#//SINCE ME MYSELF am an extra bitch when i go to pride. it only felt right. also armi the only one of the 7 that i feel would deck herself

[armisdeleon]

ARMI DE LEON'S + PRIDE OUTFIT (6/22/2024)

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

calculated ii, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: You pride yourself in being cool, calm, and collected... and then Jeon Jungkook knocks you down a peg. Well, you’re still the head Calculus I TA. The noona. The responsible one. The one who would definitely not misunderstand a situation and then end up fucking in a stairwell... right?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; intense smut (fem reader, semi-public sex, nipple play, tit slapping, fingering, wall fucking, dirty talk); jealousy; fluff; non-idol!AU - university!AU; dom!Jungkook x sub!noona!reader, ft instigator Jimin again, lol

--

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv

-

You weren't a jealous person by nature. 

Mostly because you had no tolerance for lying, dishonesty, or deceit. In the off chance an ex cheated on you, you dropped them like hot coal and moved on, easily, without so much as a text. Was that the best way to end a relationship? Definitely not, but you did it anyway. 

It got you a notorious reputation, to say the least. 

So, why, as you're collecting the latest Calculus I exam and students are rushing down the steps to run to their next class, were you absolutely fuming as you spy Jeon Jungkook, tongue between his teeth, talking to a girl who looked like she was going to pass out from arousal by being in his vicinity? Why was your blood boiling, knuckles turning white as you clutch the obscenely thick stack of paper, your only thought being, I'm going to fail this fucking punk ass bitch, just you fucking wait–

"Do you need help?"

You turned your head sharply, missing Jungkook's teasing gaze as Kim Namjoon held his hands out, giving you a sheepish smile. Namjoon was the head Calculus III TA, but he was helping out today since the other Calculus I TAs couldn't make it. 

"No."

Namjoon's smile faltered. 

"Last time I let you carry these, you dropped them all."

Namjoon laughed sheepishly. "Ahahaha, yeah that did happen, huh?"

You felt bad for snapping at him. It wasn't Namjoon's fault Jungkook was an asshole. It was not Namjoon's fault Jungkook was looking like a goddamn meal in his untucked black dress shirt, ripped black jeans and heavy black boots, his long dark hair half-pinned back with a wispy curtain of black partly obscuring the right side of his face. Not that you cared. At all. You two fucked one time. One, very hot, very intense, very wild time during Calculus I office hours in this very math department building, a few floors above, just last week.

Did you have dreams about it?

...

You shook your head roughly, breaking out of your thoughts. "Come on. Let's go get some coffee. I'll buy," you said, softening your tone this time, grabbing your bag as you hoisted the stack with one arm. You began to walk out, Namjoon following you with his extra-thick backpack.

"I can help you grade. I have some time before my next class."

You laughed. "You, Kim Namjoon, double Literature and Music major and head TA for Calculus III and Physics II, have time?" you teased, seeing his ears turn red. 

He chuckled awkwardly as you two made your way to the vending machines. "Okay, I don't have the most time, maybe an hour, but there's a key, right? I'd like to help," he added cheerfully. "Since you're carrying it all."

You smiled and stopped in front of the vending machine, struggling to grab your wallet from the back pocket of your black skinny jeans. Your hands kept getting caught in the long sleeves of your cream sweater. You frowned, trying to balance everything. 

"Need help?" Namjoon asked, seeing your brows furrow. He reached for the stack of exams, but you pulled them away from his grasp. 

"No, no, I just can't get my wallet. It's in my back pocket."

"... Uh, I could pa–"

"Namjoon, it's an ass. Just take it out. I won't call the police."

He gave you a hesitant look, but you jerked your head impatiently.

"Fucking do it. You're making it weirder," you muttered.

He shrugged and yanked your black bifold wallet out of your back pocket. 

"Whatchu want?" You looked into the lit-up shelves, scanning. "Get me a green tea."

Namjoon opened your wallet to grab some bills. He raised his eyebrows. 

"I use the same brand myself."

"What?"

You turned your head to see him snickering, pointing to the condom in your wallet. You rolled your eyes at his immature reaction. 

"People get laid; get over it," you remarked coolly, but you were smiling anyway because Namjoon had cute dimples that made you laugh too.

He fed some money into the machine. "You should change it out every once in a while, though. Body heat can cause the latex to break down over time."

"I put it in there last week," you said absentmindedly, watching the green tea and the hot coffee Namjoon ordered plunk down. He raised his eyebrows again, but you gave him a pointed look and turned around, presenting your jean-covered butt.

"Put it back."

"What if I need a condom? Can I have it?" Namjoon sniggered.

"Put it back before I kick your ass," you shot back, turning your head to glare at him. A blur of black rushed past in your peripheral vision. Your eyes flickered to the direction of the movement at the same time Namjoon jammed your wallet in your pocket.

You turned back around, cocking your head into the direction of the offices. Namjoon carried the drinks, laughing behind you. 

"That would have been weird if anyone was around," he remarked to the deserted hallway. 

You shrugged. "Who hangs around the math department besides nerds like you and me?" you muttered, somewhat bitterly.

"Touché."

-

"You said you needed a ride," you muttered, watching Park Jimin stretch his legs out. It was already completely dark outside. Jimin always practiced such long hours that you often wondered if he slept. Did he even know what sleep was? The fine arts building was empty besides you two. 

"I do!" Jimin protested, going into a split that made your own crotch hurt, at least mentally. "But I have to cool down first. It's important!"

You sighed and slid down to the floor as Jimin did his routine. He hummed along as you stared at the bright lights on the ceiling. Your backpack was in the car. You played with the pink bunny keychain on your keys as you waited. 

"How did Jungkook go?" Jimin teased, tone playful.

You scowled in response.

"Ouch, that bad huh?" Jimin's head popped into your vision as he bent over backwards. "Does he have a bent dick or something?"

You rolled your eyes. "He's fine," you mumbled. "Just an asshole."

Jimin sat down, placing the soles of his feet together and pressing on his knees. They went all the way to the floor. You winced as you watched, but he seemed fine. 

"What'd he do?" 

You twisted your mouth to one side. "Doesn't matter. Don't care."

Jimin looked up. He gave you that look mothers give their children when they know they're lying. You relented, grumbling.

"Flirting around right in front of my face."

Jimin blinked at you. "I thought you guys were just fucking?"

You looked away to the mirror of the dance studio. "... We are just fucking. Did, rather."

"Are you jealous?" Jimin gasped in disbelief, scooting over to you gleefully, forgetting about his cool down. "You are!"

"I am not, Jimin. Shut up."

Jimin giggled. "Wow, one fuck and you're in lo–"

You spun around sharply and clapped a hand over his mouth, glaring at him. Jimin's eyes widened at your sudden reaction, blinking at you. You climbed to your knees, towering over him.

"Shut up, Jimin."

"The fuck is going on?"

The clear, silvery voice thundered across the dance studio practice room. You froze, whipping your head around to see Jungkook, in all-black, his pretty features twisted in rage, glaring at you and Jimin on the hardwood floor.

Fight? 

Or flight?

You scrambled to your feet and ran. Straight up bolted, right past Jungkook, not hearing him shout at Jimin, completely forgetting you were supposed to take him home.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Jungkook roared, advancing, shoulders shaking. 

"Nothing," Jimin snapped, getting to his feet. "Just like you, apparently. Look how fucking fast she ran from you!"

Jungkook grabbed Jimin's collar, shaking him forcefully. "The fuck are you talking about?" he growled, nearly spitting in Jimin's face. "She doesn't even like me, you idiot."

"You're the idiot," Jimin spat back, shoving him hard in the chest. "She literally just admitted to liking you right in front of me!"

Jungkook froze. "W-what?"

"She just now told me she was jealous because you were chatting up other girls," Jimin hissed, looking at him disdainfully. "I would have never helped you if you were going to treat her like a piece of meat."

Jungkook's face fell, anger crumbling into sudden comprehension. "I-I didn't..."

He turned away from Jimin, dropping his car keys as he chased after you, steps much faster and lighter than your erratic stumbling though the fine arts building, nearly tripping on the stairs. You were running so fast that you were making yourself winded, chest so tight you couldn't even breathe. 

Jimin sighed and picked up the fallen car keys. 

Jungkook jumped over the stair rail, making you recoil and spin around, running back up the stairs. He took them two at a time, slamming a hand against the wall to cut you off. You turned the other way and he stopped you there too, so you ducked under, trying to run. His strong arms grabbed you by the waist and dragged you back, struggling for dear life, hands clawing at the air. 

"Stop, stop," Jungkook was panting, but you started squirming against him instead, flattening your torso to try to slide out. He forcefully grabbed your shoulders and shoved you into the wall. You hissed in pain, seeing stars from your lack of oxygen and panic. He held you there, wheezing, grip so strong it almost hurt, as if he was afraid you would run away again. 

You felt wetness on your face. You started, touching your cheek. Tears blurred your vision. Jungkook lifted his head, his long black hair tousled and wild from chasing you and, even now, he was handsome. Even now, he made your heart stop. 

And then you realized that he, too, was crying. 

"J-Jimin..." Jungkook gasped. "Asked me to d-drive him home..."

You sobbed, trying to blink your tears away. "M-me too..."

Jungkook chuckled wetly despite the situation. 

"Hah... that bastard..."

You tried to twist away, but Jungkook pushed you into the wall with his chest. 

"D-don't..."

And now you were really crying now, so pathetic, so dumb, so stupid you wanted to crawl into a hole and hide, hide your face and your feelings and pretend they didn't exist. 

"Don't..." 

Jungkook's deep voice vibrated your torso as you furiously wiped your face with the sleeves of your cream sweater, stuffing your eyes with the fluffy material, trying to press them away.

"Don't cry, noona... I can't take it..."

And then he was kissing you, soft kisses on your tears, dripping his own onto your cheeks, and then your lips were on his, so full, so nice, so right, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer. Everything way too fucking wet, but it didn't matter because his tongue was against yours and you were sucking on it, shivering, whimpering his name, trying not to be pitiful, but what were you supposed to do when he made you feel this way, like you wanted to die in his arms right now? 

He whispered your name too, so softly, so desperately that you thought it was just a dream, but he had you against the wall, hands sliding up your sweater, onto your skin, so warm, stroking it and pressing his fingers into your waist, so familiar, teeth nipping at your lower lip.

"J-Jungkook..." you choked out. "We're in the middle of the stairway in the fucking f-fine arts building..."

"Don't care," he murmured, unhooking your bra, his dark hair brushing against your face. You gasped as his palms covered your already hard nipples, his moan against your lips. "Have to remind you you're mine."

He kissed your face again, massaging your breasts, resting his cheek against yours, letting you feel his smile. You closed your eyes, trying to even your breathing.

"Hah... I'm so ugly right now," you mumbled, cursing your weakness, frustrated that only a single meeting with Jeon Jungkook could turn you into this. You didn't believe in stars aligning or any of that romantic bullshit. But the instant Jeon Jungkook pressed his body against yours, you fucking knew. You absolutely knew there was no other body for you, no other body you wanted to dream about, no other person you wanted to touch, no one else you wanted but Jeon Jungkook to force you to your knees and make you look at him, pulling on your nipples, whines leaving your throat as he yanked on them, your own hands pushing your sweater and bra up so he could stare at your body and watch how he ruined you, turning your nipples pink with abuse.

Were you crazy? Probably. 

Jungkook spread his legs, leaning down, dark hair half-obscuring his face, lips parting.

"So beautiful, noona..." he breathed, swallowing hard. "You're the only one for me."

You scoffed at his words, hastily wiping your eyes. He pulled at your nipples hard, twisting them and making you yelp in pain. 

"Look at me when I speak to you," Jungkook commanded, raw and deep. Voice strained from crying, but his eyes remained dark, flint-like, shaded by his long hair. His eyes traveled down your body, to your knees against the floor, to your nipples straining in his fingertips, to your shaking hands holding up your sweater, to your face, your icy glare rippling through your drying tears. He drew in a long breath, making you wait for him. 

"There is no one else," he growled firmly above you, staring into your eyes, right at your soul. "Absolutely no one. I don't care if they're ripping off their clothes and throwing themselves at me, I will always pick you over them. I will always want you over them. I will always, always desire you under me above all others."

You chuckled darkly, feeling his grip tighten. 

"We fucked once, Jungkook. Once," you muttered bitterly. He pinched your nipples sharply and you sucked in a breath, wetness pooling in your panties. 

"Once is enough," he replied firmly. "Once is enough to know there is no other human being on Earth for me."

Maybe you were both crazy. 

He yanked your nipples harder this time. Your body jerked in pain, pressing your thighs together to get some relief. 

"Get up."

You got up shakily, with his gentle pulls in your nipples, wincing. Jungkook removed his hands and you sighed in relief, only to be silenced as he pushed up the sleeves of his black dress shirt, breathless as you saw his shapely forearms, the right covered in tattoos. He pressed his right forearm against your collarbone and you released your sweater as he held it up.

"Hands on the arm."

You placed your hands on his forearm, one on his wrist and the other just under his elbow. 

"Look at me."

Your eyes flickered up at him. Part of his hair covered his right eye. The rest of his forehead was exposed, brows furrowed, brown eyes intensely on you. His chiseled jaw clenched, lips so pink and pretty you wanted them on you. Your chest was completely exposed, your red nipples hard and poking out in the cold air. 

Then he slapped your tits with his own palm. 

You gasped sharply, skin stinging, nails digging into his skin. The sound rang in the empty staircase. Your knees shook, panties wetter than before. 

"Who is he?"

You swallowed, blinking rapidly. Your nipples prickled with pain but all you could think about was wanting more. "Who?" you croaked.

He smacked you again, right on the other nipple, and you bit your tongue, head pushing into the wall behind you, hissing. Fuck. He wasn't hitting you very hard, but he had a huge palm, expanding the surface area of the sting.

"The guy who touched your ass without my permission," Jungkook snarled, flicking your nipple hard. 

Your eyelids fluttered, knees buckling. Fuck. So good. You clutched into Jungkook's arm, panting. His arm was like iron, unmoving. 

"Namjoon?" you replied, confused. "H-he was just getting my wallet."

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. Then he raised an eyebrow and his hand, slowly spanking your tits, making sure to hit your swollen, aching nipples each time, getting you wetter and wetter with each slap. 

"He wants to fuck you," Jungkook hissed into your face. 

You were moaning far too loud, rubbing your knees together, your soaked panties bunching up in your jeans as Jungkook continued, his nails gazing your flesh, leaving red marks and pink skin in his wake. 

"B-but I don't want to fuck h-him..." you managed to get out in between your moans.

Jungkook pressed his palm flat against one of your breasts and rubbed hard. Your eyes rolled back in your head, nipple throbbing with pain as he forced it around and around. 

"Really?" he sneered, putting his face close to yours as he released your breast and moved to the other, placing his nail on it, scratching lightly. Your hips bucked and a desperate whimper fell from your lips. "Who do you want to fuck then?"

Your eyes locked with his, his impossibly dark, reigning eyes. 

"Only you."

He pinched your nipple, hard. You wailed, almost falling, but he held you firm. 

"Say my name."

So deep. So in control. 

"Only you, Jungkook."

He dropped his right arm and roughly pinched both your nipples, silencing your scream with a suffocating kiss, his clothed chest ramming into your torso. You groaned into his mouth as the rough fabric of his dress shirt touched your sensitive nipples, whimpering as he removed his hands to hold yours. Held them tight as he shoved his tongue into your mouth, thrusting into it, fucking it as if it was his cock. You took it all, fingers intertwining with his, whole body shivering. 

He pulled your hands up to his chest, breaking apart for a second. 

"Take it off," he panted impatiently. "Need your skin on mine."

You fumbled with the tiny buttons, far too small with how hazy your head was right now. You were rapidly losing your temper, finally just shoving your fingers into the placket and ripping it apart, causing the black buttons to fling everywhere. You pushed the sides of the dress shirt aside, sucking in a breath seeing his toned chest and abs, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him to you, pressing his hot skin against yours, moaning as your abused nipples touched his chest. Jungkook was chuckling, looking at the fallen buttons.

“Are you going to pick those up later?” he asked, amused.

“No,” you snapped.

“Someone will know.”

“You obviously don’t care.”

Jungkook laughed, rumbling and sexy and so very wonderful. “I most certainly do not.”

He let you press your cheek against his collarbones, hands splayed on his back. Tracing his muscles, chest heaving from too many emotions and too much running. You ran your nails down his back. His breathing hitched and he placed a large hand on your head.

“Were you jealous?” he purred, petting your hair. “Because I was talking to that girl after class? Is that why you ran off with that Namjoon guy? To make me jealous too?”

“No,” was your haughty, tight reply.

He hummed. “Really?”

His hand slid down, down your shoulder and to your bare skin. He dug his nails into the small of your back, raking them up. You whimpered, clinging to him tighter. His head dipped low against your ear, voice dropping several octaves.

“Because I was very, very jealous,” Jungkook growled, teeth snapping, every word rousing your lust. “All I could think about all day was how to punish you. My beautiful, slutty noona.”

You sunk your nails into his back, snarling right back.

“It’s your own fault for being so fucking hot that every single person who encounters you has a full-blown orgasm every time they see you, you punk ass bitch.”

You didn’t have to see his face to know he was grinning. “You didn’t. You told me to leave.”

“You didn’t know what was going on in my pants,” you shot back.

“I found out, didn’t I?”

Was it possible to want to choke someone while also wanting to be choked by them? Because that’s how you felt right now, listening to Jeon Jungkook’s stupid, sexy, smug voice in your ear.

“Shut up.”

You felt Jungkook’s body stiffen. Slowly, slowly, he backed up, out of your grasp, his hands leaving your back. You frowned, narrowing your eyes. There was a darkness in his, glaring down at you through his lashes. His lips were slightly parted, no longer smiling. You didn’t waver. His hand came up and took your chin, grip tightening into your cheeks until it was uncomfortable, tipping your head back into the wall. Lips hovering over yours, so close that he could kiss you, but he wasn’t doing it.

“Okay.”

The affirmation made your blood run cold with his unforgiving tone. He placed his lips on yours, but instead of kissing you, he breathed into your mouth, a hot, erotic stream right into the back of your throat, forcing yours back, making you inhale him. You moaned softly, but he retreated just as fast, hooking one arm around you, arching your back forcefully.

“J-Jungkook, what–”

Then he latched his lips onto one of your nipples, flicking it with his tongue, his hand around you rubbing the other as the other gripped the button of your jeans, popping it open. You cried out, hitting your head on the wall, bruising yourself as he yanked the zipper down, shoving his hand under your panties into your tight-jeans. Your nipples for far too sensitive to take more pain and yet Jungkook gave it to you, sucking and rubbing them simultaneously as he shoved one, two fingers into your slopping wet pussy, your moans echoing in the stairway as you stared up, head throbbing. Shocks of pain and pleasure traveled throughout your body, and still he shoved a third finger into you. Your body jerked, trying to spread your legs to accommodate him but your jeans were too tight and he was fucking you too hard, each thrust raising you to your tiptoes. He didn’t even have to stimulate your nipples anymore – they were just rubbing against his teeth and hand by the sheer force of him fingering you.

“A-ah, J-Jungkook, please…” you groaned, grinding into his hand, biting your lower lip hard to try and be a little quieter. “P-please, it’s t-too much...”

His eyes flickered up to you, glaring. You told me to shut up, they said.

“I’m s-sorry…” you panted out, gritting your teeth. “P-please…”

Jungkook detached his mouth, curling his lip. Hand leaving your nipple, tangling into your hair. “Are you really sorry, noona?” he drawled, yanking your head back and exposing your neck. “Are you?”

You whimpered, nodding tightly, his hand still in your hair, forcing you to tug on your own.

“Y-yes, Jungkook,” you breathed, feeling him release your hair. “I’m sorry…”

He smiled at you, an icy smile.

“That’s good.”

You felt him yank your pants down with his free hand, shoving them down to your knees. You almost tripped, but Jungkook grabbed your ass, fingertips digging into you so hard you were sure they would leave marks. He yanked you up, shoving a knee between yours and forcing your legs open. Your eyes went wide, his three fingers flexing inside you. His dark eyes boring into yours, a slow smirk forming on his lips.

“I’m still going to put another finger in you.”

He shoved a fourth into you, forcefully, and now nearly his entire hand was fucking you, pounding you into the wall. Your arms flew up to wrap around his shoulders, desperately holding on as he filled you, pushing his fingers against your walls. You gasped, clenching around his fingers, and Jungkook grinned, watching your face as he pushed you to the edge, feeling so stretched out, so embarrassingly wet that the sounds of your pussy were louder than your noises.

“Fuck, your pussy sounds so sexy,” Jungkook groaned. “Listen to that dirty pussy suck in my fingers, so fucking desperate for my cock.”

You shoved your head against the wall and squeezed your eyes shut, legs straining as you came, muscles spasming and the moan of his name racking through you, your throat already hoarse. He ripped his hand out of you and slapped your clit. Your knees buckled and you whined loudly as he gripped your ass with one wet and one dry hand, spreading it forcefully, pressing you against the wall.

“Take one leg out of your jeans,” Jungkook snarled.

You winced, pussy throbbing, giving him a what-the-fuck look.

“Do it.” He was not going to repeat himself.

You awkwardly kicked one of your sneakers off, untangling your right leg out of your pants. Now you were mostly naked in the fucking stairway with an almost shirtless Jungkook towering over you. Your poor sock fluttered to the floor, lost due to the tight ankle of your skinny jeans.

Jungkook grabbed your calf and pushed it up and out, effectively forcing you to stand on one leg.

“Jungkook, what–”

He hissed, staring at your glistening, puffy, red pussy lips, your hole opening and closing from the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Fuck.”

Jungkook leaned you back into the wall, snaking his hand between your legs, moaning with you as he touched your swollen clit. Slow, languid, deliberate, rubbing your clit in circles, melting you, your eyelids fluttering closed at his sudden sweet movements.

“Wanna fuck you just like this,” Jungkook breathed, inhaling your scent. “Just like this, against the wall, in this fucking stairway, your leg around my waist.” He pressed harder, earning a wretched whimper. “Want someone to find us and see you bouncing on my cock, fucked out and screaming my name.”

Your legs trembled, trying to close, but he held them open, teasing you, drawing your next orgasm out of you, slow this time, building you into a frenzy.

“Just do it,” you gasped. “Just fucking do it.”

“I want to,” he hissed back, rubbing faster. “I didn’t bring a fucking condom.”

You chuckled despite yourself, hips shuddering into his hand. “Didn’t think you were going to fuck Jimin or something?”

Jungkook narrowed his eyes at you and pinched your clit. Instantly you yelped, your standing knee buckling, but his own slammed against yours, locking it in place. You gasped at the pain, your pussy clenching around nothing as he furiously rubbed your clit. Your insides curled and you gulped for air, feeling the pain and pleasure rise into a crescendo.

“What if I stop, noona?” Jungkook barked sharply. “Since you’re being such a fucking brat.”

You clenched your jaw, trying to push back your own orgasm, relishing in his anger.

“I have a condom,” you panted, giving him an open-mouthed smirk. “Keep one in my wallet now, j-just for you, Jungkook.”

You saw something in his eyes change, something between an amused sparkle and an agonizing lust.

“Is that so?” Jungkook purred, bringing his face close to yours. His breath lit your skin on fire, the tense knot closing in on you fast as he rubbed you even faster, so fast that it felt like a vibrator on your aching clit. “So, you can always be prepared for me? So, I can take you wherever, whenever I want?”

You bit your lip, nodding, eyes glazing over as the first wave crashed on you.

“Fuck yeeeeees, Jungkook, whatever you fucking want,” you moaned, back arching, legs shuddering, letting him rub you as your hips jerked. Viscous liquid dripping down your thighs, pussy pulsating wetly, hands flat against the wall. He was going to be the death of you, making you agree to such crazy things in the middle of your fucking orgasm.

Jungkook let go of your leg. You leaned against the wall, trying to catch your breath, pretty sure all this was going to get you expelled. Even if there was no one in the building, someone down the street probably heard you by now with how loud this was becoming. You heard rustling under you, Jungkook going through your pockets on the floor to find your wallet, pulling out the condom.

