nsfw and discussion of past sexual violence - scroll down to #1 if you’d like to skip it!]

Cas lets go of Dean, but it's to reposition his hands on Dean's knees, slide those huge palms up Dean's thighs. Dean feels the heat of them bleeding through his jeans. Then, holy shit, Cas rests his thumbs on Dean's belt buckle, and makes eye contact.

Dean wets his lips, a little uncertain. He has no idea what Cas is going to do. "Yeah, okay," he croaks.

Cas leans in and kisses him again while he undoes Dean's belt. Like—fuck, like he knew Dean wouldn't want to watch. Dean hears the zipper on his fly, and all at once it clocks that, yeah, okay, this is really happening. Heart thudding in his ears, Dean reflexively lifts his hips so Cas can pull his jeans off. But Cas only slides them down a little. Then he reaches into Dean's boxers and gets a hand around his dick.

Oh. A small, quiet noise drops out of Dean into Cas's mouth, and he turns out of the kiss, panting as Cas pulls him out of his clothes. He's not sure what he was expecting, but this is okay. Just a handjob—he can handle that. It's good, actually. A little dry, but Cas has a light touch, and Dean has decided that he likes Cas's hands. He knows the shape of them very well.

i really enjoyed writing this whole scene, but this was my favorite part. cas technically does get dean’s consent, which was important to cas and a little bit of a big deal for dean too, but dean didn’t ask what cas was going to do before giving that consent, because he almost...doesn’t care? like, dean’s previous experiences with men were all lousy at best, and violent and traumatizing at worst, and arguably none of them were 100% consensual. so part of him is figuring that whatever happens will be within that spectrum, and he’ll just deal with it being awful no matter what it is because he almost literally can’t picture it not being awful. he's not doing it because he likes fucking men or expects he’ll like fucking cas, he’s doing because he wants to be close to cas, he wants to be away from michael and his dad, and because if he and cas are together now that’s part of the package and he’s just done the full “for keeps” commitment bit, so he’s not gonna pussy out now, right? he trusts cas not to actually harm him, and be closer to “lousy” than “violent,” but he is, in his mind, basically giving cas consent to hurt him, because to him that’s what sex with men IS. and he’s understandably pretty nervous because he doesn’t know what’s going to happen - all he’s sure of is that he won’t like it. 

but then he does like it! he likes it a lot! trusting cas turns out to be the correct choice! because if cas had turned him down in that moment, trying to baby him or second guess him, i think dean would have felt really hurt and angry and embarrassed, he would have felt like he was broken or untouchable. which is why cas took him at his word, but ALSO did pretty much the most tame thing you can do and still count it as having sex. so cas managed to thread the needle perfectly because he knows dean so well and he’s literally been inside his mind and witnessed that trauma and knew everything to avoid doing. so for dean it wound up being TRULY consensual instead of the sort of fake consent he’s used to handing out to johns. if that makes any sense. idk i just really enjoyed doing it. i think a valid reading is that dean has this physical fear of men that is just...not explored very much in fic. and it was nice to write something where cas was sort of able to undo or heal a little of that damage. 

#1 - michael

No, no, no—we can't die—we can't die, we are eternal, we are our Father's most beloved, His favorite son—

No no no no no no no no no—I can't die—I can't die—

Light fills the room, reflecting in Dean's eyes making them look as though they glow. And for the very first time, John sees him. John sees him, John sees him, John sees him—

Where is my Father? Is He watching? Can He see me?

Father, help me, I beg You—please, I don't want to die—

I don't want to die—

i could honestly paste the entire michael scene here, there’s not a thing about it i don’t love, but this was probably my favorite part. and look, i waited NINE YEARS to see michael!dean, i deserved to go apeshit!!! i think the fun thing about michael is that he’s a great foil to both john and dean, the literal connecting tissue, especially when he’s hopping bodies like that. he’s dean’s aggressor but he’s also dean’s twisted reflection, nearly broken by his father’s absence. it was impossible for john to see dean as he really is until michael let him see it through dean’s own eyes.

and then “i” at the end - i knew going in that i wanted a “we” pronoun (though i almost chickened out of it), because michael’s in charge but he’s also making his vessel do things with him, like laugh or scream or hurt people. but when michael dies, he’s alone figuratively and literally, because john’s not dying with him, and his own father has forsaken him too - and that’s the way dean so often felt, and FEELING that was probably the only thing that could possibly give john the motivation to be even slightly less self-centered and shitty. 

michael was my whole reason for writing this fic - because i was livid they didn’t use him to tie dean and john together in canon, because the burden of being his vessel is just one more thing dean had to take...this whole chapter, this whole fic, hinged entirety on the batshit insane dynamic between michael and dean and john. and like there are parts of this fic i was insecure about and wished i could have done better, but this? i think i nailed it. definitely the part i had the most fun writing. 

but like, honorable mention?

"Dude," Dean says, flipping on his blinker so he can pull up beside the local grocery, "can we not do any touchy-feely shit, please? That's—"

"Gay?" Sam suggests.

"Get out of my car."

>:)

[rowanwhitethornisbae]

Faking It Ch 2

A/N: Thanks for all the love on chapter one! I’m defiantly going to make this at least ten chapters so buckle up haha. TW: Language 

Aelin couldn't remember when she’d lost count of the number of shots she’d taken. All she knew was that the alcohol coursing through her veins offered temporary relief from the breathtaking pain. The pain that had her sobbing so hard that she vomited her guts up each and every night. These pointless high school parties were her only escape from reality. Her parents were dead. Who gave a fuck about anything. Stumbling a little, Aelin made her way over the kitchen sink, prepared to vomit if need be. 

“Are you okay?” A low voice asked from behind her. 

“Fine.” She muttered and leaned against the counter for some semblance of balance.

“You don't look it.” The stranger said kindly. 

