#from baby boy to bad bitch so fast i got whiplash

[fragcc]

Does it ever drive you crazy how Wille went from this:

To this:

And all in the span of four months?

[lazarettta]

The Babysitter

Characters ( Ally Mayfair-Richards x Reader )

Rating (T) Word Count ( 2.9k) Warnings ( None, bad flirting, writing while intoxicated)

“For dinner! I'd love to come home with you for dinner.”

“Well what else would you be coming for?”

“Dessert.”

It was another late night studying on the living room floor of the Mayfair-Richards household. It wasn't uncommon for you to spend a majority of your nights here during the week and sometimes the weekend if you were needed and you usually weren't. Not that you would've minded anyway, your weekends weren't busy—mostly spent either dead asleep or trying to get out of plans you didn't want to be a part of anyway to get more sleep.

But it wasn't everyday that you were able to work for a Senator either, so even if you were busy, you weren't going to tell Ally Mayfair-Richards that. Not that she was a mean boss or anything, she was the Senator for crying out loud. And...okay yes, maybe you idolized the woman a little though it may be because you're studying law but honestly who wouldn't idolize this woman? She went through so much shit getting to this point in her life and career.

And she was hot. She was really hot but you kept it in your pants, but your eyeballs? Different story. You were just grateful that she chose you to watch her son when she was away, especially after you knocked over your entire cup of tea in her living room on the very carpet you were sitting on, and you were just a hot mess.

You thought you blew the whole thing, but the moment she produced the NDA to you a few days later when she called you back for a 'second interview' which included Ozzy this time, you'd been ecstatic and nearly knocked over another fucking cup but Ally was faster than you that time.

The giant TV was playing in front of you across the room but it was just the news channel but the volume was pretty low because Oz was asleep upstairs and you weren't really watching it anyway, you had your airpods in listening to Beyoncé and trying to create a decent scenario for one of the ten theories your professor assigned. It was due the next day so you thought picking the easiest one would work in your favor but it was turning out to be your worst nightmare—and you'd regretted choosing sleep over this, kind of.

You'd been so engrossed in your work, and music, you didn't hear the front door open and shut somewhere behind you or hear Ally quietly talking on the phone, her high heels click clacking on her polished wood floors as she came into the living room. Ally paused slightly at the sight of you and her coffee table, your books and yellow pads scattered everywhere, your head bopping slightly to whatever you were listening to as you scribbled away.

Ally smiled softly, and continued on her way upstairs to check on Ozzy knowing that she was going to find him safe, clean and fast asleep with a full belly. You'd been his nanny for four months now and you were such a blessing for Ally, she'd been reluctant to hire and trust another person with her baby boy but her career was too demanding and Ozzy was only ten. He could stay home alone for a few hours maybe, but not days or even a week or two.

After everything, Ally did have cameras around her home on the outside and she had one directly over the stairs because it overlooked the foyer and parts of the living room from an angle. She didn't want too many camera's inside of her home in case they were hacked but she wanted something at least.

Ozzy's room was dark except for his nightlight by the door and Ally quietly made her way inside, carefully sitting on the edge of the bed and pushing his curls from his face. She was ever thankful that he finally stopped having those horrible nightmares, it meant that she wasn't wasting her money on therapy sessions.

When Ally came back downstairs, you were predictably in the exact same spot you were in and Ally finally did away with her coat, placing it over the spine of the sofa and she stepped out of her heels before coming around and plopping herself down, careful not to knock over your stack of books.

The sudden movement startled you out of your skin and you quickly pulled out your airpods and looked at your boss, “Hey! Sorry, how long have you been home?”

Ally smiled down at you tiredly, practically sinking into the sofa and you could feel her exhaustion rolling off of her in waves, and you couldn't help but sympathize because damn, and you thought you were tired.

“I just got in, I'm sorry I didn't call earlier, things got busier than I expected and then everything went into chaos.”

You smirked when she threw her hands up half heartedly with a roll of her eyes, “Would a glass of wine help?”

“No, but it would definitely be a start if you join me for a glass?” she raised an eyebrow, and as much as you wanted to say yes you've already procrastinated enough and you really didn't need alcohol in your system around her lest you say something you absolutely shouldn't.

“I would but I have to finish this and it's getting late. Do you mind waiting up until my Uber gets here?”

“It's really late, you should just stay the night, (Y/n).” Ally sat up then, waving away your comment, though now she was closer and hovering over you a bit, “I'll take you home tomorrow after breakfast, that sound fair?”

It wouldn't be the first overnight stay but it would definitely be the first time that she'd be home too and you just couldn't say no to that even though you probably should have insisted more that you go home, but you accepted her offer without further debate. You'd gone back to your assignment, minus the airpods this time, and Ally got up to go to the kitchen and you could hear her fixing herself a glass of wine.

Ally set a bottle of water next to you on a coaster before settling back in her spot and finding something to watch on TV, and of course you noticed that she was a hell of a lot closer than she was before.

Your pen had paused on the yellow paper and your eyes glanced over the same sentence three times before your mind processed that you could practically feel the heat from her legs next to your arm through her slacks, and if you leaned just an inch you'd be touching her. You fought the urge to look back over your shoulder, but instead you looked up from beneath your lashes and saw that she was browsing the movie channels at a snail's pace.

Behind you, Ally was sipping her wine in one hand and flipping channels with the remote in the other but her eyes were nowhere on the TV screen. But she noticed the moment your pen stopped moving and your shoulders tensed more than usual, she'd been watching you closely and curiously.

“You okay, honey?”

You turned around to answer her with what you hoped was a calm smile and wished that you hadn't, really. Ally was going to kill you sitting the way she was sitting, her energy screaming big dick and the top three buttons of her shirt were undone and her hair was a little messy. Either she was going to give you a heart attack or your libido would.

“Sweetheart?”

You blinked, coming back to reality so fast you would’ve gotten whiplash, “Uh, yeah...maybe I guess I’m just tired too.” Yeah right.

You chuckled nervously, embarrassed really, and licked your lips again and Ally tracked the movement with rapt attention not that you would've caught it because you were busy being mortified being caught staring like a creep.

“Are you sure? You look flushed, drink some water,” you smiled at Ally, ever the mom.

“I’m not—” not what? Thirsty? Yeah you were but not for some water.

“You’re not what?” Ally pressed, still holding you hostage with her eyes alone.

“Not thirsty for water.”

Ally raised an eyebrow, the corner of her lips twitching and you hate that you noticed, “Oh? Then what would you like to drink if it’s not wine or water?”

Good question. One you didn’t have a good answer to. Not trusting yourself to formulate words into an appropriate sentence, you just nodded and turned back around and grabbed the water she brought you. You were determined to ignore until you were finished with your work—for the sake of your sanity and dignity.

Fuck.

Still watching you, Ally laughed quietly into her wine glass and finally settled on a movie, keeping the volume low as she got comfortable. Deciding to let you off the hook for not answering her question. (This time.)

~~

A few days later...

It was another late night for you but you weren't working for Ally tonight, so you went to the gym instead after studying. You were still wearing your tights and sports bra when you left, only throwing on a jacket because the night air and sweat weren't a great mix.

You didn't have anything at home to eat that wasn't expired or so frozen it came from the ice age...it all went in the trash so all you had left in your fridge was a case of water and cheese sticks. It wasn't surprising though, you spent a majority of your free time at Ally's home and you just ate lunch and dinner there usually. So you went straight to the grocery store after your workout with your trainer.

“Hey (Y/n)!” you looked up and internally groaned, rolled your eyes and threw a whole bitch fit.

You offered Sean a tight near sarcastic smile, “Sean. What is up.”

“Nothin',” he said, leaning against the counter he was standing behind with a cheesy smile, his eyes leering—and it made your skin crawl, “Just working...you?”

“Uh,” you were already over this conversation, “Same, anyway—”

“You still work for that crazy killer lesbian?”

You stopped, pivoting back around slowly to see if he was joking or not, of course it was hard to tell because he was looking at your ass, but the minute he turned around his eyes laser beamed to your chest. Specifically your pebbled nipples and the bars pierced in them. You moved the labels of your jacket to cover them fucking pig.

“Uh, my eyes are up here and two, that 'crazy killer lesbian' is your Senator.”

He shrugged, “I didn't vote for her.”

“I'm...okay, it was nice talking to you but I have things to do.”

“Well, wait,” he moved in front of you, stopping your escape, “That's not what I wanted to talk to you about actually, uh, but listen...do you maybe wanna go to dinner with me this weekend? My treat?”

You raised an eyebrow at him, completely unimpressed with his audacity, “You literally just called my boss a crazy killer lesbian and now you're expecting me to go to dinner with you?” as if, you wanted to add but held yourself in check—barely.

“I'm sorry about that,” Sean only shrugged but he was bashful about it but it only served to irritate you further because it was obvious that he didn't quite mean it and you were mentally slapping yourself for just not ordering that damn pizza.

“Whatever, goodnight Sean.”

you tried to move around him but he shifted, keeping you in place and you knew you could've just turned around, you should've but he would've just followed you, “Well wait, you never answered my question. About dinner?”

“No.”

“Well, wait a minute...why not? The lesbian thing? It was just a joke. You can take one, can’t you?”

“And I'm not laughing, get the fuck outta my way Sean—”

“You—”

“I believe she told you to fuck off.”

Sean's eyes snapped up over your head slightly, and you would've laughed at his stupid face had you not been pivoting around yourself, your eyes meeting a very familiar chin and you looked up, but Ally's eyes weren't on you but instead glaring daggers into Sean. He'd be ten feet under if she got her way with that look. You wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of it. (Maybe another version of it...)

“S-senator?”

“Oh, I'm not the crazy killer lesbian anymore? How disappointing.” when Sean could only stare at her like a fish out of the water, Ally stepped forward—a lot closer to you and you didn't have the strength to move or even look away, “I believe you were told to leave. Oh and if I even hear that you looked at or said anything to (Y/n) incorrectly, you're going to have a lot worse than a harassment complaint from a Senator to deal with.”

You didn't see him leave but you heard the squeaks of his sneaker and in seconds flat you and Ally were alone in the cereal aisle and you had absolutely no idea how to even breathe at the moment, much less process that she just saved you from...whatever that even was.

When Ally was satisfied that Sean was gone, she finally looked down at you—there was still a fire in them that you couldn't place but her brown eyes were softer than they were a few seconds ago, and you felt your shoulders relaxing slightly.

“Are you alright, (Y/n)?”

You cleared your throat, taking a small step back—but you still felt exposed under her unblinking stare though not in the same way you felt with Sean, it was the complete opposite, “Yeah thanks to you, so um thanks...a lot. Your timing is impeccable, but what are you doing here so late? Where's Oz? Is he okay?”

Ally smiled at you, shaking her head disturbing her always perfect hairstyle, “Oz is fine, or at least he will be, he must've ate something today at school and it's not sitting well with his stomach,” Ally rolled her eyes but not at the fact that her son had food poisoning but that he had food poisoning from the school lunch. She could only imagine that other children—reforming school lunches was already on her agenda but now she was seriously considering moving ahead of schedule.

“Oh no, how bad?”

“Not too bad...he'll be okay, I'm just here for medicine to stock up on,” Ally reassured you, her eyes flickering over your shoulder for a second, “What are you doing out so late?” and wearing that? She mentally added, but held her tongue because she knew that it wasn't her place to comment on your attire—not that she was complaining about it, but Ally just didn't like the way Sean was leering at you either. She was a hair away from showing him how she earned her title.

Suddenly aware of how much skin you were showing, and that your jacket fell open again but unlike with Sean you didn't feel the need to really cover yourself (even though you knew that you should've). You appreciated her eyes more than his...and probably anyone else's.

“Oh, I went to the gym and since I don't have any food at home...”

Ally chuckled, “Is this your way of asking for a raise?”

