#i just wanted to vent about the things she continues to pull on a daily basis and we are in agreement that she needs to be stopped

[binch-i-might-be]

my favourite coworker started when I left and I relayed the entire saga of Woman Who Has Been Doing The Same Job For 40 Years And Yet Doesn't Know Anything About It Screams At Sick Child For Almost Passing Out and he promised me he'd tear her a new one later. love wins ❤️

[xcherricutie]

➤ Messy

Vegeta x F!Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count - 1.5k

Summary - Vegeta is a clean freak with anger issues and pent up emotions, and decides to take it out on you for fun.

Notes: This is my first time posting here. I am from Wattpad, so I don't know tumblr etiquette, apologies.

“Your habits are disgusting and you’re a mess.”

He would follow you around and criticize you for what felt like hours on end. It was enough to drive anyone mad, and he did it to you on purpose. He was a man on a mission, out to make your life as miserable as possible. That’s just how it was, being acquainted with the prince of all saiyans. It didn’t matter if you tried to avoid him, he would find you, and he would let you know of every flaw in your life. Almost as if he took a sick satisfaction in seeing you wallow in your own misery and insecurities. 

“Vegeta, her house is none of your business,” Bulma scolded with a harsh glare, slapping your discarded napkin out of his hand. You hadn’t had the time to clean up your living space before Bulma and Vegeta dropped by, unannounced. You didn’t mind surprise visitors, but Vegeta was an exception. Every single time he came by, which had become noticeably more frequent, you made absolutely sure that he could not find a single reason to complain or nitpick. You were simply thankful Bulma was there to keep her dog on his leash. 

“Sorry for the mess,” you forced through grit teeth with a smile, before your face relaxed as your eyes landed on Bulma. “What brings you here? You’re not one for random visits.” 

“Right, sorry,” Bulma chuckled, brushing some strands of her azure hair behind her ear, glancing over at Vegeta as he tip-toed through the specks of dirt in your carpet. Bulma rolled her eyes at the dramatic saiyan, sighing. “I need you to keep an eye on him. I don’t really trust him to be alone at Capsule Corp., and my mom and dad are out on vacation. I’ve got a big workload on my hands and can’t deal with him right now. I’ll pay you good, I promise.” 

You wanted to say no. You wanted to tell both of them to get out of your house and never come back. Babysitting Vegeta could have perhaps been Bulma’s most unreasonable request for you. He had not been on Earth for long, and yet had antagonized you more than anyone. You rarely even showed your face at Capsule Corp. anymore because of the man. And Bulma was your best friend that you visited nearly daily for years. She knew how much you hated Vegeta. 

And yet, when she pulled the wad of cash out of her pocket, you immediately found yourself agreeing to the impossible task. Bulma’s payments were usually unreasonable amounts, as if the stack of paper zenni she handed to you was less than allowance money for her. It felt wrong to take, but what could you say? You were living independently in the city - you needed any cash you could get. Even if it meant spending a day with the most annoying being in the universe. 

As soon as Bulma had left, it was not long before Vegeta started to act up. He almost acted like a prepubescent boy at times, unable to properly convey his feelings, resorting to anger to vent. You had even made a point to clean up around the house so he wouldn’t feel so uncomfortable, but some of the things he complained about were unreasonable. 

“The geometry of your living space is poorly designed, woman,” Vegeta commented as he stood in the midst of your living room, looking around at the furniture. You rolled your eyes as you vacuumed the carpet, tuning his voice out. 

“Nobody is stopping you from just leaving. You hate all of us, I don’t understand why you continue to torture yourself on this planet,” you muttered, unsure if he heard you over the vacuum. You didn’t care much if he did or not, barely having the energy to speak to or at him. 

“I’m waiting for Kakarot to come back to this miserable planet. But I’m starting to doubt he will,” Vegeta said as he placed his hands on his hips, searching for more things in your house to nitpick about. You had done a pretty good job hiding things for him to complain about. 

“Maybe he’s avoiding you,” you said with a smirk at the idea. You would not blame Goku one bit if he was avoiding the entire Earth because of Vegeta’s presence. Vegeta did not find your comment very funny as his head whipped to your direction, glaring harshly. 

“Then I would track him down and drag him to this miserable planet to humiliate him in front of his loved ones,” Vegeta sneered, lip raised in a slight snarl, as if the mere assumption were the most offensive thing he’d ever heard. 

“Is it really that hard to accept that somebody doesn’t like you and doesn’t want to see you? I really don’t understand you, Vegeta,” you stood up straight as you turned off the vacuum, turning to glare at him. “You antagonize people on purpose, and then get mad when everyone leaves. What do you want from us? Why won’t you just leave?” 

“My business is none of your concern, woman. I suggest you close your mouth and not utter a single sound from now on, unless you really want to see what antagonistic looks like. I could put you through a world of misery with words alone, I haven’t done anything to you yet.” Vegeta’s harsh eyes stared into your soul, as if knowing you weren’t going to listen. He had been here less than a year, and yet knew you would not stand for such nonsense. 

“This is my house! I suggest you shut up if you know what’s good for you, asshole!” You yelled, leaning closer to his face. His warm breath hit your face as he scoffed, looking down at you as if he were so high and mighty. He was barely three inches taller than you.

“I could destroy you, and this house, and this whole planet in a matter of seconds if I wished. Your empty threats mean nothing to me, human.” Vegeta smirked down at you. That was your breaking point as your hand moved on its own. Even Vegeta found himself shocked by your sudden movement as your hand left its mark across his cheek, its shape searing into his cheek. Head turned from the sudden force, Vegeta stared at you with wide eyes, as if to let his brain process the attack on him. You expected him to blow up. You needed to gain control, fast. You would rather your house remained intact by the time Bulma returned. 

“Wh-What’s with the surprised look? Didn’t think a girl could hit you? Bet you’re completely smitten, huh?” Your face lit up like a lightbulb, cheeks burning as you smirked, watching his every muscle movement. You didn’t even mean for the words to escape your lips, but as they did, you knew you were dead. “You want to kiss me so bad, huh, Vegeta?” 

You saw the blush bloom across his cheek, making your hand mark burn ever brighter. That was the first time you had ever seen an emotion other than anger or pride on his face. But the view did not last long, as you suddenly found your vision obscured, his large frame right in your face, his lips connected to yours. This was an unexpected development, to say the least. 

His touch sent lightning through your nerves as his hands uncharacteristically gently slid up your arms, gloved fingers brushing over your cheeks. His kiss was soft, as if to show you everything he had been unable to get across before, many emotions flowing through one small touch. That one small touch, however, began to grow more desperate as Vegeta grabbed your shoulders, firmly pressing his lips to yours. Your scent was intoxicating, and every little jolt of electricity to his nerves sent him spiraling through his pent-up emotions even more. 

It wasn’t until your palms were pressed to his chest, trying to push him off, that he broke from his much-needed kiss. You stared up at Vegeta in surprise, watching many emotions flow through his dark pupils, before he finally came to his senses. You were pushed away, although much softer than you would have expected, his warmth pulling away from you as he left you standing there. He plopped down onto the sofa, sinking into the cushions as he crossed his arms, avoiding meeting your gaze. Your eyes stayed glued to him for a moment longer, before you let out a silent scoff, smiling in amusement. 

Vegeta had not uttered so much as a word after that. No more comments on her habits or appearance, no more jabs at her life and home. He had sat silently at her side, stealing glances at her every once in a while as she read her book in peace. And perhaps it was the cleaner environment, or just something in him beginning to bloom, but you looked much better than when he had shown up. 

And you weren’t sure if it was just the sunlight hitting him at just the right spot, or if he just looked like this when he wasn’t constantly raging, but Vegeta had a different look about him, almost a glow. Perhaps he wasn’t as bad as you had originally thought.

[xexiar]

Keep Watching. Ch10

Ch9 Ao3 FFnet (I'm ahead of schedule, so two chapters in relatively one day)

-----

Chapter 10

I was still in disbelief that Deku had yelled at his mom. He never done that before. I wonder what could have came over him. "So. Talk nerd." It took a while to get him to stop crying long enough to talk. So now we're just sitting in the ally.

"I don't know what came over me. She kept pushing and pushing. Saying things about how she's my mom. And stuff about how I shouldn't hide things from her. But it's not my fault I don't trust her with anything. After all, you know what's going on." I nodded in agreement as I continued looking forward. I might be the only person who knows about the nerd's home life. "All I could remember was being backed into a corner. It was so hard to not get angry, but I couldn't hold it in anymore. How do you do it?"

"How do I do what?" That's when I looked at Deku and saw he was crying again.

"How are you able to be angry without holding back? It hurts so much. I'm so tried." I then pushed his shoulders, which got him to look at me. "What was that for?"

"Where's the nerd that stood back up after constantly being forced down? Where's the idiot who jumps into fights that isn't his?"

"Kacchan." I watched as Deku stood up. "You're right." I stood up as well and patted the dirty off. "I'm going to tell mom I did the entrance exam."

"Don't do anything crazy when she blows up."

That's when Deku let out a chuckle. At that, I had to hold back my own smile. I hated seeing him cry but I still have a lot to make up for. Since the day on the roof all I could think about was how would I make it up to Deku. Hopefully this is one step in that direction. That's when I remembered he ran through busy traffic! So I punched his face. "Hey! What was that for?"

"For being a damn idiot! Stop putting yourself in danger! I don't want to be the one who tells your hag how her son died."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

I punched him again, which knocked him down. "Stop running into trouble! Next time I catch you doing some stupid shit I'm breaking your legs!"

Deku smiled and it sent a chill down my spine. Why was he smiling? "It's only stupid if I fail."

…

I still can't believe Kacchan caught me. Let alone heard me out as I vented about what happened with me. We haven't done anything like that since we were in elementary school. At that, something seemed off about him today. Especially with how I noticed how he seemed to be staring off into the distance. But I was grateful that I even spoke to someone. It was nice to have that moment as if we were friends again.

As I stood in front of my apartment door, I wasn't sure about anything. Will mom still be home? How will I handle talking to her? Does she forgive me for screaming at her? How could she forgive me? I been an awful son for making her worry and then lie to her.

Before I walked away is when the door opened. "Izuku?"

The tears that ran down her face made the guilt weigh heavier. Taking in a deep breath I faced her. "I'm sorry, mom." She pulled me into a tight hug, and we stood there crying. Before long we were in the kitchen. While we sat at the table, mom handed me, what seemed to be a fresh bowl, of katsudon. "Thanks mom."

We stood in silence for a while, as I ate. But something just felt so wrong about this. Before I could speak, mom spoke first. "I shouldn't have gotten angry with you. I was just worried, since you never came home so bandaged up before."

"Yes, I have." That's when mom looked at me. "I always came home with one or another form of bandages. I would get beaten on a daily during and after school. You just were at work when I came home. It took me a while but I learned to cleaned up my wounds that you wouldn't notice. I didn't want to worry you more than you already was." The look of shock on mom's face somehow made me angry.

I don't get why I'm getting angry. Shouldn't I be feeling relieved that I'm finally telling her? And what followed the anger was a deep sense of guilt. I then watched as mom started to cry. Damn it. Now I really done it. Why can't I do anything right? Just before I could get up, mom grabbed my hand. "Please, Izuku. I'm here now. So, please. Let me make it up to you."

Even though I sat back down, I didn't believe her. What was the point? I felt the anger building again, just before everything went numb. Why be more of a burden than I already was? I took one more look at my half-eaten bowl before smiling and looking at mom. "I did the entrance exam for UA. Now, I'm just waiting for the results."

Even though I was staring at mom, the whole room seemed like a blur to me. I couldn't even tell the sounds apart. But I some how was able to hear when mom spoke. "But a person need a quirk to take part. How did you even get in? That's impossible! I don't believe you." I pointed to my bandaged arm. "Oh my goodness! That's where you got injured? I'm calling that school right now! How dare they let my baby get hurt!"

"Stop, mom. I entered. I'm the one who knew what I was getting into. There's no going back." Even though I still couldn't tell what was happening around me, I just knew mom was crying. At that, I couldn't even tell if I was crying. All I was able to feel was that smile I have mastered putting on whenever I felt numb. After all, nobody needs to be burden with knowing the pain I feel.

I was still in disbelief mom took the next two weeks off from work. Saying stuff about wanting to be here for me. With her around I didn't have a chance to breathe or think. It felt suffocating. Maybe I'm just so used to being on my own that this level of attention feels so wrong.

It felt like the days blurred into each other. It didn't help that I barely left my room, unless to eat. The only thing that went through my head was wondering if I got into UA. What if I didn't? What would I do then? Will I have to return All Might's quirk? Or is there another way to become a hero? Maybe… Not legally.

That's when I heard a knock at my door. Before I opened it, I put on a smile and made sure to hide the knife I was holding. When I opened my door, I was surprised to see mom trying to give me something. I hesitantly too the item from her. I still wasn't able to tell what it was. Too numb to register my very existence. "It's from UA." Hearing those words brought some clarity.

I closed my door and went over to my desk. After a few deep breaths and blinking, I finally took note of what was in my hand. A small envelope that felt somewhat heavy. When I opened it a small projector fell out. There was also a letter, but I'll read that later. As I watched the holographic message, I was still in disbelief it was All Might.

So… I made it in? I actually got into the high school of my dreams? As the disbelief slowly faded, I started to grin. Oh, how perfect this was. I even enjoyed seeing that my action of saving someone is actually helped me out. See Kacchan. I can still be a hero and keep my promise. "Soon, Kac chan." WAIT! Where did that come from? I blinked frantically as I stare at myself on the computer monitor.

After I caught my breath and read the letter, I finally left my room. I found mom in the kitchen and told her the news. At first, she looked away as she fidgeted with her hands. When she did look at me, I could tell she was forcing a smile. "I'm so proud of you, baby. You finally can follow your dream." She doesn't believe in me.

I tried to keep my smile as I hugged her. "Thanks mom. I'm so happy." When she did hug back it felt cold. There was no warmth between us. And I had to fight back the tears that wanted to shed. It doesn't matter if she supports me or not. There's one person who believes in me and that's all I need. The fact someone finally believed in my dream was all I ever needed. Now is my chance to prove them all wrong. Especially Kacchan.

[l1teraryangel]

In Another Life (Ch. 10)

Chapter Warnings: VERY Mild Sexual Content

--- --- --- --- ---

Holding himself, Ryou sighed. “I know everything I’ve said seems crazy. That’s why I was hoping to wait it out, to avoid trying to explain everything.” He rubbed his arms, though the motion provided little comfort. “This is actually the second realm I’ve been in. The last one was… We’ll say rough. That’s a good summary term.”

“Have… you been here all day?”

Ryou glanced at Touzoku-Ou, whose expression suddenly seemed quite shy. “I woke up on the couch. I guess after your Ryou went to lay down from the headache?”

Bakura’s face flushed. “You… In the bed, then…”

“That’s why I tried to stop you. Why I, uh, ran away to the bathroom.” Ryou knew his face matched Bakura’s, right down to the same red cheeks. “F-For what it’s worth, like I said, this is his body. I just… It wasn’t right.” His voice trailed off, sadness clouding his eyes. “No matter how much I miss my Bakura and Touzoku-Ou… I knew it wasn’t right to let things go any further. I shouldn’t have let them go so far in the first place.”

Without warning, Diabound shoved her snout into his stomach. “Want masssster back.”

A half-hearted laugh slipped from Ryou’s lips. “I got that. Trust me, I want your master to come back, too. I want to go home.” The words shattered the dam he built up, the tears haunting him from earlier overflowing in an instant. “Fuck… I’m sorry… I just… I really do want to go home. It feels like a lifetime since I was in my own body.”

Uncertain, Touzoku-Ou petted Ryou’s head, and Bakura sighed, moving in to offer a hug. Ryou hungrily accepted the offer, burying his face into Bakura’s chest despite the other gasping and hesitating to fully embrace him. Touzoku-Ou wrapped his arms around both of them, resting his forehead on Ryou.

As the three of them stood there, awkward but desperate, Diabound gazed back towards the circus. A true laugh, unhindered by his melancholy, escaped Ryou when he heard her hiss, “Hungry sssstill.”

With a roll of his eyes, Touzoku-Ou hauled the snake onto his shoulders, grunting from the effort. “Come on, you pain in the ass, I’ll feed you. God, you could stand to skip a meal, though.”

“Issss musssscle, Masssster. Be sssstronger.”

“Uh-huh. Sure. Somehow you’ve gained weight since Ryou started feeding you. I think he’s been overgenerous with your portions.”

“Leave besssst Masssster out of thissss.”

“Oh ho! You admit it, finally! You do like Ryou more than me!”

Bakura snorted and, with his arm wrapped around Ryou’s shoulders, pulled him along behind Touzoku-Ou, who continued to argue with his snake. “Ignore them. We listen to this shit on a daily basis.”

“What, uh… What is she? For that matter, what is this world? I thought it was a normal circus this morning, but obviously, I was wrong.”

“Not sure about Diabound. Touzoku-Ou hatched her when he was a kid, said he found her egg alone in the forest. One day she started talking to him. As for everything else…” Bakura wobbled his head left to right, thoughtfully choosing his words. “Magic exists. Everyone is human, far as I know, but some of us have… talents. Touzoku-Ou, for example, can commune with spirits. Ties it into his act.”

Ryou’s smile spread from ear to ear. “That’s so cool. I can do magic in my realm, too. I’m… kinda relieved that this isn’t a magic-less world. Would have made things a lot trickier. But, then again, I wouldn’t have been ratted out by a snake if there wasn’t magic.”

Bakura hummed, amusement glinting in his eyes. “True. Diabound never keeps secrets from the three of us, so unfortunate that you chose to divulge the info to her.”

“I’m glad, to be honest. I feel better, being able to vent, being open. I think I was bordering on a mental breakdown this morning. Having you two around, listening to me, comforting me, making me laugh… It was familiar, and it worked wonders.”

“Guess I should apologize for the way we jumped you.”

“No need. You didn’t know who or what I was. Believe it or not, that was also familiar.” Ryou giggled. “I’m just not used to being on the other end of that aggression.”

The two continued their chat with Touzoku-Ou occasionally jumping in between his exchanges with Diabound. They filled Ryou in on the circus, everyone’s roles and relationships, the things they knew about the fantastical and unusual ongoings in the world. In return, Ryou told them bits and pieces about his relationship with their counterparts, the history of the Millennium Items, and the adventure he unwillingly found himself locked into.

By the time the three of them were satisfied with their information swap, the moon replaced the sun, sitting high and proud in the sky like a Cheshire grin. They barely reached the RV they all shared when Touzoku-Ou swung around, terror written across his face.

“Baku, we forgot about Mai!”

“...Shit.”

 

***

 

Separated by Yugi’s magic circle, Bakura and Touzoku-Ou sat across from their doppelgangers, mirrored save for the blood stains and bruises Isis had yet to heal. Distaste for the situation exceeding his limits, Bakura clucked his tongue.

“This is fucking boring. Does the pharaoh really need this much sleep?”

Touzoku-Ou shrugged, a sly smirk on his face. “I’ll go wake him up, if you promise to keep Yugi off my ass.”

“It’s… like half an hour until two? Those guys are probably up already, hiding away to cuddle.” Bakura feigned a gag. “Nasty bastards.”

“This is Malik’s fault for ditching his shift. We could have been cuddling, too,” Touzoku-Ou joked, laughing when Bakura pulled a face. “What, you don’t wanna cuddle me, Habibi? I see how it is, only Ryou gets your cuddles.”

Stamping his heels into the floor, Bakura rose, glaring at his lover. “I’m going to grab Kaiba’s dog and make him buy us lunch. Preference, jackass?”

“Food. Anything sounds real good. Better make it a quadruple portion, though. We should probably feed our other selves here, lest they wither away.”

“That would be a travesty.”

Bakura sauntered off, stopping only for a moment to check over Ryou and brush a kiss on his forehead. He shut the door behind him, leaving Touzoku-Ou in silence with the other-realmers. The thief king rolled his shoulders, flexed his legs, and let out a loud yawn.

“For two psycho killers, you’re awful boring, y’know?”

They studied him, unmoved by the insult. His mirrored self remarked coolly, “And what about you? Apparently some Ancient Egyptian thief, yet here you are reduced to a mundane existence where the only benefits are your partner and your comatose pet over there.”

“Both of whom are fantastic,” Touzoku-Ou returned and flopped onto his side, propped on his left elbow. “Maybe you’d understand if you treated your Ryou better.”

Other Bakura sneered. “We treat him plenty well if and when he behaves.”

“Somehow I think your idea of well differs from his.” He examined his right hand, fondly rolling an intricate gold band with two jewels, one obsidian and one white moonstone. “I pity you, trapped in such a dark state of being. It reminds me how I used to be. How I’m sure Bakura was.”

“The nerve of this guy,” Other Touzoku-Ou snapped, fingers twitching and teeth gritted. “How dare you sit there saying you pity us when you’re a slave to someone as weak as Ryou, when you live content with this average man’s life. If I had powers like yours, I’d make myself a god.”

Touzoku-Ou chuckled and dropped his hand back down. “Yup, you’re just like how I used to be. Consumed by greed, hungry for power, driven by hatred.” His eyes hardened. “The biggest difference is that unlike you, I would never hurt Ryou. He’s part of my family. I knew from the second I saw him we were meant to be together.”

Rolling his eyes, Bakura rested back on his hands, a casual posture to accompany his growing disdain. “We knew we were meant to be with Ryou, too, you arrogant bastard. The problem is he didn’t appreciate our feelings for him.”

“Given what I’ve heard of how he met you,” Touzoku-Ou snorted and twisted onto his back, arms folded beneath his head, “I can’t say I blame him for hating you. Why kill his family if you wanted him to love you?”

“Why?” Bakura echoed, expression morphing into a frightening grin. “They were useless baggage. He’s better off alone.”

“And want him to love us?” Touzoku-Ou restated and mimicked the expression of his partner. “We don’t give a damn if he loves us or not. He’s still ours. And we’re all he has.”

