#memories of jamming out to it in the car with my friends. then clicking skip 100+ times on my friend's ipod shuffle just to play it again

[giantkillerjack]

Anastasia the Musical sucks so bad. They really said "We're gonna cut the best song from the movie - just axe the absolute banger that is 'In the Dark of the Night' - because we are being SERIOUS and GROWN-UP now. We are A Big Historical Realism Musical Now. This is FOR REAL, okay!? We don't have a SILLY villain like Rasputin! We have Gleb! [Please Just Clap.] We are HISTORICALLY GROUNDED. -- Anyway, here's a musical unironically glorifying the Russian monarchy~~ 💖😌💖😌💖😌💖"

[orangepurin45]

𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐈𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐎𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐫!! - 𝐂𝐨𝐩! 𝐈𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐳𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐇𝐚𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐗 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐏.𝐭 1

WARNING: Guns, some Yanderish themes (Oikawa is protective of Bara-arms), Blood, Drug dealing delivery, 🔞triggering sexual content 🔞, Angst, Fluff?, Slight!IwaOi, Mentions of past humiliation & trauma (high-school bullying)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

This is my first time writing btw. Happy Reading! if not the exit is over there 👉🚪.

Papers sprawled all over the desk, strings attached each other to another. A loud sip from the bulky man and a paper flip to side then eyes rose up to the photo of you grinning like a mischievous fox with red lips and taunting eyes screaming "CATCH ME IF YOU DARE," vibe Hajime grit his teeth glaring at your dirty face.

L/n Y/n, also know as the dark phoenix, Japan's most notorious drug dealing, homicide, and man-woman torturer and murderer in the whole country.

Everyone fears you.

Everyone obey at you.

Everyone believes you are the end.

Everything they think, you were responsible of all of this.

"Iwa-chan! Chief wants you to-..." Tooru spokes but was stopped by the sound of Iwaizumi's chair screech. He stood up, shadow loom under his gaze as he walks out the door.

"Wait! Iwa-chan I was supposed to...!

SLAM!

Inform you, " he finished, his lips turned downwards at the cold room, his chocolate eyes scanned every detail of the room then stopped to your portrait of your scary taunting face.

"Thanks a lot, Y/n-chan... But I didn't know you were into kind of... mess, " he smiles sadly, tracing his fingers at your photo. Lips tighten softly at the flashback, of yourself and the other 3rd years. How ironic to see your sweet, sweet smile in the memories compare to your now scary one.

"But I'm not letting you hurt Iwa-chan...That's a promise!,"

He points at your portait, eyes of determination and protection to swearing to blood to bone of himself not want his childhood friend be hurt. He turned away as long he lives

He will never let Hajime's life on the line.

Blood splatter, and small packet of white powder in the sachet all over the floor. Blowing your gun, hot steam coming out of the hole. Soft red lips upturned wickedly, your loyal subordinates gathers the small plastic packets inside the black bag.

"Bring it on the trunk immediately," You grinned as they nodded, immediately running towards your car.

Although, all happiness and rainbows has to ended when your car exploded and a familiar gunfire break a loose killing at off your men in sight.

"Oh dear... here we go again," You giggled then smirked, eyes delighted to see the man, who is obsessed of you being arrested.

How cute! 💕

"DARK PHOENIX!!!," Hajime yelled, eyes filled with fury and justice glaring at your calm figure. His teeth angrily clench pointing his gun at you.

"What a pleasant surprise!... I never thought you were such a party pooper, Iwaizumi-san! I'm absolutely...hurt," you pouted furrowing your brows playfully at him, to which he just flinch remembering a memory, looking down at the thought.

But you took this opportunity to snatched the gun off of his Iron grip by sitting on his shoulder then do some acrobatics before jumping off his broad shoulders then before jumping back then throw him on the ground with a headlock.

"You know it was all good~ back in the day! My mom always taught me to take care of what mess it was...And that was me she was talking about, "

He grunt, trying to wiggling his way out of your grasped but no avail the tightness is stronger than he expected.  You giggled when you heard him yelped.

“Let ME go this is instant! I’m gonna make sure you’re gonna rot in prison!,”

He shouted, throwing his saliva right at your face at each sentence he threat for you. But you only grinned, eyes in mischief and raising a brow at him.

“Oh please~ Cry me a river! Your the cop here aren’t you gonna do it but instead you’re just laying under me...shame on you Iwaizumi-san,” 

Silence  ... You saw how he looks down and saw sorrow at his face, seemingly remembers something, you hummed a growing smile on your soft lips.                 

“Ne, Iwazumi-san Do you remember the day Oikawa-san humiliate me?,”  

He snaps out his trace, then looks at you eyes as larger as the china wares.

“You didn’t help me back then, instead you let him do what he did to me,”

Rains started to pour, as the steaming car slowly deflates it’s flame little by little by an hours. Hajime’s heart dropped at the statement.

Yes, It’s true he did only watched.

 He just...didn’t know

He didn’t know what to do If he did help you back then.

Because of a certains rumors that you seduce your father, your uncle, other male students in any campus. That’s what Oikawa made up, He thought realising it.

You rejected Tooru because you view him as a brother only and nothing more.

“Isn’t because of Oikawa...was it?,”

“All of that wasn’t true SHUT UP!!,”

Unrealising you let him go and back yourself away from him, giving Hajime to sit up then slowly stood. He saw suprising seeing you hitting your head, slapping and punching your head. Snot and tears and all, pulling your hair out, heavily breathing then whimper and cries. Hajime was about to approach you giving the comfort you deserve, you  deserve long time ago that he was going to give if he helped you.

But being a fucked out mentally ill you are, Throwing your head back flash of lightning. Red eyes and nose all bloodshot. Wet Hair stuck on your face.

“FUCK THEM ALL FOR BEING NAIVE ASS BITCH THEY KNOW NOTHING ABOUT ME!!,”

“Y/n I-,”

All of the sudden a hooded man engulf you in an embrace then took  you, jumping in each delivering cubes. But before he left, he shot Iwaizumi by the calf making him grunt then kneel down to hold where the shot is.

“IWA-CHAN!,”

Oikawa runs afront of him, and by anger he tried firing his bullet back at the hooded man but failed when he fired back to disarm him then fled at the scene.

“That bitch had company I see... Iwa-chan are you alright,”

After the rage diminished into concern laced tone, he pulled Iwaizumi up throwing his arm over his shoulder. Gazing in greater concern at him.

Or Love, so to speak.

“Everything will be all right, Iwa-chan I already called back-up,”

Hajime grunt, he unlatch himself off Oikawa suprise at the action he give, he stumbled and winced but he then glared at Oikawa.

His heart ache’d at the facial expression, shattering to him into pieces.

“Get off me I can take care of myself, I’m not some type of baby being taken care of,” He explains, he took a second to look where you feld and the hooded man went, A breath escape his lips and just stumble ahead.

when the back-up came, they help him guide back inside the ambulance.

“I told you I can take care of myself! Lay off!!,”

“Japan needed you Iwaizumi-san...So you’ll be needing our guidance for now,” The medic discipline and explains The Cop as he guided Hajime at the back of the ambulance.

He click his tongue before the paramedics lift him up in ease onto the ambulance.

Oikawa on the other hand, chocolate-colored eyes darkens at the moment of Hajime's pained expression when he taken the bullet that strike his calf.

And the sorrowfulness of his face when he was about to hug you.

His staring directly at your self-hate state as if he was that main guy at a certain love story, but a fucked up one.

He wanted to comfort you so badly that he might forget you'll stab him by the back. He grit his teeth, his knuckles turning white at point of view of your being.

But first he had to make sure you will be torture to hell where you belong.

"Oikawa-senpai! Is everything is going to be alright?"

A turnip head guy pops out, eye'ing in concern at the ambulance where Iwaizumi resides in, left the scene. Tooru took a deep breath, as he face his youngest colleague with that well-covered smile.

"It's alright! There's no need to worry! Cause' He will have the greatest care in the hospital... For awhile I think"

"Oikawa-senpai... Your palms are bleeding"

Kunimi pointed out, staring boredly at the fresh wound that have his blood run down his fingers to his knuckles.

He hadn't realise in mad anger, he clawed his palm so bad at the thought of you gonna ruining Iwaizumi's life.

"Ahhh! My hand slipped in the strawberry jam! My bad hehe"

(；^ 3^）✌️even though it was rather darker than the sweet jam itself, Kunimi could tell it was a lie. He could tell the deep nail marks on his palm and blood mixing under his nails too.

"Uh... Okay I guess..." He pretend to buy it, much of Oikawa's satisfaction.

"Okay back to work! We need to investigate this piece of shit of a burning car!" He grin happily as he skipped towards the steaming car, not caring about the rain pouring down.

Hope you rot in hell Y/n dearest or else one touch on Iwa-chan and you are gone he thought with a deep frown thinking about you makes Oikawa sick upon his stomach but hopefully that one day, you'll be captured and rot in jail.

Or maybe suffer in death sentence because of the multiple crimes you make.

Hope you suffer He thought with sadistic grin.

-End P. T 1-

That was not I expected, but judge all you want all because of the grammar I've been working is still under- construction and I've been using writing stuff like this because of a certain mental stability I've got... Not all that set aside. Thank y'all for reading don't forget to leave a heart or not because due to my ungrateful grammar that make you sick... I'm sorry about that and I apologies for being born... Is all

-orangepurin45

[babbushka]

Clyde’s Girl

Hello friends! I had a bit of a rough day yesterday, and decided to live vicariously through our sweet boy in this Clyde Logan x reader insert fic. Please heed the warnings, there’s some angst and violence in it, and if you feel like this fic might bring about some negative memories or feelings, please feel free to skip this one! 