“No! No, no you pay me plenty...I'm just too busy to cook is all and then I'm just too tired to eat sometimes. College life.”

“I was teasing, welcome to adulthood. It doesn't stop,” you laughed along with her but you both knew there was truth behind those words.

“I shouldn't keep you, I know you have things to do.”

“You know, I doubt you're going to get a decent nutrient meal here tonight, especially shopping while you’re hungry...” Ally hummed, seemingly thinking hard about something before opening her mouth to carefully speak those words, “You're more than welcome to come home with me for a late dinner if you have nowhere else to be. I'd be more than happy to feed you.”

Heh. Feed me what? You blinked, mildly surprised with how fast your mind went straight to the gutter and you felt your face heating up faster than a house fire, and you had no doubt in your mind that your boss knew exactly what she was doing to you.

But she didn't, Ally didn't have one clue to what was happening in your mind because her own mind was a pile of scrambled eggs while forcing her eyes to stay above your neck. You were both very much still in public.

And the last thing Ally wanted to do was make either you a cliché, especially with her being a public figure in a male dominant career field, both in politics and her restaurant.

“Unless you had your sights set on cereal?” Ally coughed lightly, suddenly nervous and you realized that you'd been standing there staring at her like a moron this whole time.

“No, I'd love to come home with you,” you said cheerfully, meaning every damn word for different reasons, and you smiled at her, before your eyes widened when realizing how forward you sounded, and suggestive as hell, “For dinner! I'd love to come home with you for dinner.”

“Well what else would you be coming for?”

“Dessert.”

Direct result after two blunts...sorry if it's kinda lame tho lmao I went in thinking I was writing smut and gave up somewhere

[hotwings0203]

A/N: Hi guys! This is my first oneshot thingy (or any piece) that I’m posting here, it’s kind of dark but I think that’s the type of fic I enjoy writing. Let me know what you all think, and any suggestions or feedback is much appreciated since this is the first time I’m using Tumblr😆

Warnings: implication of non-con, manipulation, yandere themes, kidnapping

Pairing: Yandere Dabi x f reader

Smoke curled into your hiding place, invading your senses. You could hear him smashing other various household items around the house, attempting to startle you and make a sound, effectively revealing your hiding place

Which wasn’t a very clever one, mind you.

If you only had a couple more seconds, maybe, just maybe you could’ve dove into the closet and actually hidden with some blankets and clothes covering you instead of your current chosen position, which was under the creaky bed.

You cursed yourself for even starting something so stupid, and getting a rise out of him in the first place when you knew, you knew he hated it when you picked fights over the smallest of things. All he wanted you to do was make him some breakfast, now was that so much to ask for? Did you have to put rat poison in his oatmeal at 10 am in the morning?

You didn’t think you could handle playing this happy-go-lucky fake domestic scene any further; you wanted to go home. You wanted to see your family again for Thanksgiving, you wanted to meet up with your friends and get your nails done and coo over pretty boys, and most of all you wanted to go outside and gaze up at the clear blue sky and just watch the fall colors swirl around you in a halo of leaves.

Dabi let’s you go outside twice every month if you’re being good for him, and if you really please him he’ll let you touch the grass without that stupid shock collar that adorns your neck like an ornament with with him by your side, of course. Don’t think he’ll fully trust you after that stunt you pulled last week when you tried chewing the restraints off your wrists.

He had to salute your effort though, you really might’ve gotten away if he hadn’t surrounded you by his flames before you could touch the door.

Kind of like now, actually. While you’re trembling and cramped unceremoniously under the bed, he’s finished scanning the living room and kitchen for any sign of you.

Shit

That means there’s only two places left: the bathroom and his room, where you are.

Your legs are starting to cramp up and you’re wondering how long you can manage to stay still while this psycho is hounding you out.

“If you quit acting like a pussy and come out within 30 seconds, I’ll make sure to leave your face intact. Can’t say the same about the rest of you though, babe, I’m not feeling very generous or inclined to spare you too much after choking down rat poison.” He all but snarls as you can see from underneath the bed his elbows and jaw curl with smoke, blue flames licking at his shins.

The smell of rotting flesh feels like an ominous foreshadowing of your fate if you don’t think of a way out of this, fast.

You’re pulled from your musing as Dabi slams the bathroom closet door shut, and flings the shower curtain aside violently, indicating no more places are left for him to check for you except his room.

You’re out of time.

Picking up the soap dispenser on the sink counter, he weighs it in his hand, testing it’s material. You’re peeking out from underneath the mattress, unsure of what he’s doing.

You don’t need to keep wondering after he suddenly hurls the glass down on the floor, the dispenser shattering on the floor near the bed mere inches away from where your face was.

You let out a small shriek at the explosion, and immediately still and clamp your hand over your mouth with wide eyes.

But the damage has already been done, and Dabi knows this as he lets out a dark chuckle and saunters towards the bed, turning around and plopping down on the plushy material, his boots right in front of your face.

“We both already know where this is going, little mouse. I caught you, but I’ll be nice and give you one more chance to come to me willingly.”

He leans back on his elbows and tilts his head up to the chafing ceiling. He knows you’ll come, you always eventually do, that’s why he loves you, his sweet little girl who always does what she’s told.

What he doesn’t expect, however, is you making one last break for it, clambering out from the opposite side of where you both are situated and bolting to the door.

He whips his head around at the sound of you desperately fumbling with the lock on the door, when did he lock it? God this is taking too long he’s gonna catch you he’s gonna-

But you’re already out of the door and flying down the hallway as you hear him leaping off the bed and scrambling after you, the house completely silent save for the deafening sounds of both of your own objectives pounding away at the floor in the same direction.

“You fucking bitch, I grant you one last chance to come clean to me and this is the thanks I get? You’re dead little mouse.” You hear him howl behind you, and it scares you at how close he sounds.

But now you see it, you see your freedom at the entrance just an arms length away and you’re touching the door and-

The room is suddenly enveloped by blue fire, the door handle becoming so hot under your touch that you wail as you let go and cradle your bubbling flesh, tears blurring your vision as you whirl around to locate your assailant and captor.

Dabi stands in the middle of the living room, ethereal cobalt lighting up the sides of his face and illuminating the staples that stretch and threaten to rip from the shit-eating grin he sports while looking at your defenseless demeanor.

“I told you to listen while I was playing nice, right? This is what happens to little mice who want to turn into rats so bad. Is that why you wanted to feed me rat poison, huh, baby? You were warning me to get rid of what you might turn out to be, hmm?” He pouts at you, the corners of his mouth twitching when you sob in terror

“D-dabi please,” you bawl, “please let me leave. I w- wanna go h-home.” Your chest heaves at the last word, the pain in your hand paling in comparison to the ache in your chest.

“An-and I w-want you on your kn-knees worshipping the ground I walk on and making good use of that bitchy little mouth instead of whining and sniveling.” He mocked and cooed cruelly, reveling at your helplessness.

You could do nothing but wail louder as he started slowly walking towards you, his eyes narrowed, complemented with dark glint in his pupils while his ever-lasting hellish quirk enunciated his heavy steps.

Dabi finally reached you, and you pathetically pressed yourself into the wall and turned your face as he lifted his hand and stroked your cheek in faux sympathy. His bottom lip was stuck out in a fake pout, mimicking your state of panic.

“You’re not scared of me, right baby? It’s just a game, right? I mean after all I do for you-bathe, feed, and dress you- you only feel love for me, right?”

He was toying with you, in a similar fashion a cat plays with its prey before it pounces.

When you hesitated for a moment too long, his hand by your face heated up its dying embers, warning you to give him what he wanted to hear.

You whimpered and tried to evade his hand, only resulting in his gripping the back of your head and yanking back on your hair roughly so you were forced to look up and meet his amused, dark gaze.

“Ah-ah my pretty bitch. You don’t get to move away from me after all the stunts you pulled today. I’ve had enough of your bullshit so don’t test me any more, now I asked you a question: you love me right?”

At your wits end, you maintained eye contact with him as you shakily tried to nod your head, the movement being difficult to do as he had such a death-grip on your locks.

But he wasn’t satisfied by your pathetic attempt at agreeing, it seemed like he wanted to make your life hell even further and draw this out as long as he could because he clicked his tongue and shook your head like a rag doll in his hands, hair flying across your face and giving you whiplash.

“Use that sharp tongue you got on you before I melt your fucking teeth. You might be a grade-A moron, and a pathetic one at that but I know damn well you’re not mute.” He leans in further, his nose grazing yours as you almost went cross eyed trying to keep him in vision.

“Y-yes Dabi, I love you.”

His silence seemed to scream unimpressed, so you hurried to salvage the situation as best as you could so it wouldn’t escalate the knee-deep shit you were already in.

“And I’m...sorry I was being such a brat today, I just missed everyone I used to be close with. But you were right, I should be more grateful after everything you do for me. It’s not fair that I don’t treat you with the same, uh, affection that you show me. A-and I’m sorry I put... rat poison in your food.” You whispered this last part, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes.

He snorted, not entirely convinced at your sincerity in the apology but it was enough for him to loosen his grip on your head and take a step back from your personal space.

You sink down the wall to your knees, curling up slightly and taking shaky breaths as you attempt to calm down. The room is still engulfed in flames, but thanks to Dabi’s foresight and extensive planning, most of the furniture of fire-proof (god knows how he got it like that, it’s not like he was the son of the number one hero or anything to accumulate such wealth) so the damage was limited save for your mental state and injured hand.

Dabi crouches down in front of you, an odd smirk on his face as you peer up at him in caution.

“You know, I didn’t say I forgive you princess, or that you’re excused for your little tantrum.”

He cocks his head at you and lifts your chin up towards him with a scarred finger. You blanch at the implication of this ordeal not being over from your excruciating apology, and his disturbing Cheshire-cat grin stretches so wide over his face, you wonder distantly if his stitches are going to pop loose any second.

“Please, I’m sorry. I’ll do anything, just please don’t...please don’t burn me.” You whisper in defeat.

“Anything, you say? But why? Isn’t it more fun if I brand my name into your back? Oh wait! Maybe I’ll burn you so bad you’ll look like me! Then we’ll really be a matching couple, you’d like that wouldn’t you? I mean if you love me as much as you claim you’ll let me, right?”

He’s trapped you again. If you deny, he’ll ruthlessly berate you for lying to his face and who knows what he’ll do just for the sick, sadistic satisfaction he’ll get from making you stumble over your own lie.

If you comply, however, you’ll look like burnt bacon, just like this fucker.

“I’ll do anything to make you forgive me.” You quietly settle for.

He studies you for a moment, and the uncomfortably silence he grants you makes you shift in your place.

Dabi finally stands to his full height and stretches his arms back with a content groan.

“If that’s the case, then don’t say I didn’t let you choose how you wanted to make it up to me.”

You glance up when you hear the sound of a zipper being undone, and you mouth gapes at his innuendo. You can’t seem to look away as he frees himself from his black boxers, the sound of his belt and pants rustling as they hit the floor.

“Now then, what was that you said about redemption? I think this is a great way to put that mouth to good use, little mouse.”

[imagineitup]

𝘴𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘱𝘪𝘶𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘧𝘰𝘺

𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺: @spideyboipete

𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵: fake dating au

𝘢/𝘯: i tried out a new style of hc, so let me know if you like this version or my old versions better tysm <3

- - 

you and scorpius are those friends

you’ve got that type of friendship where something clicked and suddenly you were both attached at the hip for years

because apparently having the same brand cauldron in the beginning of first year with the same exact hole in the side means best friends ride or die in first year culture

like what even is this? some psychic shit??

but anyway, with you being absolutely intent on making friends, scorpius couldn’t get rid of you if he tried but pls he could never survive without you anyway :p

since then you’ve both been best friends for life!  well, ever since the +1 with the introduction of albus potter

and at first you were super happy because yay new friends

but then they kind of stopped hanging out with you in the middle of fifth year or so and went off into their own little world

and you were a little sad

ok maybe a lot sad

but that was okay because that meant you were able to meet new friends and expand your horizons! you even got the chance to focus on yourself and join some new clubs, too!

who even is scorpius anymore lmao you don’t know him

but anyway

it was seventh year and you were so tired of your friends bugging you to get a s/o

“(Y/N) why don’t you date someone?”

