#tis okay cause i need to write bout it for school

[ethernitty]

h

hunchback of notre dame musical

love the music so much, its so nice with the big choir and all, the vocals are so nice except the finale thats an emotional rollercoaser

whoops may start hyperfixating on this

[crusty-chronicles]

For my request, can you write a oneshot featuring Leorio and a male reader with bondage and dub con please? In the story, Leorio answers an add asking for a bondage participant. The reader binds him and has him tied, gagged and orgasming for several hours without rest. You can decide on the intimate acts and how he'd be tied up. But ud like Leorio to be stripped naked and his mouth covered by a multilayered cloth gag. What do you think?

Med School Won't Pay for Itself

Leorio x Male Reader

An: Very Mature NSFW. Minors, hands and knees begging and crying, PLEASE DNI !!!!

Warnings: Bondage, overstimulation, Gagging, cum play, Dom reader, a sprinkle of orgasm denial, jack off, anal 😉

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

Leorio didn't know why he did it, but he knew it had something to do with his current lack of funds. That and it piqued his interest.

2 billion jenny just to be tied up for a night. A risky offer, buuuuut med school wasn't gonna pay for itself. Besides, what was the worst that could happen?

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

He was thoroughly surprised to say the least. Upon reaching the location and the door opening, he was met with a very charming young man.

"Heyo!" And then you'd looked him up and down.

"My gosh you're a tall one!"

A flush made it's way to the med student's face. So you were playful. He could work with playful. Maybe work the ol' Leorio charm.

"And you're a young one. I half expected you to be a creepy old dude."

You laughed at his jest.

"Yeah well my dad's upstairs waiting for you, so get to it."

And his face paled before you started laughing again.

"Kidding, kidding!" Your smile was teasing as you stuck out your hand. "I'm Y/n, the one you'll be spending the evening with. We'll take things slow if you want, cutie."

Your mischievous personality made it easier for him to relax. You didn't seem to take the circumstance all that seriously. You were just in it to have some fun.

And that was something he could respect.

So he supposed he'd have a little fun too. Why not enjoy himself while he was here.

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

First things first, you were good with your hands. Way too good. Leorio was taller than you, yes, but your hands were much bigger than his.

You'd led him to your room (which was actually pretty neat, unlike his disheveled study) and after conversing for a few more minutes, had started what would be the most memorable night in a long time.

Even though you were the one paying, you always stopped to ask if what you were doing was okay. Your playful nature temporarily replaced with softness.

And when you'd used your hand to tilt his face towards you, he just about combusted. Your eyes were lidded, and he didn't need a mirror to tell him his were the same. Feeling a little bold, he made the first move to kiss you.

You smiled into it and gently ran your hand through his hair. You were starting things off slow, weren't you? It was oddly sweet and had a certain effect on the med student.

Your tongue peaked into his mouth and he quickly granted you entrance. His glasses became askew as your tongues mingled with each other. You parted with one last suck to his wet muscle, causing a very audible moan from Leorio.

You gave a small snort.

"Hey! What's so funny!?!?" He pouted.

"You're just so cute when you're flustered." And then you removed his glasses, putting them somewhere safe for the time being.

"Don't call me cute at a time like this! It's a mood killer, you know!?!"

You glanced down at his stiffening member.

"Mood killer, huh?"

Leorio flushed a bright red.

"Shaddup!"

Your hand found its way to his tie and loosened it.

"What would you prefer me to call you? Hmm, how bout pretty boy?" His shirt joined yours on the ground.

"You're the pretty b-AH!" Before he could finish his retort, your hand was down his pants palming him.

Your palm was so big and warm. And it felt so very good against his now aching cock. Your movements were firm and calculated. Like you knew exactly what would get him to cum the fastest.

It was so much better than his own.

And he almost cried when you removed it.

"Wh-Why?"

You were shushing him as you undid the buttons of this pants.

"Gotta get these outta the way, Leorio."

He swore he died and went to heaven as soon as his name left your lips. His perverted mind already coming up with scenarios to have you moaning it out instead. Maybe wipe that teasing grin off your face too.

But when his leaky cock was exposed to cool air and immediately enveloped by your skilled hand, he just couldn't focus on anything else.

Not with the way you were stroking him from base to tip, smearing pre cum from the head of his cock and then back down again. The pace you set was steady and he was gripping your shoulders for dear life as he fucked into your hand.

He was sure the sounds he was making were downright sinful, but he just didn't care with how nicely you were jerking him.

Secondly, you were also very good with knots.

You stopped your ministrations against his cock for a moment.

"Bed or chair?" You asked.

And he was confused. Sexually frustrated, but confused.

"What? You can just stop touching me and expect an answer," He whined.

You rolled your eyes and tightened your grip, causing the future doctor to groan.

"Where do you want to be tied, dummy. On my bed or a chair? I'll let you choose since you've been such a good boy."

You were mean when you were horny, weren't you? It must've been hard for you with how your own member was straining against your slacks.

"Bed, I guess? Whatever gets you to fuck me faster."

Your laughter was back. A sound that was quickly becoming his favorite.

"Desperate aren't we, cutie? Remember the safe word: Rope."

"You're a cheesy bastard, you know that?"

You were smirking as you pushed him back against your sheets. From the nightstand you pulled out two silk ribbons.

"Yeah I'm cheesy, which is why I'm gonna wrap you like a present for me. A cute little gift for me to open."

Your words sent a jolt of pleasure through his body. So even though he hated it when you called him cute, he let you bind both of his wrists to your headboard. The fabric was soft against his skin.

Good at least he'd be comfortable.

"Gonna leave these legs free just in case, kay cutie?"

Leorio sent you a halfhearted glare.

Yet again before he could reprimand you, you already had his cock in your hand. He jolted at your quick pace.

He was already so close, and if you kept at it he might just cum all over your palm. Which didn't seem like a bad idea the way your lidded eyes looked down at him.

Like you wanted to eat him up.

Would you?

The thought alone had him cumming hard, much to your surprise.

Your strokes slowed to a light pump. You observed as the man before you came undone with very loud moans and gasps. Warm stickiness coating your hand.

He gave a few feeble thrusts up, ridding out his high before you finally pulled away. He stared up at you through hazy eyes.

"You're too loud when you cum." Your statement snapping Leorio out of his trance.

"Wh-what?"

"Gonna need you to be a little quieter." Another ribbon at the ready, you started to gag his mouth.

"This should help. Let me know if it's too much for you, Leorio."

And you wrapped your hand around him again, starting up a fast pace that had him whining into the gag.

It was too soon, and too sudden. The feeling too much after just cumming. But he couldn't help getting hard again, especially when you actually used his name.

He'd be sure to make you scream it when this was over.

For now, he was trying to thrust into and away from the harshness of your strokes. The overwhelming pleasure causing a knot to form in his stomach and his cock to twitch.

"Feel good, cutie? Gonna cum for me again?"

You stopped your movements when he didn't answer.

"C'mon, don't be shy. You won't cum until I get an answer."

You were such a goddamn tease. Luckily for you, Leorio was quite shameless.

"Annah hum ahagnn!"

Your playful grin was back.

"You do? Well let's get you there then."

The previous remnant of his orgasm made it easier to jerk him faster. Then you gripped his base tightly and blew on the head.

Spurts of hot cum once again covered your hand.

"Such a messy one. My poor sheets are ruined."

Leorio was so fucked out by now that he didn't notice your pout. But he did notice when you removed your hand. Your warmth leaving with it.

Thirdly, you were so damn good with your mouth.

His eyebrows knitted in confusion, though he wasn't focused enough to process the sight in front of him.

You were licking your cum stained hand, making sure to get every last drop.

"I think I'll have a proper taste now. You don't mind, do you?"

You had to snap your fingers in front of him to get his attention.

"Mph," and a shake of the head let you know he was still present enough to continue.

"What a good boy you're being!"

Your words of praise making his cock stand at attention again. Aww, he liked to be praised. He really was such a cutie.

You shuffled down his body until your face lined up with his surprisingly still hard member. He was a decent size and if you tried hard enough, you'd be able to completely take him. Both ways that is.

"Messy boy, you've still got cum all over your cock." You chastised before sucking on his head. A very loud whine was heard from above you.

"Hensithive!" You let go with a 'pop' before lidded eyes met his.

"Is it now? Don't tell me you can't take it. C'mon pretty boy, You can do it. You can give me another one."

He didn't think he could until you opened up that mouth of yours. And damnit all if he didn't want that snarky mouth back on him. Stuff it full with him so you would stop being such a tease.

He struggled harshly against the binds, trying to get at least one hand free to shove you further down his shaft.

You eyed him with mischief and quickly took all of him down your throat. You almost laughed around him hearing his high pitched, muffled moans.

You moved back up to the tip and swirled your tongue around, gathering up the pre that leaked out. Your own cock throbbed painfully in your pants. You'd been ignoring it for so long it was starting to hurt. Slowly, you reached down to palm yourself. Moving your hand the same pace you bobbed your head. It was proving futile for relief.

Maybe after you finished sucking him off, you could have a little fun for yourself.

Yeah, you'd do just that. But first things first, you were gonna make this man cum hard onto your tongue.

You stopped palming yourself and opted for toying with his balls instead. His scream was muffled and he gave a few more sharp thrust into your mouth before cumming again.

"thoo hood!" His legs were shaking from the pleasure as he filled your mouth with his taste.

As a treat for yourself, you swallowed every last drop of his release. More loud whines filled the air as you gave one final suck to his cock before pulling off.

A thin sheet of sweat covered his body.

You hoped you weren't working him too hard. He hadn't used the safe word after all.

"As much as I'd like to keep tasting you, I think it's time I have some fun myself."

You only got a groan as a response. You wouldn't reprimand him for that one, he had been such a good boy for you.

You shimmied out of your pants and boxers, your painfully hard erection free at last.

At this point, Leorio was too fucked out to care anymore. His head was fuzzy and numb with pleasure. And still... your charming tone always seemed to snap him out of it.

"Look at me pretty boy, I'm gonna ride you, okay? Hope I don't break you."

He struggled to meet your lidded eyes, but he got as far as your teasing smile before he gave up.

You did your best to work him inside your hole. His cum making it easier for him to slip inside your ass. The sudden tightness regaining his focus.

What a night he was having. He'd spent the better half of his night cumming like hell. And now he was about to be used like a fuck toy. He definitely made the right call answering your ad.

And god damnit if you didn't look soo good ridding his cock. Face flushed with moans spilling from your lips. Your own cock, red and desperate for release. If he wasn't tied down, he just might've used his mouth to get you off. But he wasn't complaining about the view, not one bit.

Especially when you fisted your fat dick with your hand and started stroking. Dribbles of pre leaking down and onto his stomach.

He could tell you were close, your pace desperate and your hand moving at a furious pace.

He wanted to cum with you. He wanted to give you one more. Just one. Even though his own member was sore from the various orgasms before. He wanted to be your good boy.

His eyes met yours and you flashed him one last wolfish smile.

"Gonna make a mess on you. I'll clean up, don't worry cutie."

And he came so hard, he saw white. You and that damn nickname and pushed him over the edge. The warmth spreading inside you had your strokes stuttering. With one last pump to your own shaft, you came on his stomach.

You stilled your movements for a moment to catch your breath. The man below you was completely mussed. Eyes still rolled to the back of his head, mouth wide open under the gag.

He was soft as you lifted yourself off him, a trail of cum leaking from your hole.

Perhaps he's had enough.

You reached up and undid the ribbons binding him.

His free hands quickly gripped at your waist and flipped you over, stomach face down on your bed.

Or perhaps he hadn't.

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An: 🫣🫣🫣🫣 hope I did okay 😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️😶‍🌫️

[free-pancakes]

Kiss the Drummer

Summary: a LeviHan Jazz!AU

Levi, a talented trumpet player famous in the jazz clubs of New York, is struggling with his instrument and feels burnt out—he wonders if he chose the right path in life.

The bassist of his quintet, an old friend named Erwin, invites a quirky new drummer to play with them, who brings a new spark into Levi’s life.

Notes:  Drum "chops” describe a drummer's technical ability, including a large vocabulary of licks, and how freely they express themselves on the instrument. BPM = beats per minute Songs: Giant Steps - John Coltrane

sorry this AU fic is pure self-indulgence and has become much longer than originally intended lol

crossposted to AO3

CHAPTER 1

He licked his lips and pushed them readily against the smooth, silver mouthpiece, ready to hit the first note of the song, Giant Steps. He suppressed his desire to grumble at yet another fast swing tune.

He stared out into the audience, peering at the people sitting around the tables of the club. Their faces were slightly lit from the reflection of the stage lights, wearing expressions of both excitement and anticipation. “Just another night of the same old thing,” Levi thought to himself, letting out a soft, exasperated sigh, one only he could hear. His stance conveyed confidence, but his eyes spelled apathy.

He heard snaps on 2 and 4 marking their starting tempo at 289 bpm and Levi quickly puffed warm air into his trumpet.

“One… two… one two three four—“

——

Levi wiped down his trumpet, carefully cleaning the beautiful brass after yet another great performance. He gently placed it in his case, and looked up at himself in the dressing room mirror. He stared blankly at his reflection, noting the tinge of purple beneath his eyes—he knew his body was aching for sleep. It had been restless upon restless night for the past year or so, and he wasn’t completely sure why. He looked down at his trumpet case with both affection and disdain. Maybe... he just wasn’t meant to do this for this long.

He didn’t hate playing, but the truth was, he had simply been good at it all of his life. Quite gifted at it, one would say, and thus he passively let it lead him to success. It was just what it was. He was good at jazz, he was good at trumpet. Naturally he studied it at a top university for jazz performance and joined this famous quintet, and naturally he worked hard to improve his skills. But as any routine would, practice and rehearsals became monotonous, grunt work.

While lost in thought, his eyes trailed over to his small, neat pile of math textbooks at the edge of the dresser.

If anything, he did enjoy jazz theory. It was just math, anyway—circle of fifths, cadence patterns, fancy scales—it all just added up and broke down for any message or feeling you wanted to convey with a melody for your solo, and those tools were simply available in your brain to make it happen—tools to play some straight dirty solos that make you smirk satisfactorily when listening. To Levi, it just made sense, to a lot of other people, he was called “genius”. But after years and years of this, he was burning out and he was quite aware of that. He felt like he was losing his edge, and he was just a machine clunking out music most nights of the week. Again he thought, maybe he just wasn’t meant to do this forever. But what else would pay the bills?

Shaking his head, he let his jumbled thoughts fall away momentarily. He picked up a textbook, and leafed through the pages. He clicked open a ballpoint pen and began adding to his lesson plan for one of his students, a young girl named Sasha. Honestly, she seemed utterly hopeless with math at times, but he was determined to help her at least pass her algebra class. Her little friend Connie on the other hand…well that’s a story for another day, he thought, and chuckled softly to himself. If anything, he did enjoy his side job as a math tutor for the local school system. He didn’t really need the extra pocket money, but something compelled him to keep up with it.

As he jotted down notes, muffled noise of cheering and commotion rocked against the door. Tonight’s gig was Nile’s last performance with them, as he was moving out to the west coast to play with another group and accept a teaching position somewhere out there. Levi didn’t care much for his drumming or his personality for that matter, so he wasn’t particularly sad to see him go, nor was he keen on joining the celebration out in the bar. He yawned and continued finish up writing his lesson plan, as he knew he’d probably have to drive his drunk colleagues home.

——

“Levi! I’m gonna miss you buddy!” Nile exclaimed as he aggressively ruffled Levi’s hair, causing the cowlick he spent every morning trying to gel down to stick straight up embarrassingly at the top of his head. “Yeah, yeah, yeah… good luck Nile.” He shoved him and Mike into a cab, as they lived in the same apartment complex. He turned back into the bar to Erwin smiling drunkenly and Nanaba knocked out cold, sleeping soundly as she sat with her head down on a table. Levi grumbled and picked up Nanaba’s saxophone case to haul into the trunk of his car. He returned to pick up Nanaba and carried her on his back, and Erwin walked with them to Levi’s car.

“Hey Levi, Our new drummer is flying in tomorrow. I told her I’d come and pick her up from the airport at 7am.”

Levi looked Erwin up and down with a look of disgust. “In that sorry state, Eyebrows? Tch, go sleep off the hangover tonight, I can go to the airport. What’s her name and what does she look like?”

“Her name’s Hange. She has messy brown hair usually worn up in a ponytail, wears tortoise clubmaster glasses and well… honestly you can’t miss her, I’m sure you’ll find her right away.”

“Okay. So why’d we need to bring in a completely new drummer anyway? Couldn’t we have just brought in Moblit?”

“Ah you know his style doesn’t fit ours as well, plus he’s doing well with his band right now. Don’t worry, Hange and I played together all 4 years of college together, she’s got chops. Plus, I think Hange will probably bring in the change we need. Your playing’s gone a bit stale... hasn’t it, Levi?”

“Stale?! Pfft you’re just drunk,” Levi muttered, irritated as Erwin raised his eyebrows at him. They arrived at their apartment complex and Levi begrudgingly unlocked the car doors, gently woke Nanaba, and the three of them walked up to their floor. Erwin fumbled with his keys, and Levi snatched it out of his hands, frustrated at how long it was taking him. Erwin chuckled, and Levi scrunched up his nose at the stench of alcohol in his breath. As soon as the door opened, Nanaba immediately ran to the bathroom, retching into the toilet.

“I got her,” Erwin laughed. “Go to bed, Levi, you’re the one getting up early. Flight info’s next to the door.”

Levi nodded, turned into his room, and plopped down on the bed. He stared at the ceiling, and wondered how much longer he’d keep playing, or more like, how soon he’d quit. If this Hange person was as annoying as Nile, well… he probably wouldn’t hold out much longer.

——

Levi stood with his hands in his pockets, eyes peeled for this Hange person. He looked at his watch—“Maybe she was still waiting on her luggage,” he thought. He walked over to the small cafe to his left, and waited in line, squinting for any decent teas on the menu. Before he could decide, he suddenly heard a small yelp, and something shoved right into his chest, feeling piping hot coffee running down his white, longsleeve shirt. Before he could yell obscenities at the moron who just ruined one of his favorite shirts, he was met with frantic apologizes.

“I’m so so sorry! Oh my goodness it was a complete accident, can I get you a drink to make up for it? Man I am so clumsy...oh! Maybe you can wear one of my shirts I have here, free of charge! Or I could just—“

He looked up in the middle of incessant rambling to see the culprit—a tall brunette, hair messily tied up in a bun, wearing tortoise clubmaster glasses, and a bright yellow coat.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Levi thought to himself. He looked down to see a large black cymbal case and a stick bag with yarn mallets and drumsticks poking out of it.

—I could just buy you a new shirt! Oh, how bout—“

Levi was livid—this clown was potentially going to be playing gigs with them over the next year? The coffee stained fabric was sticking uncomfortably to his skin and he felt the biggest headache coming on—all this pain just from one person. He reached up and gently placed his hand over her mouth to physically stop her chattering.

“Is your name, Hange?”

She nodded, Levi’s hand still covering her mouth.

“You’re Erwin’s friend?”

She nodded again, her eyes lighting up at the name, Levi feeling her lips forming a smile under his palm.

“Okay, I’m taking you back to our apartment.”

Levi reached for her bags to carry them, but was interrupted.

“Wait—the least I can do is give you the extra shirt I have in my backpack so you can change out of your soiled one,” she said softly. She reached in her bag, and pulled out the shirt and Levi felt his eye twitch in annoyance at the words printed on its front. He sighed, and debated sitting in his wet shirt, but it seemed like he didn’t have much choice—he’d have to wear it.

——

Levi blinked his eyes open. He felt oddly rested, but one thing was strange—he was sitting up, and he felt something unusually heavy on his shoulder.

“What the—“

He looked to the side and saw a mess of brown hair immediately to his right, heard the soft sound of snoring, and felt… something wet on his arm? He looked down and grimaced. “Drool. She’s drooling. On my goddamn arm.”

He looked around for some kind of napkin. He didn’t remember falling asleep, let alone letting this absolute stranger curl up against him. How in the world did he let his guard down this far?

He stared blankly at Hange and thought, “What a mess—what was Erwin thinking? We’ve known each other for less than 5 hours, and she seems to have already made herself right at home. I haven’t even confirmed whether she was good enough to play with us, yet.” He tried to shift out from underneath Hange, but before he could wriggle is way out—

“Kiss the drummer?”

Erwin and Nanaba stood before Levi, both with hair in a complete mess, having just woken up from sleeping off their hangovers. Smirking and holding back laughter, they stared at the scene—Levi wearing an oversized t-shirt with the words “Kiss the Drummer” in bold letters plastered across his chest, along with Hange sleeping quite cozily on his shoulder, her glasses held gently between his fingers. Levi tried covering up the words and scowled at his two friends.