“Well isn't there some saying; Don’t judge a cover by its book or whatever.”

The mystery man laughed and Aelin finally lifted her head to look at him. He was handsome. So much so that if she hadn't already been leaning on something she might have swooned. His eyes were green, the colour of a pine tree in the dead of winter. The sleeves of his white shirt were rolled and a tattoo crawled down the length of his arm and decorated the edge of his collarbone. 

I like men with tattoos. She thought. 

“Thanks.” He said, laughing awkwardly under his breath. 

Oh shit. She avoided meeting his eye, instead landing her gaze upon his silver hair. 

“Do you dye your hair.” She asked casually. 

He seemed slightly taken aback, but smiled all the same. “No. Do you?” 

She gasped as if it was the most preposterous thing he could've said and ran a hand through her long blond hair. 

“I’d sooner eat snakes.” Aelin grinned.

“People all over the world do that voluntarily.” The green eyed man mused. 

An image of someone eating snake popped into her head and Aelin suddenly felt bile rise in her throat. Before she could vomit on the perfect stranger, she bolted from the kitchen and into a vacant bathroom. Gagging, she fell onto her knees and was violently ill. 

So gently that she barely even noticed, her hair was pulled back from her neck and shoulders as her stranger eased himself onto the cold tile beside her. When Aelin had finished vomiting, she wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and slumped against the wall. 

“Thanks.” She said, tying her hair into a messy bun with shaking hands.

“I’m Rowan.” He answered, extending a hand. 

For the first time in weeks, she felt a smile tug at the corner of her lips. 

“Aelin.” 

“Miss Galathynius are you even listening.” Her math teacher’s voice snapped her out of that very unwelcome flashback. 

“Do you want me to lie to you?” She asked, earning a few laughs from her classmates and an elbow to the ribs from Aedion. 

“Take a walk.” He snarled, and Aelin breathed a sigh of relief. She needed fresh air anyway. 

The hallway was practically empty, save a few students on their way to the bathroom, and Aelin started towards the side doors to the parking lot. She passed a locker that had been decorated for someone’s birthday. Streamers flowed down from the top, framing the collage of photos perfectly. The girl in question looked to be a freshman, with a bright smile on her face and eyes that screamed innocence. The things Aelin would do to go back to freshman year. To live with that lack of knowledge and trauma that she so desired. But she couldn't. 

She was rounding the last corner when something made her stop dead on her feet. There, leaning against the wall in a way she’d seen so many times before, was Chaol Westfall. Still, it wasn't the sight of him that send her heart into a flurry. It was the girl fiddling with her hair opposite him. It took Aelin a minute to recognize her. Nesryn Faliq, they had advanced chemistry together. She laughed at something Chaol said and reached out a hand to brush his arm. Shivers ran down Aelin’s spine at that hint of a touch. Chaol smiled back at Nesryn and leaned in to whisper something in her ear. 

Unable to watch anymore, Aelin turned on her heels and bolted to the women's bathroom. She was breathing too hard, her heart racing much too fast to be healthy. God this was an awful time to have a panic attack. Slowly, she managed to calm her breathing enough to splash water on her face. 

This was bad. Really fucking bad. They’d broken up barely 24 hours ago and Chaol was already flirting with the entire female population of Terrasen High. Fine, maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration.

Clearly Lysandra had been right. Aelin slumped down against the wall and curled her knees to her chest. She needed a rebound, and fast. Aelin pondered names as she ran her fingers through the grooves in the bathroom wall. Name after name came forward and she found herself subconsciously shooting them all down. 

Nox, Fenrys, Sam, Lorcan, Sartaq. None sounded right. 

In fact, the only one she could ever see herself with was Rowan Whitethorn. The silver haired senior who’s heart she’d held in her hands sophomore year. Held and crushed. She deserved every ounce of the hatred he had for her. 

Still, he wasn't a bad option. She knew he found her beautiful, he’d told her as much. The only problem was that he would never go for her again. People tended to put up a guard after having their heart shattered. 

Flirting with him would be futile and unfair. The only way she could ever get him to date her was if she gave him something in return. 

“Holy shit.” Aelin swore, jumping up so fast that she nearly hit her heat on the sink. 

If there was anything Aelin knew about Rowan, it was that he wanted to play on the football team. He’d gone on and on about it before. According to him, he had been deathly ill during tryouts and had ended up vomiting off the side after one hit. He’d begged and begged the coach to let him try out again but it was four years later and Rowan still wasn't on the team. Lorcan, Fenrys, Vaughn, and Gavriel all were and Rowan was half miserable because of it. 

There it was. A plan. She’d get him a tryout, somehow, and in exchange he would help her beat Chaol in whatever sick game they were playing. With a newfound purpose, Aelin washed her hands and walked back to math class.

Lunch. She’d make her move then. 

----------------------

The cafeteria was mostly empty, a normal occurrence for Tuesday afternoons. The lunch provided was some weird crossover of meatloaf and mashed potatoes that had most students eating out. Unfortunately for Rowan, Fenrys had convinced them to eat in the cafeteria today in his attempts to stalk a blonde girl on spare in the lounge. 

Now, he was picking at his food as his friends discussed the football game tomorrow. Rowan was just beginning to think his day couldn't get any worse, when he felt a gentle tap on his shoulder. 

“Can I talk to you?” Someone asked from over his shoulder. He knew that voice. Had heard it in both his dreams and his nightmares. Rowan’s grip on his fork tightened and his knuckles went white. His foot began drumming against the floor as he braced himself for impact. Everyone else at the table was rapidly flicking their gaze between Aelin and Rowan. 

“No.” He said harshly, not daring to turn around. Rowan didn't think he’d have the will to deny her anything if he was forced to meet her eye. 

“Please.” Aelin pleaded. “I have something to say to you.” 

