#i mean shit even high school calculus is barely like a lot of 'real' math. you gotta Understand calculus. you need the Context

[hxrpooner]

people on this webbed site, and honestly non math people in general, seem to completely devalue math as a field and it makes me so sad. guys i promise not all math is high school trigonometry. please don't run away. i promise i'm not going to make you calculate the height of a ferris wheel. let's draw a truth table together. i can show you the world. shining shimmering splendid

[hotpinkhoshi]

the pact (5)

pairing: jinyoung x reader

genre: romance, smut, a lil angst

warnings: explicit sex, cursing, unprotected sex, dirty talk, some secondhand embarrassment

word count: 6.8k

summary: you desperately need to get over your decade-long crush on lim jaebeom, and your close friend jinyoung needs to get over his ex—so the two of you make an arrangement: just sex, no feelings. what could go wrong?

a/n: hi loves! thank you as always for your kind and supportive messages regarding the last part! if you didn’t see my post, you can now track the tag #thepactfic in order to keep up with updates and future parts. that being said, i’ve officially decided the story will be a total of 6 parts. one more full part after this! please let me know how you’re liking it and if you have any thoughts, feelings, questions etc don’t be afraid to shoot me a message  ❤️

↳ index here

“I gotta be honest,” Jaebeom said, fingers tapping against the cafe table. “I was surprised to hear from you.” 

“Yeah,” you began, folding your hands on your lap and offering him a kind smile. “I- well, I wanted to apologize for leaving you hanging that night at the club…”

Even though he’d done it to you plenty of times. Texted you, asking what you were up to, until inevitably, he stopped responding a few messages in. Danced with you when you came to one of his DJing gigs only to leave with someone else. Even today, he’d shown up ten minutes late. It was about time somebody did the same to him. Still, you couldn’t help your conscience. 

Jaebeom shrugged. “That’s alright. Although I’m starting to think you’ve been avoiding me.” There was a playfulness to his tone, but you had a feeling it had been a shot to his pride. He wasn’t used to girls standing him up. 

“Maybe… a little. That’s actually why I wanted to meet you today.” 

It had been Sana’s idea, which surprised you both. She’d come home from trivia half an hour later than you the other night, knocking softly on the door to check if you were still awake. 

After a long talk, you finally admitted your feelings for Jinyoung to someone other than yourself. She didn’t reassure you that he felt the same way, because you both knew he probably didn’t. If Jinyoung said he was going to do something, he did it. 

You had no reason to think you were anything more than a friend to him now, with some added bonuses. 

She did say, however, that you needed to talk to Jaebeom. As much as she hated the way he treated you, you needed closure in order to completely close that chapter. You agreed, and here you were. 

You’d picked a very public place during your lunch break from work, just so that you didn’t feel tempted to fall into his trap again. The weird thing was, as he sat in front of you, something had changed. Your feelings for him lingered like an aftertaste, nowhere near as powerful as they had been even a month ago. 

It didn’t compare to the real thing, you realized. 

“I’m sure you know this,” you began, staring down at your fingernails, “but I’ve liked you for a long time. Like, a really long time. Since we were fourteen.”

“I know.” Jaebeom’s words made you finally look up, locking eyes with him. “I mean, you’re a lot of things, Y/N, but subtle is not one of them.” He smiled at you in the way that would’ve normally had your stomach fluttering. “That’s why I was so confused when you started blowing me off.”

“Yeah. I guess I just, I was tired of waiting for you to like me back. Because you never did, right? At least not the way I liked you. So I decided that it was time for me to move on, finally, and now…” you took a deep breath, feeling like you were talking more to yourself than to Jaebeom, “now I think I found someone that I really like. It feels different.” 

You paused to take in Jaebeom’s expression. He wasn’t hurt, but he seemed confused. He had every right to be. He probably thought you were a little bit crazy for sharing all of this, but you needed to get it off of your chest.

“I did like you, Y/N.” 

“You what?” you asked, blinking at him. “When?”

First Jinyoung, now this? You didn’t know how many more confessions you could take. 

Jaebeom shrugged, sipping from his espresso. “In high school. I mean, surely you could tell? I was always asking to borrow a pencil in math class… I figured you didn’t think I was that forgetful.” 

You remembered being tortured in that Calculus class. His seat was diagonally in front of you, allowing you the perfect view to his flawless profile for forty minutes every single day. Whenever he asked you for a pencil, you had to count to ten to stop thinking about his fingers brushing against yours. 

“I didn’t… I didn’t know.” 

“Well,” he said, his lips quirking up. “It’s true. But I liked a lot of girls—it was high school. I was going to ask you out after graduation, before you and Jinyoung went off to university. But Jinyoung flipped on me, telling me not to mess around with you, and not to ask you out unless I wanted it to last forever. Scared the shit out of me. So I backed off.” 

Suddenly your throat was bone dry, and the coffee wasn’t helping. It was a lot to digest, finding that Jaebeom had returned your feelings after all, if only for a few years. You and probably a dozen other girls. Still, you’d never thought you had a chance, especially not back then.

“Did Jinyoung ever talk about me?” you found yourself asking. It wouldn’t do you any good to find out just how deep his feelings for you ran, considering they were probably long gone, but the masochist in you wanted to know. For some reason, you cared more about that than Jaebeom’s former crush. 

Jaebeom barked out a laugh. “Did he? Fuck, he barely ever stopped. He had a thing for you, you know? I mean, he never told me outright, but I could tell. It pissed him off whenever he’d catch me staring down your shirt at lunch and he’d give me the cold shoulder for the next day and a half.”

How oblivious had you been in high school? You’d always been so busy reading and studying, maybe if you’d lifted your nose out of those books you would have noticed. You spent more time with Jinyoung than Jaebeom, but both boys were a part of your daily life. It had all been right under your nose. 

“Is it him?” Jaebeom asked after a moment of your silence. “The guy you like? I saw you leave with him that night, kinda figured maybe he’d finally grown some balls and gone for it with you.” 

“Y-yeah, actually.” You rubbed the back of your neck. That hollowness of your missed opportunity was still heavy in your chest. You missed him so much it hurt. 

Jaebeom nodded, tongue running over his teeth. “Well, good for him. It’s about time.” He didn’t seem jealous or bothered by the idea of you with Jinyoung, which just cemented what you already knew—his feelings were never as intense as yours. 

And whatever he had going on with that girl, the one from his bathroom mirror selfies, you just felt bad for her now. You weren’t jealous, you felt pity. Pity because she was probably a lot like you, expecting more from Jaebeom than he was ready to give. 

There was an unspoken tension between the two of you now, but you felt different… like you’d finally cut off that loose end that had been hanging around you for years. You looked at Jaebeom in front of you, the person you’d convinced yourself you were in love with, and all you could think about was Jinyoung. 

Jinyoung wouldn’t have been late. He would’ve been early, sat in a corner booth with coffee and your favorite blueberry muffin waiting. Maybe he would have teased you for making him wait, but he’d still let you have your muffin with a little convincing. 

You missed him so much. 

But you knew if you were going to get over Jinyoung, you at least needed to be finished with Jaebeom first. It was almost comical the way your timing always seemed to be wrong. Why couldn’t your heart just be on time for once?

“I should go,” you said finally, standing up. “Thanks for the coffee.” 

“No problem.” Jaebeom stood as well, digging in his pocket for cash to leave a tip on the table. “And Y/N?”

You raised your brows. “Yeah?”

“Tell Jinyoungie I said hi, and if he wants to catch up…” Jaebeom ran his fingers through his hair, one of his nervous habits. 

You smiled. “I will. I’ll see you around, okay? Take care of yourself, Jaebeom.” 

Jaebeom, despite everything, was not a bad man. Deep down, he was good, which was what had always made it so hard for you to leave him behind. You’d always think of the time he walked you home from school when your mom got stuck late at work, the summer he worked at the animal rescue shelter, the way he used to snort when he laughed at Jinyoung’s jokes, and a million more fragments of his soul he’d let you see over the years. 

But at the end of the day, he wasn’t the one for you. You’d spent so many years making excuses, covering your eyes when he showed you the parts that didn’t fit with your idea of him, but you were ready to see him as he was now. You hoped someday he would find happiness, love, and satisfaction. It just wouldn’t be with you. 