Touzoku-Ou sat up and snapped his fingers into an 'L'-shape. “So what you’re saying is… It’s a control thing. Get rid of anyone else so he’s dependent on you no matter what.”

“You understand,” Other Touzoku-Ou chortled and leaned forward. “Took you long enough.”

Smiling, cool as a cucumber, Touzoku-Ou replied, “Yeah, I get it. I was wrong about our biggest difference. It’s not our willingness or lack thereof to do harm to Ryou… It’s the fact that I actually love him, whereas you two only want to own him.” 

They guffawed over his words, but he continued, “Do you at least love each other? Are you even capable of that much?”

Returning to a more upright position, Bakura glared daggers into Touzoku-Ou’s head. “We’re fuckbuddies, we’re partners, we’re a team. I watch his back, he watches mine, and we enjoy a good romp in the sheets when we’re bored of death games. We don’t need to put a label, especially one like ‘love,’ on it.”

“So you wouldn’t die for each other?”

“I would never ask such a stupid thing,” Other Touzoku-Ou scornfully shot back. “Nor would Bakura ask me to do something so ridiculous.”

“Humor me. If it came down to it and both of you couldn’t escape a deadly situation, you would prefer to let each other die over dying yourself?”

Total silence descended amongst the men. Touzoku-Ou wondered if the scathing glares they wore were from his insistent question or their inability to reach an answer, although he truly only asked for fun. It didn’t matter since both of them would die in the end. By whose hand was yet to be determined, of course, but he hoped it was his and Bakura’s. 

Seeing the way these two treated their Ryou filled him with anger and not just on the kid’s behalf. What sort of damage had they done to his Rohi? There was no way their time with him was peaceful, and he would enjoy torturing the doppelgangers’ bodies and souls for every second of torment Ryou suffered.

“Yo, Thief King.” Bakura flicked his ear from behind. “Earth to King of Thieves. I’ve got food.”

Mouth watering at the aroma of roasted garlic and succulent steak, Touzoku-Ou snatched the food from his boyfriend. He sank his teeth into the whole garlic, salivating further over the tenderized flesh and potent taste.

“This is where you say ‘thank you, Bakura, for rewarding my bad behavior with my favorite foods,’” Bakura snarked and unpacked his own steak. “I thought about fried chicken, but I think we should save that for when Ryou wakes up.”

“Fried chicken and beer?” Touzoku-Ou grumbled around the chomps of food. “We’ll need to get him some of those tiny cakes, too.”

Bakura tore a mouthful of steak off his fork. “And creampuffs for breakfast, or he might disown us.” He gave Touzoku-Ou a dirty look when the other man leaned in and licked a dribble of steak juices from his chin. “Keep your tongue to yourself when we’re eating.”

Snickering, the thief king reached into the bag and revealed the remaining two containers of food. While not exactly thrilled to do any favors for his and his lover’s lookalikes, Touzoku-Ou resigned himself to feeding them and slid the meals into the protective circle, wincing when the magic grazed his finger tips.

“Eat up, or I’ll take that food back.”

They grabbed the food and dug right in, clearly as ravenous as their alternate selves. Naturally, they offered no thanks, but the local pair could at least enjoy the satisfaction of having control over them.

Bakura wiped more dribbles off his lips and sucked the juice off his thumb. “I told the dog just to give them scraps, but he said it would be simpler to buy them some food. I wouldn’t waste the money, but I guess Kaiba’s got enough to blow on a couple of thugs.”

Nonchalant and more interested in his own food, Touzoku-Ou shrugged. “Let him flaunt his wealth. Better not to argue with the man letting us stay here for free. We can bruise his ego later.” His eyes wandered passed Bakura to the corner of the room where Ryou laid. “How’d he look earlier, by the way?”

Setting his half-eaten steak down, Bakura followed the thief’s eyes to his former host. “Fortunately, there doesn’t seem to be another soul in his body, so we don’t have to worry about possibly having triple Ryous around. Unfortunately…”

“It’s gonna be hard to track him down without some connection to his current realm.”

“Probably. I stopped by the stupid pharaoh’s room on my way back. Told him the plan and to get his ass in here sooner rather than later. We’ll see if he listens.”

The pair shared a snort, and Touzoku-Ou said, “He’d better, or I’m taking Yugi hostage.”

“If you’re taking me hostage, just know I am very high maintenance. I require the highest quality of care, or I’ll make your life hell.”

As if on cue, Yugi ambled into the room, a less enthusiastic Atem behind him. The latter carried a box of candles while the former tossed a piece of chalk between his hands.

Touzoku-Ou rolled his eyes. “As expected of a mini version of the pharaoh.”

Yugi put his hands on his hips, smiling impishly. “You two always call me a ‘mini version,’ but Atem and I are pretty much the same height. Actually, last I checked, I’m two centimeters taller.”

“Aibou,” Atem groaned while setting the box down, “don’t waste your breath.”

Sarcasm pouring from his being, Bakura clapped and mocked, “Good job, Yugi. Do you want a cookie for that accomplishment?” He couldn’t help chuckling when said man stuck his tongue out. “You get ballsier with every centimeter, I guess.”

Atem, placing candles in a circle around him, motioned for Yugi to begin drawing a circle. As his lighter half set about the task, the pharaoh spoke to his former enemies. “You understand I can’t promise anything, correct?”

Swallowing his final bite of food, Touzoku-Ou dismissed Atem with a shrug. “Just swear by your father’s corpse that you’ll make a good argument, and I’ll be happy.”

“Really?” Atem glared at the tomb-robber. “By my father’s corpse? That’s the qualifier you choose?”

“Why not? If the situation were reversed, I’d be willing to swear by Kul Elna.” The deadpan tone of the thief noticeably shook Atem. “Swear by Yugi’s life, then, if you feel that’s more appropriate. But I want your word, and I want it sworn by something you hold dear.”

Grumbling under his breath, Atem raised his right hand. “You have my word. I, Pharaoh Atem, swear by my partner’s life to put forth my best effort at convincing the gods to assist in bringing Bakura Ryou’s soul back home.”

Bakura chuckled. “So Yugi is more important than Daddy, huh? Fair enough. Corpses are such a mood-killer.”

A snarl curled Atem’s lips, but Yugi touched his shoulder, shaking his head. “You know how they are, especially when they’re stressed. Good luck, Atem. I’ll be waiting here for you.” He snuck closer to place a kiss at his dark’s temple, and the man’s annoyance melted away.

“Hopefully they’ll be able to help. Thieves,” He nodded towards the silver-haired men, “try not to cause Yugi issues for the brief time I’m gone?”

“Oh, I’m going to cause him so much trouble,” Bakura sneered, but apprehension prevented his usual rancor from coming through. “Get out of here already. Ryou’s waiting.”

Heka flowed around the circle, spiraling in towards Atem, and an Eye of Anubis shimmered onto his forehead. His eyes, a swirl of purple and crimson, grew vacant as his soul ascended beyond the mortal plane into the realm of the gods. Stars of twinkling magic blinked their way upwards to form a guiding bridge there and back.

Touzoku-Ou released a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Guess now all we can do is wait.”

 

***

 

“You’re lucky I’m a kind-hearted individual,” Mai warned, dabbing the last of black paint over Bakura’s lips. “You assholes keep me waiting for hours, and you didn’t even have the decency to do some prep yourselves?”

“No one does it as good as you, darling.” Touzoku-Ou, decked out in a scarlet suit jacket and pants over a dark gray turtleneck, blew her a kiss. “You know we’re suckers for your goddess touch.”

She laughed, and the action cleared what little exasperation clung to her face. “You’re also lucky I’m a sucker for that suit of yours, big boy, or I’d smack you for thinking you could flirt your way out of my wrath.

“He knows the power of his suit.” Spinning away from her with his completed face-up, Bakura hopped off the high stool and took a bow at the wolf whistle Touzoku-Ou awarded him. 

The heavy dark circles, a mix of black and wine liners, contrasted with his all-white sclera lenses, which reduced his irises and pupils to faint gray circles. Black squiggles with a gleam of red draped down his mouth and chin, and all his features were hollowed out by Mai’s expert application of contour and highlight. 

Ryou wished he had his phone. The face makeup alone put his tongue in knots; the black silk top and form-fitting spandex together with the grungy needlepoint nails sent blood right between his legs. He never thought about having Bakura or Touzoku-Ou use costume makeup in the bedroom, but he definitely would implement it. The mix of horror and his lovers’ bodies under a layer of sexy clothing… The possibilities were endless.

“What do you think, Ryou?” Mai asked, a knowing grin on her lips. “Should I take it as a compliment that you look ready to burst?”

Squeaking, Ryou yanked a pillow over himself, face burning as Bakura and Touzoku-Ou eyed him, equal parts surprised and wanting. He pretended not to see Touzoku-Ou shift his legs or the bulge Bakura’s spandex offered no privacy for. 

Mai giggled and patted her unoccupied seat. “C’mon, babe, you’re next. No hiding with the pillow. They’re your boyfriends, after all, so it’s nothing they haven’t seen before, I’m sure.”

“W-Why don’t you do Touzoku-Ou’s face next?” Ryou suggested, an offer definitely made out of generosity and not to give him time to settle.

“Oh, his makeup doesn’t need approval since he’s sticking to his usual. All he needed was a quick test to make sure his suit still fit properly.” She winked and beckoned him with a finger. “Like I said, no hiding. You’re up, so let’s hear what you want to do.”

His mouth opened, but no answer popped into his head. What did his alternate self want done? Ryou knew nothing about his style preference. If it were his choice, he’d want to match Bakura in levels of creepiness, but…

Touzoku-Ou suddenly wrapped his arm across Ryou’s shoulders. When he leaned in, he placed a kiss on Ryou’s neck, which nearly dissolved the other’s restraint, and whispered, “Go ahead. We’ll do the talking.”

Clearly recognizing the problem alongside his actual boyfriend, Bakura grasped Ryou’s wrist and tugged him to his feet. Their chests collided, and he softly teased, “Just sit and look pretty. We know what Ryou was planning.”

Their erections brushed from the proximity, and Ryou whimpered a pitiful acknowledgement before dragging his feet and planting himself in Mai’s stool, again trying to ignore his other self’s boyfriends ogling and chuckling.

She beamed down at him, ruffling his hair affectionately and turning them both towards the mirror. Her hands combed through his silky white strands while experimenting with over the shoulder, tucked behind the ear, in a ponytail, and other styles.

“How about a braid, Ryou? You haven’t done that in a minute.”

“Uh…” Ryou paused, long enough to allow Bakura or Touzoku-Ou to speak up if it mattered. They remained silent, so he nodded. “Sure?”

“Don’t be so nervous, hun. It’s me and your boyfriends, not Kaiba or some creepy volunteer.” She squeezed his shoulders. “Alrighty, so what are we thinking for the overall look this time around?”

Prepared for the inquiry, Bakura jumped in. “Ryou talked about keeping the contour and highlighting mostly natural.”

“He was toying with adding some glitter around his eyes and on his lips,” Touzoku-Ou added, pointing on his own face to the suggested placement. “He wanted to try a cool-tone lip color, too. Like pastel blue or purple?”

Mai practically sparkled with excitement. “Fun! Good to see you getting out of your comfort zone a bit. Okay, picture with me, Ryou.” She described painting his lips a muted lilac and swirling the color over his cheekbones and back into his eye sockets. She dabbed her pinky gently around his high points, suggesting a blue and silver glitter combo, and motioned to a stunning set of fake white lashes on her vanity to emphasize his pre-existing ones.

He kept offering subtle nods, basically providing unlimited creative freedom, while letting his mind drift. ‘I wonder if my Mai would teach me some makeup tips. Might be fun to collaborate, too. I should suggest sitting down with her and Malik. Between the three of us, we could throw together some wicked looks.’

Her voice disappeared, replaced by her agile hands and brushes dusting over his skin, so he closed his eyes and held still, listening to her hums and occasional quips with Bakura and Touzoku-Ou. The banter soothed him, almost lulling him to sleep were it not for the uncomfortable stool holding him.

An echo, muffled to the point of being nearly indiscernible, tickled his brain while he sat there, disrupting his peace. His brow twitched as Bakura and Touzoku-Ou’s voices overlapped with… Bakura and Touzoku-Ou’s voices? The words and tones were different, but they were certainly the same voice. His ears endeavored to hear beyond the chatter beside him, and he squinted his eyes when pain bloomed in his temples.

“H-Hey, guys?” The three friends quieted themselves, their attention on him. “Sorry if this comes across as rude, but I have a headache. Could you talk a bit quieter?”

Mai’s brush hovered over his eyelid, the bristles itching his eyelashes. “Aw, hun, you should have said something. You poor thing. I lent my medicine to Jonouchi, but I can go get it if you want?”

Ryou contemplated the offer. “That would be great, honestly.”

Setting her brushes down, she offered him a smile. “Of course. Be back in a flash.”

She ducked out of the trailer, leaving Ryou with Bakura and Touzoku-Ou. He could see them tilt their heads in the mirror, and Bakura’s worried face scrunching through his makeup.

“Are you alright? Our Ryou gets bad headaches from time to time. You might be experiencing one of those.”

“Actually,” Ryou used his toes to pivot the stool, “I don’t think it’s related to your Ryou at all. Give me a second, I’m trying to…” His words disappeared as the voices, no longer overlapped, returned. Though still quiet, he could finally make out some of the words being spoken. Pressing his fingertips into his temples, he strained to hear, face wrinkled with effort.

“Three hours! It took three hours for them to basically tell us to go fuck ourselves?!”

“I told you I couldn’t guarantee anything. I tried, Touzoku-Ou, I really did.”

“The worst part is I believe you, Pharaoh! What I don’t believe is the gods are as ‘unable to assist’ as they say! What do they have against me and my families?! Long before I committed crimes against them, they damned my village, and now they’re damning Ryou, who has done nothing but dare to associate with me?!”

“Calm down, Touzoku-Ou. We’ll save Yadonushi without the gods’ help.”

“Of course we will, that’s not the issue! I truly want to know why they hate us so much! They hated me enough to let my village be massacred, they hated you enough to leave you in Zorc’s clutches—”

“Don’t say the name, dammit!”

“—and apparently they hate Rohi enough to strand him in other realms where who knows what is happening to him! You know if it was the pharaoh or his light, they would bend over backwards to help! I’m fucking sick of them treating my loved ones like outcasts!”

“Touzoku-Ou, please. I know this must be infuriating, but I do believe they are unable to help this time. I really, really don’t think they are trying to hurt you or your family this time around.”

“You’re already their favorite, Pharaoh. You don’t need to suck their cocks more.”

“Omri, don’t make me openly take the pharaoh’s side. Please. Just… Come here. Sit down. Take some breaths.”

“Fuck this, Bakura. Fuck the gods. Fuck everything.”

“Shh, c’mon, don’t cry in front of Mr. King. It’ll only make you feel worse… Let’s go back to our room for a bit.”

“I want to stay with Ryou.”

“I know, but you need to step out for a minute.”

“Hey!”

Ryou blinked at the shout, losing his focus on the faint words. He was distantly aware of droplets streaking down his face. The other Bakura and Touzoku-Ou stood in front of him, each looking into his eyes, each with concern written across his face.

Touzoku-Ou asked, “What’s going on? You started crying all of the sudden…”

“Touzoku-Ou…” The dark-skinned man leaned in, expectant. “No, sorry… Not you… He’s hurting. Him and Bakura both…” Ryou smiled sadly at them. “Thank you for being so kind and understanding, but I can’t wait here any longer. It’s a shame, I would have liked to have seen the show.”

The pair reached for him, Bakura squeezing Ryou’s hip and Touzoku-Ou grasping his hand. Gently, Bakura asked, “You think you can do it on your own? I thought you needed help from your world the first time.”

“With or without outside help,” Ryou assured him, “I need to get back to them. Being away is painful, and knowing they’re suffering breaks my heart. Don’t worry; once I vacate this body, your Ryou should come back.”

Both of them frowned, and Bakura, pulling back his hand from Ryou’s hip, mumbled, “Should? No offense, kiddo, but I’d prefer you swear it.”

“I can’t promise everything will go smoothly, but I promise to check back as soon as I can. If for whatever reason he’s not back, I’ll find a way to help you.”

They exchanged a glance, not pleased by the mysterious circumstances but nodding nonetheless. Touzoku-Ou pressed his lips to the back of Ryou’s stolen hand. His words, spoken in a gravelly purr, seemed to carry heated desire for him, not their actual boyfriend.

“Maybe it’s ‘cause you’re wearing our love’s face, but I can’t help but trust you. Make sure you come back for a first row seat and a private show sometime.”

Somewhat flushed by the sultry whisper and unexpected affection, Ryou managed a crooked smile, tearing his eyes away from them and towards the mirror. He approached cautiously, uncertain if the same trick would work again, and pushed his palms onto the glass. He dug, deeper and deeper, into his soul. The magic bubbled to the surface faster than before, lighting the mirror first beneath his flesh, then all at once. Gasps at his back encouraged him, drove him to push harder.

The surface morphed, and Ryou barely kept an elated cry in his throat when, through the haze of magic and what seemed to be a doorway, he saw his boyfriends. They laid on a bed, shoulder to shoulder, staring at the ceiling with empty eyes. The men behind him saw them, too, he guessed since Bakura muttered, “That’s so freakin’ weird…”

“Please let this work,” Ryou pleaded to any force who would listen. He inhaled, deep, steady, and exclaimed as loud as he could, “‘Kura! Roh albi!”

Their reaction started gradually, like they were dazed and distrustful of their own ears. Bakura propped up on his elbows. Ryou watched his russet eyes trail over the surface of the room, diving into the shadows tucked into each corner, and at long last finding him through the doorway.

“Yanushi?” He heaved his slender body over Touzoku-Ou’s, tumbling in a very non-thief-king manner off the bed. “Ryou, is that you? Touzoku-Ou, tell me I’m not seeing shit.”

“Fucking hell!” Touzoku-Ou sprang after him. “No, you aren’t seeing shit, unless I am, too.”

They rushed the mirror, barely allowing each other through the doorway in the hurry, and Bakura reached over what Ryou assumed to be a bathroom counter. He lined his palm to Ryou’s, and the surge of energy shocked Ryou, almost making him pull back with a yelp.

Touzoku-Ou mimicked the action, and again, Ryou struggled to keep from pulling away. Their magics mixed through the glass portal, light and dark, stabbing into his palms. It wasn’t painful, he supposed, so much as powerful. Like several static shocks on loop.

“I can hardly see you, Yadonushi,” Bakura groaned, his eyes narrowing. “How did you even manage this?”

“By luck or convenient fluke, the same way everything seems to happen,” Ryou laughed, and the tears down his face no longer carried sadness. “Can you help pull me through? I’m not sure how much longer I can keep this up — it’s draining me by the second.”

Frustrated, Touzoku-Ou growled, the sound rumbling from deep in his throat. “We’re going to try , Rohi, but it didn’t work with Kek and Atem helping. Fuck, I want it to work, but…”

“It almost did, though!” Ryou laid his forehead on the glass, wishing it was Touzoku-Ou’s shoulder. “I was so close. I swore I could have touched you.” 

He winced, knees wobbling, elbows shaking. His palms began to burn, and he continued urgently, “We don’t have a lot of time! This body can’t handle my heka, and I can feel myself losing strength. Help pull me through, please!”

Through the mirror, he saw their magic swell in response to his cries. Touzoku-Ou appeared to be burning in scarlet flames, while Bakura’s magic swirled from ground to ceiling like a void. He pushed himself harder than he ever had in his own body, hoping he wouldn’t leave lasting damage on his unwitting landlord, and the pure frenzy coursing through his veins told him his limit was fast approaching.

The Bakura and Touzoku-Ou behind him gasped again, stepping back from the white and gold light emanating from their lover’s body. They watched the light build and build until they couldn’t bear looking at it anymore. A sound like distant thunder boomed through the trailer, and when everything became silent, the light vanished.

The two men looked up, cautiously opening their aching eyes. Their boyfriend’s body, slumped over Mai’s vanity, began to fall, knees too exhausted to hold his weight any longer. Bakura caught Ryou easily, stepping back to brace himself as he held him. Over his shoulder, Touzoku-Ou worriedly touched the boy’s cheek.

“Ryou? Are you okay, little gem?”

To their relief, two brown eyes peeked up through mostly lidded sockets. He spoke, soft and timid. “Baku? Tou?”

They planted sweet kisses down his face, happy to hear him giggle despite his obvious exhaustion. His eyes opened a bit more, still heavy, and he asked, “What happened? I… I can’t remember anything since I went to lay down for my nap.”

“A lot happened,” Touzoku-Ou sighed and brushed the other’s bangs from his face. “And quite honestly, I’m not sure what exactly it all was.”

Bakura grunted in agreement, his gaze pulled to the mirror. “Hopefully everything worked out for him. At least you’re okay.”

“Huh? I’m confused, guys.”

They took turns kissing his forehead, and Bakura continued, “Go to sleep, beautiful. We’ll talk about it in the morning.”

--- --- --- --- ---

AO3 Link: In Another Life - Chapter 12 - LiteraryAngel - Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga) [Archive of Our Own]

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Looking for a Place to Happen

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series), age gap, general stupidity.

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

Series Synopsis: There’s lots happening in Birch and you find it all too amusing.

Sister series to Smalltown Bringdown, When the Weight Comes Down, Little Bones, and Fully Completely

Note: We’re starting Sam’s installment but this weekend I’ll probably only be catching up on my headcanons and drabbles because I’ve been a lazy bitch and I’m sorry to those who have been waiting.

Thanks to everyone for their patience and feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Chapter 1: I've got a job, I explore

💀💀💀

The sleepy town of Birch was awake. 

In those last weeks, the arrival of outsiders had roused the attention of many once passive residents of the timeless territory. Those brick buildings unchanged by the tick of the clock inlaid into the old tower above the library that chimed every hour on the hour. They still stood with only chips in the mortar but the air tasted different. The frost was more bitter and the sky more grim. An omen of something no one could predict.

