#it's about the final step of the barbies taking back what was theirs to begin with

[fallenandrogyne]

Barbie (2023)

[mysticvampyre]

Give me an O

Ok i had this little gem on my phone for a while n finally decided I'm ready to post it. If your a fan of Gotham you may like it. Unless u don't like Jerome... but who are we kidding how can you not like Jerome?!

You know , if someone would have told me a week ago I'd be standing next to an escaped convict , watching him and his loonies try to blow up a bus full of my classmates I would have told them they were out of there minds.

Guess I was wrong.

Maybe I should start at the beginning... befor the bus incident. Let's go back a bit shall we.

I was the unwanted product of some strung out whore and an equally as terrible father. Neither cared for nor wanted me.( A fact that I was constantly reminded of my entire life at the orphanage.)

I was unceremoniously wrapped in a ratty blanket and left outside, next to a dumpster in a back alley in the Narrows not too long after I was born. It was later I was told someone found me not too long after and brought me to the rundown shit hole of an orphanage I was currently part of, but not for much longer.

I was one of those kids, you know the ones. The ones that never get chosen. The ones who especially in a facility like I live in sit and rot till we turn 18 and they aren't responsible for us anymore. Well we need to get educated too. So they send us to school. Dress us up and make is look presentable like we're actually productive members of society. Honestly though horrible hand me downs and sub par living conditions does not make one many friends in school. It was because of just that reason that I wound up on that God forsaken bus in the first place. The reason I was on my way to some dumb, happy, peppy cheer leading rally. The reason I met HIM!

I had been suffering for a while between the living conditions at the orphanage and the people at school. I wasn't the model student. I was smart I'll give you that but as far as participation goes. It was non existent on my part and I rather liked it that way. I was the kid always on their own in the corner, quiet, standoffish, bullied.

It was for this reason the genius ( and I use that term very loosely) of a guidance counceler decided that "Perhaps if she were to join in an activity with her peers she would be a more productive member of society."

So with a lot of cajoling by the counselor the faculty and orphanage agreed to let me join the cheerleading squad. JOY! ( Can you hear the sarcasm dripping in my voice because trust me it is)

The orphanage was happy to let me go. More time I was someone else's problem the less time I was theirs. I mean I wasn't going to be their problem much longer anyway. A few weeks and I'd be 18 and no longer their problem. Hell, they probably had my bed already ready for the next poor sap that would become one of Gotham's finest dregs of society.

So that leads me to where I was currently. On a small bus full of superficial people I hated. Waiting to go to an activity I hated even more. So as always I sat in the back of the bus, up against the window waiting to get this ridiculous farce over with.

We were just getting ready to pull away for the trip when we suddenly heard horns blaring like crazy. I payed it no mind however. I mean come on it's Gotham, if this town was ever quiet it would be a small miracle.

It wasn't till I heard the crowd of panic go up from my class mates that I even bothered to glace up from my book there were men on the bus chaining up my classmates. Not that I cared but when my book was ripped out of my hand and tossed aside I started to pay attention.

I was unceremoniously handcuffed to the seat in front of me, needless to say I was a bit annoyed while listening to the cries and whimpers of my fellow classmates. To be honest it was really doing my head in.

That was when HE stepped on the bus. The Ginger lunatic with the Cheshire cat grin. I have to say the straitjacket suited him nicely.

He was down the center of the aisle gun waving about loosely in his hand. "I want you all to know this was a very difficult decision for us. It was between you and a senior citizen bingo party."

He put the barrel of the gun up to Shannons head as she whimpered and tugged on her chains. Eventually he began making his way further to the back of the bus towards me.

"In the end we decided to scew a little younger." He continued, the grin never leaving his face. He was almost right near me now. A few seats ahead we heard someone let out a strained sob of "why?" He turned to look over his shoulder at where it came from

I rolled my eyes and turned to the ginger. "Hey, do me a favor red."

Suddenly he was staring straight at me. I felt a small chill run down my spine. "If your gunna kill us either start with her..." I said trying to motion ahead of me with the chains on

"Now where would be the fun in that when dragging it out would be so much more fun!"

" You know that saying about all it takes is one bad day... Well this is my one bad day so if you don't intend on killing that bubble headed bleach blind Barbie then please just shoot me n just put me outta my misery so I don't have to hear their endless whining."

He smile that unsettling smile and gave a chuckle. " I like this one Greenwood ... she's got spunk!" He said shaking the gun nonchalantly in my direction.