“you’d really hit it off with so and so, don’t you think?”

“just put yourself out there”

ರ_ರ

exsqueeze me

so one day you just can’t take it anymore

and maybe you should’ve thought this through but nO

you don’t pause to think things through

because life is for living in the moment hell yes

“guys i’m already dating someone” (▰˘◡˘▰)

needless to say your friends go insane

like who tf is this humans (Y/N) hasn’t mentioned the audacity™

so like any normal person, you say the first name that comes to mind

“hahaha … scorpius!”

your friends stare at you like they’re in the office

blink blink

“but … weren’t you guys just friends”

“NO”

you’re panicking but

hahahahhaha

“we’re in LOVE”

ur friends are really like ok whatever, but go off

and that is how you find yourself dragging yourself over to the slytherin common room and placing your hands on scorpius’s shoulders

“promise me you won’t freak out”

and ofc scorpius is already freaking out

bc why are you sitting in the common room with this crazily determined face and forcing him to listen to you

and this is how you get into this situation

with scorpius screeching and falling off his chair and you doing your best uwu pls help me 911 face

“i can’t DATE you”

what

you give scorpius your best professional face even though inside you’re ???

bc um is it that bad to date you??

you are confused???

you’ve saved scorpius thousands of times in his hogwarts career in both academics and social standing he can afford to pretend to date you ONCE

“WHY NOT”

“BECAUSE”

ರ_ರ

ರ_ರ ರ_ರ

obviously you’re not getting anywhere and you start to stand up, kind of annoyed

“fine then, ig i’ll just find someone else to date me.” sniff

as soon as you say that, it’s like you’ve flipped a switch and suddenly scorpius is very concerned and almost a little upset

and when you don’t notice him contemplating something, he runs in front of you and nearly knocks you over

“second thoughts?”

scorpius scowls

although it looks more like a lil pout pushing at his lips and he crosses his arms

lmao who is this and what’s happened to scorpius

you shrug and start to leave for real until scorpius reaches out to tug at your arm

“NO, NO WAIT … I’LL DO IT”

you whirl around immediately and you are needless to say, very relieved!

｡◕‿◕｡

“perfect!”

but apparently scorpius hasn’t recovered from his fall from before

bc he can’t stop rubbing his hand against his neck and his face is all blotchy and pink

kinda cute, but in a best friends way.  like wowie my best friend looks kinda adorable look at that boy go

but ofc scorpius has to ruin the special moment because he offhandedly says, “shouldn’t we have rules or something?”

rules???

rULES???

this is fake dating scorpius wdyfm rules?

“huh?”

“like … things not to do? maybe one big rule is not ruining our friendship???”

ʘ‿ʘ

oh

he smart smart

“ok easy then, just don’t fall in love with me”

apparently this is the WRONG thing to say?

scorpius is RED like boy is not pink anymore his cheeks are burning red

“you can’t just say that?”

????

you are confused bc what does that even mean

“why not?”

“that’s like ...  y-you you can’t just say that.”

you are, if possible, even more confused?

“okay and?”

scorpius blinks

bls this boy has the audacity to just shrug

WHAT DOES THAT MEAN

reader u are duMB af scorpius bout to throw hands here

but he won’t bc he luvs u  (▰˘◡˘▰)

so fifteen minutes later you guys decide to make three big rules

scorpius had a whole list of like twenty but you narrowed it down to these:

1. don’t ruin ur friendship

2. no kissing

3. and ur paying for three hogsmeade rounds after this is over

honestly you think this is kinda rude considering scorpius is richer than ur entire life but whatever, at least he’s not leaving you out to the wolves

so when it’s finally time to put this fake dating thing to the test, you tug scorpius over to your side of the table at the great hall and make sure to swing his hand

which actually feels kind of nice??

like you’ve never actually thought about this before

but scorpius is comforting

his hand fits right in yours, and he’s so warm

and i mean haha it’s not like this is a new thing, pssh you two hold hands all the time!! but adjkaldjkfl not in a dating way

ur friends are shocked

like they never thought you’d actually show up with a DATE

and bc they’re all ruDE they grill scorpius

but scorpius is best boy

best bf

and answers all their questions like a pro

(▰˘◡˘▰)

(▰˘◡˘▰)(▰˘◡˘▰)

ur so proud

you let ur head rest against scorpius’s shoulder and BITCH

scorpius presses a kiss to ur forehead

AJDKFJDSF

why are u so happy? what is this??

it’s just so gentle and soft and you feel your heart getting all mushy and warm

your friends all give a big collective aww because one, they’re annoying af and yes y’all are cute cute and this is cute

but reader ur going through some existential crisis

and later when you’re walking with scorpius to all your classes, you can’t stop thinking that hey, this fakedating thing isn’t that bad

but whatever it’s just cause u miss spending time with scorpius!

yes, that’s it!

you’re just sad that scorpius always hangs out with albus and you don’t get to see him as much

so this is nice!

you’re just going through some bff nostalgia atm pls wait for (y/n).exe to start working again

anyway now bc of this fakedating thing, you and scorpius just spend so much time together

like y’all have always been best friends, but this feels different okay

scorpius will run over to you when he sees you and wrap his arms around your waist

the first time he did it, he had the cuteness to go “is this okay? are you okay?  is this too much?

and YOUR HEART WENT !!!!!

you might’ve blushed

okay you did

but you convince yourself it’s just because ur touch starved

ʘ‿ʘ reader c’mon

but whenever you call scorpius and wave at him, his face just LIGHTS up

and you’re pretty sure yours does too

(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *ヽ(◕ヮ◕ヽ)

needless to say you kinda don’t want this all to end

because somewhere in the middle of all this, your head has gone from calling scorpius your fake boyfriend to your real boyfriend

and you don’t really want to go back to just being friends if you’re honest

wait hold up

uh oh

UH OH CODE RED

did you just admit you liked scorpius?? in a REALS way?

◉_◉

◉_◉ ◉_◉ ◉_◉

so like the only way you know how to deal with things, you avoid it!

you start to act really distant

and now whenever scorpius wraps his arms around you, you stiffen up

and scorpius like the angel he is pulls away so quickly bc ?? is his best friend upset? uncomfortable?

did HE make his best friend for life uncomfortable? omg this isn’t ok what is happening

everyone can tell sumn is up

ofc they can, what with you going to the extent of running away whenever you see scorpius and scorpius reacting like the entire light got blown out his life

and bruH scorpius may be innocent but he aiNT dumb

he knows your schedule he KNOWS you ignoring him

and baby is upset

because lately you’ve been starting to feel a lot more to him

and now you’re just gone??

that’s not okay and scorpius isn’t just gonna sit around and be sad

if there’s something he can do he’s gonna do all he can to try to fix it!

he corners you one day and holds up an angry piece of paper

“excuse me m’aam/sir but you broke rule number one which is, in case you forgot, don’t RUIN OUR FRIENDSHIP”

“oh haha uh scorpius! hi uhh gotta blast”

scorpius’s face falls

and that was it

you just wanna smush his face together and tell him things are fine and that you love him

wait WHAT

but scorpius is still staring at you with that wounded look

like you’ve just ripped up his heart and torn it to shreds

bc that’s kinda what you’re doing

omg what’ve you done

READER WHAT HAVE YOU DONE

“scorpius …”

his eyes lock onto yours so fast that you’re afraid he’s got whiplash

your mouth goes dry, and for a few moments it’s hard to talk

but you finally manage to tell him that “i don’t think we should fake date anymore.”

scorpius’s face breaks

his eyes go wide, and it looks like he wants to stagger.  and he almost does, just a little bit

“is it something i did?”

WHAT

this boy

scorpius malfoy really gonna be the death of you

you’re shaking your head back and forth so fast because NO of course not of course this isn’t his fault

scorpius is still teetering back and forth, and his arms start to wrap around himself.  “because i swear i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.  if i screwed up just tell me and i can fix it, (Y/N), please”

you shake ur head, already starting to panic.  “of course not.  it’s not YOU scorpius. i just can’t fake date you because --”

you clamp your hands over your mouth

“because?” scorpius prompts, his voice careful

you just shake your head, already starting to turn and run back to your dorms because this is stupid and you’re scared

big scared

but scorpius just takes your hand and tugs you backward a bit, almost like a scene from a movie

you do that perfect little twirl back and are face to face with the one and only

“do you … do you like me?” scorpius asks

that’s it

it’s out

you’re ready for your entire friendship with scorpius to come crashing down

“do you?” he repeats softly

you try to pull away but scorpius isn’t having it

he’s still holding onto your hand, gently, of course, and his eyes are boring into yours

you’re too scared to look because you’re afraid of what you’ll find

but when you can’t take it anymore and finally tilt your head up you realize something important

because his eyes aren’t full of disgust

in fact, that’s further from the truth

scorpius malfoy is staring at you with the biggest heart-eyes you’ve ever seen and you’re confused to how you’ve never seen this sooner

it’s almost like you’re his whole world, and now you can’t fucking breathe

is this real?

your heart’s pounding in your chest so fast and there’s something bursting at your lungs

you nod faintly.  “yes.  i like you”

the huge grin that spreads across scorpius’s face is everything

he rushes forward to pull you into a gigantic hug, even lifting you up a little as he spins you around and lets out a little happy shriek

“i’ve liked you forever, (y/n), i can’t believe this is real”

what

so u could’ve been dating scorpius before??

“you dork why didn’t you tell me?”

“because you didn’t like me like that!”

BITCH WHAT

“well maybe i was confused” you pipe back

scorpius just laughs, burying his head in your shoulder crook.  “i’m so happy right now.”

and honestly ?

so are you (´∀｀)♡

[definitelynottony]

Hi! Could you do prompts #20 and #43??? :)

Of course! This definitely turned into something way longer than I thought it would have lol. The whole story is kind of Billy's way of comforting Steve after their fight but then I added a little bit more at the end to really imply the prompt. Hope you enjoy it! 

#20: "How the fuck do you keep getting in my house?"

#43: comfort after a fight

Steve suddenly woke from yet another good dream turned bad. Body hot and slick from sweat, not sure if that's from the good part or the bad parts though. He even left his bat by his bed tonight for some comfort but it didn't help. Maybe it's due to the fact that he had that fight with Nance today? Or cause the kids have been talking about all that D&D crap lately? Or possibly, probably, it's definitely Billy's fault. 

Billy Hargrove, god seriously even thinking about him right now sends a chill through Steve. A hurricane in his gut, sets a fire loose in his veins. What he would do if he was here right now, the asshole.

They had that fight only a couple months back now, in November. Ever since then Billy had been, well… Let's just say entirely too friendly. The entire thing left Steve with whiplash. Steve never knew what he was going to get. Some days Billy would ignore him, which would have been fine with Steve. Especially considering he had to get stitches from that damn plate to his head. But it was the other days that got him, those days where Billy would just watch him. Or when he'd corner him when he was alone, in the locker room or in the parking lot. The first time it was to apologize. Whether it was a bat almost crushing his balls or a miraculous change of heart, Billy did apologize to Steve for that night. Said something along the lines of:

"It wasn't anything personal Harrington. I was angry to begin with and you were a pretty punching bag. When you hit back and I saw that fire in ya I- I just got carried away. Okay. I'm sorry, alright?" 

