#but who knows! mistakes happen after all~~~ like bonus truck

[deus-ex-mona]

there are 31 days in mona’s april…

[miraculouscontent]

Didn’t Need Burrow (July 13th-July 19th)

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: No matter how badly Alya going behind Marinette's back to let Nino know that she's still Rena blows up in the heroes' faces, the series will act as though the REAL lesson is that Ladybug should have trusted Chat Noir with HER secret identity.

Which is going to be so “hilarious” when Marinette now has confirmed trauma from “Chat Blanc.”

emikogale asked:

I don't need a burrow to know that similar to Kagami, Luka will do a 180 and declare Marinette and Adrien are "ZOMG! Made for each other!"

Bonus if the episode itself showcases the typical reasons why the love square is awful.

Anonymous asked:

DNB to know Maribug will start to have feelings for Chat after his big blow up this season (AND/OR) the big reveal

Bonus: Adrichat starts having feelings for Marinette after the reveal (kinda already confirmed in ChatBlanc ik but I mean it happens in the canon timeline too)

Ah, the eventual “joy” of Marinette falling for the guy she’s constantly picking up the slack of. :|

neyla9 asked:

DNB: At some point, we're gonna get an It's a Wonderful Life-style episode, showing Marinette or Adrien a timeline where they didn't exist Hawk Moth won or got more miraculouses and everything is awful; if it focuses on Marinette, everyone in this alternate timeline will blame and shame her for not being there, telling her it's all her fault this happened. If it focuses on Adrien, everyone will coddle and love him and talk about what a shame it is that they were never able to meet him before. Bonus points if Marinette/Adrien meet the Chat Noir/Ladybug of this timeline, and it is just the exact same thing: Chat Noir being angry at Marinette for not being there, and Ladybug stroking Adrien's ego about how funny and amazing he is, and it's no wonder she failed to defeat Hawk Moth when she didn't have him.

Honestly, just the episode being “It’s a Wonderful Life” style in general is a red flag regardless of what they do.

If they do one where everyone’s actually better off, it’ll be in specific areas to be some sort of lesson on how Marinette isn’t 100% perfect and she needs to strive to be better. If they do one where everyone’s worse off, it’ll be a lesson on how Marinette needs to solve everyone’s problems and squeeze herself dry.

Anonymous asked:

DNB: Alya will ultimately be PRAISED for lying to Marinette about the Nino situation and/or other matters, because Mari is Always Wrong.  Even if her fears about the potential consequences of Nino Knowing prove 100% justified, the fallout is blamed 100% on HER, while Alya is absolved of all blame and told her judgment was sounder and that she was Right to not listen to Marinette.

The thing that terrifies me most about this one is the fact that they would clearly go for this idea that Marinette has been working herself into a panic over “nothing” despite the fact that MARINETTE HAS BEEN TAUGHT THESE RULES, SHE DIDN’T MAKE THEM UP.

It’ll basically be like Alya brushing her off in “The Puppeteer 2” (with the whole “nooo, I didn’t tell him anything... and even if I did--ugh, it doesn’t matter!”) but worse.

Anonymous asked:

DNB: Marinette renounces the Miracle Box and passes it on to Alya, nobly forfeiting all her Miraculous-related memories in the process.  Alya promptly makes her Ladybug again.  This does NOT restore her memories, but is used as an easy excuse for her to make more mistakes/suffer for her inexperience.  Alya, Adrien, Tikki and others angst over her 'selfish decision' while Mari is expected to just keep trucking along, accepting all the blame and responsibility heaped upon her shoulders.

Honestly, it’ll probably be used as some sort of triumphant thing, like we as an audience aren’t supposed to be happy at her giving up Ladybug so this is supposed to be a good thing that she’s getting it back.

Anonymous asked:

DNB: Love Square gets reversed by Marinette giving up Guardianship to Alya and losing her memories.  Alya forces her to be Ladybug again, starting over from scratch, and she starts falling for her 'more experienced' partner.  Adrien, meanwhile, resents the reset because he hates that she's forgotten him, that he has to be more responsible (actual responsibility on his part optional), and other self-centered reasons, so he takes it out on her.

How did you make the above one even worse, I’m hurting!!

Anonymous asked:

DNB: The fact that Nino BLATANTLY STALKED ALYA when he suspected her of two-timing him with Chat Noir will be used as justification for Adrien amping up his own behavior and trying to stalk/spy on Ladybug, because iT's NoT fAiIiIiIiR that she's not giving him everything he wants, relationship and all.

God, these two just giving each other “””advice.”””

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: That Lukanette Instagram Scene was meant to push the LS or LukZoe agenda :)

:)

Part of me is just waiting for Marinette to reveal her identity with Luka in consideration of them trying again, but Luka misunderstands in someway due to Adrien being nearby and he tells her all about how he’ll support her with Adrien (bonus if LukZoe has either happened off-screen or is clearly going well) and Marinette is just, “o-oh... yeah, right--”

Because Marinette is always late to everything since she’s living two lives at the same time and doesn’t have room to sort out how she feels at the same speed as everyone else.

Anonymous asked:

Didn't Need Burrow: Chat will get angry about LB refusing a reveal when Rena and Cara know each other's identities. He'll act like he has a right to know and since she's the Guardian now the rules should be different. They have an argument and hello, Chat Blanc 2. Alternatively they will reveal themselves and Marinette will be upset her crush is the same guy who won't take "no" for an answer.

I’ve basically just accepted “Chat should’ve been told first/Chat had a right to know,” and it’s just a matter of how...

Anonymous asked:

Don't Need a Burrow: Finally we will get Ladybug with wings... but this will be due to Wings Power-Up potion. Obviously Chat Noir and Rena Rogue/Furvit will also get this power-up.

If she gets nice things, Chat has to get it too.

(no, I don’t count Charm Bug considering that that’s just them putting her slightly closer to having an outfit as complex as his)

Anonymous asked:

Sort of a theory but putting in as Didn’t Need Burrow: The love square will switch with ladybug starting to feel like Chat Noir is more respectful and helps keep her balanced (she doesn’t know about his emotions so don’t anyone try and pin that on her) and Adrichat will start to like Marinette as she provides him comfort (even if she might not know the full extent). This is all done for the big ladynoir fallout to *drumroll* hurt Maribug in the most possible way!! (This can be manipulated however you like, I just wanted to share my thoughts 💖) ((And to anti-salters who want to call me out for this thought, >;P ))

So basically, Ladybug/Marinette getting closer to their respective interests just to make the hurt for her all the stronger.

Adds up, honestly.

[fruitcoops]

Blink In Sight

Part 2 of the Coops smut series, ft some Cap loving as requested! Credit for Coops/ Sweater Weather goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for blowjobs and more mid-sex laughter

Contrary to popular opinion, the kitchen was Remus’ favorite room in the house. It wasn’t even a room, technically—one little island separated it from the adjoining entryway and an empty doorway led to the main hall. The island was the perfect height for him to sit on and drown in kisses from his fiancé, too, which was just an added bonus.

“Are the sandwiches almost ready?” Sirius muttered against his mouth.

Remus leaned to the side to look over his shoulder at the stove and squinted in the light from the hanging bulbs after having his eyes closed for so long. Small wisps of steam curled around the pan’s lid. “Probably. You want to check?”

Sirius heaved a heavy sigh, but released his waist and grabbed the spatula from the countertop. He made a pleased noise when he flipped the sandwiches and Remus smiled to himself; he loved the little moments like this, sitting in a quiet kitchen together. “Ta-da!” Sirius presented the sandwiches with a flourish and nearly tipped them right out of the greased pan. “Oh, shit!”

“Do we need plates?” Remus asked even as he carefully took one out with his bare fingers. The buttered bread was hot, but he was brutally hungry and practically inhaled it. Between winning their game, the accompanying adrenaline rush, and (in James’ eloquent words) getting railed by his fiancé, it was a miracle he had lasted this long without food. “I love you.”

“Because I make grilled cheese?” Sirius asked around half a sandwich. When Remus nodded, he pumped his fist. ”Nailed it.”

“This might be the only thing you can cook, but it’s so fucking good. Can you make another one?”

“We’re out of bread.”

Remus’ shoulders slumped and he hopped down off the counter, wincing slightly at the dull ache in his legs. He had to start doing more squats for a variety of reasons, and tonight had only proved that. The blast of cold air from the fridge made him shiver as he sifted through Tupperware containers from previous dinners. “We’ve got leftover lasagna, some of my mom’s cake, and there might be some canned soup in the cupboards.”

“That’s it?”

“Well, I’m not really in the mood to cook.” Remus grabbed the lasagna pan and stuck it in the microwave while Sirius took two forks out of the drawer. “My lower back is killing me.”

“I must confess, I still believe,” Sirius sang under his breath. “Still buh-lieve.”

He turned to him with a wide smile. “When I’m not with you I lose my mind, give me a sign!”

“Hit me baby one more time!” they both shouted at the top of their lungs. I love you, Remus thought as the microwave pinged and Sirius took the pan out. I love you wildly. Do you know that?

“Sirius?”

“…yes?” Sirius looked mildly concerned at the sound of his actual name. Remus drummed his fingers on his hipbones and pressed him against the kitchen island, kissing him deeply for a few hertbeats. “Is that a request for round two?” He looked a little dazed—Remus kissed him once more, chaste and quick.

“Nope. I just love you a lot.” His mouth tasted like coconut and honey. “Are you wearing chapstick?”

“Uh-huh. Lips were dry from the cold air.” Sirius took another two seconds to collect himself before passing Remus a fork and scooting over to make room for him. “Tonight is supposed to be celebrating you, you know.”

“It is.” Remus knocked their hips together lightly. “Making you feel good makes me feel good, plus there’s the fact that you also scored two goals and led the team to victory, oh great captain of mine.”

The corners of Sirius’ eyes crinkled as he stuck a forkful of lasagna in his mouth. “Playing hockey with you might be my favorite thing ever, but this is a close second.”

“What, eating lasagna straight from the pan like responsible adults?”

“Yup. It’s so normal.”

Remus thought for a moment, tapping the base of his fork against his lips. Sirius was right—they did not lead very normal lives at all, and being able to come home after playing sports in front of thousands of people cheering their names was refreshing to say the least. “Yeah, it is. I like being normal with you.”

“I like being normal with you, too.”

They ate in comfortable silence, bumping elbows, shoulders, or forks every once in a while. It had been over a month since their engagement and Remus still felt his stomach flip every time Sirius’ ring caught the light just so. They had been through hell and back together, and he was looking forward to many, many more years of well-deserved peace. “We should start decorating for the holidays soon,” Remus mused.

“I don’t have any decorations.”

“Really?”

A faint pink flush spread across Sirius’ cheeks, and it wasn’t the sexy kind. “I didn’t really have anyone to put them up with before, so I just…never saw the point.”

Sometimes, Remus made the mistake of forgetting just how alone Sirius had been, and it always hit him like a Mac truck whenever a reminder popped up. “Well,” he said around the tightness in his throat. “We’re changing that. We’ll pick up a tree and I’ll teach you to make Christmas cookies and we’re getting some stockings for the mantle.”

“You want to do that?”

Remus set his fork down and nudged him gently with his shoulder. “As long as you do.”

“Could we invite your parents and Jules over for Christmas?” Sirius asked.

“I bet they’d love that.” Something caught his eye and he craned his neck to see further around the corner. “Is that…my shirt? Over there by the front door.”

“What?” Sirius’ deeply thoughtful look vanished and he followed Remus’ sightline, letting out a delighted laugh. “It is! Merde, that means mine is definitely still on the stairs.”

“Do we clean now or later?” Remus looked down at the empty lasagna pan and frowned. “I don’t really want to do the dishes.”

“Well…”

“Wait until tomorrow?”

“Wait until tomorrow.”

“Living room?”

“Living room!” Sirius grinned and Remus backed him down the hall, both of them stumbling a little over their own feet in the darkness. They had had the foresight to put away all the clean laundry, so there was plenty of free space for Remus to push him down into the couch and slide his fingers beneath the band of his sweatpants as he straddled him. When he leaned back to catch his breath, Sirius’ smile turned devious.

“What?”

“How’re your thighs doing?”

“My wh—Sirius.” Remus smacked him on the arm.

“Should we switch?”

“Oh, my god!”

“Can you stand up?”

“One time. One time and you’re giving me grief for it.”

“Are you sure you’re—” Sirius broke off into giggles as Remus began tickling his sides mercilessly. “I’m sorry!” he gasped. “I’m sorry, I take it back!”

“Really?”

“Yes!”

Remus crossed his arms and looked down at Sirius. “Hmm.”

Hope lit up his face. “Round two?”

“The puppy eyes are impossible to deny,” Remus said wryly as he made his way down Sirius’ body and plucked at his sweatpants.

“Re—”

“Do you want me to?” Remus asked.

“Well, yeah, but this is Loops appreciation night.”

He licked his lips and began pulling Sirius’ sweatpants down his thighs. “I promise I feel very appreciated. Can I please blow you now?”

“Absolutely, but it’s your turn after…” Sirius’ sentence trailed off as Remus pressed a series of openmouthed kisses down his half-hard shaft. “After, uh, this.”

He hummed his agreement and goosebumps broke out along Sirius’ thighs, spreading all the way up his chest and arms as well. Remus took his time; there was no rush, no competition, just pouring out his love for his fiancé in a way that happened to include taking his dick further and further into his mouth.

Strong, calloused dingers threaded into his hair as he sank down and short whimpers spurred him on. Remus swallowed and the hands tightened, which sent a wave of tingling warmth all the way to his toes. “Is that good?” Sirius panted above him. Judging from the fast-twitching muscles in his thigh and the slight strain in his voice, he was doing everything in his power to keep his legs steady for Remus.

“Very good,” Remus said, leaning his cheek against Sirius’ inner thigh and grinning. He rubbed the heels of his hands down Sirius’ legs and traced small circles in the dips of his ankles just the way he liked it, and Sirius arched his back. “Can I try that thing I did the other day?”

“Fuck yes.” Sirius’ answer was carried on the tail end of an incredulous huff and Remus placed a line of quick kisses up his inner thigh before sliding his mouth down over the tip and going until his eyes stung. God, he’s so hard, he thought as Sirius keened and pulled lightly on his hair again. He pressed the back of his tongue underneath the head of Sirius’ dick, making him shudder. “Re—sweetheart, I’m so close, move if you don’t want—”

Remus hollowed his cheeks abruptly and the salty liquid that had been leaking into his mouth was suddenly replaced by thick ropes of come; he swallowed as much as he could and carefully pulled off, stroking Sirius through the aftershocks before pulling his sweatpants up and straddling him once more.

“How are you real?” Sirius wondered aloud as he automatically reached out to smooth his hands from Remus’ hips to his knees. He looked like he had had an epiphany, like an angel had appeared and whispered some long-awaited secret to him. “We were talking about having your parents over for Christmas and then you just fucking…” he trailed off and shook his head as Remus wiped away some spit that had gathered on his lips. “You and your magic mouth.”

“It’s a talent that I can’t put on my resume,” Remus teased as Sirius flipped their positions. “I have to do something with it. Plus, you sound good.”

Vibrant red—the sexy kind, this time—highlighted Sirius’ cheeks and he rested his forehead on Remus’ stomach to hide his smile. “You’ll be the death of me.”

“Not yet. Maybe later, if you’re good.”

Sirius looked up and quirked an eyebrow. “Who’s the one with a praise kink, here?”

“You tell me,” Remus shot back playfully. His back muscles relaxed as Sirius ran a firm hand over the bulge in his sweats and he settled one arm over his head to make a little more room for his shoulders. Their couch was fantastic for cozy cuddles, but just slightly too narrow for them to comfortably lay flat without hanging over the edge a little.

His head tilted instinctively as Sirius pressed his mouth to his dick through the fabric, surrounding him in sticky heat that sent zaps of electricity up his spine. “You really are a Lion, aren’t you?” Sirius laughed when he traced Remus’ ribs.

“Hmm?”

“You purr.” Sirius propped himself on his elbows and tapped his sternum. “Right here, when you really get going, you start to hum a little bit. It’s cute.”

“Really?” In the midst of his internal crisis about just how long he had been doing that, Remus’ brain suddenly snapped back to the present as Sirius pressed his tongue to his slit and closed his mouth around the head. “Oh, fuck.”

His calves were settled over Sirius’ shoulders—when did they get there again?—and his eyes fell shut in pleasure before he could get a proper look at Sirius’ face. Unrelenting pressure enveloped his dick on all sides and a clever tongue flickered along the shaft as Sirius sucked him off in sure strokes. Most of his muscles were still sore from the game, but the extra burn was a welcome distraction that kept him from coming the second Sirius’ hand cupped his balls.

“You—you—unh.” Remus’ brain went foggy and he pressed his heels down on Sirius’ shoulder blades, urging him deeper. “Please.”

Sirius moved to hold his thighs down, which was probably for the best considering Remus wasn’t sure he was entirely in control of his limbs at the moment, and pulled off, moving to map out the veins on Remus’ dick with his lips and tongue. He shushed him softly at one point and Remus clenched his jaw around the whines that came out on nearly every breath.

He teetered on the edge for long enough that he only had a half-second of clarity to tap Sirius on the shoulder before he was dissolving into bliss. The sensation around his dick did not diminish until he jolted with sensitivity, and only then did he realize Sirius was peppering his face with small kisses. “Welcome back,” Sirius said, just smug enough that a thrill raced through Remus’ belly. “That was for your first goal.”

“I’ve still got one more to cash in, right?” He kissed him lightly and the salt on both their lips made his heart pound.

“Mhmm. Water first, then bedroom?”

Remus had no idea how he was going to manage another orgasm tonight, but the look in Sirius’ eye as he pulled him off the couch by his hands was plenty of incentive to at least give it a try.

[joshslater]

Werehick

Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

I don’t know when it actually started. I had been aware of time slipping for me occasionally. I might have thought it was Sunday and it turned out to be Monday, but I had shrugged them off as a result of stress. The alternative would have been some mental disorder, and you really don’t want to go there in your self diagnosing. It wasn’t until after the “break in” it started to become a regular occurrence. A serious one as well. Best I knew I woke up Saturday morning to a trashed apartment. Well, not totally trashed, but a few items broken, lots of things moved around, empty beer cans on the floor, some money missing.

I was shocked I managed to sleep through whatever had transpired in my apartment, and a little scared to what could have happened, what could have been done to me. Perhaps something had been done to me? Perhaps that was why I slept through it all. I couldn’t figure out any reason for it. Sneak into someones apartment, at great risk, tranquilize the sleeping resident, and then throw a party. Did they use sleep gas, like they do when they rob truckers sleeping at truck stops?

It was when I decided to call the cops I got the chills. The phone said it was Monday morning. The whole weekend gone! I decided the police had to wait, as I hurried to work. I got there enough on time to not be suspicious, but obviously I spent the entire day thinking of little else. As a creative writer at an ad agency my hours are flexible, and as long as I deliver in time and at quality no one cares, but it would still be weird to not show up at all. But I barely managed to do anything useful while there. I felt tired, mentally drain, and sore in my muscles, as if the adrenaline of the morning had a lingering effect. Above all, questions and thoughts kept popping up. Do I need to change locks? Are there now drugs stashed in my apartment? Did they do something else to me? Is that why I feel funny? Do I need to schedule a doctors appointment? What would I say that wouldn’t lock me up?

Cleaning up in the apartment took less time than I had feared, and once done I realized there was even less for the police to do. What was the crime? Where was the evidence? As the days passed, it was almost like it hadn’t happened. Oh, how wrong I was.

A couple of weeks later it happened again, only this time I woke up wearing someone else’s clothes. It smelled like sweat and auto repair shop even before I opened my eyes, and I practically jumped out of bed when I looked at myself. A worn under armour hoodie, filthy, threadbare jeans, and workers boots, splattered with caked mud. There was a light brown outline on the sheets where my body had rubbed dust into the fabric.

I could feel my heard pounding, as I ran through the rooms of my apartment to see if anyone was still there. Only later did I realize I didn’t have a plan for what to do if I had found someone. As before the place was a mess, but I sensed more things were missing.

I rushed into the bathroom and started to rip off the clothes. I smelled like someone else, I looked like someone else, and I hated it. I felt violated, somehow. This wasn’t just drawing a dick with a sharpie on someone drunk. I threw the hoodie on the floor. I tried to pull off the boots, heel against toe, but it didn’t work. I almost felt trapped that I couldn’t just throw off all the shit that was on me. I sat down on the toilet and frantically tried to untie the knots on the boots. It for sure took longer than if I had been calm. It didn’t help that I saw dirt under my finger nails. Once the first boot was off I reeled back from the smell of stale foot juice. Someone else’s warm boot smell, and on my foot, a thick, grey sock. I yanked it off, fast as I could, and did the same on the other foot.

Though the end was near, I just felt more and more trapped. The jeans had a belt with a belt buckle large as my hand. I undid it, and undid the buttons. The worst for last. Under the jeans I wore a jockstrap. Not any of the sexualized neon-pink ones from a pride parade. No, some disgusting, once white jockstrap with a few blue and red lines on the waist band. I got out of the jeans, and then as quickly as possible pulled off the jockstrap and thew it in the heap with the other shit.

