#Nah I wouldn’t do meth just for a bit

[bitchboybyllblackbeard]

Wise words from the King

[more-cardigan-than-woman]

The School Trip: Ch 1- Bus Trip

Summary: Jason and yourself are teachers at a high school. This long weekend you are taking all the science kids in your class to Central City to visit Star Labs and the handsome lit teacher has come along as an extra chaperone.

ScienceTeacher!Reader x EnglishTeacher!Jason Todd.

WC: 1.3k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, Slowish burn, multiple parts. mutual pining, teenagers, swearing, NO CAPES, smutty books.

"Mason, you gotta put that under the bus." Jason says, as Mason attempts to carry his full duffle bag through the door of the bus.

"But it's got all my stuff in it?"

"Yeah, all our stuff is under there. It'll be fine." He sees the boy's arms stiffen around the bag, "And how's cherry going to sit next to you with your bags taking up the room?"

"Good point, sir." 

"Nice work," you smile, nudging Jason in the.arm, "thought we'd have to travel with his smelly socks for a second there."

"Unlucky for you, you gotta sit next to my stinky socks the whole way instead." Jason jokes, enjoying the way your nose crinkles at the thought. It’s a small thing, but fuck its cute. This is going to be a long ass weekend, hopefully he can get to know you a bit better. He’s tried over the last few months since you started at his school, but there was always something pulling him away, whether it be curious kids asking questions or the need to get out and get home as soon as possible, there was always something. But now he’s got 3 nights and nearly 4 whole days to get to know the cute science teacher who always seems so much cleverer than him. One thing he knows for certain, something you always seem open to talk about is your cats, Rex and Cody. He’s seen pictures of the Russian Blue and the Orange kitties on your desk and it was the second thing he ever knew about you. 

Zoning back into reality as you try to usher him further onto the bus, before trying to push past him, "how are the cats going to cope without you for a few days?" he asks, not wanting to get into his interrogation of all your interests too early on.

"They'll be good. I've got a friend staying with them."

"A boyfriend?" Jason's eyes stare at your feet as you hop on the bus in front of him. He wants to look at your ass, it looks so good in those fucking jeans, but this is a work trip and he's so thankful that there's 30 fucking kids between you to keep him distracted. He just wants to get to know you, he tells himself, to make a new friend. He had so few friends in the staff, it wouldn’t be appropriate at all.

"Nah, my bestie. She's really cool." You smile as you take your seat at the front of the bus, the loud noise of thirty mouths going at once clogging your ears, "I think you'd like her."

"If she's anything like you-" he's cut off by a loud f bomb called out from the back of the bus and Jason's curiosity dies as Mr Todd rises in his chest.

"Yo! Young people!" You call before Jason even has a chance to stand up, "Mr Todd here is an old soul, so how bout we keep the F bombs to a hushed whisper, yeah?" A quiet sigh of 'yes miss' spread through the seats. "Maybe give him the illusion that the science program isn't running a meth lab?"

"Don't tell him that miss," Keira calls from the middle.

"He'll want a cut of our profits," Jayda laughs.

"Don't cross her, she'll make us do essay's." Andrew sniggers crouched behind a seat.

When their quiet charter starts up again, you turn to sit back down noticing Jason talking to the driver behind you.

"We're ready to go." Jason taking his seat next to you, his legs bunched up, the small confines of the front seat not enough for his massive legs. You try not to think about sitting next to him, about his wide frame nudging you as you bounce along, the long highway towards Central City. You need a distraction, something else to think about and not how his arms look under that fucking cardigan.

"Awesome, can't wait to spend my weekend with these delinquents."

"You're really good with them, you know."

"It's not hard. They're good kids."

"Some of them," he peers around, catching Theo pulling something from his bag.

"Nah, all my kids are great."

The driver pulls from the curb and you push into your handbag, pulling out a book.

"Can I ask you something?" Jason leans over, whispering in your ear.

""You can."

"Are you really selling meth with the kids?"

"Why? You a narc?"

"No. I just- you just- you said and i-"

"Dude chill," you slap him playfully with your book, "you don't need to be so serious."

"So should I read this instead?" He jokes, taking in the risque cover of the book, over the dark fae and his barely dressed companion, "how does a Misty Door work?"

"Shhh." You hush him, snatching the book back, "they think I enjoy reading science journals, don't blow my cover."

"Your secret's safe with me."

4 hrs and 1 nap later.

"Ok, people. We're at our stops for the night. Dinner will be at 6 and Miss has your room keys. Don't wander too far and try not to light anything on fire."

"Try our best." Keira calls out, giving him a wave as the kids start to grab their things and pile from the bus.

"Watch this." You smile at him, your hand wrapping around his bicep as a reflex to get him to stop. But then he looks down at you and you feel your heart start to race, shit. You shouldn’t have touched him. Now he’s looking at you like he’s got a bug on his arm, “Sorry,” you pull your arm away and he ducks back under the bus, "Todd, you're missing it!" you turn from him, not wanting to miss the display yourself. You heard a thud behind you and turn to see him rubbing at a spot on his head, what the fuck was he doing?

He can feel his face heating up, his heart is racing and all you did was have a hand on him. What is going on with him today? Couldn't be the way you let out little snores when you fell on him as you passed through the forest or the delight at how dirty your books are. Calm, calm down, a friend, yeah. She's just being friendly, he convinced himself, but when you call him he can help but respond. Maybe a bit too quickly, "What? What did I miss?"

"Look." You tilt your head towards the crowd of girls, "look what they're doing." You raise your brows in the direction of the young women, trying to get him to notice.

"What are they doing?"

"Just watch."

The girls each walk into the grassy park area near the hotel, each one pulling out a notebook.

"What's in those bags?" Jason asks, noticing how they're laying them in front of them.

"Magic." you nudge him, gently, trying to keep to yourself after the way he reacted to your touch before. "they're doing-"

"Magic? Really? Are they going to turn us into worms?'

"You still wanna hang out with me if I was a worm?"

"Don't think I got much choice. You're the only other adult I know in this city."

"Not for long. We're about to meet the hotel clerk and grab everyone's room keys."

"Yeah, I'm sure she'd be a hoot to hang out with “ he gestures towards the older looking woman behind the counter, the light pink and blue cardigan wrapped over her shoulders and the long pearl string connected to her glasses.

"You never know. She might be a secret spy."

"Now that would be impressive.

“Wouldn't it? She'd look killer in a catsuit and heels.”

“OK, you ruined it.”

“Nah, I made it better.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“I will, cheers. Now let's go sort this shit out.”

“Lead the way.”

Ch 2: Dinner

Taglist: @littleredwing89 @ilikw @bubbles-incorrect-yb @megumisbabymama @nutmeg030 @gone-batty-fics @lovelyrissa @igotanidea @parkjammys @princessbl0ss0m

[readjthompson]

Happy Halloween, people. Here’s an all-new short story (© me, now), free to read.

Bayou Ma’am

by Jeremy Thompson

“Those bitches!” Claude exclaims. “Those lyin’, stinkin’, blue ballin’ whores! Makin’ us the butts of their jokes! Gettin’ us laughed at by everyone! We oughta find ’em and stomp their fuckin’ skulls in!”

“And how would we even do that?” I respond, focusin’ on my composure, compactin’ the shame and heartbreak I now feel into a teeny, tiny ball that I’ll soon entomb in my mind’s deeper recesses. “They said they’re flyin’ back to New York City tonight, to that precious little SoHo loft they wouldn’t stop braggin’ about. They wouldn’t have done what they did if they thought we might see ’em again.”

Andre says nothin’, unable to take his eyes from the iPhone he manipulates, alternatin’ between the Instagram profiles of two hipster sisters, to better appraise our debasement.

#bayoumen is the hashtag they affixed to photos they’d taken with us just a coupla hours prior, at the one bar this town possesses, which we fellas have yet to leave. They’d flirted and led us on, allowin’ me to buy ’em drink after drink and believe that maybe, just maybe, one or more of us would be blessed with a bit of rich girl pussy for a few minutes…or twenty. They’ve got relatives in the area, they claimed, and had just attended one’s funeral. Some black sheep aunt of theirs. A real nobody.

Finally, Andre breaks his silence. “Look at this, right here. They used some kinda special effect to give me yellow snaggleteeth. I go to the dentist religiously. Look at these veneers.”

Barin’ his teeth, he reveals a mouthful of perfect, blindin’-white dental porcelain.

“Yeah, and they made Claude’s eyes way closer together than they really are and gave ’im a unibrow,” I say. “And they gave me a neckbeard and a fiddle. Look pretty real, don’t they?”

“Look at all the likes they’re gettin’. Thousands already. Everyone’s crackin’ jokes on us, callin’ us inbreds and Victor Crowleys, whatever that means. Look, that bitch Marissa just replied to someone’s comment. ‘Those bayou gumps were so cringe, we’re lucky we didn’t end up in their gumbo,’ she wrote. Fuck this. I’mma give ’er a piece of my mind.” A few minutes later, after much furious typin’, Andre adds, “Well, now she’s blocked me. Probably never woulda told us their real names if they knew that we’re on social media.”

Indeed, outlanders often make offensive assumptions when learnin’ of our bayou lifestyles. Hearin’ of our tarpaper shacks, they assume that we do naught but wallow in our own filth every day and smoke pounds of meth. Earnin’ a livin’ catchin’ shrimps, crabs, and crawfishes doesn’t appeal to ’em. They’d rather work indoors, if they even work at all. Solitude brings ’em no peace whatsoever. They care nothin’ for lullabies sung by frogs and crickets. Ya know, maybe they’re soulless.

I wave the bartender over and pay our tab. Nearly three days’ earnings down the drain. “Let’s get outta here, fellas,” I say. “It’s time for somethin’ stronger. There’s blueberry moonshine I’ve been savin’ at my place. It’ll drown our sorrows in no time.”

“Your place, huh,” says Claude. “We ain’t partied there in a minute.”

* * *

The roar of my airboat’s engine—as I navigate brackish water, ever grippin’ the control lever, passin’ between Spanish moss-bedecked cypresses that loom impassively, fog-rooted—makes conversation a chore. Still, seated before me, Andre and Claude shout back and forth.

“Bayou men aren’t fuckin’ rapists!” hollers Claude. “We’re not cannibals neither! I can whip up a crawfish boil better than anything those stuck-up cunts’ve ever tasted!”

“Damn straight!” responds Andre. “Bayou men are hard-workin’, God-fearin’, free folk! If they should be scared of anyone around these parts, it’s Bayou Ma’am!”

“Bayou Ma’am?!” I shout, as if that moniker is new to my ears. “Who the hell’s that…some kinda hooker?!”

“Hooker, nah!” attests Claude. “She’s a…whaddaya call it…hybrid! Half human, half alligator, mean as Satan his own self!”

“I heard that a gator was attackin’ a woman one night!” adds Andre. “Then a flyin’ saucer swooped down from the sky and grabbed ’em both wit’ its tractor beam! Somehow, the beam melded the gator and his meal together all grotesque-like! The aliens saw what they’d done and wanted none of it, so they abandoned Bayou Ma’am and flew elsewhere!”

“I heard toxic chemicals got spilt somewhere around here and some poor teenager swam right through ’em!” Claude contests. “She was pregnant at the time! A few months later, Bayou Ma’am chewed her way right on outta her!”

“Damn, that’s fucked up!” I shout, well aware of the grim reality lurkin’ behind their tall tales.

* * *

Bayou Ma’am is my cousin, you see. As a matter of fact, she was born just seven months after I was, in a shack half a mile down the river from mine. Her mom, my Aunt Emma, died in childbirth—couldn’t stop bleedin’, I heard. Maybe if they’d visited an obstetrician, things would’ve gone otherwise.

My aunt and uncle were reclusive sorts, and no one but them and my parents had known of her pregnancy. There aren’t many residences this far from town, and none are close together. It’s easy to disappear from the world, to eschew supermarkets and restaurants and consume local wildlife exclusively. Uncle Enoch buried Aunt Emma in a private ceremony and kept their daughter’s existence a secret from everyone but my mom and dad. Even I didn’t meet her until we were both four.

One day, a pair of strangers shuffled into my shack—which, of course, belonged to my parents in those days, up ’til they moved to Juneau, Alaska when I was sixteen, for no good reason I could see.

“This is your Uncle Enoch,” my dad told me, indicatin’ a goateed, scrawny scowler. “And that’s his daughter, your cousin Lea.”

Though itchy and bedraggled, though dressed in one of Uncle Enoch’s old t-shirts that had been refashioned into a crude dress, Lea sure was a cutie. Her eyes were the best shade of sky blue I’ve ever seen and her hair was all golden ringlets. Shyly, she waved to me with the hand she wasn’t usin’ to scratch her neck.

The two of ’em soon became our regular visitors. I never took to my perpetually pinch-faced Uncle Enoch, with his persecution complex and conspiracy theories shapin’ his every voiced syllable. Lea, on the other hand, I couldn’t help but be charmed by. She had such a sunny disposition, such full-hearted character, that I was always carried away by the games her inquisitive, inventive mind conjured. Leavin’ our parents to their serious, sunless discussions, we hurled ourselves into the vibrant outdoors and surrendered to our impish natures.

“I’m a hawk, you’re a squirrel!” declared Lea. Outstretchin’ her arms, she voiced ear-shreddin’ screeches, and chased me around ’til we both collapsed, gigglin’. “Whoever collects the most spider lilies wins!” she next decided. “The loser becomes a spider! A great, big, gooey one! Yuck!”

We skipped stones and spied on animals, learned to dance, cartwheel and swim. We played hide-and-seek often, with whichever one of us was “it” allowed to forfeit the game by whistlin’ a special tune we’d improvised. It was durin’ one such game that Lea made a friend.

“I’m comin’ to get you!” I shouted, after closin’ my eyes and countin’ to fifty. Our environs bein’ so rich in hiding spots, expectin’ a lengthy hunt, I was most disappointed to find my cousin within just a few minutes. There she was, at the river’s edge. Behind her, towerin’ cypress trees seemed to sprout from their inverted, ripplin’ doppelgangers. So, too, did Lea seem unnaturally bound to her watery reflection, until I stepped a bit closer and exclaimed, “Get away from there, quickly! That’s a gator you’re pettin’!”

Indeed, we’d both been warned, many times, to avoid the bayou’s more dangerous critters. Black bears and bobcats were said to roam about these parts, though we’d seen neither hide nor hair of ’em. Snakes flitted about the periphery, never lingerin’ long in our sights. We’d seen plenty of gators swimmin’ and lazin’ about, though. As long as we kept our distance and avoided feedin’ ’em, they’d leave us alone, we’d been told.

“Oh, it’s just a little one!” Lea argued, scoopin’ the creature into her arms and plantin’ a smooch on his head. “A cutie-patootie, friendly boy. I’m gonna call ’im Mr. Kissy Kiss.”

I studied the fella. Nearly a foot in length, he was armored in scales, dark with yellow stripes. Fascinated by his eyes, with their vertical pupils and autumn-shaded irises, I stepped a bit closer. Mr. Kissy Kiss’ mouth opened and closed, displayin’ dozens of pointy teeth, as Lea stroked him.

“Well, I guess he does seem kinda nice,” I admitted. “I wonder where his parents are.”

“Maybe his mommy and daddy went to heaven, and are singin’ with the angels,” said Lea.

“Maybe, maybe, maybe,” I mockingly singsonged.

Suddenly, a strident shout met our ears: my mother callin’ us in for lunch. Carefully, Lea deposited Mr. Kissy Kiss onto the shoreline. He then crawled into the water—never to return, I assumed.

Boy, was I wrong. A few days later, I found Lea again riverside, feedin’ the little gator a dozen snails she’d collected—crunch, crunch, crunch. A week after that, he strutted up to my cousin with a bouquet of purple petunias in his clenched teeth.

“Ooh, are these for me?” Lea cooed, retrievin’ the flowers and tuckin’ one behind her ear. “I love you so much, little dearie,” she added, strokin’ her beloved until his tail began waggin’.

Their visits continued for a coupla months, until mean ol’ Uncle Enoch caught us at the riverside as we attempted to teach Mr. Kissy Kiss to fetch. Oh, how the man pitched a fit then.

“No daughter of mine’ll be gator meat!” he shouted. “Sure, he’s nice enough now, but these bastards grow a foot every year! By the time he’s eleven feet long and weighs half a ton, you’re be nothin’ but a big mound of shit he left behind.” Seizing Lea by the arm, my uncle then dragged her away.

When next we did meet, a few days later, my cousin wasted no time in leadin’ me back to the riverside. “Where are you, Mr. Kissy Kiss?” she wailed, until the little gator swam from the shadows to greet her. Sweepin’ him into her arms, she said. “Let’s run away together, right this minute, so that we’ll never be apart.”

“Oh, that’s not such a great idea,” a buzzin’ voice contested. “Little girls go missin’ all the time and their fates are far from enviable.”

“Who said that?” I demanded, draggin’ my gaze all ’cross the bayou.

“’Tis I, Lord Mosquito,” was the answer that accompanied the alightin’ of the largest bloodsucker I’ve ever seen. Its legs were longer than my arms were back then. Iridescent were its cerulean scales, glimmerin’ in the sun.

“Mosquitos don’t talk,” I protested.

“They do when they were the Muck Witch’s familiar. Now she’s dead and I’m free to fly where I might.”

“I ain’t never hearda no Muck Witch.”

“And she never heard of you. That’s the way of southern recluses. Still, such is the great woman’s power that she grants wishes even now, from the other side of death. The Muck Witch’ll ensure that you never part with your precious pet, little Lea, just so long as you follow me to her grave and ask her with proper courtesy.”

Well, I’d been warned about witches and the deceitfulness of their favors, so I attempted to drag Lea back to my shack, away from the bizarre insect. But the girl fought me most ferociously, clawin’ flesh from my face, so I ran for my parents and uncle instead.