Word count: 4600

Warnings: ANGST (harassment (minor character against reader), violence (clyde and minor character), language (minor character against reader) ; smut (oral sex, fingering)

There is fluff in here I promise, but those are the two big warnings!

The bar was jam packed, being a Friday night and all. The whole of Duck Tape filled with regulars and newcomers alike, eagerly laughing and talking with one another like one happy family. The pool tables were being occupied by some real good players, and there was a card game goin’ on in one of the booths in the corner. The jukebox was playing Patsy Cline, and some couples were slow-dancing together oblivious to all the noise.

Clyde was in the middle of it all, keeping the drinks flowing and his customers happy. He was more than capable of it, and eager to do so – the rush of the drink orders kept his mind off of you.

You were sitting at the bar all by your lonesome, for the fourth time this week. You were no newcomer, you’d been visiting Duck Tape for years, and well, Clyde had been nursin’ a little bit of a crush on you for some time now. He tried his best to keep it under control, but damn you were so pretty, and so smart, and funny and so nice…

He shook his head, reminding himself that there were folk askin’ for refills that he needed to tend to.

“Clyde?” You asked shyly from your seat at the counter, almost like you could read Clyde’s mind and know he was thinkin’ of you.

“Yes darlin’?” He asked, turning his warm gaze towards yours while the tap filled up a few glasses.

“Could I get another when you have a chance?” You smiled, glad for the pet name. When Clyde first called you that, he had been so embarrassed, but you assured him that you liked it, and he had called you that ever since.

Clyde simply nodded, not a man of too many words, but the quick smile he gave you back was all you needed to stay in high spirits.

You came to Duck Tape for Clyde, of course.

You weren’t entirely sure if the handsome bartender knew that or not, but it was his company that you longed for at the end of a hard day. You didn’t drink very heavily, often asking for sodas or virgin cocktails to try and save some money but still get your semi-daily fixin’ of soulful conversation with Clyde.

The two of you had so much in common, from the things you liked and the things you both disliked. On slower nights, you would exchange stories of your day, all the ups and downs and in betweens that made life interesting, even if it was boring. Clyde was never boring in your eyes, and you lived for the moments when he opened up about something that was a little more private than he was used to talking about.

You thought everything about him was absolutely perfect, and it made you only a little sad that you knew he’d never feel the same way. How could he? After all, he was a successful business owner and one of the most well-liked guys in town. He probably didn’t have much time for anything outside of running the bar, so you did what you could and spent as much time in the bar as you could, hoping to make him laugh or smile with your stories.

Unfortunately, tonight really was no night for conversation as he was being pulled in ten different directions all at once. But when he reached for your glass and your fingers brushed up against his for an electric moment, you were reminded that even just a second of his attention was worth not getting to talk like y’all usually did.

You sipped your drink slowly, and watched him move around the bar like a pro, happy to simply enjoy the familial atmosphere of Duck Tape like you did almost every Friday night.

 Clyde was starting to grow tired around closing time. He gave the fifteen minute warning to the patrons of the bar, who nodded with understanding and began wrapping up their various affairs. The pool balls were corralled into the triangular rack, the sticks put back in the holster. Couples returned to their tables from the small dance floor, and cards were shuffled before being stuffed back into pockets.

Everyone cashed out their checks roughly at the same time, and began slowly trickling out of the bar, carrying their conversations into the parking lot and laughing with one another before saying goodnight and driving away.

Looking up, amidst the fray you had disappeared.

Clyde walked over to where you had sat at the counter, a pile of cash to pay the bill, and a note in your handwriting.

Keep the change. See you tomorrow!

You had drawn a small heart underneath your note, and Clyde’s own heart raced. The tip was generous, more generous than you probably could afford. He stuck the change in his pocket and made a mental reminder to slip it back into your purse the next time he saw you. It was his pleasure to serve you up anything you wanted – hell he would give you free drinks if it wouldn’t be so desperately obvious.

It was such a stark contrast once everyone was out of the bar, how quiet it was. Sometimes you would stay until when Clyde locked up, talking for a little while just the two of you, and Clyde wished this had been one of those times.

Sighing, he wiped down the counter, when some movement outside the window caught his eye. Instinctively looking up, he abandoned his countertop when his brain realized what he was staring at, and he was storming out the door.

Some guy’s harsh hand yanking on your arm was enough to send him into a rage that nearly blinded him.

“What the hell are you doin’?” He barked, and the guy who had been bothering you let go like he had been burned.

“Clyde – ” You rushed to his side, practically throwing yourself in his arms. He wanted to hold you close but he was shaking with anger and needed to let it out somehow.

“Honey go inside.” He said softly, tucking your hair behind your ears. You didn’t have a minute to process him calling you honey before he was nearly chasing after the guy who had taken his chance to get away.

He was some no-name newcomer from out of town, Clyde had never seen him and he had a good memory so he would know. The man was fumbling with his keys at his car, but Clyde smacked them out of his hand. You were frozen, standing on the patio just watching as Clyde turned into the most intimidating person you had ever seen.

“You don’t ever touch her if she don’t want you to.” Clyde fumed, using all of his six-foot-three-inches to tower over the dirtbag.

“It wasn’t like that – ” The man scoffed, moving to pick his keys up. Clyde moved forward and stepped on the keys, trapping them under his boot.

“How was it like then?” He asked, jaw setting into a deep frown.

The guy scoffed again, as if Clyde was being ridiculous, before turning to you and gesturing to your clothing. Clyde noticed that you hadn’t gone inside like he asked, and watched as you anxiously tucked your arms around yourself. You became hyper aware that the man was probably trying to ogle your body through the clothing you had picked out to look nice for Clyde, and you wanted to hide.

“She was being a tease – got me all riled up and then wouldn’t even give me her number. I just wanted to scare her is all.” He explained, as if somehow that would get him off the hook.

Clyde’s jaw clicked and he crushed the keys under his foot into the pavement of the parking lot as he got in the other man’s face.

“You best say somethin’ to ‘er right now.” Clyde said, giving him a final warning.

The man, clearly not understanding what was about to happen, rolled his eyes and turned to face you, voice dripping with malice when he yelled to make sure you could hear him go, “Eat shit, slut.”

Clyde snapped. Without even a second thought he slammed his fist into the side of the guy’s face, blood spraying hard as his nose crunched under the impact. He couldn’t even stumble through the punch before Clyde landed another one, and then another one.

You were stunned! Clyde had never shown so much outward passion like this before, watching him move as fast as he was moving was mesmerizing.

The man fell to the floor, eyes swollen and bruised badly, but Clyde didn’t let up. He kept picking the guy up, only to knee him hard in the stomach and let him drop again, kicking his side.

It occurred to you that maybe you should say something, maybe you should stop Clyde, but you really didn’t want to. There was something awfully gratifying about the sound Clyde’s fist made when it collided with this asshole’s jaw.

Of course the police had to be cruising past just when Clyde was starting to get carried away, pinning the man in a headlock.

“Shit.” You sucked in a breath, and rushed over to Clyde’s side.

“Honey – ” Clyde was about to tell you to go inside for real, that he didn’t want you to get dirtied up by this man’s blood, but you cut him off real quick.

“Cops!” You winced, the officer clearly taking notice of the events happening in the parking lot, and pulling into the lot with their lights on.

Clyde let the man drop, and you wound your arms around his left one, holding him tight.

“Let me do the talking.” You begged, searching his eyes for his agreement.

Clyde nodded, too keyed up to really say much, and you glued yourself into his side as an officer got out of his vehicle.

“What seems to be going on out here?” The officer asked, his hand on his hip, too close to his gun for your own comfort. He was staring down Clyde, clearly skeptical – his uniform and paint-job of his car made it clear he was from the next town over, so he wasn’t familiar with any of the Logans.

“This man saved my life.” You said immediately, holding on to Clyde and refusing to let him go.

“Is that so?” The officer asked, with a raised eyebrow.

You knew what it looked like, the scene in front of you, but you also knew exactly what to say to get this cop off your backs.

“Yes, I was being harassed by that man,” You said, voice only a little shakey as you gestured to the groaning body on the ground, “And Clyde came to my rescue.”

The cop looked from the man on the ground, to Clyde, and then back to the man on the ground again.

“You’re Clyde?” The officer asked, addressing his question to Clyde this time.

“Clyde Logan, that’s right.” He responded, voice deep, but gentle. As if he hadn’t just been absolutely destroying the guy in front of all of you.

The officer was silent for a long time, and you immediately started to panic. You were thinking up all sorts of things you could do to get Clyde out of going to jail – his life of crime was over, you weren’t about to be the reason he went and served more time.

The officer moved his hand from his hip finally, crossing his arms in front of his chest, before eyeing Clyde carefully.

“You got two first names.” The officer said.

“Yeah I suppose I do.” Clyde replied.

You wanted to explode, the tension in the air was too thick to handle.

“What sort of harassment?” The officer finally asked, and your heart leapt into your throat, taking the opportunity to give all the details.

“He kept brushing up against me while I was in Clyde’s bar, and when the bar closed, he followed me to the parking lot. He kept asking me for my phone number even though I told him I wasn’t interested.” You said quickly, tucking yourself closer to Clyde’s side, your grip on his arm tight. “That’s when he put his hand on me and started jostling me around.”

“Where?” The officer frowned, as did Clyde.

“Here.” You said, showing your arm.

There was a big bruise in the shape of the man’s hand on your forearm where he had yanked you, and Clyde had the very strong desire to beat the shit out of him all over again.

“Clyde must’ve seen me through the window because I was just about to scream for help when he showed up.” You said softly, and Clyde’s heart broke – he was sure that if you had screamed for help that sound would have haunted his every nightmare.

