#it had my name written all over it in huge neon letters!!!

[omaano]

Tatooine's Haven for Wayward Souls by @angelwingsl3

Rating: Mature Archive Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Important Tags: vampire!AU, vampire!Din, witch!Cobb, temporary character death (related to vampire thing), mild bloodplay, oral sex, minor medical kink, hurt/comfort, finger sucking, some off screen violence

Summary: Din Djarin was bitten and killed by the Vampire Gideon during their battle on the light cruiser. For better or worse, Boba Fett refused to let him go. Instead, he gave Din his blood and brought him to Tatooine and Marshal Cobb Vanth- a known witch and the protector of Freetown. Not just escaped slaves live within the town’s borders; a whole manner of monsters live there, safe from themselves and those who seek to hunt them.

~*~

It was so amazing to illustrate a story was seemingly tailored to my personal tastes (vampire Din and witch Cobb are SO my thing, I did not expect to work on a project with them like this omg!), and @angelwingsl3 wrote such a great, moody and spicy little story, and it was so so lovely to work with them! And thank you @staranon95 and @cryptids-and-starlight for organizing this event! <3

[ash5monster01]

Perfect To Love Part 11

Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader!PlusSize

Warnings: fluff, mentions of bullying, body image issues, fat shaming, angst, trust issues, language.

Summary: Beth Walker was used to living in the shadows. She had only one friend and anyone else who paid her mind usually bullied her for her size. So she learned to keep her mouth shut, her head down, and her heart closed because she had to accept the fact that she would be nothing more than the fat girl to people. That is until Robin decides Beth needs more in life and that might just include a boy who she never would’ve thought could see her for who she truly was.

word count: 3,437

a/n: sorry it has been so long friends, I’ve had my wisdom teeth removed and am still in recovery but plz enjoy <3

Part 10 ←→ Part 12

Masterlist

Beth wouldn’t go as far to say she was popular. She was still far from it, but ever since Steve Harrington held her hand in those bleachers the kids at school started to treat her better. Some going as far as talking to her and getting to know her. Now that she didn’t have this huge target on her back she didn’t hate going to school anymore. She didn’t even care if the kids were doing it to get close to Steve, for once she could take a breath of relief when she walked through those doors. For once she got to know her classmates and become friends with them. It’s all she ever wanted out of high school.

“Hey Beth, wait up” Beth turned at the call of her name and Robin almost slammed into her from their sudden stop.

“Hey Claire” Beth said kindly even though confusion was all over her face. Claire was one of the most popular girls in their grade, best friend with Chrissy Cunningham, and Captain of the Cheerleading squad.

“Hey I just wanted to give you this” Claire pulled a neon pink sheet from the stack in her hands, passing it to Beth just to see three dancing skeletons, holding wine glasses, and ‘Come for the Boo’s’ written in bold letters above them. Below was Claire’s address and information about the Halloween Party she’d be throwing.

“A party?” Beth questioned and Robin peered over her shoulder to take a look at the posters that definitely cost more than 80 cents to print.

“Yes, Tina passed the torch down to me for the big Halloween Bash this year. I figured you and Steve could come, and your friends” Claire gestured to Robin and Robins eyes widened as she realized she had been invited too.

“Of course, thanks Claire” Beth told her with a soft smile and the blonde girl moved on, like it wasn’t completely bizarre to be inviting Beth Walker and Robin Buckley to a party.

“Are you gonna go?” Robin questioned as they continued their walk to their next class.

“I mean, I don’t see why not. No one harasses me anymore. It could be fun” Beth shrugged tucking the flyer into her folder.

“Even though she was definitely inviting you to get Steve there?” Robin questioned and Beth chuckled.

“Yeah, it’s not like she’s going to steal Steve from me. We’ve been dating for a little over a week and if he does run off with Claire I know you’ll just kick his ass for me” Beth told her as they reached their classroom, slipping into the desks beside each other.

“That’s very true” Robin pointed out and Beth laughed, permanent blush still on her cheeks because she was dating Steve Harrington. They had to of been in the twilight zone.

“The real question is, is my best friend going to go to this party with me?” Beth looked at Robin with a hopeful look and Robin beamed as she realized she could actually join her two best friends at her first real high school party.

“I thought you’d never ask”

And that was how Beth, Steve, and Robin made plans to go to this silly Halloween party. This time accompanied by each of the kids. Steve had put up a fight, a permanent scowl on his face, because the last thing he wanted to do at a party was babysit. But Beth and Robin assured him they’d watch out for the kids and if anything started to go wrong they would call Nancy and leave. Beth had tried to get Nancy to come along but she planned to call Johnathon and couldn’t be persuaded.

Beth had been able to convince the group to do The Goonies. Her and Steve as Brand and Andy, Robin as Andy’s best friend Stef, Mike after putting up a fight was Mikey, Lucas as Mouth, and Dustin as Data. Max sadly got stuck home with her Mom, helping her move things into their new home. Yet she didn’t complain considering her only options were Mama Fratelli or Sloth. Lucas on the other hand had been sad because he wanted his girlfriend there for their first high school party. Apparently since Billy passed away things between them had been rocky.

“I can’t believe I let you convince me to do this” Steve said squeezing Beth’s hand, looking cute as ever in the red sweat bands that came with his costume. All Beth could do was grin.

“They’re good kids Steve, not like you were in high school” he faked a gasp but Beth’s giggles kept him from feigning hurt feelings. All he could do was laugh along side her.

“The minute I see Dustin try any alcohol we’re out of here” he told her, leaning down and capturing her giggling lips in his own.

“What about me?” Beth asked once he pulled away and he chuckled.

“You can get as drunk as you want, but if your father asks, I had nothing to do with it” Beth laughed again as the group now made their way into the house. It was mainly dark, the music loud enough to make Beth’s ears ring, and the temperature inside was drastically different from the cool 50 degree weather outside.

“Stick together, no alcohol” Robin pointed at the kids as they made their way in the house, grins from ear to ear. They were officially high school partiers. Even crazier, Beth was the reason they were even there. They all ruhed off, not even reacting to what Robin had said causing the young girl to sigh.

"I'll grab us some drinks" Steve said, side stepping behind Beth as he gave her shoulders a squeeze. Robin looked up hopeful, seeking out comfort in an alcoholic beverage despite never have trying it before.

"Strong ones" Robin said and Steve just laughed, knowing Robin would more than likely be drunk two sips into a fruity wine cooler. Yet he pretended to obey as he disapeared into the kitchen. Beth used this moment to survey the room, costumes either intricate or half assed. No in between.

“This is surreal” Beth chuckled to her friend only to see her gasp as her eyes settled on something across the room.

“Vickie is here” Robin hissed before shifting to stand behind Beth. Beth only laughed because Robin could see clear over her head, she wasn’t much of a shield.

“She’s dressed like Molly Ringwald in Sixteen Candles, wow” Beth said as she spotted their red headed friend, pink dress, and blue flower crown. Beth quickly waved to to the girl. “Hi Vickie!”

“Beth! Hey!” Vickie waved back and Robin grabbed her friends arm, making her stop almost instantly.

“Beth are you kidding? I don’t know what to say to her outside of band” Robin seethed as the red headed girl approached and Beth just rolled her eyes.

“I’m right here, calm down-“ but then Eddie Munson was twirling Beth, higher than a kite, and shocked to see the girl who forced him to do homework at a party of all places. As he pulled the girl away Beth gave Robin a sheepish smile, watching Vickie approach her.

“Beth Walker, is it actually you or am I just really greened out?” he asked curiously, hunched over to look her in the eye.

“Hey Eddie, what’s your costume? Burnout?” Eddie chuckled, a slight shake to his head. Costumes weren’t really his thing.

“It’s you all right” then his eyes flicked up behind her just to see Steve approaching as the Brand to her Andy. “Apparently with Harrington too”

“Munson, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you were trying to steal my girl” Steve appeared beside her, costume to match, drinks in hand.

“Beth’s too good for me, she knows that” Beth blushed, never realizing Eddie had thought of her like that. “But you Harrington, you always snag the good girls”

“Alright, stop the pissing contest. Thanks handsome” Beth grinned at Steve, stealing a drink from the two in his hands. Steve blushed and she wasn’t sure if she actually had that affect on him or he had already taken a few sips before finding her.

“Dustin is here, might be nice to have an extra eye on him and the kids. Keep them out of trouble” Steve told Eddie, now business. He knew Dustin liked Eddie, he didn’t have to like it but if someone else was keeping him out of trouble he could accept it.

“No way, Dustin Henderson at a party. I’ve got to see this with my own two eyes” and as quick as he appeared, Eddie disappeared in search of his young Hellfire apprentices.

“Wow, this is strong” Beth told Steve after taking a sip but that didn’t stop her from giving him a grin and chugging some more.

“You’re gonna be the death of me Walker” he told her but she gave him a pout.

“Save the last names for people like Eddie” she told him and he felt his heart swell over how cute she was. He had never thought he could be so attracted to a bigger girl before but now nobody could compare. He was obsessed with Beth Walker and he wanted to make sure she knew it.

“You’re gonna be the death of me Bethany” shivers chilled her spine at the deep and sultry way her said her full name. She had always regretted answering Beth when Tommy asked her name, figuring he so easily turned it into Bertha. She was just so used to everyone calling her Beth for short. Steve calling her Bethany was something so personal she was sure to never get tired of it. That and B.

“Same goes for you Steven” she told him, grin covering her lips. Before she could react his lips were on her own in a sweet kiss, taking a small taste of the cherry lipgloss and alcohol to go with it.

“Let’s hit the dance floor baby, I got some new moves” he grinned and she just giggled, hand curling into his own as he led her to the dance floor. On her way her eyes flitted over the crowd, saying hi back to people who actually offered hellos for once. Then she spotted Colin, eyes trained on her and knuckles white from gripping his beer bottle. She wasn’t sure if he was angry about her attendance or Steve, she wasn’t sure about anything with him anymore.

As the night progressed Steve and Beth had put away quite a few drinks, spent a good hour or three on the dance floor, joined by Robin after she chugged her wine cooler to forget the embarrassment of stumbling over her words in front of Vickie. Beth realized it didn’t matter if she was here or not, as long as she was dancing with her friends. Lucas had been long gone, guilt ridden of leaving behind Max. Steve fought his departure for only a moment before allowing it. Now Dustin and Mike sat squished on either side of Eddie, deep in conversation about their latest campaign.

“I’m gonna grab a new drink” Beth yelled over the music, the alcohol making her more confident and Steve more affectionate towards her.

“Alright sweet thing, we’ll be here” he told her, hands squeezing at her waist and she was too drunk to care, even though his lust filled eyes set her insides on fire.

“Don’t cause too much trouble” she told him before scurrying off to the kitchen to find herself a refill. For the first time all night the kitchen had been abandoned and Beth appreciated the space for a moment.

“So you and Harrington are a real thing huh?” Beth jumped as the voice appeared beside her, some rum slipping up the side of her cup and onto the counter.

“Colin, you scared me” Beth said, ripping a paper towel and cleaning her mess. It was silly really, considering the whole house would be a mess by tomorrow, but she did it anyway.

“I figured you’d date a more quiet type like yourself” he said before slugging back a sip of his beer. He wore a bed sheet as a toga, half his chest peeking out from the white fabric. Colin Matterson was an asshole but at least he wasn’t ugly.

“I’m not quiet, you only think that since no one bothered to treat me like a real person” Beth told him, pouring some coke into her cup. She had made this drink stronger but only because it scared her that she was now somewhat comfortable alone with Colin.

“Guess I should have” he said and suddenly it was like all the air was sucked out of the room. “Considering everyone likes you now because of Harrington. I always figured it would be the other way around, torture the person dating you for dating you. If I had known it would be like this maybe I would’ve actually made a move”

“You don’t get to say things like that to me” Beth shook her head, taking a step back and a sip from her drink.

“Why not?” he asked, his beer bottle clinking as he slammed it into the counter.

“Because Colin, you’ve been my worst bully for years. You can’t just turn around now because you realize your reputation won’t be hurt” Beth was trying her best not to yell but once Colin jumped off the counter, vein appearing in his forehead, she realized the yelling was about to come.

“You don’t get it Beth! I fucking hated myself for liking you. I thought I was broken, that I couldn’t like the skinny cheerleaders that threw themselves at me. That I was into fat girls. I worried I’d never be attracted to anyone and people would judge me for the rest of my life for being attracted to you!” Beth gaped, shocked he even thought this was any argument at all. Calling her fat, hating himself for liking her. Who fucking cares!

“That’s where you’re wrong Colin. If you can’t see me for anything other than my size you have no grounds to stand on for liking me. Being fat isn’t all that I am! I’m fun, loud, happy, pretty, and yes fat. But if you can’t see that then maybe you are broken, but not in the way you think!” Beth yelled back, anger bubbling to the surface. She wanted to hit him, just like Steve did. Yet she knew it wouldn’t solve anything for her.

“I don’t know what to do Beth” he suddenly said so quietly she tried not to feel bad for him. He was confused, confused about why he didn’t like things most people liked. That he was different from normal. It was probably similar to how someone came to terms with being gay when being told it was wrong their whole life.

“I can’t fix it for you Colin, but I suggest you start liking people based on who they are and not what they look like. I ended up with Steve because he got to know me without someone asking him too, and that makes all the difference” Beth now at the mention of Steve instantly wanted to be comforted by him so she started for the kitchen door, absolutely no interest in hearing what he had to say.

“Hey what took so long?” Robin panted, giddy from dancing and drinking. Good thing they already figured to call Nancy for a ride home.

“Got stuck talking” Beth said, nuzzling into Steve’s side who just grinned. Beth wasn’t one to initiate intimacy so he wrapped his arms around her, guaranteeing she wouldn’t scurry off.

“Everything okay” he asked ducking down and whispering into her ear. Her free hand curled around his neck as she went to whisper back.

“It is now” she told him, suggesting that being close to him made it better. Then for the first time she pressed a sweet kiss to his lips, chest pushing against his own. She felt goosebumps rise under her hand on the back of his neck and it made her heart flutter to think she could give him goosebumps. All this time she thought no one would ever like her, see for themselves how great she was, and now she was giving Steve Harrington goosebumps.

“Ugh get a room” Robin groaned and Beth pulled back from Steve as she giggled, him still hunched over to keep his head near her own.

“I think Robin has had enough to drink” Steve said as he spun Beth around, pressing her back against his front and chin falling onto her shoulder.

“Actually I don’t think I’ve had enough, maybe one more and I won’t think about vomiting watching you two make out” she said and Beth laughed loudly, the sound causing Steve to pull her in tighter.

“She’s drunk, she’s normally team us making out” Steve said to Beth as if Robin wasn’t standing in front of them, swaying from the alcohol.

“She’s just jealous because she wants someone to make out with” Beth whispered back and Steve pressed a soft kiss to the side of her neck, half drunk and caught up in the taste of her. Beth felt the kiss all the way to her core and unintentionally pressed her ass further back into Steve. It was like her body knew how to react to his touched despite never being touched like that.

“Careful baby” Steve warned, his voice breathless. Beth turned crimson red as she realized what she had just done, the blush heating all the way to her ears.

“Alright, I’m done dancing” Robin said once she realized what was happening and rushed away. Steve kept Beth in front of him, careful not to let her move.

“You look surprised” Steve muttered, trying his best not to scare her but he was drunk and she was just so damn beautiful he couldn’t help it. Most of the night he spent fighting with himself to not look at the cleavage spilling over her white top.

“I just didn’t think I was capable of turning anyone on” Beth whispered and Steve let out a deep chuckle, closing his eyes and counting to three.

“Well Beth you are very capable, so just please don’t move” he said breathily, eyes closing shut as he pressed his forehead to her shoulder, trying to calm himself down. Beth found herself briefly wondering what Steve looked like all fucked out, probably pretty, like always. She had never had any interest before but the mix of alcohol and attractive guy stuck to her made her think differently.

“Sorry, but I have to kiss you right now” and against his wishes she turned, her front now pressed against him as she grabbed his face and pressed a slow and sweet kiss to his lips. Steve moaned lightly into her mouth and she realized now that if she was to lose Steve she would absolutely never recover.

“Alright we’re leaving, call Nancy” he muttered against her lips and Beth laughed as she kissed him again.

“So I can’t come over?” she teased and Steve groaned.

“Beth, I’m serious. It’s only been two weeks and I don’t need you seeing how badly I’m into you” Steve said and Beth sighed, sealing his lips with another kiss before another to his cheek, neck, and throat.

“Fine we’ll call Nancy” she told him and he still had his eyes shut, probably trying to remember all of the presidents and she just shook her head.

“The kids are watching please stop!” Beth turned to see Eddie was holding his hands over Dustin and Mike’s eyes. She giggled before shaking her head.

“We’re done, promise. Boys get ready to go” Beth instructed and Eddie removed his hands as they moved to obey.

“Looks like you need a cold shower Harrington!” Eddie called out and the boys both made grossed out faced as they collected their things and moved to join the group.

“Looks like you just need a shower Munson” and the boys laughed including Eddie who still wasn’t entirely sure about the Harrington boy.

“You’re probably right Steve, have a good night kiddos” he told them and Beth found Robin as they moved to the door, Steve going to call Nancy who thankfully wasn’t too far away.

“I’d say our first party was a success” Robin told Beth, her arm locked within her own, ready to have a sleepover, and pick on Alan during breakfast the next morning.

“Me too, it was more fun than I thought”

Taglist: @kindablackenedsuperhero @rinarecommends @starryeyedpoet17 @crustless-toast @loverofmarsss @alexa-33 @bethanysnow @middle-of-the-earth @princessadriana4-blog @mochminnie @legendaryhumandiplomatgoop @a-lil-bit-nuts @i-came-as-bostonian @krazyk99 @thunderstomp-and-tequila @cumslutforaemond @futuristicbirdtraveler @unholyhuntress

Comment if you want to be added to the tag list :))

[mintchanniemint]

[angst ; wordcount: 2k]

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

pt.1 ; pt.2

[08:49 a.m]

The warm, sweet smell of freshly baked chocolate croissants quickly filled up the small kitchen in Chan's apartment. He had a day off and after going to the bakery nearby to treat himself to a nice breakfast, he checked the mailbox and strangely found, among the different advertising magazines and usual bills he had to pay, a letter addressed to him. 

He left it on the counter and kept staring at it while taking big, slow bites of the warm brioche in his hand. His mind started wandering from one thought to another, he really didn't know who could possibly leave a letter to him since he usually kept in touch with people either via emails or texts.

But suddenly, a specific thought flashed in his mind for a fraction of seconds. He stopped chewing on the croissant as he slowly walked closer to the counter and his eyes analyzed the handwriting properly. 

"I'm so dumb…" 

He mumbled to himself, a big sigh following right away. He left his unfinished breakfast on the small table and his fingers quickly traced his name written on that envelope. It was your handwriting, he couldn't explain why he didn't recognize it the second he saw it, but it was probably because he convinced himself that the two of you weren't gonna cross paths anymore. 

What was the content of the letter? Why did you leave a letter? And when? Why not a text message? 

Chan quickly shook his head, annoyed by all those unanswered questions floating around in his head, and he rapidly opened the envelope, but he closed it again right away, cowardly. 

"Dear Chan…" 

That was all he read. Yet, he felt scared. Scared of what you carefully wrote for him in that piece of paper. He felt so small and coward, but at the same time he knew it was wrong to just ignore it. He also had to admit that if he was already over you, he probably wouldn't have felt this way at all. 

"Three, two, one…" 

He got the piece of paper out of the envelope and took a deep breath before letting his eyes absorb every single word written on it.   

"Dear Chan, 

Yes, yes it's me. I don't know why I'm not texting you. I promised myself I wouldn't have contacted you but here I am… a coward as usual!" 

He lightly bit his bottom lip as he snorted and looked away for a moment. You didn't change at all, no matter how much time had passed. 

"But don't expect something long. No, this is something important and I want to keep it as short as possible so you can read this quickly."

His mind was telling him to stop reading. 

Why am I even reading this? We're not together anymore-

But he actually cared so much. Cared for a relationship he, himself, had ruined with his own hands. 

"Focus, Chan. Focus."

He sounded mad at his own thoughts, and decided to proceed with reading the rest of the letter. 

The piece of paper slowly left his hand as it delicately reached the floor, by his feet. 

"...so you can read this quickly. 

Thank you, Chan. Thank you and sorry. 

Thank you for keeping me warm during lonely, cold nights. 

Thank you for showing me how bright your eyes can shine whenever you smile. 

And thank you for breaking me, too. I was able to get up again, maybe with some scars, but I'm not gonna stay stuck here. We have to move on. 

I don't have any bad feelings for you. Thank you for loving me, and thank you for letting me love you.

I'm actually leaving tonight, you know, I acc accepted a job overseas. 

I wish you the best, always. "

Leaving?

Why were you leaving? Was it because of him?

A relationship that Chan knew he had completely ruined. He wasn't able to make you as happy as he thought he was, he actually hurt you multiple times and didn't know how to fix it, until it reached a breakpoint. And after letting you down, he just thought it was better to leave you. Because he didn't want to hurt you more than he had already done. 

His fingers started running through his messy hair, messing it up even more than it was already ruffled. His mind was running even faster than a few moments earlier and he was feeling somehow lost. 

What was he going to do? He noticed that you left the time of your flight in the letter, did he have to meet you there? Were you actually trying to leave a message to him? Were the two of you really over that relationship? 

What were you telling him? What was he supposed to do? 

"Gosh, this is destroying my mind." 

His voice filled the silence in the kitchen with slight anger and confusion. 

Did he actually want to go and meet you? Was it going to be worth it? What if you two ended up arguing? 

He reached for the piece of paper, leaving it on the table as he tried to finish his breakfast, although his hunger was already more than gone. 

His mind once again drifted away as he let the sweet, warm taste of chocolate fill his senses. His eyes focused on those few words at the end of the handwritten letter. 

Bite after bite, he could feel his own thoughts getting more and more mixed up. 

As he arrived home, he left the grocery bags on the table in the kitchen and sat down, his eyes automatically moving to the handwritten letter, that simple yet scary letter. 

He felt like a weird pang in his heart decided to bother him.

As he tried his best not to think about that letter, he tried to get distracted throughout the day; he went out for a stroll, met with some friends, and went grocery shopping. Yet that weird feeling in his chest wasn't leaving him alone. It really felt like something was wrong, not in its place… 

Chan took a deep breath and put that letter back in its envelope. He finally made up his mind, there wasn't much time left before you would have left the country. He had to meet you. 

"What should I do…" 

He sighed soundly, his heart tightening, his throat suddenly feeling dry as his hands caught that piece of paper for the thousandth time that day. Reading and rereading those few sentences, his eyes couldn't help but let his mind memorize the time you had written at the end of the letter. There, before your signature, at the corner of the paper. 

[9:23 p.m]

He tried his best to look somehow good; he kept his hands from distractedly ruffling his hair, he didn’t fidget too much with the hem of his coat because he knew he would have ruined it somehow. He didn't want to look like a whole mess, he didn't want that to be the last image you would have had of him vene though it was getting quite difficult for him to hide it.

He sighed once again, leaning his head against the window of the cab, on his way to the airport, as the bright neon lights of the city were occasionally caressing his features while he let the soft, distant music coming out of the radio fill up his mind, accompanying his thoughts. 

Chan kept mumbling to himself the time you wrote in that letter as he looked at all the huge screens listing the different flights. He was scared he was late, maybe he didn't understand the letter properly. Maybe it was all something his mind made up for him, maybe-

Once he arrived, he didn't hesitate much before entering that huge building; seeing that huge crowd of people, bright white lights, luggage, voices, smiles, cries.

It felt as if the realization started to hit him. 

You were leaving. You were leaving the country, you were leaving him and all the memories you were able to make with him.

And that was going to be his last chance to see you again. 

As his mind kept running through irrational thoughts, his eyes met with yours. You were in a queue, waiting for your turn for the check-in. You were wearing a warm coat, a black scarf covering and warming up your neck while your fingers were distractedly tapping on your suitcase. 

Chan felt like time stopped the moment your eyes met with his. He just looked at you, a little bit out of breath, as one of his hands went through his hair, ruffling it. He bit his lip and looked down for a second, probably cursing at himself for ruining his looks. 

You mentally pointed out how his hair was longer than you remembered. Before you could notice anything else, it was finally your turn to the check-in. Your mind kept giving you so many rushed thoughts, as if you were somehow thrilled to be seeing him after so long. You unconsciously didn’t expect to see him, you had to admit it. So much had happened in the past months; since seeing him at work was getting unbearable, you asked for a shift with a colleague in order not to see him when you were there, not even on accident and then you got that job offer and didn’t even think about it twice before accepting. You saw it as a chance to leave everything behind.

Chan quietly stayed there, his hands both in the pockets of his coat as his eyes couldn't leave, not even for a second, your figure. 

