#you are literally screwing yourself.....and digging the hole worse)

[roseband]

...

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

I Melt With You - Bakugou Katsuki

All Parts:

Part 7:

You don’t see him for nearly four weeks.

Apparently, Bakugou actually listening to your request was a one time deal- and you’d already used it up a month ago.

You watch him though- once again leafing through newspapers and headlines and hero highlights. Day by day he looks a little more angry, high-strung and volatile as he brushes aside nosy press and zealous citizens. He’s never mean to them, Dynamite never is, but he is short- no longer sticking around to bask in the praises so many seem to heap onto him. You begin to think that maybe that’s a hint of Bakugou showing though; a bit of whoever he is when he shows up at your door. The thought leaves you checking your balcony at night, hoping and praying not to see him standing there half-dead.

You think you understand now: no matter what he agreed to, Bakugou was still trying to fix his problems himself. And that’s perfectly fine, you know full well you’re not anyone special, but still, a part of you can’t help but hurt for him. Can’t help but wish he wasn’t so intent on running himself ragged for the entire world to see. 

When you see him next, Bakugou is knocking on your balcony door. Knuckles against the glass, sluggish and slow as he wraps another arm around his abdomen. He’s still in costume, but forgoing the mask- it’s hard to miss the purpling under his eyes, even harder to miss the blood dried up across his forehead.

“C’mon, did we not just have this conversation?” You sigh, ushering him in quickly. “The whole reason I told you to start coming over more often is because of this. Believe it or not, but I actually take no joy out of seeing you hurt.”

“Yeah. Whatever. Stop complaining. It’s a few busted knuckles and some blood- no need to bitch about it like I’m fuckin’ dying.”

Bakugou shuffles past you, hunched over and slow. He’s grunting, huffing in pain, twitching fingers clutching at the seared edge of his costume. There’s a hole burned through the material. His exposed ribs are covered in pink, angry skin.

“No, it’s burns too. Apparently.” You tell him, hovering just behind him. You help him settle on your couch. “Sit tight, I’ll go get the first aid kit. Maybe a few damp towels too.”

You follow a quick routine, gathering your med kit, and dampening a few towels with cool water. You’re back at his side in record time, cracking and shaking an instant cold-compress between your fingers. You wrap it in a towel, handing it to him.

“Just hold it. And don’t fight, please. If your knuckles swell up anymore it’s just going to be an even bigger mess for me.” You stare him down until he relents. “Actually, on second thought- wait on that. Take your shirt off first.”

“What the hell? No.”

“What do you mean, no? You’re wasting time, just take it off already. The burn isn’t gonna clean itself up and I can’t help you if all the fabric is in the way and I-“ 

You pause, looking up at his face. Bakugou won’t meet your eyes but he’s blushing. Just slightly, but you see it and you roll your eyes.

“Seriously? Now is literally the worst time for shame. Just do it. I don’t care. I see people’s bodies every day of my life.”

It’s Bakugou’s turn to roll his eyes, but then he huffs, sitting taller. He sucks in a harsh breath, biting out a curse as he shifts, arms rigid and tight when he shucks the costume off.

Under normal circumstances- you would probably be flustered. Although you were telling the truth, you did see people’s bodies every day, theirs never looked like Bakugou’s. Never looked like his defined pectorals and utterly ridiculous abs. Fortunately though, this wasn’t normal circumstances. Instead of smooth skin, Bakugou was covered in a large burn. A nasty looking one sprawling wide across his ribs, lines of irritation continuing to crawl red and angry up his back. You wouldn’t focus on anything but that.

“Sorry if this hurts. Really. But I have to.” You mutter, pressing a cool rag to the burn.

Bakugou sucks a breath, hissing before he screws his eyes shut. You try to apply gentle pressure, but even so, you’re sure it still hurts. It must if he’s hardly even fighting your treatment.

“The good news is, it’s only second degree.” You murmur, removing the rag gently, careful not to accidently drag it against his skin. “But, it’s across your ribs so it’ll probably hurt while you’re doing just about anything.”

“Coulda told you that my fuckin’ self.”

“I’m just saying. Just telling you what I think. Can I- can I ask you something though?”

He opens his eyes, squinting for a moment before he nods.

“It’s- I’m not sure how to say this, but these look identical to the burns you cause. Did you- did you do this to yourself?” You ask softly, delicately. “Are these from your quirk?”

Bakugou’s glare seems to intensify, red eyes seething and angry. You try not to shrink up, but truth be told, Bakugou cut an intimidating figure. A moment passes, and then he relents- eyes softening just a tiny bit as he averts them.

“Villain had a stupid quirk. Called it repel or some shit. Got blasted before I even knew what was happening.”

“So they’re yours, sort of, but not really. That’s alright. I only asked out of curiosity. Wasn’t trying to insinuate anything.”

“Yeah whatever, leech.”

“Hey, can you at least try to be nice to me?”

“No.”

“Yeah, probably should’ve guessed you’d say that.” You sigh, before backing away from him. You turn, digging through the first aid kit to find some gauze and medical tape. “Alright, sit up for me.”

Bakugou grunts, but does as he’s told. He hisses when the burned skin shifts, and you feel sorry for him all over again. It truly did look painful.

“Hey- uh, do you,”

“Spit it out already.”

“You barely let me even start- actually, you know what? Never mind. What I was gonna ask was,” You pause, looking up at him. “It looks like it hurts. Do you want my help? Like, my quirk I mean.”

“Fuck no.”

Bakugou’s face contorts into a sneer, jaw set and lips drawn thin across sharp teeth. He looks wild, and the tiredness in his eyes isn’t helping.

“Okay- okay, I get it. I won’t. I was just asking.” You assure, pressing some gauze lightly over the burn. Bakugou hisses again, and you wish he’d just let you help him already. “But really, it looks like it hurts, and I can see how tired you are on top of that. The option’s open, is all I’m saying. I wouldn’t mind.”

He just nods tightly before averting his eyes. You try to smile reassuringly at him, but something still doesn’t sit right with you. Maybe it’s the way his eyes look panicked, darting and tracking every shadow of your apartment, or maybe it’s the slight tremors you can feel under your fingertips. You wonder what happened- if he’d even tell you at all.

You shake the thought from your head, making quick work with the gauze. With gentle pressure you cover the large burn, securing the cloth with thin strips of medical tape. Under your hands, Bakugou seems rigid. He’s twitching and tensing, muscles contracting with every breath, his hands fisting the fabric of your couch. You watch him bite back another wince, squeezing the couch cushion until his knuckles go white. You finish covering the burn, resolving to try your earlier question again.

“Burns are one of the most painful injuries, you know. And yours is nothing to laugh at. So even if it’s only a little, just my skin and not my quirk, I’d still like to help you.” You start, sitting back on your knees to look up at him. “Only if you’d let me, though.”

Bakugou just stares, breathing slowly. His eye twitches, and then he speaks. “Why do you keep helping me?”

You blink back at him, the wind almost knocked out of your lungs. You’d already answered a similar question, several times, but this didn’t feel like those other times. Now his voice was quiet, defeated and grumbling, bitten out through uneven breaths. He wasn’t asking about everyone else- Bakugou was asking why you kept helping him.

You begin to wonder all over again- where he’d been, who he’d been fighting. Whoever if was seemed to still sit with him; puppeting him into asking things the Bakugou you knew would never ask.

“Because I meant what I said earlier. I don’t like seeing you hurt- especially not when I know I can help you.” You sigh, crossing your arms around your stomach. “I don’t like seeing anybody hurt, you know? And I mean, I know I’m not exactly saving people on the scale you are, but I still like to try. In my own way.”

Bakugou seems to just look at you for a moment, before his shoulders are slumping.

“Fine. Leech.”

“Huh?”

“Take your glove off.” He says flatly, hardly even blinking as he regards you. “One. And don’t use your quirk.”

You straighten a bit, nodding minutely. Bakugou watches you with intense focus, tracking you as you slip a glove off. You’re not sure what to do next, but then he’s grabbing hold of your wrist, curling his slightly shaking fingers around it. For a moment you assume the tremors must be residual adrenaline- but the feeling coursing through your veins next feels anything but that.

Your side feels hot, a burn crawling across your ribs to mirror Bakugou’s; but almost as soon as the heat rises, it’s snuffed out. Instead of the subtle warmth you’d come to associate with him- it’s cold. A chill through your veins as if you’d been out in the snow for too long. It’s not overwhelming, but you feel it, shivering slightly as goosebumps claim smooth skin. It’s fear- but more than anything else, it’s sadness. Something slow and sluggish. Makes your blood feel like gelatinous sludge until he lets go of you.

You feel a little sick, a little nauseous, and when you look at Bakugou it only makes the sinking feeling worse. He’s got his eyes closed, huffing a deep sigh of relief. Something that covers his entire face in solace and has your heart shattering.

You didn’t use your quirk- but you could tell, from a single touch, that whatever he was feeling, whatever he was dealing with, should’ve taken just about anyone out- but there he was. Solid and stubborn like always.

You wonder where he gets that strength from. What possible reserves Bakugou could possibly have left to drawn from.

He must see the look on your face because then he’s averting his eyes. “Don’t fuckin’ say anything. I already know, and I’m not gettin’ into it with you of all people.”

His insult hardly holds any bite, just defensiveness and strange apprehension. You steamroll right on past it.

“It’s- are you sure? Bakugou, that’s- I’ve never,”

“No.”

His tone is steel, eyes boring into yours with a resolve you’d never seen before. Bakugou seems unmovable in that moment, unbreakable, even as his body nearly collapses from exhaustion. It’s an impressive thing; to watch a fire catch on embers you could’ve sworn were doused already.

You think there’s a quiet strength in that- a power all his own that has nothing to do with explosions, or shouting, or fists.

“Yeah. Okay.” You nod. “That’s- I get it. Not tonight.”

Bakugou seems abated by that as he sinks back into the couch. He looks at you expectantly, and then flicks his eyes back to his bruised knuckles.

“Gonna fix this shit or not?” He grumbles. “It’s your fuckin’ job isn’t it?”

And just like that you’re shocked back to life. You slip your glove back on, pulling his bruised hands toward you.

His hands are a mottled mess of bruises and burns and scabbed over scrapes. They’re warm, nearly pulsating with heat, and you try your best to handle them delicately. Luckily, the cold compress seemed to have helped the swelling, and all you have left to do is press a few butterfly bandages into the larger cuts. It’s quick work and before you know it, you’re wrapping his knuckles up with an ace bandage.

“Hey, I have a question.” You start, carefully weaving the bandage around his hand. “You don’t have to answer or anything, but I am curious.”

Bakugou rolls his eyes, but he looks a little more tired then before. Less combative. “Go. Ask.”

“It seems like you’ve always got these bruises? Do you not wear gloves?”

“No. Course not. How the hell am I supposed to make a massive fuckin’ explosion wearing those piece-a-shits?”

You look at him, and Bakugou’s eyes are a little more lidded than before. His voice sings sincerity though. More conviction than ever.

“Yeah. I didn’t think of that.” You laugh under your breath. “Sorry- dumb question, I guess.”

“Yep.”

“You’re not supposed to agree with me!”

“Had to. It was true.” He just shrugs, watching you intently. Then he’s sitting up a little, shifting to get more comfortable. “You fucked up the left one. Do it again.”

“I- I just finished that one!”

“Yeah? And? I’m telling you to do it again.”

“And I’m telling you it’s fine.”

“God, you fuckin’ suck at this. I’m a pro-hero, aren’t you supposed to kiss the ground I walk on?”

“No. Tried that already, remember? You still didn’t seem to like me when I was playing nice at work.” You roll your eyes, but start rewrapping his hand anyway. “You know, if all of the pro-heroes are as difficult as you, I might as well just quit now.”

“What- you haven’t fuckin’ met ‘em yet?”

“Nope. Just you.”

Bakugou doesn’t say anything, but when you glance up at him, he’s not looking at you. His eyes are staring straight past, focusing on a spot on the wall. It might just be the low lighting, but you swore you could’ve seen a smile edging at the corner of his lips.

“Not missin’ much.” He says, clearing his throat. “They’re all losers compared to me.”

You nearly balk at that- the brazen tone catching you by surprise almost as much as the words themselves did. You’re about to scold him, for his hubris and for his attitude, but when you look at him he’s smiling openly. A grin that only widens when you scrunch your eyebrows up.

“You’re too easy, leech.” Bakugou smirks. “Could say anything and you’d flip shit.”

“I would not!”

“What the hell do you call that then?” He nods in the direction of your hands, the way one of them is curled into a fist. “Look pissed to me.”

“That’s not even- and who even gave you the right- you hypocrite!” You sputter, almost growling when Bakugou’s smile just widens. “God, you know what, no- I’m not giving you the reaction. I know that’s all you’re after anyways. Jerk.”

“Been called worse. Gotta up your insult game, dumbass.”

“No, I think jerk suits you fine.” You finish with his bandage, placing his hands on his lap. You stand. “It’s a good name for someone who actively enjoys watching the world burn.”

“To fuckin’ ashes.”

You just rolls your eyes at his confident tone, trying not to screech as he suddenly tips to the side. Just a little, just a teeny bit, but more than enough for him to almost rub the dried blood on his forehead into your cushions.

“Oh my god- where you raised in a barn?” You scramble to tip him back upright, careful to avoid his burns. “You’ve got somebody’s blood! All over your face! Don’t just lay down on my couch!”

“What the hell do you want me to do?” He grumbles tiredly, rubbing a bandaged hand down his face. “Not- ‘m not gettin’ up again.”

“Why?”

“Your stupid quirk fuckin’ zapped me, leech. Your fault, you fix it if there’s such a fuckin’ problem.”

“There is a problem!”

“Okay- so you fix it.”

“You’re- seriously?”

“Yep.”

“Oh my god, you’re irritating.” You sigh, muttering a swear under you’re breath.

Then you’re heading towards your kitchen, tossing the rags you’d already used aside, and grabbing new ones. These are just as soft, because you’re way nicer than deserves, and you run them under warm water. Because, once again, you are way more considerate and kind than he deserves.

You squeeze the excess water out, striding back over to him. You stop behind the back of the couch, gently guiding his head back until he’s looking up at you. In any other situation, you’d probably just tell him to take a shower, but now you can see Bakugou wasn’t kidding- he didn’t look like he was getting up any time soon. Not if he continued to be as boneless and pliant as he seemed at that moment.

When he nods at you insistently, you roll your eyes. You think it’s rich that he’s trying to speed along a process that he’s entirely uninvolved in.

“Jesus, did you have to get so much of it all over you?” You gripe, gently pressing the rag to his cheek. “What’d you do? Stab the guy?”

“No.” He mutters darkly, almost pouting. “And it was a woman. A stupid woman who I had to use my fists against! Bitch could repel my quirk.”

“Okay- well, let’s maybe not call women bitches please-“

“What’s the big deal? I call you a bitch all the time-“

“Yes! I know! That’s the problem!” You sigh, already knowing it was a lost cause. “But still- this is a lot of blood. You really didn’t have to bash her brains in like that.”

“Didn’t. Hit her once- in the nose. Not my fault she fuckin’ sprayed everywhere.”

“No- I’m pretty sure that’s exactly the definition of your fault.”

“Yeah. Whatever. Shut up, leech.”

Then he’s squinting his eyes, falling into silence. You almost want to talk again, but once the quiet settles you find that it’s nice.

He’s a lot calmer now, tilting his head slightly to accommodate wherever you were cleaning. Bakugou mostly keeps his eyes closed, only peeking them open occasionally. It’s a rare glimpse, and he’s careful only to look when you’re not, but you don’t need your quirk to tell what he’s feeling. There’s vulnerability there- the same type of surrender you’ve seen from so many patients before.

You wonder if that would anger or soothe him- the fact that, at his core, Bakugou wasn’t all that different from the people he saved.

“I see you opening your eyes.” You speak quietly, dabbing at a spot of blood near his hairline. “Not falling asleep this time?”

“Nope.”

“Really? Because your eyes are closed right now.”

“And?”

“Kinda makes it seem like you’re falling asleep.”

“I- ‘m not. Shut up.”

You just smile a little bit, wiping away the red staining his forehead. You try your best to be gentle, but a part of you doesn’t think it really matters all that much anymore. Bakugou seemed to be entirely relaxed, going soft and languid into the plush cushioning of your couch.

“You’re lucky I’m nice.” You say, running the rag over a particularly persistent spot of blood. “And that I’m not making you do this yourself.”

“Mhm.”

“That’s all you got? Nothing else to say?”

“Nope. Tired.”

“Go to sleep then. I won’t mind- nothing’s stopping you.”

“Nah.” He breathes out, eyes fluttering beneath his lids. Bakugou goes quiet, so quiet you nearly believe he’s actually fallen asleep, but then he’s clearing his throat, grumbling slightly. “‘s nice.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Shut up.”

“Fine. Fine, whatever you want. You know, since you seem to be pretty intent at making yourself at home here anyways.”

He smiles a little at that, but it’s soft and quickly fading. You think he looks like a different man in that moment- someone much softer and smaller than he really was.

“Stop.” He mumbles. “Stop complaining.”

“Says the man who uses his oxygen to bitch more than he breathes.”

“Oi-“ He peeks an eye open lazily, red eye focusing on you intently. “Watch it, leech.”

“What’re you gonna do? Bleed all over my apartment again- oh, wait.” You joke softly, moving your rag so just the tips of it brushing over his closed eyelids. The way his eyes flutter at that makes you smile. “You already did that, didn’t you?”

“That’s fuckin’ it.”

“What is?”

“Say your prayers.” He threatens vaguely, voice hardly more than a grumble. “You’re dead when I wake up.”

“Meet me at 3 PM in the school parking lot?”

Bakugou cracks another small smile at that, but then he’s smoothing it out. Just as he always does. “Show up late ‘n I’m killing you twice.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. You know where I live, right?”

“Damn straight, woman.”

“Not gonna add shitty in front of that?” You laugh indulgently, swiping the rag near his ear. “Usually that’s your tagline.”

“Nah. Not bein’ that shitty- right now. Still too nice though.”

“Hey, everyone is too nice compared to you- I really don’t think you’re a fair judge.”

“I am.”

“Because you say so, right?”

“Yep. Kill ya if you disagree, so watch your mouth.”

“Colorful threat. I’d almost be scared if you didn’t slur your way through the entirety of it.” You smile, dabbing away the last bit of blood and soot on his cheek. “All done now- so go to sleep. Stop fighting it.”

Bakugou nods. He’s still, much more still than you’ve ever seen him, but there’s still fight in him. He seems determined not to let sleep catch up with him, rubbing loosely at his eyes with a fist; blinking away the bleariness as he regards you once more.

“Thanks.” Is all he mumbles, before closing his eyes, falling back entirely boneless once more.

You’re shocked- rooted where you stand just few inches above him.

“Did- did you just-“

“Say anythin’ and it won’t happen again.”

His tone is a little harsh, but the sleepy grin stretched across his face betrays him. Helps you see through the name calling for what it really is: childish mischief.

You think that’s rather fitting. The Bakugou you’d come to know was rather juvenile, after all.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, I’m a bloodsucking parasite. You gotta come up with new material, man.” You flick his forehead lightly. He has almost no reaction, doesn’t even flinch when you make contact. “Alright, now go to sleep. Because, and I mean this with full offense, Bakugou- you look like shit.”

You wonder if you’re toeing the line, playing with dangerous fire, but Bakugou just grins again. A tired, lazy, unbidden thing, that licks rolling warmth at the heels of his next words.

“Only look like shit because I keep associatin’ with you. Rollin’ in it at this point.”

“That’s- Hey!” You sputter, indignant as he peeks an eye open. “Don’t be rude!”

“Kiddin’, leech.”

“You better be.”

“Mhm. Now go away. I’m fuckin’ tired.”

When he tips sideways again, you let him. Bakugou’s still in the bottom half of his hero costume, sure, but he’s not disturbing the bandages on his ribs. There’s no more blood either, so you count it as a win. It takes all over seconds before he’s out, and you wonder just how long he’d been fighting it. Why he’d even do such a thing in the first place.

There’s still something biting at you though- a bit of that cold he’d left you with earlier. Something sympathetic in you aches, and your fingers itch in your gloves. Almost without thinking, you grab the blanket for him. Bakugou hardly reacts when you tuck the cloth around his shoulders, just barely flutters his eyes and snuffles a bit. He pulls his limb in a bit, nestling into the couch and mumbling something you can’t hear.

A part of you knows it pointless, but still, you hope whatever he’s dreaming about is warm.

 --/--

sorry about the wait y’all!! had exams n felt a bit burnt out :// 

all good now tho!! refreshed n excited haha,, i hope u all enjoyed!!

taglist:  @fluffyviciousbunny @definitelynottrin @imsuperawkward @i-need-air @ahbeautifulexistence @brennabooz @jazzylove @flattykawadoorusmilkbread @katsuki-bakubabe @sorrythatspussynal @bakugouswh0r3 @cloudsgathering @un-limit-edd @thekatsukisimp @pollayra21 @the2ndl @officialtrashbusiness @waffleareniceandfluffy @monempathieetmoi @koiwoshinai @christianagrace9  @the2ndl @the-shota-king-masayuki @shy-panda02 @devastyle @shoto-supremacy00

[insomni-snacc]

Rest in Peace

Self indulgent warm-up with a female presenting reader.

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“Hey, I have a kind of stupid question.”

“And I have a stupid answer.”

You rolled your eyes at your undead companion, digging an elbow into his side. “I’m serious! I know I should have asked sooner but, since you’ve been living here for a few months, do you need a bed or... coffin or something to sleep on?”

“Your tits would do nicely~.”

“Beetlejuice!”

“What? I said I had a stupid answer! But, for real, I don’t sleep. I’m a demon, sweet cheeks, or did you forget?” He flashed his fangs to emphasize his point. You tried very hard not to stare.

You stared anyway, swallowing hard. “Uh... uhm I mean, of course I know that! I just... didn’t know what you did all night while I was asleep.”

“What, ya think I can’t survive eight hours without you?”

“You literally exploded the last time I left the house for an hour.”

Beetlejuice bristled, still bearing his fangs, though the playful tone was diminishing as he grew more defensive. “I got bored!”

“So, how do you keep from getting bored all night? Why don’t I wake up to a destroyed kitchen every morning?” You questioned, feeling bold. Your feet carried you forward until you were eye to eye with the demon, standing slightly on your tiptoes to reach eye level. “Or are you too embarrassed to admit it?”

His hair began to turn a light pink at your query. Bingo.

“I’m not!”

“Oh yeah? Then what do you do all night? Do you steal my laptop and look up depraved porn? Do you rifle through my panties? You can’t leave the building, so I know you’re not going anywhere.”

“Hey! I don’t... I don’t do any of those things!” His voice lowered, adding the last comment in a soft grumble, “most of the time.”

“Then what is it?” You challenged him again.

He faltered. The magenta in his hair flooded into his beard, and the little green spots covering his face, and if you looked lower (which you usually did) you’d have seen the same pink tones blooming in his chest hair.

You recoiled, feeling a bit bad for pressing him too hard. Your tone softened, noticing how distressed he was getting. Poking fun at your favorite demon was one of your favorite pass times, but you didn’t want to take it too far. “C’mon, Beetle, it can’t be that bad. I promise I won’t judge. Just indulge my curiosity, ok?”

“I uh... Iwatchyousleep!” It was more of an exclamation than a confession.

You had to take a moment to translate before recognition dawned on you, giggling slightly.

“Fuck you, don’t laugh at me!” The magenta deepened, turning slightly red at the tips.

“No, no, I’m not laughing at you!” You reassured him. “I just thought it was going to be so much worse.” Almost instinctually, your hand came to rest on his shoulder, your thumb rubbing soothing circles into his skin. “So that’s all? You don’t even draw dicks on my face in some kind of magic ink I can’t see, so you can laugh at me all day?”

“No!” he defended, but a thoughtful look passed over him. “Though, that is a good idea...”

“Beelte...” you warned.

He laughed, his hair betraying the odd mix of emotions swirling around inside of his gut; pink, yellow, and emerald green. “I know, I know. But no, I just,” he paused, looking away from you. “I like listening to you breathe.”

Now, it was your turn to be embarrassed. You felt your face heating up. The floor suddenly became the most interesting thing in the room to you, your gaze fixed on it as you said, “Oh, is that so? That’s kind of...”

“Weird, I know. Sorry. Won’t happen again.”

“No!” You shouted a bit too loudly for your liking. “It’s,” you searched for the right word, hoping not to give yourself away too quickly. Your hand dropped from its place on his shoulder. It was no secret that you had feelings for him. Well, no secret to anyone but him. “It’s sweet.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

And your conversation died a horrible death.

“So...” Beetlejuice pondered, cutting through the awkward silence that had grown between you two. “You don’t mind if I...?”

“Not at all!” You said too quickly. Smooth move. You coughed to dispel the uncomfortable feeling of your heart leaping into your throat. “But, I mean, where are you when you do this, usually?”

He ran a hand through his hair, which had finally decided upon a solid, bright pink. “I just sit at the foot of your bed,” he admitted with some difficulty.

You weren’t sure if you should offer, but you couldn’t help yourself. You had spent so many nights wishing for it, and here he’d presented you with the perfect opportunity. “Why don’t you just... lay next to me?”

If he wasn’t so tense, his jaw might have fallen to the floor. “You’d let me do that?”

