#i am half joking hang on let me pull up actual stats

[nerice]

editing tge experience is always like. yay act one done that's 1/4th........ (THE LOOMING OF ACT 2 THAT IS 90% OF THIS SCREENPLAY :)))

[kingexpl0sionmurder]

Body Electric - Kaminari Denki - Smut

Author: @kingexpl0sionmurder Pairing: Kaminari Denki/F!Reader Rating: 18+ (contains smut) Words: 5,491 Warnings: Sex work (Cam boy/girl), Quirkless AU, Aged-up Adult characters (someone is in grad school! wow!), mentions of masturbation (both male and female), mentions of casual ShinKami, established KiriBaku, Idk they are all just really sexually liberated and don’t care about watching each other cum. Is that voyeurism? I’m bad at tagging things. Title taken from a Lana Del Rey song. AN: Another BNHarem collab piece! The theme was sex work, and I have wanted to do a camboy Denki for a long time so here we go. This was really smutty in my head but Denki makes me soft and it turned out really cute in the end, I’m sorry? He’s such a dork I feel like any sexual encounter with him would just turn out like this in some way, idk.  Thanks to @unbreakablekiribaku​ and @sailorsero​ as usual for being supportive of me. Happy birthday to @lady-bakuhoe and @burnedbyshoto​ 🎂🎂 There is no one else I would rather be birthday triplets with!

Please check out the Collab Masterlist: HERE Look 👀 at My Masterlist: HERE Buy me a Kofi if you’re scared of clowns too: HERE

---

Sighing, you sat up on your elbows, squinting at the chat on the screen, willing your heart to stop pounding and your breath to even out. The donations were pouring in, the chat moving so fast you couldn’t even read it. “Alright, lovelies, I hope you enjoyed that. Be right back and we’ll chat a little bit, okay?”

Donations popped up, the chat slowing a little as the clients who only came to jerk off to you left, leaving those who considered themselves true fans. You stood and made your way to the bathroom to pee, rinsing your toy off in the sink and washing your hands. You went back to your room, pulling on a hoodie and settling in front of the screen again.

“Alright, I’m back! I have some time for a few questions and then I have to go for the night. Let me see what we got!” You scanned the chat, ignoring the normal inappropriate questions. Mindfucker:  Do you know who Chargebolt is? Cause I heard he watches your stream.

Your heart, which had finally slowed to a normal rhythm, picked up again. You most definitely knew who Chargebolt was. You gave him a good amount of money from your donations when you watched his cam shows yourself. “I do actually, he’s pretty popular on here, isn’t he?” You sat back a little, furrowing your brows. “How do you know he watches me?”

RedDaddy: He did a Q&A and mentioned your channel! Told everyone to check you out.

You recognized the names of the viewers and knew they were also regulars on Chargebolt’s streams as well, so you believed them. Chargebolt was gorgeous and funny, just your type. The knowledge that he was interested in you enough to watch you get off on camera was flattering. You hoped your blush wasn’t showing on your face. 

“I’m surprised he knows who I am!” You had missed the last Q&A he’d done, since it hadn’t been on his normal streaming day, and you’d been stuck at work late. Leaning forward again, you bit your lip, looking into the camera from under your lashes. “Can I tell you guys a secret? I watch him, too. Why do you think I never do shows on Thursdays? That’s Chargebolt day.” With a wink you sat back, trying to will the blush from your cheeks. Mindfucker: I knew it! I bet he’s watching right now. You smiled, shrugging. “I hope he enjoyed the show, then!” You tried to hold it together, suppressing the urge to burst into a fit of giggles at the thought, answering a few more silly questions from your regulars, before signing off for the night, promising to be back again the following week.

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, leaning your head back and groaning. It was wild that the guy whose cam shows you watched on the regular, the one who had inspired you to start your own, who you thought of half the time when you were filming yourself getting off on camera for strangers, knew who you were and was one of your viewers. 

It brought you down a whole rabbit hole for a second, wondering if he got off on you getting off. Why else would he watch? Did he ever donate? You assumed he had a secondary account so you wouldn’t know it was him even if you tried to look at your past viewers, just like you had a secret account so you could watch him as well. 

Cracking your eyes open, you clicked to view the donation tallies for the evening. You’d made enough to pay the rent on your apartment for the month in just one night. Sometimes you wondered how you ever managed to survive before you started doing this. It was meant to be a temporary side job, but you’d been running this cam channel under the screen name Neko for over six months, and you had clawed your way out of debt in such a short time, it didn’t make sense for you to stop.

You viewed a few more visitor stats with interest, before logging off the computer and shutting the laptop. You had to get to sleep for your real job in the morning, so you figured it was time for bed, pushing thoughts of Chargebolt to the back of your mind for now.

It wasn’t until later when you were lying down to sleep, that you thought of him again. Your eyes closed as you ran through a scenario in your head, wondering if he would mention you on Thursday, and what would come of all this? You had noticed your viewer numbers had spiked that day, so it was definitely beneficial that you’d caught his eye. You just weren’t sure what would happen next.

--

Denki was grinning into the camera, wiping the cum off of his abs with the towel he kept beside him, his chest and cheeks flushed pink. He adjusted in his chair, tugging the toy out of his hole and chucking it to the side, pulling his boxers back up over his softening cock. “I hope it was as good for you as it was for me, babes.” 

He chuckled at the comments flooding the chat as he reached for his water and took a sip. 

Tapeman: As always, you never disappoint me, Chargebolt.

“Hey thanks, Tapeman! I appreciate you always coming to hang out...get it? Coming?”

Mindfucker: Ridiculous.

“Aw, you love me, Mindfucker.” He winked at the camera. “So, did you guys enjoy my Q&A the other day?”

The chat filled with praise, making him grin. He loved to talk to his fans, and sometimes they had some great questions for him. He knew a lot of people just watched him as a way to get off, but he liked to give a little piece of himself to them because he knew that most of the people who watched were probably lonely, and he wanted to help with that in some way. He kept things laid back, joking and laughing with his viewers before and after the show, taking requests and doing his best to remember some of the regulars. Some of the few who had been with him from the beginning he’d made into moderators to help with keeping things somewhat orderly in the chat. Some of them he actually knew in real life, like his roommate Hitoshi, who used the alias Mindfucker.

Mindfucker: So are we going to talk about Neko? Denki’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, you mean the stream the other day? It was…” He made the appropriate motion as he said it. “Chef’s kiss, immaculate. She’s so beautiful…” Trailing off, he let himself think back to the way your chest heaved and the face you made when you came. “I would do anything for her, man.”

RedDaddy: Dude, I agree! She’s also super sweet, like, the total package.

Sighing, he leaned his elbow on the desk, his cheek resting on his palm. “I am a simp, my guy.” He sat up, squinting at the chat. “She said she watches, right? Is she here right now?” He scanned the names of the viewers, frowning. “She probably has a second account. Well, if you’re here, Neko, you should hit me up. I read all of my DM’s okay?” He grinned, winking again. “Alright, I have to go feed the cats so I’m outie 5000, thanks for hanging out and I’ll see you guys next week!”

He said his goodbyes, ending the stream and sighing. He wiped off his toy with the towel and clicked through his stats for the day, smiling at some of the comments that came with the donations. Hitoshi came into his room a few minutes later, holding one of the cats, an orange tabby named Miso, in his arms. “I fed them, you don’t have to.”

Was it weird that his roommate watched him fuck himself on toys and jerk off on the internet on a weekly basis? Nope. Denki had forgone all sense of modesty when it came to sex a long time ago, and Hitoshi was the same. It helped that they fucked around on occasion, best friends who got lonely and lived together sometimes did that, he guessed. Or maybe they were weird. It was whatever, he didn’t like to think about it too much. 

“What would I do without you, Toshi?”

“Kill the cats, probably.” He deadpanned, leaning in the doorway. “Burn all the toast you try to make, buy the wrong peanut butter, eat Cheese-Itz for breakfast every day, forget to pay the cable bill.” He raised his eyebrows. “I can keep going.”

“Fuck off, I got the all-natural peanut butter once, it was an accident!” Denki threw his soiled towel into the laundry basket by the closet and picked up the toy he’d used, waving it around a bit. “Did you enjoy the stream?”

Hitoshi snorted, eyeing the dildo warily. “I didn’t really watch, I had my eye on the chat. I was looking for Neko.”

“Man, I can’t believe she’s a fan!” He waved the dildo some more, watching as it jiggled. “I would let her do unspeakable things to me.”

“Look out, your sub is showing, Denki.” Hitoshi teased. “But I agree, she’s pretty great. I wonder if she’ll ever do private shows.” Pausing to scritch Miso behind the ears, he continued. “I’m sure they’d be in high demand.”

Denki stood, pointing at Hitoshi with the dildo. He really needed to put it down somewhere and stop brandishing it around like a sword. “Don’t even, I’d spend all my money on that girl.” 

“I know you would.” He chuckled. “I did try to go through the usernames and see if I could find out who she could be, but I didn’t have any luck.”

“It’s okay! I’m leaving it up to fate now, man. If the universe wants us to know each other, we will.” He stuck his thumb towards the ensuite. “I’m going to wash my ass and then we can play Among Us if you want.”

Hitoshi, completely unphased as usual, nodded. “I’ll get a team together. Check the discord when you get out.”

Humming, Denki made his way to the bathroom, picking up his phone on the way. It buzzed as he closed the door, and he glanced down to see he had a message from his other moderator and friend, Eijirou, aka RedDaddy. Tossing the dildo in the sink, he looked down at the screen and opened the message.

Eiji: No luck on finding Neko on the stream, but she said she never misses a Thursday, so I bet she was there.

Denki: Thanks for keeping an eye out, man. I appreciate you. Among us in 30?

Eiji: Bet. I’ll ask Kats to play too.

--

Your next stream day had you feeling nervous. Chargebolt had talked directly at you on his last stream, asking you to slide into his DMs, and you had yet to take him up on it. You didn’t know what you were so scared of, Chargebolt was a nice guy. You chalked it up to the fear of the unknown. If you sent him a message, what would you even say? ‘Hey dude, nice cock?’ It was bound to be a disaster.

Pushing your nerves back down, you made sure you were ready for your stream, excited for the news you were about to drop on your viewers. You were needing a little extra cash due to some unfortunate car trouble, and you’d figured out a way to make up what you needed in record time.

“Hey everyone, welcome!” You smiled at the camera, waving your fingers. “Thanks for coming! I see a lot of familiar names here tonight. Hi Mindfucker, Dynamight, RedDaddy, Tapeman, LightningMcQueen!”

LightningMcQueen: Hey, beautiful! I’ve been looking forward to this all week.

Dynamight: Chill out, McQueen, you look desperate.

RedDaddy: Be nice, Dynamight. Hi, Neko!

Dynamight: Fuck off, Shittyhair.

Mindfucker: How’s your cat, Neko?

“Be good, Dynamight. You’re lucky I know you don’t mean that!” You giggled at the antics of your regulars, smiling at the question about your cat. “Ichigo is doing good, Mindfucker, thanks for asking! I’ll bring her on camera after the show if you want to say hi!”

Minfucker just sent a cat emoji and you laughed, shaking your head. “I’m beginning to think that you’re just here for Ichigo and not me.”

The chat went crazy with people denying it, telling you how much they loved watching you every week. You lit up, feeling more excited about your news.

“So I have something I want to discuss before we get started today. I’ve decided I want to try out doing some private shows, so I’m going to be offering up a few spots. I’m going to give some of my longest and most frequent supporters a shot first, and if all goes well, then I’ll open them up to the rest of you! I’ll be adding a signup link at the bottom of my page after tonight’s stream, so if you’re interested you can apply and I’ll pick a few of you and we’ll work out a schedule! How does that sound?”

Dynamight: McQueen already has his credit card ready I bet.

“Aw, you don’t want to play with me, Dynamight?” You teased, giving the camera your best pout.

Dynamight: You couldn’t handle me, Princess.

LightningMcQueen: Hush. You’re a bottom, Dyna.

Dynamight: Die you fucking extra.

LightningMcQueen: Love you too, blasty.

“I was going to let you pick the toy today, Dynamight, but if you can’t behave then I’m just going to have to let someone else have a turn.” You gave the camera a disapproving look, frowning. You’d picked up that these guys were friends, so you knew they were just messing with each other.

A donation popped up from Dynamight with a comment attached. 

Let McQueen choose this time, babe.

“It looks like Dynamight is going to let you choose, McQueen. Which one?” You pulled over the box you kept your toys in and showed it to the camera. “Pick a color.”

LightningMcQueen: Yellow

You pulled the yellow silicone out of the box and showed it to the chat, smirking. “I call this one Chargebolt because it’s the same color as his hair. Are you sure this is the one you want me to use?”

--

When your stream ended, Denki leaned back in his chair, taking a deep breath. The fact that he’d watched you fuck yourself with a dildo that you’d named after him was the hottest thing he could have imagined. He was jealous of that piece of bright yellow silicone more than he should be. He’d still enjoyed it, if the mess across his abs and chest were any indication. 

He cleaned himself up and pulled on a shirt, clicking on the link for the private show signup. It was pretty straightforward, listing the price and how long the show would be, and asking for his username and what he would be interested in doing or seeing and what day would work best.

Staring at the form for a moment, he contemplated his options. He could sign up with his LightningMcQueen account, and he might have a chance. He was the first one out of his friends to find your channel one night when he was bored and horny. Then he’d shown it to Hitoshi and then shared your info with Eijirou, Katsuki, and Hanta. He would be considered one of the longest and loyal viewers like you had said.

However, if you got a request from Chargebolt? What would you do? Would you ignore it? 

“Toshi!” He called out, knowing his roommate would hear him without him having to get up. “I’m having a crisis!”

The door opened, and the purple-haired man stood in the doorway. “I am not prepared to handle your bi panic right now, Denki.”

“Are you going to put in for a private show from Neko?” Denki pushed on, ignoring his friend’s exasperation. 

“I spoke that into existence last week, you know. You’re welcome.”

Flopping back in his chair, Denki closed his eyes. “Should I send in the request with this account or with the Chargebolt one?”

Hitoshi shrugged, watching their cat Sashimi wander into the room. “You’ve wanted to talk to her for ages, man. You could have messaged her forever ago and you wouldn’t be playing this game with her. Sign up with your actual account.”

“I mean, she must think I’m cute, right? Otherwise, she wouldn’t watch.” He sat up, logging out of his secondary account and into his main one. He had a few unread DM’s, so he clicked, his breath catching in his throat. “Dude, look.”

There was a message from you, short but sweet.

Hi, Chargebolt. I don’t know if you saw the stream today, but you should check it out if you haven’t. I left it up for you.”

“She wants you to see her use that dildo she named after you.” Hitoshi patted his shoulder, and then bent down to pick up Sashimi. “I signed up but I told her I just wanted to have a date with her cat. She probably won’t pick me.”

“She will, she loves cats.” Denki clicked on your page and scrolled down to the bottom where the signup was again, letting it populate his main account in the information, and writing ‘any day except Thursday’ in the section for the time that worked for him. “I’m going to get this girl to date me, just you watch.”

Snorting, his roommate closed the door behind him as he left. “I believe in you, Pikachu.”

Once his request was submitted, he went back to his DM’s and sent you a message back.

“I was there, Neko. I never miss a stream. I submitted for a private show, so I hope you’ll pick me. I’ve been one of your viewers since the beginning, you know.”

---

In your head, you tried to plan what you would say once you were face to face (via camera) with the one and only Chargebolt. Everything your brain seemed to come up with fell short. What did you say to this guy, who you’d been simping over for over 9 months, who lit up your screen every Thursday with terrible puns and panty-dropping smiles? You knew exactly what he looked like and sounded like when he came. It was a strange thing to think that you knew that but you’d never actually spoken to him before.

It made you feel a little better when you realized he knew just as much about you. That he watched you fuck yourself on a dildo you’d named after him, and then spent the rest of the stream showing off your fluffy white cat Ichigo. 

It was time to put on your big girl panties. You could do this. 

Chargebolt had been one of the few that you’d chosen to do these shows with. He was also the last one. You’d met with 4 others, the ones who were the most active in your chat, the ones you assumed were actually friends. 

Your first one was with Tapeman, who asked you to call him Sero. He was cute, with the widest, prettiest smile you’d ever seen. He made you laugh, and called you beautiful, and spoke to you in Spanish. You didn’t feel uncomfortable once with him, and the experience gave you hope that the rest would be just as nice.

Mindfucker was next, whose name was Shinsou and lowkey your favorite one. He didn’t want anything sexual at all, which surprised you. You sat with him and drank tea and you got to meet his two fur children, Miso and Sashimi, while he told you about his roommate. You let him admire Ichigo, and talked about music. He was sarcastic, but not in a mean way, and you were pretty sure he was going to be your new best friend.

RedDaddy and Dynamight had asked to do theirs together since they were dating. You wanted to question why they both watched your stream but RedDaddy, who was actually named Kirishima, answered it for you.

“We’re both bi, and we think you’re cute!”

“Yeah, plus McQueen has a thing for you so we like to be in the chat to help him out.” Dynamite, aka Bakugou, added in his gruff voice, folding his arms across his chest.

“Aw, that’s sweet!” You smiled at them. “He didn’t request a private show though, so I guess he doesn’t like me that much.”

Bakugou coughed and Kirishima grinned. “Maybe he was nervous! I’m sure you’ll meet him in one of these someday!”

