#(and yes the answer is a faggot but not because he called a boy beautiful

[thisautistic]

me @ jeff: I know what you are...

[vidimillion]

“You're gonna have to get through me first, and you won't."

hi. i wrote a Jasico AU based off this quote. spent an hour and a half busting this thing out lol. might be part one? of me writing AUs based off quotes? idk yet. enjoy.

let's say it's a highschool mortal au

everyone knows jason grace as the ever-perfect golden boy, who never got less than an A on his tests and never lost a touchdown in a game of football (plus, gets every vote in student council elections)

and far less people know nico di angelo. everyone has heard of the psycho quiet kid who's still goth in 2020 and prone to starting fights. everyone's heard of that kid, but no one's heard of nico

everyone has also been viciously told to stay away from the guy. including jason.

so get this. one day during history class (one of jason's favourites, second only to art class), jason gets a phone call and excuses himself to answer it. no one knows what it was, but everyone in class was silently baffled when the bell rung and he still hadn't come back

meanwhile, nico's skipping class for whatever reason

surprise surprise they bump into each other in the halls. nico notices that something's off about jason's behavior. he seemed jumpy, made up two different excuses about what he was doing or where he was going. nico didn't know shit about jason except for his reputation, but something in his gut told him jason isn't all good right now.

nico thinks it may be related to how jason's sky blue eyes seem too grey to be perfectly fine

one of jason's excuses is that he just wanted to get a snack. nico lets him go but jason heads the opposite way, towards the exit doors instead of the vending machine

nico asks if he's gonna get a snack and jason yells back that he changed his mind

nico calls out to him, heads over to the vending machine and hits it's side. the glass face pops right up, exposing the snacks within

nico says offhandedly that percy once mentioned that jason likes twix bars. nico asks if that's true and before jason can confirm it nico grabs a twix and closes the face again

"don't rat me out for this, okay?" nico says, shoving the bar into jason's arms, "this is my one allotted good deed per day, and something's off about you."

nico begins to walk off, yelling at himself in his brain and shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. he doesn't see jason's ears go red or hear jason stutter out a "t-thanks."

the next day percy, a mutual friend of both jason and nico's, hands nico a twix bar and tells him jason told him to give it to him "as a thanks for yesterday"

wondering what nico did yesterday, percy bothers him about it all day but nico doesn't answer

it's a little while later when nico sees jason in the art room after school and stares a little. he'd never say it out loud but he thinks it's a little endearing to watch-- someone so tall and built hunched over a pad of paper, sketching away as he sticks his tongue out in concentration.

he thinks it's a little endearing, watching someone like jason, all tall and scary and serious-looking, look kind of cute

he doesn't realize he's no longer lingering in the hall until he trips over something nearly falls through the door of the art room

he catches jason's shocked eyes and sputters out an apology before moving to leave, but jason stops him

jason suddenly realizes that he doesn't have anything to say exactly. except, he knows he still wants the sweet but scary-looking mystery boy to stay. so that's what he asks him to do.

miraculously, nico ends up agreeing and now he's sat next to jason fucking grace. jason fuckin grace who does his best to continue his drawing but finds that nothing can expel the awkward air between them. not even his favourite activity

normally nico wouldn't give a fuck, just in general. normally, he wouldn't have even said yes to staying. but nico fuckin said yes and now he's gotta pay for that, apparently.

so, hesitantly, nico asks what jason's drawing

jason's face falls and nico scrambles to tell him that he doesn't have to answer that. that since they don't know each other nico isn't entitled to an answer, but even if they did know each other nobody is entitled to share something they may not wanna share, and now nico is rambling and saying that he should probably leave--

jason doesn't let him. jason wants him to stay and tells him that.

jason doesn't know why he wants nico to stay so bad. nico doesn't know what about jason is making him turn into a wreck.

except he does know, even a little

so nico stays and jason tells him that he's drawing a portrait of a cat. his cat, his beautiful cat named tempest who he's had since he was a kid. a gorgeous black turkish angora with brilliant blue eyes.

jason explains how, on the day he and nico had bumped into each other, jason had just gotten a call from his older sister that tempest had died.

and jason finds himself growing sad without his permission, and the feeling of the air around them has changed. nico is the only one around, and he can't comfort a person for shit.

he has to try though, because no one likes being stuck with a sad guy as their only company. and maybe nico feels weird at leaving a sad jason grace to stay sad

the grey returns to jason's sky-coloured eyes and nico doesn't really like it

so he can't comfort people for shit but he finds himself trying. somehow, something he says works.

unconsciously, things start to become a schedule. it starts slowly, bumping into each other in the halls and sometimes nico catches jason still drawing things

and it keeps going like that until they seem to be seeing each other every day. talking every day.

they talk about how nico doesn't like starting fights, but people start them with him and he's always the one to finish them. they talk about how the school activities jason's parents forced him into take more out of him then he lets on.

they didn't intend to get close. they didn't intend to become friends. but neither of them regret it

and additionally, they are always alone. with only each other for company. they didn't quite realize they liked it that way until they came to the art room once and there were still people there, hanging around after the events of rachel dare's school-sponsored art auction. so they move to the roof, and they like it better there.

(though nico will always complain about the heat of the sun, but jason knows nico doesn't mean it)

and one day jason gets there early. or either he's early or nico's late, because there never seems to be an exact time for... this. jason decides to wait and nico still isn't there. he waits a little longer, and then a little longer, until the sun has beaten down on him so hard jason thinks he might've gotten a sunburn

begrudgingly, he decides to return downstairs. before he can decide whether or not he should just leave or look for nico, he hears a commotion down the hall.

jason rounds the corner and doesn't know what he expected. though he didn't expect the group of boys, crowding around someone. and without knowing who it is, jason's blood already begins to boil as he hears the words they're saying

"you're such a fucking freak." one says. "what are you, a fucking faggot?" another spits. and then one goes to shove the boy in the middle, and as the smaller figure topples to the ground, jason sees familiar black hair and black eyes.

jason's vision goes red.

before he even realizes, he'd stalked over and pushed the boys out of the way. he turned his back to nico, doing his best to cover him as he growls at them.

"If you want to fuck with him, you're gonna have to get through me first, and you won't."

[inctlife]

Sunshine | T ~ Sonny

genre: fluff

summary: in which, since an early age, you knew Sonny wasn’t entirely straight

age: Sonny = 4-16 / Baby = 2-14 / Moon = 1-13

warnings: homophobic slurs

___

2028 (4 years old)

“Mummy! Look at me!” Sonny exclaimed, twirling into the living room.

You looked up from playing with your daughters to see your son, dressed in his cousin’s hand-me-down princess dress and matching heels, your lipstick perfectly painted on his lips.

His dad twirled in after him, also wearing your heels and your lipstick.

“Ten, take off my heels, you’re gonna stretch them!” you exclaimed.

Ten raised his eyebrows, “sure I am.”

You shook your head, laughing, “shut up.”

“Mummy! Don’t I look beautiful?” Sonny asked, blowing a kiss in your direction.

“The prettiest person I have ever seen!” you exclaimed, getting up and going over to him as Ten took of your shoes before going to see what his daughters were doing.

Sonny was giggling, showing off his dress as you came closer.

“You don’t ever change, okay, Sunshine?” you said, your four-year-old nodding, a big, shining smile on his face, “you’re so pretty.”

2031 (7 years old)

“Daddy,” Sonny called, walking into your’s and Ten’s room.

Ten hummed from where he was on the bed, drawing different designs in his notebook.

“Yeah, baby?”

“What should I wear to the school dance?” Sonny asked, playing with the blanket on the end of your bed.

“Why don’t we go and have a look, hmm?” Ten asked, getting up and wrapping his arm around his son, “what about those flowery boots Aunty got you, hmm? Those are cool.”

“Oh! And my flower leather jacket!” Sonny exclaimed.

Ten laughed, “you have style, baby boy. You really do.”

2033 (9 years old)

“Well who do you have a crush on?” Sonny said.

You knew you shouldn’t, but you were walking past and the voices were spilling out the door, it was almost impossible to ignore.

“I think Harry’s really cute,” Sonny’s friend, Esther, giggled.

Sonny laughed, “I like Joe more! Joe is so good looking!”

“He is! He could be a model,” Sonny’s friend said.

You looked at Ten with widened eyes as Ten just rolled his, going to answer the door.

“Esther! Your mum’s here!” Ten called.

Esther sighed over-dramatically, you quickly scrambling away from the door as the two of them came out, Sonny hugging his friend goodbye.

“Sunshine,” you said, as your son went to go back in his room, “you know it’s okay if you like boys.”

“Yeah.”

“I mean, liking them in a romantic way,” you added.

Sonny nodded, shrugging, “yeah.”

You looked up at Ten, confused, as Sonny shut his bedroom door behind him.

“Really subtle,” Ten whispered, giving you a sarcastic thumbs up, “you’re doing really well.”

2034 (10 years old)

“You must be Sonny’s mum and dad,” Sonny’s teacher smiled, “nice to meet you, I’m Kim Yerin.”

“I’m Ten,” Ten said, shaking her hand.

“I’m Y/N,” you smiled, shaking her hand as you sat down.

“So, for starters, Sonny is doing very well in terms of his learning,” Yerin nodded, “just where we expect him to be at this point.”

You nodded, having already heard all of this.

“Are there any concerns from the pair of you?” the teacher inquired.

You both looked at each other and shook your heads.

“Not particularly,” you said, “we trust Sonny would tell us if anything was wrong.”

Yerin nodded, “of course, he’s a good kid. I do have a worry that he doesn’t get on with lots of the other boys in his year. Obviously, his ‘cousins’ are all very friendly with each other, but maybe it would be good to get him involved in boyish activities? Like football!”

You laughed nervously, looking to your husband as his eyes rolled slightly.

“We’ve tried him with things like that,” Ten smiled passive-aggressively, “Sonny is a boy who has already learned, in his very short life, that being a boy is not defined by your interests. He has friends who he likes and who like him, and no one is concerned about it.”

You put your hand on his thigh, smiling slightly.

“I see,” Yerin nodded, stunned at Ten’s response, “why don’t we talk about how he is in class?”

2036 (12 years old)

“You’re not nervous at all?” you asked, “not even a tiny bit?”

Your son shook his head, his small hands braiding your hair.

He sighed, “I mean, maybe a little bit? But I’ll be fine.”

You nodded, “of course you will.”

Sonny laughed, “I always am. I am reliable in being fine.”

You laughed, kissing his son’s head, “too damn right you are. You will be completely fine, wherever you go in life. Mmkay?”

“Mum, I know,” Sonny said, his eyes rolling over-dramatically, mimicking a very familiar face to one of his dad’s.

2038 (14 years old)

“Mum, Dad, this is Changsoo,” Sonny said, smiling proudly, “my boyfriend.”

Changsoo bowed slightly, the pair of you smiling at him, shocked.

“Sonny, you...” Ten started.

“Hmm?” Sonny said, “what?”

“Are you gay?” Ten asked.

Sonny laughed, “Dad, is that a question? What do you think?”

You chuckled, “I mean, I’m not that surprised.”

“But, Changsoo isn’t out yet,” Sonny said.

“Neither were you,” Baby said.

“Come on, don’t act dumb, you all knew and were just being cowards,” Sonny said, putting his hands on Changsoo’s shoulders, “now we’re going to my bedroom.”

“Same rules! Door open!” you exclaimed.

“Mother!” Sonny whisper-yelled over-dramatically before laughing and turning back to Changsoo.

You chuckled, shaking your head as you turned back to Ten, “I mean, that’s one way to tell us.”

2040 (16 years old)

“Sunshine! How was your last day of—“

“Just fuck off! Did I say I wanted you to speak to me?!” Sonny yelled, turning back around after his outburst and walking up to his room.

“Sonny! You can’t just—“ Ten started, going to walk after his son.

“Something happened,” you said, grabbing his arm, “don’t yell at him, that’s not what he needs right now.”

“Some smartass went and wrote faggot on his back,” Baby said, walking in and slamming the front door behind her, “Changsoo broke up with him because of it and everyone was laughing, the whole way home.”

You sighed, looking up at the ceiling to stop yourself from crying, “oh my god.”

“We’ll give it a moment and then I’ll go and speak to him,” Ten said, “girls, how was your day?”

“Go and speak to him, Dad,” Moon said.

Ten nodded, turning around, “will do that.”

“Sonny?” Ten called gently, knocking on the door, “can I come in?”

“Fuck off,” Sonny said.

“Bold words,” Ten nodded, “please? I know what happened.”

“So what? You’re gonna laugh at me too?” Sonny spat.

“Sonny, you know I’d never laugh at you,” Ten sighed, “please let me come in.”

“Fine, whatever.”

Ten sighed in relief, opening the door just so he could slide in before shutting it again.

“What?” Sonny spat as Ten rolled his eyes.

“Stop being stroppy, Sunshine. It’s not you,” Ten said, “look, just because some people ruined your day, doesn’t mean it has to change your entire personality!”

“This isn’t just some people ruining my day, Dad!” Sonny exclaimed, “yeah, there are some dickheads in my year and they wrote faggot on my shirt and they taunted me, sure. But it wasn’t just ruining my day!”

Sonny took a deep breath, sitting up and looking his dad straight in the eyes, “Dad, I– I was scared. I was legitimately scared for my life. I’ve seen people been beaten up before and I was thinking, dear God what if that’s gonna be me? That’s all I was thinking. I was so scared.”

By this time, there were tears running down both Sonny’s and Ten’s face. Ten walked towards his son, crouching down in front of him and placing his hands on his thighs.

“Do you know what I’ve always thought about gay people? Or anyone in the LGBT for that matter,” Ten asked.

Sonny sniffled, his voice quiet, “what?”

“That they are incredibly brave. Braver than our marines.”

Sonny laughed, looking away slightly, before Ten put his hand on his son’s face, making him look at his dad.

“Because, yes the LGBT community is thriving and you have many supporters!” Ten went on, “But for everyone who supports LGBT, there’s about three that don’t.”

Sonny nodded, sighing slightly.

“Just coming out is the bravest thing you can do,” Ten nodded, “and I just want you to be safe and comfortable in life, you know that right? And I can’t always protect you, but I can at least try, as long as you tell me what happens. Don’t get stroppy. Please, please tell me.”

Sonny nodded, “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be, Sunshine,” Ten sighed, pulling his son into a hug, “I was just worried. So’s your mother.”

“She always is,” Sonny chuckled, making Ten laugh as well.

“Alright now?” Ten asked, “we’ll throw away that shirt if you want.”

Sonny shook his head, showing off the word ‘faggot’ written all over the back, “I like it. It gives a warning to people who don’t know me.”

Ten laughed as he watched his son skip out his bedroom, “my god, Sunshine. You’re gonna be the death of me.”

[fingerguneds]

hi! could I ask for some stozier fluff, like, stan and richie go grocery shopping ( not established relationship but they both like each other a whole lot ) 💞 thanks!

heyy

thank you very much for your ask, i fucking loved working on this, hope you don’t mind my loose interpretation of your prompt..

_

Stanley doesn’t like grocery shopping. He hates it, actually: it’s stressful, it’s always about letting people bother you somehow, and it’s totally not worth it when there’s food delivery.

But newsflash sweetie, it’s New Year’s Eve and all the closest shops are bombarded with orders. He can’t even imagine a worse case of spending the last few hours of 2019th, maybe with an exception of having to be with his parents, but whatever. It’s still bad.

So there he is, with bananas, blueberries and two bottles of white dessert wine in his cart he’s sure gonna suck in all alone in his sitting room later this evening, deciding on whether he needs another head of brie cheese, when he notices a familiar mop of black curly hair by the cereal stand.

There’s no way he wouldn’t recognize Richard Tozier from the communication and design department. He’s one of the loudest, brightest and most charmingly gorgeous people in their company, and if Stan ever tells you he hasn’t been having a huge, fat crush on him for the last few months, he’d be the ugliest, most pathetic liar.

He’s a good liar, though. He’s excellent at ignoring his fluttering heart every time Richie walks in their department to share a word with Eddie Kaspbrak, the most pleasant coworker of Stan’s in his personal opinion, or casting his best cold-eye when at parties they accidentally end up sharing a table and the guy, because he’s actually nice to everyone, tries to start an odd conversation about broken vending machines on the first floor or the fucking weather.

Why? Because Stan’s a pussy. He’s already really, really attracted to this black-haired mess of a person, with his ridiculously dark eyes with stupidly long lashes on a damn weird face one wouldn’t call pretty, because of that big nose, covered in bright specks of freckles that burn on cool paleness of his skin, or large, red and plump-lipped mouth; but would totally still define as beautiful, because those eyes are not just dark — they’re the colour of reddish pine bark after it’s been raining for hours; because that skin is not just pale — it’s like absolutely white marble with rare blue veins in all the rightest places of the man’s slender body; because his features, although weird and uncommon, somehow create a loud and charismatic pattern that attracts an eye, that makes you want to look, to inspect, to...admire.

And that’s what Stan’s been doing. Admiring from afar, because he’s a coward, too sensitive to let someone this loveable, loud and easy-going in. He’s too protective over his heart, he doesn’t take risks, he’s too fragile for his own good, and one more thing — even though Stanley secretly thinks he’s better than everyone, there is no way someone like Richie would want to do anything with him. He’s the most adorable with everyone, that’s in his nature, and thank god Stan smart enough to know that and to be aware that he’s not special — that Richie flirts with anyone, holds the door for every goddamn person in the office, checks up on every other stranger in an elevator, and although this still makes Stan’s dick ridiculously hard, he also almost dies on the spot when Richie turns his head a little bit and after a moment of surprise breaks into a grin. Stan, like a good goddamn liar he is, shoots him a quick nod of recognition, throws the bloody cheese into his cart with a bored expression and decides to get the fuck out of this place before his heart decides to break his ribcage into pieces. As calm and collected Stanley Uris is on the outside, he’s just as chaotic and messy on the inside.

He walks towards the end of an aisle as casual but fast as possible, as if his feet are on fire but he’s used to it (which is true, metaphorically speaking), and just when he’s ready to hide from Richie behind another row, something much, much more terrible than bumping into your big fat crush slash occasional wet dream happens to him.

“Stan!”

His heart drops down to his feet, when he recognizes the voice. He keeps walking forward, hoping for an earthquake, a sudden alien invasion, The Judgment Day — anything to save him from this most unwanted encounter, but of course nothing happens. A big tenacious hand still grabs his forearm, making him stop and turn, and this face Stan’s been successfully avoiding for the past couple years still appears in front of him, unchanged and familiar as ever.

Patrick.

See, he maybe wouldn’t be afraid of talking to Richie and making friends with him and maybe even going for more, if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s been in a relationship with one extremely toxic and emotionally abusive man, and although Stan knows all these things, he knows he only terrorized him because he’s an awful person, not Stan, he still—can’t not be affected.

Who in the hell’s gonna love a needy Jewish nerd with a fucked-up brain and a shit ton of insecurities, earned throughout his not-so-bright pathetic faggot life?

Only Patrick, with his huge, kind heart and a perverted kink for losers, lucky for Stan: shaming people for what they are first, than pressing further, and finishing up with messing them up completely.

“Oh, hi, Patrick” Stan says casually, shoulders relaxed, body weight kept on one leg, yet one hand clinging the cart’s holder so tight his fingers turn purple, the other one in a fist, nails professionally breaking the delicate skin of Stan’s palm. “Long time no see.”

Leaving your ass all those years ago is still one of my biggest accomplishments, asshole.

Patrick’s eyes sparkle wickedly and his lips break into a wolfish smirk. Stanley finally notices he’s not alone: to the right there stands a blond man, not tall, seemingly muscular, small blue piggish eyes squinting at him with an alarming amount of hatred. Just what the fuck.

“How rude of me, this is Dean, by the way,” he says, showing up their intertwined fingers. Stan doesn’t feel jealous or envious, to his own pleasure, but he does feel this wholesome wave of bitterness. Assholes shouldn’t get away with all the nasty things they do and then proceed to live their nasty lives like nothing happened, while people they leave crippled and broken still suffer with their demons.

Stan won’t give him the satisfaction. He breaths in and smiles politely.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” he says, totally aware that although he’s the lonely one here, he’s still prettier and, dare he say, smarter than that Dean guy. His mug...his mug is for sure a God’s creation, but boy, did he decide to go off with this one? Yes. And absolutely nothing says mind in those little dirty-blue pools of anger he has for eyes. He looks like someone who would tattoo their first lover’s name on their bicep. And make tik-toks in their truck.

“Nice set,” Patrick, the fucker, senses Stanley’s dominating vibe and makes another elegant attempt to ruin everything he’s been building up. “Here alone?”

Okay, alright, it’s gonna be tough at the beginning, but at least he’s not holding some Dean’s sweaty stupid hand—

“Love, I only found buckwheat pasta, it all must be taken already,” and now it’s time for the third thing to make Stanley discover a lot of new white hairs tomorrow in front of the mirror. Thank God he’s not dark-haired.

Like Richie fucking Tozier, who appears literally out of nowhere, with a pack of fucking buckwheat pasta in his hand, the kindest, warmest look in his eyes behind huge coke-bottle glasses he (of course) rocks the shit out, and a smile Stan’s sure gonna jerk off to for days.

“We could drive to Tesco if you wanna—“ he starts in another attempt to silently offer Stanley a helping hand, but cuts himself off. “Oh, I’m sorry, do I know you?” he turns to face Patrick and Dean with a ridiculous replica of Stanley’s own polite smile, and if Stan wouldn’t be this honest-to-god shocked, he’d definitely laugh at the sight of it.

Patrick looks...scandalized in the most precious way.

“It’s Patrick,” Stan says, thankfully without a tremble in his voice. “We used to date a long time ago. And this is...um, Dean, right?”

“Yeah,” Patrick nods, seemingly taken aback. “My current boyfriend.”

“Oh, my pleasure!” Richie exclaims, grinning widely. “Honoured to meet my man’s old friends,” Stan almost chokes at this, but suddenly there’s someone’s strong hand sliding on his waist, and a solid body, pressing against his side. “I’m Richie by the way, Stanley’s current boyfriend.”

An uncomfortable silence hangs then between the four of them, until Patrick licks his lips in a predatory way, and nods again.

“Alright, we better keep going. It was nice to see you, Stan, have fun,” he almost spits out the last words, and him and Dean quickly leave, just like a mirage Stanley would rather forget forever.

But not the hand, still holding him tight.

“You okay?” Richie murmurs then quietly into Stan’s ear, sending warm shivers down his body. Stan hopes his coat is thick enough for Richie to not hear how embarrassingly rapid his heartbeat currently is.

“Yeah,” he answers, nodding. As much as he hates to do this, he takes a step back, which allows him to look at Richie closely for the first time in his life.

And God he’s handsome.

“I’m—“ Stanley asks, but Richie cuts him off.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and although his eyes are still pleasantly concerned, his lips curve into a small guilty smile. “I didn’t want to spy on you, I just overheard that asshole—shit, sorry, I didn’t mean—“

“No, he is an asshole,” Stanley shrugs, still lying to Richie and himself. Lying that his body’s not still on fire, his brains are not melting into disgustingly sweet puddles of adoration, his palms are not sweaty and his throat is not drier than Sahara. “And thank you for...helping me out, I guess? You really didn’t have to do that.”

Richie looks at him with something Stanley can’t really understand in his eyes, and his smile widens, revealing two big front teeth one would call funny, but Stan honest to god finds them adorable. Like the rest of Richie, really. There’s no point in denying this, he’s gone.

“I know,” he says, and his voice is low, with a slight edge. “I just, I thought there’s no better time than the present, you know, and instead of making another New Year resolution I’m going to ignore, I could give myself a chance right here and right now,” the apples of his cheeks turn an impossibly lovely shade of pink, and Stanley wants to slap himself for being such a slut for this man. He collects himself without a flinch and finally pays attention to Richie’s words and frowns.

“I beg your pardon?”

Richie keeps blushing deeper and deeper in shade.

“Well, you see, there’s that adorable Hebrew in my friend Eddie’s department that I’ve been trying to court for months, but he’s either too dense to notice it, or it’s me who’s dense and is just too preoccupied to take “no” as an answer, you know? So I’ve decided to go off in 2020 and...basically crack my ass to make that boy be more clear, yeah? Because I’m crushing like crazy stupid, you have no idea,” by the end of his ramble, his face is fully red, and fortunately for him, he’s not the only one looking like a basic white tourist after seven hours under Egyptian sun without a hat.

“Did you,” Stan mewls, voice finally breaking like a bitch, but nevertheless, his chin is up and he’s professionally acting like he doesn’t look as pathetic as Richie. “Did you just call me dense while hitting on me?”

“Yeah,” Richie breathes out, and his smile is so sunny, and warm, and relieved that Stan can’t help but smile back, rolling his eyes nevertheless, because he’s what? Still a good liar. “Did it work?”

***

It definitely did, Stanley thinks two hours later, sitting in Richie’s barstool with a glass of wine in one hand, watching the other man cook that bloody buckwheat pasta and listening to his absolutely endearing unstoppable ramble about his secret passion for cooking and not-so-secret passion for Stanley. He really, really doesn’t give a shit about embarrassing himself, Stan realizes somewhere after the words “I got shitfaced and ugly-cried for hours at that party when you left the table exactly thirty seconds after I tried to initiate a conversation with you.”

It definitely did, Richie thinks in the next morning, waking up with Stanley’s curls in his mouth, his back pressed against Richie’s chest and their bodies wrapped around each other under lazy January sun.

_

i have to say i’m not a huge fan of fake/pretend relationship trope but this specific um turn of events when character a is in an embarrassingly lonely situation against their ex and character b abruptly decides to save the day and then they end up together for real...is the shit

[byler-n-harringrove]

Broken fingers || Byler Au

I felt so compelled to this amazing prompt - please feel free to send in your own requests because personally I don’t have many ideas atm haha, I need a little help!! I am also a little rusty with my byler writing, so plz bare with me!! Thank you guys so much xx I love you all!!