As Chan saw you walk closer to him, he froze. He felt like he was supposed to run away, as if he couldn't face you nor deserve to even talk to you. 

"Have a safe flight!" 

You thanked the lady in front of you with a smile and a nod as you walked away from that huge queue, directed to the gate for your flight. 

You kept getting closer and closer to where he was standing. 

His heart was racing, that ache not leaving his chest as your figure just kept getting cleaner and closer to his eyes. 

You stopped a few steps far from him, enough to hear each other. 

"Hey, you got the letter." 

"Yeah, I did. I… I did, yeah." 

As you were able to better observe his face, you noticed how his eyes were weary, his hair was messy because of excessive ruffling and he overall looked so exhausted. You couldn’t help but worry for him.

"Are you okay-" 

"Chan, it's not just your fault-" 

"I'm sorry." 

He blurted out so quickly, he probably didn’t even hear your question. His eyes not brave anymore to keep eye contact with yours. 

"I should have known better. It is my fault."

"It's okay. Maybe we just weren't meant to be." 

"Don't... say that." 

His voice sounded full of pain and regret as you slowly walked closer to him.

You gently placed two fingers under his chin, encouraging him to make his eyes focus on yours. 

"Then, Chan… Do something to make me stay." 

Those few, painful words left your lips in a hidden, loud and surreal cry as your eyes were trying to stay strong and keep eye contact with him. 

Chan was there, in front of you, his lips slightly parted as you could tell panic was slowly filling his mind. His hands ruffled his slightly long hair again and as he did so, you started taking a few steps back, ready to turn and walk away. 

“Anything.”

You insisted, your hand leaving his chin.

And you suddenly found yourself in that warm, familiar hug. A hug you had missed for months, already. A hug you thought you were not going to experience anymore. 

"Stop it!" 

His loud voice pierced your ears, followed by a swift, messy row of footsteps sounding louder and louder as you felt his hand grabbing you by the arm. 

"Whatever I try to say, it will only make things worse."

He mumbled between soft sobs as you could feel his embrace getting tighter around your waist. 

"Maybe it's just supposed to go this way." 

You tried to hide your trembling voice as much as possible as you closed your eyes, your hands now reciprocating the desperate hug. 

"Thanks for letting me love you, Chan." 

"I'm so sorry."

He let his words leave his lips in a low, trembling whisper as he tried to feel that hug as much as he could. 

"... I'm sorry I wasn't worth it-" 

"You were." 

You broke the hug and looked at him one last time with a light smile painting your lips as your eyes were starting to get filled with tears. 

"You're a whole mess, Chan." 

You lightly giggled as you wiped his tears with your thumb. He didn’t say anything back, so you decided to hold him in a last, warm hug.

Your figure getting more and more blurred to Chan's teary eyes as he finally let you go. 

"It's gonna be alright. Believe me." 

You caressed his cheeks one last time before you had to turn your back and walk away, the loud, robotic announcement voice mentioning your flight as you kept moving one step after the other. 

[goldenkookietae]

Pebbles and Paper balls

BTS one shot

Pairing: Boyfriend!Jimin x reader

Word count: 1,662 words

Warnings: Fluff, cute

Summary:  You’re the head of your college’s editing club and the magazine that is to go out takes up all of your time, including that you spend with your boyfriend, Jimin. To your surprise, he visits you in the night saying he has missed you.

Disclaimer: This story is an AU fanfiction that I have created using the names of the members of BTS. I do not claim any ownership over the members of BTS. The plot and the personalities of the characters are entirely my own.

Do not plagiarize my work and do not repost.

*

Moodboard

*I do not claim ownership over any of the pictures. They are credited to their original owners.

In the eerie silence of a cold winter night, Y/N was snuggled up in her favourite yellow blanket, which hid her Kookie onesie underneath. Her iPod fell onto the carpet right next to her bed, having   slipped from her grasp as she dozed off. The music still playing in her earphones never woke her, instead it lulled her into a deeper slumber.

This wasn’t the first time she had fallen asleep to his voice. And that was enough of a reason for her to have a playlist on her phone, which had just his voice, whether it be his songs, his sweet laughter or secretly recorded calls. It was a blessing for a very light sleeper.

Her dreams were all peaceful this night, no characters, no stories, no memories, but just colours. A hue of light pastel colours that made her calm even in her sleep. Her lips stretched into a teeny tiny smile, as she puffed out a relaxed breath.

In that moment, her brows furrowed at the light tapping noise that came every few seconds. For someone who had an obsession with organising stuff, it wasn’t a surprise to see that the irregularity in the taps was what bothered her the most. As she slipped out of the sleepy haze, the taps got louder, which were followed by slightly smaller taps.

After a few attempts to ignore the noise, a sharp sting on her arm jolted her out of her sleep.

“Oww!” Y/N muttered to herself as she rubbed her arm. Her eyes wandered to the clock set on her bedside table, the neon letters of which glowed with a bright 2:00 AM. As she still held her arm, she looked around as to what could’ve woken her up from such a relaxing nap, her eyes scrunched at all the crumpled pieces of paper lying on the floor and her books strewn across her bed.

She sighed, slightly disappointed at herself for falling asleep in the middle of studying when she had set up a schedule to finish for the day. She had been up late nights for quite a few weeks, what with the deadline for the magazine getting closer every second. And after that, the comfort that his voice offered, it was inevitable.

It had been so long since she had seen him. His very thought brought a million images of happiness to her mind and quite a few funny ones too.

“OWW! What is that?!” Y/N groaned, much more aware of her surroundings as she rubbed the small bump that was starting to form on her forehead. It didn’t take her long to find the small pebble lying next to her hand, and she was pretty sure this was exactly what hit her.

She scrutinised the pebble in her hand for a second, as though expecting an apology from it before she huffed­­. Pebbles never come flying in through an open window on the second floor to hit someone on the head. Not on their own, at least.

“Who the hell?” she growled, jumping off of her bed and making her way to the open window, brushing aside the mess on the floor. Just as she was about to place her hands on sill, another pebble, a bigger one this time, came soaring at her, which she dodged just in time.

“HEY!” she yelled, as she looked out the window, curses at the tip of her tongue, ready to fire away at just about anybody. Instead, her eyes met his. Crescents because of the wide smile on his lips, her favourite pair. And just like that, her anger was all forgotten.

Not even a minute had passed, and she was already at the door, fumbling with lock in excitement. As soon as she got it open, he was there, waiting, and she jumped.

“Jimin!”

He giggled as they both landed on the soft grass of the freshly mowed yard, his arms wrapping around her frame.

“You’re kinda heavy ya know?” He chuckled patting her thigh as Y/N rolled her eyes, landing a light punch on his chest. They laid there for a few minutes before they got up dusting themselves and looking at each other.

“That was dramatic.” Y/N chuckled as she slipped her hand into his, pulling him closer.

“Yes, it was. You must’ve really missed me. I have. I hardly see you these days.” Jimin pouted, squeezing her hand.

“Yeah sorry about that, I’ve so busy with-”

“The magazine.” Jimin finished, while Y/N chewed on her lip, suddenly feeling guilty about not giving Jimin the attention he deserved. Sure, she thought about him all day, spoke of him to everyone she met, practically fell asleep listening to his voice every night, and yet, she had not made an effort to call him up. And he was here, at two in the night, because he missed her.

“You’re thinking too much again. Stop thinking.” She blinked when Jimin tapped her forehead twice, and tried to smooth out her furrowed brows.

 Even before she could reply to that, he pulled her hand, dragging her outside the fence and onto the road.

“Jimin! What?! It’s almost two, where are you taking me?” Y/N whispered, her words coming out louder in the silence of the night, but she got no response, the only change was her being dragged a faster pace.

The convenience store was just a minutes’ walk away from her house, she knew that, but she saw no reason for them to be there so late in the night. Through the aisles and shelves they went, until Jimin found what he had been looking for.

“Ice cream.” They both said in unison, looking at each other after and giggling. It was their favourite thing to do after a long day at school, no matter the season, no matter the time. It was a race from there, as to who would pick the only cup of cookie dough ice cream. It wasn’t about the flavour, it was about who would claim the last standing cup of any flavour.

They settled down on a wooden bench outside, sharing flavours and not focusing on much more till they threw the cups in the bin.

“Also, babe, you know you could’ve just called me right? You didn’t have to throw pebbles through the window!” Y/N shook her head, turning to face Jimin.

“Okay look, my original plan wasn’t to throw pebbles okay? I had planned it all to be romantic but your sleepy ass had to ruin it.”

“Don’t blame me mister. What is so romantic about getting hit by pebbles seriously.”

“Will you shut up? In case you had not noticed, I threw paper balls first. And you were supposed to wake up, but you didn’t and I ran out of paper, so then I thought the pebbles would work.” Jimin shrugged.

“But you didn’t have to hit my arm ya know?” Y/N looked at him accusingly, holding out her arm for him to see.

“Shit, it hit your arm? I’m sorry, I was actually aiming for your head though.” Jimin replied very casually.

“You hit my head too.” Y/N grit her teeth.

“Ah! Bulls eye!” Jimin clapped his hands together, before getting smacked on the shoulder.

Jimin was very quick with his actions as he pulled her onto his lap and wound his arms around her bringing her closer.

“I’m sorry babe,” his mellow voice whispered, his lips at her ear, “Let me kiss it to make it all better, hm?” Jimin peppered her face with kisses, every so often coming back to the bump on her forehead, and a lingering kiss onto her lips. Y/N enjoyed the warmth, her mind getting fuzzy as his touch began to lull her into sleep. She snuggled into the crook of his neck and breathed in his scent letting herself draw comfort from him.

It was only the next morning that Y/N woke up with a satisfied hum, a pink paper ball clutched tight in her hands. Her eyes shifted to the floor, and indeed, paper balls littered the floor, the variety in the colours making the mess look chaotically pretty. She broke out into a huge smile as the fuzzy memory of a Jimin’s voice came back to her mind. He sang her to sleep. That she was sure of. She smoothed out the paper ball in her hand, laying it out on her bed carefully.

‘Good morning angel, did you sleep well? Of course you did. You fell asleep on me outside the store and drooled all over my shirt during the piggy back ride home. Sleepyhead! But that tells me how little of sleep you’ve been getting baby, please don’t stress yourself out like this. Make sure to eat a lot and sleep a lot okay? Don’t worry about the magazine, I know it will be perfecto. I’m cheering for you! Do call me, I miss you a lot. Even more now when all I keep seeing, is your bunny tail wiggling in that cute onesie. I love you so much cutie.

-Love, the most romantic boyfriend ever, Chim

P.S. I’ve written something in all the other paper balls too. I hope you’ll like them.

P.P.S. I have pictures of you drooling. And it’s my wallpaper now.’

Y/N squealed, holding the paper close to her chest, her cheeks dusting a bright red as everything struck her at once. The fact that she had drooled over him which he claimed to have pictures of, the fact that she went around the city in her bunny onesie, the ‘I love you’.

She reached for her phone and quickly dialed his number, a contented sigh escaping her lips as his sleepy morning voice spoke on the other side. It took him a few seconds before he was wide awake, his tone concerned as to why she had called him this early in the morning. She cut him off.

“I love you, Jimin.”

Masterlist - Main | Masterlist - Imagines | Navigation

[chocoluckchipz]

Dance with Me, Chaton - 25

Read it on A03, WattPad, FF.net

Written for @ladynoirjuly2019

< Previous

25. Hawkmoth’s Defeat

Adrien hadn’t expected what he saw. Compared to an average-looking building in a below-average neighborhood, Plagg’s place was a king’s habitat. A spacious penthouse, clearly created by combining a few of the apartments, tastefully renovated and decorated in the most modern of fashions with undertones of black and neon green all throughout. There was undoubtedly a pretty amount of money spent on this place, something Adrien would’ve never expected in this building, nor in this neighborhood, and especially not from Plagg.

“Make yourself at home,” Plagg said, plopping on a couch and reaching for the remote control. With music now playing, he stretched.

“This place looks incredible,” Adrien said in awe, trying to take everything in. “With Tikki’s names for it, I imagined something more… well—”

“Trashy?” Plagg snickered. “Kid, who do you take me for?”

“Sorry,” Adrien smiled sheepishly. “The place really does look amazing.”  

“Thanks,” Plagg shrugged. “I’ll let Tikki know you like her work.”

“Tikki did it? I thought she didn't like it.”

“She doesn't like the smell of Camembert, not my apartment. Renovations were her idea. She hired workers but designed everything herself. Tikki’s very much like Marinette. Only she creates spaces, not clothes.”

Marinette’s name mentioned, Adrien felt a tingle of sadness at his chest. He couldn’t rush, though. Plagg was right; he had to give her time and space. “You come here often?”

“A few times a month?” Plagg shrugged. “At least twice a week in the last month. I slept here when we had a late session and then an early morning the next day.”

“And then you also napped at home?” Adrien remembered. “How hard your life must be.”

“Horrendous,” Plagg smirked. “Tikki was not happy. Threatened to buy herself an apartment full of all things sweet and escape there at least once a month for a week.”

Adrien chuckled. The doorbell rang.

“Can you take that?” Plagg settled deeper into his seat. “I don’t have any cash on me?”

Adrien quirked an eyebrow. “You ordered food without having money on you?”

Plagg groaned, rolling his eyes, “There is a credit card in my wallet in the closet by the door if you’re so cheap. Where is my Camembert by the way? I asked you to bring some, didn’t I?”

“It’s in my bag,” Adrien replied. “And I’ll pay for the pizza. Don’t worry.”

Plagg yawned, closing his eyes. “Crazy day. I need a nap.”

Unusually talkative and open, Plagg was the one who did most of the talking during dinner with Adrien answering the occasional question. He learned quite a bit. Just as Marinette had told him, Plagg really had come from a wealthy family, but just like Adrien, he’d been neglected and abused. Only Plagg was lucky to have met Tikki in his early twenties at one of those boring corporate dinners. They clicked instantly; a whirlwind romance followed. Upon realizing how Plagg lived, it was Tikki who slapped some sense into him. With her encouragement, he got out, buying this apartment to hide from his family. Not hide from them per se because most of them had disowned him, but he didn’t wish to accidentally bump into any of them on the street, and not a single member of Plagg’s family, according to him at least, would’ve ever set foot in such a neighborhood. It worked. Plagg never saw them again, only getting the occasional letter from his mother. When he and Tikki got married, Plagg kept the apartment as a reminder of what he’d gone through and as a place to stay at when Tikki needed their house to herself.

“Alright, kid,” Plagg said, pushing his plate away. “What’s wrong with you?”

“What do you mean?” Adrien asked. “I’m fine.”

“You aren’t angry.”

Adrien fell quiet, almost shrinking on himself.

“You don’t seem to be too worried about what happened today.”

Adrien bowed his head low, his arms finding its way into his lap.

“You behave as if nothing has happened. What’s wrong with you, kid?”

“There is nothing I can do now,” Adrien murmured, his lips pressed together. “No point in raging.”

“So, you going to shut your feelings inside and pretend like everything’s fine?”

His head still hung low, Adrien shifted his eyes to the side. “That’s what I always did. Smile and bear it. It’ll get better later.”

“It might, it might not, but all those emotions cooped inside will eat at you, Adrien,” Plagg continued. “No matter how much you suppress them, they will haunt you and one day it’s all going to spill over, and I’m afraid to even think about what might happen. I’ve seen stuff I’d rather not. I’ve heard stuff that I’d hate to happen to you. You’ve got to let it out.”

“I’m fine,” Adrien said, his voice tense, his fists clenched. “I just need some time to calm down and then deal with everything on a cool head. It works. It always has.”

Plagg quirked an eyebrow, watching Adrien for a moment before getting up and disappearing somewhere into the apartment. He returned with a few items of clothing in his hands and put them in front of Adrien. “Let’s go, I’ll show you to your room. You need to shower and change. We have a ‘butt camp’ session in half an hour.”

Adrien’s eyes snapped to Plagg. “How—”

Plagg chuckled. “Tikki thought it was hilariously accurate.”

Adrien pressed his lips together and straightened. “You know what? I’m not even sorry. That name is accurate.”

“I completely agree.” Plagg grinned. “I might even patent it as the official name of my studio. What do you think? Plagg’s Butt Camp?”

“I think,” Adrien said, snatching clothes from the table. “That you’d better pay me royalties for the idea if you do. Now, show me my room, I want to sleep today.”

Plagg laughed and led Adrien down the hall, opening one of the doors. “You have twenty minutes to shower and change. Be a minute late, and I’ll double the time of your session.”

“Shut up, Plagg,” Adrien growled lowly, looking around the room. It was a regular bedroom. A large bed, a few night tables, a dresser, and a huge mirror. A few plants which, surprisingly, weren’t dead, but then Plagg mentioned he had a cleaning person look after the place. Must have been their doing.

Taking his jacket off, Adrien headed straight for the shower. He stripped out of his clothes and turned on as hot water as he could tolerate. His skin tingled under its touch, as he got in and let the water soak him. Who was Plagg to question the way Adrien dealt with things? This is what worked for him for years! Why should he switch anything now? Adrien wasn’t Plagg and what worked for him, mightn’t work for Adrien.

He reached for the shampoo. Rivers of water down his body, Adrien washed his hair, scrubbing as hard as he could. Closing his eyes, he lifted his head up. Weird, but somehow, he was looking forward to whatever Plagg would throw his way at the lesson. He wanted to kick some butt, and what was a better place to do that than at Plagg’s Butt Camp?

Half an hour later, the duo was back at the studio. The clothes Plagg gave Adrien fit him perfectly. A bit baggier style than he was used to, but it was nice to wear something that wasn’t as constricting as his suits and dress shirts. Adrien liked it.

Plagg commanded the first twenty minutes of his training, pushing Adrien harder than he’d ever done before. More moves. Faster. Plagg yelled at him louder. He demanded the impossible. Then he unexpectedly passed the reins to Adrien.

“Choose your music,” Plagg said. “Tell me how you feel. Let me see your heart and I don’t want to watch this ‘calm down’ crap. I want to see what is really going on inside you. Right now. At this very moment.”

Adrien didn’t hesitate. He was angry. At Plagg for pushing him way too hard. At himself for being weak and pathetic. At Father for being a jerk. For being a dick and an asshole. For treating him the way he did his whole life. At Tikki for hiding Marinette from him. And if he’d be honest, even at Marinette. A little. For believing he could betray her, for not giving him a chance to explain. He knew he couldn’t blame her. She was played masterfully, but still, he couldn’t help but feel bitter.

Adrien found a song and passed his cell to Plagg. Plagg connected it to his boombox and angry, despairing sounds of Watercolour by Pendulum filling the room.

Adrien closed his eyes and felt. Coursing through his veins, the sound stirred anger in his belly. Frustration, fear, and rage. His movements matched. Sharp and jerky as he let his body express everything he felt. Not the moves Plagg was drilling into him for weeks now. No, these were his own, full of pain and agony, full of years of unreleased hurt and anger. Adrien sliced the air with his arms, kicked it with his feet, slashed it with his whole might, jerking his body in tandem with the broken sounds of the song.

He didn’t care how he looked anymore. He was done with that. Silenced his whole life, Adrien had a lot of things to say, and if this dance was his speech, then he was screaming his heart out, and no one would shut him up now.

When the new song, just as angry and raw as the previous one, started, Plagg joined in. Adrien didn’t pay much attention to him; he was too busy releasing all the tension and anger he’d had been saving up for years. Together, they danced like maniacs for a few songs until they couldn’t stand on their feet any longer, dropping to the floor afterward.

“That was awesome.” Plagg grinned at Adrien, stretched on the floor beside him. “Haven’t had this good of a release in a long time.”

“That was awesome.” Adrien grinned back, barely able to catch his breath. “I feel like a brand new person right now.”

“Right? Told you.”

“You did.”

“So, what’s next?”

“Marinette,” Adrien said, his eyes focused on the ceiling. “I need to apologize to her.”

“Then I say we practice.” Plagg finger gunned him.

Adrien stood up and walked to where his cellphone was. Sounds of DJ Snake’s Let Me Love You filled the room.

Plagg let him dance this one alone. Calmer than before, mostly graceful, yet sometimes edgy moves, Adrien let the music and the words carry him. He was a naïve idiot. It led him here. She might not forgive him and be right about it, but he had to try. He had to apologize. He had to fix the mess he’d landed them in. Otherwise, how could he claim to love her?

As for his father, Adrien was done. This time he pushed too far. Adrien could tolerate a lot, but he wouldn’t allow his father to hurt Marinette on his account. Plagg was right. Adrien did have the power to stand his own ground. He could walk away with his head high. He could defend not only himself but also Marinette. He just didn’t want to before. Not now, though. Not anymore. Family or not, if Gabriel had stopped treating him as a son, why should Adrien continue being one? It was time for him to rise. Time for Chat Noir to finally grow up and for Hawkmoth to be defeated.

_______________________________________________________________________

Next >

[roger1na]

careful ch3 - john deacon x reader

summary: you are a ballet student at the royal ballet academy. To pay for your tuition, you work part-time at the celebrity gossip magazine, Seven. One fateful day you’re sent to interview a band on the rise, Queen, post-concert and befriend the sweetest man on the planet.

word count: 2.3k+

warnings: swearing, cigarettes/smoking

author's note: thank you for being patient! i'm back in my groove after a few desperately stressful weeks and i'm super excited about this chapter and the next few ones!

[ch1] [ch2] [ch3] [ch4] [ch5] [ch6] [ch7] [ch8]

chapter three

Falling in love was so terribly easy, you thought. You wanted to drift into love, be slowly caressed into feeling romantic things. With John, you’d been pushed out of an airplane and the ground was approaching fast but you weren’t scared. You almost wanted to be taken into the embrace of the earth. It’s where humans are meant to be on, isn’t it? Feet planted.

Loud thoughts and bursting emotions stampeded in your brain after dancing. Your face was glistening with sweat and your updo had come loose, stray hairs framing your elegant face. When you danced, all your worries left you. There was just the music and the choreographed steps and the ache in your muscles. Once Tchaikovsky’s last composed note stopped though, real life came tumbling and left you more breathless than dancing ever did.

Particularly the colour of post-it note neon green kept coming up. It was a whole new level of fear that had stricken you when you had noticed it stuck to your desk telephone.

call me sometime!

xxx-xxx-xxx

The note was scrawled in messy handwriting and whoever had written it had had shaky hands for the way the letters peaked oddly. But they had forgotten to sign their name and for a moment you were extremely confused.

”Nat!” You called out to the office secretary, a small but dynamite woman with cat-eye lens and no time for anybody’s bullshit. She looked up and clicked her tongue.

”Yes love?”

”Who’s this from?”

”Oh some bloke.” She went back to her typing, acrylic nails click-clacking on the keys.

”Wow, yeah, can you be more specific?” You rolled your eyes. ”What’d he look like?”

She squinted her huge eyes and looked up to the right corner of her eyes trying to remember. ”Long brown hair. Sort of a big nose, but not in a bad way. Looked like he hadn’t smiled since birth.” Your heartbeat sped up and you held the note close to your chest. ”Why? ’Ave you got a bloke?”

”No! Shut up. Maybe.”

She grinned and set aside her work and leaned on her hands to get a better look at you. She pumped her eyebrows up a few times. ”Tell me more.”

”Sorry, I’ve actually got work to get to thank you,” you turned on your heel, trying not to squeal or scream or show any sort reaction to the little square piece of paper that had saved your morning.

”Ha ha. Run from this discussion for now, Y/N.”

And so you did. You locked yourself in the bathroom before carefully taking out your diary and sticking the note there, then casually as ever you continued your day, not thinking about it. Or pretending not to think about it. It never really left your mind. You imagined what’d it be like to roll those numbers into a phone. To hear his voice slightly muffled, slightly static, on the other end. And then you told yourself not to think about it because there was work and dancing and living to be done.

That’s how you ended up in the dressing room, clutching your diary and thinking of all the sappy things you’d like to say to him and framing the note with little hearts and stars and general squiggles, not really thinking much of it.

“Are you really going to keep writing sloppy romantic shit about him in your diary and never talk to him again?” Rose startled you, peeking over your shoulder.

You slammed the notebook shut, embarrassed that she’d gotten a glance at your innermost thoughts. “Shut up,” you bopped her over the head with the book gently. “It’s not easy. What do I say?”

“Hi, I’m madly in love with you but I’m too proud to admit it?”

”Shut up!” You laughed. ”’M really not.”

”That mushy shit-” she gestured to your diary vaguely throwing her hands around it, ”-that’s madly in love.”

“No, it’s not, it’s barely a crush.” You quipped back and held your diary tightly to your chest.

“A-ha! You admit there’s feelings!” She jumped around victoriously. A scarlet flush was spreading on your cheeks. Rose paused her celebration when she saw your embarrassed face. “What’s wrong? Is this the first time you’ve had feelings since, what, 1969?” She was joking around but your eyes were panicked. Her mouth formed a little ‘o’ when she realised.