“Is that right?” The officer asked Clyde.

“Yes sir.” He nodded, not wanting to say anything that would get him in trouble.

“Without him I don’t know what would have happened.” You added truthfully, before throwing in, “I’m thankful for those sharp, military reflexes.”

“Military you say?” The officer perked up, and Clyde blushed, but nodded.

“Special forces.” Clyde said, all shy. You hated to put him on the spotlight like that, but you knew it would be the only way to get him off the hook.

“Well thank you for your service.” The officer nodded kindly, before jabbing a thumb in the direction of the loser on the ground who was still oozing blood onto the parking lot. “And thank you for stopping this young man for possibly harming this beautiful young lady. I’ll take him down to the station and let him spend a night in the drunk tank for all this trouble.”

“Thank you officer.” You smiled, glad that he wouldn’t be arresting the love of your life.

“Although, if you ever run into a problem like this again, maybe don’t beat him halfway to Sunday.” He joked, and you laughed.

“Of course officer, thank you.” Clyde said, a quick nod of his own.

“Oh, and if you’d like to press assault charges ma’am, here’s my card.” The officer handed you a small piece of cardstock with the phone and ID number. “Y’all have a good night now.”

The cop hauled the man up from the pavement, and once he was standing, pushed him in the direction of the cop car. You and Clyde remained frozen on the spot, until the car was out of the lot and all the way down the road.

You were both breathing hard, hands shaking from the reality of what just happened, and what could have happened.

“That was close—” Clyde said, but you cut him off, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him.

His lips were soft against your own, so warm and wide and plush. You kissed him like you would never be able to kiss him again. Clyde reacted right away, sighing happily into your mouth and pulling you close with his metal hand. His other one was covered in blood, knuckles split from repeatedly smashing into the side of that jerk’s, and he didn’t want to get it all over your pretty outfit.

“Thank you.” You whispered against his lips, letting him hold you nearly flush to him in his strong grip.

You two rubbed noses together as you caught your breath, and Clyde sighed.

“I couldn’t help myself.” He said softly, resting his forehead against yours. “I couldn’t stand you bein’ hurt.”

“You saved me.” You said, your mind reeling about all the ways that could have gone if Clyde hadn’t been there to stop that man.

Clyde seemed to have forgotten where you were for a moment, because he suddenly focused on the bruise on your arm and the chill in your skin from the cool night air.

“Can I…” He gulped, so afraid of rejection, even after all this, “Can I take ya home?”

“Can we go to yours?” You asked in response, pleading eyes turned towards his, “I want to stay with you.”

He seemed surprised by this, and frowned only a little bit. His eyes shimmered with hope, and you smiled at the little blush that crept onto his cheeks.

“You do?” He asked. He couldn’t believe it, “Ya ain’t scared of me?”

“You could never scare me honey.” You replied earnestly, placing a comforting hand on his cheek.

He turned into the kiss and smooched your hand, before leaning down to kiss you for a few more moments.

“Well alrigh’ then.” Clyde smiled shyly, blush spreading to turn his whole face bright red. “Come on, my car’s right here.”

He held the door open for you like the gentleman he was, and made sure you were seat-belted in for safety before closing it and rounding the truck so he could climb in himself.

You rolled the window down to let some of the night air in, and Clyde had a hard time paying attention to the road with the way your pretty hair blew around in the slight breeze as he took his time down the winding West Virginia roads.  

You kept one hand on his thigh as he drove, and it grounded him, kept his mind from wanderin’ to the way that man had called you such awful things, how he had hurt you – how he was probably going to have hurt you more.

It was quiet, but neither of you minded.

The drive was short, and soon you found yourself sitting in Clyde’s living room.

Clyde walked into the living room from just locking up the front door and putting his keys in the little bowl Mellie got him after Jimmy moved out. He was filthy – a whole night of work and a fight had him covered in all sorts of gross shit, and he wanted to be able to run his hand over your skin, clean.

“I just need to uh,” He held up the bloodied and cracked skin of his hand with a sheepish smile, “Wash this off.”

“Let me help.” You offered, not waiting for him to say he didn’t need it, and instead going straight to the bathroom. You had never been in his trailer before, but you could see from the couch the door that was slightly open, enough to see the hint of a sink and mirror.

Clyde followed you in, and you smiled at the way he tried to take up as little space as possible, hanging in the doorway so he wouldn’t crowd you in this tiny bathroom. You wondered if he even really fit in it.

“Can I?” You asked, placing a hand on his metal prosthetic.

You knew he wasn’t the most comfortable with people seeing his arm without it, but you hoped to convey to him that you didn’t want to shy away from something that was a part of him, that you weren’t disgusted by it – or by him.

“Yeah.” Clyde nodded, voice thick.

You made quick work of his flesh hand, washing it under warm water with soap, and then applying and antiseptic and an anti-bacterial ointment to the cuts, before wrapping waterproof bandages around the knuckles. They weren’t deep enough that he needed stitches thankfully.

Clyde was in awe of your patience, how you so thoroughly went through the steps of fixin’ him. Your hands were so small in his giant one, he wanted to splay your fingers out against his own and see just how much bigger his really was. He was about to ask, when he caught a bit of a glimmer in your eye.

“Shower?” You asked.

Clyde thought a shower sounded amazing, and was just about to say yes when you started to undress. You stopped halfway through to turn the faucet on, pulling the little tab to direct the water from the tub to the showerhead above, before resuming.

“Oh, uh, yeah – of course, here let me just – ” Clyde started to shuffle away, but he couldn’t really open the door without bumping into you, making you giggle.

“Where are you going?” You asked with an amused smile. Clyde froze – you wanted him to join you?

You were now fully naked, and had moved to step into the shower, and Clyde could have sworn he had been knocked out in that fight and was in some kinda dreamland; there was no way this was real. None at all, but then you were standing under the spray and laughing, smiling at him all expectant.

“Oh! I thought – ” Clyde stumbled over his words, before fumbling with his clothing, nervous excitement racing through him.

“Get in here big boy.” You beckoned him to you, and Clyde had never wanted to shower more in his life.

You made room for him as he stood beside you, careful to not accidentally touch you in a way you weren’t expectin’ or wantin’. It wasn’t easy, that was for sure – this shower was barely big enough for one person, let alone two. Still, he tried his best, and reached around you for the shampoo Mellia gave him from her salon.

“Don’t worry, I won’t try nothin’.” Clyde said, squeezing out a big glob of it into your hand.

You only grinned, and lathered up the shampoo in your hair, your arms raised to your head to scrub at your scalp, turning your hair into one big halo of bubbles. It was the sexiest thing Clyde had ever seen.

“What if I want you to?” You asked, tipping your head back and letting the suds wash down your body.

Clyde followed their trails carefully, licking his lips.

He waited for you to coat your hair in conditioner and wring it out a few minutes later before he couldn’t really hold back any longer.

“Are ya sure?” He wanted to be absolutely certain, especially after the events of the evening, but you just pressed yourself up against him, grasping his hand in yours and bringing it to your chest, encouraging him to squeeze at your breasts.

“Please?” You whispered, voice high and needy, and Clyde’s knees nearly buckled.

“Lemme take care of ya.” Clyde whispered back, and you nodded eagerly, desperate for him.

Clyde naked was even more impressive than you could have possibly imagined. Especially with the way the water from the shower ran in rivulets down the ridges in his muscular chest and toned stomach. He had always been big and wide but something about seeing all the definition on display was intoxicating.

He leaned down to kiss you once more, and you smiled into it, your arms coming to wrap around his shoulders once more. His scarred arm held you snugly in place, while his hand cradled the base of your skull as he licked into your mouth.

He groaned softly as you opened your lips further for him, kissing him back with equal passion that had him dizzy. You couldn’t stop little whines from escaping your throat that only got louder as Clyde pulled away.

The shower really was too small to accommodate any kind of lovemaking that he wanted to do with you, so he settled on maneuvering you so he could press your back against his front, and reach his hand down to slide against your cunt.

He latched his mouth onto your neck and peppered it with kisses as he pressed his thick fingers into you, drawing out the most precious moans and sounds from you. Both of your hands grabbed onto his arm to not only steady yourself, but to encourage him to finger you further. It was an awkward position, but he managed to make it work enough to roll and pinch at your clit, breathing heavy in your ear as he sucked on the edge of your jaw.

You came fast, and it caught you off-guard. Clyde smiled against your skin, and you panted, turning back around to face him.

You looked like you were going to say something, but then you quickly dropped to your knees and took Clyde’s raging hard cock in your hand, guiding it to your lips.

You licked the head for a little bit before sucking it into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks. Clyde had to brace himself against the tile of the shower, his hand moving to tangle in your wet hair.  You took him as deep as you could manage – he was huge, every part of him, right down to his dick. What you couldn’t fit in your mouth your hands covered, and your pleased hums mixing with the obscene sucking noises had Clyde shooting his load down your throat before he could even warn you.

You pulled back with a big sticky grin, and stood up, knees slightly protesting the position you had been in. Clyde wrapped you up in his arms once again, and shut the water off.

 Later, after you were both dressed in clean clothes – Clyde let you borrow one of his big shirts and a pair of his boxers to keep you covered, although both articles were so big on you that they kept slippin’ off your shoulder or your hips and making you all kinds of exposed – and curled up in bed, wet hair resting on towel covered pillows, Clyde took advantage of a quiet moment where he could say something he’s wanted to say for a long time.

“You’re my favorite person in the whole world, y’know that?” Clyde said, tracing a nervous pattern on your palm.

“Me?” You asked with a big smile, making him smile a little in return.