“Enough about that dumbass.” Bakugou leaned forward, his hand on Kirishima’s knee. “Give us a show and we’ll give you one in return. Use that orange and green one for me, Princess.”

And give you a show they did. You got lost in how they looked at each other while they jerked each other off, and you were pretty sure they forgot you were even there at some point. When it was over, you suggested that they start their own channel.

Bakugou scoffed, but you could tell he was blushing a bit.

“I don’t know, Neko. I don’t think I could share him with anyone else. Except you, you’re the exception.” Kirishima grinned, winking at you.

But now it was Chargebolt’s turn. You made sure you had everything you needed, making sure Ichigo was out of the room, and then signed into your account. 

Chargebolt was online, so you made the private room and sent him the request. You felt like you were shaking, and you checked yourself in the camera to make sure you didn’t look like a wreck.

You barely had time to breathe before he entered the chat, his camera screen coming to life and showing you his smiling face. You melted a bit, biting your lip, gazing at how attractive he was. 

“Hey, Neko!” Chargebolt was as vibrant as ever, tucking his hair behind his ears, the black lightning bolt in his hair dark against the bright yellow of the rest of it.

“It’s nice to see you, Chargebolt.” You tried to relax, rolling your shoulders back. “It’s kind of weird knowing you can see me too.”

He laughed, leaning back in his chair. You tried not to stare at his arms in the tank top he was wearing. Chargebolt had a small frame, but his muscles were defined. You’d seen him plow through an entire bag of chips on stream once, without pausing to breathe, so you assumed he must be one of those people with amazing metabolism that you envied. “You can call me Denki if you want, kitten.”

You choked on air at the nickname, trying to compose yourself. “Kitten?”

“Well, Neko means cat, doesn’t it?” He raised an eyebrow. “I won’t call you that if you don’t like it.”

“No!” You practically shouted. “No, I mean, it’s fine. I like it.”

“Sweet.” He grinned. “Man, I’ve wanted to get you alone like this for so long, and now I’m just feeling really nervous.”

“You’re nervous?” You were surprised. The always cool but super dorky Chargebolt was nervous because of you? “So am I.”

Chargebolt- sorry, Denki, rested his elbow on the desk, propping his head in his hand. “Well, glad to know I’m not the only disaster here. I’ve been trying to get the courage to talk to you for months, and then finally Hitoshi got me to talk about you on stream a few weeks ago, and now here we are.”

“Who’s Hitoshi? One of your regulars?” Knowing that you weren’t the only one who was sweating bullets had you relaxing a bit. 

“Oh yeah, Mindfucker! You know him right? He did a thing with you the other day, didn’t he?”

Eyes wide, you stared at him. “Shinsou?”

“Yeah, that’s my best friend and my roommate. He said he showed you the cats.” He shrugged. “You picked all my friends for your private shows. Sero, Kiri, Bakugou, Shinsou.” He paused, smirking. “I forgot that you don’t know that I’m LightningMcQueen.”

“That’s you? I was wondering why they didn’t send me a request, but it all makes sense now.”

Denki shot you finger guns and winked. “Kachow!”

“Oh god, stop it.” You rolled your eyes.

He chuckled, grinning at you. “So, did Shinsou talk about me?”

You giggled, remembering back. “He told me a story about how his roommate mistook a fuzzball for a spider and spent the afternoon sitting on a table waiting for him to come home and kill it.”

“It looked like one of those freaky poisonous ones from where I was sitting. I was afraid to let it out of my sight in case it got away and then multiplied and killed me in my sleep or something.” He took a deep breath. “Spiders are terrifying.”

This man was amazing. “You are everything I always thought you’d be, you know that?”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.” He sighed. “You have to have some kind of embarrassing story to tell me so I don’t feel like a fool. You’ve got to make it even.”

“One year my dad hired a clown to come to my birthday party. He walked in the front door and I jetted out the back door and hid in the garden until he left. Clowns are just as terrifying as spiders.”

Chargebolt laughed, and the sound made your stomach do a somersault. It was just as bright and happy as he was. “That is the cutest shit I’ve ever heard!”

“I’m glad my childhood trauma is amusing you.” You deadpanned, trying to keep the smile off your face.

“Aw, don’t be like that kitten! I’m glad we can bond over our irrational fears like this, you know?” He 

You shivered happily. “Okay, okay.” You cleared your throat. “So, you didn’t write anything down here for what you wanted out of our chat today.”

“Oh, okay, down to business then.” He sat up straight. “Well, I wanted to tell you myself instead of submitting it on the form.”

Intrigued, you raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t want to give me a chance to back out?”

Snorting, and shook his head. “Nah, I think you’ll like it, kitten.” He folded his hands behind his head. “I want you to tell me what to do. I’m at your mercy.”

Swallowing thickly, you blinked at him. That was...really hot. “You like being told what to do?”

“I would love nothing more for you to pull my hair and peg me within an inch of my life while calling me your little cock slut.” He stared at you with an eyebrow raised, looking pleased with himself when he saw your expression.

Your thighs clenched together involuntarily. “Fuck.”

“Yeah, right? I mean, I’m a switch, I’d do the same to you if you asked.  But we can save that for next time.” He smirked. “So, you down?”

Next time? This man was going to kill you. “Take off your shirt, Denki.”

“Fuck yes.” He groaned, reaching behind him and tugging the garment over his head. 

His chest and abs came into view, and you let your eyes linger on the barbells through his nipples. “Pants too.”

He pushed his chair away from his desk and shimmied out of his shorts, kicking them to the side. You gazed at him in his blue boxer briefs, eyes lingering on his thin waist, strong thighs, and the outline of his cock. He was a sight to behold, honestly.

You held the fangirling back, leaning forward to get a better look at him. “Do you have any toys, Denki?”

“Of course, Kitten.” He moved out of view for a moment, coming back with a box. 

“Let me see.” He tilted the box towards the camera, your eyes flitting over the different colors and shapes inside. “The pink one.” 

“Okay, hang on, let me-” He cut off, standing up and throwing the pink toy on the bed. He picked up the laptop and moved it, laying down beside it and angling the camera so you could see what he was doing.

“Did you stretch yourself, baby?” 

He made a noise that sounded like a whine in the back of his throat at the pet name, obviously pleased by it. “Yeah, of course I did.” He glanced at the screen. “You should, uh, take your shirt off too.”

“I thought you wanted me to tell you what to do, not the other way around.” Teasing him, you crossed your arms over your chest.

He pouted slightly. “I’ve been good so far though, right?”

“All you’ve done is take off two items of clothing and move to the bed. You’re gonna have to work harder than that!”

Huffing, he lifted his ass off the bed and tugged his underwear down his legs, kicking them off, his hand already moving to wrap around his already hard cock.

“Did I say you could touch yourself, Denki?” It was getting hard to keep up the stern act you were putting on, but you knew it was what he wanted. You wanted to watch him touch himself, watch the way his eyes fluttered closed when his thumb brushed over the leaking head of his cock, and the way he would bite his lip when he moved his wrist a certain way.

You could be patient though, so you continued.

“If I was there right now, what would you want me to do first?”

He stilled, blinking at you a few times. “I would want your mouth first, I think.”

Humming, you sat back, pulling your shirt over your head, letting him admire the lacey purple bra covering your chest. “You’d want my mouth on your cock? Trace my tongue along that vein along the underside and suck on the head a little?”

Denki groaned, closing his eyes, his grip visibly tightening around his shaft. He looked like he was trying not to get worked up too fast. You were amazed at how your words were affecting him, so you pressed on.

“I’d take you all the way down until I was choking on it, and I’d let you hold onto my hair and fuck my face. God, you don’t know how many times I've dreamed about doing that for you. What would you say to that?”

The blush spreading down his neck and chest made him look so pretty. “Ugh, fuck kitten, you’re killing me.” He swallowed hard, opening his eyes to look at you again. “I’d tell you how good you made me feel, but I wouldn’t let you finish me off that way.”

“Oh no? Tell me what else you’d do.” You took the opportunity to move to the bed yourself, pulling off your leggings and panties all at once. 

Eyes glued to you while you unclipped your bra and threw it across the room, he continued. “Fuck, um, I would...god, you’re beautiful.”

Flushing at the compliment, you looked down shyly, breaking character. “I’ve heard you say that before and I still don’t believe it.”

Denki scoffed. “If you need a daily reminder, I’d be happy to be the one to tell you, kitten.” You could hear the sincerity in his voice, and it made your heart do a little flip. “I might seem like a dumbass but I’m using this camboy money to pay off my student loans for my masters in English lit so I can quote you entire sonnets from Shakespeare without hesitation if that will help you believe me.”

Your eyebrows shot up, impressed. Realizing you’d ruined the moment, you sighed, covering your eyes with your hand. “I’m sorry, I’m crap at this. I really just want to watch you cum.”

Chuckling, you heard him shifting on the bed. “Okay, how about this? Forget the toys. Just close your eyes and listen to me.”

“Okay.”

“If you were here with me right now, just like that, I’d spend so much time exploring every inch of you with my tongue. I’d start with your lips, your jaw, your neck. Collarbones, shoulders, your chest, those cute nipples-”

“How are nipples cute?” You interrupted with a snort.

You could hear him trying not to laugh, his voice pitched a bit higher. “Shh, don’t ruin it.”

“I think you just did when you said ‘cute nipples’.” You’d never had this much fun with someone in a situation like this. “If I had a dick, my boner would have just died.”

Denki wheezed, and you opened your eyes to look over at him. He was gazing back at you, his eyes bright as he laughed into his palm. “God, I like you so much, kitten.”

Your grin softened, your heart pounding at his words. “Me too, Denki.” 

[chudleycanonficfest]

The Switch

Day 10, Story #2 is by @adenei

Title: The Switch

Author: adenei

Pairing: George Weasley/Angelina Johnson

Prompt: First Date

Rating: T

TW: Mentions of character death

***********

The shop is quiet as George locks the door to his office. It’s been a month since the grand re-opening of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, and the steady thrum of customers has put the business back on track to where it was before the untimely closure due to the war. Things are different, of course, with Fred not being there, but George’s family and friends have stepped up and offered more support than George knows what to do with—not that he wanted it in the first place.

  In retrospect, he is thankful for his family and friends, Ron and Angelina in particular. They helped him put down the bottle and get his life back on track. 

  “Fred wouldn’t want this.” Angelina had told him late one night while she and Lee were staying over in his flat that smelled of days-old Firewhisky and hadn’t been cleaned since before they’d gone into hiding at Aunt Muriel’s.

  “How would Fred feel if you let everything the two of you worked for go to shit? How would you feel if the tables were turned and if it was—” Ron had yelled as he snatched the half-full bottle away from his brother and dumped it down the drain. The emotion was raw as the words caught in his throat, the end of the phrase hanging between them like the weight of a bludger pulling them down and grounding them.

  At first, he’d been pissed, but they were right. Fred wouldn’t have wanted George to resort to any of that. And even though he’d been begrudging in accepting help to begin with, George knew he wouldn’t have gotten the shop up and running as swiftly as he did without everyone’s help. The hole in his heart still ached, and not a moment went by where he didn’t miss his brother, but finding a new stride in this post-war life is exactly the push George needed to not only move on but also honor and make Fred proud.

  As George makes his way onto the main floor of the shop, a figure standing behind the counter makes him pause. He’d recognize that silhouette anywhere, the unrequited crush from his Hogwarts days now thrust back in his life, as if to taunt him of just another thing he’ll never have.

  “You’re still here?” The exhaustion is apparent in George’s voice after a ten-hour day.

  “Yeah, I wanted to make sure you didn’t stay on and try to do all the inventory yourself again like last week.” Angelina runs her fingers over the various displays of fireworks that are locked away behind the checkout area as she lightly teases George.

  “Nah, I learned from that mistake. Besides, don’t you have your regular job that you need to get back to? Now that things are running smoothly again, we’ll be able to manage without the extra help. Especially once things die down after the first.”

  “I don’t mind spending a few hours here after work, you know that. Things’ll start to pick up again soon once the Quidditch season gets underway, I’m sure, but right now, my corresponding duties are light. Call me crazy, but I’ve enjoyed spending more time with you lately. Almost makes me feel like we’re back in Hogwarts, you know? When real life and responsibilities seemed so far away.”

  A chuckle escapes George’s lips. It was true, all this time they’d been spending together, especially with Lee and sometimes Alicia, almost made everything feel right again.

  “Well, we can hang out in other places, too. I swear I don’t live at Wheeze’s.”

  “George, you live upstairs.”

“Ah, bugger off.”

  “I’m only teasing.”

  “And all I’m saying is if you want to do something outside these walls, all you have to do is ask.”

  “Are you hungry, then?”

  A genuine laugh bubbles up into George’s throat at Angelina’s brazenness. “Bloody hell, woman! Impatient much?”

  His outburst brings a smile to Angelina’s face, brightening the dark circles under her eyes from the extra hours spent helping out. 

  “You’re the one who said to ask. So, what do you say? Fancy a drink and a meal down the street? It’s late enough that the Leaky shouldn’t be too busy.”

  “I s’pose it couldn’t hurt. Beats making something for myself, that’s for sure.”

  “Great, let’s go.” 

  Angelina walks around the counter and reaches out to take George’s hand in hers. An electric shock shoots up his arm from the point of contact, and George has to stop himself from pulling away from the surprise of it all. A memory flashes through his mind of twinkling lights amongst a silver backdrop in the Great Hall all those years ago. He sees two figures dancing and twirling to the music of the Weird Sisters, one with flaming red hair much like his own and the other whose sapphire gown swished against the travertine floor. The memory brings a reminiscent smile to his lips as Angelina tugs him out the door.

  When they reach the Leaky, the pair settles into a quiet booth in the back of the establishment, away from curious eyes. It’s late in the evening for a meal, which is made evident by the empty tables and chairs scattered throughout the pub. Only a handful of patrons litter the bar, allowing Tom to be attentive to their needs. 

  George takes a large swig when the barkeep returns with Butterbeers, and they place their orders.

  “No shot of Firewhisky tonight then?” 

  George shakes his head. “I told you, Ange, I was serious about stopping. I can’t use the bottle as a crutch for grief anymore.”

  Angelina nods as she observes him intently. George can feel the heat of her gaze trailing over him as he takes another sip from his drink. 

  “You’re staring.”

  “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

  “Oh? And here I was thinking I was mesmerizing you with my dashing good looks,” George quips. 

  Angelina smiles, and for a moment, George thinks he sees a blush on her cheeks before she recovers.  For all the time they spent together during Hogwarts, and more recently in the months following the war, George finds it odd that they’re struggling with conversation now.

  “Knut for your thoughts?” asks George.

  “Just that it’s been nice reconnecting with you. And Lee. Circumstances are shit, of course, but with my hectic schedule during Quidditch season, I don’t get much time for socializing and friends. I even had to drop my registration for the semi-pro league I was hoping to play for.”

  George nods, and his stomach twists as he processes her words. That would mean she’d be leaving soon once things got busy. He’s overcome with the urge to see if her job is something she’s passionate about.

  “Do you love it? Your job, I mean.”

  “Well, yeah, if I can’t play professionally, the next best thing is writing and commentating. Plus, I’ve gotten to see the world all on the Ministry’s dime. Can’t complain there…”

  “But is it something you see yourself doing for a long time?” George presses. He doesn’t mean to sound judgmental, but he needs to know if it’s even worth it to pursue.

  “Well, after graduation, it seemed like the right fit. The opening was there, my parents were encouraging me to see the world, and I didn’t have anything tying me down. Honestly, I think my parents thought it was safer for me to travel, especially with the war on...”

  And what about now? 

  George is nodding his head up and down while the question ricochets in his mind. He opens his mouth, gathering the courage to allow the four words to escape his mouth when Angelina interrupts him.

  “Well, there are some openings that would allow me to stay in London that have just come up. They’re looking for commentators and stats writers for the matches played in the Kensington stadium. So, if you needed an extra hand at the shop, I could stay—”

  “—I don’t want you to stay for the shop. If you want to travel the world, you should. I doubt you’ve seen all the world has to offer in two seasons.”

  No! What are you thinking! 

  George can almost hear Fred chastising him for his rash response. It doesn’t come out the way he meant it to sound, and he knows he messed up given the crestfallen look on Ange’s face.

  “I only meant—”

  “I-I’ve actually already put in for the London job, George. And I promise it’s not because of the shop. Lee promised to help me with commentating, and this way I can play again. I start training next week. You know how much I missed playing Quidditch, and now that England is safer, I can stay and have the best of both worlds.” 

  The longer she goes on, it feels like she’s rambling and going on with a laundry list of pre-prepared reasons, which doesn’t sound like the Angelina he knows. It’s almost like she’s trying to convince herself that those are the reasons she’s staying, and not for anything else.

  “Oh.”

  Ange rolls her eyes. “Don’t worry, I know you and Fred always used to think you two were the center of the universe, but I promise I didn’t choose to stay just for you.”

  Her voice is light, and she’s smiling, but George can’t help but sense something else lingering beneath the surface. Disappointment, perhaps? Or maybe he’s just reading into things too much. Hoping something might be between them that really isn’t. He forces himself to stop overthinking and simply enjoy her company instead.

  “Well, I, for one, am happy you’re staying. We’ll be able to get together more often, and it’ll almost feel like our Hogwarts days. Maybe I’ll even be able to convince you and Alicia to test new products again.”