As you walked out of the cafe and the door clicked behind you, you felt that door in your heart finally slide closed. And it felt good. 

~~~

Three long days later, and Jinyoung was finally home. 

It killed you that you couldn’t see him right away. Right after he got home on Wednesday night, he’d passed out from jet lag and you’d had to work late the next night. His body was still adjusting and he’d gone to bed right about the same time you got home.

Your schedules lined up, at last, by Friday evening. Jinyoung had the rest of the week off after working through the weekend, but his sleep schedule was so backwards that he ended up sleeping through most of your waking hours. He was mostly adjusted by Friday, though, and you rushed over straight after work without even stopping for dinner. 

You’d decided that you needed to end it with Jinyoung. There had been rules, after all, to this pact you’d made. You’d broken one already, and in doing so, you’d broken another—honesty. But you knew you needed to see him one last time. Just for closure. Then you could move on. 

Jinyoung didn’t suspect anything, as far as you knew. You’d held up your promise to send him a picture every day, with varying degrees of naughtiness, and even FaceTimed a few times. The time difference made it difficult but… you’d managed. 

It was nothing compared to how he looked in the flesh, though. When he opened the door, you felt those damn butterflies wake up, low in your stomach. 

He didn’t look as tired as you thought he would. In fact, he looked pretty damn awake to you. 

You barely got inside before he was pushing you against the closed door, crowding you into the barrier with his own body. With his lips pressing into yours, he effectively had you trapped. 

But you didn’t mind. You’d missed this so much it only took you a split second before you wrapped your arms around him, relishing in the heat that came from his body. 

As soon as he parted from your lips, he trailed kisses down your neck to the collar of your work button-up. “Hi,” you breathed, digging your hands into his shoulder blades where you held him. 

“Hi,” he said into your skin, fingers already working at the buttons of your shirt. 

“How was your-“ your words were cut off by a groan as Jinyoung sucked at a particularly sensitive spot on your neck.

Jinyoung's response was a frustrated grunt as he fumbled with the plastic holding your shirt together, and all you could do was gasp when he tore the shirt open, buttons clinking to the floor. 

You stared at him with wide eyes, mouth gaping open. 

“I’ll buy you another one.” 

Without another word, he dove back in to your neck, lips nibbling and sucking at your flesh. You completely forgot about your ruined shirt when he began grinding his hips into yours, his hardness already pressing into your thigh. 

“Missed you… so much…” you whispered, threading your fingers through his hair and inhaling the scent of crisp summer fruit. “You smell so good. Is this shampoo new?”

“Stole some from the hotel,” he replied, punctuated by a bite to your neck that made you shiver. 

“All that…” You slid your hand down his body, fingertips brushing over his belt buckle until you were able to cup your hand over the obvious bulge in his pants, “hard work packing… and you still stole hotel toiletries.”

Jinyoung made a noise deep in his throat, almost a growl as you began massaging your palm against him, his face still buried in your neck. “Don’t tease. I’ve been hard since you said you were coming over.” 

You smirked, running your tongue over your lips. “I’ve been thinking about this since the moment you left, Jinyoung. Trust me, I’m not teasing.” 

Finally, Jinyoung pulled back enough to crush your lips together in a heated, messy kiss. You had missed his taste, the warmth of his mouth colliding with yours, the way he ran his tongue over your lip before he nipped it. 

Your hands quickly undid his belt and zipper, freeing him from his jeans just enough for you to wrap your hand around his member over the fabric of his briefs. He was hard as ever, pulsing slightly in your grip. 

As Jinyoung licked into your mouth, you began a slow pace massaging his cock, fingers following the outline pressed into your hand. You’d barely traced the length of him five times before he was moaning and rutting his hips into your hand. 

“Fuck,” he said, pulling back from your lips but keeping his forehead pressed into yours. 

You squeezed his length once, then twice, and felt Jinyoung’s cock pulse, even through the barrier of cotton. A feeling you usually only felt when he was inside of you. 

“Shit, no, no-“

Jinyoung inhaled sharply, fist coming up to slam into the wall next to your shoulder, trying to pull his hips from the contact of your hand. You barely realized what was happening until you looked at him to find his eyes squeezed shut, jaw slack as an orgasm wracked through him. 

You gulped, your hand slowly falling away once you were sure he’d come down from his high. Though when he opened his eyes, they were filled with regret and shame. 

“God, I’m sorry, I-“ he started, looking down at his crotch, then up at you. “I can’t believe I just…”

“You just came in your pants.”

It took just about everything in you to keep your face straight. He’d never come that fast, at least not with you. Jinyoung dropped his head onto your shoulder with a breathy laugh. 

“I’m so sorry.”

You bit back a giggle, sliding your arms around his waist, fingers sliding up the back of his black tee. “Jinyoung, it’s fine. We have all night, you know.” 

“Let me make it up to you,” he said, deep and low near your ear before he pulled away. His face was flushed from his orgasm, all the way to the tips of his ears. Just from the look in his eyes, you knew he had a plan. 

“Okay… what did you have in mind?” 

Instead of granting you an answer, he slid his hands up the curves of your waist, fingers dragging over the lace of your bra. He kept his eyes on you as he pushed your shirt off of your shoulders, just a useless scrap of fabric now that he’d ripped the buttons off. 

Then he dropped to his knees, fingertips trailing down your skin until they played with the waistband of your pants. You hoped he wouldn’t rip these—they’d been rather expensive. 

He took care with the button and zipper, seemingly reading your mind, then tugged the pants down your thighs to pool at your ankles. He removed one shoe, then the other, so that he could allow you to step out of your bottoms. This left you in just your panties and bra, which of course he’d seen you in before, dozens of times, but he was looking at you like you were brand new to him. 

“Open,” he told you, scooting close until his face was level with your hips. You obeyed easily, earning you a cocky smirk. “Good girl.” 

Your head fell back against the door as you stared down at Jinyoung. He’d gone from bashful and embarrassed to this, heating you from the inside out, all with just his gaze. 

As always, he didn’t give you what you wanted straight away. He brushed his lips over the sensitive skin of your stomach, kissing every curve and line, even those spots you hated to see in the mirror. He’d made you forget all about that, only focused on feeling. 

You shivered as his breath fanned over your skin and goosebumps rose on your arms. His lips traveled down to your thighs, skipping over your center because of course, he needed to keep you on your toes. 

“Jinyoung…” you whined, your hands resting on his shoulders. “Please.”

He looked up, mouth still pressing into your inner thigh, and he smiled. He loved to have you like this, and you couldn’t deny your favorite place to be was wrapped around his finger. 

“Hm.. please what?” he challenged, now teasing the waistband of your panties with his fingers. “What do you want me to do?”

You huffed out a breath. “Jinyoung,“ you complained, “eat me out before I go insane.” 

Jinyoung made you wait only a few more torturous moments before he slid the lacy garment down your thighs to your knees, eyes glued to your center as soon as it was revealed to him. He had the nerve to lick his lips. 

“Pretty,” he muttered, placing his thumbs on either side of your folds to open you up for him. He leaned in, hot breath against your clit just before he latched on.

It wasn’t like you hadn’t touched yourself since he’d been gone—hell, he’d been the one to bring you to orgasm twice thanks to FaceTime—but it wasn’t even in the same league as Jinyoung’s mouth on you. 

One second, you felt like you had all the power, the next, he had you practically melting into the door, grabbing his hair and begging for more. The harder he worked into your clit, the more you arched your hips towards him, desperate and whimpering. 

Jinyoung knew all of your spots and it turned out, he wasn’t the only one that had trouble keeping his orgasm at bay. You felt the familiar waves of heat surging through your body as his tongue flicked back and forth over your clit, a quick and powerful pace that sent you barreling towards your climax. 

You cried out as you came. Core clenching around nothing, you jerked your hips into his face, completely overwhelmed with bliss. Jinyoung was good to you, licking and sucking until you calmed under his touch. 

Unable to hold yourself up with shaky knees, you slid down the door until you were sitting, level with Jinyoung. You let him take you into his arms, kissing the side of your face and stroking your back. 

“What are we, teenagers?” you asked once your body stopped twitching from the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

Jinyoung chuckled softly, pulling back to look at you and smoothing his thumb over your cheek. “Feels like it.”

Now that you weren’t quite so consumed by lust, you were able to appreciate him up close, for the first time since his trip. He must have gotten some sun, judging by the slightly darkened tone of his skin. There were no bags under his eyes, not like you would’ve had if you flew across the world. He looked even better than the last time you’d seen him, which was almost infuriating. 

Just as you were going to scold him for being so handsome, your stomach growled, loud enough for both of you to hear. Jinyoung glanced down, then back up at you, an amused smile on his lips. 

“Hungry?” 

Your cheeks flushed pink and you nodded. “Maybe a little.” 

Jinyoung nodded back at his kitchen and shrugged. “How about takeout? I don’t really have anything in the fridge, still need to hit the store.” 

“Sounds perfect,” you answered. “But we both need new clothes first.” 

----

An hour later, you were dressed in a pair of Jinyoung’s sweatpants and one of his shirts, and he was dressed in a similarly comfortable outfit. He sat next to you on the couch, slurping on ramen. 

You’d ordered enough food for ten people, you realized, after you covered his coffee table with plates and containers that you each picked from. 

“So what you’re saying is everyone loved you,” you said, wiping at your mouth with your napkin. 

Jinyoung chuckled, shaking his head. “Not necessarily. But you know, the girls especially were very interested in our company. One of the convention center employees kept fawning over me. Julie, I think her name was…”

You narrowed your eyes. “Oh, really? Julie?” You pressed your lips together, grumbling to yourself as you reached for the pork belly. “Stupid name.” 

Jinyoung watched you with an amused smile, setting his ramen down on the coffee table to wrap an arm around your waist. “Are you jealous?” 

You ignored him, shoveling a piece of pork into your mouth, looking anywhere but his face. He took the plate out of your hands, setting it down on the table. You whined in protest, mouth full of food. 

“You don’t have any reason to be jealous.” 

He was right--you didn’t. He wasn’t yours, you didn’t have any sort of claim on him. He could’ve taken Julie back to his hotel room if he’d wanted to, and you wouldn’t have had any good reason to be upset. 

“You’re the only one I thought about,” he said, lips brushing the side of your jaw. 

Why did he have to make it so hard, saying things like that? He thought about you, but not like that. He thought about your body, about the sex, but that was all this was. 

You opened your mouth, ready to tell him you wanted to talk about your arrangement, when he beat you to it. 

“That reminds me, actually, I have something for you.” With a quick kiss to your cheek, he stood from the couch and jogged out of the living room towards his room. 

You sighed, head falling back against the couch cushion. You needed to let this go, and you needed to do it now. You could feel yourself falling for him the more that he looked at you, touched you, kissed you. Soon you’d be in a hole you wouldn’t be able to dig yourself out of. 

When Jinyoung came back and sat next to you, he placed a book in your lap. It took you all of three seconds to recognize it, and you were glad you no longer had food in your mouth or you would have choked. 

“You didn’t!” you gasped, grabbing for the book and flipping it back and forth. “This doesn’t come out for another six months!” 

Jinyoung shrugged. “Well, they had some advanced copies lying around and I thought you’d kill me if I didn’t steal one for you.” 

“Yeah, I would have.” 

You’d talked about this book no less than twenty times in Jinyoung’s presence. It wasn’t his cup of tea, but you’d practically been counting down the days for this particular novel, a follow-up to a thriller you’d flown through as soon as it came out last year. 

“Thank you,” you told him, finally looking away from the book in your hands to Jinyoung’s face. He was watching you, corner of his lips quirked. 

“You’re welcome.” 

You stared back down at the book, running your fingers over the cover. Although he hadn’t paid a cent for this, it was one of the best surprises you’d ever received. Your fingers were itching to open it and dive in. 

“You want to start reading it now, don’t you?” 

Giving him a sheepish smile, you nodded. “Yeah.” 

Jinyoung shrugged. “You can. I’ve got plenty that I need to read, I’ll join you.” 

Half an hour later, the two of you were still on the couch, but you were laying with your head at one end and your feet on Jinyoung’s lap at the other end. He had a book resting on top of your ankles and you were already three chapters into your new book. 

You normally hated reading around people, too easily distracted just by the presence of another person, but this felt so natural. You wondered if you’d be able to go back to normal again, after you ended it. 

You’d find a way to live without the affection he’d given you. After all, it hadn’t been real. Your arrangement had served its purpose—you could finally say you were over Jaebeom, and as far as you knew, Jinyoung was over Yeri. He never talked about her, but he didn’t seem particularly torn up over her anymore. 

You wiggled your toes when Jinyoung began running his fingertips over the top of your foot to your ankle, then back again, just a mindless graze over your skin. You looked up over the top of your book, watching the way his eyes followed the words on the page he was reading, brows together in concentration. 

Someday, some other girl would be the one to see him like this, reading on the couch in the evening light while surrounded by greasy takeout. You hoped this girl would love him the way he deserved and wouldn’t take it for granted like Yeri obviously had. 

You stared back down at your book once Jinyoung caught you staring and pretended as if you’d just been spacing out, taking your bottom lip in between your teeth. 

“What are you thinking?” Jinyoung asked. 

“Huh?” You looked up, shaking your head. “Nothing. Why?” 

“You look sad.” He set his book down on his lap, resting both of his hands on your shins. “What are you thinking about?” 

“Nothing,” you said once more. If this was your last night with Jinyoung, you weren’t going to waste it wallowing and thinking about the end. You could pretend, just for the night, that this was real. “Just a sad part in the book.” 

“Already?” 

You nodded. “Could use a kiss.” 

Jinyoung pressed his lips together, considering it. “Huh... that’s an interesting suggestion. You think it’d make you less sad?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Ah,” he nodded, stroking the exposed skin of your ankle with his thumb, “It’s worth a try, then.” 

In an easy movement, he was shifting your legs off of his lap and crawling over you until he hovered over your body. You’d missed having his weight on you like this—you always felt so safe underneath of him. 

“I missed you,” you admitted, once his lips were only a centimeter from yours. “Not just the sex. I missed you.”

Jinyoung shifted back enough to look at your face, his eyes searching your features for something, you weren’t sure what. “Yeah? I missed you too.” 

You slid your hands up the fabric of his shirt, grazing over the warm skin of his back. You wanted to say something, anything, but all you could think about was how somehow, your heart had become entirely his.

You needed to show him, just once, how you felt. 

So you tipped your head up to kiss him, as softly as you ever had. Kissed him with all the love you could muster, as scary as it was to let it pour out. 

Jinyoung was gentle with you in return, his soft, polite lips melting into yours. It was almost tragic how well your lips fit together, knowing you’d never feel it again after tonight. 

