#i physically Have to put on an act around customers because I am an Asshole

[artemisegeria]

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Hotel

I’m on a writing roll today. A while ago I started a fic about the Four Seasons Total Landscaping press conference, prompted by a Tumblr post. I finally finished it.

I hope you enjoy. Rated M (mostly for safety), some language and talking about sex-related things. 

It’s Scarlet Vision, of course. 

A/N: Inspired by the absurdity of 2020 and the end of the Trump administration. I saw a Tumblr post saying sexshop owner/landscaper should be the hot new AU, and I could not resist. I, of course, have no inside knowledge on how the Four Seasons Total Landscaping situation really went down, and my version of events is apparently quite different from what really happened, but this is one way I could imagine it happening in a similar world.

If you have no idea what I’m talking about, I recommend looking it up. The original events make a great story.

The phone rang. Wanda grumbled but picked it up. She hated being interrupted in the middle of her accounting; it always made her lose her train of thought. “Four Seasons. Wanda speaking.”

“I want to reserve the space for a press conference this Saturday.”

At first, Wanda thought this might be a prank call. Normally she would just hang up, but she was pissed off at being interrupted. “I don’t have time for this today, asshole.”

“Do you know who you’re talking to? I work for the leader of the free world. Know your place.”

Insults aside, now she was truly confused. “You want to reserve a space here? For a presidential press conference?”

“Yes, of course, I do. This is the Four Seasons. It’s the perfect place for a press conference. Now help me reserve a space or I will have your job when I talk to your manager.”

Oh. It all made sense now. This was not the first time Wanda’s business had been mistaken for the hotel. She would be lying if she denied that part of the reason she chose the name was for the association with the prestigious brand. But, since this guy was being a jerk, she decided to take advantage of his mistake.

Wanda put on her best act. “Oh, I’m so sorry. It was my error entirely. I’ll make the reservation right away. I will reserve the space for the whole day. Only $500 for the entire day.”

“Fine, we’ll bring payment on the day.”

“I assume you want a podium and chairs set up?”

“Of course, you idiot. That better be included in the price.”

“Absolutely, sir.”

“Good. I guess you can keep your job for now.”

“Thank you for your generosity, sir. I truly appreciate it.”

He hung up without a word of farewell. It was all well and good because Wanda could hardly contain her mirth. She burst into laughter. Some time later, she finally thought to make the necessary preparations.

She walked next door to her boyfriend Vision’s shop. Wanda had never quite gotten used to his wares. Even though they enjoyed a bit of kinky sex from time to time, she still found it odd to see all the toys laid out in the open.

Fortunately, there were no customers at the moment. So when Vision emerged from the back, Wanda could lean over and draw him into a leisurely kiss.

She was gratified that he whined a bit when she pulled back. “Good afternoon, Wanda. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I just experienced one of the greatest moments of my life, aside from getting together with you, of course.” She sauntered around the counter to be closer to him. “And I had to share.”

“I am happy for you. What is this great experience?”

“You’ll never guess who just called me.”

“I don’t suppose I will.”

“Someone from the President’s office.”

“The president of what?” The adorable furrow in his brow that Wanda loved to bring out appeared.

“Of the United Fucking States!”

“What? I do not understand.”

“They thought I was the hotel.”

“Oh. Oh.” It took several moments for the reality of the situation to fully sink in. “That is remarkable. What did you say?”

“I agreed to set up a press conference for them. I only need to find some chairs and a podium.”

“And I presume they have no idea about the mistake?”

Wanda only smirked at him. She trailed her fingers over his chest. “My dearest lover, I was hoping you would do me a favor.”

He rested his hands on her hips. “You know I cannot deny you. What do you need?”

“Could you hold a sidewalk sale on the day?”

“Ah, yes. There is some old stock I would like to clear out. I am sure Natasha would love to volunteer her services as well.”

“Perfect.” It was all coming together.

A few phone calls later she had everything ready. The owner of the crematorium across the street had some connections with funeral parlors who were more than happy to help when they heard the story.

The fateful day arrived.

Vision and Natasha had dutifully laid out their wares. The table was full of dildoes, vibrators, handcuffs, and a number of other toys. Natasha was dressed in full dominatrix gear with a skintight leather corset and pants.

Wanda eagerly awaited the angry phone call when they arrived at the hotel and found there was no space for them. It came half an hour before she was expecting it. “Four Seasons Total Landscaping. Wanda speaking.”

The person on the other end sputtered for some moments before he choked out, “What kind of operation are you running? This is a big joke from the liberal elite. I arrived and someone told me that they had no record of our reservation and that no one named Wanda worked there.”

“That’s because you called the Four Seasons Hotel. Here at Four Seasons Total Landscaping, we are prepared to meet your press conference needs. Keep in mind that there is a $1000 cancellation fee for reneging on our deal with such short notice if you go elsewhere.”

The man held the phone away from his face. She could hear a stream of muffled cursing in the background. “One minute.” There was more cursing and several new voices. When he returned, he muttered, “We’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

Wanda put on her best false cheer. “We’ll be ready for you, sir.”

It actually took forty-five minutes for the line of black SUVs to approach the parking lot. The press started arriving about twenty-five minutes later. Their faces varied from confused to disgusted to holding back laughter.

When the president finally emerged, the reporters started flashing their cameras. He made his usual stream of nonsensical remarks, refused to answer questions, and was gone. Wanda could hardly suppress her sniggers when the Secret Service had to physically drag the president away from Natasha, who made a huge show of being disappointed.

Business was booming for the rest of the day. Wanda had not anticipated that bit of good fortune. Everyone wanted merch with the Four Seasons logo. So much so that she was selling shirts she usually reserved for her seasonal workers and putting names down on a waiting list.

When she finally closed down for the night, she noticed that Vision was enjoying a similar surge in business. There was still a line at closing time, so she helped ring the last few customers out.

Finally, they were alone, and Wanda could wrap her arms around his neck. “Well, that was quite a day.”

“It certainly was. I believe I did more business today than I have the entire previous month.”

“You’re welcome, then.”

He smiled down at her and drew her into a kiss. Wanda darted away after only a moment. Kissing was lovely, but she had other plans. “You mentioned the other day that you had some new stock. Anything you want to try out?”

“Oh, I may have a few things.” He led the way into the back room.

Wanda couldn’t help but grin a Cheshire cat grin. This would be the perfect ending to the day.

[imma-talk-back]

Yesterday, I was called a Nigger.  Within mere minutes of being in my favorite store, it happened.  Without warning, a gentleman bisected my path and seemingly reflexively blurted it out.  It was if the word had a life of its own and was pushing forth from his mouth at a full sprint. I say this not to emphasize the innocence of the man, but to shed light on the immense power of that word. 

Yeah... I thought that’d get your attention. 

Frankly, I’ve always been one to prefer Target to Walmart.  I appreciate the structure and organization of the store, and though I am a person who thrives in areas of “organized chaos”, I’m afraid, I find Walmart to be a little too chaotic for my liking.  As someone who suffers from The Big Bad Beast that is Anxiety, I experience a visceral uneasiness in certain environments, but generally speaking Target is one of few places I nearly always feel safe in.  There are of course the antsy customers who brush past me on occasion or ride my tail too closely in the checkout, but for the most part, to me, Target represents the epitome of comfortable shopping experiences.  It’s almost as if the structure demands it’s patrons to be on their best behavior.  Unfortunately, not everyone heed these demands... 

Please allow me to begin by laying the ground work; let me explain just how much effort I put into a simple trip to the market.  You see, one of the many awful things about this lovely condition that is Anxiety is that it has the potential to make even the most mundane tasks feel insurmountable.  A quick errand run the average person puts little thought into, can for someone like me, be a delicate tightrope walk; from the moment I leave the safety of my car and began my trek though the aimless herds of self-focused patrons, to the exact position of my body in accordance to yours, while in line.  I see you in a straight line, but I take several steps to the right or left, creating a meticulously crafted triangle between you and the person in front of me; all with the intention to grant me just a bit more security.  You see, I’ve been socially distancing since before COVID made it cool.  

Well, it’s about time I get to the point, isn’t it?  So, here goes...

So here I am.. and on top of dealing with my typical feelings of sporadic and unannounced paralyzing panic that may rise at any moment during my routine errand, whilst in the midst of none other than The Zombie Apocalypse that is 2020, I am the victim of an unprovoked physical attack in on of my few “safe” public spaces.  Notice, I consider this a physical attack, because of slew of negative bio-mechanical implications it presented me with, after all the word Nigger cannot be compared to that of Bitch, or Asshole. No, when spat with the right amount of hatred, the word surge through your veins like a poison. 

Thus, I instinctively stopped dead in my tracks and felt the heat of pain and rage radiate through my body.  I shook my head, dropped my gaze, and took several steps forward before stopping.  Rather than metaphorically quietly quivering in the corner, I decided to act. 

I turned around, sought out an employee, mustered up all the poise I could find, and collectedly said something along the lines of: “Hi, I just walked into the store, and within moments upon entering, a gentleman wearing a white blazer called me a Nigger.  I would very much like for him to be escorted out of the store”.  It was important that I used the full word to convey the level of discomfort I felt in having it thrown at me.  Perhaps that did the trick because the woman responded with a look of genuine shock, without hesitation confirmed the direction the man was walking towards, and urgently called for security. I said my peace and entrusted my safety in the store to the woman’s follow-through.  

It wasn’t the first time and I knew it wouldn’t be the last. I tried my best to continue on my journey as if he “hadn’t gotten to me”, but he had, I rush through the store, in search of whatever had prompted me to enter.  I can’t for the life of me remember, I imagine because I moved through the store in what can only be likened to a fear-induced haze.  I walked through the isles wondering if the gentleman would return and found myself looking at every Black passer-by, wondering if they had, or would soon experience the same. 

I power walked through the store with a combination of sorrow, profound fear, inexplicable anger, and incredible gratitude.  It instantly pained my heart to hear that a complete stranger could have so much hate in their’s for me, it still does.   Although I don’t imagine the N-word is typically equated with fear for non-Black people, for someone like me, it can be terrifying.  Despite the ever-so-obvious gravitas of that word, I know it hardly represents the tip of the iceberg of the hatred that lies below the surface.  As such, I feared retaliation from the moment I reported the gentleman, throughout the store, to my stop at the gym where I went through my daily workout routine, to the moment I drove home, parked my car, and double-checked the locks to all the doors at my house.  

Though this wasn’t the first time I’ve experienced this sort of overt display of hatred in a public setting, it was without a doubt, the first time I have ever felt seen enough to report it.  The death of George Floyd exposed just how serious the issue of racial injustice in this country is, and made it unmistakably clear just how prevalent, not to mention perilous it is.  After 34 years of just taking it, and doing everything in my power to “not let it get to me” or knowing “it’s just the way it is”, I finally feel seen enough to say; look this just happened, and you have the power to make it so this isn’t just how it is. 

You see prior to May 25, 2020, we could all live with a degree of ignorance in the matter; you could deny my life was actually different because of my skin tone and I could feign my perception of equality, but that shield has been lifted.  We have awakened from our socio-normative unconsciousness... That was deep, I know, but rather or not we choose to stay woke is up to us. The US needs a reckoning, regardless of if recent demands for equality stemming from the death of Mr. Floyd, Ms. Taylor, and Mr. Arbery can transition this moment into a movement, I am here to remind you of its importance.  You see, I was Black before you ever heard of those names and will continue to be such even when they began to fade from your memory.  I am here to remind you just how vital that demand for equality is.  

The fact of the matter is that the woman who essentially “came to my rescue” by respecting the seriousness of the matter was in shock not only the verbal brutality spewed, but also in part I imagine from simply awakening the reality that such an incident actually happened.  This brings me to my anger... you see I am beyond grateful for the fact that I can finally stand up for myself and declare something like this has happened and be taken seriously, but I am equally as enraged that in order to be taken as such, the entire world had to witness a man be crushed to death.  It goes without saying that, the level of enlightenment that the entire non POC (people of color) world is having right now is just as appreciated as it is enraging. 

On a final note, I want to draw your attention to the fact that I referred to the man who accosted me, as a gentleman.  There is certainly two contributing factors to consider in this; one I was simply raised right- with manners and respect for everyone, and I knew this man couldn’t have been in his right mind, and two, I knew the importance of remaining composed in even the most daring of times, to counter the very real likelihood of simply being written off as an Angry Black Woman.  Think about that... even in an assault, I must maintain my composure, because society says an emotional Black woman is an Angry Black woman, society doesn’t question her countless motives for said anger; no, it merely writes her off.  

Well... let this first blog entry be a testament to my Eloquent Black Rage--sitting posed, with perfect posture, well read, well spoken, highly educated in fact... with well manicured fingernails and an accented middle finger nodding to a less than subtle, “fuck you”. 

In close, I hope in writing this I have helped to explain the depth of feelings that stem from such a verbal attack, the long term impact it has, and that I have drawn your attention to just how often injustice occurs even when they are not spoken of or otherwise exposed. 

This is my very first Blog-entry, it originally started out as a wordy Facebook post, but decided I needed a more appropriate venue for my voice.  I sincerely thank you for reading and hope you continue to peek into my mind from time to time.  Congratulations, you’ve earned 10 Friend Points and good karma! 

[gamechangeroo]

Part 2/3

Click for Part 1/3

Or read ahead for Part 2, which is Chapter 1, because Part 1 was the Prologue. I acknowledge the pointless confusion.

Chapter 1: Should You Buy a New Moral Compass When the Magnetic Poles Switch?

It had been two weeks since Gintoki had been ‘knighted,’ and in that time span he had gained five kilograms, Shinpachi had gained two, and Kagura had only gained one, because, despite the fact that she was eating as much of the food as all the other moochers combined, she was a monster alien girl that would never have to worry about love handles. Ignoring the limits of physics, her body morphed food into energy with a ferocity similar to what one would find in the center of stars.

That is to say, excluding that one weight loss episode, Kagura consistently had a very high metabolism.

It is perhaps a strange way to start a Gintama story where food can no longer be a concern or motivating plot point, because the Yorozuya team now had any and all of it that they could ever need. One might venture to say it is stranger still that the dawn of a Gintama story breaks over a horizon where rent was also not a concern. Yet, by this time in the plot Gintoki had already convinced Otose to take their rent as an anytime, all-you-can-eat ticket to the Foryunthustoriphyxnarfyndalvnuduraqiualinoytfusian Embassy. With these two very large issues removed from the playing field, was there any motivation for Gintoki, Kagura, or Shinpachi to do anything? Would there be any growth or motion besides the outward growth of our heroes’ stomachs?!

Gintoki supplied his answer in a large, drawn-out belch, and lazily rubbed his newly accumulated belly fat. From his spot draped over one of the embassy settees he motioned vaguely to the other side of the room.

“Oi, Patsuan. Go buy me this week’s Jump!,” Gintoki managed to mumble through his food coma. As he moved his lips, a piece of beef that had been stuck to them slipped into his mouth. He chewed on it contentedly.

Kagura burped in response. “Shinpachi left hours ago, and I don’t think it was to buy Jump!.”

Cracking open his eyes for the first time since this chapter began, Gintoki peered around the banquet hall languidly. Shinpachi was indeed gone, and Kagura was still munching away at her place at the table as the Foryunthustoriphyxnarfyndalvnuduraqiualinoytfusian kitchen staff shimmered, glistened, and replaced plates here and there.

“He said if he stayed around here any longer,” Kagura continued, “he’d turn into a good-for-nothing deadbeat.”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with Hasegawa,” Gintoki defended his friend absentmindedly.

“Nobody was talking about me, Gin-san!” Hasegawa spoke up, mildly indignant. He sat across the table from Kagura, doing his best to keep on mooching on this food train, and, incidentally, had gained about 10 kilograms himself.

Ignoring the interjection, Gintoki suggested, “Why don’t you follow Shinpachi’s lead, Kagura-chan? Go out and see how the world has grown over the last two weeks. I’ve heard they changed the color palette, and the sky is turning from blue to brown.”

“Who cares about factory smog when I have factory-processed sausage right here?” Kagura asked, leisurely waving a link at Gintoki. “Go find your Jump! lackey somewhere else.”

Running his fingers through his perm in aggravation, Gintoki grumbled and debated the merits of standing up and walking to the convenience store, versus lying around and doing more nothing. Nothing really was very appealing.

However, after two weeks of nothing, its time had finally run out. It was at this moment that a Presence slid firmly into Gintoki’s brain. He blinked twice and shook his head wildly in an attempt to dislodge whatever it was from his mind and thoughts. He then whacked one ear, hoping it would pop out the other. Undeterred, the Presence poked around his mind with a sharp, callous intensity that was, frankly, incredibly annoying. It was bit like when customers come into clothing stores, throw the neatly hung up clothes carelessly off the racks, and expect the shopkeep to clean up after them without thought or concern.

To make matters worse, the Presence paused and encircled his thoughts about how walking to the convenience store to buy this week’s Jump! was too much effort. It hung there in silence, totally judging him.

“You don’t know my life!” He roared.  “Get out, you asshole!”

At this, a huge darkness fell over the hall. Actually, it wasn’t the whole hall, there was just someone looming over Gintoki. Yup, it sort of looked like Kagura when she was about to go in for the kill. He paled considerably as he realized what was about to happen.

“Uh, wait, K-k-kagura-ch-chan,” he flailed. “That wasn’t… I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to the thing in my head. Something’s in my head and judging me, so I told it to get out. I would never tell you to get out!”

Kagura halted her fist a mere hairsbreadth from Gintoki’s nose. She tilted her head to the side menacingly. Gintoki took that as an excuse to keep going.

“You… you see. All of a sudden, it just popped in there, and was looking down on me for not buying my own Jump!, which isn’t right at all! A man should have peace of mind in his own mind!”

“Not quite,” Hasegawa said through a mouthful of rice, with a small, jaded laugh. “When boys become men, even their minds have no peace.”

Kagura drew back her fist and stared quizzically at Gintoki. “Gin-chan is growing up?”

“He just grew a conscience, Kagura-san,” Hasegawa amended. “It means he can’t do anything fun anymore without feeling terrible about it.”

At this, Kagura’s face scrunched in concern, and she shook Gintoki wildly by the shoulders. “Is it true, Gin-chan?! Are you not going to come home drunk in the middle of the night anymore smelling of the scummiest parts of town?! Who will play midnight games of Five Finger Fillet with me now?”

In light of this new information, Gintoki blanched. What in the hell had Kagura been doing to him after he had blacked out on those nights?! Maybe a conscience could come in handy in having a heart to heart with Kagura about not playing evil night games with inebriated victims, but this new intruder stomping around in his head wasn’t a conscience.

“Stop putting stupid ideas in her head, Hasegawa,” Gintoki retorted. “The plot of my series is all about how I have a great conscience that orphaned children and crying women exploit to get me to save the day occasionally. It’s heartwarming, and people love it! I can’t grow what I’ve already got!”

“You’ve got it all wrong, Gin-san,” Hasegawa opined. “There are two types of consciences. The first type is the one you’ve always had: a hero’s conscience. That’s what gets Mario to save Princess Peach from Bowser all the time.

“The second type is a geezer’s conscience. That’s what makes Mario collect enough coins to pay for multiple life insurance policies, so his family knows they will be taken care of after he’s run into one too many Goombas. It’s an adult sense of responsibility, as the demands of society slowly crush his idealism and spirit.”

“Mario is such a caring hero!” Kagura enthused, spraying tofu in Hasegawa’s direction, as she settled herself back into her chair at the banquet table.

“Well, that depends on the player,” Hasegawa said with a knowing smile, and Kagura’s mouth shaped an ‘o’ of acknowledgment. A conversation about geezer consciences is where a Madao shines, after all.

“As for our Gin-san,” he continued, “his Player 1 has skipped all the coins on each level for so long that he doesn’t know what to do now that Player 1 is aiming for the life insurance policies.”

“Stop making profound statements using Mario!” Gintoki snapped. “And I am still skipping all my coins! I just head straight to Bowser, oi!”

