#or having him be suffering at the hand of pe and wanted my two sense on it since hes like a husk and shell of P.E's practices

[dykedvonte]

Polle is such a kind and inoffensive looking mascot especially with how he is depicted as a worker like the rest of the crew. It makes you forget how much the crew actually dislike him.

The demeanor of the character that Pony Express tries to get across is jovial, sanitized and simple like everything the job isn't which puts a twistedly funny light on Curly's disdain that they sell Polle plushies to kids. It is the inherent seedy nature of the Pony Express marketing and advertising themselves to kids, effectively grooming them into becoming future workers through their "comfort" toy being the companies face. He can't believe it both for how obviously gross it is, but because the crew themselves can't imagine wanting it.

It's that the employees have long stopped seeing Polle as a sort of fun icon of themselves but the watchful eyes of the company. All those posters depicting him as one of them ring hollow, outlined and instead characterized by the uncaring, callous and shallow nature of P.E that is given a focus of contempt through Polle: Anya lamenting the food, Swansea mocking the breaks they get, Curly and his disillusionment and how Jimmy destroys the statue. They all have a problem with the company and Polle as the mascot is an outlet for it in a variety of different ways.

[fxtalitygod]

II. ~𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥~

Pairing: Trueform!Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader

Summary: You were determined to survive, longer than anyone, even if you were set to marry him.

Genre: Historical AU, angst, mature, suggestive, arranged-marriage

Warnings: Dark themes, Y/n going through trauma, slightly implied r*pe, dubcon/noncon, mentioned breeding (non-kinky), crying during sex, Implied Stockholm Syndrome, slight mentions of suicide, Pet names (Y/n called Little Flower 3-4x) mentions of murder, language/swearing, mentions of infertility, pregnancy

Word Count: 3.2k

Note: I'm sorry this took a while, I've had a bit of writer's block. Anyways, I am proud to say that this will not be a series that will be no longer than five parts I hope. Also, I have opened my asks! If you want to ask me any questions about this story or to talk about hcs, maybe even suggestions. Moving on, enjoy part two of Survival!

JJK Mlist•Taglist Rules•

• Pt.I • Pt.II • Pt.III

The rumors were indeed false, at least for you. For the women who still had a functioning mind, such as yourself, life with Ryomen Sukuna was far from luxurious.

After your first night with Sukuna, you had a second mind to end your suffering, but you knew you couldn’t do that. Despite the circumstances, you still had a family praying for your well-being, so to end it all would be selfish. To break your promise for relief would be selfish.

You sat up from the bed, turning to see that Sukuna was still there, seemingly asleep. There was a moment you thought about killing him, but you knew better. Although seemingly defenseless, you knew he wasn’t a normal man, he was most likely awake sensing your every movement.

Deciding to ignore the presence of the four-armed man, you attempted to stand up. Your attempt was futile. You collapsed almost immediately, the aching pain between your legs too great to ignore.

When you looked down, you saw the damage that Sukuna had done. There were bruises, bite marks, and scratch marks littering your body. The state of your body left you horrified. You sat there staring at yourself for almost twenty minutes until the door opened, four to five housemaids walking in to take you to the bathing room.

Leaving the room, you managed to spot out the man from last night, the one who had unwillingly watched you get violated. The two of you made eye contact for only a few seconds, both of you too ashamed and embarrassed about the situation that had occurred the other night.

You eventually ended up in the bathing room. You were scrubbed down by the housemaids, who attempted to be careful with you considering the state of your body. There were moments when they did poke at a bruise or mark, causing you to hiss a little. The reactions they gave you when you made the sound of pain caused you to pity them.

Every time you hissed or flinched, the maids would quickly pull back and cover their forms as if shielding themselves, they thought you were going to hit them. You wanted to reassure them, but you knew it wouldn't fix the past trauma they had acquired during their years of service at the temple. You decided that it was best to earn their trust over time rather than force it.

Eventually, the maids left you by yourself, trying to give you space after the events of last night. You sat there, staring at your reflection in the water. You looked at the bruises and marks covering your shoulders and neck, bringing your hand to hover over them slightly. You felt violated, completely disgusted, you wondered what you had done to receive such punishment.

A few tears, unknowingly to you, escaped your glossy eyes. You did nothing to wipe them nor tried to hide them, you just let them fall. You figured these moments when you were by yourself, would be the only moments where you could let all your emotions out, which would be often.

You sat there silently crying, losing track of time, until a few maids came in to help you out and get you clothed. Just like your wedding day, you were blanked out, everything was crashing down on you. You were trapped here for god knows how long.

"Sukuna-sama has requested for you, L/n-sama" One of the maids whispered.

Yeah, you were trapped, he wasn't going to let you go anytime soon.

You were led back to Sukuna's chambers, the trip short and silent. When you arrived at Sukuna's chambers, you noticed that he was nowhere to be seen. You turned towards the door only to see that it had already been closed, the maids heading off to attend to other matters around the temple.

You stood there for a while, waiting for the man you called husband, but there was no indication of him coming anytime soon. You were beginning to grow impatient and anxious, so to calm yourself you decided to explore the room more. There was nothing that really caught your eye until you turned to see a beautiful kanzashi on the other side of the room- it looked so out of place. Curiosity began to get the best of you and you decided to walk over to examine it, but stopped in your tracks once you felt warmth hit the back of your neck.

"Snooping around are we?"

Your soul almost left your body right then and there, but you managed to keep your heart beating at a normal rate and kept your breath from hitching.

"I apologize, I was only looking."

Through your peripheral vision, you could see Sukuna smirking, seemingly amused with your response.

You avoided making eye contact with him, deciding to stare at the wall in front of you. You could feel his fingers mess with your kimono slightly, it was only when he started fiddling with your bow did you begin to panic a little. He only smirked as he began to taunt you a little more by slightly tugging at the bow, continuing to tease you by tugging different parts of your clothing, sometimes revealing a hickey or two, before pulling his hands away.

"It's pretty isn't it?"

You took a small swallow before giving him a response, preparing your voice to avoid stuttering.

"It is, whom does it belong to?

"No one, I haven't found someone to give it to," he said with an amused tone.

You only nodded your head slightly, hoping to get the small talk over with so he would get to the point on why he sent for you.

"You're an interesting one Y/n, you haven't given me one reaction ever since you got here," he said in a teasing tone, "Are you a statue of some sort?"

You could see he was trying to provoke you in some way, but you weren't going to give him the satisfaction. You only shook your head and looked away, avoiding eye contact.

Sukuna slightly frowned at the lack of response, but before he could try to press you a bit more, the door to his chambers opened. Looking to the entrance, there was a woman dressed in a beautiful kimono. When she walked through the door she was seemingly shocked, as if something was different or out of place.

"Have I mistaken the time?" the woman asked innocently, though you could still sense the venom in her voice.

"No, this is when I would be seeing you, but we've currently found ourselves enamored with this kanzashi, right Y/n?"

You didn't dare look at the woman, you could already feel her eyes burning into your skull. You didn't fear the woman herself, but you did fear whatever delusion she had painted. It was clear that this woman had romanticized her relationship with the four-armed man.

"I suppose," you said, but not without a slight hesitance.

As much as you didn't want to deal with the woman, you were also afraid of Sukuna's displeasure of your response. Unfortunately, your life would be dictated by Sukuna, especially in terms of life and death. If he were to ever become dissatisfied with you, he could kill you at any moment.

"You can leave, you're presence is not required."

The woman was shocked once again. She seemed about ready to say something, but some unknown force had stopped her. You turned to look at Sukuna only to see that he was admiring the kanzashi.

Unknowingly to you, the woman didn't halt her words by choice. The woman had opened her mouth to give you a piece of her mind, but Sukuna had shut it down with a piercing look. It was a warning, a warning of telling her to keep her little mouth shut or be severely punished, and not in a way she would like.

It didn't take long for the woman to take her to leave, deciding on having a 'discussion' with you some other time

Focused on the woman leaving, you hardly noticed Sukuna's movements. When you turned your head to look at the kanzashi, you noticed it had disappeared, so when you felt a slight poke on your head, you were a little surprised.

Arms were placed upon your waist, turning you around. Sukuna stared at you with intensity, one you weren't familiar with. Although you've only known him for less than a day, you could already tell he was acting abnormally. Before you could figure out his peculiar behavior, he reached over and grabbed, what you had assumed to be the kanzashi, out of your hair.

He let out a hum before placing the kanzashi back in its original place. It didn't take long for him to plaster his infamous smirk onto his face.

"Well then my Little Flower, I believe you can go now."

"You didn't need me for anything?" you asked, slightly confused.

"Curious are we?"

Having a realization of what you had said or rather asked, you became a little disgusted with yourself. The way you sounded when you asked the question almost made you sound desperate, desperate for something you did not want. That wasn't the only problem, you had also questioned him. You didn't know what set Sukuna off nor how his punishments were given out, but you weren't willing to risk anything.

"No, I apologize for questioning you," you said quickly, your head bowed down.

You heard a deep chuckle, one that sent shivers down your spine. You could feel his shadow looming over you, you could feel his stare on you. You could practically see the evil grin painted on his face.

"I accept your apology, but I'm afraid you will still have to be punished; however, it will have to be at a later time, for now, you may leave."

You could clearly understand what he was hinting at, bringing fear into your soul. Your eyes widened as a vivid flashback of the night before popped into your head. Before you could process his words properly, a maid walked into the room and led you off. You managed to bow to your husband before leaving, but after that, you were mindlessly walking around the temple.

This was your life from this point forward, you would be nothing more than Sukuna's trophy wife and you had to live with that.

It had been around 9 months, almost a year, of living in the temple and you were starting to get used to it. After your one 'punishment,' you were never punished again. In the little time you were there you had started to become a little actress, acting dutifully around the temple and obeying every order given to you. As much as you wanted to kill Sukuna, especially with the many chances you got, you never did. You thought it would be better to build on his trust rather than recklessly killing him, there would be a point in time when that day came, but for now, you would be his perfect "Little Flower."

You had already befriended some of the wives, trying to at least form some good relationships so you weren't completely miserable. Some of the acquaintances that you made had been girls you had known in your village before they were sent off to be wed. The first thing you noticed upon seeing them is that they seemed somewhat drained as if something had died within themselves and you knew exactly what that something was.

Innocence.

All of Sukuna's wives, including yourself, have lost their innocence on the first night of being with the man. From the moment he lays you on his bed you are doomed, for that's where he strips you of your purity. Looking at your old friends, you could tell that is what happened.

However, some of the wives you were less familiar with didn't lose just their innocence but their sanity as well. Some of Sukuna's wives had romanticized the relationship they had with him, mixing up fear with love. The woman you had encountered on your second day was proof of that.

After your first encounter with the woman, you had run into her more often. She had tried putting you in your place by somewhat threatening you after your first day of meeting her, saying she was Sukuna's main wife; she was the favorite, and that. you. should watch your back. Unfortunately for you, she wasn't the only one to believe that. Many women believed that Sukuna had an actual relationship with them and loved them, ranking themselves amongst each other, the woman who had borderline threatened you, whose name you didn't bother to learn, being number one.

No one aside from her knew about you, but that changed quickly. After your first couple of months, after getting settled, Sukuna began requesting you to be in his chambers more often. At first, you would only stay nights and leave in the morning but, eventually, Sukuna wouldn't let you leave, forcing you to endure both the nights and mornings in his bed. It wasn't until your belongings were moved to his room did you notice the attention you were starting to get and not just from Sukuna, but the rest of the wives as well.

Women were starting to harass you, disrupting you when you were out doing tasks around the temple. Despite the harassment, you always got back up, not wanting to let those women have the pleasure of seeing you fall apart.

Ultimately, getting sick of the lack of response, the women stopped, some even starting to admire you a little. This is when you started to become the little actress; this is when you really started to climb the ranks.

If you couldn't escape the temple, you were going to make sure you survived; however, there would be some drawbacks to this little plan of yours, but you were determined.

Even if you had to get pregnant, and unknowingly to you that was what a certain someone was after.

Today, after hearing a few rumors from the staff and some of the wives, you figured out why Sukuna had started to keep you around more.

Sukuna was trying to get you pregnant.

Sukuna had grown determined to see your stomach round with his child. He would go rounds upon rounds with you, day and night, trying to get you pregnant, so much so that you had started to feel numb; you could no longer feel anything as he destroyed your body. You didn't moan, whimper, or scream in pain, you would lay there in silence, taking it like the perfect "Little Flower." You would only allow tears to roll down your face, feeling violated. There were moments you would fake a moan or whimper, trying to satisfy Sukuna to make sure he wouldn't grow bored of you and leave you out for the wolves.

The whole situation revolted you, but you were willing to flush away your dignity to survive, however, throwing away your dignity wouldn't solve all your problems.

"Y/n, are you sure you aren't infertile?"

You were shocked when you heard that question leave the lips of one of the younger spouses of Sukuna.

"Excuse me?"

"W-well, I'm only asking because most of the other women here got pregnant after their first night while it's taken you almost a year, does that not bring any suspicions or worry in the slightest?" the girl asked hesitantly, worried that she had offended you.

Your heart rate began to increase quickly. It could be a possibility that you were infertile, but you didn't want to believe that. It wasn't that you wanted to bear Sukuna's child, but if he were to ever think that you were unable to carry an heir, he would kill you on the spot, what were you to do then?

You tried to calm yourself by thinking of your bloodline. You've never heard of any pregnancy issues with any of the women throughout your family, it was quite the opposite in fact. Your family was known for carrying healthy and strong children, especially when it came to curse techniques and energy, so why would you have any issues?

You calmed yourself down a little before responding to the young lady, trying to sound as calm and collected as you possibly could.

"No, I'm confident in my bloodline's lack of infertility, so no, I don't believe I'm infertile."

The girl only nodded, feeling a little ashamed for questioning you, but quickly recovered once you rubbed her shoulder to let her know that she hadn't offended you. However, you couldn't help but look down at her swollen stomach. The sight made you worried, but you couldn't falter now, not after everything you've gone through.

"Y/n-sama, you are being requested."

Shivers went down your spine as you heard the approaching maid. You slowly got up and started to make your way towards the all-to-familiar room, but not without looking back at the young girl's round stomach.

It didn't take you long to make your way to Sukuna's quarters, memorizing how to get there without getting lost. Your hand hovered over the door, hesitant on whether you should go in or run. Coming to a decision, you ignored your instincts and opened the door.

Upon entering, you could see Sukuna hunched over, his hands held together. He raised his head to make eye contact with you, his piercing gaze going straight through your soul. The room was silent, the door shutting being the only thing that was heard.

Sukuna stood up and approached you slowly, causing your anxiety to grow. He grabbed your waist and tugged you to be closer to him, only leaving a small gap between the two of you. He began to disrobe you, pulling the bow of your kimono and watching it fall to the ground. From there he began to examine your body.

Placing his hand on your breast, he began to grope at it. Even though his touches were discomforting, you could sense something was off. Sukuna's touches had no sexual intent, but rather something else. It wasn't until he placed his hand upon your stomach did you realize what he was checking for.

"When is the last time you bled?"

You were confused with his question at first, but once you had caught understanding what he was asking, your eyes widened. Not only were you shocked by his question, but by your own answer.

"Three months ago..." you trailed off, trying to not look at Sukuna's grin.

You looked down at your stomach, your hand hovering over it. What had you done to deserve a fate like this? What sins had you committed? Even though you knew that this is what you needed to survive, you were still disgusted with not just Sukuna, but with yourself as well.

"Well, based on my observation..."

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'Don't say it.'

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"My Little Flower..."

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'Shut the fuck up.'

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"It seems that you're..."

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'You've made your point.'

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"Pregnant."

[leviiattacks]

CASHIER LEVI AND LIKE THE READER IS THE CUSTOMER AND IT’S LIKE THEY HAVE A CRUSH ON EACHTOHER

author note :: honestly not my best at all..... like at all..... this was actually pretty good but the entire draft got deleted and i just lost all my effort but i felt bad for starting it and not completing it for anon so you may take whatever i have managed to salvage. i hope u enjoy it :’( i am extremely sick rn and yeah writing is the only break i am currently getting from anything :-) SO AGAIN I’ M SORRY ANON..... i may write a 10k + word fic on this though so i can redeem myself bc this is just disappointing 😭

word count :: 3.3k

every single thursday you stop by ackermart. maybe it’s because the day is convenient for you or perhaps it’s because of a certain cashier that works the evenings...

HAHA it’s got nothing to do with a cashier why would it have anything to do with a cashier? :-)

today is like any other. you walk through the fresh produce aisle then proceed to make your way towards the bakery section picking up a loaf of bread

it’s stupid, you know it is but... you think you’ve worked up enough courage to speak to him today!!

and who is him you may ask?

levi at till number four. his tired eyes always happen to pierce into yours and his calloused thumbs brush past your skin when you hand him your rewards card

levi is what his bright red name tag says and although he doesn’t look like a levi you’d like to think your crush isn’t stealing someone’s identity so you believe that it’s his real name

anxiously fiddling with your basket you’re beginning to think this was a horrible idea

the girl ahead of you is flirting up a storm with him and although he’s not reciprocating it by any means you still feel deterred

levi bags the last of her groceries and looks up at her when she asks for a way to contact him. he doesn’t look mad... just bored?

“ma’am. this is an ackermart i don’t think it’s appropriate you ask me for my number. the customer service line is listed on our website.”

the woman raises a brow looking completely flabbergasted. okay, if everything before this wasn’t a warning THIS sure was

she stomps off when she realises levi isn’t kidding and you think you’d feel bad for her maybe if she was more respectful about it

“next customer.” levi calls over his shoulder and you shuffle forward pretending to be engrossed in your phone

“cash or card?” he asks plainly.

you hear the BEEP of your groceries being scanned and think on it for a while before replying with “cash”

you’re clearly pretty good at your pretend to be totally into your phone act because levi tries to get your attention but you don’t hear what he has to say till the third time he repeats himself

but even then you’re still unsure what it is he’s said????

looking down you see his hand is stuck out in front of you and now you’re even more confused

faltering for a second you look at his palm and then speak

“um, i guess your hand is nice? it’s pretty big compared to the rest of you actually.”

“i was asking for your cash?” he says and now you look at his palms in mortification

gasping you yANK your hand into your purse as you laugh awkwardly fishing around to find your money

“oh, OH i knew that. just kidding!! i mean- i meant that thing about your hand?? but i thought it was- i funny? yes the joke funny? i’m-”

he leans back into his spinning chair and sighs contently. “you’re not making much sense peaches.”

“pe- peaches??” you repeat. no way you’ve heard that correct

levi lazily points at the abundance of the aforementioned fruit in your grocery bags

“you must love em.”

“i, well yeah i do like peaches but i also like...” um??? what food would make you look sophisticated and professional?

OH YEAH

“FRENCH CUISINE :-)!!!!” you say rather proudly

“...cool. i guess.” levi hands you your grocery bag which is basically an invitation asking for you to get out

he doesn’t seem mad but he’s definitely going to look back at this encounter and laugh his ass off at how stupid you are

hanging your head down low in embarrassment you make your way out towards your car

there’s always next time!! maybe you can practice in the mirror yeah that does sound like it would help!!!

okay so.

it is officially next time.

actually you never got the opportunity to practice in front of the mirror because you chickened out of looking like an idiot even if it was in the privacy of your own home

but!!! you did try to practice some cool pick up lines because who doesn’t like a good pickup line or two??

the two mini milk cartons in your hand and the pack of doughnuts you have tucked under your arm aren’t too heavy so you aren’t too worried about having to wait in the line

for some reason the guy in front of you keeps turning around and glancing at you as if you don’t even exist

you are not casper the ghost

also casper is a little boy and you definitely aren’t a little boy

finally after a good five minutes the man ahead of you is having his stuff scanned but he’s STILL doing it. even levi notices and gives him an odd look which borders annoyance and anger.

“can i pay for your groceries? maybe walk you to your car?” the stranger asks suddenly

so that’s what this is, he’s simply taken an interest in you

my god this is new but it is uncomfortable and you’d rather say no

“oh, i actually walked here and no thanks i can pay for my own. enjoy the rest of your day!!” you hope your white lie is enough to fool the man but instead of agreeing as any other person would he looks majorly deceived

“i saw you in the parking lot.” ok this is getting a bit too uncomfortable for your liking

“c’mon i’m offering to buy your shit too?”

his voice is raising and you’re not sure what exactly you can do but thankfully for you the manager steps in and takes him away before any more threats can be made

the man had taken up so much of your attention you almost forgot levi was even there until you turned back around

“do you want a member of staff to accompany you to your car? it’s getting dark out.” levi’s comment helps ease your nerves and you try to laugh off what just happened

“i’m good :-)” you say shaking a little. you’re unsure if it’s the cold or the fact you still haven’t completely calmed down

“you sure peaches?”

“i haven’t bought any peaches this time.”

“you’re still peaches to me.” your cheeks flush at his confidence

wait, maybe this is your chance. you’re the last person in his line and they’re closing up for the day so...

“could you walk me to my car?”

and to your surprise even before you can take back what you’ve said levi agrees

it stays like that for a while.

every thursday levi walks you to your car by the end of his shift, all the while the two of you exchange a few words together

like last week you asked him what his favourite colour was (he said purple) you’ve learnt about his hobbies (he’s a decent cook), you’ve even found out about some of his own personal problems. he had mentioned suffering with insomnia in passing.

to be honest each and every time he walks you to your car he has to notice that you begin to park further and further away from the front entrance. but if he does notice he doesn’t say a word about it

“is that all you’re checking out?” you ask with a cheeky grin plastered across your face

looking down at your new dress your lopsided grin is far from fading away any time soon. you especially picked this one out after asking levi what his favourite colour was last week

god. this is so embarrassing but never actually have you had a crush this huge

levi who’s sat behind the counter shoots you a look which almost seems to be on the verge of uninterested. he isn’t entertaining this at all or this is just his typical bored face, you can’t really tell

BUT..... you still have a huge crush on him and you aren’t one to give up this easily

for the record you don’t harass him or anything, just the occasional hint is thrown around but he’s either really dense or doesn’t care

his expression does you no favours, you can’t tell what he’s thinking half the time

“you’re always buying energy drinks... might want to cut down on those they’re no good for you.”

warmth blooms in your chest. he’s just saying it to make small talk but the fact he even thinks to bring that up has your heart fluttering

“i- well- yeah i will!! just have a few overdue essays to get over with :-)” twiddling your thumbs together you think that makes your nerves too obvious so you begin to scratch at the back of your neck

if anything is a dead give away it’s your constant neck scratching, thankfully levi hasn’t picked up on it

“so you wore purple today?” his eyes linger on the thin straps of your dress and you feel the goosebumps rise up onto your skin immediately

“oh yeahhhh-”

“did i tell you yellow was my favourite colour last week?” he asks holding up a neon yellow pack of crisps and for the first time you see him smile

he looks so ?!|>\€|^ pretty ?!/)/&

wait?? yellow??

“didn’t you say purple?”

“no?” he crosses his arms playfully over his chest thinking for a bit

“maybe i did but no it’s really yellow.” he says as he hands you your bag

nodding your head you smile “yeahhhh sure it is.”

damn, now you’re going to have to find a yellow dress just to make him revert back to purple because who even likes yellow?? that’s a deal breaker right there??

update

it’s been two weeks!!

and a yellow dress has been found and secured B-)

it’s been a pretty rough day at work and you need to desperately collect a pack of green tea and get going

you don’t know when exactly being a secretary meant you had to babysit your boss’ children but that’s what the last week has entailed

being made to work overtime to this extent has had an effect on you and you’re ready to head home as soon as you swing by ackermart

not seeing levi for a week made you a little :-( because to be honest he’s the highlight of your thursday evening BUT!! you’ll be able to see him today at least

walking in through the entrance you’re met with connie smiling right at you, he holds the door open for you and smile back greeting him

“so you didn’t come last week...?”

it’s weird for him to ask that, after all you don’t really speak to anyone here apart from levi, you’re surprised you’re enough of a regular to be known by name

“oh i didn’t think anyone would notice? but yeah i had to work overtime you know what boss’ are like.” groaning you crouch down and look at the pot noodles on display

“i didn’t notice it. boss man did.”

“boss man?” you ask feeling out of loop

“levi.” connie answers as he hops into the backroom

????

isn’t he just a cashier??

“you still look confused.” connie remarks as he heads back out with a cardboard box full of pringle’s tubes

“levi’s the boss man, this is his store. he literally only ever mans the cash register on thursday evening because of you.”

at that you start laughing because it makes no sense at all to you

there’s no way connie is being serious

“good one.” you say as you stand up with a chicken flavored noodle in your hand

“i’m not kidding?”

turning around you give him a skeptical look

he sighs and shakes his head.

“listen. me and the part timers are tired of making bets on when he’ll give you his number and i bet that it would happen today so if you could confess to each other that would be perfect!!!”