He leaned on the seat in front of me hands crossed under his chin. "What's your name doll face?"

I tried to give the most unimpressed look I could but I have to admit as unsettling as this nut in the straightjacket was, there was a certain charm to him.

"It's Raven. What's yours funny man?" He put the gun down on the seat in front of me.

"Well since you asked so nicely pretty bird.." he pinched my cheeks "It's Jerome, doll."

Stupidly as we were having our little exchange the girl in front of me tried to reach for the gun. BIG mistake on her part. Quicker than a flash Jerome snatched up the gun, cocked it and had it pointing at her temple.

"Now why would you go and do something like that? I'm just trying to have a nice conversation with my little bird and honestly I'm feeling so attacked right now."

"Of course the psycho would talk to the psycho that's trying to kill us all."

"Oh shut it Chad" I snapped.

"Yah. . . Shut it Chad." Jerome mocked be for turning the gun upside down and whipping Chad across the face with it. I whispered out an almost inaudible thanks as Jerome started walking back up the aisle.

"Youth won the day...Sorry." Jerome said as he walked up to the door of the bus and took a hose from one of the escaped loonies.

Before he turned it on he made a motion to me and said something I couldn't quite make out. Next thing I knew one of the loonies were coming in my general direction and unlocked the chains from around my wrists.

I was then hauled up and shoved up the aisle toward a smiling Jerome. "Now you be a good little bird and stay here, maybe daddy will let you fly free when this is all over."

"Daddy?" I said arching an eyebrow. He shivered and smiled. "Oh I like that...say it again doll."

I looked at him like he's lost his mind. Grabbing me around the waist he pulles me close to him hips pressed tight against his. My hands automatically grabbed at his straitjacket he used one hand to brush some of my hair behind my ear before leaning in closer his lips just inches from my ear. "I said ... say it again."

"Daddy." The reply came out shaker than I expected it. Just as quick as his hands were on me they were gone.

"Give me an O!" Jerome shouted. Yet no one answered thet just kept on whining and crying. Jerome raised the pistol and let off a single shot causing me to duck and hold my ears and nearly stumble down the step.

"I said give me an O." Jerome repeated before the others weakly echoed him back with terror trembling in their voices.

"Give me an N." Again the letter was repeated back.

"Give me another O!" Again everyone responded.

"What does that spell???" He reached between me and one of the lunatics taking a hose handed to him.

"Oh no." Was the response I heard but couldn't tell if it had been Jerome or the loony next to me. The next thing I knew I was watching Jerome open the hose valve and douse the bus load of classmates with gas as the bus exploded into a chorus of sheer screams of terror. Next thing I know I was dragged rather roughly down the steps of the bus to the street outside.

When he had his fill of dousing the brats on the bus he walked out of the bus, hose slung over his shoulder before tossing it aside and reaching into his back pocket for a lighter.

"Ready...ok." Jerome shouted as he bent down next to the stairs and flick

The lighter a few times. It wouldn't light. He turned around looking to where the maniacs and I stood shook his head and shrugged a bit. "This is so embarassing."

"I guess it's true what they say. SOME people just want to watch the world burn." I said and let out a small chuckle. Jerome chuckled as well. "Oh, I really like you birdy." He said before hopping back onto the bus.

Anyone got a light?" At that I broke into a fit of laughter. As the screams on the bus only grew louder.

"I do." One of the maniacs near me said as he walked to Jerome flicking the lighter a few times. The piercing sound of sirens suddenly filled the air as we all turned to look at the cars arriving on scene. I stood beside Jerome gripping a hand on his shoulder. He looked over at me before standing directly in front of me.

"Stand your ground boys. They won't shoot at a bus." I guess he was wrong because a shoot our commensed. Again I was holding my ears as shots rang out around me.

"Eric, Greenwood, get the truck started we're gonna blow this barbeque."

He spun around taking a few shots at a cop in a suit before the gun clicked indicating he was out of ammo. He spun the gun in his hand before letting it fall to the floor making a motioned with his hand he shouted out.

"Light em up!" He grabbed my hand and helped me onto the step of the truck. Once I was up he grabbed the hose and started spraying more fuel all around. He soon jumped up next to me and almost slipped. I reached out grabbing his jacket to stead him. Hose still in hand Jerome let out a whoop as the truck started to drive off.

I almost slipped at that point and wrapped my arms around Jeromes waist. He began laughing maniacally as we drove away from the scene. That's when I heard the boom and squeezed onto Jerome tighter. "If you wanted to touch me doll face all you had to do was ask."

