#my mom thinking i was worth less than drugs when i was only 10

[coochiekrab]

something that fascinates me about kuri and aubrey is the fact that aubrey quit various substances for her but not because she asked- and honestly that makes him a more powerful character to me as well as more realistic of a depiction of an addict. to quit something you have to be the one making the choice and kuri isnt the one asking(as far as i know- im basing this off of her saying "why not just a little cocaine?" in that one comic LMFAO), instead its aubrey realizing he wants to start caring about his life more because of his love for this weird girl thats been in his house. His family tried to get him to quit and he couldnt but then this weird damn thing shows up and hes like fuck ok i gotta clean myself up i guess. I just appreciate the autonomy he has over his addiction and how its his own choice. i didnt actually mean for this ask to be sent on child star day, but since thats the case i will say Child Star is a massively inspiring project and incredible. have a good day :)

i think without kuri he would still be able to get clean and sober at the same pace but his issue would be not having a better reason to Stay sober and would likely go through cycles of relapsing for the rest of his life. by the time theyre living together and getting closer hes clean from drugs but still drinking really hard, but accidentally leaving kuri home alone for days at a time (who cant feed herself) and forgetting to check in on her would be the only thing Bad enough to make him feel guilty about his drinking habits. now if only we can get him to give up his Final Vice of Smoking

[word-wytch]

Don't Stand So Close To Me — Chapter 4

Eddie x Teacher!Reader

Chapter 4/? 3.1k. Series Masterlist

✏︎ There are some things Eddie isn’t used to hearing, and mean even more when coming from you.

✏︎ Series Summary: Forced to move back home to Hawkins after your fiancé cheats on you, you begin to fall in love again with an audacious 20 year old metalhead, only there’s one problem — he’s still in high school and you’re his English teacher.

While you struggle starting over in a place you never thought you would return, Eddie struggles feeling stuck in a place he can’t manage to leave — until you offer to help him. Of all the lessons learned, the most important are the ones you teach each other.

✏︎ Series CW: forbidden romance, slow burn, smut (18+ mdni), true love, internal conflict, student-teacher relationship, 10 year age gap, mutual pining, sexual tension, emotions, drama, angst, character development, happy ending :)

Chapter warnings: mild angst I guess? that's it :)

“Well I for one think the first lady’s new ‘Just Say No’ campaign is a great idea, it’s long overdue if you ask me,” said Mrs. Hutchins, to which your mother nodded in agreement.  

You stared down at your plate and poked at your green beans with your fork. 

“It’s about time there was a war on drugs, it’s gotten out of control in this country,” Mrs. Hutchins continued, reaching for the gravy.

You shoveled the green beans into your mouth to keep it occupied. You figured getting into an argument with Mrs. Hutchins over Reagan’s policies was not exactly what your mother had intended for the evening. Besides, it wasn’t worth your energy anyway.

Your dad gave you a silly look from across the table and you smiled at him.

You looked back down at your plate and thought about Eddie Munson again. This time it was about how he’d looked at you when you told him you’d be here. 

You wondered what Eddie would say to Mrs. Hutchins. He had an opinion on just about everything and you were certain he would not withhold it. Not for your mother’s sake, not for anybody. You suspected that it got him into trouble more often than not but there was something you admired about that.

You tucked into your risotto and tuned out the conversation.

He was sitting so close to you today. So close that a ringlet of his soft hair grazed your hand when he leaned over. So close that you could smell him. The same scent that enveloped you in the hallway the other day, although this time less bright notes of shampoo, more deep notes of leather and musk. There was that faint cigarette smell and something else too that you couldn’t quite place, like the warmth of his skin that was distinct and yet indistinguishable. 

Normally you were not keen on the smell of cigarettes. It lingered on just about everything. In restaurants and car seats, especially in homes. It clung to the clothing of heavy smokers with a stale musk that you hated, but on Eddie it didn’t seem to bother you. In fact, you were hesitant to admit that you almost liked it. 

“Andrew, why don’t you tell us about your new job,” suggested your mother.

You glanced over at the man sitting next to you, hardly able to believe that this was once the boy who used to collect G.I. Joe figures rather than play with them as intended. 

Andrew cleared his throat. “My job is to diagnose and correct issues with computer hardware, figure out what isn’t working and order and replace the corresponding parts. Occasionally it’s a software issue, in which case I can troubleshoot and reinstall certain programs.” he said, adjusting his glasses. He looked just about as thrilled to be here as you were.

“Do you guys sell computers there?” asked your dad.

“Yes, though my work is primarily in computer repairs, not sales.”

“You know I was telling my daughter here that I really think computers are going to be the future,” said your mom.

“Oh yes, absolutely. Personal computer sales have quadrupled in the last few years, all thanks to the Commodore 64 being so affordable,” said Andrew. “In fact I really think they ought to have computer classes in every school. I think I read recently in the paper that only 48% of schools have them.”

Your mom’s eyes lit up and she turned to you, “Do they have computer class at your school, dear?”

“Uh, no, I don’t think so. Not yet.” 

“Well maybe that might be something worth suggesting to the principal.”

“I doubt I would have much say in something like that.”

“I’m just saying, it’s worth a try, dear.”

You smiled curtly and glanced down at your plate again, scooting your green beens around in the excess gravy. 

“Speaking of school, why don’t you tell us a little bit about how your job’s been going? I do hope the students are behaving,” your mother continued.

“Oh, they have their moments but overall it’s been alright,” you said, “We’re studying The Catcher in the Rye in my senior class.”

Andrew raised his eyebrows, “Oh that book,” he said with a little laugh, “It’s a bit strange isn’t it? All I can really remember is how he kept calling everyone a phony all the time. I never understood it.”

Of course you didn’t. “Yeah, the stream of consciousness seems to throw some readers off. A lot of people end up missing the point.”

“What is the point anyway?” asked Andrew, but before you could respond Mrs. Hutchins interjected.

“Don’t you think that book is a bit inappropriate for children? I remember when Andrew brought it home all those years ago. At that time some of the ladies in my church group were trying to get it banned in schools. Clearly their efforts were unsuccessful.”

“My students are teenagers, not children, in fact some of them are already adults,” you said, and thought about recommending Fahrenheit 451 to her but figured the joke would be lost.

“Still, I think teenagers are too young to be reading about,” she lowered her voice, “hookers.”

You bit your lip and looked down at your plate again. It took every ounce of self control not to laugh. You glanced over at Andrew. He looked like he wanted to evaporate.

“I’ll tell you what,” continued Mrs. Hutchins, “Kids are getting into more and more worrisome and bizarre things nowadays. Did you see that special on the local news? There’s this game called Dungeons and Dragons and some people suspect that it’s a gateway, luring children into devil worshiping cults.”

This time you did laugh. “I really don’t think there’s any truth to that. The student I tutor plays that game. He talks about it all the time. It really is just a fantasy game that you create your own adventures in.”

“Well that’s what it might look like on the surface, but on this special they were talking about all the signs to look for if you suspect your child might have been lured. Now there’s the obvious symbolism like goats and pentagrams. Then there’s listening to heavy metal music — that’s a big one. Apparently there’s all sorts of hidden messaging in those songs, especially if you play the tapes backwards.”

Andrew’s face was in his hands.

“Boy, that sounds terrifying,” said your mother with furrowed brows before taking a bite of her pork roast.

You thought about Eddie Munson again. He certainly fit the description, though you were doubtful he actually worshiped Satan. You supposed there was no way for you to really know. He had quite a habit of talking about, well, just about anything besides school, but you doubted he’d openly admit to something like that. 

It was strange for you to think that you had really only known him for less than two months. It felt like you’d known him forever. 

If he did actually worship Satan, you supposed it wouldn’t really bother you. What you could tell was that he had a good heart. What you also could tell is that there was nothing you could say to Mrs. Hutchins that would change her mind.

______

Much to the disappointment of your mother, sparks did not fly over dinner. That was obvious enough for her not to arrange another, much to your relief.

The weekend came quickly, and it was a long one, which meant more time with quizzes to grade, and boxes that you had procrastinated unpacking. More time alone with your thoughts. 

Historically you never minded being alone, typically you relished in it. Lately you had been doing everything you could to combat the oppressive silence in your apartment and the noisy chatter in your mind.

On Saturday you practically wore out your records, exhausting your entire collection as you did some much needed cleaning. 

On Sunday it was difficult to get out of bed, so you just left the radio on when your alarm clock went off.

On Monday you sat on your living room floor in front of your TV and thumbed through the quizzes that you gave out on Friday, marking each one with your green grading pen.

You paused when you got to Eddie’s. 

There was a little drawing of a dragon at the bottom of his quiz along with a note that said “Slay me!”

You smiled for the first time that day, fingers tracing the lines where his pen met the paper, feeling the subtle indents left behind by it. 

You ran down the ten questions, he got nine of them right. You gave him a 90% and circled the A- at the top of the paper. At the bottom you wrote “You sure slayed this quiz!” with a little smiley face.

______

Eddie Munson had a way of creeping into your thoughts when you least expected it. It was like he had taken up permanent residence there, like a song stuck in your head.

It was far a better song than the sad and angry one that had been playing on repeat for months now, and at this point you would take any break you could get from it.

On Tuesday you couldn’t stop thinking about the way he smiled at you on Friday when he turned in his quiz. It was playful and warm.

On Wednesday he sat across from you after school. He was wearing a flannel shirt under his usual denim vest today. It was refreshing to see him in color for a change. The vibrant red suited him. He’d rolled his sleeves up, revealing a tattoo that looked like a cluster of flying bats.

“So, how did you do on your history test? Did you get your grades back?” you asked, bringing your attention away from his forearms. 

“Yeah, uh,” Eddie shifted in his chair, glancing off to the side, “I got a C,” he said quietly.

You nodded, your expression neutral, though there was a softness in your eyes. “How do you feel about that?”

Eddie looked surprised, “I…” he paused for a moment, blinking, “You know, honestly, when I first got my test back I was actually pretty happy about it,” he said. “I mean it’s better than I usually do, way better than an F.”

You looked at him curiously, “You said, ‘at first’ did something change?”

“Well, I mean a C is good for me, but — “ he glanced at you sheepishly.

“Then a C is good!” 

He looked relieved. “Oh, well in that case, then yeah. I guess I am pretty happy about it.”

“Eddie,” you said gently. He leaned forward at the sound of his name. “You don’t have to worry about impressing me, that isn’t what this is about. I just want to help you graduate, not be valedictorian,” you said, “I’m proud of you.”

Eddie beamed at you with those big brown eyes of his. Suddenly he glanced away, blinking quickly as he lifted a hand to scratch the side of his head to shield them from view. 

You leaned closer, sensing the shift in his body language. When he turned to face you again you could have sworn his nose was a little flushed, his eyes wetter than usual.

“Sorry, I don’t hear that a lot.”

Your chest tightened. You wanted to leap across the desk, scoop him up in your arms and tell him that a thousand times, but instead you just smiled softly and said, “Well, get used to it.”

He smiled at you again, big and broad. He fidgeted with the rings on his fingers and for just a moment you swore you could see past the hair, the patches and chains, straight through to the boy he once was, getting F after F. You could see the disappointed looks from everyone around him reflected in those eyes of his. He must have gotten used to them, steeled himself to them, resigned himself to the letter.

You felt the tears start to burn behind your eyes and you searched for anything to change the subject. “How did your campaign go on Friday?”

His lips curved into a mischievous smirk. “Found three new recruits actually, just last week.”

You raised your eyebrows and blinked, clearing your eyes of any evidence. “Oh yeah?”

“Oh yeah. I knew it the moment I saw ‘em, two freshmen sitting all by themselves at the end of a lunch table. They’d been there for weeks, just the two of them. You can always kinda tell with the freshmen, they just look like little lost sheep, ‘specially these two. One of the kids was wearing a Weird Al t-shirt,” he said with a laugh, “And that’s when I was like, ok, these kids should sit with us for a change. Well it turns out they’ve been playing DnD for ages, and they’ve got a friend in another lunch period who plays too, so now we’ve got three new members, which is great because, uh, we were kind of hurting for them.” He chuckled softly.

Eddie had an energy about him that was bold and magnetic. It sucked you right in. The timbre of his voice was bright and warm. It was oddly soothing. You enjoyed listening to him talk, watching his hands as they gestured wildly, which you figured was a good thing since he did a lot of talking. 

“Some kids just need someone to show them that school doesn’t have to be all bad, you know? I know that’s what I needed.” 

You imagined freshman Eddie sitting in the cafeteria by himself, lonely and lost, with his curly mop of hair much shorter than it was now. 

“Us freaks have to stick together, you know?”

You nodded sympathetically. “Yeah, I know. I wasn’t exactly popular myself,” you admitted. “Actually I used to help run an after school mentoring program in Indianapolis. A lot of troubled kids came through there, but it was so rewarding to watch them come into their own, find a place they felt like they belonged, you know?” you said, “I miss that part of my old job.”

Eddie rested his hand against his cheek and hummed in agreement. He looked like he was miles away and yet absolutely present all at once.

“I’ll admit that teaching wasn’t my first career choice, but it’s rewarding in a way that you just… can’t achieve by sitting alone and writing stories by yourself.”

Eddie smirked and gave a thoughtful nod, “That has its own rewards though.”

Your eyes twinkled. “Oh yeah, it definitely does.”

You shifted the focus toward his schoolwork. Today you helped him work through some equations in Trigonometry. Truthfully it took some refreshing on your part, it had been ages since you’d done it and you were more than a little rusty. Math was never really your strong suit anyway. The nice thing about formulas is that once you understood them you could just simply apply them and solve. Math seemed to be something that Eddie was naturally pretty good at though. You wondered if it had anything to do with having to deal with numbers frequently in his campaigns. 

“Alright, I think that about wraps it up for today. Not sure about you but I’m getting hungry,” you said.

“Ok, I’m parked right over there,” he said pointing out the window to the van in the near empty  parking lot. “We can walk out together. You never know what sort of monsters might be lurking in the shadows at this hour,” he said with a look of exaggerated suspicion.

You chuckled and your heart fluttered in your chest, “Sure, actually I’m the red sedan a few spots down.” 

“Great, I know a shortcut,” said Eddie.

You both packed up your things and headed down the main hall towards the gym. 

It was when you rounded the corner that you saw them — Jason and Patrick filling their water bottles at the drinking fountain. 

You gave them both a little wave, which they returned half-heartedly. There was a curious expression playing on their faces which you had hardly a second to study before you passed. Eddie didn’t even look at them. 

You could feel the tension in the air, and their eyes on you as you both left out the back door.

Eddie reached into the pocket of his vest and procured a pack of cigarettes. “Sorry, do you mind? I’m totally jonesing right now.”

“Oh no, it’s fine.”

Eddie gave a gracious nod and popped a cigarette between his lips. He flicked the lighter and his mouth was washed in a warm glow, illuminating the smile lines already prominent on his young face. They suited him.

He blew the smoke away from you with a relieved sigh and you walked toward your cars together in comfortable silence. 

The sun was low in the clear blue sky, casting a golden light over the parking lot. The leaves were just starting to change in fiery orange and yellow patches. You could smell autumn in the crispness of the air, in the leaves that had already fallen as they skittered across the asphalt. 

Eddie ducked his head under your car in a swift motion and looked around suspiciously. “Coast is clear, no monsters.” 

You gave a big belly laugh. “Good thing I have you to keep me safe.”

The wind caught his hair as he rose to his feet and turned to you. “For you? Anything.”

Eddie Munson was beautiful like a neon sign at night. Beautiful like graffiti, like an empty street that beckoned you to wander down it.

You could feel your heart pounding as you smiled at him, turning to putty at his words. “See you tomorrow, Eddie.”

“See ya.” He gave a little bow with his head and waved as he turned toward his van.

You got into your car and set your bag on the passenger seat, letting out the breath you didn’t even realize you’d been holding in. You could hear the roar of the stereo as Eddie’s van came to life two spots over.

You couldn’t help but steal another glance at him. His hair swished and swayed as he bobbed his head to the beat. He was wild like the summer wind as it ripped across a field. 

His eyes caught yours again and he flashed you a smile, bright and blinding.

If there was once thing you were certain of in that moment, it was that Eddie Munson was going to be the death of you.

At least you couldn’t get in trouble for your thoughts.

______

A/N: Oooo we've got a revelation on reader's part and next chapter I've got some really delicious moments in store so sit tight because this burn is gonna be slow but oh boy is it gonna be worth it!

I have one request — If you read and enjoy this, especially if you ask/asked to be put on the tag list, I ask in return that you reblog AND tell me what you like about this fic, even just something short and sweet! Please engage with me, it’s all I get in return for writing a story that you love for free 💜

Tag list: @mermaidsandcats29 @toxicjayhoo @ooo-protean-ooo @jadequeen88 @wroteclassicaly @kissmyacdc @newlips

@msgexymunson @bebe0701 @latenighttalkingwithgrapejuice @bibieeddiesgf @idkidknemore @miahellagreat @alizztor @godcreatoreli @shotgunhallelujah @ethereal27cereal @munsonsgirl71 @strangerthings1983fan @eddiemunsonsbitcch @tlclick73 @emxxblog @siriusmuggle @sidthedollface2 @dollalicia @lma1986 @hayleylatour @catherinnn @maximizedrhythms @eddiemunson4life420 @readsalot73 @delightfulpeanutpiebiscuit @ruby-dragon @3rriberri @princess-eddie @nightless @bbyhargrove @eddiemunson011 @secretdryrose @eddieswifu @thew0rldsastage @quinnsfineline @chaoticgood-munson @edsforehead @hanahkatexo @lori7311 @eddiemunsonsbedroom @chainsawmunson @beep-beep-sherlock @mantorokk-writes @emily-roberts @averagemisfit03 @vintagehellfire @haylaansmi

Thank you all so much for reading and commenting along each week, it means the world to me!

[critters-crimson-hollow]

˜”*°• Signs I am an Angel Dust kin •°*”˜

Updated 12/10/2024 : Angel was the one writing all of these but we didn’t back then! He was blending with me so yeah! Since we didn’t know we were a system, we talk at the 1st person. Anyway, good reading~

I'm writing down the similarities with my kins. This post is about my Angel Dust identity, so I advise you to read the wiki to understand better.

It can be different for anyone. It doesn't mean you are less or more Angel Dust than I am, okay? I made this to help people who are kinsidering but also to help me. Because you'll see, I have some behaviors or thoughts that are very toxic that I want to get rid of.

I made a list to be less triggering as possible. If you know Hazbin Hotel, you can already know what kind of things you can find on my list.

Anyway, good reading~

(Sorry for the mistakes, English isn't my native language~)

basic things to start with

green eyes, name starting with 'a', european, the date of birth is the 1st of the month…

ITALIAN FOOD!!!

huge fan of pastas (lasagna, ravioli, carbonara…)

prefer fruits over candies

i like cooking

i like to suck...

POPSICLES!

gay femboy~

actually, achillean, but it's still gay

feminine curves (I'm transmasc, I'm a damn curvy man~)

long nails, ALWAYS

fishnets and high boots~

prefer shorts over skirts

feminine body language and mannerisms I just slay~

animal lover!!!

pet owner of two baby kitties~ i would give my life for them

cats, pigs, and cows as pets ♡

i hate moths, too scary

my personality is rather...particular?

arrogant when i dislike you, a tease when i like you

sassy and sarcastic

confident on the outside...

but insecure on the inside.

a sister who is like a bestie~

let's talk about traumas now!

family trauma!

overly sexualized since my childhood, yeah

but i like looking sexy tho

i hate my dad

alcoholic dad and alcoholic family

but my mom's side is neat, so it's fine

if my mom wasn't a sweetie, i would have become like my dad-

my dad makes drugs~

he learned me how to do so

but nope, i won't do that

SA traumas~

love/hate relationship with abuser

it was my step dad, he was a father to me

he is out of my life now, tho

unfortunately, when you have a feminine body, sexual harassment never stops-

PTSD, depression, anxiety because why not

convince people only want to abuse me if they come talking to me trauma related

want a solid relationship built on respect, with someone who values me and wants to be with me…

but don't believe it's possible

because i'm just an object for men, right?

also, a good culture in sex subject without really knowing why

even if i'm aroace, i enjoy the idea of bdsm for some reasons

when i dream, if i encounter an abuser, i give them my body almost immediately

i prefer choosing to give it to them rather than being forced to

toxic, but i know i would do the same irl

i don't watch porn

~~inferiority and superiority complex~~

don't like being seen as vulnerable so…

masking at all cost!!!

"i'm doing just fine, darling." nope

i can handle myself.

but can someone help me..?

self desctuctive

negative self-talk and neglective of myself mostly

i get addicted too easily

to people AND things...

subscribed to toxic people, in friendship mostly

have a few friends i would give my life for

so protective, loyal and caring for them

i prefer being hurt than seeing them hurt

fear of abandonment

often feel like i don't worth people affection

i'm too messy

but i want to be better

overall, a loser baby traumatized boy

That's all I was thinking about! I'm not very proud of being this way, but I can't deny it. I didn't want to have Angel as a kin for a lot of those reasons and also because since I kinfirmed him, flashbacks and memories (from both my current life and kin life) are more recurrent.

I will do the same with my other kins but I wanted to start with my highest kin. -Angel/Stolas

[wiccxn-child]

Divine Intervention

Hi all, I usually wouldn't post here as I'm not as involved in paganism as I used to be (I would say I still am pagan, however), much less online. I've always been a little more agnostic than actually believing the deities I work with are tangible beings, as I have a lot of trauma with fundamentalist Christianity and have a little distaste for literal faith, personally. Obviously, if you feel differently, that's perfectly valid. It's just how my spiritual journey has progressed over the years.

However, I just went through an experience that I genuinely feel was some sort of divine intervention.

I run a game development organization at my university, and over the last semester or so, a freshman I met became one of my best friends through this group (this will be important later). We'll call them Merry. Every Friday, after out meetings, a majority of the group goes out to dinner at a restaurant here in town. Because of Easter, we weren't going to have a meeting or our dinner this week. However, I truly think something intervened in my fate and put me exactly where I needed to be.

On Thursday, I was at my department's building, waiting to briefly meet with my advisor after he finished teaching a class. I almost didn't stay, because I had work soon after, but something just made me decide to stay anyway to meet with him. While I was waiting, Merry passed by me, and mentioned they had forgotten to take their medication and was heading back to their dorm to do so. Understandably, I was like "aw, that sucks" and then said "it's for epilepsy!" and I was obviously like "oh yes, go get that!"

I was supposed to go home for Easter weekend this Friday, to spend some time with my family. Since my university is 4 - 5 hours away from my hometown, I haven't been able to visit very often due to work and being extremely busy with my masters program. However, Thursday night, my parents called me to inform me that they had contracted COVID, and didn't think it was a good idea for me to come the next day. I was disappointed, but understood.

Because I was in town, although we couldn't have our weekly meeting, I decided to have dinner with the organization members who were still in town for the break. The other members (including Merry) decided to hang out later that night, and although they invited me, I wasn't sure I would go as well since I had a exam to take and was worried about being exhausted. However, I eventually decided to go last minute after I had completed the exam when my friend asked me I was going.

I showed up at 10:15p, and we hung out a little bit and eventually started watching a movie around 10:30p. Merry and my other friend were smoking, but I was sober since I have a drug screening for my medication coming up. I considered drinking that night, but once again, I decided last minute that I didn't really feel like it.

Merry had a seizure at exactly 11:00p. They stood up, collapsed, and started seizing. I was the only one who even knew they took seizure medication, and as my other friend panicked, I realized what was happening. Thankfully, I called 911 and I instructed my other friend to put Merry on their side. EMS came and we got them to a hospital and nothing severe happened other than a massive headache and some carpet burn from their fall, and obviously the hospital bills, but no money is worth someone's life.

I found out later from Merry's mom that they had only had one other seizure before - their doctor wasn't even sure if they had a seizure disorder or if it was a one-time occurrence, since they hadn't had any since. It wasn't something anyone was expecting, not even a little bit.

I realized today, that if all these things hadn't aligned weeks in advance, things may have gone terribly different. Not only could my other friend had been dealing with this situation on their own without any idea what was happening, but we probably would've never met for dinner if I hadn't been in town and thus my friends wouldn't be hanging out last night in the first place. Merry could've been in their dorm, where they no longer have a roommate. They could've had a seizure alone, and no one would've known. There's a very real possibility that they could've have died last night.

I am so grateful that things happened the way they did. And so many little situations occurred at just the right spots to ensure I never went home and was there in that moment.

I really feel like something knew I needed to be there for my friend. I'm really thankful, whoever you are.

[akabane-yum]

OTP Asks - All Of Them (9-16) <- Part One

For @toorumochi assass :P

For the Angst

9. Have they made each other cry?

Short answer: Yes

Long answer:

Karma knew that Gakushuu would be a difficult person to live with and that he was sensitive despite his hard exterior, but that didn’t mean he didn’t get annoyed too sometimes.

That night they were arguing about who knows what, saying things they didn’t mean, when the insults became half truths and eventually full truths that became insults. Karma said something along the lines of “Oh, and it’s not my fault your dad didn’t raise you right but it your fault that you’re becoming exactly like him, don’t ask me why I’ll need therapy more than twice a week after this.”