Needless to say Steve was so taken aback from the whole outburst that he basically just nodded in understanding. I mean the guy apologized, right? That's what Steve was waiting for (wasn't holding his breath but hopeful?) Plus he sort of just like...complimented him in a weird roundabout way so, yeah. That was that. There was no further discussion, no let's shake hands or let's be friends from now on. Just radio silence for a solid week afterwards.

But then it started, Billy that is. Billy started this new game of cat and mouse, hot and cold. Whatever you want to call it. He drove Steve bonkers with it. In the beginning he waited until he was alone and just started talking. Like they were friends?

"Good game Harrington. You're jump shots were fire today. And your defense game, you're finally planting your feet huh?." 

"Uh. Yeah, thanks man. You too I guess, good game." 

And that chatter slowly turned into Billy finding him in the hallway:

"Yo Harrington, you dropped this."

"Oh, thanks. Uh, wait this isn't mi-" 

Billy had left before Steve finished. Billy handed him a folded note, 'Under bleachers. 1:15'. Steve read it a few times with furrowed brows. This was either the part where Billy finishes the job and kills him or… well Steve didn't have an alternative but at 1:10 he made his way outside to the bleachers. It was his free period so it was either catching up on homework or quenching his curiosity. 

"So why exactly am I here?" Steve confronted Billy who was sitting stretch out smoking. He didn't respond to the brunette, just smirked and held out the joint. Steve starred between the roll and Billy but he shrugged and sat beside him and took it.

"I seriously don't get you Hargrove." 

"Nothing to get man. Told ya it was nothing personal." 

"Yeah but even before that shit you were like, I don't know, hassling me." 

"Cause you're fun to mess with princess. You make it too easy man. And the way your face gets, and your eyes get all wide. The shit was priceless pretty boy." 

Steve passed the joint back, 

"Whatever man. Fuck you." 

"That a threat or are you offering Harrington?" 

Steve choked on the smoke, eyes like saucers staring at Billy. The blonde smirked with sharp teeth before laughing, 

"See, too easy." 

"Yeah, no, fuck off man." But Steve kind of laughed too, not that he would admit it. Billy knocked into his shoulder before passing the joint back. 

Then that sort of became their thing. Billy would toss his head to Steve in passing or he would stop him and just tease him or compliment him. But that bitterness, the bite that was there before the showdown wasn't there. It was like a completely different person. Or more like Billy was the same person, he just stopped being an ass to Steve. Cause to everyone else, especially Tommy, he was still that brash jerk. 

"Hey Harrington! Think with all daddy's money you could just pay people to be your friends instead of being Wheeler's and Byers' little bitch." Tommy H. taunted. 

"Seriously Tommy, shut the fuck up." Steve flipped him off trying to walk away from the whole situation. 

"Hey Hall! You'd think with a mother like yours you'd have a bigger dick, but I guess you'll just never be half the man she is." 

Billy joined Steve's side. That little comment earned him a crowd's worth of 'oo's' and snickers from their peers. Tommy flipped Billy off and tucked his tail. More importantly it earned Billy a smirk and side glance from Steve. 

"You didn't have to do that. I know you and Tommy were friends or whatever." Steve stopped when they reached the BMW. 

"Didn't do nothing pretty boy. Plus Tommy and I were never friends. Can barely stand that guy man. You, you and me are friends." Billy stated as if he was saying 'the sky is blue' or 'water is wet'. So matter of fact that Steve almost believed him. 

"We're not friends though?" 

"Wow Stevie, you wound me. I share with you my weed and defend your honor, let you copy my homework and you just toss me aside like the broccoli they give you with Chinese take out." 

That sarcasm earned Billy a full on laugh, and it was beautiful. Steve bit his smile back and just shook his head. 

"You're actually crazy Hargrove." 

"And you're actually gorgeous Harrington." 

Steve blinked waiting for the punchline but Billy just kept smirking that sharp grin, licked his lips and Steve totally watched as he did it. 

"What…?" 

"Thought we were just stating facts amigo." 

"Oh, uh… you- you're not so bad yourself? I guess?" Steve floundered but Billy seemed to take it in stride. 

"Come on princess. Take me back to your place and I'll ignore your horrible compliment skills and share more of my weed with you." 

Billy invited himself and got into Steve's car.

So he guess they were friends now? 

Fast forward two months to the present day Steve, sweating and huffing out of a bad dream. A dream that started with him making out nice as can be with his lover, that turned to Nancy yelling at him for being with said lover to Nancy and his boyfriend getting eaten by demidogs. He woke out of  the nightmare but it's a bang from downstairs that actually woke him up. So he grabs the nail bat and heads down the staircase. He'd probably be more hesitant if he didn't already have a hunch as to what the noise was, or more appropriately who was making it.

"That you Hargrove?" Steve squinted his eyes in the darkness of his kitchen before switching on the light.

"Yeah it's me pretty boy, don't cream your pants."

"Dude, I could have killed you." 

"Yeah, you say that every time man. But, like, your catchphrase is getting kind of old fast especially since you haven't actually killed me yet." 

"Well maybe if you stopped sneaking into my damn house I wouldn't have to keep saying it! This is like the fifth time Billy! How the fuck do you keep getting in my house?"

"It really ain't that hard princess. Those locks on the windows ain't much ya'know. Just takes a pocket knife and some lean muscles." 

"You're serious? You know you're literally confessing to breaking and entering." 

"Didn't break anything." 

"What was that bang then?" 

"That was your care package." 

"Care- what? Billy why did you bring me a fucking care package at two in the morning?" Steve asked with little patience. 

"Jesus. I just wanted to be a good fucking boyfriend and comfort you man. Heard you and Wheeler had a fight earlier at lunch. Figured you'd be all bent out of shape about it." 

And they might have only been together for a month now but Billy seems to get Steve so well. He sighed before leaning the bat against the wall. 

"So what did you bring me?" He grinned crowding into Billy's space. Billy wrapped his arms around Steve's trimmed waist. 

"Me, I'm your care package." 

"God, I need to get better locks." Steve groaned into Billy shoulder.

"Or you can just give me some keys." 

"Not happening Hargrove." He lifted his head just to roll his eyes at the blonde.

"What, you don't trust me? That's-" 

"Do you ever stop talking?" 

"Mmm- make me princess." 

"I thought you said you came here to make me feel better." 

"Oh I am. I'm gonna make you feel so good baby." 

Billy growled low, that heat resettled into Steve's body. It hypnotized Steve, forced him to surge into a heated kiss that Billy instantly returned.

"Well what are you waiting for? You know the way around Hargrove."

[balmacedapascal-archive]

undrafted things 3/?

hey guys. guess what time it is? that’s right, it’s time for julie to ramble on and on and on about undrafted. again. even though nobody asked for it. woo. here we go. 

okay we’re gonna start off with some fotch love bc baby boy is just like sweetest guy in town, like he’s literally on the bench, giving maz this pep talk but in like a super down to earth way, like “being drafted doesn’t mean everythings gonna work out” “not getting drafted doesn’t mean you won’t do great things” like it’s precious. 

and then he’s like “i wrecked my arm and had to give up my pro ball careers but then i met the most beautiful woman ever and i married her” and it’s just like !!! how are you so precious!?

tree going up to bat the first time and doing the fucking sign of the cross with a handful of dirt, i laughed my ass off holy shit

the boys just striking out so fast it hurts.

“son of a biscuit” i swear to god that line right there means fotch has small children, try to change my mind

vinnie out in the field being a total cutie, one of the few times it isn’t patrick catching the ball out there, just so fucking proud of himself, i love this boy so gd much

our first time with pat up to bat. that immediate rage when he strikes out and just flings the bat as hard as he can at the dugout. little rage monster.

and then you’ve got vinnie, who’s dumb ass is just giggling - yeah, he’s fucking giggling - with each and every strike. 

garvey on the sidelines giving tips until david reminds him that baby boy ain’t playing. like garvey wants to be a team captain/coach/whatever so bad.

“BRIAN IS THE EMOTIONAL CORE OF THE BAND END OF STORY!”

the entire BSB debate gives me life and was the greatest scene ever omg. like this is the content i’m here for. a bunch of baseball idiots, sitting in the dugout and screaming at each other about 90s boy bands. thank you so much for that scene.

“BENCH BETS ARE OVER AGAIN FOR THE SECOND AND FINAL TIME!” ryan polacco is the biggest fucking drama queen and honestly it gives me life.

also i love the justin timberlake vs. nick carter commentary considering at this point, joe had done movies with both of them. 

that goddamn laugh from vinnie when garvey gets snapped at by maz, like this boy is such a fucking dummy, i love him but god he’s an idiot.

when ty gets the hit that gets maz home and polacco does that adorable little “yay for ty” cheer. so precious.

patrick meltdown #2.

between his complete freak out (i NEED to know if the bat breaking was intentional or accidental. I NEED TO KNOW.) to the face dells makes during the freak out to the way vinnie tries to get him to chill out in the outfield.

“you all right there murray? a little murray worry? you all right there little buddy? want to have a little catch? nice fun times?”

vinnie’s a fucking idiot but he’s my fucking idiot and i will protect him till the day i die. 

“how much you wanna bet murray kills someone before the end of the game?”

murray vs. zapata *dingding*

this whole scene was like emotional whiplash. like one minute it’s fucking comedy gold with some of the shit he’s saying.

“YOU THROW LIKE A BITCH AND YOU BAT A .250!” “patrick relax!” “SHUT THE FUCK UP DAD” “that’s my boy” (major shout out to brian for being an adorable dad on the sidelines)

and then it just goes and breaks my goddamn heart with pat’s entire speech about how maz deserved to make and how upsetting it was and how polacco wasted his talent and how pat knows he sucks at baseball and they’re all sad and it’s like the one time vinnie isn’t all happy and goofy and it’s just such an intense scene all of a sudden and it hurts.

“it’s bullshit this whole fucking world is bullshit nobody gets what they deserve good or bad.” such a good fucking line.

annnnnnnd on that note, i’m gonna end it here. shoutout to @browneyedfloozy for continuing to be an actual saint and put up with me and encourage me, these posts are all your fault and i mean that in the best possible way.

and if you guys ever want to talk undrafted, just hit me up.

[nickireadstfc]

The King’s Men, Chapter 8 – Baby, Now We Got Bad Blood

In which Neil’s birthday surprise bloody sucks, I have opinions about the Terrapins’ naming choices, Matt is too good for this world, and the Twinyard’s first attempt at Actual Human Interaction doesn’t quite go as planned.

Sounds good? Then it’s time for Nicki to read The King’s Men.

(This is a longass chapter and lots of shit happens, so this is a longass update. I’m sorry in advance.)

             Neil flipped his phone open to stare at the date. It was Friday, January 19th. “Neil Josten” was supposed to turn twenty on March 31st. Today Nathaniel Wesninski turned nineteen years old.

OH SHIT IT’S HIS BDAY!!! HAPPY BIRBDAY MY BOY!!!!!

And we almost made it in time as well! 12 days late, but still – happy late birthday, my dude.

Actual footage of my baking disaster ass making a cake for our birthday boy.

Sadly though, Neil doesn’t care much for his birthday, and because he tragically keeps his mouth shut about it for most of the chapter, neither can anyone else.

I love birthdays. How dare you deprive me of some good good festivity. This is a gosh darn shame, Josten.

             Neil knew he went to his classes, but he didn’t learn anything. He wrote down what his teachers said but didn’t absorb a single word.

In other news, when will Neil in uni stop being such a goddamn #MOOD.

Exam season is hitting me hard right now folks, and while I’m tryinfg to play catch-up on my notes this just feels like an unnecessary callout post to my lazy past self.

In other other news – it’s time for Orange Sportsball again!

Our Foxes are playing a home game against Belmonte which, if you’ll all kindly remember, resulted in The Most Epic Move Andrew Has Ever Pulled, Ever last time we played them.

So, you know, no pressure.