Your hands trailed up his back, pushing his tee up to his shoulders in the process. Jinyoung sat up, parting from your lips just long enough to remove his shirt. 

Then he was kissing you again, hand resting on your jaw as his tongue pushed past your lips. You moaned, savoring the taste of him, even if the kiss tasted a little bit like cheap takeout. 

“Wait, wait,” Jinyoung said against your lips as soon as you made a move to push down his sweatpants. “Let’s go to the bedroom. Wanna spread you out.”

You shivered at his words and nodded, letting him pull you up off the couch by the hand and lead you back to the bedroom. 

It was much neater than it was the last time you’d seen it. In fact, it was spotless as ever. No suitcases lying on the ground or shampoo bottles littering the bed. 

Jinyoung removed your shirt the proper way this time, then unclasped your bra a moment later to allow it to fall to the floor. Goosebumps covered your chest but the pure heat in Jinyoung’s gaze got your blood pumping faster, hotter. 

He lifted you without much warning, guiding your legs around his waist as he carried you the rest of the way into his room, falling onto the bed with you trapped underneath of him. You squeezed your legs around his waist, desperate for some contact between your thighs. 

“So… god damn beautiful,” Jinyoung whispered, placing a chaste kiss to your lips before he brushed soft kisses across your face. Your forehead, each cheek, then your nose. It crinkled in response, and you were blessed with a fond smile from Jinyoung. 

The rest of your clothes seemed to fall away, an act that had become as natural as breathing for the two of you. Jinyoung whispered words of praise as he moved down your body, hooking a leg over his shoulder. 

His tongue found your clit naturally, delving deep into your folds to taste the arousal that had gathered there. With each gasp and moan, he worked harder, wanting you needy and wet for him. 

You felt around for his hands, needing something to anchor you to earth while he sucked at your clit for the second time that night, the pressure just enough to drive you mad. 

“Oh, fuck—Jinyoung, right there. Feels so good.” Your hips rolled, matching the rhythm of the heavenly way he was licking into you. 

He moaned into your core, the vibration like a shock of electricity against your clit. Your hips jerked up towards his face and he squeezed your hands, as if telling you to let go. 

Jinyoung brought you over the edge for the second time that night, your thighs clenching around his shoulders as you repeated his name, over and over. 

Your whole body went limp afterwards, only vaguely registering Jinyoung kissing your skin, nuzzling his face into your thighs. 

“Perfect. You don’t even know how stunning you are, like you were made for me,” he spoke against your skin, thumbs stroking the backs of your hands. 

When you recovered enough to open your eyes, you tugged Jinyoung’s hands until he got the hint, crawling back up your body. His lips were on you again in an instant, tongue tasting and exploring like it was the first time. 

Just tonight, you told yourself. Just tonight. 

Jinyoung parted from you after a moment, dipping his head down to leave hot kisses across your chest. Your hands pushed into his hair, moaning out when he sucked one of your nipples into his mouth.

You arched your back as his tongue drew tight circles around the hardened peak, shameless moans and whimpers falling from your lips. 

“Jinyoung, please,” you begged, tugging at the locks of hair between your fingers. “Need you inside.”

Then he looked at you again in a way that made your heart clench. It was only because he was lost in the moment, nothing more. But it felt like he was looking deeper, right into the center of your heart to see the truth there. 

“Y/N…” he started, bringing a hand to the side of your face. His fingertips ran down your cheek to your chin, where he pressed the pad of his thumb into your lower lip. Something about it made you want to cry. 

So you cut off whatever he wanted to say with a kiss, a bruising pressure that you hoped let him know that this was the only place you wanted to be. Here, underneath of his body, you couldn’t imagine anything better. 

It was easy, automatic, the way he angled your knee so that he could sheathe himself inside of you. Slowly, inch by inch, you accepted him. Your walls were slick and ready for him, but it was still a stretch that you’d missed.

“Shit,” Jinyoung whispered against your lips, finally pulling back and taking a deep inhale. “You feel so perfect.” 

You groaned as he bottomed out, burying your face into his neck. You whispered his name if only because it was the only thing you could think as he started rocking his hips into yours, a deep but unbearably slow pace. But this was what you wanted; you needed it to last. Forever, if it could. 

You felt so vulnerable now, knowing that this was it. Jinyoung didn’t know that, and maybe that wasn’t fair, but you couldn’t keep it up. You couldn’t fall more and more in love with him every day, and only get this part of him. There would come a day where you couldn’t take it anymore, and by that point the damage might be too painful to reverse. 

It was better to end it now. But for tonight, you’d take as much as you could. 

Jinyoung began a consistent but torturous pace, the tip of his cock reaching as deep inside of you as you’d ever felt him each time he pushed inside, past the tight resistance of your walls. His free hand trailed down your body, fingertips ghosting southbound over the center of your chest. 

This was all you wanted, all you needed. 

“Please,” you found yourself pleading. Your nails traced angry marks down his back, marks you wanted to remain there forever if only so that he would think about you when this was all over. “Jinyoung…” 

“I’m right here, angel.” His lips found your ear and he kissed the sensitive spot underneath, letting you hear the breathy pants falling from his lips as he picked up the pace of his hips. His hand drifted over, only a few inches, until it was covering your heart.

“Yours,” you whispered, practically inaudible, half hoping he didn’t hear. It was his, it had been for longer than you knew. 

Something about this egged Jinyoung on, his pace growing stronger inside of you and his hips pinning you into the bed roughly. Without any warning, Jinyoung rolled the two of you over so that he was underneath of you and sat up. 

You maneuvered your legs to allow you to kneel over his lap, your thighs straddling his hips and hardly missing a beat as you began to ride him. When you stole a glance at Jinyoung’s face, you wished you could have taken a photo. 

He was completely blissed out, head tipped back and eyes squeezed shut. You reached for his hair, guiding his head forward so that you could look at him. You needed to see him. 

Jinyoung held your hips as you placed your hands on his chest, allowing yourself some leverage, especially when he started to buck up against you each time you slid back over him. You dug your nails into his chest and moaned out, louder and louder as he fucked into you. 

“Look at me,” you said, commanding his attention back to your face. You were met with so much lust that it made your walls clench around him. 

The way he looked at you sent heat through your limbs, even as your thighs started to shake from the way you rode him. Jinyoung touched you all over, hands roaming your back and down to your ass, squeezing it within his palms. 

“Oh God, don’t… don’t stop,” you pleaded, head falling forward to rest against his forehead. You looked into his eyes, clouded with desire. Jinyoung reached for your hand on his chest, sliding it over the few inches until it rested over the left side of his chest, right over his heart. 

“Yours,” he whispered, then brought your hand up to his lips to kiss your fingertips. 

You closed your eyes and felt a tear slide down your cheek, so you turned your head to the side so he wouldn’t see. He didn’t know what he was saying, he didn’t know what it meant. Caught up in the ecstacy of the way your bodies moved together, the pleasure it brought the two of you. 

His hips jerked up, hard, forcing his cock deep against your inner walls. He did it again and again until you were squeezing his hand, tight enough to hurt, but you needed your release. You were desperate now. 

The complicated tornado of emotions inside of you was getting to be too much, you wanted it to be over. You needed it to be over, so you could figure out what the hell you were going to do. 

“Need more. Fuck me, Jinyoung. Please,” you whispered, deliberately squeezing your walls around his cock. He groaned low, wrapping his arms around your waist to tip the two of you forward until you were on your back again, knees locked around his waist. 

His hands found yours, lacing your fingers together as he held your arms above your head, pressed deep into the mattress as he drilled into you. “Mine,” he told you, eyes locked onto yours. He didn’t know just how true that was. 

You knew you were close by the way your thighs started trembling, tightening where they rested on either side of his hips. Jinyoung sensed it as well, picking up his pace. His jaw tightened with the effort, a bead of sweat dripping down his neck. 

“Oh fuck, you gonna come for me?” he asked, running his tongue over his lips. “Come on, baby, come for me again. Need to feel you.” 

His words went straight to your center, where his body met yours, sending you tipping over the edge. You arched your back, not caring how loud you cried out. Your hands tightened around his as your entire body pulsed around him, locking your legs around his waist. 

Jinyoung must have been encouraged on by your orgasm, as you felt his thrusts become more and more off rhythm. He let go of your hands and buried his face into your neck as he filled you up, letting out a guttural groan into your collarbone. 

You crossed your ankles behind his back, not ready to let him pull out of you just yet. With your arms and legs wrapped around him, you tucked your face into the crook of his neck and willed yourself not to cry. 

It’d be okay, you knew it would be, but right now you just needed him to hold you. You’d find a way to forget this someday, the perfect way he fit inside of you, the way he made your heart pound without even trying. 

Your efforts were unsuccessful. Once Jinyoung pulled away, he reached up to wipe wetness from your cheeks. “Did you miss me that much, angel?” 

“Shut up,” you said, averting your eyes. “My period must be coming… hormones or whatever…”

“It’s okay,” he told you, lips brushing across your cheek to collect your tears. “You don’t have to explain.”

Jinyoung left you with a hollow feeling as he pulled out of you, falling to lay on his side next to you, feet at the pillows. Propping up on one of his elbows, he brushed your hair away from your face. 

“You’re okay though, right?” 

You nodded, not having the confidence to answer out loud. But he backed off, though you could tell from his expression he didn’t completely believe you. With a kiss to your forehead, he climbed off of the bed to grab a cloth to clean you up. 

“Wait-” you reached out for him. “Stay.” 

“Gotta get you cleaned up,” Jinyoung replied, the corner of his lips lifting in a smile.

“Just-” you sighed, reaching for his arm to tug him back to you. “Just a few minutes. Please?” 

Jinyoung stared down at you, you knew he was trying to read your expression but you prayed that he wouldn’t find the truth there in your features. “Okay.” 

He laid back down, pulling you close as you curled up into him, soaking up all of the warmth he could offer to you. You tucked your head into his chest, eyes closed to keep your emotions trapped behind a wall, however shaky it may have been. 

Just tonight, you told yourself. Just tonight, you could pretend. 

[eldritchsurveys]

1062.

Have you ever started reading a book and wondered if you’d read it before? >> IDK where on earth Lane got this survey from but it is long as balls and I’m taking it as a personal challenge at this point lmao. LET’S GOOO I’ve never had this experience, no. I don’t always remember the content of books I’ve read, but I at least remember the experience of reading them, I guess?

What has been bothering you a lot lately? >> Oof. I don’t know how to explain it here so it makes sense to the average reader, so I won’t bother making sense. I want Bruni to be a real, external entity, so badly, but if he’s not then I need to know. I need to know if I just created him, because I needed to, so I can come to terms with that and figure out what to do about it. I’ve also been bothered lately by just... my inability to form connections, to feel the way I’m supposed to feel about other people. Knowing why I’m like this (and knowing that it’s not some inherent flaw of mine but a direct result of not being emotionally taken care of when I should have been) only helps a little. I feel like there’s no way I’ll ever be able to fix this, and my only truly fulfilling relationships will be Inworld, forever. (I guess that’s better than nothing, though! At least Inworld exists.)

What (or who) have you been missing lately? >> ---

Are you trustworthy? >> I mean, I guess. I don’t know what anyone would be trusting me with.

Did your parents teach that white lies were ok? >> No, even a white lie would have gotten me punished.

Have you ever hallucinated? >> Yes.

Do you sleep with your door open or closed? >> Closed, to keep both the cat and noise out.

What flags do you have in your room, if any? >> None. Sparrow has a pretty neat gay flag on her wall and a regular gay flag on her lamp.

What (or who) is the best thing that ever happened to you? >> Hm.

What is the worst decision you ever made? >> *shrug*

Do you miss college? >> I’ve never been.

Have you ever called a teacher “mom”? >> No.

What is your favorite arcade game? >> In the Groove.

Do you feel neglected? >> Not now. But I sure do feel the ramifications of previous forms of neglect.

What school subject(s) are/were your best? >> ---

Are you allergic to grass? >> Nope.

Do you remember to water plants? >> Sometimes. I managed to kill a spider plant, though, so I’m kind of discouraged when it comes to plants. I’ll let that be Sparrow’s thing, I’m apparently unfit.

What season is your birthday in? >> Spring.

Name 3 creative people you know. >> ---

Name 3 YouTubers you aspire to be like. >> ---

What color was your first car? >> ---

What year did you graduate? >> 2004.

When was the last time you saw the person you currently have feelings for? >> ---

Have you ever been scammed? >> Nah.

Are you allergic to pollen? >> No.

What style of wedding dress do you like best? >> Sparrow’s was pretty neat.

Are you over your first love? >> ---

Do you talk on the phone a lot? >> I never talk on the phone.

Would you rather call or text? >> Obviously text.

Do you always answer your phone? >> What do you think?

When was the last time you went to a party? >> I guess January; the get-together after Elle’s wedding was pretty much a party.

What was the last thing you ate? >> Beans and rice.

What’s the last book you checked out from the library? >> I haven’t checked a book out in a while. I heard about a book recently and it wasn’t on Scribd so I decided to check Libby just on a whim (I’m used to the books I want to read never being available as ebooks in this library’s meager collection) and they had it. So I might check it out. I feel kind of anxious about doing it because my reading habits have been so erratic lately and I’m like “but what if I don’t read it fast enough?” which, like, you know, I just... renew it... but no one said anxiety had to be fuckin logical, you know.

Do you have a twitter? If so, what was the last thing you tweeted? >> No.

Who was the last person you talked to on the phone? >> ---

What’s the last thing you cooked on the stove? >> Eggs.

What color is the cover of the last notebook you used? >> ---

Who was the last person you know to have a birthday? >> Uh... Sparrow, I think.

Who sent the last e-mail you got? >> YES! Magazine.

What song is currently stuck in your head? >> Just some FFXIV music because I just got done playing about an hour ago.

Do you have a favorite shape? >> No.

What color are the sheets on your bed? >> Light grey.

What time do you usually go to bed? >> Between 10 and 11p.

Do you ever use coloring books? >> I’ve done so, but I haven’t lately.

Are you planning on watching the Olympics? >> No.

Do you pronounce the word “often” with or without a “t” in the middle? Hmm. Now that I’ve said it to myself in a few different contexts, it seems I do both. If it’s a one-word answer, like in response to “how much do you get high?” then “often” has a t in it. If it comes in the middle of a sentence and is not the focus, it does not have one. < Yup.

Have you ever been on a trapeze? >> No.

Do you enjoy popping bubble wrap? >> Sometimes. I saved some from a recent package just in case I get the urge, lol. It’s on my desk right now.

Are there any waterfalls near where you live? >> I don’t think so. The landscape isn’t exactly varied here.

Do you like seafood? >> Yes.

Have you ever had to wear a uniform for anything? >> Parochial school.

If so, what did it look like? >> IDK, man, it was a long time ago.

Do you personally know anyone who is an author? >> No.

Do you own a Polaroid camera? >> No.

Do you enjoy baking? >> No.

What’s your favorite type of flower? >> Sunflowers.

