#sorry mostly irrelevant i know this guy just gets on my fucking nerves

[cunagussos]

obnoxious professor that I've had before and never liked told me (somewhat passive aggressively but thats justified) that my attendance thru out this semester was a huge issue and I was like. yeah thats real and I gave a very sincere and honest apology, explained myself without making excuses, and expressed that I meant no disrespect to him and thanked him profusely for his help after id been kind of a shit. mind you this interaction was only after I had to email him a second time because he ignored my first email for half a week. and now he's ignoring me again and not replying even though I had time sensitive questions about the work in my email. and like he called me a hypocrite bc I as a teacher obviously want my kids to show up but like. while again true i am a hypocrite. I did have students that struggled IMMENSELY with attendance and I had a hell of a time trying to convince them not to skip class but at least I had the presence of mind to fucking realize that if I was an ass to my chronically truant kids then they were just gonna be more likely to skip. like its just driving them away. I was always friendly w my truant kids and genuinely excited to see them in class and was as welcoming and accommodating as possible and you know what. they fucking showed up more. they trusted me enough to tell me ehat was going on or to ask me for help. like if you're just gonna fucking be bitchy with me and then ghost me repeatedly to put me in my place obviously I'm just gonna give up on trying to fix this. think for two fucking seconds. I'm a jerk but you're a dumbass

[whentommymetalfie]

Lights On

A/N: A quick little one shot I wrote for the Tommy/Alfie prompt fest over on Ao3. Modern AU and not connected to any of my other works. Established relationship and lots of hurt/comfort. 

Summary: Every year on Bonfire Night, Tommy hides under the covers terrified by all the fireworks, this year Alfie is under the covers with him comforting him.

Tommy doesn’t acknowledge him. His breathing continues to come in erratic burst, wheezing out of his throat. Alfie strokes his hair

“It‘s just noise, love, just noise,” he whispers. “It’s scary fucking noise, I’ll give you that, all those bangs. But it’s just noise."

Pairing: Tommy/Alife

Wordcount: 1800

Warnings: ptsd

Never fucking drive in London... Alfie should know better by now and he thoroughly hates himself for this decision, as well as the one to ‘just swing by for some groceries’ despite working late in the bakery to prepare a dough. But his royal highness Thomas Michael Shelby will be most displeased if there’s no milk tomorrow and honestly, whatever his princess wants, he shall have. If only because it gives Alfie the excuse to say that exact phrase and watch Tommy scowl at him.

Right now however, he’s fairly sure Tommy would’ve taken his tea without milk indefinitely if it had meant Alfie would’ve been home on time.

Finally, he has to give up and park several blocks away from their apartment. And it’s possible the front tire ends up on the sidewalk, but that seems completely irrelevant at the moment. Far above him, the smattering of fireworks continue relentlessly. He slams the door shut using his foot, one arm around the bag of groceries and fishing for his mobile in his coat pocket with his free hand. The signals go through, but there’s no answer. Making his way down the street he starts typing out yet another text, despite the three previous ones remaining unanswered. Will be home in less than five minutes love-

“Oi, watch where you’re-“

He doesn’t even slow down to apologize to the highly offended owner of the voice.

Two minutes later, he’s standing outside their apartment, cursing and wrestling with the locks on the door, wondering who on earth decided doors needed this many fucking locks. If people are determined enough to break in and have gotten through one lock, why would a second one stop them? Would they suddenly fucking… give up halfway through?

Finally he gets the door open.

“Tommy, love, I’m so sorry I’m late. It‘s fucking bullshit this… was an accident on the A40 and I had to-“ He struggles out of his boots, leaving them haphazardly in the middle of the hallway. “Had to fucking take the tunnel, didn’t I? Yeah. Absolute fucking bullshit- Some people clearly shouldn’t be operating any vehicle more complicated than a bike.“

All the lights are on in the apartment, but Tommy is nowhere to be seen.

“Tommy?” He shoves the entire bag of groceries into the fridge -fuck actually sorting them into shelves, he’s got more important things to do, and then sets off towards the bedroom.

There’s a small lump in the middle of the bed, covered entirely by the duvet and several blankets.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he sighs as he walks up to the bed, sinking down onto the mattress and rubbing his palm over the figure. “It’s okay.”

The lump remains motionless but he feels the slight tremors under his palm, can hear the hitched breaths. When he lifts the covers ever so slightly he finds Tommy curled up into a tightly wounded ball, knees drawn up to his chest, face tucked against them and arms covering his head. He’s not just trembling, but actually shaking violently, which becomes painfully clear now. When a smattering of fireworks go off just a block or two away, he lets out a choked whimper and winds his fingers into his hair.

“It’s alright, love, I’m here now,” Alfie says and lies down behind him, pulling the covers up over them both again. Then he curls himself around his quivering frame, opting for wrapping an arm all the way over his knees and letting him stay in his position. Tommy doesn’t acknowledge him. His breathing continues to come in erratic burst, wheezing out of his throat. Alfie strokes his hair

“It‘s just noise, love, just noise,” he whispers. “It’s scary fucking noise, I’ll give you that, all those bangs. But it’s just noise. Happy people who just want an excuse to play with a bit of… fire and gunpowder, but it’s all fun and games. And the worst that’ll come out of it are all those colourful plastic bits you find all over the city for days afterwards.”

He presses a kiss against the nape of his neck.

“You’re home, you’re safe, and no one in the world will ever hurt you again. Because I’m going to personally hunt them down and end them in the most painful way possible if they do.”

There’s a high bang right outside the bloody window and Tommy lets out a horrified shriek that seems to cut like a dagger through his chest. Then there’s another one and Alfie realises that whoever is setting those off is hanging out on the street beneath their flat. If he listens closely, he can hear the unmistakable drunken hollering of a few lads apparently having the time of their fucking life out there.