Before Neil can pop a boner about being on an actual game court again though, he has a little birthday surprise waiting for him, and it’s, well, how do I put this –

A bloody hell of a situation.

             It exploded in his locker, triggered by the door opening, and Neil recoiled as it cascaded over everything insde. (…) The bag looked big enough to hold at least two gallons; it was more than big enough to destroy every single piece of gear Neil owned.

WHAT THE FUCK.

For all y’all non-American folks, two gallons are about 7.5 litres. SEVEN POINT FIVE LITRES.

For further reference, that’s about as much as would fit in this bucket.

Yeah.

THAT’S A FUCKLOAD OF BLOOD.

WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON.

             Neil wrenched the broken bag off the hook. When he turned to throw it Andrew caught his wrist. Neil hadn’t even heard Andrew cross the room toward him. (…)

             “It’s ruined,” Neil said, voice ragged with an awful rage. “It’s all ruined.”

Yup – his entire gear, complete with helmet and shoes, now looks like it played a supporting role in the Red Wedding, and really took on some method-acting for it.

But we’re not done here, oh hot diggity shit no.

             Matt’s startled voice echoed off the bathroom walls. “What the hell?” (…)

             Written in blood across the tile was a bold message: “Happy 19th Birthday, Jr.”

OH SHIT.

OH SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT.

DAD’S HOME, FOLKS.

I am decidedly NOT FUCKING LIKING THIS.

I don’t even want to think about what this means.

If this is the Raven’s doing (which was what I thought about the blood), then that means they’re more in touch with Daddy Wesninski than we thought, which is super bad.

If this is Daddy Wesninski’s own doing, then he’s way more in touch with Getting Revenge On Neil than we thought, which is super super bad.

Either way –

(I also immediately regret calling Wesninski Senior ‘Daddy’. Please remind me to bleach my eyes at the next convenient time.)

             He grabbed the fledgling sense of panic and buried it deep, the same way he’d smothered his broken heart long enough to burn his mother’s body. He would have to react to this later, but if he did it now with all of the Foxes as his witnesses he was going to lose everything.

And bury it he does – Neil, that badass motherf*cker, just buries oh, y’know, the realization that his childhood abuser and indirect killer of his mother is figuratively right behind him,  somewhere in his brain and moves the fuck on.

What a dude.

             “Can you play?” Kevin asked.

             “I’m pissed off, not injured,” Neil snapped. “I’m not going to let this keep us from winning tonight. Are you?

GO GET EM, MY BOY.

WHAT A DUDE.

             “I will give you one chance tonight,” Wymack said. “If I think your head isn’t in the game, I will pull you so fast you’ll get whiplash.”

HSM basketball gifs will never not be appropriate for this team.

In the cleanup process of the Bloody Hell of a Situation, Matt steps out to grab some underwear for a half-naked Neil, and when he comes back he takes the opportunity to remind us all again what a genuinely great character he is – lest we forget.

             Neil opened the door just far enough to realize it was Matt in the hallway and was startled into saying, “You knocked?” (…)

             It wasn’t the first time the Foxes had gone out of their way to accommodate Neil#s privacy issues, but they usually had time to think it through. Matt was late for warm-ups because of Neil and shaken by Riko’s awful trick. Despite that he’d remembered not to barge in.

Matt, you sweet considerate spikey black Billie Joe Armstrong, LET ME LOVE YOU.

And now that Neil is all suited and booted (and had his anger horn tooted), let’s fucking go.

             The ghost of [the blood incident] egged him to go harder and faster. Kevin didn’t warn him to scale back, and they crashed into their backliner with an unusual aggression.

To the Foxes, what the fuck is unusual aggression?? Instantly fucking murdering a dude right there on the field?

“Unusual Agression” is pretty much those guys’ team motto, folks.

Unsurprisingly, our Foxy Sportsball Squad totally rules the following game, no biggie.

Nothing like a bit of blood, childhood trauma and accidental nudity to get fired up before a big game.

             Two minutes later, the Foxes got the chance they needed. A Terrapin striker got around Matt and raced at the goal. (…) Andrew was outside of his box in a heartbeat, and he body-checked the striker hard enough to floor him.

GET REKT.

Also, to remind y’all non-Native English speakers (like me) what a Terrapin is, it’s these cute lil fellas.

Not exactly a threatening opponent.

Not so much a fast one either. Who the fuck thought that naming choice was a good idea, like “yeah, sure, let’s call our skilled Sportsball team after fucking turtles”.

The Team of Poor Naming Choices gets what they deserve, in any case – the Foxes run right over them and celebrate an epic 8-5 victory.

             Wymack and Abby were waiting for them, Wymack with a toothy grin and Abby all smiles.

I love me some supportive Fox Parents.

However, the party is pretty much over instantly as the Foxes are back on their infighting bullshit.

             Allison (…) kept her eyes on Neil. “I’ve hit the limit of what bullshit I’ll tolerate this week, let alone this year. I need to know how much worse this pissing contest between you and Riko is going to get.”

Can we have literally….. 5 seconds of happy celebratory peace up in this bitch, thank you.

At least Wymack feels me.

             “I’m instigating a new rule where everyone is required to be happy after a win. You downers are going to suck the life out of me before my time.”

Thank you, my man.

Allison is kind of right, though – they do need to really fucking talk about this.

             “First off: the massacred elephant in the room. Massacred birds, rather. I called in a favour with the faculty and got Abby access to the microscopes in the science labs.”

Oh, that is morbid.

If that Bloody Hell of a Situation was the Ravens’ doing, then that is the most macabre symbolism I’ve seen in a while.

If it was Wesninski Sr’s – then I don’t want to think about the symbolism, quite frankly.

Which reminds me of an interesting point: Everyone is automatically assuming Riko did this. This makes sense considering almost no one knows of the existence of Neil’s dad, but Neil does not only seem to be playing along, but he seems to have the same opinion. The writing on the wall clearly said “Junior” – why isn’t he considering the fact that it could have just as well been his dad?

Obviously, don’t get me wrong here, knowing their power situation Riko/Tetsuji are still behind all of it and would know of what Neil’s dad is doing to Neil. But to me, this doesn’t sound like Riko’s style. Gallons of blood set up like a crude school prank and words written in blood – this sounds much more like a man who calls himself The Butcher than a rich sleek featherfucker.

Unsurprisingly, Neil isn’t exactly a fan of presenting his entire life story to his team. However, a certain someone who is still massively Salty™ at Neil for ratting him out to his girlfriend intervenes.

             “They’ll never find proof that Riko was involved in this,” Aaron said, “but they might find you, right? (…) Your looks, your languages, your lies – you’re running from something or someone.”

Ohhhhhhhhhh shit.

This is CALLOUT CULTURE.

While the team is busy collecting their jaws from the floor, Neil makes a weak attempt at sassing his way out of this situation.

             Keeping his voice calm took every ounce of energy he had left. “You know, I expected low blows and backstabbing from the Ravens. I thought Foxes were better than that.”

Don’t generalize, my dude.

Dan, Matt and Renee would never.

Neil then does worm his way out of this situation, though – by making a Bad Callout Situation a Worse Callout Situation, Like So Much Worse, Oh God.

             “I’m still waiting for a thank you,” Neil said. “From both of you, to each other. You’re even now, aren’t you? So why can’t you just wipe the slate clean and start over? (…) You don’t want me to be right, because if I am it’s your fault she’s dead.”

             Andrew finally joined the argument. “No. It’s always going to be her fault.”

Oh no, honey, please don–

             “I told her what would happen if she raised her hand again. She had no right to look so surprised.”

DID YOU JUST.

             Wymack pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled noisily. “Could you at least let us leave the room before you confess?”

Same, my dude.

Also hah, nose puns.

             It took Aaron a minute to find his voice again. He still sounded angry, but there was a muted edge to his, “You wouldn’t even look at me. You wouldn’t say a word to me unless I said something first. I’m not psychic. How was I supposed to know?”

             “Because I made you a promise,” Andrew said. “I did not forget it just because you chose not to believe me. I did what I said I would do, and fuck you for expecting anything else.”

And this paragraph right there, this is so, so important because it just sums up both their worldviews perfectly.

Aaron is still the more “normal” one of the twins – hard and bitter, but eventually the more grounded, the more realistic brother. But he also never really got to know Andrew, the real Andrew – whether out of fear of him or out of Andrew’s refusal. Andrew didn’t talk to him, and Aaron never learnt who exactly he was dealing with, so how was he supposed to know?

Andrew, on the other hand, makes promises and sticks to them, absolutely no matter what. He doesn’t care about the means to achieve his goals, he is colder and more ruthless than Aaron – or any sane person – ever could be. And in his world, this all makes sense – legit murder isn’t out of proportion, nothing can be, when it comes to keeping those he cares for safe (lizziedunbar99 made an excellent point on this the other day). When he protects someone, he protects them, all or nothing, and fuck anyone for expecting anyone else.

Yes, hello, I love these idiots.

             There it was again: a hint of that infinite anger at Andrew’s core. (…) He put his hand up between [the twins]. A heartbeat later Andrew’s expression went dead. Neil regretted his intervention immediately. No one could let go of that much rage that easily; Andrew had simply buried it where it could hurt only him.

And the moment that anger finally, healthily (!) breaks free will be the happiest day in this goddamn series.

Or, y’know, everything will go up in flames, but them’s the risks when you’re dealing with our favourite Murder Maniac.

In other news – in case you forgot (which I did), the other Foxes are still present, and they do kind of want answers at this point.

             “Is [your past] going to be a problem?” Dan asked.

             “No,” Neil said.

             Allison arched a brow at him (…) “Are you sure about that?”

I want Allison to please barge into conversations like this always, her head appearing over the scene John Cena-style.

This meme is long dead, but watch me give no shits.

             “Riko knows who I am because our families operate in similar circles, but he is a Moriyama in name only. He doesn’t have the resources to do more than threaten me.”

             “Damn, Neil,” Matt said. “Your parents must be something else if even Riko’s got to follow the rules.”

Oh hon, oh my sweet summer child, you have no idea.

And with that, the conversation is blissfully over, and we have only two tiny things to get to before this monster of a chapter is finally done.

First, Neil gets a text message:

             He didn’t recognize the number or the area code. He understood the message even less: “49”. Neil gave it a minute, but nothing else was forthcoming. He deleted the text and put his phone away.

Ah well, I’m sure this ominous and vaguely threating thing was merely a wrong number and is totally not going to come back to haunt our asses a few chapters from now.

And second, the Normal People Squad still has some opinions on the Murder Situation:

             “Just like that,” Matt said dubiously. “You’ve always known what he’s capable of, but you said he’s never given you a real reason to be afraid of him. What the hell are your parents into, if you can glide past murder like it’s no big deal and get in Riko’s face all the time?”

OH HON, OH MY SWEET SUMMER CHILD.

Also, me a few books ago.

Oh, how far we’ve come.

Unsurprisingly, yet to my great delight, Renee is not as shellshocked as Dan and Matt about Andrew’s confession, and offers some much-needed insight.

             “We cannot understand the situation entirely, Dan. We will never know Andrew’s frame of mind at the time or how bad life with her was for them. All we can do is make a choice: believe that he was protecting Aaron or condemn him for taking the most extreme path. I would rather go with the former.”

Mic drop, sweet smile, Renee out.

God, I love this girl.

If you like what I do here and you want me to continue writing fun things for you, why not buy me a coffee? Every lil bit helps, getting me through uni and all that jazz. Thanks so much!

[logan-are-you-okay]

Marriage Behind Closed Doors

Chase couldn’t stop, no matter how hard he tried the images came flooding back to him. Stacy might’ve seem nice, sweet on the outside, but she was a nightmare dressed like a Day Dream. She wouldn’t believe him when he said that he wasn’t flirting with the girl after a “bro average” shoot, or that he wasn’t off with some slut to have sex. Stacy would always call him every hour to check up on him, but when he didn’t pick up right then... hell would be paid when he would get home. Chase tried everything that he could to please her, but nothing seemed to work.