“Laugh it up,” he muttered. “What is this, Erwin? She’s clearly made herself at home already—and we haven’t even gotten to play together yet.”

“Relax, Levi, she’s a great musician. And look, she likes you!”

Levi grimaced at Hange draped over his shoulder.

“Hmph, I still have to hear her play and have my opinion considered. We all get a vote yknow…”

Over their hushed voices, Hange shifted groggily towards all of them and rubbed her eyes. “Erwin?”

Hange’s eyes lit up immediately in recognition, shoving Levi back further into the couch as she jumped up to wrap Erwin in her embrace, excited to finally be reunited with her friend after so many years.

After a few minutes of catching up, Erwin smiled brightly. “Yes, we can take you around the city a bit. Rehearsal’s not til this evening anyway—we did have a gig lined up last minute for the middle of this week if you were comfortable with that, Hange.”

“Of course I’d be down to do that! I—“

“Oi. Like I said, we still vote if you get to play with our group officially. Don’t be late to rehearsal tonight.” Levi then slowly stood up and walked quietly towards his room.

“Don’t mind him, he’s just being strict about our technical audition policy,’ Erwin reassured. He and Nanaba quickly darted for their rooms to ready themselves to take Hange sightseeing for a little while and introduce her to the city, leaving her standing alone in the middle of their living room. Her eyes trailed after Levi, curious about his calm yet sad energy. She felt that she saw through that aura, noticing every little kind gesture he made towards her from the time they met at the airport to the moment they fell asleep on the couch. Hange was determined to get him to show that side of himself a little more. As he turned to grab the door behind him, she smiled at him, and was quickly met with a scowl and the slam of his bedroom door in her face. Seemed it might take some more effort to get through to him than she originally thought.

[violetwolfraven]

belmerttons?

*panicked singing* it’s after midnight and I can’t fucking sleep so of course I’m writing!!! I have school tomorrow and I’m gonna die!!!

This is gonna be my first time writing this ship as the main focus of a fic, so we’ll see how it goes, I guess. I’m gonna need to figure out how I want to portray their dynamic.

Tw: head injury, referenced child neglect

...

“Ya can’t keep doin’ stuff like this,” Buttons mumbled, “You’re gonna get yourself killed.”

Elmer winced as the other boy tied off the bandage around his head definitely harder than necessary.

His head was already pounding, and seeing Buttons—who barely even pranked back in prank wars even when Race really deserved it—angry wasn’t helping. Especially since he wasn’t quite sure why he was so angry at him.

“We all knew what could happen with the strike.”

“That ain’t what I’m talkin’ ‘bout,” Buttons muttered as he crouched down to start checking out Elmer’s bruised knuckles, “You think I didn’t see ya jump between that thug and Smalls? He had a club, El. He coulda killed you.”

“And if I didn’t jump in, he coulda killed Smalls,” Elmer argued, “What was I supposed to do, huh? She’s a lot smaller than—ow!”

“Sorry.”

Buttons didn’t sound sorry, but he did unwrap the bandage, winding it looser the next time.

“This is what you always do,” he grumbled, “Get hurt defendin’ other people, then I gotta patch you up. What’re ya gonna do when we ain’t Newsies no more and ya can’t come to me anymore, El?”

Elmer shrugged, still annoyed, “I dunno, but what do you want me to do, Buttons? Scab like Sniper, Tommy, and Blink?”

“No.”

“Then what’s the problem? Everyone else is hurt, too! Jack gets soaked fightin’ opponent’s he can’t handle every other month and ya don’t care!”

“I never said I don’t—“

“Oh, so it’s better that the only one ya call on it is me?”

“You have a family, El!” Buttons exclaimed, standing up suddenly, “For Christ’s sake, ya act like you’s the same as everyone else here, but ya ain’t! What would your family do if you didn’t come home, huh? Who’d have to go tell ‘em?”

Elmer was stunned, “Buttons—“

“Me,” Buttons growled, “Jack’s missin’, so it’d be me. I’m the only other one who knows where your family lives.”

Elmer recovered from the shock and promptly got angry again.

“You have a family, too, and I didn’t see you bein’ careful.”

Buttons snorted, “Then you wasn’t payin’ attention.”

Elmer really wished he could say he had been.

In truth, he’d been a bit preoccupied trying to keep that thug distracted long enough for Smalls to escape, then keeping said thug from killing him. After that, everything was kind of hazy until apparently, Davey found him passed out in an alleyway.

He hadn’t been paying attention to where his friend was at all.

“El...” Buttons made a frustrated noise, “You always gotta fight for everyone—and that’s a good thing—it means ya got a big heart, but... I’m serious. Since nothin’ else has made ya listen: what would your family do if you didn’t come home?”

Elmer snorted. He was a little mixed up in the head right now, but he very clearly knew the answer to that one.

“They’s got 8 other children, don’t they?”

“El...”

“Nah,” Elmer chuckled, even though he was pretty sure this wouldn’t be funny under normal circumstances, “I’m just the youngest and smallest. It ain’t like I bring in that much income. And ‘sides, nobody pays attention to me ‘cause I’m the stupid one.”

“Elmer, you ain’t stupid.”

“My big sister spent years tryin’ to teach me to read, but I couldn’t. Polish or English. I just can’t pick it up. It takes me hours to get through a article if I feel like tryin’. Why do ya think Jack reads headlines out loud most mornin’s?”

Dimly, Elmer registered the thought that he’d never told anyone that he couldn’t read, that letters on a page didn’t stay still for him. Jack was the only one who knew, and that was because he’d guessed after Elmer asked the headline several days in a row. Apparently, there’d been boys like him before.

Buttons shrugged, “That don’t make ya stupid. You’s good enough at math to make up for it, anyway, and even if ya can’t read it, you speak two languages. What makes ya stupid is pickin’ fights you can’t handle, constantly.”

Elmer groaned. This again? He thought they’d already covered this.

“My family wouldn’t miss me if I didn’t come home, Buttons, so—“

“And what about everyone else?” Buttons interrupted, “El, maybe your family wouldn’t, but what about Jojo? What about Race, huh? What about me?”

Elmer shrugged, “You wouldn’t have to patch me up anymore.”

He stood up, but it was definitely too fast as purple spots swam before his eyes.

“Oh, shit...”

Buttons tried to catch him as he collapsed, but that just ended in both of them hitting the floor.

“Sorry,” Elmer mumbled against his friend’s chest. He was really tired.

“Nothin’ to be sorry for,” Buttons muttered, and Elmer felt him sigh, “I just... don’t see how ya don’t see it.”

“See what?”

Being curious was helping him want to stay awake.

“Y’know how it is when Crutchie smiles?” Buttons asked quietly, “Really smiles. Not when he’s bein’ sarcastic.”

Elmer nodded, then winced as he regretted it, “It’s like someone lit a candle in the dark.”

“Yeah. That’s how it is.”

Buttons was silent for a second, and Elmer wondered if he was asleep, and they were just going to take a nap on the floor.

“Yours is like that, only... God, Elmer, it’s like someone put the goddamn sun in your smile.”

Elmer was processing things pretty slowly right now, but he was pretty sure he’d be confused even if he wasn’t.

“What?”

“It’s amazing,” Buttons whispered, “It’s like a minute of summer in the middle of winter, but better. It makes everybody else want to smile, too. I wish I could show you, but mine don’t do that.”

“Sure it does,” Elmer mumbled, “I like your smile.”

“Thanks, but it’s not like yours.”

“Your smile is like...” Elmer tried to think through his headache, “Like when the trees start gettin’ green again in spring. I ain’t much good with words, but it’s that.”

Buttons was silent for a second, and when Elmer looked up, he was... he was a little red in the face.

They both sat up, but stayed on the floor.

Elmer was a little surprised when Buttons’s hand found his, but it felt right, so he didn’t pull away.

“How would you feel if ya never saw my smile again, El?”

He frowned, “I don’t wanna imagine it.”

“Okay, well...” Buttons sighed, “I don’t wanna imagine not seein’ your smile, either. So if ya won’t be careful for yourself or your family... do it for me?”

Elmer’s thoughts were still a bit fuzzy, but he was pretty sure he had a grasp of what was going on.

He’d been a newsie since he was 10, and he’d noticed how the older boys usually started getting interested in girls around 13 or 14.

Or, some of them started getting interested in boys. Which, as Manhattan’s old leader had explained it, was dangerous but natural, even if they had to keep it a secret.

Elmer was 15, now, and Buttons was the same age. He was just now realizing that as his friends’ eyes started getting drawn to girls or boys on the street, or each other, in more than a couple cases, he’d never really focused on anyone besides Buttons.

There was a weird feeling in his stomach, but not like he was going to throw up. It was more like... butterflies.

Elmer has done some pretty dumb things—mostly at the encouragement of friends—over the years, but he wasn’t stupid enough not to recognize what he was feeling, and...

Well, he wasn’t sure, but the look in Buttons’s eyes looked almost like how Blink looked at Mush and Jojo looked at Mike.

But he was kind of loopy right now, and not sure enough to act on it.

“I’ll try to be careful. For you.”

Buttons smiled, “Thanks. Next time you’re about to do somethin’ stupid, consider how you’d feel if it was me doin’ it.”

That was actually a good point.

“Uh, Buttons?”

Buttons stopped on the way out the door of the washroom, “Yeah?”

“Thanks for always patchin’ me up.”

“No problem, El.”

[kenmas-consoles]

Haikyuu Band AU

Singer! Akaashi x Reader

Akaashi was sat under a tree located a good few miles away from main campus, the boy had a guitar tucked under his arm and a worn out looking notebook and pen. Paper was scattered around him as he frustratedly crossed over what he had written down and scrapped the page right out of the book.

The dark haired boy sighed at the failed attempt to write song lyrics. He leaned against the tree and brought up his notebook and rested it on his face while his hands tapped a made up beat he’s been stuck working with for almost a month now on his guitar.

He was uninspired.

The boy had laid there motionless for half an hour, other students who were in the area just glanced over his figure with disinterest and assumed that the kid probably was either:

a. Dead

b. Wished he was dead

c. Really really drunk

All of which Akaashi believed to be a better option than to be creative blocked.

-

“I thought I’d find you here.”

At the sound of the voice, Akaashi tipped his head lower to allow the notebook to slide off his face, “Did you need anything from me Bokuto-san?”

"Nothing in particular, you seem to be working hard these past few days. I just wanted to see if you were well and alive. . . or drunk and dead like what the others keep saying."

Akaashi ignored the latter comment and said, "I wouldn't be if either you or Kuroo actually did any work for the band," with a sharp look. Bokuto put both his hands up in defense at the look their lead singer gave him.

"Well, Kuroo did in fact get some work done. . . He booked us a gig at next weekend and--

Akaashi rolled his eyes at the drummer's antics, except in the midst of doing so something had caught his attention as he felt a gust of wind pass him by. He turned to his left, feeling everything slow down, until it all came to a full stop. Except for this one girl, hair tied loose pigtails, ripped jeans in her pants, and a camera in hand. She was smiling ridiculously widely while instructing her companion to do various poses all in which she had acted out. She was weird but he felt naturally drawn in.

"--Hey, Hey, HEYYY, AGHAASSHII! Pay attention." Bokuto whines to the green eyed singer, mumbling how he was going to text Kuroo and ask him more details bout the gig and that he should do the same.

"Sorry, thought I saw something. . ." Akaashi muttered while shaking his head, moving his gaze away from the girl to the bi-colored hair male that sat next to him.

"It's okay as I was saying, Kuroo got us this gig at a club, yknow down town Tokyo? It's at 9pm don't be late. Also, Kenma got a deal with a corporate sponsor and Kuroo got us to perform for them at the end of June and that's in two months and apparently a lot of music sponsors and record labels are attending, so it could be our big break. Got it? Okay." Bokuto said all while patting himself down as he stood up from his spot. Bokuto then had winked at Akaashi, "Also, that girl's name is (Y/n), she's in the Arts Department, she's in the cheer team and we're the same Creative Writing Class."

Bokuto soon then left the boy who just continued to spend his whole afternoon and free period staring at the girl.

Ever since he saw her that one time by the hill, he's been seeing her a lot more. Be it by the school entrance, the lockers, or even the cafeteria, and it wasn't exactly a bad thing. He didn't exactly know much about the girl except for what Bokuto had already told him, he did ask around but that wasn't exactly getting him anywhere.

He had got the feeling you weren't exactly popular, or stood out much, he honestly didn't really expect it out of someone who is 'All that' as Bokuto put it, he even questioned if you were the same girl Bokuto knows.

'Not by a longshot' he had thought.

Although her face can be easily lost in a crowd, it was unmistakable.

That smile is unmistakable.

"She's all that, huh?" he quietly said to himself as he flipped open his notebook and quickly bit the cap out of his pen as he frivolously wrote down in his book.

'She's all that'

Tapping his pen and nodding his to the beat of the melody he's been working on. A lunch tray had placed itself across the table Akaashi had been occupying. The boy paid no mind to it as he was too absorbed in the sudden but not unwanted burst of inspiration to even take notice. The person had then cleared their throat to make their presence known, "Do you mind if I sit here? Everywhere else is full." the girl lied.

Akaashi stared a while before coughing to his fist mumbling an apology while gesturing towards the seat infront of him almost as if to say 'take a seat.'

Akaashi then pretended to pay no mind to the girl infront of him as he kept his head down and eyes locked on his notebook. The girl found it amusing and giggled a bit at this.

It was kind of an obvious lie as the cafeteria was barely even halfway full. The girl wasn't stupid or oblivious to his stares or his attempt to find out more about her as she'd seen him question a few people from her department. She was just as curious and intrigued of him as he was of her.

"What are you working on?"

The question kind of threw him off guard as he accidentally knocked over his pen, "I-uh, It's a song." he replied briefly making eye contact before looking down again.

"I take it you're part of a band then?"

"I-, yes actually."

"Cool."

"Would you like to-uhm yknow watch a gig sometime?"

"Yeah, thatd be great."

Akaashi and (Y/n) locked eyes at that moment, and in that moment it felt like they've known nothing more but each other and that was the start of their weird friendship.

Akaashi had invited her to their show that weekend to which he found out was (Y/n)'s first time watching a gig and he's been taking her out every weekend to watch their shows. They've grown significantly closer the past month and he was slowly seeing nothing else but her. She was intoxicating and he was sure that the feeling he had for her was something more. Maybe he was beeing hasty in calling this feeling love but, he didn't know, all he did know was that he had infact already written a song abour her, one that he wanted her so badly to hear.

"I guess I'll see you tomorrow Akaashi." (Y/n) said, turning and walking away.

"W-wait!" Akaashi yelled, cursing himself for stuttering, "I was wondering if. . . you would want to come to see me perform this Friday? The square, Tokyo, 10pm. Sound good?"

The girl tried to put on a straight face but couldn't help but bite back a smile. "We'll see, good night Akaashi." She said turning around to leave. Akaashi had silently cheered himself and fistpumped as he himself turned around to walk home.

★彡★彡★彡

It's 10:17 and you weren't here yet, and it made Akaashi much more anxious.

"You sure she's coming?" Bokuto teased, "Ofcourse she would, she'd get shit from your fanclub if she didn't."

"Shut up, I do not have a fanclub."

Kuroo made his way towards the two while plugging uo his bass. He whistled, "Full house out there." Akaashi then peered his head at the crowd of jamming teens and corporate sponsors. A girl comes out from the curtains, motioning that they should get on stage now.

Akaashi sighed, he closed his eyes as the music started and Bokuto clapping his drum sticks.

I'm in love with the Geek, the freak, the girl that never wins, so what, so what

He grabbed the mic and held it towards his lips as he got into the music.

I'm in love with the weird, the wild, her rip jeans in her pants, so what so what

He closed his eyes for a second, zeroing in on the beat of music, the vibrations of the cheering crowd and the sound of the bass. He opens his eyes allowing them to fleet over the faces in the crowd. They soon drift to a stop, seeing a familiar face he's been wanting to see since he first got here.

(Y/n).

She's doesn't listen to the radio, but she sings along at all my shows

I'm in love with the Geek, the freak, the girl that never wins, so what, so what

He had caught her gaze and now he was searing with confidence as he jumped to the beat of his music and took the mic out of it's stand.

So what if she's no beauty queen, or the captain of the winning team

She's on the side lines living her own life and having a good time

So what if she's not popular, never made it as head cheer leader

She's on the side lines living her own life and having a good time (She's all that)

Akaashi had smiled causing her to give a smile of her own as he sang, he took note of how she nods her head to the beat of the music. He then points to her winking then smirking. 'It almost feels like he was singing to her' She had thought as her heartbeat suddenly picked up it's pace.

We could live happily ever after

All the girls in the world don't matter

She's the one, she's the one I'm after

So what if she's no beauty queen, or the captain of the winning team

She's on the side lines living her own life and having a good time

So what if she's not popular, never made it as head cheer leader

She's on the side lines living her own life and having a good time (She's all that)

Oh yeah, She's all that, Oh yeah

The song ends, Akaashi was sweating and breathing heavily, his grip on the mic hadn't loosened a bit. He was lost in the cheers of the crowd as it slowly made his ears numb. A sharp blaring sound is the only thing that he could hear as he continued to take uneven breathes. The numbness of his ears had faded upon seeing your face in the crowd again. He didn't want to lose you as he kept an eye on your figure. Kuroo and Bokuto had nudged him to take a bow along with them and once he did your figure looked like it was never there.

"Great performance out there."

"The song was lit."

As the grouo left the stage they were flooded with compliments, Kuroo had made his way to talk to a few girls whereas Bokuto's whereabouts are currently unkown. A finger had tapped Akaashi's shoulder, he turns around to fund you smiling that ridiculous smile of yours that forever had him captivated.

"You were great out there," the girl beamed.

"I guess. . . I-(y/n), I. . ." he hesitated, "I wrote that song about you and I-"

"I know."

Akaashi had never felt more horrified in his life, you on the other hand just continued on smiling as a solid blush crept it's way on hour face all the way to your neck.

"H-huh? Wait-I-what?"

"Bokuto told me," (Y/n) said as she craned her head to look over at the built male who was on the other side of the room, he had sent a flirtatous wink towards Akaashi.

"It was really sweet, I'm touched," she said while taking taking a step closer with each word, "but you wanna know something interesting? Akaashi Keiji is no longer a Stray."

"What do you mean?"

"Because, Akaash Keiji is mine now." she says leaning ever more closely, angling her her face and soon he could feel her breath fan against hos skin he then slowly closing the gap between them.

[feverinfeveroutfic]

chapter sixteen: the three droogs

“There was me, that is Alex, and my three droogs, that is Pete, Georgie, and Dim, and we sat in the Korova Milkbar trying to make up our rassoodocks what to do with the evening.” (one of many clockwork orange references)

“Isn't it fantastic?”

Belinda held up a sheet of pearly white stained glass about the size of a foot long sandwich from the shelf on the side of the room, and by the mere look on her face, Sam could see she was eager to make something out of it. The swirled milky grains shone in the overhead lights; Sam thought about the man in her dreams, and also of Alex, all by the very sight of it.

Class hadn't started yet and Marla hadn't showed up for art history earlier that morning but Belinda was eager to share some of what she had worked with over the summer term. As white as the little sliver in Alex's hair. As clean and crisp as the cool night of upstate New York.

Sam rested her chin in the palm of her hand. She sort of forgot what Alex's voice sounded like: she only knew it was so far removed from his face and little boy body. Belinda set the glass against the edge of the table and then leaned it onto the surface. She then ran her hand over the top of the glass.

“I love this opaque glass,” Belinda told her. “Back in June, I tried to convince Miss Estes to make a window comprised of nothing but this type of opaque glass.”

“And did you?” asked Sam.

“Nah, she was like 'it's too expensive, though!' But it's weird because I've been trying to make my window since August, and yet it's just on my own time, terms, and money. It just makes sense for me to do it. But she talked me out of it, though.” Belinda shrugged and returned her attention to the glass under her hand.

“Can I touch it?” Sam asked her.

“Touch it? Yeah! Besides, it's just us here.” Sam reached across the table and brushed her fingers against the edge of the glass. Indeed, it had such a rough texture and it made her think of the ridges on a piece of vinyl. Even with the glass upon the surface of the table, she couldn't hardly stop thinking about Alex and the little sliver in his hair, or the man in her dreams. She flashed back on what Cliff had said about his own hair and the little black streak on the side.

She thought of Cliff. She needed to see him again, given she only got to see him for the first day of school, but she knew they were in the studio at that point. All the way over in the impending darkness of Denmark. All he gave her prior to their leaving California was a phone call and a blow of a kiss.