“What do I do?” There was a certain urgency to your voice. Rose took pity on you, lacing your hands in hers.

“You goof, it’s going to go just fine.”

“Will it?”

“If you give me a light, I’ll promise you,” she had let go of your hands and was now fumbling in her bag for her trusty pack of Marlboro Reds, same shade as her lipstick. When you had tossed her your lighter and she was inhaling nicotine, you started making your way out of the studio.

“Listen, call him. You’re a total dork, he sounds like a total dork, it’s a match made in heaven.”

“I don’t call people, except for you.”

“That’s because you have no social life,” Rose laughed. She was such a breeze, floating along in life, dabbling in this and that. Part of you wished you were like her, the other part was glad to be a small, pocket-sized persona that could easily fit in anywhere quietly, no fuss, no show. “I get it, huge deal, he’s a fucking rock star, but I mean, how bad can it get?”

“I suppose,” you trailed off. The two of you had reached the stairs that lead to the underground, where Rose took the tube back home.

“Be brave for me, okay?” She kissed your cheek. “Ta!”

“I hate you, for being so right,” you called out after her. She glanced back at you over her shoulder and winked.

“Love you too, sweetheart!” Then the tunnel swallowed her and you were left alone with your mess of thoughts.

You took deep breaths to calm yourself as you caught one of the famous bright red double deckers of London. Right, it’s just a phone call, you told yourself as you got off on your stop.

Memories of him standing at the steps to your apartment complex’s front door made your heart beat faster. What wouldn’t you give to see that again? How he perfectly fit into the scenery, though he was impossibly tall and almost funny-looking with his long hair and crooked smile.

Your door creaked as you pushed it open and took in your apartment. The dumpy old couch your brother had given you. The dusty old curtains your mother had sewn up. The bright red rotary phone on a stand next to the couch that you had saved up for, for months. You liked the way it reminded you to keep striving and soon you’d have an interior design to match it, not just sad hand-me downs.

You took your sweet time getting ready. You brewed a cup of tea in a banged up kettle whilst whistling a tune. You set in a vinyl and danced to the music whilst waiting for your cuppa to be done.

When you had a cup of Earl Grey’s steaming in your hands you took the needle off the vinyl and silence settled into your house. You sat down on the couch, cringing at the noise it made in the desolation of a poor neighbourhood at night, in London.

Slowly, but certainly, you rotated the number into the phone and picked it up and put it to your ear, anxiety twisting your insides.

The line was ringing. You bit your lip nervously and played with the telephone cord.

First ring.

What if Natalie was just messing with you? Were they all in on a collective prank and she’d described your lunch date to get a rise?

Second ring.

What if he intended it for another Y/N? And Nat had handed the post-it note to the wrong person? There was one other one, in another department, another building but still.

Third ring. The line clicked. “Hello?” His East-England accent sounded marvelous through the phone.

“Hi,” you choked out, voice gone out of nervousness. You cleared your throat before repeating. “Sorry, hi.”

“Hey,” he laughed nervously on the other end. “Sorry, who is this?”

“Oh right! It’s Y/N.”

“Y/N! I’m so glad you called!” His voice deepened just slightly as he realised he didn’t have to be on guard.

“And I have half the mind to ask you the same thing. You didn’t sign your note!” You scolded him playfully.

“Shit, I’m sorry! How’d you know then, to call me?”

“Took a chance. And asked our receptionist.”

“Clever girl,” he joked. Your smile was wide and though your heart was palpitating, you were beginning to calm down.

“I was actually really nervous to call you.” You started.

“But I’m the least intimidating person you could talk to.”

“Yeah but, you’re you. What’s a twenty-something rockstar doing talking to me?”

“You make me sound old. I’m twenty-two, twenty-three in a few weeks.”

You almost spat out your tea. You could’ve sworn he was older. In the end he was only two years older than you. “What?”

“Oh, come on, am I some grandpa to you?” He complained sourly.

You started giggling uncontrollably and you heard him sigh on the other end. Sometimes, you can hear it when people smile. You swore you could hear the right corner of his mouth twitch up and his eyes wrinkle as he listened to you laugh.

“Alright, alright, calm down.”

You sighed and suppressed a smile that was trying to spread on your face. If the nosy neighbours were to glance through their window they’d think you were mad. “So, actually, how are you?” You started.

“The same. Cheered up when you called.” There was clanging in the background and somebody laughed and another voice complained.

“Where are you? Do you have roommates?” You felt your cheeks burning.

“God no, I’m at the studio. We’re working on our next album.”

“You gave me the number to your studio and not your house?”

“They’re the same. I bought the telephone, only natural that it’s my number.”

“Right,” you laughed and rolled your eyes.

“John, who’re you talking to?” A high-pitched, scratchy voice interrupted. “Is she pretty?”

You heard the scuffle of somebody covering the receiver with their palm before you heard John’s faint voice. “How d’you know it’s a girl?”

“You’re grinning like an idiot. Is it that dancer? What’s her name?” Somebody tried sounding out different names very similar to yours whilst another person kept disagreeing and suggesting your actual name.

“She’s the one who interviewed us, remember? Y/N Y/L/N.” The more reasonable voice finished.

“John?” You whispered into the receiver.

“Right, sorry about that.” His voice returned sheepishly.

“No worries but, it’s like, what, 9pm?”

“Nine forty-six.”

“Right, it’s late, why are you still working?”

“They’re arguing over something. I want to make sure they agree on something good in the end.”

You shook your head. “You need your rest. Have you eaten today?”

“You don’t need to worry, Y/N.” There was a triumphant ha in the background when he said your name.

“But I want to. You worried for me too.”

“I suppose,” he paused and you could hear him tapping on his bass, which you assumed was sitting in his lap. It made a hollow, plastic sound. “But I’m fine. Thank you. I hope you’re fine too.”

“I am, thanks. We’re rehearsing Swan Lake.”

“I have no idea what that is, if I’m being honest,” he chuckled. “But I want to see you dance. When do I get to see you dance?”

You smiled softly, blood rushing to your cheeks. “Soon, I hope.”

There was a yell in the background as somebody rushed to John who tried to keep the phone out of their reach. “Fred, fuck off, no you’re not-”

There was a small, whispered row, before John was back on the other end. He sounded slightly grumpy and a bit breathless, as if he’d just been in a fight. “Do you want to teach us dancing?”

“What?”

“Freddie is dying to learn about ballet and he’s hellbent on you teaching us.”

You giggled and you heard John scoff slightly on the other end. He was an adorably witty and grumpy man. He had a way of always seeming like the world was out to get him, but that he was absolutely too determined to get his shit done to let it bother him.

“Sorry yeah, it’s a stupid idea,” he mumbled.

“No, no! I’d love to,” you replied fondly. “When’s the best time? I’m free every saturday. Usually.”

“Brilliant, darling,” you heard Freddie’s yell into the receiver and the sound of John smacking the back of his head. “Next saturday alright with you?”

“Mhm,” you nodded.

“Right then Freddie, back to singing,” John shooed him off. More cursing filled the background. ”You're really okay with this? We’re all a bunch of dunces. And we’ve got eight left feet.”

You laughed. ”You’re a dork, John Deacon. Of course I’ll come. And I’ll have fun too.”

”Brilliant.”

“What do your new songs sound like?”

“So far, pretty good. We’re about half-way through, we’ll push the album through for the winter.”

“Will I get a signed copy?”

“We’ll see,” he teased.

“You are a piece of work, John,” you rolled your eyes before listening to him chuckle on the other end. His laugh was slightly bark-y, but not in an uncomfortable way. It sounded full of joy, with a mischievous edge to it.

”I’m going to start heading off to bed,” you whispered, after a moment of silence.

”Alright, sleep well.”

”I hope you come to a good agreement.”

”We won’t, but thank you.”

”Goodnight, John.”

”Goodnight, Y/N.”

You put the phone back before screaming into your pillow. What had you gone and done? You lifted your face to stare at the clock hung on the wall, hearing it’s ticking go too slow as you heartbeat accelerated.

“Rose is going to freak out,” you muttered.

***

taglist: @fourmisfits @deakysgirl @im-happy-at-home @obsessedwithrogertaylor @itsametaphorbriansblog

[lgbtyrus]

TJ’s Playlist Chapter 13

Story Summary: When Cyrus finds a playlist on TJ’s desktop full of old love songs, he realizes that TJ has never been a scary basketball guy but rather a huge sap. TJ just wished Cyrus could realize that all of those songs remind him of a certain boy who likes chocolate chocolate chip muffins without telling him directly.

Ao3 Link | Prev Chapter | Chapter 1

Words: 4,191

They boys laid there, holding hands and listening to the songs TJ had put on C.C.C.M. Crazy Cool Cat Music Cyrus thought to himself. Most of the songs were love songs, and it took a lot out of him to constantly remind himself that that was a coincidence. There was no specific reason why TJ was showing him these songs.

“I owe you cake,” TJ suddenly told him after half an hour of being there. Cyrus lifted a brow before remembering that TJ said he’d bake him a cake with the frosting of his choice. TJ sat up, not letting go of Cyrus’ hand and said, “Come on, we’ll go make the cake and watch the movie downstairs.” Cyrus found himself sitting up, being pulled out the door and down the hallway by TJ.

In the kitchen, TJ refused to let Cyrus do any of the work. Cyrus sat down and watched from the table where TJ was mixing ingredients. “Let me help you,” Cyrus insisted.

“Nope,” TJ stuck his tongue out at Cyrus. “You’re the guest.”

“You’re very stubborn sometimes,” Cyrus frowned, making TJ smile.

“I’m not ashamed of that,” TJ shrugged. Cyrus rolled his eyes but couldn’t hold back his smile. “You can pick out the movie today.”

“Really?” Cyrus placed his hand on his cheek. “I’m usually not allowed to.”

“Why is that?” TJ asked as he poured ingredients into a pan.

“Because Andi and Buffy hate documentaries,” Cyrus bit his lip. He didn’t know why he felt so embarrassed when it came to TJ finding out he was a big dork. It written in neon letters on his forehead basically.

“Pick one,” TJ said, moving away from the table, “I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure? I’ve been wanting to watch this one on weird sea creatures that’s on Netflix.”

“Yeah, Cyrus,” TJ turned around to give him a quick smile, “I don’t mind. My parents make me watch documentaries on bands all the time. I know more about Queen than anyone our age should.” Cyrus smiled before he realized something.

“Do your parents know I’m here?” Cyrus asked him, moving his fingernail between his teeth.

“Nope,” TJ said, turning on the oven.

Cyrus let out a little gasp, “TJ.”

“What?” TJ smiled. “They won’t care. They like all my friends. My dad likes to pretend that he’s cool. He just gets really sad if you don’t understand his music references.”

“I feel unprepared to meet your parents,” Cyrus told him, making TJ laugh.

“You’re fine, Cyrus. They’re not going to go after your blood.”

“Well considering they’re vampires, that’s hard to believe,” Cyrus half-smiled, the anxiety starting to take a toll on him.

“Well vampires stay out late. We’ll probably be asleep by the time they come back.”

“Oh, we’re actually going to sleep?” Cyrus cocked his head to the side. “I thought sleepovers consisted of mandatory all-nighters.”

“Do you want to pull an all-nighter?” TJ raised an eyebrow, a little surprised with him.

“Nope,” Cyrus shook his head, a little relived. “I would die.”

“You wouldn’t die if you became a vampire,” TJ brought up his tongue and placed it on the tip of his canine teeth for Cyrus to see.

“I’m not interested in immortality, but thank you,” Cyrus said politely, making TJ laugh again. “I’m going to go figure out how your TV works now.”

“Okay,” TJ said as he moved around the utensils, “remote might be on the coffee table. It has a Netflix button. The cake is about to go in anyways.” Cyrus left the kitchen and found Macaroni on the arm of the couch, fast asleep. He smiled and went to pick up the remote, a family photo catching his eye. He had noticed very few photos the last time he was here, and the more he looked around, the more photos he saw. He picked up the photo next to the remote and saw a younger TJ, getting a piggyback ride from his dad who was holding Amber’s hand. Amber was wearing a hot pink dress while TJ and his dad had matching blacks shirts. Cyrus was almost positive the shirt his dad had on in the photo was from a band, but he couldn’t read the font. TJ really didn’t look like his dad as much as Amber. Cyrus noted that TJ didn’t look like his dad at all.

Cyrus put the photo down before sitting down next to Macaroni who let out a pleased purr. The smell of popcorn started coming from the kitchen and into the living room, as Cyrus searched for the documentary.

“Oh,” TJ frowned as he came in with a bowl of popcorn, “Macaroni is here.” Cyrus grabbed Macaroni and placed the cat on his lap, causing TJ to glare at the animal.

“Macaroni wants to learn about what’s at the bottom of the ocean,” Cyrus announced to TJ, only to tick him off a little more.

“Macaroni probably came from the bottom of the ocean,” TJ rolled his eyes before sitting down next to Cyrus. Macaroni hissed at TJ, causing TJ to scoot further away from Cyrus. “He’s hoarding you.”

“It’s not my fault I’m attractive,” Cyrus joked around. “Just kidding. Macaroni just hates you.” TJ smiled at him before sticking out his tongue at the cat. Macaroni let out another quiet hiss before Cyrus started playing the documentary.

Cyrus looked over at TJ the entire time, trying to make out if he was paying attention or not. He was more into it than Cyrus was, that’s for sure. Cyrus couldn’t really focus on the screen when he had TJ letting out small gasps of amazements every other minute. It was really cute to him, and all of the feelings he had for TJ would roll through his body. The rest of the night was going to be even more painful, he could feel it.

The documentary was over in less than an hour, and TJ was sitting there, popcorn halfway to his mouth. “Do you think this is all real?” TJ asked Cyrus, the popcorn falling back into the bowl.

“Duh,” Cyrus smiled. “That’s why the ocean is scary, and I don’t trust it.”

“I don’t think I trust the ocean anymore, either,” TJ laughed, looking down at the bowl of popcorn. “I forgot to share with you, sorry.”

“I have cat hair all over me. The last place I want it going is in my mouth.”

“I’m going to go check on the cake,” TJ said, putting the bowl on the table. “You can put on something else.”

“About the sea or corporations?”

“Nothing is going to stop me from eating fast food.”

“This one documentary is one of the main reasons why I only eat at diners now,” Cyrus wiggled his eyebrows at TJ who was contemplating.

“Fine,” TJ let out a dramatic sigh. “Show me what you got.” While TJ was in the kitchen, Cyrus was going through Netflix to find the documentary when the door behind him opened. Macaroni immediately jumped off Cyrus lap as Cyrus turned around.

“Honey,” a lady in a simple black dress said, looking at the nervous Cyrus, “that’s not our kid.”

“Pearl,” the man sighed, walking over to Cyrus, “I know I don’t have my glasses, but I can very clearly see that that’s one of our… nope,” the man smacked his lips on the ‘p’, “he’s not ours.” TJ walked out of the kitchen nonchalantly and smiled at his parents.

“Hey,” TJ said, sitting back down, “you guys are back early.”

“We just came back to change,” the man said, switching his view between TJ and Cyrus. He was squinting, and Cyrus came to the conclusion that he had really bad sight.

“Why?” TJ asked, reaching over for the bowl of popcorn. “Where are you guys going at this time?”

“There’s a local band playing in town, and I can’t go in there in heels,” Pearl said, already reaching down to take off her red shoes.

“I also forgot to put in contacts this morning,” the man waved his fingers all over his face. “I haven’t been able to see shit.”

“Language!” Pearl’s eyes widened. “There’s a guest!”

“Oh yeah,” TJ nodded his head at Cyrus, “this is Cyrus. Cyrus these are my parents.”

“We’re not vampires,” TJ’s dad immediately said, confusing Cyrus. “This is the friend that you tricked into thinking we’re vampires, right?” he looked over at TJ who seemed to be getting flustered all of the sudden.

“Uh,” TJ cleared his throat, “one of them.”

“Nope,” Pearl shook her head. “You only said one name, and it was Cyrus.” TJ was nervously running his fingers through his hair as Cyrus and his parents smiled at each other. “Nice to meet you, Cyrus.”

“Nice to meet you guys, too,” Cyrus told them.

“Hey, are you the one that also helps TJ with math?” his dad asked him. TJ was sinking down into the couch now, obviously regretting not getting his parents out of there as fast as he could.

“I’m mostly there for moral support,” Cyrus told him, “but if we’re not being too tight on facts, that would be me.”

His dad smiled and nodded, “Thank you for that.”

Before Cyrus could say anything, Pearl put a hand on her husband’s shoulder and said, “Let’s go get ready, Viktor. Show starts soon.” Viktor nodded and started heading up the stairs. Pearl stayed a little behind and looked over at TJ, “Did you bake?”

“Yeah,” TJ muttered, a little too miserably.

“It smells good,” she complimented him.

TJ sat up a little and smiled, “Thanks, ma.” Pearl quickly followed behind Viktor, heels in her hand.

“Your parents are really nice,” Cyrus smiled.

“Yeah,” TJ agreed with him. “They went to a marriage counselor on Tuesday. They’re going to start going once a week and see how it goes. It’s been really good so far. No fights.”

“Is Amber still going to therapy?”

“Yeah,” TJ nodded. “She never stopped.”

“Can I ask you something?” Cyrus looked over, not knowing how to put out the words.

“Always,” TJ sat all the way up, looking right at Cyrus.

“Why didn’t you decide to go to therapy?” Cyrus hoped he wasn’t asking a bad question. He was interested in a lot of aspects of TJ, and he wanted to know more and more of him.

“I don’t think I needed it as much as Amber, and also, I wouldn’t be able to open up to a stranger,” TJ bit his bottom lip, his eyes no longer meeting Cyrus’.

“You opened up to me when we first met.”

“You’ve never been like anyone else, though,” TJ scooted a little closer to Cyrus and grabbed his hand, making Cyrus’ face heat up. “I always felt like I could trust you, and I can. I just didn’t know if I could be a good friend to you.”

“You are, TJ,” Cyrus squeezed his hand.

“I’ve been an asshole.”

“Not really. That’s just you,” Cyrus said, making TJ look over at him.

“Want to go decorate the cake?” TJ smiled.

“Will you actually let me do something for once?” Cyrus teased him.

“Maybe,” TJ stuck out his tongue before standing up, once again leading Cyrus by the hand. TJ let go of Cyrus to go through the drawers. “My dad tends to eat things like frosting and honey, so if it’s gone, it’s gone,” TJ smiled.

“I didn’t eat whatever I’m being accused of eating,” Viktor walked up to the doorway. He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt instead of the fancy clothes he had on earlier. Cyrus could see his resemblance to Amber.

“A can of frosting,” TJ said without looking away from the shelf.

“I ate a whole jar of jam this morning and that’s about it,” Viktor smiled. Cyrus was cringing on the inside, not understanding how any human could process that through their bodies.

“You’re not my dad,” TJ shook his head, taking out the can of strawberry frosting. He showed it to Cyrus before closing the cabinets.

“I know we don’t look alike, but I’m pretty sure you’re my kid,” Viktor chuckled. “Your Nana designed you somehow to look like your mom’s side of the family.”

“Yeah,” TJ laughed, opening the can of frosting, “she hacked into my genetic code.”

“Exactly,” Viktor snapped his fingers. Pearl walked up the kitchen door, wearing the same thing as Viktor, colors and all. “Awe, we’re matching,” Viktor put his arm around her shoulder.

“I guess we are,” Pearl laughed, taking in their outfits. Pearl looked at the boys and smiled, asking, “Are you sleeping over, Cyrus?”

“That’s the plan,” Cyrus nodded at her. Viktor flashed him an awkward thumbs up that made TJ roll his eyes and Cyrus chuckl.

“Okay, we might be gone for work by the time you guys wake up. TJ you’re not going back to the kiddie’s gym tomorrow right?” Cyrus quickly turned to look at TJ who was biting his lip now.

“Uh, yeah,” TJ told her. He hadn’t told Cyrus that he was quitting the gym. It did make sense why he wasn’t working that day now that he thought about it.

“TJ,” she pursed her lips like a mother about to scold her child.

“I quit, ma,” TJ reassured her, “I promise.”

“Okay, just making sure,” she smiled at him. “See you boys later, okay? Don’t burn anything down.” She gave TJ an eyebrow raise before walking away, leaving Viktor’s arm in the air.

“Later, dudes,” Viktor waved at them before heading out the door behind Pearl. As soon as the front door shut, Cyrus looked over at TJ who was clearly trying to avoid his gaze.

“You quit?” Cyrus raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” TJ bit his lip, looking down at the frosting he was pouring into another bowl. “Yesterday.”

“Why?”

“My parents wanted me to. They didn’t see a reason for me to be working anymore now that dad has a job.”

“Did you want to quit?”

“Not really,” TJ shook his head, filling a baggie with frosting. “But basketball practice starts in two weeks after Buffy gets her team together. I can’t slack off on math right now, especially. It was for the best.”

“I see,” Cyrus frowned. “I liked the kids.”

“They liked you, too,” TJ bit his lip. “A lot.”

“I’m going to miss them.”

“Yeah,” TJ handed Cyrus a bag of frosting, “me, too.”

-

TJ woke up, barely able to open his eyes. The green coming from the TV was hurting his eyes, the sound of Shrek playing in the background filing in. He blinked a couple of times, realizing that the movie was almost over. He looked to his side and saw that Cyrus was under his arm, sleeping peacefully. Cyrus’s head was resting on him, his breathing even. He didn’t want to wake him up, and he wanted to go back to sleep, but his parents couldn’t see them like this.

“Hey, Cy,” TJ whispered, pressing his lips into Cyrus’ temple. He was tempted to kiss him, but held it back. He pulled away a little and whispered, “Cyrus. Let’s go get ready for bed.” Cyrus shifted a little, reaching up to rub his eyes.

“What time is it?” Cyrus said, making the mistake of looking up. TJ’s heart started hammering against his chest. He had Cyrus so close, their noses touching.

TJ gulped, “Late. We should,” TJ was trying his hardest to not lean in, “go.” Cyrus nodded ever so slightly, the tip of his nose pressing against TJ’s. Cyrus was the first to pull away, standing up to stretch. TJ looked down at his hands and took a deep breath before standing up himself. He was a little more awake now, feeling like he was about to go into cardiac arrest. On instinct, he checked his pocket for his phone, but he hadn’t used it since Cyrus texted him that he was on his way.

TJ stood up, following behind Cyrus who was already going up the stairs. They both went into TJ’s room, Cyrus going through his bag. “Where can I change and brush my teeth?” Cyrus asked him, not looking at him. TJ felt like something was off with Cyrus, and it was making him nervous.

“The door right across from here,” TJ pointed at the open door. Cyrus simply nodded and walked out, TJ watching him go with a frown on his face. Did he say something? Or was Cyrus as confused as he was?

Couches seemed to be cursed places for them.

TJ walked over to his bed where he found his phone. He had a couple of texts from his friends on a group chat he thought he muted and two messages from Amber.

Amber: [img]

Amber: Tell him you like him tonight, TJ! Listen to the kiddies from the gym. Kids aren’t liars.

TJ looked at the photo that Amber had sent. It was them sleeping on the couch. She must’ve sneaked down to eat and caught them like that. TJ placed the phone on his bedside drawer, not wanting to think about it too much. The idea of telling Cyrus he liked him made him nervous. They hadn’t even been made up for over 24 hours.

But he couldn’t deny that he hadn’t felt so many feelings for him at once.

When he announced to the kids at the gym that he was leaving, they all immediately asked him if that meant they wouldn’t see his boyfriend, Cyrus, anymore. TJ had never been so embarrassed as he told the little kids that that wasn’t his boyfriend.

“But you guys went on a date once,” a little boy named Elias said, his mouth in the shape of an o.

“Yeah, I thought you liked him, TJ,” one of the older girls named Leandra chimed in.

“Or is he your secret crush?” Cathy giggled, causing all the other kids to let out ooo’s and awww’s.

“No, no,” TJ shook his head furiously, “it’s not like that.”

“You should tell him,” Cathy shouted.

“Tell him what?” TJ raised a brow. His now exboss was now chuckling in the corner, taking in the scene.

“That you like him, duh!” Cathy shouted like it was the most obvious thing in the world. TJ stood there as all the kids agreed with her, looking at him with hopeful eyes.

“Maybe I will,” TJ shrugged, causing all of the kids to roar with cheers.

TJ was at the edge, and he didn’t know how much longer he could hold on for. He looked over at the air mattress, upset that he still had to set it up. He decided to do it after he brushed his teeth.

He sat at the end of his bed, wondering if Cyrus was fed up with him. He wanted to know what he was thinking. Did he like him, too? Did he want to kiss him, too? He wanted to ask him all the questions that had been burning inside of him, and it ached knowing that it came with the risk of losing him.  

TJ looked down at his sweaty palms, wondering if that night was even a good moment to tell him.