“who said i like-”

“anyone with a brain can tell you both like each other.” he’s rolled his eyes so far into the back of his head you begin to take him a little more seriously now

“i... did i make it that obvious??” you’re directly facing him trying to get out as much information as you can

“yeah. very. at least levi wasn’t as bold.”

“i think you’ve got the wrong end of the stick he definitely doesn’t like me.”

connie gives you an “are you fucking with me?” look and you look away trying to distract yourself with the the canned goods lining the shelves

“he was worried sick when you didn’t come in for the entire week. he even asked me if he scared you away.”

“maybe i’m just his favourite customer?”

“favourite customer my ass he has a crush on YOU. confess.”

playing around with the ends of your sleeves connie sees he’s fighting a losing battle unless he gives you definitive solid proof

“please... i’ll get free barbecue if i win the bet and i’m kinda broke rn :-(” okay, you do want connie to eat well and be treated and maybe this is a good thing. if levi doesn’t like you then you can move on!!

“i’ll think about it.”

before connie can continue talking you make a beeline towards the tea aisle whilst throwing a “see you next time!” over your shoulder.

by the time you’ve gathered all of your groceries your basket is full to the brim. you’ve been lingering as much as you can out of fear but you think you’ve collected just enough courage to ask for his number

looking at the cash register levi is sat there and your shoulders slump. he’s probably going to say no and you’re going to look like a huge loser.

right as you’re about to take a step towards him levi finally spots you and gives you one look before standing up from his seat

“hi!” you wave at him

“...hey!” he smiles wide but he bites it back pretending it was never there in the first place

placing your basket in front of him he eyes what you’ve got

“hm... lots of peaches as per usual peaches.” the nickname that rolls of his tongue makes you tremble a little. will he call you that after you fuck everything up with this stupid confession?

his tongue pokes at the inside of his cheek when he gets to the heart shaped box of chocolates

“a gift for a friend? didn’t know you had those?” he teases as he scans the barcode

“gift for a crush!” you reply back enthusiastically as you dig through your wallet looking for your card

levi doesn’t respond for a few seconds and an awkward silence fills the air. you glance up to see him looking at you open mouthed in shock

“good luck.” he murmurs under his breath he’s not even returning your gaze at this point and is hurriedly scanning through your barcodes

“you okay?” you ask worrying about his mood

“yeah, yeah. great.” he’s quieter than usual.

the rest of your encounter is the same, levi silently bags your groceries and you can’t tell if this is a good or bad response.

just as he’s about to place the heart shaped box into your plastic bag you lunge forward holding his wrist to stop him

“no i don’t need those.”

he cocks his eyebrow upwards trying to analyse your expression and gain an understanding of your thoughts

“don’t tell me you’re chickening out. whoever it is will say yes.” he scoffs as he places the chocolates into the bag handing them over to you with a warm smile

there it is again. the fear returns and you swipe your tongue over your slightly dry lips.

no way.

is he telling you to confess to someone now? so he must not like you?

taking the bag away from him you scratch your neck out of habit and huff feeling frustrated

“he keeps giving me mixed signals.” you say hoping he catches your drift

“give him the chocolates and let him put two and two together. don’t even say anything.” his advice would be great if he weren’t the guy you were trying to confess to in real time

nodding you reach into the bag and bring the box back out before gently placing it in front of levi

“are you serious?” he asks and your face drops seeing the possible displeasure in his eyes

great, connie and the part timers just over analysed he doesn’t like you, obviously he doesn’t like you, why would he like you?

without looking back you hurry out, the embarrassment is eating you away now and the thought of ever returning to ackermart isn’t even feasible in your mind

at this point you may as well change your name, identity, dye your hair, have a few children and wear sunglasses the next time you come back so you look like a soccer mum and not the foolish y/n who thought they had a chance with their cute CASHIER???

god, you probably look like a creep

the sound of footsteps can be heard behind you and labored breaths follow before levi calls out for you

“please wait up.” he grumbles. slowing down your pace you let him catch up to you. he grabs at your wrist and sighs in relief

turning you see him savour the air

is this the part where he confesses he likes you too or—

“your receipt you forgot it.” he gasps as he opens your hand for you and places it into your palm

oh.

fingers clasping shut onto the paper you feel the humiliation seep into your pores

this.

is.

the.

worst.

moment.

of.

your.

life.

“open it.” he offer you a boyish smile and your nerves don’t let you find comfort in it

you grimace as you fold it open, you’re imagining he’s charged you an extra £100 for having unwanted feelings for him and if that’s the case you’ll die on the spot

but instead your eyes light up in joy. you’re pleasantly surprised

...

inside of the receipt is his phone number haphazardly sprawled across in black biro - you even double check by comparing it to the number for the customer service helpline

hello??

HELLO.?.!/)£ HIS NUMBER???

“if you just wanted to return the chocolate this is embarrassing.” he’s the one who’s now scratching at his neck and you find that he’s endearing this way

the streetlight from above illuminates him, the shadows cast over his face and his brows aren’t furrowed as they usually are

you open your mouth to reply but connie cuts you off unintentionally. he can be heard YELLING into his phone ecstatic that his plan has worked out

“I WIN!!! HA BBQ’S ON YOU JEAN!! MUST SUCK TO BE YOU.”

you and levi look at each other and laugh, reassuring the other of what has just happened.

well...

you guess this is the start of something new? maybe??

:-)

[brainbuffering]

12 Days of Manga (2022)

Day 6: Top 3 Josei

1) I want to be a Wall by Honoami Shirano from YenPress (T: Emma Schumacker L: Alexis Eckerman) 

[ID: English Cover for Vol 1 of “I want to be a wall” A woman and a man in traditonal japanese wedding garb sit next to each other, but facing different directions. The woman looks nervous and anxious, the man sad and stoic. A pink knot is behind them.]

“Any love story aficionado will say that the key to a successful couple is intense desire for one another—but what if the characters in question are an asexual woman with a passion for Boys Love stories and a gay man whose heart forever belongs to his oblivious childhood friend? Although romance will never be in the cards for newlyweds Yuriko and Gakurouta, the bond blossoming between them promises to be a wonderful relationship—the likes of which neither has ever experienced before...”

Not only is this series my top Josei of the year, it’s probably my favourite new series of the year full stop!

The notion of a Lavender Marriage, that is to say, a marriage between two queer people (usually a man and a woman) in order to disguise the fact that they’re queer from society, is not something that is explored that much in media and when it is the focus is on the tragedy of being forced into that situation. What I’m enjoying here though, is that whilst the tragedy of needing to bow to social pressure isn’t diminished, we’re also shown the beauty of queer solidarity, and the development of a wonderful queer-platonic relationship. I’m really looking forward to watching these two fall in love in the deep felt platonic sense, and whilst I naturally want Gakurouta to find romantic love with another man, I’m excited to see him open up more to Yuriko. I want them to find joy and laughter together too.

There’s an Alan Bennet Quote that goes:  “The best moments in reading are when you come across something – a thought, a feeling, a way of looking at things – which you had thought special and particular to you. Now here it is, set down by someone else, a person you have never met, someone even who is long dead. And it is as if a hand has come out and taken yours.”   That’s what reading this book felt like. As though i wasn’t completely alone, as though there were people out there who cared about me, who saw the world as I did, and would gently hold my hand as the world collapses around us. 

From an Asexual perspective, Yuriko’s coming out story felt deeply resonante. I was almost in tears from how relateable it was. We’re shown just how isolated she felt by her friends casually cruel words and rejections, and that just because she’s Asexual doesn’t mean she doesn’t suffer in a heteronormative society. The solidarity on display between her and the Gakurouta is so delightful to behold, and I am desperate to know what happens next. I’m especially interested in how they came to meet and agree to this arangement to begin with, but for that I shall have to sit and be patient! That’s the problem with reading a brand new licence, you can’t just drop all your money there and then and read everything in existance! You have to wait....

Volume two is set for release in January, and I don’t think I could be MORE hyped for this slice of life not-romance. More series like this please!

2) The Yakuza’s Guide To Baby Sitting by Tsukiya from Kaiten Books (T: Jenny McKeon L: Viet Phuong Vu E: David Musto)

[ID: English Cover of Vol 1 of Yakuza’s Guide to Babysitting, Kirishima wears a white shirt and black suit trousers. In one hand he has a red PE Kit Bag, and a yellow tote bag with a bunny print on it with a rolled up piece of paper inside. Yakae gently holds his other hand by the finger. She is wearing her school uniform, nervously holding onto the strap of her school bag and looking away from Kirishima.]

“WHO’S YOUR NANNY? Kirishima Tooru is the right-hand man of the Sakuragi crime family. For him, the job is a perfect excuse to let his violent instincts run wild, earning him the nickname “the Demon of Sakuragi”. It seems like nothing will stand in the way of his vicious nature. But then one day, he receives an assignment like never before from the boss—babysitting his daughter! This is the heartwarming (or is it bloodcurdling?) story of a little girl and her yakuza caretaker!”

I got Volume 1 for free as part of a promotion for the anime which came out this year too, and after reading it I immediately went and bought the next two. Now I’m anxiously updating my lists to find out when Vol 6 is going to come out...

There isn’t much to this series. It’s your very basic Yakuza DILF Found Family Manga, but it is an EXCELLENT one. I love the different family dynamics, and I love reading about all these different big fearsome men who love thieir wives and daughters. It’s so sweet and has so much heart, plus lots of men arm deep in blood and violence. Should that also be your jam.

Where as I dropped “Way of the House Husband” after Vol 5 for becoming too slow paced and repetative, what I’m loving about Guide to Babysitting is that we’re allowed to see actual character development! Be that insight into a characters past to provide context for their current behaviour, or just to see the relationship between Yaeka and her father begin to heal after so much hurt for so long. I’ve cried just as much as I’ve laughed reading this series which is all you really want from a slice of life!

Me being me, I’ve also had a a lot of fun to compare the localisation of the manga and the anime, and I have to say I’m really enjoying McKean’s version best. The characters feel as though they each have a unique voice and the way they write the jokes really helps make them hit! I’m watching the anime in the dub, and greatly enjoying it in general! There's been some great meta jokes of late too, making the most of Kirishima and Tatsu (from Way of the Househusband) share an english Voice Actor. I would highly recommend it to anyone in need of something to look forward to on a Thursday that isn’t a 4 hour long live play DND web series.

Yakuza’s Guide to Babysitting might not be anything special to anyone else, but its special to me! And that’s what matters most.

3) Knight of the Ice by Yayoi Ogawa from Kodansha (T: Rose Padgett L: Jennifer Skarupa E: Tiff Joshua, TJ Ferentini) 

[ID: English cover of Knight of the Ice Vol 1: Kokoro poses in a black ice skating outfit with lace sleeves and diamond buttons. There are sparkles behind him.]

“A rom-com manga on ice, perfect for fans of Princess Jellyfish and Wotakoi. Kokoro is the talk of the figure-skating world, winning trophies and hearts. But little do they know... he's actually a huge nerd! From the beloved creator of You're My Pet (Tramps Like Us).

Chitose is a serious young woman, working for the health magazine SASSO. Or at least, she would be, if she wasn't constantly getting distracted by her childhood friend, international figure skating star Kokoro Kijinami! In the public eye and on the ice, Kokoro is a gallant, flawless knight, but behind his glittery costumes and breathtaking spins lies a secret: he's actually a hopeless romantic otaku, who can only land his quad jumps when Chitose is on hand to recite a spell from his favorite magical girl anime!”

Speaking of series that are complete and you can just drop all your money on in one go and binge to your heart’s content....

Okay, so I didn’t drop all my money and I’ve only read 7/11 Volumes but that is just a sign of my self restraint! You should all be very proud of me.

I’d seen “Knight of the Ice” spoken about before on TikTok and knew it to be popular, but didn’t think much of it other than that it sounded like Yuri on Ice but for Straight People. However when it was in a Kodansha Sale for less than a fiver, I thought I would give it a go! It was boiling hot. There was ice. Maybe looking at it would help cool me down?

What I found was a wonderful, heartfelt, grown up sports romance. Kokoro and Chitose are delightful in their childhood-friends-to-lovers trope, neither sure what to make of their lives now they’re actually in a relationhip, and what things are actually going to change between them now they've finallyadmittedtheir feelings. Kokoro's role as a minor celebrity helps add some cliche drama that might not be everyone's cup of tea, but which I found delightfully tropey and fun. The series is supported by a whole cast of zany characters, meaning that it never takes itself too seriously for too long.

Ogawa’s sense of humour definetly appeals to me, and I was happy to see the casual inclusion of a trans character! Sure, he’s a side character without much to do, but I’ll take what I can get in these TERF filled days. And honesty, I'm really impressed that they included a positive, realistic depiction of a Trans Person given that this was furst written in 2013! (Note: 3 years before YOI)

Like with a lot of my favourties, I don’t think that this series necessarily has anything important to say or do. I don’t think it needs to be studied under a microscope and celebrated as the pinacle of comics creation... but I had FUN! It was entertaining! It made me laugh, it made me flail, it makes me keep coming back and that’s all I need from a sports romance manga.

The series seems to often be in Kodansha’s digital sales, so I won’t be rushing out to finish the series right this second, but I will be constantly checking my Bookwalker Wish List just in case....

[casually-slips-into-coma]

An Essay (sort of) Explaining the Many Grievances I Have With Debbie Gallagher

Once again, Debbie is the fucking worst.

I’ve been wanting to write out my feelings towards her character for a fucking minute now just so that I have a full concise list. Now, I can talk about how Debbie has a constant need for attention, or how her character has become someone unrecognizable in the past few seasons, or how she’s a terrible mother, but what I really want to focus on is the center of my issues with her: her sexuality. Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t about to be a homophobic rant or anything. I just think her queer development has been written terribly and that should be addressed.

Too often I see people praising queer characters or relationships based solely on the fact that they are queer, and as a member of the community, I get it. I am also starved for representation. This, however, does not mean I’m going to settle for annoying, poorly written characters.

Why Make Debbie Queer?

The first thing I want to address is why suddenly develop a WLW storyline for her. Given that Debbie started as a little girl on the show, this gives the writers a lot of opportunity to give a character like that interesting storylines because she does not yet have a solid personality. It gives writers the liberty to take her story anywhere they want to without the constraints of established character because she, as a person, is still developing into adulthood. The show runners unfortunately dropped the ball with this.

From season 4 and onwards was when Debbie began showing interest in dating, sex, and romance having just turned the corner to puberty. From then up until season 9, she has shown exclusive interest in men. It isn’t until Alex the welder that Debbie deviates from this path. Alex is portrayed as a stud who confuses Debbie. I am inclined to believe that Debbie was originally attracted to her because she was masculine and therefore close enough to the people Debbie had previous experience with.

This arc was treated very much as Debbie experimenting with her sexuality, something that Alex also ends up realizing after Debbie tells her that having sex with a girl is “not that bad” and “like having sex with yourself” (S9E4). Once this storyline wrapped up (with Debbie shouting “you make me want cock again”) the writers powered through, adamant about Debbie now being a lesbian.

I have two theories as to why they’ve been fighting so hard for her queerness.

1) This was around the time that Cam was leaving Shameless. This obviously didn’t end up happening, but I was under the impression that the writers were freaking out at losing their token gay character and needed to fill that position. When Cam ended up staying, they were stuck with a queer Debbie storyline and decided to just go with it.

2) Shameless was planning on doing a WLW storyline regardless of Cam’s choice to leave and were originally going to give it to Fiona and her lesbian tenant that she had a close relationship and a lot of chemistry with, but Emmy Rossum wanted to move on from Shameless, and so they pivoted and gave the arc to Debbie, a character that was not supposed to be moved in that direction and so her new sexuality seemingly came out of nowhere. Fiona as a bisexual character would have made sense. Debbie still does not.

Shameless’s Awkward Relationship With Bisexuality

One of the biggest issues I have with Debbie is her insistence on being a lesbian. Lesbianism doesn’t come out of nowhere. Bisexuality, however, can. When you grow up being told that you are supposed to feel attraction to men, and you genuinely do feel attraction to men (which Debbie has expressed in past seasons/episodes) it’s easy to ignore your attraction to women and write it off as something that either isn’t a big deal, or something that isn’t there. It’s a lot more confusing than being strictly at one end of the spectrum. It would have been so much more believable if they had simply made Debbie bisexual. Unsurprisingly, they didn’t because the show has a history with bi erasure.

Bisexuality has been treated badly all throughout Shameless, used as a vengeful plot device back in the earlier seasons where Monica was only ever with women when unmedicated. Then in Season 7 when Ian’s boyfriend Caleb cheated on him with a woman (enforcing the stereotype of bisexuals being unfaithful) Ian, possibly acting out of anger or ignorance, said things like “only women are bisexual. When a man says he’s bisexual he’s really just gay”. The only semi positive bisexual representation on the show was Svetlana and Vee when they were in a poly relationship with Kev (though I also think that storyline wasn’t handled as well as it could’ve been).

This fight against the bisexual label in media is not a new one but it is also a harmful stance to take when writing a sexually fluid character. Debbie declaring that she is, in fact, a lesbian after waxing poetic about how Matty had a big dick and Derek had a great body and knew what he was doing is not the way to go. 

You could argue that Debbie, like many other queer women, is an unfortunate victim of compulsory heterosexuality, but frankly I don’t think the writers are well versed enough in queer theory for that to be a possibility.

Debbie as The White Feminist

Debbie is the pinnacle of white feminism. It’s an unfortunate thought that has occurred to me a few times throughout the show. She talks a big game as a man hater and someone after the equal treatment of women but she herself participates in a lot of problematic and anti feminist behavior.

For one, she r*ped Matty back in season 5 when he was blacked out and unconscious. This was a point in the story that was glossed over and one where she suffered no repercussions other than Matty no longer wanting to be around her. It was explained in the show that Debbie didn’t realize what she did was wrong until after she was explicitly told so because she was maybe 14 when it happened (not 100% on the age Shameless is very inconsistent about timelines). It was treated as somewhat of a punchline, something that Shameless has unfortunately done more than once when referring to male sexual assault (Mickey’s r*pe, Liam in season 10 ((i think??)) and in this latest season, Carl) but that is a different topic. 

There was also the time in which she lied to her boyfriend about being on birth control so she could trap him into a relationship with pregnancy (which also counts as r*pe!!) Good on Derek for getting out of that.

Debbie has also been pro-life in the past. Now I understand this was when Fiona was pressuring her into aborting her pregnancy, and as a pro choicer myself, I believe that Debbie was fully in her right to have bodily autonomy and go through with the pregnancy. This isn’t where the issue lies. It’s when Fiona finds out that she too is pregnant and tells Debbie that she wants an abortion that Debbie accuses her of “killing her baby”. Again, her behavior could be explained by her age given that Debbie was still a young teen during this time.

When her actions as a White Feminist become less excusable is mostly in the latest season. Her relationship with Sandy is one that I’m not really happy with because Debbie doesn’t deserve her.

Recently, it has been revealed that Sandy is actually married to a man and has a son. It’s explained that she was basically married off against her will at the age of 15 to a man twice her age. This implies that the product of the marriage, her son, was most likely conceived through dubious consent (or worse) at the hands of an adult when she was just a kid. Just because Debbie thinks that Sandy’s husband “seems nice” does not give her the right to try and make a victim of grooming feel bad about not wanting to be with her abuser. While I understand that Sandy’s son has no fault in how he came into the world, I’m still gonna side with Sandy when it comes to having to take care of a child she didn’t want and who is most likely a source of trauma for her. It’s not difficult to sympathize with Sandy and see that she’s clearly gone through something fucked up and Debbie, despite claiming to love and support her, AND despite her dumb white feminist arc about wanting equal pay and all that jazz, turns her back on the girls supporting girls aspect of feminism.

This isn’t even mentioning how shitty it was to just leave Franny by herself and assume that one of her siblings would take her to school and pick her up and stuff as if they don’t all have separate lives. She talks a lot about being a good mother but decided to “let off some steam” by fucking off to a gay bar to get loaded on coke and fuck a gay man (which wtf thats not a thing that really happens with casual coke but whatever I guess). Once she realized she fucked up, instead of taking responsibility she decided to paint herself as the victim as well as spew offensive bullshit about how she “probably has AIDS now” because of her sexual encounter with a gay man. No lesbian in their right fucking mind would ever say that because as members of the LGBTQ+ community, you are at least a tiny bit informed as to how devastating and tragic the AIDS crisis was for queer people.

(I also have an issue with how Debbie capitalized on her felony as a sex offender and her sexuality to start her Hot Lesbian Convict business but I think that’s enough said.)

Blame the writers

The show got almost an entirely new cast of writers after season 7 which is why the show feels more like a sitcom with low stakes and no consequences rather than a drama, but if there is a queer writer on the team it’s not very evident. Even the better half of the queer relationship story, Ian and Mickey, I don’t feel has really been done justice since the change in writers. It’s just become painfully obvious that the actress is a straight girl playing a gay character (not to mention I have never seen any chemistry between her and all of her female love interests). I don’t fault Emma Kenney (the actress) for this. I actually really like her as a person and I like the videos she makes about the cast and such, and I think she does her best with the script she’s given. My complaints with Debbie are targeted entirely towards the writers.

This brings me to my final point. I need them to let Debbie be alone. Her whole thing for the second half of the season has been that she clearly has abandonment issues and is afraid of being alone. It’s why she’s so adamant about keeping the house and fighting with Lip about it (I’m actually on Debbie’s side for that one but that’s besides the point). They had her and Sandy break up which leaves Debbie to spiral further into her loneliness. From a writing point of view, it makes sense to take this opportunity to give her an arc in which she can overcome that and feel comfortable with herself so that she can move on as an adult instead of jumping into a new relationship. This is especially true since this is quite literally the last season ever of the show and any character development needs to be wrapped up. Introducing a new character out of nowhere does not give the viewers enough time to actually get invested in the new relationship. It’s also unfair to Debbie’s character because her arc is going to feel incomplete.

Anyway,,,,,,uuuhhhhh,,,,,feel free to add on if u want lmao

[spooderboyandtincan]

You Came Back to Me

TW: Poisoning, hospitals

Read on Ao3

Peter knew it was a waste to try to tame his curls. No matter how much gel he used (which must have been at least a full bottle by now) his hair would not stay flat. 

Peter gave a frustrated sigh and threw down the comb in surrender. Not even a second later, as if he had somehow sensed his absolute agony, Tony strolled in.

“Hey, kiddo.” Tony grinned at him. “Were you going for the half-drowned puppy look on purpose? Is this a new style I don’t know about?” he teased, tweaking one of his greasy curls gently.

Peter rolled his eyes and grabbed a towel to get some of the gel out. “I hate this stuff,” he grumbled, grimacing at his reflection in the mirror. He did look like a half-drowned puppy, not that he would ever admit it. Tony chuckled and gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze and Peter looked up at him.

Tony’s hair was styled so perfectly that each individual hair was in place. His beard was combed and his sunglasses were folded in the front pocket of his smooth, cream colored Armani suit, and around his neck was a light, lavender tie. To Peter’s astonishment, he had managed to get ready in less than an hour. 

Peter leaned into his father figure’s chest, breathing in the scent of his cologne, old spice, motor oil and something distinctly Tony that always soothed his nerves. 

“How long is the party gonna be?” he mumbled into his chest. 

“As long as we can suffer,” Tony joked, then in a softer tone, “We can leave whenever you want, okay? Just let me know and we’ll go.”

“M’kay.” He nodded, feeling a little relieved. He would much rather have a movie night and fall asleep in Tony’s arms than be at a loud, crowded party full of snobby rich people, and he knew Mr. Stark felt the same. But from what he had accidentally overhead of Tony’s conversation over the phone with Pepper, it was pretty important that Tony came to represent Stark Industries, especially because Pepper had to be out of the country that week. 

“Let’s get your suit,” Tony said. They walked into his bedroom, and Peter sighed in relief at the simple black suit that was on the bed. He thought that Tony might have bought him an expensive Armani suit or a Tom Ford, but he hadn’t. Thank goodness. If he had, Peter probably would have passed out right then and there. 

When Peter came out of the bathroom, fumbling with his tie, Tony nearly cooed. When changing, his curls had gone completely rogue and were frizzing about. His socks were bright purple with pink stars and were rather blinding compared to the dark suit. Peter gave up on the tie and handed it to Tony, his big bambi eyes wide and pleading for help. 

Tony grinned fondly and quickly looped the fabric around his kid’s neck, easily knotting it into a perfect tie. “There. Signature Tony Stark.” He patted his shoulder. 

Peter rolled his eyes. “You can’t have a style for a tie, Mr. Stark.”

“Sure I can. Draw a goatee on it and it’ll be a new fashion. I guarantee it.”  

Peter snickered and they headed down to the garage where Happy was waiting. Tony grabbed a juice box and a granola bar for Peter and took the boy’s coat from the closet (Peter insisted he didn’t need it but knew he probably would). 