“I don't know why,” she confessed to Belinda, “but when I look at this glass, I think of—this boy I met over the summer.”

“Oh?” She raised her eyebrows and gave her blonde hair a slight toss back from her shoulder with a flick of her head.

“Yeah, well—it's actually two boys, to be honest.”

“Oh, wow. My goodness.”

“They're both musicians—guitar players, actually. One's a bassist, the other is a straight up guitarist.”

Belinda rounded the side of the table so she could come closer to her. She folded her arms over the cold metal surface and brought her face closer to hers: Sam could smell the floral perfume on the side of her neck and her hair. She dropped her gaze to the serpent around her neck as it glimmered under the overhead shop lights.

“Care to share?” she asked her in a low voice.

“It's just us here,” Sam pointed out.

“Indeed, it is. We might not even have class today for all we know.” She shrugged her blonde hair brushed against her shoulders.

“Okay. Promise not to say anything to Marla?”

“Why not?”

“I just don't really wanna talk about it to her.”

“Hm, twisted. But—yeah, I'll keep it between us.”

“Okay. The bassist is Cliff, the guitarist is Alex.” She stopped herself when Alex's name slipped out. She never really met him, but at the same time, she and Belinda were still new to one another. She could keep it under lock and key with a fresh new canvas and yet she also had a means of sharing it with someone.

“Tell me about Alex. Start with Mr. Guitarist first.”

“Well, he's—really handsome. He's already going gray, though.”

“Older guy!” she declared.

“No. Young guy. Young boy who's already going gray.”

“Oh, my.” Belinda knitted her eyebrows together. “Young boy?”

“Yeah, he's—he's still in high school.”

“Does he like you back?”

“I dunno, to be honest,” Sam confessed.

“You should ask him,” she suggested. “Does he live in New York?”

“Out West.”

“Oh my god! Sounds like a pen pal type of thing. You should write to him and tell him via letter.”

“I could pick out some nice stationary and make it smell good,” Sam quipped. “Like spritz down the paper a little bit with some of my perfume.”

“Yes, yes!” Belinda's face lit up at the sound of that. “Make it sexy and sweet, too.” She flashed her a wink.

“Lead him into it nice and good. Or—you know—when I get to see him, I can lead him into it.” Belinda's eyes twinkled at the sound of that.

“What about the bassist now?”

“He's a classical cowboy,” Sam started.

“Classical? Like—with the moccasins and the spurs on his boots?”

“Nah, that's just what I call him. He learned classical music first, and then country music. Classical cowboy.”

“Wow. That's gotta be some good pickin' with his fingers.” Belinda winked at her a second time, to which Sam scoffed and rolled her eyes at that.

“It's just friendly between us,” she assured Belinda. “I also have another guy looking at me right now, too. I dunno 'bout that one.”

“You gotta have some conversation,” Belinda told her. “Even I can tell you that—” She lifted her gaze to the stairwell on the side of the room. “—and there's Marla.”

Sam looked over at Marla, who stood on the middle part of the stairs.

“Hey,” Sam called to her.

“Hey,” Marla retorted back to her.

“I'm gonna assume—just by the look on your face,” Belinda started, “class is cancelled today.”

“Yeah,” Marla replied with a nod of her head, and she turned her attention to Sam again. “You got any more classes today?”

“Just my writing class. It's way later today, though.”

“Okay. 'Cause Charlie's here—he offered to take us to lunch.” She nodded at Belinda. “Would you like to come along, Bel?”

“Oh, yes please. I got nothing else, so I might as well.” Belinda picked up the sheet of pearly white glass and carried it back to the shelf.

“He'll take us to the rehearsal spot given it's right nearby and then we'll get some pho or something. Aurora's there.”

“Aurora Borealis,” Sam declared as she picked up her things; Belinda doubled back and fetched her purse from the back of the chair. The two of them sauntered up the stairs and they followed Marla back outside. Even though it was nearly October, New York City still basked with lingering summer warmth and the sun still high in the sky; the three of them put their sunglasses on over their faces in unison.

Charlie had posted up at the curb, not too far from the front door. He had tied his thick dark curls back behind his head to accentuate the roundness of his face; the dark rims of his sunglasses shone under the midday sun.

The three girls congregated next to him: Sam lifted her gaze over to the trees across the street, and the leaves, which began to turn from that bright summer green and into a rich shade of orange. Some of them had already fallen off with the incoming autumn. She thought of that man, Dave, and the rift he had between James and Lars, and she wondered how he was doing back out West himself.

“So are we gonna walk or—?” Belinda asked him.

“We might as well,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. “Our spot is right up the street here. Aurora got something already.”

“Oh, goodie!” Marla proclaimed as she gave Charlie a kiss on the side of his neck as part of her hello to him.

The four of them strode up the sidewalk, towards the corner: indeed, Sam made sight of their rehearsal spot up the street. She adjusted the frame of her sunglasses before they crossed the hot blacktop and made their way up there. A slight breeze fluttered through her dark hair and it in turn sent a shiver down her spine. Autumn was upon them: a few dried leaves tumbled into the storm drain next to them, and she thought of little cups of hot chocolate and s'mores comprised around a fireplace.

Aurora stood on the doorstep with her hands stuffed into her black jeans pockets and her face pointed up to the sky. The midday sun shone upon her sunglasses and so bright that they could see her even from the street corner. Her jet black hair glistened as though it was soaking wet.

“Aurora Borealis!” Charlie called out and his voice echoed across the street. She lowered her gaze into their direction and she waved at them. Sam spotted a few bright purple bracelets on her wrist.

“You guys are just in time!” Aurora said once they came within earshot. “There's a bunch of pizza in here that needs to be eaten.”

“Oh, boy,” Sam remarked as she ran her fingers through her hair. Zelda poked her head out from behind Aurora: Sam almost didn't recognize her given she had combed her black hair back and soaked it wet for herself. “Oh, hey, Zelda!”

“Peek a boo,” she greeted them.

“Got the whole gang here, don't we?” Charlie declared.

“Indeed!” said Aurora, and she brought her attention to Marla and Belinda.

“Aurora, this is my friend Belinda,” the former introduced her. “She's a bit of a rocker chick herself.”

“The more, the merrier!” Aurora declared with her arms outstretched. “C'mon in.”

“Yeah, c'mon in, gang!” Frank called out from inside the building. The four girls filed inside after Zelda, only to be greeted by a bit of cool air from a fan on the window sill as well as the warm aroma of pizza, and Charlie shut the door behind him. Frank had set up a table and, indeed, a dozen boxes of pizza stood in a couple of columns on the surface: meanwhile, he had brushed his lush hair back from his face.

“Ladies first,” Frank beckoned them with a gesture to the stack of paper plates. The five girls were quick to serve themselves up plates of pizza and then Charlie and Frank themselves followed right behind them.

“Danny—Lilker—and I think Billy are both gonna be here soon,” Charlie told them. “And then I think Scott, other Dan—”

“Spitz,” Sam blurted out as she took two slices of pepperoni pizza for herself: she noticed a bit of mozzarella cheese in the crust.

“Mr. Spitz!” said Marla; she plopped down next to Frank.

“The amazing Danny Spitz,” Charlie continued as he took his seat next to her with his plate upon his lap. “Scott, Dan, and Joey are gonna be here like—any minute.”

“The dudes from Legacy aren't here, though,” Zelda told them.

“Legacy,” Belinda muttered.

“Our pals Legacy,” Charlie stated, and he crossed his legs and kept his pizza close to his body. And then his face lit up. “Oh! There's gonna be another guy here—a friend of mine.” He turned to his right. “I think I told you about him, Marla. Big John.”

“Oh, yeah, I think you mentioned him last week,” she recalled; Sam and Aurora took their seats across from them.

“I hope he'll be here because he's really cool—” He turned his attention to Zelda, who hovered in between Sam and Aurora. “—and he's a drummer.”

“Oh, cool!”

Belinda stood next to her and Marla turned her head a bit to see them right behind them.

“Have a seat, girls,” Frank encouraged Zelda and Belinda.

“I've been sitting for a long time,” the former told him.

“And I've been standing all day long,” said the latter, “I'm kinda used to it at this point.” Sam turned her head for a look back at her, just in time for a view at her pulsating her fingers.

“Holding glass and tools and stuff all morning long,” Belinda muttered, and her face lit up. “Hold Alex and Cliff on either side of you.”

Charlie gagged on his pizza and Zelda burst out laughing. Frank gaped at Sam and Marla and Aurora both raised their eyebrows at that.

“Belinda!” Sam snapped as she turned around a little bit in her seat so she could face her straight on.

“I'm so sorry—that just slipped out,” she said with a wave of her free hand.

“You told me you'd keep it a secret!”

“Sam, you haven't even met Alex,” Marla pointed out, horrified.

“Well, you should talk to him when you get the chance,” Belinda encouraged her. “Get to know him.”

“But he's sixteen, though,” Sam insisted.

“Seventeen,” Aurora corrected her. “His birthday was yesterday.”

“Wait.” Sam frowned at that. “What's the date today?”

“The thirtieth. Alex's birthday is the twenty ninth.”

“Aw, happy belated, Alex,” said Belinda as she raised up her cup of coffee. “Little Libra boy.”

“That's probably why he's so graceful with a guitar,” Marla suggested.

“Probably graceful with a few other things, too,” Frank joked, and that brought a laugh out of Marla and Charlie. Sam rolled her eyes and ducked out of the room with her plate of pizza in hand, furious. She bowed out of the building and back out to the street. If she could take the subway back to her place, she would do it. Just get away from all of them for a while.

But she had her writing class later on that day, thus instead, she stood at the curb and brought a hand to her face. She need not be seen by the people of New York City that she was about to burst into tears.

“Sam?” Belinda called out the door.

“Get away from me,” Sam barked at her. “No—get the hell away from me!” She stepped down into the dry storm drain. She was about to take a seat on the curb and eat her lunch alone.

“Sam, I'm sorry—okay? I didn't mean to do that! It just—it just came out of me.”

Sam whirled around so Belinda could see the tears in her eyes. Indeed, she saw tears in Belinda's eyes. She let her shoulders relax and she held her paper plate close to her chest.

“Why did you do that?” Sam demanded in a hushed voice. “Especially when you said you'd keep it a secret.”

“I told you,” Belinda insisted as she brushed away a tear, “it just came out of me. I thought it would make for a nice little joke. I'm such an idiot, I'm sorry.”

“It kind of was a joke, too,” Sam told her. “But it wasn't very good, though.”

“Well—do you like him, though?” Belinda persisted with a sniffle.

“Like him like him?” Sam raised an eyebrow, to which Belinda slowly nodded her head. “Belinda, he's still a teenager, though. He's a senior in high school. I'm twenty.”

“You know—my first crush was a dude in high school,” she told her as Sam strode on closer to her.

“And how old were you?”

“I was in middle school.” Belinda fetched up a sigh and slipped her fingers into her jeans pockets. “He was a sophomore in high school.”

“Yeah, but you guys were both around the same age, though,” Sam pointed out.

“You guys are around the same age, too,” Belinda said. “You're twenty and he's seventeen.”

“And how old were you?” Sam asked her.

“I was thirteen and he was sixteen.”

“Younger than us.”

“Younger than you. So do you like him?”

“I dunno,” Sam confessed.

“You dunno? What do you mean you dunno?”

“I just don't. Besides, I already have a bit of a crush on Cliff right now.”

“On Cliff! I've often thought about wanting to befriend him.”

“You should,” Sam told her with a wag of her finger. “Cliff is such a sweet heart.” Belinda brought her finger tips to her lips and Sam noticed some tears rested upon her eyelashes. She opened her arms for her: she only knew Belinda for a couple of weeks but she needed that, even if it was only with one arm. Sam held her plate of pizza right behind her blonde head.

“You know who else is a sweet heart?” she began with her face lowered down towards her ear.

“Who?” Belinda asked in a muffled voice.

“You are.”

She sniffled again and then she lifted her head from Sam's chest.

“By the way, I was just joking with Alex,” she assured Belinda, even though she had nothing else to fill in for herself. “Really, if anyone in here asks, it was just a little joke between us. It's nothing serious.”

And then Belinda nodded and showed her a little smile at that; the serpent around her neck glimmered with the light on the street.

“And promise me something,” Sam started again with her face close to hers. “Like—pinky promise me—” She stuck out her free pinky finger for her to hook up. “—that you won't tell anyone about this.”

Belinda linked fingers with her.

“Pinky promise.”

Sam leaned in to her face.

“I want to draw Joey in the full nude,” she whispered to her. Belinda raised her eyebrows at that.

“Really? Does—he know?”

“I've mentioned it before but I don't think he realized I was serious about it. I have my journal in my purse, though, if you'd like to see some sketches I made. But—I don't really want to share them with you just yet.”

“Why's that—” And then she stopped right in her tracks. “—oh, right.”

“Maybe when we get a moment, I'll show you.” Sam then held the plate before her. “But anyway, let's go back inside and clear the air in there.”

They walked inside in unison, and Sam kept her gaze fixated on Marla and the baffled expression on her face.

“We were just joking around,” Sam assured her as she returned to her spot.

“I had a feeling that was the case,” said Marla with a nod of her head. “She did that with me right before Charlie and I got together.”

“Except it was with me,” Frank recalled before he took a bite of pizza.

“Bel's just got this sense of humor,” Marla continued. “You mention a guy in your periphery and she'll wanna make jokes about it.”

“Did she cry when you didn't react to it well?” Sam asked her.

“I don't think she did,” she answered as she brought her slice of pizza up to her lips. “I think we just laughed about it because we both knew we were joking.”

Sam then turned around for a look back at Belinda, who stood right next to Zelda; she flashed her a wink before she took a bite of her pizza. Indeed, she never actually properly met Alex before, but her own thoughts began to catch up with her. But on the other hand, she never met him before. As far as she knew, he didn't know she existed.

And yet, she had Cliff and Joey by her sides. She needed not a third boy before her. She had to come closer to Cliff first, and there was no way she could forget about Joey, either. Two guys on either side of her. Add to this, she had Frank and Charlie before her as her good friends.

Alex lingered in the back of her mind, much like the mysterious man in her dreams. But then she recalled what Marla had said about those sort of dreams. Everything was coming together fine for her.

With nothing more, she took a bite of pizza, which was still warm even after she went outside.

“It's all coming together for us,” Frank proclaimed, and he brought his glass up to his lips.

“Another month and we're going nuts with the new record,” Charlie added.

“Coming and nuts?” Zelda cracked.

“Coming and nuts, exactly!” Charlie said with a straight face.

“All these veggies are about as fresh as that,” Aurora declared with a mouthful of bell peppers, and Sam couldn't help but laugh at that.

[extreme-close-up-woooaah]

breakfast club headcanons V

andrew - first things first i think that we can all agree that this man is in fact a jean cuffer, he’s a bi man - he had braces from 7th grade to junior year and gets very embarrassed of  precious old photos of younger him - okay so, i need to elaborate on this boys family life, it’s insane - this boy is brothers with the kid in the police office in ferris buellers day off (his name is garth volbeck) and they have a sister named judy because garth mentions her - yes i did this because they are brothers irl and have different last names irl (but for different reasons)  - and their parents divorced a year before the breakfast club so their mother (a very sweet lady who loves her kids no matter what and respects them, she can also bake and she taught andrew to respect woman) she already moved out into another house in another neighborhood - so andrew lives with his dad sadly, and has a hard time escaping it all, garth is in between everything and judy lives with their mother by choice because of obvious reasons - okay hopefully ya’ll understand that :) - next things next this man (even out of my au) grows up to be a librarian - the story to how that happened is kind of upsetting, i don’t want anyone to feel in any way triggered or upset by this so... T W: don’t read if sensitive to stuff like verbal abuse - after highschool he got into a college for wrestling and did his thing and then after that he got onto the wrestling team his dad coaches - andrew had joined but it had drained him, his mental health was deteriorating to say the least - eventually he started to feel pain in his knee but his father kept pushing him and pushing him until he couldn’t take it anymore - he knee gave out  - i’m not educated enough to say why but all i know is that he couldn’t wrestle anymore and was useless in his fathers eyes - his father said very mean things to him and left him at a telephone booth with very little money, enough to get a burger at a mcdonalds, he called garth - asked him to take him to the hospital, he was shaky on the phone but his brother understood and came to pick him up - the ride was completely silent and understandably so, but andrew ended up crying in the passenger seat, he was kind of cold too  T W over: enjoy the rest :) - uh soooo ONCE AGAIN i am NOT educated enough to say what happened to his knee but he ended up having some chronic knee thing and it was only going to get worse and he needed a knee brace for it  - he ends up staying at garth and his boyfriends house (sorry to anyone who thinks brian should just be on his own, me and my bf ship brian and garth like a couple of dorks U-U so please do ignore it if you don’t like it or think of them as roommates :>)  - he ended up getting a job at the local library and he was pretty good at it, this library in particular was very safe and a tame - perfect, so he ended up getting the money from it and a small loan from his brother and getting his own apartment eventually  - he built his life back up and he’d end up in a comfortable house with a cat and perhaps a husband or wife A H E M bENDer - okay now on to the good stuff, lead your mind back to kindergarten - when he was younger he liked the colors pink and purple and he likes blue omg bi pride  but he ended up getting scolded for it from his dad so he vowed his whole life to hate those three things because he thought this was the normal way to live - which would explain why he’d say he hates cats but then meet one or even own one and get crazy attached to it and even name it - him and his brother wrestled around a lot but when it came to their sister they’d never hurt her, she (age: 3) was BRUTAL to them, they all look back and laugh on it later - he’s a middle child but oddly he crushes the idea of middle child syndrome because he gets too much unwanted attention from his dad, garth is two years older, his sister is three years under - in middle school he was kinda awkward and even in highschool wasn’t the most popular kid, he was good at wrestling and considered to be the best of them but girls liked the louder ones better, he’s kind of quiet - he’s got “terrible taste” in clothes according to the entirety of the breakfast club, he dresses like an old man when he’s older, but like an ancient man like me  like full on plaid pants blue shirt tan cardigan kinda thingy - when he’s younger he stays sporty on days where he has a meet but some days my man wears a yucky polo and plaid pants and a big belt once again some ugly old man stuff that i’d wear - he’s a door mat, push over, he cannot say no and that’s one of his main issues NOT PROJECTION but like me 😎 - he’s extremely polite and tries his best at being nice and respectful toward everyone but when it comes to standing up for himself in particular against people who aren’t specifically bender, he’s lost and kinda just ignores it and lets it happen - bender finally gets him to snap cause andrew wouldn’t let anyone hurt his friends or even just a person in general - he’s a little on edge for the rest of his time in detention - ya’ll okay sorry bout this, but the breakfast club is just a group of stuffed animal hoarders, he’s got a regular old teddy bear at his MOMS house so it’s safe :) - lil spoon  - cozy man wears sweaters - OH he’s super short, not a headcanon, HECK its not projection, i just enjoy the fact that he’s short and blonde like meee :} lets appreciate the tiny boy shall we? - his letterman is a size too big because he was told he’d grow into it, he is cozy - he’s at his happiest when he’s a. with his friends b. on a chair with a cat or c. outside in autumn time  - bender makes andrew a small angry bi whenever he’s around, andrew has a lot of pent up anger and he’s a little uptight and bender shakes him loose and gets him annoyed and then continues to baby voice him about how much he loves him in a funny sorta way, mostly when they were younger - andy and allison are super close and tell each other almost everything, they have coffee together and talk about how everything is every now and then, more often when they’re older - benders strong so he’ll give everyone piggy backs, usually he surprise attacks andy tho and picks him up, or if they walk home all together after school, whoevers tired, if its andrew he’ll be gentle in that circumstance - brian and andrew like books, one grows up to be an author and the other a librarian, and once andy discovers his book in his library he smiles and checks it out to read - claire and andy are closer when they’re older, they talk about their shared experiences as a kid and how they ended up where they are and they talk about how lucky they are compared to others - when they were younger claire used to try and show the boys style, bender is already a fashionista but claire picks out some cool ties for him with wacky designs on them, he wears those to work when he’s older - brian enjoys it but only to buy a pair of new shoes, perhaps some loafers and a cool button up - claire has to pick out clothes for andy because andy doesn’t know what he likes quite yet, claire ends up teaching him how to cuff his jeans and :)))))) okay i’ll stop - around christmas, andrew gets the worst gifts, he tries so so hard but he can never seem to get it right, bender gets a kick out of it :}  - in the au they have a cat named mr.ravioli because bender made raviolis and the cat began to feast on them without them knowing so they decided that’d be his name i’ll stop here but it’s not the last part of this series of headcanons, i will write more, some future ones being for all of them together, and then a fbdo bttf pretty in pink cross over where all the cool kidz hang together!! sorry this was so long ;<; i didn’t mean to absolutely pour out my heart but i love andrew and he deserves some headcanons :} i hope their not too bad ;w;

[skruffie]

in which I’m getting to know my brain better

I can’t really pinpoint a time when I started reading about ADHD and believed that maybe it was something that I had. I think it’s kind of been in the back of my head from when ADD was still a commonly-used term but then I would go “naaaah can’t be me, I’m just a lazy person!” I remember ages ago in high school I was at a friend’s house and watching their brothers and I thought “This is what actual ADHD looks like” so I guess that kind of pins it for me thinking about it as long ago as 15 years ago but I never gave it serious consideration until more recently.