  Angelina nearly spits out her Butterbeer at George’s joke as Tom approaches with their meal. He knows he’s not fooling either of them; the irony is that the girls were always two steps ahead of him and his brother. They were the only two in their year who managed to avoid becoming test subjects to all of their prototypes.

  The two fall into more reminiscing as they tuck into their fish and chips. George doesn’t realize how ravenous he is until he starts eating, and he’s even more grateful for Ange’s suggestion now.

  As they are polishing off the remainder of their baskets, the topic of conversation falls on the Yule Ball, as Ange remembers how Fred had tossed the wad of paper at her.

  “It was romantic, wasn’t it?” George jokes as he remembers his brother’s ridiculous attempt at asking a girl out. “Still don’t know why you said yes to that tosser.”

  To this day, he’d always resented his brother for drawing his wand first and asking Ange to the ball. Of course, George knew it was all meant to be a bluff. It was Fred’s attempt to get his brother to buck up the courage and ask Angelina for himself. 

  George remembers it vividly. “Just ask her. What’s the worst she’ll say? No? Fine, if you won’t do it, I will.”

  When Fred had gotten Ange’s attention, George had no idea what to expect. They were usually well in tune with each other, and George could anticipate Fred’s moves, but when his brother had asked Angelina himself, it took George by surprise.

  “We were getting down to the wire, weren’t we?” Angelina interrupts George’s thoughts. “No one else had asked me, so I figured it was better to go with one twin than none at all.”

  George chooses the wrong moment to polish off the last of his chips. The fried potato catches in his throat, and he coughs it up, all while reaching for the last dredges of his Butterbeer to clear things out.

  Did she just say it was better to go with one twin than none at all? But then that would mean… 

  “Ange, don’t tell me you were waiting for me to ask you.”

  She shrugs and averts her eyes from his gaze. “I mean, I wouldn’t have been disappointed if you’d asked, let’s put it that way.”

  After this revelation, George burst into laughter. To anyone else in the near vicinity, it probably sounded like he should be admitted to the Janus Thickney Ward. He hasn’t laughed this hard since he and Fred were able to pull off a prank on Muriel shortly after arriving at her Manor at the end of March.

  “You—Fred—I—me—” He can’t seem to formulate a coherent string of thoughts until Angelina goes from amused to offended.

  “Honestly, George, I didn’t realize it was that funny. Forget I said anything.” She checks her watch and gathers her bag. “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all. It’s getting late, and clearly the thought of the two of us together appalls—”

  She’s in the process of standing up when George sobers from the onslaught of irony and reaches out to grab her wrist.

  “Ange, wait. I’m not laughing at that. Just—just give me a chance to explain, yeah?” He pulls her into the bench beside him, where she lands on her bottom harder than she needed to as she lets out a loud huff of indignation.

  “Fred never intended to go with you when he asked.”

  “Excuse me?” Her eyebrows have raised so high on her face that George is surprised they haven’t gotten lost in her braids.

  “No, what I mean is, he’d been pestering me to ask you since the ball was announced. He knew I had a thing for you—obviously—and was being supportive.”

  It felt weird for George to admit that he fancied Angelina in school now, after so many years of keeping it close to his chest. Fred and Lee were the only two who ever knew.

  “So, what are you trying to say, then?”

  “When Fred asked you...I was shocked, too. I didn’t realize he’d already devised a plan that I didn’t cotton on to right away.”

  The look on Angelina’s face transformed from defensive to shock to comprehension, all in the span of a few seconds. “Don’t tell me…”

  “Being an identical twin has—er, had—its benefits.”

  “So.. are you trying to tell me that I didn’t go to the ball with Fred?”

  “Nope.”

  “And at the end of the night, when I kissed Fred in an attempt to make you jealous, I was actually kissing you all along?”

  “Sorry if it was disappointing.” The wisecrack escapes George’s lips before he can stop it.

  Half of him is expecting Angelina to slap him for the ‘switcheroo’ that he and Fred pulled, and in fairness, they deserved it. What if Ange actually had fancied Fred, and they’d pulled one over on her?

  But to his surprise, Angelina does the opposite. She leans in and kisses George right then and there. The same shock he felt when holding her hand earlier ignites within him once more as he lets his body take control. He allows himself to get lost in the feel of her lips, realizing that it’s the first time he’s truly felt like himself since Fred’s passing. He even dares to let himself think he’s found happiness again.

  Eventually, George pulls away as his lungs begin to burn from the lack of oxygen. They remain close, foreheads touching as he offers a weak smile. 

  “Y’know, I was going to tell you it was me at the end of the night, but how could I when I thought I was going to break your heart when you thought you’d kissed Fred?”

  “You’re insufferable, you know that?” 

  “Yeah, but you can’t argue with sixteen-year-old George’s logic, can you?”

  Ange rolls her eyes and leans back. George misses the contact as soon as it’s gone.

  “What do you say we get out of here?” Ange raises her eyebrows in question as if tempting him to follow when she scoots out from the bench a second time.

  George pulls enough money to cover their meals out of his wallet and leaves it on the table before scooching out behind her. He pays no mind to the remaining customers as he pulls Angelina back into him and whispers in her ear,

  “I’d say we’ve wasted five years of pointless pining to wait any longer.”

[fandom-collective-writers]

a two player game | obey me | leviathan

title | a two player game fandom | obey me! character | leviathan genre | smut, mild comedy? (situational)  warnings | includes sexual activities kinks | tentacles, bondage, suspension, sensory deprivation intended gender audience | female pov | second word count | 2869 words (haha, 69)  written by | @mythiica requested by | @jennacat84​ other comments | i return, and ofc it’s with smut. this turned out pretty well! there’s more banter than usual and i had a grand time writing it

“And what are you doing with this game~?” 

It’s an innocent enough question until Leviathan tips his head back to glance at the game in question. 

“How did you sneak hentai into the House of Lamentation? I would have expected Lucifer to have some anti-porn devil dog to confiscate these types of things.” Your fingers are perfectly curled over the main character’s lewd expression as she’s ravaged by… tentacles. 

“Uh–” 

You smile slyly and drape your arms over his shoulders as the blush settles across his cheeks. 

“I got it as part of a promotion. People pay me to review games, y’know.” It’s the best excuse he can give really, but he is at fault for not hiding it better. “Now give it here so I can put it inside of my desk. If Mammon finds this, I’ll hear about it for the next century.” Leviathan paws at the box, but you hold it just out of reach. 

“You haven’t opened it.” “It’s a two player game.” “You plus me equals two.”

Leviathan laughs a bit and scratches the back of his neck. “Very perceptive. You don’t even know what the game is about.” 

“Play as Haru or control the tentacle monster that has her locked up in its underwater dungeon. Win the game by resisting the orgasms or by bringing the second player to their knees,” you read from the back of the case. “Sounds easy enough. Wouldn’t it be funny if you were getting pegged by tentacles though, and I was the one to control them?” 

Levi finally manages to swipe the game from your hand and sets it down on a stack of papers. “You’re into that? I think we skipped over that in last week’s kink-meeting.” The demon laughs at his own joke. (There had not, in fact, been a kink meet between the two of you, but it makes you giggle as well.)

“You never asked! I’d be down to try it with you.” 

His nose brushes against yours gently and his hand finds yours. As Levi’s fingers lace with yours, you reach for the box with your opposite hand, click it open, ignore the surprised hey! and hold on tight so that the game absorbs the two of you. 

Maybe you jinxed it when you teased Levi about getting pegged, because now you’re the one bound and half suspended in the air. When you try to move your wrist, the kelp-like ties around your wrist only grow tighter. “Kinky,” you mutter under your breath. 

There’s a loud crashing sound outside of your cell, but it is quickly followed by Levi’s familiar voice. He looks damn good as a merperson: dark purple hair floats just above his shoulders, an iridescent tail, and of course (likely the best scene of them all) his more-than-usual pronounced abdominal muscles flecked with purple scales. 

“Finally! I found you– I’ve been going through this maze for ages, just looking for you.” 

“Did you miss the sign that says ‘human sex prisoner here’? Maybe turn the neon lights on.” 

This earns a laugh from Leviathan before he leans against a pillar. “You look good,” he comments, checking you out in the same manner you had. When your face turns into a quizzical frown, Levi fetches one of the mirrors on the other side of the room. Upon holding it up, you realize he’s not entirely wrong. You are sporting a half ripped bikini top (calling it meager would be generous) and a sheer skirt that hangs from your hips. 

“Are we underwater?” 

“Technically, yes– at least according to the game we’re meant to be. Don’t question things too much, this game is still in its beta stages.” He pushes his bangs back and fusses with one of his gold rings. 

“Oh, I see.” You continue to hang in place. “...What now?” 

Leviathan lifts a hand. “Well… you read the instructions. Either you cum and I win, or you hold out and win.” 

It takes a moment before you hear similar crashing noises. Swallowing hard, you turn your head back and see shadows darting around in the shadows. Finally, they emerge into the light: tentacles. They’re not attached to anything in particular. In fact, you can’t tell where they have come from, but your attention is quickly pulled back towards Levi. 

He grasps your chin with one hand and smiles almost devilishly. “Y’know, I was going to be nice, but you were so cocky that I think I’ll just edge you and make you cum.” Levi has the ability to control these tentacles, and suddenly, you’re being held in place by said appendages rather than the kelp bindings. 

“So, what, you’re going to take meme with your fancy new toys?” 

One of the limbs climbs up your right leg, pulling your thighs apart. It doesn’t feel sticky in particular, but you can’t help but yelp at the sharp sensation of cold air hitting your now semi-exposed cunt. You yelp meekly and try to keep your legs closed, but there is no way you can overpower the tentacles. 

Levi makes his way over to you and brushes his fingers over your collarbone. “Hm.. I think I will. This will be entertaining, no?” He lowers his head slightly to press a kiss to your lips. “Tell me if it hurts, alright? There might be some glitches because of the game.” 

You’re not entirely sure how he’s controlling the tentacles, but before you can manage a response, one begins to prod at your entrance. It’s cold and sticky, but makes you moan nonetheless. “Levi!” 

“What, did you orgasm just from that? I’m only testing things out.” 

“Get on with it–” 

“Oh? Gladly..” Levi covers your eyes with his hand and keeps the other at your jaw. Driven by a seemingly animalistic urge, he presses his hips against yours while stealing wet kisses from your lips. The tentacle moves in sync with Levi’s motions: every body roll translates to a languid stroke from the extra appendage. When he captures your nipple with two fingers, a suction cup finds your clit and pulls at it teasingly. 

It’s a plethora of sensations, all at once, and is almost overwhelming. You’re being ravaged by Leviathan and his tentacles at the same time, but the worst part is that you can’t even see his beautiful expression as he wrecks you. How could anyone last in a game like this? 

Saliva dribbles from your swollen lips and you open your mouth to say something, call his name– anything to warn him that your underwater tryst might come to an end faster than you could have anticipated. 

A pathetic moan rolls off your tongue, but it’s cut short when something smacks your ass. Another tentacle?! How many are there?! 

Not that you could count them, even if you wanted to, because Levi keeps his hand firmly over your eyes. It’s torture at this point, feeling every little thing and listening to the intense lewd sounds, but not being able to see them. 

“Levi,” you whine with desperation. “I can’t see– I want to see you.” 

“Eh?” He moves his hand back, and you nearly squeal with delight at his expression. Leviathan is blushing more than usual, as if he’s feeling pleasure from what the tentacles are doing to you. “Better? Does it hurt?” 

You shake your head. “You’re so cute…” 

“Cute?” Levi huffs. “I’m fucking you with tentacles made of pixels and you call me cute?” Now he laughs a bit and a few suction cups stick to your ass, pulling your cheeks apart. “I can’t do you anally though, that’s Level 2.” 

Now you’re the one laughing, tears prickling in the corners of your eyes. “Are you serious?” 

“Yes, I actually am. No matter who wins, with each level increase, more toys and positions are unlocked. That’s kind of smart actually.” 

“But Levi, don’t you want to put your tentacle in my ass?” 

This makes him shiver, and you know what the answer is. Regardless, it seems like any attempts to make the tip of the tentacle get closer to your second hole, nothing happens. With a pensive sigh, your hips meet the side of his tail so that you’re grinding on both Levi and the tentacle simultaneously. “This will have to do.” 

Up until this moment, the tentacles hadn’t actually entered you, but instead danced around your hole and focused on your clit. However, your momentary leap of authority gives him a figuratively boner, since he doesn’t technically have a visible dick. It might be in his tail somewhere… but you aren’t about to ask where he’s hiding his cock. That would be weird. 

“Hey Levi?”

He grunts back in response, obviously focused on other things. 

“Do you think you can penetrate me? I’m sure you’ll win if you do–”

“It’s not as easy as you think– I have to give each thing something to do or my stats drop.” “You have stats?!” You lean back slightly and eye Leviathan. 

“Yeah, just flex your palm.” You give Levi a flat stare. “It’s kind of difficult to do that when my wrists are bound.” 

The tentacle holding your right hand releases slightly, giving you enough room to do as he’s suggested. A small screen appears in front of you. “Moaning level 2, cockwarming level 1– wait I can change the size of my breasts?!” 

Levi pauses for a moment long enough to look at the small screen. “Oh, yeah, I had dick options too, but I didn’t mess with them yet.” 

This makes you blink a few times in astonishment, thinking that this game is far more complicated than the first one you played. You want to look through the menu more and see what other things you can do– your mind drifts to the actual purpose of the game. Could there be a power up that would help you resist the tentacles? 

Before you can continue scrolling, the slick sound of something penetrating you fills your ears. He’s done what you’ve asked him to, and is absolutely merciless about it. Now that Levi’s found a way to fuck you hard, he’s not going to let up any time soon. In fact, chances are that he won’t stop until the Congratulations, you’ve made your bitch cum screen pops up over his head, if that’s even how the game works. 

A string of curses fly off your tongue, meant to be praises than anything else, but you don’t hear your own voice. “Why don’t it let me say ----?!” you screech, dragging your fingernails across Levi’s bare shoulders. “I just wanna moan for you, Levi–” 

“Curse words are censored, but that’s stupid, I don’t know why. Is it possible you changed the settings?” 

You’re frustrated now because, now you’ve finally accepted that you’re his and the stupid game won’t let you call out for him. It’s not a problem for very long though, because the next thing you know, he’s kissing you. A burning sensation ignites your entire body now, and your mind can’t anchor a single coherent thought for more than a few moments at a time. 

The strangest thing: it actually feels like he’s the one fucking you. Not the tentacles, but rather, it feels the same as if Leviathan were fucking you in his bed. This makes you happy, so happy that saliva begins to dribble down your chin as the inevitable pressure of an orgasm starts to fill your lower abdomen. You arch your back in such a way that the bikini straps give away, releasing your breasts from the fabric. 

Next thing you know, you’re subconsciously grinding against the biggest tentacle– the one fucking your mercilessly– in search for more delicious friction for your clit. At this point, it doesn’t matter who wins or loses, you just really want to cum and see if those tentacle things of his will splurt out some cum. 

“Levi–”

“Hm?” His lips dance over the crook of your neck, and the last thing you need now is for him to suddenly decide to be all daddy-merman. You bet anything that his tongue is wetter than your pussy is right now, and the way his teeth graze over your skin–

And then you’re cumming. 

Something breaks inside of you, and then it feels as though you’re drowning but breathing at the same time. Is it part of the game? Is this what a simulated orgasm feels like? Your body pulsates like never before and you understand the appeal of sex games. Another moment passes and your mind goes blank, but only for a second because you feel the budding warmth of seed running down your legs. 

So the tentacles can cum.

You manage to find the minimal strength it takes to just open your eyes, and you’re met with Leviathan’s beautiful expression as he crashes down from his high as well. He freezes for a split second, almost as if the game is glitching or overloading from the sheer impact of both orgasms taking place. You pray that he remains like this for just a bit longer, giving you the chance to lean your head against his chest. 

Levi’s skin is soft, but covered with a thin, inexplicable film of perspiration. If anything, it just makes you giddy again, but you’re not sure that either of you could last for Level 2 in this sorry condition. Running your tongue over his pronounced clavicle, you nip the skin there and suck on it just as he buffers for a moment and releases a painfully loud moan. 

His heart thunders loudly, echoing in your ears. It’s the only thing you can hear until his hand lands on your cheek. “Are you okay?” Leviathan’s voice grounds you, and then you realize that the tentacles are no longer in sight, but have retreated into the shadows the first emerged from. 

“Yeah… but I think you froze for a second there– we should do it again, y’know, to make sure we can review the game correctly.” 

This makes him laugh. The beautiful sound prompts a giggle from you as well, so you throw your arms around his neck for a tight hug. It doesn’t really matter that your skirt has magically disappeared, you’re pleased with the experience. 

A screen flashes in front of the two of you, but you’re actually surprised to see the congratulations message. 

“We both lost?!”

“How? I made you cum.” 

You read the small print: “Haru successfully made the sea monster cum first, but unfortunately succumbed to the tentacles.” With a huff, you scroll through and read the extended audit log of your ‘underwater’ sex adventure with Levi. “That’s bull----! Ugh! I still can’t ----ing curse!” 

Levi shushes you gently before brushing your hair back and offering you a consolation kiss. He taps the ‘return to main screen’ button, and the two of you are transported back to the real world. 

Nothing’s changed since you left: in fact, it’s only been a few minutes, according to the clock on Levi’s nightstand, that you even opened the game in the first place. Before you can say anything, Leviathan closes the box and throws it into the desk drawer. “No more hentai games for you. I need a cold shower and something to eat after that.” 