“Well that’s too fucking bad because I have nothing to say to you.” He responded, voice carefully exempt of any emotion. 

“Then just listen.” She begged. “If you don't like what I have to say than we can go back to ignoring each other like you wanted.” 

“I wasn't the one who wanted that.” He snapped before he could take it back. 

Rowan felt more than saw Aelin stiffen behind him. Lorcan was drumming his fingers on the table, as if prepared to hold Rowan back if called for. 

But it was Fenrys, the friend who was kind to everyone, who spoke. “I think you should go Aelin.” 

She swallowed audibly behind him. “Alright.” She relented. “I’ll be at the Starbucks during fourth for spare. Come find me if you want.”

Rowan didn't bother to nod. Instead, he gripped his fork harder, letting up only when the sound of retreating footsteps subsided. He looked up slowly to find all eyes on him.  

“So that just happened.” Lorcan mused. 

“Yes thank you so much for that observation.” Rowan sniped sarcastically. 

“Woah.” Lorcan replied, throwing up his arms in mock surrender. “You’re mad at Galathynius, not us remember.” 

“Whatever.” He mumbled and went back to picking at his food. After a few seconds he threw his fork on the table and let out a groan of frustration. 

“This food is the worst thing I have ever eaten in my entire life. It is terrible and horrible and fucked up and I have no idea what to do with it.” Rowan half-shouted. Heads swivelled in his direction and he ignored them. Judgement from people he didn't know was the least of his many concerns at the moment. 

“Is that supposed to be some sort of metaphor for your life?” Vaughn asked, dead serious. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Seriously Rowan. All I've heard for the last year and a half is Aelin Galathynius this and Aelin Galathynius that and now she’s finally speaking to you and you’re not going to do anything about it.” 

“I don't talk about her that much.” Rowan mumbled under his breath. Lorcan shot him a look as if to say “Yes. Yes you do.”

“I know I'm normally not one to get involved in deep shit, but Vaughn’s right. I’ve never seen you nearly as happy as you were for those few months in tenth. And honestly, what’s the worst that can happen. You hear what she has to say. You like it, great. You don't, fuck it and forget about her.” Rowan had never heard Fenrys speak for so long without sarcasm in his life. 

“To be fair,” Gavriel said, always the buffer. “We’ve also never seen Rowan as broken as he was after Aelin. Maybe the risk outweighs the reward on this one Fen.” 

Rowan didn't reply. He was too busy struggling to get the memory of those painful few weeks from his head. 

“Just talk to her man. Who gives two fucks it’s high school.” Despite being mainly in an attempt to end this conversation, Lorcan’s words made sense. It was just high school. In one more year he’d be out of this shit hole and hopefully across the world in Rithfold. Talking to Aelin was just one step along the way. 

“I’m going to.” He said, willing his tone to stay confident. 

“Great man.” Fen said, patting him on the back. He barely felt it though. Barely felt anything as the rest of the day passed by in a blur, his thoughts occupied by a beautiful blond haired girl. 

---------

It had been twenty minutes and Aelin was starting to think Rowan wasn't coming. In all honestly she should've expected that outcome from the beginning. Even though she understood, the way he had acted towards her at lunch had hurt more than she was willing to let on. 

Instead of wallowing in her own self pity, Aelin took a long sip from her coffee. It seared her tongue and burned her throat, the pain helping to ground her in a way nothing else ever could. She was picking at her fingernails, head down, when he arrived. 

A metal chair scraped against the cobblestone, a bird sung from a oak tree, a paper bag rustled in the wind, Aelin Galathynius blinked. That’s all she had time to do. One blink to compose herself before she was looking dead into the eyes of Rowan Whitethorn. 

She allowed herself a brief second to take him in up close. His high and defined cheekbones, perfectly crafted nose, striking green eyes, and silver hair had always made for a truly stunning combination. He looked the same as ever. Except he didn't. His eyes no longer possessed that unbridled joy and love that she’d seen whenever he looked at her. Instead he just looked done. Done with life and done with her. 

Aelin swallowed audibly and handed him a coffee. “Cream and sugar.” She smiled, trying to lighten the mood. 

Rowan’s hands tightened slightly. “You remembered.” It wasn't a question. After a brief moment of hesitation he accepted the coffee and went back to staring at the table. 

“What is this about Aelin?” He asked softly. Although his voice was gentle, his tone was hurt in a way anyone else would’ve missed. She hated that. Hated that now, even a year later she was still somehow hurting him. 

“So you know I broke up with Chaol. Or, he broke up with me.” She tried to keep the tremor out of her voice. Rowan nodded once, nearly imperceptibly, and she took that as a sign to continue. “Anyway, Lysandra says that I need a rebound and I need one first because Chaol is the one who broke up with me.”

Rowan’s eye flared with surprise and something else she couldn't place. “I won't be your rebound. Please don't disrespect me by asking.” 

Her heart nearly cracked open at the pain lingering in his words. “No no I would never.” Aelin paused for a brief moment to regain her bearings. “Here’s the thing. I don't want a rebound. I’ve been in a relationship for as long as I can remember and I'm in desperate need of a break. But, I’m also the most competitive person you'll ever meet. Like seriously it’s an issue, once -” 

“I know.” Rowan interrupted. “Once you sprained your ankle 8 km into a 10 k run and still finished first because you couldn't stand the thought of losing. You told me already.” 

Aelin just stared at him for a second, her chest unbearably tight. Rowan’s eyes looked her up and down and she could've sworn his eyes flashed in satisfaction at the pain written on her face. 

Not wanting to look at him anymore, she went on. “I figured maybe instead of me actually doing the whole dating thing, we could fake date.” 

She held out a hand as Rowan opened his mouth to protest. Begrudgingly, he restrained from commenting and gestured for her to go on. 

