#how the fuck did i work in silence in high school i need multiple sources of sensory input

[camellia-thea]

you really don't want to know how many tabs i have open rn.

[dynyamight]

Had some thots c: wanted to share

Izuku is in a unfulfilling marriage. His husband is waaay too work obsessed and their intimate life? It's either non existent or is not enough to make him feel satisfied. He should have been happy. It is not like his husband didn't love him,or that he didn't have any love for him back,or that they had money issues... but it was all really fucking boring. That,until Izuku by accident bumps into his childhood friend and former crush: Katsuki. They began talking,a lot. Texting almost everyday. Sometimes meeting up for coffee. His husband doesn't know any of this. He learns about Katsuki's job and catches up to him on their families and nerdy hobbies. Izuku's conscience is heavy with guilt for how he finds himself falling for Katsuki just like he did through their childhood to high school to when they went their separate ways,and how his husband has no idea about it. And if that wasn't enough? Katsuki was his husband's boss. That was awkward.

Izuku tried to end things. He really did. It hurt,but he couldn't keep hiding from his husband any longer... even if his and Katsuki's feelings were mutual. But that quickly proved to be useless when one night, his husband stayed on work later than usual,and someone knocked on the door. His heart almost pulled out of his chest when he saw Katsuki at his door.

There was 0 resistance. Katsuki and him had a brief screaming match with their feelings laid all out and when things became unbearable he took Izuku. Right then and there. It was rough. It was sweet. It was everthing Izuku was craving. They couldn't even care if Izuku's husband came in. But that sure was annoying when he did...

aaaah, so, this is a very long idea thought !! i would have loved to write a small fanfic snippet, but this deserves a whole multi-chapter !!

so instead, here’s some more thots ;)

- Bakugou works in a hero agency/work office setting, his boss being Midoriya’s husband, but he has no idea. He just finds the guy rather boring & shit, with demanding better times & numbers. And, if this is a No Quirk universe, then it’s a finance records office. Regardless, it’s a job that Bakugou excels in, but he doesn’t care about his boss.

- He knows the boss has a husband, from the whispers around the work place. But, he’s just more surprised the guy’s married. A boring, shit man probably with a boring shit spouse.

- Midoriya comes back into his life when he walks into the office, hoping to surprise his husband with a coffee run. Alas, he bumps into Bakugou instead, with his husband in a meeting.

- Bakugou initially feels uncomfortable, as well as Midoriya. An awkward air laid thick; they hadn’t kept in contact for years, despite being childhood friends. Though, for Midoriya, it’s even more awkward, having to face his very first crush. Something he always felt guilty about, while friends.

- Fortunately, they start seeing each other more often, after the first bump. Midoriya often visits the office, coffee and lunches for his husband. And, he seems to always appear during Bakugou’s lunch breaks. They start with small talk, but it slowly morphs into fun conversation.

- Bakugou believes Midoriya is an errand boy of sorts for his boss, and never thinks to ask about their relationship. He just assumes they were two good friends, who Midoriya willingly helps out. And, whenever Bakugou shits on his boss, complaining, he brushes off Midoriya’s silence to his refusal to bully anyone.

- In reality, on Midoriya’s side, things get a little complicated. He feels he should mention he’s married, taken, & obviously the husband of the boss. But, each time he’s with Bakugou, the thought flies out; his head filled with only their conversations. And, right when the time is right, Midoriya chickens out, unable to admit his truth.

- At first, when he takes off his wedding band to meet Bakugou, it feels foreign, weird. He feels terrible when he comes home, hurriedly rushing to put it back on. But, after more and more times he meets Bakugou, the more times he takes it off. And each time, it slowly feels better.

- However, his friends worry that he shouldn’t continue his relations with Bakugou. They mention cheating, and Midoriya denies it. He’s not cheating. Right?

- Bakugou’s friends insist that he’s totally crushing hard on Midoriya; they keep messaging each other every day, and they are now going out together, outside the workplace. Bakugou refuses at first, simply saying it’s all just catching up. Catching up on the years. Not catching feelings.

- Yet, they both do.

- In his wilted, slowly toxic relationship with his dismissive husband, Midoriya relies on Bakugou’s shoulders. He listens all Midoriya’s vents, rants, and tears of feeling unwanted, and always offers the emotional support he has yearned from his husband. Interlaced with his usual curses & vulgar language, Bakugou speaks sense to him, succeeding in making Midoriya feel appreciated.

- And, in his completely dead love life, late night hookups littering it, Bakugou finds himself deeply caring for Midoriya. More than just a one night stand; Bakugou could see Midoriya as something more. His gentle comfort he offers, his bright aura that fills his heart, and the kind soul he continues to give to Bakugou, leaves him falling.

- Bakugou does try to insinuate multiple date proposals, feeling confident each time. It feels reciprocated. It feels genuine. As if, maybe, perhaps, Midoriya likes him. But, he’s gently turned down, with Midoriya using a fake busy day to excuse himself, every time.

- It’s then that Midoriya realizes that none of this is okay. He has a husband; someone who he promised to be with till the end of his days. And, as much as he wanted Bakugou, the man was nothing more than a temptation. Right?

- His husband finds out of all the phone calls and meet ups his employee has done with Midoriya. After his confrontation, he listens to Midoriya’s tearful confession, admitting to his emotional cheating.

- However, his husband gives him an out; if it didn’t mean anything, he will forgive Midoriya. If it did, Midoriya will leave, tonight.

- Bakugou meant everything to Midoriya. He was more than anything his husband ever amounted in their marriage. He was the man that Midoriya would want to see the rest of his life with.

- Midoriya lies. In self doubt & fear of being on his own, the divorce process overwhelming him and the reactions of his family and friends hearing about it all, he sticks with his husband.

- Besides, his entire life was surrounded, built around his husband. Leaving his husband meant losing his house, his car, his worth in society, his source of affection and love. It was as if leaving his husband meant losing everything.

- He is told to never speak to Bakugou again; his husband wants to fire him, but Midoriya begs for Bakugou to be unharmed. It had nothing to do with work, and so it would simply be too cruel. Hence, his promise to stay away.

- After dead silence from Midoriya, Bakugou finds out from his coworkers that Midoriya was the husband of his boss. It feels like an out of body experience, now with everything making sense. The constant meet ups at the office building. The date rejections. Midoriya was a married man. Who simply could never be Bakugou’s. He had to give up.

- But then, everything becomes infuriating. As the days go by, Bakugou grows upset; Midoriya deserves better. All the tears, the rants, and the self loathing was all caused by his neglectful, boring ass husband, who didn’t deserve someone like Midoriya. He knew he could be better. No, he is better.

- The bang at Midoriya’s door startles him, and his gut drops. He thinks his husband has come home mad, but instead it’s Bakugou, standing there. His heart lunges, wanting to hug him right there.

- Midoriya hurries to try to close the door instead, and quickly Bakugou juts his foot into the doorway. He steps into the apartment, furious. And, it’s there that he demands Midoriya to be honest.

- Honest? Midoriya’s confused.

- If he meant nothing, Bakugou would walk away; a similar ultimatum his own husband had given him. But, this time, Bakugou adds that if he does mean anything, even a sliver amount, Midoriya needs to take that chance, and walk out with him.

- They start yelling. Midoriya insists that he needs to stay in his marriage. Bakugou calls it lifeless and bullshit. Midoriya states that his husband is a good man, that doesn’t deserve a cheating man. Bakugou demands that it’s Midoriya that’s the good man, who’s worth more than his shit husband could even imagine. Midoriya swears that there is nothing he can do. Bakugou says there is something; he can walk out with him, right here, right now.

- Finally, with their heated argument reaching its highest, Midoriya confesses tearfully that it’s all so hard; wanting Bakugou, ever since he was little, only to be married and unable to explore his feelings, now.

- That’s when Bakugou takes his shaking hands, securely and firmly, and admits that while he can’t outmatch Midoriya’s lifetime crush on him, he admits he’s falling for Midoriya. And, these feeling of his are worth fighting for him. He knows he should leave, let Midoriya continue to be married peacefully. But, he can’t let go, without putting all of his efforts out there.

- Unless Midoriya was to reject him now, completely sure, Bakugou swears to continue fighting for Midoriya.

- Those words, promising absolute dedication to Midoriya and their potential, leaves Midoriya in tears. He’s been with his husband for years, and he has yet to feel worth fighting for.

- It had always felt his husband simply ignored his needs, only ever recognizing them if they were to his benefit. It was always as if his husband was just so certain Midoriya could never leave him, and hence, never felt a need to impress, surprise, or even cherish him.

- Finally, Midoriya pulls Bakugou into a hug, whispering if that’s truly how he feels. Bakugou hugs back, swearing that it was his honest truth. He wouldn’t make shit up, especially not to Deku.

- Midoriya tells him to please take care of him. Bakugou promises.

- With his husband coming home from his late night shift, he abruptly walks in on their embrace, furious. He demands Bakugou to get out, or else the police would arrive.

- Bakugou leaves, but not without Midoriya. His husband holds him back, demanding that he stays. Midoriya refuses, finally taking off his wedding band for the last time. He confesses that Bakugou did mean everything, and it was his own fears that forced him to stay.

- But now, he’s brave, and willing face the world without him. He’s brave, if Kacchan was right there with him.

[handthigh]

Soooo I may or may not have gone crazy and gone stupid and wrote a whole ass one shot fanfic of Tianshan in the office AU

ETA: this is now also available at AO3! (ETA 2: This is now a multichapter fic!)

Big thanks to the people over at Tianshan discord for taking a read and giving me the feedback. The fic follows right after this paragraph, with notes at the end of the fic.

He Tian (Work):

Little Mo, pass me a stapler (6:35pm)

Frowning at the message notification, Mo Guan Shan wordlessly takes the stapler lying on his desk and wheels his chair out of his cubicle to pass to his next door neighbour who grins upon receiving the stationery from the redhead. The reciprocity is not returned however, as Guan Shan wheels back into his cubicle to complete a report the supervisor had dumped onto him 15 minutes before the time he ends work. It is already bad enough that he is working overtime on a Friday while being the only one stuck with He Tian, the last thing he needs is for the annoying colleague to interrupt his progress.

The report turns out even more taxing than expected, further souring Guan Shan’s mood. He glanced at the time displayed on the laptop, “6:55pm”. Great, the report’s barely done and closing time sale at the nearby sandwich shop is already over. So much for a “quick task”, he scoffs bitterly at his supervisor’s words.

As if He Tian can read his mind, comes another text:

He Tian (Work):

Little Mo, are you cursing out the boss in your head again? (6:57pm)

Damn it, not another interruption. Glancing at the new message, Guan Shan cringes at the accuracy of the guess. Guilt quickly turns into irritation however, as he glares at the cubicle separating him and the culprit of these messages. This has been going on for about 3 months now, ever since he was assigned to be seated with He Tian at the corner of the office. The reason? The supervisor claims that only the short tempered Guan Shan is immune to the raven haired’s hunky looks while workers of all genders in their department are too busy admiring He Tian to work productively. Guan Shan tries to suppress his gag upon the memory.

First of all, Guan Shan does not appreciate being called short tempered. He just has little patience and a lot of irritation for mindless small talks and forced formalities, that’s all. Second of all, seriously? Of all words, hunky? While Guan Shan admits that He Tian is a looker because after all, he has eyes; but that is certainly an exaggeration. Sure, He Tian has the physique and face for the magazine covers, but he’s not that good looking. Especially not when he assigns Guan Shan that stupid nickname and constantly texts him for no justifiable reasons despite already repeating many times that he only wants to reserve the texting to a minimum and keep it strictly to work matters.

Wait, what the fuck? Why is he thinking about him again? Ugh, this is why he emphasises on keeping social interactions to a minimum! The report and the constant texting must have really gotten to him, because the next thing he knew, Guan Shan picks up his phone and types at his source of annoyance.

Me:

Yes, genius. Since you’re so smart and volunteered to OT with me, why don’t you make yourself useful and help me out with the report then you chicken dick! (7:05pm)

Normally Guan Shan tries to keep his temper in check, wanting to believe he is no longer the moody middle school boy that he was. Besides, this is the first job he managed to get right after graduating university 6 months ago, just in time before the recession. Thus, he is not trying to screw up an opportunity just because he got involved in some petty office drama. However, the combination of working overtime, growing hunger and unnecessary buzzing of his phone followed by He Tian’s unnecessary messages is making Guan Shan throw both caution and formalities out the window. 

He is not the only one surprised by his own outburst however, as He Tian guffaws and rolls his chair out of the cubicle to meet the redhead, currently glaring at him and asking what’s so funny.

“Chicken dick? What kind of insult is that? Also, I dunno, I just thought you’d never asked me for help.” He Tian replies with a shrug and his signature grin.

He Tian is not wrong - Guan Shan seldom asks for help, believing that it’s better to be self-sufficient than to rely on someone else. Furthermore, it allows him to avoid having to keep up with forced interactions with others. But it’s getting late and the report doesn’t seem to be finishing soon, and there is someone in the office right now, might as well right?

“So are you going to help me or not?”

“Sure, anything for you Little Mo~”

“Stop calling me that! Give me your email, I’ll share the document with you on the cloud.”

So, here they are at 7:30pm, working in a shared online document together - cubicle to cubicle. Guan Shan mainly typing out the content of the report while He Tian formats, elaborates and adds any figures and charts where appropriate; explaining his rationale to the other while he works.

As Guan Shan sees the report transform before his very own eyes, he is now confronted with the thought he’s been trying to will away for 3 days, ever since he overheard the company executives discuss whether to promote He Tian. 