“Yup.” He nodded, all shy like always.

You blushed, and shuffled over a bit on the bed so the two of you were practically sharin’ the same pillow. He wound his arm around you, and you did the same to his, leaning in for a gentle kiss.

“You’re my favorite too.” You replied, throat bobbing as you nervously admitted, “I love you, you know.”

“Say that again?” Clyde tilted your chin to make your eyes meet his.

“I love you.” You replied easily, like you’d been saying the words for years and years. You know you had certainly wanted to.

“Again.” Clyde asked, his face red and his smile reaching his eyes and his dimples on full display for you to pepper a kiss onto each one.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.” You said, kissing all over his face, his hand, his shoulder, and his lips, again and again and again.

“I love you too.” Clyde said, before giving a rare huff of a laugh, “Been wantin’ to say that for a while now.”

“Me too.” You laughed along with him.

There was something so pure about the way you two were so at ease with one another, it calmed your frazzled nerves being by his side, and you knew that if you had nightmares after you fell asleep, Clyde would be there to calm you down.

“Mel and Jimmy are gonna have a field day when I tell them you’re my girl now.” Clyde said, making you grin.

“I like the sound of that… your girl.” You replied, your eyes slipping closed.

“Good, ‘cause I ain’t gonna call you anything else.” Clyde joked, reluctantly letting his close too. It had been a long day, and he was exhausted – he just wanted to keep lookin’ at you for as long as he could.

“Not even ‘darlin’’?” You hummed, resting your head on his chest.

He kissed the top of your head, and a chuckle rumbled through your cheek.

“Of course, darlin’.” He smiled, listening to your breathing even out as you fell into a comfortable sleep.

He could never in a million years pictured his day turning out like this, but one thing was for sure: he was going to love and cherish you forever, his girl.

Tagging some friends! If you’d like to be added or removed from the taglist, please just shoot me a message or comment on this fic! :)  @fullofbees @spinebarrel @oh-adam @dreamboatdriver @bad–bad–man @thecurlycaptain @bourbonboredom @driverficarchive @aweirdlookingtree @rosalynbair @redhairedfeistynerd @adamsnackdriver @glitzescape 

[emulateharry]

Flicker

This is my first Niall. Hope you like it. Love to my wonderful friends who always encourage me @niallandharrymakemestrong and @melissas173 .

“Damn it!”  The words exploded from his mouth as he banged his fist on the steering wheel.  The early evening sun, slipping slowly from the sky, was directly in his eyes as he sat in traffic.  He hadn’t moved more than 100 yards in almost an hour.  The woman in the car to his right was reading a book while the guy in the car behind him was jamming to some deep bass funk which was causing his head to pound.  He just wanted to get home, crack open a beer and turn on the Golf Channel but he was pretty sure that his girlfriend would have something to say about that.

CeeCee was always harping on him to watch some silly movie with her or play some stupid board game or even do a jigsaw puzzle…like they were 85 years old or something.  She just couldn’t understand that when he got home all he wanted to do was zone out for a little bit, to let the stress of the day dissipate before having a conversation or doing chores or trying to fake some romance.  They’d been arguing more and more lately.  The one last night had ended when he loudly suggested, well technically he shouted, that she should have dated Harry if she wanted candles and romcoms and bubble baths.  She had looked at him with filling eyes and replied quietly “Maybe I should have” before locking herself in the bedroom.  He had slept on the couch.

He had tried texting her today but had received curt responses, her last text was from two hours ago.

I‘m on my way home.  We need to talk.

He was sure she was going to be angry that he was so late but this traffic jam was unbelievable.  He was about to bang the steering wheel again when the car in front of him started to advance slowly.  As the line of cars inched forward he could see flashing lights up ahead.  Fifteen more minutes of crawling along and the cause of the delay came into view.  An old pick-up truck had tangled with what looked to have been a sedan.  There were ambulances, fire trucks and police cars along with a few plain official looking vehicles bracketing the wreckage and blocking the road.  First responders were everywhere and a uniformed officer was directing the cars to merge and move into the emergency lane.   He looked over to the accident and saw two men loading a covered stretcher into a van.  Oh.  That’s what took so long, there was a fatality.  Closer to the center of the chaos he saw an officer bend down and pick up the broken grille from the crushed black car and place it in a bag.  Feeling a bit guilty for his earlier impatience over what was clearly a tragedy for someone, he calmly maneuvered around the scene and onto the road just beyond.

He arrived home about 30 minutes later just as the sun was about to set.  The sky was a brilliant deep pink and the few clouds were a deep purple against it.  He admired it quietly before unlocking the door and going inside.  The alarm was off so he called out “Babe, I’m home.”   There was no answer.  “CeeCee?  I’m home!” he said in a louder voice.  Again no answer.  As he walked towards the bedroom the house was quiet, he strained to hear if the water was running in the shower.  No.  His room was empty, the pile of his dirty laundry on the floor just as he had left it that morning when he realized that he had overslept.  He turned around and headed to the kitchen for that beer, pulling out his phone to call her on the way.  The phone didn’t even ring, it just went straight to voicemail.  He texted her as he popped the top of the bottle of Stella and wandered into the lounge.  Plopping on the sofa, he grabbed the remote and turned on the TV.  There was an old interview with Jack Nicklaus on and he began to watch.

He had finished his beer and got up to go get another when it occurred to him that she hadn’t answered his text.  He punched in her number but voicemail picked up immediately once again.  He sent a text and sat back on the sofa, a hint of unease prickling the back of his neck.  

Something kept flitting through his mind trying to get his attention but he couldn’t quite grasp it.  Golf Central was just coming on and the sportscasters were giving updates on the CJ Cup and the Andalucia Valderrama Masters.  Niall was barely paying attention, his mind trying to connect with whatever it was that his subconscious wanted to show him.  An advert for a luxury car interrupted the golf news and suddenly it clicked.  The grille the officer picked up.  It was a Mercedes.  The wrecked car he had passed on his way home was a black Mercedes.  CeeCee drove a black Mercedes.

His heart pounding, he grabbed his phone and hit redial.

“Hi! I can’t come to the phone right now because I’m busy.  You heard me; I’m busy.  Leave a message.  Buh-bye!”

“Babe call me as soon as you get this message please!  Right away. Please.”

His voice sounded a bit desperate but he didn’t care.  He hit end and checked for a text.  Nothing.  Maybe she had come home and tired of waiting for him.  Maybe she had gone out to have dinner with a friend.  Or her Mom.  Or by herself.  He picked up the remote and opened up the security camera app.  Scanning quickly in reverse he realized that she hadn’t been home since the morning.  He paused the video when she appeared on the screen.  The time stamp was 06:15.  Pressing play he watched the output from the cameras.  He was able to follow her as she walked down the stairs and into the lounge.   She was dressed in her favorite suit with her blonde hair pulled into a neat ponytail.   She looked tired.  Niall hit pause and looked at her.  He was almost surprised at how beautiful she was.  How had he forgotten? What the hell was wrong with him?

He resumed the video and watched her as she stood looking at him sleeping on the sofa.  Her expression was sad as she leaned over him and kissed his temple and stroked his hair while he slept on unaware. She straightened again and then walked to the door, grabbing her purse and briefcase and keys before leaving and closing the door behind her.  

Niall picked up his phone to call her again.  No answer.  Oh my god.  What if…No.  No.  How could he find out for sure?  The authorities wouldn’t call him, he was just her boyfriend, not her next of kin.  Stop it!  Her parents.  They would notify her parents.  Heart pounding he called her mom.   She hadn’t heard from CeeCee either and made him promise that he would bring her over for dinner on the weekend.  

He spent the next hour calling all her friends, her office and her cell.  She was nowhere.  He couldn’t just sit there any longer or he would lose his mind.  She was just late.  Something had come up.  That was it.  He decided to make dinner.  He decided on chicken with roasted veggies, her favorite meal.  He used to cook for her all the time.  He loved the smile that would light up her face when she came in after a long day to find the table set with flowers and candles.  No matter what he prepared she claimed it was her favorite meal.  He hadn’t brought her flowers in…how long had it been?  A month? Longer? Why hadn’t he?

After putting the food in the oven to bake, and calling her again to leave yet another message, he set the table with her favorite dishes.   Rummaging in a drawer he found her candle stash and arranged several of them in the center of the table.  Taking the rest, he placed them around the kitchen and the lounge and the entry hall, lighting all of them.  Soft sweet scents wafted into the air and he closed his eyes as he remembered the argument they’d had a couple of weeks ago about her buying the expensive candles.   It had been a bad day in the studio and he had come home to dozens of candles burning.  When he found the receipt, he had picked a fight with her eager to vent some of his frustration.  He had ranted at her for spending hundreds of dollars on wax.  She had just gone around the room, blowing out the flames and went up to their room.  He had followed her, still griping about her frivolous purchase.  She had finally closed the bathroom door in his face and locked it.  He still remembered hearing her cry over the sound of the shower running.  What the fuck was wrong with him?  It wasn’t like they couldn’t afford them.

He sat in one of the dining room chairs and stared at the tapers flickering in the slight breeze that his breathing caused; his mind skipping around to memories of her.

He thought of when he first met her at that ‘Irish’ pub on St. Patrick’s Day and he thought she hadn’t recognized him.  She just kept giggling at his ‘phony Irish accent’ insisting that no one really talked with a brogue that thick.  He realized that she was teasing him after she snuck one too many One Direction song titles into the conversation and he finally caught on.  They had laughed together and sang gloriously off-key songs the rest of the night.  He’d asked for her number and she had let him kiss her as the Uber driver waited patiently.  Before getting into the car she had stroked his cheek and smiled that beautiful smile at him and his heart nearly leapt from his chest.  He had called her five minutes after the car pulled away just to hear her voice again.

