#and my fucked up brain thought that total should be SEVEN DOLLARS

[martyrdom9]

trying to figure out if the function got mass roofied last night or if pre gaming is just bad actually

[violettavonviolet]

Marvel Fic Rec's

All fics are finished and absolutely amazing! I've sorted these by ship and the word count goes up as you scroll. This is the first half of my Tony Stark fic recs, the second half is linked below.

Fics that haven't left my brain since I read them are marked with a star.

Gen

It Matters to Me

Shyane

Summary:

Tony doesn't like having an empty seat to his right.

3k, past character death

Inhale, Exhale *

Oceanbreeze7

Summary:

The Arc Reactor did so much more than what everyone had realized.

Or maybe they never thought to question how a metal cylinder could exist inside the sternum of a human being without causing any lasting damage.

Or

The story that questions a little more on how the Arc Reactor would actually affect the biology of a human being.

9k gen

Amateur Theatrics

galaxysoup

Summary:

In which Thor’s primary problem-solving method (a mighty blow from Mjolnir) fails to have the desired effect on a magical artifact, and his secondary method (a mightier blow from Mjolnir) proves to be actively disastrous.

26k teen

Frostiron

The Perfect Height

The_Winter_Writer

Summary:

Thor wasn't really sure why everyone in the kitchen was staring at Tony, half-asleep and tucked against Loki's side, until he realized that none of their teammates had actually seen Tony standing without shoes on.

1.7k not rated

Dollars to Donuts

thespacelizard

Summary:

University AU. Tony texts Loki offering money for Loki to be his personal takeout guy. It’s weird, but so is Tony, and Loki is strapped for cash. The arrangement becomes something more when Tony changes the script and asks him for something else – a favour. 

All human English University AU because that is all I know how to write. Ace!Tony, and Ace!Loki. AU fluff.

6k teen

Breathing Out Your Praise.

Michaelssw0rd

Summary:

There are seven Hebrew words for praise and worship. Even though Tony does not know the words, he worships his lover- the god of mischief- in the essence of each of them.

7.3k mature

The Golden Apple

orphan_account

Summary:

Prompt: "Offering someone mortal a golden apple, wasn’t just offering them immortality, it was synonymous with asking them to spend eternity together, which was basically a marriage proposal and a question to become a family in one go. Which yeah, someone should have told Tony that. Loki totally failed to mention it, thinking it was common knowledge. Tony just thought that it was a weird gift of art decoration. It was a fucking golden apple, it didn’t look like something to eat, he wasn’t all that informed or interested into myths, how was he supposed to know that having the apple sit prettily on his desk and not eating it just showed a painful and long indecision akin to rejection to everyone who knew what the offering of an golden apple actually meant?"

Tony had honestly thought everything was fine.

So why was Loki acting so strange after giving him that apple?

9k teen

Fighting, Flyting, Flaunting, Flirting *

Redring91

Summary:

-

“What’s flyting?”

“Tis a form of verbal battle performed in the courts of Asgard, where opponents trade insults in verse.” Thor explains.

“Offensive poetry?” Tony clarifies, because that sounds awesome.

Thor nods. “Loki was by far the best skilled at it – it was not for nothing he came to be known as Silvertongue. He ceased competing in official matches after a time though. He deemed there were none on Asgard who could claim to be a worthy match for his attentions.” Thor levels a thoughtful look towards Tony at this.

“So, you’re saying that Tony derailed the fight because Loki enjoys it when they’re insulting each other?” Clint says slowly.

Thor gives a rather helpless shrug. “Loki has always enjoyed flyting.”

9.3k mature

Accepted

Arkada

Summary:

Tony’s less of an Avenger and more of an Avenger for hire - and that means his services are available to anyone who can pay the price. So when Loki shows up and asks for a consultation, it’d just be bad practice to turn him down.

Loki doesn’t exactly pay by credit card. No, he’s offering something much more appealing...

21k explicit

A Supervillain’s Guide to Getting Married

LulaMadison

Summary:

Written for this prompt on Avengerkink: "Even though there's the frequent battles with the Avengers, and his plans are always being thwarted, Loki likes it on Earth. He doesn't want to leave! But Odin (and Thor) rather want him back in Asgard. Loki decides it would be a good idea to marry a local, and have an excuse for staying put. Maybe he tries meeting some new people, but they don't interest him much. Better to stick with the people he knows (and would never admit to maybe kind of respecting a tiny bit). So Loki decides to marry an Avenger."

41k mature

Tea with the Hatter (TGIF)

theorytale

Summary:

It's seven a.m., Thursday fourteenth November, 2013.

It always is.

61k mature

The Underwater Basket-Weaving Society of America *

thisiswhatthewatergaveme

Summary:

Loki's crash landed, which is great. Only what do you do with a powerless, power-hungry ex-god looking for retaliation?

130k explicit

tripping and falling over the red line of fate *

graveltotempo

Summary:

While trying to escape from an ambush in Afghanistan, Toni ends up on Asgard.

Things do not get easier from there.

Between prison stays, death sentences, and a secret that could kickstart another 1000 years war, she does find her soulmate. So maybe, it isn't all so bad.

131k gen

The Midgard Offensive

NamelesslyNightlock

Summary:

As Thanos begins to assemble the Infinity Stones, the universe cries out for its heroes. Tony and Loki have never quite claimed to be that, but they know that they’re still going to do a damn fine job of defending their planet regardless. There’s just no way they’re letting an angsty purple eggplant tear them apart and destroy everything they’ve built together. No way in hell.

143k  teen

pink raspberry cosmo

graveltotempo

Summary:

It's the last night of the Millennium.

Tony Stark's plan is to score a night with Maya Hansen, listen a bit to her research and have a fun little night.

But then he meets Loki, a handsome Prince from a faraway land, and the timeline is veered completely off course.

269k teen

Stony

Follow in Your Footsteps

Sineala

Summary:

When Tony is twelve, his soulmate's name appears on his wrist. Unfortunately, it's hard to find out anything at all about Steve Rogers.

It turns out there's a reason for that.

6k teen

The Winged Soul *

inukagome15

Summary:

It wasn't until he was three that he realized he was different and no one else could see the wings.

14k teen

To Have My Time Again...

WilmaKins

Summary:

It's been two years since Siberia, and Tony Stark is still dealing with the fallout - personal and political. Life is quite complicated enough, without Bruce falling through a wizards roof yelling that Thanos is coming. 

Thor and Loki are stalling, but time is running out. The fate of the universe is at stake. Steve Rogers is back in the picture. Really, the last thing Tony needs is for their plan to go horribly wrong and bring Howard Stark forward in time. 

But his Dad *is* standing in his office, whether he likes it or not. 

So, it looks like Tony will have to fix that mess too.

166k teen

marvel fic recs part 2

[amoristt]

Grazing the Fire | IV

well hello. here i am, four years later, once again enamored with nathan enough to finally dust this baby off and pick up where i left it. im a little rusty so bear with me this chapter! much more to come <3

reblogs + tags and replies will make my entire day as i put a lot of effort into this :)! it also helps motivate me!

story continues beneath the read more. let me know if you can’t access it!

Warning: language, very vague s/a mentions

want to support me? heres my kofi!

__________________________

“Alright class, who can tell me,” A board stick clacks against the chalkboard. “Who can answer problem four?” 

A few hands raise in the corners of your eye, but yours remains atop your desk. Eyes far away, mind in a murky haze and almost completely unaware. All you could focus on were the memories playing on repeat within the confines of your tired, tired brain. Hours ago, you were warm, you were comfortable. Safe.

Cheeks heated to a dusting blush when you remind yourself just how you had awoken that morning. At some point in the night, an angel had blessed you. Allowed you to wake up wrapped around none other than big, bad, Nathan Prescott. Your face nuzzled into his chest, broad but wiry hands pressed firmly over your shoulder and his arm slung over your waist to keep you against him. Thankfully you had been the first to wake up, blinking away the morning sun blazing through his blinds and painting the room stripes of gold. At that moment, before your headache came crashing down onto your skull, you were astounded by him. 

Eye lashes brushing the top of his cheeks, his lips parted ever so slightly, chest rising and falling rhythmically. In that moment, there was no anger, no bitterness. Just a soft and peaceful slumber. It was like being the sole viewer of a magnificent painting- each stroke and detail placed just there just for you to pick out, to remember the curves and sharp edges down to the very foundation. From his unkempt hair down to the way his hand flattened onto the mattress where your indent still lived. Nathan was so beautiful like this. 

For a long time you stayed there. It was as though you were afraid to move- you couldn’t bear to disturb him. You had wondered, if he was always like this, so at peace, what would he be like? Likely soft voiced, mild mannered. He’d do his school assignments without hassle and donate to the charity board. He would wander the town with his friends and listen to music in a beat up truck flying down the stretch of highway overlooking the bold, blue, and beautiful ocean. An entirely different version of himself- carefree, and a fair blue as opposed to a burning flame of red. 

But, if that were the case, you’d never have gotten here. You’d never been both the outsider, and the only seeing eye. A lucky, albeit firstly unwilling witness to the display of depth before you. 

It never hit you like it had quite in that moment how lucky you were.

But- just then- an alarm disturbed what serendipity existed. You nearly leapt out of your skin, clutched your hands to your chest at the sudden sound. A headache wove its way into your once untouched temples. Nathan groaned, mumbled, ‘god damn it’, under his breath, and thus his body was reanimated into life. He rubbed his eyes and he stretched, that familiar scowl coming over his eyes and lips as he took in the sunlight damn near blinding him. A polar opposite to the being you’d appreciated just moments earlier.

“Ugh, fuck, how the fuck is it seven already.” He groaned. “I feel like shit.”

“Well good morning to you too,” You started, welcoming Nathan into the world. “‘I’m feeling pretty shitty as well.” 

You said that, but really… You were more than alright. Your head had hurt, slight nausea crept into the wells of your stomach, but other than that you’re sure you were phenomenally better than you’d have been waking up whereverTate would have left your ass.

“You need to get outta here, before everyone gets up.” Nathan drawled, but he didn’t sound as urgent as you expected him to be. You’d expected him to be angry that you were still in his room, but instead he just… accepted it. 

You snickered, climbing out of his throne of a bed. “Wow, you’re giving me the morning after treatment?” 

“Sure am. Get outta here, whore.”

“Oh fuck you.” 

You located your heels from last night, resting upright near his dorm room door. Heels didn’t sound like the most  practical to sneak out of a dorm with, so you instead opted to grappling them by the straps and carrying them at your side. Hair a mess, outfit riddled with wrinkles and makeup smudged under your eyes, you stood before Nathan in all your glory. He stared at you for a long, odd moment- and you for some reason felt exposed, or even, shy. 

“What?” You ask expectantly, placing a hand on your hip. 

His eyes trail to your line of vision. He shakes his head. “Just thinking about how now you really do look like my morning after.”

“Yeah?” You hummed. “Find it hard to believe you get a lot of those.”

Nathan shoots you a suggestive glance. “You’d be surprised. Everyone wants a piece of Prescott.”

Surely, he was joking, or maybe he wasn’t, but you… Didn’t like hearing that. It made your stomach feel odd, uncomfortably heavy.  As he stood up, reminding you how many inches he had over your size, you swallowed and cleared your throat to flush out that crappy feeling. “Well,” you started, mood having dropped. “I’m gonna go, then.” 

“What got your panties in a twist all the sudden?” He asked, raising a brow and pulling some clothes from his closet, tossing them onto the bed.

The bed you two had shared.

You hated the idea of his morning afters- whoever they may be. 

“Not feeling great. Probably a side effect of the roofies.” You mumbled.

Nathan breathed a laugh. “Probably.”

He seemed so calm, right now. Perhaps due to it being so early, before the outside world had a chance to remind him just why he was so uptight all the tight. Before he needed to be so uptight all the time. He really did have so many versions of himself- all of whom you were slowly becoming familiar with. Compared to the person you’d believed him to be before your run ins, you’d never have assumed someone so dangerous could be so soft as last night, as this morning. In the beginning, you’d feared him. Avoided him like a plague, or a wild animal. Even when you were enraptured in the existence of him, you still wanted to keep away. You’d never have believed someone like you could wake up clutched to his chest, as though he were afraid if he released you, you’d be gone long before he woke. 

Then, a sudden thought struck your mind. 

He’d held you so tight. He’d welcomed you in the morning. No anger, no annoyance. His soft laugh at your banter and taunts. How your heels were standing upright instead of tossed haphazardly into some random corner, where he’d watch your struggle to find. 

How he’d stayed awake to ensure your sleep.

“So are you just gonna stand there?” Nathan called you back to reality, hands gripping the hems of his shirt. “I gotta get ready and you need to wash up so you don’t look like a five dollar stripper.” Cruel words, but with absolutely no bite. You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah. But, hey,” You started. “Thank you for last night.” 

“Yeah, yeah. You gotta start learning to watch your own back.” He says. “There’s gonna be times I won’t be there to drag your ass out of the fire.”

If you’d been charged, if you’d been stricken with a strange defensiveness, you’d have retorted, ‘than stop helping me’, but… Instead you allowed yourself the comfort of protection. You allowed Nathan Prescott to watch you.  

“I know,” You reached for the door. “Thank you.”

With that, you bounded out of the dorm silent as a mouse. 

-----------

In hindsight, you should have left earlier. Class was merely 15 minutes away when you slipped out of Nathan's room and bounded towards the women's dorm. Albeit not exactly a long walk, by the time you discreetly snuck back into your own dorm, you had roughly twenty minutes to somehow pick an outfit from your countless unopened boxes and make yourself even slightly presentable. 

Wiping off whatever make-up you could get and reapplying it, brushing out the tangles of your hair and nearly tearing off your scalp in the process, scattering your nightclothes over your floor and managing to scrounge out a semi-decent outfit for the day… You still looked a mess. If the mirror could laugh, it would have. Black mascara smudges under your eyes and frizzy untreated hair. What a lovely look. 

You’d made it to class just five minutes late, but those five minutes were all it took for all eyes to be on you as you tried to slide into the classroom unnoticed. A couple classmates whispered to their table mates as you passed by, smelling of oversaturated cherry blossom perfume to hopefully cover the scent of alcohol. You sauntered to your seat and sank down with all your weight, suddenly exhausted. You’d made it with just five minutes tainting your record of attendance. The teacher greeted you with a disappointed sigh, and thus, the day began. 

But, it was so hard to focus. All you could think about was Nathan. 

“Alright class, who can tell me,” A board stick clacks against the chalkboard. “Who can answer problem four?” 

You lowered your head. 

“Ah, how about, ___?”

You snaked back into reality, blinking up at the chalk board that was somehow already riddled with math equations. Since you hadn’t been paying attention even in the slightest, your mouth gaped wide open, eyes scanning for something you understood even slightly so you didn’t look like a total idiot. 

Sadly, you were out of luck. The teacher shook his head. “I’m shocked,” He said. “You're normally so on top of things. Oh well.”

“Oh, I’m sure she was on top of things,” A female voice sniggered behind you “Last night.”

Your face flushed a red, hot, ruby. What the hell was she talking about? How had they found out you were with Nathan? You were so sure of being sneaky, there was no way-

“Her and Tate totally got it on last night.”

You whipped around in your seat, facing girls who looked to be clones of some sort. Both with the same dark eyes, short brown hair, and freckles. “What?”

“Alright-” Your teacher blurted. “That's enough. April, May, enough. Let’s not discuss things outside of the classroom.”

The two girls batted their eyes. “Sorry sir.” One spoke, twirling a hand through her hair. Her sister's wide toothy grin never fumbled. 

“Back to it then. Kate, can you help out __ with number four?” 

The small, blonde girl nodded quickly, brushing a lock of hair behind her eyes and offering an empathic nod. 

As you turned around in your seat, her answer fell on deaf ears. Your heart was racing in your chest, hands balled into fists while you stared ahead blankly.  

They couldn’t seriously think that you chose to leave with Tate, could they? Surely someone must have seen the state you were in. Someone other than Nathan.

The clock ticks forward but time feels like it's passing almost unnaturally slow. With just 10 minutes left, you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket.

‘Nathan: consider ur favor officially returned 

Your tongue poked from your lips, the tiniest of smiles taking over your once sullen features. Terrible thoughts and worries flew out the window while you type back, ‘damn. here i was gonna to ask you to do a backflip off the roof with me. there goes my plans.’

Nathan types for a moment. Typing, stopping, typing again. 

‘Nathan: soundz like a blast. where and when?’

A small blush heats your cheeks. ‘very funny. thanks to last night i have an entire 24 hour session of studying to catch up with.’

His response is almost instant. ‘Nathan: boringgg. txt me when ur fun.’

Rolling your eyes, you shove your phone back into your pocket. It seems you’ve been able to secure enough of a friendship with him for some mindless banter even outside your little visits. You smile. He’s… Fun to talk to. Surprisingly. 

Class comes to an end and you start to pack up the books and papers you’d hardly even glanced at the whole period. Whatever had been upsetting you before is lost in your mind while you think of the morning, the night before. All the things in-between. But, your happiness doesn’t last long. As you get up, you’re almost forced right back into your seat as a weight shoves into your shoulder. Your books scatter to the floor. April, the one who’d remarked about you earlier, glares at you in what looks to be disgust. 

“Careful April,” Her sister hums as she saunters past you, keeping distance and raising her already shrill tone of voice. “Might wanna watch where you’re walking- I’d hate for you to catch something from this slut.”

You absolutely gawk at her. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

April scoffs. “Oh come on, like everyone doesn’t know what you were up to last night.”

“Sleeping around isn’t a good color on you.” May hikes her bag over her shoulder and snickers at you. They both leave the class together, sickeningly in sync. You’re left stunned where you stand, unsure how the hell your life came to this so quickly. How you’ve stooped so low that the daughters of the world's most uncreative parents are able to bully you based on something that didn’t even happen.

Next class goes no better. The person to your right, a jockey looking brunette guy, asks, ‘have you ever heard of a Tate?’. You say no, that that’s the dumbest name you’ve ever heard. The idiot grins and goes back to marking down likely wrong answers on his test sheet and you debate kicking the leg of his chair out- but you don’t to avoid even more eyes on you. It makes you sick to your stomach- even more than recovering from the roofies does. How can everyone believe it? You barely even knew the guy and you were clearly uncomfortable with his advances. No one saw that? 

After everything you’d worked for to build a reputation, trying so hard to not call out peoples shit for the sake of seeming friendly, tainted over something that didn’t even happen? And the kicker was that it hadn’t even been your fault! He’d drugged you, he’d have taken advantage of you! Yet you were the bad person? 

Class came and went in the blink of an eye this time. Your mind wrapped up in the situation, your stomach churning. You wanted the day to be over with but you still had 4 more classes to suffer through. Why was this happening to you? Was Tate being treated just as horribly, or was he getting pats on the backs of his unaware friends?

Wandering down the halls to your locker, you noticed Lance and Kaz hanging around one of the drinking fountains. Your nerves quelled- your friends would surely make you feel much better. Especially since they had witnessed how awful you were feeling as you left. You approach with a relieved smile, ready to say your truth and finally have someone on your side.

“Hey guys.” You smile, but Lance looks down at his feet while Kaz places her hands to his hips. Your smile fades.

“You could have told us you were gonna spend the night with Tate,” Kaz snaps. “You didn’t need to lie like that just to leave. We were all worried about you and it was for nothing.”

“What?” You feel like you could cry. “No, Kaz, I really did try to leave. Tate tried to drug me and take me home, and-”

“He wouldn’t do that.” Lance interrupts, with a frown. He looks back down at the floor with knitted brows. “I’ve known Tate since before time. He wouldn't do something like that, especially not to one of my best friends. Plus he told me he was really into you. Why would he even try?”

“Are you serious?” You sputter. “You think I’d lie about something like that?”

“You’ve been lying about all sorts of things!” Kaz huffs. “What’s going on with you lately? You’ve been so distant, and secretive. What are you hiding that’s making you lie like this? We’re supposed to be your friends and then you lie to our faces just to go and fuck the first guy that shows you attention.”

“What…?” It was like acid. It was like the rug had been pulled from your feet sending you spiraling down the unending cliff. Kaz, your best friend, all that venom. How could they turn against you like this? What the hell is going on? You felt your throat tighten. “Look, I’m sorry if I’ve been distant, but I’m not lying to you, I-”

“We gotta go.” Lance isn’t in the mood to hear it. “We’ll catch up to you.. Some other time.”

Kaz says nothing as she pushes past you. Lance, at least, spares a short glance over his shoulder. You stood there alone in the hallway, your bag falling off your shoulder and clattering onto the floor with a thud echoing off the walls. Everything you had, all gone at once. 

No one believed you.

---------

With nowhere to go where you felt like you could truly allow yourself to process the day's events, you went to the only place you knew. 

Just outside of campus, where rocks lined the edge of the boundary, overlooking the outskirts of the town and the ocean stretching as far as the eye could see. You settled yourself there, staring at the vast waters and wondering how this had all happened. Unlucky didn’t even begin to cover how it felt. Not only did you feel violated with Tate attempting to do unthinkable things with your unconscious body, but you also felt alone, and walked on. Your best friends hadn’t believed you. While Lance seemed saddened, Kaz was so… Angry. Her words cut like knives into your skin. 

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair. You didn’t deserve this.

You want to talk to Nathan, but knowing him, he’d see your state and bounce instantly. After all, this isn’t exactly very fun of you.

As the sun began to fall, splaying orange and blues over the wide open sky, behind you, you could hear voices. A group of them, some male, some female. Memories of when your notebook had gotten snatched by those two horsed face assholes came flooding back and with all your alertness, you stood up, and decided that this sitting place was no longer safe. Nothing was.

Before you even made it ten feet away, the group had found their way to your spot and gotten comfortable, one of the girls cheering, ‘this’ll be our hangout! look at how pretty the view is!’

You took a short drive down the stretches of road and decided that if you were going to lament in your own sadness, you were at least going to do so in a place that had something to cover the sound of your tears. Plus a nice view.

The beach, littered with its picnic tables and the sounds of crashing waves would suffice just fine. So, you pulled in the desolate parking lot and wandered down the sandy shores until you stumbled upon a picnic table shaded by a large willow cascading lushious branches to block out the sun- a perfect canopy for you to wallow under. 

You had nothing at that moment. No friends, no reputation, no one to believe your tragic tale. And now, you’d just lost the one spot that made you feel comfortable when stress was building into your body like concrete. Tears pricked into the corners of your eyes and you bit your lip, dreading that feeling of a lump in your throat. Why you? Everything had been going so well. How could not even a single person believe that Tate had tried to hurt you?

Well, actually, there was one person.

Of course Nathan believed you. He’d been the one to rescue you, after all. Time and time again it seemed.  How was it that even the ones closest to you would turn their back so fast, yet Nathan seemed to be there even when you didn’t want him to be? Even when you yelled at him, and he yelled right back, fire and sparks falling into embers around the two of you. 

In that moment, you almost felt like you could finally relate to him. A reputation based on lies and things out of your control, paired with a hardheaded attitude to try and combat all the assumptions. 

No wonder he was so angry. 

“Hey bitch,” A voice suddenly called, and you had a split second moment where you were terrified of once again being the victim of a cruel prank or some classmates boredom. “How about next time you have a pity party you don’t fucking call me in the middle of it.”

You blinked away your tears and through the blurriness saw a figure coming towards you. All that sass, the tone...

“Nathan?” You breathed. It only takes moments before he’s in front of you, holding his phone in view, seeing that the call that had been running for nearly ten minute. You flush in embarrassment, pulling your phone from your back pocket. “How did that happen?”

“Well, can your ass dial numbers?” He taunts, ending the call. 

“Damn it, dumb phone must have butt-dialed you. I knew I should’ve gotten a different one.” You mentally kick yourself. “It must have unlocked in my pocket.”

“You don’t have a password on your phone?” He taunts. When you shake your head, he whistles. “You are just begging for a robbery. I’ll keep that in mind when I’m in the mood to send random messages to all your buddies.” 

“Fuck off.” You scowl, and he grins, hopping up on the picnic table next to you. The sun flatters his skin. He’s almost glowing. 

“Speaking of buddies, how the hell did it pick my number out of your sea of friends?”

You shrug. “Probably cuz’ it’s a priority contact.” 

“Oh lala, I’ve been upgraded to priority huh? Does it display a superman logo whenever you give it a ring?”

“Nope. When I press call it rings the nearest asshole in my vicinity. The fact that it’s you is your own problem.”

“Haha, fucking ha.” He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees. He stares out at the water, watching waves pull and crash onto the beach. It’s almost beautiful, until he ruins it. “Yknow, you’re a really ugly crier.”

“Wow, thanks.” You shake your head. “That's exactly what I needed to hear right now. Why did you even stay on the line?.” Wiping your eyes, you start to forget your tears. “Couldn’t have been that wild of a conversation.”

Nathan shrugs. “Between the crying and the sound of the waves it was pretty nice.” He grins. “Very educational.” 