It was the perfect setting for a screenplay. The isolated town with its unsavoury secrets and the visitors who threatened to bring them to the surface. It was inspiring to you, to imagine what was hidden behind the stern wrinkled faces of the town elders and under the jackets of those men who wore the cut of the local club. The bikers ruled the town covertly but everyone knew that Bucky Barnes’ palm was lined with the map of Birch.

As a bystander, an unnoticed observer, just another ant in the hill, you watched from the side and amused yourself with the drama of others. It was like a soap opera or another HBO hype machine. Those things you aspired to when you could be free of this ho-hum town.

The snows added to the natural gloom of the place. The deep heaps smothered the noise and harkened back to those days of colonial settlement. Forgotten, desolate, fearful. 

You ventured down in your heavy boots that stretched to your knees and pushed your chin down into your scarf. As a child, you ran and jumped in those piles, now you were out of breath just trying to walk past them.

You stopped in the bakery that doubled as the only café, a place where the owner, Babs, tried to to intimidate the last caffeinated trends. She was always a few seasons behind but you didn’t mind so much. 

You ordered the salted caramel mocha and waited patiently as the quiet woman fought with the steaming machines. She was older than you but you’d work with her for one summer during high school, only five years ago. She had the eyes of a child still, but there was something worn in her. As if she’d been exposed to far too much in her three or so decades in that place. She was a harbinger of what you didn’t want to become.

You thanked her for your drink and set out once more into the billowing winds. Birch winters were never kind but this one was crueler than most. Your teeth chattered as you blew the steam away from the lid and hugged it with your mittened hands.

You stopped short as you heard the familiar ding of the diner door across the street. You recognised the mechanic who kept to herself and once growled at you in the grocery store. She stormed across the street, followed closely and quickly by a black-haired man you’d only seen once before. He was one of those outsiders who came to deal with the club men.

You sped up as you sensed chaos brewing and pulled out your phone as you balanced your paper cup in your other hand. You flicked your camera on just as you got to the front of the shop and the man grabbed the mechanic. You let out an ‘oop’ as she turned on him and you aimed the lens at the couple as they fell into the snow, the man’s shoes giving little traction to his steps. 

You moved closer, stunned by the scene, and kept your cell phone rolling as you found a better angle around the snowy walks. As she choked him on the ground he elbowed her and she coughed as she rolled away. She snarled as he clamoured to his feet, slipping and sliding as he marched away.

You killed the recording and watched the man cross the street again, nearly wiping out as he did and when you looked back to the mechanic, she was gone behind the clattering door. You chuckled to yourself and tucked away your cell. It was prime footage for TikTok; with a bit of editing, it would be comedy gold.

💀

You stomped up the steps of your grandmother’s house, this time through the front door as you heard her chair rocking in the front room. You usually took the stairs in the back as you paid her to live on the upper floor of the duplex. You checked in with her daily, she didn’t get out much more than the occasional trip to the grocery store when you couldn’t or you dragged her out to join you for a tea at Babs’.

“You’re late,” she grumbled as you set your cup down and unzipped your coat.

“For what?” you scoffed.

“It’s after noon and you don’t even come down to say hello? A ‘good morning, nan’,” she harrumphed.

You chuckled and hung your coat before shoving your boots over on the mat. You grabbed your mocha and leaned on the doorway as you watched her crocheting in her chair, reruns of some court show playing from the boxy television.

“I was working,” you said, “sent in some stuff for review. Hopefully not much work to be done.”

“I don’t know how you make money on that interweb,” she bemoaned, “I don’t trust it.”

“Maybe you’d trust it more if you used the Netflix subscription I got you,” you crossed your arms, “then you wouldn’t have to watch trash daytime TV.”

She shrugged and muttered under her breath. She could be crotchety but you liked her sense of humour. Your aunts and uncles never came around because they just took it as spite. You were the only one who knew how to handle the jaded old lady.

“Maybe you coulda looked out the window,” you snickered, “quite a show going on in town.”

“Hmm, what’s that?” she stilled her needles and reached for her tea stained cup.

“Just a fight. You wouldn’t believe it, that lady mechanic beat the shit--”

“Language,” she huffed.

“Anyway, she had this guy in a chokehold. It was awesome.”

“What guy?” she squinted at you over her glasses.

“I dunno. Some out of towner. Remember I told you about that burly dude hanging around the library?”

“There’s more?” she sucked on her teeth, “those bikers have never been good news and now they’re bringing in more.”

“Yeah, well, what’re you gonna do?” you sniffed as you took out your phone and rewatched the scuffle with the volume down. You shook your head and opened up your TikTok. 

“I don’t understand why you’re always on your dang phone,” your grandmother pestered.

“I’m not always on my phone,” you smiled at her smugly, “there are those time when I’m listening to you prattle on or you know, making you tea, oh, and cooking you dinner. What was it I did last week? Oh that’s right, I got Pippin out of the crawlspace.”

“I’m too old to be chasin’ that cat all around,” she huffed, “where is he anyway?”

“He’s your cat, I don’t know? Last time I saw him, I sent him back out the window for shredding my charger.”

“He knows you need to give it a rest,” she laughed to herself, “got your nose to that screen too much.”

“And what do you do, old lady? Crocheting doilies to put where exactly?”

She gave you that dry smile, the one that said watch it but carried a hint of humour still. You hit post and put your phone away as you waved off her irritation.

“Well, you know what, I sit all day at my computer, doing who knows what and you know what it got me?” you taunted, “a large mocha!” you sipped as you sat on the sofa and grabbed the remote, “and it’s paying my rent and putting bullet points on my resume.”

“Mhmm,” she scowled, “just remember, real life ain’t online. Those videos you’re always laughing at like hyena, that’s not reality. You forget it and it’ll come back and bit you. ‘Specially with those bikers.”

“Oh, nan, you know too well, don’t you? Didn’t you have a fling with one back in your hippie phase?”

“Two, actually,” she raised her brows, “I was young and stupid. Not like you, but still.”

“I love you too,” you chirped and sipped from your cup, flicking the station to Jerry Springer, “that’s more like it.”

💀

Your usual TikToks were sarcastic and dull complaints about your small town life. The response was less than pleasing but it gave you an outlet to vent. You liked to goof around and document the very specific type of weirdos that resided in Birch. But the video of the fight in the snow blew up your phone and made it difficult to ignore the buzzing as you went back up to your room to eke out the last of your captions for the ad agency.

When at last you could call your day hard-earned, you logged off and sent in your hours to the agency. Social media promotion was easy enough but the working gigs for a thousand different companies was tedious. You hoped you could build your portfolio enough to manage a single corporate page as you continued to chip away at your creative outlets.

You picked up your phone as you waited for Netflix to load on your tiny smart tv and flopped onto your bed, not two feet from your desk. You hit the icon in the upper panel of your phone and scrolled through the notifications, pausing to turn on another episode of the cable sitcom from ten years before. You snorted as you read each comment but the number under the video made your eyes round. The thing was bound to go viral.

As usual, you went down to help with supper. Pippin, the orange tabby, returned to cry at his dish and you fed him too. Your nan peered through her glasses at a crossword as she tasted the tangy pasta sauce. 

“More basil,” she snipped.

“Well, I asked if you wanted to help,” you muttered, “I think it’s good.”

“Hmmp, I need milk,” she jutted her chin out, “for my after-dinner tea.”

“You couldn’t say something like three hours ago?” you blinked.

“I could have but I didn’t,” she snickered. You rolled your eyes and she took another forkful of penne and filled in another line on her puzzle, “ah, no hurry, girlie, you know I’m patient.”

“Patient? You?” you chuckled as you took your plate and shoved it in the microwave to keep it warm. The ancient thing had a dial and the door stuck, “I’ll just go get it over with.”

“Don’t forget your mitts,” she called after you as you tramped into the front room, “it’s cold.”

You pulled on your knitted cap and matching mitts. You zipped up your parka and shoved your feet into the deep boots. You grabbed your wallet and buried it in the spacious pocket. You bounced out the front door and down the steps as the sky sent down another coat of powder for the night.

You went up White Forge Street and through the short path behind the diner that led to the main road. You glanced over at The Asp, the beacon of the dull town, and turned towards the grocer. Like anywhere in Birch, the store was outdated and stuffy. It felt like stepping into another time with the paper bags and chunky tills.

You went down the center aisle and stopped at the fridge to search through the frosted glass. Your nan only drank whole milk and the last time you carelessly grabbed skim, she whined that even Pippin wouldn’t drink it. She was particular but that was just her nature. You couldn’t say you were any less fussy in some instances.

You grabbed a jug and the door slapped closed against the worn rubber seal. You headed up the candy aisle and brushed your woolly thumb over your chin as you considered gummy bears or Reeses’ Pieces.

“Hard choice?” The deep voice jolted you.

You snatched the box of chocolate and looked over at the man in leather, his chin tucked down behind the collar as snow dusted his shoulders.

“Sure,” you said as you brushed past him.

The cut of the leather told you he was better not entertained. While you thought the men amusing, you weren’t stupid enough to engage with them. You rarely listened to your grandmother but she was wise in her own way. 

You knew a girl in highschool, she was fucking around with one of the club men in her junior year, she ended up with a baby and no support. You didn’t think he was into you that way but he could hardly have innocent intentions.

“How’s the old lady?” Clayton asked as he rung in your order at the end of the belt, you moved along with the groceries and pulled out your wallet.

“The usual, you know? She’s tryna quit again. Don’t know how long it’ll last.”

“Oh yeah? I’ll keep a carton aside for her,” he kidded as you felt your phone vibing in your back pocket.

“Don’t encourage her,” you swiped your card and punched in your pin, “although I don’t know what’s worse; the smoke or her sucking on those mints all the time.”

“Oh, it’s not the bitchin’?” he laughed.

“That, too,” you scooped up the paper bag and put your wallet away, “have a good one.”

As you came to the end of the first counter, you were nearly cut off by the club member as he swept around from till two. His own purchase of a car magazine and jerky was tucked under his arm.

“Ah, sorry,” he smiled, a sparkling smile, almost charming.

“No worries,” you continued on and he followed close behind.

“Those mitts look real warm. ‘Specially in this weather,” he said as you pushed open the door.

“Uh huh,” you kept on as your boots crunched out into the snow.

“You know where I can get a pair. Leather isn’t exactly thermal, you know?”

“These? My nan made ‘em. I’m sure Clayton got some hung up back there,” you looked across the street as you stepped up onto the ledge of snow between the sidewalk and the road.

“Am I bothering you?” he asked.

You looked at him dumbly and almost laughed in his face. You glanced back across the street then down towards The Asp.

“Sorta,” you answered.

“Make you a deal. Leave ya alone for your name.”

You eyed him. He was older than you like many of the Commandos. At least a decade, likely more than that. You chewed on your hesitation and cradled the bag more firmly against your side. His eyes strayed as he tried to see through the thick layer of your coat.

“Nah, I’m not s’posed to talk to strangers,” you said and hopped off onto the road.

You heard him behind you as he struggled to follow and as you came up to the other side, he came parallel with you and kept stride with you easily.

“I know you’re young but you’re not a kid,” he intoned, “what’s the harm in a name?”

“It’s a small town,” you stopped short of the end of White Forge, “I think I know enough about you to avoid you.”

“Oh ho, is that it? Well, I’m Sam, I’m not a stranger now, am I?”

“Not interested, Sam. Sure there’s women your own age over at the bar,” you nodded behind him.

“You wanna come see? Maybe have a drink?” he gave a crooked grin.

“You don’t give up, do you?” you shook your head, put off by his forwardness.

“Well?”

“Not tonight, Sam,” you turned around and headed down White Forge.

“Then what night?” he asked but you didn’t answer and he didn’t follow.

You turned down onto your street and refused to look back in case. It would be best not to mention the run-in to your nan, she was paranoid enough as it was. Besides, you’d forget about it by the end of next week.

[mammons-tax-returns]

Hey! I saw that your ask box was open, so I was wondering if I could request how the brothers (if not all then just Lucifer, Beelzebub, and Leviathan) would react to the mc defending them! Like they get into a fight and their only response was "they were talking bad about you" or something! -🥀 (Also side note, do you right for GN! MC's, or just male?)

BROTHERS REACTING TO MC DEFENDING THEM

Hey anon! Thanks so much for requesting! As for your question, This is TECHNICALLY a male reader blog, however, if it isn’t necessary, I will use he/him pronouns loosely. In other words, if the prompt doesn’t specify/depend on it being a male mc, it will be gn!mc! Hope this clears up some confusion! I’ll start putting whether a post is for a gn or male mc at the very beginning of said post from now on.

✖️GENDER NEUTRAL MC✖️

fluff, some angst :).

Lucifer was more angry than anything to hear that MC had gotten in a fight. The one thing he made sure they did was to stay out of trouble. And yet, they seem to be a magnet for chaos.

He stumbled upon the fight before it got bad, and had the demon dealt with as he accompanied MC to an empty room at RAD.

Although he seemed to be sweating out of exasperation, it was easy to tell that he was simply worried about them.

Well. Kind of.

If you look past the hour-long lecture it is.

MC tries countless times to explain themself, and yet he never fails to reroute the conversation back to his lesson on running from a demon before things get bad.

It gets to a point when MC has to put a hand over his mouth to quiet him.

Only then do they explain what happened, and what caused the fight to begin with.

First, he is absolutely shocked. And he can’t really find the right thing to say.

Then, his eyes relax, and his frown seems to melt away. He truly wants to be mad still, to teach a proper lesson. But he just can’t do it.

“It is true that humans tend not to think things through, I suppose.”

He crosses his arms and continues, “Well, I appreciate it, but I don’t need the protection.”

After ruffling their hair, he smirks a little.

“I’ll have to keep a closer eye on you if you rush into situations like that. Maybe put you on a leash.”

After things are cleared up, he finds the situation a little comical. A human defending a demon.

Luckily, the wounds aren’t bad, or else Lucifer wouldn’t have hesitated giving some sort of consequence to the MC.

Mammon is, unfortunately, not around to witness or intervene into the fight.

So when the next time he sees MC there’s a dark magenta ring around their eye, he loses it.

He wastes no time taking them home from RAD. We know he never really cared for classes anyways.

Unlike Lucifer, he wants to hear them out on the way home.

Although he physically feels himself getting butterflies in his stomach from the idea of being cared for, he clears his throat and tries to push it aside.

He knows that they’re not going to be taken away from him anytime soon. At least, not with his unintentionally vice grip on their wrist they aren’t.

And yet he can’t help but constantly flick his gaze back to them and their wounds.

We were all waiting for this one: he feels horrible that they got hurt because of him, albeit indirectly.

He puts emphasis on steering clear of hotheaded demons— or, all demons that aren’t the brothers for that matter.

“I hear ya, The Great Mammon is a gem that all of devildom should be tryna’ protect! But... You’re better off ignoring that... I mean, look at ya! All beat up and stuff... N-Not that you look bad or anything. Well... Um.”

When MC laughs at him, he’s both relieved that they’re not upset enough to sulk, and embarrassed because of his wording.

So they have to reassure him that they simply find him worth protecting— for exactly this. He cares for them, and is probably willing to protect them too.

As he’s sloppily tending to their bruises, he offers to spend the day with them.

He says its his payment, and that he would defend them when Lucifer found out about today.

But it’s more so the fact that he wishes more than anything to spend every day for the rest of his demonic life with them.

Levi is another brother who is unfortunately not around at the time due to his home schooling.

That’s why he’s one of the last people to find out about it, and he feels guilt hit him like an 18-wheeler.

The injuries are a little more severe, but nothing that would keep someone from going about their daily life. Nonetheless, Levi is demanding to be the one to patch them up.

As soon as MC cuts him off before he can start rambling, they make sure to explain the situation, i.e. “I had to defend you! Or else they would have kept talking bad about you.”

He turns red and covers his mouth, undoubtedly mumbling something about how impossibly romantic the situation was.

But after that, he shakily asks that MC tries not to talk as he takes time to let everything sink in. He still can’t believe it.

So he finds himself shakily asking questions like, “So... You just heard him and decided to-... To defend me? No one asked you to?”

For every reassuring nod that he gets, he feels his head spin a little faster.

It takes him a while, but all the wounds are properly sterilized and taken care off beneath his cold fingers.

He leans back in his seat, and blows out a slow puff of air. “MC... You’re badass. Seriously. I don’t really know what I, a demon, have done to deserve you... But... Thank you.”

The conversation ends with tears, but they couldn’t have been anything but happy.

He just can’t believe someone could go as far as to fight for his sake over a simple ill-intended comment.

Satan witnesses the event. Which... May or may not be a good thing.

MC doesn’t notice him at first. They’re too busy with the demon that has her hands on their uniform collar.

But then they see the green flames licking at their peripherals, emitting from somewhere behind them.

The demon girl in front of them seems to lose all color in her face at the sight of those same flames. She instantly drops MC to their knees, and attempts to run.

As Satan steps forward to grab the female student, he spins MC around with ease so that they won’t have to witness whatever he’s about to do.

MC doesn’t know how much time has passed due to the shock of the moment. It could be seconds or minutes. But when Satan pulls them back up to their feet, he is stone faced.

MC walks stiffly to the House of Lamentation with Satan, careful not to set anything else off in him.

The entire walk to his room is silent. The first time he speaks is when he offers a seat on his bed, nudging books aside with his foot.

He takes a deep breath before he begins diligently tending to the injuries.

“Mind explaining what happened?” He doesn’t sound angry at them, but it’s hard to tell with him.

Satan notices the hesitation in answering, so he gives a small smile. “Are you scared? You shouldn’t be. I’m just a bit... Tense, is all.”

After a moment, MC tells him the reasoning for the fight.

Satan sighs once more and places a hand on theirs. Oh to be so selfless yet still be a fragile human.

“MC... Demons talk. And it’s not always nice. It’s best to just let it go, okay? Well... Give me their name first, but I can’t have you losing a limb for me. Who knows what i’d do then.”

MC can’t completely promise that they’ll simply forget about anyone that talks badly about him, but Satan only gives a helpless sigh.

“What ever will we do with you.” He is much more relaxed than before, and his tone is affectionate.

MC doesn’t know what happened to that girl, and you figure it’s best to never ask.

Asmodeus is preoccupied with a hand mirror, but a circle of gathering demons certainly catches his attention.

He hums, interested. He’s always been one for drama.

But as he peeks over the crowd, his heart sinks impossibly deep in his body.

MC isn’t bloody, but by the looks of it, they may be very soon.

While he’s ridden with shock, a punch lands on their face, and the crowd roars. The yells overtake his own, and he can’t get through the group of people pushing and shoving.

Diavolo and Barbatos were alerted of the congregation of students, and are only just now arriving. And at the sight of them, students scatter like bugs. Leaving MC on the ground and clutching their face in pain.

Diavolo and Barbatos leave MC in the care of Asmodeus while they turn to resolve the problem with the attacker.

Asmodeus is frantic, fanning his face as he helps MC to sit up. He doesn’t know what to do first, does he ask to see the wound? But what’s the point when he doesn’t really know how to treat it in any circumstance? No one has ever socked him in the face before.

So he opts to carry them off to the infirmary, bridal style. All along the way, he gives reassuring words that seem to slightly calm the injuried MC.

“Hey, beautiful! Ughh, the nerve of some demons! I can’t even begin to— Oh right... The ice pack, I’ll get that now, so sit tight, love!”

While he allows them to press the ice to their eye themself, he is massaging his frowning face. All while he seems to be worried about all the wrong things.

“Is this type of injury permanent on humans?? Your face is too good for that!” “That low-level demon... I wish I could ruin his face a hundred times worse than what he’s doing to innocent bystanders!”

MC patiently allows him to vent, because hearing him fret of the most “Asmo” things somehow brought light to the situation and distracted from the throbbing in their face.

An hour must have passed before Asmo actually takes in the situation. “Oh, but I haven’t even asked... What in devildom were you doing with such a grotesque demon? Do I have to replace Mammon in guarding you?”

Finally, MC explains.

He’s less than shocked. Instead, he holds his own arms with an almost sympathetic smile, “Oh, darling... It’s better to talk to Lucifer about things like that... If at all. As the Avatar of Lust, It’s kind of part of the program to get nasty birds twittering about you... Fan behavior.”

MC seems less than convinced, replying with a small, “But...”

Asmo grins and puts a gentle hand on their shoulder. “It’s adorable that you’d do that for me, MC, really. I wish I could just dress you up and show you to the world, show them how special you make me feel! But please. Don’t sacrifice your complexion for a-ny-thing!”

Even Asmo can feel himself get butterflies when MC does the smallest of things for him. But taking care of that face is no joke to him.

Beel is at the gym when it happens, and is the last one to hear about it. The brothers are all discreetly trying to decide whether or not to tell him. We all know how scary he can get.

MC listens to Mammon... For some reason. And that entails avoiding Beel until the scrapes and bruises on your body heal.

Bad idea. Beel now looks like a hurt puppy, and is desperately trying to figure out what he has done.

The fateful moment of realization for him comes on a Tuesday night, less than a week after the incident. MC walks into the kitchen, searching for a late night beverage to drink and also hold against their wounds.

Beel is already there, instantly looking ashamed when he sees them.

“Beel...” MC starts, forgetting that they were supposed to be avoiding him. They stop themselves before hastily pulling their sleeves down to cover the lingering bruises.

This catches Beel’s attention to detail when it comes to others.

His eyebrows furrow a bit, and MC gulps.  There was no getting out of this.

Before completely explaining everything, MC has to calm him.  Because if not, he’d be checking every inch of their body for serious injuries.  And even if there were none, he’d never let them leave bed for the next week.  At least.

They take a deep breath and start with the people poking fun at his soft personality in such an intimidating body.  And then finishing with the plan of steering clear of him to keep him from getting worried.  (you leave out mammon’s part last second)

At first, his eyes are serious as he listens intently, silently going over things more than once in his head to ensure that he was understanding the story properly.

Once MC has finished, his eyes change completely.  They’re soft, and concerned, but not overbearing.