My heart was still racing, the room smelled of feet and sweat and diesel, and my sight was transfixed on the pile of clothes on the floor. It took probably a minute to calm down. I looked in the mirror. There was a clear dirt line where the hoodie ended and my neck started. Determined I walk out of the bathroom to the kitchen to get a plastic bag. I needed to put all of the clothes away before I started to shower. I shuddered to imagine what damp air would to do them and the smell they would give off.

It started out brownish and took a while until the water running into the shower drain was clear. Only then did I start with soap. One full body pass with hard soap and one with some liquid soap. Then two thorough shampooings and finally one pass conditioner, something I rarely use. But I felt like I needed it this time.

I wasn’t at all surprised to find that it was again Monday, not Saturday, when I checked my smartphone. I made a deal with my project manager on Slack to work from home. I needed to vacuum and wet wipe the entire apartment to get the dirt out, figure out what was missing, and try to figure out what the hell was going on.

Assessing the damage I could immediately see that my hunch of things missing was true. A few art pieces were gone, and most of my formal clothes as well. It was just bizarre. The state of my apartment didn’t make sense either. It didn’t look like someone had thrown a party, but rather as if they had squatted there. Rifled through my stuff like a burglar, but also lounged around, dragging dirt all over my carpets and furniture. I was trying to think back to the last time it happened, what was different from then. This was like a serial killer story on CSI. They keep getting bolder and bolder after each kill, at least in the show. Did this guy, whoever he was, think his method was perfected enough that he could come and go as he wished. Even mock me by dressing me up. Who knows when he’ll...

I dropped everything and checked my phone calendar. This was the last weekend of the month, and last time it had happened was also the last weekend of the month. I flipped back through the month in the calendar, desperately trying to remember anything about the previous times I had lost track of time. For all the ones I could remember anything about, they had all been the last weekend of the month. So that was his pattern. How had I not seen that before? All I needed was some go pro or something. Motion activated, long battery time. I was doing some of my best work in a long time that afternoon. “Perhaps you should work from home more often” my project lead told me on slack.

It was such a roller coaster of a day, I reflected, as I took my second shower. Despite having thrown away the clothes, that smell of sweat lingered. Probably my imagination, but I had also spent several hours scrubbing floors, so my body was sore all over. I felt like I’ve had quite a workout, which probably was true. As I let the water wash over me I was thinking of all the different places to put cameras in the apartment. I wanted as few as possible, for cost reasons of course, but have as wide and good coverage as possible, yet be hard to find.

Something had not gone according to plan. I had purchased the cameras well in advance, tried them out, and checked the footage. All great. I had put limits on my credit cards. Made backups of my computer. Hid away some of the more valuable items. Everything was set when I went to bed. I was nervous, sure, but fully expected to wake up with the face of my tormentor recorded. At least I had expected to wake up at home.

This looked like a scrap yard, and my bed had been a bunch of cut up cardboard boxes. It took some minutes to get my bearings. My entire body felt stiff. I must have slept here, in the cold, on the hard surface all night, and I didn’t have much clothes on either. A tattered T-shirt, just as distressed jeans, and a pair of OK jogging shoes. I smelled like I hadn’t showered all week. Looking to my left I could see a camera on a rack of junk, looking back at me. It might even be one of the ones I bought and hid. So much for that attempt.

As I got up to get it, I something more than just soreness, and looked again at myself. Since when was I this ripped? My arms were way larger than when I went to sleep. My work is sitting with a lap top, writing almost the same thing over and over. I don’t have veins that pops. There is nothing that bulges when I bend my arms. Apparently I do now. Even without a mirror I could tell the rest of the body had changed just as much as well. What the hell is going on?

I stood up and walked a step to the camera. Everything felt wrong. My center of gravity was somehow off. My pose was different. My gait was different. It’s like my newly gotten muscles forced me to move differently, or they would rub against my body, stopping them. The small camera was recording, but I had no means to view it here, wherever I was. I stopped it, grabbed it and started to look for an exit.

After a few minutes of random turns in the heaps of trash I found a clearing and an open gate. An older man in a neat, but worn, blue coverall sat in a plastic chair, reading some papers and drinking coffee from a cup of out of place fancy china.

- Kyle! Here this early? I didn’t even know you were here.

Kyle? Who is this man mistaking me for? No time to figure that out. I have no idea where I am, what time it is, or how to get home, and I need to get there before anyone gets suspicious.

- The early bird. What time is it anyway? - It’s 5... 48.

I thanked him and exited. Once outside of the gates I started to recognize where I were. This was the industrial park south-west of the city. Lots of small and medium companies have lots there. The other kind of “lots”. God, and I’m a copywriter. It would be almost an hour walk to get home from here. I started to pat my pockets to see if I had any money or anything on me, and almost jumped and yelped.

I have a monster cock. It’s huge! You don’t just suddenly grow a large penis in your twenties. Certainly not while sleeping through a weekend. I just realized that perhaps I was wrong there too. It could be a year later for all I knew. I might not even have an apartment to come back to. I found my keys in my right front pocket and some wrinkled cash in my left.

I managed to find a bus stop at the outskirts of the park, with a bus passing every 30 minutes according to the posted schedule. I reckoned that even if I had just missed a bus, it would still be faster to wait for the next. Thankfully it was deserted. People would be travelling to their work at this hour, and most would come by car anyway. So I got to stand there and be self conscious all by myself. What a crude and obscene sight I must be, perhaps less so out here with literal blue collar workers, but at least pushing it. I couldn’t wait to incinerate these tattered clothes, and scrub myself an hour in the shower to get rid of this stench of man and machine parts. I just realized I would be on public transport in this state. Perhaps walking would be preferable after all.

At that moment the bus just rounded the bend in the distance. It would be weird to not take it now. The bus came to a stop just in front of me, and two hispanic looking men stepped off at the rear and I stepped on. I picked up my wad of cash and asked the driver how much for a single to town center.

- Travel card or travel app only.

I didn’t move, trying to come up with something to convince him to take me anyway. Pay him personally perhaps.

- Just take a seat.

The bus took a depressing sight seeing tour of our declining manufacturing industries before heading back into town. I can see from the time, date and temperature a gas station sign that it is just Monday two days later from when I went to sleep. Whatever had happened, happened during those 72 or so hours. My normally noisy mind was quiet. I couldn’t come up with any explanation for what was going on. Some 24 minutes later, according to the bus clock, I was reasonably close to home to walk.

Predictably my home was in a mess when I opened the door. On the floor were pieces of smashed surveillance cameras mixed with dried dirt, ripped papers, shredded clothes and other parts of my life smashed to bits. At least my laptop was unharmed, sitting on the living room table. I would have to deal with the rest of the apartment later, but my immediate concern was the camera I brought with me. I connected a USB cable between it and the laptop, and the vendor app started automatically.

The software showed the final frame of the video, with me pressing the off button at the junkyard. Fuck, I looked terrible, and almost unrecognizably different. I clicked at the start of the progress bar and the image switched to an interior view of my apartment, from what I thought had been a clever place in the bookcase to hide the camera. Into view walked me, in only underwear. Was I sleepwalking? What was this? The me in the video looked like how I remembered myself from this Friday, but he walked “looser”, for lack of a better term. He, I, looked furious.

- What the fuck is this shit? Yo spying on me now, fucking lib? Making your own fucking government spy program?

He was holding another camera in his hand, and threw it at the wall, showering the room with cheap, Chinese plastic shards.

- Just typical of you people, ain’t it? Can’t stay out of honest folks lives. I’ll fucking show you then. All this bullshit has to go. “Ooooo! Look at mee! I type on a compuuuter for living!”

He spat a large glob of spit somewhere on the floor off camera.

- I’ll butt into your life then. See how you like that? I’ll show you what a real fucking american looks like.

And he reached out to the camera and pressed the off button. It instantly cut to almost complete darkness. He could just barely make out the outline of a man moving, illuminated by the far distant sodium light. The camera then did cuts after cuts, as the motion detection turned on and off recording. As I fast forwarded It became apparent this was the camera setup recording me as I was sleeping on a stack of cardboard.

I didn’t even watch to the end, but just threw the laptop on the table and looked around in disbelief. “Schizophrenic” was all I could think. That was the only explanation that made sense. Somehow I was switching between me and this douchebag on a set schedule. Or was that imagined also? What about the body? Did I imagine that? Or did I imagine my old body and this was the real one? No, schizophrenic isn’t the word. What’s the real medical one... Multiple Personality Disorder! That’s the one! Fuck! I’ve been off my game all morning. Did my mind change too, and not just the body?

I picked through the devastation of my home. Almost all of my clothes were gone, replaced with distressed and dirty clothes that looked like it belonged to a teenager, mechanic and/or farmer. Most of it off brand, but some fox racing and carhartt stuff looked almost new. Where was all this shit coming from? This time I didn’t just dump everything in a trash bag, but tried to sort through the mess. If this really was a Dr. Jekyll and Kyle situation, perhaps it was best to keep as much of this shit as possible, or he would just drag in more. All of my broken stuff had to go though.

As I got rid of the last torn book pages and shredded tie, I realized that I didn’t actually miss all my stuff. I was more upset with how I lost it. I was just about to head out for lunch when I saw myself in the mirror. I’d spent all morning in that shitty T-shirt, jeans and shoes without thinking about changing. Suddenly I felt dirty again. Damn him!

This time the surprise was that there wasn’t any surprise. I stepped out of the shoes and found I had no socks on me, which felt icky to me. As I started to pull down my jeans I found I didn’t have any underwear either. I stopped at the knees and was transfixed with what I saw. My dick and balls where probably twice my old size. The legs looked stronger than before. I undressed the last part of the jeans just with my legs, and could clearly hear them rip further. Then I grabbed the T-shirt and pulled it off in one motion, and got a good whiff of really strong body odor. The upper body was something else. I had abs. I had pecs. Not huge ones, but well defined. My body had never looked this good before, and probably never would if it had been only up to me. I spent a really long time cleaning myself in the shower. How the fuck was this possible?

Andy was the first one to say something, perhaps even the first one to recognize me.

- Wow! What the hell happened here?! - Morning Andy. Just some workout that paid off. - Bulk payment? Well, you look great. I like the hipster look.

I had washed a pair of carhartt pants and a plaid shirt, brushed some boots clean, and managed to dress close to what one of our art directors looked like, but with muscles. As much as I hated all the crap in my apartment, it did fit my body, and it would take both time and money to replace it all, so I gathered I would use what I could. There was no hiding this body anyway.

It was a weird day in many ways. In one way it was like I was a new employee, with looks and outright stares from women, and a few guys, I didn’t know very well. Some people I had barely talked to before, mostly quite fit men, chatted with me to assess if I would fit in their social circle. And those I worked with the most couldn’t stop giving remarks about my body, some flattering, some jokes, many subtly envious, and several hurtful in the line of meathead and jockywriter.

I was obviously self conscious all the time. Even when I didn’t have eyes glued on me, or remarks woven into every dialogue, I could feel my body in a way I had never done before. I couldn’t sit the same as before. My legs were different. My junk was way different. My arms rubbed against my body in a new way. I felt restless as soon as I begun a task. And above all it felt like all my talent had left the building. I was not being very productive.

It pretty much dragged on like that. Perhaps less with the staring and the remarks, but certainly with my confidence and performance at an all time low. It was self reinforcing. The worse I performed the more certain I was that this was my new peak. As good as it gets. I didn’t bother to buy any new clothes. It felt pointless. At least I was always showing up with clean clothes. I kind of had to, because after a day they stunk.

After two weeks Jared, my boss, took me aside for a lunch meeting in his office. I knew things were going piss poor, and that I hadn’t been upfront with him about it. I made the decision to tell him everything I knew. The lost times, the “break ins”, the abduction to the junk yard, the sudden body changes, and my theory of multiple personality disorder, despite it not explaining everything.

He didn’t say a word while I spoke, and carefully consumed his Vietnamese BBQ baguette, making the appearance of almost not listening at all. Once my story was up to date with the last few days. He was just silently nodding and remained quiet for too many seconds.

- Can I meet him? - Who? - Kyle.

I was surprised. Somehow I hadn’t even thought of that as a possibility. I could never meet him, of course, but someone else could.

- When’s the next full moon? - The what? - The next time Kyle emerge? - Last weekend of the month. Week and a half from now. - We are way behind on cataloging. Boring and non-creative work, I know, but... you know... - Yeah, I know. - Well, you shouldn’t have any problems lifting the boxes at least.

It felt weird having my boss doing an all nighter binging Netflix content in my living room, while I was going to bed in the bedroom, but he was adamant he wanted to do this. So I fell asleep and strangely nothing appeared to be different when I woke up.

I quickly got dressed, blue jeans and fox racing shirt, and found Jared sleeping in my living room. It was 6:41 Monday morning according to my phone. Had he been here the whole weekend? I had a look around in the apartment. Some things had moved around, but it looked neat and clean enough.

- Hey... Hey Jared.. - Mmmmm - Hey, what happened?

Jared made a big yawn and sat up in the couch.

- Mmm. We certainly had too much to drink. - We? - You don’t feel it? I guess Kyle was right. - Right about what? - Well, it’s certainly more than just a mental thing, but we already knew that. I think I may have brokered a truce. - A truce? - Just trust me on this one. Don’t go to a doctor or anything. Keep his stuff in the apartment somewhere. - And me? What do I get.

Jared had a wry smile. Why was he so stingy with details?

- You get to be the message lead for our Chrysler commercial. - WHAT?! That’s huge. Wait... Why are you giving it to me? If someone asked a few days ago I would have said for sure I would be fired very soon. - I think you’ll do great. I’ll think you’ll manage to craft exactly the right message for heartland consumers. I have it from a good source that you’ll be just the right blend of creative writer and redneck for the job.

[theabominableblogger]

My Reaction to “Avengers Endgame”

Yes- I still haven’t seen this movie.  Yes I know exactly what happens in this movie.  I mainly avoided it for a while due to overhype but with some convincing from my brother, Imma sit my butt down and try to watch this.

Pressing... play!

Right off the bat, I feel like I should warn you guys and say that I have... my opinions... about stuff.  Plus I’m a dumbass about Marvel so just bear with me.

I like that Disney Plus has to warn us about product placement

Clint!

Are we gonna see little Nathaniel running around- THERE he is!

We are gonna see Clint’s entire family get freaking obliterated

Is all the rumbling from the sky or are those airplanes freaking crashing to Earth in the distance?

What if they pulled a reverse WandaVision and showed the people getting snapped out of existence in a future film or show?  That would be freaking terrifying.

They’re [Tony and Nebula] playing paper football...

I wanna see more of THEIR interactions aboard the Milano.  The shots of them just repairing the ship are great too.

“I’m fine.  Totally fine.”  Everyone ever.

I also like you see the visual difference between Tony and Nebula.  While he’s growing gaunt and haggard from loss of oxygen, you can still see that Nebula looks absolutely fine because she’s like 75% android

So between 1995 and now, what the heck has Carol been up to?

“Thanos wiped out... 50% of all living creatures.”  So like entire ecosystems are just demolished.

*anthropology major part of my brain scrambling for answers*

“We lost.  And you [Steve] weren’t there.”  HE WAS IN WAKANDA!

Wait so the arc reactor ISN’T in Tony’s chest anymore?

“Where the hell have you [Carol] been all this time?”  Good question!

*silently bops to opening theme*

For some reason, I just really want the ship radio to randomly turn on so you just see everyone sitting awkwardly as “Piano Man” plays over the speakers

*Thanos slowly cooks his food*  Faster, all together now!  COOKING CAN BE FUN!

“I [Thanos] used the stones to destroy the stones.”  ...what?

“I am...[Thanos] inevitable.”  *starts humming “Inevitable” from TGWDLM*

“I [Thor] went for the head.”  YES YOU DID

[FIVE YEARS LATER] All righty so we’re doing this

*gasps*  Is... Steve running the therapy sit downs like Sam did in “The Winter Soldier”?  That’s awesome.  I really like this tidbit.

I’m also really liking Alan Silvestri’s score for this so far

I’m really trying not to nitpick but I feel like it would take more than 5 years for greenery to just completely overtake a suburban neighborhood

Also wow pre COVID life looks great you guys

“There’s a part of me that doesn’t even wanna find him.”  Are they talking about... Clint?  Is Clint just going the full vigilante route?

DOES HE KILL PEOPLE?!?

I really like Steve and Natasha’s friendship in these movies but for some reason I don’t feel like we get enough of Natasha for me to get behind her on an emotional standpoint

Are they gonna use the quantum realm to jumpstart the multiverse for Phase 4?

Also speaking of multiverse, I honestly really don’t want Spiderman:  No Way Home or Wandavision to get too cluttered by that

I like Tony’s lake house.  And he got a whole vegetable garden going too.  Kudos!

The little kid who plays Morgan Stark is adorable

“Not if we strictly follow the rules of time travel.”  Which we obviously won’t.

“We’re gonna need a really big brain.”  So where the [expletive] is Banner?

“Stranger danger.”  *snorts*

“Dab!”  *rolls eyes*

So is the whole Professor Hulk thing permanent?  I know he’s gonna be in the She-Hulk show but I’m wondering how they’re gonna tackle that.  And they’re gonna have Tim Roth too!

*smiles when Tony takes Morgan to bed*

Steve Rogers here [when they do the first time travel tests] is a Look ™

Maybe don’t let the GIANT GREEN MAN keep pressing a bunch of tiny tiny important buttons on a dashboard

*laughs at Steve shaking his head in disbelief when they finally bring Scott back*

*Tony’s car races toward the Avengers base*  NYOOOMMMM

*Tony rolls down his window*  It’s Britney, bitch

“And maybe not die trying.”  And you definitely will.

This whole bit where Scott keeps losing his dorito only to get another one from Bruce feels like a Doritos commercial.

*jams out to "Supersonic Rocket Ship by The Kinks*

Did they just keep reducing the green pigment for Hulk or what?

*sighs when they reveal Fat!Thor*

MIEK’S ALIVE!

Please tell me Noobmaster69 is Kid Loki, whom we meet in the Loki series

“Don’t... say that name.”  “Yeah we actually don’t say that name here.”  I like this.  I like that Thor has so much resentment for killing Thanos at the wrong time and that he felt that could have done better cause he’s A GOD.  So the fact that THANOS was on equal level and BEAT HIM-

Hawkeye’s killing people

This sword fight’s great [between the Yakuza person and Clint]

WHY DIDN’T THEY BUILD ON THIS [Clint and Natasha’s connection] ???

*laughs when Rhodey suggests killing baby Thanos*

These shots of Clint going through the Quantum Realm looks like something straight out of Andy Park’s concept art and that’s awesome

“Well I [Scott] haven’t [encountered an Infinity Stone] but I don’t even know what the hell you’re all talking about.”  *snorts*

“The Aether, firstly, is not a stone.”  Thank you!

The little glance Nebula gives after Thor mentions the Dark Elves just make me think that somewhere down the road, she has either A) encountered them or B) has encountered other Asgardians besides Thor

“Guys if you pick the right year, there are three stones in New York.”  “Shut the front door.”  *laughs*

Also underrated trio:  Steve, Natasha, and Bruce.  Gimme more.

Wait a minute, in 2012, Doctor Strange wasn’t active yet.  So are they gonna go see- OOOOOOOHHHHHH

[NEW YORK 2012] Oh here we go

*cracks up when Bruce very half-assedly smashes stuff on the street*

“I’m looking for Doctor Strange.”  “You’re about five years too early.”  Wait a minute.

HOW DOES SHE [the Ancient One] KNOW?!?

*giggles at Thor and Rocket sneaking in the background with a bored Loki in focus*

“That’s my [Thor’s] mother.  She dies today.”  I love this scene already.

Also WHY IS THOR- or the Thor films in general- have like the most well written characters in the whole canon?

It’s those movies, Guardians 2, The Winter Soldier, Civil War, aaand.... I can’t think of any more of them. 

Oh yeah and WANDAVISION cause THAT HIT ME LIKE A TRUCK-

Rocket just said he thinks of the Guardians as his family I’m gonna die...

What about their [Natasha and Rhodey’s] friendship?!?  I want more of that!

“Ronan’s obsession... clouds his judgment.”  ...HUH

*Thanos uses his sword to lift up Nebula’s chin*  Aw heck no

“As far as I’m concerned, that’s America’s ass.”  *has to take a second before nodding in agreement*

Wait is that Jasper Stillwell?

“Flick me.”  That bit alone could be taken out of context

“We’re in route to Doctor List.”  Who’s Doctor List?  Is that a code name?

“Hail Hydra.”  THE BASTARDS WENT AND DID IT

Please tell me this hand off scene is gonna be the opening for the Loki show.  Please tell me this is gonna happen.

*Loki takes the Tesseract again*  AND HE’S GOOONNNEE!!

LET’S GET TO FREAKING JUNE ALREADY!

*ends up quoting “Yeah, I know, I know” along with Steve*

I’m really glad Tilda Swinton actually came back for this cameo

*keeps slapping my laptop screen when people keep saying Doctor Strange made a mistake when it was an explicit point in Infinity War where he encountered 14 million other AUs to find the best result*

Are you telling me that this whole plan could derail because Nebula accidentally hacked into her own WiFI network?  Are you seriously doing this?

