#two drunk bitches .... god how old am i??? mother aged??? fucking hell i feel the back pain already

[yeoldotcom]

hello. i haven't been here all day. ive had 4 bowls of pasta.

[thekillingjoke-haha]

Love And Marriage

Spnquotebingo @spnquotebingo

Quote: You don't save a marriage by sleeping with other people.–Lucifer

Mostly Memory: slant/bold. Quote:small/bold

"What the hell, Anthony!" She yelled scaring both brunettes in the bed she shared with him. The women who looked half her age scrambled off the bed in a rush and ran out of the room getting dressed as she ran out the tower. This time she was throwing objects at the genius screaming and swearing every word under the sun. And yes this wasn't the first time, but its sure as hell will be the last. "How could you do this to me!? Time and time again I forgive and you do it again!!" She tried taking control of her emotions, but they over took her and laid everything out on the table.

Tony slipped on his clothes yelling back and forth with his wife. It was a screaming match that all of New York could hear. "Maybe if you weren't such a controlling bitch I wouldn't need to rush into the arms of a women that would get off my back!" He yelled back and she was stunned into silence. Tony continued talking. "Ever since we been together you've been trying to change who I am and I got sick of it, but you were America's golden girl I couldn't dump you. You just couldn't take the hint ,sweetheart." He finished his intoxicated words got the better of him, but drunk words were sober thoughts and maybe this is exactly how he felt after all these years.

"I want a divorce." She said her voice shaking not wanting to cry in front of the man she loved and she thought loved her back. "What?!" He turned on his heels and stared at her the shouting didn't sober him up, but those four words did. "What did you say?" He asked as if he didn't hear her. "I'm through, Tony. I'm tired of this back and forth. You said it yourself your not willing to change your partying playboy ways so I'm through." She said as she went to get her phone to call her brother. "I want a divorce." Those were the final words uttered to him before she stopped talking to him all together taking off the ring made from the metal of his original reactor the diamond glowing the same blue that lulled her to sleep. Y/n twirled the ring in-between her fingers a nervous habit after the years.

Steve got to the tower from his apartment along with Bucky and Sam. His two friends walked into her bedroom to hear Tony shouting and pleading for her to listen to him. Steve went to his sister as his friends pulled the thrashing man out of the room and to a different part of the building so he could cool off. Tony in the end didn't calm down and was getting violent to the point they had to knock him out and by then Y/n was getting packed with the help of Steve

The suitcase was harshly zipped up as she rushed closing it. Tears flowed freely down her face as she packed all her things well all the things she bought herself. She wasn't running, running was for cowards she was escaping before she drowned herself in whatever kind of love she once had with her husband. Y/n breathed in through her nose as her body convulsed with another fit of silent sobs. Trying to calm down she wanted to get think clear. Did she really want to leave? No, but he didn't give her much of a choice. The light tan line on her finger just further proved she wasn't turning back...not this time. Not even for him. Y/n needed time to think without the threat of the end of the world and out from under her now ex's crushing ego.

She was shacking with anger and in grief it happened again and she was done with it all. Tony fucking Stark her husband, lover, best friend cheated on her again for the third time that she knew of. Y/n saw it she was always there at the wrong time almost like he wanted her to see how pleased he was with another. Steve came out of the bathroom with more hygiene products. "How are you feeling? Are you okay?" He asked for what feels like the hundredth time. Steve knew Y/n wasn't okay he could see it and the sight made him want to rip Stark a new one. With a deep inhale she looked up at him with s slight smile as real as she could make it. "I'm okay I just need to get out of here. Fresh air. New scenery if possible." She said as she looked longingly at a picture on the nightstand not noticing that her brother left with her bags while she stared off. The picture was of her fifth date with Tony after being together as boyfriend and girlfriend for two years, a light festival their first openly public date for cameras to capture them together making it official. America's Sweetheart with a Playboy billionaire...that headline alone should have been the first of many red flags.

The memory played vividly in her mind. Her eyes shined like stars as she dragged him behind her. It was still light outside and the small park was crowded. "Come on, Tones!" She said excitedly as she dragged him along. Many people looked at them and whispered, but they didn't care. They spent the night talking about any and everything it felt so natural. Y/n stared into the sky on their picnic blanket having already painted her lantern with a good amount of wet paint still on her hands. "We've been on what feels like a million dates and this seems like the perfect one to ask you. Will you marry me?" Tony said holding a black velvet box with a f/c diamond ring. "I thought you'll never ask!" She pulled him into a kiss paint covering his cheeks as lanterns where released. He kissed back hands resting on her hips. "Let's go home Mrs.Stark-Rogers." Tony said with a smile. "Well come on then Mr.Rogers-Stark." He was once again dragged away. "No no no my name first Steve will not hold that over me!" Y/n giggled as the memory faded into a much older one.

The twelve year old girl was getting her hair brushed by her mother. "Mama what's love like. I know you love daddy so what's it like?" She asked it's been two years since her father died ,but her mother always said she stilled loves him. "Love is a amazing feeling that doesn't happen often and sometimes it can hurt." The blonde women said to her daughter she couldn't tell her wanting love cost more then giving it. "Why will it hurt?" The young h/c girl asked turning around. "You're to young to know right now, but at some point you will." By the time Y/n turned fifteen she learned that loving someone can hurt after she stood next to her brother and best friend looking at the slab of stone that marked their mother's grave.

The first time it happened she was pissed, but not at the right person at the time. The second red flag.. Screams are what filled the house as Y/n threw clothes at the tramp that was in bed with her drunk husband. She was so anger, but that just hid the pain she was feeling three years for him to cheat. After shutting the half clothes harlot out on the front porch of the Malibu home she stormed back to Tony. He stayed in his boxers on the bed looking dazed he was drunk. "Why?" Is all she could ask as tears fell down her cheeks. The billionaire stood up and walked toward her he wiped her tears. "I'll change. I promise." He kissed her head. She believed him she had faith that he couldn't change for them. After all Y/n did the same she gave up being a hero along side her brother because he told her he already worries about getting home to her as Ironman no need to add the stress of not knowing if she'll get home. So she hung up her red, white, and blue catsuit for him.

After a year Y/n sat in her art studio wear she sold her and other rising artist artwork after Tony said she shouldn't paint in the tower,she painted with her brother laughing messing with colors. She was thankful she put down plastic tarp beforehand a giggle rang out when Natasha walked through the door. Without saying anything she drops a magazine on the table of brushes next to Y/n. On the cover was Tony kissing some red head though a window tears welled in her eyes as she wiped her hands he eyes not leaving the cover till it was picked up off the table. Natasha comforted her as Steve took the magazine and paced. " Am I stupid for trusting him? Thinking he would change?" She asked as the waterworks flowed. "No ,if anyone is stupid its him. Ever since he came out as Ironman he thought he was untouchable. God imma kill him!" The red head said while Steve was flexing his hand not wanting to hit any of the stored art pieces. The third red flag for all to see.

The bus rocked back and forth as she looked over at her brother sleeping next to her. They were heading to the airport and he was going to see her off before possibly killing Tony. Speaking of she looked down at her phone and saw dozens of missed calls and hundreds of unread text. She felt that the world was so much bigger after leaving, after getting away from the place that no longer felt like a home. Turning back to the window a memory came to surface as a teenage girl sat on the bus watching old Brooklyn go by. She thought life was so slow she wanted to grow up faster and experience life. Y/n wanted to find love like her parents had. "What are you thinking about doll?" She turned and in Steve's place was Bucky her adoptive big brother. "Nothing important, James." She said with a sigh as the old modeled cares turned back to modern vehicles and yellow taxi's.

Tony woke up and ran around the tower while calling and texting his wife. "Friday track Y/n' s phone. He said as he went to the lab to get in his suit. "She's as NYC airline." The irish voice answered as he stepped into the suit letting it close around him. Before the hatch could open completely he was flying out of the tower to the airport. "Any idea which flight?" He asked wanting to get there before it's to late. "No boss, but the next flight leaving is heading for U.K and boarding in fifteen minutes." Time was running out he needed ever second he could spare. "We'll make it in ten." That night Ironman flew to save whatever he had left.

Y/n held her ticket in her shaking hands her breath uneven. Steve left after the bus dropped her off they said their goodbyes not making the separation hurt any less. Her thoughts came back to Tony all the good times made her smile, but the dark clouds took them over soon after. It felt so right to be in his arms thinking about the future they had with each other within seconds that became a distant memory. What's sad is she wants to go back wondering if she held on to those moments longer they'll last forever. The ring she slipped back on her finger weighed a ton. Y/n didn't have the strength to take it off not for good at least and this made her feel weak. Pain was heavy in her heart from the constant ache, but the little voice kept saying maybe if we tried harder he would have loved us the way we love him, maybe rushing into a relationship wasn't the best idea, maybe he's happier without us ,maybe not telling him about the positive test was the best option ,maybe...maybe.

A hand resting on her stomach she wanted to laugh, but that would have brought on a fresh wave of tears. She started off the day without Tony in bed and sicker then she's been since her pre-serum years. Y/n went to the doctor completely covered form any prying eyes and the test were clear she couldn't believe it she took about ten test in her studio bathroom before heading back to the tower. Howard warned her and Steve that the serum might sterilize them, but at the time both of them were to small and sickly and she knew getting pregnant might kill her anyways so they both agreed to it. Y/n wished she could hug the man today he made her better and let her have a gift she never thought was possible. A baby was growing inside her. Tony never really talked about kids and neither did she since that wasn't a possibility before, but the moment she held five of the clearer test she wanted to rush into his arms and have him be the first to know. That quickly fell apart that evening and now she's here.

The suit landed out side the airport and Tony immediately ran out of it into the building looking through his tented shades he followed the path Friday set for him rushing through security. "Now boarding flight A145 to United Kingdom. Ahora aborda—" The intercom rang out. He was running out of time. There he saw h/c hair one of a couple dozen in line due to the oddly timed flight. "Y/N!!" Many heads turned at the shout while so gasped and whispers started. She looked at him and froze. His eyes looked bloodshot and he wore baggy sweats and a AC/DC shirt. Turning back around she tried to get on the plane quicker, but a hand grabbed her arm. "Please listen to me. I'm so so sorry! I'm a fucking moron okay? I know I just keep screwing up between us and I know you're tired of me saying I'll change, but if it means I keep you in my life I'll do damn near anything." Tony's voice shook as his eyes welled with tears people crowed to see the Starks some seemed to clued in on the subject while others were lost. "You can't fix this Tony. There's nothing to fix between us you said your piece and actions speak louder then words there is no saving this." Y/n whimpered holding her hand in her own.

"I can save us, N/n! Please just give me a chance too. You and me against the world right?" She shook her head no as she looked into his brown eyes with her glassy e/c ones. "Wrong. You just don't get it do you? You don't save a marriage by sleeping with other people. And I gave you more then enough chances to change because God I changed so much for you!! I gave up saving people, gave up painting in the tower, stopped helping Pepper with business, stopped going to briefings, and so much more. All for you and you couldn't do one thing for me." With quivering hands she gently brushed the tears from his cheeks letting her hands go from his shoulders to his hands. "I loved you, Anthony. I always will have a special place in my heart for you, but clearly the same doesn't go for you." Y/n now held one of his hands bringing his knuckles to her lips giving them a chaste kiss.

She let go of his hand as she stepped back from him many of the passengers having already boarded the plane. "Don't say goodbye." He said voice small and weak. "...don't think of this as a goodbye. We just met at the wrong time in the wrong place. Maybe I'll come back to you and just maybe we can start again from the beginning, but until then this is a see you later." She turned and went on board as he stood their feet glued the the floor. Looking down at the hand she held the ring sat in his palm she left him with a piece of his heart while she took the rest with her. What is a marriage without love

————————————————————————————————————————————

A/n this is the second to last one before the full masterlist is posted. Fyi I wrote a happy ending and if it's really wanted I'll make a short one-shot of it but angst ending for now.

Next quote is a free space and I'm going ham!!!!

[rodentchild]

Things Family/Friends Say as Prompts Part 10!!

In honor of part 10 being out, here's 100 prompts!!

"I made a pie because I was procrastinating."

"These pants make my ass look great, thank you very much!"

"Well, shit. It seems I've forgotten my pants."

"I find your pettiness to be funny as hell."

*tall person interrupting short person* "That's enough from the peanut gallery."

"He probably thought there was real crack in it."

"I'm getting caffeine so I don't kill people."

"Don't ask a personal question unless you are 100% ready for the answer."

"Look at me. Just because you can fight this alone, it doesn't mean you have to."

"It's not my fault you seem to have lost all rational sense!"

"We're a violent generation, mother!"

"You're a monstrosity." "Yeah, but a sexy monstrosity."

"Why are you covered in glitter?"

"I'm not sure if I'm feeling pride well up inside me, or if it's vomit."

*carries a plush yoda in their backpack* "The force says fuck you."

"I found out that 90% of my coworkers don't know how a fucking clock works."

"Don't ask me if I'm okay, I'm in a constant state of panic."

"Where's my fucking watch!" *flips desk*

"It was 4 bucks at Goodwill, let me live my life!"

"Out of all the people in this room with nerves to push, you choose to tap dance on mine."

"If you're not careful, I will shove a lit firecracker down your pants."

"Wow you are such a gay disaster."

*watches someone do parkour* "What a Chad!"

"I don't know what it is but it smells bad and tastes worse."

"Stop being so hot!"

*singing in Not English* "Wow that song is beautiful." *pterydactyl screech*

"It gave it's body up for science!" "THAT DOESN'T MEAN YOU CAN EAT IT!"

*multiple warning alarms going off* "Hell yeah, party time!"

"I wear anything I want! Regardless of weather!"

"My student's opinions don't matter!"

"I'm not doing that, I'd look like one of those thumb people in Spy Kids."

"You're just a problem in general."

"Now hOW IN THE GODDAMN FUCK..."

*talking about coffee* "Get that bitter bean-water out of my face!"

"That man is a national treasure."

"This is about my job, not my looks!"

"You're vibes are rancid."

"Can you come drop me off a new pair of pants, please? I spilt acid on my old ones."

"Let me listen to my punk music, you binary bitch!"

"Let me aggresively love you!!"

"I'm too sick for your bullshit today, so can you just get me some soup and fuck off?"

"It was weird then and it's weird now, so shut up."

"Nothing is binary and everything is gay, you ignorant bitch!"

"I would challenge you to a battle of wits since you think you're so smart, but it's unfair to go against an unarmed opponent."

"Just... Promise me you won't get into any more fights this year?"

"I'm running on 4 hours of sleep and chronic anxiety, so sass me again and see what happens."

*screaming* "What are you doing?" "Self care! It's either this or I go set someone on fire!"

"If you wanted a nice guy, you shouldn't have treated me like a villain."

"Why are you drinking cereal and milk out of a mug?"

"I'm sorry you have a tattoo where?"

"I'm always a slut for mashed potatoes."

"You look terrible. I mean that in the nicest way possible."

"You look real fancy, dare I say 'hobo chic'."

"That is both romantic and disgusting."

"Damn you are the hottest boy in a skirt I've ever seen." "I'm the only boy in a skirt you've ever seen..."

"Life is a rollercoaster and it has no seatbelts, let's fucking go!"

*repeatedly smacking them with a book* "Stop. Being. Such. A. Himbo."

"I probably just saved your life, but there's no need to thank me. You should just start listening to me."

*dramatically throws themself on the couch* "I can and I will be as dramatic as I fucking want, ok?"

"You need to stop! You could die!" "That's the fucking point!" "...Wait what?"

"Get out of my way before I pick you up and throw you across the damn room."

"I feel like a sad sack of shit."

"Let me eat my depression cookies in peace!"

"It's not my fault you're a feral beast."

"Just because I'm dead, it doesn't mean I don't have feelings." (ghost au???)

"Point to a place on the globe and I promise we'll go there after graduation."

"How dare you. You don't have the right to even say his name after the shit you've put him through."

*hiss* “Okay, you are not a cat, now calm down.”

"No more yeeting dirt from the neighbors for your garden."

"I mostly live off coffee and despair."

"I told my students that if they all passed their final, I'd ask you out. I don't think I've ever seen everyone study so hard in my life."

*after getting in a fight at school* "It's not that bad, I'll be fine. You can kill them later."

"It is my God-given right to be a bitch am I'm going to use it."

"Just because God gave you a mouth, doesn't mean you should use it."

"You're just a walking meme, aren't you?"

"Can I get a Hell Yeah?" *southern accent* "HeLl YeAh!"

"Pfft! In what dimension is that true?!"

"Just. Get. Out. Please..."

"Sometimes I wonder if those soulmate tropes in fanfics are real." "... Is this why I caught you writing down full conversations on your arm?"

"This is your plan?" "Yep." "It's incredibly dangerous." "Sounds right." "It could kill you." "Let's hope it doesn't."

"Wanna go play hide-and-seek at IKEA?"

"I'm gonna get drunk and binge watch Scooby Doo. You in?"

"You finally managed to surprise me, you crafty little shit."

"Can you walk?" "No, I think my leg's broken. Can you carry me?"

"I will never be anything but mediocre in this universe."

"You should replace the batteries in those things, they're not working right." "Oh no, my hearing aids work fine. Ignoring you was a conscious decision."

"What are you doing?" "Waiting. I do that."

*said to two men* "Alright girls, calm down. You're both pretty!" "I am so much prettier than him!"

"If you'll excuse me, I drank a 5-hour Energy and now I'm going to chew caffeine gum and explode."

"I'd sacrifice myself for you in a heartbeat."

"Fuck Claire's! We're getting you pierced at a real shop!"

"You're such an ass." "Thank you, it's a natural talent."

"It's only a matter of time before I injure myself on accident."

"Don't say you're sorry, you've done nothing wrong."

*context: age regression as a coping mechanism* "You can be as little as you want, baby. I'll be right here."

"I can tell your anxiety's acting up. Want to squeeze my hand?"

"I'm constantly afraid that my parents will find out I'm lgbtq+, and one day I'll come home from school and my house keys won't work anymore..."

"You're injured way too much, the hospital staff know you by name."

"Yes hi I love you, now give me attention."

"Can you draw on my arm? I like the feeling, and it kinda helps with anxiety..."

[stellalux-universe]

Shout At The Devil

Summary: Nikki doesn’t believe in God or the Devil, not necessarily. He believes that people can be angels or demons but doesn’t actually think those entities exist but he is extremely interested in the stories surrounding them all. Still, he does feel a peculiar energy wash over him as he flips an old book on witchcraft open and starts copying down symbols to use on their stage.

What follows will certainly change his life for good. Or evil, depending on your perspective.

Notes: ~Hello! So here I am, foolishly attempting a multi-chaptered alternate universe fic. What the hell am I thinking? But I'm going to do my best and update as frequently as I can, I promise! As long as people actually, you know, want it. I don't want to give anything away with this story so I'm gonna let you move right along now but first a HUGE SHOUT OUT to @devil-shouted​ because this fic is a product of a long and intensive head cannon that we have been talking about forever together and it would not exist without her! LOVE YOU DARLING, I hope you like how it came out! As usual, I haven't edited and I'm going to try to do so tomorrow but I wanted to get this up tonight because I'm stubborn! Okay, well, I hope you enjoy~

You can read this on my Ao3 as well if you’d prefer:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21416446/chapters/51026005

Chapter 1: Streetwise Religion

Nikki’s mind is completely blank as he stares at the empty, open notebook in front of him. The stark purity of the white paper absolutely mocking him without any black markings as he taps his pen against the desk in his makeshift home studio. His bass is propped up against the far wall, the curtains of the huge window open to let in the moonlight that mixes with the warmth of the lamps that are on in his house, and there’s a half empty bottle of Jack sitting precariously close to the edge of the desk, all things that would normally combine to create the perfect atmosphere in which he could write but tonight, there’s just nothing.

A deep growl of frustration leaves his throat completely out of his control as he throws himself to lean back in his chair and slams his pen down, hands coming up to card through his matted black hair. His fingers get stuck in some greasy knots and he makes a mental note to actually take a shower soon, sighing as he grabs the pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the clutter on the desk and lights one up.

The nicotine that fills his lungs has an immediate calming effect as he exhales the smoke, looking around absently at the dark red walls of the room where he spends most of his time when he’s in his new home. He bought the house with his signing bonus after his band signed with Elektra Records, right after buying himself his dream car, and it still shocked him every single time that he was an actual house owner.

It wasn’t crucial for him to write at this exact moment. They had just released their newest album and they were about to start touring in just over a week and Nikki was feeling so validated. Validated because he knew they were good enough, the record sales for Shout at the Devil that were already taking off was proof of that. Those days and nights grinding away, playing the shittiest bars on the strip to measly crowds of people who barely looked up to boo, had been worth it. The heckling, the fist fights, the literal starvation in that old crappy two bedroom apartment he shared with Vince, his lead singer, and Sammy, their drummer, had been worth it. Long nights agonizing over every note and word with Mick as the man constantly changed his guitar pieces were absolutely worth it because they were making it. His baby, his band, was taking off and Nikki was happier than he can ever remember being.

Or maybe, happy wasn’t exactly the word.

Proud, yes. Exhilarated, definitely.

But happiness was an elusive concept for Nikki. He experiences it like the atmosphere experiences lightning; a long static build-up of events and situations, a fast, explosive crack of feeling, followed by a just as quick dissipation back to dispiritedness. Vince had told him once that Nikki was just a morose person, that when he wasn’t drunk or high and therefor crazy, he just naturally tended toward depression.

Nikki doesn’t really believe that’s true, it’s just that his sober mind thinks too much about things that he can’t control or change.

He thinks about his childhood, or more accurately, the lack thereof. He thinks about how selfish and miserable a mother has to be to set her own desires above the actual physical welfare of her child. He thinks about a kid being hit by men meant to be father figures and about how he’s never taking shit like that from anybody ever again. He thinks about the abandonment by an actual father, about how disappointing it was to realize his namesake wanted nothing to do with him, about how he felt burning the last of Frank Feranna Jr. away with his license the day he became Nikki Sixx.

Most of all he thinks about the loneliness. The loneliness of a boy who never had an ounce of affection thrown his way until way too late in his life. That loneliness was a beast inside of Nikki’s heart, gnawing away at the sinew and veins and drinking the blood that was supposed to be pumped through his body, leaving him feeling weak. Nikki didn’t like to feel weak.

He did everything he could to fill that void, to feed that beast, to cling to the brief sparks of happiness that came his way. He drank and did drugs, he did crazy things with Vince and Sammy just to override everything with that rush of adrenaline, he bedded countless groupies, men and women alike, all in an effort to drive away that loneliness and chase away the darkness in his own mind. He turned himself into an animal of the night, prowling the streets of Los Angeles for anything to distract him in the dark. But it was always temporary, just like the flash of a lightning strike, driven away by the morning sun and leaving Nikki tortured by his demons again.

Nikki isn’t one to languish in his misery. He doesn’t want to be sad like Sammy seems to think, and he does try to be happy unlike what Vince seems to think. He supposes Mick understands it best, the weariness that comes with a life that has just beaten you down. The guitarist told him when they last talked about it that Nikki just hadn’t found that thing that lifts him up and makes him want to stay up and until he does, he’s always going to be in this spiral.

The issue was that Nikki always thought that thing would be his music. Nikki is under no delusions, he knows that music literally saved his life. He wouldn’t be here today without it and he has a love for it that rests deep in his bones, but it’s temporary, just like everything else for him. In those few hours he’s on stage or in the studio, he’s truly Nikki Sixx. Alive, passionate, strong, thriving. The second he’s not playing though, he’s lost, his music unable to sustain him when he doesn’t have a bass in his hands or a notebook in his lap.

For now, he’s okay. They’re busy working on putting together a killer stage for their set, spending copious amounts of time in the studio to perfect their setlist and live versions of the recorded tracks. Nikki is swamped with photoshoots and interviews and record signings. These things occupy him and distract him from that emptiness that consumes him when he’s alone and idle.

He’s already turned to heavy drinking and copious amounts of cocaine to stave off his darker thoughts, he shudders to think about what he might get into when those stop being enough.

For now though, he wanted to write. Nikki knows that once the tour starts, between performances, interviews, and partying, he was going to be too busy and too out of it to get any work done so he wanted to get a head start on their next album but there was just nothing coming out of his pen onto the paper.

He’s uses his foot on the ground to swing himself back and forth in his chair as he smokes, he wants to put some music on, the house far too quiet for his kind of mind to be comfortable in but he doesn’t like listening to other people’s music when he’s trying to write. His eyes move over the pictures, the sound equipment and speakers lazily before they land on a box of books next to his bass. He’d been meaning to get a bookshelf or something to house them but he’d been simultaneously too busy and too lazy to do it yet.

On the top sat a black leather bound book, it was fairly thick, it’s pages worn from age but it was the cover that always caught Nikki’s attention whenever he saw it, silver embossed into the leather in the shape of the pentagram. He had been staring at the cover of this very book when he had decided that this was going to be the symbol for their newest album cover, and with that, came a whole concept. A friend had actually picked it up for him while he was in New Orleans, the fellow musician had thrown it at him when he had gotten back, telling Nikki that he knew the bassist was into freaky shit like this and it had looked cool.

