#and i took him through my skate route and it was really nice! we smoked a j at 9am and then grabbed coffee and went back to my place

[loverboybitch]

hello hello goodmorning hello <3 had a wonderful little day yesterday that concluded with me sitting down on the bus to go home and there was this lil flower wedged into the rail of my seat <3 friend said “flower for the flower boy” hehe yeah <3.//.

[cockasinthebird]

ahhh grats on the milestone!! also holy shit youve got 500 prompts stored away somewhere??? im gonna go with my favourite number combo..... 317 👀 im super excited to see what you come up with!! 💖 -bbsitterpng

@babysitterpng  Thank you so much!!! And yes, 500 goddamn prompts, all carefully curated, only the best for my beloved mutuals and followers!!

I got SO ELATED when I saw that you sent me a mystery prompt request!!!! ❤️💕 I would have finished it yesterday, but I got uhhh distracted 😏😏😏

317. “I think you’ll be happy to know I’m not wearing any underwear.”

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again and again and again; I knew exactly what I wanted to write for this immediately, and while I worry the exposition seems too rushed, I am very satisfied with the rest, all near 4k words!

So please, enjoy~

-

Today has been a long day that started when the sun had barely found its place in the sky.

Neil was beating at his bedroom door, asking why it’s locked, threatening to kick it down, demanding that Billy get up right now to mow the lawn, just to complain about what a shitty job he did after, shouting about how he has to do everything himself.

Billy would beat his pillows, lift weights till his muscles hurt, and smoke like a chimney, all to alleviate stress in one way or another.

At 12 Max was leaving to go play DnD with her little loser friends, ready to skate her way over there, but Billy needed to get out of the house, have a valid excuse, and it doesn’t get better than “watching out for his little sister.”

They’re on good terms now, after they had gotten in an intense fight and she screamed at him to just leave her and her friends alone, and after not spending every waking hour hating and antagonizing her, she’s not as annoying anymore, and Billy thinks that perhaps his anger was the issue here, not her being a little shit.

That realisation helped him a lot in general. It’s around that time he “apologised” to Harrington the best he could, but when Steve was nice and understanding of his issues, it only made him angry again. Billy doesn’t believe he deserves to be forgiven so easily, no, Harrington should have hit him, defended himself, gotten pissed and told Billy to fuck off.

Instead they wound up at Benny’s diner, sharing a giant plate of fries and a milkshake each.

“My treat,” Steve insisted.

And that’s when old issues resurfaced; the same exact issues that meant they had to leave California. The same exact issues that brought Billy’s wrath upon this pretty boy. The same exact issues that led one thing to another, and now Billy knows the route from his house to the Harrington Mansion like the back of his hand; could drive it with his eyes closed now.

But he doesn’t want to seem needy or clingy. Doesn’t want to be what he is - the way he is.

So after dropping Max off at the Wheeler’s house, the fiery redhead even going as far as to offer him a bit of a smile, he didn’t go home. Didn’t drive to Steve’s house either no matter how much he wanted to.

Don’t be needy, don’t be clingy. You’ll see him later.

So for four hours he drove around town, smoked by the quarry, got admired at a gas station when he refilled, passed Steve’s street far too many times, went to the empty pool that’s closed for the year and sat with his feet over the edge and smoked some more, restlessly kicking the tiling. Over the course of this time he checked his watch at least a billion times.

When it was finally 4pm, he drove to pick up his sister and El - the gang having managed to convince both Steve and Billy to take them to the movies to watch the last screening of The Neverending Story, which doesn’t exactly sound like something he wants to watch, but knowing Steve will be there, he agreed all too readily.

And as he pulls back up to the Wheeler’s again, he sees the brown BMW, Steve leaning against the door as he waits for the boys to pile into his car. Billy’s heart is beating like a painful drum in his aching chest, and when Steve sees him sitting and waiting for the girls, he smiles at him and waves.

Billy is as always astounded and breathless by the way Steve smiles, the way Steve looks at him now, like he’s happy to see him. He can’t smile back, he wants to, but his face feels dull and incapacitated. He wants to just kick open his car door, stomp up to Steve and fucking kiss him. Instead he simply waves back.

Then Max breaks the trance as she pulls open the door and crawls in to sit in the back with El.

“What the hell took you guys so long, I’m starving,” Billy complains as he looks over his shoulder at them.

Max is smart and doesn’t answer, and Billy is smart and doesn’t ask again. No he remains quiet as they follow the beemer, Max and El laughing loud and joyous behind him like girls their age do, talking about shit he doesn’t care for, just focuses on the car in front as they drive to Benny’s diner for early dinner before going to wolf down popcorn at the cinema.

-

The gang is eager and excited, like kids should be, running to the diner as they talk all too frantically about whatever it is kids talk about, Billy is really not paying attention, when Steve is right there.

“Find a booth where we can all sit!” Steve shouts after them, and Billy’s not sure if they heard him at all. “Hey Hargrove, got a smoke?” his voice kinder and friendly, too friendly, as he addresses Billy.

Steve leans against the hood of the camaro, smiling all too wide. He’s dressed in high waisted jeans and a red crop top that shows just enough of a midriff for it to be too much for Billy.

He takes up a spot next to Steve, just far away enough for it to not be suspicious, but absolutely too far away for it to not be enough, yet even from here he can smell the floral soap and honey shampoo. Can’t help but think of how soft Steve’s skin is, how silky his hair is, all newly washed and clean of him. Wonders if the purple hickeys are still visible across his chest, up his thighs.

Even though Steve is trying his best to meet Billy’s gaze, he refuses to look at him just in case it would be too obvious what he’s thinking about, as he unwraps a fresh pack of Marlboro and offers one up.

When Billy ignites his lighter and reaches forth, Steve touches his hand, holds it steady as he leans in to bring his cigarette to the flame. There’s a burning sensation where his pale, soft hand connects them, and when Steve dares rub Billy’s wrist with his fingers, there’s a pain shooting through his heart, a sharp wanting for more. No, a need for more. He’s caught staring at those pretty, pink lips when Steve pulls away and exhales a cloud.

“What’s wrong?” he asks with a wry smile, clearly aware.

“You know damn well ‘what’s wrong’,” Billy snaps a bit harsher than intended as he continues to force himself to look away.

Thankfully Steve takes it well and huffs a laugh filled with smoke.

They end up in silence after that; the comfortable kind that comes from being at peace together, easy and relaxed and pleasant, one where they don’t need words because there’s no longer any doubt between them. Perhaps that’s what love is, as cheesy and gross as that may be, Billy ponders. To be able to just exist together without it being awkward or stilted. Perhaps he’s fallen a bit in love with his ex-rival. Or perhaps he’s just in love with how he feels when he’s with Steve, both physical and not.

It isn’t till Steve finishes his cigarette, drops it on the asphalt and stomps it out, that he speaks,

“Oh, I almost forgot, I wanted to tell you something.” He’s smiling like the cat that got the cream, licking his lips a bit too slowly as he goes to whisper in Billy’s ear, “I think you’ll be happy to know I’m not wearing any underwear.”

Billy’s heart skips several beats at that, before then going too fast - rapidly pumping blood through him, and there’s a certain rush of it going straight to his dick. He stares too long into those deep, dark eyes, mischievous and satisfied with the response as Billy short circuits.

“What?”

Steve shrugs and tips his head to the side a bit, acting all innocent and oblivious, lips drawn tight in a smile that goes from ear to ear. He opens his mouth and takes a long inhale, insinuating that he’s about to say something, then simply turns around, hands in his pockets as he walks towards the diner.

Leaving Billy behind, baffled, astonished, dumbfounded.

-

The next two hours feels like days.

They sit in the diner, Billy and Steve across from one another.

The kids are still as energetic as before, their voices a jumble of words and phrases and retellings of DnD from today’s session. Steve chews on his straw as he tries to follow along with whatever they’re talking about, laughing when they laugh, nodding on occasions. Whenever he looks over at Billy, blue eyes flee to stare out the window instead, finding great interest in the pattern of how one street light flickers.