*Thanos and Ebony Maw scan Nebula’s duplicate memory bank and track her down*  Are you freaking kidding me?

...I have 96 minutes left?!?

“The future hasn’t been kind to you [Thor], has it?”  Frigga is underrated

So for these shots with Jane, are they just reusing different shots from Thor 2 or just footage from deleted scenes?

Can we talk about how Frigga is absolutely the best parent Thor has?  Meanwhile her husband ODIN is like “oh yeah by the way you have a secret sister totes magotes i’ll die now byeeee”

*sings along with “Come and Get Your Love” by Redbone*

*laughs when we cut to Quill just very badly singing along to his iPod in the distance*

I want a bonus short with just Rhodey and Nebula doing their thing

*Nebula gets her memory taken over by 2014 Thanos*  Nooooooo...

Are the glasses that Tony wears here part of EDITH from “Far From Home” or are they like a prototype?

Also I haven’t seen “Far From Home” yet because Sony hates me

Doctor Zola?!?

*jams out to the music playing when we see Hank Pym’s lab*

“A little girl would be nice.  Less of a chance that she’ll end up exactly like me [Howard Stark].”  *gasps softly*

Oh my God, he’s [Steve] in Peggy’s office

Alan Silvestri is really killing it with this score

JARVIS!!

Wait and that’s the guy from “Agent Carter”!

Ohhh that shot’s [of Thanos’s ship coming out of the clouds] awesome...

*2014 Nebula hands Thanos the Pym particles*  Oh are you kidding me...

The CGI for Red Skull is also awesome

*gasps when Natasha reveals that she never knew her dad’s name when Red Skull told it to her*

*is super bummed out when Natasha sacrifices herself*

Kevin Feige really went and said “so Phases 3 and 4 are gonna make everybody cry” and the writers went “YES”

Wait doesn’t Cap go and return the stones at the end of the movie?  How’s he gonna handle meeting Red Skull on Vormir then?

“It’s like... I [Bruce] was made for this.”  Please someone get Mark Ruffalo his own Hulk movie before he combusts from giving out more spoilers

So Thanos used the Pym particles to time travel then.  Honestly that’s kinda genius

I just noticed that Scott shrank himself right as the explosion hit the windows

I really want someone to just drop one F-bomb somewhere in the MCU and I really hope it’s Clint because he would 100% say it

*starts singing “Hollaback Girl” when Thanos arrives*

Here’s my question;  how did Thanos acquire Nebula then?  With Gamora, it was with the genocide of her people.

“We [Gamora to Nebula] can stop him.”  LET’S GO!

[Thor uses his storm powers to summon both Stormbreaker and Mjolnir] *softly* Ohhhhh that’s badass...

Now I’m just imagining the cast just in the green screen room just hitting Josh Brolin with a bunch of foam weapons and making all the sound effects while poor Josh is just struggling under the weight of the Thanos reference head on his mocap suit

Who does the voice for FRIDAY?

AN:  Irish actress named Kerry Condon

*Steve deems himself worth to wield Mjolnir*  OKKAAYY OKAAYY

Love how Thanos is like “yes, I’m gonna stab you with an AXE”

“In all my years of conquest...”  Steve you suuuucckkk...

Are we getting the Chitauri again?

“On your left.”  *laughs incredulously*  O-ohhh my God...

*Everyone starts coming out of the portals*  Oh my God I’m getting chills

I would have lost my mind in the theater

I HAVE ACTUAL GOOSEBUMPS RUNNING ALL OVER ME.  This is how good this is

WAIT ARE THOSE THE RAVAGER SHIPS ABOVE THEM?!?

“Avengers... assemble.”  Oh my God this is amazing!

M’BAKU!

Also “Endgame” really just said “We are KILLING FOOLS TODAY”

How are they gonna tackle Peter and Gamora’s relationship in Guardians 3?

[Horn plays La Cucaracha] LET’S GO

God I’m gonna turn feral

*has to pause to scream in excitement when Wanda touches down in front of Thanos to fight him*

*puts hands on head*  OHH MY GOOOOODDDDD

They’re literally just playing Keep Away with a teenage boy.  Marvel, everybody.

*Captain Marvel destroys Thanos’s ship*  WELL IT TOOK YOU LONG ENOUGH

OK I got mixed feelings about that [the girl power team up scene]

*Thanos unsuccessfully headbutts Carol*  Oh shit!

*Doctor Strange holds up one finger*  Oh my God this is it

Someone definitely tore off when Thanos pushed Tony off

It was in that moment he [Thanos] knew- he effed up

*All of Thanos’s army dissipates*  Byeee...

Is it bad that I’m not crying at Tony’s death?

*gasps when Peter reunites with Ned at school*

Wait the whole time heist takes place within ONE DAY?

“I love you 3000.”  I really hope we see Morgan again somewhere in one of the movies or shows.  Actually a cool way to reincorporate her would be in the Ironheart series whenever they make it

Even Drax is wearing black!

It’s the “We should be getting therapy but we got a TV show instead” trio [Wanda, Bucky, and Sam]

Wait is that guy- was that guy- the little kid from Iron Man 3?

AN:  Yes

So right after this funeral, Wanda’s gonna storm SWORD right?

AN:  This was finished up on 2/26 so probably YES

*Thor crowns Valkyrie the new leader of New Asgard*  I now cannot wait for “Thor Love and Thunder”

Wait Peter’s looking for Gamora!

Still cannot believe that the time travel suits are completely CGI

I know they had a body double for Chris Evans here but I do think it would have been cool if they used the body double’s voice for Old Steve instead of Chris trying to sound old

He [Steve] put the shield in an art portfolio bag...

*says “No, no I don’t think I will” along with Steve*

*silently jams out to “It’s Been a Long, Long Time” playing during the credits*

Wait and that was the song Fury was playing in “Winter Soldier”

Oh they even got the actual signatures!  That’s awesome!

[diyunho]

The Joker x Reader - “Ghost Driver” Part 2

When The Joker says you’re his, it means you’re essential to him because he needs your services for his own gain; it literally has zero affectionate connotations. Turbo is The King’s Ghost Driver and although she’s a legend, her life is far from perfect.

Part 1

Four Days Afterwards, 7:47pm

“Good evening, madam. I am tonight’s entertainment,” Frost blurs out as soon as you open the door and instantly regrets his pun. “Sorry, that was stupid to say,” he apologizes.

The reason why you look puzzled is not his joke, but another motive: you never saw Jonny wearing anything else besides a suit or military gear; the fact that he’s standing in front of you wearing a pair of shorts and a t-shirt is quite intriguing.

“Hi,” you move aside so he can come in.

“Did I wake you up?”

“I fell asleep watching a movie,” Y/N smiles at his comfortable attire. “No big deal. Did Mister Joker send you?” the subtle question indicates you want to find out the reason for his visit.

“No... I was just thinking… maybe we could… and it’s entirely up to you, no pressure… maybe you would want to go and watch the fireworks with me. I have food and sleeping bags, plus an ice chest with drinks in my truck.”

You seem confused.

“Mmmm, you know what? Forget about it. That was completely idiotic to suggest,” Frost realizes that asking a freshly divorced woman to get out of the house after she was kidnapped and starved into her ex’s basement only four days ago it’s not the most brilliant idea he ever had.

“You had me at food and fireworks,” you wink at his insecurity. “The drinks sealed the deal. I’m confused on one detail: do I have to change or can I come in my PJ’s?”

“PJ’s are perfect.”

“Awesome!” you grab the keys from the coffee table. “Where exactly are we heading?”

“Fire Creek Hill, it’s one of the best spots to enjoy the view,” Jonny replies.

“Isn’t that closed to the general public?” Y/N inquires and his logic makes you laugh while exchanging your socks for flip-flops.

“I doubt we’re considered the general public. I had to pull some strings though,” he admits, overjoyed you actually agreed to accompany him.

Not that he shows it in any other way besides the invitation he barely mustered the courage to extend towards The Joker’s Ghost Driver.

*************

9:03pm  

“Oh, it’s starting!” you excitedly nibble on your Alfredo pasta.

The first fireworks bloom in the distance and Frost opens the cooler, pointing out the goodies he salvaged from the liquor store.

“Pick your poison: we have a bottle of premixed margarita, wine, whiskey, tequila and…,” he fumbles around,”…try to contain yourself: water!”

“You definitely bought some of my favorites , including the food. How did you guess?” the bubbly Y/N smiles.

“I pay attention,” Jonny mentions. “So what’s gonna be?”

“Margarita please,” you hold the plastic cup and can’t help snickering as he pours the liquid.

“What?” he suspiciously bites on his cheek.

“Nothing really… I was imagining you without the beard,” you decide not to keep it a secret.

“Damn!” Frost snorts. “I had it for years; didn’t consider shaving because our employer would freak out. Stop giggling, it’s not funny! He totally would!” Jonny elbows you.

“I bet you have a baby face underneath all that facial hair; if you shave I can promise a new nickname will arise: Baby- Face Frost.”

“Shut up!” he chuckles at your quirky proposal. “Yet I can’t deny it has a certain ring to it.”

“See what I mean? It might work!... Oh my God, that’s a huge one!” you gasp, distracted by the sparkling night sky. “What are they celebrating? 150 years since this piece of crap town was founded?”

“Apparently,” Jonny sighs and watches Y/N bundle up in the sleeping bag.

“Thank you for the feast,” your tone changes to a serious one. “I didn’t have this much fun in the back of a truck in a long time. Go ahead, laugh!” you pout at his reaction. “I’m aware how it sounds like; I didn’t mean it that way!!!”

“Still funny as hell!” Jonny is getting a kick out of the conversation.

“Psst! Hey, Casanova!” The Joker’s mop of green hair pop up from behind the car’s high railing.

“Mister Joker!” you get startled by his unexpected presence.

“Boss, what are you doing here?” Frost utters in disbelief.

“Why aren’t you answering your phone, huh?” J ignores his henchman’s inquiry.

“It’s in the glove compartment, sir. I’m enjoying the…”

“Pardon me for interrupting your date,” The King of Gotham huffs.

“We’re not on a date,” the attempted explanation gets cut short.

“Sell it to whoever wants to buy it,” The Joker growls at Jonny’s words. “I had to follow the signal from your cell and trace your location; what a marvelous bonus to find my Turbo also!”

The eerie grin makes you finally speak up:

“Do you need help with anything Mister J?”

“Do I?” he plays dumb. “Probably.”

Why does he have to ruin the night? Frost reflects, annoyed.

Nobody knows, but if he could spend ages in your company, he believes it would be an eternity well spent.

And The Joker had to ruin it.

Goddammit!

“Can you patch me up?” J takes of his jacket, revealing a blood stained shirt.

“What happened?” you and Jonny jump off the vehicle.

“I got myself in a little bit of a situation,” he grumbles. “It’s a clean wound; the bullet came out on the other side.”

“We should take you to the doctor, boos; you need stitches!”

“Thanks for your concern, Doctor Frost,” The Joker sassily remarks. “I’ll go in the morning.  I have more important matters to take care of tonight.”

You peel off his garment and assess the damage; he can’t hold it in:

“I bet you wanted to do this after I texted you my nudes, huh?”

You have to admit he caught you by surprise with his statement and the best solution in this situation is to cooperate:

“Been dreaming about it quite often.”

“Ha! I knew it!” The Clown cracks up. “Were you dreaming about it during your date?” he teases more.

“We’re not on a date,” you frown at the blood gushing from his wound.

“Interesting,” J expands on the subject. “At least you two have one thing in common: you’re both delusional.”

Frost rolls his eyes without J noticing and you signal him:

“Can I please get the whiskey? I need to disinfect this.”

“You have whiskey on your date?! Excuse me, non-date,” his majesty’s obnoxious temper emerges again.

You don’t engage for the moment, just open the bottle that Jonny gave you and splash a generous amount on the laceration.

“Jesus Christ!!!” The King shouts. “Be gentle woman, I’m fragile!!!”

“Sorry Mister J,” you mutter and Frost is certainly approving your tiny revenge scheme. “Can you please turn on the lights on your car? It’s getting dark and I can’t see what I’m doing,” you address The Joker’s sidekick. “Do you have a first aid kit in your vehicle Mister J?” you gesture towards his SUV parked a few feet away.

“I should,” a demented smirk flourished on his lips. “In the trunk!”

“Take a seat in the grass Mister J; I’ll go get it,” you urge the patient.

“Boss, are you sure you don’t want me to take you to the doctor?” Frost offers and instead of obliging your request, J pursues your steps because he doesn’t want to miss Turbo’s reaction.

“It’s fine, I’ll survive until morning time.”

You lift the trunk and gasp, stunned: your stellar ex-husband is tied up in there, duct tape over his mouth, clearly enjoying the repercussions of a confrontation due to bruises you can discern at a first glance.

“Oops, forgot about him,” The Clown yawns, bored.

Adam starts wiggling and mumbling whilst you can’t react.

“The fucker shot me!” your employer hisses. “Had the nerve to try killing me when he’s the one sleeping with MY girlfriend!”

“What’s the plan, sir?” Jonny intervenes, worried at your stunned attitude.

“The plan is simple: since Y/N is intimately acquainted with our guest, I’m willing to work out a deal. I don’t wanna to be accused of not listening to my associates.”

Adam keeps struggling and you finally reach and remove the duct tape.

“Honey, honey please!” he immediately rambles on, panicked. “You know I was joking about your weight, right? You don’t have to lose a few pounds! I admit locking you up in the basement was a huge mistake, ok? OK…? I’m sorry! I swear I’ll never cheat on you in the future. We can work things out, can’t we?” a glimmer of hope alleviates the somber perspective of his imminent demise once you begin searching his pockets.

He has the false impression you’ll untie him when in the matter of fact you are hunting down for his house keys so you can reclaim all the items you bribed him with when he signed the divorce papers.

Bingo! Treasure attained.

“So do you know him or not?” The Joker taps his fingers on the cold metal of his gun.

You take a deep breath, place the duct tape on Adam’s lips and sneer:

“I never saw this asshole in my life!”

“The lady has spoken!” J slams the trunk, unnerved. “Frost, you can go home; Y/N will take me to the warehouse on 8th street: she can borrow a car from there and split. I’ll send someone in the morning to bring it back.”

“Boss, we can leave your SUV here and I can drive you both…”

“DID I STUTTER?” The Clown growls, unhappy with Jonny’s shenanigans.

“No sir.”

“Mister J,” you distract his menacing temper. “Do you want me to bandage your injury now?”

“Nah, you can do it at the warehouse.”

More fireworks illuminate the skies and none in the small group is watching them anymore: the show is over for everyone involved.

You wave at Frost and hop in The Joker’s car as he positions himself in the passenger’s seat; you can tell something is off, besides the obvious of course.

If you’d have to speculate, you would say that his behavior is of a man who wasn’t hurt just physically, but on a different level he doesn’t understand yet: J went after your ex-husband alone when he doesn’t take unnecessary risks; enough proof to indicate he loved Ella and sought revenge for her betrayal without any of his team’s help.

You wonder what he did to the woman: did he kill her? Or worse?... You won’t dig to find out regardless.

The truth is you are The Joker’s Turbo and the statement works in reverse too: he is your Joker who undeniably needs cheering.

And you always deliver. That’s why you’re his.

That’s why you appreciate he made an effort to compromise on Adam’s predicament even if he didn’t mean it.

You steadily drive on the trail until you arrive to the main road, then suddenly accelerate with a specific purpose in mind. You take a sharp turn on Morrison Avenue, already at 100 miles per hour.

“What are you doing?” J bitterly enunciates.

“Why am I your Ghost Driver Mister Joker?” you reply with a question.

“Nobody can catch up with you.”

“Yup, the car to catch up with me hasn’t been assembled. Here they are, Gotham’s finest!” Y/N boasts at the lights glistening behind. “They always have a nightly patrol on Morrison Avenue ready to catch law un-abiding citizens,” you exclaim and J’s smirk widens at your proposition. “What do you say we make them work for their donuts, hm?”

“That’s my girl!” The King gives his blessing while Turbo speeds up the street in a frenzy.

************

11:58 pm

You barely returned to you apartment after the random factors which cut your rendezvous short when the cell chimes: a message from Frost.

“Did you make it home safe?”

“Yes,” you text.

“I’ve been busy. Wait, I’ll send you a picture.”

Downloading picture…

“Holy… shit!!!!!” you yell at your phone because the image depicts a portrait of a freshly shaved Jonny Frost.

“Do you like it?” the sentence appears on the screen concomitant with a knock at the main entrance.

“Who is it?” you drag your feet on the carpet.

“Me.”

As soon as you are standing in front of him, Frost hides his nervousness the best way he can; and he’s not a nervous individual per se.

“I thought you might want to take a closer look…,” he enters the hallway and you slowly lock the door behind him.

You don’t say anything, just touch his face and he pecks your wrist, confessing a secret he kept bottled up for years:

“Do you know I’ve been in love with you from the first second I saw you?”

Y/N doesn’t have to calculate in order to whisper:

“That’s a long time.”

“What’s the verdict?...“ Jonny insists. “You approve the change?”

“Yes,” you kiss him and he holds you tighter, thinking that if he could spend ages in your arms, it would be an eternity well spent.

 Also read: MASTERLIST

You can also follow me on Wattpad and Ao3 under the same blog name: DiYunho.

[spookyboogie3]

MY FAVORITE AH MOMENTS W/O R*an H*yw**d

Also keep in mind some of these moments i picked Bitch Face r*an may have been present for but this aint about his stupid ass. 

The straw bit on Off Topic

Fiona and Trevor’s “Look at us” “Look at us” “Look at us” in TTT

Drunk Jeremy inhaling helium, followed by Jack and Trevor on Off Topic

“Krusty KrAYAYAB!!!” TTT

Jeremy trying to slam his face through a table, followed by Michael doing the same thing

“my god…… the munchdew” “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!” Minecraft: Skyfactory

Actually all of Simple Farmer Geoff from Skyfactory

Whatever those sounds were that Jack was making in the beginning of GTA video

Alfredo screaming as he continues to fall down a steep tube in a GTA race

DESTROYING THEIR OFFICE DEAR LORD

“How did he drown though?” “UNDERWATER, MATT!”

Anytime Fiona starts to RAGE in TTT (bonus if others join in)

The time Gav was the phantom in TTT and he kept dying and being brought back and Jack spitting water and then trying to catch it

Alfredo’s Magoo moments in Minecraft

Geoff laughing in the background of a video hes not in

Lindsay fucking around with Chef Mike on Harecore Minigolf

Lindsay fucking around in general

Gavin and Fiona playing Animal Crossing and laughing at the stupidest shit

The Fish Tempura incident on Wheel of Fortune

Lindsay’s reasoning for why her and Michael should have 4 kids

Geoff’s fucking ad reads (my favorite is 23&Me)

The whole thing during Push the Button where everyone especially Michael gets mad at Fiona because she said the best candy to get while trick or treating was lollipops

Matt’s fucking desk in the corner of the room

Anytime Millie is in a video

Everyone falling off the pink ladder during TTT and dying repeatedly because of it

Alfredo “the two-time champ” Diaz dying very early in YDYD 3

Gavin and Michael fucking up almost every game they play on Play Pals

RAY OR NO and then RAY OR NAY on Off Topic

Reddit Roasts Geoff

Gavin asking if someone could kill 20 cows with their bare hands and the proceeding so say he could rip out a cow’s veins by reaching into its neck

Ify’s narration during Let’s Roll Ave Caesar

The internet losing its shit when Jeremy shaved his head years ago

“We need a knife” Gavin comes back with a hammer

Griffin chain sawing the Off Topic table up

“How do I put the boat in the water??” “Right click you animal”

As of 2020, 8 years of playing Minecraft, certain people still do not know how to play the basics of this fucking game.

Honestly it took over 200 episodes for some of them to figure out how the compass worked. You know after they decided that the sun was setting in the wrong direction. (this was in 2016??)

Flynt coal still is a joke they make

So is Day 2

Whatever happened in that GTA lets play where someone called a mugger or a hit on someone and the game glitched and 50 guys showed up and lined up on the street below from where they were playing

Anytime Gavin gets mugged, it’s an old running gag but it’s a classic

The time a mugger fucking started driving the fire truck away after mugging Gavin with Michael and Jeremy still in the truck thinking the other is driving and it takes them like 2 minutes to realize what happened while Gavin’s yelling “come back”

They got a water jug and immediately started water boarding each other

“It pinged and went dingle”

“Hey Trey-Boi” “Hey Gay-Boi” Immediately realizes what he has said

Jeremy’s website puns

(OLD) Ray jerking off in the corner during a let’s play

(OLD) the world in Minecraft never loading and everyone screaming about as Geoff says its fine for him

Jeremy’s “I AM MONSTER TRUCK”

Jack taking AH to Disney……in Minecraft

On Twitter, Gavin asked about recommendations for a computer mouse and Fiona starts sending him pictures of actual mice.

“Its not ghey, if its on the moon”

Literally anything Fiona does as Po

Jeremy saying the heterosexual flag is boring

UNO THE MOVIE!

Geoff fucking cackling the whole time.