If it hadn’t already clicked to Gakushuu that they were fighting fighting before then, now he got the message. He ran out of the room without another word and Karma had to pace to cool down. Karma decided to sleep on the couch that night and only realized Shuu went off crying the next morning, when the air was cold and rigid and Shuu had tear stains under his eyes. Karma didn’t say anything though, he didn’t really know how to fix it. They ended up spending that whole day apart and eventually had a long talk.

———————

Gakushuu made Karma cry when he told him they’d probably end up breaking up. Karma was joking about meeting Shuu’s mom and Shuu just laughed saying he didn’t think they’d make it that far. That messed with Karma’s perception of permanence and what he thought they were. He thought they were gonna get married some day and that they were going to live together and... what? He tried to ask Gakushuu why he thought they wouldn’t make it and Shuu seemed unbothered. He said something about how they were incompatible in many ways and how they were both handfuls and how life would get harder and how Karma probably wouldn’t be able to handle all the weird changes in Gakushuu’s life because of how the businesses was booming. They said goodnight after that and Karma found himself outside at 3am taking a walk. He didn’t realize he was crying till he came home and Shuu asked him why he was crying. His first instinct was to say he was doing drugs but that would get them nowhere. Instead he said he didn’t want to talk about it, and they went to bed. He could think about permanence another day. And he did, they talked about both that and their insecurities going forward to try to salvage their relationship. (I can imagine that this is a few years into their relationship.)

10. Write a ~300 word argument scene for them.

In another post !

11. What causes them to fight?

The lighthearted answer would be: anything and everything. They fight over how many pillows they need but always laugh about it in the end.

Another answer would be: the fact that at the beginning of their relationship they were insecure about themselves. You know you really shouldn’t get into a relationship until you love yourself enough, at least in most cases. But for them I’m guessing that the mutual attraction was enough for them to get together, which isn’t always bad b u t for them they had a lot to unpack. It’s surprising and maybe even kinda toxic that they stayed together after the first part of their relationship but now they’re happy. I can imagine that they’re happier as adults at least, and that they still do fight over small things like the TV volume but those fights don’t even count as fights. It’s just a little conversation to keep them going yknow?

12. Do they have differing political opinions?

Kinda? Gakushuu is a businessman and probably took a course called “creating capitalism” so we can assume he’s pro capitalism, and on the other hand Karma joined the bureaucracy in Japan (and Japan is, if I’m not mistaken, a socialist country) so he’s probably at least pro socialism.

I just want to comment on how this is cool because Gakushuu being pro capitalism is a solo player as the CEO with the most shares of his corporation. Whereas Karma who we assume is pro socialism works as a bureaucrat for the government. Which is cool because capitalism is more about individuals climbing the corporate ladder and whatnot whereas socialism is more of a government intervention thing where the government has control and places limitations. (There’s way more to it but I tried to badly summarize.) So they’re both doing very well in their respective economies. That being said, we could go into the capitalist tendencies in Japan but we won’t! AHEM THE MAIN QUESTION WAS ABOUT POLITICS BUT I WARPED IT SORRY THEYRE PROBABLY BOTH MORE LIBERAL BUT I WONT GO INTO THAT.

Anyways to finish off explaining the “kinda” I answered with, I said kinda because I don’t think they feel strongly enough about their own (preferred) economies to argue about it. Though maybe Karma will complain about some of the disparity in wealth he sees between Gakushuu and others but honestly I don’t see them caring much, since they have the luxury of living in their own bubble of karushuu happy fun. I hope this blurb made sense.

13. Name something they would never do for the other person

Gakushuu would never give up his ambitions to be with Karma. Sounds sad but after letting go of some of those insecurities that were there at first, he’s found his self worth and won’t give up all his hard work for anyone. Is that selfish? Personally I don’t think so, because it would be selfish for someone to ask him to let go of his dreams for them. Karma would never do that anyway, so. By give up his ambitions for Karma I mean like if Karma were to ask Gakushuu to drop his work or him, he’d be dropping Karma.

Karma would never settle down entirely because Gakushuu asked him to. This is similar to the first one but I don’t think he wants to calm down and live in another tropical country and retire young just because they have enough money you know? Not like Gakushuu would ever ask him to slow down but if he did then Karma would still probably work a few jobs because of how boring life would be without something to do. This is basically like Gakushuu’s but I feel like Karma’s is less intense and he wouldn’t break up with Gakushuu right away because of this.

Take that as you will ^^

14. What would be a dealbreaker

This is the same as the last one I think. Telling the other to slow down and pick between their passions (for work lmao) or them. Since it’s the same ish for both of them I don’t think there would be that much of an issue though. Maybe if Karma killed Shuu’s cat then that would be a dealbreaker, who knows.

15. What are traits they dislike in one another?

Karma dislikes how Gakushuu is a workaholic and Gakushuu hates how Karma is taller than him :P also how quick he is at making impulsive decisions. HmMm maybe also how Karma snores- that’s not even a trait i- anywayyyyssss

16. If they broke up, what would be their opinions of each other.

Oh boy. I’ve thought about this for not karushuu things too so here’s my take on this:

Karma would consider Gakushuu as an addition to the toxic people in his life. First his parents, then some of his teachers, and now his first boyfriend. He’d remember the happy moments they had together but quickly try to replace them with the sadder memories. He’d try his best to paint Gakushuu is the worst lighting, he’d villainize (not a word but shh) him so he could go on thinking he didn’t do anything wrong and it was Gakuhsuu’s toxicness that tore them apart.

Gakushuu wouldn’t think of Karma. Not after a bit of time, not because Karma never came to mind again after the breakup, but because any thoughts of Karma would be illegal. Honestly I can see him thinking that his time with Karma was an era of weakness. He can’t go back to that weak state, not even in his memories, so he doesn’t. (Well maybe in the middle of the night some days he does but he’d never admit to that.) I hope my grammar here was bearable lmao.

I’m sorry I’m tired lmao I can’t proofread but yk :))) next part up soon!

[ghostmartyr]

how a life can move from the darkness [14/15]

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 |

Summary: Two drug addicts (Eren and Historia) meet in group and decide to be roommates to make their living situation slightly less weird. From there we do the slow burn found family dance mixed in with the struggles and agonies of recovery. Heavy on friendship feels, especially EMA. Eventual yumikuri.

Usually I’m pretty firmly in the “Author Chose Not To Use X Warnings” field, but this section of the story goes full tilt into the parent death that got us to this point, and it’s not particularly gentle. Proceed with whatever level of caution you care to.

And yeah, your eyes do not deceive you. Unless something unexpected happens, there’s only one more piece of this planned.

Which means there’s a prayer of this being completed before 2023. Cue all the dramatic gasping.

Let me know if you like it. :)

----

“My parents never liked me getting into fights. I got into them a lot. When I was really little, I didn’t care. Everything was so boring. Then I woke up. I started thinking that maybe the world was a place people could do something about. We weren’t all just stuck. What we did could make things happen. We could do anything. Anything we wanted. All of us could.

What some people wanted sucked. They could do anything, be anyone, and they’d pick on people smaller than them, hurt them, say things when they thought no one was around to get them in trouble.

I could be around. I could say things back. And if that didn’t work, I could make them hurt, because they deserved it. Because you’re not anything worth being called human if you look around at other people and say they’re not. Telling them that wasn’t enough to make them get it. Sometimes the only thing that would work was grinding their face into the ground. That would shut them up. That would get them to stop. That was what they deserved. And it felt good. It felt really good.

But I didn’t know how to throw a punch. I didn’t know any blocks or throws. I would just hit them. Even the ones who cried, like they didn’t know what hurt was when all they did was hurt—they’d figure out how to hit back.

The worst of it was always after school. That’s what cowards do. They wait for no one looking. They want to run away from all of the crap they cause in case some of it splashes back on them. They can’t stand actually being there for it. They can’t take their hits and get back up, they just fuck up and fuck off, trying to act like none of it ever happened.

 .

I liked making them hurt.

I liked fighting, too.

I liked feeling like I was actually doing something.

But I wanted them to hurt more than anything. It made me feel alive. These people, pretending to be human, walked around thinking nothing could touch them. They ran away from anyone that scared them. Anything. And I could surprise them. I could let them know that all that running didn’t get them anywhere. I could take that smug sense of safety they’d taken away from everyone else and smash it.

That’s what I wanted to do.

Then they’d hit back, and I—sucked. I’d go home covered in bruises. I tripped over my own feet sometimes because I was trying so hard to punch them in the face.

My dad was usually still at work when I got home. Mom was the one who’d get to me first. She wasn’t happy about it, then he’d come home late and hear the whole story, then he wasn’t happy about it. They didn’t listen. They cared about why, sometimes. Sometimes I’d yell why I did it faster than they yelled at me for doing it, and they acted like they understood, but they didn’t like any of it.

Dad was family practice. As a doctor. But before that he spent a lot of time patching people up in the ER.

He’d come home, take a look at me, and take me out back to sit on the porch with his first aid kit. Mom would—

I—

I waited for him to come home before I let anyone clean me up. Because he was a doctor, and I was too angry at Mom to let her touch me. That’s what I said.

That wasn’t it.

He was around. He wasn’t ever—it wasn’t like with Zeke. He had a lot of work, but those were his patients. He cared. He came home late because he cared about treating them, and treating them properly. That’s how—that’s—

Mikasa lived with us a while, because of that. When something bad happened, he did his best to make it better.

That’s probably why he hated me getting into fights so much. He saw the part of me that wanted to make everything worse, and he didn’t want that. Even for the people he should want that for. But when he came home those nights, he’d—he’d patch me up. He’d talk to me about it. He’d always try to get me to see how I wasn’t really making anything better. I was just leaving a mess.

I always thought he was wrong.

Always.

I didn’t want him to be right.

I wanted people to get what they deserved, and I wanted to be the one to make it happen.

It made me feel—

It made me feel more than anything else ever did.

Even when I was terrible at it. Mikasa did a better job scaring them off than I ever did.

Fighting felt like what I was meant for.

Mikasa’s cousin ended up taking her in after—everything. He taught martial arts. Weapons, karate, judo, basic self-defense… if there was a way to make a person feel pain, he was an expert in it. More than an expert. You could see it just looking at him. He moved like he was the only real thing in the world, and everything else was just a prop he could knock over with a thought. And I—I wanted that. I wanted strength like that.

I wasn’t going to ask permission. I knew where the dojo was, and Armin found out what hours he was there. We could walk there after school and I wouldn’t have to hear how I should stop getting into fights. I was sick of hearing that the first time.

Mom found out.

She wasn’t supposed to, but I wasn’t—

I learned how to hide things from her later.

She didn’t want me going. She thought it would just get me in more trouble.

Dad talked her into it.

He told her—

He told me—

He wanted me to learn about something I cared about.

He wanted me to be safe while I did it.

He—

He always wanted me to be safe.

I broke a finger once, and he—he ran into the ER even with Mom already there. He picked me up off my chair in front of the whole waiting room and—

I was small. He could do that, then. He could pick me up.

He hated it when I fought.

I didn’t ever—I didn’t think about it like that. It always felt like he was trying to get in my way. Like they both were. I resented it. I didn’t think about me coming home bloody. That was what I liked. Even when it wasn’t real, there was still that feeling. I felt strong. Every single day, I’d practice until I couldn’t stand, and nothing ever—

I didn’t think anything could ever feel better.

I was covered in bruises most of the time.

He still always—

He’d come home, and show me how to dress things properly. He taught me how to do stitches on an orange. For a while, he’d buy extras on his way home so I’d have something to practice on.

I never needed that many stitches. But I—

It made him smile, when I practiced.

Mom was the only one who came to tournaments to watch me. She hated it too, but she—I don’t know. She said it was because she wanted to make sure someone was there if I got a concussion. I—I sometimes—

She looked proud, sometimes. When I won.

And I started to.

I got good. Punching, throws, stances—I soaked all of it up.

Mikasa could still put me on the floor whenever she wanted. That annoyed me a lot. It never really seemed fair that she was just—good at all of it. Even before she had any training. It’s as natural as breathing to her. For me…

It made me feel like I was breathing.

It was good.

I wanted to keep going.

I wanted to keep climbing.

I wanted to keep getting stronger.

I wanted to be the best.

Our—Annie was the one who took me to an MMA club. She was my sparring partner. Teacher, I guess. She’s—good. Like Mikasa. But not. They never got along. Their fights were always there to remind me what the best really was. It made me feel like I was just rolling around in the dirt, punching air. Fighting her felt like that sometimes, too.

She was a good—teacher.

I think it kept her breathing, too. She said she hated it, but I don’t think anyone can kick like that and not love how it feels.

It hooked me. I thought I had it. What I was going to keep doing until my bones ground to dust.

It didn’t matter what the discipline was, though.

Dad still didn’t come to any matches.

He’d buy me tape, and keep the first aid kit stocked, and check up on me to make sure I was getting every shot under the sun while I was bleeding all over people’s basements for practice, and sometimes he’d drive me, but he didn’t want to be there. Even Zeke showed up for a few. Dad just—

It wasn’t his thing.

Mom said once if he wanted to see blood, he never would have left the ER.

That was probably it.

And I got that.

Mikasa and Armin were both paranoid about me getting maimed, and putting up with one more person hovering wasn’t going to help me fight any better.

He still spent time with me. He’d ask how it went, and he didn’t mind getting the blow-by-blow. He just didn’t want to watch.

 .

There was this tournament.

Kenny—this guy Mikasa’s cousin knew—would host this gauntlet where he’d gather up anyone who wanted in. One night. We’d draw for our places, and then it was just about who could keep standing the longest. One year the finals ended before anyone threw a punch because they both passed out in the ring. It was about endurance. It was about finishing things so fast you made it to the next match without a mark on you.

Annie and Mikasa never bothered with that one.

Annie said it was a formless brawl. Mikasa—she only fought in more—official brackets, I guess. This wasn’t about the sport, or technique, it was just—

It was about winning.

I think it was my favorite.

And I was going to win.

I don’t think I’ve ever known something like I knew that. That time, that year, I was going to win.

Mom had something come up.

Dad said he’d come.

I don’t know why.

He never wanted to before.

I’d asked him to once or twice, and he told me no. He’d thank me, but he’d always say no. I’d stopped asking. It was enough to talk to him about it. I liked—it was just us. I’d relive the fights in our dining room, and get up on a chair or the table just to show him how it felt, and he’d listen to me. No one else bothered doing that. They were all there when they wanted to be, and they got sick of me bragging or going over where I lost it.

He always listened to the whole thing.

But he said he’d come.

I was—excited.

I’d never been that nervous over a fight. I didn’t know I could be nervous with fighting. Training, sometimes, but for the real thing, that was never a problem. It was always so clear. It was the only thing that was clear.

I couldn’t keep still. Armin kept trying to get me to sit down.

Mikasa grabbed me when I wouldn’t.

She could still do that. I was getting ready to win a whole tournament, and she picked me up like I was nothing.

It used to piss me off. I don’t know if it did that time. Maybe it didn’t. It was something normal about it all when nothing else was normal. I kept looking around trying to see where Dad was sitting. Like it was little league all over again.

Then it started.

It was like flying. All of the nerves went away. Or into my fists, or—

I don’t know what it was.

I was invincible.

I could have gone ten more rounds with anyone there. I wanted to. I didn’t want it to ever end. I got to the end of the bracket, and I was disappointed. It was all so easy. I think one of my eyes was swollen shut. I couldn’t feel it. It was like running a marathon without needing to breathe. I got to the end and I—

I won.

And I—

The fight was over.

And Dad was there.

He’d never— I’d never—

I think I was jumping. Up and down, over and over. My arms weren’t moving anymore, but my legs still worked, and I—I asked if he’d been watching. He shows up five seconds after I’m out of the ring, he makes it there before Mikasa and Armin, and I ask. I think I shouted it. I couldn’t stop yelling. All that noise that the matches couldn’t get out of me kept exploding, and I just needed to get it out and I—

He said it was impressive.

He said I was impressive.

He told me that.

He didn’t have a clue. He didn’t know what I—

He didn’t know what came next. There was just that moment. There was him, and me, and he—

He wouldn’t look at me like that now. He can’t. He’s dead, but he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t—

I—

I can’t remember if I hugged him.

It was so loud, and then Mikasa and Armin were there, and—I don’t remember.

I wanted to.

I wanted to hug him.

I wanted him to know how much it meant that—

.

He made me sit down.

He had this—Mom gave him this watch. He always used it when he was checking someone’s pulse. He said—she always joked about him being married to his work. He said he’d use it to remind work he already had his true love. He said that out loud, where I could hear it. I thought it was stupid. Embarrassing.

He wore it all the time.

He wouldn’t let me get back up. He kept telling me to follow his finger, and I tried but it was—it was like trying to grab water. I couldn’t keep my eyes open.

He said—

 .

He said he’d drive me to the hospital.

.

I let him.

I let him.

I could have stayed.

I could have celebrated with everyone.

I told Armin and Mikasa to stay. I told them I’d be right back.

They listened.

They listened when I told them to stay, because they knew—

 .

I wanted to be with my dad.

.

I got in the car with him. And I—

I talked about the fights. All of them. Like he wasn’t there watching them. I went over every blow, every hold, every—it was just like being at home, only we’d both been there for the real thing, and he was still letting be blather on like any of it mattered. It was all stupid, stupid stuff. He already knew all of it. He was there. He was there because of me, he was taking me to the hospital because he was there and he watched and he was worried and—

I was telling him about a block I pulled off when the bus hit.

I was still talking.

He was listening to me.

He wasn’t—he was being safe. A water main burst somewhere nearby, and—

He was a good driver, it was the other—

He was listening to me.

I don’t—

I remember—

I blacked out.

I was there, and then I wasn’t, and then I was there again.

I needed—I couldn’t see. I couldn’t feel anything yet.

I needed—I needed something to hold on to.

There was—a—I—

It was solid. Metal. I couldn’t feel my hands, but they could feel it. They found something to hold on to, and I—grabbed it. I grabbed it. It was this—I think it was a piece of the bus. One of those poles that keeps you from falling over. I—it felt—

I could hear Dad’s watch. It was ticking. It still worked. I was so relieved that something worked.

I had to get up. I had to get up so I could—do something. I had to do something.

I had to get up.

The only thing there was the pole, so I grabbed it.

I tried to push myself up.

It wasn’t working.

I pushed harder.

I pushed harder, and harder, and harder, and I—

That’s—

 .

I heard—there was a drumming. The pole kept—it was beating.

My hands were wet.

Only one of my eyes could open. I think. I don’t know. But it opened, and I looked.

They were soaked. There was so much red.

There was so much red, and I was still holding the pole. I was still listening to my dad’s heartbeat through it, and I could hear his watch, and I was looking at him, and his glasses were broken, and I don’t think he knew what was happening, but blood just kept spewing out of him, and every time I tried to move I was still holding the pole, and it would just go in deeper and more blood would come out and

 .

It stopped beating.

 .

I felt him die.

I got him there.

 .

He was only there because of me.”

 .

He could hear Historia’s breathing on the line.

It was dark. He could see his father’s gravestone, but he couldn’t read the words. Couldn’t see the dates listed. He only had the dates memorized. A good son, a better person, would have known the whole thing by heart, and not spent every discussion on how to memorialize his dad wasted.

“I planned it out,” Historia said suddenly. “We were living together, and he couldn’t stop drinking. Sometimes he thought I was my mother. Sometimes I was just me. He’d grab me and—I’d get scared. I spent the whole time we were together frightened of what he’d do. I never knew. The only thing I did know was where he kept the bottles, and the morphine.

“All I had to do was wait in the right room, and he found me. Usually I hid when he was like that. I pretended that was what I was doing. Hiding instead of waiting.

“I waited with the body. After. His fingers went blue. He threw up and I almost—I had to remind myself not to help. I had to make sure he couldn’t come back. But I was too afraid of doing anything more to him, so I just waited. And watched. When I thought he was gone, I checked his pulse, and it was still there. He was still, and blue, and there was something wrong with his eyes, but his heart was still beating.

“I checked again. And again. Then it stopped.

“I kept checking. We stayed there together for an hour before I thought it was safe to call anyone. He was so cold.

“But it worked. He didn’t come back.”

Eren’s heart thumped numbly in the echoing hollow of his chest. “You told me it’s worse when it’s on purpose.”

Historia was quiet.

He let her be.

His forehead found the cool stone, and he pressed himself against his dad’s name.

His heart kept beating.

“You can’t tell yourself the body wasn’t what you wanted when it’s on purpose,” Historia said. “If it gives you nightmares, you can’t complain. You’re the one who chose it. It’s all because of a decision you made. If anyone tries to tell you you’re not a monster—you know they’re wrong. You know what was in your heart, and it wasn’t anything that can be forgiven.”

He tried to remember. If he’d actually done anything that could be called a decision.

When they gave him that prescription, and he took too much.

When he took even more.

When he just took.

He wasn’t enough of a person to do things like making choices. He fell into doing the wrong thing without thinking about it at all. All his humanity bled out of him, all because he gave up fighting for it.

Not on purpose, because he wasn’t there to know what purpose even was.

But over and over again, he slipped.

He failed, and he knew he was failing, and he didn’t stop.

And what he did remember, in crystallizing detail, was what it felt like when people he loved tried to

“They forgave me anyway,” he said. Choking on the words.

“Ymir did, too,” Historia admitted.

“I hated them for it.”

Historia didn’t respond to that. She’d been there for most of it.

She was there for this part of it.

“Historia?” Eren said. “I don’t care if you’re a monster.”

He heard her shift. There was a small, audible pause in her breathing. “Thanks.”

They didn’t say anything else for a long time. Cold was starting to seep into Eren’s body, chilling the spots of skin the garden thorns had prodded through. The grass was leaving wet patches on his knees. He shut his eyes, and could imagine he was anywhere at all.

What he imagined was sitting at home, his dad pressing a damp towel to his swelling eye.

Smiling at his reckless son.

“I don’t know when I’ll make it home,” he said uselessly.

“That’s okay.”

“I’ll—I’m fine,” he said. “I’m not going to do anything stupid.”

“Okay.”

“I’m just hanging up.”

Another pause marked several of his heartbeats . “I’ll see you when you get home,” she said.

“Yeah,” Eren said. “See you at home.”

He dropped the phone to the ground and didn’t bother picking it back up.

It was cold. The dark was only getting spreading.

If he was back to making good decisions, it was time to go. He could come back another time. Bring something besides the thorns of an overgrown garden. Pretend he’d paid attention to what sort of flowers his dad might like.

He didn’t move.

The graveyard was still, and empty. For just a second, or an hour, that sounded like enough.

But the cold went deeper. It was inside of him, drawing out every bit of heat from his body. Telling him to just lie down and stay forever, erasing all the memories of broken glasses and ticking clocks.

Footsteps.

Eren had never been any good at masking his steps. Even when he grew a little, and figured out what it meant to hold himself with something like balance, it didn’t come naturally to him. He stomped and marched, and it was always too loud to concern himself with sneaking up on anyone. He announced himself, and he’d learned to be fine with that.

He wasn’t built like Mikasa.

When she moved, she was silent.

She had to try to make herself heard.

Like now.

Eren didn’t look up. Something more complicated than emptiness curdled in his throat. More complicated than strange phone calls and gravestones he didn’t remember picking. He couldn’t give it a voice. He didn’t think it had one. It was probably just more crying.

Mikasa didn’t say anything.

A convulsive shiver wracked his body, and he couldn’t say where it came from.

Light-footed as a ghost, she crouched next to him, and he looked up.

Half her face was muffled by her scarf, but seeing the shimmer of her eyes was enough. The protective heartbreak he thought he’d escaped so many times, but kept coming back, just for him.

With the darkness softening all of her usual edges, she looked just like she had when he and his dad sat outside her house, lingering on top of the ashes of her life. She’d stared at him, lost and bewildered, and maybe not seeing him at all. Her fingers were white around her dress, and the small puffs of air misting in front of her were weak and insubstantial.

His fingers clung to the slab in front of him. Ice growing in his chest.

He shivered.

Without a blink, Mikasa unwrapped the tail of her scarf and coiled it around his shoulders. When he didn’t jerk away, she kept going, adding another layer to tie them together. Adding a first taste of warmth to the night air.

He pulled the scarf closer, burying himself in it, and Mikasa squeezed her arm around his.

He hadn’t let her do that the last time they stood in front of this grave.

He held on tighter.

She held him back, and the warmth didn’t leave.

 .

“Mikasa… I miss him.”

“…I miss him, too.”

 .

----

After, after Mikasa helped him to his feet and he didn’t argue, after he skipped over the obvious question and went for the runner-up (“How did you find me?” “I knew where to look.”), after they wobbled to the gate and saw Armin leaning against it nervously, after he saw them back and threw his arms around both of them and Eren couldn’t remember how to let go of either of them—after all of that—

They got him home.

The three of them trooped up to the front door, Armin slipped his key out of his pocket, and they walked in.

Where a floor coated with blankets and brand new sleeping bags was waiting.

Where Historia jolted up into Ymir’s chin from their spot on the couch, fastening her eyes on him and not moving until he pulled off a slow nod that had his head feeling like a boulder about to tip off the mountain.