Before the movie starts, they go to let out water by the urinals of the cinema, Billy standing right next to Steve, having hoped to catch a glimpse, see if he’s telling the truth, the urge near irresistible to just take a quick look, but the other men around them might not take too kindly to something like that.

And during the movie they sit together at the end of the row.

Steve, Billy, Max, El, Mike, Will, Dustin, Lucas.

He didn’t care for the movie before, only going along as a sign of friendliness and to have an excuse to not be home, but now. Now he’s almost hating having to sit here, next to Steve, shoulders nearly touching, shoes pressed together on the dark floor, only an armrest between them.

For the first twenty arduous minutes, Steve doesn’t do anything, doesn’t say anything, showing no sign of registering how near they are, just watches the movie in silence with a smile, while Billy is sat next to him, burning up despite his shirt being unbuttoned as always, mind racing with thoughts and images of Steve Steve Steve.

So distracted by all of that, that he nearly jumps when Steve touches his hand. Same softness and tenderness from earlier on the parking lot, the way Steve always touches him with just a hint of hesitance when they’re not completely alone.

But the cinema is dark, the kids are entranced, and there’s barely a handful of people besides them, so maybe it’s safe enough.

Billy raises his fingers into the touch, thinking that Steve wants to hold hands, intertwine them, any of that stupid romantic shit that he loves and Billy pretends to only barely tolerate, but the touch moves past that, a feather across the back of his hand, up to gently and carefully grab him by the wrist.

At that, Billy finally looks down, keeps facing the big screen but pays acute attention to what Steve is doing, where he’s leading his hand, placing it on his knee, Billy’s fingers in between spread legs. He continues to guide the hand further up, towards the heat of where his thighs meet, effectively sending Billy’s heart rate sky high.

When he finally turns his head, he finds Steve staring right back, a small and restrained smile, and in that moment, Billy feels like he can read Steve’s thoughts, knows exactly what’s on his mind, never doubts it for a second, and is proved right when Steve stands up and climbs over the seat to walk along the empty row behind them.

Billy whips around to Max, and hisses out, “We’re going for a smoke, don’t fucking go anywhere.”

“Yeah yeah,” she groans all indifferent and waves him away, eyes big and caught in the movie.

-

The bathroom at the Hawk is as clean as it ever gets, and perhaps not too shockingly, empty. Movies are running and people are seated.

Steve stands looking at himself in the mirror, fixing his hair, not that it looks any different to Billy now than before.

He takes heavy steps towards the brunette, announcing himself and catches Steve’s eyes in the mirror, watching as Billy approaches and steps behind him. Billy leans in to run his nose up Steve’s neck, inhaling deeply and humming out pleasantly, blinking slowly as he keeps pressing his face into the crook there, not quite kissing yet.

Eyes dart back to the mirror where heavenly blue meets chocolate brown, a feverish intensity there as Steve stares back. Gently, but with no hesitation, Billy snakes his arms around Steve’s waist, past the belt and up to touch where skin shows between jeans and the top.

When there’s no ‘stop’, he keeps going, curls his fingers around the red fabric and lifts up, exposing Steve’s chest to the both of them in the mirror. Bitten and marked, purple and red, Billy eyes his masterwork with an appreciative gaze, and with one hand keeping the shirt away, he moves the other up to graze his fingers across each little bruise his lips left just two days ago.

Steve hums a bit, erotic and turned on, and if more were to happen now, it wouldn’t be the first time they’d found their way together in public. And perhaps that thought strikes Steve just as it does Billy, for he pushes back into him, rubbing his soft ass against where he finds a slight bulge already.

“Fuck, Stevie…” Billy huffs and breathes against Steve’s neck, eyes closed as he relishes in the slow friction, kissing sloppy and half-minded against pale skin. “You really wanna do this here? Where the kids could just walk in any moment?”

“I would have maybe pushed you into a stall first,” Steve laughs, a slight stutter to it. “But I was thinking your car? The movie is like two hours, we could find an alley, park there, let me ride your cock?”

A growl escapes by the enchantment of those words, and Billy bites into Steve’s neck, earning him an illicit little hiss and smirk.

“How am I supposed to say no when you put it like that?”

-

Neither of them feel particularly bad for just abandoning the gang like that, but they’ll be quick, hidden in this alleyway, not too far away from the theatre, a bit of fun while the others gawk and gape at the magic of movies.

But it’s hard to be remorseful, when Steve is moaning like this, Billy two fingers deep in him in the driver's seat of the camaro.

Steve didn't lie about going commando today; told Billy, “When I found out you were tagging along, I hoped I’d get to have you alone like this.”

It took Steve less than two seconds to start getting undressed when Billy turned off the engine, whereafter he crawled right onto his lap, hard and bottomless, knees over Billy’s shoulders, feet locked behind the headrest, back against the steering wheel. 

“Ah-h, mmh, fuck, Billy-” he whines, hands placed firm on Billy’s legs for support as he lifts and angles his ass to allow Billy access with lubed up fingers.

His other hand squeezes Steve’s leaking prick, using the precum to slick up the flesh, keeping him hard and crying like that. His own lonesome cock aches where it lies full against his stomach; the button down having been opened completely to avoid staining it, and giving Steve something to admire.

“Billy, please, just- oh- just fuck me already!” Steve’s voice pitched high with lust and impatience, brows drawn together, his arms shaking underneath his own weight.

“Just don’t wanna hurt you, baby,” Billy purrs.

He watches with great interest as he pumps two fingers in and out of Steve’s wet hole, making a scissoring motion to stretch him properly.

“Mmh, we don’t exactly have time for that, and I need you so bad,” Steve says with the sweetest, most alluring tone he can.

And God if that doesn’t go straight to Billy’s twitching dick.

“You sure?” He wants to double check anyways.

“Yes- yes! Just- get a condom, I don’t wanna ruin my favourite pants.”

Billy chuckles lightly at that thought as he leans to reach for the glovebox, absolutely turned on by the idea of Steve walking around brimming with him, his cum dripping out and running down his thighs. Perhaps another time.

The condom rolls on with ease, Billy having become quite the expert with one through time, but he has been getting a lot of practice lately what with Steve and his more adventurous side, and wearing a rubber when fucking in public makes for an easy and quick cleanup. He gives himself a few good strokes to lube up good and nice, ensuring that Steve gets a smooth ride as he aligns himself with the hole that flutters eagerly to suck him in.

Greedy, starved, zealous, Steve sits himself on that veiny dick, ass fully flush with Billy’s hips, breathlessly gasping and cursing around his name, “Fuck Billy…”

“Mmmh,” Billy hums and licks his lips, staring down with adoration at how he’s buried deep inside of Steve’s ass, tight with lack of preparation, but- “You feel so good baby, taking my cock so well.”

He brings his hands to grab Steve by the hips and guide him in a circular motion, muscles clenching around him that can only be described as beautiful, eliciting groans and causing him to dig in his nails.

Steve’s panting, bangs sticking to his forehead from sweat, the windows fogged up, telling anyone that would walk by exactly what was going on, and when he lifts up to fuck himself on Billy’s fat erection, they shake the entire car with his fervor; each time he sinks down he moans more; moans with less and less self control.

“Take off your shirt, pretty boy,” Billy drawls out and swipes his tongue across shiny and sharp teeth. “Wanna see you.”

It’s a hurried motion that takes less than three seconds for Steve to yank off the crop top and grab on to Billy’s knees again, refusing to wait even one moment in the haze of his neediness. 

Billy, however, faced with marks of his own making, takes time to appreciate how perfectly purple suits Steve’s pale skin, blooming across his pecs, his tits, near nipples that strut now, begging to be touched. And who is he not to oblige. Hands travel up from hips, past the waist, to Steve’s chest - the brunette seemingly lost in chasing his own high, that he doesn’t notice where Billy is going till he presses hard against the sensitive buds.

“A-ah! Fuck, Billy!” And he throws his head back.

Steve’s entire body tenses at that, each muscle flexing and twitching, contracting around Billy’s steely cock, and he can’t help himself but to thrust into the clenching hole, the rim taking a chokehold on the base of his prick. Steve has to bring up a hand against the roof of the car to keep himself from hitting his head, while also giving him the ideal leverage to push down hard, bodies colliding, skin slapping together in a lascivious and erotic rhythm.