“You’re actually insane,” you panted, blinking slowly as you watched Jungkook unzip his jeans, shoving them down. “I can’t even stand.”

Fuck, even just him pulling out his half-hard cock was already getting you wet again. Jungkook smirked at you, seeing your eyes on him. He stroked the length slowly, running his large hand over it. You frowned at him, tapping your hand against the wall in annoyance.

“I’m giving you a break,” he murmured, staring at your body as he gripped his cock, pumping once. He gasped, breathing your name.

“At least let me touch it,” you pouted, not even sure how you were still upright. Just pure lust, apparently.

Jungkook looked at you through his lashes, lips parting, tongue darting between them. He thrust his hips into his hand. You stiffened, seeing his wanton, arrogant expression. He wasn’t going to let you touch it. He was going to make you watch, frustrated, as he stroked himself to full hardness.

“Jungkook…”

He cocked an eyebrow at you, rolling his body into his hand, moaning softly.

“Jungkook, please…”

His tongue danced between his lips, moving his hand up and down slowly, rocking his hips into his cock, enjoying your pleading tone, your hands clenching into fists, your body heaving at the loss of him.

“Jungkook, come on,” you whined, spreading your legs, watching the angry red head disappear and reappear in the curve of his fingers. “I want you. Please.”

He took a step towards you, still stroking himself. “Yeah?” he breathed. Another step. And another. He still didn’t tell you that you could touch him yet, so you kept your hands at your sides, switching between his dark, lustful eyes and his rapidly hardening cock thrusting into his hand. “You want me, noona? You want to touch my cock?”

And now Jungkook was right next to you, still jacking himself off, the velvety, thick head rubbing against the smooth skin of your thigh. You moaned as you felt his pre-cum smearing onto your skin, adding to his lubrication.

“Y-yes,” you whispered, eyes glued to his cock rubbing against your fucking leg. Fuck, you wanted it in your mouth so bad. “Let me touch you, Jungkook.”

He leaned forward, lips brushing against your ear, his dark locks brushing against your cheek. His voice was a deep drawl, low and teasing, breath hot against your skin.

“Tell you what,” Jungkook purred. “I’ll let you put the condom on.” You whimpered, disappointed. “And then I’ll fuck you against this wall, nice and hard and fast, not stopping until I cum because of that delicious, sweet, tight pussy of yours.”

If you had any sanity left, it rapidly disappeared as you nodded hastily, wordlessly holding out your hands as Jungkook dropped the condom in your palm. He calmly removed his hand, his thick, fully hard cock erect as you slid the condom down, moaning as you felt the traces of his veins and muscle pulsing under your hands. Once you were done, Jungkook pushed your hands away, not giving you a chance to disobey him.

You pouted. “You’re a jerk.”

He grinned at you, lifting your leg and pinning it to your chest. “And you’re about to get fucked.”

In less than a second, Jungkook thrust his hips up and into you, tearing a gasp from your throat as he rapidly entered you, peeling apart your soaking, abused walls. You bit your tongue, grabbing his dress shirt as he rolled his hips into you again, groaning as he felt you clench around him.

“That’s it, noona,” he exhaled, slamming his hips into you. “You better fucking hold me tight. If I slip out, that’s all the fucking you’ll get from me.”

You whined, feeling him start a bruising pace, hands clamped onto your ass. Whether he was lying or not didn’t matter because you were squeezing your pussy for dear life, crying out as he thrust into you over and over, so full and overstimulated you didn’t know whether to focus on your aching, raw pussy or his cock periodically throbbing inside you, swelling against your walls.

You hooked your leg around his waist, changing the angle, instantly feeling him ram his cock into a deeper, more pleasurable spot. You tipped your head back, eyes rolling up into your head as your mouth opened, tongue sliding out. He pounded you relentlessly, your shoulder blades smacking the wall. Your swollen clit rubbed against the base of his cock repeatedly. Your body was going to ache all over tomorrow, but you still rose your hips to meet his, so drunk on the feeling of his cock stretching you out that nothing else mattered. You came suddenly, wailing Jungkook’s name, pussy spasming and squeezing him but he set his jaw and fucked you even harder, using every ounce of his energy to keep his own orgasm at bay.

“Who owns this body, noona?” he ground out. “Tell me, who owns this fucking body?”

You had to claw for your words, throat so strained your voice was thin. “Y-you do, Jungkook, oh fuck, oh fuck…”

“That’s fucking right,” he growled. “If you cum, it’s for me and only me. No. One. Else.” He punctuated each word by slapping his hips into you, sliding you up into the wall so gravity crashed you back down onto his cock. You moaned, helpless, as he hissed, shoving his face into your tits to moan hotly into your chest as he came, violent, thick jerks of his cock shuddering into you. Quickly, he gripped your hips and pulled up, hissing as half of his cock slid out, cum leaking out of the bottom of the condom and splatting onto the floor.

“Fuck,” he gasped. “Fuck.”

You could barely register anything as he hoisted you onto his shoulder, cursing loudly. Jungkook leaned against the wall with one shoulder, panting, the other half-carrying you, arm wrapped around your waist. The only thing that brought you back to reality was the fact that your bare ass was in the air and your pants were hanging off one leg.

“Jungkook,” you croaked. “Let me down.”

He lowered you, still leaning against the wall, trying to catch his breath. His hair covered almost his whole face, sweaty and glistening. He wiped some sweat off his chin with the back of his hand, flicking it away carelessly.

You pressed your back flat against the wall, using at as leverage to pull your pants back up, wincing at the now familiar cold feeling of your soaked panties meeting your abused pussy. You crouched to collect your sock and your shoe, wincing as pain radiated up your back.

Jungkook chuckled, watching you struggle with your sneaker. “Want help?”

You grunted, shoving it on. “Can we stop fucking in random ass places at school?”

“You said I could fuck you wherever I want, whenever I want,” he teased, giving you an open-mouthed smirk.

You readjusted your bra, putting it back on. You found the two bits of condom wrapping, shoving it in your pocket. “I did, but I want to see you fully naked for once, you punk.”

Jungkook laughed, rich and full. “I support this idea if you’re also fully naked.”

You made a face as you got up, trying to keep your steps steady so you didn’t seem like a drunk idiot. Or someone who just got railed by Jeon Jungkook.

“Give me the condom.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “I was going to drop it here. Mark my territory.”

You narrowed your eyes at him and took it from him as he extended his hand out. “Your buttons did that for you already,” you remarked, tying it up.

He smirked, zipping up his jeans. “You owe me a new shirt.”

“And you owe me new panties, again,” you shot back. “Where are my replacements?”

He shrugged, running a hand through his hair to push it back. Fuck. Open shirt, half-exposed forehead, smug-as-fuck Jungkook got you wet just by looking at him.

“Guess we should go shopping sometime.”

He smiled slyly, patting his pockets. His expression abruptly changed to confusion. He pulled out his wallet and phone, frowning. “Where are my car keys?” He furrowed his brow, looking at his phone. You found your keys and wallet still with you, surprised that they didn’t fall out of your pants. You phone was in your backpack, still in your car. He swiped at his phone, reading his messages.

Jungkook groaned. “I dropped them and Jimin took my car. Bastard.”

Fuck, his fucking deliciously toned and tan chest was distracting you. “I still have my keys,” you muttered, staring at his abs. Suddenly you started, realizing he was advancing on you.

“Oh?” Jungkook purred, opening his shirt wider. The fabric tumbled off his right shoulder, exposing his tattoos. His long dark hair covered part of his right eye, brown orbs glimmering with mischief.

“Wanna take me home, noona?”

Welp.

-

part iii

--

masterpost

[wreckofawriter]

Redbull

Pairing: Harry Potter x reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Swearing, a complete crack fic.

Song to Set the Vibe: Break Shit ~ Jasiah

Request: Reader gets extra homework from Snape and drinks redbull to finish it, she then freaks out becaue of overintake of caffeine

A/n: this is a crack fic plain and simple, kinda fun to write, I used it as an excuse to bash Snape and Pansy. It's not edited so ignore spelling and grammar(Ps I'm in love with Shigaraki Tomura so if anyone can help me that would be great)

    You rolled your eyes aimlessly flipping through your potions textbook in hopes to find something worth your time inside of it. You found nothing but continued to scan the pages, thoughts wandering to random topics. You groaned wondering if you could catch Harry’s attention from across the room. You cursed Snape for separating you, now you were stuck next to Pansy Perkins, someone you would sooner pitch from the autonomy tower than have a civilized conversation with, although you doubted she was able to have such things. You let out another loud sigh as your stares into your boyfriend’s head gave you no reaction. 

Pansy turned, glaring. You stuck your tongue out at her and she scoffed turning away. 

    “You’re disgustingly childish.” she spat inching her seat away from you. 

    “At least I’m not in love with a boy who finds me annoying and borderline repulsive.” You shot back. 

    She scowled back at you, “Shut your filthy mouth, you know nothing about me.”

    “I know you’re an uppity bitch.” You shrugged back grinning. 

    She let out a high pitched shriek as you struggled to keep in giggles. Eyes snapped toward your table and you looked towards your desk-mate pretending to be shocked by her outburst. 

    “Ms. Perkinson, is everything alright?” Snape was clearly uninterested in her answer. 

    For a second you were sure she would snitch on you but she decided to keep her dignity intact and shook her head. 

    You snickered, waving to Harry who rolled his eyes playfully, a small grin on his face. 

    As Snape went back to his lesson you smirked at the red-faced girl, “Wow Perkionson you truly decided to keep your pride on that one didn’t you?” 

    She responded with nothing no longer playing along. 

    “That’s something I would have done, you know us prideful Gryffindors. I suppose you were placed in the wrong house.” You continued to bait the girl. 

    She scoffed again, “I was put in the right house, thank you very much.” 

    “Oh sure, you were.” You bit your lip in thought before an idea revealed itself. “Oh my Godric, Draco is totally staring at you.” You gasped in mock surprise. 

    She snapped to attention spinning around to look where the blonde was seated only to find him asleep at his desk. You laughed quietly as she spun around to glare at you again. 

    “I’m only kidding of course,” You chuckled, “I’m sure he would rather stare at a troll’s ass than you, I know I sure would.” 

    Her cheeks blossomed with red anger, her eyes narrowing to slits as you held back barking laughter. “Shut up.” Her voice was shaky with fury. 

    “Ooo, looks like I’ve struck a nerve.” You jeered happily. “ ‘fried Darcy is never gonna love your little pug face?” 

    Apparently you took it too far because the girl leapt to her feet swinging her wand at you, “Flipendo!”

    You flipped straight off your chair and was flung into the desk next to you, a splintering pain shooting through your back. You didn’t let it show laughing as you stood “What?! Can’t take the truth pug-face?” You snatched your wand from your robes, “Tentaclifors!” 

    Pansy’s head was replaced by a large grey tentacle in seconds, “At least now you’ll look better!” You barked in a wide grin. Laughter and shouts echoed around you but your joy was cut in one swift flash. 

    “Y/l/n!” 

    You turned to see your professor, his anger quite evident amongst his dull features. 

    “Ms. Greengrass, please escort Ms. Perkinson to the hospital wing.” He snarled as you bit back a giggle. 

    “Since you seem to find dueling with a classmate while I’m teaching so amusing, y/l/n, I expect six pages on the essay due tonight instead of two.” He snapped. 

    “But she fired first!” You defended.

    “I simply do not care.” He responded, “I want six pages.” 

    You glared at the man mumbling some unpleasant words under your breath before taking your seat again. At least you only had ten minutes of class left. 

    Saying you liked to procrastinate would be an understatement. You were wildly in love with procrastination. You were an absolute expert at finding anything but your work to do. You shoved the essays and worksheets to the back of your mind and instead helped the twins with a prank or read a new book. You could close off the bad thoughts of school work like a pro, even Hermionie’s nagging couldn’t get you to work until the sunlight had faded and the stars were visible in the sky. 

    You had once again followed through on your usual routine and now at ten at night you were finally beginning to start your hours of work. 

    You groaned, “How can our professors be so cruel? This is a wildly unfair amount of work.”

    Hermione rolled her eyes, “Maybe if you had gotten started on it right away then you wouldn’t be so stressed right now.” 

    “Whatever.” You mumbled. 

    Harry who sat beside you, his head on your shoulder, arm around your waist peered at the textbooks you had placed in front of you. “Don’t you have that essay from Snape too?” 

    You whimpered, the sound of a wounded animal, “I totally forgot about that.” You buried your head into the dark-haired boy’s chest, “I’m so fucked.” 

    He chuckled earning a glare from you as you pouted up at him, “Sorry,” he murmured, “You’re just so cute.” 

    Ron groaned, “Can you not do that in front of me?” 

    Harry rolled his eyes, “Don’t be jealous Ron, green is not a good color on you.” 

    “I am not jealous.” He scoffed. 

    “Whatever,” you whined, “Someone help me. I’m gonna pass out in like an hour.”

    “That’s your own fault.” Hermione pointed out, you ignored her picking up your transfiguration notes and beginning to scribble down answers. 

    Three hours later you were completely exhausted. Both Hermione and Ron had retired to their beds. Harry was beside you struggling to stay awake as he poured over your Defense Against the Dark Arts paragraph. Your eyelids felt too heavy and your mind was fogged over, memories smeared in the mud of fatigue. You were at your breaking point. 

    “I haven’t even started that stupid essay.” You whimpered, eyes suddenly pricking with tears. You hiccuped choking back sobs, “I can’t do this.” 

    Harry sat up rubbing his eyes and stumbling towards you. He sat next to you holding open his arms as you buried yourself into his embrace. You let yourself go, tears spilling down your cheeks onto the boy’s shoulder. 

    “Y/n/n.” He whispered causing you to look up at him. He cupped your head in his hands using his thumbs to wipe your tears, their cold temperature feeling refreshing against your hot sticky skin. “You’re gonna be okay, I’m gonna get you an energy drink and you're going to be just fine. I swear.” 

    “Energy drink?” You tilted your head in confusion. 

    He nodded, “I’ve got a whole bunch of them up in my room so I can stay up.” 

    “Okay.” You mumbled leaning into his touch which was so cruelly torn away from you. 

    “I’ll be right back.”

    Harry stumbled back down the stairs with a brightly colored box a few minutes later. You investigated one of the cans he had given you and frowned.

    “Redbull?” 

    He nodded, “Yeah muggles drink the stuff all the time, it's like super-powered coffee.” You shrugged, cracking open the can to a small fizz, “Careful it tastes like shit.” 

    You took a large swig anyway cringing at the taste but ignoring it. 

    You heard the hiss of carbonation and glanced over at Harry who was about to take a sip of the liquid. “Harry, go to bed, I’ll finish this myself.” 

    He glanced hazily at you, “Are you sure?” 

    You nodded, taking the drink from him, “I’ll be fine.” 

    “Okay.” He spoke hesitantly standing, “Love you y/n/n.” He placed a kiss on your forehead. 

    “Love you too.” You responded “Goodnight.” 

    He disappeared upstairs and you took another sip. 

    Harry awoke the next morning and clambered down the dormitory steps to find you pacing and what seemed to be mumbling to yourself. He scrunched his brow and continued across the room looking down when he heard a loud clang and felt something bounce off his shoe. It turned out to be a can that was sent rolling across the carpeted room knocking into three others on the way. 

You had now noticed the boy’s arrival and turned to greet him, “Harry!” You yelled a bit too loudly, “Thank Godric you’re up! I’ve been waiting for ages.” You scampered across the room laughing a bit. Harry noticed the almost hazy look in your eyes immediately, dark circles also accompanied them. 

“Y/n how long have you been up?” He hesitantly asked, not really wanting to hear the answer. 

You glanced down at your watch and did a bit of math, “26 hours give or take.” You were bouncing on your heels. 

Harry’s eyes widened, “You didn’t sleep at all?” 

“Couldn’t, that shit really works man,” You spoke too quickly, “Like really works” 

“Exactly how much did you have?” He wondered in part amazement part fear. 

“Umm like all of it.” You responded as you walked away from him and began to pack up your stuff in a rushed manner. 

“All of it?!” Harry choked out his eyes glancing around the room finding far too many can littering the floor.

You nodded, “Yep, yeppers, sure did. In fact, do you have any more? I think I might need to ride this high for a few more hours.” 

“Y/n, I’m not giving you anymore that is extremely unhealthy,” Harry said, watching as desperation filled your eyes only to be replaced by determination. 

You sprinted towards his stairs, tripping on one but standing before you could even feel the bruise begin to form on your knee. 

“Y/n/n what are you doing?” Harry called after you, “Hey get down here!” 

By the time Harry managed to make it up the stairs you had already pulled another box of the drinks from under his bed, ripped it open and was drinking a can. Ron who was shirtless apparently changing stared at you in horror. 

“The hell y/n!” 

You laughed, “Bug off Ron.” Your voice was so rushed it was almost inaudible. You then ran from the room dodging Harry and stumbling back down the stairs. Harry chased after you frantically. “Y/n!” 

You laughed again, “Let’s head to breakfast Harry!” You then skipped out of the portrait hole. 

By the time potions rolled around you had finished off almost all of the cans in the new box you had stolen before Harry managed to snag it from you. You were still hours from crashing and insisted on running on your good feeling. Literally. 

You sprinted through the halls not much caring about the students and teachers you bumped into. You ran straight through Nearly Headless Nick and shrieked at the icy temperature you plunged into but kept running. You reached the dungeons in record time before running into Malfoy who cussed at you. 

You turned to face him in a whirlwind, “You know Draco, I think I’m quite a nice person but you make me just want to break your nose.” You said it so matter-of-factly his eyes went wide and you were gone before he could answer. 

You made it to the potions room and burst inside Harry wheezed for breath at the door deciding he needed to work out more. 

“Snape!” You called loudly plopping onto your desk and removing your papers, scrawled in messy handwriting. 

“It’s Professor Snape.” He corrected you in a snarl. 

You blinked owlishly at him tilting your head to the side, “But I’m not a professor.” 

Snape frowned, dropping his mouth to say something but before he could, you lunged at him, shoving your homework into his hands and laughing wildly as he stumbled backward. 

“Y/l/n what on earth is wrong with you?” He spat. 

You shrugged, “Redbull.” 

“What is a Red Bull?” he scoffed. 

“A potion.” You responded and Harry snorted, “You haven’t heard of it? It's something muggles made, it helps keep you awake when your dickwad of a teacher gives you extra homework.” 

Snape’s face flashed, red anger crawling onto his pale visage, “10 points from Gryffindor for insulting a teacher.” 

You snickered, “Make it twenty you greasy hairball.” 

He did. 

Pansy found sitting next to you extremely difficult, you continued to pick at your desk, leg bouncing absentmindedly as you hummed a song. 

“Have you gone insane y/l/n?” she asked in a hushed whisper refusing to meet your eye after yesterday’s duel. 

“Yes.” you confirmed loudly, “I was forced to look at you.” Snickers and laughs echoed around you and you smiled smugly. “I can’t even imagine what it's like for poor Malfoy when you shove yourself into his face every hour. No wonder he constantly looks like he has a broom handle shoved up his ass.” 

This caused Seamus who sat a few seats from you to laugh so hard his eyes began to water as his deskmate Dean chuckled helplessly. 

“Y/l/n!” Snape hissed, “Do you think this is a comedy club?”

“Considering you’re the one in charge it should be.” You answered. “But you aren’t very funny, so maybe not.” 

Seamus howled slamming his hand on his desk as Ron damn near fell out of his chair. Gryffindor lost more points and Harry decided to never give you an energy drink ever again. 

Taglist:

@accio-rogers

@roslea

@k3nz-doodl3

@theseuscmander

@sleepingalaska

Masterlist

[prorevenge]

Shady boss lies about me to coworkers, I have her fired and in dept for several years after.

I have been lurking around here fore quite some time, and wishing I had a good story for you, until suddenly I realized I do! This happened back in 2011/12 when I was the ripe old age of 19 years old. This is a long one, so do strap in.

I got a part time job at a fast food place specializing in subs, not subway, but very similar, when I was 17. It was located in the towns mall, and was fairly busy. It’s a national chain where I’m from. When I started there the owner at the time was really nice, and she started that branch in my town. She was very strict on following all the cleaning requirements and took real pride in her shop. The way it was set up financially was that the franchise taker basically had to work from open to closing (9 am-7 pm) to even have a chance at making a decent living, and preferably only have one part timer helping for a few hours when it was at its busiest. It’s like the MLM of fast food. Why anyone would take on such a business wager is beyond me, but I digress. However, this owner actually managed to make money off it.

A year or so after I started, the owner decided she would move to a different part of the country and sell her branch and have someone else take over. That lucky individual was my co-worker who was three years older than me. (From now on Bosslady) She had worked there since it opened and was the natural choice to move up the ladder. Because she didn’t have the money to pay for the share in the franchise, about $5k, and nobody else was willing to pay that and have to work their ass off for minimal revenue, HQ allowed her to take over while they bought the old owner out, and HQ kept the share.

Now, Bosslady had no idea how to run a mile, much less a business, and small things started happening quite soon after she took over. I would normally work there after school, by myself, but she would often hang around the mall when she had finished work. Bosslady always complained about how little money she made, and would often come by when me or the other part timers were working and tell us to give her $20-100 right out of the register. Considering total daily sales never reached more than about $1200, that was a lot. I barely made $12/h, so my motivation was too low to care, and neither did the rest of the part timers, so we complied and gave her the money. My spider sense was tingling a bit, telling me it was fishy to grab money right out of the register, even if she was the owner, but if she wanted to dig her own grave that was fine by me.

I was friends with Bosslady and we would hang out and often hung out on the weekends, and we worked saturdays together. Which ment we would go out on Friday nights, get shit faced and work the next day hung over. Oh to be young. I would only go out during the weekends and never missed a day of work no matter how hung over I was, and saturdays were the only days I would be hung over. Besides school and work, I was in a dance company, and had dance classes everyday, mostly after 7pm, but a few days I had them earlier and couldn’t work no matter what. This is important.

Every night we would count the register, leave $100 dollars in change and small bills for the next day, and deposit the rest in a safe at the mall. I’m not entirely sure, because it’s been a long time, but I do believe Bosslady would tell us to take the difference out of the $100 for the register, somehow believing the money would magically show up the next day. After a while we started having problems with the distributers, we were not allowed to order on credit, and had to go to the bank to pay the bills in person etc. After that things started getting really weird, and Bosslady refused to let us make the cash deposits at night, insisting that we put the money bags in one of the cabinets inside the shop, which after a month or two culminated to a lot of cash. We had also had trouble a few months with getting paid on time. Since I worked the most out of all the part timers, I had the biggest salary, and the people who administered pay decided to pay the smaller checks first. This girl had bills to pay so that did not sit well with me. I was also the hardest worker out of all of us, Bosslady included.

Then one lovely Tuesday while I was at school, one of the other part timers asked me to cover her shift, to which I said I wasn’t able to because not only did I have back-to-back dance classes I also had a paper to write for school. Later that night I get a text from the girl saying “if you were hung over you could have just said so, you don’t have to lie..” and I’m like “excuse me? I don’t drink on school nights, and there’s no way I would have had the time to do so last night with dance class right after work and working on my paper” to which she just answered “yeah sure, Bosslady told me you were out last night”. The funny part is, this was a fairly small town, so there where nowhere to go on weeknights, so even if I wanted to break my own rules and party on a school night, I couldn’t. This really pissed me off, and figured I would stop playing nice and saving Bosslady’s ass.

Que the revenge: One day out of the blue, during summer, Bosslady declared she was going to go on a last minute, two week vacation to the states, and told me to take care of the shop while she was gone. I said fine, but would like more notice next time. I also asked her how she paid for it, considering she wasn’t able to take out any salary from the shop, and she just said “oh, I had some savings”. I just thought “Hmm, that’s weird considering you actually don’t make money”, but didn’t say anything.

The first day I was in charge HQ called, and the conversation went like this:

HQguy: “hey, is Bosslady around?”