Cyrus walked in sluggishly, his shoulders drooping down. He sat down next to TJ, shoulder touching shoulder.

“Are you upset about something?” TJ asked him, sitting still.

“I think I am, but it’s something stupid. Don’t worry about it,” Cyrus muttered. “I just needed to rinse off my face with cold water.” Without thinking, TJ reached over and grabbed Cyrus’ hand, interlocking their fingers. “TJ,” Cyrus sighed. “We’re friends, right?”

“Duh,” TJ said, laying back on the bed, his legs hanging off.

Cyrus mimicked him before whispering an, “Okay.” TJ licked his lips, silence starting to fill the room.

“Friends don’t,” TJ sighed, looking up at the ceiling as he tried to find the right words, “they don’t really do this stuff, do they?” TJ raised their hands up in the air slightly before gently setting them back down in between them.

“Not really,” Cyrus replied quickly.

“We’re a little different, then,” TJ said before whispering, “just a little.”

“Just a little bit,” Cyrus’ voice was trailing off.

Then, TJ broke.

He couldn’t do it anymore.

Not wanting to hold himself back anymore, he pulled his hand away from Cyrus and started furiously rubbing his face, letting out a barely audible, “We have to talk about this, Cyrus.” As soon as those words came out, he knew there was no going back.

“Let’s talk then,” Cyrus said plainly, sitting up on the end of the bed. TJ moved his hands from his face, but he didn’t want to sit up. He couldn’t look Cyrus in the eye right now- not when he felt so vulnerable. “Why did you really not want to see me when I came the day of the party?”

“Honestly, Cyrus,” TJ sighed. “I didn’t want you to see what a mess my life was that day. That’s it. If we’re talking about what happened on the couch… I couldn’t think about that at the moment, okay? I promise that’s it.”

“What happened on the couch? Because I still don’t know what to tell myself.”

“I don’t know what to tell myself either, Cyrus.”

“TJ,” Cyrus groaned, “what is our conversation even about?”

“Things we’re both clearly too afraid to talk about,” TJ sighed, rubbing his eyes. It’d help if he didn’t feel like he was going pass out every other minute.

“You’re not going to lose me if you’re scared of that.”

“That’s exactly what I’m scared of.”

“Well,” Cyrus laid back down next to him, “I’m here to stay.” TJ turned his head and smiled at Cyrus who was looking at the ceiling.

“Cyrus,” TJ clenched his hands into fists, searching for the courage to say the words. “Look,” he took a deep breath, “I’m going to say this as quickly as possible to get this over with so we can go to sleep and pretend this never happened.” TJ relaxed his hands, neatly folding them on his stomach, “I like you. Like you, like you.  A lot.” TJ felt one weight being lifted off his shoulder as the weight of the world fell upon him. Cyrus didn’t say anything, each second going by slower than the last. “Please say something, Cyrus,” TJ pleaded, his eyes started to hurt.

“I like you, too, TJ,” Cyrus finally said, a little chuckle slipping out at the end. TJ’s eyes were wide open now. “I just didn’t think you’d like guys, too. You’re Mr. Heterosexual of Shadyside, honestly.”

TJ let out a snort, “That’s the worst thing anyone has called me. Being in basketball came with one curse.”

“How long have you known?”

“I’ve known for a long time. Only Amber and… I guess you, know.”

“The gays really do group together,” Cyrus joked, reaching over to grab TJ’s hand. TJ ended up pulling his hand towards his cheek, leaving it there. His lips were pressed slightly on Cyrus’ thumb.

“Is this real or another dream of you?” TJ mumbled as he started to process the entire situation. Was this really happened? Finally?

“Do you dream of me?” Cyrus asked, smiling through the question.

“Mostly daydream,” TJ found himself admitting. TJ turned his head to look at the brunet and smiled, “You’re really great, Cyrus. I hope you know that.”

There was a comfortable pause before Cyrus asked, “So what now? I don’t usually take initiatives.”

“I don’t know,” TJ laughed, “I didn’t ever think I’d get this far.”

“Well, really, the only option was for me to jump out your window and run home.”

“Would you do that?”

“Only if it wasn’t you.”

“So,” TJ smiled, “you like me?”

“Don’t make me repeat it, TJ,” Cyrus pressed his hand momentarily into TJ’s face.

“I feel like I didn’t appreciate it enough the first time,” TJ merrily laughed.

“You’re just messing with me now,” Cyrus rolled his eyes. “But,” he bit his lips, “I like you, so I’ll say it again. I like you a lot, TJ Kippen.”

“I like you, too, Cyrus Goodman,” TJ cheekily grinned. Not knowing what else to say, he asked him, “Can I take you out tomorrow?”

“On a date or in a fist fight?” Cyrus asked before quickly adding in a, “Sorry. I make jokes when my heart is beating so fast I can’t feel it.”

“Don’t worry,” TJ said, “I like it. I like you.”

“I know.”

At last my love has come along

My lonely days are over and life is like a song

At last the skies above are blue

My heart was wrapped up clover the night I looked at you

I found a dream that I could speak to

A dream that I can call my own

I found a thrill to press my cheek to

A thrill I've never known, oh yeah

You smiled, you smiled oh and then the spell was cast

And here we are in Heaven

For you are mine at last

 A/N:  Well. There's the confession lmaoooo. I've had this confession written out in my notebook since August 19, 2018. It's currently November 14, 2018. It's only partially the same tbh. They were originally going to be at the swings because this sleepover wasn't planned. This was the only way or else this story was going to get longer and longer than what I wanted. I have 2-3 more chapters left in me. Maybe 4?? But it won't be long before I reach the end :) Anyways, if you survived this long burn from the beginning or any point in time really, congratulations. I made it difficult for myself lmao.

Tysm for the love and support :’) <3 It makes my heart go !!!!!!

Tag List:  @the-greatt-perhaps@thedampjofangirl@evaloveschristmas@musicalsfuckmeup@tyrushgoodman @cxrus-kippen@aestheticfairytaleprincess @cheesystars@tyronius-jackson-kippen @lihyry@rbf-lesbian@idk-i-stan-things@tyrusmuffins @tyrus4eva @idk-dude-17 @blueberry-my-hero-macadamia @caprisunsandcookiedough

Sorry if I missed you! Let me know if you want to be removed or added :)

[sgnolivia]

weird flex— are you okay??

two days into maybe-olivia’s eat-pray-love-crush-enemy-skulls pillage of cleveland, she’s struck by a migraine so searing that she has enough presence of mind to google psnn hesd dyig strook e ? before she’s left twitching in a trash heap behind starbucks.

two days into maybe-olivia’s eat-pray-love-crush-enemy-skulls pillage of cleveland, she’s struck by a migraine so searing that she has enough presence of mind to google psnn hesd dyig strook e ? before she’s left twitching in a trash heap behind starbucks.

it’s still light out when her brain stops trying to design, manufacture, and detonate it’s own atomic bomb. maybe-olivia isn’t sure if it’s been three hours or three days. the double chocolate chip frappe she bought t-minus five to blackout (ha!) has solidified on her pants. she can taste seafoam under her tongue.

she stares up at the sky in muted exhaustion. 

god, it’s me, she thinks. i would like to invoke my right to choose. 

perhaps if the zygote tube had been pro-choice, none of this would be fucking happening. 

the lizard takes over all executive functioning at that point, forcibly ejecting her from the drivers seat. when she blinks down at her shirt it’s neon green and has a fun i love chicago! written across a black skyline. 

maybe-olivia wonders if she saw the blue bedroom and doesn’t remember it. hopefully the lizard wrote it in the unicorn book.

not that it matters. what’s another forgotten thing in the grand scheme of it all? it’s a fifty-fifty shot she’ll remember anything she’s written in the notebook, anyway. her memory is half a step above melted swiss cheese. 

from that point on, every decision is like russian roulette with a gun that’s fully loaded. maybe-olivia has no fucking idea what’s going to set her spinning into a migraine or send her flying off the realm of human existence or remind her, hey, she fucking loves macaroons. it’s a lot of calculated risks and maybe-olivia discovers that she’s very bad at math. 

it goes on like this for an indeterminable amount of time. 

she tries to balance her world-wide assassination tour with her brain’s need to self-destruct every seventy-three seconds. it is difficult. 

after the act of dying her hair a soft brown sends her tripping into a panic attack, shivering violently and puking all over the nice bathroom of the vacation home she’s squatting in, maybe-olivia decides this isn’t working. 

the unicorn notebook is full, so maybe-olivia unpacks the glittery purple one she bought to replace it. the pen that lights up was lost somewhere in bolivia so she has to settle for a fatter pen that holds four different wells of ink. she feels traitorous for liking it more than its predecessor. 

option 1:

die. 

honestly, this is the easiest and most cost-effective route. at this point she’s ninety-five percent sentient machine gun. there wouldn’t be much lost. blackout was set to be decommissioned after operation foxtrot anyway. maybe-olivia would just be finishing what was set into motion a long time ago. 

she switches the pen into the blue inkwell and sets up a t-chart.

pros:

no more migraines.

won’t wake up in romanian hostel.

stop randomly puking.

permanently get rid of lizard.

cons:

maybe-oliva sits back in the chair. this list is marginally harder. 

agency is exhausting and confusing. some days she’s completely post-verbal and other days she can only speak argentinian spanish, despite having no memories related to argentina. some days she physically can’t wake her body up for more than six minutes at a time. most days she throws up everything she tries to eat. 

maybe-olivia wishes she was strapped back into her holding cell in the unnamed facility, twelve floors below the earth. 

this transforms her body into a wet chihuahua. it takes four hours to pull her bones back inside her skin and another two just to get off the floor. 

jesus, she thinks, and adds keep bones in skin to the pros list. 

she ruminates on her death for a bit, losing time to daydreaming about the endless sleep that might await her. none of her training covered the afterlife so this is as much a guess as everything else in her life. maybe it’s an endless blank void. maybe it’s burning in a pit. maybe it’s a another shot. maybe-olivia hopes not. she doesn’t know if her spirit can handle another go-round of this. 

but, her brain lizard pipes up, then they would win!

maybe-olivia growls out loud and pointedly tells it to shut the fuck up even if she begrudgingly admits that it has a point. 

if she dies, then director howard lives. 

this alights something hot deep in her gut. it feels like she has to puke and run fourteen miles at the same time. there’s no way in hell marcus fucking howard gets to live over her. fuck that. fuck that. 

and really, doesn’t she deserve that? doesn’t she deserve the right to drag howard out of his villa safehouse, shove a piece of rubber in his mouth, break all his fingers, and ask what her real goddamn name is?

project sisyphyus has been trying to kill her— the real her— for eleven fucking years and they still haven’t gotten it done. she wins, they lose. they’ll have to try harder. 

she writes fuck that in the scrawling, bunched together lettering she’s beginning to associate with her own personal handwriting. it’s nice. it feels like she owns something.

fuck that.

if they want me dead, they better fucking find me.

option 2:

get it the fuck together

there are no cons to this. she doesn’t need a t-chart. 

getting it together proves to be a con all on it’s own. her brain is a glorified vegetable but it’s all she’s got. it’s not like she can swap it out for a new one. it needs serious repairs though, and short of hooking her scalp up to a car battery, maybe-olivia isn’t sure how to go about this. 

google is, though.

and google doesn’t care if she has to look something up four times an hour. it points her towards helpful websites. searching how do i get my memories back and following it with who the fuck am i six times in half as many hours points her to a self-help thread which leads her to a diagnosis forum. she has acute brain trauma, post-traumatic stress disorder, dissociative episodes, panic attacks, and sometimes seizures. also, maybe arthritis. she has to ask google what dissociation means. 

maybe-olivia is struck with the overwhelming knowledge that other people know what she’s going through. there are other people who fell head first out of a plane with no parachute and have been hurtling towards the ground for as long as they can remember. sure, they haven’t been tortured and brainwashed and denied the basic human rights that are allocated pretty much across the board but she doesn’t care. she feels connected to these people who live half outside of their skin, wondering the earth like zombies chewed up in the garbage disposal. 

they teach coping strategies. ways to fake normal existence so that it seems like they’re living in the same reality as everyone else. how to breathe when her lungs collapse. how to avoid physical contact in day-to-day situations. 

a lot of them gently suggest finding creative outlets for her feelings. she tries writing but after penning an expansive four page letter in cantonese only to suddenly forget how to read cantonese, she gives that up. 

she decides she isn’t really ready to sift through her emotions. her bodies fucked up instincts are enough without trying to decide if she’s depressed, furious, or anxious on top of it. 

google assures her that recovery happens in stages and at her own pace. if you aren’t ready today, try a little bit more tomorrow. 

her brain still jerks her around like it’s the worlds most aggressive dog owner and she’s the runt of a teacup poodle’s litter, but it works to her advantage. no one can track her if even she has no idea where she’s going next. the targets come in migraines, in hallucinations, in dissociative fits, but they come and maybe-olivia dutifully follows, even if she can’t remember doing it. it’s admittedly a reckless strategy but if there’s a part of her that isn’t a screaming disaster then she hasn’t recovered that part yet. 

she reviews her notebooks every few days, now. they look like they’ve been written by at least four people, one of them being a small child. there’s a variety of languages, handwriting styles, codes, and small illustrations. one page just says fuck licorice in increasingly bold font, fiercely underlined and surrounded by aggressive exclamation points. 

it doesn’t do much except reaffirm that she has the minimal amount of control required to be a human being, but that’s okay. 

a lot of her problems sort themselves out once a helpful blog post points out that she’s eating about a third of what’s required of adult women. this is mostly because she constantly throws up anything that tastes more flavorful than wheat bread but also because she’s never really had to feed herself before. hunger is just another loud, shrieking signal her body sends at her to inform her that something’s wrong, but it sends fifty of those a minute. how’s she supposed to know where the problem is?

a steady combination of pedialyte, muscle milk, and a bottle of gummy vitamins becomes the solution. she has to set alarms to remind herself to drink them and it isn’t ideal, but it keeps her caloric intake up, and solves the arthritis issue. 

it also makes it easier to actually keep the memories she recovers which is a huge win. 

that doesn’t mean things are smooth by anyone’s standards, including her own. random things still absolutely kneecap her— a dad yelling at his son, a lawn mower starting up outside the motel, her own abilities blinding her first thing in the morning. but every incapaciting moment gives a clue. 

a car backfires on the road and maybe-olivia darts behind a minivan, seeing both the tan metal under her hand and white sand beaches. 

239948S462569W

maybe-olivia has never infiltrated a fully-staffed enemy facility on her own before. that’s alright. it can be a learning experience for everyone. 

[hippychick006]

4.18 - Monster at the End of this book

This episode is what Supernatural used to do best, funny, angsty and heartbreaking all in a single episode.  And similar to Monster Movie, I’d have to paste the entire transcript for this episode to do it any justice.  I will gamely try  (and fail) to summarise as best I can, but it’s still a long post,  It’s really not my fault they used to pack so much good stuff into a single episode, instead of the filler crap we get now that I wouldn’t be remotely interested in recapping.  I might do an early season 14 one soon and see the difference.

I think this is also the first episode Supernatural goes meta, and it is fantastic, due in large part to Rob Benedict being a fantastic choice as Chuck and Jared and Jensen knocking it out of the park in all of their scenes together.  Interestingly, this one wasn’t written by Ben, but Julie Siege and looking at her other episodes, this is by far the best one. 

Scene with comic book guy was great.  Right from when he recognises the FBI aliases they use: De Young and Shaw - which I admit I had to look up who these were.  Styx, which doesn’t help me any, so currently listening to Styx while I watch the episode - through to their weird line of questions, he believes them to be LARPing.  

Best part of this scene: 

Comic Book Guy: You're asking questions like the building's haunted. Like those guys from the books. What are they called? Uh... "Supernatural." Two guys, use fake IDs with rock aliases, hunt down ghosts, demons, vampires. What are their names? Uh... Steve and Dirk? Uh, Sal and Dane?

Sam (hesitantly): Sam and Dean? Comic Book Guy: That's it!

I love how the show pokes fun at itself all through the episode.  We find out that the books  “didn’t sell a lot of copies...kind of had more of an underground cult following.” and they are being sold in the “bargain bin” section.  Oh show.

We get a montage of the book covers and the props department really had fun with this one.  Here’s Fabio!Sam and a jacked up Dean ... enjoy!   Source

The next scene is also great, Dean’s reading the books and has discovered he’s full frontal in Route 666.  Show pokes more fun at itself when Dean asks Sam how come they hadn’t heard of the books before.  Sam: “They’re pretty obscure.  I mean almost zero circulation.” Oh show.  They discover fandom, there’s not many of us, but we sure do complain a lot.  Oh Dean, I actually liked Season 4 for the most part, wait till later seasons!   Best part of this scene:

Dean: There are Sam girls and Dean girls and... what’s a slash fan?

Sam: As in...Sam slash Dean...Together

Dean: Like, together, together?

Sam: Yeah

Dean: They do know we’re brothers, right?

Sam: Doesn’t seem to matter.

Heh.

Next on to the publisher - who I think was also Karen in The Usual Suspects episode.  They tell her they are big fans and want to write an article on the books.  Best parts of this interaction is when she says that a positive article could mean they start publishing again and Dean responds:  No, no, no, no. God, no!   She gets suspicious - as she doesn’t want anyone making fun of “her boys” - so tests them on their knowledge of the books.  They get them all right obviously, but Sam struggles to remember his LSAT score.

On to Carver Edlund - who we find out is a pen name for Chuck Shurley.  We saw him at the start of the episode dreaming about Sam and Dean and he’s shown here, editing his most recent chapter, so it’s obvious he’s still writing.  This whole scene is genius.  You can’t even attempt to summarise it, but it does have this line, “Sam and Dean traded soulful looks.”  Also Chuck comes to the conclusion he’s a god.

We next see Sam and Dean in the laundrette (or laundromat if you are US).  Dean’s reading from the pages while Sam is loading the laundry and the pages match what they are doing.  Right down to Sam’s brooding and pensive shoulders and thinking Dean is a dick.

Sam and Dean go back to Chuck’s house and he tells him of his latest dream, which Dean in particular isn’t going to like.  Apparently Sam is going to unable to “deny his desire”, and “will succumb to Lilith as they sink into the throes of fiery demonic passion.”  Sam rightfully laughs at this

Sam: You’re kidding me, right?

Dean: You think this is funny?

Sam: You don’t?  I mean, come on, “Fiery demonic passion”?

Chuck (defensively): It’s just a first draft

This is a very funny scene, but heartbreaking as Dean doesn’t believe that Sam would never actually do this.  It makes me even sadder that in Season 14, Sam’s still begging Dean to believe in them. 

Sam: You can’t seriously believe...

Dean: Humour me

In the car, Sam sarcastically reads from the recent pages Chuck wrote, which includes the line, “The minivan accident wasn’t that bad, but Dean was still seeing stars.  He scratched absently at the pink flower Band-aids on his face.”  which Sam thinks would never happen, that Dean would “use duct tape and bar rags, before he’d put on a pink flower band-aid.”

Dean thinks Chuck might be wrong about the details, but not the end result (Sam sleeping with Lilith) so they are hightailing it out of town.  Except the bridge is down (apparently the only one in town which is a bit poor thinking on the town’s part) so they have to stay.

They go to a diner and decide to try to do the opposite of what has been written.  So where it says they get into a fight, they won’t fight, no research for Sam, no bacon cheeseburger for Dean, which leads to this:

Dean (to the waitress): Hi, uh, what's good? WAITRESS: Well, if you like burgers, Oprah's girlfriend said we have the best bacon cheeseburgers in the country. Sam laughs and looks at Dean in challenge.  Dean orders the veggie tofu burger.

Next follows couples therapy tactics as they try to avoid the fight that happens in Chuck’s draft (all sourced from wiki as usual):

SAM: This whole thing's ridiculous. DEAN:Lilith is ridiculous? SAM: The idea of me hooking up with her is. DEAN: Right. 'Cause something like that can never happen. SAM: (starts to scowl, then controls himself.) Dean, for the first time, we have warning that Lilith is close. DEAN: So? SAM: So... we've got the jump on her. If we know when she's coming, we know where she's – this is an opportunity. DEAN Are you – (trying very hard not to get angry) It frustrates me when you say such reckless things. SAM: Well, it frustrates me when you'd rather hide that fight.

I love that whole interaction.  They couldn’t look more like a couple if they tried.

They get their food and after the waitress leaves, Dean continues their “discussion”:  It's not hiding. It's being smart. It's picking your battles. This is a battle that we are not ready to fight. (He takes a huge bite of his burger and his eyes widen in surprise.)  Oh, my god. This is delicious. Tofu is amazing! WAITRESS: (approaching, flustered).  I am so sorry. I gave you the bacon cheeseburger by mistake. (she takes his plate away) SAM bitchfaces.

The next bit, they spend fruitlessly trying to do the opposite of what’s on the pages.  They pull into the skeevy Toreador Hotel (which Sam says looks like it rents rooms by the hour) to avoid staying at the Red Hotel.  Dean dumps Sam in the motel room while he takes Sam’s laptop so he can’t do research.  He leaves to go park up the car instead of driving it around (as per the pages).  As he drives away, the motel neon sign breaks, leaving only the letters Red remaining.

Dean parks up the impala and walks away, but turns around to see two kids trying to break into her.  He starts across to them and gets run over by a mini van.

Chuck arrives at the motel room, Sam’s called him over and I just want to say that in this scene, Rob is absolutely tiny against Jared!   I mean seriously, he’s like a leprechaun, and he shouldn’t look that small as he’s listed as 5′ 8″.  I’ve seen Jared in the flesh and yes he’s tall, but not how it shows here.   Anyway, Sam asks Chuck if he’s seen visions of Sam when he’s not with Dean.  

Chuck: Oh, you want to know if I know about the demon blood.  

Chuck does know, but he hasn’t told Dean or written it into the books, because he’s afraid it will make Sam look “unsympathetic”.  After the joking of the rest of the episode, this is a beautiful scene between Jared and Rob, where Sam reveals once again that he believes he’s got to stop the apocalypse because he doesn’t think Dean’s strong enough.  He wants to do it because Dean’s looked out for him his whole life, and he wants to be the one that helps Dean this time.  Chuck questions whether that’s really Sam’s motives and not that he feels strong and in control when he’s drinking the demon blood.  Sam says that isn’t true (but I think its Sam wanting to believe that isn’t true).

Chuck: I’m sorry Sam.  I know it’s a terrible burden, feeling that it all rests on your shoulders

Sam: Does it?  All rest on my shoulders?

Chuck: That seems to be where the story is headed.

Dean wakes up and sees stars (which turns out to be the huge earrings of the woman who ran him over). Seriously, those could rip your ear open.   He sees the impala’s back window has been broken (which was also written in the pages Sam was reading from earlier).  He sees his reflection in baby and the woman’s daughter has plastered his face with pink band aids while he was unconscious.  Umm, next time, maybe call an ambulance?

Dean slides behind the wheel of his beloved Impala and drives off, the plastic tarp on the rear window flapping like the wings of a crow. (Chuck’s words, not mine).

Back to Chuck who arrives home with a six pack of beer to find Dean waiting for him (which he knew was going to happen).  Dean attacks him to get him to explain how he’s doing what he’s doing, and... oh great, Castiel’s turned up, once again far too late, to “helpfully” explain that Chuck is to be protected as he is a “prophet of the Lord” who is writing the Winchester gospel.

Castiel says he’s a fan of Chuck’s work and picks up a copy of Scarecrow (and I just thank Chuck it wasn’t route 666 or we’d never hear the end of it).

Dean asks Chuck if he knew (about being a prophet).  Chuck says he might have dreamed about it and adds:  “ It was too preposterous. Not to mention arrogant. I mean, writing yourself into the story is one thing, but as a prophet? That's like M. Night-level douchiness.”

Another Dean and Cass scene and yet again, I really don’t see what the hellers are seeing at all.   Upshot is, Dean asks Castiel how they stop Lilith and Sam getting their jiggy on.  Castiel responds “What the prophet has written can’t be unwritten.  As he has seen it, so it shall come to pass.”  Well, thanks for that Cass, really helpful as always.

Dean leaves and returns to the hotel and sees the sign has now changed to the Red Motel.  And even though I don’t love what they say to each other in this next scene, I do absolutely love this scene. Give me all the angsty brothers. Jared and Jensen both do an outstanding job.  This show should get all the cookies.  Dean wants them to hightail out of town, even if they have to swim out.  As he’s starting to pack up, he realises the hex bags he placed earlier to hide Sam are not there. It turns out that Sam’s burnt them because he wants to confront Lilith. Best part of the scene:

SAM: You think I'll do it, don't you? You think I'll go dark side. DEAN: Yes! Okay? Yes. The way you've been acting lately? The things you've been doing?  (Sam looks worried at this news, thinking Dean might know about the blood drinking) and Dean continues, Oh, I know. How you ripped Alastair apart like it was nothing, like you were swatting a fly. Cas told me, okay? (so Dean and Cass have been having secret conversations about Sam).