“That way I'd beat Chaol in whatever this is, I wouldn't have to answer everyone’s condolences on my being dumped, and I’d be saved from the whole post breakup dating fiasco.” 

Rowan’s voice was hoarser than before when he finally spoke. “What do I get out of this.” 

She took a deep breath in. “I’ll get you a football tryout.” 

His knee slammed into the table and Aelin couldn't help but flinch. His eyes were wide and lit up with hope. “Seriously? How the hell are you going to do that?” 

“I have a plan.” She tried to sound confident despite her growing doubt. 

Rowan let out a small laugh. “The last time you said that we ended up in the back of a police cruiser covered in raw eggs and paint.” 

Aelin’s face broke into smile and she began to laugh. For a moment she could almost pretend they were back in sophomore year, lying on Rowan’s lawn and watching the stars. Neither of them had known anything about constellations so they’d made things up based on what they looked like. By the end of the night, Aelin’s stomach hurt from laughing. She wondered when the last time she’d been that blissfuly happy was. 

Just as suddenly as they had arrived, their smiles and laughs died on their lips. An uncomfortable silence seized the air and Aelin began to play with the hair elastic on her wrist. 

After a few more seconds, Rowan cleared his throat. “I’ll do it.” He announced, although it sounded like he was still trying to convince himself.  

“Great.” Aelin smiled. “Why don't you come over tomorrow and we can work out logistics.” 

“Don’t you live with Aedion?” Rowan asked cautiously.

“Yeah but he’ll be at Ren’s place tomorrow for a project. I checked.” 

Rowan nodded slowly and rose from his chair. “Alright.” 

They stared at each other for a moment, Rowan standing and Aelin sitting. “I’m going to uh... go.” He said at last, severing the quickly brewing tension. 

Without waiting for answer, he turned and fled, leaving Aelin to do nothing but watch. So they were actually doing this now. What’s the worst that could go wrong? 

TOG Tag List: 

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[glitchbirds]

2, 6, 7, 15?

cool right when i was about to answer this my computer decided to shut itself off and now i have to rewrite all this from scratch ANYWAYS

2. What’s the most disturbing movie you’ve ever watched? -Jesus this is hard. I’ve been meaning to get to more of the worse examples of exploitation horror just for the sake of having more nuanced/knowledgeable conversations on those topics, but thats the kind of shit I really have to work myself up to watching... and a lot of what I HAVE seen doesn’t disturb me so much as it just makes me uncomfortable or irritated. The original Last House on the Left (1972), for example, or Terrifier (2016). More positive examples that come to mind are Society (1989), Possession (1981), and to a certain degree Parents (1989), all of which are films I love a lot and all of which are wonderfully fucked up.

6. A film you wish you hadn’t watched? -I don’t know if I have any? I feel like basically any film I’ve seen has at least some small value, no matter how miserable the viewing experience might be or how much I might wind up despising it. even if its just like “this film is a demonstration of what NOT to do when making a film” or “this film heavily reflects the worldview of the director/writer/etc and their POV fucking SUCKS but its something concrete that can be torn apart”... there’s limits to this mindset ofc, I don’t think every single film that has ever been made automatically has merit and deserves to be seen, though I do think anything calling itself a film is deserving of criticism. ... Film student answer aside, if I had to pick one, the experience of legitimately being forced to watch God’s Not Dead (2014) in theaters because my god awful deep south Christian high school made the entire student body go see it as a field trip- THAT was a painful viewing experience I wish I never had.

7. A film you wish had a sequel? -Idk!!! A lot of films I love I think are either perfectly fine standing on their own, or already have a shitton of sequels (some being good, some being abysmal). I’d love for there to be another Friday the 13th movie one of these days, once the lawsuits finally get settled? I want to see Jason again...

15. A film everyone loves but you hate? -I feel like saying I don’t like Jennifer’s Body (2009) is inviting people to come into my house and kill me but I really do think it’s so painfully overrated. It’s ok. Every time someone calls it a feminist masterpiece I start to hate it a little more though and eventually I’m gonna just lose my mind. Debatably, this is the fault of one of my horror professors for screening it for a class discussion (and that being the first time I ever watched it), because it means I can only view this film critically/analytically and I have thousands and thousands of words written up somewhere about some of the aspects of the film that just don’t work (imo).

[thickania]

Okay.... I just watched Demi's new documentary trailer, and I'm honestly excited to watch the whole thing. But I wanna talk about the phrase "I don't even know why I'm sober anymore"... I felt that to my core. I don't think that people realize how hard it is to be sober from anything, literally anything, but at the same time it's not easy to live with an addiction either. I've been on treatment for eating disorders for about 4 years now, and I hate it, I hate every second that I'm eating, I hate every second that I have to prepare, and not count my food, I hate it that I can't change my food for alcohol or eat a few fruits, I have to eat a meal, and I hate it. I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. I hate having to distract myself, just so I can eat in peace.

I believe that being sober, it's awful, it's your brain begging you, to be back to your addiction, and maybe just a little sip. It's your body screaming for you to succumb to that, and when or if you do, it's all this voices in your head, yelling at you, that your family and friends will hate you, and that you don't deserve to be happy, that you deserve death, and that no one will miss you, and then it's your body begging "please, let's go to a hospital, I'm not okay", but the only time that all of this voices stop, it's when you are using whatever your drug is. And let me tell you, therapy doesn't always work, yeah you keep doing it, because you want to be okay, you want for the people around you to be happy, but you aren't, the only time, that you truly knows happiness, it's when you are starving, using, drink, eating, having sex, masturbating... It's not easy man, and when you have another mental illness with the addiction, it only makes everything harder. It's like... You want to live, but at the same time you wonder at what cost? You want to be happy, but you don't know why, exactly, I didn't asked to be born, so why do I have to fight to stay alive...