Of course, you would. You just hoped you could control yourself if he did decide to take you up on your offer. “Y-yeah, why not? My room gets too hot, anyway.”

He couldn’t believe it. Was this a joke? Had someone in the Netherworld royally screwed up the paperwork and sent him to Heaven? “You uh... that implies... you wanna cuddle, too?”

Gosh, that floor was just so damn interesting. “D-did I say that?”

“Kinda? I mean,” he really didn’t want to push his luck, but you had all but implied you wanted him pressed up against you at night. How else was he going to help you cool down? “I wouldn’t mind, if you wanted to.”

“Uh, sure. We could do that.” Your eyes were going to burn two lovely new holes into the floor if this conversation continued. You thanked every deity you could think of that you didn’t have tell-all mood ring hair, like your new bedmate did. “Anyway, I’m gonna go get groceries.” You didn’t need groceries.

“Yeah!” It was almost a squeak. “Can you get those spicy crickets again?” There were already six bags of them in the pantry. You both knew this.

“Yeah, for sure.” You weren’t going to get any more crickets. You were probably just going to sit in your car for an hour.

“Cool.” He said.

“Cool.” You sighed in relief, sidestepping past him to head out the door. “I’ll... I’ll see you tonight.”

“Definitely! I’ll be there.”

This was gonna be a long day, and an even longer night.

[tradgicworks]

Heartfelt P-3 Deeper Still

Anna, Eva and Gwyneth are trapped in a mysterious bunker, what's worse is that something might be waiting for them in the dark. WORD COUNT - 5870

Anna woke up to a painfully sore back. Bruises were beginning to form because of Caroline’s beating and the long fall. Unnaturally cold air snaked through Anna’s entire body. Anna sat up as best as she could. She searched for her phone and turned on its light. The pitch black abyss that surrounded her burned into an desolate concrete hallway. Behind her a mountain of shattered debris formed a wall. Broken and dated lights hung from the ceiling by their bare wires. A battered direction plaque leaned against one of the walls, the text long since scraped away by weathering and rust.

Anna slowly got up onto her feet. She took deep shaky breaths as she struggled to move her aching body down the hallway. She eventually found herself at a two way split. To her left was another hallway blocked by rubble. A broken window stood in place of a wall in front of her. She peered over the edge. An abandoned cafeteria stood on a lower floor, bits of shattered glass scattered directly underneath her. Decay ridden plates laid on top of the old tables. Torn apart scraps of clothing and long since forgotten accessories littered the entire room.

“Anna?!” Eva’s voice called out from below.

Anna flashed her light forward and discovered a disgruntled looking Eva crouching over a small pile of scavenged valuables.

“Eva! Are you okay?” Anna asked.

“My butt hurts from the fall, but yeah I’m good,” Eva responded. “What are you doing up there?”

“What are you doing?” Anna gestured to the pile of valuables.

“What?” Eva glanced at the pile. “It’s not like they’re being used.”

“You don’t know who that stuff belongs to-” Anna frowned.

“Goldilocks, don’t be an idiot,” Eva gestured to their desolate surroundings. “Also, I was looking for something useful. Something like this.”

Eva grabbed a lighter from the pile. Its tiny flame sparked to life and barely illuminated her face.

“I was going to use it as a light, but now I got you. Come down here, there should be some stairs to your left- wait crap uh- my left your right,” Eva said before continuing to scavenge through the cafeteria.

Anna turned to her right to find a crumbling set of stairs. She carefully made her way down to the cafeteria and met up with Eva.

Eva’s hoodie was partially torn up. Her hair was unkempt and covered with dirt. Scratch marks and tiny cuts decorated her legs. She brushed off some dust of her skirt and stood up as Anna approached her.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Anna asked as she looked Eva over.

“You don’t look too hot yourself either, Goldilocks, but yeah I’ll live,” Eva responded.

“Good. Do you have any idea where we are?” Anna looked at their surroundings.

“Nope. Hella spooky though, and freezing. Honestly, this whole place just gives me the creeps. But panicking is the last thing we want to do right now,” Eva said as she pocketed the lighter.

“We need to find Gwyneth and get out of here.” Anna said firmly.

“Poor thing is probably bawling her eyes out right now,” Eva commented before turning towards the broken window. “Anything up there?”

“No, just a bunch of dead-ends,” Anna answered.

“Well, I came from over there,” Eva pointed at an offshoot to the left of the cafeteria. “I think- hard to tell in the darkness- which leaves our only option…”

Eva turned and pointed into the hallway in front of them. A plaque limply hung from a single bolt on top of the archway. It read “Living Quarters”.

“...god dammit,” Eva shuddered.

“Maybe we’ll find someone who can help us,” Anna started walking down the hallway.

“This place looks like it's been abandoned for years, Anna. Anything that was once alive in here has probably been dead for a very, very, long time,” Eva followed suit to try to stay near the light. “Though I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse.”

“We don’t have anywhere else to go and Gwyneth needs our help so we need to hurry up. Maybe you can spin kick a ghost’s head off, if one shows up,” Anna turned back towards Eva with a slightly mischievous smile.

“You are some sort of messed up if you think that’s funny,” Eva huffed.

Anna replied with a drawn out giggle before looking forward again.

“...screw you,” Eva muttered.

After walking for a few moments, they found themselves at a destroyed entryway. Deep jagged cuts tore through the concrete. A thick rusting door laid torn in half by their feet. Dark stains splattered all throughout the floor.

"What the hell happened here?" Eva asked slowly as she surveyed the wreckage.

"Something tore the door open…" Anna replied.

"No, dur. What the hell that 'something' is the question… Could have been a forklift," Eva crouched down to inspect the door.

"I don't think a forklift can split a door in half," Anna looked at her with disillusionment.

"Yeah, but I'd rather be worried about machinery gone rogue than some giant mutant abomination that can cut through us like butter," Eva stood up, forcing herself to smile. "Y'know, I'm being optimistic."

"Don't be paranoid, you said it yourself whatever was down here has long since been-" Anna walked through the door.

Rows of mangled bunk beds were thrown all throughout the room. The shredded innards of mattresses coated the floor. Several skeletons wearing tattered clothes laid against the destruction. One slumped a few feet in front of Anna, it's head missing.

"-dead," Anna barely managed to get the words out.

Eva shrieked with uncharacteristic squeamishness. She crouched away from the room and clutched herself tightly.

"They're dead! What the hell happened here!? What is this place?!" Eva yelled out.

Anna ran up to her.

"Calm down, Eva!" Anna grabbed her shoulders.

"Calm down?! How the hell are you calm right now?! Something broke into this place and killed everyone, that thing could still be alive, we could be slaughtered at any minute. What even is this place anyways? Why is it under a private all girls school of all places? I HAVE NO IDEA HOW YOU'RE CALM RIGHT NOW," Eva yelled at her face.

"Because someone has to be, we can’t afford to panic, remember?" Anna said sternly. "I'm scared too, but we need to get out of here. All of us."

Eva looked up at Anna. Anna's breaths were controlled but shaky. Her eyes were determined but fear lingered in her face. Eva noticed her faint scar. This wasn't the first time Anna was this scared. Eva's breathing steadied.

"You're right. Just give me a couple minutes to calm down," Eva said as she closed her eyes.

"We don't have a couple minutes. Gwyneth could be a danger," Anna said in a soft tone.

"Yeah, yeah! I know!" Eva held out her hand, her eyes still shut. "Lead me to the other side, I'm not good with death and stuff."

"Okay," Anna grabbed her hand and stood up. "You know you can be cute sometimes."

"Keep talking and I'll crush your hand, Goldilocks," Eva growled, her eyes still shut.

Anna and Eva slowly traversed the destroyed room. Anna led Eva through the clutter of bone, forgotten items, and broken scrap. Eva meekly followed Anna’s steps, shuddering ever so slightly everytime she thought that she brushed against a skeleton. Eventually, they made it to the other side only to find another dead-end.

"So much suspense for nothing," Eva grumbled as she opened her eyes again.

"Come on, we must have missed something," Anna said as she turned around.

"No, we didn't. The only thing that we haven't explored is all the blocked hallways."

"Then we better start digging," Anna said matter of factly.

"That would literally take forever," Eva protested.

"Better than being stuck here forever-" Anna started before being interrupted.

"Help." Gwyneth's faint voice called out from underneath them.

Anna and Eva searched around them before noticing a garbage chute partially covered by the rubble.

"Come on!" Anna gestured as she propped her phone on the rubble and started pulling rocks out of the way.

"Dammit and here I thought we could avoid digging," Eva groaned before catching up and helping Anna at a much faster pace.

"Gwyneth, can you hear us?!" Anna yelled down the chute once they cleared it.

"Help." Gwyneth's trembling voice replied.

"Stay put! We're going down to get you!" Anna yelled before grabbing her phone and climbing into the chute.

"Ugh, more crap to wash off. Great," Eva groaned as she got into the chute herself.

The two slid down the grimy chute and fell into a massive dump. Trash bags full of maggots and rotting junk made the entirety of the floor. The stench of filth mixed with the frigid air to create an overwhelming air of dread. Identical chutes lined the walls like holes that stretched into the unknown. Most were out of reach and the rest clogged by piled on garbage. Anna flashed her light throughout the room. Dark splotches of mold splattered against the walls. A slick coating of putrid violet flesh squirmed as the light washed over it. Cysts full of an unknown fluid sparked to life, lighting the room with an otherworldly purple glow. Strange human sized cocoons, about 17 in total, hung from the ceiling. They wriggled ever so slightly.

"W-What is this?" Eva whimpered.

"We need to get out of here!" Anna yelled.

"Help. Please." Gwyneth's voice called out before they could do anything.

"God dammit," Eva said with a shaky voice as she ran towards Gwyneth's voice.

"Gwyneth, we’re coming!" Anna said as she followed Eva.

"Lets quickly grab her and get out of this hell hole!" Eva climbed over a mound of trash, her feet pushing against several half empty bottles of alcohol.

A few feet in front of Eva sat Gwyneth curled up into a ball. Strange and incredibly faint cuts swirled their way up the entirety of her body. Her uniform was barely held together by tatters. Blood poured from her temple onto the trash below.

"Anna, I found her. She's in really bad shape!" Eva yelled as she kneeled next to Gwyneth.

Anna soon caught up and went to her side as well. The two of them propped Gwyneth on their shoulders and began to carry her.

"How do we get out? We can't carry her back up the chute," Anna said as they began to slowly walk forward.

"Look for an exit, there has to be one somewhere," Eva replied.

"Door." Gwyneth limply pointed at the wall opposite to them.

An old, nearly rusted over door labeled “Maintenance” stood in the middle of the wall. Anna and Eva nodded to each other before moving towards the door. The flesh on the walls began to writhe uncontrollably as it crept closer and closer towards them. One of the cocoons shook violently as something tried to force its way out.

"We need to hurry," Anna said as she picked up her pace.

"I'm trying but deadweight over here ain't exactly helping. Soft my ass, she's heavy as all hell-" Eva complained.

"GET AWAY FROM IT!" Gwyneth's voice boomed from above them.

Anna looked up at the ceiling. Gwyneth hung upside down from the cocoon that shook violently. She took heavy exhausted breaths. Her face was horrified.

"Wait, who the hell is this then?-" Eva turned to face the Gwyneth they were carrying only to get thrown across the room.

"EVA!" Anna yelled as Eva smashed against a pile of trash bags and rolled onto the floor.

Anna quickly moved away from the fake Gwyneth and grabbed a broken iron pipe from the junk. She turned around and swung hard against the fake Gwyneth's temple. The pipe snapped into two pieces as it collided against the fake Gwyneth, seemingly unharmed. Anna clutched her aching palms that hurt from the recoil of the blow. The fake Gwyneth tilted it's head to the one side.

"Help. You." It said slowly in a deep breathy voice.

The fake Gwyneth began to twitch violently. The cuts throughout its body burst open. The sound of cracking bones echoed out of it as it began to shift it's form. It's body twisted and unraveled from Gwyneth's skin to putrid purple muscles. It's limbs crunched as they elongated to their original length. Rows of fang like bones stabbed through it's slimy skin and formed a light suit of armor. It's hair melted into three squishy points that resembled a jester's hat. It's face hollowed into a mouthless, nose-less, and eyeless mask- deep indentations sitting where the eyes should be. Tendrils slithered through the cracks in its body and finished shifting everything into its place. A pitch black orb rolled out of it's stomach and up into a cavity in its chest. A slab of bony ribs slid over it as it clicked into place. The Jester hunched over Anna, it's hideous form towering several feet above her.

Anna stood scared stiff at the transformation that occurred in front of her.

"Anna!" Gwyneth yelled as the Jester raised it's arm and large claws shot out of it.

Anna's face hardened as she snapped back to life. She narrowly ducked out of the way as the claws cleaved through the concrete effortlessly. Anna hopped back onto her feet and threw her broken pipe at the Jester’s head. It bounced off it doing no harm.

"Just run! You can’t hurt that thing!" Gwyneth yelled from above.

The Jester let out a raspy howl and turned towards Anna. Anna narrowly sidestepped the tendrils that shot out of its body and past her. Before she could react, it yanked itself towards her with blinding speed and pinned her against the ground. Anna struggled in vain as the Jester’s face cracked open and numerous tendrils poured out of it.

"Save. You." It gargled out as the tendrils began wrapping around Anna's body.

Anna's breaths quickened to panicked pants as her body became harder and harder to move. She took one last shaky breath as everything around her was plunged into darkness. Anna shivered as she felt herself get wrapped in a cold, damp cocoon.

"...help me….save me," Anna heard very faintly in the back of her head.

Anna gasped in a heavy breath of air as the tendrils suddenly shriveled up around her. She looked up to see the Jester engulfed in flames. Shards of a broken liquor bottle were stuck to its face. Anna rolled out of the way and got back onto her feet.

"Now we're even, Anna," Eva yelled through gritted teeth from the top of a pile of garbage, a lit Molotov cocktail in hand.

The Jester howled in pain as the fire ate at its boney flesh.

"Shut it you ugly crone," Eva screamed as she threw another Molotov against its body.

Anna ran towards Gwyneth.

"Gwyneth, drop down I’ll catch you!" She shouted at her.

"The drop is too long, I don’t think I can-" Gwyneth said nervously.

"Don't worry, I'll catch you," Anna said firmly.

"O-okay" Gwyneth whimpered.

Gwyneth shut her eyes as she pushed against the cocoon. She shrieked loudly as she fell from the ceiling. Anna braced herself and caught her as she fell, sending the two of them onto the floor.

"You okay?" Anna grunted.

"I'm okay," Gwyneth replied slowly.

"Glad you're both safe," Eva said quickly as she ran up to them. "But on your feet, I'm out of junkyard moonshine to light on fire.".

Eva helped Anna and Gwyneth onto their feet and the three of them ran towards the door. Anna rammed it open and the three found themselves at yet another dead end.

"What a sadistic piece of crap, it wanted to lead us to a dead end to kill us!" Eva exclaimed.

"Not exactly," Anna pointed to an exposed air vent on the ceiling.

"Finally, somewhere I can get to easily" Eva said as she ran up to the vent and jumped upwards.

Eva grabbed the ends of the vent and pulled herself up.

"Your turn, Gwyneth," Eva held her hand out.

"Come on we have to hurry," Anna said as she kneeled under the vent and held her hands ready to boost Gwyneth up. "Hop on".

Gwyneth shakingly stood on Anna's hands. Together the two of them managed to pull Gwyneth up into the vent.

"Goldilocks!" Eva exclaimed as she stuck her hand out.

Anna was about to jump when the door burst completely off its hinges. The Jester forced its way in. The melted flesh on its face slowly squirmed back into place. Two tendrils shot past Anna and into the rubble behind her.

Anna threw herself prone onto the floor. The Jester pounced above her into the rubble behind her.

“That won’t work on me twice,” Anna said with a determined glare.

She jumped and caught Eva’s hand. An echoing roar coursed up to them as she climbed into the air ducts.

“SAVE. YOU.” It roared as its alcohol drenched tendrils stabbed into the air ducts.

“God damn persistent piece of-” Eva grunted as she sparked her lighter to life.

She quickly crushed it against the duct. The lighter fluid ignited into a weak flame, but it was enough to reignite the alcohol and cause the tendrils to retreat in howling pain. The three of them began crawling through the air ducts as fast as they could. Eventually they found themselves at an old vent cover.

“Well, without that lighter we can't defend ourselves. Let’s hurry and get the hell out of here,” Eva huffed with adrenaline as she kicked open the vent cover.

“We must be closer to the surface by now. Hopefully we can find out from here,” Anna said as she hopped out of the air ducts.

“Y-Yeah…” Gwyneth said quietly as she hopped out as well.

“What’s wrong?” Anna asked with a tender gaze.

“I’m cold,” Gwyneth shivered.

Her clothes were soaked in a mysterious fluid that was frigid to the touch.

“Jesus, that thing really did a number on you huh?” Eva said as she took off her hoodie.

It was cheaply made and several sizes too big. The large gash tore through one of the pockets, making it so that it barely hung onto the hoodie.

“Wear it, warm up. It’s not much but the last thing I want is to be dragging around a corpse,” Eva tossed it towards Gwyneth.

“Thank you…” Gwyneth looked at it for a few seconds before putting it on.

The three of them surveyed their surroundings and found themselves in a nearly empty room. A large vault gate took the place of the wall farthest to them. Eight massive deadbolts lined each side of it, locking the gate more than securely in place. A small cubicle hugged the corner of one of the rooms.

“I think this is our way out,” Gwyneth said as she walked into the cubicle.

It was a cramped thing with barely enough room for the chair and computer that sat in it. The computer was incredibly dated. It had an LCD display and a clunky keyboard that was covered in a thick layer of dust. Latched onto the wall was a broken in half shotgun. Gwyneth sat down and turned the computer on, its screen hummed to life.

“What are you doing?” Eva raised a brow as Gwyneth began clicking away.

“Seeing if there is anything useful on this thing,” Gwyneth squinted as she wrote command after command.

“So... are you like hacking it?” Eva said with a tinge of meekness.

“No, I don’t know how to do that. But I have some friends that love computers and they taught me how to use old operating systems like this one. They also taught me how to fiddle with radio signals, that's how I was able to mess with Warden 06’s radio before,” Gwyneth’s voice turned slightly somber. “They taught me that stuff just to annoy me, but who could have known that it would turn out to be useful…”

“You’ll see your friends again and once we regain our strength we’ll save Sophie too,” Anna said in a comforting tone.

“Yeah… Thanks, Anna,” Gwyneth said before continuing to tap away at the keyboard.

Eva stared at the two in silence. She averted her gaze, guilt washing over her face.

“Okay, okay!” Gwyneth’s face lit up as she finished typing. “I think I can unlock the gate”.

“That’s amazing to hear,” Anna sighed in relief.

“Okay, if I run this…” Gwyneth tapped a few times.

The sound of screeching metal echoed through the room as the deadlocks creaked out of view. A guttural roar emitted out the last one as it suddenly stopped.

“One of them jammed,” Gwyneth frowned. “I can’t open the gate without all of them being unlocked.”

“It’s almost all the way in,” Eva grabbed the stock end of the shotgun. “A little elbow grease should do it. Come help, Goldilocks”.

“Sure,” Anna said as she followed Eva to the stuck deadbolt.

“Here, whack it,” Eva handed the shotgun half to Anna.

Anna grabbed it and focused. She smashed the stock against the bolt causing it to inch slightly. She took a deep breath and smashed it again. With every bash the bolt moved closer and closer to being unlocked.

“My turn,” Eva held out her hand once Anna had exhausted herself.

Anna handed her the shotgun and Eva smashed the deadbolt with a hearty thud. The deadbolt lurched forward, a mere inch from being unlocked. Eva grit her teeth and rammed it as hard as she could. The shotgun split into broken parts as the deadbolt fell into place.

“Doors unlocked, hurry up and open it!” Eva yelled towards Gwyneth and then turned around.

Gwyneth stood in front of them with a furious face. She clenched the barrel end of the shotgun tightly with one hand, on the other she held an ID.

“What’s wrong?” Anna asked as she noticed Gwyneth’s erratic breathing.

“What is this doing in your hoodie’s pocket, Eva?” Gwyneth held out an ID.

The image of Sophie’s lint covered ID barely peered through the darkness. Anna turned towards Eva in shock. Eva simply stood with her fists clenched.

“Why do you have this?! Did you do something to Sophie?” Gwyneth stomped closer towards the two of them.

Eva remained silent.

“Answer me!” Gwyneth yelled.

Eva clenched her fists until her knuckles went white.

“I knew your name sounded familiar, you’re that Eva. The Eva that blackmails and harasses students until their lives are ruined. The Eva that every freshman is told to stay far away from. The two faced, spineless, worthless piece of human filth, Eva Moore!” Gwyneth howled at the top of her lungs

“Shut the hell up you effing brat, you have no idea what you’re talking about,” Eva roared back.

“I know exactly what I’m talking about. You’re the reason why Sophie is always so depressed. You’re the reason that everyone avoids her. It's because of you that she’s in this place. It’s because of you that we’re in this mess in the first place. All because you’re a bully that can’t live without terrorizing others.” Gwyneth’s eyes began to water as her words quickened.

“It’s not my fault her dumbass got captured by that thing. Yet, here I am forced to crawl through this murder den and deal with you- a pathetic weak child- so that Sophie can go back to being pampered by her psychopath parents. Y’know what, I’m glad she’s in this mess. All I did was give her what she deserved,” Eva said coldly.

Anna looked at her with disbelief. Gwyneth’s mouth gaped open in shock. Her breaths quickened as she sprinted forward.

“You monster!” Gwyneth yelled at the top of her lungs while swinging the broken shotgun at her face.

Before Eva could react Anna stood in between the two and grabbed the shotgun.

“Anna?!” Gwyneth and Eva said in unison.

“Enough, both of you! Fighting now isn’t going to get us out of here, it isn’t going to save Sophie either,” Anna glanced between the two of them. “While we spend time arguing, that thing is catching up to us. We need to work together or else we will end up in cocoons like the others.”

“But-” Gwyneth started before stopping at the sight of Anna’s glare.

“Like hell I’m calming down, that brat called me an effing-” Eva stopped as Anna roared in a surprisingly loud voice.

“Eva you are smarter than this, stop wasting our time! What, are you trying to get yourself killed by that thing?!”

Eva and Gwyneth looked at her with anger and dejection respectively. After a few moments the two relaxed a little.

“Good, I’ll get the gate open and you too start making your way out,” Anna walked towards the computer. “We’ll talk about what you did to Sophie later, Eva.” Anna turned around and stared directly into Eva’s eyes.

“Whatever,” Eva spat as Anna walked away.

Anna looked at the computer screen.

“Press enter to continue”, a simple prompt read.

Anna pressed enter and the door began to churn to life. It slowly slid down into the floor, revealing stairs that led up to an exit. Anna’s head snapped towards the air duct as the sound of something shattering pierced through the concrete.

The Jester’s body poked halfway out of the air vent. Its neck split open and a tentacle shot out piercing the gate and stopping it from lowering further. Anna sprung out of the room and brandished the barrel of the shotgun. She smashed it against the tendril, causing it to unhook from the door and slightly bend the barrel. A massive crash roared out as the gate fell down. The Jester’s mouth gaped open and shot another tendril. Anna reacted in time and swung the barrel against it, causing the tendril to pierce into the ground behind her.

“Anna!” Gwyneth yelled as the gate finally lowered and allowed access to the stairs.

“Hurry up, Goldilocks!” Eva screamed.

Anna turned around and ran towards them. The sound of another part of the Jester’s body snapping open clicked behind her. Anna turned around to see two more tendrils shooting towards her. Anna narrowly stepped out of the way as they zoomed past her and towards Eva and Gwyneth. Eva managed to duck in time but Gwyneth yelped in pain as it grazed her side. The Jester began pulling itself out of the duct, its body contorting unnaturally to force its way through. Anna attacked the two tendrils, causing them to detach and erasing the progress that the Jester made.

“Just go, it’ll force its way out if I don't stop it!” Anna yelled at Eva and Gwyneth before turning back towards the Jester.

“No, we’re not leaving without you,” Gwyneth pleaded.

“Yeah, Anna. Hurry up, we can outrun that thing-” Eva said.

“JUST GO!” Anna hollered at them.

Eva stared at Anna as she held her bent, nearly broken, makeshift weapon in her hands ready to swing at any other tendrils that shot out. She noticed Anna’s firm stance, her calm and steady breaths. Anna glanced towards her with eyes filled with a furious determination.

“God dammit,” Eva muttered with a pained face before grabbing Gwyneth and dragging her up the stairs.

“What the hell are you doing?! We can’t leave her there on her own, we have to help her!” Gwyneth yelled in a panicky voice.

“We can’t help her if we’re dead, she said it herself we regain our strength and then we can save the day,” Eva grunted as she struggled to hold Gwyneth back.

“No, I’m not leaving her!” Gwyneth kicked and screamed as she tried to break free.

“We don’t have a choice!” Eva yelled into her ears.

The two slowly made their way up the stairs. Anna gave a relieved smile as she saw them approach the exit. She turned towards the Jester.

“I. Save. You.” It groaned as countless holes split out of its mouth.

“So you’ve said,” Anna braced herself. “Got anything new?”