He wanted to tease did he... Two can play this game. I don't know what was going on in my head but the next thing I knew I was nuzzling his neck putting my lips close to his ear. "If I wanted to touch you it wouldn't be to hold your waist."

I slid one hand down his waist to the strap between his legs and gave it a tug. He chuckled a bit as I fiddled with the buckle ( hey I was doing this with one hand after all) Once it was finally opened i let it drop from my hand. "It would be much more fun to touch you here. Wouldn't it ... Daddy?" I whispered against his ear as I let my hand absentmindedly ghost up and down over his pants before giving his earlobe a playful nip to emphasize my point.

Jerome let out a small growl and a chuckle. "Oh we are going to have so much fun together dollface."

[stilinski-jpeg]

When Chasing Love (NSFW 18+)

A/N: Hiii, this is like my first ever Stuart fic. I’ve technically done one with the Hoes a while back but this is my first individual one. The title of this was based off a poem by Michael Faudet that is the bases for this fic. I want to thank @writing-obrien as usual for being my biggest motivator and helper, but I’m also going to thank her for any future help she will undoubtly lend me. This is really different than I’ve written before, but it was the best way I could think to give a good perspective from all sides instead of one. I also wanted to try this style of writing out, because I do plan on writing a Styida fic at some point. I hope you guys like this and thank you all for being wonderfully beautiful people.

Warning: Public Fingering and Alcohol Abuse (Because again, they’re drunk.)

Word Count: 3847

When chasing love — at any cost —

The pathways meet — but seldom cross.

I dream of dream —

Once dreamt, now lost.

How sunshine steals From autumn frost.

  –Michael Faudet

Stuart walked into the building already hating everything about it. He'd had a relatively good night's sleep, made himself a breakfast that wasn't cereal, and was wearing his favourite beanie. But something about the pretentious white colour of the walls, rubbed him the wrong way. He walked down the corridor until it opened up to the jungle of cubicles that he called work. There were already syncopated chatters of keyboards and phones ringing in an offbeat melody, that had his nerves on edge.

He turned down the aisle that his desk was at and threw his satchel on the ground before slouching in his chair. He added to the musical diapason with his own clicks of his keyboard as he logged into his computer. As he leisurely checked his email, he heard it. The sound he dreaded to hear every morning when she walked in. Her vexatious heels clacked against the tile floors as she greeted everyone she passed. What was most irritating for him was that she didn't even know the people she said hi to. She did it out of the “kindness” of her heart. Just that thought alone made him rolls his eyes. No one was that nice on purpose. Someone that nice always had a hidden agenda.

You see, Stuart’s iQ was off the charts. He was a borderline genius. Yet he found himself in this rinky dink office with people that may as well be pumping gas. But what other choice did Stuart have? He'd been denied for his applications for interning and entry level positions to some of the world best technology institutions. The one he wanted most being Google. So, he'd have to wait another year to apply and until then he was forced to work any job he could get.

“Morning I.T.” She peeked her head into our row, wiggling her fingers in our direction.

Every guy in the row paid her their full attention, chiming hello back almost in unison. All except Stuart who ignored her existence all together.

“You boys working hard?” She said so sickly sweet, Stuart was sure he’d become a diabetic.

“Always!” Jerry piped up, his cheeks reddening and his voice an octave higher than usual.

She smiled, the kind of smile that showed all her teeth. Stuart glanced up out of his peripheral catching sight of it. He couldn't deny that she was easy on the eyes. She had beautiful legs, which she must have known because she wore pencil skirts or tight dresses everyday. Her hair was long and silky, framing her face as if it was only meant to do just that. Her ass was pretty nice too. But that smile, you'd regret taking a look if you hadn't.

“Well, keep up the hard work boys!” She sang turning to walk away.

“Oh, and good morning Stu.”

She did this every single morning. He wasn't sure what made her think it was a good idea, but she'd started calling him that his second day in. Even though he'd explained to her countless times he didn't like anyone calling him that. But, she ignored the only request he ever made of her and continued to call him that anyways.

Stuart turned his head to say something snarky, when someone called her name grabbing her attention away from him. She smiled differently than she had earlier. It was wider, making her eyes almost squint up a little.

“Hi.” She sang, a fakeness to the word.

It was that. That right there that made him hate her. Everyone liked her, but she was faker than a barbie. He turned back around in his chair shaking his head and starting his annoyingly boring day, like he did everyday.