As much as he hates admitting it, He Tian is talented and hardworking when situations call for it. Not only is he able to easily handle the tedious formatting that is typically required of such reports, he also goes the extra mile of further perfecting any tasks assigned to him. It also helps that he has great social networking skills to accompany his equally great looks, not only charming the other coworkers around them, but also clients and other company staff alike in network events. 

Attempting to ignore the ache of admiration growing in his chest, Guan Shan wonders why is someone as good as He Tian working at an entry level job like him in a medium sized company when the latter can easily negotiate for a much higher salary in a conglomerate. What he heard about his raven haired coworker isn’t helping much with his curiosity either.

While Guan Shan prefers minding his own business, he also doesn’t live under a rock. He has heard the rumours - that He Tian had interned for various big names while he attended an Ivy League business school and graduated a valedictorian. He was also rumoured to be taking over his family’s multinational company branch in China while his older brother gets based overseas to look over their international branches. Yet somehow, here he is, working overtime in a too small cubicle with an aloof coworker who has nothing to boast for. After all, Guan Shan’s resume mainly consists of mediocre grades in a local university that is far from being a C9 League, one proper internship experience and multiple part time odd jobs to help him pay his student loans. 

He Tian has everything going for him, and yet, why? Guan Shan is so lost in his own thoughts that he does not notice an arm reaching out to his laptop and folding it down, clasping his fingers that are resting motionlessly on the keyboard.

“Ouch! What the fuck?!” Guan Shan stands up and yelps in shock, spinning around to glare at the culprit. This proves to be a mistake as he realises he is face to face with He Tian, barely an inch away. 

Suddenly, the room feels hot and all Guan Shan can hear is his heart rapidly beating in his ears as he sees a totally different expression from the latter: lips twitching up, high cheekbones raised making them even more pronounced, coupled with a pair of grey eyes sparkling and curving in childish amusement. Even though he knows that He Tian is laughing at his expense, somehow, Guan Shan could not bring himself to break eye contact, wanting to look as long as possible until he commits He Tian’s genuine smile to memory.

“Earth to Little Mo, I said I was done with the report and had emailed our supervisor, and was thinking of treating you to a sandwich as a thanks for your effort.” He Tian replies, amusement laced in his voice as he breaks the silence.

“...How do you know I like…” Guan Shan dumbly replies, still feeling overwhelmed by the close contact to even retort He Tian as he feels his face getting even hotter.

Breaking eye contact, He Tian steps to the side and fishes out his car key, hooking the key ring to his finger. As much as he finds his flustered colleague both amusing and endearing, he makes sure to give Guan Shan some space in case the other gets too stunned and passes out. “Well, who else in this office eats those except for you? So what do you say, it'll be my treat and I can drive us there.” He Tian says as he leans back on the cubicle wall, spinning the car key around.

“.... Uh… mm” Guan Shan nodded, feeling too light headed to speak properly.

“Let’s go then.” He Tian steps out of the cubicle, making his way out as he turns off the office lights.

Guan Shan’s mind is reeling as he follows He Tian from behind. Why is he suddenly reacting like this? Why did he agree to have dinner with him? Most importantly, WHY IS HE SUDDENLY HAVING SUCH THOUGHTS OF THAT ANNOYING CHICKEN DICK?

God, he hates working overtime.

Notes:

If you made it here, thanks for reading! I’ve been wanting to write a fluffier, slice of life office romance with Tianshan for quite awhile now - an AU with no mafia drama, no She Li being a creep, just coworkers dicking around and relatively normal problems here and there. I only committed after getting reminded of this official Tianshan art by Old Xian on the discord. Aside from 19 days, I also draw inspiration from a webcomic called Senpai ga Uzai, Kouhai no Hanashi. I’m a huge sucker of slow burn fluffy Tianshan where Guan Shan is initially annoyed at He Tian and slowly and reluctantly falls for him. Hehehehehehehehe *continues to laugh in fujoshi*

Not going to lie, I do feel nervous posting it. However, after seeing many Tianshan fics (they are good! don’t get me wrong) that doesn’t have a workplace AU, I thought I’d manifest it onto the internet space! Do let me know what you think, as I am considering expanding this into a multi-fic once I stop being lazy. 

[exhaustedfander]

First Comes Love: Chapter Eight

a03 link

Link to previous story in the series: When is Enough Enough?

1  / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / ?

TW for homophobia/mention of homophobic parents as well as what can be considered a brief mention to religion, but it's nothing too specific.

Remus woke suddenly. Not in a jarring way, but merely an abrupt return to consciousness, an odd thing considering he was usually such a heavy sleeper. It was a Sunday, one he’d anticipated would be spent celebrating their engagement, but alas.

He certainly hadn’t slept well, not that it seemed Logan had fared much better. His boyfriend had tossed and turned beside him all night, just a touch away, yet they hadn’t held each other. Remus blamed it on the sour taste in his mouth left from, well, everything that had happened last night.

He’d been moments away from proposing to Logan before Patton’s phone had rung and everything came crashing down. But if he was honest with himself, and he always was, things had seemed off even before then. Remus had been nervous, understandably so, but Logan had seemed upset too. He’d been spaced out and noticeably agitated, and Remus couldn’t explain it. He hadn’t had the chance to ask, either, not after what had happened to Patton and the party’s abrupt end.

Remus had known, vaguely, of the complication in Patton’s relationship with his parents. He hadn’t been Patton’s friend long, not till after the accident and Logan’s admission to their relationship when he’d been welcomed into the friend group. Those moments from mere months ago felt like they’d occurred forever ago; he felt as though he’d been friends with Patton and the others far longer than he had.

Patton could be a bit much sometimes, with his happy, peppy personality and nonstop puns as well as some of his more deep-seated black and white beliefs. But that didn’t stop Remus and Patton from getting along for the most part. Patton would laugh at some of Remus’s more inappropriate jokes if a bit uncomfortably. He’d even offered to read one of Remus’s books; Janus told him in private how it had given him nightmares and he hadn’t been sure if he should be proud of sad to have upset him. The point was, Patton was one of the kindest, most loving people Remus had ever known, and yet his parents were throwing him away like he meant nothing.

Remus could certainly relate to that sentiment.

He avoided thinking about his upbringing as much as he could, but repressing the memories did little good. To put it lightly, Remus’s parents were complete assholes. Always had been, always would be, as far as he was concerned. Remus was surprised it took into early adulthood for them to officially disown him and Roman, considering how much Remus had pushed their patience. He’d never been good at hiding things about himself, even when it was in his best interest to do so, and as such, Remus had done little to cover up his bisexuality.

Roman was the one who did pretending the best, but he supposed that was expected of an actor. Roman had multiple girlfriends throughout high school, going through the whole song and dance of it. Remus had simply never had the energy for the charade. He didn’t blame Roman for doing it; their parents were brutal, desperate to push “salvation” upon them, doing everything their power to raise the sons they wanted. It was tough, looking back on those instances when Roman was the only other person he had, and even then, their relationship was in pretty rough shape. It wasn’t now, though. Sometimes he forgot how good things were, that it wasn’t some kind of idealistic dream.

It had taken Remus nearly dying for a resolution to form between the brothers. That hurt to remember. He didn’t put blame on Roman for the way things had been, at least not anymore. It was both of their faults, and what mattered was the change they’d undergone. Even if they continued to bicker fairly frequently, the twins made a good team.

Remus hadn’t tried to make bargains with his parents. From a fairly early age, he’d known that someday they simply wouldn’t be in his life. That was an incredibly heart-wrenching conclusion for a child to come to, and sometimes he wondered how long Roman had known the same thing. Roman came out after Remus did, claiming offhandedly that Remus had inspired the courage, and that, it seemed, had been the final straw. There was no more respect left in their hearts, no more love. They were disowned shortly after, only in contact with a handful of relatives after the explosive outcome.

So, to think of how hard Patton had fought to keep his folks in his life, how he’d sacrificed so much for nothing; well, it just broke Remus’s heart in two.

Remus sighed, turning over in bed to see Logan blinking awake. Some strange discomfort swelled in him.

“Morning, Dragonfly. How’d you sleep?” He knew the answer wasn’t going to be good, considering the circles under Logan’s eyes as well as how much he’d tossed and turned last night. Logan scrubbed a hand over his face before sitting up and sliding his glasses over his face.

“Poorly,” he said, voice bitter, “Last night certainly was…” He trailed off.

“An utter fucking disaster?” Remus supplied. Logan hummed in response.

“Yes, that. I feel horrible for Patton. I can’t imagine a parent –.” Logan cut himself off, seeming to suddenly remember Remus’s backstory. “I apologize, I – I didn’t mean to –.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Remus said reassuringly, despite how much everything didn’t feel okay, “My parents are dicks. It’s crazy to think about any parent doing that. It’s an expected reaction of you to wonder how a parent could do that to their kid.”

Logan was thankful enough to have been graced with incredibly accepting parents, ones who had never so much as questioned Logan’s identity when he came out as gay. Logan recognized that he was in a lucky position in that regard, but it didn’t stop him from slipping up from time to time and forgetting that wasn’t the case for so many less fortunate queer people.

“How do you think he’s holding up?” Logan asked, fearing what the answer might be. Remus sighed.

“I dunno. Not good, I’m sure Jan’s doing what he can to help, but not good.” Logan nodded sadly.

“That’s what I’d assumed.” Silence fell over the couple for a moment, unbearably heavy as they sat beside one another in bed before Logan spoke up again. “Is it hard?” Remus quirked an eyebrow.

“Is what hard?” Remus would’ve slipped in an inappropriate joke if he had the energy.

“Being reminded of your parents,” Logan said, somewhat hesitantly, “I would imagine that must be… difficult.” Logan was trying to handle this delicately, goddamn was he trying, but it didn’t take away from the clumsiness of his attempt. Remus appreciated it regardless.

“It can be,” Remus replied honestly after a moment of contemplation, “I try not to think about it too much, y’ know?” Logan nodded. He didn’t know, not really, but he got the gist of it. “My teenage years were a blur. I’m kinda glad I didn’t know you then, you wouldn’t have liked me back then.”

“I’m sure that isn’t –.”

“No, it’s true. I didn’t even like me back then. I was just so fucking angry all the time. Home was a nightmare and I was constantly reminded of how “sinful” I was on account of my sexuality and all that shit. Roman was good at pretending to be straight, but I guess I was just never cut out for it. I’m just me, regardless of whatever anyone else thinks.” Remus’s breath hitched as Logan pressed a hand into his own, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“I’m glad you’re you, love. You’re one of the most genuine people I’ve ever come across, that’s a very admirable trait.”

“Yeah, well, I also used to be a major asshole. More of an asshole, anyway.”

“You are by no means an asshole. As far as I’m concerned, you’re the sweetest person I know.” A smile flickered across Remus’s face. Even despite how heavy and horrible everything felt, Logan always had a way of making him feel better, at least a little bit.

“Only for you, Dragonfly. Anyway, I was an angsty teen with a fucked up home life and a strained relationship with one of the only close people in my life. I was fucking awful at making friends, but just terrific at scaring people away. I… well, I thought that’s what I was going to do with you, at first. Scare you away.” There was a rawness to Remus’s tone that he hadn’t intended, and he ducked his head, eyes trained on the bedsheets. “Jeez, sorry to be such a fucking downer. I’m just thinking about Pat, and my folks and all that shit…”

“Remus,” Logan’s voice wavered with sincerity, earning Remus’s full attention as their eyes met once more, “You never need to apologize for something like that. You don’t need to apologize for your vulnerabilities. It's okay.” Remus’s head swam with a cocktail of different emotions as he threw his arms around Logan and held on tight. There was still something tense and strange in the embrace, but Logan was solid and warm and always such a good source of comfort.

“Jesus, I love you,” he said, voice uncharacteristically soft, “You mean fucking everything to me, you know that right?”

“And you mean the same to me,” Logan responded, still embracing Remus tightly. “I love you too, dear. Immensely.”

It was no secret that both men were working on being more open and vulnerable with one another. They loved each other to the moon and back, but that didn’t hinder the fact that they both had issues with opening up and exposing their most primordial, raw emotions. Still, they were making progress together, doing everything they could to be better for each other and for themselves.

“God, I feel really fucking bad for Pat,” Remus said as they pulled away, “He’s such a sweetheart and to know what he’s going through…” Remus trailed off sadly. Then, Logan had an idea.

“What if someone visited him?” Remus raised an eyebrow.

“Do you think that’s a good idea? That might be kinda overwhelming.”

“Do you think Roman would be interested in visiting him as well?”

“I mean, I’m sure he would, but what’re you talking about?”

“You and Roman both have experience with that Patton’s going through. I feel as though you two spending some time with him would do a great deal of good.”

“And you wouldn’t want to come too?” Logan shook his head.

“It isn’t that. I love Patton, he’s an incredibly dear friend, and I’m going to do everything in my power to support him during this time. But as I said, this is a situation you and Roman know well. If the idea makes you too uncomfortable, then, by all means, I’ll drop the issue. I just feel as though you two could offer him some very good support.”

Remus considered it for a moment. Prior he thought that perhaps approaching Patton so early on might be a bad call, but now that he thought about it, Logan made a compelling case.

“You know what, yeah… yeah, I think you’re right. Let me text Jan and ask how Pat’s doing and then ask Roman if he could help out,” Remus said, standing up from bed and grabbing his phone.

Remus came back into the bedroom after a few minutes, still holding his cellphone.

“Janus said I can head over anytime.” Logan nodded, thankful that at the very least, Patton was accepting the company.