Last time (if ever) you were on an airplane, where were you going? >> I was coming home from Houston.

Do you know anyone who is left-handed? >> Sure.

What is something you think is underrated? >> ---

Around what temperature do you consider it to be too hot outside? >> It’s not so much the temperature as the level of humidity, how sunny it is, what time of year it is, etc. There are multiple factors that go into how I experience temperature and the number on the thermometer is only one facet of that.

In what ways do you expect your life to be different one year from now? >> ---

How often do you travel outside of the state/province you live in? >> Not often. Before it was just because it’s expensive and also Sparrow would have to take off work and stuff, and now it’s because of those reasons and also the pandemic.

What’s a hobby you used to have, but don’t anymore? >> ---

What has been your favorite job you’ve had so far? >> Selling merch for local bands at shows.

What’s your favorite kind of salsa/dip to go with tortilla chips? >> Chunky medium-hot salsa.

Do you wash your car by hand or drive through a car wash? >> ---

Where is the farthest north you’ve traveled to? >> This is probably the farthest north I’ve been.

Farthest south? >> I think New Orleans is farther south than Houston, but I don’t feel like looking it up to confirm (or be proven wrong).

East? >> Long Island?

West? >> Colorado.

How often do you run the dishwasher? >> Every couple of days, when it works. (We’re waiting on Maintenance to come fix it, but of course they’re taking their sweet time.)

Do you wash your face at the sink or in the shower? >> I use micellar water, so I just do it in my room. Otherwise I’d do it in the shower because I hate using the sink for that.

Name a stereotype about your gender that you don’t fit. >> Are there agender stereotypes? I haven’t heard of any.

Name a stereotype about your age that you don’t fit. >> Uh... I don’t have kids? Idk.

Do you have any unusual decorations in your home? >> If so, they’re not unusual to me, so...

Do you have any uncommon kitchen appliances, such as espresso machines, waffle irons, etc? >> We do have a waffle iron (Sparrow got one for her birthday). I’m not sure what other kind of appliances are uncommon. Are rice cookers uncommon? I can’t imagine why they would be, they’re so convenient. Unless you just don’t like rice...

What did your parents major/minor in in college, if they went? >> ---

Has either of their careers influenced what career you chose or want to pursue? >> ---

What is the highest level math class you’ve completed? >> Uh... pre-calculus? I don’t remember, man.

How old were you when you learned how to ride a bike? >> I don’t remember. Somewhere between five and eight, I guess. Sounds right.

How old were you when you learned how to swim? >> ---

How do you react when someone is rude to you? >> It depends on the situation.

Have you ever had a friend who was too clingy? >> No.

What kind of natural disaster is most common where you live? >> Blizzard, I’d imagine.

Why is your least favorite season your least favorite? >> ---

Do you have a Netflix account? >> I do.

Have you ever had an animal get into your attic? >> ---

Where is your favorite place to go on vacation? >> I guess New Orleans.

How long does it take to get there? >> About half a day, including layovers and shit. No direct flights from GRR to MSY.

When was the last time you started a “new chapter” of your life? >> ---

What room in your home do you spend the least amount of time in? >> I don’t really know. I was gonna say Sparrow’s room, and then I was gonna say the kitchen, and then I was gonna say the half-bath... I think the half-bath is probably the most reasonable answer?

What is the last random act of kindness you did? >> ---

Do you do anything to reduce the amount of electricity you use? >> I don’t have to reduce it, I barely use any to begin with.

Are you usually open to trying a new food that you aren’t familiar with? >> Yes.

Do you listen to Panic! At The Disco? >> Yes.

Have you ever had a kinky dream about a celebrity? >> Probably. Not necessarily because I wanted to, sometimes dreams just do weird shit like that.

Is there a song you can’t stop listening to atm? >> No.

Has anyone ever told you that they loved you, and you couldn’t say it back? >> I guess that’s a way to put it.

If your Facebook status doesn’t get any likes/comments, does it bother you? >> ---

Which friend do you confide in most? >> ---

Do you wear a cross? >> There’s a small cross on my left earring. But I don’t wear, like, a religious cross.

What is your opinion on Arby’s? >> I’ve only had it once, and that was on the way back from Colorado that one time, when the Greyhound stopped at Arby’s. I don’t remember what the food was like, though. Not even sure why I remember that we stopped there at all.

When you have your own kitchen, how will it be done? >> I mean, this kitchen is “mine”? I don’t live with parents or anything, so...? But I don’t have a choice in how it looks or anything, I didn’t build it.

What is your favorite doughnut? >> Apple cider doughnuts, always.

Do you have a hot tub? If so, where is it located? >> No.

Did you read the Twilight series, or jump on the bandwagon after the movie? >> I read the first book ages ago, didn’t care for it, forgot about it (until it blew up in popularity, of course).

What is your favorite party game? >> ---

Do you or your parents rake your yard? >> ---

Were you pro-Obama? >> I didn’t have an opinion at the time, I was busy trying to survive.

What is your favorite scent from Bath & Body Works? >> ---

What was the last illegal thing you did? >> I don’t remember. Probably something like jaywalking. Or watching Bill & Ted Face the Music on an illegal streaming site. 

Who did you last go to the movies with? >> Sparrow.

What color was the last vehicle you were in? >> Silver.

Do you have any family members in the military right now? >> ---

Is there a ceiling fan in the room you’re in? >> Nope.

When was the last time you wished time would move faster? >> I don’t know.

Are there any owls in your room (as decor, of course)? >> Nope.

Have you ever heard voices? >> Not... in that sense. Like obviously I hear the Inworlders’ voices, but... not quite the same thing, I’m guessing.

Do you believe in angels and demons? >> I have not encountered those kinds of angels and demons. I usually use those words as like... shortcut terms rather than references to the actual Christian concepts or whatever.

Who is the worst neighbor you have ever had? >> ---

Did your Barbies go on dates? >> I don’t recall the specific nature of the social playacting I did with Barbies.

If you’re not straight, who was the first person you came out to? >> I didn’t “come out to” anyone.

Where did you meet your first crush? >> ---

Do you remember the first time your first crush ever said hi to you? >> ---

Do you ever go places with wet hair? >> No.

Who is your favorite little girl? >> ---

What do you want the most in life? >> That’s complicated.

What is a decision you’ve made that changed your entire life? >> I don’t know, man.

Do you ever wonder what kind of person you’d have turned out to be if a certain event never happened to you?  >> Absolutely.

When you’re home alone, do you still shower with the bathroom door closed? >> No. I’ve also showered with the door open even when Sparrow was home, I just usually don’t because it’s not necessary (I just use my phone flashlight in that case so it’s not pitch dark and I don’t kill myself in there). But when I’m alone I just leave the door open for the ambient light. Why don’t I use the bathroom light? Because I have Problems and Disorders. Next question.

If you could have anyone’s singing voice, whose would you choose?  >> I like my own.

What are your top 3 favorite genres of music?  >> ---

Where did you buy your dishes from? >> We generally don’t buy dishes. All of our dishes are from either Sparrow’s sister or the wedding registry.

Do you think Mars will be colonized in your lifetime?  >> I doubt it.

What’s the most expensive thing you’ve bought that turned out to be a waste of money?  >> ---

What’s something you’ve bought that turned out to be way more useful than you anticipated? >> I don’t know.

Have you ever been on a ship?  >> I’ve been on a ferry and a regular boat. Not a ship.

Do you ever take intentional breaks from checking/posting on social media?  >> Just like... off days, I guess. Sometimes I need time to do other stuff and it’s easier to do that when I don’t have the internet wide open and ready to distract me.

Who was Van Halen’s better singer - David Lee Roth, or Sammy Hagar? >> I don’t have a preference.

Which fictional character has the most memorable quotes?  >> *shrug* ???

What’s a class you did not take in school, but now wish you had?  >> ---

Have you ever been to either of your parents’ workplaces?  >> ---

What do you think of the ‘Healthy At Every Size’ movement/philosophy?  >> I don’t have any thoughts about it because I don’t know what exactly said philosophy entails. The phrase itself doesn’t give me enough information to start forming an opinion around.

Have you ever been bitten so hard that their teeth marks were there after? >> Yeah.

Ever been given a hickey? (Love bite)  >> No.

Ever gave one?  >> I don’t think so.

Are you more of an outgoing type or shy type?  >> ---

Do you think it’s weird if guys wear make-up like eyeliner?  >> .... No.........

Are you self conscious? If so what are you self conscious about?  >> I’m self-conscious about being Weird(tm), having Issues and Problems Disorders, and having differing opinions about things that lots of people think a certain way about.

Are you flirty at all?  >> No.

Are you racist at all?  >> I might have perpetuated racist speech and behaviour, sure. I don’t think that means “I am a racist”, I think that means I’ve learned some fucked up shit from other people and hopefully I’ve learned better by now.

Would you ever date a disabled person? (Be honest)  >> ...

If you found a baby randomly by itself what would you do?  >> Call the authorities, I guess. Like... idk??? That’s such a weird situation to be in.

Would you rather adopt or have your own child?  >> ---

What would you class as cheating on someone?  >> I don’t have a personal definition for cheating because the concept does not apply to me or how I do relationships.

Do you try to be politically correct? >> No.

What’s your favorite kind of sea critter?  >> I’m not sure. There are a lot of cool ones.

Have you ever tasted locally-made honey before?  >> Yep! <3

As far as earrings go, would you rather wear hoops or studs? >> Neither, I like the earrings I have.

Do you find P.E. humiliating, or think schools shouldn’t teach it?  >> I found it obnoxious and boring and a waste of time, but that doesn’t mean schools shouldn’t teach it. I just had a bad time with it for my own specific reasons.

Do you recycle?  >> No.

Are you interested in current world issues?  >> Not particularly.

Do you think you are mature, or immature?  >> ...

What kind of career are you interested in? >> ---

Do you own a pair of sunglasses?  >> I own two pairs. I really want a better pair, like an actual good pair of sunglasses and not just cheapo pairs.

Do you use bobby pins, hair clips, or elastic hair ties? Which?  >> No.

How badly do you get acne? (If at all)  >> I don’t.

What’s the best way to cope with a breakup?  >> ---

If someone dislikes you, what is most likely to be the reason?  >> I said something that ticked them off? I don’t smile enough? IDK, dude?

How many text messages do you have in your inbox atm?  >> ---

When was the last time you had a difficult decision to make?  >> I don’t remember.

In school, what subjects do/did you find the most difficult?  >> English.

Do you still speak to the person you had your first kiss with?  >> ---

Where did you meet the last person you swapped numbers with?  >> ---

Who was the last person to add you as a friend on Facebook?  >> One of Elle’s friends that I met at her wedding.

Who was the last person that asked if you were okay?  >> I don’t remember the last time someone asked me that.

What does your handwriting look like?  >> I don’t know how to describe it.

Do you use any products on your hair, other than shampoo and conditioner?  >> I use a tea tree oil on my scalp and that’s about it.

Who were your best friends in primary school? >> ---

Do you still speak to any of them? >> ---

What was the last thing you bought from a vending machine?  >> I don’t remember the last time I used a vending machine.

What color hair did your first crush have?  >> ---

What type of shoes do you find the most comfortable?  >> No shoes.

Are you more masculine or feminine?  >> ---

If you could design your own mug, what would you put on it?  >> I don’t want to design a mug. I like the ones I already have.

What is the best beach you’ve been to?  >> I’ve only been to the NY ones...

What is one thing you physically can’t do?  >> Run a marathon.

Have you ever been to a funeral? >> Yes.

Have you ever visited your state’s capitol building?  >> No.

Have you ever visited your nation’s capitol building?  >> No.

Do/did you have a favorite seat in church?  >> ---

What is your favorite park?  >> I still really love Central Park. And Prospect Park, too.

Have you ever felt an earthquake? >> A very minor aftershock, once.

Do you chew gum regularly?  >> Not anymore, not after Orbit ruined my favourite kind. :(

Where did you go on your first train ride?  >> I think that was to North Carolina when I was 17.

Do you know anyone with a dual citizenship?  >> No.

What sports teams do you root for, if any? (Extra points for Boston fans.) >> ---

Do you dunk your cookies in milk?  >> Nope.

What is something you are confident about?  >> ---

Have you ever been physically addicted to a substance? What?  >> No.

How do you feel about needles?  >> I don’t have any feelings about them, they don’t affect me either way.

What is your favorite accent to listen to?  >> ---

What was the reason you last got dressed up?  >> Halloween.

Have you ever been the subject of cruel rumors? What were they?  >> Maybe at some point, but I don’t remember now.

Do you prefer loose or form-fitting clothing? What about on your preferred gender?  >> I prefer looser clothing. Not baggy, per se, just looser.

What do you do when you are really, really mad?  >> I don’t know, I haven’t been that mad in so long I have no idea what I’d do.

Would you rather go naked than wear fur?  >> Fuck no????

Do you put a line through your 7’s? What about your Z’s?  >> Nah.

What is one thing that someone could do to you that is unforgivable?  >> *shrug*

Are you able to forgive and forget? >> Mehhhh.

Do you like cold pizza? >> I really do not.

What is your favorite fruit?  >> I’m not sure, I like most fruits.

What about your favorite fruit juice, if it differs from solid fruit?  >> ---

Do you like broccoli and cheese? >> No! Leave broccoli alone, christ.

What about potatoes and cheese?  >> Not really?

Have you written a letter by hand, lately? To whom?  >> No.

Toaster or toaster oven?  >> We only have a toaster, but I would love a toaster oven.

What are you most known for?  >> ---

Do you have any reputations? What are they?  >> Er...

Do you wear band shirts? What band was on the last one you wore?  >> I do. I’m not sure what the last one I wore was.

Do you own any hats? Describe them.  >> I have a plain floppy beanie and I have one that says “I don’t need no body” and it has a dancing skeleton on it, lol.

What about masks, you got any? Describe those.  >> Yeah, I have a raven masquerade mask. I forget why.

What was the last thing to leave you speechless?  >> I don’t remember.

Do your parents like your friends? If they don’t, why not?  >> ---

Have you been called a bad influence?  >> I don’t think so.

Describe your favorite pair of socks.  >> I don’t have a favourite, per se, but here’s a fun pair I have: they say “eat, drink, and be spooky” or something very similar and have a fun Halloween design on them.

Have you experienced any life-changing news, events, etc, lately?  >> No.

Have any self-done piercings?  >> Not anymore.

Ever pierced someone else?  >> No.

Do you get distracted easily?  >> By things like sound and motion.

Is talking to strangers enjoyable for you, or stressful?  >> It can really go either way. Sometimes it’s just neutral.

How do you feel about getting new neighbors? >> I don’t care. They’re probably just going to be loud asses too.

How many ceiling fans are in your home?  >> Zero.

Do you tweet your life away? >> I don’t tweet at all.

How do you feel about shameless self promoting? >> I don’t care?

When reading words. like. this. do. you always pause after the periods?  >> Yeah.

What about screaming when reading something IN ALL CAPS?  >> Yes, which is why I hate when people type like that. There’s a popular blogger on this website that makes all their posts in all-caps and I will never fucking understand it. Like, their content is fun sometimes but I can’t really engage with it because I hate the shouty text!

[stuckysdaughter]

JD/short!reader