By the time the four of us returned to the riverside, neither girl nor gator nor mosquito could be sighted. We searched the bayou for hours, shriekin’ Lea’s name, to no avail.

A few weeks later, after we hadn’t seen the fella for a while, my parents dragged me to my uncle’s shack, so that we might suss out his state of mind and offer him a bit of comfort.

“I found her,” Uncle Enoch attested, usherin’ us into his livin’ room, which was now occupied by a large, transparent tank.

Atop its screen lid, facin’ downward, were dome lamps that emanated heat and UVB lightin’ from their specialized bulbs. Silica sand and rocks spanned its bottom, beneath a bathtub’s wortha water. At one end of the tank, boulders protruded from the agua. Upon ’em rested a terrible figure. If not for the recognizable t-shirt she wore, I’d never have surmised her identity.

“Luh…Lea?” I gasped. “What in the world has become of ya?”

Indeed, though Lea had wished to always be with her beloved gator, I doubt that she’d desired for the creature to be merged with her, to be incorporated into Lea’s very physicality. Patches of scales were distributed here and there across her exposed flesh. Her beautiful blue eyes remained, but her nose and mouth had stretched into an alligator’s wide snout, filled with many conical teeth. And let’s not forget her long, brawny tail.

After our initial shock abated and dozens of unanswerable questions were voiced, my parents took me home. Never again did they return to my uncle’s shack, but a dim sense of familial obligation had me comin’ back every coupla weeks, to feed Lea local muskrats and opossums I’d captured, and help my uncle change her tank’s shitty water.

The years went by, and Lea moved into a succession of larger tanks. Eventually, she grew big enough to wear her mother’s old dresses, seemin’ to favor those with floral patterns.

Finally, just a coupla months ago, I arrived at the shack to find Lea’s tank shattered. Torn clothin’ and scattered bloodstains were all that remained of Uncle Enoch, and my cousin was nowhere to be seen.

Not long after that, the Bayou Ma’am sightings began, which vitalized increasingly outlandish rumors and the occasional drunken search party. Luckily, no one has managed to photograph or film Lea yet, as far as I know.

* * *

At any rate, back in the present, I cut the airboat’s engine, leavin’ us driftin’ along our twilight current. It takes a moment for our arrested momentum to register with Claude and Andre, then both are bellowin’, askin’ me what the fuck’s goin’ on.

Rather than voice bullshit answers, I whistle the special tune my cousin and I improvised all those years ago, again and again, to ensure that I’m heard.

Moments later, Lea bursts up from the water, wearin’ a floral dress that had once been red-with-white-lilies, before the bayou muck spoiled it. In the fadin’ light, blurred by her own velocity, she could be mistaken for a primeval relic, a time-lost dinosaur of a species hitherto unknown. But, as her nickname had been so freshly upon their lips, both of my passengers, nearly synchronized, cry out, “Bayou Ma’am!”

Whatever the fellas might’ve said next is swallowed by their shrieks, as Lea tackles Andre out of his passenger seat while simultaneously swattin’ Claude across the face with her tail. The latter’s nose and mouth implode, spillin’ gore down his shirt.

Attemptin’ to gouge out Lea’s eyes as she and he roll across the deck, Andre instead loses both of his hands to her snappin’ teeth. Blood fountains from his new wrist stumps as he falls unconscious.

Claude tries to dive off the side of my airboat, but Lea’s powerful mouth has already seized him by the leg, its grip nigh unbreakable. She begins shakin’ her head—left to right, right to left—until Claude’s entire right calf muscle is torn away and swallowed.

“Ah, God, that hurts!” he shouts. His eyes meet mine and he begs, “Help me! Kill the bitch!”

“Sorry,” I respond, comfortably perched in the driver seat, an audience of one, watchin’ Lea’s teeth tear through the fella’s arm, as his free hand slaps her snout.

After Lea’s mouth closes around Claude’s skull, my friend’s struggles finally cease. Not much is left of him now. All of his thoughts and feelings have surely evanesced.

Groggily, Andre returns to consciousness, only to find himself helpless as Lea tears away his pants and consumes his right leg, then his left. She takes special delight in dinin’ on his genitals, as is evidenced by her waggin’ tail.

Blood loss carries Claude’s soul away, even as Lea moves onto his abdomen.

* * *

I’ll miss Claude and Andre. Friends aren’t easily attained in the bayou and they were the best ones I’ve ever had. All of the memories we made together will be carried only by me now. When I’m gone, it’ll be as if those events never happened.

Perhaps I should say a prayer as I push what little is left of their corpses into the dark river, but all I can think to say is, “Farewell, cousin,” as Lea swims away, glutted. Does she even care that I sacrificed chummy companionship to help keep her existence unknown?

It’s tough as hell to fight a rumor, but I’m sure gonna try. I’ll say that Claude and Andre hitchhiked to Tijuana, cravin’ a bit of prostituta. No need to further enflame the Bayou Ma’am seekers. If many more of ’em disappear, it’s sure to spell trouble for Lea.

Perhaps my cousin’ll be captured one day, for display or dissection. Or maybe I’ll discover the Muck Witch’s grave and attempt to wish Lea back to normal. Is Lord Mosquito still alive? If so, can it be persuaded to help?

Whatever the case, I wasn’t lyin’ about that blueberry moonshine earlier. Lickety-split, I’ll be drinkin’ my way into slumberland, and therein escape familial obligation for a while.

[proudfreakmetarusonikku]

#7. “I’m trying to help! You had a problem, and I fixed it!” would be really interesting to see with c! /p yandere prime boys!

#7. “I’m trying to help! You had a problem, and I fixed it!”

(This takes place in the Fostercare AU btw!)

Tommy doesn’t think he’s ever stepped out of The Room since he woke up here. He’s not sure he remembered what it was like outside of it. He’s not sure how long it had been. Days, weeks, months, maybe even years. There were no windows, no clocks, nothing he could use to tell time.

Maybe he died, when whatever fucking drug Dream slipped into his system, and this was his hell. Nah, definitely not. Hell wouldn’t be that fucking boring. Most of the time Tommy just lay on his too-soft bed with the fluffy blankets that made his skin itch, feeling all dizzy from the bitter food and trying not to think. There wasn’t really much else to do. There were some books on the walls, when he first came here, but he threw them at Dream one day and they were all taken away after Tommy was punished.

(He’s pretty sure his arm's still broken. He doesn’t care anymore.)

He missed his bed back at the old place, with Wilbur and Techno and Philza (those must have been fake names, thinking back). Sure, it was scruffy and haphazardly thrown in the back room Wilbur and his little daughter slept in, but it was soft in a good way and they listened when he didn’t like it.

Dream never listened.

The Room was comfortable in a surface way. Two large beds, one mint green and the other a soft red. An empty shelf. A wooden carved table and two cushioned dining chairs. An en-suite, with a bath so big Tommy could sprawl his whole body out in it. It was a prison.

At least when he lay in bed, he was alone. He hated when Dream was there. He brought the bitter food he always had, and made sure Tommy ate it. Tommy always did his best to eat as little as possible, he was pretty sure that shit was drugged too, but Dream got mad when he didn’t eat enough. He slept in the other bed too, erratically enough that Tommy wasn’t sure figuring out time through it would work.

Dream never shut the fuck up. It gave Tommy a headache. He was used to loud noise- the best home he’d ever been in was a meth lab/crime base, for fucks sake- but Dream wasn’t loud. He just knew how to worm his way into your head and make you want to cry.

Today was no different. Tommy took delicate sips from soup so rich it made him want to be sick, poorly masking whatever Dream had put in it to keep him weak and tired. He tried to zone out whatever Dream was ranting about but like always, it failed.

“-And isn’t it a shame, those dreadful criminals out here again? I looked it up, you know. The trials. You must remember them, right, Tommy?”

Tommy mumbled a “mhm” with soup in his mouth. He was still with the- the SBI, that’s what they called them, when they were caught. Legally, they were put down as child abusers, despite his vocal protests. Sure, he’d helped Wilbur with his drugs, but he was off home school and he hated it when he wasn’t doing anyone. Sure, he’d seen dead bodies a few times, but he was never forced to dismember them or whatever bullshit the prosecutors got through. They never left him and Felicity, though, that was complete shite. If Wilbur wasn’t there, Big Q was watching them, but just because they were criminals and kids too it didn’t count.

So many places left him alone for days on end, locked him in closets, hit him, starved him, made him cry. None of those were ever prosecuted. Only the one family that ever cared for him. Well, this one counted he was pretty sure, but not in a good way.

“Don't worry, Tommy. You’re safe here. They’ll never get their hands on you again.”

Tommy bit his tongue. No need to make things worse.

“You didn’t deserve any of that, Tommy. Don’t let what they convinced you worm your way into your brain. I’ll make sure nothing can hurt you here.”

That was what finally broke Tommy. “You’ll make sure nothing can hurt me? Oh, how the fuck did I break my arm then? Did all the bruises on my wrist spawn out of nowhere? How noble of you, ready to-“

Tommy was cut off by a hard slap to the face. “Really, Tommy?” Dream tutted like a disappointed parent. “I take you in as my own, fly you all the way to Cuba to help hide you from a gang, and this is how you repay me? I’m trying to help! You had a problem, and I fixed it! Or would you rather be in the hands of criminals?”

What Tommy wanted to say was “yes”. Instead, he bit his tongue and shook his head. “No, sorry, Dream,” he said, overly calm. “I’m just… stressed. I know you care for me.”

As Dream hugged Tommy close to him, like Philza once did when Tommy was scared and little and wanted a father he never had and would never had, he smiled. Sure, he was trapped in this fucking hellhole, but knowing where he was infinitely more than he before, and he was going to use that as much as he fucking could.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #317

i’m tired as a motherfucker and don’t feel like thinking up some lyrics, so here, jus have the survey.

Have you volunteered in the past 6 months? No. French fries or onion rings? French fries. I don't like onion rings. Do you suffer from anxiety? Very badly. Favorite healthy snack? "Apples and peanut butter are one of them." <<<< Same, actually. Good shit. Favorite Disney movie? Forever and always The Lion King. If you see a bee in your house.. are you going to kill it? I hate to say it, but I'm killing it. Do you normally take a shower in the morning or at night? Morning. Do you have a cat? Yeah. What is your favorite animal? It will always be meerkats. Always. Do you know what time you were born? 10:30 AM, I believe. Do you like McDonalds? I'm gonna be real: I've never understood the McDonald's hate. I enjoy it perfectly fine. I mean it's certainly not gourmet, but I'll choose it over other fast food places sometimes. It's cheap and decent food, imo. What's your favorite flower? Orchids. Have you thought about joining the military? FUCK no. Who is the person that has impacted your life the most? Given my PTSD, I think it's pretty obviously Jason. Have you ever had a pet fish? Yeah, but not a lot. I never enjoyed them much. Have you ever wanted to be on a game show? Not seriously, no. I wouldn't want to be on television. Have you ever vaped? Nah. Who was the last person to give you a hug? Either my niece or nephew. Have you ever been on TV? I don't think so, no. What's your favorite store in the mall? Hot Topic, ugggghhhhh take me there. Has anyone ever told you that you have an accent? Yeah, especially when I was younger when I definitely did have a clear Southern accent. Do you have any piercings? Yeah, six. I have been DYING for a new one lately... How did your parents meet? Work. What was your first word? "Dada." Do you eat more healthy food or junk food? Somewhere in the middle, I'd say. What do you spend too much money on? When it's my own money, tattoos. I think I'll be perfectly capable of doing it, but when I'm employed, I'm going to have to watch how much I invest into those. What is a disturbing episode of an otherwise non-disturbing show? What is a disturbing show (or one you would describe as one) is enjoyable to you? Meeeh I don't watch enough for this. What is the most memorable song in a movie? How about a show? Oh wow, I dunno. "Circle of Life" from TLK is a beauty, as is "Strangers Like Me" from Tarzan. There really are a lot. As for shows, "Carry On My Wayward Son" from Supernatural will immediately get fans screaming the lyrics, haha. However, I don't know if that song properly counts since it wasn't written just for the show, but whatever. What is something you’re grateful for that humans have made/have continued to make exist? What about something that you wish that humans didn’t destroy? The Internet, whew. I wish humans would stop destroying the fucking environment. It's heartbreaking how many woods are wiped away here for construction, only to never be built on... While evil men are commonly talked about, what woman would you consider the most evil? I don't know, but it would probably be a rapist or pedophile. Those are probably the people I abhor most. Do you believe children can be evil? If so, what child from history do you believe to have been the most evil? I don't really think children are born evil, no. I've never heard of a diabolical baby or anything. I think the environment they are raised in molds them as they age. I don't know about the last question. Name one way that music can be bad for humans. It can be depressing sometimes, actually dragging your mood down, especially if you already feel low. What has been one of the most blatant advertising in a movie, show, or music video? Some of these questions are hard man, idfk lol. What book have you read/listened to that “messed you up” (or made you have a lot of negative feelings afterward)? Johnny Got His Gun left me feeling so spiteful towards and disappointed in the world. It definitely made me feel down for a while. If you have a pet, what is the best thing that you have for them (either a toy, a highly rated food, etc)? If you don’t have one but would like one, have you thought about what you would get your pet? We definitely don't have the money for "high quality" stuff. What works, works. Did you ever know anyone who was (previously) a part of a cult? What cult? Were you ever a part of one? No. What is something that is legal right now that really shouldn’t be? I'm stealing the previous person's answer by saying fireworks. They have a horrible effect on animals and PTSD victims and is just litter and a fire hazard. What is a movie you consider successful/good that did not have high reviews? I'm not educated enough on movie rankings. When you met the person you now like, what happened? We hugged and cried a bit lmao. Did you realize anything today? No. What do you want to do today? It'd be nice to get off my ass and get Emerson's birthday pictures into Lightroom so Ashley can finally have them... Can you honestly say you’d risk your life for someone else? I know with certainty I would for some people. Could you forgive a boyfriend or friend who physically hurt you? Ha, nope, byyyyeee~ What’s the cutest thing someone’s ever done for you? Ugh... So one night when I was lying down to go to bed but also texting Jason, I was being playful and joked for him to sing me to sleep. He sent me a video for "The Mortician's Daughter" by Black Veil Brides (one of his favorite bands) and just pasted the lyrics, and I thought it was the cutest fucking thing ever. I went to bed listening to it and just smiling. It's why I just don't listen to it anymore. I shouldn't have even talked about it, soooo next question. What are the top five places you wish you could go before you die? Ummm South Africa, Yellowstone National Park, Germany, Alaska, and the Bahamas, maybe. How many tattoos would you like to have? I'm gonna be a fuckin mural. I want tats pretty much everywhere. What question do you hate to answer? "What do you like to do for fun?" What's your favourite animated or cartoon program? Fullmetal Alchemist. What do you think the greatest invention has been? Electricity. What's your favourite movie quote? I dunno, I don't really have one. Do you prefer digital or analogue clocks? Analogue clocks are way more elegant and can be beautifully decorated. Who is your favorite foreign singer/musician? Do you translate his or her lyrics? If you exclude English-speaking foreign bands, like from the UK, Rammstein for sure. I can translate some of them. Say something in a foreign language? "Liebe" means "love" in German. What is a weather-type that you like that not many others do? Snow, for sure. I've never understood the "ew, snow" type of people. It's so pretty. Granted, it's rare here, so it's more of a treat down here, but still. Who do you know personally that has a nice singing voice? Sara has a beautiful voice. What was the last word you learned? I have no clue, given how bad my memory is becoming... It's hard for me to learn anything nowadays, because it doesn't stick. What is your favorite culture? (that you find most interesting): I'll be honest, I'm not very well-informed on foreign cultures. Due to taking so many classes though, I do find German culture to be quite appealing. They are very serious about honesty (for example, telling someone you're okay when you're not is frowned upon in small talk, even), as well as manners. I would love to experience their lifestyle. Have you ever watched anime porn? I've never watched porn to begin with. If you got paid $3 million to smoke meth one time would you do it? Nope. I'm not risking addiction or death. Are ladybugs cute? Yesssss. Will you leave the house without fragrance on? Yeah, I usually do. Do you make good money doing what you do? I'm unemployed. I've only ever worked minimum wage jobs. What is your favorite fruit? Strawberries, yum. And kiwi. What do you think of horses? I love them! Are you doing something with your life that matters? Ugh, I don't feel like it. Do you like gravy on your mashed potatoes? I hate gravy. What is the dirtiest rap song you have ever heard? Nicole played "WAP" once when I was in the car and I wanted to die. What about a dirty song in any other genre? "Bitches" by Hollywood Undead MIGHT be rap, but idk? What even is their genre???? But anyway, as much as I love the song, it's dirty as shit. What is a genre of music you simply can't stand? Rap, generally. What is, in your opinion, the best way of dealing with a break up? Lots and lots of self-care and focusing on loving yourself and realizing your worth lies in yourself and not another person. What flavor of Doritos do you like best? Cool Ranch, of course. Would you ever go to a comedy club? Yeah, sure. Why is it that photography is becoming a trend? Because it's art, and people enjoy art???????? What is the funniest movie you have ever seen? White Chicks gets me way harder than it should lmao. Would you ever consider dating someone who lived across the country? I guess, so long it was the plan that we'd eventually move in together, and effort was being made to achieve that once we got pretty serious. Do you have a tattoo? If you do, describe the pain you went through when getting it done. Well, I have six, so I'll just talk about my first one, which was on my wrist. It really isn't bad, especially once you've adjusted to the pain. I think the best metaphor would be that it's like lightly pinching a cat scratch. Outlining is the worst part, imo. What is your favorite bookstore? I don't have one. Who was the last person to tell you that you were cute? I have no idea. When was the last time you had a fever? How high did it go? Oh, I couldn't tell you. Those are very rare for me. How many times do you think that you’ve truly been in love before? With who? Twice, with Jason and Sara. Do you prefer French kissing, or regular kissing more, and why? I mean, this depends on the mood as well as how serious we are. Have you ever been married before? How many times? No. Who do you know that gives the best hugs? Summer has always been a big, strong hugger like I am. Have you ever dated someone of the same gender before? Yeah. Who do you consider to be your hero? My mom. Who is your best friend? Tell us about them. Sara. She's a very caring, strong, creative, just overall amazing person who stands firmly for what she feels is right, and we can't forget about her incredible loyalty, nor her absolute adoration for animals, reptiles especially. How much did your car cost? I don't have my own car. What is the last picture you received on your phone of? Sara sent me a photo of Martha, her ball python. Do you have any friends that actually model? No. Do you keep condoms in your room? No, considering I have no reason to. Do you follow any special diet? (dairy free, vegetarian, gluten free etc.) No, but I desperately want to return to being vegetarian. Vegan would be even better, but I know I'm absolutely not capable of that. What is an appliance you don’t have, but would love to have? uhhhhh Which keys on your keyboard are worn out the most? My "a," "s," and "d" from gaming. If you could be any supervillain, which would you be? Ha, I could probably pull off Harley Quinn pretty easily. Though "super"villain sounds a bit strong for her. What’s the most historic thing that has happened in your lifetime? Either Covid or 9/11, probably. What’s the scariest non-horror movie? I personally think the idea behind Johnny Got His Gun is fucking terrifying. What’s the most amazing true story you’ve heard? More beautiful than "amazing," but whatever. I can't think of anything else. Jason's mother actually left his father to go back home to New York when he cheated on her, but he followed her all the way there, and they wound up reconciling and were very happily married since. They were a spectacular couple, and I miss them a lot. What brand are you most loyal to? I have no idea. It's hard to be loyal to any when you're not the one buying products. Where are you not welcome anymore? Well, speaking of him, probably Jason's house, haha... I feel that if I just showed up there, his parents would honestly be super happy to see me and want to catch up, but Jason, not so much. I doubt Colleen would welcome me into her house, either. What’s the most recent show you’ve binge-watched? Avatar: The Last Airbender w/ Sara. What’s a common experience for many people that you’ve never experienced? Just... adult stuff. Paying bills. Having a stable job. Passing their driver's test. What are some misconceptions about your hobby? We'll use forum roleplay here, in which case I know a very common misconception is that it's sexual in nature and is a kink. It's never been that for me. It's about building unique, complex characters in a vast universe of your creativity, meshing with other's. It's a beautiful thing to me. What’s the dumbest thing someone has argued with you about? Oh, I'm sure something with Mom... because she is absolutely never wrong. What’s the longest rabbit hole you’ve been down? Conspiracy theories on YouTube, aha... What odd smell do you really enjoy? I really enjoy the smell of lilacs, though I know people who think they smell too strong and/or just stink. If you had a HUD that showed three stats about any person you looked at, what three stats would you want it to show? Hm, interesting question. Maybe approachability, moral alignment, and mood. What is your favorite flavor of pop tart? I really like the chocolate sundae ones. Gum? I really like fruit-flavored gums, especially watermelon or strawberry. Last song you sang along to? I sang a bit to "Second Chance" by Shinedown. Are you fascinated by rivers? Yeah, sure. Streams, more specifically, because you can see the bottom and walk more safely in them. I love exploring those. Do you live near a volcano? No, and I plan on keeping it that way, haha. How big is the screen on your digital camera? I dunno, the normal size for a Canon? Do you find train whistles comforting? No. What bird is the cutest? Oh, that's so hard. I love the pastel-colored ones, and hummingbirds are like, universally cute. Are you scared to look at your own organs on x-ray or ultrasound? No, that's actually really cool. Do big eyes freak you out? On people? Generally, no. I tend to find them cute, actually, especially on girls, but I've definitely seen people with big eyes that instead look kinda creepy. Have you ever walked on a frozen lake/river? Hm, I'm actually not sure. I don't believe so, though. Have you ever held a real sword? No. Have you ever seen a tree over 100 years old? Uh, realistically, probably? That's not that old in the grand scheme of trees, is it? Do you feel uncomfortable at fancy restaurants? I can sometimes, yes. I feel very out-of-place.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Off Day: Nine