SAM: What else did he tell you? DEAN: Nothing I don't already know. That you've been using your psychic crap, and you've been getting stronger. We just don't know why, and we don't know how.

Sam: It’s not what you think

Dean: Then what is it, Sam.  ‘Cause I’m at a total loss.

Sam doesn’t answer, Dean finishes packing and asks Sam if he’s coming or not.  Sam says no.  Dean closes his eyes and throws his bag down on the chair and angrily leaves the room.

Dean goes to get a soda, and prays to the angels for help as he is completely out of options.  Castiel turns up, and in the same way I liked Jared and Rob scene, I like Jensen and Misha scene.  However, in the same way I see nothing shippy between Sam and Chuck, there is also nothing shippy between Dean and Castiel.  Dean is 100% only concerned about his brother and his interest in Castiel is in how he can help him save Sam.  Otherwise, he seems permanently angry at the angels, which includes Castiel.  I think Dean just prefers to deal with him out of all the angels because Castiel is the least douchy and for the most part, answers his questions.  Dean begs Castiel to drag Sam out of the town.  Castiel apologises and says he cannot interfere in a prophesy.  

Dean: Screw you.  You and your mission.  Your God.  If you don’t help me now, then when the time comes and you need me...don’t bother knocking.

He goes to leave and Castiel calls him back, and this is one of the few times that I actually like Castiel and that he does actually help, though in Castiel’s usual cryptic way.  Misha does a good job in this scene and just posting the dialogue doesn’t do justice to his performance here as Castiel tries to give a hint to Dean:

CASTIEL: You must understand why I can't intercede. Prophets are very special. They're protected. DEAN (angrily): I get that. CASTIEL: If anything threatens a prophet, anything at all, an archangel will appear to destroy that threat. Archangels are fierce. They're absolute. They're heaven's most terrifying weapon. DEAN: And these archangels, they're tied to prophets? CASTIEL: Yes. DEAN: So if a prophet was in the same room as a demon – CASTIEL: Then the most fearsome wrath of heaven would rain down on that demon. Just so you understand (looks up towards the skies)... why I can't help.

Oh Cass, you are all right.  [Until you let Sam out of the panic room in a later episode and then I’m back to not liking you]

Dean goes to get Chuck:

Chuck: What are you doing here?  I didn’t write this!  

Unsurprisingly, Chuck is reluctant to go with Dean.  Dean gives him a pep talk:

DEAN: This isn't a story anymore, man. This is real! And you're in it! Now, I need you to get off your ass and fight. Come on, Chuck.

Dramatic, inspiring music plays as Chuck starts walking forward... then turns around and...

CHUCK: No friggin' way.

Dean goes with plan B:

DEAN: Okay, well, then, how about this – I've got a gun in my pocket, and if you don't come with me, I'll blow your brains out. CHUCK (smugly): I thought you said I was protected by an archangel. DEAN (considers that): Well, interesting exercise. Let's see who the quicker draw is.

Back to Sam.  The motel room door knocks and he opens it to... nothing there.  He closes the door and turns around and Lilith is inside the room.  Neat trick.  Lilith helpfully rolls her eyes to white, just so we know it’s her.  She asks where the demon killing knife is and Sam tells her it’s on the nightstand.  She goes to get it and stops at a rug, pulling it back she sees Sam’s drawn a trap.  She breaks it easily then tells Sam he needs to try a lot harder than that.

Sam tries to exorcise her, but does nothing more than make her hair blow prettily in the wind he’s creating.  It appears that Sam and Lilith are now evenly matched with their powers, she can’t TK him, he can’t TK her.

Sam asks what she wants, and she offers to stand down and stop breaking the seals, because she’s found out she doesn’t survive (I think she’s only just found out she’s the last seal, which obviously Sam - and we - still doesn’t know).  All she wants in return is Sam and Dean dead.  Sam says he doesn’t believe her, but Lilith says if they make a deal, she has to follow through and Sam knows that. She accuses him of being like her.

Sam: You think I’m like you?  I’m nothing like you!

Sam agrees to the deal, and Lilith says it’ll take a lot more than just a kiss. She pats the bed and Sam joins her, looking as if he’s going to agree, but he grabs the knife at the last second.  Lilith is better at fighting on beds than Sam is (heh) and she easily overpowers him.  

Dean and Chuck burst into the room.  Lilith gets off the bed to confront them and the room starts shaking.  Dean says an archangel is coming and if she doesn’t get out, she’s dead.  Lilith glares at Sam and smokes out. 

Dean and Sam have a broment in the car as they drive away.  Sam still wants Lilith dead.

Last scene is Chuck.  We don’t see his dream this time, but he wakes up and Zachariah is there.  Chuck has now seen how everything ends and wants to warn Sam and Dean, but Zachariah says he’ll stop him.

Me at the time: What did Chuck dream?!

Up next, Supernatural jumps the shark.

[unholyhelbig]

were!chloe prompt - beca has been avoiding chloe ever since the dog attack. when Chloe decides to confront beca, she finds beca researching more about wolves.

[A/N: Woof (No pun intended) This is adding so much plot to something that was supposed to be pure fluff. But I don’t hate it]

CHECK OUT MORE WERE!CHLOE STORIES HERE 

Library’s always carried a certain and distinct scent, much like a hospital, it was near impossible not to identify the location if a velvet blindfold was stripping you of one of your senses. For Chloe Beale, it signified comfort.

The musty edge of leather wicked covers and adhesive was enough to quell a warm sensation against the edge of her stomach- she would always let her shoulders drop, and her guard pull back from her rough exterior for more than a few moments. It reminded her of childhood- of simpler days filled with naive curiosity and a gusto that she craved even today.

Barden’s library was broad; rows upon rows of different literature was arranged like a maze. Each book labeled with a white strip of laminated paper. A system that the redhead could barely begin to explain organized the books. There were a few study rooms set up on the side for people willing to block out an hour or two. There were dark leather couches in different nooks, even a few computer stations set up for people wanting to read up without the highlighters and flashcards.

A burlap backpack was strung over the girl’s shoulder as she adjusted it uncomfortably against her jacketed arm- textbooks weighing her down quite a bit as she started to silently cut through a few rows. She had a signature table in the far-left corner, allowing her to isolate herself and her thoughts from the rest of the world.

However, her movements halted the second she caught another scent. It was sweet, almost alluring. It was a huge jump from the aged atmosphere that surrounded her every time she entered the library. One of those leather couches was about waist level to her at this point, Chloe shifting her stare to the mass that was strung out against the cushions.

Beca was passed out, her little body hanging half off the couch as her right arm slung over her eyes, left clenching the spine of a hard-covered red book, the pages yellowed with wear as it rose up and down with her slow-moving chest. There were a few other books stacked on the small coffee table next to her, papers strung out over the surface area of the wood, a few different things highlighted.

Chloe drew in a careful breath, biting the inside of her lip as she watched the young girl sleep for a few more seconds. Beca had been pulling away from her ever since she got discharged from the hospital, a dog attack certainly doing that to a person. Even with the forced affection, and squinty way Beca stared at the gold specks in Chloe’s eyes, she knew something was off.

Beca Mitchell was never caught dead in a library. Learning.

The older woman set her bag down behind the couch, the two of them in a little triangle of books and shelves. It was the perfect place to get a nap in before class or isolate yourself. In this case, it shielded the rest of the library from getting a good look at Chloe’s expert snooping skills.

She squatted down by the side of the table, eyes scanning the stack of literature first. Some of the titles were in Latin, an effective translation dictionary propped open a few inches away, held open by a neon orange highlighter. There were a few she could read clearly;

Monsters of Givaudan, Lycanthropy: the occult truth, Way of the Wolf.

An icy knot was beginning to form in the pits of Chloe’s stomach, the girl shifting to her knees as she silently shoved the books to the side, not having much interest in seeing what lie behind the covers. She was worried about this, about Beca and her sharp paranoia.

Chloe reached forward for the paper closest to her, fingers crinkling the text as she brought it into focus. Bullet points, a lot of bullet points with so much research. If she hadn’t been so shell-shocked she would have been impressed by Beca’s detective skills.

Her breath hitched as she turned the paper around, afraid that in her frantic silence she had done more damage than observation to the parchment. But it was already wrinkled, already ink changed and splayed. Black lettering clouded the back of the page- stressed, evidence scrawled out.

There were drawings of moon cycles, and written symbols that even Chloe didn’t’ recognize, knowing that her attempt to understand the ancient texts when she was little was almost entirely lost on her. But Beca, Beca seemed to comprehend completely. Chloe’s name scribbled in the center of it all.

“You and Aubrey,” Beca grumbled from the couch, Chloe not realizing exactly how labored her breathing had become. For someone with heightened senses, she had no idea that Beca was sitting up now, lazily at that.

The book was strung to the side, strands of hair falling into dull blue eyes. Eyes that were sad, and tired, and most importantly focused entirely on the redhead in front of her. She looked grey, sick. She hadn’t been eating much since the attack, avoiding both girls all together.

Chloe was sat back on her heel at this point, one knee raised up to her chest while the paper hung in her hand, strung over that very knee. She didn’t know what to say, how to approach the situation.

“You were so focused on convincing me that wolves couldn’t be in Georgia.” She croaked out, not breaking stark eye contact. “So engrossed in making sure that I thought I was losing my mind that you didn’t’ think for a second that that’s the one thing I’m always sure of.” She paced herself. “My sanity.”

“Beca,” Was all Chloe whispered out, careful and precise. She wanted to use every ounce of her Alpha nature, to make Beca back down and forget about the subject. But Beca was human, and in this instance, she held all the cards.

“I was so sure that I saw a wolf that day.” She whispered a slight glaze to her eyes. She looked so broken, Chloe parting her lips. “But it was you, wasn’t it?”

Chloe swallowed down the frigid nature that was building in her throat. The look of desperation in her eyes mirrored exactly what she thought all along. The brunette was nothing short of a tactical genius. She was so sure of herself, it didn’t’ matter what Chloe said at this point.

She carefully pulled herself up to the edge of the coffee table, mindful not to shift any of the items that were strewn across it. Beca was patient, Chloe leaning forward so she was eye level with the girl, elbows resting on her knees.

“I uh,” She gulped, trying to keep her voice from cracking violently, eyes moving slowly up to Beca’s. “I suppose it would have been easier to tell you the truth, then.”

It wasn’t a question, more of a statement. Beca’s breath caught in her throat. Speculation, pure speculation that she knew was right deep down. But hearing the beginning of a confession from Chloe was enough to get her to shift uncomfortably.

“I wasn’t born like this.” Chloe’s tone folded under the pressure, quivering. “It was something that happened to me when I was sixteen.” She furrowed her brow, trying to drown out the memories. “No one knows about this except for Aubrey, Beca.”

The brunette nodded her head slowly as if understanding. As if trying to comprehend something she had been obsessively reading about even when her mind began to go fuzzy and her stomach churned.

“Your parents-“

“Are a hell of a lot more oblivious than you.” Chloe clenched her jaw, trying to keep the acid from raising in her stomach. “I understand if you can’t trust me, anymore, Beca." 

She got silence in return, the brunette running her fingers over the broken hem of her shirt, not lifting her gaze. 

"But I need you to promise me you’ll keep this between us.” Chloe practically begged, “No one can know about this." 

With a heavy sigh, the brunette sunk into the leather back of the sofa. She lifted her stare to meet those eyes, those ocean eyes with gold specks that she swore shined under the fluorescents. 

"Chloe, how can you ask me that?"         

[codedsarcasm-archived]

H  O  T  E  L    /    C  A  L  I  F  O  R  N  I  A 

for @bowtiies !  written while listening to this on repeat, basically, so if you feel the need for some mood music while you’re reading, that’s my suggestion.  

     THE RENTAL CAR’S WINDOWS ARE DOWN,  chilled night air sweeping in from her desert surroundings to kiss her cheeks and toss her hair while she drives just a little bit too fast down a road that’s just a little bit too empty. sunglasses are no longer needed and lie abandoned on the passenger seat. for all the brutal intensity of the american southwest during the day, it loses its bite as evening melts into twilight, into night. she had to pull over an hour ago to put on a jacket but she refuses to roll up the windows; there’s just something about the rush of the wind and the pleasant hum of desert wildlife that she doesn’t want to miss. it’s unusual for her, this wanderlust --- but she’s glad she’s escaped london, the city has been more and more suffocating recently, and she thinks this is exactly what she needs to feel free again.

     nessa spent the majority of the day asleep at a hotel with the express intention of driving all through the night. she’s had enough of the merciless sun and the scarlet wastelands --- she wants the silvery dunes and the mysterious lights floating overhead. the tank’s filled with gas and she’s not due to reach civilization again until morning. for her, that’s perfect. fingers coated in chipped black nail polish reach out to switch on the car’s radio; her phone, hooked up to the aux and resting in her lap, lights up briefly as her music shuffles itself. she keeps the volume only just loud enough to hear over the wind, sweet child o’ mine drifting from her open windows and out into the desert air.

     it’s unexpected, the car beginning to falter. she’s had no trouble with it the entire four days she’s already spent with it; and she’s no stranger to machines. she understands how they function and she understands how they stop functioning. as soon as the engine starts to sputter and the headlights start to flicker, she carefully guides the vehicle to the side of the road, pulling off and over the lip of the asphalt to crunch along the sand and rock for a couple of seconds before stopping completely. she turns the keys to the off position, waits a moment, then tries to start the engine again. more sputtering. fuck. 

     she takes off her seatbelt and leans down to pop the hood of the car. the door’s opened but before she steps out, she leans into the backseat, hand closing around a baseball bat, which she brings with her. just in case. the woman uses her phone’s flashlight to provide visibility as she pushes open the hood and inspects the engine. there’s no smoke, it’s not badly overheated, it doesn’t smell of anything in particular. it’s like it just gave up. the bat’s leaned against the front of the car while she leans in a bit closer, brow furrowed. but no amount of scowling seems to be able to fix the unidentified problem. looks like she’s stuck for the time being. 

     “you’re in deep shit,” she informs the car’s engine before stepping back to shut the hood. as soon as it comes down, her eyes fall on a building located just across the road. she didn’t see it before. she’s pretty sure there’s not actually supposed to be anything there. gaze lifts from the structure’s silhouette to the neon sign right out front of it. desert flower motel --- words scrawled in red, sign trimmed in pale blue. 

     well, it’s better than sleeping in this stupid rental car.

     nessa picks up the baseball bat and walks around to the passenger seat to retrieve her backpack, slinging it over her shoulder. she locks the car door and starts across the pavement towards the motel that she’s still not convinced didn’t spontaneously generate out of the sands while she was busy glaring at an inanimate object. there are lights on but the front door’s locked when she tries the handle. she frowns and turns back over her shoulder; there’s an addition to the sign, one she didn’t see previously either, just a little extra portion hanging from the bottom proclaiming VACANCY in red letters. vacancy, my ass. as she turns back round, fist curled and knocking on the door, her eyes are drawn to a tarp - covered object nearby that... she’s pretty sure is making some really weird noises. 

     her focus is shattered by the door’s lock turning and the door itself swinging open to reveal a frazzled looking elderly woman, peering at the traveler from behind thickly framed glasses. she takes one look at the car parked across the street and the bag hanging from nessa’s form and clasps her hands together. “you need a place to stay!” she doesn’t let nessa answer, ushering her inside instead. the girl’s grip on the bat tightens as she steps inside. the stranger might be harmless --- it’s a fucking motel, after all --- but she’s never been particularly trusting and everything about this seems, to her, like one of those bizarre and unexplained redd.it stories that turns into an urban legend. and she is not interested in literally becoming a creepyp.asta. she just wants to read them in the dark at four am and refuse to sleep for three days after. huge difference.

     “it’s very late,��� croaks the old woman as she shuffles to a reception desk and rummages in a drawer for something that turns out to be a room key marked with the numbers 125. “we can settle your bill in the morning.” nessa thinks she’s probably supposed to be grateful for that but she can’t bring herself to be anything but suspicious. the hairs on the back of her neck are standing on end and her stomach is twisting in knots. everything seems normal on the surface but every instinct she has is telling her to stay on her toes, and she’s just not sure if they’re right or if they’re paranoid. she follows the lady down a hallway, passing several identical doors, only told apart by the number plates screwed slightly off center on each of them. for a moment, she thinks she can hear whispering, right in her ear; but as soon as she thinks about it, it’s gone and it doesn’t return. she shudders.

     “my name is meryl, if you need anything. just call me at the front desk.” the key is swiped and door number 125 swings open. “enjoy your visit, my dear.” nessa accepts the key card and steps into the room, shutting the door behind her with her foot as softly as possible. bat is adjusted in her hand again as she flips the lights on. the room’s normal. a small closet, empty; a small bathroom, empty; a table and two chairs; a nightstand wedged between two made beds with the sheets patterned like an old bowling alley’s carpet; and a chunky air conditioning unit attached to a window, curtains drawn to obscure the view. her backpack is deposited on one of the chairs, her bat tossed onto one of the beds, and she parts the curtains: it’s the desert she’s been driving through, pale and ghostly under the moon’s glow. 

     she shuts the curtains just a moment too soon; had she waited just a heartbeat longer, she might have seen the lone figure approaching from the horizon.

     sleep comes quicker than nessa thought it would, sinking into a not entirely comfortable mattress, bundled in not entirely soft blankets. she doesn’t bother changing --- she just climbs into bed in that dusty jacket and her ripped jeans, shoes abandoned on the floor. late morning sunlight wakes her up, pouring in through open curtains. she rolls to face the window, blinking until her vision becomes focused, trying to remember if she shut them the night before. she thinks she did but her mind can’t settle on an answer. her mouth twitches into a momentary frown before she dismisses it; it doesn’t seem all that important. 

     she gets out of bed, slipping her shoes back on and retrieving both her bag and her bat. a hand dips into her bag’s pocket to retrieve her phone. no signal. well, she is in the middle of a desert. she can troubleshoot that once she’s troubleshot the car. her first priority is to check o --- well, maybe she can take a look around the hotel before she actually checks out. according to her phone, it’s about nine in the morning, she’s got all day to get back on the road. there’s absolutely no harm in spending just a little more time here. when she pads out to the lobby, she nods to meryl, who waves at her, before she follows the sign on the wall out to the pool. 

     it’s already hot when she steps outside, the sun beating down from overhead so different from the island country she’s used to. nessa regrets leaving her sunglasses behind in her car but not quite enough to actually go get them. instead, she scans the pool deck. there’s several people already out here, some of them milling about, some of of them lounging, none of them swimming just yet. it leaves the water’s surface still like a mirror; the desert sky reflected on the pool making some strange contradiction. someone brushes past her shoulder --- a tall, lanky man dressed a bit too well for a desert vacation ; is he wearing a bowtie? --- but before her head can turn to follow him entirely, she’s made eye contact with a different man, standing by the pool with a drink in hand and an easy smile on his face. he’s tall, dark, and definitely handsome; dressed casual and light. he’s on vacation, she thinks.

     when she talks to him, he introduces himself as crux. it’s a strange name but he explains to her that his parents had a fondness for the cosmos, and named him after a constellation ( he goes so far as to suggest he show her which constellation that night and it’s only halfway through the rest of the conversation that she realizes she’s agreed to stay another night ). the linger in the shade of a palm tree and talk for hours, until the sun sinks below the horizon and the landscape turns blue again. as promised, the crux constellation is pointed out to her as it rises into the sky, and then she’s carrying herself and her things back to room 125 to sleep, not even bothering to shut the curtains, letting the desert watch over her while she sleeps.

     she should leave in the morning. she knows she should. she’s not supposed to stay in america forever, she’s got to go home eventually. she tells herself that for the next couple of days but she also doesn’t make a move to actually leave. because she will go eventually, but she doesn’t have to go now. that’s the nice thing about being relatively unattached --- nobody’s expecting her back anytime soon, she can be here for a while longer if she wants to, and that’s the kind of freedom she’s been chasing. so she remains. she spends the days talking to crux about anything and everything, but especially what she’s running from. the crushing weight of everything she’s left behind in london; the things she’s trying to forget about for a while. but the more she talks about them, the more she worries about them, until finally, and she’s startled to realize she doesn’t know how many days it’s taken, she decides it’s time.

     “i came to say goodbye,” is what she tells crux when she greets him that morning, accepting a kiss on either cheek. his brow furrows.

     “but you can’t leave.” nessa opens her mouth to respond but she pauses, baffled. it’s not a protest --- it’s too firm, like it’s a statement of fact. as if he senses the confusion on her face, the man gestures around them. “the motel, it’s a sanctuary, nessa. for people like us ----- for people like y o u. you’re supposed to come here, you’re not supposed to leave.” his words drip from his lips like honey, there’s something enticing about it, and she wants to give in but it’s troubling too. the inability to leave. because that’s what she senses it is, deep down.

     “i can’t stay here forever, crux.” head shakes. “i have -- i’ve really enjoyed staying here, i have, and it’s been nice, getting away. forgetting the world for a little while. pretending that i don’t have to worry about -- everything.” her words seem to be catching the attention of an overdressed gentleman in a bowtie; she hasn’t quite noticed him but he’s noticing her. “but uh, my life is sorta just one big... heap of worrying, but like if you could light worrying on fire. that’s -- that’s my life and i gotta get back to it.”

     “don’t you want to stay here?” the man’s hand moves to cup her cheek. his eyes are fixed on her; hers, on him. “come on, nessa. you’re not above running from your problems.” and she’s not. she knows she’s not. that’s all she ever does is run from her problems; running, that’s something she does very well. 

     “this isn’t running,” she answers him finally, trying to tear her gaze away from his; because the longer she stares into his eyes, the more she feels her resolve slip. she might just start agreeing with him if she isn’t able to focus. but he’s making it hard to focus. her head’s fuzzy. “this -- this is hiding, and... i refuse to be trapped in hiding as much as i refuse to be trapped in reality. i, uh... i was born to  r  u  n  .” the words almost falter at the end, and crux is starting to look less troubled and more angry. she half opens her mouth to soothe him -- to maybe agree to stay a little while longer -- but before she’s able to speak, her hand is seized and she’s yanked from crux’s grasp, turned to face... him. 

     tall, nearly a foot taller than her, and sporting a bowtie. in the middle of the desert. he looks like the sort of man who has just been hit by a burst of energy after taking one hell of a blow; he looks absolutely fired up. he gives her hand the smallest squeeze. “ready to run?” before she can ask for clarification, he’s running and by extension, so is she. a few steps away from crux and it slams into her: what’s happening, what this place nearly did. and then she’s running of her own accord, sprinting behind this stranger. her free hand reaches out to seize her backpack from the chair she left it on, pulling it up onto her shoulder. she can hear footsteps pounding behind them, trying to catch up, but she forces herself not to look.

     “he’s chasing us!” she warns the man she’s running with.

     “yes, it appears so!”

     “what’s gonna happen if he fucking catches us?”

     “you really don’t want me to answer that!” she resists the urge to demand to know what the hell that even means. 

     their path to freedom ( namely, the front doors ) are blocked by meryl and the man she’s with skids to a stop, with nessa very nearly colliding into his shoulder. he looks to be studying the old woman; pulls out a device she’s never seen before, seeming to scan her with it. but crux’s footsteps are entering the lobby now and they don’t have time for whatever this is. nessa steps around the stranger, draws back her first, and sends it crashing into the receptionist’s face, which in turn sends her crashing to the floor. the irishwoman drops her keycard beside her.

     “we’re checking out now.” she seizes the man’s arm and barrels him out the front doors with her. they scramble down the steps ( nessa only half listening as she’s apparently being scolded for punching an old woman in the face ) and she starts to make for the road only to realize her car’s not parked there anymore. shit. her sunglasses are gone. “problem: my ride’s missing!” that could also be a thing.

     “not to worry.” he’s grabbed her hand again and she looks at him, frowning. “mine’s not.” she’s being towed towards the tarp - covered object she noticed the first night she stayed here just as the front doors burst open, crux stepping out of them. the man grasps the tarp and throws it off, revealing... a police phone box. she’s seen pictures of these things and has no idea what the hell one’s doing in the american southwest. before she can even ask, he’s unlocking the door with a key and stepping inside. 

     “what -- what the hell are you doing? he can see us getting in th -- shit.” nessa’s not sure that hiding in this thing is the best plan; but eyes dart around and spot literally no other options, only empty desert, so she flips crux off before she barrels in after the stranger, turning quickly to shut the doors behind her, turning again to lean her body against them, breathing heavily, hoping that her weight might be enough to keep him from getting inside the tiny ph... wait. she’s leaned against the doors of the police box she definitely just stepped into, but she’s looking out at an impossibly large, impossibly advanced space, where the bowtied stranger is leaned up against some kind of console with the biggest, stupidest grin she’s ever seen before. it’s like he’s waiting for something to happen. waiting for her to say something.