There was never anything in particular you hated about yourself. You were smart and did well in school, you had nice friends, a good home life, and you weren’t unattractive. Maybe not the hottest person in school, but cute. You dressed modestly, so you weren’t calling so much attention to yourself. And maybe that was a good thing, especially in high school. The only issue was your height. You were very short, standing at a whopping four foot ten. This made a lot of things kind of difficult, including but not limited to: reaching things on high shelves, seeing around people in class to see the blackboard, finding clothes that were cute and that fit you, and, most importantly, kissing people. You didn’t really have a love life. You kept your head down, and didn’t draw attention to yourself, and you didn’t really mind it that way. So it was a wonder that someone like Jason Dean, or JD as everyone called him, even noticed you in the first place.

It was your senior year, and you had managed so far not to be involved in drama. It just wasn’t something you or your friends wanted in their lives. You all ate lunch together, at a decent sized table so you all could fit. That’s when you saw the handsome dark-haired boy sitting in the corner by himself. You thought he had to be lonely, at least you would be, but you didn’t know anything about him. That and the fact that you and your friends barely fit at the table already, and you couldn’t really fit more people in. He was new to your school, which was weird since it was November, but you guessed that it was probably normal for him. It seemed like he did this kind of thing a lot.

Crap. You think he just caught you staring at him. You only just averted your gaze, but he could probably guess that you were watching him. The next time you might not be so lucky. You also hoped desperately that it wasn’t too obvious that you were attracted to him. He was not hard on the eyes, and he probably knew it. But he also had an air about him that said he didn’t really care much about what people thought about him. You blushed, and hoped that neither he nor your friends noticed your newfound infatuation.

You carried on throughout the day like normal, until you hit the next to last class: Calculus. You were doing well in the class, but you were by yourself. Your friends had it a different period than you. The only person you knew was JD, and he was absent more often than not. Today was the weird day where he was here. And he took the seat next to you.

“Greetings and Salutations,” he said as he leaned over the side of the desk. 

“Hi.”

“So, I saw you looking at me earlier today in the cafeteria-” 

You interrupted, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. It’s just…” 

He raised an eyebrow as you floundered for an explanation. You couldn’t just tell him the real reason. He let out a laugh that sounded more like a rush of air than a laugh.

“Hey, it’s ok. If you tell me what the fuck to do for this assignment, I’ll pretend like I didn’t see you undress me with your eyes,” he smirked. 

“I did not!”

He was still smirking. “You most certainly did!”

You didn’t have a good comeback, so you just opened your notebook and the packet of problems for the week. You also noticed that he didn’t have the assignment for the week before done, too.

“Ok, so on to math.”

He groaned, which made you giggle a little.

“I know. I hate it too.”

“But you’re doing so well. I know that you’re at the top of the class.”

“That’s very kind, but that doesn’t mean I like it.”

That made him laugh, too. You realized that he’s kind of nice, and kind of fun to talk to as well. Shit. You were falling, and falling fast. You started to explain how to do the equations before the bell rang signifying the start of class. You tried to be as patient as possible, since it was taking a bit of time. Thinking about it, you made an offer.

“So, I was thinking,” you said as everyone packed up and went on to their last class. “There is a lot of work here, which is a lot of time. You’re welcome to come over to my house or we can meet in the library after school so you can get caught up. What do you think?”

He was silent for a minute, just staring at you. What you didn’t know was that in his head, he was thinking that you looked really cute right then, as you were nervously biting your lower lip. You were quite a bit shorter than him, standing somewhere around his shoulder blade, but he didn’t care. He thought you were attractive, and he wanted to spend as much time with you as possible. He didn’t need help with calculus, he wanted to see what kind of person you were. Now that he knew you were kind and smart, and wanted to see him again, he couldn’t let this opportunity go to waste.

“Yeah, that sounds great. I’ll see you in the library later,” and with that, he walked away, smiling to himself.

You grinned, excited to spend the hour after school together in the library. You rushed to your last class, which was at the other end of the school. You really didn’t want to be late, since your dad taught that one. He wanted everyone to be on time, and you didn’t think you could stand being the reason he made his attendance speech again. What you didn’t know was that your offer to help him study was just the beginning of your relationship together.

Fast forward a couple of months and the two of you are getting ready to go to prom. It took a bit of convincing to get him to go. Neither he nor you were big fans of school events, but it was your senior prom and you weren’t going to miss it. Once you persuaded him to want to go, he asked you while over at your house. Your parents wanted to meet the boy you started to date a few months back, and the two of you were going to hang out. JD didn’t want to go back to his house and his dad, and you didn’t want him to leave. It was perfect. Now he was coming over to pick you up before you met with some friends for dinner. You were upstairs in your room when the doorbell rang.

“He’s here,” you said nervously, as your mom finished curling the ends of your hair.

“He’s gonna love this. You look amazing, sweetheart,” your mom said with a smile.

You grinned. “Thanks, Mom.”

You got up from your chair, and put on the white heels you chose. Your light blue dress swirled around your feet and you had to hike up the bottom to put your shoes on. Standing back up, you readjusted your hair, looking at yourself in the mirror. You hoped you would have a good time, knowing that all your friends were meeting up and they all got along at least a little with JD. 

“Alright, Y/N, it’s showtime,” your mom said. 

You let out a breath of air, and left your bedroom. As you looked from the top of the stairs, you saw your boyfriend in a tux, talking to your father. Later he would swear that he wasn’t intimidated, but you knew the look on his face. He was scared of your father. He glanced to the top of the stairs, and stared at you. He was stunned. You never dressed like this, and you looked absolutely gorgeous.

Your dad turned when he saw the look on JD’s face, and smiled when he saw you. You went down a few stairs, to the landing where the angle changed. 

“Wow,” was all JD could manage.

You giggled a little, as both he and you blushed. Your dad pulled out the camera, and took a picture of you on the stairs. He motioned for JD to join you, and the two of you posed for the camera. Your mom wanted every cheesy pose she could think of, and you complied, albeit a little annoyed. You just wanted to go and enjoy the night. 

As you were taking pictures, JD enjoyed the way your body melded with his. Your head fit very nicely under his jaw, which was great when the two of you cuddled. He couldn’t deny that he loved the little touches when you were in public, and the all-out snuggling together when you were alone. After his mom died, he never really felt that kind of love and affection, so it felt amazing when you did it. He felt special, and he felt more loved than his whole life.

You both enjoyed prom. For you both it was an excuse to touch each other when you normally wouldn’t. You persuaded each other to dance a little, and to let loose. You never knew he could dance that well, but the boy had moves. He looked like a goofball, but so did you, and you both laughed so hard. When it came time to slow dance with a partner, he gathered you into his arms. He rested his head onto yours, wrapping his arms around your waist. You put yours on his shoulders, not really knowing where to put them. No place was great, but you both seemed to like this best. 

JD swayed the two of you slowly, and you closed your eyes, enjoying the moment. You never wanted to leave his side, and you knew that you loved him.

“JD?” you started.

He lifted his head to look at you, “Yeah?”

You paused not knowing whether or not to take the leap. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, Y/N,” was his automatic response. There was no thinking required.

You both grinned like idiots, and went back to dancing. As the song ended, you both pulled back, but remained in each others’ arms. You looked in each others’ eyes, and you saw his flick to your lips and back. This was it. He leaned down a little, and you met him in the middle, standing on the balls of your feet. 

It felt like heaven. Your lips moved with his in a slow synchrony, and you felt a wave of happiness surge through you. You never felt like this about anyone before, and you were excited. You moved your hands to his long hair, as he went to grab your hips. When the two of you broke apart, gasping for air, you both smiled. You couldn’t put your forehead to his like in the movies, so you settled for nestling into his chest.

“Hey Y/N?”

“Hm?” You hummed in response. 

“There’s something I need to tell you.” He was really nervous now, and you could tell.

“Ok,” you said hesitantly, thinking the worst.

“Do you remember when we met? And you helped me with my Calculus work?”

“Yeah…”

“I never actually needed help. I’m actually really good at math. I just wanted a way to talk to the cute girl who thought I was attractive from the other side of the lunch room…” He looked at you, nervous for the way you’d answer.

You stepped back, to get a look at his face. You saw he was scared, no, terrified, and you just smiled softly. You leaned back up to kiss him, his lips meeting yours with no resistance.

“Well it’s a good thing you pretended, then. I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t met you. You’re so clever and handsome, and the absolute sweetest man I have ever met.”

His eyes started to mist, and he smiled. It was then that he knew he was where he was supposed to be. He had told you about his history when you started dating, as if he was going to self-destruct his life. You had listened, and were concerned, but you hadn’t seen any of that then. You saw the boy he wanted to be for you, and you accepted his problems, just as he accepted yours. He had his low moments, as did you, and you helped each other through them, by convincing him to go to therapy, and just being there for each other. His life changed for the better when he met you, and he was going to keep it that way. 

Even though he sometimes felt the urge to take a violent path to punish those who hurt your feelings, he knew that that would end your relationship. He didn’t want to lose his love, and you knew that too. You always tried to show that it didn’t bother you that much, and there was no need for revenge. The two of you were in for the long haul, and that’s just the way you wanted it. Absolutely in love, and not caring about anything else.

[percywinchester27]

About a boy (Part-8)

Word count: 4.7K

Warning: Suspense, feels, physical abuse, child-trafficking and bullying

Characters: Dean, Cas, Gabriel, Benny, Michael, OCs and… Sam?

Summary: Dean Winchester has a secret. A secret that could really land him in trouble. He never expected to connect with anyone when he walked into the ‘Blue Stone Orphanage for Boys,’ but even then, the walls he has put up are slowly coming down. Now, a series of strange events are threatening to expose him. When everything starts falling apart around him, will he still be able to save the one person that matters the most?

A/N: I’m sorry this part is so delayed. Life got to me in a not so nice way. I will try my best to be better from now on <3

All my love to @thing-you-do-with-that-thing​​​​​ and @deanssweetheart23​​​​​ for beta reading this story <3

About a boy masterlist

“Sometimes I think that some of these kids dye their hair,” Will muttered, kicking a stone out of the way. “There can’t possibly be that many brown haired boys.”

“You have brown hair,” Cas pointed out mildly, feeling sympathetic towards the boy.

“But my name isn’t Sam!” Will exhaled, attacking another stone. 

The two of them were walking back from school. Dean had waited back for some extra class, and on the way out Cas had bumped into Will, who had been in a dark, brooding mood. Only now did he know that it was because of an abundance of dark haired boys.

“I feel like I’m disappointing Dean,” Will admitted. “But I swear there isn’t another Sam on the floor, unless some kid is hiding his real name for whatever reason. The only other thing Dean gave me to go by, was that Sam has brown hair. But that is most boys.” His voice was full of despair. 

“You’re being harsh on yourself, Will,” Cas soothed, placing a hand on Will’s shoulder. “There isn’t much to go on here and Dean knows that. He isn’t going to be disappointed.”

“I had to do this one thing, and I’m wretched at it,” Will moaned, seemingly not having accepted a word of what Cas had said. 

He is used to always having a solution, Cas thought. Will attempted math Olympiads for fun. He was smart enough to fuse out the fire alarm system. He was the sort of boy who was used to getting solutions for his problems, answers for mysteries, and now that he couldn’t figure this one out, it was bothering him. But there was also one other thing. Will was probably used to being self sufficient. He had always made his own bed and clapped his own back. Now, there was Dean.

Cas realised, Will looked upto Dean. The way he hung on to Dean’s every word like it was a gospel. How he glowed when Dean lightly made fun of him, teased him or even called him a dumb-ass. Behind Will’s disappointment was his inherent desire for praise, and not any praise, but Dean’s praise.

Cas felt a deep pang in his stomach, a swell of empathy. He had seen so many kids yearn for attention, for a drop of love in this place where everyone was lonely together. Will was no different. He’d never had anyone to appreciate his intellect. Lots of parents would have sold their souls for a prodigal child like Will. But here he was looking for acceptance from a boy who was looking for something else, someone else.

With a heavy heart, he said, “We’ll keep looking, Will. We’ll find Sam.”

The boy looked up, hazel eyes round, the question in them clear as the day. Who is Sam? But he didn’t ask. Maybe something about Cas’s expression made it clear that he wouldn’t answer. It wasn’t his secret to tell anyway. Besides, he had no business dragging a kid into this. Especially a kid residing on the 4th floor. Cas shuddered.

Will cast another look, but didn’t talk for the rest of the way back.

*****************************

“Damn it!” Dean cursed as he stumbled over a rough patch of land. It had been three days since the fire alarm incidence and he could only barely manage to walk by himself. Of course today had to be the day when the calculus teacher extended the class. Ordinarily, Dean would have ditched in favor of having a steady support in Cas to walk back, but he paid attention in calculus. After all, he had promised to help Will out with it. So much for that crazy kid’s expedition to champion math! Which was why Dean took meticulous notes and for that, he had to wait back.

Apart from having to stumble all the way back, Dean didn’t really mind walking alone. Cas had been hovering over protectively over Dean at all times, worrying that if he was left alone, Michael’s goons might ambush him and finish what they started that night. As it turned out, Cas needn’t have worried at all. All his fears had been put to rest when the Principal had called Dean and Cas and asked about their bruises. Apparently, the nurse had made a formal request to the principal to look into the matter. Dean hadn’t given names, but the word got out and the said gang of goons started skirting him. It had still taken a quarter hours reassurance to get Cas to leave without him. 

Now his legs ached, his lungs screamed in protest. I’m experiencing old age at fifteen, Dean thought wryly as he pushed the gate of bell stone open. He heard the voices before the scene around the corner met his eyes.

A woman’s voice was echoing in the yard, high and poignant and authoritative. The familiarity and hope of just seeing someone he knew had Dean running despite the pain shooting up his foot. He wasn’t wrong. 

There she was standing tall and thin, with short brown hair, and the sheriffs uniform crisply cutting a formidable figure before him. Even though her back was to him, Dean knew it was her.

Jody.

He started rushing towards her, then abruptly stopped, the realisation hitting him like a block of ice. No one knew that he knew Jody. He couldn’t just barge in like that and blow his cover and their plan. The sight of her induced such homesickness, Dean staggered to the tree next to him, falling back against it for support. He felt like his legs might give out anytime. 