“She doesn’t want to be your friend, move along.”

15-year-old Rebecca Barnes starts at the voice that makes this 21-year-old college guy turn from charming to angry in a few seconds. In the back of her mind, she’s grateful. She might have been “blessed” with the body of an older woman but really, all she’s trying to do is get a cup of good cider before she goes home to watch Descendants again. She still loves that movie. It makes her happy.

She half turns and sees you, letting out a sigh of relief. She wishes it were Nat. Because Nat is scary and you. You’re really cool. But Scary? Nah. 

“Who the fuck are you? The police?” the kid sneers, “It’s a free country she can talk to whoever she wants.”

“She doesn’t want to talk to you anymore,” you tell him, “Go strike out with someone your own age.”

Rebecca jumps backwards out of the way as the guy rushes at you, covering her mouth with her hands. “Oh god. He’s gonna kill her!” is the first thing that pops into her head. But somehow, the sound of his fist connecting with your face it’s what she hears. There’s a meaty pop and a very masculine bellow of pain and the kid is laying on the ground, writhing in agony and pissing on himself from the pain.

“Becky,” you say quietly, “The cops are gonna be here in a second. Do me a favor?”

“Yeah?” she says trying not to cry.

“Run down to the store. Tell my Aunt Judy I’ll be home late. Then call your brother. I probably won’t need bail but I probably will be late to meet him.”

Rebecca nods, wide-eyed and bolts out the door. You’re calm, standing against the wall as cops show up, hands at your sides. Waiting patiently. You hate cops. You hate dealing with them. It reminds you of some of the worst days of your life. But still, when the officer and the EMTs arrive on the scene you do your best to remain calm.

When a shy Rebecca walks back in and corroborates your story, quietly giving her age as 15, the cop looks at you with something like respect. 

He’s graying now but, you remember him. You’d imagine he remembers you. He’d run into you often enough. A drugs bust here or there. Your mom’s overdose, a week later showing up when Uncle Jack found you laying in a pool of your own blood on the bathroom floor. 

Things that no one can really forget.

Rebecca tucks herself against your side, seeking a familiar adult. Feeling scared but not scared enough to run off and leave you by yourself. She’s looking towards the door. She couldn’t get Bucky but she got Steve and that usually meant Bucky knew about 2 minutes later. When he strolled through the door, she bolted towards him and he hugged her hard, “You okay, squirt?” he asked, looking her over for visible injuries. 

“I’m okay,” she said nodding, still wide-eyed. 

Bucky waited while the police finished up with you, itching to kiss you stupid then ask you what the fuck you were thinking. Then thank you profusely from the bottom of his greasy little heart for looking after his baby sister. 

The cop finishes with you and the EMTs load the kid onto a stretcher to have his arm looked at, unable to figure out what exactly you’d done to it. It looks dislocated but that might not be all the damage. 

Bucky is across the floor and kissing you about two seconds after the Cop’s back is turned. He’s anxious, searching your face and asking “What the fuck?” softly in-between “Thank you.” and “I love you so much.” Rebecca is giggling and Bucky, realizing he has an audience kisses you one more time for good measure before kissing the tip of your nose.

“I thought I was gonna have to call Ma and tell her we were gonna bring you Christmas in jail,” he scolded, “Not like she wouldn’t have done it though.”

You shake your head, “They’re not gonna put me in jail. Not if he came at me first. But, the kid might try and press charges later.”

“That sounds like a problem for future you,” Becky says sipping her reclaimed cup of hot cider.

“I think you’re right,” you say smiling a little.

“How’d you even do that?” she asked.

“Do what?”

“That thing to his arm.”

“Leverage and repressed rage.”

“Oh- what?”

Bucky chuckled and tugged the end of her braid, “I should get you girls home,” he said.

“I’ve got to finish up in the shop,” you say stretching, “But you should definitely get Becky home. Before your mom has time to worry herself sick.”

“Good plan,” Bucky said kissing your cheek, “I’ll see you in a little while?”

“The hospice nurse or Aunt Judy will let you in,” you say nodding, strolling out of the coffee shop and back to the book store, jogging across the street to get out of the cold. 

“I like her,” Becky said, hopping up into the passenger seat of Bucky’s truck. “Ma does too,” she added.

“Yeah, and?” Bucky said, suspicious. 

“Are you gonna Marry her?” she asked, looking up at him innocently. She was 15 and god bless her, she still didn’t have a clue. 

“Maybe,” he said after a moment, starting his truck.

“Maybe?” she asked affronted, “Don’t you love her?”

“Becky,” he said trying to be patient, “it isn’t that simple.”

“Yes it is,” she protested, “You love someone, you marry them, you have babies.”

He sighed, “Yeah, but after Kaity dies it’ll be a little hard to marry her if she just up and leaves town.”

That makes her stop, “But doesn’t she love you?”

Bucky knew you did. You’d not said it but, you let him in. You talked to him. You let him help you. You weren’t vulnerable in front of people you didn’t love. You’d shown him that you loved him. There was no judgment when any of his old one night stands tried to get round two when you were out. There was no nagging, just a simple request and an occasional gentle reminder. Hell, you just beat a guy up for his little sister. You loved him, but not saying it was protection. One last little flimsy barrier in case he decided he didn’t want you anymore. 

“Yeah,” he said, “She does. But that doesn’t mean she’ll want to stay here for me.”

“That’s stupid,” Becky protested, “How could anyone want to leave.”

“Becky,” he said gently, “I know you’re too young to really remember any of this. But just trust me. Y/N has reasons to want to leave. She’s got a lot of bad memories here. Shit that would probably give you nightmares. Just...  don’t you worry your pretty little head about us okay?”

Becky frowns, pouting but doesn’t respond, turning to look out the window.

_________

Bucky sat on the couch, waiting for you and listening to Kaity and her dad in the other room. He and the Hospice nurse were trying to help her get clean pajamas on so she could come sit with the family and do a little Christmas Eve gathering before you went with Bucky to the Christmas Party that Nat was hosting at the clubhouse. He knew today was a bad day. They had her on a lot of painkillers and she was struggling. Struggling and grumpy and very clearly, she was dying. 

Bucky watched as you shrugged out of your coat and boots, heading to the bedroom and slipping in quietly, “I’m sorry I’m late, Cat- Cat,” you murmur, “C’mon. Let’s get you dressed okay? Then you can sleep for a little bit while Aunt Judy and I get dinner around.”

“I’m so tired, dolly,” she half sobbed.

“I know,” you answer, “But you’ll sleep better in some clean jammies.”

Bucky can’t look at Jack as he slips out, leaving Kaity in your loving hands. The big man has aged about 10 years in the last month and Bucky can’t fault the guy for fixing himself a drink, though he declines one himself, still keeping to his policy of not drinking when he’s with you. 

When you slip out after getting Kaity settled in, bucky stands up and pulls you against his chest, hugging you hard. He’s convinced you might be one of the bravest people he’s ever met. And even brave people need some calm in the storm. When you bury your face against him and breathe him in, he rubs your back slowly and kisses your head.

After a long moment, you let him go and pad towards the kitchen to start putting food out and getting things warmed up. Jack catches your hand and squeezes gently, “I’m glad you’re home for Christmas, Darlin’. It’s never right without you.”

You smile a little and head into the kitchen. You don’t say what you’re thinking. That it still isn’t right. That it’ll never be right again. That you wish you’d tried to die a little harder so you wouldn’t have to watch your family torn apart in slow motion. That in the back of your mind, this is all retribution for something you did. What if it really is your fault. If Kaity got cancer from like meth exposure. Something that she’d only have gotten from your house second hand. 

“Dolly?” Bucky finally asked in the quiet. Cat-Cat, he understood. It was a cutesey name. Probably the way you mispronounced Kaity as a toddler. 

Jack smiled a little and walked to the mantle, picking up a well-loved photo in a frame. Almost four-year-old Kaity holding a very, very, tiny baby. “Y/N’s parent’s lost custody of her the first time before she was even out of the hospital... So when it was time for her to come home, she came to us. We had space and Judy was still at home with Kaity all day so someone could care for her... She was so small that Kaity thought she was a baby doll. Didn’t think she was a real baby and asked me where her batteries went.” He sighed, “And so the name just kinda... stuck.”

Bucky looked at that picture and tried to reconcile it with the woman in the kitchen. He couldn’t. And he couldn’t imagine not loving you enough to be around for you. Jack put the photo back and sighed, “This is killing her,” he said quietly, “Watching Kaity suffer. It’s been awful on her mom and me, I’d give anything to trade places with my daughter. But. Son, when Kaity does pass, you watch that one like a hawk. We- I found her that first time.” He takes a deep breath and a sip of his drink, “We thought she was fine. She was so grown up. Handled everything so well. Went back to school. Was passing all her classes still... But god. If that didn’t scare the life out of me. I don’t, to this day, know what was going through her head going back to that house. I think. I know she thought no one would ever find her. It’s a miracle she’s still alive.” Jack is watching you work and shakes his head, “If we lose her too,” he said softly, “I don’t know what we’re gonna do.”

Bucky doesn’t know what to say and swallows hard, staring uselessly into the kitchen where Judy’s joined you. 

“Kaity left her the shop, and the house is hers according to the land trust,” Jack said quietly, “The shop... She can sell if she wants. I just. We want her to be happy.”

“Me too,” Bucky said quietly.

_______

At dinner, Kaity can’t be gotten out of bed. She’s just too tired to get up, so you sit with her, cuddled up next to her to watch Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer like you do every year. Bucky waits patiently,  helping himself to a little more to eat and trying not to think about how little he’s been able to get you to eat and how many times you’ve turned a little green just minutes after you’ve eaten and had to find a bathroom. Your plate is still mostly untouched, you nibbled a little between putting things on Bucky’s plate and fussing over the rest of your family, but there’s nothing missing hardly. 

When Kaity falls asleep as the credits roll, you tuck her in and slip out, hugging your aunt and Uncle, “I won’t be out late,” you tell them, “And don’t forget. I put extra blankets in the hall closet for you and the breakfast stuff in in the top shelf in the fridge.”

Judy chucks you under the chin, “You just get out of here for a while,” she said,  “Go have a little fun. Hell. Stay out all night if you want, we’ll see you in the morning for Christmas presents... go find some mistletoe to kiss that poor boy under.” She winks at you and you blush, shrugging into your coat.

“Whatever you do, just don’t get pregnant,” is all Jack had to say as he scrolled through channels looking for some sports to watch. 

Bucky chokes on his soda for a second and you giggle, making Jack chuckle and wink at him. He was a simple man. He had simple tastes. He liked fucking with people. 

___________

At the Bar, you and Bucky take your normal seats and you very politely order a Shirley Temple, with a smile. Nat rolls her eyes but hands it to you before handing Bucky another soda. “Merry Christmas,” Clint said kissing your cheek before kissing Bucky’s and getting swatted at. 

“Merry Christmas,” you tell him, watching him scuffle with Bucky. No one asked you about Kaity. No one needed to. Bucky had pleaded with them to just let you be about it tonight and that was all they needed to know.

You and Nat trade looks over the bar and she smiles, “Are you going to Winnie’s for Christmas tomorrow?” You nod, “Probably in the Evening,” you tell her, “It’s- it’s Kaity’s last Christmas so I kinda want to spend most of the day with her.”

Nat feels her stomach churn. There’s an eerie finality to hearing you say that outloud after pleading with doctors to help her for so long. Natasha nods and kisses your cheek. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs. You shake your head and wipe tears away, putting on a brave face. You don’t say anything else, but then, you don’t get a chance. 

The band Starts to play and Bucky pulls you into his lap, humming along, and holding you there, at least until they play a slow song and he can drag you giggling and protesting onto the floor. It’s a nice night. Nat coaxes you into a glass of wine and Bucky lets himself have one beer. You win a game of pool against Steve. You and Nat conspire to get Steve and Tony under some mistletoe. And by the time Bucky gets you into his truck again, you don’t want to go home.

“Can we go back to your place?” you ask quietly. 

Bucky nods and watches as you text your Aunt, telling her you’re fine just going to sleep at Bucky’s so you don’t wake Kaity coming in. 

He drives, holding your hand and helps you up the steps. “You okay, baby girl?” he asked softly. 

“I think so,” you murmur.

He helps you out of your coat and kisses your neck softly, “Think so?”

“Bucky?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper. 

“Yeah?”

“I- I just. I love you.” you blurt out.

“I love you too,” he said, kissing your nose, smiling softly, “I always have.”

You smile and kiss his jaw, “Then will you do something for me?”

“Anything, baby.”

“Make love to me?” Your cheeks are burning as you say it, but the wide soft eyes that look up at him make him melt. He cant’ do much else but nod and claim your lips in a tender kiss while he tried to find the words to say.

“Are you sure?” he asks softly, “We don’t have to.”

“Please?” you murmur.

Bucky can’t do anything else after that. You’re in his arms being carried to his bed. The closest soft surface he can find to lay you on before you have time to talk yourself out of it.

Tags: @lancsnerd @stevieang @blameitonthecauseway @thorfanficwriter @etherealwaifgoddess

[purplesurveys]

721

Have you ever disliked someone just because a friend disliked them? Yessssss. That’s my job as a best friend hahahaha half kidding. No but seriously though, I have. I mean I’d still be objective and tell my friend if their enemy is making sense in some aspects, but at the end of the day I’ll give them the extra support by disliking that person anyway. Which would you rather own: A camera or a video camera. Why? Video camera, because I’ve always wanted to start vlogging and my phone’s camera is already quite decent, so I’m not really needing a camera right now. Have you ever won a lot of money in a slot machine? How much? Nah, I’ve never even played in a casino. I’ve been in one but I was only 18 then, so I couldn’t really do anything except to walk through the casino and stare at all the machines and booths that I couldn’t play at haha. Do you watch sports on TV even though you aren't a sporty person yourself? I will sometimes watch a tennis or MMA match if I catch them on, but that’s about it. I wouldn’t know who to root for either, or know who’s the better player; I just watch for the action. Do you eat / drink at your computer? Yes but I try to avoid it more these days because I hate greasing up my trackpad or leaving bits of food on my keyboard. If I really have to eat at my laptop I’ll put on a show or a video to watch so that I don’t have to actually be using my laptop.