Me: “No, she took a last minute vacation to the states and put me in charge, didn’t she tell you?”

HQguy: “No, she did not indulge that information. But maybe you can help me. Do you know what happened to all the cash deposits from the past few months?”

Me: “Yeah, they’re in one of the cabinets here. Bosslady told us not to deposit them, she even yelled at me when I was about to, because I felt really uncomfortable knowing we had what must have been more than $15k lying around in the shop, and gave me an excuse about having to look them over”

HQguy: “Are you serious?!”

Me: “Sure am. What should I do?”

HQguy: “I know the previous owner is in town, maybe you can call her and ask if she can come help you? She knows what’s what, and please deposit all the cash today!”

Me: “Sure, no problem. I will look over all the cash bags to see how much there actually is and make sure they’re all there and deposit them ASAP” and we hung up.

I called the old owner and told her what was up, and she sounded really surprised and was there within ten minutes. Together we quickly looked over all the cash, but didn’t count it. They where in these little pouches that had a form on the front where you filled in how many of each bill and coin was in it, so we figured the right amount would be in each bag. They weren’t sealed, because Bosslady had told us not to seal them before putting them in the cabinet. I then put them all in a bag and discretely made my way over to the safe where we deposited them. It was on the other side of the mall, and the mall was open so my heart was racing. I felt like everyone knew I was carrying a shitload of cash.

The old owner started asking me if we kept up with the cleaning requirements, and I answered truthfully that Bosslady never told us to do any of the time consuming stuff, like the ice-cube machine, saying that we would have to do that after closing and she didn’t have the money to pay us for the extra hours, so she said would do it on the weekends herself. Old owner just shrugged and told me she had to leave. Since I was all alone in the shop and it was fairly quiet, I started looking around for things to clean. This was around 4 pm. I quickly realized that she had never cleaned anything like she said she had. Under the fridges and workbenches there where LAYERS of dirt, the water tank in the ice cube machine was GREEN with algae, the cooling fans in the refrigerators where covered in mold. I started cleaning, but quickly realized this would require my full attention, so I closed the shop early. I called the old owner and she supported my decision and called the mall manager for me to let them know what was up.

I have never cleaned that much in my life. I scrubbed everything. I pulled all the refrigerators out and scrubbed thoroughly behind everything. What took the longest was the ice cube machine. I wasn’t done until 11 pm that night. Being the petty bitch I am, and being pissed Bosslady went on vacation with the shop in the state it was, I took pictures of everything before I started cleaning and sent them all to the food safety agency, telling them that nothing had been cleaned for over a year. I also got to clock all the hours I spent cleaning, getting an ok from HQguy. Looking back now and seeing how little I was paid, I would have just not cared, but at the time I was afraid people would get sick and die from eating the food.

The next day I called the old owner and all the part timers asking them to meet at my place saying we needed a staff meeting without Bosslady and now was the chance. They all came and we started talking, telling me what Bosslady had done when they were working together and other things they had observed her doing. I took notes, and later that night I wrote a seven(!!) page document listing all the things we knew she did wrong, and how we suspected she was stealing money from the shop etc., and I emailed it directly to HQguy. He emailed me back saying he would look into it.

HQguy called me a few days later thanking me for notifying him about all the things she was doing, and told me that when the cash was registered the amount listed on the form and the amount in the pouches wasn’t the same, and asked me if I knew where it had gone. A light went off, and I realized the “savings” Bosslady had used to pay for her trip was actually money she had taken from the pouches, and that’s why she wouldn’t let us seal them. I told him as much and he said he would dig a little.

When Bosslady came back from vacation, she seemed very stressed. I acted like nothing had happened when she was gone, but chuckled when she opened the cash cabinet and saw that all the money was gone, and her face turned so white she was almost see through, but she said nothing. She was in the back most of the day on her phone and came out asking me if I could cover for her the next few days as she had to go to HQ for a last minute meeting (HQ was 8 hours away). I agreed and went home.

Over the next few days I was seething with excitement to find out what happened. When she came back she tried to play it cool and said “I’ve decided to quit. I feel like doing something different, so I’m just working until the end of the month, and then I’m leaving”, and I just acted sorry and oblivious. I knew the old owner was kept in the loop by HQ, and she told me what really happened.

Bosslady had met with HQ who had questioned her about the missing money and lack of cleaning etc. (there was more, but this is already longer than the Bible). She had denied it all at first, trying to pin it on of us, and saying she had suspected someone was stealing the money and that’s why she didn’t deposit it etc, but eventually broke down and admitted it all. She was then given the option of quitting and paying them back all the missing money in installments or having charges pressed against her. She obviously chose the former. Personally I would have pressed charges no matter what, but they wanted to help her out because I guess they understood she was in a bit of a tough situation with not making any money on the shop, and also didn’t want it blow up in the media.

I kept working there for a few more months, but quit because i found a job that paid more. Word spread about what Bosslady had done, so she really struggled to find a new job to pay what she owed, since no one trusted her. She eventually did, but had to pay them back for several years later. We did not keep in touch.

Guess she shouldn’t have lied about me to my coworkers.

And I’m all out of breath

TL;DR: shady boss lies to my coworkers about me being too hungover to cover their shifts, I tell HQ about all the shady stuff she’s doing and she loses her job and has to pay them back the money she stole for several years, and lost her good reputation.

(source) story by (/u/Dachshundsandwhisky)

[gabtapia]

Warning extra long ask lmao:

The last three chapters broke me. 😭😭😭

But the worse thing was reading first two paragraphs of ch 31 and having it go from Patroclus’s narrative to third person narrative because Patroclus is dead so he can’t tell the story anymore 🥺🥺😭

I have so much to say so i’m gonna use quotes to help:

“A prophecy,” she said. “That the best of the Myrmidons will die before two more years have passed.”

She draws down the blanket, releasing me into the air. She cups my face in her hands. “Be careful tomorrow,” she says. “Best of men. Best of the Myrmidons.” She places her fingers to my lips, stopping my objection. “It is truth,” she says. “Let it stand, for once.” Then she leads me to the side of her tent, helps me slip beneath the canvas. The last thing I feel is her hand, squeezing mine in farewell.

No. My hands flurry in the air like startled birds, trying to halt the spear’s relentless movement towards my belly. But I am weak as a baby against Hector’s strength, and my palms give way, unspooling in ribbons of red. The spearhead submerges in a sear of pain so great that my breath stops, a boil of agony that bursts over my whole stomach. My head drops back against the ground, and the last image I see is of Hector, leaning seriously over me, twisting his spear inside me as if he is stirring a pot. The last thing I think is: Achilles.

WHY??? Why does Patroclus have to be the person of the prophecy. They made it pretty obvious that it was him but my God actually reading it I-

Calm down Chiara. Say this properly.

WAIT NO THERE IS NO WAY TO SAY THS PROPERLY PARTOCLUS IS DEAD 😭 AND THE FEW PARTS WHERE ACHILLES DOESN’T KNOW HE’S DEAD YET MY GOD I JUST STARTED BAWLING IT HURT TOO MUCH

HIS GRIEF AFTER PATROCLUS DIES IS JUST SO RAW I COULD LTERALLY IMAGNINE PATROCLUS IN THE TENT AND ACHILLES CRYING OVER HIS BODY AND MY HEART-

But he cannot feel it. There is a numbness in him. The writhing field is like a gorgon’s face, turning him slowly to stone. The snakes twist and twist before him, gathering into a dark knot at the base of Troy. A king has fallen, or a prince, and they are fighting for the body. Who? He shields his eyes, but no more is revealed. Patroclus will be able to tell him.

HE SEES THE THING IN PIECES. Men, coming down the beach towards the camp. Odysseus, limping beside the other kings. Menelaus has something in his arms. A grass-stained foot hangs loose. Locks of tousled hair have slipped from the makeshift shroud. The numbness now is merciful. A last few moments of it. Then, the fall.

He snatches for his sword to slash his throat. It is only when his hand comes up empty that he remembers: he gave the sword to me. Then Antilochus is seizing his wrists, and the men are all talking. All he can see is the bloodstained cloth. With a roar he throws Antilochus from him, knocks down Menelaus. He falls on the body. The knowledge rushes up in him, choking off breath. A scream comes, tearing its way out. And then another, and another. He seizes his hair in his hands and yanks it from his head. Golden strands fall onto the bloody corpse. Patroclus, he says, Patroclus. Patroclus. Over and over until it is sound only. Somewhere Odysseus is kneeling, urging food and drink. A fierce red rage comes, and he almost kills him there. But he would have to let go of me. He cannot. He holds me so tightly I can feel the faint beat of his chest, like the wings of a moth. An echo, the last bit of spirit still tethered to my body. A torment.

I’M MAD AT BOTH OF THEM FOR BEING STUPID IDOITS FOR ACHILLES NOT LETTING HIS PRIDE GO AND FOR PATROCLUS FUCKING GETTING HIMSELF KILLED BUT I CAN’T EVEN STAY MAD AT THEM BECUASE HELL THEY ARE SO BEAUTIFUL AND THEY DIDN’T DESERVE ANY OF IT

And then Pyrrhus? I want to kill the asshole:

“When I am dead, I charge you to mingle our ashes and bury us together.”

There's is a slight pause. “Your father and his companion. Patroclus.” “And why should this man be buried beside Aristos Achaion?” The air is thick. They are all waiting to hear Menelaus’ answer. “It was your father’s wish, Prince Neoptolemus, that their ashes be placed together. We cannot bury one without the other.” Pyrrhus lifts his sharp chin. “A slave has no place in his master’s tomb. If the ashes are together, it cannot be undone, but I will not allow my father’s fame to be diminished. The monument is for him, alone.” Do not let it be so. Do not leave me here without him. The kings exchange glances. “Very well,” Agamemnon says. “It shall be as you say.” I am air and thought and can do nothing.

Pyrrhus’ hand closes on the shapeless, blowing dress of the princess Polyxena and yanks her towards the altar. “This is what my father’s soul deserves.” He will not. He dare not. As if in answer, Pyrrhus smiles. “Achilles is pleased,” he says, and tears open her throat. I can taste it still, the gush of salt and iron. It seeped into the grass where we are buried, and choked me. The dead are supposed to crave blood, but not like this. Not like this.

And then the way Achilles just becomes a cold killer after Patroclus dies reading that part felt so bad because it wasn’t Achilles anymore and i was so glad when he died. But then Patroclus didn’t get a proper bury and i freaked because why??? I thought the book might end with him not being reunited with Achilles in the underworld and i had another good cry because seriously that would be the most unfair thing. I was so, so, so happy when Thetis wrote his name.

So basically i’m not okay right now and ever time i think about them before the war happen my eyes fill with tears because they were just so happy and innocent and in love and it hurts to think of what happened during the war. I’m glad i read this book thought, but i know the pain wont go away for a while watch me punish myself by reading all the fluffy scenes 😭

@in-love-with-themoon did you finish yet? I realize i may be spoiling for you, sorry about that! 😅 tell me if your finished the book! And i will send you bunches and bunches of tissues

Sending you lots of love, hugs, ice cream, and tissues!! 💙

I swear I had to take a break after reading that book

The last 3 chapters are just pain

Tbh I was crying since they said goodbye to Chiron because Achilles told him that they were going to come back in a few days and I was like nope you are not and even Chiron knew they weren't coming back 😭😭😭

Since the prophecy said that "the best of myrmidons" I was like fuck is Patroclus and this is bad

The scene that broke me was when Patroclus said that they didn't say the words (I love you) because they would have more time to say them, like in the night when they talk about their day and I was like please tell him 😭😭😭😭😭

THE MOST PAINFUL THING IS THAT EVEN WHEN PATROCLUS KNEW HE WAS GONNA DIE, HE TRIED TO STOPPED HECTOR BECAUSE HE KNEW THAT IF HECTOR KILLED HIM, ACHILLES WOULD KILLED HECTOR AND THE ACHILLES WOULD DIE AND HE DIDN'T WANT THAT 😭😭

AND OMG I WAS SO MAD WITH THEM, WITH ACHILLES FOR BEING SO STUBBORN AND WITH PATROCLUS FOR FIGHTING EVEN WHEN HE KNEW HE DIDN'T STAND A CHANCE!!! 😭

YES I KNOW WHEN ACHILLES IS SURE THAT PATROCLUS IS GONNA COME BACK AND EVERYTHING IS GONNA BE FINE, BUT WE KNOW THAT HE IS ALREADY DEAD 😭😭😭😭

ACHILLES GRIEVE BROKE ME HOW HE DIDN'T WANT TO SEPARATE FROM THE BODY AND HOW HE JUST WANTED TO KILL HECTOR AS SOON AS POSSIBLE

AND I WAS CRYING MY EYES OUT WHEN HECTOR'S FATHER TALKED WITH ACHILLES AND TOLD HIM THAT THEY SHOULD LET THE DEAD REST, AND ONLY AFTER THAT ACHILLE AGREED TO BURN THE BODY 😭😭😭

WHEN ACHILLES DIED WITH A SMILE ON HIS FACE BECAUSE HE THOUGHT THAT FINALLY HE COULD BE REUNITED WITH PATROCLUS 😭😭😭

Don't let me get started with Pyrrhus I hate that jerk so much I was happy when thetis said he was dead!, When he was taking decisions on his father's name I was like stfu you don't even know him!!

And for real I thought they would never be reunited and that Patroclus' soul would be strand in the living world forever I was crying but then thetis appeared and for once in the whole book she wasn't a bitch!

Yes before the war they would never imagine what the fate had for them and it's so sad because they just wanted to love each other, and their love was so beautiful and I love their communication because no matter how bad the things were they always tell the truth to the other 😭😭😭

Believe me I already reread their fluffy scenes and it's never enough! 😭

I'm glad you enjoy the book too, even when it left us with a void in the heart!!

[theotherackerman]

My Mind Turns Your Life Into Folklore

My Mind Turns Your Life Into Folklore

COPYRIGHT DISCLAIMER: Any recognizable elements belong to Attack on Titan.

NOTES:

Flashback: Historia, age 13

Current time: Tuesday, January 5th

chapter nine: i wanna be your endgame

Historia had joined the group in junior high when her life had been uprooted. The boys had immediately swarmed her, showering her in attention. Much of that attention was unwanted, especially from Samuel and Daz.

It had been gym class when the teacher had proclaimed it was time for dodgeball. It was boys versus girls.

Historia was okay at this game but she noticed Daz had taken a liking to trying to get her out.

“Hey Historia, if I get you out, you have to go out with me!” He yelled.

“Hey! Same with me!” Samuel added.

She had done fairly well dodging and hiding but when two balls were headed directly her way, one from Samuel and one from Daz, she suddenly felt doomed.

Just as they were about to hit her, someone shoved her out of the way. Historia fell to the ground.

“Get them, Mikasa and Annie,” the girl with short brown hair said as she offered her hand to Historia.

Mikasa and Annie looked at one another, then nodded. They threw with deadly precision, getting both Daz and Samuel out.

Historia took the girl’s hand and she pulled her to her feet.

When lunch came, Historia was once again being pestered by Daz.

“You should sit with me,” he insisted.

Historia was too nice to say no. She needed friends here, even if they were creepy friends. Before she could answer, someone else spoke up.

“She can’t because she’s sitting with us,” said the same girl who had saved her in dodgeball.

Historia looked over at her new hero.

“You’re such a bitch, Ymir,” Daz scoffed.

“Oh wow, haven’t heard that one before,” Ymir said as she grabbed her lunch tray and walked away.

Historia followed the girl to the only table that seemed not to have a certain clique. She sat down in between Ymir and the girl with the black hair who had saved her earlier in the day.

“Alright, this is Historia, everyone,” Ymir announced. “I’m Ymir. That’s all I’ve got to say about myself. Let me introduce you to everyone else. So on this side of the table we’ve got Mikasa. Don’t let her looks fool you, she can kick anyone’s ass. She is pretty good at writing and playing piano too. Us girls go over to her house a lot for sleepovers.”

Mikasa gave Historia a small wave.

“Then there’s Annie, our resident math genius. Her dad is teaching her to play guitar. She’s the other half of our ass kicking team.”

“Hi,” Annie said before returning to drinking her milk.

“If anyone bothers you, just get one of those two. The one stuffing her face is Sasha. She’s in the school marching band, percussion.”

“Hi Historia,” Sasha said after swallowing the food she had been eating.

“Connie is next to Sasha. His parents own the farm next to Sasha’s with a huge pumpkin patch. He’s an all around good dude.”

“Aw, Ymir. You do like me. Hey Historia!” Connie called.

“The last person on this side is Jean. He’s….he’s Jean. If he gives you too much shit, just call him horse face. After you get to know him, he’s okay...most of the time.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Ymir? Stop calling me horse face!” Jean yelled from the end of the table.

Ymir ignored Jean, pointed to the boy sitting across from her. “This is Reiner. He’s probably going to be captain of the high school football team one day. He’s okay...most of the time.”

“What do you mean by that?!” Reiner asked.

“That’s Bertolt, he’s Reiner's best friend. Pretty cool guy once you get to know him.”

“Hi,” Bertolt said, not fully making eye contact.

“That’s Eren. He can be a bit of hot head sometimes. He and Jean get into a lot of arguments. He’s a pretty good guy though. Then right next to him is Armin. He’s our other genius. Armin, Mikasa, and Eren are literally inseparable. Find one, you’ll probably find the other two. Unless their class schedules split them up.”

“You’re not wrong,” Eren said before going back to talk to Mikasa.

“Hi,” Armin said as he gave a small wave.

“Floch is...well...he’s Floch. You’ll see what I mean,” Ymir introduced the second to last person.

“What does that mean?!” Floch asked.

Jean laughed, “your introduction was worse than mine!”

Ymir continued to ignore Jean and Floch. “ And the last person is Marco. He’s probably the  most normal out of all of us. He’s pretty smart too. Well, that’s everyone.”

“You’re in my piano class,” Mikasa said with a smile.

“Yeah, I guess I am,” Historia prepared herself for the prying questions that would come from the table about her family, her money. She had already experienced them in most of her classes.

“Do you like playing piano?” Mikasa asked before sipping her milk.

Historia’s face lit up. It was the first time someone had actually asked her opinion on something.

“Yeah, actually, I do. What about you?” Historia bit into her sandwich.

Mikasa nodded before putting her milk back on the tray. “Yeah, my cousin plays. He had been teaching me. He’s a lot more helpful than Mr. Grice.”

“He’s awful! I thought it was just because I was new!”

“No, he just doesn’t know how to teach.”

When the bell rang, the group scattered. Mikasa, Ymir, and Historia ended up walking the same way to science class together. When they arrived, there was Daz in the front row.

“Hey Historia, I saved you a seat,” he called to her.

Mikasa just glared at him before taking Historia’s hand and led Historia to the lab table she shared with Ymir.

Daz said nothing.

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

The coffee shop was mostly empty.

Ymir had been grateful for that.

“Hello! Welcome to Ral’s coffee shop!” The barista called from behind the counter. “So what can I get you two?”

“I’ll take an Americano with an extra shot, toffee syrup, 4 sugars, and cinnamon,” Ymir ordered.

“Can I get a macchiato with white chocolate syrup?” Historia ordered.

“Sure thing! I’ll get both of those done and bring them to you!” The barista said with a smile.

They left the register and wandered to a small table in the back corner of the coffee shop.

“You recognize anyone here from when you worked here?” Historia asked as she sat down.

“No, I don’t see Petra anywhere. She might have got married to Oluo finally,” Ymir said as she took the seat across from Historia.

A few moments later, the barista brought over their coffees.

“I never knew your mom was bipolar,” Historia said before taking a drink.

“Yeah, it’s not something I like to talk about,” Ymir muttered as she stared at her coffee cup.

“I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you talk to anyone besides me about your mom.”

Ymir took a drink of her coffee. This was not a conversation she had prepared for. “I said something to Mikasa about her the other day. It was about how I haven’t visited her grave since she died and my dad’s before that. Not a big deal. I mean what is there to say about her?”

“And your dad was a soldier, right?”

Ymir nodded.

“Yeah, see that you told me. That’s why Levi likes you so much.”

Ymir scoffed, “Levi feels pity for me. You know that’s why I don’t talk about this. I don’t want to see that pity in your eyes.”

“I don’t pity you, Ymir.”

“Okay…” She said sarcastically before taking a drink.

“Really? Deflecting again?” Historia rolled her eyes. “I thought we were supposed to talk.”

“Yeah, we were until you started bringing my parents up.”

“Oh, so are we not going to talk now? Ymir, if you don’t want this, just say it.”

“Are you really stupid enough to think I don’t want this? You’re the one who pushes me away. Dating Reiner, that farm boy. Always keeping me close enough but never actually saying your feelings for me. I’ve put it out there, Historia. I’ve loved you and been in love with you since we were thirteen. I’ve never hidden it. You’re the one sending the mix signals.”

“I’m not sending mixed signals!”

“You are!”

“Oh. Okay! So you just go on dates with other people? I didn’t realize we had an open relationship!” Ymir yelled.

“We never had a real relationship because you never asked me to be in one!” Historia yelled back at her.

The barista rounded the corner. “We had some customers complain…”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m leaving anyway,” Ymir stood up and pushed past the barista.

The cold January air hit her square in the face as she walked towards the bookshop where Sasha was waiting for them.

“YMIR!” She heard Historia’s voice behind her.

“What?” Ymir said as she turned around.

“That’s it?” Historia asked as she caught up. The heels of her boots clicked on the sidewalk.

“What’s it?”

“This? It’s over?”

“According to you, it never began.”

“Ymir...please don’t.”

“Don’t what? There’s nothing left for me to do. You think I have to ask you out.”

“Because I don’t know if you actually like me! How do I know it’s not because of my money or my family. All that farmer boy wanted was….”

Ymir kissed her, silencing her.

When she pulled away, she saw Historia smile. “You talk way too much, you know that?”

Historia laughed as Ymir took her hand into hers as they continued their walk to the bookstore.

“So…” Historia started.

“So what? I’ve proposed to you like fifteen times now, you turned me down. You wounded my pride. You get to do all the asking from now on.”

“....are you going to be my girlfriend then?”

“Are you asking?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah.”

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

This damn song was going to be the death of Mikasa.

Lyrics were not coming as they normally did.

And why couldn’t she stop thinking about the song on that damn flash drive?

What song hadn’t she finished with Eren?

And what could Eren have possibly done with it to improve it?

She didn’t want to ask Levi for the box back. Not yet, it was too soon. She had checked with him to see if there had been a letter. Levi confirmed that Eren wasn’t lying. There was indeed a letter and if she ever wanted it, it was there.

She sat in room, pen tapping on her notebook.

She needed a response to Eren’s song now. She wanted to tell him exactly how she had felt remembering things that had happened between them.

His song had been really beautiful.

That wasn’t the most surprising thing of the night though.

No, that went to Armin deciding to stay at Eren’s place with him. It was good for them though.

Not to mention that Mikasa had been concerned about Eren staying alone after what he told her.

With Armin there, things would be easy.

She heard a strange sound coming from the bathroom.

Like someone was getting sick.

She tried to remember who was in the house.

Levi and Hange were at dog training for the puppies.

Sasha had gone with Ymir and Historia.

She heard crying which pulled her from her thoughts.

She left her room and knocked on the bathroom door.

“Annie?” She asked.

“I’m fine,” a cracked voice said from the other side of the door.

“I don’t believe you.”

Water ran and turned back off. The door opened to reveal a tear streaked face.

“Leave it alone, Mikasa. You’ve got enough to worry about,” Annie said as she pushed past Mikasa.

“You’re not eating and then…”

“No! No.”

“Well I know you tried the extreme diet once.”

“It was a fast and no. It’s not that. I’m fine, really.” Annie walked back to the room she was staying in.

“Annie, something is going on. You asked Levi to live here when you could have gone home to your dad. Sasha, I get living here. It’s far from the farm. You’re only a few blocks away.”

“I said leave it alone, Mikasa.”

“Annie, did your dad kick you out?”

Annie threw her arms up defeated. “Okay, yeah. He did. Is that what you want to hear?”