“I also just want to remind everyone that tonight is our annual company banquet. It is not mandatory you come, but must show up.”

Stuart scoffed at his boss, pulling out his phone a flicking through it. Saying that it wasn't mandatory means we didn't have to show up, but his boss loved to make a good impression with the higher ups. So if you didn’t show up than you were the red headed step child for at least a month. So definitely against his will, Stuart would be going to his stupid company party.

“Don't worry, Bro. After party at my place.” Stuart’s friend Curtis whispered.

Stuart's lips quirked up, but he didn't look away from his phone. His friends and coworkers had come to know that this was his way of responding. Nothing was more important than his phone.

“Oh, Chloe.” Stuart's boss chimed, an obnoxious smile on his face.

And there she was again, hovering like a nat. She smiled a heart stopping smile, before waving him on to continue his speech. She listening as if she was actually interested but Stuart guessed that she probably wasn't. She was doing her due diligence and paying “close” attention, when in reality she couldn't care less. She peeked down at him from where she was standing, he didn't notice and even if he had he wouldn't have cared. She could just barely make out what was on his screen, from what Chloe could see he was scrolling through instagram.

Chloe cleared her throat, catching Stuart's boss’s attention. “Sorry to interrupt Lyle, but I'm pretty sure Stuart here would love to help out with cleaning up at the banquet tonight.”

There was an eerie silence that fell over the group of guys, all staring expectantly at Stuart who continued to scroll through his phone.

“Right Stuart?” She hummed sweetly.

Stuart replied with a grunt, earning a smile from Chloe. Honestly, there was no one in the world that she couldn't stand more than Stuart. He thought he was better than everyone else, he was lazy, and he always looked like he'd rather be anywhere but in the office constantly.

“A-awesome.” Lyle replied, eyeing Stuart skeptically waiting for him to pipe up and refuse to help. But he didn't Stuart didn't say anything. Chloe beamed as she flipped her hair over her shoulder and walked away, her heels clacking with her.

“Dude…” Curtis nudged his friend.

Stuart looked up thoroughly annoyed. His brows were furrowed and his face was the very definition of ‘WTF?’ The rest of the I.T. guys went back to work, while Curtis explained to Stuart what just happened.

“That bitch.” He spat, ripping his glasses from his face to massage the bridge of his nose.

“Dude, you gotta look up at the world sometimes. You're missing out.”

Stuart wasn't listening to his friend's words of wisdom, he was beyond angry at the girl he already didn't like but was sure at this point he hated. He would get her back for this if it was the last thing he did.

Stuart still hadn't decide his plot for revenge as he walked into the large dining hall. Maybe if this were his first annual banquet, he might be dazzled by the low fancy light and the expensive looking decoration. But it wasn't his first banquet and he wasn't easily impressed.

He eyed a waiter walking around holding a tray of champagne and Stuart decide that if he had to be here all night, he'd earned the right to be a little tipsy. He'd downed his third glass, when he finally found the table with his name card on it. He felt good now, a little less uptight than normal. There were already other guest seated, but Stuart knew none of them. He, unlike some people, didn't waste his time trying to learn the names of every person he worked with. Stuart pulled out his phone, wanting to look at anything but the drag that was this party.

“Oh Chloe, darling!” A blonde lady sitting directly across from Stuart, chirped.

Stuart's blooded instantly boiled at her name and before he knew it she plopped down next to him, sipping a half empty glass of champagne. She ignored him, acting if the seat next to her were empty as she socialised with guest around the table. He tried his best to ignore her, but she was right there.

She was wearing a small sparkly black dress, with a huge cut out in the back. Her hair was looped in perfect curls that strewn down her back. He glanced up at her for the briefest of moments, watching the way she moved. She was working the table, asking about this couple’s kids, and that girl’s college basketball team. She nodded her head when necessary and hummed when needed. But Stuart suspect that she's didn't care about any of it.  She never lent her own stories to the conversation, just let people go on about theirs. It was stalley impressive, but when someone asked Stuart a question and she rolled her eyes and knocked back her fourth(or fifth he wasn't sure) drink. He hated her all over again.

“So, what do you do?” The same blonde lady from earlier asked. Stuart clicked his phone off and sat up a little straighter in his seat. His throat felt dry at the thought of responding to the women.

“Yeah Stu. Why don't you enlighten us on your enticing job.” Chloe gushed sarcastically.

