#aside from her roommate whom she is very very close to but is straight

[supergraphicultramoderngirl]

i want to speak into the void so bad rn

[delaber]

Just Friends (Part 3)

Story Summary: After moving to America for a 3-month long internship, you meet two interesting characters on a boring night out.

Word Count: 2.2K

Pairing: Rafael Casal x Reader

Warnings: Alcohol, minor drug use, smut, slight dom!Rafa, swearing, and loads of British references (sorry not sorry lol).

Chapter Note: let me know what you think

Tag List:  lonelydance mysearchforgratification

Other Parts: See Masterlist

FIVE WEEKS LATER

With the amount of work you had had in the lab in December, five weeks passed by easily, and before you could truly process what had become of time, you had spent your first Christmas ever away from England.

Still, even though five weeks had passed by, you caught yourself thinking about this guy, this Rafa, annoyingly often. 

You couldn't believe that you had fallen for (what you assumed were) his regular normie cad tricks: He had talked you up, walked you home, made you feel special, and then he hadn't given you any sign of life since then - and now the complete lack of contact was driving you insane! You knew that he was only interested in the shag, and so were you to be honest, but it still annoyed you immensely that the mere thought of him roughing you up had taken over most of your thoughts.

As if Rafa was a professional womaniser, it had only taken him a couple of hours and an obnoxious fuck boy-attitude to etch himself into your brain. And five weeks later, he was still on your mind?! What was going on with you? If you'd only invited him inside to boff back then, he probably wouldn't even have been the least bit interesting here five weeks later.

Thus, irritated with yourself and your flair for the dramatic, you often cursed yourself for having left him on the pavement that night back in November. On the night in question, however, the need to stand up to his spoiled attitude had been stronger than the urge to let him win and shag him senseless - and as a result, you often found yourself fantasising about him when you lay in bed at night. So in a way, he had won anyway.

And you hated it. You hated that he had somehow gotten to you. The way he had acted around you had made you aware that this boy was an avid smooth talker who was probably used to get whatever and whomever he wanted by any means necessary.

And you were having none of it. Forgetting about him was definitely for the best. You needed someone to knock the naughty thoughts of him out of your mind. By any means necessary.

You had never really cared much for New Years Eve, but this year, you found yourself in the right spirit for the first time ever. You had changed into the most form-fitting, festive dress you owned in the hopes of meeting a cute guy with whom you could spend the night. A guy who could knock the last thoughts of Rafa out of your head.

In the mood for an eventful evening, you had showed up for Miranda's all-girls pre-party right on time, tagging your roommate Samantha along with you. The first part of the evening passed by quickly; you had loads of champagne and ate a fancy dinner at Miranda's place surrounded by all of her best friends and some of your colleagues from the Hospital. You had all clinked to the new year as the date shifted to January 1st and you soon found yourself in a taxi on the way to an exclusive party downtown that Miranda's friend had secured you all tickets for. Big, fancy parties like this wasn't normally your scene, but you could make an exception for tonight. It was New Years, after all.

You had arrived at the club, had had a few drinks at your private table, and had even talked to some pretty cute guys, but for some reason they all bored you. At one point you found yourself cornered by a handsome - but particularly boring - gentleman when Samatha finally saved you.

"I just flirted my way to a bottle of champagne!" she squealed as she came running towards you with a magnum flask in hand.

"You did what?" you laughed at your bubbly roomie, the bore of a man by your side already forgotten.

"I just asked a random guy at the bar if he wanted to buy a table of pretty girls a drink - and the patsy did," she laughed, "not in my wildest imagination had I ever expected him actually to do it," she squealed as she twisted off the cork with a loud pop.

"So you just let the poor guy pay for it and then you ran away?" you laughed at her while holding out your glass, waiting for her to fill it.

"I reckon he did it to make me go away - I think he may have found me annoying," Samantha laughed, "He told me to take the bottle back to my friends' table and clink his glass from a distance. Look, it's him over there," she raised her glass to a guy that you recognised immediately; you would've recognised those fluffy black curls anywhere.

Rafa's friend Diggs.

When he noticed you looking at him, he too raised his glass and sent you a warm smile, silently telling you that he definitely recognised you too.

"Hey; I know that guy," you said slowly, "I met him when I'd just moved here."

"You know him?" Samantha stared at you with a sly smile, "Probably why he was so eager for me to bring the champagne back to the table instead of drinking it at the bar with him. How well do you know him if you don't mind my asking?" Samantha wriggled her eyebrows.

"Not like that," you laughed, "I only talked to him for a couple of minutes."

Samantha nudged you with her elbow, "you should go thank him."

"Yeah," you hesitated, turning away from him, "I'm honestly surprised he even recognises me."

"Well, you must've made quite the impression," Samantha was still looking at him from over your shoulder, "Oh shit, he's coming over here right now," she squealed in a whisper.

"Be cool!" you laughed before turning around, suddenly face to face with Diggs.

"Happy new year," he smiled and squinted his eyes slightly, "I think we've met before."

You nodded, reciprocating his wide smile, "we have. You're Rafa's friend," the words escaped your mouth before you could stop them.

He nodded, "...and you're Rafa's girl."

You could feel your cheeks getting warm now, "I've had like an hour long conversation with him. I would hardly refer to myself as his girl," you squinted your eyes at the handsome man in front of you.

He shrugged and laughed, "you know what I mean."

You cleared your throat, "well thanks for the champagne. You really didn't have to."

"I wanted to," he smiled, "I was hoping to catch your attention."

"Why? We've exchanged about ten words..."

"Yeah, but I'm sure Rafa would love to see you again."

"He's here?" your eyes widened. The mere thought of meeting Rafa again tonight was making your heart beat faster. You reminded yourself that you needed to keep your cool. He may be handsome and charming but he was also loud and obnoxious and a sleaze.

"We have a table in the back," Diggs nodded and pointed to an area that was cordoned off with red rope, "you should come with me."

"I don't think so," you managed to say with as much clarity as you could muster. You needed someone to help you get rid of Rafa - not indulge further in him. He was dangerous.

"Aw, come on," Diggs smiled charmingly.

"What makes you think he even wants to see me?" You tried, "as I said; I've had an hour-long conversation with him over a month ago."

"Trust me," he smiled convincingly, "I know my best friend. Are you coming or what?"

You weren't exactly sure whether it was a good idea or not. You were quite sure that if Rafa was acting just half as charming as last time, you'd be throwing yourself at him at the first chance you got and you were scared that his bad boy demeanour might lead to you wanting more even though you were going home in a couple of weeks. ..But then again, you were on the prowl for someone who could knock Rafa out of your head. Maybe actually being with him would be enough to finally close that chapter.

"Oh, she's coming!" Samantha said loudly while giving your back a small shove.

"Great!" Diggs shot you a blinding smile and stretched out his hand for you to take.

"Uhm, okay..." you said, actually glad that Samantha had made a decision for you.

As Diggs pulled you towards him, you looked back at Samantha who was looking at you with huge eyes and moving her lips without any sound, "who's Rafa?" she mouthed.

"I'll tell you later, okay?" you whispered to your friend.

Samantha tilted her head and whispered back, "well, if all of his friends are just as handsome as that guy," she nodded towards Diggs, "you're coming back for me!"

You laughed at her, "of course. I'll see you later," you said before taking Diggs' hand, following him straight through the club's dance floor and towards the closed off area.

When he reached the bouncer, he pulled up his sleeve and showed him a stamp on his wrist. "She's with me," he nodded towards you and the bouncer stepped aside, letting both of you enter the scene behind the red rope.

"Is this some sort of VIP area?" you asked Diggs as you took in the room that had been closed off to the rest of the party. The tables back here looked far more fancy and were lined with much more expensive booze than what had been available where you had been sitting only moments before.

Diggs looked at you with a weird expression, "Uh yeah..."

"It looks very expensive."

"Yeah, well..." he looked a bit uncomfortable, "we  - uh - we have a good friend who's a bit over the top with these things, but we just roll with it."

He sounded weird. Almost as if he was lying. You quickly shrugged it off, however, telling yourself that of course he was being honest; it would've been a weird thing to lie about. "Must be a good friend for you to spend this amount of money on his comfort," you mumbled as you watched a girl open up a bottle of ridiculously expensive vodka.

"Yes, well... come on," Diggs said and urged you to follow him.

You scanned the room as you tagged along Diggs, noticing several low-key famous people that you were sure were known for something semi-popular but that you couldn't quite place your finger on. You'd never really been the type to care for fame. Still, you turned to Diggs and asked, "hold up; are you famous or something?"

Diggs sent you a shrug, "...or something," he said mysteriously and pointed to a table in the far back, "our table is over there."

Slowly, you turned your gaze away from him with a feeling that you were definitely missing out on something. You followed the direction that he was pointing in and found a table lined with people. You quickly scanned their faces, eyes landing on Rafa almost immediately.

Just as you had expected, he was laughing obnoxiously loud, his Adam's apple bouncing up and down in his throat in time with his vociforous outbursts of laughter. He was wearing a dark suit and he had his blonde hair slightly slicked back, making him look particularly dark and handsome. It was pure sex.

Okay, you definitely needed to keep your cool.

He was chatting up a very attractive girl who was twirling her black hair between her fingers and smiling suggestively at him. His signature charming smile was in place as he leaned closer to her and whispered something in her ear. Whatever he was saying was definitely working as she kept touching his arm and batting her eyelashes seductively. He seemed to enjoy the attention, scooting closer and closer to the beautiful woman with each passing sentence. The sight of it made your stomach drop slightly.

You contemplated turning around and go back to Samantha before Rafa had had the chance to see you. Clearly, he was busy. You told yourself that you didn't want to be the reason why he was striking out with this girl who he was clearly trying to charm the knickers off - when in reality, you were angry with yourself; It was stupid of you to think that he actually wanted to see you when he hadn't stopped by since that night five weeks ago.

You took a step backwards to go back to Samantha but immediately felt Diggs standing behind you like a concrete wall. His palm came into contact with your back as he gave you a light shove between your shoulder blades, pushing you towards the table. "Hey Rafa!" he called out, "look who I found!"

[hqquinn]

Is that (seo jisoo)?! Oh, no, it’s just (quinn hwang, 26, she/her), the (sales) from Dunder Mifflin. I heard they’re (outgoing, gregarious, hard working) but can also be (stubborn, hardheaded, selfish). They’re (single) and have been working there for (one year) and post a lot @(quinnofsales). || UPDATED !! ( 02/16/21 )

hi there iss me, mel here with my precious babie quinn. let’s see what i can come up with for her intro. 

born to hwang shownu and hwang naeun as hwang hyewon in seoul south korea, with a family of eight and the oldest of five siblings, she was raised to a very close-nit family. when their father landed a job in the states, they had moved to california when it was just her and her younger sister at the time, a sweet family of four. hyewon was just five years old when her family had moved out to california. living in the states and before hyewon started kindergarten, her father decided to give his kids english names therefore going from hwang hyewon to quinn hwang. he had also hired an english tutor to help his kids learn and understand english more. it was then where quinn had became fluent in english, but still stayed close to her korean roots. 

before she knew it, their small family of four grew from four to five then six, then seven and recently to eight. quinn is now an older sibling to four younger sisters. one that was a year younger than her, another about seven years, followed by her next sister of eight years and last but not least her youngest sister of twenty-four years. although their newest sister was definitely a surprise seeing as her parents were surprised she was able to get pregnant after their last daughter. quinn doesn’t mind, she loves her sisters dearly and will continue to love and care for them. 

growing up the hwang family had adjusted to their new american lifetyle but her sisters having been born in america while quinn and her second sister were born in south korea. which took them a bit to understand and learn english. aside from the tutor, quinn had also started taking english classes to help her understand more. it didn’t take her younger sisters long to learn english, so it was nice for them to grow up in america. 

living in california, it didn’t take her long to make friends. it was also a coincidence that she had found some korean friends of her own that lived not to far from where she was. although she had met them at a young age which made it easy for her to grow up with them and form a close bond with them. they were inseparable and stayed together throughout elementary, middle and high school. it wasn’t until quinn had gotten accepted to nyu where they had to part ways, but still made their friendship work and did their best to keep in touch. 

𝖰𝖴𝖨𝖭𝖭 𝖳𝖧𝖱𝖮𝖴𝖦𝖧𝖮𝖴𝖳 𝖧𝖨𝖦𝖧 𝖲𝖢𝖧𝖮𝖮𝖫 ( the rundown ) 

freshmen year - 

she and her same age best friend had tried out for the volleyball team together. of course they made it and were apart of c-squad throughout the entire year. 

took a liking to art which she had taken an art class causing her to enjoy it, in which caused her to practiced her drawing skills that have improved throughout the years. 

straight a student since elementary school landing her to be a candidate for  national honor society. you wouldn’t call her a nerd, she just knew the balance between school, volleyball and friends. 

participated in being a few of her teachers student assistants towards the end of her freshmen year. 

sophomore year - 

worked so hard in volleyball in hopes she would at least make it to jr varsity. sadly she and her best friend were stuck in c squad. she didn’t mind, that only meant she had to work harder to prove she was good enough to be apart of jv. 

continued taking art classes, but soon took up in interest in singing and playing instruments. causing her to take band and choir seeing as she wanted to improve her singing and learn how to play the guitar and piano and maybe a few instruments along the way. still very close with her seven best friends while they support her in everything she does. 

maintains her 4.0 gpa and continues to strive to work harder and to graduate with honors. doesn’t want to disappoint her family, most of all her younger sisters. 

junior year - 

after all her hard work, she figured she would move up to jv for volleyball. with the captains of the volleyball team seeing how hard she had worked, she went from c-squad to varsity right away along side her best friend. at first she was shocked because she herself didn’t believe she deserved to be on varsity but continued her hard work in which she proved and showed herself that she does deserve that spot. 

while working hard in basically everything during her junior year, she may have taken on more than she could chew. the stress was weighing on her, but she was doing her best not to give up and to keep pushing towards success. 

not only was school and volleyball weighing on her, she felt it was time for her to get a job. you’d think she’d slow down, but quinn is someone that wants always keep herself busy and to be on the go. this is where quinn had landed her first job working at the movie theater. she had worked in the back stocking things that needed to be stocked, along with being apart of cleaning crew. 

this year was where quinn found herself always busy but still doing her best to make time for her friends and volleyball. not to mention school. she couldn’t slack off, not now seeing as senior year was right around the corner. 

senior year - 

the year that meant so much to her and her best friend. of course her six other best friends were a few grades behind them so they didn’t have to worry about graduating just yet. quinn needed to graduate, although she knows she won’t be the valedictorian which she doesn’t mind. that was one thing quinn wasn’t a fan of, making speeches. the whole thing just brought her nerves out and if she had to make a big speech to her graduating class, she is pretty sure she’d faint in front of everyone. 

working harder than ever, she went from working at the movie theater full time to part time. only because she wanted to focus on graduating and to make sure she passed all her exams and finals that were coming up. 

volleyball was still going really well for her and had earned herself a letterman jacket during her junior year which she now wears proudly. 

finally, she graduated, graduated beside one of her best friends and thankful that their high school career was over. the hardest part about it? saying goodbye once august rolled around for college. 

𝖰𝖴𝖨𝖭𝖭 𝖳𝖧𝖱𝖮𝖴𝖦𝖧𝖮𝖴𝖳 𝖢𝖮𝖫𝖫𝖤𝖦𝖤 ( the rundown )

a new life for quinn was just beginning. a fresh of breath air and a new setting for her. something she had to get used to. she couldn’t slack off and wanted to make sure she could carry her high gpa that she did in high school to college. 

being in new york was new for her. she was now living in a dorm at nyu and met her roommate whom she gets along really well with. at first quinn wasn’t sure what she wanted to major in so she had just taken a few general classes needed to at least graduate under general studies for now. 

she thought about majoring in art, but just decided to take that as a minor and not a major. it took quinn majority of her first semester at nyu to figure out what she wanted to do. instead she took up a few business classes since she wanted to explore something new. 

and just like that, her college career was now over and she wasn’t exactly sure where to go from there. she had gone home for a few months to talk to her family and visit with her friends to ask for their opinions as to what she should do. out of nowhere she found herself in scranton pennsylvania and before she knew it, she landed a job at dunder mifflin paper company as a temp in the beginning then soon worked her way to sales. 

𝖤𝖷𝖳𝖱𝖠 𝖨𝖭𝖥𝖮 𝖠𝖡𝖮𝖴𝖳 𝖰𝖴𝖨𝖭𝖭

friendly and outgoing once you get to know her. 

dislikes the color mustard yellow because of how it looks, just displeasing to her eyes. 

has two dogs named rocket and space. 

hates the sound of wind chimes because she doesn’t like how it sounds and it just makes her think of scary movies for some reason. 

her sisters are her forever best friends outside of her friendgroup.

she spent so much time with her best friends aka her friend group that you’ll probably hear her talking about them from time to time.

favorite thing to drink are those ice drinks ( pineapple coconut ) to be exact. 

[gray-anxiety]

No Sympathy → Levi Ackerman Chapter 3 → Roommates

Read the rest of the chapters here!

           ‘God fucking damn it.’ Levi clicked his tongue and ran faster — he had to get the fuck away from his apartment; though, they already knew where it was knowing his absolute shitty luck. Levi turned corners upon corners until he wound up in some of the nicer apartment blocks; Levi sighed and knew he was going to have to break into some poor jackass’s apartment to hide — the men were so close to the point where Levi could hear their shouts towards one another. Levi turned his head to the left, greeting him was a door to a ground level apartment just waiting to be pick-locked. Levi wasted no time pick-locking the door open with the tools he always carries on him and shut the door as soon as he slipped in. The apartment was pitch black, showing no sign of human activity in the last hour — Levi got lucky. Levi stepped back from the door and just stood there, catching his breath — eventually just dropping the still intact plastic bag. Levi’s luck was about to run out, though as the doorknob he had just pick-locked not even five minutes ago started jiggling; signaling that there was a key being put in to unlock it. The door opened with a squeak and the light from outside poured in — revealing a figure carrying three bags. The figure sighed and dropped the bags right next to the couch by the door and turned around to close the door. When Levi knew the door was for sure closed, he crept up to the figure and covered their mouth with his hand, the other holding the top of their head still. The person, whom Levi made out to be a female, tried screaming and talking but the sounds only came out muffled thanks to Levi’s hand. Levi sighed and kept the squirming girl in place.

          “Listen, I’m not going to fucking hurt you, I just need you to stay quiet, alright?” Levi could feel the girl nod and had a gut feeling she wouldn’t do anything stupid, so he let her go. Levi felt around the wall for a light, eventually finding it on the left side by the front door he had just pick-locked. When the lights flickered on Levi turned around and ran his hand through his now semi-messy ebony hair, looking up to greet the same girl he saw look frantic in the library at school today. Her eyes shown annoyance and her body language represented the same feeling by posing in a matter with her arms crossed while her foot tapped impatiently. Levi knew the girl would want answers, so he had to pull them out of his ass — fast.

          “I’m in a gang, alright? An immensely deadly gang with countless enemies and those men out there loitering just so happens to be one of them.” Levi cursed silently and sauntered over to the couch and looked out the covered window through one blind, seeing the men circle around the place for who knows how many times. How joyous. Levi played out scenarios in his head on what would happen if he just waited it out — it wasn’t great.