“God, you’re such a little slut for my cock, huh baby?” Billy growls like a ravenous wolf as he pounds into Steve, forcing out every little cry and moan, telling him that he’s hitting just the right spot.

“Billy- Billy, ah-a, fuck- fuck-” Steve whimpers and looks down to watch one hand on his hip that pulls him down, another rubbing hard against his nipple. 

“Yeah, harrh, listen to yourself,” and Billy pauses to listen to how Steve mewls, revelling in the fact that he’s the cause of that. “So loud and lewd, baby, calling out my name like that.”

“Billy.”

He’s a confident guy, Keg King and lady killer, and while shit like emotions and feelings stuns him, this brings him alive, lust coiling in his gut, burning hot and white, ramping up to a fever pitch as he fucks with wild abandon into Steve’s wet cunt.

Billy hasn’t bothered masturbating in a good while, no, he saves all of that pent up energy for Steve, to fill him up; desire blinding him to anyone else but his princess.

“Mmhnn- ahh, fuck, Stevie, can’t wait to get you alone tonight,” he says, voice fucked out and perverted, Steve looking at him as he speaks, “Drop off all the little shits and then fuck you into your mattress till you’re a mess, pump you full of my cum.”

Steve’s eyes screws shut tight, mouth wide open as he moans, “Yes, oh God, Billy-”

“Yeah? You want that?”

“Yes! Please! Fuck-” He nods the best he can, hair bouncing.

“You’re such a good little whore for me, princess, so needy for my cock.”

“Billy- Billy please,” Steve croons, all pathetic and close.

“Anything,” Billy responds with fast devotion, a promise that he gladly lives up to, knowing well what it is Steve is begging for, wants to hear him say it anyways.

“Touch me, please, ah-h- I’m so so close, fuck…”

Billy grins wide, so self satisfied it’s nearly disgusting, and he closes his fingers firm around Steve’s slick erection; he gets so fucking wet, leaking profusely, swears it only happens when he’s with Billy like this.

“Just like that, yes! Oh fuck, I’m- ah-”

“Yeah, cum for me baby, wanna watch you- show me what I do to you.”

Billy jerks him off quick and crude, knows how Steve likes it, how he needs it; loves being manhandled, talks about that whenever he’s with Billy he feels small and light.

And Steve cums with a loud and unadulterated moan, stilling his entire body in a tense pose as Billy fucks him fast; slamming quickly against his prostate, hand milking him good till he’s emptied out on his own chest.

It is a glorious thing to watch, a masterpiece of performance only for him, a grand show for a one man audience that Billy gets to relive again and again and again. Steve’s jaw drops as he continues to cry out like he’s a goddamn porn star, overstimulated and loving it.

Billy’s own orgasm is far less showy; a few shallow, brutish thrusts, grunting through gritted teeth, he shoves Steve down onto him hard as his hips stutter through completion, waves of impossible heat pouring out and leaving him a puddle of bliss and euphoria.

Time is lost to them, as they sit like that; Steve’s one leg having fallen between the seats as he went limp with exhaustion, still firmly planted in Billy’s lap, who’s soft and complacent and fucking tired, both of them breathing heavy.

“We should… we should go back…” Steve mumbles with closed eyes.

Billy’s watching the way Steve’s cum slowly slips down his chest, running over his abs and nearing his pubic hair.

“Do we have to?” he eventually manages to ask.

And Steve chuckles at that, the vibrations through his body clenching around Billy’s spent cock and he can’t help the sore “ooh”s and “ahh”s as he tries to pull away from it.

“Sadly we do. Can’t have the kids walk home alone in the dark, besides…” Steve grinds his ass onto Billy’s lap, making him wince in not quite pain, not quite pleasure, but definitely too much. “Think you promised to… fuck me into my mattress?”

[pbandjesse]

I'm feeling kind of low tonight. The bruise on my leg has spread and become one giant bruise. So I had to call the doctor. I actually did it on the app and spoke to a nurse. And send a picture. And they told me to call. And I did. And they said I should come in. So I'm going to the doctor on Thursday. Everyone is very excited. Because they've been telling me all day today and all day yesterday to go to the doctor and I was being stubborn. Mostly I was being scared. But it's getting too bad.

Honestly I just feel very tired. Today was a long day. I slept okay last night and I woke up what's my alarm. I got dressed and had a bowl of cereal. And then I went to the museum. I was a couple minutes early and check the tour route. It was kind of a annoying day because the schools were early and that through off the tour is and then no one seemed to know where people were supposed to be and I was listening to my manager and other people weren't it was a whole thing. I don't know why everything got so confused but it was fine. Just obnoxious to kind of have to Vamp when there's that many tours happening.

But I survived. I collected more of the cardboard squares from upstairs and put them in a box and jam to the box in my bike basket and went to the bus.

While I was on the bus I got to do a survey from the Metro about how the service is. And I told them that my biggest complaint is sometimes three buses will come all next to each other. And what should happen when the buses but up against each other like that is that everyone should get off the other two boxes onto one. The other two buses should wait. And then get themselves back on schedule. Because right now they're not running on any schedule at all it seems and even the app doesn't know when they're coming. That's ridiculous.

Then I got to school only a couple of minutes late. It was all good. I had my pizza that I picked up at 7-Eleven and went to find Chelsea. We talked about what we were going to do that day and made some plans. It was all good. We were both kind of sad that we're not going to Six Flags on Friday anymore but it'll still be a fun day with the little kids.

In general today was a good day. We got our students and it was a small class. Everybody came upstairs and got right into their working. We went outside it's beautiful. Al is brought these very strange four wheeled skates that were wheeled in the front, two 9n the sides, and one in the back. But like me she felt that the basketball court was the safest and flattest place that she could do it. So I rode around on my skateboard and she worked on her roller skates. And it was a lot of fun.

We had dinner and cleaned up and then Chelsea went to the classroom to kind of set up stations for art making. The boys worked on mosaics. Specifically they wanted to make tiny laptops. Which was very cute. Damien made a puppet. Couple of the girls worked on mosaics again with the stones and the beads. Everyone was so excited about how many squares I brought. Literally a thousand. And then Dallas was running a marbling paper station.

I had never marble paper before. So I told Dow she was going to be in charge of this project. And it first that was fine. They each had containers they put Smokes on that use the shaving cream and food coloring to create patterns and then there's paper in it. But then about a half way through the class they all just started making foam color. That's fine. Make some sensory art. I don't care. What a dick Carol was when they started pouring it into each other's containers. Because then it started getting on the floor. And then start getting on all of them. Somehow they used an entire gallon of paint. She was wild how much paint they use. It didn't go horribly but it was a huge mess at the end and I kept telling Dallas that this was her project and so she was responsible. And she kept saying but it wasn't me. And I kept trying to explain to her that even if it wasn't her she was responsible because it was her project. So she got them off and she mop the ground. China helped. And everyone work together as best we could but it was hard because so many people are getting picked up early. We did our best but it took almost 40 minutes to clean the classroom.

I got upset though because while we're cleaning I am losing steam. My leg was hurting and my arm was hurting. During the art time I had called the nurse to make the appointment so I was kind of emotionally drained from that as well. And then two of my kids come back in because their grandmother was upset that they had paint on them. And that she was saying I had to do their laundry. And that how dare I let them get so dirty and stained. Are you serious question mark this is an art class! Like why would you sign up your kids to be in our class and be upset that they have paint on them. Everyone is going to have paint on them it's going to happen it's our class. If you don't want to let them get dirty put them in aftercare. It made me so incensed that after all the kids were gone I stayed behind with chelsi that we can have a meeting with Tiffany. She told me not to worry about it and that she agreed it was a ridiculous comment and she was not happy about it either. That made me feel listen to at least. And then I told her the story of what happened with my accident because my bruise has gotten so bad and Chelsea kept yelling at me because I hadn't gone to the doctor. And Tiffany was shocked that I didn't go as well. She said that I should have stayed home. And honestly I don't disagree but I also feel like yesterday it wasn't that bad. I was sore and stiff but the bruise wasn't as outrageous as it is today. James really thinks that I have some kind of hematoma but I'm very concerned because there is a hard lump next to the impact point now and I am having weird numbness in my leg. It really is the craziest bruise I've ever seen on my body. And that's fairly upsetting but I'm trying not to be too upset.