He thought of the first time he made love to her. He was nervous and had been trying to be so smooth but he had tripped on his boot and nearly knocked them both to the floor.  She had just busted out laughing and grabbed his face and kissed him until he could scarcely breathe.  After that there had been no awkwardness and they had moved together as if they had rehearsed.  She was passionate and giving and he was overwhelmed at the intimacy he felt with her.  It was the most intense experience he’d ever had and he was confused about the emotions he was feeling.  They had practically just met and he was falling in love with her.

He thought of when he had met her mom and dad.  They had driven out to the country club for dinner and he had been intimidated until her dad began talking about his favorite subject: golf.  While CeeCee and her mom had quietly discussed Niall, he was having a great time listening to her dad regale him with stories of all the greats he had met and even a few he had played with.  They had driven back to his place after dinner and she beamed at him as he gushed about how much he had liked her parents.  After that he played a round or two with her dad as often as he could and then the men would meet the ladies for lunch.  Those times he got a glimpse into what a future with her might look like.

He remembered the first time he told her that he loved her.  The words demanded to be said but he was afraid.  He wasn’t sure he wanted a commitment so soon and yet they were on the tip of his tongue all that evening.  He had been trying so hard to keep it to himself that he had not paid attention to anything she said.  When she called him on it, he had blurted out “I love you” as his excuse. She had sat frozen for a moment before her eyes welled up a bit and she said “Heaven help me, I love you too.”  It wasn’t long after that he had asked her to move in with him.  Sometimes he wondered if they were rushing things but he didn’t want to wait.

He wasn’t sure when it had started to unravel.  He had become busy working on the album and his tour and getting the band together.  He began to travel and would forget to call her.  When he did finally remember she always seemed upset with him.  He started to notice that little things about her began to annoy him, things he hadn’t seen at first.  Like her insistence that she would do the dishes before bed instead of immediately after dinner.  Like she didn’t always put her shoes in the closet after she took them off.  Like she forgot to stop by the dry cleaners after work like she had promised.  Her excuse was that she had wanted to get home to see him but that didn’t make the clothes appear.  Slowly he began to feel as if something was missing.  They started arguing more, and he knew it was his fault.  He had begun to take her for granted.  He stopped seeing her and appreciating her and the relationship began to wilt from his inattention.  As he sat there in the dark watching the tiny flames bob, he hoped that what they’d had wasn’t gone.

He pulled out his phone to call her and as her recorded voice came over the speaker, he heard a key in the door.  He rushed to open it, surprising her, and she gasped.  He pulled her into the house, kicking the door closed behind her.  Taking her things from her he dropped them on the floor before pulling her into a tight embrace.  She was confused by his intensity but returned his hug.  Laying her head against his chest she heard him say “Please don’t leave” over and over like a mantra.  She reached up to kiss his cheek and found that it was wet.

“Niall, what’s wrong?” she asked, concern clouding her features.

“I love you baby.   I love you and I’m sorry for being such an arse lately.  I love you and I’m sorry for not telling you and showing you.  I love you.”

[sheepydraws]

I’ll Kick Your Ass! I’ll Kick My Fiancee’s Ass! I’ll Kick My Own Ass! (8/11)

Facebook Messenger, Group Chat

Ryoga: My phone’s out of commission for a few days, so don’t try to call or text.

Shampoo: Ha! I told you that case wasn’t indestructible

Ukyo: Did you drop it into a jet engine or something?

Ryoga: Worse. Akari found a tumblr with pictures of me dueling Ranma. For Akane.

Shampoo: Oh shit!!!

Ukyo: So she bashed your phone in?

Ryoga: Akari is a very gentle, creative, pissed off person. She wouldn’t do something like that.

Scrawled in every public restroom between Ryoga’s flat and Sheffield in permanent marker:

LOOKING TO GET DICKED DOWN.

MEN ONLY, THE BIGGER (PERVERTS) THE BETTER.

PLEASE CALL/TEXT/SEND NUDES TO: [Number Redacted]

NO NAMES, JUST TELL ME WHAT YOU’D DO TO ME

Ranma’s Diary

Of course I was going to drive up with Nabiki and Akane, but now dad expects me to stay  with them, too. Something about our heater not working. The problem is lack of cash flow, not a busted valve, but the Tendos have guest rooms and tons of food, so I wasn’t going to complain.

‘cept the Tendos also have world war three going on right now, and I’d almost rather go home and try my luck with the space heater than listen to another meltdown.

Akane dropped the P-Bomb on her dad on our way home. She’s been flat and distant ever since she heard, and then she just blurts it out. Interrupts Nabiki and “Car Talk” mid-sentence. Nabiki’s mouth shut so fast it clicked, and Soun turned the radio off, even though he didn’t believe Akane till he saw the video.

We spent the next hour skidding along the freeway while Soun talked, mostly to himself, asking questions like, ‘How are we going to afford this?’ and ‘She doesn’t even date, how could this have happened?’, that no one could answer.

I felt pretty fucking awkward, listening to this guy I don’t really know monologue at his only daughter who wasn’t there, but Akane got all bright and shiny. She went from looking like a zombie to having apple cheeks, and smiling at me. Holding my hand and telling me that this was a family thing that I shouldn’t worry about—even though I might marry her? So it would be my family thing too? And her hands are really soft but they have really distinct calluses so they aren’t just floppy mush, but I didn’t want to think about that so we played hangman in her totally-not-a-diary till we used words that would make urban dictionary queasy and we had to stop.

It was interesting watching the reverse with Kasumi. One second she’s stirring away at a risotto for lunch, flushed with the steam, the next minute she’s snow pale with two red spots on her cheeks cause she’s still stirring the risotto.

First Soun was mad because of the money, but Kasumi claims she has a lot of money from her videos. Then he was mad because she doesn’t want to move out. She says it’s more sensible, and the baby can stay in her room for the first few years, and after that hopefully Nabiki will have moved out. I think Nabiki would have been pissed off that Kasumi was making decisions for her, if she hadn’t looked like she was considering climbing out the kitchen window to get away.

Now Soun is mad because Kasumi won’t tell him who the father is. She won’t even say if she did it artificially or not. Kasumi isn’t budging on this. Every time Soun brings it up her lips go thin and she burns whatever she’s cooking. Not that there isn’t plenty of pound cake, fudge, fried rice, casseroles, and whatever else Kasumi thinks up. Part of it is because of the holidays, but most of it is because it keeps her busy. I’m not complaining, but it’d be nice to eat in peace.

Facebook Messenger

Ukyo: So has your girlfriend murdered you yet?

Ryoga: Akari wouldn’t do that. She’s left rotten eggs on my doorstep, tried to send me a computer virus, and apparently gave every degenerate in England my phone number, but I don’t think she’s working up to murder.

Ukyo: I tried to warn you, man. Love makes you go bananas.

Ryoga: Uh-huh…

Ukyo: What?

Ryoga: Uh, I saw you kiss Shampoo.

Ukyo: She kissed me. She felt guilty for hiding things from me. It was a one time thing.

Ryoga: Right.

Ukyo: Look, have I noticed that Shampoo is pretty? Yes. Is she really funny and not afraid to laugh till she shoots soda out of her nose? Yes. Do I feel comfortable around her and like how it feels when I wake up in the middle of the night and can hear her breathing? Of course, I’m human. Have I pictured her wearing stockings and a garter belt? Maybe, but I’ve pictured you doing the same thing, so I’m going to put that down as normal human urge as well. You’re great, and so is Shampoo, but I’m not in love with either of you.

Ukyo: Ryoga? You there?

Ryoga: Sorry, I think someone just hurled a burned sponge cake at my window. I have to deal with this.

Ryoga: It was full of jam and cream.

Ryoga: Like how you’re full of shit.

Ukyo: If I like Shampoo, explain why wasn’t I upset when I heard she had kissed you.

Nabiki Tendo’s Bank Statement.

December 18th Withdrawal.

From: Savings

To: Patreon, Kasumi Tendo [Donated as: ANONYMOUS]

Amount: 5,137.56

Comment: N/A

Kodachi’s Journal:

I DON’T WANT TO WRITE A CHRISTMAS POEM, JESUS H CHRIST.

EVEN IF TATEWAKI IS MY BROTHER HE CAN’T JUST BARGE INTO MY ROOM RANTING ABOUT PHOTOS AND FAMILIAL LOVE AND LOW RISE JEANS (seriously why is he so obsessed with those? No one has been into low rise jeans since Britney Spears had kids.) AND WHEN I TELL HIM TO FUCK OFF BACK TO HIS ROOM HE SAYS I SHOULD WRITE A NICE POEM ABOUT SNOW AND ANGELS AND GOOD FOOD, “Like Keats” HE SAYS.

WHO THE FUCK CARES ABOUT KEATS? I’VE GOT A SPRAINED ANKLE, AND LIKE, I AM SO SICK OF HAVING SPRAINED ANKLES AND WRISTS AND BROKEN TOES. I LOVE GYMNASTICS, BUT I’M KIND OF SICK OF IT? LIKE, I SHOULD BE TRAVELING TO A MATCH RIGHT NOW, INSTEAD OF KEEPING MY LEG ELEVATED, BUT I’M HONESTLY SO SICK OF THIS SHIT I DON’T EVEN CARE. I REALLY LIKE MY TEAMMATES, BUT THE ACTUAL GYMNASTICS BIT?

FUCK, I USED TO SNEAK INTO THE GYM OR PRACTICE MOVES IN MY ROOM WHEN I WAS INJURED. I LOVED THE TWINGES OF PAIN. IT WAS EXHILARATING. Now it’s just like…Pain hurts.