“How’s he holding up?” Remus's lip tugged into a frown.

“Not too good, from the sounds of things. Are you sure you don’t want to come too? I’m sure Patton would appreciate it.”

“I promise I’ll come next time, but for now, I want to leave this to you two. I know he’ll be in excellent hands. Can Roman attend?” Remus nodded, sitting back down on the bed.

“Yeah, he’s on his way now.” Logan pressed a kiss to Remus’s cheek, holding a hand against his face for a moment.

“Then you’d better get going.”

“You really think we’re gonna be able to help? I mean… he’s so upset, and I don’t want to make things worse…”

“Nonsense. You’ve got this, love. I know you do. You and Roman are going to do so much good.” Remus pulled Logan into a final hug, one that finally lacked the unexplainable burning sensation of all of their previous interactions since the party, and parted feeling far more hopeful then he’d started the day out with.

“Thanks, Dragonfly. Okay, I’m gonna get going.” It was still odd to think about all that Remus had thought this day would be. He’d expected celebration, overindulgence, and morning sex, not a friend dealing with so much strife. No matter, that was the situation, and Remus would have to do his best to make things better. He grabbed a granola bar and a cup of coffee on the way out, doing everything he could to cling to hopefulness.

In the past, Remus had never thought of himself as someone who was suited for comforting people, as far as he was concerned, he just wasn’t built for it. Since his time with Logan, though, Remus had come to realize that wasn’t entirely the case. The fear that he might still somehow make things worse burned in his chest, but it was alongside the hope that Logan had instilled as well as the knowledge he’d have his brother’s help. Alone, maybe Remus wouldn’t be able to brighten Patton’s spirits. But he wasn’t going to be on his own. Roman had always been good at soothing others, even at the expense of himself at times, and he was a good person to have in his corner.

There was no doubt all of this was going to continue to remind Remus and Roman of their childhood, but for now, he pushed the thought aside. What mattered now was helping Patton, and he was going to try his damndest.

=+=

[thewhumpstuff]

You and I, Me and You [6]

@badthingshappenbingo [Original characters and content for category - Flashbacks] [Warning: NSFW implications] [Teaser and Master List] [Archives of our Own] (You and I, Me and you: Chapter 7)

[<– Previous] ~ [Next –>]

Dark pillow talk. 

The freedom of her upper limbs came at the price. A few more crimson scratches against the raw, twine-irritated skin. The torment of rolling around on her knees as her back contorted awkwardly to accomplish the task within the given limitations. But success felt heavenly. Her arms snapped away from one another when the twine finally came undone. With a manic urgency, she plucked off the blindfold. The cloth wrapped around her eyes had never curtailed her breathing, but getting rid of it left her panting with relief.

The only source of illumination was soft and painfully consistent, it crawled in from under the metal door to shatter against the broken glass and to lick at her feet. That felt like a gift for now. For some time, her freed arms and restored vision tasted like a small victory. For some time, she remained still and poised, clinging to the piece of glass with a fervent hope. Then, the seconds and minutes began chafing at her resolve. Slowly but surely. The fluidity of time was not assessable. Staring at a piece of wall was not conducive to keeping track of the hours.

There was not so much as a scuffle outside. She felt forgotten. First, she dropped the glass, then she got fidgety. Two ritualistic, alternating motions. She craned her neck to flatten her cheek against the wall, right side… then left, her vision oscillating between the corner… and the dark despair of the room. And the painstaking transfer of her weight, from her knees to her haunches. This went on long enough to leave her neck and shoulder muscles begging for mercy and her leg muscles twitching with the strain.

As her resolve slowly melted, fear eagerly took its place. The exchanges with Jared had left her mind steeping in the past. It felt like a deliberate concoction. And now he had left her alone to brew. She could not fight the thoughts as they gathered and strategically battered against the flimsy walls of her brain. She followed the string of memories, brought to the surface by a slightly broken voice echoing in the room… It was her own, it sounded angelic somehow. She closed her eyes in surrender. “♩“…Am I out of my head Am I out of my mind...”♩ ~~~ ♩"…If you only knew the bad things I like…"♩ She grinned up at him as she sang along with the song he played. It was the one from the party, before they were interrupted. It sure felt appropriate. They’d consummated their relationship already, on multiple occasions, but the air today, felt differently charged. She used her elbows to slide backwards onto his bed, till her head found his pillow. He crawled over her on his elbows and knees, watching her protectively. She loved that he was concerned, but she felt the pressing need to prove that she was stronger than he thought.

His lips found the scar he had left on her neck, his tongue flicked across it, tenderly. “Bite me.” ♫…Don't think that I can explain it… ♫ He obliged, sucking her skin into his mouth, he teased it with his teeth. “Harder.” ♫…What can I say, it's complicated…♫ Curiosity and hesitance danced in his mind as his jaw tightened. A soft gasp morphed into a softer mewl. He let go. The scar had a perfect row of teeth-marks above and below it. He stared at it, it left him disconcerted. He looked at her. She looked incandescent, excited… ecstatic and bold. All the good things. As he tentatively nipped at her arm, sedulous about the force. She suddenly let out a cry of mock anguish. He snapped away from her. “Did I hur-” Her snicker, interrupted him. Something about her soft cackle sent a chill down his spine. “Of course, you did! But I liked it.” The cuffs dug into her as she stretched her arms instinctively, she felt like pulling him into an embrace. Aki made do with her legs instead, wrapping them around his hips to draw him back to her. “Fuck, Shira.” He chastised through grit teeth. It only made her laugh some more. “What? I like scaring people a little.” She beamed up at him with faux innocence. He shook his head and half-smiled, nervously stifling his unease, as he lowered himself against her again.

♫…Nothing's that bad If it feels good So you come back Like I knew you would… ♫ She nuzzled into his neck, leaving a small bite-mark of her own. She could feel his eyelashes against her shoulders, he did not even wince. Something about that left her feeling challenged. She picked another spot and bit a little harder. He closed his eyes and tensed but did not flinch. He let her finish, he even let her scan her handiwork as he propped himself on his elbows, his face looming over hers. The disquietude found words. “You like… hurting people too?” She tensed. His question sounded impassive, but she felt judged, nonetheless. “Sorry.” “No… It is ok. I’m fine.” That was not a very convincing reassurance. She gnawed at her lower lip. Feeling a certain surge of insecurities, she sought to assuage them by hoping this was a shared trait.

Her voice carried with it a note of dread, and of anticipation. “Too? Do you?” “No, not really… I mean… Do you like scaring and hurting too?” “I…” Her face was like a play. Emotions battling desires, battling her morals.

He placed his fingers on her lips and wore a brighter smile. Jared had no intentions of creating turmoil within her, not today… not after everything. They needed each other. “Shh…” She kissed his fingers, her tongue now flicking across the scar she had left. “Am I a bad person?” Depends, he thought. But ardently shook his head. He reached over to his bedside drawer. With a press of a button the collar and the cuffs clicked open. He whisked them off the bed. They found amusement in the way the fell, symbolic of their own inhibitions. They laughed. The moment her wrists were free, her hands worked on the buttons of his shirt. His hands made quick work of her little black dress with the classic ripping sound. Her motion, inspired by his urgency, left buttons scattered around them as she held the collar and tugged it apart. Fabric rustled, bared passion and bared bodies followed. - Later that night, the empty cups of tea sat huddled on the bedside drawer. The silence between them embraced a very different song. ♫…Love of mine, someday you will die… ♫ It crooned the spooning couple; she sang along in a low octave. He joined in. They could feel the vibrations through the contact between his chest and her back. ♩…“But I'll be close behind and I'll follow you into the dark”… ♩ “Will you?” Her fingers were entwined with his, she gave a little squeeze to emphasize her question, which followed the song. Will you, follow me into the dark?. “I’ll be there before you, so you’ll be the one following!” He chided, pulling her closer. They breathed in sync and inhaled deeply. Satisfied sighs mingled. She elbowed him gently, with a small click of her tongue. “Always the hero.”

Jared wasn’t the insecure sort, but revelations today had left him perturbed and he knew she would eventually have to go away. So, today he too, wanted to ask. “Will you?” She pulled her hair to the side as she twisted to look at him. She didn't think of darkness as death. She saw it something to explore and something to challenge. And something that Jared had already encountered and won against. “I kinda am, already… Aren’t I? But my darkness, my turn!” He much rather wished that she could follow him into the light. Not that he had luck finding light. He did find it in her, and now she was insistently trying to test it. Test her own light, till that darkness won out. She was still basking in her chance at glory. There was nothing that could keep her mind away from that future for too long. He wanted nothing more than to bury it. Jared’s fingers idle shapes on her back, doodling his way out of the instinct to ask her to not take up the offer, again. She turned to face him completely, his hand lay across her, with a heavy laziness.

Akira’s curious eyes pinned him with an odd question. “How the hell do you have such a high tolerance, by the way?” She had always secretly admired his endurance; it’d seem they weren’t exaggerating when there was talk of it among the BioHackers. It was thrown around as an analogy: ‘It is very difficult to endure this procedure… Unless you’re Jared or something.’ ♫…Catholic school as vicious as Roman rule I got my knuckles bruised by a lady in black… ♫ He was amused by the lyrics that underpinned her question. “Practice.” There was some pride in his monosyllabic response, but it was wrapped in resigned discomfort.

He believed it to be among the biggest distinguishing factors between them… Their cumulative experiences. “Like… in The System and stuff?’’ Her macabre fascination with suffering, even his, left him a little speechless. He could tell from the falter in her whisper, that she was terrified of broaching the territories he avoided with a vehemence. And yet she did it anyway. He swallowed and stayed patient. “Yes.” ♫…And I held my tongue as she told me, Son, fear is the heart of love…♫ “Was that it?” She was sheepish in her ask and knew it wasn’t and he wasn’t ready to elaborate. It did lead him to a realization. His compromise with pain and darkness, started young and it happened circumstantially. Then things spiralled and he was forced to befriend suffering as it became a blanket for his cause. It was a relationship that bore the test of time and in some way, became his one sole companion. Life happened and he survived. Until now. That was the other pressing distinction between them. She… sought this darkness. One way or another. She was jumping into an inferno, having never played with the flicker of a candle flame. That would mean she’d have no coping mechanisms in place to deal with the monster in front of her. There was no leashing that suffering once it found her, and it inevitably would if she kept looking for it. It would wrest all the control and snatch away the ground she stood on. That is what he believed anyway. Should he then provide the flickering flame and the hearth? Is that what she wanted, is that what drew her to him? Could he teach her what she needed to learn if she were so set on this path?

“Never mind…” Akira whispered when her question was met with a pressing silence. She turned away again and closed her eyes. “What?” He asked absently, his thoughts had consumed him so entirely, he forgot the question they were borne out of. He recalled the conversation quickly enough, without needing another prompt. “You know there is more… Shira” He sounded stilted.