He slowly raises his hand to the scar that he had on the corner of his eye. She had been very abusive during the whole relationship, but that one scar he can’t not see. Always in the corner of his vision, always when he looked in the mirror, every time he filmed a episode the fans would ask where he go it. Yes he has many other scars from her, but those are all underneath his clothing. Mainly on his back and chest.

Slowly turning over to the opposite side of the bed he looks out the window on this rainy night, he used to find the rain peaceful. The crashing sound of thunder, the brightness of the lightning striking the ground, the soft pitter pattern of rain drops hitting the window. He adored it, it was his one place where he could escape to when everything went wrong... but not anymore. Slowly closing his eyes, he remembers that day. All to recent, it was only a couple months ago.

He had just walked home from the shoot of a ‘Bro Average’ video, and was taking his time walking in the rain. Letting the cold droplets run down his bright green hair and down his face. His eyes where half lidded as he walked, it was very close to midnight after all. Stacy had called him about around nine o’clock and he didn’t answer. His manger wanted to go over an idea for relocating the set to LA, because there was a man by the name of ‘Bing’ who had offered to help progress the series to become global. Chase was so excited to tell Stacy, but when he saw that he missed her call... he wasn’t as excited.

Once he had finally got home, he opened the door and went inside. Taking off his shoes before he walked on the hardwood, Stacy hated a messy house. He was finally able to work the nerve up to walk into the bedroom, and talk to her. He had just hoped to god that she was asleep, so he could think over what to tell her in the morning... his prayers didn’t work. As soon as he opened the door he was met with a hard ass slap to his face. It was so hard his head snapped to that direction and made him fall over. Chase remembered the vicious look in her eyes as she lowered her body down to his eye level.

“Where the fuck where you?” The harsh tone still rings in his ears, even to this day.

“I was walking home from-“ he gets cut off mid-sentence with a sharp tug of his hair pulling him into the room and a large slam against the door that took the wind out of him.

“Don’t lie to me you son of a bitch! It’s nearly midnight and you DARE have the motherfucking guts to tell me you where at that damn SHOOT all day?!” She practically screams.

Instinctively his fingers clench onto the pillow he was sleeping on. Why couldn’t his mind just shut off for two minutes so he can sleep in peace?

“Honey, quiet down... you’ll wake up the-“ this time Stacy grabbed him by the collar of his shirt pulling him closer to her in a fast motion. Almost fast enough to give some one whiplash.

“Don’t tell me what I can or can not do, cunt! You belong to me, not the other way around! You don’t talk to bitches, you don’t look at bitches, you sure as HELL don’t talk to me like a bitch!” She said as she dug her nails into the skin on his arm. He screwed his eyes so that he wouldn’t yell out. It was the middle of the night, he didn’t want his kids to wake up early and be tired for school the next day. Even though how badly he just wanted to call out for help.

“Stacy... I d-didn’t have the car today... y..you did, I had to w-walk home...” he tried to explain with a desperate plea in his voice.

“Sooooo is that suppose to tell me that you didn’t happen to fuck the girl you where talking to when I called? What’s her name... Yolanda?” With that sentence his eyes popped open and he saw the rage fulled eyes staring back at him.

“Y-Yolanda is just my manager... where you stalking m-me?” He managed to squeal out. Why would she have snuck in and spied on him at work? Does she really not trust him that much?

“Like Hell She is, I saw those plastic breast that she was trying to fucking show off!”

“Please baby... lower your voice... swearing is bad for the kids ears-“ He then was met with being thrown across the room and landing on the edge of the frame that held the bed. He wasn’t able to catch himself and his head hit directly on the corner. He was able to land on his knees, but he felt something running down his face as he slowly got up. He slowly touched what he felt, pulled it back, and saw the blood.

“I don’t fucking care Chase! You are MINE and MINE alone!”

Chase Quickly sits up from the bed in a panic breathing quickly and heavily. He doesn’t want to remember, he doesn’t! Why should he remember such a horrible time in his life!? He then starts to cry at the top of his lungs and just scream as if he was getting murdered.

Screaming is the easiest way to get it out of his system, people always say that guys shouldn’t hit girls. That women are to precious and can’t handle themselves. Not once as he touched her in anyway to be abusive, never slapped, hit, punch, rape, anything! It’s perfectly fine for a women to grab a man and sexually assault him while she was drunk... while he couldn’t fight back because of morals. He couldn’t even fight back or he would be put in jail... no one ever suspects a man to be getting abused... no one ever thinks that a girl could ever harm someone to such an extent... no one ever thinks that the bruises, scars, dried blood is from the nature of a unhinged mother.

They all think ‘Hey, he must be a real daredevil to get those scars’ or ‘He must be a major cults.’ No one believes him when he tried to tell someone. They all say, ‘take like a man, or your just being a pansy.’

Even being this far away from her and being in possession of the kids, she still manages to haunt him. Still torment him as if she was right there beating him up all over again. Thankfully she was arrested for a DUI so he got possession while she’s in jail... but it doesn’t help. Yes he’s safe with the kids, but the past eight years of marriage can cause some seriously horrible PTSD.

“It’s three in the morning, so would you please stop screaming so I can get some sleep.” A sudden sharp voice blazes through the room.

Chase Quickly stops and looks right at the door frame. His heart nearly stops as he sees Bing in the door way in his tight black tank top and boxers. After Stacy got arrested he took the offer from his manager and moved to LA with his kids. Bing really wanted the show to work so he offered his place for Them to stay at while Chase searches for an official home to move into.

“Dude, have you been crying?” Bing asks with a concern tone.

What had he been crying!? Oh shit, just his fucking luck! Quickly he wipes away his tears as Bing slowly came walking into the room. Bing might’ve been your typical douchebag skater boy, but he knew when it was time to calm down and help someone.

“I-It’s nothing! J-just... just a little nightmare is all!” Chase says trying to reassure, but he was shaking. A dream wouldn’t do that so easily.

He then watches as Bing sits on the bed next to him, and his heart starts going a million miles a minute! Yes he might’ve just woken up, but he sure as hell was awake now! Chase has always had a crush on the most famous ‘BingIplier’ after watching his famous segments on ‘Markiplier TV’ station. He knows it seems bad... but he’s always been bisexual. He always preferred men over the women, but growing up you couldn’t be gay. It was never social acceptable so he just went with the other option. Maybe he should’ve just went against natures laws...

“Chase... I know that it wasn’t just a nightmare. Come on Bro, what do you take me for? An idiot?” He says with a joking manner trying to lighten the mood, but it doesn’t help.

Chase looks away from him and stares at the thunder storm out the window. He might not enjoy it anymore, but it’s better then looking at the chunk of meat next to him. Trying to calm down his shaking hands and heart he takes a deep breath and lets his eyes go lidded. He just needs to calm down... deep breaths... in and out... not long his brain goes back to a different time Stacy hurt him and his eyes screw up with a small flinch. Why can’t he just escape these memories? What did he do that was so wrong that god had to torture him like this? He’s never smoked, hurt anyone... badly, or kill anyone... guess the saying that bad things happen to good people comes into affect, huh?

Suddenly he feels a pair of warm, masculine arms wrap around him as his eyes dart open as his body tenses up.

“Bing!? What are you-“

“Sh... Sh... it’s okay, I promise.” There was a calming and sense of peace to his tone of voice. At first his mind went a thousand miles an hour! What does this mean!? Is he just trying to comfort him!? Is he just doing this for show!? Is he trying to gain trust and make him like HIM better!? After several minutes of letting this happen, Chase slowly lets his muscles relax into the embrace. Not a single thought of panic crossed his mind. It was... peaceful... warm... sweet... and he felt safe... something that he hasn’t felt in a long time. He even finally starts to fall asleep as he looks up at Bing who was playing with Chases hair.

“I won’t ask tonight, but I expect answers in the morning.” Bing says with a commanding, but kind voice.

Chases eyes completely close with a small nod of his head in agreement, he didn’t mean to, but it just happened. He finally falls asleep, something he hasn’t done in months. The only thing is... is that Bing didn’t leave after Chase had fallen asleep. Nothing wrong with that, just bro’s being dudes... right?

( @untrustworthyglitch I tried the dialogue text you gave me! Also @alaughingfreak tried to make a little angst, don’t know if it worked)

[semenguine]

she comes back looking not better exactly but calmer. and i think she took more xanax. hey, i say quietly. not done yet? she says. she sits next to me and folds a shirt. i smile awkwardly. it’s kind of poorly done. so i shake it out and do it again myself. she snorts. look, she says. sorry for freaking out on you. she smiles at me and looks all macho about it . i look away as not to have my thoughts muddled by her sexiness. um, she pauses. y’know. like... you don’t have to worry about me, honestly. i’m going through a little bump in the- 

please don’t, i say. you don’t have to tell me that you’re not fine but i’d prefer you didn’t lie to me. she falls silent. baby, she says, finally. why are you- i interrupt. eden, please. i shake my head at her and keep on folding. you’re not exactly the most open book either, she accuses. i know, i say. i’m working on it. i keep folding. why would i dump my shit on you, huh? eden asks. you’re pregnant. you just got raped. i know, i say. and i know i’m too messed up to be helpful. that’s why i want you to talk to your friends. they’re there for you, eden. they’re your friends, and they care. and if they knew something was wrong they’d want to help.

yeah, i know that, eden says. like, i just don’t want people to know that shit about me, she laughs, like it’s funny. i’m no uwu soft boy. i stare at her. i’m no, uh, smol bean, she continues. you think less of your friends when they tell you they’re going through something? i ask. you know full well i don’t, she says. like. i dunno. i love that they feel comfortable talking about how they feel and i like helping them. but i’d look stupid trying that- and not to sound like a little bitch or anything, but nobody would really get it anyway. 

well, i say. you’ve hardly given anyone a chance or even the benefit of the doubt. you don’t need to talk about shit if you have xanax honestly, eden says. i am silent. i sound fucking dumb, she laughs. you sound like someone who needs to talk to somebody, i say. nah, she says. nah.. i just don’t want people to know that shit, she repeats. she starts to fold another shirt, i take it from her and do it myself. you think they’ll think less of you? i ask. no, i just, eden sighs. i mean, it’s not my thing.

doing drugs and internalizing your pain is your thing, i say. jesus, eden says. i mean yeah, yes. i mean. better that than me dumping my bitch boy feelings all over the place and looking like a fucking idiot. you think people who share their feelings are idiots? i ask. i don’t think that, eden says. i’m just saying that i look like an idiot when i do that. i raise my brows. honestly, she laughs. i sound dumb enough as it is. she keeps laughing as if it will make these scary depressing self-deprecating concerning things she is saying suddenly obviously just for humour. but it’s obvious she means them. i really have to minimize how fucking stupid i am, she laughs again. it’s still not funny. even if she laughs it’s not funny. can’t do that if i’m just stumbling around compulsively oversharing every single little thing that’s wrong with me, she continues. and honestly, who fucking cares? like, i’m fine. that’s actually like. i don’t give a fuck about anything. when have you ever known me to give a shit about something, right? nothing bothers me. i’m fine. 

right, i say. yeah, eden says. and then she startles me by saying, quite casually, i swear i’m just taking xanax until i don’t constantly want to blow my fucking brains out anymore. i am still and silent. eden? i say. yeah? she says. i can’t- i can’t have this conversation with you, i say. oh, eden says. yeah, shit. sorry. i’m sorry. that was a lot. my bad. no, i say. i just. i inhale. you need to talk to somebody, okay? nah, i’m fine, eden says. that’s what i came here to tell you, is that i’m OK and you don’t need to worry about me.