          ‘Damn it.’ Levi knew he was going to have to dirty his hands once more, but that never bothered him any longer. What really bothered him was the fact that he was putting his cover on the line if he went out there to kill them all; his hands were tied — he had to kill them. Levi turned his gaze over to the girl and shook his head; he couldn’t put her in any more danger by just staying and not killing them. Levi flipped out a blade from underneath his arm cuff and started to walk towards the door.

         “Correction, they were one of them. Stay inside.” Levi knew the girl immediately took the hint that he was planning on killing them, but only nodded her head — she knew why he had to kill them too.

         “Don’t you fucking dare get blood on my walls with a damned security camera on” was the only verbal acknowledgment Levi received from the girl. Levi opened the door and stepped out; turning his head to find the mobsters all standing in a circle to his right — successfully blocking the entire damn alleyway off. Levi gripped his blade and rubbed his thumb over the handle, just waiting for the perfect moment; Levi closed his eyes and inhaled before opening his eyes and started to run his fastest without making a sound. Levi had a feeling of knowing what to do in that exact moment and without thinking, started to cut open each mobster by going for the weakest points available to him; the jugular, the eye, the heart, and so many more. Levi channeled all of his momentum into his singular blade to stab the first mobster in the back straight through the heart, but Levi didn’t stop there — Levi spun around and threw two knives into the neck of the mobster next to his previous victim. Bolting towards the man’s impaled neck, Levi jumped off the wall — pulling out both blades to slice the bottom of the third man’s neck, causing his severed tongue to hang out of the recently inflicted gash. Levi was out of time for his cover of surprise; the remaining four mobsters charged at Levi full speed, but the first two failed to realize Levi was already anticipating them until one of them ended up on the ground with a crushed windpipe (courtesy of Levi’s foot) while the other was roundhouse kicked into the nearest wall — successfully breaking some his ribs at the very least. When the final two finally took swings at Levi, he brought out his bloody blades once more and finished them off by stabbing them in the chest. Levi removed the two blades from each corpse when the men collapsed to the ground from blood loss and made his way to the man he roundhouse kicked. Levi may have broken a few ribs, but it wasn’t enough to kill the man. The man moaned in agony and slowly turned his head upwards to greet Levi’s emotionless face.

         “Please, I beg of you, don’t kill me... I’ll leave-“ the man never got to finish his pleas as Levi slit his throat the moment the words started to tumble out. Levi stood up and looked around; blood was everywhere and even on Levi himself. Levi mentally punched himself for being so filthy and before walking back to the girl’s apartment, Levi took out his burn phone and called Farlan, knowing that this mess needed to be cleaned and footage erased before word gets out. The phone rang three times before Farlan picked up.

          “Hello?” Farlan knew it was Levi calling, but out of caution acted like he didn’t know the number.

          “It’s me. There’s now a bloody alleyway on south Titan Street that needs to be scrubbed clean ASAP. There’s also footage that needs to be wiped.” Levi turned his head back towards the mess and frowned in disgust.

          “How many gone?” Farlan held his breath and hoped the fatalities weren’t as bad as last time Levi took on mobsters alone.

          “Seven.” Levi could practically see Farlan’s facepalm already.

          “Christ, Blade. All with blades?”

           “Either blades or hand to hand.”

          “I assume your apartment was compromised?”

          “Lasted two days. I’m impressed. Yes, I already have another location in mind, just clean up this damn mess.”

           “Was already tasking people to go out now, thanks.” Farlan replied sarcastically

           Levi hung up the phone and slipped in to find her sitting on her couch playing on her phone, when the girl looked over she was unfazed by the amount of blood covering Levi or the multiple bloodied knives he had in his hand. Levi raised a brow at how calm she was considering the fact that he had just brutally murdered seven men in the alley by her house.

           “They struggle much?” Was all she asked before turning her gaze back to her phone. Levi’s eyebrow somehow raised even higher after her question. How was this normal girl acting so unfazed at something like this? Levi continued to stare at her for a few more seconds silently questioning her sanity.

           “They tried to, at least.” Levi clicked his tongue and knew he was fucked if he even thought about residing in his apartment any longer. He sighed and threw caution to the wind; he needed a damn place to stay and the only person that wouldn’t freak out about his predicament is the girl sitting on the couch whose name is a complete mystery.

            “Look, I need a place to stay now that my shitty place has obviously been busted. Do me a favor, won’t ya?” The girl looked up and gave him a death glare.

            “First of all, you broke into my house, then killed seven guys out back, is supposedly a part of a deadly gang, and on top of it all, you don’t even know my name, which by the way is Aella. Just because you’re the new ‘hot and mysterious’ dude in school doesn’t mean that this is a fan fiction where I’m the dumbass that falls for you! Levi, it’s real life! I can’t even afford living on my own, so how in the hell would I be able to support not only me but you too?” Aella snarked. Levi had a feeling that she was going to be difficult to convince — in hindsight, he was right.

             “That’s why I’m kicking your dumbass out.” Aella dropped her phone when those words tumbled out of Levi’s mouth.

             “Excuse me, bitch what?” Levi nodded his head in confirmation and sat on the couch, crossed his legs, and started playing with one of the many sharp knives he had in between his long fingers.

           “Either that, or you suck it the fuck up and let me be your roommate.” Aella started right back with an equally emotionless gaze; Levi knew she was weighing every single pro and con in her mind.

            “Help pay the damn bills and you’re in.”

          “Don’t be stupid, I might be in hiding, but I’m not broke. I’ll do my fair share — starting with your disgusting apartment. Do you even fucking clean?” Aella rolled her eyes. Turns out Levi is a fucking clean freak and a murderer. Amazing. Though, it couldn’t be all that bad aside from the fact that Aella will always have to be careful about living with a murderer, she’ll be living with a fucking trained killer; bonus protection points, right? Aella then realized that she’d have to give up her art room for Levi to sleep in — shit.

“Levi, you can sleep in my... art room... I suppose.” Levi looked at Aella

            “I assume the only reason why you’re offering me that room is because you have no others?” Bingo, mister. How’d you guess?

            “Mhm. But, I can work in there whenever I want to.”

           “Fine by me. I need to get my stuff from my shitty apartment. I’ll be back before 10.” Levi stood up and walked out of the apartment — turning his head, Levi saw the once bloodied alley was now sparkling clean.

           “Damn, Farlan.” Aella practically pulled out all of her hair right then and there. She let a damn gangster room with her! Though, this did give her the perfect opportunity to get to know Levi, so it could technically be considered a win, right? Aella, in the course of a literal hour, gained a fucking roommate that just so happened to be the most popular guy in all of Karanese High and a gangster... not to mention that Levi was considerably attractive.

         “Fuck it, why the hell not?” What could go wrong? When Levi returned, he immediately went into his room and locked himself in. Since the bathroom was connected to both Aella and Levi’s rooms they just simply had to open the second door in their respective rooms and there was the bathroom. Aella already knew that Levi was absolutely disgusted by being covered in now dry blood and wanted that shit off as soon as possible. Aella walked into her room, knocked on the bathroom door wishing Levi a good night and went to bed. This was shaping up to be a very eventful senior year.

[libraryscarf]

Payback

“Come on. There has to be one person here you wouldn’t mind hanging out with.” Hiyori found herself scanning the milling people for someone tall, with unkempt dark hair, or for anyone in gym clothes, but no one stood out. She told herself the vicious knot in her gut was from excitement, or nerves, or even the quick-acting alcohol in the punch. But it was definitely not disappointment. Definitely, definitely not.

(content warnings for this chapter: sexual harassment; attempted sexual assault)

Chapter 5: The Party ( ao3 / ff.net )

Hiyori, lured from her studies into the living room by the sound of precariously clinking glassware, found Ami removing her collection of comically undersized, decorative vases from the mantelpiece. She was gently folding them in bubble wrap and storing them in boxes filled to the brim with packing peanuts.

“Are you moving out?” was Hiyori’s immediate, panicked question. Ami gave her a look of gentle disappointment.

“Of course not, moron. I’m just protecting my valuables from—” she waved in the general direction of the kitchen, where Yama’s voice wafted to them as she talked rapidly on the phone. “—That.”

Hiyori listened, apprehensive. After a few seconds of eavesdropping, she realized Yama was on the phone with her boyfriend, Abe. She was delivering a volley of instructions to him:

“—so make sure to bring all your frat bros or homies or whatever you call yourselves, because this has to get wild—”

Hiyori looked back at Ami, her eyes round with fear.

“What…what is she talking about?”

Ami shrugged, returning to her vases. “A party, sounds like.”

“When?”

“Dunno. Soon.”

“But why?”

Ami gave her another slightly motherly look of disapproval, and Hiyori immediately experienced the horrifying sensation of having digested her own lungs.

“Me?!”

Ami turned back to the vases and packing peanuts. “You can’t have a birthday and not expect Yama to do something expensive and ridiculous.”

Hiyori groaned, pressing both index fingers against her temples. “But my mom already did something expensive and ridiculous for my birthday. I don’t need this. I don’t want this. I hate this.”

Ami placed the last vase in the box and sealed it shut with an efficient flick of the tape dispenser.

“It might not be so bad,” she said demurely.

“It’s a party,” Hiyori hissed. “A Yama party.”

At that moment, Yama bounced into the room, radiant with energy and the prospect of dozens of overboozed, sweaty coeds descending on their living space within forty-eight hours.

“I heard my name?”

“Hiyori was just telling me how excited she is about the party you’re planning.”

Ami’s betrayal cut deep, but she seemed oblivious to the pained glance Hiyori gave her.

Yama barreled full steam ahead. “One of Abe’s friends is trying to make it as a DJ, so he’s bringing everything he needs to set up tomorrow morning—”

“Tomorrow?!” Hiyori screeched.

“Relax, girl, you don’t have to worry about a thing. Just…maybe lock your bedroom door before things get started. You don’t want to find anything—anyone—uh…unexpected, in there.”

Ami grimaced in distaste. Hiyori didn’t know whether to sit down on the floor and curl up in the fetal position, or run to her bedroom and dive under the covers to hide, shivering, until this ordeal passed.

“How many people?” she whispered, frightened to hear what the answer might be.

Yama began ticking off on her fingers: “It depends on how many of the frat guys actually show up…plus the volleyball team…plus the track team…and Abe said some guys from UOT were interested…”

At this point Hiyori did, in fact, sink to the floor. Her bangs stuck to her clammy forehead. She felt slightly sick. Yama stopped talking and crouched beside her, eyebrows knitting in concern.

“You okay?”

Hiyori peered at her accusingly from under her sweaty hair.

“You invited four hundred people over for my birthday.”

Yama shook her head quickly, her ponytail snapping against her cheeks.

“No, no. Seventy-five, max. Not everyone’s gonna show up, you know.”

Hiyori dragged both hands down her face, pulling her cheeks tight against the bones underneath.

“But whyyy?” she whined. “You know my family throws a fancy dinner for my birthday every year. And you know how much I hate those. Why would you add another layer to what is already a hellish experience for me?”

Yama poked Hiyori’s gaunt cheeks playfully.

“Because a fancy dinner party is nothing like a college party. You need to cut loose, Hiyo. Have fun. Stick your tongue down a stranger’s throat. Dance on a table. Barf on someone’s shoes.”

Hiyori gave a shudder, slapping Yama’s hands away from her face. “No. No thank you.”

Yama straightened up and fixed her ponytail. Just like that, she was all business.

“Well, too late now. The plan is in motion. So prepare yourself for some serious fun, whether you like it or not.”

Hiyori, desperate for an out, looked to her other friend for support. But instead of providing assistance, Ami said:

“Hey, you should invite that guy you’ve been seeing. What’s-his-pizza-name.”

Hiyori’s neck gave a sharp, fatal-sounding snap as she jerked upright.

“Yato,” she said in quiet terror.

Yama inhaled quickly. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “I knew I was forgetting someone! Hiyori, do you want to invite him yourself, or should I leave a note on their mailbox or…?”

She trailed off. Hiyori had scrambled to her feet and was already fleeing to the front door. “I’ll handle it!” she shouted.

The door slammed behind her, and the house shivered. After a beat of silence, her two friends exchanged a lengthy, meaningful glance.

Ami held her hand out, palm-up. Yama, with a sigh of regret, fished twenty dollars out of her pocket and slapped it into Ami’s outstretched palm.

: : :

“You’re going, right?”

Yato upended an almost-empty bag of Doritos into his open mouth, pouring the residual crumbs straight down his throat. He wiped the flecks of chip dust off his lips before answering Yukine.

“Of course I’m going. It’s free food.”

Yukine’s lip curled. “Yeah. I should have figured.”

“You should come,” Yato suggested, tossing the bag aside and falling backwards onto the couch, hands propped behind his head. Yukine sat down next to the coffee table and swept a few escaped Dorito crumbs into his palm.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit irresponsible of you to take your underage roommate to a college party?”

Yato shrugged. “I just thought it might be nice for you to have a life outside of school, studying, and eating my food.”

Yukine bristled at this implication, especially considering the circumstances under which it was uttered. He flung the Dorito crumbs at Yato’s face, which were received with impenetrable nonchalance.

“For your information, asshole, I have plans tomorrow night, which don’t involve your stupid frat party or your stupid fake relationship.”

Yato sat up, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “Plans? With whom?”

Yukine colored. “Nobody important.”

“…A girl?”

“No.”

“A boy?”

The blush ripened on Yukine’s cheeks, spreading nearly up to the tips of his ears.

“It’s none of your business,” he grumbled.

Yato smirked at him for one more second, then collapsed backwards on the couch again.

“Well, have fun. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Yukine hauled himself up from the floor, conspicuously brushing his hands off as he left the room. He didn’t bother with a response. The list of things Yato wouldn’t do, especially when money was involved, was alarmingly short.

Once his roommate left, Yato closed his eyes.

The first image his mind brought to him was, unshockingly, Hiyori.

Yato should have been used to it by now—how her face occupied the inside of his eyelids now more than ever. Whenever she was near him he was distracted by something subtle about her, like the way her hands played with the collar of her shirt when she was talking, or the ribbon-silk strands of hair that escaped from her ponytail and clung to her neck, or the little hiccup that escaped every time she tried to stop herself from laughing. The more time he spent with her: talking to her, thinking about her, feeling her slowly, like perfume, creep into the silences around him, the more he came to understand that this job was—mentally, emotionally, and physically—against his best interests.

Because he was more in love with Hiyori Iki than ever. And it was worse now, because she had become his friend.

“There’s going to be a lot of people there,” she said, her brow furrowing in apprehension.

She had of course visited to ask if he could come to the party, because now that they were fully inhabiting the fiction of their relationship, there was no way he couldn’t come.

“That’s okay.” He flashed her a grin. “I’m good with people.”

Hiyori gave him a doubtful look, and he held up a finger.

“Let’s not forget, I talked about calligraphy with your mom for almost twenty minutes.”

She nodded, slowly. “Yeah. Yeah…I guess you’ll be okay.”

She straightened her spine, then reached up to rub the back of her neck. She blew a long breath out of her nose. Yato was nearly overcome with the intense and completely unacceptable urge to offer her a shoulder massage.

“Everyone’s going to be drunk and dancing anyway, so it’s not like we’ll be under close examination,” she reasoned, oblivious to his internal conflict. “At least, we shouldn’t be.”

“Who’s coming?” he asked, desperate to shift the topic and draw his attention away from the brush of her shoulder against his as they sat on the couch.

“Whoever Yama’s invited. I try not to ask questions.”

“But isn’t this your party?”

Hiyori snorted. “She’s using my birthday as an excuse to throw a rager. I didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“Well…if it’s for your birthday, shouldn’t you get to at least invite a few of the people you want to be there?”

She opened her mouth, closed it again, and turned very red. Yato, who still couldn’t allow himself to look at her, didn’t notice her sudden color change.

“I mean—in theory—” she stuttered out. Taking a moment to gather her composure, she continued: “I know I give her a hard time about it, but Yama wouldn’t invite anyone I couldn’t stand. I do trust her judgment on that.”

Hiyori paused. “If…well, if you wanted to invite anyone, I’m sure it would be fine,” she said. “Of course, Yukine and Kazuma are welcome to come.”

Yukine, who had been blatantly and unashamedly eavesdropping on the entire conversation from the hallway, dropped a pencil at the sound of his own name. The clatter as it fell to the floor sent him scurrying back to his room like a startled cat. From the kitchen, Yato and Hiyori both heard Kazuma humming along to “Toxic” as he microwaved Cup Noodles to fortify himself for his sixteenth straight hour of online chess.

“Yes,” Yato said lifelessly. “They are both party animals.”

: : :

Someone was hammering on Hiyori’s door.

“Are you comin’?” Yama demanded through the keyhole. “Or are you jus’ gonna stay in there and suck?!”

Hiyori grimaced. She had been procrastinating for twenty minutes already, and there was a very real chance Yama might bash down her bedroom door and yank her downstairs by force. After mentally double-checking that all the valuables in her room were safely pushed under the bed or into drawers, she pulled her fingers against her ponytail, loosening the tie and letting hair fall around her shoulders. It was the only effort she made to appear more festive. There was little, after all, that this party held for her.

Yama pounded on the door again, but the sound was almost drowned out by the music thumping through the floorboards, pulsing against the soles of Hiyori’s feet. Abe’s friend had brought his own massive speakers, and she felt every throb of the powerful bass in her stomach.

“Coming!” Hiyori called back. There was no response. Apparently, Yama had already abandoned her efforts.

As soon as Hiyori opened the door, the noise hit her like a wall of concrete. The bass pumped wildly, layered under a jumpy electropop remix of some radio hit. Almost as soon as she set foot outside her bedroom door, Hiyori had to edge her way past a couple violently making out against the wall.

“‘Scuse me,” she muttered, squeezing around them to head for the stairs.

As she slipped by, Hiyori saw that Yama was one-half of the embracing couple. Well, that certainly explained her silence. It was too dim to see much in the hallway, so Hiyori could only hope that the other participant was her boyfriend.

She made her way to the top of the stairs, hoping desperately that Ami was somewhere nearby to provide a safe haven. However, as Hiyori peered down onto the first floor, she had a hard time seeing much of anything. The lights were low, and it was hard to read anyone’s features from that distance and angle. There was a hum of voices and laughter beneath the music.

Then, something shone among the moving bodies. A long, bright swish of gold moved up the dark stairs toward her. “Hiyori!” said a girl’s voice, and suddenly Hiyori was looking at a familiar—and extremely beautiful—face.

Even though she stood two steps below her on the stairs, Viina still came exactly to Hiyori’s height. She held two plastic cups in front of her, and before she could think to respond, Hiyori found herself accepting one of them.

“Hi,” she said in bewilderment.

“I didn’t know it was your birthday! I felt so bad that I didn’t say anything in lab yesterday. I would have at least done the worksheet for you.”

Viina’s wide, genuine smile sent a rush of warmth through Hiyori’s chest. She answered with a grin of her own.

“No, it’s fine. I didn’t really want to mention it to anyone, but…well…you see how well that worked out.” She made a wide, circular gesture with the hand holding the drink. Viina gave a throaty laugh.

“I did have a feeling this probably wasn’t something you planned.”

Hiyori grimaced, and took a sip of the drink in her hand. It was some sort of punchy cocktail: heavy on the pineapple and light on the liquor. It was really good.