Because I was leaving later than normal I texted James to see if we're going to have dinner and he wanted to go and get a burger at the marketplace. So I'm going to get the bus and as I'm crossing the street Marcus and Miss Elaine honk their horn at me and they gave me a ride back to my neighborhood. Just as we were getting to Rite Aid James was walking up the street and so they were yelling out the car at him and waving. It was very cute. It was good to see him.

I did feel in better spirits today. But I think I'm emotionally I'm dealing with a lot and that's hard. We walk to my apartment and stopped for a few minutes to feed sleepy. And then we went to Mount Vernon Marketplace for dinner. We got burgers and we shared fries. He told me about his interview which apparently went really well. I have very high hopes but we keep everything realistic just in case. It would be so good for him. And I really want him to feel happy and secure. All I ever want it's for him to feel that way.

But we had a really nice dinner and then we came back here. I kind of had it anxiety Spike about moving because there's not a ton we can move right now. A lot of the stuff in the apartment is things that I just need to feel happy and comfortable here. He did bring one bag over and my piggy bank. So at least something got moved in the trip wasn't wasted and that's really what I was upset about. We also made a list of what things are going to his place what things are going to his parents place and what things are coming back to my parents place. That helped a lot.

He went home and I took a shower. And now I'm just laying in bed watching videos. I'm going to go get an ice pack and try to get some rest. My arm is hurting me and tomorrow's going to be another long day. The plan for tomorrow is Museum in the morning then hopefully I get to the school and have time to do some cleaning and organizing. I really want to get a lot of the stuff that's on the cart off the cart so that we don't have to think about it on Thursday and Friday. And then rest. That's all I want.

I hope you guys all have a good night. Send me some good vibes because I feel sad. And stressed. Good night everyone

[satyr-syd]

When Bakugou comes back to Yuuei after All Might and the other heroes rescue him, Uraraka gives him a big, tight hug, and Bakugou doesn't know how to feel about that.

"Bakuuuu!!"

Before Bakugou can tell Uraraka to fuck off, she nearly crushes him in a tight embrace. Her strong, warm body presses up against him and he suddenly feels weightless - and uncomfortable because he never lets anyone hug him. But Uraraka lets go as quickly as she first grabbed him. Still, Bakugou feels weightless. Actually, he's pretty sure his feet aren't touching the ground.

"What the shit."

"Sorry Baku!" Uraraka says, clapping her fingers together and releasing her hold on him. His feet hit the ground with a thud. "That sometimes happens, I slip up when I get distracted, I – we're just so glad you're safe!"

Bakugou scowls. “’Course I’m fine.”

Why would you be glad? he thinks. It’s not like he’s friends with Uraraka or anything. Apart from their battle at the sports festival, they’ve barely said two words to each other. He only knows her because she’s strong - that much was apparent from the sports festival, no matter what all those other bastards said about her being ‘fragile’- and has bad taste in friends. She hangs out around Deku and that Engine kid all the time.

Not that he’s been paying attention - Bakugou’s just observant.

Uraraka must be like Deku: the kind of person who thinks they have to help everyone out, caring about everyone, even if they obviously don’t want to be helped or cared about. That’s why she’s glad he’s safe. Because of some superficial obligation or some shit like that.

Probably. But then why did she correct herself with “we” when she clearly was going to say “I”? It didn’t make sense.

It takes all of Bakugou’s strength not to explode when the rest of his class all start fawning over him. “Fuck off! Fucking hell, I’m fine!” he shouts, but they ignore him, which pisses him off even more.

Bakugou’s fists are nearly about to explode when Aiwaza walks in, staring at Bakugou intently. That dickface thinks I can’t control myself, Bakugou thinks with a frown. “What’re you staring for?” he barks at his teacher.

“Calm down, Bakugou, you just have something in your teeth,” Aizawa says with a sigh. “Everyone sit down - class has begun.”

The class disperses into their seats, and for the rest of the period, Bakugou anxiously runs his tongue along his gums, turning the question around in his thoughts: why does Uraraka care?

A week passes, and finally, Bakugou can’t stand it any more. At first he thought it was stupid to mull over something as meaningless as why Uraraka would say “I” rather than “we,” but Bakugou Katsuki doesn’t bother with stupid things. So it must be important.

After class, Bakugou follows Uraraka home. Just for a little bit - until they’re alone. He doesn’t need any of those dickwards from class interfering.

He hurries around the corner of the next street so he can step out in front of her to block her path. “Hey.”

Uraraka jumps in surprise. “Oh! Baku, you scared me.”

Might as well get right to the point. “Why did you say you were glad I was safe?”

Uraraka tilts her head. “What - um - we all were! You’re our classmate, and we care about you…?”

He clicks his tongue impatiently. She’s saying “we” again. But he wants to know how she could care about him at all with their history. “What about you?  Shouldn't you hate me? I beat you in the sports festival.”

Uraraka shrugs. “You won fairly, because you were better. And you treated me like a real opponent - like I was strong.”

“You are strong,” Bakugou barks. “Those fuckers are fucking idiots if they can’t see that.”

Uraraka looks down to the side, so her hair covers her face. “You really think that?” Bakugou thinks she’s blushing, but that doesn’t seem right - why would she be blushing?

“Duh. You probably could have beaten half the shitheads with a lesser quirk than mine. And Hair-for-Brains said you took down that villain at the forest camp, too.”

She was definitely blushing now. Bakugou felt his cheeks start to redden, too. He scowled at the erratic heartbeat in his chest. Stupid.

“Deku admires you, you know,” she says after the beat of silence.

“I don’t want to talk about De - ”

“I admire you for the same reason!” she interrupts. Bakugou has half a mind to bitch at her for interrupting him, but she doesn’t give a moment’s rest. “Braving through that time with the villains, standing up to them like that...I never could have gotten through that like you did!”

It’s not the first time someone has said that to him the past week. He’s getting tired of hearing it, especially because of what most of them were implying. “I bet you thought I was going to side with those fuckers. You did, didn’t you?” Bakugou mutters.

Uraraka frowns. “Of course not.”

“But why? I’m not stupid - everyone else think I’d fit right in with their crowd, and they’re probably right. ”

Uraraka places her hand on Bakugou’s shoulder. He flinches in surprise, but she doesn’t move her hand. She looks straight into his eye and says, “I know you’re not stupid, Baku. But you are stubborn. No one can convince you to do something you don’t want to, and you said you want to be a hero. So…I had complete confidence in you.”

Suddenly, Bakugou’s stomach turns and he feels unbalanced and...taller. “Uraraka.”

“Yes?”

“Put me the fuck down.”

“Oh, sorry!”

She returns him to the ground, but the weightless feeling doesn’t go away completely. His heart still feels like it’s floating in the clouds, and Bakugou doesn’t know why. And it’s pissing him off.

Uraraka looks at him questioningly, waiting for him to say something. But he said everything he wanted to, and he wants to just walk away but he can’t with her staring at him like that, it’s making his face burn again.

Bakugou finally growls, “I’m going now,” and takes off in the opposite direction.

“Oh - bye, Baku!” he hears her call. “Try not to get captured again!”

Bakugou grates his teeth at her teasing. He shoves his hands in his pockets and fights the urge to look back.

He can’t stop thinking about her and her stupid hug, and it’s fucking annoying.

She said that she had complete confidence in him. That was more than anyone else had said, and she had sounded so sincere about it that it made Bakugou’s toes curl. As irritating as she was, with her fucking compliments and fucking kindness and that fucking blush - he can’t find it in himself to be mad at her.

He adjusts his route home to coincide with hers. He tells himself it’s a shortcut, even though it takes five minutes longer than usual to get home.

He doesn’t talk to her, of course. Why would he want to? She’s annoying. So he keeps his distance, trailing behind her far enough away so that he doesn’t seem like a creepy stalker or something. Or, he tries to.