Hasegawa just hmmed knowingly. The bastard. Look at him acting all high and mighty, while eating someone else’s food. What a terrible houseguest, who was stupid and wrong. Gintoki was the last person who would develop a geezer conscience. If there was another invasion of Earth where geezer consciences were aiming to occupy the heads of every human around, Gintoki would be once again on the front lines, but, instead of fighting Amanto, he would be fighting against the importance of mortgages and steady jobs.

“If you’re so sure, why don’t you ask your geezer conscience what it thinks of life insurance policies?” Hasegawa asked in challenge.

Gintoki narrowed his eyes, and dug into the side of the settee cushion to find a fork he had left there. He pointed it menacingly at Hasegawa. “It’s not a geezer conscience.”

“I bet it is,” Kagura chimed in again. “Or, if it isn’t, maybe it’s a brain parasite.”

Gintoki froze, a cold sweat sticking to his neck. He had not thought of that possibility. Could something have crawled into his head, and was now sucking away?! He did yank out a particularly big, green booger yesterday. Was that parasite poop?!

Though, come to think of it, he had not felt the Presence snooping around for a while. Maybe! Maybe it was gone! Maybe it leaked out somewhere! He focused his mind inward, poking around his own thoughts, and anxiously checking for any mental hitchhikers, while he dug around in his nose for any physical ones.

Just as he was about to breathe a sigh of relief, he found it. That thing. The parasite. It was there right in the back of his mind, at the bottom of his thoughts. It was just curled up in a deep mental corner, not really interacting with his head, but also definitely not out of it.

That’s it. Poor Gin-san was going to end up a drooling, brain-dead vegetable.

“Um. Hello. Excuse me,” he thought at it.

At his word-thoughts, the thing that was probably just about ready to suck his mind out through a straw stirred and came to life in his head. Gintoki could just tell somehow. It was more ‘there’ than it had been, even though it was not swirling all around his thoughts like it first had done. It was… to put it to words… paying attention.

“I was just, um, passing by in my head,” he thought as casually as he possibly could. “And I noticed you there doing your thing, and I was-I was wondering if you thought I should get a life insurance policy?”

His brain-parasite-death-machine appeared to consider the question, and he could tell the moment it seemed to scoff. It then pushed at Gintoki’s mind with a small pressure, which popped into his brain as a mental image. There stood Kagura and Shinpachi inheriting gambling debts and bar tabs from a dead Gintoki.

At this, Gintoki mentally laughed in borderline hysteria. “You’re right!” He thought shrilly. “The best I could do for those two brats is leave them as little as possible to clean up! How perceptive of you!!”

Catching his unstable tone, the cerebral terror seemed ready to push another image-thought at him, but Gintoki had had enough. He ran quickly from the depths of his own mind, resurfacing at the embassy with a heavy gasp.

Kagura and Hasegawa stared at him from the table.

“Gin-chan,” Kagura’s voice was uncertain, “are you-”

“I think I’m going to go out and get my Jump! after all!” Gintoki interrupted. “I just remembered the cliffhanger that happened last week. I need to know if Karbo was able to escape from Tommy’s Trial!”

He sped out of the room and zoomed out of the embassy before anyone could question him further. It was time to go to the hospital. They removed brain parasites right?

Gintoki asked this question at the front desk of the nearest emergency room. The nurses backed away and whispered to each other, as they stared at the bedraggled, permy man with a parasite in his brain. Patients in the waiting room made a dash for the exit, which was certainly the right move, as far as Gintoki was concerned. Who would want to stay in a room with a brain-sucking bug?! What if it multiplied and infected everyone?! What if the devil-bug made poor, innocent Gin-san go on a murdering spree?!

Gintoki asked these questions to the tired looking, old doctor who scanned his brain with this and that machine, and occasionally rubbed her chin hairs. After an hour of poking and prodding, the woman proclaimed him parasite-free, and threw him a bottle of pills to ‘make the voices go away.’

The fretful samurai wandered down the streets of Kabukicho in a near-delirious haze of nerves and fear. If the doctors could not find anything in his brain then what was this Thing?! Was it a parasite so crafty that even old doctors with notable amounts of chin hair could not spot it, or was it something else entirely? Should he actually be taking these pills? Was it too late to get a life insurance policy?

Gintoki asked these questions to the barkeep, as he downed his third and fourth beers. He just knew the solution to all of this was waiting at the bottom of one of these glasses, or he could just get drunk enough so that none of it really mattered, waking up the next morning missing a couple digits from an inebriated attempt at Five Finger Fillet a la Kagura.

By his eighth beer, he had enough liquid courage to sink back into his own head and once again confront the beast within.

“Oi,” he thought-yelled. “Bastard!”

The parasite-horror, which had been keeping to itself without any direct interaction from Gintoki, rose up. It pushed back defensively against his anger, as if to say ‘What’s your problem, asshole?’

“You can’t just set up camp in someone’s head when you feel like it! Get the hell out!”

The eldritch monster seemed confused at the accusation. It wobbled about, and poked at the surface of Gintoki’s thoughts. Finally, it pushed an image of its own toward him. The scene popped into his head as him leaving the bar and going home to bed.

“There are enough bouncers in real life, without you acting as one in my head you… you! Whatever you are. What gives you the right to tell me to go to bed when you’re probably just going to suck out my brain when I sleep, huuuh?”

Gintoki’s parasite seemed even more flummoxed by these words. It swirled to and fro, attaching to thought after thought running through Gintoki’s mind until it finally settled around Gintoki’s suspicions about itself. As it realized that the mind it was squatting in thought it to be a parasite, the parasite had the nerve to get extremely exasperated. It roughly pushed an image toward Gintoki, which he mentally squinted at crankily.

There was a yellow book with a weird pair of brown, long somethings on the cover playing with a beach ball.  There were too many limbs for just two creatures, and was that a lightsaber?

A moment of heavy silence descended in Gintoki’s mind.

Seconds passed, until another image was furiously flung into his noggin. This time, it showed himself reading that yellow book, a look of dawning comprehension spreading across his features, as his scanned the words.

“So you’re telling me if I read this book about Jar Jar Bink’s summer vacation, you shitting on my brain will make sense?” Gintoki asked, starting to wonder if he had actually had a little too much to drink.

In response, his head-creature slapped another snapshot of the book at his mind’s eye with an aura of supreme pissed-offedness.

“Fine!” he shouted, fiercely ignoring the bartender pleading with him to stop making a scene all by himself. “I get it. Everything will be fine if I flip through this book! I’ll go do that immediately, Grand Supreme Parasite-sama! Post haste!”

…

“So you see,” Gintoki explained to the cashier at the 24 hour convenience store, as the night neared the 24th hour, “I need a yellow book with things playing with a beach ball on the front cover.”

The parasite was writhing in anger and exasperation. It punched an image of a convenience store with a red X through it toward Gintoki.

“Now, now, parasite-kun,” Gintoki mentally chided. “Have a little faith in the host you are munching on. A convenience store doesn’t always have the book you come in looking for, but it will, without fail, be carrying the one you need.”

As he thought this, the convenience store worker slid a yellow, cellophane-wrapped magazine toward him across the counter. On the cover was a beach ball being tossed back and forth between two fit bikini girls.

The parasite was reduced to a black mass of vibrating fury.

“I’m giving you a chance here and following your advice, so you should give me one too,” Gintoki addressed his mental guest with relative cheer, as he paid for the magazine. “Let’s see if I can achieve enlightenment through these pages, just like you wanted.”

Gintoki was humming to himself, happily swinging the bag that held his magazine to and fro, as he stepped toward the exit. This whole parasite thing did not seem like such a terrible ordeal with some alcohol in his gut and a dirty mag in his hand. The weird creature seemed like a bit of a prude anyway, considering the way it reacted to Gintoki’s new beach friends. Maybe he could scare it off with a little good old fashioned debauchery. Let it be known to the brain hijackers of the world that Gin-san’s noggin was not a hospitable place! He never cleaned it, and there were mysterious stains and smells everywhere!

As if at that very moment smelling something it should not have, the enraged presence in the back of his mind rumbled ominously. Gintoki simply sneered, thinking to himself the phrase ‘Just desserts.’

Lost in thought, he bumped into two masked men at the entrance to the store. One of them growled and pointed a sword at his face. The other one growled and pointed a sword in the face of the poor cashier, who immediately crumpled to the ground in the fetal position.

“Get up and give us all your money!” Robber #1 demanded of the trembling employee.

Gintoki sighed and shook his head. “You know, I’m really not in the mood for this.”

“We could not care less,” Robber #2 grunted. “Your wallet. Now.”

“Well, I just spent the last of my money on this great magazine. It gets the best reviews from alien brainsuckers. I was looking forward to reading it, but you can have it if it means that much to you.”

Gintoki threw the bag with his magazine in the face of the robber holding him at swordpoint. In this moment of confusion, he swept a leg underneath the man to send him careening forward, and slammed an elbow into the side of his head as he fell to knock him out cold.

Moving quickly, he drew his wooden sword, preparing to smash the sword out of the other robber’s hand, leaving him with no way to attack the cashier in retaliation. However, his hand’s connection with his weapon caused the parasite’s connection with his mind to flare brightly in response. The angered creature flew to the front of his mind, energized and alive, just as Gintoki swung Lake Touya down. All of a sudden, Gintoki lost track of where he ended, and the Other in his mind began – or, rather, there was no Other.

With a savage intensity that was his own, yet More, he cleaved through the robber’s sword, as his wooden blade erupted in a blast of white light that filled the store. The automatic door at the front of the building opened with a ding, providing an exit for nothing particularly corporeal.

Slowly, gradually, the large mass of light faded, and thick, sizzling tendrils of smoke took its place. Apparently, Gintoki had not only chopped the robber’s sword in half, but he had also burned a deep line through the wall of the store in the direction his wooden sword had been pointing for the cut. He could see cleaved electrical wires and singed ventilation. Following the line of his cut further down, there was a severe, charred groove in the linoleum floor, looking to be about half of a yard deep. The cut traveled along the ground, ending near Gintoki’s feet, where his wooden, infomercial-cheap sword pointed after its swing.

Um. What?

As he continued to gape at the wall, the conscious robber and shivering cashier screamed and scrambled out the door. As he continued to continue to gape at the wall, the sprinkler and alarm system both went off.

Rain dripping down his curls and squelching beneath his boots, he slowly walked toward the remaining robber passed out face-down near the front of the store. He stared at the man in the black ski mask for a few moments, before kicking him on his side and gingerly placing his smoking sword down in the slack grip of the man’s right hand. Rising, he looked ever-so-casually around, scanning the aisles of the store, and, seeing no one, began to walk toward the exit.

He was almost at the automatic doors before he turned around and quickly made his way back to the man. Gintoki crouched down and grabbed the bag with his magazine inside that he had thrown only moments before, and, with it in hand, he upped his pace, exiting the store with as much innocence as a soaked man fleeing a smoking convenience store at midnight could muster. Out on the street, he sprinted down the first alleyway he could find, disappearing into the night.

[loveforpreserumsteve]

Begin Again (Mortician!Steve and Baker!Bucky Modern “Moving On” AU)

Twenty-Five:

Normally, Steve didn't wake up an hour early to groom his beard and style his hair. Nor did he typically start the day by doing push-ups in hopes of making his muscles seem more pronounced. Even Vinnie was annoyed by his behavior as he flopped back down on the bed to sleep just a little bit more.

Somehow, even Vinnie knew just how ridiculous Steve was being! After all, it was just the first morning run with Bucky. It shouldn't have been as big of a deal as it was. Especially not with Bucky being engaged…

Yet, there Steve was, trying to make himself look better. For Bucky. For Bucky who was engaged. For Bucky who was engaged to his former wedding planner. The wedding that never happened.Thank heaven!

Steve tugged on a tight t-shirt. Was it too tight? Possibly. But Steve wanted to look his best. Even if it was just a casual run with his crush through the park with his dog.

Jesus, what am I doing? Steve chastised himself as he fixed his hair.

Trying not to think about all the ways this could go wrong, Steve grabbed his running shoes and sat on the edge of the bed. As he laced up, he glanced over his shoulder to Vinnie, the bed-hog. Smirking, he encouraged, "C'mon, sleepy head. Wanna go for a run?"

The Weimaraner's head perked at that, but he remained laying in the middle of the bed. Steve rolled his eyes and stood from his spot. Walking out of the room, Steve called over his shoulder, "Fine, I'll run by myself!"

Just like Steve knew it would, Vinnie hopped out of bed and rushed towards the door. Nearly knocking Steve over in the process. Steve wondered what Vinnie would do once he realized that Bucky, his favorite treat-maker, would be there. Imagining that he'd probably slobber all over the attractive brunet in a more literal way compared to Steve's figurative way.

Clipping his leash to his collar, Steve led the hyper Weimaraner out of his apartment. Being sure to greet the few neighbors who were up and about at the early hour. Briefly debating whether he should drive to their meet-up at What's the Batter With You. After all, Steve didn't want to get too winded and have to call it a short run. But he didn't want to arrive all sweaty either. But he didn't want to seem lazy…

Choosing to walk as a warm-up, Steve was still early once he reached the cake shop. Not that he minded. Simply stretching as he waited while Vinnie laid down on the ground like the lazybones he was.

That was when a low whistle came from behind Steve, causing him to pause in his stretching. Glancing down at Vinnie, Steve found the dog practically vibrating in his excitement as his tail waggled back and forth. Turning to find Bucky exiting the cake shop with a smug smirk on his face as he teased, "If you stood out here all day doing that, I'd probably get a lot more customers."

Steve's eyes roamed over Bucky, wondering how something so ordinary as a loose t-shirt and basketball shorts could be so attractive. Blushing, Steve dropped his gaze and wistfully joked, "But then you'd never get any work done."

"True," Bucky chuckled in his agreement while he locked the cake shop door. Facing Steve, Bucky bent over, flipping his shoulder length brown hair over and twisting it into a messy bun. Tying it with the purple scrunchie on his wrist, he straightened out and warned, "You'll have to take it easy on me. It's been a while since I've been running."

"You're lucky that Vinnie is lazy today," Steve feigned annoyance. But failed at keeping up the façade when Bucky playfully rolled his eyes and crouched before the happy dog. Being as trained as he was, Vinnie restrained himself until Bucky started petting him, then the dog started licking all over his face.

The park with the running trail wasn't far, so the pair casually walked the few blocks there. Steve's imagination ran wild with hope-filled fantasies of holding hands. Of playful, intimate touches. Of grins and bright eyes. Of having a person to do this with every morning.

Once arriving at the park, Bucky picked up a slow jog. Warming up for their run. So, Steve matched his pace, allowing Vinnie to do the same. Vinnie enjoyed it enough as his tongue lulled out of his mouth. Happily taking in his surroundings like he always did.

Eventually, Bucky picked up his pace. Bucky's stance was strong, his technique one that was precise. It made Steve wonder if he had done sports while he was in school. From the way he ran, Steve assumed that he had been.

After checking out Bucky's technique -- and possibly his impressive, firm glutes -- Steve sped up his pace as well, to catch up with the brunet. Vinnie was more than ready to run faster and Steve decided to give him some more slack on the leash, giving the dog the illusion of running freely.

"Race ya?" Bucky propositioned when Steve fell in step with him.

Positive that he'd do anything that Bucky suggested, especially with so much mirth in his tone, Steve questioned, "To where?"

Bucky looked around and smiled at Vinnie. Deciding, "The Falls? Then we can take a break at the dog beach?"

"Sounds good," Steve confirmed, "Ready, set, g--"

"Go!" Bucky gleefully shouted, taking off just a second before Steve.

"That's cheating!" Steve called after him, but had no actual qualms with the brunet taking off first. Giddily chasing after the man while Vinnie tugged him along.

Since Steve was used to running, he managed to easily catch up with Bucky. Then, because he wanted to win, he pushed himself even more. Thrilling in the way that Bucky pushed himself harder in an attempt to beat Steve, and how he grabbed the back of Steve's athletic shirt in hopes of slowing him down. Steve couldn't help but laugh at the brunet's efforts, but didn't stop.

"Ouch! Fuck!" Bucky abruptly let go of Steve's shirt and fell back.

Hearing Bucky's outburst, Steve skidded to a stop to find Bucky standing there with an agonized expression on his handsome face. His hands were on his hips as he balanced his weight on his left leg.

Giving the leash a slight tug, Steve doubled back with Vinnie keeping up beside him. Trying to catch his breath like how Bucky was trying to catch his, Steve asked, "Everything alright?"

Still breathing erratically, Bucky opened his eyes and nodded. Stretching out his right leg, he reassured, "Just haven't done this in a while."

"Well, we can take it easy," Steve offered, running his hand through his slightly sweaty hair.

"Sorry about holding you back," Bucky apologized, lifting his shirt to wipe the sweat off his forehead. Revealing an impressively toned abdomen that Steve had difficulty tearing his eyes from.

Steve thickly swallowed and dropped his gaze when Bucky dropped his shirt. Reassuring, "Nothing to apologize for." Then, remembering how Bucky had yelped in pain, Steve asked, "You're alright though? You didn't hurt yourself?"

"I'm fine," Bucky assured, reaching down and lifting his shorts enough to show his knee and the scars there. Bucky clarified, "Acts up every once in a while."

Before Steve can think, he questioned, "What happened?"

"Old track and field injury," Bucky explained, forcing himself to hobble along the path. Still heading for the Falls, Bucky continued, "Blew out my knee at a meet. And I mean, destroyed it. Torn just about every ligament I could and had to get surgery for it."

"Ouch," Steve lamely commented and immediately regretted it.

"Yeah, ouch," Bucky good-naturedly chuckled. He tightened his messy bun and confessed, "I think what hurt the most though was losing my scholarship."

Steve's attention snapped over to Bucky. It all clicked for Steve then and he found himself stating, "Jimmy Barnes, George Washington High, class of 2009?"

Bucky's brows furrowed and he confirmed, "Yeah?"

"Class of 2010," Steve revealed, then immediately blushed.

Redirecting his attention in front of himself, he couldn't believe that Bucky was Jimmy Barnes. Sure, they had never spoken before since they didn't have any classes together and Jimmy Barnes was one of the most popular guys in school. Hell, how many times had Steve passed a plaque with James B. Barnes with a new record broken in long-distance or hurdling while on his way to the principal's office?

Really, Steve probably should've put it together sooner. Even if there were a lot of Barneses. Even if Bucky -- Jimmy -- had shorter hair back then. Had been slimmer with a clean-shaven, baby face.

"I, uh," Bucky faltered, bashfully keeping his gaze off Steve, "I'm bad at names… and faces. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Steve sincerely assured. With a shrug, he clarified, "I didn't… I didn't look, like, um… this." Walking past the Falls to the dog beach, Steve added, "Plus, we didn't run in the same crowd."

Bucky physically flinched at that as he admitted, "Yeah, well, that, 'crowd,' was full of assholes."

"Yeah, I know," Steve chuckled as he confessed, "I think I fought about half of 'em."

Bucky looked at Steve. Really looked at him. Studying him with narrowed eyes. That was when it clicked for Bucky, "Peeved Steve?! You're Peeved Steve?!"

Blushing, Steve's brows furrowed as he grumpily muttered, "Didn't know they had a nickname for me."

"Oh, sorry," Bucky bit his lip as he reminded, "Always putting my feet in my mouth."

Steve didn't say anything, just nodded and unclipped Vinnie's leash so he could run into the shallow water. A small smile crossed his face as he watched his good boy having fun.

"I'm sorry for offending you," Bucky apologized.

"It's okay," Steve shrugged and conceded, "I was an asshole back then, too."

"From what I remember," Bucky started, shoving his hands into his shorts pockets, "You were sticking up for those who couldn't -- or wouldn't -- stick up for themselves. Doesn't sound like an asshole to me."

The blush on Steve's cheeks wasn't from embarrassment now. No, now it was from being complimented by his crush, so he playfully mused, "Peeved Steve. It's not that bad. No, Hot Steve, but I think it fits better."