How much do you overeat at special occasions? (Birthdays, Christmas, etc) I don’t think I have the capacity to overeat haha. My room for food is small so when I get full I simply stop eating, or I no longer get up to get a second serving. Generally I try to get a piece of every meal though, no matter how little; I always want to have a taste of everything so that I don’t miss out. The music you listen to: Is it mostly sung by female or male vocalists? I think it’s an equal amount but when it comes to frequency I think I’ve been listening to female vocalists more often – Beyoncé, Paramore, The Japanese House, Banks, etc. My playlists generally have both female and male artists though cause I also listen to Hozier, alt-J, Coldplay, Rhye, Joji, and other male dudes. Do you think it's important to enjoy your job or do you just work for money? As much as possible people should always aim to end up somewhere where they love what they do for a living, but given that I’m quite materialistic but mostly grew up in a household with a mom who was very frugal and often reiterated the joys of a simple life (aka a life I hated lmao), I think I’d have no problem having a job that pays handsomely but wasn’t necessarily viewed as fun. I wanna be able to spoil and reward myself after all the work I do. Do you require glasses / contacts to see properly? If so, which do you use? Yeah, I have glasses. Tell me an embarrassing thing that happened to you recently: I shared a serious-toned Facebook post earlier tonight and Gabie’s dad gave it a like. I’ve mostly forgotten he was my Facebook friend and so I started feeling embarrassed because normally I would shitpost and share stupid memes and if he liked my post, it must mean he sees everything I share jkfhjkfhjkf. When you hear your voice back on a recording, do you think it sounds awful? No. I don’t usually cringe when I hear it; I think it sounds okay. When was the last time you got the hiccups? Aaaaaaaaages ago. I can’t even tell you when. If you had to, which record would you go into Guinness World Records for? I saw a video on Facebook of this woman getting into Guinness for finishing the most jars of mayonnaise in a certain amount of time (I wanna say 5 minutes?) and I was so thrilled to see such a record cause I can honestly see myself breaking it HAHAHAHAHA mayonnaise is <3 The last sweet thing you ate: What was it? A chocolate chip cookie, except we don’t have chocolate chips so my dad had to improvise and chopped up Flat Tops instead. If you had to change your name, what would you change it to? I’d toy with my second name and probably go with Belle or Bella. Do you have a middle name? Do you find it embarrassing? Yeah I think all Filipinos come with a legal second name. I don’t find mine embarrassing it all; it’s a source of great pride since I have a lot of relatives etched in Philippine history with that name. I don’t ever want to lose it and I’ll probably continue to keep it even after I’m married. What would you choose to be famous for? It’d be nice to be known for a blog. If I had the time, resources, and tbh the connections it would be amazing to write about anything under the sun for an audience. What is your current occupation? Do you enjoy it? I don’t have any at the moment, but I’m about to start looking for one. Do / Did you enjoy school? Why (not)? There are some parts I enjoy/ed (the friends I made for high school, the overwhelming independence I gained in college) and some parts I hate/d (some classes I was forced to take in high school, my inability to adjust during my first year of college). I don’t regret either periods though, and I can never say I completely hated them. If you have a webcam, are you ever paranoid people can see you? Yes hahaha. I never got around to buying a webcam protector either. Do you find it difficult to sleep at night? Any reason(s) why? Only when there’s something unresolved, like a deadline that’s bugging me or if Gab and I have been arguing. Otherwise I’m knocked out in like 10 minutes. If you had to go on a game show, which would you choose? Family Feud or Jeopardy. What about if you had to go on a reality show? Which would you choose then? QUEER EYE. Talk about wholesome. Tell me about your favourite TV show: Blue meth, New Mexico, lots of chemistry, objectively one of the greatest pieces of television ever. Have you ever wished you were born the opposite gender? Why? I probably wished this a few times when I was a pre-teen and liking girly things was still seen as lame. How the hell did we not question mindsets like that before, damn. If you had dental braces, which colour would you make them? I did have braces and I always picked a different color for every trip to the dentist, so it’s very possible I had tried out the entire rainbow. Does any part of your body hurt right now? Where and why? My back hurts rn, understandably, because my posture is shitty. Why were you last irritated? Slow internet. What time did you get up this morning? I think that was already 11 in the morning. The last city you were in: Where was it and do you like it there? Other than my own it was in Pasig. It’s okay but I definitely prefer other cities. It’s a little too crowded and congested for me and also too expensive to stay at, eugh. If I had the choice I’d rather hang in Makati or QC. Do you like the countryside? They’re nice spots for a short vacation, but I wouldn’t want to live there. I’ve grown used to the hustle and bustle of cities. If you see someone yawn, do you often yawn as well? Sure. Recommend me a good movie: Good Will Hunting, Requiem for a Dream (but sad), Roman Holiday, Gone with the Wind, 2001: A Space Odyssey. Do you think you'd make a good model? Would you ever want to be one? I don’t work out or do anything to maintain a certain figure so I don’t have the the ideal body for modeling; if anything the only factor I have going for me is the fact that I’m quite skinny. I did want to be a model when I was a teenager though; that was around the time VS Angels were extremely popular, so I’m not surprised I used to want to be like them. How often do you change your hairstyle? What does it look like now? I only change it up once a year. Right now I have a bit of a bob with bangs. Truth or Dare? Truth. I never have a problem saying the truth lmao. Do you have a favourite day of the week? Which is it? This semester it was Tuesday, because it had my lightest schedule. Nowadays every week is just a blur to me and I stopped having a favorite day.

[daybreak-academy-fanfic]

Daybreak Academy: Chapter 20

Queen of Peace

Summary: In which, at April’s angered behest, Ava contacts the superintendent. Word Count: 1,534 First | Previous | Next ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆ ⚬ ☆

“He did what?”

If Ava's jaw could have dropped any lower, it would have. Daybreak Academy's musical director, April Tremaine, gave a bemused smirk.

“You're acting like he decided to go skinny dipping in a kiddie pool.” she even teased. “Is it really that weird for a grown man to join in on open mic night?”

Ava didn't answer at first- instead knitting her fingers together from under her desk. Even if she couldn't see it, April could sense Ava's hesitation.

“Or, it's not open mic night you're worried about?” April then guessed. At Ava's persistent silence, April decided to switch tactics. And it meant putting on her mom hat and glaring Ava down. “What is going on between you five?” she all but demanded in a voice she really hated using. “The other staff is starting to question what's up too.”

“I...” Ava finally started to say. “It's complicated. I've been meaning to contact the superintendent.”

“So why haven't you?”

Again, the only answer Ava could give was silence. April's eyes narrowed. With or without her permission, April's mom mode had been activated big time. It was pretty impressive considering her own child barely saw this side of her.

“Ava,” April demanded. “Listen to me, and listen to me good- none of us wanted five headmasters. Us senior staff knew it was going to divide the kids even further. And while many of us still have respect for you five, it grows incredibly thin on days when we're not informed of what is going on. Let the superintendent know that when you contact him. Got it?”

Ava flinched. April wasn't giving a request, it was an order.

“I… I will.” Ava promised. “Thank you for your opinion, April.”

April gave nothing more than an annoyed huff as she spun on her heel to leave. The mild slam of the door was her last stand in the matter, and it made Ava flinch again.

As a still, almost chilling, air started to fill Ava's office, the young headmaster looked down at her desk in shame. She glanced over at her phone and then quickly looked away again. There was a reason why she hadn't contacted the superintendent, and it was close to the same reason why the other headmasters hadn't done the same; they didn't want Aced to get in trouble. Was he in trouble? Sure, possibly, he assaulted an independent school operator and fellow headmaster in the same afternoon. But did it warrant enough for him to potentially lose his job if it were reported? Depending on how it was worded? It was a large possibility.

And, of course, the rest of the staff was beginning to notice, as April had pointed out. If the staff knew, then the kids were starting to catch on as well. Payroll staff were one of the biggest gossips on campus; Ava was just lucky that many of them -like April- would bring their complaints directly to her. But then that lead into a different problem; how did she get stuck being everyone's queen of peace? Invi was the one who kept the most tabs on the school's activities, along with crowd control when the time called for it. Not that it had worked out very well last time…

With that final thought, Ava reached for the phone and started to dial the superintendent's business number. She immediately regretted it the moment after as she listened to the phone try to connect. Being unable to knit her hands together (what with one hand holding the phone), Ava instead opted to drum her fingers on the desk as the phone continued to ring. It was at the tenth ring that the superintendent decided to pick up.

“Oh, Ava!” he greeted in a bright tone. Something in Ava relaxed- it's been awhile since she'd heard that voice. “It's been awhile since I've heard from you and my other well chosen headmasters! How have you been?”

The smile that had been on Ava's face was wiped away with a shake of her head. Focus, Ava, you're here for business and not idle chit-chat.

“Sir, I wanted to discuss...”

“Hey,” he then casually said, cutting her off, “How about we talk in the flesh? I'm in town for awhile and I've been meaning to make a trip up to the academy; but if you come to me, then we can talk things out one on one. What do you say?”

For a moment, Ava was at a loss for words. She even wondered if someone had told him about Aced's outburst. But that was impossible, no one knew but the headmasters and Ephemer. That Moogle, maybe, but it wouldn't have said anything to the superintendent. Would it?

“Yeah, that would be nice.” Ava found herself agreeing.

“Great! There's a swell little coffee shop in Cable Town, I think it's called Club 13- I hear it's a pretty hipster. Meet me there tomorrow around, oh say, noon-ish. Alright?”

“S-sure.”

“It's been great hearing from you Ava, see you tomorrow!” and with that, the line went dead. Ava stared at the receiver for a moment before placing the phone down. What just happened?

. . .

Back when she was a student, Ava had known the superintendent as the sole headmaster of Daybreak. Aced and Ira had already graduated and were taking an apprenticeship as future administrators. Invi was six years older than Ava, but was also on the fast track to doing the same as the boys. Gula had been the youngest, attending Daybreak Academy a year after Ava started. And it was Gula who started to call the then headmaster MoM.

There was some joke behind it, but Ava couldn't remember it for the life of her now. It was... an acronym, of something. Master of Monotony? No… Mischiever on Meth? Nah, not that she would put it past Gula to have made that joke once. But it was always the name Ava associated with the headmaster, even now when he was their current superintendent: MoM. The worst irony about the nickname was that the man was anything but motherly (or fatherly, for that matter) in the way he taught them. He was stubborn, a practical joker, cryptic, and -on rare, rather scary occasions- dead serious.

But when she saw that 60 or 70 something man drinking from a glass cola bottle with a big red and white straw, it felt as if no time has passed between them.

“Ava!” he happily greeted as she took a seat across from him. “Aren't you a sight for sore eyes!”

“It's great to see you too.” Ava agreed.

“Now,” MoM cheerfully declared, “Let's order some cake and you can tell me all about your troubles. Assume most of them are school related, and not general catching up stuff?”

“Unfortunately.” Ava agreed with a nod.

As she then went on to explain the situation, MoM only seemed to be half listening. On numerous occasions he called for the waitress to bring them another drink, or ordered another slice of cake for himself. When Ava was finished, he let out a pensive silence pass between them.

“Seems like quite the pickle.” he eventually said to her. “But Aced's a stubborn guy, he'll get himself together eventually.”

For some reason, this wasn't the answer she had been expecting, so Ava let out a small, “Right...”

“But,” the superintendent then mused, “In the mean time, I do have an idea on how you could increase student morale.”

“How?” Ava asked, almost a bit too quickly.

“Create an entirely separate organization- something like a student council, but more… politically present, so to speak. Allow them to learn the ropes of what it takes to be a great headmaster, and then when the times comes, they will be. Simple, no?”

“Would that really work?”

“It worked for you five, didn't it?”

Ava thought about it, and April's threat from earlier came back quickly. 'None of us wanted five headmasters. We knew it would divide the kids further.'

“Sir, I don't think...”

“Well that was a great talk! Thanks for meeting with me, Ava, but now I've gotta jet. I'm expecting a video conference with Luxu in the next half hour or so, and you know how he is with being late.”

Ava gave a half hearted nod. She only had faint memories of Luxu, who had acted as a headmaster before she and Gula signed on. Other than that, Ava knew next to nothing about the man.

The superintendent didn't seem to notice her response. Once he had gotten up, he went over to give Ava a kindly pat on the head.

“Don't be such a stranger next time, Ava. I like talking to you five- we're like a family, you know? Just make sure that your new student council can work well with each other, or it'll all fall flat.”

“Of course.” Ava agreed without looking at him. And with that, the superintendent paid for their bill and disappeared into the street. It was only now that Ava realized she had knit her fingers together in anxiety.

“A student council…?” she mumbled to herself. “Would it even work...?”

[aintgonnaleaveyoumikey]

Pairings: Trikey Rating: M Summary: They fell into a pattern, an infinite loop. To break it, Michael has to stay or Trevor has to let him go. Post main story pining and a suggestion for why Trev is so bitchy when he’s found throwing grenades in his driveway. [AO3]

.*Breaking Chains*.

Trevor pulled the pin and for a brief moment, it was like holding sundown in the palm of his hand: fleeting. And then he let it go.

The subsequent bang brought with it a flash of gold, a rumbling in his eardrums and bones...and the routine appearance of a black sedan pulling up garage-side in the dusty street. He watched it come to a stop—watched while the scent of cash blew into a slum and a lamb fell into a shark tank.

He wasn’t sure which he’d rather be.

Fuck.

There wasn’t enough liquor in the entire world now, not that there ever had been or would be when it came to Michael fucking Townley. It was the same feeling, whether he wore the clothes of a lover or a traitor, whether he had the swagger of youth in his step or a decade of mistakes written between the wrinkles now creasing his features. Mikey: always two steps out of reach with meaningless promises, a mirage of water in a parched wasteland of loneliness.

And yet, there he was. Again. And again and again and again and...

Despite the futility of it all, cracked lips met the whiskey bottle while Trevor’s eyes rolled back with his head. Bottoms up, he drank deep to will away the ghost now leisurely approaching, as if another unannounced visit to Sandy Shores was no more than a Sunday stroll around the block.

“T. Hey.”

His lashes parted again to a pair of black birds soaring over the colors of dusk and without facing the apparition, Trevor blindly set the whiskey down behind him. “I’d get out of the way if I were you.” He pulled another pin free and breathed a singsong, “Thank fuck I’m not you, though.”

Toss. Bang. Gold. Rumble.

Sundown after sundown.

“Guess this is what fun in the desert looks like. Heh, wish I’d known about it when we were playing house here.” It was a joke, both the sarcastic-laden suggestion and how it could still pierce Trevor’s heart despite knowing its jest.

“Mmhm, yep.” Still refusing to offer even the hint of a glance over his shoulder, he reached back for the booze. “Your life in Plastic Town isn’t playing house though, right? Sugar Tits, how do you live in such denial?”

With the kick of a polished shoe to the driveway, Michael squinted and sucked his teeth. His shoulders were loose, hands stuffed in his trouser pockets and he jingled his keys before giving off an airy sigh. “Some things never change, huh...”

The laugh that erupted from the depths of Trevor’s throat went short-lived and preceded another swig of liquor stinging its way down. “Now if those ain’t the truest words ever spoken.” At last, he turned and thrust the bottle toward his visitor. “You’ll always be an entitled prick, for instance.”

“Oh for Christ’s sake, T, can we just—”

“Disappearing for ten years and then just showing up whenever it suits the frequent swingin’ of your moods. Must be nice, Mikey.”

“Look, man.” Shrugging, Michael pulled his hands free and slid the tinted shades from the bridge of his nose. They folded with a pointed snap. “If you wanna keep throwing grenades and pissing off your neighbors, that’s fine by me. I can go get lost for another ten if it’s what you want.”

Ouch.

Trevor peered at Michael for long enough to err on awkward silence, before his arm finally fell with the whiskey sloshing as consequence. “You are an asshole.” He relented, however, the anger that shaded his tone dissipating in the bat of an eyelash. “So what favor do you need from ol’ T this time, mm?”

Michael’s brow twitched but he wasn’t quick enough to inquire.

“What? What else would bring you to my ever humble abode again, if not to inconvenience me in some beyond annoying way?” Trevor’s fingertips caressed over grooves and smooth edges, turning the next grenade around in his hand. If his dear compadre over there wanted to do this ridiculous dance every week, they’d dance. Every week. Until it got boring, of course.

Would it ever get boring, though? The name inked on Trevor’s bicep suggested he already knew the answer, but his imagination could deflect and chase a proverbial butterfly all it liked.

“Nah, it’s not...it’s not like that, T. Come on. I was in the neighborhood and felt like dropping in.”

“In the neighborhood.”

Rocking to and fro on his soles, Michael remained aloof and let his gaze wander. “So, uh, drinkin' with me is an inconvenience?”

Trevor scoffed and cocked his head. “When you speak in bullshit innuendos, yeah, a bit.” The final pin hit the ground with a soft clang and the shell went rolling toward the street. Boom. “Buuuut I never did like doing shit the easy way, so let’s get a move on, porkchop.” He approached with a slap to Michael’s arm, his fingertips pressing inward then and trailing down to the small of his back. “Let’s get a drink.” The words spilled from Trevor’s lips in a dangerous half purr. “Make up for a whole seven days of lost time.”

Michael’s face turned in slow motion until the tips of their noses nearly touched, his eyes half-lidded and the curl of his dark lashes prominent. He spoke just as softly then, a whisper riding out on his breath over the scent of mint and cigarettes. “Whatever it takes, Trevor.”

And that was that.

The pair approached the trailer door without so much an acknowledgement of Ron sitting on the porch, tinkering with some dilapidated tinfoil hat device as per usual. He’d have enough sense to leave soon anyway. ...Maybe. Then again, maybe not. Whatever the case, Trevor had one fuck to give at present and if Ron wanted to linger about while the whole universe rattled and his voice sang to the gods, so be it.