Numerous tendrils shot out of its mangled body. Anna weaved in between them and deflected as many as she could. Pain surged through her body as the tendrils grazed her arms and legs. The shotgun’s barrel shattered to pieces as a tendril impaled through it. Anna fell onto the floor overwhelmed by the Jester's attacks. The wall crumbled into debris as the Jester yanked itself through. Its twisted and broken body stretched into a set of quadrupedal legs. More flesh burst out of its back and formed a makeshift torso. Flesh shifted into place as it carried the black orb to the center of its new chest. The tendrils retreated back to the main body, each carrying a chunk of concrete. They wrapped themselves into a set of arms. A massive cobbled together concrete lance reinforced with bone was wedged within the stringy flesh of one of them. A new head shaped itself at the top of the abomination of muscle and bone. The Jester turned grotesque Centaur howled with such ferocity that it shook the entire room.

“Save...” The Centaur stomped towards Anna as she tried to stand up and run, causing her to lose balance and fall back onto the ground.

“...you.” The Centaur cleaved the lance towards the gate and completely destroyed it.

Anna looked in fear as her only exit became nothing more than a pile of rubble. She turned to face the Centaur that towered above her.

“Take. You. Home.” It said slowly, its stomach opening up to an endless sea of tendrils.

Dread began to set into Anna. Her vision became slurred from the tears that began to well in her eyes as the tendrils inched towards her.

“I’m sorry, dad,” Anna whimpered as her hope vanished.

“Don’t be sorry yet...” Caroline’s voice rang from behind the rubble.

Two bright flashes of dark green light cut an X through the rubble, destroying it instantly. Caroline shot towards the Centaur brandishing two ethereal green sickles. She swung upwards at the Centaur. Its arms were cut clean off as the sickles effortlessly burned through its flesh. The lance shattered onto the floor as the Centaur tripped backwards in hollering pain. Pitch black smoke billowed out of its wounds.

Caroline stood in front of Anna. The green in her Warden’s uniform glowed the same shade as her sickles. Her coat fluttered in the air from how fast she moved. An emerald green crystal heart took the place of the sigil that was sat on her badge.

“...there’s still much more pain in store for you,” Caroline gave Anna a cold look before removing her coat and letting it fall to the floor.

The Centaur roared again as more tendrils shot out of its body and reformed its damaged arms. Bit of its chest became exposed, revealing the black orb.

“There you are,” Caroline rolled her shoulders before readying her sickles once more. “I hope you're a fighter.”

Caroline swung forward in an X pattern. The Centaur hopped backwards and avoided the attack. Chunks of concrete shot from the ground as it landed. It quickly grabbed them and threw them at Caroline with blinding speed. Caroline effortlessly avoided them and cut one chunk in half before it hit Anna. She pirouette forward and swung downwards with her right sickle. It hooked onto the Centaur's back causing it to yelp in pain. The Centaur swung its free arm towards her. Caroline cut through it, causing it to fall onto the floor as a lifeless stump. Before the Centaur could even scream in pain, she spun her free sickle and cleaved its chest wide open. The Centaur attempted to stomp on her legs in desperation. She hopped over its legs and pushed against its body. The sickle wedged in its back cut through its entire torso and hooked into the black orb as she did. She leaped off of its body, the black orb stuck to her sickle, and landed a few feet in front of the Centaur with her back towards it. The Centaur gave out a blood curdling battle cry as its body unraveled into a mess of coiled tendrils ready to spring towards Caroline.

“Hmm,” Caroline said as she hooked her other sickle into the orb. “Apparently not.”

Caroline turned around to see a wall of tendrils speeding towards her. She gave a sadistic grin as she pulled her two sickles apart cutting the orb in half. A ghastly wail echoed out of the Centaur as its tendrils fell limp. Its body began to dissolve into a dark violet smog.

“...save...me…” Anna heard faintly as the Centaur’s body dissipated into nothing.

Anna sat up as best as she could and looked at the remains of the orb. Its obsidian like form glistened with a faint light that rapidly snuffed into lifelessness. Anna looked up at Caroline through her pain and exhaustion.

"Sorrow neutralized," Caroline said into her radio. "Moving to extract the intruder."

“What are you?” Anna could barely manage to ask.

“The time for questions will come later. For now you and your friends have to go to pay for all the damage that you all have caused,” Caroline crouched low until she was face to face with Anna. “Welcome to a world of Sorrows, Miss Anna. I wonder if you’ll survive.”

A slight grin stretched across Caroline’s face as Anna’s vision faded to darkness.

…

Beatriz blew on her tea as she finished stirring it. She took a sip and stared peacefully at the sunny day that surrounded her. Her black hair had a few white strands and was tied into a braided bun. Her face was slightly wrinkled but her emerald green eyes burned with an eternal youth. She wore a uniform similar to Caroline's, but instead of having a gaudy coat she wore a simple scarf. A woman holding a folder approached Beatriz as she continued enjoying her tea.

"Lovely day is it not, dear," Beatriz smiled at the woman.

"Good morning, Mrs. Reine," The woman opened the folder and began reading from it. "An incident has occurred at Central Station, the chief is currently busy addressing issues in the D.E. Atham's academy and has requested your aid in alleviating the issue."

"Oh my, what could have occurred that would require my help?" Beatriz asked.

"Three intruders discovered the abandoned sections of the Central Station and unearthed a Sorrow nest. Two managed to escape to the surface before being captured by Caroline's team, the other was saved by Caroline herself."

"I see," Beatriz lowered her tea onto a small dish below her. "Why was the other saved by Caroline?"

"According to the mission report, it seems she stayed behind to stop the Sorrow from attacking her accomplices."

Beatriz looked up at the woman with a slight awe.

"What is her name?" Beatriz asked.

"Anna, Anna Hjarta," The woman replied.

"Anna…" Beatriz took one last sip from her tea. "What a pretty name".

[tablefourtwo]

just another player in your drinking games (r.t)

summary based on the song drinking games by silver sphere. she hated how easily richie could act like he didn’t care, she hated how he discarded all his feelings once he was sober again, she hated how she was just another player in his drinking games.

 warnings drinking, swearing

richie tozier was on her bed, buried in her blankets at three in the morning. if it was any other day, this would've made (Y/N)’s heart flutter, but she didn't have time to acknowledge her heart as she had to rush to the boys side every minute, trying to mend his broken heart. 

could it even be called a broken heart? jesus, they dated for what? two months? (Y/N) was positive that she would rather be anywhere else right now. obviously, she would never say this to his face. she couldn't help but feel anger rise in her body. she's been chasing the curly headed boy for literal years now and he settles for ashley-fuckin-martin?

she shuts her eyes for a moment, trying to cool down before having to comfort richie again. in his defence, at least he wasn't throwing a fit anymore, (Y/N) would be in deep shit if he woke her parents up.

(Y/N) stopped listening to what the boy was saying but through the words she managed to string together, most of them being curses, she knew she had to say something. “you know what?” she started, turning to lock eyes with tozier. cutting him off when he was going off about how he did something wrong. 

“fuck ashley, you didn't do shit, you don’t deserve this.” she hissed, “don’t beat yourself up over this. you- you don’t deserve this.” (Y/N) sighed, watching as richie’s tears slowly decreased.

“this sucks, really fucking bad, but you make it alright.” richie smiled softly, speaking in a voice just above a whisper. it was meant to be a friendly thank you, he would've done the same to eds or stanley. thats what (Y/N) told herself, but as he looked up at her, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose, she found it hard to think of a smart remark to make like she usually did.

“yeah, don’t worry about it, rich.” (Y/N) laughed, hoping that he wouldn't notice how her heart was beating a million miles a minute. 

fuck, she needed to stop getting attached to every little thing he says.

when (Y/N) offered to do anything to make richie feel better, she didn't think that attending a party was anything close to what he would suggest, this was alright though, she told herself. 

(Y/N) smiled, tozier was right. she watched as he laughed with his friends, red plastic cup in hand, to her, he was literally glowing. like he wasn’t just crying in her arms. why did she chase after him? why did she torture herself like this? every time she looked at him she was reminded of what she couldn't have. why did she waste so much time when she knew he wouldn't be hers?

as people started filling out of the house, (Y/N) had started to sober up. richie hadn't talked to her the whole party - except for their game of beer pong - so she didn't really have a reason to stay, but what else was there to do in derry?

“(Y/N)?” richie slurred, coughing into his sleeve, squinting behind his glasses. (Y/N) beamed as the boy slowly walked up to her. “what’re you still doing here?” he swallowed. 

“i was actually just talking to connor, you know, the one from bio? he said i have pretty eyes.” (Y/N) giggled, eyebrows raised. richie took a second to process what she had just said before contouring his face into one of disgust. “connor? ugh.” richie exclaimed, his tongue sticking out of his mouth as he pretended to gag.

(Y/N) thought it would be easier to just play along, laughing before an awkward silence washed over the both of them. “walk me home?” richie shrugged, “sure.” (Y/N) didn't miss how he carelessly agreed, how if there was a better option, she’d be thrown aside. he didn't care if she got home safe. no, of course he cared, as a friend.

(Y/N) had to slow down her usual fast paced steps to keep up with richie’s slow treading. sure, richie was drunk, but it didn't take a genius to realise that (Y/N) was staring at him. he felt as if she was burning holes into the side of his face. 

it wasn't like she could help it. once every few minutes, she’d find herself imposing all her attention onto richie. how the dim moonlight illuminated his face, how she had to dig her nails into her palms to keep herself from combing her fingers through his soft looking curls.

every time (Y/N) turned to look at richie, she hoped that he would look back at her. he never did. she had to hide her growing frown as the pair approached her house. 

(Y/N) stood on her porch so she was closer to eye level with richie now. she was thankful that he thought she was drunk so that she didn’t have to hide her blush like she usually did. 

“thanks again for tonight, (Y/N/N),” richie smiled, hiccuping. “and yesterday.” he mumbled. “it’s cool, just don’t almost punch my wall down again next time you come over.” she joked. 

the two continued to stare at each other for a while, richie, probably drunk out of his mind and not knowing what was going on–– but (Y/N)’s gaze was out of pure admiration. love.

when would be a better time to do this? kiss the boy, (Y/N)! the worse thing that could happen is he doesn't remember it. this is it, this is the only chance you’re gonna get. 

(Y/N)’s thoughts ran wild so to ease them she shut her eyes and leaned in. richie’s eyebrows knotted together and he didn't shut his eyes, when (Y/N) realised that she instantly pulled away. 

“we’re drunk.” he murmurs, very much sober now, trying to blink himself awake.

“yeah, yeah, no, duh.” (Y/N) starts blinking rapidly, tears quickly forming in her eyes.

richie nodded hesitantly, “(Y/N), are you alright?” he frowns, a string of curse words leaving his mouth as tears start running down her face.

“peachy, tozier. really, my parents are gonna kill me if they catch us out here, i’m gonna go.” (Y/N) laughs through the tears.

“once we’re sober, we should just— forget!” (Y/N) hears richie before opening the door to her house. it was probably meant to sound comforting and she lets out a genuine laugh at that.

(Y/N) hadn’t talked to richie in a week, this had been the longest the pair had gone without seeing each other so when her home phone rang she quickly picked up, instantly forgetting about the events that had occurred just a few days ago.

“(Y/N).” richie’s bright voice sounded in her ears.

“rich.” she smiled sadly, fiddling with the phone chord in her fingers.

“look (Y/N/N). i have to make this quick but- about what happened-” he stuttered.

“don’t worry about that, it was a mistake, i was- super drunk.” (Y/N) lied, she heard a sigh of relief.

“thank fuck, (Y/N). i was so scared that it would screw up our friendship.”

(Y/N) smiled, but she thought that if richie focused hard enough, he would be able to hear (Y/N)’s heart breaking through the phone.

“yeah.”

“i care but- it was a mistake.” richie laughed. (Y/N) hummed in response as she shut her eyes. tears flowing down her face now.

“Uh- ashley apologised and, and it was really real you know? it felt sincere and shit.”

(Y/N) lowered the phone from her face before letting out a laugh. she raised the phone back to her face and had to purse her lips so that he wouldn’t hear her sobs. “that’s good, Rich.”

“okay. well, i gotta go but hang soon, alright? and i can’t tell you about how happy i am that we’re still cool. you’re the best, (Y/N/N).”

[byeoltoyuki]

One more night ⇾  JJK

Pairing : You x Jungkook

Genre : Fluff / Light Angst / Smut / e2l (kind of)

Words : +12k

Summary : In which when Jimin told you to have fun, he didn’t exactly mean to bang his friend.

✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦✦

Someone once upon a time told you that opposites attract. You say bullcrap. It was just another way for people to justify their doings and probably their failures. It was what you truly believed for all those years. Except, eventually it came bite you in the ass.

You were in your last year of college, last year of hell and then you would be free. Your parents had told you that college would be the best years of your life, that you would meet amazing people (and you did, you couldn't deny that) and you would meet your significant other. That, however, you didn't. Not because nobody was interested in you but boys meant trouble and drama and you didn't need this kind of mess in your life.

Or so you thought. Until that night.

"What do you mean you slept with JungkookN" Hana half yelled at you, not caring at all that you were in the middle of the cafeteria and that somebody could hear you (you certainly didn't need the world to know that you, Y/N, the girl who clearly showed her disdain to fuck boys, had actually banged one of them). You hurried to clap your hand over Hana's mouth, shutting her up before her lousy mouth could get you in unnecessary trouble.

"Can you scream it even louder?" You complained, your eyes sending daggers, before you quickly added, "I don't need any more remarks on the matter." You let go of her and slumped back on your chair before slamming your head with a little too much strength against the table. "I'm screwed."

"Literally." You heard Hana mutter but she didn't make any more remarks, instead you felt her eyes on you, watching you silently. Hana had known you for over five years now, five long years and in those five years she had learnt a lot about your animosity to a certain type of people. Jungkook was definitely part of them. No matter how she looked at the situation, Hana couldn't comprehend what exactly had changed. "Ok, I really don't understand how it happened."

You shifted your head on the table to look at her, brows furrowed. "What do you mean you don't understand? He has a dick, I have a vagina. It happened."

"God. I didn't mean that." Hana groaned at your words, the image all too clear in her mind.

"Oh you didn't? Sorry." You, of course, didn't mean it at all and Hana was all too aware of that; she rolled her eyes at you.

"Sorry my ass." She mumbled before putting her elbows on the table and rested her head on top of her hands. "Ok. So, miss, tell me exactly what happened. We'll see if it's as bad as you think."

"Oh doc, no, the sex was amazing. Mind-blowing even. I mean, you know him, this stupid muscle-pig." You started rambling but cringed pretty much at your own words because it brought back the images from that night. No, you didn't need a reminder of how he sent you right to heaven.

"Wow ok. Too much information."

"You asked doc. I was just being honest with myself for once."

"If you liked it that much, what's the problem?"

"Are you seriously asking me that? Should I remind you that I hate this asshead's guts? He walks like he owns the place, use girls-"

"They know that and ask for it though." Hana interrupted you and smirked at your outraged expression.

"Not the point!"

"Oh please, go on."

You sighed dramatically and straightened yourself on your chair. "Oh, I forgot to add. Did I mention that he's one of Jimin's best friend?" Hana's eyes widened in shock. "Guess not."

"I mean, I knew they were friends but best friends?"

Speaking of the devil. You didn't have time to add anything else when your eyes landed on a group of friends that entered the cafeteria, noisy as ever, laughing their ass off and looking stupidly hot (but you wouldn't admit it out loud either). Of course, you and Hana weren't the only one to notice their presence, many heads had turned to look at them, whispering, squealing, commenting. You, however, bit on your lips and you tried your best to disappear and go unnoticed (especially by a certain boy going by the name of Jeon Jungkook). It almost worked. As they approached your table, it was highly impossible for you not to spare them a glance (maybe a part of you was afraid of what could happen if Jungkook recognized you), just to catch Jimin winking at you.

"Asshole." You mumbled to yourself while looking at him. He didn't hear you but he read on your lips (and maybe he knew you all too well to guess your reaction). Jimin chuckled to himself and just when they had reached your level, he discretely patted your head making you slap his hand away.

Hana put her hand over her mouth to muffle her giggles but it didn't work quite well - you glared angrily at her before huffing in annoyance and whispering a traitor.

"I will never get tired of watching you and Jimin bickering." She admitted

"He's an ass!" You whined in frustration. "You don't know what it likes to live with him!"

"Hmm, I would rather feel bad for Jimin. He's stuck with you."

You gasped in fake outrage, bringing your hand to your heart, feigning being hurt. Truth to be told, Jimin and you were just a bunch of weirdos that have been friends for too long to count. You have been together through thick and thin, and no matter how much insults you threw at him, both of you knew they meant nothing.

"Ehrm, I don't want to alarm you," Hana started, her face suddenly turning white, "But they're coming back." You sat up straight on your chair, your whole body tensing instantly, your breath hitched in your throat and you stared right at Hana. "Don't look back. Oh shit."

"What."

Hana didn't need to answer though. You heard chairs moving just behind you, someone apologized for bumping into your chairs (the voice sounded kind of familiar but your body felt numb and your brain stopped functioning properly).

"You left early." You recognized the voice this time, it belonged to Namjoon.

"I barely remember how I got home." Jungkook sighed. "I was wasted." But then he looked at Jimin. "I saw your friend. She's not that bad."

If you thought your body was tense before, now it was so much worse. You couldn't think straight, you couldn't breath, his voice echoing in your mind.

"Yeah?" Jimin said disinterested and yet you couldn't ignore his eyes boring holes into your back. You were in trouble.

"I saw you leaving with a girl though." Another one commented, laughing at the reminder. "She looked eager."

"Yeah. About that. I tried to remember with who I left but I can't remember at all." By the sound of his voice, you realized that Jungkook was genuinely upset about not remembering you, that being said you were relieved to know he didn't remember. "I only remember she had a tattoo on her right breast."

Jimin choked on his drink and started coughing madly. Namjoon, right away, patted his back to help him to calm down. All eyes were on him, some curious, some laughing. You, however, wanted to dig a hole and hide as far as possible. You were doomed.

"You're alright buddy?" Namjoon asked and gave another strong pat.

"Yeah, sorry. Got surprised."

Two minutes later you received a message from Jimin.

Jiminnie [1:05pm] : Meet me in 5 in the library.

Shit.

                                                           ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

"When I told you to have fun I didn't mean to bang one of my friends." Jimin deadpanned as soon as you joined him in the library. Jimin grabbed your arm and pulled you  between rows of shelves, hiding both of you from unwanted attention. He looked upset, frowning deeply at you.

Of course you knew Jimin was right but your own ego, and a bit of your embarrassment, made it impossible to admit it out-loud. So you only rolled your eyes at him and freed your arm from his grip. "No shit Sherlock."

Jimin completely disregarded your rudeness and instead started interrogating you. "I thought you hated him."

You chewed at your bottom lip, nervous and quite frustrated at the same time because yes, you thought you hated Jungkook (though the word hate seemed not quite appropriated, too strong even), and no you didn't exactly know how you ended in his bed (that was a lie, you knew exactly why but admitting it was out of question for your own sanity).

"What are you going to do now?" Jimin asked more calmly this time as he let go of your arm and just stared at you, concern, this time, written all over his face. "This is a mess, Y/N."

"I know. And I'm sorry, it just happened." You sighed in defeat. Suddenly, you felt extremely tired and your head throb signaling the beginning of a headache. "Hopefully, he won't remember about going home with me." You didn't want him to remember. You were scared. Despite the time you had spent with Jungkook at the party, you still didn't know him, therefore you didn't trust him. You didn't know how he would react if he ever found out. "It won't happen again."

But Jungkook made it hard for you.

                                                      ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

Three days later, your life went back to normal. No clouds, no storms on sight. And no Jeon Jungkook. You didn't talk about him, not to Hana and certainly not to Jimin, you had this mutual agreement that nobody should mention the party or Jungkook (and they didn't, too scared to face your wrath).

Everything went perfectly smoothly during those three days. No more parties, no more surprises. You were back on working on your project. But good things never lasted long in your life. The night you decided to go to the gym to blow off some steam, happened to be your worst decision ever. You didn't go to the gym as often as you used to, mainly because Jimin didn't want to go with you anymore (his excuse being you're too slow with what you highly disagreed every single time). But maybe you should have stayed at home.

To your dismay, Jeon Jungkook went to the same gym as you. You froze right on the spot as your eyes landed on him. What were the odds for both of you to go to the same gym? Or maybe, Jungkook had always been there but you never paid attention since you minded only your business. But tonight, seeing him working out in black sweatpants and a large black shirt, forced you to think back about that night. His muscles flexing as he lifted some heavy weight.

For fuck's sake. What does he think he's doing?!  

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, motivating yourself. You can do it. Forget about his presence. Easier said than done. Especially when Jungkook stopped his workout to have a break and drink some water. He wiped the sweat from his face (you gulped hard at the sight), rubbing his hair with a towel. You palmed your face in despair and you couldn't hold back the images from the night. You couldn't ignore how he had hoisted you up, ravishing your lips as you pulled at his hair, fighting him with all your strength for control. Needless to say that you were a goner. But if you thought thinking about that night was troublesome you were wrong - Jeon Jungkook was staring back at you, smirking.

Fuck my life.

                                                      ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

The second time you met Jungkook was at his dance practice. You stayed after class, studying in the library, working on a project (and just maybe it was an excuse to busy your mind with something other than Jeon Jungkook). The campus was almost empty except for some who stayed for their clubs activities. If you were a good friend, you would have listened to Jimin's blabbering and would have known that walking by the dance club was a really, really bad idea.

You froze on the spot, looking through the huge window, you saw Jungkook dancing in the room, music blasting. You were completely mesmerized with his dancing, his body moving in rhythm with the music. By the frown on his face, you saw him concentrated on his moves and yet, there was something else. Jungkook felt free and looked happy while dancing.

Another day, you would have ran away and cursed at your bad luck. But tonight was another day and instead of turning back and leaving, you peeked through the half-opened door. You simply stood there, your grip on the strap of your bag tightening.

When the music stopped, Jungkook fell on the floor, panting, sweating but a huge grin spread on his face. He looked satisfied with his work and you could agree with his feelings, he was a perfect (not like you were a pro yourself but it didn't stop you from admiring his work).

Jungkook turned his face and looked at you. At first, his face was blank, his eyes seeming a little bigger than usual but then his face broke into a smile and he changed his position, from laying on the floor to sitting, waving almost cutely at you.

"Do I look disgusting?"

-Flashback -

"Are you sure you can drink all of it by yourself?"

"Why? You think I can't handle my liquor?"

"Wouldn't know. I think it's the first time we're talking and that I don't feel like you're going to rip my balls off."

You actually laughed at that. You couldn't help it. "Here." You offered him the bottle, daring him to drink with you.

Jungkook's eyes darted back and forth between the bottle and your face. His initial plan wasn't exactly about drinking with you or talking but suddenly the perspective of getting to know you didn't seem that bad. He accepted the bottle and took a sip, wincing at the taste -you laughed at that and clapped your hands happily.

"Okay now I remember why I don't drink vodka." He handed you back the bottle

"Poor little thing." You cooed, mocking him openly, the alcohol made you brave and maybe a little bit stupid.

“Oh so you want to make fun of me huh. Go on.” Jungkook played your game. “But we’ll see who between us will get drunk first.”

“You.” Jungkook didn’t know yet who he was dealing with, if he knew, maybe he wouldn’t be so smug about the challenge. Jimin too once challenged you; you recognized that your friend could hold his liquor just fine and yet against you he lost. Jungkook, you believed, would too because he made the mistake to underestimate you (however you didn’t exclude the option that he could win too since you didn’t know his limits either).

“We’ll see that.”

“How nice of you to challenge me, Jungkook. It had been a very long time since I played this game with someone.”

Jungkook considered you for a moment, in utter silence, before finally cracking a smile and shaking his head in amusement. He didn’t expect you to be so tough and yet somehow fun to be around, it wasn’t exactly the image of you he had pictured for all this time. You didn’t seemed so intimidating sitting there and drinking with him.

“Am I still repulsive to you?”

You looked at him, eying him from head to toe. “Oh yeah. Absolutely disgusting.”

Jungkook would have been offended if not for your giggles that followed your statement. You couldn’t just hold back, especially not when he looked so puzzled with his big eyes at you. Jeon Jungkook didn’t seem so bad when he looked like that.

-Now-

"Yes. Absolutely disgusting."

                                                    ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

The third time you encountered Jungkook happened at your place. Jimin decided, without asking for your opinion (and you quote "You're bored anyway so let's have some fun yeah?"), to invite some of his closest friends which included of course Jungkook. You had groaned and promised him a very slow and painful death. Obviously, the threat didn't work on him. But you refused to make things easier for him. Instead of helping him to prepare the house for his improvised party, you watched the TV in an oversized hoodie and shorts, perfectly unbothered by Jimin's desperate glances (you believed one day he would try kill you in your sleep).

"What the hell?" You heard the now all too familiar voice echoing from the hall. You had been too immersed in the TV show to notice the bell ringing until it was too late. "Hold on." Jungkook pointed an accusing finger at you. "You said your roommate was cool"

"She is cool." Jimin defended your honor before quickly adding "Except for today, she had been all bitchy."

You nicely showed him a finger before smiling sweetly at his other friends. "Hi guys."

Jungkook's face stayed blank for a moment before he finally nodded and looked at you. "At least now I know who's your drinking buddy.