When the third firecracker goes off, Tommy starts crying. This heart wrenching, desperately frightened sound that cuts him to his very core.

And fuck it, Alfie might not be able to do anything about the entire goddamn city losing their collective mind, but he can at the very least keep them away from this small patch of street…

“I’ll be right back, love,” he promises in a whisper and squeezes Tommy tightly, before climbing out of bed and stomping over to the window. He throws it open and stares down at the street, where a group of five young men are having a grand ole time with a box of matches and far more firecrackers than anyone should reasonably have. Which of course must break all sorts of laws but he couldn’t give less of a fuck -as long as they’re far away from here.

“Oi, you fucking lot!” he bellows and successfully gains the attention of at least two of them -one wearing a spectacularly dumb hat with some print he can’t read but instantly hates anyway, and one with a slightly less dumb hat. “Fuck off with that noise will you?”

“Nah, you fucking…fuck off,” Dumb Hat Guy yells back. Now, that’s really fucking eloquent, innit?  

“Alright, this is the deal,” Alfie barks at them, somehow trying to burn Dumb Hat alive with his gaze alone. “I’ve got someone up here who can’t fucking stand all this noise. So if I have to fucking tell you again, I’m going to come down there and shove one of those so far up your arse you can fire it through your fucking mouth!” He does wish he was a bit closer -he cuts a more imposing figure face to face, he’s well aware. But thank fuck the guys don’t seem to be out for trouble tonight.

“Fucking fine,” Less Dumb Hat Guy bellows as Dumb Hat Guy starts dragging him down the street to join their three friends, who are blessing the neighbourhood with a terribly off key version of God save the queen.

All things considered that went easier than expected. Alfie shoves the window closed and quickly returns to the bed and Tommy, who hasn’t moved an inch since he left, still shaking violently and choking out heart wrenching sobs. He pulls him close again.

“There we go, they went away. I know I can’t make all of the noise stop, but it’s a start,” he whispers and rubs his palm over his side. “But it’ll stop soon, I promise.”

For a bit, there’s no change: Tommy stays curled up so tightly that Alfie thinks he might’ve frozen like that, the quiet sobs wracking his frame. Alfie just holds him. Holds him, shushes him gently and mutters soothing nonsense against the soft skin on the back of his neck. It’s all he can do for now. He wishes he didn’t have to know shit like that, but things are the way they are, right? So he’s well versed in how these things usually go. And he knows that right now, Tommy can’t quite hear him. Mostly just registers that he’s there, that he’s not alone. But there’s no point in getting into elaborate stories. Simply repeating that he’s safe, that he’s not alone and holding him is enough.  

Bit by bit, Tommy’s muscles seem to soften, and his legs relax enough for Alfie to wrap the arm around his waist instead. He places a hand on his chest, feeling the quick pitter patter of Tommy’s heart against his palm. Like a frightened rabbit’s. He pulls him a bit closer. Hoping his own heartbeat will somehow seep into Tommy’s chest and calm his racing pulse.

The fireworks continue to thunder in the distance.

“So, a lady came to the bakery today,” he begins quietly. “Wanted to buy raisin bagels. Of all the things in the world. Whoever began stuffing raisins into perfectly good bread should be charged for their heinous crimes against humanity.“

He talks a bit about the nerve of certain people. It’s becoming quite warm and stuffy underneath the duvet, but it’s a small price to pay. Whatever makes Tommy feel even marginally more safe is worth it. As he talks, he can feel Tommy relax further into his embrace. Finally he turns around to face him, burying his face in his chest.

“Would you like to get out of these clothes, love?” he asks then. “Think you’d be more comfortable.”

After getting a small nod in response, he helps Tommy out of his clothes and goes to turn the light off, making sure to first switch on the lamp on the bedside table. When he climbs back into bed, Tommy is watching him from under heavy eyelids, his long lashes still wet with tears. God, if he could, he’d go out there and personally rip the fireworks from each and every fucking idiot holding them, consequences be damned. A statement that when said out loud finally earns him a faint smile, even as Tommy still trembles ever so slightly.

Soon, Tommy is safely wrapped up in his arms again, face buried in his chest. Outside, another round of fireworks go off right nearby and like clockwork, his breathing hitches.

“Did I ever tell you about the time me and my cousin tried to build a hot air balloon and send his action figure to the moon?” Alfie asks and Tommy makes a noise that could almost be the beginning of a quiet laugh.

“I don’t think so.”

“Well, it’s an excellent, excellent story, so strap yourself in,” he says and starts stroking his hair again, raking his nails softly against his scalp. “So, me and my cousin, right, we used to spend a few weeks every year at his grandmother’s place outside Margate. Big fields and all that, and-“

It’s a long story. And once that is finished, he follows it up with another one, and another, as the fireworks outside continue to brighten the sky into blue and green and red. Tommy clings tightly to him, as if he’s drowning. Perhaps he is, in a way. But Alfie will do his best to keep him afloat.  

[smellycinnamonthundahfudge]

Take Flight

Brad confronts MJ about her and Peter's relationship on the plane ride home to NY as Peter watches the conversation from afar.

MJ was happy she told Peter everything and that they were now... whatever they were now. Okay? She was happy, is happy.

But, she's not going to lie and say she isn't just a teensy bit scared by the newness of it all. She's barely had any friends in the first place and what, now she had a... boyfriend??? This was completely uncharted new territory for her and while it could be construed as an exciting exhibition on one hand, it could also be called a plunge into a deep dark abyss on the other.