“Awesome. Glad I was able to make your day.” It doesn’t feel like your usual bitey remarks. You’re tired, you’re still a little hurt and you can’t stop thinking about how such an amazing morning had turned into such a horrible day.

“So what’s got you all fucked up? Never seen you act like this big of a baby before.”

“Nothing. You already paid off your debt to me per this morning, so feel free to resume our regularly scheduled mutual hatred.” You say, lying through your teeth. You know you’re both past the point of hatred, but you’re feeling jaded, you can’t help it. 

“Oh shut the fuck up,” He groans. “I didn’t drag my ass all the fucking way out to this shit hole of a beach just for you to give me that bullshit. What, did you fail a test? No one matched you on tinder?”

“Everyone thinks me and Tate slept together last night.” You blurt. “I think he’s telling people me and him had sex.”

Nathan tenses his shoulders and grimaces. “Fucking werido.”

“I told my best friends that he tried to take advantage of me and they don’t believe me. One of em’ even said he wouldn’t do something like that.”

“Fuck em’. Who needs best friends.”

“And to make everything so much better, these two bitches that I share four of my classes with harassed me all goddamn day. I mean, fucks sake, how the hell are girls named April and May of all things able to get to me. It’s bullshit. And to make matters worse, Tate is just… Getting away with it.”

“Yeah well, something tells me that Tate’s gonna get a real nice fucking taste of medicine eventually. I just gotta find him first. He’s got a lot of nerve spreading shit around given I knocked his ass onto the pavement.” Nathan brows knit at the memory.

You test the waters. “Why would you do that for me?”

He seems caught off guard, or maybe, surprised that you’d ask. Maybe he thinks you’re both beyond that point. He grumbles, “Why does it matter.”

“I’m just curious. We don’t owe each other anything, remember?”

“Yeah, well,” He huffs. “Don’t ask me questions to shit I don’t know the answer to.”

“You say that an awful lot.” You tease.

“Yeah well you ask dumbass questions an awful lot. Not everything I do has to have some weird ass motives behind it, ___. Maybe I’ve got beef with Tate that’s outside of you.”

“Uhuh. Sure.” You’re about to say something else, when your phone lights up with a text. The display makes your heart fall all over again. 

Unknown Number: you should just pack up and go somewhere else. no one wants std’s from breathing your air xoxo

You don’t even know who that is. Now absolute strangers are on your case. You want to throw your phone into the ocean and leave.

Nathan scoffs. “Don’t even bat a fucking eye for that bitch, whoever the hell they are. Half the hoes you’ve mentioned have slept with half the football team,” he pinches his jacket, “and I would know.”

“Ew, Nathan,” You grimace, that same feeling from the morning returning. It feels, oddly, like jealousy.  He nudges your arm with his elbow and grins playfully. It’s cute.

“Chill, I’m just fucking with you. You gotta know even I wouldn’t fuck girls that desperate. I’m a man of class.”

That last comment actually forces a laugh from you. It’s soft, but it’s real. The first laugh you’ve genuinely had all day. “That’s horrible.” You remark, giggling again.

It's almost like the slight restoration of your mood puts him at ease as well. He leans back on his hands and stares off into the ocean, those sparkling waters under the setting, orange sun. “I’m for real though. Those hoes aren’t worth your time. One day when we blow this shithole of a town they’re not even gonna matter.”

Your brows knit, eyes blinking up at him. Had you heard that right? 

“We?” You ask, perplexed, albeit a little… Hopeful.

Nathan sputters. “Well- Like, when everyone’s older and-”

“You know what, it's fine.” You interrupt. “Fuck it. You’re right. We’re gonna blow this town and they’re just gonna be some shitty memories.”

He sucks in a shaky breath. You’ve never heard him scramble like that, like he’s been unmasked. The look he casts you when you agree, when you don’t tease or patronize and finally hop on the idea that yeah, what if the two of you really didn’t have to deal with it anymore.

What if the two of you could just exist, without the anger. 

You look up at him. “Would you actually do that though?” You start. “With me, of all people?”

He swallows. His expression is tense, but he’s not upset. He appears nervous, caught off guard. Nathan tries, “I-”

Your phone rings. Shrill, piercing. Mood destroying. 

“Jesus Christ, it’s my mom.” You grab your phone and Nathan looks forward, stone faced and silent as you hop off the table and answer. It’s your mother, who all but shouts into the phone that her and your father are taking a surprising visit to Arcadia Bay while they’re traveling by on their vacation. She insists that you be ready in about an hour for dinner, and likely there will be family photos. 

Which means if you still look as wrecked as you did this morning, you’re gonna have a lot of washing up to do. With a quick goodbye, a short and sweet, ‘love you’, you hang up and sigh. 

“You still tell your mom you love her?” He teases. “What are you, five?”

You frown. “You don’t tell your parents you love them?”

Nathan side eyes you, and just shrugs. It is all the answer you need, really, and for his sake you decide it wouldn’t be best to press the issue. Not now. But- it still makes your heart hurt just a little. You wished that he’d had it better growing up. 

“Right… Do you want a ride home?”

“Fuck no, what am I,” He shoves his hands into his pockets. “a fucking girl scout?” 

“I was just offering, weirdo.” When he doesn't get up, you feel like you’re missing out. Like if you stayed, maybe, just maybe, you’d get to know him a little better. “Hey, if you want, I can stay for a bit longer.”

He rolls his eyes. “You’re needed elsewhere. But,” he shrugs. “I don’t know. Fuckin’... Text me or something. Or not, I don’t care either way.”

There’s a small warmth in your chest that rises to your cheeks. He wants you to text him. “Yeah,” You say. “If I’m feeling fun.”

And with that, you bid him farewell, beginning your descent to the parking lot. 

“Hey,” He calls, and you turn just in time to catch a small item he’s tossed right at you. A tiny key resides in the palm of your hand. “Spare. If shit hits the fan again-...” He shrugs, and actually looks away. “Just don’t be too fucking loud of I’ll kick your ass out myself. No Madison needed.”

The widest grin plays over your lips. “I’m gonna re-decorate your room while you’re gone.”

“Ah, you fucking better not.” He shouts. “Actually- you know what, give it back.” 

“No, no! I’m sorry.” You play with the key between your fingers. “Thanks for this.”

“Yeah, whatever. Don’t lose it and remember- emergencies only. I don’t need you watching me sleep like fucking freak. We’re past that stage.” 

“How many times will I have to say I was never watching you. Christ… But, alright. See ya, then.” The key is heavy in your palm. 

You place it into your pocket and give him one last glance before you take off, leaving him to enjoy the sound of waves, birds, and the absence of your tears.

[missjanjie]

Like a Million Dollar Bill | Jessence

Title: Like a Million Dollar Bill Summary:  Jaida has recently come to terms with being a widow after her husband suddenly passed under totally normal and not at all suspicious circumstances. As the sole heir, she also suddenly finds herself richer than she could ever imagine. But she doesn't stay a lonely widow for long, as one night at her friend's lounge brings a woman into her life that might even be more valuable than her fortune. Word Count: ~3.2k Relationship(s): Jessence (Jan Sport/Jaida Essence Hall) Rating: E Notes: this is my submission for the black girl magic fic challenge so a note for that is the title is from the song 'million dollar bill' by whitney houston. also big thanks to @janssports for beta-ing

Read on AO3

-

“That finalizes everything, Mrs. Whitham, and again, I am so sorry for your loss.” The man from the probate court shook Jaida’s hand before she got up to leave.

Jaida did her best to maintain the miserable expression she had on through the funeral. She thought about the disdain she felt when the man used her married name, how desperate she was to regain her sense of individual identity. She was free, only if she played her cards right. But this was a long time coming, to say the least. “Thank you so much, sir.” She dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief before leaving the room.

Sitting on a bench in the hallway was her younger sister, Heidi. She got up and took her hand. “You good?” she asked gently, coming off as nothing more than the concerned sibling of a grieving widow. But the look in her eyes reminded Jaida that she knew. She knew it all. Someone had to, lest the burden of keeping a secret became overwhelming and came out to the wrong person.

And Jaida continued to play her role, standing upright and swallowing thickly, because she was just struggling to stay strong. “I will be,” she said with a tremor in her voice.

“Who did he appoint as the…” Heidi furrowed her brows as she wracked her brain. “What’s the word again? For the person that’s gonna transfer his funds to you?”

“Executor,” she answered. “And it’s his sister, lord help me.” She sighed. Her deceased husband’s family had never been fond of her - due both to the twenty-year gap that existed in their relationship and outright racism. The only upside to that was no one outside the family took their complaints very seriously, but that didn’t mean she was at all happy to have to deal with her. “Anyway, I’m gonna go to Shea’s lounge tonight. She’s got a new singer, should be cute. You wanna come?”

Her sister shook her head. “Naw, I gotta get my ass up early to finish packing. Gonna take some time to move into that fancy-ass mansion.” She chuckled. It might not have been the best time to be visibly excited, but she was so thrilled to get herself and her dogs out of her one bedroom, seven hundred square-foot apartment.

“Suit yourself.” Jaida shrugged as she pulled her coat on. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

------

The lounge Shea owned was chic, calm, a place Jaida would probably still frequent if it wasn’t her best friend’s pride and joy. It was the type of place where she could dress up to go to, without feeling like she had to be on her best, most reserved behavior. And after all of the day’s events, she just wanted to relax, entering the club and making a beeline to her friend.

“Hey, I’m so glad you made it!” Shea beamed, hugging her tightly. “Just wait until you see our new act. She’s fresh out of university with a fancy musical theatre degree, and the bitch can sing. It’s fucking angelic, Jaida.” She didn’t mention Jaida’s husband’s death at that moment. While she didn’t know exactly what happened, she knew how miserable Jaida had been, how there hadn’t been any love between them in god knows how long. She knew how poorly he treated her and that his death probably wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

Jaida chuckled, walking with her to the bar while Shea ordered them a couple of drinks. “Damn, you really hyped her up, I’m gonna just take your word on it,” she assured, taking a sip of her drink when the bartender placed it beside her.

“Just come on, her set’s about to start,” Shea threw some money down on the counter and pulled Jaida along to one of the velvet couches so they could sit and watch.

Jan walked onto the stage, the spotlight framing her perfectly. She wore a strapless wine-red dress that just hit the ground and was tailored perfectly to her body, accentuating her curves while giving her an air of elegance one would expect from an upscale lounge singer. And her voice was as enchanting as Shea had talked it up to be and then some. There was no doubt that every patron of that lounge had their attention fixed solely on the stage.

“So, what do you think?” Shea asked once the first song had ended.

Jaida grinned, her gaze never breaking away from the singer. “I think I’m in love,” she retorted.

Her friend looked at her and let out a soft laugh. “What, are you following in your husband’s–may he rest in peace–footsteps? She’s twenty-two.”

“Bitch, I’m forty, not eighty. This is a new chapter in my life, who’s to say I can’t include a hot twenty-something in it?” Jaida scoffed.

Shea finished off her drink. “You know what? I respect that. I’ll introduce you two once she’s done,” she decided.

And true to her word, Shea took Jaida backstage once Jan’s set was over. “Wonderful job, darling,” she said as she walked in. “Jan, I’d like you to meet my dear friend, Jaida. We met when we were both in college, so, back when we were about your age.”

Jan looked at Jaida, tilting her head. “Well, how’s that possible when you’re clearly not a day over twenty-five?”

Shea rolled her eyes. “Oh lord, I’ll leave you guys to it,” she said and left the two of them alone.

Jaida chuckled. “Don’t you worry about her,” she said to Jan. “But anyway, you really were fantastic out there. That fancy college degree I keep hearing about did you well.”

Jan smiled, absentmindedly twirling her hair around her finger. “Why thank you. With all the debt it plunged me into, it better.”

The older woman clicked her tongue sympathetically. “Shit, how far in the hole are you?”

“About thirty grand.”

Jaida glanced around, then sat down beside Jan. “Listen, don’t go telling nobody, but I got you. I’m a couple days away from coming into a lot of money, like, well into seven figures.” She didn’t give a specific number because she wasn’t entirely sure how it all worked, but she could hire someone to explain it to her.

Jan’s eyes went wide and her jaw hung open. “A-Are you sure? I mean, thank you, that’s so kind. But if you don’t mind me asking… How’d you come into that kind of money?”

“Inheritance,” she replied, biting back a smirk.

“That’s just… incredible. If there’s anything I can do to thank you…”

Jaida waved her hand, brushing the suggestion off. “You don’t have to do anything. But I wouldn’t say no if you wanted to let me buy you a drink when you’re done for the night.”

Jan fluttered her eyelashes and shifted closer to her. “Of course, I was hoping this might be a little more than a random philanthropic act.”

This brought a feeling of relief to Jaida, the last thing she wanted was for Jan to feel obligated to express romantic or sexual interest in her. “I’ll see you on the other side, then,” she hummed as she got up and returned to the lounge, ready to watch Jan on stage for the rest of her shift. The only time her gaze broke was to text her driver to be on his way.

And once it ended, the two of them reconvened at the bar, with Jaida ordering them both a drink. “So, have you always been a singer?” she asked casually.

“Oh yeah, since I was four.” Jan chuckled. “At the end of the day there was just no other choice for me.”

“I like a girl that knows what she wants out of life,” Jaida mused, taking the glass once it was set down in front of her and sipping from it.

Jan smiled, lips just barely pursed around the rim of the glass. She sipped slowly, then set it down as she looked at her. “Then tell me,” she prompted, “what do you want?” She leaned ever so slightly closer, a sultry air lacing around her words.

Jaida smirked, pointedly looking her over. “Something about five-foot-four, brown eyes, voice of an angel…” she listed, voice trailing off as she spoke. “You know, something along those lines.”

Jan set her glass down once it was empty. “You better be taking that something back to your place then,” she replied simply.

“I intend on it,” she hummed. “You ever been in a Rolls Royce?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen one.”

Jaida grinned, leaving cash down for the bartender before getting up. “Come, Ralph is waiting out back for us.”

Jan tilted her head as she followed. “Ralph?”

“My driver. I inherited the staff as well, but they all liked me better anyway.” She chuckled as they went outside and stepped into the car, exchanging casual greetings with the driver.

While Jan did try to keep her attention on Jaida, she was distracted by how luxurious and pristine the car was, and when they pulled up to Jaida’s house, her eyes went wide. “This is where you live?” she gasped softly.

“Not too shabby, huh?” Jaida hummed as they got out of the car. “A lot of the staff lives here, no point in having a bunch of empty rooms. And my sister’s moving in tomorrow,” she explained, leading her inside.

Jan was trying her best to listen, but taking in everything around her meant her focus was being pulled in six different directions. It reminded her of her first time in Manhattan — everything was big and shiny, but she didn’t think she could touch anything yet. The first thing her hand felt was the railing of the spiral staircase she was following Jaida up.

“And this is my room. It could do with an update, I ain’t gonna lie. But she’s comfy and spacious, can’t really complain.” Jaida hummed. She had been the one that had pushed for such a big bed, and although she was quick to adjust to sleeping in it alone, she was more than happy to bring in new company. She turned to see that Jan had taken off her shoes and thrown herself onto the bed, sprawled out on her back and giggling softly to herself. “Feel free to make yourself at home.”

“Sorry, it just looked so inviting. I couldn’t help myself,” Jan replied, sitting back up.

Jaida smiled as she toed out of her heels. “I’m not mad, you look good in my bed.” She hummed, letting her eyes rake over Jan’s body.

“I’d look even better up close,” she cooed, beckoning Jaida closer with a curl of her finger.

“You know, I think you’re right.” Jaida chuckled as she crawled onto the bed, then on top of Jan, straddling her waist as she kissed along her jawline.

Jan tilted her head back, baring her neck as Jaida’s lips traveled down it. A breathy gasp slipped out when Jaida began littering her neck with hickies until she finally moved up to kiss her properly.

Jaida kissed her hard, deeply. It was the first kiss in years that made her feel so alive, that made her keep going back for more because the taste of her lips became instantly addictive. Her fingers tangled in Jan’s hair, pulling her head closer while her free hand unzipped the younger woman’s dress.

Jan wiggled out of her dress, not wanting to have to break away from Jaida to take it off properly. Her hand wandered across Jaida’s back until she felt the metal of the zipper under her thumb, then unzipped the dress in a swift movement.

When they did have to come up for air, Jaida took another look at the girl beneath her. “You always wear lingerie like this under your work clothes?” she teased, her finger tracing along the outline of Jan’s lacy, strapless bra.

“It helps me stay in the zone. You know, the soft, sultry lounge singer.” She hummed, walking her fingers up Jaida’s arm. “And it seems to have worked,” she added, her fingers stopping on Jaida’s bra strap and playfully tugging it down.

“Guess you got me there,” Jaida murmured, pressing another kiss to her lips as she unhooked her bra and tossed it aside. Her hands glided forward, cupping Jan’s breasts with her thumbs massaging her nipples at a teasingly slow pace, smirking when it elicited a soft moan. She trailed her lips back down Jan’s neck, to her collarbone, then between her breasts.

Jan’s back arched up, body already yearning for more touch, and whimpering softly when she felt Jaida’s tongue swirling around her nipple. Her thighs instinctively parted as soon as Jaida pulled her panties down, but she was past the point of feeling any sort of embarrassment - she knew what she wanted and was ready for it.

And who was Jaida to do anything but give right in? After finally undressing herself, she nudged Jan’s thighs apart with her hand, then gently traced her finger along her folds. She eased one finger in first, curling and pumping it slowly, her eyes trained on Jan’s face, watching her get more and more worked up. “That’s it, good girl,” she murmured as she worked in a second finger and built up her pace. She looked down with amusement when she saw how Jan was thrusting her hips forward, as if she was trying to fuck herself on her fingers. “And so eager,” she teased.

“Just love the way you make me feel, Mommy,” Jan purred in a way that sent chills up Jaida’s spine.

Jaida smirked and leaned over to kiss her. “Cute,” she murmured before moving down between Jan’s legs and, before Jan could offer any response, she replaced her fingers with her tongue, thrusting it and swirling it around.

“F-Fuck!” Jan gasped out sharply, hips pushing up again. Her hands gripped the comforter beneath her, knuckles turning white from the tightness of her hold.

And Jaida was only encouraged by that. Her tongue moved steadily and swiftly while her thumb rubbed at her clit. Her free hand kept her balanced by gripping onto Jan’s thigh, which helped keep Jan in place as well.

Jan was trembling and moaning, her body was red hot and she could feel her pulse racing. Her eyes squeezed shut and her hips bucked up despite Jaida’s grip. “A-Ah, fuck!” she nearly yelled as her orgasm hit.

It was only after Jaida was certain Jan was fully spent that she came up for air. “That good, baby?” she cooed, running her hands up and down Jan’s body.

Jan felt like her soul had left her body, feeling completely numb and utterly spent in the best possible way. “So good,” she breathed out. Once she regained the ability to remember how to move, she sat up. “Let me take care of you,” she whispered, and was already pushing Jaida onto the bed before she could get an answer.

Not that Jaida would’ve ever dreamed of objecting. She laid back with her legs propped apart to give her room, and tried her best to watch her, but the second she felt Jan’s tongue against her pussy and easing its way in, her eyes fluttered shut and her body shuddered in pleasure. She supposed it didn’t surprise her that Jan was talented any way she used her mouth, but god, that girl was an overachiever.

And Jan was nothing if not eager to please. She didn’t let up for a second, not until Jaida came as hard as she had, and even after that, she lingered for a moment, just in case. Then she moved back up Jaida’s body and kissed her sweetly.

Jaida hummed contently and wrapped her arms around Jan. “That was so good, baby,” she praised gently, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before shifting so they could be under the covers. “Think you’re about ready to call it a night?”

Jan nodded, letting out a soft yawn. “God, I’m gonna sleep so well tonight,” she murmured as she nestled herself against Jaida.

“I sure hope so,” she retorted lightly as her eyes closed.

------

The housekeeper let Heidi in that morning, and Heidi didn’t think much of it. She knew her sister had never been a morning person, and they never did set a time for her to come over. Considering she didn’t need to bring any furniture, the transition to moving in was easily handled by herself, with some help from the security guard - she could only go up and down that long staircase so many times with arms full of luggage.

Once she was more or less settled in, Heidi went back downstairs to go into the kitchen with the intent of raiding Jaida’s fridge for some breakfast. What she didn’t expect to see was a white girl in one of her sister’s silk robes leaning against the counter and drinking coffee. “Now who in the fresh hell are you?”

Jan was unphased by this. “I’m Jan,” she answered. “You must be Heidi, Jaida’s told me so much about you.”

“Well she ain’t tell me shit about you, so my question remains unanswered,” she said bluntly.

“Right, that makes sense, since we just met last night,” Jan mused. “Anyway, I know you’re just moving in and stuff, I’ll go let Jaida know you’re here.” She finished her coffee and put the empty mug in the sink before going back upstairs, happy to see that Jaida was a little more awake than when she’d left. “Your sister’s here, by the way,” she said as she sat cross-legged on the bed.

Jaida sat upright. “This early? Damn. Well, I better make myself decent and go talk to her,” she said, getting out of bed and throwing on a t-shirt and sweatpants. “I won’t be long, boo.” She kissed her cheek before she made her way downstairs.

“You got some ‘splaining to do,” Heidi said as soon as Jaida came into her line of vision. “Now, who was that pretty little thing wanderin’ around here in next to nothing?”

“Jan’s the new singer at Shea’s lounge. Listen, I know it was fast but… I don’t know how to explain it, there’s something special about her. We had this connection that I just know is more than intimate.”

Heidi stared at her blankly. “Do you hear yourself right now? It hasn’t even been a month since the funeral and you’ve got a co-ed up in your room.”

Jaida sighed. “Look, I’m not planning on flaunting her out and about yet, but I’m not gonna deny myself just because the dirt on his grave is still fresh.” She chewed her lip. “This is the first time I’ve been happy in years, Heidi. I need you to let me have this.”

Her sister was quiet for a moment. “You really think this girl’s gonna make you that happy?”

“I do.”

“Then I won’t stop you.” Heidi gave in without any more resistance. “Just don’t go mixing any of that white powder into her drink, she seems real nice.”

Jaida rolled her eyes, then quickly glanced around to make sure they were alone. “Don’t you worry, arsenic milkshakes are off the menu.”

[hamanuelton]

my favorite parts of hamilton:

- “I imagine death so much it feels more like a memory.”

- every time Leslie Odom Jr. as aaron burr begins another part with “how did a bastard, orphan-“ or like in that same way ‘cause he doesn’t always start it that way but you know what I mean

- the way Leslie Odom Jr. as My Boi Burr™️ says “well, the world got around, they said, ‘this kid is insane, man!’”

- also when Leslie Odom Jr. as A. Burr says

“WHAT’S YOUR NAME, MAN?!”

- “our man saw his future drip-dripping down the drain, a pencil to his temple, connected it to his brain”

- “Alexander Hamilton. My name is Alexander Hamilton. And there’s a million things I haven’t done, but just you wait, just you wait...”

- background “just you wait, just you wait”’s as hammy’s putting on a new jacket and ensemble is praising nyc

- “and me? i’m the damn fool that shot him.”

- “Burr, sir” + the continuation of this all throughout

- “If you talk you’re gonna get shot” / FORESHADOWING WOOOEEEEWOOOOO

- “i’m John Laurens in the place to be”

- Lafayette’s fuckinf accent

- “BRRRAH! BRRAAAH! HERCULES MULLIGAN UP IN IT LOVIN IT”

- “if you stand for nothing, Burr, what’ll you fall for”

- “‘Onarchy?”

- hey, yo, i’m just like my country, i’m young, scrappy, and hungry—

- the way Odom Leslie Jr. as The Hamburrglar™️ says ‘shot’ and they all take a shot

- this ⤵️

- Hammy getting //flustered// about friendship

- WHEN ARE THESE COLONIES GONNA RISE UP

- Angelica’s face when Burr is tryna tell her bout herself and she shows him up and ships him out

- Act 1: 6. Farmer Refuted

- honorable mention: “my dog speaks more eloquently than thee!" "but strangely, your mange is the same." "is he in jersey?”

- King George pouting

- Jonathan Groff’s overarticulation of each syllable as King George is a work of art

- “♪ Da-da-da-dat-da-dat-da-da-da-dai-ah-da! ♪ Da-da-da-da-dai-ah-da! ♪

- “Everybody! —“

- “We keep meeting.”

- “i imagine death so much it feels more like a memory. when’s it gonna get me? in my sleep? seven feet ahead of me?”

- “See, I never thought I’d live past twenty.”

- “this is not a moment, it’s the movement”

- “I’m laughin’ in the face of casualties and sorrow, for the first time, I’m thinkin’ past tomorrow!”

- “dying is easy, young man, living is harder!”

- “i’m being honest. i’m working with a third of what our Congress promised.”

- “you need all the help you can get. i have some friends. Laurens, Mulligan, Marquis de Lafayette, okay, what else?” — “we’ll need some spies on the inside, some king’s men who might let some things slide.”