Namjoon and Jin exchanged a quick glance before shrugging and joining you. Namjoon sat beside you on the couch, quickly joined by Jin. Jungkook chose to sit on a chair just in front of you.

"Hey." Namjoon called you. "Isn't it Jimin's hoodie?"

You glanced down at the hoodie and shrugged as if it was nothing. It did happen occasionally, Jimin's oversized hoodies were just too comfortable for you not to steal from him. Jimin groaned at Namjoon's remark and playfully nudged your shoulder before sitting beside Jungkook.

"She's a hoodie-thief." Jimin approved

"Are you guys together?" Jungkook asked out of nowhere, eying both of you.

None of you answered right away, instead you looked at each other, incredulous. A part of you perfectly understood their confusion but you couldn't help but find it hilarious too. Apparently Jimin did too because he burst into laughter and slapped Jungkook's arm.

"Hell no. She's a dude."

"Ha." You scoffed. "I don't consider him as a man."

"Rude."

And somehow the little bickering between Jimin and you put all of them at ease.

"Beer?" You suggested, a smile on your face as you exchanged a quick glance with Jimin.

You escaped to the kitchen, leaving them time to settle and talk. You guessed that the night would be all about playing games and drinking. You promised not to play with them but you couldn't say no to alcohol.

"Need some help?" Jungkook's voice startled you.

"Bloody hell!" You half-yelled, your hand on your heart, you didn't hear him following you. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"No?" But when you looked at him, he was smiling sheepishly at you. "Sorry."

Jungkook stayed at the door, leaning against it as he stared at you with his arms crossed over his chest, looking effortlessly handsome. The sight of him stirred something inside you. You tried hard not to stare (not too much at least) but your eyes wandered, from his face, to his chest, to his arms. God, Y/N. You're losing your shit.

"Take a photo, lasts longer." Jungkook interrupted (rudely) your staring.

You fight back a blush, there was no way you let him know how confused he made you feel. Instead, you shrugged. "You know what? Sounds like a good idea. Except my phone is in my room."

"Are you flirting with me, Y/N?"

"You wish."

"No? Because it sounded like an invitation."

You rolled your eyes at him and decided ignoring him was the best thing to do. You took the bottles of beer from the fridge and prepared the plate to bring to others. You almost managed to ignore the burning gaze on your back, Jungkook was staring, you knew it. You felt it. You closed your eyes to take a deep breath, your grip tightening on the bottle but then you felt him way before you could hear or see him. His arms stretched on either side of you, trapping your body between him and the table. Your breath hitched at his proximity, your body stiff, you couldn't breath or move, all too aware of the heat emanating from his body.

"Here." His warm breath tickled your ear, making you shiver, you felt your core springing to life. "Let me help you."

You inhaled sharply, gripping the plate as if your life depended on it, knuckles turning white. He was so close to you, his fresh and minty scent invading your senses. All you had to was to lean back and you would rest against him. Shit. How were you supposed not to think about the party when he was so close to you? When you had a perfect view on his veiny arms?

-Flashback-

When Jimin told you to have fun, you took his advice to the letter. You didn't really interact with people at the party mainly due to the fact that some of them were already half drunk, some you didn't like and some were just too busy flirting (and you couldn't possibly get in the way of that). It resulted with you emptying your second bottle of beer a little too fast. It wasn't strong enough to actually make you drunk but it was enough to relax, to make you more approachable too.

As the music was blasting in the house, you found yourself slowly moving to the beat. You put your empty bottle on the closest table and then joined the dancing bodies. You saw a classmate of yours, she grinned at you and stretched her hand for you to grab - and you did. She pulled you right between her and a friend of her, you assumed, and you started dancing. Everybody was in their own little world, some just dancing, some making out openly. Nobody cared.

The beat of the music resonated in your head, in your body. The scent of alcohol and tobacco hit your senses. In other situation, you would have scrunch your nose and made a face, but tonight, with alcohol in your system, it made you smile and savor the moment. You closed your eyes and let the music guide you.

You didn't know for how long you have been dancing, too absorbed into your world, your mind absolutely empty; you felt good about yourself, about your emotions, about your body, you felt confident and strong. Music and dancing had their own magic.

When you opened your eyes, a very unusual and unexpected sight presented before your eyes. Someone was staring at you, intensely, bewitched by your movements. It shouldn't have mattered, you were at a party and things like that happened all the time except the person was none other than Jeon Jungkook, the guy you proclaimed hating ever since you saw him banging a girl in one of the dance studio. But tonight, you were out of your mind, you realized because for the first time you saw him in a different light.

Jungkook looked absolutely handsome and hot.

He wore black ripped jeans with a black shirt with half buttons undone showing his toned chest and effortlessly attracting attention on him. His hair were parted in the middle, longer than you remembered and curly. You wished for a second you could run your fingers through them and tug at his soft locks. The look in his eyes sent shivers down your spine. His eyes were dark, feral, intimidating, it screamed danger. Tonight Jungkook was a predator in search of a prey.

Someone shouldn't look that good was your conclusion.

Jungkook's lips twitched in amusement and you mentally slapped yourself for staring back for so long. He was openly smirking at you as he took a sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving yours. The predator had found his prey.

There were two options, two possible outcome. You could run away and forget about this Jungkook. Or, and you were probably out of your mind for even contemplating it for a second, you could play his game.

You chose the later.

The staring contest between you two only got more intense; your moves got bolder, swinging your hips along with the music. You ran your hand slowly from your stomach to your neck. Jungkook wasn't the only one who could seduce, you could too.

And it worked.

Jungkook gulped at your behavior, unsettled for a brief moment before he chuckled to himself and ran his fingers through his hair. God, you wanted to do it too.

Jungkook emptied his glass, his decision taken. He found his prey for the night and he had no intention on letting you go just like that.

But you didn't make things easy for him. You saw him emptying his glass. You saw the look in his eyes, the resolution, the lust. You got the resulted intended. However, you didn't wait for him to join you. You had a better idea on mind which included you toying a little with Jungkook. Just as Jungkook joined the crowd, you walked away but not without glancing one last time at him. He halted in the middle, confused for a moment but then you winked and laughed. You got him there.

On your way to the garden you grabbed a bottle of vodka, it seemed like the right moment to spice things up (and maybe you weren't drunk enough yet).

The garden was almost empty. You spotted a couple laying in hammocks and another couple making out under a tree. It didn't bother you and they didn't mind your presence either (you were pretty sure none of them even noticed you). You stopped by the pool. You put the bottle on the ground and then took your heels off. You sat on the edge of the pool and put your feet in the water. The water was fresh but felt amazing against your aching feet. You took a sip of the vodka straight from the bottle, scrunching your nose at the bitter and burning taste and yet, now that you were comfortably settled, it felt good.

"Are you done playing hide and seek?"

You smiled to yourself at Jungkook's words. Of course he had followed you, you didn't expect any less from him. And yet, you had to admit that it felt weird hearing his voice and to have him addressing to you.

"Maybe. Maybe not." You playfully answered and took another sip.

Jungkook joined you on the ground but instead of following your example and try the fresh water from the pool, he sat with his legs crossed.

"You look different."

Oh. So he does remember me after all. You snorted at his remark and turn your face to look at him straight in the eyes. Yep. Still feels weird to be around him.

"Do I?"

Jungkook was watching you and seemed genuinely curious about you. He didn't have many opportunities to talk to you. He knew you were Jimin's friend just like he remembered seeing you at some of his classes too but except from that he never could talk to you. The reason? You were quite an intimidating little thing.  

"Yes. Less scary."

"When do I even look scary?" You scoffed

"Most of the time. And especially when you're scowling at me in class."

The sarcastic part of you was dying to bite back, but the reasonable part reminded you that yes you happened to scowl at him almost every time your eyes would meet. You shrugged, finding nothing to say in your defense and drank some more.

-Now-

Jungkook shifted to the side, letting you breath. He took the plate with the beer and snacks, winked at you before leaving you all by yourself. Frustrated.

I hate him.

                                                     ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

After the improvised party at your place, Jungkook got much bolder with you to your biggest dismay. If before the party he didn't try to speak to you, now he would randomly plop by your side at the library or cafeteria or would simply start talking to you in the middle of the hall. You wished you could say it annoyed you but it would be a big fat lie. Jungkook was, despite his fuck boy tendency, a nice, funny and open-minded guy. It was hard not to like him.

You walked to your next class, music blasting in your ears, once again, you were lost in your thoughts, not paying attention to your surroundings. Maybe you should change your habits for your own safety. A strong arm circled your shoulders and the next thing you knew you were pressed to Jungkook's side. You stumbled, your hand by reflex grabbed his arm, digging your nails into his forearm.

"For fuck's sake!" You yelled at him which only made him smile childishly at you. How were you supposed to stay mad? "I'm going to kick your ass one day, Jeon."

"Charming. I'd love to see you try." He winked at you.

"You think just because you can lift some heavy shit I can't beat you?" You huffed in annoyance and resumed your walking without waiting for his reply. Jungkook, however, didn't give up and followed you, walking at your pace.

"Did you enjoy the view?"

Maybe you shouldn't have mentioned that. You bit on your lips and mentally facepalmed. Jungkook got you there. But there was no way you would let him know just how badly he affected you.

"Yes." You admitted and glanced at him, your head high. "Happy?"

You didn't wait for his answer but heard him whisper a yeah.

                                                  ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

Jimin plopped down at the other side of the couch where you were sitting comfortably, studying for the upcoming exam. Despite Jimin being awfully noisy, you had managed to concentrate on your work. Until Jimin kicked your legs. The first time you ignored him on purpose but then he kicked a second and a third time. You threw a rubber at him (which he of course dodged easily, expecting this reaction from you) annoyed with his behavior.

"Rude." He complained but smiled anyway. "What got your panties in a twist?"

"Your stupid face for instance." You kicked his leg in return but he grabbed your ankle and pulled at it, making you squeal and make your book fall on the floor.

"Jimin!" You whined and tried to free your ankle from his grip. It didn't work at all, he held your ankle tightly before a smug smile spread on his lips and he started massaging your foot. "Oh shit."

"So? Why are you grumpy?"

Jimin, despite his angelic looks, was the devil in disguise. Or maybe  you've been friends for too long and he knew his way with you. Probably a mix of both. Just like he knew you would melt and spill the beans in exchange of a massage.

"Shit, shit. It feels too good."

"Does it now?"

"Yeah."

"Now you don't hate me?" Jimin halted for a moment just to hear you whine in protest. He chuckled heartily and gave your foot a gentle squeeze.

"Fuck, fine. I don't hate you. Happy?"

"Very. Thank you."

You slid on the couch to give him better access to your foot and closed your eyes to enjoy the massage (for once you didn't need to beg him for it).

"Jungkook asked me about you." Jimin said without looking at you. You, however, opened one eye to peek at him.

"And so?"

"He understands why I keep you around."

"You're just as big of a pain in the ass."

"True." He approved. "He still doesn't remember with who he spent the night though."

"What do you think about Jungkook, Y/N?"

You were surprised with how serious Jimin sounded, it forced you to look at him, confused at what exactly he wanted to hear from you. Jungkook? Another pain in the ass but who was terribly attracting. You sat up on the couch, legs crossed as you looked back at Jimin. "I don't know."

"You don't know or you don't want to say it out loud?"

"Ugh. Fine. He's nice. Very nice."

"Nice?" He quirked a brow at you, amused. "Nice as in I totally want to bang him again or nice as in you want to be friend with him?"

Both suggestion sounded nice. You wanted to answer as friends but you realized by the look Jimin was giving you, he already knew the answer. "Both."

Jimin only hummed in response which bothered you more than you wanted to admit.

"Ok. Spill."

"What?"

"You want to say something, clearly."

"Honestly? I should tell you that it's a bad idea but you kinda look cute together."

You sighed in defeat. There was no denying, you were whipped for Jeon Jungkook.

"Oh. He asked for your number. I gave it to him."

"What?!"

                                                    ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

Unknown Number [8:15pm] : I know you're busy today, but can you add me to your to-do list?

"Oh my god." You almost fell from the coach as you double-checked the message. You didn't recognize the number but judging by the horrible pick-up line you could only guess to who the number belonged.

"Jimin. Does Jungkook's number finishes by 47?"

Jimin's face showed up at the door of the kitchen, peeking at you. "Yes, why?" Jimin, however, didn't wait for your answer, his face lightened wickedly at you. "Of course. What did he write to you?"

Just to be the annoying friend, you stuck your tongue out, holding your phone protectively over your chest, you didn't answer him.

"Oh come on! Y/N! I'm your best friend!"

"You know already too much!"

"Pff."

You [8:20pm] : Depends on what you need from me, Jeon.

Jeon [8:21pm] : Oh! You guessed it was me!

You [8:21pm] : Who else would use such a bad pick-up line?

Jeon [8:22pm] : I bet you smiled.

You [8:22m] : No.

Jeon [8:23pm] : You did, didn't you?

You [8:23pm] : What do you want?

Jeon [8:24pm] : I actually need your help. Because of dance practice, I missed some English classes. Can we meet?

You stared blankly at your phone, pondering over his question. A part of you truly wanted to say yes, not only because you wouldn't mind helping him but because you could spend some more time with him. The other part of you rang the alarms in your head; meeting Jungkook meant getting to know him better, to get attached and you couldn't let him trouble you more than he already did.

Jeon [8:26pm] : Pretty please?

Fuck. He won.

                                                  ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

Jungkook and you decided to meet on Saturday afternoon at a Starbucks. Nothing better than a hot date (which he was't you wanted to think) and some good coffee to brighten your day. And yet, when you arrived five minutes earlier, you found Jungkook already waiting for you, a huge smile spread on his face at your sight. He had two cup of coffee waiting at the table for you.

"Hi you." He beamed at you.

You thought Jungkook couldn't surprise you any longer. Wrong. You barely joined him at the table, he stood up and eagerly embraced you into a warm hug. Unable to breath, you stood awkwardly, letting him hug you as if you were some close friend. His arms around you lingered a little longer than necessary but you would lie if you said you didn't like the feeling. You closed your eyes just for a brief moment and allowed yourself to enjoy the hug.

"Hi." Your voice sounded weak and so foreign to your own ears. You hoped he didn't notice it and if he did, he didn't comment.

"Thank you for coming." He said. "Here, I got you a cappuccino."

You stared at the cup before you eyed him cautious. "How do you know I drink mainly cappuccino?"

Maybe your eyes were playing you tricks but you swore he blushed.

"I noticed you drinking it almost all the time."

"Jungkook, do you have a crush on me or something?" You joked to hide your own embarrassment. Why did he need to be so darn cute?

"What if I say yes?" He dared to ask and looked straight into your eyes, no longer shy.

To say that you were taken aback by his bluntness would be the understatement of the century. Your heart missed a beat at his serious face, your face slowly heating up and there was nothing you could to prevent that. How ironical was that? All this time, you were so proud of yourself for staying out of troubles, not caring for guys. And then came Jeon damn Jungkook. You weren't so proud any longer.

"You don't need any help with English, do you?" You ended up saying, relaxing a bit. There was nothing you could do, except embrace your own feelings.

Jungkook smiled sheepishly at you. He put his elbows on the table, resting his head on top of his knuckles. "Touché. But tell me, Y/N, would you have said yes if I asked you out?"

To spite him up, you wanted to say no but for once you played nice. "Fine. You're right. I would have said no."

"See."

You huffed but smiled into your cup of coffee.

                                                   ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

It was past midnight when your movie night ended. It was supposed to be a night spent with Jimin since according to him ever since you started talking to Jungkook you spent less time with him. He was of course exaggerating. Or at least you hoped so. And yet, in the middle of your second movie of the night he had to leave to rescue Jungkook. You had to fight the urge to ask him what happened and if he needed help but that would only make things worse for you.

You glanced at your phone, almost expecting (because you couldn't admit out loud that you were actually hoping) to see a message from Jimin.  

"God. You're pathetic, Y/N!' You scolded yourself. You threw yourself at your pillow and hid your face in, muffling this way your screams of frustration.

But you were cut short in your self-pitying when you heard noises from the hall. You almost jumped out of your bed. You should have expected Jimin to come back sooner or later except it was noisy and Jimin wasn't supposed to be noisy.

Quickly, you got up from the bed and peeked through your half opened door. Jimin was in the hall and not alone. He had his arm tightly wrapped around a very drunk Jungkook who kept stumbling on his way. You almost wanted to laugh at the view; a very pissed Jimin and a giggly Jungkook, it deserved a video just to show them later. It was adorable. You mentally slapped yourself for even thinking something like that.

"For fuck's sake, Jungkook." Jimin groaned in frustration. His patience was at his limit, you could tell it by the frown on his face. He dropped Jungkook on the couch.

"Aw Jiminnie, don't be mad." Jungkook cooed and maybe he was unaffected by Jimin's angry look only because he was drunk. Jimin could get scary when he was mad and you believed that Jungkook knew it too.

"Shut up." He grabbed his legs and lifted them from the floor to move them on the couch. "Why the hell did you drink that much? Dumbass."

But Jungkook only giggled and nudged him with his foot. You didn't remember Jungkook being so childish the last time you saw him drunk but it was somehow endearing.

"Hey Jiminnie. Where's your cute roommate?"

You froze at the door while Jimin froze beside him. Your heart suddenly decided to act on its own, beating a little faster and you felt your face heating up.

"You know she's really cute."

"And you're drunk."

"Have you noticed how she would scrunch her nose when she's concentrated on something?" Jungkook asked absentmindedly, not really looking at Jimin, not really expecting an answer either.  "Or how she would tap with her pen and roll her eyes whenever someone says something really stupid?"

Your grip on your door tightened, a little too much, making the door squeak and grabbing Jimin's attention at the same time. You were caught red-handed. Jimin, however, relaxed at your presence and smiled fondly at you.

"Yeah. She does that a lot."

"She's feisty and stubborn as hell. And a tiny bit judgmental but I guess we all are at some point." Jimin actually laughed at that and you huffed in fake annoyance.

"Jeon Jungkook, you're completely whipped for my best friend." Jimin deadpanned. "But don't tell her all of that or she might bite your head off."

Jungkook giggled, seeming terribly amused with Jimin's advice.  You, however, felt the urge to barge in the room, slap Jimin's arm for being smug and hug Jungkook for being so adorable.

"Wait here, I'll bring you a blanket." But instead of doing what he said, Jimin winked your way and left for his room.

The little shit.

But you didn't complain. You grabbed the spare blanket from your room and brought it to Jungkook. He had his eyes closed, a hand covering his head. You hovered over him for a moment, observing him, checking him, before covering him with the blanket. You stood by his side for a moment, thousands of thoughts running through your head.  I like him. You realized it. It took you time to understand your own feelings, you were in denial for so long but it was undeniable. Jeon Jungkook, the boy you judged so hard, the boy you thought you would never be able to get along managed to break through your walls and capture your heart. Tsk. So annoying. But you smiled.

"Sleep well." You muttered, ready to leave.

But then, out of nowhere a hand wrapped around your wrist, tightly, and the next thing you knew, you were pulled harshly making you fall right on top of Jungkook. Your hands were now pressed against his torso and as you raised your head to look at him, Jungkook was staring at you. He was no longer pretending to sleep, his big eyes didn't seem so drunk anymore either, they were intense and you shivered under his gaze.

None of you talked, just looking at each other. Your heart pounding hard to the point that you were sure Jungkook could feel it too. If he did, he didn't comment. Instead, he let go of your arm before his fingers reached for your cheeks, gently stroking your skin and you, you couldn't do anything except being hypnotized by him. His fingers moved slowly from your cheeks to your lips, he pressed gently his thumb against your lips and you inhaled sharply, surprised with his action and at the same time so awfully tempted.

"Hi?" You muttered

Jungkook's face broke into a huge smile at how lost and confused you looked which was so out of your character but it pleased him.

"Are you flustered?" He asked innocently but by the look he was giving, he clearly was amused.

"Am not!" Maybe you shouldn't have hurried to answer because it made him grin only wider.

You huffed and tried to straighten up without success because as soon as you did, he pulled you back against him.

"Oh no. You're not going anywhere."

"Jungkook!"

"No."

"Jeon Jungkook, you better let go or-"

"Or what?"

Or I'm going to melt. Stop it. But you couldn't say it out-loud without risking another teasing. You groaned, frustrated and embarrassed at the same time. He was impossible to deal when he was drunk you decided. But if you thought he would stop there, you were wrong once again. Just when you thought he was slowly releasing his grip around you, he wrapped both of his arms around you and pulled you in a tight embrace. He shifted on the couch and somehow managed to make space for your body too. You ended up your back pressed against his chest, his face nuzzling in your neck as he hugged you tightly.

You didn't have the strength to push him away and maybe you were too astonished with his behavior to react too. You let him do as he pleases.

"That's nice." He sighed in delight. "I can get used to it."

Yeah. Me too.

                                                ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

When you woke up the next morning, it took you a moment to emerge and understand where you were. You remembered a very drunk and sweet and giggly Jungkook. You remembered falling asleep in his arms on the couch. And yet, when you looked around, you were in your room, in your bed.

What happened? Did I dream?

Hesitantly you moved to the edge of your bed, you grabbed the blanket that was over you and took it with you. Jungkook was nowhere around.

"He left twenty minutes ago." Jimin startled you, a cup of coffee in his hands. "He wanted to grab his bag before going to class."

"Oh." You nodded and went back to your room to get ready, making sure to avoid Jimin (and any comments he could make about last night).

                                            ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

Assisting to a marketing class when you were half asleep was probably not the best idea of the century. Through the first part of the class you kept yawning and the second part you slowly started drifting away. The buzzing of your phone, however, forced you to open your eyes and glanced at your phone. You still had a message from Jungkook that you refused to open and then a new message from Jimin. You clicked on the message, expecting a joke or a funny picture, except the result was much worse. It was a picture of you and Jungkook, sleeping peacefully together. Jungkook arms around you, his face in the crook of your neck, his nose bumping your neck and you had your hand on top of his.

"Oh shit." You half-yelled, attracting all attention on you. Not only of your classmates, Hana and Jungkook were looking at you but so was your teacher.

"So Y/N. Do you have something to say?" Your teacher asked, amused at your sudden outburst and considering the fact that you were sleeping in his class (he let it go only because he knew you were a good student).

"Sorry, got distracted."

"Were you now? At least you're awake now."

You groaned at his teasing but at least the didn't push further. Hana though was ready to question you.

"So?" She leaned expectantly and stared intensely at you, almost intimidating you.

"Nothing."

"Nothing? Babe, you were half asleep. Look, you even have some drool left." After all this time you should have known that she was just messing with you and yet you started rubbing your chin with your sleeve to make sure there was nothing. Hana laughed.

"Bitch."

"Love you too."

You contemplated the idea of showing her the picture (which were lovely and you wouldn't delete) but it was risky, Hana could be noisy and just as annoying as Jimin and you didn't want to deal with her drama.

"Don't ask." You finally said and looked away. Except your eyes fell right on Jungkook who was looking back at you.

Stop it.

You quickly averted your attention, grabbing your phone you typed your message to Jimin.

You [10:30am] : Don't even think about coming home. I'm going to kill you. Slowly. Painfully.

                                                 ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

It took you another week of mopping around, of denial and of avoiding to come in terms with your stupid feelings and treacherous heart. You had tried hard not to think about it by distracting yourself with all possible way: studying, watching movies and when your usual distraction didn’t work, you chose the only other way you knew: partying. Jimin, as the perfect best friend that he was, suggested you to come to his friends’ parties –you refused every single time, knowing all too well who you would meet there. Instead, you went to your cousin’s parties where you would not know half of people. If socializing was tiring, at least the free booze was worth it.

And yet, despite all your efforts to avoid the unavoidable, you came to conclusion that you were doomed from the moment you decided to play his game, from the moment you caught his eyes at the party, from the moment you let him in your life. You couldn’t deny it, you were in trouble just because you let your crush develop into something else. Something you had avoided for so long. But it was true, you had fallen for Jeon Jungkook, the guy you were supposed to hate.

You sighed for probably the tenth time this morning while crossing the parking of your campus. It was still too early for the campus to be crowded but it seemed like someone else was eager to get earlier. the sound of motorbike resonated just behind you, startling you. You turned around to scowl at the troublemakers but your voice got stuck in your throat. Of course it had to be Jeon damn Jungkook.

Just my luck.

You could deal with facing Jungkook or you could just simply escape before he would spot you. What bothered you however was the girl sitting behind him, her arms tightly wrapped around him, resting her head on his shoulder. You couldn’t ignore the horrible green monster that was eating you from inside. But who could you blame other than yourself?

Ha Y/N. Did you forget what he was?

                                                 ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

Maybe skipping your last classes for the sake of some time alone at your place wasn’t the best idea. You had, like probably many students before you, skipped some classes before, but it happened only once or twice until tonight. You wanted to be by yourself, far from your friends, far from the crowd and far from Jimin.

As soon as you got home, you put on your pajama, grabbed chocolates, chips and drinks before locking yourself in your room. You had the perfect plan to distract yourself: watching cartoons and forget about everything else.

Except your phone buzzed beside you, forcing you to burst your little bubble.

Hana : Should I worry? Where are you???

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. A part of you just wanted to throw your phone somewhere you couldn’t see it and pretend the outside world didn’t exist at all but your reasonable part won over.

You : I’m fine. Home.