“Hey, Happy,” Tony greeted. The driver looked up. 

“About time,” Happy grumbled, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “Get in here, we need to go!”

Tony chuckled at the disgruntled driver. “We can be fashionably late.” He hopped in the backseat with his kid and put an arm around his shoulders.

“No, we goddamn can’t!” Happy grumbled to himself, though his words were quite audible. He shifted the car into reverse and backed out of the garage. 

“Watch your language, there’s a kid,” Tony warned, cupping his hands over Peter’s ears. Peter rolled his eyes.

Once they reached the building where the party was being held, th father-and-son-duo stayed back while Happy cleared away crowds of paparazzi that had materialized all around the car. 

“Remember, kiddo,” Tony said. “We can leave anytime you want.” He squeezed the boy’s knee reassuringly. 

“‘Kay.” Peter smiled nervously. 

“You ready?” 

Peter bit his lip. “I think so.” He took a deep breath.

“We don’t have to go, baby,” Tony murmured, tracing a finger along his cheek bone. “Do you wanna go back home and just watch a movie?”

Peter really just wanted to nod his head and drive back to the compound and have a nice movie night with Tony. His cheeks turned red. How embarrassing would that be? Pulling up to your own party and then leaving. He didn’t want to embarrass Mr. Stark. It couldn’t be that bad. It would probably be fun (he doubted that, but maybe it would be). Peter took a deep breath. “I’m okay. I’m ready.”

“Alright.” Tony gave him a loving smile. “I’m proud of you, kiddo.”

“Thanks.” Tony gave his hand a squeeze and opened the door, hurrying around the back of the car to open Peter’s door and promptly ignoring the renewed bright flashing and clicking of cameras.

“Okay,” he whispered, looping an arm around the boy’s shoulders. “Let’s do this.” He slid on his sunglasses and they started down the red carpet. Happy hovered behind them, glaring at anyone who dared to get too close. 

Peter’s heart was beating so fast he could barely hear the separate beats. He began to feel slightly nauseous. He was already starting to regret his decision to stay. 

Peter subconsciously leaned further into Tony as they entered the building. People’s attention turned to them, and not-so-subtle gasps and murmurs buzzed through the crowd.

Tony wanted nothing more than to glare at these idiotic people and lead Peter right back to the car and back home. However, he was sure Pepper was right that this would be a good experience for his kid, and he knew they would have fun once most of the crowds dissipated. 

(Plus, Pepper would kill him if he left. She would have his ass hanging on the mantle in place of the Christmas stockings Peter had insisted they put up already.)

Happy clapped him on the shoulder and informed him was going to go patrol the perimeter. Tony dryly told him to “have fun,” and Peter waved as he stalked off.

“Tony! Who’s the kid?” a bright voice called. Peter flinched and inched behind the man as they turned around, a little nervous. 

A tall, middle-aged woman with straight blonde hair and a silvery dress rushed up to them. She had even, pearly teeth that shone brightly when she gave them a smile. “Tony! Hi!” she said breathlessly. “How are you doing? I’m Stephanie Wright.” 

Tony shook her gloved hand. “Pleasure.”

“And who are you, hon?” Stephanie bent down so her face hovered uncomfortably close to Peter’s. 

He scooted backward slightly and tried to give her a charming smile like Tony had. “I’m Mr. Stark’s personal intern.”

“Oh, isn’t that wonderful?” she cried, far too enthusiastic in Peter's opinion. “You must be pretty smart!” 

Peter smiled uncomfortably. Every instinct in him was screaming at him to get away. Something about this lady was definitely off, and he didn’t want to stick around to find out what it was.

“Why don’t we go get a drink, kiddo?” Tony interrupted, starting to lead him away from Stephanie. Peter knew he had sensed his discomfort and wanted to get him away. 

Stephanie gave a piercing laugh and, to the pair’s displeasure, followed them. “Oh, we must think alike. I’ve been craving champagne all night. I hope you aren’t giving this poor kid alcohol, Tony.”

Peter frowned. He knew Tony would never even think of it. Even talking about alcohol could make the man uncomfortable, so he tried to think of something to change the topic. 

“Did you know there’s a turtle that pees through its mouth?” he blurted. 

Peter’s face turned crimson red. Of all the things to come out of his mouth, why did it have to be that? 

Stephanie gave him a strange look and stayed silent in suppressed disgust, but Tony snorted and stuffed his fist in his mouth to keep from laughing. He squeezed the back of Peter’s neck gently to let him know he wasn’t laughing at him, but at Stephanie’s hilarious expression. Peter groaned internally and wished he could die on the spot.

Tony and Peter headed to the bar, chatting happily, but Stephanie narrowed her eyes and forced her way through some disgruntled young ladies so she stood a few yards from them. She watched Tony hand the kid a menu. He pointed to something she couldn’t see, which the man nodded at and flagged down a waiter.

She couldn't hear what he said but assumed Tony had ordered two of the same drink from the two fingers he held up. The bartender seemed to have prioritized their drinks (of course he had, that was Tony Stark) because not even five minutes later he rushed to them with two overflowing glasses of cherry red liquid on a silver platter. 

Stephanie saw her chance, and she took it.

She ran towards Tony with a grin on her face, waving to get his attention. Just before she reached them, she pretended to trip in her silver high heels and bumped into Tony. “Oh my god,” she laughed, faking embarrassment. “I’m so clumsy, sorry.” 

“No problem,” Tony said politely. The drink hadn’t splashed onto his expensive suit. In fact, it hadn’t sloshed out of the cup at all. He handed the glass to his kid, who was looking strangely at the tall woman. 

You idiot! Stephanie cursed Tony silently. You fucking idiot! That was for you, not the kid! She took a deep breath. I can make it up later, she told herself. Relax and go with it. I can get the kid first and then later, him. 

Feeling assured, she grinned. “Sorry about that, Tony. Glad it didn’t leave any stains!” Stephanie suddenly looked to her purse and dug through it till she pulled out her phone. “Oh. My fiancé is here somewhere and he’s trying to find me.” She sighed. In reality, she had received no text and didn’t even have a fiancé, but she needed to get a safe distance away before the kid took a drink from his Shirley Temple. “Well, I should go. It was wonderful meeting you Tony- you too Peter.”

“Yeah,” Tony said as the woman hurried off. “Huh. That was weird.” Peter shrugged and laughed. Tony ruffled his curls and they set down next to each other at a small table.

“How’s that Shirley Temple?” he asked when Peter took his first large gulp.

“Good!” he answered truthfully. Tony smiled fondly at him and reached out to ruffle his hair. 

Peter took another sip, expecting his dry throat to be blissfully cleared by the sweet cherry flavored drink.

Instead, the liquid that trickled down his throat stung and burned. He choked silently and took another drink, hoping it would help.

The burning in his throat only grew. He felt like his stomach was  turning inside out and his chest had been stabbed with needle-sharp knives. The back of his neck prickled and he felt like he was in the middle of a blizzard but also in a desert with the sun directly overhead at the same time.

He tried to reach for Tony, desperately needing the man’s comforting arms around him, but his arm and fingers would move. All that came out of his mouth was a strained gasp when he tried to get his attention.

Tony was texting Happy about the potentially dangerous Stephanie who had been following them all evening, when he heard a thud and the sound of glass shattering.

He whirled around. “Peter!” 

One moment he was sitting in a squishy, comfortable chair, the next kneeling on the ground next to his kid’s small form, the chair falling to the ground loudly behind him. 

“Peter?! Peter, baby!” There were glasses being set down and plates clattering on tables as people near them noticed the terrified billionaire. Tony quickly pulled off the boy’s tie and gathered him in his arms and cradled him close, his focus on his kid and nothing else. Peter’s head flopped against his chest limply, his face clammy and turning gray, his chest heaving with every strained breath. Tony cupped his cheek and smoothed his thumb over the hollows under his eyes. “Peter?” His voice came out in a whisper instead of a terrified cry. Tony didn’t know what to do. 

Peter clawed at the man’s chest, his chest feeling as heavy as lead. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe. Peter choked and gasped, coughing and trying frantically to get air into his lungs.

Tony’s blurry face hovered above him. He could tell the man’s lips were moving quickly, could feel his heart beating a mile per minute in terror and panic, but he couldn’t hear anything except a blur of shouting and running. 

Tony, sirens, heartbeat, Tony, kiss on his forehead, hand in his curls, shouting, shouting, sirens getting louder, Tony getting louder, heartbeat, glass, high heels running, Tony, sobbing, tears falling to his hair- not his tears, Tony’s tears. He didn’t want Tony to cry. “Don’t cry,” he tried to say, but nothing came out of his mouth but a strangled wheeze.  

Bubbles foamed around his mouth. The tears fell more rapidly and the strong arms around him were almost painfully tight. A kiss to the forehead- more words. Another kiss, this time on the cheek. Gentle, calloused fingers, tears, voices- different voices, not just Tony’s. He wanted Tony. 

And- Painpainpain. Suddenly Peter was drowning in white hot agony. Make it stop makeitstopmakeitstop. His teeth were grinding together, Tony was crying, words of comfort were coming out of the man’s mouth but Peter couldn’t understand them- 

Pain. Great waves of pain washed over him. Make it stop, Tony, please. This time the tears were his own. Soothing hands in his hair- he could barely feel them. Too much. Too much everything. Make it stop! He needed it to stop. Toomuchtoomuch. Too much pain. Please. Please. 

That was a word coming from Tony’s mouth. Please. 

Please.

Please.

The pain stopped. 

Everything stopped. 

~~~~~

Tony felt like throwing up. His heart was beating so fast it felt more like an erratic hum. His hands shook violently and had he not been sitting in an uncomfortable plastic chair, he knew he would have collapsed long ago. His suit was dirty and wet with tears- not that he cared.

He dropped his forehead into his hands.

When Tony closed his eyes, all he could see was the cold, pale face cradled against his palm that was so unlike his beautiful, warm, rosy-cheeked kid. 

He leapt to his feet and began pacing the length of the medbay waiting room, fear flooding through his veins, every instinct in him telling him to move, to get to Peter, to protect his kid. 

But he fucking couldn’t, he couldn’t, because Peter was down the hall in a room filled with strangers, and oh god, Peter had been poisoned. His kid could be dying and he was stuck out here, so far away, and he couldn’t even fucking hold him and brush his fingers through his soft curls and tell Peter he had to stay. He had to. 

Tony knew he couldn’t live without his kid. Peter was his everything- he couldn't do this without him. He needed Peter- and Tony knew he couldn’t survive without him. 

He slid down the wall weakly, his breaths quickening. “Oh my god,” he whispered. “Peter, oh my god. I’m right here, Peter. Don’t leave me, baby, please.” He didn’t bother to wipe the tears trickling down his cheeks. “Don’t make me lose him, oh god please, I can’t. I can’t.” 

Tony began to sob. He pressed his hands against his face to muffle his loud cries. 

Peter, eyes closed, not breathing. Looking dead. Face gray and pale. His own anguished sobs flooding his ears as he hugged the boy to his chest.  

Peter, on a gurney, taken away from Tony before he could process that his kid wasn’t in his arms anymore. 

Too terrified and stunned to move- then sprinting after him and trying to fight through the doctors and nurses to get to Peter. Happy and two others struggling to hold him back.

“Tony,” said Dr. Cho, the door swinging shut behind her. “Are you okay?”

He spun around so fast he could hear his neck crack. Tony lurched to his feet, heart pounding. “Peter,” he croaked, blood draining from his face.

She gave him a weary smile. “He’s okay, Tony. You can see him now. He’s awake, actually, but he’s really out of it.”

Tony hadn’t processed even half of her words before he was running. He dodged past her and sprinted down the hall, skidding into a familiar room.

“Peter…” he breathed, his eyes blurred with tears. 

Before he knew it, Tony was at his kid’s side, sobs racking his chest. He gently lifted the disoriented boy into his arms, carefully avoiding the oxygen mask strapped to his precious face, and rocked him back and forth. 

He wept into Peter’s hair, pressing kisses against his curls in between sobs. “You came back to me,” Tony cried. “You came back, you came back. My Peter, my baby, you came back to me.” He squeezed Peter gently. “I thought I lost you, I thought you were gone- I- I can’t, I can’t do this without you, I-”

Tony took a long, deep breath, broken with small cries. He cupped Peter’s confused, tired, still far too pale face. “I don’t- I- oh baby, thank god you’re okay.” Tony tried not to burst into another round of tears.

He squeezed his kid close and pressed a long, tender kiss to his forehead. “My sweet boy,” Tony murmured. He ran his fingers through Peter’s soft curls.

Peter blinked up at him, a slight crease between his eyebrows. His lips parted, trying to form words, but Tony gently stopped him.

“Shh, shh, baby, no talking yet, okay?” He tapped the plastic of the oxygen mask. “We need to keep this mask on to make sure you get enough air, see? Just rest for me, bambino, I’ve got you.” Tony sniffled and tried to give him a reassuring smile, discreetly wiping away the tears that had pooled in his eyes. He wasn’t sure if Peter had even processed what he’d said, but he seemed to relax and practically melted in his arms. 

Tony felt such overwhelming relief washing over him as he watched Peter’s chest rise steadily. Wiping his eyes again, he pressed his lips to Peter’s forehead and let his eyes close for a long moment, desperately trying not to think about how close he had been to losing his baby. 

There was a quiet sniffle, and his eyes flew open, his heart racing once again. “Peter? Peter, baby?” Tony was panic-stricken to find a pearly tear running down his face. 

“What’s wrong? Are you hurting?” He wiped Peter’s tears away with the pad of his thumb. “What is it, bubba? Should I get a doctor?”

Peter shook his head, a squeak coming from his throat even though he was trying hard not to cry. He tapped his pointer finger on the rough skin of Tony’s hand, hoping he would get the message.

... -.-. .- .-. -.--

Scary

Tony’s eyes softened. “Oh baby.” He squeezed his hand comfortingly and traced his thumb along the boy’s cheek. Peter sniffed again. “I know, Petey, I was scared too,” he murmured. He still was, but that was beside the fact. “But I promise you’re okay baby, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, I promise.”  

.--. --- .. ... --- -.

Poison

Tony flinched and held his kid tight. Peter was far more coherent than he had thought. “Yeah, sweetheart. Poison.” His voice was gravelly and Tony looked to the wall while he tried to pull himself together. “I was so scared I was gonna lose you,” he whispered.

-.. .. -.. -. .----. -

Didn’t

Tony grinned tearily but couldn’t find any words. He sniffed and ran his fingers through the boy’s hair, stroking his soft curls. Peter’s eyes were slowly drooping shut- which terrified him. 

The inventor knew that his baby was stable and safe and breathing- but he couldn’t get the image of Peter’s sheet-white, still body out of his mind. 

Tony took a deep breath to steel himself and smiled down at his kid. “You can sleep now, bubba. I’ll be here the whole time. It’s okay.” He brushed a finger over Peter’s eyelids. “I love you, baby,” he whispered, softly kissing his forehead. 

Peter closed his eyes and soon his breaths were slow and steady. Tony’s gaze was full of love as he cradled his sleeping kid. “I love you,” he repeated a little hysterically, somehow aching for the boy, even though he was already in his protective embrace. “I love you.” Tony pressed his lips against his temple for a long while. 

Ever so gently, he lowered Peter to the mattress, careful not to jostle the sickly boy. He moved around so that Peter’s head was cradled in his lap and pulled the covers to his chin, adjusting a spare pillow behind his back despite the padded headboard.

The inventor looked up at a quiet knock on the door. Helen stepped in, giving the pair a fond smile. 

“How’s he doing?” she asked, brushing her hair out of her face, then taking Peter’s wrist and checking his pulse. 

Tony massaged his forehead and sighed. “I…. He responded to me. Um... he used morse code.” He gave a strained chuckle. “He’s so goddamn smart.” 

“The smartest of us all.” Helen looked scrutinously at him. “And how are you?”

He snorted. “Honestly? Like I got run over by a couple of eighteen-wheelers.” Tony shook his head. “How are his vitals? Is he breathing okay? Is he okay?”

“Tony. Deep breath,” she instructed. “Yes. He’s fine, he’s doing great, actually.” 

Tony breathed a heavy sigh of relief. “Helen-” His voice broke. “Thank you. I-” Tony’s eyes watered and he looked away. “I can’t thank you enough. You saved my kid.” He brought Peter’s hand to his lips. “Thank you.”

Helen shook her head, smiling. “Tony, I don’t need thanks. I may be a world renowned geneticist-” her grin widened, “-but patching up your danger-prone kid every other day is a very important part of my job too.” 

They shared a chuckle, and after checking several of the monitors around them, Helen left, giving him a little wave. “I’ll be back in half an hour to check on him,” she said. “Try to get some rest.”

The door closed quietly behind her. In the growing silence, the heart monitor’s monotonous beeping seemed to grow louder. Tony gazed down at Peter’s lax face and he felt so much love. His heart seemed to burst with all the overwhelming love he held for his sweet kid, and he could only press a long kiss to the boy’s forehead.

Tony scooted forward and pulled the expensive blankets over his shoulder, wrapping Peter in his arms and bringing him close. He held him against his chest and combed a hand through his curls. “I love you, Petey,” he murmured. 

Tony pressed a tender kiss to Peter’s temple and, after hugging Peter closer, he allowed his eyes to slip shut. Peter’s soft breaths heated the crook of his neck. After a few peaceful minutes of listening to his kid’s breathing, Tony’s own breaths eventually steadied. 

~~~~~

Helen paused in the restroom, relieving herself and then fixing her bun. She washed her face with the warm water that came from the faucet and took a moment to breathe. The bathroom door slid shut behind her and she turned around, and nearly rammed into the one and only Happy Hogan.

“Happy!” she exclaimed.

“How is he?!” Happy gasped breathlessly, pulling at his tie. “Is he…?” The unspoken words on his tongue made him shiver and he shook his head.

“He’s fine,” she assured him. “He’s fine. Tony’s with him right now.”

Happy breathed a heavy sigh of relief. “Thank god,” he muttered. He turned to discreetly wipe the dust out of his eyes.

Helen smiled. “Peter’s okay. He’s stable and already recovering.” She shook her head and sighed, the worry lines around her eyes creasing. “Happy, it was arsenic poisoning.”

Happy’s lips pressed into a thin line. He swallowed thickly and nodded. 

“We caught her,” he said abruptly. “Stephanie Wright. All we know so far is that, um, it wasn't the kid she was looking for. Her target was Tony.” Happy cleared his throat. “I’ll let him know. Later. Not now.” 

“But Peter’s okay?” he asked once more. 

“He’s doing fine,” Helen assured him. 

“Good. Good.” Happy nodded. “That’s… yeah, good.” He began making his way down the hall to the waiting room.

She gave the weary man a kind smile. “I’m about to go check on him. I’ll let you know how he’s doing.”

When Helen poked her head to Peter’s hospital room a few minutes later, she couldn’t help but chuckle fondly. 

Peter was wrapped in Tony’s arms, barely visible in the protective embrace of his father. The man’s quiet snores and Peter’s adorable snuffles filled the empty, machine-like silence of the room. Even in sleep, Tony’s arms were still tight around his kid. 

Helen slipped in and quietly checked the monitors, nodding to herself. She saw Peter’s hand move almost violently on the pillow out of the corner of her eye, and she had to hold back a laugh when Tony let out a loud snort and pulled Peter closer. 

After adjusting a few wires, she smiled at the sleeping father and son duo and waved slightly, then watched the door shut behind her. 

Back inside that serene room, Tony pressed his nose into Peter’s curls and breathed in deeply. His face was relaxed and peaceful as he held his precious kid. Peter, looking absolutely tiny in Tony’s arms, was snuggled against his chest, his lips parted slightly with a little drool dripping down his chin. 

Though they were both fast asleep, a feeling of peace and love filled Tony and Peter. Warm and safe in each other’s arms, they would sleep for a long while.

~~~~~

Taglist: @imissyoutoo @aj-that-person @tonystark-deserves-better @nathaly-ab @skeeter-110 @peter-and-tony-vlogs @teammightypen @joyful-soul-collector @loveliestdisappointment @depuella @scwene-qween @honeythepooh @pixiethefirecat7 @spider-man-lover @jami161 @bringitonvoldie @queen-of-sarcasm-25 @roxy3457 @memilon @iron-loyalty @gralaca @bitchingpretty @pillowspace @thatminecraftgal @clockworkteacup @hatakehikari @wtfischeese @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars @skydiving-without-a-parachute @yansi1923

If you want to be added/ removed please let me know!

~~~~~

/ST*RKERS DNI/

[moonflower-31]

I Won’t Forget You - Spencer Reid x Reader

Masterlist  

Part 24 

Warnings: Brief mention of self harm, Panic attacks, etc.  

Also (F/C/T) is: Your favorite cookie type 

Tags: @dra-reid, @eevee0722, @ceeellewrites, @anotherr-fine-mess, @ssahoodrathotchner, @egg-boy03, @helena-way07, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @serendipity-imagines, @kaelyn-lobrutto24, @thatsonezesty13, 

~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Never to suffer would never to have been blessed. - Edgar Allan Poe 

You bite your lip anxiously as you slowly pull away from Spencer’s now much more soaked cardigan. You sigh and attempt to wipe the spot down with your hand. "I'm sorry…" you said in a small voice. Spencer gently took your hands in his own and made you look into his eyes. 

"How can you be sorry for something you couldn't control? It's alright by me, (Y/N). Do you need someone to go in with you?" Spencer asked, his hands wanting desperately to hold you and to keep you ever so close to his chest so that you never had to fear for your safety. Because in his arms he could protect you. He could be the safe haven you needed to get back on your feet. And he would happily do so.  

You sniffled and pushed a strand on your hair that had fallen in your face behind your ear. You shook your head, gulping nervously before attempting to speak again. 

"N-no… Hotch wanted me to meet him in his office. I-I should be okay. Hotch… he wouldn't hurt me." You assure, although your voice betrayed your real feelings. You were nervous you were going to lose your probationary agent status and be downgraded to a desk-work agent. You were so close to the team now. You had already been working on fine-tuning your resume to turn in when Peter attacked you. 

Spencer sighed and squeezed your hand. "Okay. But just know I'll be here when you come out. I only have a few more reports to do. And each of them only require about a normal printer paper's worth of documentation to complete. Suffice to say you don't need to worry." 

You gave Spencer the best smile you could muster, which ended up only being a weak small one, before you turned your attention towards the small set of stairs. You then walked up to Hotch's office, the pounding of your heart and the rushing blood roaring in your ears. 

The carpet muffled the slight clop of your heels, quieting the pounding in your head just a smidge. You could see him in his office. He was business as usual, as always. You could feel your lungs collapse and refill as you took in each breath. You almost felt trapped inside your body. All around you you could only see blurry pictures of what was real. And you then began to see clearly what wasn't.  Piercing, evil green eyes began to appear on the walls, all staring at you. 

Whatever you had carried in your hands was now on the floor, your chest feeling ever so heavy. One by one your senses and functions were turning themselves off. It started with your hearing, and then your sight began to darken around the edges of your vision. By then you could see the partial outline of Spencer’s figure, trying to say something. But you couldn't hear him. The only thing you could hear was the pounding and the roaring of blood and your heart in your ears. It was deafening. 

Then you lost your ability to breathe, clutching at your chest as you coughed and wheezed, trying to suck in as much air as you could as your throat closed and swelled. Spencer gripped your arms, and it seemed like Hotch soon after joined him in trying to help you. Then you lost the ability to stand. And you fell face first into Spencer’s arms where he thankfully caught you. But it wasn't long after this that you began to lose consciousness from the lack of air in your lungs and the increasing pounding of your heart. 

The last thing you knew you would remember was the semi clearing view of Spencer’s eyes looking into yours, trying to urge you to stay awake. 

○●♡●○ 

You reawaken to Spencer's apartment ceiling, confused as to how you had gotten there. More concerned as to who was there with you. You attempt to move, to make someone aware that you were awake.  

"Hey, so Sleeping Beauty actually awakens." 

You groan at the sudden realization of who was in the room with you. You sit up slowly, turning your head to see a familiar pair of whiskey colored eyes staring at you from the corner of the room. 

"G...Gabriel?" 

Gabriel nods and chuckles to himself, advancing closer to you and taking a seat next to you. "Yep. What, were you expecting a stringbean? Prince charming? Cause he's in the other room with Chocolate Thunder." 

You widen your eyes for a moment and start to laugh softly from knowing Gabriel knew Garcia's nickname for Morgan. "You know about that?" 

Gabriel gives you a raised eyebrow. "What don't I know about you and your new work friends at this point?" 

You nod a few times. Fair enough. 

"What I also know… is that you are so undeniably in love with that pipe cleaner with eyes in there it ain't funny.  And he likes ya back. You know how many times I had to bribe him with my copy of the Hebrew version of the bible to leave you alone in here? He refused to let you go. Like seriously. Confess already. It's kinda sickening." Gabriel teases, nudging your shoulder. You look down at the floor, sniffling and laughing partly. 