Where Benjamin was floating by his favorite hidey hole.

Where Armin and Mikasa chose to stay.

(“It’s late.” It wasn’t, really. “We have room.” Ymir caught him catching the price tag left on one of the sleeping bags and rolled her eyes, but didn’t open her mouth. She had a tight, unforgiving grip on Historia that he knew he was mirroring with Mikasa and Armin.)

Where Eren collapsed on the floor, cold and warm, between his oldest friends, sleeping bags fully unzipped so the three of them could share the blankets and each other in the same breath, and his head fell to his shark pillow that Historia had retrieved from his room.

Where, until his eyes slipped shut, he stayed with them instead of running away.

[ohblackdiamond]

life and life only (paul/victoria) (pg-13) (part 13 of ?)

part 1 | part 2 |  part 3  | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | part 11 | part 12 | part 13 | part 14

Mermaid AU. Paul lives in isolation in a sunken ship with his sister, until a new mer comes by to see his ship, and he starts to reassess the human world. In this chapter: Ace discusses mutations and Victoria, and Paul begins to indulge in the rockstar life.

The tour seemed to last forever. They never opened for the same band more than a handful of times, but their audience had gotten bigger, had started waiting for them in the hotel lobbies. Human girls, too, that everyone else would indulge in. Even Peter, when Lydia wasn’t around, would partake. Ace, too. Paul had figured if Jeanette was worth landlocking for, that they must be mates, really and truly, and he ought to be faithful to her. It was depressing to find that Ace’s attitude wasn’t much better than Gene’s there. 

“Sure, I love her. I’ll marry her. But Paulie… you can’t stick to one girl when they’re all out for you. They do something to you. I dunno.”

The worst part was that Ace was right. The crowd was starting to respond to him the more confident he became. Some of that warm feeling, that energy the crowd must’ve once given Victoria was his now, decadent and intoxicating, but it didn’t last. When he wiped off the makeup and tugged off the leather costume, he was himself again, underwhelming and fraudulent. The only way to keep that realization at bay was through drugs or girls.

He wasn’t much for drugs, beyond uppers (just enough to get through three days straight of concerts) and an occasional joint. Ace drank too much, and talked too much when he drank, busting through his own human alibi every time he got soused, but everyone always blew it off. No one ever seemed to believe the alien bit at all.

“They think it’s something I’m putting on. Like your Southern preacher schtick.” Ace said it mildly. “I ain’t ever getting drunk enough to tell them anything too weird.”

“Like having a tail?”

“Nah. Well, I told Petey once that the aliens made me small, and that was why I kept falling over.” Ace stretched across the couch. “It’s true, anyway. You lose out on, what, a foot or two going human? Throws you all off balance. No wonder I can’t fucking walk around here.”

They swam together on tour sometimes. Never at home. Rarely even in the Atlantic, aside for once on the Savannah coast and once down in the Florida Keys, while Gene and Peter both were busy with girls. They weren’t careful enough about it. Ace’s voice was only a twinge less high and strange underwater.

“You got that?”

Ace was looking at his bare legs one evening just after they’d both transformed back, the both of them sitting in a rented boat, not even bothering yet to head back to shore. It was one thing Paul still missed badly about the ocean, no one caring about nudity at all. Peter and Gene had been horrified by how little either of them reacted when the girls-- the groupies -- had first started getting gutsy enough to expose themselves from the front row.

“Got what?”

Ace gestured towards the inevitable purple patches. They weren’t too bad this time, one the size of a half-dollar, the other a little larger. The positions, sizes, amounts, all that always fluctuated each time he went from human to mer and back again, but they never had disappeared, not even now, four years in.

“I just fuck up the transformation a little, is all. I always have. They’ll probably go away when I landlock.”

“You think that’s what it is?”

“What else is it?”

Ace’s face contorted briefly, and then he shook his head.

“Nobody told you?”

“What were they supposed to tell me?”

Ace reached over, touching one of the mottled spots on his thigh. Paul stiffened up, but didn’t pull away. Those patches never had felt different from normal skin, anyway, not rough or dry. They just looked bruised-up.

“Mer are sort of inbred, y’know?” Ace started. “I remember Ma bringing me and my brother over to your ship when your mom died. I’m pretty sure I’m your third cousin or some shit like that.”

It wouldn’t have surprised Paul much at all if Ace was. Most all the New York mer had lived there for generations. Most all the New York mer even looked sort of similar. Dark hair, dark eyes, blue or purple tails. Victoria had stood out so much in comparison.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“You got a mutation.”

“Because of the splotches? C’mon, it’s not like I’m an underwear model here. It doesn’t matter.” And yet Ace’s face stayed concerned, like he didn’t want to explain further. Paul cleared his throat. “Right? It just looks bad. It’s just cosmetic, isn’t it?”

Ace hesitated, and then he shook his head.

“Look, I never knew anybody that had it, but…”

“But what?”

“You’re probably gonna have trouble landlocking.”

“Everybody has trouble landlocking.”

“Physical trouble.”

“Are you saying I won’t be able to?”

“Man, I told you, I never met anyone who had it before, how the hell should I know?” Ace was uncharacteristically cagey and tense. Paul watched as Ace pulled his knees up. “You might pass it on to your kids. It’s a real long shot, but--”

“That’s not so bad.”

“You serious?”

“They’d be human anyway, wouldn’t they? They’d just look like birthmarks.”

“Paul, that’s not what I’m--” Ace started, and he shook his head. “I don’t want you having a bad time, that’s all.”

Ace’s vagueness was putting Paul on edge. A bad time could mean anything. He wracked his brain. Ten years to landlock. He had six years left. If he started having problems, it would have to be a long, long time in. They couldn’t start affecting him now that the band was finally getting somewhere, now that stardom was maybe, finally, within reach.

“I knew another mer who had the patches,” he finally said. 

“Who, Victoria?” Paul swallowed at the sound of her name, but Ace just shrugged. “I didn’t know her, I just knew you really dug her.”

“How’d you know?”

Ace grinned. 

“Everybody knew. Little blondie showing up out of nowhere all by herself… and you with her all the time. Everybody talked about it for weeks, man.”

Paul could feel himself color. He’d had no idea. His world had been so small in the ocean, and he’d tried so hard to keep hidden, that he’d never imagined anyone else paying any attention.

“We courted.”

“She was real different. My sister said she…”

“What? What’d she say?”

“Aw, Paulie. Think we got time for another swim.” Paul watched Ace flinch, mouth faltering slightly as he reverted, electric blue scales overtaking his legs as they merged back together. Paul grabbed his arm.

“Answer the question.”

“Shit, it’s not that important.”

“Then tell me.”

Ace was still hesitating. Paul kept his grip steady on Ace’s arm. He’d made a bad gambit. Paul half-expected Ace to try and shove off his hold and turn back, but he didn’t. Maybe he just knew Paul would keep pressing the question no matter what.

“She said there was something wrong with her.”

“The patches?”

“Not that. She didn’t start out like us. She went in reverse.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean she was born human. She started going mer when she was eleven or twelve.” Ace looked away, and Paul let go of his arm, backing up a bit, giving him some room. Ace shifted, pushing himself up with his arms and letting his tail dip down over the side of the boat, into the water. “Fucking sad. Her parents were landlocked and everything.”

The picture of the little girl on her mirror. Paul’s skin prickled at the memory. It really was her. In the back of his mind, he’d known that much all along.

“Did… did she say how that happened? How would she know about something like that?”

“How would I know? I just heard it from my sister, man. I didn’t interrogate her.” Ace reached over, grabbing onto the side of the boat with his hands, lowering himself fully into the water. Whether Paul joined him or not, he knew the subject was closed. “Victoria was your mate, wasn’t she? Why don’t you ask her?”

--

He wrestled with it for days after. He was distant during concerts, rattling out the same songs almost via muscle memory, and coming back to his hotel room-- still shared, ostensibly, with Peter, but Peter wasn’t usually there for more than a few hours. Peter prodded him about his moodiness, but he didn’t really press Paul too hard. Too busy trying to hide some other affair from Lydia, probably. Paul didn’t care.

He was going over everything he remembered from her, looking over it all in a new light. Like watching a movie with a twist ending. Some of the signs had always been there. How she had that picture, how she knew far more about the human world than a mer should have, and so little about the mer world.

It must have been horrible for her, having to change that way. He wondered who’d taken care of her when it happened. How, and when, she’d learned to go human again. Resourceful as she was, he didn’t think she could have lived on her own in the water at that age.

She’d kept it from him. All the time she’d shown him so much while hiding herself. He wondered if she would’ve always tried to keep it from him, if they’d stayed together. Sickly, he was almost jealous. Until going ashore, he had never been able to cover up what was wrong with him.

A week or so after Ace’s revelation, while Peter was out, he finally took a girl back to his hotel room. He rationalized everything about her, from her blue eyes to her long, straight blonde hair to the soft, quiet way she spoke.  It didn’t matter. The girl didn’t matter. He didn’t need to keep faithful to a memory when Victoria had never really given herself up to him at all.

Being with her wasn’t as satisfying as being with Victoria. The sensations weren’t as good. But he was out of practice, way out of practice. And there were other girls now, a half-dozen at least in every town wanting him. A hotel room encore, one last chance to feel special for both of them after the curtain fell.

He was surprised the next morning when Gene knocked on his door wearing nothing but a white bathrobe, a room service tray laden with pancakes in hand.

“What’s that for?”

“I heard you got laid again,” Gene said, and grinned. “Congrats.”

“Oh, c’mon, Gene--”

“No, I’m happy for you. You’re finally seeing things my way, aren’t you? How was she?”

“Fine. She was fine. Put those down--”

Gene strode straight into his hotel room, setting the tray of pancakes on top of the nightstand. His mouth curled as he surveyed the tangled sheets and took a seat on the corner of the bed.

“You should’ve took a picture. Hell, I should’ve took a picture.”

Paul winced. If Gene knew, that meant Ace did, too. Peter must have told them both. It had probably even spread to their manager and tiny group of roadies by now.

“It’s not that important, is it?”

“Your debauchery? Always.” Gene didn’t even wait on Paul to sit down before he started on the pancakes himself, dousing them with syrup before grabbing a forkful. “My Miranda finally stopped pining and started partaking.”

Paul wasn’t entirely sure what Gene meant, and didn’t ask. He wondered if he’d always feel that way around him, endlessly four steps behind.

“Did you bring the pancakes for you or for me?”

Gene just waggled an extra fork in his face.

[ordinaryschmuck]

My Favorite Moments from It All Started with a Jacket (Chapters 1-10)

Now that I have written ten chapters of It All Started with a Jacket (how the hell are y’all still reading it), I thought I comemorate the occasion by sharing my favorite moments from each chapter. More specifically, every moment that was the most fun for me to write. This can range from moments that made me laugh at my own dumb jokes, or moments that I felt proud of for how well they turned out. Either way, this list is gonna be long. Like, rrrreeeaaallllllyyy lllooonnng. So you might want to strap in before clicking ‘Keep reading.’

Chapter 1

Amity and the car horn

"Oh no, you don't!" Luz sprinted over to Amity's car, to which her rival had already gotten in, and locked the doors. Just as Amity started the engine, Luz was already there, beating her hand against the window.

"If you think I'm too afraid to break a car window, you've got another thing--"

HOOONK!

"...You've got another--"

HOOOOOONK!

"You've got--"

Amity raised her hand above the car horn again with her eyebrow raised and her grin amused. She was essentially challenging Luz to finish that sentence.

"..."

"..."

"...You'vegotanotherthingcoming--"

HOOOOOOOOOONK!

"THAT TEARS IT!"

Amity sniffing Luz’s jacket (the main reason why I wrote this in the first place)

Amity set the hanger back where she found it and slowly lifted Luz's jacket up to her face. For a while, she did nothing, choosing instead to just stare at it. And then, she briefly took a small sniff.

'Well, that was a mistake,' was all she could think as intoxicating smells of pinecones and lemons started overtaking her senses. Almost immediately, Amity grabbed the jacket with both hands and shoved her face into it, inhaling more of the scent. After letting out a euphoric sigh, Amity looked at it again, shrugged, and put it back on.

Amity’s apology

"I said that I'm sorry." Amity continued, "Not just for the jacket, but for everything. The insults, the name-calling, and especially the fighting. I'm sorry for all of it."

"...Are you dying?"

"Wha--No!" now Amity turned to face Luz, "Why is that the first thing that came to your mind?"

"I don't know, man," Luz shrugged, "This just seems like some sort of final repentance type of shit. Like when Tom needed Jerry to sign him off to take the escalator to heaven."

"Who the hell is Tom and Jerry?"

"The greatest comic duo of all time, that's who!" Luz genuinely seemed insulted that Amity didn't know, to which she rolled her eyes in response.

Luz’s reaction

Luz opened the door and was about to leave. But then:

"I saw the bi flag."

After Amity spoke, Luz froze in her place. One foot was out the door, and her face was already turned away from Amity's, so she couldn't gauge an expression. So Amity took her chance to go on.

"It's hidden in a spot a person could barely notice, so there's no way that it came with the flag already sewn it," she explained, "Even if you bought the jacket from someone else, you could have easily torn it out. I've seen you done worse. But you kept it in, which makes me think that maybe...That maybe you're bisexual."

Luz didn't say anything.

She didn't do anything.

Instead, she stayed frozen in place, and Amity still couldn't tell what was going on in the human's mind at the moment. Not that she ever could. Eventually, Luz slowly and stiffly sat back in the passenger seat and slammed the car door shut. Her eyes were tight shut, and breathing was ragged, and Amity thought Luz was seething. But then Amity recognized what Luz was doing. She had done the same thing many times when forced to talk with her mother.

Luz was forcing herself not to cry.

Luz’s rant

"...Did you not tell anybody?" was all Amity could ask.

"...I told Willow," Luz confessed, "She has gay dads, so I thought: 'Hey, she gets it.' Other than that, nobody else knows. Except for you."

"Not even your mom?"

"Especially not her! She's super religious! If I came out to her, then I might as well pack a suitcase and get ready to live on the streets!"

"Why?"

"Because humans are not like witches," Luz looked back at Amity, clapping her hands for emphasis, "For humans, what matters in life is the color of your skin, the people you like, and the gender you're given at birth. Go against any of that, and you're screwed!"

"That's awful."

"That's life!" Luz stated, her eyes glistening, "And I had to put up with that bullshit for all of it! I had to deal with dumb gringas in the locker room who might think that I was a pervert just because I liked girls. I had to deal with pretending to be interested in one gender and hide a part of myself that people think I should be ashamed of! I had to deal with the fear that the one person I trust the most might throw me to the curb because of something that shouldn't even matter!"

Luz paused to wipe tears that had leaked out from her eyes.

"I had to deal with all of that," she went on, "Because that's just what humans are like. I wish we were like witches. I really do. But we're not, and the sad part is, we might never will."

Chapter 2

Luz is a prick

Luz kicked a discarded beer can down the sidewalk. Only to just as quickly picking it up and ditching it in a recycling bin that someone left out on the curb for trash day. Luz may be a rebel, but she isn't a lazy prick.

"And what the hell does me being bi have anything to do with it?"

"Bi what?"

Luz stopped both her walk and her ramblings after hearing that voice. Looking to her left, Luz saw a woman carrying her groceries to her house. That woman is Mrs. Kranstien, a white, middle-aged gossip who's part of Luz's mom's church group. Also known as the last person Luz wanted to find out that she's bisexual.

"Uh, bilingual," Luz brushed it off, seeming like she isn't panicking right now. Which she is. "Significa que hablo dos idiomas. What else could I mean?"

"Well, you don't have to be so rude about it," Mrs. Kranstien harrumphed, "It is not becoming of a young lady."

"Y no tienes que meter la nariz donde no pertenece," Luz shrugged, "Pero, ¿quién soy yo para juzgar?"

"...What does that mean?"

"It means you're absolutely right, and I am so sorry for being so rude," Luz turned on her heel and kept walking, "Adios, gringa!"

"Is 'gringa' a compliment!" Mrs. Kranstien called out as Luz walked away.

"Sure is! Make sure to say it to your friends when you have the chance!"

Ok, maybe she is a little bit of a prick.

Luz’s indecision

"Should I do this?"

Luz gently rubbed the blade of the knife.

"...Yeah. Yeah, I definitely should."

She lowered the blade over a thread sewn in but stopped a tenth of a millimeter away from it.

"But it's not even noticeable."

Luz raised the knife away.

"Although Blight did notice it."

And lowered it back down again.

"But that's because she was wearing it. It's not like mom could ever wear this."

"But what if it's laundry day and she takes the jacket without you knowing?"

"I mean, that could happen, but she would have to actively search for it."

"Is that really worth the risk, though?"

Luz started twirling the knife in her fingers at this point. The bi flag still remained intact, with not a single thread being taken out. Most days, Luz would barely notice it, and she's the one who always wears her jacket. Now, more than ever, the bright colors of the flag seemed incredibly noticeable.

"No," Luz shook her head, "It's not worth the risk."

She lowered the knife again and even got the blade under a thread. But before she could do anything remotely similar to removing the string, she hesitated. Again.

"...But it's also who I am," Luz sighed, pocketing her knife and putting the jacket back on.

"It's a part of me," Luz lightly beat the back of her head against the wall, "Taking it off isn't going to change anything, and it especially won't make me any less bi."

Chapter 3

Nerds being nerds

Amity nearly spat out her slushie.

"You read The Good Witch Azura?" Luz rolled her eyes at the question.

"Alright, listen," she started, "Before you make fun of me for it, you should know--"

"I love Azura."

"--It's not the cutesy kids' book that people think...it...is..." Luz looked shocked as she faced Amity's wide grin, "What did you just say?"

"It was my favorite book series growing up," Amity explained, "It still is, today."

"...No shit."

"Yeah! In fact, when I was nine, I wished I could have been just like Azura herself."

"Same!" Luz's smile became just as wide, "The grand adventures? The ability to just get along with everybody she meets? That was the shit for when I just a little tater tot."

"For me, it was how powerful her magic is," Amity confessed, "I could only dream of being as talented as she is."

Chapter 4

Snowball fight

And that's when something cold hit her in the back of the head.

Turning around to find the culprit, Amity saw none other than Luz hiding her laughter behind a hand.

"Did you just do what I think you did?!" Amity asked incredulously.

"Hey, we may be cool now...but I'm gonna take a shot when I see it. Alright?"

Amity glared at that, drawing a spell circle soon after. At the circle's completion, two dozen snowballs began to rise in the air around them, and Luz's face became pale to the sight.

"...On second thought," Luz nervously smiled as she raised her hands in surrender, "Parlay?"

"..."

Amity pointed her finger at Luz, and all of the snowballs immediately knocked the human onto her back.

"I don't think so," Amity quipped, walking over and offering a hand to her friend.

“Drug” deal

"Is that a bad thing?"

"...Eh, probably not," Luz shrugged, "I got the goods in my backpack, by the way. You want me to give it to you now, or wait until after school?"

"t sounds like you have drugs in your backpack with the way you said that."

"Who says that I don't?"

Amity let out a light laugh. Luz didn't even seem shocked anymore.

"I'll wait until after school," Amity said when they got to the double doors, "The last thing I need is the wrong person to find out that I like...you know what."

"Got it," Luz nodded only to then lean closer to whisper, "I'll see then for the transfer. And if you get caught, I was never there."

"Ok, now I got to ask: Are you actually planning to give me drugs after school."

"Of course not!"

Luz winked.

"Drugs are bad, especially for our age."

She winked again.

"I wouldn't ever dream of doing something so vile."

And again.

"...I hate you."

"What else is new?"

"Just give me the book after school, doofus!" Amity said between chuckles.

"Yes. Of course. 'The book.'"

Luz winked for the fourth time, and Amity just pulled the human's beanie over her face in response. The two then laughed as they went their separate ways.

Amity’s jealousy

"Hey, is it ok if I ask you a favor?"

"Depends," Luz blew into her hands for extra warmth, "What's the favor?"

"Well...Skara invited me to a party she's throwing next Friday. And I was wondering if you could come with me."

"Which one is Skara again," Luz asked, "I know she's one of Boscha's lackeys, but I can't remember. Is she the tall and skinny one, the small and cute one, or the hot yet nerdy looking one?"

If she wasn't wearing gloves right now, Amity would wager that her knuckles went white with how tightly her hands gripped the steering wheel.

"You think Cat is hot?"

"Eh. Objectively, yeah," Luz shrugged, "Also, I didn't know her name was Cat. Should probably make a note of that."

"She also has a boyfriend," Amity said a little too quick, "And she's straight as a board. So go ahead and...unnote that. Just take that note and...throw it in a river somewhere."

"...Ok? Weirdo."

"Anyways, Skara is the short and--" Amity steeled herself before saying, "Cute one."

Luz helping Skara

She eventually found herself in a hall that led to bedrooms, only to see Skara sprinting around and picking up discarded beer cans and red solo cups and tossing them into a trash bag. She then opened a random door, squeaked, and slammed it shut, leaning against it while pressing her palms into her eyes.

"Why do that in my parents' bedroom!?" she cried to no one in particular.

Usually, Luz wouldn't give a shit about any of Boscha's lackeys. And yet, something compelled her to walk over.

"Are they making out or doing something worse," she asked, which caused Skara to look up in surprise.

"...What...What are you doing here?"

"Don't question it," Luz nodded to the door, "In there. Are they just making out?"

"...Yes, but it's still--"

Luz pounded on the door, making Skara jump.

"Hey!" she shouted, "That's not your bed, assholes! If you want privacy, then go to the back of your car like decent human beings!"

"We're not humans!"

"Not the point!"

For a while, nothing happened. Then finally, two boys walked out of the room, hand in hand with their clothes ruffled, and started shuffling their way down the hall. Skara just stood where she was, not knowing what to say or do.

"Hey," Luz snapped her fingers to get Skara's attention, "If a person starts acting like a prick, be an even bigger prick. Someone's going to eventually back down, so don't let it be you. They'll get the point, then. Oh, and by the way..."

She pulled the photo out of her jacket's pocket and tossed it to Skara, who then fumbled with the thing before catching it.

"Someone tried to steal that," Luz told her, "I don't know where it belongs so, there you go."

Luz then began to head in the direction of the stairs.

"Thank you."

The broken tone of voice made Luz freeze for a second, turning over her shoulder to see Skara looking at the human, her eyes full of gratitude and amazement.

"...Don't mention it," was all Luz said before walking down the hall to find the stairs.

Literally, everything that Drunk Amity does. But here’s the top five:

#5-Snuggle time

"I hate my life," Luz muttered, shuffling over. She pulled the covers up and slowly got into the bed. But once she did, Amity didn't waste a second wrapping her entire body around Luz's. Like a koala bear, clinging to a tree.

"...Do you mind?" Luz's voice cracked.

"What? I'm sleeping on my side."

"Yeah, but I'd prefer it if you slept on a side that wouldn't result in me getting puked on."

"But how will we snuggle?"

"Oh my god," Luz sighed, "You're not gonna back down from this, are you?"

"Mm-mm."

"...tell you what. If you flip onto your other side, I'll--I can't believe I'm saying this--I'll...spoon...you."

Amity gasped, her eyes practically glittering with stars as she looked up at Luz.

"That's even better," she whispered, untangling herself from Luz's body so she can flip onto her other side, already getting into a position to receive comfort. Luz, slowly and reluctantly, turned over to wrap an arm around Amity, pressing their bodies together.

'This is probably punishment for...every shitty thing I've done in my life," she thought to herself.

#4-Drink it!

"Drink it!"

"No!"

"Drink it."

"No!"

"Drink it!"

"Noooo!" Amity flopped face down onto her pillow as if she was a five-year-old. The bunny-print pajamas that Luz changed her into didn't help, either (it was the minor victories). With one hand, Luz started messaging her temple out of annoyance, while the other hand gripped tight onto a glass of water.

"Amity, if you're gonna lay down like a baby, then lay on your side," she explained, "If you face down, or up, then you'll just drown in your own vomit. And is that how you wanna go out?"

Amity flipped onto her side with a harrumph.

"That's what I thought," Luz held the glass up to Amity again, "Now drink this water."

"I don't wanna," the witch wined, "It doesn't have flavor. It's boring. Give something less boring."

#3-Amity’s love for Emira

"Who are you talking to?"

"Your sister."

"Oh! Hey, Luz," Amity started tapping Luz on the shoulder, "Luz, Luz, Luz, Luz--"

"What?"

"Tell her--Listen--Tell...Emira that she is the worst...and that I don't like her. It's an--Look--It's an inside joke between us. She'll understand it when you tell her."

"...Will do."

"Oh! And Luz,"

"What?" This time, Luz was starting to get aggravated.

"Emira--Don't tell her this part--But Emira is, like, the most important person to me. And Ed too. Sometimes. Because they've both always been there for me when our parents are being bigger dicks than they are. I just don't--Hey--I don't tell them that because then they'll make fun of me for it. So don't-- Shh! Don't tell her."

"...You got all that, right?" Luz asked into the scroll.

"Sure did. What the hell did she drink?"

#2-Tossing cookies

Amity's face suddenly paled. Luz couldn't figure what was wrong at first, at least until she saw Amity lurch.