You stretch and massage your wrists. Although there is no physical evidence of the bindings, you can sure as hell feel where his tentacles kept you in place. Disappointed though, your eyes follow the outline of Levi’s body, happy to see that his normal legs have returned… with a third, very aroused, appendage sitting comfortably between the two of them. 

“Levi~” 

“Yeah?” 

“Two things. One, give it a good review, but say that I need to be able to curse when I cum.” 

He raises an eyebrow, but then nods. “And the second thing?” 

Now, you’re smiling and reaching for the bulge in his pants. “I think you need a second orgasm to take care of this, no? But no game– this one, I’ll give it to you and make sure it’s real.” 

Levi just swallows and shoos you away, calling you silly and that he doesn’t have any energy for that because he knows you’ll leave him an absolute mess. You can’t help but laugh at his reaction though, because now he’s both painfully hard and blushing brighter than a virgin on a windy day. 

“Hey Levi?” 

“What is it now?” 

You just smile and wave your hand. “No, it’s nothing like that– I was just thinking, maybe next time we’ll be in reversed positions. Wouldn’t that be fun?” 

He contemplates this for a second. “Why, you want to try and win?” 

“Well yeah!” “In your dreams, Haru.”

“I was really worried you’d moan the in game character’s name instead of mine. That would have been awkward as hell.” 

Levi extends his arm, offering you a place to sit on his lap. “I wouldn’t do that. But let’s keep this between the two of us for now. Okay?” 

You nod and nestle against his chest. Regardless of who the game declared, or didn’t, the winner, you like to think that both of you won. At least for a moment.

. 

[rebelscoundrel]

Calm Before the Storm

Before the best X-Wing pilot in the Resistance goes off gallivanting for the map to Luke Skywalker, he steals a moment of time with his favorite flight deck operator.

Poe Dameron x reader

Warnings: fluff, secret relationship, getting hot and heavy for 0.2 seconds, set right before TFA

Masterlist

The graveyard shift had never been this exciting.

The air was thick with coffee and fuel. It was a maddening dance to cross the crowded concrete floors but you managed all the same, barking stats on landing and departures to your superior. On this particular day, the goal for flight deck operators was hacking a path to the skies for the best pilot in the Resistance fleet. Poe Dameron had plenty a solo mission before, but this was the first directly from General Organa herself. 

Your fingers grazed over the screen rested on your forearm, gently prodding the pilot’s name when it popped up on your list. A memory flashed by — his hand cradling your neck, a bruising kiss on your lips — though none of the familiar warmth accompanied it. Thankfully Poe wasn’t due on the flight deck until closer to his takeoff so you’d be free from his more tangible distractions. 

But you should’ve known better. 

You heard him before you saw him, as per usual. Loud, confident footsteps were only drowned out by his voice booming down the corridor. 

“There they are! Just about the only faces I wanna see this morning.”

Poe clapped an arm on the nearest engineer as he strode up. His eyes snagged on yours and softened, grounding the two of you like a cliff among the waves of people sloshing around. Only when he was swarmed by the mechanics officers did his gaze finally abandon you. Even the sky-high pilot knew to fly under the radar. 

He turned to rallying the small crew by trading quips and high-fives in between a status check on his X-Wing. It had to be magic, you always teased, the way he could work an entire hangar with a few jokes and a smile — as if you weren’t the one to fall deepest under his spell. 

You nonchalantly tapped away on your datapad, still managing to answer duty’s call while listening to Poe’s antics. You grabbed a passing officer to relay an order and by the time you looked up again Poe was finishing his routine by hollering words of encouragement to the dispersing crowd. It was dust settling from his magic show and you strolled through it, eager to at least flash him a smile.

Poe turned and intercepted your approach like it was choreographed.

“Lieutenant.” 

“Captain. Good to have you on deck this early.”

He returned your grin and nodded left down the corridor. Your brows furrowed quizzically as you fell into step beside him, a red sea of other pilots and mechanics parting before you. This was a surprise detour, familiar though it may have been. 

“How’s my flight path?” he asked, gaze still locked forward.

The question could fall on innocent ears and go unnoticed, just like you and Poe intended. Nobody would blink an eye at a pilot and flight deck operator talking strategy. 

“Crystal clear.” Yes, came your answer. 

The walk down the corridor felt longer than usual. The distance between you and Poe was reinforced by a stiffness in your arms and a carefully calculated pace that kept him a half-step in front. Passersby would clap Poe on the back or shoulder to wish him luck and you could only hide your proud grin so much.

Finally the stream of people thinned out and a nondescript door to an empty set of quarters came into view. Poe stepped in first and once you made sure the coast was clear, you followed and locked the door behind.

“So how are –”

You captured his lips, cutting off the conversational question. Poe returned the fervor and locked his arms around to curve you closer. You cradled his jaw in both hands, stealing the kisses you couldn’t have in plain sight. The heat of his mouth and teeth scraping your lip made you sigh and finally pull back.

“Uh, hi. Sorry,” you gave his chest a sheepish pat.

“Hello to you, too.” He pecked you again before shucking off his jacket and settling onto the couch. “Glad I showed up when I did or you may have jumped me in the hangar.”

The gleam in his eye gave away his teasing and how much he actually enjoyed the attention. You followed the magnetic pull and sank next to him on your usual side of the couch, tossing your legs over his lap.

It was night and day, really – the curt, professional manner you kept with each other in public and the relaxation that melted you into the other’s touch within the confines of these quarters. It wasn’t necessarily unethical for the two of you to be together, but the optics were better if you weren’t. So the relationship only existed between the walls of this ten-by-ten room.

And every inch was worth it.

“You can kiss me again but at least lemme get my question out first.” Poe chuckled against your shove and slipped an arm around your back. “How are you? How’s the flight deck holding up?”

“The graveyard shift is antsy because we’re the ones sending you off. But they’re good, they’re ready.”

“Even the officers who scratched my flyer last week?”

You laughed and Poe basked in it, gently playing with the tips of your hair as you continued the small talk. This was what he needed – a moment alone to let loose, his hand in your hair, your thumb rubbing his other knuckles. Like you were the most normal pair in the galaxy

Like you don’t have a war to fight every hour of the day.

Poe cleared his throat when you brushed the stray curl on his forehead. “And you?”

“Hm?”

“How are you, remember?”

You scoffed and waved him off. “You’re the one going on a dangerous mission and you’re asking about me?”

Poe’s hand slowly intertwined with yours and squeezed, a warning you were used to. Please don’t deflect like we always do. So you braced yourself and finally looked into his eyes again.

“I’m fine, really.”

“You’re fine? I mean, I guess I am the one that’s going on the dangerous mission.” He was teasing again, delicately prying you open.

“Yeah, I’m fine. We’re all prepared. It’s just…”

Poe smiled knowingly and pulled you closer. “There it is. What’s wrong?”

“Is Leia sure about this?”

“Is she ever not sure about something?”

You knew he was joking. Both of you were, you’d never underestimate or distrust your general. But the gravity of the mission was finally weighing on you now that you had Poe in your arms. Your resolve crumbled, showing the cracks underneath that you’d wanted to keep hidden.

“Poe, I’m terrified,” you whispered. “For you, for the whole Resistance…”

Poe sighed and tugged you into his chest. His hands cradled your neck and shoulders as he closed his eyes, memorizing every touch and smell. The crook of your neck muffled his words but you heard his confession all the same.

“I am, too.”

The planet seemed to freeze for a moment, giving you respite to breathe each other in. Only when an announcement from the comms system blared just outside the door did the trance break.

You leaned back, heart and mind clearer as you pushed an accusatory finger into Poe’s chest. “I need you back alive and well, Captain.”

“Wouldn’t dream of otherwise, Lieutenant.”

***

“Hey Lieutenant, we’ve got an unauthorized craft incoming.”

You turned sharply, striding over as the officers cleared away from the flight deck command desk. A battered freighter popped up on the green display showing no Resistance markings. You nodded at the comms officer to make contact.

“Incoming VCX-100,” you enunciated into the microphone, “identify yourself or we will be forced to take action. I repeat, identify yourself or we will be forced to take action.”

The reply transmission was rife with static and you only caught the last few words. “…clear the goddamn runway.”

Your heart stopped.

“Was that Captain Dameron?” the comms officer asked.

Datapad tossed aside, you sprinted to the hangar entrance and punched the main deck comms unit. “Clear a path! That freighter’s landing, get outta the way!”

The flight deck sparked to life and people scrambled back and forth around your unmoving stance. You were enraptured with the freighter and the dark line of smoke streaming behind it as it moved closer. Ever since the Resistance lost contact with Poe on Jakku, X-Wings had plagued your dreams as your every fiber prayed for his return.

The freighter wasn’t expected, but it would do. You took off down the runway.

The craft finally landed with a crunch and the rusting door came screeching open. With the tattered shirt hanging off his frame, Poe emerged and took a relieved gulp of D-Qarian air. Your boots thundered with your approach and he split into a mile-wide grin.

“Poe! Oh my god.”

You crashed into his waiting arms, laughing in disbelief. His curls were caked in dust and the blood streaking his cheek probably rubbed off on you, but who could care when he was back in your embrace. He buried his face in your neck and sighed, gripping you like you were a mirage that could disappear.

Turns out you feared the same thing. Without thinking, you kissed him hard. Like no one was watching.

Even though the entire base was watching.

“Shit…” you murmured.

Poe shook his head, smiling an inch from your lips. “I think it’s a good welcome home present.” He kissed you again with a hand on your cheek as a guide.

You were so wrapped up in each other that you missed the muttering down the runway and in the hangar. “I told you,” “finally,” “wait, since when?” A few handfuls of credits were passed back and forth, settling bets laid long ago.

Though with your forehead rested on Poe’s, you would contend that you won the grand prize.

[quirkfics]

morning announcements

wordcount: 2.3k warnings: Pro!Sero Hanta, no ships, trying to be a role model, bad puns and jokes author’s note: OOF, apparently I was going to try to keep my Cellophane zine piece to myself forever. So, surprise!! Have some Sero adventures <3

Sero figures he has about maybe a minute and a half before his PA realizes he skipped out on the agency’s morning announcements. It doesn’t seem to matter that he’s on top of it all already - he does read the news, and all of the agency emails, thanks very much - his PA is just a menace. All he’s scheduled for anyway is some routine patrolling. He pops another orange slice in his mouth as he slips into his office, leaving all the lights off, and heads straight for the balcony.

It’s not exactly a secret, his hiding out here. Plenty of the offices have balconies - easy exits for heroes are often a must - but Sero is probably the only one of the top floor that uses his balcony this way. It’s yet another thing that drives his PA up the wall. 

“Sixty and counting,” Sero mutters to himself, glancing at the clock on the wall. He rushes through eating his last slice and pushes the sliding glass door open. He’s probably going to be hearing about this for the better part of the next two weeks, so he might as well make it good, right? He hitches a leg over the balcony railing, wipes his mildly sticky fingers on his hip, and then swings the other leg over, carefully balancing on the edge. He’s fairly sure he hears yelling coming from the elevator down the hall, and a wide smile starts to pull at the corners of his mouth. “A little ahead of schedule?” He wonders aloud, sliding his phone out of a compartment on his belt. He’d purposefully switched it to silent, but the screen is covered with message notifications. With a sigh and a shake of his head, Sero slips it back into the compartment, snaps it closed, and waits. 

The office door is thrown open, barely a moment later, ricocheting off of the wall with a clatter. It nearly slams his PA back out of the room. Sero wants to cackle at the sight, but he holds himself back, simply smiling widely as his PA finally comes to a fumbling stop. Their arms are curled protectively around a clipboard and an uneven stack of paper, shoulders heaving as they attempt to catch their breath. He waits until their eyes land on him, slit pupils gone wide in the dark, and gives a little salute before he jumps off the railing, shooting tape straight at the building across the street. It catches with a small snick against an industrial pane of glass, going taught enough for him to angle a good swing down the street - far away from his PA.

There’s an angry shout of “CELLOPHANE!” that momentarily fills the air, before he laughs, shooting another length of tape that swings him too far away to hear anything else they might be saying. 

Civilians down below startle as his shadow zips over them, but he catches sight of one or two that wave and call out encouraging things. At least, he thinks they do. Sero can’t quite hear anything but tone when he’s swinging between buildings at such a fast pace. He catches sight of a crowd of middle schoolers getting close to a stoplight a few streets up though, and decides he may as well get a little meet-and-greet out of the way early in his day. He swings to the building on the corner, shoulders straining as he whirls, and then lets himself drop. Sero’s left elbow grows a little hot, producing so much tape, so fast, but landing amidst the crowd of kids is beyond worth it. 

“It’s Cellophane!” One of them is crying, little voice echoing with happiness. The sudden cacophony as they clamor for his attention has Sero grinning at them, one arm still raised, where his tape is still attached to the above building. A few adults, and a tourist family across the street, linger in the area. Most of them have small smiles on their faces due to his antics, but one old man skirts the crowd of kids, scowling.  

“Hey guys!” Sero greets the children, making to wave, and then chokes out a grunt. He overacts the jerk of his arm when the adhesive of his tape holds strong, leaving his arm awkwardly angled in the air. The kids laugh, even the ones who’d initially taken a few steps back. “Dang. You little heroes want to give me a hand here?” Sero glances around at the sea of bobbing heads, but waits until he catches a few choruses of “Yes!!” before he gestures them closer. “Either side there, kiddos, grab tight onto my forearm, and on the count of three, you’re going to help pull really hard, yeah?” The kids line up, quick to action, and latch onto one another. The two kids at the front of the line have just started to wrap their tiny little hands around his arm, when Sero feels a rather strong tug on his tape. It jerks his elbow upwards, sharply out of the kids grasp and a sinking feeling fills Sero’s stomach as he lifts his head. Maybe, just maybe, Sero should have stayed to listen to the morning announcements. 

A fairly nondescript man is hanging onto the edge of the building, feet braced on the corners. One hand is flat against the glass, while the other holds Sero’s length of tape aloft, wrapped securely around his palm. Some kind of sticking quirk? Sero has the time to think, but immediately amends his assessment when he spies the barbs down the guys forearm. They look sharp enough, and are apparently strong enough to dig into the quirk-resistant glass and hold him up. Whatever his reasons for trying to start something with a pro, Sero knows he needs to get far away from the kids. Now. 

“Really?” Sero deadpans, mouth curling into a frown. The man - villain, Sero supposes he should call him - sneers down at him, arms starting to tense, and Sero mutters a quick: “Everyone, south down the street. Stat.” The kids start to back up, but none of them move far, so Sero raises his voice again, tone petulant. “Come on, bro! Can’t you see I’m with a group of ki-”

The villain jerks his hand upward, sneer sharp and menacing, and Sero is lifted clean out of the crowd of kids. It’s startling, even though he was expecting it, but a quick retraction of his tape makes it look like he goes flying through the air. Some of the kids down below scream, but they’re scattering, and the nearby adults are ushering them out of harm's way, so Sero will count all of this as a win. Sero lets the villain pull him nearly halfway up the building before he snaps his arm straight, grabbing the length of tape to halt the tugging, and braces his feet against the windows.

“Rude! If you were looking for someone to play with, you could have just asked!” Sero says, pasting on a huge grin for any onlookers. Truth be told he’s kind of worried - he’s having to strain his arm, just a bit, to keep the guy from pulling him any further and he would really like to take a glance at those messages from his PA. “So, man, what are we looking to play? Kick the can? Cops and robbers? I’m kind of partial to-”

The villain opens his mouth and hisses and, wow. Okay, it’s never nice to rag on mutation quirks, but the mandibles hiding in the guys mouth are startling. And dripping. 

“Come on,” Sero groans, wiping away a drop of saliva. “Have you ever heard ‘say it, don’t spray it’?” Sero is ready to keep going, but the guy looks livid, and hauls his arm back, making Sero lose his footing and bounce face-first against the windows. He’s going to bruise now, damn it, and his shoulder is aching something fierce. “Maybe you have heard it, then,” Sero groans, rubbing awkwardly at his nose. Time to cut loose, he decides, unless he’d rather risk those barbs in his face. Those suckers look sharp, which means the guy might be able to cut through Sero’s tape, if he isn’t quick about it.

“Good thing I am quick about it,” he mutters, and tears his tape. He drops, and screams echo through the street from adults and children alike, before Sero aims his tape at the building across the road and swings over.

Sero rips his phone out of his belt compartment, flips up his visor, and looks for the last missed call, which, just like he thought, is from his PA. “I really need to start calling them by name,” he mutters to himself, clicking the CALL button. It doesn’t even get through one ring before they’ve answered, and he’s fairly sure that if they weren’t an employee, they would be cursing him out right about now.

“Cellophane, you can’t just - ”

“I see all the errors of my ways, and it’s likely that I may owe you a gift basket, but more importantly: the announcements this morning. Did they happen to cover anything about a guy with mandibles?” Sero asks, eyes darting back to the villain, who seems to be yelling something about heroes never minding their own business.

“Let me guess,” they say wearily, “you’ve met him.”

“Oh yeah,” Sero assures them, angling his elbow so he can grab the tape connected to the building. His shoulders are already aching and it isn’t even noon. “He was really eager for a friend. Got anything for me?”