Nikki had laughed at the time, thrown something right back at him but he kept the thing. To date though, he had never opened it.

Suddenly he was moving out of his seat and walking to the box, picking the book up without thinking about it and sitting back down. The leather was soft in his hands and as he sets it on the desk in front of him, he thinks fuck it, he may as well actually look through it, it’s not like he was getting any work done anyway.

Nikki doesn’t believe in God or the Devil, not necessarily. He believes that people can be angels or demons but doesn’t actually think those entities exist but he is extremely interested in the stories surrounding them all. Still, he does feel a peculiar energy wash over him as he flips the book open.

“Superstitious bitch.” Nikki chuckles to himself as he turns the pages.

The writing is in an ink that’s dark red, almost black, but Nikki can see the difference in the color tone and the language is something he’s never seen before. He can’t read it, but it’s beautiful to look at and the symbols are captivating his attention as he continues to turn the pages.

One symbol in particular has him pausing in his page turning, his mind filling with an idea of painting symbols from this book all over their stage for the tour and he grins as he picks up his pen and copies the symbol down in his journal.

From there he flips through the book with more purpose, copying his favorite symbols down to show the rest of the band and choose which ones to use. He’s not sure he’s doing them any justice, but he tries to be as thorough and accurate as possible. Another smile tugs at his lips as he thinks about how incredible it’s going to look and how freaked out the label is going to be when they see it.

The next symbol he copies is more difficult than the others, but when he sees it, he feels drawn to it immediately. He can see it so perfectly in his head, the beautiful circle symbol with it’s flowing script around the edges and intricate shapes in the center will be painted in bright red on their black stage right in the middle of all of them.

He’s just finishing copying the symbol down, making the last mark when he feels a strong rush of wind flow through the room and he looks up in shock at the strength of it, papers from his desk flying around and the pages of the book fluttering and he’s confused when he sees the window is still closed and even more confused when the lights shut off. He strides through the papers in the air to start feeling around the edges of the window but he can’t feel any air flowing through and he’s truly starting to freak out a little bit, heart pounding as his eyes flicker around trying to find the source, when the wind all of a sudden dies down and the lights flicker back on.  

The papers fall to the ground and the desk and he watches them in disbelief for a second before he’s tearing out of the room and checking all of the windows in the living room and the kitchen. They’re all closed and he even goes as far to check the air conditioning but it’s shut off and he stands there, arm against the wall as he tries to reason away just what the hell happened.

He shakes his head and tells himself it was just a phantom draft from somewhere in the house. It’s an old house, one of the reasons Nikki bought it was because it had an old world charm to it, it wasn’t a new, perfectly manufactured thing but now he’s starting to see the drawbacks.

He makes his way back to his studio, glances at the book, surprisingly still open to the page of that circular symbol he was copying down and shakes his head as a shiver works its way down his spine. He doesn’t believe in magic and demons and witchcraft, and the book has nothing to do with what just happened. At least, that’s what he tells himself as he closes the book and grabs the bottle of Jack from the edge of the desk and leaves the room, turning the lights out behind him as he makes his way to his bedroom.

Nikki takes a large gulp from the bottle, still trying to calm his rattled nerves and reaches out a hand to flip the switch for the lights in his room but when he does, no light turns on.

Nikki fiddles with the switch and curses the faulty electricity in the old house when another single gust of wind blows through the room and causes Nikki to look up. The lights are off but the moonlight spilling into the rest of the house lets him see okay and even if it were pitch black he would still be able to make out the glowing red eyes staring at him from the direction of the bed.

Nikki drops the bottle of liquor in his hands in surprise at the figure laying across his bed, the bottle bouncing off the floor and soaking the carpet beneath his feet.

“Who the fuck are you?” Nikki calls out angrily. He doesn’t know if it’s some crazed fan with strange contacts or a joke being played on him by Vince and Sammy but he’s not in the mood to be messed with right now.

But all he gets in the face of his anger is a breathy laugh that makes goosebumps pop up along his skin, jumping when the never used fireplace on the wall next to him suddenly roars to life, lighting the room in flickering warm light and Nikki almost audibly gasps when he sees the person draped on his side on his bed.

The figure is most definitely a male, and if Nikki were just looking at the bare mile long legs crossed over each other, Nikki would have no question that they were just human but as his eyes slide up over lean thighs and the short leather shorts that hug the slight curve of the being’s hips, Nikki spots a long thin appendage ending with an arrowhead tip flicking back and forth lazily over his legs and he instinctually knows it’s a tail.

If he had any other doubts that this was some sort of inhuman creature, the clawed hands certainly washed them away. His slender torso was bare and Nikki followed the long lines of the creature’s body to a long neck and a pretty face, full red lips, high cheekbones, straight nose and big brown eyes lined black, all surrounded by long curly black hair. The two small fangs that peek out from under the thing’s lip as he smiles and the two small black horns that are nestled in his hair further confirm that whatever this admittedly beautiful thing is, it certainly wasn’t human.

The being is propping his head up with one arm, his other hand tracing patterns on his own hip as he watches Nikki with a gleam in his eyes that looks like pure sin to Nikki and makes a sudden wave of heat wash through him. The bassist feels confused when a haziness starts to settle over him, his pants feeling tight as he stares at the creature and his own arousal shocks him because who the fuck is confronted with something like this and gets aroused and not scared?

“Who, who the fuck are you?” He repeats the question, trying to sound as angry as the first time but his voice comes out low and husky and it makes the creature on his bed outright giggle at him and Nikki shouldn’t find that sound cute but he does and what the fuck is happening to him right now?

The thing shifts in position, climbing up on his hands and knees facing Nikki before finally speaking, “You should know, you summoned me, didn’t you mortal?”

Confusion hits him again, but Nikki can’t respond because right at that moment, the creature is jumping clear across the space between them and Nikki catches him out of instinct, those long legs wrapping around his waist and clawed hands sinking into his hair to tilt his face up.

“Now, let’s have some fun.”

[inexchangeforyoursoul]

... apparently, these are becoming a weekly endeavor. (watch me getting an autoblock as soon as I post this) ( AO3 )

tl;dr Hawks is in high spirits (no pun intended), and Rumi’s Intrigued™

Meanwhile, somewhere not too far away, a vaguely annoyed Dabi is sneezing a whole lot, questioning whether his feeble ass is allergic to feathers.

(((I almost chose an angsty ending. Almost. But apparently I cannot do that with series and games that are not depression station in the first place, F.)))

“Say… you are in a reeeeeally good mood today, aren'tcha?” Rumi notes between two obnoxious milkshake slurps next to the remaining morsels of their lunch while taking a full round on the revolving barstool. It’s a Monday, it’s a conference day, a boring conference day where she’s about to kill herself out of sheer boredom… and Hawks, who’s usually also only present in body and ready to passive-aggressively tear the thing down, is radiating a hundred different levels and shades of sunlight. Of course she’s gonna jump on this.

“Huh?” the hero replies, returning to the present; the pen he’s got bouncing between two fingers while reading through the despair-inducingly thick paper pile in front of him (most likely invitations and offers of various kinds) never stops in its fast, metronome-like movement. The little smile that's been plastered over his face all day perks up a little as he looks at her, too. He’s obviously missed the question directed at him, but doesn't seem to be bothered by it.

“I said you are in a good fucking mood, twerp,” his friend repeats with a click of the tongue. Something’s definitely up. “And that you didn't catch it is all the damn proof I need. Haven't seen you this well-adjusted since… ever, actually.” Slurrrp.

“Aaah… guess so,” he muses with the rhythm slowing and a thoughtful expression for a change.

“I had the best fucking sleep ‘since ever’ is all.” The pause preceding this is uncharacteristically long, and his persistent smile returns before he even reaches the conclusion.

“You slept?” chortles Rumi in disbelief, then starts choking as some of the remaining milkshake finds its way to her lungs. The plausible fact that this alone could make him feel alive should not be this funny.

Hawks’ smile widens into a grin and he leans onto an elbow, shoving the documents aside. “Seven hours and thirteen whole-ass minutes, bitch. It's a new record!” It wasn't exactly that much, probably just under seven if he wanted to be honest. But point stands.

Once having regained composure, the heroine lets the information linger for a few seconds. Hmm. Hmmm… “Explains why you are functional and were late for the meeting. What it doesn’t explain is how you, Mr. 10 minutes ahead of everyone’s schedule… early bird extraordinaire… slept in.” That goofy expression is not his usual one, no. There's a snoop to be had, here. After a deep, deep, grin-ridden sigh, she turns back to him, leaning on the counter as well. “Has it got anything to do with dodging, like, all of my invitations lately? Hmm?” She wiggles her brows at him.

Man… she just went there, didn't she. Unfortunately, the persistent smile refuses to cover for him. In fact, it's more incriminating than anything, creeping wider once more. Well then. “Hasn't got as much to do with it as you would like, fam. There's only about… 15% of overlap.” Plus some change.

Maybe more, now that he thinks about it… because the disturbingly domestic (and even worse, occasionally comforting and enjoyable) shenanigans with the League have long outgrown the ‘meeting up with actual S-rank villains in my fake free time because spy lmao’ category. Rumi wouldn't buy that anymore, she's seen enough to know that he's full of shit.

There's a glint of a hunter’s in Rumi’s eyes… a hunter’s that has found fresh track. Her grin turns into a triumphant sneer. “So you do admit to seeing someone.”

The smile on Hawks’ face gains a streak of concern. “Please don't make me think about it in those terms,” he moans, furrowing his brows. “Any of the people I've been dealing with are freaks of nature.”

“So are we,” she notes, not missing a beat.

That earns a similarly fast fling-and-point of a pen in her general direction. “Word.”

She snickers. “Come on…! Tell me about that dreamy 15% that has you so pepped. I'm dying to know~”

He thinks about it for a bit. Then, the feathers of Hawks’ wings rustle, and he himself takes a gander around the restaurant; there's mostly heroes, sidekicks and managers gathered in the building in the first place, who are similarly disinterested in each other's dwindling lunch break times and private lives. While assessing the room, he's silently weighing his options as to how much he can say, and how he should choose his words.

“So… I've been roped into a kind of internship in the past months that I wanted nothing to do with, and am still hella iffy about,” he begins, keeping it just low enough for it to be not overly suspicious.

“Good start!”

“I know, right? Anyway… it's dirty work, but turned out to be tolerable, most of the time. The coworkers are all bonkers, but I've already come to the terrifying conclusion that I'm not all that different.”

“Took you long enough.”

“Hush, I'm telling your story…! Who you might be interested in, I think, is the contact person that keeps a close eye on me even today.”

“OOOH, this is getting spicy~ are they, like, twice your age? You are into older people, after all. Oh, and dude or lady? Other, maybe? You are being really cagey.”

“What did I just say?! Also, I'm not into older people. This peep is up to five years my senior, tops.”

“Never had to listen to yourself when going on about Endeavor, have you!? And see? You just admitted the peeper is older!”

“That’s fan rambling, and ever since I had to work with him, I have held my horses in check, hon. As for the other thing? Honestly, I never asked about their birthday or age, but I've been getting older sib vibes. Could be younger or as old as I am, for all I know. But let me fucking continue. SO… we've been getting along okay lately. Way too well, actually, considering the mutually hostile ~strictly professional~ gig we both started out with. Not that we're not assholes to each other still, but we are… like, frenemies.”

“Strangely mysterious person is already starting to sound like you.”

“…”

“Okay, Pot, okay!! Stop looking all disappointed and tell me about Kettle.”

“… Kettle will be a great stand-in name, thanks for the contribution. You are allowed to acknowledge this with a hum.”

“Mhmm.”

“Excellent. Back on topic… as you know, my yesterday… had been a thing.” For the first time that day, the smile disappears entirely.

Rumi hums again with a nod, which doesn't get shot down. From what Hawks was willing to share about family, it had been obvious that he wasn't on particularly good terms with his parents in the first place, but…

“Long story short, yesterday was also internship day, and I was in a pretty bad mood when we met. Tired, anxious, angry, you name it, I had it. Thankfully there's no news coverage, and I didn't want to bring it up, either… but Kettle… knows me well enough to tell when I’m faking it. And how to push my buttons. The prodding got the best of me, eventually; really, this irritating bitch can get under my skin with an efficiency you can only dream of… but anyway, I was so pissed... like, borderline feral, that even they were surprised. Which, in turn, made me feel like a wreck once I realized what I was doing. So they hammered the last nail into the coffin by putting on their calmest, most civil face, -a rarity, really,- to ask the single, logical question in that situation. And I caved. For a dreadful moment I honest to god thought Kettle would make fun of me, you know. What kind of number two hero has their mother stuck in detox every three months…? Fuck, if not for the bar fight, I wouldn't even know she relapsed two whole years ago already! But, uh… they… seemed to understand. We had a therapy session for peasants at my place, then. Kinda like what we have sometimes. And that's when it really got…” Tongue click. “… heavy.”

Rumi’s ears have been attentive and alert, but hearing this makes them part. She takes a second-long break; there's something that usually helps Hawks sleep a little better. And heart-to-hearts tend to push him over the brink, hell, some nights they do this just so he can get some rest. “… You cried.”

With some delay, he nods. “… I did.”

She lets out a tired sigh. “Managed to weird ‘em out, huh.”

“Actually… it ended up being a half drunk weeping contest for the emotionally constipated,” he muses, eyes staring into a scene from the past, located somewhere past the pen in his right hand. “They opened up a little to me, too. Which was new, but… comforting. I learned that while my mother frequents the station, Kettle’s mom has been hospitalized with a severe case of mental breakdown since they were a teen. They miss her… but cannot visit. They fear that showing their scarred face would make her relive the freak show that resulted in her being sent there in the first place.”

“ … Jesus. Both of you sound like the life of the party when running a hashtag-mood.”

The remark brings back the shadow of his happy smile. “I guess so. But, guess what?”

Hers returns as well; they reached the nice part. “What?”

“I ended up leaning onto Kettle… and them onto me. We hugged it out… and stayed like that for like an hour, the sniffling messes we were. And in the morning… I woke up in the arms of someone, warm and safe… sun shining into the room, little bastard relatives chirping outside. I could even smell fresh coffee being made someplace, coming from the open window. And that… that felt divine.”

Rumi takes a delighted sigh. “The life, bitch. That's… the life.”

“Yeah.”

They lie around like that for a few minutes, sprawled on the counter as the noises of the still busy restaurant creep back into their little bubble before it inevitably pops. Hawks breaks the comfortable silence then. “All in all… I admit that you have been right about me all along.”

Her feet bounce an increasingly impatient rhythm against the metal frame as her mood and blood pressure lift back to normal. “Right about what? You are a felon for not supporting pugs, an abomination for even daring to look at pineapple pizza, and an absolute disgrace for turning down ghost peppers! Be more clear, dammit.”

Hawks tosses the long forgotten pen onto the form pile and leans in closer, hiding his mouth with his hands from view. He breathes it in a whisper so low, only people with superhuman hearing or big ole rabbit ears could catch his voice right now. It’s time to make her day, too. “Rumi, I think… I'm hella gay.”

She reflexively does a little hop on the stool as a very high pitched “Holy shit…!” escapes her mouth, turning some heads. Seeing that it's the two of them up to their usual shenanigans, the few people return to their own worries and discussions.

It takes her inhuman effort not to screech like a hare on the spot; punching the air and gasping for it, she calms down eventually. Having found a semblance of self-restraint, she leans back down in, aggressively whispering to him: “First of all, told you so, and more importantly!! Bitch, you're in love, and didn't tell me?!”

As much as Hawks enjoyed watching her outburst, he finds himself sinking behind his arms now. The incessant grin is back in its full glory and is starting to hurt his cheeks, which have turned very pink in color. An unconvincing “nah” is the only thing he can muster.

Rumi breaks into some light-hearted cackling as she moves over, then gently peels Hawks’ defenses off of him to have a closer look. “Bruuuh…! You are in full rose textured shojo manga mode. That's adorable.”

There’s an attempt at rebuilding said defenses. “Shut it, you overgrown furry.”

She’s unperturbed by the lukewarm defensive taunt. “And you kinda smell like smoke from up close, too~ It’s your first love, right? Aaah, baby boy’s growing up, I’m so happy for you…!” With that, Hawks receives a spine shattering hug.

“Rumimyribs,” is all he can squeak before the gesture does more than just some joint popping. He’s had a near-death experience with these ever since the first time she did that, holy shit.

“Hee hee~ I didn’t forget you’ve got bones made of glass, don’t worry.” She pops back down onto her seat while Hawks gets over the scare. “Sooo... when are you gonna introduce me to your boyfriend?”

“It’s… just a crush, man. He’s… not my boyfriend…” Even thinking about it feels weird… and saying it… really is something else.

She nods. “He doesn’t know it yet! Gotcha.”

Siiigh. “Girl, I can’t just…” STOP, stop… hold the damn phone right there. Ending that sentence would birth more questions to dodge, and he’s not up for brain work at the moment. With a dismissive wave, Hawks restarts the answer. “Anyway, you've seen him already at the very least, so there’s that.” That's all she needs to know- they both know a number of people with fucked-up faces, she won’t admit possibly having missed him, and this… will destroy her.

“… well shit. Now I'll stay up at night wondering who the fuck it might be.”

Bingo. “You’re welcome.”

“Asshole,” she huffs, swatting his hair before settling for a good ruffling. “… say, baby bird.”

“Hm?”

“Want a drink? It's on me. Let's pop one in honor of your heart throb and first crush.”

... uh-oh. “… Rumi.”

“I hope you know this calls for some supreme shit… let me look for a good place nearby, for after this hell is over.”

She's already typing into her phone. Oh no.

“Rumi.” This does not bode well. He has so much shit to do tomorrow. And here’s this pile of junk, most of which he’s yet to have a look at…

“How’s a Zombie sound?”

“RUMI,,,”

[mikotoakujin]

( Muse - IC Questions )

[ Slowly going to post these onto all of my OC blogs, in honor of the fact charahub is going to die soon, and I only really used that for the questionnaire feature, I’m going to post questionnaires IC to my rp blogs. The questions were taken from here. You can do this too if you want!! Also yes, it’s IC unless there are brackets ]

1. Introduce yourself with the basics. (Name, Age, Simple description, Other relevant info.)

“Well, I’m Mikoto. I’m an angel, so I suppose that’s important. Age? Nineteen. [or currently 20 if you follow his birthdays since i made this blog] Well, I like to get out a lot and do things and talk to people. Not sure what else to say.” 2. What is your purpose or your biggest goal in life?

“Don’t have that much of a purpose other than being the next king in line whenever my father steps down. But my personal goal is to get more friends to hang out with, perhaps a lover. And also to better myself.” 3. Of all your belongings, which are most important to you? If there is a story about them, please share.

“I’d rather not share why, but my scarf is rather important to me. I never take it off, after all~! All I’ll say is that it was a gift.” 4. Who is your best friend, or the person you are closest to?

“...” [ Mikoto seems to be uncomfortable with this particular question. ] 5. Who are a few other people you know, and how do you feel about each of them specifically?

“So most of the other princes of their respective lands, some other people, and my parents? Well, I’ll just be quick then because there are a lot. Laphomet’s nice and we hang out sometimes despite being respectively demonic and angelic princes, Mochu is alright but kinda keeps to himself, got no fuckin’ idea about Monarch, mom’s a bitch, dads okay but out more often than not.” 

[ your muse can also be added here if you message me KJdncdjnd.. other peoples muses have links attached. my other characters don’t. ] 6. Do you have any romantic interests, or have you in the past?

“Well... a few, but only one of them returned feelings.... then they were taken away from me...” [ He seems uncomfortable going into further detail. ] 7. What is your general outlook on life? Are you optimistic, pessimistic, or maybe just very neutral? 

“Well, it honestly depends, but I’m mostly neutral about everything. I try to be more positive nowadays, but sometimes it just isn’t worth the troubles.” 8. Describe your relationship with your parents. If they're no longer alive, how did that happen? How do you feel about it?

“As I said, mom’s a bitch, dad’s a lot better but away often.” 9. What is your favorite childhood memory? Make it a happy one!

“The time me and my dad went out and got some candies and sweets...” 10. Do you have any siblings? If so, talk about them. If not, do you wish that you did?

“Having siblings would probably help my mental state. I don’t think I have any siblings but I wouldn’t be surprised if that whore of a mother has a lot more children.” 11. What are your favorite things to eat and drink?

“Well, I personally like wine. It’s nice. I prefer to eat salty things over anything else, so thats why I like chips, and fries, and all’a that.” 12. Who is somebody that you look up to?

“If I think really hard I might find an answer, but I don’t want to. So, nobody in particular.” 13. When you're alone, how do you like to spend your time? Hobbies and Interests?

“Well, I just walk around places trying to find things to do and socialize. Nothing much more than that.” 14. What is something you're really good at?

“Uh.... Maybe... rpgs and Fire Emblem / strategy games...?” 15. What is something you're really bad at?

“Knitting and sewing. Although, I want to be good at it.” 16. What is something that you're constantly working on improving?

“Personality and how calm I am.” 17. Share a memory that involves the person you are closest to.

“No thanks.” 19. What is a custom of your family or culture that you participate in?

“I dunno, we sometimes have festivals? We have the same holidays as humans, but with slightly altered names and there’s always a celebration for it no matter how small the holiday is. Dress fancy, eat food, go to parties and maybe get drunk, and participate in the festivities. We also somehow have a seasonal amusement park. It doesn’t fit into the theme of the fact that our little floating island looks like it was taken out of a medieval fantasy book, so it clashes a lot.” 20. How well educated are you? Do you speak more than one language? Are you well studied in a specific subject?

“Well, as a high royalty figure, I was basically forced to learn a bunch of languages so I can communicate with everyone - a good skill for a leader or person who travels a lot to have. Fortunately, I learned most of these languages alongside english, so it was much easier. I am still most fluent in english, though.” 21. What was your childhood like in general? Sad? Happy? All over the place? Describe it.

“Probably the last one mixed with sad. Not going into any more detail.” 22. Are you at all religious? What do you believe happens when you die?

“Well considering I’m an angel, I’m either already dead or some form of immortal. Probably. I have no fucking idea what happens when someone dies, don’t want to find out.” 23. Describe your clothing and your usual style. 

“My style - at least in what I usually wear - is very hard to describe I guess? How do you describe these clothes? How.” 24. Do you have a job or attend school? If so, what is your job or what are you learning in school?

“Already been to school. Recently got out actually. Although, I’ll probably be shoved back in, except into college this time. being royalty means you have to have good education and good everything and god knows my parents are going to shove it down my throat. Although, since my “”job”” is going to be being a future leader, what the hell are they going to make me take in College...?” 25. Do you have any tattoos, markings, or scars on your body? What are they like?

“My younger - about fifteen to seventeen - year old self pondered on tattoos a lot, but ultimately decided against it. I have a lot of scars or wounds or whatever. It’s why I wear bandages. You can probably guess what they are, considering I’ve (somehow) never burnt myself or had any long lasting bruises.” 26. Is there anything about your appearance that you would like to change?

“Not in particular, no.” 27. Aside from your closest friend, who would you like to enjoy a relaxing afternoon with?

“A lover, but since I don’t have one, likely Laphomet. Actually, maybe one of the more refined princes, since Lapho would just ruin the atmosphere probably.” 28. Do you listen to or create music? Do you enjoy it? 

“I’ve tried my hand at creating music, didn’t work out. I also used to play the violin, but it evolved into playing the harp as a hobby. I’m pretty decent at it. Also, my tastes in music are kinda all over the place but I like videogame osts more than anything.” 29. What is something about the world you live in that is constantly on your mind? (War, Political Unrest, etc)

“The fact that the current leader is a piece of shit. And no, not my dad. The other one. The female one.” 30. If you were to pass a homeless person in the streets, what would you do?

“So it’s not like I have high taxes to pay off or anything, I’ll just give them 100 dollars, maybe food, and be on my way.” 31. Where were you born, and where do you live now?

“Live in the same place I was born. Although, somehow the floating continent of whatever the fuck can grow for some reason, and it’s grown quite a bit since I as a kid. At least, according to my dad. Hell, at this rate maybe we’ll actually get advanced technology and buildings, and it’ll actually look like how it should for this generation!” 32. Do you prefer Spring, Summer, Autumn, or Winter? Why? “Winter. It’s cold. I like cold. Although it’s awkward because the fact that my clothes expose a lot of skin so they’re more fit to spring and summer. Thankfully, they got people to make me a winter form of my royal clothes. A fluffy coat.” 33. What is something you dream of accomplishing, but don't think you ever will?

“I mean, meeting them again is literally impossible, so yeah I don’t think i’ll be doing that.” 34. What's something that would make you really angry?

“Uh, slurs, shit-talk about my friends, stuff like that.” 35. What's something that calms you down when you're angry?