"Oh, shit," Luz then guided Amity over to the nearest potted plant, "Shit shit shit shit--"

Once at the plant, Amity bent over and...lost her lunch.

"...Are you o--"

And then her breakfast.

"...Are--"

And finally tossed one last cookie for good measure.

"...You good?"

"Yeah," Amity looked up at her victim, which was already starting to wilt, "...This my mom's favorite plant..."

She then slapped it.

"Fuck you, plant!"

And #1...

The good news is that Luz finally found her.

The bad news is that Amity was standing on top of a table as everyone stared at her.

"I am the lesbian queen of the universe!" she shouted, "Y'all can bow down and kiss my ass!"

"Get it, girl!"

"You bet I'll get it, whoever you are! Seriously, who said that?" she called back, turning in a circle to find the source of the voice. However, because of Amity's drunken state, she soon tripped on her own feet and fell off the table. Luckily, Luz was quick to realize that wearing heels and being drunk was a bad combination, so she had already run over to the table, ready to catch Amity.

The green-haired witch landed in Luz's arms, bridal princess style. Luz then set her down, but Amity still wrapped her arms around the human's neck.

"You're my hero," Amity said wistfully.

"Yeah, I'm a real knight in shining--" But Luz didn't get a chance to finish her snarky remark. Because Amity leaned in to plant a wet, sloppy kiss onto Luz's cheek. This caused the human to go still and red-faced, her brain ceasing to function as Amity pulled away with a Mwah!

And on the topic of kisses

Luz remained still for a minute or two, ultimately thinking 'screw it,' and kissed Amity's cheek. It was about a millisecond, maybe even half of that, but it did not stop Luz's face from heating up.

"There. Happy now?"

"Nope," Amity faced Luz with a drunken smile, "Because now it's my turn."

"Wait, no- Mmph!" But it was too late. Because the second after Amity spoke, she leaned in to kiss Luz's cheek, giving Luz no time to even turn her head. Which resulted in Amity giving Luz another wet and sloppy kiss, not on her cheek, but right on her lips.

And perhaps it was just as long as Luz's kiss. Probably even a second longer. But for her, it felt as though time had come to a standstill as Amity's lips were pressed against Luz's. But regardless, Luz didn't pull away. She didn't even shove Amity off, despite having every reason to. In fact, when Amity finally pulled away from the kiss, Luz had this strange desire buried deep within her brain, yet she was still aware of it.

Because despite how weird it would be and how Amity's breath will absolutely taste awful, Luz felt a strange desire to kiss her friend again.

Chapter 6

The morning after

Curious, Amity looked over her shoulder to see the culprit.

'Oh, it's just Luz," she thought, slowly turning back over.

...

Amity's eyes popped open.

She whipped her head back to look over her shoulder, which was a mistake because the sudden rush made her hangover say, 'screw you,' and leave Amity with a ton of pain. Once it slowly wore off (or, at least, became a bit more bearable), Amity got a good look at the person behind her. And what she saw both warmed her heart, as well as stopped it.

Luz. Sleeping in Amity's bed. Pressed up against the witch and peacefully smiling as she dreamed.

This left a myriad of thoughts in Amity's head.

'Luz is in my bed.'

'Luz is in my bed, and she's spooning me.'

'...I need to wake her.'

But just as she was about to wake her friend, Luz, in her sleep, then shuffled herself further against Amity. Her sleepy smile had grown wider.

'...And I am dead. I am dead, have ascended the stars, and this now my life for eternity.'

Huge misunderstanding

Luz remained still, glancing between Amity's eyes and her lips. Ultimately, she closed the distance between them and kissed her.

And kissed her again.

And again.

It felt so amazing, with each kiss sending a wave of euphoric energy through Luz's body. It was everything she didn't know she wanted.

"Luz?" Amity gasped.

"Hm?"

"Are you awake right now?"

"Mm-hm," Luz mumbled as she continued to kiss Amity's sweet, soft, hairy--

'Hairy?'

***

Luz peaked open her eyes, and instead of seeing Amity's face, all she saw was bright green. Remembering where she was, Luz's eyes became wide once she took in the fact of what she just did.

"mmBAAAAAAAH!" Luz shrieked, pushing herself to the other end of the bed. Unfortunately, she pushed a little too far and ended up falling off the bed entirely, face-planting onto the floor.

Luz’s hairball

It was Luz's turn to get up as she walked over to the pile of her clothes on the desk.

"Just let me change first and--" She coughed, "--And I--"

Suddenly Luz was coughing severely, her face going red from lack of air.

"Luz?"

"What's wrong?!"

While coughing, Luz pointed at her throat.

"She's choking!" Viney deduced, "Hang on, I got this!"

She ran over and went behind Luz. Placing the thumb side of her fist over the human's abdomen and placing a hand over said fist, Viney began performing the Heimlich maneuver. After a few thrusts, Luz finally coughed out what was obstructing her throat. Once she could breathe again, she got a look at what nearly killed her. Only to see a clump of wet, green hair on the floor.

"...Is that--"

"Anyways, I'm gonna go ahead and change!" Luz squeaked quickly, grabbing her clothes off the desk and dashing into the closet. Viney and Emira looked over at Amity, who, red as a tomato, pulled the covers over her head.

Amity explaining why she likes Luz...which goes on for a good chunk of the chapter and it would be ludicrous for me to paste it onto here. But trust me. It’s a great moment

Chapter 7

Pastor Benson’s sermon and Luz’s prayor

"I think I can speak for all of us when I say that the world is constantly changing," Pastor Benson began his sermon. "For every day, new lifestyles and ways of loving others are introduced and integrated into our society. Just the other day, I was given a chance to experience this first hand."

That caught Luz's interest for a moment.

"You see, my nephew gathered the whole family, everybody that he trusted, and did something none of us could have ever expected. He told us all that he was a homosexual."

Immediately everybody started murmuring with each other. And Luz had to admit, she was more than curious to see where Benson was going with this.

"I know, I know," he silenced the crowd, "I was surprised too. And as he continued, both he and his boyfriend, which was another shock to find out, started telling us all about what it means to be what they are. They explained what they considered the basics, answered questions, and soon enough, Micheal's parents stood up to give him a hug, and everyone else took turns letting him know that he is loved."

Now Luz was really interested.

"Later, I took Micheal aside so I can have a heart to heart with him," Pastor Benson pressed on, "I said to him that he is my nephew and that I will always love him. And no matter what, God will love him too, like all of his children."

For the first time in her life, Luz hung onto every word that a pastor said.

"But sin is still a sin, and I said that it's not too late to save his soul."

'There it is,' Luz thought, slumping into her seat and hoping that her mom didn't notice her reaction. Pastor Benson continued his sermon, but Luz mentally checked out, not caring about what he has to say next. It didn't matter if Benson told the secrets to the universe or the meaning of life. Because of what he said, Luz tuned him out for the next few minutes, stirring in a pissed-off mood she genuinely tried to keep out of church.

"--Now, I would ask you all to join me in prayer before we bring this congregation to a close," Luz heard Pastor Benson say fifteen minutes later. Everyone then simultaneously lowered their heads to pray, with Luz right along with them.

'Dear God,' she prayed, 'If you could be so kind, could you send down an angel or your son or something to tell all these homophobes that being gay isn't a sin. And the only reason why people think that's true is that some dickhead mistranslated a line somewhere. A translation, by the way, that was meant to tell people that pedophilia is awful. Something that some of your own pastors should learn from time to time.

'Because if you could send someone down to get the record straight, I, and many others, would really appreciate it...also sorry for swearing while during prayer. That wasn't cool of me. Bless my mom, and praise be to you.'

Camila and Claire

"If you ask me, that was crossing way over the line."

Camila looked over to her friend Claire, who stood with her as they waited in line at a makeshift buffet table to grab breakfast.

"Are you talking about Pastor Benson or his nephew?" Camila couldn't help but ask.

"Oh, absolutely, it's Benson," Claire whispered so as not to draw attention amongst the chatter, "I mean, here you have a kid who was in a safe space and just wanted to be accepted, only to have your uncle basically say you're going to hell. The man might as well have punched poor Micheal in the gut."

"Aye, I am so happy that you said that," Camila grabbed two plates for herself and Luz, who sat at a table for them. "I understand that he's a person of the lord, but that's taking belief a little too far. I believe in God, and I love him with my whole heart, but I would never say anything like that to Luz. If she was gay, that is."

"I'm right there with you," Claire nodded as she piled food onto her own two plates, "I have five kids. Two of them moved out with relationships of their own. But if my other three ever come to me and say that they're gay, then the last thing I'd do is make them feel ashamed of it."

"Right? I always make it clear to Luz that she can tell me anything. Especially if it's something like that."

Mrs. Kranstien calling Camila a gringa

"As I said, keep an eye on her. For both of your sakes," the gossiper said as she turned to walk in her own direction, "Adios, gringa."

Camila did a double-take.

'Did she just...No,' she shook her head, 'No. She couldn't have.'

Amity’s reaction

"...So we're just going to be spending some time waiting...alone...in a big house with nobody else around?"

"...Basically, yeah," Luz shrugged, "See you then. Oh! By the way, and I know it goes without saying, but try to do something that hides those ears. Because the last thing I need to do is explain why my new friend looks like an elf from  Lord of the Rings."

With that, Luz hung up, leaving Amity to sit still as a statue at her desk. Eventually, she slowly dragged her diary over, picked up a pencil, and began to calmly write.

So Luz, literally right now, just asked me to come over to hang out at her house, completely unsupervised, as we wait to have dinner with her mom. Current mood: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

Chapter 8

Boscha’s rage

"You little jackass!"

Luz turned away from her locker to see Boscha stomping over. It was the end of the school day, and Luz was already beyond stressed about having Amity over to her house. The last thing that anyone needs, least of all her, is to deal with Boscha's bullshit.

"Little?" Luz said with an annoyed tilt to her head. "Bitch, I am absolutely taller than you!"

"Not the point!" Boscha yelled once she finally got up to Luz, "Because here's the thing: You draw on my face, I'll be annoyed. You rip my scroll in half, I'll be pissed off. But make people think I have a crush on FUCKING, Matt!? That is something I should kill you for!"

"...I didn't draw on your face."

"YOU--" But Boscha stopped herself to take a deep, calming breath before looking back at Luz with murder in her eyes, "That slimy, greasy, weasely little weasel has been hitting on me ALL DAY! And it's all because of you posting on social media that I like him. I mean, what the FUCK did I do to deserve that?!"

"...Do you really want me to answer that?"

Misunderstanding

"Hey."

Hesitantly, Amity glanced over at Luz again. Who had put her full attention into the girl in front of her.

"Do you wanna make out?"

"WHAT?!"

Luz jumped at Amity's screech.

"...I said, ‘do you want take out?’" she repeated, lifting up her phone, "My mom just said she's going to be a while and isn't in a cooking mood. So she wants to know if you're cool if she picks up some chimichurri sandwiches on the way home."

"Oh. Oh! Yeah, that's fine," Amity could feel her face grow hotter by the second.

"Ok?" Luz texted a reply to her mom, "...What did you think I said, anyway?"

"..."

"It must have been something bad to make you react as if I called you the c-word."

"...So this movie is interesting!" Suddenly, all Amity's attention went to the tee-vee, "My favorite character would have to be that, uh, that girl with the...dyed hair and...giant hammer--What did you say this movie is called again?"

Luz opened her mouth to say something, but a small ping! from her phone distracted her for a bit.

"My mom wants to know if you have any allergies," she said.

"I do not."

"Got it," Luz sent her reply, "Now, as for what you thought I said--"

"Table it for later."

'So I can have time to think of a proper excuse.'

"...Alright."

Luz went back to watching the movie for another minute, looked at her wrist for some reason, and then stared right back at Amity.

"It's now later."

"Luz--"

"Look, if it's something embarrassing, don't worry about it," Luz waved off her friend's concern, "Your brain just misinterpreted what I said. It's no big deal. I'm just wondering what you thought I asked that got you all hot and bothered."

'She called me hot--FOCUS!'

"You really won't judge?" Amity asked for clarification.

"Can't be any more embarrassing than what I did on Saturday."

'I guess that's true.'

"Well," Amity nervously fiddled with the hem of her dress, "I thought that...that you asked if...I wanted to...make...out..."

She glanced over, and, sure enough, a blush was beginning to form on Luz's cheeks.

"...Oh," the human said.

"But it's like you said!" Amity quickly exclaimed, "My brain just misinterpreted the words! It's not like you would ever ask me to do that, right?"

"...Of course not."

"...You hesitated?"

"Hm?"

"I said that you would never ask me to do that, and you hesitated when saying no. Why did you hesitate?"

"I didn't hesitate."

"Yes, you did."

"Pretty sure I didn't."

"Well, I'm definitely sure that you did."

"Well, if I did, then that's because, um..."

"...Because, um, what?"

"..."

"..."

"...So this movie, huh?" Luz looked back at the screen, "It's, uh, Scott Pilgrim, by the way. Just to answer your question...from earlier...about what movie this is..."

And thus came the thickest, most awkward silence between them. Understandably enough, Luz now had no problems with sitting as far away from Amity as possible.

"...How long until your mom gets home, again?"

"Should be another two hours."

"Damn it."

"Yeah."

Baby pictures

"Actually, I do have a photo of that day in an album somewhere," Camila added, "I could go find it and prove to you how innocent Luz was."

Now Luz's face went pale as Amity's brightened with glee.

"No, she doesn't!"

"Yes, I do!"

The poor human glared at the rich girl.

"No. You don't."

"Yes. I do."

"Right then," Camila finished her sandwich and got out of her seat, "You two sit tight. I'm going to go find that album."

Once her mother was out of the room, Luz scooched over to Amity with murder in her eyes.

"I would like to point out that you still owe me, like, five more favors from what happened last Friday," she whispered-growled, "So I would like to cash in one of them for you to not look at my baby pictures."

"And I would like to point out that you saw me at my lowest last Friday," Amity said with a smarmy smile, "Which means I'm at least owed some middle ground."

"...I hate you."

"Sure you do."

Gravity Falls reference

'There's that weird feeling again,' she thought as a tingling sensation formed throughout her gut. It wasn't the first time that day when Luz felt this.

She felt it when seeing Amity's human ears, when Amity admitted that she always wanted to be friendly, and especially when Amity thought Luz wanted to make out.

'...Wait...do I--'

Luz shook her head.

"No, no, no no no," she said to herself, "There's no way. There's just no way! I'm sure this is just some...indirect way of Boscha's words getting to your brain."

Luz turned around to go back inside.

"By tomorrow, you'll laugh about how ridiculous a thought like that is."

At Midnight.

Ever since turning in at nine, Luz could not for the life of her go to sleep.

Why?

Because her head was filled with nothing but thoughts of golden eyes, wild green hair, and a smirk that became all the more attractive, the more she thought about it.

"...Goddammit."

Chapter 9

Skara’s advice

"In that case, as her best friend, I have to tell that she will destroy you."

"Whatever."

"And as her best friend, I probably shouldn't tell you to go for any of her weak spots."

"..." Luz shared a curious look with Gus and Willow, who shrugged. "What weak spots?"

"Well, as her best friend, I shouldn't tell you that Boscha suffered a lot of injuries from playing grudgby," Skara explained, "Like the fact that her right arm hasn't healed right and she prefers punching with her left. Or the fact that she's still recovering from breaking her left leg and that if you kick the back of it hard enough, she'll crumble."

"...It's too bad that you didn't say any of that," Luz played along, "Because that would all be incredibly useful. And I would have to ask why you would tell me that in the first place."

"Hypothetically speaking, if I did tell you all of that--which I didn't--it would probably be because I'm still a little mad that she destroyed my house for the sake of getting Amity back. And that I'm just as sick as you are that Boscha wastes so much time trying to win back a girl that is clearly not interested."

"In that case, I really hate that you didn't tell me any of that stuff. Because then I would have thanked you for the advice."

"And I would have said, 'You're welcome,'" Skara looked left, right, and hugged Luz for a fraction of a second to then scamper off to who knows where.

The first hit

"Uh-huh...I don't know what that means, so here's a question: What happens when I break that oath?"

"Oh, trust me, you won't break it. Now, are you ready to eat dirt, human?"

"Born ready," Luz said, regaining her confidence, "In fact, you can have the first punch."

Boscha raised an eyebrow.

"Really? You sure you want that?"

"Of course. That is unless you're too scared of breaking a nail--"

SMACK!

The entire stadium went 'Ooooh,' due to Boscha sucker-punching Luz so hard that the human immediately went down and into the dirt. Needless to say, Luz was very much awake now.

"JESUS CHRIST!" She shouted as she slowly stood up, nursing the now bruising cheek that Boscha hit. "What the shit do they feed you rich girls?! Also, what happened to no hitting the face?! That was my face! You said no hitting the face!"

"Oh, no, I meant my face," Boscha reiterated, "My face is off-limits. Yours is free real estate."

Adrenaline rush

While Boscha was distracted by that, Luz looked over at her own friends.

Willow scowled with her fists clenched, looking like she was about ready to jump in to kick Boscha's ass for Luz.

Gus was cheering for Luz to get up. At least, she thinks that's what he was doing. A sudden ringing in Luz's ear currently made it hard to decipher what anybody was saying if they weren't close enough.

And then there was Amity, who held Luz's jacket tight to her heart, eyes wide and complexion pale.

That's when it hit Luz: If she loses, she'll be forced by some magic bullshit to never see Amity again. All these weeks of getting close and building...whatever the hell their relationship is building towards would have been for nothing. Worse yet, Amity will be left with Boscha, who would treat the green-haired witch with as much dignity and respect as Boscha treats her friends.

It was the mix of fear and anger from that thought that gave Luz just enough adrenaline she needed to turn towards Boscha and kicked her hard in the left leg.

Goodnight

"Cool. Hey, mom?"

"Yes, mija?"

"If a person asks you to have lunch with them, just the two of you, what would you think that means?"

"I assume that means a person wants to date you."

"Cool. Anyways, I'm gonna go to bed now. Goodnight."

"You’re what?"

THWUMP!

Startled by the noise, Camila turned around to see that Luz had fallen face-first onto the living room floor.

"...Luz?"

"Hm?" Luz mumbled.

"Are you ok?"

"Mm-hm."

Chapter 10

Earmuffs

"Hi, Luz! Question: Me being a male cheerleader. Yay or nay?"

"I think it's absolutely a 'yay,' but we can talk about that later," Luz said as she sat down, "For right now: Earmuffs."

"Aw, what?" Gus whined, "C'mon!"

"No complaining. Earmuffs."

"But I'm younger than you two by two years. I can totally handle grown-up talk."

"Earmuffs!"

Gus groaned, reluctantly covering his ears, closing his eyes, and humming to himself to further block out any noise.

Assumptions

"I don't give a shit that you're dating her." Willow said plainly.

"You see--Wha-wha-wha-wha-What? What? I'm sorry, what? Just...Fucking what?!" Luz exclaimed, completely caught off guard.

"Hey, don't get me wrong," Willow continued, "I would much rather see you date almost anybody else in this school. But if--for whatever reason--Amity is the person you really want to be with, I won't say anything about it. The heart wants what the heart wants. Who am I to judge?"

"...We're not dating."

Willow blinked.

"You're not?"

"No."

"...You're not?!"

Spray Bottle

Then suddenly, bits of water started spritzing onto her face. Looking over, Amity saw that it was because Viney was using a spray bottle on her.

"Bad," she said between spritzes, "Bad Blight."

"What the hell?!" Amity hissed, "Why do you even have that?!"

"I take Beast Keeping," Viney explained as she pocketed her spray bottle, "It comes in handy, so I just keep it on me at all times. Now, back to your dumbassery..."

"Hey, try to look at this from my point of view, alright?" the younger witch growled, "You never had to deal with Luz and her dumb smirk or her...cute round ears and those...those gorgeous brown eyes that are so warm and soft and make you feel all ooey-gooey like a warm chocolate cookie and--"

Viney started spritzing Amity again.

"GAH! Sorry," Amity said, snapping out of it.

And that’s about it. Thank you all so much for reading this story for this long, and a very special thank you to @drabbles-of-writing for letting me write this story in the first place. Now if you don’t excuse me, I’ve got school shit to work on.

[spaceskam]

From A Whisper To A Scream (6/10)

Summary: Michael has a support system whether he likes it or not.

Word Count: ~4k

Warnings: toxic people bein’ toxic lmao

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

ao3

Michael woke up to a hand on his forehead.

He jolted awake at the feeling of someone touching him, only for it to be Sanders sitting on the edge of his bed and looking insanely worried. It took a few seconds of heavy breathing, but Michael settled back into his mattress and balled up more in his blankets that were cocooning him. He felt a little less like he was going to explode with power than the last time he woke up, but he was still uncomfortable.

Then again, he would probably be uncomfortable for the rest of his life.

“In all the years I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you lose control like that,” Sanders said. Michael squeezed his eyes shut and bowed his head. It was too early for that conversation. Technically, he didn’t know what time it was, but it felt too early. “You passed out on the floor.”

“I’m sorry,” Michael said. Sanders didn’t say anything, but the bed creaked as he moved.

“Sit up, drink some water.”

“I don’t want to.”

“You’re going to drink it,” Sanders said, not room in his tone for argument, “And you’re going to eat. You need to flush whatever’s in your system out somehow.”

Michael peeked up at him again. So he knew something. How much did he know? That was a question Michael constantly found himself asking when it came to Sanders. He always seemed to know way more than he was actually willing to say.

“You’re not going to school. You’re going to stay here for a couple days until your system clears,” he said. Michael shook his head.

“No, I-I have practice and‒”

“Michael,” Sanders said, “I know you won’t tell me what’s goin’ on, but you ain’t goin’ anywhere. If your mama saw the way you were last night, she wouldn’t let you out of her sight, so I ain’t either. Not until I figure out why you feel like you’re gonna die.”

“My mom did let me out of her sight.”

“For your own good,” Sanders insisted.

Michael couldn’t help but disagree. Even if she had thought it was, he couldn’t imagine how the life he was leading was better than the time he didn’t get with her. It wasn’t fair at all and it never would be. He just wanted her. He wanted her more than he ever had before.

They were quiet for a moment before Michael eventually sat up a bit and drank the water he was forcing on him. Then he laid back down and Sanders didn’t leave. After a few more seconds of sitting in silence, Michael realized Dog was laying on his bed behind him, both Dog and Sanders seeming to have no intention of leaving him alone as if guarding him.

If only they knew that he wasn’t worth guarding.

“Michael,” Sanders said. Michael looked up at him again. He never used his name like that. “Is it a person?”

“Huh?”

“What you think is tryin’ to kill you, is it a person?” Sanders asked. Michael didn’t answer, but that seemed to do all the speaking for him. “We can grab a bag and go.”

“Sanders…”

“I got people across the country that know too much, Boy, I say I need a safehouse, I can find one,” Sanders said. And, once again, it was saying more than he ever really had before. Sanders didn’t talk about those years in between losing his makeshift family and coming back to Roswell to find him. Michael had just assumed he’d stayed angry and alone everywhere he went.

Apparently that wasn’t the case.

“No, they can track me and I don’t want to put you in danger,” Michael admitted. Sanders huffed a little laugh.

“Boy, you ain’t thinkin’ if you think I’m not already in danger,” he said simply. Michael balled up more. “Didn’t say it was ‘cause of you.”

“We can’t just leave.”

“How are they trackin’ you? If it’s your phone, we can trash that. If it’s somethin’ else, I know a guy up in Montana.”

Michael laughed softly, but it didn’t come without a wave of tears in his eyes. He didn’t know what was the right thing to do. Maybe he should just leave, but what would happen if Eff found him? Or if one of the many people Eff worked with? Or, worse, he took it out on someone else that he’d run away? 

“I can’t leave Isobel and Max.”

“Well, I can’t do much about that, but they ain’t my responsibility,” Sanders said. Michael sniffled and shook his head.

“I can’t leave, but you should. I-I don’t want you to be collateral damage,” Michael insisted, rubbing his eye with his fist. Sanders laughed bitterly and his hand gripped Michael’s shoulder.

“I don’t usually like you thinkin’ I’m old, but I am. I promised to keep you safe and if somethin’ happens to me doin’ that, then I ain’t collateral damage. I’m just doin’ my job,” he said like it was simple. Michael sniffled and shook his head.

He hated this. He hated this so fucking much.

“I need to go back to school Tuesday and act normal, go to my games and practice and pretend it’s not bothering me,” Michael said, wiping his face, “It’ll buy me time to figure out what to do. I just, just have to be on my best behavior.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Michael said, taking a deep breath, “But can you do me one favor? Don’t let Alex come over.”

Sanders looked at him in confusion for a moment, but something akin to understanding dawned on him and he nodded. Michael wasn’t sure what exactly he got from that, whether he assumed Alex was at fault or if he jumped to the idea that he was protecting him. Somehow, it was both and neither at the same time.

“Alright, Boy, I trust your judgement. I’mma go make you somethin’ to eat, stay here.”

Michael had no desire to move.

-

Alex liked having Flint around, he really did, but the silence outside of the clink of silverware was deafening.