“No, I just know you better than almost anyone here. Well, besides Armin, he knows you best.”

Annie sat down on the bed, “can we not talk about Armin right now?”

“Did you have a fight?” Mikasa asked as she sat down next to her.

Annie immediately started crying again as she shook her head. Mikasa didn’t know what to do. Annie kept everything inside. It wasn’t because she didn’t care, it was the opposite. People sometimes would write Annie off as unfeeling but that was simply not true. She just didn’t speak unless she felt like she could add something to the conversation.

Annie ended up resting her head on Mikasa’s shoulder while Mikasa just held her. Mikasa had never seen Annie like this. She was always so put together so whatever it was, it had to be big.

After a while of Annie just crying, she finally spoke, “you’re the only one besides my dad and Levi who know. You can’t tell anyone.”

“You told Levi?” Mikasa asked as she pulled away.

“I didn’t have much of a choice. I needed a place to stay but I needed to give him a reason.”

“Okay?”

“Swear to me. Not Historia, Ymir, or Sasha. Especially not Eren or Armin.”

“I swear.”

Annie looked at Mikasa before holding out her pinky to the other girl. Mikasa wrapped her own pinky finger around Annie’s.

Annie took a deep breath before speaking, “I’m pregnant.”

[sugarandspice-games]

Okay, so I finally got through Saeran's good ending, I might go back and play the normal and other bad endings later if I feel like it, but as that was an emotional rollercoaster, I need some time to recover. But I'm going to put my full review under the cut.

Will I be releasing my rewrite outline at this point (though not really a rewrite, since I made it before the AE was ever released when I was drunk and salty at the lack of news)? I'm not sure. I wasn't 100% satisfied, but we'll call it a good 65% as I feel like there was more I liked than I hated. I'll leave that decision up to my dear readers, whether or not they want to see it. (Though there are only like... 8 of you here and I know you're probably here for Obey Me content and not MysMess)

I do plan on playing the Jumin Bad End DLC, but I may not liveblog it as I haven't really heard good things. This seems like another ploy for fanservice, but I do want to get more lore about Jumin's backstory, and honestly... I'm gay and want to see those sexy CGs. That being said... this is the last I will discuss the canon material on this blog, and it may be the last time I engage with the canon material (as I believe cheritz has announced that this is the finale anyway, and will no longer update the game). I will most likely continue to create fan content for it, as Sugar and I have our own sort of... fanfic thing going on with the characters and our OCs. But this is a personal and huge special interest of mine, and rather than go through everything and pick it apart for the rest of my days... I want to leave the game and the characters I love so much with only my happiest memories. They'll live on in my heart.

But I digress... here is my semi-condensed review. Sugar may talk about it as well, though I do not speak for them. THIS SHOULDN'T NEED TO BE SAID BUT HERE THERE BE SPOILERS. DO NOT READ IF YOU DID NOT COMPLETE THE GOOD END OF RAY'S AE.

The Good:

Saeran. Saeran was the best thing about this route. His character development was beautiful, and every time I saw him, I felt my heart swell with pride and love. His new sprites are so adorable as well as his beautiful CGs, and he looks healthier and happier in a lot of them. He's grown to be such a loving, gorgeous, wonderful man despite everything that happened in his painful life, and his story is nothing short of inspirational. I have a lot of love for Saeran, I have from the moment I saw him but this route really drove it home for me. He will have a special place in my heart among my fictional loves that can never be replaced.

Jumin Jumin Jumin! Jumin was one of the absolute MVPs this route, he was doing the most and boy... I just want to hug him. Even though he was in horrendous pain he was doing the absolute best he could to help everyone. He's been a love of mine for a long time, and that love only grew in this route. I was also glad to meet Driver Kim and see the interaction between him and Daddy Han Sr. (Because obviously Juju is the junior Daddy Han lol)-- even though I have mixed feelings about the Chairman, it makes me happy to see Jumin getting the caring he deserves from his father. And the fact that he even turned his back to let Jumin express his emotions without feeling embarrassed... Fucking killed me.

They did Rika right this go around. Yes, she got off to a really rough start, but she was very human and bearable here... and complete with her realizing her wrongdoings and working to right them in the end. It was a gorgeous arc, I'm so happy for her. I have a love hate relationship with her character, as she used to be a very badly written villain IMO... but one of the good things about Another Story in general is that it gave her depth that she didn't have before. And if they wanted to redeem her, they 100% did it right here, even if she had a rough beginning and had to make mistakes to get to where she was. I thought it was very human. Good on you, cheritz.

Vanderwood got a lot of good interactions here, and I'm really happy they gave us more Van content. Even if we're not getting a route for him, it's enough to me to finally see him expressing the affection we all know that he holds for Saeyoung, and working to help him.

The twins finally get to be happy! Need I say more?

Everyone doing well in their lives made me really happy too... most of the other routes had this problem where if one person got to be happy, someone else would have to suffer in exchange. I'm so glad that everyone got a happy ending.

The new chats made me extra emotional... I'm not sure why, to be honest, I think I'm just happy to see everyone again. It had been such a long time since I played Mystic Messenger, and talking to everyone again just like old times felt like returning to a childhood home (though I was 19 when I discovered this game initially, haha). I cried a lot, which is extra weird for me since I don't tend to cry in general.

Yoosung loves Saeran soooo much... in fact, everyone does. It made me happy, bc I was initially worried that he wouldn't have made friends with the RFA or that it would be awkward, but seeing everyone loving him and him being sweet back to them was adorable. Jumin also loves him and you can't change my mind (though maybe that's my wishful thinking of being in a Jumin & Saeran sandwich talking...)

So many good messages in this AE, and they hit very personally. I came to the same realization last year, that in the end, nothing in life matters except love, since you can't take anything else with you when you die. I shan't elaborate more!

Everyone's voice acting was so good! It was so beautiful and emotional, I could feel it through their voices. I usually skip the voice lines since I read so fast, but I'm happy I didn't.

The Bad:

Oh Jihyun... what have they done to you? I know I said he wasn't OOC and I stand by that, but it really feels like the writers hated him this AE. Even his sprite looked so awful and blurry. And he didn't get any good realization that he deserved better or anything, the literal cult leader and prime fucking minister got to be redeemed when he didn't. What the actual fuck. Sugar will definitely have more to say about it, and probably in a more articulate way, but let it be known that I don't like it either.

Furthermore, even if it's not OOC, it's structurally sloppy for him to come to some realization only to stay the exact same as he's always been. And same with Rika too. As I said in a previous post, having them both go through these realizations only to make them the villains again really felt like beating a dead horse. What can I say except AAAAAAAAA. WHAT THE FUCK?

Again, I must reiterate... why'd they make it so you have to be a bitch to Rika to get the good ending? I get that it's probably wish fulfillment for some people in the fandom, but it isn't for me. I really don't have any desire to berate or insult her bc in the end she needs serious help (even if I wanted to throw hands with her sometimes), and if the point was to call her on her misbehavior... some of it went too far (looking @ the "Don't stab Saeran's eyes out!" choice. I didn't like that at all, especially since it felt like you were making fun of Jihyun's trauma.) It especially made the end of her arc fall flat when she's like "Thank you for being kind and trying to understand me..." like, gurl... the game didn't let me do that without making me bad end! Jeez.

Also, literally why was it necessary to redeem the prime minister? He's a monster who tried to murder his own children. It's okay if they needed that scene where Saeran and you tried to understand him, but having him actually come around made no sense... why would he want to listen to you or Saeran when we've seen time and time again that there isn't really any good in him? He's just not a good person. And no, I'm not saying this because I wanted him to die or anything! ...Okay, maybe I did. Fuck that guy. I hate him. (Also the whole "you're only this way because you're lonely!" was so corny, I didn't choose those options but gjkgkgkfk)

The Ugly:

Have y'all heard about how much I hate the agency Boss? I hate him so much... I want to drown him in the toilet. I want to feed him taco bell laced with laxatives. I want to-- anyway, I digress. Not classifying this under bad because cheritz did their job by making him hateable and oh boy, did I hate him. He made me want to barf. I also commend his voice actor for somehow making me feel greasy through the screen. Seriously, dude, hats off to you. You are a genius.

That's about all I have to say for now... you can peruse my talk tag if you want to see any of my other thoughts on this game, but they don't tie into the good and bad. Despite the flaws, I enjoyed myself this route and I'm happy I played it. Even though there will always be things to improve upon in this game... I'm happy I picked it up, and I'm happy I met everyone. I would write them all letters or something but that'd be kinda corny since they're just game characters and won't see it anyway, and I know I'm not the only nor am I the most attractive MC out there... so this is Spice, signing out! Byebye, Mystic Messenger. You'll always have a special place in my heart.

All of the... weird horniness between Rika and Saeran made me feel grossed out. Her having him in a collar with a leash, and the game options that insinuate she has a thing for him... ew ew ew. Please stop it. That shit is so disgusting and I'm going to puke.

@ Both Saeyoung and Saeran: stop fucking trying to die all the time! Seriously! Let me love you and want to save you, when will you get it through your thick skulls that one gay ass MC who loves you very very dearly would NEVER be happy if you died? AAAAAAAA

[rickssugarplum]

Father’s Day

This is purely a vent fic. This holiday is never fun for me. Anyone who has to deal with father’s day with a sadness in their hearts, I want you to know you are loved. I hope you can make today a good one for yourself. Thank you for reading. ❤

Rick C-137 x Female Reader) SFW, Father’s Day, Angst, Hurt/Comfort. TW: Emotional Abuse, Depression, 4,400+ Words

Father’s Day is hard to deal with every year. Rick is there to help you through it.

Your eyes opened to the brightness the sun provided, peering through your bedroom window. Your ears were serenaded by the morning chirp of the birds in the trees. Taking the time to stretch out your body, you slowly got up out of bed and looked out. The sky crystal blue with flowers of all kinds bloomed and painting the world view with its various colors. Taking a deep breath in and letting it out, you saw that it was a beautiful June day. You looked down at your phone. Every good possible thing about today came to a screeching halt when you looked at the date on your home screen.

Sunday, June 16

Father’s Day

You shuddered as those two words caused everything to collapse and fall on top of you. To some, it was a wonderful day to celebrate the patriarchs who have done so much for their children. For you, however, it was a painful reminder. It reminded you of your past, the childhood you lost, the many tears you have shed, the love you were denied, and the years you will never get back.

You immediately felt an ache in your heart. A feeling you couldn’t tell whether it was from emptiness, or if it was simply broken. You placed a hand on your chest, trying to soothe the pain, but you couldn’t fix the damage that had been done so long ago. Your throat started to become tight, your eyes were welling with tears. Your head was filling itself with painful words and phrases that were spat out by one you had once looked to for love and comfort. Hearing them again in your mind, made your knees buckle, bringing you to your floor. Now on your knees, you began to sob, just like you had many times as a child. You could still hear the angry, scolding voice telling you to grow the fuck up and stop crying. But you never did, you never could. And today, you wondered if you ever will.

Hugging yourself, you let out a wail of anguish, as you were brought back to that painful time, thinking you were unworthy of love. If your own father couldn’t love you, how the hell would anyone else? For years, you held out for hope that he would one day see the affects he had placed upon you. That he would one day come and hug you and tell you he was sorry for all the pain he had put on you, that you didn’t deserve any of it and that you were worthy of love and he would show you how he would be better for you because that’s what you deserved.

But, years went on, and it never happened. One night, it had been made clear, that he would never change and you would never know the love of a father you had sought. When you were old enough, you had left and never went back again...

But it seemed to have never left you. You’d been haunted in seemingly odd ways. At night, you would sometimes wake up screaming as he taunted you in your dreams. Certain songs you couldn’t listen to without taking you back, you made choices to avoid following in his footsteps, and now; the inevitable. Every third Sunday of June, you would always be reminded of what you never had and your reaction was always the same. 

You wanted to be alone, but at the same time you wanted to be wrapped up and given the love you were denied long ago. But you knew that couldn’t happen today. 

Immediately, your mind went to Rick, who knew a little about your history, but enough to know this holiday would be rough on you. However, he’d probably be too busy as he would be celebrated by his family, including his daughter. While yes, Rick wasn’t the best father, part of you somehow envied Beth. Sometimes, you wish your father had left. Looking back, it would have saved you a lot of pain. At least then you wouldn’t have to deal with nightmares of his words at night. Silence would’ve been much more peaceful...

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“Happy Father’s Day!” shouted the cheers of Morty and Summer. Jerry smiled from his seat at the dining table as he received hugs from them both. Meanwhile, Beth had been preparing a grand breakfast for both her husband and father of their two children, and she felt incredibly happy that she had her own father to celebrate with this year. She walked into the dining room with eggs, pancakes, and bacon, ready to eat. Going over to Rick, she kissed his cheek.

“Happy Father’s Day, Dad.” she exclaimed. Rick looked at his daughter with pride. “Thank you, sweetie. Man, you did a real great job on breakfast, Beth. C-c-can’t wait to dig in!” he declared with a smile. Beth’s smile went from ear to ear as she walked over to her husband, giving him a quick peck on his lips.

“Happy Father’s Day, Jerry.” She beamed. He smiled back at his wife, grinning wide as he soaked in the feeling of being back in their home. Everything was perfect. Well...almost.

To be blunt, tension was still thick in the air since his return to the house, to the dismay of Rick. Knowing that he had been the reason of the initial break-up a few months earlier. But now, it seemed like Beth was more sure of herself in what she wanted in her marriage and she was no longer afraid of her father leaving. Time will tell if that will last...

For now, Rick had to deal with Jerry back in the picture. Just as long as his buttons weren’t pushed, things would be fairly pleasant. He was stuffing his face with his daughter’s delicious pancakes, his grandkids celebrating a holiday made for greeting card companies to make an extra dime. Rick wasn’t foolish enough to pretend. He knew he was a bad father. Hell, he doesn’t consider himself a good grandfather. But he’d put up with today for their sake, They couldn’t help being so attached to these made up traditions. And plus, who could resist pancakes?

“So, what’s the plan for today, gang?” Jerry asked enthusiastic. Morty and Summer both looked at their Mom with pleasant smiles. Beth spoke up, sharing her kids’ happiness. “Well, since it is Father’s Day, I figured why not let the dads choose what we do!” she chirped.

Jerry spoke up immediately. “Well, I would like to go fishing today with my family today!” 

How simple. Jerry would find joy in going to a river five minutes away and catching some fish. Rick wasn’t keen to fishing, but he had anidea.

“There’s a place on planet Zxonculon where they have really good fish. We could travel there, no equipment required.” He stated flatly.

Beth’s eyes lit up. “Oh that’s great, Dad! We could have a little space trip too!” She exclaimed, so happy. This day was gonna be great.

“NO. I told you, Rick. I don’t want any science involved in our trips!”

Oh boy. 

“Jerry, I can guarantee that it would be much more exciting that catching some unlucky creatures that are swimming in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

The tension added on as Jerry’s brows furrowed and arms. “I am the man of the house and I said it’s out of the question!” he declared.

Rick stood up from his chair, hands flat on the table. “And I heard Beth say, that she wanted the dads to decide. Dads. As in both of us.” he explained, calm but firm.

“Beth, you would agree that science would not be good for this fathers’ day would you?” 

Beth smiled nervously. “Well, I think it would be good if we all enjoyed today, maybe we could meet somewhere in between!” she suggested. Morty and Summer looked on awkwardly, fearing the worst was yet to come.

“How brave of you, Jerry. Couldn’t come up with your own argument, so you try to use my daughter against me.”

“Dad...” 

“..should be lucky she considers herself your daughter...” Jerry muttered.

The sound of silverware clanks on the table. The children’s frowns prominent, while Beth sat, horrified. Everything was falling apart at the seams. Rick glared daggers into the other man’s eyes.

“And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he asks, coldly.

The two men looked at each other from across the table, challenging the other.

“C’mon tough guy.” Rick egged on. “We allll know what you wanna say. So just. say it.”

Jerry was not going to be intimidated. “You weren’t there for her as a father. You bitch at me for knocking her up. If I was such a horrible thing that happened to her, maybe you should have been there to stop it, but you weren’t. Were you, Rick?”

“JERRY!” Beth yelled out.

“Dad!” Shouted Summer.

“Aww jeez, Dad...” Morty muttered quietly. He couldn’t argue with him though. He was saying the truth.

Rick said nothing. He didn’t even flinch. Everything Jerry said was true. Sometimes he blamed himself for not being there. He could’ve possibly helped Beth with her self-esteem. But he couldn’t change the past. Not for anyone.

“I never said I was a good father, nor do I try to make myself out to be a good person. I know I’m not a good person. That’s why it was better for me to leave.”

Beth looked on, mouth agape as she listened to her father speak. Rick turned to her.

“Sweetie, can I talk to you alone?” Rick asked. Beth only nodded as she stood up from her chair. Jerry’s fist hit the table hard.

“No, NO! You will talk to me ab-”

“Shut up, Jerry!” Beth glared at her husband, who sunk back into his chair at her fiery gaze. She followed her father into the garage. Rick let out a long sigh.

“Beth, I know- I know this had all been really hard on you. I’m...sorry If what I did, made you feel you weren’t good enough, because you are.”

Beth’s throat tightened as her eyes started to water. She had struggled with the abandonment her whole life. No longer could she hold it in, and the tears started flowing down her face.

“Oh, sweetie...” Rick said as he walked to his daughter, embracing her as she needed. His fingers combed her honey-blonde hair, just trying to calm down his baby girl. He owed it to her.

“I love you, Dad...” she quietly cried out. Rick hushed her, trying to calm her down.

 “I know...I love you too, sweetie..”

They stayed like that for awhile. Beth had wanted everything to be perfect today, but it was just wishful thinking for her...She started to take deep breaths in her father’s arm and started to relax. “I’m sorry, Dad...”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” he stated. “I meant what I said out there.” Beth broke the embrace to look her father in his tired eyes. 

“I thought it was better for me to leave, to save you from anymore hurt I might have caused....” he confessed. Beth still couldn’t understand. “How can you ever think I was better off without you?” she asked, confused.

“Sometimes, it’s better for someone so toxic to be apart. Some people think all parents should be with their kids no matter what, even if they’re pieces of shit. And that can do a LOT more damage than not having that person there. You could be like.....” 

He stopped. 

“Like what?”

Not what. Who. His mind thought of another. Beth couldn’t have possibly known. But he started to realize that today would have been hell for someone else.... Running a hand through his hair, Rick knew he had to do something. He took his portal gun out of his lab coat.

“Don’t wait up for me. Jerry can go on his dumb fishing trip. Let Morty and Summer spend time with their Dad today..”

“Are you leaving?” Beth said, sounding defeated.

“I promise I’ll be back, sweetie. I have to be somewhere quick.” he stated as he shot a portal. He told his daughter he loved her one more time before walking into it. With the portal closed, Beth was left in the garage; alone.

       ◇─◇──◇────◇────◇────◇────◇────◇─────◇──◇─◇ 

You felt the world was spinning at a rapid speed. On the floor, you had been bawling as thousands of thoughts and memories flowed through your mind. The ache, knowing you were completely alone today, was all the more reason to just lie in your misery. Your heart sped up and it was getting harder to breathe.

Rick had arrived from your living room. Wondering where you were, he didn’t have to long. He heard your wails coming from your room.

“Shit.” Rick muttered to himself. He wasted no time getting up the stairs to reach you. The closer he got, the louder your cries. He opened the door, to see you on the ground in the fetal position, face red and wet with tears. Your mouth was wide open as your voice cracked in agony. You couldn’t hear him come in, with your weak screams, but his presence was known as soon as you felt one of his cold hands touch your shoulder.

“Baby...”

His voice was so soft, you were only used to screaming and scolding ones. His fingers brushed your hair back away from your face. Your eyes stinging, you tried to open them, but tears had still flowed. 

“R-R-R-Ri-ick...”

“Shhhh...It’s okay...Just try to breathe...” he instructed. Your body had been brought into a warm embrace, Rick holding you close to his chest protectively. The overwhelming feelings were all too much. You were suddenly being rocked as a parent would to their newborn baby. As a father would...

Your heart felt heavier at the love you sorely needed...but never got. A father’s love, was one that would forever be foreign to you. All of Rick’s science in the world, could never reverse that. You erupted a muffled scream in his chest, as you pleaded to no one...

“Please....D-don’t le-leave me-e-e” you weakly begged.

“I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart. You’re safe with me, okay?” he murmured in your ear.

“I-I-I’m s-s-s-sor-rr-ryyy.....” you croaked out, struggling to breathe in a steady pace.

“W-what are you sorry for?” he said, dumbfounded. There was nothing in his mind that you needed to apologize for. But there were hoards of reasons you thought of. For not being good enough. For not being perfect. For not being smart enough. Like Morty, you struggled with your grades. Your mind flashed back to a screaming man confronting you about not getting the perfect scores on your report card. You had always tried your best. But your best was a pathetic joke. Just like you.

“I-I-I...”

Rick didn’t know what was in your head, but he knew it had to have been hell. He waited for you to catch your breath.

“I-I-I’m a w-waste...” you meekly cried. Two hands grasped your face, making you look into his eyes. “HEY!” He shouted in your face. His furious tone frightened you to your core. You could smell the alcohol on his breath.

You were immediately brought back, where another man looked at you with such anger, drunkenness, and bitterness. He would pierce your little ears with hateful words and demands for respect... 

“NO! Please! I-I-’m sorry! Please.....” you pleaded, sobbing.

Rick eyes softened. He immediately regretted his loss of control as he saw your face contort into sheer panic. Your body was quaking as you begged for mercy. The sounds of your bawling had nearly broken his heart.

“I c-can’t t-t-take anymore...”

All your life, you had only been scolded, screamed, humiliated. You had never been good. You were never daddy’s good girl. Your chances had died before it could even be possible.

“I-I j-just w-w-wanted to be good...”

Rick was completely at a loss for words. But he tried to convey his thoughts through touch. Pulling you close to him again, he resumed to adorn you with soft caresses and placed soft kisses on your head.

“I never m-meant to be bad...I tried to be good...I tried.I tried.I tried...” you repeated.

The silence from Rick was no accident. He realized your demons were much more than he thought. He was no stranger to daddy issues, but bottled up ones, were never good to keep. He let you speak your peace. Whatever you needed to get out, was allowed now.

“But it-it wasn’t enough...I’m not enough...” you wept. 

In Rick’s mind, he wondered how anyone can treat their children so poorly, that they completely collapsed at the mere thought of them. He knew he left some damage in Beth, but he never tried to make her feel worthless or frightened by him. The fact that someone made you feel this way, let alone your own father, made his blood go cold. In the moment, he knew you needed the complete opposite of all you were afraid of, soft tone, kind words, and so much love...

"That is not true. You are not anything that piece of shit made you feel. I don’t give a fuck what he said. He didn’t know how good he had it.”

You listened to him. Here was the smartest man in the universe, a father himself, telling you this.

“I’m so sorry for what he put you through...I can’t imagine anyone wanting to hurt you...Whatever he told you to make you feel like you deserve this, he was completely wrong.”

Your shining eyes looked into his, wanting to see the words flow from his mouth. To prove you weren’t dreaming.

“I promise you, baby. You didn’t deserve any of it...”  

The way he said it. So sure, so certain. Everything you were told back then, completely disputed by the genius you loved so dearly. 

“I wish I could go back and take it all away from you, but I can’t...” With all his genius, time travel was still very difficult to perfect. You tried to stifle yourself for a moment so you wouldn’t miss a word of what he had to say.

“What I can do now, is show you how much you are loved, because that’s what you deserve.”

Your breathing patterns were starting to improve. Heavy gusts of air hit Rick’s chest, his shirt damp with your tears and snot. In and out, you kept telling yourself. Rick had noticed your efforts.

“Thaaat’s it baby...You’ve got it...” he encouraged you. His hand tenderly stroked your back, trying to soothe you. His gentle praise calmed you just a little more.

“Gooood girl...” he whispered as he pressed his lips to your forehead.

“I-I am?” you squeaked out. You couldn’t possibly believe that.