Giggling, Bucky teasingly argued, "I don't know about that…"

[car-karaoke]

Popcorn

This is an idea that I haven't been able to get out of my head for the last few months, so I decided to finally put pen to paper (metaphorically speaking). This wasn't a request, and I try to finish those first, so this one has kind of been on the back burner for awhile. Hopefully you guys enjoy it as much as I did!

Warnings: s m u t, fluffy Alex, language

Pairings: Alex H x Reader

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

I really need to get myself a floor length mirror so I can just sit on the floor to do this...you thought to yourself as you sat precariously on top of your cramped bathroom counter trying to apply your makeup. You were trying to do a simple cat eye look and, as usual, one eye looked perfect and the other looked like you applied it drunk and half blind. "Fuck" you muttered to yourself as it smudged yet again. Why did this have to be so difficult tonight of all nights? You were meeting up with Alex and Ida for a movie. You had met them on the set of Vikings. You were merely an extra with no acting experience, your character was so non-important that her name was literally 'Extra 54'. They just needed bodies for a battle scene. But you had bumped into Ida by chance and made quick friends with her and she introduced you to the rest of the cast

Ida was so unbelievably sweet it was hard not to love her. Your adoration for her just barely outweighed the secondary feeling of immense jealousy of wanting to look like her. I mean, she was gorgeous. Anyone with eyes could see that. It would be easy to hate her if she was a bitch, but she's not in the slightest. You tried very hard not to be envious of her, but a decade worth of self loathing was working against you. Still, she was one of your closest friends and she had introduced you to Alex and Marco, who ended up being your other really good friends

For the first few times hanging out with Alex, you tried denying the inevitable feelings you had for him. Like Ida, he was crazy handsome and super charismatic; causing basically everyone to fall in love with him. At this point, you hard to literally swallow your feelings for him every time you saw him. You had to physically stop yourself from touching him. It had become so much of a nuisance that lately, you had tried avoiding him. Things were never going to happen between you two, so why torture yourself? When Alex sent a group text to you, Marco and Ida about going to a movie, you decided it would probably be safe since you wouldn't be alone with him. Marco had plans, but you and Ida said yes

You finally (after much more cursing and a few shots of whiskey) managed to make your eye makeup nearly match. You hopped off the counter and checked your phone for the time. You had about 10 minutes before Alex was supposed to pick you up. You put on some shorts and one of your favorite blouses. It was very flattering of your figure and showed some cleavage, but not a ton. It was a top that made you feel the rare feeling of confidence. You spritzed yourself with perfume and then your phone buzzed. He was here. Alright, you got this Y/N. Just have fun, it is just a fun time at the movies with your friends

You walked down the stairs of your apartment building and went outside to see Alex's car. You walked over to it and opened the passenger side door. You senses were immediately intrigued by the scent of his amazing cologne hitting your nose. "You smell nice!" You pointed out, reaching over and giving him a quick half hug. He grinned at you, blushing lightly

"Thank you! You look nice" he said, looking at your outfit. You shuffled a little in your seat, fidgeting with your shorts before buckling

"So..." you started, looking straight forward and trying not to concentrate on how fucking delicious he looked and smelled. "Are we swinging by Ida's place? I figured you would've picked her up first"

Alex looked slightly embarassed you noticed. "Uhh yeah about that...she cancelled on us..." he glanced over at you to gauge your reaction. You looked confusedly at him. "Yeah she called like half an hour ago and said she was throwing up but that she wanted us to 'go have fun'" he said with air quotations. Your cheeks immediately felt hot. FUCK. Just you and him alone at a movie? Like a date? Oh god damn it. You weren't sure you could get through this in one piece

"I totally understand if you dont want to go now that Ida isn't coming" you blurted out. Alex furrowed his eyebrows at you

"Why would I not want to go just because she's not coming?" He asked seriously. Oh god, did you just give yourself away?

"Well...I just know you're closer with her than you are with me probably and...I dont know..." you stammered, not even looking at him

"You don't know?" He repeated, looking at you with a clenched jaw

"I just...I dunno....I kind of figured you guys like...I dont know...had a thing for each other" you admitted while blushing madly. Alex let out a sharp breath followed by an amused laugh

"Me and Ida?" He laughed again, rubbing his face with both hands. You nodded sheepishly. "No. We're not. Aren't you close with her? I would think she would tell you if she had a thing for me"

"She said there's nothing between you guys yeah. But I didnt know if maybe she was just saying that because she knows how I feel about--" you cut yourself off, mortified that you almost said it. Alex's face, on the other hand, lit up with interest

"Knows how you feel about what??" He pressed excitedly

"No! I'm not telling you Alex! No fucking way!!" You groaned, desperate for him to let it go. But he wouldn't, you knew that

"How you feel about me?" He questioned quietly, his face soft. Your could tell your cheeks were getting redder by the second. You just groaned and buried your face in your hands as Alex started laughing lightly, reaching out a hand to put on your shoulder. "Did I guess right?"

You peeked up between your fingers like a little kid and started laughing at his expression. "Yes, asshole you did" his smile grew even bigger until he bit his bottom lip. "I totally get it if you dont feel the same, we dont have to go to this movie or anything. If you want, I can stop hanging around you guys..." you were interrupted by his lips pressing against yours suddenly. You gasped when his lips hit yours. Holy shit, were you imagining this? He pulled his head back to look at you

"I want to go to this movie with you Y/N. Not as just a friend. I want to take you as my date. I've been sitting over here crushing on you since the first day Ida introduced us" he admitted, hand still cupping your face sweetly. You shook your head in disbelief. No way this was actually happening. "When she said she wasn't coming, I got so fucking excited" he giggled. "I knew immediately that I was going to make my move on you" he said as he stroked your skin

You leaned forward to kiss him again, which he accepted gladly, using both hands this time. You broke apart for air eventually, both of you breathing heavy. "Alright anyways!! Let's go to this movie!" You laughed

"You got it dear" he grinned, putting the car in drive and heading out.

You arrived at the theater with a little time to spare. Alex got out of the car first and walked over to you and immediately grabbed your hand before walking towards the entrance. You looked down at your intertwined hands and smiled. He noticed that and squeezed your hand smiling along with you. "Get used to it, I'm not afraid to show some PDA" he laughed

"I'm not either" you squeezed his hand back as he made a satisfied face before holding the door open for you. You led him inside and made your way to the ticket booth. Before you could even say anything, he pulled out his wallet and bought two tickets before returning to you with a smirk and handing you one

"I got us seats in one of those suite things!" He said excitedly. You knew what he was talking about since you'd done that a few times. They were separate areas where the customers got to be separated from the rest of the theater. Your mind immediately raced to the dirty thoughts that had been trying to escape since you met him. You could probably get away with some of that in there....you wondered if he was thinking the same thing...

Alex asked if you wanted some popcorn to which you agreed. He led you to the food counter, still holding your hand. "Ooo! We need these!" He said enthusiastically as he grabbed two boxes of candy. You giggled. What an adorable little man child you thought to yourself. He purchased the food and drinks and you guys headed to your little secluded area in the theater. You were thankful to see that the chairs in there were like the others, connected with armrests that you could move out of the way. Alex sat down in one of the chairs, situating the drinks, candy and popcorn strategically around you both

"Wont be needing this thing" Alex gestured to the armrest. "We've been waiting too long to cuddle each other" he moved it out of the way as you silently agreed, nodding your head quickly with eager eyes. "C'mere lovely" he gestured to you, arm out waiting to put it around you. You happily leaned in, snuggling against his side and inhaling his scent again

"You smell so fucking good" you giggled, nuzzling your head into his chest. He laughed heartily, his hand immediately sliding under your shirt to rub your back

"Thanks baby, you do too" he smiled, then you felt his body tense up. "Are you okay if I call you stuff like that?" He asked suddenly. "I can stop, I didnt even think about that, it just sort of slipped out...I'm just really fucking excited this is happening" he stuttered. You immediately looked up at him reassuringly

"I am too! I'm completely fine with you calling me things like that, it's fucking adorable" you smiled pushing your head up to kiss his cheek. He smiled lovingly at you before pulling your head back to kiss your lips. Both of you were smiling into the kiss, little satisfied noises escaping your lips. You carefully let your tongue poke out slightly to trace his bottom lip. Alex responded immediately by moaning quietly and letting his tongue slip into your mouth. Alex's hands were already hungrily roaming around your body, while yours were doing the same. You still couldn't believe this was happening, so you wanted to touch as much of him as you possibly could before you woke up from this dream

You felt his hand tentatively brush along your ass, as if he was waiting to see what your reaction was. When you bit down on his lip softly in response, he all but growled and squeezed your cheeks hard. You had to stop yourself from straight up straddling him right there and instead let your hand drift under his shirt and started tracing patterns along his hips with your nails softly. He moaned very audibly. You smirked in the darkness, knowing you had this affect on him. Just as you were about to plunge your hand deeper down his jeans, the movie started with an extremely loud intro, causing both of you to jump in your seats and snap out of the little world you were in

Your heart was racing from being startled in such a moment, you had instinctively squeezed your arms around Alex's torso and hid your face when the noise hit your ears. Alex just so happened to straighten up immediately and shield your body with his, wrapping his arms around you protectively. When he realized it was just the movie, he burst out laughing. You loosened your grip around him and peeked out, looking at the movie screen in betrayal

"What the HELL?!" you half yelled half laughed. Alex continued laughing as he mumbled something in Danish

"Scared the shit out of me" he laughed, rubbing your back soothingly. "I was prepared to beat some guy down!"

You laughed along with him, relaxing your body and leaning back into him, just more innocently this time. "So protective, I like it" you giggled. Alex smirked down at you, grabbing your hand and bringing it to his lips for a kiss

"M'lady" he said in a sultry voice. You pressed your lips together in a smile and thanked him. The movie actually was pretty interesting, both you and Alex were pretty into it. He kept his arm around you the entire time, snacking on the popcorn and candy with his free hand. He liked to feed you little bits of popcorn playfully while making a comment on the movie. Everything was going wonderfully and you were both managing to keep things fairly innocent until the female lead in the movie started making out with the male lead in the shower. Your mind immediately went straight to the gutter as you pictured that being the both of you. Please don't show them having sex, I'm gunna freak the fuck out you thought to yourself. As if on cue, the couple started doing exactly that. You had been mindlessly tracing Alex's arm with your hand before this scene, and you just now realized you had stopped

Alex was trying to hide the smirk on his face. He had certainly noticed. He leaned down to your ear and whispered lowly to you. "Is something distracting you love?"

You tried to feign innocence and looked up at him with your most convincing 'normal' face. "Shower sex can be such a hassle sometimes" you blurted out. He grinned at you and nodded his head in agreement

"It can be yeah, but not if you're with someone who knows what they're doing. And if you've got a big enough shower" he added. Your cheeks grew hot. The actors were moaning and had just made their way over to a bed and just continued on from there. Your eyes were glued to the screen. Alex's eyes were glued to you. You crossed your legs to try and relieve some of the tension growing there. The movie was insinuating that the guy had just started going down on his woman. You felt your core literally tighten as you took a shaky breath in. Alex didnt miss a beat

"I fucking love doing that" he whispered in your ear, causing you to whimper ever so softly. He hummed in your ear and gently bit your earlobe. "I wanna do that to you so fucking bad..." he trailed on, a smirk plastered on his face. His hand trailed down to your crossed legs, letting it wander painfully slow in between your legs that you just uncrossed for him. You felt his breath on your ear again. "If I were to stick my hand down your shorts right now, how wet would you be smukke?"

"Soooo unbelievably wet" you moaned, unable to help yourself. Alex hummed pleasantly

"Good" he said simply before plunging his hand down there without warning. You weren't lying, you were already so wet for him. His fingers slid up and down your slick folds with ease before he circled around your clit with angel-like softness. "Fuck..." he muttered darkly, pushing your head to the side with his nose and immediately biting down on your neck. You groaned in pleasure, hand instinctively going to his crotch. You could feel his massive erection through his jeans

"Seems I'm not the only one excit--" you gasped as he plunged two fingers inside of you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head. His fingers felt so impossibly good inside of you

"What were you saying?" He asked cheekily. You just laughed in response, eyes closed as you unzipped his pants and freed his cock. You tilted you head to the side and opened your eyes. God that thing was going to fill you to the brim. You started stroking it, earning another moan from Alex, who had temporarily stopped finger fucking you to roll his head back in pleasure. You quickly glanced around to check if anyone was looking. Nope, you guys were clear. You continued pumping him as he got closer and closer to the edge. He had continued fingering you as well, causing you to nearly climax before pulling his fingers out of you

"Hey!" You huffed in frustration as he shifted in his seat. He just smirked and propped himself up, leaning over to kiss you

"Hush my sweet one, I need to do something" he looked at you with mischievous eyes. God he looked and sounded EXACTLY like Ivar at that moment, turning you on even more. But what the hell was he doing? Oh god...

Alex glanced around him quickly then kneeled down in front of your lap. He wasn't going to....yup. He was. He slowly pulled your shorts and panties down while looking directly at you. He gently pushed your legs open with his calloused hands. You swear you could see his eyes turning darker as he took you in. "Gods you're beautiful..." he murmured before kissing your inner thigh. You couldn't form words, all you could do was stare at him hungrily. His long fingers reached towards your core, sliding so easily into your entrance. He looked up at you for your permission, mouth pulling closer to where you wanted him most. "Say it" he ordered softly. You moaned at his voice, biting your lip hard. "No no my love SAY it. I'm not going to do it unless you give me permission" he said slyly, kissing directly above your clit

"Fuck" you breathed out, reaching down to yank on his hair. He groaned happily but didn't close the gap yet. "I want you so bad Alex god damn it. Pleeease" you whispered. That's all he needed. With a satisfied smile, he dove into your pussy, licking a long strip up your folds before circling his tongue around your clit and sucking it into his mouth, fingers slowly moving inside of you. It took everything in you not to cry out in pleasure. That man KNEW what he was doing. Your grip on his hair tightened as you pushed his head closer to you. He moaned against your wet folds, voice vibrating through your skin, causing you to shiver

"You taste...fucking...amazing" he moaned as he kissed all around it. Your legs were already shaking

"Shiiiit Aleeeex" you whimpered, making him speed up his pumps as he went back to sucking your clit. Your vision was cloudy as the pleasure built inside of you. You were so incredibly overstimulated by everything happening right now. The act itself of getting eaten out was usually enough to make you swoon. The fact that it was Alex doing it to you skyrocketed that feeling. The fact that you were getting eaten out by Alex in a fucking theater where anyone could catch you? Altogether almost too much. You felt like you were going to explode. And you did, all over Alex's fingers with an orgasm that was quickly swallowed by his lips

"Ohhh smukke" Alex groaned against your lips as he knelt in front of you. He was holding your head in place by the back of your neck as he kissed you fiercely. You were suddenly very thankful that you were sitting down, because your legs were shaking so bad that if you were standing up, you would've surely fallen over. Alex's other hand slid down your leg and felt the rapid movement, he looked up at you with concern in his eyes. "Baby, are you okay?" He whispered as he rubbed your leg soothingly

You managed a small laugh and nodded quickly. "More than okay" you reassured him. "Alex...that was...amazing" you pulled his head towards yours again and rested your forehead against his. Alex's smile was from ear to ear, looking at you with such adoration

"Wanna get out of here?" He asked you huskily, kissing your cheek, then nose, then forehead then other cheek. You giggled and nodded excitedly. You started getting up before realizing that you were still naked from the waist down and immediately cursed, stumbling back into your seat. Your arm got caught in between the chairs and you both bursted out laughing. Alex, even though he was laughing hysterically, immediately reached out to help you get unstuck. He helped slide your panties back on with an added kiss to each thigh. Then came your shorts. Finally dressed, you got up and snuck out hand in hand with Alex, leaving your popcorn and soda behind. The only evidence to be found was the little wet dab of cum on the seat left behind and your combined giddy laughter as you hurriedly left the theater

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

GUYS THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING!! It was a long time coming and I am very proud of this one! Let me know what you all think and like/reblog if you enjoyed it!! I appreciate you guys so much ❤

@odinsravendutchess @peaceisadirtyword @ivaraddict @ivarlcthbrok @honestsycrets @meleedamage @lisinfleur @grungyblonde @laketaj24 @headedforvalhalla @forvalhallaandodin @dangerousvikings @thevikingsheaux @kissme-hs @ivarthebonelessvk @ivar-theboneless @ivarslittlebadgirl @ivarsshieldmadien @ivarswickedqueen @ivars-heathen-army @therealcalicali @nikky-the-writer @oddsnendsfanfics @angryschnauzer @vikingsbifrost @vikingsstories @vikingdrabbles @ravens-of-kattegat @lisinfleur @ivarsrideordie @justacripple @normatural @tephi101 @whisperer-of-freya

[kariachi]

Early morning fic. A longer one, another take on Mike giving in, this time with more focus on Osmosian culture things.

~~

It was just one big day of surprises. Rook had gotten news that Shar might possibly have been aiming to date Scout. Ben had managed to be one of the local Mr Smoothies’ five-hundredth customer and another’s hundredth in the same day and so gotten two free smoothies. Zed got to drink the second smoothie after Ben dropped it during his ‘I got a free smoothie’ cheer. A book Gwen had preordered came a week early. And Kevin….

Well.

Darkstar showed up at Ben’s front door halfway through the process of introducing Rook to Who Framed Roger Rabbit.

He’d looked like absolute shit, moreso than normal. How he’d managed to get gaunter and greyer was a mystery, but he’d certainly accomplished it, and he wasn’t even bothering trying to hide it under his normal steel helmet. He wasn’t bothering with much, really, if the limp slope of his shoulders was anything to go by.

Ben’d opened the door and before he could react to seeing one of their foes standing on his porch the stronger teen had impassively shoved him out of the way, walking inside like he was family. Immediately the others had been on their feet, soiled up and ready for a fight, which made it all the more confusing when he simply bypassed Rook without even looking at him. Bypassed Gwen without looking at her. Instead he beelined for Kevin, ignoring the flash of green light behind him, the weapon and energy aimed at his back. And Kevin just, watched this, eyes narrowed and fists clenched.

Darkstar stopped less than an arms length from him, face impassive, sighed, and lifted his chin. Kevin’s eyes blew wide with surprise, even as the others watched warily, their own eyes narrowing. He frowned, looked the other teen over, and made a low, rumbling noise in his throat. Then, without fanfare, he searched Darkstar’s face a final time, grabbed his arm, and lunged.

“Kevin!” In an instant his teeth were wrapped around Darkstar’s throat, a sharp snarl stopping the others from interfering. Meanwhile, Darkstar hadn’t so much as flinched, and continued to keep his head held high even as a line of blood trickled down his neck. After several seconds, Kevin snorted and slowly released both his holds, stepping back with a bloody mouth. As the others watched on, he slipped an arm over Darkstar’s shoulder and said something to him in Osmosian. Something that was answered back in Osmosian, to yet more surprise for everyone. With another rumbling noise, Kevin nodded and slipped his arm completely around his shoulders.

“Of all the days to have the translators off…” Ben said as Diamondhead, staring alongside the others as Kevin led the guy who’d fed off three of the four of them into the kitchen, Zed plodding along calmly at their heels.

“I’m not even sure I want to know.” The expression on Gwen’s face was complex to say the least. Like she wanted to be pissed, and concerned, and curious, but was too confused to do so properly. As such, it was no surprise that, just as she had been the first to speak, she was the first one to recover enough to follow the two, the others trailing behind her.

They were still speaking Osmosian and seemed to be getting along, well? They weren’t joking around or anything, at least as far as the others could tell, but they weren’t being antagonistic, which was something none of them had ever thought was possible with them. They’d hated each other from the word go- though the Plumbers Kids swore it was a recent change- but now they were talking seemingly amicably while Kevin emptied Ben’s fridge, setting literally everything on the counter beside Darkstar. Which wasn’t quite as surprising as you’d expect, given within the maybe four minutes it had taken for everyone to join them Darkstar had emptied a Tupperware and a half of leftovers. Again, the rest of the team were left staring.

“The fuck, Kevin?” Daimondhead asked the back of Kevin’s head.