“here’s looking at you kid”

the video was almost 3 hours long

“you know what my favorite color is? blue” “oh really? You know what my favorite hand is? Yours

They all want it to end but no one wants to lose and so they fuck each other and that prolongs the game. Also they put on more rules, so they just keep getting more cards if they don’t have a card to match the previous

Alfredo saying he won’t participate in ghost hunter because he knows what happens to people of color in horror movies

Fiona walking in on Off Topic with a protein shake and Gavin asks if shes drinking milk and she says without missing a beat “ah no that’s cum” and everyone laughed not expecting the answer

(OLD) “SURPRISE MOTHERFUCKER” *falls in hole*

(OLD) Ray and Gav running in a panel dressed as X-Ray and Vav and Ray running the whole way around the room before he got to the stage

Duck taping Jeremy to the wall

(OLD) All of Minecraft Episode 3 Plan G (This was the very first AH video I watch and why I know who they are)

Geoff and Gav creating Achievement City and giving everyone houses just to prank Jack into burning house down with lava.

Ray’s house is a dirt block with no furniture and single torch

Geoff’s giant ass house next to Ray’s tiny house

Jack tries to destroy everything with lava throughout the episode

“lets be honest, I realistically didn’t lose anything”

Michael stealing art from Gav’s house “NOO! I want nice things”

The sign to Michael’s says “Awaiting Approval, Awaiting Approval, Awaiting Approval” he runs into house and say “I’m home”

Ray also steals this sign at some point

Plan G – The failsafe.

“Oh whats this? Is this a button? Whats this? (pushes button) Yeah it was a button”

“Did you push the button?”

“Yeah”

“okay”

“wh-what does it do?”

“uh…”

Cue Achievement City beginning to explode as Michael starts screaming

Rays reaction “NO, MY SHITTY HOUSE JUST GOT EVEN SHITTIER!”

Not something funny but something VERY IMPORTANT. AH admitting that they all fucked up and how shitty their behavior was when dealing with harassment in the fanbase. People were racist, sexist, homophobic, misogynistic, and just downright horrible to a lot of the employees at RT and AH. This came up after Mica Burton left the company and talked about it publicly and how nothing was done about it. Fiona who also experiences these same things, along with Lindsay and other employees, but Fiona took the charge on the Off Topic talking about people can’t continue to get away with that behavior. She got to sound off her feelings to a group of white men who all respected her and LISTENED to what was saying and how she felt. She cried; Geoff cried. They all want to do more, so this doesn’t happen in the future and they’re not tolerating the racist and horrible comments. AH taking a mature moment to talk about how they failed to stop these comments and Geoff was right when he said the company has a long way to go.

 Outside of AH each member has more to them than just all of the comedy and laughs and dumb shit they do

Geoff helped found Roosterteeth and Achievement Hunter. He has a beautiful daughter in Millie who is awesome in her own right. He’s a recovering alcoholic. Currently doing F**k Face podcasts. Was in the fucking army. Takes accountability for every mistake he makes.  

Jack also helped start Achievement Hunter. He does so much work for charity. His twitter is full of things to help people go vote. He’s like the dad to AH, especially Fiona. He’s happily married to his wife Caiti.

Michael was an electrician and has a lot of handy man experience. He made a few videos online about him raging at games and that got the attention of RT. He’s currently married to Lindsay who he met because of RT. They have two kids together.

Gavin is an expert at high speed filmmaking and know how use and edit footage from a slow-motion camera. He has worked on actual films. One of the creators of the Slow Mo Guys. Worked his ass off to get to work for RT. Currently dating model and cosplayer Meg Turney

Lindsay flips between being the mom of the group and a complete chaos queen and we all love her for it. She started as an editor for the RT podcast and then AH stuff. She is an incredible voice actor, most known for Ruby Rose (RWBY), Space Kid (Camp Camp), Hilda (Xray & Vav) just to name a few. She also has a degree in finance

Jeremy started as a fan who made videos on the community page. He took over Ray’s place after Ray left to do Twitch full time. He is a self-published author and a skilled rapper and singer. He’s currently married to his wife, Kat.

Matt also started as a fan making videos on the community page. He actually interacted and made stuff for the guys in really early Minecraft episodes. Seriously this guy is like king of Minecraft. He has a degree in electrical engineering. He also has pretty decent singing voice.

Trevor is THE BOSS. Has a degree in aero-space engineering and is getting paid to babysit AH. Currently dating Barbara Dunkelman, RTs queen of puns.

Alfredo worked at IGN before RT and is a well-known streamer. He is the best when it comes to first person shooter games. He and Trevor look so similar.

Fiona. Po. Her majesty. Host of This Just Internet. A Twitch streamer. Baby of the bunch. Grew up in Europe. Her and Gav act like a pair of siblings. She has stated and showed time and time again she will fight for people to have safe spaces for anyone who needs them.

Ify, our new guy. He is wonderful and I want to stay forever. He’s a comedian, a writer, and an actor. Co hosts F-ing Around with Fiona. Has his own film podcast, Who Shot Ya? I look forward to more content with him in it, cause everything he’s been in so far has been great.

 Were all hurting but well make it through this

We have all these wonderful moments and a lot more that I didn’t list and this incredible team of personalities with their own accomplishments and achievements. Not to mention old team members who were also great additions and the entire crew behind the scenes editing and making videos look the best that they can.

 Here’s to Achievement Hunter and to this community. We need to be here for each other in times like these.

@theonyxranger gave me the idea for this based on their own post they made about the fans giving their favorite moments without bitch face and there were just too many. Oop. 

[shewrites02]

Southern Hospitality | Erik Killmonger x Black Reader | Chpt. 3

Summary: College AU where Erik seems to make the reader’s college transition a nightmare, while some how making it better as well

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Word Count: 3.4k

You woke up bright and early the next morning. The room was fairly dark despite the small sliver of sun light that shone in from the cracks in the curtains. You didn't want to get up. Not a single ounce of you wanted to leave the comfort of this bed, especially when a throbbing headache intensified with every flutter of your eyes. You could feel your stomach twist and turn in knots, the only time you weren't in pain was when you were sleeping. If this was what it meant to be hungover, then you were never going to drink again.

In the midst of your tossing and turning you heard the door slowly creak open. Your usual curious nature was subsided by the fact you had finally found maximum comfort, and had no intentions of getting up soon. Whoever was there shuffled around some then left seconds later,and it wasn't until the shut of the door where you eyes shot open. This was not your room, this was not your apartment, and these were not your clothes. So where the fuck where you?!

You sat up and allowed your eyes to scan the room in search for something familiar. You saw the dress you wore that night before balled up in the corner along with your heels and the memories came flooding in like dejavu. Your roommates ditching you at the club, and the kiss! Oh lord you had kissed this man who couldn't even say two words to you on campus. Now your heart pounded almost as hard as your head did.

Suddenly your headache, and turning stomach was the least of your problems. The embarrassment, shame, and guilt gladly took their place. You had to get out of this apartment, and through the grace of god you had to do it without Erik seeing you.

You decided to keep the clothes Erik let you borrow on, basketball shorts and barefoot would allow for a quicker escape than a body con dress and heels. Scooping your clothes off the floor you headed for the door. You listened closely for anyone who you'd possibly encounter on your way out and heard nothing. Feeling it was safe to leave you made a fast walk dash to the front door.

"You know all your shit is in my car." The all too familiar husky voice called out right when your hand touched the door knob. You clenched your eyes. so close.

"You was just gon take my shit." Erik laughed as he pointed to the clothes you had on.

You forced out a small chuckle, trying your best not to come off awkward, but essentially failing. You could feel the shame and embarrassment filling your cheeks as they'd burn. If not for your dark complexion you would be as red as a tomato. you could barely look Erik in his eyes. Anytime you glanced at him you just saw yourself crashing your lips into his.

"I didn't think you would be awake... I ain't want to wake up." You mumbled bashfully.

Everything in you wanted to just sprint out of that room. In the middle of the conversation just walk out, and avoid this whole ordeal, but MIT wasn't as big as everyone thought. You would eventually have to face Erik again, and making a literal run for it would only make it ten times harder the next time you saw him.

"Eat." He said pushing a plate of bacon and eggs to the edge of the table. You didn't move. You hoped that Erik would fall back into that asshole he was before, the man of few words, and get you out the door as quickly as possible. But the stare he was giving you said there was no way you were leaving this apartment without eating something.

"I know your ass is hungover and feels like shit. Just eat the fucking food."

Unable to argue that fact, you took a seat across from him and began eating.

"You remember last night?" Erik asked shoving a piece of bacon into his mouth. You shook your head no, which wasn't entirely a lie. Your memories were spotty. You could remember the kiss, but could not recall anything between you're roommates ditching you at the club and being in Erik's bed. But Erik did not hesitate to fill you in.

"You got some foul ass friends for leaving you drunk stumbling in the club... your drunk ass couldn't even remember the name of your fucking building. You started crying in the passenger seat of my car, so I had to bring you back here. I let you change into my clothes, I slept on the couch."

"That it?"

He nodded his head yes, while sipping some of his orange juice.

You wondered why he had left out the kiss. A part of you thought maybe it didn't even happen. That you had fabricated it in your drunk coma, but you swore you could still feel his lips against yours. But you decided if Erik said nothing about it... then neither would you.

It eased your mind some not having him mention it. It was a relief not having to face the consequences of your actions. It made having breakfast with Erik much easier, maybe even enjoyable.

"I'll give you a ride to your apartment, since your shit is in my car anyway."

Once you made it into the car, Erik reached underneath the driver's seat and handed you your purse from last night. You were surprised to see your phone still had a charge. Once you unlocked it, you were flooded with texts from your suitemates asking if you were alive. All you could do was laugh. Now these bitches cared? Fuck that. You chose not to respond. They should wallow in their worry, and guilt because if it weren't for Erik something serious could've happened to you last night.

As you searched the rest of your phone trying to ensure you made no other mistakes that night you fumbled across a message you had typed to your mom. Talking about how much you hated MIT, how sorry you were to disappoint her, and that you wanted to come home. It cut off mid sentence and was never sent, but there it was all your feelings poured out in one text.

"You said I cried in your car?"

"Yeah."

"I say anything crazy or...."

"Nah... just sad you couldn't remember your building, and your roommates left you."

Yet another sigh of relief that you didn't pour out your whole heart and soul to this nigga. From the sounds of it, although last night was a disaster, there were no catastrophic events that transpired that you couldn't bounce back from. You were a little proud of drunk you for not ruining your life.

having made it back to your dorm, you thanked Erik for being kind enough to take you home and promised to give his clothes back to him. He nodded then drove off without another word. When you walked in, the apartment was dead silent. You assumed your roommates had gone to the cafe or some other place where they could recover from the night of drinking.

You were happy to not have to see them, as far as you were concerned they had showed you were you stood with them. Y'alls relationship did not go past roommates and you were completely okay with that. Fuck them, you only needed yourself.

You went into your bedroom shutting the door behind you and went right back to sleep. Although eating breakfast at Erik's had helped, you still felt like you were hit by a truck the night before. Happy you had done all of your studying days before, you dedicate this day to sleeping.

-

Weeks had passed since the night you affectionately called "The Night of Shame". You had completely distanced yourself from your roommates and only spoke to them when absolutely necessary. It was relieving, but it also meant that you now had to do things like eat in the cafe and laundry completely alone. It was nerve racking, but the more you do it the easier it got.

You had talked to Erik only once since then, outside of the rec center after he had got done working out so you could return his clothes clean as promised. The conversation lasted only seconds and all he said was thanks for washing them. You had seen him many times throughout the weeks. Going from class to class, in the library, or eating in the cafe. But just as before y'all didn't speak.

You hated how things were so hot and cold with him. One minute he's ignoring you on campus the next he is saving you from some dire situation. You couldn't tell what kind of relationship y'all had if any. The next day after the Night of Shame, when your roommates inquired whether or not you and Erik were friends you had no idea what to say. "No he just appears and helps me out then ignores me for 3 weeks" didn't quite sound appropriate . So you beat around the bush until you found an opportunity to change the subject.

Despite your life being in complete shambles, you decided to focus on your grades. Consuming yourself in your school work always proved to be a good distraction when your life was falling down around you. In fact your professor had invited you to a lock in study session at the library to prepare for your first exam in some computer software class you had no idea why you were required to take. He said there would be tutors, as well as students from other classes to help facilitate study sessions. You thought it was a perfect opportunity to meet new people as well as earn some extra bonus points on your test.

You could hear your heart pounding, it was beating so hard in your chest as you walked into the packed library. You hadn't realized how many people really took this class prior to seeing them all in one room. Your social anxiety was quick to form knots in your throat as you started to sweat. You were ready to get the hell out of this room, asap!

"Hey, I'm so glad to see you here!" Your professor sweetly cooed as he rested his hand on your shoulder. Oh, no... you were trapped now. "Just hop in a group, every group has a different set of problems and we'll switch stations when the buzzer goes off."

You nervously smirked then went to search for a group. You could feel all eyes on you as you walked through the crowd. One of the only melanin bodies in a sea full of white. You knew whichever group you picked had a 50 percent chance of being prejudice white people who wouldn't respect your opinions, so when you saw a group in the corner with nothing but chocolate people you jumped at the opportunity.

"Mind if I join y'alls group?" you asked the beautiful dark skin girl that had box braids down to her waist. The only person in the group who's back wasn't toward you.

"Of course love, grab a seat." You decided to take the open seat next to her. Once you sat down and had settled your belongs you took some time to scan the rest of the group. The girl you sat next to was Amari then there was Roddy , A light skin boy with a medium build, dark hair and full beard similar to Jidenna's. Another dark skinned girl, Aries, who's natural hair was pulled up into two space buns, and lastly... Erik?

Your heart sank. What kind of intricate type of hell where you living in were school work couldn't even be a type of escape for you. It was like everywhere you went Erik Stevenson was there to haunt you.

He didn't bother to say hi, he didn't even bother to crack a smile. In fact when the group went around introducing themselves to you Erik stayed completely silent and acted as if you didn't exist. Which of course was completely routine for the two of you.

As the session continued, you found yourself really meshing with this little group. Y'all were able to focus on studying all while cracking jokes about the white nonsense you had to put up with while attending school here, and Aries rather... eclectic musical taste. Throughout this whole time Erik would mumble a few words here and there but if it didn't include correcting someone on a problem for the most part he didn't speak.

"I got B... but I'm pretty sure that's w-"

"Wrong." Erik cut you off before you could finish.

"Well you tell us how the fuck to do it Erik. Since you got ya degree and you know every fucking thing?" Amari shot at him folding her arms across her chest.

Erik cut his eyes at her. He was aware that everyone knew that he knew the right answer, but something about sitting up here and having to justify himself seemed to get under his skin. He snatched my paper away from me and quickly glanced over my work, marking everything that was incorrect. The whole process took an entirety of about 20 seconds.

"There." He said sliding the paper back.

"He's an asshole, but he's smart as hell." Roddy mumbled glancing over and copying the work down to his paper.

You took comfort in knowing that Erik was an asshole to everyone, and not just you. That his anti-social standoffish thing was a personality trait and not just a side effect of dealing with you.

Despite the lock in being for an entire night, no one really stayed up past 3 a.m to study. Last you glanced at the time it was 3:30 and your group was the only ones still awake. Granted y'all had given up on studying a half hour ago, y'all were still awake to fake it.

"Think there's pizza left in the basement?" Aries inquired after her stomach growled for the 3rd time that night.

"I know there better be something down there!" Roddy responded, a little extra base in his voice.

"Ain't no way in hell we staying in here with nothing to eat." April protested now standing from her chair, Aries and Roddy following suit. The three of them headed down to the basement to scavenge for remaining boxes of pizza, and steal other group's pizza if necessary.

"I'm going to fail this test, if I can't get this shit down in the next couple of days."

You spoke, trying to break the tension that lingered between the two of you. But to no surprise Erik didn't respond to you, didn't even look up from his phone.

moments passed and the rest of the group returned with a full box of pizza. They explained that they had stolen it from a group filled with members of Alpha Chi Alpha, some fraternity on campus. Apparently Roddy had some beef with them after getting in trouble last semester for cussing out a member after being told to "take his ghetto ass back to the hood". He said the majority, if not all of the frat was scared of him and he took pleasure in punking their asses.

You had felt so at home with these group of people that you wondered how it took you so long to meet them. Where had they been hiding, and how did they all know each other? You just had to ask.

"Girl, we all meet in BSU. Black Student Union. You gotta come to our meeting it's the only way we survive this place." Aries told you. She pulled up a flyer from her phone that showed the meeting times and location.

"There's only a handful of us that show up to the meetings, but we're all super close. You definitely should swing through." Roddy added.

"Yeah girl, you apart of gang now. You gotta come!" April plead.

You reassured them that the next meeting you would definitely be there. You needed any escape from this white world that you could get, and if the rest of the Black Student Union was like these people right here you would be in good hands.

5 a.m had finally rolled around and the lock in was finally over. Your new found friend group said their goodbyes and the three of them went on their way since they all lived in the same building. That left you and Erik outside of the library in the darkness of the night.

You thought about trying one last time to speak to him and give a cordial goodbye, but you knew what the outcome would be. With that you slung your backpack over your shoulder and started your walk across campus to your building.

Moments passed before you heard steps approaching behind you, and before you knew it Erik was walking along side you.

"Let me walk you home." Erik demanded more so than asked.

You rolled your eyes, confused and annoyed by yet another random act of kindness. The mixed signals were killing you, and you were losing sleep at night trying to wrap your brain around y'alls relationship.

Majority of the walk was silent. It wasn't until the two of you reached the front of your building when Erik finally spoke again.

"Looks like yo ass remembered what building you stay in this time." He laughed, like genuinely laughed showing teeth and all. You were surprised. This was the first time you'd ever seen him really smile. Part of you was delighted the other part was pissed.

"What the fuck are we doing Erik?! Like for real whats good? Cause you'll do something extraordinarily nice for me then act like you don't know me for the next 3 weeks until your next nice gesture. What is that!"

Erik's smile quickly faded, but his eyes never left yours. He listened intently as you ranted on about your feelings and once you were done he lightly chuckled.

"So you want me to be a dick to you? That 's fucking stupid." He smirked leaning up against one of the pillars to the corridor my room was in.

"I want you to either be a dick all the time or be a friend all the time! I don't want you to pick and choose when you wanna fuck with me!"

"So I shoulda left yo ass stumbling in the club and chose not to fuck with you?"

"Don't be fucking stupid Eri-"

"Whoa lil mama, you need to take that base out your voice." Erik stood now so that his frame towered over you. His smirk had dropped and his jaws clenched now. you were sure if it weren't for the long sleeves he always wore, you'd be able to see the veins swelling on his arms. Calling him stupid had really gotten under his skin, you could tell.

Chills went down your spine. You vividly remembered having this feeling before smashing your lips into Erik's. It was now you knew in your heart that kiss was more than just a drunken dream. But if Erik thought he could use his sexy intimidating frame to scare you, he was wrong.

"You made this big ass deal about black people watching out for each other when we first meet, and now that I'm doing it you tripping? Ain't this what yo ass wanted?!"

"Watching out for me? Is that what you think you doing? Cause that's not what the fuck it looks like when your ignoring me on campus or acting like you don't see me eating alone in the cafe. Or how about when you didn't feel it necessary to tell me I kissed you that night I got drunk uh? Were you watching out for me th-"

"YES!" He shouted a sarcastic laugh filled with nothing but anger followed after. "Shorty, you pressing me when I ain't trying to do shit but protect you. You don't need a nigga like me in your life, I promise you. I ain't say shit bout you kissing me because I was hoping you wouldn't remember that shit... trust me mama I ain't good enough to be your boyfriend."

Erik planted a soft kiss on your cheek before leaving you standing there alone.

Tag List:  @chaneajoyyy @missshae @thehomierobbstark @killmongersbaby @elaindeereads @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @tip222u @irisindigonightmare 

*If you want to be added to the tag list for this story just let me know 

[greenwaterskeeter]

i finally have a coherent personal narrative, and here it is. It’s quite long, but i think of some interest, and might be encouraging!

-Mentions of suicidal ideation, emotional and financial abuse, emotional incest, fatphobia, misogyny, capitalism. Whatever the qpr equivalent of romance is. Ends happily-

I felt for a long time that i should have died when i was 20. Not in the sense that i deserved to, but in the sense that by then i’d accomplished as much as i ever would and was therefore obsolete– taking up resources unnecessarily.

When i was 13, i felt forced to choose between my parents. My bus driver/karate teacher, a kind person who i very much admired, advised me to flip a coin and then, if i didn’t like the result, pick the other. I chose my mother and (privately) pledged absolute loyalty to her (I was obsessed with LOTR at the time and felt that it was the purpose of my life to be a Sam for somebody).

While she was single and struggling to keep the farm and raise my brother (a toddler then), that devotion was used and rewarded. There were times i thought with satisfaction that i might as well be her husband, as well as a parent to my beloved brother. I was proud. I felt righteous. The joy of supporting and protecting her was real. The intermittent anguish of being a minor who could legally only do so much to help was also real. (I believed in laws then).

When I was 17, she remarried (a perfectly nice, wealthy man, as devoted as me and much more powerful) and i went to college. I slowly imploded across all four years, though I didn’t realize that until nearly the end. I think now it was because nothing i could offer her was needed anymore. Every time she treated me like a child instead of the valued partner i had been, i was crushed. Emasculated. i began to feel positively Tortured without understanding why. It sounds like a villain’s origin story, doesn’t it?