“Friends, alcohol, food. And just generally rest.” 36. Do you struggle with any physical or mental disabilities?

“I might’ve had depression somewhere in my life, probably still have it to a smaller extent. I miiight be bi-polar or some other mental disability but I haven’t gotten checked for those things, so maybe I’m just jumping the gun.” 37. What are your three best and three worst personality traits?

“Well, best? Don’t like to really brag or suck my own dick, but I guess I’m nice to my friends, rich (it’s a personality trait now), and kinda grateful?... I’m trying to be more forgiving. And the worst, well, there’s a lot but mostly possessive, obsessive, and passive-agressively, or just generally rude. Also low patience, but I try to play it off like I have high patience.” 38. Did you have any friends as a child that you are no longer in contact with? 

“Stop.” 39. If you fight with weapons, what are they? If not, what weapons do you think are cool?

“Did you not notice the giant fucking scythe on my back? Well, I guess sometimes I don’t carry it, but I always have these two little daggers with blue hilts on me at all times. The little tail-cloth-thing hides it, but they’re in my pockets.” 40. Do you identify as the gender you were born with? 

“Mostly. Might be demiboy. Might be nonbinary. When I was born I was technically nonbinary but I slowly I somehow grew... that, so I might be biologically male. I’m not sure.” 41. What is your sexuality? Are you treated any differently for it?

“I’m bi. Attracted to everyone more or less. I like guys or male-presenting people a little more though, girls kinda make me uncomfortable due to the biggest female-figure in my life being a bitch, probably. If anyone has an issue with it I curbstomp them.” 42. What is an accomplishment that you are proud of?

“Somehow being a good student in school I guess? It IS satisfying to get those weird grades where it’s over 100, or above an A.” 43. How did you meet your closest friend?

“.......Maybe I’ll tell you if I actually fucking knew you?” 44. How did you meet your second closest friend?

“Don’t know who I qualify as my second closest. I’d say Lapho, but it kinda depends on mood. But I met all my royalty friends cuz’ my parents when I was younger took me to a different school when we didn’t have one up here yet. All the rich and royal people went there, and the princes and princesses n shit’ were in special classes. So that’s how I found those guys.” 45. Do you have any enemies? Who are they, and why are you enemies?

“My mother. It’s pretty obvious that I hate her. Not going to tell you why; use context clues.” 46. What is something that annoys you?

“My mother as well.” 47. What is a mistake that you've made in your past? Do you regret it?

“Yeah, a lot. Kinda indirectly caused someone's death, so y’know.” [ He kinda seems on the edge a little due to this answer. ] 48. Have you traveled a lot? What was your favorite part of it? If not, where do you want to travel to?

“Yeah, I travel all around the place. Having wings and teleportation is nice, but also sucks major ass at least right now because I still at least get a headache from using teleportation [and on top of that because I’m not that skilled in it yet, it can be unstable], and I get tired quickly by flying.” 49. Are you comfortable around people? Could you befriend a stranger, if given the opportunity?

“Well, as a prince and once again as a future leader, you kinda have to know how to talk to someone even if they’re a complete stranger. So the answer is yes.” 50. Have you ever been in a life or death situation? If so, what was it? 

“Few times. Usually started by the same person. Although, I’m still here, so unless by some mind-fuckery I’m actually in a coma dream or I’m a ghost, then I’ve survived all of those situations. And to make it simple, assault and abuse are the situations usually.”

51. Do you want to get married one day? What are your thoughts on children?

“Most people are surprised when I tell them this, but yeah. I really wanna get married, have some kids (probably adopted or from a surrogate mother since I prefer guys), treat them 500 times better than my mom because she can’t parent for shit, etcetera.” 52. In terms of social status, where do you stand?

“High. Once again, prince. Royalty. My dads related to or is a descendant of god or some shit, so that helps.” 53. Does anybody rely on you for something?

“Not that I know of...? I mean, one guy for some dumb scientific materials but y’know.” 54. Do you rely on anybody for something?

“I’d say I rely on my friends for happiness but I don’t know how true that is. I mean, it’s true, but I could still live without them; just very unstably.”

55. What is a cause that you fight for?

“The national ‘Children having not-shit parents movement’.” 56. Have you ever been drunk or otherwise intoxicated? If so, what is something that happened while you were?

“Well, I think I first got drunk at like, 15 or 16, and I was pretty lightweight then, so I dunno how it exactly went but I think I as stumbling around [ as you do when drunk ] and kinda subtly flirting with people. Well, just complimenting them in weird ways, really.” 57. Is there anybody you would die for?

“It’s a little bit too late for that.” 58. Think of a friend or acquaintance you haven't yet spoken of. How do you feel about them?

“..Sorrow,” He as quick to change the topic; “ALTHOUGH, I have technically spoken about that person, just haven’t mentioned names, so onto another mutual, Nova! They’re weird as all hell and live on a kingdom on top of the aurora borealis for some reason. And then there’s Somnus and Friends! (well, more like Somnus and his two guards that may or may not have relations) They’re cool. Somnus and his worlds people are dragons that are just usually in humanoid form. It’s chill.” 59. Are you competitive? Do you engage in any sports or competitions?

“I heavily dislike sports, but I do get competitive in games. Videogames or things like boardgames or drunken party games.” 60. Are you creative? If so, what do you like to create? Are you good at it?

“I’m ok at drawing, I strive for semi-realism when I do draw, and it is fun! So I might get into it more. Although, right now I’m more well-versed in writing.” 61. What are you the most afraid of in the entire world?

“Nothing really...? Actually, losing a friend. Happened once, I don’t want it to happen again.” 62. Describe, start to finish, an average day in your life. 

“Uh, wake up, maybe go on the internet or play videogames, go out, drink a lot of wine and eat a lot, socialize, go to a different place or go home, go on the internet again, screw up my sleep schedule for the fifth time, sleep.” 63. Do you celebrate any holidays? If so, which is your favorite? What is your favorite memory from that holiday?

“You know most of me and my friends say this, and it isn’t really a holiday, but birthdays. Although christmas and halloween are close runner ups. Christmas because I usually spend it with my friends [ and I get a ton of presents from the weird people in town who thirst over me or generally like me ], I get some presents from my dad, I put coal in my moms pillow, and yeah. Also Halloween has some nice costumes, and I like candy.” 64. Would you prefer a peaceful nature walk or a trip to a busy city?

“Nature walk. Nature relaxes me a lot more than some loud crude city. Although the cities fine too, I’m just too used to it.” 65. Growing up, did you have any important teachers or mentors? What's the most important thing they taught you?

“My school counselor was pretty chill. She told me not to be something I’m not, and that helped me get more motivation to improve.” 66. If your parents or mentor knew everything about you today, would they be proud of you?

“If we’re still talking about my counselor, to be honest, I saw them between my in-between phase of edgy dumbass, and my phase of edgy ruse dumbass, so they’ve seen me at my worse.” 67. What is something that excites you or makes you really happy?

“When I find out someone I know is actually like... gay or trans or something? That’s always cool. Or into something I really like to ramble about or need someone to talk about with.” 69. Do you have any really important secrets, or are you generally secret free?

“Are you expecting me to say something sexual because its the sixty-ninth question? Well fine. I am not a virgin but I still consider myself so because I’ve never had romantic sex (i’ve only had sex around 3-5 times) but for a non-sexual answer, I’m mostly secret free. I’m good at keeping them, but for personal secrets, if you catch me in an emotional mood they may just slip.” 70. If you were walking on the streets and you were attacked, do you think you could fight and win?

“Definitely.” 71. Have you ever killed somebody? If so, why and how? If not, do you think you ever would?

“No, surprisingly not. Well, I did indirectly.... kind of..” 72. What is your strongest physical trait? (Fast runner, very strong, super flexible, etc)

“I’m quick, have good reflexes, and yeah I’m pretty flexible. I can do a split if I wanted.” 73. Have you ever been in love? If not, do you want to be? If so, with who, and are you still? If you aren't, how did it end?

“Yes, not answering, person isn’t here anymore. And I do want to be in a relationship or have someone I like or who is a mutual have a crush on me, as well.” 74. When you're alone and relaxing, what are you usually thinking about?

“Usually about the past or the future.” 75. Do you have a lot of responsibilities? If so, what do they include?

“Well, if you couldn’t tell from past answers, once again, being royalty is fucking annoying even though you get everything handed to you, you still have to work hard to fit into peoples expectations.” 76. Have you ever felt really guilty about something? If so, what was it?

“Youuuu know how... I’ve been talking about.. uh. Causing someones death indirectly? Yeah. That.” 77. Do you have any habits, ticks, quirks, or anything like that?

“Quite a few, I won’t list all of them but, I’m left handed, I tend to do tricks with whatever I’m holding without noticing if I’m bored or waiting for something, if I feel threatened my wings will open up a lot, if I feel sad they’ll usually scrunch up a lot more. Y’know.” 78. What complaints do you have about your best friend?

“If you mean the alive ones, none. I mean, flaws make a person who they are.” 79. What complaints do you have about your next closest friend?

“Also none.” 80. Do you have any special abilities or talents?

“Flight, teleportation, I’m slowly gaining more and more magics - courtesy of my parents, I guess - but they’re weak - my strongest magic ability right now is controlling thunder, though.” 81. Do you have any addictions or obsessions? 

“Wouldn’t say I’m addicted to alcohol, but I do drink it a lot.” 82. What drives you? (Your motivation or inspiration) 

“I’m motivated because of the fact I still have so much to see, improve, and learn.” 83. What do you find attractive in a person, both physically and in terms of personality?

“Clean-shaven, tall and thin, I can go for any personality really, but preferably at least is kinda nice and charming, male probably, and uh... glasses are cute. Wow I sound like a typical girl describing their dream crush, huh? Well, to be fair, I’m mostly fine with anything.” 84. What do you think a stranger's first impression of you would be?

“Depends on what my outwards personality is like at the time, but generally well-mannered if not a little bit weird at times.” 85. Are you ashamed or embarrassed about anything?

“Quite a few things. Like I said, I didn’t have genitalia at birth so that was something.” 86. Would you consider yourself to be trustworthy and honest? Would you lie if it benefited you?

“Sadly, I’m pretty good at manipulation and tactics for it, so I will lie if it benefits me or if I feel like I have to, although if I trust the person then I try to be much more honest.” 87. Has anything huge happened in your life that you feel shaped or changed the person you are today?

“The loss of my childhood friend turned me to hate and absolutely despise my mother. Even though she abused me before, I just took it and didn’t say anything, but when she did it to him it was much more personal and shocking... ah, there’s that... again.. my dumb fucking habit of overstaying my welcome with secrets I’m supposed to bottle up inside me and keep until I die. A-anyways.” [ He seemed to get emotional at the subject, but it seems like he was keeping that inside him for a while. ] 88. What are some of your short term (less than 1 yr) goals?

“Uh... bettering myself will probably take longer than a year, so, maybe taking up gardening and stuff like that. He did that. It was nice..” 89. How do you deal with stress? How do you respond to stressful situations?

“With extreme emotional backlash, usually. It depends on the current situation, level of stress, and if I’m in public or not, or if the stress was brought on by a person, but assuming the level of stress is pretty high, I’ll either become really angry, really sad, or just walk somewhere private and let out emotions there.” 90. What is something that most people don't know about you?

“I like old-timey things and vintage stuff. Like obviously more modern than medieval era, but old enough that it isn’t used much in the new generations. Also I think the way people dressed in older times was funny. Also also, history is one of my favorite classes which is odd to most people since I don’t seem like the guy to care about what happened in the past, I suppose.”

[pisica-de-scris-blog]

Ok, so this is my first time posting any of my own work on Tumblr for other people to read.   its just one scene from a current WIP novel.     It’s still REALLY rough   i am just trying to get the first draft of the entire novel done  then i will go back and do massive editings for content, writing style  ect ect       but i wanted to be brave and put something out.  

Walking in the front door of the two story house I share with my bestie, her mother and her little sister, ok share is a strong word… walking into the front door of my best friend’s house that I am currently squatting in,  thats better, I starting calling out for Tori.     “She isn't home” I hear from the living room,  I drop my bag and my books by the front door and hop over the couch landing on the cushion next to Vivi, almost knocking the bowl of popcorn off her lap.   This obnoxiously smart 12 year old, wears her  blond hair in pig tails, to make her self look even younger, mostly to lure innocent bystanders into her web of deceitful cuteness in order gain sympathy or candy. I still haven't figured out if she is just working the angle she was born with, or if she is really an evil genius who brandishes her cuteness like a broadsword. Seriously it doesn't matter the situation, she can get whatever she likes from almost anyone, and if they wont give it to her right out, she will get it by any means necessary, she is ruthless and her petite frame and all around adorableness, makes people underestimate her intelligence.  Which is something that I don’t know if that makes me admire her more, or if I am a little afraid of her.  Probably both.   Defiantly both.  One time I saw her con a bunch of teenagers out of about $20 worth of pixie sticks. Do you know how many pixie sticks that is?  Hundreds.   Meh, mean at least she shared.  She, Tori and I went on a 3 day non-stop sugar induced movie marathon.  The eventual sugar crash was hard, but worth it. At least until we found out that she recorded Tori and I singing everysong in Grease, loudly and very badly while watching the movie.  She hasnt put that video on social media yet, she says she wont.  But I see her little evil mind saving it for it’s epic black mail potential. “Where is your wayward sister?”  I question stealing a handful of popcorn.   “She went for a run, something about overbearing life choices and blah blah blah,  I don't know, I tune her out when she starts talking about college and responsibilities and adulting.  I mean really I am 12  I don't want to hear about adulting, or choices that impact your whole life.  That shit is scary.” “You have no idea kid,  but watch the fucking language.”  I smirked at her. “Ok so what are we doing until she gets home?” “Well, I finished all my homework for the next few days,  really this stuff is too easy.  So I was thinking about begging you to order a pizza,breaking out the big puppy dog eyes if I need to” She looked up at me starting to make her eyes really big. “Pizza sounds good, put the puppy dog eyes away” laughing at her antics I grabbed the computer to place the order. “ and then can we maybe binge watch some netflix.  Since mom is away do you think we can watch that show with the one main character who has to be slutty or she starves… and has the awesome best friend with epic fashion sense?” “No, you are too young for that show” “But I am really old for my age, I mean you know I am already soo much smarter than anyone else my age, and most ages. So I should be able to handle more mature TV shows too.” Vivi started rambling, getting ready for a fight to watch this show. “Your humility is heart-warming really,but your mother would skin me alive.  And then who would order you pizza with pineapple on it, which by the way is gross.” “It is not, but fine..   Hot hunter bros it is then.” As I finish ordering the pies Vivi queues up the show on netflix and hands me a brush,  I start absent mindedly running it through her hair as we wait for our dinner.   My mind doesn't focus on the tv  it keeps running through the events at the parlor.  I need to know who those guys where.  What they know about my mother, I mean she died in childbirth, and left me alone with an alcoholic father. Or did she?  Maybe there are things I don't know.  My father never really talked about my mother while sober, but if he was drunk and feeling nostalgic, he would ramble about her.  I could sometimes make out some of what he said in between sobs and hiccups before he passed out.    He would call her his angel and how she radiated this beautiful light.   I always thought that maybe her death is what drove my father mad and it was my fault she died.  What if there is more to the story? Maybe she was also in whatever this mafia or gang thing is that Cole is tied up in.  I should of questioned Cole before I left. I should of made her tell me what was going on, and how my mother was involved. Instead I ran. Why do I always run before thinking?   About 20 minutes into the first episode I notice that it is starting to get dark out, and Tori still hasnt gotten home.  I know she drives to well lite parks to run and she tries to stay safe, but I will always worry about her.  She watches the news and knows what can happen, so I know she is practical.  But she has never had to face any violence. She has never had to fend off an attacker, and she doesn't always realize that being practical and trying to be safe, doesn't really  mean she is safe.  And the pizza will be here in another 20 and I have seen that girl eat.  It’s scary.    Just as I am about to call her to check her ETA my phone starts to vibrate Tori’s name popping up on the screen. “Oh my god, why don't people just text, seriously who uses their phone to call anyone anymore.  Don't they know they are interrupting my viewing pleasure. How rude!” Vivi grumbles, as she turn the volume on the TV up a few more notches.  I can feel the annoyance radiating off of the small blond, so I grab my phone and take it into the kitchen to answer it. “Hey Tori, are you on your way home?  I ordered pizza. The small blond and I have started the demon-hunting without you.” I say into the phone. “Really, one would think having the pizza first would help with the demon hunting.  I mean you could use the pizza as a very effective bate to lure a poor unsuspecting demon into your trap before you spring and attack him with your no doubt alluring feminine wiles.  Now is there a sign up list for demons to volunteer or do I just have to wait for you to find me?” A smooth deep and very male voice spoke over the line. “Who the fuck is this, and why do you have my friends phone.” I could feel the rage in my voice masking over the fear. “Whoa chicka calm down. My name is Murmur.  Your friend was in a little car accident, she is fine, but she is staying here tonight with us” I could just hear the smug smile in this assholes voice.  That just fueled my rage.  Take a deep breath I try to keep my voice calm and quiet, I dont want to worry the small blond before I have to. “Oh, I am sorry, are you a medical professional calling from the hospital to inform me to come pick up my friend?” I ask, my tone dripping with sarcasm.  “No? Well then maybe you should give the phone to my friend so she can tell me where to come pick her up. And I swear to god if a single hair on her head is even slightly out of place I will own your ass. Do I make myself clear you arrogant douche nozzel. Now hand her the phone!”   Seriously I know life is a bitch, but today it is having puppies. This shit is ridiculous. “Douche nozzel,  you know if I had feelings they might almost be hurt.  I mean I am trying to do the stand up thing here.  I helped rescue a damsel in distress, putting a smudge in my perfectly shiny white knight armor in the process I might add, and then I call her friend so no one worries about her.  And this is the thanks I get?  Harsh.” Under normal circumstances, I would find his banter amusing  if not even a little charming.  Today is not a normal circumstance.  In fact today, all his witty banter has done is insure that any regret I may of felt about being a tad harsh is just gone. “Give Tori the phone” I growl. “No can do, cupcake. She is being seen by our Medic at the moment, and she is kinda out cold.  But I am being assured she is fine and I will have her call you when she is awake.    Tootles!”   The line went dead, oh   hell to the no.  Om Sarah  breath, inhale, exhale repeat as necessary. Once I am sure I am at least sort of in control of my rage, I calmly grab the phone, and call Tori’s cell.   Ok I will be civil, collected, calm and I dare say courteous, so I can find out what happened, where my friend is and get her home.   “Aw, sweetheart did you miss me already? Really its cute but its getting a little embarrassing.” The condescending male voice answers “WHO ARE YOU, AND WHERE IS TORI” Well, so much for calm and collected. “I told you, princess.  My name is Murmur, and your friend is fine. I will personally make sure she calls you as soon as possible. And since you have no idea where I am, or she is for that matter, and I have disabled the GPS on her phone, you are just going to have to take my word for it. And although I am sure you do a very sexy impersonation of a fire breathing dragon and are so ready to storm the castle to retrieve your wayward friend here, you wouldn't know what castle to storm. So you are just SOL.  Sorry Xena, no warrior princess impressions for you today, so put away the circle blade and have a seat, someone will contact you shortly.” Then the line went dead Calmly setting down my phone, so I dont throw it against a wall.  I take a few deep breaths to try and get my anger under control.  Breath in breath out  Breath in, breath out.   I start to repeat my mantra, “sun is warm grass is green, sun is warm grass is green….  Fuck this  sun is hot grass is fucking dead.”   Time to get some help and get shit taken care of,  heading back into the living room, I wonder how ethical my favorite small blond is. “Hey, Vivi..  If someone where to turn off the GPS in a cell phone,say Tori’s for example, could you still tell me where it is, or where it was when it was last turned on?”   Vivi turned towards me and raised an raising an eyebrow considered my question. “Could I?  Yes, I am all knowing and my powers of intellect are indeed beyond measure,  will I?   Well, its unethical, an invasion of privacy and illegal, so it depends on why and what I get out of it.” “I’ll learn how to play D&D and I will play for at least 2 hours once a month.” I offer knowing how badly she wants to play on a table top and not just with her friends on line. “3 hours twice a week, Tori plays too AND I get to watch the that show with the slutty not a demon chick” she countered. “No, I would let you watch it but your mom would kill me.  THen resurrect me just to off me again.   But I will agree to 2 hours once a week with me and Tori, and I will take you to buy more figurines.” “Fine, no show. But 3 hours once a week and one weekend a month where we play a long mission, I mean an all nighter with junk food and a lot of caffeine.” “You mean you want to take one netflix binge night and turn it into a D&D night?” “Yes” She nods “Done”  We shake on it and she grabs her laptop.  “So how long will this take you and your mad hacking skills” “I will have a location before the pizza gets here, and the delivery guy just pulled up.”  THe door bell rings and I go to answer the door. Once I am walking back to the living room with the boxes and a roll of paper towels to use as plates, Vivi already has the laptop open and sitting on the table. “She was at fountain head park running in circles, like a crazy person,  seriously who runs around a park In Arizona in the summer.  A small man made lake does not an oasis make.  Still hot, still crazy.  Anyway, then she left, or at least her cell phone did and the GPS was turned off in downtown phoenix. Right off central ave, in a really nice area. Looks like its right by those newish condos  the ones that look like a massive castle. She probably met some hot rich guy and is off making poor life choices.” “You hacked into the GPS on Tori’s phone and got all of that in two minutes?” I am just stunned.   “Ok first off its not like you asked me to hack the pentagon and get nuclear codes, honestly.   But no, I didn’t hack anything, mom has us all on a family plan for our phones, and she has some parental control thingys, so I just logged in and looked at the GPS logs,  then I used that with google maps and bam  info.  Common sense, really isn’t a super power ya know.”  She grabbed the pizza boxes from me and grabbed her first slice of pineapple pizza and started picking all the pineapple off. “I also went ahead and checked her car’s GPS and emergency system thing. It was also at the park,  but it logged a minor accident.  The incident report says it was a minor accident no injuries, and only a little cosmetic damage to the car itself. It said owner verbally confirmed no injury and that they had someone who would take the car to get it repaired.  It also noted police were not called, and that insurance would not be used because the other party was at fault and is paying for the damages out of pocket.  Since the report said owner verbally confirmed I am not overly worried.  Tori, isnt dumb and she is a big girl she can take care of herself.” I am not worried.”   I hate to admit it, but I think she is right.  I did get a call saying she was alright, and as long as I get another call in a few hours I shouldn't start panicking. She probably did find some hot guy and is making poor life choices. It isnt something she does often but it has been known to happen. Plus, she has been super stressed lately  maybe it will do her some good. “Fine, if you are soo smart tell me why, for the love of god, you make me order pineapple pizza and then pick all the pineapple off?” “Because I don't like to eat the pineapple, I just want a little pineapple flavor, like pineapple essence pizza, now can we get back to supernatural?  Or would you like me to get you the D&D guide, I play the 5th edition.”  As we settle on the couch ready to watch a few more episodes and eat our cheesy greasy dinner of awesome, I cant help but to think about Tori and where she is and if she is ok. Most of what Vivi told me matches the story that guy with the weird name said, but its just not really clicking me for me.  When I pick up my phone I see a text from a number I dont know. Unknown: Hey warrior princess, I figured you might be a little pissed off with our previous conversation, so I figured I would shoot you a message to assure you, again, that your friend is ok.  I would really hate for you to tail spin into an evil plot to hunt me down and murder me. And if I am being completely honest,  your cute little threats are pretty sexy, so I was hopeing for a few more of those to hold me over for the night. My god the nerve of this guy. Who the fuck talks like this? Sarah: OMG Douche nozzle,  you are disgusting.  But why would a text from an unknown number make me feel better about you kidnapping my friend? Unknown: Again  the name is Murmur,  not douche nozzle, but I will answer to mother fucker.  And here, for your piece of mind and spank bank.   I cant help a quick laugh as a picture comes through on my phone of a very attractive man who is doing the worse duck lips face I have ever seen in true selfie tradition. Sarah: And what exactly is that picture suppose to prove?  How do I even know that is you.  You probably googled selfie and just downloaded the pic of the first almost attractive person you saw. Unknown: that is a pic of me I just took  #nofilter   and what do you mean ALMOST attractive.  I will have you know I am considered adorable by some, pretty     by most and 100% fuck-able by all.   But I sent the pic so if your friend isnt home by tomorrow morning, you know what to look for when you start hunting me down for the maiming. Sarah: I still dont believe its you, you could be starting me on a quest to go hurt some innocent little European model while you are at home, in your moms basement eating nachos and playing World of Warcraft after selling my friend into slavery. Unknown: Ok dollface, what will it take for you to believe that is me.   And dont think for a second that I didn't notice you said I looked like a European model,  seriously I am blushing over here. Sarah:  send me a pic with a fork balancing on your nose. Unknown:  … uh  ok   give me a min.  I actually have to get up and find a fork. A few moments go by and my phone chimes with another message.  Its a picture of the same man balancing a fork on his nose. I stifle the a laugh and the true ridiculousness of this pic, and I save it to my phone and create a contact for this guy.  I need to save his number so I can make sure he gets Tori home. Kidnappy douche nozzle:  Believe me now sweetness? Sarah: Well that could be anyone with a fork on their nose Kidnappy douche nozzle:  Really, Really?  Riddle me this batgirl why would anyone take that pic, except in this specific situation.   Sarah:  Fine,  so the pic is you.  But that doesnt mean you have my friend and she is safe or that you are bringing her home. Kidnappy douche nozzle:  Well I would take a pic of your friend for you, but she is in my friends bed, and from what I have been told  taking pictures of women in bed without their knowelege is frowned upon.   Its just past the level of creepy I am willing to go to,  even for  a feisty thing like you.   Now it only seems fair that since I sent you 2 pics you send me atleast one  ;) Sarah: Life isnt fair, I am not sending you anything.   But you will return my friend in the morning or all hell will break loose and I will kill not only you     but everything you have ever even liked. Kidnappy douche nozzle: I will keep you updated on whats going on and when she is headed back home. Sarah:  then you may yet survive this. Kidnappy douche nozzle: now kitten, dont make promises you arnt willing to keep.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #170

this one’s a few days old and am just getting to posting it. don’t feel like rereading to change some old answers tho.