“Is your mom capable of making anything with calories in it? I love her, she’s great, but holy fuck how do you people live?” Diamondhead blinked.

“That, does not answer my question. And no, I don’t think so.” Rook looked around the room and, ascertaining that Gwen wasn’t going to add anything to the conversation just yet- she looked even more conflicted than she had in the frontroom now that she was watching Darkstar hold one of Kevin’s handkerchiefs to his bloody throat and accept food freely given from him- stepped forward to hold the fridge door open for his fellow alien.

“Would you like to explain what just happened?” he asked.

“Mike is going to chill out,” Kevin replied, causing Rook to smile over having got an actual answer from him, “in exchange for me making sure he isn’t starving or stunted. Because some people-” he threw a pointed look Darkstar’s way- “won’t ask for help until they hit kunas.” Okay, that word didn’t translate. Darkstar got the point though and rolled his eyes.

“Yes, yes, I’m the biggest idiot in the city, do they have any milk?”

Without another word, Kevin handed him the milk, which- to the Tennysons’ disgust- he drank straight from the bottle.

“Kunas?” Gwen finally asked, her first words in the room.

“He’s gonna be pupating along with the rest of us.”

Oh. Oh. That, explained it? They’d learned by now that Osmosians pupated, went from adolescents shaped like whatever had raised them to adults shaped like, well, dragon people. They’d had to, first when Pierce had started eating like he was dying, and then when Kevin had joined in. The both of them had put on serious weight in the time since, and supposedly Pierce would be pupating within a few months. Hell, even Helen and Manny’s appetites were picking up now that they were reaching the age the other two had started.

“He’s Osmosian?” As one Kevin and Darkstar leveled them with a Look.

“Of course I am.”

“Of course he is. Why the fuck do you think we fight so much?” The team continued staring.

“Because he’s an asshole,” Ben said, turning back to himself. “Ya know, the sort that eats people?”

“In my defense,” Darkstar said, “at least I never killed anyone.”

“Which puts him ahead of me, Charmcaster-” Darkstar flinched at the name, or maybe it was at the venom Kevin spoke it with “-Hex, or Reinrassic.” Gwen looked like she wanted to argue, but decided otherwise.

“That doesn’t explain why his being an Ossy would make you two hate each other.” Darkstar rolled his eyes and she bristled.

“Because,” Kevin said before he could make any smart remarks, apparently having food in his belly was perking him right back up, “I used to be in charge when we were kids, and then I left and came back big and strong, and poor little Sparkles couldn’t handle not owning the territory.” He reached out and patted Darkstar’s cheek, quickly having to dodge too damn many teeth for one humanoid mouth. “But now that’s all worked out, and everything is going to be good. Right?” Darkstar glowered at him, huffing around a bite of casserole before swallowing.

“Keep me fed, and I’ll deal.” Chuckling, Kevin leant over and bumped Darkstar’s shoulder with his own, an action that drew a smile from him despite himself. In fact, he bumped Kevin’s shoulder right back, and a lot of the remaining tension drained from the two of them as he did.

Then Ben opened his mouth.

“Okay but if he’s an Ossy, what the fuck is with his powers? I mean, you both absorb energy, and you’re both seriously strong, but beyond that… Not really Ossy-ish.” At which point the smile dropped from Darkstar’s face in place of a scowl. Kevin threw him a concerned glance, then shrugged at Ben.

“We throw mutants like nobody’s business- fuck I’m one- plus, I think there’s Anodite in there?” This last bit was directed at Darkstar, who nodded like it physically pained him. Though with the neck wound it might have. Ben, Gwen, and Rook- but especially Gwen- gaped.

“You’re an Anodite?!” she said, staring at him as a number of pieces visibly slipped into place behind her eyes. He snarled in response.

“My mothers and fathers going back past the Hunting were Osmosian, I’m Osmosian.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Kevin said quickly, before anyone else could speak, snatching up a carton of juice and holding it in the air until Darkstar smiled again and joined the toast with the milk jug.

It was clearly just a day for revelations. Her own shoulders slumping, Gwen strode forward and snatched up a package of bell peppers before settling onto the counter furthest from Darkstar and tearing into them like she might find some answer at their cores. Ben settled for continuing to stare in confusion as his kitchen was picked clean. Rook, after shutting the fridge behind Kevin- who was moving on to the cabinets- was left to continue the interrogation.

“So, what does all this mean,” he asked. “He is not going to be causing trouble anymore?” Darkstar released a hissing breath.

“I stand behind the head of my pack,” he said in a tone like there was a knife to his throat and he couldn’t be more annoyed. Which would’ve been more worrying if he hadn’t then scoffed exaggeratedly at the look Kevin gave him in response. Something soft and proud and possessive all in one.

“And I promise security to those behind me.”

“So, what,” Ben asked, gaze darting between the two, “you’re buddies now?” Again, Darkstar rolled his eyes.

“We’re pack.”

“We’ve been pack, you’ve only just finally chilled enough to act like it.” He blew Kevin a raspberry in a moment of petulance the others weren’t sure they didn’t hallucinate before turning back to his food. Back in her little corner, Gwen groaned.

“So, what, we’re stuck with him now?” In what was a sort’ve worrying move, Kevin turned to Darkstar and rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

“Yes, G, you are, and given I’ve been stuck with the chick who mindcontrolled and murdered me, I think you can deal.” Darkstar’s brow rose in surprise and he looked between the two of them like Ben had done before.  Meanwhile Gwen’s expression darkened, and Ben and Rook both took a step back, waiting to see if this would be a boom or a fizzle.

“And I thought you couldn’t do worse than Argit.” Okay, a fizzle. Enough of one that Kevin simply didn’t respond to her, instead going back to whatever conversation he’d been having before they walked in. And this time, none of the others felt up to interrupting. Still holding her bag of peppers, Gwen hopped off the counter and returned to the livingroom, face marred with a scowl. Ben and Rook followed soon after. Behind them, they could hear Zed whining at Darkstar’s feet for attention.

This was going to take some serious getting used to.

[yconic]

( I loved the single dad tony au so much i decided to write a part two!)

"Every time you flap your lips another one of my brain cells dies and I crave for death, you absolute disaster."

Two months have passed since what the kids called 'the Steve incident'-- thought, Pietro insisted they referred to him as 'the creepy customer who wants to get into our dad's pants'--, and currently, Wanda was restraining herself from stabbing her eardrums with a toothpick as she was eating a brownie while listening to her brother's immature shenanigans.

Pietro rolled his eyes, laying out a piece of paper on the table. The blank page was filled with scribbled drabbles of Steve in dangerous or life-threatening situations, grace to Peter's artistic skills. Pietro had to bribe him with candy in exchange for the art, but the teen needed to feel like at least ONE sibling was on his side.

"Then perish, " Pietro scoffed, taking a seat next to her, stealing away the brownie as he took Peter into his arms, settling his baby brother on his lap, ignoring the drool spilling on his arm. "Come on sis, contribute! Come up with ideas! Help me! Do something! You're the brain of this operation!"

"No. Steve is just a sweet guy who likes our dad, that's it. Just leave it alone!"

Pietro scuffed, continuing his aggressive scribbling "I changed my mind, you're the ass of this operation."

"There is no operation. There's just you fearing dad will finally have someone again and you want to ruin it because you're paranoid and scared of change."

"Never gonna happen. Ever." Confidently said Pietro, arms crossed over his chest. He's pretty sure Steve won't stick around anyway once he gets bored, or fed up when he realizes Tony won't pick him over them, which will inevitably happen. He's seen this before and already knows the ending.

Only if he knew how bad he was going to eat his words.

Hand landing harshly on Steve's shoulder, Pietro's smile was forced and painful on his face as he turned to his science teacher whom he HAD to piss off that day with one of his usual acting up sessions, as he liked to call every time Pietro pulled his daily shenanigans.

"Mr. Stone, this is my father, Steve," Pietro pushed every word out with difficulty through his gritted teeth, forcing himself not to sneer every letter. Steve's knowing face didn't help the situation by any means, only increased Pietro's desire to wipe that infuriating smug smirk off his face. With his fists, preferably.

He called Steve and asked for his help after Stone caught him having a fight with Thomspon in the cafeteria. After a scolding that bored the teen out of his mind, Stone ordered him to call his parents, which made Pietro pause slightly.

If he called Tony, he'll get grounded for sure. After countless times his adoptive father had to leave his workplace because of Pietro's mischievousness, Tony firmly warned him that if he received one more call from the school, Pietro will be stuck at home babysitting Peter and do chores for a whole month.

He couldn't afford being grounded as he was invited to Harry Osborn's party which everyone will attend and he knew for a fact not a single person will shrug off his absence. If he missed this event, Pietro was going to be the main gossip material for who knows how long. Normally, he wouldn't mind a bit of attention here and there, but Pietro just knew he was going to be more annoyed by their whispers as time went by, and he didn't want to deal with it.

So he swallowed his pride and requested Steve's help, who much to his dismay, agreed to play along if Pietro'd put a good word for him to Tony. Grumbling, he accepted the offer and now here he was, in Stone's classroom, pretending to be the son of the one person he hated most.

In his luck, Stone was new to the school, replacing the former science teacher who thought was a good idea to keep some girls after class for 'supplementary lessons' and forgot about the security cameras that spied every classroom, so he easily believed Pietro's lie.

He also seemed pleased by Steve's perfectly tailored suit. Pietro had no doubt the outfit costed more than his entire tuition. "It's good to know at least one of you has decent taste in clothing, " Stone gestured to one of the chairs. "Please, take a seat, Mr. Maximoff. There is a lot we must discuss your son and his atrocious behavior."

"Don't mind if I do, sir," Steve smiled, sitting on a chair while Pietro remained on his feet, hands in the pockets of his hoodie as he waited for the whole charade to be over. "I know my son can be quite the rascal sometimes, but he means no harm, I assure you. What did he do this time?"

"I regret to say that your son has quite the record, Mr. Maximoff, " with a disapproving shake of head, Stone glared in his direction and Pietro had to hold himself back from rolling his eyes so hard they'd pop out of his head.

"Verbal altercations with the school's faculty, various acts of obnoxious farces that disturb classes, and worst of all, he engages in physical fights with other students like some sort of savage! This behavior is unacceptable and must be corrected immediately."

Fists clenched, Pietro sat in silence, knowing he won't help his situation if he'd open his mouth. Stone wasn't exactly the type to listen to the other side of the story that differs to his.

"Why did they fight?"

Taken back by the question, Stone blinked in confusion, as did Pietro. "Um, well--"

"Because there has to be a reason," Steve interrupted Stone with an unshakable firmity. "Pietro wouldn't start an argument just because. He knows he'd disappoint To--Me, if he did, " not giving the teacher a chance to reply, Steve turned his attention to Pietro and asked: "tell me what happened. The whole thing."

"Mr. Maxmimoff, I don't think--,"

"Stone, I'm speaking to my son. Don't interrupt me again." Steve's glare was enough to make Stone snap his mouth shut, not daring to mutter another thing. "Also if I may, using the term 'savage' to describe another student is incredibly disrespectful, not to mention inappropriate, and I'll make sure Ms. Hill will hear about it."

He couldn't lie, watching Steve rip Stone a new one was entertaining and he didn't want to stop it by any means. Holding back a smile, Pietro began to explain the whole incident. And even now he wants to kick Flash's ass for what he said about his father.

Steve looked like he had the same idea. Turning to Stone, he raised an eyebrow. " And I assume you already knew all of this before you brought my son here and called me. I am sure you were a rational person and heard him out instead of ignoring what he had to say thinking that you know better.

"I, well, he didn't say--"

" I also assume you will call Eugene's father and let him know about what happened. Needless to say his son will get punished just like Pietro, yes? It wouldn't be fair to just punish one student when both of them were involved, would it?"

"Mr. Maximoff, I'm afraid that it'd taint Flash's record if we involve him in this incident and Mr. Thompson wouldn't be pleased with that--, "

Stone's sentence was interrupted by the snort coming from Steve, but judging by the way his jaw tightened Steven was everything but amused.

"And we wouldn't want our main sponsor to stop throwing money to us because we hold his spoiled asshole of a son responsible for once, right? Why does it matter if we're being unfair to the other kids? If we're not treating them equally like we do more 'important' students? I mean, it's not like they can actually DO something or speak up since we will side with money anyway, isn't it?"

"Steve, that is NOT appropriate and I find your tone very aggressive!" Stone huffed indignantly, eyeing Steve as though he was a maniac. Rolling his eyes, Steve stood up, placing a hand on Pietro's shoulder, leading him out of the classroom.

"You ain't seen aggressive yet. And trust me when I say you don't want to," spoke lowly Steve, fixating Stone with a stare so cold and dark it made the teacher take a step and cause Pietro to stop in his tracks. He never heard that tone from him before. "And it's Mr. Maximoff to you."

Once they stepped outside the school, Pietro didn't peep at all, which worried Steve a great deal but didn't press onto the issue. They took a cab filled with awkward silence to the apartment building Pietro and his family lived in. Steve had to admit, the neighborhood wasn't the best. He'll have to talk with Tony about it sometime.

The cab stopped, making Steve finally break the ice "So, uh," he shrugged helplessly, as he gestured to the building. "This is us, I guess. Pleasure masking business with you, kid."

After a pregnant pause, Steve found himself surprised when Pietro asked him if he wanted to have dinner with them. There was no mockery or cutting hostility in his tone like there usually was. Steve would lie if he'd say the invitation didn't caught him by surprise, even made him worry further a bit, but nevertheless, he said:

"I am 100℅ sure you're gonna poison me," he said drily, finally making Pietro snort. ", but I'll take the risk. Lead the way, kiddo."

"Hope you like Cyanide in your lasagna." Pietro joked, jogging to his apartment.

Running after him with a laugh, Steve replied with " As long as you're eating it with me we won't have a problem!"

"Fuck you, Rogers."

"Right back at you, P."

[anth-seeing2019]

Looking Prohibition: The homeless in Clifton

Alexi Frick

Living in Clifton for the last three years has made me an almost lax observer of the homeless and those less-fortunate who inhabit the area. I’ve always found it very interesting to see how people interact around the homeless and what they do when they’re approached by someone they probably don’t want to be around. Especially when you’re dealing with parents from the suburbs or affluent kids who really have never been around these issues and are experiencing a sort of culture shock. I always hear that you should just ignore them, not look at them, pretend they’re not there, all of the above. While this isn’t an outright written rule in a constitution or anything, it is still advice a lot of parents probably give their kids right before they move to an urban area. At least my parents did, and I’m sure a lot of other parents in the predominantly white, middle-class town where I grew up did as well. This looking prohibition, of acting like another human being doesn’t exist simply because they’re begging you for money, is something I find very interesting and very poignant in a country where the gaps between classes just keep growing and growing. 

To start my experiment, I tried to find a place where there is usually a high volume of people and also a place where I’ve had several encounters with the homeless. The first place that came to mind was the Clifton Krogers. Well, the parking lot to be exact. There’s usually three or four people who I regularly see begging customers who are walking to their cars. Today there was an older African-American lady with pretty beat up clothing who was constantly scratching her neck and arms. She noticed me and came up to my window, and when I told her I only carried a card on me and apologized, she said “God bless” and politely left me alone. I witnessed a lot of college-aged kids walking by her and I’d say the majority of them outright ignored her and acted like she wasn’t even there. I noticed this more with straight couples and groups of men. People who were alone walking into Kroger’s interacted with her more, but not by a large margin.

I talked to one of the security guards always standing outside of the Krogers about the regulars he sees in the parking lot. He said that, for the most part, there’s never really issues with them. “I really can’t do anything unless one physically starts to assault someone. But I haven’t seen that happen yet. For the most part they’re ignored until they go away.”

One of the things that I think is interesting about this space is that there are more factors than one going into these panhandling interactions. The Kroger customers just spent money on groceries, they want to get them in their car and get them home, they don’t want to hang out in a Kroger’s parking lot. So that itself could factor into the decisions they make when interacting with the homeless. For the most part, they don’t feel threatened as well. The customers know that there are security guards, cameras, and cops always posted in the parking lot. So I’m sure people feel a little more at ease when dealing with a beggar in a very public space like this. I talked to a man who was unloading his groceries in the car next to mine pretty briefly, and found out exactly that.

“Yeah, I mean I never really think they’re gonna pull anything or threaten me. But there is always that fear, because you never really know. But yeah, there’s literally a cop car parked 20 feet away so I guess I feel like I can just ignore people like her and not really be afraid they’ll try to rob me or something.”

After about ten minutes another car pulled up next to mine, so I planned to ask whoever came out how they felt about panhandlers in this parking lot. This time it was two girls, around my age.

“Honestly they don’t bother me, I’m pretty used to them in Clifton and kind of just ignore them. Like I stopped giving them money, but every now and then I’ll give them a dollar or something. This lady I’ve seen here like three or four times, she’s always around. I don’t really like looking at them, because I am a girl so I kind of have to worry about if a male takes my gaze the wrong way or something. But this lady is pretty nice, I feel safer interacting with her.”

Her friend spoke out and said something pretty interesting.

“Yeah, she’ll actually remember who she asks and if she asks you for money when you’re going into the store, she’ll remember you when you walk out and won’t ask you again. I just feel like you never see homeless people doing that.”

While a lot of times it was hard to hear what people would say to her, since I didn’t want to just follow her around the parking lot, I still heard some things here and there. A few “go aways” were probably the rudest remarks I heard, I never witnessed a really harsh response or physical threat or anything like that. In terms of power relationships, I think in a lot of these cases the homeless person, or beggar actually has more power than the person they’re interacting with. If something or someone is making you avert your eyes, or completely ignore something that’s a few feet away from you, then that thing has the power in that situation. While the beggar may not have money, and the other party does, the beggar is still the one in control of a social situation regardless of whether they even know it. I noticed a lot of people going out of their way to avoid the woman I was observing, even if it meant a longer walk to their car. That right there is power over other people.

Tying this back to Garland-Thomson is interesting, because I think she would be more interested in the lack of staring going on in situations like this. She states that staring is a form of communication, and that when we stare at somebody we are sending them a message. And while people do stare at the homeless, they do it more from a distance, where they won’t be bothered. When the homeless person is actively interacting with a person, that person puts up blinders and stare at anything but the beggar in front of them. In Chapter Four, Garland-Thomson says that it isn’t civil to “stare at those beneath us”. While I do think this rule has something to do with people outright ignoring the homeless, I think the annoyance of the situation, of interacting with a panhandler, has more to do with it. It’s not something you want to deal with when you’re just going about your day. I asked my roommate how he feels when he’s going around Clifton and ends up in a situation like this, and had a pretty casual conversation with our friends about it. 

“It’s just annoying, I really don’t like to be an asshole but I also can’t just give every person a dollar. I don’t like to think about those people’s situations, honestly. It just makes me feel guilty and like I should be helping them.” One of my friends chimed in that he likes to observe the homeless, kind of just for fun.

“Just like, when I’m in my car or across the street and know they can’t talk to me, I’ll look at them and try to figure out what their whole deal is. Like how they got there. I dunno, I don’t really think about the staring part, but I guess that could come across as rude.”

I asked them what he thinks about when he stares at them.

“Like I said, I like to think about how they go to that position. A lot of the times I assume they’re, y’know, on crack or something. Like I know not all of them are, but like a lot of the times I really think they’re either boozing a lot or just high off some shit.”

This kind of opinion relates back to Segal’s visual typification. While my friend wasn’t assuming that all Jews have curly hair or a stereotype like that, he was assuming that most of the homeless people he sees are high off of some substance or are just going to use the panhandling money to buy alcohol. 