“Is it…safe, down there?” she asked hesitantly. Viina’s eyes darted across her face, then softened in understanding.

“Yes,” she said frankly, and Hiyori sighed in relief.

Viina’s lips twitched. “It’s mostly just loud. I think your DJ is really excited to use that equipment.”

Hiyori squinted toward the corner of the room—the area from which the punishing noise emanated. Through the crowd and the low light, she was just able to make out a tiny figure next to the sound equipment, bobbing excitedly along to the raucous beat.

“Well, at least someone’s having fun,” she said. Viina snorted, then took Hiyori by the elbow, drawing her down the stairs. To Hiyori’s look of questioning surprise, she said playfully:

“Come on. There has to be one person here you wouldn’t mind hanging out with.”

At that, Hiyori found herself scanning the milling people for someone tall, with unkempt dark hair, or for anyone in gym clothes, but no one stood out.

She told herself the vicious knot in her gut was from excitement, or nerves, or even the quick-acting alcohol in the punch. But it was definitely not disappointment. Definitely, definitely not.

She allowed Viina to pull her down the stairs and into the crowd of people, some of whom were no longer faceless. Hiyori caught a glimpse of Ami, who had sequestered herself in the middle of a group of bespectacled undergraduates passionately discussing particle physics over the punch bowl. They passed through the center of the living room, which functioned as a dance floor, where she was shocked to see Ebisu—the star student from last quarter’s economics class—apparently having a dance-off with Takemikazuchi, whom she had only seen a few times in passing, and who always gave the impression of having just gotten away with first-degree murder.

Hiyori was being steered by her lab partner toward a small circle of other girls, none of whom she recognized. They were all similar to Viina in appearance, though none of them were quite so tall, slender, or unbearably gorgeous. Hiyori felt herself shrinking and becoming more average-looking by comparison.

“These are some teammates of mine,” Viina said as the girls turned to look at them. “Kinuha, Tsuyu, and Mayu.”

Hiyori nodded and smiled at each of them, desperately trying to remember what team Viina had said she was on, and whether she would be able to fake her way through a conversation about any sport on the planet.

“H-hi,” she said, her voice lost beneath the wallops of the bass.

The four took stock of her discomfort, and a look of mutual agreement passed between them. With preternatural speed, Hiyori found herself tucked into a safe corner of the room with a fresh drink in her hand and chatting happily with Mayu, who possessed a cornucopia of side-splitting anecdotes. A few minutes into her story about a summer babysitting job, a wandering herd of wild goats, several modest bribes, and a gallon of antifreeze, laughter had driven the anxiety straight from Hiyori’s mind.

She stayed there for a long while, protected from the rest of the party, and only occasionally sinking into brief thoughts of who had not yet arrived.

: : :

Yato was hours late to the party because of only one reason, and that reason was currently pressing his forehead against the window of Hiyori’s house, cupping his hands around his eyes in order to see better.

“Do you think she’s here?” he whispered.

Yato yanked Kazuma back by the collar before someone inside the house could witness his behavior.

“If we go in, maybe you can find her,” he said, trying to mask his rising irritation.

Kazuma looked so stricken at the thought of actually meeting Viina in a casual environment that Yato took pity on him. He took his roommate by the shoulders, giving him a vigorous shake.

“Listen, man. It’ll be fine. Just pretend you’re talking about chemistry or something.”

At the word “chemistry,” Kazuma’s nostrils flared. The look on his face suggested that he was a hair’s breadth from darting into oncoming traffic.

“I don’t know if I can talk to her about…normal things,” he confessed, his voice weak with terror.

Yato let go of his shoulders after a final encouraging shake. “Just ask her to dance. Then you don’t have to talk.”

And he walked inside, leaving Kazuma standing on the welcome mat, looking like a stake had been driven through his heart.

As soon as he was inside, Yato felt the bass pounding in his teeth. The house was full of people he didn’t know, talking to each other, drinking out of plastic cups, laughing with loud, liquor-soaked voices. A claustrophobic crush of people in the next room over suggested that was where dancing might be happening. He scanned the room, hoping to find Hiyori somewhere close. At the very least, he could say hi, put in an obligatory appearance as her partner, and leave before things got hairy.

Yato scooted along the wall, making progress toward the room with the loudest music and the most people. As soon as he eased himself through the door, his eyes fell on the tiny figure bouncing between the enormous speakers in the corner of the room. It was only when he saw the shock of pink curls that his eyes widened with recognition.

As though sensing his presence, Kofuku caught Yato’s gaze. She shrieked, flinging herself through the crowd to crash into his arms.

“Yato!?” she wailed. “I missed yoooouuuu!”

Yato squeezed her back for the barest of seconds, then pushed her off him, holding her at arm’s length. A few people had looked up at the outburst, but their attention was quickly diverted.

Yato took hold of Kofuku’s elbow, pulling her toward the edge of the room and out of the speakers’ blast zone.

“What is this?” With a broad sweep of his arm he encompassed the speakers, mixer, and the party in general. His incredulous question had no dampening effect on Kofuku’s manic enthusiasm.

“I got a job! I got paid $6.50 to be the DJ for this party!”

Yato stared at her, unable to process any part of that statement.

“Do you even know how?”

Kofuku nodded vigorously. “Yep. The guy who paid me showed me the ‘ON’ button and the volume.”

“And he paid you $6.50?”

“Yep!”

Yato didn’t have it in his heart to tell Kofuku that a stranger had given her his pocket change, planted her behind the mixer, and turned on a playlist.

“Hey! Daikoku’s here too!” Kofuku wheeled around, reached into the crowd, and hauled her boyfriend out of nowhere. “Daikoku, look who showed up!” she crowed.

Daikoku, who stood head and shoulders above the rest of the people around them and looked, as usual, more like a hitman than a small business owner, gave Yato a curt nod.

“Hey man,” he grunted.

Yato returned the nod and the grunt, praying to whoever was listening that Daikoku would refrain from mentioning their encounter at the shop. Kofuku would pounce on that like a tiger kitten on a freshly killed gazelle. He cast around for something to talk about.

“Is there food anywhere here?” he asked. Kofuku shrugged. Daikoku pointed toward an open door on their right. Two girls walked through, carrying plastic cups in each hand.

“Not sure about food, but it looks like the drinks are in there.”

The three of them made their way to the door, which opened into a kitchen/dining area that was slightly quieter and better lit than the room they had just left. Even with the crowd, the noise, and the mess, the interior of the house managed to appear luxurious and wealthy. Yato couldn’t help mentally tallying the differences between Hiyori’s living situation and his own, and felt his insides sink.

“Chips!” Kofuku cried, and stuffed half the contents of the bag into her face. She was already vacuuming up the crumbs hiding in the crinkles of the bag by the time Yato and Daikoku had poured themselves drinks.

“You are like a little baby,” Yato said. “Watch this.”

He opened a second bag without looking at the label, tipped back his head, and poured two thirds of it down his throat. After a few seconds of crunching, he gagged, water leaking out of his eyes. He choked again, and a little puff of red powder escaped his mouth. Tears streamed down his face as he swiped at his lips in agony. Kofuku erupted in insane giggles and pointed at the “LAVA HOT GHOST CHILI™” flavor brand stamped broadly across the front of the chip bag.

Daikoku patted Yato on the back as his throat exploded in flames, and a shower of half-chewed Lava Hot Ghost Chili™ chips sprayed onto the floor.

“Gross, dude,” Daikoku said sympathetically.

: : :

The pineapple punch drink was stronger than it tasted. A lovely, bubbling contentment had spread through Hiyori’s limbs as she downed the rest of her cup. She was having such a nice time that she almost managed to forget the one person she invited hadn’t yet arrived.

Almost.

As though she had telepathic access to Hiyori’s thoughts, Yama demanded: “Isn’t your boyyyfrieeend coming?”

She dragged the vowels out for several miles, slinging a strangulating arm around Hiyori’s neck and collapsing against her shoulder. Hiyori swatted at her drunk friend’s face harder than was necessary, her comment having struck a nerve.

“Shut up,” she said. “He’s probably here. Somewhere.”

“Aren’t you gonna go fiiiiind him?”

“No.” Hiyori settled onto the arm of the chair where she was perched, on the outskirts of a conversation between Tsuyu and Viina. “I’m comfy here.”

Yama shrugged. Despite the haze of alcohol, her eyes were narrow and glinting with mischief. “Suit yourself,” she crooned.

Hiyori, irked, suddenly stood up. The floor under her dipped like the deck of a ship, but she caught herself before pitching forward.

“I want another drink,” she announced to the room at large, refusing to look at Yama, who sank, giggling, into her abandoned seat.

Hiyori marched crookedly over to the table with the enormous punch bowl, which was near the door to the kitchen. As she pushed blindly through the crowd, she knocked into someone, hard. The empty plastic cup flew out of her grip, but a hand shot from nowhere to catch it.

“This yours?” said a voice from somewhere slightly above her head. Hiyori blinked wildly as she looked up, wishing the floor would stop rocking.

Standing in front of her and holding her cup, she saw the very last person she wanted to run into at this party.

“Oh god,” she groaned. “Why are you here?”

Fujisaki frowned. “That’s…not exactly the hospitable reception I hoped for. I received an invitation, of course.”

“I doubt that,” Hiyori snapped. She took a step away, trying to strategize a safe exit.

“I really don’t feel like socializing at the moment, so if you’ll just excuse me—”

She snatched her cup away from him, and began to push toward the punch bowl, but Fujisaki took hold of her elbow before she could move very far. She shot him a filthy glare when his hand didn’t immediately retract.

“Here,” he said. He released her elbow, holding his hand up in a placating gesture. “I got this for myself, but you can have it. I’ll get another one.”

His other hand held a plastic cup, identical to her empty one. This one was full of punch. Hiyori hesitated for a second, then grabbed it from him, slopping some of it onto her hand.

“Thanks,” she muttered. She stalked back to the couch, leaving Fujisaki behind in the crowd. She didn’t see the smile that slipped across his mouth like poison.

When she got back to her seat, Yama had vanished. Viina had also left, so Hiyori took her place on the couch next to Tsuyu.

“Someone asked her to dance,” Tsuyu said in explanation. Then she rolled her eyes. “For the twelfth time.”

Hiyori peered into the press of dancing figures in the next room, and saw a flash of bright hair. Shaken from her encounter with Fujisaki, she took a large, fortifying gulp of her drink.

This batch was stronger. A lot stronger. Hiyori winced as a bitter streak of cold fire raced down her throat.

She wasn’t sure if it was annoyance with Fujisaki or the vague cloud of disappointment that had been hanging over her for most of the evening, but she relished the dizzy, insane euphoria that hit her system minutes after the punch did.

“I wan’ dance,” she informed Tsuyu—or thought she did, before turning her head to see that Tsuyu had been lured away. She saw her nearby, talking animatedly to a man who looked far, far too old for the party. Hiyori slowly came to recognize him as her literature professor, Dr. Tenjin.

“Why is he here?” she asked aloud. Her words came out slurred and incomprehensible.

“I think the real question is, why aren’t you dancing?”

The voice above her cut through the fog in Hiyori’s ears. She couldn’t place it at first, but as someone took her hand and pulled her up from the couch, she couldn’t locate her feet and ended up crashing against a tall, solid body.

“Looks like someone’s a lightweight,” said Fujisaki’s voice playfully, still from somewhere above her. Hiyori didn’t immediately associate the voice with the person holding her up.

“Hmm-mm.” She tried to shake her head “no,” but her neck was slow and her head was heavy. The delightful bubbles in her veins had turned to sludge, coursing through her like mud through a drowned river. Through the chest of the person holding her, she felt the vibration of a low chuckle against her cheek.

Her limbs dragged. She was so slow, so sleepy…so heavy, unbearably heavy.

Fujisaki’s voice spoke again, right against her face, so close she could smell his sour breath:

“Why don’t we take you someplace quiet?”

: : :

“Who’re you looking for?”

Kofuku’s quick eyes intercepted Yato’s wandering gaze as he scanned the crowd. He looked back at her with a start, and brought his cup to his lips to hide the guilty twitch of his mouth, which still burned from the Lava Hot Ghost Chili™ dust.

“No one,” he said guiltily.

Kofuku pursed her lips and crinkled her eyebrows. Her expression, which always lent itself so readily to mischief, became positively alarming as she stared him down and waited for the truth. Yato broke.

“I was invited by someone,” he admitted. “I’m looking for her.”

Kofuku squealed. She wrapped herself around his arm, starving for more details. “Oooooohhh, who?!?”

“You don’t know her.”

“I might!”

“You definitely don—”

Yato broke off suddenly, because he had seen something.

What he saw was this: Kouto Fujisaki standing on the other side of the room, his wolfish gaze trained on Yato. He had one arm wrapped around the waist of a girl who slumped against him, her head lolling on his shoulder. Yato’s eyes passed over Fujisaki to the girl, who looked half-asleep. Even from where Yato stood, across the loud, pulsing room, her posture and attitude radiated terrifying vulnerability.

The blood drained from Yato’s face so quickly that he felt dizzy.

The girl was Hiyori.

He looked at Fujisaki. As soon as their eyes met, Fujisaki’s hand dropped low on Hiyori’s hip and he licked his thin lips, winking at Yato in lewd victory. His hand crept lower. Yato looked back at Hiyori: at her vacant eyes, her drooping head. For a second, it looked like she was trying to push against Fujisaki, trying to dislodge the arm snaking around her.

The noise of the party dropped away, replaced by a dull, aching buzz that originated somewhere in his sinuses.

Then, the room went red.

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: What Comes After (11/?)

Summary: Dead Like Me AU. After Belle French loses her life in an accident, she finds out that she has been recruited to join the ranks of the Grim Reapers, helping souls pass on. It’s a huge upheaval to deal with, but her fellow reapers are there to help her out, especially head reaper Gold.

Who says you can’t find love after life?

Rated: T

[One] [Two] [Three] [Four] [Five] [Six] [Seven] [Eight] [Nine] [Ten] [AO3]

====

Eleven

Belle was surprised when the buzzer for her apartment went off. Dorothy was out for the evening, seeing her mystery lady again, and she wasn’t expecting any visitors. As per Ella’s advice, she was vegging out in front of The Bachelorette with a pint of strawberry ice cream, and whilst she wasn’t feeling sorry for herself per se, she was definitely feeling in need of pyjamas, ice cream and television that didn’t require a lot of intellectual brainpower.

The summons came again, and she went over to the intercom.

“Hello?”

“Hello Belle. It’s Alistair. I’m really sorry about what happened earlier. Can we talk, please?”

Belle paused with her finger hovering over the button to let him into the apartment, wondering if Ella had put him up to this or whether he had come around of his own accord. Either way, he was here, and he wanted to talk about it, and that was definitely a step in the right direction.

She buzzed him in and went to open the door, and a couple of minutes later she saw him round the corner from the stairwell. He was looking tired, but he smiled when he saw her standing in the doorway.

“Hi,” he said. “Is Dorothy in?”

“No, she’s got a date tonight, so she probably won’t be back till late. We can talk freely.”

Belle stood back to let him in and went to make some tea. She was still annoyed at him, but she was no longer in the same incoherent state of misery and anger that she had been in before.

“I wanted to apologise for the way I handled things earlier,” Gold began once they were sitting on the sofa with their tea – Belle had shoved the ice cream back in the freezer and turned the TV channel over to a more high-brow documentary about polar bears in an effort not to look like she’d been wallowing in self-pity. “I was an insensitive arsehole about the whole thing, and I’m sorry.”

Belle smiled. “Apology accepted. I can understand why you reacted the way you did, but you have to understand why I reacted the way I did as well. It’s still so new for me and so raw, and there are certain aspects of this reaping lifestyle that I still can’t get to grips with.”

“I know, and I should have taken that into account. We can’t save people from their appointments, Belle, however much we might want to. Believe me, there have been several instances where I’ve wanted to intervene, but we can’t. It just makes things even worse.”

“I know. I understand that now, but it would probably have been better to know that upfront so that I wasn’t tempted.”

“I’ll bear that in mind for the next time we get a new reaper and put it in the training manual,” Gold said. Belle had to laugh at that.

“You really, really do need a training manual,” she said. “I can just imagine you going around with a new reaper, carrying this huge lever-arch file full of all the rules and regulations and general advice. There could be a little exam at the end of it, like a reaper driving test.”

Gold gave a snort of laughter. “I’m really not quite sure where we’d be if we had reaping tests,” he said. “Every single one of us would fail for some reason or another. At any rate, I hope that we can put this behind us? It won’t happen again, I can assure you.”

Belle nodded. “Yes, I think that we can move on from this. It’s not the kind of thing that would happen more than once anyway. Maybe we both just need to think before we act a little more.”

“Or think before we speak,” Gold said. “For fear of opening mouth and inserting feet instead.”

Belle giggled. It meant a lot to her that Gold had come to apologise so quickly and that he recognised why she had been so upset in the first place.

“I’m sorry that I nearly screwed it up,” she said.

“You didn’t know,” Gold said. “It wasn’t something that I thought was going to be a problem, so it’s down to a lack of foresight on my part. We’ll say no more about it. The reap was successful in the end and the soul has moved on; that’s what’s important when it all comes down to it.”

Gold’s hand was resting on the table between them, as if he wanted to take hers but wasn’t sure if he would be welcome. Belle made the decision for him, grasping his fingers tightly in hers before going in for a kiss. It might be a bit soon for their first fight, and perhaps a bit soon for their first session of kissing and making up, but Belle didn’t care. Nothing about this relationship was the slightest bit conventional since the two participants were dead for starters, so she might as well make the most of it.

Gold smiled as she broke away.

“Would you like to go out somewhere?” he asked. “Just for a walk to clear the air and clear our heads. Ella has an evening double reap today, we could go and meet her afterwards.”

“That sounds good. We can let her know that all’s well in the world again. Thank you for calling her earlier. I was in such a state, I don’t know what I would have done if she hadn’t come after me.”

“You’re welcome. I knew that you needed someone, but I doubted that person would be me after what had just happened.”

Belle thought again about what Ella had said about Gold removing himself from situations, but she said nothing about it.

They left the apartment together and wandered around the town, down towards the river that ran through it. They didn’t talk much as they walked along the path, both lost in their own thoughts but content in the company that they had.

A little way along the path, they met Ella, who was looking a far cry from her usual outrageous self and instead seemed harried and stressed. She was holding two young men by the collars of their jackets and practically dragging them along the path after her.

Gold raised an eyebrow as she approached and stopped in front of him.

“Interesting reap, Ella?” he asked.

Ella just glared at him, then glared even more ferociously at the two men she was holding. Both of them had the decency to look contrite.

“These two utter idiots decided that it would be a good idea to hire a fishing boat, row out into the middle of the river and then proceed to take some incredibly powerful illicit substances and end up killing each other. They can’t even remember what they were arguing about now.”

The two men looked sheepish.

“Now, I am no stranger to illicit substances because I was around during the sixties and seventies and I did my fair share of experimentation,” Ella continued. “However, since I literally can’t die, I think that there were significantly less risks involved. Even so, I was never stupid enough to take LSD in a bloody rowing boat!” She sighed heavily. “It wouldn’t be so bad if I hadn’t had to row out as well to reap them. Do I look like the kind of person who rows?”

Belle couldn’t suppress a laugh at that, but thankfully Ella had returned to chastising the two souls and did not turn her death glare on her.

