#I can do what I want and you can block me if it bothers you

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

End Game 7

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: hump day, wooooo.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Strange how you never found comfort at home. Well, it never felt like one for you. You were always just a hanger-on. A burden. 

As you enter your grandma's house, you can't help but exhale the tension you've been holding in. She's in her chair, reading, not a word at your arrival. You go into the kitchen, set on eating the frozen meal you lost your appetite for the other night. 

You peel back the corner on the tray and shove it in the microwave. As you shut the door, you nearly wince at the unexpected figure in the doorway. You don't know if you're really surprised or if Andy has you jumpy. Both. 

"Want some coffee?" You offer your grandmother, hoping to appease her. "Tea?" 

She grumbles and waves you off, shuffling across the tile in her slippers. She crosses her arms and her lip sticks out, "nice of that man to come all the way down here like that." 

You turn your attention back to the countdown and shrug, "yeah." 

"He didn't need to just for all that. For you, did he?" She prompts. Her interest both irks and worries you. She never cared about anything. "And after losing his family." 

"Right, yeah, it's tough," you twiddle your fingers at your side. 

"Don't sound so heartbroken," she scoffs, "Christ, wasn't that boy you're friend?" 

You face her as the microwave beeps, "grandma..." you can't tell her. If she even bothered to listen, she wouldn't believe you. She doesn't even know Andy and she's already taking his side. Typical. "Yeah, I'm sad. Guess I'm a bit in shock." 

You turn back and take the too hot tray out, holding back a hiss at the singe in your fingertips. You spin and cross the kitchen to grab a fork. Your grandma huffs and putters after you.  

"He sent them flowers," she says. 

You stir the noodles and cheese, "he did." 

"Fancy. Expensive." 

You don't really get why she's still harping on. She didn't put so much mind to your prom or graduation or even when you got your job. Yet you can't be surprised where she's strayed; she's always been on you about money.  

"Seems to me he's a bit lost," she says, "you're..." she weighs her words before she speaks, something she rarely does, "maybe he's tryna find some direction. He might... might wanna take care of ya." 

"Huh?" You make a face and glance at her from the corner of you eye. 

"Like, I dunno, I watch those talk shows, grief is something nasty. I would know," she goes on. You can't remember the last time you heard her talk so much. "He only got-- had the one kid. You're about the same age... maybe he's tryna, I dunno, replace what he lost." 

You nearly laugh in her face. Really? This is what she cares about? You stare at her and furrow your nose. You could tell her. You could try. She's listening. For once.  

"I don't think... it's not... I'm not his responsibility and I don't wanna be." 

"You're barely your own responsibility," she sneers, "can't see a good thing in front of you." 

"Grandma--" 

"Well? Pretty sure there's more where those flowers came from," he tuts, "you got a few hard lessons to learn, girlie. 

You look down at the macaroni. You're not hungry anymore. You grab the tray and walk away. 

"Yeah, well, maybe you shoulda tried to teach me some, huh?" You toss over your shoulder and stomp out of the kitchen. 

You go into your room and kick your door shut. How is he doing this? How is everyone, even a woman who hasn't lived in reality for twenty years, on his side? 

You put the tray and fork down and go to the other side of the bed. You sit facing the window and drop your head into your hands. The only person you have is too far away. Besides, you don't want to drag her into this. Not any more than you already have. 

🎮

For once, you’re anxious to get to work. You welcome the distraction from everything else; debt, grandma, and the biggest problem of all, the one you won’t even name. You stroll up to the ice cream booth as Luis stands outside the window, chatting to Jessie as she stands at her vigil inside. You frown. You don’t see the manager often. Only when he hired you. 

“Ah, there she is,” Luis spots you and waves you over, “right on time.” 

As he checks his watch you pull out your phone. You’re early, like always. His presence is more than a coincidence. You have this ripply feeling in your stomach. You black your phone and cross your arms, hiding it under your elbow. 