Do you tell your best friend everything? What might you omit? If she asked about a subject, I'd tell her. I wouldn't just be like "hey here's a little factoid I don't like talking about." Have you ever experienced unrequited love? Yes. In your current or most recent romantic relationship, do/did you feel as though one of you settled? Not at all. What did your ex (or one of your exes) consider to be a dealbreaker in you? My depression. What seemingly small change have you made to improve your life this year? More drive to be an adult. Make the decision to try as hard as mentally possible to be more open about myself and not so scared of being found as "too weird." Does anyone in your family suffer from mental illness or substance abuse? Don't get me started on the first. I only know of my dad being a recovered alcoholic. What is the biggest gap in your employment history? How did/will you explain it to future employers? 0-19ish. Wasn't in the mental state to. Is there any part of your sexual/romantic history that you have not told your current significant other about or that you will not tell future partners about? She knows a lot. There's just one thing I'm not comfortable talking about yet. There's nothing I absolutely won't tell at any point - if you're in a serious relationship, they have the right to know. Has anyone ever tried to change your mind about something very personal, such as religion or wanting children? Children, yes. Colleen especially was convinced I was going to change my mind to an annoying degree. People have pushed me being a vet a whole lot, too. Do you ever hear about old school friends? Where are you high school friends now? Well, through FB. Most have stable jobs, some are extremely intelligent students headed towards amazing careers, some are parents. Most fell off the face of the earth. What is the most fun you can remember ever having under the influence? Cards Against Humanity. Has your Facebook relationship status ever been set to 'it’s complicated’? Why? Nooooo, and I seriously wish that option didn't even exist. Drama bait, whether intentional or not. What is the most beautiful/interesting name that you’ve ever personally known someone to have? Alon. Have you ever developed feelings for someone whose sexual orientation was incompatible with yours? Yes. How many relationships have you been in that actually got sexual? One. When making an entrance in to a party, do you make your presence known? Do you slip in and look for someone you know? Do you sneak in quietly and find a safe spot to roost? Me?????????????? At a party?????????????????????? What is your strongest sense? Maybe you don't count this because it's not a "real" sense, but I would say I have an incredibly strong "sixth sense" of just knowing when something is wrong, even with people I don't know well. I pick up bad emotions easily. But if you're just talking sight, hearing, taste, touch, and smell, I suppose smell? Or taste. Could be why I'm so picky. What is the strangest thing you believed as a child? There is NO telling. I believed some wild shit. HAHAHA OH MY GOD WAIT NO I BELIEVED I HAD "ANIMAL POWERS" UNTIL THE END OF ELEMENTARY SCHOOL. Like, I could go into a "mode" where I had capabilities like those in certain animals, like with kangaroo powers, I could jump higher. God that was so embarrassing to write jfc what the fuck was I on. Who performs the most random acts of kindness out of everyone you know? Mom. She gives food, water, and sometimes money to homeless people she trusts as actually being without a home. There are two or three people she's actually "friends" with. Are you more likely to avoid conflict or engage it head-on? A V O I D What is something about yourself that you hope will change, but probably never will? I make situations awkward. Just social anxiety in general. What’s a strange occurrence you’ve experienced but have never (or rarely) shared with anyone? Okay, so I don't think I believe in angels, and I'm 99% sure this was a dream by now. But once as a little kid, I have a *very* strong memory of getting out of bed and going outside because I felt I needed to see something, and two swans came to the porch, turning into my grampa and favorite cat that had died. Then I went back inside, and that's all I remember. Still to this day that shit didn't feel like a dream, but. It probably was. What do you think about more than anything else? The future. What’s your all-time favorite town or city? Why? I dunno. If you could restore one broken relationship, which would it be? The friendship with Megan. Do you Skype? With Sara. Have you ever called anyone ‘bro’ other than your actual brother? I'll call p much anyone that. Have you ever blocked someone on MySpace before? Maybe? What is the best kind of pizza in your opinion? Pan meat lovers omfg. Stick with jalapeno tho with trying to at least lean towards vegetarianism. Is there something that someone has done to you that you cannot forgive? Eh... I think I've forgiven him. Do you scream at scary parts in a horror flick? No. What is your favorite restaurant? Olive Garden. Has anyone ever drunk called/texted you? No. Are any of your pets “overweight”? No. How do you feel about weed? I'm totally for it medicinally. Helps with too many things. Otherwise, for reasons I've said in many old surveys, I don't believe it should be smoked. We already complain enough about cigarettes and lung cancer. How many people have you kissed that you weren’t dating? None. Who was the last person that ditched you? How did you react? Mini, I guess. Was hurt as fuck for years until I recently confronted her, and we're cool now. Who is your best friend of the opposite sex? Girt is like... my only male friend besides Dad. What size are the pants you’re wearing? Large, probably? Were you a fan of Michael Jackson before he died? I went neither way. Liked some songs, didn't like some, no opinion on others. Can you spot constellations in the night sky? Only the Big or Little Dipper. I dunno the difference. What kind of shampoo did you last use? I dunno exactly. Mom just put some in a smaller, nameless bottle for while I'm at Sara's. It's probably Suave, though. If you had a hippie bus, what would it look like? Gimme all the peace signs and trippy patterns. Have you ever hitchhiked? No. Would you rather hike a mountain or explore a cave? EXPLORE A CAVE BITCH Would you rather wear a flower crown or veil? For my wedding, probably a veil. I can't see a flower crown going with a (probably) black dress lmao. Do you go barefoot often? I'm always barefoot in the house, but outside, I always have shoes. What is your favorite thing to get high off of? N/A What type of tattoo do you want? Most of the ones I want hold personal meaning. There's few I want to get for solely aesthetic purposes. What is your favorite insect? Butterflies. Favorite constellation? *shrug* Beach wedding, forest wedding, or English countryside wedding? Forest! Does pineapple belong on pizza? NO. Do you have any big plans for November? No. What upcoming event are you most looking forward to? Christmas. I doubt Halloween's gonna be anything I'd like it to be. What was the last song you heard? "Letter" by Mother Mother is on. Compared to someone else of your age and gender; do you feel that you have a lot to offer someone? HAHAHAHA NO. How many days a week do you work? N/A Is there ONE person you feel more connected to than others? Sara and Mom. Where did your eye color come from? Mom's dad had blue eyes, I think. Have you ever been in a recording studio? No. What is your worst relationship quality? I'm paranoid. I'm that "do you still like me?" person after marriage, I'm sure. What was your most recent serious injury? Does sun poisoning from Hell itself count? When was the last time you baked something for someone? Never lmao. Would you rather be kissed on the neck or on the lips? I mean it depends on the mood. What is one thing you’re not looking forward to in the next week? I'm going home Wednesday. Would you consider Christmas your favorite holiday? Second-fave. How many chances do you normally give someone before giving up on them? Way too fucking many. But it also depends on the offense and person. Did you parents know what gender you were before you were born? Yeah. Are you for or against inter-racial relationships? Totally for. Would you say you’re more of a pessimist or optimist? I'm definitely a realist, but if I had to pick, I lean more towards pessimism. Have you ever been addicted to something unhealthy? No. When the holidays come around, do you watch holiday movies? Not really. Would you say you’re a friendly person or not so much? I think I'm very friendly, just shy and awkward socially. When was the last time you ate something from Burger King? LEMME TELL YOU THIS SHIT. Months ago, I went for a veggie burger. THESE. IDIOTS. Put all the normal shit BUT NO PATTY IN A FUCKING BUN. WHEN THEY HAVE ACTUAL VEGGIE PATTIES. We waited forever, so Mom was already in a bad mood. She went in and the manager was livid; she gave us a free drink and fries. BUT, the burger fucking sucked, it was so overcooked. Sooo that was fun. When someone mentions a song, does it make you wanna listen to it? Rarely if it's a song I don't know, unless I like the artist. Song title may interest me, too. Who is the nosiest person you know? Do you like them anyways? BITCH ME. Are you one of those people who like The Nightmare Before Christmas? Okay so, I first watched it in school and I didn't like it at all. Then I started loving it??? I have like sooo much Jack stuff. What’s the best food to have at a sleepover? Pizza! Do you like the yellow Cheetos better or the orange ones? You mean normal or hot? Gimme them spicy boiz. Do you know anybody with different colored eyes? No. Are any of your relatives vets? Don't believe so. Who cleans the most in your house? Mom. I really need to do it more. Do you own any shirts that cost over 100$? Jfc no. What about any shoes? Do you think that’s a lot of money for clothes? No, and obviously. What’s the movie theater in your town called? Uhhh I think Cinemax? How many minutes do you consider late? Over five. What kinds of food do you dunk into milk? Some cookies. Do you have any current or past teachers on your Facebook friends? No. Are there any baby pictures of you up? On FB? No. Do you have any friends who have bleached blonde hair? Maybe Alon still does, idk. Are you wearing any jewelry that a boyfriend/girlfriend gave you? No. Have you ever seen the last person you kissed cry? Yeah. What’s the last thing you were excited to eat? A donut sobs. Who's the most romantic person you ever went out with? I dunno... none were/are like especially romantic. Is there anything hanging from the ceiling in your room? Some Pyramid Head gift tags, a stuffed fae dragon from WoW, and a cool lantern. Have you ever seen the last person you hugged dressed up fancy? Not in person, but in pictures. (If your parents married), Do you know where they got engaged? No. What was the last picture you printed of? The reference I made of my tattoo for the artist. What restaurant has the best fries? Bojangle's the Queen. What does your mailbox look like? Just a basic black one. Have you ever gotten something stuck on the roof? Probs as a kid. Does your computer make a lot of noise? Not really. Unless it's overheating. Who did you last drink or smoke up with? Mom and Sara. How many board games do you own? Idk, there's just a few in a cabinet in the living room. What does your BIGGEST mug look like? We don't have any really big ones. Newest musical discovery? I really love Powerwolf. Last thing you cleaned? Clothes. What exactly do you carry around all your stuff in? Purse. What do you carry around, typically? Phone, iPod, wallet, hand sanitizer, keys... Where is your newest scar? There's still a little scab on the bottom of my tat from heavy shading, but it's almost healed. If you mean like, "real" scar, cat scratch on my right hand. Where is your oldest scar? Ummm probably this random one on the top of my right wrist. No clue where it came from, been there for years. Last thing you disposed of? A bottle, I think? Are you good at recovering from injuries? I dunno. How many different public restrooms have you used this week? I think just one, at the reptile convention. Do you have more piercings or tattoos? Currently tied at six, but piercings the day I get home and get my tongue redone. What color and type is your vehicle? N/A Looking to upgrade or add any time soon? N/A What animal do you have the most possessions *of*, or featuring? Meerkats. What do you use to wash your dishes? Ugh, hands, gross. I refuse to have my own home that doesn't have a dishwasher. Last thing you measured? Ummm probably water when I was making ramen. Last thing you weighed? Myself. Do you talk to your parent(s) [almost] every day? Ma, yes. Last person to tell you that you smell good? Sara although I don't see how, I needed a shower. @_@ Last person you told that they smell good? Sara. How many iPhones have you had? One, I think? Last person you ran into unexpectedly? Good question. Last compliment you received on your appearance? Uhhh idk. On your character/personality? Sara's mom pointed out this morning that she liked how I watch out for Sara and reminded her to call the library (applied there) and it made me so happy alkdjowie. Her approval is important to me. Do you remain friends with anyone you met at your first job? No. Woulda liked to, but. How many chargers do you have for your current cell phone? One, though Mom's fits mine, too. Do you have a good work/life balance? N/A Have you ever ordered pizza online? Yeah. Do you own a treadmill? No, but I want one. Have you ever signed up for a gym membership? Yeah. What color was the last fish you had? I couldn't tell you. Is there a garbage can in your room? What color is it? No. Have you ever read in the bathtub? I may've as a kid? Does your animal sleep with you? Roman, pretty much always. Rarely Teddy, but hhe doesn't like getting off the bed; I put him on it if he wants, so getting down's the only thing. Have you ever had to wear a hairnet? I think I have, but I don't recall for what? How many favorites do you have on YouTube? Holy shit idk. I used to favorite almost anything I liked, though for like a year or so now I've been really picky with what I favorite because it's become a playlist I go to that I know will cheer me up or are just videos I find very important. What kind was the last chip you ate? Uhhhh Lays, p sure. What is your favorite song to play on Guitar Hero or Rockband? I physically cannot play "Hotel California" by the Eagles without moving in some sort of way or singing.  The fucking solo ahhhhhhhhhh goosebumps every time.

[louisemwrites]

Hey, Bully

Summary: Uninhibited and happy-go-lucky Hannah Austin had thought she'd get through high school free from any worries and problems. But then she meets a guy who made her heart beat in a crazy way like never before. The same guy who was also determined to keep breaking it. Despite that, can Hannah endure losing him to protect herself from a big heartbreak? Or can she trust him with her heart again? 

First Cry

Skull was sitting next to me on the couch, holding me as I sobbed into his shirt.

One of his arms was around me, his hand rubbing and patting my back. How'd we ended up in this situation, I'd never know. All I remember was drinking too much alcohol and blacking out. When I came to, we were already in this position and I was already crying my heart out to the one person I’d never thought I would be with. Alone. I didn’t even know he would be at this party.

"Are you done, Hannah?" There was a tinge of amusement in Skull’s voice.

"Why am I crying?" I mumbled wetly, wiping my face on his shirt. "Why are you here?"

He groaned when he saw what I was doing. "Are you still not sober? Hell, where's Terry with that coffee?"

I lifted my head from his chest and blinked at him. "Did you hurt me?" I asked him suspiciously.

The only light in the room came from the lamp upon the table. Still, I saw how he stared at me in disbelief.

"No, I didn't,” he answered. “But apparently, from what I can understand from all your drunken blabbering, a guy named Asshole Will did."

"He's not an asshole!" I shouted.

"Hey, that's what you called him."

I glared at him, though where I found the courage to do so I didn't know when I was afraid of Skull the most among all of Leon's friends. Skull's lips twitched, like he was struggling not to laugh.

"Correct me if I'm wrong but were you referring to William Carter from South High Academy?" he asked. "The third son of the CEO of Carter International which operates a helluva lot of restaurant chains?"

"No," I denied lamely. How'd he know anyway?

"Wow, you're almost as bad as Sophia when she lies," he commented in a dry tone. "Do you mind getting off my arm? I've completely lost feeling of it."

I stared at him for a moment. Then let my gaze wander around. If I wasn’t mistaken, this was one of the upstairs rooms that weren’t open for visitors. There were shelves of books around the room and a desk by the window. It must the study room. How they convinced Jean, a senior and the owner of the house, to let us use the room, I didn’t care to ask.

“You are still not getting off me,” Skull said with a loud sigh and I returned my attention to him.

“I’m sad,” I rubbed my nose and sniffed loudly. “You should comfort me.”

He gave me a frown. “Do you want to have sex then?”

“No!” I burst out, slapping his shoulder. “No way! You remind me of my dead grandpa too much. There is no way—!”

“Your dead grandpa?” he began to laugh. “You mean Old Man Austin who smoked and swore too much?”

“Yeah,” I mumbled. “That’s why I’m afraid of you. Because you remind me so much of him especially when you smile.”

There was a twinkle in his eye when he said, “But not anymore?”

“I’m drunk.” I laid my head on his shoulder and sniffed again. “And I miss Will.”

“Asshole Will who didn’t text or call you and gave you the cold-shoulder?”

"Shut up!" I wailed, slapping his chest this time. "What do you know about unrequited love anyway?"

"I'm in a one-sided love for seven years. I think I know a thing or two about it."

That shut me up. Completely.

"S-seven years?" I stammered, straightening away from him, my eyes bugging wide. "Are you serious?"

"Dead serious," he answered with a grin.

"I have only been in love with Will for like a year and it already freaking sucks. I don't think I can handle seven years of it."

He patted my head. "Maybe you won't have to."

"Who's the girl?” I leaned towards him. “Anyone from East Private?"

"I'm not telling you," he chuckled. "Now tell me more about Asshole Will. How'd you fall in love with that twat anyway?"

"Wow," I glowered at him. "You expect me to tell you when you won't tell me anything about this secret girl?"

"Not even Leon, John or Rohan knows about my unrequited love. And I'm hoping you can keep that a secret."

Now that was a burden I didn't want to take. Keeping secrets was almost an impossible task with me.

"So tell me." He got comfortable on the couch, like he was preparing himself for a long story. "Why'd you fall in love with him?"

I stared at him for a while.

Then I told him.

- - - - - - - - - - 

"You said you liked me," Mark whined as he followed me in the park. "Why are you being like this?"

"I'm not going to have sex with you in your car just because I said I like you," I snapped over my shoulder. "Go away. I'm done with you."

Seriously, I was done with him. I thought he was a good guy when we met at a friend’s summer party so I agreed to go to the movies with him. But then he started to get a little bit handsy in the car on the way and even suggested we skip the movies to go to his house instead. I should have known he was a guy who thinks with his dick.

Mark suddenly grabbed my arm roughly and whirled me around. "Listen up, you bitch. I don't know why you're acting coy. I thought you wanted this."

Alarm bells rang inside my head and I tried to pull my arm away from his grasp. "Let go, you bastard."

"Come on, baby," his tone turned coaxing as he leaned closer to me, "You know you want me. Why else would you wear such tight clothes. Fuck, but your tits look awesome in that top."

"Mark, I swear to God if you don't let go—"

“Then let’s not do it all the way,” the crazy asshole dared to even suggest. “I’ll even let you be on top, alright?”

“Screw you. Just let go!”

“Come on, Hannah—.”

"Let her go."

My eyes flew over Mark’s shoulder and I froze. Standing behind him was a tall, taller than Dickhead Mark,  and very good-looking guy around our age who was glowering at the hand wrapped tightly around my arm. He had short platinum blond hair and blue almost purple eyes and was wearing a simple white tee, black jeans and white sneakers. He wasn’t that big but he wasn’t lanky either. Simply put, he was gorgeous.

“Let her go. You’re hurting her.”

Mark sneered at him. “This is none of your business, pal—.”

The guy took a step forward, making Mark tilt his head back to look up at him. He was that tall.

“Let. Her. Go,” he repeated and enunciated carefully.

And his expression was that of black thunder that made a chill glide down my spine. Mark would be an idiot not to mind that look. And luckily, he wasn’t.

His face as red as my hair, he let go of me, mumbling, “Fuck this. You aren’t worth it.”

Then he left, mumbling more about how much of a tease I was.

I paid him no mind. My eyes were on the tall drink of a guy. The guy stared back down at me and I was sure he was seeing the admiration on my face. I didn’t care if he did. He was my knight-in-shining armor. My superman. My prince. My—.

“That was all your fault, you know.”

At that, my thoughts screeched to a halt and my crush died before it even really started.

“Excuse me?”

"If you had worn respectable clothes, then you might have not been assumed the worse."

I glowered at him. "You are judging me by my choice of clothes. Who the fuck do you think you are?" I took a step forward and poked him on the chest. “That’s what’s the problem with you men. You assume that everything a girl does is all about you. It’s summer. It’s hot. Hence, the tank top, short and kimono cardigan. I did not dress up thinking about that asshole who just left. I’m sensitive to heat, alright? It’s hot, alright?” I ended shouting.

He fell silent and stared at me. I stared back at him, fuming.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I’m sorry for... for judging you. I know this isn't an excuse but I grew up in a rather conservative family. I’m really sorry."

I softened at the sincerity I heard in his voice. But it didn’t mean I was over my anger.

"You should change that way of thinking," I said snootily.

"Yes, I should." He nodded. "I also go to South High so I really don't have much interaction with females. I really am sorry for hurting your feelings."

South High? The city’s boarding school for boys? I'd heard rumors that it was such a strict and traditional school.

"Is this why you sound awfully formal?" I asked curiously.

He tilted his head to the side. "Do I?"

"Um... yeah."

He thought about it for a few moments, then shrugged, "I guess I am.”

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“I’m William. What’s yours?"

Good God, even his name sounded traditional.

"I'm Hannah," I shook the hand he proffered. "It's nice to meet you despite the circumstances."

He smiled.

"It's also nice to meet you, Hannah."

- - - - - - - - - -

"He sounds old-fashioned," Skull commented when I paused for breath. "And boring."

"Shut your mouth,” I snapped, pinching his side. “He's not old-fashioned or boring."

Skull snickered. “All South High boys are you know.”

"I'm not going to continue if you keep insulting him," I warned him.

He laughed and waved his hand. "Please. Go on."

- - - - - - - - - -

Will left a deep impression on me since the day we met. I had negotiated to call him Will instead of William and laughingly, he agreed. He bought me ice cream and we sat on a bench in the park where he listened to me rant for almost two hours about Dickhead Mark and how I hated guys who slut-shame women.

My mother called me then, raving about how I should be picking my little siblings up from karate class. Will waved a taxi over for me and even opened the door for me. I had never experienced something like that in my entire life and it made my crush on him deepened.

We agreed to meet at the park the next day. And the next. And the next.

Our conversations ranged from what we did with our family and friends over the summer to how we both liked dogs and what tricks we had successfully made our pets do. We also talked about our families. I told him about my younger siblings who made my life hell sometimes and he told me that his older brothers, Benedict and Charles, two and four years older than him respectively, also loved making his life hell with their antics. He didn’t say hell exactly because he was too polite. But I got the gist.

I was so comfortable with him that I could be real self with him. He was like nobody else in this world.

When I was with him, I felt like I was split in half. A part of me was on fire, wanting to touch him. Wanting to kiss him. The other part was calm like the ocean, just perfectly content, knowing that he might be the one for me.

It took me awhile to decide to tell him that I had feelings for him. I didn’t want to rush things unlike with the other guys I had previously liked and dated. I wanted to be sure with him. But unfortunately, just when I finally planned to confess my feelings for him a week before school started, Will didn’t appear at the park.

And he never did again.

- - - - - - - - - -

“Didn’t you have his number?” Skull asked.

I shook my head. “He said his phone got lost when he went surfing with his brothers.”

“Facebook?”

I shook my head again. “He said his parents didn’t want him to be on social media so he could focus on his studies.”

Skull’s brows lifted. “You know how fishy his excuses sound right?” he pointed out.

I couldn’t deny that.

But I didn’t want to tell Skull he was right because he’d definitely gloat about it so I continued my story.

- - - - - - - - - -

I thought that was the end of Will and me and it bummed me for days. But sophomore year came and it was back to school again. There was a new girl in my class, a pretty blue-eyed blonde named Sophia and I had made it my mission to win her friendship over. She helped distract me from thoughts of Will until I thought I had almost forgotten him. But then I met him again at my mother’s dinner party.

“Will!” I shouted excitedly, earning ire looks from the people who heard. I picked up my skirts, pushed past the crowd and stopped in front of him. “You’re Will, right?”

There was recognition in his eyes when he caught sight of me. But then, his eyes turned blank, he’d never looked at me like that before, and my happiness faded a little. Still, I pushed on.

“Remember me?” I asked him. “Hannah? From the park?”

“I’m sorry but no,” he said, politely distant. “I don’t know you.”

I blinked twice. “Oh.”

Bowing his head slightly to me, he muttered, “Well, if you will excuse me...”

Then he went to return to his table near the front of the restaurant.

I wasn’t devastated. But I was pissed. Whirling around, I walked to the ladies’ room to cool myself down because the urge to strangle him with his tie was almost too difficult to resist. He recognized me. He knew me. Why did he pretend he didn’t?

Realizing that I also need to pee, I went into one of the stalls to do the business. Just then, I heard the door outside open and two girls came tittering inside the ladies’ room.