(This is very, very long so I don’t blame you if you want to just skip it entirely)

Just last night I was talking to Zack and I was giggling and going “I still can’t believe I really didn’t see this before” and they were going “Really?”

Let’s think about this. As a kid I was always pretty sensitive and had weird... I used to call them compulsions but now I wonder if it was more impulsive behavior where I would hoard things like rocks and leaves or do dangerous shit without thinking about it (one memory comes to mind immediately when I noticed there was broken glass on the playground and I started meticulously picking it up as carefully as I could, and my teacher freaked out when she saw what I was doing. It unsettled my mom too, but me explaining that I didn’t want anyone to get hurt didn’t help put them at ease). I would be deeply sucked into my imagination at times, like... 

When I was a kid I always kind of pictured myself like everything that was happening was a movie. I don’t really mean this in a dissociative derealization kind of thing, but just imagining every second was a movie or a video game. Sometimes I still do this. I can’t really pinpoint if there were a lot of hyperactive symptoms other than countless times my mom told me to stop fiddling with my hands or string or whatever was within my grasp. I would always come home from school dirty with grass stains on my jeans and holes in my knees and rocks in my pockets, earning the title “skruffy ragamuffin” from my sister, but I just kind of figured that was part of being a kid. Looking at it NOW through this viewpoint gives me second thought though.

I picked up on physical activities rather quickly from a young age like dancing and karate--probably the physical movement was what I needed to help me focus--and I do things like pick at the skin around my thumbs, bite the inside of my cheeks (Didn’t realize this was a thing until I watched Hannah Hart describe it as part of her fidgeting and went “OH.”)

As I got older and after my sister died, see... I always viewed this time period in my life as I couldn’t do school or focus because of my grief and my home life falling apart, and I think part of that is still true. However, I would continue this with “And because of that I didn’t form good study habits and that continued into highschool when I stopped giving a shit”. Which was better than thinking I was just a stupid failure, and I really don’t think I am stupid... I can think quickly on my feet, I notice things that other people don’t, I’ve been an advanced reader from a VERY early age and I can infer correct answers from context clues and analyze things in that way. 

There is one memory from high school that, in the past, I thought maybe was tied to an emotional flashback but I realize now that it might’ve been Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria. There was a weird disagreement that I was having with a friend of mine over something (truly can’t remember what it was about now), and somehow this rejection of him not listening to me spiraled me into this state of Why Should I Fucking Bother and the first target for this heavy, painful feeling was “okay, well I should just stop drawing because Why Should I Fucking Bother”. My English teacher found me sitting in the hallway crying and sat down with me to ask what was happening and I tried to explain, and then he had me show him my artwork and he goes “You are an incredible artist, you shouldn’t give this up.” One of few teachers in my life who I will always respect because he was always stern in a kind way, understanding, and an overall wonderful man.

I’m kind of getting off track here but I think that’s really just self-demonstrating at this point.

When I worked at Target there wasn’t really an opportunity for the ADHD type symptoms to manifest because I was pretty much always moving. In school I could zone out very easily but at work I was able to have more bouts of focus, but traded off my inattention for anxiety instead. This was also just a few years after the big PTSD causing event, but retail in general can give pretty much anyone some anxiety issues. Nonetheless, the things that I enjoyed about working there is that I was able to master my work zone completely (to a point of annotating the training guide with new information and keeping it updated), became the go-to person for several things, and I enjoyed being able to have a bit of freedom of movement around my work space. I enjoyed being able to have physical, tangible ways to see progress being made on something and there was a surprising amount of nuance and problem-solving when it came to resolving customer complaints. 

Moving to a desk job in 2018 was a weird departure from all of that. I had started off kind of as a clerical worker and would compile the concrete goods vouchers that we send out to our clients, receive them back, prepare them for scanning, scan+upload to case files, etc. It was dreadfully boring a lot of the time but I didn’t mind the long stretches where I could sit and prepare documents for scanning because I was able to listen to music while I got them ready. After a while I was encouraged to become a fiduciary, and that is really when the Maybe I Have ADHD started to rear it’s head.

My job doesn’t have the tangible way to see that I’ve made progress. I update placements to generate foster care payments, I generate the vouchers for concrete goods, I put in ongoing foster care case management payments or daycare payments, I will sometimes resolve some payment issues but only to a certain point--I’m able to see information but being able to solve the problem is actually not my area unless I can correct it within the case management system. There is an extreme need to be detail oriented because we work with specific service dates, with some services ongoing but some needing to be renewed every six months, gobs of emails with paperwork and trying to get the right signatures on everything because we’re dealing in state money...

on top of this, in order to move into the permanent position, I’ve been taking the accounting classes online outside of work and (until the pandemic started) having a long commute-work-commute day that totaled about 12 hours out of my waking life. My diet changed radically because Zack and I didn’t see each other often and getting home at 6:30 at night didn’t leave a lot of room to cook and then eat before having downtime to sleep... only to wake up at 5:30 AM again... my insomnia started kicking in to a point now where I take a benadryl through the work week to keep my sleep schedule on track. I started having anxiety attacks at work because trying to keep up with remembering all the little details I need to at work was getting to me. 

As I was training, I would write a post-it reminder whenever I repeated a mistake and stick it to my monitor. I got up to about 14 post-its before it became distracting and I instead compiled them onto a list and tacked it to my cubicle wall.

A few months into this I had a crying jag talking to Zack because it felt like something was really wrong and I couldn’t pinpoint what exactly. Depression? Anxiety? Trauma? School trauma? I think it’s just been untreated ADHD this whole time. I keep thinking back to this post I’ve seen on Tumblr a long time ago where someone said “disability exists in the context of the environment” and I think that’s what’s happening to me. I previously have bee in environments that weren’t butting up against The ADHD as much, but this job has been extremely challenging for the past 11 months. 

Thankfully, my boss and I have one-on-one discussions regularly (used to be every other week but since the pandemic started it’s been weekly phone calls) and she has no issues with my work performance... likely because I exert a lot of mental and emotional energy to keep up with everything I need to do. I’m also in charge of the busiest field office in our region--there’s a high turnover rate, lots of child welfare cases, etc--and the social workers that I talk to on the regular enjoy having me as their fiduciary. There have been many times however, despite the fact I seem to be doing pretty good, where it feels like I am hanging on by a fucking thread. Here’s something personal that I don’t think I’ve shared yet on the blog: last year, within the first month and a half of adjusting to this new pace of work and school and the long commutes, the schedule was so stressful for me that it made my period late. Worrying I was pregnant just stressed me out more. Not being able to treat this Probably ADHD has been detrimental to my mental health.

On the 22nd, I’m going to have a telehealth meeting with a doctor to see if I can get a referral for a screening. I kind of worried that if I do get diagnosed with ADHD it would send me into this mourning state of what-could-have-been but honestly... I’m tired. I’m tired of beating myself up for exhausting myself into keeping up with other people. I think I owe it to myself to get the help that I need. Looking at my life with the lens of I Probably Have ADHD has actually given me a renewed sense of self-worth and confidence because it’s something that I can learn how to take control of. It’s worth it. I’m worth it.

[imagineaworlds]

Three Days -- Marcus Arguello

Written By: @desperately-bisexual​

Request: “Hey! I love your fics, and I saw that you write for deadly class? Can I get a Marcus fic where chester (fuck face) takes the reader and calls Marcus with his demands? Hope that's enough xD. tHanks!”

Warnings: Mature Content!!!!!!! (16+). Kidnapping. Drugging. Threatening with a weapon. Mentions of bestiality. Mention of masturbation. Cursing. Angst. Mention of murder. Description of murder. Like everything bad is in here, except for pure smut. So be aware.

Pairing: Marcus Arguello x Assassin!Reader

Word Count: 2026

Listen To: Like I’m Gonna Lose You by Jasmine Thompson

A/N: This turned out to be much longer, and much more intense than I expected. Yikes.

I shivered against the coldness of the blade pressed against my skin. I tried not to cry, I tried not to move… I was paralyzed with fear. When I had woken up, I found myself tied to a chair in Shabnam’s house. Only a week before had Marcus and I gone to his house for a party that the rat’s put together. But there I was, frightened to death in that same house with a knife dragged lightly across my skin, not enough pressure to cut me, though.

He circled me, groaning and moaning, and I felt sick. I didn’t know what he wanted with me, or what he was going to do to me. But telling by the state of Shabnam’s house, I wasn’t hopeful for the best. Who was this man that had taken me…

An hour ago, I was walking through the city with Maria and Saya. They decided to go steal some alcohol from the nearby liquor store, but I wanted no part of it. I was waiting outside for them, my eyes focused on the sidewalk, when someone came up from behind me and put a chloroform cloth over my mouth. I tried to remember my training, something— anything… but my thoughts were getting fuzzy, and then I was out.

When I woke up, I couldn’t see his face, but I knew whoever he was, he was in the room with me, watching me. We sat in silence for minutes, and I was too scared to say anything. I hadn’t taken any class yet where they had shown me how to get out of a hostage situation, all school was about was how to kill someone, how to dispose of the body, who to manipulate targets, etc. There was nothing about this.

As he brought the knife up, closer to my breasts, I stiffened. I thought he was about to cut my shirt open before he stopped. I took a deep breath and held in a sob. “You’re one tough cookie,” the man said, his thick southern accent pouring into the room like molasses. “All the others were crying and squealing when I took them, but not you. I can see why Marcus likes you so much.”

Marcus. He must have been so worried about me… Did he even know? How long had I been gone for? Did Maria or Saya notice I was gone, had they gone back to King’s Dominion for help? Marcus, my love… What did this monster want with him…

“What you say we give him a lil’ call, let ‘im know you’re alive… for now.” My heart pounded in my chest. “Give me the number, and I won’ hurt ya.” I didn’t say anything to him, even as he put the knife against my throat. I called his bluff. “Too bad. I already got the number from the lovely people in the kitchen. I jus’ wan’ed to see if you’d give.” My eyes followed him as he sat in front of me, a phone in his hand. I finally got a good look at him. His face was completely burned, his arm, too. He had a mullet, and fashioned multiple earrings and other jewelry.

“Please, don’t,” I choked. “I’ll do whatever you want, just leave Marcus out of this.”

“No can do, lady,” he said as he dialed, “This has everything to do with Marcus, I just need you to get to him.” He put the phone up to his ear, and there was silence as the phone rang. Then, “Hey, lover-boy. I just wanted to give you call, let you know that our lil’ meetin’ in Vegas wasn’ part of your hippie drug trip or not’in’. Do ya remember? I told ya I was goin’ fuck wit’ ya.” There was silence as he listened on the phone. I just wanted to hear Marcus’ voice one last time. “Oh, you’re lovely lady friend told me how I could find ya. Nice lady, doesn’ react well to the drugs I pumped in her.”

He took the phone away from his ear and put it on speaker, then held it out. I knew what he wanted from me. “Marcus…” I whispered. I didn’t know if I could talk any louder than that. I heard a breathless sigh came from the other side of the line. “Marcus, I’m okay. Don’t do anything he—” before I could finish, the man had the phone back on his ear. I tried to hold back the tears welling in my eyes.

“Anyway, she told me all about your new school, that you got accepted ‘cause of what ya did at the boy’s home. What it feel like livin’ my life, huh, Marcus? How does it feel takin’ my rightfully deserved fame? Takin’ my birthright. Don’t worry ‘bout it, now, Marcus. You’ve taken somet’in’ from me, so I’ve taken somet’in’ from ya. Now we’re fair and square. She’ll make a great pet, don’t sweat it. I’ll take good care of her.” The man smirked. “What I wan’ from ya is evert’in’ ya stole from me! I wan’ my fame and fortune, asshole! Or I’ll fuckin’ kill ya girl!” He calmed himself, “But, don’t worry ‘bout not’in, Marcus. I’ll treat her right before I blow her brains out. Hey, you remember that poodle I really like back in the day? Your girl really reminds me of her.”

A beat of silence as I debated what he meant by that. And then he put the phone on speaker again. “Marc—”

“Listen, we don’t have much time. I’m going to come and get you, okay? Everything will be fine. Just do what he says, and keep yourself alive, alright? I love you.”

I felt a tear run down my cheek, “Marcus, please… don’t do what he says… I’m not worth it.”

“Don’t fucking talk like that. I love you, okay? I’m coming for you.”

“I love you, too.”

The man put the phone back on his ear, “Oh, and just to speed you and ya lil’ friends along, I’m givin’ you three days to find us. Three days or I send her head to ya fancy new school. She’ll be packaged up along with ya ol’ pal Chico and a letter saying who killed ‘em.”

Chico… How did this man know about Chico? How did he know about Maria? About Vegas? About Marcus? My head was spinning.

For two days, that man held me hostage in Shabnam’s living room. We didn’t hear from Marcus or the others, and my captor hadn’t made any contact with them. He brought me dog food and water in a dog dish for every meal. He talked to and treated me like an animal, and at meals he would watch Animal Planet and National Geographic. On the first night, I realized why his hand was down his pants during the “Dogs of Mexico” segment.

He turned to me, “That bitch right there reminds me of Marcus’ side squeeze, Maria,” he rolled the r in her name.

He didn’t speak to me the rest of that night. By the second night, he was joking about how he would kill me, how he would send mine and Chico’s heads with packing peanuts, the worst human invention. He talked about the poodle he compared me to— showed me pictures of it.

He came towards me once he was finished, the knife in his hands again. I thought that was it for me. I watched helplessly as he considered the strength it would take to saw my head of my body. And then he went to the kitchen to consider a butcher knife, instead.

I finally let myself cry for the first time in a long while. At King’s Domain, I could only cry around Marcus and Billy. If anyone else saw me like that, they would think me weak and easy target, and I couldn’t have that reputation at a school full of blood thirsty assassins.

While he was gone, I heard the floorboard creak behind me. I jumped and looked over my shoulder the best I could. I saw Maria standing there with her face paint, red dress, and weapons disguised as fans. I tried to warn her that he wouldn’t be gone long. She knew. She snuck around the floor more carefully, weaving through the piles of trash.

Then I heard footsteps on the level above us, in Shabnam’s room. I should have known she wouldn’t come alone. The others must have come with her. Maria pounced when she was close enough and cut my bindings. I stood and rubbed my wrists before throwing my arms around her. “We don’t have much time, hermosa. Come.”

“Where’s Marcus?”

“He wanted to be the one to kill Chester.”

“Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

“No, I want to help Marcus,” I argued quietly. The footsteps from upstairs came into the living room, and I saw Saya. “You have to find Chico’s head, and that psycho might have even kept the body, too.”

“You haven’t eaten in days, you can’t fight like this.”

“I can, and I will. Go.”

Saya took Maria’s hand, and they went off to search the rest of the house. As I turned to head to the kitchen, I heard dishes break in a struggle. I tried not to think about the shooting pain in my legs as I ran towards the noise. The man who had kept me hostage, this Chester, had Marcus in a headlock, and Marcus struggled for air. I jumped in to help him.

Marcus got free of Chester’s grip and wheezed while I threw a punch to Chester’s burnt cheek. “Fucking asshole,” I cursed as I threw another punch.

Chester saw the third one coming, though, and nailed me in the stomach. I stumbled back into Marcus, who caught me. I looked up at him, and before we could say anything to each other, Chester came at us both with his knife. I dodged the attack, and hit his wrist, causing him to drop the knife on the floor. While I held Chester back, Marcus scrambled for the knife. Chester bucked and cursed as I jumped onto his back to slow him down. I managed to get my arm around his neck, and wrap my legs around his arms and torso.

Marcus turned the knife in his hand. “Kill him, Marcus!” I yelled. Marcus lunged and stabbed Chester in the abdomen. Chester groaned and stopped fighting against me. I fell away from him as he tumbled to the ground, holding his bleeding wound. “Burn in hell, fuck face,” I said, unironically. I spat down at him and fell into the kitchen counter. My legs stung, and my nose felt broken. My lip was bleeding, and my stomach ached.

Marcus hurried to me as I crashed into dirty pots and pans. “Hey, you’ve gotta stand up, babe. You can’t fall asleep, or you might never wake up.” He was right. Even if I had a mild concussion, closing my eyes was the worst thing I could do for myself. I tried to stay focused on his eyes and busted lips. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “This is all my fault.”

I put a hand on his shoulder to maintain my balance, “No, it’s not. It’s just the job. This is only the first of many experiences we’ll have like this.” Marcus held my face in his hands. “Thank you for coming for me.”

He scoffed, “You’ve gotta be kidding. I wasn’t going to let you die in Shabnam’s house, how humiliating would that be?”

“Always the jokester, Arguello. Just kiss me.”

He pressed his lips against mine, “I’m sorry. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Maria and Saya came running in. Saya had a bowling ball bag over her shoulder, and I knew what was in there— rather, who was in there. Maria said nothing about it, none of us did. “Willie’s outside with the car. Let’s get out of here,” Saya said.

Marcus kept his arm around me, keeping me close to him, as we left Shabnam’s house. I always fucking hated that house.

deadly class family: @peggy1999 @gorgeousdarkangel @marvelismylifffe

[smolbeandrabbles]

Sway Pt.7 - Danny Rayburn x Reader (Bloodline)

HAPPY 50th BIRTHDAY BEN MENDELSOHN! AND THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING!

It’s only appropriate for me to post this particular fic today...

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6  / Here / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10

Authors Note: ...I uhm... Hope that cover doesn’t look TOO much like a wedding... Despite the jokes in this...! I edited it several times! Having said that I did get to use another Dirty Dancing 2 image - THAT THIS ENTIRE FIC STARTED BASED ON WAY BACK WHEN!!! So I’m happy about that! I also had to take advantage of Danny in a suit! So... I essentially wanted to write this, then cut it, then wrote it to take Sway to 10 parts... and it’s ended up really long!

Gosh darn, I just read this back to edit and... There’s a few super significant paragraphs in here I forgot I ever wrote...

Disclaimer: As ever, I only own my OCs! 

Premise: As Danny’s departure for the Rayburn’s 45th Anniversary looms, you reminisce on Anniversaries of your own... However, deep down, you know you’re only wasting precious time...

Word Count: 8991

Warnings: DUI / Swearing / Sexual Amble (!!!)  / Another load of people talking trash about Danny. Oh god, and I promised we’d get LESS angsty didn’t I?! 

I believe, things happen for a reason Even though you might not see it at the time Cause now I know Every plan that came unravelled Every crooked path I travelled in my life Led me here to your side

Could it have been easier? Yeah A little smoother ride? Maybe so But lying here with you, would I change one thing ‘bout that road? No  --- Looking at you looking out the window right now, Those eyes, that dress, that smile, that laugh If I could hit pause I would somehow  But it don’t work like that --- There’s nothing I wouldn’t try  If I thought it would change your mind And I know as soon as you walk out that door… Pain’s a comin’, tears are runnin’ Yeah that’s kind of the way I’m feelin’ Trying to stop your leaving…

Present Day - Your Apartment, Late

You were standing on your balcony, tapping your fingers against a glass of water and watching the sun sink down over your favourite skyline. Another day gone, and you were fast running out of time… The Rayburn’s 45th Anniversary was in just 2 weeks… If you couldn’t stop Danny from leaving… You shook your head, not wanting to think on it, and let out a groan. He joined you, winding his arms around your waist, kissing your cheek and nuzzling his face into your neck; his hum was content… The Anniversary though, only made you think of your parents. You and Danny were fast approaching your 3 year mark. Which made you crack a smile, remembering your Dad’s jest in the middle of his toast. So much had changed over the past year… You entwined your fingers with Danny’s as you placed your hands on his; resting your head against him. AT LEAST during that time, you and him had been something consistent… ***

Previously… You realised, staring at the pile on your kitchen counter, that you might need more help than you thought. And certainly wouldn't be able to get all this in your car at once... 