Wouldn’t be the first time.

His gaze met Michael’s while Phil Collins’ “I Don’t Care Anymore” played on the kitchen radio.

...Nor would it apparently be the last.

~

“I love my life,” declared a vapid voice, while cigarette smoke drifted in lazy tendrils through a conspicuous melancholy looming over the bed.

Outside, the sun had long relinquished its reign to a sea of diamonds, the moon a giant glowing pearl cradled in the lap of glittering celestial fabric. It was strange to think that Sandy Shores and Los Santos existed under this same sky, and even stranger that for ten years, Trevor and Michael had too—as separate and distinct as their places of residence. It was strange that neither yet moved now to trade the view of a rusty metal ceiling for the stars outside, strange that each found some vestige of comfort lying beside the other in less than favorable conditions.

Such was life, though: the very one Michael spoke of.

“I love it,” he repeated in a whisper, his eyes unblinking for too long.

Though an empty can was present on the nightstand next to him, Trevor flicked accumulated ash over the side of the bed. His right arm was raised and resting against a wafer-thin pillow, the crook supporting his head. The cigarette met his lips and he drew on it once more, while music no one was listening to continued wafting from the opposite end of the space; it was just Pat Benatar, anyway...

Only when the glowing orange line threatened to burn into the filter was when he put the smoke out, stretched, and finally turned his face. “So. What’s next, cowboy? Mm?”

Michael kept his attention trained on the ceiling, several moments of mock consideration passing before he answered, “The Yellow Jack?”

“...The Yellow Jack,” Trevor repeated in disdain.

Squinting, Michael licked his lips. “All right. The bar next door.”

When that suggestion was met with a huff out the nostrils, he sat up in annoyance. “The meth lab then. A fucking...road trip to the mountains, tennis at the god damn beach. Let’s steal a fucking plane and fly it until it burns up in the fucking atmosphere, I don’t know, T. What the fuck do you want me to say?”

“It’s the same shit every week, Mikey. Think about that.” Trevor pushed himself to stand at the bedside, and bare-ass naked, peered down at his companion humorously opting to remain covered by a thin sheet. “You’re not stupid. You just love denial.” From there, he itched at his groin and strutted to the bathroom for a piss while calling out, “Always have, always will.”

“Fucking whatever, man.”

It wasn’t long before Trevor reappeared in the doorway. “So, the Yellow Jack. And after that, the lab, the mountains, the beach. Then we fly into the sun. And then?”

“And then what?”

“How long would you say is too long, Michael? To wait for someone.” Trevor wandered to the closet and swatted at a pair of moths. “Ten years?”

Silence.

“Or is it twenty?”

Silence.

“Mm, I see.” He slid into the greatest treasure ever found at Binco—his prized pink leopard print briefs—and continued dressing. “Looks like the Yellow Jack Inn it is, porkchop.”

“Trevor.”

“Hurry the fuck up or you’ll be walking. I’m ready to stomp out some redneck ass, relieve myself of some fucking pent up aggression.”

The front door swung open and closed, Trevor’s voice muffled and permeating from the porch.

“Ronald, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Everything, Trevor!”

“It’s one week,” Michael answered at last, to no one. “One week is a long fucking time.”

He dragged out the process of cleaning himself up and donning his clothes, simultaneously hoping and dreading that he’d taken too long. To no surprise, though, Trevor still sat waiting in the truck when he finally made it outside.

~

Climbing to the roof of an abandoned motel while intoxicated was both a stupid idea and cheap thrill. Driving hours to the desert to run from a reality he’d given everything up for was a fitting parallel, so naturally, Michael went along with it.

He stood at Trevor’s side under a million stars and stared into infinity itself.

“I want to love my life, T.”

“Yeah.”

“So I should stop. Man, I gotta stop, it’s...”

“Yeah.”

“And we should probably...”

“For sure, Michael.”

They were quiet for a long while in a universe only big enough for two, each wondering in a drunken haze if the other knew what the hell he was even talking about. And then they questioned if they even knew, themselves.

At some point, their pinkies entwined first to test the waters, and the other fingers followed, threading together tighter and tighter yet. Was this holding with possession before letting go forever, or the intention of never letting go at all? The answer remained irritatingly elusive.

In any case, when the first rays of sunlight embraced the horizon once more, Michael’s eyes opened to find himself back in a bed which both did and didn’t belong to him. He elongated himself in a stretch, pointed his toes downward, and then looked to Trevor—watched while he took steady breaths in his sleep, focused on his barely parted mouth, and felt the magnetism drawing him in.

He used to feel this pull on his heart, twenty years ago.

Michael leaned over slowly. Their noses touched, the space separating his lips from Trevor’s closed to mere millimeters and just before it became none, a familiar ghost posed a familiar inquiry.

What’s next, cowboy?

He stopped short of consummating the kiss.

Get a drink. The Yellow Jack. The bar next door... Michael’s gaze drifted to the side. Actually feel alive for a few hours and then return to the life he should love, must love—the life he gave up everything, gave up Trevor for.

...How long was too long to wait for someone?

And how long was too long to burn in the inferno of a self-made purgatory?

He withdrew; got up, got dressed, walked by Ron passed out on the porch couch with a beer in hand, and slid into the car. It was only 6AM and the heat was already suffocating, but that wasn’t a new feeling for Michael. He turned up the AC, pulled onto the dirt road, and drove.

It wasn’t until he reached the entrance ramp of the highway when he noticed how silent the world was outside of his mind, so he reached for the radio just in time to once again hear Phil Collins singing about how he didn’t care anymore. Must be nice.

~

He was becoming a true creature of habit. That was what Michael decided when he found himself strolling up a dusk-colored desert driveway exactly seven days after the last time he found himself doing the same thing...after a previous seven and another seven before then, and more yet. But he wasn’t the only one. In the same place, entertaining himself with the same activities, was the same person as always.

And that was when it occurred to him, the infinite loop: redundant and reiterating, comfortably uncomfortable, never a change or deviation. And in it, with no foreseeable end and no clear beginning, they were both stuck.

Michael slid the shades from his face and closed them with a snap. “...T. Hey.”

“I’d get out of the way...”

His freshly polished shoes remained in place and he said nothing more, simply opted to watch Trevor’s avoidance of him while he kept tossing grenades and drinking straight from the bottle. Someday, Michael thought, he might be strong enough to stay. Or perhaps Trevor might be strong enough to finally let him go. The latter was the path of least resistance, and what he strangely both dreaded and hoped for.

But when his eyes fell to his name inked on a bicep, he studied it for some time. And then finally... “T.”

“Time for the weekly drink, the weekly argument. The Yellow Jack, the bar next door...” Shrugging, Trevor set the whiskey down. “Let’s get a move on, porkchop. Make up for that lost time, mm?”

Michael huffed with a shake of his head. “A week? Or ten years of it?”

Raising his chin quickly, Trevor looked to him but Michael pivoted and let his footsteps carry him back to his car.

“I dunno, T. But I’m going back to the roof of the motel to try to figure it out.” The alarm disengaged with a chirp and as the door opened, he cocked his head. “You comin’?”

Trevor hesitated, scrutiny worn with conspicuous measure across his features. At last, his shoulders rose and his apathy was almost believable when he capitulated. “Ah, sure, why the hell not?” He tossed the bottle over the fence and strutted to the passenger door. “Would break up this fuckin’ monotony anyway.”

Michael breathed a laugh. “Yeah.” When he slipped into the seat, he changed the radio station to something new—some kind of electronic noise kids these days listened to. “I was thinking the same thing.”

As they drove down the street, Trevor put his feet on the dashboard and pressed his thumbs together. “So. This is really the end of us getting drinks, Mikey?”

“Shit, T. The end, the beginning.” Michael’s right hand slipped off the steering wheel and fell open-palmed between them. “Who fuckin’ knows anymore.”

It was a moment before Trevor’s fingers entwined with his own. “Good enough for me, Michael.” A beat. “For now.”

“For now,” Michael echoed. He drove past the motel and chased the sun until the last of its rays bled into the darkness—without ever letting go of Trevor’s hand, without Trevor ever letting go of his.

Hey. Maybe it was a start after all.

~

// Thank you for reading! This is my first story for this pairing and fandom. I’m sorry for any mistakes.

[larenoz]

Roswell New Mexico - Live Rewatch - Ep 1 - Pilot

So I don’t really have much in the way of original content on my blog. So I decided it might be fun to post the live blog I’ve been doing on discord of the rewatch our server is doing for Roswell, New Mexico over the hiatus period. 

I’ve only posted my comments, so there might be a couple of bits that look out of place. These are my responses to other people’s comments. I’m up to episode 6, so I will post the backlog and then do one a week until the re-watch is complete.

Be warned, there is swearing. 

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Sorry, cat decided it wanted a cuddle

I love the glass effect, it's so cool

You may not plan to see the small people again, Liz but we know it's gonna happen!!

Not gonna lie, I love poltics in my TV

You quote that verdict to him, Liz!!

That vent tells us so much about Liz in such a short period of time.

You're finally back says Max.Because he's been waiting for that to happen the whole time.

Excuse me Sheriff, with that good girl comment. Rude!

Arturo, playing along with Liz's mpreg story.

Fuck, I just realised - mpreg is canon!?!

Rosa!!

I want antenna headband

Cream on a milkshake is wrong.

So many people in this show have pretty eyes!!

Nooo.

Damn that's alot of lights to replace

I love that damn bullet hole in Liz's dress. It was the first indication they weren't gonna make everyone dumb as a bag of rocks and drag the storyline out FOR EVER.

Hoverboarding. Iz!!

Hey there Kyle!

Annnd here it comes, I'm in love.

That smug fucking grin. The song.

That look when he's trying to get the keys. That look would make you do just about anything.

That Michael monologue. It just gets better everytime I watch it.

Without a doubt, top 3 best character intros ever.

And we're only 15 mins in! I need to make less comments

I didn't think anyone was reading!! :wink:

"Untie some loose ends" - you go Iz

Oh Max you fucker. Telling Michael he wouldn't do anything for anyone else. Excuse fucking you.

Ok, blasting Max across the room is kinda hot. But then his guilty face! :sob:

And god, that little shoulder touch on Iz one the way out.

Another example of non-verbal storytelling. In one scene we get the fractured relationship between Max and Michael, we get that Iz and Michael are close and that both boys defer/protect Iz. So much with so little. It also sets up the physicality of the broken relationship between Max and Michael.

Others have commented on how Max is physically intimidating with people, and literally pushes Michael around, but to be fair, Michael is pretty much the same with Max (but never really with anyone else that we see on screen though we hear about it.

And then in a few lines, Iz gives us a lifetime of fears and concerns - dissection, prison, lying and hiding to loved ones - the rest of the season in seconds of dialogue

Ah, the ONLY thing that gives me Max feels is how dismissive both Iz and Michael are of Max's feelings about Liz. Especially annoying consider Michael should really fucking know better.

Yeah, because he's been pining for Alex just as long.

Unrequited love hurts just as much. Kiss or no kiss.

That's my take anyway.

Here it comes...

Typing may get bad. Cat is sitting on chest and I can't see keyboard.

Seriously, there is nothing overtly relationshippy or sexual, no pointed stares, but just how soft Michael is, even as he's making the real Manes man comment, you just know these two have a past, and that past was probably intimate.

The casual sex comment though, oh yeah they've fucked. That is such a fuck you comment to an ex.

And again with massive story in few words - Alex knocking his leg. "3/4 of one"

That run and tell Daddy line. The nastiest thing Michael says in the entire season, although we don't know that yet. And it strikes such a dissonant tone, even though we don't know why. I'm gonna put it down to things changing so much between shooting the pilot and the rest of the season.

Just my humble opinion but the shirt changing scene could've lasted longer. Just sayin'

Maths, lots and lots of maths

I love the glass SFX

Rosa!! "All our lives that kids been making eyes at you"

Oh Liz, such a good sister. Fixing up the memorial. And the braclets

Ah, sneaky Liz appears

Oh yeah can he keep a secret

Liz begging Max to tell her she isn't loosing her mind. Fuuuck.

Not cool Michael. Great control, but not cool.

Racist Hank, you douche bag

And Maria introduced as taking no shit from ANYONE.

Iz and her slideshow. I love that line.

Why is Iz so vehement that Michael would be so upset about telling Liz?

Max loosing it and Iz looking quite surprised. Forshadowing

yes, Iz no like about it. He is in love with her.

Ah Iz, Iz, Iz. "Too many secrets, things she can't ever know" you don't know the half of it.

Fall in love with someone else.  - If I could have, I would have. Fuck, Max, I feel you on that one.

Jesus, how do all these guys make dark flannel look so hot?

Dance it out. i don't dance in this town anymore, Kyle...

Hot take, I know everyone is mad for Trevino's cheekbones, but honestly, they aren't my thing. But his eyes, gods, his eyes. He has the best eyes on the show. God that make me sound like a freak.

"whatever" with that tiny, tiny almost invisible smirk. Yeah, you think you're all that

He manages that whole distraction use me, use me speech without coming off as a total wanker. And that is pretty amazing.

The station promo/ad on my cable channel has a bit for Roswell - tag line: "Beam me up hotties." Too right.

Scientist Liz!!

Needs answers now.

Fuck you Jesse Manes

I hate you already.

No Kyle, don't do it. But thank fuck he doesn't just start talking,

Yeah, nah Max. That's not how it works. It's not ok if people are nice to you but shitty to everyone else.

Why should Michael like the world? it's been pretty shitty to him!?!

Liz with the serial killer joke, just with the wrong person!!

The pods are sorta cool.

They could've been so chessy.

Now we know why the three of them are so close. And just about the only real bit of exposition on the show.

But will you Liz? Will you keep the promise?

Secret Bunker No 1

"This matters to you, so I'm here". :heart:

Do what Michael, what could you possibly mean?

"Just like you did 10 yrs ago".......

What are you max? Just a guy from Roswell

In Max's favour, when he says he stayed in Roswell, and didn't follow Liz because of Iz and Michael, he doesn't sound resentful, which is sort of what you'd expect here. I like that.And Max going to the reunion for Iz. And Liz tagging along even though she's expecting a bad reception.

"i don't save people all the time. I never save people" But you saved Liz, And why is that Max?

OT re Trevino's eyes. It was that gif set of him laying on his stomach  on his bed (?) with his doggo, looking up to the camera. That angle, OMG, his eyes....

And no verbal confirmation, just Liz realising exactly what Max said - that even though he's in a job where he'd be in contact with sick/dying people alot, he's never saved anyone before. Omph

Of course you remember the very first time you met, Max.

Little kid Max is sooo cute.

Ah you big sap, Max.

No kissing. An "Echo" of what he feels for Liz.

Nice choice of words there writers.

We see what you did there.

So far it's taken me 2 hrs to watch 50 mins

Fuck you again Jesse Manes

Swoon Kyle's eyes.

And we have Kyle's first exposure to the fact that the govt knows about aliens and did medical type stuff to them.  Does this hover in the back of his mind from now on? is this the reason for the quick reaction to his fathers actions at Caufield.?

No he's fucking not cooking meth. Seriously, Alex, what the fuck?

Sorry Alex, not cool, not cool AT all.

I want to see the outakes of Tyler saying phenyl-2-propanone

Because I'm a bitch like that

Yeah, that so serious up close and personal for straight people....

And there is Alex's nastiest line - You're wasting your life. Gods, that is such a shit thing to say to Michael.

And re outtakes because Tyler would laugh and do that thing where he covers his mouth as he trys to stop himself giggling. That's soooo cute.

But anyway, back to the show...

Oh, he wants to hold something, Michael but it's not your hand...

Macho cowboy swagger.

Did it get old for you.

No it did not get fucking old for him. At all.

Michael walking away with arm around girl. Noting for those who say they didn't realise Michael was bi after watching the pilot. How?

How could you miss it?

You go Maria - dying alone of syphillis to bitch

Maybe Liz does still dance in Roswell!! She just needs a good reason.

And that song begins.

"You can't hide from who you are". Alex's prothesis as he looks at himeself skating in the slide show. Fucking killing us.

And it only gets worse-

I don't thnk that's an unpopular opinon at all. That's totally where I see his headspace. But that does result in him saying some nasty shit to Michael. And it's because we know it's not true that it hurts so much.

Fair warning it may take me half an hour to get through the next 2 mins of show!!

Long shot - "Nostalgia's a bitch"

Fuck, the way Michael looks at Alex as he's leaning against the door. People have started wars to have someone look at them like that. That's Greek epic shit right there.

Then cut shot to Max and Iz looking at Liz.

Alex expecting Michael to be gone from Roswell.

"Is that what you want" as Michael takes a step closer. Not "wanted", but "want".

"What I want doesn't matter" as they both slowly sway towards each other. Bullshit, Alex. What you want is ALL that matters. Fuck everything else.

Michael's eyes flicking up to Alex's face....

And Michael launches himself at Alex like a dying man.

God, how do you even describe that kiss?? Everything about it is just.......

But it's more than just the fire. Its the tenderness of Michael gently craddling Alexs' head even though the kiss is passionate and desperate.

Battery break

And then, back to reality - Iz knows that Max has told Liz.

And then Jess Fucking Manes (I fututus et mori in ignie cunne) (don't look that up it's very bad swearing) talking about being monsters who despise compassion and love. Projecting much.

"Thrive on our tragedy". Die MF Die

Despise Love over a visual of Michael and Alex. Die some more you MF

But you haven't told Liz everything have you Max. There's still some stuff you're hiding.

"When the truth hunts you down"

Yeah, that truth is going to hunt you down and fuck you up Max

My house just wobbled.

No, there isn't a secret that is safe.

And people will be caught in the crossfire - have already.

"What's lost will be found, when the truth hunts you down."

Well doesn't that one line sum up a ton of shit that goes down in the rest of the season.