“All right, off you go. Go and kiss and make up and find your lights.”

She pushed the two of them gently along the river path, and a moment later Belle heard the now-familiar swoosh of their lights picking them up and taking them onto the next plane of existence.

“Well, that’s that,” Ella said decidedly. “I take it from your presence here in close proximity to each other that you two are on the right track as well? No-one’s gone and done or said anything to make matters worse?”

Gold shook his head. “No, we’re all right, thank you, Ella.”

“In that case, I suggest a victory cocktail at Aesop’s. The pina coladas are on me. All right, Gold, you can have a straight whisky. One of these days I’m going to get a picture of you drinking a mai tai.”

“You might have a very long wait, Ella.”

“I’m prepared for that.”

They walked on down the path together and Belle couldn’t help but smile as she slipped her hand surreptitiously into Gold’s. Things were going to be all right between them now.

X

Belle woke up happy and refreshed, with the memories of the previous evening still forefront in her mind. They’d had one drink with Ella before Gold had walked her home, and they had kissed again at the entrance to her building, a final confirmation that all was forgiven, and the afternoon’s mishap would not come between them again. Dorothy had arrived back later, and from the whispers and giggles and urgings to please be quiet I have a roommate and I don’t want to wake her up, it was evident that she had brought her date back home with her.

Belle didn’t really think much on the topic of Dorothy bringing her date home with her until the next morning. It didn’t make the slightest bit of difference to Belle what Dorothy did in her love life. It only became a problem when she walked into the kitchen to get her morning tea and found Ruby standing there by the kettle.

It was the first time that Belle had come face to face with Ruby since becoming a reaper, and she had no idea what to say. She knew that Ruby didn’t recognise her. She knew that to Ruby, she wasn’t Belle anymore. She was Lacey, Dorothy’s roommate to whom Ruby had not yet been introduced.

Therefore, standing there staring at Ruby open-mouthed probably wasn’t the best way to go about things.

Luckily, Ruby wasn’t looking in her direction, so Belle had time to compose herself and try to work out what she was going to say. Hopefully any awkwardness could be put down to the inherently awkward circumstance of finding one’s roommate’s girlfriend in the kitchen one morning.

It was at that moment that Ruby turned and saw her.

“Oh, erm, hi.”

“Hi. I’m Lacey, Dorothy’s roommate.”

“Ruby. Dorothy’s, well, girlfriend, I guess.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Ruby.”

“Likewise.”

Ruby moved aside to let Belle get to the kettle and make herself some tea, and Belle pointedly tried to avoid her friend’s eye. She probably looked ridiculous, but Ruby seemed to be feeling just as embarrassed by the situation as she was. It wasn’t embarrassment at all on Belle’s part. She was trying so desperately to suppress the urge to tell her friend who she really was and catch up with everything that had been going on in the last couple of months since her death. So far she had been doing very well at not wanting and not trying to interact with her old life; she had embraced her reaping existence as fully as she could bring herself to. Now though, there was no avoiding with it. Her old life was interacting with her, rather than the other way around.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you around,” she said quickly once her tea was made, and she hurried back through into her bedroom, closing the door behind her and leaning back against it, closing her eyes. When Gold had said that living with Dorothy would only be a short-term solution because the living and the dead couldn’t really cohabit, she’d taken his words with a pinch of salt. Now though, she knew exactly what he meant. If Ruby and Dorothy’s relationship continued, which Belle hoped that it would since both ladies really did deserve love and happiness in their lives, then it was going to be impossible for Belle to carry on living in the apartment. There was far too much chance of something going wrong and her letting slip something that could ruin everything.

Still, that was something to think about at a later stage. For the immediate future, Ruby probably wouldn’t be hanging around too much and Belle had time to think up her next move.

Unbidden, she found her thoughts drifting back to Gold and her budding relationship with him, and she realised that she still had no idea where he actually lived. She wondered what it might be like to wake up in a home that wasn’t her own and wander around making tea, waiting for her lover to wake, remembering the night that they had just spent together.

Belle shook her head and went over to sit on her bed, drinking her tea and trying to push those thoughts out of her head. It was far too soon for her to be thinking about that stage of their relationship just yet, but all the same, a bit of daydreaming surely wouldn’t hurt. Gold was a good-looking man, and if she was wondering what he might look like underneath the three-piece suit that he always wore like armour, then she wasn’t doing anyone any harm. Except possibly herself when she exploded from lust the next time that she saw him.

She sighed. Gold came from a different era, after all. The last time that he’d had a relationship, the way of going about it had been very different. Although he seemed to have moved with the times in most senses, she got the feeling that getting him into bed might be a bit difficult, no matter how much they both might want it. Well, assuming that Gold did want it and did feel the same way about her that she did about him. Dating was one thing. Going further than dating was quite another, and it was only now that she was taking into account Gold’s history that she really realised how disparate the two notions were and how caught up in each other they had become over the years of relationship etiquette and behaviour evolving.

She supposed that the only way would be to take each day as it came. It wasn’t as if they were on some kind of a tight schedule for this relationship after all. They had all the time in the world to get it right, and if that meant taking things slowly to start with, then Belle was happy with that. She was an impulsive soul, she always had been, as she had proved so dramatically with her reap the previous day. Forcing herself to put a bit more thought into things wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. The gift that she had been given in this relationship with Gold, when she had thought that love and romance would be off the table for the entirety of her very long afterlife, wasn’t one that she wanted to squander in any way. It was something precious, and she intended to treat it as such. It was a second chance at happiness in an existence that might otherwise have been incredibly bleak.

All the same, that didn’t mean that she had to wait for Gold to make the next move. They were both in this thing together, after all, and it was the twenty-first century. Why shouldn’t she take matters into her own hands?

X

It was a Sunday, and therefore there was no post for Belle to deliver. Gold had been keeping half an eye on the shop door all morning, wondering if she would put in an appearance. They had made up after the events of the afternoon that had caused what might have been an irreparable rift between them had it been left to fester, and they had left each other in a good place.

Still, that didn’t mean that he could necessarily monopolise Belle’s attention or expect her to spend all her free time in the shop with him. She had other friends, other interests, and it was good that she was getting to know her fellow reapers and feel a little less lonely in their isolated world.

“Are you looking out for Lacey?” Henry asked, bringing Gold back into the present. He coughed, embarrassed at having been caught out so obviously, and shook his head.

“No, of course not. That would be preposterous.”

“I really don’t think that it would,” Henry said. “You like her, she likes you. I think it would be good for you to have a friend who’s not me.”

“I have plenty of friends who are not you, Henry,” Gold said.

Henry just raised an eyebrow, unconvinced, and Gold despaired inwardly at just how good the boy was at reading people.

“Of course,” he said smoothly. “I know. But that aside, I think that it would be good for you to have a girlfriend.”

“Lacey is not my girlfriend.”

Except, she was really, wasn’t she? They were dating, and kissing, and holding hands… Yes, Belle was definitely his girlfriend. Gold had never had a girlfriend before. The term hadn’t been coined when he’d been courting Milah.

Henry just looked at him but made the wise decision not to pursue the line of enquiry any further, settling for smiling to himself and knowing that Gold was in a terrible state of denial. Gold just sighed and handed him a stack of old newspapers.

“If you’re looking for something to keep you entertained, you can get going on wrapping up those ceramic dogs ready for delivery,” he said. “Since you’re here, you might as well make yourself useful whilst you’re teasing me about my love life.”

“I’m just glad you have a love life, Mr Gold. Everybody needs somebody, you know.”

Gold didn’t respond and cast a final glance back at the door before going back to the ledger in which he kept all his stock and continuing to make the monthly count. The shop never received much business on a Sunday – not that it received all that much business throughout the rest of the week either – and he wasn’t expecting much fluctuation to alter his figures. It was only once he hadn’t heard Henry speak for a while that he glanced over at the boy to find him engrossed in one of the papers.

“It’s a good job that I don’t pay you, or I’d be docking wages for reading on the job,” he said. “What’s got you so interested?”

Henry’s brow was furrowed as he looked intently at the paper, and he didn’t respond at first.

“Henry?” Gold pressed. “Are you all right?”

Henry nodded slowly. “It’s nothing,” he said eventually. “It’s just this picture in the paper.”

Gold came over and leaned over Henry’s shoulder, looking at what had caught Henry’s attention. His stomach gave a nervous flip when he saw that it was Belle’s obituary from a couple of months back, complete with a picture of Belle when she’d been alive, standing outside the library.

“She looks a lot like Lacey,” Henry said. “I thought it was her for a moment.”

“Well, they do say that everyone has a doppelgänger,” Gold said, trying to sound as unconcerned and nonchalant as he could. He’d long suspected that there was something about Henry when it came to his interactions with the reapers, but he’d never had any kind of concrete proof that he could see their true faces until now.

“I guess so.” Henry gave Belle’s picture a final look and then scrunched up the sheet, shoving it into the box to cushion the ceramic dogs that would be sent out on Monday to their new owner. With any luck, that would be the end of the conversation and it would not come up again. None of the rest of his reaping crew were in a position for Henry to be able to identify them from life, so there was no cause for concern, and in this day and age, hopefully everything could just be put down to uncanny resemblance rather than anything sinister or supernatural.

All the same, he was intrigued. What was it about Henry that allowed him to see the reapers’ true faces when no-one else living could?

He was pulled out of his musings by the shop bell chiming, and Belle walking in. She waved to Henry, who waved back happily, showing no signs of being disturbed by her presence.

“I can’t stop,” Belle said. “I’m on my way to meet Mulan, but I just wanted to ask if you’d like to come over for dinner tomorrow? Dorothy will be working so it’ll just be the two of us. I’m not the world’s greatest cook, but I haven’t poisoned myself yet.”

Gold smiled. “I would love to, thank you.”

Belle beamed. “All right then. I’ll see you tomorrow. We can work out the details later. Bye Henry!”

She rushed out again as quickly as she had entered, and Henry gave Gold a sage look.

“She is definitely your girlfriend.”

[skiecas]

☀

literally nobody asked, but i really like the [balcony au], so i have some more headcanons!

iwaizumi has lived in the building for three years. he’s a nice guy who gets along with his neighbors (godzilla model on his balcony aside) when he sees them in the halls, so he’s been enjoying a steady era of peace.

then oikawa moves into the apartment above his.

oikawa’s balcony is completely littered with clothes hanging everywhere. it’s not even his laundry; he just has so many clothes that they don’t all fit in his tiny closet (but most of the residents just think he’s showing off, so it makes for a terrible first impression).

the weirdest part of oikawa’s balcony, though, is that thanks to an accident by the previous owner, there is a small hole on his balcony floor that gives him a direct view of iwaizumi’s balcony.

he discovers this on his first day living in the building.

when he notices the hole, he peers into it curiously—and the most handsome man he has ever seen in his life walks out and cupid’s arrow shoots straight through oikawa’s heart.

after this, he is always looking in through the hole to try and get iwaizumi to chat with him (and failing miserably at his attempts to flirt).

iwaizumi hates his new upstairs neighbor so much; the guy is always talking, he just never shuts up, he can’t even remember what peace was like before all this??

he ends up moving his godzilla model right under the hole so oikawa can’t see anything anymore when he looks through.

eventually, though, the two actually start having nice talks and start getting along. iwaizumi will sometimes move the model aside so he can look up and speak directly to oikawa. he ends up eventually moving the model aside for good.

the best part is that iwaizumi has no idea what his upstairs neighbor actually looks like. the hole is so small that all he sees is an eye, a little bit of brown hair, a little bit of a nose. but that’s about it.

so he has no idea his neighbor is a freaking greek god until they finally run into each other in the laundry room and, oh god, iwaizumi’s brain loses all ability to function because OIKAWA IS GORGEOUS???

bokuto has, like, fifty wind chimes on his balcony because he collects them.

he likes to take lots of road trips with his friends, and he has chimes for every town he’s been in.

it started when he and kuroo went on their first road trip together after high school graduation, and they found these chimes in a novelty store that had a handle that looked like a penis. they lost it laughing, and then kuroo bought them for bokuto as a gag gift.

bokuto still has them; they’re also hanging on the balcony (with his forty-nine others, lol).

akaashi lives right next to bokuto.

their balconies are really close together, so if they ever step out at the same time, they can have a normal conversation at normal volume (though they never do, despite bokuto’s attempts).

akaashi is a normal office worker, but his hobby is bird-watching. that’s why his balcony is full of birdhouses and bird feeders, and he loves having lots of bird visitors come so he can feed them and take care of them.

again, his balcony is always spotless though he has never once been seen cleaning up bird poop. the other residents just don’t know how he does it??

akaashi does not like his neighbor because his noisy wind chimes (and even the noisy neighbor himself) are always scaring away the birds.

in the evenings, he’ll often bring a chair out to his balcony, along with a pair of binoculars, just to watch the birds out there do their thing. it’s kind of like stress relief.

sometimes he goes away on long trips with his bird-watching group. he has no idea that bokuto climbs into his balcony when he’s gone, to take care of his bird friends for him while he’s away.

kenma’s balcony is just like the one with all the umbrellas.

he has so many of them because he’s always losing his umbrella and then finding it, like, right after kuroo buys him a new one, lol.

he has his umbrellas set up that way to keep the sun out. since his window faces the sunrise, the light is always waking him up at ungodly hours of the morning (and after he pulled an all-nighter to beat his game, too).

kuroo, his childhood friend, is always visiting and is also the one who found this apartment for him (through his high school friend bokuto, who told him about a vacancy on his floor).

kuroo and bokuto like to hang out in kenma’s apartment all the time (for some goddamn reason, even though bokuto lives, like, right down the hall). kenma doesn’t really mind, though; he’s gotten used to tuning out their noisy conversations/laughter while he focuses on his games. and they feed him. and they have semi-good taste in movies, too.

kuroo does not live in the building.

he lives in a student dorm that’s close to the building and also to his school (where he works as a research assistant), with four other boys: yaku, kai, fukunaga, and tora.

they sleep two to a room (kuroo/yaku, fukunaga/tora, kai gets his own), and have a common living space, kitchen, and bathroom.

kuroo originally wanted kenma to come live in the dorm with him, but kenma refused to live with strangers.

however, kenma visits sometimes and has begrudgingly come to like/get along with kuroo’s roommates, who always give him a warm reception.

kageyama lives in the apartment below iwaizumi’s.

he’s still a high school student, but his parents pay his rent so he can live alone in the apartment.

he has a thousand origami cranes hanging up on his balcony.

they were given to him by his volleyball club teammates, as a sign of well wishes, after he hurt his leg during practice and had to be hospitalized for a week.

since the cranes were hinata’s idea, he of course said they were stupid and dumb and a waste of time/paper. he then proceeded to take them home and carefully hang them up on his balcony so he can see them all the time.

he has to take them down every time it rains, which is kind of a pain, but he’ll still always put them back up after the rain stops.

he also takes them down whenever hinata comes to visit (which is often) out of embarrassment.

kageyama gets along really well with his upstairs neighbor, iwaizumi, who treats him like a little brother and is always having him over for tea and volleyball talk, especially once he finds out kageyama lives alone as a high school student and doesn’t have a close relationship with his parents.

iwaizumi’s upstairs neighbor, oikawa, however, hates him. for some reason.

the reason: oikawa saw them having tea together on iwaizumi’s balcony through his little spy-hole and mistook them as boyfriends, and ooooh, he was jealous. this went on for about two weeks.

after the misunderstanding was cleared up, everything should have been okay. however, kageyama made some very blunt but well-meaning remarks about patching up the hole in oikawa’s balcony, and oikawa was convinced he was out to sabotage his love.

to this day, oikawa still thinks kageyama is in love with iwaizumi and is trying to get in between them.

it doesn’t help that kageyama is always cluelessly walking into their romantic moments and accidentally ruining everything, LOL.

tsukishima’s balcony is just like the one with the excessive drapes that are hiding the entire balcony from view.

(kenma saw this and wanted to do the same for his own, but kuroo didn’t let him).

he does this so he won’t be seen by kageyama or hinata, whom he tutors at the cram school where he works part-time (he’s a college student). he does not want to interact with them more than he already strictly has to.

the day he found out kageyama lives in his building (and that hinata is always visiting) was the worst day of his life.

he already has two sets of curtains hanging in his windows. then he added the covering on his balcony so he can water his plants in peace without being seen.

he also wears a face mask and a hat coming in and out of the building (tsukki, why are you so r i d i c u l o u s). there are rumors circulating among the building’s residents that a ~celebrity~ lives in his apartment.

but it’s just an antisocial college student, LOL.

however, tsukki does get along well with the man who lives next door to him, aone, who was also the one who gave him his plants.

by “well” i mean they don’t really talk but they also don’t hate each other. it works for them.

aone runs an entire freaking greenhouse on his balcony; there is not one inch of his balcony that is not covered in plants (except for the one spot where he keeps the glass tank where his pet turtle lives). he gives out plants to all his neighbors to make room for the new plants he keeps buying.

aone gets along well with akaashi, who lives two floors up, because he loves visiting his apartment and hanging out with all the cute birdies. they bond over birds. aone even joined him on a bird-watching expedition once.

aone’s coworker, futakuchi, crashes at his place a lot whenever his girlfriend is mad at him and kicks him out of the house. they both work at the local zoo.

futakuchi has so much fun teasing aone’s neighbor, tsukki, who is so easily riled up that it’s hilarious. then tsukki will call the security office to send someone up and kick futakuchi out; they always send kamasaki, even though this always ends with a lot of arguing and a physical brawl that aone has to separate.

yachi’s balcony is pretty normal on a day-to-day basis, but during the major holidays and festivals (xmas, valentine’s, first day of spring, tanabata, children’s day, etc.) she will go all out and lavishly decorate her balcony to celebrate.

since she has such an eye for art and design, she makes the most beautiful displays.

they’re so eye-catching and pretty that even people on the street will stop to take pictures of her balcony.

she’s actually gained a small following of fans, and people will make time out of their day to come see what she’s done for each event.

one of these fans is ennoshita, a film student at the nearby college, who comes every time to take photos and has even made an instagram account just for her displays.

the only downside is that yachi gets so anxious about all the people lurking outside the building that she’s too nervous to come out of her apartment on those days. so no one knows who is actually making these displays or what they look like or anything. she’s actually become a sort of urban legend in the neighborhood, lol.

however, she has so much fun making the displays and she loves that it makes people so happy, so she’ll always do it without fail.

hinata is the only one who knows of her identity. he found out one day while visiting kageyama, but he promised to keep her secret and he also brings her things she needs while she’s locked away in her apartment.

yachi also has a habit of using dry erase markers to draw cute pictures or write little notes on her windows. but those are just for herself!

ushijima works as a personal trainer at a nearby gym.

he lives on the second floor and has nothing on his balcony and nothing on his windows. no decorations, no curtains, no drapes. nothing.

this wouldn’t normally be a problem or cause for alarm. except? he has a habit? of exercising naked??

he also has no idea everyone on the street has a perfect view inside his apartment and can see him when he’s doing this.

the first time oikawa accidentally got an eyeful of him doing naked lunges, he cried.

the residents are always complaining to the landlord, moniwa, to do something about this. except ushijima is very intimidating and moniwa is kind of a pushover around him, so these frequent visits amount to absolutely nothing (except for a babbling landlord and a very confused tenant).

at least ushijima answers his door fully clothed.

let’s talk about sweet and precious moniwa.

he’s the landlord, and he absolutely hates it.

a tenant named tsukishima is always calling about some man named futakuchi in his neighbor’s apartment, and kamasaki always volunteers to go deal with it even though tsukishima always ends up calling back to complain about a physical fight.

tsukishima also calls to ask if it’s possible he can kick out a tenant named kageyama, then gets testy when moniwa tries to explain he can’t do that when kageyama hasn’t even done anything wrong.

tenants are always complaining about noisy wind chimes and birds pooping on their balconies.

a tenant named iwaizumi is always calling to insist he patch up a hole that’s not even in his own balcony. then he harrumphs and hangs up when moniwa tries to gently explain to him that the godzilla model on his balcony scares the children living in the building and people are always complaining about it.

ushijima is always naked. but he can do whatever he wants inside his own apartment, so why do people always call moniwa about it??