“Yes, you are. You are one of the kindest people I’ve ever known and incredibly brave.”

“But I didn’t face it...I just left....” you muttered.

“And that’s the smartest thing you could do. You had already faced it long enough.” he stated. “I’m no stranger to leaving things behind, b-believe me, but you knew that environment would do you no good if you stayed...” 

You were silent, unsure what to say...

“I’m proud of you, baby...” 

Your wet eyes went wide. Did...you hear that correctly? Rick gently grabbed your face with both hands, making you look up at him. “Look at me, baby...” 

In his eyes, they showed empathy, sincerity and...love. And not in a lustful way, a genuine look of pure, unconditional devotion. 

“I’m proud of you...” he repeated. His thumbs caressed your cheeks, wiping away tears that stained them. He leans to you, foreheads touching. 

“If there’s anything I can do to help or if you even need to talk, you come to me okay? I don’t give a fuck what time it is, what dimension or galaxy I’m in. I will come to you...” he softly declared.

Speechless, you simply nodded your head. You needed one thing right now.

“Please, just hold me..” you tiredly pleaded, falling into him. All you wanted was to feel safe. You felt his arms wrap around your frame.

“Of course, baby...” He resumed rocking you gently, trying to put you at ease. In his lap, you closed your eyes, letting yourself take in the comfort of his embrace. No one could get to you, as long as you were there...

Rick wanted you to feel comfortable, and while you were content, he figured it would be much better if you two were off the floor. “I-I wanna get you comfortable in the bed. Is that alright, babydoll?” he asked softly. You nodded and immediately were lifted up. It only took a few steps for him to gently lay you down on your soft mattress. He immediately joined you and held you close you, peppering your face with soft kisses. You hummed as you nestled in his chest.

For awhile, you both simple lied in silence. Only sounds you heard were breathing and his heartbeat. The only feeling was of his affection. The atmosphere was so serene. You were no longer alone. Rick’s gruff voice broke the silence.

“I-I know I never say this, b-but I think you need to hear it right now...”

You looked up at him, anticipating what it was. He leaned in close to your ear and whispered so delicately. 

“I love you...”

It felt like your breath was taken away. The rainbow had come shining through after the storm. Your dark gray world had been painted with color. The three words you’ve always wanted to hear...

Slowly, he leaned his face closer to you and press his lips to yours. You kissed him back, giving all you had to convey you appreciation. Suddenly, you felt his body roll on top of yours. Rick kept the kiss light and soft. He was attentive and patient, taking his sweet time with you. When you stopped to breathe, his lips gently brushed your cheek.

“I love you, angel...And I want you to see that so maybe...you can learn to love yourself...”

That would sure be a long road. You looked away from him for a moment. You didn’t want to tell him it wasn’t possible. 

“I-I-I know it’s a motherfucker, this pain you’re dealing with...It’s not a-a walk in the park...But you are not a lost cause...You’re a survivor, baby...” 

“Thank you, Rick...I love you, too...” you whispered. The day you always dread now had a silver lining this year. But it wasn’t without concern.

“W-why aren’t you with your daughter...?” you questioned.

Rick sighed. “Jerry was being a fucking idiot as always...I left and wanted to check on you...” 

You were not shocked. Of course. Rick always had trouble getting along with his son-in-law and you didn’t see that changing anytime soon. But it wasn’t about Jerry today...

“Beth needs you...” you simply stated. You felt you had no right taking someone else’s father away from them because of your own issues. Rick didn’t even appear to be conflicted. He was always low-key about his decisions, no matter how many light years away he would go.

“I want to take her to a stress-free planet, to give her the break she deserves. You could come with us. I don’t want you to be alone today...”

What other option did you have? It was that or cry alone in your house the rest of the day. No way would you make Rick stay away from his own daughter today.

“Okay.” you agreed with a shy smile. That plan sounded quite nice. He smiled back at you in relief. Things were appearing to come back together.

“Great.” He shot a portal. Standing up, he reached out his hand. You took it and he helped you up from the bed and into the portal.

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In the Smith’s kitchen, Beth was sitting at the now empty table, still riddled with dirty dishes from breakfast time. She sighed thinking of all that went wrong earlier. It was so unfair. All she wanted was a nice day with her father on this mundane holiday. Goddamn Jerry couldn’t keep his mouth shut for once. He was now on his coveted fishing trip with Morty and Summer. He got what he wanted, while she was alone without her father and now her children. She felt like the sad little girl all over again. But, she was too used to it to cry about it anymore. She told herself she was no longer afraid. Still, he told her he would come back...

A buzzing sound emitting from the garage made her lift her head up. He came back! Her thoughts immediately turned around. They could still have a great father’s day together. It didn’t matter where or what it was, as long as her father was there, that was all she wanted.

“Hey, sweetie.” He greeted as Beth got up from her chair, embracing him.tightly. He hugged her back, rubbing her back to show his affection.

“Hi, Dad!” She chirped happily. They broke the embrace, and Rick gave a proposition.

“Beth, I wanted to take you on a nice stress-free trip for the day. We’ll go off planet, we can do anything you want there!” he proposed.

She placed her hands together in glee. “Oh that sounds wonderful, Dad!” Her curiosity peaked however when she saw you over her old man’s shoulder. You had been keeping a distance, not wanting to interrupt the moment.

“Oh, hi there!” She sounded surprised, but not unpleasantly so. That had to be a good sign. You simply greeted her back with a tiny voice and a kind smile. “Hi, Beth.”    

“Beth, I wanted to bring her along cause...I just thought it would make her day better too...”

It was a little confusing to her. In her head she wondered why you would spend time with them and not with your own father. She got a good look at you and noticed your kind eyes were red, lashes appearing damp. Then it clicked. She looked at you with the empathy and understanding you were never met with. While she didn’t know the details, she knew what it was like to spend father’s day alone.

She would not let that happen to you if she could help it. And who knows? Maybe, you could become good friends.      

With a smile, Beth agreed. “The more the merrier! I think we all could use a getaway.” 

All three of you wore content faces. This year, you had something to look forward to. And in time, with love and support, your heart could mend....and you could learn to love yourself again. 

❤

[therainroguefanfiction]

🔥 ℝise Ⱥbove I̾t ◈ Chapter 032 [Insanity Loves Company]

📑 Table of Contents | ◂Backward

Word Count: 2,728

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

〈“A knife in my heart couldn’t slow me down, my fire never goes out. I rise from my scars, nothing hurts me now. ‘Cause power is power, now watch me burn it down.” SZA, The Weekend & Travis Scott, “Power is Power”〉

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

“Oi.”

“Go away, I’m trying to fucking sleep.”

“Oiii~” Smack.

I shot up, glaring at the spikey chihuahua standing next to me, my hand on my stinging cheek. “What the fuck did you hit me for, Bakuhoe?!”

“Your next match is starting soon,” his vermilion eyes narrowed. “Your dumbass didn’t even watch the competition.”

“What’s life without a little surprise?” I hummed, stretching my arms above my head, my back cracking. Man, they really need to get some better fucking beds for the injured. This shit feels like a piece of springy cardboard. “Who am I fighting?”

He shrugged. “Some extra from class B.”

“That’s maddeningly unhelpful, mate.” I slid off the bed, pulling my boots on. “I’m leaving, Gran!”

She stepped away from Reggian and smiled. “Do your best, deary.”

I nodded, stepping out of the temporary nurse’s office and taking off toward the arena. I stopped just before the beam of light that peered into the dark hallway, waiting for Mic to call me out.

“You better not lose,” Bakugo grunted. “Only I’m allowed to beat your ass, got it?”

“So I’ve heard,” I chuckled, holding my fist up. “Top two, aye? You better be careful, bro. I might just take first place out from under you.”

He smirked, smacking his fist against mine. “Bring it on, you bitch!”

“Returning for battle number five, she heated up the competition in the first match, it’s class A’s Winchester!!”

I took a deep breath and stepped out into the light, heading for the arena. Dealing with all these eyes on me ain’t getting easier the second time around. The eyes, the eyes~! I snickered.

“Versus! He softened up the competition in the second match, it’s class B’s Honenuki!!”

Skeletor stepped out from across the arena, his shoulders slightly slumped. “What kind of lame introduction is that?”

I raised a brow at him. That was some kind of hint for his quirk, right? “Mic tries to be original, but most of the time his comments are just lame.”

He smiled but said nothing in return.

“Ready?! … BEGIN!!”

In a flash, his foot slid forward and the ground started to soften beneath me, my legs sinking into it. Is this… quicksand? Jeez, this guy’s gonna be a pain in the ass, ain’t he? After getting some rest, I should be able to teleport a few more times, at least, plus it’s not that far so it shouldn’t take much power. I focused on the strip of solid ground behind him and I teleported.

He turned his head and my flaming fist connected with his cheek, making him stumble backward. He lost his footing and fell into the softened ground, but he didn’t slowly sink like I had, he fell through it like it was water. A bead of sweat rolled down my cheek as I waited with bated breath.

“Winchester has pushed Honenuki into the softened ground he created trying to trap her!”

Oi oi, he ain’t surfacing bro. What if he can’t? What if he’s unconscious? He’s gonna fucking drown in that shit. If his quirk deactivates, it’ll harden again, right? Fuck. I groaned loudly, my mind protesting what I was about to do, but I knew I had to. Taking a deep breath, I stepped forward into the softened earth, forcing my body threw the substance toward the spot he had landed. It felt like I was trying to walk through four feet of snow mixed with Elmer’s glue.

“Is she crazy?! Winchester just willingly stepped into the softened earth created by her opponent! Just what is going through her head right now, folks?!”

Fingers curled around my ankle and yanked me down hard. I just barely managed to suck in some air before my head was submerged, my body falling deep beneath the surface, which shimmered as it reflected the sunlight beaming down on me. It was like I was underwater, but the water was thick and had murky. I squeezed my eyes shut as they started to burn. I tried to move my body but it feels so heavy, like the world is crushing down on top of me.

How long can I hold my breath again? Thirty seconds, maybe? Forty if I push myself, I guess. How the fuck do I get out of this mess? Damn it… if I lose here, will Toshi be disappointed? What about Aizawa? And Snipe, even? Have I given it my best shot? No… I don’t want to lose here. I want to show Toshi and Zawa how much I’ve grown since they first met me! I want to show them that their time wasn’t wasted on me!

“Your determination is finally starting to awaken… little Winchester.”

Ugh, this fucking guy again. Get the fuck out of my head, you bastard, I don’t have time for another hallucination!

“I assure you, I am no hallucination.”

Yeah, sure, that’s what they always say. Fuck off, I’m busy.

He chuckled and I felt warm hands on my shoulders. “Your strength and control have risen since we last talked. I am impressed by your progress thus far. However, you still must find your resolve. Search hard, little Winchester, so that I may finally meet you in person.”

My resolve, huh… What is it I want from this life? Fame? Fortune? Sounds like a pain in the ass to me. I want… to repay the kindness that Toshi has shown me, the warmth he’s given me from the moment he met me. I want him and Zawa to look at me and smile, not of worry, but of pride. I want to get stronger, so I can make them proud, so I can protect Izuku and Todoroki, and Bakugo and the rest of those idiots in my class.

Except for Mineta. He can go choke on a dick and die.

“Onodero grows closer by the day. Only a Winchester has the power to stop his return.”

The pendant against my chest lit up in the darkness, the soft white glow shining through my shirt. It was warm. The warmth spread throughout my entire body, flames forcing their way to my skin. They started out as just small embers, pushing and shoving at the earth around me that did its best to suppress them. They steadily grew, encasing my body like a warm blanket.

“Use the power you were given to chase after what you believe is right. Never lose heart, little Winchester, for I am with you always.” A warm hand enveloped mine and I felt a wave of serene calm come over my mind.

I don’t know who the fuck you are or what you want, but I won’t fucking lose here! The calm faded as my blood boiled, my skin turning red as the flames pushed away from my body, spreading out until the entire pool of softened earth was boiling. I focused on my feet, using my fire to propel me forward toward the surface. My head broke through and I desperately gasped for air, coughing and wheezing as I tried to grab onto something solid.

“After one excruciating minute, Winchester has broken through the surface of Honenuki’s softened earth prison! Incredible!!”

My eyes stung from the dirt and concrete, my lungs burning angrily at being deprived of oxygen for so long. I forced my eye open, ignoring the tears that blurred my vision. He took a defensive stance, his eyes narrowed. I teleported in front of him, close lining his neck with my forearm, using all of my strength to push him backward. His feet dug into the ground, softening it to stop him just before he fell out of bounds.

I growled angrily, flames rising up from the softened earth behind me, swirling and morphing until they formed a phoenix. I thrust my hand forward and it released a high pitch caw before flapping its wings and dive-bombing. It hit him in the stomach, picking him up off the ground as it propelled him toward the wall. Inches before hitting it, the fire pulled back, curving upward and doing a loop before returning to me, flying in a circle above me.

I leaned over, my hands on my knees as I breathed heavily, unable to keep my eyes open. The phoenix cawed again before the flames slowly died out until embers floated across the breeze.

“Honenuki is out of bounds! Winchester advances to the next round!”

I fell to my knees, hanging my head. There’s no way in hell that was just another hallucination. It was fucking real, but what is it? He mentioned that fucking name again… Ono something? Seriously, what the fuck even is my life? I groaned, letting my body fall against the cold cement. It feels fucking amazing. I wonder how mad Todoroki would be if I hugged him and asked to be made into a popsicle.

“Winchester finishes off her second battle with a beautiful display of a phoenix! How cool is that?!”

“Are you alright, Jen?” Midnight kneeled beside me, her voice soft as her warm hand rested on my back.

I held my thumb up and grunted. “Can’t see, but I feel fucking fantastic.”

She sighed. “Honenuki, would you help her to the nurse’s office?”

“Yes, ma’am! Can you stand?”

I grunted again, pushing myself up. He grabbed my arm to steady me before wrapping it around his own.

“Careful of the steps,” he said just as my foot slipped.

“Maybe some warning before we get there next time, bro.”

He chuckled. “Sorry.”

I felt the warmth leave my skin and I assume we stepped into the hallway out of the light, our footsteps echoing down the corridor. The sound of the crowd faded as we walked farther.

“You’re pretty strong,” he commented. “I thought for sure I had you beat when you fell in! You must be pretty clumsy.”

I didn’t fall in, I jumped in, idiot. I didn’t know your fucking ass could swim through the shit. “Totally,” I heard a door slide open.

“Oh my, what happened this time?” Came Gran’s voice.

“I can’t fucking see,” I muttered. “And this one could probably use a kiss or two, too.”

“Of course, of course. Have a seat, my dears, I’ll fix you both right up!” I was led farther into the room and I felt hands gently push me down, my ass landing on the cardboard mattress. “Gimme some sugar~ Mwah~ Mwah~” She kissed him and then kissed me.

I felt my energy drain and I groaned, falling back and slowly opening my eyes, squinting against the white fluorescents above me.

“Thank you, Recovery Girl.” Honenuki bowed before turning to me. He looked disappointed, but smiled nonetheless. “Good luck in your next match.”

“Yeah, thanks.” I watched him leave before shifting so I was laying on the bed properly. Gran hummed a tune as she went back to her desk. The sound of a curtain being pushed aside made me glance across the room, meeting the pink eyes of Reggian.

He was laying at the foot of the bed, his feet tucked under his pillow as he played around on his phone. “Did ya lose, nerd?”

“No, I won.”

“Whack,” he propped his cheek against his hand, scrolling through his phone. “You look like you lost.”

I scoffed, throwing my arm over my eyes. “I didn’t fucking lose, you twat. I always look like this. It’s called resting bitch face.”

“Are you sure? Because your face looks like your mother was a piece of moldy bread that neglected you.”

“Oi, you were dropped on your head as a kid, weren’t you?”

“No, but I did, however, jump into a wall when I was three.”

“That explains a lot.”

“Rude.”

“Shut up, I’m trying to get my beauty sleep.”

“You’re gonna need a lot more than sleep to be beautiful.”

I threw my pillow at him and he laughed.

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

“Thank you, Recovery Girl, for healing my wounds~” Reggian bowed to her before turning to me. “Thank you, Winchester, for being the test subject on my new special moves!”

I scoffed. “You’re not fucking welcome.”

“I’ll have you know, you didn’t kill Pablo. He retired and is living happily with his sister, Clarissa the Cactus.”

“You killed his son.”

“How fucking dare you,” he huffed, putting his hand on his hip. “You better not lose and make me look bad, Winchester!”

“You don’t need my help to look bad, bro.”

“I will rip your lips off and sew them to your forehead like horns.”

“Dope, then I never have to speak again. Do you know how much fucking energy talking takes?”

We stared at each other for a solid minute before we both started to laugh.

Gran shook her head. “Kids these days.”

“Later nerd.”

“Later thot.”

Reggian opened the door and ran face-first into Izuku, their foreheads slapping against each other before they stumbled back. I laughed, “Dumbass!”

He glared at me before apologizing and leaving the room. Izuku stepped inside, clutching his left hand, two fingers swollen and badly bruised. Gran said nothing to him as she waved him over, healing the broken fingers before wrapping them in. “That should do it.”

The door slid open again, Toshi stepping inside before closing it behind him. Izuku gave him a nervous smile before speaking up. “That match with Shinso… I couldn’t smile through it like you would.”

Toshi sighed, rubbing his neck as he leaned against Gran’s desk. “I heard some of the things he said to you. It must’ve been painful knowing how much you could relate to him.”

“Yeah… but I still couldn’t go easy on him. I have to keep my eye on the prize, aiming for the top! Just like you said.”

“Oh, you poor little darling.” Gran sighed before turning to Toshi, annoyance clear in her voice. “Have you been putting too much pressure on him again!?” She slammed her arm backward, connecting it with his right side. He grunted in pain.

I grinned, moving to sit beside Izuku. “Gran is pretty hardcore. I love it.”

“Y-Yeah…” He nodded, eyes wide.

“It was necessary and that hurt!” Toshi responded, his voice gruff as his thin body shook.

“Oh yeah, All Might.” Izuku leaned forward, catching everyone’s attention again. “I had… some of vision in the match. There were… people. Maybe eight or nine of them? I’m not sure. When I was under Shinso’s control, it felt like my brain was full of fog or something, but when the vision appeared, it completely drove the fog away. That’s what I was finally able to move for a second – just my fingertips. One of the figures had eyes just like yours, All Might. Do you think… all the people that used One for All in the past were there pushing me on? Like spirits?”

“Spooky,” Toshi’s body was shaking, his face drained of color. “I’m a ghost?!”

“Ah! I thought you’d have answers!” Izuku cried.

I looked away, resting my cheek against my palm. At least I’m not the only one whose sanity is fucking slipping. Misery does love its company after all.

“Actually… I saw something like that, too, in my younger days.” Toshi responded. “That’s a clear sign that you’re getting closer to making One for All your own power.”

“But what was it?”

“I think it’s like a trace of the user’s spirit that’s left behind in One for All when it’s passed on. Don’t worry, whatever you saw, it won’t be interfering with you or your progress in the future, I’m sure.” He answered, folding his arms. “In other words, the vision wasn’t what god rid of the brainwashing effects. Regardless of what you saw out there, it was your passion that allowed you to overcome Shinso’s power. Even if it was only long enough for you to wiggle your fingertips and expel some energy.”

Izuku’s face fell. “Man, that explanation is so not satisfying.”

“Forget about it!” Toshi cried. “More importantly, shouldn’t you be worrying about who you’re fighting next?”

“You’re right! Thank you both very much!” Izuku bowed before rushing from the room.

“You’re welcome!” Gran chirped, smiling happily.

“Well, if we’re confessing to our lapses of sanity,” I sat up straight, gaining both of their attention. “Izuku is seein’ shit, and I’m hearin’ it.”

The two exchanged a worried look.

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

▸ Forward

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[migleefulmoments]

I feel like we should go back and find their comments on how gorgeous Darren looked when he wore that "puke green" jacket. I'm sure they're out there somewhere. Funny how it's suddenly hideous bc Mia is wearing it.

I actually thought the same thing so when you wrote this I did go check Abby’s and Mleigh69′s blogs and nothing.  No comments about his clothing at all. There were lots of the generic “he looks so sad...my heart is breaking” nonsense and this from Abby.  

So I made a promise to myself recently to keep my blog focused on happy things and reasons why I believe in CrissColfer.  

But today my heart is breaking and I needed to say something on the off chance that anybody that matters or has control might be listening.  Because I feel like I am watching one of the people I admire most in the world being stripped of his soul and I don’t know how much longer I can continue to watch this train wreck. (wash-rinse-repeat)  Before I go on, I realize I care way too much about a person I have literally spoken to twice, for maybe, if I include the conversation he had with my friend, 5 minutes in total.  But I do. And the reason I care is that Darren has provided me with so much entertainment over the past 5 years and has continued to blow we away with his talent and truly believe, if allowed, the places he will go are limitless. (Oh, well as long as you think he’s limitless than please, speak up, bitch about what you don’t like about his life.  He’s listening)  And when I feel like his talent has been sidelined and his value as a commodity has become more important, not to mention getting press and PR for his beard, a person whose name would not be known if not for him, I become enraged. So since I woke up at 3 AM  (She’s been waking up and checking tumblr since 2015) and made the mistake of checking Tumblr to see if he appeared, I have felt sad and angry.  And no this anger is not directed at Darren, I still support him 100% and cannot imagine what it must be like to live his life, it is directed at the people controlling his life and playing games with it. (It’s never directed at Darren. She hates everything he does but it’s never his fault.) 

And I want to say to the powers that be, that my voice matters and that I support him regardless of his sexuality.  I buy tickets, I saw How to Succeed, A Starkid Show (where literally I was the oldest person without a child), Listen Up (2x), Hedwig (2x), Elsie, Gross Indecency and  I have tickets to the Alan Cumming Show in February.  Not to mention I have seen every episode of Glee despite the fact that it suffered so much creatively and forced myself to watch AHS to support him.  So my voice should be heard just as loud and clear as the hand full of people who will not accept him for anything but straight. (Darren’s life is a choose-your-adventure game and fans get a say.  also Abby watched all of glee AND AHS so she gets extra credit).  

And last night was a complete and utter failure First, there was NO purpose for him being there (He attended a fundraiser...there was plenty of purpose for him being there)  He was not an announced performer or presenter (People actually attend to give their support and money-I know, shocking).  Therefore the sole purpose was to place him on a red carpet and once again, remind us that he has a girlfriend (UGH).  

And then there was the interview, which could have been worse, but it certainly wasn’t good. Trevor is about youth advocacy, agreed, but about LGBT+ youth and I know Darren knows that and to diminish that is to take something away from the cause.  And I know Darren is passionate about this cause.  But I am certain he was briefed before the event on how to answer questions and to steer any conversation away that may even hint that he is anything but straight (which I believe completely, the evidence is there based on his words and actions).(What kind of weird dystopian world exists in your head Abby? Who in the world would “brief him” on what to say at an event? He’s a grown man..he decides what he wants to say). 

But what is bothering me so much isn’t the charade.  If I truly believed that this was what Darren wanted and needed and that it was good for his career, I would keep my mouth shut. B/c he is a 28 year man, and while I may not agree, he is entitled to make the decisions that he feels are best for himself and his career. (But what could he possible do to convince you? There is nothing because you rewrite, belittle, and deconstruct everything he does say to prove you wrong).

But instead, what we are watching is an utter and complete train wreck.   We are watching a man, who has not had a project of value to focus on in over 2 months, being paraded from event to event.  His eyes are utterly and completely lifeless and void.  His smile has become so fake and sad.  I don’t see how anyone who is watching this does not see how he is being destroyed.  And yes, I know he has a private life, and I am thankful for that, but no matter how amazing that may be (and I agree with many who have said this over the past 12 hours, this is NOT about shipping) he is literally at an event 5 or 6 nights a week, pretending to be a person he is not, generally accompanied by a person I can tell he is not comfortable with.  

So to me, last night, was a loss.  The only thing that was accomplished is that once again, fans that are invested and truly care about him, have been isolated.  (always about Abby.  The event was a Trevor Live fundraiser- it wasn’t a loss).