“Hi, how’s everything going?” You ask as you approach the kiosk. 

“Everything’s great,” Luis smirks, “sunshine’s out, customers too.” 

You glance around. The picnic tables are mostly full. It is the perfect weather for a scoop. 

“Yeah, gonna be a busy shift,” you pander with a smile. 

“Hey,” Luis wags his finger as if remembering something, “before you start, let’s have a chat.” 

“Oh, alright,” you agree. 

He waves you away from the window as more customers approach. You follow him to one of the tables. You wait for him to sit before you do the same. He looks around from behind his black lenses and tilts to reach into his back pocket. He slides out his phone and brings it forward to cradle in both hands. 

“So uh, how are you liking it? The work?” He asks. 

You’re uneasy. You stare at his cell then look him in the face. 

“It’s good. Steady,” you answer as you keep your own phone in your lap. 

“Mhmm,” he hums and once more glances around, “look, this is never easy but I got a complaint--” 

You blink slowly. You’re not surprised. You figured it would happen. Still, you thought maybe Andy might be above that. Or anything at all. 

“Obviously, I take these things seriously. This business is all about customer service, especially with the Dairy Queen down the block,” he explains, “but I do try to give the benefit of the doubt. I checked the cameras.” He pauses for effect as you shrink down, “you closed the window.” 

You sigh and heave out a breath, “I did.” 

“You know we don’t do that,” he reprimands. 

“Sir, I know but... the customer... he wasn’t a customer. He’s... bothering me.” 

He pokes his tongue into his cheek and scratches his neck, “oh? Didn’t look like that type. When I spoke to him, he didn’t even seem upset. He just asked me to check in, really, but it’s not his shop. He don’t gotta worry about the bottom line. I do.” 

“It won’t happen again,” you wisp out. 

“I know it won’t,” he says. 

You sit, waiting for him to continue. He just stares at you. You shake your head. No. 

“Sorry, I gotta let you go.” 

“What? It’s my first complaint--” 

“This is an ice cream shop, how many of those do you think we get? Not very hard to keep the people happy so if you’re getting unhappy customers, well, that’s all I need to know.” 

“Please, Luis, I need this job--” 

“Shouldn’t have closed the window. I’m sorry. That’s the one rule.’ 

“God, I--” you huff and snarl, “whatever. Fine.” You stand and untie your apron, “get your bottom line.” 

You toss the apron on the table and swipe up your bag. You turn without waiting for another empty apology. Fuck. It’s shitty but hey, there’s always the DQ and now you have experience, right? 

🎮

You fill out an application for the Dairy Queen and a few other places. Your job hunt has been chronic as it is. It’s only that your search for a second gig, is now back to square one. You have only your last check coming to you before you’re digging into your meagre savings; the money meant for tuition. 

Your grandma is back to living in her novels. Good. You didn’t realise until before how much you preferred it. 

As you close yourself in your room, your phone vibrates. You look down at the message. It’s him. He’s been messaging, still thinking he might talk you into it. He is a lawyer but this isn’t his court. This is your life. 

How pathetic. A grown man meddling in the affairs of a nineteen-year-old. If you could let go of the catfishing, everything else has assured you of his character. You flop onto your bed and swipe away his texts. 

You wallow there for a while. In self-pity, in futility, in listlessness. You don’t know what to do. Everything is at a standstill. You have no job, you don’t know if you can pay for next semester, let alone the year, and you’re stuck in this deadbeat town. 

You put on a video to try to drown out the incessant anxiety. Today, you’re just going to let yourself sink. You can deal with everything tomorrow. You close your eyes and yawn, drifting into a haze that makes your head fuzzy. 

You’re roused by another vibe of your phone. You ignore it. He’s not going to get an answer. He can keep skirting around your blocks but you’re not wasting your energy. You’ve told him enough times to leave you alone. He has to get bored eventually. 