WHY DOES EVERYONE WANT SO MANY THINGS FROM HIM?

at least tenant yachi is a sweet angel who always brings him cupcakes.

moniwa has started to lose his hair.

he tries to sell the building once, but the only potential buyer is an old man named washijou, who calls him out on his low self-esteem and pushover tendencies and makes him cry. he ends up not even buying the building in the end.

don’t forget, moniwa. you’re here forever.

[krs724490]

I have to come on here and say something because this is really quite profound. I’ve wrote on this tumblr about every man. Literally since the OG Evan Flashner. And here I am. Back. This time it’s about Tyler Joseph Horner.

I have to say. I had hoped for myself that I wouldn’t be back so soon. That I would take time to build myself up without anyone in the picture. As you’ll learn, Tyler has taught me that building yourself and building a relationship are not mutually exclusive events. They can, in fact, occur simultaneously. And, actually, work together quite beautifully. Tyler has taught me so many things. So much so, that I know whatever happens, he’s given me more than I could ever ask from him and for that I am grateful. That is how I want to set the tone for this. So, let’s start at the beginning, shall we?

I met Tyler late February 2021 in Vail, Colorado. He was there on a ski trip with friends whom I am also friends with. I drove in from Denver to stay with them for a few days. I remember walking into the airbnb and taking mental note that he was the most attractive male there. No shame. It’s what I thought! Later that night we went to the grocery store. This is when being vegetarian came in handy! You see, Tyler is also vegetarian. So naturally, our friend Marcela thought there could be a potential match between us **eye roll at how she was right. Anywho! We discussed lentil pasta while the crew ran around filling 2 carts to the brim (literally) with all the food we would need for the week. They then proceeded to leave us in the car alone together while they took forever in the liquor store (not not on purpose). We made light get to know you conversation. Nothing crazy. Just what you would expect. & that’s the night we met. Funny how you look back at days like this & realize you had no idea you were meeting someone special.

Fast forward to the night. Ya know.. the night ;) I’m going to be honest here. And I don’t think Tyler knows this. But, I went on a date in Breckenridge that night (Danny was vanilla)….. then came back to our Airbnb in Vail to find the whole squad turnt up. By turnt up, I mean, quite hammered. Ya know, sloshed. I joined in the festivities and then, slowly, people started retreating to their rooms for bed. Eventually, Tyler and I were left in the living room. I’m not going to go into detail here, but you can imagine what happened. We slept uncomfortably on the couch. I’m still not sure how Tyler’s arm is attached to his body after that. The next morning I really just did not know what to do with myself. I still laugh at how awkward I felt. I didn’t know what to do with my hands!!! (Anchorman reference) I don’t do one night stands. In fact, I have never had a one night stand. This had that sort of vibe to it as Tyler is from New York & I was leaving that day to go home. So, I woke up and could not look him in the eye. I said my goodbyes to everyone (awkwardly side hugged Tyler saying nice to meet you, absolutely no eye contact was made) and drove back to Denver. On the drive home I imagine I was probably hitting myself over the head saying, “stupid stupid stupid.” Not over the awkwardness of the goodbye, but over my love life as a whole.

A few days later, he texted me. I knew I had no room for boys in my life, so when he texted me at first I was thinking “goddammit ain’t nobody got time for this….” but then we texted, and texted, and texted, and TEXTED. When I say we texted, I mean, it eventually got to the point where I was sending 80 messages at a time that took me an hour to write. Different conversation threads. Incredible emoji usage. I had to set aside time to message him back - I made myself a cup of tea and every night I would sit and write Tyler, sipping on it. There were times I would look forward to it. Other times I was exhausted typing things out haphazardly. I was trying to be funny and entertaining, witty, with those messages. Phone calls were sprinkled in here and there - when we could find time in our schedules that didn’t seem to too align well. My raspy voice could barely hold up my end of the conversation. Next thing I knew he was back in Colorado to “visit his Aunt & see Ki and Bobby” hehe. I’d like to think he was coming for me.

His first visit back, I met him at a coffee shop in Cherry Creek. I remember being so nervous! He pulled up in his uber, jumped out, scooped me!!! Kissed me!! And then put me down??!! Amazing. Incredible. Wonderful. Outstanding. I went to Ki and Bobby’s (by the way the sweetest couple ever) to see him the next night. The next day, we practically walked a half marathon…. we went down the Cherry Creek Trail to get matcha at the same shop as the day before (we were regulars now)(this was before Tyler drank matcha - also he knows about cherry park! Ask him about it!) Then, we went to tattered cover book store (of course), ate at True Food kitchen (vegetarians ugh!), got ice cream (DUH), stopped for some kombucha (which flavor to choose ?!), and circled back home. We got our steps in. Which is a thing that Tyler does on the regular. Now that I think about it, it’s an underrated thing that he has brought to my life. I love walking everywhere in order to eat, see, and do all the things. You come home tired, feeling accomplished. What a good practice to have. On the last day, he came to my yoga class at ONE. Which means a lot to me as a lot of my friends and family don’t participate in or see what I do. And I love what I do. So for him to be there and see the things and try the things ?! Thank you.

**one month later** Tyler is back in CO! This time to “see Anthony” his old roommate who was there working remotely. This is the trip I got called a fungible asset! We went to Boulder to hike the flat irons. My tummy hurt on that hike, but I didn’t bring it up. We had tacos for dinner with Anthony and Jen and Alanoud and her bf. Tyler cooked dinner for his Aunt Vicki and I the next night. Impossible burgers and veggies in her backyard! I like her yard. Something so homey about it. Juju and Syrus were great company. Remember how earlier I said it’s funny how you don’t realize you’re meeting someone important when you’re meeting them? That’s also true for Syrus. My future hiking partner. More on Vicki to come. She’s amazing.

Now we reach the point where it’s my turn to go see Tyler. So I book a flight to New York in July. 2 months away. These 2 months flew by. We texted and called. I do have to mention that this was when I was running on a treadmill at VASA & suddenly decided I did not want to be with Tyler. I was unhappy with my body and fitness goals. I had convinced myself over the course of that 30 minute run that Tyler was the reason I didn’t have my shit together. I simply didn’t have excess energy to give to a relationship - I needed to use that energy on myself. I had made up my mind to call him right after I got off the treadmill to tell him I was done. That way I could focus on myself and lift weights lol. So I got off the treadmill and told my front desk friends what I was going to do. They said ok! but what did he do wrong? I said... well nothing, I just decided I’m done. and they were like... ok? So then I took a step back and thought - it’s not like he compromises my workout schedule or changes my eating habits because he eats unhealthy.. he doesn’t even live here. He doesn’t interfere with my day to day life. I also really enjoy talking to him. He doesn’t stress me out at all. He’s actually... never done anything wrong really... in fact, I think my life might be worse off if I wasn’t talking to him. Now this, was a concept. One I had never encountered before.

Also over the course of this time, I took Syrus for 2 hikes and got to know his aunt. Which, in its own way, was connecting to Tyler. We chatted in her backyard about Tyler and his family. She told me about herself. About how she loved being independent. We bonded over this as I’m the same way. I don’t need anyone. I like to do things alone to better soak them in. She reminisced about Chad and Tyler when they were kids. We talked about dating… all of the things! I really admire what she’s done with her life. She’s so content in her cute home. She’s very connected to her inner circle - she knows everyone in the neighborhood! She treats them like family. She made me feel like family! Inviting me back. Wanting to hang out. Telling me straight up that she liked me. This made me really happy. Not because she’s Tyler’s aunt and I want to feel close to him, but because it felt nice, warm, wholesome, genuine.

Then it came time to go to New York. For some reason I was really quite nervous. The day before I was on edge. I had butterflies the whole Uber ride to his apartment. But as soon as I was with him that all subsided. 

[eightpoundsofhair]

Lapidot Week Day 2

Hello!

This is my day two sumbission for the lapidot week!

You can read it below or here on AO3

@lapidot-week

Peridot was a reasonable person. She did not jump to conclusions, she did not make assumptions based on faulty data, and she absolutely did not believe in such childhood paranoias as the paranormal. She was a scientist, after all. At least, she prided her self in being a master at the scientific method. No self respecting person of such poise as herself believed in such silly things as ghosts, or monsters, or witches.

So Peridot assured herself that she must be falling ill. That was the only viable conclusion to what she has just seen, and what her brain was concluding.

Peridot found herself leaning against her now closed door, her heart pounding and breathing erratic. She brought a shaky hand up to her forehead, and tried to determine if she had a temperature. She grumbled to herself at her seemingly normal body heat. She began to rack her brain for other symptoms of illness, headache, nausea, chills, sore throat. She found herself even more frustrated when all of the symptoms she thought of were not present in her person.

She shook her head, as she slid down her door, her heart beat obnoxiously pounding against her chest.

There had to be another conclusion.

When was the last time she read one of the Harry Potter books? She struggled to come up with a date, but figured it must have been some time last year. Unlikely.

Had she been watching conspiracy theory videos again? No, she had banned herself from doing so after getting into a fight about the moon landing online-which very much so happened by the way. Besides, she never really liked those too much anyways.

Peridot grumbled to herself again, shaking her head in her hands.

No. Her roommate was not making cups fly into the cupboards from their place in the dishwasher. She was not rinsing off a dish in water that floated above the sink. She was not sitting on the kitchen floor with towels, and pots, and pans, and dishes floating across the room. This wasn't how her roommate did her half of the chores.

Peridot chuckled to herself. This was a dream, obviously. It seemed so silly that she haven't figured it out sooner. She couldn't wait to wake up and tell her grumpy roommate about her bizarre dream.

She waited patiently, and ignored how detailed her dream room was.

Peridot grumbled after a few minutes passed, standing up and angrily kicking her bed, before regretting it, doubling over in pain at her stubbed toe.

"Goddamnit!" She exclaimed as she hopped around her room.

She let herself fall down onto her bed. She started up at the ceiling as she rubbed on her toes, the pain starting to cease.

No. It can't be real.

A knock sounded on Peridot's bedroom door, and Peridot jumped up, startled.

"Come in!" She shouted, as she sat up straight, and the door flung open.

"You okay?" Peridot's roommate, Lapis, asked, walking into the room with her hands in the pockets of her baggy, stained jeans.

Peridot nodded slowly, "Why?" She asked narrowing her eyes, pondering if Lapis knew what she had seen.

Peridot corrected herself, Lapis couldn't have known because what she had seen wasn't real.

Lapis shrugged, "Heard you scream, wanted to make sure you didn't die,"

"How considerate of you, Lazuli,"

Lapis laughed, "Yeah, I'm thoughtful like that." she walked over to a Peridot and sat down next to her on Peridot's small bed, "But seriously though, what happened?"

Peridot shrugged, embarrassed, "Stubbed my toe," she confessed.

Lapis chuckled, and swung her feet out in front of her, preparing to leave. Peridot grabbed onto her skinny arm, stopping her.

"What's up, Dot?" She asked, turning her head back. Peridot rolled her eyes at the nickname but brushed it aside, needing to ask Lapis about what had happened.

"Lapis," Peridot's voice strained, "Do you believe in magic?"

Peridot felt wildly embarrassed at first, as Lapis started at her with a blank face. But, after a moment Lapis's expression fell, and her eyes darted across the room in paranoia.

"Do you believe in magic?" Lapis asked with a forced laugh, looking away from Peridot.

"Of course not," Peridot insisted, embarrassed again for asking such a stupid question. She however, noticed Lapis's nervous looks dissipate after Peridot shot down the idea, and she began to become curious, "You didn't answer my question though,"

Lapis coughed, "What question?"

"Do you believe in magic?" Peridot insisted. As Peridot asked, Lapis's eyes darted across the room.

Lapis chuckled nervously once more, "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious," Peridot shrugged.

Lapis stared into Peridot's eyes for a long while, and Peridot felt herself blush, uncomfortable with the situation and feeling incredibly stupid, Lapis's dart of eyes and uncomfortable looks were because she was confused as to why someone so logical would ask something so stupid.

Lapis let out another uncomfortable chuckle, scratching the back of her neck, "I don't know,"

Peridot starred at Lapis expectantly, not convinced by her answer. The longer the silence lasted the more Peridot convinced herself that Lapis could preform some type of magic. Peridot quickly placed a hand on her forehead again, which once again was of a normal temperature.

Lapis scratched the back of her neck again, looking away, "I should go,"

She made to stand up, and once again Peridot grabbed her arm, and pulled her back down so she sat on Peridot's tiny bed.

"Lapis, I need you to answer me honestly. I promise I won't freak out or make fun of you,"

Lapis stared into Peridot's eyes again, her expression like a deer in the headlights. She let out another uncomfortable laugh as she stood up, "I really have to go now, Peridot,"

"Lapis!" Peridot followed Lapis out of her bedroom and down the hall, she was met with Lapis's bedroom door slamming closed. She knocked on the wood a few times, angry at the lack of an answer, but she soon gave up. She stomped over to her room and sat back down in her bed.

And that's how Peridot found herself awake at two in the morning writing a frantic blog post about her magical roommate.

She had worked herself into a state of near panic, and she couldn't talk herself out of Lapis being a witch.

She spent another hour doing research, and she found other accounts of people knowing witches who could use telepathy and teleportation, among many other things. She wanted to press Lapis further, but was convicted she'd come off as crazy, and loose her roommate whom she admired so much incredibly quickly.

She threw herself dramatically onto her bed, frustrated and exhausted, and tried to go to sleep.

**

When Peridot awoke that morning Lapis has made her breakfast, an odd and unusual gesture. Peridot gladly accepted however, tired after getting little sleep over the course of the night, begging too caught up in her thoughts to get much rest.

Lapis was silent through breakfast, and she quietly took Peridot's plate when she was finished and washed it at the sink. Peridot tried to casually watch Lapis do it, trying to act as if she wasn't intensely stating at Lapis's every move to see if the plate would float back into the cupboard.

Instead, Lapis finished washing the plate, and turned to meet Peridot's eyes. They stayed like that for a few moments before Lapis made an uncomfortable expression and walked away, rubbing her temples.

Peridot flushed, worried that her staring came off as creepy. She got some unpleasant memories of when the pair had first moved in together. A time in which Peridot learned that she couldn't not function well around pretty girls without forcing herself to not stare. She felt heavily embarrassed and she drafted a "sorry for staring at your boobs I am very gay and not used to this situation" card in her mind.

As the week went on, Lapis continued her kind gestures. Cleaning the bathroom when it was not her turn, taking out the trash unasked, vacuuming Peridot's bedroom, and the rest of the house, while Peridot showered. It was very odd, and Peridot was suspicious.

Strange things continued to happen as well. A plate that Lapis dropped and broke was mysteriously fixed and held together on its own the next day. An assumed dead house plant brought back to life. Peridot's lost hoodie, which she swore got left at the museum, returned to the laundry room after Peridot had been complaining about it.

Peridot's single frantic post about her possibly magic roommate turned into a series. A weekly "here's the weird ass shit that's happening in my house that my pretty roommate is probably doing" update.

Peridot felt like she was going mad as Lapis continued to walk on eggshells around her. The odd events were always pressed by Peridot, arguing adamantly that something weird was happening and questioning Lapis about it. Lapis tended to shrug it off, and made sure to be extra nice to Peridot the next day.

Suddenly, the stick hung prettily above Lapis's door was not merely aesthetic, but a magic wand. Or the crystals and old books that littered Lapis's room were no longer just collections, but magical items.

Peridot clicked her pen, sitting at her desk on a cloudy October day.

She prided herself on being logical, on being incredibly intelligent and a master at the scientific method. She was reasonable, and based conclusions on data, not fantasies.

She scribbled into her notebook, writing a list of evidence to conclude that Lapis was a witch.

Initial viewing of floating plates.

Suspicious behavior.

Fixing of broken things immediately.

Stereotypically "witchy" things in Lapis's room.

Refusal to talk about magic.

She read through her list, and added a few more observations before she flipped to a new page.

She titled it 'experiment number one'.

[caffeineivore]

Margarita

Fic, written for @nelwynp‘s nuptials. Part of... not quite a series, as the stories are not precisely related to each other, but... we can call it a series. Senshi/shitennou, AU Angst, Crime, Drinks. Depending on my motivation/level of laziness, I may or may not hunt up and post up the other fics in this... “series”. 

The Blood Pact

I am not perfect.

I am sometimes selfish. Occasionally self destructive.

And prone to very brief, yet severe, spells of sadness.

But I would fight until every bone in my body was broken to protect you.

That's a promise.

--- Beau Taplin

*-*

Nondescript jeans, straight-leg and medium wash, ancient Adidas, and a green University of Miami sweatshirt, autumn-leaf-auburn curls poking out underneath the hood. Marisa Cruz's dossier states that she's a recent grad, who'd attended on a basketball scholarship and turned twenty-two only a month ago, but right now, her hands are clenched in her lap, knuckles white, and if she bites her lower lip any harder, she'd draw blood. She has the height and statuesque build of an athlete, but that only emphasizes her fragility as she sits bolt-upright across from him as the small airplane makes its way from Florida towards Washington, DC. Nico can't blame her, though, for the silence or the nerves. This particular flight is never a happy one for any who make it.

“Want something to eat, or drink?”

“No. No, thank you.” Marisa's fists clench even tighter. The shadows underneath her green eyes are bruise-purple as she raises her gaze briefly to his face, a grimacing smile upon her own. “I hate flying.”

Nico doesn't see the point of mincing words, but returns her forced smile with an uncharacteristically-gentle one of his own. “I'll stock you up on Dramamine, then. Unfortunately, you're going to have to get used to this.”

She sighs and closes her eyes, a shuddering breath escaping. “I'm going to have to get used to a lot of things.”

A new home, a new phone number and email address, a new name on a new driver's license and a new social security number. Twenty-four-hour protection. Waking up sweating and screaming, gunshots echoing in her subconscious, the blood-spattered faces of her parents frozen in death, branded to the insides of her eyelids. A single tear tracks its way down one pale cheek, almost as though she has yet to completely cry herself dry.

Nico tucks the dossier away and reaches the short distance across to lay one hand on her tightly balled ones, and keeps it there until he feels her fingers relax-- roughly ten seconds before the plane begins its descent.

*-*

Marisa Cruz attends the orientation for joining the Witness Protection Program with a stoic face as the details of her new life are explained to her. She will relocate and enroll in grad-level classes in a completely different field than her undergraduate studies. At no point is she to contact any of her old friends and any remaining family members. In time, she will be expected to testify against the drug cartel boss who had murdered her parents, after which she will disappear.