When it started affecting my performance, i could only think the trouble was that i was pining for a married professor, as you do. I had fallen in love with him, and made myself his best student (and then his TA, and then began to feel gross about it, quit, and started avoiding where i knew he’d be, all without telling anyone). Once my decline became known and answers were demanded, this was all i could offer in explanation.

I didn’t blame anyone consciously then, but i think now i felt betrayed by how my friends and family reacted. They all thought i must have seduced him (or vice versa if they were generous) to be so torn up. It was too foolish to become suicidal over a crush. They didn’t believe me, or accused me of grandiosity, when i said the professor didn’t even know how i felt. I have always struggled to keep in touch with people, and once my oldest friends gave me the Adultery is Bad talk, it was hard to keep trying.

Everyone did their best and we were all very young. I didn’t understand any more than they did. But still, i can acknowledge now what it would have meant to have just one person who believed in me regardless of understanding. On a deeply hidden level, i felt that my mother, at least, owed me that, after years of faithful service.

But horribly, once it became clear my suicidality was almost entirely passive, she turned on me. She was very frightened. I guess she had also been thanking her lucky stars all that time that i wasn’t turning out like my dad, but here i revealed myself at last to be a freeloader, just like him. I was supposed to go to medical school. I had been the pride of the extended family, the eldest and purest of my generation, a marvel of the local intelligentsia, and i wound up dragging myself back home inept, directionless, cringing, the same as so many unfortunate young cousins and neighbors who’d used to have me pointed out to them as an example. Who would my brothers look up to now?

I endured living at home for a few years. My mom couldn’t keep up the punishment constantly, so although there was no telling when she would start in on me again, or whether she might finally go through with evicting me, there were beautiful things too.

I worked for her husband’s business for no pay, which i understand now was abusive, but i have always enjoyed working with my hands, and when they left me to it, it felt like the old days, like i had a use, even if it was now peripheral. My brothers weren’t sure what to do with me, but we still had fun when we could. The animals comforted me, and it’s special to be able to give affection and gentleness to a creature who depends on you. The woods and mists and early mornings and silent moonlights were still beautiful, and gradually i could appreciate them again. When i was with people, i felt my disgrace abjectly. But on the farm there were many chores to be done alone.

The more i recovered, the more trapped i felt. I even, very alarmingly, spent about two hours one afternoon silently consumed with resentful feelings towards my mother (this hadn’t happened since i was 10). I began to be afraid of losing control and doing something desperate (I totaled two different trucks during this time, on roads i knew well, for no apparent reason). I had given up my spot at a medical school i would not get into twice, and the obvious escape was to reapply elsewhere. I attempted this, and sabotaged it, multiple times.

I got a job at a nursing home, which was hard on my back but full of wonderful people, and was forced to quit when it made me late to my shift at my stepfather’s business too many times. By this i understood that a local job was not getting me out of there. I asked for money to get an EMT certification and was refused. I applied to many online jobs, none of which i had enough time to make money from. I called up one or two branches of the military, and was rejected for being too fat, thank God. I applied to medical school again, and managed to not sabotage it enough that i was accepted into a master’s program instead. It was across the state, five hundred miles away.

And still it might have come to nothing, as i had no conscious plans, actually, of staying away once i was done with this master’s program. The expected thing would be to go on to medical school, but i was only anticipating the first day of being free and couldn’t imagine anything more than a week in the future. I looked at the amount of debt i was taking on for this, knowing in my heart that i would not get a job that could pay it back, and was only relieved that they hadn’t caught onto me and i could still get loans.

There are a lot of things in my story that aren’t what they say is healthy or proper. I shouldn’t have romanticized my own parentification, i should not have had feelings for a 50 year old man, i should have kept trying with my friends, who have good hearts and only made one mistake before i ghosted them, i should have kept telling the truth, i shouldn’t have taken moral injury from things that weren’t my fault, i should have been properly angry with my mother at some point, i should not be grateful that my tendency is to harm myself rather than others.

One person alone should not have been able to save me.

In the second month of my year away, i was in a study group with my roommates and some of their acquaintances, and i laughingly shared some anecdote or other that i thought was harmless. I don’t remember whether anyone else laughed, but one person said: “That sounds kind of fucked up.”

“Oh,” I said, embarrassed. “Eh, well.”

Nothing more was made of it, and we went on studying. Later, this same person saw me sitting in the cafeteria alone and came to sit with me. We met to study again, just us two, and they showed me a video about white tears and watched me closely for my reaction. We compared ideals and found them the same. We came up with a project to collectivize flashcard-making for our class and had to meet frequently to carry it out. “We’re colleagues,” my new friend said, firmly, when people asked if we were together. We discovered ethical problems with the program and protested them, formally and informally. We were accused of being too insular. We talked about our families, and they said things like: “That’s not okay, you realize that, right” and “I think if more people loved the way you do, I’d have a reason to smile in the morning.” It became normal for my eyes to be sore from crying.

Neither of us got into medical school that year. We got an apartment together after graduation, and worked together too until i was fired (I was new to challenging authority and not very subtle in my distaste for our bosses). My friend’s parents wanted them to quit too, to come home while they reapplied, but they said: “Not without Autumn.” So after some negotiating, we went to live with their folks for a while…

We’ve been together for 5 years now. At first I did the same as I’d always done, but my partner made it clear they don’t want self-abnegation from me. I started trying to have boundaries, paradoxically, to make them happy. I’ve dipped into therapy as money allows. I’ve been reading and thinking and writing. Above all, I’ve been loved.

And all this time, I’ve still been deeply ashamed. I’ve spent the last ten years in some degree of emotional pain 24/7. But somehow, two weeks ago, another thing happened that shouldn’t, and i suddenly knew that i was a human being like any other.

I still feel that I should have died when I was 20, but now it’s in the sense that people say, “You shouldn’t have survived that! What a miracle!” Still existing feels like a bonus. I might live a long time from now and i might not. Either way, I’m incredibly lucky to turn my face to the world and know that i am a creature in it, like other creatures. I am well. It’s good that I’m alive.

[alleiradayne]

Unconventional A J2 x Reader RPF Series

After a rousing evening of Friday Night Karaoke at the Supernatural convention, you’re tired and about to go to bed. But then a distinctly familiar laugh echoes through the hallway outside your hotel room door, and sleep is the last thing on your mind.

Part I - Situational

Summary: Back in your room after the always-entertaining Friday Night Karaoke, you’re about to pass out. But then that familiar cackling laughter hits your ears, and when you open your hotel room door, you find yourself standing face to face with Jared Padalecki. Warnings/Tags: Fluff, flirting, suggestions of sex, imbibing of alcohol Characters/Pairings: Jared Padalecki, Jensen Ackles, Female Reader Word Count: 3,569 A/N: For the love of everything good in this world, assume everyone involved is single or polyamorous. No. Wife. Hate. Allowed. This series as a whole will fulfill my Polyamory square for @spnkinkbingo​ but not until closer to the end. Beta’d by @atc74​ because she’s awesome and managed to read this hella long buncha nonsense.

His laugh permeated your subconscious, and a tendril of recognition wandered its way through your weary daze. The first day of the con had wrapped no more than an hour ago. Karaoke, entertaining as ever, had sapped the last of your energy, but for whatever reason, you had struggled to fall asleep. Not even hotel infomercials or the endless stream of Tumblr had lulled you to sleep.

Oh, but that laugh. Though unmistakable despite its distance, you had to have imagined it, a lucid dream. Given the upcoming convention events, your subconscious mind must have conjured up ridiculous fantasies to placate your nerves. Come Sunday, you would meet him, really meet him and talk with him and, if you were lucky, get to know him a little. No wonder you subconsciously dreamt of him as you stared, unseeing, at the television.

But then he laughed again. Right outside your door.

Not a dream, then. But a simpler explanation existed; it had to be someone that sounded like him. Not like his laugh was exclusive to him. It might be to you, but plenty of people cackled at silly things like he did.

Except when he laughed, it never felt forced. His smile reached his eyes every time he laughed like that, and his body pitched as his shoulders shook. You had seen that laugh a thousand times, at so many cons and in so many gag reels. There was no mistaking it.

And then you heard it for the third time, though it echoed from further down the hall. Your single room was the last before the massive corner suite, and there it must be that he stayed.

You bolted upright, spine straight as you focused, and listened closer. Muffled sounds slipped through the wall of your room as bags thumped to the floor, other items dropped, and people bid one another good night.

Curiosity piqued, you hopped from the hotel bed, turned off the television, and shuffled to your door. More voices passed, but they sounded as if they headed in a different direction. When the soft thud and snict of the nearest door interrupted your concentration, you gripped the handle of yours, and, with a slow turn of the knob, pulled it aside.

There in the hallway stood Jared Padalecki, phone in hand and frozen mid-stride as he stared at you. No Jensen. No Clif. No other bodyguards. Just Jared. Alone.

Except for you. No anticipation had prepared you for him, as much as your imagination had tried the last few minutes. Your teeth clicked shut when Jared laughed through his nose, nothing like the cackling you had heard a moment earlier. No, that laugh sounded like pure amusement, as if he were used to people reacting to his presence like you had, mouth agape and eyes popping out of their heads.

The need to speak, to do something beyond standing there staring at him, surpassed your better judgment and so, you said, “Hey, Jared.”

Smooth. But, as terrible as it sounded, it worked. Jared smiled his charming smile as he slid his phone into his pocket and took a step closer. “Hey, there. Are you my neighbor for the weekend?”

With your wits gathered, your typical loquacious speech returned. “It appears that I am the lucky son of a bitch who gets to see you come and go in the halls of our hotel during this convention.”

Jared held out his hand with an approving frown. “Verbose. Is that normal, or are you nervous?”

“Y/N,” you started as you took his offered hand, yours dwarfed by his. “And it’s normal. I’m not known for mincing words. Some would call me turgid, even.”

“Hm,” he started as he looked you over and examined your hand in his. “I’m not seeing any fluid retention, Y/N. And I like verbose.”

The hallway had grown far too hot in a hurry. Your guffaw of a laugh drew another from Jared, and your voices sang a song you wished to hear every day for the rest of your life. But you had stopped him on his way out. His phone buzzed an incessant chirp in his pocket that distracted both of you.

“Sorry, Y/N,” he mumbled. “They’re waiting for me. Surprised Cliffy hasn’t come back up.”

“Where are you headed?” You had blurted out the question before any rational thought argued he might not want to share that information.

“Bar down the street. We’ve been there a few times before,” he said as he jabbed a thumb to the north. “Nice place, good food, good beer, fun atmosphere. We go largely unnoticed too, so that’s a bonus every once in a while.”

With a nod you agreed. “Yeah, it’s a good joint. Great fish and chips.”

“Oh,” Jared mused with a thoughtful smile. “I haven’t tried that yet. I’ll have to give it a shot another night though, just going out for a drink.”

Tips on bar food. Great. You had Jared Padalecki all to yourself and you chose to talk about bar food. How benign. How maddeningly… normal.

“Hey, Y/N?”

His shoulders hunched as he leaned closer to you, head low and knees bent as if to appear smaller. You shook your head free of your wandering thoughts and refocused. “Yeah?”

“You okay?” he asked. “Day went alright? You seem…”

The sting of embarrassment pricked at your cheeks as you smiled and averted his intense hazel stare. “Flustered? Bemused? Bewildered? Try all three,” you said as you ran a nervous hand through your hair. “I had a great first day at the con, but… I never expected something like this. Sorry, I don't want to keep you, I'll let you get back to your—"

“Come with us.”

The world lurched to a halt at Jared's words. “No,” you started with a shake of your head. “I couldn't. I mean, I could, I want to, but I wouldn't want to impose. And I don't want people to get the wrong idea…”

“You wouldn't be imposing, I invited you,” Jared explained with a shrug. “And we can't control what other people say. If it really makes you uncomfortable, you don't have to come out, but we'd be happy to have you.”

Drinks with Jared. “Jensen will be there, too?”

“Absolutely,” Jared replied. “Cliffy, as always. But that should be it tonight. Maybe more tomorrow after the concert. Rob and the band like to go out after, so sometimes we kick it with them.”

“Sounds like a good time,” you started, still hesitant. Why, you were not sure. How often did an opportunity to hang out with Jared Padalecki present itself? Once in a lifetime? No point in second-guessing yourself or his insistence.

“Y/N?”

A shake of your head cleared the fog of conflict from your mind. “Let me get my boots. You’ll have to excuse my attire, I planned on going to a Supernatural convention all weekend, not clubbing.”

Jared laughed at that, not far from his typical cackle. “We’re going to a pub, you’ll fit right in. And for what it’s worth, that plaid is great, I love the color. Looks good on you.”

From previous interactions with Jared—photo ops and autographs—you had experienced his giving nature before. It wasn’t the first time he’d complimented you. But that had not prepared you for another, and so direct without a crowed of people around. Your entire face burned as your knees threatened to buckle.

“Th-thanks,” you stuttered. “I’ll just… uh…”

Jared held the door aside as you pointed towards your boots, out of reach. “I’ll hold it. Take your time,” he said as he withdrew his phone and began to text.

With your boots on and a sweater donned, you gathered your belongings and returned to the door. “Ready?”

Jared flashed his brilliant smile as he motioned you through the door. “After you. Jensen’s already in the truck, Cliffy is heading in to lead us out back without any interruptions. Which rarely happens, just so you know.”

Through the door, Jared followed you as you asked, “Really?” Your door shut behind you with a soft click and you double-checked it to be sure it was closed.

“I mean, sure, a handful of people might recognize us in a night,” he said with a shrug. “Couple pictures here and there. Nothing crazy. And if we get overwhelmed at all, Clif’s there.”

At the elevators, you prodded the down button as you said, “I’m surprised you’re not swarmed by fans all the time.”

Jared’s amused chuckle followed you into the elevator as the door opened. “That’s a rare situation, although it has happened.”

The fifteen-floor descent began, and though you had a million questions you wanted to ask, a million things you wanted to say, none came to mind. How could they? You were in an elevator with Jared Padalecki. The worst parts of your imagination suggested possibilities better left to yourself, but Jared must have noticed the consternation on your face.

“You okay, Y/N?” he started, a gentle hand smoothing your shoulder. “You got quiet there all of a sudden.”

“I uh…” you stuttered. “I’m fine. Just overwhelmed. Elevator isn’t helping.”

Another laugh from Jared eased your nerves. “Worried about getting stuck?”

That furious sting returned to your cheeks, spreading across the bridge of your nose. “I wouldn’t say I’m worried about it,” you jested, but from where that boldness originated, you had no clue.

Jared's amused surprise worked a smile out of you as he said, “Okay, keep your secrets then. I won't pry.” He paused for a beat, then added, “For now.”

Innuendos then? The door to the elevator opened as it reached the ground floor, your mind spinning with every possible meaning to Jared’s words. But that string of images disappeared in a flash when you met Clif waiting outside the elevator.

As if unsurprised to see you, Clif smiled and offered his hand with a short introduction. You grasped it and shook, giving your name and a quick apology for Jared’s tardiness.

“We’re used to it,” Clif started as he turned for a stairway door. “He’s always dragging ass, although he may actually have an excuse this time.”

Through the door, Jared retaliated. “Don’t give me shit for inviting someone out, man.”

Clif laughed at that but said nothing else. Through a short series of hallways, you followed him to a rear exit of the hotel where a large black SUV waited. Clif rounded the front of the vehicle as Jared opened a door for you and ushered you in.

Once seated and the door closed, your eyes adjusted to the darkness only to find Jensen leaning over the console and staring at you.

“You’re not Jared,” he suggested with a smirk.

“An astute judgment,” you shot back.

“A smartass, though,” he retorted as he held out his hand. “My kinda gal.”

A brow quirked towards your hairline as you shook his hand, surprised to find it rough and calloused. “Y/N. A pleasure.”

The passenger door opposite you opened and Jared stepped in with a hop. He groaned with a contorted frown as he spotted your hand in Jensen’s. “Is he giving you shit already?”

“Oh, don't worry, my knight in shining armor, she beat me to it,” Jensen said as he released your hand and returned to his seat.

Jared’s approving smile heated the SUV to an unreasonable level, and you wondered if that might be your curse all night, sweating in the wake of Jared’s praise. He prodded Jensen in the shoulder as he said, “I brought backup.”

Jensen scoffed as the SUV pulled away from the hotel. “Great, now I have to put up with two of you.”

“Hey, I didn't pick a side here, I'm still Switzerland in this war,” you teased.

Jensen laughed and Jared mocked him as he threw a side-eyed glare at you. And then a thought occurred to you that, depending on their response, might sour the evening. “Do you guys do this often?”

“Do what?” Jensen asked.

“Pick up random fans in hotels and take them out?”

Jared’s nose turned a pink bright enough to be seen by the dashboard light. “No,” he started. “We don’t.”

“I mean, we’ve had our fair share of one—”

“Dude!”

Jensen scoffed as he leaned over the console again. “Oh, c’mon, man, she’s not some naive little girl, why do you think she asked?” he started as he regarded you again, then paused with a furrow of his brow. “Wait, how old are you?”

“Old enough.”

Jensen shook his head as he said, “Nope. Your pithy tongue isn’t getting you out of this one.”

“You think this is a pithy tongue, just wait until I’ve had a couple drinks,” you said with a laugh.

“Only a couple?” Jared asked

You scoffed at that. “I’m not a cheap date. Single barrel scotch is my go-to, and it only takes about two of those before I’m a beer or two shy of fucking wasted.”

Clif turned the corner with a bark of his own laugh as he said, “You sure know how to pick ‘em.” The SUV lumbered to a stop outside of the pub as he added, “I’ll go park and be back in a minute.”

“We’ll head upstairs right away, looks busy,” Jared suggested as he hopped from the truck.

Jensen opened your door and held out his hand for you. As capable as you were to exit the truck on your own, the chance to hold Jensen’s hand again would not go squandered. His gentle grasp contrasted with his rough skin, and your imagination ran further into the trenches with that second connection.

From the truck, you hopped to your feet and Jensen shut the door behind you with a wave for Clif. Quite familiar with the pub, you headed in first and went directly to the stairs in the back. The lower level was packed, but around the corner, the noisy din of the bar faded. Uninterrupted, you ascended the stairs and checked over your shoulder to find Jared and Jensen following you, a smile from each.

At the top you asked them, “Bar or table?”

Jared motioned far across the bar to a smaller booth area. Dim lamps illuminated the tables, bathed in soft golden light and secluded from most others. Perfect. You agreed without a word and followed Jared as he started for the table.

A few eyes followed, some squinting, and a couple wide with recognition. Jared waved and Jensen mouthed a greeting, but no one approached. Once seated, you beside Jared and Jensen across, a server rushed to the table. “Eating tonight?”

“Just drinks,” Jensen said as he ordered from the beer list.

Jared ordered a manhattan on the rocks, much to your surprise, and you ordered your preferred scotch. The server left, leaving a drink menu behind, and Jensen eyed you with a subtly suspicious raise of his brow. “You weren’t joking.”

“I’ll pay for my own drinks,” you said. “Shits expensive.”

“You never answered my question though,” he continued. “You enjoy good scotch, you’re not in complete shock around us, which, is refreshing, you managed to get Jared to order hard liquor for the first time in ages, and you didn’t get carded.”

“Hey,” Jared interjected but Jensen bowled him over.

“How old are you?”

The server returned with your drinks, Clif arriving on his heels and sliding into an adjacent booth with a few people in tow. You took the opportunity to sip from your glass, then said, “I’m thirty-four.”

Jared nearly spit out his drink. “I don’t believe you.”

“Which was why I avoided the question,” you started. “Nobody does.”

“I thought you were older for some reason,” Jensen said, then immediately backpedaled. “I mean, like, not in the face. That’s why I didn’t guess. You hardly look old enough to be drinking. But everything about your personality said otherwise.”

Jared’s nose scrunched as he backhanded your shoulder. “I still don’t believe you’re thirty-four. I’ve really only got two years on you?”

Despite the distraction of physical contact, you pulled out your wallet and handed him your driver’s license. “And you look about 20 when you’re completely clean shaven. Don’t make it seem like you didn’t win the genetic lottery.”

He handed back your license with a hearty laugh. “I shouldn’t complain, I know,” he sighed. “Jensen can, though. He’s old.”

“Distinguished,” you corrected as you hefted your glass towards Jensen. “I can only hope I make forty-one look as hot as you do.”

Jensen hid his smile behind his glass as he toasted yours, but he failed to hide the pink that colored his cheeks. “If you can pass for an under-age drinker at thirty-four, your forties will be glorious.”

Jared added his glass. “I’ll second that, even though he’s hitting on you.”

“What? I don’t see a ring,” Jensen started. “And it’s not like she hasn’t been flirting with both of us since the car.”

How had he arrived at that conclusion? An eyebrow quirked towards your hairline as you asked, “Sarcasm and witty banter count as flirting now? What’s next, eye contact?”

That drew both men up short, but you had not intended to attack them. Jared’s chastised frown and Jensen’s crestfallen pout broke your heart. “Guys, it’s fine. I’m just giving you shit. Flirt all you want, it doesn't bother me.”