- “watch this obnoxious, arrogant, loudmouth bother be seated at the right hand of the father.”

- “Martha Washington named her feral tomcat after him” — “That’s true.”

- “Yo, if your marry a sister, you’re rich, son!” — “Is it a question of ‘if’, Burr, or which one?” and then the little ‘hey’ ‘hey’ thing they do gets me every time

- literally the use of yo throughout the production fucking gets me every single fucking time

- “i’m writin’ a letter nightly. now my life gets better, every letter that you write me. — THE PURE UNBRIDLED SENSE OF FORESHADOWING IN “laughin’ at my sister, cuz she wants to form a harem” — ft. “i’m just sayin’, if you really loved me, you would share him!”

- the irony in “Eliza, i don’t have a dollar to my name”, you’ll be on the $10 bill, my man

- top-notch brain

- Angelica TRIED TO TAKE A BITE OF ME

- the way Anthony Ramos as John Laurens says “alright, alright. that’s what i’m talkin’ about!” and also the face that he makes

- hunger-pang frame

- “You strike me as a woman who has never been satisfied.” — “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean. You forget yourself.” — “You’re like me. I’m never satisfied.” — “Is that right?” — “I have never been satisfied.” — “My name is Angelica Schuyler.” — “Alexander Hamilton.” — “Where’s your fam’ly from?” — “Unimportant. There’s a million things I haven’t done but just you wait, just you wait...”

- tbh the way ‘Schuyler’ is spelled is oddly satisfying to me

- honestly just the way LMM says Alexander Hamilton+/ my name is Alexander Hamilton, and there’s a million things i haven’t done, ‘just you wait, just you wait...’ throughout the production

- “i’m the oldest and the wittiest and the gossip in new york city is insidious”

- “You are the worst, Burr.”

- Act 1: 12. The Story of Tonight (Reprise)

- “love doesn’t discriminate, between the sinners and the saints, it takes and it takes and it takes”

- “love doesn’t discriminate, between the sinners and the saints, it takes and it takes and it takes and we keep living anyway. we rise and we fall and we break and we make our mistakes. and if there’s a reason i’m still alive when everyone who loves me has died—“

- “Chick-a-plao!”

- the way they say ‘raise a glass’ is both elegant and (appropriately) reverent

- “i go back to new york and my apprenticeship” — i shouted MY BOI HERCULES MULLIGAN UP IN IT LOVIN IT DID NOT JUST SAY THAT, IF HE ACTUALLY LEFT AND ISN’T JUST UNDERCOVER OR SOME SHIT IMMA WRITE LIN-MANUEL MIRANDA A STRONGLY WORDED LETTER

- the minute General Charles Les came into the picture i hated him so hard, even though his literal first word was ‘Whee!!!!’, though i can appreciate the sentiment and what LMM was tryna do there

- “Washington cannot be left to his devices indescisive, from crisis to crisis” — sweet baby jesus that alliteration, and jon rua totally pulled it off (i hate General Charles Lee not the person who played him, i can also appreciate the fact that as an actor it takes a lot of talent to be able to make you hate a character so easily, also shoutout to Jonathan Groff as King Georgey-Boy™️, Sydney James Harcourt as james reynolds, and the general way LMM somehow made me fed up/turn on Alexander with the whole scene with him and Maria Reynolds — and not only that but somehow redeemed himself to me which is easier said than done for characters and people alike.. i’ve been hurt too much to play like that.

- Act 1: 15. Ten Duel Commandments

- honorable mention: “if you don’t reach peace, that’s alright. time to get some pistols and a doctor on site. you pay him in advance, you treat him with civility. you have him turn around so he can have deniability.”

- Act 1: 17. That Would Be Enough

- honorable mention: the melody that LMM went with for that turn of phraseis a truly beautiful thing

- “Immigrants:” — “We get the job done.”

- THE FACT THAT MY MAIN MAN HERCULE MULLIGAN WAS ON THE INSIDE NOT ONLY DID I CALL IT BUT DAMN HE REALLY GOT THAT GOOD HOT TRIBUTE HE DESERVED

- “To my brother’s a revolutionary covenant! I’m runnin’ with the sons of liberty and I am lovin’ it! See, that’s what happens when you up against the ruffians. We’re in the shit now, somebody gotta shovel it! Hercules Mulligan, I need no introduction, when you knock me down I get the fuck back up again!”

- Act 1: 21. What Comes Next

- honorable mention: “i’m so blue” — the little squat that Groffsauce does as the light turns blue really got to me

- Act 1: 22. Dear Theodosia

- Leslie Odom Jr.’s voice is so ding dang delightfully airy

- honorable mention: “You have my eyes. You have your mother’s name. When you came into the world, you cried and it broke my heart.”

- Act 1: 23. Non-Stop

- as someone with siblings i can appreciate that they’re bickering like that’s just what they are

- “I was chosen for the constitutional convention! *squeal*”

- “Burr, we studied and we fought and we killed for the notion of a nation we now get to build. For once in your life, take a stand with pride. I don’t understand how you stand to the side.”

- Act 2: 1. What’d I Miss?

- honorable mention: “But the sun comes up and the world still spins.”

- Act 2: 2. Cabinet Battle #1

- honorable mention: “DOIN’ WHATEVER THE HELL IT IS YOU DO IN MONTICELLO!”

- tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow

- “Daddy, daddy, look.... My name is Philip. I am a poet. I wrote this poem just to show it. And I just turned nine. You can write rhymes but you can’t write mine.” - “What!” - “I practice French and play piano with my mother.” — “Uh-huh!” — “I have a sister but I want a little brother.” — “Okay!” — “My daddy’s trying to start America’s bank. Un deux trois quatre cinq!” — “Bravo!” — “Hey, our kid is pretty great.”

- as much as i hate Act 2: 4. Say No To This (because for some reason i though Alexander Hamilton was better than that) Jasmine Cephas Jones sings in it is like a hot knife through butter — namely; “My husband’s doin’ me wrong beatin’ me, cheatin’ me, mistreatin’ me...”... I guess maybe I understand it ‘cause damn Jasmine Cephas Jones is so ding dang pretty and ding dang talented and wow what a remarkable person

- the way that Lin says “And her body’s saying, ‘hell, yes’ is um.. 😓

- “You see, that was my wife you decided to” — “Fuuuu—“

- Act 2: 5. The Room Where It Happens

- honorable mention: “Bros.”

- “Talk less. Smile more.” LMM being a dramatic bastard

- Act 2: 6. Schuyler Defeated

- Act 2: 7. Cabinet Battle #2

- “revolution is messy but now is the time to stand."

- honorable mention: “Ooh!!”

- “We signed a treaty with a King whose head is now in a basket. Would you like to take it out and ask it? ‘Should we honor our treaty, King Louis’ head?’ ‘Uh... do whatever you want, I’m super dead.’”

- Thomas Jefferson all like “but sir do we not fight for freedom” MY BAD SIR YOU ARE A SLAVE-OWNER HOW ABOUT YOU NOT

- mentioning Lafayette because apparently LMM has no problem with breaking the fourth wall

- “Daddy’s calling.”

- “I’m in the cabinet. I am complicit in watching him grabbin’ at power and kiss it. If Washington isn’t gon’ listen to disciplined dissidents, this is the difference. This kid is out!”

- “Southern motherfuckin’ Democratic-Republicans!”

- “The emperor has no clothes.”

- “Sir, I don’t know what you heard but whatever it is Jefferson started it.” — “Thomas Jefferson resigned this morning.” — “You’re kidding.” — “I need a favor.” — “Whatever you say, sir, Jefferson will pay for his behavior.” — “I’ll use the press. I’ll write under a pseudonym, you’ll see what I can do to him—“ — “Yes! He resigned you can finally speak your mind!” — “Ha. Good luck defeating you, sir.” - “I’m sorry, what?”

- Act 2: 10. I Know Him

- “—Vice President.” — “— No more Mr. Nice President.”

- “Sit down, John, you fat motherf—“

- Act 2: 12. We Know

- honorable mention: “You see that was my wife you decided to—“ — “WHAT—“

- Act 2: 13. Hurricane

- Act 2: 14. The Reynolds Pamphlet

- honorable mention: *DEEP VOICE* “DAMN”

- Act 2: 15. Burn

- i’ll be the first to say i wasn’t a huge fan of Eliza at first aside from Phillipa Soo’s killer voice

- this gave me a lot of respect for her

- honorable mention: “You have married an Icarus. He has flown too close to the sun.”

- Act 2: 16. Blow Us All Away

- i would like to point out that tweet where someone @‘s LMM about not mentioning Philip’s hot and he responds “I’M FAIRLY F**CKING SURE I DID”, y’know ⤵️

- “The ladies say my brain’s not where the resemblance stops.”

- “God, you’re a fox.”

- Act 2: 17. Stay Alive (Reprise)

- The ‘I know, I know. Shh.’ and the full circle back to his mom teaching him french on the piano really got to me for the beautiful artistry in it but also damn them feels

- Act 2: 18. It’s Quiet Uptown

- “I spend hours in the garden. I walk alone to the store and it’s quiet uptown. I never liked the quiet before. I take the children to church on Sunday, a sign of the cross at the door, and I pray. That never used to happen before.”

- “Philip, you would like it uptown. It’s quiet uptown.”

- “You knock me out, I fall apart.”

- “Eliza, do you like it uptown? It’s quiet uptown.”

- “There are moments that the words don’t reach. There is suffering too terrible to name. You hold your child as tight as you can and push away the unimaginable. The moments when you’re in so deep it feels easier to just swim down.”

- “There are moments that the words don’t reach. There is a grace too powerful to name. We push away what we can never understand. We push away the unimaginable.”

- “Can you imagine?”

- Act 2: 19. The Election of 1800

- honorable mention: “And they say I’m a Francophile: at least they know I know where France is!”

- “You used to work on the same staff” — “Whaaaat.”

- “Honestly, it’s kind of draining.” — “Burr...” — “Sir!” — “Is there anything you wouldn’t do?” — “No. I’m chasing what I want. And you know what?” — “What?” — “I learned that from you.” / this moment made the blow that he voted for Jefferson like a damn hole in my chest and i actually really felt for Burr. i get Hammy’s reluctance, i think if anything he was hoping voting for Jefferson would give Burr the chance to have experience as VP and then the next election he might vote for him then depending

- Act 2: 20. Your Obedient Servant

- A. Burr

- A. Ham

- “I just need to write something down.” / really resonated as one of the last things they showed him doing before going off to the duel, his life really was writing and that was the perfect way to say that in a very subtle sort of way. i really appreciate it artistically, whether it was intentionally so or not.

- Act 2: 22. The World Was Wide Enough

- okay but first of all i would like to comment on the fact that Ariana DeBose PLAYS THE GODDAMN BULLET, I JUST

- THE FACT THAT THE BULLET HAS A PART

- “This man will not make an orphan of my daughter.” / this made me really sympathize with Burr, as well as when he tries to go towards Hamilton (at least in the play but I sincerely hope that was historically accurate) / but also that fact that Theodosia Burr was lost at sea at 29 makes me sad because Hamilton’s life was taken to give her one and then she just up and disappears in a freak accident

- Act 2: 23. Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story

- the orphanage got to me

- i loved that he (LMM) didn’t end it with himself or anything

- he let Phillipa Soo tear my heart out

- it killed me but i died quite happily

- and really what more could you ask for.

[thecandywrites]

Isthantari- The Series- Kiara

Yo, so this is a commission for @jasura and their lovely oc Kiara who I’ve paired with Jarek, who is, again, a smooth as fuck Jika who thinks that she and her art are THE BEST THING EVER. IT’S SO SWEET AND FLUFFY. And I had a blast. Thanks for letting me do this for you @jasura. Enjoy. 

Isthantari Series- Kiara and Jarek

You were in the park, sketching the flowers in the park when a shadow seemed to suddenly loom over you and when you looked up, something quickly flew just out of your field of vision and you were too slow moving your head trying to catch it before a figure suddenly seemed to pop into existence in front of you.

“Hello.” A deep, smooth voice greeted you as your head seemed to snap forward again as your eyes suddenly focused on a pair of knees on black and yellow stripped legs but the black had the most gorgeous sheen of purple to it, like some exotic beetle as your eyes got wider as your line of sight slowly raked up this figure, all seven feet of it to it’s face and if you had been standing, your knees would have gone weak. Holy shit, when did Jika get that handsome?

“H-hi.” You greeted back, it wasn’t everyday you felt dainty, small and delicate but sitting in front of this magnificent and outright regal looking creature, you did and then it’s mandibles moved so that you could see it smile and you swooned.

“I like your drawing.” It complimented you as it gestured to your sketchpad with one of it’s four hands.

“Thank you.” You thanked him, you always loved compliments to your art.

“And your tattoos are stunning.” He added as he gestured to your arms and shoulders as you self consciously touched them.

“Thank you.” You thanked him again. “Your coloring is stunning too.” You blurted before you wanted to face palm yourself.

“Thank you.” He thanked you as he stood a little straighter as his chest seemed to puff out a little as his wings fluttered a little.

“I should probably introduce myself, I’m Jarek Kizu.” He introduced himself as he held a hand out to you before you felt a force seem to pull you up to your feet as you put your things aside and shook his hand, his larger hands dwarfing yours but the exoskeleton on his hands was smooth like glass and surprisingly warm.

“I’m Kiara.” You answered as he seemed particularly pleased to learn that.

“Beautiful name, it suits you.” Jarek praised as your cheeks blushed scarlet as you were pretty sure your knees were going to be knocking together any moment.

“Do you mind if I join you?” He asked as he gestured to the bench.

“Oh, please do,” you invited as you gratefully sat down and scooted over to allow him to sit down, which he did, his abdomen tucking under himself so he could sit on it before you two had a lovely discussion about your art and your tattoos and you got to know each other as you two seemed to click instantly and before you knew it, he invited you out to have dinner with him as the afternoon turned into evening.

“Absolutely, where?” You asked as you looked around to see if there were any vegetarian restaurants nearby that you wouldn’t hate to go to, because you thought you knew that Jika were vegetarian.

“Actually there is a lovely seafood place nearby.” Jarek said as he gestured in a particular direction as you snapped your head back to him in surprise.

“Really? I thought Jika were vegetarian?” You asked, your voice becoming a little smaller as your confidence in that idea began to wane.

“Usually we are, but we love seafood, in particular shell fish. But I understand that some humans are allergic to it, are you allergic to seafood or shellfish?” He asked as he realized he should have asked that before suggesting it.

“No, I love it actually.” You smiled excitedly.

“Then let’s go.” He invited as he stood up and held his hand out to you.

“Um, my car is that way,” you pointed to your car.

“It would be faster if we flew, if you would permit me to carry you.” Jarek suggested as you eyes went wide in excitement before you seemed to remember that you were pretty thicc and the idea of anyone carrying you without hurting themselves had always been a factor before.  

“Uh, I don’t know, I’m pretty heavy.” You grimaced.

“I sincerely doubt you’re heavier than what I can carry.” He reassured you.

“Well how much can you carry?” You asked him curiously.

“In human terms, about 40 thousand pounds, roughly two hundred times my own body weight, you look appear to be a very tiny fraction of that.” He answered proudly as he seemed to take in your body appreciatively, if not a touch salaciously and your jaw dropped.

“Yeah, you know what? I’ll totally let you carry me, I’d love to go flying.” You smiled brightly as you put your things in your bag.

“How would you like to be carried?” He asked. “I can either carry you with your back to my chest so that it will look like you’re the one flying of your own power or I can carry you, I believe the term is bridal style.” He offered.

“Like I’m flying please,” you giggled with glee as you changed your purse to go across your chest so that nothing would fall out of it as he came up behind you and wrapped all four of his arms around you securely.

“I’ll take off whenever you’re ready Kiara.” He practically purred in your ear which sent a shiver down your spine and you felt your panties go wet in your jeans.

“I’m ready.” You insisted before he lifted you off the ground and you couldn’t help but squeal in delight as you were suddenly flying above the tops of the trees as you looked around and took in the scenery, trying to get your brain to record this so you would have flying dreams in the future. This was the best feeling ever. You felt so free. True to his word he set you down right outside the restaurant and then opened the door for you and got a table for the two of you.

You watched as he ordered half the menu so to speak, and absolutely insisted you order whatever your heart desired and that money was of little consequence to him so you ordered what you wanted and really went all out on yourself. To your delight, he got a bottle of delicious wine which you two shared the bottle and when the food came, while he did like the flesh, you realized it was the shells of the seafood he was really after, so he traded a lot of the meat to his crab legs for your shells, or let you enjoy the oysters and mussels while he ate the shells and same went for the shrimp too which worked out well and both of you stuffed yourselves and didn’t have any left overs despite ordering what you did. When you were done, he paid for dinner and walked you back out only now it was a bit chillier than it was earlier as the sun began to set as shivered.

“Are you cold?” He asked you as he noticed the shiver.

“Yeah, I should have brought a jacket.” You stroked your arms.

“Well here, hang on,” he offered as he pulled you off the side of the building away from the crowds before he lifted your arms and then himself off the ground and the stinger in his abdomen disappeared and was replaced with a silk spinning gland and he literally spun a long hooded coat for you right there on the spot. It was warm and super soft and your smile got almost impossibly big because of how amazing this was as he buzzed around you, making sure it fit you perfectly and when he was done he landed and appraised his work.

“There? Is this suitable for you Kiara?” He asked hopefully.

“Yes! It’s perfect! I love it, this is amazing.” You beamed as you took the edges of it and wrapped it around you, practically melting into it’s warm softness. You would never want to take it off now.

“Good, then let me take you back to your car then.” He offered before he picked you up, bridal style this time. You didn’t feel any of the nip in the air even at altitude, simply to your face which was the only skin visible, the sleeves were long enough to cover your arms and hands completely, and the way it wrapped around you like a blanket meant that even your shoes were covered as you cuddled into his chest. You were not expecting Prince Charming to drop out of the sky but he had. And you didn’t really think of yourself as attracted to aliens but you were, to him at least.

He dropped you off at your car and you exchanged phone numbers and made plans for another date and then he kissed you. He meant to kiss you chastely, at least you were pretty sure he did, but god damn, that kiss seemed to only ignite something in you both before you knew it, he had you picked up and pinned to the side of your car and the kiss was deep and electric and what felt like an eternity yet all too soon, he slowed down to a stop, just enough to leave you breathless.

“Wow,” you both breathed as you both suddenly grinned wide.

“Jinx.” You giggled.

“You’ve met my brother?” Jarek tilts his head as his smile vanishes into a frown.

“What? You have a brother named Jinx?” You asked in confusion.

“Oh, are you talking about the curse ‘jinx’?” Jarek asked as he accessed the hive mind to get the information on the human term ‘jinx’.

“It’s not a real curse, it’s more of a silly game,” you corrected as he slowly and carefully put you back down and you feel a little panicked like you ruined the mood.

“Oh,” Jarek nodded in understanding.

“And you’re the first Jika I’ve met that had a name, other than a number.” You explained.

“Oh, ok.” Jarek nodded in understanding again as he seemed...actually very relieved to hear that as that seemed confusing to you before he departed from you pleasantly and made plans to see you again in a day or two.

However it wasn’t even 10 hours before he was with you again and for a week you nearly spent all day every day with him until today, you invited him to your place, showing him your tiny art studio as he looked at all your art in awed wonder. And practically bought you out. Thank god you had that card reader on your phone as he happily slid his card and tipped you a thousand dollars per piece of art. Which was substantially more than your art was priced for. He literally set you up for a year and now you could afford to go to the art supply store and buy whatever you wanted.

“Wow, you’re incredible! Really, really talented.” He praised as he looked it over excitedly while also holding your cat Tabatha who seemed very pleased to have three hands scratching her and petting her while one arm held her comfortably as you beamed happily as you walked around, the coat he made for you, wrapped around you like a robe, actually it was so soft you had slept in it naked and wore it constantly all week and it had been a dream, you had never slept so peacefully before, even silk sheets were nothing compared to this robe.

“If you like that garment so well, I can make you more.” Jarek offered as he noticed your affinity for it.

“Really?” You asked excitedly.

“Yes, as a non consort, I don’t have to reserve my silk for the queen, I can use it for whatever I wish. If it will make you happy and pleases you, I will happily make you whatever you wish.” Jarek offered.

“Non consort?” You repeated in confusion.

“Are you not aware of the Jika hierarchy?” He asked as you shook your head ‘no’.

“You should take a seat then,” he suggested as the two of you sat on the futon in your studio. “You see, I’m what the English equivalent is a prince. I was born in the royal batch, with the former queen, I was bred to be a potential consort to her, to mate with her as she wished, take care of her, surround her in a giant nest made from my silk and all the other silk from all the other consorts, my sole purpose of existence is to serve her. Take care of her physical person, feed her, clean her, surround her in comfort and take care of her and make sure that every need, want and desire she would ever have would be fulfilled. But a queen only needs so many consorts and the batch, as a precaution, is usually given a few dozen consorts so she is spoiled for choice to choose who she wants, in fact the first several years of our lives are spent growing up with her and learning her and what she wants and then another few are spent making her the most spectacular gifts in winning her favor. If she chooses us, we become completely devoted to her and she becomes our Isthantari and she uses her scent, the pheromones in her scent specifically to control us and our mind atrophies into that of a drone but we win the right that our genetics get passed on through mating.” He explained as your eyes went wide and your jaw dropped in surprise.

“So because you weren’t a consort, your brain stays developed but you don’t get to breed?” You asked, trying to make sense of that before he smiled with just a hint of mischief.

“Well, actually, I still can breed, I just don’t need to be as devoted to her as her consorts would be, instead I serve her by serving the hive, my job is easy and the mental work load is very light and boredom is my biggest enemy, what my batch mates, or brothers as you would call them, are finding is that we can actually have very fulfilling lives outside the hive and a few of my brothers have found mates, their very own Isthantaris, that are actually human and their Isthantaris are just as devoted to my brothers as they are to them, which is a relationship dynamic that is extremely appealing. You see just because a queen could choose me as a consort, does not mean she’s attached to me emotionally, she would use me to serve her, that is all that she would view me as. Never an equal, always a slave. But as a royal batch, I am no slave to the queen or the hive mind for that matter. In fact I am very relieved she didn’t choose me.” He explained.

“What does Isthantari mean?” You felt compelled to ask.

“It roughly translates to ‘one I am devoted to for life’, but isth, has two meanings, when in the whole word it means devoted, by itself it means sex or to mate with and the word encompasses both meanings.” Jarek explained.

“So is that what you’re looking for? An Isthantari to be just as devoted to you as you are to her?” You asked.

“Yes.” Jarek confirmed. “And you actually fit it remarkably well,” he smiled proudly.

“What?” You giggled as you felt your cheeks heat up as your heat fluttered in your chest.

“Yes, your scent, it’s extremely good, you smell like a queen, even your name is that of a queen, all queens, their names always start with the ‘k’ sound and when translated into English, always start with K and Kiara is very sought after name for a queen, there have been many great Queen Kiaras. But back to your scent, which is more important than your name, is what attracted me initially, I could smell your scent on the breeze a mile away and I purposefully tried to find you the moment I caught it and I was so happy to learn that you were single and that it is your wonderful, creative personality that has kept my attention and I’m finding myself enraptured by you. Your art is spectacular, your personality is everything I could ever hope for and what you may not know is the queen is supposed to be very, very large, like so large, she’s immobile and can’t move on her own and has to be carried if she has to be moved or stays put. Her exoskeleton is supposed to be paper thin, it feels like the membrane of those Tide pods, that kind of thin, your own epidermis is much thicker by comparison. In fact if she were to try to get tattoos, it would kill her because it would breach her exoskeleton and her innards would ooze out and she would die. In fact if I were to try to get a tattoo, the same could happen to me, the fact that humans have their skeletons on the inside and centers of their tissues is a wonder and the fact that you can have such amazing things as tattoos is...I’m very jealous, you could say. So it is also because you are a bigger female, is also extremely attractive and I’m finding my instincts to serve you as my Isthantari to be quite strong, stronger than they ever were for the former queen or even the current one. But I do not wish to scare...” he tried to tell you before you practically climbed into his lap and kissed him for all you were worth and smiled into the kiss when all four of his arms wrapped around you as he kissed you back passionately.

“You need to tell me to stop.” Jarek pleaded desperately as you realized he seemed to be in pain.

“Why?” You asked breathlessly.

“Because if you keep kissing me like that, I’m going to want to mate with you and I think you should probably get to know me better before you make that kind of...” He tried to point out before you were kissing him again and grinding yourself on his lap as you opened the robe like coat and pressed your body up against him.

“Tell me about mating.” You asked once you broke for air.

“Well, I know for a fact we’re physically compatible and the other Isthantari’s enjoy it very much.” He said as he stroked your body as you felt yourself melting at his touch.

“Can I see?” You asked hopefully before he scoot you back a little and finally let his genitalia become exposed, sighing in relief once they were out as they continued to engorge.