You roll over and bury your head in the pillow. You hear your grandma clunking around in the kitchen. You hate this place. You hate your life. The more you think about it, you can’t deny how horrible it really is, especially in the shadow of your dwindling future. 

What did you do to deserve this? You’re a good person. At least, you’ve always tried to be. It feels like a lot of karma for that Twizzler you stole when you were eight. 

Your grandmother keeps up the racket and your phone keeps on buzzing. You flip over and sit up. You snatch up the phone and stop yourself from flicking your thumb sideways. It isn’t him. It’s Kara. You never did call her back. 

You answer and put her on speaker, “hey, sup?”  

“Hey,” her voice is shaky, “uh, I don’t know.” 

“What?” You sit up straighter, “is everything--” your voice trails off as you listen to the commotion on her end; chatter you can’t make out, movement obscured through the speaker, “what do you mean you don’t know?” 

“The cops are here,” she murmurs, “I don’t know. They just showed up. Said they got a call from the landlord or something. Cause it’s the property owner, they can just come in or whatever. I don’t know, I don’t know...” Her voice quivers with panic, “me and Calvin were just hanging out...” 

“That’s... why would they--” 

“Shoot, I think...” she lowers her voice, “they must’ve found his stash. Shit, shit.” 

“Kara?” Your heart races as you try to keep track of what’s going. 

“Miss, can you please hang up the call? We need to question you,” a deep voice interjects. 

“One second, I’m just on the phone with--” 

“Miss, hang up or you’ll be charged with obstruction.” 

The line cuts and you gape at your phone. What the hell? You try to dial back, the call rolls through but doesn’t pick up. You try again and again. You get out of bed and pace, texting Kara helplessly. Shit, shit! How is this happening? Over what? A tiny dime bag? Everyone smokes, not that you’re the biggest fan. Too smelly for you. 

You put your hand to your forehead. What do you do? You can probably get a bus ticket. Even if you get to her, the bond is going to be way more than you can afford. You doubt you’ll even be able to scrape it together.  

Do you call her parents? No, they’d kill her, then she’d kill you. 

You shake as your legs turn to jello. You sit back down and close your eyes. Holy crap, this can’t be real.  

Your phone vibrates. It doesn’t stop. You look down at the incoming call. Unknown Caller. You’re not stupid. You know it’s him and his timing assures you he had something to do with this. This isn’t a coincidence. Those don’t exist. If there was any sort of luck in this world, you would have found some by now. 

“What?” You put the phone to your ear and snarl. 

“I can help your friend,” he says. 

You’re silent. You want to scream at him. You want to swear at him. You want to call him every nasty word you can. But this isn’t about you, not just you. You brought Kara into this mess, even if you never meant to. You won’t let her pay for your stupidity. 

“Meet me at Oxford and Maris. There’s a restaurant--” 

“Fine,” you snip and hang up. 

You lower your phone and shudder. He won. Given his career, he must be used to that. 

[maoam]

I guess I'll tag @sasukesun since this post is addressed to her as well. Anyway, how are you addressing me yet not tagging me (I assume I'm still blocked) and I only got this through another person? You're just being hostile.

I have said multiple times Sasuke isn't girly. Neither is Naruto. You put words in my mouth. His feminity comes from his looks (because that's Kishi's type) and the yin/yang. Sasuke is very neutral in the way he dresses, rather rude in the way he speaks to people (compared to how Japanese generally speak) and definitely not a weak doormat like Hinata. I have addressed all these things multiple times.

Sarada and Boruto's relationship doesn't parallel NaruSasu, if you read Boruto manga you would know that. Sarada is very passive when compared to Naruto. She just asks Sasuke to help Boruto. Can you imagine Naruto doing that? Naruto would help Sasuke by himself, that's how Kishi would write it. He wouldn't write Naruto to sat on his ass and wait for things to happen like he is writing both Sarada and Sumire do. People constantly complain about Sarada being rather irrelevant and it's true.