She looked over at me, her hair bouncing behind her. Just as Stuart opened his mouth to reply, a spoon clinking against the side of a glass resounded throughout the room. A formally dressed man stood at the front of the room with a microphone in his hand. He was the President of the company, Mr. Chetty. He looked tentatively round the collective members of the banquet guests, before beginning the same monologue he recited every year.

Chloe’s mouth snapped shut and she flicked her hair around, leaning back slightly as she paid attention and Stuart’s jaw clenched. He had a full view of the cut out of her dress from this angle, but he wouldn't let that distract him. He pushed her chair away from him slightly. It scraped lightly against the floor, but no one paid the sound any heed. Her body stiffened as she jerked forwards. She threw a venomous look of her shoulder before placing her perfectly painted nails around the base of her chair and scooting it backwards, further than necessary, even closer to him and his nostrils flared.

He pushed her chair again, harsher, catching a few people's attention. Their eyes flicked to him attached with strange looks as the chair ground along the floor, but still the speech resumed. Stuart swallowed thickly and ducked his head, avoiding all eyes. Once again, she jumped backwards, so far backwards that he could see the natural highlights in her hair and smell her perfume. It was a nice one, floraly with a hint of vanilla. He loathed to admit how delicious she smelled.

Taking a different approach, he leaned forward. His hand landed on her thigh to direct her attention and his chin almost resting on her shoulder. “You’re almost sitting on my goddamn lap, doll, any further and you will be.”

His words were toxic as he tried to impregnate them with all the hatred he had for her.

“Don’t act like you wouldn’t just love for me to be sitting there instead of this chair, Stewie.” She bit back and it was the hiss in her voice that startled him, her usual calm and friendly tone gone.

The speech ended at that moment, the room igniting with applauds. Stuart was grateful for the interruption because he was practically choking on his saliva. His hand, though, was still gripping her thigh. He cleared his throat, trying to reinstate his confidence as noisy chatter around the pair began, covering his action. She turned in her seat, facing back to the conversation of the table and returning to ignoring him entirely. The fact that his hand slid up her thigh completely unfazed her. She picked up her conversation with the blonde across the table as if everything was normal.

That got under his skin.

That bugged him.

He may ignore the world but he didn’t like to be ignored, especially not by her. He growled lowly beneath his breath, his hand squeezing her thigh but she didn’t even flinch in her words. Her fingers wrapping around his wrist casually and attempting to pry his hand from her thigh. But she failed, and he smirked.

Her eyes finally moved to him, a grin on her face that she gave everyone, a fake smile and he raised an eyebrow at her cockily. “Problem, Chloe? You look a little flushed.”

“No problem at all Stewie. I'm just trying to placate the child next to me.”

Stuart leaned back in his chair to see the person next to her only to find an elderly woman shakily drinking her tea. He looked back to Chloe, a frown on his face. Her smiled widened, like she knew she was getting to him. Even though, no one got to Stuart. He couldn't, nay, wouldn't let her win. Stuart was, if anything, competitive.

“So, young man,” the blonde woman said grabbing his attention. “What did you say you do again?”

Stuart smirked at the woman, pushing his glasses further up his nose. As he began explaining to her, his hand travel further up Chloe's thigh. She whipped her head to look at him, her eyes widening and her hand squeezing his wrist for him to stop. His other hand rested on his chin as he intently listen to the blonde woman, who's name was Nancy. He skillfully avoided Chloe's eyes as his hand, despite her grip, grazed the lace of her panties. She jerked, gasping, and trying to cover it up as a cough.

“And you and, Stuart here, work at the same building?” Nancy asked, taking a sip of her wine.

Chloe smiled weakly, Stuart was already rubbing small circles into the fabric of her panties just over her clit. He was totally at ease, his smirk still clad in his face as picked up his pace.

“Uh, yes.” Chloe answered, clearing her throat first.

“Do you two work closely together?”

Stuart smiled, upping the ante by pushing her panties to the side and sliding a finger through her folds. She pursed her lips, taking a deep breath before finally answering the woman.

“Very closely.”

Stuart never faltered, keeping up conversations better than he ever had in his life. Chloe could barely follow the discussion, her mind too focused on the way his fingers were plunging into her. They were long and perfectly nimble, closing in on her climax. She poked at her food with her fork, trying to play it cool. His thumb made contact with her clit, roughly moving in circular patterns. She clutched the fork tighter, squeezing her eyes and biting her bottom lip to stifle the sounds that seemed imminent.

“Come on, Chloe.” Stuart whispered lowly, leaning over subtly. “Just come for me.”