“Wow!” You said as you looked down in awed amazement at it. It was...beautiful actually before you slipped down to kneel on the floor so you could get a better view, his cock was the real work of art here.

“But, again you need to know something.” He tried to tell you as you reached out and started stroking his cock as you could tell he was barely hanging onto sanity.

“Hm?” You hummed smugly as you fingered the slit at the head and watched as his whole body shudder.

“If you were to become my Isthantari, it could be dangerous, the current queen, she is very strong but she is vicious, because you smell better than she does, she could take that as you being a rival, you could...oh...” He tried to warn you before you reached forward and licked the head and grinned when you tasted a fruity yet minty flavor coming from his pre-cum. Like some kind of gum, like a slightly minty twist to juicy fruit. It was actually very delicious, way tastier than any other cock you’d sucked.

“She could try to h-hurt you but I would protec-ct, you,” he vowed as you started sucking on it as your eyes flicked up to see a duct suddenly appear at the center of his collar bone and what looked like a mango puree came dribbling out.

“What’s that?” You asked as you pointed to it.

“My royal jelly, consorts produce royal jelly to feed the queen while mating, it’s unique among individuals, if she likes the flavor, she’ll usually mate longer and more often to us.” He explained before you stripped out of your clothes and crawled into his lap and slowly and carefully seated yourself onto his cock and moaned in delight when he stretched you perfectly before you leaned forward and licked it and you giggled.

“Does it please you?” He asked hopefully.

“Yes, very much so, it tastes like a cherry milkshake, it’s really, really good.” You told him before you closed your mouth around the duct and sucked and moaned again when more came into your mouth as Jarek grabbed your hips and started moving you with one set of hands while the other stroked and massaged your body which felt just as heavenly as his dick grinding deliciously in your pussy did. It was when he picked you up to kneel into the futon to let you rest your back against the back of it so he could drive into you harder that you nearly lost all control of yourself, fuck. He was good, he was a virgin and he was good. Like your toes were curling, your orgasm was quickly approaching you trying your best to suck down that downright addictive royal jelly in between wanton moans as you clung to him and he clung to you and you felt like delightful electricity was coursing through your body, giving you a delightful love drunk buzz. It was fantastic. And the more aroused you felt, the more you loosened up and the deeper he was able to drive into you comfortably and the tingly sensation his genitals gave yours only enhanced your own sensations and brought you higher in ecstasy than you had ever felt before, even being fully inspired and able to hyper-focus on your art didn’t feel this good. You were on the brink of being overwhelmed and were flirting hard with over-stimulation but you felt like you would die if you stopped having sex with him right now.

You felt the knot like base trying to stretch your entrance and you longed to have it pop inside, you wanted that knot more than your lungs craved air and more than your tongue craved royal jelly as you tried to spread your legs as wide as you could and open yourself up to it and just as he grabbed you by the waist and thighs and pushed you down forcefully, it popped inside and in place and it sent you over the edge and you were suddenly plunged into bliss as he emptied his seed into you as his royal jelly overflowed your mouth, the precious liquid escaping the corners of your mouth as your cheeks bulged full as you fought to breathe and gulp it down just as fast as it was flowing into your mouth. It took over a minute to gulp it all down before you pulled away to lick up the excess and pant to catch your breath and your teasing licks to his duct caused him to shudder and giggle while moaning at the same time as he pet your hair and his antennae tapped around your head gently.

“How do you feel my Isthantari?” He cooed to you as all four of his hands stroked you lovingly.

“Amazing, like, I’ve never felt this good before,” you giggled as you stretched out, still feeling the ethereal delight flooding your system and it was downright amazing before you looked down and gulped at your distended lower belly, like you were pregnant, but you didn’t feel any pain or discomfort. After a few long moments, his genitalia seemed to recede as the knot popped out and you felt like a gallon of his cum came pouring out of you. You should be in all kinds of pain right now but instead, there was a twinge of relief of not being so stuffed with disappointment that he wasn’t in you anymore. But his cum was actually very beautiful, he set you down on the futon next to it as you ran your fingers through it, giggling again at the texture of it and marveling at it’s holographic nature before you wondered what it would look like on a canvas as you suddenly scooped it up and spread it onto a canvas, noticing how the colors could change depending on how thick or thin it was against the white canvas before you put it on black paper to see what it would do and gasped when the most amazing colors seemed to glow off the paper before he informed you of the other benefits and applications that the other Isthantari’s had found from Jika cum and you giddily applied it to yourself and then he disappeared for a few moments while you continued to play with it.

“Jarek? You ok?” You asked as you left your studio to go into the rest of the apartment to find him applying a thick layer of his silk to your bed.

“Aww, are you making me a nest?” You cooed when you saw it.

“Yes, I hope that’s ok.” He admitted as he was making the built in blanket part of it.

“Of course it’s ok, I love it, it’s so soft.” You beamed happily as you came over and wiped your hands off on a rag so you wouldn’t get cum on it as you touched it reverently.

Over the course of the next few weeks, he practically moved in and made you a wardrobe, paid off all your debt, even your art school college loans and rent and when you met the other Isthantari’s, they were very welcoming as the ‘Isthantari Club’ got a little bigger as you showed them the art you made out of Jika cum as you got to meet Jarek’s brother Jinx and his Isthantari who introduced herself as Panda which considering her black and white hair, like Cruella DeVile, but she was perfectly awesome.  Dr. Emily Kimble gave you all warnings about how to behave while on the ship and how to behave if you were to ever meet the queen and to wear lots of deodorant and perfume if you ever did too as she continued to compile the data on your relationships and used all of your collective discoveries on uses for Jika cum and flavors of royal jelly. It was epic and the foods cooked out of Jika foods were out of this world delicious as Sable and Lenore went over the Jika foods and their preparations which was exciting and you were so relieved and excited that you felt like you belonged to a family, but one that was more family found rather than blood related which was preferable to you anyway.

[elitespacefreak]

You Remind Me of Andromeda - Pt. 1

I’m so so so very excited to finally post this little ficlet for the lovely miss @heart-chime ! She sent in an ask a little while ago that I absolutely fell in love with and of course I had to be super extra, so in addition to the list of headcanons, here’s part one of an accompanying Zim x Reader ficlet - plus the first half of a playlist!

The postcard thing will make more sense in part two~

It wasn’t that you thought astronomy was a totally useless class – it was actually fairly refreshing considering you were a hardcore medical student. But dear god you sometimes just did not have the brain power to remember things. Intensive details about human anatomy? Sure, no problem. The name of one obscure astronomical event that happens only every how many years?

Jesus you weren’t Stephen Hawking.

“Who can tell me which galaxy is the most prominent during autumn?”

Did you even know the names of any other galaxies? Like if Billy Eichner ran up to you in the middle of the street and asked, you were pretty sure you wouldn’t be getting that dollar.

“Andromeda.”

“Thank you, Zim.”

Ah yes, the resident space nerd, who was constantly screwing with the grading curve on quizzes. But even though you rolled your eyes you found yourself smiling. He might have been from another planet but somehow his intelligence was still incredibly attractive despite your expecting it.

Gretchen, your best friend since middle school, elbowed you from her seat with a raise of her perfectly groomed eyebrows. When you shrugged your shoulders at her she tilted her towards Zim, prompting you to quietly ask her again, before she huffed and waved you off and went back to pretending to be taking notes on her laptop. You were pretty sure she was reading an article on astrology. Zodiac compatibilities or whatever.

For a solid five minutes you completely zoned out, staring off in the direction of the whiteboard while students were called up to mark on a drawn map of the current night sky. They were labeling minor constellations according to what could currently be seen within a few degrees of the horizon. Two or three other kids were invested enough to fill out the map, aside from Zim and Dib, who did most of the work.

Dib was a good kid, he came around after he grew up. You weren’t totally savvy as to what happened, but you and Gretchen came back from summer camp one year and he and Zim were joined at the hip – in a good way. After that Gretchen had an absolute glow up and turned into a modern day, purple-haired Aphrodite. And Dib fell hard. It was always so cute watching them fall in love with each other over and over again.

As your thoughts continued to drift so did your eyes, and they fell on the boys at the front of the room, your mind making a passing comment on Dib’s new jacket Gretchen got him for Christmas before landing on Zim.

He’d grown, a lot. He was just a hair under six feet – and nobody ever heard the end of it – and he’d finally ditched the raspberry uniform. It had always looked good on him, like most things did, but human clothes fit him well, even if he was too stubborn to hide the green skin. He hadn’t needed to tell you, you’d figured it out on your own pretty quickly, but even after he came to terms with you knowing he still wouldn’t take your advice on investing in a more practical disguise. That was fine though, he was a really nice shade of green and –

“You’re free to go, just don’t forget you’ve got a quiz due before midnight tomorrow. If anyone needs to speak with me about the final project I’ll be in my office today after three.”

You blinked back to reality, lifting your head off your hand. “Well time really flies when you’re having fun, huh?”

Dib peeked over his shoulder to make sure the teacher wasn’t looking before vaulting over the row of desks in front you to grab his things. “Fun? You looked bored as fuck.”

Zim laughed beside him, tucking away his laptop. “Earth to Dr. Cameron, hello~”

“Oh knock it off, you know that show’s not real,” you chided, matching his cheeky smile with your own. “I was paying attention the entire time.”

Him and Dib both gave you a hard time as you followed them out of the classroom. Gretchen was still making faces at you and nodded her head at Zim without saying anything, and you continued to raise your eyebrows in confusion.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, making the boys turn around curiously. “Hey, why don’t we stop by Starbucks and get coffee? It’s lunch so we should be able to snag a table, clearly somebody needs to study.”

Before you could interject about how you were going to ace that quiz Zim was chanting ‘frappaccino’ and Dib was mimicking an echo behind him. They were so dumb sometimes but god did you love them. Even when they were shuffling out of the building to the beat of a song blaring from Zim’s headphones.

You took Gretchen’s hand and pulled her along, lacing your fingers together so you wouldn’t get pulled apart by the crowd. “Come on, we’re getting left behind.”

She pretended to look around and act confused. “By who? I don’t know them.”

--

The line at Starbucks was backed up to the door, but people were in and out for the lunch rush and Gretchen piled all of your belongings onto a table for keeps where she could watch it from a distance. While the four of you creeped along the snaking rows of students you were grilled on potential quiz material.

“Oh come on, I’m supposed to study first. This isn’t fair –”

“Life isn’t fair, which constellation is the star Vega located in?”

“What? I don’t –”

“Wrong.”

“How many stars make up the big dipper?”

“Oh god, uh…”

“Wrong. What kind of star is Arcturus?”

“Umm, I can’t remember – ”

“Wrong again.”

“Wow you’re gonna fail.”

Gretchen smacked her boyfriend on the arm and glared at him. “Your job is to help, not antagonize.”

Zim waved her off and draped his arm around your shoulders. “Relax, she’ll be fine, I’m easily the most qualified tutor here anyway~”

“Exactly,” you said, wrapping an arm around his waist as you leaned into him with a smile.

You couldn’t see it because Zim was taller than you and you’d have to crane your neck to see his face from this angle. But the other two saw, saw the way his cheeks dusted just a shade darker, his eyes lit up, and the corner of his mouth twitched until his smile was lopsided. You didn’t know his light cough was corrective, but they did.

Gretchen shook her head goodnaturedly. “Yeah, if you say so. Now turn around so that poor barista doesn’t have to yell, she looks like she needs a nap.”

As you fumbled for your phone to pull up your Starbucks app you felt Zim’s arm slide off your shoulder.

“Hey,” he said, pulling his phone out of his back pocket, “could I buy you coffee this time?”

His offer caught you a little off guard, and apparently laughing it off was your brain’s only means at saving face once you felt the butterflies start to collate in your stomach. “Pssht, you just want the extra stars, huh?”

He smiled and your heart melted. “It’s definitely a bonus, but you didn’t say no so I’m running with it.”

If the barista wasn’t currently waving you over you would’ve insisted that he didn’t have to, but his timing was perfect so you let him have this one. Plus your seven extra stars, the mooch. His frappes always got him at least eleven to begin with. “How many until your next freebie?”

He stepped off to the side and looked down at his phone. “Two.”

“Aww, guess I should’ve gotten that venti, huh?”

“Guess so, now I’ll just have to buy you coffee again.”

You know, for being from another planet you shouldn’t be this suave.

After everyone had their coffee - and got a good laugh at Dib’s name spelled ‘Memebrane’ - you all sat down at your table in the back corner. While you and Gretchen pooled your notes to compare the boys took the quiz just to be done with it so they could focus on helping you.

“Alright,” Dib said, pulling out the textbook and slapping it down on the table. “I figured we’d give you a run down of what kinds of things to expect, ask you a few questions to see where you stand, and then devise a plan of attack from there.”

“And then I,” Zim added emphatically, “can make sure you both go home knowing what to study in the interim. Sound good?”

His excitement over the subject always made you smile, and you nodded eagerly.

About forty minutes later you were less than half as eager as you were to start with. The subject matter, again, wasn’t boring, it was just… so different than what your brain was already used to. After the end of an hour and a half Gretchen had to call it quits, asking Zim to just text her a study guide later so she wouldn’t be late to her evening class. And of course, since Dib was such a studious boyfriend, left to walk her himself.

Leaving the two of you alone. Of course.

“You don’t have another class tonight, do you?”

With a solid effort to get your nervous leg to stop bouncing you looked up and shook your head. “No, I just needed to clean some before I went to bed, other than that I’m all yours~”

Zim was in the middle of sipping his frappe before he pulled it away and coughed, trying to hide the blush on his cheeks.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just a… a really big piece of ice.” He gave one good cough before putting his drink down and away from him. “Where were we?” His voice was a little raspy and it made you smile a little.

You looked down at your notes. “Oh yeah, the sex constellation.”

“Okay now I’m really glad I didn’t have my drink in hand that time.”

“I’m sorry! I don’t remember what it’s called, I just know it’s got a funny name,” you whined, hiding your face in your hands.

“You mean Sextant?”

“Yeah, I mean what even is a… whatever that is?”

He sighed but his smile was genuine and it made your hands start to fidget now that his eyes were on you. “It measures distances for things like altitude.”

“Oh,” you said, sounding very uninterested all of a sudden. “That’s not very exciting.”

“No, not as exciting at the sex constellation I guess,” he laughed.

“Shut up!”

“I’m just teasing,” he said, grabbing your hand when you reached across the tiny table to smack him. “ Besides, now you definitely won’t forget it. So, where’s it at on the map?”

The textbook wasn’t very user friendly when it came to finding the correct chunk of sky map, but once you figured out which one to look at you were able to point it without too much fuss.

“See? Not so hard.”

The conversation was on and off for the next half hour while Zim wrote you up a study guide and let you take one last look over everything before he insisted you’d studied enough and needed to put it down. As you were packing up and finishing off your coffee he offered to walk you back to your dorm.

You blushed just a little, turning your face back to your things. “Oh no, you don’t have to do that. It’s only a few minutes from here.”

“I know,” he said, shouldering his bag. “But it’s getting dark and I’d be an asshole if I didn’t insist, so I’m insisting.”

Well you weren’t going to argue with him, or pass up a chance to let him shower you in chivalry. So you let him walk you home, looping your arm around his while you kept pace with his long strides.

Again, you couldn’t see the helplessly infatuated look on his face, but it was one that even Eliza Schuyler would be proud of. Had you not been around he might have been humming ‘Helpless’ to himself.

The walk was quiet and your thoughts were left to wander, first from your astronomy quiz, to your next bio lab, to thinking you recognized that student you just walked by, to the weird look you got from them because you did recognize them and evidently they were silently congratulating you on your booty call because you never told them you had a boyfriend. In fact you told her the opposite about two weeks ago so now it was weird because you and Zim were not dating - but not that you didn’t want to, and you would, it was just that…

Your brain decided it had had enough of that train of thought, and instead interrupted with an arbitrary ‘what if he asked?’ and then you spiraled into a whole thing that dumped you into your high school memories. That had been a weird time for everyone just in general, but your friend group had gone through some exceptional growing pains.

You were coming to terms with what going through med school was going to entail (which was a lot), Gretchen was in the middle of a huge falling out with both of her parents, Dib was finally clawing his way out of the worst time of his life and going to therapy, and Zim…

Well, he probably had it the worst, and ended up embodying the whole “teenage rebellion” thing to an absurd degree. You remember liking the hair and new jacket, but the rest of it was just so much. The only reason you knew he was pretending to take notes in class while actually writing angry letters to his ex-Tallest (he’d been very particular about that for a while) was because he always looked so angry and eventually one of his teachers sent him to the counselor. After that there was a good week of heart-to-heart sleepovers with everyone because Gretchen insisted.

But by the end of two years things sort of… got better. You had a viable plan of action to get you through med school, Gretchen found a healthy way to be removed from her parents without the animosity, Dib’s therapy had done wonders, and Zim grew up. You remembered it all happening so fast, it was like one day you were all a bunch of edgy kids trying to prove something to the world and the next day you realized you only cared about proving something to yourselves instead.

What a crazy few years.

“What are you thinking about?”

Huh? Oh! You blinked and hummed. “High school.”

“Oh God.”

You laughed and made a face. “What? You didn’t like high school?”

Zim made a little gagging noise. “Ew, no, do you even remember high school?”

“Pfft, yeah I remember that stupid expensive leather jacket you wore.”

“Listen I deserved something nice. It’s not my fault I was impressionable and you humans have terrible coping mechanisms.”

“I’m kidding,” you said, bumping him with your hip as you walked. “But the wig was nice.”

He absently trailed his fingers through his hair, biting his lip to cease the smile that honestly never left him. “Yeah? I kinda thought it was obnoxious actually.”

“You were a rebellious grungy emo boy, of course it was obnoxious. But at least you looked…?” You paused, rolling a few words around on your tongue.

“Normal?”

“Well, not really, but close enough?”

He shrugged. “I’ll take what I can get. Want me to walk you upstairs?”

The two of you had reached your dorm building, a cookie cutter copy of three other buildings just like it. Usually it was pretty lively during the day, but somehow it just felt so foreboding once the sun went down. It was probably the fluorescent street lamps and flickering lights over the front doors. Plus the trees looked a little too lifelike in the dark.

You scrunched your nose. “Yeah, if you wouldn’t mind?”

“Not at all~” He followed you up to the door and waited for you to pull out your student ID, listening for the doors to click once you swiped it across the panel. “There’s a hell of a blind spot over here, I don’t think this camera can - ”

You bristled and pulled the door open. “Don’t tell me that!” you chided, putting your ID away. “There’s enough weirdos around here as it is, I don’t need to know about how bad the security system is.”

Zim laughed and made a face. “My bad. I could fix it though.”

The two of you stopped in front of the elevators and waited for one of the two to come down to the ground floor. “That’s probably illegal.”

“It’s definitely illegal. I’m just saying I could.” He looked up and around at the foyer, sticking his hands in his pockets as a sliver of nervous energy coiled in his stomach. Being around other people was one thing, being totally alone in an enclosed space was a completely different thing. The ‘ding’ made him jump, he was glad you didn’t notice.

As you stepped in and pressed the button for the seventh floor you sighed. “I bet if I took the stairs every day my legs would look great.”

You didn’t see his eyes flick down, or the way his jaw clenched as he bit his tongue, begging himself not to correct you out loud. But what he did say made you look. “You always c-maybe come do the gym with some time - ” He didn’t even really finish before he set his hands on his hips and just stared at the ground.

“Uh,” you tried so hard not to laugh, “What-?”

“You know I’m pretty sure I blacked out for that entire sentence.”

“Did you have a stroke?”

“No idea.”

“Can you even have those?”

“I guess we’ll find out.”

“I hope not,” you said, stepping out of the elevator as it stopped and the doors slid open. “Those are no joke, so you better not die on me.”

He followed you out and around the corner, humming. “Would you miss me?”

“Of course I’d miss you, you’re my best friend.” When you looked up you saw a dopey smile spread across his face. “Aww, see? You do have a heart.” you teased, leaning your head against his arm.

“Who, me?” He rested his hand on your opposite shoulder. “Absolutely not.”

You scoffed. “Liar.”

“Technically, I do not have the biological equivalent of a heart.”

You picked your head up and scowled. “Wait, but when I give you hugs sometimes I hear a rhythmic thumping, so what the fuck is that then?”

He shrugged and smiled. “I dunno, maybe I’ll let you play doctor some day and find out.”

There was a catch in your step as you tripped over what he said. “I - what?”

Suddenly his whole face flushed and both hands flew up to cover his face. “Oh god I’m so sorry, I forgot that was a weird sexual thing for you guys, aaaaahh,” he whined.

You laughed and waved your hand. “Oh no, no I thought you were asking me to like… cut you open or something?”

Zim pulled his hands away just enough to look absolutely horrified at you. “No no, please don’t do that either.”

“I would never let anyone do that to you, ever,” you promised, holding his arm and guiding him along down the hallway. “I was just asking, dummy. I don’t think I could ever pull off the sexy nurse thing anyway so that went right over my head.”

“Well I mean that’s debatable,” he whispered.

You looked up at him. “What?”

“What?”

“Did you just…?”

He stopped in front of your door, his eyes going a bit wide. “Oh I said that out loud didn’t I?”

You blushed, pulling your ID out of your back pocket to open your door. “Don’t worry, I’m flattered~”

He blinked a few times, absolutely mortified at himself. “Uh huh, well I’m going to stop talking and give you a hug now.”

You propped the heavy metal door open with the heel of your foot and leaned in to hug him goodbye. He was always good for hugs, something about being platonically repressed and Irken social norms or whatever, but his were your favorite. He was the perfect height too, you could snuggle right in between his chin and shoulder and wrap your arms all the way around and up his back, nice a flush - those were the best. You always felt yourself linger a little longer than with anyone else, but he didn’t seem to care, and Gretchen was the only one who ever pointed it out. It wasn’t like you were counting the seconds or anything…

“Oh hey~” Speaking of Gretchen.

You pulled away and turned around, tilting your head. “Hey, I thought you had class?”

Gretchen was draped across the couch with her laptop and leftover Starbucks. “Me too, until I got there and realized no one was coming. Wetzle got food poisoning during lunch today so he cancelled last minute. How was studying?” The lilt in her voice always assumed something.

You crossed your arms. “It was productive.”

Her lips twitched. “I’m sure it was~”

When you rolled your eyes and finally said goodnight you saw Gretchen make a beeline for the door before you got to your bedroom, but you didn’t bother to stay within earshot, if you wanted to sleep at all you still had some work to do.

When Gretchen was sure you couldn’t hear she poked her head out through the door. “Hey space nerd, get back here.”

Zim was already halfway down the hall before he groaned and walked back over and leaned against the wall as dramatically as possible. “What?”

Gretchen smiled, raising her eyebrows as her fingers drummed against the doorframe. “Sooo? How’d it go?”

“It was fine.”

“Just fine?”

“Yes, just fine.”

She scoffed and slouched her shoulders. “Oh come on, why can’t you just say something?”

Zim leaned against his arms and pressed his head into the wall, whining. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

“What happened? You bought her coffee, it was cute, what gives?”

He only whined.

“Oh my god Zim, you are such a baby. Just talk to her, it’s not that hard.”

His head raised just enough to scowl at her. “It is hard, because I tried like five minutes ago, and I’m pretty sure I blacked out and had a stroke. This isn’t - stop laughing it isn’t funny!”

Gretchen held a hand up to her mouth and waved. “No no, you’re right, it isn’t funny… it’s fucking hilarious.” When he started to genuinely look hurt she sighed and bumped him on the arm. “Okay okay, I’m sorry, this is hard for you. But - okay so maybe just talking isn’t gonna work for you… clearly. But you’ve got to do something, otherwise it’s gonna be this shitty soap opera type pining after each other bullshit forever and, I’m sorry, but it’s getting real old. Like I’m gagging on it.”

He shoved her goodnaturedly and turned around to slouch against the doorframe next to her. “Okay so talking isn’t working, what else is there? I mean I thought I was being pretty obvious? Unless I’ve totally misread this entire situation, and if I have don’t tell me because my poor soft little heart can’t take it.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” she breathed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “That’s the thing though, you are being glaringly obvious, but you don’t seem to understand that that’s not enough. Literally everyone around you gets it, but she doesn’t. That’s the problem, there’s not a whole lot else you can do if you won’t just flat out say, ‘oh hey, by the way, I’ve been in love with you since our senior year of high school, can I take you out for dinner.’ Subtlety goes right over her head, so if you can’t be up front with words, you gotta do something that’s still gonna get the point across.” When he opened his mouth to ask something Gretchen immediately started shaking her head. “No, you can’t just skip straight to the dinner date, she’ll think it’s a friendly thing. She’s… incredibly platonically inclined, you’ve got to spell this shit out.”

Zim groaned and slid halfway down the wall before forcing himself upright. “Okay, fine. You’re the best friend, tell me what’ll get her attention.”

Gretchen pursed her lips, then smiled. “How about you give me my study sheet, then we’ll talk.”

“Oh fuck off.”