AND SO DOES MY BROTHER, TRYING TO TELL ME WHAT TO WRITE WHILE HE GOES TO HIS ROOM TO JERK OFF TO PHOTOS OF GIRLS WITH DOLLAR BILLS IN THE THONGS STICKING OUT OF THEIR JEANS OR WHATEVER THE FUCK HE DOES. I’LL WRITE A ODESSY OF SCORCHING HEAT AND DEMONS, FUCK YOU VERY MUCH.

Not Anal

Mousse doesn’t work for grandmother anymore. She fired him for trying to knife one of my friends. The new girl is pretty nice. Her name is Konatsu. She’s one of those people who catches on to things pretty quickly and probably is good at math or dancing or something, but is still a total idiot.

Example: I’m telling her about a soap opera she’s thinking about starting, and I say, “The sex scenes are really good, too. If that sweetens the pot for you.”

She stares at me blankly. “What?”

“They’re really passionate, you know? It doesn’t feel like they’re posing for the camera.”

“What does that mean?”

That was when I remembered that this girl is like sixteen doing part time, and maybe she honestly has no idea what I’m talking about. “A-a lot of the time it feels like they’re being directed, and it’s really obvious. Like you can kind of hear someone saying, ‘okay, now moan, and make sure to turn your head so you’re facing the camera’, you know?”

“What does ‘sweeten the pot’ mean. Is that a euphemism?”

See? Lights are on, but nobody’s home.

She’s still better than Mousse.

I’ve been thinking about him a lot, though. Now that he’s ignoring me I can think about him without getting a ‘speak of the devil’ feeling creeping up my back. I can even run through the good memories without worrying I’ll want to get back together with him.

Studying at his house, coming with him when he dog sat for his neighbor and then getting into their pool, challenging each other to speed eating contests with jello packs in the cafeteria. Mousse could be a lot of fun when we were bored and actively trying to come up with ways to get into trouble.

I like that I can think about the sex again, too. Mousse was never as pushy about sex as he was about us getting back together. He was kind of surprised the first time I said, in the same tone I said things like, ‘How many of these milk cartons do you think we could drink before someone yells at us?’, or, ‘no, that’s probably illegal’,

“Do you think we could get away with having sex?”

We planned it out like a jewel heist. He would have to come to my house since his bike was kept on his front porch and mine was always in our foyer. I’d make sure the kitchen window was unlocked so that grandma and mom wouldn’t wake up at the sound of the door opening. Then he’d have to creep up the stairs, skipping almost every other step to avoid creaking.

Honestly, I think I spent more time being excited about the smuggling a boy into my room thing than the actual losing my virginity bit. But that part was pretty nice.

If Mousse had wanted to move away from here, or just been okay when I said I wanted to, we might still be together. Or would it have been even messier because I would have fallen for Ukyo and Ryoga anyway? I keep thinking of dating Mousse as ‘simpler times’ but who am I kidding?

Forwarded To: Ranma Saotome From: Nancy Sulivan Junior

Private Materials

Certification of Report of Birth (of a United States Citizen)

Ayame Saotome

[Information Ranma already knew]

Father: Genma Saotome                            Mother: Nodoka Saotome (Née Kumon)

Nodoka Saotome’s Facebook Profile:

In her icon Nodoka is a handsome woman in her early forties with doe eyes that make her look younger than she is. They are Ranma’s eyes. His hair too, he thinks. Not that he can tell when his father has been bald for as long as he can remember.

Her banner photo is Japanese calligraphy, saying something about honor and passion. Her description says she works at a dojo, and her public albums show her working with children in oversized gi’s and heavy belts.

She looks happy.

Of course she does, it’s fucking facebook. No one posts sad shit on facebook. No one writes about leaving their husband and losing their child. They don’t write about how much they miss that kid every single day and pray that somehow they’ll find them again over those obnoxious tri-fade backgrounds.

Ranma would never admit that he was hoping for it.

From: KasumiTendo96@yahoo.com

To: IluvuLuaura@hotmail.com

Laura, things are such a mess. I’m glad you suggested I write it out. I couldn’t explain it over the phone, when all I wanted was to hear you joke about how your day went. (Sidenote: You should put that egg story in one of your videos. It was hilarious).

I wish I had been able to warn my family about this. Springing it on them three months in hasn’t been easy for them. I thought if I waited until I knew I was pregnant they would all be too excited to worry too much or try to talk me out of it. I thought pregnancy had this magical effect on people, where they suddenly became too happy to worry, but my family has far too much to be worried about.

Nabiki sent me her entire savings account. Every cent. She tried to do it anonymously through patreon, but I knew it was her. She was bragging about how much she had saved up last month, and I don’t believe some generous person just happened to drop that exact amount into my paypal. I sent it back to her, and I tried to explain that I have plenty, but she said, “Kasumi, there is a reason I have been on birth control since I was fourteen—Kids are the worst investment on the planet. They eat money, and you can’t expect any returns.”

I reminded her that she got on birth control because she spent months telling dad about how painful and irregular her cycle was until he just wanted her to shut up about her uterus. She said that was also part of it. I know she sounds heartless (she does try so hard to give off that impression) but she was trying to be kind, and realistic.

Akane is mostly confused. She keeps asking all these question about how it feels, and what I’m allowed to do or not. I’m not sure if she’s excited or concerned, or just curious. She was the one who told dad about it, and I’ll be honest, it was a bit of a relief to have it out. If only dad hadn’t absolutely lost it. He’s angry, and I’m angry at him for being angry, but I understand why he’s so upset.

“You know, adoption is still an option.”

“So, when did you actually know? Is it kicking?”

“I don’t understand Kasumi. How did this happen? You’re a smart girl.”

No one wants to talk about the baby, though.

Wait, no. I was making macaroons yesterday, and Ranma came in from his morning run and said, “I always liked flower names for girls.”

I had no idea what he was taking about for a minute, but it did get me to look up from my macaroon piping. “What?”

“Like Violet and Rose and Daisy. I always thought they were cute. For guys you’ve got to have something solid. Something you can build a house on, you know? Like Jordan.” He nodded once, as though it was decided, and popped a cookie into his mouth before his father burst into the kitchen. He and Ranma started talking about run times while I clutched my piping bag and tried not to cry. They say pregnancy is emotional, but I think they’re only referring to the one whose pregnant.

Anyway, thank you for listening, Laura. Hugs and kisses<3

From: iluvulaura@hotmail.com

To: KasumiTendo96@gmail.com

Hey, hun, I finally had time to sit down and read your e-mail, and I’m sorry I can’t get down the coast again to be with you. I know I wouldn’t be much help, but you sound like what you need right now is a good hard squeeze and a friendly face.

Tho, I’ve got to say, maybe it would help if you told them how you did it? Maybe they wouldn’t be as neurotic if they weren’t imaging some clueless dude out there paying for his coffee at starbucks, with no idea he’s going to be a father.

You took charge of your live, hun, and that’s nothing to be ashamed of.

Otherwise, I think what they need is time. Right now they’re probably all thinking that this is still reversible, you know? They’re in shock.

Hey, what if you took the train up to me? See NYC under the christmas lights? I’m kind of busy, but the city is full of stuff to do. You could relax a little, eat some takeout, maybe do your christmas shopping? We could do another collab! Maybe a QandA to post between Christmas and New Years?

Maybe the best thing for you all is a little space.

Ranma’s Diary:

I got up at two in the morning and went to piss. It wouldn’t be worth writing down if I hadn’t seen the kitchen light on and found Kasumi in there. She was pouring herself a glass of milk.

“Are you doing that pregnant lady thing where you drink three glasses of milk every day?” I asked.

She laughed in this super high pitched, chirpy way that creeped me the fuck out. “No, I just woke up craving it.” She rubbed her stomach. Or, her uterus, I guess. “I’m already having trouble getting comfortable lying down.”

“That sucks.” I said. “Do you think it would feel better if you got into your pajamas?”

Kasumi did that ��five nights at snow white’s’ laugh again. “I totally forgot. It gets so cold in my room sometimes I don’t want to take my clothes off long enough to get changed.”

“Okay.” I said, because I didn’t really care, but at the same time I was getting really freaked out. I looked past Kasumi for a second, at the dining room, and I saw a rolling suitcase lying under the dining room table.

I could have asked, I should have, but Kasumi’s an adult, right? Also, she might have done that laugh thing again, and every time she did I felt like a demon was creeping up on me.

So I said good night and went back to bed

Now all anyone can talk about is the fact that Kasumi has disappeared, and I want to say something, but then I might have to talk about what happened next.

I went back upstairs

Forget it. I’m sure Kasumi’s safe, and everyone is all freaking out over nothing. So she wants to be alone for a while. Can you blame her?

Akane’s Diary

I feel like this is my fault somehow. I heard something weird the night she left, I know I did, but I ignored it.

And why did I ignore it?

I woke up in the middle of the night to Ranma on the stairs right outside my door. He was just standing there, one foot on the stairs, the other on the landing.

“Ranma?” I whispered.

He jumped. “Akane?”

“What are you doing?”

He came to stand in my doorway, a black silhouette against the yellow of the hall light. “I couldn’t remember where my gi was. I left it on the couch.”

I squinted at him, trying to see his expression. “Were you up?”

“No, I woke up.” He waved his hand and added, “It’s not important.”

His voice was kind of thick and raspy from sleep. It was nice. It reminded me of…

I’m such a fucking idiot.

Of course it was Ranma on Halloween. Guess what everyone, I’ve figured out the meaning of life! It is TO MAKE FUN OF ME.