Chloe clenched around him, his tone and his words coaxing her but she was determined to hold out on him. She was controlling the situation the only way she knew how. Stuart caught on quickly and smirked, he loved a challenge. He scooted a little closer to her so their chair were touching. She looked up at him, still chewing on her lip. He quirked up an eyebrow, challengingly before curling his finger faultlessly inside her hitting the perfect spot.

She sighed softly, her eyes rolling back. She gripped his arm, leaned into him for support, no longer able to do so herself. She hoped they looked like a couple having a sweet (work party appropriate) moment, instead of the sinful act that was taking place underneath the table.

He could feel how wet she was, how hard she was trying not to come around his fingers. He slowed his pace moderately, now deliberately stroking that spot. She hummed into the sleeve of his shirt, laying her other hand on his leg as she started loosing all control. It wasn't until then that he realised how hard he was. He was so wrapped up in trying to get her to come, that his raging boner came second in his thoughts. He was fully aware of how hot this was. The risk of being caught at any moment wasn't lost on him, but on he went stroking and circling those devious digits until Chloe couldn't hold back any longer and was thrown into her orgasm.

She could feel her whole body shaking as her climax rocked through her. She wanted to cry out, to alleviate the sounds she'd been keeping in but she couldn't. Stuart kept pumping until he was confident she'd been completely satisfied. She looked up at him, to find that he'd been watching her the whole time. Becoming insanely aroused just by her getting off. He removed his fingers from her as she leaned back into her own chair. Her eyes never left him and she watch as he sucked on the same two fingers that were just inside her, cleaning them.

If possible, Chloe was even wetter than she was post come. But she couldn't forget herself. She wasn't entirely sure why whatever had just happened, happened but she still loathed Ol’ Stewie boy and that wasn't going to change just because he skillfully made her come in a room full of people without anyone ever taking notice.

Stuart smirked before he stood, bidding the table goodbye and mentioning something about having cleaning duties to attend to. Chloe felt a slight pang in her stomach at his departure, but instantly caught ahold of herself. This wasn't over, Stuart Stupid Twombly had another thing coming.

Chloe had gotten herself good and drunk at this point. She hadn't done intentionally, but Stuart kept popping up in her head and she had to drown him out somehow. Now, she was on the dance floor swaying to the beat by herself. She was mildly aware that she was embarrassing herself, but in her current state she didn't even care.

Stuart stood on the other side of the room, but from there he could see her perfectly. He too had downed one too many vodka orange juices and was chuckling to himself as he watched the girl twirling to her own beat. His guard was complete down right now so he had no problem admitting to himself how insanely hot she looked tonight. Or how her tiny dress left very little to the imagination. He felt himself harden slightly, and grabbed another glass of champagne as the waiter passed. He chugged it all in one go before tossing the glass in the trashcan he was supposed to be bagging up and taking out to the dumpster.

The song changed to an upbeat tempo and Chloe’s movements changed. They went from silly and girly, to sultry and hypnotic. Her hips swung to the beat, and Stuart couldn't stop watching them. He watched as she circled around, gyrating and he didn't remember her ass looking that good a few seconds ago. He wanted that ass to be grinding into him. But it was Chloe, he reminded himself.

He hated her.

He could see her dress riding up her thighs as she dipped lowly and slowly stood back up and Stuart threw caution to the wind, scurrying over to her. Her back was to him when he came up behind her, grabbing her hips, and pushing them roughly into his. She yelped, although it was barely heard over the music, and craned her neck over her shoulder. She smiled toothily when she saw Stuart, and he hadn't expected that. She faced forward again, now willfully working her ass into his hips. Stuart growled as she bent over slightly, glancing back at with a smile he'd never seen before from her. It wasn't her cocky smile or her fake one. This had to be the most genuine ‘I'm having a good time’ one he'd ever seen her have.

And goddamn was it sexy.

He spun her around, their bodies so close that Chloe could feel his hard member on her thigh. Which adversely had her panties drenched. She, for the first time probably ever, was looking into his eyes. She'd never notice the way the streams of gold swirled around the brown in his eyes. They were quite beautiful, although she'd never ever tell him that.

He held her to him, his fingers finding the cut out of her dress and tucking into it. He imagined himself ripping it off over her, which ultimately lead to him thinking about what she looked like underneath the dress, which also lead to them sprinting out of the room like two crazy idiots.