He kept looking between Flint and his father, waiting for something to happen. He knew they wouldn’t speak about the business in front of him, but he thought they’d do something. Instead, it seemed to be full of just them staring at each other and angrily eating. If it was anything other than father and son, Alex would’ve assumed he was intruding.

Hell, part of him still felt like he was intruding.

“So, Alex,” his dad said, still not looking away from his brother, “You’re eighteen now.”

“Yes, Sir,” he said, nodding his head. 

It was weirdly formal, but his father hadn’t actually acknowledged his birthday on the actual day. He never really did, especially after his mom left. It seemed like he viewed it as a very rude reminder that his wife had left him. Alex was fine with not celebrating as long as it meant he didn’t have to deal with any backlash.

“Dad,” Flint said, voice stoic, “No.”

Their dad tilted his head as he looked to Flint with nothing but sheer contempt. Alex shifted uncomfortably in his seat. The two of them stared at each other, seeming to hold a silent conversation all about Alex. He wasn’t a fan.

“In a few weeks, you and I are going on a trip,” his dad said, turning to Alex again. Alex nodded.

“Yes, sir.”

“Dad,” Flint said.

“What, Flint? You were 18, Gregory and Clay were both 18. Alex is 18, it’s time. He’s a grown man now,” he said. It was the first time he’d spoken like Alex had any agency at all and it was still involving his own decision about what Alex needed to do. Alex didn’t know whether to be excited or not.

“I can handle it,” Alex assured his brother, smiling softly. Flint didn’t smile back. All of his light excitement from the day before was gone and he nodded once before getting up from the table.

“Flint, get your ass back here and pick up your plate,” his dad instructed. Part of Alex expected Flint not to listen, but he still came back and picked up his plate. He rinsed it off in the sink and went to head back to the hallway. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Flint took a loud breath and turned again, picking up their father’s plate and rinsing it off just like Alex had done every night they had dinner together since his brothers moved out and he didn’t have anyone to share the duty with. It was a respect thing, his dad insisted.

However, as much as he loved his brother, watching Flint wash his father’s plate forced Alex to realize just how much his brother was still under their father’s thumb.

Alex couldn’t make himself eat anymore and, thankfully, it wasn’t a night where he was going to be forced to sit at the table the whole night. He pretty quickly finished up and made it back to his room where he immediately pulled out his phone. He hadn’t been able to talk to Michael all day‒it was torture.

Alex: i miss you :(

He tugged his pillow under his head and watched his phone, waiting for a response. However, as the time ticked by, he never did. Which was extremely out of character. He clearly hadn’t been feeling well yesterday, so maybe he’d been sleeping. But he hadn’t texted him all day…

Maybe Alex was being clingy. Liz and Maria were both so sure that he was moving too fast, so maybe he was. They were allowed to go a day without speaking to each other. Even if they hadn’t since they began hooking up… Well, that didn’t matter.

He waited and he waited until he got tired of waiting. He clearly wasn’t going to get a response.

And that was… fine.

-

Michael kept falling asleep.

He didn’t know how the hell he was even managing it when he was so stressed. He should be unable to do anything but stay awake and worry, but it seemed he just kept passing out. He wasn’t entirely sure Sanders wasn’t drugging him to make sure he slept it off.

Still, it felt good to be somewhat rested by the time Isobel came knocking. He didn’t even get the chance to sit up and properly greet her before he was climbing into his bed. She didn’t speak or scold or question him like he expected. Instead, she crawled beneath the covers and pulled them over both of their heads. He felt young again.

“I wasn’t just paranoid when I thought someone was watching me, was I?” Isobel asked in the safety of his blanket. Michael shook his head slowly and let the two of them sit in silence for a long stretch of time.

Michael didn’t really know what to say to her. He wasn’t going to say it had anything to do with Alex, that simply wasn’t an option. Isobel would blame him and Michael was pretty sure Alex had no idea. Eff seemed convinced that Alex had no idea and wanted to keep it that way.

“You shouldn’t be around me,” Michael said, “For your own safety.”

“What about your safety?”

“Not important.”

“Shut up,” Isobel said, scooting closer. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and tugged his face into the crook of her neck. She was nothing but protective as she cradled him close, shielding him away from the world.

It’d been too long since he’d spent time with her, too long since he’d had his sister. Was a guy really worth all of this? Because he shouldn’t be. No one should be worth all of this. It should be easy to cut Alex off, to go back to just handling Eff and dealing with life. So why was it such an impossible thing to grasp?

“I need your help,” Michael murmured into the soft fabric of her shirt.

“What is it?”

“I need you to keep me from talking to Alex,” he said. Isobel froze for a moment. “It’s to keep him safe. I just… need reinforcements.”

“Okay, I can do that,” Isobel insisted. She held him still as she reached over to grab his phone. She fiddled around on it for a moment and he was pretty sure she blocked his number.

He should really talk to Alex to his face and tell him they couldn’t be together, that would be the right thing to do. But, really, was anything about this right? It didn’t feel like it. It was unfair and cruel and miserable, but he did this to himself. Michael had been reckless and this was his punishment.

Besides, he had Isobel and he had Sanders. He had no room to complain.

“Can I help with anything else?” Isobel asked cautiously. Michael shook his head, taking a deep breath.

“Just, when I go back to school, make sure I don’t do anything stupid,” Michael requested.

“God, Michael, I didn’t say give me a hard job,” she said, teasing to lighten the situation. He smiled and, though it didn’t last long, it was still welcome. “I’ve got you, don’t worry. I’ll do what I can.”

“Thank you.”

“Always.”

-

Walking into school was hellish.

Michael kept his head down and stayed close to Max and Isobel. Any time he was near Alex, he avoided him. In times when Max and Isobel weren’t around, he chose to stick by his teammates who welcomed him into the group without a thought. He just couldn’t be around Alex. He would cave and that would do no one any good.

But whatever Eff had put in him was now gone and he felt somewhat normal. Or, at least, not like he was a ticking time bomb. So that was good. It also helped that Eff hadn’t shown up to take him to the shed. That part, however, made him more paranoid than anything.

He was able to ignore Alex for a few days, but he should’ve known that that time was limited. This was Alex Manes he was dealing with‒he wasn’t stupid and he wasn’t oblivious either.

He showed up in his Calc class, his normal bored expression on his face. He never showed just anyone that pretty smile. That was sacred and special.

“Michael,” his teacher called, “Mrs. Doyle needs you, take your things.”

And Michael couldn’t exactly say no, could he? With a stifled sigh, Michael grabbed his bag and followed Alex out of the classroom. This was bound to happen anyway. They needed to talk.

Alex didn’t spare him a look over his shoulder as he led them to their spot. They hadn’t really hooked up in there lately, finding themselves much more reliably in Michael’s bed instead. But here they were, back in the dimly lit, abandoned office. And Alex didn’t show him his pretty smile which was probably a good thing.

“You blocked my number,” Alex said, not even bothering to beat around the bush. Michael’s eyes stayed on the ground. “What the fuck? Can’t even say you don’t want me to my face? You have to block me?”

“That’s not…”

“What? That’s not what? That’s what happened. And, look, feel free to fill in the blanks on what I did that pushed you away so fast. I mean, seriously? How do you go from building me a fucking car to blocking me in two days? What kind of bullshit is that?” Alex demanded. Michael closed his eyes and fiddled with the hem of his shirt. Okay, so maybe he should’ve prepared for this conversation more.

“I just… Need space,” Michael said slowly.

“See, that’s what I thought too, at first. Oh, he just needs fucking space, cool, fun, fine,” Alex said, “But then I was like, no, my boyfriend wouldn’t do that without telling me. Then you blocked me. That-that’s not asking for space, that’s cutting me the fuck off.”

“Isobel did it.”

“Okay, and? You didn’t undo it or stop her,” Alex accused. He stopped sounding like he was going to rip Michael’s head off. He had about two seconds to think it was a good thing before he realized Alex had switched over to sounding like he was about to cry.

It was significantly worse.

“What did I do?” Alex asked. His voice didn’t crack, but it wasn’t exactly comforting. “You won’t even look at me. I hate to sound clingy, but, fuck, Guerin, you’re being a dick to me. I get it if you don’t wanna be with me, but have the balls to say it to my face.”

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? He couldn’t say that. It was so remarkably untrue.

Michael reluctantly forced himself to look up at Alex and he took in the sad expression he wore so plainly. It was honest and raw and it hurt. 

“I want to be with you,” Michael said‒because he was so, so stupid. Alex, thankfully, didn’t lighten up.

“Then why are you being so mean to me? I thought…” Alex trailed off, looking at him and then the wall, “Did Flint say something to you? Because this changed after  you met him.”

“No,” Michael said firmly, “I’ve just… I’ve been training and stressed and, and I won’t get scouted if I’m out. I thought it would be easier if I just…”

“If you just treated me like I’m garbage and won’t even have a conversation with me?” Alex said. Michael closed his eyes and tilted his head back. “Fuck you.”

“I deserve that.”

“Why would you build me a car and meet me brother? Why would you do half the shit you’ve done if you had no intention of being with me for longer than a few months?” Alex demanded. Michael swallowed and laughed softly. Where was Isobel when he needed her to whisk him away?

“Because I didn’t know that this would be an issue. I didn’t know being with you put so many people at risk,” Michael admitted. It was probably too truthful‒he was making it sound like it was more serious than football. Because it was.

But maybe he could convince Alex that he was extremely shallow.

Part of him wished he could simply be honest. If he was around Alex, Flint would find out and he would be completely and utterly fucked. But Alex loved his brother. He was a lot of things, but mean enough to use Alex as a weapon wasn’t one of them. He would just have to push Alex away himself.

“Then talk to me! Be my boyfriend!” Alex snapped, “Don’t just fucking ghost me! We didn’t need to go public. I didn’t want to in the first place and we barely have anyway. I was perfectly content doing nothing but being with you privately.”

Michael kept his eyes on the ceiling. He needed to be rude. He needed Alex to not want him anymore. Hate me. Call me an asshole. Break up with me. You’re better than me, say it.

“You should’ve talked to me,” Alex said.

“Okay.”

Alex was quiet for what really felt like an hour, but was more likely just the worst 30 seconds of Michael’s life. This truly wasn’t fair. In a perfect world, he would get to be miserable and have Alex hold him and make him feel better about this whole shitty situation. They could take a nap together and Alex could shield him from all the bad in the world. Or, actually, in a perfect world he wouldn’t be miserable at all.

“Be nice to me,” Alex demanded. It was in the same tone of voice that he used when he said ‘touch me’, like he was telling Michael to do something that he knew Michael already wanted to do. It almost had him laughing. “I know you. I know you’re not an asshole. That guy who built me a car and let me paint his nails and dreams about being close to me just to keep himself calm is who you are. You’re… You’re not this.”

“And what if I am? What if I’m just really good at pretending to be charming?” Michael asked.

Alex kicked his shin. Not hard enough to hard, but enough to make him look at him in the eyes.

“Be nice to me,” Alex repeated, “Unblock me and be nice to me. If that means breaking up with me to my face, then do it. If it means apologizing to me and working your ass off to make it up to me, then do it.”

The thing about Alex Manes was that his eyes were insane. In a good way, of course, but they were impossible to lie to and impossible to deny. He knew he needed to reject him, that was the safe way to do things. That’s what would keep him and the people he loved safe.

But he wanted Alex.

He wanted slow kisses and warm cuddles. He wanted flirty texts and a place to nap. Alex was everything he wanted and everything he couldn’t have. But, maybe if he was careful…

“We can’t be seen together,” Michael said. Alex shrugged.

“Okay.”

“You deserve someone you can be seen with.”

“Why are you telling me what I deserve? You think I can’t make my own decisions?” Alex asked. Michael sniffled and looked around the room, trying to find the courage to deny him. He needed to. It was the right thing to do. 

“We’re going to get hurt,” Michael said. I’ll probably die, he didn’t say. Maybe if Flint was feeling nice he would leave Isobel and Max and Sanders alone. Maybe he could beg. He wasn’t above begging. 

“I want to be with you,” Alex said like it was easy, “I’m not afraid of saying it to your face, I don’t care if you think I’m clingy. Either say you don’t want me or act like you fucking do. I’m not here for this passive aggressive shit.”

“You’re a hard man to lie to, Alex Manes,” Michael said softly, shaking his head as he took a step forward. Alex scoffed.

“Then don’t lie.”

Michael took a deep breath and knelt on the ground. Alex didn’t ask what he was doing, simply let him move in close and rest his face against his stomach. Arms went around him and held him there. And, god, it was stupid.

But he felt safe for the first time in days.

-

“Alex, are you okay?”

“What?”

“You haven’t spoken about Michael in days.”

Alex rolled his eyes and threw a fry at Maria who dodged it with a laugh. For the days that Michael had been vehemently ignoring him, Alex had kept his mouth shut. Liz and Maria had both made it pretty clear they didn’t really approve of them moving so fast, so he kept it to himself when it seemed they were right.

And, well, now that they were going back to keeping it silent, he didn’t know exactly what to say. He really didn’t want to prove them right. But he liked Michael and there was clearly something going on that he wasn’t saying. He could pull the football card all he wanted, but that wasn’t what was actually going on.

Alex didn’t plan on letting him go that easily when he was hiding something that was fucking him up so badly. He’d eventually get him to speak. When he did, he wanted Michael to know that Alex wasn't going anywhere.

“We’re being lowkey,” Alex decided to say. Both girls shared a look that made him want to bash his face into a wall.

“Lowkey?” Liz asked. Alex shrugged, dipping his fry into his shake. 

He felt a little bit better about the whole situation after Michael climbed into his bedroom window the night before. Any question on whether he should actually break up with him or not vanished. Michael was shaky and had lost weight, new scars dawning his skin from the last time Alex had touched him. Something was going on. He wasn’t going to let them convince him to change his mind.

“Shit came up, we’re being lowkey.”

“Alex…”

“Nope, not letting you talk me out of it,” Alex insisted, “I don’t want to hear it. If I wanted to, I would bring him up.”

They went through their whole routine anyway. “We don’t want you to get hurt” and “we just care about you” all of which were totally valid, but they didn’t have the full story. They weren’t understanding that something was wrong and he couldn’t tell them because he didn’t know what it was yet. He wasn’t going to just abandon him. Michael had known nothing but abandonment for most of his life and he wasn’t about to be another person on the list.

“It sounds toxic, Alex,” Liz said, “Especially if he’s suddenly trying to force you back into the closet.”

“He’s not forcing me to do anything, it was a mutual agreement. We want to be more lowkey, we liked it better that way,” Alex insisted. It wasn’t even a lie. He preferred being quiet. It was nicer.

And it made it easier for him to scope out what the fuck was going on.

“If you say so…” Maria said. 

“I do.”

They lapsed into silence and Alex couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. They were just trying to watch out for him and he was pushing them away. He really just had to stick it out until he was able to help Michael with whatever was fucking with him.

And, more importantly, he just had to hope it was worth it.

[wordsiwishispoke]

it’s a long story

i don’t expect anyone to read this but i have some things i need to say. i’m not posting this for sympathy i just need to tell my story even if no one is here to listen.

tw // rape, drugs, alcohol, depression, eating disorders, self harm

i have grown up quite a bit since i made this account, i am no longer the 13 year old girl who thought life couldn’t get worse, i am almost 21 and i know now that it can always get worse and hopefully one day it will get better but today is not that day.

i grew up privileged i won’t deny that, i always had a roof over my head, food on the table, and money for new clothes and whatever else i wanted but life has still not been kind and i’m sure many people can relate.

i am scarred and bruised.

i was young when i learned life was a disappointing mess, my mom decided i was fat in 2nd grade and put me on my first diet, in fourth grade she took me to every nutritionist she could find and forced me to start a food journal. she jumped me from one diet to another, from gluten free to keto to only drinking protein shakes for weeks on end to weight watchers meals. she compared me to all my friends, clothing was always “unflattering” to my figure or didn’t help me look “slim” i was never the skinny friend, i was never the pretty girl.

i remember the first trip to the nutritionist when she had me get on the scale, i was terrified of the number. i was only 10 and i made every excuse for the number, my hair was wet, my clothes were heavy, my bracelet was heavier than it looked, whatever else i could say to explain why the number was what it was. i wasn’t even fat just terrified everyone would think i was. not only was the doctor staring at me, i felt surrounded, my mom was there, my dad was there, the nurse was there too and i just remember the feeling of the number defining me.

my dad got a job in another city and life was never the same and neither was our relationship, he missed me growing up, he wasn’t there for me. i felt so alone.

in middle school i started pulling out my eyelashes and instead of caring about me she shamed me and told everyone. there. was a point when she bought me mascara to remind me of how pretty i could be with eyelashes. she would yell at me saying it was embarrassing for her, i don’t remember exactly when i stopped but she hasn’t mentioned it since.

i turned to the internet for any acceptance i could get, sending old men pictures of me before i was even a teenager, “dating” anyone online who even give me the time of day. i turned to fandom culture and was groomed by countless 18+ fans who i’d have to talk out of suicide every other night feeling like their lives were something i was responsible for. i thought this is what adults do but i was just a compliant victim letting these adults use me as their therapist and sexting them before i’d even had my first kiss. 

all through high school i starved myself and stayed up till 2am doing any Pinterest workout i could find trying to reach a bullshit standard i had for myself only to gain more weight and feel even worse about my body, every day i still battle with food. 

i carved into my skin with anything sharp i could find just to feel something even if it was pain but nothing helped. 

i used to pray that i would get kidnapped just so someone would starve me till i was nothing more than skin and bones. i would hope for any illness that would take the fat off my body. 

in college i was raped, i was drugged, i was betrayed by my closest friends, i was taken for granted by someone who i thought was my best friend, i was bullied for my body, and i struggle with my sexuality. i was told by police that i couldn’t possibly be drugged and i sat there unable to move as they tried to handcuff me for underage drinking luckily my dorm RA stepped in and they gave me a warning but it wasn’t before the police could call my mother and tell her that her 17 year old daughter was drunk. she told all her friends and family.

and i haven’t even fucking graduated yet

i thought no one would ever notice me enough to want to have sex with me so i put myself in these situations like i was begging for someone to hurt me, and someone listened, he stole my innocence and he left me bleeding and alone. he watched me cry as he yelled at me to finish him. i mean what is a 17 year old girl to do when she thinks she’s getting what she deserves. i did it to myself really, i decided that life wasn’t worth anything unless a man deemed me worthy of sex. even when i begged him to stop and pleaded for him to listen and he didn’t, i knew i deserved it. 

i had been craving someone to want me and he did.

i was so glad that i wasn’t a “virgin” anymore that i ignored the complete disgust i felt, i ignored what he did to me, what he took from me. i explained it away and never told a soul.

things have only gotten worse with my father, he’s never said he’s proud of me, he calls me stupid and refuses to listen to a word i say. i hope one day i am more than the little girl he left to alone 5 days out of the week because work was just more important. i hope he feels bad for missing my sports games and parent teacher nights. “but i’m always there for the important things” but there were more important things than just graduation and weekends. i had choir showcases, theater performances, dance competitions, nationals, science fairs, spelling bees, and so much more that he never showed up to.

for better or worse my mother was always there, every scrape, every tear (even the ones she caused), every performance, and parent teacher night. 

for the first time in years i took a blade to my skin tonight and i watched as the blood came through my skin, i just feel like i’m in this endless loop of emptiness and i’m unable to feel anything.

i feel like most of my life has been a cry for help that no one can hear.

i have never known love and sometimes i don’t think i ever will maybe it’s just not in the cards for me. i fear that i don’t know how to love, i think i’ll never find someone who i can feel comfortable with enough to love. 

i bury myself in fiction and obsess over fictional characters and famous people. who will never know i exist because there no commitment there, i’ll never actually have intimate moments with them or expect them to care when i need help.

i traded blowing bubbles for smoking cigarettes, i traded lines of chalk on the cement for lines of cocaine, i traded my innocence for something i can never get back.

friday nights turned from dinners with my mom to drowning my problems with alcohol and listening to loud music i couldn’t be bothered to learn the words to.

i used to be so bright and warm but i can feel the light slipping and the cold taking over.

I am filled with these unanswered questions and unsaid thoughts, never did i think i would be here.

i guess my story is no different than thousands of others, i am not special, i am not an exception, but i am me and even when i wish i wasn’t i cannot change my past i can only try to overcome it.

maybe someone reading this can relate and feel just a little less alone or maybe no one will read this but i hope that everyone knows that their story doesn’t define them and i’m tired of letting mine define me.

[hobiwonder]

crazy rich asians | 01

Genre: Chaebol!BTS. maid!reader. Smut, fluff. mild angst.

Pairing: Jin x reader, Jimin x reader, Hoseok x reader, Yoongi x reader. Possible future pairings.

Warnings for this chapter: language. brief mention of oral sex. Kissing !!!

Words: 9k+

Summary: You overhear something you shouldn’t. Now some of the country’s most powerful - and rich - men would do anything to keep you quiet.

a/n: i turned it into a fic as requested!!! ngl…. am worried how people will receive this lol. This will be a short series. no major angst so don’t worry. i hope you guys like it bc i really enjoyed writing it. please let me know what you think n feed my motivation bubble so i dont take months to finish this ajdubejekbfjk.

This was odd. Jin’s eyebrows furrowed – which he was strongly against since premature wrinkles were one of his biggest fears. He was closer to thirty than twenty so his concerns were valid. Jimin almost never visited his childhood home ever since their father got engaged to the secretary – another cliché – a few months ago.

“Hm… what changed your mind little brother.” Jin mutters as he passes the sleek Mercedes that belongs to his younger brother. Nevertheless, he can’t help the sly smirk that fights his muscles and spreads across his porcelain skin. He couldn’t wait to rub it in Jimin’s face that he finally returned when his bank account dried out. Most likely.

The plethora of house staff greeting Jin as he walked along the indoor fountain, trying to acknowledge most of them. They had too many servants and it wasn’t Jin’s fault that he didn’t care about most of them. But it was hard when they all looked so sheepish like they had some wretched secret they were supposed to hide but failed.

“Good Afternoon Sir, what brings you here?” Jin’s long legs are no match for the shorter man who usually took care of everything in the manor so he’s a little breathless as he Jogs besides him.

“To my own house? Where I lived for 20 years?” This really was becoming a strange day.

“A-Ah no sir. I meant no disrespect just wanted to be prepared to accommodate you accordingly.”

“Okay,” This was officially starting to annoy him and the furrow in his forehead was getting deeper. He would not get wrinkles because his servant annoyed him in to it. “Alfred… Anders… Andrew. Whatever your name is, I don’t need to announce my arrival at my own home. On second thought, maybe I should.”

The idea is very appealing as he swirls the thought in his head and it’s enough to make him forget the butler’s calls as he enters Jimin’s private wing. He isn’t surprised though when he already hears faint moans but not of a woman for once. It’s undoubtedly Jimin which is again – peculiar because getting off himself wasn’t something Jimin liked to do if he had ‘several other women ready to do it for me’ if quoting him directly. He guesses there is only one way to find out as he approaches the living area, looking at the back of his head resting on the enormous lounge sofa.

“Well hello there brother!” His tongue doesn’t form anymore words when he can finally see Jimin in his line of view – and his father’s fiancé frantically buttoning her blouse to retain some of her dignity. Jimin on the other hand is taking his sweet time tucking himself inside his slacks – shaking his head in disbelief as if Jin’s caused him immense grief.

“…and Amber.” Jin is no stranger to walking in on his brother – or friends really – indulging in all sorts of debauchery but this – this was quite interesting and to put it simply, messy. “Well, well, well. Did you come back to sleep with our step-mother or actually missed your family, god forbid?”

Jimin is no more rattled than a sloth as he runs his hands through his silky golden hair and smacks Amber’s ass as she’s still fiddling with her blouse. “A bit of both.”

“I-I didn’t know you’d b-be back so quick Jin-ah.” Her pearly white teeth that his father paid way too much for are almost blinding him. Yeah he’s not that bored today to play along with her games so he opts for just a dry smile. This was no surprise to him. Especially when the first person she had a fling with in this household was, well, Jin himself.

“Clearly. Thankfully you know father won’t be home until late. Run along now. I’ve got to catch up with your son.” Okay, that one’s on him. He liked to rub it in her face.

“Step-son.” She’s positively seething and Jin couldn’t be more delighted.

“Ooh. Naughty aren’t you? I knew you were always in a bit of incest.”

Jimin’s snort and Amber’s scoff come at the same time but at least it makes her on her way, heels clicking as she’s strutting away.

“I gave the staff one job and they couldn’t even do that.” Jimin walks towards the liquor cabinet, pouring himself a whiskey at 12 in the afternoon – bringing a smile to his face. He did miss his little brother.

“To keep me from finding Amber swallowing your unborn children?

“Thank fuck for that. I’m not ever going to be ready for kids.”

“Understandable. Considering you are one.” Jin’s shit eating grin makes Jimin pour another glass which he drowns in a second too.

“Please tell me how many ‘kids’ you know who’re worth half a billion dollars?”

Not a trick question.

“Almost all of our friends? Plus, we’re brothers you maggot. And I’m worth more.” His stance widens as he splays his feet out in some sort of power pose.