you just told me you want to kill yourself all the time, i say. doesn’t everyone though, laughs eden. that’s the thing, eden, i say. not everyone feels that way. most people don’t. and a lot of those people who don’t? they don’t feel that way because they got help. i’m fine, she insists. you worry too much. i’m not gonna kill myself. why do you think i got the xanax?

and the fentanyl? i demand. she shrugs. sometimes you just don’t wanna fucking think, you know? eden says. a lot of the times i don’t... she laughs. not that i ever think anyway. i stare at her. i want to vomit. it’s so easy to just black out with alcohol, eden says. with all these drugs you have to.. mix and match and.. take and take.. and if you don’t do it just right it fucking takes you out. she actually doesn’t seem to be 100% cognizant of the fact that i’m listening anymore. it’s fucking exhausting. i dunno. i’m getting so tired of being alive, she laughs. and then she says something that makes my blood run cold, she says. if this is what your world’s like i don’t know how the hell you’re still here. 

then she says sorry man, i’m sorry. i’m being so stupid. just ignore me. god, i’m not saying anything important. um, i say. you wanna have some friends over? i can invite jess and- bessie might still be downtown and- whoever you want, and you guys can talk. nah, eden says. i’m alright. you sound, i say, i choke on my fear. 

i really do feel so good right now, honest, eden says. like i can do any, and then she shuts up. she shuts right up so fast it gives me whiplash. please don’t hate me, she says. i need alcohol. eden, i say. um, i kind of, i kind of, she presses her palms together. um, i’m stuck. i’m stuck, she says. sierra, i can’t. sierra. do you want me to call your mom? i think i am shaking, i’m not really sure. no, eden says. she laughs. there’s really nobody to call. she laughs harder. that’s on me though. she starts laughing hysterically. my cheeks are wet with something, with tears. if you try it i’ll call the cops, i say. 

oh god, she’s still laughing, please don’t cry. she wipes at my cheeks. i’m fine. i’m fine, i’m OK. she laughs so hard she doubles over. she’s like that for almost 10 minutes, just laughing and laughing til she cries. and then she pushes it all down way deep inside of her. just like that. she leans back, takes a deep breath. today’s just a rough day, she says. i have no idea what to do or say. i just go back to folding the clothes. it’s so rhythmic, it makes me feel better. i think i’m gonna go for a walk, she says. i nod and fold fold fold fold fold

[bigpapawarmlap]

imma bitch about my 2d design class real fast

well imma bitch about two ppl from that class actually

okay so theres this weeb, annoying as fuck; one of those ppl who are like teach me to draw like you;everythings kawaii; talks about overwatch every damn class

I normally don't have a problem with her she seems pretty chill besides those qualities: but today i did the daily ritual of drawing on our whiteboard, and i draw a cat cuz thats all i can mcfucking draw decent. She comes iver and is like "oh wiw kawaii" mind you its only 12:30 pm its too damn early for that shit and its in the year if 2017. I appreciate that she likes my art buT PLEASE GIVE ME AN ACTUAL COMPLIMENT

Okay now lets move onto this dude who doesn't shut the fuck up. He's one of those assholes who thinks that all of his opinions are correct, if you like something that he thinks its bad then its bad only he likes good stuff, he also tried to rile people up and makes people mad on purpose.

Anyway he goes on his classly speal on what stupid bullshit argument he "won" last night and its already annoying. God damn is he annoying. Some how we get onto the topic of abortions. He starts off with saying"i put half of the work into this baby so you shouldn't kill it," I was shooketh.

This dude is very liberal all but that. I got whiplash. Like excuse me bitch. All you have to do is pump your dick into someone with a vagina for like 5 minutes shot half a teaspoon if cum and that's "50%". Listen here buddy boy you don't have to carry the kid for 9 goddamn months, suffer excruciating pain while delivering said child, have your body be torn apart, or deal with all the negative connotations that come with being an expecting mom(which is occasionally depending on the person).

I replied that he has no say in what the woman can do with her body and he brings up the argument that it'd be like holding a cake that you and a person mde in the other fridge????? What the fuck. No. If you only bring one damn ingredient that isn't half of the work. He also broke a ruler to prove his "point" mind you these rulers are brandnew and expensive. He is irrkn. Oooooooooo Another thing is that when i said that men's opinions on female reproductive organs don't matter a girl across from me said that they do?? bITCH WHAT You were cool ten seconds ago,,, most men don't have a vagina therefore they shouldn't have a opinion on what they do with their body. I just hes so irritating i hate sitting by him. he also sakes the whole damn table while we work,,, another thing is that he thinks he's the best artist in the class??? Like what??? No honey half of the class is better than him, i just i hate him

He also threatened me??? He bragged about how he could knock me out??? Like doesn't it look like i cared. Bitch I've tried to kill myself three trimes and i still don't give a fuck??? What is your knock out gonna do??? Does it look like i care? end me

I talked o another friend who had/has him in her class sAME DAMN THING THERE TOO SO FULL OF HIMSELF.

That whole damn class irritates me.

Community college sucks yall,,,

[anavoliselenu]

Creighton chapter 17

“The label is going to shift the entire record around after you turn this bad boy in. I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s the first single.”

His words fill my chest with warmth, and I pick up my guitar and flip a page in my notebook. The rest of these are going to bare my soul just as much, so I might as well get through them and make them as good as they can possibly be. This is more than my career, this is my passion, and I’m blessed to have this chance—and lucky to have Vale’s time.

“You ready to hear the next one?”

“Lay it on me, girl.”

I begin to play, and the smile on his face grows. By the time I finish, he’s rubbing his hands together.

“Okay, a few tweaks to the chorus, a rework of the bridge, and I think this one is going to be fucking awesome too.”

I reach for my pen. “Let’s do it.”

Vale packs up his guitar and leaves the bus at a quarter to twelve. We shake hands, and I feel like he’s seeing me as a professional now, which is validation I didn’t realize I wanted from him. I’m not just the naive girl who stepped off the stage of Country Dreams; I’m a rising talent in the world of country music, on both the songwriting and performing fronts.

With that confidence bolstering me, I tinker with the songs some more until the clock reads 12:20. Still no sign of Justin.

My confidence in Justin and not being an afterthought takes a blow, however. He’s still gone, and he hasn’t called. I’m interrupted from the slow slide into the pit of doubt by my buzzing cell phone—the one that arrived that arrived yesterday via express mail. Inside the box was a note from Tana.

Don’t you dare let your focus slip from that tour to your husband’s fine ass. This is your future, girl. Love ya, T.

Even long distance, she’s still dispensing her brand of wisdom, and it was a good reminder.

My phone buzzes again, and I finally look down. I don’t recognize the number, and normally I’d let it go to voice mail, but right now, I’ll take any distraction I can get.

“Hello?”

“Will you accept a collect call from the Clay County Jail?” a computerized voice asks.

What the hell? I haven’t gotten a call from jail in a long time. Not since the year before I moved in with Gran, and Mama was thrown out of a bar for fighting over her latest in a long string of men.

I should hang up, but my curiosity and need for avoidance spur me to respond, “Yes, I’ll accept the charges.”

The voice that comes next sucks me right back into the past.

“Hey, baby. Mama missed you.”

After the fifteenth in-person interview is complete, I finally have two competent security professionals assigned to Selena. The security contractor didn’t object to me doing the interviews, but he did object to me bringing in someone who wasn’t on his team.

“We can’t vouch for him, and if something goes down, we won’t be taking responsibility for it.”

“I can vouch for him,” I say, looking over my shoulder at the brick shithouse who barred me from getting backstage in San Antonio.

His name was easy to get, and his background check showed he was a three-tour Army combat vet formerly of the First Infantry Division.

The man proved his character to me when he turned down my money, but I never would have considered letting him near Selena without a clean background check and a personal interview. He was late coming in from San Antonio, and now I’m running late for lunch with Selena.

A check of my watch shows I’m running really fucking late. As in, if I make it back to the bus in ten minutes, I’ll be just in time to tag along to the radio spot.

Glancing at my two new hires, I wave my hand toward the Escalade. “Load up. Your new job starts now.”

When we arrive back at the bus, it’s empty. Chaz, the driver, is smoking a cigarette and shooting the shit with the crew. According to him, Selena left only a few minutes earlier.

We pile back into the Escalade and head for the highway, which is closed. For a goddamn presidential visit.

“Fuck!” I slam my fist against the dash.

“Sorry to say it, boss, but we ain’t gonna make it on time. This ain’t my hood, so I don’t know the back roads like I would if we were in SA.”

Earlier, I handed off the keys to Marcus, aka the brick shithouse. Ironically, he wasn’t trained in evasive driving maneuvers like the other guy I hired, but considering he dodged roadside bombs in a Humvee, I feel pretty comfortable with him behind the wheel. It would remain to be seen who would be driving Selena around when I wasn’t with her.

I scrub a hand over my face.

“Yeah. I know. Shit. By the time traffic clears, she’ll probably already be on her way to the venue.” I glance from Marcus to the guy in the rear of the SUV. “Let’s head back, and I’ll introduce you to her crew first, and then Selena. She might balk, but regardless of what she says, you stick to the plan. You report to me, not her.”

The man in the back nods wordlessly.

From the driver’s seat, I get an altogether different response. “You gonna be up shit creek for being late, boss?”

I think about how I left things with Selena.

“Then kiss me. Mark me. Let him know that I’m absolutely and completely out of his reach because I belong to you.”

I’m not sure I’ll ever forget her words. They’re etched on my brain and have reverberated ever since she spoke them.

When I started down this road, I couldn’t have envisioned ending up in this position. And I’m not talking about the fact that I’m in an Escalade with two bodyguards driving down the side streets of Dallas. I’m talking about the fact that I’m caught up in this woman in a way that I’ve never been with another. It might have started out as purely physical, but I should have whiplash from how fast things have changed.

Leaving her alone with Vale went against all my possessive instincts, but I’m finding that I trust her, which is a new development for me. My last marriage, as short as it was, left me with a healthy distrust of women.

I met Shaw when I purchased a chain of luxury resorts off the auction block. It was founded by her grandfather and then run into the ground by her father before she could take control. She was ambitious, driven, and totally and completely pissed that her family legacy was circling the drain.

I tried to fire her, but she refused to leave, saying she’d work for free if I would just let her stay. I caved, and not only a little because her passion for the business was contagious. Shaw was an amazing leader of people. Charismatic, and also absolutely gorgeous.

I opted to take a personal role in the turnaround, and one thing led to another. We were a great team when it came to business, and more than compatible everywhere else. It made sense, or at least it did when Shaw pitched the idea to me like the skilled businesswoman she was. We were married within six months to the day I met her, and in a moment of generosity, I agreed in the prenup that she could keep the resorts if things didn’t work out.

Three months after the wedding, I realized that the resorts were all she really wanted out of the deal. This was the first and only time I met someone who was a cagier negotiator than I was.

She was in love with someone else the entire time, and viewed me as the quickest and easiest way to reclaim her family legacy. The only thing that kept me from being crazy bitter about the way she coldly ended it was that righteous bitch, karma.

Shaw didn’t end up with everything she wanted, because she lost the guy she truly loved. Apparently he wasn’t the type to swallow the idea of his woman marrying another man. I couldn’t blame the guy, and Shaw has since retreated into her hardnosed businesswoman persona, and the fun, playful side I caught glimpses of never emerged again, as far as I know.

Shortly after the divorce, I discovered that the problem with giving a woman a chain of resorts as a divorce settlement was the growing number of women eager to be the next ex-Mrs. Justin Karas. The line of them grew long and creative, and I didn’t trust a single one.

Marrying Selena was a great way to put a stop to the women desperate for my attention. I’m not proud that entered into my motivations, but I wasn’t going to apologize for anything that got me to this point with this woman.

“Boss?” Marcus prompts, dragging me back to the here and now. “Shit creek?”