They barely made it into the hallway before their lips were crashing into each others. Stuart practically threw her into the nearest wall, his lips attacking every inches of skin on her neck they could find. Chloe wasn't complaining though, she was already pulling Stuart's shirt from its untucked position. Eager to be as close to him as possible.

An over exaggerated clearing of someone's snapped both of their attentions up. In unison they looked over to find the shaky old lady that was sitting next to Chloe earlier, looking rather appalled at the pair.

“Keep moving old lady.” Chloe hollered, and Stuart looked at her.

That was not the Chloe he or anyone else knew. Which only solidify they theory he'd been forming since he knew who she was. Chloe was not the girl she pretended to be. She had a fire in her that she dulled, but for the life of him he couldn't figure out why.

The old lady pulled her coat tighter around her, sticking her nose in the air, walking off in her usual shaky fashion. Stuart flipped her off as she walked away and Chloe laughed, pulling Stuart into a long, intentional kiss. She licked at his lips, asking for entrance and he didn't think twice before letting her. He could really taste her now. She mostly tasted like whiskey, but there was also a sweetness to her that made him cup around the sides of her face and push their faces closer together. He couldn't get enough of the taste of her.

When they pulled away, they both felt more intoxicated than they had minutes earlier. Stuart's glasses were foggy from their exchanges of hot and heavy breathing. But as it cleared, it was like Stuart was seeing a whole new person. The girl standing in front of him now was not the prim and proper goody good he loathed. The one standing in front of him was disheveled and in complete disarray and the sexiest woman alive.

He smiled down at her, grasping her hand in his and pulling her along as they searched for an empty banquet hall.

[fckyeslore]

whats your favourite part about state wide competitions? mines the part where theres always that one school whose team sucks, they’re rude, but they win because they have money and hire people to do things for them. And probably bribe the judges.

Put a TL;DR at the bottom because oops this is long

One Act states in the Studio(blackbox) division, final level for the competition as One Act competitions are separated by state, we(Chelsea, my old highschool) had a show called Bang Bang, You’re Dead that made many people cry(including me) and it hit home, since it was a show about a school shooting. Note that this is Studio, and it’s for minimal sets and relying more on the actors putting on a show and their abilites than having something pretty and large to look at, that’s what Main Stage(regular production) division is for.

Everyone who saw it agreed that it was fantastic and deserved a very high ranking. After being lied to about what our lighting situation would be, we had to improv using spotlights and the fullstage lighting, which was fairly annoying, but every school had to deal with it, so /shruggingemoji.

-We were under the 45 minute time limit by 46 seconds, so we were good in that department. 

-We had minimal set pieces, only a largeish wooden coffin in addition to the 6 boxes, 4 LED lights, and our sound system, so we were good in that department. 

-The actors were all doing very well in their roles, both in their presence and with their voice, and all of the people who saw it who I talked to agreed on that, so we were probably good in that department.

-The costumes all worked well and looked good and fit the show, so we were good in that department.

-Characters were developed, so we were good in that department.

-Script was well cut, bar the ending where they were just listing off things that the deceased would never get to do, and like 1/2 the things for the girls ended up being ‘ill never have a boyfriend/get married/go shopping’, so we could have done better in that department. 

-Overall was a stellar show, a few things that could’ve been improved but overall, was very good.

John Glenn, effectively Chelsea’s rival at this point, did a steampunk production of Hamlet. 

-Their acting troupe that was less than stellar, at best, in both their physical presence and their voices, so fuck them in that department.

-But their set was very pretty and large, so they were good but fuck them in that department, since they were going against what the whole division was about.

-The costumes looked nice, so they were good in that department.

-They hit the time limit at 45 flat, but the other people who were timing (even the ones not a part of Chelsea) timed them as 45:01-45:02, which is pretty big, so fuck them in that department.

-Characters weren’t developed, so fuck them in that department.

-A lot of the lines were sexist and the script itself just wasn’t that good imo, so fuck them in that department.

-Overall a very pretty, but not very well done show.

Come time for awards, Chelsea didn’t even get 3rd and wasn’t announced at the ceremony, which caused a bit of an uproar from people once it was done but w/e, this kind of thing happens to us(more on this later) . Turns out there was a tabulation error in our scoring, and we actually got 2nd place. Much better, but can’t take back the fact that we weren’t announced as what we deserved.

CHELSEA FINAL SCORES OUT OF 100:

Judge 1: 88

Judge 2: 94

Judge 3: 85

Guess who got first? John Glenn.