MC felt a bit guilty seeing him like this.

Beel reaches out to hug them, but is hesitant, worried that they’d still be hurt.  So MC has to let him know that their wounds have healed for the most part.

“MC....  Firstly, thank you.” He pulls them into a soft hug.  “It makes me all happy on the inside when you do things like that.” His voice is quiet, but much too unstable.  MC knew that this was a telltale sign that he was near tears.

MC doesn’t hesitate to reach up and stroke the back of his hair, feeling him bury his head into their shoulder.

“Beel? Are you okay?”

“I should be the one asking you that.”

‘you should know better’ is what he wants to say. But maybe they don’t, he thinks. Afterall, when was the last time a human with such limited magical capability was surrounded by demons 24/7?

“I just need you to promise me.” He carefully pulls back and sucks in a breath, keeping himself from imagining MC scared and hurt without him— because of him.

“Promise me that you’ll tell me about things like that first. Before you get yourself hurt, or... Or worse.” There’s another word that he has to stop himself from saying. He doesn’t know how he could handle that thought.

There, he thinks. If they didn’t know before how serious it was, now they did. Hopefully.

The brothers notice that Beel is a bit more normal than the days before, so they assume that things have been cleared up for the two.

Although they have to pretend as if they had never heard about the incident when he mentions it.

Belphie was definitely not there when it happened.

But unlike with every other brother, MC was unable to be saved immediately after having found themselves in a brawl with a low class demon.

MC silently curses as they find themselves limping through the halls of the House of Lamentation.

They’re lucky to have only gotten out of that with an injured ankle, they remind themself. It didn’t seem... Broken. But it definitely needed more medical attention than it received now— A knee-high sock they pulled off of their foot wrapped tightly around a ruler they used as a makeshift splint.

They were sure that the majority of the brothers were at school, so they’d have at least a few hours to figure out what to do.

How would the brothers react if they saw them like this? Would they feel that this was a mere inconvenience? Afterall, this may just be a bad sprain, and now look at them. They can barely limp. Much less walk. But maybe after a bit of rest, it would magically heal.

They decide to head to the music room (?), where they knew that none of the brothers would immediately run into after school.

After finding a stool to sit on, MC hisses when they bump their ankle on the floor. The throbbing seemed to shake their whole body.

“Holy shi—“

“MC?”

A sleepy drawl from the couch behind them causes them to freeze. They wanted to slap themself. Of course Belphie would be sleeping here, why didn’t they think of that?

“What’re you doing h—....” He stops.

MC can already tell that he had noticed the poor job they had done with their ankle. “I fell down the stairs. But it’s okay, I just—“

“MC. I’m not stupid. Why are you home so early, alone? If you skipped or left early, Mammon would have sniffed you out like a dog and be here, too. Spill it.”

If Belphie was good at anything (besides sleeping), it was reading emotions. There was no lying anymore. And so MC simply explained the fight and its causes.

When they turn to look at him, he simply blinks. He doesn’t seem very concerned, but he sleepily walks over to inspect their leg.

He’s careful to support their foot as he lifts their entire leg, checking the swelling.

“... Geez. You’re stupid.” His eyebrows knit together with an unknown emotion. Worry? Irritation? A mix of both? “I don’t care about what such irrelevant demons think, and you shouldn’t either.”

MC is a little speechless, but only laughs. “Yeah. It was a little dumb looking back at it. But you should have heard them, Belphie... There was no way I’d go without a fight, okay?”

Belphie smiles back. “If you wanted to prove yourself to me... There were other ways, you know?”

“Should we get Beel to help us set up the pillow fort?”

“Well, how else are you gonna heal? You can’t get better if you don’t rest with me.”

[zevlors-tail]

Retail Therapy

A/N: If you work retail like I do and get frustrated with your job on a weekly/daily basis, if you’re just fed up of all the crazy at work, this one’s for you! Covid has made it extra garbagey to work retail so here’s a little vent. Also, me writing soft Bakugou content? Yes.

Characters: Izuku Midoriya, Katsuki Bakugou, Shouto Todoroki

Warnings: Mentions of Covid in Bakugou’s part. Cursing. Customer invading your personal space (also in Bakugou’s part), tiny mention of anxiety in Todoroki’s scenario.

Summary: You’ve had the most infuriating day at work. Lucky for you, he knows just how to fix it.

Izuku Midoriya

Oh my god this gif is so bright i love it

“Hi baby!” Izuku greets you as you haphazardly toss your shoes on the floor, not caring where they land. One ends up under the dining room table and the other ends up somewhere among the chairs, but you could care less.

You’re pissed. More pissed than you’ve ever been, but specifically with work. You constantly feel like you’re babysitting your coworkers, and they never listen to anything you have to say, even when you’re put in charge of your department- if only for the night. Every time you turn your back, they’re pulling some sort of dumb stunt; how are you supposed to get work done like that? You can hardly focus on your own task when you’re trying to clean up after everyone else. Picking up slack is something you’re used to by now (unfortunately), but it shouldn’t have to be. You shouldn’t have to do your work and everyone else’s work too. Not to mention, you were tired of being the middle man whenever there was drama. Why did everyone feel the need to tell you everything?

“Ughhhh!” You just groan in response, half a smile on your face while a wild look enters your eyes. Izuku knows that look. He can tell you’re frustrated after a long day of work, that you’re at your wits end with your job. “I swear, Izu, I came this close to rage quitting. I mean I wouldn’t, because I’ve got bills to pay and stuff, but, just- this close.”

“Oh yeah?” He gives you a trademark smile despite your woes and invites you to follow him to the dining table where he sits down with you, taking your hand in his. “Tell me all about it.”

And you do. He listens diligently, nodding and getting into the gossip playfully, asking about certain coworkers and making silly comments to get you to laugh. Things like, “But they would never!” and “Oh my god, no they didn’t!” along with your personal favorite, a very dramatic “No!” He even makes over the top facial expressions to go with his comedic comments, and he has you laughing with him in no time, the stress of the day melting away under his electric green gaze. Your vent turns into more of a fun story than it does a bad experience. Izuku is a good listener and he’ll always be there for you.

“It was just ridiculous! Man, I can only take so much in one day. Usually I don’t let them get to me, but I couldn’t take both of them coming up to me every five minutes and complaining about each other. You know, as much as they like to talk about each other not doing their jobs, maybe they would get more work done if they just stopped talking and got back to work in the first place!” As you tell him your story, he hums a response, nods, and gets up from the table. He pats your head as he passes by you on the way to the kitchen, and you follow him with your gaze, questioning him silently.

“I’m still listening, love. I can hear you from here, promise! Do go on.”

You continue, not paying much mind to what he’s doing since you’re so engrossed in your tale of idiocy and annoyance turned silly. And he is listening to you, still making eye contact as he moves about the kitchen, still putting his two cents every once in a while. But before you know it, a savory smell hits your nose, and you realize he’s not only started dinner but that he’s practically finished with it by the time you’re done talking. He wastes no time in making two plates and bringing them over, setting one in front of you and the other in front of his usual spot.

You’re extremely grateful to him for taking the initiative to make dinner while you de-stressed after the day’s events, and you make sure to tell him that as you both dig in to his cooking. He learned from the best (bless mama Midoriya). You’re reminded that no matter how bad your day has been, you get to come home to your favorite human being on the whole planet and love him, and be loved by him in return.

“Thanks for making dinner, Izuku. You’re truly the love of my life.” You say it in such a manner that makes your partner laugh, bits of food falling from his mouth as he struggles to swallow properly. “That’s attractive,” you tease, but you’re laughing too. It’s a happy moment for the both of you.

“Good to know you only love me for my cooking!” He jokes. He eyes your plate before not so subtly reaching over and stealing a piece of food. You gasp in mock surprise, but save your revenge for later. There are plenty of ways to get even with him. But for now...

Izuku: 1

Y/N: 0

Katsuki Bakugou

soft bb

“Shit, fuck! God, I hate today!” you exclaim as you slam the car door shut. Bakugou had been kind enough to pick you up from work, and you were glad that it was him driving and not you behind the wheel. You were shaking in your seat, your hands trembling in anger and teeth grinding in frustration as you glared out of the window silently for a moment.

“Bad day?” Bakugou asked gruffly, foot gently pressing against the gas peddle as you took off on the drive home.

“Yeah, you would not fucking believe people. You’d think everyone would listen to directions and stay home since it’s like, oh, I don’t know- the middle of a fucking pandemic?”

“Oh, believe me, I know. People are stupid. Don’t let them get to you, baby.” 

Maybe those words were odd coming from him considering he used to be so angry all the time himself, but Bakugou had really mellowed out since his days at UA, and he knew how to hold his tongue. Unbeknownst to him, however, this was more than a bad day for you. Bad days you could let go of, but this- this was something else. Not quite the worst time you’d ever had at work, but much more than a bad day. Today had been somewhere in between the two, and you weren’t sure what to call it. You’d been yelled at, berated, understaffed, and blamed for pretty much all the problems going on in your specific area even though you were trying your best. There was only so much you could do yourself, and even though you knew it was better to just let it go, you couldn’t. Especially not after what that wretched customer had done to you.

“I’m trying not to, but it’s really god damned hard not to fucking smack a bitch when they invade your personal space and tap on your shoulder. In a fucking pandemic. Actually, I don’t even think she was wearing a mask now that I think about it. How considerate of her.” The words are like venom spitting from your mouth, your fists clenching as you vent to your partner in confidence.

“They did what?” Normally he’s good about keeping his anger in check. Normally, he could handle you venting to him about anything. But someone else touching his Y/N? No way in hell. And during a period of time where touching people was especially rude and inconsiderate? Fucking no way in hell.

“Yeah! Tapped me right on the damn shoulder and didn’t even say excuse me. Words exist! Just tell me you need something and I’ll get it for you! I hate people who do that shit, it’s so unnecessary and rude! And it violates my personal space and creeps me out. I feel disgusting. If you touch me at work, then I’m not liable for anything that happens to you! You get slapped? Then that’s on you, bitch! Don’t fucking touch me!” You finish up your speech with a wild hand gesture, your head shaking in disbelief while you try not to think about too much.

It takes Bakugou everything he has not to just slam on the breaks right then and there and put the car in reverse to drive back to the store and find that piece of trash. If he could give them a piece of his mind, he would. But he can’t, so he settles for the next best thing: comforting you and making sure you’re okay. You did just have your personal space violated after all, so it’s understandable you’re pretty shaken up and angry about the whole thing. He would be too, honestly. 

The rest of the short drive home is mostly silent, save for the small talk you make with each other and the quiet background noise of the radio station that he let you pick. His general rule of thumb is that the driver picks the music, but he knows you’ve had a hard day, so he doesn’t argue when you change it to your preferred station and start drumming your fingers to the beat. He’d rather you wind down this way than keeping it all bottled up. When the two of you finally arrive to your shared home, you let your shoulders fall a bit and sigh as you trudge to the couch, not even bothering to take your shoes off before plopping down and face planting into the soft cushions. You listen as Bakugou wanders off to the bedroom and returns a moment later with a shirt in his hands.

“You said you felt disgusting earlier, so I brought you a new shirt to change into. Figured you probably didn’t want to stay in your work clothes.” His tone is softer, a little more careful since you’re home now and he knows you don’t like to fall apart in public. Home is where your true heart is, with him. If you’re feeling any sort of negative emotion, it’s more likely to come out here. And he wants to offer his help, but... “Do you want some help with it?”

You shift so that you’re sitting up on the couch and raise your arms slightly for him. “That would be nice, since I’m utterly exhausted and worn out. I’d really appreciate it,” you reply honestly.

He hesitates a bit, unsure of something before he asks you a question. “Is it okay if I touch you?”

Your response is immediate. “Of course it is; I trust you. I never mind your touch.”

He smiles at that.

He helps you get changed into the ultra comfy shirt he brought you, and after that the two of you heat up some leftovers before cuddling up in bed together, the worst of the day washed away by Bakugou’s soft fingers running along your side as you lay your head on his chest.

“Thanks for always taking care of me. You do an amazing job at it.” You yawn into his shirt and snuggle your face against it, the soft cotton making you feel safe and secure.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Katsuki.”

Shouto Todoroki

I’m feeling extra soft for Todoroki recently

“Hi, Y/N. How was your day at-” 

Before Shouto can even finish his sentence, you’re flying into a vent about work, passing right by him on your way to the bathroom as you start to pull of your work uniform angrily.

“Oh my god, it was an absolute disaster!” You’re still breathing heavy from all the stress, eyes darting around wildly and face flushed from being mad and under pressure all night.

“What happened, love?” Todoroki coaxes gently. He comes to stand in the door frame of the bathroom and leans against it, his hands in his pockets and hip cocked out to the side. He has a sympathetic look on his face as you explain all your troubles of the day.

“Everything, Shouto. Everything happened. I mean, not everything, but it sure felt like it! Our delivery showed up late, and we didn’t have product all afternoon, so our customers were really angry and I kept getting yelled at! It’s not my fault it showed up late! If I had the product to put out I would! It’s complete and utter bullshit!” You make your way to the bedroom to pick out pajamas, not really caring about the pair you take out of the drawer or anything else for that matter. Your mind was focused on one thing and one thing only: your day at work.

Sometimes you had a hard time winding down from work, especially on days like these, and Shouto knew that. You usually were able to separate work from home fairly well, but occasionally you just needed a little reminder that it didn’t have to follow you home to bed, and he knew how to help with that. He’d seen you like this before, had witnessed your break downs and freak outs over your job and the stress that came with it. Retail was not for everyone. Todoroki always told you that you had the patience of a saint, though everyone had their own limits, and you must have hit yours tonight.

“I don’t appreciate being called names and told that I’m practically useless. Customers can be real fucking snobs all the time. And I was trying so hard too, but even after the delivery showed up, it was busy as hell, and every time I put something up on the shelf they just kept taking it down! I think I sold through at least three boxes of something I normally have to throw away at the end of the week. Seriously! It was a mess, and we didn’t have enough staff because one of us was still suspended, and our normal person who works the backroom doesn’t work weekends, and even our supervisor called off, so it was just me and this other girl. It was awful. I can’t even- ugh! It’s not fair!”

You started to work yourself up, your anxiety skyrocketing as you thought of everything that went wrong earlier. Rationally you knew there wasn’t much you could do about the situation, but that didn’t mean you felt the same way. You should have done more, pushed yourself harder, but you also didn’t want to stay and work overtime on an empty stomach and not a lot of sleep the night before. Shouto must have seen the guilt in your eyes, because the next thing you knew you were being moved to the bed where he wrapped you in the softest blanket he could find, and then he was telling you he’d be right back as he slipped out of the room.

You sat there, a little confused for a while, before you heard a beeping noise from the kitchen and the door to the microwave open and close. Todoroki returned with a steaming mug in one hand and a book in the other, and he said nothing as he set the book and cup down on the nightstand before working around you, positioning a few pillows against the headboard of the bed. He fluffed them up a few times and grabbed the giant comforter, pulling it up over your lap and practically swaddling you. Finally he sat down behind you on the bed and pulled you into his lap, and you rested your head against his chest as he petted your hair softly. Slowly, you felt all the tension from earlier on in the day ebb away into drowsiness and exhaustion.

“Alright, blanket burrito,” he said, referring to your form all wrapped up in soft cotton, “I warmed up a cup of your favorite drink and brought us a book. Do you want me to read to you, or would you prefer to play a video game or movie?” He gazed down at you with a brow raised in question, a look of amusement on his face at the sight of your head just barely peeking out from the blankets.

“If you don’t mind, could you read to me? I like your voice...it’s soothing.” You melted into his touch, work already forgotten about and a wave of calm washing over you. 

“Of course, dear.” He gave you a precious smile and kiss on the top of your head.

Todoroki always knew how to fix your bad days, and he always did so without hesitation and without you having to ask. He handed you the warm mug first which you took gratefully, and then picked up the book and began reading to you.

How did you get this lucky?

[sunflowersoonyoung]

a devil and an angel | umji & sowon

w.c ↠ 2.3k

pairing ↠ umji x fem!reader x sowon

genre/s ↠ fluff, smut, office au!

description ↠ After a tireless day working as an intern at a publishing company, you enjoy spending the evening venting to fellow intern Yewon. The budding relationship between you and her is inadvertently thwarted by sexy, somewhat mean Vice President Kim Sojung.

warning/s ↠ suggestive themes, alcohol

a/n ↠ there may be more parts to this! I feel like I could write more for this AU. I love the contrast between the two relationships! Plus Sowon is so hot in this universe. Also, sorry that it took me so long to write it 😭 I hope it was worth the wait!

-

Collapsing into a chair at an empty table, it was quite relieving to be off of your feet. Although it was only lunchtime, the day had seemed to have stretched on forever. You absently stirred your rice with chopsticks and scanned the dining room for Yewon. She was running late.

As fellow interns from separate Universities, you had developed a close friendship through sharing your daily struggles with one another. As interns, you received low pay, which led to minor exploitations from management - who worked you extra hard and held you to high standards. It was draining, but you were learning far more than University could teach you, so you persevered.

Yewon had a considerably tougher time trying to fit into the workplace. She could be clumsy, but she worked hard to make up for it. Additionally, she had the sweetest personality you had ever encountered. Hence, you had made the effort to befriend her.

Abruptly someone dropped into the seat beside you, their lunch tray clattering on the table surface. Yewon looked exhausted, her eyes swollen with dried tears. She offered you a meek smile.

“You’ve been crying,” you comment, and her smile fades. With her interest fixed on her food, she begins to recount her experience from just a half-hour earlier with a distraught expression.

“I was assigned a printing job, and messed it up,” Yewon sighed, “when I expected one of the managers to come over and scold me, tell me to restart like always, the Vice President Sojung came up to me instead. I-I’ve heard things about her, but nothing compares to seeing her in person.”

You also had heard a smattering of opinions about the Vice President, Kim Sojung. She was a devil in the form of breathtaking beauty, lacking tolerance for mischief and foolery no matter the perpetrator. Ruling with an iron fist, it did not take much to get on her bad side and end up without a job. She explained why Yewon was practically trembling.

“She didn’t say much. Just scoffed and said she would never accept s-someone like me into the company,” Yewon’s lip quivered, blinking back tears. You wrapped an arm around her shoulders, drawing her figure against yours in an attempt to soothe her.

Yewon was almost like a younger sister to you - albeit with a dash of romantic tension. To hear of this injustice overwhelmed you with hot fury.

“Don’t listen to her,” you murmured against her hair, “she doesn’t know anything about you, not like I do. You’re the hardest worker I know, Yewonnie.” She draws in a shaky breath, peering up at you from her position buried in your shoulder. Her smile is warm and genuine, making your heart flutter.

“Thanks, (F/n). That means a lot.”

You decided to distract her by recounting your morning, gradually shifting away from the gloomy mood whilst finishing lunch. She seemed grateful for the distraction because despite your assurance she was still shaken.

Eventually, with empty lunch trays in hand, you both stood intending to go separate ways. Yewon cleared her throat and turned back to face you.

“Hey, (F/n)?” She called, her voice small, stopping you in your tracks, “um, do you want to meet up after work and get dinner together?”

You didn’t even try to restrain the wide grin that immediately plastered over your face.

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

-

You waited in the frigid evening air by the front of the company building, hands pressed into the pockets of your slacks.

All you knew was that Yewon had a few extra tasks to complete and was going to finish late, knowledge you had gained only thanks to the handful of texts she had managed to send. You didn’t mind waiting for her, anyway.

As you kept your interest upon the passing cars, a woman passed by with perhaps the longest legs you had ever seen. She looked incredible from behind in a tight pencil skirt, hips swaying elegantly with each lengthy step. Stopping at the curb, she fished her phone out of her handbag and thumbed a swift text. As she stood waiting, she turned and caught a glimpse of you.

The realisation washed over you. This gorgeous woman, with glossy raven hair running down her back like a waterfall and sharp fox-like eyes full of intelligence, was none other than Kim Sojung. The descriptions you had overheard matched her perfectly. Your mouth went dry as her gaze fell across you.

“You’re that intern, (F/n),” she mused, pressing a thoughtful finger to her lips, “I’ve heard good things about you.”

Anger boiled up in your throat, and before you could suppress it, a snarky comment slipped free, “it’s a shame you couldn’t be this nice to Yewon. Otherwise, I might’ve believed that you were a kind person.”

Immediately regretting your words, you felt a cold chill trickle down your spine when her initial surprise melted into an amused smirk.

“Oh?” She chuckles lightly and your cheeks flush, “you’re cute.” A sleek black car pulls up to the curb and she opens the door, winking at you before she departed. You’re left stunned to the ground, still untangling the mess of events that just occurred.

Regardless of the animosity that you harboured for her, you had to admit that she was practically oozing sex appeal.

“(F/n)?” A warm hand grasped your shoulder, shocking you from your daze, “Is everything okay?” Yewon was wearing an expression full of concern as she peered back at you. You swiftly grounded yourself and swallowed your surprise.

“S-Sure, sorry. Let’s go.”

-

The night sky was a deep shade of navy, city smog shutting out the stars.

Yewon stumbled, her cheeks pink in the dim light of the streetlamps. With her arm looped around yours, she clung to you, using you as her support. It seemed alcohol did not mingle well with Yewon, even if you’d only had six glasses of beer between you both. You felt glaringly sober compared to her.

“C’mon, we’re almost at your house,” you laughed as she stopped to reach for a tree branch hanging over the sidewalk, her interest captured by the blossoming flowers. You caught one for her and pressed it behind her ear, earning a pleased giggle from her.

Yewon still lived with her family in a spacious house blocked off with a black iron gate, automated with fingerprint ID.

Expecting to simply bid her goodnight and make your way home, it caught you by surprise when she wrapped her arms around your waist. Her hair tickled your nose, clouding your nose with her sweet scent. She hummed contentedly, and it seemed you were not going anywhere for a moment.