I should have told him to go to bed and then tried to go back to sleep and forget about it. Sure, he was about the right height, and his voice sounded similar, and when I couldn’t see his face it seemed really obvious, but that didn’t mean he was Batman. Anyone can be short and do a decent batman impression.

“Could you come here?” I asked.

He hesitated, but then he came and sat on the edge of my bed.

“Closer.”

He slid down the side of the bed till our faces were just a couple of inches apart. From that close I could see him properly, so I closed my eyes and tried to pretend the air was crisp, and my armor was digging into my shoulders, and everything smelled like alcohol and cheap plastic.

“What is it?” Ranma whispered.

“What were you for Halloween this year?”

Utter silence.

I guess it was better than a lie.

“Wow.” I said, really stretching out the word, “Wuh-ow.” I started laughing at the way my own voice sounded. “Of course. I can’t fucking believe it.”

“Look, Akane, I didn’t even know it was you until-“ I knew what he was going to say. It all clicked inside my head. That was why he ran. Because why deal with things in a civilized way when you could just let fight or flight take over. “If you know what’s good for you, you won’t finish that sentence.”

“I swear I wasn’t trying to-“

I heaved my pillow at him. “Get out!” I whisper yelled, because I didn’t want anyone finding him in my room. I went to shove him off my bed, but he dodged and stood up himself.

Something about not being able to make contact, not being able to feel a satisfying weight against my palms, made me even madder. I chased him out of my room saying, “You asshole, you fucking asshole!”

He tried to reason with me again at my door.

“This is why I didn’t say anything about it! I knew you would react like this.” His expression softened a little. “Maybe it’s a good thing? We had fun, right? If we get married-“

“We aren’t getting married.” I said, and to my horror my voice broke at the end of the sentence and I started crying. I’ve never cried like that before, sudden streaming tears. “I don’t care what our dads say, I make my own decisions. I am never going to marry you, Ranma.”

And then Ranma said the exact thing I didn’t want him to say.

“But if you’re trying to do the opposite of what they want, are you really making your own decision?”

I closed the door on him. I waited until I heard his footsteps on the stairs again, and then I slid to my knees, forehead pressed to the wood, and kept crying. I haven’t been this confused since I was eight years old and I started doing things wrong. When I started feeling strange in my own skin. It wasn’t me though, it wasn’t my fault. It was everyone else who was suddenly obsessed with boys and girls and their difference, and which side I was on.

At least then on some level the answer was easy. I mean, I know who I am. It was everyone else I had to convince.

All this stuff with Ranma makes me feel like no matter which way I go I’m always rubbed the wrong way. Like something slices into me, but it’s corkscrew shaped so no matter which way I turn it cuts me so half of my skin peels away. I want to be my own person, I want to decide who I marry, but now I feel like I want Ranma to be an option as well.

I was thinking about shit like this and trying to find a good metaphor when I heard something that I swear was the kitchen window opening and closing. I swear, there was the little squeal it has, and a thud as it shut again. I’m sure that was what it was.

But I was too busy thinking about myself and my unmasked man.

I’m such an idiot.

From: TexmexTesco@gmail.com

To: prettyporkchop@gmail.com

Akari, since you’ve blocked me on everything and refuse to talk to me in real life, I thought I might at least try to explain myself here.

I never cheated on you. I did duel a guy for a date with a girl, but it wasn’t just because I wanted to date the girl. It’s complicated, but the guy is a jerk and the girl thought the best way to get him to leave her alone would be if someone bested him in combat.

I didn’t even win.

I understand if you don’t want to be together anymore, but I want you to know that I never went out with Akane, or kissed her, or anything like that. I want you to know that I still have my honor.

All my love,

Ryoga.

P.S: At least stop indirectly attacking me? I have now seen enough dick pics and rotten eggs to last a life time.

Latest post from fuckboisgetmoney.tumblr.com

Big sis done got knocked up and run away, little sis’s engagement dangles by a thread, and the middle child is involved in a blackmail mexican stand off.

We’re a god damn soap opera.

#at least i like soap operas #no one’s getting laid tho

Kasumi Tendo’s instagram(@riceandsalt): A photo of one of the infamous Black Tap milkshakes, a cake batter milkshake with a frosting and sprinkle covered rim, garnished with a hefty slice of funfetti cake, whipped cream, and a cherry.

A photo of Laura wearing a blanket cape, posed dramatically in front of a window overlooking a snowy city.

A photo of Kasumi’s nails, freshly painted pink and white, with cutsey teddy bears on the thumb. The work is professional, and quite good at that.

A photo of Kasumi, standing sideways in front of a mirror, her sweater tucked into her bra so you can see the beginning of a baby bump. The skin on her stomach is pink in a line across the top where her lap top was just resting. Description: After #iluvuLaura and I posted the AMA I got a lot of questions asking for #babybump photos, so here’s a quick one❤️.

ILuvULaura’s Latest Video: Christmas QandA with Kasumi Tendo! [Published December 23rd]

The girls are sitting on the chairs in Luara’s kitchen, snow falling in the windows behind them. You can see the photos hanging from Laura’s fridge, her family back in Newport, her last dog, her graduation photo. On the bar just behind the two of them are mugs with tea for Laura and hot chocolate for Kasumi. They look relaxed, Kasumi leaning back in her chair, one hand resting on her stomach.

Laura: So, I know this says it’s a Christmas Q and A, but since Kasumi’s involved there were a lot of pregnancy questions.

Kasumi: And isn’t that was Christmas is all about? [laughter]

Laura: I’m just saying. Actually I want to get a couple of the most common pregnancy questions out of the way first.

Kasumi: Right, right. I think the three biggest ones were, ‘when are you due?’, ‘what will the name be?’ and… [She glances at Laura, a little uncomfortable with the next part]

Laura: Yeah, there were a TON of people asking about the father.

Kasumi. Yeah. Anyway, I’m due sometime in May, although I don’t put much stock in that. All three of us, my sisters and I, we were born wildly off the mark for the due date.

Laura: Really?

Kasumi: I was born almost a month early—well, earlier than the due date, I wasn’t actually premature. Nabiki was two weeks late, and the doctor who did Akane’s first ultrasound got everything fucked up and she was really small, so she was born two months before anyone expected her.

Laura: [Laughs] That’s so weird. I was right on time. Like, the exact day.

Kasumi: Your mom probably went to a better doctor than mine.

[They laugh and swap childhood anecdotes. It’s an all around good time for everyone but the Tendo family watching at home.]

Ranma’s Diary

I like being legal, but around Christmas I always miss being a kid. Being excited and selfish and doing all the cheesy traditions with a huge grin, and dreaming about the toys I would get—Christmas is the best when you’re a kid. I always got cool stuff, too. I could always count on my dad.

This year I couldn’t think of any shit I wanted. I asked dad for one of those fancy pedometers that tracks your heart rate and stuff, and some sweaters. The only thing I was excited about was whatever Kasumi was going to make for dinner, but she’s in New York.

Oh, yeah, turns out she was staying with a friend. Soun lost his shit. He straight up had her reported missing when she’d been gone twenty-four hours, and now that he knows where she is he’s on a train up there to drag her back.

It’s going to be nuts, but right now we’re waiting around and eating all the food Kasumi left. Dad’s at the gym. I think he’s pissed about something, but who cares. It gave me like five hours to stare at mom’s facebook page.

I don’t know what I’m going to do, man. I gotta fix things with Akane, and my mom, and Kasumi, and maybe all the Tendos, but I don’t even know where to start.

Okay, wait, I know what I want for Christmas. I want Soun and Kasumi to get back at like three am tonight and scream at each other in the living room, but then cry and make up. That’s what Ukyo and I did and

Last five posts from okinomiyakimeansiloveyou.tumblr.com:

5. Mean Girls gif set

4. I’m telling you, this whole ‘no romantic relationships thing is pretty sweet. Like, you know what dating leads to? ENGAGEMENT. Fuck. I know a guy who’s engaged, but not exactly. It’s a whole thing. Anyway, he calls me up on Christmas eve eve and says, “How do you apologize for kissing someone?” cause he masked man-ed HIS OWN FIANCE.

So, after I finished laughing, I said, “Dude, you’ve got two options. You can try to tell her she’s just THAT charismatic and you couldn’t help yourself,”

“She’ll fucking kill me,”

“Or you can just apologize. There’s nothing else for it. She wanted to kiss you right?”

“I guess. When she thought I wasn’t me.”

“Well, it’s fucked up, but honestly it’s so fucked up all you can say is sorry. You can’t talk your way out of this. Just apologize and let her go from there.”

LIKE I HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT.

I mean, between this and my boy Ryoga having to deal with a semester of pent up anger from his ex, and my girl Shampoo crushing on him (or maybe just giving us all the runaround) I don’t care what people say. Not being in a relationship rocks. You don’t have to deal with any of this shit, and people still come to you for advice.

What? Yeah I’ve had three eggnogs. I’m drunk and sugar high and single and it is a good day to be alive.

3. A gif of Purity Ring lyrics overlayed on a background of patterns shifting color hypnotically.

2. Fucing rum man. Fucking A shit

1. But, like, what, if RyeRye and Shammy do gety together? Are they gonna fuck me out? I like those fuckers so much I don’t wanna be just some friend that intorduced them. Also, it’s totally not even right now. I have to kiss Rye Rye. Then it’s even,,,,right? Yeah. I wanna see how he compares. Like sHAMMY’S GOT THAT GOOD SHTI WHERE SHE LEANS IN AND HER BREASTS GET PRESSED UP AGAINST YOURS AND SHE SMEELLS LIKE A MEDAOW BUT RYRRYE’S GOT THAT SQUARE JAW whoops that was capslock, and he smells like fresh deoderant and liene annd I mean I just gotta check for sciense. Yes. Science. Goooood.