“One day I will leave you out to dry,” they snap. “But I do, actually. Police went to bring him in after a domestic dispute, but instead of coming with the officers, he chose to fight his way out. Two officers are in the hospital for minor puncture wounds. The barbs on his arms are very sharp and resilient, but that’s it. His quirk is Leaping, because his legs - ”

The villain drops from the side of the building, catching himself a few feet from the ground with his barbs, and a horrible rending noise fills the air as they scrape down the glass. He’s heading for the kids, Sero realizes. 

Sero drops his phone - mentally apologizing to his PA, and to his bank account - before he throws himself into a dive. He barely hears his phone shatter as it hits the ground, too busy keeping himself from doing the same. The villain is too close for Sero’s preferred swing-and-kick move but when Sero’s tape snaps around the guys arm to haul him back a few steps, he only sneers. He turns his arm and wrenches, and - 

“What do you know? They do cut through my tape,” Sero grunts, darting towards him, and ducking a wide swing. “Well, if you don’t want to make this easy, I suppose I’ll have to gift wrap you for the police, huh? Sadly, I’m fresh out of bows!” Sero drops and almost catches the guy with a leg swipe - but he leaps. “Aw, shi- ” Sero rolls out of the way, barely dodging a foot to the face. 

“Okay, no more of this,” he grunts, getting back to his feet and dodging another swing. “I just need to use more and - ugh, man, I am going to be starving after this, and you won’t even be around to buy me some food.” Sero shoots him a vaguely dirty look, ducking when the villain tries to kick him in the head, and then nearly chokes when two little kids start yelling insults at the top of their lungs.

The two kids dart around them, waving their arms and shooting off little bursts of their quirks. Holy crud, Sero thinks. His heart rate skyrockets as the villain turns his attention to the kids - is this how All Might and Aizawa felt, all those years?!

“Don’t think so, cheapskate!” Sero shouts and shoots tape at the villain’s ankles. He trips, and Sero takes the chance to push the guy into a roll, tangling tape around him as fast and thickly as possible. Sirens echo down the street as he finishes cocooning the guy in a ball of tape - and then he turns to look at the kids.

Their little faces are bright eyed and smiling, full of that rush of I did something awesome! And he feels like a cad, getting ready to scold them. He goes through about three different warped expressions before he sighs.

“Yeah, so I can’t pull an Aizawa,” he mutters under his breath. “And no one is like All Might, so…” He clears his throat and flops down onto the pavement next to the wriggling villain, leaning his elbows on his knees. He knows he comes off a little blasé to any nearby adults, but sue him. He’s a hero in his own right, and he’s starving.

“I have to thank you - you helped save my buns back there. Did you see his arm barbs? Literally!! That would have been like a barbecue fork to the butt! Still, I can’t congratulate you on it. If anything had been slightly off, you two would have been going to the hospital. Keep those heroic little lights burning, but save them for school, okay?” He watches them go back to the adults with a smile, but he hides the expression behind a cough when the adults turn their eyes his way. 

“Man... I would kill for barbecue,” he grumbles, and waves at the police flooding the scene.   

The next day his PA angrily tosses a newspaper his way during morning announcements. There’s a picture of him and the kids on the front page, and he knows those little suckers are going to get fat heads over the ordeal. Or maybe not. He was like them once. He’s known people like them, for years now. They’ll turn out okay.

He laughs though, looking at his hero name in huge print, and the ridiculous headline the newspaper decided on: CELLOPHANE RESCUES KIDS FROM STICKY SITUATION

“It’s a mockery,” his PA mutters.

“Nah,” he disagrees, grinning down at the article and resolutely not looking up. “I think it’s cute. You’re just mad that I skipped out yesterday.” The noise of rage they make is utterly worth it.  

[prorevenge]

You try to cut my team in half so I outsourced your entire department.

This tale takes place over the course of many months and resulted in over 150 lay offs, all to save 22 IT Techs from losing their jobs.

I learned a long time ago that no one cares about the IT team at our company. They see us as "Those useless employees always complaining about rules."

We are a mortgage company, and those rules are the rules everyone follows to protect customer data privacy and to prevent theft. When your company suddenly loses 2 full payments for a house to some scammer in Nigeria and the FTC has questions for you, then it is time to change your policies.

This meant cutting legacy access, revoking unnecessary access, and correctly coding job titles in active directory to prevent people from granting their own access.

What this boiled down to was a meeting that I phoned into a year ago. This was one of those meetings where I did not need to be there. Budget meetings.

In this meeting the VP over the accounting department played a recording showing times when someone in the IT Tech team provided "sup par service." She tried using this as reason to fire half of the tech team.

The trouble was, that all of the people she played recordings of were already fired for giving terrible customer service. These people were replaced by 5 star techs who know what they are doing and give excellent customer service.

This started the whole chain of events that led to last week.

Since this meeting was every 2 months, VP has tried to use her position and influence to grow her team while shrinking ours.

Every budget meeting, I would show up and VP, who shall hence be referred to as Karen, would target my team. I would pull out the numbers, and pull out the logs showing how my team received a little over 3/4s of that team's call volume.

I show how my team of 22 techs personally receive more phone calls than every other inbound call employee by more than double the number.

I show how with the call volume we receive we still maintain a 98 percent satisfaction rating.

At the 3rd budget meeting the COO had been tired of "hearing the same excuses" and wanted hard data. He had a point. I was merely throwing out basic numbers without providing real data.

Our company was in the middle of a budget crisis and someone needed to be cut. These budget meetings were basically a way to defend our own department from the chopping block. Karen believed that the best defense was a good offence. She was right, but not in the way she thought.

When it became clear that the IT support team was on the chopping block, Karen starts to have her employees call into the tech center and have them make requests that she knows we can not assist with as that is handled by another company entirely. We are not able to transfer calls to an external line so the only thing we can do is give the number to call and hang up.

The negative CSAT's start to flood in after this. Every single call from that team regarding a vendor's password reset gets a negative csat. Our approval rating tanked to 72 percent in one day. I instantly took action.

First I contact a few of the users, on recorded calls, and ask them why they called the IT Tech team when they know we are not capable of resetting the vendor's password. She replied that she was told it was policy to do that now. I asked why she left a negative satisfaction rating and she said that those no longer count against the employee. That those are only used for macro metrics.

I walked over to Karen's office and walked in. "Karen, why are you having your team call mine to reset vendor's password?" Karen looked confused and stated that she did no such thing. She said she would talk to her team and make sure that they call the correct number in the future.

The calls did not stop. Now a few of her team were calling in with personal machines that were not an asset of our company. They were wanting things done which would violate license agreements with microsoft or dell. Each of these were refused and each of these were leaving negative CSAT.

It became clear that Karen was trying to tank our stats before the next budget meeting.

I let my boss know and he just gives me a sly smile. "The leash is off. Sick her." This is an inside joke between us as I am someone who is very detail oriented when I am focused. When you try and get my team fired because you want to grow your useless team, I am very focused on you now.

The first thing I do is enable call recording for every corporate employee as to not arouse her suspicions. Her team did not have call recording enabled because her team "handles CDP" on a daily basis.

I pull a live call and listen in.

"This is Employee with our company may I have your account number or your name?" The customer gives the name. "OK I have your account pulled up, are you wanting to make a payment?" Customer says yes. "Are you authorizing me to go ahead and make the withdraw from the bank account we have on file?" Customer agrees. "OK payment is processing. You will be notified in X days when it is complete. Your next due date is this date." The customer thanks her and he hangs up.

Entire phone call was 1:22. Short phone call so I listen to another. Similar situation. I listen to another and get the same thing. I start seeing a pattern here so I go through the rapidly building log and see that all of the phone calls are usually less than 1 minute and 20 seconds long. It takes well over an hour before an anomaly occurs and I see a 5 minute phone call.

The customer needed an extension and the employee was authorized to give her a 30 day extension to avoid a late fee if she would make a double payment next month. The person on the phone agreed.

At this point I also turn on the CSAT for her team only. I expected a largely similar rating as my team. I was not prepared for the nearly instant 50 percent rating that steadily dropped.

My boss comes over to my desk as he was getting the email notifications for the sub 75 percent csat rating and was flabbergasted at the sheer volume of negative reports.

Its now clear that there is no choice but to examine this further. I assign 4 people to review the negative calls from the other team and have them all. The amount of employees being downright rude to customers, not other employees but paying customers, over the phone was shocking. The negative tones in their voice, the unwillingness to fully answer questions, the extreme lack of empathy, and the shocking lack of mute button use was too much.

Then came another shocker. The number of customer facing employees was ridiculous. 152 employees to handle roughly 30 percent more calls than my team of 22.

I call the CIO.

$CIO - What you got for me?

$ME - I have something for you. Its incredibly evil, depressingly accurate, and can probably save the company a ridiculous amount of money.

$CIO - You know this is the second time you have said those exact words to me right?

$ME - Yup. But there is something I need to know first. I am not currently authorized to know it and I need to request it in a way that would not set off any red flags.

$CIO - What is that?

$ME - The starting pay scale for all account employees.

$CIO - Tell me your plan.

The next budget meeting was not a budget meeting. It was a IT Tech defend yourself meeting. The COO directed it and let Karen speak first.

Karen pulled out the same stuff as before. Calls upon calls to our group that were cherry picked as well as listing off dead zone times when we had people working but no one calling in. Then went on about how they could cut our group in half and hire more Account employees to reduce the workflow.

Instead of defending myself or my department, I played 4 of the short call recordings from Karen's department. I then pulled up the excel sheet that was color coded showing how many phone calls each account rep received and the length of time they were on. each call, and the customer satisfaction rating.

I explained the lack of high csat with my own little recording I liked to call a failtage. Its a montage of fail and her team were the stars. Before you ask, I did put music to it.

The recording starts off with an employee saying. "Yeah I guess I can take your payment." Then goes straight into one where a customer accidentally gave the wrong bank account info and said don't use that one. The rep responded with "Christ. What is the actual account number?" It only got worse from there.

This group was unmanaged for so long they were filled with rude and useless employees.

I then showed them a side by side comparison of each tech who received a call. I showed how my techs were receiving more than 4 times the number of calls, per rep, than her team was getting per day. I showed how we all were on the phone for well over 7 times the amount of time her team was on the phone for, and I demonstrated how each tech had double or tripple the satisfaction rating over all of her group.

Half the room that was uninterested in the conversation were suddenly interested when I closed out my presentation.

"In short, I saw no reason to defend the IT team today as I have successfully done so in every prior meeting. Since the last meeting, however, Karen has crossed the line and has had her team call mine in regards to things we have no access to."

I played the recording of me calling her minion. "As you can see here, she directed her team to call mine and to leave bad satisfaction ratings on my guys because of it. I have since deleted those CSAT's as they served no purpose whatsoever. " I then pulled out my next flowchart.

"This is the monthly expense, taken from the last 9 meetings, that our company spends on IT and Servicing departments." I look at the COO who was looking at me intently. "Before today I was on the defensive as I saw no reason to attack another group. But it is clear to me now that my team has a target on its back. That is why I now show you this."

It was a graph showing the starting pay scale for each IT and Servicing employee code as well as their average daily workflow. There was one glaring anomaly on this list. Account department had the highest starting pay scale with the least amount of work.

"So basically in laymen's terms, the Account department can reduced to one tenth of its current size, and we can reduce the pay scale to a little over one half as this department requires very little in the way of problem solving and critical thinking." I saw a few raised eye brows as well as one impressed smile from the CIO.

The COO ushers everyone out of the room except for me, my direct supervisor, and the CIO. He looked at me and said "Continue."

"Further, we can cut this department entirely and outsource THEM instead of IT. Since this group merely takes payments and sometimes allows extensions, we do not have to worry too much about technical ability. Outside of simply using windows we can hire high schoolers if we wanted to." This got a laugh from the CIO. Karen was staring through the window with this smug grin on her face the entire time.

"Now for my final bit for this meeting, I am going to play two cherry picked phone calls. These are the two most technical phone calls I could find from the last month for both departments."

I play a call where a payment fails to process and the rep realizes she typed in the wrong number.

I then play a call where it starts out with a user stating that her customer submitted a payment to the wrong CD. The tech breaks out into our procedure to prevent wire fraud. Thanks to the quick action of this tech we were able to reverse the CD and save this customer from losing their down payment.

The final masterful stroke was playing my final card. "As you all know, Karen has been coming after my team for months. She has been grinding her axe against us because she, like everyone else, has made the mistake that we are incompetent, inept, and useless to the company. What she did not know was that I have all of the logs showing the truth. The smoke she has been blowing for years is so thick that its ridiculous. Her team is highly replaceable and we both know my team would require extensive training and effort to replace."

The CIO spoke up. "With just 30 people, we can outsource her entire department and save the company millions a year. The next time we have a major IT issue, you will be regretting outsourcing us." He then pointed to the graphs and flow charts brought by both myself and Karen. "Her team is useless."

The next day I watched in pure joy as a term request came in for Karen. It came in with the double ** indicator at the beginning meaning this was a stealth term. To be done and coordinated with the person who will inform her of the termination. (Its not actually ** I changed that for here to protect identities.)

Over the next two months, the account team was shuttered. First they came for anyone with disciplinary issues or attendance issues. Then they laid off anyone who had been there a really long time. Then the newest employees.

The smart ones applied for other positions in the company or left before getting laid off. All the while the calls for payments were slowly shunted to the call center in India.

By the end of last week we only have 4 domestic accounts people who take escalations that the India call center is not authorized to take.

Do I feel guilty about being integral for 148 people being laid off? Yes quite. But I know it was necessary to keep my job and my health insurance. Without my health insurance I am a dead man.

The entire reason why this happened though, was because a division was slated to be cut and sent to India from the outset. Thanks to the actions of myself and my direct supervisor, we prevented it from being a sure thing that our team was going to get cut.

On top of that we cut out a festering wound in the company that was slowing it down and costing it money.

My team has not been brought up in the budgetary meetings since.

(source) story by (/u/TheLightningCount1)

[pawtoncake]

Fallen Royalty

Chapter 6

Previous / Next

Ship: past analogical and royality

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: major character death, cheating, pining, depression, murder, murderous intent, rekindling hope, repressed memories being surfaced, heavy patton angst, sword mentions, knocking someone unconscious

Author’s Note Here!: @combine-the-kitchens you had suggested top!patton vibes today, and i got a little out of hand with my royality writings i suppose,,, whoopsie daisies

Tag List: @cinnamonlilac @figurative-falsehood @myinsanity-iscreativity  @sanders-sides-reblog @poppyflowerlesbian666 @hhhhhhhhhhfjaskfsagfhasfgdsakfsa  @deceitfullies101 @whymustibedraggedintofandomhell @haveyourselfamerrylittlebitchmas

Right now was all about revenge.

Patton wished the meeting into action, moving swiftly as he normally would, sparking no alarm. All the guards were on edge anyway; any change with his demeanor and the discovery of Prince Roman’s disappearance, he would be found guilty.

His eyes dragged almost professionally as he nodded along with the words being presented by his royal advisor, Emile.

“This is the stats on how the kingdom will likely pa-” Emile crossed his arms, fixing his glasses flesh to his nose and sighed, “Pat, I know this is the last place you want to be, but could you at least act interested?”

“I can do a good acting Emile,” he gave a small smile for him, seemingly satisfying the advisor.

“Satisfactory Patton, now-” he looked back to the board, drawing on them. Patton couldn’t be less distracted. What if he got out? He was a very smart man… he could be an idiot sometimes, but he was physically smart. And yes in both contexts. It was highly probable, he was loud. What if he hadn’t tied the gag hard enough? What if- Patton was snapped out of his thoughts by a literally snap. Emile looked mildly irritated.

“Patton, I suggest you go rest.”

“But I assure you I am not tired.”

“Not from the looks of you. We can continue this meeting when you are more well rested.”

“But-”

“Patton say one more word, I dare you.”

They exchanged challenging glances for a few seconds, before Patton slumped back in his chair, “fine.”

Once Patton was basically escorted back to his room, it took everything in him to shut and lock his door from Emile’s prying eyes. He was a curious one, he’ll give Emile that one. After he tossed the key to his mirror stand, he took off his sash and shoes, looking rather handsome and not like he had been before.

Patton knocked on the door, earning a whimper from the other side. He shouldn’t have been up yet. Maybe he should have just whacked him a little bit harder. Whatever, all that mattered was his Prince was awake, and ready for mass interrogation during his “nap time.”

Opening the door, Patton saw his head laying back, looking out the only window giving off light. “Hey Roman.”

His head lifts up slowly, almost like he has a headache, and said in a defeated tone, “Patton.”

“You don’t look well.”

“I wonder why.”

“That was grade A sarcasm.”

“You know it lover boy.”

“I can actually knock you out again, don’t test the triggers.”

Roman almost laughed, it was more of a chuckle from the depths of his throat, settling the air like a blanket of warning. Patton moved forward, standing between Roman and the ropes that held him down. He was a good prince in the light, but stick him in the dark, and it’s all fun in his little games. Patton knew that, Roman had not.

He rested each of his arms on either of Roman’s shoulders, holding his hands where Roman could see. His nails were painted blue, they were chipped, but still there. Roman’s curls dropped in front of his eyes as he focused on not moving. Patton sighed, opening his hands up fully. They showed off scars, some paint from frustrated art sessions, and blood. From him, Roman had no idea.

Roman tilted his head to the left a little, looking back half way, deciding his words lightly, “why are you showing me this?”

Patton noted his ability to go along, twisting the ring on his finger. The ring Roman had given him. The promise ring. He had kept it. The bright pale blue stuck out amongst the marks on his hand. There was blood on the diamond, probably from impact with bumping into something.