“Y-You’re … my favourite person, (F/n),” she stammered, her voice muffled against your shoulder, “I really, really like you.” Tightening your grip on her, you savoured the confession with each passing second - as if taking a breath would shatter the moment.

She withdrew, maintaining eye contact despite the lack of lighting. You could faintly make out her round cheeks and long lashes but still couldn’t measure her expression. Fiddling with her purse, she eventually retrieved a twenty-thousand won bill and placed it in your palm. You gasped and tried to return it but she hushed you softly.

“Use that and get a Taxi back instead of walking,” Yewon spoke calmly, in a manner that convinced you of her growing sobriety.

Leaning forward on the tips of her toes, she pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. It left you dazzled, observing breathlessly as she turned on her heel and retreated home through the tall gates.

-

With both of you standing idly by the printer waiting for a copy job to finish, an awkward silence simmered between you. Though you had hoped the alcohol would erase Yewon’s memories from last evening so that she could continue being her sweet, bubbly self and you could pretend that nothing had ever happened, it seemed luck was not on your side.

You accidentally met eyes and Yewon blushed various shades of pink, turning her head away as quickly as she could. She was too innocent. It made you flutter, excited to initiate with her a simple relationship filled with sugary actions. Holding her hand, feeling her head lull against your shoulder as you watch a movie together; little things like that.

“Hey, (F/n), right?” The tension was broken by a passerby manager, someone in charge of the editing team if you remembered correctly, who slowed to stop in front of you.

“We’re having a meeting in room four, can you bring us coffee? There’s six of us. Yewon can finish whatever you’re doing here.” Without even waiting for a response, he was gone, leaving you with a half-explained task. You were not even sure where room four was.

Coffee was not something you were unused to making, however. Usually, when staff members were tied up, it was you who brought them their hot beverages.

After filling six cups, setting them on trays and asking someone where room four was located, you made your way to the meeting room; thankful that the door was already open. You did not expect to collide with someone, the force causing you to lose grip of the tray in your hands. Coffee practically exploded over you and the stranger, hot liquid turning cold as it seeped through your white button-up.

Sojung stared you down, her thin blouse soaked. She looked less than amused; she was fuming, actually. Her jaw squared as she tried to steady her furious breathing.

“I-I’m sorry,” you manage to stutter out, aware of the attention you had drawn from the others in the room. Sojung seems unfazed by your apology and all of a sudden you wished painfully that you could take this hefty mistake back. As much as you hated her, she could end your short career at this company with a single signature.

She took your wrist with an iron grasp and began to drag you down the corridor. This is it, you thought woefully.

Sojung yanked you into her office and slammed the door shut behind you. You stood with your eyes glued to the floor, too afraid to look up and see her enraged visage.

“You messed up big time, young lady,” she scolded, her back turned to you. There was a flurry of movement, the sound of fabric rustling. When you finally looked up at her you were staring at the crease in her back, the clasp in her ivory bra. You almost choked on your spit, but Sojung seemed mostly unbothered, casually hanging her soiled blouse over the back of her chair and stalking towards you.

You gasped as she pressed a card into your hand, realising that it was her personal bank card.

“You’ll go down the street, and you’ll buy me a new shirt. The director is coming to that meeting, and I won’t be embarrassing myself in front of her by showing up in a coffee-stained blouse.”

She stood dangerously close, and it took all of the restraint you possessed not to shift your gaze from her face down to her wispy figure. You gulped heavily, feeling your skin absorb all of the heat in the room.

A slow smirk paints her lips as she observes the effect she has on you. Sojung advances on you, her steps gradual but taunting. Each click of her heels on the smooth flooring marked your demise.

Pressing your back against the door to keep your distance, Sojung placed one finger beneath your chin and tilted your head up towards her. Her bank card slips out of your hand.

“You’re naughty. Aren’t you lucky I like you?”

Her lips grazed yours slightly, ghosting over yours as if to tease you. The contact shot tingles all over your body. Cocking her head, she kissed you roughly.

Sojung wasted no time, possibly because her meeting was looming and she needed that change of clothes pronto. Her tongue pushed against yours, her saliva sweet as it mingled with your own, gripping your wrist and massaging your palm against her breast.

She guided you back to her desk, unbothered by the mess of paperwork that you sat on. You could feel the papers crinkle beneath your backside. Sojung’s assault shifted to your neck, forcing your attention back to her.

Sharp nails buried into your bare thighs as she parted your legs, sliding down your underpants from beneath your skirt. She harshly tested her thumb against your clit, furrowing her brow when you yelped in pleasure, your hips instinctively seeking out her touch by bucking back against her.

“You better keep quiet love,” she hummed, “else everyone will know what we’re up to in here.”

Heat throbbed painfully between your legs when she ducked down, breath clouding against your slick vagina. It took every ounce of strength in your body to swallow the deep moan that threatened to emerge as her tongue tasted you for the first time.

Your hand flies to your mouth, the only way for you to hold yourself back because now she was eating you out with full intensity. It seemed as if Sojung couldn’t care less how difficult it was for you to keep quiet.

One finger slid inside of you and you arched your spine in response, practically throwing yourself back against the desk. Sojung’s grip on your thigh was deliciously painful.

“Fucking come,” she growled, and the command practically makes you come on the spot. You muffle your cries with the palm of your hand, legs trembling as she keeps licking. The overstimulation made you see stars.

You’re almost sobbing, ears ringing and drowning out the sound of her low chuckle.

“I’ll need that shirt now, sweetheart. Get yourself something nice to wear while you’re at it. And don’t worry about the price.”

[heart-of-flames]

What would you say is your characters' greatest strength and weakness and what would they say is their greatest strength and weakness?

Well I think they’re all little shits but that’s beside the point....

Hmm... let me think.

Aeleanor/Aeson: I think one of A’s greatest qualities is there ability to listen. They can be silent for hours if that’s something that another person needs which I think is really special. Especially when a person just really wants to vent. However, they are very pragmatic when it comes to a lot of things in their life. If something doesn’t follow a set guideline then they’ll usually ignore it. Which has caused them to miss out on a lot in life.

Elaria/Ezra: I think E has a gentle heart. They always put others before themselves even though it’s not in the most obvious ways. Which is something you want in a future leader. I do think E, because of this, shields themselves a bit more when it comes to outsiders... which isn’t a good thing at all. They need to learn to love themselves just as much as everyone else.

Catherine/Caleb: Loyalty. C is loyal to a fault. If you’re lucky enough to earn their trust then they’ll be one of the greatest confidants you could ever ask for. On the flip side, I think a big weakness with them is their willingness to give people more chances. Which has caused them to get hurt on multiple occasions. They need to learn that not everyone deserves a second chance.

Lydia/Luca: Their openness. L isn’t afraid of telling people what’s on their mind. Of course, they’re always aware of how someone else is feeling but when it comes down to it L will tell you straight up what they think of you. They’re blunt in a way that’s not meant to hurt anyone’s feelings but can. However, they do struggle with grudges. L can hold a grudge till the day they die if they wish to. It’s something that they need to work on.

Samara/Silas: Their humor. S has an energy around them that pulls people in. Makes them laugh and smile because S just exudes warmth and cheer. Their wit causing people to crack. However, S sometimes doesn’t know when enough is enough. Even if they don’t mean any harm by continuing.

Milena/Maven: Their intelligence. M is very intelligent and they’ll always use that to help the people closest to them. Whether it’s with a project that they’re working on or something more trivial. M will always be willing to lend a hand. On the flip side, however, they don’t have that many people they’re close with... if there’s any at all. They don’t open themselves up at all. Which doesn’t help their self confidence when people do try to talk to them and then slowly stop because of their lack of social aptitude... a cycle that needs to be broken.

Natalia/Nikolas: Their integrity. N believes in themselves a lot. They believe that what’s right is right and what’s wrong is wrong. They know that there’s a gray area but they also believe that it shouldn’t define everything. They’ll be honest with you when they believe you need honesty... even if it hurts. They rarely ever doubt themselves. However, N does have a problem with stubbornness. If they believe that something is right, even if it could be wrong, they’ll fight tooth and nail for it. Causing a lot of headaches along the way.

Lauren: Her kindness. Lauren has always prided herself on maintaining her humanity. With everything she’s seen and experienced she has never wanted to lose herself in the pain and suffering of her patients. Has always tried to be a beacon that they can look towards in their most dire times. However, Lauren puts too much of herself into her patients. She cares too much... and while that may not seem like a weakness it’s one of her biggest faults. Because she’ll take the blame for everything that went wrong. Even if there was no possible way that it was her fault.

Faolan: His strength. I’m not talking about the physical kind... even though he could probably bench press a tree... I’m talking about his mental strength. Faolan, no matter what, will always protect his pack. He will keep his focus on doing so even if he’s at his weakest. Because he knows that his pack needs him. That his family needs him. However, Faolan has trouble accepting that he needs help. He has trouble believing that he can’t do it all... I’m not sure if it’s necessarily because of his pride or because he’s ingrained it into himself that he has to be able to do it all.

Aidan: Protectiveness. Once you have gotten close with Aidan there is nothing he wouldn’t protect you from. That boy would step in front of a flaming arrow for you. He would defend you against even the largest of foes. He would always make sure that you were okay in the end. However, he wrestles a lot with his pride. Aidan isn’t one to just brush away a bruised ego. He’s been belittled a lot throughout his life and he won’t roll over when he feels like he’s being slighted... even if it’s not even in a malicious way.

Irithiel: Leadership. Irithiel is an amazing leader with a heart of gold. She would do anything for her Riders. Would do anything to make sure that they were safe and sound. That they would be able to return to their mates and families. That the people of Gallinia and Haven were safe and sound at the end of the day. However, her wraith is something that can be one of her greatest weaknesses. When Irithiel has been pushed too far nothing can stop the hellscape that follows.

Now what do they think?

Aeleanor/Aeson: “My skills in diplomacy, of course. I wouldn’t be where I am now if it that wasn’t my greatest asset. I’m not too sure about weaknesses though. I suppose I can be a little callous at times.”

Elaria/Ezra: “I’ve always tried to have the best outlook on things. Even when things look bleak I’ve tried to look at the silver lining. But when I don’t think there is one things can get pretty bleary. I’m an extreme in both cases.”

Catherine/Caleb: “I’d follow the people I love to death if that’s what they asked of me. I would do anything to make sure that they were okay, but I don’t always realize that they don’t feel the same. That, while I would gladly lay down my life for them, they would gladly step aside and let me.”

Lydia/Luca: “I’m a pretty good at socialization when the times calls for it. Even though I have a problem of getting easily bored when someone’s talking and making it known.”

Samara/Silas: “I just like making other people happy. There’s no greater joy to me then bringing other people it. Though I think I sometimes overdo a tad bit. Because people tend to get mad at me fairly easily.”

Milena/Maven: “My reconnaissance work. I’m one of the best infiltrators in Haven. It’s something I pride myself heavily on. I suppose some would see my antisocial behavior as a weakness but I’ve never really cared.”

Natalia/Nikolas: “I’ve always liked listening to people. Hearing their life stories and what makes them tick. I’ve always appreciated making other people feel heard. But, I admit, that I get far too curious for my own good and sometimes ask too many questions within the span of the story.”

Lauren: “My ability to do my job well. I have saved countless lives because of my knowledge. Lives that wouldn’t of had a chance otherwise. I just wish that I was able to know more for all the lives that were lost because of me.”

Faolan: “Leading my pack has never been an easy feat but I’ve always managed. I think that I could do a better job and I’m sometimes too lenient but we get by.”

Aidan: “I’d do anything for my family. For the ones that I love. That’s not something that has ever changed within me. But I do have a tendency to hate almost everyone on sight.”

Irithiel: “My patience. You don’t get to be where I am without being patient. Especially when you have to deal with the people that I do on a daily basis. Though I do wish I could be better at reigning in my temper when it’s been fully released. Especially when I turn it on people who don’t deserve my ire.”

[fluffymcu]

Letting Loose

Part FIFTEEN

This series is TICKLE related. Outfits that are linked here are purely for picturing the clothes, you don’t have to look like the model.

Series Summary:  You’re the little sister of the one and only Captain America. You’re also the youngest girl on the team, so that automatically makes you the avengers’ little princess. And they spoil you as such. They have become your amazing family and you don’t know where you’d be without them. This series will show random adventures and fluffy events in the daily life of the reader and her family, along with an unexpected turn later on as you read.

A/N: I’m so excited to be writing this series! This is my first time writing one and I’m a bit nervous but I hope it all goes well. :)  Hope you enjoy!

Word count: 4,593

A week later. You could say you were pretty well rested. You went to bed relatively early that night, and since you had gone running with Bucky and Sam that afternoon, you were tired so you were really able to sleep through the whole night. 

Today you were at school, writing some stuff down on your pad and copying things your teacher wrote on the board. That day, your teacher had explained that you all were going to work on a project and suggested that you all find your teammates quickly before he assigned them himself.

Many of your friends and classmates asked you, but you looked over at Ruby and saw that she hadn’t moved from her chair. “Thanks guys, but I think I already have a partner. Next time though!” You said, waving to them and making your way to her desk. When she sensed your presence, she looked up and gave you an awkward smile. “Hey! If you don’t have a partner, we can team if you want?” You shrugged. 

“Sure.” She said, clearing some stuff from her desk to make room. You both got started on your small project and soon, the time passed by and you were halfway done. That was until some kid you didn’t recognize walked through your classroom and asked for you. “I’m here for Y/n y/l/n. Someone needs her at the office.” He said. He handed your teacher a sticky note with your name on it. Mr. Thornton looked up at you and nodded. 

“Go ahead.” 

You sighed, confused but looked at Ruby Anne. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what they’re calling me for. I hate to leave you here to finish.” You said, giving her an apologetic smile. Ruby shook your head and waved you off.

“It’s cool, there’s not much more to be done anyway. I can finish it.” She said. You smiled brightly and gathered your notes and put them in your bag. You didn’t know if you were leaving school or just needed to do something quickly. But if you were leaving, then Ruby and Peter would have to too. So, you left your bag in the classroom and went with the kid.

You were walking alongside him for a few moments, noticing he had a very tired and lazy expression on his face. But then again, 90% of people at school had that face. You rounded a corner to see Peter standing in the hallway, pacing. You furrowed your eyebrows in more confusion as the kid led you closer to Peter before stopping in front of him. “Peter?” You turned to the kid and gave him your face. “Is this where I’m needed?” You asked him. The boy only shrugged and walked away. You watched him as he walked away and furrowed your brows even more if that was even possible. You were so confused. “Peter what’s going on?”

“Hey! So, I need you to do something for me.” He said. You stopped him right there, having too many questions.

“How did you get him to pull me out of class?” You asked, surprise lacing your voice.

“I gave him 5 dollars- look I know you have a lot of questions but I really need you to help me get my phone back.” He said, grabbing your wrist and taking you down the halls. 

“What? Why’d you get your phone taken away?” You asked. Peter didn’t usually get into much trouble so it surprised you that he got his phone taken away. “Wait, and why are we going towards the boy’s locker rooms?” You said, forcefully stopping in your tracks and resisting against him. Peter stopped and turned to look at you. 

“I was using it in class but I was in Ms. Abercrombie’s class and you know she doesn’t like anyone using their phones at all-”

“Then why were you using it?”

“Because I was reading up on news around the city for patrols and stuff. Anyway, I was looking at it and so she took it away and sent it to the principal’s office.” He growled. You raised your eyebrows in disbelief.

“The principal’s office? Dang, that’s extra.” You sighed.

“Yeah, so I need you to sneak into the office and get it back for me.”

“What?!” You yelled. Peter quickly shushed you and draped a hand over your mouth. “Peter why me? This is your problem. I don’t wanna get caught sneaking into the principal’s office! What are people gonna think when they see a sophomore trying to get in the principal’s office!” You whisper yelled.

“You’re not gonna get caught. That’s why we’re going through the vents.” He smiled. You widened your eyes in disbelief. Is this kid crazy? 

“Ughhhh Peterrr whyyy?” You whined, groaning when he took your hand to lead you into the locker rooms. 

“I know, I know. But I really need it back ok? I have a plan that promises you won’t get caught.” He says as you both arrive at the locker rooms, in the small hallway behind everything and where the vent is. It’s positioned high on the wall, almost on the ceiling. 

“Peter, if you got your phone taken away, I think you should just accept it and learn. They’ll give it back to you soon.” You sighed. 

“I know, but I really need it y/n. I have a lot of important information on there and plus, I’m going on patrol after school. I’m on a lead with a group of drug dealers and my phone has their info on it. So, I need it to track them down and beat the tonight. Please help me.” He begged, giving you puppy eyes. You sighed and thought. 

“Well... you need to potentially save a life, so.... fine. I’ll help you.” You smiled. Peter cheered and thanked you before giving you a hug. “But why do I have to be the one to go through the vents?” You asked. Peter chuckled.

“Because I’m too big to fit through them. Ok so, here’s the plan. The principal’s office is just: straight, pass about 2 intersections, right, left, another left, then right. Keep going until you pass the 3rd intersection and there should the air vent above his office. The screws should be easy to take off, be very quiet. I’ll give you my web shooter so you can climb up and down from the ceiling. I don’t know where he put my phone, but check in every drawer you can open. When you find it. shoot a web to the vent and retract the web to pull you up. Screw the bolts again and go back from where you came. I’ll be here waiting for you and keeping watch.” He smiled. You sighed, remembering the information and nodding.

“Okay. I think I got it.” 

Peter nodded and crawled up to take the vent door off. He hopped down and gave you his web shooter and you took it and out it on your wrist. “Don’t be nervous, you’ll do great. And don’t feel pressured either. Take your time and I’ll be here when you come back.” You nodded with a smile, still feeling slightly nervous. Peter noticed and gave you a thumbs up and locked his hands together and brought them down. You laid your foot on it and he hoisted yourself up and crawling your upper body into the vent. Your legs were dangling on the wall and you were struggling a bit to put your whole body in. 

“Ihihi think I’m stuhuhuck!” You giggled, making Peter smile. “I am sohoho horrible at stealth.” Peter smirked, looking at your legs. The backs of your knees were perfectly exposed. It was an opportunity too good to pass.

“Yeheah, you really suck at this.” He chuckled, suddenly scratching his fingers behind your knees. You squealed in surprise and burst into hysterics, kicking your legs out violently.

“Peteheheheher!!!” You brought your hand up to your mouth to stifle your giggles, since you couldn’t reach your legs. 

“What? You looked so nervous and stressed. I’m helping you ease up!” He teased, moving up to flutter his fingers a bit higher, the backs of your thighs. You shrieked and desperately started to climb, trying to get your legs in the vents, but it was no use. 

“NOHOHOO! STOHOHOP IT!!!” You laughed, now trying to slip back out of the vents and drop to the floor to escape the torture. But Peter only chuckled and grabbed your legs, lifting them back up to keep you in there before continuing his attack. “NOHOHOOO!” You cried, your laughter ringing through the vents. Peter was now openly giggling with you. 

“Not much you can do, y/n/n, you’re pretty stuck.” He smirked, squeezing up and down the back of your thighs. You cackled, the teases making this 10 times worse. You were praying that no one could hear your laughter echoing in the rooms. “Are you feeling more relaxed now?” He asked, grabbing your leg and scratching behind you knee, holding your ankle to keep you from kicking your leg out. 

“YEHEhhhhhehes!” You wheeze, erupting into bubbly residual laughter when he let your leg go. You lay there, completely immobile as you pant and catch your breath. Peter smiles up at you though you can’t see him and chuckles.

“Ok. So now that you're less nervous, thanks to me,” He says, making you roll your eyes. “You should be ready to go! Remember the steps?” He asked.

“Yup.” You say, grunting as you once again try to climb in. Peter grabs your legs and pushes you up to help you crawl in once you're in the vents, you stick out your hand to give him a thumbs up. Peter does the same and you start crawling through the school. “Okay, one, two, right.” You mumble to yourself. “1…2 lefts.” “Right. 1, 2, 3. Here.”

You reach the vent look down to see the principal’s desk below you. You check to see if it’s empty. It is. You then quietly unscrew the screws and gently let the door open. You take a deep breath and let your legs down first, shooting a web at the top of the vent and slowly reel down. You begin to look around the drawers of the office, checking in all the drawers of his desk. They’re empty. You sigh, looking around and a filing cabinet catches your eye. You walk towards it and find that the drawers are locked.

You look around and finally spot a set of keys hanging on the corkboard next to the door. “Bingo.” You grab the keys and unlock the cabinets. You smile as you find Peter’s cracked phone in the 3rd cabinet. You quickly grab it putting everything back the way it was, and retracting the web to lift you back up into the vents. “Like I was never hereee.” You say in a smug voice. You were pretty proud of yourself for doing something like this and not messing up. After tightening the screws again, you make your way back through the maze.

You stick your head out and see Peter sitting on the ground resting against the wall. “It’s official. I'm the world’s greatest spy.” You quipped. Peter grins at you and stands up.

“Awesome! You were amazing, I know it! Thank you so so much.” He sighs, helping you down. You giggle and hand him the phone.

“It was really fun actually.” You admitted. Peter nudged your ribs with his elbow, causing you to breathe out a laugh.

“I bet it was. Thanks again. Now I can get back to my leads.” He says, looking through the phone. “I’ll walk you back to class.”

Thankfully class wasn’t over yet, so you were able to return and finish the project with Ruby. You finished the rest of your classes and the school day went by. The 3 of you went home and did your chores; homework, laundry, etc.

------

 After you had all finished your chores, the team was in a meeting discussing a few things with Secretary Ross in the council room, so the 3 of you were hanging out in the theater room with a movie on. Godzilla was playing. However, you three weren’t really watching the movie. This happened a lot because you would eat all your snacks and get into a sugar rush, which ended up with you guys goofing around and jumping all over the place. Ruby Anne was kind of chuckling a bit as you and Peter flew around the recliner couches, jumping on them and doing acrobatic movements. You and Peter were challenging each other by giving each other moves they had to copy.