And she's on the public eye, so I can't imagine how that's like, for 2 fucking years, nearly every joke, it's about her and her overdose. It looks like people forgot what happened to Whitney, Amy, Britney, people already forgot what happened to this women because of the way that media treated them.

And don't get me started on religious people, trying to sell that bullshit to you, I swear it, every time that a religious person, tries to use my addiction, or anyone elses addiction, to sell their sky daddy, as the true one, I truly feel like sacrificing them, to any pagan god that exist. Don't get me wrong, if your God makes you happy, good for you, I am truly happy for you, and I hope, that you get to see them someday, but holy crap, let people figure out if they want that for them alone, don't try to drag me to another addiction, please. And also, what kind of god, do you follow, that you have to fear him, other than respect him, and he loves you, but he will kill you and make your life miserable, if you don't obey him... That's sounds like my mom and my brother... anyways

I'm honestly excited to that, I know that Demi has money, and that makes things a little easier, but dealing with that, it's hard on your own, but being on the public eye, and having people depending on you for a job, and having millions upon millions of people, looking up to you, it's worse, way worse. I'm on my way to a type of sobriety, and every fucking day, I ask myself if it is worth it, because it seems like it isn't. And truth be told, I don't want to be happy, I don't, happiness it's on the one side of the expectrum, while sadness it's on the other side, they are both extremes, I want to be at peace, sure, I want to feel happy, when something good happens to me, but I just want to live my life (if I get to live one) in peace

[thebluestbluewords]

Soulmates Aren’t Just Lovers, You Know (chapter 2!! It’s on ao3 now!! For real!!)

(malvie, ~4000 words, pre-relationship h/c, cw for mental health issues including non-explicit references to suicide and a lot of sad bits before the actual comfort)

When Mal wakes up again, there are a hell of a lot more people in her room.

Oh, fuck no. This is not some-- some kind of family meeting bullshit. She is so not down for that. Sometimes a girl just has to have a breakdown on her own, and it’s not anybody else’s business what she does when she’s in the throes of panic after having what might be the worst day of her entire life up to this point. Maybe the worst day period, if Mal has her way with it.

“Hey, Mal.” Evie says. “Good morning.”

Mal lets her eyes flicker over to the open window.

“Well, uh, it’s more like nighttime, actually.” Evie says. “But it’s the thought that counts. I brought you dinner, if that helps?”

She holds out a box from the dining hall.

Mal doesn’t want to sit up and eat dinner and pretend like she’s a real person. She wants to lay here forever until her bones rot and her flesh melts to the bed and she’s left as a discarded husk of a person.

“It’s those fancy potato pockets?” Evie offers, shaking the box a little bit. “And I think there’s dessert?”

Mal sits up. It feels like there’s a weight where her spine should be, but she manages it. “You think?” she asks. “You don’t even know what you got for me?”

Evie has the decency to flush. “When I said I got you dinner, what I meant is that dinner has been summoned for you, and I helped.” she says arily. “It was not meant to be taken literally.”

Mal reaches out for the box. “So, what you’re saying is, the boys brought me dinner.”

Evie nods, sharp. “Yes.”

“We got you apple cake.” Carlos offers. “But if you want something else we have the door code for the freezer.”

Of course they do. Mal knows that. She was there, she’s pretty sure, when they followed one of the assistant cooks around until they could watch her put the code in and take the knowledge for themselves. She’s definitely been there when they’ve gone into the main freezer before, not just the little student one. They don’t keep the raspberry popsicles in the student freezer. She knows this.

“You are….a menace to society.” Mal says, taking the box. It’s still warm. A little bit damp on the bottom, condensation from the warm food inside. It’s weird, to think that it’s been this easy all along. Just come to Auradon, and you can have all the hot food you want. No bartering, no threatening for it. No knives involved at all for the good little kiddies in princess school. Wouldn’t want them to get hurt, finding food for themselves. Wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to the precious little royal brats.

Anger might not be the right emotion, but it’s something other than empty, so Mal’s going to take what she can get.

Evie is kind enough to wait until Mal has one potato pocket in her mouth and another one in her hand before she speaks.

“So,” Evie starts, and Mal spits her potato thing out so that she can cut her off right there, because no, it doesn’t matter that the boys are in her room, or that Evie went to the effort of tracking them down and making them bring her dinner, this is not a family meeting and Mal is not going to sit here and listen to more people tell her that she’s doing everything wrong.

“No.” Mal snaps, and picks up her only-slightly-damaged dinner again. “We’re not talking about it.”

Evie sighs, dramatically. “No right back at you. We have to talk about this.”

“We don’t!” Mal says, around her mouthful of potato pocket. Fuck, but these things are good.  “We can just pretend like it never happened, and I can go back to--”

Evie interrupts her. “To being miserable all the time and not telling us?” she asks. “That’s what you want to happen?”

Ugh.

Mal flings an arm out, gesturing to the room, where her stylish little backpack is hanging up, where her princess-appropriate shoes are resting on their little white rack in the corner, where her-- okay, where her clothes are still in piles all over the floor and her textbooks for her science classes are sitting unopened on the desk but that’s fine. That’s normal. Everyone has weeks where their room is a mess, that’s why they have a cleaning staff to come around and do the things that the students are too busy to do themselves. It’s not Mal being lazy, it’s her adjusting. To this brave new world. Of. Being a spoiled rich brat.

Anyway.

“To coping!” Mal shouts, mad at herself and not-- just, so not ready to touch that one yet. “I’m coping. It’s fine. I’m just having a rough adjustment, that’s all. It’s hard, learning all of this new Auradon--stuff.”

“I don’t think you are,” Evie says, gently. “Coping is what we did months ago, when we were figuring out how to get through classes, and how to find sunscreen, and all of that. This kind of feels like, well.”

Ugh. “What.” Mal demands. “Spit it out.”

“Like you’re struggling.”