You must have been staring at it for a good few minutes because you heard your balcony door slide across, and were greeted with a call of: "Need any help!?" Danny had gone out for one last cigarette before he put in a couple of hours in the restaurant ahead of tonight. The party would take all day to set up, so you'd offered to go down early to help your parents and friends. "No, no baby that's okay I...!" He threw his smoke down and hurried over, you sighed; "You need to get down to the restaurant." He hummed "Yeah, maybe, but you know I'm never late... C'mon, there's a lot here..." He stacked a few boxes, and held his hand out for what you were already carrying, you held it behind you defensively. "Uh uh! No! You don't get to see this yet!!" He laughed; "Why not!?” Mostly because whatever him, Javi, and Javi’s cousin had decided to dress Danny in remained a mystery - turns out Javi called in a fashion industry favour - and you wanted to be just as mysterious. But you also liked the way Danny would study every inch of you if you ever wore something he'd never seen before. You'd rather he saw this on than off... Well. Maybe off. Later. “Because...!” You didn't need a reason That only made him laugh harder “Don't tell me!! This wedding anniversary is going to turn into an actual wedding...” That made you gasp for effect, but laugh, "Will you stop...!!!" He joked about this way too often. But you only left him shaking his head as he collected the boxes and opened the door for you, "Which car?" "911..." "You’re NOT gonna fit all this in that car!” "It'll fit!” “Nah! We'll put some in mine and I'll follow you down.” “You don’t have to do that...” “I know I don't...” He leant across to catch your lips “But I'd sure like to...”

 You managed to squeeze nearly everything into your car’s limited two-seater space, but Danny still insisted that he help you out. So, now he was following you down the seaway. When you pulled up Danny stayed in his car and just stared. "What?" You opened his car door “It's on a yacht!?” You looked back, it could probably be classed as a liner. Looking like a classier version of somewhere you might have a high school prom. “Yes.” “... Don't tell me your dad bought this.” “Noooo... His friend is letting us borrow it.” Danny shook his head. “His friend!?” *

“Where's papa!?” You embraced your mom “Oh. Called to some project. It’s okay... Men will only get in the way!!” You raised an eyebrow, there were plenty of males around helping! Also... “Oh! Danny!! You sweetheart! You didn't have to!” “What? No, my pleasure...” He put the boxes on the table your mother indicated and joined you, “See you later…!” “Yeah have a good day...” You embraced him He looked around “Well, I know you will...” Kissing your cheek he turned to accept your mom's hug, "Don't go day drinking too much!!" He walked backwards back towards the gangplank with a cheeky wink; only making your mom laugh. “God, I like him...” “I know.” “And so does your father…” She turned to you with a suggestive look. “Yeah, I know!' That much was obvious. Even though Danny was your boyfriend your dad treated him like the son he never had.

 ***

 Everything was ready and set up; except you. Still trying to get those finishing touches looking just right... You sighed, for some reason the place cards on this particular table just weren't playing ball. Your mother called you from across the deck, "Y/N!!!! Are you still not dressed!?" "Mama!! This just isn't working!!" She shook her head "Too much like me for your own good!" She took your arms and steered you away from the table: "Oh yeah... Because I certainly got the perfectionist thing from you with my work in progress..." It was the way she had described Danny as being like your father when she’d first met him. "Danny is a fine man. I'll deal with the table..." She pulled you down a deck and headed towards a large suite of rooms, “Absolutely he is fine..." You tried to hide your smirk, "Do you know what he's wearing?" "No..." "Has he seen your dress?" "No. Mama. I wasn't about to ruin the main event!" She laughed and ushered you into a dressing room; "Now get changed!! People will be arriving soon!!"

You shook your head as she closed the door behind you. You took a quick shower and dried your hair... You already knew it was going up tonight... You took care with your makeup. Going for a little of that classic movie star flawlessness from all those old films your parents loved to watch. Approaching your dress you ran the fabric through your fingers, white into powder blue; halter neck with a cut taken straight out of the 50s. Sporadic clusters of Swarovski crystals covered the skirt and the ribbon that tied it coloured the same blue the dress bled into. You studied it in the mirror for a second and twirled. The only thing that disappointed you was that the cut was modest; whilst the chain was visible the ‘D’ wasn't... You sat and began on your hair, when there was a knock at the door, you beckoned them in and heard your mother gasp. "Oh... My baby is so grown up...!!" She approached you, and taking the straighteners from you she helped finish your look.  "I can't wait to see his face." “Mom, this is your anniversary..." "I know I just..." She hummed, sliding pins into your hair "... You remind me so much of us..." You couldn’t stop the smile; but it felt strange, that your mom would compare you and Danny to her own relationship with your father. In your eyes the two were completely different… Maybe she saw something you couldn’t see… But that also meant, as Danny has teased so many times, she saw real longevity in this. For once, you were starting to believe that too. She finished with a pretty hair slide from another one of your favourite designers, leaving some of your hair to frame your face. "You are so perfect..." You almost beamed, but then pulled at the chain again: "Just this... You can't see it... " "Come here... We'll see if we can't make a change..." She took the fine chain in her fingers and uncoupled it, looping it around your neck again she pulled it to make more of a choker and linked the ends back together through the ring to hold it in place, "There... " "Why didn't I think of that!?!" She chuckled "Thinking too much! As always…" she presented you with a box, "But, I also want you to wear this..." You hesitated, looking to her, and opened it with a gasp; "Mama. No..! It's too much!! I can't!!" You knew the bracelet well. The amount of times your mom had worn it for dance competitions... It was the first thing your father had ever saved up and brought her. It held the same significance to your parents as your necklace did for your own relationship. "You can, and we want you too..." ***

Amanda and Evelyn were the first two people you really greeted with enthusiasm. You did, however, have to raise your eyebrows at Amanda’s outfit – never passing up the chance to take someone home (and her relationship with Javi more of a… *cough* summer fling *cough*) her dress was skin tight and verging on inappropriate. That was just like Amanda, though. Evie had gone full on floor length ballgown – never missing the opportunity to dress up. You were thankful they were here, to take your mind off waiting in anticipation for Danny to show. Suddenly there was a buzz around you, and Amanda had to catch someone to explain what was going on. “OH. Someone pulled up with a Zegna Maserati. God, Y/N, I thought your dad was the only one outside of Italy with a car like that!?” “Isn’t it his!?” “No. Different number plate – Your dad came in the Lambo anyway…” What-!? It MUST have been your fathers. “So who are they!?” “You mean the man who looks like YSL dressed him personally?” They jerked their thumb over their shoulder “Talking to your dad…” Now this you had to see. “…If he’s single…” Evie suggested, but you laughed; “I’ll put a word in…” You walked through the crowd, aware they were both following behind you, just as intent on finding out who was the new celebrity. “-Wait!?---Is that--!?” You hushed them in the event this was a mirage. Your dad tapped his arm and he turned. The air left the deck; for both of you. His blue eyes fell on yours and he swallowed hard. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. You could just about make out the look on your father’s face, but everything else melted. You bit your lip shyly, and made your way across the floor to him. The crowd parting for the daughter of the couple they were all here for. You noticed your friends hung back in order to let you have this moment. How many people here knew about you and Danny? It was clear none of them knew who he was – but the fact that putting him in a suit and a fancy car made them all want to know him was very telling of Miami high society. You swept your gaze over him and realised you’d be thanking Javi for a very long time. The suit was fitted; taking every advantage of Danny’s height and body shape – they had obviously tailored. It looked black and simple until you got closer; his jacket gave him smooth lines, the silk iridescence of his collar was bordered in a deep, rich navy which translated into the lining, shining ever so slightly against his shirt in the lighting. The shirt was crisp and bright white – but the stitching black in contrast - the fabric of high quality, to let you know if for any reason you might want to rip through those buttons, it wouldn’t be happening easily. As both of you were having difficultly finding words, your dad stepped in. Introducing you like Danny was a friend and potential suitor; “Mr. Daniel Rayburn, allow me to introduce you to my daughter, Miss. Y/N Ervin.” Danny at least managed a laugh; “It is a pleasure. Although I do believe I’ve seen you around…” “…I was just about to comment it’s lucky I’m not single Mr.Rayburn… Though I’m not sure looking at you tonight that would stop me…” He held out his hand, as if for you to shake and you realised that your dad had not only leant him the car; he was wearing a Cartier watch. And your breath caught again as you pulled his hand towards you. “…Oh my god! DAD!!” Your dad laughed, Danny only looked a little confused, “…You gave him…!?!” The bracelet that your mother had given to you was clearly all part of the plan. Stupidly it hit you that Danny probably hadn’t even gone to the Restaurant today; the cufflinks that he was sporting matched the bracelet perfectly. They had always been your parent’s lucky combination… The fact you and Danny were now wearing them at their 35th wedding anniversary was no mere coincidence. As Danny turned your wrist in his, the significance hit him also. “Oh…” He turned to your father; “…I…” Jack Ervin just laughed, harder than before; Danny at a loss for words was a rare event. Which meant it was much more than just obvious how grateful he was. “Think nothing of it.” You took the opportunity of Danny’s attempt to express his gratitude to study Javi’s fine work closer. The bow-tie had the same gleaming effect running through it that his suit jacket did; but his belt… His belt held the unmistakable Zegna ‘Z’. Was this a big Ervin-Viva Caputa colab that you had missed out on!?! With that expensive glass of champagne in his hand, he certainly looked the part. And everyone on that boat knew it. And he was here, talking to you! “Okay. What the HELL did Javier even do?!” That got their attention back on you, but Danny only held his hands up innocently “I dunno! Ask him!” You then rounded on your father; “You let him DRIVE the Maserati!?” Your father looked like he was about to cry laughing “YES.” “Danny!!! Danny!! Dios Mio just LOOK at you!!” Your mother had swept through the crowd almost as easily as you. Her red dress exquisitely beautiful and looking like something a Flamenco dancer would wear, she embraced her favourite Rayburn and looked him over. She turned to you, because nothing got past her, and gave you an approving nod and wink. Before turning back to him, taking his face in her hands; “How is my boy?!” He laughed and pink dusted his cheeks, “I’m… I’m good! Yeah!” He took her hands in his; “How are you? Oh my gosh – Yeah! Happy Anniversary! Both of you! Congratulations!” “Oh-! It’s nothing! It’ll go quick!” She beamed, but your father made sure to at least thank Danny. Before your mother took your hand and placed it in Danny’s “Enough from us!! This should be a celebration of everyone in our family!” She gave a wink to Danny, who gave another slightly embarrassed laugh “You look like the most important man in the room. This is good! It suits you! Muy muy guapo!” Then she took your fathers hand and dragged him away from you both.

Danny blinked a few times and turned to you, still watching them leave… And it took you a while to pull your eyes back to him, although you knew you weren’t the only one staring; Tonight his intense blue eyes were softer, they matched his demeanour rather than his sharp suit; “I can’t breathe you look SO good.” “I feel it…” He ran a hand over his chest, “But I can’t say it’s me…” You laughed “…I’d rather be on this boat with you in a T-Shirt over this too… I know what’s you. I love you because you are you.” “Still…” He scanned the party, “I think I’ve managed to make an impression on them… And you…” He tipped his expensive glass and whistled “A significant portion of people want to BE me. For once…” he couldn’t help laughing; “You are, as always, stunning…” “Stop…” You murmured it, pushing gently against him, which made him laugh again; “No way… Not tonight… I’m lucky to get to show you off…” “You!?” You shook your head as he wound his arm around you and pulled you in so that he could kiss your forehead “…Baby, no, tonight I get to show you off! I am the Lucky one.” Without your parents here you suddenly remembered the exactly reason you’d thought about inviting him in the first place. “AH!” You made him jump at your suddenly exclamation and the way you held his shoulders “…I asked you here to meet my friends; right!?” “Well, it’s not like I haven’t…” “Yeah, but…” You made a face that said not really “…And you do NOT have to answer all their questions…! In fact, please DON’T.” “Oh, What kinda conversation is this gonna be?” He raised an eyebrow suggestively; but that just made you agree with him. “Yeah. It’s gonna be exactly that.” You turned to Amanda and Evie, and then almost found yourself with a smug smirk at the way they were both staring at Danny. Caught up in that thought, it was him who waved to them both; making them give each other the same look and him stifle a laugh. “Do I have to fend these two off?” “…Hey. I saw you first.” You nudged him into quiet agreement as they came over at your beckon. “I know we’ve done drinks… Kinda… But, Amanda, Evie – Danny. Danny, my two best friends.” Then you added a warning; they all had great ammunition on you the other party could use, “The three of you collude on anything – Not kidding, you’re going overboard…!”

 They loved him, it wasn’t surprising to you that they did. Considering that you were pretty sure they also both wanted to date him. It was the impression you’d got that very first time. The impression didn’t change now. Your friends might have been from this world and have long strings of high-class toy boys. But they found it refreshing that Danny was a down to Earth, Southern working boy from the Keys. And older. The more he talked, the more impressive the looks they kept giving you were. He’d passed the best friends test; you knew he would. The two most important people on this ship to you loved him. And your parents loved him… More importantly than that, Danny had done all that hard work himself. Showed what the Rayburn’s really knew…

You introduced him to many members of your family. Danny even managed to stumble through some basic – if not broken, but incredibly polite – Spanish to your fathers’ mother. She had her husband and son to look out for her, so she’d never really had to learn English. Which means every time she turned to you to pay Danny another compliment, making you go bright red and laugh, she completely lost him. Which was great, because every time she did you could see him desperately wanting to ask you what she said. From your father’s father Danny figured where you’d both got your business head from. A retired self-made business man, and extremely proud of his son’s success – and that his son had surpassed him. Although, he had that American patriarchal air that demanded respect from everyone. In a different way from his own father, Danny noted quickly – he could see exactly where Jack had learned to be a man. All at once he was grateful for your family – at the acceptance he seemed to be receiving even from those on the extended side… Maybe he’d finally get the family he always wanted… Dinner was a little different and overly formal. Walking around a party hand in hand with you, and a glass of something strong to calm his nerves, worked on Danny like a charm. But here, sitting in a suit and surrounded by topical conversation of those living the high-life he had very little opinion on ,or stomach for, made Danny look uncomfortable. You noticed it straight away, so you moved your chair closer to his and spent a lot of time with your hand resting comfortingly on his thigh. When he could, his hand would find yours and you could almost feel the nerves. Every so often you’d whisper comforting phrases to him or give him context – because he would be expected to talk. He seemed to position himself as a say little but say something that sounds profound. And it was expertly done; although there was a little shake to his voice from time to time. You knew that would bother him – but he was so far out of his comfort zone now you couldn’t help but be proud. Of course, as ever your father and mother were on hand to help out and you would pick up pieces of his sentences to elaborate on. When they asked about his family, he got into his element because no word of that was stretched truth; he came from this – even if it was different in the Keys. Eventually though, he got back into his nervous ticks and the two of you drifted from the main table conversation into your own world; he held your hand even tighter and he tried not to look like he was getting the I need a cigarette jitters… You kept him steady until most of the table began to disperse. To which he breathed a sigh of relief and you gathered him gently in your arms. He wouldn’t have to suffer much longer… You hoped.

** Later that evening, as you still hadn’t left the table (Danny needed that quiet…), further family members began to wonder exactly who your man was. That left you sitting with Danny and your aunts. Your father was an only child, but your mother came from a family of 4 sisters. She was the youngest. They were all fussing over him and asking questions; at first they were the right kinds of questions, where he grew up, what he did before Miami, where he lived now, what he was doing now… and then they weren’t… where did he attend college… what car did he drive… what was his job… what was his salary..? At the point he said he was the chef, and not the owner/manager – although really Danny was both – and then they broke into the salary question Danny cleared his throat, you could tell that made him uncomfortable…  And you didn’t like that… Putting your hand on his knee again you pulled him back to you; “Baby… Do you mind getting me a drink?” He looked more than grateful; kissing your cheek gently, “Sure thing, I’ll be back…!” He took his leave politely and wandered off. You took a breath – and turned back to the table. They were also watching him walk away with some interest. Although as soon as he was out of earshot they all turned to look at you, and the conversation continued. In Spanish. “Isn’t he too old for you!?” That first shot hurt, but it didn’t hit as hard at the others; “There is no way he makes enough for you to both live comfortably on.” “…And he’s living in downtown…” “He must have borrowed that suit…” “Agreed, he looks so awkward in it… He can’t be from here…” “-And the car!” “Y/N, really… He didn’t even get a college degree?” You could hardly believe what you were hearing. SURELY, SURELY your family could not be as bad as the Rayburns!?! In fact, this was WORSE. Because the Rayburns didn’t say it out loud. “You can do better… Look at the men around here…! What about the men you work with!?” What hurt even more is that they actually tried to make themselves sound sympathetic towards you; like Danny was just a mistake you’d made. No – your mistake was clearly thinking this was a good idea, and forcing Danny to be here with you in the first place. You stood in one movement. Attempting to swallow the lump in your throat. “You’re right. I can do better. And so can he!” You left, but you didn’t get very far before you got upset and started crying. Unfortunately for you, Danny was just strolling back to your table. When he saw you, his face became instantly worried and he attempted to catch your arm; “Y/N… What’s wrong!?” But you didn’t want to make a scene here… It was your parents anniversary after all. You shook your head and ran quickly for the stairs to the lower level rooms. He wasn’t the only one to notice that you were clearly upset. As he called after you, Amanda and Evelyn rushed to him. “What happened?!” “…I dunno… She…!” He hesitated… Putting the glass he was holding down, he followed you “Y/N! Wait!” You locked yourself in one of the bathrooms and sat down. Just a few deep breaths. Just a few deep breaths… that’s all it would take. Hot tears stung your eyes as you tried your best not to ruin your makeup by having them stream all over your face. You were angry, at them for saying those things. At everyone else here for clearly thinking it – you’d seen the way some of them were looking at him like he wasn’t good enough for you… - At yourself, for not standing up for the man you loved SO much. You wanted to yell at all of them. Danny didn’t have to be here. He’d be having a better time anywhere else in the world right now than being in that suit on this ship. But he was here for YOU. He was dressed up for YOU. They weren’t worthy of his time or his presence here… Hell, they didn’t deserve to be in the same room as him. Danny loved you dearly, he had a better heart and mind than half those people on deck… His family couldn’t see that either; you didn’t know why you’d expected Miami socialites to be any different. You heard a knock at the door; “Y/N… C’mon… What’s wrong…” Now he sounded visibly upset, which didn’t help you. You found yourself holding back sobs. “…Baby…” his voice was soft “…Baby, I’m here… C’mon…” You heard other hushed voices, and he replied to them. They were both female. Of course Amanda and Evelyn would be just as concerned. He knocked again; “Y/N… Darlin’… Open the door… Let me in… Or… Let them in… I don’t know, just… Baby please don’t cry…” Saying that made you actually sob. And you heard the noise he made. “…Y/N… Please… I’m right here… Sweetheart… I’m here…” Only now you continued to sob. You heard a fourth set of footsteps and the hushed voices fell silent for a minute… Three sets of footsteps disappeared… Then there was another knock. “Danny? Girls? What happened?” “We don’t know… Y/N got upset and ran down here… Danny followed her, we wanted to support her too…” Danny moved away from the door and bit his lip, “She’s cryin’…” Jack noticed that Danny looked like he was about to tear up too… “Okay… Go back to the party all of you… It’ll be alright… I’ll get her out…” The two girls left, looking to him sympathetically. Danny was reluctant, but followed. Jack placed a hand on his shoulder; “Danny… I’m sorry…” “For what?” “...I know this isn’t easy for you…” “I’m not doing this for me, I’m doing it for her.” Jack nodded “I know. And you have no idea how much I appreciate all you do for her… I’m very proud that you are with my daughter…” “…Thank you?” Danny wasn’t exactly sure how he was supposed to react. Jack just smiled, like he understood how Danny was feeling; “Whatever they say… Hers will always be the only opinion that matters.” “I agree…” Danny said it softly, but then smiled “I… Kinda think that yours matters too…” Jack laughed. “You’re too good. Mr.Rayburn. Too good. Wait at the top of the stairs, I’ll have her back to you in 5…” With that, Danny headed back to the top deck, and your father tapped on the bathroom door. “Y/N.” Oh, great. Way to ruin your parents party by having your dad find you crying in a bathroom… “Open the door. I’m the only one here…” You reached up and unlocked it. He slid it open, shaking his head. It hurt him to see you like this as much as it did Danny and your friends. He shut the door behind him and locked it, sitting next to you he took you in his arms and handed you his pocket handkerchief. “Estrella… What’s wrong? What happened? Who said it?” “Who said what…?” You dabbed at your cheeks to stop your tears ruining any more of your makeup than they already had. “I’ve been watching all night, to know that you have been watching all night. I’ve seen the way they look at him too…” You didn’t answer, still sniffing away… “…You know. Your mothers’ sisters never liked me either. Hated me in fact. I was a nothing too. I could dance, great, but how was that going to make a good living?” He knew exactly what had happened. You wondered if your father was protecting Danny just as much as you were. He chuckled; “Better believe that all changed when I was able to get them into places like this…” He shook his head “…Why they act so high and mighty I don’t know… They’re not exactly from the echelons of Miami either…” He rubbed your arm affectionately. “Your mom’s father however… Now of course no man was ever good enough for his youngest… But… All he cared about was how I was going to treat her… He knew there was more value in love than money. Still, Jorge decided that maybe I ought to earn something if I wanted to raise a family…” “…You built the business… for mom?” He shrugged “For mom and you… When you came along. The point is, I value what her father values…” You raised an eyebrow; “So… He’s not good enough for me?” He laughed; “No one will ever be good enough for you, until one is. And… he IS.” He brushed some of your hair back into place; “I believe I’m right if I make the statement Danny is the best thing that ever happened to you…” “He is…” You didn’t hesitate. You knew that. Like fact. “Then, he is more than good enough for you. And I will let those hateful bitches know that myself.” You choked on something between a sniff and a laugh; “Papa. I probably wouldn’t say that to their faces!” “Watch me.” He smiled; “For the record. Danny is better than ¾ of the people out there.” “They’re your friends.” Weren’t they? People your parents liked? “…They’re friends we have to make. The society in which we live. We all know who the real friends are…” He fumbled around in his pocket; “…The whos-who… Probably not to be associated with after tonight…” “Because of how they are treating Danny!?” “…Something like that…” He twirled what looked like a pen, and held it out to you “I don’t want anyone I know, or invited tonight, to cause anything to happen between the two of you. You are happy. The happiest I’ve ever seen you, and I’ll be damned if I let some high-and-mighty socialite ruin that… For either of you.” You laughed, realising he was holding out liquid eyeliner, you took it with a grateful smile; “I thought you might be crying over something else, tonight… So… I thought I’d keep it just in case. You don’t look too bad. Touch it up, but hurry now, your man is waiting…” You dried your eyes one final time before he helped you stand up. You embraced him; “Gracias Papa!” “It’s nothing… Not for my little girl…” He exited the bathroom and then turned back “He looks good in YSL don’t you think?” You turned to the mirror, yeah; a little bit of a touch up and you’d be fine. “…He looks a bit awkward. He was carrying it well, then when we all sat he looked uncomfortable… Now he’s standing again he’ll…” You looked to your fathers face; “What?! I have to admit that! He’d rather be in a T-shirt, or chefs whites c’mon daddy…!” “…You noticed what he’s wearing didn’t you.” “He’s wearing your watch…” You let the eyeliner glide smoothly as you began touching up “…He’s wearing the cufflinks that match this bracelet, don’t think I don’t know what you and mom are up to…” you smiled. “…Yes. Mr. Daniel Rayburn looks fantastic. He really does. But it’s not him, and he knows it’s not him.” “…And so do you, so, tell him to be comfortable... He looks awkward because he’s trying to make that suit look natural. He is wearing it, it is not wearing him.” “Then YOU tell him that. He respects you.” “But he loves YOU. We both know he didn’t turn up to this party for your mother and I… He came because you didn’t want to turn up with anyone else…” When you reached the top of the stairs, Danny was indeed waiting for you, and you weren’t even on the top step before he’d gathered you in his arms again; “Are you Ok?” “Yeah… God, I’m sorry… I just…” You shook your head, “I know… This isn’t you… And you want to be anywhere else right now… I’m sorry I made you come here… and wear a suit and…” He shook his head, and his smile was brilliant. “Baby girl… I am here… with YOU… You look amazing, and I am proud to look at least half decent next to you… Darlin’… When you are here, make no mistake, there is no place on Earth I would rather be than right here with you in my arms…” “But they-” “I know. I’ve only been used to it my entire life…” He shrugged, and rolled his eyes “What is one more night.” “Tonight wasn’t meant to be one more night, though, it was meant to be your night off…” “Tonight is very much a night on…” He guided you through the crowd, his hand respectfully around your waist “…Overtime…! Tomorrow, we will have a lazy day… on the couch… watch movies… I might even consider ordering take out… God, what am I saying…!” You wrapped your arms around him as you continued to walk… Funny thing was, you knew that would be a better day than you would ever have hanging out with half the people here tonight. Guests had begun to gather around the bottom of the stairs with drinks. You guessed your parents were about to make their big toast… You both collected your own drinks and found Amanda and Evie. Both glad you were okay, even more glad you were back in Danny’s arms.