Even if he did meet her, what was he going to tell her? He’d made no progress when it came to the Stynes. Jody had put all her trust in him, risked arguments with authoritative people to get him in and he had nothing for her. He had no clue about where all the kids were disappearing off to. Shame and guilt flared up inside him and he lowered himself on the ground, disappearing completely from her line of vision.

He had disappointed her. 

“Officer,” someone cleared his throat. Dean recognised Andy. He sounded uncomfortable and scared. “It wasn’t really my fault, you see.”

“Not your fault?” Jody thundered. “Locking up kids like that on floors? And don’t you lie to me, I saw the grills myself.”

“They’re old, rusted and just there, doesn’t mean we use them,” Andy stuttered. He was much taller than Jody, but right now she seemed to tower over him.

“Do you take me for an idiot? I rolled one of those down, and for iron so rusted, it sure slid down smoothly.”

Despite the reeling shame, Dean wanted to whoop out loud. Jody was one of the smartest people he knew, and badass. Andy was in for it.

“We searched the whole place thoroughly, and those kids live in horrible conditions,” she said. “This place is a living hazard. You call it a boys home?” And what of the left wing?” she pressed, disgusted.

Dean dared to raise his head above the shrubbery just a little bit to peer into the opening. Jody was standing along with two other police officers, all of them in uniform. Andy was just a few feet away, visibly displaced, and Garth was hovering in the background, for apparently no other reason than to provide staff support to Andy. Garth seemed disinterested in the exchange and was fiddling with the dials on his walkman.

“The left wing is not in my jurisdiction. It’s always locked up. It doesn’t belong to the orphanage.” Andy’s voice was reedy.

Jody put her hands on her hips. “Really?” There was a dangerous edge to her tone. “And you don’t have the keys.”

“No,” Andy lied through his teeth. That asshole. 

If Dean had had any reservations about whether or not Andy knew what was up in this place, they were shattered right then and there. He was in this with the Stynes.

Jody turned to the police officer next to her. “Alright, Andrew, we’re breaking in.”

“Do you have a warrant to search the place?” Andy questioned. Dean swore under his breath. This man actually had the audacity to act superior. Dean tried to raise his head further to get a better view, to see the expression on Jody’s face. His foot slipped and fell back on the ground with a crash.

“Who’s there?” Andy said sharply.

“Shit!” 

“Get up,” Jody ordered, and Dean, after muttering a few more choice words, staggered to his feet and raised his hands. “It’s me.”

Andy’s face turned red, the suppressed anger making its appearance. “Winchester!” he bellowed, “What the f-... hell are you doing there?”

“I-I fell down,” he said hurriedly. “Was coming back from school.”

“From behind the bush?” It was Jody. “Higgs, what’s this boy doing here?”

Dean noted with detachment that he’d actually never known what Andy’s last name was. He avoided meeting Jody’s gaze.

“Look up!” Jody ordered, and Dean did so; slowly.

It was there for a split second, but Dean saw it in her brown eyes as they widened. A complex emotion; a mixture of relief, tenderness, pain… and then horror… anger.

“Higgs.” Jody’s voice was low, but it was so full of anger, loathing, that Dean backpedalled. “What the hell,” she said, seething, “happened to his face?”

Andy looked at Dean properly for the first time and paled. The angry red patches on his cheeks disappeared quickly. “I-I don’t know,” he said, running a hand across his face nervously. “You know how they get sometimes. Boys will be boys.”

But Jody was having none of Andy’s shit. She grabbed him by the collar and pulled his face to her level. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t drag your ass back to the station for allowing child abuse.” She looked dangerous, and Dean truly understood why everyone with ill-intent back home ran in the opposite direction when they saw her car. 

Dean knew she couldn’t actually haul Andy to the station. This wasn’t her area of jurisdiction. This was just part of her case. And even if she could get the local PD to do this, it threatened their whole operation. Sniffing police interference, the Stynes might completely move their base. Children would keep disappearing and Dean would lose his only chance of finding Sam.

Andy stammered a mumbled explanation as Jody pushed him roughly. Dean didn’t hear a word of what Andy was saying, for Jody had turned to look at him, and Dean braced himself for the disappointment in them. Not only had he failed her so far in the operation, he’d managed to get his ass kicked spectacularly, too. In fact, his bruises were better now, light purple to yellow in some parts and the swelling almost gone in others. 

When Dean looked up, Jody had squared her shoulders to face only him. Her eyes were blazing, though not with dismay or any hint of let down. There was only regret and pain there and so much worry that Dean felt he would drown in it. 

He was reeling. Suddenly he was standing in the front space of Bobby’s house, Jody looking down at him not with anger but worry when he’d first rigged a car. The day when he’d caught Bobby and her sitting on the porch steps and how hastily she had withdrawn her hand from Bobby’s when she’d seen Dean walk towards. He remembered the sun light squinting off the wooden table and how she had been nervously running her fingers along the edge of the table when Bobby told him they were seeing each other. Jody who was never nervous, only scary, had cared about what Dean, who wasn’t even Bobby’s son, had to say about their relationship. 

Dean remembered all the times she had driven by early so she could drop Dean off at school when Bobby was out of town. he had hated being driven around in the sheriff’s car. It was like announcing ‘don’t be friends with me, I know the sheriff.’ He’d barely ever spoken a word to her then. Suddenly there had been casseroles on holidays and real food on the table on Sunday mornings, instead of whatever mix Bobby put on the table in his hungover state.

All the sneaking around, whispers that were quieted too quickly so it wouldn’t make Dean awkward. The hope in her eyes when he sipped the coffee that she had made on mornings that she’d stayed over. She would almost always get it wrong by adding sugar, when Dean liked his black. Only now, after he had lived in this hell hole, did he realise the sort of luxury he’d had. He was no different from all the boys living in the orphanage. His parents were as dead and cold in their graves as the others’. But unlike them, he’d always had a room of his own, no worry where his next meal came from. He’d had gruff ‘good mornings’ from Bobby and shenanigans in his garage. And unexpectedly, softness from a woman who made her living by being firm.

Tears burned at the back of Dean’s throat and he blinked rapidly, still unable to take his eyes off of hers. Of course there would be no disappointment in those eyes… only care and… love. Jody’s eyes shone with unshed tears of her own, and he could see her desperately trying to get a grip. 

“I got punched at school,” Dean said through a thick throat. “It wasn’t anybody’s fault.” He fervently hoped that behind his words, she heard what he truly wanted to say. It wasn’t your fault, Jody. None of this is. Please don’t pull me out of here. For the both of us.

She had wanted this one win in that male dominated department where she was better by ten times than any idiot. And he wanted… no, he needed to find Sam. He stared intently back at her, willing her to understand. At long last, she nodded. A quick jerk of her chin.

“Alright,” she said hoarsely. Dean hoped that the others interpreted it as anger. “Get going then. Next time I hear of you breaking into fights, I’ll admit you to a juvie myself. You get that?”

Dean nodded.

���Off you go,” she ordered in what was supposed to be a stern voice. Then, she very deliberately raised her hand, as if to shoo him off, and pointed it to the side of the orphanage. Even though the main door was right in front. Something glinted off her finger as it caught the Sun, and Dean caught his breath. It was a thin gold band, plain but solid, resting on the second finger.

He had to bite his lips so as to not betray a reaction.

She widened her eyes. GO.

Dean turned on his heel and headed towards the side she had pointed towards, completely bypassing the main door. In the distance he could hear Jody ordering Andy and the others off towards the left wing, even if just for the heck of it. Leading them away, he realised, away from him.

He increased his pace and turned around the corner. Dean rarely visited this part of the ground. Mostly because there was an old barnhouse there that totally creeped him out. Once upon a time, when the orphanage hadn’t actually been an orphanage but a handsome, inhabited manor, the barhouse used to house actual animals- poultry, horses and pigs. Now it was just as dilapidated as the manor house if not more. The timber girders were sagging under the dead load of the disrupted roof. The planks that made up the walls had been eaten into by termites, and cobwebs adorned the facade extensively. Of course it gave Dean the creepers. Of course he’d never even been slightly tempted to go in. But as he inspected the barren building, he noticed, to his surprise, that the door was ajar.

Dean knew the barn-house was used as a storage for things so old that even the Orphanage didn’t want it inside, which was saying something. Dean and Cas often joked that the only use it would be would be if they used it as kindling and set it on fire. At least one night wouldn’t be so cold anymore. The trepidation he felt as he stepped inside the threshold now, was very real. 

Inside, everything was at least five times dustier than what he thought it would be. And so much darker. Silhouetted against the broken furniture and wardrobes was a man. He was wearing plaid underneath a thick flannel jacket and a baseball cap. Scruffy beard covered his face. A face with all too many frown lines, but laugh lines around his eyes. A face that was more familiar to Dean than any other.

Before he knew it, Dean was bounding forwards till his face was pressed against the soft cotton of the man’s shirt.

“Bobby!” Dean let out a strangled dry sob. 

It was too much. The weeks and weeks of living in this hell house, the constant fear for Sam, of not finding Sam, all came crashing down. Then there was that other feeling, one that almost made him feel ashamed. If Dean didn’t know better, he’d say it was a feeling of… belonging. But how could he belong to this place? He hated every brick of the orphanage. A place that caged children. His Sam... Cas and Will. Maybe the belonging wasn’t with the place… but with the people.

“Hush,” Bobby said gruffly, patting Dean’s shoulder. Dean noticed that his voice was thicker than usual. Bobby cleared his throat. “It’s alright, my boy.”

Dean didn’t want to let go of Bobby. Not just because he had missed Bobby terribly, but because he’d never actually ever hugged Bobby like this. He didn’t know what to expect when he pulled back. 

When he did, there was only fierceness in Bobby’s eyes. Fierceness and fear. Not unlike Dean’s own fear for his brother and friends. A disjointed part of his mind wondered if love and fear were always this connected. And how it had taken him a trip to this goddamn place to feel both of those emotions so viscerally.

Bobby was still looking down at him, his lashes were wet. Dean had to look away.

“What are you doing here?” Dean asked.

Bobby shrugged. “I heard about the fire from Jody. I-I was worried.” he hesitated, then added. “I needed to know that you were fine. I know you’re… well, you’re scared of fire.”

Dean had never said it, but Bobby was there in the early days when Dean even flinched from the stove fire. 

That still didn’t answer the question.

“I mean, what’re you doing here?” Dean gestured to the out house.

Bobby cleared his throat once more. “Sneaked in. Had to see you. I had to beg with Jody so I could tag along. Her only condition- no one could see me.”

“Jody!” Dean suddenly remembered, then threw a finger towards Bobby. “You’re getting married?”

Bobby shuffled from one foot to another, almost looking nervous. “Yeah. I had that ring made for a while now, since before you left. And I meant to ask you before asking her… but she found it in the back pocket of my pants and well, the damn cat was out of the bag.”

Dean stared. 

Romantic proposal was one thing. He hadn’t really expected Bobby to put on fairy lights around the house and fill the front yard with rose petals, but the proposal could have been more than her accidentally stumbling upon the ring. Dean wanted to shake his head indulgently at Bobby’s complete and utter lack of romantic timing. Maybe Jody liked that sort of spontaneous thing. Who knew? 

There was something in Bobby’s words that stopped Dean from acting upon his amusement.

“You said you wanted to ask me?” Dean asked flatly.

Bobby looked even more nervous if that was possible. “It is your home, Dean. I wanted to ask you if it was alright with you.” He looked at Dean with a worried expression.

This time Dean really did shake his head. “Bobby, you crazy old man,” Dean laughed. “Of course I’m happy for you. Jody is a badass.”

Bobby’s eyes softened, and his shoulders relaxed. “She wanted you to know, too. Said it didn’t count as engagement if you weren’t in on it.”

The tears had just subsided, but Dean’s throat burned with them again. 

“Bobby,” he said, his voice rough. “You getting married to Jody would be the best damn thing to happen to our home.”

Bobby beamed. His whole face lit up, and for a second Dean could almost feel the homely warmth of Bobby’s kitchen in the cold, dusty barnhouse. Then Bobby’s smile slid.

“What’re you doing here, kid?” Bobby asked, his face screwing up in his classic frown. He always tried to look annoyed when he was feeling something, Dean remembered fondly. “Come home. The place feels just like an empty car dump without you annoying my gourd,” he said pointing to his head.

Dean wanted to smile at Bobby’s attempt to lighten the tone, though it didn’t take a keen eye to see the wetness of his lashes, hear the gruffness of his voice.

“Sam…” Dean started.

“Sam’s… Sam’s a ghost story, Dean!” Bobby almost gasped, as if he’d tried too hard to not say those words, but they had escaped him anyway. Dean’s heart seemed to crack just a bit. He could see that Bobby loved him. Like his own son. But for Bobby, Sam was still his friend’s son, who was lost. He had no connection to Sam whatsoever. 

All these years, through hot grizzly afternoons and through cold shivery winter nights, that blood bond was what had kept Dean awake, picturing horrors that might have been happening to his brother who was still out there somewhere. Who knew? Maybe waiting for his older brother. Dean had held on to it, steadfast, never giving up. But somewhere through the years, Bobby had.

Dean didn’t begrudge Bobby the non-attachment, but if only he understood that finding Sam was the purpose of life for Dean, especially now that there was a ray of hope, now that he was so close to discovering the truth.

Perhaps Bobby understood too well, because he put his hand on Dean’s shoulder. “Shouldn’t have said that,” he sighed. “I’m sorry. I just worry about you.” His eyes roved over Dean’s face. “Look at all of his,” he gestured vaguely at the bruises. 

“It’s nothing, Bobby,”

“Exactly!” Bobby pointed out. “It could get so much worse.” But something about Dean’s look made Bobby’s shoulders slump. It was clear that Dean wasn’t going to give up on this.

With a resigned gesture of his arms, Bobby turned around and produced a wooden box from behind. The box wasn’t ornate but, the rosewood exterior had a pristine quality to it, as if the box had been in existence since a long, long time.

“Here.” Bobby’s voice was heavy, and his eyes had that look… the one that made him look older than he was. “Take it.”

“What is it?” Dean asked, running his fingers over the rough exterior of the dark wood. 

Bobby didn’t answer, and Dean clicked the lock on it. The lid opened easily enough. Inside was a collection of mismatched things. There was a small knife, a little charm bracelet, a figurine of a peaceful looking baby angel and among other things a bundle of photos. Images after images of his family… of faces that he was afraid he was beginning to forget. Photographs from his parents' wedding, in front of their lawn, from his childhood, dad hugging mom in front of a sleek black car.

“Your dad loved that thing,” Bobby murmured, but Dean barely paid attention. He was hungrily flipping through the bundle, his hands shaking. At the very end, there were pictures of a small baby, clicked in a series. Small chubby hands held out, rosy cheeks, light brown hair and a laugh that seemed to reach out of the picture itself. 

Dean didn’t know whether to simply keep looking at the picture- because at this point his eyes were simply devouring it- or shut the box, just so he could control his feelings, get a grip on his wildly failing heart.

“Where?” he stammered, shutting the box as the later instinct won. “Where did you find these?” Even to his own ears, Dean’s voice sounded strangled.