Which was why after MJ got back to the class, and they all made sure everyone was safe, MJ texted Peter that she wanted to talk. It didn't have to be right at that moment or night though, they literally almost just died, they can take some time to just take a breather before figuring out the mechanics of their relationship.

And that's exactly the reason why Peter Parker was currently snuggled next to MJ, sound asleep, 4 hours into their 9 hour flight. and although, MJ admits that her shoulder's started to transition from sore to losing all form of sensation completely, MJ can't help but feel really happy for Peter. He's finally getting some well earned and deserved rest, and even though MJ knows she has no way to truly know what Peter's actually thinking... he seems happy to be with her, doesn't he? "Because I mean, I am. I'm happy I'm with Peter" MJ thinks to herself. Maybe MJ's just happy Peter's happy to be with her.

However, as happy MJ is being with Peter, unfortunately, her bladder isn't so happy. Suffice it to say, she desperately had to pee, no matter how cute a sleepy cuddly Peter Parker by her side looked. And so with almost surgical precision, MJ proudly thought of herself, she carefully lifted Peter off of her arm and shoulder, and lied his head down a pillow. The operation seemed successful enough, the patient was still sound asleep. And so, after making sure Peter was all good, MJ jetted the hell out of her row and quietly sprinted down the aisle as fast as she could to get to the bathroom.

After MJ relieved herself in the bathroom, she stood just outside it to stretch her limbs some. She had just been sitting and been repurposed into a human pillow for 4 hours, she needed to jolt her limbs back to life.

But, as she sees Brad Davis shyly waving to her as he heads towards her direction, MJ thinks maybe she should have just let her limbs stay dead after all.

"Hey, MJ"

"Hi, Brad"

Untolerable awkward silence ensues for a few seconds that feel like forever.

"Oh sorry, uh did you need to use the bathroom? Heh completely forgot I was blocking it"

MJ tries for a quick escape, hoping it was the locale Brad was here for. Though, MJ knew it was probably for naught.

"Actually..." says Brad, grabbing MJ's elbow which earns an instinctive glare from her.

Brad quickly lets go and says "Oh, sorry."

"Uhhh I just thought I could ask you something?"

Here's the thing with Brad fucking Davis, okay. There's the very well known Fight or Flight instinct that occurs in the face of being forced to confront a problem. However, there's another F that also occurs when being forced to confront a problem, Freeze. And that's exactly what MJ did in the face of interacting with Brad; she didn't run away nor did she nip the problem in the bud, she just... did nothing. She let whatever happen happen between them because there didn't seem to be any harm in it. Until now. Shit.

MJ merely sighs and nods in defeat. Well, she would have had to have this conversation at some point, might as well do it in the front of an airplane bathroom stall. Just rip the fucking bandaid off already.

"Yeah, sure, Brad. Hit me with it."

"It's just that, I saw you were sitting next to Peter and you guys were holding hands..."

"Uhm yeah, yeah we were in fact... doing all those things."

"Sooo..." phrased Brad as if he wanted MJ to finish his sentence for him.

"The hell I will" thought MJ, Brad can finish his sentences himself.

"You still haven't asked your question."

Brad simply sighs, exasperated MJ's had him forced to actually ask her what he's been dreading instead of her just telling him off the bat.

"Does that mean you guys are together now?" Brad asks, sneaking a look at the seats Peter and MJ were occupying.

The action makes MJ take a look as well, and in a blink and you'll miss it moment, (but this is MJ we're talking about, of course she didn't miss it) MJ spots a pair of suspiciously widened brown eyes and scruffy bed head airplane hair peeking out of her aisle seat and then immediately detracting back into the seats.

"This boy sometimes..." thought MJ. It truly was a wonder why she felt the way she felt about him. Goddamn Peter Parker.

MJ merely lightly chuckles to herself, Peter was just too fucking ridiculous and cute for his own good.

And so, despite the fact that they haven't even really talked about it yet, MJ feels brave enough to take the plunge for herself and say

"Yeah"

MJ looks back again to the seats, and once again, Peter was trying and failing to sneakily take a peek.

MJ smiles at her boyfriend's actions, shakes her head in adorable exasperation, looks back at Brad Davis and says "Yeah, we are."

"Uhm was there anything else?"

Brad's dissapointed demeanor could not be missed but it seems he's accepted MJ's answer and replies "No, no there wasn't."

"Okay, bye then. I'll just... see you in school, I guess"

"Yeah. See you," says Brad waving goodbye to MJ.

MJ waves bye back, turns around, and heads back to her seat, breathing one big sigh of relief.

God, she's glad that's over.

MJ finally makes it back to her seat and of course Peter would be pretending to be fiddling around his phone when she got there.

"Oh! Hey, MJ! Did you... go to the bathroom or something?" Peter asks in what could possibly be the most try hard fake oblivious one could muster.

MJ had no words, only the irl facial expression version of this (-_-) to say to Peter.

"Out with it, Parker" MJ says, lightly smacking Peter's chest. "You and I both know my bathroom escapades isn't what's on your mind right now."

Peter chuckles at that, but it didn't help lessen his nerves over what he was going to ask.

"What did Brad want?" asks Peter, his tone completely serious, devoid of any chill whatsoever, and maybe just a tinge of genuine fear and nerves.

MJ chuckled at Peter's reaction, maybe a jelly Peter was just a little cute. But then she thought that Peter may genuinely be confused, and if MJ was being honest, so was she. Well, maybe confused isn't the right word, more... unsure. Maybe they really needed to have this talk.

But then again, Peter was being too cutely nervous and jealous for his own good right now, fidgetly waiting in anticipation to find out what she and Brad were talking about. She had to mess with him about it. She was only human.

"Peter Benjamin Parker, are you being jealous right now?" asks MJ in the most fakely shocked tone she could muster.