“Did you see Hannah’s face?” one of them said and the urge to pee disappeared.

“I did. God, that was so embarrassing. And really, where did she get the guts to come and talk to William? How can one be so thick?”

My fingers clenched. I knew who these girls were. They were North High girls whose parents were also my mother’s clients.

“Like William would associate himself with girls like her,” one of them scoffed. “She’s a slut. Probably the sluttiest girl in East Private. I’d be embarrassed to be seen with her too.”

God damn it. It was probably Dickhead Mark who spread the rumors. That or April Locke who I had the displeasure of having a quarrel in the cafeteria when we were in middle school.

I was so angry that I almost went out of the stall to pull all their fake bleached blonde hair from their heads. But I stayed put, knowing that I would just feed the rumors if I did.

Sure. I wasn’t a virgin. I played around with guys for fun but I never played with their feelings. I never let them decide my value.

And it wasn’t like Will and I were in a relationship. I never even told him how I felt.

But why did it feel like I just got dumped?

- - - - - - - - - -

“Do you want me to do something with Dickhead Mark?” Skull asked.

I smiled. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me all night.”

Skull grinned. “Do you?”

Yawning, I shook my head, “I already kicked him in the nuts the day after the party. Then I spread a rumor that he was seen kissing a guy in the locker room.”

“That was you?” he threw his head back and laughed.

I smirked. “I’m really mean when I want to be.”

“I doubt Terry was happy with what you did.”

“She wasn’t. But she let it happen because she was pretty mad at Mark for what he did to me too.”

“Does she know about Asshole Will?” Skull asked curiously.

“Don’t call him that, alright?” I sighed. “And yeah. I called her after the party and asked her about Will.”

“What did she say?”

“She said what you said, that he’s the third son of a CEO,” I muttered in answer. “And a lot of things that I already know from talking with Will. But although he already told me that his family was really conservative, I didn’t know that his family was that uptight and conservative, basically a very traditionally wealthy family that were pretty much all about reputations. She also told me that when his older brothers were in school, they were involved in a lot of scandals because of their misdemeanors and outrageous behaviors so Will was basically his parents’ last hope since he was the good kid.”

“So basically, Terry’s saying that you might be a scandal,” Skull chuckled.

“I figured,” I wailed. “I’m not exactly lady-like. And I’m nouveau riche as they say.”

He shrugged at that. “So what happened next with Asshole Will?”

I let out a heavy sigh again.

And resumed the telling.

- - - - - - - - - -

“Hannah.”

I ignored the voice and kept walking through the thick throng of people. The orchestra was beginning to play and couples were beginning to walk into the dance floor.

“Hannah, wait!”

I was determined to ignore the voice. Just as the owner had ignored me and pretended not to recognize me the last time we met. But annoyingly, everytime he called my name, my muscles tensed and my heart beat quickened with expectancy. Every nerve in my body was yearning for him and it was all I could do not to move into his arms and tell him how much I missed him.

I didn’t know why he still affected me so much. It had been weeks since we last saw each other.

Terry was still engaged in conversation with the guests of their party and I waited patiently by her side until she had no guests to entertain.

"You look really beautiful tonight," I told her once the guests had moved on. "I absolutely love your dress. It must have cost a fortune. I look like a troll next to you."

"You don't look like a troll, Hannah," she replied loyally. "No one could ever make you look like a troll."

"I do look pretty, right?" I giggled. I was wearing a pale green dress that suited me perfectly and my red hair was unbounded, falling into soft waves around my shoulders. "Now if only the one I'm interested in will give me a glance."

"If you're talking about William then he's been staring at you since you've arrived," she pointed out. So it wasn’t only me who had noticed. And that made my heart flutter.

I didn’t want that to make my heart flutter. Because he really did hurt me when he pretended not to know me. But I didn’t let it show. I didn’t want Terry to be worried about me.

Winking at my best friend, I said, "I know. But he snubbed me at the last party we both attended so it's his turn to come to me."

"How vengeful,” Terry commented dryly.

Leaning in, I whispered, "But don't you think John oh-my-God Steele is the hottest guy in the room? And did you hear this is the first party he's attended for years?"

"What do you mean?" she frowned.

"Well, we all know how he turned wild and rebellious once he reached puberty right? My sources also told me he's been flatly refusing invitations since then and his parents couldn't force him to come."

Terry kept frowning. I was about to talk more about John to get her mind off questioning me about Will when I spotted him over my shoulder.

"Oh, crap," I mumbled. "Will is elbowing his way to me."

"You better run then if you want to play cat and mouse with him," she said with a small smile.

"Yeah, I better. See you later!"

I managed to lose Will in the crowd. But somehow, he found me hiding behind a pillar.

“Hannah,” he exhaled as he cornered me. “You have to let me explain.”

“Do I know you?” I asked in an innocent tone as I backed away from him.

He clenched his jaw. “I’m sorry about that. I’m really—”

I didn’t let him finish. “Is it because everyone thinks I’m a slut?”

“No,” he immediately said. “You’re not a... a...”

“Slut?” I offered.

He glared at me. I closed my mouth.

“You have every right to be angry,” he began in a low voice. “And you have every right not to forgive me. I won’t offer you an excuse. But let me apologize for hurting your feelings.”

My brows lifted. “So you can feel good about yourself?” I bit out. “No. Keep your apologies. I’m not even hurt by you brushing me off like that. Surprised, yes. Disappointed, that too. Because I didn’t expect you’d do that to me of all people.”

I tried to step past him. But he grabbed my wrist and I paused.

“At least let me have a dance with you,” he said almost desperately. “I’d be honored to have a dance with you, Hannah.”

Those words, I didn’t know why but those words thawed the pain and anger inside of me. I turned to him. He had the saddest expression on his face. And everything that I had once felt for him rushed over me like a tidal wave.

“Fine,” I blurted out before I could stop myself. “One dance.”

Damn it. I winched. I couldn’t believe I was so easy and weak for him.

But his blue eyes shining in pure joy and the big smile gracing his lips made this hasty decision worth it. An excited sort of happiness skittered through me as he led me to the dance floor, especially when I saw those North High girls who talked crap about me in the crowd.

And then we danced. In each other’s arms. Staring into each other’s eyes like we were the only people on the floor. I forgot about the North High girls. Forgot about Will’s sin. All that mattered at the moment was that we were together. I didn’t understand what was happening to me but I knew that I didn’t want this moment to stop. I didn’t want to let go of him.

I didn’t want to lose him.

When the music softly ended, we both beamed at each other in delight. I was breathless with exhilaration. He could say any excuse he had about snubbing me at my mother’s dinner party and I would accept everything in an instant.

Will opened his mouth to speak. But then my eyes caught a sight so incredible I got entirely distracted from him.

“Oh, my God,” I whispered. “Is that Terry and John?”

Confused, Will looked behind him.

“Oh, my God,” I kept on whispering. “Why are they dancing with each other? Is she crazy?”

Will returned his gaze to me. “Umm...”

“Give me a moment alright?” I told him, patting his arm. “I need to talk to Terry.”

He hesitated for a moment before he stepped back. Smiling brightly at him, I picked up my skirts and dashed through the crowd to talk to Terry.

But when I returned to find him, he was gone. And I didn’t see him since then.

- - - - - - - - - -

Skull started laughing again.

“It’s not Asshole Will’s fault then,” he said between laughs. “It’s because of you.”

“It’s-it’s not my fault,” I denied. It was. But I didn’t want it pointed out at me.

“You chose gossip over clearing things out between him,” he annoyingly pointed out, still laughing quite loudly. “Damn, you chose to be such a girl at such an important time.”

I couldn’t help it, I was so annoyed at him but mostly at myself that my hands just wrapped around his neck to strangle him.

And that was how Terry found us when she returned with coffee.

Me trying to kill Skull.

And Skull laughing his ass off.

- - - - - - - - - -

next

- - - - - - - - - -

This was one long chapter.  I had to cram everything down because this book will only have 5 chapters. I never really planned to make Hannah a book but while I was writing Rohan’s story, the plot just came to mind and I had to make it happen. 

I hope you liked this chapter. I hope you will like this story!

See you next Thursday! ( ´ ▽ ` )ﾉ

[dw-writes]

Ghost Protag 2

I enjoy writing this, it’s fun and a shameless self insert and I dont even care. It’s great. I hope you enjoy it, too.

Again, be forewarned. This story deals with some heavy stuff like depression, self harm, and suicide. I suggest if you’re not comfortable with these themes, that you don’t read. Thank you!

First Part Third Part

Even dead – yes, I am, in fact, going to keep talking about how I’m dead okay? It’s kind of a big deal for me – I still found myself following the streets until I was staring at the looming buildings of my university campus.

I can feel the judgement from here. Say whatever, but I at least decided to go after what I wanted and get that degree I wanted. Your age doesn’t matter you can do what you want! Take THAT DEPRESSION!

She said nothing. Good. Fuck off, you fickle bitch.

Anyway, I stopped next to a bus stop. It was outside the main building of campus, where they had the food court and printers and all that jazz. Not gonna lie, I still felt out of place when I went there, because everyone was years younger than I was. So out of place that I went and got a printer for my apartment. I was stuck eating noodles for two weeks because of it, but whatever. I had a printer. I didn’t have to pay ten cents a page for my essays anymore. Sue me. But as I stared up at the building, I felt sad. I wouldn’t be able to go in there again and get the really awful pizza that they made. Or sit in the too comfortable chairs in the basement and accidentally fall asleep.

I sat heavily on the bus bench and just…stared. I could hear birds and bugs and the faint music coming from one of the frat houses behind me. The occasional car roared past, speeding in the twenty zone. Who cared? No one. I didn’t even think there was a campus cop out right now.

I wanted to cry. Could I cry? I could run into doors, so I could probably cry. But no tears came. I started thinking of even more sad things, just to see if I could. I thought of how my cats would have to be rehomed, and how they probably didn’t even know that I wouldn’t be coming back. I thought of how I had done all that work towards that degree for nothing. I thought of the money that was just going to disappear, probably, from my bank account since I was – hahaha – dead.

Okay, I made myself WAY too sad. I felt my eyes welling up. Instead of wiping them away, like I had at the church, I let them fall. They rolled partially down my face before just…vanishing. I touched my chin, where they normally dripped off, and found it dry.

“This is such bullshit!” I screamed into the night. I stood and stomped my kitty slipper feet on the ground like I was two. “I can’t even cry properly?! What the actual fuck, universe!” I screamed. I screamed loud and hard and way too long for someone who should have been alive. When I couldn’t scream anymore, I stopped, and found myself disappointed when the sound didn’t echo.

I could feel a presence just behind my right shoulder, on the sidewalk, just standing there. Awkwardly. And staring. I wiped at my face anyway, even though my tears were apparently just floating away like tiny fucking helium balloons, and turned towards the presence.

It was a boy. A man? I dunno, but he was most definitely that awkward age were you think you’re one but you’re still probably the other but, legally, you’re the adult. Option B. The one that pays the taxes.

Oh, man, I didn’t have to pay taxes anymore. I didn’t get a tax return anymore. That sucks!

“Are you okay?” he asked. His voice was higher than mine, just a little, and he squeezed his arms when he asked the question. He hugged himself like he was cold and his black sweater was doing nothing to help him. It was a turtle neck with long sleeves. And boy, this kid needed sun. His was brown, but not very brown? Like, he had been taking his night classes a little too seriously? Get this poor child some Vitamin D!

I looked around as I registered his question. “Me?” I asked, when I saw I was the only one. His thin brown eyebrows lifted to tell me yes, he was in fact talking to me. A car turned the corner and rolled past him, its headlights illuminating him. His hair was swept up and away from his face, dark brown, and covered in a blue that was growing out almost too much. The sides of his head were cut close. He hadn’t gotten it done in a little while, alright. “You’re asking me if I’m okay?” I repeated.

He shook his head and shoulders like I was absolutely nuts. “Yeah. You were screaming,” he said. He shrugged his shoulders and unfolded his lanky arms to shrug again. “You’re the only other person—”

“Holy fucking shit, you can see me?” I interrupted, stumbling around the bench towards him.

He lifted his hands and backed up into the street. “Lady, I think you’re drunk.”

“Trust me, I am SO not drunk,” I said. I stopped, though, and rolled my eyes up in thought. “Am I?”

He started to walk away. “This is what I get for being a good person,” I heard him say to himself.

I scrambled after him, shouting wait at his back, until I managed to catch up and latch onto his arm. He, too, tripped over his own feet and yanked his arm away from me. “Why are you so cold?” he demanded.

“I’m cold?” I protested, “You’re cold! Did you just walk out of a freezer?”

“No, it’s just cold outside!” he shouted back. His head snapped to the side and he backed up to the sidewalk. It was then that I realized that I had followed him out into the road. Just in time for another car to roll down the street and barrel right into me.

Through me.

I didn’t, like, disappear. I was still there. I pressed my hands to my stomach and wailed as the car continued on. “What the fuck?” I squeaked. I looked at my palms and continued to press them into my abdomen. “What the fuck? I can’t go through a door but a car can go through me?!” I groaned and crouched in the road. “Oh my god, that was, like, the worst possible cramp I could have ever had.”

I could see the man child in the turtle neck anxiously pacing on the sidewalk. His messenger bag had dropped to the ground and his hands were buried in his hair. He stared at me. “You just got hit by a car,” he said.

“No, I think it went through me.”

“A car just went through you.”

“Yes?”

“Holy hell, a car just went through you.”

“We’ve established this. Let me cramp in peace.”

He practically slid across the ground, kneeling next to me in the road. “You’re dead,” he concluded.

I set my elbow on my knee and propped my chin in my hand. “No shit?” I asked, “And here I thought I was tripping balls.” The thrill of discovery flickered and almost disappeared from his eyes. He pulled me up from a crouch – with my protests – and pulled me back to the sidewalk.

“You’re a ghost,” he said slowly.

I would have smacked him if a wave of pain hadn’t rolled through my stomach. It, honestly, felt like the car had ripped through my back and squeezed out of my belly button. Worst cramps ever. “Yeah, I’m a ghost,” I said through gritted teeth. I held out my hand and sank to the ground, pressing as much as I could against my stomach. “God, that hurt,” I sighed.

The kid kneeled in front of me. “I’m Francisco,” he said. His letters rolled beautifully off his tongue. I could have swooned. “Pancho,” he added, “To…people.”

I looked up at him. The pain was starting to pass. Bless. “Pancho?” I repeated.

“It’s short for Francisco,” he persisted.

“…In what world?”

“Spanish!” he replied. The word was drawn out and upset. I could have laugh.

I could have done a lot of things. Instead, I swallowed down the nausea that was coming with the passing of the pain and held out my hand. “Piper,” I said, “Piper Mills.”

“Like paper mills,” he said as he shook my hand.

“Okay, okay, get it out, Pancho Man,” I shot back.

He sucked on his teeth. Carefully, he stood, and pulled me with him. “If you’re gonna make fun of me, at least be original,” he said. His head tilted. His hair fell just right. There was a pout, even. That feeling in the back of my mind pinged but I kept my mouth shut. People were in the cupboard for a reason. Shit, I was. Sitting quietly with my kitchen utensils were I belonged. Instead, I pulled my hand back and wrapped my arms over my stomach. “If you’re gonna make fun of the people that can see you, then you need to choose wisely,” he warned. He picked up his bag and shook his hair from his face. Again.

Ping ping, motherfucker.

I licked my lips. “People?” I asked.

It was like he just realized what he said. He pressed his lips together, eyes growing wide. Suddenly, his mouth split with an audible pop and there, right there, were fangs. A little stained like teeth of a wine drinker, but there, right there, were fangs that extended down from his upper gums and sat carefully over his bottom jaw. I watched as they shrank back into his gums until they looked like regular old – okay, who am I kidding, sharp as fuck canines.

What did my anthropology professor say? Oh, right.

I had a God damn, mother fucking paradigm shift right then and there. The universe itself tilted and the planets aligned and Zeus himself reached down to flick me in the back of the head. I knew what he was. I knew the word. Still, the only thing I could say was an intelligible, “Uhhhhhh.”

Pancho smacked his lips and sucked on his teeth again. He grabbed my arms and carefully turned me around. “That’s the normal reaction, it’s okay,” he murmured. He kept an arm around me as we walked. I half wondered what people who looked outside thought. Who knew. Vampires were said to be able to do a lot of things.

I did look up at him – boy was much taller than I was – and asked, “Are you just hugging air to people?”

“Yes, I am, so let’s walk faster,” he answered.

I knew campus was big, but I had never realized how big until Pancho took me to his university apartment on the. Other. Side. Of the world. I wish I were kidding. It was, like, fifteen blocks away from the bus stop bench. I didn’t even know the campus was that big, you know? But it was, and we walked up four flights of stairs and down, like, five hallways, until Pancho finally opened a door and unveiled his apartment.

There was a dog. There, right there, in the middle of the floor. It was small, and black, with a tail that was home to three perfectly round, although different sized, orbs of curled fur. That tiny, adorable, tea cup poodle jumped to its adorably small, teeny tiny paws, and barked as loud as it could.

Those damn evaporating tears poured down my face as I thought of my cats. Pancho panicked. He lowered me onto his leather futon near the door as I sobbed and asked me, repeatedly, what was wrong. I told him. I told him how my cats were at home by themselves, or probably with my parents, and I would never see them again. He had the fortitude to kiss my hair.

“Do you want me to get your cats?” he asked.

“Yes, I want my cats!” I wailed.

He carefully placed the tea cup poodle – named Thor – in my lap and set out every remote for the various devices around and connected to his television. He told me how to work his shower, how to work the stove if I was hungry, and left. The door clicked shut. It opened again as he asked for my address and I gave it to him through muffled and bubbly sobs as I buried my face into Thor’s fluffy tummy. He had rolled over in my lap. I was grateful. Pancho told me to give him an hour. The door shut and the lock clicked and I was alone with a happily panting Thor and my pathetic sobs. I righted Thor in my lap and he licked my face where my tears should have been. I smiled at scratched his ears.

“Well, that answers one question,” I cooed at Thor. He tilted his head at me. “Animals can see ghosts.” He leaned his face in towards mine and licked my nose clean. I squeezed my eyes shut as he continued to clean the rest of my face. When he was done, and his rancid dog breath was puffing in my face, I replied, “Thank you.”

He barked.

I nodded my head.

Thor jumped off my lap and click clacked his way across the hard wood floor to the kitchen, where he sat pretty next to a full food bowl. I followed him. He daintly pressed a paw into his food and brought it back to the floor. I stared at him. “You,” I stuttered, “You have food.”

He did it again.

“Yes, it’s right there.”

And again.

I crouched this time. “Food. Right there.”

Thor stood and shoved the plastic food bowl at me. I watched as it hit my foot. “I eat?” I asked, “I food?” Thor barked this time and sat back down. “I food,” I repeated. I stood and looked around the kitchen. “Me eat.”

Pancho’s kitchen was minimalistic and perfect – of course. The only flaw was a hook near a coffee pot that held a leash and collar, and a bowl underneath that held colorful doggy bags. The collar was teal. So was the leash. The leash itself was long and cloth and had black letters up and down it. I reached over and lifted a piece to read.

It said service dog.

I looked down at Thor. “Now you make sense,” I said. Thor lifted a paw. I dug around in the kitchen, finding little in the way of snacks and more in the way of garnishes for dishes. I opened a cabinet and found a single box of cereal. And in the fridge, milk. I made a bowl and sat on the island in the middle of the kitchen, kicking my feet and spooning the small sugary discs into my face. It was nice to eat. I didn’t feel hungry – I didn’t know if I could be hungry – but it was nice to eat. Comforting. Normal.

I looked around the apartment as I ate bowl after bowl until I had finished both the box of cereal and the milk carton. The living room had the futon, a matching chair, a glass coffee table, and a large flat screen with multiple game consoles and multimedia players underneath. There was a VCR. I couldn’t remember the last time I saw a VCR. Across from the island of the kitchen was a nice, square dining table, fit for four people. On the walls behind it were old pictures. Sepias and black and whites, with a single person in every one. I walked around the island, dragging my feet, and stared at them. It was the same man in every one.

It was Pancho.

The two walls were filled floor to ceiling in a gallery setting. It was a chronicle of his time. It was damn amazing. I wondered if he took the photos or had someone take them.

The door opened and I whipped around. Pancho was setting down two crates. He opened them carefully. From one shot a rotund feline in shades of brown. She yelled and yelled as she looked around, until her eyes settled on me. I fell to my knees as she waddled over and climbed into my lap. From the second slinked out a thinner, darker cat. He was much smaller and slight, and very very nervous. He, too, shot across the room to me once he spotted me. I sprawled on the floor and hugged them both too me.

Pancho make awkward sounds. “I don’t know how ghosts work,” he said. He shrugged. “But I can take all your stuff and bring it here. I’ve got another room.” I babbled at him. It was complete nonsense. Pancho patted his thighs. “I’m taking that as a yes.” He pointed across the living room to one of three doors. “I’m just gonna go make a bed for you,” he said.

There was a long time where I just stayed on the floor, smooching and hugging my cats even though they didn’t want the affection. My rotund child, Anna – Actually, Grand Duchess Anna Petrovna, but semantics – yelled as I buried my face in her stomach. She was purring. What a little liar. My other cat, Cracker Jacks, very gently meowed as he settled on my stomach. I heard Pancho walking past me as he made up the room. He stopped and his knees cracked.

“It’s getting close to morning,” he said softly.

“How did you get my kids so easily?” I asked instead.

He shrugged. “I have my ways,” he said. Vampire ways, probably. Fair enough. I wouldn’t push it. He ran a hand over Anna’s back. “I have to sleep soon, but you do whatever.”

I stared at him, at his stupid teal and brown hair and his stupid narrow face and hooked nose and giant ass eyes. What a stupid kid. What a nice kid. “Thanks,” I finally said.

Pancho shrugged. “We uh…” He cleared his throats and his eyes darted around. “We supes gotta stick together.”

Yeah. Supes. That’s the community name now. He patted my head and stood. “Hey, how old are you?” I asked. His mouth dropped open. “Is that a vampire faux pas I just committed?” I asked again.

“Uhhh,” was his response. He shrugged. “Nineteen.” I almost protested. What the fuck? What the actual fuck? Who in their right mind decided ‘oh hey, this kid is a tasty morsel, how about I convert him into a vampire?’ That’s, like, what parents do when they send their ten year olds to bible camp. “I’m going to bed now.” I tilted my head as I followed his form with my eyes. He opened the middle door in the wall. The room beyond was completely dark. Like. Horror movie dark. Roll for dark vision dark. I didn’t even know if he had windows. Maybe he didn’t.

What all was true for vampires?

I opened my mouth to ask but Pancho shut the door behind him. I saw he had one of those door fit things underneath it, the kind you use in winter to keep your warm air inside the house. There was another on the top of the door. Neat.

The fat Anna Banana crawled under my chin and sprawled across my chest and throat, pinning my head into that really awkward position. The sun rose. Kept rising. Made a bright square right on my face. I suffered. But I refused to move because my cats were asleep. Was I a great mom, or what?

Finally, Anna moved and padded somewhere and I heard the sound of claws in litter and wondered when the HELL Pancho had brought that, too. Weird. Vampires were weird. Cracker Jacks followed her and I attempted to roll backwards, heels over head, and failed with a choking sound. I climbed to my knees instead. I guess being a ghost didn’t come with cool supernatural powers like flexibility. I looked down at my green pants and frowned.

“Do ghosts wear normal people clothes or is there a ghost mall?” I shouted towards Pancho’s room.

“Fuck off,” came the muffled reply. I shrugged. Fair. I went to one of the other two doors and opened it to find a bathroom. It was nice – as nice as an apartment bathroom could be – and I took the chance to shower. Shampoo and conditioner and soap at least cleaned me off. One new thing I have learned about being a ghost. Once I was wrapped in a towel, I dug around Pancho’s drawers until I found a case of new toothbrushes. I stole a green one. He wouldn’t mind. I hoped, anyway. I scrubbed my teeth as vigorously as I had scrubbed my body and my hair and left.

The last door was a second bedroom. Bare of anything personal, it had a bed and a closet and a dresser and windows. You know, like a room would. I opened the closet and found some of Pancho’s clothes. I wondered if he had the closet in his own bedroom full. Probably. Boy looked like he shopped at places with half naked male models pretty often. I grabbed a pair of jeans that were almost too small and a shirt that was, also, almost too small. Would people see floating clothes? How did this ghost thing work? Could I scare people?

I pondered this for so long that when I stopped pondering, my hair was dry and in awkward curls and angles. I decided to test it. Shoving my hair back, I jogged across the apartment and grabbed a piece of fruit off the counter. A lime. Perfect.

Why did Pancho have limes?

Anyway, I opened a window wide enough to stick my arm out of it. Peeking through the window, I waited until someone passed by on the sidewalk. Then, I pushed the window completely open, leaning out, and dropped the lime on the kid’s head. He yelped and looked up. But he didn’t say anything. I even waved. Stuck my hand in my shirt and waved. Still, nothing.