Oh. That’s-- yeah. That’s pretty obvious. Adjusting to the restrictions of school, to all of the times where back home Mal could go and do what she wanted and now she has to go to class and turn things in and speak in turn and not use her hands and sit up straight and share her things and--

It’s a lot. She’s been working on it.

“Sure.” Mal says, because it’s pretty fucking obvious that she’s putting in the effort. If she ends every day so tired she could cry and wakes up with sandpaper where her eyelids should be, that just means she’s working really hard at doing everything right. “Coping, struggling, whatever. I’ll get through it. It’s fine.”

“Mal, I don’t think it is fine.” says Evie. She looks--

Mal sticks another potato thing in her mouth instead of thinking about it. Emotions are overrated anyway.

Evie sighs again. “Some of the things you were saying, it feels like you aren’t happy here.”

“I--” Mal stutters. Stop. Breathe. “I--”

She’s not happy. Anyone with eyes to look at her right now, hiding pathetically in the bed of a girl who she wouldn’t even talk to a year and half ago, could see that. Mal’s pretty sure the lack of feeling that swallows her up sometimes isn’t the same thing as being unhappy, though. It’s the absence of happiness, not the presence of unhappiness. It’s fine. Survivable. She’s supposed to feel grateful, she knows that. She can show her best smile for the cameras, usually, and tell anyone within earshot how grateful she is for the chance to leave the island, and it’s not even a lie, most of the time. It’s awful being here, and it was awful being there, but at least it’s been a different kind of awful, and that’s got to be worth something.

Mal can convince herself, most of the time, that it’s better to be here. Better to be warm and dry and fed and miserable, than to be cold and starving and interested in her own life.

It’s just hard to remember that sometimes.

Jay shifts, pushing off of the table he’d been leaning on and then stopping, like he’s not sure where to move. “We’re not saying that you have to be happy all the time, or whatever,” he says “I’m not. Evie’s not. We’re-- yeah.” He hesitates. Even now, there’s things they aren’t talking about. “I don’t know what’s up with you and Ben, but he’s not happy all the time either. That’s how people work.”

Mal will not cry. “Ben hates me is what’s up with him.” she explains calmly, like a rational person who isn’t suddenly on the verge of tears over nothing. “ He wants me to give up magic completely and I can’t do that, I just can’t. It’s a part of me and it-- when I don’t use it, I’m cutting off a part of myself.”

“Have you talked to Fairy Godmother yet about the magical theory classes?” Evie asks softly. “Jane is taking them, and so is Aria. You wouldn’t be alone.”

Mal scoffs. “Magic theory. Like that’s good for anything.”

“It could help--”

The tears are back, suddenly.  Prickling hot at the back of Mal’s throat, threatening to choke her again. Making her voice wobble like she’s weak.

“It’s not going to help!” Mal shouts, instead of giving in to her other impulse, which is to start sobbing. “It’s not the same thing! I wouldn’t expect you to understand that, but it’s not something I can just-- wish away if I just try hard enough! I need to use magic, and it’s the only way I can be good enough--”

Oh, gods. Fuck. She wasn’t going to cry again.

Evie’s there again, touching Mal’s hand and then her hair, soft and cool and just right in a way that makes Mal want to cry more and not less. Like, Evie’s here, and she’s saying soft words that Mal can’t hear over the pounding in her own head, but it’s got to be just the right thing because Evie always knows the right thing to say whenever Mal is acting stupid again.

“I don’t--” Mal tries. “I--”

Evie wraps an arm over her shoulders and rocks both of them back and forth like she’s a child again.  “It’s okay,” she’s saying, or at least that’s what it seems like she might be saying. It’s hard to tell what with the hysterics and all. “I’ve got you.”

Mal holds her breath until there are spots over her vision, and then lets it out. It’s not easy, but it’s doable, which is more than she could have said just a few hours ago.

Jay shifts forward again and actually makes the move to sit on Mal’s other side this time. His shoulder just barely brushes against hers. It’s nice to just have him there. Grounding, or something.

“Hey. We’re not saying you have to give up magic, okay?” Jay says. “What about, like, we find a way for you to use it somewhere that’s not on your royal boyfriend?”

Oh no.

“He hates--” Mal sniffles. “Hates me anyway. Doesn't matter anymore.”

“Yeah. No. He doesn’t. Trust me on this one,  it takes a lot more than one spell to drive us guys away.”

“I’ve done a lot worse than one spell,” says Mal. “It’s more like-- a whole spellbook.”

Jay bumps her shoulder. It knocks her over into Evie a bit, but that’s just fine with Mal. Evie is always a good place to be. “He’s gonna forgive you.” Jay tells her, like it’s already happened. “He never shuts up about you, for real.”

“I don’t know if I want him to forgive me.” Mal whispers, low and terrible and mostly to herself. She doesn’t know--

She loves Ben, she thinks. She could love him. She does love him, maybe, but in the same way that she loves her other friends. There’s room in her heart for at least three people, but when one of them is so much more it’s hard to say if there’s any space left over for people who don’t get it.

It takes a long minute of sitting with that thought before Mal realizes that oh, right, she was saying something.

It feels too late to finish the thought. Limited-time offer, already expired. No more talking about boyfriends who aren’t what she needs right now anyway. Better to think about Evie instead, safe and warm at her back, or her boys, steady and bright and sweet in their own ways that Mal already understands. It’s easy to be with people you’ve known since you were children, even if they think more about stabbing and stealing than about treaties and marriage and life after high school and all of the things that Mal is supposed to be thinking about now.

Evie shoves Mal upright. “Okay,” she says, clapping her hands together. “I think it’s time to do something that’s not moping now!”

Mal wants to mope forever.  She doesn’t want to rehydrate and rest and do all of the things that Evie is going to make her do. Mal would happily (hah, as-if) stay flopped out in Evie’s bed, draped over Evie’s shoulder forever if she could. It would be easier than facing her problems. Simpler.