And I do ask the question, why?  I do believe the Darren we saw during Hedwig, was the true Darren as much as he can be while maintaining a public persona (including PR and bearding).  This was a man thriving, who prouldy wore nail polish,  was not afraid to participate in Pride and wear a sticker that said “God Mad Me Perfect” and to make the Col-Fur joke on a nightly basis.  

I have to wonder if he was sent to Italy for7 weeks to distance himself from the Hedwig Darren to the Darren PR thinks they need to make money.  B/c since his return, the bearding and the PR Darren has been non-stop and it is painful to watch.  And it needs to stop.

Darren, I know you troll Tumblr and I know you read these things, I really hope you know that there are so many people who support and love and accept you. And maybe Hollywood is not the place for you right now, but I now Broadway would embrace you with open arms.  And yes, I understand there is a contract.  And I am not asking for you to reveal the truth or do anything that would be harmful or interfere with your personal life and relationships (regardless of who they are with). But there has to be a way that you can comply with the terms and conditions of that contract without causing serious damage to your mental health.

So I say, Bravo Ricky, Bravo PR, Bravo Fox, Bravo Ryan and Bravo Mia.  I hope you are all happy that you are contributing to what I see as the destruction of an incredibly talented, beautiful soul.

Off my soap box, done with my rant, I will try to go back to keeping my blog drama free, but this needed to be said.

[frombeginingtoend]

Program and Control - Stefan Butler

Summary: Graphic artist (y/n)(l/n) has worked on numerous games with Colin Ritman. When Stefan comes in to present Bandersnatch, (y/n) helps him complete the less story oriented parts of his game.

Notes/Warnings: slow burn-ish, language

Word Count: 3k

---

July 9th, 1984

Your alarm screeched, jolting you from a peaceful slumber. A heavy groan left your chest as you realized you needed to work. You were exhausted, and you wanted an extra ten minutes that you could rarely indulge in.

Sleep In | Get Up

You clicked the snooze button, eyes slipping closed and allowing those prized extra minutes. However, all good things must come to an end. In this case, a very loud end.

You took a deep breath as you sat up, massaging the back of your neck. You were not ready to go into work. Mainly you just didn't want to deal with Mohan, but what must be done, must be done.

Still bleary-eyed, you searched through the closet for something that matched.

A dissatisfied sneer crossed your face when you looked at your reflection. "Yeah, that's about as good as it's gonna get." A small smiled pulled at the edges of your chapped lips as you adjusted your dad's old bomber jacket. You looked back at the clock to realize half an hour had already passed. "Shit!" If you didn't hurry you'd miss the bus.

You slammed into the walls on your way out, hopping into your shoes as you left the house. Luckily they didn't have laces, and you could run without much difficulty. You got to the bus stop without breaking anything or twisting your ankle, which was surprising based on your clumsy history with those very shoes.

Entering TuckerSoft drained every stray remnant of adrenaline in your blood.

"Hey, Colleen," you called, waving at the receptionist. She said hi back, an undertone of distaste in her voice. You have no clue why she didn't like you, but she seemed to have decided that by the first time you met.

You flopped into your chair as quickly as you could, not wanting to be on your feet anymore.

"You're late," Colin commented, keeping his eyes on his screen, probably scrutinizing his code, trying to weed out a flaw. "And who, exactly, are you trying to impress with that number?" He peered around his computer, looking at you over the rims of his glasses.

You looked at the button down and tight slacks you picked out this morning. "Am I not allowed to dress nicely for myself?"

"I'll never understand you," Colin murmured under his breath as he turned back to his code, to which you rolled your eyes and smirked.

While getting your supplies from your desk to continue the mock-ups for the game Colin was working on, you heard your names being mentioned. Across the room was Mohan and a young looking man who fidgeted when he looked over at you.

You smiled and waved before turning back to your work.

"Looks like you've got a fan," you casually mentioned to Colin. You put on your headphones and played a cassette, drowning out the noises of everyone around you.

A tap on your shoulder made you jerk, scratching a line of graphite across your current project. You slid the headphones off with a heavy sigh. "What is it, Ritman?"

"You coming with?"

"No, I'm- I need to get this done." You gestured to the concepts for his newest game. "Fill me in if he gets the job. I'll probably be forced to work on his game."

"Will do." Colin pat you on the back before following the other two into the conference room.

You watched as the group of three walked into the conference room. The kid paused for a moment, looking in your direction. You waved once more, shot him a double thumbs up, and mouthed good luck.

His chest rose with a heavy breath before he nodded and continued through the doors.

Maybe twenty minutes passed before the three men exited the conference room.

"(Y/n)," Mohan called, "I'm sure you'll be glad to know we're picking up Stefan's game! You'll head the art department on it."

"Head it?"

"Well, if we get any other artists on it, yeah, but you're in charge. Just follow Stefan's lead."

You were left nodding like a broken animatronic from It's A Small World, knowing that you shouldn't have expected anything more from Mohan Thakur.

The next few months felt like a blur. You felt as if everything was going more and more downhill as the project progressed. You worried not only for yourself, but for Stefan as well, whom you ended up building a bond with.

He started inviting you over after work, but it tended to revolve around the game rather than personal matters. You wouldn't be opposed to admitting you had a crush on him. He had divulged his thoughts to you on many occasions. You even helped him remember to take his medication. After spending months together, it felt natural to connect like that.

But that was just one part of it.

All the heads working on Bandersnatch made the game feel like more of a clusterfuck than a branching story. You ended up making thirty different final images for it. All of them were shot down by the team until the last one, which you hated.

When the review came out, you waited anxiously with Stefan for at least some good response. However, that's not what happened. The coconut-headed son of a bitch gave the game two and a half stars.

You squeezed Stefan's hand, hoping to keep him calm.

"I need to try again."

"Stefan, what do you-"

"I need to try again."

He stormed off to his bedroom, leaving you in the living room with his dad.

July 9th, 1984

Your alarm screeched, and a pit grew in your stomach. Something felt off today. You'd had this feeling before, and for some reason the whole day felt like it had already passed.

Sleep In | Get Up

You were exhausted, and you wanted an extra ten minutes that you could rarely indulge in, but a pit in your stomach urged you to get up.

You took a deep breath as you sat up, massaging the back of your neck. You were not ready to go into work. Mainly, you just didn't want to deal with Mohan, but what must be done, must be done.

Still bleary-eyed, you searched the closet for something that matched.

Giving the outfit a once over in the mirror, you yawned. "That's 'bout as good as it's gonna get." You pulled at the edges of the bomber jacket, reminded of your late father. A reminiscent smile pulled at the corners of your lips.

You didn't need to rush this morning, so you decided to walk to work. Normally you waited for the bus, which got you there only two minutes before you were supposed to be, but you could likely walk there and be earlier. As a matter of fact, you were even able to stop and get coffee.

You entered the building without much of a care. You enjoyed your job, but work is work. Really, you didn't want to deal with Mohan's demands. Every once in a while it seemed he forgot that you were an artist and not an assistant.

You got into the elevator, deciding the normal route up the stairs would be too long for you to handle the hot cups in your hands. As the doors close you hear someone shout, "Wait, hold the door!"

Hold the Elevator | Let the Doors Close

Your foot shot out without you having to think about it. The sensor stopped the doors half way through their journey and pushed them back.

"Thank you," the young man said, shifting his backpack and staring at the ground. You smiled when you realized who this might be.

"Are you Stefan? Stefan Butler?"

His head shot up, mop of curly hair bouncing. "Uh, yeah. How do- how do you know me?"

"Right, sorry. I'm (y/n). I work at TuckerSoft. I design concept and promotional art. Mister Thakur told me you'd be in to demo." You rose both your coffee laden hands. "I'd shake your hand, but..." you nodded to the coffee, and he smiled, a little blush creeping to his cheeks.

"You did the art for Metl Hedd, right?" he asked.

"Yeah. Yeah, I did." Your chest swelled with pride at his acknowledgment. No one seemed to care about your role in the games the great Colin Ritman created.

"Hey hey! You must be, uhh, Steven." Mohan called when the elevator doors opened.

"Stefan," you corrected, passing both men to get to your desk.

"It's alright, really. I get it all the time," you heard Stefan assure.

"Colin," you sat on his desk, "I have a gift." He looked away from his monitor, raising his eyebrows. He didn't say anything, just left it open for you to speak. "Coffee: black, three sugars."

"Wonderful, thank you, (y/n)." He turned back to his game, coffee already pressed to his lips. "You look nice today," he commented offhandedly.

"Since when do you care about what I look like?" you questioned with a chuckle.

"Since I realized you care."

You were taken by surprise. You never took Colin for the type of guy to care very deeply for people, but then again, he had Kitty and Pearl. He kept them out of the limelight, safe, treasured them, and made sure they both knew how much he cared about them. You supposed, maybe, he could care about his desk partner and friend like a sibling.

"Colin! I'd like you to meet Stefan..." Mohan looked at the aforementioned boy for his last name, which was murmured for him to repeat. "Butler."

Colin offered the two to look at what he was working on: Nohzdyve, but seconds into the demonstration, it crashed.

"What was that?" Mohan asked.

"Eyeball sprites overshot the video memory," Stefan quickly answered.

"How did you know that?" Colin gave Stefan, who merely shrugged, a suspicious glance.

"Anyway, you have a game for us. Let's go." Mohan lead the men to the conference room. Colin stopped before closing the door, gesturing for you to come with. You gestured to the graphite drawings, but Colin gave you a disapproving look. You hustled to get there, recieving a pat on the shoulder when you passed Colin.

Stefan gave a short demo, very compelling and interesting. A choose your own adventure with given choices that interwove to create one massive story. Just like the original book.

"Don't worship him," you bartered. "He's the thief of destiny."

"You've read Jerome F. Davies?"

"Of course, he was a genius." You shared a smile.

"Didn't he go bonkers and cut his wife's head off?" Mohan asked.

"People do tend to focus on that, yes," Colin replied. However, Mohan didn't seem to care as he snatched the controller out of Stefan's hands and selected an option. The screen went blank.

"What's with that?"

"Well, I haven't programmed that path yet."

"So there's gonna be multiple paths?" Mohan asked.

"It's... going to be like the book." Stefan almost seemed confused as to how oblivious Thakur appeared.

"Amazing. When can you start?"

"You... you mean you're interested?"

"Yeah! Write it here! We can put together a small team just for you, and if course Colin will be here. What do you say?"

Stefan was silent, a huge smile across his face as he took in the offer. "No," he said cheerily. "I mean yes. I mean..." he took a deep breath, "I just think that I need to work on it alone, y'know. It's just, I've got it all in my head, and I feel like, if I have more people working on it, it'll get all... stressy."

Mohan looked irritated, but understanding. He'd worked with Colin long enough to understand a creative genius doesn't bode well in groups. He accepted the offer with the exception that it be finished by November eighteenth.

Before you were able to leave the conference room, Mister Thakur stopped you.

"I want you working on the artwork for Bandersnatch. Are you up for the job?"

You really didn't want to take on the additional game, but you knew it would mean a raise, and you did feel some strange form of obligation to Stefan. Still, the work load of two games- working with two separate minds- was going to be a heavy burden. You wanted to decline the offer but

Accept | Decline

You couldn't. "Of course, Mister Thakur."

November, 1984

You stared at the pages of drawings. Tears stung your eyes, throat tight, and screams being swallowed by your stubbornness. Your jaw ached from grinding it together so much, and your hands cramped from their hours of exercise. The next stroke on the paper broke the graphite tip of a freshly sharpened pencil.

You threw it down onto the desk, head falling into your hands. Tears finally slipped between your tightly clenched eyelids. Hair tugged against your scalp, pulled by your fists. No feelings other than anger pulsed through your veins.

Yell | Break Something

A guttural growl left your throat as you bolted to your feet. The backs of your knees collided with the chair, sending it tumbling to the ground with a loud clatter. Chest heaving,

It didn't take long for you to gather your things and head to Stefan's. He told you his address in case you ever needed to stop by for consultation with the artwork.

You would admit that showing up at his door in the middle of the night made you feel a bit awkward. You'd been here a few times before, for the original consultation for the cover work and other times to give him company. He showed you some of the sketches he made himself as well as the sprites and art from Davies himself.

Each time you came over, sitting in his living room, at the kitchen table, or on his bed, you found yourself growing more and more attached. Standing in front of the red door now was making you nervous. You had never showed up uninvited before.

You knocked, hoping he wasn't in the bathroom or so into what he was doing that he couldn't hear you.

When the door swung open, it wasn't Stefan.

"I'm sorry. Is Stetan Butler here?"

"Yeah, I'm his dad. Do you need me to get him for you?" Stefan's father asked, gesturing an extended thumb behind him.

"Actually, would I be able to come in? I have a few questions about his game that could help me finish the art."

"So, you're the artist he's always going on about! Come in, come in. Stefan's room is upstairs. I'll show you."

"Oh! Actually, I-I know where it is, but thank you."

You made your way up the stairs, quiet and very conscious of Stefan's father watching you with incredulous eyes.

His door opened with a soft creak, alerting him but not giving him a reason to turn around.

"I don't need any tea, dad."

"Good, I didn't bring any." You took a seat at the end of his bed.

Stefan could have broken his neck with the speed his head spun to face you. "(Y/n)! What are you doing here?"

"I was in the neighborhood. Figured I'd stop in to check on you, and," you gestured to the scattered papers and his disheveled state, "it looks like you've been at it for a while, Stefan. Maybe you should take a break."

"No, I-I need to finish this last bit. I have to finish this route."

"That route's gonna turn into three, then five, then eight. You need a break. Just for tonight. Get some sleep. I'll stay here, make you breakfast in the morning." You stood from his bed, your arms wrapped around yourself. Stefan's gaze fell to the keyboard as he took deep breaths. Was he trying to calm himself down?

"Why are you doing this?" His eyes, like his hands, clenched shut. "Why won't you just leave me alone and let me work?"

Reason | Let Him Work

"Because I'm worried, Stefan. We may have only met a few months ago, but I care about you. I'm scared that if I don't force you to stop, you're going to run yourself into the ground."

"I have to! If I don't spend all my time on this it will never get done, and then we wont be able to release it. I'll have wasted all of this time with noth-"

"Stefan, look at me." He kept rambling. "Stefan." You turned his chair toward you, one hand above his shoulder, the other on the arm of the chair. Your faces were now mere inches apart. That jittery feeling in your chest came back as you met his green gaze. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed down his nerves.

Your view drifted from his large pupils to his pink lips, warm breath ghosting his skin. After a slight hitch in your breath, you leaned in to capture his lips with your own.

His hands hovered over your hips before settling and roaming your back. Subconsciously, your own hands migrated to his jaw, and your legs situated on either side of his. You tugged on the dark curls at the base of Stefan's skull, eliciting a groan. His lips followed yours as you pulled away, greedy and yearning for your touch.

"What are we doing?" you whispered.

"I don't know, but it feels right. This is the only choice I've made in the last six months that feels so right." He stroked a thumb across your cheek. His mind was entirely enamored by you. You: gentle and caring, intoxicating, unique, his lapse from the confused, garbled darkness of his head. Of all the things to get lost in, you were by far the best.

"Why don't you take a break."

Stefan nodded and muttered, "yeah, okay." He let you pull him from the desk chair. He smiled when you pulled back the sheets of his bed, clearly meant for one person, and positioned yourself to cuddle with him. He pressed his back snug against your chest, letting you wrap an arm around his waist. His eyes slid closed just as you pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. He drifted to sleep with a smile on his lips.

[petty-revenge-stories]

Your kid painted me in puke? No problem, here's a frog, paint your kids and van with all your combined puke!

I should start off by saying my parents are immigrants. And also n-parents. And the only two major reasons I'm here in the U.S is because my mom needed a full-time loyal maid and personal servant, human dog (to respond to her command words), and basically just be at her disposal for whatever she may or may not want or need, whenever she felt like it. My siblings are younger.

Anyways, I didn't mind the house jobs and being given orders to go do something constantly even being woken up while sleeping a lot. She'd dump my younger siblings to start sleeping by me as soon as they turned two months old (she used to briefly pump her breast milk and have them in jugs for me to warm up and feed the baby with, until she figured out she some moms don't brest feed and just stopped) One was born when I was a freshmen in high school so I'd cater to him all night, wake up at like 4 am to make sure I clean up, clean him, set up clean bottles and warm water for his formula, bibs and extra clothes for the day, diapers and wipes and all that. And then prepare everything to be at a certain distance from her bed so that all my mom had to do is reach out. Then I'd make sure my mom and other siblings had breakfast ready before I start to get ready to walk the long trek (I hated it in the winter) to get to the bus stop. That's a little just background to lay the foundations for one of my small victories against her.

My mom wasn't the cleanest person out there, but she loved to rain on my parade about what a disgusting mess I was and how filthy I was (there's a term for generally dirty people in my native language and she loved to use it on me) so I developed a little anxiety to always keep things clean and organized just to keep her off my back.

Okay now the real post. There's only one thing I absolutely loathed. It was when anything bodly related getting on me. Specifically on my skin. My mom picked up on it by how I'd go to extreme lengths like following one of my brothers around with a bucket under his head whenever he was sick because he had a tendency to projectile vomit while swinging his head around to not get it on him. Or unlike her dumbass, I'd have a diaper and wipes ready BEFORE taking the old diaper off so I wouldn't have to deal with any messes. Her dumbass would let the kid run around and remain seated screaming out my name to grab her diaper. And when the kid pees, I'd have to pour cleaning agents then run the spot over with a carpet washing machine or whatever annoying method she deemed was necessary. The unspoken rule was, if anyone had an accident, whichever "grownup" (I was 14) was around had to clean up. This escalated to my mom hiding out in the bathrooms, or conveniently running out for a "quick errand" etc.. I just stupidly kept on cleaning shit up. Until I noticed. How she'd accidentally get shit on a stray thread of her shirt and complain about how she needed a shower right away and then come back right on time when I was done. I used to have fun taking extra long to mess with her. But bottom line is, She just didn't want to clean her own children's shit. She didn't even want to be a mother to her own kids unless it was to look good in front of others. But that's another story. I one decided I was fed up with being on gross duty by default and made a stink about how if her kids are sick, she should take them to a hospital to get cheked out because the amount of gross shit I had to clean up during flu season was just sickening. Worse if one (all) of them got a virus. She tried the whole I'm your mother I give you everything this is how you repay me, didn't work, heard it all. That graduated to her accusing me of hating and differentiating against HER children because of a little spit. I was pissed off. I said if it's her children then she should be the one cleaning up and caring for them when they were sick (or, you know, in general). My projectile brother was sick that day so while I was doing my homework, this ~bitch~ knew that his stomach was upset and lied to him that I had the puke bucket next to me in my room. This kid enters and I almost started bawling from the frustration and anger and extreme bitterness I felt when my bed, walls, carpet, part of the clothes in my closet, myself, AND my homework was puked on the second he opened his mouth to ask me. My mother simply walks in, looking so smug, and told me that since HER kid walked to my room on his own and had an "accident", I'd better clean up or I'd just have to sleep in that puke fest. I bit my tongue and played depressing but good korean ballads as I basically bleached my room. Anyone who's grossed out by everything puke and is also a clean freak will understand the dilemma of wondering what to clean first, room or body. The smell especially.

One week later it rained a lot and there were frogs everywhere. My mother hates frogs. She made the mistake of telling me this everytime she sees anything frog related. So I plan. She had an appointment that she could not miss and had to take all the kids with her cause I was at school and she couldn't find anyone on short notice to babysit. I make sure to be extra good and spend as much time taking out the trash as frequently as I could. I was searching for the biggest frog I could find. It took me some time because I didn't want to touch it with my bare hands, but I got it into her ancient van.

When I came back from school that day, that smell of multiple people puke was in the air. Her eyes were bloodshot. My siblings all looked stressed out. The van door was open. She was expecting me to come clean it. I simply walked into my room and shut it. Had this been an accident, she would have made my life miserable. But because of what she'd said to me, and her strong pride, I periodically peeked with a smug smile just to watch her cleaning her van for hours. And I enjoyed the stories my siblings told of how she'd gotten them all in the van and right as she walked in with my then youngest brother to put him in his car seat, she'd spotted the frog and unleashed her own projectile vomit all over herself and HER KIDS. Who all the proceeded to do the exact same thing to each other again and to her. One even peed and shit his pants simultaneously from the force of it. I am glad I was not there but also wish I kind of was just to see her reaction mid-puke when she realized I was at school and that also because of her words, she had lost a free car and kid washer.

(source) (story by nahisharoon)

[shadowdianne]

5th @alternate8reality

You know, if there is something I truly appreciate from you is your level-headedness, the fact that you are able to dissect and be completely honest and true about it in a way that some others would jump right into things they are not sure about. Your ability to seek and find the core of things rather than to stay at the surface is mesmerizing to be able to be privy too and I can only congratulate myself a little for having decided to open up that message a few months ago 😉 Thank you, always, for your words and comments and encouragement with my writing, it means and always will mean, a lot.

-          Alternate here went for the AU route. The AU route of making these two enemies AND making them share a bed. So we are back to the bed-sharing thing but less sweet and certainly more… well, cliffhanger material.

“There must be some kind of error.”

The icy tone, something Regina knew was basically her trademark back at home, seemed to not affect the hotel clerk who, with a short yet resolute nod pointed at the computer screen in front of her, the sleeve of the uniform’s coat she wore riling slightly up her wrist as she did so.

“I am afraid that is the case.” Her accent wasn’t thick, but it made her vowels sound rounder, softer in a way as she typed some command on the computer, blue eyes focused intently on the information displayed. “Unfortunately, there is nothing I can do; the entire hotel is booked so we don’t have any extra beds at the moment. Perhaps tomorrow…”

Regina pressed her lips together, forming a thin line as she stared down at the young girl; vaguely thinking on how much she would love to turn her into a flaming ball of fire as well as the entire hotel if necessary. Rolling her shoulders, straightening her posture as much as possible, she smirked, channeling her anger in what she hoped could be an enticing enough look for the other woman to reconsider.

“I’m sure there is something that…”

“Regina, stop that, you look a second away from eating this girl whole.”

Bristling, Regina turned towards where the voice of none other but the bane of her existence seemed to have emerged. Standing in the middle of the hotel’s foyer with that awful red leather jacket Regina was 100% sure that went against every policy their company possessed regarding dress-codes, Emma was in fact looking at both her and the girl, one brow raised. Green eyes looking at her with something that morphed into distaste just as the girl informed Regina in that same icy tone the brunette had used with her a mere moment before that there was, in fact, nothing she could do at the moment.

“It’s Mills, for you, Miss Swan.”

“I will let you both know when we are able to fix this.” She added just as Regina looked back at her, lips pursing as she realized the girl was merely looking at the blonde when she spoke, apparently having decided not to speak to her any longer. Storming with purposeful strides towards the elevators, she brushed against the blonde’s shoulder as the woman answered to the girl with something she didn’t quite caught, so engulfed with anger as she was.

She shouldn’t have accepted the project. She had been having similar thoughts assaulting her every few days ever since she had been ushered into one of the offices and told that the company was going to be tackling quite the idea for the next few months. An idea that was linked to someone that, at the time, Regina only had known for several emails simply signed as “E. Swan”. She, of course, hadn’t rejected the project nor the possibility to show how she was not only her mother’s shadow but someone capable of doing more, of reaching more, than her surname seemed to convey.

However, there were moments like this, moments in where Emma and her obnoxiousness got too loud for her to bear when she wondered if she should have closed the door and walked away from the opportunity. No matter how many times her mother would have pestered her about it.

A fine ding told her the elevator had arrived and she took a few steps towards the slowly sliding door, still fuming by the idea of needing to sleep –sleep! - in the same bed than the woman who had been nothing but a problem to her on the last few months.