And despite the fact that their altitude is like a couple of hundreds of feet up in the air, inside a metal air conditioned vehicle where he was just previously all cuddly and snuggly like in his blanket, Peter felt like it just got 100 degrees hotter in here and is desperately flubbing and flustered and has seemingly forgotten any word in any language.

"NO!! I mean... yes??"

Peter was still panicking and figuring out what to do and MJ just can't help herself, she really just can't.

"Because you know jealousy is the most common motive in murders and considering the fact that you already told me that you almost got Brad killed, plus the fact that-"

MJ leans in to whisper closer to Peter, looking around them and making sure no one's listening for dramatic effect.

"-you're the spider-man vigilante who beats up criminals, gang members, and super villains on a daily basis"

MJ finally leans away to talk normally now.

"that I just, I'm a bit concerned, Peter" MJ says, barely able to keep her laughter in check, but is able to nevertheless.

MJ's pretty sure she might have just broken Peter.

"OhmyGod MJ, NO! i dont i dont wanna kill Brad!"

It's a miracle the passengers of the entire plane didn't look at them with how loud the nervous Peter Parker shouted that out of context very incriminating line.

Luckily, Peter regains some of his common sense back and starts to speak in hushed softer tones.

"I mean do i dislike the guy? yeah maybe a little but it's just cause you have no idea what he was going to do MJ. Did i tell you why i almost killed him? Because really it was just an accident and i only meant-"

Peter blabbered on, explaining himself, when MJ thought okay, enough was enough, MJ said to herself. She can let Peter off the hook he is currently dangling himself in right now.

"Peter..."

"And then the agent just took her gun out while i was still half naked and-"

MJ merely sighs in exasperation and decides to kiss Peter, grabbing him by the collar of his science pun shirt, just to shut him up already before his head explodes.

And of course it shuts him up, him almost kissing back immediately even despite the slight confusion over what just happened.

MJ smirks a slight grin before pulling away from the kiss and Peter is left with an airy smille and a slightly confused but mostly happy expression on his face.

"I'm so confused," says Peter, chuckling, "What just happened?"

MJ lightly chuckles as well, shaking her head, and says "Look, Peter, I know we haven't really... talked about anything yet. And if I'm being honest, I'm still also confused or maybe just unsure about a lot of things as well. But the one thing I am sure on is that... i really like you. I couldn't care less about Brad Davis if i tried. As far as I'm concerned, he's irrelevant."

And finally, for the first time since he woke up and saw MJ talking to Brad, Peter can actually breathe properly.

"Oh okay. That's that's good cause I really like you too," says Peter with an ear to ear grin on his face.

"Well okay then, now if you excuse me, it's my turn to sleep, your turn to have numb limbs so skootch" says MJ with a yawn and gesturing for Peter to move.

Peter simply smirks, does as he's told, and replies "Gladly", making space for MJ to lay her head on his shoulder this time.

And as MJ felt her eyes slowly start to droop, and her finally starting to feel the sweet slumber of sleep overtake her, she holds and grabs onto Peter tighter, and she thinks to herself that she can actually sympathize with Peter's feelings of jealousy. As she feels herself start to fall asleep, lying her head onto Peter's shoulder, MJ is really glad to have this idiot that she can call hers. MJ only hopes that Peter feels that he can call her his as well.

Because as Peter watches MJ asleep, peaceful and at ease, he still can't help but feel that MJ deserves better than him. He finds himself at awe that the girl of his dreams is right here sleeping next to him and not, tall hunky quarterback Brad Davis who knows all her books and off the cuff literary references.

"Hey, MJ, I know you're probably asleep right now. But I just want you to know I'm really glad you're with me. You deserve so much better than me or even, Brad. I'm glad I get to be with you. I- really, I just think it's unbelievable that you actually like me."

MJ's heart warms, consequently melts, and her eyes shot up open at Peter's confession.

MJ has this vulnerable look on her face and she can't help but kiss Peter again, but this time it isn't rushed and unexpected, done to shut him up, it's for her to tell him something she can't put into words just yet.

MJ breaks away from the soft slow kiss, looks Peter in the eyes, and says "I told you, Peter, I actually like it better broken. I wasn't just talking about the necklace."

MJ looks at Peter with a sympathetic reassuring smile on her face and this time Peter kisses MJ now. After it ends, they don't need to say anything more, maybe they don't even really need to have their talk now. They both know what they both mean to each other, and they don't really need to say anything more than that.

So after their kiss and they both just share a lingering look, realizing just the importance of what they have, and not really needing to say anything more, since they both already know, MJ gets back to Peter's shoulder and closes her eyes one more time.

But just before MJ sleeps soundly for good, she says this without even opening her eyes.

"Hey Peter," her statement stifled by a yawn "if we still have a couple of hours, after i take this nap, we should watch a movie with that splitter of yours."

Peter perks up over the idea of him getting to do his plan after all and is happily surprised over the fact that MJ somehow found out.

"Oh, great idea, MJ. What do you wanna watch?"

MJ begins to suggest a plethora of true crime thrillers that has the murderer killing someone out of jealousy and Peter laughs. Peter jokes about how "you're never going to let this go, are you?"

"What do you think?" asks MJ before finally actually going to sleep for reals now this time, the last time.

"But you know what though, I actually kinda dig the jealous look on you, Parker. Kinda hot."

Peter chuckles to himself as MJ struggles to keep the smile forming on her face in check.

There is a very well known phenomenon that occurs when one's forced to confront a problem. In the case of confronting the pragmatics and mechanics of what Peter and MJ's relationship actually was, let's just say they took flight.