                                      “---------- what the fuck?”

[akatsukibandhscenarios]

6. When You Both Confess

Pein You were watching Pein do paperwork. You didn’t mind just sitting there. You just wanted to be with him in the room. Suddenly, a piece of paper slid off his desk. You got up to pick it up for him. When you saw the paper you froze. On it was a note to you. The note said: ‘_____, my actual name is Nagato. The Pein you know is one of my bodies, in a sense. I love you, regardless of which body I show it through.’ “W-What?” You asked out loud. You were shocked and confused. “I wasn’t sure how to say that to you.” Was Pein/Nagato’s response. “I’m not sure which I’m more shocked about. That you are a different person, or that you love me…” You got up and paced around for a few moments. You weren’t sure what you were about to do or say, but then it actually hit you. You loved Pein, and you just found out that he loved you too. “Are you angry?” You walked over to Pein and hugged him. “No. I love you too, but I do want to see what you really look like.” You could feel that he slightly hugged you back. It was as if he had never touched a female before. “That could possibly be arranged.” Zetsu You and Zetsu were working hard on your garden. You wanted it to be perfect, but something was missing. Your favorite plant was not there anymore. “Zetsu, where is my flower?” You asked him sadly. He looked at you, then looked over to where he knew it was. “I’m not sure.” The white half replied. “Maybe you should look for it.” The black half said, annoyed. You glared and went looking for it. You finally found it after 5 minutes, but there was a little card with it. There were blood red letters on it that said ‘We like you a lot. Be ours or get eaten.’ You turned to look at Zetsu. “What is this?” You held up the card. “Are you stupid or something?” The black half snapped. “It clearly tells you what it is.” “Well, I guess this is sweet.” You touched the blood red letters. “Is this actual blood?” “Yes.” “Gross, but I like you too.” You were disgusted, but happy. Sasori You were in Sasori’s workshop with him. You were working on one of your puppets and he was working on one of his. It was a normal peaceful afternoon. You began to hear noises so you looked up. A little puppet was coming up to you. It was holding a necklace. You looked from the puppet up to Sasori who was now standing over you. “I made this for you. I have these feelings for you; I believe it is called love. Will you be my significant other?” Sasori asked. There was a little hint of nervousness to his voice. You couldn’t help but giggle. “Of course Sasori.” You stood up and hugged him. “I love you too.” You felt Sasori let out a sigh of relief. “That is good. Now put on the necklace.” “Can’t you be any more patient with me?” You asked, smiling. He just looked at you as if you were dumb to ask that. You rolled your eyes and picked up the necklace. It was a little wooden heart with ‘S + (First Letter Of Your Name)’ carved into it. “Do you like it?” “Yes I do. It’s so sweet.” “Don’t expect any more ‘sweet’ things from me.” “I won’t.” You couldn’t help but start to laugh. Sasori didn’t laugh, but he did smile a little bit. ~ Itachi You and Itachi were hanging out at your house. You had made lunch and now you both were eating in silence. There was clearly something you both wanted to say, but neither of you knew how to start it. So how do you solve that problem? You just blurt it out and hope for the best. “I think I’m in love with you!” You yelled suddenly. At the same time Itachi said: “I might love you.” “You what?” Both of you questioned in unison. You couldn’t help but start to giggle at the situation. You got up from your chair and hugged him. You didn’t expect him to hug you back, but to your surprise, he did. Itachi and you stayed like that until he spoke again. “You’re mine now. Understand?” Itachi told you. Sure that was demanding, but in its own way it was also sweet. You pulled back to look at him in the eyes to respond. “That means you are mine now too.” You told him with a smile. He nodded his head and pulled you back into the hug. You two were content to stay like that, until your stomach growled loudly. You pulled back, face red with embarrassment. “Uh…” “Let’s finish eating.” When Itachi said that, you could have sworn he was smirking at you. Kisame It was a beautiful sunny day, so you and Kisame were at the beach once again. You two were swimming around, trying to swim faster than the other. You guys ended up getting tired, so the two of you returned to the shore and laid down on your towels that were under a big umbrella. The two of you laid in silence until he broke it. “I’m very sure that I’m in love with you _____.” Kisame told you suddenly. You sat up and looked at him like he was crazy, or better yet, like his blue skin was now neon pink. “W-What?” You asked shocked. “I love you. I understand if you don’t feel the same.” You answered by pouncing onto him and hugging him tightly. “Wh-“ “I love you too, you silly shark. I just didn’t think you’d feel that way about me.” You couldn’t help but giggle with excitement over his feelings for you. “Oh, well it seems like we both got a good surprise.” “Yup, now let’s go swimming again.” The two of you got up and you half dragged Kisame to the water. “You’re my girlfriend now.” He informed you simply. “I am if you are my boyfriend now.” You smiled at him as you two got back into the water. Hidan Hidan and you were out sacrificing people. You weren’t able to do the ritual Hidan did, but you could still kill people and then lay in the diagram like Hidan does. The two of you were just finishing up when Hidan decided to speak. “_____, you’re my fucking girl now. I’ve been thinking and I don’t want to fuck anyone but you.” “But Hidan, we haven’t had sex yet.” “It…that was just…” He sat up, clearly annoyed and maybe a bit flustered. “Was that your way of telling me that you love me?” You sat up to look at him, eager to hear his response. “Pfft, I fucking guess so.” Hidan looked away, so you got up and went to him. You got down on the ground with him and hugged him. “Well, I love you too.” “Good, let’s start killing more fuckers so maybe Jashin will make you immortal like me.” “Alright.” You stood up. “Let’s kill more bitches!” You yelled, holding your retractable spear up in the air. Hidan laughed as he stood up with his and wrapped his arm around you. “Let’s get go, my bitch.” Kakuzu Kakuzu and you had just gotten back from a bounty hunt. The two of you were sitting on your couch and were splitting up the money. Kakuzu “accidentally” dropped money on the ground as he was handing it to you. When the two of you bent down to pick it all up, he slipped an extra dollar on the top. When you picked it up, you froze. Written on the dollar was three words ‘I love you’. “K-Kakuzu?” You looked up at him and smiled. “I love you _____. More than I love money.” Kakuzu told you. you smiled brightly and wrapped your arms around his neck. “I love you more than money too.” You giggled as you felt his arms wrap around your waist. “Will you be my girlfriend?” He whispered in your ear. Even while whispering, his voice was deep and it made you shudder. It seems like that voice will always make your brain turn to mush. “Of course I will be, as long as you’ll be my boyfriend.” “Oh yes I will.” “Good, now let’s go back to counting the money.” He nodded his head and you could see the small smile he had on his face that he thought was hidden under his mask. Tobi You and Obito were lying on your couch together. When he was calm and without a mask, you called him Obito, and when he was masked and hyper, you called him Tobi. You enjoyed your time with both Tobi and Obito. “We love you, you know.” Obito told you when he thought you were asleep. You smile and waited to see if he’d continue talking. “I wish we could come out and tell you, but I guess we’re worried that we’ll get you caught up in our weirdness and scare you away.” “Weirdness is good Obito.” He looked down at you, shocked. “Tobi, Obito, whichever you are, I love both of you. You’re honestly the same guy underneath it all.” “I’m glad you think so.” “You’re my boyfriend now.” “Oh am I?” He teased. “Yup, I’m your girlfriend and you’re my boyfriend.” “Don’t I get a say in it?” “Nope,” You sat up and smiled at him. “_____ needs to be punished then.” He put his mask back on and his childish voice was back. You’re eyes widened. He then began to tickle you. You let out a girly scream and ran off, him right behind you. Deidara Deidara had told you that he was making a special bomb that would let off a special explosion. You asked him what it was, but he refused to tell you. He told you that it was a secret and that you would find out soon enough. Suddenly, he burst in through your door, knocking it off its hinges. You looked up from the chair you were sitting on and stared at him. “_____ I have that bomb ready.” Deidara told you excitedly. “Okay?” “Come on I want to show you it right now, hn.” He dragged you out of your house and to your explosion field. “Ready, hn?” “Yep.” “Katsu!” With that, a huge explosion went off. Sparks of all different colors went everywhere. It then spelled out the words ‘I love you _____’. You gasped and looked at Deidara. He looked pretty proud of himself. “You love me?” “Clearly, hn. I didn’t spend a week on that for nothing, hn.” “You’re an ass Barbie, but I love you too.” You hugged him tightly and he hugged you back. “You’re mine now, hn.” “Yes, yes I am.”

Madara

Madara (and his falcon Tiberius) has been living with you for a while now. You have managed to get him to open up and talk rather than just reply to whatever you say. He told you his plans for the future and how he wants to rule the world. The usual things you’d expect from him. He also began to be a little nicer to you. He didn’t wear the ‘I’m going to murder you’ face much when he was around just you. It was nice, you finally felt like he was your friend. Though of course, he was an attractive bad boy mysterious type of guy and your heart decided that it was going to fall in love with him. You couldn’t tell him that though, right? I mean he would probably kill you for it. You were sitting outside with your eyes closed, enjoying the beautiful cool and rainy day as you thought about your feelings for the man. You heard a flutter of wings to your right, and opened your eyes to see Tiberius staring into your face.

“What do you want?” You questioned, a bit freaked out. He had a scroll holder on his back, which usually wasn’t there. Wasn’t that a hawk’s job not a falcons? Oh well. You reached out and took it off him completely, as he looked annoyed to have it on him. He then flew back into the house without a sound. You slowly opened the scroll compartment and a scroll fell out. You unrolled it to be able to read the writing on it.

It said:

‘_____, it has come to my attention that you feel some form of more-than-friendship towards me. I thought it best to address the situation before it got out of control. I too have begun to feel some form of more-than-friendship towards you. I suppose it is what can be called “love”. Therefore I believe this means we are “in love” and now a “couple”. Which is not something I’ve had time for in my life previously.’

“Oh…” You were shocked. Madara had just admitted he knew you were in love with him, but also said he loved you as well. In a weird, non-feeling type of way. You had grown accustomed to his behavior though. It was hard for him to feel anything but hate and negativity. You smiled to yourself. You could vaguely sense him watching you from the doorway. “Yes Madara, I love you.” You called out to the man, figuring he was waiting for some form of verbal announcement of the fact. You felt his presence retreat back inside the house, but he felt lighter, like he was happy.

[kafziels]

weird shit i saw freshman year (2016-2017, part two)

again this is late and mildly nsfw

-we were talking about the sexual connotation of 'thrust his maids to the wall' in Romeo and Juliet and Matt asked to give an example sentence but he said 'I thrust my thing into her' needless to say everyone lost it

-English teacher told us he met a guy who said guys get 'periods,' saying he gets moody and anxious around the 28th every month

-same teacher called Leonardo DiCaprio a baby. 'He's just a baby!'

-ok we're currently in a bad omen, the power went out twice, then we saw a black bird in the hallway (IN THE SCHOOL) and then seconds after the fire alarm went off, turns out a generator blew out

-plot twist: we continued school that day

-english teacher was explaining what the nurse meant when she said Juliet has a bump on her head 'as big as a young cock'rel's stone' - a rooster's nut. Which is word for word, he also said a rooster's balls. And when he said 'rooster's nut' someone yelled 'BUST IT' and he said 'no. that's disgusting.' And hE STOOD UP AND GOT HAND SANITIZER AND HE WAS RUBBING IT ALL THE WAY UP TO HIS ELBOWS, NOT BREAKING EYE CONTACT WITH THIS KID THE ENTIRE TIME

-'my mom takes so long to answer her damn phone. I could get a letter back from Africa faster than her. I get a letter from some fuckin African kid named chicken mcboob nugget faster then my mom'

-*watching romeo + juliet in class* 'she's not IN the fish tank, giana'

-guys pointing bananas at each other like guns

-English teacher is giving an example to the class like 'say you go to Panda Express and you get orange chicken. and the you get another plates of orange chicken. and then you get a third plate of orange chicken. what can you infer is gonna happen sooner or later?' and a girl yelled out 'DYSENTERY'

-'what's your favorite chinese food?'

'PANDA'

'no chinese FOOD'

'P A N D A'

-football jocks behind me in study hall telling each other 'bro you look like a teddy bear'

-a girl in the hall yelled out 'DOES ANYONE HAVE A TORTILLA CHIP'

-English teacher: "ok so imagine me cutting annie's head off with a golden axe-"

-someone brought a guinea pig to school, lost it, and now it's roaming the school.

-'mr. randolph I have sss. sensitive scalp syndrome.'

-a girl had a coughing fit and my English teacher said 'if you're gonna die...do it quietly'

-a guy yelled to his friends across the hall 'I didn't touch ANY of his junk'

-there was a security guard in the hallway crying during the daily playing of the national anthem

-they're playing jazz music over the school's PA system???

-the classroom phone rang in choir while we were singing a grease medley and the teacher answered by singing along with us. when he hung up he said 'the principal was not impressed with my song.'

-the other day I saw a kid open a highlighter and put it on his lips like chapstick

-'mr. randolph did you have heelies when you were little'

'no i had friends'

-someone asked my history teacher a question and he responded by fake crying and saying 'I don't care' in the most pained voice I've ever heard

-'anybody got a toothbrush' in the middle of class

-'paris needs a cock ring'

-english teacher has a huge bleeding cut on his hand and all that's on it is a Barbie bandaid

-'I am death's boy toy' *cue mom friend turning around with a disappointed sigh*

-a girl came into history crying about a breakup and saying 'don't date people they just wanna ruin your life' and the teacher said 'is there anyway you can ruin your life more quietly'

-they just called every girl named Abby down to the office. the announcement was a whole minute long

-someone in the back of my study hall is brushing his teeth. the nearest bathroom is across the school. I don't want to turn around

-I was taking notes in english and someone in the hall yelled 'WHUP' and then we all heard a smack. I think someone fell

-*sniff sniff* 'smells like communism'

-'I was choking on some popcorn in German class while we were playing bingo so I'm sitting there like 'ECH' the whole class but I won bingo so it's ok'

-English teacher: 'were talking about salty farts here'

-'do babies fart?'

'YES THEY DO AND ITS DISGUSTING'

-there's a girl in my English class who, every so often, with no regular schedule, brings an entire jar of Nutella to class and eats it

-someone in history farted and a girl said 'that was a fart'

-history teacher was one his phone and a girl (same one from before) was like 'oooo I see you on that phone texting ya girl just HIT SEND' and the teacher said 'actually someone in my family just died but thanks'

-someone compared my English teacher to guy fieri and he said 'are you seriously body shaming me here' he said the same thing upon being compared to homer simpson

-'if I could strangle you with your ponytail I would' -english teacher 2017

-'that guy assisted at jesus' birth he's so old'

-choir teacher was very happy today. He was seriously considering getting neon hair extensions in class

-'is it susan boyle?'

'NO, SHUT YOUR MOUTH'

-someone mentioned the musical 'the book of mormon' and an actual mormon in the classroom got offended and the other guy got written up to the office. this is high school

-'if you're giving human qualities to a bear is it personification?'

'the bear was evading his taxes'

-English teacher: 'I'm gonna throat punch the next person to mention the boss baby movie'

-mid-choir class a dude burst into the room, grabbed the tissue box, and ran out. I have never seen this guy before, I don't even think he goes to school here

-English teacher is wearing a pink polo shirt and black skinny jeans right now (as I type)

-when one of the teachers greeted another, he dabbed

-'let me guess: she can twerk'

-'if tad and annie have a dougie-off....I will add 12 bonus points to everybody's final.'

-someone walking in the halls making the loudest whistle I've heard in ages, then tapping on the walls, why am I scared

-kid putting hemp lotion on: 'if I don't get high in the next 5 minutes I'm slapping you'

-during a shooter drill our choir teacher pulled a softball bat out of a closet in his office to explain he could use it if he had to. The bat said 'big daddy' on the end

-a girl at the end of an empty hallway just screamed out 'OH MY GOD I LOVE CHILI'

-middle of English class, the room got quiet for a moment and we all heard a scream. English teacher shrugged and got back to the lesson as if it was normal???

-during musical rehearsal: 'the shoe does not fit. NO SHIT. SHE ISNT THE PROTAGONIST.'

-'I was gonna grab a calculator but today I found out I'm black.' -friend who has always been black

-'that was such a huge yawn. I thought you were gonna swallow your face.'

-'why would you not want to be called a potato?'

-'WE'LL GET TO THE BUTTHOLE LIPS EVENTUALLY, EASE UP'

-'let's say I had an altercation with a hedgehog'

-my english teacher just threw a yard stick at someone, missed and hit someone else, then justified it with 'I had to use my staff'

-'why are you petting my leg'

'it's...firm'

-a guy in math: *leans over and whispers* 'is it weird that I'm black and I like to cover myself in flour and sometimes I think about putting myself in hot oil' (this is the same guy from the calculator incident)

-my big white english teacher, giggling like a child: 'are you throwing gang signs in my class?'

-the assistant teacher who everyone teases for his clothes? yeah I saw him in the hall on my way to class, he was wearing white pants with rainbow diamonds on them and a red sweater vest. I'm afraid.

-English teacher: 'can you go back to your seat and stop staring at me like someone who had to stop taking a dump early and is just...walking awkwardly cause they had to pinch it off'

-two dudes were talking with their heads out the bus windows so they could hear each other and the one guy said 'dude I had a mayonnaise sandwich for lunch it was awesome'

-English teacher followed through and held a dougie-off and the whole class got 14 bonus points on our big tests as a reward for two people participating

-a girl in the front of the class threw 3 packs of graham crackers to her friend in the back and another girl went 'what is this, the damn food drive?'

-in the middle of english we heard a cackle that I can only describe as purely villainous

-conversation I overheard between two boys at lunch:

'you think you're so cool what do you want a fuckin cookie?'

'yeah actually'

'well go buy one'

'I'm broke!'

'I know'

'What did you do this morning?'

'I dunno, what did YOU do this morning, twizzlers?'

-'that's like three fruit snacks, man. that's not a good deal.'

-there's an outbreak of whooping cough right now and everyone is running through the halls screaming 'WOOT WOOT' and that's the most I've heard that phrase since 2012

-a kid shaking his friend by the shoulders saying 'mr. krabs, you KNOW the secret formula!!'

-in English we needed an APPROPRIATE definition for 'thrust' (see last time) and a girl yelled out 'DO THE MOTION' when the teacher called on someone so he replied with 'DON'T CORRUPT HER'

-during exams someone was doing bird calls (like those exotic birds that go 'OOAAAA OOAAAA')

-in homeroom people were fuckin BARKING

-we're watching Marley and Me in english class and there's like 5 seniors crying, the one girl keeps saying 'he's a good boy...he's a good boy...'

-a girl next to me in math is giving a bj to an off-brand capri sun

[christinaengela]

Criticism. As writers, sooner or later we’re likely to encounter it. How we deal with it – either internally or externally – depends greatly on our personality, and also I suppose, on what sort of place we’re in at any particular moment.

Here are some of my thoughts on the subject.

So someone posted a nasty remark on one of your social media book shares, or left a shitty 1 star review and a harshly-worded comment for you on Amazon. You stare at it, re-read it a second time just to try and absorb any sense or usefulness in the words as you fight a rising tide of red anger surging up from your chest area.

Why did they do that? Was the book really all that bad? Was there really something wrong with your writing? How could they be so mean – don’t they realize I pored my heart and soul into this? Is what they said in any way helpful or – no matter how remote – possibly true?

There is a huge difference between someone being helpful (or trying to be) to a writer. “Perhaps you should’ve made the story longer? It was great – just too short!” or “You misspelled ‘bureaucracy’ on page 11!” are examples of positive criticism. My mom always used to praise my writing talent, but frequently criticized my choice in genre – she didn’t enjoy sci-fi – she suggested I write in more contemporary, mundane settings… in genres like suspense, drama, action and adventure! I used to counter with “but I can do that in sci-fi too!”

That sort of criticism is helpful, positive and constructive in nature – and they can be discerned on the basis of their intentions to help the writer to grow or improve their writing, not to break them down for it, or even to cause them to stop writing altogether.

There are numerous and even perhaps unfathomable reasons for people to criticize a writer or their writing in writing – by leaving nasty remarks, bad reviews and even by sending them hate-mail – and on the unhelpful side, they include everything from simple jealousy to disagreement with the writer or their statements, and even disapproval of their subject and the way they address or present it often form part of the motivation for it.

In the following example, a reader downloaded a FREE eBook of mine – a short story called “Death By Vampire”. They left a poor review and a rant on Barnes & Noble.

“This book was only 19 pgs. Had potential. ***spoiler seemed to have a lot of unnecessary information. Also the description of the blood diamonds didn’t make any sense, they are named for their color but the color is green? Needs some editing.” 2 stars – Anonymous

I know this person didn’t actually READ the story, because inside it there was a whole paragraph that EXPLAINED how the aliens called the green stones ‘blood diamonds’ because they had GREEN blood – but it “needs some editing” because he didn’t understand it? All this guy did was expose his illiteracy!

As to length, it was a free short story, but he obviously missed that part too.  Yet that story now has a 2-star review and a snotty comment from someone who obviously has problems with comprehension – and a narcissistic mean streak.

What can I take home from this? Not much – just that some people are basically mean-spirited and will make me the scapegoat for their own failures… but then, being part of an oft-persecuted social grouping blamed for everything from stock-market crashes to natural disasters, that’s nothing new to me. Should I take it personally? I’d like to think not – after all, what real value does unfair criticism really have?

In a technical sense, is there anything I can change or improve on the item involved? Were the words or sentences not clear enough? Were they confusing? Was a thorough spelling and grammar check done during the editing process? I honestly can’t see how I can make the story – or the facts of the story – any clearer without resorting to formatting the eBook using neon lettering, or replacing them with pictures to cater for the illiterate ‘reader’.

Moving on, negative reviews left at book sellers can and do damage a writer’s reputation – and in the long-run, their income. Reviews and ratings affect sales and distribution after all, mainly because readers will be more inclined to look at a book that has a bunch of 4 and 5 star ratings rather than a book that has one or many 1 or 2 stars. Let’s look at an example:

A few years ago I witnessed a writer falling under attack from his former small press, their writers – and everyone else they could rally to their cause. Lies and slander were spread broadly, and I personally witnessed calls being made for their cohort of cronies to ostracize him from the writing community and to even leave negative 1-star reviews on all his books! Other tactics and dirty tricks were employed against this poor undeserving writer, but this one is pertinent to my example. Suffice to say, that writer suffered a breakdown, has disappeared from social media – and hasn’t publishing anything since 2016. In that case it’s safe to say the bullies and haters won.

Any hostile criticism of our work as writers tends to have the potential to cause a writer to doubt themselves. Often that can also be one of the reasons why people leave nasty remarks – the writer or their work has (for whatever reason) offended them – and their intention might be to hurt them out of some feeling of vengeance or satisfaction. Some people, like the unfortunate author in my example are less resilient in the face of such attacks – while others, like me – well, I just don’t care for what the nasties say – anyway, I have more than enough fan-mail and great reviews to compensate. As far as I’m concerned, it’s water off a ducks back – and I’m a very oily duck.

Naturally, there are some things that spring to mind for every writer when faced with stinging and even personal criticism: are they right about me? Are they right about my work? After all, your writing might be utter crap laced with spelling and grammatical errors – and the story might make no sense, have plot holes big enough to drive a bus through, and your characterizations might be almost non-existent – right?

Are these critics giving you advice on how to improve your work? Is there anything of value in their ‘feedback’ you can learn from and use to produce a better story?

If the answer is no, and you’ve reason to believe they’re just being vindictive – such as making personal attacks and indulging in name-calling without giving any serious or pertinent pointers on how to improve your work, then their criticism is actually weaponized hatred intended to break you down! Let’s be honest – when someone criticizes your hard work, your ‘baby’, your pride and joy – it hurts a bit! Part of the answer – not the sum total of it – is of course to grow a thick skin.

In my particular case, I write in the science fiction and horror genres – as well as in non-fiction from time to time. While a lot of my fiction writing contains the usual sci-fi or horror elements, some of it also focuses on LGBT issues and presents these in a sympathetic and favorable light – which naturally draws ire and derogatory remarks from the prejudiced and bigoted who seemingly can’t resist leaving snotty comments on social media ads or shares of my work.

It’s not that my work is badly written or poorly presented – it’s that they despise the people I use as heroes and heroines in my stories and dare to explain and promote them in the face of their ignorance and hatred. I defy the established anti-LGBT stereotypes – and I flaunt it. It’s also that, once they do a little background check, they realize that I’m also part of that same group they’ve been programmed to despise! Add to that, once they confront me and I not only stand up to them, but also trounce them in a debate, that really makes them foam at the mouth!

How dare I? How dare I stand in the open, unashamedly writing about people they hate in a good positive way? How dare I not feel any guilt? How dare I even exist?