“What now? You want us sword fighting?” Jimin’s glancing to his crotch before he continues, “I’ll win because somebody didn’t let me finish.” Yes, very evident from the hard tent in his slacks.

“No need to resort to unsanitary methods. Talking will do.” He’s waving his hand in dismissal, watching Jimin taking a seat opposite – absolutely no attempts at hiding his boner. “So, what brings you back? Thought you were up in the Bahamas getting tanned and toned and weren’t due back for a few more weeks?”

“Correct but that was until father announced his surprise engagement.” Jimin is on his third glass of whiskey but looks more sober than a priest.

“Is there anything he does these days that isn’t a surprise? I found out I was moving houses from the real estate agent for god’s sake.” That makes Jimin snort out a laugh.

“Christ. He’s a bastard isn’t he?” Jimin had been in boarding school still when Jin had been effectively moved out of the manor in to a skyscraper penthouse because his father had wanted to ‘relax by himself and no kids’. As if he raised them on his own.

“Yup. Turns out he just needed the house to be snitch-free to fuck his secretary/future step-mom.” Plus he was still going through the divorce with their mother.

“I can understand why.” Jimin’s closing his eyes, heading leaning back again as a sultry smile spreads on his youthful face as if he’s reminiscing an irreplaceable memory. “Amber can make you forget you own name.”

“Right?” Jin is letting his inner, less sophisticated horny teenager alter ego slip through as he agrees with his brother about what a good lay their step-mom is.

“You already tap that?” When Jin just winks in Jimin’s direction, he’s clapping and chuckling like he can’t believe it.

“You’re no better than me brother and please, don’t take that as an insult. No offense at all.”

“None taken.” For a moment Jimin truly feels slightly happier. Looking at his brother and remembering sitting across from him while they talked about everything when they were younger and thought they had a chance at becoming people different than their father or their whole family. He had everything. They both had everything. There wasn’t one thing that either of them lacked or desired. So needless to say, their lives were a little grey and lacked excitement. Money though. That never failed to give him a hard-on.

Seeing his brother also made him happy, sure.

“Remember when we were playing in father’s office that one time he left it unlocked?” Jimin continues when Jin nods slowly, “And remember when we were rummaging through the drawers we found a safe and tried to break into it before Anderson caught us?”

“I knew it! He looked like an Anders.” When Jimin just blankly stares at him he mutters an apology and tells him to continue.

“Anyway. I went back and broke in to the safe.”

“Of course you did,” Jin is rolling his eyes but not finding it surprising that his little brother, ever the inquisitive little cat, went back to do exactly what he was told to notdo.

“No, listen,” Jimin’s eyes are increasingly growing frantic as he shifts forward, abandoning his glass of whiskey and Jin knew that this was something juicy. “There were papers inside the safe. Granddad’s will. I made copies.”

“Wait, you told me there was a bunch of cocaine and ecstasy. Nothing else.” Jimin shrugs once again to ask what was his point.

“And?”

“And you stole the papers but not the drugs? My teenage self hates you so much right now.”

“And that poor bastard should be thankful I looked in to the papers otherwise you would become penniless. Very soon.”

What was Jimin trying to say. “Get to the point Jimin. What about Grandpa’s will?”

Jin��s palms were becoming sweaty and a little tick in his left leg had already started and was about to become a full blown restless leg syndrome like a pathetic little office worker worried about losing a promotion.

“Well,” Jimin is moving across the room to sit beside his older brother, turning his lithe body to the side facing him as he starts to explain. “Grandad’s will stated that we were to receive 10% of our inheritance every year starting at the age of 35. Unless father remarried.”

The mention of money always sped up Jin’s heartbeat. It raced in his chest like he was about to win the lottery. Maybe he was?

“What then… ?” Jimin’s Cheshire grin slowly lighting up his whole face was never a good sign. Until now apparently.

“If he remarried before we turned 35, we are to receive our inheritance. In full. At once.”

Jin really felt like his heart would beat out of his chest. Because that was a lot of money.

“That’s-”

“$10 billion.” There was a slight pause as Jimin eagerly awaited his brother’s reaction.

“I think I just had a powergasm.” Jimin is chuckling as he slaps Jin’s back, shaking his older brother out of joy as they both start to gradually laugh louder. Is this how supervillains felt? Jin’s never laughed like this before and it’s no surprise that it’s money that’s doing the trick. Poor people wouldn’t understand.

That’s when another realisation occurs. “That’s why he kicked me out of the house. Because he was going to get engaged and couldn’t risk us retaliating and finding this bit of information out.”

“Precisely big brother.”

“Fuck…. We’re going to be rich as fuck.”

“If he doesn’t figure out a way to get that clause crossed from the will.” Jimin seems a bit nervous for the first time since he had started talking.

But Jin wasn’t. Not when he had people on his side who would love to make some money as well. Well, more money. He wasn’t friends with poor people.

“Don’t worry about it. You still in contact with Taehyung?” Jimin looks at his older brother with a ‘duh’ face.

“You still have a dick?” Jin’s just rolling his eyes as he calls the first number under ‘Y’.

“What?”

“Hello to you too, Min. Say, you want to become rich?” Yoongi on the other end is snorting before he speaks with his signature lazy drawl.

“I’m already rich, you bitch. But I’m having a down day anyway. Tell me more.”

Jin is smirking towards his brother, his body is buzzing and this is the most excited he;s been a while.

“Meet at my place with the other boys. At 2. Lunch is on me.”

“Yes because I desperately need someone to shout me lunch.” He’s had enough of Yoongi’s sarcasm so he just hangs up.

“Well Jimin, lets go get our billions.” Jimin hands his older brother a glass of whiskey before they make a toast.

“Amen.” Jin furrows his brows again.

“You believe in god now?”

“After seeing Amber’s tits? Yeah.”

“Oh hello there. Eavesdropping were we?” A man is leaning against the wall behind you, hands in his pockets while he looks at you head to toe, two small dimples appearing when he grins rather…. cutely you might add.

“U-Uh, n-no?” The handsome stranger is only shaking his head as he walks towards the door where the two brothers had gone in to only half an hour ago.

“Be careful next time little maid.” You hold in the scoff until he disappears inside the room.

“You guys have better discussed Amber’s ass and nothing else of importance because of the audience outside. The pretty little thing Anders hired.

“How does everyone know his name and not me? You don’t even live here Hoseok.” Jin’s scoffing while Jimin worries about the real problem.

“Fucking hell. The staff in this house is more loyal to our father than their own families. What do we do?”

“Leave that to me. Girls never kiss and tell when they’re with me.” with a wick, Hoseok is settling on the couch as well. “Just transfer me $50 million when you both get the money.”

Oh boy. Being rich was hard.

You were screwed. Or at least it looked like you were. Even though you'd been hired months ago - it was not usual to see the 'house Masters' (that's what Anders had called them anyway so you stuck with it). In fact you could count on one hand how many times you'd seen Kim Seokjin around the mansion. though he didn't live here so that wasn't too surprising at first but you did think that he would at least regularly visit his father. the numerous articles written about this family portrayed them as loyal as you can be to your own blood. What behind closed doors however, was a different story.

The eldest son rarely visited his father and his father, your employer, was even more of a rare sight around the Manor. In the three months you'd worked here, you'd seen Mr. Kim twice. And one of those times was when the annual Christmas dinner was hosted. But even for that, the youngest son, Jimin had not been present. So seeing the new face around the Manor today had confused you very much. But the way his perfectly sculpted features, luscious and shiny - oh god was it shiny - hair had told you that he belonged to this family. How close he was? You weren't sure. Until now.

Now that you'd been caught listening in to the scheming going behind the closed doors. He was the youngest son that was asked about a thousand times at the Christmas dinner and each time both, the father and the son, evaded the questions like experts. He was as handsome as the rest of the family so it didn't surprise you much when you found out his identity. Especially when the future house mistress had been lead in to the room by him, all smiles and charming demeanour. You'd naively thought that the step-mother and son - though she looked too good for her age as all rich people did - had quite a close relationship even though this was the first time you were seeing Master Jimin home. Until the moaning had sounded obnoxiously out in the hallway. Anders had tried his best to get to be anywhere other than cleaning the massive hallway that all the rooms connected to but in the end, you'd gravitated towards the noises. Knowing it was wrong for you to listen but not being able to help yourself. The young master's voice was so melodic, so serene, you were almost forgetting that the said noises weren't as innocent as the emotions they were evoking in you.

Your heart had sped up and your fingers had tugged down your uniform subconsciously at the erotic noises emitting from the room. Imagining yourself to be on the giving end of the scenario playing out in the room. But your fantasies had been broken when you'd hear Anders and Mr. Kim's older son's booming voice coming down the hallway. Quickly ducking back in to one of the rooms you were supposed to start dusting in, you'd only caught glimpse of the incredibly handsome Kim Seokjin reprimanding Anders for making him feel unwelcome in his own home. Though you felt for the poor old man. He was nice and looked after you more than you had expected. And the amount of work he had to see through was incredible and you were amazed at how he never failed to complete each and every one of his tasks. Except keeping Mr. Kim out of the young master's room that is. You'd heard the cheeky tone in Jimin's voice when he'd asked Anders to make sure that no one disturbs them. You'd thought stupidly that maybe they wanted to spend quality time with each other since Jimin was back home after a long time. And they spent quality time alright. The noises were a testament to that.

You were suddenly feeling the nervous butterflies in your stomach at the prospect of Jimin being found out by his older brother. And with his step mother no less. Like youwere the one doing something that scandalous. Craning your neck you'd tried to hear, maybe yelling? You'd assumed - wrongly, again - that the older master Kim would be horrified at finding out the debauchery going on inside the room but all you'd seen was a ruffled Amber - you think that's her name from the moans at least - and then joyous laughter which could only mean the brothers meeting. Rich people were bizarre. Did they not have any morals? Nothing settling uneasy in their conscience?

Not that you were any better because you were plainly eavesdropping and that was not how your mother raised you. Though she didn't raise you that much at all in all honesty. But she was quick to correct your mishaps or seemingly 'dishonest' activities. That was all she did really. Mostly your grandmother raised you until you were kicked out at the ripe age of 18 by your mother to 'find your own way' like her crack addicted self told you. She preached but never practiced her own self-righteous attitude more than when she needed to keep you under control. Though your visit down the memory lane is interrupted when your ears catch on to what the two men inside were talking about. The words 'cocaine' catch your attention - it was your mother's favourite at one point. Listening on further was just pure coincidence. But boy oh boy. What were you hearing? Were they going to possibly.... hurt someone for even more money? How much more could they want? They already had enough of it. You didn't realise the pout that had been on your face while you listened to the two brother calling a friend for some 'help'.

Not until someone was clearing their throat behind you, damn near making you knock your head against the wall you had been absentmindedly wiping for the hundredth time. Initially - for the millisecond of the reaction time you had available - you thought Anders would be the one to catch you and for some reason, you weren't as scared. Hence the sheepish smile on your face when you turn around to face whoever it was that had caught you so blatantly trying to listen to whatever was happening. Though your smile - as well as your heart - drops instantly when you see an unfamiliar face in front of you, yet again. And once again - the stranger is handsome, incredibly so. In fact, the toothy grin he's beaming your way is nearly blinding. His white teeth - definitely not natural, though you wouldn't be surprised if they were - smiling up at you as he leant against the wall besides you. How did you not hear him? His body was lithe and somehow you're not surprised that he snuck up on you so easily. Nonetheless, he did and you were in major trouble. He was good-looking enough for you to figure out that he probably belonged in the two master's circle.

“Oh hello there. Eavesdropping were we?” The man is leaning against the wall behind you, hands in his pockets while he looks at you head to toe, two small dimples appearing when he grins rather…. cutely you might add.

“U-Uh, n-no?” The handsome stranger is only shaking his head as he walks towards the door where the two brothers had gone in to only half an hour ago.

"No! Uh I mean. N-No... that's what I mean." You're hoping the desperation in your eyes gives him a hint that you rather not get in to trouble.

“Be careful next time little maid.” His smirk doesn't dissolve. In fact, it seems to get wider. Most likely being able to tell how hard you're trying to make it seem like you were doing the right thing. Definitely not eavesdropping. The handsome stranger is only shaking his head as he walks towards the door where the two brothers had gone in to only half an hour ago. Still watching you.

But alas, your mind malfunctions and the only thing you can think of is to get out of there. Too many good looking men you've seen to last you a decade. You're scurrying away back to the room you were originally supposed to be in and you can hear his chuckle even as you go further down the hallway to the room.

Slumping against the wall, your hand clutches just above where your heart should be. You were sofired. There was no way that whoever this was would not mention you lurking outside the room. Who was he anyway? Oh well, not that you would get to find out because you were stupidly caught eavesdropping. Eavesdropping! How cliché. It was impossible to focus on your work knowing that you will be in immense trouble. Pacing back and forth, rehearsing excuses and explanations to give Anders on why you were outside of your given area. And caught by a guest no less. From what you'd gathered about the older Kim son - he couldn't care less about your presence in the house.

One time he'd come in the living area, stayed for over two hours without acknowledging that you were even in the room. In fact, when Anders had called out to you to return to lend a hand at the kitchen is when he'd looked up at you as if it was the first time he was hearing a name that wasn't his own. Even then, he'd only looked at you for a mere few seconds before going back to the book he'd been reading.

But the newcomer - or old you guess, you'd only just started working after all - you weren't sure how he'd react to finding out your roaming outside his room. Surely, he would be just as aloof and uncaring of a mere maid as you, right? Maybe not if the handsome stranger told him about how well you'd been listening to the conversation inside. Oh lord. This was the only job that paid enough for you to send home and also keep a roof over your head. What were you going to do? You minded your own business but the one day curiosity got you was when you've been caught. Just your luck. Your mother was right. Your curiosity will be your end. And seems like it will be now as well judging from the sound of the doors opening from the young master's suite and several pairs of footsteps coming towards the room you were in.

Your limbs moving like lightning, making sure each and every one of the vases was picked up and dusted through thoroughly - it's obvious you're trying to look as occupied as possible. A few seconds later, the footsteps stop right outside the room you're in and your heart might as well have stopped pumping blood through your body as well with the way your temperature drops from the impending doom. Had they told on you already? Was Anders also outside the door? If he was alone you could've tried to weasel your way out of such a mishap but you doubt the you could even let out a squeak between the three intimidating men.

To your demise, when the men enter the room - Anders is nowhere to be found. The two brothers and the third stranger who had caught you stand in the doorway looking all too.... nerve-racking (for you). Instantly you know that theyknow how nervous you are. Nervous of losing the only source of income that was enough to sustain you. The older of the two brothers is looking at you up and down, slowly and calculating. Like it's the first time he's seeing you. Someone like you at least. Some who wasn't at the same calibre as he. Even his gaze makes you feel poor. Inferior.

Thought it doesn't seem to be intentional. He was inspecting you like you were an enigma when in reality he was the one clad in all sorts of bling you were sure you would only see in the movies. Being so focused and aware of Seokjin, you'd almost forgotten about the two other men in the room. While the stranger leant against the wall like he had earlier, Jimin had taken a seat on the large sofa a few meters away from you. Crossing his, muscular you might add, thighs. Getting comfortable with one of his arms splayed on the back of the cushions while the other rested on the hand rest - completely at ease. The exact opposite of you. While Seokjin was all curious eyes, Jimin seemed to be looking at you with sly eyes, blatantly checking out your frumpy uniform and the duster in your hand. The smirk you'd seen in the morning still ever present on his face.

Never having been in a room with an attractive man such as Seokjin himself - let alone three - you're about ready to faint.

"Are you boys going to start or shall I?" The stranger spoke first. Voice breezy like they were about to have a conversation about the weather with you.

your eyes must still be opened wide when Jimin speaks up. "Relax Hoseok hyung, let the girl breathe first. You okay sweetheart?"

His saccharine sweet tone instantly soothes some of the nerves and the smile he sends your way, the wrinkles appearing around his round eyes making you feel all warm inside.

"U-Uh, wh-what? Oh I-I'm-" The elder cuts you off however. Seemingly not being able for you to finish up your stuttering. Hm, he definitely wasn't as nice as the other two.

"Anyway, what were you doing outside master Jimin's wing, little one?" The nickname makes your face redder than it was, feeling your blood rush in your head suddenly. Never did you think that the sons of your employer would actually refer to themselves as 'master'. You definitely guessed wrong. At least Jimin hadn't. You reallydid like him better even if he was about to fire you.

And guess what you do next? Sabotage yourself even further of course. Your mouth has no filter when you're nervous because the words come stumbling out before you can stop yourself.

"I heard your plan to get money from your dad!" The words almost sound like a really long, poorly pronounced word. A breath leaves you in a rush like you' been holding it in for a while after your word vomit. "Or w-well I guess.... m-more money."

The last words are whispered almost to yourself but the way the men are now widening their eyes at you - you know they heard every word.

"Excuse me?" The handsome stranger - Hoseok, now you know - fills the defining silence with the most endearing laughter you've heard in your small life-time just as Seokjin's incredulous tone has you shrinking back in to yourself.

"And what do you suppose... you will do with that information, hm?" Jimin slowly gets up from his place on the couch, straitening his dress pants. The Cheshire smirk still upturning the corners of his mouth as he stalks towards you. Slow, with purpose, to undoubtedly make you more nervous than you were feeling surrounded by him and his older brother standing adjacent to you.

"I-I... I won't say a-anything." You're taking a deep breath before you say the next words - gathering all the courage that you were able to. About to do something you never dreamed you would have to. "If you don't f-fire me."

Even though you are outright blackmailing these chaebol brothers and with a witness present, you can't help the frown creasing your forehead at your unethical actions. Who were you blackmailing people that can probably have your existence removed from this earth?! They certainly had enough money for it.

"And if we do fire you, little one?" The screech that leaves your throat at the unexpected closeness of Seokjin as he leans his head down. Close enough that you instinctively take a step back as his deep coal orbs bore in to yours - challenging you to respond.

"I-I-I um," you gulp, looking anywhere but his intense eyes that won't let you breathe. "I'll tell y-your father!"

Your reply is defiant but nowhere near as threatening as you'd wanted it to be. In all honesty, you just want to keep your job. Seokjin's eyebrows shoot upwards at your feigned bravery and the bold claim. How would you even get in touch with his father?

You'd only ever seen him from a distance in person. Here's to hoping they don't call you on your bluff.

"Oh will you now?" His head tilts almost menacingly, still staring right down at you. The arms that come around to wrap themselves around you are purely in instinct. You were out of your depth here and desperately hoping they'd forget about this and ignore you. You were a mere house staff and a very lowly one at that.

Surely they won't fall to your words. This was stupid and you were doomed. You're about ready to apologies when Jimin speaks making your head snap towards him.

"Calm down, brother." His smile is then directed at you. "What's your name darling?"

"Y-Y/n." Your brain was on auto-pilot and you just wanted to be out of trouble.

"Well, y/n, don't worry." Jimin is close enough that you can smell his cologne. It smells heavenly and you almost want to sniff as much as you can to take in the smell while it's there. "Our mouths are barred," head leaning down just as Seokjin had been earlier, "as long as yours is."

Jimin was smooth. Slick and smooth with his hypnotic eyes, euphonious voice and tranquil words making sure you were listening. Comprehending every word. You're nodding along with him - actions a little quivery. Until another thought pops up in your head.

"W-What if h-he dobs me in?" Your head gestures towards Hoseok's animatedly in your nervous state. Completely missing the chuckle that sounds from the accused.

Jimin is biting his bottom lip, holding himself back from flat out laughing in your face probably.

"Don't you worry, sweetheart. We're all bounded in this contract. Deal?" He's nodding at you, prompting you to nod your understanding as well.

Seokjin is still scrutinising you, stepping back now that Jimin had taken over. You glance in Jimin's eyes before nodding once again - much more firmly.

"Excellent. Shall we seal this deal?" He looks around to Hoseok who just gestures with his hand 'as you wish' with a grin similar to Jimin's. It's like they're all communicating in some symbolic language that goes above your head. Seokjin doesn't respond but now stand besides Jimin.

When Jimin is looking back at you, a singular eyebrow raised - you nod as well. "O-Okay."

Hastily, you're wiping your clammy hands on your uniform to bring it forward and shake his hand. That's what he meant right?

The golden haired boy only smirks at your outstretched hand as his gaze falls back to your reluctant face. Your nerves are settling slightly when his arm is making its way to you as well - thanking god above that this was going to be over soon.

Until the said hands bypasses yours waiting to shake his and settles on the wall beside your head and your own eyes watch its descent. Before you can ask any questions or even make sense of what's happening, your head is tilted backwards slightly when a pair of voluptuous lips take their residence on your own. The noise of surprise leaving the back of your throat is the only other heard in the otherwise quiet room. Your hand instinctively going to grab at the arms caging you between them.

Jimin's kiss is all consuming, his lips gently sucking yours in the most unwavering embrace. Embrace is a bit of a stretch. While one hand had squashed any hopes of your escape, the other made it impossible as it held on to your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb as his tongue swiped over your lips. A whimper leaves your mouth when he does so and only a few seconds later, Jimin is pulling away with a wet 'pop' of his lips. His petal soft ones are moist and gently coloured with a natural deep pink.

You're barely breathing, eyes half closed when Hoseok has stepped besides the smirking Jimin.

"What a-"

"We're sealing it with a kiss, Darling. All of us." You felt like you were going to faint. Kissing one of them was this taxing - in the best way with the way the butterflies were going haywire in your tummy - how were you going to kiss all threeof them?

"I- Okay." You sound defeated and overwhelmed but ready to have someone fill the void that was left when Jimin stopped kissing you.

Hoseok has taken Jimin's place, swiftly pushing his head closer to yours, nuzzling your nose with his - an oddly intimate act - before his soft lips push against yours. Your arms have found their way to the top of his chest purely on instinct once more. Needing to hold on to something so your weak knees don't give out beneath you.

His kiss is more delicate than Jimin's. Much softer. Until he pulls back for the first time of course. Only to crash his mouth on to yours with a ferocity you were not expecting. Your hands are itching to tug on the silky strands of his hair but you resist. You're not sure if you should even kiss him back. What were you doing? Kissing strangers. It was a little too late to think about that anyway because there was no plausible reason you could think of at the moment to stopkissing him back.

"That's enough hyung. Let her breathe." Jimin's impish chuckle sounds from the room somewhere just as Hoseok's touch gets dangerously close to the curvature of your breasts.

He breaks away with a dramatic 'chu' as his lips part from yours. Sparkling from how shiny they were from your combined saliva. Jimin was right. You really needed to breathe before you fainted - especially with the way your knees wobbled, trying your best to rest against the wall behind you. Hoseok's eyes are still staring raptly at you, the knowing smirk still ever present. It briefly slips down to your heaving chest and even though the uniform was virtually shapeless - you felt almost naked under his scrutiny.

Evidently, your cheeks are reddening even further as he steps back, your heart skipping several beats and blood pressure spiking shortly after when you realise who was next - Kim Seokjin. Somehow, you'd expected the state of subtle arousal to dissipate to a certain degree. The substantial dislike you'd acquired for his tone whenever addressing you had been pushed to the side as he took his place in front of you. Your eyes lock, heart stopingly striking features making you breathless once again.

He, undoubtedly, intimidated you the most out of all of them. Eyes flicking back and forth between the other men and Seokjin, you're trying not to get nervous with each second that passes. Hoseok had not waited long enough to let the panic rise from deep down and you were thankful for that. Because nervous you was not appropriate. Not at all. But then again nothing about kissing your boss's sons and their friends was appropriate. You were way past that point. He places his hand besides your head, just as the other two had done. Bracing your hands behind you on the wall, you're ready for him to steal your breath away.

What you weren't expecting was the gentle press of lips against your cheek. A surprised gasp leaves past your - very lonely - lips. Trying to hide the disappointment that's trying to claw its way on to your face, you stay very still like moving even just an inch might be catastrophic for you. Just as soon as he kissed you, he's pulling away. You hadn't noticed his other hand that had been just shy of holding your waist - hovering besides it like he was uncertain. Which was a crazy thought to you.

"Nowit's a deal." Jimin speaks up from behind Seokjin. Seokjin's broad shoulders had almost completely blocked your view of the other two men in the room that you had momentarily forgotten about them.

Seokjin moves away just as fast as his little peck on your cheek. Which makes you wonder if you were that indigent to him, this unappealing, that he'd resorted to a little peck on your cheek. This was ridiculous on its own because your perception of reality was so skewed considering the events that had transpired in the past hour. A few hours ago you were getting ready to do your weekly thorough cleaning of the vast left wing - now you were internally pouting at not receiving a kiss from one of the three most handsome men you'd ever laid your eyes on. Not to forget - two out of three were your employers.

The realisation is enough to jolt you out of your thoughts and speculations, looking around at all of them. "I should go."

Your words are shaky, rightfully so with how much physical intimacy you received in the last hour than the last month. Neither of the three men stop surveying your tremulous tip-toeing towards the door, trying to get out of the stifling room that was feeling too small with all the bodies occupying it.

They don't stop you when you're fumbling with the golden doorknob, finally pulling open the door. Though why would this day get any easier for you, right? And what had you done in your previous life to deserve this.... predicament. Standing in front of you, was another man. That's right. Another one. Beautiful, incredibly so. He seems to be just as tall as Jimin, ivory skin with a healthy amount of flush.