And with that you switched your phone off.

The second time you were interrupted was barely two hours later. You had long forgotten about the time, too concentrated on eating and watching Tom and Jerry to actually pay attention to any noise coming out of your room.

The first knock at your door made you shut your eyes, knowing all too well that Jimin was finally back home. The second knock made your fist clench and by the third you gave up ignoring. And yet, you couldn’t find the strength to tell him a simple ‘come in’. Jimin invited himself in without your words, taking the risk to get scolded by you.

“Y/N?” He called for you and opened the door

Jimin’s eyes darted back and forth between your lazy body and the TV, weighing your mood and how bad it was. He leaded against the door with his arms crossed over his chest. “Tom and Jerry. Really?” You only glanced at him without answering his question. “Am I allowed to come in or are you going to kick me out?”

You sighed in defeat. With one swift move you removed your blanket and patted the empty spot beside you. Without a word he joined you on the bed, crawling from the edge to your side. You put back the fluffy blanket over you and let him watch the cartoon by your side.

In another situation, maybe you would have shared your thoughts with Jimin, he was your best friend and love trouble was something you used to discuss a lot but Jungkook was his friend and you couldn’t let your own feelings and fears get in between them.

“I can’t remember when was the last time we watched cartoons together.” Jimin muttered and stole some chips from the bag.

“When you had your nasty breakup with Hyeri.”

“Oh? That long?”

Jimin glanced at you from time to time, hoping you would talk. When he got a message from Hana, he did panic a little at your unusual yet familiar behavior. It wasn’t the first time, but he didn’t want it to get as ugly as the last time.

“Come here.” Jimin opened his arms for you to snuggle against him. There was little he could do if you didn’t want to talk but he was willing to give you what you needed anyway: the support of a friend.

You welcomed his invitation with a small sigh of delight, instantly shifting closer to him and resting your head on his chest. His warmth, his presence, his scent, everything in Jimin comforted you and you felt almost silly for trying to hide from him too.

“Thank you.” You whispered and pressed your head a little harder against him.

“You’re welcome.”

When Jimin started playing with your hair, you closed your eyes and reveled in the feeling of his fingers running through your hair.

“I like him.” You opened your eyes and stared before you.

“I know.”

                                               ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

The first thing Hana did when she saw you the next morning was to give you a tight and warm hug, rocking you from one side to another. You couldn’t breath and wanted to push her away but her grip on you only tightened.

“Do you feel better?” She let go of your body but just for a second, her hands stayed however on your shoulders. She was frowning, still worried about you.

“Yeah.”

“Sure?”

“Yes.”

“Absolutely sure?”

You groaned instead of replying and Hana let go of you with a chuckle.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

And despite your initial annoyance you couldn’t help but smile tiredly at her sweetness. You felt bad for worrying her and for ignoring her. But then, your eyes landed on Jungkook who walked along with Namjoon.

“No. Let’s go?”

                                                  ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

Just when you thought you could busy your mind with your next class, someone, not say who, managed to make you change your mind. There weren’t many seats left in the class and out of all empty places Jungkook chose the one just beside you. Jungkook didn’t say a word to you, he simply sat beside you, waiting for the teacher to start the class. You, however, couldn’t concentrate any longer, you couldn’t stop yourself from staring at him, your mind going crazy, screaming at him to explain himself. But he didn’t.

Until he couldn’t take it too. He turned to look at you, looking nervous with your staring. He rubbed his neck, slowly, and gulped. “Ok, what’s up?”

The sound of his voice brought you back from your slow mental breakdown, forcing you to find an answer to his question. And yet no sound left your mouth. What else could you possibly tell him? A part of you wanted to scream at him and tell him he was your problem, another part wanted to ignore him and then, there was the part of you that just wanted to talk to him and forget your worries.

“Now I feel intimidated. Should I worry?” He joked and laughed nervously

What came next, you couldn’t prevent, it was just too damn tempting. Out of nowhere you pinched Jungkook’s cheeks, holding them tightly and looking straight into his eyes while he blinked furiously at you, dumbfounded with your action.

“As if.” You stated

Jungkook looked like he wanted to say something but was cut short by your teacher, startling you which caused you to let go of him and regain your composure. You cleared your throat and avert your attention from Jungkook to your teacher. Your heart pounded in your chest and you could feel your face heating up as realization of what you had done hit you. What the fuck do you think you’re doing Y/N???

It was Jungkook’s turn to stare, his eyes wide opened. He opened his mouth and then closed it almost instantly.

“Okay, that was unexpected.” He whispered to himself but you being close to him heard it anyway.

But Jungkook being Jungkook, quickly returned to his old-self, no longer taken aback, he leaned closer to you, his feet touching yours under the table, you stiffened at the contact but didn’t say a word. “Do you feel better now?”

“What?” You looked at him

“Were you avoiding me, Y/N?” You didn’t like how your name sounded. It wasn’t a reproach but Jungkook didn’t look so nervous anymore and instead had a small smile in the corner of his lips, slowly turning into a smirk as you turned slowly your head to face him.

“Look who’s intimidating now.” You huffed in reply and feigned annoyance. He could stare at you all he wanted, he could invade your personal space but there was no way you could tell him that he was absolutely right. Jungkook understood it quickly. “Fine. Don’t answer.”

“I have a dance competition next month. Will you come?”

“Oh?” That was new. “Against who are you competing?”

“Many different colleges from the town.”

“well then, I will but you better win.”

“Be my lucky charm?” With that, he put his hand on top of yours. Your eyes followed the movement, gawking at his hand. And here came the butterflies, the goosebumps and your crazy heart.

You must be out of your mind.

By the end of the class, you fell into a comfortable silence. From time to time Jungkook would lightly bump you with his thigh or elbow you. If at first you believed it was by accident (just because he couldn’t keep on place), by the third time you realized he did it on purpose to get any reaction from you. He got nothing except for a slap on his arm and a scoff.

“You’re impossible.” You eventually said as you got up from your place ready to leave.

“Why?” He batted his eyelashes at you.

“Sure, pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about.”

Before you could leave him, Jungkook grabbed your arm and pulled lightly at it, obliging you to lean closer. You grabbed at his arm to prevent yourself from falling right on top of him. You had a snarky comeback just at the tip of your tongue, ready to snap at him. And yet, it died as soon as it came when you followed his eyes: Jungkook had a perfect view on your revealing top which meant he could see the only thing that prevented him from remembering. Your tattoo.

To say that Jungkook was shocked would be the understatement of the century. His face went blank and for a second you thought he had stopped breathing. He didn’t but the view of your tattoo made him forget everything he wanted to say and instead very vivid images filled his mind.

- Flashback-

You couldn't remember anymore how you got to Jungkook's place. Not because you were too drunk (you probably were otherwise you wouldn't be latched onto Jungkook's lips in the first place), but because you were too busy kissing, teeth clashing, tongue battling. No matter how strong Jungkook was you refused to let him have the last word and he let you believed (easily) that you had won the first round.

Latched on his lips, you stumbled twice but even in his drunken state he held you, his hand firmly pressed in your middle. Jungkook pushed you gently inside his flat, breaking the kiss just for a short moment to close the door. You groaned at the loss. The door barely closed, you grabbed him by the collar and yanked at it, bringing him at your level, your body pressed against his, seeking for his lips. They were soft, warm and felt heavenly against yours. You were addicted.

Jungkook led the way, you moved backwards, trusting him. His hands kept roaming around your body, from your neck to your back to the curve of your butt to which he gave a strong squeeze making you groan into the kiss and pull at his hair in response. Kissing was nice, felt divine even and you felt even more intoxicated, addicted, but it wasn't enough. Your body became overly sensitive with just his touches that left burning trails everywhere he touched you. Your core kept pulsing, feeling wet and terribly empty.

You broke the kiss for a second and you pulled your dress over your head, leaving you in nothing more than your bra and panties. Jungkook exhaled loudly, admiring the sight of you, from head to toe, wetting his lips at the tattoo on your right breast. He was hungry.

You opened your arms widely, inviting him to claim his prize. And oh boy he did. He cupped your face and planted his lips on yours, nudging you gently so you would resume the walking.

Until your hips met a hard surface. Jungkook instantly hoisted you up and put you on top of the table. His hands slid on yours thighs, stroking your skin before finally spreading your legs widely and settling in between. Jungkook looked absolutely fucked up (and without a doubt you looked the same, lips swollen, hair messy, his eyes darker than ever and completely blown. You licked your lips, shivering in excitement at what would come next.

"This need to go off." You pointed at his shirt and he complied without a word, smirking at how bossy you suddenly sounded. You had to stop yourself from drooling as he took of his shirt, exposing his strong arms, veiny hands and defined abs. "Shit."

"Like what you see?"

"Yeah." You gasped as he gently pinched your inner thigh. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him against you. "But you know what else I would like?" You nipped at his jaw, gently at first before biting on it. Your lips traveled from his jaw to his cheek to his ear that you caught in between your teeth, pulling at it and you smiled at his low growl. "The idea of your face between my legs." As you confessed your desire, you pulled away to look at him and at the sight of Jungkook's feral gaze you almost let a moan slip. You definitely wanted him between your legs.

"Yeah?" Jungkook's nails dug into your skin and then he pulled you closer to the edge with a swift harsh move. He sank to his knees and ended face to face with your throbbing core. He pulled at your panties with too much strength and you feared for a short moment that he would rip them - you forgot all about it when he kissed your clit, making you arch your back and bit on your lips. When you thought he would finally give you what you desperately needed, Jungkook surprised you by moving his lips to your thigh, kissing, licking your skin, leaving marks for you to remember later. You whined in protest, wanting him back on your center and not somewhere else. You grabbed his hair in attempt to switch his attention but with a blink of an eye he had your wrist in his grip and he glared at you from between your legs, looking annoyed and dangerous. And terribly seductive.

"Don't move or I'm not letting you come at all tonight." He warned you.

The bratty side of you wanted to protest and pushed at his buttons to see what could happen but the possibility of not having your release when you desperately needed one calmed you down. You nodded and he let go of your wrist to go back to business.

"Good girl." And just like that, his lips were around your clit, sucking, flicking his tongue and making you cry out his name.

"Feels good." Since he didn't let you grab his head, you held for your dear life by the edge of the table, your grip so strong, your knuckles turned white.

"Shit. Jungkook." You mewled, completely lost in your own pleasure.

There was little you could do when Jungkook ravished your clit, but then he pushed a finger inside you - it was game over. You couldn't hold back your moans any longer, your bucked your hips, wanting him closer to your core. He pushed a second finger, stretching you, pumping them, curling his fingers inside you to massage the right spot. Your thighs were shaking with every lick and curl of fingers and then, you let out the loudest moan.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, don't stop." And Jungkook chuckled at your pleading, his chuckle vibrating against you.

He was good and knew exactly where to push to completely unsettle you, to have you whining, trashing under his ministrations. You couldn't remember anymore when was the last time someone went down on you and even less remember someone as good as him. Suddenly, you understood why girls were so drawn to him and asked for more despite knowing he would never settle down.

It didn't take long for Jungkook to bring you close to your release, you could feel it with all your being. But so did Jungkook. With one last thrust of his fingers, he pulled away, leaving you empty, trembling and panting with your face flushed. You cried desperately at the loss. "Jungkook! You little-"

He laughed and gave one last kiss to your clit before moving his lips higher, ignoring completely your complains.

"Where would be the fun if I let you come right now?" His lips travelled to your belly, his tongue circling your belly button before kissing his way to the valley of your breast.  "I want you to cry, to beg and only then to come around my cock." Jungkook glanced at you from between your breast as he wrapped his mouth around your hard nipple, flicking his tongue over it before biting it softly and you couldn't help but pull at his hair and press him closer to your chest.

"Jungkook."

"Hm?"

You were at a loss for words at the sight, your core clenched and you felt yourself even wetter if it was possible. God you hated yourself for feeling so turned on, for liking him so much, for letting your desire win but nothing could stop you anymore. Not when your heart were racing. Not when your senses were overwhelmed. You grabbed him by the neck and forced him to stand up just so you could capture his lips in another intense and sloppy kiss.

"Jungkook. I want you. Now." You ordered against his lips.

"Hmm, I don't know. You weren't very nice to me." He pulled away, his hands rested on your hips as he stared at you.

"Jungkoooook!" You whined and nudged him with your leg.

"See."

"But I want to ride you."

Jungkook growled in response and lifted you from the table. Despite his smugness and words, Jungkook was hard and wanting nothing more than feel your tightness around his cock.  He brought you to his room and threw you without a single thought on his bed. You bounced on the bed, giggling while Jungkook took the last pieces of clothes that were still on him. Once undressed you grabbed his arm and pulled him on the bed, making him fall beside you and you took the chance to straddle him, grinding yourself against him, making him groan. You had your hands on his chest for support before positioning yourself and slowly sinking down on him with your eyes closed. Both of you groaned at the sensation, your walls clenching around his length, the stretch burning deliciously. You stayed still for a moment, absolutely enjoying the fullness.

Jungkook was the one to urge you to move by bucking his hips. You bit on your lips but complied. Raising yourself before slamming back, setting your own pace. You rode him, your breasts bouncing with every move. Jungkook held you by your hips, helping you, meeting your hips half way and you felt him deeper inside you, reaching for all the right spots. Every thrust sent waves of pleasure, your walls clenching around him.

"Shit, baby, you feel so good." Jungkook groaned and thrusted harder making you cry out his name in return and throw your head back in pure bliss. "You're so tight, god."

Jungkook growled as you unconsciously clenched one more time around him, his growl sounding so damn animalistic you swore it was the sexiest thing you had ever heard. But then, he flipped you over, he grabbed your legs and thrusted back inside you, pounding harder and stronger than ever and you held his arms, digging your nails, scratching him. Tears pricking at the corner of your eyes, you arched your back in delight, your release was so close and you could feel how strong, how powerful, how shattering it would be.

"Jungkook, fuck, please." You begged but you weren't sure whether you wanted him to go harder or help you out with your orgasm that was just so close and yet.

"Hmm, need to do better than that, babe." He smirked and you felt him slowing down and pulling half way from you, making you wiggle under him in protest.

"Please, please, please. Jungkook, please." You begged and Jungkook slammed back, his cock hitting deeper with every thrust. He slid his hand in between your bodies and rubbed your clit in circles mercilessly.

Your thighs were jerking, your senses overwhelmed; you closed your eyes as fire pooled low in your abdomen before exploding, a shockwave that had you screaming his name. Jungkook kept pounding into you through your orgasm, seeking for his own release that came right after with a deep growl.

Jungkook collapsed on top of you and you hugged him tightly against you.

-Now-

Abruptly, you freed yourself from his grip and took a step back, your legs shaking under his gaze. There weren’t many things that terrified you but the idea of Jungkook finding out about that night was definitely on the list.

“I need to go.” Your voice cracked and you cursed yourself for feeling so weak. You didn’t let him time to recover or to stop you. You ran away without looking back. Without seeing Jungkook’s gaze following you. Without seeing how slowly a genuine and proud smile spread on his face.

                                                  ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

Hana [4:15pm] : So what if he knows? You became quite closed and it’s obvious he likes flirting with you.

You  [4:15pm] : I don’t want him to flirt with me.

Jimin [4:15pm] : Now that’s a lie and we all know that.

You [4:16pm] : Fine. I do like him flirting with me but I think I want more and I don’t think it’s something Jungkook can give me.

Jimin [4:18pm]: You wouldn’t know that Y/N. Yes Jungkook sleeps around, I can’t deny that but he’s a nice guy and despite what you think he can get serious too.

At Jimin’s message you groaned, ready to throw your phone away just so he couldn’t add something unnecessary, something that would  get your hopes up. Jimin was being a nice friend, you knew it, but you were a stubborn little fellow and you never listened.

Jimin [4:25pm] Honestly Y/N, does it really matter that he remembers?

You [4:25pm] : YES. It’s damn embarrassing!

Jimin [4:26]: 🤦🏼‍♀️

Jimin [4:26pm]: Don’t you remember that day what he said about the girl?

You [4:27pm]: Get lost Park Jimin!

Hana  [4:27pm] : I agree with Jimin!

You [4:28pm]: Of course you do.

Jimin [4:29pm] : Fuck it. I’m done playing nice.

Your eyes widened in shock at his words. A storm was coming and you could only brace yourself for his next message that would probably leave you bitter and regretful.

Jimin [4:31pm]: Y/N, how old are you? Stop being a child. You both are adults. Talk to him, I’m sure he will surprise you. If not, then get over it. Move on but stop acting like a damn teenager.

                                                  ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

To your not so biggest surprised, Jimin didn’t go straight home after classes. It was past nine in the evening and you kept glancing at your phone, expecting a message or any reaction from him. Nothing came. Jimin was undoubtedly upset with you and when Jimin was upset, it was for the best for him to stay away from people. You bit on your lips, fighting the urge to call him and apologize and tell him to come home.

When the doorbell rang you jumped from the couch, too fast, feeling dizzy for a second. You were in such hurry, in hope, that you didn’t even think for a second that Jimin had his keys and had no reason to rang at the door. You realized it too late when you opened the door and were face to face with none other than Jeon Jungkook.

Your first reflex was to stop breathing. Then, when your brain fully registered that yes Jungkook was really standing before you, you tried to close the door just as fast as you had opened it. You were fast. Jungkook was faster. He blocked the door with his feet, wincing at the strength you had put, before pushing the door with his hand.

“Don’t be like that, Y/N.” He pleaded, his voice soft and low.

For a second, you were tempted to yell at him and tell him to leave but then Jimin’s words echoed in your head, making you close your eyes and took a deep breath. Reluctantly, you moved to the side and let him in. And he did, his arm brushing yours, making you bite your lips, trying hard to ignore how your heart had skipped a beat. You closed the door behind him and led the way.

It felt awkward. Scratch that, you felt awkward being alone in the same room as Jungkook. You looked at everything except at him. Maybe you were scared to see how he looked at you. Maybe you were scared to let your walls down. But Jungkook saw through you.

“Is it that hard to look at me?”

Just because of your damn ego, you raised your head to look at him, trying not to waver under his adorable smile. Yes, it was hard to look at him, especially when he looked so natural, so soft, so different to the image of him you used to have.

“See? It’s not that hard.”

“What are you doing here, Jungkook?” You finally asked, unable to hide your curiosity.

“I’m glad it was you.” He said instead of answering to your question. It took you off guard, not only his words but his sincerity too. Jungkook didn’t want to talk about that night, he wasn’t dense or stupid not to notice how uncomfortable you were, but he wanted you to know how he felt.

“Does it change something?” Without you realizing it, your voice was filled with hope.

Jungkook took a step closer to you and you almost felt the itch to take a step back, but something held you back and Jungkook took it as a sign that he could get closer. Your breath hitched in your throat, you looked at him in hope and your heart pounding in your chest, roaring in your ears. The waiting, despite it being only seconds, were almost unbearable.

Jungkook, however, always managed to surprise you. His hand reached for your face, thumb stroking gently your skin and the look in his eyes made you melt into puddle right on the spot. “Depends.” He took another step, your body brushing, his warmth embracing you. If only Jungkook knew he had you wrapped around his finger. He could probably ask you anything and at this point you would say yes without questioning.

“Depends on what?” You managed to whisper.

“What do you want from me, Y/N?” And he leaned closer, his lips so damn close to yours, his warm breath ghosting over your lips and yet never touching.

You wanted to be greedy. You wanted to let go. So instead of answering him, you grabbed him by his neck and smashed your lips against his into a bruising, needy, passionate kiss. Jungkook chuckled into the kiss, his arm slipped around you and pressed your body so there would be no more space left between you two, lifting you slightly from the floor as he kissed you back with just as much eagerness.

"Win the competition and we might work it out."

[i4z-0892-il]

Monster House 7

Summary: Posing as Newlyweds Sam and Y/n set out to investigate what’s killing the visitors of a secluded Inn, and attempt to keep their working relationship professional.

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Word count: 4884

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only, suggestive themes, language, smut

A/N: tropes, tropes, tropes!! Well here’s another wall of text y’all! 

Immerse yourself in the story, Buy Sam’s Scent Here from @scentsfromthebunker (And damn does it smell goooooood)

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Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6

No one wants to tell you how much effort is involved in digging up a six foot deep grave armed with nothing but a couple of old rusty shovels and sheer willpower. No one wants to tell you how long it takes either. The Sun was going to be up in the next hour or so, and the cover of darkness was a necessary precaution when it came to gravedigging. When Sam’s shovel struck something hard and hollow you could not have been more thrilled. Your eyes met his, as he moved to get a better angle. 

Sam jammed the spade of his shovel between the lid of the coffin and the side prying it open with creaking wood and a crack of relief as the lid came loose. 

“…The hell?” Sam’s face twisted in confusion as he lifted the top, hazel eyes moved back to you as he shoved the lid to the side of the hole revealing an empty coffin.

“Well that can’t be a good sign.” You announced, just as puzzled as Sam.

“You’re sure he said he was buried here?”

“No Sam, I just made it up so we could pointlessly dig a hole in the middle of the night for fun.” You rolled sarcastic eyes at him.

“Hey, I know how much you love digging holes. So if he’s not here-”

“Then just where the fuck is he?”

Together, you and Sam dug up the next grave, Mrs. Wellington’s body- also gone.

 In less than an hour the night sky would turn and Sunrise would come all too quickly. Time was up, none left to double check the coffins of the children, but the conclusion was that it would be a fruitless effort regardless. They would likely be gone. The two of you shoveled the dirt back into the holes and set to hike back to the Inn.

“So… How do we stop a ghost that doesn’t have bones?” You asked, wiping sweat from your brow with the back of your dirty hand.

“Better question is what took them?” Sam replied. 

The snap of a branch echoed through the trees and you both stopped in place, cautious eyes scanning the woods around you. In an instant you were transported back to the Wilderness of West Virginia, that fateful day. Had it followed you? Was that even possible? Was there more than one? You never spoke about it, never spoke aloud what happened to your family in fear that the White Thing would somehow find you again to finish the job. 

Sam put a large hand on your shoulder, gathering your attention and pointing about thirty yards north to a little blip of light strobing between the trees. You certainly weren’t alone, but your anxiety quelled at the notion of it being literally anything other than the White Thing. When you and Sam moved it was in stealth, following the light back to the rotting house you found the day before. The light turned off, and the shadow of a tall man wrestled with the lock on the door for a moment before the loud clattering of chains fell to the forest floor.

“Same guy from yesterday.” You said. Same height, same hunched over posture. The bag he dragged behind him had a body in it no doubt. The stench from the kitchen was far to foul to be anything other than a body, it wasn’t a far leap to guess what this bag was filled with too. He disappeared into the house followed by the sound of clacking locks. You followed Sam to the back of the house to the busted basement window. It was easy going in when no one was home, far harder to screw up the courage when you didn’t quite know what was locked in the house with you.

“Are you strapped?” Sam asked, you gaped at him. What nerve. You tugged up the back of your shirt where your handgun was tucked into the lining of your jeans.

“Uh, yeah Sam. I’m not an amateur.” You snarked, it came out a little bitchier than you’d intended, but Sam didn’t seem too bothered giving you a dimpled grin in response. To be fair you had a right to be sarcastic. You’d been doing this just over half your life. Left home at 15 and never looked back. It was rough in the beginning, learning the ropes. Thankfully you were a pretty quick study; save for some bumps, bruises and scars along the way, you managed. 

Sucking in a deep breath you readied yourself to climb back into that dank basement. Sam was looking at you, you could see him in your peripheral, sizing you up and gauging your reactions. Surely he noticed your hesitation, but he gave you the much needed moment before offering to step in for you. The idea of Sam, gigantic, humongous, Sam trying fit through that tiny ass window? Ha! You’d pay good money to see him try but now wasn’t the time.

You let out a huff, breath coming out as mist dissipating in the air, before setting to your task and climbing into the window again. Boots hit the dirt floor with a soft thud as you allowed time for your eyes to adjust to the pitch. Barely visible shapes of shelves bloomed in your sight, your hands slid along the wall careful of your surroundings as you tried to make it blindly to the cellar door. Sam watched you disappear into the dark, moving to the door for the tell tale sound of the log being moved. 

A full minute passed, and the edges of paranoia crept in. You were still trying to find your way, it was too dark in there, he should have given you a light.

30 more seconds. He’d give you 30 seconds to find the door. Much too impatient for that he stepped back to the broken window, whistling a bird call. When you didn’t reply with a call of your own his panic was full blown. Something was wrong. 

He wouldn’t fit through the window. He couldn’t break through the log sealing the cellar doors, and even if he thought he could, it would waste too much time trying. The open window on the second floor was too high, even for his height. There was no way he’d break through the locks on the front door. The windows were all boarded from the inside. The scenarios whipped through his head like a meteor shower, all of them landing back exactly where he was, helpless. 

A loud crash from inside the house ripped him from his thoughts, then gunfire. And another crash. Before he had a chance to think again his feet moved, following the sounds of struggle, and pain. Fingers dipped into a soft spot along the outside of the wall, he stopped on the spot, brow furrowing in thought. The wall was squishy there, bloated with water, mold, and old termite damage. He pressed both hands into the wall and like a sponge it gave way, just enough to give him hope.

Another scream ripped from your throat, and it was all the confirmation Sam needed to plow his shoulder into the wall, and tear through it like tissue paper. He stumbled into the room with the closet pulling his gun from the back of his jeans. Another scream, more in pain than the last, and he rounded the corner into the kitchen, a struggling body writhed on the table, as something pinned it to the table face down.