♫…Soles of your shoes are Are all worn down… ♫ She half-sung and half-hummed along with the song as it tapered to its end. She stretched and curled her toes, twisting to fit in the mould he made… Stolen covers, shared skin. She let her better judgement win and did not push the issue, unless he felt like divulging more himself. He did not. ♫…The time for sleep is now…♫ “But it’s all in the past now. You should get some rest, ‘Jared didn’t let me sleep’ won’t be an acceptable excuse to slip at training.”

~~~

♩…But it's n-nothing to cry about…♩” With the memories, her songs followed too. Holding notes while holding herself up was hard, but it was worth the effort as the trill hung poignantly in the room. The words only drew the tears that clung to her lashes, she ensured they didn’t fall and streak the grime her cheeks had collected off the walls.

There was a constant tug of impatience as he paced and waited for it to be long enough. A part of Jared was eager to get back. He couldn’t put a finger on why. What was he expecting to really resolve now? Time needed to soften her, so he could get on with business. This wasn’t something he’d struggled with before; this was the easiest part of interrogations he’d conducted in the past. But then, she wasn’t just any captive. Maybe it was time he came to terms with that. Objectivity would be harder to use as an anchor. But perhaps, that was his edge.

So, he fell prey to his impatience. Shuffling back to her holding cell. He heard her voice and it made him stop in his track. It was not just any song either… It had a firm spot in their playlist. His hand teetered over the latch as he waited. ♩“….'Cause we'll hold each other s-soon”…♩ It was sung slower than the original, giving it a beautifully eerie tone. Something rattled behind her. She fell silent and snatched the piece of glass off the floor. The door creaked open, he blocked most of the the light that pooled in, the bit that leaked past acted like an ambient spotlight on Akira. He remained by the threshold. “You know that song is special, by all means do finish…” She held the piece tightly enough to peel the scab and freshen the cut. Her breath hitched as she quickly blinked away the tears. No, I can’t show weakness. The lyric was too perfect, it longed to grace the moment. Who was she to stop them… “♩…I-in the blackest of rooms... ♩” [Category 2] [I’ve used ‘Bad things’ and ‘I’ll follow you into the dark’ as anchors for the post, I do not own the songs.]

[consequencesofargentdawn]

My experience as a Grim Gest member from 2017-2018

I don't necessarily want you to post this as the screenshots I have would not only eliminate my anonymity but also don't carry enough weight on their own to be really effective in showing their deplorability. However, I'm fine with you guys posting the one screenshot I linked if you want because it showcases the ridiculing of a previous member. That being said the image is from November 2017 so I don't know if you do. I moreso want to share my experience being in the Grim Gest from roughly November 2017- March 2018.

I joined their ranks because I'm incredibly fond of the undead in WoW, and for the most part had a lot of fun roleplaying with them. For all their OOC faults I do truly think that they're decent roleplayers IC. The first few months were fine. I got to know the active members and had a lot of fun, but after a while of being in the guild we got a new member who was rping a dark ranger. A lot of us really disliked him as he constantly used the "I'm a dark ranger" card to silence other guilds and members, acting like his character was more important. He constantly used anti-living godmotes in his rp, famously doing a Sylvanas banshee scream in a campaign that he said would "deafen any living who could hear it"  and as a result pissed off a lot of other horde members ic and ooc. A lot of us wanted him to tone it down, but Morsteth repeatedly defended the rp saying it was good and that he really liked the character. One day however (I forget what he did) the guy was removed from the guild as the officers persuaded Morsteth to kick him. Morsteth then decided to do a complete 180 on his opinions of him, and kept saying "I don't know what I was thinking that guy was awful" going as far as to eventually compile every cringey thing the guy had said ooc (shown below):

and posting it presumably in the vile PCU discord. I thought it was funny at the time but ultimately it was pretty much a character assassination of this guy.

Later on I noticed in their discord a lot of onesided political discussions taking place, one of which was on the topic of white privilege and black lives matter. I argued with Morsteth and co. about it for about a day and was essentially ganked over my opinion. Morsteth became pretty upset with the argument and stripped me of my roles, restricting me to typing in a "Toxic Lair" channel, telling me that he would talk to other officers and decide my fate once he was home despite having heard the "ooc is ooc and ic is ic"  meme. That night I received an apology from Morsteth telling me "Alright, basically it comes down to our personal argument and I think we both should have left it earlier, so it's not a one-sided thing so I don't really have a reason to "hate" you or ban you from the guild as you didn't do anything wrong. Just typed some mong stuff in my personal opinion." he even admitted to "blowing [the argument] out of proportions" and apologised for putting me into the lair channel. I was a bit sceptical of this and had been having a hard time irl, but eventually I said I would stick with the guild instead of leaving.

Afterwards a lot of the members were a bit quieter with me, I was ignored frequently and was feeling strange about the whole thing. During this period I became pretty depressed and started to talk to one of the high ranking but not officer members who had been in the guild for ages. He was pretty chill and offered me a lot of advice in dealing with things, and I refrained from talking about my sadness in guild chat, only speaking to this one guy on days I felt awful. Time passed as normal in the guild, but as it did I got a little more bored with WoW. Content had slowed down and my schoolwork was catching up with me so I had informed the guild that I would be more inactive as I had school stuff to deal with. I had also made the apparent mistake to gush about my excitement at the introduction of dark iron dwarves and void elves to the alliance, saying that I was going to make one. Over the next three months my sub died, and to fill gaps of boredom I played other games that I happened to own instead of wasting money on a sub I wouldn't fully use. After 3 months inactivity I was kicked which honestly is fair enough. I asked why I was removed and I was told that it was the inactivity and also because I was apparently becoming alliance in bfa despite never explicitly deciding to do that or saying I would. I explained that I wasn't intending to play alliance and that I had been busy as my exams were coming up, but Morsteth told me that I had been playing games that weren't WoW in my freetime, but in reality I'm prone to leaving the launchers open for games sometimes. I convinced him that I'd sub back in a week once my exams finished and I attended a few rp events and spoke in discord frequently.

Exactly a week after I was invited back I saw that Morsteth was insulting some guy by calling him a soyboy. I asked why he used that insult when there was little evidence linking soy with femininity or emasculation, cited a few credible sources and was met with "my brother works in chemistry and he says its uncertain if it does impact men or not". I naturally thought this defence was ridiculous and argued with him that he didn't have any credible sources, resulting in his enragement at the fact that I believed his brother wasn't knowledgeable about the chemistry of soy. I saw how the argument was going to go and decided to halt it, apologising for arguing with him and stopping the conversation, he hesitantly agreed and saw that we didn't need to argue about it. A few minutes later I spied a Morsteth is typing in the chat, and quickly typed something along the lines of "dude if this is a 3 page rebuttal to the argument that we stopped telling me about how I'm wrong I swear to god dude" and seconds after sending this he posted two paragraphs of soy information trying to disprove me. Likely consumed by rage at this point he quickly typed "ok that's it" and booted me from the guild. I pmed him saying "are you this pissed over a fucking argument? You wanted me gone a while ago, come on be honest dude" to which he replied "you dont see it yourself but ur basically an edgy teenage jerk that rly annoys people to no end while contributing nothing to the guild, so just please stay with elder scrolls online" followed up with "you are annoying dude not just to me". Then he blocked me, and I was incredibly upset. I was so annoyed that I had spent a year in this guild for it to be over because he couldn't man up and shake hands over a soy argument. In my anger, I made a video of the image with Why can't we be friends playing in the background and uploaded it to my channel, titling the video "The Grim Gest in a Nutshell". 

I was pmed later on by his lackey Seth (who I've seen on here being victimised by the guild, how ironic) who told me multiple times that I was the one in the wrong, that I was an idiot, that I was actively making the guild worse being in it and that I would never find a good guild again as I had messed up with the GG. This did nothing but piss me off further but I got over it after a long time. I left the horde as a whole and faction changed my undead to alliance, no longer wanting to play on a side populated by arguably deplorable people. I stayed in contact with one of their Officers who thought it was extreme for me to be kicked over the argument, he tried to convince Morsteth that it was a rash decision but told me that I'd probably never be invited back which I was fine with. I began rping on the alliance and managed to avoid a lot of drama in the next month before seth messaged me again.

I got a message telling me that I needed to take down my video immediately. Apparently when Morsteth tried to show another guild footage from a past pvp event he told them to search up the Grim Gest on youtube, and my video was the first to appear. I was told by Seth that if I didn't remove the video the Grim Gest alongside the other PCU guilds would mass flag every video on my channel (which I don't really care about). I told Seth that I didn't care at all, and if he wanted to flag me then he could go ahead. I messaged my officer friend who told me that Paingriever and Morsteth were attempting to compile all the dirt they had on me and make an equally defaming video despite me only posting a selfie into the discord and perhaps once or twice saying that I was depressed in discord, there was really zero dirt to find on me. I told Seth that if Morsteth wanted to talk to me he should do it himself, and got no response and remained blocked on discord by the baron. Eventually I was convinced by my officer friend that it was probably the right thing to do to move on and delete the video, but with all the utter bullshit I've seen on forums from Morsteth, alongside the COAD posts that showcase his idiotic shenanigans I felt like I had to get this off my chest. 

A final meme comes from a campaign I took part in, where some dwarves were swearing excessively IC. I almost fell off my chair when I saw several Grim Gest members saying that it was making them feel uncomfortable despite a long running meme in their discord being an emote that read "unsafe" being posted whenever someone swore, it was explained to me that they had a member who always complained that swearing made her feel unsafe, and after she left they used it sarcastically at any complaints made about swearing. 

In short; I utterly detest Morsteth and the rest of the PCU, these guilds are the reason that I don't rp undead anymore, which greatly upsets me as they remain my favorite race in the Horde. Perhaps once they mess up hard enough and are punished I might finally be able to play the race that I love, but that seems like an impossible future.

[chromatictales-blog]

I’m All You Need

               Hearing the obnoxious beeping of his alarm clock, Taylor, half asleep, slams the top of the alarm clock multiple times with considerable force in hopes of hitting the snooze button. After the tenth time, Taylor just gave up and reluctantly got up out of bed. Murmuring curse words under his breath, Taylor slowly opens his eyes, looks at the clock and realizes it’s 6 o’clock in the morning.

              “It’s too early for this crap.” Taylor says with an annoyed tone.

              He looks around and realizes that his room is an absolute mess. There are boxers and old undershirts hanging from his desk chair, video games disks and cases littering the floors, and mounds of papers and school textbooks all scattered about on the desk. Taylor gives his whole room a massive look of distaste while he walks out with only a t-shirt and underwear. Upon entering the bathroom, Taylor then carries out his normal morning routine of brushing his teeth, washing his face, and bathing. Taylor gets dressed and gets all of his school supplies together in his backpack. He walks into the kitchen and only sees his cat Damien casually laying on the window sill staring out into the snow-covered backyard with large angular trees. Taylor quickly makes himself a breakfast of Honey-Nut Cheerios cereal and a granola bar while watching some early morning cartoons. Still somewhat half asleep, Taylor realizes that it’s six forty-five and that he needs to catch the bus to high school. He then goes to the door, tries to pet Damien but gets hissed at, and then goes out the door to catch the bus.

              Upon leaving the bus, Taylor walks along the heavily cracked and rundown sidewalk towards the school building which has a large sign that reads “Jonathan Stewart Memorial High School.” As Taylor reaches the front entrance of the school, he takes a deep breath and hesitantly walks in. Taylor was then greeted with hallways filled with students, teachers, and custodial workers. As he walked through the hallways, Taylor kept getting shoved and knocked back by incoming students. One of the students was really big and burly, large enough to match an oncoming car, and they ran into Taylor and knocked him down hard enough that he fell onto his back and his school supplies had dispersed all over the hallway floor. The burly student just kept walking, not noticing that he had knocked Taylor down. No one had offered to help him back up and assist him with his supplies, until a young girl stopped and helped Taylor out while having a concerned look on her face. Taylor looked up and saw that this medium-sized and thin girl was his good friend Lily.

              “You really are a clutz aren’t ya?” Lily announced with cheery voice.

              “Hehe, I guess I am. Thanks Lil.” said Taylor as if defeated.

              “You look like a mess! Are you okay?” Lily said with a concerned demeanor while intensely grabbing Taylor’s shoulder and shaking him back and forth.

              “I’m fine Lily. No need to worry about me.”

              “No, I will worry! Have you been up late again?” Taylor darts his eyes around trying to find something to give him an excuse to change the topic, but soon gives up on trying as soon as he sees Lily’s piercing gaze.

              Taylor sighs and explains, “I had a lot of work to do last night. Two essays that I had only two days to do, studying for the big exam in calculus that we both have today, and doing the English homework that Mrs. Dale gave me an extension for.”

              All Lily gave was a sympathetic smile and a pat on Taylor’s head of fluffy hair. They both went off to their first period classes and went about a relatively casual day up until their sixth period calculus class. One scantron was on every desk in the room and the teacher, Mr. Ehrhardt, stood in front of the class writing some calculus related topics onto the blackboard. Taylor and Lily sat on opposite ends of the class, and before the test started, Lily and Taylor exchanged glances. Lily gave Taylor an energetic thumbs up and then the test had begun.

               As the testing went on, Taylor was going through the test slow and steady. Unfortunately, Taylor’s face slowly went from focused to a face of dread as the questions got harder and harder. His hand was trembling more and more with each answer he bubbled in, and an overwhelming sense of anxiety started to befall him. Then, out of nowhere, Taylor heard an echoing voice throughout the classroom:

              “Do you really think you’re going to do well? You’re wasting your time, why do you even bother?” Taylor freezes up upon hearing these words, and he then looks around to see who said that. To his surprise, everyone was looking at their tests and no one looks like they were trying to talk to him. Taylor tries to focus again on his test, but is then promptly interrupted with that same echoing sound.

              “Seriously, I don’t know what makes you want to keep going. You’re not that bright and you’re just exhausted. Quit while you can!”

              Taylor looked up and around the room in panic and saw no one speaking to him. He got up out of his seat and told Mr. Ehrhardt that someone was talking during the test, but he told Taylor that nobody was talking. Taylor went back to his seat and just concluded that he was probably just sleep deprived and was hearing things. He resumed with the test, but he kept constantly hearing that same echoing voice over and over again and all it had were the same kind of comments as before. The test soon became too overwhelming for Taylor and he didn’t know what he was doing anymore. Time was up and everyone handed in their exams, and Taylor handed his in with a blank yet defeated face.

              Taylor thought to himself, “I failed, I failed, fuck I definitely failed, stupid me! All of that studying for absolutely fucking nothing.”

              Lily came to talk to Taylor, but Taylor had a sullen expression on him and his mind was in another world, one that could not be disturbed. Lily just walked along side Taylor to their next class and their classes after that for without exchanging a single word.

              The school day came to a close and then Taylor and Lily parted ways and onto their respective bus. Lily sent some motivational messages over the phone to Taylor while on the bus, but Taylor could not shake the feeling of dread and did not answer back to her.

              “You know she really doesn’t care about you right? It’s all just pity and she’s not really your friend.” the voice echoes.Taylor looks around again for the source of that voice but to no avail.

              Taylor returns home and oddly enough, Damien comes and rubs himself up against Taylor’s leg. Taylor comes to the living room where he sees his father sitting on the couch watching the sports channel where they are playing football. He’s wearing his work uniform and sitting next to him is his current girlfriend who he has been seeing for about two months. Without stopping to say hello, Taylor tries to walk straight up to his room until his father stops him.

               “Hey Ty, how was school today?” His father asked with curiosity.

               “Fine.” Said Taylor abruptly.

             “Everything okay champ? Come here and sit down, I wanna talk to you.”

              “I don’t want to. Not when she is here.”

              “What has she done wrong?”

              “I just don’t feel comfortable with her, dad.”

              Before his father could say something else, Taylor walks quickly towards his room and locks the door behind him. Damien followed Taylor to his room and then perched himself onto Taylor’s bed. Taylor dropped his bags, slowly walked to his desk, wiped all of his papers and books off his desk onto the floor, sat down, and then rested his head on the table facing downwards. Minutes have past and Taylor could hear nothing but his own thoughts racing, until a voice abruptly ended the silence. This time the voice was not an echo.

              “Look at you, what a mess. Are you always like this? How weak are you?”

              Taylor is startled and he slowly turns around until he sees a dark figure standing right behind him. He jumps with fear and stays completely still as if paralyzed while looking at this strange person’s feet. The dark figure backs up with its tall and slender body towards the bed. Its long tendrils grip the sides of the bed frame while Damien sits there seemingly unaware. Taylor looks up, confused and shaking, and looks at the figure’s face. Its face is devoid of any expression, lifeless and vapid white eyes, and body completely pitch black.

              “W-who are you?” asked Taylor, trembling.

              The figure did not respond. It looked at Taylor, put on a twisted smile, and slowly got up and walked towards him. Once the figure reached him, it bent down, wrapped its arms around Taylor, and gave him an unsettling, yet comfortable, hug. The figure then spoke and said:

              “Do not worry, I’m all you need.”

So to give a little anecdote as to the story of why I wrote this piece, I wrote this during my first semester at college in a writing class that I was required to take. Our professor gave us an opportunity for extra credit in class, so I jumped on it as soon as possible. The purpose of the extra credit was to allow students in the class to demonstrate the techniques we learned in class. Others did presentations and personal stories in front of the class, but I chose to make my own little short story and read it in front of class. Ever since then, I have had a growing interest in writing and it’s what compelled me to make this world of mine. I see that I didn’t particularly start this whole thing on a bright note, but this piece touches on themes that are important to me. Anyways, see ya later!

Sincerely,

    Chromatic~ ♥

Tags: @writersontumbl-r

[generalthirstclub]

I Don't Need Your Help (squip x reader; part 1 of ??)

yo yo yo hey so i finally gave into my desire to write a fic for the first time in fifteen million years and DAMN IT ALL TO HELL it’s about a FUCKING COMPUTER

kind of experimenting with 1st person a little?? idk if I feel like it’s a little choppy or something i might fix it later because im planning to have multiple parts to this so i have something to do while procrastinating on homework ew

also the reader’s gender isn’t mentioned in this part (i don’t think?? i kind of proofread this but it was at like 2 am so i don’t even trust myself) but im probably going to use female pronouns when I need to- i promise it’s not to offend anyone I just find it easier to write fics like this with a singular gender but i could try to change that if needed

last thing;; this fic kind of loosely follows the plot of BMC?? very very loosely,, like some dates might change or times or things, i don’t really know at this point but it might not even follow the story at all idk idk but still

here is an anon throwing their sin at the wall and hoping it sticks

have this you nasty computer fuckers

——————–

He had to be joking.

A pill? A pill that held a tiny computer- that attached itself to your brain for no other purpose than to ‘help you be cool’???. It sounded asinine. But maybe I could understand. Jeremy was desperate. I didn’t blame him. High school was a battlefield; intent on destroying all traces of individuality and creativity, burying unique personalities underneath avalanches of essays and book reports.

I voted against getting one, at first.

Jeremy had Michael, right? They’d known eachother for what seemed like ages, it didn’t make any sense for him to just- want something new. Michael and I both knew Christine was important to him, that he’d do anything to impress her or to get on her radar. We just…. didn’t expect something like this. Especially something as shady (and honestly terrifying) as a tiny computer that you literally swallowed and had it attach to your brain. It was ironic. Jeremy had told us he’d heard about it through Rich- the very bully that tormented him half the time.

Of course, I didn’t know Jeremy nearly as well as Michael did. I’d only met Jeremy freshman year- I’d known Michael since the beginning of middle school at least. So it wasn’t too much of a surprise when I heard he’d went out and paid the ridiculous fee for one of the wintergreen tic tacs, but that didn’t make me any less worried.

I didn’t hear much of it the first few days. I didn’t have any classes with either of them, and the only times we’d see eachother were after school, and of course- Michael had work, and Jeremy had to get back home to finish homework most of the time. We didn’t see eachother too often, but we did have a commitment to meet up at the same coffee house every Monday morning.

I knew something was up when Michael and I were the only two who showed up the Monday morning after Jeremy had bought the stupid pill.

Something had happened. I didn’t know what- we texted him nonstop and didn’t get anything. Not even an acknowledgement for our efforts. Whether or not I believed in the 'SQUIP’ at that point was debatable. It would be quite the coincidence if Jeremy had missed the bus that morning or overslept.

Both of us got rather worried.

Michael and I made a habit after that Monday of staying behind after school, purposefully lingering by the bus stop to see if we could catch a glimpse of our now oddly-distant friend. He must’ve been getting rides from an outside source, though- he never showed.

It was almost like he’d dropped off the face of the planet, and honestly? If I hadn’t known any better myself, I would’ve thought he had. But I had friends in some of his classes, and they said he showed up, but…..

It was like he had abandoned us.

I’m sure it didn’t hurt me nearly as much as it did Michael. But it still stung- it was evident that after the second missed Monday Coffee Meeting that it was intentional. It hurt me more to see the heartbreak in Michael’s eyes when he realized it for himself, and if anything? It made me angry. Angry that Jeremy would do that to Michael. I didn’t care if he had a stupid computer in his head, telling him what to do- it’s not like it was controlling him or anything. Him being friends with us had nothing to do with his popularity, or how 'cool’ or how 'chill’ he was. It had to be a conscious decision.

And that infuriated me.

I wanted to find him. Talk to him. But I had no idea where to go- he’d abandoned all the places he used to hang out, like the food court at the mall or the field behind the school. It was ridiculous. Like he knew we were upset, like he knew what he was doing to us and didn’t care enough to even talk to us anymore.

We’d lost our friend Jeremy.

It was funny how my thought process worked after my mind began to comprehend the fact that Jeremy had made the conscious decision to opt out of our friendship- of his friendship with Michael of all people, even. I was a naturally irritated person by nature, which was my own fault, but it wouldn’t have had to go to extremes if Jeremy had just stayed with us.

I wanted to get the pill.

Not because I wanted to be 'pretty’ or 'popular’. No, I wanted to prove to Jeremy that that tiny computer in his head didn’t do a thing to separate him from us. He was lying to himself, using the excuse of the SQUIP to tell people that he was the 'new Jeremy’, that he was 'better’ and 'stronger’ now. And I intended to put him in his place.

Maybe if he came to his senses, he’d realize what he’d done to us. To Michael, at least.

Michael was against my plan from the beginning, which was predictable enough in itself. It took me weeks to get the image of Michael’s terrifed face out of my mind, and even now it still haunts me sometimes. He was scared he’d lose another dear friend. He was scared he’d be all alone in this school of savages. In this war against the very same people who he grew up with, who now made fun of him, spat on him for being different.

It took me a while, but I was able to convince him.

I had no plan of abandoning Michael. No, if anything, I wanted to be closer to him while I tried to pull Jeremy back from that dark abyss called 'popularity’. And hell, if the pill made me go insane just like Jeremy, I’d rip it out of my skull with my own two hands.

It was two weeks after Jeremy got his SQUIP that I got mine.

It was pretty painful to hork up all the cash, seeing as the weird drug-dealer-ish guy at the register didn’t accept debit for 'the pill’. About two months’ worth of earnings slapped itself down on the desk as I quietly requested the same crazy contraption that had torn one of my closest friends away from people that he had used to consider family. It would’ve been the understatement of the year to say I was scared- but at the same time confident. Maybe the pill would help me out or something in convincing Jeremy to hang out with us again. Then again, maybe the pill was a sadistic killing machine that wanted to take over the world.

Haha. Just kidding.

Still, I had no idea what I was getting into, and the moment the man led me into the back room I felt chillbumps rise on my arms. So I was actually doing this. It was ludicrous. Absolutely ridiculous- but I knew I couldn’t turn back. My six hundred dollars were in the man’s back pocket, and in seconds, a tiny gray pill in a small plastic bag was placed in my hand and I was hurriedly shooed out the door.

I moved to the food court as my stomach churned in nervousness and anticipation, the sharpie on the bag instructing to take the pill with Mountain Dew. At least it wasn’t a bad soda, I reassured myself weakly as I slowly stumbled over to the drink machine and shoved a dirty dollar bill in the slot, punching in the code for the cold drink.

I felt dizzy walking back to my seat. My senses were heightened- the cold of the can numbed my fingers, shoving its way into my thoughts as I sat down. I waited a moment or two. It could be life-changing, my next decision. I hadn’t heard of any way to get rid of the SQUIP; or at least Jeremy hadn’t mentioned anything. I did suppose I could ask Rich, but it wasn’t exactly my favorite choice…..

It all began to move in slow motion the moment I decided.

I was in a rather empty part of the food court, as not many liked to linger when all the restaurants closed down after eight. I supposed that was good for me, seeing as I didn’t want to possibly be seen as a crazy person if anyone I knew suddenly saw me talking to myself or screaming at nothing. It was for the best, I said to myself.

A part of me wondered if Jeremy had hesitated too. Did he just take it the second he got it? Was he scared? Was he worried? Upset, even? Or maybe he was happy. Excited. Because he’d finally be away from us, he’d finally have the chance to snag the 'perfect girl’. The chance to be cool. The chance to make his life perfect.

Unfortunately, we did not fit into his perfect lifestyle.

I popped open the tab on the soda and took a deep breath, shaky hands fumbling with the opening to the plastic bag. Why was I so nervous? I had something to prove. I chose this of my own volition. If anything else happened I was sure to have a panic attack- maybe it was better to do this at home…

Then again, I already was waist deep in the water. It was best to just jump in while I was at it.

Two trembling fingers placed the small pill on the back of my tongue, the strong peppermint taste making me recoil for a moment before I took a swig of the carbonated drink. I squeezed my eyes shut as the disgusting feeling of the oblong object sliding down my throat gave me chills, waiting for the sensation to end. Soon enough, the feeling faded-

And nothing changed. At all.

I blinked my eyes open. Okay. So……. wasn’t I supposed to start hearing things or something? I called out in my mind hesitantly, feeling like a fool. Nothing. Silence. I frowned deeply and stood. All that was left of the pill was a distorted minty aftertaste in my mouth and nothing more.

This had to be a joke.

Abandoning my soda on the table, I marched to the restrooms. Just to make sure- I wanted to know of every possible change, every possible thing that could’ve happened to me. But the nagging feeling in the back of my head grew…..

What if there was no such thing as the SQUIP?

What if Jeremy had forked over his cash and- instead of being disappointed at the lie- took the opportunity to just totally abandon us? Did he even believe the lie in the first place?

Had we done something wrong? Had we offended him? Hurt him in some way?

What could I do to fix this?

My worries rang clear in my ears as I stared at myself in the crusty bathroom mirror, hands gripping the sides of the dirty sink tightly as I tried to control my breathing. I looked awful. It wasn’t even because of the pill, I knew that- my stressing would make me look beyond my years once I graduated, I was sure.

But the thing that unsettled me the most?

The fear in my eyes.

And just like that, everything was spinning- I heard myself gasp as I collapsed to the ground. Pain shot up my spine. Someone screamed- or was that me? I couldn’t tell. I prayed the bathroom was empty.

'Target male inaccessible.’

My eyes widened. No. No. This couldn’t- it wasn’t real-

'Please excuse some mild discomfort.’