“Okay y/n/n do this.” Peter panted, jumping up in the air and doing a backflip, landing right back on the couch. You giggled and attempted to do it, put you didn’t have enough momentum, causing you fall flat on your back. You both burst into giggles and you slowly got up once you caught your breath.

“Thahat’s not fahair! You know I can’t do backflips.” You said, clutching your stomach from laughing so much. Peter chuckled and nodded at you.

“Tough cheese, y/n/n. Your turn.” He quipped. You growled at his phrase before smirking and grabbing one of the throw pillows.

“Okay… do… THIS!” You said, smacking him on the head, causing him to fall off the couch. That made Ruby Anne laugh a bit, covering her mouth to hide her smile. Peter groaned and sat up, giving you a knowing look.

“Ooh. Wrong choice of words.” He chuckled before grabbing a pillow. You scream at your realization and start to run around the theater, moving through the aisles of the couches and ducking behind them when he launches a pillow at you.

You both continue to chase each other around until you finally man up face him, commencing the official pillow fight. You're giggling hysterically, closing your eyes and throwing your pillow around blindly, repeatedly aiming for wherever you felt him.

After a moment you heard Peter grunt and pick you up from your waist and throw you down on the couch. You open your eyes and see him straddle you before whacking your face again and again. You raise your hands up to protect your face, still giggling uncontrollably. Peter grins at your attempts to protect yourself and digs his hand under your arm, causing you to shriek and bring your arms down. He cheers victoriously and starts to whack you again. “RUHUHUBY HEHEHELP!” You say, hoping that she’d at least tell him something. But before she could even say anything, Peter turned to look at her.

“Don’t even think about it or you're next to feel my pillow wrath.” He threatened. Ruby chuckled and stayed put, a slight blush on her face. You cackled as you tried to grab hold of his pillow but he kept ripping it out of your grasp.

“OHOHOW YOHOURE SITTING ON MY RIHIHIB! AHAHAND IT TIHICKLES! BUT IT HUHUHURTS!” You cry, making Peter laugh and move his knee from your ribs. You finally rip his pillow out of his hands and you press it on his face and push until he's on his back. You hop off the couch, giving him a hard smack with the pillow before running away, deciding to sit next to Ruby to potentially use her as a shield. Peter rounds the couch and has a wide smirk of his face.

“What, you think she’ll protect you? I’ll get her too!” He laughed and started to whack Ruby on the head. Since he didn’t know how she reacted to rough play, he kept the hits light, but fair. Ruby started to giggle, something you haven’t heard out of her yet. You grin and begin to whack her as well with your own pillow, eventually turning into a 3-person fight; Peter attacking you again after Ruby, and her attacking Peter.

Amidst the fight, Ruby felt herself feeling more and more attracted to Peter. His silly personality was very appealing and though it may be surprising, she liked guys that goofed around. Peter had a confidence that she didn’t see in many guys, while still being humble. This crush has been going on hard for 2 weeks now. She wondered if she should tell him straight away or not. Ruby Anne was a very direct person. She liked to be certain of things and she didn’t like to doubt stuff; it wasted her time. If she told him right away, at least she’d know if he felt the same for sure, right? Then if he didn’t reciprocate her feelings, she wouldn’t be wasting her time chasing something she wasn’t gonna get. It hurts less this way. She thought.

------

You're exhausted, sprawled out on the floor with your pillow a few feet away from you. Peter is doubled over on the backrest of the couch, looking lifeless. Ruby is panting on the couch and holding the pillow to her chest. It was a long battle.

Right then, Tony walked in to the theater room and made a woozy face. “What happened here?” He chuckled. “Looks like this place had an earthquake of its own.”

“We had a pillow fight.” Peter said, still not moving from his position on the couch. Tony chuckled and shook his head. He noticed Ruby on the couch and smiled, liking that she’s been hanging around you guys more.

“Ah. Well I'm glad you kids had fun. Meetings done. We’re about to start dinner.” You perked up at the sound of food and you got up.

“I’ll help! To speed up the process. Cause I'm hungry.” You smiled cheekily at Tony as you passed by him. He shook his head fondly at you before ruffling your hair.

-----

You were so happy tonight because you were helping Nat and Wanda make Chicken Alfredo for dinner; one of your favorite dishes. Since Wanda was vegan, she was making a small separate pot of pasta without chicken. When dinner was ready, you all sat at the table and ate, everyone wanting seconds and thirds. “This delicious and nutritious meal has definitely satisfied my hunger! I always enjoy when we have this meal.” Thor boomed, stuffing another spoonful of pasta. Everyone else agreed, thanking the three of you for cooking. You all continued to talk over dinner, Tony going over a few points that they discussed in the meeting, and when everyone was finished, you and Pietro stayed behind to help Wanda clean up the kitchen.

After a while, you were washing the dishes when you looked behind you to see Pietro looking bored out of his mind. He was staring out into nothing, lost in thought. You smirked and lifted a hand from the sink, flicking some water off to get it at him. He flinched with a look of disgust, coming back to reality. “Ugh! What was that for?!”

“Look alive Pietro! We’re cleaning!” You said cheerily, to tease him. Pietro grumbled and continued to wipe down the counters with the wet rug. He passed by behind you and pressed the clod wet rag against the back of your neck, making you squeal and shrug your shoulders up. You growled and got your hand wet again before flicking it on him. He had the same reaction for a split second but this time he looked at you with a look that told you you were screwed. Before you could even think, Pietro scooped you up and started blowing raspberries on your belly. You instantly fell into loud belly laughter. “NOHOHOOO IVE BEEN TICKLED ENOHOHOHOUGH TODAHAHAHAY!” You cried, letting your head hang backwards and you desperately pushed at his head.

“Not by me!” He teased, tightening his grip on you and rubbing his stubble up and down your belly. “Besides, its not my fault you’ve been a cheeky little thing today. Maybe you deserved everything you got!”

You shook your head as you laughed, Wanda smirking at your desperate laughter as she continued to dry the dishes and put them away. Just then, Steve came into the kitchen and grinned at your predicament. As soon as you saw him, (you don’t know why, but you did) you reached out to him for help. “STE-STEHEHEVE PLEHEHEASE TELL HIM TO STOHOHOP!” You whined. Steve chuckled and grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled it up with water.

“Try biting her ribs, she loooves that!” He said, winking at you teasingly.

“NOOOOOOHOHO!”

Pietro hummed thoughtfully and began to nibble at your ribs, making you convulse in his grip. “AHAHAHAA! PLEHEHEASE!” You beg. Steve watches you freak out as he leans against the counter, the corner of his eyes wrinkling a bit as he smiles. You think you're gonna die at the hands of the blonde haired speedster tonight. Or you did, because Wanda finally came to your rescue by telling them to stop.

“Okay boys, don’t kill her,” She chuckles. Pietro lets you go after a few seconds and you wobble over to the counter to lean on it, since your legs feel like jelly. You're still letting out tired giggles and Wanda steps closer to you. “We’ll handle the rest of the kitchen. Go rest, okay?” She says, giving your back a small rub before going back to work. “That means you're helping too, Steve.” She says, giving him a look. You smile and stick your tongue at your brother before leaving the kitchen and throwing yourself on the living room couch.

You're there for about 10 minutes before you feel the cushions dip quickly, Peter having jumped over the couch and landing between your legs. You were laid face down so you couldn’t see who it was, but you knew it was Peter by the way the cushions felt when he landed on them. “Hey, you asleep?” He asked. You turned around on your back to look at him.

“Not really. What's up.” You asked.

“Wanna go outside to the tree swing?” He asked. You smiled and nodded, putting on your shoes before following him outside. You both reached the swing that was pretty far away and you took a seat on it, Peter offering to push you.

You both talked and laughed, talking about the usual things, school, upcoming tests, gossip about girls you don’t really get along with in school, and everything else that came with teenager talk.

After a few minutes, you grinned as you had an idea to jump off the swing. You were going pretty fast and high but for some reason you weren’t scared at the moment. You hopped off, flying in the air for 2 seconds before falling down. You land on your feet but you kinda stumble down right after; but you catch yourself with your hands and stand up. “Nice!” Peter chuckles, walking around to the other side of the tree, where a strong thick rope was tied. “Think you can hang from the rope upside down, like I do?” He challenged. You giggled, walking to where he was and looked at the rope. It looked strong enough, you thought. With a nod, you jump up and grab it, using your core to lift your legs and hang upside down. Your holding your weight with your hands on the rope, and your kind of in a Spider Man position, except your legs stretched out and dangling instead of resting on the rope near your hands. “Wooow look at you!” Peter sings and you start to laugh, suddenly getting nervous. You feel your hands losing their grip on the rope.

“Okay nononono put me down put me down!” You squeak. Peter chuckles and loops his hands under your arms and you let go, flopping onto him, your back to his chest. You ler out a relieved giggle and you both sit down on the grass. It’s getting dark and the stars are becoming visible. You and Peter stargaze and make conversation again, and before you know it all the events of today have made you exhausted and you drifted to sleep. Peter looks at you to see you sound asleep and he smiles to himself, before gently carrying you, careful not to wake you up and takes you to your bedroom. He lays you on your bed and tucks you in before whispering goodbye to you.

-----

Ruby had seen Peter take you to your bedroom so she decided to wait for him down the hall. She was going to be forward and confess her feelings for Peter.

Finally Peter came out of your rom and started to walk down the hall before Ruby called out to him. “Hey, uhh Peter. Do you have a moment?” She asks. Peter smiles and nods, coming close to her. “Sure. What's up.” She takes a deep breath before speaking up to him. “Okay, so… I have been kinda wanting to tell you this for a bit now, so I'm just gonna say it.” She says, pausing. “I have a crush on you.—I like you kinda like a lot, and I was wondering If you felt the same? I f you don’t, that’s completely fine, I understand but I just thought I would tell you so I would know for sure…” She hums, her words dying out at the end.

Peter stood there, shocked and unsure of what to say. He felt so bad. “Oh…” He said.

“Oh?” Ruby echoed, looking up at him, shifting in her weight a lot. Peter shakes his head to get in the game and looks up at her.

“Umm… I'm- I really uhh- appreciate your honesty. Thank you for telling me. But umm,,, I- I kinda have a crush on… someone else.” He sighs, pressing his lips in a fine line.

Ruby nods slowly but fully, already knowing who he meant and smiling a bit. “Is it... y/n?” She asks. Peter stays silent for a minute before looking down at the floor, blushing and barely nodding. Ruby smiled tightly. “Yeheah, I thought so. I see the way you look at her sometimes.” She chuckles. “That’s cool though, she’s a really nice girl,,, Well, thanks for the talk.” She smiles a bit and turns to leave. Peters eyes widen a bit and he reaches his hand out.

“But wait Ruby Anne!” She paused and turned around to look at him, waiting for him to say something. “I hope this... doesn’t change anything, or you know, set things back. W-We’re good right? We’re still friends?” He asks, playing with his fingers a bit. He would hate for all their progress to be lost over this.

Ruby half smiles and nods a bit. “Yeah, were good.”

Peter nods, sighing in relief. “Great. Oh, and can you not...like... tell her? About this? I-I wanna wait until the time is,, right.” He said, knowing himself that he wasn’t planning on telling you anytime soon, at least until a couple of years when you’re older so as to not ruin what you have now.

“Of course, yeah I get it. Night.” She nods.

“Thank you. Goodnight Ruby.” He sighed. After that, they both went to their own rooms and went to bed as well. Sure, Ruby was a bit disappointed, but she didn’t feel jealous or envious. Now at least she knew for sure, and could move on quicker than she would if she had manifested those feelings for longer and longer until it would hurt more to let those feeling go. And that was okay with her.

[yeetussfetus]

hehe thawn

ok ok ok so ik that this was an idea so long ago but i wanted to write something and like this is all i could come up with pls dont come @ me 

Eli looked at his comm, which beeped out a “NOT RESPONDING, NOT RESPONDING” every few seconds. He let out an angry sigh and shut it off, too tired to think. You weren’t responding to any of his calls and he was going to need you on the bridge soon, and he wanted to make sure that Thrawn wasn’t the one who has to go and find you, since Thrawn was always lenient with you about these things.

Truly, he had no idea how a man of such elegance and high standards fell for someone so feral, but oh well. It’s not that you didn’t do your job, it was just more of your personality. He remembers someone describing you as a raccoon in someones trash bin at 3 am, and honestly, that description fit you just well. From waking up in the early hours to make a full course meal, to climbing through the vents instead of walking through the halls, it was a wonder how you even got into the navy. Even more of a wonder on how you befriended so many higher ups.

He turned to the nearest lieutenant, and said, “stay here, I’ll try and find her. If you don’t hear from me by the time Grand Admiral Thrawn comes back, tell him to find her himself.” As he left, he let out a tiny strew of curses towards you and your little stupid antics. Of course, he still was your friend, but he was tired of having to remind you about how to be an adult.

He looked down at his command and saw that you were in… a stormtrooper living area? No, wait, you were in a nearby hallway. What the-

Now more curious than tired, he almost rushed past other officers towards the lower levels of the Chimera, not really caring about how late he was to the meeting.

--------------------------------

Finally, reaching the hallway, he turned and surprisingly, the door was closed. It wasn’t locked, though, so Eli opened it: just in time for a shopping cart to be launched straight at him. He slammed his fist on the control panel again, and the doors shut, and a few seconds later, he heard a loud BANG from the other side of the door.

He opened the door again to reveal that it was none other than you in the cart, and you almost looked happy: almost. But when you turned and saw Eli, you were expecting a tirade of concerned mom friend instincts and for him to drag you back to the bridge, telling you that Thrawn wanted you or that you were late to a meeting. What you were not expecting was for him to enter the hallway, close the doors, and say, “I’m going next, or else I’ll snitch.”

Realizing that he was serious, you said, “Oooohhh, Eli, you know snitches get stitches-” 

“Did I stutter.” 

“... no and fine, but then give the rest of them a turn.” Eli looked behind you to see maybe 4 stormtroopers who were very confused on why a commander was there and why he was talking to you, but then again, you had asked to join them on their fun, and you worked close with the Grand Admiral of the ship, so it wasn’t the weirdest thing they had seen.

Rushing the cart back to  top of the almost slanted hallway, Eli hopped in and grinning like a madman, you launched him down and for once in his life, he didn’t really care about what anyone would think about his unprofessionalism.

--------------------------------

Thrawn was checking the clock every minute, wondering why not only you, but Eli was late, which for you, wasn’t that much of a problem, but for you and Eli? Something was up, or at least, something was wrong. He looked around the room, to see that every officer in the room seemed… tired. Deciding to reschedule the meeting, since it was more of an optional one, he told the officers who arrived to take the rest of the day off, and that the meeting was to be rescheduled another day. Then, he headed out of the office to find you and Eli.

Following both of your comms was easy: what he wasn’t expecting was for you two to be near the stormtrooper quarters. Why would you be there? At this point he was almost concerned about why you would be there. He walked a little faster trying to wrap his head around the fact that you would be there of all places, but hey, it's you, he couldn’t figure you out if you had a list of things you would do on a daily basis.

--------------------------------

Reaching the hallway that your comm stated that you two were in, he hears- a wheel. A few wheels of some kind being dragged away from the door. Then, it suddenly stops. He listens closely and he was able to hear your voice, and then Elis. It sounded like you two were arguing. Of course, he wasn't able to figure out what it was about. Thrawn decided to open the door, and take a look at what you were doing. However, he chose the wrong moment to open the door, because unlike Eli, he didn’t have time to close the doors, as he saw you and Eli in a shopping cart, rolling down straight for him. 

Realizing he couldn’t just close the doors, he slid against the walls as you and Eli rushed by him with the shopping cart. He looked up the hallway and saw that whoever you two were with leaving already. He sighed and decided to let it go for them, but of course, not for you two.

He stood back in the middle of the doorway as you hopped out of the cart. Eli tried to follow, but you motioned for him to stay in the cart. He slumped back down in the cart, knowing that he could just pin the blame on you, but instead he just crossed his arms, waiting for you to say something since it seemed like you had a plan. Thrawn straightened up and stared you both down, before asking one simple question.

“Where did you get the shopping cart?”

You held up a hand with your pointer finger, and at first Eli was expecting some bullshit lie, since it wasn’t actually you or Eli to acquire the cart, but it was actually the troopers.

What he wasn’t expecting was for you to grab the handle of the cart and start booking it to wherever Thrawn wasn’t. He felt himself go to one side of the cart then another as you twisted your ways around the halls. Thrawn simply sighed and then, too tired to deal with your bullshit, he started to chase after you two. 

Eli looked behind you to see Thrawn running after you two and started to panic. “_____, why the hell is he chasing us?” “For fucks sake, you think I know- wait he's chasing us.”

You looked over your shoulder to see that yes, Thrawn, your boyfriend, was chasing you and Eli through the ship. What was even scarier was that one, he was tall, he did actually look like a murderer, and two, his face was darkened, and the only thing you could see from this far was his blood red eyes. 

Enough to scare you, you turned back to continue your way through the ship as Thrawn chased you down the many hallways, and Eli was the one with the most terror in his eyes, since Thrawn seemed to be gaining on the two of you.

--------------------------------

Tarkin walked to the bridge of the Chimera, expecting you to be there. However, surprisingly, you weren’t, and neither was the deformed fruit Thrawn. His mood quickly decreased as he turned towards the nearest officer. “Where is commander _____?” The officer stood there for a second, before he explained, “Well, sir, she is… um…”

Tarkin was about to insult the man for his slowness in responding, when Kallus appeared in front of the doorway. “Commander _____ is pushing Commander Vanto in a shopping cart while they are running from Grand Admiral Thrawn.”

Tarkin turned towards Kallus with a confused look. “What?”

Kallus pulled out a datapad that showed a few security footage that were picked up, showing you pushing Eli in a shopping cart at full speed, while Eli was screaming at something behind you. Suddenly, Thrawn came into view, running straight for the two of you. Tarkin immidialy started to move out of the room, mumbling something along the lines of, “I’m gonna beat that son of a bitch to death” as he walked out of the room. 

Kallus stood there for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders and moved on with his life. This wasn’t the weirdest thing he has seen happen with you two.

--------------------------------

lmao pls take this i had to shoot myself in the foot to get this /s. anyway if yall wanna send in a ask i guess just send it in. is it technically request?? idgaf just send it in and ill try my best. 

oh also big thanks to @fallenrepublick u really helped me get inspired for writings

[theevangelion]

Keira: Dom Cat/Sub Kara Sneak Peek

For Kendrene: Mistress Cat/Sub Kara. Kara has some special duties as Cat's personal assistant, including being fucked by her boss in the office after hours. Bonus points for involving Cat's very steep heels in the process.

*OR*

Cat Grant gives her Bambi-legged personal assistant an intensive course on how to walk in high heels.

“Oh! Keira while you’re here!” Miss Grant halted the personal assistant escaping in search of her lunch hour. “I need you to run and grab coffee before you take your break.”

“It’s Kara.”

“Excuse me?” Miss Grant glanced over the top of her glasses from the photographs spread out on her desk.

“It’s Kara, not—”

“Did I ask for your name?” Miss Grant didn’t so much as blink. “Keira, I can only assume you got out of bed on the wrong side this morning—presumably in the dark too if those last season bargain basement shoes are anything to go by—which you wear with all the grace and elegance of a reversing garbage truck without any wheels on, by the way.” Miss Grant turned her attention back to the grainy photographs of a popular athlete kissing a woman who was not his wife. “I’ll take a danish too.” She shooed with her fingers.

Taken aback, Kara realised that she now simply had a new name until Cat Grant decided otherwise. There was nothing to say—nothing she could say—other than blither foolish apologies for misspeaking. Kara had been warned about Cat’s quick, no survivors taken attitude. The several ex-personal assistants in the Facebook support group had made it abundantly clear.

But, Kara hadn’t found the advertisement for this role on Indeed or LinkedIn. She found it through quite a different website altogether.

“Coffee, Keira.” Miss Grant pointed a manicured finger to the door. “Why are you still here?”

“Sorry! Yes! Coffee, Miss Grant. Almond milk?” Kara became determined to get it right for fear of the alternative.

“Of course I want almond milk, Keira,” the petite woman scoffed, “I’m not a fucking barefoot savage.”

***

“She’s looking to finish strong but the ankles are weak. Her coach and team will be disappointed with her performance today. Wibble wobble, will she make it?” Miss Grant chided behind Kara all the way through the office as though walking in these particular heels were an Olympic gymnastics floor final. “Oh! She nearly tripped but she stuck the landing!” Miss Grant burst enthusiastically as they made it through the door into her executive office. “Goodness, Keira. It’s like watching a horse try to gallop in roller skates inside a pressurised vacuum chamber.”

“I can wear flats instead of heels if you prefer, Miss Grant?” Kara suggested with blushing cheeks, leaning over slightly as she placed the coffee and rival daily newspapers on Cat’s desk for morning appraisal.

“Keira.” Slender hips pressed against Kara’s bent bottom, then lips craned and pressed against the back of her reddened ear. It made Kara’s heartbeat stop and her brain empty outward. “I’m offended you would suggest such a thing. Firstly, I’m offended on behalf of high heels. Secondly, I’m offended you would think about stripping me of the small joy that comes with mercilessly mocking you.” Kara swallowed hard and felt her boss gently tuck her wavy hair behind her ear. “You don’t want to offend me, do you Kara?” Cat whispered.

“You said my name.”

“Excuse me?”

“You—” Kara stopped and inhaled, shaking her head at her own foolishness. “Nothing, sorry. Of course I don’t want to offend you, Miss Grant. I… I like working here. I just want you to make sure you like me working here as much as I like working here.”

“You sound like bad Roald Dahl fanfiction when you speak off the tongue. I don’t like it.” Cat pulled back, but she gently slipped her slender fingers along Kara’s shoulder as she moved away—almost taking the venom out of her own statement. “Still, a woman without confidence is like a bisexual person without a Harry Potter inspired tattoo, Keira. Incomprehensible,” Cat snided, stepping around her desk with clasped hands at her waist. “I’ll teach you how to appreciate heels. Be here at six this evening.”