Gabriel's teasing facade fell and he narrowed his eyebrows. "Kid… seriously. Are you okay? You passed out at work. That's not normal. Not even for me. And that's saying something." Gabriel's eyes widen and he holds up two hands as if saying he was innocent. 

You snicker gently, crossing your arms comfortably. "I… I guess? My uh… my Mom stopped by to beat me to a pulp today." 

Gabriel's face immediately shifted and redness increased in his face. "Are you serious? That bitch tried something? After what she did to you?! Selling you to fucking Peter?!" Gabriel hissed, his hands tightening at his sides. You flinch at his louder tone, sniffling and wiping your quickly tearing up eyes. 

"She's a narcissist, Gabe. S-she only cares about herself and th-the business. T-that she already got money for selling me to him. And it's non-refundable apparently." The dark cloud that had been around your head before your attack quickly was returning. And here you thought you'd finally be able to see sunlight. 

Gabriel sighed, his hand flexing against his jeans. "(Y/N)... I'm sorry kid. You don't deserve her. Deserve anything that's happened to you. Once we get her in jail alongside Pe-" 

You flinch at the beginning mention of Peter’s name, causing Gabriel to pause his statement and rephrase it. Gabriel sighed and began to speak again. "Once we get them both in jail, you'll be able to focus on yourself. Getting better. I'll even pay for your therapy if you want. It comes with candy I hear." Gabriel smirked, his tone growing playful to try and get a smile out of you. 

You do end up smiling gently, nodding wordlessly to your oldest friend. He wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer to him, letting you hug his torso. "Come 'ere. Let's just calm down for now, eh? Don't want you fainting on me again." Gabriel encouraged, gaining a brief chuckle from you. 

You snuggle closer, glad Gabriel understood you enough to know this was what you needed. You rest your head against his chest and listen to his heart's strong pumping. 

A few moments of resting later, a pair of footsteps exit the kitchen and make their way towards the living room. You feel a slight twinge of fear build up in your chest, but you quickly feel it exit when you hear his voice enter the room as well. 

"How is she?" Spencer asks Gabriel, probably assuming you were still asleep or adjusted while they were in the kitchen. 

"Fine, considering what she's been through. Thanks for calling me though, Spencer. I've been tryna get clearance to see her for a few weeks and only just got it. The life of a field agent." Gabriel expressed, getting what you guessed to be a nod and a grunt from Morgan. 

"It ain't all fun and games, I can tell you that." He answers, a sigh soon after leaving his lips. You open your eyes slowly and see Morgan clutching his lower thigh where he'd been shot by Peter. You resist your urge to bite your lip, wanting to enjoy a few minutes of just listening before having to interact.  

"What happened? Seriously? She didn't go into detail, and I respect that. But how did she end up fainting on her way to the boss's office?" Gabriel questioned, his hand rubbing up and down your arm. He knew you were still awake. It was like he already knew what was going through your head. 

"Her…" Spencer sighed, biting his nails for a moment as his eyes traveled over towards your supposedly sleeping form on his couch. "Her mother came in and attacked her. She stood up for herself but in the process I think she showed Hotch how unready she was for work. That's what he said anyway. That Derek and I should stay with her for a few weeks. We'll alternate cases once he goes back so she has someone at home." Spencer began to explain. You were glad you were awake now. Otherwise you doubted you would get as clear and concise of an explanation of what was going to happen if they knew you were awake. 

Gabriel gritted his teeth and looked off to the side in annoyance. "Yeah. I know about that. Which pisses me off honestly. How did she even get in? Don't you gotta have an ID to get in? An appointment or something?" He asks, his voice harsher than you'd ever usually heard it. 

"Hey, man we ain't in charge of that. That's the front desk. But yeah. Usually you gotta have an ID and or you gotta have an appointment or a meeting with an agent. She probably said she had a meeting with (Y/N) and they let her in." Derek explained, holding his hands up cautiously. 

Gabriel let out a sigh and groaned. "Fine fine. But still. It shouldn't be that easy. She should be as safe at that office as she is at home." 

Spencer nodded, his eyes closing slowly and staying closed as he sighed heavily. Something was weighing on him. You knew it. Was it you? It wasn't his fault. But then again, did he know that? 

You finally gained enough strength to finally face the two of your closest friends and began to open your eyes again, gently moving yourself away from Gabriel's chest. 

Spencer was the first to notice, his face immediately lighting up when he saw your open eyes. "(Y/N/N)..." he breathed, a smile pulling onto his face. Gabriel stifled a chuckle, rubbing your arm before giving you a reassuring look. You nodded to him, and he then stood up. He nudged at Morgan’s shoulder and winked at him. 

"Let's give 'em a few minutes, Brown Sugar. See? I can do nicknames too." He teases before he gestures for Morgan to follow him into the other room. Morgan laughed and winked back at him, following him into the kitchen. 

You look up at Spencer, gesturing to the seat beside you. He takes the spot as soon as you assure him that he was welcome. He was so cautious, wanting to make you as comfortable as you could be. You couldn't think of anyone else so attentive. 

"Spencer-" 

"(Y/N)-" 

You snicker softly, hearing a laugh echo from Spencer. For the first time in what felt like years you felt the foreign feeling of your heart skipping a beat. His laughter was like a blessing for you. And you were glad to have it. 

"You first." Spencer spoke up again after a moment. You sighed and rubbed your neck. 

"Spencer… I'm sorry. I… I didn't know I was going to faint or-or have a panic attack-" the increasing need to explain yourself filled up your chest. You didn't look him in the eyes, ashamed of not having been able to control how you acted.

But then he gently took your hands in his. Well, your wrists mostly. He was still wary of germs. "(Y/N/N)... Have I been known to lie to you?"  

You took a few deep breaths as you blinked at his question. "N-no… no you've always told the truth. That I know of." 

Spencer nodded. "Then should you determine that what I said to you when you apologized for wetting my cardigan, a lie?" 

You swallow nervously and sigh, shaking your head as you picked at your nails. You felt guilty. But that didn't mean what Spencer was saying didn't help. 

Spencer sighed. "You should not have to apologize for things you cannot control. It would be like asking me to apologize for having the IQ I do." Or for loving you, which would be a crime to apologize for. Spencer thought silently. 

Spencer’s hand raised up to your shoulder and rested there, pulling you closer to him. You both stayed quiet for a few moments, just listening to the other breathe. 

"You were awake when I talked with Gabriel, weren't you?" He asked after a few moments of silence. You bit your lip and exhaled tiredly. Your upper eyelids began to fall, proving your exhaustion. It was an exhaustion you hadn't felt since you were rescued from the clutches of your captor that shouldn't be named. 

"Y-yeah… I was just… I wasn't ready to really be awake yet." You explained. "I'm so-" 

Spencer shook his head. "Please, don't apologize for taking the time you needed." You didn't finish your statement, just letting yourself rest against him this time. 

"Okay…" you whispered, unsure of what else to say. Your tongue felt baren of words, unable to comprehend a combination that would effectively continue the conversation that you didn't second guess yourself on. 

"It's okay to have listened, (Y/N). I was just making sure you knew what Hotch said about you going back to work. You and Morgan have some time off that Hotch has given you both. He wants you to take the time to recover. If I'm totally honest, I do too." Spencer expressed, gently rubbing your arm as you laid against his chest. 

"But… I don't know what to even do with my time, Spencer. I'd bore myself." You look down at your fingers, groaning at the idea of being alone and unable to distract yourself from your self-destructive thoughts. You were glad you wouldn't be alone. Then maybe you'd be able to stave off of going back to self harm. 

"That's why Morgan will be here. For a little while. Then when he's able to go back in the field we'll alternate cases. So that you won't have to be alone, (Y/N)." Spencer assured you. "I'm sure I can help occupy your day with books." "O-or whatever you want to do." Spencer quickly adds, blushing softly. 

You smiled softly at his attempt to make you feel better. "Promise you'll read me Edgar Allen Poe and we have a deal." You attempt to tease. Spencer smiles at you and nods, hugging you closer. Seeing you cheering up was the best thing to happen to him in that entire half of the day since lunch break. You were safe in his arms. You were warm, protected, and that was all he could ask for. 

"Quoth the raven." Spencer answered, causing you to snicker. You curl up next to him, letting yourself ease breaths in and out. He was warm, and his heartbeat rhythmic. Forget any sort of music playlist. You could fall asleep listening just to his heartbeat and be off to dreamland in a matter of minutes. The warmth alone was comforting. Like a gigantic comforter that wrapped around you securely. 

"Spence… I…" you began, feeling an urgency full your chest. Were you really going to tell him? Tell him now how you felt? Would he feel the same? Gabriel could be wrong. Yet again, he was wrong about a lot of things. But were they ever this serious? 

Spencer adjusted his position so you could look him in the eyes. "Hm?" He answered, giving you the most adorable look you'd ever seen. Yeah. You were. While you still had this bit of confidence and urgency in your chest. Butterflies burst into your stomach, making you worry for a stutter. You wait a few moments to collect your bearings, before attempting what would be impossible with your normal level of confidence.

"I… I lo-" 

"Heya you two! Butterscotch and I just made cookies in here. You want one? They're your favorite, (Y/N)." Gabriel called from the kitchen. You jumped at the sudden additional voice, before sighing mournfully. 

"Are you okay?" Spencer asks. 

You exhale half annoyedly and nod. "Yeah… he just scared me." 

Spencer nodded and rubbed your back for a moment. "So… what were you going to say?" He asked, begging and hoping his cheeks weren't as red as they were warm. 

You look up into Spencer’s warm hazel eyes, but feel that last trickle of confidence slip away. You sigh and shake your head. "I… I uh… I wanted to ask if you'd want to have a movie marathon tonight. Just… as a distraction." 

Spencer blinked a few times before he nodded. "Yeah, totally. As long as Star Trek is in there somewhere." 

You giggle softly and chuckle. "Sure, fanboy." 

You stand up gently before beginning to head to the kitchen. Curse Gabriel and his want to share. You would already be kissing Spencer’s face off at this very moment if he'd waited a few more minutes before announcing he'd made cookies. But then again, (F/C/T) cookies sounded pretty good too. 

Back to the drawing board, with a few extra post-it notes of anxieties and PTSD. You'd get there. Somehow. 

[yuusa]

𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐆𝐨𝐝 𝟑

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟒𝟕𝟑𝟖

𝐁𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝟑

You slurped on the small carton of strawberry milk you had recently bought from the vending machine, your back was against the tree as you stared up at the sky. Some of the leaves were brushing against the wind and falling towards the grassy floor.

You knew that Tohru had invited you to sit with her during lunch, but you couldn’t bring yourself to forcefully put yourself into her life after one dinner meeting. The family was odd. They seemed dysfunctional yet connected in some way, you questioned the reasoning behind your thoughts. It didn’t seem like Tohru or Yuki lived with their parents, and you highly doubt Shigure is one either. You gnawed at the tip of the straw, Tohru looked like she was the only one keeping them together. 

You were a bit envious. She seemed so happy and carefree, almost as if her problems were solved by simply being nice to others. You couldn’t understand her. Perhaps she didn’t want to bring up her own problems so she could stay happy. You tapped your pen against the paper as you heard the sound of your straw sucking up nothing but small droplets at the bottom of the carton.

“The eagle would think that if they tried their hardest to convince God, they could unite the other zodiacs,“ you bit your tongue at the memory. What a joke.

“Why are you looking at me with those eyes. . . You. . .” She gripped onto your hair tightly as she brought you up to her face, “Who the hell do you think you are? I hate the look in your eyes.”

“Bring my daughter back to me!” She screamed.

You wondered if it was possible to rid yourself of those memories. It seemed like so long ago that you left the household and chased after a part-time job. You were lucky to have attended the middle school of Kaibara in order to transfer into the high school section. 

You dropped the carton onto your side and pushed your knees towards your chest. You wanted to know what your family is doing at this moment, would they still be mad at you? Was it worth finding them again? Did they want you now? You leaned your forehead against your knees, your face covered by your body as you clutched your hair, your sharp nails digging into your scalp.

“My poor wife, she’s been suffering every since that spirit came to the house after the death of our daughter.” He pulled at parts of his hair as he spoke with the businessman, “we had to lock up that room because it was haunted. My wife still opens it once in a while to pray though.”

“I’m sorry for your loss. . . Have you contacted a shaman to take care of the spirit?”

“Not yet, my wife is insisting that God can take care of the spirit. The first week she wouldn’t stop crying, I feel bad for her, I’ve been trying to comfort her every single night but she keeps wailing.” 

You pressed your nails against the wooden door, your teeth gritting in annoyance and frustration. Your throat was coarse and you were in desperate need of water. You breathed heavily before sliding down the door and falling to the ground.

Why are you talking about me when I’m right here?

Why are you lying to him? Father?

You gasped as you snapped back into reality. You gripped your chest tightly as you tried to stabilize your breathing. Underneath your nails were smears of blood while you quickly packed your things. You lifted your hand to see the wretched color staining your hands. Your breathing becomes heavy again and your stomach clenches itself.

“Damn it!” You punched the tree roughly, the coarse bark ripping the outer layer of your skin. The pain sparked a sense of adrenaline, while the feeling of disgust was still coursing through your body. You huffed before quickly leaving to attend your next class.

“I hate their voices.” You mumbled, kicking a medium-sized rock towards the other side of the concrete as you stared at the ground. No matter where you go to hide, memories resurface like the sick feeling in your stomach.

“Is something wrong (L/n)-san?” You halted your steps and turned around, seeing the same grey-haired friend accompanying you by your side to class. From afar you spotted the micro-banged student glaring at you but you decided to ignore her.

“Not really.”

“You were glaring at the floor pretty intensely.” You flinched before pulling your eyes away from him to focus on somewhere else but him.

“Sorry then.” You scoffed, clearly displeased as your mood has been spoiled. The two of you silently tread through the school to your next class. What luck, you had the same schedule. 

Yuki eyed you quietly before speaking up.“Would you like to exchange numbers?” 

The air seems a bit tense and awkward, “what for?” 

“We’re friends aren’t we?” 

“W-Wha? O-Oh, mhm. . .” You fumbled around in your bag and took out your cell phone. A small charm was dangling off of the side, it was a small white rat keychain with a single sakura flower. When Yuki took out his phone he had the exact same keychain. 

“What a coincidence,” he smiled “we have matching keychains.” Your cheeks felt hot as you quickly unlocked your phone, “they didn’t sell any bird ones. . .” 

“Hm. . . I got mine from Honda-san, I’ll be sure to find you a bird one too then.” 

“Y-You don’t have to! It’s really embarrassing.” You held out your phone screen which displayed your number, “hurry and put it in already.” 

He raised an eyebrow at your statement to which you quickly pulled your phone back as your cheeks felt even hotter. “I-I-I didn’t m-mean it like that! Quickly! Put my number in your phone!” 

“Yes yes. . .” He sent you a text to notify you. You opened up his contact and started to fill out his name, from above you, Yuki noticed that he was the only contact in your phone. He wondered why your phone seemed so blank despite you saying you had a job, did you simply answer any calls you were given or did you not use your phone?

“Do you not have anyone else on your phone?” He asked.

You clutched your phone to your chest as you flinched, “I-Is that bad?” 

“No no no, I’ll just give you Honda-san’s number too so you can talk to us anytime.” 

“I-Is that fine? She wouldn’t mind right?” He shook his head.

“I’m pretty sure Honda-san would be more than happy to talk to you more.” 

You turned your eyes away from him in order to type in her number. “Why are you guys being so nice to me?” 

“Hmm. . .” Yuki stared at the ceiling in thought. 

After he had come home that night, Tohru asked him about whether or not you had a phone to talk to her with. She seemed really insistent on gaining your friendship after you had talked to her during the after school clean up session. 

She mentioned how you would silently help her during class like picking up her fallen items, which Kyo only described as being generally nice, but Tohru seemed to have other thoughts. Yuki didn’t know whether or not Tohru saw something within you which sparked her interest in you, but part of the reason why he wanted your phone number was to talk to you outside of school without having Akito finding out about other people coming into the Sohma family’s home. 

“She was happy to have another friend.” You parted your lips to say something only for them to close momentarily. 

“I-I see. . . Thank you then.” You typed in her number and also changed her contact. 

“Now you have two people in your contact.” He smiled. “Are you feeling better?” 

You realized that the whole reason for him asking you about your phone was to distract you from your sour mood. He continued to smile at you, almost as if he was trying to communicate some sort of idea to you. He really was quite kind-hearted.

“Yes. . . You wanted my number to cheer me up didn’t you?” 

“Mhm,” Yuki slid the door open to the classroom for you, “it seemed like you needed a distraction.” 

“Oh, thank you Sohma-san.” You held your cell phone close to you before making your way to your desk. 

“Ah! (Y/n)-kun!” Tohru waved at you from her desk as you hooked your bag onto the side. “How was your day?”

Perhaps there is something more underneath the surface, Yuki thought. He watched as you interacted with Tohru, slightly hesitant as you tried your best to keep the conversation going. With the way you talk to Tohru, it seemed like you were genuinely trying to make friends. 

You threw your bag across the room and flopped onto your bed. You felt the poking sensation from one of the loose pens and you tossed it behind you. You breathed out a sigh of relief as you smothered your face against the soft, cool pillows. You flipped yourself over so that you laid on your back. 

You felt so tired after school and your shift ended. Physical Education did a number on you when it came to running laps. After the experience you had during lunch, you needed to blow off some steam during PE. You found that it was a bad choice considering the fact you had to work at the cafe for the rest of the day. You were quite drowsy when it came to serving customers today. You made a mental note to write in your journal but for now, you will rest in bed until you regain your strength and energy. 

The sound of a ding interrupted your moment of peace. You groggily picked up your phone and saw that you had two new texts from Tohru and Yuki. You swiped in order to view the full messages. 

“(Y/n)-kun!! You should join us for dinner!” Tohru sent you a photo of the table full of food, you wondered how they obtained so many ingredients to cook so many dishes. Did they have a party?

“(L/n)-san, Honda-san is begging me to text you to join us for dinner, will you be coming? Our cousin came over.” You typed a response to Yuki first. 

“Sorry, I’m just feeling exhausted tonight. Please Tell Tohru-kun I can try to come over the weekends.” He starts to type a response, the three dots appearing on your screen. 

“That’s fine, are you doing okay after PE?” He types quite fast actually, it feels weird having someone to text with and you were glad knowing that Yuki has always tried to make some sort of conversation with you. 

“Just a bit tired.” 

“Just a bit? I heard you ran a bunch of laps and tripped halfway.” He sent a cute rat emoticon. 

You fumbled around with your phone, “really? You remember that part? Whats with the emoticons?”

“It was funny. Honda-san uses a lot of emoticons, I thought it would be fun to try it out.

“Oh, I see. I thought you were going to eat dinner with everyone else?

“Our cousin accidentally broke the table and we’re waiting for Honda-san to come back for another dinner.” You stifled a chuckle. “We spent a lot of time cleaning up and she hasn’t come back yet. Kyo is thinking about getting take out.”

“Does Shigure-san know you’re texting someone?”

“Nope, I’m texting you behind a book.”

“You’re quite sneaky for someone who is suppose to be a good student.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Another rat emoticon. “For someone whose quite fast at running, you sure do trip a lot.”

“Shut up,” you sighed, “just a little clumsy.”

“Right,” he sent a rat emoticon with a question mark. “Are you feeling better though? You seemed down during lunch.”

“I’m fine.” You continued to tap against the screen, your eyes slowly drooping downwards in exhaustion, “you shouldn’t have to worry about me, we just met.”

“It feels as if you’re still bothered by something, but I won’t press on it too much. Since Honda-san isn’t back yet, what is your favorite animal?”

“. . . An eagle? I guess a white-tailed eagle is interesting.”

“I heard that the Crowned Eagle is strong. They’re also a bit clumsy when it comes to flying, reminds me of you.” You pressed your lips together.

“What is yours then?” 

He sends another cute rat emoticon. “I think it would be a bit obvious.” 

“Cute.” His texting paused for a moment after your text and you think Tohru-kun came back home. “Did Tohru-kun come home?” 

“Oh, yes she just did. Our cousin is cooking again and she says it would be hamburger.” 

“I see, that’s nice.” You sighed before sitting up from your bed. 

“Have you eaten?” 

“No, not yet.”

“I can bring you food in a bit if you would like, our cousin made extra.” 

Your eyes widened before you furiously started typing, “You really don’t need to visit me you know.”

“It would be a good way to escape this chaotic family for a bit, it’s also nice to talk to you.”

“Then. . . If you don’t mind.”

From the Sohma household, Yuki smiled and hurriedly finished his meal. He was slightly pleased to know that he was able to come over to your house. Although you had recently met barely a day ago, he was curious about you. Tohru looked over at him and grinned.

“Are you going over to (Y/n)-kun’s house?”

“Yes I am, she says she didn’t have anything to eat but is tired, do you want me to give her something from you?” He responded.

She only waved her arms around to dismiss the idea, “no no, just tell her I said hi!”

“Then I will.” He packed up the food and waved the rest of the family a quick goodbye as he made his way to your apartment.

Kyo turned to the door in annoyance before scoffing, “don’t you think it’s weird he’s interacting with that other girl?”

“What do you mean Kyo-kun?” Tohru asked.

“Think about it, they just barely met and he’s coming to her house already? Sheesh.” He flipped himself onto the floor, “don’t you think it’s strange?”

Tohru stared at the closed door, her hand up to her lips as she thought about your interactions with Yuki.

She didn’t know much about you other than the fact you sat next to her in class, but there were moments when she could see the look in your eyes that she sees every day when Yuki is there with her.

Your eyes looked so sad.

When she sees you in class, you always fidget with your fingers underneath the desk, or how you would tap your pen against paper whenever you encountered a puzzling thought. When you talk to her, you sound like you’re forcing yourself to come up with a conversation. She couldn’t forget the look in your eyes when she saw you. You would tighten your fists like the way Yuki clutched his left arm, the two of you would divert your attention away and space out at times as well.

That day, when you both stayed after school, she felt something towards you. A desperate cry for some sort of love underneath the facade you held, yearning for something that was never there for you, reaching out for a distant dream in hopes of a cure.

Tohru gripped the edge of her shorts as she wonders if you had a similar past to Yuki. Your eyes looked as if you were constantly on watch and anxious, yet it held a hint of loneliness and sadness hidden behind your sharp irises.

Maybe the reason why you got along so well was because of something in the past.

“I know that, Kyo-kun.” She mumbled. “But she looks like she really wanted friends.”

“You came here quite fast.” You peered from behind the door, seeing Yuki hold up a bag of food. 

“You should know that we’re both fast runners in the class.” You reached out to unlock the chain and opened the door. 

“S-Sorry, my room is a bit messy right now, we can eat over here.” 

He looked around the room, seeing a lack of photographs or any sort of decorations hanging on the wall. When you opened the door to the rest of your apartment, he was greeted with the scent of lavender and camellias. Interesting choice of flowers. Your bed was still quite messy despite your efforts to bring yourself to clean up, there were some books spread across the ground and he noticed the piling laundry basket in the corner of the room. You were wearing a simple white button-up and one of your favorite pants. 

“My room is gross, sorry.” You apologized again, trying to stack the books onto your shelf as he sat down on the wooden floor. 

“No no, my room is like this too.” He continued to admire the interior of the room, despite it being a small apartment it seemed very cozy. “Does it always smell like lavender in here?” He commented. 

“O-Oh, yes. My coworker said it’s supposed to help with sleep and relaxation.” Once the books were neatly stacked you walked over to the miniature kitchen. “I only have green tea with me, will you be okay with that?” 

“That would be fine, thank you for having me over.” He smiled while you turned away from him, your cheeks becoming warm as you turned on the stove with a filled kettle. You struggled with tying the back of your apron, your arms extremely sore from overworking yourself earlier. You groaned in frustration as you continued to try to tie a knot behind you while exerting yourself. 

“I can get that for you.” You flinched as you felt his hands tightening the strings and pulling them together, looping them into a bow before stepping back. “Are you normally this tired after work?” 

“Customers can be hard.” You huffed, pulling out a separate bowl and your wooden whisk. “They ask for a lot from us and it’s difficult when you’re just a student.” When the kettle was getting to the boiling point, you poured the water into the bowl and set your whisk inside. “It’s the only job I currently have which pays enough for rent.” 

You pulled out a packet of ground matcha and sifted it into the bowl. Your fingers were delicately working at the tea while Yuki admired you from the side. As you vigorously stirred the mixture in a zig-zag motion, you looked over your shoulder to see him still smiling at you.

“W-Why are you smiling?” You poured the matcha tea into two cups and set them down onto your wooden tray. 

“No, I was just impressed by your skills. Did you learn that at your workplace?” 

“O-Oh, I did. I learned quite a bit from working there.” You carried the tray towards the table and set them down while Yuki sat across from you. “Is your family going to be okay with you being here?”