Prompt: Do you do requests?? Cause I was thinking of a story where Lonnie comes over to the Byers residence in a drunk rage and slams the door on Will’s fingers breaking one of them. So he either goes to Mike’s or Mike comes over and they just cuddle and cry 😭😭😭

Warnings: violence, swearing (bigotry)

______

It had all been a blur in the beginning.

Pain did that, blurred your other 4 senses as your mind became foggy with the shooting of pain through your blood - like some type of rabid disease with no intention of stopping. The pain grasped to Will’s fragile frame, claws digging in with no surrender in sight.

He was sure they were broken, the way the bones sat pointed and tilted outwards in odd directions didn't look normal. But there hadn't been much the teen could do at the time then run away, blinded by haste and poker-hot pain. How Lonnie, his oh so lovely father, had gotten into his family's beloved house was beyond him, and the youngest Byers was lucky enough to walk in - alone - to a rather red faced and staggering man who had a bone to pick.

Will had been trying to close his bedroom door ( it was his natural reaction when anything threatened him - to go into his room and shut the door), but Lonnie had followed him, hitting multiple walls along the way. There was a squabble, and Will really wasn't the strongest of children.

The crunching of his fingers as the door sandwiched the violently made Will want to throw up.

Pain destoryed the next moments - he had cried out, Lonnie has backed off and left him finally, muttering about how his son was a faggot and so - and all Will knew in that moment he needed to run. Run away, get to somewhere safe. But where was that? It was second nature, though, to answer that thought with one name.

Mike’s house.

The frail and pale boy’s heart shook at the idea. He had always felt safe in that cosy basement, curled up diligently beside his one and only crush - Mike Wheeler. It was close to hero worship at this point, he would blindly follow Mike to the end of time if it meant that Mike would give him a smile and let him hold his hand.

-

The bike ride over was what Will felt hell would feel like - he didn't trust himself to use one hand to ride - and he found himself hoping that Mike even had the smallest amount of knowledge on first aid. The sun had finally made the hill its grave, the crappy pee yellow street lights on the main roads the only guide he had.

He had to push through - to get to Mike, to feel safe, to feel loved.

The milenia it took to get to Mike’s house finally reached its end as he flung his bike to the ground unforgivingly in his pained haste. The noise of the bike meeting the grass made him cringe, but the reminder of his broken fingers only brought more pain.

He didn't know where his face began and his tears started as he knocked erratically on the Wheeler’s front door. Will didn't have to wait long, luckily, before the eccentric wooden door was heaved open by a familiar mop of dark brunette hair - those beautiful caramel eyes instantly made Will want to crumple in his arms and sob.

And that's what he did.

“Hey Will- Ahh! What's wrong!?” the spangly teenager squeaked awkwardly as Will flung himself into his arms with blatant disregard.

“Who's at the door Mike!?” “It's just Will! We’re going downstairs, don't bother us!” Mike didn't know what was wrong, but seeing Will cry so freely made his stomach drop and his heart stutter with fear.

What the fuck had happened?

Will sniffled and whimpered as they descended the stairs into their lair, the basement. Wills second home - besides castle Byers, but that was different - was already starting to have an effect on his nerves. Lonnie wasn't here, he wasn't going to get to him and sure as hell wasn't going to be breaking anymore of his ‘girly’ fingers.

“Are you going to tell my whats wrong?’ Mike asked, doing his best to sound sympathetic - of course he was, but the anxiety of not knowing things often made him sound snappy and impatient.

The smaller teen was unable to meet Mike’s eyes now, and wordlessly extended his hand that had been cradled to his chest. The fingers were distorted awkwardly - Will didn't want to look at them again or he felt like he was actually going to throw up or pass out. They were his fingers - his father had done this to him. His. Father.

“S-Shit!” Mike cursed loudly, eyes wide.

Without another word, he quickly darted off to the small toilet off the basement. He ripped the rickedy medicine cabinet open and quickly grabbed the first aid kit they used for emergencies. Fuck - this was more then a emergency. This was Will, his Will.

When he returned, Mike quickly guided the other teen towards their sofa. Will’s cheeks were red and blotchy, eyes slightly swollen as he sniffled and whined at the pain of his fingers. The taller teen broke out the bandages and something to make some splints from (his parents had forced him to take a first aid course - not that he would tell anyone that) and hesitantly inspected the 3 fingers.

“Who did this?” Mikes voice almost struck fear in Will.

“U-umm… L-lonnie..” He was too tired to be berraded by Mike until he finally told him - it was easier to give up now.

The next 10 minutes were in silent besides the quiet cries of Mike moving his bones to try and set them ( yes, he wasn't a doctor - but Will repeatedly told him they couldn't go. There were already too many issues surrounding his family as it was) and Mike muttering soft praises and encouragements to keep him conscious and as calm as possible.

“Here - this'll help the pain” Mike had fetched some water from upstairs - no mum, we don't need any food. yes mum, he's fine - and offered Will (who had finally stopped crying) some panadol to help.

Will sniffled again, taking the water and panadol before muttering a soft thank-you as Mike sat down beside him. The couch was warm - their bodies sat close together as Will was finally starting to calm down from the rush of emotions and adrenaline that ran through is small body. It was too much, and it had honestly tired him out.

“Your staying tonight, by the way. Before you say anything, my mum says its fine and she’ll call your mum. We can watch movies - your choice of course” Mike all but ordered his friend, standing again without a moment's notice to get some of the spare blankets and pillows from the corner of the room.

The smallest teen could only muster a nod - muttering something about the 2nd Star Wars movie - and found himself curling his knees into his chest. Will just wanted, no he need, some hugs. He needed to be held - loved, smothered until he was no longer the touch starved teen he was now.

Mike - who Will was sure was his guardian angel - finally settle back down on the couch and layered the cozy blankets around them along with some comfy pillows. It was like a mother making a nest for its young - and Will seemed all but oblivious to Mike’s reddening cheeks as he slipped into the warmth besides him, their sides touching with soft zaps of passionate electricity.

“C-can…” Wil stuttered, capturing Mike's undivided attention “Can we hug?” If Will could get and redder they would never know, but the question honestly made him want the floor to open up and swallow him whole.

It was silent for a moment before Mike stuttered out a small “Y-yea,” before wrapping his spindily limbs arounder Wills slightly shaking frame and holding him close.

Will was in euphoria.

As the movie started, Will felt the panadol slowly starting to kick in - seeping into his bloodstream and numbing the throbbing pain within his fingers. The small teen slowly found himself leaning his head on Mike’s shoulder, eyes drooping as he focused on Mike’s radiating warmth and the small circles he rubbed on Will’s upper arm.

“I won't let anyone ever hurt you again, Will. Never” Mike promised Will with sheer determination in his voice as the youngest finally slipped off into sleep - finally feeling safe and secure wrapped in blankets, in the arms of the person he loved most.

[badwolfwrites-sometimes]

Drawn Together: Chapter 13

!!WARNING!! This chapter includes slurs and homophobia, please proceed with caution.

Artisloveandlife: Ludwig I have a question Artisloveandlife: Do zombies get smarter after they eat a human brain?

Feliciano had no idea why he was asking that kind of question to a person he met yesterday. He has been cleaning the kitchen, as one does, when it suddenly popped into his head.

'Well, nothing in my life makes sense anymore so it's fine.' He thought, but quickly snapped out of his daze as Antonio entered with Lovino.

"I can't believe you got Feli to clean up the kitchen. This day is going down in history!" Lovino said, throwing his arms in the air as if he was thanking God for this blessing.

Antonio kissed his cheek. "He's doing a very good job at it, be nicer to him." Lovino almost chocked at that comment.

Feliciano chose not to comment anything on it and instead handed Lovino a deck brush, daring to suggest his brother actually does some work. "You're always telling me to be useful, set me a good example." He smiled before receiving a smack to his shoulder. "Ow!"

"Sassy bastard!" Lovino said, but grabbed the brush anyway. If Feliciano wants him to work, he's going to work and he'll work better than anyone.

That being said, it took him less than a minute to give up and pass the brush to Romeo, who had the unfortunate luck to show up in a very unfortunate moment. "Nonno'll be here any second and you're much faster than me." Is the reasoning Romeo got behind this sudden job. This meant that everyone, aside from Lovino, had something to do.

It was around 9 p. m. when they were finished with the chores, and just on time it seems.

"My boys! Where are you? Come greet your old grandpa!" A deep melodic voice sounded off from the hall, just as the three of them sat down. The youngest two were, naturally, the first to sprint towards their grandpa. He couldn't lift them up as he used to, but it didn't bother them much.

"Nonno!" Feliciano squeeled, glad to have him home finally.

"How was the trip, Nonno? Did you bring us presents?" Romeo asked, cuddling close to the old man still breathing with life.

"Meo, that's rude." Feliciano remarked.

"I did ask how the trip went first." Romeo defended.

Their grandpa just laughed the whole thing off, glad that his boys never change. His eyes scanned around for Lovino, finding him standing by the doorframe, looking quite uncertain. He smiled to his eldest grandson before turning his attention back to the two in front of him. "Now, now. Don't fight over such silly things. Of course I brought presents for my lovely boys."

Both Romeo's and Feliciano's eyes glowed, going back to hug their grandpa much stronger this time, just as Feliciano felt his phone vibrate, reminding him of the happiness of this moment. They finally let their grandpa free to check for presents.

"Welcome home, Mr. Vargas." Antonio greeted, joining Lovino by the doorframe.

"Oh, Toni. I didn't know you are here as well. And cut the formality already, just call me Grandpa Rome." Grandpa Rome said, shaking Antonio's hand and patting him on the shoulder, before turning his attention to Lovino. "Lovi, my beautiful boy, come give your grandpa a hug." He said and pulled the reluctant Lovino in for a hug. "You look worried, did the dinner come out bad? You know your grandpa will eat anything you boys make, isn't that right?"

Lovino laughed. He needed that, even if that wasn't what has been bothering him. "Yeah... You always ate our weird shit." He said.

"That's right." Grandpa Rome smiled. "Now chin up and fix your language, my boy." And the three of them left for the kitchen.

Grandpa Rome told them all kinds of stories on the dinner table, entertaining them as they ate, but Feliciano could sense a weird vibe from Lovino. The one he usually felt just as Lovino was about to break down and cry. And he wasn't the only one who could feel it. Antonio had been secretly holding Lovino's hand underneath the table this whole time.

"You know, you wouldn't believe how full of faggots Europe is." Grandpa Rome said, startling the four of them. "At this point, you can't even walk down the street without running into one of them."

Feliciano's eyes immediately raced towards Lovino. Lovino just looked down at his plate, silently begging his grandpa to stop. It was all so wrong. Even Romeo sensed something wasn't quite right and he had no idea what was going on. Silence fell upon them.

Antonio chose to break it first. "You know Mr. Vargas, that's not really a nice word." He looked unsure, the moment those words left his mouth he regretted them.

Grandpa Rome gave him a side eye and Feliciano knew it was all going to go downhill from now on, yet he spoke. "Toni's right. We're all human and we should be respectful of each other." Feliciano wasn't known for his courage much, but this was different. This was about his brother.

Grandpa Rome kept quiet, taking a few bites of his dinner before so obviously deciding he didn't like it anymore. "Is there something you want to tell me, Feli?" He finally spoke, his words harsh and crushing Lovino's heart.

Feliciano just shook his head, offering one final glance towards Lovino before he let his head fall down to look at his hands. He shouldn't have done that, because as soon as he looked at Lovino, Grandpa Rome noticed. Romeo really wanted to excuse himself by this point.

As he felt deep chocolate brown eyes staring deeply into his soul, Lovino looked back at them, tears already welling up in his hazel eyes. Can this be over already? He stared into his grandpa's eyes for what felt like ages, before Grandpa Rome spoke. "And you, Lovi? What do you have with the faggots?"

Lovino doesn't break the eye contact, but it was Antonio who answered. "We're together. Me and Lovi, we're dating." Lovino wasted no time in running away from the table. The secret was out, his life was over.

Grandpa Rome stared at Antonio in a way that made Feliciano and Romeo want to sink further down in their seats. Their grandpa never looked at anyone like that. "My own grandson..."  Grandpa Rome said in utter disbelief before getting up and walking towards Antonio who stood up. "I expected more from him. I expected more from you, Antonio." His voice was coated in disgust.

Antonio kept his stare firm on Grandpa Rome's eyes, his face serious. "Then you shouldn't have made him so perfect." Antonio said calmly, but he was more afraid than ever before.

Feliciano clutched his phone, hoping Lovino or Ludwig or Elizabeta or anyone would send him a text to let him know everything will be fine. Because right now, everything wasn't fine. Romeo held Feliciano's yellow sweater, hoping the same as he drew himself closer to his brother.

"Get out." Grandpa Rome said. "Get out and don't you dare come back to this house again, Antonio!" He shoved Antonio aside and left the kitchen, the three of them hoping he wouldn't go find Lovino.

Feliciano tore away from Romeo, running towards Antonio for a hug. His heart was breaking as he felt Antonio tremble under his arms, but he still lifted his hands to pet Feliciano's brown hair.

"I'm sorry, Toni." Feliciano whispered. Romeo left his seat to join the hug. "I'm really sorry." Feliciano said.

Antonio smiled, his eyes betraying his real emotion, but refused to let Feliciano and Romeo see them. He had to keep his tears for himself. "Take good care of him for me, will you both?" He asked.

They both nodded and Antonio broke the hug, making his way out of the house. As he did, he stopped and looked up towards Lovino's room, no doubt thinking that's where Lovino most likely run off to. He whispered something before leaving, not looking back. Feliciano could swear on his entire art career that Antonio's final words before leaving were directed towards Lovino. A silent 'I love you.'

Feliciano and Romeo cuddled up on the couch. They could only wait now for either Lovino or Grandpa Rome to come back down now.

"I had no idea..." Romeo whispered.

Feliciano nodded. "I found out accidentally. It wasn't supposed to come out like this." He said. "Sorry for not telling you, Lovi told me to keep it quiet."

"I get it." Romeo wiped at something close to his eye and Feliciano begged the world it wasn't a tear. "This is a bad place for being gay. If it was elsewhere in the world, I would have thrown a coming out party."

Feliciano laughed. "If it was elsewhere, we'd get to watch Lovi get so drunk we'd have to carry him back to his room."

"He'd be less grumpy too."

"That's Lovi, he's always grumpy." Feliciano said, dwelling deep into his thoughts. "Now that you mention it, he seemed a lot more happier these past few days that he spent with Toni."

Romeo was silent.

"I wish they could be happy forever." Feliciano commented, finally allowing himself to cry. Oh, how he needed to cry.

After a while, Romeo had enough of waiting and went up to his room to get his mind off everything that happened that night. Feliciano completely understood, he wanted to run away to his room as well, but doing that would only make Grandpa Rome angrier. At least his battery wasn't completely drained.

For the first time that night, Feliciano read Ludwig's message.

Lutzie71: Logically yes, but in practice no.

Artisloveandlife: Hahahahahahah Artisloveandlife: Thanks i needed that

It was well past midnight, Feliciano didn't expect a response from Ludwig anytime soon, but once he started climbing the stairs back to his room, his phone vibrated.

Lutzie71: I hope you are alright, whatever it is.

Somehow, those few words from a stranger meant more to Feliciano than anything his closest friends ever said to him. It could be that the situation was really tough and he needed some assurance, or he just didn't have friends who cared much. It didn't matter, he just needed those words.

Artisloveandlife: Thank you Artisloveandlife: Im alright but my brother isnt Artisloveandlife: And i want to help but i dont know how

Lutzie71: Sometimes just being by their side is enough Lutzie71: My brother used to read to me whenever I upset Lutzie71: Maybe something similar could help

Artisloveandlife: Id sneak into his bedroom when i had nightmares and sleep with him Artisloveandlife: Hed be mad at me but then he would tell me that its all going to be okay and that he ll protect me

Lutzie71: Maybe this time you should be the one to protect him

Artisloveandlife: Thank you Ludwig Artisloveandlife: Also sorry for not answering for a while  Artisloveandlife: We ve been cleaning all day and then the whole thing with my brother happened it was a crazy day

Lutzie71: It is alright Lutzie71: I don't mind waiting

Artisloveandlife: You didnt stay glued to the phone all this tine waiting for my reply did you ??

Lutzie71: You can't prove anything

Artisloveandlife: Your so cute Artisloveandlife: You re*

Lutzie71: You learn quickly

Artisloveandlife: I was a str8 A student Artisloveandlife: Jk i failed math Artisloveandlife: But i lived

Lutzie71: Yes life is important, but do you know what else is important?

Artisloveandlife: What

Lutzie71: Knowing the quadratic formula

Artisloveandlife: Meanie Artisloveandlife: Im an artist its all about the feeling not finding x Artisloveandlife: Ive been single since birth i dont even have an x

Lutzie71: Poor you Lutzie71: Although I must admit my dating skills aren't exactly the best either

Artisloveandlife: Forever alone club

Lutzie71: Indeed

Artisloveandlife: My battery is about to die so i guess this is goodbye for now Artisloveandlife: Ill go and try to take care of my brother but i doubt ill be successful Artisloveandlife: Ttyl Ludwig

Lutzie71: Will you ever tell me what it means? Lutzie71: Best of luck to you and your brother

Artisloveandlife: What ??

Lutzie71: What does ttyl mean?

Artisloveandlife: Talk to you later

Lutzie71: Well... that makes sense Lutzie71: Ttyl, goodnight Feliciano

Artisloveandlife: Nighty night Ludwig

As soon as he sent that message, his battery died. Sighing, Feliciano climbed up the stairs to Lovino's room.

Lovino's and Romeo's rooms were both on the 3rd floor, above Grandpa Rome's room and a guest room. The good thing was that each floor also had their own toilet, so there was no need for a race to who needs it the most. What was specific to the 3rd floor was that it was the only one with the bathtub.

Lovino's room was on the right side of the hall, directly above Grandpa Rome's room, so Feliciano suspected that Lovino wouldn't cry too loud and anger Grandpa even more. Feliciano also didn't believe that Grandpa hated non-straight people, he must have been feeling just a bit under the weather and this would all be settled properly soon. He hoped it to be true.

Feliciano slowly entered Lovino's room. "Lovi? Are you asleep?" He whispered.

Lovino just shuffled around in his bed, hiding his face away with the pillow and his back turned to Feliciano. Feliciano entered the room and crawled into Lovino's bed. "Can I sleep with you tonight?" Feliciano asked.

"Sure..." Came a soft answer, Lovino's voice numb from crying.

"Thanks." Feliciano cuddled close to his brother, just like they used to be back in the day. "Hey Lovi?" He called after a few minutes.

"Hm?" Lovino answered.

"I made a new friend."

"Yeah?"

"Mhm. Do you remember Lizzie from Middle school?"

"The one who used to do your biology homework?"

"Yes! That's her." Feliciano laughed at the memory. "She got married, you know. And she introduced me to her husband's cousin."

"Okay." Lovino said.

"He liked my art that I made for that book, but you know what?"

"What?"

"He's Ludwig. He's the author of the book. And he's my friend."

Silence.

"Why are you telling me this? You know I hate Germans." Lovino asked, turning around to face his brother, his eyes were red from the tears.

"I know. And I thought that if I told you that, you would focus more on your hatred towards them and the pain from the dinner will go away." Feliciano answered.

Lovino was silent yet again. He really did need to focus on something else and not that dreadful dinner. It was just so hard knowing that, after tonight, he couldn't see his beloved for who knows how long.

"Let's just sleep, Feli. No Germans, no dinners, just sleep." Lovino finally said, turning around once again and falling asleep as if he was dying.

Feliciano followed suit, but in the final moments before drifting away to sleep, his mind raced towards Ludwig's words to him. Unlike his brother, Feliciano fell asleep with a smile.

The next few days were extremely heavy on the Vargas family. Romeo would often run off somewhere, anywhere just to be away from the house. Grandpa Rome and Lovino refused to talk to each other face to face, with Lovino barely ever leaving his room. Any kind of communication was passed around through Feliciano, and Feliciano had a short living memory, meaning that most of the information trusted upon him to deliver was forgotten.

When he wasn't serving as carrier pigeon to his grandpa and brother, Feliciano entertained himself by talking to Ludwig. It was all still very casual; a few weather comparisons, talking about books and stuff like that. Occasionally, however, Feliciano would send Ludwig something which the former swore made the latter hate and love him at the same time.

Artisloveandlife: So if i were to duplicate myself would the other me get all the information i am getting or do i need to pass it in some way Artisloveandlife: Like if i learned that the chicken came before the egg would the other me know it instantly or do i need to teach them

Lutzie71: You would probably have to teach them Lutzie71: Also egg should come first considering that many species before chickens used eggs for their offspring

Artisloveandlife: How ??

Lutzie71: Well dinosaurs were hatched from eggs and, through evolution, a chicken was born

Artisloveandlife: But what about the chicken egg ??

Lutzie71: Well, with every new species new genes were developed and passed down, but theory egg is always first

Artisloveandlife: But who laid the egg ??

Lutzie71: A T-Rex

Artisloveandlife: Oh

There were other occasions when Feliciano would get too philosophical and Ludwig played along.

Artisloveandlife: I dont understand why we have arms Artisloveandlife: I mean i get it for grabbing stuff and all but Artisloveandlife: Why couldnt it have been something completely else

Lutzie71: Probably because arms were the easiest to develop Lutzie71: They are just upper legs

Artisloveandlife: Oh Artisloveandlife: Why do we have feelings

Lutzie71: Well, what you call feelings might not be feelings at all but emotions Lutzie71: Emotions come from your brain and they stir up some hormones you mistake for feelings Lutzie71: Or it could be nerves like when you touch something cold you would feel cold

Artisloveandlife: So we re kinda like robots

Lutzie71: Yes and no Lutzie71: Robots don't need emotions

Sometimes, they just talked for hours, until one of them fell asleep or their battery died.

Artisloveandlife: Ludwig what kind of movies do you like Artisloveandlife: Im looking for something to watch

Lutzie71: I don't really watch movies, but I like historical dramas Lutzie71: I guess the best example for that would be Saving Private Ryan

Artisloveandlife: Oh i like that genre too Artisloveandlife: I like romance and comedy the most but not really romcoms Artisloveandlife: And my fave historical movie is national treasure

Lutzie71: Can that even be considered a historical movie

Artisloveandlife: Ofc it can Artisloveandlife: I passed my american history exam because of that movie

Lutzie71: First part or the second part?

Artisloveandlife: Theres a 2nd part ??? Artisloveandlife: Wth ive never seen it Artisloveandlife: Now i know what to watch tnx

Lutzie71: I should probably rewatch it as well I've forgotten most of the plot

Artisloveandlife: We could watch it together Artisloveandlife: I think thered an app that lets you watch movies and talk to each othrr

Lutzie71: Are you alright?

Artisloveandlife: Yeah why

Lutzie71: You had a lot of mistakes

Artisloveandlife: Oh that  Artisloveandlife: I have big fingers and no autocorrect

Lutzie71: I see Lutzie71: About the app, why don't we just use Skype or other methods Lutzie71: I have never heard of the app that lets you watch movies and talk at the same time

Artisloveandlife: There should be some on app store as far as i know Artisloveandlife: Gotta go now its pigeon time Artisloveandlife: Ttyl Ludwig

Lutzie71: Skree skree Feliciano

That day the tension between his family was at it's peak. It was time for Grandpa Rome to leave again, this time for France, and he still hasn't made peace with Lovino.

"Nonno, you're not going to change anything by not accepting him. He's still going to love Toni." Feliciano tried to convince his grandpa for who knows what time this week. "Just get over it and let him be happy."

"You don't understand it, Feli." Grandpa Rome slapped his fist on the suitcase. "It's unnatural. It's dangerous. And he just can't be happy like that."

Feliciano sighed. "Why do you think that? Why can't he be happy? You haven't seen him with Toni the way I did." He wiped at the tear threatening to fall from his brown eyes. "I haven't seen him that happy since I finished High school. Nonno, please, just let him have that."

"He could get hurt, Feliciano! And neither you nor he understand that!"

"He could only get hurt if he's alone!" Feliciano yelled. "And right now that's exactly what he is. He's alone and hurting and Toni understands and cares for him. Lovi needs him, Nonno. No matter what anyone of us believes in."

"It's wrong, Feliciano!"

"Even if it was, what you're doing is wrong too!"

Silence fell upon them. Feliciano took it as an opportunity to calm down and breathe. He hated fighting, even if it was necessary. He just wanted everyone to accept and love each other, even if they didn't understand each other. "It's not all black and white, Nonno, and for Lovi being gay is completely white. Don't be that black spot that ruins everything. Lovi is still painting his life, staining it..." He whispered. "Staining it would ruin everything. And no one wants that."

Grandpa Rome kept quiet. Feliciano continued. "Do some research, Nonno. You don't have to understand it, but if you love Lovi, tell him. Accept him and learn because you love him and you want to protect him." After that, Feliciano left Grandpa Rome standing over his suitcase in his room.

Lovino never came downstairs to say goodbye to his grandpa. No one blamed him, this was one hell of a week and everyone wanted things to go back to normal. Romeo and Feliciano parted with Grandpa Rome, but before Feliciano could return to the house, Grandpa Rome placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Tell Lovino that I love him for me." Grandpa Rome said and Feliciano nodded. "And tell Toni he can come and visit, but I want him out of the house by 9 p.m." Feliciano's smile grew as he said that, nodding much more intense than before. This was progress.

Grandpa Rome left after that and Feliciano happily returned to the house, immediately racing towards Lovino's room to pass him the news.

Artisloveandlife: I DID IT!!!

[all-things-skam]

Hello can you write about Filippo in a date with Dario when gio write about the big fight in with Marti is scared and Elia furious and Filippo go without say nothing to Dario and after ceck out Marti kiss Elia worried and amazed?

Elippo with Filippo worried about Marti and Elia after the fight

filippo kiss elia’s bruise after the fight?

hello can you write about gio and elia fight homofobes that offended rames and filo? with elippo vibe and protective boyfriend elia?