“Y/N!” Sam shouted, unloading three rounds into the back of the shadowed figure. It stood upright, and turned on heel to face him, taller, and broader than even Sam was.

“Sam! Ghoul!” You screamed as you rolled off the table , hitting the ground with a thud. Sam adjusted his aim, Ghouls meant headshots. With a bang the silver bullet let loose ripping through the forehead of the shadow, reducing it to a heap on the ground. Over as quickly as it had begun. On instinct Sam found you, pulling you into his arms.

“Hey, you alright?”  He asked, helping you to your feet. Out of breath and exhausted you let out a laugh.

“Just fuckin’ peachy.” You muttered. You snagged the ends of the body filled plastic bag the Shadow had drug in, clutching the tender spot at your side with a grunt. “Lets’s get the fuck out of here.”

Sam agreed, grabbing the body of the Shadow, and leading the way out the front door. The moonlight illuminated your attacker. Probably the groundskeeper based on the coveralls, and the smell of sweat, dirt, body odor and death; you were now sure the putrid scent wouldn’t wash off no matter how many showers you took.

“Jinkies. Why is it always the groundskeeper?” You said, enthusiasm lacking severely in your tone. Sam crouched tearing a hole in the black plastic trash bag. Sure enough, a body,

“Nolan…” He sighed, disappointment setting in. The man from the parlor earlier that night. “He said his wife was sick, he looked pretty rough himself.”

“Worse now.” You replied.

“How did this happen right under our noses?” Sam questioned. He should have seen it coming. Sam usually got more involved in cases than you did. He always found a way to connect with people, always cared. People trusted him, it was the puppy dog eyes you thought. He just had a specific charm that cut through the walls of anyone. You loved that about him. Other people loved that about him. On the other hand, you were not so warm and fuzzy. Of all the descriptors in the world “people person” was not among them; you never knew what to say to make it better when he beat himself up over a loss. But you admired that he gave a damn enough to still feel anything anymore.

“Sam, we were out digging graves all night. We couldn’t possibly have known. Hell, we were pretty sure it was a ghost until like literally right now.” You said, dropping a hand to rest on his shoulder, giving a comforting squeeze. Looking past him at the body it became clear what Sam meant. The body was still warm, but Nolan was sickly looking, not just the dead kind of sickly, spent, and sallow, greying in pallor even for a freshly dead body. The Ghoul hadn’t even gotten the chance to chomp into him yet. “Did he say how long he was sick for?”

“No. But I got the impression that whatever the Wife was sick with hit her pretty quick.” Sam said with a shake of his head. This explained how parts of the bodies were being found. The Ghoul ate what it wanted and scattered the rest throughout the grounds.

“ If I’m right, and I usually am- If this was the groundskeeper, how much do you want to bet he was talking to one of the Overly-Friendly Innkeepers yesterday?”

“Think they’re in on it too?” He asked.

“I have some suspicions.” You answered. Fucking. Esmeralda. That woman rubbed you the wrong way from the first second, if there was something else fishy going on you’d stake your life on the claim that she was behind it. Something wasn’t adding up, and it stunk, like Esmeralda. Ugh, no. She probably wears designer perfume and smells amazing.

Disposing of the bodies was quick but messy. Nolan deserved to be salted and burned, but the ghoul… just to be sure it was dead you and Sam dismembered it, and buried it in the dirt basement. Time seemed to speed up with the Sunrise, and you barely made it back to the Inn before the sky lit up entirely.

Sam helped you shrug out of your jacket. A fresh, but shallow bite mark on your left shoulder was just one of two injuries you sustained, The other was a piece of wood sticking out just over your ribcage. That was going to suck. Bumps and bruises aside you walked away from the fight in pretty good condition. You’ve suffered far worse on hunting trips, this was cake.

“What happened in there?” He asked, the shame in his voice was palpable. It was guilt. Guilt that he wasn’t the one who climbed in and got hurt. Guilt over the fact that you didn’t even want to be there, that you hated this job, that you hated this lifestyle, and he put you in danger. It should have been him.

“I don’t know- he grabbed me out of the black, and the next thing I knew he was trying to take a bite out of me.” You answered. Sam’s  fingers brushed over the supple skin at the back of your neck raising goosebumps in the wake of his touch as he pulled the collar of your blood soaked shirt to the side to inspect the bite. Turning into a monster was the last thing you wanted to worry about, but you couldn’t remember if Ghoulishness was communicable or not. No, of course it wasn’t. Well… maybe. No. It’s not. But it could be. How the fuck were Ghouls even formed? You couldn’t think straight with Sam’s hands on you. “Is it bad? I’m not going to turn into a Ghoul am I?” 

“Uhm… I don’t think this is a bite.” Sam replied, humor in his tone, as he looked at three large dots in a perfectly straight line just above your shoulder blade. Either it was the oddest bite mark on Earth or…

“Well what is it then?”

“Best guess. A fork?” He answered.

“What?”

“It uh- it looks like you were stabbed with a fork. You’re up to date on your tetanus I hope?”

“Are you serious? I got fucking stabbed with a fork?” You questioned, standing up to inspect it yourself in the mirror hanging on the wall. 

“Better than being bitten right?”

“Ah ha ha ha. You think you’re funny don’t you?” You snarked, a pleased little smile graced Sam’s lips as he poured alcohol over the little punctures, like pouring lemon juice over papercuts, and then placed a single wide bandaid over it. “Thanks, Doc, am I cured now?”

“Not yet, let’s see those ribs.” He commanded. A little more than happy to oblige you struggled to tug your soiled t-shirt over your head. Some of those stains weren’t coming out, and it was one of your favorites. Sam stepped up to help, fingers grazing over your bare skin as he freed you. There it was, over your left rib cage a large black and purple bruise, with a large chunk of wood buried deep under the skin and out the other side. Hed it been any less intriguing to look at his eyes certainly would have fixed lower than you face. He could see you half naked a thousand times and you would never stop taking his breath away. But he was a gentleman, and you had made your professionalism clear, even though you called to him in your sleep. 

“Oh gross.” You exclaimed upon seeing the biggest splinter you’d ever gotten. No, not a splinter, you straight up got stabbed with a piece of wood. 

The struggle was real, he caught you completely off guard, you didn’t hear him, didn’t know the houl was down there in the dark with you until he clamped a large hand over your mouth and wrapped you up in arms too thick and strong for you to do much. But he wasn’t counting on you giving him the struggle of a lifetime. 

“I’ve never had living flesh before.” He taunted. Kicking and biting all the way up the stairs you finally saw an opportunity and dug your feet into the doorframe refusing to go any further, pushing back hard enough to knock him off balance and drop you. You hit the floor and rolled yanking your handgun from the back of your jeans and unloading 3 rounds into his chest, but he kept coming stalking towards you getting angrier with each bullet. He whipped a hand across your face, before grabbing you by the shoulders and slamming you onto an end table which collapsed beneath you splintering into shards, then pain. Yanking you up by the hair he threw you into the kitchen table and then he was on you. That sick rancid smell of rotting meat and death permeating every sense. Until gunfire, and Sam.

“You know this means we have to stay longer.” Sam stated, as he set to work trying to figure out the best extraction method. It was deep but nothing punctured, a clean through and through. Best thing to do was just pull it out. 

“Yeah, I figured as much. I’m not thrilled about it, gotta say.” You replied. Sam responded with a  half smile, focused on the task at hand, with a quick motion he yanked the shard of wood straight out of your side. “OW!” You yelped, and shoved his shoulder in mock offense.

“Hard part’s over now.” He said, before pouring more whiskey over the open wound. With a wince you shoved him again. Sam just smiled, and began the less than fun process of sewing up the two large puncture wounds. It would have been easy to watch him work forever. It would have been easy just to watch him do literally anything forever.

“Why are you nervous in the woods?” He asked, out of the blue, and feeling like walking straight into a wall.

“What kind of question is that? You know why, you know what’s you there.” A half truth. Sam saw through it, saw through you.

“Yeah, but I don’t think it’s just that. You’ve been on edge since we pulled in.”

“To be fair I could be back home stuffing my face with pizza rolls with a six pack, binge watching Outlander. But instead I spent the night digging graves. You should be on edge too.” Mmm… Jamie. You had a full docket, wasn’t that enough reason to not want to go traipsing around the woods digging up empty graves under the scrutiny of the weird Staff and getting stabbed with a fork? It was more than justifiable to you.

“That’s how you’d spend your week alone?” Sam asked with a chuckle, snipping the ends of the suture.

“Pfft, I’m not telling you all my secrets.” You replied. Oh but he could imagine the things you might do by yourself. Did you ever think of him? Just once even. What he wouldn’t give for confirmation. The little sounds as you touched yourself, the things you might be thinking in your own head. The thin layer of sweat glistening in the cool night air. His name falling from your lips in a gasp as you came apart. But there was only one secret he was truly interested in.

“Okay, then just tell me one. What’s going on with you?” He said snipping the ends off of the final stitch.

“Look, Sam I’m not going to give you my damn- origin story. I just don’t care much for the woods is all.” You snipped. End of conversation. Shut that shit down. You never told anyone what happened. It was something you intended to take to the grave. It was something you intended to keep locked away even from yourself. So much time and effort went into fighting the memory of that day, you couldn’t just drudge it up for anyone. Sam wasn’t anyone. Could you do it for him?

“Okay. Maybe I misread you. But- uh… If you did. Want to give me your origin story, I would be more than happy to listen.” He reassured, taking your hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. Suddenly you felt guilty for not sharing. It was your story to give if you wanted to, but now it felt like you were just hiding something.

“It’s violent, and bloody, and traumatizing, like everyone else’s. There’s nothing more to it.” You dismissed, moving to grab clean clothes to sleep in, and a towel.

“I don’t think you’re like everyone else.” Sam replied, stopping you in your tracks. If you turned around, if you looked at his face, you’d cave. So you didn’t.

“That doesn’t matter. It’s the same old song and dance. You see something, you lose someone, you search a little too hard and then you get sucked in.” You said and disappeared into the bathroom.

After a night like this, the best cure for any ailment was a steamy shower with the water cranked as hot as you could stand it. Letting it wash over you, carrying away the dirt, the blood, the sin, it was as close to tranquil as you’d ever get. And you were not one to miss out on a shower at a nice hotel. Great water pressure, perfect temperature. Ah, it was like heaven. The nagging in the back of your mind was impossible to ignore. Open up. Just tell him. Just do it. You might feel better. You’ve only kept this secret for a decade and then some. Speaking it into reality doesn’t make it any more or less real or true. It happened, it couldn’t un-happen. You can’t undo it, and it wouldn’t make the pain of that any more bearable if you shared it with someone. And of all people… it was Sam. 

Stepping out of the bathroom finally your eyes immediately landed on Sam pouring over John’s journal. There you were again getting lost in his visage, still covered in dirt, and exhausted beyond measure. You walked up behind him and leaned over his shoulder, between the sweet and floral scent of your shampoo and the feel of your breasts as you leaned against him, he could have melted into your arms. Soft, and warm, if he paused in his mind he could trick himself, for a brief moment, that this was how it always was. 

“Someone’s been busy.” Your eyes scanned the various papers and notes spread over the table in front of him, picking up one of the papers your brow nit at the list. “Vampire, Vetala, Djinn… What is this?”

“I don’t think Nolan and his wife were sick. You saw his corpse he looked sucked dry. I’m trying to find anything that takes the life force to feed. It happened fast, but over time. So it’s not a wraith, or Okami, or a Banshee.” He explained. Something just wasn’t adding up for him, but he couldn’t quite put a finger on it.

“That’s a pretty short list.” 

“No kidding.”

“You’re brilliant, it’ll come to you.” You said, dropping the paper back on the table, and moving to the chair beside him. Pausing and starting and pausing again, you struggled to find the words. Being vulnerable was not a speciality of yours, in fact you did your damndest not to let yourself feel that way. It only led to pain and digging up shit you’d buried for reasons.. But with Sam you weren’t afraid. You knew his story, yours was just as unbelievable, it was only fair. “So, uhm… When I was 15, I was walking through the woods behind our house, it was basically a straight shot home from school, and I used to play in those woods, like… all the time as a kid. But one day it was like the forest was alive and threatening me.”

You made the mistake of looking at his face, fixed in confusion, concern, maybe even adoration. He’d dropped everything, the monsters in the book before him suddenly meant nothing.

“I know how it sounds, but trust me, they- the trees moved, and switched on me, and I got lost, and then. Then there was this stillness, like a vaccuum sucked out all of the air, you could hear a pin drop. And the… White Thing. “ A chill ran down your spine, raising goosebumps, he took your hands in his. “And it was the most terrified I’d ever been, I thought I was going to die, but it handed me this little stone.”  He didn’t believe you, or you were convinced he didn’t. Either way it didn’t matter, you had proof. You stood and walked to the bed, yanking your bag from under it, and rifling through the pockets, finding it with an ah-ha you returned to the table and set the little green stone with a carving in it on the table. Sam’s brow creased as he picked up the stone, his mouth moving to speak, but you cut him off.

“I left it there in the woods. I didn’t touch it. I ran straight home, and eventually passed out I guess. In the morning I got up and uh-… I went to find my brothers, and my parents, It was a blood bath, They were dead, all of them, and this stupid fucking rock was left there. That thing killed them, it was in my home… I was asleep. I didn’t even know.” Sam gave your hands a reassuring squeeze thumbs running over your knuckles as he leaned in until there was nothing but him in your vision. There was empathy in his eyes, no pity, or disbelief. You took in a breath to steady yourself, emotions beginning to peak more than you were comfortable displaying. You sniffed back the tears that threatened to gather.

“I tried to throw it out, back into the woods. Down a well. I buried it. I smashed it. I threw it into a river, a lake, the ocean. I threw it out of a car. Sam I’ve tried to get rid of this thing for almost 15 years. It just keeps coming back.” You said with an exasperated sigh attempting to catch your breath, gripping his fingers tightly. “Anyway… It wasn’t long after that I went searching for answers, and found the life.”

“And here you are.” He said, eyes like a field of sunflowers fixed on yours mesmerized by you.. Heart jumping into your throat you leaned in, closing the space between you to practically nothing.

“Here I am.” You whispered. He was close enough you could feel the warmth from him, you could practically taste him. You wanted more than anything in the entire world to know how his lips tasted. More than anything he wanted to know what yours tasted like.

Knock! Knock!

Nearly jumping out of your skin, and now boiling you turned a rage filled head to the door stomping to it more than happy to give that perfect little shit a piece of your mind. It was barely past 6am and Esmeralda was already trying to sink her claws into Sam? Yanking the door open you started in.

“Look I don’t know what your deal is but-” It was Derek! And he looked mortified. “Oh, shit I’m sorry! I  thought you were someone else.” Not that it made it any better.

“Good morning, Mrs. Wesson, I thought you might be awake. Pardon the interruption. Breakfast will be served shortly, but I wanted to deliver you this. For the Masquerade Ball tomorrow night.”

“I’m sorry, did you say Masquerade?” The dumbfounded look on your face must have been entertaining because Derek chuckled and handed the box to you. Sam stood up and walked to the door, hearing Derek’s voice and hearing about a delivery was more than enough for his interest to pique past disappointment at what just transpired- or rather, what didn’t. He stepped in close resting a hand at your hip, happy to play the territorial husband.

“Yes, in carrying on the tradition set down by the Wellington’s. This year’s theme is Heaven and Hell.” Derek explained.

“How charming. If there’s one thing I love more than a Ball, it’s a Masquerade. What is this box for?” What’s in the box? What’s in the boooxxx?! Brad Pitt. No, but really there better not be a human heart or something weird.

“Well, forgive the assumption, but you don’t strike me as the type to typically shop for such occasions, I sent for a few things for you.”

“You- I’m sorry, you sent for a few things?” You clarified, because clearly there was blood in your ear or something. Peeking into the box you gasped, and shook your head trying to hand the box back. “This is like a lot of money’s worth of a few things Derek. I’m sorry I can’t accept this.”

“But I insist, you may return them after the night is over, but in the meanwhile I think they will suit you.” Derek said, not taking no for an answer and stepping away from the door.

“Thanks…” You replied, unsure and a little confused. Turning to face Sam you kicked the door shut.

“There’s a really fancy dress and jewelry and stuff in this box.” Panic. You were in panic mode now. You were expected to wear that stuff- and lets not even touch how creepy-weird it is that the fucking Innkeeper just “sent for a few” really expensive, but also really pretty things for you! Ew! Weird! Pretty… You were expected to wear high heels.

“Well, if we’re going I guess I need to go into town later.” Sam said.

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[bonesgadh]

Each finalist’s pros, cons and key to winning the crown according to yours trully:

Jaida Essence Hall

Pros:

Talent

Jaida is an amazing performer, she dances, she sells her act, she is a very good designer and seamstress, she is polished, funny and overall a very complete queen. Most pageant queens who have been on the show are one-note queens, which is not Jaida’s case. Her looks are always on fucking point and she is simply gorgeous. There’s nothing else I can say about Jaida that hasn’t been said already.

Record

Only Gigi had a better track record than Jaida. She won three challenges and although she was in the bottom two once, she was always a good and strong contender.

Consistency

Gigi had a strong start but fell flat and Crystal woke up during the second half of the season, but Jaida was always a good queen (except for the second-to-last challenge). She didn’t really get a chance to put herself in the frontrunner position during the first half of the season because Gigi was dominating the competition, but she was patient and it paid off. It’s true that she failed at the one-woman show, but she quickly recovered and she proved it had been nothing but a slip. Ru likes stability, which can help Jaida’s chances.

Public image

Jaida is a very popular queen amongst her fellow queens and fans. She is charismatic, she has a likeable persona, she is an activist, she stands for diferent causes, and an altruistic queen is always a very good choice for a winner.

Cons:

Uniqueness

Although Jaida is a very talented queen her main style is something we have seen before, and one of the things Ru looks after in her winners is uniqueness, so that could play against her. 

Relatively slow start

Jaida won episode two, and after that she kind of fell into the background. Sh*rry P*e and Gigi won the next five challenges and Gigi’s domain of the competition didn’t allow for anybody else to shine, including Jaida. Her presence didn’t feel that much until after episode 8, when she started to win again.

Age

Ru is known for choosing young queens as winners. Raja and Bianca are the only queens above 30 to have won the competition, and that was because they were something else. Jaida is 32, which statistically speaking can affect her.

Snatch game performance

With the exception of Bebe (there was no Snatch Game in S1), Tyra (who had inmunity), Yvie (who was in the bottom two) and Violet (who was safe), every other winner has placed either high (Raja, Sharon, Bianca and Sasha) or has won the Snatch Game (Jinkx, Bob and Aquaria). Jaida’s impersonation wasn’t bad but it wasn’t memorable either.

Gigi Goode (honestly I don’t think Gigi stands a chance after her fuck up from yesterday. Not a single one. Even if her performance is flawless there’s no way Ru will crown her)

Pros:

Strong start

From the moment she entered the werk room you could see there was something special with her and with three main challenge wins by episode 8 she was the obvious frontrunner. At that point, you didn’t imagine any other queen taking the crown away from her. 

Versatility

Gigi is a very versatile queen, which is not very common. She is a skilled seamstress, she serves looks, she sings, she acts, she dances and she is an amazing performer. Her win in the Snatch Game proved she is quick-thinking and can be goofy, her win in the Ball challenge showed she is creative and skilled and she also did very well during the improv/acting challenges (World’s Worst and Gay’s Anatomy), which proves she is not a one-trick dog.

Challenges won

She won the Snatch Game which usually serves as the turning point of the season; it can either propel you to a frontrunner position or send you straight to the bottom. Like I mentioned above with Jaida, winners historically do good at the SG. She also won the Ball, another challenge winners have won (Bebe, Tyra, Sharon, Violet and Aquaria all won the Ball and, if you ask me, Bianca should have won it too).

On the other hand, no winner has ever won the Rusical/Lip sync extravaganza.

Performance skills

Although she didn’t have to lip-sync for her life she could benefit from the lip-sync for the crown format because she won two Rusicals and came very close to winning a third one, which proves she knows how to sell an act. Also she has already performed at the Werq The World Tour so she has an advantage when it comes to lip-syncing from her home.

Track record

Gigi has one of the finest records in Drag Race herstory. She won four challenges, a remarkable feature since she is only the third queen to achieve it (after Sharon Needles and Shea Couleé). However, contrary to Sharon and Shea, Gigi never placed in the bottom two—and Shea shared two of her wins with Sasha—. Tyra, Bianca, Violet, Sasha and Aquaria won their season without having to lip sync for their lives.

She rises up to the challenge

Gigi admitted she was not a particularly good dancer and struggled whenever she had to perform in a dancing challenge, but she delivered and excelled at them. Also during the Madonna Rusical she wanted to be cone bra Madonna but she gave up the part and still won the motherfucking challenge. I hate it when queens who don’t get their way just complain and throw tantrums and come up with excuses to justify why they did bad in the challenge, but she simply trusted herself and did and excellent job. 

Age

When picking the season’s winner, Ru leans towards younger queens. Except for Raja (36) and Bianca (38) every single winner won their season when they were less than 30 years old, and Tyra (21), Jinkx (25), Violet (21), Aquaria (21) and Yvie (25) were 25 or younger. Gigi is 22, which gives her a slight advantage against Crystal (29) and Jaida (32).

Cons:

That tweet and the controversy that came with it

For those of you who didn’t hear, yesterday relatively early in the morning Gigi tweeted about her excitement for the season 12 finale and she literally used the words: “I can’t breathe”, which was a horrible thing given the murder of George Floyd. 

Now here’s the thing: Gigi did what she did because she clearly had no idea of what had happened, which is worse than the tweet itself if you ask me. But then she comes with a long-ass statement to adress the issue and she only digged herself into a deeper hole. As a mexican woman I have experienced racism and I hate it when people just look the other way because they are acting from their own privilege, the privilege of knowing that the decision made by those in power won’t affect them, but the rest of us can’t afford to shut everything out or to blame it on our anxiety. 

Political issues were a big thing this season and the truth is you can’t aspire to become America’s Next Drag Superstar, a title that demands you to be politically and socially aware, and come up with excuses like: “oh, I don’t get into politics because I find them awful.” Gurl, when Aquaria came to Mexico a day after being crowned and I was lucky enough to see her, she adressed the presidential election that was happening the next day and threw shade at her own country. She had no reason to know there was going to be an election but she encouraged us all to vote because we needed our voice to be heard. She was the same age Gigi is today and she was never in the need to use the anxiety card to justify her political ignorance, and although she has also screwed up many times before she has tried to educate herself because she is aware of her privilege, and I respect her for that.

I’m very sorry for Gigi, I’m pretty sure she ruined her chances of winning which is a shame because I don’t think she is either a racist or the devil with human form, she made a terrible mistake and I hope she learns from this and bounces back. She owes it to her fans and to herself to do better next time.

Lost momentum

By episode 8 she had won three challenges but things went south for her after that, which allowed other queens to rise (especially Crystal and Jaida). She went from a 10 to a 6.5 in three episodes and it was painful to watch, and although she bounced back to win the final challenge the truth is she lost a ton of momentum, which can really hurt you during a competition as tough as Drag Race. You can’t allow yourself to lower your guard.

Uniqueness

Just like Jaida she is not a particularly unique queen, and one of the things Ru looks after in her winners is uniqueness. Although she is very versatile, her main style is something we have seen before. Personally she reminds me of Aquaria, although if you ask me—and here’s where a probably unpopular opinion quicks in—Gigi has a wider range than her. There are also traces of Raja and Violet, so that could play against her.

Self-sabotage

Gigi showed she can laugh at herself and be goofy, and given her good performances at the improv challenges and the snatch game I was surprised to see her fail the way she did at the commercial and debate challenges. Her performance at the one-woman show was “fine” and her make over challenge was mediocre, which is kind of unforgivable for a look queen because you expect them to excel. Sometimes it seemed as if she was trying too hard, but my guess is after performing so well she thought Ru and the judges wanted more, and her fear of failing is what brought her to fail. She chose to put her silly side aside, completely forgetting Ru likes it when queens just let go and have a good time.

Crystal Methyd: She needs to bring her A+ game to the lip syncs. If she manages to channelize her charm and uniqueness into friday’s performance then watch out, because it won’t matter if she is not as polished as Gigi and Jaida. Ru will choose a queen with a heart over a pretty face, as long as said queen gives her all.

Pros:

Uniqueness

Although her style is similar to other queens, she injects her performances with her own sense of humor and fashion. It is always amazing when a “different” queen does good in the competition and it makes you root for her.

Attitude

Crystal is one of the most kindhearted queens to have ever been on the show. She is likable and has a heart the size of the world and she won over all of us. If there’s one thing I like about Crystal is she enjoys what she is doing and she is obviously having so. much. fun. It is not common for queens to have this approach to the competition.

Growth

No queen grew during the season as much as Crystal did. Period. The glow up she had was just impressive and extremely pleasing to look at and it makes you feel proud of her. She listened to the judge’s critiques without altering what made her unique and Ru likes that. No choice but to stan.