The voice rang out in my ears once more and I felt my body jolt as another wave of pain flooded my body, a weak cry the only noise escaping my lips. This couldn’t be happening. It wasn’t a real thing- the SQUIP didn’t exist- I had already determined-

'Calibration complete. Access procedure initiated.’

The world seemed to stop for a moment. Everything froze. The pain vanished abruptly, my thoughts froze, my heart stopped. I let out a shaky breath. My body trembled involuntarily.

'Discomfort level may increase.’

A shrill scream filled the air as blistering pain overtook my senses a second time, eyes squeezed shut as sobs wracked my body. Tears trickled down my cheeks freely. This was the worst thing I’d ever experienced. In that moment I wanted to end it all- I wanted everything to stop, the pain to stop, the problems to stop, the world to stop. I just needed to breathe. Just for a moment….

'Accessing neural memory. Accessing muscle memory. Access complete.’

A weak breath escaped my lips as my body went limp, all energy needed to sustain myself having evaporated. But I could still hear it. Could still hear him.

“___________________. Welcome to your Super Quantum Unit Intel Processor.”

I closed my eyes.

“Your SQUIP.”

The world fell silent as I went unconscious.

[taegdcl1018]

3 Billion Dollars [Part 6] - G Dragon Mafia!AU

Summary: When your father owes 3 billion dollars to the mafia, he must repay his debt. Although things don’t  exactly the way he hoped.

Genre: angst? a little fluffy at some parts. this low key is another chapter filler

Warning: None really here, at least I don’t think

{part 1} {part 2} {part 3} {part 4} {part 5} {part 6} {part 7} {part 8} {part 9} {part 10} {part 11} {part 12} {part 13} {part 14} {part 15} {part 16} {part 17} {part 18} {part 19} {part 20} {part 21} {part 22} {part 23}

A/N: So I’m sorry to my Kpop Fans if you see Teen Wolf stuff on your dash or my blog. It will not change, I love Teen Wolf and it has helped me through a lot. I’m sorry if this bothers you. Anyways, like always my inbox is open and I will always reply to everyone. I hope you enjoy!

~ Admin Brooklyn

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ji Yong hated mornings. He just wanted to sleep, and the clearly irritated expression on his face showed it. He had to start his day though. A meeting, then grabbing Seungri and going for a quick check up on a special talkative someone. Ji Yong raked a hand through his hair, walking out of his room and down the hall. His eyes met with Youngbae's tired ones.

“How are you doing?” Youngbae sighed rubbing his eyes with his hands. “Why the hell did you make me do this Ji Yong?”

“You were the only one that I trust and was free. Plus she knows you, maybe that’ll help her cope with this.” Youngbae nodded his head, sleep hanging in his eyes. Ji Yong looked at the door, a little anxious to see her. He needed to get his day started. He had an important meeting that he called for. No skipping this one.

“She was crying until, I think, two last night.” Youngbae’s words made Ji Yong perk up. He was paying full attention to you now. concern and a little regret on his face. Youngbae looked at him expectedly.

“I’m just gonna go in and check on her.” Ji Yong mumbled. He opened the cream door, and light flooded into the dark room. The dark colored walls turned everything into a shadow, the only other light source was the light shining from the window. As he stepped into the room, he saw you.

You were laying on your bed, the covers a mess underneath you. Ji Yong sighed deeply, grabbing your blue blanket still in its bag. He walked over and tucked you in with the blanket just the way you like it. He stopped abruptly, noticing the way you shifted into the blanket unintentionally. He stared at you, your peaceful state was heartwarming for him. It didn’t last too long when he noticed the dried tear stains on your cheeks. He frowned and rubbed his thumb over your cheek lovingly. He slowly pulled back, being careful so he wouldn’t wake you up.

“I’ll explain everything later (Y/N). Just stay alive and listen to me.” Ji Yong mumbled, brushing your hair back lightly. He sighed softly before leaving the room. Shutting the door behind him. He grabbed Youngbae and shook him awake, leaning on him a little.

“I’ll send Seungri over to watch over her for now. You go sleep. I’m gonna need you later.” Youngbae nodded his head, closing his eyes once again before rubbing them. Ji Yong nodded his head, clearing any thought of you, before getting back to work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You woke up at noon, the sun filling the dark room. The memories of last night were unpleasant, so you chose to ignore it. It wasn’t easy though. Was it because the room that you were sleeping in was his? Maybe it was the fuzzy blue blanket that he bought for you, was pulled up over you. It could also be the fact that you're still in his clothes. They were all just things that reminded you of what happened. Your mother is dead, along with your brother. Ji Yong killed your brother. Ji Yong’s dad killed your mother. They took you away from your father. Your family planned it without you knowing. Ji Yong knew as he became your best friend. Ji Yong is in the mafia.

You groaned, just the thoughts of all of these things are just too overwhelming. You ran a hand through your hair, taking a deep breath. Your head shot up to the sound of your door opening. Your eyes widened, not wanting anyone to see you. A man stepped into your room. He looked so familiar, but you just couldn’t figure out who it was. He had platinum blonde hair and wore dark clothing. It wasn’t until he gave you a signature smile that you recognized who it was.

“Lee Seunghyun?!” You questioned. He gave you a sheepish smile and waved awkwardly. He stepped closer as you gave him wide eyes. “Morning (Y/N). Well, good afternoon at least.”

“Is everyone from high school in the mafia?” You groaned. He was your best friend, well after Ji Yong he was. You met each other through Ji Yong, and he was there for you ever since that fateful lunch block. Whenever Ji Yong left you unexpectedly for his work, which was starting to make more sense now, Seungri was always there to cheer you up.

“Technically speaking I was here before I was in high school.” You stared at him in shock. He chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. “Anyways, you were supposed to eat a few hours ago, but I didn’t want to wake you up. We can go down to the kitchen now if you would like?”

“Ummm,” you didn’t exactly know what to say. Seungri was never like this around you. He was always playful and witty. It was different to see this side of him, and it made you a little nervous. “Okay?”

“Wonderful!” Seungri seemed to pick up his attitude. A wide cheerful smile appearing on his face. He smirked quickly a sly expression on his face. “You might want to get changed first.”

A blush crept onto your face as you rolled your eyes and threw a pillow at him. He giggled and left the room in a rush, wanting to avoid your aim. You sighed, getting up from your messy bed. The growling of your stomach made you realize how hungry you were. You did a quick stretch, a weird screech like groan left your lips as you did so. You face contorted in confusion, only to brush it off and continue with changing your clothes. Switching from Ji Yong’s baggy clothes to your own baggy sweats wasn’t much of a change. The only difference was the loss of his scent on your clothing, but being that he practically lives here meant that his scent lingered everywhere.

You stepped outside of your room timidly, looking out for Seungri. Not a second later did his face pop into your view. A cheerful smile was on his face. You gave him the best smile you could give. He held his arm out for you, and you smiled before linking your arms together. He leads you away from your cream colored door, towards what assumed was the kitchen.

He leads you down multiple hallways. As you got farther away from your room the silence that surrounded your room started to go away. The sound of people talking, hurried footsteps, and the occasional sound of a gun reloading, filled the building. Seungri leads you past people. They all stared you down, each with different looks. Some looked at you with curiosity, it was very rare to see a girl with sweats on in the mafia. Most girls were either strippers or wore the shortest clothes to get what they want. Others stared at you with interest. Some wanted you, others wanted to power that you possibly had.

There were rumors about a girl that the great G Dragon brought in yesterday night. About the fuss that he made when she saw strippers fucking some men. The extra precautions he took for her. Almost everyone in the building knew about how you got here, and about how much you meant to their boss, G Dragon. It meant that you had power over him, and that was dangerous for you. Seungri noticed your discomfort with the looks that you were receiving, so he placed a hand on your back and pushed you to move faster. You looked down, wanting to avoid any eye contact with these people.

“Here we are!” Seungri said, leading you away from the people and into a big kitchen. The walls were cream colored just like everything else. The chairs were cream, the island counter was cream colored, even the granite seemed to be cream. There was a huge fridge that seemed to be two times bigger than you. Seungri opened up the fridge and started to give you breakfast options.

“What do you want? We have cereal, waffles, toast, ice cream.” Seungri listed. You raised your eyebrow questioningly at his last option. He turned to you and jokingly smiled at your confused expression.

“What? Nobody else but Seunghyun hyung will eat it, and he’ll eat it all. Gotta eat it early.” He said. You smiled lightly at his playful manner. You liked it. It seemed to brighten your mood that at least someone hasn’t dramatically changed their attitude. “So what do you want (Y/N)?”

“What kind of ice cream is it?”

   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“He is out there somewhere. We have to do something.” Kang Seung Yoon said. Ji Yong ran a hand through his hair, trying to clear his head and think things through. He remembered that you would always run your hands through his hair whenever he was stressed. It always seemed to do the trick. Right now he needed it.

“Obviously we have to do something, otherwise Ji Yong wouldn’t have called you.” Seunghyun said. Everyone looked to Ji Yong. He had called for this meeting. He called some of his closest allies and friends. 2ne1, a group of girls who lead a neighboring gang. Winner, with Seung Yoon as their leader. iKon, with B.I. as their leader, also lead a gang with some territory. The newest addition was Black Pink. They were new and it was obvious.

“So Ji Yong, what do you want to do?” CL, the leader of 2ne1, asked. He looked at her. They were close, and she could see not only the lack of sleep in his eyes but also the stress that he carried with him. He sighed leaning against his chair.

“Well let’s go over what we know about him, then what we can assume.” His words seemed to hang in the room. Nobody really knew Flynn too well. He just seemed to pop up a few years ago. He looked around. Everyone remained silent, either not willing to give info or having no info to share. “I’ll go first then.”

“He’s been after everything that we’ve been working for. Everything, land, weapons, money. We don’t know really know why, but we know that he’s been attacking areas.” Ji Yong started, waiting for someone to pick up. Thankfully someone in Winner did.

“The first time we got an attack from his was roughly four years ago.” Song Mino. Ji Yong knew him. He was told that Mino was the mini him, Ji Yong couldn’t exactly see it though. “He took a few guns off of some of our people he killed. We tried going after him, it didn’t work.”

“He seems to vanish whenever we try looking for him.” Seung Yoon finished Mino’s thoughts. Ji Yong nodded his head, looking down at the table. Four years ago. You were in college, so he shouldn’t know you.

“Something is obviously bugging you,” CL said. Ji Yong looked up at her. She had this stern expression on, but she still managed to show that she cared as well. She looked at him expectantly. “You can tell us oppa. Not like we aren’t your friends.”

Ji Yong laughed lightly. He raised an eyebrow at her, questioning her playfully. She raised one back, but hers was sassier. Seunghyun cleared his throat. Ji Yong looked at him, who clearly was getting agitated at the lack of progress as well.

“Might as well say something. Better not hide it from people who can help.” He said. He knew what was on Ji Yong’s mind, and he knew that Ji Yong is hesitant to share info on his princess. Ji Yong sighed and looked down at the dark wood table.

“You remember (Y/N), right Chae Lin?” She nodded her head, confused slightly at why he mentioned you. He looked up at her, watching her as her expression changed. Her confusion went to slight shock and a small amount of excitement.

“She’s back from college?” Ji Yong nodded his head solemnly. He remembers how close you were to Chae Lin, but he knows you’ll be upset when you find out about her and the mafia. She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue.

“She finished school about a few weeks ago, got back home last week. We picked her up yesterday. She isn’t exactly happy with me right now.” Everyone else was confused. The only people who seemed to know what was going on were Chae Lin, the rest of 2ne1, Ji Yong, and Seunghyun.

“She’s been mad at you plenty of times, no matter what stupid thing you’ve done. Why are you worried about it now?” Chae Lin looked at Ji Yong skeptically. He was about to say something when B.I. spoke up first. “Who is (Y/N)? Why is she so important?”

“She’s somebody you probably won’t meet.” Ji Yong said harshly at him. B.I. sunk into his chair, as Ji Yong sighed again. “She’s important due to something that happened twenty plus years ago. Okay? She’s important now because she’s linked to me personally. It now makes her a target.”

“So why does this have to do with Flynn?” Mino asked. Seunghyun sighed and rubbed a hand through his hair. “The night we brought (Y/N), we had a deal with Flynn. He would bring back a few of our men for a few guns. It didn’t work out cause he left the building roughly the same time we picked up (Y/N).”

“That could just be a coincidence.” Taehyun, the maknae of Winner, said. Ji Yong looked up at him. His sharp eyes almost glaring at him. “Of course I thought that it could be, but I’d rather make sure I stop him from hurting her.”

“I have a question.” Jisoo finally spoke up. Ji Yong looked at her almost surprised. She hesitated, waiting to make sure it was okay for her to speak. Ji Yong waved his hand, letting her know that she could speak freely.

“He showed up four years ago right?” Jisoo asked for confirmation. B.I. nodded his head. The table was silent, content on waiting for what she has to say. “And that girl, (Y/N), she was in college right? What if they knew each other in college?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been weeks since your first full day in this house. Each day you were stuck in your bedroom, with books, a sketchbook, your music, and the boys to keep you company. Usually, Seungri or Daesung would be the ones to keep you company. Occasionally Youngbae and Seunghyun came in to talk and watch over you. Ji Yong never showed up though, and you didn’t know if you were happy about it or not. It’s not like you particularly love his actions and his choices at the moment, but he did have answers that you wanted. You were distracted by them each day thanks to Seungri.

Ji Yong wasn’t having a very relaxing month compared to yours. He was stressed to no end with Flynn. What Jisoo brought up was shot down immediately, people saying that someone in the mafia doesn’t go to college. Although it was true, people in the mafia don’t go to college, he couldn’t help but think that there is a small chance. He’d have to bring it up with you though, and he knows that you still aren’t happy with him. He’ll have to figure things out first before he could do anything.

Currently, you were reading your favorite book, laying on your bed. Ji Yong’s cat cuddled up against your side. The cat purred as you pet it, soft noises emitting from its mouth. Everything was pretty calm considering the situation you were still in. A knock sounded on your door.

“Come in.” You carelessly say, expecting Seungri or Daesung to open the door with a pizza. But this time, both the older and the younger Seunghyun stepped up with Mr. Kwon in between them.