One day, on their trek home, she stops in the middle of the road.

Shit.

“Bakugou, I know you’re following me.”

Fuck.

He starts to head in the other direction, but she calls out after him, “You can...join me? If you want?”

He should just blow her off, or walk another way, but his feet are already carrying him towards her before his head can catch up. “How did you know I was there?”

“You’re not as discrete as you think.” Uraraka says with a smirk. “Plus, I learned a lot from Battle Hero Gunhead during my internship.”

They walk down the road in silence while Bakugou debates whether or not he should ask more about her internship. It might be useful information, but it's not like he needs it. Should he ask anyway, just to be polite? He immediately shakes the thought from his head. Fuck no! Polite has never - and will never - be Bakugou Katsuki’s style. It’s a waste of time pretending to be nice to people who don’t give a shit about you anyway.

But Uraraka said that she did give a shit - she didn’t say it exactly like that, but she had the same sentiment.

“Hey, Baku - ”

“Don't call me that,” he snaps unthinkingly. He notices Uraraka bite her lip and adjust the straps on her bag awkwardly, and mentally scolds himself. “...it sounds stupid,” he tries to clarify.

“Sorry, Bakugou,” she says dejectedly. Bakugou feels insanely guilty, not that he should because she was just being stupid if she felt bad, because Bakugou didn’t mean anything by it. She’s just being stupid.

A sideways glance shows her head hung beneath a curtain of her hair. Bakugou almost yells in distress. If it was her fault, why does he feel like the guilty one?

Suddenly, a trail of darkness skates his vision, pulling him out of his thoughts. Black smoke...black mist! Bakugou pushes Uraraka to the side and fires an explosion at the cloud. The cloud parts for a moment before compressing back together.

"It's that shithead from before!" Bakugou yells, glancing back at Uraraka. But she's looking up past him, in wonder and horror.

"Black Mist," she mutters. Bakugou whips around to see the cloud has expanded outwards, blocking off half the sky and the street in front of them with a smoky black wall.

"Well well well, if it isn't the young Bakugou, and the little girl from before."

Bakugou growls. "What kind of line is that, fuckmunch?" He's sick of this shit. All these villains that think they have a chance to get him on their side are so fucking arrogant and goddamn idiots if they think he'd want to join them after all of this.

“Won’t you come quietly this time?” Black Mist’s voice echoes through the smoke.

Bakugou grits his teeth together and angrily sets off an explosion from each hand, the reaction force knocking him into Uraraka. They tumble over each other in a pile of limbs.

“Grab my hand,” Uraraka says as she scrambles out from under him. She yanks his hand up before he can reply.

“Let go, bi - ”

“No! We can’t let him separate us. If you let go, he'll warp us apart and take you away again.”

She has a point. He really doesn't want to deal with these shitheads again, and he doesn't want her getting in the way when he blows this fucker away, so he locks his fingers in hers, and hopes she doesn't mind the sweat.

Black Mist surrounds them completely in a tunnel of darkness, isolating them from the rest of the street, and starts to close inwards. They press their backs against each other while Bakugou readies his free fist.

“Your heroes may have infiltrated our base, but the villain alliance is still as strong as before. We could be stronger with your help, Bakugou.”

“Fuck off! Like hell I'm going with you!”

A mailbox suddenly slips out of the fog, flying straight at them. Bakugou’s fist explodes to meet the mailbox mid air, blowing it out of the tunnel of smoke. “That the best you got?” He’ll battle it out, just like before, shooting explosions into the smoke until he finds Black Mist’s true body -

Uraraka tugs his hand, “Baku, I have a plan - ”

“I don't want your help! I don't need it!”

“I don't care!” she shouts. “I didn't ask if you wanted it - I'll fight by your side as long as I'm still standing!”

A garbage can materializes above Uraraka’s head. Bakugou barely has time to yank her aside before blasting his elbow against it. The can shoots through the cone of darkness, creating a hole in its wake, but before Bakuogu can jump through Black Mist fills the opening. “Fuck!”

Uraraka pulls his hand down, her face inches from his own. “We don't have time to argue so just listen!”

She should be terrified, and even though her lip trembles, her eyes are cold and determined. It sends a jolt through his spine - she looks almost scary.

For once, he can't bring himself to argue. He nods briefly and deflects a stream of mist trying to grab at them while she whispers her plan in his ear.

“Now doesn't seem like the time for romance, children,” Black Mist teases.

Uraraka pulls away from his ear and squeezes his hand. “Got it?”

Bakugou nods, and sends a giant explosion behind him, knocking down the telephone pole Uraraka told him was there. She jumps up and touches as it topples over, stopping it in mid air.

A giant black hand reaches for Uraraka and Bakugou leaps in front of her to deflect it with an exploding punch. “Grab it!” he yells as he fights off Black Mist’s creeping tendrils of smoke with consecutive blasts from his knuckles.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees her grab the floating bar. She starts twirling in in her hands. A gust of wind comes off from the pole as she starts to turn it faster, its weightlessness enabling her to spin it so fast, it looks like a solid circle. Black Mist’s attacks struggle to reach Bakugou as the wind speed pushes him back further and further, diffusing his thick wall of smoke.

A glint of silver catches his eye. It hovers twenty feet above them, uncovered by the blast of wind. With a smirk, Bakugou blasts himself off the ground and captures the silver collar in his hand.

“Oh dear…” the villain says in a defeated voice as they fall back down.

Right before he hits the ground, light fingers touch his leg and his momentum stops. He floats to the ground, his harsh grip on the silver collar threatening an explosion at any moment, and Uraraka releases her quirk.

The mist recedes into a cloud around Bakugou's fist, revealing a crowd that had gathered while they had been fighting.

“Oh my gosh, are they okay?”

“They defeated the villain!”

“Are those Yuuei kids?”

“Hey, yeah - it's those class 1-A kids again!”

Uraraka pales and holds her stomach. “I think I'm going to throw up.” She thrusts herself behind a tree and Bakugou cringes at the tell tale sounds of barf.

It's only another few moments before the police appear. Someone must have called them while they were fighting. Bakugou hands Black Mist off to them. “Make sure you do your fucking job right and keep this shitty cloud locked up.”

Once the police have taken a handle of the situation, Bakugou joins Uraraka. She's sitting against a tree (is that the one she threw up behind?), looking less queasy than before.

Before he knows what he's doing, he’s standing in front of her and sticking out his hand.

Uraraka smiles gratefully and takes it, and he pulls her up to her feet.

“If you're expecting me to thank you, you're wrong,” he tells her. He didn't need her help getting rid of that bastard. She just would have been more of a burden if he didn't let her help.

Uraraka smiles. “I'm not expecting anything of you.”

Suddenly her hands rest on either side of his face, and she guides his head down until their faces are even. Bakugou gulps. He hates when people touch him, normally, but Uraraka’s hands feel delicate and soft on his cheeks and it’s actually kind of nice. “It's enough that you're safe, this time,” she says. And then she swiftly kisses his cheek.

Shocked, Bakugou nearly jumps a foot in the air - only he's floating. Again.

“Oh!” She touches her fingertips together before Bakugou can say anything. “Sorry, Baku - I mean, Bakugou!”

Uraraka drops her head, staring embarrassingly at her feet.

And that's when Bakugou realizes - she kissed him. On the cheek, but still. That means - she likes me. That would explain her adorable - adorable? - blushing, why she cared that he was safe, why she insisted on fighting with him. She likes me. He can’t explain why that makes him so happy, but it does, and Bakugou’s cheeks explode in blush and he has to bite his lip to keep from grinning.

Uraraka takes a step back, and Bakugou realized how long the silence stretched out. Say something, stupid! He quickly spits out, “... you can call me Katsuki. If you want. I guess.”

Uraraka’s sudden smile is more brilliant than any explosion Bakugou could make. “You can call me Ochako, Katsuki!”

His heart thumps loudly when Ura - Ochako takes his hands in hers. The walk down the road together, Ochako swinging their hands back and forth, and Bakugou thinks that maybe it isn't so bad to have someone fighting by his side.