“…we must recognize that all of our sensory typifications are, in common, social constructions, and that their relative reliability must be understood by examining them as social constructions.” (Segal, pg. 238)

This Segal quote really sums up the bias that all panhandlers are high and just want money for drugs or alcohol. That opinion, shared by one of my friends, is a social construction that modern society would have us believe. I think it’s a lot easier to tell yourself that drugs and alcohol did that to someone instead of life, and the world itself. Because then that barrier between you and them gets a little weaker, when you realize that maybe that could be you. So I think people like to ignore that idea and assume that they’re just cracked out instead. I think, when it comes down to, people have their own reasons for interacting or no interacting with panhandlers and the homeless. A lot of people are told by society growing up that these people aren’t “regular” and that you should just ignore them. But in a very unstable economy, and in a country that has just begun to pull itself out of a financial crisis, I think homelessness and beggars are becoming a much more normalized part of society. Or, at least they should be. References: Thompson, Rosemarie Garland. Staring: How We Look. Oxford University Press, 2009.

Segal, Daniel A. Can You Tell A Jew When You See One?; Spring 1999; 48

[shoelace-noose]

#059 | Lost Love

Sonny Carisi/Klaus Hargreeves. Klaus doesn’t need to hear to understand.

Word Count: 1299

There was a time when Klaus listened to music day in, day out, to drown out the ghosts, even when the drugs did the job just fine. He had carefully curated playlists for every mood and occasion, a well worn pair of cheap headphones, and a shitty old mp3 player. It was good for him.

But then, of course, Vietnam happened. Klaus lost a lot of things there; his sanity, his sobriety, his love. He spent ten months in the muddy jungle, caked in blood and sweat, putting everything he had on the line just because of Dave. Just the thought of Dave makes him smile as he remembers that kind voice, and rough hands holding him like something fragile, even when the gunshots echoed louder than the spirits all too plentiful in a war zone like this one. When he came back, Dave’s name was still heavy on his lips and he knew he would endure anything just to see him one more time.

Of all the things Klaus lost, the one he hates the most has been his hearing. Funny how constant machine gunfire and bombs and screaming do that. When he tumbles painfully back into present day, all he can hear is an ugly, painful ringing. He was relieved at first, somehow. If he’s deaf, he doesn’t have to listen to the ghosts.

He still has to listen to them. Because they don’t technically make a physical sound, and it wasn’t his ears perceiving their screams in the first place, he can still hear them loud and clear. The difference is that he can no longer drown them old. Klaus really got the shit end of the stick, like always, and the worst part is none of his siblings believe him. They think he’s joking. They yell at him. They wave their arms in front of him. He tells them he can’t hear them, and they storm off.

Sometime after they avert the end of the world, Diego believes him after he offers to take Klaus for something to eat and Klaus doesn’t even look up. It’s a whirlwind after that. Diego drives him to the hospital, and Vanya rides along in the back with him, holding his hand while Ben sits in the front seat and relays Vanya and Diego’s conversation to him.

At the hospital, Ben disappears in the sea of other ghosts milling about, begging for Klaus’ attention. But Diego and Vanya are still there, each with a steadying hand on his shoulder while Klaus fills in the paper questionnaire. Has the hearing loss been gradual? When did he notice it? Were there any events which would have caused it? Do his ears hurt? Did he bleed? All the fun things. And then someone puts headphones on him and tells him to press a button whenever he hears a beep. He doesn’t hear anything over the ringing in his ears that’s been driving him crazy since he got back from Vietnam. Then he’s in a fun tube for a while, and the doctor shines a light into his ears, and it’s all great fucking fun.

Vanya writes things on a little notebook while the doctor talks for Klaus to understand what’s going on too. He can’t make much sense of it, but the gist of it is that his eardrums burst, and apparently have gotten infected in the past like, month since it happened. Which explains the dull ache that’s been bothering him which he figured was just leftover withdrawal. Figures. He’s prescribed something to clear up the infection, and Vanya grimly informs him that the hearing loss is permanent. So this is his life now. Nothing but the ringing and the ghosts.

After six months, Klaus would like to think he’s done a good job of adjusting. He has a nice little flower shop where he’s discovered his surprisingly green thumb. Turns out being able to surround himself with life does wonders for his horrific anxiety. He’s gotten pretty good at reading lips. And a nice chunk of his inheritance went towards a service dog. Klaus had considered hearing aids, but they way they feel irritates him, and there’s an occasional background hum that makes him want to claw his ears off. But he has Daisy, and she’s a real sweetheart. She lets him know when someone comes into the shop, warns him when someone’s coming up, alerts him to alarms and phone notifications.

So when he’s busy tending to little green shoots in the back, Daisy nudges him with her nose. She always hears the bell when a customer comes in. Klaus pats her head and gets to his feet, dusting his dirty hands on his jeans as he goes up to the front. People tend to walk around looking at premade bouquets for a moment or two before they come to the counter. Sometimes they pick up something Klaus has already carefully arranged, others, they want something special.

The customer is already at the counter when Klaus gets there, wearing a crisp suit and looking down at his polished shoes. He seems the sort of businessmen who occasionally come in and get upset when Klaus can’t understand them. As expected, he immediately starts talking when he sees Klaus, quick and upset and it’s just too fast and poorly enunciated for Klaus to keep up. He points at the sign on his counter made in blocky letters by Vanya, with a few watercolor flowers bordering the text.

My name is Klaus. I am deaf and cannot hear you. If you talk to me, please speak slowly and clearly while facing me so I can read your lips. I do not speak ASL.

It takes a moment for the man to read it, but once he does, he adjusts his posture and enunciates an apology. Not an asshole then, just someone who didn’t know. Klaus hates the assholes who act like he’s stupid. Contrary to popular belief, now that he’s sober, Klaus actually has a good head on his shoulder.

“Do you take bulk orders? For special events?”

Klaus nods and reaches for the order sheets by the cash register. “What kind of event?” he asks, realizing from the man’s flinch that he must have been too loud.

“A funeral.”

Death. You’d think after thirty odd years of speaking to the dead, Klaus would handle it better, but every mention reminds him of the way Dave’s eyes lost their shine to the gleam of moonlight reflected on all the blood. There had been so, so much. Fuck. Sometimes, Klaus can still see it caked into the lines of his palms and under his fingernails.

Something touches his arm and Klaus jerks out of his thoughts to look back at the customer. “Are you okay?”

“What do you want for the funeral?”

The man seems just as lost as Klaus was moments ago. His eyes are far away and his words start to twist in his mouth as he talks about whoever he lost. Blue and purple and white flowers, because “Mike” loved bright colors but his father would want something more classy. Klaus recognizes the grief too. Mike was someone this man loved deeply.

“When?”

“Three weeks from tomorrow.”

That’s cutting it closer than Klaus would like, but he understands the pain, and writes down the date before jotting down notes of what the man wanted. He promises to have a sample bouquet ready by the end of the next day, takes down a credit card number and ID, and finds himself wondering about whether the man- Dominick, according to his license- would hold him the same way Dave did because his hands have the same pattern of calluses and his mouth has the same deeply fond yet forlorn not quite smile.

[amnachil]

The College Society Chapter 1 Part 8

A two weeks delay because I had stuff to take care of, sorry about that :x But here we are ! Hope you’ll like it.

Liam Friday October 20 – Saturday 21

"You should bring them both at the Donut's Place. They make quite good pastries."

The young lad nodded silently. He was enjoying his break after several hours fighting against the evil dishes in an epic advendure. (In order to be motivated, he created a whole world were he was the hero, and the dishes his monstruous ennemy). (We all do whatever we can to make the work less tiresome so don't judge). Because he explained to Judy the situation between Nick and Rebecca, which wasn't improving since this latter started to meet the University running team, his boss tried to find solutions.

"I'm not sure Rebbie likes pastries..." he whispered. "After all, she follows a strict diet."

"Damnit man ! How can they be friends if they don't share a single thing in common ?"

"I honestly don't know."

In fact, their friendship was weird. Nick was a geek, enjoying doing nothing and stuffing his face while playings videogames. Rebbie was a star athlete, living only for running. They couldn't be more different. Maybe this break-up was inevitable after all... Sometimes, things happens for a reason. However, Liam wasn't ready to let it go. He wanted to bring them back together at any cost. (Well maybe not any cost, but everyone understood his point). The young lad and Judy finished their meals before going back to work, but suddenly, the director showed up and stated :

"Liam, I want you to learn service. A trainee will take your place at dishes. Let's go."

It took time for the freshman to realise what the director asked him. Then, following Judy, he got the uniform (she mockingly commentated his body while he changed, and it became one of the most awkward moment of his life). Anyway, he then found himself in the restauration room, surrounded by customers. And he freaked out. At least mentally. What am I supposed to do ? I'm not even able to remember my last lesson, how can I memorize their order ? He timidly followed Judy towards a table, and decided to carefully watch how she was doing. Sadly, once in front of the patrons, he started to shiver. Why god decided to do this exactly ? Sitting right there were Colton and Barbara. And the blonde girl saw him despite the fact he tried to hide behind Judy. (He was taller and wider than his boss, so it definitely was useless).

"Welcome to Pasta's Place. I'm Judy and I will take care of you this evening. This is Liam, a trainee.  Let me give you the menu. Would you like an appetizer ?"

A gap followed. Colton stared at Liam, and whispered something like "sorry", while Barbara focused back on Judy.

"We'll take a glass of water I guess." she ordered. "We're celebrating our first year together, but I'm not a vine person, such a shame right ?"

"I'm sure this wonderful guy is not judging you for this milady." asnwered politely Judy. "We'll come back when you are ready to order."

The waitress left, followed slowly by Liam. This one was so stressed he almost knocked a table over, but Barbara was manifestly acting like if he wasn't here. What did I do to deserve this ? At first, he thought he would be stressed the whole evening, but quickly, he totally forgot about this. In fact, Judy and him had a lot of tables to deal with, and the young lad was just too busy to think. Besides, as he expected, he was clumsy, and his boss needed to help him for almost eveything.  He had difficulty to hold plates, to clear table and even sometimes to talk with the customers. Once, he literally forget a little girl and only took the orders of her parents. Such a shame. Thankfully, Judy was everywhere. She deserves congratulation, because serving plus helping the numty I am is definitely difficult.

"Liam, stop dreaming. Go clear table 12 and take their order for dessert."

"Aye ma'am."

The freshman obeyed, but stopped when he realised who the customers were. Barbara and Colton. Damnit. He discretly came closer and took their plates.

"Did you like it ?" he asked the lower he could.

"Yes we did." answered coldly Barbara. "Can we have another waiter please ?"

Surprised, Liam stared at her. Her eyes hid a glint of anger, and she definitely was disturbed by his presence. What the... Oh by the unicorns no please... Her attitude, this hate towards him... She must had heard about his break-up. She blames me... like the others. Suddenly overwhelmed by guilt, saddness and shame, the young lad lower his head and whispered :

"Of course you can. I'll ask Judy to come."

And then he left as fast as possible, without letting Colton speak.

This night, when he came home (in fact saturday early morning), Liam felt even more weary than usual. The service was exhausting, and despite being physically fine, he was breathless. Plus, his head was about to explode. And after this... cold reunion with Barbara, the only thing he wanted was to sleep. To be wrap up well under his sheet, and to not move until the end of the world. Nevertheless, something was wrong. Nick was used to be awake, playing videogames when Liam went back from work. Especially during the weekend, when they didn't have lesson the next morning. However, right now, the flat was plunged into total darkness, and there was an awkward silence. Curious and a bit frightened, Liam walked towards his roommate's bedroom and put his ear against the door. The only thing he could hear was a scaring muffled laugh. What the heck ? Right now, the freshman already invented thousands of scenario, and in all of them, Nick was dead. A hideous murderer was certainly enjoying his body, for sexual or cannibalism purpose. And Liam was probably the next. (He was wonderfully imaginative, but after all, it was 3 am, in a dark flat, and he was tired). (Cannibal murderer existed, he knew that). But could he abandon Nick without even a fight ? His dead body deserves proper funeral. You'll not kill me that easy dangerous monster. Now that he bucked himself up, Liam clenched his fist and opened the door. He glanced at his roommate : this one was sat onto his bed, near to the wall, and perfectly alive. Seing Liam, he frowned and his lips moved, pronouncing silently "what the fuck are you doing here ?". Seems like he's not in danger, after all. (Maybe Liam had a bit too much exaggerated the situation...) (Just a bit, okay ?). Anyway, he replied in the same way "what are you doing ?". Nick rolled his eyes and showed the wall. "I'm listening Rebecca and her friend discussion.". Surprised, Liam googled. Indeed, he could hear the girl and a boy speaking on the other side of the wall. The laughs came from them. Liam went closer and asked again in the same way "Why are you doing this ? Are they... sleeping together ?". His roommate replied suddenly way louder :

"Of course not, you moron ! They are just talking shits !"

Realising he just shouted, Nick put a hand on his mouth and glared at Liam like if everything was his fault.

"I was just curious." he whispered. "And just shut up dummy, or they'll hear us."

You're the one who is making noise. Liam took a place onto his friend's bed, and murmured :

"I thought you and Rebbie weren't friends anymore."

"Are you 8 year old spud ?" angrily replied Nick. "I told you I'm not sulking. They just caught my attention. And you should go to sleep, you look dead."

"Yeah, you're right. Good night, mister bad mood, see you tomorow."

Nick pouted just before Liam left in the direction of his own bedroom.

Rebecca Monday October 23

One week last before holidays... She couldn't wait to leave for New York, where she will be part of a national tournament. Bob and her trained as much as possible, and she felt ready to beat her own record. Thinking about the medal she would win, she entered in the amphitheater and headed towards Liam and Nick. Around 10 days after her... speech about this latter attitude, she still felt a bit guilty, but not that much. Besides, he ignored her anyway, so she decided to let him do. I don't have time for these craps. She sat next to them, and smiled to Liam (he was absently watching the board as usual).

"Hi dude. How was your weekend ?"

She noticed Nick glancing at her, but it was so fast she couldn't be sure. As for him, the brown lad didn't answer, certainly because he didn't hear her. This guy... He had big dark rings under his eyes, and a really bad face. Maybe some problems with his family again...

"Liam, are you there ?"

The boy jumped (she felt like a monster dragging him from a wonderful dream...) and eventually replied :

"Yeah sorry... Well the weekend went... fine."

He blushed slightly, and she figured out it was a lie. However, she felt more preoccupied by Nick, who again took a look at her discreetly. What the fuck does he wants ? As Liam went back in his waking dream, she wanted to say something, but the professor came in, and the lesson began. I wonder what Nick is thinking now... He's acting strangely...

Lunch came and after a whole morning cogitating about Nick's behavior, Rebecca was mad against him. (Yes, mad despite the fact he did nothing wrong). (After all even when he was doing nothing, he was irritating). Therefore, when they sat together, the atmosphere was super, super cold. (But no one's cared, because Liam was too busy couting the clouds, and Nick was just pigging out as always). Rebecca decided to eat as fast as possible, and then left the duo to start her afternoon training. She headed towards the lockeroom, and looked for her sports bag, but she couldn't find it. What the fuck ? I let it here like 5 minute ago. She angrily went out, and glimpsed some boys running away with her stuff. Assholes. It won't be that easy. Not losing any time, she started to run after them. Even in daily clothes, she was way faster than somes fucking boys, and she caught up with them rapidly in a path of the campus. She didn't notice it yet, but she was alone and surrounded by boys when she shouted :

"Give me my bag back, motherfuckers. That's not funny."

"Gorilla want her bag back." teased a voice she recognised. "Dudes, I think we should listen to her, she could be dangerous."

Around her, they all laughed. Rebecca angrily faced Matthew, and opened her mouth, but stayed quiet. The sophomore held a sort of gun, like several of his friends, and she started to worry. What is he doing ? She knew he hated her, but... Giving a signal, the lad started to fire, quickly followed by his mate. It was paintball, and she screamed both with rage and pain when they showered her as much as possible. In no time, she ended covered in bruises and paint. Can someone help me please. The only thing she could hear was Matthew and his crew laughing. She was unable to see, and she fell onton the ground loudly. Fuck you dude... She tried to speak, at least to insult him, but failed. And because they left her, she closed her eyes, and decided to wait until the pain went away.

Eventually, she woke up laying onto a bed, in a white room. What happened ? She remembered being dragged from a place to another, but nothing more. Where am I ? She felt quite well, but still confused. Prudently, she watched her body : she had bruises, especially on her arms and legs. Apparently, nothing too bad, but it was still painful. Those assholes... I knew he would do something but...

"Seems like you are awake." greeted her someone. "Welcome to the nursery, I'm a nurse trainee here to take care of you. Can you tell me how do you feel ?"

Rebecca blinked, and then grouched.

"Angry. I want to punch this..."

She stopped when she saw the nurse. Chelsea was Matthew's girlfriend, and a member of the running team she trained with those past few days. Damnit. Rebecca couldn't charge the sophomore... She'll never trust me. During the training, it appeared the blonde was a nice girl, athletic and friendly. Way more than her boyfriend.

"Don't worry Rebbie." stated Chelsea. "Everything is fine. You're safe now, and except the fact that you're rainbow-colored, you're not really injured."

"Yeah... Thanks... I guess I should thank the one who bring me here too, where is he ?"

"It was two guys. They left like an hour ago, once sure you were fine. One was playing at his gameboy, and the other looked a bit simple-minded, but they seemed to know you ?"

The black girl nodded silently. Yeah; I guess they do... The idea of thanking Nick made her sick, and she decided to stay in the nursery a bit longer.

Pete Wednesday October 25

The young lad sighed when they all bursted in laughter. I knew it would happen... Being in the culinary club had advantages, like the fact he could cook amazing plates with the greasiest foods. Nevertheless, it had also a major disadvantage : Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey. (He had insisted to be called by his entire name, and because he was the head of the faculty's grandson, they all obeyed). The junior was an excellent cook, and usually made fun of them (even of their supervisor), making the session a true hell. And today, he manifestly decided to focus on Pete, and his growing waistline. To be honest, he wasn't the first to make comment about it : several friends and acquintances already noticed the change, but Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey was the first to tease the freshman about it.

"Seriously dude..." continued the junior "According to studies, freshman 15 is supposed to be a myth, but you... We're in October and I bet you already burst it out."

Again, a lot of students laughed. They don't even find him funny, but they're scared by his reputation. Honestly, Pete was too, and that was probably why he didn't answer. Plus, he may have  actually exceed the freshman 15. Two weeks ago, he weighted himself at 75 kg (165 pounds), but since, he probably gained a lot. (Now that Theo came back in his life, he ate even more than before, and became quite... addicted to Mike's caloric poder). Of course, he wasn't that fat... He just had a little paunch, and his legs and arms were a bit rounder, but nothing too important. However, as he didn't found time to replace his wardobe, he wore too tight clothes. In order to button his jeans, he used an elastic trick, and his T-shirt was stretched at his maximum, emphasizing his belly. Needless to say, it was godsend for Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey the jerk.

"You're not defending yourself ?" asked this latter. "Damnit that's so annoying. I'm done for today fatass. See you soon."

And with this threatening conclusion, the junior left the room and Pete could at last get back to work.

Evening came, and the young freshman got ready for a swimming session. Alone in the lockeroom, he put his swimsuit on, with a bit of difficulty. To be honest, it was slightly aching because it was compressing his waist. I knew I needed to change my wardobe... All his clothes were too tight, but Theo seemed to enjoy this, and Pete only wanted to please him.

"What are you doing my dear little sugar ?" asked suddenly someone behind him.

The blond lad turned over towards his lover, and smiled.

"I thought I would swim and..."

"Swim ?" cut off Theo. "No way."

Surprised, the freshman frowned, but when the handsome brown lad came closer, he just held his breath with excitation. A hand stroked gently his belly, making it jiggle. That's not wise... Anyone can come in. Pete wanted to say that, but he only moaned with a guilty pleasure when a second hand went slowly touch his crotch. It was so joyous. Bad, but joyous. In fact, the freshman realised a week ago taboo were a turn on. Being a lover, having sex in forbidden place and at forbidden time... It was the kind of thing he asked for. Besides, Theo had an experience more than useful. He knew some body's spots Pete didn't even imagine real. And he's hot... So hot... Suddenly, the two hands stopped their caress, and the blonde guy sighed with ecstasy. He was almost gone, but his lover just moved backwards and smiled.

"You can't swim. You're not physically fit for this." stated Theo.