It's all old hat to Nico, but something about her-- fragile and solitary and intrepid as a wild rose blooming amidst a mess of thorns-- stirs an undefinable feeling of tenderness that he's certainly not accustomed to feeling. Later, they sit in the windowless room, drinking cokes from a vending machine, and he smiles at her.

“Pick a name that's going to be easy for you to remember. Some people like to use their same initials.”

She finishes her soft drink. The highly-identifying University of Miami sweatshirt is gone, and one pink tank top strap slips down her shoulder as she wings the empty can into the wastebasket across the room with impressive accuracy. Nico's eyes trace the graceful movement for a moment, but then meets her emerald gaze.

“My grandmother's name was Marcela, though my grandfather always called her Marcelita. I think I can go with that. Marcelita Cross. Maybe Lita for short. Will that do?”

“Perfect. Lita Cross, my name is Nico Hernandez, the US Marshal assigned to your protection.” His big hand swallows her smaller one, and finally, finally, she cracks a faint smile over their clasped hands. “It's nice to meet you.”

*-*

Despite the Dramamine, Marisa Cruz-- now Lita Cross, is still tense and white-knuckled in the seat across from him during the flight out of Washington, so Nico fills the silence with his own words.

“So, what did you go to school for? Aside from basketball, obviously.”

“Electrical Engineering, if you'll believe it. I was gonna go work in Silicon Valley like all the cool kids, retire by the age of thirty-five with a gazillion dollars, or something.” There's a hint of an ironic smile on her lips, and that's better than nothing, so Nico smiles back.

“Eh, it's overrated. I'm from California, originally, and the cost of living is outrageous out there. When I came out to Virginia at the start of my career and got my first apartment-- a decently sized one-bedroom, too, in Crystal City-- I almost wept with joy. My apartment in Cali was about the size of a shoebox, and the rent was triple.” His smile widens and he adds a cheeky wink. “Naturally, being a shallow asshole, I do miss the beaches. And burritos. And In-N-Out.”

“Where did you go to school, then?”

“Stanford. I was an athletic scholarship kid, too,” he reaches over and takes her hands, gently pries her fists open. “Track and field, though. Mainly, it was cool because I can say that I went to the same school as Dana Scully from the X-Files, who holds the distinction of being the first woman I loved. Aside from my mother and sisters, that is. I think I have a weakness for tomboyish redheads.”

She rolls her eyes, but her fingers relax fractionally in his as the sunlight streaming in through the airplane window glows golden against her ruddy hair.

*-*

Lita Cross attends a different school than Marisa Cruz had, and lives in a cozy two-bedroom apartment on campus with a roommate whom all of her new female classmates have agreed upon as man-candy of the best tall-dark-and-handsome variety. She has no social media of any kind. She's enrolled in the culinary arts program, and wears her bark-brown hair in a ladylike ponytail and knee-length dresses that show off beautifully toned, tanned legs. She's friendly enough with the other students and is known to like flowers and chick flicks.

The nightmares wake her up more often than not in the beginning, and in the first, agonizing weeks, several times a week, she'd shoot up in her bed, cold sweat matting her hair in dark streaks to her neck and a scream choking in her throat, shivering despite the southern warmth as a large male body bursts into her room and silently holds her as she sobs, dark eyes bleak and sympathetic and endlessly patient as they wait for her to finally drop from exhaustion. She sleeps with the lights on and feels ironically ashamed at the taxpayer dollars that went, every month, towards her astronomical electric bill.

It is about a month and a half into their acquaintance that Nico hits upon a solution.

A few nights a week, always during the wee small hours, the two of them go to the twenty-four-hour gym an hour's drive off-campus and play an exhilarating and sweaty hour of one-on-one basketball in a deserted indoor court, with nothing but the fluorescent lights overhead bearing witness. They always get home at roughly three in the morning, and then follow up the basketball with a kickboxing lesson in the living room, and then, more often than not, scrambled eggs hastily devoured over the kitchen counter before they'd had the chance to cool down from smoking. These nights would always be before days that she didn't have any morning classes, and it would be approaching dawn when both of them would finally crash, fully dressed, in her bed out of sheer exhaustion.

Eventually, in an organic, unplanned progression, he sort of abandons his own bedroom altogether. It's not sexual-- they're always dressed and nobody's hands wander. She just sleeps better with a warm, muscular, protective body lying in between her and the bedroom door.

In the locked drawer of the nightstand on her side of that bed is the one photograph of her parents that she was allowed to keep. He pretends not to know that it's there and always looks away when she takes it out.

In the locked drawer of the nightstand on his side of that bed is a loaded Glock 22. She pretends not to know that it's there and always looks away when he takes it out.

*-*

Lita finds herself enjoying culinary school more than she thought she would. The long hours on her feet don't faze her, and she finds it a rather fascinating duality of precision and creativity. She often brings home leftovers and experiments of all kinds, some more successful than others. Nico democratically and enthusiastically demolishes all of them, but has an especial fondness for desserts, particularly cookies.

“I don't know why you're not like, six hundred pounds,” she teases him one evening, as they watch a football game on TV and he plows his way through a generous serving of coq au vin and half a dozen chocolate macarons. There's a crumb by his mouth, and she reaches across the couch to swipe at it just as the game cuts to halftime and commercials. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees him set down his plate, and then his hand-- large, tanned, surprisingly elegant despite the roughness of his fingers, snags her wrist, his touch warm and achingly gentle.

“Exercise and good clean living,” Nico says lightly. “PT for the job is no joke, at least to the guy who trained me. Guy by the name of Elias Priest. Had one of those faces and smiles like a Catholic saint, but appearances can be deceiving, you know?”

She traces her fingertip over the crumb by his mouth, and his skin is warm like the air in a Thanksgiving kitchen. Stubble is coming in, brushing his chin and jaw with sand-papery dark brown. He's a man's man and loves sports and documentaries and napping on the couch, but he listens to everything she says-- her fears, her memories both happy and horrible, her pet peeves and stupid things she's seen on the internet-- like his investment in her life extends far beyond keeping her breathing until the court date. He had taught her how to throw a punch and use a taser, and holds her in her sleep, even though she keeps the lights on and tosses and turns. She doesn't realize that she's leaned forward until suddenly she can count every one of his eyelashes, which have no right to be as long and dark as they are, but he's the one to bend his head. Firm lips brush against her hair, then press against her forehead, and she's sure that she's blushing wildly despite the innocuousness of the touch. It's not where she'd like it to be, the sudden thought occurs to her, though she'd never, ever admit that aloud. He smells like chocolate and her girly-smelling fabric softener, though it's incredibly different on him.

The game on TV is well into the third quarter before she manages to turn her attention back to it, but somehow, that hand around her wrist doesn't leave, and his fingers entwine with hers.

*-*

The driver's license bearing the name Marcelita Cross is issued by the State of Georgia as opposed to Florida, and states that the bearer's birthday is the 12th of May, so the fifth of December that year dawns uneventfully like any other day. Lita comes home to the distinctive grinding sound of the blender whirring away in the kitchen, and curiously goes to investigate.

Nico smiles as she walks in, even as he pours something pale green and frothy into two cocktail glasses rimmed with salt. “All in all, we can say this is just another day, yeah?” He has a dimple in his right cheek but not his left when he grins, and there's a small gift box somewhat clumsily wrapped in floral gift-wrap on the counter next to a grocery-store bouquet of flowers in a plain white vase. “I made margaritas. They're the only girly drink I know how to make, I'm afraid-- I'm more of a beer kind of guy.”

Shocked green eyes meet his dark ones, and her breath catches in her throat. Wordlessly, she reaches for the drink, but her cheeks flush even before she takes a sip, and her fingers tremble as they carefully unwrap the box. Nestled inside against snow-white satin is a pair of earrings shaped like pink rosebuds. She puts them on, and smiles tremulously at the gleam of approval in Nico's eyes. She drains her glass and half of a second one before she finds the courage to step closer to him-- Nico-the-protector is so much easier to understand than Nico-the-closest-friend-and-more-- but when she leans up to press her lips against that solitary dimple and he wraps his strong arms around her like it's the simplest thing in the world, it's the most perfect thing she's felt.

And yet, in some strange and subtle way, it seems to herald yet another change in her life. A quickening thrill. Elation and despair intertwined. The warmth of his body cradling hers and the dread of the trial, set to begin in a month.

A beginning. An end. The beginning of the end.

It's as though Nico feels it too, though, because all of the sudden, he sets down his barely-touched drink with a quiet clack and she feels him bury his face in her hair, and his breath is hot but not quite even against her neck.

“Do you know, I've been doing this for quite some time? Most people who go into witness protection are criminals who turn informant. Kind of sleazy types-- the villain who helps the good guys bring down the bigger villain, if you will.” He pulls back just enough to look into her eyes, and the shine in them, so different from the numb flatness of their first meeting, causes his breath to hitch. “Not like you. No one's ever been like you.”

There's no good that can come out of this conversation-- it ends with a one-way plane ticket to some small town in Wisconsin that she's never even heard of before, where the name Marisa Cruz means nothing to anybody, and life will go on, perhaps peacefully and uneventfully but in sepia-toned anonymity and solitude. All at once, for the first time in months, her eyes fill with tears, and she burrows back into his arms as they start falling. He rubs her back and rocks gently and there's probably something ridiculously incongruous about the tableau-- fruity tropical drinks on a cheap Formica counter, a jewelry box, a weeping young woman with copper roots showing under her tousled brunette hair, a dark-haired man holding her protectively, a gun holstered at his side. And maybe it's because she presses her wet cheek against his stubbly one, close enough that he can taste tequila and lime on her breath, or maybe it's because her hands are clenched white-knuckled again, this time around fistfuls of his shirt, and he knows that in the morning there will be dark-purple shadows underneath her eyes again, but a moment later they're kissing, devouring each other, and he sinks his grip into her hair and she sinks hers into his heart and both of their mouths taste like salt—margarita and tears.

Nico pulls back first, and his eyes blaze like dark fire as he stares down at her. “We can't, not like this.” His voice sounds as though he'd swallowed something a lot rougher than citrusy cocktail, and in his eyes, Lita reads an echo of her own despair. “I'm falling in love with you, but I can't compromise your safety. If something were to happen to you, it would kill me.” His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, his chest rises as he takes a ragged breath. “I'll come back for you, though. Someday, when you're safe, and this is all over. I swear that, on my life.”

The day's date means absolutely nothing, according to all of Marcelita Cross's documents, but a birthday is a year older and wiser, no matter what anyone says. And so she nods, slowly, gingerly, with the meticulous care of someone trying not to break. She leans up, and when her lips meet his this time they're soft and sweet and slow as a requiem. They don't break apart until they need to breathe, and then, deliberately, she finishes her second drink and his, letting the alcohol cushion the blow to come.

She's dimly aware of him carrying her to bed, then lying down next to her, holding her close under the covers. But she wakes up the next morning alone, and when she walks into the living room, there's a different marshal. A sharp-eyed blonde with a pixie crop who introduces herself as Harper Tennyson and whose sardonic smirk doesn't at all resemble Nico's smile. But at least Harper asks no questions, and lets her cry herself to sleep in peace that night.

She doesn't see or hear from Nico again, not when the trial is finally over, not when she completes her culinary program, not when she gets that one-way plane ticket. But at the oddest times in the subsequent years, she'd receive a dozen pink roses from the local florist. They match her favourite earrings perfectly.

*-*

The town of Menomonie, Wisconsin, dawns cold and snowy on the fifth of December, and Lita Cross quietly bids farewell to her coworkers at the restaurant where she'd been working for the past six months as the pastry chef and makes the short trek to the local neighbourhood bar. It's a quiet weekday night, and she seats herself at a small table in the back, content to watch a basketball game in silent progress on the TV screens.

Marisa Cruz would have turned twenty-seven today, had she still existed.

A cheery cocktail waitress walks over to her table, and sets down a pale green drink in a distinctive glass, and Lita's head snaps up in surprise.

“I didn't order anything.”

“Oh, it's from that gentleman over there. He said to tell you he really likes your earrings.” The waitress gestures a broad back at the other side of the bar, sculpted shoulders brushed with dark hair slightly too long, and as Lita watches, wide-eyed, everything else around them seems to stand still as he turns around, one dimple in his right cheek as he slowly walks over. He's wearing a black pea coat and jeans and looks nothing like a US marshal as he reaches her table, but it's the same warm hands, the same smile, and when he wraps his fingers around hers, it's like everything slowly falling into place with the same quiet loveliness as the snow outside.

“What are you doing here?” Lita manages to ask in a surprisingly steady voice. Her testimony at the trial of the cartel kingpin years ago had resulted in a conviction and she had been out of true danger for quite some time, but just now, she felt brave enough to take on the whole wide world.

“I moved out here a few months ago. You know why I'm here,” Nico tips her face up, staring at her as though unable to get his fill of her face. His stubbly cheek presses against her smooth one as he whispers into her ear. “Happy birthday, love.”

She picks up the glass that the waitress had left on the table and takes a sip, tasting icy, salty-sweetness on her tongue, and clenches her fingers around fistfuls of his coat, and grins. “Do I get a present?”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small, clumsily-wrapped jewelry box in floral paper, and the hint of nerves in his eyes gives away precisely what might be in the box. “Why don't you open it and see?”

[flynnardkuwata]

Remember Noodle’s Secret Lover?  Part 1/? (Chapters 1-3)

So, the topic of bad fanfiction came up in that one Gorillaz fandom Discord server, and I was reminded of just how much Gorillazbiggestfan’s magnum opus still amuses me to this day.  And after a little thinking, I decided “Y’know what?  I don’t have the energy to write an entire sporking again, but I could do a sort of chapter(s)-by-chapter(s) revisiting of it!”  Because seriously, it’s just too good to be forgotten; I really do consider this the fandom’s version of My Immortal.

*Now, I think one reason why this fic not getting the attention such a reputation should warrant (aside from Gorillaz being a small-ish fandom) is because the first three chapters are so boring.  See, in My Immortal, you're whapped with a sack full of preposterous and irreverent bullshit right off the bat: we get a long-ass introduction of an over-the-top Sue (and her outrageous clothing choices), Draco in Leather Baggy Black Skater Pants takes her on a date to a Good Charlotte concert in Hogsmeade, and then they fuck in the Forbidden Forest before being memetically interrupted by Dumbledore with a headache.  This story, meanwhile, has no such insanity to hook the reader in.  It starts out as your run-of-the-mill “2Nu plus an OC shipper on deck” tale, and it stays that way long enough to bore away most readers.

*Oh, and when first sporking this thing, I also found it rather amusing that the author was helped by her friend, D.D.Darkwriter - whom a certain few might recall penned another fic I sporked.  I might mention that while it isn’t nearly as batshit as this particular tale, Finding Fate is still quite enjoyably bad, and so I recommend that one as well.

*So the artifact premise of this fic is essentially an Operation Jealousy plotline.  Noodle, who is now of legal age, tries to jump 2D one night after having nursed a crush on him for years, but when he rejects her sudden advances, she and her roommate Kitty (who was introduced in a previous story the author has written, which I have not yet read) conspire to pretend to be in a relationship and thus draw his attention.  The reader might find themself wondering why Noodle would even care so much about being with some guy when she's likely well-aware of how sketchy the relationship would look, let alone why she’d turn to such a juvenile method of winning his affections; but other than that, this fic is quite unspectacular so far.

*Already, you will notice that there’s a lot wrong with the fic mechanically - shoddy spelling, poor punctuation, a tendency towards muddled wording, etc.   But these problems are common to all badfic, and so I will see little reason to mention them except in certain moments.

*While it isn’t until next chapter that Kitty begins to warp the story around herself (as Sues do), this chapter does give us a small hint of things to come - when she comforts Noodle by telling her to “stop crying [her] eyes are too beautiful for that,” Noodle responds straight away by commenting on the beauty of Kitty’s own eyes (which are green).  It’s indicated later that the author didn’t know Noodle’s eyes were also supposed to be green (which is a pretty understandable mistake in this fandom), so I’m not gonna chalk this down to Kitty attempting to ape/one-up Noodle’s characteristics; all the same, though, this does ring odd to me considering all that happens later...

*As it turns out, 2D is in fact outside their room and eavesdropping on the conversation!  This has no real effect on the plot, however, (aside from spurring another event, which turns out to be pointless, and rendering the fic’s title meaningless - the “secret lover” is no longer a secret) so this reveal is devoid of tension.  He tells himself he’s not gonna let their shenanigans get to him through a few badly-worded sentences (which won’t entirely turn out to be true), and then he just toddles back to his room to sleep.

*Then Chapter One just sort of ends with Noodle and Kitty snuggling up together for warmth.  A riveting first installment, no doubt, but bear with me and you’re gonna start to see some real shit.  

*Chapter Two starts with Noodle waking up and feeling weird because they’re both in their undies (anyone else find it odd that their clothes are off, if they’re just pretending to be together in public?).  She gets up and starts a shower, the steam from which somehow wakes Kitty as well (no, seriously, it’s explicitly stated that the steam is what wakes her...I don’t think steam works that way), and then Kitty comes in and decides to join her for reasons.  

*Kitty is stated to be wearing a halter top, which I mention because the author inserts a parenthetical note explaining that it is a “half-shirt” - or, rather, a “half-shit.”  I am immature. XD

*So we get a showering scene featuring awkward and repetitive descriptions of the women washing themselves and each other, with Noodle becoming a little hot and bothered by the situation.  While it’s later revealed - or should I say retconned - that she’s had a thing for Kitty as well, it is soon stated outright that their interest in each other’s bodies is purely aesthetic; this discrepancy is probably explained by said reveal actually being a retcon.

*The first of Kitty’s physical traits that really stands out as Sue-ish is her long white hair, which she always keeps in two ponytails.  This resemblance to Princess Yue is never explained, though it is later shown that her mother has inexplicably weird hair as well - and this is a universe where, among other things, Lamarck Was Right.  Bad genetics is probably the least of everything wrong with Kitty, so I won’t harp on it too much.

*Then they go downstairs to have breakfast, but where are all the others?  A clumsy cut to 2D’s room tells us the answer: he’s called the other two in for a meeting to discuss his Very Important Findings.  Because Russel is typically portrayed as an over-reactionary Angry Black Man in pre-2014 Gorillaz fic (among other rather unfavorable things), he “bellow[s]” about how this is “the most ridiculous thing [he] ever heard!”, and then we find out Kitty’s connection to Gorillaz canon: she is, according to this story, Russel’s sister!  Russ randomly lauds her for being someone who loves to help people with their problems (a trait we never really see evidence for, of course), and then...that’s it, that’s the scene.  Told you it was pointless.  

*Back to Noodle and Kitty in “NOODEL’S ROOM,” where they decide that if they’re gonna pretend to be a couple, they have to actually do things, if you know what I mean. >:3 Though in all seriousness, no they don’t; they’re behind closed doors, where no one’s gonna be watching...

*...or WILL they?  We cut straight back to 2D and Murdoc, who hear makeout noises coming from Noodle’s room, and they open the door to catch them in the act!  DUN DUN DUN...oh wait, nothing’s actually gonna come of this.  My bad.