~end~

DID YOU GUYS GET IT? DO YOU GET THE TITLE NOW? BECAUSE THEY'RE IN A PLANE RIGHT NOW, AND THIS IS LIKE THE FIRST ACTUAL START OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP SO IT'S THEIR RELATIONSHIP TAKING FLIGHT AS IN TAKING OFF LIKE AN AIRPLANE. WHICH I ALSO CONNECTED TO THE FIGHT OR FLIGHT RESPONSE. WHICH I THINK IS ALSO APPROPRIATE SINCE THEY KINDA DECIDED THEY DIDNT NEED TO DO THEIR TALK ANYMORE. GET IT????

haha ok whew fuck im glad that's over and done with. this was supposed to be for day 5, any pick of fanfic topics, and the topic i chose was ya guessed it, jealousy haha (altho i actually had the idea for the fic first and then i thought it could be applied for day 5 hehe)

omfg im so glad im actually finishing these things now. thank gods for the weekend hahaha.

and thank uuuu @tare8chan for helping me figure out how mj would react to a jelly peter. her connecting that to murder is PURE GENIUS AND U DESERVE ALL THE CREDIT FOR THINKING IT UP SO REALLY THANK YOU SO EFFING MUCH.

a bunch of ur ideas made it into this fic because they're so effing great so tytytytyty THANKYOUUUUUU

i cant fucking believe spideychelle month week 2 is over, folks, it's been quite a ride so far :') <3

ONTO WEEK THREEEEE AHOOYYY TOOT TOOOTTT

3000 hoorahs for more spideychelle yalls woohoooooooo

[hvlfwygod]

bone-deep desire | bentley & ariana.

date: february 2020 summary: ben and ariana catch up after the bonfire

Even with how things had been going between the two, Ariana hadn't felt nervous in anticipation for hanging out with Bentley. It was only really when she saw him before her like right now, then the jittery sensation in her chest sparked up again. In the kitchen across from her, she could see how Ben stood with his familiar tall but thin frame. He hadn't been there for very long, but Ari busied herself with grabbing whatever snacks she had in her cabinets that she thought Ben would like. After bringing them over to an area she had for mostly lounging, watching movies, listening to music, but most importantly smoking and drinking. She sat down on the couch farthest away from the kitchen. They were inside of her lofty one person apartment on the top floor, so there wasn't much in the way and she could still see the kitchen if she tried. "Okay, so, we have some of your typical stoner foods, and some of my personal favorites too," She explained while talking about the Oreos, Flamin Hot Cheetos, Honey Buns, etc. She was still sitting in the spot she chose and urged Ben on over. Ariana watched his dark eyes and the way he carried himself, it was almost ghostly to be reminded of thousands of memories from her past that were all regarding him. Once they were sat together, Ariana retrieved her weed stuff which consisted of a few lighters, a herb grinder, a small selection of flavored rolling papers, close to a quarter of bud which didn't include a few blunts she had already pre-rolled before Ben showed up. She picked up one of the blunts and inspected it. "I guess if we start smoking now, we'll be high as hell in no time," She passed it over to Ben; along with a lighter. "—Light one up for us, and I'll grab us some drinks too?" She casually asked, never being one to show her weaker sides and, unfortunately for Ariana, vulnerability was never her forte.

She seemed to be trying very, very hard to make him feel welcome. Which, weirdly, made it harder for Ben to get comfortable. He sat down on the floor, looking at the spread of food out before him. A blunt was placed into his hand, which he inspected as he accepted the lighter as well. He nodded, glad that she was offering drinks instead of him having to ask for one. She would probably be insulted if he said that he needed one to relax. "That sounds great," he said, trying to match her energy, but missing the mark. Without any more fanfare, he lit up the blunt, listening to the sizzle as he pulled. Her stuff was always stronger than his, and no matter how many times he smoked with her, he was caught off guard. Ben started coughing, laughing between little hits on his chest. By the time Ariana returned with drinks, the tension was already melting off his shoulders. "Every time," he said, chuckling. "I swear I can handle my weed."

Maybe Ariana was trying an unusual amount, but it was Ben and if anyone deserved anything from her — it was him. She could hear the lighter flicker and then she listened to Ben's coughs which brought a look of amusement over her expression and subtly calmed her nerves. By the time she was sitting back down next to him with drinks, it was her hit on the blunt and she did so. She held it in her lungs, but was smirking at him as she exhaled it. "Oh, I know you can handle it," Ariana pointed out and ashed what they were smoking before taking another quick hit and passing it back to Ben. "It's just been a minute since you smoked with me, so there's no rush. Like I said earlier, I have nothing planned but this for tonight." There she was still trying a little too hard, but she knew him so well and hopefully, he wouldn't mind too much.

Ben took back the blunt in one hand and picked up his drink in the other. He stared at the snacks, searching for the best place to start this conversation. He wasn't even sure how much Ariana knew about the last few days. He took a deep breath, already feeling the effects of his first hit. "So, I'm assuming you heard about the bonfire the other day?" he asked, then immediately took another hit. This time he was more prepared and only coughed once on his exhale. 

Ariana had heard some things here and there, but nothing was definitively spelled out for her. It was a lot of piecing narratives together from the eclectic group of people she'd talked to since the bonfire. "Uh," She paused thinking about how to answer. "Yeah... I'm not as up to date on the gossip as I once was," Ariana said in reference to who she was as a person a few years back. "But, I've heard some things." She confessed, working on drinking one of the stiff drinks she'd prepared.   