Also on ao3

[thegnasticious]

Dwayne, The Pool Guy

I’m a man of stories. If you’ve got a story, I’m all ears all day.

My story is a simple one

I grew up in a small Southern town in a typical African American family.

We dealt with people throwing us bad glances when we grew up, all based on our color, our demeanor.

Some say racism died with Martin Luther King, but if you walk with someone of my color enough, you’ll notice it hasn’t. Imbalance is worse than it ever was, politics and technology work like gas to a fire.

I never thought this was a problem, not bad enough to ruin my life. I used to see the Neo Nazi’s rev’ing their trucks behind the high-school football games, waiting to infect the parties with their self-brewed drugs and rhetoric. You’d see them picking on people like me in the hallways, sometimes it escalated to physical harm but that was seldom documented, or witnessed. All of this was what it was, until a Brother of mine, Nadeus, didn’t show up to school one day.

We knew he had bad habits, and bad people following him. I always tried to see past it, because he was my best friend, all I knew from the ages 9-20 outside of my family. I remember the day I met him, we were skate boarding at the local park. It was a sunny day, the birds were out chirping and there was a cool breeze blowing about. I was skating down the entrance way when I almost ran into him. His skateboard shot out in to crowd of people watching aside.

“What the hell are you doing man?” he said to me.

“I didn’t see you, I’m sorry” 

He looked at me sternly for a few seconds and walked over to grab his skateboard.

He was tall for his age 

with a bald brown head gleaming in the sunlight.

Everybody cleared as he approached.

He returned with his skateboard and said,

“What’s your name?”

“Dwayne, what’s your’s?”

“Nadeus”, he responded.

“You know any tricks?” he asked.

“Yea, I just learned a pop shove-it” 

I dropped my board, 

sunk my feet into the movement and kicked the board up,

spinning it throughout the air.

I landed it, he then copied the same move to the point.

I followed up with another trick,

this time off the stair the set, landing it with ease.

He followed and did the same. 

This continued til’ the sun went down,

I walked with him back later.

It turned out he lived in the same neighborhood as me, so we exchanged numbers and said we’d try to meet again.

As school started that year, I recognized Nadeus in one of my classes,

he was seated right near me. 

Throughout the year I got to know Nadeus better. He was quiet for the most part, we were the only two African Americans in the class so we felt kind of odd. Southern schools are different, they are smaller, everyone knows each other and knows who they think of as an outsider. We unfortunately were the minority without a doubt. We would pass notes to each other making fun of the overtly racist classmates who came from what they saw as, confederate backgrounds. We’d draw pictures of their trucks crashing, their flags on fire, giant phallics attacking their BBQ’s from the sky.

All sorts of shit, it kept us entertained. 

It was all fun and games until one day after High school,

I was walking back with Nadeus, 

and some of the these classmates followed us slowly.

We walked the route we usually did, trying to add in little passages between houses to avoid them, but somehow their rusted Red truck kept coming from the corner of every street we approached. 

We were usually harassed by these guys, but something was different this time.

Finally Nadeus had it and Flipped them off as they drove by.

They quickly hit the breaks and hopped out the truck.

one of them I recognized as Billy, 

he grappled a two by four and look of bloodlust in his eyes. 

His pupils like black holes, approached the us at in in human rate.

A girl in the car quickly jumped out as well, running to the scene. 

The man began to draw the two by four back, walking right at me.

The girl jumped in front,

he swung but pulled as he realized she was there. 

It thudded against her chest, knocking the wind out.

She stood coughing and turned to me and Nadeus,

“Get the fuck out of here” she said.

Her Black Hair moved slowly in the afternoon wind.

She was my angel, both me and Nadeus turned and left.

I looked behind as we walked away and saw her knock the two by four from his hands ass if it weighed nothing. She slapped him so hard he nearly toppled over 

“Billy.......Get back HOME now!” she yelled at him.

She then grabbed him by the ear and led him back to the truck, his apeish demeanor breaking down to what looked like a little kid getting dragged by his mother.

The next day I woke up for school feeling better than ever to be alive. It was as if I woke up in a new house in a new body, a better life. But somehow it was my own, the same old thing I always knew. That was the day that Nadeus’s seat stayed empty. I remember wondering where he’d been, he wasn’t sick the day before, or acting weird. There was no announcement, no questions, no wondering. Nothing, it was as if the whole day was an eery silence that didn’t really happen. It was when I came home that I knew something was wrong. There was a police car sitting in my driveway. I came through my front door to find my Ma crying on the sofa. Two officers surrounded her, she looked at me and said, “Dwayne, these men need to talk with you”

The rest was a blur of questions and statements. They were ruling out an overdose, because of how it aesthetically appeared, I asked to see photos and they allowed me to. His corpse looked nothing like him; appearing gaunt and lifeless. His eyes like two black marbles, falling into the depths of a sullen face. His muscles had all but receded to little thimbles. I knew the guy didn’t do drugs, never. I  also could swear one of the officers was an older brother of one of the attackers as well. He kept quiet in the corner, shooting death glares at me from time to time. The whole situation seemed beyond hopeless. 

They played good-cop bad-cop with me for a while, seeing what they could get out of me, admissions of guilt, anything. I knew they were looking for somebody to frame so I kept my lips sealed.

After seeing the pictures, my mind drew a hard blank, the Red truck and the people’s faces blurred, the thought was replaced by a vast nothingness. The feeling that I’ve lost my only friend. I’m alone again. It wasn’t long before the officer’s realized there was nothing more they could get out of me, and they sent me on my way.

I walked back home from the station with the dark of the night just beginning to set in. I thought of Nadeus, and where he might be now; to me heaven and hell was no more than a mindset, a switch of coding by a conductor seldom seen, leading to anything the mind can perceive as real, besides the thing that got it there. Maybe in some ways this thing was the god element; the inherent force that sways through empty spaces at night, feeling every curve of the darkness until it’s all shrilled by piercing morning light. Nadeus was now somewhere in the darkness, in metaphor and presence. 

I could see the clouds ahead of me beginning to electrify with a storm. A full moon loomed ahead of the wall of thunderheads, lighting a little bit of my way. I hurried my pace to get back before the rain started, I could already hear thunder echoing in the distance. As I walked further down the street, I started hearing a whooshing noise from above. I couldn’t place it to be behind me or to the side of me, it just kept coming, almost like a gust of air. I upped my pace to an almost light jog, I could see the glimmer of the old town reservoir in the distance. Home luckily wasn’t too far. The trees were already starting to bend with ominous gusts, a little drizzle picked up. Ahead of me I could see a street light flickering, I could swear the pattern was “S.O.S.” (an old military based relative of mine used to show me the signal with a flashlight). It did it about 3 times and went dark. I was about to pass under it, when I felt something behind me. I turned fast, looked up, and saw the girl who helped me.  She was above the streetlight, floating at first, her body then swooped right through the metal arch of the streetlight. Her black hair growing like a lifeless shadow throughout the suspended motion.I felt the gust of air I had felt the whole past block and just like that, she was gone, somewhere far in the darkness above. But I knew, she was with me, and I think somehow she knew I hadn’t done wrong, her appearance was safe with me. The rain really began to pick up at that point, so I started running home. When I got home my Ma & Pa, were up watching Dracula. My younger brother, Darius, sat clutching his teddy bear in the light of the old tube t.v., I called them Ma and Pa but really they were my grandparents. I lost my actual parents not to long after I was born in a freak accident, and my Mom’s family has been taking care of my brother and I ever since.

I almost felt like staying outside, letting them enjoy themselves, just finding the nearest place or thing to disappear to. Lately I was a ghost to them; I could disappear and no one would have noticed. 