“Now before you try to overreact, yes, this is your blood, and it’s your ring. This ring hasn’t meant a thing to me in awhile. I debated throwing it out, but figured I could use it for leverage on you.” He pulled it off, holding it in the palm of his left hand.

“You used this to promise me that I would never see you leave. Or cheat, or steal my love. But… you did all of those things to me. Every single one.” His voice grew progressively sadder, dripping with longing for old times, too stubborn to ignore the obvious elephant in the room.

“So I guess to get straight to the point, I am going to wrong you in every way you have me. I will lead you into a false sense of hope for us, then I’ll leave you, cheat on you, and take your heart, in the exact same manner as mine was taken. You won’t be free from me Roman.”

‘Was this some sort of joke?’ Roman thought, brows furrowed in confusion, “but you won’t be able to, I-I know your plans,” he struggled against his bonds to the chair.

“You think you know my plans now, but I haven’t even gotten to the fun part of this…” he moved back around to face Roman and his beautiful hair straight forward.

Patton held his hand with the ring up, before beginning his hypnotic process, “This is our wedding ring. You married me. You promised me to be my forever. We adopted a very handsome young prince, let’s call him Thomas. You are an amazing father to him and a passionate lover to me. Life is good, we are good.” He snapped when he finished.

Roman’s dropped head lifted up in confusion, looking for his surroundings, seeing himself tied up, “love, is this another kink you wanted to try?” Patton smiled widely, “you could say that my prince.”

Roman threw on a smile, “that’s okay dearest, what time is it?”

“Late, I have no clue, we’ve been in here for awhile.” He ran his fingers through Roman’s hair, pushing it back to look at his eyes. He was definitely hypnotized, as his eyes seemed to turn a lot darker. Still beautiful, but much darker.

Patton looked to the clock that was hanging next to the shower a few feet away. It was broken, but it said 4:36. “The clock is broke, so I have no idea.” Roman nodded, “Babe can you undo this, I’m hungry.”

“Oh yeah, of course,” he kissed Roman sweetly, untying him from the front.

Roman stood, almost immediately falling into his arms. “Woah!” He said with a smile, “I guess I really fell for you huh?”

“Oh shut it.” Patton said with a laugh, helping him back to his feet, stable.

“Let’s go get Thomas, then grab something to eat, shall we?”

Patton would have to pay the young boy to go along with this. It wouldn’t be easy, but he could always hypnotise Remy and pay his parents off; he could figure something out. “I can go grab him, you,” he patted and fixed Roman’s tie, pressing a kiss to his lips kindly, “meet me in the kitchen love.” Roman nodded, smiling as he went off to where he was told.

He rang for Thomas to come to his room, pacing as he was taking far longer than normal. A knock sounded on the door moments later; the door flying open with the pretense of an emergency.

“Thomas, you’re little enough to pull this off for me. I need you to pretend to be Roman and I’s child.” He placed his hands around the bedpost.

“I- um- you- what?”

“You cannot utter a word of this to anyone else. Do I have your word?”

“Yes of course your majesty.”

“Good. So, I kidnapped the prince, hypnotised him into thinking we were married with a child, and it worked. But the child is what we were missing, so I want to enlist you. I mean, if you don’t want to I can just hypnotise you as well, but either way I would get what I want.”

The young boy seemed to think, “what do I get out of this?”

“Anything you desire with things pertaining to us as a family. I can make your family higher class than even the highest class, make you royal advisors if need be.” Patton crossed his arms, eyes holding no question or trick. He was dead serious.

“I’ll do it.”

“You will?”

“Yes. I just need one thing, and it’s all I want from this, no matter how long it takes.”

“And that is?”

“I want you to bring back my sister Valerie, from the Land of Lost. She was orphaned there before I was born. I only desire to meet her.”

“I can make that happen.”

“Then I’m in. Entirely. Whatever you need me to do.” Thomas nodded profusely, confidently.

“Great. Right now, he is to join us for lunch down in the dining hall. I told him to go down already.” Patton took his hand, walking towards the door. He opened it, being guided out into a bright hallway, too bright.

He had to shield his eyes as Thomas followed him, eventually dropping his hand to his sides, making fast strides to were his “husband” had fled off to. They had heard singing, meaning either Roman was baking, or watch some movie.

Well I don’t think they considered the possibility that it might have been both. He was already coated in flour and mixing something in a bowl. It looked to be blueberry muffins, Patton’s favorite.

A tiny feeling of guilt creeped up his neck, but he shot it away as quick as it came. “Hey honey!” Roman smiled, grabbing some sugar from a container on the table.

“Hey sweetheart, I see you’re making my favorite… what’s the occasion?”

Roman laughed, “no occasion! Just really wanted to show you how much I love you.”

Patton blushed, looking out of Thomas’ line of vision.

“Thanks babe, I love you too.”

After Thomas had greeted his father and volunteered to help, 3 pans of muffins went in minutes later.

“Babe I can smell them already.” Patton smiled, being dramatic.

“I’m sure you can,” Roman chuckled, him and Thomas taking on the dishes.

Things were taking a turn for a better, to the public eye anyway. The Kings were back in arrangement with a beautiful son to take the throne when they soon came to pass.

Emile was highly skeptical of the sudden switch in them being married, after just seeing him that morning, moping over not having him.

He had noticed light coming from the door to the kitchen, he went to go see if it had been them. When he’d heard the voices he feared would be behind it, he made it his personal mission to find out what the hell Patton was playing at.

Emile knocked calmly, opening the door to a flour covered Thomas, and Patton looking highly guilty of being the culprit. Roman stuck his head up from behind the counter. “He did it!”

Emile placed a smile on, “it does seem like that.”

Patton set the bag down softly, raising his hands as his “son” coerced him into a hug. And as much as Patton didn’t want the flour all over him, he let it happen, finding the moment to be bond like, and far more believable for his advisor and husband.

“Hey Em, can you take Thomas for a few minutes? I need to have a little chit chat with Ro.” Roman wiped a stripe of flower across Thomas’s forehead, causing the younger one to try to run from his father.

“Yeah, of course, I can see if Valerie is able to take him.”

“Excellent thank you.” He put on a blinding grin.

He could see Emilie take a giggly Thomas from Roman, and them leaving as loudly as they came. Patton was almost too distracted to notice the hands that intertwined his and a somewhat worried look. “Love, what’s up?” Roman drew shapes into Patton’s hands absentmindedly, a nervous tick he’d always had.

“I just wanted some us time is all.” Patton hugged him, nuzzling into his neck. Roman blushed a deep red, clearly thinking what Patton had wanted him too. “Love, i want you to sing for me,” he said again, but this time in a slightly more suggestive manor, “my prince, please.”

Roman squeaked, looking back to him, “Pat you’re going to get me all riled up, that’s not fair.” Patton pulled a face to that, “RoRo, I just want to hear you sing, you always tell me the best stories.”

“I always aid you in the best moments too, oh my love, why must you try to seduce me in the kitchen?”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.” Patton shrugged it off.

“Hm, yeah sure.”  Roman said with a smile, kissing Patton’s forehead.

“Don’t want to let those cookies burn now do we?”

[what-stop-the-presses-rly-means]

The College Years part 2

Jared x female reader

Warnngs: swearing, sexual themes

Part 1

————————–

Jared and I both took advantage of the rainy, lazy afternoon by lying in my bed. I had my head at one end and he occupied the other. I had spent the last half hour playing a mobile game, completely distant from the outside world.

Jared dropped his phone off the side of the bed so I chanced a quick glance at him. He hung half of his body off the edge and sighed dramatically.

“(y/n/n), I’m bored and kinda horny.” My phone nearly joined his on the floor as he startled me.

“…and what do you want me to do about that?”

“Could you make out with me for a bit, please?” I looked at him again. He wasn’t smiling so it wasn’t a joke. He looked completely normal.

“Excuse me?”

He sat up. “I’m bi but I’ve been cutting it pretty close to the homosexual side of things for a while now. We need to even out the stats.”

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, you sure know how to woo a girl. Maybe you should stick to guys.”

“You didn’t let me finish.” I stared at him, waiting for him to continue. “I’m also very lazy and don’t want to go out there and find a mate.” I chucked my pillow at him, hitting him square in the face. He grabbed it, laughing out loud.

“I’m just kidding! Actually, no, that is true. But you know I love you and I’ve always kinda wondered what it would be like to make out with you. Plus you’re gorgeous.” My eyes softened at that. “I mean, just look at your sexy pj’s.” And the softness is gone. I glared down at my lap, cute little bunnies looking back up at me. I felt a hand lift my face back up.

“Sorry. I try to give an actual compliment and then my brain fucks it up with a joke. I really do like your pj’s. They make your ass look amazing. Take that as serious or a joke, I don’t care which.” I smiled a little.

“You’re not so horrible looking yourself.”

He looked slightly relieved before faux-glaring at me.

“Girl, you know I’m beautiful, now just let yourself admit it.” As he was laughing at his own joke, I leaned forward and kissed him hard on the mouth. It only lasted a couple seconds but it shut him up. And if I could live in that moment with that look of shock on his face forever, I would.

I pretended to look thoughtful. “Hmm, not bad.“ Then I picked up my phone again, faking nonchalance. It was silent for a few moments before he piped up.

“You’re more of a saucy minx than I give you credit for. Come over here so I can punish you.” I blushed slightly. "You might as well. I have your pillow.” I peered over the game in my hand to see him fluffing it out and placing it in his lap.

——————————————

I knocked on his door, balancing the container with the pie in one hand and his present in the other. After a moment, he opened the door. He was only wearing a pair of baggy pajama pants and his hair was sticking out at different angles.

Jared scratched his head and blinked at the harsh hall lighting. Once he adjusted, he looked from me to the container, then back to me. He promptly pinched his forearm, hard. He yelped briefly, and then smiled.

I looked at him incredulously. “What the hell was that?”

He smiled again. “Ya know, I had a dream just like this once: Beautiful girl comes to my quarters in the late hours of the night with dessert. I had to make sure this wasn’t one of those dreams.” I rolled my eyes and walked past him, into his room. I set the items on his desk as he grabbed his glasses.

“Well there are so many differences between this and your dreams. One, midnight is not late for college students. Two, instead of a beautiful woman, you get me.”

“Oh honey.” He grabbed my hands. “You’re so beautiful, that the only way you could make this better is if you baked a giant pie and jumped out of it.” I smiled a little. “Yeah, I definitely wouldn’t mind seeing you covered in goop.” Aaand the smile vanishes. “As delicious as this ass already is,” he smacked my ass lightly and held his hand there, “it would be even tastier.”

“Okaaaay…” I ducked under his arm and took a couple steps to the right. “I can see you’re not fully awake yet.”

Jared just laughed. “Well, if we wanna stay true to my dreams, you better start stripping. I’ll be over here, stretching.” I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped my mouth. I couldn’t look at him so I turned to the dessert. I quickly dug out the candle and lighter from my pocket and when I turned back to him his face dropped the joking smirk. The pie had a ‘20’ candle in the middle.

“This is the real reason I’m here. Happy birthday, loser.” He wore an uncharacteristically soft smile.

“And to you, equally as lame loser.” He walked over and held onto his side of the pie.

“On three?” I smiled and nodded.

“One.”

“Two.”

“Three.” And we simultaneously blew out the candle.

“And to show how much of a not-lame, awesome person I am,” I cut the pie down the middle. “My half is my favorite and the other half is your gross favorite.”

Breaking off a chunk with his bare hands, Jared said, “You’re just un-American. Though I would love to roleplay as the cop who ‘convinces’ the Russian spy to come over to the good side.”

“Ugh, gag me.”

“Ya know, I would, but my ball gag is currently in storage.” I gave him a look. “Oh, don’t glare at me when you’re over there, using really outdated slang terms.”

I scoffed. “Okay, are you gonna keep sassing me or do you want your present?” He looked confused. “You actually got me something? I mean, the pie would’ve been enough…”

“You sound like you don’t usually get presents or something.”

Jared looked at the ground sheepishly. “Well, I get presents from my family-usually just money at this point- but I’ve never really gotten anything from a friend or whatever. You didn’t have to.” It was weird seeing him all shy all of a sudden.

“What are you talking about? I never would’ve left you hanging. Plus, it’s not like I could say I forgot the date.” That caused him to laugh a little. I turned to get his present and when I turned back I saw him grab something from under his bed.

“Oh, so you gave me that whole spiel, but you had a present for me the whole time?” I teased.

“Shut up. Yeah, I just got you something stupid, it’s not a big deal.”

“You were gonna let this be a one-sided exchange. How dare you.” We both laughed and handed our gifts to each other.

“You first,” I nodded to the box in his hands. He took a breath and shakily unwrapped it. When he unfolded the sweater his eyes widened.

“You’re shitting me.” He dropped the box and hastily put it on, showing off the purple, blue, and pink menorah, smiling brightly. “This is fucking awesome!”

I giggled. “I’m glad you like it.” I looked down at the small package in my hands and opened it. “You got me a CD? A little old school don’t you think?”

Jared shoved his hands in his pockets. “Well, it’s a, um, I burned you a CD. I couldn’t think of what to buy and I figured you’d appreciate it if I made something instead. It was stupid.”

“No! That’s amazing. No one does that anymore. What songs did you choose?”

“You know, just songs we both like. The first song we listened to together while walking to class, those cheesy boy band songs you sing all the time that get stuck in my head, the songs we listen to while studying. Just a bunch of random shit.” I didn’t know what to say. I walked over and pulled him into a tight hug. He wrapped his arms around my waist and buried his face into my neck, his sweater making him warmer than normal.

“Look at that. You really can be sweet and sappy,” I teased. He pushed me away lightly.

“Don’t get used to it. It’s reserved for birthdays and deaths in the family.”

“Fingers crossed that some distant cousin dies this year so I can see it twice in one year,” I joked as I put the CD into his laptop.

“Wow, dark.” He dug out two forks and grabbed the pie as we settled on his bed. Snuggling into his sweater covered chest, listening to our music, and eating pie might just be the best way to spend the first hour of our birthday.

[mamashitty]

Samwell Elementary Chapter 7

a new pov this time around. y’all can read the story here on my tumblr or on my ao3.

Shitty is seated cross-legged on the floor in Maisie’s room. She is in the process of figuring out how to braid his epic flow. She pulls his hair a lot less than Jack does, Shitty notices and files that information away for later. It is always good to stock up on chirping material for the future. Except, just as Shitty is musing over that, Maisie tugs his hair back rather painfully, and Shitty bites back a wince that his badass hockey niece does not even notice.

“Uncle Crappy?” Maisie asks.

“What is it, Corndog?”

“Do you think Mom is going to love me less after the baby is born?” It is not very often that Shitty hears the fear in Maisie’s voice. Her whole life she seems to face any situation head-on. She is always grabbing life by the horns. He finds himself frowning, not liking the question, and not liking that this is a worry that Maisie has floating around in her adorable little head. He tilts his head back so that he can look at her. He wonders if she has asked Jack or Camilla this question yet, or if he is the first one. He forces himself to flash her a smile and then he is sticking his tongue out her. Maisie lets out a giggle, though it sounds forced to his ears.

“Maisie, your Mom is going to love you the same as she does now, brah.” He says, putting as much conviction into his voice as possible, and hoping that Maisie hears it and understands it. Maisie is the first kid that he has spent any real amount of time with, she’s the first one he proudly calls a niece. The first one he gets to be some form of Uncle to. This feels a bit like a test to him, a test he is really just putting on his own shoulders. He does not want to fuck this up. He wants and needs Maisie to know that she can always come to him, no matter what the problem or concern is. He loves this little girl. She is a perfect mix of Jack and Camilla. And completely her own person too. Shitty remembers clearly her as a baby, and the first time he babysat her, and how she got mad. She was somewhere between six and nine months, no longer that scary kind of blob that newborns are, something a bit more sturdy and something that could move. He remembers she was screaming at the top of her lungs, and nothing he did could cheer her up. He was on the verge of panic calling Jack and Camilla when she reached up to grab his sunglasses and chew on them. She began to laugh. And Shitty, his heart still racing, had started to laugh too. Jack and Camilla had come home to Shitty and Maisie just shouting and laughing at each other. They had really connected after that, even though Shitty had been smitten with her the first time he saw her.

“Are you sure?” Maisie asks, her voice quiet. Shitty reaches behind him, tugging Maisie onto his lap and giving her a tight hug. She melts into it and her arms wrap around his neck.

“I am positive, Maisie-Daze,” Shitty says, before adding. “Every time I meet a new friend, I don’t love my other friends any less. Love has a way of growing, brah. Your Mom and Steve will love you and your brother or sister. And you are going to love them too, and be the best big sister in the fucking universe,” Shitty knows better than to swear in front of Maisie like that. He has had practice with it, after all. But he does it on purpose because something tells him, Maisie will like it.

And she does, she lets out a giggle as soon as he lets the f-bomb drop. “Uncle Crappy!” She admonishes him through giggles. When they subside, she pulls her head back to look at him. “But are you sure?” She asks, and he hears a hint of a quiver in her voice.

“I am abso-fucking-lutely certain, Corndog. Neither one of your parents will ever love you any less than they love you now. And if you don’t believe your Uncle Crappy, you should ask your Mom.” Shitty finishes, vaguely wondering if he said the correct things or not. Hoping that he did. He watches Maisie and she looks like she is really mulling over what he said. He watches her nod her head.