Neat. I mean, it still sucked that I was a ghost. But now I was a lime throwing ghost that people couldn’t see in normal non-ghost clothes. Neat. I closed the window to make sure my cats wouldn’t jump out and, also, become ghosts, and sat on the floor. I didn’t really know what else to do. I looked over to where the crates sat and saw a few backpacks were sitting with them. Pancho had the good graces to grab some of my things, too. How nice.

Us supes really DO stick together, holy hell.

When I made it to the bags, I started to open them. One was filled with clothes. Well, I was already dressed, so he’d have to deal. Another was filled with my bathroom stuff. I pulled out a full bottle of my anti-depressants and shook it. It felt necessary to take one, so I did. Honestly, I was a little afraid of not taking it, even though I was dead. I remembered, one time, when I stopped taking my shit, and spent two days sobbing and wanting to die. I didn’t feel like doing that again. I dunked the bottle back into the bag after I was done and continued to look through the bags.

The door to Pancho’s room swung open. I looked back. The apartment was dark.

“How the fuck does ghost time work?” I asked. He shrugged as he made his way to the bathroom. “It was, like, noon not even twenty minutes ago.”

“Maybe it’s like when you sleep,” he said through a yawn. He stopped in the bathroom door and lifted the green toothbrush I had used. I shrugged this time. “Don’t make me regret this,” he threatened.

“Like you would kick me out.”

“I just met you yesterday,” he pointed out.

Valid. I kept my mouth shut. He showered and primped and pampered while I dug out socks and a pair of shoes. Ghost time passed. He nudged me, fully dressed and hair styled, and I looked up. “We’re gonna see a friend of mind. She might know a little more about what happened to you than I do.”

“Why do you say that?” I asked as I stood.

He led me outside and down the stairs. “She’s a journalist. She’s got her nose so deep in the supernatural scene that she knows anything that happens before it even happens.” Pancho’s eyes landed on me. “She should have an idea.”

I held up my hand and kicked the lime I had thrown when we reached it outside. “I fully trust the community reporter with my life.” Pancho said nothing. I wondered if he regretted helping me. Probably, I mean, now he has this roommate that doesn’t contribute anything, and that he didn’t even ask for.

Common Sense stepped in and said, “Shut up, you frivolous bitch, we just died.”

Depression backed into her corner. Yeah. Take that. Why can’t I listen to Common Sense more often?

I followed Pancho to a squat building off campus, one not too far from where he lived. He didn’t even knock. Instead, he just pushed the door open and a little bell dinged his arrival. “Miss Villa?” he sang into the office room. Office was generous. It was a little suite in a building, housing four desks and a door that was probably a back room. The back door was propped open with a bright red heel. That heel pushed the door open and a girl peeked out.

Retro. Retro. Fucking Retro. She owned the retro name. A cute sweetheart dress in black and white with buttons on the front, tight curls framing her head, and the brightest red lipstick I have ever seen. It matched her shoes. She grinned. “Mr. Zapata,” she greeted cheekily.

Please be my friend.

Pancho moved me towards a desk. “This is Piper Mills.”

“Like Paper Mills?” the girl asked.

“Haaaah,” I responded.

She crossed the room and held out her hand. “Paloma Villa,” she introduced herself. When I shook her hand, her expression changed. “Oh,” she said, “Piper.”

I made an unhappy sound. “Yup, Piper,” I said, I shoved my hands in the deep front pockets of the jeans I wore. “The girl that apparently killed herself.”

“Apparently?” Paloma asked. She kicked her heels off and sat in a chair. “The paper said it was a suicide. Open and shut.”

“Pap—I was in the paper?” I asked. I rounded the desk.

She turned the screen off. “You probably shouldn’t read it,” she murmured, “Maybe just…take a seat.”

“I’m not sensitive, I’m dead,” I stated. I crossed my arms. “Pancho said you’d know about things about…ghosts. Can you tell me?”

Paloma sighed. “Let’s go somewhere else,” she said. She turned the computer off and stood. I followed.

[floggingink]

Riverdale, “Episode Twenty-One: House of the Devil”

Jughead writes at the Whyte Wyrm now, which presumably people, there, still think is weird

Fifth period is AP English: Jughead compares the Black Hood to Edgar Allan Poe’s Red Death, which I think was an allegory for like, the Plague

“CARNAL DEFIANCE”

Sixth period is Intro to Film: Why does Cheryl call Archie & Veronica making out “xenomorphs,” which are the aliens in Aliens? I need help

Jughead drops the name “Varchie,” truly proving he is not above the rest of us

I like to think that Jughead chronicling the carnal defiance is him thinking to himself how objective and journalistic he is being

the carnal defiance montage is good, though

Veronica was rich: “The tasting menu at Pourquoi is thirteen courses, Archie.”

literally on a white fur rug in front of a fire?

I like the soft class differences in Archie immediately suggesting they maybe watch Netflix and Veronica immediately suggesting they maybe watch HBO

Veronica as usual is an emotionally-multitasking saint-genius in giving Archie a genuine had-a-good-time kiss as he frantically leaves

Jug calls McGinty “Freddy Krueger,” which I will allow

Jughead doubts it: Jughead is “dubious” that the Reaper is the BH, as he’d have to be in his 60’s. plus, he was MAYBE lynched! or they lynched someone who was MAYBE him!

God, Betty and Jughead Black & Golding it up at Pop’s hit me with some choice nostalgia. remember when they tried to break Polly out of Catholic school? innocent times!

“YOU DON’T HAVE TO, OKAY.”

Betty’s sweater with that red pencil skirt???

Veronica’s sleeveless floral blouse with that bow???

Veronica VERY NICELY looks excited that FP is getting out of jail. I don’t know if she cares, but she will act like she cares. Veronica is just that good

Archie > Dawson: Archie being like, I assume you need help with something because your life sucks and I’ve come to expect it, and Jughead and Betty being like, Yes, continue to investigate this decades-old murder while we plan a working-class graduation party, truly, sums everything up about them

I do applaud the self-awareness of Veronica being like, We’re Bughead right now?

these two angels are up for it. Archie doesn’t give him any nonsense about Moose’s physical therapy (I hope Moose is okay). he’ll Scooby Gang with Veronica for his bro

Cheryl’s pins: Cheryl has her own special red towel, because…..because…..

Gay?!: I do want an unprompted back massage with lavender essential oil from Cheryl, but Josie is one tea with Penelope away from needing to Get Out

What damn high school in America: weirdly, I feel like Ms. Svenson is largely guileless here, but like...don’t just open the door…

Cheryl draws back, the moment over, Josie is like...I gotta go...

Hiram’s exceedingly wholesome red sweater

Veronica gets my favorite line of the night: “Well, I don’t know about those other people, but we’re ACTUALLY SINNERS.”

“Damn good coffee”: I don’t know what “the martial arts” are, but Andre is trained in them

Smithers is dead, right? Smithers is dead

The female gaze: “Archie, as pictured here exiting the shower, would literally die for you, so keep him around.”

can we give Archie a more interesting phone background?

Alice is dusting with an actual feather duster? those DO not work

TBH what is Jughead’s plan with the Mayor? she has demonstrated many times over that she does not GAF about the southside, and Jughead is not exactly a charismatic master salesman. what he needs to do is get Veronica to talk to HIRAM about the southside, but that ship has sailed. I want to say I’m with Serpent Daddy on this one, and you know what if that makes me a little bitch, THEN I GUESS I AM ONE

I do like the Generation Z insurrection from inside of the Serpents, though. phase out the olds! maybe Tall Boy SHOULD shut up and let them fucking try and actually save their part of town. it won’t work, but it will be honorable. plus then they’d be younger and cooler, like the Ghoulies. okay, Jughead, you brought me around. except at this point in time I still think I would rather be a Ghoulie

Jughead drunk on his own righteousness and calling for “a vote” to oust Tall Boy is like the most assertive he has ever been

Veronica, hell-bent that they not talk about It, brings up the murder house, the BH letter, and how she wants to get laid

Veronica has her reading glasses at the breakfast table!!! VERONICA I LOVE YOU. I’LL SAY IT TOO

okay I do think Fred is right that with “those three words,” people are usually “on different schedules”

Please protect Betty: Alice lets Betty “borrow” the station wagon on the condition that she, Alice, drives it

INCREDIBLY SEXUALLY FRUSTRATED? CARNAL DEFIANCE?

“Mom! What?” “Wow.”

brace yourself because the Riverdale prison is called “Shankshaw”

FP leaving the Serpents is fucking news to Jughead

“Working, Warden Cooper.”

oh, AA? AA, FP? I’m looking at my watch

FP lifting his pinkie to drink his coffee like Alice shows just how fierce prison turned him

Sheriff Keller’s continued patience with the Scoobies is the act of a desperate man

“The Devil’s house? What if he’s home?”

Sexy, aesthetic Southside:  Jughead’s motorcycle jacket is good and his helmet hair is great

of course FP has that obnoxious man-child motorcycle with the jacked-up handlebars

FP and Jughead have apparently parked alongside a Civil War battlefield

FP says when he was 16, Jughead’s age, his father kicked him out of the house, so he joined the Serpents. this is like exactly the opposite of what FP & Jughead are doing, but in the saddest possible way

Jughead must ACTUALLY like being in the Serpents. a group where he isn’t the odd one out all the time. the non-joiner joined and now doesn’t want to leave

FP’s condition is that Jughead keeps writing. FP DOES LOVE HIS SON, THE SCREW-UP

“I will. I do, every day.” YOU’RE BETTER THAN ME, JUG

I can’t endorse FP’s knockoff Ray-Bans, though

Cheryl’s sheaths: THAT SHIRT?

The 2001 Josie and the Pussycats movie was a masterpiece: Cheryl is DISGUSTED that Reggie is going to escort Josie to his father’s car dealership opening. $5,000, though?? to some people, Cheryl, that is A LOT OF MONEY

The Blossom spawn: “Clean that up, plebe. The way you did my brother’s blood.”

Cheryl’s a chaos angel from hell: I think Cheryl is allowed at least one lashing-out at FP (FOR DISPOSING OF HER BROTHER’S BODY) and FP knows it

a “king”? a “leader of men”? was he, Jughead?

Betty’s solution is, as always, to throw a party

These students are legally children: Toni is bartending? Toni, a legal child, is bartending? I think if Alice really wanted to hit them where it hurts she could simply report them to the ABC for flagrant underage drinking violations (Toni is not drinking)

I say “X-adjacent” all the time, so I liked Betty calling herself “Serpent-adjacent” 

ALTHOUGH SHE IS JUST AS MUCH A HEREDITARY SERPENT AS JUGHEAD

Byrdie, I think, smokes a couple of packs a day

Jughead wants the Serpents to stick up for themselves through actually viable legal channels. Toni wants to eliminate their sexist, misogynistic initial rituals. Sweet Pea probably wants to include an outreach program and feed little kids before school in case they can’t afford breakfast! PURGE THE OLDS FROM THE SERPENTS, THE KIDS ARE DOING GREAT

Jughead has come a long way from balking at Betty throwing him a birthday party for like six people to convincing FP that a retirement party at the alcoholic bar owned by his old biker gang will be fun, only last “like three hours”

“Don’t bogart the egg rolls.”

Penny thinks Jughead’s “soft underbelly” is his “quite fetching” girlfriend, even more than his well-meaning dolt father

Veronica’s cape!!!!!

FLASHBACK CAM!!!!

of course the SHATTERED PORTRAIT of mother and child is still there, like in Tarzan

this Reaper was a stone-cold motherfucker

OH, THE ORIGINAL BLOODSTAINED WOOD IS STILL THERE?

Archie finds the clue box! Veronica finds the third child’s initials! Archie and Veronica are GREAT Betty and Jugheads!

why is Penny AROUND if EVERYONE is scared of her? because she can actually do a good job when she’s “incentivized”?

Fwoopy hair is the best hair: Toni’s lovely, looping pink side-braids

Alice storms over to Pop’s, preemptively furious that Betty is going to pole dance to become Serpent-adjacent

FP is like, PLEASE SHUT UP

this scene is GREAT. “THEY WEREN’T ALL MISTAKES.” FP’s bowtie! he looks great in white? “Are you high on fumes?”

Alice tries to throw Hal in FP’s face and FP is like, drop that like it’s hot

Best costume bit: Veronica’s perkily no-nonsense Lois Lane outfit during the debrief

I’ve seen Brick like thirty times: Jughead is quick to point out the possible Dexter ramifications on a body having to watch their family get murdered

Jughead sort of coos in Betty’s ear to remind her they have to leave

Betty’s belated invitation amuses Veronica and nonplusses Archie, and Jughead rather gallantly gives them an easy out in case they like DON’T WANT TO GO, “IT’S NOT A BIG DEAL”

Archie’s waist looks particularly small in that shirt

Joseph Conway honestly out here thinking he can outrun Archie! when the only person who can do that is Jughead Jones!

AN EVIL PREACHER!

A REAL MOB!

Summer + Blair = Veronica: Veronica’s interrogation was great because Veronica is a natural Bad Cop

Betty has a picture of herself and Jughead at the Retro Reunion Dance from Hell on her mirror

I think Hermione and Hiram say “I love you” all the time, in many different ways. he calls her a dove. she brings him his coffee. he gets her boyfriend’s underage construction workers beaten up. she claims she wrote a threatening letter about herself

Archie’s brown Henley

Jughead did “a sweep” of “the perimeter”

Archie telling himself it’s going to be a good night, Jughead pats him on the back: “Here’s hoping”

Mädchen Amick, MÄDCHEN AMICK: once again Alice demonstrates that dressing “like the southside” does not preclude dressing fabulously, rather that other Serpents are simply not putting in the time

Alice does not want the worm that comes with her shot of mezcal

Jughead, PRECIOUSLY, clarifies that when he said “You look incredible,” he meant Betty, he was not hitting on Alice

Archie is VERY GOOD telling Veronica that he said what he said because HE was feeling good! GOOD, ARCHIE

HOLD THE PHONE, HAS ARCHIE SEEN DONNIE DARKO?

Archie immediately pivots to passive aggression when his kindness is not reciprocated with declarations of love! BAD, ARCHIE

“Mad World” is a great song. I would hedge on whether or not it’s a great karaoke song. I would strongly hedge on whether it’s a rousing crowd-pleaser at a drunken gangbanger send-off

did Archie like Donnie Darko? did he understand it? if so, could he explain it to me?

Veronica’s silky alto makes another appearance

“DEAD END FP”????

I’m writing a scene where it’s gay.: oh, Sweet Pea’s there! Sweet Pea is standing alone by the wall. Sweet Pea COULD be standing with Jughead, if he wanted. Jughead is also standing alone

apparently Betty has a whole secret drawer of black lingerie

never in ten thousand billion years would Jughead enjoy any sort of exhibitionism on Betty’s behalf in front of other people. BECAUSE HE’S FUCKING SHY, unless he’s calling Tall Boy a bitch

Gay.: Toni is amused. carnal defiance?

50 Shades of Betty: is Betty a Serpent now? BETTY?

I did rather enjoy the possibly inadvertent parallel to that episode of Fresh Prince when Will and Carlton end up stripping together at that rich-lady benefit and Aunt Viv walks in on it and she’s like, “PUT IT ON.”

FP, I want to say, saves the day by taking charge of the fallout: “Ha ha, great! EVERYTHING’S FINE! Put this on.”

Certified pedigree: OF COURSE. OF COURSE. OF COURSE. OF COURSE. OF COURSE FP IS GOING BACK TO THE SERPENTS. of course he does it with the most melodramatic speech possible. of course he does it by dismissing his own son, dismissing his family, dismissing parole, dismissing sobriety. of course he’s actually doing it to protect Jughead but of course doing do by actually destroying Jughead’s life in a different way

“Coyote Ugly” is pretty good

“I AM NOT GOING GENTLY INTO THE NIGHT!” FP, do you read Dylan Thomas?!

FP’S KISS OF DEATH. FP’S FREDO KISS. “YOU BROKE MY HEART, JUGHEAD.”

the shot he takes right to Jughead’s face is just mean

Jughead looks fucking stunned. can you be numb AND horrified? horrifumbed?

Veronica doesn’t have any deep-seated issues, for God’s sake! she isn’t in love with Archie right now! everyone take a breath!

Andre sat in the car during the whole party? I see a missed opportunity here

the hat’s off! HAT’S OFF

Jughead considers Archie gone, that he “cut bait,” a phrase I admit I have never heard before. Jughead is operating with the assumption that Archie has written him off and that Betty needs to do so as well, so it’s like the Archie-Jughead breakup, but sort of sideways

“I’M DRAGGING MY DAD DOWN.”

“You might get...you will probably get hurt.”

I did like the CLASSICALLY DRAMATIC wrenching Jughead back around by the arm and holding his face. IF YOU KIDS WOULD JUST SHUT UP AND HOLD EACH OTHER’S FACES. remember when sorcerer dementia-phantom Nana Rose scared you snooping in Jason Blossom’s bedroom??? innocent times!!!!!

I’m looking at this photograph of the Hangin’ Mob and I can’t tell who’s who, and it fills me with glee!

Every triangle has three corners, every triangle has three sides: I’m not sure what Betty and Archie are supposed to be seeing in each other for the very first time, unless it’s that they scare their partners or something. can Betty and Archie Blue & Gold? maybe! Archie wasn’t great at holding the line against Betty when she was falling down the Black Hood rabbit hole, but he did recognize it when it was happening, PLUS he’s a huge handsome slab of boy meat! TIME TO STEP UP, ARCHIE

hey, is Jughead homeless again?

TOMORROW: WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?

[sending-the-message]

White Noise by Sergeant_Darwin

I’ve never been much of a man. I barely crack 5’6”, can’t handle my liquor, and I’ve never been in a fight in my life—but when Lainie got pregnant, I decided it was time for a change. I started working out. I learned how to change the oil and tires on the Buick. Hell, I even bought a pistol. I was going to protect them, Lainie and my unborn child both, whatever it took.

I could tell Lainie thought it was all a little silly, my newfound quest for manhood. It was easy for her to say. She was doing her part. Carrying the burden of life inside her, while all I could do was hold her hair, in the early stages of pregnancy, as she puked into the toilet—and sometimes I even fucked that up. She seemed to think she could do it all herself, and she was probably right. When I brought home the gun, she was livid. All we needed, she said, was a baseball bat. And someone strong enough to swing it, she might have added.

I took it back the next day and bought a Louisville Slugger instead.

The baby came without a hitch—little Annika, looking just like her mommy—and what we lacked in protection, Lainie made up for with near-neurotic preparation. She had it all; the books, the vitamins, the breastfeeding techniques. But perhaps her favorite new mom-toy came in the form of a Kiddos Baby Monitor that she got at the baby shower. I can’t remember who gave it to her.

It gave off a small hum, scarcely a whisper, every single night. Vague static; white noise—interrupted, only on occasion, by a cough or hiccup or whimper from sweet Annika. She wasn’t a fussy baby at all. The monitor rested on Lainie’s nightstand, securing my wife like a second quilt. A small red dot, indicating the device was alive and well, dimly bathed the room in crimson, and an optional display provided a blue-tinted camera feed aimed at Annika’s crib. We could hear her, we could see her, and all was well in paradise.

Oh, there were tough times, sure. The jaundice was bad and it led to things even worse. Pneumonia. Strep. Infections no fun for an adult but an enormous goddamn deal for a baby. We spent plenty of time in the hospital. The nurses all loved Annika. They always remarked on what a well-behaved baby she was.

The marriage grew stale, but what marriage doesn’t? The sex was rare and forced, just another thing for Lainie to check off her to-do list. Was it ever really not that way, though? I tried to remember, but life before Annika seemed trapped in a cloudless haze. Becoming a father seemed to alter the very structure of my brain.

The first year came and went. The Kiddos Baby Monitor ran out of batteries, and we never bothered to replace them. Annika was crawling. Then walking. The first word, spoken at the dinner table, which Lainie and I were both there for: Mango.

The words kept coming. Mommy. Diaper. Full. They were all expected, yet all met with excited applause from her mother and me. And then, one day, while Lainie was at spinning class and I was doing the newspaper crossword on the couch, Annika piped up from her playpen with a word I did not expect.

Fa-ther.

I sat up, straining silently to listen, sure I had misheard. But then it came again, even clearer than before.

Fa-ther.

Most dads would be thrilled. I was confused, and frankly, a bit unnerved. I had no idea where she’d learned that. I was always ‘daddy.’ In fact, as far as I’d seen, nobody had ever so much as breathed that word in front of her. Yet there she sat, squawking away, giving voice to a word uncomfortably formal as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Father. Father. Father.

Lainie didn’t seem as interested as I did. In fact, she seemed more than a little bit miffed—Annika had been growing more distant from her lately. This was the age children usually clung tightest to their mothers, yet Annika seemed to have no such proclivity. One doctor theorized that Annika might be having her needs met through another source—did she have a stuffed animal she was particularly attached to? A blanket, maybe? We could think of nothing.

We had her tested for autism. Hell, we had her tested for everything. Nothing could explain her level of detachment from us, nor her remarkably tame behavior. The professionals had never seen anything like it, but didn’t seem to think it much cause for concern.

“Count your blessings, friend,” one of them told me in a heavy English accent as he escorted me from his office. “Between you and me, nine out of ten kids her age is a right little shit.”

Still, we couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. One night, Lainie had decided she’d had enough. She dug the old Kiddos Baby Monitor out of a box in the attic. She put new batteries in it, rewired the camera in Annika’s room, and for a few hours, the white noise hummed beneath our sleep once more.

I awoke to the sound of Annika babbling away in her crib. I turned toward the monitor, and my eyes swam, barely open, in the sea of crimson from its light. She was repeating the same word, again and again.

Fa-ther. Fa-ther.

I rolled over toward Lainie. She was still asleep—Annika wasn’t being very loud. I stumbled out of bed, wiping my eyes, and picked up the monitor. My fingers fumbled for the switch on the back, and when I flicked it, a dull blue glow sprang from nowhere. I squinted my eyes to see into Annika’s crib, and I let out a strangled cry. The monitor slipped from my hands and crashed to the floor. Lainie woke with a start, mumbling.

“Whatsamatter?”

But I couldn’t speak.

Someone was holding my daughter.

Without a word, I ran into the hallway, not even bothering to grab the Louisville Slugger from the closet. The door to Annika’s room was open. My socks slid out from under me and I crashed to the wooden hallway floor as I reached it, and as I lie prone I had a clear view into the bedroom.

Annika sat up in her crib, crying wildly for a change, startled by the noise. Nobody was holding her.

“I swear to God, honey—”

But Lainie wasn’t having it.

“The first night we start using the monitor again, and it just happens to be the night an invisible man breaks into our house? And leaves her placed all neat in her crib where he found her?”

“He wasn’t invisible, and I can’t explain it, Lainie, I’m telling you what I saw.”

“Alright,” she said, as though humoring a child. “What did he look like?”

At this, I drew blank. I couldn’t exactly describe him—I hadn’t looked long enough. I felt that I had seen him before, though. Somewhere. I felt that seeing him at all, even in a completely non-threatening context, would have made me deeply uncomfortable. But I didn’t know how to explain this to Lainie, this vague recognition. So I just shrugged. She scoffed.

“Jesus. What am I supposed to do with this.”

But the whole thing had her spooked, I know it. That night she told me—if you hear anything from the monitor, anything at all, you wake me up right away. So I did.

Father. Father. Lainie’s voice rang out above the dead white noise.

Lainie snatched the cooing monitor from her bedside table less than a second after I’d woken her. She sat up and flicked the switch.

Lainie shrieked a horrible sobbing shriek. She flung the covers from her and leapt from the bed in one fluid motion, leaving the monitor face-up on the sheet behind her. On it I could see the man, cradling Annika with a light bounce, more clearly this time. And in a flash I knew exactly who he was. And this time, I stayed right where I lay.

It took Lainie a long time to calm Annika down—that scream had put a good scare into her. I don’t think Lainie even noticed that I never came in. By the time she got back to our bedroom, the lights were on and I sat on the bed, spread out with a couple of her old college photo albums.

She walked into the room and stopped in her tracks. She looked at me, at the albums, and back to me. I think in that moment we both knew it was over.

“He wasn’t in there,” she said after a long pause. “I know what you’re thinking, but it wasn’t him. Nobody was in there.”

“Fine,” I said. “But he was on the monitor. You know he was on the monitor. Why, Lainie?”

She looked down at the albums, at the old pictures from which Will Harding’s dumb fucking face grinned up at both of us, feigning innocence.

“Father...”

She looked at me, and the guilt shone in her eyes.

“Will’s the father. Not me. Will Harding.”

She started to cry. I stood up and walked out of the room, pausing a few inches from her face to say, softly, almost sweetly:

“You’re a real bitch, you know that?”