-

Title: 

Ship: Skam Italia | Filippo Sava and Elia Santini (Elippo)

Friday, April 5th

Filippo heard about it from Elia. He was at his date with Dario when he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. The taller boy had taken him to a nice restaurant downtown and Filippo was pretty excited about this date - and Dario. No one had ever taken him out in a fancy place before, Filippo had a good feeling about this guy. To not seem rude, he decided to ignore it and concentrate on Dario’s story about him helping a family of refugees in the small NGO he works at…and the abs he must be hiding underneath his shirt, thinking it was Eleonora yapping about the mess he left at home - again.

But, it wasn’t.

It vibrated two more times which got Filippo really annoyed and pulled out his phone, reading his texts.

Elia: Filo! Something happened at EDM

Elia: Gio got into a fight and Marti and the homophobes

Elia: Can I call you?

Before Filippo could finish reading his messages, his phone went off, Elia’s name flashing on his screen. He sighed. What was so urgent that Elia needed to call him?

“Excuse me. I have to take this,” he politely said, raising from his seat and going to a more quiet spot where he wouldn’t disturb anyone. “Hello?”

“Filippo! Thank fuck,” Elia’s frantic voice answered.

Filippo rolled his eyes at the teenager’s dramatics. “What is it, Elia? It better be a life or death situation because I’m kind of busy right now-”

“Some homophobes were at the bar and started calling Marti names for no reasons. Gio and I went to his defense and nearly got into a fight.”

“Wait, Martino? Is he okay?” he said, suddenly growing worried.

The second Elia mentioned Martino’s name, his date with Dario didn’t matter anymore. Homophobia made Filippo sick to his stomach, why can people just live and let live? Is that too much to ask? Martino’s safety felt much more important than his friday night hookup.

“Are you okay?” Filippo added. Elia was the one who had called him, there must be a reason why he came to him and it wasn’t only Martino because, surely, Filippo wasn’t the one to call in case a fight erupted. No offence taken.

“Yes…no, I mean-” Elia stopped himself, taking a breather on the other side of the phone. “Can you come here? Please,” he asked in a smaller, shaky voice.

Filippo sighed and nodded although Elia couldn’t see him. “Alright. I’ll be there in ten.”

Ending the call, Filippo went back to his and Dario’s table and apologized to Dario for having to leave so soon and ruining their date but his friends needed him. Dario, being a sweetheart understood and told him to go, assuring Filippo that he wasn’t mad at him for leaving.

.

Filippo turned the street to EDM when he caught a familiar silhouette across the street getting into a car with someone. He frowned. Eleonora? And, was that Edoardo Incanti? Filippo shook his head, smirking. That beautiful little liar…it wasn’t only one date!

Locking his car, he shot a quick text to Elia saying he was here.

Instead of going inside and searching for Elia - and risk getting lost in the crowded bar -, Filippo stayed outside and waited for Elia’s response. He was tempted to text Martino too but, before he could do it, the redhead walked out of the bar past him, Niccolo hot on his heels.

“Marti!” Filippo stopped him and, for a second, Martino smiled, happy to see his pink haired friend but also confused. What was Filippo doing outside EDM? He surely didn’t buy tickets to hook up with Edoardo.

The redhead sighed and pulled Filo into a hug. “What are you doing here?” he asked, not expecting Filippo to show up at a teenager party. “Nico and I were going home, he isn’t feeling so good.”

Martino was a terrible liar and he knew that Filippo wouldn’t buy anything that he was saying. He just had to somehow distract him so he wouldn’t go in and hear about the fight from someone else.

“Are you okay? Elia called me. He said something about a fight caused by some homophobes.”

Grilled. Marti sighed. “I’m fine…”

Filippo gave him a look.

“Elia and Gio defended me, I’m fine, Filippo,” Marti assured. Behind him, Nico put a protective hand on his waist, pulling his boyfriend closer.

Talking about Elia, here he was, walking out of the bar, hair a mess from running a hand through it over and over out of anxiousness. He scanned his surroundings and rushed to Filippo’s side, pulling him into a hug, not seeing Marti nor Nico in front of him.

“Filo! Fuck’s sake, what took you so long?” he asked the older boy, leaving the couple behind them more than confused.

It was rare Elia would be affectionate toward Filippo in the middle of the street - anywhere public, really - so the pink haired boy was very surprised by the sudden PDA. He sounded quite shaken up on the phone so Filippo said nothing and hugged back, wanting nothing more than to ease Elia’s worries, catching Martino’s ‘wtf’ look over Elia’s shoulder.

“Erm, Elia? Since when do you and Filippo are so…close?” Marti said, for lack of better words.

Elia whirled around and noticed his two friends’s eyes on him. Shit.

Martino’s eyebrows furrowed, dark eyes moving to Elia and then Filippo and back to Elia as a lot of question floated around in his head. What the fuck was going on? Since when do they know each other? How long has this been going on? Was Elia gay? Was this why he was being so weird lately? Was this why he declined going on a date with Silvia?

“Shit. Marti! I…I didn’t see you there,” Elia said in sly panic, rubbing the back of his neck in embarassement. He doubted Martino would ever judge him for being bisexual but, this was so new to Elia that he didn’t want to risk telling anyone, not even his best friends.

“Holy shit! Is that why you didn’t want us to set you up with Silvia? Because you had a secret boyfriend? Everything makes sense now…”

“We’re not together, Nico,” Filippo corrected.

Before meeting Filippo, Elia had never questioned his sexuality. He’s alway been into girls for as long as he remembered. He’s kissed a couple girls and even had sex with one or two but, it’s only around Christmas time, when he met Filippo Sava, the blond hottie with a lip piercing at Martino’s party that the teenager started feeling sexually confused.

“We’re just…hanging out,” added Elia but Marti and Nico didn’t seem convinced. Okay, by hanging out he meant hooking up but Elia wasn’t ready to tell his friends that. “I promise we’re not dating! I would’ve told you guys if we were.”

Niccolo’s phone went off and he and Martino left with a promise to finish this conversation another time, leaving Elia and Filippo on the sidewalk.

“Are they still inside?” Filippo asked, nodding at the bar.

Elia shook his head. “No. No, they’re not. Edoardo and his friends got them to leave.”

“Okay. Wanna leave?”

Elia nodded and shot a quick text to Gio and Luchi, saying he was leaving too, not feeling like partying anymore.

He sat in Filippo’s passenger seat, Filippo getting behind the wheel right after him, and let out a frustrated groan before letting all of his feelings out.

“It’s not fair! Those guys were being forceful on Eva, buying her drinks and demanding her to come with them and Marti was trying to help her, saving her from those guys. All he did was pull her away from them, caring for his friend’s safety, and they started calling him names and- Why are people such assholes, Filo? Why can’t they let people live their life the way they want?”

Filippo bit his lip, putting his words together to give Elia a thought answer. “In the world we live in, some people can’t handle differences but, we can’t stop living our lives just because of those shallow homophobes who can’t handle love in another form than a man and a woman. Some people in this world think they are higher than us and give themselves permission to step on anyone who isn’t hetero and call us names, kick us or even worse: fire a gun.”

“I was scared, Filo. When this guy started calling Marti a faggot-” He stopped himself, trying to control his anger. “This is exactly why I’m so scared of coming out…and I’m not even fully gay. What happened to Martino could’ve happened to me…or you. If Gio and I - hell, even Edoardo his friends - hadn’t been there to defend him-”

“Elia,” Filippo said but the teenager wasn’t listening, caught up in his own head, making up scenarios. “Elia, listen to me. Elia!”

Filo’s voice resonated in the small car, catching Elia’s attention.

“W-what if it happens again?” His voice was quiet, almost a whisper.

While the pink haired boy would’ve loved to promise him that it would never happen again, he couldn’t. Having been a part of the gay community for over ten years, Filippo had to be honest and truthful. Still today, in 2019, the LGBTQ+ community wasn’t in full safety. Awful things happened to the community on the daily and sadly will keep happening for many more years.

Filippo cupped Elia’s chin, forcing the brunet to look at him. “If you keep thinking like that, if you live in the fear of some homophobic assholes coming on you verbally or physically, you’re never gonna live your life. So, you gotta stop with the ‘what if’s’ and live your best bisexual life, okay?”

An amused snicker escaped Elia’s lips and he nodded. “Okay.”

Filippo reached over the gearshift and pulled the younger boy against him, giving him a hug. Elia pressed his face in the crook of Filo’s neck, the familiarity of his cologne making him feel secure.

.

Wednesday, April 17th

The second fight happened two weeks after and, this time, it didn’t go as smoothly. The Homophobic were there for blood, revenge…and they got what they were looking for.

Marti was touched first, and then Gio. The two were outside, chatting and taking some air when the Homophobic guys showed up and started throwing fists. Naturally, Gio went to his best friend’s defense, not caring if he got hurt in the way. At the moment, all that mattered was Martino.

Then, Elia came and saw his best friends outside, caught in a fight. Without hesitation, he made a beeline back inside to go and get Edoardo and his friends, knowing that he and Gio would never get away in one piece against these buff guys.

The fight was bloody and intense. The cops came and took everyone’s names, not giving a shit about what nor why it happened and left. Yes, they fucking left. Once again, the homophobes got away with it which made Elia sick to his stomach. The world was so unfair.

When Filippo showed up on the scene, he looked around for Elia, having not caught much information when Eleonora came home oddly early for a party night. He knew she wasn’t much of a party animal but, no one comes home from a party before 10pm…unless something went wrong.

It was dark and there was a lot of people outside. Luckily, Filo spotted Eva and Martino with Luchino sitting on the stairs by the entrance and went to them. According to his sister, Martino had been hit this time so his big brother side took over when he saw the redhead and tilted Martino’s chin up to get a better look at his face. He sighed in relief and asked if they had seen Elia.

“He went inside to get ice for Gio,” Luchino told him.

“What happened?” Filippo asked the group.

“The homophobes from the bar came back,” Martino explained, his breath faltering, thinking back at the scene. “Gio and I were talking outside when they came out of nowhere and started throwing punches and calling me names again. Gio pushed me out of the way and got hit instead. The, Elia came and-”

As if on cue, the two boys walked out of the party, Giovanni holding a bag filled with ice against his jaw.

Eva got up the second she saw her ex. “Gio!”

Shaking his head at Eva playing nurse with Gio, Elia snickered. Although Gio was now dating Sofia, it was clear that they weren’t over each other. Everyone could see it.

Mid way down the stairs, Elia furrowed his eyebrows, recognizing Filippo’s cotton candy pink hair, chatting with Marti and Luchino. What was he going here? Elia hadn’t even inform him about the fight yet…

Filippo glanced up, meeting his eyes and bolted up a couple stairs and kissed him, taking his face between his two palms, catching the teenager off guard. “Thank god you’re okay. Ele told me about the fight. She said you were throwing fists and got hit too.”

“It’s nothing, Filo…”

“Nothing?! Have you seen your face?” Filippo cupped his face delicately, seeing a bruise forming on Elia’s cheek, close to his eye and split lip. “This is your second fight in less than a month, love. Love me some bad boy but, don’t mess your pretty face.”

Elia leaned in to his touch, forgetting for an instant that he was surrounded by all their friends. He felt safe in Filippo’s arms and although they had agreed about being casual, this felt so fucking good.

He shut his eyes in pain, feeling a little dizzy from everything. “My face hurt like a bitch.”

Filo hummed, eyebrows furrowed in concentration, having a closer look at Elia’s face, examining his injuries. “You should ice this, it’s gonna look nasty in the morning,” he said, thumb gently brushing over the bruised skin before kissing it delicately.

Their little moment was interrupted by Martino clearing his throat, reminding his two friends that they weren’t alone.

“I think there’s something you might wanna tell them,” Marti said, motioning for Luchino, Gio and Eva who were a little lost.  

“The fuck. You’re gay too now?” Luchino said, shook too see Elia kissing a guy, more so Eleonora’s brother. “How come do you guys get all the hotties and I can’t even get Silvia to like me!”

Elia smirked, his split lip causing him to wince.

[roslinadama-sinequanon]

Saying Good-Bye to Yesterday-Chapter 10

Well, it’s taken quite a while to get this chapter posted, but it’s finally here.

 In this chapter, Rusty reflects on the way his feelings toward Andy and Sharon's relationship with Andy have changed over the years. 

You can find it here:

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13004092/10/Saying-Good-Bye-to-Yesterday

here:

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13004092/10/Saying-Good-Bye-to-Yesterday

And here:

***********

“So, your Mom is getting married. How do you feel about that?”

Rusty looked up from the chessboard, a flash of surprise crossing his face as he met the curious gaze of his psychiatrist. Blowing out a deep sigh, he shook his head with resignation. “I don’t know why I should be surprised you already know. It’s not like you can keep any secrets around here.”

Dr. Joe’s lips twisted with wry amusement. “I’ve been invited to the engagement party. But that doesn’t answer my question.”

“How do I feel about it?”

“Yes.”

“Well, my Mom is happy, so of course I’m happy.”

“Of course you’re happy?“

“Yes. Why are you looking at me like that?”

“How am I looking at you?”

“Oh my God. Like I’m not telling you the truth.”

“Are you?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Because there was a time that wasn’t the case.”

“What wasn’t the case?”

“You being happy about it. There was a time that your Mom was happy about her relationship with Andy and you weren’t quite so sure about it.”

He shrugged. “That was a long time ago.”

“Not so long.”

Rusty slumped back in his seat and gave Dr. Joe a long look. His feelings about his mother and Andy were complicated and had gone through many changes over the years as he‘d watched them grow from adversaries to friends, from lovers to engaged. Back when Sharon had first taken him in, she‘d also just been promoted to leading Major Crimes, and as an outsider, with an inside view, he’d been a keen observer of the dynamics running through the division.

It hadn’t taken long to notice that Sharon most often relied on the blunt, no-nonsense Andy Flynn, rather than her second in command, Provenza. Which he supposed made sense because Provenza had been slow to overcome the grudge he had over her getting the job he assumed would be his.

And, when it came to finding his biological mother, it was Andy she approached for help. The brash lieutenant was sarcastic and didn’t give an inch, but strangely enough, Rusty rather liked that about him. It was honest. Andy didn’t pretend to like him and he never tried to bullshit him. He hated people who tried to bullshit him. Later, when they’d found his mother and convinced her to return, Andy was the one that Sharon asked to accompany him to the bus stop to greet her.

What happened at that bus stop was something he tried very hard not to think about. Though he hadn’t known it then, that night was the final severing of any kind of mother/son relationship he would ever have with Sharon Beck. And Andy Flynn had been sitting right by his side when it happened. He’d been worried about how Flynn might react when he met his mother. She was the kind of woman for whom the caustic detective would normally have nothing but contempt. A drug addict who’d run off with her drug addict boyfriend. A dirtbag who’d abandoned her thirteen-year-old son to the streets. Those were the kinds of judgments he’d never been shy about making. Instead, rather than condemning the woman, Andy had been surprisingly kind and gone out of his way to help calm his nerves while they waited.

Then the bus arrived and nothing played out the way it was supposed to. His mother was supposed to walk off that bus, pull him into her arms and apologize for all the years she’d neglected and abused him. All the years she’d brought violent and dangerous men into their lives.

She was supposed to get down on her knees and beg him to forgive her for walking away and leaving him behind to fend for himself. She was supposed to magically transform into the kind of mother he‘d always fantasized about having.  It was supposed to be the moment he’d been dreaming about for two years.

Instead, he stood next to Andy watching as the passengers began disembarking from the bus, his excitement quickly turning to dread as the line of people began to dwindle down. When the last of them stepped off the bus and it became more and more apparent that his mother was not on board, his stomach clenched painfully. For a moment, he thought might throw up. Andy gave him a hand gesture, urging him not to panic just before he hopped on the bus to see if maybe she was still on board. But he’d known Andy wouldn’t find her, maybe he’d known all along.  His mother had taken the money Andy sent her and disappeared, probably used it for drugs, and every hopeful fantasy he’d had about their reunion came crashing down around him, causing him to run before he burst into tears like a baby.

He’d had two choices that night. Run away again and disappear into the night like so many other homeless, broken teens. Or, recognize that he was not that homeless, hopeless boy anymore. That he had a place to go. A woman who had opened her home, her pocketbook…and her heart to him. A woman he was quickly learning would never let him down.

Back at the condo, he’d finally forced himself to look at his childhood without the blinders he’d been wearing for two years. The blinders he’d put on the day he realized that his mother had truly abandoned him. Because he had to believe it wasn’t her fault. No mother would just walk away and leave her child behind. It was Gary’s fault, he’d made her do it, and one day she would get away from him and come back and they would live happily ever after. He had to believe that. Had to cling to some kind of hope that he might return to a life that had never really existed because the life that he was living on the street was about as bleak and ugly as it got. Now he knew that happily ever after was never going to happen, even if his mother did one day return. Because the truth was, the life that he’d led before she left him behind had been anything but happy.

Looking at his past square in the face, he saw a young boy living with his addicted mother as a squatter in an abandoned, condemned crack house. It was filthy, reeking of vomit, urine and body odor. No one ever cleaned. Cockroaches crawled all over the place and a rat had even bitten him once while he slept. His mother and her boyfriend of the week stayed up all hours drinking and shooting up. By morning, they were too wasted to even wake up. So, he did his best to find something to eat, more often than not finding nothing, and left for school. Because if he didn’t go to school the authorities would come looking and they would take him away from his mother and he‘d never see her again. Whatever kind of mess she was, she was all he knew. All he had.

But when he got to school, his homework wasn’t finished because he hadn’t understood much of it and the help that he’d needed wasn’t there. So, he’d just given up and not bothered with it. Moving from school to school to school didn’t lend itself to a great education. But that didn’t bother him as much as the kids who wrinkled their noses at him and called him names because he smelled bad. He couldn’t find any quarters in his mother’s pockets to go to the run-down Laundromat around the corner and do their laundry, so he’d been forced to wear dirty clothes. And he hadn’t showered in days because the abandoned house they were living in had its water cut off.

Then, when school was out, he had to go home, such as it was. And he didn’t know whether to hope his mother and her boyfriend were still passed out, or awake. Because awake could sometimes be so much worse. Awake meant that when he let the door slam shut he got a beating for making too much noise. And while he was getting that beating he was being called a “little shit” a “bastard” a “noisy motherfucker” and, the worst, for him, a “faggot”. Too young, too weak to defend himself, he’d slink off to a corner filled with pain and anger. His mother, the one person in the world who should have protected him, never defended him, never stood up for him. In fact, if she even bothered to check and see how he was, she would blame him for the beating, telling him he should have known better than to make so much noise and set off Bob, Mike, JC, Coot, Gary, whichever man she was currently in “love” with.

And then, after she’d left him behind and he‘d gone through a string of abusive foster homes and a year on the streets, he’d ended up here in this beautiful high rise condo in the heart of wealthy Los Feliz where everything was always neat and clean and smelled good, like scented candles and the fresh flowers that always graced the tables. He not only had a bed with clean sheets and blankets, but he also had his own bedroom. He was living with a woman who not only took care of herself but took care of him as well. A woman who brought him grocery shopping and asked him what kinds of food he liked to eat and then stocked her refrigerator and cupboards with his favorites. A woman who made sure he had healthy meals right down to the apple she put in his lunch sack every day.

For the first time in his life, he did not have to worry about where his next meal was going to come from, or if there would even be a next meal. Nor did he have to worry about dirty, torn clothes. This woman took him shopping and bought him new clothes. Not just his school uniform khakis and light blue polo shirts, things he actually liked, and they were always freshly laundered so he had clean clothes every day.

Yes, this woman had rules and there were boundaries and no he didn‘t always like that, but she always spoke to him kindly and with respect. She didn’t lash out and call him names, even when he knew he might have deserved a few when he was being particularly rude and disrespectful to her. She had conversations with him, gently leading him toward making the right decisions rather than forcing them on him. She talked a lot about his future and offered to help him with school applications so he could get a good education at some fancy private Catholic school she wanted him to attend. She even offered to hire a tutor because thanks to his haphazard schooling he was so far behind other kids his age.

For the first time since he could remember, he was not in the parenting role. For the first time, he had someone taking care of him. Someone who checked in on him at night before bed and who got him up in the morning to go to school because she was already up and dressed, impeccably so, for work. No drug-hazed mornings for Sharon Raydor. He had someone who cooked for him rather than him having to cook for her because she was too strung out and sick to be hungry as had been the case with his mother.  Sharon Raydor WAS the parent; she had herself and her life together and did not need anyone taking care of her the way he had always had to take care of Sharon Beck.

Sitting in what had become “his” bedroom he’d finally faced the reality of his life as it had been, as it was today, and where it might be in the future. And, with that reflection and the recognition that his future might very well be right here, he was able to let down a few of his defenses with Sharon, even filling out paperwork for that private school she wanted him to attend.  But, he’d put up a few walls with the lieutenant he’d run away from that night. The naïve eagerness for his mother’s arrival that he’d expressed to Andy while they waited for the bus was humiliating. When he thought about all those things he‘d made Andy promise; to be nice to her, to not question her decision to abandon him, to make sure there wasn’t a mini bar in her room, it made him cringe. He felt like an idiot, and Andy had witnessed it all.

To his credit, Andy had never mentioned a word of it. And, when his biological father had shown up on the scene and turned out to be a selfish prick with a quick fist, Andy had been nothing but supportive.

Then, just he was putting his biological parents behind him and was starting to feel more comfortable in his new life, his friend Kris had ratted him out, telling Emma Rios about the threatening letters he‘d been receiving. In an effort to keep Rios from persuading Chief Taylor to send him off into witness protection, Sharon elicited the help of her second in command. With that shift, Lieutenant Provenza suddenly became the central male figure in his life.

That gravitation toward Provenza continued after Sharon attended Nicole’s wedding with Andy. Because something had definitely changed between them that day. There was a new dynamic when they were together. Overnight the close professional relationship they shared had suddenly, and unexpectedly, become personal.  

Andy was no longer Lieutenant Flynn, he was just Andy, and Andy, much to the chagrin of Provenza, was the only member of the team to refer to their Captain more informally as Sharon. That had certainly not gone unnoticed and neither had the fact that the two of them had begun doing things together outside of work. Sometimes Sharon would call to say that they were working late and she was going to run out for a bite to eat with Andy or she’d go off to some movie she’d been dying to see with him, or to a baseball game or an art gallery opening. He’d even heard her on the phone asking him to be her plus one at some charity event, which had really surprised him because those were the kinds of things she usually asked Gavin to attend with her. Andy even started showing up occasionally on Sunday afternoons to munch on nachos and watch football with her, his favorite garlic guacamole and cranberry lime seltzer water now stocked in her fridge. Which, if he was being completely honest, wasn‘t all bad because it kept her from bugging him to watch with her. Despite her best efforts Sharon had yet to turn him into a football fan.

All of this made him look at Andy through new eyes. Though he despised analyzing his motivations, he did recognize that he was, by nature and circumstances, suspicious of people. In his experience, people weren’t ever what they pretended to be. Well, except for Sharon. Sharon was the only genuine person in his life, the only one who‘d turned out to be the real deal. Most people, he’d found, had ulterior motives for everything they did. So, once Andy had become a bigger fixture in Sharon’s life he’d started wondering if the man’s helpful intentions had been more about making a good impression and helping Sharon than about helping him, and he’d continued to turn more to Provenza for advice. Given Provenza’s more adversarial past with Sharon, he knew the man was completely unbiased and not looking at things just from her perspective. The same could not be said for Andy. Andy was always protecting Sharon and her perspective.

But he’d been okay with their friendship, even as he could see a growing connection between them. A certain softness in their eyes when they thought the other wasn’t looking, a way that Sharon had of always reaching out to touch Andy, and the tender way Andy talked to her, not at all the tough, cynical guy he was at work. Things you would have to be blind not to see.

Or in denial.

But there had been nothing romantic, nothing sexual. And he found that platonic dating was fine, especially when it kept his mother focused less focused on him, giving him greater freedom.

Then, Christmas a couple years ago when Andy and Sharon had been struggling to define their relationship to Nicole, he’d had to go and rock the boat, bringing to their attention everything that he’d been witnessing, and something had clicked. For his mother anyway. He was pretty sure that Andy was well aware of what was going on. But with his mother, he’d seen it all play out on her face. Oh, she’d tried denying it, but the look in her eyes contradicted her protests that they were not dating. She knew it was true. They’d been dating all right, just not in the romantic sense.

And then she’d come home one day and told him that Andy had asked her out on a date. A date. She’d never used that word before when it came to going out with Andy, it had always been, “I‘m going to a movie with Andy” or “I‘m going to a Dodger game tonight with Andy.”  But even with this new terminology, he still hadn’t worried too much, figuring it would just be more of the same. After all, middle-aged people weren’t into romance and sex, right?

How wrong he’d been. The night of the date Sharon was as nervous as he’d ever seen her. She’d tried on at least five dresses, including a new one, asking his advice on each one. After the fourth dress he‘d had enough, groaning, “I don’t know why you’re getting so worked up, it’s just Andy, he sees you every day.” She’d given him a glare, then turned back to her bedroom muttering, “I knew I should have called Gavin.“ This unsure woman plagued by nerves was someone he didn’t know. It was a side of Sharon he’d never seen before.  The only Sharon he knew was calm, cool, self-confident and decisive.

Later that night he’d been sitting on the couch doing homework when she came home from the date all starry-eyed, like some teenage girl swooning over her latest crush, her fingertips playing over her lips in a way that suggested she was reliving a kiss. That was when it really hit him. When he realized that his mother’s relationship with Andy had taken a dramatic turn and that romantic dating was definitely a whole new ballgame.

And yes, that did make him a bit squeamish. In the three years that he’d lived with Sharon, he’d never seen her in any kind of romantic or sexual relationship. Even when Jack had come to stay for a few days back when they were still married, Sharon had made him sleep on the couch and there had been no affection whatsoever between the two.