*Chapter Three (”DID YOU SEE THAT?”) begins with the boys losing their shit over the apparent fact that Noodle and Kitty are together (seriously, I doubt a bunch like the Gorillaz would even bat eyes if one of their members was in a not-straight relationship, even back in the 2000s when gay marriage was a hot-button issue), and among other things, we’re given a bit of TMI about how Murdoc in particular reacted (which would be rather in-character for him, to be honest, if he wasn’t completely gobsmacked by the sight of girls kissing).  

*For some reason, Kitty and Noodle decide to have breakfast again, and they open the door to Murdoc, who isn’t even trying to hide his boner.  In front of Noodle?  Oh, I think not.

*“You must be really happy to see me!”  Aside from how painful that line was, this too predicts the actions we’ll soon see Kitty take.  More on that in the next part.

*So, they have a really cutesy time cooking breakfast (during which we see signs of Murdoc becoming uncharacteristically smitten with Kitty), and they they all trot off to watch a movie together as the chapter ends.  So far, the fic is boring and full of contrivances meant to provoke drama (all of them failing), but it’s rather inoffensive, right?  What could such a fic do to earn being hailed as the new My Immortal? *sighs* Wait till the next part, and you shall begin to see.

[huffletiika]

Hello, stranger

GASTINA / UNIVERSITY AU

There’s a new app at the campus that allows you to chat with some other student it matches you with according to your hobbies and likes. Nina logs in this app to prove Luna wrong and ends up talking all night long with a very interesting stranger. Little she knows this guy is Gaston, her high school crush, who is also Matteo’s (Luna’s boyfriend) best friend.

So, I know time has passed, but I have been relly bussy lately with so many things to write, I just let this aside. But well, here is the second part of my Gastina AU, hope you like it. Also, didn’t make proof reading, sorry. It has a lot of Gastteo, some Lutteo, and a mention of Simbar xD!

[Other Chapters]

CHAPTER 2 - ABOUT ANNOYING BEST FRIENDS AND DEPRIVED SLEEP HOURS

“You look like shit” said his best friend walking to the counter, sitting in front of him, and leaving a cup of coffee for him to take. “Don’t tell me you stayed awake all night studying for the test, because I remember you told me yesterday that it was a ‘piece of cake’ when I offered my help”.

Gastón sighed, before taking the cup in his hands.

He felt so tired he couldn’t even keep his own body straight, his eyes were closing all the time as if they weighted one hundred pounds, and the concert of yawns has been live since he had to leave his bedroom to go to the kitchen.

“You had a date” he reminded him. “And, anyway, it IS a piece of cake... I didn’t stay awake because of that” He took a sip of his coffee, and smiled with relief.

He hasn’t been able to sleep, he tried to do it, but when he closed his eyes he began to think about the conversation he had had with Felicity, and to ramble about her identity. He didn’t know all the girls studying in the university, but knew a good number of these, and although he tried to put the words of Felicity in each of them, he couldn’t find any match.

“Thanks for the coffee, by the way”. He added, looking to his friend with a smile on his face.

“You’re welcome” Matteo said with a grin. “So, if you weren’t studying for the test, why did you stay awake all night? You look like you really needed those sleep hours” He added, taking a bite of his breakfast.

“I was talking with someone” He answered, and saw the knowing smile growing on his friends face.

Oh no, here we go again.

“Oh! Now that I remember, I came back from my date with Luna and heard some laughing coming from your room” he said, “everything makes sense now, Economic Theory couldn’t be so fun” he added, teasing.

“You like Maths” he reminded him.

“Yeah… but you don’t, buddy” his friend replied. “The only reason you are on Economic Sciences is because your parents think Literature is not a making-money degree, and because you are the only one who will take care of the family business when they are too old for it”.

He made a grimace.

Yeah, his parents weren’t in a good mood when he told them he wanted to study literature. ‘Are you joking?’ his dad had asked him immediately, and her mom’s face was icy. That later, came with a lot of words about why that would be a bad idea, because ‘you can read and learn that stuff by yourself, that is a hobby, not a career’ and ‘you will one day heritage the family company, how could we leave all our hard work to someone who is not our son?’ that, followed with a ‘I won’t pay for a literature degree’ that sent him directly to the Economy faculty.

“Anyway,” Matteo changed the topic. “Who is the girl you were talking with?”

“How do you know it was a girl? I could be talking with… I don’t know, some guy from one of my elective classes.” He replied, and Matteo openly smiled.

“Because, my dear friend, I would have known if you were cheating on me” the Italian answered, full of himself. “Who is the girl? Do I know her?”

“No, I mean… I don’t know… I don’t even know if I know her myself” he answered, and Matteo looked at him, really confused.

“Explain yourself, because I don’t get it”.

“Ok, long story short, yesterday I heard to some guys at the cafeteria talking about this new app that was created on the campus to meet people, is like a random chat that connects you with other person who have similar hobbies and tastes as you.” He explained, after taking a sip of his coffee. He needs his caffeine, man.  “And well, you know I don’t usually meet people with whom to chat about books and video games and…”

“All your nerdy stuff, yeah” Matteo interrupted, and laughed when he saw Gastón frowning at him. “Sorry, go ahead”.

Gastón sighed.

“Well, I thought it would be nice to give it a try, so I downloaded it… and ended up talking with this girl whose username was Felicity, and even if at the beginning it was a little awkward, we then started to connect, and were talking about a lot of things until very late. I didn’t even noticed the time had passed, until she pointed that out” he explained.

“Awe, you fell in love” His best friend mocked.

“I didn’t…! I mean, I just met her. I don’t even know how she looks”.

“That’s easy to know, what’s her real name? I can search for it on the University’s database”. His friend offered, and he made a grin.

“I didn’t ask her her name, I didn’t think about doing it”.

Matteo laughed.

“Are you sure it’s a girl? I mean, it could be an old fat hairy guy with pedophile inclinations, or worst, some teacher”. He was having the time of his life.

“It’s a girl, I’m sure”. Gastón replied, without hesitation.

“If you say so…” Matteo looked at him amused, before drinking some of his own coffee. “Well, if we are not going to continue the mysterious girl topic, and you are free next Friday, can I ask you a favor?”

Gastón knew his friend enough to know nothing good could come after those words, but he was so curious about what Matteo was going to ask, he just sighed.

“What can I do for you?” he asked.

“Well, you know, I’ve been dating Luna for a couple of months”

“Congratulations”

“Thank you”. He didn’t mind being interrupted, he was even smiling. Gastón never thought to see his best friend so happy about a girl. “Well, she wants me to go to this birthday dinner at her aunt’s, and I know Ambar will be there, and it’s going to be awkward even if she is now dating the guitarist guy, so I need some reinforcement by my side as I don’t know much Luna’s friends.”

“You want me to go?” he interrupted him, and his friend nodded. “But its Luna’s birthday, I mean, she is really nice but I don’t know her that much”. He didn’t want to be that kind of person who goes to a party without being invited.

“I asked her about it, and she said it was fine.” He replied. “Come on, buddy, it will be fun, and I will pay you for it… I can make your next algebra paper-work” he put his very convincing pretty please face, and Gastón rolled his eyes before accepting. Only his best friend would start dating the niece of his ex-girlfriend’s godmother. 

Thinking that phrase felt like a hell of a tongue twister.  

“And Luna has a friend who studies literature, maybe you can get along with her, talk about your nerdy stuff” Matteo winked.

“Are you talking about Nina? Because I’m pretty sure she hates me” Gastón replied, rolling his eyes.

“Why would she hate you?”

“I don’t know, but she always ignores me, or runs away in the exact moment we meet her and Luna on the campus, last time it was even ridiculous, she said she was going to look for a book in the library, but she had it on her hands.” He snorted. “I know it was the book she said, because I was going to ask her about it before she invented that dumb excuse”. He added.

“Luna told me she is shy” Matteo tried to justify the girl’s behavior.

“Yeah, but she talks to you normally, I have seen you”. He rolled his eyes. “She hates me, I tell ya”.

“Well, you could try to ask her about it in the party” his friend suggested, and he shrugged, before finishing his coffee and saying goodbye.

He had a test to do.

Felicity: Hi, are you there?

He was looking at his phone, trying to decide if he should or not write to Felicity, when the message popped up on his screen, surprising him.

Roller Track: I am, indeed. –he typed. -How are you, stranger?  How was your day?

He waited for a long minute before her answer appeared.

Felicity: It was ok, I guess. How was yours? Did you get to stay awake during your test? I have been worried about it all day.

He felt the smile softly growing on his own face.

Roller Track: Luckily enough, I did. My roommate gave me coffee this morning, and I got to sleep when I arrived home after the test.

Felicity: And the test? Was it hard?

Her worries for him were making his chest feel warmer.

Roller Track: All fine, it was the easiest, I’m sure I got a good grade. And you? Did you get to meet on the library with your classmates? Did you prepare your presentation?

Felicity: Yes, we did. Do you want to read something funny? I thought I was late, but I was the first to arrive to the meeting, all my classmates were late, but we got everything done. The only problem will be the day of the presentation.

He frowned.

Roller Track: Why?

He saw her writing something, and then erasing it to start again. He had never been that focused on those stupid dots at the corner of the screen before.

Felicity: Because our teacher wants us all to participate in the presentation, and I’m not that good when talking in public, I feel like I will have a panic attack being there, in front of all my classmates.

Gastón read the words on his screen twice, and felt a new kind of empathy for this girl growing on him, like if he knew her from before.

Roller Track: Hey! I’ve been there. When I was a child I had scenic panic too, once I had this spelling bee contest, and I totally froze. –he wrote. –because of that, I thought I wouldn’t be able to do anything like that without embarrassing myself, so when my best friend suggested me to try for the school’s musical I thought it would be the worst idea ever, but then I gave it a try, and it was amazing.

He had never told that story to anyone, but he felt he could trust in her.

Felicity: Were you the lead?

He read those words and laughed.

Roller Track: Nah, my best friend and his girlfriend from that time were always the lead, no one could beat them on that, but I got a solo, the drama teacher liked my singing voice and wrote a song just for me to sing.

Felicity: Impressive.

Roller Track: I know. –he smiled. –but hey! We were talking about your presentation, and my story had a moral. I’m pretty sure you will nail it, just remember the guy who froze on his spelling bee contest but got to sing on a school musical, you just have to focus on one person, and talk to him or her. Maybe a friend, as teachers are usually intimidating, I always try to avoid their sight.

He pressed sent, and waited for her answer, getting a little be desperate when it didn’t come as fast as he wanted.

Felicity: Thank you. –she wrote, after the longest couple of minutes of his life. –I have to go, I must meet with my best friend, she wants me to go with her to buy some things, and I don’t want her to think I forgot about it.

His smile faded.

Roller Track: It’s ok. –he wrote. –Go with your friend, enjoy your afternoon, I’ll be fine by my own.

Felicity: Are you sure?

Roller Track: Yeah! don’t worry about me, little stranger. –Her concern made him recover his smile. –I have to do some homework, anyway.

Felicity: Ok. Talk to you later?

Roller Track: Yeah, I won’t go anywhere. –He finally wrote, and after their goodbyes he let his phone by him side on the mattress, and closed his eyes.

He lied, he didn’t have any work to do, but he didn’t want her to feel bad for letting him and going to meet her friend to go shopping. Who would she be? Again, a conversation between the two of them had ended, and he didn’t get her name. He didn’t even thought about asking her about it, maybe this anonymous thing was what made things so easy, there was no need to rush things.

[boss-the-goofball]

Superhero Academy Dropout

I finally finished this thing. Pretty much more background on Tom and Marie.

Hope you enjoy this!

“Ok team, do you know the plan?” The leader of Tom’s group asked. If Tom was to describe her, he would honestly say she was a stick in the mud rule follower. With her light blonde hair tied up in a tight bun, safety goggles resting neatly on her perfectly clean and pale face. Her so called perfection always pissed the young man off.

“Tom and I are to distract the villain and his assistant while you go rescue the hostage. Once the hostage is secure,” the other teammate said, a person whom Tom saw as a little more interesting than the leader. With their hair shaved on one side, the longer part a vibrant red that contrasts with the brown of the shaved side, and goggles around their neck instead of in the proper place.

“I make us a portal to get out of there,” Tom said with resignation. His own goggles were resting atop his head and seemed a bit lopsided. He honestly found this plan to be overly complex, courtesy of the team leader. If it were up to him, he would have just teleported to where the hostage was and got out of there without the risk of hurting anyone.

“The enemy will be expecting that Tom!” Was the response he was met with when he gave the suggestion. Though in truth he knew the leader only said that because she wanted all of the glory from rescuing the hostage. Something very typical of leaders, from Tom’s observations.

Nodding, the leader activated her powers and turned invisible. “Wait for my signal,” she whispered. Tom assumed she had left the room as he and his partner waited for the signal. He looked around the area with suspicion, wondering if perhaps explaining the entire plan in full was a good idea.

“She just wants to make sure there are no deviations from the plan, you know how she gets,” his teammate said in hopes of reassuring Tom. He could tell that the other hero held some reservations of their own, but he figured they put it all aside.

Getting up when an alarm went off, Tom’s teammate gave him a smile. “That’s our cue,” they whispered, running straight towards the door and ripping it off of the hinges. They then barreled in to begin the attack against the villain.

When Tom slipped in afterwards, he blinked at the sight of the team leader covered in flour. “A trap,” he said with realization, looking down to his belt to find his rings being pulled off by some magnetic force. “Shit.”

“Stick to the plan Tom!” the voice of the team leader screamed in his head, causing the male to cringe. He really hated telepathy sometimes. He then glanced at his surroundings to find that the villain probably hired some henchmen, as Tom found himself and his team to be surrounded.

Looking up to the magnet holding his rings and the other weapons his team brought, Tom realized that there was no other choice.

“Tom, I said stick to the plan!” The leader shouted in his head, causing Tom to glare at her with annoyance.

“Fuck the plan,” he said, teleporting to where he knew the hostage was located. Lifting the captive up, Tom teleported out of the building. He knew his team could fend for themselves, all that matters was that the objective was completed.

Soon the surrounding area turned a bright red and the cityscape vanished, the hostage a simple dummy in Tom’s arms. His rings had fallen to the ground and the goons that were surrounding his team also disappeared.

Soon the door opened and the instructor walked in the chamber. Adjusting her glasses, she looked over her tablet. “You may have completed the objective, but you still failed on all other accounts. Discussing the plan out loud where the enemy can hear you takes the points Mr. Planter earned for completing the objective,” she began before turning her full attention to Tom.

“You disregarded direct orders from your team leader and abandoned your team in the middle of a battle. Yes you rescued the hostage, but you were supposed to do it as a team. I’m afraid you all fail your examination,” she concluded, tapping on her tablet before turning towards the door. “Send in the next group.”

As Tom walked out, he gave his team a guilty smile. “Sorry,” he said with a shrug.

Shoving him to the ground, the leader glared at him. “I hope you’re fucking happy, cause this right here is all I got. If I flunk out because of you, then I will make sure the rest of your life will go to shit,” she hissed out, turning and storming off.

“She’ll get over it,” the other teammate said, helping Tom up with a gentle smile. “I should get going, better study to make up for that failure and all.”

Watching as they left, Tom sighed sadly before going down the corridor. He then looked up and flushed at the sight of a young woman with long brown hair tied up in a braid. Giving a sheepish smile, he went up to the shorter woman. “Hey Marie,” he greeted.

“How did you exam go? I wish I could have been there for you, but you know how it goes,” Marie asked, grabbing Tom’s hand with pure excitement.

Biting the inside of his cheek, Tom debated on how he should explain the failure. Letting out a sigh, he knew he might as well rip the bandage off quickly. “We failed because I refused to follow simple orders,” he said, closing his eyes and waiting for his girlfriend to berate him.

“I’m sorry. At least that wasn’t your final test!” Marie said in hopes of being encouraging, pulling the taller male down onto a bench and curling up against him.

“That’s the thing, it was my final test. I don’t know, maybe I’m just not cut out to be a superhero,” Tom sighed, looking up at the ceiling.

“Thomas Planter, don’t say things like that! Listen, you’re a good person and that’s all you need to be a hero in my book,” Marie lectured, pulling his face down so he was looking at her. “I get it, the academy is really strict about training. However, sometimes what you need isn’t formal training.”

Laughing, Tom wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. “Says the star pupil,” He teased, pressing a kiss against her forehead.

“Oh please, my grades are average at best and you know it,” Marie said, leaning up and playfully nipping at his nose.

“Well, in my eyes you are the perfect student here in this place,” he said, looking at his watch. “When is your next test? Cause I was thinking, maybe you and I could go out for lunch,” he offered.

Looking at her own watch, Marie looked up and smiled brightly. “My final test isn’t until tomorrow, so we can go now if you would like,” she said.

Nodding enthusiastically, Tom stood up and grabbed Marie’s hand. They then ran out of the building and towards the nearest fast food joint for some lunch.

****

Hours later, Tom made his way to his dorm room and sighed happily. “That really cheered me up,” he said, bringing his card up to the scanner only to blink out of confusion when his ID was rejected. “Huh?” He asked, scanning his card only to get the same response.

Tilting his head to the side, Tom turned and went to the administrator to figure out what the issue was. When he went into the room, he gave a smile to the receptionist. “Hello, I came because I’m having an issue with my ID. I can’t get into my dorm,” he explained.

“Hand over the ID and I’ll do a check,” the receptionist said, taking said ID and inputting it into the computer. He then looked up at Tom and sighed. “It’s because you were just expelled this afternoon, the headmaster will need to see you immediately to discuss details,” he explained, handing the ID over.

Completely baffled, Tom turned and went straight to the headmaster’s office. Knocking, he entered once given permission.

“Good afternoon Mr. Planter, please have a seat,” the headmaster greeted, motioning towards the chair. Once the younger sat, the headmaster opened a manilla folder on his desk. Going over it, he looked up at Tom. “Below average in all fields outside of effective use of powers, I am aware you were probably not going to graduate. However, someone has tipped me off on something about you,” he began.

“If it’s about the simulator today, I saw no other option but to rescue the hostage myself. If I knew the team couldn’t handle it, I would have gone back for them,” Tom explained, face flushed out of embarrassment. He honestly hoped that this was not the reason for his expulsion. Maybe it was actually an accident or a prank.

Shaking his head, the headmaster closed the file. “No, we have found contraband in your dorm. When questioned, you roommate said he has seen you reading these magazines on a nightly basis,” he explained, pulling out a plastic bag with tabloids discussing the most diabolical villains in the world.

Gulping, Tom shook his head frantically. “Those aren’t mine! I was framed, I’m being honest,” he shouted, standing up quickly.

“I’m afraid the evidence we have prove otherwise, Mr. Planter. We already have all of your stuff packed away. I expect you to be off of our property before dinner,” the headmaster explained.

Clenching his fists, Tom sighed before setting his now useless ID on the desk. “Very well,” he said, turning and exiting the office. Taking his bag from the receptionist, Tom left the office.

“I told you, your life was going to be hell if I failed my final,” a voice said, causing Tom to look at the team leader with pure bitterness.

Resisting the urge to punch her in the face, Tom simple continued walking until he found Marie.

Looking up at him, Tom realized he must have been crying because she immediately ran over and pulled him in for a hug. “Hey, shh, it’s ok. What happened?” She asked with concern.

“Someone planted contraband in my dorm and probably bribed my roommate, so I was expelled,” Tom sobbed out, wrapping his arms around his girlfriend.