“…I want to give a toast to the best thing that ever happened to us over the past 35 – married – years… Our daughter-” oh God! You placed one hand to your forehead – Here we go! You weren’t surprised that Danny led the cheer on that one. Your father continued his speech, making increasingly embarrassing anecdotal comments about your first steps, first words, your first car and teaching you how to drive (the red tape mark and the boat thankfully remained buried and your Rayburn boys were sworn to absolute silence), college degree, graduation, first job… promotion… Everything part of a world Danny wasn’t from. But Danny, seeing the look on his face, was living all of those moments with your father… He couldn’t be prouder of the person Jack was talking about, even though he wasn’t a part of any of it. He couldn’t be any prouder of you. That he got to experience you. “But I didn’t want to make a toast just to our daughter, on an anniversary, right!?” Your father laughed and left a pause for emphasis; “I also wanted to make a toast to the best thing to ever happen in her life…” You felt Danny hold his breath as you looked to him; your father was really toasting him!? “So…” Your father raised his glass with a wink; “Mr.Danny Rayburn… I want to thank you for putting that smile back on me daughters face, I’m grateful for the way she talks about you… For you bringing her down to Earth, because you did that when she needed it most…” He laughed “I… Just hope I get to make many more of these!” You and Danny shared a significant look; doubtless your dad was thinking about Wedding speeches already. Your dad took a sip of his drink through the applause, with Amanda and Evelyn pushing Danny’s shoulders with a bit of pride of their own (they’d seen this through from the beginning, after all), and just when you thought he might switch subjects, he continued; “…I ALSO want to say a big thank you to Danny and his incredible team at Viva Caputa! Thank you for the catering tonight!” Another round of applause went up and you turned, quick; “What!?” Danny raised his glass to your father; you smacked his arm “WHAT?! Why didn’t you TELL ME!” “Mmmm… Mmmm…!” Danny shook his head like that one was remaining a secret. “Oh my god! I can’t believe it!” He laughed, murmuring; “It’s Ok… The guys have a well-deserved day off…” Danny had his arms around you for the duration of your parents’ speeches and toasts, every so often he would brush his fingers against your side gently, calming… Like he was never going to let you go... In a room full of people like this, you belonged here with him.

**

 Your parents took centre stage and held each other. Barely a breath was taken over the hushed crowd as they recognised the stance instantly. The way your heart skipped as the music swelled. They were about to perform the dance that had won them state… AND nationals, and had put your parents on the map. Everyone in the dance world knew them because of these very moves. It was your favourite; because of the story it told. Every time they performed it they added a slightly different element, because it was about them. About their relationship; and of course, in 35 years plus of performing this that relationship had grown and changed…

Danny nudged you, making you look at him; “What?” “We should…” he tilted his head to the dancefloor, you looked back to your parents, the next graceful turn they made. It was all so natural to them… Look at the way they looked at each other… Was that how you looked at Danny when you were in his arms like that? “No… This is them… It’s all them…” “Trust me… We should…” “Danny..?!” He took your hand, with confidence and pulled you out. He was crazy, this was THE dance, this was your parents dance.  If you were going to go onto the dancefloor at all, it wouldn’t be this early! You did trust him, though, implicitly. You took a breath and watched him pick up the next bar of music, the way he moved. Then you realised, he wasn’t just matching the music… He was matching your dads’ movements. OH MY GOD--!? No way, your parents--- Did your parents teach HIM this!? He held out his hand, and you took it, instinctively. You knew this dance off by heart, you couldn’t believe that your parents would be this sneaky… But your heart… You couldn’t have loved any of them any more than you did right then…

 *** You approached him again. You'd been trying to help your parents usher people off the ship or get them home safe. This left Danny to his thoughts... Something you weren't always sure was good... He hadn't touched his shoulder all evening, which was a good start. But it also wasn't like you hadn't noticed him sneaking his painkillers every so often either. "Darlin'..." He turned back to you from looking at the city lights, as you wound your arms around him, he had a cigarette in his hand and you were glad he was unwinding... He'd lost his tie; his top shirt buttons were undone and all at once you knew he was more comfortable. "You ready to go?" "Mmmhn?" He looked around at the remaining guests. "It's not over yet?" You shrugged "It is for me..." He looked to his half-finished glass and gave his own shrug, placing it on the nearest table he took your hand in his; "Better say goodbye to your parents. Is there anything we need to take back?" "Don't think so... We can always head down tomorrow... It’s not like this liner is GOING anywhere..."

Danny called your dad over; "Thanks, again, it’s been great." "Come now, Danny, it’s always my pleasure. I'm glad you came." He nodded to you "She's even more so... It'll be smaller next year!" He made the promise like Danny's presence would be concrete. You liked that. Your dad embraced you. "Estrellita... You have yourself one hell of a man... You are lucky." "I know papa..." "With any luck, one day you'll get your own one of these... Then you can learn from my mistakes..." "Oh. Y’know... Only around 34 years to go... Then..." He looked to Danny, then continued in Spanish "Don't let this one go...!" "I don't intend to..."

Your mother hurried over upon realising you were both leaving "Oh...!!! No!! Not my favourite daughter and her other half!" "Mom I'm your only daughter!" "Yes, well, I'm more concerned over our Danny here...! You won't stay?" “If she calls it I'm following her, M'am!" Maria was obviously disappointed as she embraced him "You really outdid yourself tonight Danny, in every capacity. You should be really proud of yourself." "Ah! It was nothing...!" His smile was shy and you could swear that red was crossing his cheeks for once. "No. It was everything!!" She smiled, then turned to you, as your dad also embraced Danny tight. "My darling girl... My sisters they..." "Mama I know..." She gave you a look that let you know there was possibly a world of hell coming "... You will look after him?" "Always." "He will certainly look after you." She smiled "... I could not have wished for better for you..." Honestly what was with your parents!? It was like he had gotten down on one knee already. They were almost definitely hoping for it. Geez... They were probably planning it all in their heads already. But you were sure neither of you were ready for that. "Oh!" Danny held out the Maserati keys "Better give these back..." Your dad didn't hold his hand out, rather backed away; "What? It's not like anyone else will be driving her tonight." Danny froze and looked at him like he was insane "No! Jack-! I can’t-!" Your father winked, patting him on the shoulder "Go on. Take her out. You deserve it!"

*

Danny stared hard at the car as he unlocked it; "Is this a good idea?" "How many have you had?!" "Like... More than should be allowed, but I'm lucid, is this legal?!" You noticed that someone, somewhere had changed the number plates back to your dads. "...Either my dad has a city agreement..." it wouldn’t surprise you "Or its going to be one of those legal for rich people fines..." Danny raised a questioning eyebrow, but now wasn't the time to get into those details. You both entered the sleek, stylish Maserati and he turned the key in the ignition. Making the "oh." sound that turned him into another boy-with-a-toy at the hum of the engine. You could hardly believe your dad was about to let him take you on a thrill ride in THIS car. "You ever actually driven a supercar before!?" He noticed the way you checked your belt more than once. "...Yeah, I drove this down here didn't I?" "Carefully, like your life depended on it, I bet!!" "My life DOES depend on it.” He looked to the dashboard "Sorry this can go HOW fast!?" "Don't you DARE!" "Oh God! How many of these are there, 100?" He put the car in gear and laughed nervously, checking around he reversed smoothly out of the parking space "...There'll be 99 after tonight!" "Don't say that!" Your voice practically pitched, and he took a deep breath. "I made a promise to get her back in one piece. I have a feeling your dad didn't mean the car...." You were watching him very carefully. Although he looked a little jumpy, and his eyes held all the excitement he wasn’t allowing to show on his face, he was checking and double checking every road and mirror as he pulled out of the Marina. He tapped the screen and the SatNav flickered into life; "Ah ha..." "Daniel. Eyes on the road..." He rolled his eyes "Back to Daniel, am I?" He took your hand "Darling." He emphasised the G like he was trying to be sophisticated "Would you please zoom out the navigation system so I can see the appropriate stretch of road." You were staring at him like he was crazy "I certainly will... On one condition." "Which is?" He leant over towards you, but kept his eyes on the road "Drive with two hands, and STOP talking like that." Danny laughed hard; "I’m trying to be the kind of man that owns one of these.” "Then you missed the point! My dad just wants you to be YOU." "And what do you want…?" He glanced at the screen to watch the road that headed up the coast line and onto the interstate, where he would really let this car fly... You smiled across at him "...Well. I know who I fell in love with. That's all I ever asked for.” "...I don't think he exists anymore..." "Hmm!?"             "... You already made him a better man..." He paid attention to his mirrors again and blatantly didn't look at you "...So he just hopes you’re still in love with him." You shook your head, what was with Danny tonight? Did it had something to do with your dumb crying episode, which you were now SO over. "You tell him not to worry...." You looked out to sea, dark, the waves every so often lit by street lamps "...I'm not sure I've ever loved anyone more than I do him..."

You continued to stare out of the window as he brought the car up to the increasing speed limit – affording him to look back to you. Every moment he spent with you he tried to savour, if only life had a pause button he knew he’d find himself pressing it often. He’d always thought this was way too good to last… But he was also quick to realise that he could probably put you through anything, not that he would want to, but your versatility would allow him to – AND let him find you still holding onto his hand at the end of it all. Somehow this was working out for him; you, Nolan, the restaurant. Suddenly he stopped looking for all the things that could go wrong – and was starting to allow himself to enjoy everything that was going right… You wound the window down as the engine revved at the gaining speed, allowing the cool evening air that rushed past you to fill the car. Danny continued to carefully push the car into the next set of numbers – when they started to turn red at the top end of the speedometer he held his hand out for yours. “I’m scared of what you’re about to do…” He laughed, “You just gotta trust me.” You took his hand in answer and the next thing you knew the car was more than flying as he broke into triple figures. You found yourself getting that shot of adrenalin as the world passed you by in a blur, flashes of colour every so often melding into the dark of the evening. “Oh My God!!” You couldn’t help but let out something akin to a scream, which only made him laugh harder as he continued to let the speed climb. Even with just one hand on the wheel; he managed to hold the car steady. And even with his hand in yours his eyes were focused on nothing but the road.

He took it back down in notches, almost letting the car coast until the dash started to read something more sensible. Both of you were near breathless and he let your hand go; looking across to you. “Guess there’s still 100 of these!” You put a hand to your heart; “I think my heart is going at the number of miles an hour you were just at.” He chuckled; “That was good fun!” “Don’t be getting ideas.” “Aw, and here I was thinking about taking the Porsche out…” “Hands off the 911 Mr!!” “MMM… Careful…” He produced the keys from his pocket; spinning the keychain around his index finger; “Wait WHAT!?” “You forgot about it. I didn’t.” “Danny you are NOT driving that car.” He looked across to you almost disbelieving; “C’mon! What is one more joyride?” You tipped your head; thinking that phrase was a double entendre “Take me home and I’ll consider it.” “Hm.” He acted like it was a hard choice “Ok… Home…” He looked to the time on the illuminated clock; “Yeah… let’s… go home…” Then he looked across to you like he was about to say something impressive; “Our home.”

 * The Anniversary the year after had been a smaller affair with closer friends and family. As had happened with your surprise birthday party (you still weren’t forgiving anyone for that!) and Nolan’s birthday, Danny had closed down his restaurant for the evening. That also meant your parents got to invite his whole team (And Nolan, but that was given.) – especially after the efforts for their 35th. “Well, Danny… Team… You’ve all outdone yourselves once again!” Danny wasn’t one to be shy, but this time when he smiled to your dad’s compliment, he looked to the table… “Aw… It was nothin’…” He laughed “We’re happy to. You guys have given me the best time of my life. Honestly, I can’t thank you enough!” He had his arm over the back of your chair, barely moving from touching you or being that close all evening… You loved and trusted this whole group. None of them were judgemental. With time, and it wouldn’t be much longer, Danny would love them all too and accept that he was somewhere he finally belonged. It wasn’t a class, or a title, not even a name… But friends and family, real family. Sometimes family didn’t have to be blood relatives, after all. “To Y/N, and Danny. Thank you for everything, and I truly mean everything, over the past 2 and a half years….” Then he laughed again “2 and a half! Wait until it’s 35!”

*

Present Day – Your Apartment, PM

Even with the AC on nearly as high as it would go, with Danny all over you it was still SO hot in your apartment. Not that in the literal heat of the moment you particularly cared but hell… It was making your short breaths even shorter. Wrapped up in your white sheets on one such Sunday morning was where you found yourself today. “Danny… it’s… too hot…” You were breathless as much as you were laughing as he kept kissing you. The man was nothing if not persistent. Your bedroom window was open, as was the balcony door and you still had the AC cranked and you were still falling victim to the Miami sun. “Baby girl, trust me, there is NOTHING as hot as you…” Aw Geez… How the hell was this not affecting him too? Was he just so used to working out in it at the Keys? Or in a hot kitchen day-in-day-out in the middle of summer? Both. You guessed. Your office was air conditioned, your car was air conditioned... You only had to face the heat on the short walk from one to the other or when you wanted to face it on a beach. This was neither of those things. You laughed again as he kissed the base of your neck; “Alright, quit it!” “Nah…” He bit your collar bone harder than he perhaps meant to, judging by the resulting gasp from you. “…You need to know…” He kissed up your neck and then your jaw line to your lips; “…You’re so fucking hot.” “Yeah, that’d be the weather…!” You giggled again. “Or you?” “Mmm…” He gave you a playful smirk; “Well, hell, I know exactly how I make you feel…” There was no better feeling than being one with Danny. Now in a different way to how you were one and the same on the dance floor, but it gave you the same sensation none the less. Tangled up with him like this, even with it being too damn hot, made you feel like there was no place on Earth worth being than here. Oh-! “…That was…” “What?” You said it under your breath, but Danny Rayburn thought he caught on anyway… His blue eyes were alert, bright and intelligent and cool as the Miami water. “Sorry. Did you just say, sexy?”

Your problem now was… How many more times were you going to get to do this? Fast running out of lazy days where you could just DO this. I mean, in his parent’s house in the Keys!?!? Was Danny thinking straight?? Did he really know what he was doing…? Did he honestly think it was best for everyone for him to be heading there…?

@stcphstrange - I read a good portion of these paragraphs whilst editing and immediately thought of you... ���❤😚

I use these GIFs you keep seeing because when I see them I think of the way I think of him looking at Reader... And I have a lot of feelings...!

*AFTER EDIT - 8/6/19* OKAY. So, those of you that have read this before now... I’m so so sorry you’re likely to miss this. But. The gorgeous Amanda (my Amanda, not readers Amanda... but if she wants to date Javi that’s fine by me!) presented me with this GIF of Mr.Mendelsohn. and HOLY SHIT If it isn’t Danny (and what he’s WEARING!) in this part!!!

[sweetlittlehawke]

Keep Moving Forward

It’s December. Yknow what that means! Let’s reflect on the year. When I made  a post like this last year, it was a hopeful thing. I was excited about the coming year, because I was excited that I’d finally met some people I could hang out with. I love Alea and Brooke to the moon and back, but only having two friends for most of my life is not the best. As much as I denied it for years, my mum’s right. I’m very social. I have social anxiety. But I am a very social person. So, if you wanna read about all that, it’s under a read more. Cause fucking hell did this get long.

So, this year started and I was single, I was in Unity, I was in school, and I was living with my parents. By May I was not single and I was not in Unity. Shortly after that- because end of the semester and stuff and things happening- I was no longer in school or living with my parents. At this point in the year, I’m still not single, nor in Unity (as I doubt I’ll ever go back. To the troupe at least, I absolutely wanna go back to taking classes), or in school. But I have plans to go back to school. I’m halfway to being able to afford a car, and then saving for an apartment, so Sammy and I can go to Cleveland. Because I wanna be close to my friends. I don’t like most of the people I live with presently, and neither does Sam. So we’re gonna move out in July when the lease is up on our place. 

When I made this post last year, I talked about the only table top rpgs I’d played was a D&D 5e oneshot, a game of Roll for Shoes, and was just then stepping into a campaign. Needless to say, that changed. A lot. I’ve played West Marches to it’s end. I’ve been in Alex’s Pathfinder campaign for a year. I spent a semester in Andrew’s Pathfinder campaign (and met my girlfriend through that). I’ve spent two semesters in Jacob’s 5e campaign. I’ve started a campaign of my own at Breakout to get those people into D&D. I’ve gone so far with this, and I love it. I love every second of it. I also mentioned that I’d kinda started in Magic, but hadn’t put any money towards it. That didn’t last either. I’ve built my own custom deck, and that def required spending money. Once Andrew got me a starter deck it was downhill from there. I don��t play a ton, but Magic def did get my interest.