I decided to walk back to the old reservoir. The rain had died down, and the moon was glowing bright all around. Nadeus and I used to meet up at the reservoir late at night to smoke a joint out of sight, out of mind. Even though he wasn’t going to be here with me tonight, I rolled one up at a park bench nearby. I could see the reservoir from afar. A little light dotted the landing into the dark dot of water. You could see it’s glow echoing throughout the ripples in the lake. I decided to stay in place, I wasn’t fit to go swimming or hiking anyways. The joint I rolled was really nice, round and filled to the brim. The green of the tip had long burned to charred embers; it was about half-way done now. I could see something break in the water from afar. I took a deeper drag, and began to focus on the breaks in the water in the distance. That’s when I saw her again, she slowly surfaced from the water, her Black hair and naked curves glistening in the moonlight. She then sank below the water, seemingly unaware of me. I hadn’t seen that many White girls like this before. Boy was she pretty, like the girls I had seen in the magazines. I’m not sure how long she’s been following me or why, but I didn’t mind her for some reason. I could tell she wasn’t malicious to me. She felt familiar, like someone I had known, though I had never talked directly to her.

As soon as the roach started to burn the tips of my fingers, I left. I didn’t see her again, she seemed to disappear into the water without entrance or exit. I couldn’t help but wonder if she’d been there before, watching me and Nadeus in the dark of the night. We weren’t much to see, but it’s odd to think that someone was probably watching. I always felt like the old reservoir had an odd vibe. Maybe she was why... 

A tune of “Be My Baby”, echoes far in the distance. It’s frequencies leak about a sleepy nook like an infection, seeping in through any opening it can find. 

An old lady living in a victorian house readies her shotgun with bright red shells as she sits on a rocking chair. “Goddamn chilun, granchillun, little chillun, shit noise, shit rocker, I got my red gun a here knocker. You come knock once, knock twice, I’ll act nice. Then I’ll find you in the middle of the night. You won’t like the real me. I don’t care. I’m mean, I gotta shell for each of you when you try to take my rocker”, she said to herself, cocking the shot-gun with her last words. The music echoed through the old wood in the house. She had every window open wide. 

Next door was the source of the blaring Spector mix,

A run down house, hiding in the shadow of the monster next door.

A little glow of orange illuminates the front steps, showing the appearance of a smaller girl. She sits on the front stoop smoking a cigarette by herself. As the night grows darker, her shadow grows bigger, her curves more apparent. In the darkness it was seemingly unnoticeable, but under a light it would have looked similar to photosynthesis. Nobody at the parties ever asked her why or where she went when the sun first went down, that was her special place; a place no one else could ever get to. 

The Spector mixes evolved into a dark electronica over time, and the boom of the bass made her want to go back in even less.

She twisted her dark Black hair, and thought about the cute guy she rescued the other day, where he might be, what he might be doing.

That was when the front door slammed open. The full frequencies blaring and a bit of smoke billowing out as well. A man stood in the doorway, about the size of it. He had a darkening bruise on his face, and a beer held in his left hand. He wore a raggedy leather-man jacket, it looked about ten years too old at this point. Somehow every morning it seemed knitted new, this amongst many other things was something Billy had come to expect rather than understand. 

“Black cat, black cat, what you brought home for me tonight?” he said to her.

“Nothing Billy, leave me alone, you went too far last night. I ain’t got nothing for you” she said, grimacing.

A grin creeped up his face, and he stepped towards her.

“I know you got something, you’re thinking about something.... ripe and juicy, muscular, pure-bred. You thinkin’ about that Black boy aren’t you? How he’d treat you right, put you on pedestal, give you all those big things you’ve always wanted” he said.

She pushed him away and gave him a cold glare.

“Billy you’re drunk, I don’t like seeing you like this, you’d never talk like this otherwise” she said.

“I got three wet girls lined up inside. I don’t care what you want tonight or any night. I saw how that guy was hung the oth...”

Then she slapped him, real hard right in the spot of the bruise. Her face changed from a sense of a sympathy to shear rage in seconds

“Now you shut the fuck up and listen here. We ain’t talkin’ about none of that. You’re two steps from dead Billy, and I’m sick of being mother goose to this whole inbred flock. Half of you don’t even pull through. If it wasn’t for these bullshit accidents you guys cause, you couldn’t possibly get by. I suggest you make plans on getting the fuck out”

He stood there, dumbfounded. 

“What you just plannin’ on hitting the morgues ‘gain? Huh you really think something that dumb would work twice?” he said.

“I only need you as much as you make me need you Billy” she said looking off into the distance.

He threw his beer to the ground, shook his head, then dashed back inside, slamming the door.

The Orange glow grew again, then traveled to the garage. Cigarette in hand, she grabbed 2 cans of gasoline and walked to the houses main external gas line. She opened an old metal valve on the exchange. As she walked by the house she could see Billy with two girls. The blinds had slipped open. A bit of blood spattered on the wall, and the corpse of a young black man on the ground. An old brass Swastika topped a big mirror reflecting the whole bloody orgy. Animal like glares came from all corners. They grabbed at each other in an inhuman nature, moving at demonic like speeds with each thrust and grab, 

‘if they could only see themselves’ she thought. 

But even then it was too late for them, she knew it. 

“Fuckers killed my family, my cat, my friends.....” she muttered to herself flicking on the gas line. She dumbed a bit of gasoline trailing around the house to the front. A orange glow emitted again from the ramshackle setting, then went to the ground. A short ignition of fire trailed around the house to the valve of the main line. Within seconds a deep boom sounded, then an explosion traveled through the pipes and out every orifice of the house. Billy flew out the second story window, still erect, and completely on fire. his wails echoed the previous symphony now burning in the phonograph in his room. His old speakers popped their last sounds as the fire melted through the speaker cones.

In his last seconds of consciousness, he heard someone screaming. One of the girls he was with was outside, presumably thrown out as well, he could vaguely make out the image of an Old lady standing above her. 

The Old lady held a shotgun at her.

The girl started to cry,

“I didn’t do nothing, he was a nigger! He tried to rob our house. What do you want. He came in the middle of the night. Why are you trying to kills us!” she yelled

“I’m just trying to help you, little darling” the old lady said, not drawing the shotgun down.

“You better hope Billy don’t get back up” she said

The old lady then turned the shotgun to the dark bluish corpse, now steaming, and charred. She aimed the shotgun to his head and blew what was left of his brains onto the green grass around.

The girl then stood up, as if not burned or thrown out a second story window and lunged at the old lady. Another shotgun boom echoed.

“I was just trying to defend myself from all of ya’s”, 

she muttered to herself as sirens grew closer.

She gazed around, spat on the ground and awaited the coming police.

The next morning was cold and bitter. You could smell the tinge of smoke throughout the town. The local precinct was busier then ever, still trying to figure out what to do with this old Lady, a shotgun, a blown up house and at least 3-5 corpses.

I remember walking to and from that school that day. No Red truck, no ominous characters following me, almost a pleasant silence. The day had been odd, my first class was 4 seats shorter without Nadeus, Billy, and now two of the prettiest girls who were in class. They were every guy’s eye candy, top cheerleaders who supposedly had a bad habit with guys. Those types always thought they were too good for me and Nadeus(especially because they came from rich White families)but we never wished anything on them for it, they were good company when they wanted to be. The administration made an announcement to the student body about it, “4 students were found dead in complications of a house fire. Any information leading to the arrest of the assailants will be rewarded with care and compensation. 

A moment of silence please”

I went through the work as I usually did, trying not to think too much about the whole thing. I didn’t want to get involved in the investigation either, I didn’t need any more police attention in my life. The day moved in sort of a slow motion. Clocks seemed to roll back every time I looked away, people’s conversations and concerns grew less and less important to me. The whole world was beginning to seem loud. I felt trapped, confused, lost.

I found myself walking that same familiar route home, looking for her to come swooping under a streetlight, or appear from the shadows. But for some reason she wasn’t showing. I even found myself at the old reservoir late at night, puffing away by myself, hoping I’d finally get the chance to talk to her; to see who she really was. It wasn’t until late the next week that something finally came. Late at night I was awoken by something shaking me. I shot out of bed immediately, and looked at the clock, it read around 4:34 in the morning. I refocused ahead of me and saw a dark shadow at the foot of my bed. It seemed to focus in through a smoke-like haze. The girl appeared from the haze. She climbed over my bed’s footboard, and crawled up to me. Feeling like I was in a dream, I wasn’t avert to any of this, in all honesty I wasn’t sure if it was actually happening or not. I couldn’t seem to resist her pull. She slipped under the covers and started controlling me in ways I never knew I could be. I put myself into her, at that time a virgin, she seemed to be experienced, not like me. I could feel a warmth within her, a glow, something I had never really experienced before. It wasn’t quite like love and it wasn’t quite like a drug, it was something different. Something about her seemed like a gate way to another universe. Maybe she’s a dream, maybe she’s a ghost, all I know is I now wakeup within and without her. I’ve never really known her, the familiarity is what haunts me. She leaves little messages and slips on the nights she comes to remind she was really there, only things I’d notice. 