#gallery-0-10 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-10 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-0-10 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-10 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

In the below example, I held a free e-book giveaway contest in my Facebook author group in August 2016. I gave away a few books to contest winners. Soon after, the South African right wing ‘Christian’ (aka Levitican) community on Facebook went nuts about me promoting ‘demonic writings’, ‘homosexuality, sodomy and demon worship’! It was truly surreal!

The vast majority of the hate-mail I’ve gathered over the years – and remember the ones I’m showing you in this article are just since the advent of Facebook, from about 2016 or so – have been directed at me for sharing my books or writing or website!

Many of these people express negative ideas and emotions towards me because I’m transgender, a lesbian, an atheist – and because I’ve steadfastly refused to remain silent in the face of the overwhelming wave of hatred looming for numerous diverse minority groups in the world today. This provides one reason – albeit a big one – why most of my hostile critics and haters are what they are, or at least explains why they’re hostile toward me and to my writing.

#gallery-0-11 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-11 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-0-11 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-11 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

My advice when receiving this sort of hate-mail or harsh personal criticism is “take it from whom it comes” – which means, consider who the person is that’s criticizing you or your work, and what their real reasons are for doing so – and give it a value or rating. Is their opinion worth your time? Are they trying to be helpful – or are they simply being hurtful? Should you even take what they say seriously? Should you care? Most of the time I laugh at the voluntary idiocy, poor grammar and spelling in the hate-mail sent my way, and casually toss it in the pile.

I have a use for haters and hate-mail you see, and they’re too obtuse to even realize it.

#gallery-0-12 { margin: auto; } #gallery-0-12 .gallery-item { float: left; margin-top: 10px; text-align: center; width: 33%; } #gallery-0-12 img { border: 2px solid #cfcfcf; } #gallery-0-12 .gallery-caption { margin-left: 0; } /* see gallery_shortcode() in wp-includes/media.php */

By far most of my critics and haters are religious extremist fanatics who engage in lunatic fringe politics and vent homophobic, transphobic and often racist language because they see me as more than just an enemy of their personal beliefs – but the personification thereof.

99% of the time, the people sending me hate-mail or criticizing me as a writer are attacking ME directly as an individual, not the worth or quality of my writing. I’ve also had the occasional odd-ball attack me using the fact that I’m self-published as though it means I’m somehow ‘illegitimate’ and not a ‘real author’, when all this does is reveal their ignorance about the publishing industry.

Here’s a clue, peeps – if self-publishing was in any way dishonest or dishonorable, I would have nothing to do with it. If was in any way, shape or form embarrassed or ashamed of self-publishing my work – or under the impression that it was in any way inferior to books by the big dogs, I wouldn’t be openly marketing myself or my writing as self-published!

It’s worth mentioning that within that same group of people who’ve sent me outright hate-mail, I’ve yet to encounter a single one who’s actually READ any of my books – they’re people who simply seized an opportunity to vent their hatred for me as a person because at that moment I represented the thing they hate.

In that light, this means that while my writing is good, even excellent, it is in their view ‘rubbish’ because what I write (or what I write about) contradicts their indoctrinated belief structure. To the folks who almost invariably misapply basic English words like “they’re/their/there” and “your/you’re”, I’m a ‘libral dirtbag’, a ‘libtard’, a ‘Christophobe’, a ‘commie queer’ and an ‘atheist fascist’ – and somehow inferior to them, not just because I’m part of the LGBT social group – but because I’m not afraid, acquiescent, silent or invisible.

I remind myself that these same characters tend to treat anyone more intelligent or in any way qualified, capable or talented than themselves – like scientists, doctors, artists – writers – and a variety of qualified professionals the exact same dismissive way – and I see them for what they are.

Over the last few decades of internet use, I’ve accumulated an archive of hateful remarks of all kinds, from people determined to convince me of the validity and value of their ignorance, to those who resort to childish mockery and blatant name-calling. (You can view it here if you like.)

I’ve always lived by the motto “if you piss off the right people, you’re doing something right”!

One fella wearing the crazy-pants ranted about how my children’s book on bullying, “Other Kids Are Kids Almost Just Like You” – aimed to teach children compassion for others – would ‘turn kids gay’ and that it was child abuse and I ought to be arrested!

So how do I handle hate-mail? Easy. I shrug it off, have a few good laughs – then save it, take screenshots of it – and use it as promotional material! In fact, I actually look forward to getting hate-mail these days!

After all, so many haters can’t be wrong, can they? 😉

I hope you’ve found this useful!

Take care and have a lovely day!

If you would like to know more about Christina Engela and her writing, please feel free to browse her website.

If you’d like to send Christina Engela a question about her life as a writer or transactivist, please send an email to christinaengela@gmail.com or use the Contact form.

Show your appreciation for Christina’s work!

All material copyright © Christina Engela, 2020.

How I Handle Hate-mail & Criticism As A Writer Criticism. As writers, sooner or later we're likely to encounter it. How we deal with it - either internally or externally - depends greatly on our personality, and also I suppose, on what sort of place we're in at any particular moment.

[ihave-sinned]

Love Bait | Chapter One: ENLISTMENT

Fandom: Shingeki No Kyojin/Attack On Titan (Anime) Type: Series Pairing: Levi x OC Word Count: 5784 Category: Fanfiction (Angst and Eventual Smut)

**Note: Some scenes/dialogues were originally from the manga/anime** **A/N: Sorry for the delay and sorry for any wrong spelling or grammar in advance.Please enjoy reading :) If you haven’t read the PROLOGUE it’s  >>here<< **

“I never said that.They want me dead.But i never said i wanted to die,"

   CHAPTER ONE: ENLISTMENT

 Wall Sina | Year 847 | Mitras | 9:00 am

Placing my book on my lap,I stretched my arms out into the early morning,I always knew it would be a fine day when I couldn’t feel the temperature of the air.It’s summer.The hottest of all four seasons.I felt the gentle wind caressed my face as i opened the small window of the carriage and let my eyes wandered around my surrounding.The sun was already a friendly ball of yellow,promising more heat as the day progressed.Blue sky and white strips of cloud scattered up above,some are long strips,some are small but my favorite ones were those which has a weird formation,creating various beautiful shapes that will sometimes tickle my imagination. All in all i couldn’t have asked for a better weather.

Minutes passed by and i can no longer smell the sweet fragrance of freshly cut grass.The sound of birds chattering in the trees faded replaced with the faint sound of people talking,footsteps and the noise made by the objects being push,pull or drop can be heard inside the carriage I’m riding in.People scattered everywhere doing their own business. The once quite scenery was replaced by the noise of the lively and busy market place. My mind was fully occupied by the surrounding when I felt someone licked my hands.

"Hey,buddy,” I smiled,petting my dog’s head as he barked,his tail wagging.

He’s a gray German shepherd gift given to me by my mother on my fourteenth birthday, he’s pretty big compare to the average size of a dog,and he looks like a smaller version of wolf because of his color.I love exploring yet i am terrible at directions at the same time,so I get lost often,and Evo was trained for that.He was trained to be my guard and to be my guide.He’s always with me whenever I go outside,specially if I’m going to a place I’m not familiar with.

“Whoa!”I heard the coachman yelled.The horse halted with a neigh as i felt the carriage I’m riding in stopped.

I closed the book on my lap with a small thud before placing it beside me.I tucked a strand of my armpit length brown hair behind my ear as i stick my head out the window of the carriage,peeking outside.

“Lady,” said the girl beside me. “Please sit properly,” Her voice was soft yet stern.

My honey brown orbs met her green once as I put my head back inside the carriage.My eyes flickered with excitement,not paying attention to what she had said as i felt an electrifying feeling surge through my veins.

“Naya,are we already ‘here’? ”Naya’s lips pursed slightly,her eyebrows furrowed a bit as she stared at me,worry was visibly etched on her face.I saw small glint of fear crossed across her eyes and she let out a quite shaky sigh as if bracing herself to what will gonna happen.Her knuckles white,as she unconsciously clutched onto her long skirt before nodding.I brought my hands on top of her knuckles,giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Naya,Everything will be fine,so don’t be nervous,” I said giving her a reassuring smile, “Trust me,”

Naya stared at me for a moment before smiling slightly, giving me a small nod of agreement.I smiled once more before placing my book back inside my bag,clutching the handle tightly as i opened the door of the carriage.

“Let’s go then.” I said rather cheerfully as I looked at Evo and he started barking excitedly, “You too,buddy,” and that’s the only cue he needed before he jumped quickly off the carriage and began walking around while sniffing the ground.

As soon as my feet touch the ground,a man in his 50’s approached me.He’s wearing a black tuxedo and a black hat.He has a broad-shoulder,a lean posture and a tanned wrinkled skin– a sign of aging.He has this friendly smile plastered on his face as he removed his hat,exposing those gray-ish strands of his.He then bow down his head courteously before standing straight placing his hat back on his head,still smiling. Evo jumped up on him gleefully,his front paws were on the man’s waist level,tail shaking from side to side and his tongue sticking out.The old man laughed calming the overjoyed dog by petting its head.

“Uncle Rob!" I smiled back.

"Vaccines,medicines,food and clothes are all ready,Miss Elena,”

My lower lips protruded in a childish pout as i heard the way he addressed me.I hoisted my bag on my shoulder,crossing my arms over my chest,pout never leaving my mouth earning a small laugh from the old man.

“Just Elena,Uncle Rob,”

I never liked the way Naya and Uncle Rob addresses me.Firstly,because Uncle Rob,even though he’s not my Uncle by blood, he’s always been working under my family as a butler,even before i was born.And Naya is like a real sister to me. She used to call me in my real name tho,but when she heard Uncle Rob calling me Miss Elena,and ever since when she started to learn the honorifics she began calling me 'Lady’ treating me high and mighty rather than treating me as her own sister.As a real sister.And it saddens me.

“Oh! Hi,Mr.Williams,” I heard Naya spoke behind me with a lively voice as she get herself out of the carriage. Evo was now sitting quietly beside me,his tongue still sticking out.

“My,my,You two really grew so fast,huh?Last time i remember you two were just this small,” He said motioning his hands,placing them on his waistline as Naya and I giggled softly,”Oh, and about the goods,“ The old man added before he whistled. To my shock ten men suddenly came up and began unloading the carriage.I blinked few times, analyzing what’s happening.

"Did–,” I said pointing at the men carrying the goods.”Did my dad sent them here?”

"No,Grandma did.It will be hard for us to carry those boxes without them,Lady,”

‘Well,obviously’ i thought.I bet i couldn’t even carry a single box,but sending ten men was kinda over reacting.I looked at Uncle Rob for confirmation,giving him a 'for real?’ look and he nodded.

“I know but,I was expecting fewer people.Maybe three men is enough,right?”

“Well,” i heard Uncle Rob sighed “Your granny knows how dangerous for us to go in such place,so she thinks sending three men is not enough.”

I frowned but nodded.

“Anyway,Uncle,”I said as i moved my gaze from the boxes to Uncle Rob “Where is 'it’?“ I asked and he looked at me questioningly.

"Oh,that,” he said as he remember, “On your left,Miss El,”

The frown on my face subsided slowly as I felt the surge of excitement runs through my body once again.I turned my head on my left side and gulped, Silently reading the letters written on the wall right next to an arrow.

'To Underground City’

I am finally here.

Again.

 I flopped down on my bed groaning while messing my hair,feeling disappointed while I felt Evo lay beside me.I laid on my stomach while digging my face on my pillow as I clutched on it tightly.Lifting up my head a little,I look through my windows,quietly watching as the brilliant orb of amber and tangerine sunk lower and lower in the sky until it dipped down into the horizon, painting the sky in magnificent hues of fiery red and crimson illuminating my room. The colors faded from maroon to neon pink and majestic purple. An impossibly bright orange colored the world a sparkling gold as the sun descended. The sky changed from cornflower blue to a subtle purple, speckled with diamonds and adorned in one large orb of opal.

The first summer night of this year.

The dim light of the moon was the only one that serves a small light in my huge dark room.I rolled on my bed and lay on my back,staring at the white ceiling of my room in the middle of silence.The goods were properly distributed.I enjoyed this project but I’m quite disappointed at some point.So far the projects were successful except 'him’.

My first project was to help the refugees of Wall Maria.Those people who has been forced to leave their hometown and moved inside Wall Rose when the outer wall was breached by the Armored Titan and Colossal Titan two years ago.I chose Underground City for my second project not only because I saw how miserable was the life of people living in there but also,because of 'him’.That boy who saved me and Naya.

I knew that my chance to meet him again after thirteen long years was so small,I didn’t even catch his name,neither I know if I would recognized him if I see him.But i willingly took the risk.I just wanted to thank him for what he did to me and to Naya. And by 'thanking him’ I mean,I wanted to help him.I can help him out of that place if that’s what he want.I never get the chance to thank him back then because he left as soon as my parents came and found me.

’If he didn’t left maybe I could convinced my parents to adopt him too’.

How does he look like again? I couldn’t actually remember.Neither Naya can.The only thing I can remember were his eyes.Those pair of grey orbs,staring coldly.One of the most beautiful pair I have ever seen in my entire life.I sighed closing my eyes falling into a deep slumber.

 Three consecutive knocks on my door woke me up from my sleep. Evo lifted his head and opened his eyes raising his left ear as the door opened with a small squeak ,but then lay his head back on my bed comfortably,closing his eyes when he saw it was just Naya who entered my room.I opened my eyes groaning as I glanced at the wall clock.

9:45 pm.

“Lady!" Naya called out catching her breath, one hand resting on her knee and the other one holding a small lamp. I sat on my legs lazily,stretching my limbs before rubbing my eyes.I looked at myself at the mirror beside my bed,my hair,a tangled mess.My gaze moved from the mirror to Naya.

"What is it,Naya?” I tilted my head in a slight confusion as i scrutinized the girl in front of me, “Did you run?" i asked yawning.

She swallowed and nodded,trying to calm her breath.

"You seem so tired,Lady.Would you like to rest first?”

I shook my head and sat on the edge of my bed trying to fix my hair with my fingers.

“Nah,I’m fine.I just woke up,”  I said still fixing my hair. “So,what’s up with you running like that?”

“Another letter arrived," Naya said showing out a small white envelope.

I looked at it before I nodded nonchalantly.Just another letter from the medical establishments doesn’t excites me.After i attained my highest education in the field of Medicine and graduated with the highest award being the youngest person who ranked first in the over-all-ranking,since then, medical organizations started their obsession on sending me letters,offering and encouraging me to join them,however,none of those letters caught my interest.They keep sending letters and i keep on refusing.I know that they just want me for money,the name and the fame.If I joined them,the chance of being hired by the nobles as their personal doctor will get higher and that also means bigger money.And i absolutely loathed the idea.

"Guess i need to declined another letter hmm?”

I shrugged walking towards my vanity mirror to brush my hair.

“But,Lady..” Naya said with her widened eyes looking at me, “This is not 'just another letter’,” 

I stopped.Looking at Naya through my mirror.

“What is it then?” I asked,raising my right eyebrow.My eyes flickered with curiosity.

“It’s a letter from the royal family.Here," She said and I frowned,confused. Naya showed the envelope,pointing the stamp.I squinted my eyes looking at the small white envelope through my mirror. "It has a royal stamp,Lady,”

Recognizing the stamp,I gasped and spun around quickly.I walked towards Naya to check the letter myself. Naya hand it over me.The stamp was the image of the castle and the King’s initials.My eyes widened as my fingers touched the stamp.

‘But why?

I thought.I looked at Naya,and she’s already looking at me,My confused hazel brown hues met her pair of confused green once,returning my eyes on the small white envelope,i opened the letter that was addressed to me.My eyes scanned the letter.Each word was neatly written.And on the lower right,there was the King’s signature along with the royal stamp just like the stamp on the outside cover.The letter was clearly not an invitation nor an offer.It’s an order–An order from the King.Defying it means death.I can’t just decline it.As i proceed on reading,a certain line caught my attention.A small smirk crept on my face as I folded the paper neatly placing it back on the envelope,closing it.

“Pack your things,Naya,” I said walking towards my bed,“ We’re leaving.”

“Wha–..Where are we going,Lady?”

“Grandma’s,”I answered shortly as i get my luggage under my bed.

“But,Lady!The King expect you to be there before sunrise,” Her voice trembling as she speaks.”And if you refused you will be sent to–” her eyes widened as if realization hits her.  

I didn’t speak, instead I walked towards my closet and get a good amount of clothes,placing it inside my luggage.

“Lady,Don’t tell me you–” the crease forming between his eyebrows became deeper.

“Yes,” I said calmly.

She opened her mouth like she’s about to say something but it seems like she can’t find the right term,that she’s unsure what to say so she closed it again,before she bit her bottom lip.

“You know dad will never allow me to go.” I sighed,turning to her,placing my hands on either side of her shoulder. “This is the only chance i have," 

"But,” she paused searching for words,”I know that you know this is not a good idea,Elena,” 

I was quite shock when she called me in my real name.Sign that she’s angry yet worried,but she can’t stop me. I’ve waited for this opportunity for so long.I’m thankful that she always worry about me.I really am.But now,It’s the right time for us to choose our own path.

"Yes,I’m sorry,” 

I murmured as i watched her walked towards the door quietly.The sound of opening and closing of my door is the only noise can be heard,a quite click followed. Naya walked out of my room leaving me without a single word.

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

Wall Rose | Year 847 | Ehrmich District (south) | 12:00 am

Sipping my tea, I let my eyes wander in my surrounding. A wooden table in front of me and a cup of tea on the table.This house was not as fancy as the one where me and Naya live.This house is more simple yet it gives me the feeling of relaxation and comfort. I’ve missed this house.Me and Naya used to spend our vacation in this house back then, but it stopped when I became preoccupied with my studies.

I heard someone cleared their throat.Following the sound, my gaze fell on my grandmother’s face.Her suspicious eyes already boring at me.

“So,what brought you here,young women?”

“Are you not happy to see us,granny?” I said dramatically clutching my chest.

“Shut up,El.You know that’s not what i meant,”

I pouted childishly.My grandmother is stricter than my mother,while my father has always been the softest one.Basically my grandmother’s the strictest person in the family.

“Why?Is it now bad to visit you,granny?”

“No.But at midnight?Seriously El?It will only take two hours of driving for you to reached my house.And that means you didn’t really planned to visit me but you had to because something came up.” she paused sipping her coffee. “So tell me,young woman.Did something wrong happened?”

My childish pout was now replaced with a serious expression,lips pursed tightly as I turned my gaze to Naya. She’s fidgeting while looking at the unmoving liquid substance in-front of her,holding her mug tightly.I sighed. I’ve already mentioned my plan to my grandmother before as well so I know she wouldn’t be so surprised if I bring up the topic.I turned my gaze to my grandmother, my hazel brown eyes met her dark brown hues still staring at me intently,I wet my lips.

“I am leaving for Military Training,grandma,”  I said as I stared at her not blinking while biting my inner cheek.

She continue to stare at me as well with so much intensity as if she’s looking for something in my eyes.Silence.The wind blow and the cold air entered through the open window of the dinning room and slightly caressed my cheeks. Silence. Only the sound of leaves swaying with the wind can be heard. Silence. Naya looked at me then to the old woman,feeling the tension rising up.

“No," My grandma said her voice low yet firm.

I let out a sigh.I just realized I was unconsciously holding my breath while I was waiting for my grandmother’s answer.

"You can’t do anything even if you’re against it,granny.The King sent a letter earlier,ordering me to work under him as his personal doctor.They’ll send someone to fetch me tomorrow and I’ve already leave a letter of declination on one of the maid in the mansio–." I tried to explain but i was cut.

I was surprised when my grandmother slapped me hard right on my face before I can even finished what I was saying.I touched my cheeks, eyes wide opened,She never slapped me before.

"Say,” She asked her voice was shaking. “You wanna die?”

“I never said that.They want me dead.But i never said i wanted to die,granny,” I argued and she frowned.

“And what about Naya?You’ll drag her with you?” she asked slightly gritting her teeth,pointing her finger to Naya.

I was about to speak when i heard the chair squeak as Naya stood up,all our eyes on her.

"I–” she stuttered. “I’ll go too,”Naya said with such determination that almost match mine if only her voice weren’t shaking.

“Naya,no,”  I said rather calmly as I looked at Naya,creased forming between her eyebrows. “ Never,”

I turned my eyes to my grandmother as she sighed closing her eyes,while pinching the bridge of her nose,trying to calm herself

"I’m sorry,for causing you stress.” I bit my lip looking at her apologetically.“I just wanted to say goodbye to you personally at least before i leave." I paused then look at Naya who’s still standing,her fists curled tightly. “And as for Naya,I’m gonna leave her here in your house.” 

I know it will be the best for the both of them,since grandma’s not getting any younger,Naya can take care of her.Also, Naya needs someone to be with her.She can’t be alone.She hates it.

“You don’t understand,Elena." she said sniffing,"What i hate the most is..being left behind,”Naya said,tears running down her face,her voice shaking yet she spit those last two words venomously before she ran upstairs,leaving me and my grandmother in the dinning room.

My eyes widened and I froze not just because she called me in my real name for the second time this day,but because I realized something; I’ve hurt Naya. I will do the thing she hated the most.I will do the same thing those people in her past did to her.I will leave her.Will she hate me?I stand up from my seat and I was about to chase her when my grandmother stopped me on my tracks.

“You sit,”

I swallowed the invisible lump on my throat and patted Evo’s head before i whispered. “Evo. Go to Naya,okay?" I said smiling at my dog and he barked on agreement.

"Good boy," I patted him one last time before he run upstairs,my eyes followed my dog’s movement until I can’t see him anymore.I sat myself on the chair as my grandmother began to speak.

“Why?” she asked in almost inaudible voice,“Why can’t you just accept the order and live peacefully inside Sina just as what your mother told you?” I bit my lip,hanging my head low “Like me and your father want you to do?”

I stayed silent as she bombarded me with questions.

“Why do you have to be so stubborn?” She said her voice weak.“If you’re just doing this to avenge your mother’s death,then stop it.You don’t have to do that,honey,”

“Avenging my mother’s death is far from my real intention,granny.I wanted to do this because i wanted to help,” my eyes started to tear up as i started to remember her, “Just like my mother did,“

I admire my mother,Most of doctors declined working under Scouting Legion because they can’t offer them high income.But she chose to work under that Legion.There’s so many excellent doctors out there but they chose to work under the royalty.Under nobles.Only a few of them have the guts to work under this Legion,when in fact they’re the one who needs us the most.

“And I wanted to help not just as a doctor,but also,as a soldier”

She stared at my eyes as if she’s reaching out for my soul.And I stared at her eyes with my pair of hazel orbs full with determination.She sighed as if it’s the sign that she gave up.

"Did your dad know about this?”

My grandma asked but I didn’t answer,instead I just hang my head low.She clicked her tongue shaking her head.

“Did you even mentioned this plan to him?”

“I did,once.But he got angry,” I pouted.

“Who wouldn’t?Be thankful your dad didn’t slapped you like i did,”

“He almost,”

And I almost forgot about the slap tho.Now that my grandma mentioned it,I touched my cheek and I felt my cheek sting a bit.But I know the training will be more painful.

“But,I’m sorry.I just..” She trailed off, “I just don’t want to lost you the way i lost your mother.”She said and turned her head to the open window, looking at the sky. “My only daughter.”

I hummed.

“I know.I’m sorry too–”

“And I want you to know that I’m still against it.I just hope you’ll never regret this." She said with a quite yet sad voice.I give her a reassuring smile,hugging her.

"Nev–”

“Save it.I want you to say that to me one day.Not now,okay?” She said detaching herself from the hug and I nodded,“Promise me,”

 I smiled,as i brought my hand on the left part of my chest. “I promise.”

 “Now go upstairs and talk to Naya.”  she said smiling sadly.

—–

I knocked on the door before I opened it.There I see Naya on her bed,hugging Evo. She’s now on her nightwear. A white long sleeve duster that goes just below her knees with some ruffles on the collar.Some of the strands of her black waist length hair were covering her face.The only source of the light is the moon that can be seen through her windows, illuminating the dark room with its dim light.The curtain slightly swaying in the breeze entering her open window.I can hear some occasional sniffs which meant she’s still awake..and crying.I walked towards her bed and I sit on the edge, her back facing me. Evo stand up and walk towards me.I patted his head whispering a 'Thank you’ before I turned to Naya.

“Naya..” I called but she stayed silent.

I started humming a song,because I know it calms her.Music calms me too.We both like music so much.I play piano and she plays guitar.We usually spend time together composing music.To be honest most of the things we know,we learned them together.

“Back then we always learn things together.But now,” I trailed off. “It’s a bit different.We need to choose our path..of what would we like to be,”

“Bring me with you then,” She speaks all of a sudden.

I looked at her with a saddened expression in my eyes and she looked at me with her pained ones.I want her to do the thing that her heart desires.Not this.This is not what she wanted.I know she’s just doing this because of me.