“You still owe me a study sheet!”

“Yeah, and you’ll get one, but you don’t have to hold it over my head.”

She waved him off down the hall. “Less arguing, more complying with my demands~”

“Yeah yeah,” he called, shoving his hands in his pockets as he walked back down the hall to leave for good this time. Gretchen was a good friend, and he had all the faith in the world in her… he just hoped whatever advice she had would actually work.

You were too good to let slip away.

[katecarteir]

when tomorrow comes (i’ll be on my own)

rating: mature

pairing: eddie kaspbrak/richie tozier

summary: Richie pushed himself up on his elbows and smirked. “You know, Eddie my love, we suddenly have great potential right here. Don’t you remember what it was like? Back in Derry… all the sneaking around, the thrill of getting caught all the time? What an adrenaline rush!” 

“What a constant risk of anxiety attack you mean,” Eddie corrected, but he was grinning too. “But yeah, it was pretty exciting. What’s your point?”

“What if… and really hear me out here, Eds… we just let them think we were broken up?” 

chapter count: 1/5

“Hey, buddy, how you doing?”

Richie Tozier tugged one earbud out and looked up at his room mate in confusion. He and Stanley Uris had grown to be good friends in the last two years that they’d been together in the college dorms- though, Richie had been surprised when Stan had been willing to agree to room with him a second time. They were all salt and nothing sweet, such different souls in one confined space, it was very rare that they were ever particularly gentle with one another. It was only ever when something was seriously wrong that they’d drop their harsh outer friendship and show through what they really were- best friends who cared deeply for one another.

Richie couldn’t think of anything that would have caused Stan to drop his sodium levels. He wracked his brain of everything that had happened over the last forty eight hours, but it threatened to give him a headache. He couldn’t focus on that and his English Lit paper. “I’m fine? This paper’s a killer, though. Mathers can suck my dick.”

A worried crinkle appeared between Stan’s brow and Richie’s heart picked up slightly. Had something really bad happened and Richie had just totally forgotten? Oh shit, had he repressed some sort of terrible experience from today? Did Stan know something that he didn’t, what-

“Pats and I are going to Floats tonight for dinner,” Stan broke through Richie’s internal panicking’s. Stanley had recently started going out with a girl from his Algebra course, though it had been a nearly year long struggle for Richie, having to watch Stan pine over her when it obvious that the girl had been just as smitten. For whatever reason. “Did you want us to bring you back some curly fries? I know they’re your favourite.”

Richie’s eyebrows disappeared completely behind his moppy bangs. Stanley has never, not once in the nearly two years they’d known each other, offered to pick up food for Richie. No matter how much Richie had begged him to. “I- Yeah, man. That… That’d be great. Thanks?”

Stan nodded once, and reached out to squeeze at Richie shoulder, before turning and walking from their shared living space. Richie shook his head slightly, confused but also looking forward to Floats’ curly fries, he’d barely turned back to his computer before his phone was lighting up. Beverly Marsh’s face lit up the screen and Richie almost declined, assuming it was a butt dial. Beverly Marsh did not make phone calls, that was just a known fact.

“Bev?” Richie inquired lightly, hoping that he’d get to listen in on some sort embarrassing private conversation and not Bev getting busy with her boyfriend. Richie had been burned before.

“Hey, Rich! How are you doing?” Bev’s too-chipper voice rang through the speaker and Richie had to frown.

“Why is everybody asking me that?” Richie asked, hearing the whine in his voice. “I’m peachy fucking keen. Nothing wrong on Rich Bitch front.”

Bev made an annoying sympathetic noise on the other end and Richie really did feel as though he were going to tug his own curls out. “Ben and I got Infinity War on DVD.” Bev continued. “Did you wanna come over and watch it with us tonight? We can cry into giant bowls of popcorn then obsess over online theories on how its going to get resolved.”

Richie hummed. “I would love to, Bev, but I actually have to get this stupid fucking English Lit paper done or I’m going to flunk out.”

“Oh. Okay.” Beverly sounded almost disappointed… no, not disappointed? Worried? Maybe worried. “Text me if you need anything, yeah?”

“Sure, Bev,” Richie said, pinching the brim of his nose. “Whatever.” Richie clicked end on the call and tossed his phone onto the comforter. He only looked at his blank document for a moment before grabbing his phone once again and scrolling through the contacts.

to: angel baby boy: hey bbyy im super fucking stuck on this damn English lit paper can i come over plsssss ill love u forever

from angel baby boy: you’re already going to love me forever but ofc doors unlocked see u soon *kiss emoji*

Richie scrambled up from his bed, throwing on what he knew were Eddie’s favourite pair of grey sweatpants, and started throwing his things into worn down backpack. He’d had it since early high school, and he knew he was going to tear a hole right through it soon enough, but he couldn’t be bothered to get a new one before that happened.

He’d only bounced out the door to his dorm before he almost ran smack into Audra Phillips. He hadn’t known the girl long, she’d only transferred to their college a few months earlier, but their majors ran into very similar circles and he’d only seen more of her since she’d started seeing Eddie’s room mate, Bill. She was a nice girl, if not a little bland, and Richie enjoyed her company. She was, of course, not somebody he expected to see standing outside his dorm room with two cups of Starbucks.

“Hey,” she said, blinking up at him. She almost seemed that she was as surprised to find herself here as Richie was to see her. “I brought you a coffee? Chocolate mocha frapp, right?”

Richie made a happy noise and took the cold drink from Audra’s awaiting hand. “Dude, I love seven dollar drinks. What do I owe this tongue-numbing pleasure?”

“I figured that the English Lit paper was kicking your ass,” Audra said lightly. “Amongst… other things. Thought I’d be friendly.”

Richie crinkled his nose up, green straw almost in his mouth. If one more person implied that something was wrong when Richie had absolutely no idea what that could be, he might actually start screaming. But Audra was smiling so sweetly at him, and as far as Richie knew the girl had never done anything wrong in pretty much her entire life, he just nodded at her and thanked her again for the drink. They exchanged a few more civil pleasantries before Richie excused himself and made it the rest of the way to Eddie and Bill’s room.

Eddie was seated in his bed, surrounded by his mountain of yellow pillows and wrapped up in his soft green comforter. Eddie had, without a doubt, the most comfortable bed Richie had ever been in. That was, possibly, a little bit of a bias but it was true. The only good thing that Richie thought Sonia Kaspbrak had ever done- besides actually giving birth to Eddie- was insisting he get so many pillows and blankets to make his dorm bed safer for her Eddie Bear. Eddie seemed to hate it, tossing most of the pillows to the foot end of his bed when actually going to sleep, and using the green comforter only, but Richie absolutely loved it and Eddie always put the pillows back at the head when he knew Richie was coming over.

Richie had known Eddie easily as long as he’d known anybody. He supposed the only people he would have known longer were his parents and older sister, meeting Eddie at his orientation of kindergarten. The older they’d gotten, the harder Sonia Kaspbrak had tried to push them apart, and all the closer they’d grown. By seventh grade, it was almost impossible to find one without the other. RichieTozierandEddieKaspbrak. Richie had probably been in love with him even back then, but they’d only made the jump to boyfriends near the end of sophomore year. Despite a few short, drama-filled fights and break ups, they’d been together ever since.

“So, did like… my mother die and everybody forgot to tell me?” Richie asked, chocolate coffee dripping down the corner of his mouth.

Eddie startled, sitting up on his pillow mountain and shoving his laptop aside. “What? What happened to your mom? Rich-“

“No! No, no,” Richie started shaking his head, dropping down beside him. “Mags is fine, she texted me this morning. I just… I’ve had the weirdest fucking afternoon.”

“So you decided you’d make a joke about your mom dying?” Eddie squawked, cheeks starting to turn pink. “What the fuck, Richard?”

“I just…” Richie sighed. “Bev invited me over, Audra brought me coffee. Stanley offered to bring me home curly fries from Floats? I am like… dying and don’t know it?”

Eddie shook his head slightly, frowning, before slapping a hand over his mouth. “Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Fucking Bill…” Eddie chuckled. “Do you remember last week when you forgot about breakfast and I was super pissed? Didn’t talk to you all day?”

“Uh, yeah, vividly.” Richie grumbled, jutting out his bottom lip. “You’re the one who tried to make plans with me when I was half asleep, you know. You should know better than that after 18 years, Eds.”

“Don’t call me that,” Eddie rolled his eyes. “But no, I was super pissed off and I ranted to Bill. I might have sort of said I was going to break up with you. Guess he thinks that I did… and he told everybody.”

Richie’s mouth dropped open. “Everybody is being nice to me because they think I got dumped? What the fuck! Why would you tell Bill you were going to break up with me?”

Eddie shook his head and took Richie’s hand in his. “I tell you I’m going to break up with you twice a week. I didn’t realize that somebody else would take it so seriously. We’ll just tell everybody that we didn’t break up, or that we got back together, or whatever…”

Richie pushed himself up on his elbows and smirked. “You know, Eddie my love, we suddenly have great potential right here. Don’t you remember what it was like? Back in Derry… all the sneaking around, the thrill of getting caught all the time? What an adrenaline rush!”

“What a constant risk of anxiety attack you mean,” Eddie corrected, but he was grinning too. “But yeah, it was pretty exciting. What’s your point?”

“What if… and really hear me out here, Eds… we just let them think we were broken up?”

Panic moved quickly across Eddie’s face. “You want to break up? Richie, what the fuck, since when, why didn’t you-“

Richie clapped a hand over Eddie’s panic-rambling mouth. “No, no, shut up, I don’t want to break up. Ever. Jesus Christ, no. I’m just saying… if we let everybody think we’re broken up, we could have that thrill of sneaking around again. It could be fun, you know, keeping it a secret. Kind of kinky, definitely hot.”

Eddie still didn’t look convinced, but his cheeks had started to warm up under the idea. “It would never work. You couldn’t pull it off.”

Richie made a loud, offended noise. “I couldn’t pull it off? You’re the one who won’t be able to keep their hands off all of this.” Richie gesturing up and down his body, waggling his eyebrows.

“I’d fake puking right now, but you’re wearing those stupid grey sweats and you know I’m weak for them,” Eddie muttered under his breath, looking highly put out. Richie burst out laughing and draped himself around Eddie’s mid-section. He pressed his face into his stomach and blew a raspberry over top of Eddie’s T-shirt. “Admit it, Eddie Spaghetti, you would absolutely blow it before I would. Without a doubt.”

Eddie tangled his hand in Richie’s messy curls, pushing him away from his stomach, but keeping his fingers deep in the curls. “Care to put your money where your trash mouth is, Tozier?”

“First off all,” Richie grinned before bouncing forward and kissing Eddie deeply. He dug his teeth into Eddie’s body lip and tugged slightly. Eddie made a small whimpering noise when Richie pulled back, when only caused Richie grin to grow. “You love my Trashmouth and all the trashy things it can do. Secondly, when have you ever known me to turn down a bet?”

“Not often enough,” Eddie looked mildly horrified, no doubt remembering the stupid ass things Richie had done on bets and dares in the many years he’d known him. “But we can discuss the arrangements of this bet you’re going to loose those your fucking pants off?”

Richie cackled.

[wheelthefridge]

in honor of last night having been my last ever shift dishwashing at the same restaurant i’ve been at for the past four years here’s an absurdly long list of random chaotic moments that literally no one asked for that i’ve been compiling since day one:

bj, with a half full gallon of orange juice: this expired two months ago. *pours down drain* that was a long time ago

sam: YOU! I HAVE A BONE TO PICK WITH YOU!! *carries on normally with no explanation* bj: smack that! that too! smack those vegetables! punch that burger in the nose! chop that bun! bob: no, flick the bun. you have to flick it. 

*bad and boujee playing* bj: walks into kitchen, singing bj: you better know when to hold em, know when to fold em, know when to walk away, know when to run bj: walks out of kitchen, still singing

me: hey can you put the wet floor sign out for me dylan: sure dylan: *slips while putting the sign out* me:

sam: get this- i haven’t smoked pot in like three days and my brain is ready to roll! yeah!

joe: ha! oldest trick in the book i just started writing 

dude @bar: ten percent of people are over 6'1" other dude: what about 6'2"  dude 1: what? no. ten percent of people are OVER 6'1" - so that includes 6'2" dude 2: idk I know a lot of tall guys. taller than me dude 1: what? i’m saying- just- ten percent of everyone in the whole world- you know how many people there are in the world? 7 billion– dude 2: i thought it was six billion  dude 1: no, 7 billion- ten percent of 7 billion—

joe, digging through the trash: i’m just gonna peruse through here,, aaaaannnd….. nope not here me: what’re u looking for Joe: …..a book

didi: is eating a pistachio  katherine: is that sour cream

sam: some dirty whorebag wants two pickles 

joe: sam she am. that’s right. dr seuss wrote a book about her 

katherine: oh my goddd this song is always on i’m so tired of it joe: is it? i don’t think i’ve heard it before carolyn: eh it’s all just one long brazilian song to me

katherine: look at my straw i put it in the pencil sharpener 

sam: i’m on crack cocaine. you heard it here

sam, aggressively putting silverware in the tray: just the way the cookie crumbles me: yeah? sam, fake crying: yes

adele: if you’re ready- sam: what if I’m not bob: too bad. she only cares if she’s ready

something: *breaks* sam: time for the mop. and by mop i mean… this thing *holds up dustpan*

mike: you should go on junior master chef…. and only make fries 

sam, quietly as she speedwalks by me: panic panic panic panic panic panic panic panic

sam, beginning of the night: my goal is to make at least forty bucks tonight. hopefully sixty sam, later that night: i’ve made five dollars

sam, pouring a drink into the trash right next to the sink: you know, im not sure why i poured that in the trash. i’ve had a very off day

katherine, after accidentally spraying salsa on herself: i just sprayed salsa all over myself bj: i feel like that too sometimes. i love salsa so much

sam: can you imagine if i did like hardcore drugs how messed up i would be- i’m messed up soberly

someone: what’re you supposed to feed twenty kids  kerry: pizza bj: vodka 

sam: will you let bob know there’s gonna be seven in the snug bj: seven in the snug? that’s my band name. we’re really good

edson: *spins cover on counter and stares at it for solid thirty seconds before putting his finger down to stop it* edson: good. 

sam: what should i draw bj: you should draw casey, hanging from a cliff, with a pterodactyl flying towards them who is on fire, but, seems optimistic about it 

bj: life is too short for low fat cheese. remember that. 

sam, beginning of night, in a really good mood: guess what i’m drunk and high right now  sam, later that night: i was just pouring a beer and i dropped it. like my hand just let go of it sam, end of night: i’m never doing this again 

joe: you know who didn’t clock out yet?? i have two thumbs! joe: ……wait joe: you know who has two thumbs and hasn’t clocked out yet?? this guy!! me: there ya go buddy

bob: i’ve slept fifteen hours in the past four days me: that’s not good bob: yeah

edson: look edson: *holds out hand with top spinning in his palm* *giggles*

sam: i cannot wait for this day to be over  me: it’s barely started  sam: i took a shot before i got here. i have more in my car

bob: hi sam sam: hi bob  didi: hi sam sam: fuck off

joe: her? oh yeah her name is sarah whitaker  katherine: oh i think i know her joe: that’s funny because i just made that up. i’m willing to bet money that she’s nineteen tho me: why joe: bc i overheard her say that she’s nineteen

joe: i’m gonna send you a video but you can’t watch it now it’s needs full attention with headphones and the lights off 

bj: if you lose your hand, don’t replace it with a fork. that would be a bad choice. i know it’s probably the cheapest option, right up there with stick, but just spend the money. 

bj, on a different day: i think if you were to get your hands cut off, getting them replaced with plates would be a very bad idea. you can dig. and you can toss. but that’s about it. no playing the saxophone.  

colby: *doesn’t show up to work* bj: maybe i should leave him a message of just me crying 

katherine: i think an old man just asked me to live with him

sam: wait *pulls celery strings out of her mouth* that just came out of my throat

bob: i’m such a grump tonight. i’m in a good mood i’m just so grumpy.  bob: maybe i’m not in a good mood…

bj, after sending christa downstairs to get liquor for the bar: i put a live cobra down there too so… if she comes back with it dead in her hands…. she’s a champ. and that’s that. 

bj: i had a dog today did you have a dog? me: no bj: oh. well. 

dylan, holding phone camera at joe: hey joe can you pull ur shirt down joe, pulling the collar of his shirt halfway down his chest: yeah like this? dylan, taking picture: yeah thanks 

bj: HI-YAH carley: you’re a ninja!! bj: yes. don’t be alarmed. i only use my powers for good. 

bj, with one bottle in each hand, pouring water in the sink, mimicking cow milking motions: it’s like a cow. mooooooeeeeeeuuuuuhhhhhhgggg aaaaaauuuuuueuejhshhsii. that’s what cows sound like right?

bj: we have a dog, and we’re getting chickens. i’m not really sure why were getting chickens. do i consider myself a farmer? not really. 

bj: we should make a youtube channel of just me saying really random things to you and you not responding to me whatsoever me: mhmm

nancy: I’m sleeping

sam: *pours drink out on counter next to sink* sam: wHAT the FuCK was that!? why did i do that?? i’ve lost it! i’ve hit rock bottom!!

sam: *bends over* ughhhhhhhhhhhhh *straightens up* ok i’m fine

bj: yum! that’s how i rate the soup. two yums up!! *laughs for like a full minute*

sam: i got my motorcycle license over the weekend and now all everyone’s saying to me is “no don’t get a motorcycle they’re so dangerous” like shut the fuck up if i die i die it’s my choice 

bj: i think if i were to be turned into some kind of commercial type of food, if i got turned into a nugget, i think i’d be indignant. i’ve lived my whole life and now i’m a nugget??? “oh i was a great roasted-“ i was a nugget. i was eaten with fries out of a box with a small soda. 

bj: hello everybody. i have arrived. please remain calm.  bob: *screams*

radio: the fastest lawn mower in the world goes up to 150 miles per hour! bob: …….why??

sam: i just meowed in scotty’s face and he was completely unfazed by it. like a full on Meow. 

bob: lemme just touch these live wires with my wet hands  bj: bob has gone offline

katherine: i totally forgot to put their order in for i don’t even know how long me: ……..i’m sure it’ll be fine katherine: i mean, nothing matters, right? right. nothing matters. 

bj: hey did you guys hear that kate: yeah what was that bj: oh i was just yelling……….. about the soup kate: me: katherine: bj: i’ll try to keep it down next time

bob: you sleep a lot when you’re old. it’s just practice for death. getting ready for The Big Sleep. let’s see how do i wanna go out? on my back?? nah not for me. on my front babey! 

didi: hi sam sam: SHUT UP didi, quieter: okay…… sam: i love you  didi: no bj: so you’re a grownup now. that’s means you have to do grown up things, like, pay for dinner and stuff? me: uh huh bj: it’s all downhill from here 

bj: pon pon the van poco. right? me: mhmm bj: probably. i mean. i’m no doctor, but

random woman @ bar: we are the matrix. We. Are. The Matrix. 

bj, to the tune of frosty the snowman: clunkity clunk clunk clunkity clunk clunk look at all this stuff. clunkity clunk clunk clunkity clunk clunk making casey’s job tough! pretty good right?? i just made it up 

bj: *walks into kitchen* YES! that’s all i have to say. that’s it. BOBS killing it. DIDIS killing it. casey MURDERED it. you’re welcome. *walks out of kitchen* bj: today is the second day in a row my dog has eaten my lunch. yesterday and then today. it’s my own fault really bob: well you know what they say about men who like floppy french fries. *doesn’t elaborate*

sam: there’s a toy baby in my section. like just a toy baby taking up a seat in my section. what do i do like do i move the bitch? do i leave her there??

bob, talking to himself: if you get sick tomorrow, just remember. it’s your own fault for eating food off the floor. 

bob, to katherine: no, you don’t have to mop the carpet

bj: cheeeesy. 

laura: if i get through tonight without a heart attack it’ll be incredible. if i do have a heart attack tho just let me go

caldo: *unintelligible yelling* SELLING my BODY for SEX *more unintelligible yelling*

bob: my fathers brother sent all his kids to australia. i guess he figured at least one of them would make it

caldo: i don’t trust people who go out to eat tuna fish

bob: can you make some more guacamole soon we’re running low laura: pulls five (5) avocados from her pockets 

bob: he looks like jesus. well. he looks like what white people think jesus looked like

sam: yeah. Please. eat some more mother Fucking crackers. 

bj: i feel like i gave birth to the eggplant stacks tonight. and honestly? if my child looked like that? i’d be proud. proud to have an eggplant child

bj: alright everybody let’s get the fuf out of here!! i said fuf not f- it’s safe. f u f starts and ends with soft letters no one gets hurt. any word that starts with a soft letter and ends with a hard letter is bad news… i feel like every time i come in here i annoy you guys. casey’s one dumbass comment away from killing me. “hey so what are your thoughts on grass?” “that’s it” *mimics shooting a gun*

ilia: -and the dogs gonna get diabetes- katherine, indignantly: i cleaned it really well!

mickey: i’ll tell you one thing. crack is good. 

sam: some lady just rolled up to the bar, no bra, nipples beamin through the shirt- LETS GET IT!!!!

caldo: *speed walks into kitchen and shotguns a beer over the trash* ok i’m back. i should not have smoked this morning

dom: little kid just picked up a knife and went “oh cool i can stab someone” me, katherine, and sam in unison: good dom: yeah the dad took it away 

sam: my friend was like “why is your go to dance move just to snap” and i was like “i don’t know, i’m white” *shrugs*

bj: someone just asked me if i’m having fun. am i having fun? i don’t know if i’m having fun. there are certainly other things i’d rather be doing right now, but i don’t know if i can definitively say that i’m Not having fun. 

bj: some jobs require Only a ladle bj, thirty seconds later, after walking away and coming back: sometimes, also a funnel

bj, @ laura who’s eating cornbread: you cornbread eating chef!!!  laura: bj: laura: bj: i’m just saying facts in a weird way. you know like you’re in trouble. 

sam: *war cry* *spits out gum* *walks away*

bj: what kind of smoothie? Soup Smoothie!!

katherine: so this woman ordered some hot water so i gave it to her and her husband says you know what that’s for right and i’m like ….to drink? and he says nope! and doesn’t explain so i’m just like ………..okay! and walk away bc i don’t even want to know 

bj: there’s no shame in it! A Grown Man Can Bathe In Yogurt!!!

bj, leaning down very close to to-go box: i love you

bob: anyone want a drink? brian: whatever’s your strongest bob: milk it is

guy at bar: sUE HIM?!?!??? oh i’d sue him yeah

sam: who orders something extra cold?? like, you need to Die now thanks. 

sam: do you dare me to drink this buffalo sauce me: yes laura, walking by: snort it

sam: one more day. just one more day laura: of what sam: waking up

bob: *is trying to explain easter to jewish laura* laura: wait so he died… then he came back to life?? then he died Again??? bob: he died. then he came back just to tell people he was alive. then he said SEE YA and ascended to heaven

sam: i HATE margaritas. i don’t know why i just made myself one. 

bob: wow. i have this overpowering urge to just go home. 

bj, putting back a slotted spoon: this is a bad choice for dressing. a bad choice. 

me: *catches a plate about to fall* bj: woah! smooth moves!! spider-man? maybe. 

danny: so you know how at my other job everyone calls me daddy?

sam: *dumps out two full wine glasses* i fucked up. tell no one. 

me: remember when we used to be able to leave early? bob: no. i think we imagined it. 

danny: i didn’t realize we served DICK here -a few min later- danny: sorry i just got out of work and i’m all fired up

sam: my moms drunk and she won’t go home

bob: hey wasn’t that slang for mari- bj: cocaine. 

bj: *kicks kitchen door open* YEE-HAW!!!!

danny: sorry casey  me: what for  danny: for having to deal with me me: yeah *shrugs* danny: they should pay you more me: yeah

didi: i kill you ilia: do it now didi: no ilia: do it i wanna die

danny, about a burger: we’ve got ourselves a squirter!!

sam: is that a chicken patty  sydney: it’s my dog

sam, on my last night with her: lets get casey TRASHED tonight

sam: are you gonna go dancing in new york didi: yes laura: whore it up

[happiness4jane]

The Scariest Thing I’ve Ever Done

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Well, this is terrifying. Paralyzing almost. My hands are literally trembling as I try to punch the letters on my keyboard. When I allow myself to think about the people that might read this. People I know. People I work with. Students I teach. Students I’ve taught. My soon-to-be-in-laws. My exes. Their families (they’ll say, “I told you so!”). My friends. Their friends. My family. My children. All 836 of my Facebook “friends” are potential critics. And they’ll share it with even more people that might know me or will know me, that see me around and will avoid making eye contact with me in Walmart forevermore! When I allow myself to think about that – the people that might read this – every self-doubting, loathing, shaming, insecure demon inside me surfaces in protest. BUT… but. That’s the point, after all. For people to read this. To maybe help others claw their way out of the uncompromising, crippling, and degenerative grasp of the illness known as Bipolar Disorder (no, but seriously, this scares the shit out of me and I can’t breathe).