Storyline

I don’t really like it when fans talk about queens getting the “villain edit” or the “winner edit”, what I do think is queens have a storyline because Drag Race is a tv show after all, so you have to be able to see the queens’ journey from start to finish. Having said that, out of the three finalists Crystal has the best storyline. She is the underdog, the queen you thought was going to leave first, and she fought her way to the top against all odds. 

Age

Just like I said with Gigi, when picking the season’s winner Ru leans towards younger queens. Crystal is 29, and although she is older than Gigi she is the same age Bebe, Sharon, Bob and Sasha were when they won (okay Bebe was 28 but in order for this to work I’m gonna say they were all the same age).

Cons:

Talent

Like Ru said, charisma and uniqueness can only take you so far. Obviously Crystal is a talented queen (she wouldn’t have reached the top if she weren’t), but objectively speaking I think Jaida and Gigi are on a different level than her. She grew a lot, yes, but with her there’s still room for improvement while both Jaida and Gigi are already excellent. I see her more as the lovely runner-up than as America’s Next Drag Superstar.

Record

In terms of record Crystal is the weakest out of the three queens. She came close to being in the bottom a couple of times, she had to lip sync for her life once and it took her a while to warm up, but once she did she stayed in the top. However, her weak start could play against her.

Odd queen

I doubt Ru will have odd queens winning back-to-back seasons, especially since I think Yvie was a better queen than Crystal.

Snatch Game performance

Tyra and Yvie are the only queens who went on to win their season despite performing poorly at the Snatch Game, and although Crystal didn’t have to lip sync for her life she was in the bottom three.

[danetobelieve]

Fairy Lights || Orion and Winston

Note: This happened before the eye chatzy

It was time. It was the day that they had both been waiting for. Winston and Orion had been prepping for this for days now and they finally both had a free day to fully set up the electronics, internet, cable and anything else that Rio wanted in there room. “I’m honestly beyond excited,” Winston said pulling their tool box down from the shelf in the workshop and making their way up the stairs towards Rio’s room, which was now opposite their room and beneath the massive attic that was Ricky’s room, “once we’ve got your room set up then we should definitely start thinking about how you want your corner of the workshop to look, obviously you’re gonna need a tonne of light for all the reading.” 

Orion still wasn’t completely convinced that this hadn’t all been some kind of idealistic day dream. He was almost afraid that at any moment he was going to wake up in his bed, back at the Quinn household being yelled at to get to the guest house for training. But instead, he got to wake up in a bedroom and be greeted by friends and most of the time, breakfast. It all seemed too good to be true sometimes. “I can’t believe this is real,” Rio found himself admitting to Winston, thankful that the resident tech expert was around to help make sure that things were hooked up correctly. For the most part, Rio was decent with technology. He was a computer science major so he hoped that he could function around the stuff. But it was nice to have some that knew for sure what they were doing. Plus it was just a good excuse to hang out with Winston. “I get a corner of the workshop? Woah.” What the heck was he supposed to do there? “Actually, never mind I’ll stress about that after we figure this room out.” 

“You know, living with us really isn’t that great that you’ve got to pretend that you’re in a state of disbelief about it,” Winston teased with a bright smile. Reaching up to their glasses, Winston shifted them for a moment before walking into Rio’s room backwards with their arms full of cables, a monitor and a keyboard. “Yes, you get a corner of the workshop, even if you don’t want to do anything with it I think that Ricky is insisting that we all have a space that we feel is our own. Which is super nice of him.” They had to admit that Ricky had been nothing short of saintlike, for the both of them. “Don’t worry, you don’t need to stress about it, you could even just turn it into the place that you do your college work. I only really use the workshop for college work and working on the technomancy.” They set the box down on Orion’s bed and looked around the sizeable room that had once been a library for Ricky. “So, what do you want to start with?”

 Orion rolled his eyes at Winston’s comment, clearly joking but downplaying how great the two of them had been since Rio has shown up at their door. They had gone way out of their way to make him feel welcome in the home. “I want to get my whole screen area set up first.” He waved in the direction of his desk, hoping to figure all of that out first and foremost. It was the most important part of his room by far. “This laptop basically has my entire life on it, so.” He smiled and waved the thing around for show. “After that I had some ideas... like Bluetooth maybe. Some colorful lights to go around the room. Okay admittedly that’s the end of my creativity. But it’ll be fun regardless! We can figure more things out as we go along.” Rio explained, digging into a bag that he had bought from the store with a few of the supplies and ideas that he had in mind. “My game system is already downstairs so I’m not worried about that I guess. Pretty much as long as the internet works that’s all I need. Ooh and a bookshelf obviously. But let’s start with the desk.”

“Yeah, that was obvious, I should’ve guessed screens first,” Winston replied with a smirk as they started to pull the brackets and mounts that they would need. “So you want like just the one monitor? Two? I think I have a third somewhere and you could always buy a fourth? Like basically we can set this up so that it works however you want.” They understood loving a computer more then yourself, Winston would literally kill someone if they lost their harddrive. It had everything, their research, their magical notes and less importantly their college stuff. “Well, bluetooth and mood lighting are things that we can make happen, and we can definitely hook it all up to the AI system that I am going to write to replace Alexa because I don’t trust Jeff Bezzos as far as I can’t throw him.” They pulled an extension chord from the box and plugged it in. “Can you pass me all of those metal things, I gotta stick the brackets to the wall so that you can adjust your screen height and shit.” They grabbed a screw driver and began rummaging along beneath the desk. “So, how are you settling in?”  

“I- uh, I don’t know” Orion stumbled through, “I’ve never had anything but my laptop screen I guess. I thought I was lucky to get a single monitor I’ve never even thought about getting even more screens.” What could he possibly use that much screen space for? He supposed it would be helpful for research purposes and cross checking. Though he would need to get farther into his project of translating the text before he could ever think about actually using it for research. “I can’t believe you can just build an AI. That’s so cool. And I could totally throw Jeff pretty far, but same.” He laughed and shrugged, tossing the requested metal objects over to Winston and standing off to the side as Winston grabbed a drill and explained that they could hang his monitor. Like on the wall. Winston was way too cool. “You’re joking right?” Rio has strayed away from the desk to take in the room and try to plan how he could hang the lights. He wondered how many lights were too many or if that number existed. “I don’t think I had much of a choice besides settling in. You guys forced me to a burden.” He was joking of course, he was overly gracious for all they had done, “You’re both like the best roommates anyone could ask for. Besides the fact that I’ve been thrown through a window and almost drowned now following you places. Which for the record, I totally did because you went there.”

“Cool so we’ll start with two and then you can decide if you need more, I personally think three is perfect but everyone is different.” Winston worked quickly, it wasn’t that hard really, most ot the work was done for them, all they had to do was mount the struts and attach everything securely to the wall. “I have never actually built an AI before, but I don’t think it should be that much hardwork, plus I’ve got a few side projects going on that mean that it might be easier, I’m kind of toying with a few ideas on incorporating magic into things further, we’ll see I guess.” Winston smirked gently at Orion’s joke, it was a cute joke. Frowning gently, Winston shook their head. “Not joking at all, you’ve seen some of the shit that Ricky makes, drilling holes in walls is nothing.” They laughed gently and shrugged. “Yeah, I think we’re now kind of duty bound to be extra nice to you because we keep putting you in dangerous situations, although, we got some good information from the lake and the mime place, the killer mimes weren’t exactly our fault either, so, it could be worse. We had Skylar over for a dinner party and almost got turned into dinner by the giant crabs that attacked.” 

“Yeah, for sure. It’s a good start.” Orion agreed, staring up at the walls of the ceiling. It wasn’t that the ceilings were unfathomably tall, but Rio was only 5’8. He would need a ladder or some kind of step stool if he had any hope of hanging those lights. “Oh right. Building an AI sounds so easy. Just a day’s work.” Rio stated nonchalantly just as Winston had made it sound. Magic or not, it was impressive. He rested his chin into the palm of his hand, pondering a plan of action. “You’re not duty bound to do anything for my technically speaking, but considering your mime fireballed me…” Rio shrugged watching as Winston worked their magic. Or well, considering Winston really could work magic, Rio supposed Winston was just plain old working right now. But Rio enjoyed watching Winston work. He pretty much enjoyed any time he got to spend with Winston. “Yikes. I can’t say I’m especially heartbroken that I never had to deal much with the creepy karkinoid things. But I’m glad you all weren’t hurt.” He fell back on the bed and continued watching Winston, realizing maybe a bit too late that Winston was working to put Rio’s monitor together for his own room. “I’m literally not doing anything. I should probably lend a hand. Considering it’s my room and all.” He face palmed himself and then jumped off of the bed, “Do you need me to hold something in place or do anything while you drill? Not sure if you heard or not, but I am pretty strong despite the lack of muscles.”

“I mean, the majority of the coding that it would require is probably accessible through open source software libraries, the majority of the other stuff that I would need it to uniquely coded to the home would be difficult, but I can’t see it being completely impossible, plus I really enjoy it so it isn’t like it’s work or anything like that.” Winston shrugged. They’d always found tech so much easier then anything. It just worked for them and they understood how to make it do what they wanted. “Yeah, I feel like if your mime had fireballed me then I would also be pretty pissed, and … sorry that I didn’t tell you about the magic and you had to find out that way. I’m … well believe it or not I am really new to all of this and I don’t really like telling people about the magic because there is a vampire that hunts spellcasters and it’s dangerous…” they swallowed gently and turned back to their work. “But she just thinks I’m good with tech so we’re safe for now.” They paused and sighed. “Thanks, I’m glad that I wasn’t hurt too, and I’m very glad that you got to avoid dealing with them.” Pausing for a second longer, Winston took a long breath and realised they needed something from their kit. “Pass me the pencil in the top of the tool and then can you hold the monitor in place whilst I make sure that it’s all lined up so it isn’t crooked.” Winston marked the various spots on the wall and positioned the drill before beginning on the holes. “Is that because you’re a hunter? Like genetically?” Winston asked curiously. 

“Oh right. Super easy. I think I’ll just do it, since you explained it and everything.” Orion laughed, not even sure where he would possibly begin to try to do something like that, and he had the basics of coding down. He wasn’t great at it, but he understood how it worked. “Don’t sell yourself short. I think you’re super impressive.” Rio assured, his face turning red immediately and trying to backtrack, “it’s. I think it’s super impressive. Like your tech skills is what I meant. Not that you’re not impressive. But like I was talking about it specifically. You know? Okay.” He needed to shut himself up immediately. He welcomed the opportunity to talk about secrets instead. “Please, don’t apologize to me about that. It’s not like I offered up my secret or anything either. You’re not obligated to tell me anything you don’t want to.” Rio was curious by nature, but he didn’t consider himself especially nosey. He liked learning but liked to keep that separate from learning about others private lives. He had learned from his mistake with Skylar. It was their story to tell, not his to seek out. “Right, well make sure to keep your distance. And let me know if she does anything sketchy. Not that I can really do much, but I want to make sure you stay safe.” He didn’t know anything about the witch hunter in town, but knew enough. A hunter was a hunter, no matter what it was that they targeted. They couldn’t be trusted. Rio jumped at the opportunity to help, picking up the monitor in one hand and reaching to grab the pencil with his free hand. He held the monitor up, balancing it against the wall and passed the pencil off. “Yeah. Being born a hunter comes with some perks. Or I guess you could call them perks. Enhanced strength, heightened senses. Night vision. All stuff I can’t really complain about, but wish I never had.”

“I’m sure you would work it out eventually and I could help, it could definitely be a group project.” Winston really liked Orion. He made them laugh. He was kind. He cared about helping other people, so much so that he had rejected a family of hunters because he knew that what they were doing was not right. Winston felt a warm glow over take them and gave Rio a bright smile. “Thanks dude, I’m glad that I impress you so much.” They weren’t sure that they had been called super impressive by anyone. But they knew that they liked it. “Either way, I think you’re trying to compliment me and I’m just going to take it.” Winston paused and nodded. “Okay, thanks, I just, I wanted to explain myself because I would really love to show off to more people but I can’t and I didn’t want you to think that it was because I didn’t trust you, because I cannot express to you how glad I am that I met you watching anime and then I sleep walked in on you and you know, this is awesome. I’m glad you’re here.” Winston was worried that they might have said too much in that moment, but they really enjoyed Orion living with them and they weren’t about to apologise for it. This definitely was not a mistake. “I’ll be fine, I’ve got it under control and Nell wouldn’t let her hurt me and you know then there's everyone else who might help.” Winston paused to consider Rio’s reply. “Just because you were born with gifts that has been used one way, doesn’t mean you can’t use those gifts to help others.”

“Well I definitely wouldn’t say no to a group project. I love helping you with stuff. But I definitely think I’ll let you take charge on the AI thing. I can help clean up coding along the way or something where I’m more involved like in a support role. I can keep the coffee flowing for you.” Orion felt himself blushing, and he was exactly sure why. Of course Winston impressed Rio, he shouldn’t be embarrassed by that. And yet the idea that Rio had something wrong or suggestive was mortifying to him. “I’m definitely complimenting you. Just not like weirdly complimenting you. If that makes sense. I don’t think it does. Let’s ignore that comment.” Oh boy. Now Winston was complimenting Rio. And Rio really didn’t know how to handle that. He couldn’t imagine how red his face must be at the moment. “I- uh feel the same way. Seriously, I just am really bad at expressing it apparently. But like... you sorta changed my entire life, when you accidentally strolled into the Scribe building, so I can’t thank you enough for your friendship and stuff.” His mouth felt dry as he tried to express his gratitude to Winston. Winston was a majority of the reason that Rio had finally gotten the courage to leave, and was certainly part of the reason he had made the progress he had with the Scribe building. It felt weird expressing feelings like this, but Rio didn’t mind it. “Good. I think you’re pretty capable by yourself, but it makes me feel better that Nell knows about it too. She’s awesome.” Winston made the same argument that others had made for Rio’s abilities, and of course they were right. Rio wished he could separate the powers from the family, to make himself hate the gifts a little less. “It just doesn’t seem fair. This... I don’t know what to call it. Curse? That doesn’t sound right either. But I just wish I was a normal human sometimes.”

“Cool, well, I’ll see what needs doing around here and if we think of something else we can work on that too.” Winston wasn’t going to say no to help, nor a chance to hang with Rio. They listened carefully, patiently to everything that Orion had to say. They were maybe the only person that they had ever met who stumbled over their own words as much as Winston did. “I get it, you’re complimenting me.” They smiled. Rio didn’t make them feel nervous or uncomfortable. Not like so many other people in this supernatural world. Miriam, Deirdre, hell even Athena. Not to mention all the other weirdos that were out there. Hunters, Slayers, Wardens, they were all just a piece of the puzzle but none of that seemed to factor into it with Rio. “Don’t worry, sometimes explaining things is easier … well I was going to say said then done but that’s not helpful,” they laughed and shrugged, “I get it. We’re both happier now we’re doing this shit. It’s cool.” They smiled and turned back to their drilling, placing the wall bracket and beginning to mount the monitors. “Curse seems dramatic, but I think you’re looking at it in the wrong light. You’re not a weapon or a tool, you’re a person. Sure, you’re not /entirely/ human but these days who is? I know i’m not, you now know for sure that Ricky is also … not. Some of my best friends are barely even a little human. The world sucks, and you’ve got super strength and regeneration? I don’t think that’s a curse at all. Sounds a lot more like a blessing to me. Not just for you, but everyone else that you decide to help with it. 

Despite the way Orion seemed to specialize at stuffing his foot in his mouth, seemed to understand what Rio was trying to say. Rio enjoyed how much the two had in common. He had made a good amount of friends the last few months, and they were all the kind of people that Rio never thought he would actually have made friends with. Winston was one of the few that Rio seemed to have a lot in common with. But for fear of embarrassing himself again, Rio decided that they two had already had their heart to heart. So instead of trying to form some sappy response, Rio laughed and nodded at Winston and focus on the human topic instead. “I don’t know what you mean, when have I ever been dramatic?” Rio asked innocently. He would reign a halo if one of his hands wasn’t be used to hold a monitor in place. “But yeah, I get your point. It’s weird. I want everyone that’s not human to embrace themselves and understand that they’re not a monster or evil like the narrative tells them. And then I can’t do it for myself.” For some reason, when Winston said it Rio actually wanted to believe the words. “Thank you, seriously. I really want to help. And I know you do too. I don’t really know much about your world. Magic and all. I’d love to learn more about it. Like your experience with it, I mean.”

“Well, there was the time that someone threw a fireball at you, there was the time that we were running from that mime spider, there was the time that you arrived at our house drenched from the rain because you’d been too dramatic to ask us to pick you up…” Winston scratched their chin in faux confusion, “need I go on?” They smirked gently, hoping that Rio would take the teasing in the good natured manner that it had been given. They finished placing the monitor on the wall and settled on the desk for a moment, drawing their knees up under their chin and drumming their long fingers against the wooden top. “Sometimes the hardest advice to accept is your own, believe me, I learned that one the hard way.” They pulled themselves to their feet and wandered over to the bed to take a good look at it from a distance. “That looks straight? Right?” Winston should probably get a spirit level, but if Rio couldn’t notice then they wouldn’t have to. “I mean, dude, I don’t know what to say, there isn’t that much to tell, I’ve been doing it for just more then five months now and for the first three months I was stumbling along uselessly in the dark. The last two months, well we’re getting there but I’ve still got a very long way left to go.” Winston shrugged gently and began hooking up the LAN cable that they’d need to hardwire Orion’s computer into the internet. “You probably have more experience then me.” 

“Ha ha. Very funny.” Rio faked a laugh in Winston’s direction and tried to go for a fake pouting face. “I don’t see how the fireball thing was my fault. Okay well I guess I was the one that actually dove through the window, but that was the only way I could think to get away from it.” He defended himself, though he was grinning the whole time. “Yeah, so I’ve heard. Not sure I’ve ever taken my own advice to find out for myself.” He shrugged. He meant it as a joke to keep the mood light, but his tone felt flatter than it had before. Self esteem issues were no fun, especially when he was trying to tone them down. He knew how Ricky got around self deprecation and he was trying to avoid anymore compliment battles with him in the kitchen. When Winston got everything screwed in they both took a step away and tried to figure out if everything was hanging properly, “I don’t know. I feel like we covered that I don’t really understand straight very well.” Rio tried to remain serious for effect, but was giggling by the end of the sentence. He needed to brighten the mood a bit. “Got it. So this world is all pretty much new to you then?” Rio asked them, absentmindedly pushing at the mounted monitor to see just how easy it was to adjust it. That was way cool. “I’ve known about the supernatural for as long as I can remember. I never knew much about witches aside from the existing. There were a few that helped out hunters sometimes but besides that all I know is how strong they can be. I’m glad you’re getting a better handle on it though.”

“In your defense, if someone threw a fireball at me then I would also probably leap through a giant pane of glass in an attempt to get away from it.” Winston smirked gently, Rio was cute. That grin was very cute, even if it was shit eating. “Well, maybe you should break that bad habit and for the first time in your life you should take your own advice, I know that seems like a novel thought but who knows what you would be able to do if you took some advice better then my own for once?” It was Winston’s turn to grin now. Rio was actually really funny when you let him get out of his shell. He was smart too. “Ha, you kill me dude,” Winston adjusted their glasses and shook their head as they laughed. “Literally dude, I found out that werewolves were real less then five months ago, maybe slightly more at this point but fuck, yeah, all super new, all super terrifying.” They were still wrapping their head around their new reality and there were many days where Winston simply sat there wondering what the hell had gone on to make all of this happen. “I’m starting to learn a lot more and there are lots of paths to take, like a coven asked if I wanted to join, I said know, but you know that’s always an option.” Winston perched on the end of the bed. “It’s pretty scary sometimes, this, whole deal, but then people like you are always here to help and … that really helps.” 

“You know, sometimes I take Ricky’s advice too. Works about as well as yours.” Orion seemed to be making some progress, as far as his anxiety went. He felt more comfortable around Ricky and Winston daily. He was able to joke around with them, hang out with them while feeling relatively at ease. He was even able to play some of his games around them, which he had never been comfortable enough with before. He had always enjoyed watching them play games, but had always talked himself out of playing any himself while they were there. “Yeah… that’s a lot to take in all at once.” Rio couldn’t imagine the culture shock. Once it began, it all poured in at once too it seemed. That must have been a pretty stressful time. “I think you’ve handled it all really well though. Considering everything.” And he wasn’t lying about that, Rio wouldn’t have known that Winston had just learned about the supernatural without Winston telling him just now. He really seemed like a natural. “But uh, you know I’ll always help however I can… Can I ask why you said no to the coven?”

“Ricky’s advice is usually better then mine,” Winston replied with a smirk, “he usually knows when something is a bad idea, I just don’t usually do anything that will probably get me killed. Usually. Ok, maybe it is the other way around.” Winston was glad that they were beginning to see Rio come out of his shell a little bit more, of all of the people who were new to their life Winston was beyond glad that Rio was among them. He was important. “Yeah, I won’t lie, it was a bit of a change, but some of it has been really cool. Like, I find it difficult to really find a good reason to complain about being given the ability to cast magic spells, there are much worse things that someone could have to deal with let’s be real.” Winston smirked gently and shrugged. “Thanks dude, it is what it is, can’t change any of it now, just got to keep going you know.” They considered it for a second. “The person who invited me, it’s their coven, like they’ve always been part of it and we’re really good friends, I just, I want this journey to be mine. I worry that joining a coven would get political and plus coven’s have rules and no offense, I kind of don’t want to be restricted by more rules.”

“Well we’ve lived through everything. So I think that’s all that matters.” Orion shrugged. Putting himself in danger wasn’t exactly Rio’s favorite thing to do. Nor did it make any of his top ten lists. But for Winston? Rio supposed he could make an exception or two. Rio was pretty sure he’d do just about anything for his roommates at this point. Especially because someone needed to be the levelheaded one. “The supernatural world can be really cool. Besides all the, like horrors and dangers of it.” Rio found his fascination with the subject was hard to explain. On one hand, he loved learning about the supernatural and their cultures. On the other hand, he knew that they had to live in fear. Of people exactly like Rio. “But it’s awesome learning about what others can do and what makes them unique.” And that was all he really wanted, and it seemed like his beliefs lined up pretty well with Winston’s too which was nice. “I’ve never thought of it that way, but I get it. You deserve that time to grow for yourself.” Rio wished there was a way that he could help Winston more. Maybe they could find some more information on magic at the Scribe building to share. Something that could help them learn about magic without the need for a coven. “Besides, a coven is just like a… family you know? And you already have that.” Wow that was corny. Rio sighed at himself, rubbing at his temples and now digging through the bag to pull out the lights he had bought. “I need a step stool if I’m supposed to be tall enough to hang these.”

Swallowing, Winston shrugged and looked to the rest of the room. They still had work ahead of them, but it wasn’t as if this was difficult. “I just wish it was less violent, maybe that’s naive of me but I just don’t see why everyone is so insistent on killing each other all of the time. Like, we get it, you don’t like each other. Chill out please.” Fiddling with their glasses, Winston straightened them on their face once more and shrugged. “Exactly, I’ve got my own coven; though most of them aren’t witches. It’s not even just the whole family thing though, I don’t know. There feels something different or difficult about it, I’m not ready for that step yet.” Winston bit their lip as they tried to think of how to explain it. Nell’s coven just left a bad feeling in their stomach. Winston looked up at the ceiling and tried to think of the best way that they would be able to do this. “Can you like lay out on the floor how you want your fairy lights because I’ve got a cool idea that I want to try out, but I need to know how you want it to look first?” 

“You and me both. But it won’t stop. Or well… they won’t stop.” Orion wished that it would of course, but he knew that it was just wishful thinking. The hunters would never give up on their quest.  They were too sanctimonious. Convinced that they had some right above others to extinguish life from this planet. It wasn’t fair or right, but they couldn’t be convinced of that. Of course, Rio wasn’t completely blind. They knew that the supernatural could be dangerous too. It was all a messed up situation. “I get it. And sorry… to bring it up and all. I support whatever you want to do.” At Winston’s suggestion, Rio knelt down, arranging the lights along in a row. “Maybe some kind of strings like this? I thought it might be cool to have a single wall of them that I could hang pictures or something on. I don’t know. I can obviously get the lower stuff but the top of the wall won’t be easy.

“It won’t stop if people take that attitude to it,” Winston replied with a shrug, “but it does suck, no one needs to be dealing with someone hunting and hating them just because of what they are.” Winston paused for a second and wondered how they would actually ever be able to effect real change on such a dangerous and difficult world. “Thanks, that means a lot. I don’t think I will do anything, at least not yet.” There was still too much for them to learn. There were so many points of view in the supernatural world and Winston didn’t want to become biased. “Cool, okay, let me try something new.” They smiled and grabbed the end of the fairy lights, plugging them into the wall, they flicked the switch on. Pausing for a moment before reaching out carefully, Winston extended their presence and will. Feeling the flow of energy surging through the wires and illuminating the tiny bulbs, Winston began to move the wire. It wiggled a little as they got used to the motion before carefully beginning to snake it’s way up the side of the wall before settling in place. “Like that?” 

“I don’t mean to be a buzzkill,” Orion started. He didn’t know how to explain it to Winston without sounding even more pessimistic. That people like his family wouldn’t stop until they were stopped. And Rio hadn’t figured out how to do that yet. “I just- I don’t know. Sorry. I don’t really want to be the kind of person that thinks that way. It’s just hard, I guess.” He didn’t really know what he was saying anymore. Rio was happy to focus instead on the lights, which Winston was putting up… like with their mind. “Holy woah.” Rio held his hand up towards the wall but stopped himself before getting in the way of Winston’s magic. “This is perfect. I can’t believe that you can just… do this y’know? That’s so cool!”