“After work?” Kara gulped and fiddled with her glasses.

“Will that be a problem?”

“No Ma’am.” She shook her head.

***

Kara was a pretty thing. Annoying, but pretty. There were few things that Cat enjoyed less than a young woman falling all over herself like a wounded deer in the wake of a cutting word from her quick tongue. But, Kara had seemingly made herself immune to the humiliation in recent weeks.

Cat would try, of course, nasty little remarks here and there to make the girl wither crimson. But Kara would just smile the most radiant smile and say a blushing thank you, apparently grateful for the attention and constructive feedback.

Truth be told, it warmed Cat.

But that didn’t stop it being any less infuriating.

Cat had placed the job advertisement on the fetish website for two reasons: to draw in the type of submissive natured assistant who would prove long standing—because having to re-explain the basics of how she wanted things done around the office every few months after the latest one quit was more headache than it was worth. Cat also placed the advert on the fetish website because it was a very, very fun and convenient way to bring her most private fantasies to life.

Cat enjoyed the thought of humiliating a girl to tears, parading her naked, spanking her over her knee, doing all sorts of rude and cruel things to her. There were the overtly sexual things too—the thought of taking her personal assistant to business dinners with electrified toys in all sorts of sensitive places. A tear-stained porcelain face buried underneath her hiked skirt licking her stresses away—waiting for the chief’s permission to gasp for a much needed breath.

Why keep it a filthy, private fantasy when she could find someone as equally perverted as herself? Better yet, why keep it a filthy perverted fantasy when she could find a little fool who would do these things without the good business acumen to demand a premium salary rate.

Kara made above market average of course, if only from the benevolence of Cat’s tender heart. The girl didn’t have enough between her ears to think to demand it, though Cat supposed that was rather a good thing for longevity's sake.

Cat never abided demanding types very well.

“Panties off too.” Cat didn’t glance away from her laptop screen despite wanting to stare. “I don’t care if you cry yourself blue in the face. Take them off or put the rest of your clothes on and march yourself down to the unemployment line.”

“I’m not crying,” Kara whispered softly as though confused by the statement. “I wasn’t wearing panties to begin with, Miss Grant.”

At that Cat snapped her stare across with witheringly cold precision. Kara stood there completely bare with her hands clasped behind her spine. From stood beneath the lighting directly above her, her skin was a gorgeous shade of bone white, her muscles taut and slender, which gave her the impression of being much taller than she actually was. Cat thought she looked beautiful, and she wanted to give the compliment where it was due, though she would never miss the opportunity for a quip.

“What happens when you assume, Keira?”

“I’m sorry, Miss Grant.” Wrong footed, Kara startled like a wide-eyed deer.

Much better, Cat thought.

Kara continued, “I just. I just like to be prepared for you, Miss Grant. I like to anticipate what might be required of me—”

“And what were you anticipating when you decided to forgo panties this morning?” Cat rose from her chair with a cool, indiscernible expression. “What? You had some infantile, school girl fantasy that perhaps I might use your dripping little hole as balm?” Cat blinked and pushed the smallest of smirks. “Of course, I suppose today wasn’t the first day the air from the subway vents tickled you in private places?” She clipped around her desk with poise.

YOU CAN READ ALL FOUR CHAPTERS OF THE COMPLETE STORY HERE!

[vicegrips-fr]

Into the Black

Azizi divulges his upbringing and the horrors that came with it.

-------------------- I’ve debated sharing this on here because to be completely honest it’s very personal and not for everyone. I’ve decided to open up and share it anyway with the appropriate warnings. It’s no secret that I vent through my own ocs to explore the intense abuse I survived and this is one of those lore posts that delves into that. Hopefully some of you will take the time to read it and if not I completely understand. It’s a long one and difficult to read in many ways I’m sure.

Gustav belongs to my boyfriend @wyvernrising!

Warnings: language, themes of parental abuse, drug/alcohol abuse mentions, and unpleasantness abound.

Pings: @fusefr @kattafr @stimmy-dragons -------------------

They’re together for the night. Himself, Gogo, and the Sub Rosa sent to protect them which includes his boyfriend Gustav. There’s an injury to his hand which isn’t self-inflicted but the product of his past come back to bite him in the ass today. Since then they’ve been sharing their stories to pass the time and ease the tension, getting to know each other better and well, now it’s his turn.

“You don’t have to share,” Gogo peeps up sympathetically, scooting closer so that their thighs are pressed together.

He already knows the truth, knows how hard this will be for Azizi to talk about.

Azizi waves a dismissive hand in the air, happily allowing Gus to take hold of the injured one and press a kiss to the knuckles. Some small part of him does care what they’ll think but it’s drowned out by the stubborn I don’t give a shit what you think of me attitude he’s spent a lot of time cultivating for himself. “We’ll see about that,” he says, pouring himself a glass of wine.

He pauses, bottle in hand as his eyes land on Gustav’s glass. There’s still wine inside but he fills it back up to the top for him anyway. Whether he chooses to drink it or not is irrelevant. Maybe he doesn’t want him to; more wine for him.

Their previous compliments earlier in the night did not fall on deaf ears and bring a smile to his face when he remembers them. “Ha! I am a pleasure to be around, aren’t I?” he chuckles, licking his teeth, “If I were a bore then I wouldn’t be netting as much dick as I am on the daily.”

It’s crude but true. He’s popular for a reason and part of it is his bombastic, nasty personality. Truth is sunshine and rainbows have no place in a brothel, no matter how hard Gogo tries to change that fact.

“But you’re right about what you all said,” he sighs, “It’s an ugly story, just like the rest of you have.”

For a solid few seconds he lapses into silence, picking through the pieces of his life inside his head like dusting off an old photo album. None of the pictures inside are things he wants to see, they’re kept in a box for a reason, after all.

“Where to begin?” he muses to himself, swirling the wine in his glass around, transfixed by the dark red liquid sloshing around the sides.

“Like Gustav and Gogo I was born in Neo Necropolis. The slummy part, obviously. My mother’s name was Tiwa but she went by Candy. If that doesn’t tip you off she was a stripper. A popular one, I was told.”

He stops to sip his drink, the mere mention of his mother’s name enough to elicit that response. Jesus. How long has it been since he said her name out loud?

“My father’s name was Ayoola but everyone called him Ayo,” Azizi continues, the wine burning all the way down his throat, “And his biggest claim to fame was his appetite for men and women. He frequented just about every brothel and strip club in a fifteen mile radius.” Azizi looks up, eyes passing over everyone’s faces in favor of focusing on anything but.

“You can all put two and two together and figure out how my parents met,” he laughs without joy, “They were never married, of course, but they lived together and it wasn’t long before I was born. Not like they were kind of people to use protection, but I sort of wish they had.”

It’s a terribly dark thing to say and painfully true. Plenty of people in a bad situation have the same thought- I wish I was never born!- and he can’t count how many times he cursed the world for being forced into it. “They fought all the time,” he says, recalling the first time he was old enough to understand the words they were yelling.

------------------  

”Get off of your ass and do something for once!” Tiwa screams at the top of her lungs, “I work my ass off on the pole every night and you can’t even get off the couch to get Zizi his breakfast? Pathetic!” It's early. Early enough that the sun is only just coming up, bright light streaming in through the dingy window in his bedroom despite the tall buildings that surround their home. It’s not the first time he’s been woken up this early from his parents fighting. His mama is gone all night, returning every morning and sleeping most of the day away, but not before their daily fight. Tail between his legs Azizi tiptoes quietly to the end of the short hallway, his little hands gripping the corner of the wall as he peeks out from behind it to see what’s going on. ”Oh, I’m pathetic?” Ayoola shouts back, “That’s rich coming from a pole crawler who calls herself Candy! The pipsqueak isn’t even up yet so fuck off to bed already and quit your yapping.” Azizi can’t see them from where he’s standing so he lets go of the wall and steps into the living room, ducking back into the hallway as quietly as possible when he catches a glimpse of his father laid out on the sofa, beer bottle in hand. ”No Ayo YOU fuck off,” Tiwa says loudly from the kitchen, bone tired and her tail lashing behind her in anger. “I’m not dealing with this mess when I’ve been up all fucking night, do you hear me? I’m not your mother, I’m your girlfriend and I need your help. We’re barely getting by, for fuck sake. Just… try to be responsible for once in your miserable life. Please.” ”Jesus fucking christ Candy, get a grip,” Ayoola snorts nonchalantly, rolling over so that his face is pressed into the cushions of the couch, “I’ll do the dishes and get the brat his breakfast, alright? Will that shut you up?” Tears in his eyes, Azizi shuffles off back to his bedroom and curls up on the small mattress laid on the floor of his tiny bedroom, pulling the blanket over his head. The shouting continues but it’s muffled through his hands over his ears and, after a little while, he falls back asleep.

-----------------

“It was really annoying,” he scoffs, “How they’d fight over just about everything. It was like they couldn’t help themselves. No matter how small the affront they would manage to find a way to turn it into something more.”

He’s getting off track. Blinking away the memory like it’s nothing, Azizi drinks deeply from his glass and marches forward. “Anyway,” he mutters, taking another small sip, “I was, hm, about eight or nine years old when my mother up and left. I can’t blame her, really. My father was a bum and an addict who brought other men and women home when she wasn’t around. More than once she walked in on him cheating on her and I guess that plus his allergy to contributing anything to the ‘family’ was enough to put the final nail in the coffin. We all have our breaking point.”

-----------------

”Where’s mama?” Azizi asks, tugging lightly on his father’s pant leg. It’s midday and she hasn’t come home yet. Ayoola is passed out on the couch, his dirty hair sticking up in different directions, spit and booze drying in a crust at the corners of his mouth. He doesn’t respond right away. It takes Azizi asking the same question a few times before he’s finally roused awake. ”Huh?” he mumbles, cracking an eye open, “Oh. That.” Ayoola doesn’t seem particularly worried about Tiwa’s absence, just slightly annoyed to have been woken up. ”She left,” he sneers, grunting with effort as he pushes himself up and grabs a crumpled piece of paper that had been wadded up underneath him. “Don’t worry, she’ll come crawling back eventually. Until then how about you go play or something. Daddy is trying to sleep off a cold.”

It would only be a couple more years before Azizi would realize that these frequent ‘colds’ were actually hangovers of varying degrees. A week turns into a month, a few months turn into a year and Tiwa still hasn’t come back. Around the six month mark was when Azizi realized he would never see his mother again. In another three months he would grow angry and resentful, pounding his little fists into the floor because she left him behind. She left him alone with HIM. ”That selfish bitch!” Ayo yells, putting another hole in the wall with his fist, blood seeping from between his fingers, “Leaving me to take care of you by my fucking self! How the hell am I supposed to do that, huh?! Tell me how! Where’s the money going to come from?! I’m sinking here! Do you know how many people I owe money to?” Azizi sobs into his hands, tiny body curled up into a ball on the sofa as his father paces back and forth like a caged animal, ranting like a lunatic at the top of his lungs. ”I… I don’t know!” Azizi cries, far too young to understand all of the things his father is saying, “I’m sorry dad! I’m sorry!” -------------------

“After Candy split the house chores fell to me,” Azizi murmurs darkly, setting his drink down to reach for another cigarette instead, “The cooking, cleaning… Him. Ayoola was a full time job. I can’t begin to tell you how many times I had to clean him up after a blackout. Put him on his side and make sure he wouldn’t throw up and drown in his own vomit.”

Azizi pauses, takes a drag from his cigarette and sighs.

“He drank and shot up so much that the floor was littered all over with the aftermath,” Azizi chuckles bitterly, “I’d have to wade through the filth being careful not to stab myself with a used needle, turn him over and check his pulse. Clean the puke off of him with a rag and then pick it all up.”

Gogo sniffles, rubbing his eyes dry on the back of his hand. It’s at this point that he wants to interrupt, to tell Azizi that he doesn’t have to go on if he doesn’t want to. But as if reading his mind, Azizi looks over at him and smiles sadly. 

“It’s okay, Gogo,” he says as soothingly as he can manage, “I’m fine.”

Another pause as he tries to collect his thoughts, memories he wishes didn’t belong to him. “As I got older we started to fight more and more,” Azizi murmurs, “At that point I really had replaced my mother in almost every way.”

----------------

”Zi! That you?”

”Yeah, it’s me dad,” Azizi replies a little flippantly, “Who the fuck else would it be? One of your booty calls?”

Ayoola snorts with laughter, looking up at him as he walks into the room with bloodshot eyes. ”Have I ever told you that you look like your mother?”

Azizi rolls his eyes, arms crossed over his chest as he leans in the doorway.

”Yeah,” he answers flatly, “Like, fifty times this week.” Ayoola nods sadly, head rolling to the side as he closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep again. Frowning, Azizi goes to his room.

----------------

I won’t cry, Azizi thinks, he doesn’t deserve my tears. “Eventually I ran away,” he informs them, unable to bring himself to give them the gorier details of his life, “And I went out with a bang.” Chuckling softly at his own wording, Azizi brings the glass to his lips again. “That makes it sound like I shot him dead,” he hums, “Sadly, I didn’t. We got into a fight, another bad one where he didn’t just use his words to berate me but his fists. I shoved him backwards, he shoved me harder, I slapped him, and he told me to get the fuck out of his house- I happily obliged.”

----------------

”You!” Ayoola screams, following Azizi around the house as he does his best to get away from him, “Where do you think you’re going?! I’m talking to you! Where the fuck were you?! You knew you had a client coming over! You knew and you went out anyway- hey!” His hand lashes out violently, grabbing Azizi by the arm and yanking him back. ”I’m not playing with you Zi!” Ayoola says, spittle flying and his teeth grinding together as he gets up in Azizi’s face, “You’re in big fucking trouble. If you’re going to live under this roof-” ”I don’t want to live under this roof!” Azizi screams back, slapping Ayoola in the face in an attempt to get him to let go, “I want to be as far away from you as humanly possible! You’re a fucking monster!” Ayoola doesn’t hesitate to backhand him, the force of it throwing Azizi to the floor where he sits shocked and rubbing tenderly at his freshly bruised cheek. ”Then get the fuck out!” he shouts, jabbing a finger in Azizi’s face as he looms over him, “Leave! Just like your mother did! I’ve taken care of us for how long and you’re acting out like this because I ask you to do your part?! All you have to do is put out! Easiest fucking job on the planet!” Azizi stares at him, dead behind the eyes as he’s yanked back up onto his feet and shoved hard against the kitchen wall, a hand around his throat. ”You hearin’ me? Answer me-” Azizi screams, shoving his father back so hard that he trips over his own feet and falls backwards. ”Fuck you! Fuck you! Fuck you!” he wails, shoving past Ayoola and out the front door. Ayoola gives chase, pausing in the open doorway to yell after him. ”Then go! Die on the street for all I care!”

He does not follow.

-------------------

“To make an already long story short,” he says, glancing over at Gustav and then quickly averting his eyes, “I spent a long time, years, on the street just like Gogo. I did what I knew how to do best. Eventually I ran into Chaka.”

At the mere mention of his name his blood runs cold, the events of his sad life replaying all over again. He handles it though, shoving it deep deep down inside himself where it belongs. “He took me in off the streets you know. Well, for the most part anyway,” he admits, “There were plenty of times he’d leave me on a corner. To teach me a lesson, he’d say. I mean, I do have a reckless mouth so is that any surprise to you guys?” He laughs humorlessly, eyes finding Gogo’s. “But I met Gogo because of that,” he adds very fondly, “So hey. Silver-linings.” Sighing deeply, Azizi downs the rest of his drink in one go.

“I’ll save the stuff with Chaka for another time,” he murmurs, “If I go into that right now we’ll be here all night. Needless to say I didn’t go down the best path after leaving that hellhole, but if I’m being honest I don’t regret it. Dealing with Chaka’s bullshit was a hell of a lot better than dealing with my old man’s.” Despite his best efforts there’s a wet shine to his eyes now, but the tears don’t fall. Not even when the memories are threatening to choke the air out of his lungs. “So, that’s part one of my story,” he says faux cheerfully, “Now you know I come from trash. Do with it what you will.”

End.

[almostkoo]

Destiny | Park Jimin

pairings: park jimin x oc

summary: having a green thumb is a blessing that you didn’t seem to have, the working theory was that plants hated you and tending to your aunts garden seemed to prove that but maybe the handsome young man that keeps finding his way into your aunts garden can help you whip it back into shape

word count: 2.9k

warnings: unedited, language (of course )

author’s notes: it’s another portion of my spooktober story collection, i was kinda of excited to write this one but still and yet very nervous as always i hope you all enjoy it :)

You trudged on your worn out boots ,letting out a sigh you ran back your plan you set up for your day. Weeding out the garden, checking on the hydrangeas, and planting the tomatoes. You thought back those three things over and over again. Feeling like you were forgetting something. 

Over the few weeks you had been watching over the garden, your aunt's garden to be exact it seemed like everything managed to go straight to shit. Your aunt had fallen sick and with you two being each other’s only remaining family you went back to her house to watch over her until she got better and watching over her meant her house also… and the garden. It just seemed as though the soil underneath you hated you. Trying everything you could find on the internet, talking and singing to the plants, using special growing techniques and tools that promised growth, but nothing happened. When your aunt finally gets better and sees that her beloved garden had just about washed down the drain you didn’t know how she was gonna react.

You had to figure out something and figure it out fast.

Resting back on your knees you wiped away at the sweat above your brow. Something was wrong with the hydrangeas, something new that you couldn’t exactly place what it was. Or even where to begin attempting to figure out the problem at hand. Letting out a breath in frustration you chucked the small gardening shovel out of your hands. 

“Fuck!” you shouted, shaking your head. You dropped your head, when you heard a small “ow”. You looked up and you were faced with one of the most beautiful men you had laid eyes on. You jumped up to your feet quickly, you realized the man that seemed to have a glow around him (most likely from the sun) was a few inches taller than you, soft brown eyes met your own and a cute button nose and plush full lips curved around his smile. He was a slender young man dressed in all white, the dirt from the shovel you threw caused a small brown scuff mark to appear on the toe of his fresh white shoes.

“I am so sorry I didn’t mean to hit you at all. I didn’t even know you were standing there.” you quickly apologized. The man threw his hands up, causing you to pause your rambling. 

“It’s okay.” his voice came out smooth and deep. “It’s nothing that can’t wash away with a little bit of soap and water.”

“I just..I didn’t see you there. I’m getting so frustrated with these flowers and this garden I just don’t know what to do.” you rambled, dropping your hands down to your sides. The man took a step closer to you, tilting his head to the side examining the purple hydrangeas that seemed to wither further the way you stared at them. 

“I’m sorry how rude of me I didn’t even introduce myself. I’m Jimin, I live next door. I’ve never seen you around here before.” he stated. 

“Oh I’m just here watching over my aunt while she’s on bedrest. I have to take care of the house” you threw your hands up gesturing to the various plants that surrounded you two. “and subsequently the garden too. I’m convinced the flowers saw me coming and just decided to die on the spot just to do something different besides growing nice and pretty for my aunt.” Jimin let out a cute laugh, eyes crinkling up into crescents.

“You seem very frustrated as if the shovel against my foot wasn’t enough indicator.” Jimin said.

“I just” you sighed. “I have no clue what I’m doing and my aunt loves this garden so much that I just don't want to let  it fall apart in her absence but I’ve tried everything to get this garden together.” Venting your frustrations to this stranger, Jimin came easy and made you feel better in the process. But still and yet the garden itself was a hot mess. You loved a challenge but hated feeling incompetent. Tending to the garden made you feel dumb as a rock. As if the garden was trying to communicate to you but you both were speaking two completely different languages.

“Well I have a garden of my own that I tend to and I think it’s coming along pretty well. I usually come over and sit with your aunt while she works around here. We have many of the same plants too. I can help you if you want.”Jimin offered, smiling again. You thought about it briefly. Your aunt hadn’t mentioned Jimin to you before and she normally told you all of her daily happenings and people she ran into. But Jimin seemed to have an air of comfort around him, maybe he knew what he was talking about.

“Sure, but my phone is in my pocket so no funny business or I’ll call the cops.” you stated sternly pointing a finger in Jimin’s direction.  He smiled, kneeling down in the dirt in front of the hydrangea. He didn’t seem to care about his white slacks getting dirty. You watched as he examined the tools and Miracle Gro you had sitting out and then the flower. He held one of the flowers from the bush in his hands, softly rubbing his thumbs over the petals. Jimin seemed to be talking to himself as he looked the flowers over. He picked up a handful of soil, leaning in and spreading it around the bottom of the bush. Then reaching for the watering can, sprinkled water over the top. Then back to the soil at the bottom and patting it down, he sang as quietly as he seemed he could. He stood up dusting his hands clean of the soil.

“All done!” he exclaimed. You made a face of disbelief at him. 

“That’s it? That’s all you’re gonna do? Really?” you put your hands on your hips.

“Didn’t you just see all that? The hydrangea is gonna prosper and grow now.” Jimin pouted.

“You didn’t do anything more than I did!” you shouted.

“Well you just wait. Give it a few hours and when you come out here in the morning, you’re gonna see all of what I did. I just have a certain touch and a language that speaks to the plants.” Jimin said.

“Jimin, I’m not gonna lie to you this seems like a crock of bullshit in all honesty.” Jimin’s lips parted.

“Alright, I see. I’ll be back in the morning. If nothing happens then nothing happens. But if my methods worked. I want a glass of iced tea.” he stated.

“A glass of iced tea?” you asked, cocking up an eyebrow. Jimin made a face as if he was thinking

“You know what?” he snapped his fingers. You waved your hand signaling for him to continue. “I want it sweetened. Extra sweet, with sugar cubes on the side. Maybe a lemon if I’m feeling a little zesty.” he said, turning to walk away. 

“I mean it,” he called over his shoulder. “I’ll be back tomorrow.” You looked down at the hydrangea that remained in the same screwed up condition you found it in this morning. The nerve of that guy. Never trust a stranger, you thought to yourself, returning to examine the floral bush in front of you.