This time, Ben gulped down about half his drink before he continued. He passed the blunt back to her and sighed. "I think there was another fucking spell or something because I said some shit to Chase that I didn't mean to. About Ellie and," he gestured to Ariana, "us. It just sucks that it all came out like that. What I said was true but I was, I dunno, I was trying to piss Chase off, you know? I didn't say it was you that I did something with, so I guess I did something right. Anyway. Jesse fucking Teague punched me in the face and the next day Chase basically blackmailed me into changing my work schedule and now I'm the fucked-up freak in demigodland all over again." 

Ariana busied herself with the blunt all while listening to Ben's explanation of what had happened that had him so tied in knots. After hearing his suspicions about another spell being cast, she fought the urge to roll her eyes but it was a futile attempt and did so anyway. "The Hecate cabin, I'm assuming? What fucking dumbass witches..." She shook her head and took a few big gulps before hitting the blunt again. Ariana continued listening to him, letting her eyes settle gently on his frame. She sat up a bit when he disclosed to her that the fact he had cheated on Ellie was now general knowledge for those who were around at the bonfire. "I may be behind on the times, but your dislike of Chase stems from where exactly?" She realized she had reactively narrowed her eyes and made a mental note to try and soften herself again, if even possible. A sense of relief was felt though when Ariana realized her name hadn't been brought up. She scoffed anyways. "I'm sure they all assumed correct about who the other woman was." She conceded.

By then, the two were in a pattern of passing the blunt back and forth with ease. She paused, not instinctively knowing how to respond in an overtly comforting way. So, she did what she did best. "—What the fuck?" She incredulously questioned, maybe a little too amused. "I didn't even know Jesse was capable of being awake and present. He's always just half a world way. So irrelevant and useless, in my opinion..." Ariana cut her own self off as she felt her penchant for insensitivity. She inhaled and reached out and placed a hand on his closest body part which happened to be his leg. "You're not a fucking freak," Ariana spoke with a kind of firmness and knowing. "I've met freaks, all right? You're far from that," She casually explained before retracting her hand. "But, honestly, so what? If you want your original hours back, I can give you advice because you don't have to be the type of person who just takes that. Yeah, sure, in their eyes you might've made a mistake and think you deserve this shit. I don't think that, but..." She let her sentence trail off. "I still don't know what to say about what to do regarding the whole Ellie situation."

Ben sighed, letting the high carry him to someplace a little more relaxed. "I was surprised he did it, too. It was kind of funny, actually, that he finally snapped out of it and it was to beat me up." He chuckled to himself and propped his head up, elbow up on the coffee table. "I'm breaking up with Ellie. And I don't want your advice, it's— " He debated telling her about Chase's threats over Danny, and decided against it. She could get a little too protective, and he didn't want her getting involved any more than she already was. He took another hit. "It's not that big of a deal, just fucking annoying. Chase has hated me since I first got to camp, I'm not surprised he's milking this for all it's worth to make me a bad guy. Whatever, you were right, I never should have gotten involved with her." He passed the blunt back. "Go ahead and say you told me so."

Ariana wasn't equipped to give him any advice, especially regarding any of his romantic relationships, and was relieved when he made it known that wasn't what he was asking for. She sat there quietly and let him speak, oddly finding herself wanting to hear what he had to say about all of this. She only spoke up when he gave her the opportunity to rub it in his face. "I can't control what you do," She explained. "And I won't try to..." Ariana added at a quieter tone as she took the blunt back. "But, I do agree. It doesn't have to be a big deal, or as big as it sounds it was made out to be to everyone," She took a long drag and held it before exhaling it all out. "I don't know what you said exactly at the bonfire, but Chase can get fucked, along with his brother, for all I care. You don't deserve half the shit you get dealt," She confessed, taking the time to take a drink again. "And, I guess," She paused for a moment. "I'm sorry." She apologized, realizing she might not have ever said those two words to Ben.

Ben's brow pulled together; he frowned at Ariana. That was not what he was expecting from her. "Uh," he started, then cleared his throat. It was clear to him immediately that she wasn't apologizing for sleeping with him while he was still with Ellie. The words reached some little well of anger, tucked away somewhere. Ben's frown suddenly turned up into a bitter smile. "What?" he asked, forcing out a little laugh. He finished his drink and pushed the cup a bit away from him. "I think it's a little too late for an apology, Ariana."

"You're right," She said, but wanted to take it back but was also in a place where she felt as if it was the right thing to do. Nonetheless, she instantly and desperately wanted to change the subject. "Let's talk about something less ugly. Maybe focus on some of my more likeable qualities," She proposed, attempting to jest a little, but seeing that type of smile on Ben's face made her look away. She busied herself with moving things about so she could take a shot. "I just want to have a good night, okay?" She confessed before doing said shot, and offered the glass and alcohol to Ben afterward.

Something about how she completely backed off only made Ben angrier. He knew the feeling well, where he'd get so worked up over someone that every little thing they did pissed him off. But still, even though his irritation was high, he accepted the change of pace along with the alcohol. He poured himself a shot, drank it, then poured another. "What does a good night entail?" he asked, nonchalant, his words still a little blunt and the question sounding more like a challenge. He looked at her with intensity as he handed the alcohol back. He took the second shot before holding out the glass for her, too.

Ariana always somehow managed to turn situations with promise into ones that were full of awkward contempt. She kind of hated herself for doing it without realizing so often but, this was one of those times where she was actually fully conscious of her pull on the teetering atmosphere. "Well..." She said, casually watching him pour another shot for himself. "You seem to be starting it off right," She turned the corner of her lip upwards tightly. "—Thanks," Ariana commented as she took the alcohol and glass back when offered. She did exactly what he had just done and her throat burned afterwards. If her past self could see her now, would she even recognize herself? She tucked some hair behind her ear. "But, no, if I'm being serious..." She started to elaborate. "I just wanted to..." She reached for a honey bun and opened the packaging so she could begin to snack on the sugary treat. "I don't know," Finding that she couldn't finish her sentences, she shrugged. Ariana didn't really know what to say. She knew Ben so well but still it felt like they could stop being in one another's lives at the drop of a hat. "Mostly spend time with you," Ariana finally confessed. "And also get fucked up too. Those were my two goals." She said, unapologetically.