Facebook Messenger

Shampoo: MARRY CHRISTMAS! ���

Shampoo: Btw, did you get a weird drunk dial from Ukyo at like two am this morning?

Ryoga: It was seven over here.

Shampoo: So you were on the other line! I thought I could hear you, but Ukyo kept talking over you.

Ryoga: Did you understand anything they were saying?

Shampoo: Not really. Something about love. I think it was the love doesn’t exist spiel.

Ryoga: I thought that might be it. It sounded sort of like she was telling us not to get together????

Shampoo: That’s so weird. Why would he think of that?

Ryoga: I don’t know.

Ryoga: We did kiss.

Shampoo: But you had a girlfriend then. And then I kissed Ukyo, so it’s all even.

Ryoga: Actually, I haven’t kissed Ukyo.

Shampoo: Do you want to?

Ryoga: Maybe then she would feel better? We’d all be on a level playing field.

Shampoo: I feel like this is sliding into threeway territory.

Ryoga: yeah

From: iluvulaura@hotmail.com

To: KasumiTendo96@gmail

Kasumi, are you alright? You seemed okay when you left but I just wanted to make sure you were ok. Your dad was really pissed.

Merry Chirstmas, by the way. I hope you’re happy and with loved ones.

From: Kasumitendo96@gmail

To: iluvulaura@hotmail

Oh lord. Laura, are you sitting down?

First of all, I’m fine. Yes, dad was pissed, but he had the right. If my kid did something like this I’d be worried sick too.

We cried a lot on the train ride home. People were looking at us weird and avoiding us as they walked down the aisle. We were both crying so hard, and the train was barely heated so our noses were just pouring snot. Basically everyone is scared and worried and we’re all really confused right now.

Honestly? I thought this was going to be easier. At least the pregnancy bit! But I think it would be like this even if I was married and everything was a little more conventional. There would still be crazy questions and fears, and late night crying jags. Only things might have gotten off on a slightly better foot.

But it’s good to be home. I think everyone has at least accepted what is happening. I’m making a belated Christmas dinner with all the favorites, which won’t be ready till tomorrow, but just the thought has perked everyone up. Akane is trying to help, and is telling me about all the crazy pregnancy stuff she’s learned on the internet. I’m telling her what’s totally fake and what is mostly fake.

Nabiki is talking about preschools, and how the really good ones require you to get on a waiting list NOW, and it turns out that while everyone else was panicking over where I was, she was buying a crib and setting it up in my room.

Dad’s been telling stories about when we were all babies. Some of them are funny, and some are mildly terrifying, especially the ones involving the dojo. Dad noticed that I looked really worried and he said, “You really can drop a kid on their head a few times, and they’ll still turn out just fine. Don’t worry if you fuck up a little.” which didn’t exactly make me feel better,

but I didn’t feel worse either, so…

Oh, and Ranma.

Hoo-boy. This is the part I thought you might want to sit down for.

When I got home Ranma was waiting for me in my room. He was sitting on my bed with his laptop, but he was cross legged with his eyes closed like he’d been meditating or something.  He scared me out of my skin.

“Kasumi,” He said, like he hadn’t just ambushed me in my own room. “I have to ask you something.”

I closed my bedroom door and put my bag down. “What is it?”

“What would you think if your kid was trans? And your sister wasn’t.” He added.

I sat down on my bed. “I don’t know if I can really answer that. I remember how I felt when Akane came out.” It was sometime before her senior year. It was ridiculously hot in the kitchen. I was making lemon bars for something I don’t even remember-lemon bars, the easiest things in the world!-and I was sweating bullets, and Akane walked up behind me and started lecturing me on the history of the trans movement in America and the fluidity of gender. I half thought she had a school project on it until she got to the point. “I was surprised mostly. It was in the news a bit more then, but you know how it is. You think of it as something that happens to other people’s brothers.”

Ranma nodded, but he had this flat look on his face that said I hadn’t really answered his question. “Right, but would you have felt different if it had been your kid?”

I tried to think about it, I really did, but I just can’t say. “I might be a little more worried about them. I mean, Akane was almost eighteen. I knew it was her decision to make. I think if my child said that their gender was different than expected I might be more concerned about how that would effect them, but I want them to be happy. If that’s a part of their happiness I would have to support them.”

Ranma seemed a little more satisfied after that, but then he said, “Now pretend you’re like twenty years older and come from a more traditional family. What would you think of it then?”

At that point I threw my hands up and told him I couldn’t answer for anyone else. That was when he’d told me he’d tracked down his mother (I mean, it wasn’t hard. She lives a few hours from Ranma’s school in the opposite direction from our town and she has a facebook account) and he wanted to talk to her. Only he can’t because she thinks she has and daughter out there somewhere and, well…

Oh, Laura I can’t talk about it too much, but he got all choked up and then wouldn’t cry, which was worse. Listening to him trying to explain it all when his throat was closed off and he was shaking…I held him for a while but I don’t know what to do. If my kid is trans or gay or queer it won’t matter as much because there’s Akane. But for Ranma…He doesn’t really know his mother’s family, so he has no idea how they would react.

Although…Ah, I don’t want to write this, it’s so indulgent, but it made my heart so warm.

I had to stop hugging Ranma because it was a little awkward, us both sitting and his legs pulled up like they were, and then he said, “You’re going to make a good mother.”

I said, “All I did was listen and give you a hug. I don’t think that’s all there is to mothering.”

“That’s all I want my mother to do when I see her.”

I worry about Ranma, but then again I don’t. I think even if his mother jilts him, he’s strong enough to handle it. And he knows he has somewhere to go if he isn’t.

Kodachi’s Journal

Freezing temperatures

Snow long since tracked away

The buzzing of new years clackers fades.

Boredom hangs low and grey as the sun

You can’t look at your brother without fighting.

Oh Ranma.

Either you have taken me for a ride

Or you owe me one.

From: TKuno

To: NabikiTendo

Seeing as we seem to have reached MAD, may I inquire as to the health of your pregnant friend?

From: NabikiTendo

To: TKuno

You are lucky I’m bored, and shocked, and get to rub your face in the fact that the courtesan and the accountant were banging.

Yeah, she’s all better after a relaxing trip to New York.

From: TKuno

To: NabikiTendo

New York? Wouldn’t being in a city that big be somewhat dangerous to someone in her condition?

Also, it’s a soap opera. I’m sure there will be another reversal of fortune eventually.

From: TKuno

To:NabikiTendo

She’s pregnant, not a blown glass ornament. Women have been having babies since forever. We’re pretty good at it.

Also, you are such a reacher. Did you see the sex scene between C and A? Now that was chemistry.

From: TKuno

To: NabikiTendo

Women have also being dying from complications since forever. I only wish you understand that I am sincere in my desire to for your friend to be healthy. I think that baring children is one of the noblest acts of mankind.

Also, I will not debate the merits of various sex scenes with you.

From: NabikiTendo

To: TKuno

You got anything better to do?

Facebook Messenger

Shampoo: We should stop talking about this.

Ryoga: If you want to.

Shampoo: I don’t know. It feels inappropriate.

Ryoga: It’s not like we work together or anything.

Shampoo: I know.

Shampoo: But why does Ukyo have to be involved?

Ryoga: They don’t. This doesn’t have to be anything. We’re just talking.

Shampoo: Talking leads to doing and doing leads to pregnancy.

Ryoga: I think I know how to put a condom on.

Shampoo: You’ve had sex before?

Ryoga: No. Not sex-sex. But the condom bit is easy.

Shampoo: You and Akari never fucked??? And she’s still this mad?

Ryoga: She’s a bit less mad now. We’re not talking, but she’s stopped actively trying to fuck me up.

Ryoga: Also, does having sex make a difference?

Shampoo: I think so. Stuff changes. After Mousse and I did it we got closer. And we thought we were really slick too, never talking about it in public, just doing long lingering glances. And touching more. We were more comfortable with that.

Ryoga: Why would that make it worse when you broke up?

Shampoo: We did The Thing. I think we both sort of felt like that really meant something. Like maybe we’d last.

Ryoga: But that’s what high schoolers think. We’re in college now.

Shampoo: So why didn’t you and Akari do it?

Ryoga: We were always going to do it. We were always planning on it. We were always going to get there…

Shampoo: Buuuuuut?

Ryoga: It felt like something we couldn’t take back.

Shampoo: Yeah, like after that you have to be together forever.

Shampoo: This is why we should stop talking about this. And never mention it in front of Ukyo. Ukyo doesn’t believe in forever, and I don’t want to feel like we’re using her.

Ryoga: But I don’t want to use her. I want…

Shampoo: yeah

Akane’s Diary

POSSIBLE WAYS I COULD GET OUT OF SPENDING TWO HOURS IN A CAR WITH RANMA:

1. Fake illness too severe for me to make the drive. (That would be pretty hard to fake without getting sent to the doctor. It would mean dad would have to make the drive twice, which he would be kind of hard on him. If anyone found out I was faking I might have to explain. Kasumi would take care of me and I wouldn’t be able to enjoy it.

2. Injure Ranma so that he is at the hospital when we leave. (If I suddenly broke Ranma’s leg I would probably wind up in therapy. Also, the bag of dicks probably deserves an education. Or something)

3. Call a cab and leave early in the morning. (Do you know how much a two-hour cab ride would cost?! Dad would murder me, but not before making me explain why I did it)

4. Steal our car early in the morning. (See above.)

Maybe I’ll just stay up really late the night before and sleep in the car. Being unconscious is kind of like not being there, right?