The freshman opened his mouth, but said nothing. Eventually, right now, he only wanted the junior's touch. He was too aroused to think efficiently.

"It would be a shame for our team if a fatty is swimming with us." continued the dark-haired lad. "It's better if you stop coming here."

Pete nodded slowly. He started to calm down, and to consider his lover's words. He's kicking me. For a sec, the blonde boy felt ashamed, but he realised it mean nothing to him. After all, he joined the swimteam in order to get an eyeful of the guys. But now, he had one for himself. And the only thing I want is to be with him.

"Do you understand, Pete ?" asked Theo.

"Yeah, I do. And you're right, it was a bad idea to come. See you this night, I guess ?"

The junior smiled. A glint of lust twinkled in his eyes.

"Maybe. Being uncatchable is a part of my charm, isn't it ?"

To be continued

Sooo Barbara and Damian Nicholas Smith Carrey made their 1st official appearance ! They both are important for the main plot (Liam’s) and we’ll see them again soon :)

See you next week (I hope :x)

[myupostsheadcanons]

I know you @highwayham asked about DBD headcanons on another blog... I’ll get to that soon.... I was working on this one for you the past week....  So I am quite ahead of the game.

My personal headcanons for all the DBD killers.

(gets a bit fanfic-ish in places, but damn my fan fic writers soul. (i haven’t done the final proofing, but go me) )....

  The Doctor

The Anti-Freddy.

Herman’s madness and electro-shocks automatically wake people up/take people out of Freddy’s dream realm.

It is nearly physically impossible for him to go to sleep.

Water is his weakness. Submerging him in enough water would burn out his own powers. It will put him in a coma if he is fully charged when submerged.

Herman didn’t think Freddy was real for the longest time. He thought Freddy was some made up joke the others were pulling on him. Or some Invisible Man that the others were putting too much stock in.

When he isn’t driving through crazy town, he’s generally snobby, rude, haughty, and uptight. He has this air of acting “better than you” that drives most of the other killers bonkers.

OCD... the only killer that manages to keep his whites mostly clean on a trial.

Herman and Myers especially don’t get along. His madness powers would make The Shape’s voice in Myers head louder and angrier. And The Doctor being a Psychiatrist rather than a Medical doctor didn’t help either.

Herman and Evan often fight over who’s in charge. Evan is loud and violent, and easy to ignore. The Doctor is more demanding and a perfectionist, on top of being sadistic, so more people still side with Evan.

The Nurse

Sally doesn’t like that her “role” among the group is being the nanny.

The Trapper will call her “The Nanny” instead of “The Nurse” (she makes sure to give him extra scares by casually hiding behind corners on him)

In fact, The Trapper is perhaps her most frequent patient.... for stepping in his own bear traps.

The Nurse and The Doctor kind of get along. She was so use to having to deal with asshole men doctors while she was alive... what’s one more now that she’s dead?

Her, The Doctor, The Hag, and The Clown handle most of the medical needs among the group. (The Hag knows Apothecary, The Clown has some understanding in that field as well and helps the two women make any meds. The Doctor has enough knowledge through his experiments on humans and medical school to help, but isn’t as skilled/knowledgeable as The Nurse)

The Spirit

Rin didn’t understand English when she first arrived. Julie (The Legion) knew some Japanese because of being a massive weeb, and tried to help translate pieces of what was being said to the others. (often just fucked up on the translation completely.. basically think Lopez from RVB. or Peggy Hill levels of bad)

Rin is polarizing. One moment she is calm, collective, and interested in being around people... the next she’s screaming at everybody, even those that did nothing, and would even attack other killers.

The Spirit often hangs around The Nurse, neither talking to one another. If she’s not creeping on other people in the group.

Work is too much.... work.... When it comes to doing chores or requests, she would suddenly vanish or be last in line.

Rin tends to creep on Myers the most. She likes that Myers doesn’t talk, or give a shit... and she saw him without his mask a few times.... so...  long siiigh.... (he’s just confused by her)

She fucking hates Freddy... He grabbed her inappropriately only once and she kicked his ass... he’s been leaving her alone now.

She doesn’t like The Doctor either. Outside of being pushy and treats her like a pest: his powers make her even more unstable and volatile.

The Wraith

Unless the killer is a colossal Asshat, he’ll get along with them. (Basically, The Doctor, Freddy, The Legion, and The Spirit are among his “doesn’t get along with” list)

He’s been around The Trapper the longest out of the killers so he’s use to Evan’s brand of Asshattery.

Him and Amanda tend to casually hang around with each other the most. He knows where the best stuff in the scrap yard is and they have similar interests in tinkering. (mlm and wlw solidarity)

Bubba, Max, and Evan come to Phil and Amanda whenever their equipment needs to be fixed.

Phil also likes to spend time with The Hag. He talks to her about the magic he learned from his homeland and helps her gather herbs.

He really just wants to be useful.

The Hag

Lisa knows the most about herbs and plants. Which ones are safe to eat, or what effects they cause when ingested. The Clown likes to get her advice when making new potions.

The Hag, The Huntress, Bubba and The Hillbilly are in charge of the Homestead end of things. (Farming and Cultivating... growing food, animal husbandry and butchering... Actual cooking the meals is on rotate among all the killers (at least those that at minimum know how to boil water)).

Lisa knows Rune Crafting, and recognizes that Myers has a spell/curse placed on him. She doesn’t tell any of the other killers she knows this.

Her Teleport spell can pull Freddy out of the dreamworld... if she has hold of him when she activates it. She almost did it twice, but he managed to break her grip and is staying away from her now.

The Nurse, being a super natural creature, is more accepting of The Hag’s witchcraft, apothecary, and homeopathy than The Doctor is.

The Hag and The Doctor get in frequent arguments based on their different world views.

The Trapper

The “Bad Boss” of the group.

Is an ass to anybody that doesn’t do what he wants.  (One part, Biff Tannon, One Part Al Bundy)

The other killers often forget that he is book-smart (came from a rich family, actually went to collage) because of how big of a douche bag he acts.

Evan relies too much on the few people that know what they are doing to do everything (The Nurse, especially)

Evan’s orders are easier to shirk/get around, because they are often bad orders that make no sense. It also doesn’t take much to “suck up” to him and get him to forget about something they’ve did wrong. Which is mainly why people side with him over The Doctor. 

His “cronies” are The Hillbilly and The Clown, and (with some arm twisting) The Wraith and Bubba.

He’s mainly buddy-buddy with The Clown because Kenny makes the best fucking bathtub gen in the realm.

He becomes a CHAD-DORK around Amanda (She knows this, is not interested in him, but gets him to do whatever she wants).

He is very particular when it comes to self-grooming. When he is not “working” / killing he likes to keep himself clean. He showers twice a day, and spends a lot of time shaving... to the point he’s practically bald all over his body.

He uses a straight razor to shave, a very sharp one.

He gets annoyed when the other killers don’t groom themselves on a regular basis. He understands it is dirty work, but there is a time and place to be dirty. (zombies and undead not withstanding, being dead/rotting can’t be helped).

The Huntress

She’s the most “efficient” of the non-magical killers.... all aside from:

Her near-constant singing and talking would annoy some of the Killers (who believe silence was the key), until they saw her sling a hatchet and down a survivor. 

She has no personal-space bubble. Will kiss people on the cheek/mouth in greeting (if they don’t flinch/push away from her)... it surprises most of the others that first time because it isn’t a common practice in America, where most of the killers are from, nor in modern society outside of one’s actual family.

Doesn’t shave.  She thought it was an odd grooming custom when she was watching Amanda shaving her legs and armpits in the bath. Men only shave/trim their beards cleanliness. She sees no reason for a woman to shave.

Anna goes out of the way to talk to the “outliers” of the Killer Group. (The Spirit, Myers, The Legion, and Bubba). Even if it is just to say “Hello.” and get no response in return.

Anna has child-like interests. Likes to talk about fairy tales and folk legends. Collects odd knickknacks (buttons, paper clips, caps off pens, pieces of ribbon, beads, rocks...). Play dress up with other Killer’s clothes (try on their masks and play with their weapons). She jumps in mud puddles and catches bugs/small animals with her bare hands to show others.

She first caught Bubba and Myers attention by showing them a frog she caught and pulled its legs off in front of them (Bubba then ate the frog). Myers was just...enthralled...  he was going to kill the frog if she handed it to him and she just did it.

From then on Bubba liked to join her on any weird quests she would have (like as if he was her little big-brother). The Wraith would follow to make sure they aren’t getting into trouble.

The Huntress got pretty good at guessing what Bubba is saying. It helped that when she first came here she didn’t know English and had to often pantomime what she wanted to the others as well.

She wants to be a helper, but her brand of help tends to lean towards “s-mothering”....

The Hag, The Clown, The Wraith, The Nurse, The Pig, and The Doctor are the ones she actually treats like her elders....

The Trapper and The Hillbilly are on “peer” level with her. Myers was... until she realized he was a walking disaster, and actually knew the least out of the whole group.

So... The Legion, Myers, Bubba.... she latched onto them as her special “projects”

(The Spirit and Freddy are in the “no” zone)

The Hillbilly

Is a slow talker and mumbler, but not dumb (actually he’s rather average, just uneducated. he believes he is stupid because he was told he was his whole life)

He can’t hear out of one ear because of his deformities and the loud chainsaw. People often have to repeat things because of that.

Max could be found either at The Trapper’s side, or at the homestead in the barn with the goats and pigs (he feels safe in there)

He makes Amanda new pig masks when ever they get old or damaged.

The Hag watches his back, making sure the others don’t treat him poorly. 

Max and Bubba do get along, even though it is difficult for Max to understand what Bubba wants.

The Legion tend to antagonize him and Bubba at the same time with their trivial prattling about Max being a “rip off”.

The Clown

Is the actual “boss” of the group, but doesn’t claim to be. Even though he knows damn well he is.

Kenny would hear what the Trapper wants done, and often tweak the orders to be more feasible when relaying them to the others.

Kenny’s big loud personality stood out. He was better at working a crowd than Herman and Evan.  

He can get the more “outlying” killers to listen to him.

He got where he was because he showed up rather late in the game. Nothing was getting done, there was little to no cohesion among the factions. Half the team barely listened to The Trapper, the other Half tended to do whatever the hell they wanted.

He managed to get The Legion to act less like little shits to the rest of the killers all the fucking time.

Myers would trail behind Kenny, or low-key stalk him. The Clown could never manage to pin him down to confront him about it. The others told him not to bother. After The Legion came, Susie eventually told him it was because Myers really liked clowns as a kid. Kenny began to think of Myers as a  “stray cat.”

The only killer that Freddy actually kind of likes and would take “requests” from. They both have a dark sense of humor and are practical jokers. The Clown’s potions also make people easier to put asleep. (Kenny just knows not to be a total dick to your “coworkers” or you’ll be spinning your wheels in the mud the whole time)

The Legion

For the longest time the four of them stuck together, not interacting with the other killers outside of being trolls or antagonists to them.

Frank and Julie were the “spokes persons” whenever they had to make “demands” to the other killers.

They did not to approach any of the killers alone.

The Spirit was the first of the killers to hang around with them as a “friend”. They were close to her age (of death) and as condescending as she was. They also helped her with her English.... kind of.

Myers and Freddy had tried to “pick them off”....

With Myers, they over stepped their boundaries when it came to his comfort zone and he wanted to get rid of them. He knocked Frank unconscious, broke Joey’s arm, and was about to moire Julia before Anna and Bubba were able to pull him away (Susie ran to get help).

Freddy did so for his own sadistic pleasure. After several days of sleep deprivation, and Susie needing to be waken from a coma:  The Doctor and The Nurse eventually stepped in to get Freddy to leave them alone.

The Huntress and The Clown took responsibility of The Legion after the attacks (Along with Myers, Bubba, and The Spirit... all those in need of “special attention” or those that are in the habit of isolating themselves (it is also why Kenny became “frenemies” with Freddy, to keep him from completely turning on the group))

The Legion’s love of Slasher Movies made them experts on Lore regarding Bubba, Myers, OG Freddy.... only up until the mid-90′s.... they never got to see the Halloween reboots: H20/Res, or even the RZ remakes, nor FvJ, Jason X or the Remakes of F13 and Elm Street. They think Amanda was another one of the “in house” killers like The Trapper, The Wraith, and The Nurse.

They never been in a Hot Topic. Because there wasn’t one where they lived.  Most of their gear was stolen from concerts, bikers, and sports supplies stores.

The Internet was barely functional in the 90′s... to hear Amanda talk about modern technology and smart phones in the 2010′s, it is moon speak to them. (it is moon speak to most of the killers)

The Plague

“Avoid like The Plague” became serious business.

She only speaks Ancient Mesopotamian. Refuses to lower herself to speak the tongue language of these barbarians.

Freddy’s the only one that can communicate with her due to conversations in the “mind/dream” realm being more mental-emotion based than literal-verbal language based.

She still treats him like he is a worm and a viper. Does not trust anything he tells her.

Prolong exposure to her presence will cause sickness and wounds to become infected more easily.

She was banned from being around their social/common spaces, and food and water sources by the other killers due to her infectious presence.

Spends most of her time at the killer camp encased in a tomb in isolation.

Bubba

Best cook (don’t question the mystery meat...)

Anna is like the cool sister he always wanted. She’s nice to him, looks after him, and can skin a whole dear in under 20min.

Bubba doesn’t like The Legion. They would tease him more than the others. It doesn’t take much for him to go into a tantrum, or run off and cry, so they saw an easy target. (They knew when the fucked up when Anna has to get involved.... we’re sorry team mom.)

The Nurse and The Spirit scare him. He gets the heebie-geebies every time they look at him. Freddy is the worst.

Amanda

Amanda has a crush on Anna, but Anna is so obvious.

She tried to be nice to The Legion when they first arrived, but they were too immature and antagonistic.

The Wraith’s cloaking is about the extent of “supernatural” she could handle. It took her a long time not to freak out over The Nurse and The Spirit still creeps her out. Freddy... lives up to his name as The Nightmare.

At least most of the killers are just big men... she could handle dealing with men.

She is aware that there is a rivalry over her between some of the men. Phil, she’s pretty sure he’s gay, even if he won’t say it... But Evan, Max, and Herman are always trying to do favors for her...  (she suspects it is because she’s the most ‘normal’ adult woman among the sausage party)

She stays clear of Myers out of principle. She watched the Halloween movies, knows what he is capable of and that reason rarely worked with him. If she had him in a proper trap-house, he’d be at her mercy, but roaming free like this? no.

Her and The Clown only sort of get along. He’s too loud and handzy, like an old drunk at a bar. She put his arm in a trap that he couldn’t break free of. He had it on for three days before he apologized to her.

Freddy

The best scout... rarely does it though.

Freddy was better at avoiding any chores around the compound than Rin and Myers... until The Legion let slip that Freddy was a gardener/grounds keeper in his past life...

He used his powers on all the killers, at least once, just to test their reactions or to see what was inside their minds. Those with traumatic pasts were easy to get to.

Those that couldn’t fight back he stayed on them longer.

Until they started grouping up against him.

The Nurse, The Spirit, and The Doctor became the “vanguard” against his meddling. They could either physically attack him in the dream world or cancel out his powers all together. (The Doctor could even pull people out of a coma)

He isn’t friends with any of the killers. The Clown is the closest, and that’ll be an associate/coworker at best.

Freddy knows what The Clown is doing, and his dislike of The Doctor and the incompetence of The Trapper made him more willing to follow along with Kenny setting himself up as a back-door boss.

Michael

Was the last of the killers to “crack” and come into the group (stalking and observing didn’t count)

Nobody knew what his name was until Amanda showed up. He was just “The Shape” to them. “Holy shit! That’s Michael Myers!” 

Nobody knew his Middle-Name until The Legion wouldn’t stop calling him “Audrey”

He ignores Evan and Herman, more so when they get into cockfights over leadership. They both tried to “appeal” to him at some point to join their side.

Within the first two nights of coming to the realm, he got into a fist-fight with Evan, they both ended up rather bloody and beaten out of it. They even managed to pull their masks off in the fight. At the end of it, Evan was all “You’re just some punk kid. You ain’t worth my time.” and left Myers to his isolation after that.

Herman showed up in the realm after Myers. He introduced himself, got nowhere with the questions, and began to preach at him about “dissociative disorders”.... things Myers heard far too much about from the doctors at Smiths Grove. But this doctor was dangerous, and he only had to be hit once by the doctors madness effect to realize not not to start a fight with him and to keep his distance if possible.

There was something about The Hag’s magic that sends him on edge. It makes the hairs prickle the back of his neck whenever she activates a teleport (he didn’t even have to hear or see it go off... he’d just know) . There was a lot of things about The Hag that The Shape part of his brain responds to, like they knew one another somehow....

When all the killers go on team missions, The Clown would be assigned to keep an eye on Michael (not necessarily to work as a team, but for buddy-system safety reasons). Kenny would often address him as “My Boy” instead of his name or “The Shape” ... Michael doesn’t mind it too much.

They first tried teaming The Spirit up with Myers, but he would refuse to work with her and she took every opportunity to shirk responsibilities (she basically reminded him too much of Judith)... so nothing got done.

Freddy once attempted to put Myers to sleep, it only put the “Michael” part to sleep, but The Shape fully took over and went into berserker mode. (The Trapper, The Hillbilly, The Doctor, The Nurse, and The Huntress were needed just to pin him down and they had to lock him up until he passed out)

Myers almost drowned once (the survivors had a water trap made for The Doctor, when they set it off it dropped half the killers into a lake along with it. The Doctor managed to get a hold of The Hag and Teleport out of the way). Anna had to drag him out of the water and give him mouth-to-mouth. She was then determined to teach him how to swim. (after he got over the pneumonia from having his lungs full of dirty pond water). He found the whole thing embarrassing... especially the lessons, having to be half necked in the water with Anna, who only had a pair of shorts on and had her arms around him....ffffff.... not to mention The Spirit was watching....fml.

Because of that, Anna was the first person he said something to in 15 years (even if it is 90% “yes” and “no”... everybody (besides The Legion) thought he was mute, but when Anna asked “can you breathe?” and he gagged out a “yes” it surprised them all.)

She convinced him to eat meals around the others more often after that. He stuck close to Anna, Bubba, and Kenny the most. He didn’t mind The Wraith that much either... Still don’t like The Spirit. And he only goes around The Nurse if he has to  (after a week being sick and in Sally’s care... he’s just done with ghosts.... Rin, Sally, Freddy.... gtf away)

He would be one of the better killers, if he didn’t play around so much with his kills. Anna showed him how to kill people/animals faster... it actually made him play with them even more because he then knew what to do to prolong the process.

Myers and Anna are both Bi-Ace.... love and friendship isn’t in Myers vocabulary... they got stuck in an endless “repay a favor” loop after her rescuing him and giving him lessons.

They have to work around each other when on a hunt. He personally thinks she is too noisy and annoying on a hunt, and she thinks he takes too long fooling around. (he often has to change his killing style to go around hers, which he does not like to do).

When they are paired together on a mission, they would eventually start fighting with each other... it startled the survivors when they heard Myers tell her to “Shut. the. FUCK. UP!” about the singing and telling him to hurry up.  She then got so mad she was cursing him out in Russian... The Survivors still joke about them being an old married couple.... to their faces even. Laurie especially).

[myaekingheart]

22. Relationship Tactics

read the scarecrow and the bell on ao3

index | from the beginning | < previous | next >

              Kakashi had been, for lack of a better term, distracted. He hadn’t been getting much sleep, he had been working his ass off, and every night he was haunted by strange dreams of an old friend.

               I’m doing the right thing, he thought to himself. Things are better this way. Still, he couldn’t seem to quench his desire to see her. When he would wander into Kaminoki, he would interact with her only as much as necessary, but sometimes while on duty he would peer around corners just to see her, if only for a few moments. This was one such day, catching a glimpse of her walking through Konoha. He dove into an alley and his heart sank as he watched her disappear.