Ben watched her and took the alcohol from where she left it on the table. "I'm here for getting fucked up," he said as he poured his third shot. He paused, not sure if he wanted to say more. Then he swallowed the alcohol and decided while it burned down his throat. "I missed spending time with you," he said. The sincerity threw him. Was he even being sincere? He could never tell what he wanted with Ariana, and he had a hard time figuring out what was true. He was saying this now, and it felt honest, but he was still angry. He Maybe what he missed was their fights, when they could just blurt out every mean thing they wanted, instead of sitting on years worth of tension.

But he didn't want to start one now, he realized as he went back to his original drink. He finished that off and, again, the alcohol cleared his mind. He moved closer to Ariana, working a smile onto his face. "I missed... us." 

"Good," Ariana stated simply, but was a little bit relieved as well. If she hadn't cared this much about Ben, she might've not been trying so hard. But, that wasn't the case. She had to fight off the feelings of not believing he was actually saying and meaning those types of things back to her, but she somehow did and let out a tiny breath she had been holding. She had to admit that treading lightly was much more exhausting than their previous choice of explosive fights. When Ben moved closer, Ariana caught sight of the traces of a smile that was flickering on his expression. She still felt as if she was wearing heavy armor to protect herself from being hurt, but that face had such a pull on her heart. "So have I," She agreed to missing them as an us and she let her shoulders drop a little bit. She paused before scooting a bit closer too. She finished her honey bun and crumpled up the wrapper and put it aside. She realized the blunt they were smoking was done and she grabbed one of the others that was already pre-rolled and lit it up. She coughed a bit and handed it to Ben once more. "Does it still hurt much?" She asked and motioned to his bruises from the punch he received last night. "I can get you some ice, if it's still bothering you..." Ariana offered before leaning back and then just giving in and leaning a bit on Ben as well. "But, I'm sure the alcohol and weed will help shortly, right? I guess, it's the least I can do."

Ben took the blunt and let it burn in his grip as he sank into their halfway embrace. He moved so his arm was around Ariana's shoulders and he stared up at the ceiling. Finally, he took the hit and exhaled slowly. His eyes fluttered closed. "It's fine," he muttered. "Doesn't hurt that much." His head turned so he was looking at her, their faces entirely too close. "This does help, though."

"Good," Ariana said simply like she had before. When she felt Ben's arm go around her, she let herself drop more into his frame finally. She curled herself up against him and rested her head on him too. Maybe it was too greedy, so Ariana settled for levelling her breathing and glancing up at him for a moment longer. She didn't know what else to say right away so she pulled her eyes away and fully gave into using him for comfort. Her hand found a spot on his leg as she kept her other free so she could smoke. Ariana's body physically relaxed and her muscles de-tensed. The room wasn't as dark as when Ben had arrived. "Um, if you ever... do need my advice..." She trailed off and gave his leg a little squeeze with her hand as she started talking again. Ariana kept her gaze down so it was more comfortable for her, maybe for him too. "Not saying you do, but I'd give it." She confided.

He could feel every point of contact on his body, her hand and head and the brush of their fingers as he passed the joint over to her. His mind was swimming, but through the haze he could feel the bone-deep desire for her. The thing that kept bringing him back, over and over. Ben placed his hand under Ariana's chin so her face was angled up toward his. Their eyes met and, for once, Ben didn't glance away. Ellie was still gone, still clueless, and he already knew they were done. He already cheated on her, what did it matter now? Still, he paused, studying Ari's face. But it was only a pause, and after his expression softened slightly, Ben leaned in and kissed her.

Ariana wasn't expecting Ben to use his hand to take her by the chin, but she let him raise her face. Her stomach felt lighter as their eyes gazed back at one another's. It hadn't been that long since they had last been intimate and all of those memories were still very fresh which only caused even more memories to flood back as well. Ben leaned in and Ariana closed her eyes. She pressed against his lips, kissing him back maybe a bit too eagerly.

[timeisacephalopod]

1 & 99 for the Get In My Business Please question list?

The meaning behind my url:

If you’re talking my writing blog URL its literally just what my AO3 name is, which was chosen when I was 18 and liked Criminal Minds a lot. In hindsight it was a bad choice but I can’t change it now lmao. If you’re talking my personal blog (ridingcthulhudick) I just thought it was hilarious. And if anyone quoted my blog in an actual publication they’d have to print that my blog name is not appropriate lmao.

Have you ever met someone who didn’t seem real?

When I got this question I was like ‘do you answer on your phone’ and decided no because I have some fucking tales ok. You guys have all heard about this person if you’ve followed me for awhile- this is the person that I called on racism and she didn’t show up to school for a week after. But that is really only the tip of the ice berg.

So I meet this person at the beginning of my school year, who like me is named after a season, and she’s odd- wearing a cowboy hat with all these fandom pins and ok. That’s strange but ok. Then she starts talking, goes on an on about her kids, I discover that she’s 27 but if I were to age her by actions, style of dress, and mannerisms I’d put her at 17 and that’s only because she was in post secondary so that’s the youngest she could be. Otherwise I would have gone 15. And she has 2 kids. So ok. I leave and something is off about her but people can be eclectic and I don’t like being judgmental so I leave it be and let her actions speak for themselves rather than jumping to conclusions.