When I say "dynamic" I'm referring to the fact Minato is the only one who bothered to try to save Kushina and the only one who didn't give up on her. My point was about TROPES Kishimoto likes [link]. And why are you ignoring I pointed out Kishimoto paralleld Boruto to young Naruto, Sasuke to Kushina, and Naruto to Minato in the Boruto movie where they were coparenting Boruto? And again, it's about a trope. It's not complicated. Here is another post I made about similar tropes in both ships [link].

Same with Mario/Saori. Funny how you keep ignoring the latter despite me writing posts about that as well. [link] Can you seriously look me in the eyes and deny the similar tropes? Oh hey here's another [link].

I also made a post pointing out the similarities in how Hinata feels towards Naruto and how Naruto feels towards Sasuke but of course you ignore that because it doesn't fit your narrative about me. [link] If it was like you said, I would have ignored this as well. I also made another in reverse, about similarities in how Hinata feels towards Naruto and how Sasuke feels towards Naruto. [link]

The examples of Oro, Obito and Kabuto, are all about them making Sasuke their possession. And when you add the weird imagery, which Kishi never uses anywhere else, and Oro's comments about Sasuke's beautiful face and body, it's not rocket science to understand what's going on. Notice how I didn't mention Itachi, because despite Itachi wanting to control Sasuke, I never saw 'that type' of thing there. And trust me, I would point it out if there was, it wouldn't make me uncomfortable.

You call me a weirdo and stupid so I feel I have to reply to all this.

"I just express my opinion and if you don't agree you can always block me" I guess this is more directed at sasukesun but can't this apply to you as well? I mean you block and unblock me because you don't want me to see your replies and respond, but you still want to call me stupid and other names. It's just not cool dude...

Also this is you so I'm pretty sure you are the one mad that I'm not raving about girly twink Naruto and masculine buff alpha Sasuke aren't you? Lol. I'm sure my posts about Naruto being a rascal punk who gives people the middle finger and farts in his opponent's face kill that little princess image for you.

[skinnypaleangryperson]

I'm never going to forgive America for being such a celebrity and narcissistic encouraging country. It's made people that will just barely manage to get their ass off the ground, and instantly talk and spin a narrative to people that are stupid enough to believe it that they were inherently "special from the start", what does nothing except just to make them another forgettable, delusional, sadly overloaded grotesque self-interested "Important" person that thinks that they deserve to feel like they're superior to everyone, as if that does anything for anyone, and the last thing that this country needs. But because they're not capable of having the wisdom or the death or the creativity or of much of anything at all outside of their own brainwashing about what they need to spend the narrative of to feel like they're worth something, all we end up getting is a bunch of narcissist after narcissist that thinks that the center of the universe just because they gained just barely a million followers on Instagram.

[xannerz]

its always surreal to me to see people praise s2 of centaurworld. s2 was so spectacularly bombastic and aimless and it ended in this awkward forgettable fizzle.

i feel like a dick saying it b/c i really do love the show lmao. or, at least half of it lmao (/stares at tnwk). gf and i've been thinking about rewatching it just to write out our thoughts on why s2 was such a poor follow-up to s1 - from the tone to the setup to all the worldbuilding the narrative had to offer in between the (far more) memorable songs of s1. idk. it's sad because cw really had the bones of a cult classic, but idek if you can call it that.

ive seen a few posts commenting on its lack of popularity, and i feel like it certainly deserves more, b/c i do feel like it's a novel idea made w/ love, but the shift btwn s1 and s2 wasnt just in the plot. there was a full-on *fracture* in the quality and direction and i'm still scratching my head over it. more than i should be, probably. but, it's just a bummer.

[macro-microcosm]

Look, I'm sorry, but you cannot say "there is no antisemitism in the Free Palestine movement" and also say that you think Israeli youth should be put into Viet Cong-style reeducation camps.