Here’s the thing though – I shouldn’t be ashamed of it. It isn’t fair we live in a society that shames people with mental illness into silence. That calls us “crazy”. We can’t just snap our fingers and make it go away (but, oh, if I could!). We can’t just act normal, act rational. It’s not something we can tame on command. And we didn’t choose this. Who would choose this?! Who would choose to leave behind a legacy of wreckage? Well, I don’t doubt there are some who’d choose that… As for me, when I think on all the destroyed relationships, the lost jobs, the unfinished projects and departed dreams, the reckless moments that would haunt me for years, the countless days stolen away by infinite darkness… the shame, the shame, the shame – I would never choose this. And yet, despite all the chaos and ruin and regret, it took me about twenty years to get help. Why? The simple answer is, I didn’t want to be Bipolar. I didn’t want people to think I was crazy (Ha! Like they didn’t already!). So, I refused to accept it. I refused to seek treatment. And it got worse. Much, much worse.

About seven months ago, after another life-is-amazing-and-I-don’t-need-to-sleep-and-I’ll-hyper-focus-and-finish-that-novel-and-train-for-that-marathon-and-FUCK!-you-better-stop-getting-in-my-way-or-I’ll-bite-your-damn-head-off-so-feed-yourself elevated state (Symptoms of a manic episode: increased activity, energy or agitation; decreased need for sleep; abnormally upbeat) followed inevitably by a crashing-into-bed-and-plotting-out-the-details-of-my-exit-because-I-just-can’t-live-in-this-world-anymore-and-I’m-worthless-and-horrible-and-you’d-all-be-better-off-without-me depressed state (Symptoms of a major depressive episode: feelings of sadness, emptiness, hopelessness; marked loss of interest in activities; fatigue; feelings of worthlessness or excessive or inappropriate guilt; thinking about, planning, or attempting suicide), I sought the help of a counselor. So, what changed, you might be wondering? What made me seek treatment at this point, after shunning it for so many years? Well, it used to be that I had normal periods of time between the depression and the elevation. It used to be fun and ambitious and productive (euphoric but always beguiling) to be elevated. It used to be the depression came maybe a couple times a year. The unwarranted distrust and insecurity and ultra-sensitivity was fleeting. The suicidal thoughts were daunting rather than soothing. That’s what used to be. It was easier to pretend I was normal then. I was just eccentric! I was special! Like some of the greatest artists and inventors and individuals that made history. I was a mad genius just like Salvador Dali, Vincent Van Gogh, Charlie Chaplin, Ben Franklin, Sir Isaac Newton, Michelangelo (Symptom: exaggerated sense of self). I was able to ride that train of twisted thought for a long long time, because I could finish what I started then, because I was younger then, and there was always another job, another lover, another place that would accept me. But around seven years ago, that all began to change. The depression seized more frequently. The elevation became less euphoric and more agitated, even rageful at times – lashing out at and rejecting the people I loved most. I started projects but never finished them. It became more and more difficult to go to work, and when I got there, I had to convince myself out of the car and into the classroom. In the classroom, I felt like an alien. I couldn’t stay on track, couldn’t focus my thoughts (Symptom: rapid and frenzied speaking, racing thoughts). I felt like I was disconnected from everything around me, like I wasn’t real (Symptom: dissociation). And then over the past year, the episodes seemed to be crashing right on top of each another with no reprieve in-between. It was relentless, crippling. One day of unbridled energy followed by two days of extreme irritability followed by one day of bed-ridden depression and then rinse, lather, repeat. Weeks, months, a year like this. The darkness that occasionally consumed my thoughts mutated to a pervasive utter blackness – leaving a void where hope and happiness used to visit. My fiancé pleading with me to get out of bed. My 10-year-old son asking me why I was so angry. My six-year-old daughter saying, “Mommy’s sick again.” I hated myself. I couldn’t pretend I was perfectly healthy – just eccentric – anymore. I was sick. Very sick.

You see, Bipolar Disorder is a degenerative illness, and by denying myself treatment, I had enabled a progression into periods of rapid cycling, meaning I was basically Bipolar on steroids – my depressive and manic moods shifting in a constant unpredictable shitstorm. This is the way it was explained to me by my counselor (in much more eloquent terms). She said that in the same way progressive diseases like Cancer will eventually cause organ failure if left untreated, Bipolar Disorder gradually diminishes brain function if left untreated. Oh, did I mention this conversation took place just a month ago? And, perhaps you remember that I went to see her the first time about seven months ago? No, it didn’t take that long to diagnose me. It took that long for me to commit. I honored my appointments only twice before I disappeared for another two months and then for another five months after that (I was still battling my desperate desire to be “normal”). During those initial appointments, I either purposefully omitted the symptoms of my elevated states, or honestly didn’t know they were elevated states. Hard to tell. On the one hand, for most of my life the elevated states were something to look forward to. They were a tremendous relief since they often followed a long period of depression, or, they were a welcome rush of intense energy and focus and ambition after a period of normal moods and routines. On the other hand, there was a part of me that hoped, if I had to be diagnosed with something, that it be depression and/or anxiety – just not Bipolar, please, not that! For some totally illogical reason, having depression and anxiety seemed more socially acceptable to me. People posted about their depression and anxiety on social media. My students openly discussed their struggles with them in class. Lot’s of people are depressed and anxious! Poor reasoning but, I convinced myself that my elevated states were just “normal” times when I wasn’t depressed. After all, I didn’t behave like someone that was manic. I was nothing like Bradley Cooper’s character in “Silver Linings Playbook”! I didn’t suddenly become totally irrational. I didn’t spend everything in my bank account in some obsessed frenzy. I didn’t abruptly start making good on all my wildest fantasies and desires. I didn’t incoherently speed-talk and jump around from one interest to another. No, it was never that pronounced. Or, was it? I’d certainly been called Bipolar enough in my lifetime – and not in a concerned or encouraging way. More like I was being called a “crazy bitch”. It was a bad word. And I did spend [a lot] more money than I should when I felt “good”. Like, when I bought that boat with a personal loan on a 50% interest rate. Or, when I financed that international trip while negative in my bank account. And on all that professional camera equipment when I decided to be a video editor, and on this website two years ago when I decided to be a blogger (Perhaps, now, I’ll finally make use of it?). And the hundreds of dollars I invested in gear when I was suddenly inspired to run a marathon (but I did follow through on that one, thank you very much!). Oh, right, I guess I do jump around from interest to interest when I’m feeling “inspired”. I’m going to be a motivational speaker, no, a novelist, no, a personal trainer, no, a corporate trainer, no, a filmmaker, no, an entrepreneur, no… the list goes on and on. But these things felt so good. Even though I had to clean up the wreckage whenever I smashed back down on the pavement. The rubble of estranged relationships, busted bank accounts, retired jobs. So yeah, I went with depression and anxiety, masking the symptoms of mania. And I refused medication (because all I really needed to do was get my shit together, not numb myself with zombie-making pills). Until the progression to rapid cycling imprisoned me and I sulked, defeated, back into therapy five weeks ago.

After years and years and years of heartbreak and rejection and confusion and self-loathing and denial and protest, I began taking a daily mood stabilizer and seeing my therapist once a week. It took a couple weeks before there was any discernable change, and after four weeks, the change in my behavior was nothing short of striking. At that point, I realized I hadn’t been swallowed by the black void in three full weeks – a record time in nearly a year. I hadn’t lashed out in rage at anyone either. And the most surprising thing? I wasn’t the living dead. I had heard these nightmare testimonies about people with Bipolar Disorder beginning medication and going numb, like they’d been lobotomized, and that panicked me. I didn’t want to stop feeling, I just wanted to experience my feelings in a regulatory fashion. And I was, for the first time in years. Now, I want to be very careful not to sound like the poster girl for medicating. My strong belief is that we over-medicate in this country (but that’s for another post). No miracle has occurred. I’m not “cured”. In fact, there is no known cure for Bipolar Disorder. It can be managed, with a combination of medication and psychotherapy. Some days are better than others. But every day, I still battle my demons and the life-long conditioning of patterns, emotional reactions, and behaviors. My recovery is a continuous journey where no arrival point exists. But I have hope today. I wake up motivated to get out of bed without needing the boost of mania. I carry out the responsibilities and routines of the day without fighting off panic or becoming despondent. I fall asleep without the “lulling” melody of my own death dancing around my thoughts. Yes, I still get anxious and angry and sad and overly eager. The difference is in the way I’ve responded to those feelings since starting treatment. My awareness of the condition and the symptoms that accompany it, along with my medication, has helped me acknowledge my feelings before acting on them.

I hope it’s not the honeymoon period. I hope it lasts.

It’s early yet.

But if this remarkable change is here to stay [with dedicated treatment], I can’t help but feel frustration with myself for not seeking help sooner. Just to think on all the chaos and anguish I could have spared myself and others… But I’m here now, and perhaps it’s exactly where I’m supposed to be – writing this blog so that you may read it and be inspired to act now. For yourself, or for someone you know, before it’s too late. Make no mistake, this disease does kill. The suicide rate for people with Bipolar Disorder is twenty times that of the general population, and nearly 30% will make a suicide attempt at least once in their lifetime.

Don’t pity me, and please don’t fear me. I’m not very different from you. I have a family, friends, a career, hopes and dreams and struggles and fears. For those of you that know me, I’m still Jen. Maybe I’m even a better Jen – my greater and more genuine self. As a society, we need to reframe the way we perceive and speak about mental illness. Help me promote a fair image for those individuals and families that are afflicted with it – so they won’t suffer in silence. So they get help.

My name is Jen Hogue, and I’m diagnosed Bipolar II. Today, I’m in treatment. I take my medication everyday and see my counselor every week. I have a sense of hope that I haven’t had in far too long. I still don’t know if I’ll be brave enough to publish this. But I hope I will. After all, it’s often in the greatest risks we take that we find our greatest triumphs, and our greatest gifts to one another.  

[homeiswherethestuckis]

Hey, It Pays the Rent (Part 1/3) Enemies

@notedchampagne happy early birthday!!!!  :D  To celebrate your birthiversary I thought it would be cool to try and write you a three part roommates/ enemies to friends to lovers fic!  The next two parts should hopefully be done pretty quick.  Anyway, happy birthday, I hope you like the first installment of your present!!!!

(Part 2/3) Friends

(Part 3/3) Lovers

“Are you sure you don’t know a single person in need of a place to stay? At least for a couple months?” You ask John again as you grab your coffee off the counter and follow him to a table.

“No, Dave.” He rolls his eyes as he plops down in a chair. “I’ve asked around and there’s no one right now. Why weren’t you looking during the beginning of the semester? People were jumping for a chance to get a room, then.”

You slump into the seat across from him and groan. “I didn’t need a roommate then. I had my financial situation all under control-”

John snorts. You shoot a glare at him and kick him under the table.

“I had it all under control,” you repeat, “but then my bastard landlord raised the rent like the roof was on fire or some shit and now I’m swimming in debts while just trying to keep my head about water. Because let me tell you one thing, John, I refuse to be fully submerged. I mean sure, I can hold my breath like a son of a bitch and I float like a corpse, but I can’t have my head below the water. That’d totally ruin my hair. Not to mention my shades, which are totally irreplaceable.”

“I know, I bought them for you.”

“So you get my problem now?”

“That you need swimming lessons?”

“John, what the fuck?” You frown at him and take a sip of your drink. “You knew what I meant.”

He grins and holds his hands up to you. “I know, I know.” He blows on his coffee to cool it off a little before taking a drink. Then he gets serious. “Money’s been tight for you right now, and that really sucks. But you keep refusing my help every time I offer, and honestly I don’t know what else I can do.”

John’s been helping you out financially as much as he can, taking you out for food whenever he can, loaning you some money when your funds are way too low to even matter, and just generally being a chill presence in your life. You really appreciate it, but if you’re being honest you’re also a little ashamed that you have to borrow your friend’s money so often. You were certain you were going to be able to live by yourself and be completely independent. Right now you’re just a leash sucking cash blood out of John’s big money jugular.

The worst part is, you know if John ever told his Dad about your trouble right now, you’d have a sudden large endowment in your bank account courtesy of Crocker Corp. You’re certain the only reason that hasn’t happened yet is because you begged John to keep this all on the down low. You told him that it would’ve made you feel like a charity case. As if borrowing money from John is any better.

God, you feel like an asshole.

Which is why you need a roommate to split the burden with, fast.

“Are you describing it as the dope crash pad it is, or are you downplaying its awesome glory for mass appeal? Because that might have an effect on why people aren’t exactly lining up to rub elbow room with the Dave Strider.”

“You’re right, I’ve probably been downplaying it.” He nods in agreement. “Shit! I forgot to name drop you!”

He bangs his fist on the table like he’s disappointed in himself. You roll your eyes, you know a sarcastic move when you see one.

“Well, remember to do that next time.” Your chair scrapes across the floor as you stand up. “I gotta go, I have some posters to put up before I head off to work. Keep me posted if anyone gets interested.”

“Will do.” He gives you a quick thumbs up. “Have a good time at work.”

You laugh as you leave the cafe. “John, that’s not a thing.”

Work, as always, is exhausting as hell. Who would’ve thought working at a gas station could take so much out of you? You never feel like you do shit, but at the end of the day you can barely make yourself walk home.

Somehow, you manage to make it all the way home to your shitty (but just not shitty enough for you to be able to afford by yourself) apartment and collapse on your awful thrift store couch. You don’t bother turning on the lights as you kick your shoes off and dig your phone out of your pocket. Not like you need lights to scroll through social media before hitting the sack.

There’s a call from John that you missed. You spend a second weighing the pros and cons of calling him back when you realize he also texted you.

good news! i found some one willing to move in with your sorry butt. they want to set up a meeting with you first to check out the place and discuss room mate stuff with you. get back to me when you can.

You breathe a sigh of relief. Finally, this financial nightmare is over. Or at least, somewhat more financially stable.

“Thanks, dude.” You say into the voice to text function of your phone, “I knew I could count on you. Sunglasses emoji. Send.”

With that taken care of, you drag yourself over to the kitchen and make yourself snack dinner. Which is just. Half a bag of doritos but you’re eating it for dinner. Hey, that’s just how it is, sometimes. You take your snack dinner back to to the couch and turn on some cartoons to help you chill for a bit. A couple hours of brain mushing tv and phone scrolling, you decide to call it a night and go to bed.

The meeting between you and your potential mystery roommate is set up for Saturday, because the three of you all happen to be free on Saturday.

That’s right.

The three of you.

Because for some reason John wanted to come and chaperone your meeting. As if you couldn’t act like a semiprofessional for five fucking minutes. But as much as you told John this, he insisted on coming. He even offered to buy drinks for you and his pal, because he figured the two of you owing him a seven whole dollars and some change would be enough for you to let him stay. And, well, he was right.

All of John’s talk about being present and telling you to keep the conversation as civil as possible, and to really seriously consider the position you’re in right now before you make any decisions really has you wondering just what kind of person he’s expecting you to meet with. You’re usually cordial as one of those old dudes who sits on his porch on a scorching hot day and offers some of his fresh squeezed lemonade to all the dehydrated street folks. Of course, nobody accepts it because stranger danger, the street folks aren’t total idiots, but they get that you were being nice and they appreciate the gesture to parch their throats with your suspicious lemonade. How do they even know if you washed your hands? They don’t, they’d just have to take your word for it, which they won’t, because you’re a senile dirty old dude, but you’re definitely fucking cordial. That is the very essence of your being. The lemony, lemony essence.

You think John’s probably overreacting. You’re chill with pretty much everyone you meet, or at the very least you can keep your distaste in check for long enough to get them to agree to live with you. There’s really only one person (aside from Asshole Whom You’ll Never Speak of Again) who’s ever pissed you off to the point you can’t even pretend to be nice to him over his stream of bullshit.

Of course, there’s no way John invited Doucheface McSpazzatron here to room with you. That guy’s all the way across the country, thank fuck. You can rest assured it’s not him.

But that still leaves....the possibility that John knows someone so fucking similar to that guy that he thinks it’s going to be a problem for you. That’s a worrying thought in and of itself.

You’re not looking forward to this meeting.

You sigh and brace yourself for the worst as you push open the cafe door. You go up to the counter, order a dink, and ask them to put it on John’s tab. Once it’s delivered to you and slowly burning your hands, you start scanning the room for any signs of John and his friend. You arrived a little late, so no way they aren’t here already.

Eventually, you spot John’s face through the Saturday morning coffee crowd. There he is, smiling and laughing at whatever the mystery person said. From where you’re standing, you can only see the other person’s back. You can’t tell if you know them from here, all you really know for sure is that they’re wearing a hoodie with the hood pulled up. You drink some of your coffee, shrug to yourself, and start walking over. You’re going to have to talk to them eventually, and who knows, maybe they won’t be completely terrible. Lord knows they can’t be as bad as that fuckbag-

“Karkat?”

You’re frozen in place in complete disbelief. What the fuck’s he doing here? He’s supposed to be at school halfway across the country!

He screws his face up into a scowl that you are more than familiar with. “Dave.”

Your shock at seeing him here melted the moment you had his voice grating at your ears, and suddenly you can move again. You pull your chair out and sit down, angling it far away from the table so you’re as far away from him as you can be without making it too obvious. You fix a glare at him. Now you can focus on the more important things, like what the fuck he’s even doing back here so soon.

And just what the fuck is on his face?

“You’re not going near my place til you fucking shave.” You say pointedly, gesturing to horrible patch of hair on his chin. “I don’t need you shedding all over the carpet and anyway I’m not allowed to have a pet.”

“You think I like this?” Karkat holds a hand under his chin to frame his scruffy soul patch. “Any part of this? I despise having this fucking scrub brush uselessly attached to my face all the time? Do you think I don’t know how much this makes me look like a douche?”

“Look like?” You snort as you take out your phone and snap a quick pic of Karkat’s agitated face.

He snarls at you and gives you the finger. “I would shear this shit right off in a bloodpush thump, but my cheap ass fucking razor broke and now I’m trapped with this piece of steel wool on my chin. And you know what? It’s just the moldy icing on my shit cake right now! Because now, I have to beg you with this to let me squat in your tiny loadgaper of a home for awhile under the threat of being hiveless! If I live long enough the become ancient and decrepit, I don’t think I’ll ever experience a moment lower than this one.”

John laughs. “Karkat, you could’ve just asked to borrow a razor.”

“Hiveless, you say?” Interesting. “You serious?”

“Yes.” He sighs and covers his face with one of his hands. The other is wrapped around his cup of coffee. “I’m completely serious. Why else would I even fucking be here if I wasn’t under some dire shitty circumstances?”

“I see.” You nod. “So you came to me in your time of need.”

He levels a glare at you. “It’s not like a wanted to. I’m all out of options.”

“Of course you are.” You take a contemplative sip of your drink, savoring both the flavor and this perfect situation you’ve stumbled upon. Well, perfect fo you. Obviously it sucks for Karkat. You’re not very sympathetic, though, since you’re not his biggest fan. “I guess that means this shit’s all settled, then.”

“So you and Karkat are gonna be roommates, now?” John asks. He sounds relieved, like he wasn’t expecting it to go this well.

“Not so fast!” You hold up your hand to him. “Before I give our homeless buddy here the grand tour and allow him the privilege of living with me-”

Karkat snorts into his drink.

“-there’s one thing I need to hear first.”

John tilts his head. “One thing you need to hear?”

“Yeah.” You smirk and nudge Karkat with your leg. “You know what it is.”

Karkat looks confused, like he’s not sure what you’re talking about. He and John exchange a look. You don’t give him any hints.

You see it in his eyes as the realization strikes him. He sips his coffee and frowns. “You abominable fucking nerd.”

You shake your head. “That’s not it, and you know it.”

He groans and hangs his head, and you can feel the giant shit eating grin spread over your face. “Help me, Dave Strider, you’re my only hope.”

“You’re damn right, I am.” You polish off the remains of your drink in one gulp. “Let’s go.”

You take Karkat to check your place out. He walks around inspecting everything, kicking your shit around and telling you how much of a disgusting fucking sty your apartment is. Have you ever heard of a vacuum, Dave? Or do you like wallowing in your filth like a fat nasty oinkbeast? Blah blah blah ad nauseum. John came with you, too. Again, just to make sure neither of you do anything stupid, like say no to living together, in the heat of your mutual distaste for each other.

God, you’re going to fucking hate living with Karkat. He’s probably the worst roommate ever. But you’re out of options, and apparently so is he.

Karkat walks over to you. “Okay,” he kicks a piece of trash you haven’t bothered to pick up yet, “as much as the thought fills my throat with hot bile, I’ll do it. I’ll room with you.”

He holds out his hand. You shake it. “Great. I’ll go get the lease so you can sign it. After you kill that rat on your face and toss it out.”

He covers his soul patch with his hand defensively. “Fuck you, I don’t have a razor!”

“Get one!”

“I’ll get one after you let me sign the lease!” Your grips are still locked in a handshake. Karkat’s squeezing your hand tightly.

You squeeze back. “You’re not putting your John Hancock on shit til your face doesn’t make me gag.”

“Joke’s on you, asshole! My face always makes you gag!” He sticks his face really close to yours. So close your noses are almost touching. “Look me in the bulb and say it fucking doesn’t! I dare you!”

“Get your greasy hairball of a face away from me!”

“Or what?” You can smell his breath as he eggs you on. It’s hot and a little sour. “What are you gonna do?”

“Move it or I’m gonna lick you!” You consider shoving him, but you resist the urge. “Don’t test me, dude, I’ll stick my god damn tongue in your ear, I swear I will.”

“Do it, pussy!  I fucking dare you!”  Karkat turns his head so his ear is directly in your face.  

Your tongue is out of your mouth and going straight for his dirty ass ear before you can even consider what you’re really doing.  You literally told him not to test you a second ago, and then he did it anyway!  Dammit, you threatened to do it, and now you gotta follow through.  You gotta!  You’re nothing if not a man of your word.

“Hey!”

An arm slams between the two of you before you can fulfill your promise of delivering the wettest of willies straight from the source.  John squeezes his way between you and Karkat, acting as a barrier to separate you.  

“Dave, go talk to your landlord about the lease.  I’ll take Karkat back over to my place to get his stuff and shave and we’ll come back later.  Does that work for you?”

Fuck, you hate how riled up Karkat makes you.  More than that, you hate that John always has to step in and intervene.  How the fuck did he become the voice of reason?  

You breathe deeply.  “Yeah, that works for me.”

“Alright,” John nods and turns to Karkat, “what about you?”

Karkat huffs and rolls his eyes.  “Of course that works for me, why the fuck wouldn’t it?  I already went on a tirade about how I hate this unruly fuzz always scratching at my chin in the most hellishly uncomfortable way imaginable.  Do you really think I’d change my tune just because Dave has an iota of common sense concerning facial hair?  Shit, I know I’m petty, but I’m not that petty!”

You raise an eyebrow and open your mouth to disagree, but John shoots you a look that makes you close it again.  Whatever you were going to say is really not necessary.  Besides, you’ll have plenty of time to get into stupid arguments with Karkat for no apparent reason once you’re living together.

Fuck, you’re going to be living together.

“Okay, so that settles it!”  John wraps an arm around Karkat’s shoulders and starts leading him towards the door.  “Hey, we should go out for dinner to celebrate tonight!  My treat.”

Before you can tell him that’s not necessary -John’s already been doing a lot for you- he drags Karkat out and closes the door.  You’re left alone in your apartment.  

You flop face first onto the couch and groan into it.  You’re going to have to savor these fleeting moments while they last.  Soon it won’t just be your apartment. You won’t be able to relax like this anymore.  

You’re going to have to deal with Karkat on a daily basis.  This is going to be hell.

You flip over and stare up at the ceiling, letting out another loud groan.  

But..for the sake of the rent, you think you can deal with Karkat and his bullshit.  

Yeah.  Doesn’t sound too hard.  You got this.

Holy shit, no amount of money is worth this.

Your schedules are different enough that you barely see Karkat most of the time, but when you do see him, it makes you feel like he took a steaming, liquidy shit all over your good day.

Karkat is taking some online courses, which you wouldn’t give even half a turd about under normal circumstances.  The problem is that he does his homework in the living room with the tv on at full volume.  Again, this wouldn’t be much of a problem, either.

Except he doesn’t let you watch anything when he’s doing his homework.  You once tried to take the remote and he hissed at you.  He fucking hissed. As if he hasn’t already seen When Harry Met Sally fifty times already.  But no, its always his dumb fucking romantic troll sap, 24/7 and 360 fucking 5 forever and always.  Or at least until Karkat’s finished doing shit.  But really, in the moment those feel like the same thing.

Leaving the room doesn’t help much.  Usually you can still hear it through your door.

If he’s not laying claim over the couch and tv, he’s cleaning something.  That actually came as a pleasant surprise at first.  You’re not exactly big on cleaning, so it was refreshing to come home to a clean house.  The problem isn’t the apartment being clean, obviously, the problem is how Karkat goes about doing it.