“I’ve always had them,” Bobby said, then gauging Dean’s outrage quickly added, “I wanted you to move on, Dean. When you first came to live with me, you didn’t talk for half a year. It was like living with a shadow. I didn’t want you to get lost in the past and never resurface from whatever goddamned dark depth you had fallen into. And then when you started talking, and it looked like you were finally going to get a childhood, I didn’t want you to lose yourself in a false hope.”

“So you never gave these to me?” Dean glared. He could feel the blood rising to his face, his fingers balling into fists.

Bobby squared his shoulders. “Damn right I never gave you those. And I won’t feel sorry for hoping that you’d give up on the crazy mission to find Sam. You were just a kid, Dean. You still are, and from what I knew, I truly believed Sam was lost.” His voice cracked.

Just like that Dean felt all the anger leave him, his body deflating. Suddenly he felt tired, bone weary. His legs gave out from under him and he collapsed onto a dusty trunk. What was the point of being mad? It was not like Bobby had kept his childhood from him. Dean still had his mother’s picture by the side of his bed. His dad’s first sawed off and baseball glove on the wall. He’d always had mementos to remember his parents by. The only things new were Sam’s pictures. And what was even the point in blaming Bobby. All he wanted was to help Dean. Besides, Bobby had left no stone unturned in his time to find Sam.

“Why are you giving this to me now?” Dean asked, head bent low, all energy simply draining out of him.

Bobby lowered himself to Dean’s level, hand back on his shoulders, “Because now it might actually help you.”

Dean couldn’t help himself. He flung his arms around Bobby once more. This was more hugging than maybe all of their time together, but Dean simply didn’t care. “I can’t wait to be back,” he admitted, his voice muffled against Bobby’s shoulder.

Bobby chuckled dryly. “Can’t wait to have you back either, kid.”

After a moment he let go, patting Dean’s back in quick succession. “You still remember about the pager, right?”

Dean nodded, now slightly awkward. “I’ll send out a flare if there is ever an emergency.” Secretly Dean knew he wasn’t going to do it until he found Sam because that would mean an immediate rescue and permanent goodbye to this place.

Bobby gave him one more hard look, then nodded and walked out of the barnhouse. Goodbyes weren’t really his thing.

Dean knew that they couldn’t have left together, too much risk, so he waited for a few minutes, then slipped out, too, the box clutched tightly in his hands. He felt both lighthearted and also awfully homesick at the same time. So lost was he in his own feelings that he never noticed the shadow move from the side of the barnhouse where it had been lodged for a while now, and come face to face with him.

Dean ran headfirst into the wall of black, then staggered backwards.

“Benny!” he said, surprised as he looked into the shadowed face.

Benny’s face looked impassive, his eyes however were narrowed. “That police woman looked like she wanted to smother you in hugs.Your old man looks pretty solid and caring and alive. Care to tell me who is this Sam you’re looking for, Winchester?”

******************************

A/N 2: Please do tell me what you thought of the chapter? I live for comments!

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[malcolmwhitly-bright]

Yours, Mine...Ours

Chapter One: Uh-Oh

The cold blows harshly through New York City. It’s nipping temperature lowering steadily while the sun hides behind the thick clouds in the sky. A strong breeze sweeps through the city as Dani steps out of her apartment. It picks her thick curls off her shoulders. A single curl gets caught on her eyelash, a mild spike of painful itching distracting her from her mission. She’s frustrated, her nerves grated to their raw ends. She suspects that aggravation is not going to end soon.

“Detective,” Manuel greets from behind the counter. He spares her a hasty glance before looking back down at the textbook he has on the counter. She has known Manuel since the first week she moved into her apartment. Manuel’s father owns the convenience store as it was passed down from his father to him. Now, Manuel’s father hopes to pass it down to Manuel. Only, Manuel wants to be a teacher. Still, he spends every night, four p.m. to twelve a.m., working the shop. He hates it but his father means more to him than spending the weekend terrorizing the neighborhood with his friends.

Dani needs one thing. Masterfully, she glides along the aisles. She gets a tub of Ben & Jerry’s, brownie bits because it’s been a long and bad day. She deserves the brownie to ice cream ratio. That and, hopefully, Manuel will look over what she’s really here for. 

Pregnancy tests.

Manuel’s hand hovers over the box, his eyes glancing up at her. A silent, quick judgment on how far he can push her on the matter at hand. The matter <i>under</i> his hand. “You good,” he asks, placing both items in the same bag. He hadn’t seen Dani in some time but he knew well enough that she hadn’t been with anyone, seriously, since Estime. Unless, of course, the brownie bits Ben & Jerry’s counts. She’s always had a stable relationship there but it’s a bit one-sided.

Dani sighs heavily and wonders if she should unload her stresses on a seventeen-year-old with enough on his plate. She glances down at his textbook, math problems cover the waxy pages. Nodding, she retrieves the bag from the counter. “I’m good. Are you though? That looks pretty complex.” She motions to the textbook and Manuel’s eyes squint.

He nods, his mind no longer wrapped up on the pregnancy test. “It’s calculus,” he explains with a sigh. The low light of the shop enhancing the bags under their eyes, the tired bloodshot scleras. “It’s driving me crazy,” he adds, frowning down at the textbook. “I’ve got a test tomorrow.”

Dani hums, shaking her head. She doesn’t miss high school. “I’ll leave you to that.” He smiles at her and she feels his eyes on her as she leaves. As she climbs the stairs back to her apartment, she realizes she’s got a test too and for the first time in her life she’s not sure if she wants to pass it or not.

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

She locks her apartment door behind her. Stopping only at the refrigerator to collect a half-finished Gatorade. It had been in the fridge for… well, she’s not sure but she’s hoping it’ll speed this process on rather quickly. 

One line.

She holds the test in one hand, head tilted. “Oh,” she chuckles, but deep down this doesn’t feel right. It feels too easy. “That’s too good to be true.” So, in pajamas, she goes back down to the corner. She buys more tests and more Gatorade, Manuel doesn’t comment. 

“This better work.” She pees on her hand a little and it’s disgusting. Then she thinks about a baby. The amount of pee and poop she’s going to get all over her hands if she’s pregnant. Five minutes pass and two lines show up. She throws the test against the wall. It breaks in half with a satisfying crack.

With her knees drawn to her chest, she sobs into her knees. She loses track of time before she stands back up. Pulling her hair into a loose bun, she drinks another Gatorade, preparing for another test.

Just to be sure.

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

“These are probably better,”  Manuel holds up a bottle of prenatal vitamins. They’re pink, unlike the blue bottle Dani is reading the back of. “I did… some research.” The comment slips right past Dani, she’s caught up more in why there are so many options. She takes the bottle from Manuel and puts in her little basket. “Have you gone to the doctor yet,” he asks.

She frowns, she’d read some blogs. Mostly, she’s looked at corporate women in business breaking down how to hide a baby bump in each trimester. She hadn’t thought about the doctors yet, not once. She can’t help the blush that creeps up her cheeks,” uh no.”

Manuel frowns but doesn’t say anything. 

“So, how’d that test go?” He steps out of the way and allows her better access to the end of the aisle. She needs to pick up healthier snacks, things to keep the babu healthy and a few of the extra ‘baby pounds’ off. 

Manuel grins at her,” about as well as yours.” She ignores his comment and he fills her in. “I got an A- but considering the class is mostly self-taught, I’m counting it as a win.” His proud little smirk melts her heart and she wonders how she’s going to pass the next few months with raging hormones. “How are… your things?”

She elects to ignore his little in tone, the inclination that he’s talking about any one of the hundred problems she has right now. Especially, the ones she told him about while tipsy on box wine three months ago. More so, the one growing in her right now. “I’m fine, Manuel.” Except she’s not. She isn’t going to tell him that though. “Ring me up?”

He looks defeat, probably hoping those raging hormones would loosen her tongue a bit. No such luck.

“Be good,” she says as she leaves him. She rolls her eyes towards the sky, what a little shit.

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

“You okay?” The small tilt of Malcolm’s head gives away that he already knows the right answer. His eyes are stupidly blue and full of compassion and genuine interest. It makes her stomach tie itself into tight little knots. Her chest feeling cracked, nearly broken as her heart races. “You don’t look like you feel well,” he adds.

She doesn’t feel good. Her mother called last night and that call ended in mutual tears and a frustrated goodbye. There’s a box of positive pregnancy tests in her bathroom. Estime won’t pick up her calls and now Malcolm�� Well, he’s looking at her with those stupidly, adorable blue eyes all concerned and caring and it’s not helping. “It’s been,” she considers lying. Then she remembers that little head tilt and knows there’s no point. “I’m exhausted and this case isn’t helping.”

He sighs in agreeance, settling himself on the edge of her desk. “Wanna talk about,” he offers but it’s like bait. He’s luring her in, even if he is genuinely interested. A part of her does want to tell him. To unload all this weight she’s carrying but she hasn’t even told her mother about the baby yet. If anything, her mother and JT should know before Malcolm does. 

Right?

She pulls herself to her feet, stuffing her paperwork back into its manilla folder. She glances at him only once, knowing her mouth will come unglued if she looks too long or spares a second glance. Those blue eyes will get to her. Remind her that he cares, that he’s more than willing to let her air her dirty laundry. Why does he have to be so damn charming?

“You okay?” He seems to be asking her that a lot lately. 

“I’ll be right back,” her tight smile doesn’t bid well with him. It… it isn’t right. Dani’s smile makes the skin around her eyes lift and crinkle. It’s contagious to everyone in the room. The corner of the right side of her face always lifts a little higher than the left, crooked. This smile was forced, it wasn’t real.

She comes back from the bathroom ten minutes later. Malcolm notices how ginger she is with her stomach, a hand half raised to protect it. His mind races to fill in the problem, the anxiety and concern eating his own stomach away. She’s not okay and she’s lying. Dani never lies, at least not to him. It’s like, around him, she says every thought that happens to cross her mind. She leans into him, his touches. Of late, she’s silent and avoidant. 

Has he done something?

“She was twenty-four,” Edrisa hands them the paperwork. The killer had brutally torn apart a young woman, defiling her in such a way that made her unrecognizable. Leaving Edrisa to put her back together and take hair follicles to give their young victim a name. “Her name was Samantha Hinegrad,” Edrisa hands Gil a picture so he can pin it to their board. “She was a mother of two.”

The sudden paleness of Dani’s features all makes sense. The wrist she keeps pressed to her lower stomach, the long bathroom breaks, and the near gag at lunch when JT reheated eggs. “You’re pregnant,” the words leave his mouth softly. It’s still an accusation and they all know who at. 

All eyes turn to Dani, her paler getting suddenly worse. “W-What?” 

They both stutter. JT’s face is a cloud of mixed emotion, aggravation and confusion. It makes Malcolm uneasy, suddenly thrown off. It does the same to Dani. She stands too quickly, her stomach hurting and she knows another bout of morning sickness is washing over her.

She’s hurt, too. Naive hope had left her to believe she could do this on her own. She could keep it her little secret. It would be easy, she coached herself each morning. Just as easy as getting knocked up in the first place. Then, she had to put up her tighter fitting t-shirts, a perfect little bump protruding from her favorite. Each week, was a little harder than the one before. 

Then there was the morning sickness. That was new to this week and whoever dubbed it ‘morning’ sickness was a cruel, mistaken bastard. 

Her chair falls over as she rushes to the bathroom. She falls to her knees, hard. Nothing comes up because she hasn’t eaten since this morning. She threw up what little of the bagel she could get down. Miserable, she leans against the toilet. Letting the cool porcelain touch the bare skin where her shirt has risen up.

“Here,” warmth. Something warm is pressed into her palm and she realizes its a heating pad. A hand eases it’s way around her torso, pressing it to her stomach. The room smells of Irish Spring and fruit. Malcolm. “Have you eaten?” She allows him to pull her away from the toilet, leaning back against his boney chest instead. She shakes her head. 

He hums thoughtfully. His sensitive stomach finally coming in handy for something. “Let’s get you off the floor, yeah?” He eases her up, bearing her weight as her knees tremble underneath her. “How about some Gatorade and saltines?”

She nods her head, resigning herself to being taken care of. 

“You okay?” Gil and JT are waiting just outside the doors. She wonders if they fought over who would come in to check on her. When neither step forward to peel her away from Malcolm’s side, she has her answer. 

Malcolm mumbles something but her attention is split. She only feels the deep rattle of his voice in his chest. “Alright,” he leads her to her chair not moving away until she’s completely settled. “Saltines and Gatorade, you need or want anything else?”

 As he looks at her, crouched down on his knees she has to force her tears at bay. She can’t do this alone, she realizes. She doesn’t have to either. Malcolm smiles at her as he rises back to his feet, heading for his coat to head out into the cold, for her. JT and Gil keep nearby too, sparing her glances and small smiles. 

She’s got a family. Her baby will have one too. 

(When you could have posted this nearly three hours ago but instead have a tiny meltdown because you retook the Myers Briggs and went from an ENTP to an ENFP)

[hanzi83]

The Last 24 Hours

I am going to try and describe what my last 24 hours has been for me mentally. What I envision is something really compelling with a foray of intelligent sounding words to make the point much more adequate than usual, but knowing me, I have all the confidence when speaking to the voices in my head, and for the most part I fucking kill. They are howling the entire time, but it is a lot different when you have to write it down and think some type of beauty will be written of this madness that is in my head, but it always ends up regurgitating the same nonsense I always spew, because I have a severe victim complex, whether it is justified or not, it isn’t a good look and something in my head won’t stop me from going down this path of negative thoughts full of jealousy, bitterness, and being scared.

I am in a better place where I can convey my thoughts and actions to show you the harsh realities of how a mentally ill person displays in their daily lives, and for the most part it comes at my own detriment due to how I am in a “I don’t give a fuck” mode and then immediately regret what I say because I made the mistake of letting myself be taken in by darkness and then there is no stopping the process

I have a sloppy sleep schedule, and it has been evident since after high school, and even when I was in high school I barely got 5 hours of sleep because I would always be watching television and waiting to interact with friends because the beginning stages of social media were taking off with ICQ or MSN, and being obsessed with staying online to talk to chicks I would barely be able to approach, but then around 2004 or so I would stay off the internet unless it was to check news or something, and if something viral happened I would eventually see that, but after high school my internet presence died down, and then when the seeking of the fame and getting my name out there, I made the mistake by getting involved with the internet. While there have been positives to this obviously, by gaining a small fan base, I have not been able to figure out how to make it work for me, and it was a reminder why I left the internet in the first place because everyone is just so mean, and that is me included.