It wasn’t, Regina thought as she walked into the small space with her hand already reaching for her phone, mentally considering if she had someone she could try to call for help or a place to sleep rather than the hotel the company had given them, that E. Swan had proved to be inefficient. She was capable in a way that not even her and her need for perfection had been the main reason why almost no one felt safe to work for or with her could even deny. Still, Miss Swan did not follow rules that Regina found the roots for the job to be well done. Showing a total disregard for punctuality, the basics of paperwork or showing an overabundance of both pride and stubbornness the blonde had been nothing but a thorn on her side ever since Regina had looked at the details she had been able to get about the other executive before doing that blasted phone call all those months ago.

And now, a day away from both of them presenting what had been the biggest project Regina had been able to work on ever since she entered the firm, Regina was positively fuming and holding quite the murderous intent to whomever who had paired her up with Miss Swan not only for the final reveal but into the suite they had been given. A luxurious bedroom, yes, but one that happened to only have one bed.

The mental image of a cackling Zelena made Regina wince; she couldn’t be sure, but she was already suspecting the older woman had had something to do with the mistake. The woman had friends almost in every other company and fields, no matter how far they were from the one she currently worked for. And she had a mischievous strike that made Regina ponder if she couldn’t simply call her and ask her upfront why she had made both her and Miss Swan share a mattress.

Sighing inwardly and about to push the button that would led her to the proper floor, Regina needed to swallow quite the undignified yelp when two hands prevented the doors of the elevator from closing seconds away before she was left blissfully alone in the elevator. It was no surprise to see the damned Miss Swan at the other side as she forced the doors to open enough for her to slide inside, lopsided smile and glimmering green eyes.

A detail that Regina’s brain focused on far too quickly for the brunette’s liking.

“What do you think you are doing?”

The blonde shrugged, that awful leather jacket a splatch of color against the crème-colored walls of the elevator and even Regina’s own black suit. Blonde locks bouncing, she gave Regina something that could only be a shit-eating grin.

“Going to my room.” And she enunciated the pronoun in a way that made Regina clench her hands, turning them into fists as finally the elevator re-started once again.

“Fine.” She muttered, and she didn’t say another word until they were at their floor, effectively walking past the blonde and barely acknowledging her throughout the short walk to their room.

“Ruby, I tell you, she is going to murder me while I’m sleeping.”

Her friend’s laughter at the other side of the phone made Emma roll her eyes at her as she carefully peeked to the closed door of the bathroom in where Regina had barricaded herself ten minutes ago. Seated at the edge of the ominous bed, the blonde fiddled with the fabric of the comforter as she waited for Ruby to stop cackling at her.

“I doubt Her Majesty here will ever think on doing such a thing.” Wincing at the use of the nickname Emma had given Regina one night after a far too long skype conversation, the blonde waited as Ruby kept on speaking, an obvious smirk echoing on every word. “Blood stains are a bitch to clean.”

Growling, Emma run her free hand through her hair, her fingers stopping at her collarbones where she began to carry a toneless tune, drumming the fingertips on the hollow of the bones, pinching and lifting the chain of the pendant that hung there, cold against her skin.

“Not funny, Rubes.”

She could almost picture the shameless shrug from her friend, the one who had made some… interesting remarks before Emma had taken the flight that had inevitably ended with her having one of the longest flights of her life. She was used to travel but not for so many hours and the jetlag was beginning to get to her in a way that she at least hoped for her to be able to close her eyes and be unaware of Regina’s presence for the rest of the night.

“She tried to call someone back at home.” She added, lowering her voice despite the sound of the shower was still traveling back to the room. “Asked for a favor even. Trust me, the murderous glint on her eyes when she didn’t get what she wanted makes me wonder if tomorrow I will wake without a head.”

“As long as you have written me down on your will I won’t worry about it.”

“Ha ha ha.”

Stopping halfway a retort to her friend, Emma’s ears perked up as the sound of the shower disappeared, being quickly followed by some rustling.

“Need to go.” She said instead. “Her royal highness is near.”

“Not as near as you would want if you are still calling her that.” Replied Ruby, ending the call before Emma was able to say something to the awful reminder that as soon as she had seen Regina she had sent the lanky brunette a message about how unfairly hot the woman was.

An idea that didn’t disappear from her mind when the brunette walked out of the bathroom already changed into her pajamas that were, of course, made of silk by the looks of it. Tonight, the blonde thought while eyeing the other woman through the corner of her eye, was going to be a very long one.

It wasn’t. Not truly, as she fell asleep just as soon as her head touched the pillow. Not until she, of course, woke up in the middle of the night with a urge to pee only to discover that at some point in the night Regina had inched closer to her; the woman that was dubbed as impossible, evil and a stick up for rules looking nothing but adorable with her hair mussed and lips slightly parted as she hogged just a little bit of too much sheet.

And it wasn’t fair, the blonde thought as she found herself completely frozen. She had heard of Regina Mills before she had been paired up with her of course. It was almost impossible for her to not have heard about her, about her mother, one of the most efficient women in the entire planet and one of the meanest as well. It seemed that Regina lived up by the mantle her mother had left behind and, to be honest, she had been equally worried as well as wishing to prove that she, a newbie, was just as competent as the other woman. Something that had ended up with Regina’s first email, full of passive-aggressive subtext that had made her bristle and promise herself to not only show the woman that she wasn’t uncapable but also better than her.

The fact that she had developed a crush even when everything she wanted sometimes was just punch the woman’s face had been a problem she had had under control until she had finally been standing in front of her a few hours earlier, with the usual mask of aloofness she played so well already sliding into place. And Regina had seemed to eat that act without giving her a second glance, being completely horrified when they both had been given the same room, the obvious mistake one Emma wasn’t entirely sure had been a mistake at all by the way Regina had eyed the clerk suspiciously before storming away.

Not that she was able to prove it. And if Regina woke up in that instant, finding Emma so close to her even though it had been hers the one who had inched closer, Emma suspected she would be dead before she was able to prove that.

Sighing deeply and moving at a snail-pace, she managed to detangle herself from the sheets without waking the brunette before tip-toeing towards the bathroom, only stopping herself an inch shy from the door to glance back, at where Regina still rested. Still looking far too hot and far too adorable for Emma’s slowly fried nerves.

If she survived the presentation, she thought while entering into the bathroom, shivering slightly against the cold touch of the tiles against the sole of her feet, maybe she could try to ask her for a drink.

Maybe.

Or maybe she ended up with her head chopped off.

[unrequited--desires-blog]

To all the things left unsaid:

Believe it or not, even remotely finding the courage to write this took a lot; considering that there would be the slightest possibility of giving this to you, of course. Anyway I guess you could say I fucking took my chances , I mean this is your fault and you said you always wanted to read my writing. So here goes nothing… See at the start I saw the world as a utopia of only blacks and whites , rights and wrongs, many fucks and more fuck-ups. I was blinded by all the perfectly ensembled things that I saw; nothing was ever unbalanced or bent. I was so devoid of colour that I had no fucking idea what it was like to exist around anything faintly tinted. It was like I was wearing a fucking visor 24/7 on my head - but between you and me I secretly knew that it was my way of protecting myself; Ignorance was fucking bliss. So I isolated myself from the real world and chose to avoid it. I built a house around me with 4 walls, two black and two white. The house had doors obviously, people could open them and enter, and we would exchange our gifts on special occasions. But it wasn’t that simple with me , I had conditions you see; once you enter you inevitably have to leave and you were never allowed to stay. That didn’t tend to work well with people. Even the ones who visited multiple times, they certainly never came back. I was always told that people come and go, so normally I simply let them come and fucking go. Imprudently, the mere realisation that some people tend to leave things behind didn’t occur to me. Yes, people do come and go but they never truly leave you. The ones that get the furthest away from you, ironically end up being the closest to your heart . Guess who learnt that the hard way? Fucking guarded, I built gates around my house after that, just for extra reinforcement. And then I met you. Now let me be frank, when I first saw you, holy-fucking-shit didn’t you look like a nerd? You were wearing the fucking school blazer and you were quite reserved and you had nice hand-wiring and a resting bitch-face even though your smirk didn’t pass by me - but whatever. At the same time I found you intriguing (weirdly enough I know). Now , keeping in mind, this was before I screamed at you for being and intrusive twat.( I felt bad about that). Any-fucking-way after that I came to the conclusion that I hated you. I wish I remember how I got over that but who knows? For all I remember I made a bet and me being a competitive twat, I never like to lose. Easily enough, I accidently pulled you and as I was pulling I saw you for the first time. You were sweet , endearing and something about you was extremely earnest. Oddly enough, we were more alike than I thought. We both needed something, an entertainer. I’d fuck with you and you’d make me laugh and we were both so fucking good at the game. We lied to each other and disguised the truth because we knew that we had our own personal rules that we obliged to. You had morals; I kissed you, your lips were cold and bitter. I had none- (obviously) -and when I tasted you, I never gave in and I made sure I was hot and sweet. The perfect fucking balance. Perfection. Glorified? Probably. According to the laws of physics, both opposite forces of any kind must be equally distributed to become balanced at all times. That’s pretty hard. We weren’t very good at that. I blame fucking oestrogen and testosterone. The lust was pretty surreal. We were practically governed by our hormones that we ignored all of rationality that could possibly exist around us. Fun wasn’t it? I have a confession. Now if you’ve ever read about love in science’s perspective you’d know that it’s nothing but chemicals and coincidence. It makes perfect sense, you have coincidence, where you meet the person. Here you get hit with like instantaneous lust. So chemically speaking your body releases hormones, high levels of sex hormones and fucking dopamine and its fucking pleasure followed by the lovely low levels of serotonin( literally decodes into chemical obsession). That translates into attraction. Then the enemy of any normal, rational human; oxytocin. This fucking bitch provides you with unwanted attachment issues and any hopes for long-term relationships (probably your biggest fear). So my confession is that I never believed in love and to this day (although I am not as much a love atheist as I previously was) still question it. I believed in science and observations. From what I saw, at first, people seemed almost high of love (fucking hormones) at the beginning and then slowly and painfully it fades until it just becomes ordinary. Or worse, you end up resenting your significant other. Either way there was never a happily ever after. Consequently, I chose to trust in lust, attraction, companionship and symbiotic relationships. This hopefully explains my promiscuous tendencies. Whilst we were lost in our sexual era, I think we forgot how to communicate (besides physically) and you lost all communication as a whole. Many conversations without destinations was always our problem. That wasn’t great for me. Previously, my only moral in the so called love shit was use and abuse (I know horrible, but its what helped me survive and meet my-uncalled-for selfish needs). Not abuse physically-rather emotionally. How-fucking-ever, I was not used to being treated in the same way back in return. The universe and its irony. But you, I have to say, you fucking excelled. I had the withdrawal symptoms of taking heroine away from a junkie. Fuck. I got granted the epiphany of a lifetime. This fucking intruder broke down the walls I built for my lovely home and left me vagrant. I was a naked mess, really. So I did what any normal junkie would do. I searched for an alternate recreation and it was way too fucking easy. Once I got my first hit in a while, it punched me straight in the fucking face. It was worthless, empty and so fucking hollow. It wasn’t what I needed but what I wanted. Far from it honestly. Pathetically, I cried and I cried like a little bitch. Worst-of-fucking-all-for-some-fucking-reason I felt these things I’ve never quite encountered giving the circumstances, such as guilt and regret and exposed with a hint of humiliation. I was truly bewildered. Touching isn’t it, feeling for the first time? Since I lost my house , I had nothing left to lose. With that came this loss for caring followed by the lingering fear of being completely liberated. That’s why society made rules to follow because once your free it becomes quite arduous to actually give a single fuck. Me being me, I was unconventional in my situation and I told you the truth about everything expecting nothing in return. I spat little bits of my pride with every word. Did I give a shit? No. And I let go. I wasn’t shaded from all the things we never said because like I mentioned before, I didn’t believe in love. But the irony of life always slaps in you in the face because I saw it; love. I saw it when I looked at you and I heard in our silence and felt in everyday that I spent without you in every way of the word. Did I become a believer? No. Seeing is believing they say-but I only saw you. When you have nothing left to lose you why should you start to give a fuck? With loss come the evitable lost. Lost is defined as denoting something that has been taken away or cannot be recovered. What’s lost can always be found; recovery is hard when it comes to an addict and just when I managed to tremble my way out of it, you came back. You know that feeling when you find something after losing it for what feels like forever? Ingratiating really is the true definition of that. I was back to my void with you. I wasn’t seeing black and white anymore. I saw you. You were blue and I was red; the primary bases of the colour spectrum. You were the colour of a newly formed bluebell that consumed my crimson soul. Every day I was whirled into your pool and into your myriad shades of blue sinking deeper and deeper into your vacuum completely free of gravity. The thing about sinking is that you slowly start to lose your consciousness as you painfully become deprived of breathing. Oblivion never scared me though. So I let myself sink and deteriorate into you. Here, where each sound is different, every shade of blue was so iridescent and every laugh became a spiral of translucent bubbles, I felt safe-contrary to the popular apprehension accompanied with that of aquaphobia. Our game of desire was toxic. Wrapping your arms around me, your mouth accentuated the gratifying chaos that the colour of your breath created, destroying the inflamed-red, atmosphere that shielded me. Every touch was enticing and you captivated me. I let you. I was so caught up in your vehement blue that I loved you with my eyes as much as my body. In white light, when red and blue collide you get a frequency of 750 THz , until you reach the longest and intimate end of the spectrum. Unequivocal and fated, when you touched me I became a lilac sky and you just simply decided purple just wasn’t for you, pulling apart my seams with every intoxicating trace of your fingertips. Drowning. At the bottom of every ocean its always pitch black and the presence of the deafening silence creates a lingering sense of discomfort. You left me there and what I felt was used. I wasn’t a stranger to the solitude you always create. So if anything you left me where you found me. I can’t say that I didn’t see it coming; love isn’t blind, it’s more like the creator of shaded faith and high expectation. Science never found a definition for love. Innocent until proven guilty? There is no proof. To me, love is nothing but a natural muse, nothing but a physical tactility that leaves you lost in thought and hormones. Were you the lost clarity of it or simply the missing proof? I found some parts of you eventually and I realized that fear is your demagogue. It provokes you and giving in, no, actually giving up is the only way to avoid it for you. Neglecting the things you need is just a coping mechanism because you are so afraid to feel something real. It has this hold over you that is almost inexplicable.  You think that you’re winning, you indulge in it, almost obey it and in return you get what you want and the rewarding fortification that comes with it devours you. You never seized your gaze long enough or held me for too long and I get it. The sheer thought of loss frightens you because it aches. I know it does. No one likes to lose a game, especially you. All the ups and downs and the highs and lows for nothing. Nothing isn’t a deficit. The problem with nothing is that it leaves you hollow and bare. I’ve learnt that no entity in the world compares to the pain of being empty. It makes perfect sense; not a single thing hurts worse than not hurting at all. So in this game of two we were both defeated. Is ignorance really bliss or is it just an aid in forgetting the things that you don’t want to occupy your mind with right now? You helped in rebuilding my walls and I’m settled back home again on my blank street in my opaque world, this time I don’t have doors. On the same street, in a different world with different colours and shattered pieces that I failed to amend, is where you stay. 

[artificialqueens]

take back (shalaska + teen!aquaria) - DanFin

A/N: The title can be misleading. This doesn’t focus on Shalaska a lot or Aquaria’s relationship with Sharon and/or Alaska. It’s just hinted at. This mainly focuses on Aquaria’s relationship with her sister, Ella. A pal of mine made Ella up. Said pal wanted me to write this. Enjoy!

Also: there are some harsh comments in this, so if that bothers you, don’t read. (For example, a character it told that they are unnatural and shouldn’t be alive.)

Ella sprinted out of the school building as the principal announced that school was dismissed over the intercom system. She wanted to get out of school before they spotted her. She felt like a gazelle trying to escape a three cheetahs; three very aggressive cheetahs named Patrick, Jack, and Ava.

She smiled when she saw her older sister, Aquaria, outside. She knew she would be protected if she was around her. Nobody in the school dared to mess with Aquaria. She was the second most popular kid in the school! - She also had a mother that wasn’t afraid to kick a teenaged boy’s ass. -

“Aquaria!” Ella shouted as she got closer to the older girl. “Wait for me!”

Aquaria halted and looked behind her. She smiled at the sight of her sister. She figured it was Ella running after her. Even though she refused to show it, she always missed Ella being with during the school day.

“How was your day?” Aquaria asked once her younger sister had caught up to her. The two girls began to walk slowly towards their home.

“It was…eventful, but somewhat good,” Ella replied. “I got to hang out with Scout and their friend, Keegan. Then the three hellhounds got after us.” She sighed sadly and looked down as she walked. She didn’t want to see Aquaria’s expression; she knew it would either be stern or concerned.

“What did they do?” Aquaria asked. She had heard these so-called “hellhounds” had given Ella trouble in the past. - She began to see it as bullying. - She wondered how bad their bullying was.

Ella bit her lip and rubbed her arm. Should I tell Aquaria? I mean, I have before, but that was before Jack, Patrick, and Ava decided to attack me while I was with my friends. She thought to herself. She kept her gaze to the ground.

“Ella..?”

“Hmm?” Ella finally looked up at Aquaria. She saw a concerned expression. It made her feel weird. She didn’t like to see her sister express anything except happiness or pride.

“What did they do?” Aquaria repeated. She was referring to the people Ella addressed as “hellhounds.” She was determined to find out what they did this time.

“Well, they, um, they did attack me while I was with Scout and Keegan. They said that our whole family is damned and… we’re unnatural… and we shouldn’t be the way we are… and we shouldn’t even exist,” Ella explained.

She wasn’t very comfortable with talking about this. She hated it when people judged or bullied her because of her family and how she was brought into the world. She wished people understood that not everyone has a mom and a dad and not everyone lives with or knows both of their birth parents.

Aquaria gasped when she heard the words coming out of her younger sister’s mouth. She didn’t know teens could be that awful. - Probably because she was involved with the popular crowd. - “Ella, you have to tell someone,” she said. She was smart enough to know that Ella didn’t need to hide this anymore. If she did, it would only get worse.

Ella shook her head vigorously, “No! I don’t!”

“Not even Mom or Mama?” Aquaria asked. She was certain Ella trusted their own mothers enough to report bullying to them.

“Not even them,” Ella replied. She knew her Mom, Sharon, would flip. Sharon wasn’t scared to hurt anyone that hurt her babies or wife; she was very protective of them. Even two-hundred to three-hundred pound boys that play American football and basketball were in danger if they laid a cross hand on Ella, Aquaria, or Alaska.

Aquaria wouldn’t let this stand. “Then I have no choice but to tell them myself,” she stated. She knew their parents had to be informed before the bullying got much worse. The bullies were telling Ella that she shouldn’t exist; it was only a matter of time until she would start believing them. That scared Aquaria more than anything.

Ella stopped abruptly with a huff. She glared at Aquaria. “You will not tell our parents! If you love me, you’ll accept my requests and keep your damn mouth shut!” Ella continued to glare at her older sister. She couldn’t believe Aquaria would turn her back on her like that. They had always promised to keep each other’s secrets, no matter what.

“I’m telling them because I love you!” Aquaria exclaimed. “I’m trying to help you, I promise! I can’t lose you, don’t you understand that?”

Ella huffed and walked ahead of her sister. She was too angry to speak. She didn’t want to waste her breath on Aquaria right now, anyways.

-

Later that night, after dinner, Ella was in her room while Alaska, Sharon, and Aquaria were in the kitchen. Ella didn’t know if she could be around them right now without accidentally mentioning the bullies. So, isolating herself in her room was a great solution.

Aquaria had other plans for Ella. She pulled herself up to sit on a countertop in the kitchen. She had Sharon and Alaska’s attention. She bit her lip and looked at the ground. “Mom, there’s something we need to talk about,” she said nervously.

“What is it?” Sharon asked. She stood in front of Aquaria. Alaska stood next to her. Is she being bullied? Is she pregnant? Did she and Maxwell break up? Sharon wondered.

“It’s about Ella,” Aquaria replied. She knew she was betraying her sister, but it was for the best. Ella would thank her later. “Ella is being bullied.” She finally let out the breath she didn’t realise she was holding.

Sharon’s eyes widened and she gasped. How could someone be bullying Ella? Ella wouldn’t hurt a fly! She’s the sweetest kid I know! “What?! Has she told you?” Sharon asked Aquaria. Aquaria nodded in reply.

“Do you know who is bullying her?” Alaska asked. She knows if you know who the bully is, you can stop it. She doesn’t want Ella to go through anymore bullying.

“She’s mentioned the names Patrick, Jack, and Ava before, maybe it’s them,” Aquaria replied. “She always runs away from them. I know all three of them are homophobic.” She had run into Patrick before, and it was not a pleasant experience.

Alaska looked to Sharon, hoping she had a suggestion. Sharon looked to Alaska, hoping the same thing. All she the solutions she was thinking of were a bit violent.

Alaska decided to make the first move. “Ella Vira Needles!” she shouted, hoping Ella would hear her and actually reply. Sometimes, the teen would ignore her moms and they would have to go to her.

Ella decided to respond this time. Usually, when Alaska used her middle name, she was in trouble or her attention was needed immediately. She got off of her bed and exited her room. They’re probably going to ask me if I have homework or something. I’m haven’t done anything to get in trouble and Aquaria wouldn’t betray me. She walked to the kitchen confidently.

Ella cowered when she entered the kitchen. She noticed that Alaska looked concerned and Sharon looked angry. Aquaria looked very guilty. She backed away and into a darker part of the kitchen. She wasn’t ready for Ella’s reaction.

The bitch told them, Ella thought to herself. My own sister fucking betrayed me! I thought I could trust her! I thought the things she was saying earlier were empty threats! I was wrong…

“Ella, why didn’t you tell us?” Sharon asked. She tried to remain as calm as possible. “You can always talk to us. We would never, ever judge you.”

“Tell you about what?” Ella asked. Maybe playing dumb will get me out of here.

“The bullying,” Sharon replied. “I would’ve stopped it, even if it meant scaring the shit out of a fifteen-year-old!” She felt herself getting worked up again. This was definitely not a time for Ella to be playing dumb.

Ella glared at Aquaria. “Who said I was being bullied? I’m not being bullied! I’m fine!” Ella knew Alaska and Sharon probably would not believe her since Aquaria hadn’t lied to them in a long time. She still had to try.

“Aquaria told us. Aquaria wouldn’t lie about that,” Sharon said. Ella felt trapped; she would either have to confess or let her parents pry it out of her. Either way, she would have to tell them everything.

“Well, Aquaria is a liar!” Ella exclaimed. She didn’t care about anyone’s feelings at this point. She just wanted to get out of this situation.

Sharon felt frustrated with her daughter; she just wanted her to cooperate. Does she like being a victim? Does she not trust Alaska and I? Sharon wondered. What will it take to get her to talk?

Before Sharon could speak again, Alaska intervened. “Ella, if you’re being bullied, just tell us. You won’t be in trouble,” Alaska assured Ella. “I know being bullied is miserable. Talking about it can be, too. Take your time.” Alaska knew that by taking a gentler, less intrusive, approach, she would be more successful. She would have a better chance of being told about what is going on.

Alaska’s gentleness got to Ella; she was caught off guard. She felt tears burn her eyes. She rubbed her arm and looked down. What Alaska said was true; being a victim was miserable.

Ella began to remember all the things Jack, Patrick, and Ava had said to her. All the harsh comments that made her hate parts of herself. All the comments that discouraged her from participating in any extra curricular activities at school. All the comments that had ruined her life. All fifteen years of her life.

Ella couldn’t take it anymore; she let the tears she was holding back spill. She let out a small sob. “I am be-being bullied,” she said. “A-And I h-hate it. I-I want help.” She kept her gaze to the ground so her parents and sister wouldn’t see her tears.

Sharon felt her frustration become replaced with heartbreak. She hated seeing her daughter so distressed. She walked past Alaska and closer to Ella. She and wrapped her arms around the teen. Ella quickly returned the gesture. Alaska soon joined in on their hug.

“Breath, Ella, breath,” Alaska explained. “You don’t have to tell us everything right now. We just need to know who’s bullying you. We can find everything else out later.” She rubbed Ella’s back. Ella hugged Sharon tighter.