So, when Andy had to move in with them temporarily because of a dangerous blood clot in his carotid artery and suddenly his mother was all flirty and giggly and she was cuddling up to him while they watched TV, sharing soft, mushy looks with him and kissing him goodnight, it felt awkward…disconcerting …as if he didn’t know her anymore. Because he’d never seen this side of her. Ever.

Still, when Sharon had explained the seriousness of a clot in the carotid artery and that it could be life-threatening, the cold dread that settled like a weight in his stomach made him realize how much he had come to care about Andy. The idea that he could actually die had scared him enough to offer Andy his bedroom after Sharon had assured him that he would not be sharing her room.

Which was another thing that was really strange.

In the 13 years that he’d spent with his biological mother, he couldn’t ever remember her dating anyone the way that Sharon was dating Andy. No man had ever treated her with the kind of respect that Andy treated Sharon. No man had ever shown up at her door with lavender roses because purple was her favorite color. And certainly, no man had ever taken her out for a night on the town and then gone home without getting the one thing he‘d come to believe every man wanted…to get laid. When his mother met a guy there were no traditional tokens of affection, no dates, it was straight into bed.  

And then, just as he’d grown a little bit more comfortable, things changed yet again. Not too long after Andy’s surgery on the clot had healed enough for him to be able to move back into his home in Valencia, he had taken Sharon away down to Orange County for a weekend at the beach. He wasn’t a dumb kid. He knew what that meant, but he didn’t dwell on it. Out of sight, out of mind and all that. But when she came home from that weekend, she had approached him with a conversation regarding “overnight guests to the condo“. After clarifying that she was not referring to him having overnight guests, it hit him like a ton of bricks. She meant that Andy might start spending the night…in her bedroom this time. Once the initial shock wore off he told her he was happy for her, as she said he should be, but he‘d still felt conflicted about it. He liked Andy, and of course, he wanted his mother to be happy. But…just the idea of them doing that made him shudder. Not so strange, Dr. Joe had later explained, “No child ever thinks of their mother as a sexual being and it certainly isn’t easy coming face to face with the man she is having sex with. Watching a parent fall in love is quite a strange phenomenon that with divorce rates being what they are, more and more kids are having to come to terms with.”

But it was more than that for him, and he couldn't put his finger on why he felt the way that he did. Not until the day that he came home early because he'd had a fight with TJ after having told Sharon he would be out late.

He walked in the door, his mind still on the fight, when he heard a soft, low moan come from the direction of his mother’s bedroom. He paused for a moment, not sure what he’d heard. Then he heard it again, this time with an added sharp cry of pain. The door was wide open to the hall so he had no problem hearing her. With a surge of panic, he started to rush forward, sure that she was injured, but just as he reached the doorway, a deep, harsh male groan brought him up short and he froze. Then he heard it, the telltale thumping of her padded headboard against the wall, the low creaking of the bed and the soft sighs of “Andy…Andy…Andy…“  telling him everything he had to know about what was going on in that room. Mortified, he stormed off toward his own bedroom, the shout of Sharon’s name seeming to reverberate throughout the condo. It was that last cry of completion that caused him to slam the door to his room harder than he’d intended.

He threw himself on his bed fighting waves of nausea, his fists clenched at his sides. He wasn’t sure why he was reacting this way. His biological mother had slept with dozens of men, even prostituting herself when times were lean. He’d learned to live with it. But dammit, this was different. This was Sharon. His adopted mother was as different as day and night from his biological mother. And he needed it to be that way.

A few minutes later, his mother knocked on his door and entered his room wearing a short silk bathrobe he’d never seen before. Something a woman would wear for a man. Her skin was flushed and he could swear he could smell Andy on her. His stomach roiled. That smell still lived in his nightmares.

“You’re home early,” she said, sitting on the edge of his bed. He grunted. She brushed a lock of hair back from his face and he flinched. She sighed.

“I’m assuming given the way you slammed your door that you heard us when you got home.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He rolled away.

“Well, I think we need to talk about it. I did warn you that Andy might start spending the night here once in a while.”

“Spending the night is a little different than having to listen to porn.” He felt her tense, saw the little flicker of hurt in her eyes and wished he could take back what he’d just said.

Sharon took a deep breath, trying to regulate her temper.  “Look, Rusty, I’m sorry you’re upset. I’m sorry you had to hear that. If we’d known you were going to be home early, of course, we would have been more discreet. But this is my home and if I want to have Andy stay over; I will. What you heard was not porn it was lovemaking. There’s a difference.”

He gave a derisive snort and rolled his eyes. “Sure there is.”

“Look, I know it had to be awkward to hear us that way, but why is this bothering you so much? Why are you so upset?” She set a hand on his shoulder and he sat up his eyes flashing with anger.

“I guess I just thought you were above all that, okay.”

She flinched, her brow creasing with confusion. “Above it? What do you mean by that? You think I‘m not human?”

Rusty shrugged. “What am I supposed to think? For all the years that I’ve lived with you, you never had a boyfriend until Andy. You didn’t even let your husband sleep with you when he stayed here.”

“Because we were legally separated and that part of our relationship had been over for a very, very long time.”

“That’s what I’m saying. You didn’t need any guy that way. You just always seem so perfect.”

“Oh my God, honey. I am so not perfect. You’re right, in the past few years, I haven’t had any men in my life until Andy. But I am not a saint. I am not a nun. I am a woman. I have needs like any other woman, any other human being.”

He grimaced. “Can we please stop using the word ‘needs’?”

Her lips pursed in an effort to conceal her amusement. “Fine. But I need you to know that I am not perfect, not by any means. Do not put me on a pedestal.”

“A pedestal?”

“Yes. Because you know what happens when you put people on pedestals?”

He shook his head negatively.

“It deprives them of their humanness. It keeps you from seeing them clearly. I have imperfections and flaws. I have challenges and struggles. I have insecurities. And, yes, I’m sorry to say, I have needs. And when you think a person doesn’t have those human qualities, when you think they are above that, it’s dangerous. Because now you’ve created a standard of perfection that no one can live up to and that can only lead to disappointment. The way you’re feeling right now. And that isn’t fair to me, because I have never claimed to be perfect.”

The anger left Rusty’s eyes. “I guess I just never see you that way. You always seem to have everything so together. You always seem to know what to do and what to say.”

“Well, maybe it seems that way. But I have made plenty of mistakes, dear child, and there are times I don’t exactly know what to do or what to say. This is one of them. I’m sorry if hearing Andy and me embarrassed you.”

He shrugged again. “It’s nothing I haven’t heard before. But, Sharon,” he sat up drawing his knees into his chest. “I don’t get it. You have this great condo, you have a lot of money, a car, you can buy whatever you want, you‘re okay on your own. What do you get out of it?”

She quirked her head to the side, confusion again creasing her brow. “What do I get out of it? I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean, you don’t have to do it.”

My God, was that really what he thought? “Sex? You’re talking about sex?”

He nodded and her face softened with sympathy.

“Oh, honey. Sex should never be about doing something you don’t want to do just to get something in return. It’s not a transaction, or at least it shouldn’t be.”

He stared at her blandly. He knew he was seriously screwed up when it came to sex. But the one thing he‘d always been sure of was that it was all about quid pro quo, a transaction, as Sharon said. His mother used sex to make money for food and drugs; she used sex as a way to put a roof over their heads by finding a man with an apartment and ingratiating her way into staying with him. She used sex to keep those same men from throwing them out on the street and to keep them from beating her. At the time, it had sickened him and he hated those guys. But then he’d gone and done the very same thing.  He’d sold his body to survive, for food and shelter. And every time he did it, he hated himself more and more. Hated them. Hated their dark, dirty needs. Hated the sounds they made and the smells they left on him. He hated them because they had stolen his childhood, his self-worth and had turned the act of sex into something dark, shameful and degrading.

Sharon continued on gently, “I know that what you went through on the streets has probably warped your views on sexuality but----”

“Mom, I really don’t want to talk about this with you, especially after you‘ve…well,” he gestured toward her attire.

“I know discussing sex with a parent is uncomfortable, I get that. I’ve been through it with your sister and brother. But I want to make sure that you know there is nothing wrong with having sexual needs. All people have them, it’s part of being human. It’s the way people act upon those needs that can twist and pervert them into something ugly and painful”

His chest tightened at the flicker of pain in her eyes, evidence that she too had experienced a darker side to sex.

“Sex, at its best, is not a transactional act. It’s something to be shared, a need to express your love in a physical way, a desire to give your partner pleasure and to accept the pleasure they want to give you in return. Really it’s about sharing the most intimate part of you.” A flush of embarrassment stained Rusty’s cheeks, but Sharon continued on because she was pretty sure this was a conversation he’d never had before and it was important that he understand.

“I don’t sleep with Andy because I feel like I have to be with him that way. I’m with Andy because I want to be. And, I know you may think this sounds corny or old-fashioned, but there really is a difference between sex and making love and one day I hope you will have that experience.”

And so, with that, Andy began spending more and more nights at the condo. Rusty grew used to seeing him come out of Sharon’s bedroom, sometimes in just his boxers, and even seeing him in her bed. It had been quite jarring the first time he’d knocked on their bedroom door, was told to “come in”, and Andy was lying there in bed, Sharon’s head resting sleepily on his bare chest. But now it just seemed normal.

Then, one night during supper, they’d tossed him another curveball. Andy was looking to sell his house in Valencia to find a place closer to theirs in Los Feliz. Okay, no big deal about that. But then, all of a sudden they were talking about moving in together and buying a house together. In an instant, he was that little boy again, sitting on the outside, ignored and forgotten while his mother focused on her new man.

Things had simply never gone well for him when Sharon Beck brought a man into their life. Each time she hooked up with a new guy she would get so wrapped up in him it was like she forgot she even had a son. One day after she‘d moved them in with her latest boyfriend, just to see if she’d notice, he disappeared for two full days. He thought for sure she’d be frantic with worry and would cover him with hugs and kisses when he returned. But when he walked through the door, she hadn’t blinked an eye…because she hadn’t even known he was missing. Had simply assumed he’d been up and off to school each morning. He was 9 years old at the time.

And, as if that wasn’t bad enough, because the men his mother hooked up with were usually drug addicts or drug dealers, or sometimes pimps, they were almost always violent. They treated her like dirt and treated him even worse. They beat her and they beat him, and no matter how awful things got she always took their side. And in the end, when Gary the dirtbag got sick of having him around and told her to dump him at the zoo, she had done just that. Nothing in his life would ever hurt more than that betrayal.

Of course he knew that Sharon Raydor was not Sharon Beck, not by a long shot. But when she‘d come to him and said Andy was moving in, all those old feelings had resurfaced, flooding through him in a series of waves. As much as he knew that Andy wasn‘t Gary, that he wasn‘t going to suddenly start knocking him around and that his mother wasn‘t going to get so fixated on Andy she’d forget about him, it was hard to let go of those old feelings. And if he were really examining his emotions, as Dr. Joe made him do, there was something else he was feeling, something Joe told him was a little more expected.

Jealousy.

For four years he’d pretty much had Sharon all to himself. Sure, she had Emily and Ricky and he’d had to work through some of that jealousy when they came home for visits, but they didn’t live close enough to be an everyday presence. And, sure, she had friends that she spent time with, but for the most part, until Andy, her life had pretty much revolved around work and him, especially during the time when his life was being threatened. In the beginning, he’d chafed over what he’d considered her helicopter parenting. For as long as he could remember he’d done whatever he wanted when he wanted and hadn’t had to answer to anyone.

But now, it was different. He liked having a mother who loved and worried about him. Though he wouldn’t admit it to her, it made him feel all warm inside when she immediately placed a hand on his forehead to check his temperature when he said he wasn’t feeling well, or asked what time he was coming home when he went out then checked on him to make sure he‘d returned safe and sound, because for the first time in his life he had someone who really cared about him. And he was afraid of losing that.

Because now there was Andy. Andy was part of the decisions she made. That had never been more apparent than when she’d turned down what could have been a dream job for her, head of security for the NFL because it would take away from the time she could spend with Andy and possibly put a strain on their relationship. He had become such a big part of her life, their life; there was no getting around that. And while it hadn’t been an easy transition, he‘d successfully navigated through it all and, before too long he’d come to realize that having Andy around wasn’t so bad after all, even if he did hog the TV watching ESPN every night. His moving in, once Rusty had come to terms with it, had been a good thing in many ways. Now that his mother had a partner, and they were off doing things together, it took some of the focus off him, gave him greater freedom. And, unlike the way his biological mother had brought men into their lives, Sharon, and to be fair, Andy, had both gone out of their way to make sure that everything went along as it normally had and that he still felt included in their lives. It had been a bit awkward at first. At times he felt like a third wheel, unsure if they really wanted him around or if he was in the way. But they kept extending him invitations; to eat meals with them, to watch TV with them, to go out to a movie with them. And Andy played chess and video games with him while his mother still made his favorite meals and worried about him when he was having a bad day. It felt an awful lot like he was finally part of a traditional family.  

But when Andy found a house up in the Hollywood Hills that he thought Sharon might like, the old fears had rushed through him. Was he in the way? Was he cramping their burgeoning relationship? Would Andy want him gone so he could have Sharon all to himself? He couldn’t help but wonder if maybe they’d like their own place, a place where they wouldn’t have to worry about him walking in while they were making out on the couch or to have to be quiet when they were doing….other things. He’d expressed some of those fears to Buzz, well, everything but the sexy stuff,  and Buzz had told him to get it all out there with Andy. So, he did. Andy had quickly and forcefully, disabused him of such notions, even chuckling over the idea of what Sharon would do to him if she ever thought he was trying to find a way to get rid of her child. Then, Andy had suggested that he join them to look at the house so they could decide as a family if the house was right for them or not.

A family.

That day had been a changing point. From then on, he’d started to view Andy, not as an interloper, not as the man stealing his mother’s attention, not as the man his mother was sleeping with, but instead, as the man his mother loved and with whom she was sharing her life. A man who had become important to him as well. Andy was someone he could turn to for advice. An ally who was willing to help him navigate through the minefields when his mother was set against something he wanted, and who, conversely, wasn’t afraid to tell him to back off when he felt he was pushing her too hard. He was also an honest, but caring source of information about addiction when it came to his biological mother.

Somehow, over time, Andy had become his father figure, and that bond seemed to grow stronger every day. He didn’t trust many people, but Andy had proven himself trustworthy. And when it came to him as a partner for his mother, Rusty no longer had any reservations. Andy loved his mother, he respected her, and there was no denying that he made her happy. Since he’d come into her life she was so much more light-hearted, she laughed more, she teased more and she was far more relaxed. He liked seeing her that way.

So, by the time Andy came to him hoping for his blessing in asking Sharon to marry him, there had been no hesitance at all in his response. His rather exuberant yes had been a no brainer. Maybe it was because he knew Andy so much better now, or, maybe it was because he was getting more mature, but whatever the reason, none of those old feelings of insecurity had resurfaced when they announced they were indeed getting married. This time there were no red flags warning him of possible disasters, nothing to mar the surprising content he felt over their relationship becoming official and permanent.  

“Earth to Rusty?”

Dr. Joe’s amused voice yanked Rusty out of his trip down memory lane. “Uh, what?”

“I was saying that it wasn’t all that long ago that you had reservations about your mother and Andy.”

“Maybe it wasn’t that long ago, but it feels like it was. I can honestly say that I am happy about this marriage. For them. And maybe even for me. “

TBC

[imhereforthetryus]

Love is Hate and there no other way

(Anti Harringroves pls do not intereact with thid fanfiction your welcome to talk about anything else but this fic yes dont worry about the title i just do dEeP 💩 )

Tags: @thelonious-jagger-smitten @i-am-church-the-cat it glitching and so u might have to use the link

Tw: for abuse and panic attacks i apologize deeply i dont know how to do the read more thing im so sorry

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19911385

I be like we self projecting 👋🤦🏼‍♀️😂 noises

(Why get therapy when u can get bad coping methods 😎)

Words:7,932

Billy's eyes were blue kind of like his mother's blue but not really sure he had the paleness blue of his mothers but her eyes were just different he took a lot after his mother, the same not same eyes and bright blonde curls that seemed to grow a foot a month.

He figured that why Neil hated him so much Neil and his mom relationship was weird, in a way not just the whole abuse thing but that Billy could never really tell who was the victim and who was the aggressor.

Sure sometimes it was obvious when Neil was towering over his mother as she stood on the floor tired and hurt but then there were times when both were yelling at each other and trading insults, or his mom eyes pale and blue filled with rage would hit a plate against Neil, clawing at him and screaming truth be told at first it was amusing but he found himself laughing less and more just watching the scene unfold.

“My little Isla...Don’t cry everything is fine...let me tell you an old story of mine...about the necklace” then she would start weaving tales endlessly he would laugh and she would smile she was always a great storyteller she always wanted to be an actor it was kind of ironic how she was acting all the time … acting like everything fine “Is my bunny happy” he would not and hug her and everything would be fine but it wasn’t and maybe it would never be.

Like how if he had just been able to keep his mouth shut about the new boy at school. Who played with Billy the only child to not shun him, and who drew him a picture and how cute he looked and how he was going to marry him one day his dad anger wouldn’t have increased tenfold forever. His mom wouldn’t have left angry at Neil unacceptable of him but then if he hadn’t he wouldn’t have had his mother there to kiss his bruise stinging from Neil fist and the tears from the word faggot he didnt know what it meant but he knew it wasnt good, but she was there she was awalys there to tell him there was “nothing wrong with loving a boy that love is just loving and wherever and whoever you find it with loves you back and that the only thing that matters Isla”

He missed being a child but was he ever a child he was grown up before he knew it. He forced himself to stop thinking about everything focus on something else,...your eyes he had just noticed that his eyes well they were always blue but their not really blue if that made sense they sort of changed blues but to his drunk mind taking dangerous trips fueled by chugged countless cheap beers at Tommy H. Party it didn’t matter.

If he was drunk or sober one thing that stayed the same was he fucking hated this day...hated how his mother had left him and how she loved him she awalys used to say how much she loved him while hugging him gently like it would make Neils slaps , his red cheeks and tears disappear, as if her overwhelming love bundled with hugs and kisses would make up for it, but all it did was make Billy confused if she could love him so easily why couldnt his dad and then she came back.

Like as if she couldn't bother leaving him alone without the emotional damage of coming back she had only done it a few days at a time after years of hiding away with the words or letters getting fewer but then she had ghosted him a year later but he still remembered that day.

He remembered being thirteen his favourite toy bunny the one his mother had when she was a child and the one he spelt with to protect him from the monsters under the bed when she couldn’t sleep with him that beautiful bunny disposed and ripped to shreds it white fur blood-splattered and it head gone all because “he was too old for them” sitting on the floor of his bedroom just praying every night for his mom to come back and take him with her, and trying to lock himself in and saying his prayer faster as if to make her appear right there and then...and she did eventually on the eve of his fourteenth birthday there she was in the flesh, sneaking through the tiny window and grabbing Billy.

She shushed his protest and laughed at him but she was happy so he was happy and very confused But isn't that the life of a child, to be one without power or choice, always going with the change in the wind and praying for a safe harbor? .Wasn't that always his life going with the wind and following the “adults” he was sure they never grew up his mom was still a believer in hope even in despair while that was surely a good thing for her. it wasn't for Billy nothing was ever good for him. He was a ping pong to his parents, a useless fix it child.

They demanded him to pick a side many times even when there was no fight to be won it was a never-ending war to win his love they bad-mouthed each other constantly but he just stood there trying not to intervene in their war of hate, but he had too sometimes when he didn't want to or else he would be the target they desired to know who he loved more, but in truth there is no such distinction. They asked and should the “right” answer not arrive there is anger, swift and brutal in the form of his mom shunning him and his dad hitting him.

So even when his mom came it wasn't for him but just to win another point to piss off Neil, but he was used to the bribes. it wasn't too bad though he could get used to the perks he decided he would make the best of it as his mom carried him on her slim shoulders, he would admire the stars from above to him she stood like a giant.

Or maybe that the way he envisioned her he couldn't help exaggerate her tiny height even when he was boarding on it. he held on close afraid she disappear again just to let him calm his nerves she let him touch her hair curly, long and blonde a shining clone of his and play with her necklace. She had told him the story about how her grandmother had made the necklace from the last of their metal as a birthday gift many times usually with Neil letting a murmur of disapproval fall from his lips but this time it felt different maybe even magical. As they were walking along the boardwalk his socks light against the board, as his mom flowered him with Ice-cream galore. It was his favorite Strawberry and five scoops high he smiled happily letting the dark light shine across his face and the pools of ice cream melt onto his clothes.

They had come across an abandoned climbing place, an adventure playground of sorts, it was dark and quiet but his mom said it was okay and encouraged him to climb the fence.

She had done it too her heels landing against the sand she had laughed so he did, running up against the wooden structure which reeked of paint but she was giddy like a child taking him everywhere. At some point they ran onto the cold wet damp grass in the rain barefoot, her colorful dresses always finding a way to light up in the darkest nights, the light green still stood out even amongst the grass and as they laid there. His mom rubbing his hair and pointing at all the stars and telling him about it like a well of infinite knowledge.

“You see William that star right there” he had nodded hesitantly she rarely called him William, only when she wanted his attention, she usually called him Isla or Bunny and while he protested those pet names as long as he had been living she had just laughed and just pulled him closer he never thought he miss those names so fucking much. before you get the wrong idea she wasn’t dead but it was like that she was a ghost now refusing to acknowledge Billy but this time there were no secret trips to wherever, maybe Billy just outgrew them or his mom outgrew him he wasn't sure which possibility was worse.

As his bruised muscles cracking with pain,up against his hard mattress nothing like a beating and shitty necessities not like Neil gave a damn to his comfort after all, he give him a semi comfortable bed because “cost” but Billy knew that was bullshit.

Neil would do anything to see Billy suffer it was practically his favourite hobby when he wasn’t gutting the insides of fish but it was practically the same Neil would rail in the fish with bait or in Billy cases kind words and flashy gifts. Then he would wait a bit till the fish took the bait like Billy would let his guard down a tiny bit.Then go in for the kill using his fishing pole and fist to kill the fish slowly and painfully like he would to Billy and he knew for a fact that not only were these mattress so stiff and hard. They cost way more for whatever reason rich people like hard mattresses. but it could be worse his dad could have not given him a room at all yeah it could be worse it was something Billy always thought about him finally getting away from Neil not by his own choice but by cps he tried it before but Neil was so charming and Billy wasn’t ten and a half anymore, his mom wasn't there to challenge Neil and to protect him.

He couldn't risk a visit now so it would never happen not by any fault of his own at least he knew Neil could predict most of his movements.

He heard the horror stories he wasn’t going to subject himself to any more shit and while his dad was shit he was still legally required to provide for him otherwise how else would he use that line in his next argument, to justify his parenting methods and to complain about how hard it was raising a useless piece of shit like Billy and to think of it his father sure loved to complain about useless shit.

But he couldn’t complain he never could without a slap against his cheeks or his dad's famous speech scientifically designed to make anyone who hears it feel like shit which Billy already was, but hey the speech is such a great deal for shitty dads everywhere who wouldn’t love to mentally toture their child when their fist became too bruised to hit them.

And in all honesty Billy loathed that speech more than he loathed himself, more than he loathed his dads fist, more than he loathed girls how he hated to fuck them and go out with them and even more than he loathed Harrington.

Stupidly perfect Harrington who made Billy heart skip and leap, who made Billy blush at an insult who made Billy nervous and not just out of fear, he made Billy scared way too scared.

He could not be with Harrington even if he wasn't straight which he couldn't be because almost all the gays in California used Farrah Fawcett Hairspray it how they found each other.

Not like Billy ever went as far like that even then he was too much of a coward, his pale blue eyes glanced at the alarm finally calm for once because this was his favourite part of the day, when he could just lay in bed and glanced up at the ugly peach ceiling letting his thoughts flowed like a river stream quiet yet loud.

He pulled the wool cover closer shivering in his empty room another form of sadstic toture if Neil wasn’t beating the shit out of him he was fucking up Billys air and heat supply. He never knew when he would be hot or cold plus it was just another way for Neil to keep him on his fucking toes.

Like he didnt do that every single fucking day, with Neil mood deciding if Billy could only get away with a slap and a walk outside in the snow and how he hated the cold, he wasnt used to it . Ofcourse, he was a California Baby he could stand hot weather but not cold especially when he only had one blanket to protect himself. Because everything belonged to Neil if he pissed Neil off too much his belongings would be gone because they were never his , Neil spiteful face popped up and he imagined another cruel smile as he “grounded” Billy.

“You need to learn a lesson about Respect and Responsibility” he saw his dad, felt him “punishing” Billy, he felt his tears and struggled to get out of this hellish nightmare, his breath heavy, breathe breathe don't be such a pussy his panic attack was stopped by a knock on his door he opened the door angrily.

“What the fuck do you want M-..” his father stared at him stone cold and hard like he awalys was calculating watching Billy squirm.

“Is this how you talk to your sister” he grabbed Billy chin and squeezed it tight.

“No sir” Billy tried to make himself shorter, trying to disappear into the wall but it never worked, no matter how he wished it did but his father was in a good mood suprisngly so he let Billy off with a slap and a spilt lip, and Billy could thank him right then and there for not beating the shit out of him for being so rude and disrespectful, but the stare of disappointment and the glare was more painful than the backhand.

Billy forced himself to go downstairs dreading every step to eat with his “family” as far as Billy was conserend his mom was his only family but all his stubbornness did was put Neil in a bad mood.

“You’re Mother is gone Billy suck it up” he would say chewing his steak and despite Billy hating eating breakfast with Susan and Neil , being under his dad microscope was irritating and annoying but he knew if he didn't eat all his food, thank Susan, and be quiet and not exist then there wouldn’t be any food to digest, because Neil had done it before It was either eat everything Susan made no matter how much it taste like horseshit or not eat at all or even worse eat the way Neil wanted him too and while Billy personally thought both options were cruel and unusual toture and neither qualified as the best option but he still needed food to survive so he ate it all.