And fin

3 hrs

That was not what I planned.

[thebuckybarnessoldier]

Thoughts on 8x05

I never thought my first Tumblr post in like 200 years would be about Game of Thrones of all shows, but here I am. I just have so many thoughts about this episode that I have been marinading in over the last day and I need to express them ughhh.

1. I saw this suggestion on Reddit and tbh I 100% agree with it - Davos should have been the one running through King’s Landing instead of Arya. At the very least, if they so badly wanted to set up Arya to kill Daenerys, have Davos encounter her, then get split up again and then focus on her. It creates more suspense to have Ser “I’ve never been much of a fighter” Davos in there, rather than Arya, who - let’s face it - has pretty much been guaranteed to survive, if ever there was such a thing in this show. And Davos was from Flea Bottom, can you imagine the emotional impact? (Also Liam Cunningham would have some good material to show his acting chops for the first time in seasons)

2. Speaking of emotional impact...Daenerys has never ever expressed any kind of emotional connection to the Red Keep? I’m not gonna discuss whether or not she should have become mad at all, because honestly it seems like their minds were completely set on it. But even so it could’ve and should’ve been done better. The way it was done was so RANDOM. If I recall, Daenerys has never held any sentiment towards the Red Keep or the fact that it was built by her ancestors. Why would seeing it be her trigger? (PS...D&D...if you had to tell us that reasoning in the aftershow...you didn’t do ya damn job. Show don’t tell????? Aka the first lesson of Writing 101?????) It would’ve made far more sense for Rhaegal to have been just injured at Dragonstone, then died at KL. Then Daenerys could have snapped at the sight of her child’s body, rather than the Red Keep.

3. Or even better, flesh out her entire “descent” a bit more. When she’s locked in her room after Missandei dies, show that. There’s a great still going around of her in that no makeup, dark circles and totally haggard state. I think the photo is brilliant, Emilia really gets across that this is a very shattered Dany, but how much time did it get in the show? A few seconds? Emilia did such a great job in the scene while the bells were ringing, they should’ve given her a similar scene alone in her room, and let Emilia do what she does and portray that Dany might actually cross some serious lines.

Maybe don’t have her burn all of King’s Landing the day of the battle. Maybe she just goes for the Red Keep - killing Cersei and all her human shields. Maybe even a little spillover into the streets. Something that was, technically, planned for, but dark enough to kickstart their Mad Queen thing and cause turmoil for Jon, Tyrion et al. Then, in the aftermath, amongst her remaining advisors or even walking through the city streets, show Dany’s increasing paranoia like in the dining hall scene of 8x04. Have her grow increasingly suspicious of rebellions. Then she still enacts the writers’ whole Mad Queen burning down KL plot, but so much less random and rushed. And yes, it WAS rushed. Being ruthless towards her enemies and acknowledging she acknowledging she could have to take cities with fire and blood during war, IS NOT the same as violating a surrender and killing hundreds of thousands of innocent people who wouldn’t be able to do a thing against her. It’s like she went from being a bit fond of tequila, to getting meth-ed up on the daily, within the space of 1 week.

4. “It’s supposed to be random and rushed!” they cry. “That’s the point! There’s no logic to her madness, that’s what makes it mad!” NAH. Big nope. I can’t remember if it was discussed in the show, but my understanding was that not even the Mad King just woke up and snapped one day. He started out as a decent enough king, but grew increasingly paranoid and fearful. And since everyone is justifying Dany’s madness by saying “her father was mad too! It’s in her genes!” then I think at least do a similar arc. In fact Dany’s madness would still be pretty rushed compared to Aerys, who was commonly known as mad for years but was still kinda tolerated until burning-the-Starks-alive happened.

5. Jaime. Fricking. Lannister. What a mess. What a mess. Back when I first started watching GoT, one of the first interviews I watched had of one of the show runners or writers or someone (it was years ago okay I’m sorry I can’t remember) was asked why they thought people liked the show so much. Their answer went along the lines of: “Westeros is a world undergoing huge changes and upheaval, a bit like our own world, and I think people l really relate to that.” Ok, so the place Westeros isn’t the same as the characters living in it, but come on - you’re really gonna undercut your own self-professed basis of the show by having a hugely redeemed character suddenly regress to what he was in the beginning? You really did that? For what? Shock value? To be edgy edgelords? Jamie just spent 8x04 talking down Bronn from killing him on Cersei’s orders. He’s really gonna have no problem with that? I get that they want their show to be “not like other shows”. But at the end of the day, it IS a show, they are telling a story. And Jaime’s choice did not fit in narratively.

[suddensouthparkaddiction]

Just a Little More: Extended

Just an extension to the original “Just a Little More One-Shot, which can be found here: 

https://suddensouthparkaddiction.tumblr.com/post/170201663629/just-a-little-more

“God damn.” Tweek said out loud as he fell to the floor in agony. His little stomach was a bit distended from all the great food the Black’s had made for dinner. He hadn’t eaten like that since the last time they stayed at Token’s house. He looked at Token and smiled. “Your mom is the best fucking cook, man.” He said with a grin.

Laughing, Jimmy moved to sit in the large, fluffy recliner Token had set up in front of the TV. He placed his crutches right next to him so they were leaning up against the chair. “Y-y-y-Yeah Token.” He said earnestly, “B-b-but I wouldn’t take it from the m-m-meth head. Take it from someone on th-th-the straight and n-n-n-n-narrow.” He joked about Tweek’s meth addiction. It was getting worse the older he got. His teeth were fine, somehow, but he’d started developing little sores along his arms, face, chest, and neck. Craig was trying to be helpful by attempting to wean him off his parents’ coffee and onto a different, less drugged coffee. It was pretty bad that almost every time Craig gave Tweek a blowjob, he would get a contact high.

Token laughed softly and nodded his head, “Well you guys, I’m glad you like her food.” He began to look around to find the room lacking his best friend, Clyde. He frowned a bit. Maybe he went to take a piss? Hopefully he wouldn’t get lost. Sometimes Token got lost in his own house, not that Token would admit to it.

*~*~*~*

Clyde was quick to flush the toilet and wash his face in the sink. He rinsed his mouth with mouthwash to rid himself of the smell of puke. He always kept all of these things in a backpack that he carried with him everywhere. He had to be prepared for any scenario. He stepped out of the bathroom and walked down the endless miles of hallways, looking at the expensive portraits on the walls and amazing art. He always loved how beautifully Token’s house was decorated. He always made his trips to and from the bathroom extra-long to enjoy the environment. He made it to Token’s room just in time to see Craig had the newest Xbox live up and running. It monitored your moves and he was playing some first-person shooter game.

“Welcome back.” Craig said in his deep, nasally tone, without looking away from the game.

“Thanks.” Clyde said as he set his backpack down and joined the group on the floor. He looked back at Token and smiled, “This is the new one, right?” Asking about the new Xbox live game. He didn’t know much about all the new technologies and shit but rest assured, Token did.

“Yeah dude, it’s got a sensor that monitors movement and can basically tell what you’re trying to do.” Token smiled. He scooted up to Clyde, placing a hand on his back. “You can have a turn after Craig dies, if you want.” He turned his attention to a Nazi zombie falling face first into the screen. It was dead but the graphics were crazy. It almost looked real. He turned back to look at Clyde, noticing a little bit of leftover food and some other weird substance on Clyde’s shirt. “Dude, you got stuff on your front.” He said. He pointed to what he thought was food. “Do you want a new shirt? I can have this one thrown in the wash.” He offered.

Clyde looked down in a panic. Fuck.. “Ah shit. Yeah, that would be great. Thanks.” He said as calmly as he could. He stood up and walked over to his backpack, pulling his shirt over his head and off.

As a few more zombies fell to the ground, Craig chuckled, “Go figure Clyde would have food and stuff on his shirt.” He teased in his drone tenor, but still not peeling his eyes from the screen.

Clyde furrowed his eyebrows but did not retort as he rolled up the shirt in a ball. He didn’t want to give away that it was vomit so he just shoved the shirt into his backpack. “I’ll just clean it at my house.” He said as he turned around to face Token. He crossed his arms uncomfortably around his stomach.

Eyes twitching, Tweek watched Clyde place his dirty shirt inside the backpack. His hands immediately went up to his hair. His Band-Aid covered fingers were colorful against the light locks that covered Tweek’s head. “Clyde! No!” He said, standing up to go grab Clyde’s hands. “If you leave that in there, it’ll contaminate the rest of your stuff, man!” He said erratically. “I don’t want your clothes to be contaminated. I’ll clean your shirt for you and everything else you have in your bag. Please?” He practically begged.

Clyde shook his head, “No, dude, it’ll be fine!” He defended his poor backpack.

“Just let him clean your shit, Donovan.” Craig piped up, once again, never losing focus from his game.

Clyde stood in front of his backpack and held up his arms. “You know what? It’s totally fine. It’s nothing. I-I’ll take it home and wash it right now.” He said quickly as he grabbed his backpack and threw the straps over his bare shoulders.

“No, man, that’s stupid. Just let me clean it here.” Tweek reached for the backpack, grabbing onto the straps. He looked Clyde up and down. He seemed super skinny with his shirt off. Was he always like that? “Besides, its fucking cold outside and you’ll freeze to death without a shirt on.” Tweek places his hands to Clyde’s arms.

Token watched Tweek and Clyde and nodded in agreement with Tweek. “Yeah, I have a washer and dryer here, C. Just clean it now.” He chuckled. “Besides, free maid service from the cleanest person in the house.”

Clyde frowned as he tried to pull away from Tweek as he tugged on his backpack. “No, dude, stop! Please!” He said pulling away again. Craig finally looked over at the commotion and his character was immediately attacked by a zombie and died. “Ah, what the fuck?” He mumbled before putting the game controllers in Jimmy’s hands and taking a few strides across the room to zip open the backpack that Clyde was trying so heavily to protect. He reached in and grabbed the shirt before Clyde even had the opportunity to realize what was happening. Craig frowned. “This smells like fucking puke, man.” He said as he looked at Clyde.

“I-I, uh, I got….sick.” Clyde fibbed, blinking heavily through the lie.

Tweek reached for the shirt and frowned at Clyde. “Ngh! Was it the food, man? Did you feel okay before?” He asked. He was going to make sure he washed the shirt really well. “Give me your backpack. I’ll clean everything in it.”

“Clyde, if you’re not feeling well, it’s okay if you would rather be home.” Token said as he watched everyone. “I mean, if you’re sick you should be resting.” He said in attempts to comfort his friend.

Jimmy hadn’t started his game because he was watching all the commotion between everyone. “H-h-have you been sick for a wh-while, Clyde?” He asked. “N-n-n-not to be rude but you smell like throw-up a-al-al...sometimes.”

Clyde looked between his tight circle of friends and felt tears stinging the back of his eyes. He willed himself not to fucking cry. Like always, he was the token cry baby. “Just a l-little while…” He lied again.

Craig jerked the backpack around so Clyde would be facing everyone. “Don’t lie to us, Clyde. You stutter when you fucking lie.” Craig said accusingly.

Tears welled up in Clyde’s eyes and betrayed him as they started running down his face. “I’m fine. Really. Go back to your game, guys. I’m j-just going to go home.”

Craig furrowed his brows, holding onto Clyde’s arms tightly, “Tweek, take everything out and wash it. He isn’t fucking sick.” Craig said with the sudden realization of what was going on. He forced the backpack from Clyde’s shoulders and held it out for Tweek to take it.

Nodding his head, Tweek grabbed the backpack from Craig. He shoved the puke covered shirt back in and began to head out of Token’s bedroom to go wash all the clothing his friend had brought with him. He looked at Craig then to Clyde and gave a small smile. “We just worry about you, Clyde. You’re our friend, man.” He said softly before shutting the door behind him.

Jimmy grabbed his crutches from the side of the chair and used them to stand. He made his way over to Craig with a worried expression over his face. “Is this why y-y-you’ve lost so much weight this year?” He asked. Jimmy tried to keep his tone as even as possible.

Token came up as well. He looked at Craig, silently asking him to remove his hands from Clyde’s arms. Craig got the message and released his hold on Clyde. Token immediately wrapped his arms around his half naked friend. “Dude, you can tell us anything. We aren’t going to make fun of you. I promise.” He shot a quick glance up to Craig. “Right, dude?”

“Yeah, that’s right.” Craig nodded in agreement as he crossed his arms over his broad chest. He took a step back and looked over Clyde, at least as much as he could from what Token covered and shook his head. “You are skinny as fuck dude. You wear baggy clothes on purpose.” He said with sigh.

“I’m not that skinny. I just need to lose a little more.”

“Nah, fuck that. You’ve lost enough.” Craig shook his head.

Clyde felt tears running down his face and he sniffled. “No I haven’t!” He cried and buried he face into Token’s purple shirt.

Jimmy shook his head, “D-d-Dude, you’ve lost more than enough.” He said. “You’re like a f-f-fucking skel-skeleton. We can see your rib cage and shit.”

Pulling away to peer into his friend s eyes, Token’s own golden brown ones looked sad. “When did it start, Clyde?” He asked softly. “Let’s talk about it.”

Clyde sniffled again and nodded. “I, um, wanted to look like everyone else.” He began softly.

Silently moving closer to the two boys, Craig took Clyde’s arm and with the other hand, gripped onto Token’s shirt and moved them together to Token’s bed. The two teens sat down. He left the two there, although still listening, and moved to his and Tweek’s shared duffel bag to get his package of menthol cigarettes. He closed his eyes as he packed his cigarettes into the palm of his hand and moved towards the bay windows at the far end of Token’s room. He unlocked the window and pushed it open. He was quick to light the cigarette and take in a long inhale of the cancer.

Tears kept falling from Clyde’s eyes. Every time he tried to dry them, they just poured more heavily down his cheeks. “I guess it started almost two years ago,” He paused, thinking. “I don’t really remember when. I know it was just the summer before our freshman year.” He sniffled.

Tweek slowly let himself back into the bedroom. He was holding his button up shirt out so he could carry some of the miscellaneous items he found in Clyde’s bag: his new toothbrush, toothpaste, a Nintendo Switch, and car keys. He moved to set these items on Token’s dresser and he looked between everyone. “I cleaned them off the best that I could.” He said gently. He looked to see that Craig was at the window, smoking, and he shuffled his feet to go meet his boyfriend. He reached for the cigarette, plucking it out of Craig’s lips and placing it to his own. He took in a drag, inhaled the menthe, and the handed the cigarette back to Craig. Tweek held the smoke in his lungs as long as he possibly could before letting it all come out.

Nodding, Token listened to Clyde. He was a bit taken aback that this all started happening almost two years ago. “Dude, it’s okay.” He said softly. “No one is here to judge you in anyway. We’re your friends. We love you.”

Jimmy nodded his head, moving one arm forward to lean against his crutch. “Y-y-Yeah, Clyde. We got your b-b-back.”

Continuing to cry, Clyde looked to Tweek. “T-Thanks Tweek, you didn’t have to…” He said between sobs against Token’s firm chest. “I l-love you guys too. I just wanted to be like e-everyone else.” He said with tears running down his face. He sniffled. “I wanted Bebe to keep liking me and I didn’t want people to make fun of me anymore.”

Craig let out a frustrated sigh. “Yeah? Well, now people are going to make fun of you for being bulimic.” He said with a monotone, nasally voice. It came out a lot harsher than he meant it too and it made Clyde sob.

“Babe, that sounded really mean.” Tweek looked up at Craig. He placed a hand up to his taller boyfriend’s shoulder and rubbed it. “Go hug him and apologize.”

Golden eyes watched Clyde. Token rubbed his friend’s thigh with one hand and wiped his tears with the other. He reached across his bed to his nightstand and pulled out a box of tissues. “Here, Clyde.” Token’s voice was always so soft even when he was upset. Token was the epitome of cool in all situations. “Blow your nose and then maybe we can settle down and get some snacks in you.” He smiled softly. “But before we do this, I want you to promise you’ll stop. I liked thicker Clyde anyway.” He chuckled. “You look good with a little meat.”

Craig sighed and looked to Tweek with a hint of disdain. He nodded, though, and handed his cigarette to Tweek who, instinctively, placed the cancer stick in his mouth. Craig walked over to Clyde and literally fell on him, crumpling Clyde’s small body under his large one for a second or two, wrapped his warm, tan arms around the smaller boy. He suddenly realized how frail and meager Clyde seemed under his large body. He frowned and held the small teen under him. “I’m sorry, Clyde. I’m just frustrated and worried.” His voice had grown soft. He lifted himself off of Clyde and the bed, carrying his broad shoulders high and he made his way back to the window. He grabbed the cigarette from Tweek’s lips and flicked the ashes of the end of the stick. “I agree with Token. You don’t have to go back to being chubby, but dude, just go to the gym with me. Or Token. He goes to the gym. Start working out and no more puking.” He said as he turned to look back at his friends with dark, midnight blue eyes. They were full of worry. His eyes then led back to Tweek. “Better?” He asked Tweek quietly.

Standing on his tip toes to give a small kiss to Craig’s cheek, Tweek smiled. “Much better, thank you.” He said gently, placing his hands to Craig’s arm to hold onto it.

Clyde nodded and looked between Craig and then back at Token. “Yeah… okay.” He said, promising as best as he could. The blush he had across his face when Craig flopped on him still prevalent on his cheeks. He always thought Craig was super fucking cool so it was pretty badass that his friend just flopped on him the way he did. He looked back at Token, smiling half-heartedly. “Would you be okay with that, Token? If I joined you at the gym?” Clyde knew the other teen was pretty well built, even for a sophomore in high school. Craig could already pass as a senior for his size and the way he carried himself. Token looked older too. He wanted to be cool like that.

Enthusiasm spread over Token’s face. “I’d love if you joined me, Clyde.” He grinned broadly. “Best thing is: we have a gym here in the house. You can work out here with me and no one will pass any judgments.” He looked around and grinned. “Hell, all you guys can work out here with me if you wanted. It’ll be fun.”