“Honestly, I’m not entirely sure. I’m still figuring her out.”

A mix of a grunt and a chuckle comes from the other man in the car, Orrin Steel, a former SEAL who lost mobility in his left thumb and had to leave his team because of it. He opted to bow out of the Navy completely because he refused to ride a desk.

“You’ll be trying to figure her out for the rest of your goddamn life. Women are a mystery best left unsolved,” he adds.

Marcus erupts into laughter, and I’m still trying to decide if Selena’s going to be pissed. The unfamiliar feeling of anxiety creeps in when I recall how she left only a two-word note before she walked out of my New York penthouse.

“You’d better drive faster,” I say.

Selena climbs on the bus less than an hour after I return, but the initial feeling of relief I have at seeing her is wiped away when I take in the stooped set of her shoulders and pale face.

Flipping my laptop shut, I rise. “What’s wrong?”

She skirts around me and sinks into a chair.

“Just a long day,” she says, her tone defeated.

“Selena.” I only say her name, but it carries a wealth of meaning. I know she’s full of shit, and she knows I know she’s full of shit.

“How do you feel about having a meet-the-parents day?”

Her question catches me off guard, especially because her shot at meeting my parents died the day my mother and father were killed in an attack on the African village where they moved us for their missionary work. It was a story I worked incredibly hard to keep out of the media to this day.

“Excuse me?” I ask.

Her eyes flick up at me from beneath dark lashes, and she says, “My mother may be coming to visit.”

From what she’s said about her mother, this new development shocks the shit out of me.

“Really?”

“Yeah, but only because I couldn’t think fast enough to figure a way out of it.”

“Well, that’s honest.”

“It was the call from jail that threw me off my game.”

“Excuse me?” I repeat.

“If you weren’t sure before that you married white trash, you can rest assured that now you won’t have any doubt. My mama was arrested for breaking and entering into my gran’s house back home. Apparently the sheriff didn’t have my number, so when I called the police station, they filled me in.”

Selena’s voice is weary, and she won’t meet my eyes. “They wouldn’t have even arrested her, but my mama broke up the sheriff’s marriage before she left town by crowing about sleeping with him one night when she was drunk. His wife caught wind of it, and didn’t believe him when he swore he hadn’t. She left him, and he’s never forgiven my mama. He also knew, like everyone in town, that Gran left me everything, including the house. So she had no right to be there at all.”

“And that equates to her coming to visit, how?”

“I had to wire them money to bail her out of jail, and she has nowhere to go—that’s why she was breaking into Gran’s. When she asked to come here, I couldn’t find the word no fast enough in my brain. Don’t worry; she’ll last a day or two, hook up with some roadie—”

Selena sucks in a deep breath and continues in a shakier tone. “And then I won’t see her again until she runs out of the cash she’ll steal from me and anyone else who isn’t guarding their wallet. That’s what happened when she tracked me down at the very beginning of the tour.” Her voice breaks on the last word.

I cross the small living area of the bus, wrap her in my arms, and lift her into my lap as a few tears slip over her lids. I’m so shocked by the change from spitfire to hurt little girl that I have no idea how else to comfort her.

She leans against my shoulder for a beat before pulling back and climbing off my lap. She swipes at her eyes, smearing her mascara, and begins to pace.

“Damn it. I won’t cry over her. I’ve cried over her too many times. She doesn’t deserve any more of my tears. None.”

“I agree. No one deserves your tears.” Not even me, I add silently.

“And then there’s you,” she says.

“Me?” I ask.

Let’s pause for one second and acknowledge the fact that this is a stupid fucking question for a guy to ask a woman at this particular juncture, but it’s out of my mouth before I can call it back.

“Seriously? You stood me up. Again. And my mama, the gold digger, is coming to visit, and I’ll have her yapping in my ear about how I’ll never hold on to you unless I do something magical, like bleach my asshole or vajazzle my cooch, and even then, I’m probably not woman enough to keep a man like you.”

Fuck. Selena’s mother really did a number on her, and that woman will not find herself welcome here to continue the job. There’s no way in hell I’ll let her near Selena. I don’t give a fuck who she is.

“I didn’t expect it to take so long.”

She crosses her arms, and I’ve done enough negotiating to know that her body language says she’s closed off to any kind of reasonable interaction.

“What were you doing anyway?” she demands. When I open my mouth to respond, she holds up a hand, and I pause. “Never mind, you don’t need to tell me. It’s not like this is that kind of marriage anyway.”

The acid in her tone puts my back up. I know she’s pissed and emotional, but her taking swipes at what we’re starting to build here pisses me off.

“And exactly what kind of marriage is this, Selena?” The question is a loaded one.

“We both know it’s not going to last. I’m a passing fancy for you. And in case you’re wondering, I’m not bleaching my asshole to keep you on the hook.”

Her offbeat and slightly twisted sense of humor does the impossible; my pissed-off mood evaporates. I rise from the chair and move toward her, my predatory instincts taking over.

Pinning her to the fridge, I growl, “Not even if I ask nicely and promise to fuck that tight little asshole until you’ve come so many times your pleasure receptors are blown?”

She lifts her gaze to mine and mumbles, “I knew I shouldn’t have said that.”

I smooth the hair away from her face and lower my lips to her ear. “Don’t ever be afraid to say anything to me.”

When Selena doesn’t reply, I pull away and stare down at her. “Selena. Look at me.” I wait until she complies. “If you really believe what you said about this not lasting, then we have a serious problem.”

Her teeth scrape her bottom lip, and she hesitates before asking, “Why?”

I infuse my words with steel, because I want there to be no confusion about the gravity of what I’m saying. “Because there’s no way in hell I’m letting you go.”

Her big brown eyes blink twice, and her mouth falls open. The spitfire who faded away for brief moments flares to life again.

“Who the hell are you, and what have you done with my I’ll be waiting in a hotel suite with a prenup and an engagement ring husband?”

I cup her face with both hands, needing the contact. “Things change, Selena. And everything has changed for me because of you. If you haven’t figured that out yet, then I’ll just have to show you.”

“I don’t get you,” she whispers.

I lower my forehead to hers and breathe her in. “That’s where you’re wrong. You’ve already got me.”

She turns her head, breaking our contact. I drop my hands to my sides, and a shred of doubt filters into me, bringing a completely foreign feeling with it—uncertainty.

I consider crushing my lips to hers until her thoughts are filled with nothing and no one but me, but I also understand the value of backing off and letting her settle so I can return to claim victory another day. With the news of her mom’s arrest and upcoming arrival, not to mention the unrelenting tour schedule, I suspect Selena is teetering on the edge of her breaking point right now, and the last thing I want to do is push her over.

This isn’t about me. This is about her.

Deciding to change gears, I step away and nod toward the bus door.

“Want to meet your new security detail?” I ask.

“Security detail?”

“That’s where I was. Doing personal interviews and reviewing background checks. I needed to make sure that I felt comfortable with them before I could bring them around you. If you have any issues with either of the guys, let me know, and we can replace them. But having said that, I think they’re both solid choices.” I meet her eyes. “I’m willing to trust them with your safety, and believe me when I say that isn’t something I do lightly. At all.”

Her posture relaxes for a fraction of a second, but tenses once more when she asks, “You think they can keep Mama away from me too?”

“Don’t worry about her. I’ll handle that myself.”

The energy from tonight’s show is exactly what I need to shore up my inner reserves. The crowd was amazing, singing along and screaming. Maybe it’s a sign that I’m a vain person, but there’s really nothing like thousands of people chanting your name.

You’d think a girl from Gold Haven, Kentucky, who started off singing karaoke with the smell of fryer grease clinging to her hair and clothes wouldn’t feel perfectly comfortable on a stage in front of ten thousand people, but I do. It’s where I belong. Every time I get up there, it’s with the absolute certainty that this is what I was born to do.

But just thinking about the past reminds me that Mama is coming to visit, and regardless of what Justin says about taking care of her, she’s going to find a way to dig her hooks into me. I just don’t have thick enough armor when it comes to her. I want to call her back and tell her “hell no, I changed my mind,” but I don’t have any way to get in touch with her.

As I’m falling asleep on the bus, curled into Justin’s arms¸ the haze of orgasm steals my filter, and I tell him, “I wish I could turn back the clock and tell my mama to go somewhere else, anywhere else. I don’t want her here. I don’t want her messing with my life again. It never ends well.”

Justin squeezes me against his chest and presses a kiss to my hair. “Go to sleep. You’ve got another long day tomorrow in Biloxi.”

The vibrations from the road and Justin’s steady, even breathing lull me into a dreamless sleep.

The next afternoon, I pull out my phone and check the time for the twentieth time in the last five minutes. Not because I’m worried I’m going to miss the Biloxi meet and greet, but because I keep expecting Mama to come barreling backstage and wreaking havoc like a raccoon sneaking into a house through a chimney.

Justin shoots me a questioning look. “What are you doing? You’re not going to be late, so calm the hell down.”

I suck in a breath and release it slowly, trying to calm my nerves. “It’s not that. It’s Mama. I was hoping I’d get that out of the way early so I could get myself together for the show. I hate this feeling of being on edge.”

Justin’s expression goes blank. “Shit. I forgot to tell you. She’s taken care of.”

I swear, everything in me slams to a halt—my lungs, my heart, the very blood in my veins. “What? What are you talking about?”

“I arranged for her to take a vacation. All expenses paid to Miami. I own a large portion of a resort there, and I figured it would give you the break you need. It was easy enough to get her to agree.”

At his nonchalant announcement, I come unglued. “And you didn’t bother to mention it?” The question comes out as a screech.

He scrubs a hand through his hair, not meeting my eyes. “Fuck, Selena. We’ve been going nonstop today. It slipped my mind.”

“Damn it, Crey. I’ve been dreading this shit all day. You could’ve told me and put me out of my misery.”

I pace the room backstage as I rant. I know I’m overreacting, but Justin doesn’t understand my mama or the stress that comes along with just thinking about her. He watches me pace, letting me vent, which is probably a smart move on his part. Come near the clawing she-beast and you may lose an important appendage, and wouldn’t that be a shame?

After about twenty trips back and forth across the fifteen-foot-wide room, I’ve calmed down a smidge. I chance a look at where Justin is leaning against the wall, arms folded over his chest, wondering if he’s holding in a laugh for all he’s worth. As I stare for a minute, I realize he isn’t. But I also can’t read what he’s thinking.

“What?” I snap. Okay, so the she-beast isn’t totally pacified yet. I just need to channel the energy into my performance tonight. That I can do.

“You called me Crey,” he says.

I shake my head. “Is there something wrong with that?”

He nods slowly. “That’s what people close to me call me, but you never have before.”

I bite my lip and consider. “So?”

“Nothing. I was surprised, is all.” He waves a hand. “Feel free to continue the tirade.”

From anyone else it might sound patronizing, but Crey just seems to be letting me get it all out. Which is exactly what I need right now. And that realization right there is all it takes to calm me down.

“I’m all tiraded out,” I say, stopping in front of him.

“Then maybe this is a good time to ask you if you’re up for a flight back to New York after the show next Thursday. I know we haven’t really talked about how things are going to work after the tour is over, but I’ve got some things I need to take care of at home in person that I’ve been putting off, and I’d like to have you with me.”

I’ve been dreading the what’s next for us discussion, so my question is tentative. “You get that I don’t want to stay in New York permanently?”

Justin’s expression turns serious. “We’ll figure it out, Selena.”

“Okay. I’ll go.”

His smile is wide and genuine. “I’m glad I’m not going to have to kidnap you then. I really didn’t want to go to the gala alone.”

“Gala?”

“A charity thing. At MoMA.”

When I open my mouth to say that I’m not sure what MoMA is, he says, “Come here.”

I cross the room and stand before him, just out of reach. “We don’t have time for anything dirty right about now.”