Every last spoonful in fear for Neil trailing eyes on him, his back arching aganist the chair, eating softly and trying not to throw up watching Max shoveling burned eggs and bacon into her mouth, his mom food was way better.

He glared at Susan subtly as he thanked her how he wanted to go off on her but he wasn't in the mood to skip school today and be bruised. so instead he took his anger out on Max he yelled at her to get up, which resulted in her eating her scrambled eggs slower then finally getting up and taking forever to get ready, grabbed Max by the elbow when she wasn't moving fast enough. he hated running into Neil in the morning who was less of a morning person than Billy and he grabbed her hard enough to bruise but not enough to get shit from Neil.

He ignored her screaming at him to the point where she was being a cocky little shit, and had the nerve to put her disgusting mud covered red shoes on his dashboard, with a little grin that stupid brat and when he told her to knock it off she flipped him off. so he drove like a manic letting his hands off the steering and speeding up just to see the fear in her eyes and dropped her off to the stares of the middle schoolers.

He drove back even faster it was the only way plus he couldn't miss getting ready for his favorite class of the day aka Bothering Steve for 40 minutes, he stood against his Camero letting cigarette smoke fill the air, then he went inside shoving a couple of kids who dared to look at Billy in anyway no one was that stupid to do it on purpose but still he had to install fear or he would be scared.

He wasn't always mean he used to be kind but kindness never got him anything but a broken heart and fag screamed at his face by older boys, a shove to the ground and the laughter of his classmates it never gave him anything but humiliation.

So He hid behind a charming carefree smile and reinvented himself, learning to keep his feelings inside to stop thinking about boys that way. The hurt lodged in that sweet heart like a slow acting poison and before long he became a “problem child,” destined for a life behind bars. He hated his “parents,” hated the system, hated the government and the whole damn world he had to or he would hate himself.

The hate It burst forth in his speech, his actions, his attitude. He got close to people just to hurt them, power at last. Nothing pleased him more than to walk away from a new lover ripping their valentines while they whimpered and ran, To shove a kid down and make him cry to spit the word fag in the kids fave.. To Billy people were “bad, dangerous, and they deserved what they got." Because he deserved what he had gotten.

Steve loathed first period, not only because it's English Class but Billy who made it his personal goal to harass Steve anytime he could which meant every class they shared together. Because Billy obviously didn't think his crude and sexual teasing,his fists and trips down the hallway was enough time to toture Harrington and fortunately for Steve.

There were only four classes but that meant Billy had to make an impression so Steve sighed as Billy came in late what a surprise , came up to him, knocking his books down against the floor, Mrs.Ava looked like she was going to say something but the look Billy gave her shut her up Steve reisted a snort great everyone was intimidated by Billy.

As the minutes of the lesson passed, the ceaseless buzzing of the classroom grew quieter watching them it was no secret that Billy and Steve weren’t pals but a look of shock always seemed to come on their face watching their interactions a quiet glance from Billy made the chatter started up again and they pretended to be talking about something else and looked away.

“Hey Prettyboy” Billy licked his lips at him, slamming into the seat next to Steve, Billy smiled at him.

Steve rolled his eyes trailing the pencil in between his fingers, he was way too tired to deal with Billy “Don't you have someone else to bother” .

Billy pouted giving him a small smirk he even makes puppy eyes look evil Steve sighed.

“But you’re my favourite Stevie” Steve kicked Billy from under the table.

“Fuck off” Billy just laughed and reisted the urge to whimper why was he being so weak it was just a little cut there Billy felt himself ponder looking at Steve who was trying very hard not to look at Billy and to focus on the lesson which Billy should be doing to, but Steve and his perfect lips and how much Billy wanted to kiss them, his soft hair i wonder what it would feel like oh how he wanted to kiss Steve, shove him against a wall, fuck him and punch him all at the same time why do you have to be so damn amazing Harrington.

“Ouch you really hurt my feelings Harrington..I think i just shed a tear” Billy smiled oh how he loved first period plus steve was so cute when he was annoyed FAG his mind screamed he reisted the urge to punch himself, Steve gave Billy a small smirk.

“Bullshit you dont have feelings” Billy chuckled slowly unbutoing his top not like it was open anyways but cmon if he didnt give the cows here a show people might think he a fag which he is , he winked to Steve.

“You’re right about that Pretty Boy” Steve glared and turned towards the window suddenly interested in the blue sky and clouds that dotted the sky. The bell rang finally freedom Steve thought he was one comment away from shoving his pencil up Billy ass.

why does he have to be such an asshole even worse a cute one and yeah it was pretty cliche of him to have a crush on his bully. but like can you blame him Billy was hot and straight his mind screamed at him it was too risky plus he didnt think he could handle Billy disgust more than his fists but Billy was so hot and an asshole but hes a hot one.

Steve groaned in frustration stupid horny brain but this felt weird and different he didnt like boys right i mean, and if he was gay which he wasn’t wasnt he liked nancy for a long time goodness sake then couldn’t he atleast have a crush on a boy who isnt an asshole, but what was he, after all if you weren’t straight then you were gay but he liked both he couldn’t possibly be gay and straight at the same time, there had to be a word and Steve had to investigate it for his sake so on he went after Mrs. Ava class to the library.

-

Steve ducked from Nancy and Jonathan he felt bad about missing lunch but if they even knew where he was going they would ask questions he wasn't ready to answer yet when he saw them leave he sprinted towards his car driving to the town library which was well not im Hawkins but the next town over he couldn’t bare to see anyone he knew. He opened the doors to the library entering he was hit with a cloud of dust, and started to look around.

Row after row of neatly lined up books with their spines facing outward, colour coded with dots, fiction section arranged in alphabetical order, young adults section, comfortable chairs, tables for quiet study, muffled stillness.

He took a breath walking up to the resident sub librarian Mrs. Mervil the hawk who stood about 5’4 her lip always tight and pressed as if she was simply always waiting for disappointment as if she never bothered to smile, her eyebrows and eyes were thin and like her whole self her clothes reflected that always dread and uncolorful, so professional and tight. It made Steve parents outfits look casual and who despite Steve best try hated him for whatever reason, maybe it was the blonde hair and sapphire blue eyes those combinations always seemed to despise Steve or just everyone but mostly Steve.

He gave her a false smile “Hi Mrs.Mervil” she turned towards him. her eyes cold and bored she took off her silver rimmed glasses for a young woman she sure acted old she put down whatever book she was reading he examined it, she slammed it before he could see the title but it was a space book for sure.

“What is it Steven” he sighed and gave her a smile he hoped his face wasn't giving away anything.

“Mr.Harrington if you’re just going to stand there and go dont waste my time” he bit his lip and shoved his hands deeper in his cardigan. He couldn’t do this she already hated him she could tell everyone, or even worse whatever worse was. But he needed to know this more than he needed to breathe, he could wait but he wasn't willing to wait.

“I need to find a book...to tell me about my sexuality” at that her face and demeanor softened a bit like she was remancissing she gave him a small smile and lead him towards the shelf her heels dragging along the whole way.

“Alright come along Steven I don't have all day” he sighed in relief and walked up with her, he tried to make conversation as she rustled through the books.

[one-grimm-bitch]

Need Nothin’ But You - Snowbaz

fic for @urahnia!! happy birthday bean!! love you lots <##

tw: homophobic language/violence

(for reference: Baz’s POV refers to Ebb as Ms.Petty, Simon refers to her as Ebb)

***

Baz watched as Snow chewed his lip in concentration, brows knitting together before he continued to scribble numbers on his page. Baz suppressed a chuckle as Snow gritted his teeth- turning the pencil upside down to erase another mistake from his page. He raised his hand silently, urging their teacher over, and displaying his own work expectedly.

“I think this should be right,” Baz said quietly- yet apparently loud enough for Snow to hear- as he turned around in his seat to glare at Baz. Ms.Petty checked the problem and his answer before giving him a nod.

“Nice work, Basilton,” she sent him a small smile and then made on her way back to her desk. Baz gave Snow- who was still glaring at him, the imp- a smug grin. Snow rolled his eyes and turned harshly in his seat back to his own page.

***

Simon hated the way Baz Pitch could get under his skin so easily. He gripped his pencil harder, tongue poked out in concentration as his mind relayed the steps to properly find zeros of the function. How Baz had managed to complete the first problem in two minutes was beyond him- and the words Penny had told him in the beginning of the year reverberated in his mind. Just because he can do something great doesn’t mean that you’re not doing good as well, don’t let him stop you from doing your best, Simon. And so Simon attempted to push all thoughts of the long-haired git from his mind, focussing solely on the headache-inducing number of x’s on his page to solve for.

By the time he completed the series of problems they were given the bell was about to ring, and most students had already gathered their things into their bags. Simon’s head popped up when the screeching of Baz’s chair disrupted him from his thoughts. He watched in curiosity as the boy left the room a minute early, not even giving Ebb a glance as he strode out of the room seemingly without a thought. Simon gaped at Ebb, silently asking for an explanation, she smiled and shrugged.

“It’s not my place to tell you, Simon,” was all she gave him before the bell truly did ring, and Simon was rushing to get everything in his pack and racing out the door.

***

Baz walked quickly in the few minutes he had before all of the students would be let from their classes to go to their next ones. He was thankful to Ms.Petty, who had understood his situation and offered a solution that had certainly saved him one or two times. For Baz, walking through the halls of his school to his next class took more strength than it really should. Ever since it was revealed that he was gay, he’d occasionally gotten shoved unceremoniously and had unkind words whispered and taunted in his ear. Leaving early allowed him to avoid it all, and Ms.Petty was one of the only teachers he had who let him do so.

He greeted Niall as he sat down at their lunch table, grinning as his friend launched into a story about how his modern government teacher had gotten drunk the previous night and made hilarious posts to their school’s website. Baz shook his head as he laughed, and was too caught up in his conversation that he didn’t notice the now silent lunchroom, or the football player standing behind him.

*** Simon felt uneasiness churn in his gut as Higgins approached Baz, and most of the room seemed to notice it too, a spell of silence overtaking everyone. For a reason he couldn’t place, Simon wished for the smile and laughter that was just there to reappear on Baz’s face. Baz was now realizing that everyone was staring at him, and looked behind himself briefly before Higgins grabbed him by the color and lifted him like he was nothing.

Simon gasped as Baz struggled under his grip, a kick to Higgin’s groin eventually getting him to let go.

“Niall’s one of our best players, we don’t want a queer like you messing him up,” Higgins snarled, and Simon felt anger scorch through him. Baz stood up from where he had been dropped to the ground and brushed off his pants casually before he chuckled.

“I didn’t realize having a gay friend affects one’s football skills,” Baz replied.

“Back the fuck off,” Niall gritted his teeth at Higgins.

“What, defending your boyfriend now?” Higgins first approaching Baz was shocking in itself, but nothing could’ve prepared Simon to watch Baz reel back his arm and hit Higgins right on the nose. Higgins stumbled back a few steps, clutching his bleeding nose with his fist. “You’re gonna pay for that, faggot,” Higgins snarled. Simon jumped up from his seat, and ignoring Penny’s protests, he ran forward and punched Higgins in the gut as he stepped forward to harm Baz.

“Stay the fuck away from him!” Simon shouted, Higgins glared at him, and was about to stand back up to retaliate before a teacher stepped between them, ending the fight.

***

“I’m glad they let us off the hook,” Snow said. He had his elbows on his knees and hands clasped like he was going to pray. Baz eyed Snow suspiciously.They were sitting outside of the principal’s office, the three highest officials in their school currently berating a bleeding and bruised Higgins for approaching Baz. A curl fell right over Snow’s eye, and Baz resisted the urge to tuck it back for him.

“You call one month’s detention ‘off the hook’?” Baz asked, Simon shrugged.

“Could’ve been expelled,” He replied, he was chewing his lip in concentration again.

“This is your fault, you know-” Baz started, but he was cut off.

“What? It was your ass who punched him first, I was just trying to stop him from killing you- which- no offense- but he totally could,” Simon rambled.

“I didn’t need you to protect me, as much as it hurts your ego for me to say it”

“Oh, my ego-” Simon was cut off as the door beside them squeaked open, a grim looking Natasha Pitch eyeing them both.

“Come back inside, please,” She said, her tone was clipped, and Baz hated it when she spoke to him in her “teacher voice”.

“Higgins has something he would like to say to you both, and I believe you two have something to say to him as well,” She gestured to Higgins, who was red in the face.

“I’m sorry I called you inappropriate things, that is not the conduct we have at Watford,” He mumbled robotically, looking all the part like he did very much not mean the words he had just said.

“And I’m sorry I punched you in the face as a response,” Baz replied, tone just as cool as his mother’s.

“Yeah, er- me too, for punching you in the stomach and all,” Simon muttered quickly.

“You all know your punishments, dismissed,” his mother stated. Baz knew he would get a mouthful at home, but was thankful that she didn’t call him in her office right away.

***

“Baz!” Simon called, with a nod from Ebb, he followed the Pitch out of the classroom and into the empty hallways. “Wait up!” They hadn’t spoken since the “fight” (though one couldn’t really call it one)- two days ago.

“What do you want, Snow?” Baz asked, not stopping his brisk pace. Simon had to quicken his stride to keep up with the taller boy.

“Er- could you help me in maths?” “Could I do what?” Baz asked incredulously.

“I’m falling behind and you’re the best in class- also I think punching the same guy we both hate makes us closer than algebra 2 rivals, yeah?” Baz stopped walking to turn and raise a brow at Simon.

“Algebra 2 rivals?”

“Well- yeah, but now I need your help- and I helped you against Higgins- whether you wanted me to or not,” Simon replied. Baz groaned out a fine through gritted teeth and Simon pumped his fist in the air with a victorous “Yes!”

“You’re a bloody mess, you know that, Snow?” Baz had chuckled, and in that moment Simon couldn’t understand why that made his heart beat a bit faster in his chest.

***

“You never did tell me why you helped me that day,” Baz told him randomly. They were sat in the library, peering over the study guide Ebb had given them for the test tomorrow.

“I dunno, felt like the right thing to do, I guess,” Simon answered with a shrug, he circled his answer on the page and sighed when Baz shook his head.

“I’m not a damsel in distress, Snow,” Baz replied, “Look at the divisor,” He nodded to the page and Simon gasped in realization before he began to solve the question again.

“Well duh, but that doesn’t mean I can’t bash Higgins in the gut if I want to.” Simon was smiling as he glanced back up at Baz, and his eyes widened as Baz grinned back.

“What?” Baz asked inquisitively.

“Nothing- er- just think I’ve mucked up the division again,” Simon answered quickly. Baz looked at his work.

“Yeah, you did”

***

“Snow?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you care?”

“Care about what?” Simon turned to look at Baz. They were lying on Simon’s messy bed after completing a study session, Simon not wishing to admit the heat that had flooded his cheeks when Baz had sat- somehow gracefully- onto his bed, wrinkling his nose slightly at the crumpled sheets and proceeding to  tie his hair up into a bun.

“That I’m gay,” Baz stated simply, and Simon froze.

“No? I mean- I wouldn’t ask you to tutor me if I had a problem with it,” Simon answered. Baz was giving him a strange look.

“Ok,” He was smiling now, “I’m glad,” Baz said, and Simon felt a well of happiness go up through his chest. It was the way that Baz’s eyes gleamed and crinkled as he smiled, so truly beautiful that Simon couldn’t stop the revelation that poured from his mouth.

“IthinkImightbegaytoo,” He said too quickly.

“You- what?” Baz stuttered, he was looking at Simon like he was a madman.

“I- I think I’m gay,” Simon whispered. He didn’t know why he was telling Baz of all people first. Maybe it was because he knew that Baz wouldn’t be homophobic- for obvious reasons- but also that he felt like he could trust the boy.

“Have you told anyone else?” Baz asked. And Simon flushed, turning away.

“No,” He mumbled.

“Then why me?” Baz asked.

“‘Cause,” Simon said, focussing his attention on his hands that sat on his lap.

“Cause I’m the only other out person you know?”

“No- cause- cause you’re you,” Simon said desperately.

“I’m- what are you saying?” Baz questioned and Simon huffed in annoyance.

“You’re you,” was all Simon mumbled again before he was looking back up and grabbing Baz’s shoulder, tugging him into an awkward and chaste kiss. At first Baz didn’t react, and Simon froze in fear, before plush lips were moving tentatively against his own. Simon sighed happily into Baz’s mouth, before he pulled back a few seconds later.

“I-” Baz stuttered. “Who knew you’d be gay for me, Snow,” He smirked, and with his cheeks and ears blushing a bright red and his mind gooey, Simon laughed.

[minnuet-archive]

I’m Sorry, Logan

(I'm not talking about Logan Sanders, but I do have a character named Logan that’s based loosely off of him. TW: Suicide)

I wake up to my alarm blaring in my ears. My eyelids refuse to lift and the world is a blurry mess.  I stumbled into my uniform, the alarm still blaring.  Eventually my patience ran out and I shut off the alarm. My backpack is lying in the corner and I shove it on. I grab a granola bar from the pantry and run to the school bus that’s already parked outside.  

I jump into the bus. I walk down the aisle and all of the noise, ranging from random conversation to yelling and fighting, fill my ears and overwhelm my mind. I almost want to plug my ears, but someone’s bound to take offense. As I sit down in a seat next to the seemingly quietest kids, the horrible stench of  7 year old raisins with a generous side of sweaty gym socks permeates my nose.  I hate the bus. I decide to try to space out.

When I arrive at the school, I went into the girl’s bathroom and wait until everyone had left the bathroom. I look really weird waiting for people to leave, and I kind of care. I kind of don’t though. Once everyone had gone, I slipped out of my catholic school uniform skirt and into pants.

My mother had refused to get me anything but the “girl’s” uniform which consisted of a tight, long skirt and a blouse. I hear the bell and run to class. I burst into the classroom and slide into my seat directly after my name is called.

“Late.” I  groan and get out my homework. Why must it be me?

Vanessa and her friends snicker across the classroom. “Hey look, the plant’s here.”

My ears burned and I clenched my teeth. Those assholes. I’m not a plant. “My name’s El-” My eyes widen as I catch myself. “-Ellie.”

Vanessa gasps overdramatically and then says, “It can talk?!”

I don’t respond and give her what she wants, but it takes all of my strength not to. God, how am I so stupid? I don’t care if I’m using the Lord’s name in vain. I already let them know I was asexual! And if I let it slip? My name’s Elliott. I could just imagine the crap they’d do and say to me. What would I tell them? Oh yeah, by the way, I’m pangender. That would totally work.

I take deep breaths. I look at the teacher and zoning out is easy for me. The lunch bell rings after a while and I walk towards the courtyard, finding one of the trees in the corner that no one ever sat by. It’s kind of sad and droopy, just like me.

“Hey Elliott!” I flinch at the noise. He smiles and sits down next to me.

I relax and say, “Hey Logan. How was the class?”

“How was class? Class was bull crap,” I crack a smile and when I do, he adds “as always. I love how you did your hair today. It’s pretty.”

As I eat my brought-from-home lunch, I look at him and blush. He’s way too cute. I now turn even redder and look away as I shove my sandwich farther into my mouth. Too far. The lunch bell rings after a few minutes. “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow Logan. Bye!”

He high fives me and starts walking towards his classroom. I walk towards mine. After Mr. Simon takes role call and I answer one question, I figure I’m safe and promptly space out for the rest of the day.

The bell rings and right as I’m about to walk out of the door, I heard Mr. Simon say, “Eleanor, may I speak to you?” A collective ‘oooh, you’re in trouble’ type sound comes from what’s remaining of the class as I walk up to his desk.

“Can I help you Mr. Simon?”

“Do you remember the dress code guidelines we went over at the beginning of the year?”

I start to panic. “Uh, yeah.”

“Then you remember that girls are to wear skirts and a blouse and that boys are to wear a button down and pants.”

I mutter that I might remember something like that. “Why can’t I wear pants? I’m not wearing anything completely out of school uniform.”

“Yes, but we have a strict dress code and you, as a girl,” I flinch at the word girl. Of course, I can’t correct him. “are to wear a skirt. If you come to school tomorrow wearing pants, I’ll have you change back into a skirt, confiscate the pants, and then call your parents.”

I nodded my head as if I understand, which I don’t, and then walk out of the classroom. I know he hates me, but I had no clue he would go to these lengths to get me in trouble. I really don’t want to wear a skirt and that was only the first time I wore pants. On the other hand, I don’t want them to get taken away because I had to save up for months to get them and I don’t want to have to deal with my parents.

As I walk home, I approach the entrance to the Golden Gate Bridge and smile. It’s so beautiful. Late afternoon fog is quite unusual this time of year and most people don’t like it, but I’m secretly happy about it. Walking the bridge is a really nice way to clear your mind in the morning. The breeze makes my clothes flow in the wind. The smell of salt water in the air fills my nose as I approach one end of the bridge.  

I start to cross the bridge and into the fog. It’s peaceful and the moist air feels cool and nice against my skin.

After around 45 minutes, I come out on the other side of the bridge. I continue to walk towards my house.

I can’t wait to lay down on the couch and not worry about homework.  Not because I finished it, but because I’m a procrastinator.

I turn down my street and see my house. As I approach it, I realize that my house has been egged. I see a note on the door and run up and grab it. Leave our school, you faggot. You don’t belong here.

Vanessa, her boyfriend, and their asshole friends were right about the last part. I don’t belong here. I wish I could leave, but it isn’t exactly possible. I rip up the note and look up at the eggs that are covering my home.

Ugh, I don’t want to clean this up… but my parents will ask why it happened if I don’t. Plus, they’ll make me do it anyway. I sigh as I slowly walk inside to grab a mop and some other cleaning supplies.

I open the closet door and grab everything I think I might need. I’ve never cleaned up eggs, so I’m just guessing.

I walk back outside and start to wipe the door with a random rag that I found. Once I finish cleaning everything that I can reach from the ground, I place all my supplies on the roof overhang. I awkwardly climb onto the overhang. P

I got on my knees shakily and started to clean the roof. Damn, could these kids throw. It takes what seems like years, but was really a couple hours to finish cleaning the house.

I take a risk and jump from the overhang. I didn’t break any bones! Yay!  I grab all the cleaning supplies and shove them in a closet as I walk to my room. I get changed into some paint stained jeans and a band t-shirt that my parents begrudgingly bought me for Christmas.

I walk back out and throw myself on the couch. I log into an app that’s similar to tumblr except not as widely known. It has less asshole-ish people. I open a chat with one of my best friends,  AchillesWasTheOriginalGay™ also known as Bentley or Ben. Sometimes I call him Benjamin because he hates when people assume his name.

Me: What’s up, Benjamin?

He responds almost immediately.

Ben: You’re an ass. But not much. You?

Me: House got egged. Assholes at school.

Ben: Oof that sucks, dude.

Ben: Hey I gtg do homework. Talk later?

Me: Sure.

I turn off my phone and put it down. I hear my mom pull up so I sit up and take out my school binder. I place my homework from yesterday in front of me so I look like I’ve been doing homework since the second I got home.

Directly after I finished setting up my fake homework station, she walked in. “Hey, mom!” No, too cheery. Calm down.

She smiles happily, “Hi, Ellie!” I cringe at my old name, but she didn’t seem to notice my overly excited greeting. “How was your day?” My little sister, Adia follows her in and then runs to our room.

I consider telling her that it wasn’t great for a second but decide against it, because she’d just ask questions. “It was good. Yours?”

“It was fine. Busy as always.” I give her a knowing nod and then I see her smile slowly fade. I tilt my head in confusion. “What did I tell you about those jeans? You can only wear them when you’re painting. They’re disgusting and baggy. Wear some nice tights next time.”

I roll my eyes and she scoffs as she walks into the kitchen. She puts her bags down. Adia runs back out of our room with a stuffed animal in her hands and she sits down next to me.

“Hi Adia. Did you have fun at school today?”

”Yeah!! I played with Sammy.”

“That’s fun.” She smiles proudly as if having a friend was something to be proud of, which in my case, is true, but in her case, not so much. She has lots of friends.

I’m contemplating this when I hear my mom start to reheat leftovers from last night. She slaps all of the food on three plates and we trudge over to the table and sit down.

My mom turns on the T.V. and we watch a sitcom as we shovel food into our faces. Eventually, the episode ends. We're too lazy to change the channel, so we leave it.

My mom is seated facing the screen and I watch her chuckle. I turn to the T.V. and freeze. It's a pride parade. All of a sudden I hear Adia’s excited voice.

“Ooooh! Rainbows!” I look at her and smile a little bit. She doesn’t even know. Sometimes I wish I don’t know about LGBTQ+.

“Those rainbows are for gay people.” My mom says gay as if it’s the worst thing you can be.

Mom continues, “You don’t want to be gay. Being gay is bad. You’ll go to hell if you’re gay.”

Now she just looked confused. “Why is it bad?”

“Because a man is supposed to be with a woman. That’s how God created us.” Mom says.

I finish eating my food as fast as I can to escape this horrible conversation and then interrupt. “Can I be excused? I’m getting tired.”

Before my mom can respond, my father swings open the front door.

This time, it’s not just me who’s frozen. He’s holding a beer bottle. His tie is loose. The top button of his shirt is unbuttoned and it’s stained.

What makes it most obvious that it’s happened again is his eyes. They’re huge. And not in the caring way.

He smiles goofily and stares at Adia and I. “No hug? No ‘Hi daddy!’ or ‘Thanks for working your ASS off every day to provide for us’ ?”

My first instinct is to pull Adia closer to me and step one foot in front of her. My second instinct is to throw something at him so we can all run.

I hold back. Mom’s too close to dad. She would never be able to run away in time. He could hit her. Even break a bottle over her head and kill her. She’s not a good person, but she doesn’t deserve that.

“Go. To your rooms. Now.” I turn to my mom in utter surprise.

“But mom-“

“GO. NOW.”

I grab Adia and make sure she’s safe and locked in her room before running to mine. I press my ear against the door because I might be able to get an idea of what’s happening. I can’t hear anything.

I slump down and hang my head in my hands. Holy christ, what is wrong with my family?? Why doesn’t she just kick him out when he’s hungover? Why don’t WE leave?