This went on for about a week. Until one day she came with a glum look in her face. She sat at the foot of my bed, not speaking much, that dark shadow growing around her. This particular morning she hardly woke me up, I just found her there as soon as my vision cleared from a dream-like haze. She waved at me, and oddly enough I could feel her controlling me, I couldn’t move a muscle. I tried to talk but the words wouldn’t come out, they seemed trapped under some sort of immense pressure. She leaned in toward me, completely paralyzed and told me, “good bye, I might never see you again”. She then gave me a kiss, and slipped out the window, when she disappeared completely, the pull broke and I could move again. As I wondered if she was ever actually there, I found myself also concerned about how she had that much power over me. Could she read my thoughts as well? I never had any bad thoughts about her, but the point intrigued me, just how she always showed when I thought she would without a word spoken. I felt like I had always known her, but I couldn’t tell how old she was, or who she was really. I remember going to the bathroom soon after she left, as I walked in I flipped the old brass switch and the lights illuminated a bit of red on my hands and lips, I wiped it off, figuring she must of been wearing red lip stick. When I returned to my room, I went to flick my nightlight off, that’s when I saw a parked car outside. The light was on and I could vaguely make out the face of the officer brother of Billy. Was he watching my house? As soon as I thought it, the light in his car went out and he pulled away in silence. It gave me the creeps. His family was full of the worst kind of racists you could ever meet. They probably have trophies of people in their house, freaks. After seeing him, my night was restless, I saw images of him coming the next morning, telling my parents he was going to take me out for a ride, soon enough these thoughts turned into dreams, and I was reliving the Emmet Till lesson my history teacher gave me that day. Dreams are funny like that, they are seemingly simple thoughts which envelope into a reality that is only as real you make it, kind of reminiscent of this funny thing we call life.

Soon enough, she stopped coming, just like she said. The nights went without a hiccup, my dreams soothing me through the slew of days. This all lasted until one night I was awakened by blaring music.I looked out my window to see Billy’s brother sitting there. All of a sudden, he got out of his car, and started walking toward the front yard to my window. I could see he was holding something. Within seconds, that something was lobbed from below It slammed through the window and nailed my skull. Bits of skull fragments flew about the glass flying through the air. Blood cascaded about. And for a second, I was dead; the red of brick touching my soft brain, falling back onto the wooden floor.

“You aren’t here Dwayne”, a booming voice said.

I awoke on my floor. Ma and Pa were were trying to knock my door open.

“Dwayne, honey are you alright, what was that?”

My mom yelled from outside my room. 

My focus faded in and I could see the ceiling fan spinning above. 

I went to touch my head, and as I pulled my hand away, no blood.

I stood up and looked in my desk mirror. I looked just fine.

The door cracked in and they came right in. 

“Your window..... Dwayne, what did those bullies do?”

she said.

“I don’t know, I woke up to the sound of crashing glass”

That of course being a lie, I could still feel an odd throbbing in my head, every so often I sifted back around for glass or bits of something showing what I had just felt. Nothing was to be found, but somehow I felt different, not like better but, dead, maybe. I’m not sure because as I’m aware I’ve only been alive.

“Paul this is going too far we need to do something about them before this gets any worse.”

my Grandma said, picking up a red brick from the ground. A note was rubber banded to it. it read “Leave our town NIGGERS!” 

my Grandma gasped and threw it to the ground.

“We are reporting this to the police in the morning” she said, shaking her head.

After some short conversation and check-up they shut of my lights and left my room. It was eerily silent after, you could only hear the crickets outside. I found myself checking the window to see if he had come back, after about 10 or so times checking, I saw her there perched outside on the window hang, not really minding the shards of glass around. She held out her hand to me and asked “Do you want me to take you away from here?”.

“Yes”,

I grabbed her, then everything turned black.

I awoke to a comfortably air conditioned room with a popcorn ceiling.

The room smelled of cigarettes subtly.

My mind felt hazy, like I had smoked some bad pot or, got hit really hard.

Slowly my perception faded from a jumble of colors.

“Where was I?”, I thought.

“You are staying in Elvis’s private motel room at Sandalwood in Florida. Well this was his before they found him clogged with shit. The man couldn’t afford laxatives but he could afford this. He made some great music with horrible habits, funny how that works right?”

I could make out an older man sitting at a formica table across from me. His hair was jet black, and done back in a pompadour type style.

I sat there in silence, still trying to fathom what the hell was happening.

“Listen up, I saved you. Being a brother in the time it is, I’m telling you it was only a short amount of time until that brick would be a molotov and you’d lose alot more than yourself. So case in point, I saved you, now you save me. I need you to be my pool boy, if you’ll permit. I’ll help you get by until you have enough to pick yourself up, at that point you check in officially and we were never here. Do you understand me, Dwayne?”

he asked

“Yes”,

I said

“One last thing, I own this fine establishment. You can call me Uncle Tom, and this is you cabin for as long as you need it”.

Days blurred into nights and soon enough I found myself combing the beaches for a nice girl to spend time with. The work was easy, it was just maintaining the pools chlorine levels and making sure all the guests were appeased. I was oddly comfortable with the change, it beats dealing with my grandparents and the nazi’s at school. All I had to do was wake up drift through the warmth til’ the cold of night, the waves crashing all throughout, some might of found it to be empty, but I found what loved doing. It was my bit of nothing that held my everything together. The women were beautiful, even the winters would attract some beautiful types in, the kind of girls that make your heart start all over again. None though compared to the girl who brought me here. I wondered about where she might be, if she was flying far above, or beneath the waves below. The answers seldom presented themselves, only in odd creatures I would see in the water and anomalies in the sky. She was the first real love I ever had, and I knew someday I would find her, when I was ready.

As I aged, Uncle Tom did too, and he started to lose interest in the hotel business. He put it up for sale, and I decided to pool together money I had saved over the years to buy the place. Even after I acquired the grounds, I still stayed in Elvis’s old room. It had a nice warmth and comfort to it. I could see why he spent so much time here. It was truly a fortress of solitude.

I still found myself tending to the pool late at night, even when I didn’t have to. Luckily it closed at sundown, so unless we had drunks I was usually alone.

It was mainly silent, I picked a hair from my head, I could see it was beginning to gray.

Time was not being kind to me, and I was beginning to grow worried of what might come besides the next morning.

The pool was oddly cool, but all the levels were alright. I was nearing the deep end when something pulled me at my left leg. I turned around and nothing was there. Within seconds I was in the water, full sprawl. still in my clothes. I opened my eyes to see her in front of me, 

“I need you” she said. 

She then pulled me under the water, and put her mouth to mine.

Gravity and oxygen seemed to cease existing momentarily as we twirled below the bottom of the pool. 

She ripped off my clothes, and made at me like she never did before.

The rest of the night was a slew of sex and debauchery, 

I awoke the next morning with a sharp pain in the left of my neck.

The sun dotted her like a jewel, bending over in the bathroom.

I walked over to her, and I could see a man in front of her lifeless. She prepared him on the toilet. As I got closer I could make him out as the guy who whipped the brick at me.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“This is the end of your deal. I’m not like you, but you are now like me. I could never be with you because of a disease. It was put on you as much as it was me. This disease kept me alive through druggings, should-be murders, you name it. I’ve been an actress for 100 years but I’ve always been the same age. From Black and White to Technicolor my face is there, but the name changes. You won’t understand now, but someday you might see the gold in your veins and you will thank me. Maybe you’ll give me a room. Elvis Did”

Dwayne then walked over to her, and gave her a hug.

He kissed her and said

“You’re always welcome at Sandalwood. I’ve missed you”