Karkat’s cleaning pattern is as unpredictable and erratic as a chihuahua tornado.  He’ll start a load of dishes, then stop in the middle to vacuum the living room carpet, and then take a break to clean the bathroom sink.  All the while complaining about the disgusting state of the apartment.  Granted, his complaints about the apartment being gross die down once he starts regularly cleaning any shit he can get his grubby hands on.   

Given what he does instead now, you kind of miss the complaints.  Now he runs around the apartment cleaning and singing at the top of his lungs.

If you can call it singing.  

It’s more like...screaming?  

Yeah, it’s definitely screaming.  It really makes you wonder just how ear splittingly loud his music must be if he thinks it’s okay to fucking belt out the lyrics to every song in The Killers discography like a sandpaper throated banshee.  

The only good that comes from that is that you know which room he’s in at all times and you can avoid him better.

Mundane and everyday tasks are annoying as hell now.  You can’t even buy goddamn groceries without it being a huge federal case.  You want your cheap ass snacks, but Karkat always demands getting troll food, too.  Also a thing that shouldn’t be a big deal, except that troll cuisine is more expensive than human food because even with the high concentration of trolls on the planet, it’s still technically a delicacy.  On top of that, Karkat wants to make sure you get the right kind of food and not the awful but equally as expensive stuff stocked at your local grocer.  So instead you gotta buy your groceries (which Karkat will inevitably also eat because that’s how this arrangement works, you share snacks) and then you have to go home, put those away, and then take a bus to the next town over so Karkat can hit up the Authentic Troll Food Store, which is hella expensive because everything there is imported straight from Alternia.  It’s a hassle and you get absolutely jack shit out of it because your uncultured ass can’t stand the taste of troll garbage slime chow.

Then, of course, there’s John.

Karkat always seems to be near John.  Texting him, calling him.  Hanging out in his dorm.  Having dinner at Mr. Egbert’s place with him.  Tagging along whenever you go chill with him.  

Fuck, it’s like you’re fourteen all over again.

You fucking hate it.

The summer before you started high school, Karkat moved into town.  And for that whole year, he was always hanging around John.  He was like a pimple on your ass that was agonizingly annoying, but every time you popped it it just came back worse, bigger and more filled with puss than the last time.  You couldn’t get John alone for a second, it was awful.  Karkat was taking up all his time and there was nothing you could do about it without  looking like an even bigger asshole than him.

That whole year was torture.  Thinking back on it, only half of it was really Karkat’s fault.  It took you years to come to terms with the fact that you’d had a crush on John and were jealous of how much of his attention Karkat was taking up.  The other half just wanted to hang out with your best friend without the addition of some angry, loud troll kid who was obviously crushing hard on him.

Yeah, Karkat had had a crush on John, and it was...not subtle.

There was a blessed summer without Karkat right before your junior year.  It was a good season for you.  You only saw him once over that whole three month period. You remember it pretty well.  You and John were going to get some matches from the gas station (the one you’re currently working at) to light off some fireworks when you saw Karkat on his way out.  Karkat froze like a deer caught in headlights and he dropped his slushie.  John said hi, and then Karkat ran.  Neither of you had gone after him.  

When school started back up again, everything went back to normal, save for the fact that Karkat wasn’t clinging to John anymore.  

But here you are, right back where you started.  You’ve come full circle once again.

Karkat is hanging around John and taking up all of his spare time like a fucking attention leech again.  And just like before, you’re more jealous than you’d care to admit.

The only difference is this time you’re not jealous because you have a repressed crush on John.  It’s all because you just want to spend time with your friend without Karkat.

After a month of all this bullshit piling up, your last straw finally snaps under its weight.

You come home after a long day of work to a dark apartment.  You just want to collapse on the couch, but you can see as you toe off your shoes by the door that you’re not gonna be able to do that.  One of Karkat’s movies is on.  The tv is so bright in the pitch black that you don’t even notice Karkat’s laptop is open on the coffee table until you walk by the couch on the way to your room.  

But it is open.  

And on it is John’s face.  His mouth is moving, but you can’t hear a word he’s saying.  You can tell he sees you, though, because he waves.

Karkat turns his head.  His glare is illuminated from the soft glow of both screens.  Clearly his disapproves of you interrupting his facetime with John.

But you know what?  Fuck that.  Fuck him.

You walk around the couch and over to the other side of the coffee table.  You stand tall over Karkat, leveling your own steely gaze at him as you slam his laptop closed with one hand.

He sneers at you.  “What the fuck was that for?”

“This shit has to stop.”

“Oh?  And just what shit are you talking about?”  He inquires with disinterest.  Clearly he doesn’t give a damn about what your reasons are.  “Enlighten me.”

You can’t contain it anymore, not for all the rent money in the world.

You explode and enlighten him.

“All of this bullshit with John!”  You yell at him in an attempt to get it through his thick skull.  “Stop demanding his attention all the time!  He has more important shit to do than waste his time talking to your thirsty, pining ass all day, dude.  Jesus, just tell him you have a crush on him already and get it over with!”

“A crush?”  Karkat tilts his head to the side, and you think you can see a hint of a smile on his face.  “On John?”

He snorts.

“Dave, really?  You think I have a crush on John?”  He’s outright laughing now.  What the fuck?  “I haven’t had a crush of any sort on that idiot since I was seven sweeps.”

It occurs to you that this might be the first time you’ve ever made Karkat laugh.  Somehow that makes this whole confrontation worse for you.

“Then how the hell do you explain all your weird ass behavior lately, hm?”  You press on, undeterred by Karkat’s claim. “You’ve been following John around like a lovestruck puppy nursed back to health from the brink of death on his chiseled bosom.  Don’t deny it, we both know this shit isn’t normal.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Why the fuck does it matter so much to you?”

“I just want to know why you’re being so fucking clingy with John all of a sudden!”  You admit.  “Ever since you moved back here, you’ve been acting weird and sticking to John just like when we were kids and if it’s not because you’re into him well….then I can’t think of a reason why you’d be like this.”

“You really want to know?”  He says it as if it’s a challenge.  He gets up off the couch and leans in closer to you over the coffee table.  He’s still sneering at you.  His teeth look dead and sharp in the tv’s light.  “Do you really want to fucking know?”

You’re not backing down.  “Yes.”

He slams his hand against the table.  “I’m fucking lonely, you maggot brained shithead!”

Karkat huffs and falls back onto the couch.  He’s glaring up at you, waiting for you to say something.  

You’re still processing.

That….was not what you were expecting him to say.

“You’re fucking what?”

Wow, that wasn’t the stupidest thing you could’ve said, you fucking moron.

He crosses his arms over his chest.  “You heard me.”

“Okay,” you nod, “do...you need to talk about that?”

Did you just offer to listen to Karkat complain?  Did you actually volunteer for that?  What the fuck is wrong with you?

Karkat looks just as surprised by your question as you are.  “I don’t think I’d...hate talking about it?”

Neither of you seem to know where to go from here.  Do you wait for him to start talking?  Do you take a seat beside him on the couch?  Do you write shit down like a therapist might?  Should you get Rose on the line instead, since she’s a good listener?

You end up walking around the table and taking a seat on the couch.  In terms of couch distance, you’re far away from him.  You wait patiently for him to start talking.

“I uh…”  He takes a deep breath.  “I wanted to be independent when I left for school.  I didn’t want to have to rely on anybody for shit, which is why I decided to go so far away in the first place.  I even managed to get a single room when I got there.  For the first few weeks, everything was fine-”

Everything was not fine.

The first few weeks weren’t fine, they were hectic.  You were lost in figuring out your class schedule and what was expected of you in those classes.  But once you knew what was up, things were a lot less fine and a lot more shitty than they initially appeared.

You did your homework, you studied, you wrote essays.  You did all the educational fuckery you needed to do to ensure you didn’t fail any of your classes.  You didn’t have a lot of time to spare with all this studious shit, but it was enough time to make you wish you had someone else to spend time with.

In your core, you’re a social being.  You crave interaction, but because of a certain situation you’re not comfortable discussing, you have a hard time bringing yourself to even talk to people enough to make a real acquaintance.  Out of fear of discovery, you withdrew into yourself.

You didn’t go to any social events, nor were you fucking invited to any in the first place.  You ate lunch alone, when you ate lunch at all.  You had a difficult time getting any studying done in groups of people, so you didn’t even try.  And since you had a single room, you didn’t even have a dorm mate to fall back on for interaction.

You had so many friends at home that you’ve known for sweeps, you forgot how hard it was to make them in the first place.  How insanely hard it was for you to actually trust anyone enough to spend time with them.  

Two months into school, you missed your home and your friends more than you ever though possible.  You were starved for a nice conversation, for some contact, for anything really.  Even though you were still in touch with your friends, it wasn’t the same.  Somehow all the texting and phone calls and video chatting made you feel worse.

The stress piling up from all of the homework didn’t help you at all.  At first the homework distracted you from your lack of a social life, and then it all consumed your life.  Sometimes it was so overwhelming you couldn’t function anymore.  

You hate to admit this, but you cried yourself to sleep more than once during your time there.

Everything was horrible and it was shit and you were completely aware of that.  But what were you going to do?  Admit your failure?  Give up on school and come back home?  Of course not!  You could get through the whole year, you were strong enough for at least that!

But then you saw a picture of Kanaya with Rose and some of their other friends.  Kanaya came down from school to spend the weekend with everybody because she lived close enough to do that.  There was your best friend, hanging out with her friends and girlfriend and having a fun time.  And here you were, all alone in your dorm room across the country.

That’s what decided it for you.  

You talked to the appropriate people about leaving school and transferring to the local college back home.  You decided to finish off the rest of the year on your first school’s online program and then start at the new one.  You told John you were coming back, and he offered to let you stay at his house for a bit, and you immediately took the offer.  You didn’t actually have a plan for where you were going to stay once you came back, so it was appreciated.  After finals ended, you took a plane and a bus back home.  And now you’re here.

“I came back because I missed everybody, but they’re all busy with school and work and other life shit.”  Karkat shrugs.  “I’ve been spending time with John because he’s available.”

He lapses into silence.  Are you supposed to say something now?  

“It...sounds like you had a real shitty time.”

He snorts again.  “I’ll say.”

And that’s the end of everything you thought of to say.

You understand missing friends a lot.  All of your friends are extremely important to you, and you can’t imagine your life without them.  Well, you can, but it’s incredibly shitty.  You don’t know how to tell Karkat that he has your sympathy on this front without sounding like you’re pitying him.  You don’t know what else you can say.

Karkat must realize it, too.  He stands up and grabs his laptop off the table.  “I’m going to my block now.”

He starts walking away.  Fuck, you feel like you still need to say something, but what?  What the hell else do you have to offer?

Shit, he’s already opening his bedroom door.  You need to say something!  Anything!  Just fucking open your mouth!

“Hey,”  He turns his head.  Hell yeah, nailed it.  You said some words.  “I just realized no one threw you a welcome back party.  We should...fix that?  Next weekend?”

You can’t read his face because the hallway’s too dark. “Yeah, okay.  Next weekend.”

The party happens sooner than you anticipated it would.  It feels like you blinked and the week finished.  You still can’t believe that you spent all this time planning a party for a guy you don’t even like at all.  

Karkat’s been less insufferable than usual.  It’s a pleasant change to the bad month that came before that.

You invite everyone you can think of over to the apartment on Saturday afternoon.  They all RSVP, and some people (Rose) question your act of kindness towards Karkat.  You let Rose know you’re just as lost about it as she is.  

Honestly, outside of inviting people over, you really didn’t do much planning.  You don’t think Karkat’s going to care at all, though.  He doesn’t give a shit about the actual party, he just wants people over.

That becomes evident when the guests start arriving.

Rose comes first, bearing a bundt cake and an interest in analyzing your relationship with your roommate.  No amount of Lalondian analysis in the world could have prepared either of you for the hug she got from Karkat.

“Hello, Karkat.”  Her voice betrays her surprise and she gives him an awkward pat on the back with her free hand.  “Book club hasn’t been the same without you.”

“I’m glad you came, Rose!”  He breaks away from her reluctantly and takes the cake away from her.  “You got any new shit for me to read?  I’ve been waiting for an update.”

“Yeah, yeah I do.  Just give me a moment to find where you were.”  Rose pulls her phone out of her jacket and starts scrolling through it.

Karkat and Rose sit together on the couch and you watch as she passes him her phone.  You’re hanging out in the kitchen and ordering pizza while you wait for everybody else.

It doesn’t take long for more people to show up.  Karkat hugs each and every person who walks through the door.  Everyone seems just as shocked by this experience as you and Rose were.  

About twenty minutes in everyone is chilling in the living room.  At this point you’re just waiting on pizza and the final guest.  You wonder if she’ll show up before the pizza.

There’s a knock on the door, followed by someone walking in.  Yep, she got here first.

Karkat’s eyes light up.  “Kanaya!”

She smiles.  “Sorry I’m late.”

She doesn’t get any more words out before Karkat runs over to the door and hugs her so tightly he lifts her off the floor.

You didn’t really have anything planned, so you set up a game of Uno with your special Star Wars Uno cards that you know Karkat claims he hates.  He only says that because he’s never fucking seen any of them, that uncultured swine.

You get a couple rounds in before the pizza comes, and once that’s here you can’t really play Uno anymore.  You switch to watching tv instead, just for background noise while you all talk.

It’s been awhile since you’ve all gotten together, and it’s so amazing to be surrounded by your friends you wonder why you don’t do this more often.  

Karkat is sitting on the floor between Kanaya and John.  You’re not sure what they’re talking about, but you know this is the happiest you’ve ever seen him.  

Seeing him smile this much is a little surreal.  Hopefully it’s something you’ll get used to.  

The party lasts late into the night, but eventually people begin to leave.  Karkat walks all of them to the door and hugs them again as they exit.  After a long debate about whether they should spend the night or not, Rose and Kanaya also take their leave.  The door closes behind them, and it’s just you, Karkat, and your post-party messy apartment.  

The atmosphere in the apartment feels a little awkward to you.  You clear your throat to clear the silence.  Karkat is still staring at the closed door.

“So, uh…” you don’t really have anything say right now, “I didn’t know you were such a hugger, Karkat.”

You shouldn’t be surprised by what happens after that, but it still catches you off guard.

He hugs you.  

His arms are warm and they’re wrapped tightly around you.  His face is buried in your sweatshirt.  

It’s….nice.  Soft.  A comforting embrace that you never expected to get from someone like Karkat.  

You’d hug back, but Karkat’s pinned your arms to your sides.  

“Thanks for this, Dave.”  His voice is muffled by your shirt.  

You shrug in the most casual way possible. “Don’t mention it.”  

“No, shut the fuck up!  Let me thank you, I needed this more than I thought I did.”

“Okay, okay, fine.”  You roll your eyes, but you also smile because you know Karkat can’t see it right now.  “You’re welcome, you owe me now.”

“You don’t have to come with me to Troll Foods anymore.”

“Oh, sweet!  I hate that place.  But I was thinking more along the lines of making you marathon Star Wars with me.”

“Really, Dave?”  He groans into your shirt.  “Star Wars?  Why the fuck are you so obsessed with that series?  It’s not even an accurate portrayal of alien life and space travel.”

“Uh, of course it’s not, it’s called fiction, jackass.  Read a fucking book.”  You retort.  “Besides, Star Wars is the best and I refuse to be friends with someone who hasn’t seen Star Wars.”

Karkat pulls away from you.  “Did you just call me your friend?”

“Jesus, maybe I should’ve stuck my tongue in your ear, that probably would’ve cleaned all the gunk out.”  You smirk.  “I said you have to watch Star Wars first.”

“And then you’ll think of me as your friend?”  Karkat asks, raising an eyebrow suspiciously.

You nod. “Oh, yeah, dude.”  

“Okay, fine.”  He sighs.  “I’ll watch your dumb space trilogy.”

“Cool.”  You run over to your room.  “You’re gonna love the shit outta them, I swear.”

What Karkat doesn’t know is that you just lied to his face.  You don’t actually have a Star Wars prerequisite, you just wanted to make him watch them.

You already think of Karkat as your friend.

[averyonelovesjack]

better ~daniel seavey

requested: yes

Can u do one of Daniel when he gets jealous plz

summary: daniel’s fear of something better for y/n leads to an unnecessary fight

warning(s): cursing, jealousy, angst, shawn mendes

word count: 1603

My brain struggled to function properly as I stared around at beautifully decorated event. It seemed as if someone had spent millions and millions of dollars on this one event that was one night long. Everything seemed to be perfect. Perfect lighting, perfect table cloths, perfect center pieces. 

and most definitely, perfect celebrities. i tried my very best not to fangirl over the thousands of celebrities that were just beneath my nose. it was insane to see that the people i’d worshiped at seven were just standing in the same room as me, talking to each other as if nobodies like me weren’t there.

when i originally started dating daniel, i didn’t realize that i’d have the ability to go to these events-- or that he’d even want me to. i always assumed that he could go without me, and that i’d watch from home. i never expected my boyfriend to show up at my house two days before a major event and ask me what dress i’m wearing so he could match because he just assumed that i’d be his date. 

i tried my hardest not to flip my shit when my celebrity crush of several years appeared before us, smiling his beautiful canadian smile at my boyfriend. i listened to every word shawn mendes spoke, not daring look away from him as he talked to daniel, “hey, you’re daniel seavey, right? from that band, why don’t we?” 

daniel smiled back at him, “yeah that’s me”

“you’re shawn mendes” i stared at him and then quickly fixed myself, “i’m sorry, that sounded really strange i’m sure. I’m a huge fan, really” 

“It’s totally fine i get that all the time,” Shawn laughed, “It’s nice to meet you both” 

“You are so talented,” I admit to the nineteen year old, “i’ve seen a few of your concerts with my friends and i really love your performances” 

Daniel stared at me, making sure that i was close to his side as i spoke. Shawn returned my comments with a wide smile, “really? i’m so glad that you liked it. I absolutely love performing” 

“you’re extremely talented at it,” i blush as I speak to him.

“that’s so sweet of you. i’ll have to get you some more tickets” He offered and I was in awe at the generosity of this boy.

“really? that’s so kind!” i tell him. 

Daniel clears his throat, “i think we should get back to the boys” 

Shawn recognized my boyfriend and nodded his head, “of course! It was nice meeting you both” 

“you too” i gave Shawn a smile and followed Daniel away from my celebrity crush apart from my boyfriend.

The rest of the night was almost perfect. Everyone at the event was kind and I had a blast chatting with the dates of the other boys, including my very good friend Christina. It was overall pretty pleasant, other than my boyfriend’s ignoring me throughout the entire night. 

I’m not necessarily sure why he’s in such a bad mood with me, but he refused to talk to me, other than when i started the conversation. He could easily talk to all of the other boys, but the second i’d say something his attitude would turn sour and he’d give me short and rudely worded phrases before turning back to talk to someone else. 

Throughout the entire car ride home, Daniel refused to acknowledge me. That is, of course, other than when i turned up the music due to it being there’s nothing holding me back and he immediately changed the station and turned down the music all the way. I avoided doing anything to bother him at that point.

We returned back to my apartment and instead of getting out of the car to walk me at least towards the door, he stared out the window, not even daring to look at me. The way we’d started the night, i assumed that he’d spend the night and i knew he’d thought that too. But somewhere throughout the night, Daniel had grown tired of me.

I couldn’t tell if i was sad or angry about this, but i sure as hell wasn’t going to just let it happen. I opened the door to the car, held it for a few seconds, but then closed it. 

The loud slam of the nice car door made Daniel look towards me. My arms crossed over my chest as he had a scowl on his face, “what are you waiting for? a goodbye? bye love you” 

the last words were mumbled, which saddened me, but anger filled my body, “you’ve been a real dick all night, ya know that?” 

he was shocked at the words and the tone i’d chosen to take with him, “excuse me?” 

“excuse me? ha! excuse me? you fucking heard me. For some reason, you’ve seemed to be pissed with me for the entire night. I can take you ignoring me for a few hours, fine. I’ve dealt with worse. But the fact that you not only at first refused to say anything to me while dropping me at my fucking house, but could barely shove i love you out of your mouth pisses me off. So are you gonna grow up and tell me why you’ve been so annoyed with me all night?” 

“for some reason? for some reason? what about the fact that you practically made out with another guy in front of me,” Anger washed over my boyfriend as I stared blankly at him.

Confusion rushed over my face, “i have no fucking clue what you’re talking about” 

Daniel’s voice went high as he began to mock me, “oh shawn, you’re so talented! i’m such a big fan. oh shawn, i love you so much. oh shawn, marry me” 

I held back a laugh with the words he spoke and let the anger flush my face again. My back straightened in my seat as I turned to face him completely, my body towards his, “that’s what this is about? there are starving children out there and you choose to argue about the fact that i’ve talked to a guy that i like, that i’ll never even talk to after tonight” 

“you are so fucking in love with him,” he rolled his eyes.

“daniel, i’m a fan,” I tell him, “a fan. You know, the millions of fans you have” 

“that’s different” he told me.

“it’s different? oh it’s different because it’s you who has a million girls in love with him, rather than me being one of the million” i glare, “and would you even think about marrying one of them? even if they were all over you at an event? and do you think i’d get angry about that? or would i reason that they’re just a fan?” 

“of course i wouldn’t marry one of them,” he told me, “but that doesn’t change the fact that you were all over him like you didn’t have a boyfriend” 

“i wasn’t all over him,” i defend.

“are you kidding me? you were practically on top of him! i’m your boyfriend and you can’t even spare me the decency of cheating on me in private” 

i rolled my eyes so far back that i could practically see the back of my eyelid, “cheating?? you really think that it’s appropriate to accuse me of cheating when i talk to a guy?” 

daniel looked as if he’d regretted his accusations, “i didn’t mean- i don’t think you wil- whatever. I don’t like when you go and talk to another guy that you’re in love with” 

i looked away, scoffing, “danny, i’m not going to freaking cheat on you! ever. And i’m not in love with Shawn Mendes. I’ve loved his music for years now but do you think that i’ll really date him? I’m in love with you. It’s always been you, since the day that we met. There’s no chance of me getting up and leaving you for anything” 

“but what if something better comes along?” His voice nearly cracked at the end, “He’s won more awards, he’s got more music out. His shows are bigger and his following his larger. What if he’s better?” 

“god, danny! you think i’d leave you for something better?” i looked deeply into his eyes, “there’s absolutely no way i’d leave you for something better because you’re the best thing i could have. Nothing could be better than what you give me” 

“even if he wouldn’t get insanely jealous at stupid things?” Daniel looked sadly at me and I let a small smile appear on my face.

“even then,” i leaned in, kissing his cheek softly, “i’d never leave you, baby” 

he opened the door to his car and with that, i opened mine. the two of us met in front of his car, my small hand interlocking with his larger one. i smiled up at the taller boy, letting his presence give me the largest amount of happiness a person could feel.

the warmth of my apartment hit us as i closed the door behind me. danny flipped the small switch on the wall, bringing light to both of our eyes.

“i’m sorry for making you insecure about our relationship,” i tell him softly, “i love you so much” 

he sent me another faded smile, “i’m sorry for getting unreasonably jealous tonight. i love you so much more” 

i let his words finalize ours and wrap my arms tightly around him. Danny’s warmth attacked my body, leaving me to fall limp in his arms, taking in the scent of his familiar body.

[arwaaxxi]

Why me?

Summary- Having Daryl confess his feelings for you, was the only thing you ever wanted in this ruined world. But what happens when Negan shows up and everything changes.

[PART TWO]

[Previous Part]   [Next Part]

Characters - Father!RickxReader. DarylxReader. NeganxReader.

Note- it’s going to be a series.

Warnings- Smut in future parts, maybe? Violence. Abuse.

Number of words - 2044

I fucked up

I shouldnt have done this. I shouldnt have done this.

crap, crap, crap!!!!

I’m dead. they will kill me and kill everyone here because of me.

I’m so stupid! thats why dad never lets me do anything.

thats why daryl never noticed me

oh crap, Daryl!

I looked at him from the corner of my eyes.

his eyes were wide. everyone’s eyes was wide.

i had 200 guns pointed at me.

I’m going to get everyone killed.

I should have listened to Gabriel and stayed home.

“Let them go!” I said, trying to hold my grounds. trying to appear strong. keyword- trying!

“Wellll, Helloo there!” Negan said in a singsong voice

“Do you think you are cute? I will blow your brains out!” I said my voice raising. I pressed my gun harder into his head “Now!” I screeched and he raised his hands up in surrender.

“This, is sooo, not cool!” Negan said greeting his teeth.

“I said. LET. THEM. GO!” I said each word dangerously low.

“I say, how about you drop the gun, before someone gets hurt sweetheart?”

“If your men, take another step, from there place, I will seriously blow you all up!” I said, my voice fluttering in the end.

“You will regret this!” Negan said angrily.