“Look at you, already adjusted to your new life.” Mr. Kwon said. The two boys stood behind him on either side. They were quiet and looked very stiff, almost as if someone was holding a gun to their heads. Mr. Kwon looked at you, an amused look on his face. Honestly, Ji Yong took a lot after him, and that expression was one that you saw on him at times. Although whenever Ji Yong gave you that look it was more playful.

“Well almost adjusted. That’s where I come in princess. So get up, we’re going to make sure you know what exactly you’ll have to do to survive here.”

[ooobirdy]

Let go (A hurt/Comfort Hamilfam one-shot)

He was in shock.

Hamilton didn’t get fired. Hamilton got other people fired with his big mouth, but had never had it happen to himself.

The kicker? He not only got fired, he was unhirable from his less than satisfactory exit.

Don’t punch your boss square in the face, kids. It doesn’t bode well for anyone at all.

Words: 2,411 Tags: Hamilfam (including all the kids. all of them), swearing, inappropriate conversations, mentions of being fired, emotional distress at being fired, and comfort from multiple sources, John Adams is a dick, and Burr is here too Pairing: Eliza Schuyler/Alexander Hamilton (they’re married, it’s an established relationship) Alternate Universe: Modern era, the government branch officials and politicians work at a banking firm

The door shut with a resounding click. It was too quiet. All the kids were at school, and his Dearest Eliza was working. Heh, working.

Alexander ran a hand down his face, sighing heavily as he set down his briefcase on the table, shuffling from the room. It’d be hours before his family came home. It gave him time to think, to try to gather his bearings and understand what he had truly done.

He was in shock.

Hamilton didn’t get fired. Hamilton got other people fired with his big mouth, but had never had it happen to himself.

The kicker? He not only got fired, he was unhirable from his less than satisfactory exit.

Don’t punch your boss square in the face, kids. It doesn’t bode well for anyone at all.

His metaphorical pink slip weighed heavy on his mind. Maybe fast food was hiring… He needed a job to support his family. What he really needed was something that matched his banking finance, but that wasn’t coming his way anytime soon, his former employer would make damned sure of it.

Alexander flopped down at the breakfast bar, hiding his face in his hands as he shook with barely contained rage and grief at his stupid decision. It wasn’t just him he was hurting with that stupid move. It was his family. They could still live on a budget with his wife’s paycheck, but that just wouldn’t be fair to his family, especially said wife.

He had made a mistake, but was too stubborn, too prideful to admit it to anyone but himself.

The Caribbean man slid his face from his hands, sighing again. He seemed to be doing a lot of that lately.

How would Eliza even react to this news? He’d had it where they could live and still splurge if they wanted to… Would his wife even want to remain with him?

His phone buzzed in his pocket and Alexander froze, blood turning to ice, breath hitching. He stayed like that for the full minute his phone went off before finally fishing the object out of his pocket and checking who had been calling.

Aaron Burr?

Alexander called him back.

“Alexander?”

“Aaron Burr, sir?”

“I...I heard what happened. If it’s of any consolation, you have my condolences.”

Alexander scoffed, laughing mirthlessly.

“It’s just a job.”

“Which you’re probably beating yourself up about.”

“...”

“Your silence says all I need to know.”

Alexander sighed, running a hand down his face.

“You’ve only called to express pity, and as much as I appreciate it, I don’t rightly need it. I do, however, need to figure out what the hell i’m going to do to support my family..”

“Jobs aren’t that easy to find, Alexander.”

“Gee, Burr, it’s like I didn’t know that already.”

“Hey, I’m not here to be mocked, I’m just being honest.”

“Be honest elsewhere, sir.”

“Your pride is gonna be the death of us all.”

And with that, the line clicked to a close, static playing over the phone. Hamilton frowned.

“Ah, jeez…”

Setting his phone aside, Alexander paced the hallway of his empty foyer. What was he going to do? Should he apologize? Get on his knees and beg Adams, the bastard, for forgiveness? Should he shut up and let the man scorned become him? Should he immediately go a print a new resume and hope for the best? Jeez, what if he ended up a cashier again? He hadn’t been in retail work in almost ten years, he doubted he’d be able to do it flawlessly if it came to that.

That’s when it hit him.

Law school.

He had never finished being a lawyer!

Would they still take him?

Would Burr recommend him?

Hamilton thought quietly, stopping his pacing before running to his phone and dialing.

Surprisingly, Aaron picked up.

“If you’re calling to yell at me-”

“No, no, quite the contrary, sir!”

Aaron was taken aback by the suddenly chipper man. He had just gotten fired, what the hell had him so excited?

“Your mood flipped pretty easily.”

“Do you still have your lawyer buddies?”

“...Did you do something illegal?”

“No, no, I didn’t do anything like that….Yet.”

“Think of a plausible alibi if you’re gonna do something stupid.”

Alexander laughed.

“You’ve got a dry sense of humor, but it’s definitely still there after all these years.”

“Aging me up, aren’t you?”

“Face it, Burr, you’re old.”

“I’m only a year older than you.”

“I never said I wasn’t getting old. Which, for the record, I’m not.”

It was Aaron’s turn to laugh.

“Why’d you need my lawyer friends?”

Alexander smiled sheepishly on the other side of the phonecall.

“Well, you and I used to work together on cases, and I wasn’t too bad at it. I think it might help? I mean, sure, it isn’t a bank, but I can live with righting injustice and putting wrong doers in their place again.”

Aaron paused, absorbing the information.

“You know this means you can’t blow everything out of proportion, right? You have to redo your training and do as they tell you to do.”

Alexander blew a raspberry into the receiver.

“And not do childish stuff like this.”

“I’m fiiiiiiiiiine. Can they help me, or not?”

“You’re a grown ass man, Hamilton.”

“Are you saying that to my ‘fine,’ or to me asking if they can help, because either way, it works, and it’s disturbing how accurate that is.”

Aaron stifled a laugh on the other side of the phone conversation.

“You’re such a kid, remind me again how you kept the bank afloat in Washington’s wake?”

“Because I’m a fucking badass, and I knew what I was doing. Watch, it’s gonna close under Jefferson and Adams’ thumbs.”

Burr chuckled.

“Your confidence is astounding, Hamilton.”

“Hah, you say that like it hasn’t always been.”

“Just minutes prior, you were a shell of this exuberant facade.”

Alexander rolled his eyes, hmmphing.

Aaron paused.

“I’ll talk to them. I know that’s what you’ve wanted to hear, not to me rambling.”

“You weren’t rambling, Mr. Burr, sir. We were bantering.”

“Still, I apologize. I’ll talk to William, but you should get a hold of Pendleton if you want to see if he still needs a partner.”

“Oh-! I had forgotten all about poor Pendleton!”

“Isn’t he one of your best friends?”

“Yes.”

Aaron facepalmed.

“It’s a wonder you have any friends.”

Hamilton laughed.

“Hey, Aaron?”

Burr blinked.

How...Informal.

“Yes, Alexander?”

“Thank you. For everything. You’re always so succinct and persuasive. I’d botch it somehow, and I appreciate you picking up the phone even after I made it seem like I didn’t need your help. Well, i mean, i didn’t at the time, but still.”

Aaron chuckled.

“I knew you’d come back, either to yell at me, or ask for help, so I kept my phone nearby.”

“Wait- Aren’t you still at work?”

“Lunch break.”

“And you’re spending it talking to me? Geez, Aaron, go feed yourself.”

It was Aaron’s turn to scoff.

“You’re not allowed to lecture me about not eating when you probably haven’t eaten today at all.”

Alexander snickered.

“No need to get so peeved, sir.”

Aaron sighed.

“Just go call Nathaniel. I’ll get with Van Ness, and we’ll see where it goes from there.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“ No problem, Alexander.”

Burr ended the call.

Hamilton felt a little bit more at ease now that he had a plan. All that was left was to tell his wife. But first, time to binge Hell’s Kitchen now that he had free time.

---

Alexander was about ten episodes into Hell’s kitchen when his kids and wife walked through the door, confused to see him there, dressed up in his sweats and with his hair in a messy bun, not in his normal business attire, eyeing his briefcase on the table near the front door wearily.

“You’re home early, pops,” Philip said, flopping down on the couch next to his father.

Alex paused the tv, smiling, albeit strained.

“Heya, Pip, how was school?”

“It went alright. I passed a test with really high marks.”

“ Nice!”

Hamilton’s second oldest child peeked her head around the corner before taking a running start and leaping onto both her father’s, and her brother’s lap, wedging herself into a comfortable position that left both men cringing in pain.

“ANGIE, WHAT THE SHIT!”

“Language,” Alexander laughed.

“She’s squishing my dick.”

“Your dick is too tiny for me to squish, it’s practically concaved.”

Philip shoved her off his lap and onto the floor, fuming.

Alexander Jr. blinked, raising a brow at the display before asking the obvious question looming in the air.

“Dad, how was work? You’re usually not home until a couple hours after us.”

Alexander Jr’s father sighed heavily, curling in on himself.

“Go get your mother and sister, I have an announcement.”

Alex left to go get both Eliza’s, John Church wandering into the room, sipping on a caprisun that were for the younger children, but not really giving a shit otherwise.

“Sup, pops.”

John raised a brow at where Philip and Angelica were bitching at each other, pushing each other in a makeshift wrestling match. Alexander was just watching his children with a far-off look on his face. John could tell something was wrong.

Both Elizas wandered into the room, the eldest one holding her daughter’s hand.

She eyed where her two eldest children were fighting with displeasure before letting her daughter’s hand go and going over, pulling Angelica from Philip, and vice versa.

“Can you two not stop fighting for even five minutes?”

“He’s insulted cause i said he has a little dick.”

Eliza blushed deeply, covering her mouth.

“Angelica!”

Angelica laughed and Philip blushed, looking off to the side angrily.

For once, Hamilton was glad the spotlight wasn’t on him. This was far more amusing.

But it could only last for so long when his little prodigy came back into the room, toting James along with him.

The only one missing was William, but he was probably down for a nap. He was too young to understand ‘fired’ anyway.

Hamilton cleared his throat.

Everyone paused and turned to face the man, and Alexander felt hot under the scrutinizing gazes.

“I’ve called you all here for a reason...”

“Mhmm, yup, we’ve all heard this one before,” Philip said offhandedly, flinching when his father turned and glared coldly at him, actually recoiling to the other side of the couch.

“You asshole,” Angelica said sternly.

Alexander took a breath, running a hand down his face, careful of his glasses.

“As I was saying...There’s no easy way to say this, but it has to be said. I got let go from my job.”

There was a lot of collective gasps, and a sputter of disbelief from Philip, who was spewing apologies for his comment earlier, having thought his father was just going to tell a terrible dad pun.

Little Eliza crawled up into her father’s lap, staring him in the eyes.

“What are you gonna do now, daddy?”

Alexander smiled sadly.

“Daddy’s gonna go and try lawyering again.”

His youngest daughter lit up.

“Lawyering? Daddy’s gonna be a law man?”

Alexander laughed, ruffling his daughter’s dark hair.

“A lawyer, sweetheart.”

“Ooooooh.”

He chuckled, lifting his daughter up and setting her more comfortably on his lap, playing with her hair. He looked up at the rest of his family carefully, trying to gauge their reactions.

“Any questions?”

His wife raised her hand and he couldn’t help but feel more in love. That was such an innocent, dorky thing to do. He loved his teacher wife.

“Yes, love?”

“Why were you let go?”

“I, uh- They didn’t need me at the firm anymore…”

The eldest Eliza looked upset.

“They just let you go out of the blue? That’s horrible!”

Alexander felt a sharp stinging in his chest and sighed, setting his daughter down before getting up and kissing his wife’s cheek, whispering in her ear.

“I’ll explain more tonight, love.”

Philip raised a brow.

“Please don’t use dad getting fired as foreplay.”

His mother balked.

“Philip James Hamilton!”

Alexander was bright red at this point, praying to anybody who would listen that his younger kids didn’t ask what foreplay was.

He considered himself lucky when they brushed to a new topic completely.

---

As they were getting ready for bed, Eliza and Alexander fluffed the pillows and made the duvet, talking aimlessly, just trying to get things about their day out in the open. Eliza’s students had painted flowers.

“They were so lovely, too. They’re very talented kids.”

“I bet,” Alexander replied, changing into his sleep clothes, tossing his others in the hamper and letting his hair down from its messy bun.

Eliza shimmied out of her dress and slipped on her nightgown, trying her hair up and stretching, walking over to the light and flipping it off before walking back to the bed and slipping in. She snuggled into the covers as she waited for her husband to do the same.

He didn’t.

She frowned and sat back up, raising a brow at him in the dark room as her eyes adjusted and she spotted him waiting on the end of the bed, lost in thought.

“Alexander?”

He jolted from his thoughts.

“S-Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“About what, love?”

Alexander sighed, turning to face his wife in the dark room.

“I ran that firm under Washington for years..But then Adams takes over, calls me undeserving, and with the help of Jefferson, the fucker, dethrones me completely..”

Eliza frowned, crawling back out from under the covers and padding over to her husband, sitting beside him and running a hand soothingly over his back.

“Come to bed, sleep it off, love.”

“I punched him.”

Eliza paused.

“What?”

“He called me a creole bastard. So I socked the bastard in the fucking face.”

Eliza sighed, leaning over and kissing her husband.

“Defend your honor in a way that doesn’t hurt someone.”

“He had it coming!”

"You're strong and capable of picking yourself back up even after this, and that's what really matters. They lost a valuable person at the firm today."

Alexander took his wife’s hand.

“And I’d do it again if I could.”

Eliza rolled her eyes, but smiled and kissed Alexander’s forehead.

“Come back to bed, that would be enough.”

And for once, Alexander indulged her.

They’d work through this later, but for now it was time to sleep.

[peaceofpuregold-blog]

GUNS & SHIT (part dos)

OK, so this is the super important one, previous one was just about where I was coming from as the child of a cop and what I was taught from him.

As in the one that might need a boost/reblog if you find it helpful.

I'm going to go over what's the best civilian protocol to an Active Shooter scenario that I was at least taught (police and military personnel are welcome to tag or DM me with additional tips and tricks and I will edit this post) with accommodations and ideas for folks with disabilities. I will also go over tips on how to otherwise increase your chances of survival and avoiding injury ahead of time in case you find yourselves in such a situation in the next part (with assistance from my other parent, who happens to be a nurse and was initially a trauma one at that).

Unfortunately in our current political climate and the past political climate of the past few decades... it is in our best interests to know how to help ourselves and each other until a LOT of shit changes.

Keep in mind, this post is made with one shooter in mind. I'd have to do more research to see what ought to be different for a multiple shooters scenario if there’s enough interest.

Cut for length... Super length. You've been warned... And be warned there’s a LOT of cursing. It’s my way of adding a bit of levity, and it’s how I just write/talk.

First, let us go over the three legs on which this wobbly table stands: Run, Hide, Fight.

These are the three core principles of how to survive an Active Shooter. They are not to be adhered to in that specific order, you choose which to do based on what is most appropriate at the time. Do NOT fall for the linear thinking of taking these steps the order in which it is written, this is a common misconception that seems to occur when people are trained what to do as civilians in an Active Shooter situation in schools and office buildings.