“You sure?” Jared started as his tentative touch found your knee. “We shouldn’t have assumed, I’m sorry.”

A bewildered shake of your head preceded your laugh, and you held his hand firm, hoping to reassure him. “Don’t apologize, seriously. It’s not everyday guys like you flirt with me. Actually, it’s more like no guys ever, but that’s beside the point.”

“Fuck that, they’re missing out,” Jensen scoffed before he took a long pull from his beer. “I doubt you never get hit on.”

“I didn’t say that. Plenty of women hit on me and they’re way better at it than men are,” you said with another laugh. “Besides the two of you, that is.”

“Still,” Jared started, “I don’t know why a guy wouldn’t hit on you. You’re stunning. I’m surprised you’re not on TV at the least.”

You almost spat out your drink. “My fat face? Do you know how much weight I’d have to lose to get into the industry on my own? I have zero connections,” you explained. “And don’t say it, I know damn well I’m not fat. I work out a ton and practice martial arts. Could I be in better shape? Sure. But to accomplish that I’d have to do none of this,” you paused as you gestured with your glass, then took another sip. “And probably quit my day job.”

A thoughtful smile hooked Jensen’s full lips. “We should train together tomorrow morning.”

“What?”

“What time do you need to be at the convention?” Jared asked, seeming to catch Jensen’s idea.

“Ten o’clock. I’m in VIP and shit starts right away,” you replied.

The two men considered each other as Jared squeezed your thigh. “So, we’ll be seeing plenty of you at the con, then, too?” he suggested.

That sting of embarrassment returned to your cheeks. “Actually, Jared, you’ll be seeing a lot of me on Sunday. I bought your photo op and meet and greet. Jensen, I love you, too, but I gotta admit, I’m more than a little obsessed with Jared.”

The massive hand on your thigh inched higher, nearing your center and squeezed.  You gathered every ounce of willpower you had not to react. But Jared’s coy smile and Jensen’s knowing smirk had you dead to rights. “How about we train for a quick hour. Six o’clock sound good? Give you enough time to get ready for the con?”

“I uh,” you stuttered, Jared’s hand yet rubbing your thigh. You downed the last of your scotch to give yourself a chance to breathe. “That should work.”

Jensen checked his watch, then finished the last of his beer. “Should probably head back then. You good with that?”

Jared nodded as he pushed his empty drink to you. “Want the cherries?”

“How did you know?”

He laughed a short chuckle through his nose. “You kept staring at my empty glass.”

Damn perceptive of him. The first cherry disappeared in a quick bite, but as you brought the second to your lips, you paused as you saw both Jared and Jensen starting at you. Might as well give them something to look at, then. The cherry met your tongue as you reached for it, drew it to your lips, and then sucked it from the stem.

Jared gaped without reservation while Jensen’s crooked smile returned. He turned to Jared and said, without an ounce of sarcasm, “I hate you. I hate how lucky you are. I hope you know that.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Jared said as he urged you from the booth with a prod of your thigh.

You slid from your seat and waited for Jensen to talk to Clif, who begged off from his group and headed for the door. Jared tossed some money on the table as he placed a hand at the small of your back and guided you ahead of them.

“I was going to get my drink,” you said over your shoulder.

“And I said I was going to pay for it,” he retorted.

“Such a gentleman,” Jensen mocked. “He never buys me drinks unless we’re out with a group.”

“Shut up.”

Oh. So, it was true. They didn’t just bicker like an old married couple. They were an old married couple. At least, in spirit.

“You know,” you started, “I’m not opposed to entertaining more than one person tonight.”

Jensen eyed you over his shoulder as he neared the steps. “You want me to follow him up?”

Had you read the two of them wrong? “You guys don’t… you know,” you paused as you gestured with your fingers in the shape of an X. “Cross swords?”

Jared’s face turned a shade of crimson you’d yet to see, but despite his embarrassment, both he and Jensen laughed. As you descended the stairs, Jared wrapped an arm around your shoulders and said, “It’s not uncommon.”

“But?”

Jensen shrugged as he rounded the bannister. “Why don't we save that for another night?”

Jared pulled you flush to his hip as your arm slipped around his back. “Are you sure?” you asked.

Jensen’s laughter rivaled the sweetest song as he pushed aside the door. “Positive. You kids have fun. But don’t forget, gym, six o’clock. I wanna see what you can do.”

“We’ll be there,” Jared said as his thumb rubbed the back of your neck.

The black SUV rounded the corner as you shivered beneath Jared’s touch, the anticipation of his intentions shooting straight to you core.

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Unconventional

@wayward-and-worn @evansrogerskitten

[pjbehindthesun]

chapter 28: rock, paper, scissors, shoot

(okay, I finally gave up on this impossibly long chapter that was taking me forever to complete and split it into two chapters so I’d have something to show for myself after such a long break. so here’s the first part. my apologies if this approach makes for an underwhelming update. here goes... something.)

Monday, November 12th, 1990

That wasn’t so bad. I mean, we were all pretty loose, so there were plenty of fuck-ups, which would ordinarily make me crazy, but perfection wasn’t the point of this show. That was never the point. Andy wouldn’t have given a shit about it, anyway. He was always able to roll with absolutely anything that happened and pull it off as though he’d planned it the whole time. Even though we just stepped off the stage, I’ve already forgotten the finer details of what we played or how we sounded. It already feels like a dream that’s slipping away the moment you wake up and try to pin down what was so memorable about it. All I’m hanging onto is the feeling that it was fucking fun, that the people here understood why we did it. I think he would have loved it. 

And, bonus: at least I remembered to wear pants this time. Nothing worse than playing a show and looking down at your guitar halfway through to realize you forgot to put on pants and the whole room’s just staring at your underwear. Brutal. 

Pushing my way further and further out from the stage isn't helping me regain my sense of clarity. People keep clapping me on the back, talking to me as I move by them, but I don’t recognize anyone, and the crush of people just gets denser, hotter, less familiar. More striking than anyone’s features is the glare from the disco ball, which keeps fucking up my equilibrium and making it that much harder to focus. Everyone’s shouting, god, why is it so fucking loud in here? and it feels like someone’s calling me, but I can’t figure out who, or from where. Everyone’s voice kinda sounds like Charlie Brown’s parents… distorted, underwater… except for that nagging feeling that someone’s calling my name, clear as a bell, and I can’t figure out who… 

Until a hand, smaller, with fingers that somehow manage to feel chilly despite the stifling heat in this place, slips into mine, lacing our fingers tightly before pulling my arm nearly out of its socket, and I break into a smile. None of the faceless people around me indicate that the hand is theirs, but that’s okay, I know exactly whose it is as it makes every effort to pull me off my feet unless I finally start moving and follow it. That’s fair. You got me. We’ve stalled long enough. “Sorry, excuse me, sorry,” I offer again and again as I stumble through the herd, shouldering past strangers, laughing in delirium, squinting ahead to try to get a glimpse of her as she tows me in her wake, but I can’t see shit, so it’s a wasted effort, at least until we get a little farther out from the center of the crowd. Where are we even going? Ah, fuck it, just let it happen. I’ve got a good feeling about it.

Sure enough, the sea of people thins out just enough that I can see my own hand, holding tightly to the one directing me on a circuitous path all throughout the room, and I let my gaze follow up along the arm it’s attached to: the arm wearing a much-too-big green sweater with the cuffs rolled up, the long red hair swaying to the quick rhythm of her gait, occasionally allowing the smallest glint of a tiny, brass, star-shaped earring if she turns her head just slightly, so fleeting that there’s no way I’d know what shape it was unless I already knew it was there, but of course I do. My laughter gets louder, and she doesn’t turn around, but her voice floats over her shoulder and into my ears with perfect clarity, cutting through any other noise even though it’s barely above a whisper. 

“Shut up, Stone, let’s get out of here.” 

“This isn’t the way outside…” 

“Did I say it was?” 

She’s dragged me back toward the stage, or behind it, and we’re squeezing behind an amp and a partial curtain into the world’s tiniest alcove. I didn’t know this was even here… how did she even know this was here? How does she always know? It’s so dark behind the curtain that I can’t even see her anymore, but I don’t need to, not once her arms are wound around my neck and her lips are on mine. The outcome is inexorable. I’m not going to put up a fight. I’ve got her skirt tugged up to her hips… it’s always the same skirt, every time, and thank god for that… and she’s just begun to unbuckle my belt when deafening sirens assault my ears and break my concentration. What the fuck? Who called the cops? Wait a minute… this is the fucking Off Ramp, not some baby teenage all-ages show, a raid doesn’t even make any sense, unless… 

...it’s my alarm clock. Fuck. 

That’s the third time in a week I’ve had this exact same dream. I close my eyes and sink back into the pillow, trying to hang onto the fading vividness of it, while at the same time feeling like an absolute moron for savoring this ridiculous fantasy my subconscious is so fond of. We’re in such a weird place right now, me and Cora. Who knows what the hell's gonna happen at the show tomorrow night, but definitely not that. No way. I mean, not that I’d protest if it did, but I’m pretty sure she’s too busy pretending I don’t exist to have time to drag me into a darkened corner and have her way with me.

Jesus, we’ve really made a mess of this whole thing. I don’t think she said a single word to me last night. I kept trying to get her attention, but she acted like I wasn’t even there! I'd even planned to try to ditch everyone else at the end of the night so I could get her alone for thirty seconds, but after receiving her silent treatment, I chickened out. I'm not exactly proud of myself, but what would I have even said? That I’m sorry I’ve made everything so awkward lately, that I was hoping to slow things down between us just a little bit but not All The Way Down, that I really want to talk to her, that there’s no rush, that she just needs to tell me when she’s ready and I’ll be here? 

...wait, actually, that’s probably a pretty good idea… 

Enough of this shit. I pick up the phone and punch in her number, but the sound of her answering machine after the fourth ring takes the wind out of my sails. Still, I’ve got to say something, the tape’s already picked up… 

***

“Hey, Eddie!” 

“Huh? Oh, hey.” I look up from the hallway carpet pattern to acknowledge the person I almost ran into: a sweaty, panting Cora, obviously just back from a run and waiting for me to get out of the way of her door. “Sorry,” I offer as I edge over to the other side of the hallway and try to keep going. Of all the people to run into, the person I always accidentally say too much around is the worst case scenario right now. I can’t catch a fucking break.

“You’ve got the worst timing, you know that?” she grins as she fumbles for her door key. 

“What do you --” 

“Not that it’s a bad thing! It’s kind of comforting at this point. I just feel like I always run into you at the worst possible times, like, some kind of terrible shit’s just happened in my personal life, or I look like I’ve been dragged by a city bus for sixteen blocks,” she waves lazily at her appearance with her free hand, glancing over with that characteristic Cheshire Cat look still plastered on her face. “Don’t know if I’ve ever actually told you that, but you have the worst timing in the world. It’s like you have some kind of ‘not right now’ sensor.” 

“I can fucking relate,” I mutter bitterly, sidestepping past her. 

“Hey! Get back here!” 

Her shout sets my teeth on edge. I should just keep walking. I should just keep walking. I should just get in my fucking truck and start driving. But something makes me stop, turn, and stare at her shoes. 

“Look, Cora, it’s just not a good time, alright?” 

“You could have just said that.” 

“I’m pretty sure I just did.” 

“Well you don’t have to bite my head off about it, I’m not trying to keep you against your will! And not that it matters now, but I actually meant it as a compliment.” 

“Yeah, you’ve got a funny way of paying people compliments.” 

“Don’t mind me, I’m still punishing you for calling me diplomatic.”

“Won’t make that mistake again.” 

She heaves a deep sigh, and I watch her sneakers shuffle as her posture shifts. “I meant it, Eddie, it’s always good to see you. Even when it’s not. I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to start a fight, it just came out wrong.” 

“Yeah… okay. Look, I should probably be going…” 

“What’s going on, bud, you okay?” 

When I finally force myself to look up at her face, it’s creased with something more like concern than the hostility I’d expected, and I feel my shoulders drop from my ears. I hadn’t even realized how tightly I’d been holding them there. I let my hands flex, aware now that they’d been balled up into fists. What an idiot. Of all the people I’d like to have a shouting match with right now, Cora’s pretty far down the list.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just��� tired. You’re the same way, you know? You’re always running into me in the wrong place at the wrong time too.” I try for a smile, but it must be a pretty pitiful attempt, because it makes her crack up into that slightly husky laugh of hers.

“Terrible timing is our superpower, I guess.” 

“Guess so,” I concede, except to me, it’s not really all that terrible. The thing about this woman is that she always turns the wrong place at the wrong time into someplace that’s worth inhabiting. She always manages to pick me up and dust me off and make me feel like everything’s going to be okay. I have no idea how she does that, but I’m not about to try to admit it to her right now. 

“So you’re fleeing town, I take it?” 

“What?” 

One eyebrow shoots up. “Your bag?” 

“Oh. Uh, no, I'm driving back to San Diego tonight. To get the rest of my stuff." I wave my little duffel bag forward like a white flag, a plea for forgiveness after having been such a grouchy bastard.

"Didn't you already do that?" 

“Well, I did one trip, yeah, but not everything fit in my truck the first time, so my buddy’s been holding onto some of it for me. And… uh, Beth called him this weekend, she found some of my stuff mixed in with hers, you know, records and some other things I actually want back, so I kinda feel like I should…" 

"Oh." 

"Yeah."

“Is she gonna meet you to give it back, or...?”

“No, that’s the kicker, she gave it all to him already, said there wasn’t any point in us seeing each other.” 

“Fuck. That’s kind of harsh.” 

“You’re telling me.”

“And will this be another pharmacologically enhanced journey?” She mimes hand tremors. 

“Nah, I’ll be good.” 

“‘Good’ being defined as someone who pulls over onto the side of the road to take a nap like a normal human being, right? So I don’t have to delve into the dark arts and resurrect you from the dead just to kill you for being a fucking impulsive idiot, right?” The tremors start creeping toward my throat menacingly, and I can’t help laughing as I try to bat them away.  

“On my idiot honor.” 

“K. Good to know I still terrify you,” she nods approvingly as she drops her hands. 

She does terrify me. Yet another thing I can’t admit. You’d have to be a much more committed idiot than me not to recognize Stone’s feelings for her, and I’m not about to let this little fascination of mine make waves with my new bandmate. It’s just a phase. A phase with the worst timing in the world.

“But hey, this means you’ll have to fill me in on every detail of the show tomorrow night,” I plead. 

“Uh huh.” Cora starts fidgeting with her keys again. 

“You’re going, aren’t you?” 

“Uh, I haven’t decided. I have a lot of work to do this week, and extra shifts at Cyclops to make up for last week, and…” 

“...and I’m pretty sure both Chris and Stone will never forgive you if you don’t go, and neither will I, since I need the full report, so just accept your fate already.” 

“Don’t tell me what to do,” she snaps defiantly, but her face is pure mischief again as she opens her door and looks up. “Want me to earn some bad karma in exchange for Beth’s while you’re gone? I could put her number inside the mens’ bathroom door at the Off Ramp? You know, ‘for a good time, call...’”

My jaw drops, but I can’t stop myself from laughing. “Don’t! That’s diabolical!”

“Or maybe I could interest you in a donation to the Seattle Zoo in her honor?” 

“A charitable contribution? Not that I’m arguing, but how exactly is that karmic justice?” 

“They might be willing to name their most disgusting sea slug after her? Come to think of it, I don’t know the going rate for christening a sea slug, but it can’t be that expensive, right?” 

“Ha, you sound like you’ve given this revenge concept a fair amount of thought…” 

“Oh, never mind, you’re probably one of those boring decent human being types who takes the best revenge by falling in love again and being all happy and living some kind of long, fulfilling life, huh?” 

I study my own shoes this time, trying not to smile too crazily. “One can only hope.” 

“Drive safe, bud. I’ll miss you at the show.” 

One last Cheshire Cat grin is visible along her profile before she disappears into her apartment. With a big sigh, I continue my trajectory down the stairs and back into the mess of my old life. At least now I’ve got some more uplifting thoughts to mull over on my long drive. 

***

Only after a horrifically wasteful long, hot shower do I notice the light on my answering machine. Hmph. I wonder how many messages have racked up since whenever the last time was that I checked it. I haven't been home a lot lately, thanks to playing catch-up everywhere else -- the lab, the cafe, my friendships… at least, those friendships that seem to miss me… at any rate, it’s probably good for me to be away from this apartment as much as I can. It feels so alien now. Sterile. It probably mostly feels that way because I’ve been cleaning it obsessively whenever I have any downtime, but it’s hard to ignore how silent living alone is. I’ve never had to do that before. I used to think I’d be really good at living alone, I mean, Alex was hardly ever around when he did live here, so what difference does it make now that he’s moved out? Logically, it shouldn’t matter at all, but the bewildering vastness of a double bed that’s officially single-occupancy, the sink that stays clean after I do the dishes, the gap-toothed voids on the shelves where his things used to be, all team up to make the absence unmistakable. It’s too quiet and too clean here without him. Not that having him around would make my life any better. I don’t really miss him, but there’s this weird Alex-shaped hole in my life now. 

It feels forbidden to push play on the answering machine, like I’m making too much noise in church, but I have a sudden and violent need to fill this place with something different.  

A sharp, throat-clearing cough is the first sound that greets my ears. Recognizing instantly who the cough came from, I freeze up and start to chew my nails. 

"Hey, Cora, uh, sorry, guess you already left… I only tried calling this early because I figured you'd still be at home. Uh…" 

As Stone fumbles his words, I feel an intense desire to scoop each one up and hold onto them, turn them over in my hands, inspect them, stash them in my pockets for safekeeping. I really miss the sound of his stupid voice. 

"I was… I was actually hoping to talk to you last night, but y'know, with everyone around, I didn't want to…"

He trails off as though his meaning is obvious, but I want to reach through the phone and rattle him by his bony shoulders. WHAT? You didn't want to what? What couldn’t you say with everyone around? Why couldn’t you just shake them off and come back? Why can't you just say it now? Spit it out, Stoner! 

"Anyway, I just wanted to call and make sure you were coming to the show tomorrow. It's just… it's not a big deal or anything, it's just kind of a big deal to me that you're there, you know?" 

Oh. I mean, obviously, that was all it was. Just calling around to make sure people show up tomorrow night. I'm sure he and the guys have all been making the rounds. I shouldn't have expected anything different, honestly. I bet he called every single person he knows. 

But is it a big deal to him that every single person he knows is there? Or is it just a big deal that I’m there? 

God, I need to get over myself, why would it matter to him if I’m there? That’s not the reason I should go to the show. I should go to support him. To support all of them. My friends. That’s what tomorrow’s about. It’s not about… whatever this is… or was, or… what is it now, anyway? I wish I could just talk to him about it, I wish… 

I run out of time to angst, because his perfunctory message wraps up and I’m just contemplating saving this tape so I can replay it over and over to continue my obsessive analysis when the next message starts. A dry voice, with dry information. It’s the women’s health clinic I went to last week. My test results came back all clear, and they’re just calling to double-check the address of the pharmacy where I want my birth control prescription renewed. This set of sentences layers over top of the fresh memory of Stone’s voice in a way that makes my stomach fill with butterflies. Juvenile, maybe, but not unwelcome. But the next sound on the tape dissolves the butterflies in a churn of acid. 

“Hey, C….” Alex’s voice drapes itself over the tape in his usual bored, lazy tone. He’s overdoing it. It makes me wince. “How’s things?”

He waits, like he’s expecting an answer, and the silence in the apartment feels even more uncomfortable now that it’s been broken by his voice again. “I was just calling to give you my new number, if you want it, it’s --” 

I don’t. I don’t! Why the hell would I want your new number? 

“It’s, uh, well, it’s the number at Cindy’s place, I… I’m living here now, we, uh... just, if you need to find me for any reason.” 

I won’t. There’s no reason, ever, not ever. Get out of here, get out, stop talking, get out of my apartment…

“Uh, I think I saw you at the grocery store the other day. You looked… you looked really good. At least I’m pretty sure it was you. Heh, it’s hard to miss all that beautiful red hair. I didn’t want to come up and say hi, I figured I’d just be bothering you, but I just wanted you to know… you looked great. Seeya round, C.” 

The last message ends. I look down at the small cassette in my hands, already ejected from the machine with its ribbon unspooled and crushed in my fist, wondering dimly how it got there so fast. It’s not important now. There’s something else I need to take care of. My numb fingers deposit the tape in the trash, grab the kitchen scissors, and let down my soaking wet hair on the way to the bathroom. 

***

Tuesday, November 13th, 1990

“What’s on your mind?” 

I glance over at Jeff as we walk back to our building from the court, trying not to beam too openly as he goofs off with the ball and showcases a Globetrotters spin on his index finger. I’m not sure what the statute of limitations is for harboring a rampant schoolgirl crush on your own boyfriend, but it hasn’t expired yet. He always thinks these games of one-on-one basketball are his idea and that I’m just humoring him by playing along. But the truth is that I’ll gladly soak up any opportunity to marvel at the spectacle of him showing off. I’m dating an athlete? A tall, gorgeous, kind, sensitive, artistic athlete? What parallel universe am I in? Guys like Jeff are never interested in me. It still doesn’t feel real.

“I still can’t believe you let me win.” 