“Okay, Uncle Crappy. You swore again!” She adds, laughing.

“Please don’t tell your Papa,” Shitty jokes, before adding. “And, remember, you can always come talk to me if you need to, Corndog. Thank you for talking to me about this,” he finishes. He has always spoken to Maisie like she was a little adult. Not so much in the content of his words, that he usually keeps as kid-friendly as possible, but just in the way he talks to her. Shitty isn’t one for higher-pitched voices and dumbing down his speech for kids. He thinks Maisie appreciates it.

“Okay,” Maisie says, and he feels like he is losing her a bit now, that she is shifting from serious mode and wanting to get back into fun mode. She hops off of his lap. “Wanna play hide and seek?” She asks, and Shitty grins.

“Heck yes, I do!”

It is a few hours later. and Jack is finally home. Maisie is sleeping, Shitty had had to do bedtime. He had fun with it though, he read her three books for bedtime even though her parents usually just read one. He and Jack are seated on the couch in the living room. Shitty had already filled Jack in about Maisie’s frankly heartbreaking question. They had talked about it some and he knows Jack will talk to her about it tomorrow. He had sent Camilla a text message too about it. He feels like that was the right course of action. Silence has fallen between the two friends. Shitty is only half paying attention to the documentary that Jack put on. He’s nursing a beer, knowing that it is getting that time when he should leave. Jack’s bedtime is quickly approaching, after all.

“So, you coming to the Halloween party this year?” Shitty broaches, affecting as much nonchalance as he can. Shitty knows Jack does not have a game that night. He also knows that Maisie will be staying the night over at Camilla’s.

“I don’t know, Shits,” Jack says after a beat and Shitty wonders if Jack’s mind had immediately gone to Bitty or not. He decides it is time to go for broke.

“You’ll miss the costume that Bitty is wearing. It is going to be a beaut,” Out of the corner of his eye, because Shitty can be smooth and not outright stare at his best friend, he sees Jack tense for a moment and then relax.

“Really? Eh, that is nice.” Shitty notes that Jack’s attempt at nonchalance pales compared to his. Shitty shifts his position on the couch so that he can stare his friend down.

“Jackie-Jack,” Shitty says, adopting as firm a voice as he can. “You like him. You should come and hang out with him outside of school and outside of those five-minute chats you bros have before you and I go jogging.” He sees Jack opening his mouth, likely to denydenydeny. Shitty interrupts. “Brah, I have seen how you look at him and those coffees you bring him?” Shitty decides not to mention the looks he has seen Jack give Bitty when Bitty is wearing that Falconer's shirt. Jack is not subtle. Jack is also frowning now and Shitty only feels a teeny bit guilty about that.

“Shitty, even if I do find him attractive and even if I do enjoy talking with him… he’s Maisie’s teacher. That seems inappropriate, plus he just got out of a relationship with someone,” Jack is hedging. Shitty supposes his concerns are somewhat valid but they get in the way of Shitty’s dream. The dream that two of his best bros might actually be able to find happiness together. Jack is not subtle in his looks and neither is Bitty. Shitty can fucking taste the pine between the two of them.

“Jack, Trevor was a fucking douche,” Shitty starts with because that is easy. “Their relationship… it was not… well, it was not awful but also not the best. And Bitty is the one who gets to judge whether or not it is too soon, but you gotta’ give him a chance to do that. The teacher thing… maybe it is a little inappropriate. But, brah, you like him. I haven’t seen you like this with anyone in a long time. You deserve to be happy. And, also, it is just a party.�� Shitty finishes.

Jack stays quiet for a while, likely mulling it all over. “I will think about it, Shits.”

“Sweet!” Shitty exclaims and he clumsily closes the gap between the two of them on the couch and smacks a wet kiss on Jack’s cheek.

Shitty and Bitty are seated at the kitchen island. Shitty has bravely volunteered as taste-tester. Bittle wants all the treats he is making for the Halloween party to be perfect. He claims half of what Shitty has eaten today is just not good enough, but Shitty, oh Shitty he begs to differ. And has countless times but Bitty just lets out a huff and reworks the recipes. Shitty is certain he will gain fifty pounds tonight alone, and he does not mind one iota.

“I invited Jack to the Halloween party. Brah, I invite him every year but I think this year he might actually come,” Shitty says, hopefully as smoothly as he wants it to be. He might be just a little high but nothing that he can’t function with. Nothing that impairs his taste buds any, a point he has argued over and over with Bitty over the course of the night.

“Jack? He won’t be busy with Maisie and Camilla?” Bitty asks, and there seems to be a strange tone to Eric’s voice and fuck maybe Shitty is higher than he realized because he is having a difficult time deciphering what that tone means.

“He has plans to go with them for trick or treating and then no plans. No game or anything,” Shitty explains and he notices the way Bitty tenses up, pausing in whatever it is he is doing to the baked goods. Probably something to make them epically delicious. Shitty can feel his mouth start to salivate at the thought of what those baked goods will taste like. He wants them in his mouth and down his belly stat! Wait, he is supposed to be focusing on Bitty and Jack and trying to encourage one of them to make maybe think about making the move on the other. In their own time, of course, but hopefully, that own time will be sooner rather than later.

“Seems kind of strange that he won’t be spending the night with them, doesn’t it?” Bitty asks and there is that tone again. Annoyance? Maybe even anger. Bitty’s Georgian twang has gotten thicker. Shitty frowns.

“Not really? I mean Maisie has a bedtime and they might let her stay up a little later because it is Halloween but, she’ll go to bed with plenty of time for Jack to come out and play. And Camilla is probably going to want to spend the evening with Steve, brah.” Shitty explains, hoping that settles whatever concern is in Bitty’s mind. He wonders if Bitty has the same concerns as Jack, the whole appropriateness thing with being Maisie’s teacher. This whole plan of his, half-baked though it is, suddenly seems more complicated if that is the case.

“Shitty. If Jack decides to come to a party and not spend his free evening with his pregnant wife then he is not the sweet man he acts like,” and Shitty wonders if the weed he smoked broke his brain some.

“Pregnant wife? Bro, no. Camilla and Jack are divorced. She’s with Steve and the kid is Steve’s, not Jack’s and…” and suddenly Shitty is laughing, harder than is probably warranted given the situation. Bitty spins on his heels to stare at him and Shitty notices how red his face is. He feels guilty about laughing and tries to stop. He manages to finally stop the laughter and sort of curses the weed gods for making him so giggly. It isn’t right laughing at Bitty right now even if it is kind of funny. Suddenly, the vague comments he has made in the past two months are starting to add up in Shitty’s head.

“Brah, did you think Jack was some kind of like… nice asshole? He’s single as fuck,” and Bitty is definitely Jack’s type but Shitty stops himself from saying that. Bitty is worrying his lower lip something fierce. He looks on the verge of saying something when the timer on the oven dings. He busies himself with getting the baked goods out of it and Shitty watches him, only pausing in his watching, to spin on the barstool for a moment, before he returns to just staring at his friend. Probably creeper level of staring.

“I was a little confused. Lord, Shitty. The man keeps bringing me coffees whenever he drops Maisie off. He always seems so interested in what I have to say, and I could not tell at first if he was just being polite or if it was something more. And then if it was something more that was just wrong because I thought he was with Camilla,” and Bitty lets out a groan. “I probably embarrassed myself around him so many times.” He watches as Bitty hides his face in his hands.

“Bitty, Bits… don’t worry. Jack probably never noticed you saying or doing anything embarrassing,” and if he did, Shitty thinks silently, he probably did not mind. Bitty is silent for a few minutes.

“I hope he comes,” he says, quietly and Shitty breaks out into a grin.

[koalataeil]

Basketball Player!Ten (High School)

Grade: Junior

Position: Starting Shooting Guard

Skills: Shooting (three-pointers), support/motivation/happiness

so ten is known to be just always so happy

always has a smile on his face

even if it’s at the end of practice and he’s been doing conditioning for the last 15 minutes

always smiling

and he is usually able to get the others in a good mood too

like if one of his teammates is having a bad day, ten will easily cheer them up

which makes the whole team in a better mood

which helps them play better individually and as a team

during games, even if he misses a shot or travels or turns the ball over he is still smiling

the coach gets so mad at him every time too

thinking that ten thinks it is funny that he messed up

so he’s gotten yelled at quite a few times just for being his usual self

when he’s out of the game and sitting on bench, he’s usually cheering for his teammates

warning them of the shot clock or yelling out the play they’re doing

ten is known for his shooting

he’s always working hard before practice starts by shooting around the hoops

working on his shooting technique and helping other teammates if they are struggling, especially the younger players or people on the JV team

although ten really doesn’t even have the best technique, it still ALWAYS gets in somehow

and it can be pretty frustrating to some of the other players bc it just comes so easy to him

ten is not a ball-hog AT ALL

like he loves to pass to his other teammates to let them make the shots

but if no one is open, he’ll easily take the shot, even if the person guarding him is super close to him

you are actually a stats person from a different school than ten

you got started bc your best friend johnny signed up to do stats and he signed your name up too bc he didn’t want to be by himself

so you do the stats on a tablet and johnny does it on paper, each focusing on different parts of the game and helping each other out

but you also mess with each other all the time, especially during time outs and in-between quarters

during a three-day long tournament, you met ten for the first time

ten’s team played your school’s team during the first day

and he caught your eye during the first couple of minutes bc he was scoring so many points so quickly

Johnny even expressed his concerns that if your team couldn’t defend him better, they’d definitely lose the game

ten also caught your eye because he was smiling so much the whole time he had been in

it just made you want to spend time with him because his happiness could easily spread to you

when ten was subbed out for the first time, the game started to calm down a little and your team was able to catch up

and soon ten was kneeling in front of you, waiting to be subbed back in

once the refs had time to bring him in, ten turned around and smiled at you quickly before running onto the court

the game continues that way for the rest of the game

ten scoring a bunch of points, being subbed out when he gets tired, you team catching up a little, and ten getting subbed back into the game, always making sure he smiles at you

but when he gets back into the game with only a couple of minutes left, ten winks at you which makes you blush and cause Johnny to question your relationship with ten and tease you

the game ended with your team losing by about 15 points, mostly because ten just kept sinking 3s

Johnny and you get up from your spot after finishing the stats and hand off the stats to the assistant coach before they go into the locker room

as you were forced to stay and watch the next game of the tournament, Johnny and you sat together and watched the next two teams warmup for their game

as the game was starting, ten and jaehyun were walking to sit on the bleachers but ten noticed you and Johnny and decided to sit in front of you, making sure to smile at you before he sat down

Johnny gave you a weird look and you watched the game, occasionally listening to jaehyun’s and ten’s commentary

you tried not to laugh at some of their jokes, knowing that you didn’t want to get caught overhearing their conversation

around half-time, jaehyun gets up to get food and Johnny leaves to meet with the assistant coach about a stat issue

ten decides to start talking to you

it’s hella awkward as he tries to use some stupid pickup lines with you but also just genuinely wanting to get to know you

and you answer his questions and occasionally ask him questions as you also wanted to know more about ten too

you conversation progresses to some stupid talk about a class you two both take

until Johnny comes up and tells you that the bus is leaving soon

so you have to say goodbye to ten and get on the bus

and the whole ride home is just you thinking of ten and you cannot wait to see him again

the next day of the tournament, your team plays an earlier game as they lost the first game

the game continues as normal, you and Johnny taking stats and messing with each other

until ten’s team arrives, all wearing matching sweats and looking intimidating

ten’s eyes scan the gym until he sees you, smiling and waving at you

you smile and wave back and Johnny’s like

“you do realize your boyfriend is our rival right”

“he’s not my boyfriend”

“yeah sure, whatever you say”

so you get more distracted than normal while taking stats, but you still get through it

and ten has now changed into his jersey and getting ready to warmup

and you sit with johnny and watch as ten warms up by shooting around and stretching

you unintentionally ignore Johnny’s comments

and when he notices, he just stops talking and starts pouting until he gets your attention again

which takes way longer than you’d like to admit

but throughout the game you try to pay attention to both the game and whatever Johnny is saying at that time

and ten isn’t taking as many shots as he was the first day, mainly because the other team isn’t playing the defense very close

so he lets the other players score

and occasionally ten will look at you in the crowd, a smile on his face the entire time

when the game ends, after ten’s team wins, Johnny pulls your attention away from ten going to the locker room

“why don’t you just ask him out already?”

“bc I'm not about to embarrass myself, he doesn’t like me”

Johnny rolls his eyes “yeah, and I'm not good looking”

then you roll your eyes

“you should though, like you aren’t going to see him every day and there’s only one more day of the tournament”

“I know, I know”

Johnny leaves to go sit with some of the players of your team when he sees ten walking out of the locker room and making his way towards you

and ten’s hair is all messed up from just playing a game of basketball and sweating

and he’s just wearing his team sweats

but he just looks so great anyways

and you guys start talking again while watching the next teams warmup

it’s like you’ve known each other for years

you just feel like you know ten so well

“are you ready for the tournament to be over? it’s probably really tiring playing three games in three days”

“I kind of am, but then I won’t be able to see you when it’s over”

you try to hide you blush that comes from his comment

“we could hang out after the tournament ends” you mumble

“sounds good, can I get your number?”

and you exchange numbers and hangout until the final game is over and you both have to go your separate ways

and Johnny and some of the basketball players tease you when you get on the bus

but ten starts texting you during the bus ride

and it just makes you so happy that ignore their comments

the last day of the tournament ends the same way

your team ended up winning their last game and got 3rd in the tournament

you were able to talk and hang out with ten before his game

ten’s team got 2nd, but there was a smile on his face the whole time

and after the game, ten came up and hugged you, his hair messed up and all sweaty

even if they didn’t get first, he was still happy and proud of himself and his team

and he was so happy that he met you at this tournament

and with a promise to meet up again soon, he heads off to the locker room and you have to go back on the bus to go home

after a couple of times hanging out, ten finally got the courage to ask you out on a real date

and it was really cute bc he was so shy about bring it up

but you always try to make it to his games if you don’t have to do stats

and you meet some of his teammates and they let you know that ten never shuts up about you

at that point, ten’s like, “let’s go look at this trophy”

and ten and you occasionally will have study dates where you both complain about that class you were both taking

even tho you were on different chapters and had different teachers

it would just be nice to have someone that you can confide in and has a similar experience

overall your relationship is pretty cute but also just like you two are best friends

and Johnny gets slightly jealous that you don’t spend all your free time with him

he even tries to third-wheel on some of your dates

but ten doesn’t mind bc he’s been slowly becoming friends with Johnny

and soon enough Johnny and ten will be deep in conversation and completely forget you’re even around

but you don’t mind bc you have your two boys and life is great

[alt-ctrl-delete-f1]

*~*~OBLIGATORY TRIGGER WARNING~*~*

Listen, things are about to get messy so strap in. I’m going to cuss, I’m going to talk about frustrating, horrible, terrible, sad sad sad things. (Tags below) If you are struggling or feeling particularly fragile right now, please don’t read on, if you can’t. But this is true. And I’m writing it for two purposes:

1.    I need to. The story I’m about to tell is 100% true. And it 100% happened in MY life. This is cathartic for me because I’m at a point where if I don’t get it all out, I might actually explode in a glittery display of thoughts, feelings and fragments of sanity.

2.    If one single person reads this and realizes the permanence of choices, my work here is done. So I’m talking to you. The you who is nearly “there.” The you who is so exhausted and weary and tired and ready to just be done. The you who is desperately searching for one damn thing to hang on to. You may find it here.

As always, if you want to reach out, please message me privately. Please ask questions. Please comment, if you feel moved to do so.

And if you read no further, please know this: you are loved, you are worthy, you are special, you are beautiful, you are strong, you are amazing. I want you here. I want you to be your best you.

Ok, now seriously, I’m about to start.

Last chance.

[Soundtrack:]

Creep by Radiohead

Key lyric: “I wish I was special… but I’m a creep. I’m a weirdo. What the hell am I doing here? I don’t belong here…”

Pieces by Sum 41

Key lyric: “This place is so empty; my thoughts are so tempting I don’t know how it got so bad…”

Sail by Awolnation

Key lyric: “Maybe I should cry for help, maybe I should kill myself, I blame it on my ADD, baby…”

Believe in Dreams by Flyleaf

Key lyric: “We laugh about the past, but secretly wish we could go back and save the child…”

Unsteady by X Ambassadors

Key Lyric: “If you love me, don’t let go…”

Prologue:

Unlucky

________________________________________________________

On Friday, April 13, 2018 at 1735, my twenty-year-old brother sent three text messages within the span of one minute. All three messages read, “I love you.”

One was to his girlfriend. She was sleeping (read: not actually sleeping) with a guy who was not my brother. She never responded.

One was to his estranged father. He, as usual, couldn’t be bothered. He never responded.

One was to our mother. She had just been released from the hospital in Toledo and was driving Lyft in the area in an effort to recoup lost wages from her hospital stay. She could not view her messages for nearly an hour. At approximately 1820, she responded and said “I love you too. Are you ok?”

My brother never responded.

He took out his composition notebook. The notebook where he’d listed appointments with his probation officer, things to do, errands to run. The same notebook where he’d written notes to himself asking,

“Why do you push everyone away? You have no family left, no friends left. You are a failure.”

“Why are you like this?”

“Why can’t you just stop it already?”

He scribbled a heartfelt note to his girlfriend and a single, half-hearted sentence to a broader audience and left the notebook open on the dresser then searched his messy one bedroom apartment and found his yellow karate belt.