I figured out that this was done by design to make us obsessed with every post you make and watching what other people do, mixed with my mental illness, those calculations don’t give you a result that you want. Then you want to add more to the math, let’s throw in some square root, quadratic equations, and geometry mixed in with the already simple math formula in my life ( I think I tried too hard with this one, I wanted to sound smart by incorporating calculations of things you cannot literally calculate and then threw in some forms of math that we have to learn, and I am sure to most smart people those forms of math I listed out are probably not hard, I should have thrown in some Calculus or some shit, but this is why I remain a failure). To me it became evident that once my conspiracy theory brain was sparked with how the online stuff actually works, where people are getting paid to harass people, or shill out for the systemic narrative that exists. It is like the internet became the mainstream outlet, which is funny because the internet talks about how Mainstream Media is the propaganda.  I have been on this for the past decade and never really taking a break. You want to be caught up with everything so you can incorporate references into any conversation or act, because that is where conversations were going in social situations. I feel I need to be taking things in and absorb it all and in the midst to all that, I have not been able to retain names, events, certain narratives, etc. I can barely articulate my point and then because I am also riddled with anger because people in my life have gotten their perks of free technology, free concert tickets, sporting events, and basically just being an important part of society behind the scenes, and people will just dismiss that this kind of exists, even though it is evident that there are coups constantly taking place and then being revealed.

I was up for 24 hours and the more I am awake the more I am in trouble mentally because it was like I was up and I had to be thinking because I am constantly worrying about having enough material or being able to organize it better in my fucking head, and then I am faced with a hypothetical after hypothetical about how things could played out and what secrets are people keeping from me. It feels like my voice is being suppressed and when people do have interaction with me, it seems like they just want to make me feel like shit and especially when it has to do with geopolitical shit taking place, and the fucked up thing I can’t retain what is even happening, or the history involving it fully. I know the official narratives have always been the lie, even if who they are pointing at as the enemy to be the bad guy.

It is becoming evident something is going to eventually happen and because we live in a world where people don’t buy the media hype, because through entertainment, whether it was justified or not, we have been trained to think the media just lies constantly and even if that is true with the narratives, there is something real about what is being said, they are overhyping something so much, and since we are at an all time high of not trusting the media, something involving the parties they keep mentioning will happen where something severe will go down. I know under other presidencies this stuff happened, and it is infuriating that people act like this is just the first time this kind of shit has been happening, it is by design because Trump’s presidency symbolizes that we are the end of times where it is becoming organized chaos,  which is why people are going nuts with the hysteria, but to me this has all been by design because Trump, symbolically, will be what is referred to as “things will get worse” in the “before they can get better” saying and it feels like we are getting closer and closer to it. And because the media and comedians etc just focus on every little thing that involves Trump, whether it be his eating habits, hair, his horrible tanned skin and countless Trump impressions, they are making it come across like it is beating a dead horse, but when we least expect it something will eventually happen,

Yesterday that was the feeling I had when these airstrikes happened because we are at the brink of another all out war, and it might seem like media hype at times, but it just makes me angry with my life that we are almost at war and I barely have been able to go out and live life and I might never because even though people say 34 is still young, I feel ancient. I have been grump and moody since being a kid, so it feels like I have been here for 60 years. Then a sudden burst of negativity hit me and how much people in my life have kept from me, whether it has been for my protection, or whether they got to do all this cool shit behind my back, and then if I get vindicated, I know they will pretend that they didn’t get to do that cool shit. I can see it play it out.

I have been a pariah here when I blew up on the Stern Show because I adopted his way of thinking, or what I bought into from on the surface, and I applied that in my real life, even if it meant killing off friendships and potential relationships because I wanted to be mister negative and looked for a reason to be because people gravitated towards that and it seemed like the realest shit, and now that I have discovered that is as much propaganda as people point out about the overly PC left with being nice to everyone, and in presentation it seems pretentious, but people automatically being racist, misogynistic, homophobic, or just being ignorant to other people’s plight. I have to say mean shit when I am irrational, and because people hooking up does affect people’s favoritism in this world, it has become suspect to me, even though it isn’t any of my business. Even if we are evolving and seeming to be progressing, it bothers me that things still run on sex and then pretending they are not doing that. You will shame people for the way they talk at times, but behind the scenes you are using sex to your advantage or to advance someone’s career, and sometimes I get upset and I will point that out about men and women in a harsh way. It is more a shot at how I perceive the system runs.

I would feel at ease if I just died off, and before people roll their eyes or become overly empathetic with it, maybe it is just shit talk, but because I feel I serve no purpose, only behind the scenes, because most people I know who need me alive, need it for their own gain, and if that didn’t exist behind the scenes, then I would have been dead a long time ago. I look at what my last decade was like, and I named off things that have occurred to me since becoming “famous” and everything people I know obtained, and it just depresses me. A lot of it is my fault, I won’t lie, but sometimes I think the system puts specific people through these things, like putting them on medication where appetite increases, the organized harassment online leading to more of my mental illness getting at this of an extreme, the paranoia of not trusting your own friends or family. It scares the fuck out of me that someday I could be gotten by some of these people because they will get revenge for being this irrational asshole. Clearly they were never there for just me, they wanted to become personalities on their own and the fact that they never brought it out before, and just come out of the blue with it, it angers me because they are already cosigned by the system and I can barely get a break and I have been putting out blogs, social media posts, videos, multiple podcast appearances, and nothing can seem to go right because whatever I do, I assume Stern is throwing wrenches in a bunch of my predicaments, and has the luxury of having the power to drive the narrative that I am just crazy. It feels like it is never ending and I will always be in this continuous predicament and do to my mental illness, I will never trust anyone or anything.

It is a sad state of affairs. That is why at certain times I am fucking losing my mind and hate the fact that I am negative about shit and every time I post something with every word or every rant, I immediately feel bad because sometimes I can be the biggest asshole, especially when racist assholes show up at times to get the better of me. I don’t know why all these Trump supporters follow my page. Unless they are paid by the show to show up, I don’t get why you why you want to endure posts from an anti imperialist intervention type of a dude, who might speak from his emotions rather than his brain. The thing is I am supposed to be irrelevant, but you don’t point out irrelevant people are irrelevant. They should be irrelevant that you don’t even acknowledge it.

By the way I am posting this as a blog and when I do that I turn the WIFI off because I feel being on the internet makes it easier for them to hack my computer and have access to this, and much to my chagrin they made their presence known, even being disconnected from the internet, but I left for a second to go get something to eat, and when I returned, I was connected to the internet. It is weird. It is like they interfere with things that are supposed to be my private time. I then start thinking of who it could potentially be, whether it be trolls, stern show affiliates, government agencies, my own friends, or some other industry assholes who are sociopaths and have the power to fuck with people’s lives and not face any consequences.

I was just going to keep this as a journal entry but now I am inclined to write this as a blog and even though it won’t be acknowledged or even addressed in any way, they will continue to fuck with me and try to break my illness into further deteriorating. I just wish I could prove it, and I can’t, and if I could prove it, I would be dead by now, and this is why they let me talk a bit, because they already know people will not take this seriously and any small thing I do or say, people will use it against me when they see it to get at me. It is disturbing how much effort is being put into this, and how they have the vast majority fooled, even the ones who seem the most socially conscious about shit, so none of these people want to believe this, whether they are unwillingly ignorant, willingly ignorant, or people just afraid of speaking up because they are so ingrained into the system, they cannot say a word. I feel I am fighting this imaginary battle all on my own.

[purplesurveys]

191

Do you ever have days where you just don’t do anything? Yes, and today is going to be one of them. Have you ever been extremely tired but refused to go to sleep? I usually do this when I know I have work to do that I have to stay up for. Otherwise when I know I’m tired, I go straight to bed. What is your favorite episode of True Life, if you have one at all? I’ve never seen it. I’m positive I don’t even know what it’s all about. Have you ever experienced something paranormal? I have. Just once, but I like to attribute it to just my grandfather fooling around. What’s the longest amount of time you’ve been stuck in traffic? In Metro Manila there is no just one time that would win for longest. It’s a competition everyday, thanks to our wonderfully inadequate traffic and road system.

Best field trip experience? Going to the Ayala Museum and the Mind Museum in freshman year of high school. My classmates did not know shit about museum etiquette and it was mortifying for the staff, but I enjoyed nonetheless. Have you ever been to New York City? Nope. If so, is it all it’s cracked up to be? What is the most amount of money you’ve spent on a meal before? By myself, it would probably be around ₱500 for a single pasta dish. We live on a college budget so that’s actually spending too much already, but I didn’t regret it since it was for our anniversary hah. What museums have you visited, if any? Too many to count. We went to a lot of museums in different field trips, but I’ve also gone to several ones out of town and the country. Have you ever had a group project and one of your partners bailed on you? Just about always. What’s your worst traveling experience? Chinese people are generally rude, at least from my experience. My dad brought me on a luxury liner cruise for my 18th birthday, but I didn’t know majority of the boarders were Chinese passengers. They were rude, talked about me OPENLY and I knew that because they had their eyes on and were pointing at me, and didn’t know any restaurant manners. They also can’t seem to line up all behaved. I forgive it though; it’s because of their culture that they are the way they are, but I guess it just doesn’t suit with my Filipino ways. Have you ever dealt with noisy neighbors or roommates? How did that go? Yes, I had noisy neighbors from before. I couldn’t really do anything about it since the kids were older than me and looked like they could beat me up. Thankfully they moved, though. Hahaha. Who was (or is) the teacher that gave you the hardest time in school? Ms. Belen made sure I was miserable in fourth grade. Best muffin you’ve ever had? Chocolate chip muffins from S&R. Have you ever taken a woodshop class? No thank you. If so, was it required? We don’t even have it in our curriculum. How much time do you spend on Facebook, if you have one? I guess a maximum of 20 minutes a day, and most of that is because all of my group chats are there and are constantly updated. What area of math are you best at? Worst? I’m pretty good in advanced algebra, statistics, geometry as long it has nothing to do with irregular shapes, and basic trigonometry. I hate advanced trig and calculus. I barely passed senior year math. How do you feel when you meet someone with the same music taste as you? It’s cool but ultimately not that mind-blowing. In the end our relationship (or lack thereof) would still be determined by if their personality is compatible with mine. What is the strangest thing you’ve ever seen outside of your house? My neighborhood is literally the most boring place. The only thing missing is a tumbleweed rolling about. Do you believe in luck? Why or why not? In the words of CM Punk, luck is for losers. How often do you “half-ass” things (put little effort in)? If I absolutely HATE a subject and know that the prof won’t bother to read the 15-page paper assignment they give to their students. Do you ever feel self-conscious when you eat around other people? Only when I’m at invited at lunch or dinner at a friend’s house. I never feel like I deserve to be there so I eat very little even though I always want more. Has a teacher ever made you hate yourself/your work? Oh yeah. One of my journ profs gave me a 3/20 on one of my papers a while back. Made my doubt my major instantly. Until now I struggle to re-embrace journalism because of her. How reliable is your internet connection? I mean it’s very good, but only when you talk about the average internet speed in the country. Start comparing it to other countries’ and it’ll start feeling like the slowest thing. I heard the internet in the US is so fast the pages don’t even load anymore and the new page just appears in front of you right as you click it. That to me is the coolest thing. Have you ever missed a meeting/event that was required/necessary? Never. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. What’s something that makes you incredibly nervous? Public speaking in Filipino. No matter how long I prepare, I never feel fully ready. What’s the latest you’ve ever stayed up to finish homework/a project? All night :---) All thanks to my lovely groupmates who would rather rush a major project overnight despite being given two weeks to work! If you don’t have glasses, how would you feel if you had to get them? I do have glasses. If you do have glasses, how would you feel if you didn’t need them anymore? I’d feel meh. I’m kind of attached to my glasses. But I guess I’d also feel relief because at least I can wear sunglasses without fucking up my vision and I could lie on my side in bed without having my glasses in weird angles anymore. How many vegetarians do you know? I know Katreen’s sister is vegetarian. Have you ever considered going to art school? Never. Is there anyone in your life who consistently angers you? Sure is. What is the worst thunderstorm you’ve experienced? Typhoon Ondoy, known internationally as Ketsana. Now my neighborhood never floods up, but during that time the waters entered our home around knee-deep on the first floor; it was that bad. Our old house suffered much worse–the neighborhood there wasn’t built for floods so the waters came up until the second floor. All my relatives were stuck in the attic for a while. How quickly can you write an essay? Fairly quick. Essays are my specialty. Have you ever had problems falling asleep in class? Never. I hate being reprimanded by a teacher so the classroom is one place I never fall asleep in. Have you ever been on the barrier or front row at a concert? Never, but I hope to be! I’m getting VIP tickets for Paramore next year and I’m going all out for it. If you have a job, who is your least favorite coworker/manager? Favorite episode of Spongebob? The Campfire Song song, The Indoors song, and Best Day Ever. Do you have any silly/odd emotional connections to anything/anyone? With several people. What bug frightens you most? Cockroaches. I had to live with flying ones in one of our old houses so that really helped in building up my current roach phobia. Are your parents supportive of you? When it comes to my major, yep. Everything else not so much. How often do you take the train to go places? Never. Do you play with your phone in awkward situations? That’s what I always want to turn to but I find it rude, so I make it a point to talk to the person I’m with. Have you ever participated in a mock trial, or a real trial? No.