“I still can’t believe you don’t believe me. I got my ass handed to me back there! And I’m not talking about the groping,” he adds as my hand pats around to make sure his ass is still in place. 

“You’re a liar, Ament. I love you for it, but you’re a damn dirty liar.” 

“Am not. You’re just a way better ball-handler than I’ll ever be.” 

“I was talking about the basketball game.” 

“So was I… mostly.” 

“God, you have a one-track mind.” 

“At least you always know what’s on it. So?”

Jeff tucks the basketball under one arm and snakes the other arm around my waist. I always have to stretch out my stride to keep up with him when we walk this way, but it’s worth it to be able to lean into his solid, reassuring frame. Even if we’re both in bad need of a shower before his show tonight. Not that I’m complaining about that being next on our agenda.

“So what?” 

“So, moving in together. Have you given it any more thought or not?” 

Damn it. I knew he was going to bring it up again eventually, I mean, in fairness, I’ve left him no choice. I’ve acted for a week like he never said anything, and he’s been a gentleman not to hassle me about it. I was just kinda hoping he could keep being gentlemanly and stolid about it forever and save me the trouble of ever making up my mind. 

“Of course I have.” 

“And? What do you think?”

“I think…I need more time to think about it.” 

He deflates against my shoulder. “What’s to think about? You love me, right?” 

“Of course.” 

“We spend all our time together.” 

“As much as humanly possible.” I snuggle him tighter, hoping to squeeze more confidence into him. 

“This is the best relationship I’ve ever been in, I don’t plan on it ever ending.” 

“Well that’s good, because you’re definitely stuck with me.” 

“So? Moving in’s the next logical step.” 

“But just because something’s the next logical step, doesn’t mean you have to take it right away, right?” 

“...no…” 

“I mean, why mess with a good thing? What if we move in together and it screws the whole dynamic up, and we suddenly realize we hate each other?” 

Jeff stops in his tracks. “Do you think that’s likely?” 

“No! No, I’m not saying that’ll happen, just… everything’s so good right now, why do we need to change it?” I tug on his tree-like midsection to get him to start walking again, and he obliges. 

“Because what if the change is even better? Isn’t it a much more likely scenario that we’ll be really good at this whole living together thing?” 

“Sure.” 

“So why not just do it?” he huffs, sounding increasingly frustrated as we turn the last street corner and our building looms into view, as if it’s eavesdropping on our conversation. 

“I… just… I don’t know, if it isn’t broken…” 

“But we hardly ever spend time separately in our own apartments when we’re both home.” 

“No, but it’s kinda nice that we have the option…” 

“Is paying rent twice really worth the option? Is it that important to you to be able to get away from me?” 

“Hey! Don’t do that.” I’m the one who stops dead this time, dropping my arm from his waist. “It’s not about wanting to get away from you, I just… I like having the option to keep my own space, to change my mind if we need to blow off steam, or --” 

“God, Lucy, you’re so…”

“So what??” 

“So… stubborn! It’s the exact same with work! You hate your job, you know you want to do something else, you even know what you want that something else to be, you have a career path all picked out, so why don’t you fuckin’ go after it?” 

“Uhhh, because it’s a lot of additional classes and loans? And I’ve only been out of school a couple years and I’m enjoying not being a student for the first time ever? And my job may be boring but it pays well? And it’s fine for now, and I like the way my life is now? And it’s none of your damn business and you have no right to pressure me?” 

His face crumples in on itself, and I instantly feel horrible for unloading on him like that, even though he gave as good as he got. When he speaks again, his voice is more subdued. 

“I’m sorry, babe, I just… I don’t get it. I don’t get not going for the things you want, I don’t get wasting time if you want to change a situation, I don’t… I just don’t get it.”

I do. Well, I get where he’s coming from, at least. I know how many times he’s had the rug pulled out from under him when he worked hard for something he wanted. I know he’s lost people he’s close to. I know where this carpe diem thing comes from. But just because I get it, that doesn’t mean I have to abide by the same code. What if my version of carpe diem looks different than his? I wish he could get that into his head. But I’m turned inside out from our first real fight, so spitting out any kind of coherent explanation feels impossible. 

“I know. Just give me a little more time.” 

Jeff nods, accepting defeat, or at least a truce, and we plod up the stairs together in silence. I decide to stop at the third floor and let him go on to the fourth, because if ever there was a time to take advantage of having separate corners to cool down in, it’s now. We’re going to the show at separate times anyway. He doesn’t argue. He just shrugs and heads on without me. 

But I don’t key into my own place. I listen to his footsteps, wait for the sound of a door upstairs, count to ten, take a deep breath, and start up after him. This whole issue is so fucking stupid, why are we fighting about it? Obviously I love him and he loves me, and this is just a dumb misunderstanding of each other's priorities. I should just go spit it out, right? He'll understand, right?

Instead, I find myself stopped short in front of Cora's door. I know I should go talk to Jeff, but no one understands me quite like she does, and I really just want a sympathetic ear. As usual, her door is unlocked, and as usual, I let myself in like I live here, basking in the familiarity, in the reassurance of a known quantity, until… 

“Oh… my god… Cora... WHAT the FUCK did you do with your hair????”

[hugogw]

( CIS-MALE. HE/HIM ) you know SEBASTIAN ‘BASH’ GRAYSON, right? they’re TWENTY ONE and majoring in MUSIC COMPOSITION? still nothing? well, they look exactly like TIMOTHEE CHALAMET, so you can’t miss them. i’ve heard they’re really PASSIONATE, but super DESTRUCTIVE too… it makes perfect sense that they’re a VIRGO. anyways, if you see them, tell them they left their BINDER OF SHEET MUSIC in class and that i have it. 

hi guys! i’m madison and i’m super excited to be apart of this group? i already love it and every one of you SM so please, do me the honor in plotting with me! like this if you’d like to plot with bash and i’ll message you!

TW: Abuse, Alcoholism

There he is, the Dean’s son and an actual legacy.

For as long as he could remember, it’s unfortunately always been him and his father. His mom died while giving birth to Bash and his Dad has never ever forgiven him for it.

His father is abusive and an alcoholic (that same gene he passed down to his son unfortunately) though he hides it well because…he’s the Dean of the school. Both physically, emotionally and verbally. Since he’s been dealing with it his entire life, he’s sort of accepted it as something that he deserves so he doesn’t really fight it. After all, if it weren’t for him his mother would still be alive. And his father isn’t hurting anyone other than him so Bash has never…really seen the problem. A complete victim’s mindset.

So due to this he thinks he’s a worthless piece of shit that won’t amount to anything and who doesn’t deserve love or happiness. As his father constantly reminds him, he’s just a burden on the world and all around him, feeding to the country’s overpopulation. He was the biggest mistake of his Dad’s life.

Again, he thinks he deserves it and he believes he needs his father. Dean Grayson has convinced him that he wouldn’t survive a minute in the world without him. Bash is just…delusional and as much as he hates his Dad, he grossly respects and values his opinion. After all he doesn’t know better and doesn’t know anything more.

His father shielded him from a normal childhood too. He was homeschooled and had very few school friends. It wasn’t until high school where he was suddenly thrust into the social scene and let’s just say he didn’t adjust well.

On the frequent occasions where his father beats him to where it’s visible, Bash will usually go to a bar and elicit a fight to get more flesh wounds apparent so that he has an alibi. So basically everyone at Somerset just thinks he’s a drunken troublemaker who gets into a shit ton of fights. Which like…isn’t wrong. He is drunk or high 99% of the time and he’s getting into fights.

At least when he gets hit, he feels something. Whereas he’s gotten so good at numbing and shoving down any sort of feelings. Shout out to liquor!

He’s always loved music, it’s his sole happy place and when his fingers are gracing that of a piano it’s like…he’s transported away from the bullshit. As lame as it sounds, he feels like his piano is his only and last connection to his Mom. She used to play and when he plays, he feels like he’s playing for her and to her like…spiritually. He can feel her when he’s writing, composing and playing. She gives him the music and he puts it to paper.

Also gay af.

ALSO DO NOT CALL HIM SEBASTIAN. it’s a massive fucking trigger for him! it’s what his dad always calls him before he’s about to beat the shit out of him. i mean you can but he won’t react great.

PERSONALITY WISE:

He’s a sarcastic asshole who tries to act all tough but who is severely craving human intimacy and companionship. When people start to get close and he starts to trust them, he panics, literal panic attacks that cause him to just snap and do everything he can to push that person FAR away and out of his life. He’s really smart but he doesn’t think so which means he doesn’t apply himself. Doesn’t really trust anyone. Will party and sometimes when he’s really high he’ll like…relax and cut loose and be real with people but then the next day he’ll deny it ever happened.

PLOTS:

In simple terms: FWB, Exes that he probably cheated on or pushed away, Hook ups, Friends, Study buddies, party buddies, smoking buddies, reckless shithead buddies etc.

MORE DETAILED PLOTS:

ROMANTIC/PHYSICAL:

[ current | fwb ] muse a and muse b met through mutual friends and quickly hit it off as friends. offhandedly one day, muse a mentioned something one day that muse b quickly turned sexual. they locked eyes and the next minute they were in a room, locked away, undressing each other. after exiting the room, the two agreed that it would never happen again…until a few days later, when it did. they keep saying they won’t come back for more.

[ current | just do it already ] muse a and muse b have been in love with each other for like, ever. neither of them are willing to admit it though, even to themselves. their friends are constantly joking about it and they both wave it off – but when one isn’t looking, anyone could see the adoration in the other’s face with ease.

[ past | dating ] muse a and muse b were the kind of people that immediately rejected each other, going to other people instead. then muse a found themselves in a room with their ex and pulled muse b aside to ask them to fake being their significant other for the night. over the next few hours, their fake date became a real one and soon things progressed into a relationship.

[ previous | friends…i guess? ] muse a and muse b were friends prior to their spontaneous hook-up and their world turned upside down. dazed, they decided to start dating that moment and to their credit, tried to make it work for a few weeks. muse a finally ( and nervously ) let out that they weren’t feeling it. to their relief, muse b admitted they were feeling the same. they decided to stay friends, but now have the added “i’ve seen you naked” awkwardness.

[ previous/current | on again, off again ] muse a and muse b love each other, but their relationship is toxic so they are constantly on and off. they always get along as friends, but the second they became lovers something always changes. they care a lot about each other, but something always goes awry.

[ your choice | hook up ] muse a recently broke up with their significant other, and in their post-breakup state got some revenge by hooking up with their ex’s best friend, muse b. neither expected the night to be so…memorable. your choice on what they do about it.

PLATONIC:

[ positive | two way street ] muse a and muse b frequent the same coffee shop and often made casual hellos to each other until the coffee shop raised their prices. muse a went to order their usual drink and lifted their eyes in surprise at the new price, hand helplessly prepared to hand over exact change. muse b quickly swooped in and saved the day, buying both of their coffees. next time they were both in the shop, muse a paid for muse b’s drink. they flip who pays each time as some sort of game now, but they’ve only had minor conversation as one or the other always seems to be in a rush.

[ positive | friends ] when muse a moved in, they didn’t expect to see muse b climbing up/standing on the fire escape right outside their living room window. they went to confront muse b and scared them, making both fear for the life of muse b for a moment. apologetic, muse a invited muse b in and the two connected almost immediately. ( muse b may or may not have explained their presence on the fire escape during this conversation // reason could have been that they knew who lived in muse a’s apartment before but didn’t know that they moved )

[ current | platonic or romantic ] *tw: alcohol. muse a and muse b met at a bar. throughout the night, muse b got more and more inebriated. being the good ( or bad ) samaritan they are, muse a decides to take muse b back to their house before they end up on the floor. when they arrive at muse a’s building/house, muse b ( loudly ) asks muse a how the heck ! muse a knew where they lived. turns out – they live a mere few floors/doors/houses away from each other.

[ current | platonic ] muse a is an extrovert – so much so that when muse b started moving in, they didn’t even wait for the moving truck to pull away before introducing themselves. in fact, muse a even started helping unload the truck without being asked. ( BONUS: muse b was super grateful for the help and their relationship is great // muse b is Grumpy™ and was annoyed that muse a started helping without asking and their relationship is tense. )

[louisweasleyy]

[ & ; * - matt daddario / homosexual / he/him ] isn’t it weird how close { sebastian 'bash' monroe } resembles { matt daddario }? damn, i heard they are a { twenty three } year old { undergraduate } and a member of { delta sigma chi } studying { music composition }. outside of class { bash } participates in { art } and their party anthem is { colors } by { halsey }.

hi guys! i’m madison and sorry for posting this so late. i have family visiting so my activity is gonna be a little spotty until after this weekend. i’m also playing rory (the kristine froseth fc!) anyways like this if you’d like to plot with bash and i’ll message you!

tw: child abuse, death

There he is, the Dean’s son and a Yale Legacy!

For as long as he could remember, it’s unfortunately always been him and his father. His mom died while giving birth to Bash and his Dad has never ever forgiven him for it.

Their grandparents are never really around except for when they need Bash and his father for publicity but mainly they benefit off of the school’s wages and go on extravagant vacations and want nothing to do with the Monroe boys.

His father is abusive though he hides it well because…he’s the Dean of the school. Both physically, emotionally and verbally. Since he’s been dealing with it his entire life, he’s sort of accepted it as something that he deserves so he doesn’t really fight it. After all, if it weren’t for him his mother would still be alive. And his father isn’t hurting anyone other than him so Bash has never…really seen the problem. A complete victim’s mindset.

So due to this he thinks he’s a worthless piece of shit that won’t amount to anything and who doesn’t deserve love or happiness. As his father constantly reminds him, he’s just a burden on the world and all around him, feeding to the country’s overpopulation. He was the biggest mistake of his Dad’s life.

Even though Sebastian is a MAN now, a whole 23 years, he hasn’t gravitated away from his Dad. Again, he thinks he deserves it and he believes he needs his father. Dean Monroe has convinced him that he wouldn’t survive a minute in the world without him. Bash is just…delusional and as much as he hates his Dad, he grossly respects and values his opinion. After all he doesn’t know better and doesn’t know anything more.

On the frequent occasions where his father beats him to where it’s visible, Bash will usually go to a bar and elicit a fight to get more flesh wounds apparent so that he has an alibi. So basically everyone at Yale just thinks he’s a drunken troublemaker who gets into a shit ton of fights. Which like…isn’t wrong. He is drunk or high 99% of the time and he’s getting into fights.

At least when he gets hit, he feels something. Whereas he’s gotten so good at numbing and shoving down any sort of feelings. Shout out to liquor!

He’s always loved music, it’s his sole happy place and when his fingers are gracing that of a piano it’s like…he’s transported away from the bullshit. As lame as it sounds, he feels like his piano is his only and last connection to his Mom. She used to play and when he plays, he feels like he’s playing for her and to her like…spiritually. He can feel her when he’s writing, composing and playing. She gives him the music and he puts it to paper.

Also gay af.

ALSO DO NOT CALL HIM SEBASTIAN. it’s a massive fucking trigger for him! it’s what his dad always calls him before he’s about to beat the shit out of him. i mean you can but he won’t react great.

His ex-boyfriend is Grayson and his father forced him to break up with him

Also Bash got into Julliard with a full ride scholarship but his dad is...possessive so he fucked with his admissions and made it so Bash could not get accepted into any other school.

PERSONALITY WISE:

He’s a sarcastic asshole who tries to act all tough but who is severely craving human intimacy and companionship. When people start to get close and he starts to trust them, he panics, literal panic attacks that cause him to just snap and do everything he can to push that person FAR away and out of his life. He’s really smart but he doesn’t think so which means he doesn’t apply himself. Doesn’t really trust anyone. Will party and sometimes when he’s really high he’ll like…relax and cut loose and be real with people but then the next day he’ll deny it ever happened.

PLOTS:

In simple terms: FWB, Exes that he probably cheated on or pushed away, Hook ups, Friends, Study buddies, party buddies, smoking buddies, reckless shithead buddies etc.

MORE DETAILED PLOTS:

ROMANTIC/PHYSICAL:

[ current | fwb ] muse a and muse b met through mutual friends and quickly hit it off as friends. offhandedly one day, muse a mentioned something one day that muse b quickly turned sexual. they locked eyes and the next minute they were in a room, locked away, undressing each other. after exiting the room, the two agreed that it would never happen again…until a few days later, when it did. they keep saying they won’t come back for more.

[ current | just do it already ] muse a and muse b have been in love with each other for like, ever. neither of them are willing to admit it though, even to themselves. their friends are constantly joking about it and they both wave it off – but when one isn’t looking, anyone could see the adoration in the other’s face with ease.

[ past | dating ] muse a and muse b were the kind of people that immediately rejected each other, going to other people instead. then muse a found themselves in a room with their ex and pulled muse b aside to ask them to fake being their significant other for the night. over the next few hours, their fake date became a real one and soon things progressed into a relationship.

[ previous | friends…i guess? ] muse a and muse b were friends prior to their spontaneous hook-up and their world turned upside down. dazed, they decided to start dating that moment and to their credit, tried to make it work for a few weeks. muse a finally ( and nervously ) let out that they weren’t feeling it. to their relief, muse b admitted they were feeling the same. they decided to stay friends, but now have the added “i’ve seen you naked” awkwardness.

[ previous/current | on again, off again ] muse a and muse b love each other, but their relationship is toxic so they are constantly on and off. they always get along as friends, but the second they became lovers something always changes. they care a lot about each other, but something always goes awry.

[ your choice | hook up ] muse a recently broke up with their significant other, and in their post-breakup state got some revenge by hooking up with their ex’s best friend, muse b. neither expected the night to be so…memorable. your choice on what they do about it.

PLATONIC:

[ positive | two way street ] muse a and muse b frequent the same coffee shop and often made casual hellos to each other until the coffee shop raised their prices. muse a went to order their usual drink and lifted their eyes in surprise at the new price, hand helplessly prepared to hand over exact change. muse b quickly swooped in and saved the day, buying both of their coffees. next time they were both in the shop, muse a paid for muse b’s drink. they flip who pays each time as some sort of game now, but they’ve only had minor conversation as one or the other always seems to be in a rush.

[ positive | friends ] when muse a moved in, they didn’t expect to see muse b climbing up/standing on the fire escape right outside their living room window. they went to confront muse b and scared them, making both fear for the life of muse b for a moment. apologetic, muse a invited muse b in and the two connected almost immediately. ( muse b may or may not have explained their presence on the fire escape during this conversation // reason could have been that they knew who lived in muse a’s apartment before but didn’t know that they moved )

[ current | platonic or romantic ] *tw: alcohol. muse a and muse b met at a bar. throughout the night, muse b got more and more inebriated. being the good ( or bad ) samaritan they are, muse a decides to take muse b back to their house before they end up on the floor. when they arrive at muse a’s building/house, muse b ( loudly ) asks muse a how the heck ! muse a knew where they lived. turns out – they live a mere few floors/doors/houses away from each other.

[ current | platonic ] muse a is an extrovert – so much so that when muse b started moving in, they didn’t even wait for the moving truck to pull away before introducing themselves. in fact, muse a even started helping unload the truck without being asked. ( BONUS: muse b was super grateful for the help and their relationship is great // muse b is Grumpy™ and was annoyed that muse a started helping without asking and their relationship is tense. )

[romantic-witch]

All You Had To Do Was Stay // David [Pt. 2]

imagine: david confessing about everything

please please read the first chapter first, it's right: here

inspired: you are in love (taylor swift)

warning: english is not my first language. please correct me if I have any grammar mistakes.

Zane, thanks to god, was really understanding of me editing the video by myself. I finished his last vlog and while uploading, he texted me, saying:

"I just filmed a quick bonus video, it's a brand deal don't worry. I'm gonna drive to San Diego to shoot some stuff so I'll drop off the memory card."

Zane making my life easier once again. I had no intention of going back to LA. At least maybe for a thousand years. I can’t, after that night. David tried to call me four times but I ignored two of them and missed the other two.

At least my beliefs didn't change. God sent me another so called "clue" and it failed so back to being an atheist, I guess.

The whole week passed really quicker than I thought. I went to some classes, learned I got an A from my multimedia storytelling class, and ditched some classes, for example that boring ass class named principles of public relations. Of course it's my worst class since I'm not a social butterfly.

I was out, doing some paper work for one of my classes when a text from Zane appeared on my phone.

"Babyy, we decided to shoot in Santa Barbara, so can you pick up the memo card from Scott?"

I responded:

"What was he doing with your memo card lmao?"

"He ran out of storage in his card."

"He says hi btw."

I sent a waving hand emoji and then texted:

"I'll call Scott when I arrive in his place."

He sent an okay emoji.

I handed my work from Google Classroom and started packing my stuff. It was 3.34 pm. It was exactly the time I would start my hour and a half road trip to LA, like every other Friday. I head back to my dorm, dropped off my textbooks and laptop, and with that I began my road trip to the one place I said I wouldn’t go for the rest of my life, with my Subaru SUV.

When it’s the decision of the boss, who literally pays for my student loans, I had to do it.

-

LA traffic is the worst. We literally had zero traffic back in the island. Guam, with over 100k citizens still managed to be the most amazing thing that ever happened to USA while people are praising the City of Angels with it's unbearable traffic and horrible pizza.

I was jamming to some '80s music and then my car, since it's connected to my phone, alarmed me saying:

"You got a new message from..."