"Well, hello... maid." His deep - puzzled voice sends shivers down your spine as you stare Bambi eyed at him. Why were all these men so, comically handsome? He looks just as puzzled as he sounds.

"Ah! Perfect timing Yoongi hyung." The loud, boisterous voice startles you once again, whipping around to face Hoseok while Jimin walks towards the newcomer.

"Is the another one of your role-play threesomes Jimin? Poor thing looks like she's going to cry. Unless you're a professional actress?"

The last question is directed at you as he looks into your eyes, his own lovely face frowning as he inspects your uniform. Before you can answer though, Seokjin is scoffing, taking a seat on the couch once again with the drink in his hand that he'd been pouring earlier.

"Please, I wouldn't be here if that were true. Come, have a seat. She won't cry." He waves his dismissal of you and once again - your face is heating. This time in irritation.

Yoongi just shrugs, eyes still watching you as he sits beside a lounging Seokjin who offers him a drink. "So, what's the little maid doing here?"

Jimin is smirking again as he looks towards his older brother. "Let me explain." he offers.

"Make my friend a drink, little one."

"Pardon?" Seokjin sighs, as if being greatly inconvenienced that he has to elaborate.

"Just because you got a few kisses from us doesn't relieve you of your duties, yes?" His narrowed eyes are condescending but you can't say anything. Because he was right. You were still a maid at their house despite the little stunt they pulled earlier (you were complicit).

"Y-Yes. Of course." Eyes downcast as you make your way to the liquor cabinet, taking out the bottle that Seokjin had previously to pour himself one.

"Wait, you guys kissed your maid?" Yoongi's unbelievable laugh makes the blood rush back in to your cheeks. They were discussing you like you weren't there and it was embarrassing to say the least. Though they definitely out-ranked you on the power spectrum so you doubt they really cared much about your input.

"It was a transaction, nothing much of it."

"Talk about yourself, mine was definitely more than that." Jimin is scoffing but you still hear the smirk in his voice. "Isn't that right, sweetheart?"

You know he's talking to you even if he doesn't know your name yet but you resist the urge to turn around, already too embarrassed at how easily you'd given in to their advances. Wiping your hands down on your uniform again to get rid of the sweat that's been accumulating, you carefully hold the heavy liquor glass. Hoping that it doesn't slip from your clammy hands otherwise you were in a lot more trouble than before.

Hands slightly shaking, you stop right before you reach the couch, bending forward to hand the newest face his glass of whiskey. You hadn't noticed before but all 4 of them had been watching you. Carefully examining your composure and the nervousness pouring off of your frame as you tried to keep your eyes on the glass. You make the mistake of glancing up at Yoongi and almost drop the glass like you'd been trying to avoid. Thankfully, he mercifully takes it from you - eyes still watching as he takes a sip.

"Sorry! Sorry..."

"That's okay little one. What's your name?"

"Wait yeah. we never asked her name." Hoseok muses from the opposite couch he's sitting on and Yoongi scoffs at them all again. But they did? Did they really forget my name already?

"Really now?" He's shaking his head mumbling 'egocentric fools' before his eyes turn back to you. "Go on."

Taking a deep breath. Wondering if you should give your real name or a fake one this time in case they try to have you fired when you're gone. You decide to be brave and tell them your name. Again.

"Y/n." No stuttering, thank god.

"How long have you been working here y/n? I would remember a pretty face like yours." Yoongi's tone is light, not flirty like his words suggested. He seemed like a person who just talked this way - complimenting people he deemed worthy of them.

"Three- Three and a half months now." Your voice gets quieter the longer your sentence goes on. The blush on your face is now permanent because of how intently all of them seem to be looking at you. you also need to fight the urge to shuffle your feet around like you were on trial for something bad you did and they were the judge and the jury. In a sense you guess that they were because you wouldn't be here otherwise.

"Hm. Somehow I'm seeing you for the first time today." You bite you tongue, wincing lightly at your own strength but you had to. Otherwise you would go on a tangent about how he really rarely looked at the staff in his own home. Seokjin just annoyed you! Biting on your lip - a nervous habit - you contemplate whether you should ask if you can go.

You were soclose before.

"Please, hyung. You would've if you stopped admiring yourself every chance you got." Jimin mocks his older brother.

"Not my fault I look like this." Seokjin is gesturing to himself like it's a great burden being that good looking. Then again you don't know. It could be.

"Settle down children." Yoongi rolls his eyes at the two brother bickering, checking his gold toned Rolex before speaking again, "so, what's this scheme I’ve been summoned for? Spit it out."

"That'll be all y/n." Jimin's charming smile is directed at you all of a sudden when Yoongi mentions the dreaded plan that you'd overheard. Nonetheless, the way your name slips off his tongue sends a small shiver down your spine, nodding at him before staggering towards the door.

"Don't forget our deal, little one." You can hear Hoseok snickering when Jimin calls out behind your retrieving figure.

Knees almost knocking into each other when you're outside the room, you let out the biggest breath that you were once again, unwarily holding. What had you gotten yourself in to?

Everything was coming crashing down onto your psyche. The gravity of the situation was settling on you and you could feel the hyperventilation lurking nearby. These were not just normal everyday people who happen to have more money than you. The Kim family was affluent and prominent. They didn't follow the normal dynamics of society like all the other wealthy and rich in this country. They made the rules that they wantedto follow. Remembering the incident from when you'd just started working here, you could feel your heart drop down to your toes.

It was your second week on the job and your timorous nature was taking a back seat slowly - getting a hang of your duties. Anders was kind and let you settle in and perhaps because you were just as old as his granddaughter he'd told you about. Minhyuk - another staff member that you'd seen around the Manor and quite honestly developed a small crush on - had been showing you the east wing and what your duties included. You didn't have much to do there as it was Mr Kim's quarters, including his study and office where he worked once in a while. Not everyone had access to that area of the house and you figured it was because of his work. maybe he was really particular about the way things were done. You just didn't think much of it.

"You will always be given your schedule of the type and duration of cleaning required the day before when it comes to Master Kim's rooms so please take note of that."

He smiles sweetly as he shows you around. The notepad in your hand, you're diligently taking notes because you did not want to risk leaving all of this new information to your forgetful nature. You swear you hear him mumble 'cute' when he's watching you but the sound of heels clicking on the marble floors distract you both. When you look up - your jaw is almost dropping to the floor. You's seen Mr Kim's partner a fair few times - on the news that is. In person she was even more... unreal. Tall, thin with equally bright and big bone structure. It didn't phase you when you learnt that she was indeed - a model.

"Good morning Am- Ms King!" Her pearly whites make a small appearance before she curls her lips in an almost sensual smile.

"Good morning Minhyuk. Who is this?" She doesn't spare you a glance when she questions, fingers lingering on his shoulder as she leans in a little close to him.

The blush lettering Minhyuk's cheek tells you that this isn't the first time she's been this close to him. He introduces you as the newest staff addition but she doesn't seem to be listening. What she does though is start to question him about his weekend. Making him almost forget that you're there. What does capture your attention meanwhile is the slight rustle - as if someone had walked away from around the corner. You're only able to catch the colour black and a suit comes to mind automatically.

"Everything alright y/n?" Minhyuk's voice makes you whip your head around back to him and you catch Ms King watching you as well.

"I-I just thought I saw someone." Ms King frowns at that.

"That must be Ryuk. Excuse me." She just smiles - one that doesn't reach her eyes as she steps away. Ryuk?

Sensing your confusion, Minhyuk answers your unanswered question. "That's Mr. Kim. His first name is Ryuk. Weird right?"

You just chuckle along with him - completely missing the underlying panicked tone. He continues the tour but after your run-in with Mr Kim's fiancé, he seems to be on edge.

The next day at work - Minhyuk is nowhere to be seen. Not the next day either. Then never again. A month later - you receive your new duties in the east wing. Minhyuk's designated area.

"Excuse me sir," Anders looks up from the sheets of paper he'd been handing out to the rest of the staff, "Isn't it M-Minhyuk's area? Am I temporarily-"

He doesn't let you finish. "He doesn't work here anymore dear. These will be your permanent duties until further notice."

Your heart clenches at his direct tone. He only spoke like this to you on your first day at work. He doesn't elaborate any further and you get the hint to not further question the change in staff.

You don't see Minhyuk again.

How were you so asinine that you didn't connect the dots before? Minhyuk's panic as he'd shown you to your duties after Mr Kim had possibly seen you three chatting with his Fiancé, him getting replaced - fired? - with you. He was simply removed from the Manor and you'd never heard his name from any of the other staff members either. It's like he never worked there. You were rapidly fading down the doomed rabbit hole. Already thinking of about a hundred ways Mr Kim's sons could have you disposed of. Maybe you were thinking too much? Not possible. With this family, anything was possible.

The tear that falls down your face has you bringing your cold hand up to your hot cheeks. Foolishly, you've forgotten to go much further away from the room you'd exited from. The panic clouding your senses as you fished for your phone from your pocket, hastily dialling your grandmother's house phone.

A few rings later, you hear your mother's annoyed tone. "H-hello Mama."

Her tone turns sickly sweet, dishonest you know but you try to trick your heart and your brain in to believing her concern. "Hi dear! Haven't heard from you in so long. Are you not at work?"

Her tone turns serious and worried instantly at the prospect of you not being at work. You also want to tell her that you called every two days after work but she never wanted to speak to you unless it was payday. But that doesn't hurt you nearly as much as her not even being remotely entered in your wellbeing.

"I am at work. Could you... could you put Nana on the phone please?"

"Um. Okay." That's it. your voice is cracking and you know she can hear you but she doesn't care enough to ask.

"Hello? y/n?"

"Nana." whimpering, you try to not burst out crying. Keeping the intense emotions at bay.

"What's wrong dear? Are you alright?" Hearing her perturbed tone at your distressed one only makes the tears fall quicker, making you slap them away so they don't blur your vision completely.

"Nana... I might be in trouble. I-I might get..." fired. You couldn't say it. Once you let her know you were a hundred percent sure your mother would be incessant in having her spill the bad news. She would make your grandmother's life hell and you couldn't do that to her. Your mother needed the steady money to keep her in rehab. You had hopes that since she was at least going to rehab - that one day she could be a good mother to you.

"What dear? You can tell me y/n." Pushing your hand over your mouth, you try and swallow the sob before it passes through the phone. Though you could already hear your mother asking your Nana what was going on.

"Be quiet Elizabeth! I'll tell you."

"I-I'm okay. I just miss you." You could do this. your grandmother didn't deserve this. No one deserved this just because you made a foolish mistake and you hope she doesn't question you further.

"We miss you too dear. So much. Will you be able to visit soon? Let her get back to work Ma." Your mother sounded angry and you wanted to scream at her through the phone that at least your grandmother cared.

"I'll let you know. I have to go now Nana. I love you."

"I love you too darling. So much." She stays on the line for a few more moments. Making sure you didn't want to say anything else.

Dropping your head down in your lap - you let the last few stray tears fall, trying to stay as quiet as possible. You needed to pull it together. Your family was counting on you to keep this job and you were going to fight for it. Even if you were several outnumbered. You had their secret and that should count for something, right? As long as you appeared strong in front of them - maybe they'll leave you alone.

Dusting off your uniform, wiping away at your face and checking it in the nearest grand mirror on the wall - you get to work. You still had a job.

What you domiss though, is the man who had witnessed your panicked tears. He hadn't expected himself to be this affected but the way his heart clenched and his hands curled into fists at your disturbed state - he'd never wanted to comfort someone this badly. Empathy. A foreign emotion indeed.

[thegayagenda-forkids]

Why Cami is important, and why we need more of her types of characters.

While everyone is watching the Cartero/Tennis Boyfriends storyline, as well as Elena’s story and Gabi’s story, I want to talk about the only openly gay character at the moment (Episode 7/8), Camilla, but to really get to talk about her, I have to dive a little bit into the history of gay characters in comedies.*

**I’m only including gay characters in comedies because otherwise my list would be too long to be able to dive into, and this post is going to be mostly about Cami.

So, the first openly gay character to appear on American TV is Steve, played by Phillip Carey in 1971 on “All in the Family.” He appeared for only one episode, but he opened the door back when being gay was taboo, and wrong, and he wasn’t killed onscreen or beaten up. In fact, he was played straight, in a way. Throughout the episode, the main character is speculating about several other men being gay, while Steve was described by that character to be “a real man’s man.” It’s at the end of the episode where Steve comes out to him, dismisses the rumors about the other men the main character suspected, and then he was never seen on TV again. And his appearance is so important because it challenged stereotypes of what gay men on TV were, and where it was appropriate to see these topics. He opened the door for more gay characters to show up.

However, it was a bit of a double-edged sword because for the next several years, the gay characters we saw were “very special episode” characters, approached the same way these characters would approach cancer, or drugs, or addiction. They were a sensitive topic people need to know about, the episode will be less funny to show the full gravity of the situation. But, gay people were seen on TV.

Slowly, people start accepting that gay people exist, and while they might not wish direct harm on them, the general attitude was still very anti-LGBT rights. So gay characters shifted on tv and they were no longer sensitive topics to approach, but a minor/recurring character who was overwhelmingly male, flamboyant, stereotyped to hell, and typically, the “Gay Best Friend.”

The true turning point, in my opinion, was Ellen DeGeneres on “Ellen.” She was the main character of her show, personally in the process of finding herself and coming out, and then deciding to have the character she played come out in a serious, but relatively humorous way. There was backlash, her show didn’t last much longer after that, and overall, she took a huge risk. But she started the first step of the process: character first, sexuality second. She wasn’t defined for being gay like every other person, with potentially the exception of Steve, was up to this point.

But Steve and Ellen served different purposes. Steve de-stigmatized the idea of gay people appearing on TV by only revealing he was gay at the end. He only appeared for one episode, let everyone see how throughout the episode, he was the opposite of gay men they built up in their mind, and then only let the hammer drop right before vanishing forever. Ellen went through four years of people getting to know her, she was the principal main character, and then she came out after. Steve allowed gay people to be shown more on TV, Ellen allowed us to get to know them.

Then around that time, let me just say this: “Friends” was pretty problematic with several issues like the character of Ross and how Chandler’s birth parent transitioning, but there was one thing that was pretty well handled and relatively holds up, and that’s Carol and Susan. Now, by no means was their portrayal and representation perfect, and Ross frequently made jokes revolving around the fact that his ex-wife was a lesbian, but they were never jokes about Carol being wrong or weird, but rather self-deprecating ones, and then the show went on to show them raising and co-parenting a young boy with Ross and they even had the first lesbian wedding on TV, and, at least in my memory, they were never sexualized, meaning that they weren’t created to be objects of mens’ desires, they were simply in love and trying to lead fulfilling lives with each other.

And now we go from the sidelines all the way front and center with the original airing (not the reboot) of “Will and Grace.” The main character was an openly gay man living with a straight woman, who had a gay and an ambiguous, but potentially, bisexual best friends (Jack and Karen). And boy, was this show the first of it’s kind. Will wasn’t portrayed as flamboyant and taking on a stereotypical job, but rather the respected position as a lawyer, owning a nice apartment, and him being gay was only used as a fact while he dated men throughout the show. People at the time earnestly believed Will and Grace would get together in the end by how un-stereotypical and “not gay” Will acted.

But acting as his foil was Jack, perhaps the most flamboyant character to ever grace TV screens. He was loud, overly dramatic, cared too much about his appearance, and his goal was to be an actor. And he wasn’t automatically Will’s boyfriend because he was also gay. He was Will’s closest friend, a confidant, and though he could be an asshole, Jack was true to himself, even if his true self was every gay stereotype shoved into one body while Will got to break those stereotypes by being a well developed and well rounded character.

From there, Gay characters are a mixed bag. Normally in tv shows marketed for people 16 and up, not for children, and typically as side characters. We get our Kurt Hummels, our Mitch and Cams, our Oscar Martinezes, and all these others. They’re occasionally the main character in a cast, most of the time the side characters, and they’re varied. They’re also more visible, and they’re popping up more and more. Now, I’m not even going to get into Brooklyn Nine-Nine in terms of Queer representation because I could go on for days about how they’ve got it, and go into the similar media and target audience.

I’m, of course, talking about “Good Luck Charlie.”

Now I know, I KNOW! It was one episode where there were two moms that showed up for a play date. But it was one of the first kids’ shows to show a gay couple, and by kids, I mean that it’s marketed for people under 16 as well. And it was also pretty well addressed. The parents are wondering how to separate the couple in order to hang out while their toddlers played at the same time as arguing over who was the child’s mother since they each only met one. And when they open the door to Cheryl and Susan, they greet them normally and the only acknowledgment that comes is the father hitting his head like he had forgotten a word and saying “Taylor has two moms,” simply settling the argument about who was Taylor’s mom. And the rest of the episode was just about the parents trying to make friends but being annoying people until Susan and Cheryl fake headaches to leave. The episode treated them not as a “Gay Couple,” but rather a couple who happened to be gay. Not even Modern Family 10 years after the pilot can act like that.

And I KNOW you guys are waiting for it: Cyrus Goodman and Thelonious Jagger Kippen. I bet if I were to take a poll right now of who’s Disney’s first openly gay character, at least 90% of people would say it’s Cyrus Goodman. He was developed as his own person first; this adorable, quirky boy who loved his two best friends more than anything and would get over-enthusiastic for anything they did or he decided to pursue, and he went through panic, then he came out to Buffy. It’s also impressive that for Disney’s first gay main character, they didn’t have him already self-assured that he’s gay, but rather figuring it out and terrified when he came out to Buffy. He was afraid of what she’d think of him, what she’d say, and how their friendship would continue, which I touch more on *here.* At the same time, T.J. is also developed from a bully and antagonist to one of Cyrus’s newest, closest friends. He faces homophobic microaggresions while developing feelings towards Cyrus until he finally finds the courage to confess and start something new at the last episode. The fact that T.J. didn’t come out as gay until the last episode does not diminish his worth as a gay character. He was groundbreaking too because he is the first gay love interest in a Disney Show (and I mean mutual, because otherwise, that title would go to Jonah Beck and I’m not sure he can be counted as canon anything).

And now everyone is focusing on Bobby and Liam on “Diary of a Future President,” which is what the writers are shooting for, but we cannot forget about Cami! She is a form of casual representation that we need more of in writing. There was no marketing for her by Disney as a gay character, and she portrays a realistic representation. She mentions her girlfriend, makes small comments like “you two are hetero goals,” and lets us glimpse into her life. And she doesn’t take over a room like Jack does, she’s there for Cami, and has a good relationship with her kids, as proven by Gabi trusting her to pick up Bobby and Liam from Jupiter. And then the significance of Cami freeing Bobby and Liam from a storage closet is something I touched on earlier *here*.

So why is Cami important? Because she is the casual representation we want and deserve! She’s not a big deal on the show, but she also not diminished. She doesn’t need to make headlines to be important. She’s real, and believable, and I’m hoping there���s more of her as well as characters like her. Casual representation is important too, and it’s important because she’s not the only queer character on the show, and the other queer person isn’t her love interest.

Hopefully I got my message across that Cami is the next step of queer characters in shows.

[bishopsbelova]

0 to 44! Good luck 😉

Oh i see you lol

0: Height

5′4? I think 

1: Age

24 (I’ll be 25 in August) 

2. Shoe Size

7.5

3. Do you smoke?

No.

4. Do you drink?

Yes. 

5. Do you think drugs?

Nope. 

6. Age you get mistaken for?

Anywhere from 18-21. I swear no one believes I’m in my mid 20s

7. Have tattoos

No, I’m too broke lol

8. Want any tattoos?

I have so many planned out. Lockdown was a pretty busy brainstorming time for me. 

9: Got any piercings?

Just one in each ear. 

10: Want any piercings?

I want multiple ones in my ear lobes, kind of still want an industrial and I want that one that’s supposed to help migraines. OH and I kind of want my nose done

11: Best friend?

My college roommate from college (well she was my sixth roommate), has been my ride or die since we met and I love her to death. She’s literally seen me at my worst and has gotten me through the worst days of my life. 

12: Relationship status

Talking?? dating?? idk. I’ve went on like five dates with a co-worker and there’s potential; but we haven’t like talked talked about it. 

13: Biggest turn ons

Being able to make me laugh. 

14: Biggest turn offs

Lying - if there is something I hate the most, it's sneaking around and lying. Stop making it worse on yourself and just be upfront and honest about it. Chances are I'll hate you a lot less if you're truthful with me .

15: Favorite movie

Monsters Inc - if only because I’m staring at my stuffed Sully right now. Sure it’s a kid’s movie but it’s my comfort movie 

16: I’ll love you if…

I offhandedly mention that I like something and you give it to me as a gift or a “just because” later. Because it’s like, you remembered 

17: Someone you miss

My mom. She passed away when I was 19 and I haven’t been the same sense. Also my grandpa, who also passed when I was 19 

18: Most traumatic experience

Definitely losing my mom so young and so suddenly like I died 

19: A fact about your personality

Um? I'm pretty sure I had to be a cat in a past life. Quarantine really had me watching my cats a lot more and like, I had to have been a cat. It just makes sense

20: What I hate most about myself

That I’m kind of a pushover when it comes to certain things and I let people walk all over me a lot. 

21: What I love most about myself

That I’ve come to finally not give a shit what people think about me. 

22: What I want to be when I get older

I honestly have no idea right now. 

23: My relationship with my sibling(s)

My sister and I don’t really get along, kind of never did. I think we just tolerated each other. She’s 9 years older than me, so there was a gap there. And ever since mom died, she’s given herself this “second mom” role and it does nothing but piss me off. She’s kind of just been slightly unbearable since then

24: My relationship with my parent(s)

My dad’s my literal rock, has been since I was a kid (I was always a Daddy’s Girl). And especially now, since he’s all I have left. 

Now my relationship with my mom at times was rocking, I was still a dumb teenager when I lost her - and well, our last conversation was a fight and I still regret that to this day. 

25: My idea of a perfect date

Maybe a nice lunch and then a scroll through a park? I'm pretty chill to be honest 

26: My biggest pet peeves

People that don’t clean up after themselves (it’s why I hate the closing crew at work), people who constantly clicks their pens, micro-management, slow walkers 

27: A description of the girl/boy I like

Tall, dark haired, geeky, gamer boy

28: A description of the person I dislike the most

Rude, childlike girl who blew things out of proportion

29: A reason I’ve lied to a friend

30: What I hate the most about work/school

They kind of expect you to get too much done in a short amount of time. Like I get it's a fast paced environment but some of these expectations are unrealistic

31: What my last text message says

“I had to stay over almost two hours to clean up a week’s worth of a mess in baby.” 

Let’s just say, I stayed over at work to clean up shit 

32: What words upset me the most

Probably any comments about my appearance in a negative way or any negative comments about mental health even if it's not directly towards me

33: What words make me feel the best about myself

I'm so easy, I'll honestly just take the smallest compliment about my appearance or my personality and it'll make my day

34: What I find attractive in women

Everything??? I mean have you seen women???

35: What I find attractive in men

Eyes and smiles. I'm not sure what it is; but there is something about a nice smile that lights up your face and your eyes that I am trash for.

36: Where I would like to live

Part of me wants to say a beach somewhere because I feel like I was born to live on the beach; but a part of me wants to say a cabin in the woods somewhere away from people.

37: One of my insecurities

My nose 

38: My childhood career choice

I think I wanted to work at an amusement part because of Roller Coaster Tycoon. There was also a time, I wanted to work at a Zoo because of Zoo Tycoon.

I went through so many different phases that I wanted my future career to be, it was insane.

39: My favorite ice cream flavor

Moose Tracks

40: Who I wish I could be

The happiest version of myself

41: Where I want to be right now

A beach somewhere with two pina colada in my hands sounds fantastic right now

42: The last thing I ate

Smart popcorn

43: Sexiest person that comes to my mind immediately

Jason Momoa

44: A random fact about anything

95% of all Bourbon is distilled in Kentucky

[kayliemusing]

21

1. Is there something you have been trying to learn lately?  - There’s kind of a few, because I feel like they all tie into one. Self acceptance is a big one, self-discipline, productivity, and trusting in God (which has proven to be the hardest thing. It hurts to trust in something you don’t see the outcome of, but it hurts too much not to trust in God.)

2. If you ever feel like you are different from your extended family, in which ways is this?  - My dad/s side of the family is really toxic. There’s a lot of hypocrisy, drama, mental illness, drug addictions, and religiousness on that side (and when I say religious, I mean shame-y religion which I don’t agree with at all.) But my dad was really different from them. He was very kind, open to council, very steady and stable despite coming from such a dysfunctional background, and he loved God so truly that a lot of that pure ‘religion’ that exists within his family was broken off of him, and then I have my mom too, who is very fun, kind, caring, etc, so I grew up around more normalcy than my cousins did. My parents just parented me well and they talked about God to me and my sister a lot in such a good way that I never grew up around pure, shame-y, rule-bound religion which I think is the explanation why I (and my sister) are very different from our extended family. My dad died when I was fifteen so I don’t see that side very often, especially because they’re just entirely chaotic and dysfunctional so when I am around them it’s way more noticeable how different we are. (Sorry for big explanation. I’m in a super reflective mood lol.)