He shook his head, “I’m pretty sure our cat is happy knowing I’m out of the house for a while.” By cat, you assumed he meant Kyo. 

“I see, do you dislike him?” You awkwardly avoided using his last name considering the fact that he and Kyo came from the same family, and you weren’t quite ready to even say his first name. 

“Dislike is far, it’s more like I hate him.” He brought up the cup to his lips and took a small sip, “everything he does makes me angry.” 

You unwrapped the food and admired the careful packeting of it before digging in with your chopsticks, “is there a reason why you hate him?” 

He set the cup down, “hmm. . . It runs quite deep.” He peered down at the small air bubbles which sat at the top of the tea. “You could say that I’m a bit envious of him.” 

“It must be hard constantly comparing yourself with him then.” You bluntly said, cutting a piece of the hamburger and chewing on it, “but, don’t you have good qualities as well?” 

“Well, it’s hard to say.” 

You hummed. “You’re kind and mature Sohma-san,” you picked up your own cup and brought it to your lips to drink, “I don’t think anyone would simply come over to your house and give you food.”

“Other than Honda-san of course.” You giggled slightly but coughed to drive his attention away from the sound. He continued to drink his tea while you ate.

You silently eyed him, realizing now that he had long eyelashes. You could see how some could mistake him for the wrong gender, but you wondered how a boy such as him is blessed with so many great qualities. You stopped chewing, instead, biting on your inner cheek when you realized how attractive he was. Even his eyes were much prettier than yours. They were the right shade of grey and they held kindness and innocence within them.

You frowned as you thought about your own reflection. Your heart sinks to the ground as you felt yourself wanting to leave this place. The cold air of your room sunk into your bones as the chills ran down your spine.

“I hate the look in your eyes.” She sneered.

Yuki quickly set his cup down and reached over to you, “are you okay? You’ve gone pale.”

You instinctively retreated back slightly, your eyes widening as you stared at him. His hand twitched before he pulled himself back. His eyes reflected your own while you cowered in fear. You could feel the beads of sweat beginning to form on your neck as you adjusted yourself.

“Yes, I’m fine.” You peered up at the clock on the wall, “it’s getting late. You should start going home.”

There was an awkward pause of silence growing between the two of you.

“Sorry, if I offended you.” Yuki pulled himself off of the floor. You bit your lip as you watched him pack his own things to leave, feeling guilty for your own actions. As he was beginning to turn towards the door, you quickly stood up and grabbed onto his wrist.

“A-Ah, umm. . .” He stared at you while you struggled to form coherent words, “I-It wasn’t your fault. I didn’t mean to drive you away, I-It’s fine if you want to stay a little longer if you want to though.” You mumbled.

You looked up at him with your (e/c) eyes, “I’m sorry.”

He reached out to pat the top of your head, “then, I’ll stay for a bit longer. Let me call Shigure-san about this.” He excused himself from the room and went out to the hall to phone Shigure.

You breathed out a sigh of relief before cleaning up the table and going to wash the empty cups. As you scrubbed the surface with soap and water, you wondered if you had driven him away from you. Your heart felt heavy seeing his hurt expression pull away from you.

You knew all along that you weren’t the best at making friends.

This encounter was starting to make you feel paranoid, your hands starting to freeze up while the burning sensation of the water unfazed you. You were starting to worry that Yuki might not want to be your friend anymore after this. The way he stared back at you with those hurt eyes made you want to crawl into your nest and bury yourself into it. You blinked away the small formations of tears at the corner of your eyes.

You winced when you realized you have been running your hand under boiling hot water for too long, the skin turning a bright red color. You gasped when you stared down at your hands, your stomach feeling sick as your body began to tremble, your eyes focusing on the darkening color.

Her nails dug into the surface of your hand as you began to feel your skin split, the crimson liquid oozing from your skin. You tried to grab onto her hand to pull her away with the little strength you had. You could feel yourself being roughly thrown back into the room, the thick fluid smearing onto the cold floor as the door slammed shut.

You tightly shut your eyes as you blindly ran past Yuki towards the bathroom. His worried glances followed your figure as you made your escape.

“(L/n)-san, are you okay?” You fumbled with the cabinet trying to unlock it but to no prevail, your breathing became heavy as your body almost collapsed onto the ground. Your hand couldn’t find the lock at all and you were starting to feel woozy.

You felt the feeling of his hand grasping onto your shoulder gently, “(L/n)-san, you burned your hand, is your medical kit in here?” He gently knocked on the material and you nodded in response, your eyes still closed as you tried to calm your breathing.

You should hear him unlock the cabinet, his hand reaching out to pull on the medical tape and wrap the material around your fingers as you breathed a sigh of relief. Although it was dark, you felt comfortable at the moment. Your fingers twitched as he carefully wrapped it around your hand.

“Did you burn yourself while I was gone?” You frowned as you nodded again. You felt him rip the end of the tape with his nails before tapping on the back of your hand.

“You can open your eyes now (L/n)-san.” You cracked open one of your eyes and saw the slightly clumsy wrapping made by Yuki. Slowly, you brought your hands to your chest, feeling your heartbeat beginning to calm down.

“I’m sorry for troubling you tonight Sohma-san.” You said.

He only responded with his gentler voices, “you don’t need to apologize. Are you scared of something?” He asked.

“The color. . . Red.” You whispered, almost inaudible as Yuki had to take time to process your response.

“Does closing your eyes help you?” You mumbled a short yes.

You thought he would judge you based on this childish fear, but he seemed to stare at you with those kind grey eyes of his. It seemed unrealistic to have someone as caring as he was. You almost wanted to pinch yourself to see if you were simply dreaming.

“Would you like to go back to your room? I can stay for a bit longer here.” You gave him a short nod and he held onto your hands, careful not to apply pressure onto the surface as he guided you back into your room.

“Do you need help with that?” He pointed at your still tied apron.

“No, I’ll try to do it myself, I’ve troubled you enough.” You tried to reach the knot but with every single movement from your joints sparked a burning sensation. You hissed at it but Yuki grabbed onto your hand and pulled it away.

“It’s okay to ask for help (L/n)-san.” He tugged onto the end of the knot and slowly pulled off your apron before you could even protest.

“Don’t you feel bothered?” You mumbled. “I’m causing you so much trouble and it's a hassle to do these things don’t you think? We barely know each other and here you are at my house.”

“Not really.” He started to fold the material, “it’s not really a problem at all.”

“You don’t seem to want to ask for help either, Sohma-san.” He grew silent before he guided you towards your bed, forcing you to sit down on the sheets as he stood over you. 

He brushed the side of his hair back, his eyes avoiding yours. “Did you know all this time?” 

You reached out to his hands with your bandaged ones, pulling on them as you leaned forward, feeling the cold sensation on top of your forehead as you closed your eyes. Yuki could feel the heat trailing to his cheeks as he felt you brush yourself against his hand. 

“We’re similar, Sohma-san.” You could only hear the small audible hum coming from above. 

[dearjamesxo]

Lip Gloss

[in response to THIS ASK]

Billy x Leo, M lite, femboy!Leo

Part 1 - Create temptation

Billy’s focus is shot. He must’ve read the same paragraph seven times, each time forgetting to absorb even a single, measly conjunction. The project is due in two days, and he’s supposed to present his part to his group in an hour to cut the fat. He procrastinated down to the wire, which isn’t usually a problem; in fact, he thrives under pressure, always pulling high marks out of his arse somehow despite doing the bulk of the work in a fraction of the time.

Bea wasn’t worried when he told her he was holing himself away in the library until he had to meet her, Spike and Susan to go over things. She knows Billy’s M.O. as well as anyone, knows he’ll piece together something coherent and impressive that will wow their teacher before they have to hand in the written half of their project.

And Billy’s absolutely going to do just that.

As soon as the gorgeous, young thing across from him stops being so bloody distracting.

The boy sits beneath the window, one table down in the chair that faces Billy, reading what Billy recognizes as The Catcher in the Rye. For what purpose, Billy doesn’t know; it’s not on the syllabus nor the recommended reading list. He can’t fathom someone would willingly subject themselves to that sort of horseshit. Horrible book, in Billy’s opinion, a pretentious waste of paper that serves no other purpose than to make the reader feel stupid for not vibing with the protagonist’s motivations when, in reality, Holden Caulfield is just a spoilt moron.

It’s not profound or artistic, it’s shallow, subpar nonsense.

Billy senses the boy across from him feels the same given the number of long-suffering sighs and adorable snorts the boy’s made in the span Billy’s been watchi—distracted by him. This isn’t the first instance Billy hasn’t been able to tear his gaze away from the boy – Leopold Wettin, though most of their classmates and teachers refer to him simply as Leo. Leo’s been distracting Billy since last year when Leo returned to school after spending the summer hols in Greece, sunbleached and bronzed. He came back different, maybe not confident but certainly more comfortable in his own skin.

Leo’s always been pretty; slight build and straight lines, a shy charm about him that appeals to the girls he hangs about with, though he wasn’t on Billy’s radar as anything more than a body filling the seat in Billy’s peripheral. But when Leo waltzed in that first day of the new school year in the girls’ kilt, knee-highs and chunky Doc Martens shoes, Billy n o t i c e d.

It took Billy a month to realize why Leo’s blue eyes seemed more startling, accentuated by an artful smudge of thin black liner and a generous layer of mascara that fans his long lashes perfectly. Christ, and then there’s the gloss, applied between classes when Leo thinks no one’s looking. Tinted very faintly, smeared with precision, and evened with a kiss, making Leo’s pout glisten a juicy petal pink that begs to be sampled.

A throat clears and Billy comes to, drowsy eyes dragging up from where they lingered on Leo’s mouth.

Well, shit.

Leo arches a slender brow, quirks a vague, Mona Lisa smile and asks, “See something you like?” in the overtly flirtatious tone he uses like a weapon against the boys in their year who torment him.

Billy blinks away the blur in his vision and straightens in his seat, chooses honesty because what does he have to lose: “Yeah.”

Crimson heat blossoms high on the arcs of Leo’s cheeks, flushing him sweetly. He licks his lips, a nervous tic that Billy doesn’t realize he emulates, and ducks his chin, slouching into his chest. Tipping his head, Billy watches Leo shrink and wonders; he’s never seen Leo this uncertain, meeting every challenge he encounters from the other boys with the sort of lofty courage required to be different and survive secondary school.

Billy pushes back his chair and stands, rounding his table to get to Leo’s. There, he pulls out the chair across from Leo and plops down, sprawling with his back against the wall, one arm on the back of the chair and the other on the surface of the table, knees spread. He sits quietly for a moment, openly admiring how Leo’s blush brings out the smattering of freckles across his face.

“Not what you were expecting?” Billy guesses.

Leo breathes a laugh, “No.” Then, bolder, “Not from you anyway.” He lifts his head again, turns to the side to glance out the window, the faded sunlight casting his features in gauzy relief, giving him a softer, more feminine appearance.

Billy feigns injury, hand over his heart, “Ouch. What’s that supposed to mean?”

Leo shifts, tilts forward, and folds his arms on the table, elbow pushing his book aside.

The collar of Leo’s shirt is loose, top few buttons undone and tie discarded. An assortment of thin, silver chains – some with simple pendants, others plain – are spun around his neck, drawing Billy’s attention downward. What Billy can see of Leo’s cream-pale chest is smooth, the peek of muscle within Leo’s shirt stirring something hot and hungry low in Billy’s gut.

“Just that boys like you don’t talk to boys like me.” Leo’s face pinches as if he sucked something sour, “Not unless they’re being dickheads.”

“You think I’m a dickhead?” Billy smirks.

With absolute surety, Leo says, “Yes.” before he tacks on in a loaded tease, biting and releasing his plush bottom lip coquettishly, “But you’re welcome to try and change my mind.”

The boy is a seductress in disguise, all cute stances, and bubble-gum tones on the outside and fiery, sex-kitten on the inside. He knows what he's doing, Billy can tell, has likely done this dance before, and doesn't that just send a sharp sting of jealousy through Billy. He bets Leo isn’t wearing Tesco tighty-whities under that rolled up kilt and, damn, does he want a chance to find out.

“Pfft,” Billy leans in, takes an exaggerated look around and says like it’s a secret, “I dunno, beautiful, I’m not sure you can handle it.”

“Oh?” Leo scoffs, gradually stands from his chair while bending further forward across the table, upper body supported by arms that squish the subtle mounds of Leo’s chest like cleavage. He arranges himself sinuously, hips hitched, arse in the air, back bowed, and blinks slowly at Billy, clicks his tongue, “I’m not so sure about that.”

This close, Billy can smell the light fragrance of whatever perfume Leo prefers, combined perfectly with the clean, salty tang of boysweat from their earlier PE class. He licks his lips again, pulled toward Leo as if by a string.

Truthfully, he wouldn’t be able to concentrate on his project if he was given millions of pounds to do it, anyway. Why not enjoy himself before being ripped a new one by Bea and the others?

“Care to find out?” He asks brazenly.

≡≡≡

CONTINUED ON AO3 💋

[thisfoolwrites]

My World

Hello everyone and welcome to my new story. Based VERY LOOSLY on Shameless because I only saw one clip and it gave my inspiration. {Sorry for the crappy title I’m not that creative Dx} Disclaimer: I do not own Haikyuu or Shameless Character: Hajime Iwaizumi Genre: Angst with fluff Warnings: None for this chapter

Mornings in the {L/N} household were usually calm and organized. Yuki and Shouta would be dressed for school and and {Y/N} would have had breakfast ready to go. Usually. Today was not that day. A certain older sibling had forgotten to set an alarm, causing the usually calm mornings to erupt into pure and utter chaos. “YUKI, SHOUTA lets go!” {Y/N} Hollered up the stairs. She clicked her tongue as she got their backpacks together. Slipping the bentos that she had made up last night. She was about to holler again when two sets of footsteps came down the stairs. She let out a sigh of relief as she slipped jackets onto the smaller kids. “No breakfast today?” Yuki's blue eyes bore into her older sisters eyes. This question was not said with any ill intent, but out of childlike curiosity. {Y/N} felt her heart break at the question and just shook her head. “Not today baby, but I promise tomorrow I will wake up bright and early and make you your favorites ok?” Earning a nod of approval from both kids. “Now, were all running late and all I have right now are pop tarts. I'm really sorry guys.” Handing them each a package she made a mental note to buy more just in case. After ushering both kids out of the house and on their way to the school she ran back inside to get her purse and work jacket. In her attempt to lock the door quickly she dropped the keys. As she was leaning down to get them her phone rang. She groaned and answered without looking. “Hello?” she grumbled into the phone. Hoping whoever it was on the other end could sense her frustrations. “That's not very friendly {Y/N}-Chan. And here I was calling to give you good news.” She froze hearing that voice. Almost breaking into tears. “I'm running late for work ShittyKawa, better make it fast.” came her snarky reply, hoping that he didn't hear the break in her voice. She looked at her watch and began to make her way to the train station. Running was no longer an option and she hoped she didn't get fired. Not that she was usually late, but that was always her fear. “Ignoring the out of pocket behavior from you,” So he did notice, she thought, “Me and Iwa-chan will be coming home for a little bit. He’s out of school for spring break, and the team gave us a month vacation!” He finished with a huge smile on his face. She couldn't help but smile. She missed her boys so much. “You both get to buy me lunch for leaving me!” she decided. “For all my pain and suffering.” “Says you Miss Tokyo U!” he laughed along with her. Upon hearing those the weight of everything came crashing back down. “Anyway 'Kawa, I am late for work so I gotta get off. Love and miss you both!” She said and hung up without waiting for a reply. Once on the train she let her thoughts take over. She knew that he would be worried, because her behavior was indeed off, but how was she supposed to tell him that she didn't go to Tokyo U and was taking online classes at night from a local community college? How was she supposed to tell her best friend and boyfriend that her mother up and left leaving her two kid siblings in her care? Sitting down on the seat she glanced out the window. “How do I tell you my life fell apart when yours just began?” She whispered. Hearing her phone buzz she glanced back down at her lap. It was a message from Hajime's mother.

Don't worry about the kids. I'll make sure they come here after school. Take care of yourself as well {Y/N}. She owed that woman so much, and she fully intended to pay her and her husband back.

Oikawa starred at his phone. There was something in the way that she spoke to him. He sighed and closed his eyes. Before he could even form a thought the smell of coffee was right in his face. Opening his eyes he noticed his best friend with two cups. “You are the best Iwa-Chan!” she grinned taking the cup from him. “Yeah yeah. Did you tell her?” Iwaizumi asked him. Oikawa just nodded at him. Before freezing up. “Whats that look for Shittykawa?” “I may not have told her we would be home tonight?” Iwaizumi just starred at him, reminding him of high school. “Well just have to swing by Tokyo to see her tomorrow. It'll be a surprise.” He waved his hand brushing off his mistake. He was supposed to mention that but he was distracted by the break in her voice. “Iwa, have to talked to her recently?” he asked gently. “Its been a few weeks. I called her during finals week and she sounded stressed. To be honest I've been worried about her. My mom wont tell me anything besides its been stressful for her. Not sure what that means. I hope I can take away some of that stress.” Before either boy got a chance to say anything, their flight was called and they boarded the plane.

Nine o'clock rolled around and {Y/N} walked up to the Iwaizumi's door. They had always lived on the same street so it made picking up her siblings pretty easy. When she walked up the steps she didn't even have a chance to knock on the door. Mai Iwaizumi smiled at her and called for the two kids. “Thank you so much for letting them come over today. I promise I'll be off in time to be home for them tomorrow. They just-” “I've told you before its ok. Besides I love these two like my own children. Now, they have eaten so don't let them trick you, and their homework is complete.” {Y/N} Just smiled at the woman. She had always looked up to this woman, hoping one day that this could be her mother. Before the two could converse more, her two siblings barreled into her giving her a bone crushing hug. The four of them just laughed and {Y/N} waved and led the two kids home. Upon reaching their destination they all hurried inside. {Y/N} took their backpacks and sent them upstairs to change and get ready for bed. Dropping her own stuff off at the kitchen table she pulled the empty bento boxes out of the backpacks. She placed them in the sink and silently made a vow to wash them later. She headed upstairs into her own bedroom, ignoring the empty master bedroom to the right of hers. She was about to slip out of her work shirt when she heard her name being called from the room over. Heading on over she noticed both kids curled up in Shouta's bed. Smiling she headed into the room and crouched down by the bed. “Whats up guys?” she asked softly, with a gentle smile on her face. Shouta just got a wide smile on his face. “We played volleyball today in PE and the teacher said I have a talent for it. I was wondering if there was anyway I could join the volleyball club.” Shouta asked. {Y/N}'s smile dropped a bit before she  placed a hand on his head. “I know you wanna play volleyball Sho, I understand, I do. But we just cant afford it right now.” she said softly, stoking the little boys head. His smile vanished but he just nodded his head. Money had been tight and his sister was working two jobs just to pay bills and put food on the table. Shouta mumbled a goodnight before rolling over and pulling the blanket over his head. {Y/N} Sighed and picked up Yuki and took her to the girls own room. The smaller girl watched as her sister tucked her in. “Hey {N/N?}” she quietly called causing the older girl to look at her. Yuki may have been only nine years old, but she could just see the sadness in her sisters eyes. “Do you think mommy will ever come home?” {Y/N} felt her heart break. She gently smiled and rubbed the top of Yuki's head. “I don't know baby. We'll cross that bridge when we get there.” She bent down to give her a kiss on the head. “Night Yu.” she said quietly closing the door. She peeked into Shouta's room to see that he was sound asleep. She smiled softly before closing his door and heading downstairs. She sat down at the kitchen table and put her head in her hands. Some days all she wanted to do was break down and cry, but that voice in the back of her head told her to be strong. She stood up and quietly made herself some food. Taking a glance at the coffee pot she debated whether or not to make a cup. Deciding against it because of the chaos this morning she grabbed her plate and headed on up to her room to work on schoolwork. When she sat down she noticed that she had missed messages on her phone.

Haji: Hey you up? Haji: If you are awake can you call me so I can hear your voice? I miss you. Looking at the time she decided against calling him. It wasn't that she was ignoring him, she just didn't know what to say and it was getting late. After setting a few alarms on her phone, to make sure they get up on time, she quickly set off on finishing up her essay for class. It wasn't the degree she wanted but right now she couldn't be picky. She needed to get a better job to provide for her siblings. And she was determined that she was gonna do right by them, unlike their mother. She glanced at the photo beside her laptop. It was her and her dad when she was 14. How she missed him. Fate worked in cruel ways sometimes and taking her father had been the cruelest to her. She shook her head to get rid of all the sad thoughts swirling around in her head. She would have all the time in the world to mope once she finished school. Once she did that she would work on getting the kids out of Miyagi and to a place where everyone wouldn't look at them in pity. Its the kids whose mother abandoned them. She wanted a place where they wouldn't look at her in pity. She didn't want to be known as the girl who turned down a full ride scholarship to Tokyo University anymore.

[killrqueen7]

Fate and Other Fairy Tales

A Worstthrust fanfic for the BRCU (Brandon Rogers Cinematic Universe)

Summary: A look at the events of Blame The Hero from the perspective of two villains in love

This work is also on AO3!

Bryce Tankthrust was never an affectionate woman and would never pretend to be. Growing up in a single-parent household, and with that parent being a highly successful lawyer with a no-bullshit, no fuck-up's, and absolutely no weakness policy, she could count on one hand the times she'd received a hug from her mother and still have fingers left over.

Bryce's mother was a cunt, to put it nicely. She was cold and manipulative toward every human being in her life, including and especially to her own daughters.

She was Bryce's fucking hero.

When Bryce was 7 years old, she met Bobby Best. He was a frail child with a wild temper and possibly the most dysfunctional father-son relationship she'd ever witnessed in all her seven years. The boy was mercilessly teased in PE and despite her desperate need for social validation, she stood up for Bobby against those other brats. In the way that children do, they became friends almost immediately and both, feeling a new sense of companionship and understanding no one else had ever given them, developed an innocent crush on one another; formed by mutual ostracization and strengthened by the hot summer sun.

To this day, 40 years later, Bobby Best was the only person in the world Bryce Tankthrust had ever loved.

Their friendship lasted only 24 hours, but in that time, Bryce had the world in her hands. Bobby made her laugh until she cried and that night, they talked, secretly on the phone, for hours. Bobby looked at her like she put the sun in the sky and she would be lying if she said that didn't make her feel like the most important person in the world.

As they lay in the dewy grass that day, grinning at each other under that hot sun and discussing the philosophy of fate and their every decision bringing them together for this very moment, Bryce made a secret promise; to herself and to Bobby: I'm never going to let it go.

But like all good things in Bryce's young life, the joy and innocence of childhood was short-lived. It all came crashing down around her, when in a moment of pure devotion to her new and very best friend, she'd presented her own beating heart; freshly pulled from her ribcage and held aloft like the precious gift that it was.

Bobby Best, in an admittedly appropriate reaction to seeing such gore and carnage, lost his lunch all over it; tainting both her heart and her entire worldview. A chorus of laughter hammered at her skull; the teacher joining in the act of pushing Bryce Tankthrust to the extreme bottom of the totem pole. You did not come back from something like that.

 Bryce's heart slipped from her slick, blood-soaked palm and landed on the hot asphalt below, breaking in two like some kind of dumbass metaphor. From where she knelt, it seemed as if glitter exploded from the damaged organ, scattered around it along with all of her joy and laughter. Every good and pure thing that made her who she was laid out on the ground at Bobby Best's feet and she was being ridiculed by the rest of their second grade P.E. class.

She only stared at it for a few seconds before standing in a rage and charging her teacher with the very knife she'd used to carve out her very soul. She plunged the blade into Mr. Best's gut several times before turning it on the rest of the class. Despite feeling woozy and weak, Bryce threatened the lot of them and fled, stomping on her stupid broken heart as she ran.

She never looked back, knowing that what she had with Bobby, as wonderful as it was, was over. She had to grow up now; love was for pawns and the easily manipulated. Now, she craved only power.

When she got home early, her mother didn't even question it or the red staining the front of her gym shirt. She simply received a glance and then her sister, that stupid, fussy little monster, began wailing again from upstairs.

"Bryce, will you see what your sister is crying about now? I need to make another phone call." Mrs. Brownstein picked up the landline and then turned her back on Bryce to signal the conversation was over. Helen was her responsibility until mom got off the phone.

Bryce quickly changed her shirt as little Helen cried, her little face wrinkling like an old lady's already. She never stopped when Bryce held her and Bryce was convinced that Helen just didn't like her. So much for girls sticking together.  Bryce was alone now.

Oddly enough, she was okay with that.

"Hearts are a waste of time, " she explained to her sister as she sat criss-cross on the floor with her, Helen sitting up and looking around for something to chew on, "I'll teach you to ignore it. They're just stupid. We're better off with these." Bryce tapped the baby's forehead lightly and then smiled when the little one tilted her head toward the touch.