He set his phone on one of the shelves in his closet and climbed up on the next one. He wrapped the belt around a hook that was about seven feet high and by 1800, his heart stopped beating forever.

Forever.

In the days and weeks that followed his suicide, myself, my sister and my mother would learn many things. Some things we can’t get out of our heads. And others, we can’t seem to place. As though our collective brains are protecting us from a heartfelt acknowledgement of this ugly truth.

Personally, I learned that on average, it takes roughly 3-6 minutes to die by hanging. And that when a six-foot-two-inch man-child hangs himself against a wall in his closet, it looks like he’s hiding from his girlfriend to jump out and scare her. The dim morning light casts just enough shadow that you can’t see that his feet are actually six inches off the ground.

Did you know that for me, knowing that there was a shelf less than six inches from his right foot only solidifies to me that he was 100% comfortable in his decision to die – and thatfact makes me feel all the feels and absolutely numb at the same time?

Or that going through your dead brothers Facebook messages and seeing how many people he tried to contact, with absolutely no success was physically painful? And knowing that he didn’t reach out to you fills you with the most dreadful sense of relief ever – EVER– felt? Because you know that you were busy teaching your two-year-old to sing the ABC’s and your phone was off so you could focus on your toddler and that not having a missed message from your suicidal brother actually makes it easier, in a way?

And that you can hate yourself for feeling any kind of relief in this situation ever?

There was something inside of my brother that was broken.

He was born with a congenital heart defect – a truly broken heart. By the age of four, he’d had more open heart surgeries than he’d had birthdays. He was on the ventilator on and off for pretty much the first two years of his life (read: oxygen deprivation).

When he was three, my mother and my brother’s father had another baby boy. He was born prematurely and survived for 99 days, never leaving the hospital. This effected Caleb deeply. Deeply. To me, it was two-fold. Caleb operated on a different plane than other people. He truly feltthe loss of Baby Cole. This is interesting because he was so young. Then there was the life that followed. You know, the one that is on the right-hand side of the chart you make when you see a therapist and map out your life.

The “After.”

“After” the event that rocked everything we knew. When Caleb’s dad left and mom became addicted and suicidal. When I started cutting myself and my sister retreated into a fantasy world and our house was decrepit and CPS got called. When everybody’s grades dropped and mom didn’t get out of bed and the curtains never got opened because sunlight physically hurt my mom.

By the age of five, Caleb was committed to the pediatric psychiatric ward for the first time. I didn’t even know they admitted children that young.

The first time he tried to commit suicide, he wrapped his belt around his neck and pulled until he blacked out. The only reason he lived past that moment is when he blacked out, his hand relaxed and he couldn’t put tension on the belt anymore.

By age 10, he was in a pretty serious car accident and suffered frontal lobe damage, effecting his impulse control and mood control.

He spent countless time in live-in facilities for youth, psych wards, JDC, cop cars, grown-up jail, hospitals, psychologist offices, psychiatrist offices, youth pastor offices, senior pastor offices. He was in early intervention, had an individual education plan. He was on and off meds including Abilify (an a-typical antipsychotic, and actually he had some of the most success with it), seizure meds, antidepressants, mood stabilizers. Some worked, some didn’t. Sometimes they didn’t work because he didn’t take them and sometimes they didn’t work because they weren’t right.

There were diagnoses of ADD, ADHD, Mood Disorder (NOS). The list went on and on.

In his early teens, he was tentatively diagnosed with Asperger’s, effectively the last of many that never quite fit. It still wasn’t a perfect answer, as he didn’t even truly fit the mold for that, but the treatments that worked for him fell in line with similar treatments for people on the spectrum.

He attended high school at the Center for Autism and Dyslexia, a year round school owned and operated by an amazing woman who seriously spent her life understanding the mind of the Autistic/Asperger’s/Dyslexic child – and formed education plans the help them succeed. Indeed, that school was a light in a dark time for my brother. He’d just come from public school where he was nearly expelled. What for, you ask. Not necessarily for being unruly. But my brother was a protector at heart. So if he or someone he loved was being bullied, he charged like an angry bull seeing red. He graduated, likely by the skin of his teeth.

But these are just his stats.

They don’t tell you truly who he was. They don’t tell you about how Caleb flew into rages. How, seven years my junior, he beat me to the floor with a vacuum cleaner cord once because mom wasn’t home and we didn’t have a lot of food and one box of Kraft Macaroni and cheese doesn’t adequately feed three growing kids and he was hungry. Or how he used to crawl into bed with me in the middle of the night because he felt bugs on him all the time and it scared him.

They don’t tell you about how once we woke up and found him in his bed covered in what looked like a really unhealthy amount of poop but upon further investigation turned out to really be Swiss cake rolls. How he made us laugh with ridiculous jokes. These stats don’t tell you how he fought his nature in the most heroic way I’ve ever seen, trying to seek and maintain a relationship with Christ. They don’t tell you about how he asked Jesus into his heart, or how two weeks later he walked into the living room and told my mom he didn’t know if he believed in God because he prayed every night for God to make him stop being such a disappointment and every day, he disappointed everyone all over again.

Caleb’s finger nails looked like he’d taken them to eighty grit sandpaper. He was particular about clothes because finding something that didn’t make his skin crawl was a challenge. He was a cat person. He loved real-cam anything and to hunt and fish and shoot. He once made a toy pistol out of PVC pipe and before he would even hold it by the “handle,” he made me buy the brightest neon orange spray paint, so nobody would think he had a real gun.He didn’t want to scare anyone.

He wanted to be a special education teacher, because for all his faults, he felt deeplyfor people. He would sob upon seeing a homeless person. He once stopped - without a coat - in a frigid Ohio snow storm to help two women with a flat tire. He saved countless animals. He built incredible things with Legos.

He was impulsive and loud and incredible and hilarious and sometimes, he was even mean. He was a God damn hurricane, complete with flying furniture, flooding tears and an aftermath that rivaled Noah’s rainbow.

And you know what? I would rather have him running up my cable bill, buying porn and stealing my change to buy me a damn gift than be left with pictures of a bare bulb in a closet and memories that will neverbe enough.

Because for all the things that I saw in him, Caleb, well, didn’t.

He wasn’t good enough.

Not good enough for his father to stay, for his girlfriend to love, for our brother to live, for his brain to work right. He wasn’t good enough for his youth pastor to help or for therapy or meds or jail to work. He didn’t just slip through the cracks, he was sometimes shoved into them by the very people who now stand at a pulpit or podium and tell people to bring their troubles to them.

And frankly, I don’t know that Caleb could ever feel our love. And because of that, you couldn’t experience Caleb (because he truly was an experience) and think that his behavior ever indicated how he actually felt about you. He treated his family like crap sometimes and he treated his enemies with respect and showed them love. But can you imagine what it’s like to not truly understand love? He was – for lack of a more appropriate term – frustrated, his entire twenty years.

And he was pissed off. And scared. And tired.

And on April 13th, my brother left this world the same way he entered it – heartbroken.

_______________________________________________________

If I could ask a favor: just take a second and say my brother’s name out loud. His name is Caleb. Please whisper it, yell it, say it in pig-latin. I don’t care. Just for a second, remember him for me.

Now do the same for yourself. That is your name. It is a single word that ineffectively, yet poignantly sums up your life experiences and who you are. Someone may have your name, but nobody has your life. Comment your name, and I’ll say it too. Nobody should be forgotten, dead or alive.

This is the part where I would tell you that if you or someone you know is struggling with suicidal thoughts and tendencies, please contact the Suicide Hotline at 1-800-273-8255 and also link you to their website, and tell you that you can also text them at 741741if that’s your preferred method of communication. And obviously, I just did all that.

But I’ll also tell you this, I get it. Talking to a stranger is comforting to some and seems like an easy pass-off for others. On the one hand, knowing a stranger will never see your face and that you can spill your deep, dark secrets and obtain some semblance of unity with them can be comforting. Personally, it makes me mad because I don’t want to talk to a stranger. I want to talk to someone who knows me. But everybody has a preference.

But you can message me, and I WILL message you back. I know I’m not much different than someone on the end of the phone, except maybe far less qualified, but maybe we won’t be strangers when it’s all said and done.

I, however, am in no way a mental health professional. Talking helps, but there is also a time when you have to seek professional help. The links above take you to the direct websites where you can seek out help and resources in your area.

Tune in soon for Chapter 1, if you’re so inclined.

[kaminosoath]

STATIK: =With Sirius GONE without so much as a warning notice (and along with her their mother and Ananya), Statik was a bit...agitated at about half her family. She understood the need, of course, but it didn't make it any less frustrating that they LEFT WITHOUT HER???=

STATIK: =Going on five minutes now, she had been pacing about the tech lab, feeling a little antsy and restless. She had to get out, and so she left, making a beeline straight for one block, even though she wasn't entirely aware she was headed there.=

STATIK: =When she crossed their door, she wet her lower lip, a little daunted. She'd been a bit...well...her usual ass of a self lately and didn't want to crowd them so soon after she'd made a scene... But in her opinion there had been sufficent time between then and now and she felt like she had given appropriate space? Even so, she missed them, and they were going to know it. There's a familiar knockin on Simula's door, always in some kind of musical rhythm to spice things up.=

SIMULA: -ah yes, the tell tale signs of statik's arrival. they'd been curled up on their bed for a while, drifting in and out of a nap. having company brought about some conflicting feelings, moreso than usual. caught between that need for attention and the ever growing fear that something is going to go awry. ultimately, they give in to the former desire, and opens the door from where they're lying. they only move to sit up, glancing over at her.-

SIMULA: Hell-o. Come in. Not that you need an invitation.

STATIK: hey hey simCard ⚡ =She notices that recently-awake expression and raises her brows, but accepts the invitation into their room= i didnt interrupt your beauty sleep did i? ⚡

SIMULA: -musses with their own hair, shrugging a shoulder. they might not be the most emotive person usually, but they definitely seem extra lethargic.- You could hard-ly consider it that, if II look as shit-ty as II feel.

STATIK: =she threw an arm over one of their shoulders and pulled them into a side hug= STATIK: this is only a small speed bump. youll be beautiful again, no worries ⚡ KD

STATIK: =that is she tried throwing and arm over their shoulders.=

STATIK: =She tried, she probably only could reach one of them properly, then ended up just crossing and arm over their back.=

STATIK: =even as she jokes, her expression does flicker into a worried one=

STATIK: you looK as exhausted a deer being traCKed by an enduranCe hunter ⚡

SIMULA: -rubs at their eyes now, accepting the little scraps of affection.- It's noth-ing. II just made the mis-take of leav-ing my room again to-day.

STATIK: K(

STATIK: do i need to KiCK someones ass? ⚡

STATIK: ...

STATIK: do i need to KiCK my own ass? ⚡

SIMULA: ... No.

SIMULA: Some-thing stu-pid hap-pened. -huffs a small sigh-

SIMULA: II was hang-ing out with Dell in the cafeteria. Emilet was there. Silliness en-sued, basically. But it escalated and Dell got irrationally frustrated and-- Chucked his tri-dent at Emilet.

SIMULA: II on-ly bare-ly stopped it.

SIMULA: May-be he deserves an ass kick-ing. But II will be frank, II'm get-ting a bit tired of acts of physical violence.

STATIK: K\ oh my god... ⚡

STATIK: it Keeps HAPPENING ⚡⚡

STATIK: youre the Captain's kid! file a Complaint! start a petition! ⚡

STATIK: ill even sign it for you! ⚡

SIMULA: -scoffs- What, like an an-ti-bullying pact?

SIMULA: There's noth-ing II can do to stop peo-ple from be-ing impulsive idiots.

STATIK: =scoffs right back= NOT WITH THAT ATTITUDE! ⚡⚡

STATIK: when there are meetings in alternia's judiCiary, the league has to leave their weapons at the door and wear suppression Collars that are aCtivated during any signs of aggression. it was to avoid wrongful death. that was a problem for a while until it was solved! ⚡ CK

SIMULA: -looks.... reasonably horrified by this.- Eugh.

SIMULA: As aw-ful as Alternian cus-toms are, II sup-pose you're mak-ing a good point.

SIMULA: ... -long suffering sigh- II could al-ways talk to my fath-er, at least.

STATIK: =She didn't see anyone piledrive someone to death herself, she just HEARD things. And had a near-death experience that sent her straight back to the UU but that was a different thing entirely=

STATIK: of Course i am! ⚡⚡ OK

STATIK: =She pulled them into a tight hug, and her voice dropped a little softer,= what happened, it really bothered you, didn't it? ⚡ :C

SIMULA: ... -leans into her hug, nodding a little, unable to vocalize it.-

STATIK: it suCKs a lot to have someone you Care about be in danger ⚡

SIMULA: -glances at her, supposing she must know, if the way she's continually reacted to the finncident was any indication.- ... Yes. It does. -nonchalantly nuzzles at her shoulder a little.-

STATIK: then say something, sim! ⚡

STATIK: and if people don't listen, Keep saying something until they do ⚡

SIMULA: -quiets until she feels a little bit of wetness on her shoulder.- It feels... point-less.

STATIK: =she broke from the hug, and dipped her head, trying to look up at them=

STATIK: why?? ⚡⚡

SIMULA: -averts their gaze , but they can't hide the tears swelling in their mismatched eyes.- II made my bed a long time a-go.

SIMULA: II could keep try-ing, but why would anyone lis-ten to me? II don't de-serve the time of day.

SIMULA: II push-ed everyone a-way. That's what II want-ed. And now II'm-- -they can't believe they're letting themself break down like this, but everything hurt so badly, worse then the headache and the sparks erupting from the emotion, they couldn't hold it in anymore.-

SIMULA: II feel so a-lone.

SIMULA: Some-times II feel like you're the on-ly one who actually gives a fuck when it comes down to it.

SIMULA: Everyone is so fuck-ing con-tent to turn the oth-er cheek to-wards actual physical harm again-st me.

SIMULA: But II earned that, didn't II. This is what II get for be-ing such an ass-hole all the time.

STATIK: =she started off squinting at them, but the more they cry, the more her own tears begin to well up.=

STATIK: dont say that its not too late! i Can say for an absolute faCt that satomi and siri Care... ⚡

STATIK: but siri liKes everybody, so she doesnt Count ⚡

STATIK: looK looK looK ⚡

STATIK: =She sniffed as she squinted and placed each hand on their shoulders.=

STATIK: you didnt earn shit, and everyone else who is being an asshole about this doesnt Know a single thing about you ⚡

STATIK: they dont Care beCause its EASIER turning the other CheeK ⚡

STATIK: its easier for them thinKing theyre so freaKing PERFECT and trying to single you out beCause youre more honest about it that you arent ⚡

STATIK: they Cant grasp the ConCept theyre not as high and mighty as they maKe themselves out to be ⚡

STATIK: =her words are getting a bit snappish and angrier=

STATIK: and you Know what? they're fuCKing hypoCritiC COWARDS beCause of it! ⚡⚡

STATIK: theyre small and insignifiCant and they Cant stand it so theyre trying to maKe YOU feel that way! their tiny minds have tiny Cruel little thoughts and they arent worth shit! ⚡

STATIK: =she put a hand up to their face= youre worth way more than all of them together ⚡

SIMULA: -there's more to be conflicted about after hearing this. whether they should listen and let themself be comforted. whether it's true, whether it even matters if it's true or not. statik cared. statik saw them as something great, and not just despite the ugliness, but because of it too. they effectively lost the battle trying to keep her at bay along with everyone else. and... they're fine with that.-

SIMULA: You know... -sniffs, tentatively reaching to touch her face too. almost hesitant.- You real-ly are such an an-gry lit-tle per-son.

SIMULA: II think you give me too much cred-it. But II won't ar-gue eith-er.

SIMULA: ... Thank you, Stat-ik. For... be-ing here.

STATIK: im angry beCause all this pisses me off!! ⚡ KO

STATIK: but i wont deny im little ⚡

STATIK: =she leans into their touch, and laughs a slightly soggy laugh= and if i give you too muCh Credit, it's Cause you give yourself none ⚡

STATIK: im always gonna be here, sim. ⚡

STATIK: ...im sorry i stayed away ⚡

SIMULA: That doesn't mat-ter now. -insists, fidgeting a little before leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead.-

STATIK: =her face is turning a marvelous shade of GREEN, but not because she's sick. Statik doesn't move, because she's not sure how to take all these butterflies slamming themselves into the walls of her abdomen. Does she DARE?? Gradually though, she moved the hand she had on their face and lightly kissed the area where her touch had been.=

SIMULA: -a noise rumbles out of them like a purr -- a good indication that this is a good direction to head in. their head dips as they lean in, cheeks brushing, till they're simplying draping themself over her in another hug.-

STATIK: =Relief washed over her and she patted their face before pulling them closer in her arms, crossing her limbs over their back.=

STATIK: i wont do that to you again, oKay? i'm here for you. i'll always be here for you. ⚡

STATIK: =squeezes=

SIMULA: Then... you should stay here. Un-til II let you leave. -mumbles into her shoulder. this is what happens, statik. you give them an inch and they take a mile.-

STATIK: =There is a smile to her voice and she leaned her cheek against theirs.=

STATIK: there was only ever one option, i thinK ⚡

SIMULA: -they purr softly again, leaning heavily against her until they're both flopping back onto the bed. it's snuggle time...-

STATIK: =With Simula in her arms and she in theirs, it finally felt right. She nuzzled against them, purring herself.=