I can't deal with this.

I'm sobbing now. I clench my teeth to trap the noise in my mouth.

Over the course of a few minutes, I draw myself up onto my knees and then stand up, walking over to sit down at my desk and start to scribble words that seem right on a paper. After a minute of writing, I reread it. It's not good enough. I crumple up the piece of paper and throw it in the trash.

I hug my knees tightly, trying not to make any form of sound. My breathing slows back to normal the longer to sit there and I grab another piece of paper. I start to write once again, this time neater.

I wake up the same way as yesterday. I put on my pants and blouse. I don’t care if Mr. Simon tries to force me to wear a skirt. I’m not taking any bullcrap on my last day of school. And life.

I walk onto the bus and don’t even pay any attention to the kids that are already on it. I hear a kid yell “Get off, dyke!” and I resist flipping him off… well, I try to resist flipping him off.

   I take my time walking into the classroom and I sit next to Logan. A kid comes up to me.

“You’re sitting in my seat.”

“Yeah. I know. My seat’s over there. Feel free to take it.” He looks as if he’s about to say something more, but he turns to walk towards my actual seat.

   Logan looks at me. I wonder if he knows something off. That taking some other kid’s seat isn’t something I’d normally do.

   If he notices, he doesn’t mention it. “Hey. How was your day?” He laughs and then adds, “Holy crap that was such a mom question.”

   I snort and answer, “Oh my god, you’re right. But it was good. I’m tired as heck though.”

   “No kidding.” I grin at him as Mr. Simon looks at us again. I don’t really pay attention in math. I just talk to Logan. It’s relaxing to not have to care. To not have to worry about the consequences to my actions.

   When we walk to lunch, I start complaining to Logan about how much of the day we have left.

   “Uhh, you know that we have an early day, right?”

   “Oh! I do now.” He chuckles and smiles. I feel my cheeks get a little bit warm. He starts to talk about some fandom of his and I try my hardest to pay attention.

   I don’t really know what triggers this, although I have an idea, but I realize something. I’ve never kissed someone. Ok, this needs to change. Dying a virgin is one thing, but never having kissed someone? That’s a whole other level of sad. I feel weird thinking this, but I know exactly who I want to be my first and last kiss.

   He’s about to start another thought, but I interrupt him. I don’t care. “You’re amazing.”

   He looks at me as if I said the strangest thing that could possible said. “I mean it. You’re always there for me and you talk to me about things we like. I feel I don’t thank you enough for that.”

   He still looks weirded out but smiles warmly. “Right back at you,” he responds as he fidgets with his hands and looks down at his shoes. I gesture for him to continue and, without hesitation, he does.

   Logan sighs and packs up his lunch as the bell rings.

“Hey, will you walk home with me? I know you normally hang out here for a while but I want to talk to you.” I know this is a risk.

   Just like before, he doesn’t say anything, but now I’m sure that we both know something’s wrong. “Yeah, of course.”

   We grab our stuff and we start walking. He starts walking faster and gets ahead. This is not acceptable.

   I break into a full sprint and he starts to chase me. We’re laughing so hard we can barely breathe. When we reach the bridge, were both out of breath. We bend over and start panting like dogs on a hot day.

   I break into a full sprint and he starts to chase me. We're laughing so hard we can barely breathe. When we reach the bridge, were both out of breath. We bend over and start panting like dogs on a hot day.

I stand up straight again and look at him. His face is glowing and his brown eyes are big and happy. He runs his hand through his slicked back (with both gel and sweat) hair and adjusts his glasses. He even tightens his tie. What a dork.

I know this is the moment. I move closer to him and pull his tie towards me with one arm and put the other around him as I kiss him.

The salty air blows through my hair and I feel on top of the world. After a couple of seconds, I step away. He looks confused. He wasn't ok with it. Oh god, what have I done? I'm about to keep running down the bridge when he hugs me.

This time, I'm the unprepared one. After a minute, he lets go and slides his hand into mine. We continue walking across the bridge. There's nothing we need to say and it feels amazing.

We don't have to explain ourselves. We can just walk quietly together. And it's not awkward.

   My happiness fades away as I realize this is the first and last time I’ll be able to do this. I couldn’t change my mind if I wanted to. I already taped the note on to his backpack when he hugged me. This has to be the last time. Nothing good can last forever. Nothing can last forever.

   We reach the other side. “Goodbye, Logan.”

   He laughs. “You say it like this is the last time I’ll ever see you. This is just goodbye for now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

   I feel my heart shatter a little bit more than it already had but I cover it up with a soft smile. “Yeah. It’s just goodbye for now.” He leans in and kisses my cheek and then whirls around.

   He starts to walk towards his house. I turn towards the water.

Tears spill silently down my face. I put my hand over my mouth to muffle my sobs. I want to run to Logan and scream his name, but I can’t. This has to be done alone.

I lift one foot onto the railing and then the other. This is it.

One last tear slips down my face as I whisper raspily, “I’m sorry, Logan.” I know it will be peaceful. A quiet ending. Not that I deserve one, but I guess it’s a favor to myself. I let go of the pole that I had been holding onto.

And then I’m falling.

Falling.

Falling.

Falling.

Gone.

[spnxmarvel-fanfic]

Fairytale!Destiel AU : Chapter Nine

Supernatural or Marvel

Pairing: Dean Winchester/Castiel (Destiel)

Warnings: Use of the “f” slur (gay), angst I guess, homophobic behaviour 

Words: 1374

Description: Castiel finally tells Dean about his curse, or is it too late?

Note: again, I’m so sorry for the wait, things have been... interesting. 

if the f slur is triggering for you, please don’t read. I put a summary in the end notes on the chapter on ao3 if you would rather read that.

chapters one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight 

ao3

Castiel didn’t tell Dean.

He’d tried. Oh, he tried so hard to tell him but the words never came out. He’s told Dean he loves him more than intended to, but that wasn’t the biggest of his problems.

His eighteenth birthday was tomorrow.

The prince had mainly wanted to stay away from his family. They had tried reaching out to Castiel in the beginning but ultimately gave up in helping him. So he slept at the castle, and at the crack of dawn, he was running out of there, waiting for Dean at their spot.

Now, Dean still had a family that hadn’t betrayed him (yet), and he had a job, so Castiel still spent so much time alone. Time stewing over the curse, his mind begging him to accept it so he could enjoy these last days with the man he loved.

But Dean’s face brought him back to defiance every time. Goddamn, Free Will was hard.

Castiel didn’t tell Dean; not because he was afraid of the curse, but because he was afraid Dean would leave him. And all he wanted was to spend his last days with the person who made him happiest. Was that selfish?

He’d tell him. Eventually. It wouldn’t be fair of him not to.

Dean had to leave earlier today, his father had been getting home earlier and earlier, and the older Winchester brother didn’t want anything to happen to his little brother. But they were going to meet later tonight, and Castiel was going to tell him. He had to.

He was out of time.

Walking back from the river, he shook his wet hands dry. Being cold hurt at night, where the wind stung the drying parts of his hands. Castiel thought that it was the best way to freshen himself up to… prepare himself for the conversation.

Humming as he walked, he tried to ignore the birds tweeting at him, assumingly trying to join in on a song never sung before. Little did he know it was a warning.

There was a dark silhouette already there when he arrived, surprising the prince. Dean had told him ten o’clock and surely it wasn’t that time yet.

“Hey,” Dean said, although it was a little less… Dean-like.

So much was already going through Castiel’s mind, from the event that would take place by this time tomorrow, to Dean’s possible reaction, causing his hands to shake. The last thing he was worried about was Dean lurking in the shadows, hiding his bright smile and beautiful eyes that looked upon Castiel lovingly.

“Hey, Dean,” he rubbed the back of his neck, every inch of his willpower working to not make Castiel sound sheepish. It wasn’t enough.

The hunter went to take a step forward when Castiel realised how their current positions would make everything easier. For him.

Not seeing Dean’s reaction would spare his heart being stabbed through twice.

“Wait! Don’t move, stay there,” the prince held out his hands, halting the other man in his tracks. “It’ll be easier this way.” It’s easier with five feet between us.

“What’s going on?” Dean’s voice growled from the dark. To Castiel’s ears, it was dripping with concern.

“I’m-” Just take a deep breath. “Dean, I’ve been cursed.”

Dean was about to take another step forward but thought better of it. “Excuse me?” he growled again, and not even Castiel could deny the lack of usual softness in Dean’s voice.

“I found out a while ago. When I was a baby, I was cursed to die on my eighteenth birthday at the mercy of an angel blade,” Castiel pushed it out as quick as he could, ashamed for not telling him this sooner, ashamed of what this means for him.

Dean didn’t move.

“But angel blades are a myth, a legend-”

“They used to be real, Chuck banned them after the curse was laid,” the prince shook his head, cutting his lover off.

“No-”

“Yeah, Dean. I’m going to- I’m gonna di-” tears started welling up in the prince’s eyes, and he wondered if Dean would still hold him in his arms if he ran to him.

“No, he didn’t ban them,” Dean’s voice spoke loud and clear, and Castiel realised it wasn’t Dean’s voice at all.

“He burned them. Melted the metal into a pile and threw it in the ocean, but I’ve got contacts.” The stranger walked into the light of the sunset as he spoke, a glint in his eye not unlike the shine of the blade by his side.

“And for the record, you’ll die ‘Before the First Day of Your Eighteen Year Begins’” the man quotes, smirking as the prince took a stumbling step backwards

“How do you- who are you?” Castiel asked with a shaky voice. He knew far too much, surely he couldn’t have-

“I’m the one who cursed you, sweetheart,” the man said, slowing his steps until he was stationary. Castiel had been stepping back in perfect time with him, it was pointless by now. But they were both illuminated by the dying pink light.

This was Castiel’s chance. His chance at getting answers, finding out why this happened to him, him of all people. The nobody, the middle child. But his eyes hadn’t drifted from the blade in the man’s firm grasp. Sure, his answers were right there, but at what cost?

“Why,” Castiel said, his voice betraying him by displaying the small, scared boy inside. “Why,” he tried again. “Why me, why not the heir to the throne, someone… important?”

Chuckling, the man raised the blade a bit higher, into his own field of view, and spun it in his hand. Almost a display of his skills with it. If it was meant to scare Castiel, it did.

“You don’t think you’re important? Well, you are to me,” he had a disgusted look on his face. “It was late, and I was on my way home from the pub. Three old ladies pulled me aside and started pulling all this, hoodoo-voodoo shit in front of me, showing my future. Showing me a world where my soon to be born son was a faggot.” the man spat, anger behind his eyes.

“Showing me a world where I was behind bars for doing God’s work and ending the so-called love between my son and another man,”

No.

It couldn’t be.

Could it?

Castiel had never seen the man before, but he knew. He knew who it was. But he wished he didn’t.

“No-” another voice crack.

“Yes. I begged them for a way to fix it, put the world right and spare my son the pain, and they did. They gave me a verbal curse to be spoken once, ending any hope of it happening. Guess it was left a little late, perhaps, so now I’m taking matters into my own hands,” the growl was deeper, with no reason to hide who he is anymore.

“But there is a way to reverse it!” Castiel took another sub-step back. “With a True Love’s kiss!” He pleaded, holding onto the small shred of hope he had left.

Another hearty laugh. “You think, you actually believe that someone is going give you a tender kiss, and reverse dark magic? Please,”

His heart hurt.

“Even so, who's to say that, mystery person isn’t going to be alive for another hundred years, long after everyone you know is dead,”

His heart hurt.

“So let’s stop prolonging the inevitable, and get this over with,” he raised the blade in a battle position, and a gut feeling told Castiel that his attacker would enjoy every second of this.

He ran. He sprinted in the opposite direction. It was his only chance, his last hope at free will that was almost lost from his grasp.

Holding onto the fact that he still never told Dean goodbye, he sprinted off into the night, not even looking back to see his attacker still stationary.

“You can’t run forever, little prince,” he called out, making Castiel’s blood run cold. “You’ll tire eventually, and when you do, your eyes will close forever,”

The deep laugh echoed throughout the woods, and a new figure stepped behind the man, confusion written all over his face.

“Dad?”

Tags:

@tardisheart134 @niteowlangel @asociopathandadoctor @winchester-ofthe-lord @notfunnydean  @leatherandapplepies @cross-roads-blues @astheryart @winchestered-since-1983 @freshly-painted-duck 

Send me a message in my ask box or comments if you want to get tagged or wish to be removed from the tag list. 

[fuforthought]

Someone on this site declared "The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill" the most overrated hip hop album ever. I unfollowed and blocked him. Wasn't the first person j heard say that, but as a native New Jerseyan, maybe I'm biased to one of my own. What're your thoughts on that album, and what do you consider to be the most overrated hip hop album?

Damn, dude. Two great questions.

Okay, here’s my opinion on Miseducation… It has its place in the certified list of hip hop classics. It’s a beautiful album.However, my own interest in the album has definitely waned over the years. It’s not something I bump on the regular. I’m not saying it was a flash in the pan or anything. I know it’s pretty much universally loved. I just feel as though it’s…dare I say played out? Played out for me anyway. In fact, “Doo Wop (That Thing)” and “Ex-Factor” I pretty much hate these days.But yes, it’s a landmark album. It’s soulful and poetic and an amazing debut (can we call it a debut?). It’s just not necessarily an album I fuck with these days.

Most overrated album? Shit, this is a tough one. But I think I have an answer. In fact, I definitely have an answer…

De La Soul’s 3 Feet High and Rising

This may be hip hop blasphemy, but this album is straight wack to me. I love De La Soul is Dead and Stakes is High but 3 Feet High… just doesn’t do it for me at all.I just don’t feel that early Daisy era shit. Hmm…that might actually be a lie since I love Tribe. I just think 3 Feet High… doesn’t mesh with me. It’s a sound i just don’t love.

And while I’m getting myself in trouble, let me throw two more out there. Anyone who thinks The Marshall Mathers LP is dope is entirely wrong. That album has aged horrendously. It’s fucking HORRIBLE.Eminem’s old penchant for “shocking” lyrics is just cringe worthy. It’s weird because on The Slim Shady LP it actually works. That’s still a very listenable album. But calling The Backsteet Boys “faggots” just sounds silly these days. It has horrible rhymes, some horrible beats and should never be considered a classic.

And finally, to get myself in the most trouble, I’m going to say it… To Pimp a Butterfly is disgustingly overrated.Now, I’m going to drop a disclaimer here. I just might not “get” the album. It might take a few listens for it to sink in (It genuinely took me ten years to appreciate Company Flow’s Funcrusher Plus).But I just don’t feel the album at all. I think it’s overly experimental. It sounds like a bad attempt at an OutKast album. In essence anyway.I like Kendrick. I think he’s a great emcee. When he actually rhymes. Remember “Control”? Why can’t he just rhyme like that? He’s too busy trying to come up with weird flows and gospel-style hooks. In fact, I’d go as far as to say To Pimp… is an ugly album.

[neverending2012]

Blue Darkness

Summary: Dealing with societal and school pressure, Unique has a fight with her parents and she and Ryder share something special.

Rating: Mature

Warning: Sex, mature themes

Ryder rang the doorbell, and Jingle Bells played instead of the regular two-note chime he usually heard. A Christmas wreath decorated with holly sprigs and little gold bells hung on the bright red door with a shiny brass knocker. The air smelled like pine trees and burning wood. He adjusted his backpack and felt anxious standing on the front porch of Unique's big brick house. They had not seen each other in a week since he got in a fight at school because kids found out they were a couple. He still had a faint purple bruise on his cheek from the beat-down in the senior parking lot.

Sparkling frost covered the front lawn, and displayed in the yard was a giant black Santa sitting in a red sleigh with three reindeer attached to it. Santa even wore gold wire-rimmed glasses, and his sable cheeks had two red dots of blush. Unique once told him his mother had the Santa display custom made and was adamant the skin color was just right and not some cartoonish shade that didn't exist in reality. When she was a little girl, Unique nicknamed him Oliver despite her parents wanting her to call him Santa. The memory made Ryder smile as he stood on the porch waiting for her. The neighborhood was quiet except for a dog barking in the distance.

He tapped his foot against the white wooden planks of the porch; flour smudged his black sneakers and jeans. He didn't have time to change. That morning he baked a batch of Unique's favorite cookies: snickerdoodles. He hoped she liked them. After several long minutes, the door opened, and his girlfriend stood before him looking distressed, her eyes visibly red from crying and dressed like a boy in a tailor-made black suit that did little to hide her curves. He could see the fullness of her breasts beneath the jacket. He smelled her Ocean Dream perfume and saw faint traces of red lipstick on her plump lips. Unique gazed at him, tears in her eyes.

"I'm not me."

Ryder knew what she wore underneath. It was probably lacy and silky and delicate. He looked at her hands and saw the remains of red polish flecks on her fingernails.

"My grandparents are coming," she said.

Ryder nodded.

"May I come in?"

"But I'm not –"

He didn't let her finish and leaned down and kissed her lips, breathing in her sweet scent. Startled by the kiss, Unique gasped and relaxed, kissing him back, until she pulled away, catching her breath, unable to speak. He touched her flushed cheek.

"Beautiful," he said.

Unique pulled him inside.

"You can stay until my grandparents get here."

"When will they get here?"

"In an hour."

"Where are your parents?"

"In the kitchen, I was wearing your favorite dress and –" she looked down at the floor, "I'm sorry, they made me change."

"Let's go upstairs," Ryder said taking her by the hand.

When they went inside Unique's fluffy pink room, he closed the door and kissed her again.

"I baked you cookies."

"Ryder I –" Unique began to cry and sat down on her bed, "How can you act like this?"

Ryder was confused.

"Like what?"

"Like I look beautiful."

"You do."

"I'm not wearing your favorite dress."

"So?"

"But – "

Ryder held her round face in his hands, wiping away her tears with his thumbs.

"I see you. I know who you are."

She hugged him.

"We'd better open the door. My parents know you're here."

"Ok."

Unique opened the door and went to her dresser, getting a few tissues from the silver-plated tissue dispenser decorated with pink rhinestones and wiped her face as she looked in the big heart-shaped mirror with a pink feather boa draped across it.

"I wish my grandparents weren't coming today."

"Is that why you had to change?"

"Yes. But it's not like my parents are…" she sighed and stopped speaking for a moment, throwing the wet tissues into her sparkling glitter pink wastebasket, "No use getting into to it. Oliver said there'd be days like this."

Ryder laughed and took her hand, pulling her onto the bed.

"You still talk to Santa?"

Unique narrowed her eyes and Ryder could see the black mascara.

"It's Oliver. Not Santa."

"Ok, Oliver."

She laid her head on his shoulder, and he put his arm around her.

"Yes, I do. I know it's dumb."

"It's not dumb. A little weird perhaps."

"I know I'm crazy."

Ryder caressed her head, gone were her fabulous wigs, and only her short kinky hair remained.

"He seems like a good listener."

"They don't ever want my grandparents to see who I am. No sass. No beauty. Nothing. They only want me to be who I'm not. I ain't Wade."

Ryder kissed her temple. She never said her birth name. It sounded odd to him. He wasn't sure what to say. Unique kept talking.

"I'm tired, Ryder."

Her voice was defeated. Ryder's heart broke. He lifted her chin and kissed her.

"I'm sorry."

She sniffed.

"Why? It's not your fault. I should be apologizing."

"For what?"

"For this," she said, touching his bruised cheek. "They did this to you because of me. Maybe we should – "

Ryder stopped her.

"I'm not breaking up with you."

"I don't want to break up either, but where is our place?"

Ryder hugged her, attempting to calm her down.

"Listen, we'll find our place. I promise."

"How's that gonna happen? To get Mama and Papa off my damn back, I wear boy clothes to school and change into girl clothes in the janitor's closet, and we can't hold hands and I can't use the - " she took a deep breath and sighed; "I'm sorry, Ryder. It's not easy being with me."

"Don't be. I chose you, remember?"

They kissed and Ryder heard the stairs creak as someone walked up to the second floor. Her father, tall and menacing, dressed in a suit similar to Unique's, appeared in her bedroom doorway. He stared at Ryder.

"May I have a word with you?"

"Papa, the door was open."

"I know. I just want to speak to Ryder privately."

"We were only hugging," Unique said, becoming indignant.

Mr. Adams shook his head.

"You're not in trouble I just want to talk to him alone."

Ryder let go of Unique and kissed her cheek.

"It's fine," he said, feeling her father's eyes on him.

They left the room, with Unique sitting on the bed looking bewildered, and Ryder followed Mr. Adams downstairs to the den where they sat in front of the fireplace on a red velvet couch. It began to snow outside. Nat King Cole crooned about chestnuts roasting on an open fire on the stereo. Red cinnamon scented candles burned on the coffee table, filling the air with a spicy fragrance. A bottle of scotch was on the table as well, and Mr. Adams poured himself a glass, taking a sip he sighed and closed his eyes.

"First off, I have nothing against you."

"Thank you," Ryder said, "I have nothing against you either."

"Are you in love with my boy?" Mr. Adams asked him, his arms folded.

"I love Unique, and she's a girl."

Mr. Adams chuckled and shook his head.

"I don't care if my boy is gay. Love is love. But my boy is a boy. Not a girl. And no amount of lipstick, high heels or wigs is going to change that."

"Her heart says differently. And when I hold her, I know she's a girl."

Mr. Adams put his hand on Ryder's shoulder.

"I have something to ask you."

Ryder nodded.

"Ok, what is it?"

"Right now, my son is dressed in a suit. No lipstick or skirt. You were just upstairs holding him as if your life depended on it. Did you see a girl then? All I see is my boy. He can dress up and sing or whatever, but why does he insist on being a female? When he gets off the stage, just take off the dress, it's that simple. Lots of gay men dress up, and they're still men. Why does Wade do that? Look at RuPaul; he's a man. I got no problem with him. I don't hear him say he's a woman."

"Sir, I only see Unique."

"I like you, Ryder. You got issues, but who doesn't? And I believe that you love my son. I see how you look at him, and it's a beautiful thing in my book. But I don't think you should encourage him like this."

"Encourage him?"

"Yes, going along with this whole born in the wrong body thing. It's crazy."

"It would be crazy if I insisted that she deny who she is. And one of the reasons that I love her is that she isn't afraid to show the world her true self."

"The world sees a crazy black boy in a dress."

"No sir, the world sees what it wants to see."

Mr. Adams sighed.

"You don't understand; you're just a kid."

"I understand more than you think."

"We've let him dress up at home. Wear make-up. Turn his room into a Pepto Bismal nightmare, but Wade isn't a girl. I haven't been happy with how he's turned out, and neither has his mother. I've got gay friends and - "

"This isn't about gay."

"Well, whatever it is. You're not helping."

"Honestly, sir, I'm the only one who is."

"Because you love him? Let me tell you something; love doesn't mean shit to the world out there. You're asking to get killed."

"I've already been beaten. And it will happen again."

"What?"

"I've been beaten, called faggot, you name it. But that won't stop me from loving Unique."

"You're a damn fool is what you are."

"Is this why you wanted to talk to me?"

"No, I think you should stop seeing my son."

"But you just said it was a beautiful thing that I loved her."

"It is. But you're making it worse. Wade's got it in his head that he's normal and he isn't. I get that you love him. I do. But this must stop."

"Breaking up with her won't change who she is, she'll always be Unique. Don't you understand? It's not about me at all."

"Yes, it is about you. You're giving Wade hope, and that's the last thing he needs. You act like he's normal."

"She is normal!"

"Like hell he is. He's got a boyfriend believing he's a girl. It's too much."

The doorbell rang. Mr. Adams took another drink of his scotch and went to answer it. An elderly couple dressed in black wool overcoats and white knit scarves, came inside the house, snowflakes falling on the polished hardwood floor.

"Mom, Dad, you're early," Mr. Adams said as he helped them out of their coats.

"We're on time," the older gentleman said, and looked in the den,

"Hello," he said to Ryder, "I'm Richard Adams."

"Hi, nice to meet you, I'm Ryder, Unique's boy- "

"It's Wade's friend from school," Mr. Adams interjected, shooting an angry glare at Ryder.

"Did you say Unique?" the woman asked, patting down her silver curls.

"Why don't you two go into the kitchen? Mabel will make you some coffee."

"Where's Wade?" she said.

"Upstairs."

She smiled at Ryder.

"Are you going with us to church?"

"No ma'am, I just dropped by to say hello."

"It's nice meeting a friend of Wade's. You can call me Flora."

"Thank you."

Unique's grandparents came into the den, making themselves comfortable on the couch. Ryder sat down in a nearby armchair, not wanting to leave without saying good-bye to Unique. Her grandparents wore church outfits; she in a green silk dress and him in a pinstripe suit; and they smelled like peppermint. Flora kept patting her curls; her lips coated in magenta lipstick.

"Franklin, go get us some coffee," Richard said to his son.

"Sure, Dad."

After he left, Ryder looked at his feet, not sure of what to say or do. He thought of Unique crying on her bed, confined in a suit that didn't fit who she was and he only wanted to leave and go back upstairs and hold her again, wipe away her tears.

"Something wrong, dear?" Flora said.

"Oh, I'm fine."

"How long have you known Wade?" Richard asked, leaning back on the couch.

Before Ryder could answer, he heard the distinct creak of the stairs, and then Unique stood in the den's doorway. Her eyes no longer red, and her face scrubbed clean. She looked defeated and soulless, and Ryder wasn't sure how much more he could take.

"Wade, honey, come here and give your Grandma a hug. My you look handsome in your suit," Flora said, opening her arms.

Unique went to her grandparents, a false smile on her lips, embracing them and when she pulled away, she said:

"Good to see you Grandma, Grandpa."

"Wade, we've missed you," Richard said, holding her hand, "Your parents say you made the honor roll again."

"Yes, straight A's."

Ryder stood up and went to Unique; he held her hand; she gasped at the affection, and for a second he thought she would take her hand away, but she didn't. They stared at each other, and quiet courage filled them, and they knew what needed to happen. Unique squeezed his hand and looked at her grandparents, who gawked at them with perplexed expressions on their faces.