“Y/n, drop the gun!” Carl said, his voice wavering with fear

“Y/n, get out of here” Michonne said

“Y/n, please.” Daryl said and thats when I half turned to take a good look at him. he was bleeding, oh god

“Y/N!” Dad’s voice yelled.

Before I could react, Negan had turned, and flipped the gun out of my grasp.

Everything happened fast.

The yelling, the kick I received in my abdomen, my hands being twisted behind my back and my hair getting yanked upwards and my face getting shoved in the ground.

Well, fuck!

“What do we have here!” Negan said as he squatted next to me looking at me.

Someone yanked my head up and now I came face to face with Negan

wow. if this wasn’t the time, i would totally tap that! but he was a maniac. who had my family on their knees and the only thing I’m going to tap, is my knife through his face.

“You are a kid!” Negan said amused

“Depends on your defenation of kid, asshole!” I spat

“Well, i give you A for the effort, sweetheart! but what you did here wasn’t cool, oh so not cool and I cant just stand for it. oh i certainly would not!”

“Just let us go, and we wont kill you!” i hissed at him, and the fucker holding my hair yanked it down and up again. i shut my mouth, trying to not hiss in pain

“Y/n, shut up!” Rick hissed and i rolled my eyes

“I dont think you realise who has the upper hand here, sweetheart.” Negan smirked

“Well how about you tell your minions to let me go and give me back my gun and we will see about that, asshole!” I snapped at him

“Y/n!” Daryl warned

Whats wrong with everyone, why is no one fighting. is this our end?

“I like your spirt!” Negan chuckled “Get her in line, with the rest!” Negan said and in a second i was yanked up and thrown in line next to Dayl

“What the hell were you thinking?” Daryl hissed at me, as he gave me a deadly glare

“You’re welcome!” i snapped back

“So what was I saying before I got interrupted?” Negan asked

“Picking who gets the honor.” A guy, with his hair combed back spoke

“Right!” Negan chuckled “I gotta say, this shit is hard!” he said as he started walking

Oh no. he was going to Carl, not Carl, dont you dare.

“You got one of our guns!” he told him as he kneeled in front of him “Lighten up, at least cry a little” he chuckled

“Leave him alone!” I said annoyed and some one hit my back with a gun

i fell on my face, fuck this was embarssing.

i looked up and it was the half burnt face dude, what was his name again? Elite? Blite? Dwight?

Dwight!

“Sweetheart, next time you cut me off, I’m going to do something you wont like!” Negan glared at me and i scoffed

“Next time you call me sweetheart, I’m going to do something you wont like. you know what, coming to think about it, I’m going to do something you dont like just to piss you off” I glared back at him and he smirked

what the hell?

why is this bastard smirking? I’m bloody serious!

he ignored me and went to Maggie

oh no, not Maggie

i turned to Glen, he was freaking out!

shit, shit shit

i showed have kept my mouth shut

if he hurts her because of me? oh god no

“You look like shit! let’s just keep you out of your misery right now!” he said as he raised his bat, swinging it. I closed my eyes shut, tight. I cant see this

“NO, GOD, NO!” Glen’s voice made me snap my eyes open

he has crossed to Maggie, lying in front of her. Dwight the fucking asshole was standing above him, with Daryl’s crossbow.

I’m going to get that crossbow back, and i will burn Dwight and Negan together at the stake, like they do to witches

Negan rubbed his jaw, his face turning serious “Nope, no! get him back in line!” he said annoyed, Dwight dragged Glen back, glen was whimpering.

“No, please no..” Glen sobbed

“Listen” Negan said “Dont anyyyy of ya, do that again!” he said as he swung the bat in front of everyone “I will shut that shit down! no exceptions! first ones free, its an emotional moment” he said “I get it!” he said cheerfully, flashing Glen, a hundred dollar smile.

what a fucking maniac!

Rick was sweating, his eyes tearing up. Maggie was swallowing her pain. Glen was sobbing. Eugene was terrified. Daryl was bleeding. Rosita didnt seem to register what was going on

And just now, it hit me. this might be our end.

i could be cocky and try to get his attention to keep him away from everyone else, as much as i wanted. but it wouldnt make a diffrence. we all were dead

he walked to Carl, oh no, please not again. kill me first before you touch anyone, please.

“He is your kid? right?” he said pointing at Carl. looking at Rick thoughtfully and then looking at Carl again, before turning to me “She is yours too!” he snickered. crap! “They are defiantly your kids!”

“So stop this!” Rick yelled

“Hey!” Negan yelled equally loud.

Fuck!

“Dont let me kill the little future serial killer, dont let it be easy on me!” Negan said pointing at Carl before turning to me and winking

what?

what just happened

“I gotta pick somebody! everyone is waiting for me at the table waiting for me to order!” he said as he started walking and whistling

how is he even this calm

“I got an idea!” he jumped excited. like he lost something and suddenly found it.

I’m going to kill this son of a bitch.

“Enie, Menie, Minii, Mo” he sang

WHAT THE FUCK

IS HE SERIOUS

Everything happened so fast, Negan choosing his victim, my hands shaking, my body stiffening, i wanted it to be me. i tried to speak, tried to volunteer, but I couldn’t find my voice, just Daryl’s hand holding mine tightly

“Anyone moves, anyone says anything, cut the boy’s other eye out and feed it to his father!” he smiled. he is sick. disguesting. I dispise him “And then we’ll start! you can breath, you can blink, you can cry. hell you all will be doing that!”

he said as he smashed the bat in Abraham’s head

I couldn’t turn, i couldn’t shut my eyes. I saw everything happen in front of me.

Abraham stood his grounds, not like he just got hit by a bat, through his brain.

Abraham is like my big brother, he thought me how to fix cars. he shared with me his secretes, his conflict emotions, his love for Sasha and the guilt he felt for leaving Rosita. Abraham is my big brother.

Everything started so fast, but Negan smashing Abraham’s skull went so slow, i saw it in slow motion, as if the universe was laughing at me, taunting me. I couldn’t breath. i tried to move but Daryl gripped my hand tight.

Michonne was the only person between me and Abraham, Michonne was the only barrier between us. Michonne do something. someone do somthing.

Sasha was whimpering, Rick was shivering. Rosita was crying.

Abraham was smiling softly.

he accepted this

i didnt accept this

“Oh look at that!” Negan’s voice echoed. Rick turned his face “Taking it like a champ!” he whistled. no…

“Suck… my… nuts!” Abraham’s chocked words came out

Negan swung again, and again, and again, and again.

“Did you hear that!” Negan laughed “He said suck my nuts!” he repeated as he started hitting a dead corpse.

Abraham was my big brother.

Rick tried to get up, but his legs seemed to fail him

Maggie was shivering.

Eugene was crying big fat tears.

“Guys! look at my dirty, gurl!” Negan smirked

He walked towards Rosita, and i felt Daryl stiffen next to me.

he pointed the bat towards Rosita “Look at this!! he smiled "Damn! were you two together? that sucks! but if you were, you should know there was a reason for all this, he just took six or seven for the team!” he yelled the last part and I could feel Daryl shift next to me, letting my hand go.

oh Daryl, I wont let you.

“Take a damn look!” he said “TAKE A DAMN LOOK!” he yelled making Rosita flinch.

Before Daryl could move, i shoved him back, and jumped on Negan, swinging my fist at his face.

if someone else was going to die today, it wont be you, Daryl. i wont let it ever be you.

I reached for my leg knife as i pulled it out as fast as i could, trying to stab Negan, but he pushed me off of him as easy as you shoved a book.

Two men shoved me to the ground, one of them stood on my hand, crushing it under his weight, making me let go of my knife. I’m ready to die, just leave Daryl alone.

“NO!” Negan yelled as he shoved the bat right in front of my face “Oh, no!” I could hear Daryl curse, I could see Rick’s tears fall, I could see Carl fall back scared, I smiled at him. its okay little brother. take care of Judith.

I sent my silent prayer to anyone who is listening

Negan walked away from me laughing

“Oh my! That!” he said smiling at me “That” he repeated as he squatted next to me, just like he did before as his men shoved my face in the dirt  "Is a no, no! The whole thing, not one bit of that shit flies here!“ one of his men moved away and Dwight approched me with Daryl’s crossbow, pointing it at me

"Do you want me to do it? right here?” he asked Negan.

“I’m going to kill you, and take that back!” I spat at him and he pointed it towards me head, Negan chuckled.

He took my hair in his rough big hands as he yanked it, not so hardly up. studying my face he looked back at Dwight

“No” he smiled, and i could see that this bastard has dimples

cause god went like, ‘Sure why not make a crazy phsyco manic, hot. wait lets give him dimples for extra measures, so that if his gun runs out of bullet he can kill with his bloody looks’ yeah thanks god!

“You dont kill that! not until you try a little” he said, what? he wont kill me? why?

His fucking men dragged me back in line, tossed me like i weight nothing.

i will have to eat more

“Anyway, thats not how it works, now i have already told you people first one is free! and when i said i will shut that shit down! no exception!” he said as he walked towards us, shooting me a gloating smile “Now i dont know what kind of lying assholes you have been dealing with but first impressions are important” he said as he stared at me for a couple of seconds before he turned his gaze away “I need you to know me” he smiled as he raised his bat in front of him, smiling evilly “So, back to it!” he said as he swung his bat.

he hit Glen

Maggie screamed

My eyes were open, wide

“Maggie….” Glen chocked

Negan made a remark but i didnt listen. I did this. i killed Glen

“I will find…. you” Glen chocked out

[mindyfication]

crumbling sand castles

for hiatus week 4: sam & @wincestwritingchallenge: sand castles rating: teen | demon!dean, priest!sam, raised apart partner: @dreamsfromthebunker | read on ao3

Sam’s been having the same dream for months. He’s on the beach with his big brother, both of them sun dried with salt caking their skin. The feeling is somewhere between an itch and a tickle, and it doesn’t matter as his big brother builds him another three bucket sand castle.

“You wanna do the honors this time Sammy?” he asks.

Sam windmills his arms happily, utter destruction as sand goes everywhere. His brother laughs and Sam laughs too, falls back against the beach. The sky is bright blue, not a cloud in sight, and everything is right with the world.  

His brother begins to say something then, something the dream never quite gets to, and Sam wakes up to church bells instead of roaring waves. For a brief moment, it still feels like a memory more than a dream, that there’s a grounding depth to it.

.

Sam was left on Saint Sebastian’s steps eighteen years ago. A toddler with an envelop containing his first name, no last, an apology to the priests, and a few hundred dollars donation. It didn’t take long for Sam to grow out of spite to being grateful that he has no way of finding his birth parents. He has no family but his fellow priests, no father but God.

It helps keep things straightened out in his head.

The nightmares started around the same time as the beach dreams, two sides of the same coin. They both strive to test his faith, to drive him from his purpose. But Sam has no need of promised ill-begotten power, no need to see those that abandoned him. It isn’t a coincidence that his parents are never at the beach with them, that it’s only his brother being offered. It’s harder to turn down, harder to wake from. But the older brother isn’t real, just like the yellow-eyed demon isn’t. Really, his imagination needs to calm down.

He’s been working in the garden lately, and goes there this morning as well. While he usually opts to hear confessions, to comfort and guide their flock, lately he’s needed the physical exertion. Only when his muscles ache will his thoughts quiet, will the temptations fade utterly. Sam’s nearly through replanting the tulips, last night’s storm had done more damage than he thought, when Father Brady approaches him. Nearest to Sam’s age at twenty-seven, they became dear friends when Brady joined Saint Sebastian’s after completing his schooling.

“Skipping out on confessions again Sam? Meg will be beside herself.”

“I have every faith in Father Matthews,” he says, replanting the last orange tulip.

“Matthews doesn’t have that je ne sais quoi.”

“He’s an excellent spiritual adviser,” Sam replies, standing up, pretending not to know what Brady means. Meg’s crush on him was Brady’s favorite thing to rib him about, that the petite blonde might make him rethink his vows. Brady’s smirk is a little too wide, his eyes almost seem black.

“Lunch?” Sam says, blinking away sun spots.

“Yeah, Jordan is on the stove today. No need to forage in the wild,” Brady jokes, his eyes back to normal.

After lunch there’s cleaning up and studying the bible and a discussion about free will and Father Josiah’s sermon and sleep and then Sam’s tending the church gardens once more. A shadow falls over him, and Sam doesn’t even look up, kneeling as he trims the white rose bushes.

“You’re early today Brady.”

“Sam?”

He fumbles at the voice, not Brady, putting the clippers down and standing. “Sorry, yes I am Father Sam. I don’t believe we’ve met?”

Sam doesn’t quite mean the words he’s speaking- the man looks impossibly familiar, yet he’s sure he’d remember that face.

Green eyes twinkle up at him, “I’m Dean. I’m your brother.”

Sam wants to object- he doesn’t have a brother, only a figment- but he can only get a single word past stunned lips, “How?”

Dean scratches the back of his neck, “It’s a long story. Can I buy you a beer- uh, a milkshake?”

“I’d like that. Let me just tell the others I’ll be out.”

Sam can hardly believe the green eyed boy is real, that he wasn’t one of the devil’s temptations, that he wasn’t a mere test. He sends a silent thank you up to the heavens, and walks with Dean to the nearest diner. Viggo’s is nearly empty as they arrive between the breakfast and lunch rushes. They take a little table outside, the entire deck all to themselves.

Dean stirs his coffee-oreo milkshake, meeting his eyes seriously. “I swear, I would have found you sooner if I knew you were alive.”

“What?” Sam asks, “Why did you think I was dead?”

Dean sighs, licking his long spoon clean. “When you were a baby, there was a fire. Killed Mom. Thing was, it wasn’t an accident and Dad spent his whole life tryin’ to find the bastard that did it.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Sam says, and it might be automatic, but it’s sincere.

“You were four when the monster found us. I was grabbin’ a soda and the damn thing set our motel room on fire, I couldn’t get you out. It was my fault and I thought-”

Dean can’t finish the sentence, but Sam doesn’t need him to, reaching across the table to grab his hands.

“Dean, you were a kid. Not your fault, not even a little bit.”

Dean’s wry smile doesn’t totally believe him, and Sam’s finding too much comfort in how easy it is to read him- in how well they fit together.

“Well tell me something about your life alter boy.” Dean says gesturing to his garb, “You always wanna be a priest? Ever rebel?”

Dean’s wriggling his eyebrows ridiculously, and Sam laughs, lets it go for now. It doesn’t occur to Sam until much later to wonder why Dean started believing he was alive or how he even found him.

.

Dean stays in a nearby motel, comes by the church every day around noon to steal Sam away for lunch. He always says it’s just for lunch anyways, but most days lunch turns into lunch and a drive, both of them laying in empty fields, sometimes talking, sometimes not. It feels like blasphemy the way Sam gets wrapped up in Dean, the way everything else fades away so easy.

The other priests don’t even mind that he’s been slacking off, giving him congratulations instead in his brother finding him. It makes him feel like a little kid again, like that time he smuggled a giant bag of twizzlers into his room and ate every last one. He’s getting away with it. (He isn’t positive what exactly it is, but he knows there’s something not yet definable that he isn’t willing to give up.)  

He doesn’t dream of the beach anymore or of the man with yellow eyes. Instead he dreams of Dean bringing person after person to him- Brady, Meg, Guy, Gerald, Viggo, Trish. Rodger- the whole town it feels like. Each and every one of them with black eyes, and each and every one of them he sends to hell.

Power races through his veins, wild and unchecked.

Dean brings him another, the same question as always, “You wanna do the honors this time Sammy?”

And Sam does, can still feel the rush as he wakes.

.

“Forgive me Father, for I am sin.”

Sam stopped tending the garden weeks ago, when the nightmares stopped. If he knew Dean would come in, he wouldn’t of. It’s too much, too intense. He isn’t objective like he should be.

“Dean,” Sam breathes, forcing his eyes resolutely forwards. He swallows, “You are one of God’s children, you do not contain sin but act sinfully.”

Dean’s quiet bark of laughter seeps through the confessional booth, and Sam pushes down the irritation. He’s been spending too much time outside the church lately, he used to have far better control over himself.

“Sorry Sam, I- I haven’t done this in a while.”

The words soothe and Sam berates himself again, he can do this properly. “It’s okay, tell me what burdens you.”

Dean exhales hard, “I’ve been having lustful thoughts.”

It’s a fairly common confession- especially from the younger church-goers- but for the first time, Sam feels his ears burning. He wants to know all sorts of inappropriate things about the thoughts his brother has been having and oh-

“As long as you do not act on them-”

“Oh but brother I want to,” Dean interrupts. “You’ll understand if I tell you, you see there’s this man I recently met. And he’s beautiful inside and out, devoted himself almost completely to God. But you see he’s supposed to be mine. And every time I see him, I want to bend him over and fuck the piety right out of him.”

Blood is pounding in his ears, and Sam’s fingers are clutching the bench he sits on, knuckles white. Sam can’t help but turn to the screen, mistake his brain screams, as he sees Dean lick his lips, going in for the kill.

“I wanna desecrate you Sammy.”

And Sam is lost, realigned in that moment, a single word racing to his lips, “Yes.”

[sending-the-message]

About Two Psychopaths by skyebluescars

You might think it’s silly, but I knew in third grade that Amanda was going to be my best friend for life. We were inseparable. I was standing in line waiting to play a game at Showbiz Pizza and Amanda let me cut in front of her. Afterward, we spent the rest of the afternoon laughing and playing in the ball pit. I was excited to find out that we went to the same school. Every day we’d eat lunch together and she seemed content to talk about whatever I wanted to talk about. You know, as I sit here and write this out, I can’t help but miss those days.

For almost seven years we had never had so much as a single argument. That all changed when I asked a boy in my math class if he’d like to join me for coffee after school. I don’t know if it was jealousy or maybe just that she didn’t like the guy, but from that day on it was all but impossible to go longer than a few days at a time without Amanda criticizing me for being with Kevin. In retrospect, I wish I had never talked to the guy, but hindsight is 20/20 ya know?

One thing was clear to me from the beginning; Kevin hated Amanda and Amanda hated Kevin. I felt like I was this object on a pedestal that each of them seemed to be fighting for. This all came to a head when Kevin thought it was be a good idea to prank Amanda and it resulted in a trip to the hospital. The final tally left me with a fractured skull, a rather disfiguring scar that stretched from my brow to my hairline, and minor brain damage. Also, I have to take seizure meds for the rest of my life. Mistake or not, that basically killed any feelings I might have had for Kevin.

I was more than just angry, I was devastated. I was going to be a model and an actress. All of that crushed by a boy who had seen one too many movies and thought school pranks were a good idea. Amanda was ready to kill him. Every day she’d offer some new and exciting way in which she’d destroy him. At first I told her to drop it, but as the wounds healed and the scar became more prominent, I finally told her to do whatever she wanted as long as she stopped talking about it. That was a mistake.

Not going to lie, when Kevin paid some kid to bring me a note, I almost thought it was sweet. I might have read two sentences before Amanda ripped it out of my hands and said, “Does that little shit think he’s gonna get away with this?” I should have spoken up but honestly I was conflicted about how to proceed and honestly the thought of Amanda going off on him made me smile. I suppose that’s why I said yes when she invited me to the Fall Formal. I knew something was going to go down, but I wasn’t sure what.

I’ve read both of their accounts of what happened. If you haven’t guess by now, both of them are full of it. Kevin sold Ketamine, pot, and pills. When we were dating, it wasn’t uncommon for him to gift me a joint every now and then. I watched Kevin put the powder in the punch bowl. That’s why I told Amanda to go get the school security officer. I even opted to dance with him while she waited. I could tell it upset Amanda that I sent her away while dancing with Kevin, but someone needed to keep him busy. I don’t know who he was going to try and leave with that night, but there’s only one reason you’d put that much Ketamine in someone else’s drink.

Amanda came back with drinks and I watched Kevin nervously drink from the cup. He was guilty and he knew it. Amanda had brought me water, I don’t wanna think about what might have happened if I hadn’t seen him dose the punch bowl. I took Amanda’s hand and led her out of the gym just as the school security officer came to grab Kevin. A chaperone was already emptying the punch bowl. Three kids ended up in the hospital. That wasn’t a prank, Kevin was going to end up hurting someone. I suppose that’s when it first clicked in my head that there was something very wrong with Kevin. On the surface he was very articulate and charismatic, but underneath that was a darkness than scared me.

The next three years were a dream. Amanda went back to being happy and cheerful all the time. We got into the same college and she even snagged us jobs at a local used book store. There’s something to be said for spending four to five hours a day with your best friend and getting paid for it. Each night I’d empty the register and tally up sales before putting all but a hundred dollars in the deposit bag and running it to the bank two blocks away.

One night I headed out to drop off the deposit bag when Kevin came out from behind me. He was drunk or high or something. I don’t know. What I do know is that he was shouting at me and he said something about me setting him up with the cops. I tried to hand him the deposit bag hoping he’d go away and the creep tried to hold my hand. I had never been happier to see Amanda than when she ran up and kicked him in the junk before emptying a can of pepper spray into his eyes. She led me by my hand back into the store and we let the cops deal with him. I would have been content never to see Kevin again, but Amanda had other plans.

I don’t like social media. I mean, I had a Myspace but it was all drama all the time. With the exception of Twitter, I don’t do the whole social networking thing. Apparently, Amanda had made a Facebook account in my name and even added most of our friends from high school. She had even set her main account and my account as being in a relationship. I thought it was weird, but in almost fifteen years of being friend she’d never so much as made a pass at me so I figured it was probably harmless.

Little did I know that she was catfishing Kevin using my pictures and pretending to be me via instant message. One day I was feeling particularly down and she invited me to join her for a walk through the city park. I wasn’t in the mood for it, but she assured me that it was just what I needed to feel great again. Turns out Amanda had set it up so that Kevin would be there waiting for me. It wasn’t enough that I never wanted to see the guy again. Amanda made it to where I never wanted to see her again. Kevin was convinced that he had been in an online relationship with me. Instead, I started having a panic attack and he got into a shouting match with Amanda that ended with a bystander jumping in and tackling him to the ground.

Amanda stood there laughing and I said, “Did you have anything to do with this.”

She got that same sheepish look on her face she’d get when I caught her stealing my shoes or dresses and I just knew. I knew she had set this whole thing up to punish Kevin and that she didn’t really care how I felt about it. I had a long time to think about our friendship after that and over the next few days I came to realize that there really wasn’t much of a difference between Kevin and Amanda. Both were obsessed with me. Both seemed intent on hurting the other. Neither of them seemed to actually care about my feelings. For Kevin I was some prize to be attained at the end of some quest. For Amanda I was at best a love interest and at worst an emotional dumping ground. I grew tired of all of the manipulation and lies. I packed my bags and moved in with my friend Aunt Susan.

The next few years were nice. I made friends at work. I even helped a girl named Charlotte work up the nerve to talk to this guy in her math class she kept gushing about. I regret that. Charlotte and I became fast friends, and then I met her new boyfriend, Kevin. I didn’t have many friends and frankly I didn’t want to be alone. Kevin sold me a good line and I bought it. He told me about his mental issues and his medication. He told me about how he’d been going to college and working. He even apologized for the things he had done while delusional. Like I’ve said before, he’s incredibly charming when he wants to be.

I started dating a guy from work and Kevin didn’t even bat an eye. James was a great guy, but when I told him about my past with Kevin, he instantly hated the guy. Still, he made it a point to pull Kevin off to the side and hang out with him when we went over to see Charlotte. Again, for almost six months Kevin never so much as said anything cross to me and never so much as flirted with me. By all outward appearances, he seemed completely and totally absorbed with Charlotte. I let my guard down. That was a mistake.

It all comes down to that fateful night. James went out of town for a military thing and I opted to stay with Charlotte and Kevin. I was sitting on their couch watching Netflix when someone used a key on the front door and walked in like they owned the place. It was Amanda. She was wearing a gun on her hip and dressed in all black. I looked up and said, “Amanda, what are you doing here?” There was a look of contempt in her eyes that I had never seen before. She reached for her gun and I screamed.

Charlotte came running out and Amanda shot her point blank in the head. Amanda turned to me and said, “What, you won’t be my friend anymore but you’re besties with the skank that’s fucking Kevin?” That’s when Kevin ran out holding a knife I stood up and said, “I’m just gonna go in the back room and let you two sort it out. That’s when Kevin grabbed me by the shoulder and pulled me into a headlock with the knife at my throat. He said to Amanda, “You took mine, it’s only right that I take yours.” Deep searing pain that burned white hot became all I could think about as he plunged the knife in and let me fall to the floor. I watched as he darted out the back door. I tried frantically to keep pressure on the wound my blood escaped onto the floor.

Amanda didn’t even stay behind to check on me. She ran after Kevin and left me bleeding on the floor next to my dead friend. Those paramedics saved my life, but those cops are idiots. I heard they let Kevin go and kept Amanda. Even now I have James sitting by my bed as I try to rest up. This is the second disfiguring scar that psychopath has given me. I won’t let him close enough to leave a third.