Then I left the house and never walked back inside. Lainie brought all my stuff to my new apartment a couple days later. The divorce went through quickly; she didn’t want it but she understood. She, of course, got custody of Annika, having the tremendous advantage of not only womanhood but of actually being Annika’s biological parent. I didn’t fight it. It’s amazing how quickly I stopped loving both of them.

Will Harding was a big, brash man. He had tattoos, muscles, and watched football and drank beer and got mean when he did. That’s why Lainie left him, after two passionate, terrible years. She once told me she married me because I was everything Will was not. But it wasn’t long before she realized that by the same token, Will was everything I was not. I guess old habits die hard. And three months after Annika was born, so did Will. He found out that Lainie had had a baby and came to the house. She shut him out, screaming at him that he wasn’t the father, he wasn’t, he wasn’t. But he knew—she was lying. So he got real drunk and real mad and didn’t put on his seatbelt and on his way back to our place he sped his fucking Camaro up a curb and into a big brick mailbox.

Lainie went to his fucking funeral. She told me she was getting her teeth cleaned.

She sent me a Christmas card last year—she and Annika, smiling underneath a hearth in cheesy red sweaters, stockings hung on either side of them. I looked at the little girl I used to call mine, now seven years old, and felt nothing. I wondered absently if I should feel guilty, and if I’d somehow failed as a dad. But those thoughts, often though they came, never lasted long. She didn’t need another father—she already had one, after all, and she seemed to like him just fine.

[ellana-ravenwood]

Fate is a bitch - Bruce Wayne x Reader

Warning : I was drunk when I wrote this, just coming back from a friend place...I drunk two beers, and that’s enough for me to get drunk, how weak am I right ? It’s because I never drink...Anyway, that’s why this fic is shittier than usually blahblahblah it’s all fun and game until blahblahblah I thought about not writing this and posting it, but then I promised two stories for tonight so still did it and I’m an idiot yes thank you very much. Look how great Bruce looks down there. Damn hottie. DAAAAAAMN HOTTIE. 

Decided to group two requests, because the two together inspired me. So here for a shy reader, newly a Justice League member, intimidated by the Bat. As usual, feedbacks are very welcome, hope you’ll like it :

PART TWO  

My master list blog : @ella-ravenwood-archives

________________________________________________ 

Destiny. 

You strongly believed in Destiny. 

No matter what people could say, how many arguments against it they had, and how much they were sceptic about it...it wouldn’t change your mind. You strongly believed in Destiny.

Because it was impossible only coincidences brought you were you were now...in the Justice League’s headquarters ! 

It wasn’t a coincidence that your path crossed Billy Batson’s, aka Shazam, one of the most powerful superhero in the World (though he was barely ten years old), and that you ended up adopting him.

It wasn’t a coincidence that you so happen to be a meta-human too, being able to manipulate the four elements. 

It wasn’t a coincidence that your son got noticed by the Justice League, nor was it a coincidence either that soon, the leaguers discovered he was only a ten year old boy in the body of a grown ass man (when he used his powers) and therefor, discovered that he had a mom...you. Who almost grilled Superman because you thought he wanted to hurt your boy. 

You believe strongly in Destiny, because hell, if all those chain of events were just coincidental, then wow...It just didn’t make sense. It was just too good to be true you know ? From your first meeting with four years old Billy to now, sitting in the League’s headquarter, in fucking Space ! 

The first one you met was Batman, and damn that guy was intimidating...But when he spoke to you, and when he congratulated you to have raised such a good boy as Billy, something weird happened in your heart. 

At first, you pegged it for a stupid teenage like crush. Like the slight infatuation you’d have on the most popular boy in school, or on a teacher, knowing damn well you’d never have a chance with them. But then...Then it was more than that. The more you saw and talked to him, the more you had...feelings stirring in your belly and such. 

Destiny. You strongly believed in it. 

So, when you started to fall for the Bat, you decided it was also Destiny...Only, sometimes fate could be a bitch, and would destin you to be a sad miserable human being. Because there was absolutely NO chance that you’d ever get with a guy like Batman, he was way out of your league. 

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

The first thing that made you like him, was the way he defended your son against the other Leaguers. They wanted him out of the league because he was but a ten year old child but...He already proved he was capable of handling himself, and even more importantly, of saving a lot of lives ! So what was the big deal ? 

Batman was the only one defending your son, and he was also the only one that needed to, as he convinced everyone. When you thanked him, he just told you it was normal, there wasn’t anything to thank him for. 

The second thing that made you slowly fall in love with him, was the way he seemed genuinely worried about everyone’s well being. Some of the Leaguers thought he was an emotionless man, but they couldn’t be more wrong. Whenever someone was hurt, he took it as a personal mistake. He threw himself in front of people to save them more times than you could count. He always made sure everyone was alright, even if it meant him not being ok...He was the most compassionate man you ever met. And he was really only a man. No powers. How impressive was that ? 

The third thing that drove you crazy, and you felt a bit vain for that but, oh well, whatever...was his body. His body was ridiculous. The dude worked out a lot. And his voice, oh god his voice (when he didn’t have the modulator on), it was amazing. Deep and soft at the same time. 

The fourth thing that made you want to crash your lips on his was...as oddly as it sounded, his conversation. He was the first one to talk to you when you arrived in the League, and he made sure you felt comfortable. He made sure the look other leaguers gave you (after all, you were letting your ten year old child roamed Earth and Space freely...but Hell, that kid was one of the most powerful being in the universe, if he could save life, shouldn’t he do it ?!) didn’t make you feel bad...Besides, he too let his children, quite young, out int he street to fight crime. He understood. The conversation always flooded so well between the two of you, it was almost crazy. You knew it was in your head, but you felt like a special connection was being webbed between the two of you...After all, it seemed you were the only one he really talked to like that. But no. That was probably in your head.

The fifth...Oh forget it. There was so many reasons you slowly started to fall for the Batman, that listing them all would take ages. He was everything you liked in a guy. Even his broody and aloof side was appealing to you. Because just like him, you were highly introverted, and sometimes, you just needed to be alone...so far, everyone you ever dated did not understand that, and whenever you asked for some “alone time”, they took it the wrong way and ended up resenting you, and therefor, breaking up with you...

Besides, it wasn’t easy to find someone as a single mother...But; didn’t Batman had like, ten children or something ? Maybe he’d understand...You shook your head. You needed to STOP thinking about him. You had absolutely no chance. It was quite clear that he did not want a relationship. 

Still, sometimes, you found yourself just staring at him when you knew he wasn’t looking, and thinking about how it could be, to date him...Billy was getting along pretty well with Damian...

But there was no way in hell that you'd ever be brave enough to make a move, the man was too damn intimidating. Even sometimes when you two spoke, even if the subject was light or silly, he would still keep his composure and his stoic tone and...Well. Yes. Intimidating was a great word to describe his overall behavior. 

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

-Say, mom. You have a thing for older guys, right ?

-I totally have a thing for older guys. And it’s not an appropriate subject to talk with my ten year old son. 

-No but, hear me out ok ? Besides, I’m in my adult form right now, which makes it ok right ? 

You had to give it to your boy, his logic was flawless. Well, almost flawless, because even if he looked like he was in his thirties, you knew he was way younger...But you’d hear him out, because it was always interesting to hear him talk about what he was thinking and all. He always had rather...interesting and special inputs on life. So you turned to him, and, going on your tip-toes to ruffle his hair (seriously, you hated his adult form), you nodded for him to continue. 

-Well, Damian...you know Damian, Robin. Batman’s son. Yeah you know right ? Ok cool. Well Damian and I were talking about how you and his dad were getting along so well ok ?

You blushed. What ? If ten year old boys picked up on it then...You shook your head. No. Batman wouldn’t waste his time on this kind of thoughts. 

-Where are you going with this Billy ? 

-Well, Batman is quite older than you. From what Damian said, he’s about twelve years older so...You dig him right ? 

-...This isn’t how it works my boy. 

-But, you like older guys ? 

-I do. 

-So you like Batman ! 

-I don’t like every men that are older than me !

-Oh ? 

-No Billy. What the Hell ? 

-So...You don’t like Batman. 

-No, I do like him. 

-Really ! That’s great because...

-...As a friend ! I like him as a Friend ! Hell, I don’t even know who he is in real life. 

-Yes you do, I bet you figured it out. 

-Maybe. 

-You know it’s Bruce Wayne don’t you ? 

-What if I do ?

-Mom, you can fool a lot of people but not me. I know you’re smarter than you let people think, because you love when people underestimate you and all of a sudden they’re impressed because you’re way better than they thought you were. 

-...What are you, my shrink or something ? 

-My point is. You know who he is, he’s older, you think he’s hot...

-Wow wow wow, I never said I thought he was hot ! 

-Mom, I heard you whispering it to yourself that time he came back wounded and had to take his chest armor off. 

-Oh...You sneaky bastard.

-I’m pretty sure that’s not how you’re suppose to speak to your own son...

-It’s how I’m suppose to speak to my snake of a son who always get up in my business ! Curiosity killed he cat Billy ! 

-Well I’m not a cat so it doesn’t matter ! 

-I don’t even understand where you wanna go with all this ! 

-I was just wondering if you liked Batman ! 

-I do ! As a friend. And...? 

-You do ? 

-I do ! 

-Great, because him and Damian invited us over for dinner tomorrow night !

-WHAT ?! 

-I already said yes. Now we have to go. We’re totally going to try to set you two up with Dams by the way, so be ready. Don’t blush too much alright ? 

-....You little...

-I’m recording you right now mom, if you insult me I’ll call social services. 

-You think you’re funny don’t you ? 

-DAMN HILARIOUS ! 

Ignoring your heart racing like crazy just at the thought of going to have dinner at Bruce Wayne’s house, you grab your son (still in his grown ass man form) and tackle him down, tickling him mercilessly...Of course, because he’s so much bigger than you, it ends with a bloody nose for you, and a very sorry kiddo that order take out from your favorite restaurant, and puts on your favorite film. 

Oh that kid knew you too well. 

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

Destiny. 

You strongly believed in Destiny. 

But sometimes, fate could be a bitch, and right now, your son’s hand (a child once again) in yours, you could have punch it if it was a person. 

Oh god, you’d punch fate in the face so much. 

Fuck you fate, why did you have to be such a bitch ? Why did you have to drag (Y/N) all the way in front of the house of the guy she had a massive crush on but knew she’d never have a chance with ? WHY ?

You were pondering all of that yourself, when an older man open the door of the massive Wayne Manor (you felt so ridiculous, coming here with your old shitty cars that was such a wreck that most of it was held by duck tape). 

-Good evening, I am Alfred Pennyworth, Mr. Wayne’s butler. I suppose you are Lady (Y/L/N), young mister Billy’s mother ? 

-Yes. Hum...Nice to...meet you...Sorry I don’t know the protocol to...

-Oh do not worry Lady (Y/L/N), no protocol between us. You can call me Alfred, they all do. Now if you would please follow me. Oh by the way young mister Billy, thank you for the birthday card, Master Damian gave it to me, it was very...inventive. 

-Thanks ! I knew you’d like the dragons ! 

You took a look at your son, and how excited he was (lately, he spent A LOT of times in the Wayne Manor, with Damian and Jon, Superman’s son), and at Alfred, who smiled warmly to himself...You were so proud to have a kid as nice as your Billy. Wherever he went, you always had compliment about his behavior...You had absolutely no idea how he became such a respectable young boy, when you spent most of your time swearing like a sailor and all...But it was great. 

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

You rarely saw the bat without his cowl, but hot damn. You recognized his square jaw and lips that looked so damn kissable and...his eyes were wonderful. So blue. And he had amazing jet black hair, combed thoroughly. 

He was waiting with his sons in the dining room, and jumped up his chair (while his sons were snickering at him) when you and Billy came in. 

-(Y/N) ! Hi. I...I...What are you doing here ? 

Oh God. That was awkward. 

-Hum...My son he...Said...your son and you invited us for dinner ? 

-Oh...yeah...We did...I just thought...I just thought only Billy would come, for some reasons. 

-I’m sorry. If I’m intruding I can go, I...

-Oh no no no. Sorry to be so rude, it’s just ...A surprised. A pleasant one. 

He smiles at you, and it seems like a genuine smile, not the fake one he sometimes give his fellow leaguers, or the half-smirk he has often. It troubles you...because damn why do you like that guy so much ? 

He smiles at you but...Oh the entire dinner is awkward. Fortunately, Bruce’s older sons ask you a lot of questions, and talk to you, because Bruce do not utter another word  after he said it was pleasant for you to be here. What the hell right ? But what did you expect ? He was always like that. He rarely made connection, and wasn’t even expecting you to be here. It’s not because he talks to you when you’re on a job that he’d want to see you in his every day life...

He just doesn’t speak. Sometimes, he stares at you for a while, or peaks up from his plate when he thinks you’re not looking. He keeps glaring at his youngest son, and the way Dick, Jason and Tim look at him curiously is...Weird. Damian keeps making innuendos about how you and Bruce are very much like each other and...

He leaves before dessert, and the sorry look your son gives you is enough for you to elect yourself as the “biggest looser of the year”. If even a ten year old boy pitted you, well hell, that was something...

You knew it anyway. You didn’t expect much of the dinner (that was a lie, you had an entire scenario ready in your life, ending up with you and Bruce sneaking out in the garden to make out...). Batman was...a colleague. That was nice enough to let you into his own personal home. Granted, it was because your son was a very good friend of his but...Yeah. You don’t know what you were expecting really. 

Bruce Wayne was way out of your league.

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

You don’t go up in the Justice League headquarters for the next two months. You don’t want to see Batman, not before you’re over him. Not before you stop crushing on him...And you realize that it’s not just a crush. You’re in love. Fuck. 

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

Your son tells you Batman is asking after you, but you can’t trust the boy. Him and Damian are getting so well along, that they both decided to set you up together...but so far, their attempt was a big failure. It ended up with either Bruce just leaving without a word, off to go things that were actually important, or you making a fool out of yourself. 

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

As you’re saving the World with the League for the hundredth time, Clark corners you to ask you what was going on, why you weren’t coming up anymore...and if it was Bruce’s fault. 

You tell him you’re fine, you’re just not a fan of space. And it’s not Bruce’s fault, why would it be ? You don’t like the look Superman is giving you, and you remind yourself of talking to Billy when getting home, because you’re pretty sure your son is spreading some rumors about you and the Bat. 

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

You don’t make it home that day. Distracted by thoughts of Bruce and your unexplainable strong attraction to him, even though you know you have no chance, you don’t notice the enemy...You hear your son’s manly voice (powered up, adult form) as you feel an unbearable pain in your chest. What is that thing sticking out of between your boobs ? Did...Did something just pierced your body ? You feel someone’s strong arms catching you before you fall to the floor, and everything goes dark. 

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

When you wake up, your boy is sleeping in your bed, next to you, curled up against your side...and it looks kinda weird because he’s in his adult form.

But he’s not alone in the room. In a chair at the foot of your bed, Damian is sleeping tightly too, a blanket with batman symbols on it over him. 

And...Next to you, on a hospital chair, is Bruce. 

What...What was he doing here ? 

You stir in your bed, trying to sit up. It doesn’t even wake Billy up, damn your boy must be exhausted. Damian doesn’t budge either...It wakes Bruce up however, and when his eyes meet yours, his harsh features soften, his creased eye brows rise in relief, and a small smile tug at his lips. 

-You’re awake. 

He says weakly, clearly lacking sleep too. 

-I am. 

Your voice is hoarse, and dry, and it hurts when you speak. 

-What...What happened ? 

-You got stabbed. By a sword. A very big sword. You’re lucky to be alive. 

-...When ?

-You don’t remember ? 

-I’m not sure...

-Almost three months ago. 

-I’ve been out for three months ?!

You try not to raise your voice, as to not wake the kids but...three months ? 

-Yes. You scared your boy. 

You look at Billy tenderly, and push away some strand of his hair out of his face.

-Poor kid...He already went through a lot...I take it, if you’re here, it’s because you took care of him ? 

-Yes. He’s...him and Jon are Damian’s best friends. I couldn’t leave him alone. 

-Thank you. Really Bru...Batman, thank you. 

-We might be in the hospital wing of the League’s headquarter, but as you can see, i’m not wearing my costume. So please, call me Bruce. 

-Thanks Bruce. 

-You’re very welcome. You’d do the same for me. 

-Of course. 

An awkward silence ensue...It’s nice that he took care of your son, but you kinda want him to leave, because it’s...it’s just too painful. Seeing him here makes you hope he’s not there just because of your son, and hoping is bad. You learned that the hard way. 

None of your relationship ever ended well. You were unlucky in love. Fate was a bitch on the matter, you learned to accept it...but if Bruce was there...You just wished he’d leave. 

He was looking at you intensely, and it made you shiver. He probably didn’t mean it, but right now, you found him more intimidating than ever. 

-Well...You...You can go now. I’m ok. A bit groggy but, ok. I can take care of him. 

-I’m sure you can but...If you don’t mind, I’ll stay. 

-I do mind actually. 

You speak before you can think, and immediately regret it. Especially since Bruce, for a fraction of second, looked hurt by your reaction. 

-I mean...I’m ok. You can just...Go on with your activities. 

-It’s the middle of the day. I often work just at nights. 

-I bet you have plenty of things to do though. 

-But this is more important. 

-Stop it please. Just stop it. 

-What ? What did I do ? 

-You...you...Just go. 

-Why ?

-Leave.

-I won’t go until you tell me why. 

It was weird, having an argument with someone while you could only whisper (again, not wanting to wake up the boys). And...What was he doing ? Why wouldn’t he just leave ? 

-I don’t have to tell you why. 

-Then I won’t go.

-You’re infuriating Bruce. 

-Does it have something to do with you not coming up the space station those last six months ?

-What ?

-I couldn’t help but notice your absence. Usually, like me, you’d be up there almost every day. 

-Well, sorry to have a life...Wait, no, that sounded rude...Please just leave. 

-Again, not until you tell me why. 

-Stubborn bastard. 

-You couldn’t be more correct my dear. 

The way he calls you “dear” makes your heart flutter...but you know it doesn’t mean anything. It’s just a way of speaking. You make one last attempt at driving him away, because you’re not sure you can handle much more of this : 

-Bruce. I beg you. Just leave me alone. 

-I will, promise. I’d even never cross your pass ever again if you wish, and apparently, you wish to...Like, I can't help but think I’m the reason you don’t come up here anymore. So please, tell me what I did wrong. 

-You didn’t do anything wrong. 

-Then why do you want me to leave ?

-Alright ! Fine. You wanna know why ? Here’s why : For some reason, I’m attracted to you. I don’t know why I instantly felt drawn to you, but I did. I’m attracted to you in so many ways. And yes, I didn’t come up in the space station for a while because I was avoiding you, because I know you’re not interested, it’s not your thing, and especially not with me. So please, leave, because...because I’m...I’m in love with you. And seeing you here gives me false hope. Please. Just go. Because I know there’s no way you love me, or even like me...Right ?

You hate the fact that there’s hints of hope in your voice...You feel pathetic.

Especially since Bruce looks at you, his face emotionless...Or almost. Because, aren’t the corner of his mouth trying not to twitch up right now ? 

-I’m sorry to tell you that but...

Your heart stop. Of course. Of course you’d have no chance. He was about to break your heart, right there, right now. 

-You are extremely dense.

You’re stunned. Dense ? That’s...That’s not what you were expecting.

“Dense”. How rude.

-What a...shitty way of rejecting someone.

-Who says I’m rejecting you ?

-..You’re not ? 

-I’m not. 

-...Why ?

-Because for some reason, I’m attracted to you too. Except that I know why. It’s because you’re passionate, compassionate, the way you raise your son is amazing and impressive, he’s really a nice young man. You’re beautiful too, hope it doesn’t sound too vain of me to say so. When you’re around, my..uh..I’m not good with words, but basically, my heart races, and I can’t stop it. I tried. But I can’t. And it’s not that relationship do not interest me, it’s just...I don’t always have time for them, and I never met anyone who understood that. But you do. We often talked about that. The truth is, I’m tired of being alone. Of having no one to understand me, confort me...To listen to my cheesy declaration of love. Sorry for the cheesiness by the way. And besides, Damian...Damian actually convinced me to confront you about all of this, he’s the reason I’ve been pushing you right now to tell me why you wanted me to leave. He thinks...He thinks we’d be a good match.

-Smart boy. 

-I thought so too.

Natural. That’s how it feels between the two of you. Just...natural. As if you were handmade for each others. It’s very weird and confusing. But sometimes, weird and confusing is good.

-After, I’ll tell you why I fell in love with you. But right now, I’m just gonna kiss you alright ? 

-I’m good with that. Just...I love you too (Y/N). 

It was all so casual. All so normal. As if you two told each other a million times before that you loved each other, as if you were already an old couple. As if...As if it was Destiny for the two of you to end up together. As if from the moment you found a four year old Billy down the metro station, it was all written somewhere that you’d end up here. In Bruce Wayne’s arms. With his tongue in your mouth and your arms around his neck. 

You always strongly believed in destiny...There was just no way all the things that happened in your life to lead you here were just coincidences, you...A very manly and excited voice suddenly yelled, from the corner of the room : 

-YES ! NOW I’M REALLY A BAT-SON ! Haha, get it, cause my last name is Batson ? 

-It’s not funny if you explain it Billy...

You and Bruce turned around to be faced by both your young sons (one of whom was in his adult form, and was...dancing a happiness dance ?) The fit of laughter that took over you two was legendary. 

PS : Next time I write something drunk, please, tell me to fuck off. BECAUSE THIS IS TERRIBLE ! Tomorrow, I’m gonna read it and be like : “Wow what, why did I write that ?” and erase everything. Maybe rewriting it someday. OH MY GOD SHIT.

[coffeesforfuckers]

Our Summers Together Are My Best Kept Secrets And My Biggest Mistakes // Chapter Three

Ships: Peterick, Brallon, Ferard, Trohley, Jalex, Zian and others in the background

Description: Summers for most kids are spent going to the beach and on vacations with your family but lots are shipped off to summer camps for the whole summer. But the kids at Hempman Summer Camp actually beg to go! Patrick Stump, Andy Hurley and Joe Trohman all met there, they had all known each other for probably over a decade because of this absolutely amazing stay-away camp for kids from the ages of six to nineteen. All the kids that were there came back until they couldn't and they always had the same kids except a few new, younger, kids every year. That is until the year that the weird kid with the jet-black, dyed, black fringe and the crazy piercings and a couple tattoos comes in like he owns the place. That year also happens to be the same year that Patrick Stump gets gum stuck to the new emo kid's face and hair. It was love at first sight... But hate at first interaction for the blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy and the complete opposite for the new kid, Pete Wentz.

Chapter 3: Three: I Have a Forehead Texting Me and He's Kind of Cute?

Dallon

I lay sprawled out across my bed, I don’t know why I can’t sleep but I’m just wired. Probably just too much coffee? I’m scrolling through my phone while Spencer, Jon and Ryan all slept.

My phone dings with a new message and I check the notification.

New message from: Retrieving…

I tap it and Kik opens.

I have one new message from someone by the name of BeeboBreadbin . What the fuck? I’m intrigued.

BeeboBreadbin: What’s your favorite animal and why?

Who the fuck is this dude? And is he okay?

Dal-Do: What is this? School??

Dal-Do: The flamingo cause it’s gay I guess?

This person has my full attention and I know I’m not getting any sleep tonight.

BeeboBreadbin: Wtf??? Is your user a fucking play on the word dildo??

BeeboBreadbin: Kinky

Dal-Do: I know I am thanks

Dal-Do: How’d you get my kik?

Dal-Do: I’m is confuse

BeeboBreadbin: Nice Engli dude

BeeboBreadbin: It was on tumblr and I’m bored

BeeboBreadbin: Or should I say

BeeboBreadbin: I’m is bored

Dal-Do: Fuk off

Dal-Do: You just want this dick

BeeboBreadbin: I’m not against it

BeeboBreadbin: WHat do you look like btw?

I contemplate showing this random guy that literally found my account on Tumblr, of all places, what I look like. I mean it couldn’t hurt really to just show him what I look like, but I mean... I don’t even know what I mean. I’m too tired to think.

Dal-Do: /Image Attached/

Dal-Do: Sorry, I was really drunk in this pic but like thats the most recent I have of just myself and it’s too dark for a good one.

BeeboBreadbin: Def want that dick fmu

BeeboBreadbin: Like you’re hot as fuck help

BeeboBreadbin: /Image Attached/

BeeboBreadbin: Teach me ur wayz plz

BeeboBreadbin: *Cries*

Dal-Do: Wtf??? You’re so hot??? I’m??? Sobbing????