The car lady waited a split second and then added:

"David. Do you want me to read it?"

I responded no and got my phone just to see the notification.

"Hey! Heard you were coming to LA? Can we talk?"

I literally threw my phone back to its place, the shotgun seat, and focused more to the road and Madonna.

Maybe if I stop talking to him, he'll think I'm just a piece of ass and stop liking me.

That was my mind set for this past week. Yes, I ignored some of my friends when we got into an argument, but maybe for 10 minutes. I have been ignoring David for the past week, and if he did the same thing to me, I would be pretty pissed. 

He loves Liza. I am just trying to help him see the truth, or the bigger picture. Every single person believes they are going to get married, have 3 kids and two dogs in a huge ass mansion by the time they are 30. Okay, maybe not that early, but still.

The traffic finally gotten better and I started to drive a little bit faster. At least I was not in the highway anymore. Highways give me anxiety and that is no good considering I will have another one just about 25 minutes, when I arrive at the house. But my car, most certainly, was not feeling too great. Some noises started to came from the back which I specifically turned off the radio to hear it.

I pulled over and saw a little hole in my tire, which let the air come out of it. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Why do all of these things happen to me in very specific times? I called someone that could help and waited for them in a nearby cafe for almost an hour.

Scott, Matt and David texted me, saying: in order,

"Hey, I'm going out to see a film with Kristen, text me when you come."

"Heard you were coming to LA, wanna binge the new Titans on Netflix and talk how bad it is?"

"Are you okay?"

"Are you okay?"

The message was continued with two other messages saying:

"You were suppose to come 30 minutes ago."

"I mean you are not suppose to, you usually come around that time."

I wanted to say something. At least tell him that my car broke. But I know for a fact that he will come up here and pick me up. So I texted Scotty.

"Hey, my car broke in Moorpark Street, I'll probably be around when you guys finish the movie. Just wanted to let you know."

"Oh god, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. No worries."

"Our film is about to start, should I sent anybody?"

"Noooo, but thank you anyways."

"Okay, I'll get to you after the film."

After about an hour and three minutes, the employee came and started to look at my tire. She explained that she needed to take it back to the repair shop since it looked like something looks like it stuck between my tire and my car.

She jokingly added:

"Hope, it's not a squirrel or anything!" and started laughing.

I just wished it wasn't and nervously smiled.

My car was starting to get it's place in the truck the lady came with and all I did was to stare at it and think of all the money this was going to take, I didn't realise I was silently crying until the truck started moving and I saw my car in the back of it.

The lady offered me a ride but her place was so off where I was heading, I politely refused.

I started to walk, the house was about 30 minutes away from where I was at. A quick nice walk, Pearl. That's good for your body.

I was walking for almost 5 minutes when a car honk behind me, gave me the chills.

It was the white Tesla.

David looked at me from the open window and said:

"Hop on!"

At this point all I wanted was to edit Zane's video so I did get into his car.

"Hi"

"Hey, Scott texted me but I had to look through the whole Avenue to find you."

"You didn't have to David."

"It's fine, it's fine."

We drove back to the house and didn't have a word.

I can feel his little glances from time to time, but I tried so hard not to look at him. Even once. The city lights were catching my eye, not him.

How can silence be this loud?

It was getting dark and after 20 minutes of driving, we finally came.

David stopped the car, which led the Tesla to open the car lights inside.

David immediately turn the lights off and started to stare at me. And I couldn't help myself but look deeply at him as well.

I got out of the car.

I felt a little tear in my right eyeball falling down, I immediately wiped it off with my hand.

I knocked the door. This was something nobody did in this house. I heard come in from, I'm assuming Jason, and went in.

I pull out my phone and texted Scott that I made it home and then asked Jason where the memo card is.

He said: "You should check the kitchen, it's where Scott edits the most."

I head to the kitchen and Scott's computer, with the memo card plugged in, was on the counter.

Me, being the bad bitch I am, pulled the memo card out of the computer which led to his computer warning me with the notification. 

David was nowhere to be seen. This was my time to escape LA and go back to Long Beach. I’ll catch a bus provided by my lovely school. The MTA Express bus station is not far away. 

The second I opened the house’s main door, Jason from the other side of the room, said:

“Are you leaving?”

“Yeah, gotta edit some stuff.”

“Well, David said he is waiting for you in Todd’s room.”

“Why can’t he, tell that to my face?”

Jason sighed and continued:

“Look Pearl, David might look like a 22 year old adult but he is a literal child. But you are an adult. I know what you are trying to do and I totally understand. But my only advise would be talk to him. Tell your feeling to him, whether it is positive or not.”

These were the only wise words I have heard from Jason. And he looked very sincere. 

“Okay.” I said and walked to Todd’s room.

Jason shouted from the living room:

“You are doing the right thing!”

Todd’s room door was closed. Before heading in, I took a deep breath and leaned my forehead beside the door. 

I opened the door. 

I actually never been in Todd’s room, for obvious reasons. First being, I am just an editor and that was the only reason actually.

A “Hi” came from David but it was quite like mice.

“Hi.” I said.

He was sitting on the bed. I don’t want to be near him so I just stood next to the door.

“So what you wanna talk about?” I said.

I knew what was about to happen but I asked him anyway.

“You know what I wanna talk about.”

“Enlighten me then.” I said jokingly, while sitting in front of David on the bed. 

With his classic laugh, David fell to his back and hit the head of the bed.

I giggled and asked if he was okay.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine.” 

We stared at each other for awhile.   

“I gotta go David, what were you gonna tell me?” I said.

I loved breaking the mood. David’s face went down.

“You don’t think I like you.”

“I don’t think about it, I know it for a fact.”

“How can you know something this personal about me? Think about that then!”

“David, I am just trying for you to see the bigger picture. I see how you look at Liza every single day. I see how you talk about her, those things are not the things you say about a friend.”

“Because she is not my friend.”

“Exactl-”

“She is one of my best friends. We shared a lot of great memories together but the conclusion not only Liza came, but me as well, we are better off as friends.” David bursted.

“I just can’t think of a single reasonable solution why aren’t we together.” he continued.

“I like you and you like me, but you are sitting here stuck in my past relationship more than I am. It might not show it that well but I really really like you Pearl. And I can’t think of-”

I kissed him. I, Pearl Manglona, kissed my dream boy. Well, he kissed me back as well. That was the big shocker.

The kiss became a little steamy when he let me sit on his lap.

And a little more steamy when he pulled his shirt off.

Which let me take off mine as well.

We kissed for maybe a solid forty seconds, after he started kissing my neck. 

He made some solid points about me while he literally confronted me just 5 minutes ago, but he did not knew about my sweet spot. 

I immediately started to giggle, which let me laughing.

David’s face lighten up and said: “I did not taught you were ticklish.” 

“Well I didn’t think I would be confronted by a 22 year old with the mental age of 8.”

“I really like you, wow.”

I went for another kiss.

-

Well thank you for reading!

Also very sorry that I couldn’t upload it sooner. Believe me, I was creatively exhausted.

lots and lots of love <3

zayn :)

[roryaikins]

( cis-male ) haven’t seen SEBASTIAN ‘BASH’ LOCKWOOD around in a while. theBENJAMIN WADSWORTH lookalike has been known to be (+) INTUITIVE & (+) INSIGHTFUL, but HE can also be (-) RECLUSIVE & (-) WITHDRAWN. The 21 year old is aSOPHOMORE majoring in MUSIC COMPOSITION. I believe they’re living in WANDERERbut I popped by earlier and no one answered the door.

WHAM BAM. Like this if you’d like to plot with Bashie Poo.

TW: Abuse

There he is, the Dean’s son and an actual legacy from one of the Lockwood founders! Aka his grandpop.

For as long as he could remember, it’s unfortunately always been him and his father. His mom died while giving birth to Bash and his Dad has never ever forgiven him for it.

Their grandparents are never really around except for when they need Bash and his father for publicity but mainly they benefit off of the school’s wages and go on extravagant vacations and what nothing to do with the Lockwood boys.

His father is abusive though he hides it well because…he’s the Dean of the school. Both physically, emotionally and verbally. Since he’s been dealing with it his entire life, he’s sort of accepted it as something that he deserves so he doesn’t really fight it. After all, if it weren’t for him his mother would still be alive. And his father isn’t hurting anyone other than him so Bash has never…really seen the problem. A complete victim’s mindset.

So due to this he thinks he’s a worthless piece of shit that won’t amount to anything and who doesn’t deserve love or happiness. As his father constantly reminds him, he’s just a burden on the world and all around him, feeding to the country’s overpopulation. He was the biggest mistake of his Dad’s life.

Even though Sebastian is a MAN now, a whole 21 years, he hasn’t gravitated away from his Dad. Again, he thinks he deserves it and he believes he needs his father. Dean Lockwood has convinced him that he wouldn’t survive a minute in the world without him. Bash is just…delusional and as much as he hates his Dad, he grossly respects and values his opinion. After all he doesn’t know better and doesn’t know anything more.

His father shielded him from a normal childhood too. He was homeschooled and had very few school friends. It wasn’t until college where he was suddenly thrust into the social scene and let’s just say he hasn’t…adjusted well.

On the frequent occasions where his father beats him to where it’s visible, Bash will usually go to a bar and elicit a fight to get more flesh wounds apparent so that he has an alibi. So basically everyone at Lockwood just thinks he’s a drunken troublemaker who gets into a shit ton of fights. Which like…isn’t wrong. He is drunk or high 99% of the time and he’s getting into fights.

At least when he gets hit, he feels something. Whereas he’s gotten so good at numbing and shoving down any sort of feelings. Shout out to liquor!

He’s always loved music, it’s his sole happy place and when his fingers are gracing that of a piano it’s like…he’s transported away from the bullshit. As lame as it sounds, he feels like his piano is his only and last connection to his Mom. She used to play and when he plays, he feels like he’s playing for her and to her like…spiritually. He can feel her when he’s writing, composing and playing. She gives him the music and he puts it to paper.

Also gay af.

ALSO DO NOT CALL HIM SEBASTIAN. it’s a massive fucking trigger for him! it’s what his dad always calls him before he’s about to beat the shit out of him. i mean you can but he won’t react great.

PERSONALITY WISE:

He’s a sarcastic asshole who tries to act all tough but who is severely craving human intimacy and companionship. When people start to get close and he starts to trust them, he panics, literal panic attacks that cause him to just snap and do everything he can to push that person FAR away and out of his life. He’s really smart but he doesn’t think so which means he doesn’t apply himself. Doesn’t really trust anyone. Will party and sometimes when he’s really high he’ll like…relax and cut loose and be real with people but then the next day he’ll deny it ever happened.

PLOTS:

In simple terms: FWB, Exes that he probably cheated on or pushed away, Hook ups, Friends, Study buddies, party buddies, smoking buddies, reckless shithead buddies etc.

MORE DETAILED PLOTS:

ROMANTIC/PHYSICAL:

[ current | fwb ] muse a and muse b met through mutual friends and quickly hit it off as friends. offhandedly one day, muse a mentioned something one day that muse b quickly turned sexual. they locked eyes and the next minute they were in a room, locked away, undressing each other. after exiting the room, the two agreed that it would never happen again…until a few days later, when it did. they keep saying they won’t come back for more.

[ current | just do it already ] muse a and muse b have been in love with each other for like, ever. neither of them are willing to admit it though, even to themselves. their friends are constantly joking about it and they both wave it off – but when one isn’t looking, anyone could see the adoration in the other’s face with ease.

[ past | dating ] muse a and muse b were the kind of people that immediately rejected each other, going to other people instead. then muse a found themselves in a room with their ex and pulled muse b aside to ask them to fake being their significant other for the night. over the next few hours, their fake date became a real one and soon things progressed into a relationship.

[ previous | friends…i guess? ] muse a and muse b were friends prior to their spontaneous hook-up and their world turned upside down. dazed, they decided to start dating that moment and to their credit, tried to make it work for a few weeks. muse a finally ( and nervously ) let out that they weren’t feeling it. to their relief, muse b admitted they were feeling the same. they decided to stay friends, but now have the added “i’ve seen you naked” awkwardness.

[ previous/current | on again, off again ] muse a and muse b love each other, but their relationship is toxic so they are constantly on and off. they always get along as friends, but the second they became lovers something always changes. they care a lot about each other, but something always goes awry.

[ your choice | hook up ] muse a recently broke up with their significant other, and in their post-breakup state got some revenge by hooking up with their ex’s best friend, muse b. neither expected the night to be so…memorable. your choice on what they do about it.

PLATONIC:

[ positive | two way street ] muse a and muse b frequent the same coffee shop and often made casual hellos to each other until the coffee shop raised their prices. muse a went to order their usual drink and lifted their eyes in surprise at the new price, hand helplessly prepared to hand over exact change. muse b quickly swooped in and saved the day, buying both of their coffees. next time they were both in the shop, muse a paid for muse b’s drink. they flip who pays each time as some sort of game now, but they’ve only had minor conversation as one or the other always seems to be in a rush.

[ positive | friends ] when muse a moved in, they didn’t expect to see muse b climbing up/standing on the fire escape right outside their living room window. they went to confront muse b and scared them, making both fear for the life of muse b for a moment. apologetic, muse a invited muse b in and the two connected almost immediately. ( muse b may or may not have explained their presence on the fire escape during this conversation // reason could have been that they knew who lived in muse a’s apartment before but didn’t know that they moved )

[ current | platonic or romantic ] *tw: alcohol. muse a and muse b met at a bar. throughout the night, muse b got more and more inebriated. being the good ( or bad ) samaritan they are, muse a decides to take muse b back to their house before they end up on the floor. when they arrive at muse a’s building/house, muse b ( loudly ) asks muse a how the heck ! muse a knew where they lived. turns out – they live a mere few floors/doors/houses away from each other.

[ current | platonic ] muse a is an extrovert – so much so that when muse b started moving in, they didn’t even wait for the moving truck to pull away before introducing themselves. in fact, muse a even started helping unload the truck without being asked. ( BONUS: muse b was super grateful for the help and their relationship is great // muse b is Grumpy™ and was annoyed that muse a started helping without asking and their relationship is tense. )

[teddyadelberg]

[ giancarlo commare, twenty-one, cis-male, he/him ] ━ hey, I just saw [ sebastian 'bash' monroe ] walking down the streets of crownsville. they’ve lived in town for [ twenty-one years ], and you can catch them around town working as a [ student ]. I hear they’re known to be [ passionate & talented ] and [ reckless & impulsive ]. if asked, they would say their aesthetic would be [ fingers that grace the keys of a piano, bruised knuckles, reckless antics ]

TW: Abuse

FINALLY POSTING an intro for my dude. I’m gonna try to get one up for Hadley later but LIKE THIS IF YOU’D LIKE TO PLOT and I’ll message you.

For as long as he could remember, it’s unfortunately always been him and his father. His mom died while giving birth to Bash and his Dad has never ever forgiven him for it. 

His father is abusive though he hides it well because…he’s the town’s most critically acclaimed lawyer. Both physically, emotionally and verbally. Since he’s been dealing with it his entire life, he’s sort of accepted it as something that he deserves so he doesn’t really fight it. After all, if it weren’t for him his mother would still be alive. And his father isn’t hurting anyone other than him so Bash has never…really seen the problem. A complete victim’s mindset.

So due to this he thinks he’s a worthless piece of shit that won’t amount to anything and who doesn’t deserve love or happiness. As his father constantly reminds him, he’s just a burden on the world and all around him, feeding to the country’s overpopulation. He was the biggest mistake of his Dad’s life.

Even though Sebastian is a MAN now, a whole 21 years, he hasn’t gravitated away from his Dad. Again, he thinks he deserves it and he believes he needs his father. He has convinced him that he wouldn’t survive a minute in the world without him. Bash is just…delusional and as much as he hates his Dad, he grossly respects and values his opinion. After all he doesn’t know better and doesn’t know anything more.

His father shielded him from a normal childhood too. He was homeschooled and had very few school friends. It wasn’t until college where he was suddenly thrust into the social scene and let’s just say he hasn’t…adjusted well.

On the frequent occasions where his father beats him to where it’s visible, Bash will usually go to a bar and elicit a fight to get more flesh wounds apparent so that he has an alibi. So basically everyone in Crownsville just thinks he’s a drunken troublemaker who gets into a shit ton of fights. Which like…isn’t wrong. He is drunk or high 99% of the time and he’s getting into fights.

BUT IDK maybe people in town definitely suspect and he’s not as good at hiding it as he thinks...

At least when he gets hit, he feels something. Whereas he’s gotten so good at numbing and shoving down any sort of feelings. Shout out to liquor!

He’s always loved music, it’s his sole happy place and when his fingers are gracing that of a piano it’s like…he’s transported away from the bullshit. As lame as it sounds, he feels like his piano is his only and last connection to his Mom. She used to play and when he plays, he feels like he’s playing for her and to her like…spiritually. He can feel her when he’s writing, composing and playing. She gives him the music and he puts it to paper.

Also gay af.

ALSO DO NOT CALL HIM SEBASTIAN. it’s a massive fucking trigger for him! it’s what his dad always calls him before he’s about to beat the shit out of him. i mean you can but he won’t react great.

PERSONALITY WISE:

He’s a sarcastic asshole who tries to act all tough but who is severely craving human intimacy and companionship. When people start to get close and he starts to trust them, he panics, literal panic attacks that cause him to just snap and do everything he can to push that person FAR away and out of his life. He’s really smart but he doesn’t think so which means he doesn’t apply himself. Doesn’t really trust anyone. Will party and sometimes when he’s really high he’ll like…relax and cut loose and be real with people but then the next day he’ll deny it ever happened.

PLOTS:

In simple terms: FWB, Exes that he probably cheated on or pushed away, Someone that maybe knows his Dad is a creep and is protective, offers him a safe haven, Hook ups, Friends, Study buddies, party buddies, smoking buddies, reckless shithead buddies etc.

MORE DETAILED PLOTS:

ROMANTIC/PHYSICAL:

[ current | fwb ] muse a and muse b met through mutual friends and quickly hit it off as friends. offhandedly one day, muse a mentioned something one day that muse b quickly turned sexual. they locked eyes and the next minute they were in a room, locked away, undressing each other. after exiting the room, the two agreed that it would never happen again…until a few days later, when it did. they keep saying they won’t come back for more.

[ current | just do it already ] muse a and muse b have been in love with each other for like, ever. neither of them are willing to admit it though, even to themselves. their friends are constantly joking about it and they both wave it off – but when one isn’t looking, anyone could see the adoration in the other’s face with ease.

[ past | dating ] muse a and muse b were the kind of people that immediately rejected each other, going to other people instead. then muse a found themselves in a room with their ex and pulled muse b aside to ask them to fake being their significant other for the night. over the next few hours, their fake date became a real one and soon things progressed into a relationship.

[ previous | friends…i guess? ] muse a and muse b were friends prior to their spontaneous hook-up and their world turned upside down. dazed, they decided to start dating that moment and to their credit, tried to make it work for a few weeks. muse a finally ( and nervously ) let out that they weren’t feeling it. to their relief, muse b admitted they were feeling the same. they decided to stay friends, but now have the added “i’ve seen you naked” awkwardness.

[ previous/current | on again, off again ] muse a and muse b love each other, but their relationship is toxic so they are constantly on and off. they always get along as friends, but the second they became lovers something always changes. they care a lot about each other, but something always goes awry.

[ your choice | hook up ] muse a recently broke up with their significant other, and in their post-breakup state got some revenge by hooking up with their ex’s best friend, muse b. neither expected the night to be so…memorable. your choice on what they do about it.

PLATONIC:

[ positive | two way street ] muse a and muse b frequent the same coffee shop and often made casual hellos to each other until the coffee shop raised their prices. muse a went to order their usual drink and lifted their eyes in surprise at the new price, hand helplessly prepared to hand over exact change. muse b quickly swooped in and saved the day, buying both of their coffees. next time they were both in the shop, muse a paid for muse b’s drink. they flip who pays each time as some sort of game now, but they’ve only had minor conversation as one or the other always seems to be in a rush.

[ positive | friends ] when muse a moved in, they didn’t expect to see muse b climbing up/standing on the fire escape right outside their living room window. they went to confront muse b and scared them, making both fear for the life of muse b for a moment. apologetic, muse a invited muse b in and the two connected almost immediately. ( muse b may or may not have explained their presence on the fire escape during this conversation // reason could have been that they knew who lived in muse a’s apartment before but didn’t know that they moved )

[ current | platonic or romantic ] *tw: alcohol. muse a and muse b met at a bar. throughout the night, muse b got more and more inebriated. being the good ( or bad ) samaritan they are, muse a decides to take muse b back to their house before they end up on the floor. when they arrive at muse a’s building/house, muse b ( loudly ) asks muse a how the heck ! muse a knew where they lived. turns out – they live a mere few floors/doors/houses away from each other.

[ current | platonic ] muse a is an extrovert – so much so that when muse b started moving in, they didn’t even wait for the moving truck to pull away before introducing themselves. in fact, muse a even started helping unload the truck without being asked. ( BONUS: muse b was super grateful for the help and their relationship is great // muse b is Grumpy™ and was annoyed that muse a started helping without asking and their relationship is tense. )