 _

As Bobby sat in his cell, during the first few years of his sentence, all he felt was rage.

Rage at Bryce for killing his father and destroying any chance he would ever have of making him proud.

Rage at his father for treating him like a stranger in public and like garbage at home.

Rage at his mother for passing away and leaving him with someone who would never love him.

Rage at his classmates for ruthlessly teasing and abusing him.

And rage at himself for allowing all of that to happen.

Bobby swore, as soon as he got out, as soon as he was adopted by a family who actually wanted him, he would find Bryce Tankthrust – the catalyst for the single worst day of his life – and drive a stake through that empty cavity she called a chest.

Some say that there is a thin line between Hate and Love, and for Bobby, that line was nearly microscopic. There were days where he would close his eyes and imagine the sun on his face, the grass on his legs, and her hand in his.

There were nights where he would hear her laughter and see her grinning over at him from across the jungle gym.

All it took was one person to give him a chance. Maybe she did it out of pity or because she knew he would bend the knee and do anything she asked of him, but Bobby didn’t care then. It was the only shred of kindness anyone had ever shown him, regardless of ulterior motive.

“She was so profound.” He wrote out, tears welling in his eyes. “She was my everything.”

Bobby chewed at the eraser of his pencil and frowned at his own words. That was the Bryce he loved. The Bryce he wanted to remember. Except the memory of her rushing his father and driving a blade into his gut was glaring red and dangerous. Dare he admit that he was angry he hadn’t done it first?

No…despite everything, he missed his father. The man was a bastard, but Bobby was completely alone now. More alone than he’d been in his entire life, serving a sentence for a crime that he hadn’t even committed while the real killer roamed free; probably making other boys fall in love with her so she could fuck them over the same way…and never visit.

No, killing her gave him a purpose.

“One day, I will have my revenge on Bryce Tankthrust. She better sleep with one eye open because I’m getting out of here the second a family wants to adopt me.” 

_

As Bryce scowled at the pink and red hearts decorating the walls of her office, the Elmer heart inside her chest grew more and more bitter. Ever since her ex-lover had given her the one gift she couldn’t send back…and then mysteriously “disappeared” after declaring her a, quote, “unlovable, cold-hearted cunt” she’d hated this holiday more than any other.

Baby vomit didn’t easily come out of linen and silk.

His name was Robert and he was…well, he was a baby. And then a toddler. Part of Bryce hated herself for being unable to love the child like the mothers she saw in public. She thought that it might all come together when she held him in her arms for the first time. It was the moment all mothers seemed to speak of with peace and longing, but Bryce felt little more than pride.

She’d made that. A little human with fantastic genes who would never want for anything. But she didn’t feel the tug in her chest or the connection that she was told about. Robert was a stranger to her; and she knew he could feel it.

Her son was well-behaved, it was true, but outside of operating within the same large home, their scheduled interactions were limited. When she had attempted to hold him; to feed him or whatever one did with an infant, he just cried. He wouldn’t stop until Bryce handed him off and that hadn’t changed.

So if she couldn’t even buy his love – with expensive toys, clothing, and food – who else would dare?

This year, like every year before, she hadn’t even received one lousy card. Not even from her precious little Elmer army.

She took their hearts, though. In a way, it was similar to receiving a Valentine several times a month, even if she did use them up and throw them away.

It wouldn’t hurt, she supposed, to hire a boyfriend this year. There were plenty of men who would bend to her every whim; some on speed-dial even, and it would be a charity. Bryce was a woman of authority and fortune and it was good, every now and then, to give to the less fortunate. For a service, of course. She wasn’t in the habit of giving free money.

How much could love be worth? Half a million?

_

Bobby paced the floor of his cell, chewing at his nails as he went over his evil plans once again. He was going to get back at the world for treating him like garbage, tossing him away, and forgetting about him. One day, they would all know the name Bobby Worst and know that it was he that brought about the end of their cruel world. 

And Bryce would suffer with them. More if he could help it. He wanted to watch the life drain from her body and watch as that intelligent spark faded from her deep...chocolate eyes.

FUCK

Bobby slammed his palms against the iron bars and then tried flipping his bed. However, it was securely bolted down; something that had been done to it just a couple months after he was sentenced. He always seemed to forget that in the heat of the moment.

"Agggh it's not fair!" He cried out behind grit teeth and then sank down onto the floor.

And it wasn't. Why would he still be in love with the girl who had put him here and caused him so much pain? Why couldn't he just hate her like any normal person would?

"It's not fair," he muttered at himself, wrapping his arms around his knees and picking at a thread on his striped sleeve.

_

If Bryce still had a heart when she discovered that Bobby had escaped prison, it would have stopped for a moment.

It was front page news and she'd read it on a newspaper on her way into work. Bryce snatched the paper out of an old man's hands and quickly scanned the story with wild eyes.

"Shit!" The old man had gasped, "try me, bitch."

Instead, Bryce shoved the newspaper against his ugly yellow sweater-vest and stormed in to the elevator and then to her office, ignoring the whispers of her Elmer employees and the eyes of her little sister.

Bryce paced the floor and then stood at the window, looking down at the little ant-people below. Just when she was about to take a couple Xanax, the phone rang.

"Ms. Tankthrust? There's a man here insisting on adopting a baby. It's the persistent one."

Bryce nearly crushed the phone in her grip, but kept her voice even and authoritative. "Send him to the big room with the table-"

"The conference room?" The Elmer on the other end asked.

"Yes, whatever. Send him back. I'll deal with it." She slammed the phone down and then rubbed lightly at her chest. The surprise really had done some damage. She'd need a new one if she wanted to be convincing.

Bryce cracked her neck slightly and then went on a search for the fresh hearts, prepared to get this over with.

Then, she would decide what to do about Bobby Best.

_

When Bryce woke up, she was in a cell, lying atop a hard cot. Was this Hell? The last thing she remembered was looking down the barrel of a gun, held by a fucking baby. Baby Elmer; a name she'd decided to keep after stealing him from his true mother.

She didn't enjoy ripping a child from his mother's arms, but she'd been without a heart for nearly a month and it was a struggle to even get out of bed some mornings. She was weak, like a fourth stage cancer patient continuing to breathe out of spite.

In a way, that was exactly what she was living for.

By the time the first Elmer heart was ready, it had to be placed inside her chest cavity by Robert, who begged his nearly comatose mother to stay with him despite having been completely distant from him for most of his little life.

When the heart was shoved inside her chest, it was as if Bryce had done a bump of coke and drank 5 of her favorite double, half-sweet, non-fat caramel macchiato's.

However, she now felt as if she'd been run over by a truck...and then again as it backed over her lifeless corpse.

It felt so similar to the moment when Bobby lost his lunch all over her heart. That crushing, hollowed-out, desperate, clawing, pain.

"Hello!?" She called out, eyes desperately darting back and forth, taking in her surroundings, searching for weaknesses. "Hello, where am I?" She didn't want to sound vulnerable. Even now, she had to remain strong.

 "Hello Bryce," the voice came suddenly from the dark, where a man with platinum hair and a bored expression peered at her from the other side of the bars.

"Hi, would you kindly explain what's happening here?" Bryce gave him her most "pleasant" grin; one that barely hid her confusion and boiling rage.

"I resurrected you," he answered, and suddenly, Bryce knew exactly who this man was, standing there, staring at her with only malice in his eyes and a sparkling notebook under his chin. “With this.”

At one time, he'd been her greatest creation; not because she loved him at all, but because this clone had a heart that would be compatible with her body. He was the first in a long line of Elmer clones who had all...reluctantly donated their very beating hearts.

"I'll be damned, is that my first Elmer?" Her voice sounded almost fond. To say they had a history would be the understatement of the century. "Glad to see you could walk again, and you said that me kneecapping you would ruin your dance career. Oh, how you screamed in pain."

It was true; the removal of an Elmer's heart did not entirely remove the person inside. Some of her creations still held an interest for things like nature, theater, and - god forbid - art. But whatever kept them silent and complacent was fine with Bryce, just as long as they showed up to work on time and made her filthy fucking rich.

Her first Elmer displayed the most personality and had the strongest heart of any Elmer she'd ever made concurrently. She let him keep it, in a rare moment of motherly kindness or whatever, however as he discovered his love of interpretive dance, she could see that the boy was...stifled. He assured her that he was completely devoted to her; "like a son to his mother" (she never put much stock on that) but had tried to run away just a couple of weeks later. To Broadway, or what have you.

When Bryce broke his knees, she felt nothing but vindication. He'd tried to outwit and out-manipulate her.

As Elmer cried in pain, for just a moment, she thought she'd felt something; almost like a vibration or a...tear somewhere in her chest. It was the first shimmer of empathy she'd had since she was seven and it made her nauseous.

That night, Bryce ordered an army of Elmer clones be made and with each subsequent heart she stole, that tiny twinge of emotion faded. She'd "breed" it out of them if she had to.

Bryce watched as hate flashed in Elmer's eyes, a sure sign that things were not good for her.

She was fucked, and not in the fun way. 

_

After escaping prison, Bobby Worst did whatever the fuck he wanted to do. He fucked anything that walked...or crawled as well as various fruits and maybe some things that were not made to be fucked. Whatever, he'd put his dick in anything, because he was Bobby Worst; the absolute worst version of a human being he could ever conceive of. And he'd had a lot of time to think about that.

His diabolical plan was going to turn everyone into the worst versions of themselves. He would simply set off a nuclear bomb and whoever made it out alive would be just as fucked up and shitty as he'd felt for so many years.

And if everything went to plan, Bryce Tankthrust would be caught in the blast. If it didn't kill her, she would become soft, compassionate, and weak. The worst version of herself.

He could only hope she'd been lonely and miserable her entire life, but from the interviews he'd seen, she had more cash than several countries combined and she was never without a man who could dick her down. While he'd been stuck in a cell, pissed off and dreaming of revenge, Bryce had become the wealthiest and most powerful woman in the country, possibly the world.

She also mentioned that he was the skeleton in her closet and for a moment, it seemed like there was something behind her eyes. Regret? He'd replayed that moment again and again, pausing it on her face and searching for anything that said she thought about him.

 Of course, she could have been talking about any "skeleton" in any prison (who knew how many men she’d fucked over). Was he really so foolish to believe she even remembered him? That he was so important for her to regret that day for most of her life?

Bobby grit his teeth as he stared at those cold brown eyes, nearly crushing the remote in his hand. "Suck! Swallow! Set up the computer! I have a message for the world." 

_

Bryce hadn't seen the sunlight in so long. For days she was forced to kill herself and then was brought back only to do it again. She had died in every single way possible and she'd felt fear for the first time since she was a child.

She was strong until she no longer could be.

"No wait stop, Elmer, please, I can't take this anymore!" Her hand shook as she stretched it out to him, begging her tormentor for mercy though she knew she didn't deserve it and probably would not get it.

That audacity made her eldest Elmer pause, walking toward her with a glint in his eye so awful and so evil that she swore he'd adopted her own way of survival. He was enjoying this. 

The momentary distraction - his anger and vindication - was all she needed to snatch the all-powerful "Shit book" and pen, snapping both of Elmer's twig legs once again with the flick of a wrist. Once again, her entire body vibrated with power; power over her enemy, the smallest taste of freedom.

Until she discovered that even godly notebooks of infinite power had a limited number of pages. Oh the things she could have used that book for.

Elmer had had his fun with her and now, they were going to execute her. As she stared down the barrel of the gun in her face, she refused to allow them to see anything. Regret, fear, hopelessness, grief; it all swirled inside her, but her eyes were glassy and cold.

She always thought that it might come to this, though she always imagined the person on the other end of that barrel would be him.

It said a lot of Bryce that she would be happier to have been killed by his hand than to never see him again.

She tried to picture his face, but the only reference she had of him was the smiling face of a seven year old boy and the one very blurry mugshot.

"Last words?" The Elmer holding the gun asked.

Bryce tilted her head back and gave him her brightest, winning smile. "Get fucked, shitbag."

"How eloquent." Elmer said with a stony resolve.

Yet, at the last moment, the door to her lonely cell slid open with a hiss and the execution was called off by the very Elmer who had ordered her death. For now.

_

So there she remained, wrists chained to the walls, waiting for days on days for whenever the world needed her.

They say solitary confinement can break even the strongest of minds, and she had definitely had her weak moments in that cell, wishing even for the torture to continue if it meant having any sort of human interaction.

With her head hung low, she closed her eyes and wondered how baby Elmer was doing in the care of that closeted nitwit, Sam, and his disturbed vampire of a roommate...god, that had to be 17 years ago now. Did he remember anything?

Briefly, her mind wandered to Robert. Her only living relative; her continued bloodline. What would he do with her companies? Her amassed fortune? Was he happy?

In her weakest moment, her mind was stuck on a replay of that day with Bobby Best. The last, beautiful time she'd ever felt anything. The horrible last moments she'd had with him; leaving him heartbroken and confused. She wondered if he ever thought about her, all alone in his prison cell, and if he was still angry with her. She wondered if there might have ever been a chance for them. If he might have broken this door down and slaughtered the Elmer army to save her if circumstances were different.

 Bryce hissed as the stolen heart in her body gave a squeeze.

_

When Elmer rolled back into her cell, followed by a kid who couldn't be more than 29, explaining that the world had been blown to shit and he needed her help, she couldn't help but be amused. How dare he tell her what her purpose was? She knew exactly what she'd been put on this earth for and it wasn't to carry out some bastard's suicide mission. As soon as she was free, she was ripping his fucking heart out and eating it whole, right in front of him and any blonde bastard who tried to stop her. 

But then he dropped the biggest "fuck you" yet.

It was Bobby. Bobby Best. Her Bobby.

Apparently, he was Bobby Worst now - an evil bastard who had escaped prison and done all sorts of mildly horrible things until he finally managed to end the world. Oh, and he was on his way to kill her.

Bryce's snarky smile dropped from her face, and with a force enough to drop a bear, ripped the chains from the wall and stormed out into the bunker.

Unfortunately, the heart in her chest had been long since shriveled and useless and she dropped like a bag of bricks, crying out with the pain. It had taken too much. She wouldn't make it. Not even to Bobby's feet. And she still needed to get that stupid time machine.

"I'm too weak," she explained, clutching at her chest. "I'm gonna need a new heart."

Elmer didn't believe her. "You need to Get. Up."

"I ain't gonna make it 20 yards outside this stupid bunker without dying." She tried to explain. Why would they weaken their only hope?

"Yeah, but what's 'bunker' mean, though?" The kid standing behind Elmer's wheelchair asked...was this guy serious?

"Shut. Up." Bryce demanded, slapping the floor with her palm. "I need a new heart and I want yours."

Elmer just looked bored. "You can have one of the other Elmers'."

"I want yours, Professor X, and I wanna watch it come out of your body." It was only fair. Sure, she'd been cruel to him, but she'd never killed him. Not this Elmer specifically. And he had killed her. Many times.

There was a loud knock on the heavy bunker door, the other Elmer clones announcing the obvious arrival of a guest and working to unlatch and open the door as Bryce and their eldest argued over the possession of his heart.

Time was growing slim. He would have to make a quick decision and that's what she was counting on.

The sudden burst of gunfire made Bryce  jump and duck behind the chair. For a moment, everything was chaos. She didn't have time to stop and think about the voice she'd just heard. She knew it was him. Of course it was him. But she wasn't yet ready to face him. Didn't know if her weak heart could take it.

While Bobby descended upon Elmer in the chaos, Bryce and Blame - apparently that was the kid's name -  slipped out of the door and she earned a pop in the nose for her troubles.

Sure, hearing Bobby's voice demanding to know where she was after years of wondering if he even remembered her was fucking her up a little bit. That, paired with the failing organ in her chest made her a little testy. A bit feral. And it didn't take much for her to snap at Blame about the hazmat suit he was complaining about wearing. When he offered her the Elmer heart in his hand, she latched onto it like a hungry widow spider did its prey, shoving it inside her chest with a shudder.

It wouldn't last long out there, but it was better than nothing. 

_

Bryce was absolutely disgusted with the state of the world. The green assholes she’d met on the outside were even worse than she’d been rumored to be while she was the reigning CEO of multiple Fortune 500 companies. Even the low-income, tattooed heathen she was stuck with seemed like better company. If anyone wanted to know if she’d grown soft on the boy, they could eat a dick and choke on it.

But she did feel a bit bad when they stumbled across the bodies of his friends, giving him a moment alone with them to say his goodbye’s. They were all so young; probably just around her own son’s age. It was a shame, really.

As she roamed the Corn Hole Café, she could hear Blame speaking words of love to his friends and she wondered what it must feel like to lose someone like that, or to care if she did.

“Hey assholes!” Bryce’s head whipped around to the door so fast she rocked a bit in her heels. How the fuck did he find them?

“The lesbian..” She muttered to herself, suddenly regretting not killing her when she had the chance.

“Come out here with your hands up and we’ll fuck you with lube!” Bobby and his disgusting little henchmen laughed to themselves. What was it with villains and laughing like maniacs? 

Rolling her eyes, Bryce made her way back over to Blame, stepping over bodies as she went, but the idiot had decided to antagonize the assholes outside instead of staying quiet and going over a plan.

There was a series of several gunshots and Blame ducked out of Suck’s line of fire, crawling quickly toward the time machine they’d come for in the first place.

Bryce knew what she had to do.

40 years imagining and going over this very moment were thrown directly out of the window. Fuck what Elmer said, this was her purpose. Bobby was her beginning and her end.

“Don’t hurt the boy, Bobby. It’s me you’re after, remember?” She slowly made her way out of the café, putting herself between Bobby and Blame, her hands raised in surrender. She wasn’t even going to try to fight this. “It’s me you nuked this entire fucking planet trying to destroy and yet, here I am, standing like a boner.”

Bobby actually looked…hurt, which was what she was afraid of. Those damn sad fucking eyes - until they filled with rage.

“Nothing ever goes my way!” He cried, every bit as much the pissed off seven-year-old he used to be.

“I got access to a time machine,” She bargained, gesturing over her shoulder, “We can go back and fix all this. Not just the apocalypse but…everything, Bobby.” She wanted that more than she’d ever wanted anything. Standing here, seeing him again, she realized that he was the piece missing from her life; his absence in her life the reason she was so miserable. She hadn’t realized just how fucking much she missed Bobby until he was right in front of her. All she wanted to do was go to him; maybe…hug him. It was all very confusing and uncomfortable. 

Bobby was the one who got away and she had no one to blame but herself. But she had a chance to fix that. To keep him in her life and keep him out of prison. To have him forever.

“I’m sorry, Bryce.” He seemed to hesitate, bouncing on his feet like he did when he was anxious. Did he…have tears in his eyes? “But I waited forty goddamn years in prison for this fuckin’ moment, now I’m gonna skin you like a goddamn pig!”

Bryce was almost disappointed. Not surprised though; prison did awful things to the mind. Bobby was a child when he entered the system; and an innocent child at that. She was the reason he’d grown up that way and he’d had a long time to ruminate in his hate.

She sighed, the smile on her face waning with the ache she felt in her chest. A hollow, awful kind of pain. She knew exactly where this was going. They wouldn’t get a happy ending.

“Well shit, I figured as much.” She turned back toward the café where she’d heard the door creak open softly. “Get out of here now, Blame!”

“Yeah, but what about you, dawg?” How sweet. He was actually concerned about her safety. It would figure that she’d gain some attachment to humanity when she was prepared to leave it.

“This is my purpose,” she told him  and then scooped up the rifle at her feet, pointing it directly at the green man in front of her. He had a knife. He planned to murder her and make it personal.

_

Bobby took a step back, brows furrowed, holding the knife out in front of him warily. He was terrified to admit that his feelings toward Bryce had never really changed. He had missed her and now here she was. Was he prepared to lose her again?

Would she do it? Would she use the gun on him? If her interviews were anything to go by, Bryce Tankthrust was an absolute force of power. She was not to be underestimated or to be fucked with. At this point, Bobby wasn’t sure what to expect.

There were gunshots from the café behind her, where the boy she’d been protecting had disappeared, but Bryce didn’t even flinch. Her focus was narrowed, and it was all on him. The force of it was crushing.

Could he do it? Could he actually take a knife to her?

_

Bryce’s hands tightened and then loosed on the rifle at least three times. No matter what she did, she could not make her finger tighten on that trigger. A heat bubbled up inside her and everything came rushing out all at once. “DAMMIT!” She cried in anguish, dropping the gun from Bobby’s face. “I can’t do it!”

She stared at the ground, ashamed of the guilt; the weakness she felt for Bobby. Even now.

“I thought I was heartless, but there still seems to be people I can’t bring myself to kill.” It didn’t matter what Bobby did to the world or even to her; she wouldn’t take the first shot.

_

Bobby let out a small breath of relief when Bryce dropped the nose of the rifle.

She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t hurt him.

It almost made him reconsider what he was about to do. It almost made him drop the knife and run to take her hand. To live out the rest of their days as the worst living couple in existence. Almost.

“Well then allow me,”

_

The next thing Bryce felt was the plunge of metal in her abdomen, and then three more just like it. And then heat, more intense than she could ever fathom. There was so much blood and so much pain. She was dying; she'd died enough times to know it immediately.

“You stupiiiiiiid cunt!” Bobby gloated, kneeling over her to laugh in her face. Bryce coughed with the pain, blood leaking from her parted lips. "You call yourself evil. You couldn’t even kill me and I’m a fucking terrorist!”

“You’re right,” Bryce sighed, meeting Bobby’s eyes. She was resigned to her fate now, but that didn’t mean she had to do it alone, “I just need a little push.” Bryce ripped the hazmat suit from her face and took a deep inhale of the radioactive oxygen around them. Immediately, her skin flushed a deep green, altering and corrupting her very cells, turning her into someone who could actually kill the love of her life.

Bryce lifted the blade from her stomach, watching as it slid out of her flesh covered in her blood. Bobby held her wrist the entire time, eyes wide and full of fear. He knew, as well, where this was going.

As Bobby screamed about the deep injustice of it all, Bryce plunged the blade into his torso; once, twice…and then four more times, crying out as if it was killing her too. The pain she felt was much more than just physical. It ripped at her insides and squeezed at her throat. She didn’t want this. No matter what Bobby did to her, she never wanted to hurt him. But to save this disgusting planet, she needed to bring down the very worst of the assholes inhabiting it.

Bryce rolled onto her back beside her childhood friend who was staring up at the smog-hidden sky above them as they both gasped and choked on their last remaining breaths. Bryce watched his face, wishing that he might reach out and take her hand in these final few moments.

“You know what’s crazy?” Bobby forced out between gasps. “Every decision we’ve ever made has led to this moment.”

Bryce felt herself relax into the grass as she laughed warmly. He remembered.

Bryce felt her heart give out when she heard Bobby take his last breath. Her eyes lost their focus and she imagined what life might have been had they been able to start over.

Bobby had once been the most important person in Bryce’s life. More than the son she’d named after him. More than her own living, breathing sister.

In another world, perhaps, Bryce would have taken Bobby’s hand and they would have run away together. They might have fallen in love; genuinely and immensely. She might have become the most powerful woman in the world – president, even – supported at every step by her super-hot, super-villain boyfriend.

In another world, maybe they’d have started a little evil family of their own – she’d always liked the name Delmar (would they even make good parents??). Maybe they’d have a wedding on the roof of a skyscraper and start their honeymoon by blowing some shit up.

Maybe they’d be happy.

And she’d never need to steal a heart again, because she’d already have one freely given.

Author’s Notes:

 I realized after writing this that Helen and Bryce are not actually sisters in this universe but I can’t be bothered to change it. They are sisters in this fic, though it doesn’t really change the story. If you know Helen, growing up with Bryce Tankthrust as an older sister would explain a lot.

Bryce does have a son, mentioned only once and briefly. The biological father is unknown and he does not currently have a name. It doesn’t seem like he and Bryce are close. In my fic, I named him Robert (after Bobby T-T), BUT I have since decided that Delmar Lysol (from Brandon’s video, Family Friendly Halloween) could have only come from the loins and environment of these two fucked up assholes, so he’s their son...in another timeline.

This is NOT a healthy relationship (then again, is anyone healthy in the BRCU??) but Bryce and Bobby are villains for a reason. They’re assholes. To everyone. Everyone in this universe is an asshole (except for precious Sam, I do believe, though he has his moments)

[artoutforblood]

Private rambling about doing art don't reblog

OK, so if you're reading this I guess that's fine. Mentions of r*pe, torture, and murder. Bit of a dead dove don't eat situation, but not towards the r*pe.

You ever have that one specific trauma that you have a specific character, even on oc do something for? Like, you find that those few guys who can do something for it.