She get up from her bed and shook her head before she looked at me.“Why is that you can to decide for yourself and you wont let me on my own.That’s unfair,Lady,” My expression softened as I heard her statement

"I can’t," I muttered with sadness lace on my voice.

"You can.You just don’t want to," She murmured before laying on her bed once again,but now ,covering her face with her blanket.

"If you will continue to deny my request,then please kindly leave the room,Lady.There’s nothing to talk about,”

That night I let Evo to stay on Naya’s room,instead of mine.

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

|6:30 am|

Morning came so fast.Silence engulf the whole surrounding. I’m now dressed and ready to go,I’m just waiting for the carriage that will fetch me to arrive.Naya on the other hand is still on her night ware.My grandmother look at the both of us,sipping her black coffee.

“I assume you two didn’t solve your problem,”

She said breaking the silence as she noticed the black circles below my eyes as well as Naya’s eyes.No one answered.Just another silence,It pains me that I will leave like this.We heard a loud knock on the front door.I looked at Naya then to my grandmother.Grandma gave me a small nod before I rushed to the front door,opening it as I saw a man standing outside holding a white paper to which I assumed was a sketch of me.He look at the paper then he looked at me while I get my luggage and carry it.I looked at him.He’s wearing a brown jacket,and a light blue shirt underneath,a white pants with straps and a leather boots.On his jacket an embroidered logo of a green unicorn.The infamous logo of Military Police Brigade.

“I came here under the King’s mighty order.I was sent here to deliver his words.Come with us.Don’t you dare escape, for i was given lawful authority to shoot and kill you if you dare.Don’t you dare refuse, for i had take you by force if y—,”

The man stopped when I walk passed him and get out of the house before he can even finished his sentence.He then grabbed my arm harshly and clicked his tongue.

“What a rude lady,”

I heard him said and I gritted my teeth,glaring at him as I tried to free my arm off his grasp by wiggling it violently.

“I won’t escape,goddammit.”

“Just to make sure,” he said without letting go of my arm.

“You have a gun,you could just shoot me if i dare,just as what you said earlier” i snarled.

“Unafraid,eh?” he chuckled but he didn’t let go of my arm.Squeezing it tighter instead,trying to intimidate me.I hissed,pained and irritated. “Anyway,” he trailed off “You’re not gonna say goodbye to them?” he said looking at the two women standing in the doorway of the house.

I gulped.I can’t get myself turn on my back,because if i will, i don’t know, I’ll probably break down,so i shook my head.

“Really?” he sounds amused,a devious smirk plastered on his face.  “Who knows,this might be the last time you’ll be able to see them,”  

I sighed closing my eyes.I won’t let my emotions control me.I can’t let that happen so I get inside the carriage with my luggage as fast as i can and the man closed the door almost instantly after he get inside with me.I looked through the window,there I see my grandmother and my sister. Both of them held a sad expression on their faces as I waved at them and smiled gently.Gently yet sadly.

“Whoa!”

The coachman yelled and the carriage began to move as the horse starts walking.That’s when I heard a bark.I peek through the windows and I saw Evo running after the carriage.

“Wait!" I shouted.

"What?" The man beside me asked, irritated.The coachman slowed down the horse.

"Evo,i mean my dog.Can i at least take him with me?”

“Are you trying to escape using your dog?” The man said chuckling,he then turned to the coachman.“Please go on.Ignore her.”

I frowned. And the carriage starts moving again.

“No!Of course not,”

“Sure." The man beside me scoffed. I was about to say something when he speaks.

"You will shut your mouth or else i’ll shoot your dog." He said showing me his gun.

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

Training Camp| Year 847 | 8:30 am

"Move faster,dipshit,”

I accidentally dropped my luggage on the ground as the MP pushed me off the carriage. I heard him clicked his tongue. I hissed picking up my luggage.I noticed that he’s still on the carriage.I frowned at him.

“Here," He throw a paper bag on me.I caught the bag and look what’s on the inside.

"That’s your uniform," He said and I nodded as he closed the door of the carriage.

"Wait,where are you going?” 

“My job here was already done,young lady,” 

“What?” I asked confuse and the carriage starts to move. “Wait!” I shouted, but it didn’t stop.

I feel uncomfortable and nervous at the same time as I looked around me.It’s been so long since I went outside without Naya and Evo around.There’s so many people here and,most of them are so young.Most of them are refugees.I sighed walking around trying to find a place where I can changed my clothes,but to no avail.This place was just too big and too unfamiliar.I don’t know where to go,and I’m completely lost.I’m really bad at this.

"Trainees,gathered together and form 10 lines 20 rows,Now!!” I heard someone shouted and i started to panic.

“Dammit!" I hissed.

I haven’t even put my uniform on,I’m still on my goddamned casual clothes for Pete’s sake.I saw some trainees running on a certain direction,I looked at the paper bag in my hands then on the running trainees,contemplating.Should I change my clothes first? or should I follow them and fall in the line as well?

Clicking my tongue, I followed them.While running,I noticed that all trainees are now on their uniform except me.Great.Just great.When everyone’s done on choosing their place in the line,a loud voice boomed that made everyone flinched and automatically straighten their bodies.

"Straight those pants,peasants!The hundred and fourth Cadet Corps boot camp starts now!Allow me to introduced myself,” he said as he stood straight in front of us, “I’m the former Commander Keith Shadis,and you will gonna hate me.Training is gonna be a white-knuckle ride through hell.If I’ve done my job you’ll be waking up in a cold sweat from memories of this place every night for the rest of your miserable lives.Right now you’re nothing,livestock.But over the next three soul-crashing years,you’ll learn to take down your own Goliath.Remember this moment when you come face to face with him cause here’s where you will ask yourself ’Am i a fighter or am i a food?’,'Am i gonna be ground up to a pulpy human breast wing boulder sized incisors or am i gonna be that one that bite?’”

He shouted with all force with such voice that will make anyone shit their pants.He then started to walk towards the trainees,examining their faces with a glare.

“Hey,mop-top!” He called and go in front of a certain blond boy.

“Sir!”The boy answered,standing straight placing his right hand on the left side of his chest and curling up his fingers,his other hand on his back.

“What did i’ll call you,maggot?”

“I’m Armin Arlert from Shiganshina,sir!" he said flinching slightly.

"Wow,seriously?Why would your parents cursed you with such a dumb name?”

“It was my grandfather,sir!!”

And just like that the former Commandant continued insulting the new recruits.One.by.one.

“What do you call yourself?”

“I am Marco Bott,sir.From Jinae,in Wall Rose’s Southern District,sir!I came to join the Military Police and pledge myself to the King!”

He said, wanting to sound so brave and lively but I can still feel the nervousness in his voice.

'Another one who wants to join the MP huh?’ I thought.

“Well then,that makes you an idealistic fool and a rube.You want the truth?The only use the King has for your life and limbs are titan fodder." The man said moving to the next target like nothing happened.

Things just got worse when he saw a certain bald boy saluted with his left hand instead with his right,the former Commandant grabbed his head and lifted him off the ground.I didn’t expected him to be this rough with the soldiers,especially with the new recruits.

"Listen up,Connie Springer!This was one of the first things you were taught,this salute means you’re offering your heart to the King and for humanity,Is your heart on the right side,shithead?”

He said before releasing the bald boy’s head.He turned his head on the next row.On my row.A girl eating potato caught his attention and I’m near her.

Her.Another Cadet.Me.

“Hey,you there,what do you think you’re doing?" He said walking towards to the girl.The girl looked on her both sides before she took another bite of her food.

"You are officially on my shitlist,Just who the hell are you?" The man shouted angrily.

Swallowing the food on her mouth quickly, she answered,"Sasha Blouse from Dauper,in Wall Rose’s Southern District at your service,reporting for duty,sir!" She said saluting the potato still in her hand.

"Sasha Blouse huh?And what is that you’re clutching in your right hand?" The man said in his low voice.Looking at the innocent steamed potato she’s clutching in her hand with a glare.

I don’t know if am i the only one who find this situation funny,I’ve been holding back a loud laugh ever since the conversation with the potato girl started.Looking around all i see are stiffened soldiers.I can say that the former Commandant did a great job on intimidating them.

"Why?I can’t comprehend,Why would you eat that potato?”The girl started to look confused.

“Are you asking me why people eat potatoes?I’m surprised you don’t know,sir.”

Everyone’s jaw dropped and eyeing her shockingly.Silence engulfed the surrounding and she halfheartedly took a small part of the potato,sighing.

“Here,sir.Have half." She said as she holds out the small part.

That’s when I accidentally let out a loud laugh.Realizing it,I automatically lowered my head and avert my eyes on the ground covering the half of my face as I heard footsteps coming closer.My heart thumping so loud.

"Who the hell are you?And what are you laughing for?” he stopped for a moment and i got nervous, “And why you’re not wearing your goddamned uniform,cadet!?”

He shouted,his voice sent chills down my spine. I placed my hand on the left side of my chest and the other at the back.I stood straight but my head still bent down.

“I couldn’t find a place where i can changed my clothes,sir!!”

I said,eyes still on the ground and my head lowering more and more by the seconds.Then there’s silence first before he answered.

“What a dumb piece of shit.Why the hell you’re looking at the ground,shithead?Lift up your head and look at your superior!!”

I flinched as he shouted louder than before.I’m surprised he haven’t recognized me..yet.“I will asked you once again.What is your name?!” 

Knuckles-white,I slowly lift my head up,gathering all my strength I speak loud and clear.He froze,staring at me.Shock etched his face as he recognized me.

"Elena Shadis,from Mitras,the innermost Capital inside Wall Sina,Sir.” I bit my inner cheek nervously as i heard audible gasps and whispering around me.Eyes still focus in front as the man,scrutinize me in astonishment.

“E-Elena?” he stuttered.Swallowing the invisible lump in my throat,I looked at him apologetically before i speak.

“Dad.”

-CHAPTER ONE END-

                                          To Be Continued...

                                  End Of the First Chapter

You can show your support by buying me a coffee:  https://www.buymeacoffee.com/mrnlsl

[planettaeil]

Title: The 7th Recruit

Title: The 7th Recruit Type: Smuttish (???) Agent!Ten AU Characters: Reader X Ten Warning(s): mild language, MENTION OF VIOLENCE! Word Count: 3, 417 (wow i got carried away)

A/N: I had so much fun writing this one 😄 I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!

Summary: There’s only one spot left. Are you gonna get it or is this dangerously handsome man gonna destroy you?

“I heard that they’re looking for the 7th recruit,” your roommate, Kim Doyoung, nonchalantly blurted out as he continued cleaning the sharp knives in his collection, carefully looking for any prints and meticulously wiping it with the cloth. You ran to the living room to where he was comfortably sitting and knelt down beside him.

“Holy shit are you talking about the The Gunpoint?” You couldn’t hide the excitement in your voice as you shook Doyoung’s arms, obviously too impatient to wait for an answer. In result, Doyoung accidentally cut his finger, in which resulted to him growling in pain, and you carefully unlatched your grip.

“Oops.”

With a glare, he drop the knife and went to the bathroom to get the kit. You followed him around, obviously too preoccupied to care about the small cut. “Come on, what about the recruitment?”

“Can you not? I worked so hard not to get another scar on my hand,” he immediately clean the cut and you rolled your eyes.

“Stop overreacting. You won’t die from that tiny scratch,” you sat beside him on the couch and took the golden knife and cloth to help him clean it. “But seriously what do you mean about The Gunpoint looking for the 7th recruit? I thought the examinations were over?”

“Oh, the examinations that you failed last month?” He teased with a smug look on his face and you fought the urge to smash his face in. It was true that you tried out for the examinations last month but unfortunately, you failed to succeed the last task and your dream of becoming an agent of the best secret agent group out there now looked like something you won’t ever achieve.

Their examinations in choosing seven new recruits were pretty intense for someone who just started from an unknown group like you. You knew it was such a big jump to apply at The Gunpoint when you barely started in a small group in your town but dreaming big won’t cost you anything. You knew you had to try and live the life you’ve been dreaming of since you were a child.

The Gunpoint is not your usual group that simply spies or threaten people whom their clients wants to scare. They only work for the biggest international organizations and even the government, and will do anything even if it involves killing someone involved in a serious crime.

Even though they do jobs that are out of this world, they only limit themselves into something that involves serious crimes and threats to the government or huge companies. They don’t do small favours for petty threats to innocent people.

“Are you gonna tell me what happened or should I punch you in the face?”

“Geez. You’re being so violent nowadays,” Doyoung faked a shudder and snatched his collection from you. “Not sure about the entire details tho but all I know is that the 7th recruit was a spy from the rival group. The boss was so furious when the 5th recruit found out and reported it to him but hey, at least he didn’t kill him.”

“Where’s the 7th recruit then?”

“I believe he’s in the interrogation room,” you nodded. Lucky bastard.

“And the head informed me that the 5 other applicants who didn’t succeed last time are given the chance to take the vacant spot. And as for you, you better prepare yourself for the new tests that you’re going to face again,” he flicked your forehead and stood up to go to his room.

You saw a knife that fell from his box earlier and a wild idea came to your mind. “Hey, Doyoung!” You called, throwing the knife to his direction, originally aiming for his head.

As expected, he was quick to dodge it and the sharp object hit the cemented wall and fell to the ground.

“Wow, you’re still fast! This is why you’re my role model!” You slowly clapped and he just rolled his eyes and left, completely not bothered by the fact that you just threw a knife to him.

Doyoung was the 3rd recruit from the previous batch and you practically looked up to him even though you both started at the same time in the same small group from your hometown. He managed to snaked his way to The Gunpoint a year ago and you were seriously so eager to enter it now that you’re given the chance to take it.

Collecting the small knife on the floor, a burning desire to get that 7th spot started to build inside you.

I’m gonna be the 7th recruit. I just know it.

~

The letter that you received earlier that day had not much written in it but you knew exactly what it meant.

To the 7th recruit,

Find Mr. Ten Chittaphon- code blue rose.

-TGP

That was pretty much it but it felt so fucking intense for a recruitment examination. You mentally, and physically prepared yourself for the examination. Looking at the black ink printed on the white paper, you couldn’t help but get excited how TGP (The Gunpoint) already called you the 7th recruit in their letter. It motivated you to do your job correctly, even though it involved almost killing this unknown man named Ten Chittaphon.

You were proud to say that you memorized every single Codes by TGP and according to the letter, they wanted you to track Ten and do whatever you want to get the details from this man and why he’s sabotaging the government even if you have to almost kill this man.

If it was Code Red Rose then you’re up to totally kill him.

After some intensive research, you found out that Ten Chittaphon usually hangs out in this high-end night club near the border, a place where celebrities and politicians hang out to stay clear from public’s eyes. It was known for being too exclusive and strict. You even asked Doyoung, or begged to be exact, to make you a fake ID so you could perfectly blend in. Apparently, it’s difficult for normal people to enter the said club so you had to create a new identity that would link you to a fictitious powerful backer.

Letting out a huge huff and fixing your hair to the side so that your bare shoulders would be perfectly displayed, you strutted your way inside, walking past the guys gawking at your figure like hungry preys. You were simply wearing your only short, tight black dress that perfectly hugged your curves matched with some killer heels to perfect the looks.

You weren’t in for some new fashion trends or anything like that but you certainly didn’t look like a hobo compared to these celebrities going in and out the club sporting nothing but branded clothes.

The ear-splitting music of a foreign song greeted you as the blinding neon lights illuminated the dark dance floor. You could practically see everyone either dancing their drunk ass out or dirty dancing along with the beat, artificial smoke fogging everyone’s view.

It was what made the club exciting but you reminded yourself that you were there to look for a man, and of course, win the 7th spot in TGP. You headed to the counter and ordered yourself some liquor, eyes starting to scan the crowd to find Ten Chittaphon.

Numerous guys approached you to ask for your name or buy you drink, and as much as you want to enjoy, you’re strictly here to focus on your assignment and move on before anyone else could take your spot. After a good 20 minutes of scanning through the foggy and dark room, you froze on your seat when you saw the familiar face of the man you ought to hunt sitting on the couch situated in the reserved booth.

It was as if he made himself available for you.

The strong gaze and pointed nose with his long, disheveled hair perfectly matched the photo given to you by TGP through Doyoung. You knew it was him and wasting your time was the last thing on your list.

Based on the information that you got from people about him, the only way to get on his good side is to offer him something.

You approached him with a curious look, eyeing his whole appearance, which unmistakably screamed wealth, charisma, and power, and thought about how you’re gonna lure him in. Thankfully, he was alone as he sitted comfortably on the leather couch and had a glass of liquor in his right hand to accompany him. His eyes moved to look at you, his body still not moving.

“You look lonely,” you commented, slowly and carefully sitting beside him, making sure to give him a glimpse of what was hidden behind your lacy bra.

“I was waiting for you to come to me,” he replied with a smug look on his face. You were almost surprised that he went along with your words.

He surely knew how to play the game and you readied yourself to level up. With a soft smile, you leaned forward and brushed your lips softly against his ear. “I hope I’m not too late.”

“You’re just in time for me, love,” he moved his head suddenly and had your lips almost touching his instead. He glanced at the dance floor behind you and smiled, the kind that anyone would fall for. “Wanna dance?”

“I would love to,” he stood up and grabbed your hand as you both weaved your way to the crowded dance floor. You were ecstatic at how easy it was for you to have him in your hands already and you had to give more to completely have him alone.

The EDM song came to an end when you were both in the middle and was replaced by a sensual one.

Right.

He immediately had both his hands wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him as the people around you did the same to their partners to perfectly feel the lyrics and beat of the music. He was like preventing other people from touching you and wanted you only for himself as he wrapped both arms around your waist.

You swayed your hips back and forth, making sure to brush it against his clothed member. You don’t know how you managed to act this bold but it’s probably the alcohol doing things for you. He seemed to enjoy it because he pulled you closer to him, his hands digging to your waist through your thin dress.

You turned around, your bare back against his chest, your arms stretching to wrapped it around his neck. You could feel his hot breath fanning against the crook of your neck, his lips hovering just a millimeter away from your skin. You both stayed like that, feeling the sensual beat as your mind raced to the thoughts of doing your task as soon as possible without being too obvious.

“What’s your name, darling?” He whispered, his lips slowly making its way to the back of your ear.

“Call me Rina,” you replied and bit back a laugh as a random assed name escaped from your mouth. You haven’t thought about your alias yet so maybe you’ll get an official one after passing the final examinations.

“Hmm…Rina. I like that name,” you turned around to face him again, your eyes level with his, arms still wrapped around his neck. “I’m Ten, but I’m sure you already know it.”

Oh, how I wish I could attack him right now and get done with my task, you thought.

“Everyone knows you here,” you commented, growing impatient about the whole thing. You just want to get things done as soon as possible, get the 7th spot, go home, and get a long ass sleep. You didn’t care much about how fucking hot and handsome he looked with his white long sleeve shirt and black pants, because passing the examination was your current priority.

But damn, this look should be illegal, you thought as you placed both your palms on his chest, your eyes hinting something that he surprisingly understood.

“Wanna go somewhere…private?”

Yes, finally!

“Got a place on your mind?”

“I think I do,” he replied.

The way to the place where he said would send you to paradise was too steamy to say the least. All you could remember was him lifting you up from your seat effortlessly like you weigh nothing and placed you in his lap in which you happily repositioned yourself so you were straddling him.

He was the one who initiated the kiss as he grabbed your head and captured your lips with his. The kiss was hot and so demanding you couldn’t even have the chance to catch your breath. You spent the entire ride in that position, obviously not caring about Ten’s driver looking at you both through the rear view mirror.

When you got inside Ten’s presidential suite, you wasted no time and unbuttoned his shirt as he carried you to his bedroom, your legs wrapped around his waist. His lips were still tasting yours with his hands roaming your bottom, making you almost forget what your true intentions were.

You had one of your hands tugging his soft, silky black hair to pull him even closer to you and taste the faint sweet minty flavor of his lips while the other struggled to open the remaining buttons.

He dropped you on his bed, his hooded eyes raking through your body like a hungry wolf. You took all your damn time watching him unbuttoning the last one and taking it off, exposing his milky skin and toned stomach. He crawled on top of you and rested both elbows on either side of your head, his lips immediately attacking your neck. Your hands went to his back, nails slowly digging through his skin as you desperately held onto him.

Focus, (Y/N). Focus!

You pulled away, both of you trying to catch your breath.

“God, you’re making me lose my control,” he whispered and showered your neck and collarbone with sloppy kisses.

“Would you like to…try something new?” You asked in between breaths, hands now tugging his hair. He was confused with your question, based on his looks, and you smiled.

“Do you have a necktie or something similar?” You continued. He chuckled as he just understood what you want to do with the necktie.

Well, the quickest and easiest plan you could think of right now is to seduce the shit out of Ten, tie both his hands together on the headboard and start your task. It’s basically very simple but contrary to your beliefs, he seemed to be a very easy man.

He smiled before getting up to open the drawer beside the king size bed and pulled out a dark green tie.

“I’m guessing you knew what I want to do,” you started as you took the necktie from him, a small yet mischievous smile present on your face. “Would you like me to proceed?”

He was studying your moves as he crawled back to the bed, his hands reaching for your thighs. “I haven’t done this before but I’m willing to try it with you,” he smirked, “Fuck, you’re making me do things I normally don’t like.”

You quietly pushed him so he was now lying on the bed, tying both his hands to the headboard. You made it extra hard to untie for obvious reasons, but made sure it isn’t too suspicious.

You ran your fingers through his chest down to his stomach, stopping right above the band of his pants. You then stood up and turned your back on him, leaving him cursing at the sudden absence of your touch. Slowly reaching for the strap of your heels made you look so dramatic and erotic but in reality, you were just trying to get the small knife from Doyoung’s collection that you hid in the strap wrapped around your thigh.

This is too easy, you smiled to yourself. You just honestly didn’t expect it to be this easy since you thought Ten would be smart enough to suspect your moves.

When you reached for your knife, you almost panicked when you felt nothing in your strap, your fingers carefully scanning your inner thigh just to make sure. Your eyes then slowly moved to scan the white tiled floor, hoping to find the small knife to get things done. You still had your back on him, in which you could feel his intense gaze on you, but you refused to turn around until you find the very weapon you’ll use.

You remembered feeling it under your dress when Ten’s fingers dug into your waist earlier, slowly making it way south but stopped right before he could slip his long, strangely soft hands under your dress. You remembered feeling the cold, sharp surface of the weapon as you swung your hips back and forth along his about an hour ago so you were confused as to where it might be.

You felt Ten getting impatient behind you as you could felt him moving his body against the sheet, and you bent down to take off your heels, taking all your damn time to scan the whole area without looking suspicious.

What the fuck, (Y/N)? Do you really have to be this clumsy?!

With your bare feet touching the cold ground, your fingers slowly reached for the zipper of your dress, eyes still scanning the floor. But right before you could completely take off your dress, you felt a cold and sharp object poking the skin of your throat in which a small move might cut you open.

The warm hands touched your shoulders for a few seconds, as if to tell you they are there, before quickly pulling you to their body knocking the air off your lungs. Your eyes widen at the sudden realize that the knife threatening to slit your throat was the one you were looking for- which also happened to be one of Doyoung’s favourite item.

He wrapped his left arm around you, with the other one holding the knife still threatening your throat.

“Game over, baby girl,” he whispered, hot breath fanning against your neck for the last time before he flipped you over so you’re on the bed and put on a cuff around your wrists behind you at an amazing speed.

You were too shock to say anything and all you did was roll your body so you were now facing him, and stared whoever the fuck he really was as he repositioned himself above you.

With the knife still against your skin he said, “You were too impatient that you made yourself so predictable,” he shook his head and ruffled his hair, making him look like he’s bored to death. “And you fucking suck at acting, you should consider getting a coach before you come to this field of work.”

Shit, so he knew about my plan?

The smirk on his face made you want to smash his face in with a brick but since you’re in such a painful position, wrists behind you with Ten’s weight stopping you from moving, all you could do is protest with your dirty language.

“Get your fucking body off me!”

“Tsk. You’ve got a nasty mouth for a beautiful face.”

“Fuck off!”

He just laughed at your weak attempt of wriggling your way out and you honestly thought it’s gonna be your last night. “And obviously, you miserably failed the final exam. That was probably the shittiest plan I’ve ever encounter in my whole life.” He stood up from the bed and walked to stand before you, hair disheveled and the shirt unbuttoned.

“Wait what?” You looked at him and sat up with the most baffled look ever. “Examination? Are you….are you talking about-”

“The 43rd Annual Recruitment of TGP, yes, and you miserably failed it.”

You felt absolutely humiliated that your cover was blown off and most importantly because that was supposed to be the most crucial part of being an agent.

Also, you failed the examination for the second fucking time.

“And who the fuck are you?” You asked through gritted teeth.

He studied the small knife for a few seconds before glancing at you with a smug look.

“I’m Ten, the 1st recruit.”

Oh shit.

I guess it was the best time for you to say goodbye to your dream of being an agent.