               “Hey there, Kakashi!” a voice then called, stirring him from his stalking. Jiraiya stood before, grand and grinning, hands on his hips. Kakashi’s face turned bright red.

               “Master Jiraiya!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t expect to see you in town.”

               “Well, I’m only back for the launch of my new book!” the sannin explained. “I’ve been traveling far and wide conducting some interesting research for it and if I do say so myself, I think it’s going to be quite the hit!”

               “Oh? What is it about?” Kakashi asked.

               “It’s a daring adult novel about two people and lure of romance! The main character and heroine, both new to love, begin dating, and their eyes gradually open to grown-up love!” Jiraiya explained.

               Kakashi’s heart leapt into his throat. He hoped Jiraiya hadn’t caught him spying, or else the sannin might be trying to advertise to a particular demographic. “Sounds…interesting…” he said slowly.

               Jiraiya patted the young ninja on the back. “I’m glad you think so!” he exclaimed. “Say, how about you come down to the Pink Bookstore tomorrow and I can get you a signed copy. Wait—you’re over eighteen, right?” Kakashi nodded. He had only just turned eighteen that past fall. The inquiry made him slightly nervous as to what he was in for. Before he had a chance to deny the offer, however, Jiraiya had run off after a gaggle of girls in short skirts. Typical.

               Kakashi had only heard of the Pink Bookstore in passing, mainly grumbled under Yuruganai’s breath. A new bookstore meant competition for Kaminoki, something the Natsuki clan was surely not appreciative of. A part of him felt like a traitor for stepping foot in a different bookstore, but he didn’t have much of a choice. Jiraiya didn’t give him a chance to say no and besides, considering the reception of his last book, the sannin was going to need all the support he could get.

               It took Kakashi three times longer to find his way to the bookstore. The crowd outside of Pink was so massive, Kakashi barely recognized the tiny shop. I guess Jiraiya’s new book is a hit after all, he thought to himself. With this many people, he wasn’t sure he wanted to go through with this. There was enough fanfare for Jiraiya to not even notice Kakashi’s absence, right? But then again, if he did…well, he didn’t want to think of the disappointment he’d cause. Accepting his fate, Kakashi sucked in a deep breath and weaved his way though the crowd.

               Despite being labelled a bookstore, Pink sold more than just reading material. Kakashi’s eyes immediately landed on a display of sex toys along the back wall and his face turned bright red. All around him were everyday citizens of Konoha, the least suspecting people, considering which dildo was the best for their needs and ogling at half naked women in dirty magazines.

               “There you are, Kakashi!” Jiraiya announced, seated at a folding table at the other end of the store. A hoard of people crowded around him, hugging his novel to their chest as they awaited an autograph. Kakashi rushed over, grateful for the distraction, and was handed a copy of Makeout Paradise. He studied the image on the orange cover, a lovestruck man chasing after a chesty woman. He hated to admit that it did, in fact, look enticing. Kakashi thanked the sannin quickly and then ducked out of the store with book in tow.

               Now to see what all the fuss is about, he thought to himself. He propped open the book as he walked, his eyes first landing on the author’s note on the front page.

                               This book was written thanks to years of research, and especially a variety of willing participants! Here’s to hoping this novel can serve as a guidebook to anyone facing their own relationship troubles because I’ve been there and I know better than anyone that women are fickle creatures! At the end of the day, though, there is just nothing more important than making out!

               Kakashi couldn’t say he was particularly surprised. The note that captured his attention the most, however, was “a guidebook for anyone facing their own relationship troubles.” Honestly, he didn’t particularly want to take relationship advice from Jiraiya of all people but considering his current predicament, this only intrigued him even more. As he began heading back to his apartmet, he flipped to the next page and began reading the first few lines. It was known far and wide that Koibito Island was the perfect spot for fiding love, and many young, eligible men flocked there to find gorgeous women to…

               Before he could even finish the first page, a passerby smacked right into his chest with a squeal. He blinked a moment, looking down, not immediately comprehending the situation. Staring back at him was perhaps the worst possible candidate for a random encounter.

               “Kakashi?” Rei exclaimed. The copy ninja’s face reddened. “You have got to be kidding me” she added, snatching the book right from his hands. She began flipping through it frantically but Kakashi snatched it right back from her before she could get a good look. The last thing he needed was for her to stick her nose in his business. Especially when that business, in a way, secretly involved her.

               “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, wagging a finger in her face. “You’re not eighteen.” He pointed to the large, red prohibition symbol on the back cover. Rei rolled her eyes and glared at him and for a moment, it was as if everything was as it once was between them.

               “What? Am I not allowed to inspect the book that’s going to put my family out of business?” she fired back. “How can you even read that crap?”

               Kakashi tilted his head curiously. “What do you mean?”

               “It’s just glorified porn—there’s no depth!” she explained.

               Kakashi knew just from the first few lines he had read so far, that his argument didn’t have much of a chance but he was willing to fight for it anyways. “It has depth” he argued.

               Rei’s face went deadpan. “I mean meaningful depth, not how far someone can jam their dick up someone’s asshole.”

               “Rei!” a young blonde shrieked from behind, her face turning bright red. Kakashi thought he recognized her as a girl named Naru, someone closer to Rei’s age. He didn’t know her very well.

               “I just have one question for you” Rei began through gritted teeth, rubbing her temples. “Where did you get that?”

               Kakashi paused a moment. He could see the temperature gauge of Rei’s tolerance nearing explosing proportions. There was something sinfully adorable about he when she was frustrated like this. Any sane person would know to be careful, but Kakashi wasn’t exactly one to pander. He had a pretty decent idea of just how far he could push her. A shit-eating grin spread across his masked face as he pointed toward the rousing crowd and replied, “The Pink Bookstore.”

               Boom. In one swift motion, Rei stole the book from Kakashi’s hands and did everything in her power to try and destroy it. A moment of panic surged through Kakashi’s body at the thought of her tearing apart what would perhaps be his best bet at winning her over but fortunately, Rei lacked physical strength. Everything she tried failed. Kakashi was safe. She eventually resorted to throwing it down on the ground with a shriek and stomping off back home. Kakashi couldn’t help but chuckle.

               The blonde, Naru, watched her storm away with a disappointed gaze which then trailed off to the book on the ground, and then slowly to Kakashi. “You really shouldn’t piss her off like that, you know” she stated, crossing her arms.

               Kakashi leaned down to pick up the novel and laughed. “I think she’ll be alright” he replied.

               “Do you?” Naru asked. There was a sharpness in her tone that quite frankly caught Kakashi off guard. “Because I don’t think you really know what you’re talking about here.”

               The copy ninja blinked, taken aback. “What do you mean?”

               “Well, last I checked you didn’t really seem to care much about Rei in the first place, so why should I trust your judgment on her wellbeing?” she asked. The way she tilted her chin up as she spoke, as if to project an air of authority, gave Kakashi an interesting insight into her character. She was dominating, subtle, clever. She would be hard to tiptoe around, like skipping through a minefield. One false step and you’re done—she was fully prepared to destroy him in the most underhanded and elegant of ways.

               “Th-that is far from the truth” Kakashi replied. His heart was pounding.

               “Then why don’t you try acting like it sometime?” Naru spat. “If she’ll even have you, that is.” She then turned on her heel to walk away but something about that last statement struck a nerve. Kakashi reached out and lightly gripepd her forearm, beckoning her back.

               “Wait, what do you mean ‘if she’ll even have me’?” he asked. Deep down, he already had a vague idea but he wanted to hear it straightforward. He needed to.

               Naru rolled her eyes but did not protest. “I mean that I don’t see any reason for her to welcome you back into her life as anything more than an occasional customer after you’ve done nothing but ignoe her for ten years” she explained. “Sooner or later, she’s bound to stop waiting around for you to care again. She’s not the weak little kid you once knew, Kakashi.”

               An invisible kunai pierced him through the chest as he watched Naru turn and walk away for good this time. He hated that she was right. After all these years, Rei had no reason to accept him. Clearly she was no longer the child he once knew. He wasn’t even sure if he knew anything about this version of her. How much had she changed? He propped open his book again and tried to lose himself in the text.

               That night, he stayed up until nearly dawn devouring Makeout Paradise. It was far better than he had ever expected—no wonder the turnout had been so great. It was the perfect blend of sweeping romance, burning tragedy, destructive secrets, and steamy sex. He couldn’t stand to put it down. His only problem was that the entire time, he could not stop thinking of Rei. He would go back and reread passages he thought perhaps had hidden messages in them about relationships and the complexity of women but he came up empty every time. It was really no use. As a guidebook, Makeout Paradise was a dud. He fell back onto his bed and sighed, locking his eyes on the ceiling. He spent the last few hours before his alarm sounded considering whether this was really a good idea or not. Maybe Naru was right. Maybe he had lost his chance. Rei had undoubtedly moved on. He thought back to the last time he stepped foot in Kaminoki, nearly two weeks ago. How distant and cold she was. Like a stranger. He scoffed at how much of an idiot he was. He remembered the promise he had made the very first day they had met, that he would be her ninja and protect her. So much for that. Why was it that every promise he ever made, he seemed to break? It had been five years since Rin’s death. He couldn’t stand to let the same happen to Rei. As he drifted off to sleep that night, he was enveloped in a darkness of spirit that so frequently touched him these days. By morning, his choice was clear. He knew exactly which road he needed to take.

               The life of a shinobi is dangerous and cruel. Every day, you put your life on the line and risk it all. Some say that a shinobi is so encompassed in his work that he cannot possibly manage a social life. Such an outlook is bleak but perhaps far too true for many. Kakashi reread the last few sentences of Makeout Paradise as he walked through the village, as if they were some mantra to repeat over and over in his head. Sometimes there are people that walk into your life just to serve a lesson—like to always wear a condom unless you’re certain your pullout game is strong. These temporary fixtures are no less important than the permanent ones. They provide the experience with which you refine your skills and channel the energy into your steady target. And sometimes things just aren’t meant to be. The math doesn’t add up. The cogs don’t function. And sometimes that is okay, too. At the end of the day, whatever’s meant to be will always find its way back in the end anyways. No matter how many twists and turns, that red string of fate will always lead you back to where you’re meant to be. You just have to have a little faith.

               Kakashi wasn’t too certain about red strings and fate, or if it even applied to him, but he knew one thing was for certain: whatever permanent fixtures he had left, he needed to protect with everything he had. And the only way to keep something safe from harm was to stay as far away from it as humanly possible. He tucked his book into his pouch and paused outside Kaminoki, clenching his fists at his sides. He prayed to whatever god was above that she would be working today. With a deep inhale, he peered inside to find her guiding a stout man in glasses toward a wall of instructional texts. He tried to absorb every detail of her: the way her auburn hair puffed out of her ponytail, the fringe that covered her right eye, the scar across the bridge of her nose and the crooked teeth she showed when she smiled. He needed to take in every little thing about her so as not to forget it. As she turned toward the window, he disappeared in a flash and something inside his chest felt as if it was shattering. He had made his choice. He refused to turn back. From this point onward, he vowed to never see Rei again.

[delicrieux]

god save the queen [ eggsy x reader ] 002

warnings: cussing (but this is kingsman...what do you expect???)

chapter summary: (name) goes to london and eggsy grants her wish

words: 2,200

MASTERLIST KO-FI. AO3. GSTQ masterpost. 7K GIFT!

custom suit

With a small smile you slowly fold a white blouse, make sure no wrinkles will form once it’s stuck in your suitcase for a couple of hours, before setting it neatly down into the big leather case with the rest of your belongings. You have been packing all morning, awoken at about 9 am, or about four hours after you returned from the bar with Eggsy. As far as you know he’s still dead asleep and probably hungover. You, however, being Agent Gin (damn that sounds cool) hardly feel anything at all regarding your brand of alcohol. Folding clothes is calming. You usually find packing tedious and you just throw everything in in whatever style and then pray that your suitcase will magically close, but this time you’re taking extra care. Possibly because you’re still a bit tipsy. And you were told by Champagne to make the best impression possible.

The two secret agencies had their fair share of disagreements over the years. The Valentine business caused a big falling out when they couldn’t decide which one should act, and both ended up trying to solve the issue separately and, well…A lot of people died. A lot of Statesman agents lost their lives, including Brandy, Sherry, Mead, Gin and many many more…You were promoted to Gin right after you finished training. Originally you had your eyes set on Palm Wine, but the agency suffered such heavy loses they took the best they had and placed them in powerful positions.

You are a good spy, you would possible be even better if you had enough time to actually train. You weren’t exactly as great of a shot as Tequila, nor could you use the lasso as expertly as Whiskey, but what you could do is charm your way into any situation possible. Granted, if you tried hard enough and you usually didn’t so besides ‘Gin’ people also call you a ‘Sarcastic Asshole’. You are quick to pick up accents, mimics; a thing you used to practice quite often back when you were just a little kid. You are a fairly good fighter, better than Margarita for sure, but you doubt you could take on any of the leading agents one on one. You wonder just how good Eggsy is. Normally you would’ve evaluated him already, but the Gin and Tonic is giving you a hard time.

Huh. So maybe you aren’t that resistant to it after all.

A knock on your door draws you out your thoughts and with a quick motion you shut the suitcase and click its locks shut. The door opens behind you and from the heavy steps you immediately recognise the person – Channing. That or you really are still drunk. Turning around you reward yourself with an invisible pat on the back - it is him after all! – and cross your arms over your chest. He leans onto the doorway, examines your room for a moment before his gaze falls onto you. A smile. He tilts his hat.

“Well lookie here, good mornin’, Gin. Thought you’d still be snorin’.”

“Tequila.”

“All packed up?”

You motion to the case behind you, “Just finished.”

He narrows his eyes at you, “Are my ears deceiving me, or are you actually nice for once?”

“Don’t get used to it.” You state, “It’s only because I will miss you so much when I go away.”

He grins, “Will you now?”

“No.”  You finish dryly, grasping the handle of your suitcase and mentally cringing on how heavy it is. Okay, perhaps taking so many ‘fancy’ clothes is a bit unnecessary, but you couldn’t help yourself. It will be your first time abroad and a real serious mission. Your first mission, to be exact.

Yeah, you’ve been Gin for barely two months.

Channing ignores your comment skilfully and motions to your suitcase, “Need some help?”

“Not really, but you can help yourself out of my way.” Your comment makes him laugh and you squeeze out a small grin of your own. With a quick step he allows you to pass and you do. The corridors are mostly empty. You meet Cider on your way out and he wishes you luck with a wave. You only nod. Before you know it, you are outside.

A bit cloudy. You suppose Kentucky is trying to ease you into the British weather. A parked car is the first thing you see; the second one is Eggsy sitting by the wheel. Neither Merlin nor Galahad Senior is present, and you guess they’re already home and awaiting your arrival. Much to your surprise Eggsy seems fine, though you do notice that his eyes seem a bit droopy and he is a bit pale. Throwing your suitcase into the trunk you shut it and move to sit down when—

“(Name)!” A squeaky voice calls after you and you snap your head to the entrance. Stacy Simons, with a bandaged lower lip and a black eye, smiles at you. You raise a brow.

“Mar…garita?”  You greet, unsure.

“I just…I just wanted to wish you luck and all…” She finishes dryly. You nod with an awkward smile.

“Well, thanks…You keep them’ boys on their toes while I’m gone, yeah?”

“O-Oh, of course! Have a safe trip!” She exclaims before ducking behind the door and disappearing. Still confused whether that really happened or not, you sit down and Eggsy, without wasting another second, turns the car’s engine on and presses the acceleration.

“Margarita?” He inquires, “Thought you Statesman had names of actual alcohol, not cocktails.”

“Listen, Egi,” You start, taking out your sunglasses and putting them on, “I am a bit sad that no one ever told you, but…” You look at him, “Size does matter. The more agents we have, the more mission we can do, and the more lives we can save. So what if there is a Cosmopolitan or Mojito running around! If, for instance, I meet my early demise, Margarita could theoretically take my place.” You finish explaining and he just shakes his head at you with a small smile. “How are you feeling, by the way?”

“Fan-bloody-tastic. And you?”

Nervous. Fine until I saw your face. The sun is physically hurting me. “Brilliant.” Your attempt to mimic a British accent is met with mocking laughter and you give him the cut-eye, “Completely unrelated, but can I ask you something?”

“Yea?”

“Do all brits sound like they have a cock in their mouth when they speak?”

He snorts, “Why?” His eyes shoot from the road to you, “That desperate that you’re actually hearing it now?”

“Ha! You wish.”

Eggsy is quiet for a single moment of consideration, before a smirk rises to his lips, “Maybe.”

Okay, this is not how you expected your morning to go.

~*~

Britain doesn’t feel that different, that much you’d admit. At first you figured you’d at least complain about the weather, about how the air feels musky and cold, but to tell the upmost truth you feel no different than when you were in Kentucky, perhaps more tired but in every way shape and form – fine. You did, however, take a liking to the new scenery: the polished architecture, conjoined houses and their perfect white fenced gardens, a couple of old-school cars parked in the posh side of London. It was easy to get lost in this world; the light drizzle of rain acted as an active comfort inducing substance and you almost melted into the leather seat of the car. You will enjoy your time here, you realized, you most certainly will.

Not until you reached the famous ‘Kingsman’ tailor shop did you glance at Eggsy – he was, for the most part, keeping his eyes on the road and still reaping the fruits of his nightly endeavours aka he was still hungover and now jet-lagged too. He parked the car and you unbuckled your seatbelt. Finally, after so many hours, you stretched your legs on British soil. Tilting your head to the side you eyed the suits neatly presented in the display. You don’t have such uniforms at Statesman, and for a brief moment you wondered will you be made one as a gift from one agency to another.

“Welcome to Kingsman.” Eggsy said, coming to stand by your side. He caught our gaze and smiled, well smirked, before hopping up the stone steps and opening the door for you like a true gentleman. You saved the urge to roll your eyes, bit back any comments and simply walked straight in, ready for whatever was waiting for you inside.

The briefing was quick. You met up with Merlin in the counselling room and listened carefully to the details. Not as exciting as you expected: you and Galahad Junior are expected to carry an expensive jewel that used to belong to the Queen and safely displace it in Italy, Rome. There was also something about assassination, but you missed that part. But apparently this black pearl, so small it’s barely the size of your pinkie’s nail, holds such great history that many fractions and black markets may want it. The instructions were to carry it around at all times: no shipping, no leaving it. It’s important to the Royal family. At least…of what’s left of it.

“I don’t get it.” You say after the meeting is over to your new partner for a couple of weeks at the very least, “Isn’t the Queen…dead?”

Eggsy gives you a strange look, one torn between amusement and disgust “About that, yea? Best not to mention the Queen to most folk. It’s a touchy subject.” He explains. You doubt he actually cares all that much, but it must be a British thing. Damn that Valentine, ruining everything for everyone.

The interior is exquisite and it almost rivals with Statesman’s main HQ. You can’t help but awe at the glistering wooden ornaments, statues of men you have never even seen in your life but they look important so you gaze at them with respect, the expensive cloths laying around, suits, bowties, ties…Everything a tailor can dream about, or a man with an extensive wallet. Eggsy leads you forward and you follow like a lost puppy.

“So…” He stops next to dressing room ‘1’, “How about that suit?”

You blink, feel a rush of confusion as your focus falls to him from the impressive portrait of a man with a goatee, “What?”

Eggsy opens the door, “You wanted a custom suit, yea? Or was it the alcohol takin’?” He looks sneaky and smug and if those glasses weren’t hiding his eyes you are positive you’d see mischief glisten in them. Your brows knit together forming soft lines between them. You glance at the gentleman by the counter with a metre thrown over his shoulder.

“You mean…” You trail, “He will make me one? If I asked?”

“Just get in, yea?” He doesn’t wait for your answer simply enters the small secluded room and you have no choice but to follow. The man behind the counter gives you a smile, as if the interaction between you and Eggsy never happened.

He shuts the door once you’re in. The room emits a strange musky scent, almost like cologne, the warm yellow glow of lamps bounces off the green walls and a wide mirror reflects both you and your partner, full length, exposing all of your and his details in brilliant light. You don’t fail to catch Eggsy’s smile, nor do you fail to notice him taking out a metre of his own.