JOHN GLENN FINAL SCORES OUT OF 100:

Judge 1: 99

Judge 2: 99

Judge 3: 99

Everyone’s happy that we came in second and not unranked, but those of us who know John Glenn and have experienced them before in competitions are all mad about the fact that they managed to get first by basically sliding by on the rules.

so y’know how I said that annoying things keep happening to Chelsea? Well let me take you back to my senior year of highschool, where Chelsea put on the production of The Firecracker Incident.

This was before the Studio division was a thing, it was all just one division. This was the year that that changed. The results of this made so many people so mad that a few major schools in the program (including Chelsea) put together a case about how having a separate division for blackbox/studio shows would be beneficial as it would give the schools who have less money a chance to compete in something. It passed, but only after a lot of fighting.

=The Firecracker Incident was a tragicomedy about 14y/o Joe who just got moved into his sister’s closet, which had gotten the door removed on it. He was then grounded for the entire summer after he just “happened” to tie one of her Barbie dolls to a black cat firecracker. His best friend then breaks him out and takes him over to his house where he goes on an adventure that ends up in someone almost dying. We performed it as a blackbox, the only props we had for the entire show were 6 black boxes, 4 picture frames, two prop swords, a stick (it’s a staff), a bow with fake arrows, and a blanket.

We’re at John Glenn for Regionals, the step before States, the place where the points actually matter. Between the last show being done and the awards being given out, everyone that I talked to said consistently that 2 shows were the best out of the ones that they saw and that they stood above the others; The Firecracker Incident, and one of the schools’ production of The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee. 

John Glenn’s show that year was another poorly performed show, Pan(I think?? I can’t actually find anything on it but I’m pretty sure that’s what it was called). There was mucho problems with the script, with sexism and rape jokes being not the least of them. But, as usual, they had a really big set that was very grand and pretty, and they had a full cast all in wonderful costumes and everything.

It comes time for the awards, and only two schools are going to make it onto states. The first school announced (who basically came in second) is... not Chelsea, or the school that did the Spelling Bee. Everyone cheers and claps out of formalities, but are a little confused. The second school announced (who basically came in first) is... John Glenn. Everyone cheers and claps out of formalities, but are very confused and I watch at least 5 people walk out of the room at that point. The rest of the awards are given and anytime that Chelsea’s name was called out for one, the judges got a small look of disdain on their face and said our name with some contempt, not enough to point it out to them and ask why or bring it up to anyone who matters, but those of us in the audience heard it and saw it. We couldn’t do anything about it, but we noticed it.

Now, the judges reaction to our show could be summed up in saying that they basically just didn’t understand the show at all. They just straight up didn’t get it. -At the beginning we had some people do some stage combat with swords (and some magic guys) to tell people that it started off as a game. The audience saw it as exciting and a cool way to do things. The judges saw it as unnecessary and unsafe, even though we had a professional come in and teach the two actors how to do it, and the judges were informed of this. 

-A little later on we had people holding up very large picture frames and do various poses to show that they were posters in the basement, since Joe’s friend is a massive WoW nerd. The judges words were “I didn’t understand that and it just didn’t seem necessary, it distracted from the scene as a whole”.

and they just kept pecking at this small stuff and didn’t really impact the whole show, or it just showed that they didn’t understand it and didn’t want to put effort into understanding it. (Because let’s be real here, you’ve been a part of theater for at least 20 years and you haven’t heard of World of Warcraft? You’re trying to find excuses)

And its been this way for as long as anyone in the Chelsea HS Theater group can remember, if John Glenn is competing against Chelsea, they will ‘mysteriously’ come out on top, even though Chelsea has the better show. Now sure, it’s theoretically possible that they out perform us and we just have horrible luck, but that’s really unlikely because everyone always loves our show. Like, in the hallways, people will make a point to say that they love Chelsea’s show, and not every school gets that. So people have pieced together 2 main theories for this:

1. The judges are fucking idiots and care most about how the production looks rather than the contents of the show. But this is disproven by the fact that there are other schools who also have very large and pretty sets, but lose to John Glenn, even if the actors perform much better and the script is better.

2. John Glenn High School bribes judges.

Now we can’t bring either of these up, because we have no solid proof of anything, it’s just a lot of speculation, but there’s enough evidence there that the schools agree that something’s fishy. But we can’t bring anything up. So we have to just deal with it.

TL;DR Fuck John Glenn, they can go get disqualified from everything ever until the end of forever. Other schools earn their wins, they buy theirs, and it’s been this way for a while, and we can’t do a damn thing about it.