Last year I kinda just made lil shoutouts to Scott, Trevi, and Andrew. But this year I have so many more people to talk about, and to be thankful for. Because they’re not just new people that I’m kinda sorta friends with. They’re my family. So lemme go through this. Lemme take a bit, to talk about this gaggle of people I’ve found, that I love. 

It’s primarily the Pathfinder group. The original Pathfinder group. Alex, Jacob, Andrew, Thomas, Susannah, Molly, and Will. Most of these people are also the people in West Marches, but there are some West Marches people that aren’t in Pathfinder. People like Joey and Adriana, Freddie, Michael, and of course, Trevi and Scott. Now, to go into detail about the specific people, and why I love them.

Alex is just, great. I don’t always feel like I’m super close with him, but he does pay attention to everyone in the group. We recently had a session that really hit that fact home. It was a Christmas session, because it’s December what else are we gonna do? Each of our characters had gifts, and these gifts meant something to each of us. Outside of games though, he’s just as attentive. He’s always supportive, and very understanding of when people need distance or aid. He’s encouraging, and frankly I’m not sure I’ve ever heard him say something bad against anyone. Ambiguous maybe, but never bad.

Jacob- fucking hell this guy. He’s literally the sweetest man I’ve ever met. He’s always trying to help, and encourage people. If he knows he’s done something wrong he apologizes and does whatever it takes to fix it. He knows I’m short on money, so whenever I’m around he’s always offering to buy me food- or just straight up give me his food. He even bought Sammy’s Christmas present for me, because I’m just too broke to do it. I don’t understand how someone can be that selfless?? Jacob wtf?? You’re too good??

Andrew. What an asshole. I love him though. He- quite frankly- is half the reason I’m so close with the Pathfinder group. I befriended him easier than I befriended the others. He’s the one that got me into Pathfinder. At first he seems quiet, and kinda apathetic, he’s incredibly forgetful. But he cares. I got scared one time that I’d fucked up a friendship, and in his awkward Andrew way, he gave me 3 Magic cards and a hug as comfort. It may not sound like much, but giving away Magic cards is a big deal for Andrew. This nerd is also the reason I met my girlfriend, so yknow.

Admittedly, I’m not as close with Thomas as I am some of the others. His personality clashes with mine, so I don’t typically talk to him one on one. But he’s part of the group. We all poke fun at him, but we all poke fun at everyone. This family of ours wouldn’t be the same without him. It’d be too quiet.

Susannah is a darling. I haven’t seen her as much recently, because she dropped out of the Pathfinder campaign, and I haven’t been at school. But we still talk from time to time here on tumblr, or the very rare occasion we see each other on campus we always stop to give each other a hug and say hello. Because our friend group had a hellish spaghetti mess of relationships, and we had a good relationship through that. The guy I liked liked her, and it was kinda rough, but we just helped each other. Then when that spaghetti mess was over, and I was getting with Sammy, she was one of the people I’d text like “Holy shit Sam is so cute HELP”

Molly is the best. She- like Susannah- isn’t in Pathfinder this semester, so I haven’t seen her as much. But she had a similar position in the spaghetti mess but without being so tied to me. She just was right next to Susannah and was super supportive as well. She was the other person I texted about Sam. Cause group chats. I’d text her and Susannah together. But even though we don’t see each other a ton, we’re still close. Hell we’re looking at getting an apartment together next summer.

I really never think I’m that close to Will. He’s very quiet, and he’s not very affectionate, so it’s sometimes hard to tell if he actually likes being around people or he’s just dealing with us. But, after a year of being around him, I’m pretty sure he does actually like us. I think he’s just introverted. He doesn’t want to get in people’s way, so he sits to the side and is quiet. But also, his character in Pathfinder was 110% tryna get another PC laid and Will and Susannah both were willing to let me in on that. So, yeah, pretty sure Will is cool with me. We just have different ways of showing that.

Joey and Adriana I’ll talk about together, because I swear these two are inseparable. When I first met them I thought they were dating, but no they’re just very affectionate- and I can’t blame them for that. I’m the same way with Scott and Trevi. I’ve still not gotten to talk to them a ton, but the conversations I’ve had with them have been good. They seem very light hearted on the surface, just comparing ourselves to our characters, but really that says a lot about us. 

Freddie and Michael, I’ll also put together. Not because they’re together all the time, but because I have less to say about them. I don’t know either as well, but they’re both very warm people. It’s easy to become friends with these two. Freddie loves to rub my hair, cause of course half of it is shaved. Michael’s just akin to a ray of sunshine tbh. 

Trevi. Where do I even start? To just say you’re my friend isn’t enough. You’re more than that. You’re fun to be around and talk to, and dance with. You’re relatable and silly and serious and helpful and supportive. You’ve given me a place to sleep when I was too tired to go home. When you graduated I was terrified of you leaving, either going back home or going out to Cali to get a doctorate, cause I knew you’d talked about it. I didn’t wanna lose you. I’d just gotten to know you. Then you stayed here, and I’m glad. Cause you’re my friend and I love you. A couple weeks ago as you were leaving you signed “I love you”. You had your back turned but there was a window in front of you, so idk if you saw, but I signed it back. Cause I really do.

Now Scott. You sir, have literally changed my life. I would not have met most of the people I’ve talked about. I’d have met Trevi, but without D&D as a common ground, idk that we’d have ended up so close. So thank you, for introducing me to D&D. Thank you for being my DM. Because honestly, no matter how many DMs I have, no matter how great they are. You will always be my DM, because you were the first. And now, you’re graduating. You’re leaving school, and you’re going to Columbia. I’m gonna miss you. As selfish as it is, I don’t want you to leave. I’m glad you’re going to keep moving forward, as we all should. But fucking hell will I miss you. You’ve led me on adventures, fighting monsters and demons, I’ve made pacts with Eldritch gods and become War itself. So you go. You go, live your adventures. Write your stories and play your parts. Keep Moving Forward. But you better get your ass back here and visit from time to time okay? Cause I’m gonna miss you. I’m gonna miss your free hugs, and the meowing, and the hair ruffles, and hugs so tight I feel like you’re bout to crack a rib, and the games, and the stories, and just everything. I’m gonna miss you, and I love you.

This past year, and every one of the people I’ve mentioned have changed me. There’s more people I could talk about. Alea, and Brooke, and Tommy, and Sammy, and Tahli, and Sebastian, and Kenna. My actual family. My cousin and my best friend, who I don’t feel the need to write about, because duh I appreciate them. Duh I love them. Tommy and Sammy who’ve both had their own impacts. Who have both changed my life in their own ways. Then Tahli, Kenna, and Sebastian. My nieces and nephew. Tahli, who wormed her way into my heart in an instant, and got me to a place where I actually cared for the other two. Because for so long I shrugged at Kenna. She lives across the country she’s not gonna know me. But then when Sebastian came along, I was so used to Tahli and her reaction any time I walk in the door. Then Sebastian got hurt, and it wrecked me. Because no, he’s tiny, he’s fragile, this shouldn’t happen to a six month old baby. I was so scared to hold him at Thanksgiving because I didn’t want to hurt him. 

I just. I love my friends. I love that I can say that. Because two years ago I hardly had friends to love, and I certainly didn’t feel like they should love me back. Last year I had a few more friends, and I was feeling a bit better about myself. But this year I’ve realized. It’s not just that I have friends that I love. But that they love me just as much. During intermediate acting Abby called me a yankee candle, cause I apparently had a warm, homey, aura. I felt like that was weird, cause I’m so used to being Shadow. I’m used to being ignore, glanced over. But then suddenly, I have friends that won’t do that. Friends that pay attention and love me. I’m still not sure how to handle that, but I’m doing the best I can. 

[samtheflamingomain]

0 reasons why

It's been about two and a half months since I was kicked out. I've told the story of how and why that happened, but since then I haven't posted much if anything.

A lot of it is because I've been incredibly busy and stressed, homeless and in the hospital. But it's been a week since I finally got settled. I've had a bad cold but I've also had a bad case of emotional numbness.

I've desperately needed to do some writing to process everything that's happened in the last few months but haven't felt like I could. I still don't, but it's time to give it a try.

After I was kicked out I spent two weeks living in a shitty run-down motel next to a strip club. I was confronted by pimps on my second day and was nearly arrested twice, but for some ungodly reason, looking back on the last 2.5 months, that's when I was happiest.

I kind of understand why; I'd been duped and brainwashed by my abusive parents my entire life and now I was seeing the light. I was frantically searching for a place to live before I ran out of time at the motel, but I found one, and that only amplified my happiness. Now I was going to get out on my own and truly start my life.

Only that didn't happen. What I thought was a "shared accommodations" apartment was actually classified as a boarding house because the landlord lived there and shared the kitchen with the boarders. Legally, I had no right to keep my cat there.

I informed my ex-mother of this fact and she threatened to throw out all my stuff, get rid of my cat, and cut off my phone service. In tears, I ran to the police station where they called my birthgivers to tell them they had to keep my stuff and cat until I found a place to keep them.

So round two of looking for a place to live had begun. It took longer this time but I eventually found two girls who were looking for a third roommate. We meshed well and they'd let me move in on April 1st.

I still had more than two weeks of having not much to do though; kind of where I'm at now but with better excuses: I didn't have my cat, most of my art supplies, or any money. I also knew that I desperately needed to be on different meds.

Let me interlude briefly here to explain in monotonous detail my med situation: in the past, I've been diagnosed with depression. I've since been diagnosed with bipolar and recently re-diagnosed with schizoaffective disorder. They're diagnostically very similar, so this distinction doesn't mean much in practice. I'm the kind of mentally ill where they do their best to treat the symptoms without worrying much about the label. Because my symptoms fulfill the requirements of almost every mental illness, and I'm not exaggerating.

There's also another diagnosis that's somewhat difficult to explain and impossible to treat medically: Reactive Attachment Disorder. I've written about it in the past so I won't bore you again, but basically it means my parents didn't parent right and as a result I don't love them and never did. When diagnosed in children, the treatment is taking the child from the abusive parents. Which I would've loved. I spent my entire childhood waiting for my parents to divorce, wishing I was an orphan, even wishing I'd wake up or come home and they'd be dead.

When it goes unnoticed till adulthood, the only thing that treats this attachment disorder is cutting ties with the parents and a metric fucktonne of therapy.

A bit of a tangent: has anyone read Sybil? I know a lot of people from my high school did because it was required reading for a popular course. It's about the titular character's child abuse manifesting itself as "multiple personalities" or dissociative identity disorder. In it, Sybil has a therapist that she sees almost every day. I remember thinking many things at the time of reading it, but two stand out: "Sybil's childhood was nothing compared to mine" and "I wish I could afford to see a therapist every day, lord knows I need it."

Anyway, back to my meds: I still need something for anxiety, something for sleep, and something for a symptom called mood lability: emotional disregulation. For me, this comes as a result of never learning about emotions or controlling them. Until I was 20, I had never even understood that thoughts are seperate from emotions. All I knew about controlling my emotions was that I should be able to do so at the drop of a hat, less my parents scream at me till I puked from crying so hard.

But you can't control your emotions, only how you react to and express them. So I learned as a young child how to do that, and the best way was to lie. I'm probably the best liar I know with the exception of my ex-father, who is a literal sociopath. I'm not. I feel guilt when I lie, but it became a necessary way of coping with my parents.

ANYWAY, back AGAIN to my meds. Mood lability is common in bipolar and schizoaffective and is treated by a mood stabilizer. In the past, psychiatrists would usually encounter me during a depressive phase, mark me as depressed, and put me on an antidepressant. I've been on every single SSR/NI and none have done a single damn thing. In 2015 I was referred to rTMS brain stimulation. I did it a year later. And at the end, I was manic, and diagnosed with bipolar.

Unfortunately, my psychiatrist didn't listen to the psychiatrist running the rTMS who rediagnosed me, and continued to ignore my pleas to put me on a mood stabilizer. After another 6 months of re-trying all the SSRIs I'd already tried, he referred me to ECT, a last-resort treatment that can cause permanent memory loss. That's when I begged my doctor to get me a new psychiatrist.

He did. Same drugs, same attitude, same bullshit.

I saw him the day before I was kicked out. He did nothing. I tried to kill myself twice the following week but the hospital wouldn't admit me because I was homeless. I came in a third time psychotic. They sent me home to lay in bed hallucinating and sobbing for 8 hours till I passed out. I saw the psychiatrist again, and I told him that I'd been kicked out and homeless and he told me, more or less, to save it for my therapist, he only dispensed drugs.

This brings us back to mid-March when I'd just gotten a place to live starting April first. Knowing the hospital wouldn't admit me, knowing the psychiatrist wouldn't change my meds, and knowing I couldn't deal with the insanely rapid-fire mood cycling I was going through, I slowly deterriorated mentally, only getting worse when my ex-mother told me she'd had a heart attack. That's when I saw a way out: to kill my ex-father.

He was the cause of all this. At first I lamented the idea that I'd caused her heart-attack, but if anything, he did. He's the one who cheated on her and he's the reason she kicked me out. He's the reason I'm a liar and an asshole and a generally awful person. Because I had to be those things to survive living with him. More than a few times, I've been afraid that he'd kill me in a bout of uncontrollable anger. He deserved it.

But I knew it was fucking insane. I wouldn't go to prison, so I knew I'd have to kill myself after doing it. But I also knew I wouldn't do it. I went back to the hospital for the forth time in a month.

Thankfully, because they give more of a shit about my waste-of-space ex-father's life than my own, threatening to kill someone gets you a bed on the psych ward much faster than threatening to kill yourself. Once I knew I was momentarily safe and that I'd likely walk out with new meds and a new psychiatrist, I felt instantly better. I was only there 4 days. I quickly came to the conclusion that it would actually be more merciful for me to kill him than to let him live out the rest of his short lifespan. 

(He's got a degenerative disease called ankylosing spondalitis. Since age 25, his vertebrae have been slowly, painfully fusing together to form one giant spine bone. He won’t make it to 65. He can't bend his back and some days he can barely walk it's so painful. I'm glad.)

It takes a certain kind of person to enjoy someone else's pain, but I know I'm not evil because of it. I still pity my ex-mother because she's going to have to be in emotional pain for the rest of her life and I will never, ever forgive her for chosing him over me. I don't enjoy thinking about anyone else in pain except him. Because he truly, truly deserves it. 

I was prescribed a mood stabilizer on March 20th, got a new psychiatrist for March 31st, and a new sleeping pill on that same date. I moved the next day and couldn't fill the prescription until I moved, then the pharmacy said they'd have to order my new sleeping pill. So, on April 2nd, just a day after moving in, I went to the wine store, bought a bottle of 20% fortified wine, drank it in 2 hours, found rope in the garage and tried to hang myself.

One of the roommates heard my desperate pleas for death to envelope me, came in and pulled me down. When she went for her phone, I went for my razor and cut my arm wide open.

I was taken to the hospital by ambulance and sewn up, but left to suffer a psychotic episode in the waiting area for 4 hours till I passed out. I was there for over 15 hours, given no pain meds, no food, and none of my regular medication. I didn't even have my phone or wallet on me. The psychiatrist released me the next morning. I was only able to get back "home" thanks to a friendly patient giving me some money for the bus.

I got back at noon and the roommates were very cold. I get it, I really do. It can't be easy to have to call an ambulance for someone you just let move in. But that's partially why I did it: they barely knew me, so they wouldn't be as affected by it as they would if they'd gotten to know me first.

I immediately tried to sleep with my new sleeping pill. As I was drifting off, the landlord barges in and says I have to leave, immediately, and find a new place for May 1st. Just hours after being released from the hospital. I tried to explain to him that I just needed to sleep and I'd be okay. He said, and I quote, "You need help. You need to be in the hospital 24/7."

Well actually, asshat, if that were the case, I would've still been at the hospital. I told him I had nowhere to go. He said "find somewhere." So I said goodbye to my cat, whom I'd just gotten back after a month and a half of not seeing him, and went to stay at a youth homeless shelter while I looked for a new place to live. They changed the locks and said that if I wanted to get something I had to call and ask the landlord first and he'd let me in, maybe, if he felt like it.

I talked to a lawyer the next day. Since the landlord's daughter is one of the tenants, I was, again, not covered by the Landlord and Tenant Act, meaning he could kick me out for any reason at any time - but he did need to give me at least a week's notice or give me my rent back. I wanted to stay at the house till I found a new place, but he refused. He (illegally) withheld my rent until I moved out. Thankfully I found a place almost immediately, signed a lease with my name on it, and was able to move in on the 15th.

Unfortunately, many, MANY things went wrong between the 3rd when I left and the 15th when I moved in to the place I'm at now.

On the 5th, my bike seat was stolen. I replaced it. On the 6th, my entire bike was stolen. The police said I might as well forget about it; bikes are low on their priority list and are almost never found.

On the 7th, I woke up in the shelter to a phone-shaped hole in my belongings. I reported it stolen and the shelter said I'd have to wait several days (which turned into several weeks) before they'd do anything about it. They just installed new cameras, the only person authorized to view the cameras was on vacation, the police could only do something if they had the camera footage.

But I thought of something. It was an iPhone, so I went into the Cloud and clicked "Find My iPhone". Unfortunately, "Sam's iPhone" couldn't be located. Fortunately, this was because it had turned into "Jessy's iPhone". And it was at Bleams and Strausberg.

Showing this to the shelter workers was proof enough to get him kicked out of the shelter, but not enough to get my phone back. I know it's long gone by now, along with my SIM card and over 400 pictures of my cat growing up, but I'm still pressing charges, because the first day I spent without so much as a way to tell time was one of the worst days of my life and I almost killed myself several times. It wasn’t just a phone, it was the only thing I had to keep in contact with people who made me feel safe.

I somehow managed to make it another week and hire movers for the 15th. I needed to pack so I set up an "appointment" with my "landlord" to go back to my "house" to pack my stuff. The movers also needed to do an "estimate" so I set that up for the same date.

Now we get to the part where I fucking hate religion. We live in a SECULAR society whose workings are still controlled by ancient pagan rituals. That is to say, I had unknowingly planned to move on the Easter weekend. That meant several things: the movers called me back to cancel 3 days before the move, I had to hire last-minute movers that cost twice as much, and my landlord, a devout Catholic, was pissed.

Despite him being the reason I was moving, he didn't want me to move till "sometime next week". I told him I'd be moving into my new place on the 15th and if that meant sleeping on the floor, that'd be because of him. I would not spend another night at the homeless shelter when I didn't have to. After a lot of yelling at me and the movers for not showing up TWICE, I finally got my shit moved out of the old place, got my rent back, and got moved into the new place by 11pm on the 15th. I had scheduled the movers for 9am, so I'd been up since 7.

I thought I'd be manic again as I always am when I move houses, but it was actually just profound repression. I slept in till 10am then spent 15 hours straight unpacking and decorating because I didn't want to face whatever I'd be feeling if I stopped.

But eventually I ran out of things to unpack and walls to decorate. That's when the depression starting sinking in and I started trying everything I could to distract myself. I have a massive backlog of Youtube videos I've been working my way through for six months, a bunch of video games I got for Christmas I haven't played yet, and a shitload of errands to do. So I filled my days with those.

I got a new phone, but it didn't make me feel much better because my best friend, who’d just finished school, was just as unresponsive as he was during school. I then spent 4 days with a terrible cold, unable to do anything but watch TV and sleep, and now, it's been a week that I've been here, and I'm more miserable than ever.

A lot of it is because I'm constantly reminded of what happened the last time I was home alone for weeks on end: I tried to kill myself. And that was when I still had a family.

I know I'm infinitely better off without them; I've always tried to live by the immortally wise words of Robin Williams: "It is better to be alone than to be around those who make you feel alone." It's the reason I got rid of my sister, my cousins, even many people I once considered friends: they made me feel alone.

But that doesn't change the fact that I am, ultimately, alone now. Yes, I have a lot of friends and acquaintances on my side, a good psychiatrist for once, and my amazing therapist. But I don't have any family. I have so little family that I had to reach across the globe to a host family I stayed with in France to take another surname.

I've never felt the ever-elusive feeling of homesickness. I've missed my room, my bed, and my pets, but I've never missed my parents. I still don't. I guess that's partially why this is so hard.

I spent my entire life thoroughly enjoying every single second I could get away from them. Ever since I could remember I was counting down the years till I could move out. When I finally did, I became more depressed than ever, culminating, as I mentioned, in a suicide attempt. I hated the hospital so much that I agreed to leave on the condition that I live with my parents again. I never intended to stay more than a month or so, but it ended up being a year.

I spent that year distracting myself and making things feel like they did before I left, because that's what I considered safe. I'd never actually felt safe at home, just safe from change.