You raise a brow, “What are you doing?”

“What’s it look like?” He shoots, “I’m sorry, love, but we have nothing here for ladies if you haven’t notice already.” He fixes his glasses and takes a step forward; with the tips of his fingers he gently presses the metre from your right shoulder to your left, his eyes trailing it carefully to make sure your measurements are correct.

“Don’t you have any female agents?” You inquire.

“Well,” He stops for a moment, “We have Roxy. Not many other that I know of.” And continues measuring.

“Wooow,” You bleat, “That’s sad.”

“Lift your arms, please.” He mumbles off-handed and you comply without a second thought. He ties the metre around your bust. A positive nod comes from him a second later and you surpass a sigh.

“You didn’t tell me you are actually a trained tailor.” You say as he crouches to measure just how long your legs are.

“Fuck if I know how to sow, but can’t be that hard, can it?”

tbc ( if you want to be tagged, let me know!)

tags: @writeasfitzsimmons un-education @ketterdame 

[fuck-customers]

This is very much a "fuck co-workers". This is long, so sorry about that. So I work at a dry cleaners. And for over a year I was the opener and basically almost manager at the store I work at. I got to lose all of my hours and my checks get cut almost in half or less because my co-workers fucking suck. What we basically do where I work is tag in the dirty clothes customers bring in(so we know who it belongs too), and give people back their finished clothes orders. We don't clean any of the clothes where I work. We do pillows but those are easy to do. Tagging things in, keeping the store clean and doing the cash out at the end of the night. But the morning person has to handle repairs(such as button fixes), doing the pillows(the night people are lazy assholes and won't do them) assembling the clean clothes that come back(putting them on the right orders, crossing off finished orders, putting finished orders in the computer and then putting them away. and if dirty clothes get dropped off while i'm assembling, i have to finish assembling BEFORE tagging them in) along with tagging in things that come in during the day, along with delinting clothes(like sweaters and wool jackets and shit) and doing foamies(things on hangers that prevent the clothes from falling off. the people who clean the clothes are too lazy to do it themselves and make us do it).

For a while, everything was running smoothly. One of my co-workers, we'll name her Bob, would complain to our manager if she had more than five bags to do. One day she texts me on a Tuesday(which was one of our busiest fucking days cause it was discount day) and tells me "when there's a lot you should stay to help me". I had already been there for eight hours, and I had already done my job. Anything not done from the morning shift IS the night person's job to do. And I explain to her what our manager had told me. That I have to finish assembling, and if I finish I can tag shit in. (But normally when she comes in things aren't even put away and I'm not done) I explain this and tell her that anything from the morning shift is hers to do. Now Bob, she knows how to do pillows, how to fix buttons and how to delint. She worked there longer than I did and was taught these things before I worked there. She was just in high school and could only do nights/Saturdays. She she's never actually worked a morning shift in her life(at the dry cleaners) and has no idea what being the morning person is like. Also a lazy piece of shit. And she argues that it's not her job and becomes a bitch about it. So the next day I go to my manager, show her the conversation(because I wasn't in the wrong. I explained to her exactly what was explained to me) and our manager had the exact same conversation with her that I did. But she was telling Steve(we'll call the manager Steve) that I was leaving 10+ bags of clothes for her to tag in. (Even when there were that many, there weren't more than five pieces of clothes in more than have of the bags total) We finally "stopped fighting" and were civil at work. She used to claim I talked down to her when I would literally start everything with "Steve told me to tell you this". But she would come in and ignore me when I'm talking to her, and telling her what's done, what she needs to do or doesn't need to worry about and wouldn't hear a damn word I say. Then text me later about things I already told her about. But we eventually got things sorted. But it also turned out Bob wasn't the type to do things as they came in. Which is what we're suppose to do. She would wait until the end of the night to tag everything in. On the bottom of the invoice that details the order, there's a time that the order was done. I could tell she was doing this because orders that came in at about 3'o'clock would be written down under the orders that came in at 7 in the book we had(we had to write down orders tagged in to be crossed off later when they were done). Basically she'd sit there on her phone the whole time. There was also a time when my mother was picking my up and dropping me off. And granted she was never there right when I got off, but like 20 minutes or so afterwards. Bob would do this thing where she would text me 30 minutes before her shift and ask if she could stay at the school longer to work on homework. She'd do this knowing that her school was 45 minutes away and she'd be late regardless. I didn't feel like walking home from work so the answer was almost always no. So I had to explain to her that I need her to be on time, and I also told the manager this as well. On Wednesdays she KNEW she couldn't be on time, and I'd have to walk cause of her ass, and asked to work every Wednesday. She also started doing this thing where she claimed a bag or two she left was a last minute drop off, although you can check what time in the computer it came in(and they were almost always dropped off at about five, and we closed at eight).

Couple of months later, we get two knew people, we'll name them Oliver and Rick. Oliver was in college, Rick was in high school. Bob was pretty much tasked with training them. She didn't train them or shit. They were always doing things wrong because she wasn't watching them. Then when she would watch Rick do his job, he would do it right when someone else is around but then do whatever the fuck he wanted while he was alone. But Bob told the pair that I left bags for them to do in the afternoon on purpose, and to leave bags for me. Now, added on top of the shit I had to do every day already, spending the first two+ hours of my shift catching up on the multitude of bags left for me meant there was more work for the closers to do when they arrived. It wasn't until Oliver started working mornings and realized that Bob was a lying bitch. But they weren't tagging in clothes correctly. They were putting orders under the wrong name or under no name because they didn't get the customers name. At the same time, the location that the clothes got cleaned at went from getting only our dry cleaning to our laundry and our dry cleaning and for about two months were two weeks + behind on orders. Customers were not happy with us and at this point we were losing about five customers a week. 

And Rick wasn't making things any better by having to be told everything about his job AGAIN every time he came in. Where to put the tags on shirts, pants, suit jackets. And at night, we have to put all of the paper cash and rolled up coins in a bag to hide that gets taken back out the next time we open. We leave the loose change in the drawer so we don't have to fucking sort it. For a long time, Both Oliver and Rick emptied the entire drawer into said bag. Until Oliver started opening and realized how fucking stupid it was to do that. No matter how many times it was explained to Rick or physically shown to him he still didn't get it. But between all of the closers, (and the computer acting up because it's old) the cash out that tells us if the money is okay(we're not missing any or something) and how much goes in the deposit had been off. Every morning and night the drawer is suppose to be at $100 dollars. For about three months it was over or under every fucking morning. Another lovely headache I got to deal with. And when it came to me telling the manager about these things, Steve would always go "I'm stopping over there tomorrow to talk to him/her/them" and then when the driver would arrive to drop off the clean clothes, a note from the manager would be there for whoever she planned on talking too. She never came to deal with these issues and sent letters to said employees. When it came to me working Saturdays(which I shouldn't have been because I opened every week), I was also suppose to train Rick. Out of the at least five Saturdays tat Rick was suppose to see how to open or close on Saturdays, he only showed up once. 

To top it all off, I was the only person not making $9.50 an hour. Last August minimum wage went up, and everyone else(including Bob) got their raise. Didn't matter how many times I brought it up to Steve or the owners, until Almost February I didn't get the extra .50 cent raise I was suppose to get. They still refuse to pay me the back pay(of over $300 dollars). So I get to play manager because my manager refused to come around, and I was literally getting paid the least among everyone when I was the only one doing my job. 

Two months into Rick working, Bob told me that on Friday(when we get paid) she showed up to get her check at 7:30 PM, and again, we close at 8 PM, and the store was closed. The lights were off and Rick was no where to be found, with the front door also unlocked. When Bob asked Rick about it, his excuse was "he had to feed his dog". When asked about the front door, he said he left it unlocked for the night driver to easily get it. The thing about Fridays is that the clothes don't get picked up at night. There is no cleaning done weekends, so our clothes from Friday and Saturday aren't picked up until Sunday. And Rick, had been told every Friday he worked(by me) that the driver does not pick up on Fridays. So the door would have been unlocked Saturday morning. He didn't even turn on the security system we had. A couple of weeks after this, Bob tells me about it. Asks is she should tell the manager. (At this point I wanted to bash her head in with a blunt object. LIKE OF COURSE YOU TELL THE FUCKING MANAGER.) So we had a meeting that very week, and Bob told the manager(and of course Rick didn't even show up for said meeting) and Steve tells us that it wasn't even the first time he'd left early. (It's like, so tell me, why is his ass still here then?) Then came Valentines Day. I was working in the morning, Bob and Oliver requested the night off so Rick was scheduled to work. I had a date(plus we open at 7 AM and close at 8 PM, I don't care how much fucking money it gets me that's 13 hours with NO break, NO food and CONSTANT work.) I wasn't staying. Rick calls Steve about 11 AM and asks to have the night off to take his girlfriend out to eat. Again, we close at 8. He could have worked AND taken his girlfriend out as well. He was told no. He later calls me and asks me to work, I tell him no I have a date(it was actually my first date ever. at all. I wasn't missing it for his ass.) He gave Oliver and Bob the same call. The answer was the same. Finally at about 2, one hour before his ass had to come in, he calls Steve with this story that his friend tried to kill himself and he can't come in. (Now if it were actually true, that sucks. But considering he spent all day trying to get out of work, literally no one believed him, but he said he wasn't coming in so we were fucked). Oliver was forced to work and I was almost late for my date because of his ass. Steve, Bob, and Oliver and I all discussed that he was probably lying, but we had no way to prove it. Bob told him about it, blamed Oliver and I for suggesting he was lying(when everyone was agreeing on it) and refused to pay Oliver(he said he'd pay her what he would have made working plus what she was getting paid for, so double the money) because we were "talking shit". There was even one day he came in all pissy and ended up arguing with me over what is his job(just like with Bob), only I ended up telling him to shut the fuck up. I shouldn't have, cause that's bad. I shouldn't talk to my co-worker that way. But the little fucker pissed me off. To top it all off, the final night he worked, he left early again. But quit the next morning before he could be fired. When he should have been fired several months before then. 

Before Rick had quit, almost all of his hours had been taken away so he was only working one day a week. Bob had taken all of his hours cause she wanted money. She also had a second job. The week of said shifts she worked a lot, she last minute put all of her shifts on Oliver because I can't open and close, and for at least two months got out of working every Saturday she was scheduled. Oliver basically worked every Saturday for months. (She ended up not minding because she needed the money). Bob later then quit cause she wasn't getting enough hours. It was after she quit that Oliver told me Bob painted me as the bitch who just dumped all of my work on the closers.

But despite all of the hard work I was doing to fix everything that the closers fucked up, on a daily fucking basis, all of my morning hours were taken away from me in order for the manager to come back and fix what they did. And for months, I was only getting one or two days a week while Oliver and Joe(someone who worked with us for a while, quit then came back) got most of the hours, and yet couldn't do their fucking job right either. A major fuck you, double middle finger to me basically. Steve would tell me, "it's a circle, it goes around". No bitch it doesn't. I'm not to blame if they do their job wrong. They are. 

Also, sorry if things are all over the place.

[jemthecrystalgem]

I just had a fucking shitty customer, i dont even know if they were trying to scam us or if they were just rude as shit for no reason. She claims she has some fucking coupons but instead of bring the receipts with said coupons she fucking took photos because "i dont want to have to bring them around" like. Sucks! Too bad! That's how we make sure we don't use them twice! I bet she has been fucking making the goddamn rounds with them, but I have no idea if it's not allowed to use screenshots of receipts so I can't not accept them. I wanted to try and read the fine print but she wouldn't even let me read the goddamn coupon code. Every time I would tell her what I was trying to do, to basically verify she wasn't trying to scam us, she would screech about how "it doesn't ring up twice!!!" and how she "knows how [our own goddamn computers] work" because she "does this at other stores of ours all the time!" Like, wow that's not suspicious at all!!! God forbid I verify you're giving us a legitimate coupon!!! I do the first one but I try to remember the numbers, and lo and behold the second one is real goddamn similar. It went through though so I might have been wrong, but when I tried to verify she was blatantly being confusing and unhelpful, which.... Either you're scamming us and you know I know or you're just being a massive asshole. She absolutely refused to even let me touch her phone, which is what she had the pictures on????? Why bring them on your fucking phone then!!!!! Oh yeah so you can fucking scam us!!!!! She kept going through what had to be at least six different pictures of receipts and god knows how many were potential duplicates. For some unfathomable reason she didn't just go through each in order, she kept scrolling back and forth like she didn't know the order she used them in. Like keep fucking track or delete what you've already fucking used. The whole goddamn time she wouldn't let me get close enough to see anything more than a goddamn blur of text going by while she scrolled through the pictures. Like, 1. JUST BRING THE FUCKING PHYSICAL RECEIPT. I don't give a shit you're too lazy to. 2. STOP ACTING LIKE A GODDAM CHILD WHEN I NEED TO HANDLE THE FUCKING COUPON. Maybe don't put it on your phone if it's so fucking precious!!!! 3. Don't be a fucking asshole because you're making the transaction 100 times more difficult than it should be and I need to make sure I am following policy. Just don't be a fucking asshole. Like fuck me. I was actually not in that bad a mood before her. Now she got on every last one of my nerves.

[nastymomcomic]

Totally sort of on hiatus, but WAIT

I left off on a note that I wasn’t doing good. So here’s what’s up. I quit my job that I hated and that hated me and it was killing me going there. Honestly the entire experience there could be a comic in of itself. I started changing almost instantly after starting there and my SO brought that to my attention close to when I decided to quit. My anxiety was through the roof, I was getting physically ill from it. It’s been about three months since I quit and I actually feel much better than I did.

The decision to quit came around the end of Christmas season (aka retail hell), my stress level hit it’s max. With work and with how things are at home, I became suicidal and started breaking my things instead of hurting myself. (On a side note I discovered I have a deep raspy yelling voice that would be perfect for an anime character) 

(This is kind of long so I’ll put one of those read more thingies)

I talked with my SO about it and I agreed to quit the job, get back on my anxiety medication , and get back into steady therapy. (I was given a new counselor and hadn’t been able to make it to therapy because of work.) Shortly after I started becoming viciously sick around my period, turns out I just have extremely bad pms to the point ai throw up and become Dr. Jekyll Mr. Hyde. It is horrible. I didn’t figure it was my period until recently though, for a while I thought I was bipolar or had the flu, even pregnant. Nope, it was just pms. I had no idea how common that is for women until it happened to me.

With the job, I had a lady curse me out because I had to charge her for  10 cent bag that she wanted a giant barrel of pretzels put into, which didn’t fit anyway. That wasn’t even my worst customer by far, but it’s definitely my favorite story to tell. (There will definitely be an episode about that bitch.) I hurt my wrist the first month I worked there and my supervisor never made a report refused to report it, so I wasn’t seen by their doctor, and none of my managers or coworkers were notified of my injury, so my workload and tasks weren’t changed. I went to the my doctor before quitting so I’d have the injury on record, he found it was a sprained wrist, and told me it wouldn’t heal because I’d been using it too much. (Which is why work is supposed to fucking change your work tasks when you have a fucking work related injury.) This same supervisor looked me up and down with the fucking stink eye during my interview and I knew she was going to be a problem, and I wasn’t wrong.

I spent a good two months trying to figure out exactly how to report that my workplace refused to make report for my injury, but at the end of it I just wanted to quit and be done with all of it. This lady had definitely been acting like that way before I worked there, there’s no way the company or at least the other managers weren’t aware of what she does. As much as I would like to get her fired for being a gigantic asshole, it’s not my job to babysit women in their damn 50’s. And she definitely wasn’t the only deciding factor. Besides the shitty customers treating me like shit on a daily basis, I only had  a handful of coworkers who were my saving grace there. They were awesome to work with and I genuinely looked forward to seeing them. But when they weren’t there, my calls would get ignored by my coworkers and managers, I’d find them all chilling out in the office, customers would be left waiting for over 30 minutes because no one wanted to answer me, it was just ridiculous. I could go on and on but I think my final straw was being told by a manager that I needed to “stop doodling” while at the register…. like fucking when??? I asked for clarification or a date on when I’d done such a thing and said manager refused to explain or anything.

I mean, that and when I changed my availability for health reasons. I was working full shifts and 4 days out of the week during peek Christmas season, and changed my availability to just one day a week. Car broke down and you know, I was suicidal and loosing my mind. I made sure to change my availability only after peek was over, but gave management a heads up so they had time to fill shifts. Shit supervisor was the one I had to talk to about it first and she said ‘You’re kidding me, you’re changing your availability during peek?” And I’d had enough of her shit so I sad=id back “No I’m changing it after peek next week, but I’m doing the considerate thing and notifying people now.”

Fucking bitch. Like wow I wrote it was for medical reasons, thank you so much for your fucking concern.

The ironic part was they said I was doing absolutely great, but I’d stopped giving all my fucks over a month ago and started half assing my job like the people who got all the credit for slacking off while others and myself did circles around them. Now that I stopped doing my job well, they liked me? lmfao hwwaaaaat? When I was busting my ass I was always told I was “straggling” and needed to do better. I just… how does that even work? forget it, I don’t work there anymore, it’s not my problem. I quit without giving two weeks notice. I wrote my resignation letter before my shift, and when my shift was done I quit on the spot. Shitty supervisor never looked happier. (lol I bet)

It was weird, that place had fast turnover, but also had people who had been working there for ears. (Shit supervisor had been working there 17+ years) And now I totally get why.

The minute I walked out of the break room knowing I never had to work there again, I felt a giant weight lifted from my entire body. It was absolutely amazing. Thing is, me not having that job doesn’t even make a dent in my income because it was so far away, it had shitty hours, and I was spending so much money on gas to get there. It was absolutely pointless. Now I can focus on things that actually benefit me and build my future.

So I’m back in therapy back on my meds, not having the life drained out of me, and Nmom has been in therapy for like 5 months now and she’s starting to actually be normal, it’s like she’s learning to manager her emotions or something. I don’t trust it, but it makes things a lot easier and I’ll take the quiet while I can get it. Bad news is my grandpa is in the hospital right now, he nearly died, had to have a pacemaker out in him. It’s been a big ordeal but it could be worse. SO things are changing for me again, someone has to be there for him and it’s actually going to be me and Nmom seeing as no one else will. Things are a bit up in the air but I know it could of been worse so I’m just thankful.

My SO is going to be moving soon to his own place and I’ll be living with him half of the week and the rest of the week with my mom and probably with my grandpa when he finally comes home. Honestly I am scared, but I’m also determined. I decided to go back to school, pay off bills, invest in things I need to do, and get back to what I love or I think my soul will die if I don’t.

The comic nasty mom will be back soon, and eventually, it will have to end as well. I’ve found that I tend to reopen wounds through my muse, so i need to find a way to really really, really make this comic for myself. I also tend to care about others more than myself, even in my art. I haven’t really been doing this comic for myself at all, I think I’ve been doing it for others more than for myself. And I need to change that. I’m glad my comic has been able to make others smile and laugh, and it definitely will continue to. But I need to change how I approach my art and life if I want to start taking care of myself seriously.

For now I’m going to start getting my feet wet again with my art and buy a new scanner because mine broke like 4 months ago, and the bastard gave me a bruise last week on my foot. (printers are evil!!!!) There will definitely be a lot of drawings and work sketches to show, so that’s good.

I just got on birth control last week and I’m starting to feel some of the changes and stuff. I’m taking care of my body and hopefully my pms doesn’t make me go crazy. Last week I cried because my SO bought me french fries, and an hour before that I wanted to throw my iced coffee at people because Starbucks mad it wring and I was already nauseated and I got more nauseated because there wasn’t enough creme…. yeah, I’m a mess ahahahah.

I’m doing a lot of soul searching for sure right now, but I’ll be back soon! And with more art! And possibly another comic for when this comic finishes! (Shhhh that part is a secret!)

Until next time, I’ll always reply to comments, and I have a ask box on my tumblr as well. I have tumblr and instagram so that should keep readers and friends a little entertained while I’m away!