3. When you think about your future career, do you envision yourself becoming the head honcho or CEO? If not, why not?  - I’ve always kind of wanted to have this leader-esque feeling to my career, but no, I don’t see myself being a CEO. I really just want to be an author so I guess I would have some level of being a leader to my own business, but not quite on a CEO type level. Right now, I’m trying to focus on fiction but I’m easily overwhelmed by it so I have been considering other mediums of writing. I just don’t know what that is or what fits right.

4. Is there something that you are sort of weird about talking about? Like, a thing that other people find casual, but you feel uncomfortable when the subject comes up? - Sex, is the first thing that comes to mind, but not sex in general. More like the conversations that are too much, you know? Lol. Some people go really into detail or can be graphic about their sex lives and I’m just like, please don’t. I don’t mind generically talking about it, but there’s a line.   5. Can you think of a time when you seriously misjudged a music artist based on their name?  - I don’t think so. 

6. Do you ever make negative comments about other body types? How does it make you feel when you see or hear negative comments about your body type, or a physical trait that you have (even when it’s not directed at you)?  - Sometimes I have the tendency to judge other body types (i.e. I really don’t like the thigh gap look), but it’s never malicious and I’m always trying to be aware that others can’t help what they look like and if they’re happy in their body, that’s what matters. I struggle with disordered eating and kind of sit on that line between having an eating disorder and not having one so I’m very sensitive about my body and its type. I have a chubby tummy and I’m so insecure that it’s not flat that when I hear anyone say anything negative about not having a flat stomach it’ll ruin my day or I’ll just feel really ashamed.

7. If you are in a situation where you feel like you are being attacked or not respected, how easy or difficult is it for you to stay and keep your head rather than leave in a huff?  - I’ll usually leave the conversation. Maybe slam a door lol. I’ll usually stand my ground until I finally feel like I’m not heard or no one cares and then I’m out.

9. When you think about how attractive you feel and your favorite features, are you comparing yourself to a societal ideal?  - Yes. I happen to be well-acquainted with the comparison game.

10. If you have a favorite song right now: What is it? How did you first hear it? Why do you like it so much?  - My favourite song is probably Coney Island by Taylor Swift right now. It’s from Taylor’s new album Evermore, but I have a couple on that album that tie for my favourite song right now (Honorable mentions: Willow, Cowboy Like Me, Tis The Damn Season). I absolutely love how poetic this song is and I think one of my all time favourite lyrics she has ever written is in that song: “If I can’t relate to you anymore then who am I related to?” This song for me just feels like I’m reading a poem and I just sink right into the story she’s telling. 

11. Have you ever had someone that has been your friend for a while come to you and tell you they had romantic feelings for you? How did you respond, and did the friendship survive?  - I did have a friend of mine tell me they had feelings for me. We had become friends in the eighth grade and then he confessed his feelings for me in the ninth grade, I told him I didn’t feel the same way but we stayed friends and it didn’t ruin anything, and then he confessed again in the eleventh grade and I said no to him again. After that final rejection, we never really made it back to being friends for a few reasons a) We stopped being in the same classes, b) I think he was really hurt and c) his friend (who is most dramatic than a girl by the way, and ironically dating one of my friends at the time) stuck his nose where it didn’t belong and gave his two cents and that was kind of when it fell apart. I didn’t really know his friend so it was weird that he had this narrative of me that he said “was leading X on” when I was just trying to be his friend but it’s whatever now. That was when I was like sixteen lol. 

12. Hypothetically speaking, if Hillary Clinton were running for President as a democrat against Chris Christie as a republican in 2016, who do you predict would win the election?  - Well, since it’s 2021 now, I would predict that Trump would win and divide America. 

13. When you are getting to know someone new online (particularly someone male), how cautious are you of the possibility that they are serial killer/kidnapper? - I honestly never think of this, mostly because we live in such an online world now and I’m an adult. I don’t really know how much of this still happens, but you just don’t hear about it anymore. Not to mention, if it is a male, it’s most likely a pedophile (which is still gross) rather than a killer or kidnapper.

14. If you are talking to someone that you want to get to know, what are your go-to conversation topics? What subject makes you disappointed when another person isn’t interested in or knowledgable about it? - Tbh I feel like I’m really bad at conversations and I don’t know how to lead them because I’m quiet and scared of looking stupid. I know I really like deep conversations more than basic questions. However, it’s very important that I know their opinion on Taylor Swift because if there’s a chance they don’t like Taylor Swift, I already know that the person is probably not worth my time. For real though, if I’m having a conversation with someone, I usually get disappointed if I find out they’re a partier or drink a lot, because I’m really not into any of that stuff so it’s immediately like playing the Sims and having the minus sign appear above my head.

15. Say you have a lot of free time and want to join a club or class. You are browsing postings on local bulletin boards and online. What sort of group would you be interested in joining (e.g., book club, game group, crafts, golf lessons, etc.)? - A romance-only book club, DIY club.

16. Have you ever kissed someone that you didn’t really want to kiss (not assault, just indifference)? Why did you go along with it and how did you feel after?  - Nah I’ve never been kissed

17. Have you recently learned anything about your personality? If not, have you ever consciously tried to change your personality? - Sort of recently, it was something I discovered last year which is that I’m a neurotic perfectionist and what I mean by that is I’m a perfectionist in a very self destructive way. I’ve always known I was ‘particular’ or others would say ‘has high-standards/expectations’ but I realized that it’s literally just perfectionism.

18. Are you or any of your friends in a sorority or fraternity? Would you be interested in belonging to one?  - No and I don’t really understand what they are or why they’re a thing.

19. Can you recall a recent time that you were surprised, but in a bad way? - Yes. When my job eluded that they thought I was stealing from the registers. This happened around September 2020? Basically they didn’t flat out say that’s what they thought, but they made comments that the tills were either short or over at the ends of the night whenever I would be working and dead ass said “it looks suspicious”. I think it was surprising because I’ve worked there was two years and really felt like they should have known my character. (I literally am afraid of getting in trouble for the smallest things and they seriously thought I was capable of stealing from them lmao)

20. Do you feel uncomfortable when you receive praise for doing certain things? If so, does this make you less likely to do those things?  - No totally the opposite. I really struggle with validation and I never feel good enough, which is something I’m working on, but it feels almost like I thrive on praise. Maybe it’s because my love language is words of affirmation?? I just always like/need to know when I’m doing a good job so when I don’t get praise or validation my self esteem plummets. 

21. Do you make spontaneous purchases often or rarely? When you are upset does it make you temporarily happier to buy yourself something new?  - Spontaneous purchases, often because I have no self control lol, but lately I’ve been working hard to try to save more. And yes when I’m upset, it does make me feel better to buy things.

22. If you have to wake up early for something, what time is just TOO early for you to be there and be presentable and sentient? Have you ever had to be somewhere that early?  - 5 am. I think I can manage 6 am, but anything before that is a no from me. I used to work at 5 am when I worked at Chapters, but it was a nice shift because I finished work at 10 am and then went home and napped for two hours and then had literally the entire day.

23. Have the majority of your romantic relationships started with a physical attraction or a deeper connection? - I’ve never had a romantic relationship oops. But at least I read romance novels every day (and I write romance too!) I’ll try to answer this based on what I think would happen. I think it would start as a physical attraction and I think a lot of relationships start that way but they become something when you have a real connection. I think there are relationships that can start the other way though too, but I’d say for me it’ll probably be physical attraction first. 

24. Do you ever catch any of those conspiracy shows on Animal Planet, like Bigfoot hunting or proof of Mermaids? Do those shows make your more or less likely to believe in the existence of such creatures?  - No, but I DO watch ghost conspiracy theories/”REAL GHOST CAUGHT ON CAMERA” videos on Youtube for fun. But no I don’t believe in any of that stuff. 

25. Did you ever write a fan letter to a celebrity? How about submit something to a magazine? - I’ve never technically written a fan letter to a celebrity but I wrote a post on tumblr to Taylor Swift a couple years ago that she’ll never see lol. And I’ve never submitted anything to a magazine, but I’d like to one day. 

[viovivii]

Why having a strong dad is IMPORTANT. Every girl needs a strong daddy in their life ❤️ good book. p.s DONT FUCKING BE A DEAD BEAT

this was a good read:

Chapter 1 – You Are the Most Important Man in Her Life

I’ve said this before, but scary. I am also the most important man in my wife’s life, but she was able to make a conscious decision to choose me. Not my girls, they are simply stuck with me!

Meg states that in her practice she has seen many young girls doing terribly unhealthy things to see if their fathers will notice. Young girls crave a father’s attention and love.

Dad’s don’t need to change who they are to be great dads. They need to invest in the relationship and understand what the world is telling your daughters through TV, the internet and their friends. Your job is to protect them from the ugliness that is out there and they naturally look to you to do that.

Next, Meg shares some scary statistics. Here are a few:

What is taught in sex ed. It is ridiculous. Make sure you understand what your school teaches.

One in five Americans over age twelve tests positive for genital herpes.

9% of girls fourteen to seventeen years old experience unwanted sex, primarily because they fear their boyfriends will get angry.

5% of high school girls have had sad, hopeless feelings for longer than 2 weeks. Many physicians call this clinical depression.

6% of Caucasian, 20.7% of Hispanic and 12.4% of African American females have made suicide plans in the last year.

8% of high school students drank alcohol before the age of thirteen.

7% of high school students have used some form of cocaine.

Kids spend 6.5 hours per day watching media of some form.

Kids with TVs in their bedrooms watch 1.5 hours more TV than kids who do not have TVs in their bedrooms. I’m sure this stat would hold true for smartphones.

Meg goes on to cite numerous statistics about how families can win the war against media through strong relationships with their kids. We can win this fight!

Chapter 2 – She Needs a Hero

Despite whatever outward impression she gives, your daughter’ life is centered on discovering what you like about her and what you want from her. She cannot feel good about herself until she knows you feel good about her. She does not want to see you as her equal. She wants you to be her hero. Someone stronger, steadier and smarter than she is.

The only way you will alienate your daughter is by losing her respect by failing to lead or failing to protect her. If you fail to meet her needs, she will find someone who will. That is where all the trouble can begin.

One of the best things you can do as a father is to raise your daughters’ expectations about life. Let her know that she is God’s masterpiece and that she will do great things in this life.

Deep down, we all want authority and rules in our life. We may instinctively want to buck authority, but when our world starts to fall apart, we run to the person who is that authority in our life.

Meg also suggests putting your expectations for your children in writing, now – while they are young. Teenagers are excellent at tangling your thinking. Write down your rules now. Laminate them, carve then into stone

Chapter 3 – You are Her First Love

You are her first love. You have other loves in your life, but she does not. Every man who enters into her life will be compared to you. If you have a good relationship with her and her mom, she will choose boyfriends who will treat her well.

Always be positive. Admire her deep, intrinsic qualities. Always keep the bar high. She will live up to the standards you set.

As she grows older, don’t assume she is capable of making good decisions. Protect her so she is in a safe place to make poor decisions – kids always will make bad decisions. It is how they learn. Enforce curfew. Girls with a curfew know that someone cares and is waiting up for them at home.

Pay attention. Listen closely. It takes time and patience, but it will build bonds that will last a lifetime. Start daddy-daughter times when they are young and stick with it. Teenagers need you more than at any other time in their life.

If you stay with her, look at her and keep listening to her she will always come back for more. She will feel more attractive and rightfully assume that boys that don’t want to be with her have a problem (because you are smarter and wiser than they are). This is a very good thing.

Chapter 4 – Teach Her Humility

“Humility is not thinking less of ourselves, it is thinking of ourselves less.” – C.S. Lewis

“It is not about you.” – the first sentence of The Purpose Driven Life by Rick Warren.

Humility is hard and it must be modeled. It is the starting point for every other virtue. Humility means having a proper perspective on ourselves, of seeing ourselves as we really are. It also means knowing that every person has equal worth.

Take pride in her accomplishments, but don’t go overboard. Always recognize the accomplishments of her peers as well.

Make sure that she knows that her accomplishments do not define her. Her maker already did that. Trying to define ourselves with accomplishments and stuff is a never ending trap. Give her a firm foundation of who she is in God and it will serve her well forever.

Don’t let the world revolve around her.

Chapter 5 – Protect Her, Defend Her (and use a shotgun if necessary)

Let her know that she is beautiful.

Hug her. It is that important to her. Tell her you love her and how precious she is.

Every boy that dates your daughter needs to know he is responsible to you.

Be aware of the mixed messages she will receive about sex from school. Make sure that your message is the final word on the subject.

She might hate you for this in the short term, but she will thank you for protecting her and she will tell you that sooner than you might expect.

Chapter 6 – Pragmatism and Grit: Two of Your Greatest Assets

It’s OK.

Men are pragmatists. They look for solutions – often when our wives and daughters only want to be heard. Don’t negate listening, but your family needs your pragmatism, your realism, your solutions.

Daughters can become only one of two types of women; princesses or pioneer women. Praise the Lord he brought me a pioneer woman to marry. That gives our girls a much greater chance at becoming pioneers themselves.

Princesses believe they deserve a better life and expect others to serve them. Pioneers know that their hard work is how they achieve improvement in their lives. They are in charge of their own happiness.

You must teach your daughter to be a pioneer. The other option is not good and can lead to a host of bad decisions later – like marrying for money and stability.

Grit – Your family needs and deserves your best. As men, we often use up the best of us at work and have little left for home. That is not acceptable. We must get our heads right and game faces on for the job (the most important job) that waits for us when we walk in the door to our homes.

Divorce – It is the central problem that has created a generation of young adults who are at higher risk for chaotic relationships, sexually transmitted diseases and confusion about life’s purpose.

Don’t get confused and believe that going to church will keep your family together. Turns out the divorce rate in the church is about equal to that of the non-church going world. You must live out your faith at home and fight to keep your family together.

When your life nears its end your family will be your greatest accomplishment, not any businesses or buildings you may have built.

Chapter 7 – Be the Man You Want Her to Marry

Think about the standards you’d like your daughter’s future husband to meet. Pretty high, right? Do you live up to those same high standards?

It’s tough medicine to swallow, but we likely have higher standards for our daughter’s future husbands than we maintain for ourselves as husbands to their mothers. We’ve got a ton of great excuses. Work is so hard, I have so little time for me, blah, blah…

Are you always patient and kind? Are you an encourager? One day you will be walking her down the aisle to marry a man that will be very much like you. It is the way women are made. They are drawn to what they know.

Show your daughter that your relationship with your family is more important than possessions and expensive vacations. Make the family your priority.

It is a great strength to live knowing that if you lost every material possession, you would still have a life worth living!

Let her know that you will disappoint her. You’ll try very hard not to, but you will. You are human.

Chapter 9 – Teach Her to Fight

Women are emotional. This is truer for teenagers. They have emotions and impulses that must be kept in check or bad decisions will be made. As the Dad, you can help her make good decisions and make bad decisions safely through your direction and authority.

You understand how to battle impulses. You’ve won some battles and probably lost plenty. Your daughter does not know how to battle her impulses yet. That is why she needs you to make her life a safe place to learn these hard lessons.

Choose your battles carefully. Never budge on honesty, integrity, courage and humility. You can let a lot of the other stuff go.

Your daughter’s brain and her capacity for rational thought will not be fully developed until her late teens or early twenties. This is when she needs you most. Don’t get her to 16 years old and assume she is fully qualified to make great decisions.

Chapter 10 – Keep Her Connected

You, Dad, are the most important person in your daughter’s life. Keeping your family together and spending time together as a family is what will help your children avoid the traps in life (sex, drugs, alcohol, gangs). It has been proven time after time. Families that stay together have more successful kids.

Give your kids experiences. Hang out with them, have fun and be a great example. Get away from all the screens, get outdoors, have adventures, have conversations.

Hopefully, this book will help. Maybe this quick summary will encourage more dads to read the actual book (you really must – it is that good).

To all you Dads, fight the good fight.

[risottostitties]

I love your headcanon posts! what are some of your headcanons (backstory and personality) for the rest of La Squadra?

Oh boy, these got kinda long. I hope you enjoy my dumb rambling about La Squadra (also my bias towards Melone and Sorbet+Gelato is showing I’m so sorry) I added the songs I used for inspiration on Sorbet and Gelato’s stands so that’s something lmao

Also also I’m still trying to figure out formatting on tumblr I’m so sorry.

Also also also I have so many dumb headcanons for the inner bureaucratic workings of Passione and what each ‘position’ in the gang entails and how Passione became a dominant force in Italy and oops I’ve slipped them in here a bit my b.

Fromaggio

-        He got his start smuggling. Drugs, weapons, people, Little Feet made that a breeze.

-        The thought of being an assassin never crossed his mind, because it seemed like a lot of work. More so than smuggling which was basically just getting stuff from point a to point b without getting caught.

-        Fromaggio was a confident dude, laid back and easy going with an agreeable personality that most people enjoyed.

-        He’s not exactly details oriented though, and that’s what came to bite him in the ass.

-        He was working with one of the few groups not affiliated with Passione and it was only a matter of time before the operation was busted.

-        Fromaggio never really asked many questions about his jobs, nor did he care very much who or what he was smuggling. He met with a man in Malta seeking entrance into Naples and was willing to pay handsomely. So of course, Fromaggio agreed.

-        If he’d been paying more attention, he would have recognized that man as Prosciutto.

-        Fromaggio brought the assassin right into their main warehouse and it was game over from there.

-        Prosciutto took interest in Fromaggio’s stand and decided against killing the man, instead bringing him to Risotto to see what the Capo thought about his abilities.

-        When offered a choice between dying with the rest of his old associates or joining Passione, the choice was obvious.

-        He really, really enjoys gambling. Prosciutto supplements his income with Fromaggio’s gambling habit.

-        Fromaggio gets along well with all of La Squadra. He’s always been an agreeable dude and he’s willing to give just about anything a shot once. So he’s at least passingly knowledgeable about the interests and hobbies of other members.

-        Fromaggio, Prosciutto, Pesci, Ghiaccio, and Melone make up the main ‘kill squad’ of La Squadra where Illuso, Sorbet, and Gelato handle clean up and intel gathering.

 Illuso

-        Illuso does very little killing himself. For the most part, he deals with disposing of evidence. The mirror world is great for that.

-        Because of this he has the lowest kill count out of all of them.

-        He is Sicilian like Risotto, and they converse in Siciliano when it’s just the two of them. Neither of them is particularly chatty though.

-        Ghiaccio and Pesci didn’t know he was a member of the squad for weeks because he rarely ever leaves the mirror. He doesn’t even have a room in their hideout, he just sleeps in the room of whoever forgets to cover their mirror.

-        Most of the time its Pesci’s room because he feels bad

-        I hc him at about 27

-        He joined La Squadra after Ghiaccio and was more or less ‘gifted’ by Polpo because of his quiet demeanor.

Ghiaccio

-        He’s baby (24)

-        His first kill was at age 18 when he was working in a chop shop and beat someone to death with a wrench.

-        Melone was the one to bring him into La Squadra, his bike was getting some work done in the shop and he was there to see Ghiaccio snap.

-        Risotto wasn’t keen on letting someone so young join La Squadra and initially turned Ghiaccio away. Which pissed the boy off enough for him to seek out Polpo, demand a trial, and come back with White Album.

-        He had never skated in his life, but White Album gave him the instinctive ability to do so.

-        He can only skate while wearing White Album. Without it, he actually had to learn.

-        He reflexes and balance also improved greatly after gaining White Album

-        He’s the only one not ‘trained’ by Prosciutto, instead Risotto took over his ‘training’. The Capo wanted to personally make sure he was equipped to handle the life that comes with La Squadra.

-        Risotto and Ghiaccio are quite close. Risotto was initially intrigued by White Album and Ghiaccio liked Risotto the most because he was the only person who was careful with his words.

-        He’s got a keen eye for detail and an eidetic memory. He enjoys taking apart electronics and seeing how they work (and how he can improve them)

-        Ghiaccio enjoys working with cars, but doesn’t like all the oil and grease.

Melone

-        I hc his age at 28

-        He was always too inquisitive for his own good, and very curious as a child. Most people found him annoying

-        Melone has absolutely zero respect for personal space. If he likes you, he will hang off you without a second thought.

-        And if someone retaliates jokes on you he think’s its hot.

-        It is possible to make him angry, but he won’t let it show out of spite. You really gotta be angling for it if you want to piss him off, and if you’ve put in that much effort into getting a rise out of him he’s not going to give you the satisfaction.

-        His mom was like Giorno’s, a party girl who resented her children for holding her back

-        He has an older half sister who took care of him when he was younger. They were extremely close.

-        From her he learned to paint nails, braid hair, and they both really enjoyed looking at horoscopes and other astrology/pseudoscience things.

-        She was 10 years older than Melone, and when she married Melone went to live with her (he was about 12 at the time) and he never really got along with his brother in law.

-        Her husband was in Passione, a low ranking Soldato but an ambitious one. She was aware of her husband’s occupation but decided the risk was worth the reward (and the financial stability)

-        Her eventual pregnancy led to Melone’s fascination with pregnancy and childrearing.

-        She died due to complications with a late term miscarriage when he was 16

-        After this Melone and his brother in law stuck together. Melone joined Passione, receiving his stand from Polpo’s Arrow.

-        The pair of them had a pretty good scheme going on but eventually his brother in law bit off more than he could chew, and Risotto was called in to clean up the mess.

-        Babyface proved to be a challenge, and instead of eliminating Melone as he was working with the target Risotto decided to offer him a choice.

-        Self-preservation won out and in a show of loyalty Melone had Babyface kill his former brother in law. At best, he tolerated the man because his sister loved him and after she died he was a good meal ticket so when his life was on the line it didn’t take much prodding for Melone to turn on him.

-        It took a while for Risotto to trust him because of how easily Melone’s loyalties shifted but once that trust was earned Melone never gave Risotto a reason to regret it even if his impulsive decisions (such as dragging Ghiaccio into Passione) caused him some trouble occasionally.

Pesci

-        Pesci is actually, genuinely, a sweet guy. He’s respectful of his superiors, polite (if not a bit awkward) to strangers, will offer help if he sees someone struggling with a heavy bag or something on a high grocery shelf, the whole nine yards.

-        He has a habit of second guessing himself and apologizing often but is quick to offer reassurance to people if he sees they’re having a bad day.

-        He also has a hair trigger temper and killed a man by snapping his neck with his bare hands.

-        That’s what landed him in jail.

-        Its like flipping a switch with this guy.

-        Risotto personally bailed Pesci out of jail and brought him into his team because of his brute strength. It was novel, to see someone so capable without a stand.

-        He received his stand from Polpo’s arrow.

-        Pesci is the newest member of La Squadra, but not the youngest (that honor goes to Ghiaccio) and I personally hc him at 25

-        His ‘training’ mostly consists of shadowing Prosciutto and observing how he does things. There is a lot to be learned from watching another stand user work, even if their stands are vastly different.

-        He lacks real strategy, which is another reason he was teamed up with Prosciutto (who winds up ‘training’ most of the new recruits anyway)

-        He’ll be considered a full fledged assassin once he completes his first job on his own (with Illuso or Fromaggio tailing him to observe, depending on the abundance of mirrors)

Sorbet and Gelato

-        Of the two, Sorbet is the most talkative. He’s got a pretty good sense of humor, and a natural charisma about him that puts people at ease if they don’t already know him

-        Gelato and Prosciutto are both card sharks and they keep their skills sharp by practicing on each other.

-        While no one would call any of them selfless, they would lay down their lives for each other without hesitation.

-        They have so many words unique to their relationship that people listening in would assume they’re talking in code half the time.

-        Sorbet and Gelato are the oldest members of La Squadra. Sorbet was 36 when he died, and Gelato was 41

-        Sorbet got his start in Passione, Gelato was part of a ‘merger’ so to speak.

-        The previous syndicate Gelato was a part of was assimilated by Passione after Diavolo returned to Italy. He was familiar with Pericolo as they had been part of the same group.

-        Sorbet and Gelato both have stands, although they were both born stand users.

-        Gelato’s stand is called Mack the Knife and it allows him to eat anything regardless of size (and his stomach acid has a ph value of 1.3). On top of this, it also gives him sharp and study teeth. If for some reason something he eats breaks a tooth he has more in reserve, like a shark.

-        Sorbet’s stand is called Fortunate Son and essentially it hides the user and anyone they touch in plain sight. They’re not invisible, but you must be consciously looking for Sorbet in order to find him when Fortunate Son is active.

-        They joined La Squadra before it was ‘La Squadra’ Risotto (being green himself at the time) wanted more experienced people on his team but had little to no luck recruiting people until these two.

-        They’re well known in the gang for their unorthodox (putting it gently) methods of doing things and kept most people from approaching them.

-        Primarily they ‘interview’ people for information on Squadra targets, but those interviews always turn deadly.

-        While they enjoy killing more than anyone else in La Squadra, they don’t typically get kill jobs because they’re just good at interrogating people. They make do with that just fine though. Neither of them enjoys leaving loose ends.

-        Before Illuso joined, Gelato oversaw clean up and disposal.