“Oh dear,” Marie said with pure shock. She then continued rubbing his back soothingly. “Listen, you’re going to be fine. I’ll make sure that once I graduate I’ll come to you first, I want you to be the first person I see and touch when I get out of here. Until then, promise to wait for me?” She asked.

Nodding, Tom pulled Marie in for a long and passionate kiss. He knew this would probably be the last time he will see her for a long time.

That is, unless…

Shaking the thoughts from his head, Tom pulled away and smiled softly. “I promise to wait for you,” he said, turning and walking away.

Despite trying to keep a positive outlook on things, Tom could not keep out the negatives.

Revenge being the most prominent.

Listen, you’re a good person and that’s all you need to be a hero in my book.

“Sorry Marie, but sometimes being good just isn’t enough,” Tom mumbled softly to himself as he made his way off of academy property.

[thiccpapisss]

My Life Is In Danger

Please reblog, please help me

The day I met Andrew (before becoming his roommate) was 04/09/2020.  

I met Andrew here where I currently reside through my ex coworker at the time Alyssa Pearson. She and Andrew were current roommates at the time she introduced me to Andrew. When I arrived to the scene to hang out and catch up with Alyssa, I was introduced to Andrew her new roommate. Whom it was clear to see that he was absolutely out of his mind drunk. I knew I needed to keep a safe distance based on personal experience. On this day as I am sitting with my legs crossed signaling non confrontational body language, Andrew would poke my thigh touching my Adidas sign on my pants saying “wow this is so cool, I’ve never seen all black Adidas pants” I casually did not find any interest in his flandering “compliments” It was all a cover up. The more touchy he got, the more I felt its time to leave. My boyfriend would not be happy with me sharing this experience with him. So I called an uber to head back home. I couldn’t handle sharing such a small space with a man I never met before. I also never feel comfortable to share my energy with a caucasian man. The conversations do not feel genuine to me. I always felt he been trying to befriend me since 04/09/2020.

That was my first ever encounter with Andrew William LoPresti

Next was 04/20/2020 when I came back to see Alyssa again, I was feeling overwhelmed with my previous living situation under so much stress from the pandemic. I needed an escape from reality. Alyssa extended the offer to come over to release some stress, paint, have some wine and just relax. I took the offer. On this day I saw Andrew and a previous roommate at the time whom names does not need to be mentioned and as I am getting ready to leave with my uber approaching within minutes. The former roommate whom name does not need to be mentioned, Alyssa, and Andrew all informed me that May 28th the former roommate will be moving out and because of the stress I was under to move out of the old house I was living in , I was extended the offer to live here where I currently reside with welcoming arms. Everything seemed so perfect! Andrew, Alyssa and I were all so excited to have not only a trustworthy, responsible, reliable adult who has a savings, who can pay rent on time, I gave them hope for a better , much happier experience with a new roommate than they’ve had in the past. I thought this was a blessing for me. It was a great day 04/20/2020. Aside from what Andrew done to me I knew this was an opportunity for me to change my life for the better. I planned to move in with the intentions to live here and grow, for a better opportunity in the near future. I did not move in here to be friends with Andrew, Alyssa and Kent, I did not move in with the intentions to be buddy buddy with these young adults. I came here to live peacefully with my boyfriend. I came with the intentions to expand my horizons, and to save more money to get an apartment or a house in a couple of years. 

  Move in Day (05/28/2020)  

  It was  6:30 pm 05/28/2020 that Chris and I arrived very late to our new home to meet the landlord and to sign the lease agreement. As we arrived to the house in our moving truck, Alyssa comes out to guide us to parallel park, and Andrew is right behind Alyssa looking completely disgustingly wasted while holding what is called a “shooter”half empty in his hand. The 28 year old caucasian man struggled to stand up straight, and still. As I get out the truck he greets me asking “what took you so long to get here motherfucker?” That rubbed me the wrong way. Because he is no one to question me with such a negative connotation. I thought “how dare he question me like that?” But it did  not matter as I saw he was already so wasted. Mind you. Andrew is wasted and this is move in day, where we meet with our landlord Shauni Friedman and we sign the lease together and go over the lease agreement with a clear understanding. I did not think it was appropriate for him to have been so drunk at this time. 

  Shauni arrives, and Andrew and his girlfriend attempt to leave. Shauni asked him where is he going, as we needed to step inside to discuss the lease agreement. Andrew responds telling Shauni he and his girlfriend are trying to catch the liquor store before it closes. Shauni explained to Andrew this meeting will only take a few minutes since Andrew clarified that the liquor store he was gonna go to closes at 8pm. It’s just a little after 6:30 , maybe about 6:40 pm. Theres no need to be in a hace to purchase liquor. He is already belligerently drunk. I couldn’t believe it. 

 Now here where are inside the living room with Andrew, Alyssa, Myself, Chris , and Kent talking with Shauni. Going over the month to month lease agreement. Andrews obnoxiously talking over everyone, trying to befriend Shauni with his kind ways, and gestures, trying to paint this false picture that we are all some kind of a family. That IMMEDIATELY made myself and Chris uncomfortable. We knew  we weren’t there to be a “family” but there was no need to dispute his verbals when Chris and I had our own game plan. We were focusing on growth and success. Not being friends and family with strangers. 

  The very next day 05/29/2020 is my birthday, and may I say it was the best day ever! Nothing happened. The next day 05/30/2020, Andrew and Alyssa are throwing jokes at each other and Alyssa goes into his room (door wide open) I followed behind to just be warm and kind and not come off as I’m so uptight, Andrew and Alyssa are both in the room and I welcome myself which was not a problem at all because as Andrew says himself “I love Daquaen so much” my boyfriend can validate that statement. As can Alyssa. As I go in and toss what I pretended was holy water on my friend Alyssa for being a fresh young lady with Andrew, Andrew comes from behind me, gropes my butt, then slides his hands up from my butt to my shoulders, massages my shoulders and physically turns me around (facing the door )to walk me out of his room. As he walks me out of his room he smacks my butt abruptly and tells my boyfriend whom he referred to as “Christian” not Chris that he smacked my ass. That’s not normal. I thought to myself, why would he do that? Why would he say this to my boyfriend as if that was okay. I was so uncomfortable so mind blown, I was just confused. None of it made sense. 

Andrew has a girlfriend all ready, yet was being inappropriate with Alyssa…then touching and groping my butt, and telling my boyfriend exactly what he did as if that was the most polite thing he was proud of himself for doing. Absolutely not. Unacceptable. 

May 30th, The day after my birthday Chris and I decided to make baked ziti for dinner I am wearing a tank top and underwear and chris had on his underwear as we are cooking, here comes Andrew so  ecstatic that we are openly in our underwear cooking with no judgements from anyone. We opened a door for him that he felt amazed by and comfortable enough to suggest he will be doing the same as us. I thought it was strange that he was happy to see us openly in our underwear…so here he goes again touching, making feel uneasy, touching my boyfriend calling us cutie pies over and over again. The “compliments” just did not stop. I felt like he was doing way too much now. It was way too overwhelming. For a straight man like him who is in a relationship with a woman he was pretty flirty with two men in a relationship with each other. So in this moment as we are cooking, I asked him if he could just not touch me, because in the outfit I was wearing I did not think it was appropriate for him to even touch my shoulder. He offered to “hug it out” to bring the tension down…but I just asked that he doesn’t touch me. Not even my shoulders, then he said alright what about a fist pound or hand shake. I said no thank you Andrew because that will go against everything I just asked of you. I am not going to be flandered any longer I told him. He immediately got offended and said to me “oh come on dude, its just a fist pump.” I looked at him in confusion…what was he not getting? I wondered. So as he proceeded to STILL touch my shoulders, he began complimenting my hair, touching and massaging my head…in front of my boyfriend STILL, as I am in my underwear! That massage he forced onto my head was way to sensual for my liking, then he proceeded by saying “I do this with everyone, I’m just a friendly guy and you’re trying tome me look like the bad guy” that’s what he told me. Andrew loves to play the victim role when he has been rejected I noticed. As he proceeds with his whining, Alyssa lets him know that he is not the bad guy and no one is making him out to be the bad guy(which is the truth) Alyssa explained that I (Daquaen Moore) was just asking that he gives me my personal space and just don’t touch me no matter what I am wearing. I could be dressed in a tuxedo…do not touch me. I made that very clear to Andrew. Now he stomps off in a rant because now Alyssa is backing me up.

Now May 31st  Here where are with Andrew drinking being a complete drunk 3 days in a row since I moved in May 28th. I noticed and I come to my room to avoid him because I all ready know this man is not gonna be able to control himself around me. So I did him the favor by staying in my room while he’s actively walking to my next door roommates room, being loud drinking offering shots. It was just such an obnoxious night. I was so uncomfortable  with him being so drunk everyday.  At this time that he was drunk  he’s welcoming himself into our room to check out how the progress is coming along, physically touching me with his hand on my shoulders, asking to borrow a screw driver multiple times, and while he borrows the screwdriver by the third time he requested it, I am laying on my bed exhausted. Just over the day. As I lay down , I am facing the door which is open, waiting for the return of my screwdriver and Chris is facing me with his back towards the door. When Andrew returns our screwdriver he silently blows an inappropriate   kiss to me and a wink and  then gestures with a piercing seductive facial expression. I was pissed off about that. This is when I knew, I have got to say something before his behavior gets worse.

 I just didn’t know how to confront him. I have not had  to confront a white man ever, so  to confront this one without any risk being taken was scary to me. It gave me anxiety just thinking about the negative ways this conversation could go. 

I ask Alyssa how should I approach him because I was scared out of my mind to confront him to make this end. I thought to take advice from Alyssa because she has known him longer and I was convinced she was a smooth talker and could guide me along the ways of what  words to use to not victimize him in any way. 

So here I am about to confront Andrew. Andrew is drunk and so drunk that swallowing my spit felt like I was swallowing a double quarter pounder whole. This moment was scary, I asked Andrew if we could talk…he says yes and grabs my shoulders invading my personal space once AGAIN! I remember the nasty smell of the alcohol on his breath I felt nauseous. I said to Andrew , I really like living here and I am kindly asking that you respect my boyfriend by not touching me anymore. I asked that there be no more ass grabbing, no more shoulder touching, no more unnecessary massages, and no more sexual gestures. He immediately denied everything. This struck me. As he denied these actions of his, I reminded him about the time in the kitchen when he seductively massaged my head…he says that was not sexual I just really like your hair he says.I wish I could have hair like you he says. That just was not the case whatsoever. So the last thing I mention before I decide to give up on this conversation , is when he blew a kiss at me behind my boyfriends back and the time he admitted to my boyfriends face how Andrew himself smacked my ass. Alyssa and Chris were both present for the conversation. As Andrew denied all claims I made and as I had witnesses no one spoke up in my defense. Not my boyfriend, and not Alyssa. Giving Andrew the opportunity to see that he was in the clear because no one spoke up when I asked them to. And this is why I did not file a police report. The only two people who were there to witness this at the time, did not defend me when he denied everything I confronted him about. I asked Chris to repeat what Andrew said to him to his face that he did to violate me. Now it is just my word against his. Against a white man, they gave him the power he needed to feel entitled to know he would not get in trouble for the sexual harassment he put me through. 

 As the  conversation turned into his favor he began putting his finger in my face suggesting that I “Daquaen Moore” just moved in three days ago and he threatened to get me out in three days. I laughed because I knew that was not possible. Joke was on him. As Chris and I go back to our room, I hear Alyssa still on the other  side of the house talking to Andrew trying to calm him down because he began making comments such as “but  Daquaen wanted to suck my dick” my boyfriend heard that and became more irate. My friend Alyssa told him he needs to chill out because that was false and inappropriate for him to suggest such a thing. I live with my boyfriend…who is unemployed as am I and we’re home everyday together. That statement is just disgusting. Especially coming from him. Because of this I asked him if he can take it easy with his drinking, from now on because now he’s getting way out of line. He says he’s sorry and starts crying all of a sudden , saying in between tears how much he loves me and wants to be friends with me and my boyfriend. I told him that we will never be friends after tonights comments. I told him he will never hear a peep out of me ever again for the lack of respect he displayed for my well being. Once I said this in HIS face as Alyssa is in between myself and Andrew he tells me “you need to back up mother fucker, or I will get my licensed gun and shoot you!” When he said this, I requested that he shoots me. I asked him to get his gun and shoot me. Alyssa says he is not gonna shoot anyone and that he does not have a gun. Whether him having a gun or not is true or false. I wanted him to knock me out of my misery or harm me so I could take THAT to the police. I was tired of his crying , irate mood swings. I just wanted physical proof to go to the cops and get him arrested. But of course that did not happen. He suggested he was calling the cops on me for harassment.. but no one ever showed up. So at this time I realized , I am sober arguing with a wasted 28 year old man. I am 23 years old. I took my ass right back to my room because I  drained myself wasting so much energy on a man who will never be truthful. Also before going back to my room I called him out for being a closeted DL man I told him he’s mad about the outcome of tonight because he did not get the pleasure to have sex with me. I insulted his entire disgusting “manhood” PROUDLY! I told him I am not stupid! This was not my first rodeo with a lying disrespectful closeted gay man who feels the need to disrespect me because I am calling him out on his secret behaviors. I told him this would not stop me from getting the justice I know I deserve! This is when he threatened to shoot me. After I demolished his manhood. 

Alyssa ask that we all stay away from each other, and I preferred it that way. All I wanted was for him to respect my wishes. My wish being to let me live here in peace without any interactions with him. I moved here to live my life not to make a family with a strange man I want nothing to ever do with. 

Now for the month of June till July 12th,  there are no verbal exchanges  from Andrew between any of us and I absolutely loved it. It was peaceful, I felt comfortable to walk out and hang in the living room. I felt great! I got to live here finally without any drama and nonsense I was so proud of Andrew for being strong enough to actually not talk to us. He showed me that having the conversation with him actually benefited my boyfriend and I. I felt safe again.

But here comes July 13th, around 3:30 in the morning. My boyfriend is in the living room speaking to his friend about a private matter and Andrew walks out telling Chris he needs to go back to his room. We do not pay rent sit in our rooms all day. None of the other roommates have an issue with us talking on the phone at all in the living room at any time of day. Only Andrew has the issue, and he thinks he can demand people to go back to their rooms because he says so, it really does to work like that.

So July 13th around 3/4 in the afternoon maybe , I see Andrew and I asked him if I can borrow two minutes of his time. He looks at me and says no, then walks away locks his door behind him and tells me to shut the fuck up and to go away. So I stood by his door and kindly let him know my boyfriend has purchased a sewing machine so I am gonna apologize to you in advance for the noise. We let him know that we will text the group chat that we will be considerate of his work schedule and the sewing machine noise since being on the phone bothered him so much. He wanted Chris to end his phone call and go back to his room because Andrew said so, but when I told him a month ago that the needs to dial it down with his drinking due to him sexually harassing me he couldn’t oblige. That makes no sense to me. So we move on with our day, I did what I needed to do. Christopher and I are having a great time playing mortal combat, Chris pours me a cup of sangria at around 9:15, maybe 9:20 the latest. We continue to play video games as I drank my wine and my cup is almost empty. At 10:49 ,10:50 in the evening, I asked Chris to get me another cup of wine, and he went to grab me some. Chris comes back pissed off, requesting that I get up right now and “come look at this”… here is what I came to the kitchen to see as my heart pounded harder and harder the closer I got into the kitchen. 

This Sangria looks green and sud like. Here’s a picture of what the wine looked like in my empty cup, and picture of what the Bottle actually looked like before bleach was poured into my wine. 

Also, The other two roommates saw that Andrew or a  mysterious person had also put blue toilet pods in their britaa . Here is a picture of that. 

That is suppose to be clear. 

When I opened my Sangria THE BLEACH SCENT WAS SO STRONG, you’d thing that we were cleaning the entire living room with bleach! I was PISSED with Andrew, he was the only suspect. Kent did not do this, Alyssa did not do this, and Chris and I definitely did not do this. Andrew was the only one who could not face us to explain what is going on with this life threatening poison. So I took it upon myself to knock on his door for answers he told me to fuck off, or maybe go away. But the point is he dismissed me and informed me HE IS RECORDING THIS. While I was pissed off that SOMEONE poured bleach into my wine to kill me thinking I was drunk, and I knock on Kents and Andrews doors for answers because I know my friend Alyssa and my boyfriend Chris did not do this, Andrew is letting me know he is recording…what was he recording??? Why were you all ready recording me before I even knocked on your door for an explanation? So because I had an idea that this suspicious man was feeling guilty wanting to record my reaction. I gave him what he was looking for and I poured the bleached sangria out all over his door onto the floor to show him I am still ALIVE! And I knew what he had done. He called the cops on myself and Chris for banging on his door for answers, we wanted him to face us like a man. But he could not face us!!! Chris and I go to Andrews window from the outside to let him know he was NOT getting away with  murder again! Chris tells him if we have to fight we can fight to get over this. Andrew takes him up on the offer to fight like a man from the inside of his room. Instead of coming out to fight with his hands, he sprints at my boyfriend and I with a weapon, it could have definitely  been a gun, possibly a knife. But all we knew was he came out to end our lives and we ran to save our lives! Then The cops come for his defense. The cops did not introduce themselves, they did not have mask on and they did not listen to what our statements were. They came looking for Andrew , we told them he tried to kill us all showing the proof I walked up to the officer with the sangria bottle asking him to smell this bottle. He declines my suggestion rudely by saying “ I am not smelling that” these white cops looked at my boyfriend and I up and down as if we were some dirty scumbags from the street. Instead of serving us they asked us if asking him to leave us alone will make us feel better. We frustratedly expressed that is not enough! The officer said alright hold on, let me talk to Andrew stay right here. Half an hour later Chris goes out to check all corners of the house for the cops… no one is to be found. I left my landlord tons of text and calls expressing my concern for the safety of my life. The police were no help, the landlord was no help, Chris, Alyssa , and I stayed up till 6am when we knew Andrew would be gone to feel like we can finally go to sleep! The landlord and I finally spoke, and he tells me we need to find somewhere else to stay. Kent sends us text in a group chat that someone or people need to leave and that it won’t be him. We all know who the problem is here and it is sad that no one could do anything about this man. Also in the middle of the night “someone” goes to pour paint on someone’s car outside. On a ring camera they see Andrew outside of this car that has the paint on it. Not only this 5 am or 6 am cops are questioning us about the car with paint on it because Andrew AGAIN called the cops on us and accused myself, Alyssa and Chris for doing so. He also accused us of moving a ping pong table. I do not understand how he was able to pul this off.  We have no reason to do this and we would NEVER damage someones car knowing it was not Andrews. Andrew doesn’t drive he rides a bike. If it was Andrews car I would have love to damage his vehicle for trying to kill my boyfriend and I. The cops and the landlord said they did not care about the bleach in the wine, they did not care about the toilet pods in the brita. All the cops and the landlord were concerned about was the car with paint on it that shows Andrew out there next to it in the middle of the night. Chris, Alyssa and I were all home in our rooms when Andrew was spotted on camera. When the cops came, at 5/6 in the morning I was suffering from a horrible case of anxiety that I felt I wasn’t gonna make it if I had gone to sleep. This is not okay. I am not being protected. I’m afraid for the well being of my life, my boyfriends life and my roommates lives.