Evie pulls a metal dish out of her bag. “We brought popcorn, if you want to do the honor,” she says, clicking out the handle and waving the pan towards Mal.

It’s an effort just for Mal to be sitting up right now. Fire has always come easily, but the act of reaching out a hand might be too much. Transforming her throat to blow a breath of flame wouldn’t just be an effort physically, but mentally as well. It’s easy enough to change her whole shape at once, but there’s no space for a dragon to curl up in a dorm room and transforming her body in bits and pieces is so far beyond what Mal can manage right now that it might as well be impossible.

Mal shakes her head. Nope. All out of fire juice, can’t do it today.

The do have a microwave with a heating element, and at least three lighters between the four of them, so there’s really no need for Mal’s crew to look so fucking stricken.

Ugh. One hot hand won’t hurt too much, and if it can get them to stop looking at her like that, it’ll be worth the effort. “Fine. Give ‘em here,” Mal says, gesturing for the popcorn tin. “I’m doing this because I love you.”

Evie hands it over. “And I love you,” she says back, easily. “Let’s get some Stage Moms going. Let the boys get it set up while we get all cozy.”

Mal sniffles. The popcorn is heating up on her palm, where she’s sending a steady stream of heat up through to the container. It’ll pop in a minute, so long as she doesn’t do something dumb like forget to regulate the heat and light the whole thing on fire. “You don’t have to do this.”

Evie wraps an arm around her shoulders, jostling her close again. “I know. What are friends for, right?”

Oh, Evil.

Evie takes this new bout of tears in stride, pulling Mal close and rescuing the popcorn before it burns and producing a handkerchief from somewhere for Mal to wipe her nose with as she cries.  “I know, I know,” she says soothingly, as Mal sobs into her shoulder. “We’re here for you.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Shh, hey. You do, Mali. You do, and you always will. Nothing you do is gonna drive us away, okay? We’re your family, and you can’t make us leave even if you try.”

There’s a weight behind Mal, and oh, that’s the sound of Stage Moms up on somebody’s laptop, so the boys must be done getting that set up, and then there’s a hesitant hand patting her back, and oh--

“Um, please don’t try.” Carlos says. “We love you and all. But please don’t.”

There’s a jostling, and then the sounds of someone (Evie) whacking someone else (definitely Carlos, then) upside the head.

“If you need us, baby,” Evie says. “Wherever or whenever or anything. We’re here for you and you can’t change that even if you want to.”

“Even if I’m just like my mother?” Mal asks. She doesn’t want to, but she can’t seem to stop herself. It’s an awful compulsion, the constant need to weigh her actions against her mother’s. Following the trajectory of bright young girl to bitter young woman, to becoming more and more entwined with her magic, until finally she can’t resist the need for power anymore, and she snaps and starts cursing people left and right with no mind for the consequences.

Mal can’t look up. She can’t know what’s going on in this terrible silence that’s going to choke her, even though she wants to know, so very very much, what her crew is doing right now. How they’re going to lie to her when they try and reassure her that she’s not her mother and she won’t ever be, even though the roots are already there.

Evie doesn’t lie to her. “Even then.” she says. “We’d still follow you, Mal. Even if you start cursing people with no rhyme or reason. I’ll always get you back.”

Another wave of hot tears somehow trickle out. “I want to go home.” Mal whispers. She wouldn’t have to worry about dragging her crew back with her if they were home. If they’d never left in the first place. Curse Auradon for making her think about things like morality and goodness and what she could have if only she could be a good girl for a little bit longer. Curse them all.

Evie sighs, and Mal can feel her chest rise and fall with it where they’re squished together on the little island of Evie’s bed. “I know, babe,” Evie says. “You keep saying that.”

Goddess help them all. “I want to go home,” Mal tries to explain. “Not, like, to my mother. I just-- I hate it here. I don’t understand any of the rules and I don’t know how to be a princess like you, Eves. I don’t--” Mal breaks off to swipe a hand over her face. She is not going to cry again,  not with almost everyone she cares about still here to watch. “I don’t think I can keep up with everything anymore. I just want a break.”

Evie sighs again, and rubs a hand over Mal’s back, gentle-like. “What if we got you one?” she says, so softly that Mal almost misses it.

She doesn’t though, and that’s what matters. “What?” Mal asks. Tries to demand, really, but it doesn’t come out quite right.

Evie’s hand doesn’t break rhythm. “A break. We can do that. Get you some time to regroup.”

“I don’t-- it won’t help--”

“Hm.” Evie says, and it sounds skeptical even though it’s barely a noise at all. “You don’t think I can do it?”

“I-- no!”  Mal says, almost tearful again. Fuck, what’s gotten into her, crying at the drop of a brick like this. “You could-- anything, Eves. You can do anything you want, I’m not doubting you.”

Evie conveniently ignores the final emphasis. “Great!”

Oh no.

“No, ” Mal tries to tell her. “I don’t-- Eves.”

“You said I can do anything I want.” Evie challenges, dangerous even under her sparkly lipgloss. Dangerous because of it, maybe. Like a poisonous moth. Something beautiful that you should know better than to touch. “I’m doing it.”

“You did say that.” Jay echoes, watching Mal a little too closely with those stupid bright eyes of his. “Like, just now.”

“I lied.” Mal says immediately. “I’ve never- I would never say a thing like that.”

“Mmm.” says Evie, petting a hand over Mal’s head. It feels not-so-great, so Mal ducks away. She doesn’t need to be reminded of her hair just now. “I don’t think you did. I think you know I’m right, and you’re afraid to think about what it means.”

Oh no. “Can we not psychoanalyze me right now?” Mal begs.