1. Run: Drop yo shit (don't worry about taking things with you, your life and those of others are more important than material objects) and fuckin' GO. Keep as quiet as possible, no shoutin' or screaming. If there are not emergency personnel at the scene already call 911 once you are in a safe place. Give them your address and say there is at least one active shooter there. Stay on the line, they will have further questions, and answer as honestly as possible, do your best not to make assumptions. If you don't know for sure say, “I don't know.” If you are in charge of a small group of children, go over with all of them what to do; when I say run, YOU BEST FOLLOW AND RUN. This step may be combined also with the others I will mention further on.

These are the times when you should start running.

a. You hear the sounds of gunfire in the distance; oy, run in the opposite direction.

b. You know the layout and exit plans of the facility you're in and you are certain they are a short ways away and have not seen the shooter.

c. You have clear exit routes, like say when you're outside like the recent Las Vegas shooting; there are some caveats to this which will be covered in the “Hide” section.

d. Emergency personnel are already on the scene directing you to do so. Please keep hands clear. Do NOT fucking grab a hold of them or touch them or scream in their face. This just makes it harder for them to do their job and ablility to help more people to evacuate more quickly.

e. Some things to consider for folks with disabilities:

i. For the deaf, look for a shit ton of people running in the same direction or scattering, and possibly for flickering lights and see who is doing it. Why? Because... For those who aren't deaf but know someone who is in your vicinity, if you're across the room from them and are out of reach of tapping them on the shoulder, flick the lights on and off quickly a few times. Folks will usually quickly turn to see what's the source of this. If you don't know ASL, motion for them to follow you and say it without sound (some can lip-read, and the quieter you are the better) “follow me and run,” and start runnin'.

ii. For the blind, trust yourself if you think you hear gunshots and go to the nearest exit as quickly as possible. If you are the one leading them or giving other assistance, give them a quick head's up that you're running to the nearest exit and do so. Keep in mind and respect the fact that they may actually be the one giving YOU a head's up on the situation. If they say ya'll should go or “I've got a bad feeling about this...” Star Wars style, respect that shit and roll out.

iii. For those with mobility disabilities or a temporary condition, keep in mind that this is a life or death situation. Normally someone might ask permission to assist (if they know any better) but, BOI YOU AIN'T GOT TIME FOR THAT. If someone is trying to help you that may be unaware as to how to help you best, do your best to explain to who ever is trying to help the best way to assist you and then skedaddle as quickly and quietly as possible along. If you are in a wheelchair, don't be surprised if your chair suddenly takes a life of it's own at MACH 5 after hearing shots or a hell of a lot of screaming. Folks can apologize later and say that they would have otherwise respected your agency and did not intend for this to be in any way an act of ableism or other form of discrimination. [In this situation this is the best course of action I can think of for those in manual wheelchairs and use other mobility aides to prevent death and injury after consulting with some wheelchair bound folks I work with, but I can totally understand that this may be a hot topic or something I might get some blow-back on. I honestly would not mind and welcome it. Please comment and reblog with what ya'll think on the subject. I've only had to use a wheelchair for a short time, and other mobility aides just slightly longer than that. It could be that I was just shit at using them at high speed (I was able to pop some sick wheelies and figure out how to get up/down stairs in odd but functional ways, though because FUCK YOU AND YOUR LACK OF ACCOMMODATIONS).] For folks who don't or never have used aides keep in mind that they may be quicker than or as quick as you (read: dem fancy ass power/electric wheelchairs), if that is the case just make sure they know where to go in an emergency.

iv. For those with processing, developmental, or sensitivity-related disabilities, something like this is best addressed ahead of time. Find a way to be able to tell folks (or for them to tell you) “We need to fuckin' GO,” in the Emergency Code Red Alert sense—maybe a bit more professionally than that if needed. Examples: for those that have a receptive and/or expressive language deficit, practice having a designated emergency “touch” cue to communicate this; if you have a tactile sensitivity, figure out what may be an appropriate cue (verbal or nonverbal); if you have auditory sensitivity... again see the blind folks note. If you aren't the one with the sensitivity, they could be notifying YOU of the situation first (maybe have an emergency phrase or cue that can be used rather than expressing discomfort or your common cues to auditory distress) rather than the other way around. For folks on the other end... Once more, respect that shit and roll out.

v. For other disabilities (like my epilepsy, and of course mental ones are included too for fuck's sake THAT SHIT'S NOT GOOD WHEN SHOTS ARE FLYIN') or a combination thereof, go over ahead of time what protocol would be best  in an emergency situation where you may need to run. Talk to each other. Help each other. Know your limits.

f. There are some other things in mind that are... really sad to cover but need to be spoken about.

i. If you see a small child by themselves with no adult nearby... or a dead/nearly dead one next to them, scoop them (meaning the child) up if you are able to and run.

ii. For larger kids, grab them by the hand and run.

iii. You can encourage other folks to follow you, especially in the case where the exit is a short ways away, but if they choose to shelter in place... that's their decision. Do not waste time trying to convince them if they refuse.

...WELL THAT WAS LOVELY, SHALL WE PROCEED?

2. Hide: shelter in place, once again, shut the fuck up. Generally you hunker down in a room, lock the door, move heavy shit (like an office copier/printer, large furniture, etc) against the door to barricade it, and stay away from said door and any windows. Silence your phone and try to at least turn down the contrast on your screen if not totally turn the screen off. If you feel safe enough, do dial 911, but don't talk! If they don't hear you talking after trying to engage, they might hear what's going on in your surroundings (for instance, gunshots) and may be able to ping your location the same way they find kidnapping victims or abuse victims where they can hear things happening, but don't need to speak to an actual person. If you are in charge of a small group of children, go over with all of them what to do depending on what is best practices in your facility. If you would like to, hide yourself within the room in other furniture that can fit you, but that will impede things I may talk about in step #3. Speaking of, arm yourself if you're able to do so.

These are the times you should hide.

a. You hear the gunshots really fucking close, but don't see the shooter themselves yet.

b. You are in a space where you're unfamiliar of the lay of the land (like how far away the exits are) and cannot see a posted emergency floor plan that labels the  routes to the nearest exits clearly, so find the first room you can if you are not in sight of the shooter; especially if gunshots are coming from the direction you entered.

c. You are dealing with rapid-fire shots and they are descending upon you. So no clear view of the shooter, but it's hailing bullets. Again... see the Las Vegas shooting. For these situations if you cannot find a store to get into or get far enough away and out of range from by simply running the fuck away right out, run into an alleyway and get on the far side of a dumpster (NOT IN IT), or if there are chunks of decorative concrete that happen to be about (hey, some places have random pillars or fancy raised flower beds strewn up and down the street and shit) duck as quickly as you can and take shelter behind them. Concrete is your friend. Steel is your buddy.

d. You are in a large space like a concert hall, so the shooter will have trouble keeping track of all of you, so you run so that you are out of the large space and find a room (preferably) if you're not familiar enough to know where the emergency exits are quickly (which isn't often unless you've been to the venue on several occasions and/or the venue is shit at making that obvious). Dropping quick to the floor if there are things that will hide you from the shooter, like them fancy concert chairs with steel backs and bases, is also an option if you’re pretty near the shooter.

e. If there are cops on the scene and they direct you to shelter in place. This may happen if there are several shooters involved on the scene and they all haven’t been neutralized yet. Once again, keep hands clear, and please don't touch, yell at, or grab them. You may also be told to shelter in place via text at school or a campus-wide alert. Especially, if they state the building where the shooter is and you are anywhere near it STAY THE FUCK PUT. Even if you are not anywhere near the building where the activity may be happening, most campuses have lock-down procedures; please don't hinder anyone trying to carry them out and listen to the directions staff may tell you.

f. For folks with disabilities

i. For the deaf, same thing as before, remember flicky light thing, etc. For those who aren't deaf and you don't know ASL, gesture to be quiet (first finger finger put vertically to the mouth is pretty dang universal) and ask for help moving shit if necessary and position themselves appropriately. Mouth the commands silently as well.

ii. For the blind, do your best, but be warned someone on the other side of the veil might take initiative here. For those on said other side, quickly and quietly let them know what you're doing, and again respect the fact that they may be giving you the head's up instead of the other way around. Move them into a safe position once everything has been blocked off.

iii. For those with mobility based disabilities, BOI LET ME TELL YOU HOW MUCH A POWERCHAIR WEIGHS (150 all the way up to nearly 400 lbs last I checked for the heavy-duty ones). They can often be the best barricades you'll find in a room, period. You best fuckin' HOPE you have an individual awesome enough to be an owner of such an item if you are not already the fabulous personage in possession of one. Other mobility aides (or parts from them) are fanfuckingtastic at also jamming doors shut. If you are not the owner of these aides and find yourself in a room with folks who are, bring this up to them and ask not only if they are comfortable relinquishing their devices, but how they would prefer to be moved if ya'll need to book it later. Sharing is caring.

iv. For those folks previously covered under 1E4 and 1E5of this lengthy ass post. Just adjust as needed for the “hide” command instead of “run”.

e. See section 1F, exchange “hide” for “run”... I might cry if you make me go point by point again.

3. FIGHT: Do I need to elaborate as to what the heck I mean by this? Please remember, this is not always the last option, sometimes it is your FIRST (often only if that's the case... but not always) option. Keep in mind that there's strength in numbers, and if you fight, you need to COMMIT. Do NOT hesitate. Go full force. Unleash the beast. IT'S CLOBBERIN' TIME. The police and the military are not the only people who are allowed to use force for self defense. I may do another series on this later.

Uncommon weapons include fire extinguishes (honestly the best ones, and probably my personal favorite), office supplies, and mobility aides. Anything heavy and/or with good bludgeoning potential. Naturally, fists and other bits are good for fighting as well. This bit will be shorter... Hopefully. I will admit this will be more successful with one shooter, but hey... it's worth a try.

Times you need to fight.

a. The shooter is right near you (read: within swingin' distance) and you see them start to swing up what will probably be an assault weapon (unless our government and/or our culture DRASTICALLY changes it's shit) at yourself or a group of people with no provocation (I swear, this is probably the only country where I have to go on to “no provocation” instead of ending at “assault weapon” BECAUSE GUESS WHAT FUCKING COUNTRY WHERE IN SEVERAL STATES YOU GET TO OWN SUCH SHIT AS A CIVILIAN, IN FUCKING PUBLIC, AND COULD BE CHARGED WITH ASSAULT IF YOU PHYSICALLY THROW HANDS BECAUSE YOU'RE “INFRIGINING ON MY SECOND AMENDEMENT RIGHTS/GODGIVEN RIGHT TO OWN A GUN”... I'm not sorry for the tangent there... fucking fight me). Don't bother to run and/or hide. If you run away, you'll get a bullet in your back. If you hide when they can fucking see you do it... guess where they're going to go first once they mow down people in the general vicinity. The best you can do not only for yourself and everyone else is to clock this ass in the head and/or body or tackle the mother fucker. Even if you end up dying in the attempt, your distraction may give more folks time to save themselves by using the aforementioned steps, and if you incapacitate them so they are laid out long enough, by the time they've recovered the popo might be on their way to neutralize them.

b. You are near-ish to the shooter (read: short walking distance) from said shooter and they have not taken you out yet. BULL RUSH THIS FOOL. If someone took initiative to commit to 3A, you might have a good chance of legit subduing them. Again there is strength in numbers, especially if there's only one shooter. They can only aim in so many directions at once (read: one).

c. You are hiding and they are able to get the door open. If you had to hide while you heard shots, as I mentioned, make sure as soon as you do your best at barricading yourself in there, silently arm yourself, the position yourself to be against the wall where the door is placed. This will give you an extra moment to ambush them as you will not be in immediate sight when they first open the door. Here you will have more time to find weapons. If there is more than one fire extinguisher, use one to spray them in the fucking eyes and the other to bash. If there are folding chairs, fold them and pretend the shooter is Mick Foley... or Chris Benoit. Take your pick. Monitors, laptop computers, and other office supplies are good, too. For those in class, unless instructed otherwise, in high school and above I would suggest finding something, too. I have not seen anything more scary than a teenager angered to the point of physical violence. USE THAT TO YOUR ADVANTAGE.

d. For my disability community folks, mobility aides are fucking awesome. Oxygen tanks are fucking amazing. You have more power in this situation than most folks do. YOU. ARE. ALREADY. ARMED. And for all of my folks with disabilities, I cannot stress enough how important it is to take a self-defense class. We are seen as a vulnerable population and assholes of the armed and unarmed variety will take advantage of this.

Let's show them we're not.

Some special notes: unless you are an expert professional at restraining folks while they are able to fight back, do not attempt to do so until they are unbefuckingconscious and the gun(s) are well away from their person. Stay with them until help arrives. If they come to, kick them and/or use your mobility device/any other weapon you managed to get your hands on to bludgeon them in the head.

If you happen to kill them at any point during this... Whoops.

When the help does arrive be warned you will be probably asked (in a very loud and terrifying fashion) to lie face-down on the ground with your arms spread, or whatever position they ask you to do. Keep your hands clear of anything if at all possible. If you cannot comply (get on the ground, put your hands above your head, etc due to your disability) do your best and say you are doing so. You may be even taken out in zip-ties or cuffs. Keep your cool, be as compliant as possible. Shit will be sorted out later.

Please remember, you are doing this not to be a hero. You are doing this to save yourself. You are taking action, regardless of your condition(s), to increase your chances of survival, to not be a statistic, to not be a victim. Helping those around you is just a lovely side-effect.