Which brings me back to the point I was making about homesickness: I've never felt it because I've never felt at home anywhere. Home is supposed to be a place where you aren't afraid to exist, where you aren't walking on eggshells when you do anything. Home is supposed to be safe from everything. And because I was raised to believe that I'm truly a bad person at my core, I never felt safe from that feeling. And that feeling came from the places and people I was told were "home".

But they weren't. The closest thing to "home" I've ever felt was in fact the sleazy motel on Victoria Street. Despite the dirty dealings going on just walls away and the shady characters I encountered, I felt safe. It was the first place that I lived by myself without needing to explain myself. Let me, ironically, explain myself.

One of the running themes throughout my life has been explaining myself. As a child, I learned that I had to have a reason for doing or feeling anything, and I had to have that reason at the ready when prompted for it. If I wanted to do something and I didn't know the reason why, I either didn't do it, or I invented a reason. Thus how my incredible talent of lying came to be cultivated.

One of the best ways I'm able to articulate and exemplify this feeling of "needing a reason to feel" is via this anecdote: when I was 13 and my parents discovered I was cutting myself, they screamed at me to tell them why I was doing it and wouldn't stop until I gave them a reason. At the time, I didn't know the reason. So I made one up, one that they said was, and I quote, "not good enough". All my life I'd been terrified of hearing that my reasons weren't good enough. Because that meant that I couldn't control everything, that I couldn't lie my way out of anything I did. This was the first time I found myself caught in a lie and the only reason was because I didn't know the truth myself.

I remember the intense feeling of needing a reason in that moment very well. Not wanting to ever feel that again, and still not knowing the "reason" I was depressed, I learned not to tell my parents anything because I feared that no "reason" would ever be "good enough" for them.

Even when I wasn't living with them, it was still ingrained in my mind that everything, every action, every feeling, every thought, required a reason to be. I came up with a million reasons for my depression, but none of them were ever "good enough" - I was going based on what I imagined my parents would say in response to whatever "reason" I had.

Eventually, I was so depressed for so long that they decided it was an actual illness that I couldn't control, that had no reason besides genetics, and that had no treatment besides pills. But that seemed like a contradiction to me: all my life they'd demanded reasons for everything, and now they decided that this one thing was an exception?

It took many years for me to even entertain the possibility that my parents were part of the "reason" for my mental illness. I knew that mental illness was a combination of nature and nurture, but for most of my life I assumed I was on the far end of the spectrum towards "just nature". Now I know the opposite is true.

Once I started becoming aware that they were a huge part of my problem, they started blaming me more and more for absolutely everything. When I was in the hospital in September, the first thing they did when I came home was yell at me to try harder, telling me that I was the reason I wasn't getting better. It took this much happening for me to realize just how deluded they are into believing they never did anything wrong.

The moment of clarity for me was the day I was kicked out. I had spent the night researching and pulling up dozens of webpages about cheaters and liars to prove that my "father" was a lying sack of shit who had cheated on my "mother". I brought my computer upstairs to slowly walk her through the evidence, leading her to the conclusion that he did it and he's lying about it. The first webpage was about gaslighting. She was so far up her own ass, so far in denial that she said, and I quote, "I don't even believe 'gaslighting' is a thing, I bet the ‘doctor’ cited in this isn’t even real." As someone who's been gaslit their entire life and knows it, I realized I would never get through to her if she couldn't even agree on basic terms and concepts.

Then, over the next few weeks, it dawned on me that I never would've gotten through to myself if I hadn't tried getting through to her. I never would've believed she'd be so far in denial until I saw it with my own eyes. I never would've believed she'd chose him over me until it happened.

That's why, after a week of homelessness following 22 years of being chained to their incredibly flawed reasoning about my depression, the shitty motel was like home to me. I did whatever I wanted and didn't ask myself why every step of the way. I felt whatever I felt and didn't need a reason; or, rather, I finally had one that was "good enough" - my parents were and always will be abusive monsters. I and every therapist I've ever talked to agreed on this. I knew it intellectually, but I never believed it, just like my parents never believed I had a "good enough reason" to be depressed.

I guess now that I know I do, I can dust myself off and call it a day. I'd solved the puzzle 20 years in the making of why I've never been happy. But it's not enough to actually make me happy. Because, as I've finally realized in the writing of this monstrosity that reasons aren't enough. They never have been. I've been raised to think that once I found the truth to something, everything would fall into place. But like I've known all my life but never believed, knowing the truth isn't enough to stop it being so.

I honestly didn't know where I was going with this or what would come of it, if anything. But I'm pleasantly surprised. I needed to write some-5000 words to understand that I've lived my entire life obsessed with finding truth without realizing that truth isn't the be-all-end-all of living. Important for many disciplines, of course, but not necessary to justify feelings.

I think now that I understand why I was so happy at the motel I can try and fill in the gaps here. I can try applying the notion of not needing to reason out everything I do and feel. Because, after all, that's what I was doing there, and that's what made the motel the safest and happiest "home" I've ever had. And I need to continue that pattern if I want this new place to become a safe and happy home.

I know nobody has stuck with me throughout this insanely lengthy rambling; it's pretty specific and not worth much to anyone but myself. So for the first time, I say this to myself: Stay Greater, Flamingo.

[imaginemycroftholmes]

omg could you write a drabble about the gryffindor that accused mycroft to use his hufflepuff friend as a fake friend? later the hufflepuff knows about the fight and goes to talk to mycroft. female reader ,please fluff if its okay for you.

“Watch out lads, we got a couple of Deatheaters on our hands!” called an obnoxious voice carried over the noise of the ancient stone hallways.

Mycroft resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he continued to escort Anthea to her Divination class without causing a scene.

Normally it would be Gregory walking his fellow house mate on Tuesdays; however, with the next match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw he had been plastered with practice sessions at the behest of the head of Gryffindor. His nature physique and large network of friends made it very undesirable for any urchins coming for his dark haired friend but as like Gregory their luck had run out as the gang tailed after them.

It would seem that Calvin Montgomery, supposedly one of the few “real” Gryffindor’s according to him due to the fact that his mother Sarah Geffrey fought in the Great Battle of Hogwarts alongside the famous Harry Potter.

There never seemed to be a moment where the pimple didn’t wax on bout how great she had been in battle and that she of course taught him all her moves. Or how his mother taught him how to spot Deatheaters at a glance and that if you stuck with him you could learn as well. Then of course, how he declared every single Slytherin was plotting to resurrect a new dark lord to take over the wizarding world.

Now most of the student body of Hogwarts didn’t believe his hogwash after first year but even now as a fifth year Montgomery still had a following that harassed Slytherins and anyone that stood by them.

 Why he was allowed to do so was beyond Mycroft’s comprehension and had expressed as much to Headmistress McGonagall but she professed that her hands were tied.

“Until Mr. Montgomery does something considerably noteworthy repeatedly I cannot simply remove him from my school,” the Headmistress exclaimed over when Mycroft came to her again about Montgomery’s verbal abuse, “Surely even you can understand that Mr. Holmes.”

Mycroft indeed understand where the Head Mistress was coming from.

If she had the power to eject a student for being a massive pill she would have removed several trouble students years before but as Montgomery was beginning to become more caustic Mycroft worried for his newest target of abuse.

He suspected that it might be a case of rejection as Montgomery had poorly attempted to court Anthea after a rather ugly rendition of his ‘all Slytherins must bear the sins of their former housemates and do whatever the other houses say in retribution.’

Any fool would have realized that she would have said no and yet Montgomery persists in being an ass to Anthea any opportunity.  

“Hey! I said, HEY!” Montgomery shouts after them as Mycroft ushers Anthea ahead of him at a faster pace. The hallway has become less sparse with students and the odds of both of them escaping without some sort of confrontation are decreasing into single digits.

Mycroft had no qualms that given the chance Montgomery would do far worse than shout at her so it’s best to send Anthea along ahead as he can hold them off for a tick. He may not have Gregory’s strength but he certainly had the same tenacity.

Even if it is five to one Mycroft knows that none of these goldfish know the basics of dueling. Mummy would be displeased but it would favorable than coming home with a pig’s tail and a black eye.

Anthea looks wary of leaving him there but he nods and she’s running down the hallways like a bat out of the potion’s classroom.

Turning to the gang of supposedly ‘brave’ Gryffindors he greets them in curtly with his wand at the ready by his hand. “Is there something I can help you with gentleman,” asks almost conversantly like they hadn’t been harassing his friend.

Montgomery looks pissed as he comes closer and his cronies follow dumbly behind. “It’s just like a snake to sneak away like the cowards they are,” Montgomery accuses glaring after Anthea’s disappearing figure. Putting his attention then on Mycroft he gives him a shove and demands, “What about you tubby? Aren’t ya goin’ run away too?”

Standing a bit straighter Mycroft tries to flatten his stomach and has a firm hold of his wand, “I’ll start running when I met someone worthy of running from Montgomery.”

“OoooOOhhh, a Slytherin tryin’ ta act brave,” Montgomery says in a demeaning tone to his followers who instinctively join in his mockery.

“I don’t have to act Montgomery as it’s very clear who here is brave considering you need five classmates to tail after one girl,” Mycroft states coolly.

This incites Montgomery to grab for his wand and he almost prepares to use it when one of his more sane cronies yells, “Don’t do it Cal! You can’t afford another detention!”

If his hiss is of any indication of his displeasure the way Montgomery practically stomps his feet in the empty corridor is enough to illustrate it. “Damn that bloody harpy and her prefects,” Montgomery curses, “If they’d all leave me be I’d be more than half way done fixin’ this school.” Another one of his friends tries to lead him away from Mycroft but Mycroft is hardly through with him.

If he could just get Calvin to fight him the bastard would be gone and Anthea could walk safely on the grounds once more.

“The only thing that would ultimately ‘fix’ this school is if you were no longer attending it,” Mycroft loudly quips knowing that Montgomery was still in earshot.

The fanatical turn was something out of a comic strip as Montgomery faced.

“What did ya say you cowardly worm?” he screeched while his buddies tried to hold him back.

“Did I stutter?”

He looks so infused that his wand is liable to break in his grip before another lad in the group wrestles it away with a, “NO CAL, McGonagall will expel you!”

It takes a real effort on Calvin’s part to stop squirming but when he does get rather quiet, pensive look as he glares at Mycroft. “See? At least I have real friends to help me out butterball,” he muses, “where are yours I wonder? That one’s run away and without Lestrade you ain’t got shit.”

“You seem to have forgone your senses as I do have more friends than that,” Mycroft puffs out with a bit of pride. Mycroft wasn’t one to have too many friends, acquaintances and connections were more common but friends-they were hard to come by.

Montgomery lets out a bark of a laugh. “What? You mean _______?” he asks a bit hysterical. “That bint ain’t your friend mate, she’s just like everyone else. Riding the Holmes tails and hoping ta catch some crumbs because Hufflepuffs are so stupid-”

CRACK!

When Mycroft came to he wasn’t sure what had happen really other than his fists were sore and he was in detention.

He couldn’t really recall how he got there other than the faded noises of what sounded like the Head Mistress scolding him and the shrieks of vengeance by Montgomery as he was hauled away. Now that he thinks about it Mycroft’s jaw did feel a bit numb…

“Mycroft!”

Looking for the source in the dingy dungeon Mycroft finds it difficult but when _____ ‘s yellow and black uniform becomes more visible he is at ease.

“_______,” he greets ignoring at how his body aches, “I don’t suppose you have a copy of today’s potion lab for me would you?”

Even with the poor lighting Mycroft can tell that she’s upset.

“Mycroft why would you do something like that,” ______ demanded, “You know that those slugs could have done worse to you and yet you go and pick a fight with them? Why?”

Weighing his options Mycroft decides to go with the truth, “They were slurring your reputation and I would rather stand their attacks than let your name be slandered in my presence.”

________’s face flashes from flabbergasted, pleased, excited, and very much roused at the candid answer before shaking her face into a less heated state.“Well, Head Mistress says you have detention for a week under Madame Pomphrey,” ____ says trying to sound normal.

“I dare say I need to given all these sudden aches and pains. Tell me, where there anywhere that they didn’t hit me?” Mycroft asks in a lame attempt to get a smile.

 It’s lame bait but _____, thank Merlin bites into it.“Well, I heard from Thomas who heard it from Myers that-”

[chroniclesofawkwardness]

Greg(g) and the Giant Peach

"Whelp, Gregg Allman died today."

This was not how I expected the silence to be breached. (I had to do a quick check of YouTube to confirm that Gregg spelled his name with two gs at the end. To those of you who grew up eating peaches or tied to the Whipping Post, I apologize.) It's not like "Ramblin' Man" was on the radio, or we were discussing icons of 70s rock music. My Uber driver and I had just reached one of those awkward lulls in conversation that so many people fear and so few can enjoy.

"I'm sorry to hear that," I said, both taken aback that Larry and his 4.8 stars had chosen to restart our conversation like this, and truly at a loss for words. The only thing I can think of that would have made Larry tell me that is that maybe I'd told him about my love of cooking, which sent his mind spiraling out of control until it crash-landed on a memory of the time he and his wife were in of Emeril Lagasse's restaurants in New Orleans and Gregg Allman happened to be there at the same time. Maybe Larry's wife (or Larry himself) had special memories of "Jessica," or "Melissa." (There's an original idea: Songs about girls.) Maybe these were not only songs the Allman Brothers sang, but also the names of Larry and his wife's daughters. I'll never know. I haven't had a chance to ride with Larry again. My snarky self wanted to say something terribly insensitive like, "Does this mean they finally caught the midnight rider?" For me, it's never "too soon" but I didn't think of it until after he'd already dropped me off, and I'd added a tip to the cost of my fare.

This missed opportunity left me wondering what it is about me that makes people like Larry seemingly want to tell me anything, or why finance representatives from Kroger want to approach me, a nondriver, about their credit card, with which I'd earn double fuel points...

I try not to be a dick most of the time, but I also don't have "Gullible Cherub" tattooed on my ass. Maybe it's in the way I present myself to the world. Maybe I smile too much, or it's because I have the genetic misfortune of being one of the few people 5'2'' Srinivas can look directly in the eye.

With all due respect Mr. Allman, I'll pass on your peach, and Srini, I'll pass on the credit card. Peaches have made me unreasonably uncomfortable for years, and my credit score has just risen by three points according to Credit Sesame. I don't want to mess with a good thing, and I've hated peaches (just peaches, not peach-flavored things) for so long, that I don't know how to function without the discomfort they cause me.

I can hear you saying, "How dare you to talk shit about the dead. Gregg was just doing what he loved. How many concerts have you given? How many albums have you released?" The answer would be zero and zero respectively. Before you label me as a hater, hear me out. In a strange way, Larry's random comment about Gregg Allman's passing brought me some hope. I began to think that maybe my irrationally strong disdain for peaches may be misplaced. I'm just entertaining the thought, I'm not ready to have a come-to-Jesus moment with peaches, and break down sobbing like someone who's just been saved as a consequence of a Mormon baptism, or just watched the end of "The Shawshank Redemption." I still need my pain, like Dr. House. But, if The Allman brothers can get away with creating an album called "Eat a Peach" where cover art is little more than a truck with a giant fucking peach in the back, and songs about girls like Melissa and Jessica when that's the last thing the world needs, maybe I can get away with writing this book. In the beginning, the odds have to be stacked against any song or book being written, or album making it out of the studio. If Gregg can do it, there's no reason I can't too.

My dad's name is also Greg, but with one g at the end. He was never a big fan of the Allman Brothers Band. Or, more accurately, if he was, he never admitted it to me. I don't have any memories of us bonding while cruising down the highway in his 1987 Cutlass that permanently smelled of cigars with "Ramblin' Man" blaring on the stereo. He preferred to butcher either "Witchy Woman" by The Eagles or "Barbara Ann" by The Beach Boys while behind the wheel. He never read Roald Dahl's "James and the Giant Peach" to me. And that's okay. He would just ask me how school was a dozen times a day without even looking up from the newspaper, and then pose the same question (or tell my mom to ask me) an hour later as if nothing ever happened.    

I do remember one of his, particularly odd attempts at father-son bonding.

When I was about eight years old. He came to my bedroom door at the crack of dawn on a Wednesday and whispered my name.

"Dave... Hey Dave... Are you awake?"

"What is it, dad? I have to get up for school soon."

"I thought I'd show you how to use the jumping boards on Super Mario Bros."

"What? Why? Er... Okay. I guess..."

I was surprised he'd taken an interest in me for any reason other than my report card. Even my eight-year-old self knew that was messed up. Still, I thought I'd better take advantage of the opportunity to spend time with my father over something asinine before I did something equally or even more mundane in the days to come, like forgetting to get ground beef out of the fridge so it would be thawed out in time for dinner. In most corners of the universe, this would be considered a minor annoyance, but in our house, it would be enough to cause Greg to pout (or do whatever it was that he did) for an extended period of time. If I did anything he didn't like, he would most likely retaliate by not speaking to me for days on end. Given my well-documented issues with timely flesh removal, eight-year-old me must've been like:

"Screw it. He feels sorry for me and my Mario struggle. The least I can do is humor him by pretending to pay attention for five minutes. He's seen me hopelessly bouncing straight up and down on those stupid jumping boards for weeks. I'm lucky he even lets me play Nintendo. He once threatened to ban me from playing almost as soon as we took the console out of the box since I threw away the receipt for it before we were even out of Toys 'R Us. (When I heard that Toys 'R Us would be closing all of its stores, the receipt incident came back to me.) I shouldn't deny him the chance to shoot his parenting shot. After all, he did play with my character on The Legend of Zelda last week. My guy's wearing white armor now instead of the beginner's green. He's trying, at least in Nintendo's 8-bit fantasy world. This means he can't be an irredeemably terrible person in real life, right?"

Well...

Disclaimer: My eight-year-old self was capable of deep thought, but I don't know if I could have spelled irredeemably correctly at that point in my life. That said. thirty-eight year old me thinks polysyllabic adjectives are sexy.

You're welcome.

I'm sure Gregg Allman brought joy to his fans, and no one should be disparaged for doing something he or she enjoys. The last time I saw the other Greg, his first words to me were, "Dave, I left my goddamn clothes at home." Not, "Hi son. How's it going," or "How 'bout a hug?" Nope. "Dave, I left my goddamn clothes at home." I haven't spoken to my father in almost six years you see. He lives in Indiana with his wife that he met online before it was cool. I don’t need all of the fingers on both my hands to count the number of times I’ve seen him in the past twenty years. To be honest, given both the spatial and temporal distance between us, if he actually tried to hug me or ask me about my life, I'd probably just run for the nearest set of headphones to avoid answering the question or feeling the awkward embrace. I'll take my goddamn clothes, thank you. Anything less would be obviously atypical and ineffective. I had no desire for a picket fence or games of catch in the front yard. I don't feel cheated because we didn't sing along together to Jessica or Melissa. Greg taught me a valuable lesson. Life's not fair. People don't always get what they deserve. They get what they get. Wait... Did I learn that from my dad, or a TV show? It's hard to say. Greg had a nearly thirty-year career in law enforcement and corrections, which meant he was constantly surrounded by people who had made horrible decisions, thus he had ample opportunities to pass real-world wisdom on to his sons instead of watching them soak up the Hollywood-crafted kind. Still, it's hard to take someone seriously who's biggest regret is never having been featured on COPS.

I know now that if you're going to be successful using the jumping boards in Super Mario Bros., you have to get a running start in order to clear the obstacle that demands their use, but I still don't know why strangers who drive me around when I request rides through ridesharing apps like Uber and Lyft seem to have an easier time opening up to me than the man whose roof I lived under for eighteen years. Maybe I'll never know. I think the difficulty knowing lies in the burden of expectation. Watching too many movies made me think, as a child, that my dad would one day come home and play catch with me, or at least encourage me to get involved in team sports. Watching too many Ohio State football games made my dad wish I'd grow up to be the Buckeyes' next great middle linebacker. Neither of us lived up to the expectations one supposedly had of the other, but I suppose the greater tragedy is not living up to the expectations you place upon yourself, or not having the courage to place expectations upon yourself at all. Sometimes, you just have to cut ties with people who don't want what's best for you, even if that person is a member of your family.

I don't hate my father, but he's a stranger to me, just like Gregg Allman, and the Uber driver who told me of his passing. All three men are parts of my past.  Do memories twist, and fade? Sure. I hope that when Greg dies, I don't have to hear about it from a stranger, but I'm prepared for the possibility, and I'm fine with that. A coworker once told me that holding a grudge is like letting someone live in your head rent free. If that's true, may the floodgates of revenue open soon. I don't hold grudges, I hold stories.

Thanks for the memories Gregg. Thanks for the memories, dad.