And no, it's not a more vindicated or less bigoted opinion just because nobody comes to you with a better single-sentence solution to hate crimes.

[winepresswrath]

On the one hand, if Marquis Yan hadn't been such a deadbeat Jiujiu then maybe Prince Yu would have been a better candidate for Emperor. On the other hand we saw what being a good candidate for Emperor with a powerful and involved uncle did for Prince Qi, so possibly Marquis Yan actually prolonged Prince Yu's life and saved his kid.

[aworldofyou]

It's OFFICIAL! I added it to my rules. I WILL NOT TOLERATE TWILIGHT CANON HATE at all. Stephanie Meyer is NOT racist for her treatment of the indigenous people and she helped in so many ways. She gave us representation and it was GOOD representation.

[tvrningout-a]

i should've switched to writing original stuff ages ago bc i could've been overcoming writer's block if i did :' )

[bingotime]

google how do i release my pent up rage and fury caused by my father attempting to contact me.

[sonknuxadow]

will always be wild to me how proship/anti anti/whatever types are always going "oh im just anti harassment :) i dont think people should be harassed over fictional characters thats all :)" but then the second they see someone say something they dont like they suddenly have no problem with harassing people over fictional characters

[terastaleyes]

I ♡ THIS IMAGE. ITS RIGHT. U DON'T NEED TO ACCEPT EVERYTHING AND U DON'T NEED TO BE NEUTRAL ON THINGS U ACTUALLY DON'T LIKE. ITS JUST WHEN IT TAKES OVER YOUR MENTAL HEALTH WHEN I THINK IT NEEDS TO BE DEALT WITH.

[yazthebookish]

I'm here to release unhinged fandom energy especially about my favorite ships and book stuff.

[veone]

…do y’all actually know why berie is being talked about?

[flashhwing]

I’m really curious what I did to get blocked by so many dragon age/anders fans so quickly. usually I’m in a fandom for a lot longer before I start finding random people who blocked me

[purplelapislazuli]

My brain is a mess. I wish I could grab it, throw it in the washing machine and then put it back. Maybe that way the depression would be gone, or at least the spinning would throw these thoughts away

[vigil4nted]

Lemme cut it to you straight. If you hate B.illy from Stranger Things, then you hate me. If you watched Season 3 like I did, then you would have seen it was a.buse & t.rauma that fucked him up the way he was. The same thing happened with me.  So if you’re going to hold the ideaology the a.buse victims can’t become the a.buser after get the fuck out of my blog and out of my life.  I am fucking recovering from being a.busive. I am doing everything I can to be better. I am trying to heal. And you motherfuckers out here saying that there’s no redemption for those types of people, that y’know we deserve to die for it, then, y’know. Fucking leave. I don’t need people who think that way here.  And I’m going to outright say it; at the end of S3 B.illy fucking saw everything. El brought it to his attention and he acknowledged it. I had the same thing happen to me - someone has to knock the sense into you. And if you have a fucking heart, then you start to recover and do the right thing. If he really was this piece of shit; he would have fucking let El die. I’m fucking sorry but you didn’t watch the same show I did. You clearly don’t understand the fucking hard as hell road you follow when you have that kind of life.  Let me put it to you this way; it’s the same as S.tarscream. S.tarscream knew nothing but a.buse from M.egatron - and what did S.tarscream end up doing in P.rime? Oh right. Reenacting that a.buse on someone that was seen as lesser than him. Hm. Couldn’t be learned behaviors can be repeated. And once again if you’re a shithead who genuinely believes a.buse victims can’t become the a.buser then kindly get the fuck off my blog and crawl back under that rock you came from.  I’m not going to play nice because I am so tired of the mentality of if you a.bused once you deserve to basically fucking die. No. Not everyone does. People can change. People can redeem. If you don’t believe that; then fuck off. Because I don’t need people who believe that I shouldn’t be alive right now because in the past I was a manipulative, a.busive piece of shit.  Thank you.