“I’m sorry if I came off as harsh. I just wanted to know what was going on,” Sharon added. She knew she could be harsh, which was a flaw she desperately needed to work on. Especially when talking to kids.

Ella took a deep breath; she knew it was time to tell her parents. She pulled away from them. She explained what had been happening: the comments, the name calling, being shoved into lockers, being attacked while she was with Scout and Keegan, everything. By the end of it, both Sharon and Alaska had tears in their eyes. They didn’t think people were still that mean and narrow-minded.

“And that’s all,” Ella concluded. She felt drained, both mentally and physically. “Can I go to my room now?” Sharon nodded in reply. Ella walked out of the kitchen and back to her room. She closed the door behind her. She collapsed on the bed and sighed. She didn’t know talking could be so tiring.

-

Later that night, while Sharon and Alaska were calling the school about Jack, Patrick, and Ava, Aquaria walked up to Ella’s door. She contemplated opening it and talking to Ella. She felt uneasy about approaching Ella. Will Ella reject me? Will she still be mad? Aquaria asked herself. She looked at the door in front of her. The white, wooden object had never been so intimidating until now.

C'mon, Aquaria, you’ve got this; it’s now or never.

Aquaria opened the bedroom door in one swift motion. She held her breath, waiting for Ella’s response. She felt relieved when she wasn’t yelled at. Ella was facing away from the door. Maybe she’s asleep? Maybe I won’t have to do this until tomorrow. Aquaria thought to herself hopefully.

Ella turned over to face Aquaria. Aquaria froze in place. She became a bit uncomfortable. Ella sat up, wondering why Aquaria was in her room. “Hello.” she said in a monotone voice. She wasn’t mad at Aquaria, but she certainly wasn’t happy with her, either.

“Hi,” Aquaria replied. “Can we talk?” Ella nodded, which made Aquaria feel more comfortable. She walked over to Ella’s bed and sat down beside her.

“Hey, Ella, I’m sorry for telling Mom and Mama about…that,” Aquaria said. “I didn’t know it would be that hard for you.” Ella was upset because of me; it was all my fault.

Ella looked at Aquaria. “It’s fine,” she insisted. “What’s with you and apologizing all of a sudden? It’s very unlike you.” Aquaria usually didn’t apologize to Ella explicitly since they were sisters. Aquaria didn’t think she had to apologize to Ella explicitly. She usually made Ella gather clues to conclude her apologies. - She insisted that she was helping Ella get smarter by making her use context clues. -

“Well, I realized that I really hurt you…and that I could’ve changed our bond forever. We’ve never betrayed each other before and I did,” Aquaria explained. “As I said, I can’t lose you. I need someone to be my lookout/scout.” She winked, hoping a bit of humor would lighten the mood.

Ella smiled slightly. “I guess.” She paused briefly. “We are sisters; we are blood-related. Even if we were mad at each other, we couldn’t stop loving each other,” she assured Aquaria. “You actually helped me. Now I don’t have to deal with those three.”

I guess crying and talking things out really makes a person think. Aquaria thought to herself. “I’m glad I did. So, sisters?” She hoped Ella’s answer would be: “yes.”

“Of course, you idiot. What do you think my statement about us being blood-related was about?” Ella asked.

Aquaria shrugged. Ella hugged her. Aquaria was surprised by the action, so she was stiff at first. She soon loosened up and hugged Ella back. She was relieved by two things: Ella wouldn’t have to deal with Jack, Patrick, and Ava again and they would never, ever hate each other.

[richiefuckfacetozier]

Chapter 15: Under Pressure

Story: It’s Not My Fault

Pairing: Richie Tozier and Eddie Kaspbrak

Located on Archive of our own

For other chapters - | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 |

“She didn’t even let you tell her?” Beverly said in horror from the backseat of the car. Richie drove Eddie and Beverly to school the next day. They had started doing it when Richie's father gave him his mother's car after her DUI. 'The only useful thing Wentworthless has ever done for me.' Richie had said once.

“What a fucking bitch.” Beverly hissed.

Eddie fidgeted awkwardly at Beverly’s brashness. As angry as he was, she was still his mother. “It was awful Bev. Then I was so terrified I might see her this morning that I made Richie help me sneak out the window and down a fucking tree.”

Richie laughed heartily, taking his eyes off the road to say to Beverly. “It was hilarious. He fell on the last branch and landed in my arms like a damsel.”

“EYES FORWARD!” Eddie screeched. “And it wasn’t funny! I saw my life flash before my eyes.” Eddie shoved Richie’s shoulder.

Richie scoffed, “Oh please, you fell like 4 feet.”

“You’re the cutest, Eddie.” Beverly laughed and ruffled his hair affectionately. Eddie scrunched his face at her. He ran his fingers through his hair to flatten it back down.

“I am not cute.” Eddie grumbled.

“Yes, you are.” Richie and Beverly said at the same time. Richie put his hand up and without even looking at it, Beverly perfectly high-fived him.

“How do you two do that?” There was a slight twinge of jealousy at how in sync Beverly and Richie always were.

“Rich might be your soulmate but he’s my other half.” Beverly poked Richie’s side. Eddie could not help but smile to himself at being called Richie’s soulmate.

Richie squirmed away from her poking since he is the most ticklish person around, “It’s true. She could probably guess what I am thinking right now.”

Eddie crossed his arms surveying them with doubt. He zeroed in on Beverly. “Alright, prove it. What is Richie thinking?”

“You don’t want me to say, I promise.” Beverly laughed.

“Do it, Bev.” Richie bounced in the driver’s seat excitedly. “Try to guess!”

She grinned at him and cracked her knuckles as if getting ready for a boxing match. “Alright, three things. One, what you are going to do about lunch since Eddie didn’t pack any food for either of you and you probably forgot your wallet.”

“Correct.” Richie nodded.

“You shouldn’t be driving without your wallet!” Eddie chastised.

Richie shrugged, “I keep my license in the glove compartment.”

Eddie opened the glove compartment to check then closed it roughly. “You’re an idiot. We can go off campus and get food, I brought money.”

Beverly put her hand over Eddie’s mouth to stop him from harping. “Two, if I brought weed for us to smoke later. The answer is yes.”

Eddie pulled her hand from his mouth glaring at the pair, “Guys, seriously?” 

“Listen,” Richie said with an air of superiority. “We are trying to cut back on cigarettes for you.” 

“And because cigarettes are making our lungs shit.” Beverly added in annoyance.

Eddie huffed, “Well, good because not to pull the dead dad card but he died of lung cancer you dipshits.”

Beverly shrugged, “Weed is better than nicotine anyway.”

“That’s true but harder to get in small-town stupidass Maine,” Richie complained.

“What’s the third thing he’s thinking about?” Eddie said bringing them back on task. 

Beverly smirked devilishly, “Three, sorry about this Eddie, he’s thinking about sex with you.”

Eddie's mouth gaped open and his has flushed bright red. He twisted in his seat to scream, “Fuck you, Beverly!”

She put her hands up in defense laughing, “It’s true!!”

“To be fair, I always am, so that one doesn’t really count.” Richie reached over and pinched Eddie’s cheek.

He batted the hand away, “Unlock the door, I’m gonna to fling myself out of the moving car.”

They all started laughing so hard their sides hurt. Eddie was grateful to have two of the best distractions in his life. Beverly and Richie were the best at cheering him up. When they quieted down, Beverly brought her hand forward to hold Eddie’s. They had the same size hands. Her’s were calloused just like Richie’s. He sighed and squeezed her hand kindly.

She hesitated then asked, “So what are you going to do about your mom, hun?”

He shared a quick glance with Richie. “Again I say, unlock the door so I can fling myself out of the moving car.”

“Eddie!” She laughed at his dark humor. “Are you going to try telling her you're gay, again?”

“Nope.” He said definitively.

“Come on, my fruity skittle, you have to try again until she listens.” Richie encouraged. He placed a hand on Eddie’s knee rubbing it soothingly. The attention from both of them was becoming overwhelming. Eddie did not want to have this conversation right now, but he had already decided what he would do after last night.

“No, I’m not going through that again. I will act like nothing happened because I know that’s what she’ll do.” Eddie let go of Beverly’s hand to turn in his seat and talk directly at Richie. “I’m going to get through school, graduate, and move away forever. That’s the only sensible option for me.” 

Richie removed his hand from Eddie’s knee and placed it back on the steering wheel. Eddie observed as his mouth turned into a thin line but he kept his eyes front refusing to acknowledge this latest confession.

Beverly, however, was not going to ignore it. “Eddie, that’s crazy. You can’t live a lie for a year and a half.”

He locked eyes with her incredulously. “I’ve been living a lie under that roof for 16 years, why bother being honest now. I won’t get to be myself until I’m far away from Derry.”

The car fell silent. Beverly was regarding Richie with caution, who was still staring forward in thought. His grip on the steering wheel tightened significantly. There is a deadly calm that passes over Richie when he is angry before he blows up or says what is wrong. Everyone in their friend group finds it extra unnerving because Richie is rarely truly mad.

He took a deep breathe then let it out. Eddie watched him do all this in confusion. He seemed to be trying to control the anger. What does he have to be angry about? Eddie thought.

“I love you for you and always will,” Richie said through gritted teeth. “But please stop talking about leaving forever unless I am in that equation. It is pissing me off.”

Eddie opened his mouth to snap at him but closed it deciding he would not go there. There was too much going on his head to be fighting with Richie. “I love you too.” Eddie whispered. “And of course. I go wherever the fuck you go.” Richie’s intensity eased and he smiled at Eddie for repeating the same words he said last night.

Beverly sighed sadly, “I love you both and I’m sorry your parents suck.”

“I think my mom is coming around. She loves Eddie.” Richie rolled his eyes grinning. “Wants to adopt him and hasn’t insulted me for being gay in a while.”

“Oh my god, that’s so precious!” Beverly squealed animatedly. “Do you think she suspects anything between you two?”

Richie nodded, “Definitely. My mom is too smart not to.”

Eddie felt his mouth dry up with nerves. “Oh god. I hope she doesn’t tell my mom,” Eddie grumbled. “But I really like her too so that’s nice.”

Richie pulled into the school parking lot trying to find a spot. It did not take him long because he had the best luck with parking spots. “How do you always get a front row parking spot!” Eddie laughed in disbelief.

Richie wiggled his eyebrows seductively, “Clean living, baby.”

“Ok. Sure, Trashmouth.” Eddie smirked.

Richie put the car in park but kept the heater running. They had some time before classes to sit in his car. Beverly pulled out a cigarette, saw the evil-eye Eddie was giving her, then put it back in her pocket. “How’s your mom been doing in general, Rich?” She asked.

“Bev, she’s been sober for 2 weeks.” He said with pride. “She went back to AA.”

Eddie gazed at him with surprise. He felt a pang of sadness that Richie had never told him something so important. “I didn’t know she ever went to Alcoholics Anonymous.”

“Oh yeah,” He turned his head toward Eddie. “She’s been going on and off for a decade but this is the most amount of meetings she has ever been too. It’s nice, but it will inevitably come crashing down soon.”

“Why?” Beverly asked in concern.

Richie took a deep breath and let it out. “My dad’s leaving her.”

Beverly immediately put her hand on his right shoulder, Richie placed his own on top of hers. She did not say anything right away. It blew Eddie’s mind how connected the two of them were. They were all an extremely connected group. Shared trauma will do that to you.

Beverly raised her face up and shouted, “Hey, universe! Go fuck yourself! Leave my gays alone.”

“Did you mean guys?” Eddie laughed.

She placed her other hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “I did not my love.”

“Alright, Richie,” Eddie decided to change the subject before one of them cried and got sappy. “What is Beverly thinking about.”

“Hmmmm,” He thought for a moment. “What did you have for breakfast Bev?”

She sat back in her seat crossing her arms with a challenging grin on her face. “I didn’t eat breakfast.”

“Alright, she is thinking about: our science test today, if Stanley is going to cancel their shopping plans this weekend, and whether Ben will finally ask her out. 

“Never going to happen,” Beverly sighed dramatically. “Sometimes I wonder if he really likes me or not. Then I see the way he looks at me and I am just like...kiss my fucking face, Ben Hanscom!”

“Why don’t you ask him out? Who says the guy has to do it?” Eddie suggested.

“Oh, I have. Three fucking times but he doesn’t think I am serious. No one ever takes me seriously.” She wrapped her arms around Richie’s shoulders and pretended to weep.

“Same!” Richie joined her fake crying charade.

“I wonder why.” Eddie commented sarcastically. He shoved them apart and added a forehead flick for good measure. “We should probably head inside.”

As Eddie opened the door the icy air hit his face harshly. He hated being cold more than anything. Richie walked around and slung his arm around Eddie’s shoulders knowing this about him. Normally he would berate the taller boy for being too openly affectionate, but the extra warmth was really welcoming. He let himself move closer into Richie’s side.

“I’ll see you two later, I’m going to try and catch Ben before homeroom.” Beverly kissed Eddie on the cheek kindly. “Sorry, again about your mom babe.” Then she looked at Richie. “And sorry about your dad. I love you both.” 

“We love you too, Bevvie.” Richie said smiling. She waved them goodbye and jogged toward the school.

Richie brought his face to Eddie’s ear whispering, “So my most beloved tootsie roll, I know we have already talked about not doing anything on Valentine’s Day next week but I was thinking since…”

“No, fuck Valentine’s Day.” Eddie interrupted him pulling out of the embrace. They were starting to be too obvious anyway.

“Come on Eddie! Please?!” Richie whined.

“No Richie, Valentine’s Day is a stupid commercialized holiday meant to make you buy overpriced flowers or chocolates, It makes single people feel bad and I don’t care for it. If you truly love your loved one then you would show it every day.”

“I wonder what that’s like.” Richie grumbled angrily.

Eddie stopped in his tracks staring at Richie, who turned around realizing Eddie had ceased walking. Eddie’s face was burning with rage. “Richie...what the actual fuck?”

“I’m sorry Eds. It’s just…” Richie grabbed his arm and pulled him to the side of the school building out of hearing range. A couple people glanced at them curiously but no one paid much attention. When they were safely away from others, Eddie pulled his arm away. 

Richie put his hands in his pockets taking a shaky breath, “Eddie, I want to go out on a real date with you.” Richie’s eyes were boring into Eddie’s with a lot of emotion. “As actual boyfriends.”

Eddie’s own face softened at that. “We go on dates, Rich.”

Richie shook his head. “I don’t want one of our usual ‘dates’. Where we go to the Aladdin Theater and have to sit in the back to hold hands. Which only happens if there is no one in the row with us. I don’t want to have a fake date where we have to invite everyone else just to make it look like it isn’t a date. I’m tired of the secrecy. I understand it, honestly, I do, but I am still tired of it. We are going on almost 5 months dating and it just feels like we aren’t moving in any real direction. In fact, sometimes it feels like we are moving backward. I just think we should go on a -”

“Ok!” Eddie yelled to stop his rambling. 

Richie stared at him, not believing he had successfully convinced him. “What do you mean, ‘Ok’?”

Eddie exhaled, “I mean ok. Let’s got on a real date.”

“Are you serious?” Richie searched his face for any sign that he was joking or wanted to take it back.

“Yeah, you have a car,” He went to hold Richie’s hand with a reluctant smile. “Let’s drive out of town and go on a fucking real date.”

Richie pulled him in closer with excitement making Eddie stumble into his chest. Richie kissed his cheek. “Wow, so this weekend?”

“This weekend sounds great.” Eddie paused and played with the zipper on Richie’s coat, then asked, “Have we really been dating for 5 months?”

Richie smirked at his boyfriend’s complete cluelessness. “We kissed September 14.”

“Shit...our 5 month anniversary is on Valentine’s Day. God damn it.” Eddie peered at him hopefully. If he could avoid a Valentine’s Day anniversary, he was going to try. “Alright, but you didn’t ask to be my boyfriend until my birthday in November.”

Richie brushed Eddie’s bangs to the side slowly. “I consider the kiss to be more pivotal than when I asked to be boyfriends. It’s hotter.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, “Such the romantic.”

“Only for you, babe.”

“Hey, Richie…” Eddie bit his lip anxious to ask this question.

Richie continued running his hand through Eddie’s hair absently. “Yeah?” 

“When Beverly called us soulmates...do you think she is right?” Eddie held his breath for an answer.

A bit of a blush spattered on Richie’s cheeks as he said, “Absolutely.” Without an ounce of doubt.

Eddie smiled up at him feeling just as much certainty. “Me too.”

The first bell rang signaling that they needed to head toward class. Eddie placed his hand on Richie’s shoulder squeezing it. “We’ll talk more later. Let’s go to homeroom.” He turned to walk away but Richie wrapped his arm around Eddie’s waist bringing him roughly into his chest. Richie leaned forward brushing his lips lightly against Eddie’s but not fully closing the distance. As if challenging Eddie to pull away. His hot minty breath washing over Eddie’s face made him shiver. His needs took over any logic and he put his arms around Richie’s neck pressing their mouths together.

Their lips parted quickly, wasting no time as their tongues rolled against each other. Their breathing was heavy and loud as Eddie sucked on Richie’s bottom lip. Both of them were practically panting.

Richie slid his hand under his jacket and up the front of Eddie’s shirt. His touch leaving a trail of burning in its wake. Eddie moaned as their bodies molded closer together. This just encouraged Richie as his other hand grabbed Eddie’s behind. Eddie gasped and kissed him harder practically bruising their lips. Richie kneaded him eliciting another groan from Eddie. He could barely focus with Richie touching him like this. Eddie was hot. Too hot. He needed them to stop right now.

Except he wanted to keep kissing Richie. If he could kiss Richie every day, all day, for the rest of his life, he would. Richie kissed down his jaw as he pulled Eddie even closer, flushing their bodies as one even through all the layers. Eddie rolled his hips against Richie who groaned. His lips pressed against Eddie’s neck, licking and biting into his skin.

“Don’t mark my neck,” Eddie breathed out.

“Fine.” Richie brought his lips back up to kiss Eddie’s. Then the moment was broken by the sound of the second bell.

“SHIT!” Eddie grabbed his bag and started running. Richie following on his tale. They ran up the school steps and flew through the halls until they reach their classroom.

Eddie swung the door open quickly. “I’m so sorry Mr. Clarke!” Eddie said breathlessly.

“My car broke down, had to run ten blocks here.” Richie lied easily.

The teacher frowned, “Sit down Mr. Tozier.” Richie and Eddie went to take their seats. Eddie made eye contact with Mike, who was laughing to himself at their appearance.

“Hold on Mr. Kaspbrak. You are wanted in the principal’s office.” Mr. Clarke held up a pink slip.

“For what?” Eddie wondered aloud. He was rarely called to the principal’s office anymore. His mother used to do it a lot more when she made him go to doctor’s appointments every week.

“I have no idea. Take the slip and go now.” Mr. Clarke insisted. Eddie glanced back at Mike and Richie. They had identical looks of confusion and Richie shrugged.

Eddie walked through the hallway slowly, trying to prevent a panic attack. The only explanation for being called to the office would be something his mother wanted. He mentally kicked himself for not going downstairs to see her in the morning. Sneaking out the window was a mistake. Eddie suddenly got nervous that she was taking him out of school for good. She was going to homeschool him and never let him out of her sight.

When he got to the principal’s office, he was ushered in right away. The principal of the school was an older man named, Jon Filch. He was a stern man, who lost his son years ago. It was one of the children taken from Derry too soon. Eddie always felt awkward around him, but he got that way with most male authority figures.

“Hello, Edward,” Principal Filch said in an exhausted voice. “Had a nice long shouting match with your mother this morning.”

Eddie put his hands on his face in embarrassment. “I’m so so sorry. We are fighting, so she tends to um...take out her anger out on everyone but me.”

He ran a hand through his grey mustache nodding. “Yes, I remember fondly her yelling at me when I was a vice principal at your elementary school.”

“Again, I’m sorry.” Eddie averted his eyes to his hands.

“Edward, she wants to pull you from all your classes with Mr. Richard Tozier. And I think -”

Eddie's anger flared up and he immediately shouted, “What?! That’s completely crazy. We share every AP class together!” His breathing was picking up as his voice rose in pitch, “And not all of them have a second class available. You can’t just - “

Principal Filch raised his hands in defense, “Edward! Relax. You are going to give yourself a panic attack.”

“How do you know I get panic attacks?!” Eddie yelled louder, breathing erratically.

“You used to clearly get them as a child. Please, breathe. Let me speak.” He stated firmly. Eddie’s eyes flashed distrustfully. Most adults in this town could not be trusted but he held back his anger.

“Please sit.” Eddie glanced down and realized he was standing with his hands clenched. He slowly sank down into the seat.

“Contrary to popular belief, I tend to side with students when it comes to their education. You know yourselves better than your parents think.” He picked up a stress ball and handed it to Eddie. He reluctantly took it, letting his hands squeeze the ball methodically. “From my conversation with your mother, I gathered some kind of relationship is happening between Richard that she is not a fan of?”

Eddie pressed his thumb into the ball aggressively, refusing to give the older man his attention. He focused on his finger with the gold pinky ring Richie gave him for his birthday. It calmed him to look at it, thinking about how much he cared about Richie. He wished people would be more understanding of them. People being his mother. 

“It’s not anyone’s business but your own.” Eddie inspected him with scrutiny, not sure he heard him correctly.

“One of the best parts of life is that you get to pick your friends. And they pick you in return. You don’t get to choose your family but you do decide how you handle life’s challenges together.” Flinch held his gaze trying to get a proper read on Eddie. It made him anxious being put on the spot in this way. “I know a little something about overbearing mothers. When my wife and I lost our son…” His voice cracked and he tried to clear it. He grabbed a cup of water on the desk, drinking it.

“Your son was Hughie. Right?” Eddie said solemnly.

“That’s right.”

Eddie nodded thinking back to a boy, who was about the same height as him before he passed. With bright green irises and red hair like Beverly’s. “He invited me to all his birthdays since we were 5. He was really sweet.”

“Thank you. My son always thought you were cool with your inhaler and fanny pack. Don’t ask me why, he was an odd boy.” Principal Filch played with his thumbs for a moment thinking. Eddie handed back the stress ball, which Filch accepted gratefully. “Anyway, when we lost our son, my wife went into superhero Mom mood. It drove the kids and me crazy. She nearly killed herself with how much she was taking on through her pain.”

He held Eddie's gaze steadily trying to see if Eddie understood him. “My point is, you and your mother have had loss as well. I’m sure that grief has manifested into the woman she has become. You just need to try talking to her and if that doesn’t work or feel safe, please come speak to me or any of our counselors.”

Eddie soaked all this in with humility. He could not remember the last time an adult was truly this kind to him. Mrs. Tozier had come around but they started off rocky, leaving him wary of upsetting her. The principal barely knew him and actively cared about his well being. 

“Thank you. I’ll think about it. But what are going to do about my AP courses? I can’t drop them! I don’t want to get stuck in this town.” Eddie gave him an apologetic expression. He knew Principal Filch had lived in Derry his whole life.

He grinned knowingly, “I wouldn’t want that for you either. So what we are going to do is make sure you sit on opposite sides of the classes you cannot switch out of and switch you into the classes you can.”

“That is completely unfair!” Eddie protested. “How can you take her side like this?!”

“I am not taking her side. But it was the best compromise I could come up with that pleased her enough not to take you out of school entirely.” He seemed sincerely sorry but that did not stop Eddie from being angry.

“Fine. Give me the new class schedule.” Eddie demanded. “Please.” He added dismissively. Mr. Filch handed over the schedule. Eddie took it and read it over quickly. He would have homeroom with Bill and Beverly now, so that was not too bad. Richie and him now only shared 2 classes when they were in all 7 together.

He turned around and began marching out of the office. He was ready to be an asshole and not say goodbye, except he stopped himself.

“Thank you for what you said. Richie and I are having a hard time balancing family and our relationship so it means a lot to hear some kind of support from an adult.”

“Anytime, Edward.”

He considered him for a moment, “I prefer Eddie.”

“Anytime, Eddie."