Dal-Do: Pls don’t show me ur god face anymore

Dal-Do: So sexi

Dal-Do: I met you like ten mins ago… I need to chill

Dal-Do: My gay just couldn’t help but slip out

BeeboBreadbin: Pls slip ur gay into my ass

BeeboBreadbin: I need help

BeeboBreadbin: Gonna go drink bleach brb

BeeboBreadbin: Gotta go drwon the cringe

BeeboBreadbin: Drown*

Dal-Do: My name’s Dallon btw

Dal-Do: I realized that rn my name is dildo and I don’t want ur hotness to think I’m a dildo

BeeboBreadbin: I’m Brendon

BeeboBreadbin: Not Brandon

BeeboBreadbin: Call me Brandon and I’ll fucking cut you

BeeboBreadbin: /Image Attached/

BeeboBreadbin: See

Dal-Do: Yes, I am so scared of a forehead with a knife, /Brandon/

BeeboBreadbin: I’LL CUT YOU!

Dal-Do: Sure you will

Dal-Do: If anything you’ll want my gay inside u

BeeboBreadbin: You right

BeeboBreadbin: I’m always a slut for a walking dildo

Dal-Do: I’m always a slut for a walking forehead

BeeboBreadbin: Bitch.

Damnit, this kid is actually really funny and he’s pretty fucking hot if I do say so myself. Even with a forehead bigger than his shitty bowl-cut, he was pretty fucking cute. Shit, what was I even thinking? I just met this kid.

Patrick

I felt bad, I was basically using Pete but even for someone as sloppy as him, he was really a fun person to have as a fuck buddy. He was hot as hell, rough, kinky and there were no strings attached! Perfect.

I know it’s fucked up but I’m not out and I’m the biggest commitment phobe on the planet. Yes, I understand that I’m problematic.

For once, I’m the first one awake. It’s only about six in the morning but I was wide awake. Pete squirms in his sleep, mumbling something. He talked in his sleep a lot, most of it was just incoherent mumbles and others were clear, mostly him muttering something to his mother or a friend.

I’m on my phone, checking all my notifications and such, texting some friends and writing down some lyrics.

“Patrick.” I hear and nearly jump out of my skin, I turn to find Pete sound asleep in the nearby bed.

“Yeah?” I raise my brow.

“Lay with me.” He murmurs sleepily.

“Um, What?” I choke in utter shock, this was probably the most crazy thing he’d said.

“Please, baby?” I feel the same itch that runs through my body when I’m in a relationship and begin to get jittery, needing to get out.

“Uh, I-I’m… P-Pete? I’m- er, uh, not…” I stammer out anxiously.

His words come out incoherent now and I know I can’t keep doing this anymore…

Pete

I am falling madly in love with Patrick Stump.

This is so bad.

I knew that Patrick won’t ever love me he’s not like that. He tells me all the time, he’s not the ‘forever with you’ type, he’s the ‘hump and dump’ type. It baffles me.

He’s so careful with everybody and everything, not wanting to upset anyone and yet this little ball of happiness is the biggest fucking slut on the face of the earth.

Damn, I want to hate him.

But, who could hate Patrick Stump .

Alex

The room was dim, light seeping in through the old smashed windows and the cracks in the old chipped wood of the abandoned wooden cabin Some light also poured in through the cracks and holes in the ceiling. The cabin was old, rotten, gross and falling to pieces but it was ours . And that’s all that mattered.

Hs fingers run through my somewhat long hair, his forehead pushed firmly to mine, the tips of our noses brushing. Our legs were tangled around each other as we sat across from each other on the ground.

“Lex?” I can feel his warm breath caress my lips.

“Yes, boo?” I coo back softly.

“So, um… What…” He pauses, pulling his head back from mine, “What are we?”

“Alive.” I reply with a coy smile, leaning in to kiss him again but he moves back, detangling himself from me. He seems frustrated by my reply.

“You know what I mean, Alex.” He grumbles, using my full name.

“I don’t know? We’re just friends that are like… More than friends but… Less than lovers… You know?” I let out a shaky breath and an awkward frown.

“No, Alex.” He huffs, “I don’t know.” He stands and starts to pace, “We’re either dating or somebody's being used.”

“It’s not like that! I just don’t want labels and people like, knowing!  I like our secret , Jack. I love this .” I frown sadly.

“I don’t ‘ love this ’. I want to hold your hand, kiss you, touch you, love you, wherever and whenever I can. I want to scream my love from the rooftops because, I love you, Alex . You never say it back but I’m fucking madly in love with you and you know it, Alex.” Jack tosses his hands in the air, “I don’t want to be a dirty little secret anymore, Alexander.” I wince at him using my full-on first name.

I let out a soft sigh, “I’m not ready for that… I like how we already are…” My voice cracks with desperation.

“I’m not doing this anymore.” He shakes his head and I feel my heart start to sink, “I’m done… I want to be something that you're proud to call yours.”

I swallow hard, “Wha-... What are you trying to say, Jacky…?” I’m trembling.

“We’re done. This… Is done.” He looks me dead in the eyes as he shoots his words like daggers into me. I let out a sob and then I can’t stop, shaking violently and bawling my eyes out. Jack shakes his head at my tears, turning to leave.

“I love you, Jack!” The words I’d neglected to say for so long finally spilled from me, my voice leaking emotion that spilled over the room.

“Well, you’re too late.”

And he’s gone.

Dallon

I’d been talking with Brendon for about two, almost three, weeks but I already knew this kid was something special. All of my friends were extremely concerned with how attached to this random stranger I’ve become.

BeeboBreadbin: Dallon

BeeboBreadbin: Dal

BeeboBreadbin: Dal-Do

BeeboBreadbin: Yo!!! Dildo!!! Fucking reply damnit!!!!!!!

BeeboBreadbin: The forehead is gonna come stab ya ass

BeeboBreadbin: (With this dick!!!!)

Dal-Do: Pls do

BeeboBreadbin: Dildo! You’re back!!

Dal-Do: And gayer than ever!! ;)

BeeboBreadbin: Fuckin’ gayyy

Dal-Do: You know it

BeeboBreadbin: Wanna see my new room decoration?? (It not for indended use btw)

Dal-Do: Yus, send (n00ds) pls

BeeboBreadbin: Those come later

BeeboBreadbin: /Image Attached/

Dal-Do: IS THAT A /GLASS/ FUCKING DILDO!!!???

BeeboBreadbin: Yee! (Not for anal use I swear)

BeeboBreadbin: I named it Dallon <3

Dal-Do: What an honor it is to be shoved up your ass, /Brandon/

BeeboBreadbin: >:(

BeeboBreadbin: It’s decoration

BeeboBreadbin: /Image Attached/

BeeboBreadbin: On tha Pianooo

Dal-Do: Urielectric?

BeeboBreadbin: ???

BeeboBreadbin: O shit that thing

BeeboBreadbin: I do the musics and that’s what my studio (aka my friend’s basement) is called.

Dal-Do: You don’t live with your fam?

BeeboBreadbin: Nah, they kicked me out cause I’m a bi atheist

Dal-Do: A Gaytheist?

BeeboBreadbin: Y

BeeboBreadbin: E

BeeboBreadbin: S

Dal-Do: Relatable

BeeboBreadbin: /Image Attached/

Dal-Do: WHaT ArE U doInG WIth uR LEg!?!?!!????!!!

Dal-Do: Are those leather pants!???!!!

Dal-Do: You fuckin’ SL00TE!!

Dal-Do: ANd ThoSE BOOtS??!!

Dal-Do: ARE YOU A FUCKING STRIPPER??!!!???!!

BeeboBreadbin: Only for u, boo ;)

Dal-Do: That’s gay

BeeboBreadbin: Yep, That’s me

Dal-Do: THAT’S SO RAVEN!!!!!!

BeeboBreadbin: Bitch you cheating on me with Raven Simone

Dal-Do: We ain’t even dating tf?

BeeboBreadbin: Damnit

BeeboBreadbin: My Plot

BeeboBreadbin: FOILED!

BeeboBreadbin: *Sobbing*

Dal-Do: That was fucking lammmmeeeeee!

BeeboBreadbin: Just like you

Dal-Do: /Image Attached/

Dal-Do: Gon fite u

BeeboBreadbin: Ooo!! Sweati and Sexi!!!

Dal-Do: Damn right hoe

Dal-Do: You better fucking enjoy that pic!!

Dal-Do: Everybody thinks I’m a psycho from running around first to get all sweaty and then taking fucking weird ass pics of myself while running.

BeeboBreadbin: That’s hawwttt!!!

BeeboBreadbin: I’d lick you, bro (Full Homo)

Dal-Do: Wtf??? Lmao, you’re fucked up

BeeboBreadbin: You rite

BeeboBreadbin: I is

BeeboBreadbin: Fuck I gtg, ttyl

Dal-Do: Awe ;,( come back soon

I frown and toss my phone to the side. May as well go see what everybody else is doing for once.

Chapter Masterlist ~

Previous -

One - The Gum Habit Gone Bad

Two - On the Rooftop with You

Next -

Four - Memories I Keep Locked Away for Times Like This

[bob-sheldon]

A Temporary Condition.

Plot: Steve is sleep deprived, hurt and having a rough time of it. Will his boyfriend exboyfriend rise to the occasion? Fluffy romantic H/C.

Content warnings: Child abuse, cheating, drinking, language and other canon-typical shit.

A/N: Thank yall for the 400 followers! Also this story started out really good but I got my wisdom teeth removed and I feel like Steve got progressively more OOC? Anyway it’s still good work for someone on painkillers lmfao.

Slam.

The cold Tulsa night hit me like a smack. The screen door hit my drunk father in the face, he stepped back rubbing his nose, giving me enough time to get out of grabbing reach. My old man was bad enough when he wasn’t boozing up. He was always irritable and mean but alcohol added a level of unpredictability I particularly despised.

“You little bastard. You’re in for it this time, you no good bastard! This is the last time you pour vinegar in my Jack Daniels bottle! Come here and take it like a man!”

‘Bastard’ was one of those words my father pioneered and used uncontrollably, especially towards me. It was supposed to cast doubt he was my real father and let me tell you I couldn’t care either way. I hope my real dad is still out there, boozing it up in Gatlinburg and missing his only son. This man who gave me a bruise once a week for 17 years was no father of mine. Mr. Curtis was the closest thing to a dad I really had and he got hit by a train. That wasn’t too surprising. I have shit luck.

“Catch me first, asshole.” I spat on the ground at his feet and leapt off the porch, landing awkwardly on one of my ankles. To hell with it. Escape first. Worry later.

I patted around for my keys in the pocket of my black leather jacket. Nothing. Empty. They were on my desk. And the Thunderbird remained parked, gleaming under the streetlight. A promise of safety. There was no way in hell I was going back in the house for my keys. I’d never get out with my dad in a mood like this. My ankle smarted but I had no choice but to hotfoot it. Where? The Curtis’ were on the other side of the slums, it was drunk-thirty for Two-Bit and Johnny was probably in the same sort of situation. That’s the problem with having friends in the same socioeconomic situation as you, they can’t really help out.

Buck’s. My only hope. Maybe Dal wasn’t around. We hadn’t talked in a week, which wouldn’t have been much before but he was my boyfriend or something like that. We’d been taking it slow since we were 15 and by slow I mean real fucking slow. Old lady on her way to church slow. We’d kiss once or twice, cuddle in jail and pretend we didn’t know each other later. But after he broke up with Sylvia we really became a pair. I’d hang around Buck’s and beat his ass at pool, I’d sleep in his bed most nights. That was until I saw him chatting up a greasy girl at the Dingo. Then we had a blow out. But that was Friday, this was Thursday.

Dad stumbled off the porch and I booked it the best I could, Cuban heels slamming the asphalt with rhythm. A stabbing searing pain radiating up my leg like fire. I turned around at the end of the block just to see my old man slip and fall, hitting the ground with a thud and a grunt. Drunks, am I right?

I slowed down a little after that, limping past the stoops and derelict cars towards the edge of town. No one was out. An eerie fog always seemed to come over Tulsa at midnight on a work night. Several lights were still on in places where mother’s nursed their babies or working folk got off their shifts. One or two houses oozed loud jazz and one or two more radiated drunk yelling. I shuffled past those particularly quickly.

By the time I got to Buck’s my ankle could hardly hold my weight. I limped up the stairs and threw myself through the door. It was empty. It was the middle night on a work day with nothing to celebrate. The hardwood as waxed, the chairs were up, Buck stood at the bar with a half-empty glass of beer. He looked up, half-drunk honey colored eyes scanning me. Buck was the kinda guy I trusted, a good old boy who had no agenda and liked drinking and horses. And he liked Hank Williams. The mark of a pure soul.

“Hey, if it isn’t my favorite redneck. Lasso any bad guys lately?” I mumbled, leaning against the wall. It had been a running joke that Buck was Oklahoma’s No. 1 crime-fighting cowboy since he got drunk and tracked a car jacket down on horseback. He was larger than life.

“Nah, nah. None of that. Whatcha doin’ out after curfew? If you’re going up for a late night hook up, your loverboy went to sleep an hour ago.” He scratched the golden beard forming in his chin and pending over to peel the label off a bootle of Ancient Age.

“Bed? Before one? He’s gotta be sick or something.” I reached down to rub my ankle, secretly hoping he was. The only time Dal wasn’t mean was when he was sick. Then he was just quiet. It was an eerie change but at least he wouldn’t have the energy to yell at me if he was sick.

“Nah. He’s just depressed,” The cowboy slid the empty bottle in the trash and continued to pick at the label. “Sylvia came back and promptly cheated on him with Tim.”

A smile curled across my lips at the thought of that dirty broad teaching him a lesson. Karma was a bitch. Not quite as much of a bitch as Sylvia. That girl was trouble. She’d been my enemy since second grade when I pulled her pigtail and she kicked me in the crotch. We’d gotten off on the wrong foot and never tried to patch things over. After the incident with Johnny I had nothing but contempt for her. She got her kicks taking advantage of boys and beating me in drag races. Despite her many negotiable attributes, she was never predictable and and always exciting. That’s why she earned the nickname Jenny Dean. A greaser girl of the highest degree.

I limped to the bottom of the stairs and did the most obnoxious thing I could thing to do.

“HEY STELLA!”

Silence.

“HEY STEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLA!”

I heard footsteps and then a door slam. Dal loved that movie but hated that scene. God knows why. Said it reminded him of his childhood.

“There are people trying tah sleep, yah shithead.” He complained in his thick Bronx accent, face popping from behind the wall, sky blue eyes staring at me in the low-light. God he was gorgeous. Dal was the strangest looking human being on earth but in a good way. He looked like a cat. And he had platinum hair that stuck out every which way. People were split 50/50 on if he was the hot or hideous.

“What? People like you? You probably weren’t sleeping anyway. Too busy stewing about your girl. Or were you stewing about me, baby? Your man?” I grinned up at him as big as I could grin.

“Nah, nah.” He took a steep closer down me, taking his damn time. “Just thinking about you, baby. Always you.”

“Get down here and carry me up the damn stairs and maybe I’ll forgive you, maybe.” I took a step closer, landing awkwardly on my ankle and crumpling to the ground, catching myself on the stair case. My eyes stung but I clung to my dignity, smacking my hand against the stairs angrily. It throbbed. It stabbed. Dal rushed to me, bare feet pitter-pattering against the pine.

For all his cold toughness Dal couldn’t help giving a shit about everyone. He was there every time Johnny got jumped, he was always dragging Two-Bit out of ditches when he was drunk. One time I saw him nursing one of Ponyboy’s bloody noses, ringed finger holding a rag under his nose just as throughly as Darry. And me, if someone so much as looked at me funny he’d pound them. There was something so nice about Dal caring since he made a life off not caring about anything, it was like it really meant something.

“You ain’t looking so hot, baby.” He mumbled as sweet as I ever heard him, pulling my arm around his shoulder and his arm around my waist. My head lulled and dark spots appeared in my eyesight like mold.

“It’s a-it’s a temporary condition,” I mumbled, quoting some Paul Newman movie I’d seen with Ponyboy and Sodapop. I set my head against his shoulder. God, how I miss that shoulder. “ain’t slept in two days. ‘N I think I broke my ankle trying to get away from my old man. Just need some sleep is all. Sure you and Buck’d love to play nurse.”

Buck chortled and put away the bottle of booze. He’d been quiet during our little reunion. He kept out of Dal’s business but was always there when you needed him. And he liked me.

“Nah. I’ll dress it and let you sleep but don’t expect me to bring you breakfast in bed. If you’re looking for a housewife go hang around Soda.” He started up the stairs and I hobbled with him, leaning heavily on him.

“I ain’t trying to make no one my wife, neither are you Dal. Neither is Sylvia or Tim or Buck.” I whispered, barely clinging to consciousness. Walking there had been the worst idea of my life, the pain was so bad I thought I was going to pass out.

Dal sighed and drug me up the stairs and down the hall without much issue, depositing me on the bed. I flopped back onto the dirty quilt, feeling the familiar threadbare blankets under my tired body. The smell of smoke and Dal’s sweat. Comforting. I would have fallen asleep if it hadn’t been for Dal loudly rummaging through the cabinet in the adjoining bathroom.

Next thing I knew he pulled off my shoes and then my one-size-too-small jeans.

“I’m not in the mood you randy bastard.” I slurred, forcing my eyes open.

“Shattup.” He light a Kool and went to wrapping my severely swollen ankle with an ace bandage, making sure to get the right angle with doctor’s precision. Dal had been hurt everywhere so he knew about every injury a person could have. He even caught tuberculosis hiding out in a warehouse in New York once.

“No gymnastics or leaping out of a moving car or any of that shit you do, you dig?” He looked at me and I nodded with a bleary smile, lifting one eyebrow.

He crawled into bed next to me, pushing his muscular frame against my side and puffing away on his cigarette in the dim lamp light. The rooms at Buck’s always seemed to be dark no matter what time it was. I figured it was the nicotine stain on the windows and the ugly drapes. Dally’s room wasn’t like the others. I can see it now, yellowed walls and posters of the Alamo and Jimmy Dean. Books that Dally didn’t read on the dresser, ceiling fan clicking away. And the bed. A full sized bed so there was barely room for two muscular boys. I think Dal liked having to huddle but he never said it.

I must have blacked out for a couple seconds because I felt him tuck the blankets around my neck and his fingers run through my greasy hair. Was this what he did when I was asleep?

“I love ya, you little shit.” He murmured quietly.

A smile spread across my sore bruised face.

“Love you too, Dal.”

[storytimecatb]

Got carried away with this. Oops. Another Bob story. ---- Today was the day that you were to marry James. The chapel was full of family and friends, your stomach was filled with butterflies. The bridal chorus started playing and your father walked down the isle to give you away. All was going well. The minister turned to him "do you James ___ take y/n to be your lawfully wedded wife?" Silence. Fucking silence. He looked at you "I can't." and jogged off down the isle. You heard his mother screech "James!!" And chase after him. Your sister stood beside you and Bob came running to your side. He was your best friend, and you were his. You were about 99.9% sure he saw you as one of lads. They walked you back to the room you got ready in, "Did that really just happen? Did I get fucking dumped on my fucking wedding day in front of everyone?" Bob quietly answered "yeah, that happened." You held back from snapping at everyone "it was a rhetorical question." Your sister came back with a glass of wine that you threw back. "What do you want me to tell everyone?" "You just tell them to go the fuck home." You stormed out in your white dress, Bob followed to make sure you were okay and because you forgot your purse. He handed you the pack of cigarettes and a lighter from your bag. "Thanks Bob, I'm sorry if I'm being a bitch." He smiled "it's alright, you're allowed to be a bitch after what just happened." You were still in shock, "that just fucking happened." Bob swayed beside you, unsure of what to do. Your phone blew up with texts asking if you were okay, you shut it off. He handed you the purse, "let's get a drink, you need a drink. We'll take my car." You both walked to the parking lot and got into his car, he started listing off bars "which one did you wanna go to? Rosie's, esquire, hard times?" You weren't sure if the last one was a joke, "Bob?...bob! I need to go home and change my clothes." He looked at the dress "of course, where to?" "My place." It wasn't just your place though. Bob came in with you, and coming down the hallway with his bags was James. You had nothing to say to him, he just rubbed your arm and gave a measly "I'm sorry" and was out the door. Now, now it was your place. Bob mumbled "prick" under his breath. "Don't worry y/n, someday he'll regret it." You finally felt reality sink in, you collapsed on the floor crying. Bob held you, helped you up and to your bedroom. The bastard left the place a mess, the drawers were pulled out revealing how empty they were and half the closet was gone. Bob shut the closet door and shut the drawers. You were sat on the bed "is there something wrong with me?" Bob knelt on the floor in front of you wiping away your tears. "There's absolutely nothing wrong with you, it's him. He must be really fucking stupid to walk away from an amazing woman like you." You looked at Bob and could tell he genuinely meant it, his kind eyes gave you some comfort. You half smiled. "Okay I'm going to shower, and I'll be ready to go, is that alright?" He helped you up and gave you a big warm hug "of course it's okay." He proceeded to walk out, "Bob wait!!!" He stopped in the doorway, "what's up y/n?" You faced your back to him, "I need help getting out of this stupid thing." He looked at the corset style dress, "How the hell did they get you in this thing?" You laughed, he always had a way of making you feel better in any bad situation. He managed to loosen the dress, "Did I do that right?" You pushed the dress down off your body, "Yes, thank you." Bob looked at you, a way he's never looked at you before. "Uhm, you could help yourself to whatever.." you stood in black lingerie that was meant for your future husband to see. "Yeah! I'm gonna get a drink." He just about crashed into the wall on his way out. You stood in the shower wondering if you were wrong about how Bob felt about you. Maybe you were the one who stuck him in the friend zone. You washed all the hairspray out of your hair and took off the makeup that was ruined by tears. After your shower you threw on jeans and an old Toronto Blue Jays T-shirt from when you and your sister went on a spontaneous trip and ended up at a ballgame and tied your hair into a ponytail. "Alright, I'm ready!" Bob stood in the kitchen and finished his beer, "hey, there's y/n! You weren't you under all the makeup and hair. I don't know who that was." He joked, you gave his arm a little slap "Shut up, let's go now." He drove you to a bar called Crusade. You expected it to smell like cigarettes and be filled with dudes arm wrestling and shit. It was actually quite lovely for a bar. The bartender was a sweet older lady "Bob, you're back!" She gave him a beer, "Y/N, this is Christine, she owns the place. Christine this is y/n and she could probably use a shot." He shot her a smile "Any particular reason why?" Bob didn't want to say anything and tried to cover for you "She's just.." you finished off his sentence "My fiancé left me at the alter." She gave you a shocked look "Shit. Sweety you need more than a shot." She gave you two shots of whiskey and a beer cheering you on to chug it. You've never seen a woman her age act the way she did. She was fun and welcoming. "Okay I'll leave you two to it. It was nice meeting you." You could see why Bob brought you here, he probably came here whenever he went out for drinks. It was quiet and low key, it was so him. "How'd you find this place?" You asked him, he looked into his pint of beer "After my last breakup, I just kept walking and eventually ended up here. It just made me feel better, so I kept coming." You gave him a smile, then your shower thoughts came back into your head, the alcohol wasn't helping you suppress your curiosity. "Bob, have you ever seen me as more than just a friend?" His eyes shot straight up to look at you "What do you mean?" He knew what you meant, but you repeated the question again. "Have you Bob Hall ever seen me as more than just a friend?" He shut his eyes and held his head in his hand "Of course I have... but you were in love with someone else. I didn't want to ruin that for you , let alone ruin our friendship." He signalled Christine over "Can we get a couple more shots? Thanks." He threw one back. "Do you have anything to say to that or are we done talking about it?" He seemed so bothered by it. You wanted to confess that today you saw him as more than just a friend. You saw that he would go to the greatest lengths to keep you happy and to help you. "I'm sorry, it's probably inappropriate of me, having just been dumped and all... and wooooo this liquors strong. Am I right? Hey, when's the next tour?" You quickly changed subjects, "We have no clue when the next tour is, we're just enjoying the break. Vans in Cuba with Bondy and Larry. Benjis chilling with his girl down in Florida. I came home because you invited me to your wedding." Awkward silence filled the spaces between you two. "Should we go now?" He nodded "I'll call a cab to take you to yours." You feared the idea of being alone in that stupid apartment. "Can you stay over? You can have the room, I'll sleep on the couch or whatever." Sure enough he agreed. You both got into the cab he called. It was late, you managed to open the door and stumbled in drunk. Bob laughed and caught you "Jesus, let's get you into bed, alright?" He helped you take your shoes off and watched you undress yet again. He put the blanket over you "Goodnight, y/n." You felt the shower feelings come up, in a drunken stoop you thought 'why not'. "Bob wait... I see you as more than a friend and I also want to thank you for everything you did today. You made it a whole lot better, it won't be completely better right away but I'm glad you were there." He smiled and gave you a kiss on the forehead. "Get some sleep, I'll see you in the morning." You woke up with a banging headache and stumbled out to the kitchen, bob had already showered and was making breakfast. "Good morning." God why was he so sweet. "Morning." You remembered what you said last night, "I'm sorry about last night, what I said.." he walked over to you "it's alright.." his kind eyes gave you that warm comforting feeling. He gently put his hand so that it was rest on your cheek, he ran his thumb over your lips in a way that made you tingle. "Kiss me." You whispered, and he did.