Mine is someone killing the monster who r*ped me as a child. Maybe it's just on my mind since I had a breakdown about it at therapy but... right now I just keep reenacting this scene in my head, w/ musical Betelgeuse (or does he actually spell it Beetlejuice in the musical? The whole being dead thing pt 2 implies he does) doing something that sets me off because he doesn't know and he actually comes to check in on me and apologize, and I spill the beans about why it upset so much. And he. Gets angry. Not at me but at what happened, at the fucking monster who did it to me. His hair would be purple, but then bright red streaks would shoot through it like rivers of blood. His face is cast downwards as he crouches in front of me.

"I can get rid of him for ya."

And I look from my hands, my sobbing paused in my surprise and confusion. "What?"

He takes my hand in his, not caring that it's covered in tears, snot, and saliva. He looks up, and the anger on his face and his cold hands shocks more of the distress away.

"I can get rid of him," he repeats, staring at me in the eye. His golden eyes are burning and his pupils are slits of rage. "All you got to do is say my name three times, and I'll make him suffer."

I swallow, but the tears can't stop flowing. Next to forgetting it all, it's all I've ever wanted. For him to suffer. He killed a part of me every time, he should be too. Buried so far below he can't hurt anyone ever again.

But, still, how could I ask someone to do that? Even if they're asking me? And...

"I don't want to use you, Beej."

And it's true. I've never called his name three times, I don't want to be another on the list of employers. I don't want to use him, because he's a person, well, demon, and he's my friend and I care about him.

He scoffs, a few stalks of deep blue join the hurt purple and angry red, but I don't know what they mean yet.

"You won't be using me, Bones," his sharp nails prick my skin when he squeezes my hand, "This is my job, remember?"

He doesn't always use my nickname or real name, so he means business. But I'm frowning at him now, unsure how to express what I mean, but he beats me to it.

"Consider this a favor to a friend," he grins, but it's comes out as a snarl of sharp teeth, "Nothing would make me happier than to make the guy who did that to you experience hell before I send him there myself."

I sniff back some tears and chew my trembling lips. Why am I hesitating?

"I don't remember his name or his face, and I have no idea where he's at."

"Don't you worry your cute head about that. I've got my ways."

I stare at him, holding his intense gaze, and I squeeze his hands.

"You'll come back home, right?" I ask, almost beg, "Please?"

Pink blushes the hair at his temples, and for a moment he's speechless. Then, he rolls his eyes with a reedy chuckle.

"Like I'd leave my BFFF and my favorite breather hanging. Plus, who'd be left to annoy the Maitlands? I know you won't do it. You're too sweet."

He teasingly pokes me under the ear, where he knows I'm a little ticklish. It gets the tiniest of giggles out of me.

The mood drops again the moment the scene passes, and the offer hangs between the two of us like an anvil ready to drop.

"Do you want him to suffer, Arin?" He asks, "You want him dead?"

The answer is on my lips too soon, and then it all comes spilling out like a waterfall of hate, "Yes. I don't want him to hurt anyone ever again. I want him to pay for what he's done. I want him tortured until he he doesn't know anything but agony."

My voice is shaking and the tears return. The anger is boiling, but I know that once its gone, all I'll have left is exhaustion.

A dark expression floods Betelgeuse's face. I know he's a demon, I know he loves scaring people (though after Lydia warned him of my triggers he's toned it down with me) but he's always been kind of goofy, kind of high energy. I always got the feeling he was too okay with murder, but I didn't expect this. Yet, it doesn't surprise me.

Part of me is touched that he's willing to go this far for me. That he'd offer to do everything I wish I could do. The other part of me is worried that I'd take advantage of this. I don't want to do that. I don't want to use or hurt him.

His rough voice broke me out of my thoughts like wind through a tunnel.

"Then say my name three times, and I'll do just that. I'll be real thorough, trust me on that."

With a deep breath and silent promise to myself that I will not make a habit out of this, I begin.

"Betelgeuse."

The air around us shifts, gets a little heavier, a little colder.

"Betelgeuse."

The shadows grow against the corners of my bedroom, bulging like pustules. The temperature drops several degrees, my breath steams out of my mouth and the hairs on my arms and back of my neck stand on end.

The part of me that always refuses to fuck with ghosts screams to stop, that this is dangerous! But the rest of me knows that I'm not in any danger, not with him.

He gives me an encouraging nod, "Just one more."

It comes out in a breathy rush, "Betelgeuse."

The lights go off and the sunny sky goes black. Lightning and thunder crash outside, the world trembles around me. The taste of grave dirt and ozone assaults my senses.

I shut my eyes out of reflex, and when they're open, he's still there. Hes always been solid to me inside the Deetz-Maitland household, to everyone's utter shock when I first arrived, but there is something different about him now. Something just subtly off, maybe stronger, it's hard to name.

His eyes are glowing like sickly lanterns in the darkness of my room and his hands hold mine for another moment before the lights come back on and the late Spring day returns to sunshine.

He stands from where he was crouching, letting go of my hands as he does so.

I can feel his being begin to vanish.

"Its show time," He mutters darkly.

Before he's gone, I lunge for his hand and grab it with both of my own. My hands and voice are shaking, my eyes sting from the tears I'm fighting back.

"And you'll come back?"

He stares at our hands, then back at me. The look of pure confusion makes my heart break.

He covers my hand with his other one. It's so big, and his cold callousness rub against my skin, sending a shiver up my arms.

"And I'll be back," He promises.

I give him a shaky smile, "Thank you. Come back home safe."

As if relieved all the heavy emotions are over with, he gives me a big, mean grin, "Oh, I wouldn't worry about me. But that guy is never getting home again. Ever."

And just like that, he's gone, taking with him the cold and ozone. A waft of earthy soil is all he leaves.

My hands fall between my knees, then slowly crawl up my arms until I'm hugging myself.

[tellywoodtrash]

immj 17.10.20 lb

ugh mummyyyyyyyyyyyyy. cannot stand this damn overacting, just stab yourself and chalti bano, c'mon.

good lord the early 2000s K-serial-esque reaction shots and whooshing sound effects, i cannot.

i am maata rani, smirking like DO IT BITCHHHHHHHH

GODDAMNIT VANSH.

some more overacting. also putting words in his mouth ki “tumne mujhe maaaf kyunnnn kar diya??”

lol sure, this is the face of someone who's forgiven ya. 

yup he literally was like "save the drama, mama" and walked off.

“galat insaan se panga liya hai tumne, riddhima.” yehiiii toh hai riddhima's most fond hobby. casually taking panga with ppl who are waaaaaaaay out of her league.

could barely understand wtf he’s growling like an angry grizzly bear.

ofc wifey wants to do patni dharam of bandaging.

some unexpectedly deep statements about how she's only capable of hurting him, and he doesn't want bandages on his baahar ke zakhm. idk what the fuck right he has to be so uppity after breaking the bangle on her hand purposely.

idhar bhi some emotional blackmail about being his wife and it's her haq and farz and idk what else.

ugh she just said “maine tumhe dard diya hai vansh, par dard bhi toh apne hi dete haina?” WHICH IS SOMETHING I FUCKING HATE. STOP NORMALIZING THIS BS AND PROMOTING TOXICITY IN RELATIONSHIPS.

haq jataa jataa ke kaaboo mein kar liya.  

fwding chachi's jewelry blah blah

iska chehra hamesha aisa kyun hai???? mummy ne sikhaaya nahi hai kya, ki mooh banaoge toh aise hi atak jayega.

some more saazish and scheming. just another routine day in the lives of these shady fucks.

i'm just whateverrrrrr about this scene coz hellooooooo, he hurt her hand too, and he has noooooooo issues with it.

but i can't help and lol at the way he's scowling like a child whose mom refused to get it some tooth-rotting sugar bomb at the supermarket.

throwing back that "apne" comment she made with a hard truth of his own: “apne apnon pe bharosa karte hain [...] do you trust me????? toh aaj tak apne aap ko yeh bharosa kyun nahi dilaa payi ki ragini ke baare mein maine tumse kuch nahi chupaaya hai? kyun dhoondti rehti ho usko idhar udhar?”

ok seriously, i am on neither of these dumbasses' sides. she is extraordinarily nosy and taang adaaofies in shit that's not her business, but my man, it's not like YOU'VE been an open book to her about yourself. why the fuck should she trust you??? based on what????? you've disclosed zero personal details about yourself willingly. like just the ragini thing itself; you’ve told her nothing about it, act incredibly cagey about it every time it’s brought up, and you want her to implicitly trust you that all is fine and dandy?????  you think it’s fucking normal to have statues of random women who “betrayed” you in your attic????? aur toh aur, you want her to confide all her secrets in you, the man who put a gun to her fucking head on the wedding night??? and continues to intimidate her with death threats????? is that how you think trust is fostered?????? she doesn't trust you for THE SAME FUCKING REASON that you don't trust her. and that's coz you fuckers didn't even have one, decent chodo, not even one NORMAL conversation that two people should have before they marry. i haven't even watched the show beyond a week now, and i know that shit for a goddamn fact.

and you, missy. you need to stop being such a wishy washy dheent. decide once and for all which man you want, and stay tf on that side. i hate such thaali ki baingans.

oh yeah, itni akal hai tum mein ki she sent a parcel to sejal in mumbai and then she said she's in dubai, but you didn't realise the bs mummy fed you about that fucking painting???? honestly vansh, how does it even make sense, that riddhima was preventing her from disclosing a truth that would clear her own name??????

awwwwwwwwwwwwww yisssssssssss, baby sister, secret shaatir is here.

oh danggggggggg, she's the one who overheard riddhima last night. and she went straighttttttttt to vansh with it. i love itttttt. we loveeeeee a tight sibling pairrrrrrr.

lmao she's the one who spilt the beans about the painting as well. i fucking love it.

siya still trying to angle in some sympathy for bhaabi and bhai is like HMPH NO DON’T TAKE HER SIDE SHE IS A CHEATERCOCK

is he listening to himself??????? he wants to keep his own secrets but riddhima should disclose all of hers???? YEH KAUNSA LOGIC HAI BEY GOBAR GANESH????

siya thinking the same thing as me.

everytime vansh sits down on his haunches to talk to siya, my heart grows 6 sizes.

“nahi hai bharosa riddhima ko mujhpe.” says the forlorn SadBoiii, who married a girl just to find out who's she's working for as a spy.

siya like "meri hi budhdhi brasht ho gayi hai, jo mein inn bewakoofon ke chonchlon mein pad rahi hoon."

hallelujah, sis has finally decided to end all the dhokas. yeah, can't WAITTTTTTTTTT to see how that turns out. judging by past history and the general tone of this show, it should go super smooth and great!!!!!

dadi here with some cliche aansoon shraddha dialogues that are not at all helpful rn, but ok whatever.

blah blah be not only his sangini but also his rakshak. dudeee, goli khaaa chuki hai uske liye, isse zyaada kya raksha kare???!?!?!! matlab idk what kinda expectations ppl are keeping from bahus these days, fucking ridic.

this one also........ her mouth writing bharosa waala cheques that her perma-shakki brain can't cash.

maata rani suffers fools better than i do, and blessing the good dumb sis.

blah blah sajaaofy pooja ki aarthi ka thaal, do pooja, and everything will be changa. chalo, yeh bhi try kar lete hain. aapke adiyal pote ke dimaag ko thikaane lagaana bas bhagwan ke hi haath mein hai.

sejal callllllling. meaning KABIRRRRRRRR callingggg.

great, dadi being over-familiar and taking the phone to talk to sejal. ughhhhhhhhh.

grabbed the phone back in time. phew.

kabir feeling good enough to sip daaru from a nice delicate champagne flute, so can't say i feel too sorry for him rn.

but also my god, what in the random hell is the decor of his place? a wolf poster, the word GOLD, some ainvayi ka luxury type office chair. did he dumpster dive to collect this shit???

riddhima talking out of her ass and saying i won't help you anymore coz vansh isn't a criminal. sis, we’re all little bit of a criminal. you telling me he doesn’t have traffic tickets? doesn’t illegally stream shit online? doesn’t skip through reading the terms and conditions before clicking “i agree” on random websites, and then go on to completely ignore alllllllllllll the rules they stated about fair use???

kabir like OH WORD? YOU MUST HAVE PROOF OF HIS INNOCENCE THEN? which lmaoooooooooooo, that's not how the fucking law works, my good dude.

some more aadarshwaadi dialoguebaazi.

i am kabir. i am forever kabir. so done with this chick's unique blend of self-righteousness and idiocy and see-sawing ways.

[writerbyaccident]

Safeguard (Yandere Katsuki BakugouxReader)

Request: Perhaps could you do a piece with a Yandere Bakugo and a gentle reader who is shy with Bakugo and while very obedient, Bakugo wishes she wouldn’t be frightened with him. However she falls in love with him after Bakugo fights off an intruder who tried to hurt her and force himself on her. After the attack, Bakugo realizes how scary he must have looked in front of her but she is amazed and and showers him affection. Maybe adding “you’re really are my hero!”

So I changed things up a bit for this, hope you like it!

Trigger Warning: attempted r*pe

           Bakugou glared at the ceiling, angrily trying to will himself to sleep. Usually he had no problem falling asleep, always making sure he got at least eight hours each night. He needed to be at peak condition to be the best hero he could be, after all. But these days he was finding it harder and harder to find sleep. Ever since Bakugou first met you, sleep had tried its best to evade him.  Your warm eyes, your sweet voice, your soft lips, they haunted him each night. And as he had gotten to know you, had seen the kind and gentle nature that shone through you, things only grew worse. Every moment he didn’t know where you were, if you were safe, was torture, the possibilities of everything that might happen to you clawing through him. And even now, after he bringing you home, where he knew you were safe and loved, he still stared at the ceiling every night.

           It wasn’t as if you had done anything wrong, exactly. As much as Bakugou wished that he could blame his dissatisfaction on you, he had to begrudgingly admit that you were handling this about as well as he could expect. He wasn’t delusional, Bakugou knew that he had kidnapped you. But what he was trying to get you to understand was that he didn’t do it for selfish reasons (or not entirely selfish reasons, at least). He did it to protect you, to ensure that you would be safe. No matter how many times he explained it though, you remained scared of him. Sure, you didn’t try to escape, did everything he asked you to, but that wasn’t what Bakugou wanted, not really. He wanted you to love him like he loved you.

           Those were the thoughts that kept his eyes open, that kept his breaths ragged as he tried to find sleep. And those were the thoughts were interrupted when Bakugou heard the creak of your bedroom door reverberate through the hall. The noise sent him shooting upward, pausing only so that he could strain his ears and hear if any other sounds joined the first. But with the furious pounding of his heart and the paranoid thoughts racing through his head, Bakugou couldn’t pick out anything. Slipping out of bed, Bakugou tread silently towards his bedroom door. It was already open a crack, as he always wanted to make sure that you could reach him easily if you needed something. All he saw when he peered out though was a small slice of the hallway, dark and empty.

           Pushing open his door as quietly as he could, thanking whoever the hell was up there that it didn’t so much as creak, Bakugou moved out into the hallway. There was still no sign of you though as Bakugou scanned his surroundings. Bakugou didn’t think that you could have gotten downstairs without him noticing, seeing as he had made sure his room was between yours and the stairs for just this reason. But still, he hesitated before walking towards your room, fearing that you might have put on that whole obedient act to make him lower his guard. In pausing though, the sound of some kind of disturbance was finally able to reach Bakugou’s ears. Muffled bangs and thuds were coming from your room, sending a spike of fear through his heart. Trying to reassure himself that it was only the sound of you attempting to break open the reinforced window, that having suddenly become the better option, Bakugou rushed towards your bedroom.

           The door forced open, Bakugou could only stare at the scene he found waiting for him. You were on your bed, but it was clearly not of your own volition. No, that was clearly not the case, for leering over you was an intruder. The man was big, far bigger than you, and had one of his rough hands wrapped around your wrists, keeping them against the mattress. His other hand covered your mouth, keeping your sobs echoing throughout the room, though your tears were still visible. You were doing your best to try to buck your attacker off of you, but he was clearly too much for you. For a moment, all Bakugou could think of was just how small, just how delicate and fragile, you looked.

           “C’mon baby girl, don’t you want me to make you feel good?” the man hissed at you. But you only continued in your attempts to force him off of you. “Fine. Stay still and take it, you bitch.” Hearing that, more than anything else, shocked Bakugou back to his senses.

           “Get. Your. Filthy. Fucking. Hands. Off. Of. Her.” Bakugou growled, already approaching.  Both you and the intruder turned your gaze towards Bakugou, relief trembling in your heart and arrogance swelling in your attacker’s. The room was still dark, and so the man hadn’t realized who exactly Bakugou was yet. So instead of trying to run as he should have, the man simply pulled out his gun and pointed it at Bakugou.

           “You know, I was able to tell from the size of this place that there’d be some nice shit to take,” the man snarled back, “but I didn’t there’d be anything this pretty here. I’m not about to let such a find go to waste, so how about you sit your ass down and maybe I’ll let you both live.” The rage already building in Bakugou reached a new peak at that, and he didn’t even deign to give a formal response. No, he simply narrowed his blazing eyes at your attacker and leaped forward.

           There was no time for the intruder to shoot, no time for him even to blink. Bakugou reached him before he even realized what was happening, tackling him off of you and onto the floor. Knocking the gun away, Bakugou let off an explosion right in his face, making sure to keep it small so that it wouldn’t reach you. Immediately afterwards, Bakugou punched your attacker in the face, over and over again. The man was screaming and groaning, and Bakugou enjoyed every second of it. How dare this piece of shit put his hands on you! How dare he try to hurt you! With each drop of blood that appeared, Bakugou only hit harder, determined to make this shithead suffer as much as possible before killing him. Soon enough though, a bit too soon for Bakugou’s taste, the man’s eyes closed and his breaths finally ceased.

           Standing up slowly, Bakugou panted heavily and turned to you. Rage and fear and love still crashed through him like stormy ocean waves, drowning him in their wake. All he was able to do for a minute was to look at you, to remind his roaring heart that you were all right. After that silent minute was up, once Bakugou was finally able to see, able to accept, that you were safe now, it was as if a string inside of him snapped, and he stumbled towards you.

           His arms flung around you, Bakugou held onto you tightly, simply needing to feel your skin against his, so soft compared to his own. Cautiously, he lifted a hand to your head, not wanting to startle you. Gently, he weaved his fingers into your hair, stroking it as softly as he could. Your breathing calming his own, Bakugou pulled away and looked into your eyes.

           “I—I’m sorry,” he muttered bitterly, not angry at you but at himself.

           “Why are you sorry?” you whispered back, still trying to process what had happened.

           “Because I let that bastard get in here,” Bakugou said, casting his eyes down in furious shame. “Because I didn’t stop him sooner. Because I promised to keep you safe and I failed.” The regret, the guilt in his voice came through with such a rawness that you could not help but have it strike your heart. Yes, Bakugou had kidnapped you, but tonight he had saved you. And even before this, he had never so much as laid a hand on you, giving you all of the kindness and space and time that he could spare. Was it any wonder, then, that your heart ached at the sight of him like this?

           Lifting your hand slowly, you brought it up to Bakugou’s face and cupped his cheek. When you saw the crimson eyes of your rescuer meet your own, you were able to muster up a small smile. Bakugou saw the gratitude expressed there and felt his heavy heart lighten, if only slightly.

           “You have nothing to be sorry about,” you murmured quietly. “You saved me. It’s only because of you that I’m okay.”

           Bakugou opened his mouth in response, looking very much like he was going to argue with that.

           “Bakugou, if it weren’t for you, I’d—” you couldn’t continue, choking on the words you had tried to say. Bakugou saw the way your mouth twisted, the way your face paled and promptly tightened his grip on you, not enough to hurt, but enough to reassure you, keep you tethered to the present. Leaning forward, Bakugou pressed his forehead against yours.

           “I wouldn’t have let that happen. I’ll never let anything to happen to you.”

           “I know. Thank you.” Those last two words wrapped themselves around Bakugou’s mind, soothing the remaining rage and shame that lingered there. Those were the kindest words you had ever said to him, and that more than anything gave him hope. Tonight was a mistake, but maybe it would help you realize just how much you needed him. How much he loved you.

           About an hour later, after making you some tea and disposing of the shithead’s body, Bakugou reentered his bedroom. You were on the bed, just as he had left you, having long since finished your tea. Resting his a hand gently on your head, he smiled tiredly down at you.

           “You’ll sleep here tonight, I’m going to take your room,” Bakugou told you firmly, not about to let you sleep in the room where you had been attacked, where blood still laid on the carpet. What you said next though, shocked him to his core.

           “Could—could you stay here, please? I don’t want to be alone.” Trying to keep the urge to smile at bay, Bakugou nodded. Helping you pull back the blankets, he settled into bed, brushing your skin and feeling your warmth, and slept soundly.

[beebeyjuice]

Beezleboss (Beetlejuice*x Neutral!Reader x OC) NSFW-ish

I have to complete anessaya dn I’m over here awake, listening to Tenacious D so just take it okay? just take it and...cuddle with it. It needs to be cuddled with.

*I may add the rock!BJ AU and Devil!BJ tag because...it’s fucking Tenacious D what other excuse do I have???

Warnings: Mentions of R*pe, drugs, with a little dark humour* (read after the ellipses)

Update: It is 4 am...I started at 1 am. I liked this story very much :D. Enjoy.

Published: 4/11/20

https://soundcloud.com/butcher-ben-592/tenacious-d-beezleboss

~~~

I was sitting on the couch, strumming the guitar semi-consciously while waiting for my roommate to put the pot in the bong. The notes rolled off like a god was savoring the delicious riffs that kept on cooking. We alternated the use of the pick that we have found, and with its existence our lives gotten better. We gotten fame, money, a taste of both pussy and dick, because why the fuck not?

We even got a new friend, our agent, who’s nickname was Beezleboss. Sure it was a weird name, but there’s even weirder ones that are accepted by the crowd. Maybe he wanted to join the band?

(Y/N) came into the living room with the bag in their hand and sit next to me, and I placed the guitar in the stand. The pick I placed on the necklace frame. We both have our own necklace that holds the pick so it wouldn’t be as easy to lose it. It had its own eight, and its own disadvantages-

For one...we sometimes get paranoid and we forget the other one has it. Sometimes I’m up at 3 AM on the roof in my underwear and braless desperately looking for it, but then realization hits like a motherfucker when I realize that 1) (Y/N) has and 2) I am never on the roof for whatever reason, nice view though. It is always a nice view, it would be fun to fuck someone...maybe Beezlebub? Bezebos? Beteljuice? Juice...

“Hey (Y/N) hand me the orange juice will ya?” I asked and made a grabby motion and thanking them for the carton.

Our phones vibrated and (Y/N) leant over on her right side to scan the screen while holding the bong in her hand, “Oh hey it’s Beezleboss, wants to meet us in the front yard.”

Confused, I asked, “Why didn’t he just come in like he always does?”

You shrugged your shoulders and set down the bong gently, bitch, you’re never gently with my stuff.

~~

I dressed up, well...put on a bra because I didn’t want to deal with the sweat stains when I’m inside the house and followed you outside to meet our manager. Sometimes (Y/N) and I speak freely in our home how much we really want to fuck him...oh my goood was he just delicious-looking. He can join our little band anytime if it means we just hop on and-

“Hey boss, how’s it going?” you greeted with a smile and pulled him in a hug.

He smiled, his canines (fuuuck me he can mark me anytime) showed as he returned the hug, “Pretty good, I was just strolling by see how you guys are.” When he released the hug, he pulled back to adjust the striped jacket. He had such an unusual sense of fashion, but he was so fucking adorable. Sometimes I don’t know whether to pinch his cheeks or to whip his sweet thicc butt *I felt my head tilt a little to scan the curves* or to just...take me.

I know (Y/N) is thinking those dirty ass thoughts, they do this little thing by crossing their arms across their chest and and using the fingernail of their pinky to scratch their arm lightly to ground them to reality and not slip into their sexual fantasies. I’m pretty sure they want to see him in a leather outfit, and god do I as well. I’m more of an emotionless, “zoning out” kind of person. I scanned his body and when I watched those gorgeous hazel eyes, only for them to have a direct contact do I smile and go over to hug them. I had no fucking clue what they were talking about but they didn’t say my name. I held him in a side-hug, resting my hand on my hip as I now enter the conversation, “Boss, you looking sexy as ever.” I reported, serious and saluting him  as that was the most important part of the discussion. We both saw the sudden blush and timidness that appeared and I leaned back slightly, made direct eye contact with you and went from an emotionless expression to a wide grin and a thumbs up liek it was indeed the mst blessful day ever. I got away with these comments because it was common, (Y/N), however, that (gurl/boi/madamonsieure)....that’s 50 shades of F.U.C.K.E.D.U.P., my comments were NOTHING compared to what this sex demon had to offer

~Flashback~

Me: Yo, (Y/N), the city of fallen angels has nothing compare to the operas you perform when you commit to the sexto-y-nueve.

You: *chuckles and you lil shit would grab my chin and lightly graze it*  I will fuck you day and night, from pleasure to pain, whether you want to or not *leans closer* and you will start calling me the Lideric because I will not stop until you say my name like a prayer and your bones will be crumpling, you will be so dehydrated that you will need to go to the hospital constantly to get IV bags injected into your bloodstream that when you waste their resources, you depend on my own cum to keep you alive. *smirks*

Me: ... *mouth gaped*...

You: *taps on my chin and leaves me hanging as you do your research*

Me: Holy shit, mark me down as scared and horny.

~~

You smiled so sweetly as you tried to brush me off, “Ignore her, she’s had too much to drink.”

I lazily pointed at you, objecting your claim, “That is not true...I may have had about two cups of Orange Juice, who knows.” I shrug my shoulders lightly. This made beezleboss chuckle and had a fit of giggles before taking a deep breath to calm down, “Alright, alright, guys I’ve been meaning to tell you about this..situation that I’m in and-” now I slowly unglueed myself from the manager made slow, long steps to stand next to you, “...que paso, compadre?”

He was confused, trying to understand why I got so defensive and ready to beat his cute butt off the driveway.

“I hope it isn’t to tell us you won’t be our manager.” You stated bluntly, always more mature than me. Now I was able to see the rings that decorated his fingers, the black fingernails, the green hair that was slicked back, his skin slightly palish as always.

When he laughed, he shooked his heads, “No noo, that is not it nah- uh it has to do with production.”

I tilt my head to the side, “But we just finished producing songs yesterday.” I say in a high-pitch voice to make aware of my confusion.

He nods, “Yes, you have.” He grins, now there was one canine tooth that was visible and I was confused. I wasn’t going to address the lost tooth, but you sighed softly, “Right, I think I know what you mean. Mija, let’s grab our guitars and go to the studio and make a few more songs.” When you walked passed me, you added: “Besides, we have a few songs under our sleeves.” and you glanced down on the silver necklace.

I smile and nodded in affirmation then looked at our boss, “We’ll be right back!” and I ran, following you. When I walked up the stairs to the door, I reached up to the necklace and looked down to see the empty frame. I smiled, then I suddenly panicked. My eyes widen, and my body tensed up. I rushed to you, nearly pinning you against the wall. You were taken off guard, raising the guitars above our heads, “Mija! Watch it, you almost made drop the guitars-”

“Listen to me, and I mean....fucking. listen to me.” My voice was shaking, my hands were trembling and I was on brink in crying, “I...lost the pick.” and I sucked in my lips. Your eyes widen, lowering your arms, “Whatthefuckdoyoumeanyoulostthefuckingpick.” You said faster than you ever said anything in your life.

“I mean...I lost the pick. It was in the frame, and now it’s gone. We have to distract him, we have to distract boss and I have to look for the pick.”