Just like that, Evie backs off. “Sure.” she says breezily. “We can plan your getaway instead. Do you want to see the mountains?”

“I--” Mal tries, but the words stick. “Sure?”

“I think there’s a cabin up there that I can convince, ah,’ Evie barely stutters, but she does wince, and goes on anyway. Great. That’s perfect.  “Nobody in particular! To let us borrow!”

“Eves, please no.”

Evie breaks out into a brilliant smile “Oh yes. Do you think two weeks is enough? An extended spring break, so to speak,  and then we can talk about a longer-term kind of thing.”

Running away forever sounds like something that might be good, but forever also implies some sort of continued existence, and Mal’s really not sure if she’s down for that just now.

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” she says, instead of the full thought. “What if it doesn’t change anything?”

“It’s a great idea,” says Evie. “All of my ideas are great, remember?”

“You’re coming with me, right?” Mal asks, hating how pathetic it comes out. She’s not a child, but she feels silly and childish again, watching her best friend plan out how to fix her life.

Evie pauses. “If you want us to,” she says, hesitant for the first time. “I don’t want to put any more pressure on you.”

Oh. The thought strikes Mal for the first time in this awful, no-good, very bad day that maybe she’s not the only one who doesn’t know what she’s doing here. That maybe Evie is scared too.

“I want you there.” Mal says firmly. This, at least, is something she knows. “I want all of you, but please, Eves, I need you there. Don’t send me away on my own.”

“I think we can do that.”

Mal doesn’t want to show her whole soul here, but it’s too easy to just tip her face up towards Evie’s, like she’s a flower reaching for the bright Auradon sun. “Yeah?” she asks hopefully.

Evie brushes a piece of Mal’s hair out of her face, so gentle that it doesn’t even tug on the tangles. “For sure.” she says. “We can go with you.”

“All of you?” Mal asks again, pathetically. “Just for a week, please.”

There’s an intense conversation happening in eyebrows and facial twitching going on over her head, but Mal isn’t ready to follow that just yet, and eventually it seems to resolve itself and Jay reaches over to pat her head. “Yeah, fine.” he says. “All of us.”

Evie lets out a breath. “It’s settled then. An extended spring break, starting next week. Can you do one more week, Mal? We can always call you out sick.”

Mal can’t imagine leaving her room in the next week, much less leaving campus to go out to another unknown place for an extended period of time. “I can do it.” she says, instead of explaining. Classes are the lesser of the two obstacles right now, and besides, she can’t ask the others to take the time off from the classes that they’re finally doing well in. It wouldn’t be fair to them. She’s already-- oh, Evil. She’s asking Jay to give up the university visit he was going to do over break. Fuck. Maybe he can travel down and back, but he hates driving on his own, and she’s already asking so much of them, coming with her at all, and oh--

“We’ll call out early next week.” Evie whispers to her. “One week with everyone, and then we can have a week just for us if you’re up for it, okay?”

Of course Evie already has it all figured out. “Okay.” Mal whispers back to her. “I’ll be okay.”

“Oh, good.” Evie says, at a more normal volume this time. “If you’re feeling up to it, there is one other thing--” she picks up her phone and tilts the screen over towards Mal.

There’s a whole mess of texts, and at least two missed calls that Mal can see already. From a very particular number. Oh, gods.

“No.” Mal says as firmly as she can manage. “No way.”

Evie doesn’t lower the phone. “He’s been calling me.”

“Then tell him to not!” Mal bursts out. “I can’t talk to him about this now!”

Evie grins at that. A full-out, unladylike, evil grin. “Gladly.” she says sweetly, and taps to immediately dismiss the whole mess.

What.

“Really?” Mal asks incredulously.  Evie loves being proper and outwardly kind and not telling people to fuck off to their faces. Evie is a firm believer in the idea that insults stick best when the person has to say ‘thank you’ and ideally won’t even question it until they’re back home that night (where they’re most vulnerable, Evie says. It’s just efficiency to make sure that you’re always hurting people while their guard is down).

“Mal. Baby.” Evie says, shifting so she can talk with her hands without Mal’s sad droopy self in the way. “You don’t know how long I have been waiting to tell this boy to fuck off and let you adjust on your own time. You broke up with Uma like, a month before we came here. That’s not long enough to jump right into another long term relationship, no matter what this Auradon boy thinks. You need time, and space, and I will tell him to give you all of that.”

Mal will not stare with her mouth open like a fish. She’s better than that.

“Wow, okay, Eves.” Jay says, almost laughing. Right.

“Go Evie!” Carlos practically cheers. Of course the boys are still here too. They wouldn’t leave the perfect opportunity for drama behind just because Mal is having a moment.

Evie nods to them, graciously. “Thank you, thank you.” she says. “I do take requests.” she hesitates for a moment. “But, um, Mali, do you want to maybe write him a letter? I can drop it off when I make the call. Make sure he really gets the message.”

“Yeah. I think that-- that would be good. I need space. And time.”

Evie picks up Mal’s hand and gives it a squeeze. “Of course.”

“You’ll really do it for me?”

Evie’s eyes are dark and intense and so, so close. “Anything, Mal.” she says. “Just say the word and I’m yours.”

Oh. That’s-- well.

Maybe more than Mal can handle at this exact moment, honestly, but something that is going to be very very important just as soon as she gets her shit together again.

Evie’s face is still very close.

Mal pulls back. “I love you.” she says. It just feels like the right thing to do. “So much, Eves. I love you more than anything.”

Evie’s mouth quirks up at the corner. “More than strawberries?”

“More than strawberries.” Mal echoes back. More than anything, really. “More than chocolate.”

Evie brushes that stupid piece of blonde hair out of her eyes again, and the touch isn’t even a bother this time. “That’s a lot of love,” she says “You’d better be sure about that kind of thing.”

More than anything.

“I’m sure,” Mal tells her. “I love you.”