Class starts and she never. Shuts. The. Fuck. Up. And I don’t mean like useful advice, or even interesting facts that are irrelevant to the class but at least neat to know like another student in the class does. I mean every. Fucking. Thing. Out of her mouth is useless. So we all decide she’s annoying amongst each other and we all start to back away slowly.

Now we may seem like dickheads at this point but keep in mind, within a week, we all knew these things about her: she has 2 kids that were taken by child services and she complains about it a lot, she has an obsession with tiny houses, she’s a bronie and sometimes takes commissions for bronie porn, she’s a furry- which isn’t inherently bad but combined with the rest it just becomes another weird thing about her, she’s homophobic but also pansexual (??), she has a fiancee, but maybe also 2 boyfriends, we still aren’t sure and we’ve found her scrolling in dating sites, she’s an artist but I literally drew better at 12 (though in her slight defense I am naturally gifted at drawing), she tried to start a conversation with a friend of mine about incest on a busy street, and has a weird obsession with The Human Centipede. This isn’t even all of it, this is just the first fucking week.

So the semesters go by and in my school they’re 3 months long, which is a little shorter than normal universities, and we just got through our 3rd term. Here is what we know now. She lives in a small city (a couple hundred thousand people), but talks about it like its a small ass town like the one I came from (which is under 2000 people). Another student lives in the same city and has no fucking clue what she’s talking about. She’s sexist and racist (like hella racist- once she claimed that because she grew up with some Natives in her life she is one. That’s not how it works, and given how confused she seems to be on various cultural aspects that I know of from Natives in our area- which is admittedly not a lot I will full well acknowledge- this is a total lie). And she’s L O S T on all social cues. And not in a way where some people, like people on the autistic spectrum, are- I mean she intentionally has ignored social rules her whole fucking life and expects everyone to compensate for her bullshit kind of way.

And that’s a whole other thing. Not only is she racist, sexist, and homophobic, but she also has this obsession with bullying. She’s always on about high school (mostly in regards to herself- I will remind you all she’s 27) and bullying and has, on several occasions, defended school shooters and claimed they did it because bullying. As your local queer kid in a small, very homophobic town, eat shit bud white boys don’t school shoot because they were bullied- signed every other minority ever. Anyways. This grates my nerves and keep in mind I am a patient person, so I don’t like being That Guy. But there comes a point where I can’t morally or logically stand by when you’re an asshole. So a friend of mine from class was talking racism and she goes on what is essentially a #NotAllWhitePeople rant, claiming we should leave racism in the past and focus on the now, blah, blah. So I was like no, we have to examine the past because it continues to influence the present- to break this down into a smaller event this would be like a person in an abusive relationship focusing on processing their trauma and moving on from it- you gotta acknowledge the past to move forward.

WELL, she was not having this so I called her racist, because she continued on pulling the ‘colorblind’ argument, which is a fucking cop out so I said it. She was all ‘that’s my OPINION’ so I was like well then your opinion is racist, like shit son don’t hit me with that crap. In this exchange we’ve traded a good four sentences or so back and forth and the student that was originally talking racism (and the only brown person in this discussion) offered a single sentence of support for my argument. But she was silent for most of it. Well once More Annoying Tomi Lauren stomped off we find out she whined and cried about the brown woman eating her ass when it was my lily white ass that went all in. I was pissed.

Anyways. So we’ve established that she’s an asshole, and also weird as fuck. Lets run a highlight reel of this person: obsessed with tiny houses, general asshole, also emotionally manipulative but I didn’t even get time to cover that, looks and acts like a particularly annoying 15 year old (I’m so sorry to 15 year olds, you all deserve better than being lumped in with this), has an obsession with bullying but defends her racism (???), has the aesthetic of someone who shops at Claires and the lost and found exclusively, every single character she writes is a self insert (and I hadn’t covered that either- fuck I have tales ok), constantly monopolizes class time by yapping about shit no one cares about, thinks the Big Bang Theory is a good show, can’t take criticism for shit, and has more confidence than Joss Whedon when he wrote Age of Ultron.

There is more people- I didn’t actually touch on the emotional manipulation, which often links in with the bullying obsession, or any of the self inserts let alone her actual attempts at story. I didn’t even touch on all her racist Facebook posts or that time she whined about the gender neutral Canadian anthem (changed recently), which resulted in my sourcing that the fucking anthem was gender neutral when it was written, then was changed, and is now being changed back so at least know the fucking history of the anthem before whining and crying about it being changed. This is just what I remembered off the top of my head.

A friend and I from class once went out with a bud of his and we were talking about her and halfway through I realized she sounds fake. It sounds like writers all sat down in a room and were like ‘what pile of weird and asshole traits can we give a person?’ and then we created her. But we did not, we would not intentionally let ourselves suffer that way. And, AND, this is key- you’ve all read my writing here. You know I can create whole worlds with various levels of efficacy- I’ve written almost 200 stories that I’ve put on my AO3- but I simply am not creative enough to invent this person. I never would have combined ‘racist, self insert writing, tiny house obsessed person who thinks the Human Centipede is a movie that makes you think’. I wish that last part was a fucking joke but that’s deadass a quote. It is not a movie that makes you think. Wolf of Wall Street is a movie that makes you think assuming you figure out its a satire intentionally making fun of every white male power fantasy ever, not the fucking human centipede.

Conclusion: If you are so generally off the rails that a writer who prefers writing fantasy and science fiction is not creative enough to have invented you you are Some Shit ok. Like Hannibal Lecter is a character someone invented and that guy probably couldn’t have come up with my seasonal nemesis ok. There’s just too much to unpack there and she’s too willing to throw it all at us like a monkey flinging turds. I can’t believe this is a real human being. I wish I didn’t know she was, but if I have to suffer so do all of you.