Jimmy grinned broadly, his braces showing in full scale. “That’ll be g-g-great, Token!”

Tweek smiled at the guys all clamoring about how they were going to work out together. Tweek felt a little jealous. “I think that sounds great, man. It’ll be a great way for you guys to get even closer!”

“Tweek, you can work out with us too, ya know. It doesn’t have to be just us.” Clyde smiled widely, his eyes still red and puffy but he was finally no longer crying.

Craig smiled down and placed his large free hand over Tweek’s cold ones. “Yeah, honey. Working out is supposed to help with anxiety.” He said as he took one last inhale from his cigarette and then smashed it into the ashtray that Token kept on the window sill just for him.

Tweek smiled at his friends and boyfriend but quickly shook his head. “I had to negotiate a way to get to come here tonight.” He said softly. “My parents will flip if I try to deviate from my work schedule too much.” He told everyone. “But that’s okay, you guys have fun.” He smiled. He legitimately didn’t intend to turn the conversation toward him so he tried to turn it back to Clyde. “So, uh, this video game is pretty badass, right Craig?”

Craig nodded and moved to find the controller still in the chair where Jimmy once sat. He wiggled the analog sticks to get the screen to brighten up. “Alright dude.” Craig said in his nasally voice. He turned around and lifted the controller up. “Who’s next? Clyde? Token?” He asked as he handed the controller over to whoever would take it.

[surveysonfleek]

593.

Have you ever had feelings for 2 people at the same time?
 maybe not real ‘feelings’, but i’ve had a crush on two people at the same time.

Do you believe that leaving a significant other for someone else is ever a good idea? only if you’re 100% sure about your decisions and won’t have any regrets.

Is it possible to ‘fix’ a ‘broken’ relationship?
 yes, if both parties are putting in equal effort to make it work.

Would you ever throw out/give away something an ex gave you?
 if it has no value to me, then yeah.

Why do you think people believe in love at first sight?
 idk. it’s just a thing i guess.

If you found someone seemingly perfect for you, but it turned out they had a child… would you still give the relationship a chance?
 yeah, i guess.

Is it possible to ‘fall out of love’?
 yes.

Why do you think people choose to get married?
 i have no idea. just a way of life.

Why do you think people are against same-sex marriage?
 because to some it’s against their religion. for the ones that are just against it, i have no idea. people are just hateful.

How long have you had the shirt you’re wearing?
 nearly a year.

Are you a slut?
 no.

What happened last time you got drunk?
 i had to pee a lot and i was super loud.

Have you ever thrown up from drinking?
 yep.

Last thing you said out loud?
 thank you.

Do you find piercings attractive?
 not personally.

What’s your favourite number?
 7.

How many cigarettes have you smoked today?
 one.

What languages can you count to ten or higher in?
 three i think.

Have you gone through a lot emotionally, or has life been easy thus far?
 i’ve gone through a lot. nothing in recent years though.

Ever got suspended from school?
 nope.

What would you do with a $10 bill you found on the ground?
 keep it, duh.

Do you prefer the tanning bed or the sun?
 the sun. i hardly ever go out tanning though.

What were you doing at 3AM last night?
   lying in bed.

Are you ticklish?
 yes.

Want to be taller or shorter?
 a tiny bit taller.

Biggest annoyance in your life right now?
 work.

Who is the first person you see in the mornings?   my sister.

Do you like being called babe?
 nah.

Is the last person you kissed more than 2 years older than you?
 no.

Do you think anyone has feelings for you? 
 yes.

Do you talk about your feelings or hide them?
 i’m sorta in between.

Do you know anyone that smokes weed?
 yes.

Did anyone see you kiss that last person you kissed?
 nope.

Are you a jealous person?
 no.

Have you ever fallen asleep with the last person that kissed you?
   yes.

Is there someone that makes you happy every time you see them?
 yes.

Honestly if you could go back 9 months and change something, would you?
 yes.

When is the next time you will kiss someone?
 tonight.

Are you wasting your time on someone?
 i hope not.

Who was the last person you were in love with for more than a year?
 my boyfriend.

Were you happier 7 months ago or now?
 7 months ago.

Have you ever liked one of your best friends of the opposite sex?
 yes.

Do you regret anything that you’ve said today?
 no.

Do you have a secret life?
 no.

Is there anyone you can tell EVERY THING to?
 my boyfriend.

Do you ever get a text from someone that you don’t want a text from, and yell at your phone because your angry?
 haha no.

So, the last person you kissed just happens to arrive at your door at 3AM, what do you do?
 let them in.

Have you ever liked someone who your friends HATED?
 nope.

Have you ever seen the last person you kissed without a shirt?
 yes.

Have you held hands with somebody in the past three days?
   yes.

Do your parents know EVERYTHING about you?
 haha definitely not.

Have you ever just felt like you could cry an ocean?
 no.

Are you dating the last person you talked to?
 yes.

Would you live with someone without marrying them?
 yes.

Is there someone you’d like to fix things with?
 not really.

Are you friends with your best friend’s boyfriend or girlfriend?
 i haven’g gotten to know him properly tbh.

Who do you have texts from in your inbox? a ton of people. i never delete my texts.

What do you do when you have a bad day?
 have a nap.

Think back to the last person you held hands with, would you kiss them?
   yes.

Will you be seeing your ex any time soon?
 no.

Do you think the last person you kissed cares for you?
   yes.

Do you want someone you can’t have?
 no.

What did you realize today?
 i’m sleepy.

Is there a person from the past that you would like to talk to?
 possibly.

Do you regret letting someone walk out of your life?
 no.

Do you care if people hate you?
 only if i know them personally and used to be friends with them.

What time did you wake up today
? 9am.

Are you wearing jeans, shorts, sweatpants, or pajama pants? pjs.

Are you a different person now than you were 5 years ago?
 yes.

What were you doing at 4 am?
 sleeping.

Would you rather write a paper or give a speech?
 umm. it depends how long the speech needs to me.

What’s something you cannot wait for?
 my birthday.

How many hours of sleep did you get last night?
 maybe 3 hours. i’m going to have a nap soon.

Are you a morning or night person? night.

Do you reply to all of your texts?
 most of the time.

Favorite thing to eat with peanut butter?
 not a fan of peanut butter.

What were you doing before you got on the computer? running errands.

What are your initials?
 no.

Do you still talk to the person you liked 4 months ago?
 yes.

Have you had your birthday this year?
 not yet.

What did you do yesterday?
 work.

What will you be doing tomorrow?
 work.

Is it hard to make you laugh?
 nope.

Do you believe ex’s can be just friends?
 only if they were never in love. it’d be hard for me to be friends with someone i’d once loved.

How many people have you had feelings for in the year of 2013? one.

Have you ever dyed your hair?
 yes.

Was New Year’s Eve enjoyable?
 last year was kinda boring.

If you could move away, no questions asked, where would it be? san francisco.

What would you change about your life right now?
 a better job with great pay.

Today, would you rather go forward a week or back?
 forward.

Would you take $40,000 or a brand new car?
 money for sure.

Ever cried while you were on the phone with someone?
 yes.

Do you automatically check your phone when you wake up?
 yes.

Have you ever stayed up all night on the phone?
 yes.

Could you use some sleep right now?
 yessss.

Are you going to have a baby by the time you’re 18?
 i’m way over 18 with no kids.

Does it bother you when someone hides things from you?
 yes.

Have you ever slept in the same room with someone you liked?
 yes.

Do you have a person of the opposite sex that you can tell everything to?
 yes.

Is there someone who meant a lot to you at one point, and isn’t around anymore?
 yes.

Do you have somewhere you hide things you don’t want anyone else to find? not really.

Have you ever had your heart broken?   no.

How many languages do you know? two.

Do you have any piercings? ears and nose.

If you had to get a piercing right now, what would it be? i wouldn’t.

On a scale from one to ten, how happy are you? 6.

Have you ever cried uncontrollably on a friend’s shoulder before? no.

What were you doing 30 minutes ago? eating.

Do you enjoy Disney movies? yes.

Do you have a nervous habit? (e.g. biting nails, tapping feet, smoking) complaining. lol.

Have you ever had a girl best friend? yes.

Would you date a 13 year old at the age you are now? definitely not.

Whats your favorite type of flower? peonies.

Current favorite song? idk.

Are you happy with your given name? yes.

What’s a major fear or yours?   losing people i love.

Do you know anyone famous?   nope.

Do you own a Bible?   yes.

What color is your bedroom?   grey and turquoise.

Do you consider yourself to be a nice person? yes.

Have you ever pierced your own body part or that of someone else?   nope.

What did you eat for breakfast today? sushi lol.

What’s the temperature outside? hot. like 28 degrees.

Will you go to college a virgin? i did lol.

Do you keep jewelry or small items in cute little boxes? no, they’re just in a big jewellery box.

What was the worst job you’ve had? Why was it so bad? none have been that bad, but i could find something to complain about in each job i had.

Do you wish you had naturally rosy cheeks? no.

What is one drug you have no interest in trying? meth, ice, crack etc.

What do you wanna be when you grow up? successful and happy.

Do you have a crush on anyone? more than a crush.

Do you get along better with men or women? depends on the individual.

Purple or chartreuse? purp.

Aliens or ghosts? aliens.

Favorite alcoholic drink? cocktails in general.

Favorite store? none in particular.

Favorite animal? panda.

Who do you love the most in the whole wide world? my family and boyfriend.

[septirapdork]

Fic: We Should Be Together Tonight

It was just a normal evening in America. It rained heavily and you could hear the waterdrops hit the roof. Jack sat in his chair - he had moved in a few months ago - and stared at his computer monitor intensely. He had just finished a new video, but so mething felt off. It was some new scary game with ghosts and zombies, stuff like that, but still - something about it made him cringe, and not in the good kind of way. It just felt like filming a scary video with all the rain outside was a bit of a cliché. After some thinking he sighed and closed the  recording program - Robin would have to edit it tomorrow, so Jack had to wake up pretty early the next day to send the unedited video to him.

“Eh, damn it”, Jack shrugged and decided to go to sleep after washing his face and teeth. He and Signe had broken up before Jack had moved to the USA, because of the distance - unfortunately. The man was just about to hop in bed, when someone rang his doorbell. “Who the heck?” he murmured and walked to the door, opening it with a puzzled look on his face. “Arin?”

“Hi Jack”, the all-wet man answered. “I- Can I, well… Can I sleep here tonight?”

“You drove all the way to Santa Barbara?” Jack was clearly surprised. “Why didn’t you stay at Dan and Barry’s place? Or… home?”

“I need to talk to you”, Arin seemed flustered when he came inside and put his jacket away, next to Jack’s own. “Something happened at home.”

Jack immediately started to look for a place for Arin to sleep, but then remembered he hadn’t taken any mattresses with him from Brighton.’

“Fuck”, he scratched his head, “I don’t have anywhere for you to sleep in.”

“I can sleep next to you”, Arin seemed very depressed, which made Jack question everything. From all the people in the world, being depressed was not something Arin was very often. That made Jack say yes.

“Okay. But only if you tell me what’s going on.” He was very serious and got Arin to wipe his right eye.

“Shit, dry eyes”, Arin tried to laugh a bit and went to sit on the couch. Jack followed him and sat right next to him.

“Tell me what happened”, he said quietly.  “What is wrong at home?” Arin went silent and looked at his toes like they were the most interesting thing in the world.

“We broke up.”

“What?”

“Me and Suzy. We broke up.”

Jack was so surprised he didn’t know what to say at all. What the heck? They were the perfect couple!

“We had this coming”, Arin continued after some awkward silence. “We tried to make it work many times, but this time… It just didn’t work anymore, you know? Everything was different. Silent and made us both feel bad. I still love her and she still loves me, though, that’s the reason we’re doing this.” There were tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Oh no”, Jack almost cried himself. “I’m so sorry, buddy.” They hugged for a long time and Jack tried to come up with something to say. “So what will you do now?”

“I dunno. I will probably stay at Brent’s for a while.”

“You can stay here too”, Jack made a proposition. “I live closer to the Grump Studio than Brent. It would be easier for you.”

“Thank you so much man”, Arin hugged him again. “You’re an actual Irish angel.” Jack smiled for the first time in days - stress had taken the best of him and had made him a bit sad.

“Love you, bro”, Jack said while yawning. “Should we go to sleep? You can pour out anything bad you have in mind in bed.”

“This is so straight”, Arin cracked up a joke and made his blue-haired friend laugh.

They lied next to each other in silence. After a while, Arin started opening up and just stared at the ceiling.

“I don’t think me and Suzy can see each other in a while. You know, I need some kind of a… a distraction. Or something. She always hangs out at the studio, what will I do? I can’t let the lovelies down.”

“Take your time, buddy”, Jack looked at him. “I’m sure people will understand. And besides, you guys have a lot of material pre-recorded. Just, like, put out two episodes instead of three per day. I am very sure that the lovelies can live with that for a while.”

“You’re right. Thanks, Seán.”

“Since when have you called me that?” he smiled widely and made Arin question himself. It took a while for him to answer.

“Since now”, Arin smiled back at Jack. They stared at each other for a minute or two, before Arin changed sides. “Goodnight, potato boy.”

“Night, American.”

“Is that really the best you got?” Arin chuckled.

“… Yes.”

Jack woke up at the middle of the night after seeing a nightmare about his own breakup, Arin’s misfortune must’ve brought it up in his mind. He noticed that Arin had rollled over and slept now with his head on Jack’s shoulder. The other man swallowed and tried to lightly tap Arin on the forehead, making him come even closer.

“Oh man”, Jack muttered to himself. ‘Since when has Arin been that cute?’ he noticed to be thinking. Jack closed his eyes and listened to Arin’s sleepy breathing - it made him happy in a way no one had made him since the breakup. It was weird, they had been friends for a long time, but this was different. Very, very different.

“Sleepy…” Arin said in his sleep, very quietly and incoherently.

“Shh, you sleep now”, Jack got frightened that Arin would wake up so he started to pet his hair slightly. Soon he was in very deep sleep again. “That was close”, Jack muttered. He didn’t know what was wrong and it made him feel uneasy. It was like someone had stabbed him in the heart repeatedly - it was almost like he had a crush for the first time in months. It couldn’t be that, right? Right…? Jack closed his eyes and thought of Arin in a warm, cute kind of way. He would make him coffee every morning. Every time Arin would see a nightmare, he would wake Jack up and kiss him on the cheek, thanking of him being there for him. Jack opened his eyes and felt blood rush into his face. “This is not good”, he shaked his head, but only a bit, so Arin wouldn’t wake up. This was only the start.

In the morning Arin had woken up before Jack, so Jack woke up to the smell of coffee in the room.

“What the -” he looked around him, only to find no one in the room.

“Oh no, you woke up”, he heard Arin’s voice from the door. Jack’s eyes jolted to him.

Arin smiled and made the other man feel all fuzzy inside.

“It’s hard not to wake up when you have coffee in the room”, he laughed and sat up. “By the way, where is it?” “On your night desk”, Arin pointed his finger at Jack.

“Oops.”

“You did like coffee, right?”

“I sure do”, Jack took a gulp. “No coffee for you?”

“Nah, too much caffeine for my taste, at least at the moment. I have to get my stuff from my place - I mean Suzy’s place.” Arin looked a bit sad again, which made Jack sad. He didn’t want anybody to be sad, goddammit!

“Do you think you will be okay?” Jack asked when Arin sat next to him on the bed. He shrugged, but smiled afterwards and opened his mouth.

“I’m happy if you are here for me.”

“Oh man”, Jack blushed against his will. “I -”

“You are all red.”

“Dammit! I blush far too easily”, Jack buried his face to his hands. Arin just laughed and patted his friend on the back.

“I know man, it’s hard to take compliments. But you, my Irish angel, need those a lot. You’re like the best guy in the world for letting me stay in here.” Jack just waved his hand and made Arin grab it. His hand was soft and warm, and made crush-having Jack want to jump out of the window at the very moment.

“Oh please, Brent was an option too”, he tried to sound casual, but noticed how Arin started to almost giggle.

“If I wanted to be at Brent’s, I would’ve driven there last night. I knew I could count on you so I came here instead.” Jack was the one who was flustered now and didn’t know what the heck to think of all of this. “Really, tho, the European tour made us a lot closer, I think. I’m so glad you decided to move to the States.”

“Same here”, Jack noticed what he had just said. Same here? A few days ago the move had broken up his life. He had lost Signe, he had lost a few friends back in the UK, he had lost a lot of stuff. But if it meant a new beginning, then it was all okay.

The next evening they both slept in the same bed again. Jack tried to not think how close Arin had been last night, and how his heart started racing every time he thought about it. Arin just stared at the ceiling again and made Jack question his life choices.

“I love this room”, Arin said suddenly. “It’s a bit too cold at nights, though.” Jack almost gasped, but luckily was able to hold it back.

“I agree.”

“It’s good we both sleep here then”, Arin smiled and closed his eyes, before - wait a second, he didn’t roll over, but stayed on his back. Jack’s head was full of warning sirens. ‘Do not fall for him. Do. Not. Fall for him.’ The Irish one had always known he’s bisexual, he just hadn’t talked about it to pretty much anyone. Signe was the only one who knew about it and that was it.

“True. It’s warmer that way”, he tried really hard to sound casual.

“Jack, I need to tell you something.”

“I’m all ears”, Jack smiled and looked at Arin. “What do you want to tell me?” Arin clearly thought about it for a second before he started talking.

“I think I know why it… why it didn’t work out with Suzy. I have never told about this to anyone.”

“Tell me”, Jack waited eagerly for Arin to continue his story. He knew what he wanted to hear, but this was something so very different.

“For a long time, I… I had a crush on Dan.”

“What?” Jack was so confused at that moment. At the same time he was happy, and at the same time he was… angry. Angry at himself for not noticing anything earlier. Should he tell Arin his secret too?