"Ryder is my boyfriend. I love him. He loves me."

Flora covered her hand over her mouth, and her eyes widened, then she laughed.

"Is that all? We don't care if you're gay, Wade. And Ryder seems personable."

Unique shook her head.

"Grandma, there's more."

"What is it?"

"I'm transgender. My name is Unique. I'm a girl. I hate it when anyone calls me Wade. I know who I am and it isn't Wade."

"Transgender?" Richard whispered as if trying to understand what that meant.

"Yes, transgender."

"Do your parents know?"

"They do, but they didn't want you to know. I like dresses and makeup and lace. I enjoy everything the typical teenage girl likes."

"So this isn't like dressing up and performing?" Flora asked, looking up at her, "You're a transgender girl."

"Yes, Grandma, that's who I am."

Unique began to cry, and Ryder held her tight, whispering in her ear:

"I'm so proud of you."

Her grandfather stood up and got a crystal tumbler from the bar table in the corner of the den, he opened up the scotch and poured himself half a glass full and drank it down in one gulp.

"Lordy Jesus, I don't know what to say," he said and poured another drink.

Flora rose from the couch with open arms.

"Honey, come here."

Unique let go of Ryder and fell into her warm embrace. They hugged for a long time, with Flora, stroking her back.

"My child, whoever you say you are, that is who we will honor. We love you. Yes, I'm shocked, but you're still my sweet little grandchild. That will never change."

Unique cried even harder, clinging to Flora. Ryder cried too, relieved that no secrets remained. Richard took it all in as he drank his second scotch. When he finished, he hugged Unique.

"I must wrap my head around it, but your grandma is right. We're with you."

Unique's parents came into the den, carrying trays of cookies and cups of coffee and hot cocoa.

"What's going on?" Her mother said as she and Unique's father placed the trays on the coffee table.

"Mama, I told them I was transgender."

Her parents looked at each other. Mr. Adams spoke first:

"Listen we're trying to sort this out and – "

"No, you listen, why did you hide this from us? What's there to sort out?" Flora said.

"We're trying to get Wade help and – "

"Stop calling me that!" Unique said, glaring at them.

"Calm down," Mabel said.

"No Mama, I won't calm down. You and Papa can't accept me but Grandma and Grandpa can. They said they would honor who I was, why can't you do the same?"

"You need help," Mrs. Adams said, "We've indulged you long enough and – "

"No more," Unique said and shook her head, tears flowing down her cheeks. "Just stop it. Grandma and Grandpa just gave me the love and acceptance I needed. It's pathetic that my parents can't love me too. Making up stupid rules that hurt me. I can only wear dresses in the house or when I perform, and we'll still call you Wade regardless of my wishes, and Ryder isn't your boyfriend, he's just your friend. Everything that goes against who I am, you enforce with your fucked up rules."

"It's to protect you," Mr. Adams said.

"Protect me? From what?"

"You live your life like this and society will give you hell."

"Well, I got news for you, I'm already in hell. What kind of life can I have if I can't be me?"

Her parents remained silent. Ryder held Unique's hand, squeezing it. She gazed up at him, touching his cheek, and giving him a tender kiss.

"Come on, let's go."

He nodded and as they walked out of the den, hand in hand, her mother said:

"Where are you going?"

"Out"

"When will you be back?"

Unique never turned around as she got her coat from the closet.

"When I get back."

Her parents came into the hallway.

"Your grandparents are here, and we have a church service to go to," Mrs. Adams said.

Unique zipped up her red coat.

"I don't care. You can't honor me. So why should I honor you?"

"This isn't about honor," Mr. Adams said, "It's about disobedience."

Unique had her hand on the doorknob.

"No, it's about control. It's about you wanting something that isn't there. It's about love and the conditions you put on it."

She opened the door with Ryder beside her.

Her parents didn't stop her, but Flora grabbed her arm, whispered something in her ear and hugged her. Unique nodded, and Flora kissed her cheek, leaving behind a smudge of magenta lipstick; then she and Ryder exited the house.

OOO

They sat in the car a long time, and Ryder held her as she cried, saying nothing except that he loved her, and when the tears ran out, there was silence, kisses, and hugs until she was ready to leave. They drove around Lima admiring the small-town Christmas decorations while eating the snickerdoodles he baked for her, and this elevated Unique's mood. Then when evening came, they went to Arby's and got roast beef sandwiches; sitting in an orange booth, they ate their supper while gazing at the twinkling white lights on the storefronts across the street. Neither one of them said much, a few curious onlookers observed them, trying to figure out the dynamic. He and Unique sat across from each other in the booth, both refraining from touching one another, but anyone could see by how they looked at each other; that something more than friendship was between them.

After supper they took a walk through the Festival of Lights in Lima Community Park, admiring the Christmas lights as carolers dressed in gold robes sang in the pavilion, their voices drifting through the park, filling everyone with holiday cheer. As much as Ryder wanted to be careful about PDA and avoid confrontations with ignorant bullies, he couldn't help himself and held Unique's hand, and thankfully, either by God or Providence, nobody bothered them. And he felt happy to see her smile as she gazed up at one of the fir trees decorated with bright blue lights and brilliant silver glitter stars, and without looking to see if anyone was watching and devoid of any fear or trepidation, he kissed her, holding her pretty face in his hands. It startled her.

"My goodness, Ryder, that was…"

"I know," he said, still staring into her eyes. She hugged him and he loved the scent of her sweet perfume and her warm body pressed against his. Then something shifted.

"Let's go to my house," he said.

"Are your parents home?"

He put his arm around her.

"No, they went to visit my cousin. Do you want to go home?"

Unique shook her head.

"Not yet. I want to be with you."

Hearing her say that made Ryder feel ten feet tall. They walked to the car, and he drove them to his house, on their way there, Unique sang along to Silent Night playing on the radio, and her voice got that secret place in him where he was most vulnerable, and no walls survived; only light shined through. She wasn't performing or showboating or trying to hit a note, she only felt the music, expressing her joy and sadness all at once. They pulled up to the house. Unique unbuckled her seatbelt and waited for him to exit the car so he could open her door for her. Arms linked they walked up the front steps and entered the house. Ryder turned on the lights. His parents didn't do much decorating except for the Christmas tree in the living room with its crystal and silver filigree ornaments and Victorian porcelain balls with scenes of the Twelve Days of Christmas painted on each one in soft pastel colors. He helped her take off her coat.

"Do you want to hang out in my room or stay here?"

Unique was quiet, gazing about the room, her face uncertain, but then she touched his hand.

"Your room," she said, her voice quiet and low.

Ryder felt a flutter in his belly as he took her hand.

"Ok."

He was glad he had cleaned his room; though it wasn't as posh and fabulous as Unique's sparkly abode, it was a reflection of him in many shades of blue. He had a double bed covered with a royal blue comforter, and a framed sepia-toned antique world map hung on the wall behind his big glass desk; that shined like a store display case; a poster of the Pacific ocean at sunset was on the wall above his bed. Unique sat on the bed, bouncing on it a little, then removed her suit jacket, and he could see the outline of her bra underneath. She kicked off her black leather loafers, revealing pink lace socks on her small, babyish feet. Ryder took off his sneakers and sat down beside her. He felt like a gangly ogre with his big, long feet in white gym socks.

"What do you want to do?" He said.

Unique shrugged, leaning against him.

"I don't know," she said looking around the room, then she pointed to his aquarium that sat on a wooden table painted byzantine blue. The tropical fish swam about in the artificial sea he created with colorful coral pebbles, shells, fake bright orange anemones, and a wall of plastic reddish green and neon purple plants that sort of floated in the underwater paradise. The filter pump made a pleasant bubbling sound as it vibrated into the water. He filled his tank with neon tetras with their glowing, electric blue stripes, and deep red rainbow fish.

"Let's feed the fish," she said.

"Ok."

Ryder got the fish food from his closet, and she sprinkled it on the tank's surface, watching their tiny mouths devour the dried green flakes.

"They're pretty," she said, staring down at them. Ryder stood behind her, his arms encircled her plush waist, hugging her.

"You should put some mermaids in here," she said, continuing to watch the greedy fish.

"Why?"

"It would be nice, that's all. I'll find you a black one, with an Afro."

Ryder chuckled, kissing her neck.

"A black mermaid. I can dig that."

"Of course you can."

"Let's watch TV," he said pointing to his flat screen TV sitting on his dresser.

"Ok."

He turned on the TV, and they cuddled on the bed and watched the news; he lay behind her, spooning her. He turned off the light and turned on his blue light lamp. During a commercial break, she looked over her shoulder, and he leaned down and kissed her, and it was different from the other kisses, he wanted more, but pulled away, for fear he was coming on like a sex-starved convict released from prison. She caught her breath, stroking his face, the penetrating blue light shined in her big brown eyes. Then she sat up and untied her black tie throwing it on the floor, and unbuttoned her shirt, revealing a pretty pastel pink lace bra, her young, budding breasts filled out each small cup.

Ryder wasn't sure what to do next and he felt nervous.

"What do you…"

Unique stared at him, waiting. And he reached out and squeezed her breast; it was full, soft and supple. His hands roamed over the lace, pinching her nipples. Then he took off his sweater, hoping she liked what she saw; he wasn't a buff bodybuilder, but he wasn't a puny weakling either. He was thankful he could hide in the blue light, glowing like some otherworldly creature. Her hands grazed over his somewhat defined chest; she smiled as she touched him. He stayed still, letting her explore, breathing hard, maintaining his composure, but wanting so much more.

"You have a birthmark," she said, tracing the large port wine stain in the center his chest like a bullseye.

"Yeah."

"I like it."

She removed her shirt and bra, her belly was pudgy, and he thought it was adorable, all roly-poly and sweet, he squeezed the pliant flesh, before fondling her small breasts once more; they were like tangerines, molding perfectly into his large hands, and capped with hard nipples. They kissed and touched each other, and gently, he pushed her onto her back, lying on top of her, kissing her, moving downwards and his tongue glided across her dusky nipples and suckled. Unique closed her eyes, arching her back, spreading her legs, responding to everything he did to her. He felt her arousal through her suit pants and rutted against her. She moaned, crying out, and Ryder needed to see all of her, he tugged at the zipper of her pants, and her soft hands stopped him, tears glistened in her eyes.

"Ryder, I don't have…"

He understood her fear, as she trembled beneath him. She was so afraid.

"Sweetheart, I don't care," he said kissing her plump cheeks.

"Could you… could you go first?"

Ryder nodded, obliging her request to remove his pants first. He got off the bed, slid off his jeans and stood before her in his Santa Claus boxers.

"That's festive," she said, giggling, relaxing the mood.

Ryder laughed, agreeing with her. She sat up and stroked him through the thin cotton of his boxers; he was hot and hard.

"I want to see you," she said.

He took off his boxers and stood naked before her, he felt embarrassed and aroused all at once. She held his member in her hand, squeezing and stroking.

"You're strong, lean and perfect."

Ryder blushed, feeling pride in the words 'strong' and 'perfect'; this is what he needed to hear. Her stroking felt good, but it was too much.

"Baby, I can't –"

"Sorry, did I do this wrong?"

"No, I won't last much longer."

She removed her hand, lying back on the bed, he watched her chest rise and fall, her stomach hung over her pants; he massaged the extra girth, feeling the warm, fatty flesh in his hands.

"You ok?"

Unique was quiet. She looked up at the ceiling then back at him again.

"I want you to see me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

She laid her hands on her sides.

Ryder unzipped her suit pants, sliding them down her curvaceous legs. Unique wore matching pink lace panties, and a wet stain was on the front of her underwear; she blushed, closing her eyes. He stroked her breasts and belly.

"It's ok, baby, look at me."

She opened her eyes, and he touched her, palming the front of her panties, feeling her.

"I love every part of you," he said, leaning down, kissing her, she accepted his kiss, and their tongues swirled in each other's mouths, tasting one another, after a few moments, he pulled back a bit, cupping her face.

"Do you want to keep them on?"

She was silent, then she said, in a whisper.

"Off."

He slid off her panties and then she was nude, and he had to catch his breath, all of her curves and dark sienna skin, soft and smooth, were so beautiful to him, why did she ever think she had to hide? Her anatomy didn't matter to him, and her beauty radiated from every limb. He could see her arousal, small, hard and alluring. Not one strand of hair was on her feminine, full-figured body; she reminded him of a black marble statue.

"Beautiful girl," he said, staring at her and then he was on top of her kissing her once more, rubbing against her, and her hands glided up and down his back and squeezed his pale, firm ass cheeks.

"Tell me what you want," he said, kissing her neck, tasting her silky skin, "Is this enough?"

Unique opened her legs wider.

"I want you inside me."

He nodded, kissed her again, got up, and went to his dresser; he opened up the top drawer and retrieved condoms and lube. Ryder bought the items on a whim, not knowing when they would use them but figuring it would happen eventually.

"Back or belly?" he asked.

At first, she was confused, but then she understood:

"On my back. I want to see you."

He kissed her.

"I want to see you too."

Unique bent her knees and spread her legs as far as they would go, and he saw her puckered pink opening, clenching and eager. He rubbed lube on his fingers and gently pressed them inside her, she resisted at first and cried out in pain. Ryder pulled his fingers out.

"Sweetheart, we can stop."

"No, I want you."

He tried again and this time was less resistance, after moving them in and out, she began to relax and followed the rhythm of his fingers, loosening her opening. He hit her sweet spot, and she almost came, rising her broad hips off the bed, her pert breasts bounced, and fat tummy shook. Ryder was so hard that he couldn't wait to be inside her. He withdrew his fingers, knelt between her legs and slowly guided himself into her; she was so snug, tight and hot.

"Relax, baby, look at me."

Unique stared at him, her gaze trusting and loving, and he kissed her as he pushed himself into her warmth. This was beyond blissful. And he began to thrust in and out, with her moaning beneath him, grabbing hold of the pale blue sheets, as he pounded into her. Their eyes never left each other, and Ryder dragged out each thrust, to make everything last longer, but the closer she was to coming, the more urgent he became; and then with a loud cry and moan, his girl came beneath him, her essence exploding in streams, and he filled her, coming as well. Ryder lay on top of her, tears spilled from his eyes, and onto her shoulders and he knew she was crying too. They held each other in silence, the dreamy blue light illuminating their naked bodies; the room smelled of musk, sweat, and a hint of her perfume. He kissed her.

"Are you hurting?"

"A little, but not much."

"You're beautiful, Unique. You're all soft, round and sexy."

She kissed his nose.

"What did I do to deserve you?"

"I could say the same."

They lay there in each other's arms until Ryder roused them out of bed for a quick shower. Afterwards, he found an extra large white T-shirt for Unique to put on and he dressed in his PJs. Unique insisted they change the sheets; and Ryder a got a fresh set of cobalt blue sheets from the hall linen closet, smelling like mountain spring detergent. As they stripped the bed, Unique said to him:

"When will your parents be back?"

"Tomorrow morning."

She yawned.

"I'm staying the night."

"I know. What about your parents?"

"What about them?"

Ryder said nothing while they made up the bed; he admired the jiggling of her hefty behind as she tucked in the corners of the sheet, precise and exact.

He decided not to fight with her about calling her parents, not after their mind-blowing lovemaking. They climbed into bed and got under the covers.

"Look, baby, it's snowing," she said, pointing to the window.

He put his arm around her big hips.

"Pretty, isn't it?"

"Yeah."

Ryder reached under her shirt, caressed her bare chubby stomach, and squeezed her cute little breasts.

"You like all this jelly, don't you?" Unique said, enjoying his loving touches, as he kneaded her stomach and stroked her thighs and behind; she moaned.

"Yeah, I do. Got a problem with that?" He said, turning her head to face him and giving her a kiss.

She shook her head, grinning up at him, before turning back around.

"No, baby, just keep doing what you're doing."

He kissed the back of her neck, rubbed his cheek against her kinky hair.

"All mine."

"All yours… I love you, Ryder."

"I love you too."

It was quiet. The only sound was the aquarium's filter pump bubbling in the tank; and the wind blowing outside, a soft-pitched wail. They watched it snow; the crystal flakes sparkled in the yellow light of the street lamps.

[greenteafiend]

Please Don’t Punch Me

Summary:

Keith is not Nyma’s boyfriend, but Lance thinks he is. Lance also thinks that Keith wants to punch him in the face for flirting with her, and maybe making out with her, but in his defense, she didn’t tell him she had a boyfriend with a jealous streak a mile wide!

So naturally, Lance buys Keith a ‘please don’t punch me in the face’ beer.  

Keith just thinks he’s flirting.

Read what I wrote under the cut :)

‘You can’t punch a guy if he buys you a beer, its science, I’m telling you,’ Lance has to raise his voice slightly to be heard above the background buzz of people talking in the bar. Its busy.

‘I dunno man, I’ve heard stories about Nyma’s boyfriend. I reeeeally think it’d be best if you just avoided him. Some other shmuck will make the mistake of hitting on her, and he’ll forget all about you,’ replies Hunk, ever the voice of reason.

‘Two beers please!’ says Lance to the bartender.

‘Is one of those for me?’

‘Three beers please!’ amends Lance quickly.

‘-But It’s your funeral I guess.’

‘Aw, c’mon, you’ll have my back right? If he tries to fight me?’

‘You know how I feel about violence,’ says Hunk. Lance rolls his eyes.

‘Yeah, and I know how intimidating you can look when you put your mind to it. You don’t have to fight him for me, just, you know, scare him off if it looks like I’ll be murdered.’  

Suddenly Hunk’s cheeks turn pink as he catches sight of something over Lance’s shoulder. Lance turns his head to see what’s caught Hunk’s attention, before snorting in amusement.

“Oh look, there’s Shay,” he says slyly.

“La-nce,” wines Hunk pathetically, “Look at her, she’s so beautiful. And she’s so kind and nice and smart.”

“Why don’t you go buy her a drink and then tell her everything you just told me?” suggests Lance helpfully.  

Hunk twiddles his thumbs.

“I dunno man…”

He loves Hunk like a brother, he really does, but Hunk needs to grow some balls. Lance decides to take pity on him. He turns around to face Shay and draws in a deep breath--

“Hey Shay!” he hollers, waving wildly.

“Lance! What are you doing?” whispers Hunk furiously.

“I’m helping you. You’ll thank me later.”

Lance feels Hunk’s whole body jolt as Shay spots them and beams sunnily. She weaves through the crowd to reach them.

“Hi guys!” she chirps.

“Evenin’ Shay,” says Lance smoothly.

“Hi,” gasps Hunk, sounding like he’s about to die.

“What’re you having Shay? Hunk here is going to buy you a drink,” says Lance jovially, slapping Hunk on the back.

He doesn’t miss the shyly pleased look that crosses Shay’s face as she gazes at Hunk.

These two were so stupidly gone for each other that their mutual pining was making Lance ill.  

“Um, are you sure-”

“YES!” Hunk cleared his throat, “I mean, yes. What would you like?”

Across the bar Lance spots a man staring at him.

Lance doesn’t actually know what Nyma’s boyfriend’s name is, or what he looks like. All he knows is that he’s here, that wants to punch Lance in the face, and that he rides a motorcycle.

The guy staring at him is wearing a red motorcycle jacket and matching riding boots. That coupled with the way he’s fixated on him; Lance figures that must be the guy.

He takes that as his cue.

“I think I see the person I bought this other beer for over there. I’ll catch up with you guys in a minute.”

Hunk and Shay barely spare him a glance as he slips away, a beer handle clutched tightly in each fist.

The guy looks less scary and aggressive than he expects, and his gaze tracks Lance’s movement. Lance is proud he doesn’t spill any drink as he dodges through the thick crowd.

The guy is conveniently leaning against a wall next to a table so Lance puts down one of the beers so he can extend one of his hands.

‘Hi, I’m Lance, that guy you hate,’ he says, with his most charming smile, the one that flashes his straight white teeth and dimples.

The guy blinks like he can’t believe Lance is front of him talking to him, as if he didn’t just watch Lance’s approach whilst staring like a god-damn bird of prey. Lance thinks maybe he’s surprised that he had the audacity to address him like this?

He takes Lance’s offered hand hesitantly.

‘…I’m Keith,’ he says.

Lance catalogs that he has a nice voice, that his grip is strong, and that he’s wearing finger-less leather gloves.

He’s actually, on the whole, kind of, well --- hot. In a bad boy I-could-beat-you-up-with-my-hands-tied-behind-my-back kind of way. His hair is inky black and hangs into his eyes, which are dark. Lance can’t tell the exact color in the low light of the bar. He looks vaguely Asian, with the exact sharp jawline and lithe-but-muscular body type Lance is weak for in boys. Men.

He’s shorter than Lance, but that’s a given. Everyone is shorter than him, except Hunk. And Shiro. Ok not everyone, but Lance is tall, ok?

Basically, if the guy didn’t have a girlfriend and didn’t want to punch him in the face, Lance probably would have tried to chat him up.

‘So-- why do I hate you?’ asks Keith once Lance lets go of his hand.

Lance realises that Keith has not made the connection, and decides it would be better for himself if it stays that way until he can charm him enough that he doesn’t even want to hit him anymore no matter what he may or may not have done with Nyma.  

‘I dunno man, but I bought you this to make it up to you,’ he says airily, holding out the beer for Keith to take.

Keith crosses his arms over his chest and frowns.

‘How do I know you didn’t put anything in it?’

Lance blinks, then he brings the beer to his lips to take a large gulp. He sees Keith eyes track the bobbing movement of his Adam’s apple as he swallows.

‘Not poisoned, I promise,’ he says with a lazy grin, holding out the beer again.

This time Keith accepts it.

‘So what brings you out tonight?’ Lance asks.

‘Came to see the live band.’

‘Hey, that’s why I’m here! My friend Pidge is playing-’

‘Are you the punk that’s been hitting on my girlfriend?’ a veritable mountain of muscle shoulder barges Lance from his spot in front of Keith, causing Lance to slosh beer all over the floor.

The guy was huge, just as tall as Lance, but much wider. All muscle. His nostrils are flared, meaty fists clenched, teeth bared.

In short, he is terrifying.

‘No,’ replies Keith coolly, not looking the least bit concerned or afraid.

‘Listen here you little shit-’

‘Woah woah woah, heeey, let’s talk about this calmly like gentlemen,’ Lance ran his stupid mouth and forced his stupid limbs between them, a hand on each chest. The guy didn’t budge at all at the pressure Lance exerted.

‘How about we all take a deep breath and-’

‘Get your fucking hand off me you faggot,’ the guy spat, and Lance can’t help but flinch at the sheer level of hostility.

‘What the fuck did you just say?’ says Keith quietly. Dangerously. The outline of his body goes ominously rigid and his hands curl into fists.

The situation is deteriorating out of control and Lance makes one last ditch effort to salvage it. Keith doesn’t deserve to get beat up on Lance’s account.  

‘Look, we don’t want any trouble-’

The guy suddenly shoves him away. Lance stumbles back and slips on the beer he’d spilt. His arms windmill to correct his balance, but ultimately gravity brings him down, hard. On the way to the floor his head smashes against the corner of the table. His head throbs and his vision swims.

‘You’ll regret that,’ Lance dully registers that although Keith didn’t raise his voice, he sounds scary furious.

Things after that were a bit… blurry.

He hears a pained groan, and the sound of a heavy body hitting the floor.

Keith’s pretty face appears right in front of him. He looks concerned.

‘Lance! Are you okay?’

His head hurts.

‘I think… I think this is my fault,’ although his brain is strangely slow and sluggish, he manages to realise that Keith is not Nyma’s boyfriend. A misunderstanding has happened, and he thinks he knows where he went wrong.

Or at least he will, once his head stops pounding enough to think properly.

‘This isn’t your fault,’ says Keith fiercely, helping him stand. He is embarrassingly unsteady, and Keith has to stick by his side to keep him upright.

Lance looks down and see the guy laid out on the floor. Did Keith just...?

‘Did you… did you defend my honor?’ he asks stupidly.

‘He was being an asshole,’ replies Keith churlishly.

‘Lance! What happened!?’ Hunk is there now too.

‘I think Keith laid this guy out ‘cause he called me a nasty name.”

Lance vaguely registers that Hunk and Keith exchange names and shake hands. They are talking to each other, probably about him, but he can’t make sense of it over the pounding in his head.

The next thing he is aware of is sitting in a car. He’s in the back seat with his head in Hunk’s lap and Keith is driving.

‘Where are we going?’ he slurs. Hunk eyes him wearily.

‘The hospital Lance.”

‘Whose car?”

“Shiro’s,” answers Keith.

For some reason he feels tears gathering at the corner of his eyes. He can’t stop thinking about the virulence in that guy’s tone when he’d spat that hateful word…

‘Why’d he call me that?’ Lance whimpers.

‘Why’d who call you what buddy?’ asks Hunk patiently. Lance sniffs.

‘Because he’s a homophobic asshole,’ supplies Keith. Hunk makes a noise of understanding.

‘Why am I so upset though? I’m not… I’m not even gay, but it hurts.’

Lance is aware that he is whining, and probably not making much sense but he can’t control himself.

‘Oh Lance,’ sighs Hunk, patting his head.

‘Hunk! What about Shay!’ Lance exclaims suddenly.

‘Let me worry about Shay.’

‘You gotta… you gotta ask her out man.’

‘Sure thing buddy.’

This is just something I wrote. Where am I going with this? I don’t know. If you have any ideas please let me know lol 

[gayredmage]

Pay Rise - FFVII Fanfic

I had this story idea collecting dust in my folders. Finally got around to finishing it. Took so damn long because it is uh…interesting…and very difficult to write.

Pairings: President Shinra/Genesis, Genesis/Sephiroth Rating: Explicit Word count: 5519 Summary: President Shinra is bored, lonely and horny. And he wants a new second class soldier to deal with it. Little does he know that Commander Rhapsodos will be giving him more soldier than he asked for.

External Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11636493

Some days President Shinra hated his wife. It wasn’t because she was getting old and needed more botox than she did ten years ago, or that her libido was gone now that she had menopause. No…nothing like that. On the inside she was still the beautiful, young, caring woman Shinra married for money, influence and to get the media off his ass. No, he wasn’t pissed off that the hag had to get old and become sexually unresponsive – not that he would want to touch the ancient treasure in such a way. Because damn it! He was President Shinra! He should have models and whores and dozens of ethnic mistresses, more than what money can buy!

Today he hated his wife because she flared up at him. Angry about Tiffany and Ruby and Stefanie and…Alejandro. She said something about wanting a divorce. Something that Shinra did not want because then the hordes of women would come running and shove their illegitimate child under his nose. And the media would start and AVALANCHE would begin their defamation campaign. No…so long as he’s married he can pretend he’s the loving husband who puts his family first and wouldn’t dare to touch a Honey Bee girl.

So for the moment, the president was confined to his office until his wife finally calmed down and got those new breast implants she (he) always wanted. But that wasn’t a problem. See this was all a game to the president and one that he knew damn well how to play. Pressing a button on his desk phone he called straight to his illegitimate son’s office.

“ Yes, Mr President? ”

Shinra cleared his throat, “I heard you just recently got some new recruits. How are they doing?”

“ …ahh…well those who passed the initial tests are still in training. They’re being supervised by Commander Rhapsodos for now.”

“I see, I see…” Shinra really didn’t give a gil toss, “Say…son…” Shinra smiled, “Could you deliver me their class file? I’d…like to check on some things. You know, being president I’d love to familiarise myself with the strong men of the future protecting this company.”

On the other end, Lazard did his best not to facepalm too loudly, “ A 3rd should be there with the file in 5 minutes. ”

“Good.”

“ Anything else I could help you with, sir? ” preferably unrelated to your wayward manhood.  

“No, no. You’re doing well, my son .” he beamed, “You should be expecting quite the pay rise.”

“ Very well. Have a good day, sir.”

While he waited for his menu to arrive, Shinra noticed an obstacle in his way. It’s a bit…bizarre for the head of the company to request meeting a fresh recruit in his penthouse office right off the bat. Not to mention it would be weirder for a recruit having to explain to their superior that they were to be the president’s audience for…a while. No, Shinra has to request permission to see a recruit like some lowly boot licking grunt to keep face, keep things discrete and actually get the damn thing to work.

Groaning, he called his secretary, “Bring me Commander Rhapsodos. I need him here in no less than 20 minutes.”

“ Of course Mr. President. There is a soldier here with a file, would you like me to deliver it to you? ”

Shinra grinned, “That would be delightful, Vivian.”

The minute she left the room after dumping the folder on his desk, the president had his cock out, “Now let’s see which one of you makes me hard…” he said, licking his lips while drooling all over the cadets’ pictures.

After a quick thumb through and some whistling and a good ogling of their stern faced portraits, Shinra picked his few. He needed to keep a selection of course, in case some weren’t available. Also, it was Rhapsodos. The president shivered as he picked up the phone and glared at the direct call number on the top of file. That redhead was one heck of a sour puss. He hated to deal with him – loud, arrogant, always disapproving, always acting like he had a sword shoved up his ass. Good soldier, but damn was he…difficult. And if it weren’t for his bastard son’s infatuation with the faggot, plus blackmail from both the Rhapsodos family AND Lazard, he would have had Sephiroth ‘accidentally’ get him killed in the wastelands. But then Sephiroth himself had a bit of an ‘interest’ in him. What men saw in the flamer, Shinra had no idea! He was a complete big-headed lunatic for all he knew!

Shinra rolled his eyes. The damn bitch sure does love to take his time to answer the phone. How is he even in 1 st Class if he can’t be prompt? Is it because he’s bent over getting fucked by Sephiroth? Wait, was Sephiroth even taught any of that? He had to have a word with Hojo…

“ Commander Rhapsodos speaking, how may I help you? ”

He cleared his throat, “Ah, there’s my favourite commander in all of SOLDIER! It’s good you answered, very good.” Oh damn he really hated the sound of his irritating voice, “I have a file of the new recruits assigned to you. I was hoping we could…discuss the…well-being of them. You know, being the CEO of such a large company leads to great responsibility and I do love keeping informed of our newer members. It helps me feel progress. Like the greater good is right by our doorstep. I’m proud of SOLDIER and proud of all the new men coming in. Now…what good is a father without knowing his sons?”

Holy Minerva, did he really just-? Shinra facepalmed. His. Sons? Now this was going to be wrong on two levels…first abusing his power, now getting in the mood for some serious daddy/son roleplaying. It wasn’t beneath him, but the fact that it slipped out like that. Damn it! Even over the phone Shinra felt like he was being put on the spot by the bitchy 1 st .

“ Right…Okay…When do you need me by ?”

“Now would be great.”

“ I’m in a meeting with the general. I’ll be at your office shortly after, say, half an hour?”

Well Shinra just pictured the most awkward and painful looking orgy between Sephiroth, Lazard and Genesis in the director’s office with some SOLDIER guard filming the action. As an aside, half an hour really was too long to wait, but better getting the stupid commander rather than the general to bring a recruit over.

“That’ll be fine.” The president hung up. He was too damn horny to give a fuck what the redhead thought. Instead he turned to the pictures in front of him. William Kunsel, oh he had a cute face. Mako blue eyes and soft brown hair with freckles over his nose. He was so damn sweet looking. If the stupid ditz didn’t arrive on time he might have to bust a nut before he winds up with a blood clot or a hematoma or ruptured testicle or something! Then it would be a wasted erection.

DAMMIT! What was taking that bitch so long? He thought as he drummed his fingers on the desk, trying to distract himself with work, work that he basically paid other people to do for him while he sat in his office screwing escorts and interns, promising a good-paying job in return before he kicks them out, forgets their name and has them replaced with a new intern. Checking his watch, only 5 minutes went by, so he decided to watch some lacklustre amateur porn involving babysitters and a horny dad.

He had to admit. He did enjoy that daddy roleplaying. Because he was a man of power and men of power like to always be on top of the world – to be kings! Just as it was getting to the good part where the girls feed ‘daddy’ some cream pie, the president’s office doors burst open and a rather annoyed looking commander sat opposite him.

Quickly closing the window the porn was on, the president turned to the monster in front of him and smiled his big, fatherly smile. Genesis gave him snake eyes and crossed his arms.

“You called me, sir.” He deadpanned. He was in the middle of an important meeting with the general and the director about their upcoming stint in Wutai. Angeal was captured by their forces, his life threatened in exchange for peace and money. And while they were discussing very important life or death strategies, this nimrod who doesn’t even know what a battlefield is calls him to his office.

Said nimrod was sweating.

He cleared his throat, “Ahhh, yes Genesis…” damn this whore was venomous, “I was hoping you could bring me this boy.” He hands him the file and Genesis flicks through it, “He looks like a promising young hopeful. Could maybe be our next first class prodigy, what do you say?”

The commander raised a brow, “He’s a child. It would be at least another 3 or so years.”

The president swallowed. So? And? What’s the point Rhapsodos?! “Well yes…but I’d like to meet him.”

“What for? He’s good, but he’s not far from average.”

Shinra’s eye twitched, “I like to meet them. Just in case. You know, it’s good to meet a future first class soldier while they’re young. Gives them that extra boost in confidence to excel and reach their goal of becoming first!”

If Genesis wasn’t talking to his boss right now, he would have rolled his eyes and maybe hit him over the head with the folder. “Right…”

Well this was going nowhere! The president was getting more and more annoyed with the commander’s bitchy attitude and pushed the whole stack of files towards him.

“Here.” He said, “Why don’t you find me a hopeful then, commander? Expect a pay rise for this.”

Ahh the old pay rise trick. Gen-Gen knew all about that scam. Crossing his legs he started to ponder. What was it that the president wanted so badly with his new soldier? He knew he was wasting his time, time he could spend on actual work and saving his friend. He knew they wouldn’t kill Angeal, Angeal was too nice, but still. The work was important. Gingerly he took the stack of folders and flicked through to find a poor victim.

While the redheaded foe was shopping for the president, he turned back to his porn only to have an advertisement play over the muted video. He would have groaned if he didn’t have company, but still he watched it with half-minded attention…at first.

His eyes went wide. An advertisement for a gay BDSM porn site. Oh hell yeah! Clicking the link he was transported into a world, the good world, of submissive ‘sons’ and dominant ‘daddies’ doing all sorts of fun things. Like having them walk around humiliated in latex dresses and thigh high boots. Of CBT and whips, and leather harnesses and bitchy men turned into desperate, moaning submissives in pain begging for pleasure.

Looking up from his porn he watched the redhead and smirked. Hah, handsome and experienced rascal like him could turn that whining brat into a begging submissive sex doll. His cock went harder and he kept thinking about whipping him with his belt and him in stiletto leather boots, crying, his make up all over the place. He shook his head. That was fucked up. Or was it? He could only imagine how lucky Sephiroth must be for being able to turn that hot-headed whore into a sobbing, desperate mess.

Woah, what? Really? This bitch? And for some reason he was hard as diamond over that thought. But that was never going to happen. He hated him, he could do so much better. Like that sweet boy Kunsel. And maybe Cloud from the cadets. Oh man, was his dick oozing to cum or what?

Genesis’ nose twitched. There was something in the air, something aside from middle-aged man sweat.

“Have you chosen one?” Shinra asked, and Genesis turned to him.

He knew it!

The redhead smirked, “Yes. I have.”

YES! The president’s balls felt like they were on fire, he was practically jumping for joy…on the inside, “Oh? And who would that be?”

Genesis’ grin got wider, “You’ll have to wait, sir , and you’d need to have a discussion first, in private.”

The president’s heart sank, “In private?” are you kidding me? “Why?”

“Hmm…well he’s on a mission now, but he will be back tonight. He’s also very shy and very nervous, you’d have to…calm him down. He could pass out from shock, you know, from getting to meet such an esteemed individual as you.”

Even though the president was horny now and wanted to fuck something now, he had to admit…that sounded very, VERY appealing. If this kid was going to be so shy he needed to speak with him in private, oh and to make it better, he could invite him to his own penthouse…you know. To have him calm and at ease and all, for the honour of being told he’s a hopeful for first class, of course.

He smiled, “I like that, Genesis.” This was going to be good, he’d definitely see to Genesis getting a pay rise or promotion or something! He was his new favourite for sure, “Tell him to meet me in my quarters then. The penthouse.”

The commander nodded, “Certainly, sir…he should be there by 9pm.”

He showered, exfoliated, shaved his privates like the young ones liked, spritzed himself with Gucci cologne, got dressed in a black silk thong and put on his leopard skin bath robe. Damn, he was one sexy devil, he thought to himself as he combed over his thinning blonde hair humming a tune.

The doorbell rang and he quickly headed for the door. Palms sweaty as he opened the door, in his mind seeing a cute little play thing. Bam. Red hair, buttoned up trench coat with bitch all over.

The commander smiled, “Good evening, President Shinra.” He shoved his way inside, carrying a black duffel bag.

“What are you doing here?!” he yelled, bounding towards him, “Get out of my house! You were told to bring me a soldier, which you haven’t done!”

Genesis nodded, opening the large double doors that lead straight into the bedroom.

The president was furious and shook with rage, “I’ll call security!”

“Such a lovely room.”

He was the president of Shinra for crying out loud! The most powerful corporation known to man! But this redheaded bitch couldn’t care any less. What with the way he surveyed the room, heels clicking as he paced about before dumping his bag by the bed. Balling up his fists, Shinra was ready to pull out his phone and call the guards. That was until he had a soft, warm mouth against his.

“Really, sir? You asked for the best and here I am.” Genesis whispered in his ear.

President Shinra’s phone clattered to the ground. A hand was rubbing his viagra laden crotch as the most irritating, though admittedly very attractive, soldier tickled his golden moustache with a tongue heavy kiss. His knees almost gave out - a whirlwind of emotions spiralling around him between wanting to send this man off to a firing squad to wanting to fuck him senseless on his silk-sheeted bed. But he purred , he purred into the president’s mouth and so the old man tossed all preconceptions about the whore out the window. He wanted him. Oh yes, this filthy hoe wanted a piece of the most powerful man in the world in him.

Without a second thought, he had his hairy, oily hands on the firm, round globe of Genesis’ leather clad ass. The young man gasped, gazing back at him with flirtatious mako blue eyes. Shinra smirked - the bitch wasn’t half-bad. If he kept this up, hell he was getting paid leave. Like a nymphomaniac the redhead moaned and rubbed their groins together. Shinra shivered.

“Yeah, bitch. That’s right.” he groaned, drooling heavily as he rutted his tiny prick against the soldier’s thigh.

“FUCK!” A souped up super soldier crushing the family jewels was like a sledgehammer through the groin. That bitch kneed him right in the balls and the president was on his knees shouting in pain with tears in his eyes.

Shocked, he looked over his fat hairy stomach at him kissing and petting his hurting balls. What happened next was too fast and volatile for Shinra to even register it. The soldier had the president’s dick in his lush, wet mouth and then those eyes – those goddamned mako eyes flashed and the old man’s fat face was smothered by a pillow. He was stunned, he flailed. Tried to call security, but in a heartbeat he was spread like an X, cuffed and tied to the four posters of his bed.

“MPHF!” he cried, only to have the pillow be replaced by a ball-gag which forced its way into his mouth.

The bitch was fucking strong. One hand holding his head still, making the president, HIS BOSS , afraid to move his head least his neck would snap, while the other hand pried his mouth open and secured the gag.

The redhead dusted off his hands, “Silly old man. Thought you could cry for help when I had barely even begun my work.”

The commander pulled away his coat revealing an all-black form-fitting BDSM extravaganza. Boots laced up and buckled that came to mid-thigh, tight latex shorts, clear vinyl shirt with a shiny black corset around his itty bitty waist, D-ring collar and a body harness. The president gulped – Genesis snapped on a pair of black latex gloves, with a smug grin on his face. Donning a leather officer’s cap he straddled the President.

“Love the look, sir?” he asked, pulling open the old man’s robe to reveal his hideously overweight and hairy figure before ripping off his underwear. Small erection and loose fitting balls dribbling out of the torn fabric.

The president struggled against his bonds, hoping his guards would do their rounds and check on him. The commander tutted at him, before slapping his moustached face sending his combed over tresses aflight.

Genesis struck a match and extracted two red candles from his bag. Shinra could only stare up at him - eyes wide with fear as Genesis straddled him and lit the candles. The bitch sighed, rocking his ass against the small erection beneath him. The president’s hairy gut heaving with every breath as he feared every move the commander was to make.

Those plump red lips pulled into a sadistic grin as those burning red, hot candles tilted. Searing wax dripped onto his golden, furry chest - patches of skin and hair burning and sizzling as they dribbled down his fat torso. Shinra tried to shout in pain, but he could only chew on the ball in his mouth and watch as Genesis chuckled and continued his assault.

“Don’t fight it, Mr President. You’ll only make me want to do more to you.”

He would have whimpered if he could. Caught between fear and crippling sexual satisfaction as the wax dripped onto his hard nipples. Genesis blew, cooling the wax so it hardened before trailing the candles down the big, gluttonous belly. Swirling them about like he was casting a spell to the underworld as he ground his ass into the thin prick standing at attention between his thick cheeks.

CUM SLUT. Genesis smirked at his handiwork on his large canvas as Shinra twitched; his skin, pink like the pig he is, was going to be branded the next day since the ass couldn’t heal like a soldier. The president, despite the agony, was oozing from his cock head, slicking up the covered asshole of the bitch who rode him. Blowing out a candle, Genesis stood the other on the bedside table.

“Tell me, sir. Are you going to behave?” he asked.

The president glared at him. There was no way in hell Shinra was going to give this bitch whatever he wanted. That was, until he saw a hard leather belt wrapped around the redhead’s hand. He stood his ground - like a fool. The whore wouldn’t kill him, and once Shinra was free of these bonds, he was going to-

His eyes rolled into the back of his skull as his cock was enveloped in hot, wet warmth. It was easy for the slut to take that tiny cock into his mouth and swallow him whole. He sucked - drinking down his vile fluids as he palmed his boss’s sweaty balls. Shinra thrust up involuntarily and Genesis grinned thinking it cute that the old bastard thought he could make him choke with his small friend.

He pulled away, “I’ll ask you again, sir. Will you behave?” His strong hands gripped Shinra’s throbbing cock. Tighter and tighter. The head turned purple, those piercing blue eyes stared into his soul. He was afraid again. But so unmistakably aroused as his mind begged for that face to be in his crotch again. Shinra hated him, his blood was boiling - this man knew every way to crawl under someone’s skin and exploit them. And he knew it so well. The president could not wait to wipe that wretched smirk off his ugly face.

Genesis untied his bonds, though made sure those hands remained tied together, and flipped the old man over. Shinra’s face was smothered by a pillow - he struggled, turned his head to watch the sadist behind him. In a beat, the commander deep-throated the end of the lit candle stick. It was a sickening, sinful display - Genesis’ face splashed by drops of red wax, his swift tongue curling around the end of the red candle as if he were pleasuring it. He removed the candlestick and looked so full of himself. Raising his hand, he brought the belt down.

Shinra screamed in the back of his throat as welts dented into his ass cheeks - his fat rippling as Genesis struck him again. He was cackling, unrelenting as he whipped his boss. Shinra tried to cry out against the gag in his mouth - hoping someone would save him from the commander. But his little prick was enjoying it - slicking up his heavy, round stomach with fluid as the redhead flogged him. Tears welled up in his eyes and the old man sobbed into his pillows as the loud sounds of leather slashing him across the bottom resonated in his room. His skin was cut, bleeding.

Genesis threw the belt down, satisfied at the red seeping from his boss’s wounds. The man’s hairy asshole was beckoning - wincing with every blow and that only fueled his desire. Without any care, Genesis forced the end of the lit candle into Shinra’s loose, haemorrhoid laden ass. The president froze - feeling violated, dirty, wrong, only to then find himself yanked up by the few strands of gelled hair he had left. A proud cock stood by his face, released from their entrapment of tight latex.

“If you play nice, Mr President…I’ll make sure that candle doesn’t set fire to your rear.”

Shinra could not wait to see the day Genesis would finally stop being so cocksure and smiley. The day when he orders the Turks hunt him down and torture him. Maybe have a woman force him to pleasure her with that deft tongue of his in her cunt. He couldn’t wait to jack off onto his tear covered face and watch him break.

The gag came off and the commander fucked his cock into the president’s mouth. He gagged instantly, only making the bitch moan louder at the old man’s obvious distress.

“Mmm. Suck my cock, sir.” he demanded, grabbing Shinra’s fat face and slamming it up and down his dick.

Shinra moaned at the rough treatment, wanting to rub his little prick so badly, but too stubborn to give this bitch the satisfaction of seeing him break at the seams. The candle wicked away, hot wax dripping onto his balls, his hairs singing from the hot wax. He backed up, trying to spread his ass cheeks to stop the fire from burning his skin. His golden moustache covered in spit as he chocked on soldier cock.

It was burning now and he was growing desperate. Whimpering around the dick in his mouth, hoping the sadist had a glimmer of humanity. Genesis pulled away and puffed out the candle.

“That wasn’t so bad, now was it?” he asked, flipping the president onto his back, before pulling out the nub of wax and discarding it onto the floor.

Now was his opportunity whilst he caught his breath. But before he could bellow for his guards, he had a perfect mouth to his and the gentlest of kisses.

“Want to meet a good friend of mine?” sparks went off in those mako eyes and Shinra almost had a heart attack.

Ten inches with a six inch circumference - a giant, black cock waved in his face before disappearing down the commander’s throat. He moaned so deliciously, before extracting it. Shinra shook his head.

“N-no.” he whimpered only to then have the fat head of the dildo sink into his ass.

He groaned and grit his teeth as pain and sick pleasure shot up his spine. He was mad at himself now as he ground against the giant cock ramming its way into his ass as Genesis none too gently fucked him. “Take it, sir! Come on and take it like a real man!” he shouted before shoving all ten inches into the old man’s ass.

Genesis pushed him upright, Shinra too dazed to do or say anything as he strapped the cock down. Circling the bed, the commander was so pleased with himself. The old, fat man bound, defeated, sitting on a fat cock. He deserved a treat he thought.

Getting onto all fours, Genesis pulled Shinra’s head into between his cheeks. “Eat me out, sir. I beg of you.”

The president was happy to comply. Burying his round face into his warm, sexy ass, he licked that tight asshole. His cock was crying, as his lips and tongue pleasured the commander’s fuckhole.

“Fuck yourself on that cock.” Genesis commanded. And Shinra complied as his balls begged for release. His useless prick waved around as he fucked himself and tonguefucked the commander.

The commander turned around, feeding Shinra his cock as he reached down and jerked the old man’s dick. In seconds, the president pulled back and jerked about - eyes to the sky as his whole body convulsed hideously. His cock spat a pitiful amount into Genesis’ hands leaving the poor man unimpressed. Shinra bucked into his palm before slumping forward onto the redhead feeling like he was on the cusp of having a heart attack at the tender age of 59.

Grabbing Shinra by the chin, Genesis shoved his soiled hand into his face. “Clean this pitiful mess up, sir. What a shame…and here you were hoping you could fuck me senseless. All you’ve left me with is a soft cock and pity for your mistresses.”

The president was ashamed. Tears fell from his eyes as he licked the cold, slimey cum off the commander’s hand until it was clean.

Genesis laughed, “So pathetic, you are. There is no way in hell you’d be able to make me cum.”

Pushing president Shinra onto his back, Genesis straddled the old man’s chest as he jerked himself off. A slender hand gliding up and down his pretty dick as the other pinched and teased a pierced nipple through his translucent PVC shirt. Without a sound, Genesis came - thick, white streams spraying onto Shinra’s panting face, soiling his golden moustache.

It took seconds for the commander to catch his breath. And when he did, he put himself away - swung his coat back on, packed his items away and left.

The following week, President Shinra was late to the board meeting. He walked with a limp and cold coffee into the meeting room only to lock eyes with the smirking commander standing with arms crossed by Sephiroth’s side. The old man coughed before taking the head of the table. His cock swelled. Red hair flicked out of a smug face as he rose and saluted the President with the rest of the high ranking members of Shinra. They sat, Shinra moving his seat further than necessary to hide his ‘growing’ problem.

Genesis whispered to Sephiroth. Made a motion with his pinky finger and they laughed.

Sephiroth smiled. “If I may, I wish to start…President Shinra.” his deep voice boomed through the meeting room. Everyone else looking ordinary - bored and tired as they were for every other meeting, whilst Shinra felt too warm. Sweat rolled down his forehead, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge of the table tightly - a mixture of fear and desire welling in his chest.

“Y-yes, Sephiroth?”

The general grinned and looked to his commander before commencing, “How goes that request for additional funding for SOLDIER…and of course, our inevitable pay rise? 13% as we agreed or…?” he trailed off, a murderous glint to his eyes that no one else but Shinra saw.

He shook slightly, stammering a little as he tried to find the words. Those goddamned blue eyes were glowing at him again and he couldn’t look away, even when his bastard son frowned at him with mild curiosity. A lovely, pink tongue darted out of those plush red lips and licked them ever so subtly, but with all the sinful, crass intent mustering up images of a night that Shinra could not stop remembering.

“H-how about say…25%? Yeah? I…I believe you boys earned it.”

The redhead’s face softened ironically, “Oh President Shinra…how generous of you for recognising our efforts.”

Lazard nodded, “Yes. I am sure the soldiers would be delighted to hear this. And what of the funding? We are in need of training equipment, a new VR room, renovations to the entire SOLDIER floors…and a handsome relief fund.”

Scarlet scoffed, “Pah! Dream on, sweetie! That money’s for me…isn’t that right, honey?” she turned to the president, pulling her arms together so her tits spilled over her low neckline.

But Shinra had his eyes on the commander toying him, his hand gliding up and down his general’s back before not so subtly whispering to him as if the pair were lovers. The president was green - if money was what this bitch wanted, so be it.

“Write me an invoice, Deusericus and I’ll fill it. What do you need, 5 billion gil?”

Lazard readjusted his glasses, unfazed by the high offer as the rest of the directors gawked. Hojo spilt his coffee down his front and Heidegger was pulling out his beard. “That would be a good start.” he said, writing out an invoice and having a soldier present it.

The president signed it. Immediately, the funds were digitally moved once it was scanned into the system. The rest of the meeting moved along rapidly as Shinra’s hands were tied having dropped a quarter’s worth of profit into SOLDIER because his dick told him to.

Reeve had watched the meeting with scrutiny and post-meeting he hurried after the soldiers.

“Commander Rhapsodos!” he called, catching the man midway from sipping his tea in the SOLDIER break room.

“Tuesti, lovely seeing you.” he smiled, “Have a macaron. I made them this morning.“

“Oh thank you.” he said, taking two brightly coloured desserts.

“Have you met my newest soldier, Kunsel? He’s my ‘eyes in the sky’.”

A young man saluted Reeve, “Pleasure meeting you, sir!”

Reeve nodded in reply, face full of ganache and crunchy biscuit. “Genesis, I had been meaning to ask about that funding in the board meeting. You see, my department is in desperate need of development and I was wondering if you had any advice on broaching the topic with the president.”

Genesis laughed, “And you’re asking me?”

“You do have a silver tongue.”

“Reeve, I like you and I believe you have a noble task in your hands. But I’m not sure you really know what you’re asking.”

Reeve sighed, “I’ll wine and dine you if it comes to it. Just let me know how you did it. You can deflect as much as you like, but I have a strong suspicion you were behind this.”

The commander smirked. “Seeing as you’re so persistent…just let me have a word with the general first.”

Shinra never knew that the cameras in his home were hacked. Or that the moment Genesis got home he was bent over the dining table and fucked by a real man whose long, thick cock was dripping in excitement from having watched his ruthless commander order the pig around. Genesis needed to also have a private chat with Kunsel…see if Reeve had any cameras whose feed could be streamed straight to Sephiroth’s computer.