The next morning when you woke up, repeating the same routine you had been settled in for the past few weeks. You trudged out to the garden again completely ready to accept defeat against the flowers and various vegetables in the garden. Morning sun beaming down at you, forcing you to pull your floppy hat down further. Walking up to the hydrangea bush your lips parted in shock. The bush that was there yesterday, browning and withering instead, was lively, the purples and whites bright. You knelt down on hands and knees staring at the bush as if you were attempting to find a hidden camera of some sorts. 

“What the fuck?” you mumbled under your breath.

“Well I see it worked.” immediately recognizing the voice from behind you belonging to Jimin. You hopped up, dusting off your overalls. Jimin stood cocking his head to the side with a slight smile on his face. The outfit he wore was different than yesterday, all blue instead of all white he wore a soft baby blue, his brown hair framing his face perfectly, parted down the middle. 

“I.. I don’t know how you did it, this is crazy. What’s your secret?” you asked. Jimin threw his head back, shoulders shaking from his laughter. 

“I can’t do that. There’s no way to.” Jimin smiled. You felt your brows furrow in. A look of confusion was probably making itself home on your features at this point. 

“What do you mean? You literally didn’t do anything I didn’t do.”  you sighed. 

“That’s what it seemed like?” Jimin feigned like he was thinking. You shoved him playfully. 

“I guess I owe you some iced tea.”

“With the sugar cubes on the side please.”

You and Jimin returned to your aunts back porch looking over the garden placed in the far left corner of her vast backyard. He sipped on his iced tea that turned into sweet tea after he dumped half the container of sugar cubes in it. Taking his first sip inside at the kitchen counter, relaxing into a closed eyed smile. While your face turned up in disgust at the sight. 

“So what are you?” you questioned, breaking the silence. Jimin choked on his sweet tea, spluttering and ending with a cough. 

“What are you talking about?” Jimin squeaked. 

“You must be a botanist or something. Right?” you asked, confused about Jimin’s reaction. He hesitated before answering, as if the cogs were turning in his head he snapped his fingers.

“Right! Sorry about that, the tea went down the wrong pipe. I own a flower shop with my best friend. I just love plants so much. They’re so easy to maintain and care for. It’s so easy to pour love into them and reap the benefits of it. It’s the best way to physically see love you know?” Jimin smiled yet again. His smile was pretty, it seemed to make him glow, you almost felt like you were being spoiled by getting to see him smile so much. 

“I get it. Plants seem to hate me, but I remember once when I was a child my aunt took me to these botanical gardens and the flowers were just so beautiful. I wish I had a green thumb like she did. I feel like it would better my appreciation for them.”

Jimin scoffed, placing his glass down on the bannister. “The plants don't hate you. Look I know this may sound crazy but plants sometimes can be selective to who they bloom for. You have to be able to understand them and them understand you. It’s a hard language to speak, but everyone has to learn it. You have to have a certain touch” he reached out gently grabbing your hand that was resting at your side. “You have to have the correct amount of gentleness and a subtle warmth to your hands. It’s having a good balance of peace and harmony. They have to feel that.” You looked down at your intertwined hands, a slow heat creeping up on you as you looked up catching Jimin’s glance. Your phone started ringing loudly from your pocket. Jimin broke his hand away from yours first as you stammered trying to reach for your phone. Your aunt was calling you, asking you if you could bring her a snack. 

“I’m sorry” you apologized to Jimin. “I have to go real quick, my aunt wants me to get her something. I’ll be right back if you can wait.” Jimin threw his hands up, waving them. 

“That’s alright. I have something I want to give to you. I’ll be back this evening with it.”

“Is it a diamond?” you joked. Jimin looked at you confused. “It must be a big diamond.”

“I can assure you it’s not a diamond. But something worth that if not more.” he grinned. 

“Well now I don’t know what to expect but it must be something grand. My hopes are up now, Jimin. Just so you know.”

Instead of it being later that day Jimin ended up returning a week later, with you seeing him but without him returning with whatever it was he wanted to give. With a wheelbarrow in tow hauling a small tree in the soil. You stopped the rocking chair you sat in, jumping up out of it you ran over to Jimin, who had pulled the wheelbarrow into the right corner of the backyard. 

“What is that?” you asked, walking around the wheelbarrow. 

“A cherry blossom tree. I just loved them so much, I had to give you one from my shop.” he stated. 

“Jimin a cherry blossom tree can’t grow here. You have to do so much work before planting them. I thought you would’ve known that. It’s gonna die.” you said with a frown.

“It’s not. I promise it won’t. Don’t worry you’ll see.” he smiled. You glanced at Jimin feeling worried. The garden had seemed to start coming back to life with Jimin’s help but the tree? Far away from the soil of the garden had you feeling anxious. You didn’t want your aunt to see the tree failing either.

“Cherry blossoms take forever to grow.” you pouted. Jimin walked over to you wrapping himself around you from behind, rocking back and forth.

“Y/n” he said in a sing-songy voice. “I said don’t worry.” You could hear the smile in his voice, it felt contagious you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling.

“What are you gonna do? Work some more of your Jimin magic?”

“Something like that.”

You sat back and watched Jimin plant the tree. Moving slowly with patience. Every so often he would hum a tune or sing a little bit as he worked until he was finished.

“So that’s it?” you asked as Jimin stepped back to look at the small two foot tree in the ground.

“That’s it!” he clapped. You looked at the tree sideways, then up at Jimin who had his arms outwards pointing at the tree, the glow that settled around him seemed a little brighter than the last time you saw him.

“I-“ you hesitated. “you’re very odd. You come around here with your crispy clean monochromatic outfits and glowing skin and gardening secrets. I don’t get you and I don’t think I will.” you sighed. Jimin looked at you searching your face for any trace of emotion. Then you broke out in a big smile that he returned.

“Actually I have a confession to make.” Jimin admitted with a drop of his shoulders.

“What’s wrong?” you perked up, sitting up straight.

“I’m gonna be going back.. into the city permanently. This might be the last time I see you. That’s why I wanted to gift you the cherry blossom tree.”

Your lips parted into a “o” shape. “You’re leaving?”

“Business is booming and Taehyung can’t handle it all alone.” Jimin spoke as if his words were rehearsed, coming off a little flat. “the tree will always give you something to remember me by.”

“Jimin” you scoffed. “if you’re just going to the city this shouldn’t be goodbye. We can visit one another and you can give me more introspective gardening tips.” Jimin shook his head.

“It’s much deeper than that. It’s far too much to explain. I’m sorry.” he said. You looked into his eyes and they seemed glassy almost as if he was gonna cry. You didn’t understand why Jimin didn’t want to visit you anymore. The city was only a 45 min drive away. It didn’t have to be permanent.

“I- Well- Maybe-“ you stammered. “I guess, Jimin. If you say so. Never say never our paths can intertwine again.” you smiled. Jimin gave you a solemn smile, before looking back to the tree.

The next morning after Jimin’s departure you woke early that morning, like there was something tugging you out of your deep sleep. You groggily headed down to the kitchen preparing your coffee. You glanced out the window briefly, something huge and pink doing a double take you looked harder out the window squinting at the sight of the cherry blossom tree Jimin planted the evening before. It now stood tall and huge, blossoms covering every branch as if it had been there for years. You ran outside to the tree, running your hands along the bark as you walked all around it. It just didn’t make any sense. It was actually quite impossible that the tree grew that rapid overnight. You were shocked, no proper thoughts coming to mind to wrap your mind around the tree. How was you gonna explain this to your aunt? You stood back from the tree before noticing a folded sheet of paper at the base. Bending over you picked it up unfolding it.

“Hopefully destiny will cross our paths again

-Jimin”

[tekka-dan]

How I managed to play the fuck out of my boss and shitty job with a twinge of salt:

Basically here’s what happened: I got my second formal write up for blamings the company needed to pin on somebody. And who else to chose other than the hardest working employee whose never complained, called in or made a fuss about anything?

With that being the case I raised my voice in that meeting to make sure the witness heard my grievances with my manager as well. When she started taking notes, so did I.

I’m not about to be bitten and not bite back. I’ll do it with class though.

First and foremost let me break down what my job / title is.

I am receptionist. I answer the phones, I schedule appoints, I manage co workers, clients and doctors all while dealing with emails, a digital work list, checking in and out patients, filling prescriptions and other duties that apply.

That’s not a lot but for some people it is. I love being productive and I love showing I’m a reliable and capable worker, with rarely anyone complaints.

My managers first grievance with me:

1. I answer the phone too quickly.

My rebuttal to this to her [and the witness] was:

“I understand that it’s within my job duty to answer the phone timely and efficiently, as that’s apart of my daily routine and I do it consistently.”

Her response was:

“It’s just that you don’t give your co workers the chance to step up. Perhaps if you stop answering the phone, you could do your other duties better.”

My response:

“You’re right. The times which your pointed out I’ve made mistakes I can tell you when they happen. When I work with [co workers name] I notice they aren’t as efficient and aren’t willing to do tasks as quickly as me. So this means when doctors come to us with orders and they approach her and she turns them away, they basically have no one else to come to except me, the only other person on the floor. And I’m also busy. However I take what they give me as priority because that’s also apart of my duties and in turn I have to sideline my other duties.”

Notice how I didn’t blame shift. My manager gave me a grievance and an issue to which I explained why those issues happen and how she could step up as manager to fix them. Instead she says this:

“You could always talk to that person who you’re finding it difficult to work with.”

My manager whose entire job is to manage just told me basically deal with my issues of another person on my own.

2. She pins the blame of something on me that had nothing to do with me.

A client communicated he was going to drop off a stool sample at a certain time. I recorded that in the file and informed my co workers. I had an early leave this day so I made sure the others knew. The client did proceed to come in after my departure and left the sample. I come in the next day and the blame falls onto me why the client was never notified about the results and why the cost of the sample wasn’t collected at drop off.

My manager:

“We noticed that you documented [clients name] was going to drop off at a certain time and to collect payment. However he was never told the results of the sample and payment was never collected. Why is that?”

My response was:

“So you’re telling me it’s my fault the results were relayed to the owner and the payment wasn’t collected at the time of drop off when I wasn’t here?”

My manager:

“I’m just trying to follow up on who dropped the ball and the starting person was you.”

My response:

“I fail to understand my fault here. I need more understanding otherwise this sounds like you’re just trying to pin the blame on me. Is there anything else you have a complaint about?”

So the resolve of that matter was basically bevause the other co worker was off that day, it needed to be put on someone and that someone needed to be me. Despite the fact I was literally not physically present when the aftermath happened and it was still something they tried blaming me for.

3. My manager told me I filled a medication wrong and at check out the client was angry about it.

So apart of my duties is filling medications and preventions for dogs and cats daily. I do this while doing other tasks too. Sometimes things get a little flustered but I try keeping my cool during these times.

A client requested a refill on her dogs prevention through email. I got the request, noticed in our system the dog was 9.8lbs. So I filled the prevention for 0-10lbs because that’s where he’s classified. I then notified the owner back through email what size and how many I pulled aside for her pet.

I wasn’t present when she picked it up but my manager was. Apparently the woman wanted the 10lbs+ range and she was aggravated she did not have it.

My manger to me:

“So you filled the prescription wrong because her pet was 9.8lbs and you filled up to 10lbs when she wanted the 10lb and over.”

My response:

“Are you telling me that because I filled a prescription for a pet in our system for the appropriate weight range, but the owner wanting the higher dose at check out without previous knowledge, that I filled it wrong? That I didn’t follow protocol? Please help me understand that.”

My manager:

“Yes. The owner requested the higher dose at check out and because you filled the size she didn’t want, it was wrong.”

My response:

“Where was it notated that we still the higher dose for her? Where could I have found that information?”

My manager:

“Well it was only at check out, so I’m not sure if I can answer your question properly.”

At this point the witness said nothing and the witness isn’t anyone I even work directly with so it’s not like she could back me up or say anything substantial. At this point however I realized what this was and I retained my sense of ease and just sighed heavily as she went over correction coaching with me.

I signed the papers but it’s taking every ounce in me to not have dishes her my two weeks right then and there.

Why? Because I need this job while I await my approval for an apartment. I need to not let my emotions take over.

However, I didn’t leave without giving her a peace of my mind.

Me to my manager:

“Can I offer some constructive feed back?”

Manager:

“Sure.”

My last retort:

“I just think it’s funny how you only ever have a problem with me. These same things you’ve gone over with me here I have seen the others make the same mistakes and never once have they been corrected or reprimanded. In fact this write up is my second one for mistakes that weren’t my fault and I recall the first being the same way. Now I’m going to add some tips for you: you’re accusing a great and solid worker of things that make blatantly no sense and when I give you rebuttals you offer no reprieve about how YOU as a manager are going to handle it, instead all you do is shift blame. You asked me how are these things going to be fixed and where the issue was and I told you and you offered no evidence you’re going to make sure I succeed in my position any further. I understand why we are here today but I’m not going to sign these papers. In fact I’m going to ponder if I want to continue having a future with this company on my own time. Until you can follow up with actions to help me succeed then I’m afraid my two weeks is effective immediately. Also, I’ll be writing a review for your manager to follow up on your duties that you’ve severely lacked in since I’ve started here May 8th, 2020. I hope you have a great rest of your day, I’ll return on Friday with hopefully some follow up answers.”

Anyway I am searching for a new job but I hate that they made me feel like total shit at this one and I don’t deserve that treatment.

I also wholeheartedly believe it’s race induced considering I’m the only black worker and I’m the only one she has issues with. She raises her voice with me, says things in a demeaning or condescending way and I was raised to basically not act of character and so my response was always “Alright, I’ll make sure to work on that for next time. Thanks for the insight.” And she would get hella angry about that.

Like bitch you’re coming at me sideways and I handle it with grace and it makes you mad? Go kick rocks.

Anyway I wanted to vent. Now I’m going to take a walk, apply for new jobs and check in on the apartment status. I still have a life to live and losing shit job won’t stop me from living it.

[intimidating-fettuccine]

For the Sake of Science

I hope you enjoy this, because I am incredibly proud of it and I think it’s my favorite work. Under the cut for length.

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My parents were very interesting people. They had odd quirks and a habit of avoiding social situations, as their beliefs had made them outcasts amongst their community. My parents both claimed to be pursuing science for the sake of advancing society, but that couldn't be further from the truth at the root of it. They just wanted to test the limits of their "science", and I happened to be the perfect guinea pig for them.

My father was a surgeon in his day to day life, and my mother had been a chemist before she was abruptly fired one day for making propositions to her coworkers that were most definitely not in the job description. She had proposed that they begin experimenting on humans with various chemical combinations to try and alter the human species to a more evolved state, a "perfect" state, as she called it. She had threatened them when they called her insane, and she was fired for misconduct. My father seemed to agree with her ideals, and soon they began trying for a child, a child that they would make the perfect human being, and that child was me.

I don't remember much from my early years. It wasn't until about the age of five that things began to take a turn for the worst in my miserable excuse for a life. I remember that I was constantly getting sick, and I didn't know why. My parents never took me to the doctor and tried to nurse me back to health at home, and it wasn't until I had overheard my parents speaking one night that I learned that they had been poisoning my food. When I stopped eating any food they would give me, they began to take different measures to run their tests.

When I was eight, they renovated the basement in our house. What was once an empty bland storage room was now a medical lab that would soon become a living hell for me for many years to come. One day my mother led me down into the basement, telling me she was going to give me a physical checkup, something she told me was normal for every child to go through. I very quickly learned this to be incorrect. Once I was in the basement, she led me over to a medical be and had me hop up onto it, and before I was aware of what was happening, she and my father had held me down and restrained me to the bed.

My mother then proceeded to pull out some chemical blend that she had filled a syringe with, and she injected me with it at small amounts at a time. She claimed she was giving me a medicine that would make me better, but in reality, she was drugging me, and she continued to do so for many years. She would restrain me and test out new concoctions, and if the results proved to be unproductive she would start back at square one and begin all over again, never asking me if I wanted it, or how I felt other than if it was making me feel stronger, or more attractive, or more intelligent, to which I always answered no.

I learned quickly to not cry out when I would protest, when I would cry, scream out for help, yank on my restraints or try to bite them. My mother had a temper, and my father seemed to have no emotional attachments to me, so he would let her do as he pleased. She would get angry with me because perfect people weren't supposed to cry and refuse treatment. She would often beat me when I wouldn't listen to her when she was feeling kind. If she wasn't she would inject particularly painful substances or make me swallow them. Other times she would tie me up and whip me until her arm was tired or she was bored.

I hated my mother, but I would take her chemical injections over my father's specialty any day. My father was a surgeon, studied long and hard for it, but he, like my mother, wanted to take his chosen study further than moral decisions would allow him. He often did vivisections of me, sometimes alone, sometimes with my mother. Maybe I wouldn't have minded him poking around in my body so much if it wasn't for the fact that I was awake and had no numbing agents used on me to prevent pain. I would just have to sit there and bear with it as he stabbed and sliced and poked around inside me while I tried not to cry out or squirm in discomfort.

Sometimes my mother enjoyed injecting her drugs directly into specific organs, which resulted in multiple organs failing in my body, and me growing even weaker and even sicker. Of course, once they crossed the threshold of human experimentation they had no issues dealing in the black market, and they were able to procure me new organs whenever I needed them. After all, they would spare no expense in their delirious pursuit of perfection. Thankfully my father stopped cutting me open eventually, although it was only due to the fact that my skin stopped healing back as fast. I was fragile, and my skin would just peel right off in some places. Whenever I showered, which I was made to do quite often, I could no longer use regular loofas or sponges because they would tear my skin right off. Such is the expected result of being drugged on a daily basis.

These issues caused my skin to not only be sensitive but look and smell bad. Nobody wished to be friends with someone so visibly dying. A few of my teachers were quite concerned and tried to get involved and help me, but they all of a sudden stopped, most likely to my parents stepping in. They would ignore me and pretend I wasn't there unless they were passing back a paper or something else of the sort. The other students I went to school with weren't as forgiving. They would pick on me, some teasing and some spitting out harsh and cruel words about my appearance, my scent, my demeanor.

I didn't complain when they mocked me and called me horrible things. I didn't complain when they swapped out my food for stale, gross replacements. I didn't complain when they soaked me in water, or when one boy decided to piss all over me while I used the bathroom because as he claimed, I already smelled like shit anyways. I didn't say anything when they'd hit me like my mother would because I was already used to the pain. Some of them got bored because I wouldn't react, and some of them continued because they used me as a way for them to vent out their stupid bullshit frustrations. One particularly nasty bitch ended up calling me "Freakshow" one day, and the name quickly spread and stuck. I would be known as Freakshow for the rest of my academic career, and I ended up keeping in the afterlife, because why the fuck not, ya know? Nobody gives a damn anyway.

My mother seemed to become more and more distressed at my horrific state of appearance. Perfect people weren't supposed to be rotting corpses, they were supposed to be angelic and beautiful. Well, let me tell you, I was not nor have I ever been angelic and beautiful, and her worried distress only caused me to go even further from that state as she would pump me full of even more chemicals to try and reverse the effects of her years of misdeeds. When she realized that wasn't working, she stopped. She quit her injections and studies and tests and I thought for once in my life maybe she'd come to her senses. What a horseshit dream that was. Turns out she was trying to have me go through a sort of rehab, to try and get my body back to what a normal human was supposed to look like. When my body got back to a semi-normal state, she plunged right back into her experiments.

Now, I never gave a rat's ass about anything in life. I had nothing to live for, nobody to care about, no interests of any kind. It wasn't until I met Jackson that I seemed to change that thought. You see, Jackson accepted me, made me feel loved, and never judged me for any of my weird qualities. He gave me something to live for, something to hope for, something to smile about. I began dating him in secret behind my parent's backs, and he did a whole lot to increase my mental state. He got me addicted, addicted to living that is. Trying new things, having a fun time, living life. Dopamine and serotonin are two pretty addictive drugs, let me tell ya, and once I was used to feeling them, I couldn't get enough of it. When I was with Jackson I wasn't Freakshow, I wasn't Dexter. I was Dex. I was alive. I was his.

When I was with Jackson, I thought that nothing could go wrong, that maybe I could escape my parent's grasp. I couldn't have been more wrong. My parents ended up somehow finding out about Jackson around the time I'd turned 19, and unbeknownst to me, they kidnapped him and tortured him for several hours when I was out of the house one day. When I returned home, my father who had been waiting for me quickly grabbed me and dragged me downstairs to the basement to show me their handiwork. Jackson was gagged, naked, tied up to the wall, and mutilated beyond repair. He was barely hanging on, and when he saw me he was choking out, trying to say my name, to say anything. Well, my mom ended up killing him right then and there, right before my eyes. She claimed it was for the sake of science, as she howled in laughter. Well, let me tell you I had never felt such emotions raging up inside me as I did at that moment.

I went absolutely batshit crazy, and it's not something I'm proud of. I went apeshit and lost it on them, screaming at the top of my lungs as I went through catharsis, releasing all my pent up emotions over the years. They tried to calm me down with my mother's bullshit excuse of a homemade anesthetic and ended up killing me. So what do they do? Maybe cry, feel bad, repent for their mistakes? Nope. They dump my ass in the backyard and act like nothing ever happened. Of course, by some ungodly happening, I ended up waking back up. Except, I didn't feel like me. I felt goddamn amazing. I couldn't feel absolutely anything. I felt free. Well, almost completely free.

I made my way up through the dirt in our backyard, and then inside the house where I found my parents discussing adoption, of all things, planning on taking in another child for this. Well, I strolled right up to them, and ya know what I did? I bashed them right over the head with the very shovel they buried me with. Let me tell ya, the most fun I've ever had in my life was drugging and torturing them the same way they had done to me. They were crying, weeping, begging me for forgiveness by the time they woke up. Asking me to forgive them, to let them make it up to me. When they realized I wouldn't change my mind they changed their tune, screaming out that I was a disgrace, a zombified monster, a disgusting creature that would never know love. I had lots of fun that night, and I did it all for the sake of science.