“Yeah. I know I always made jokes about it, but eventually I noticed they weren’t jokes anymore. I think Suzy is an exception. Like, I have always had crushes on boys but I really fell for her.”

Jack really didn’t know what to say. He wanted to tell him, he really did, but was it okay now that Arin wanted to open up? For a small silent moment he thought about it, and made his decision.

“Arin, I’m bi.”

“Really?” Arin was clearly a bit shocked. “Since when have you known this?” Jack counted with his fingers.

“About since I was twelve. You are the second person to know about this. Please don’t tell anyone.”

“Have you ever kissed a boy?” Arin suddenly payed great interest to this new information he had heard. “I have.”

“I haven’t. I have only been with girls”, Jack scratched his head. Thank God it was dark in the room, because otherwise Arin would’ve seen how bright red Jack’s face was at the moment.

“I want to give you a reward for letting me stay here”, Arin bit his lip a bit. “If it’s okay?” Jack nodded but realized then it was too late to say no. He had no idea what Arin had in mind and he had just basically said yes. Slowly Arin crawled closer to him and kissed Jack on the cheek. “There.”

“You know what?” Jack smiled and was redder than ever. “Thank you.” Silence. “I really want to kiss you right now.”

“Same here.” Silence. A slow kiss that started sweetly, like the first kiss between a young couple. They started switching kisses more quickly and after that Arin pressed his forehead against Jack’s.

“I really like kissing you.”

The next day Jack was the one who woke up first. He noticed that Arin had wrapped his arm around his waist and had a steady hold of him. Jack had to smile. If he could help Arin to get over his ex-wife, he would do that. If he was just a bandaid, that was okay too. He just wanted to kiss him again.

“Good morning”, Jack said softly.

“That isn’t the way you usually say it”, Arin smirked after he had had a good yawn. “Normally you sound much more… enthusiastic.” Jack had to laugh a bit before answering.

“Please kiss me again”, Jack then said in a quiet voice. Arin sat up and smooched one of his best friends properly. “I could do that all day, you know.”

“I know”, he smiled like never before. “I think this new beginning isn’t so bad after all. I mean, I get to be with you. I’ve, eh, I’ve had a small crush on you since the European tour. I know I have to get over Suzy, but if you are there to help me do that… I think I will be just fine.” Jack knew he was doomed to have this crush for a long, long time. After all, he had had some part of it inside his soul for some time already - Jack just had needed this to happen to realize it was there. ‘Do not fall for him? Fuck that. I will fall for him so hard I’m gonna break every bone in my body’, Jack thought to himself and kissed Arin again, more softly than ever before. His lips were perfect to kiss. He felt this feeling of… belonging. It was the best feeling in a long time.

[askthedespairkids]

The Probability of Success

*Northern Kyushu. A metallic trapezoidal structure emerged from the middle of an otherwise uniform grassy plain. The entrance to a bunker*

A bunker… sure, that’ll help. *Maverick Storm approached the wall, and placed a device against it. He pushed a few buttons, then fled a ways back, covering his ears and waiting for the explosion.*

*The heavy metal doors flew off their hinges and into the long, empty stairwell leading into darkness. The explosion echoed both down the tunnel and across the empty plain. There was strangely no alarm in response nor warning in response to the breach.*

Hel-loooo… anybody home? *Maverick yelled into the darkness.* I brought cookies… admittedly they’re to eat after I blow your brains out, but I still brought them… *Maverick took out his keychain, clicking the button on the penguin flashlight he had attached to it and beginning to descend the stairs.*

*The tunnel seemed almost completely empty. Nothing but sheet metal walls. Not even empty shelves were left. There were, however, long cords running along the ceiling, leading down further into the darkness*

*Maverick hums, tapping on the wall as he does so, causing an echo to sound.* Oh, Hayase… come out come out wherever you are…

*At the end of the long hallway, a door slide open, letting out a bright glare of blue light*

Ah, bright, bright! *Maverick shields his eyes best he can, while still keeping an eye out for potential threats*

Umenko, over the intercom: Well, well, welly, well, look who it is. It’s the dick-meister, the master bastard, the certified soul-sucking son of a bitch himself! Maverick Storm! There was only an 56.7482% chance you’d be here today. Congratulations on beating the odds.

*Maverick bows, smirking as he does so* N'aww, I’m glad I could be here… mind showing your face so I can put a few holes in it? Let me see… so far I got Etsugo, Chikatilo, Asari, Hirotada, and Reizo… I took a lesson from Nakamura and started getting tattoos… You think I should include the triplets on there as well? I mean, I didn’t get to kill them personally, which sucked, but they still died…

Umenko: Maverick, why are you telling me things I already know? I told you, I can see the future. I’m took the liberty of planning ahead, so now I’m afraid there are only 452 ways this meeting is going to end.

Maverick: That few? *he whistles* How many of them end with you with a bullet in your brain?

Umenko: Only 13, surprisingly. I was expecting at least 67 or 68. But anyway, if you want to see me that badly, just step through the doorway. Trust me, it won’t teleport you to antarctica or anything.

*Maverick wanders through, not seeming wary at all*

*The room at the other end of the corridor was a large dome-shaped chamber lined with blue lights. Hanging from the ceiling was a large cylindrical device, which all the wires in the corridor lead to. Beneath it was a short, orange-haired girl in brown a vest, with a cybernetic implant attached to her right temple. Umenko Hayase, the Ultimate Quantum Physicist* Umenko: Welcome…*TO MY LAIR*. It’s cool, isn’t it? I think it is.

Maverick: Fancy. *He shoots one of the wires connected to the machine*

Umenko: Meh, I didn’t need that one anyway.

Maverick: What about this one? Or this one? This one? *he begins shooting wires at random*

Umenko: You know, if you keep doing that, you’re just gonna end up blowing us both up. That’s 78.92385% certain.

Maverick: Oh. All right then. *he shoots one more, but then stops, choosing to reload his revolver*

Umenko: Anyway, let’s not beat around the bush. I know I have a bad habit of doing that, right? Right, you don’t have to tell me. You want me dead, don’t you? That’s it, isn’t it? You wouldn’t have brought a gun if that wasn’t the case. Unless you wanted to sell it to me and are planning to live a live of peace and happiness while I take all the blame and get sent to debter’s prison! Oh wait, do those even exist anymore? *She went on rambling for several minutes*

*Maverick actually seems to be actively listening to her, then once she’s done* So… you mind if I ask a few questions before killing you?

Umenko: Huh? Oh, yeah, sure, what’s up. *She doesn’t seem at all concerned*

Maverick: First off… will my goal of taking over the Ultimate Despair movement succeed?

Umenko: Oooooh, you want me to give you details about the future, is that it? Well…let’s see…out of 11,756,833 possible outcomes concerning the battle with Ultimate Despair, you succeed in about…107 of them. Although it depends on what you mean by succeed. Do you consider being the last human on this Earth a success? Like literally an Omega man, last survivor, everyone else is dust in the wind kinda thing.

Maverick: No… that wouldn’t be any fun…

Umenko: Oh, okay, then it’s just 92 chances for success.

Maverick: Hey, better than none. Next question… Is Enoshima telling the truth about this? *he shows her a photo with a message attached*

Umenko: Hmm? Who’s that girl?

Maverick: I wish I knew.

Umenko: Sorry, can’t say much about people I don’t know. But I can say there’s a 54.8711% chance she’s not lying.

Maverick: Right… *a dark look appears on his face* Tell me, Hayase… did you see this coming? *he raises his pistol and fires*

*Umenko disappears in a flash of light and reappears a few feet away* Considering it’s you, 100%. Also, I invented teleportation, motherfucker!

Maverick: I was counting on that. It’ll be useful when I get my hands on it… *he fires again*

Umenko: *She teleports again, this time on a console a few feet off the ground* You know, speaking of mothers, there’s a 95.4476% chance your mother drank when she was pregnant with you.

Maverick: Eh, I wouldn’t be too surprised. After all, my grandfather was a bit of a douche… couldn’t keep his belt on, whether he wanted to hit his kids or find a new person to screw…

Umenko: There’s also a 96.981% chance your mother was a dirty slut who sucked just about every kind of dick for meth. Or was it crack?\

Maverick: I see your strategy, Hayase. It’s not going to work.

Umenko: It doesn’t make you want to kill me more? I mean, more than you already do?

Maverick: Well, it does, but I’m not gonna get cocky and stupid about it…

Umenko: Pff-ha! You’re only doing this cause you’re cocky and stupid.  Do you really think a pansy-ass punk like you can kill all of us? Even when I told you your chances of success are literally below 1%

Maverick: Oh, I know the odds are low. But, you see, it wouldn’t be entertaining if I just sat on my ass and plotted around on how to kill Enoshima all day. I mean, I’ve got something else I’m managing… but so far, my success rate is five out of six, not counting you, so I’d say I’m doing fairly good… really, I have a feeling Nakamura’s gonna be the only significant challenge…

Umenko: Well now I just feel insulted. I mean, after all, I already beat you.

Maverick: Oh? How?

*She teleports back beside him* Umenko: Don’t think you got in my bunker without my permission. No, no. I let you in here. Why, you might be asking? Well, that’s an easy answer. Shoot me and you’ll find out.

Maverick: Let me guess… you rigged the place to blow, didn’t you?

Umenko: Of course not. Explosives were Chikatilo’s specialty, not mine. You came here to do it, so why not just do it?

Maverick: Well, if you’d stand still…

Umenko: *strikes an exaggerated pose, but remains still*

Maverick: *shoots her in the knee, choosing not to kill her… yet.*

*The bullet passes through Umeko’s leg unimpeded and ricochets off the floor as her entire body shimmers and distorts* Surprise! I’m not even really here.

Maverick: Clever. Very clever.

Umenko: Yep. The Umenko Hayase you see before you is just a hologram. I left this bunker days ago.

Maverick: Can’t say I blame you… I meant for this to be a question I asked when I had you down on the ground and the pistol to your temple, but instead I’ll just ask now… who, exactly, do you think will kill me?

Umenko: Well, I guess I could tell you…but that would ruin the surprise, now wouldn’t it? Nobody likes spoilers.

Maverick: Hmm, true enough. It’s been fun, Hayase. Can’t wait to find you in real life. *he turns to leave, but then turns around again*  Is the teleportation just the hologram moving from place to place, then?

Umenko: See, with the despair that’s been going on, I decided to spend some time down here looking through alternate universes. I’m sick of being caught up in this world and its people, tired of being caught up in the tangle of their lives, so I left for one less complicated. And I love it here.

Maverick: An alternate universe? Huh… well, I suppose I can’t get you there… but that works out well for me. Maybe not the best case scenario, but it still works.

Umenko: That big machine back there? That was my teleporter. It opened the rift between two words, and you shooting the wires guaranteed it would remain closed. So thank you! You’re probably never gonna see me again after this. Anything you want to say?

Maverick: Nah, not really. Other than enjoy your life… and if you find another version of me, please make them end up in an awful “accident”. I like being unique.

Umenko: I will enjoy my life. You wanna know why?

Maverick: All right, I’ll humor you.

Umenko: Because I found a girl who loves me. One who appreciates me for who I am. You remember all those times you said I’d be alone forever? How you were apparently the only person who could accept me for who I am? Well, I proved you wrong. And I’m going to spend the rest of my life with her. Hugging her, kissing her, making love to her, marrying her, all where you’ll never find us. So remember that, Maverick. Remember that, even if you do manage to succeed in your questionable quest, I still beat you. I’m going to live a happy life far away from you.

Maverick: Heh. You’re luckier than Takei, Hayase. You ever thought of taking up writing? Because I think there’s a wonderful story to be told around here… *his voice sounds sincere, no mocking tone present at all* Who knows, since you won’t know the ending, you can make one yourself. *He persists with the sincerity* I do wish you luck.

Umenko: Well…thank you. You’re oddly sentimental about all this, but thank you.

Maverick: Well, Umenko, you’ve just made my job easier. After all… *the kind, sentimental tone of voice drops, replaced by the usual nasty edge.* you left our universe for that one on your own, didn’t you? You didn’t take anyone else with you. You didn’t offer anyone else an escape.  You could have saved quite a few people… Remember that when you’re spending time with this girl you love so much.

Umenko: Well, I was stuck in this bunker, alone, for weeks. With barely enough power for me to get across. It wouldn’t have mattered even I did bring everyone over. But it doesn’t matter. Do you wanna know why?

Maverick: Hmm?

Umenko: *her face darkens as her cheery tone changes to a much more sinister one* The odds of one of them beating your ass are 99.99981%. Compare that for your odds of success and see which one seems more likely. *Suddenly cheery again* Anyway, gotta go. Bye! *her holographic image fades away*

Maverick: Well, I might as well add her to my tattoo list… not as if anyone will know any differently. *his face darkens* Now, I need to resolve the issue of these pictures… and I think I know who to turn to.

[flightandsurvival]

What’s the first thing you do when you wake up, usually? Groan and stay in bed until my dog gets out of bed and signals me to let him out. 

Do you like to keep a routine or do you prefer spontaneousness? I’m super routine. 

When was the last time you apologized and didn’t mean it? I don’t typically apologize unless I mean it.  Do you prefer to be the “talker” or the “listener” in a conversation? I like to listen. I only speak if I have something to contribute.  How are you feeling today? Is there any particular reason as to why? I am feeling grossly anxious- I’m still feeling insanely anxious about the break up, I’m feeling really anxious about school stuff, and I’m generally restless. 

What do you think defines beauty? Soul.

Do you find these qualities in yourself? I do think that I’m beautiful; I genuinely care about others and I love unconditionally. My soul is aglow.  Do you know anyone personally with those qualities? Yes. I don’t typically waste my energy on people who aren’t internally beautiful.  Is there anything you wear everyday? My glasses.  Do you actually brush your teeth three times a day? Twice.  How about floss? Honestly- nah.  What’s your first name? Caitlin.  Is that actually what you go by, or do people call you by something else? I prefer to be called Cait (family and close friends use it). I’ve also been called Caity and Cat.  Do you like to sing for other people? Nah, I like to sing when I’m alone.  What’s a movie that you think everyone should see? Land Before Time. Do you spend a lot of your time alone? A decent amount of time. I’m introverted and socializing exhausts me.  If so, do you like it that way? I don’t mind it. 

Do you know anyone personally who has done meth? Yes.  Do you usually like bizarre people? Yes. Do you have a best friend? If so, why are they the “best”? I have multiple best friends; I’m an all or nothing lady so you’re either my best friend or someone I care very little about. People who make the best friend tier are supportive, honest, understanding, genuine, light-hearted, open-minded, etc.  Who do you love the most in your life? My dad.  Name something that you would never do: Hard drugs. 

Have you ever moved to a new country? No.  How do you usually wear your hair? Down.  If you could have any hair color, what color would you want? I am happy with black hair.  Name a song that you feel describes you/your life pretty well: I can’t think of one at this time.  If you could have any animal as a pet, what would you want? I have a dog and a cat and honestly they are all I want/need.  What’s the strangest thing you’ve ever personally witnessed? So many things.  If you could kiss anyone right now, who would you kiss? Carter probably... even though that’s really dumb because we broke up...  Do you have any piercings? Lobes and rook. Are there any you would want? No. The nearest object to you (other than your computer/chair/etc), what is it? Blanket.  Do you own a kindle? Yes.  When was the last time you saw your “first love”? Ugh if we count Brian, who I have recently decided I never actually loved, I was just young, dumb, and impressionable, then I saw him today.  Name something you really like about yourself: Honestly, I like myself a lot so there’s a long list.  Name something you really don’t like about yourself: I have a hefty codependency issue.  When was the last time you were sick? What did you have? Winter.  What’s your favorite smell(s)? Patchouli. Where’s the most beautiful place you’ve been to? So far, Thailand.  What are you going to do after this? Go home.  Stretch your hand out as far as you can to the left. What are you touching? Nothing.  Do you like to wear make up? 50% of the time.  Is there anything you’d rather be doing right now? I’d rather be home.  What’s the stupidest song on the radio right now, in your opinion? I don’t typically listen to the radio, I use apple music.  What’s a word you just can’t spell right? There’s plenty of words I can’t spell.  What’s the last book you read? The Body Keeps Score. (Currently reading). Did you like it? It’s a really good book, so long as you’re into non-fiction.  What do you keep beside your bed? Nothing.  Do you pluck/wax/thread your eyebrows? I pluck the stray hairs once every few months.  What’s something unique about you? The way in which I absorb other peoples’ emotions.  Who’s the smartest person you know personally? I know a lot of smart people who have certain areas of expertise.  What makes them so smart? Their knowledge and understanding of subjects coupled with the openness to new information.  You can’t feel pain for an entire day. What would you do? Drop a large amount of cash money on all the tattoos I’d like to get.  Who inspires you most? My dad. He’s an amazing human.  Have you ever won a contest of some sort? No.  Are you straight? Yes-ish. I wouldn’t necessarily decline a date due to gender. If we vibe, we vibe. So far in life I have only ever dated.hooked up with guys.  Are your nails painted? If so, what color? Dark purple.  You can only eat one food group for the rest of your life. Which one? Fruit.  Are there any religions other than your own that you identify with? I’m not particularly religious... a bit spiritual maybe. Buddhism is fascinating to me.  Who makes you the happiest? I’m not sure.  Do you do any specific exercises to stay in shape? I go to the gym as often as I have time for an speed walk 10 minutes, lift weights, and then bike for 10 minutes.  Are you trendy? Not particularly. 

What color is your bedroom? Do you like it? Uhhh... I change themes every now and then.  Have you ever seriously thought you were going to die? Anytime I’ve had a panic attack.  What does your shampoo smell like? Uhhh... idk.  What’s your desktop wallpaper? Highland cow.  Have you ever smoked weed? Mmhmm.  If so, did you like it? Sure.  Have you done any other drugs? If so, what are they? Nope. 

Do you actually like your smile? Yes.  Leave off with a word of advice: Work hard and go on lots of vacations when you’re young.