~~~

Meanwhile, Beezleboss, who waited patiently, smirked slowly as he raised his hand to reveal the glowing green pick. The pick transformed into a canine tooth that was possible for him to shape shift into his true form: His eye color changed from the hazel to the golden orbs, his mouth opened slightly to reveal the two pairs of canines into two rows of sharp teeth. He stuck out his tongue for it to be fork-pitched and slithering to get the sensation used to.His suit got dirtier in means that it was aging, horns grew from the temples, making an upward curve. His finger nails grew into claws and he was more pale, like beige white paper. A tail was revealed from under the coat and flicked a few times, it stretched as well, curling a few times before making it rest on the concrete floor.

He lolled his head, making a growling sound emit from his throat as he was relieved to be in his true form, ready to take your souls to the netherworld and make you two suffer from the pain he had to endure with the stupid breathers.

~~~

I paced back and forth, repeating fragments and ideas before you take my shoulder, “We’re gonna find the pick, and we are going to make music after, okay?” You gave me my guitar and I put on the strap, “Y-yeah, yeah, we’re gonna find it.” I repeated, doing the habit of rubbing my fingertips and we headed out the door. However, when we walked outside, we screamed in horror as we jumped in our arms.

“IT’S SHOOOOWTIME!!~” The entity sanged in his gravelly voice, even biting his lip as he heard the screams, blinking only to smirk towards us, his golden eyes filled with rage and mischief.

We separated from each other to fully observe the demon, monster whatever it was that was in front of us, speechless in the moment.

He spread his arms apart as he says in a guttural tone: “I am complete!!”

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck” (Y/N) and I synced, really progressing what was going on.

“Yes you are Fucked! Shit out of Luck! Now I’m complete and my Cock you will suck!” and he proceeded to open the jacket slightly to thrust his hips forwards to mimic the fucking motion, “This world will be mine, and you’re first in line, You brought me the pick and now you shall both die!”

I was frozen in place, my eyes could not tear off. I must be high, I must be.

But I hear (Y/N)...sing? After all, he did sounded like he was singing too in the way that he spoke.

“Waaaaaiit! Waaaaiiit Waaait you motherfucker!” and I finally looked over at (Y/N) who stepped forward and pointed at him, “We challenge youu to a rock off!”

They brought the guitar in hand, ready to play, only before he pointed at the demon with their basic pick, “Give us one chance to rock your socks off!...”

I swore I saw a little hip jiggle when you sang that part softly.

I know looked at the demon who looked ready to kill us, but was distressed.

“Fuck!” He turned around, his back facing us. Well, at least his ass looked better. “Fuck! Fuuuuuuck.” He growled, turning back around after clenching his hands and even running his hands through his hair, “The demon code prevents me,” and when he turned around, a scroll appeared in his hands. He looked annoyed, if not irritated at the challenge that my roommate came up with, “From declining a rock off challenge. WHat. are your terms, what’s the ca-a-atch~.”

Now it was our time, (Y/N) looked back at me and I was trying to tell you something but nothing came out. I was too scared,

“Four things, two from me and two from her!” You shouted, looking back at him, “...If we win, you must take your sorry aaasssss back to heeeelll. And also you will have to pay our reeent.”

I actually thought that was a good idea, and I nodded slowly in agreement but also respect for thinking outside of the box.

“And what if I win?..” His hand raised to graze his beard and the growls came back, and there was a chill in both our backs.

“...” Now I’m stuck.

“...Then you can take her back to hell...” (Y/N) suggested, shrugging her shoulders in an inquisitive way, to see if it would work. I nodded mindlessly before those words clicked. I quickly snapped my head to you, worried as fuck, “...What?!”

I stepped forward to you.

They looked straight ahead before glancing at me, “Trust me mija, it’s the only whey.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I asked in a panicked tone, only to be grabbed by them. Their arm wrapped around me , the other on my abdominal area as we both looked straight.

“To be your little..” and then I feel someone groping my chest, “bitch.” they finished and I snapped at them.

Partially satisfied, with an eye roll, he announced: “Fine! Let the Rock off Begin!” and he released a maniacal laughter that would have wet my underwear for multiple reasons besides being scared.

And when he raised his hands, the scene changed. We were caught in the middle of an arena of speakers, a drum set appearing, a microphone sitting in the middle. A guitar and a bass on their stands. We watched three clones appear, each taking their places. The real raised his hand and lowered it as he stood behind the microphone. The drummer was perfect in every way playing the drummer, never missing a beat (no times for puns).

“I’m the devil- I love metal!” They all sang in unison, more guttural than with one, only from the real one to stuck out his tongue and wiggle it at us. We jumped at every chance, fidgety and also speechless at the performance.

The guitarist stepped forward, planting his right foot forward only to succesfully catch out attention when said, “Check this riff is fucking Tasty!!” and proceeded to shred out souls he performed.

Lastly, the real boss, he took the microphone, the tail wrapped around the stand as he sang his verse:

“I’m the devil I can do what I want

Whatever I’ve got I’m gonna flaunt!

There’s never been a rock off that I’ve ever lost!”

I glanced at you in a concerned look, already certain that I’m fucked.

When I look back, however, he revealed a wall of sex toys which made me jump.

“I can’t wait to take her back to hell

I’m gonna fill her with my hot demon gel” and he squirted lube on us, making us jump but me cower behind you.

“I’ll make her squeal like my scarlet pimpernel!” and he mimicked once again the fucking motion. .For a moment, (Y/N) stepped forward and shouted, “NOoooo!” It Boss by surprise, the illusion getting rid of. Head turned over their shoulder, they tried to make me jump in, “Come on Mija, bring the thunder!”

I was hopeless, I was already see the future of being a sexdoll, “There’s just no way that we can win, that was a master piece...”

Now they turned around and grabbed my shoulders, “Listen to me.”

“He rocks to hard because he’s not a mortal man!” I raised my hand at him who was currently smoking a cig.

“God damn it! He’s gonna make you his sex slave, gonna gargle mayonnaise-”

“Nooo” I sobbed.

“Unless we bust a massive monster mama-jam!”

I nodded, understanding you, “We’ve been through so much shit...“

“Deactivated lasers with my dick!” He shouted excitedly, and for a mere second attempted to remember a single memory where they did that.

“Now it’s time to bow this fucker dooown!!” we synced and faced the boss.

I brought out the guitar and began to strum only for you to continue “Come now, it’s time to blow doors down!”

I nodded excitedly, bouncing on my toes, “I hear you man it’s time to blow doors down!”

You posed and danced as you sang, “Light up the stage ‘cause its time for a showdown!”

Now I was confident to step forward with the thanks of my friend, “We’ll bend you over then we’ll take you to Brown Town.”

and we both sang, “Now we’ve got to blow this fucker doown!”

I quickly stated the fact if this does not work: “He’s gonna rape me if we don’t blow doors down!”

“Come on, we must drive it down now”

“Yeah Baby!!”

You confidently pointed at him as you smirked, “Hey anti-christ-er, Beezlboss, we know you’re weekness- OUR ROCKET SAUCE!”

ANd the something came over me that suddenly I stopped playing, only to actually be stuck ina thinking process.

The halt confused you and the boss, “What the fuck was that!” you shouted.

I scanned the boss almost ina  critizing way, “I just realized something...”

“HUH?!” you both responded.

“I never got to say what I wanted.” I stated plainly.

You wacked the back of my head and I nearly tripped.

“You were nearly raped and you’ve got the nerve to say that!”

“Wait cabron listen to me!” you shouted back and the you looked at the boss, “Yo, you gnna destroy the world?”

Speechless, Beezlboss remained there, “Uhhh...no?”

I nodded and process that, “Then how about we forget all this and come inside, become our new roommate and date?”

That question alone made them look around for any secrets cameras of some sort.

“What the fuck is happening..”

“Exactly, you know, when you were human and all, (Y/N) wanted you to fuck us and fuck you. You see them scratch their arm right?”

“yeah...”

“Observant! But that’s their way of not falling into a sexual fantasy! I’m a motherfucking open book that will open her legs with a snap of fingers! Rape is off-limits though!”

“And...?”

“Boy,...you will not hear the end of the day if you let me continue talk when I want to date that sexy ass of yours. ANd now that you have horns, now I have something to hold on when I’m riding- let’s go inside. now.” You made your way inside, shocking both outside.

“Now!!!!” you barked and both (Y/N) and boss head inside. I got closer look and I grin, “Oohh, you managed to get even sexier.”

“Wait...you both....really wanted to fuck me?”

“And date you, don’t forget that. We just didn’t want to make it awkward since you were out manager.” you explained, making you blush from the revelation.

“And you still want to date me?” He asked in clarification and you quickly grabbed his tie and pulled him down in a lustful kiss, taking your hand in mine to pull closer. I introduced tongue and when we pull apart, a string of saliva was attached, “You should wait until (Y/N) opens their mouth. I came three times.” you admitted, “didn’t even touch me.” I smirked, “Now come on, let’s ignore what just happened and just get on with it yeah?” you asked and leaned forward to kiss his neck. You blushed so hard, you felt him place his hand on your waist and nodded to male the move. His expression soften up and you leaned forward to kiss him, already twirling tongues.

One thing for sure, this relationship is the best one ever made.

[taylorpixiedust]

The first meeting of Seto, a powerful deity of destruction in demigod form, and Sawyer, a man who will soon join Admintale, a mercenary group seeking to save the world. More writing and progress images below the cut. ~~~

Sawyer thanked the vendor for the food that he had gotten, and moved to one of the many benches that lined the market. He could do some thinking there, if he didn’t finish his pastries before he got there. With the speed that he was eating them, he just might do that. 

In fact, before he even understood his decision, he had already finished his tray and discarded the paper tray in the bin that was available to him.

Now onto the real event. He walked towards the building that most interested him, since it had the name of a man he had met on it, and opened the door.

He saw an employee at the front desk sweeping behind the counter, and he looked up at Sawyer as he stepped into the room. Suddenly, he realized his mistake.

“Oh, crap. I’m sorry. You guys are closing. I’ll come back tomorrow,” he told them, but before he could walk back outside, the door slammed shut and locked itself, “What the hell?”

Out of the office in the right corner of the building, a cloaked man opened the door and smiled at Sawyer before he could even realize who it was. He took down his hood and showed a familiar mop of brown hair and a red bandanna keeping it in.

“Get in, loser,” Seto told him, chuckling with Sawyer as he followed the fortune teller’s instructions.

As Seto closed the door behind him, he looked around to look at the room and took in his surroundings, like the chair that sat before him, and the crystal ball that had been placed on the counter, likely for appearance rather than function. Seto himself had walked around the table and sat down in his office chair, which he soon dragged towards the table.

“Please, sit down. Make yourself comfortable,” Seto requested, and Sawyer complied with what he had asked of him. He had some faith that he wouldn’t poison him or anything. The male before him placed his hands into his lap and smiled at him, and Sawyer returned the expression.

“How are you today?” he asked, to which Sawyer groaned.

“Not great. I’m trying to get used to being out and about, but being in the house my whole life doesn’t really help,” he replied, earning a nod from Seto, who used his legs to pull himself towards the table.

“Well, it’s a start,” Seto told him, “What brings you here? I already foresaw your appearance here, but I can’t sense your motive. I can only assume curiosity.” He nodded and shrugged.

“Basically. I wanted to see if this was anything like the ones at home, which are all just scams,” he informed Seto, who nodded and laughed quietly.

His solemn expression contrasted the chuckles that escaped him. For anybody else, it would have been spooky, but Sawyer knew how he was doing it quite well.

“Back before I inherited the place,” referring to the shop they were currently in, “it was a scam as well. My parents were robbing people of their money, in addition to lying to their faces. In fact, I’m the only reason that it’s still around today, as I’m actually able to sense the future. My first prediction was the day that my parents were murdered, and it came true even years after.” Sawyer’s eyes widened. He knew that feeling, but to know that he was right as a child was impressive.

“In any case, how about we get started?” He rolled up his sleeve to match Sawyer’s, and gave him a calm look.

“I’m going to need your hand.”

Sawyer seized up when he revealed this, and became reluctant to listen to his instruction.

“Do I have to?” he asked, slowly taking off his glove as he did so, and the man across from him nodded, as well as outstretching his left hand. 

Fortunately, that was the hand that Sawyer had undressed, enabling him to give him his hand, but not before standing up to reach the male, who shut his eyes to concentrate.

“Now, I’m going to need you to tell me your name.” Sawyer had already given him a cover name, which most people used to refer to him. His world had basically required that, so he stayed calm in knowing that he might not have to reveal his true name.

“Nevin Vaur-” Before he could finish, Seto pressed his thumb into Sawyer’s palm, making him stop in his sentence.

“I understand your concern, but there’s nothing to worry about here. I’m going to need you to tell me your actual name.” 

“...Sawyer Wikstrom.” As soon as it was said, Seto began moving his thumb lightly across the cracks in his palm, still with his eyes closed. Then, suddenly, he nodded.

“You’re not truly human, are you? There isn’t a true block, but the life within you is different. More... mechanical, per se.” Sawyer gulped.

“I’m a construct,” he revealed, praying to whatever god would hear him that Seto wouldn’t pry. Instead, he simply nodded, and continued down a crack that didn’t even exist, weaving around the others like a river.

“Is your brother doing well?” Sawyer let out an affirmation, and Seto smiled, “Good. I was hoping that he hadn’t gotten assaulted yet, seeing your realm. It’s practically inevitable.”

“You got that right,” Sawyer informed him. Though, Seto then diverged onto a different part of his palm, following a curve, then suddenly dipping around another, and going towards his thumb.

“And Cerulean? How is he?” Sawyer smiled. He, too, had met Seto a few months prior on their first anniversary. It was a day they’d never forget.

“He’s doing well. His therapist is trying to move towards helping him with his fear of being touched.” 

“I’m glad he’s doing well,” he told him, but quickly turned his expression back to neutral, “Do you believe him when he says that you saved his life?” Sawyer scratched his neck with his free hand.

“I like to believe that he saved his own. He’s a strong guy. Never one to give up on anything.”

“The day that you met was only two days before he had planned to commit suicide.” The shock that went up Sawyer’s spine was unfamiliar, but still able to be discerned as sudden epiphany. His eyes widened as Seto firmly pushed his thumb across the midsection of his palm.

He’s definitely not faking this.

Suddenly, he slowly opened his eyes, and looked up at Sawyer.

“Your life is held in the hands of Destiny. The path that you currently walk leads you to a long life, but be weary, for any sudden change of pace may be your end. Or it may take you to a more fulfilling life. Joy, pain, suffering, happiness, failure, triumph. Not only are they subjective, they are also immeasurable by simply a glance. You have a chance at anything, but there are events even I cannot foresee simply by looking into your heart.”

His grip loosened, but didn’t fully part with his appendage. Seto took a deep breath, and looked into his eyes.

“Would you like to go deeper?”

“Dude, I have so many questions.” Seto smiled.

“Ask away.”

“What names do you want? Like, I know some pe-” Seto cut him off.

“The ones they go by. Nevin, for you, is a cover name, not the name that you officially use. If a transgender person were to come in here, I would use their current name. A dead name is a dead name, and I won’t use it. My brother is an example of that. I wouldn’t use his dead name. I would use Ty or Idreiun. Don’t ask me how those two relate to each other. They just do.”

Sawyer just got over it and moved on.

“How do you figure this shit out?” Seto’s free hand made a playful wave movement.

“Magic.”

“Okay. That doesn’t help me with the rest of my questions. I’m ready to move on.” Seto nodded and closed his eyes along with taking a deep breath and placing his thumb on one of the internal gears in Sawyer’s hand, the main reason he wears gloves.

“You fear what is within you, but it may soon be to your benefit. Change may be inevitable, but that gives you no reason to completely rework who you are as your creators sought to.” Thankfully, he didn’t mention the perpetual motion of the rotations, and released the clockwork piece.

“I would prefer if you closed your eyes. I understand that you want to see your surroundings out of perceived necessity, but you may not like what you find.” Sawyer chuckled a little bit.

“I’m an assassin. A murderer. I’ve seen my fair share of scary things. Try me.”

Seto’s sigh was audible as he mumbled, “if you say so...”

An inky black mass drove its way up the back of Seto’s neck, and curled around the base of his jaw before dividing into seven points towards his face, mostly his eyes, which had closed. This alone hadn’t shocked Sawyer much, as Death had also done this before, but when Seto roughly tapped the floor of his own office, he could hear glass crack.

“What was that?”

Suddenly, he saw it.

Reality itself was breaking apart into shards upon shards of glass floating in a light pink void, taking pieces of his office with it. He had hardly noticed that the entire floor had similarly broken apart.

Meanwhile, the employee at the front desk took a long sip of his iced coffee, knowing that this happens at least twice a week.

“Seto, what the Hell is happening?” Sawyer asked, desperately trying to get his attention as a similarly dark pair of wings began growing out of his back, sprouting from the ink.

Sawyer glanced at the walls, which were also beginning to shatter, and began shaking. He looked at the flickering light, fearing the worst, and then back at Seto, who had darkness writhing around his features.

“Seto?”

The male suddenly opened his eyes forcefully, suddenly consuming the remaining parts of the office, causing the table and crystal ball to disappear completely, and soon doing the same to the other objects in the area. Unfortunately, Sawyer found himself terrified by everything around him, including the morphing of his nails into venom-tipped claws, and his eyes completely changing. The whites of them had turned black, with his irises turning purple and pupils becoming a void of burgundy.

Soon, however, he fell to the ground, no longer holding Seto’s hand, and stared at the male in fear.

“I warned you.”

“You did,” Sawyer laughed to counteract the paralyzing fear that had overcome him, but he found his arm being lifted by something fluffy. 

He looked down to see a gray wolf nuzzling its way under his arm, and pressed its nose into his chest. Sawyer scratched the wolf behind its ears, slowly adjusting to the environment, and watched as it followed Seto, who was walking away. He, too stood up and followed him, still afraid, but comforted by the wolf at his side.

“Come now.”

Sawyer trekked up to match Seto’s pace, and looked at his face’s ever-moving markings.

“So, why are we here? And where is here?” he asked, to which Seto outstretched his arm, causing a series of images to appear.

“Welcome to the Plane of Shattered Glass. Not very creatively named, but instrumental to our existence,” he began, “This was the place where the creators of the world grew, learned, and began creation with the discovery of fire. Through this place, people like myself convene with aspects of reality, For example, Death. Or, as some like to call him, Reaper. He uses this plane to come into realization of a person’s life to determine how judgement should be exacted. Delvon as well. He and his brother use it to find the roots of emotion within people, and edit them to a certain extent.”

Sawyer interjected with the statement, “I thought that was just an aura.” Seto quickly countered the statement.

“It is. However, it works through this plane by altering reality slightly. As for myself, it’s a more complicated situation. I don’t have time to explain the entirety of my purpose here. What I will say is that I use it to see not only the future, but the truth.” The entire time, images of various people using the plane to contact parts of reality to view, and two figures of opposite aspects creating the world that they exist in. Sawyer reached out to touch one of them, and it lit up with a white outline. 

“Those two are Mother and Father, the ones that created us. Father is a being of law, order, water, animal life, the land we walk on, and judgement. In fact, he created the planes of the afterlife before he was exiled by his successors. Mother was the one to create fire, the air, humans, society, the arts, but is a being of chaos, battle, victory, vengeance, along with fate itself and stories. She escaped exile by moving into a different realm of existence altogether before she could be overthrown.” Sawyer looked at his hand, but soon looked at Seto.

“So, the sermons that the churches here hold are...?” he began, but was finished by Seto.

“Fabrications of the truth. The stories that they tell are true, but the purpose that they hold for them is twisted. They say belief alone will free Mother, but she isn’t trapped anywhere that we know of. I’d rather not speak of them. Let’s move on.” Seto walked away from the circle of pictures, which then disappeared, and moved towards what looked like the office.

“Wait, are we leaving now?” Seto laughed.

“No, this is simply for concentration purposes.” The wolf from before raced ahead and sat beside Sawyer’s chair, which was then occupied by its owner. Seto soon reflected his position, tapping the crystal ball briefly to ignite a series of colors and images, which were practically indiscernable.

“As I mentioned before, your current path leads you to a long life, but you will soon have a chance to change it forever. Soon, however, could still mean in a few years. Your life may lengthen, or it may shorten. It depends on your choices when you reach that fork in the road. Once you do, your tree will sprout and branch out with each and every decision.” He rubbed the surface of the ball to mirror his own face, and closed his eyes as more images flashed before them.

“Fear will not always be your friend. Your current understanding of the world will help you, but only to a certain extent. Every preparation in the world may be scorned, betrayed, in an instant. With one wrong move, your fear will allow grief, guilt, and anger to follow. Remember that you live with Death at your side. Be that as it may, it is a double-edged sword that could tear your life apart. Be wary, for the uncertainty of life is ever-present, and even you, as a mechanical being, cannot escape an eventual end.”

“Can’t you just tell me how I die so that I could avoid it?”

“No. Even if I could see your death. I see the beginning and middle of an ongoing story, not the end.”

“Point taken.”

“Regardless. People will change you and how you think, feel, and act around others. Sometimes, this is simply the truth, and others, it is how you react to your boundaries being broken. Stay wary of those who seek to harm you, but don’t keep your guard fully up. Allow some change to occur. It’s the only way to form bonds that truly matter.”

As he finished that sentence, the office came back into reality, with shards aligning themselves to form the floor, and the objects in the room returning.

“One with darkness and violence surrounding them, but a core as light as the grass that grows will enter your life at a point of strife and fear. When they do, be cautious, for they are the one that will lead this world to victory. However, should they perish, you will cease to exist as well.”

With that, the darkness in their face and back disappeared, along with the wolf, and the claws at the ends of his hands.

“That will be all.” Sawyer looked around.

“How do I pay you.”

“Normally, I’d say at the front desk, but this one’s on me.”

Now with new knowledge and a reasonable amount of fear of the man he had somehow spent half an hour talking to, Sawyer gave his goodbyes and walked out of the shop, which was way past closing times.

Years later, as he stared down the barrel of his pistol, he remembered what had been said, and allowed himself to be prevented from shooting the one whose family had ruined many lives. Penelope Hutson was safe. For how long was a different question.

~~~

Progress images:

as you can see  this was hell