“It’s cool, I get it. The stuff you’ve experienced has tinegd your perception and I would probably feel the same. But I’ve got to believe that we can change things. Otherwise I have to live in a world I don’t like.” Winston wasn’t about to sit idly anymore. They could affect real change. “I get it though.” Winston felt a bead of sweat trickle down the side of their temple. They could feel the exhaustion in them. A shortness in their breath. They were still getting used to magic and show off had taken it’s slight toll. “Thanks, I’m still fucking around with the tech magic, but I think there’s some real potential outside of wire hanging.” Winston couldn’t help but grin. It felt good to impress Orion. 

“No, you’re right. And I want things to be like that too. I just haven’t figured out how that’s possible.” Orion wanted to be like Winston, positive thinking and not willing to withstand any less than. How did Rio get himself to be like that? “Yet, at least.” Maybe the trick was to just stick around with Winston. That was assuming Winston didn’t get them killed first. Rio was staring at the wall, watching as the lights snaked across the wall. But he heard the change in Winston’s breath. He turned around, noticing the swear pooling on their face. “Are you okay?” Rio moved back over towards Winston to get a better look. “Is that what using the magic does to you?” Rio questioned. It made sense, thinking about it. The energy for the spells had to come from somewhere. But was it dangerous? It had to be, if overused. “You need water or something?”

“I don’t know either, but we’ll work something out and see if we can change things, but I know that’s not super likely.” Winston shrugged gently and smiled, it was a hard road but it was nice that they had friends along with them to help them along the way. Winston just hoped that it all worked out in the end. Though they weren’t sure how they would. “Yeah, I’m okay, I kind of need to keep trying to flex the magical muscles as much as I can so that I can develop more and keep the stuff going, I don’t know if that makes sense.” Winston shrugged and looked at their shoes. “Magic requires energy, I have a theory about using electricity to power magic but right now that isn’t the point, when I use magic, the energy comes from me which is exhausting. But this was worth it.” 

“I think if anybody can do it, it’s probably you. Or well, us I mean. Like us working together.” Orion shrugged. He still wasn’t incredibly optimistic. But he knew that if he thought there was a world that could change. It started with people like Winston and Blanche, others that were excited to learn about the supernatural and embrace the differences instead of fearing and condemning it. “And by us I mean like… all of us. Blanche and Ricky and Nell and others too.” Rio listened to Winston explain about the magic using up energy. He wasn’t going to pretend to understand how it would work to use technology to power magic, but Winston didn’t seem to have all the answers yet either. Rio would just let Winston work on that. “Do you exercise a lot?” Rio found himself asking. “Uh- Well having the enhanced strength and senses that hunters have, we expend a lot of energy when we do stuff. So we tend to have big appetites and get tired out quickly. So one of the big things that we are taught is training up endurance. So that you can go longer when the time comes. Maybe we could… try something like that? The more physical endurance and energy you have, I bet the same goes for your magical ability potential.”

“Well it isn’t like that is a lot of pressure to put on one guy, so let’s go with working together. But yeah, I think we can make a change. Winston bit their lip for a second and gazed at Rio thoughtfully, they were a good friend and maybe a better person. Winston paused for a moment and nodded. “I get it, we all have to pull our weight if this is going to work.” They shrugged gently and shook their head. “I know it looks like I’m super unfit but I’m also slightly asthmatic which makes exercise … interesting, so, you know I try and work out, but yeah, it would probably be a good idea to do it more…”

Orion still had doubts, for sure. He was skeptical that there was any chance he could convince the hunters that things could change. But he knew hunters that had already started to doubt the way of life. Maybe it wasn’t as far off as Rio thought it was. “It sounds really cheesy right? But whatever. Someone has to do it, I guess.” He wanted to stay positive for Winston and for Blanche and others that actually wanted the change. “I don’t think you look unfit” Rio mumbled, hoping that didn’t sound weird to say to them. “But uh- swimming! We could try swimming? Swimming is specifically recommended to those who have asthma. Sometimes chlorinated swimming pools can though so we would want to be careful with that.” Rio trailed off, thinking of places that they could try out. “I guess the ocean, but the place doesn’t seem like the safest right now.”

“I’m sure we can think of something, but usually I’m fine around pools. Besides it’s not like I’m going to die of an asthma attack any day now, it’s just something I have to manage. Usually it’s not even a huge problem at all, but yeah, it would be cool to do something like that with you.” Winston smiled gently and nodded, swimming was something that they could manage. Although the last time that they had been in water it hadn’t ended well, they were sure that wasn’t going to happen everytime.

[you-guys--are-losers]

Can you write a fic about MJ ranting to Betty about her crush on Peter

//You know I can, and I will. ;) I actually even have a part two planned for this, so thanks so much for a prompt that I know I can build off of! I’m really excited to dig into this. 

a momentary lapse

summary: when mj gets stuck waiting out a psychotic water monster, she finds her tongue is as slippery as the venetian streets when it comes to peter parker. 

characters: michelle jones x peter parker, betty brant x ned leeds, flash thompson, abe brown, cindy moon, mr. harrington

word count: 2,730

warnings: mildly homicidal tidal wave, teenage angst, unintentional fluff

mj is the first to admit it: she doesn’t exactly have the best track record with school trips

there was the decathlon trip to d.c., for starters, in which their team single-handedly blew a hole in one of america’s monuments to its morally-grey history (not such a bad outcome) and got themselves stuck in a burning elevator (admittedly, a problem) 

then there was the fact that they screwed up so bad spider-man found it necessary to haul ass all the way out to washington (although mj has her own opinions on that particular coincidence– but that is a discussion for another time) 

at the time, mj had figured that one near-death experience on a school trip would be enough for a lifetime

so, when the literal ocean decides to attack them in venice, mj will admit that she is caught slightly unprepared

she first realizes what’s going on when there is a near miss involving ned, betty, and a gondola

the soaking wet couple stumbles out of the boat, and then they are ushered into the crowd, along with mj, searching for somewhere sheltered from the water in the city that is literally built into the sea

there are bodies pushing around them on every side, all of the people struggling to get away from the murderous lazy river that is trying to drag them into the depths

“flash, stop video-taping this!” shouts abe over the ruckus, causing mj to glance over her shoulder at her classmates

“someone needs to know that the ocean is attacking us!” flash shouts back in response, adding, “it could be aliens, or-” 

“or maybe you should put away the phone and concentrate on running for your life!” cindy snaps, shoving her way past flash

“alright, children, please stay calm,” mr. harrington calls in a shrill voice that is decidedly not calm, “everything is going to be alright. emergency services have been contacted-” 

“and how are they gonna get here?” flash asks shrilly, adding, “oh, right. by boat!”

at that moment, the group turns down another alley, meeting with another rush of people running for their escape

mj doesn’t realize that she is being separated from her companions until it is almost too late

at the last second, her hand shoots out and grabs betty’s

mj links her fingers together with the girl’s, her eyes meeting the panicked gaze of the blonde

when she turns to look for the rest of the group, mj finds that they are gone, swallowed up in a crowd of unfamiliar faces

the shoving is getting worse, and for one dangerous moment mj fears that she is going to slip on the cobblestones and end up underfoot; then, her eyes find a sheltered side street behind a cafe, as well as a dumpster they should be able to use as shelter

mj tugs fiercely on betty’s hand to get her attention, and the girl’s panicked gaze locks on hers, goes to focus on the hiding spot, then travels back to mj’s own eyes with new understanding

after mj is sure betty understands, she pulls herself free of the crowd, holding tight to her classmate as she makes a beeline for shelter

betty weaves through the crowd quickly, and in a flash the girls find themselves crouched beneath a tall, cardboard box leaning against the trash, breathing heavily

for a moment, that’s all either can do: squat under the cardboard, fighting to catch their breath and still their pounding hearts

and then, betty begins rifling through her soaking purse for her phone, breathing, “we need to call someone. mr. harrington, or maybe flash, or… ned!” 

betty’s voice goes shrill on the final name as she releases mj’s hand, bringing both hands to cup her cheeks

“i can’t believe i lost him! oh, my gosh… what if something happens to him? i need to text him, or else he’s going to worry.” 

before she can look for her phone again, mj rests a hand on betty’s arm

“you should probably wait,” mj reasons slowly, “i’m sure he’s running, like the rest of them. you don’t want him to stop and look at his phone when you call, or else he might get hurt. he needs to focus.” 

“you’re right,” betty pants, running a hand through her soaking wet hair. “i just can’t believe… well, i’m sure you know how it feels. you have brad to worry about.” 

something strange tingles in mj’s stomach in response to what her classmate has said, and mj finds her eyes widening

“what?” she questions, eyes narrowing slightly as she presses, “wait, there’s– there’s nothing going on between me and brad. i don’t feel… no, it’s not like that.” 

betty’s eyes are surprisingly sharp as she fixes them on mj, raising an eyebrow

“oh… okay,” she says slowly, though her voice sounds rather unconvinced

“i just thought, because you’ve been sitting next to him on the plane and the bus and stuff-” 

“um, yeah, we’re just friends,” mj responds quickly, tucking a curl behind her ear and turning to watch the crowd outside of the alleyway

the sound of rushing water and screaming is all that can be heard between the two of them for a moment, and mj does not look away from the chaos out there

even if they’re safe, their classmates might not be, and then there’s peter–

well, at least, she thinks there is

but if mj is anywhere close to being right, then he is far too close to that thing for comfort, and the very thought sends her stomach lurching. 

“well, who is it, then?” 

betty’s question causes mj’s gaze to snap to the blonde immediately, dragging her out of her thoughts. 

“um, no one,” mj replies quickly

“you’re looking awfully worried for that to be true,” betty reasons, eyes narrowing slightly

mj hasn’t noticed it before, but there’s just a little too much sharp cunning in them for her liking

“i mean, half our class is out there,” mj reasons, but betty raises a hand to stop her

“we both know that you would probably throw a party if flash drowned, and you just said yourself that there’s nothing between you and brad,” betty counters firmly 

mj averts her gaze, fixing it determinedly on the cobblestones between them 

“venice was traditionally a city of people running from something,” mj pipes up after a moment, the words coming in a quick, focused, stream

“people only started living here when rome fell and a bunch of warrior clans were like, ‘hey, cool, we’re just gonna start attacking things.’ so all the people were like, ‘shoot, better go somewhere they can’t reach us. well, these guys suck at building boats.’ so… venice. kind of ironic that people came here because they were running away, and now that we’re here we’re all running away, too. it’s like poetic justice, kind of showing how no matter how much you do in life, you’re never gonna change much-” 

“you can’t distract me with your existentialism,” betty interrupts

mj falls silent immediately, cursing mentally as she listens to the sound of the gears turning in betty’s brain

“i know you’ve got someone,” betty continues

the statement is simple, declarative, and it doesn’t really demand more, and in the quiet that stretches between them, mj finds herself feeling drained and exhausted

they’re miles and miles away from home, crouched behind a dumpster while a popped water wiener is terrorizing venice

peter parker is probably fighting that thing right now in his onesie, and mr. harrington is talking to their travel planners on the phone about whether or not there’s a discount for situations where the canals literally come to life

flash is without a doubt live streaming the whole thing

in the wake of all that, mj figures, what does it matter? 

she’s been hiding her stupid feelings for years, and no one’s figured it out; she might as well give just enough information to appease betty, and there’s no need to mention names

there’s no reason to get deep on anything, especially when it’s so confusing and likely not reciprocated, right? 

“i guess,” mj says simply, pointedly staring out into the alleyway

beside her, betty lets out a light squeal, clasping her hands together, and mj has to bite back a groan 

“i knew it!” the girl declares, waving a finger in mj’s direction with a grin

“i so knew it. i knew my investigative journalism skills were right– they always are. and being in such a solid, healthy relationship has definitely given me a sense for these kinds of things; i think that’s what separates a woman from a girl, you know? and-” 

mj lets betty ramble on for a bit, sitting with a stoic face as she listens to the disturbance from afar

something about this feels… strange

it takes mj a moment to realize that this is the first time she’s admitted it, and then suddenly she finds herself a little bit breathless

“-so, how does it feel?” 

mj isn’t expecting the question, so when her eyes return to the soaking-wet blonde, she can’t help but feel like she has been snapped back into the present and everything is taking a minute to focus

“what?” 

“you know, how does it feel?” betty presses

“to have a person like that in your life? i mean, you can’t have had too many– you’re too calm and stuff for that kind of thing.” 

mj decides, in the moment, not to analyze that particular comment

instead, she considers betty’s previous question and tries not to feel too much like she’s been put on the spot for an interview

“um… i mean, i don’t think there’s a way that you’re supposed to feel,” she says slowly

“but pretty basic. i mean, with like fluttery chest and stuff. it’s whatever.” 

mj tries not to think about what she’s just said, but now that she’s let the words pass her lips, it’s a little bit hard

because it’s true: every time she catches him looking at her, her heart leaps and sputters like a revving engine, just about making her jump out of her skin

and every conversation with him that is unplanned is smooth and easy, like a road she knows how to drive like the back of her hand

and every awkward interaction somehow feels like a learning curve, like driving a new, unfamiliar car but knowing you’ll get the hang of it-

alright, maybe she’s taking the car metaphor too far, it’s kind of sounding like a rascal flatts song 

luckily, betty interrupts her train of thought before mj can take herself down a dead-end

“that’s so sweet,” betty decides, tipping her head slightly to the side

“you know, i don’t think i felt that way about my ned at first… but then, once i really got to know him, i started to get all the butterflies and everything. sometimes, i think, they come with time.” 

the absurdity of it all strikes mj in that moment: the two of them are literally hiding from a water golem behind a dumpster, and for some reason, they’re talking about boys

way to fail the bechdel test in real life, mj. 

but, as mj considers the situation they are in, she decides that maybe they are doing the right thing

after all, it’s keeping their minds away from the almost inevitable destruction of an ancient city with them in it, so they might as well do what they can to keep calm, right? 

it is for this reason, and no other, that mj decides to keep going 

“yeah, that makes sense,” mj agrees nonchalantly

she considers it for a second, though, and in the moment she finds herself simply letting loose

“i think mine were pretty immediate, though.” 

and, as mj thinks it over, she realizes it’s true

peter has had the same effect on her since the day she first saw him, when he ran into their freshman bio class half a second before the bell rang with a stupidly flustered look on his face

even then, when he was scrawny and short and squeaky-voiced, he was capable of releasing a bunch of fluttering fruit bats loose in her chest, filling her with panicked, beating wings

and even now, what is technically seven years later, that hasn’t changed

sure, he’s got abs now, and he’s got the arachnoid fursona to think about

but he’s still peter, and she still feels just the same as she did when she was a freshman in the back of the class, not yet having learned that no one gives a crap and still trying to figure everything out 

“it hasn’t changed,” mj finds herself admitting, “even though i have, i guess.” 

betty’s eyes flash with delight, and the words leave her mouth so quickly that mj isn’t convinced she is breathing: “ohmygosh. is this a long-term crush we’re talking?” 

mj pauses, strangely uncertain, but with betty’s eyes burning into her skull, she finds herself admitting it

“i mean, i guess so.” 

betty goes off on a rant, but mj isn’t really listening to it now

something settles over mj, cold and heavy, rather like a chill

it takes mj a moment to realize that betty has stopped talking and is now studying her

“what is it?” the blonde asks simply, and mj is surprised by the open seriousness in betty’s face

perhaps it is this candid side the blonde is showing that causes mj to reply 

“it’s the first time i’ve talked about it. not that it’s a big deal or anything.” 

betty’s eyes widen in surprise, but she doesn’t stop mj as she continues 

“but hearing myself say it aloud and everything? i mean, it makes it all sound kind of stupid.” 

betty doesn’t bother to hide her surprise, but rather than countering mj’s statement, she simply says, “why?”

mj mulls it over, considering

after a slight pause, she finally says, “it just doesn’t make sense.” 

“it kind of makes me feel like a loser. i’ve been hung up on this one thing for so long– i mean, it’s dumb. it’s not logical or anything, so i really should just move on… i’m an independent person.” 

betty’s eyes are narrowed and calculating as they meet mj’s own brown irises, and the question that she poses with such intensity nearly causes mj to lose her cool: 

“who says that it’s stupid just because it doesn’t make sense?” 

mj swallows thickly, glancing away, but betty isn’t done

“in fact, that might be exactly why it does make sense. because it doesn’t. sometimes, feelings like that just work that way.” 

feelings like that… 

for a moment, mj rolls the phrase around in her mind, and she finds herself straightening up slightly

feelings like that, feelings like-

alright, maybe that’s a bit much for one day

but something about the thought, maybe we don’t have to make sense, is strangely freeing

for just a moment, mj sits up a little straighter beneath the dumpster, drawing in a deep breath

she doesn’t have to make sense: she doesn’t owe it to anyone to be predictable, and she never has

in fact, mj has thrived in the face of unpredictability and instability her whole life, so maybe betty’s right

maybe, the fact that she and peter don’t make sense is exactly what makes it feel so right

and maybe, those feelings that betty is talking about could one day turn into… 

“i mean, look at ned and me. we weren’t exactly the likeliest couple– i was independent, ready to face the world, and he was a bachelor without any sense of direction in his romantic life. but all it took was one plane ride, some luck, and a little bit of fate, and now, here we are-” 

mj tunes out for most of the speech that follows, and as betty goes on, she can hear the sound of the chaos in the distance subsiding

and so, as the waters settle and the storm calms, mj finds a little bit of strength left in the wake of all the destruction

because maybe, just maybe, she’s opened herself up a little bit more to the uncertain and improbable

and maybe, because she’s allowed herself one foolish moment of vulnerability, she’s shaping up to be a bit stronger for it. 

[justmythots8]

Five Rules On How To Deal With A PR Crisis:

1) - Take Responsibility - the outcome of your reputation & image comes down to this first step. Do not try and point fingers. I repeat, do not try and point fingers! Take responsibility for your own actions. Respond to criticism. And keep the conversation positive. Don’t argue with critics. Don’t continue to dig the hole deeper. Remember Roseanne Barr’s PR scandal, involving a racial comment to a former Obama adviser? Yea, how well did that work out for her? She was fired from her hit TV show, effective immediately. At first, ABC was considering canceling the entire show altogether! But, the drama didn’t stop there; Rosanne went on trying to defend herself, claiming she had taken Ambien for sleep the night of that career-altering Tweet, claiming that she was “Not a racist, just an idiot who made a bad joke”. To add insult to injury, the pharmaceutical company Sanofi, the makers of Ambien, jumped in on the conversation tweeting this: “While all pharmaceutical treatments have side effects, racism is not a known side effect of any Sanofi medication”. After Big Pharma joined the narrative, Rosannes mis-step had already gone viral. But after Sanofi got involved, the internet literally went berserk. Something that could have been avoided, had Rosanne kept her mouth shut about her comments. A heart-felt apology was all that she should have offered.

2) - Be Authentic - Now is not the time to try and manipulate your way out of the mess you’ve created. It’s also not wise to state conflicting accounts. Confusion is never received well. People don’t want to feel like they’re being misled, or manipulated. It really is as simple as taking responsibility for your actions, and issuing a genuine apology. Remember that Pepsi commercial, featuring Kendall Jenner fiasco? In the commercial, Pepsi gave the impression that the Black Lives Matter riots could be solved with handing an angry officer a nice, cold Pepsi. That’s so amazing, the poster of Pepsi! Why hadn’t I thought of that sooner? While many thought there was nothing wrong with Pepsi’s message, saying they thought it represented unity during a time of restlessness. Others were not so impressed, understandably so. People were being shot & killed by police, no apparent reason. Because of their skin color, and maybe because of the way they were dressed, or the kind of car they drive. Pepsi eventually admitted that they “Missed the mark”, but not before trying to publicly defend themselves, which didn’t go over too well with critics. In these situations, it’s best to just take accountability, apologize, and move on.

3) - Screw strategies - don’t wait until you’ve got a full-blown crisis on your hands before addressing the incident(s). Don’t take your good ol’ time trying to come up with the perfect strategy. This is instant reputation suicide. Recall the Queen after Diana died? The British public were enraged and offended that their Queen hadn’t issued a statement acknowledging Diana’s death. This left them feeling alone and isolated. Act fast!

4) - Be Genuine - People can see through bullshit. They can tell when they’re being manipulated or deceived. When you are dealing with an already enraged public, the last thing you want to do is add fuel to the fire. Be honest. Be relatable. And most importantly, be genuine. Peoples’ intuitions are quite perceptive these days. If you make a half-hearted apology, or point fingers at others for your mistakes, you are just making yourself look worse, and sabotaging your own reputation. When customers over at Yankee Candle started complaining to the company that their very expensive candles did not have the same intense scent-throw that Yankee Candles are beloved for, Yankee’s CEO at the time publicly came out and said that people didn’t care about the scent of their candles, claiming customers cared more about the design label & the exotic names of their scents. As you can imagine, this didn’t go over too well with Yankee Candle fans. Fun fact: the CEO who made this statement has since been replaced. 3 years later, and Yankee is still suffering the fallout of that CEO’s ignorant statement. Brand trust was compromised.

5) - Ask yourself “Why do I keep having so many PR faux pas”? - In my opinion, it seems like it would take more effort to keep having issues, than it would to just take a beat and disappear from the media, while the dust settles. This included ALL media platforms, like social media. You have enough press to deal with right now. You don’t need any more, whether that be good, bad, or indifferent. Recall the “Varsity Blues” college bribe scandal involving popular social media influencer Olivia Jade & her B list actress mother, Lori Laughlin? They didn’t mess around when that scandal hit headlines. Olivia went silent on social media, as did her mother. They have not been heard from at all. Even though Olivia has millions of subscribers on her YouTube channel, she has not uploaded another video since. This is the epitome of crisis PR management! Because they have been so silent, and have not created waves by giving opinionated interviews, they have virtually disappeared from headlines, and no one is talking about Varsity Blues anymore. Take a page from Olivia Jade, Meghan. At 18, she’s wise beyond her years.

These two need to start listening to the public’s criticism. They have failed miserably to acknowledge the people and their concerns. Social media isn’t working. Petitions aren’t working. Standing outside of the palace yelling “Charlatan Duchess” isn’t working. Would they notice if we sent smoke signals? Probably not. But we would get called “racists” for sending them.

[bees-for-the-wildmother]

The 100 Ask Game

I was tagged by the wonderful @thehundredtimesobsessed​ forever ago (or what feels like it, but I’m finally getting around to it today.

1. What Station on the Ark would you be from?

Probably Agro. My mom’s side of the family definitely has a green thumb.

2. What would you get arrested for on the Ark?

Umm...theft?

3. Would you take off your wristband when you landed on the ground?

No. No, I would not.

4. What would the Necklace Finn would make for you look like? (Clarke: deer/Raven: a raven duh…)

DRAGON!  Dragons are my favorite.  Followed by red pandas, but I feel like a dragon would be better (I already own a few dragon necklaces).

5. If you could resurrect any MINOR character who would it be?

Roan kom Azgeda - I miss him. <<< Same.  Possibly Wells, but I became much more attached to Roan (probably because he had more episodes)

6. Create a squad by of 5 characters to go on missions with. Who are they?

Bellamy, Clarke, Raven, Monty, and Murphy.  (This was basically pick your five favorite characters for me...)

7. What Grounder Clan would you belong to?

Podakru - the Lake People...I’m just going on that based on where I live, i.e. a place where there are lakes

8.  What would your name be in Trigedasleng? (example: Octavia=Okteivia…just make it up!)

Shilbi, I think that’s what they’d do with it.  I literally looked up to see if they even had a “sh” sound in their language; right when I was about to lose hope and resigning myself to “Silbi” or the like, I found a phrase with “sh”.

9. Thoughts on Finn? Some people hate him, and others love him, so I’m curious

I didn’t like him from the beginning. I didn’t hate him initially, but he got two people killed yet survived his own idiocy or taking off his seat belt. I thought he was going to be a detriment to their survival because he would take stupid unnecessary risks to show off.

10. Be honest. How willing would you have been to take the chip without knowing all the horrible things it does?

Probably not.  My dad yells and me and my mom because we always need answers to motivations and the why of things.  I don’t think I would put something in my body without fully knowing what it is and the ramifications of taking it.

11. What character do you relate to most?

I want to say Harper, but also some Clarke.  In Harper, I see a lot of the traits I like about myself; in Clarke, I see a lot of the traits I don’t like about myself.

12. What character do you like the least?

This is difficult...I feel like it’s a cop out to say one of the villains of the show, but it’d probably be Cage Wallace.  I don’t know who it’d be out of the people who are still alive.

13. Describe your delinquent outfit. (Would you wear something like Murphy’s jacket with the spikey red shoulder patch or have a trademark like Jasper’s goggles? Be creative, yet practical)

Charcoal grey jeans with a forest green v-neck t-shirt that has those criss-crossed strips of fabric, a dark brown leather jacket, and brown combat boots.

14. Favorite type of mutant animal?

...I don’t know...a mutant fox?

15. What would your job be on the Ark?

Probably like historian, archives, or teacher or something (based on my real life career path).

16. Would you have willingly pumped Ontari’s heart if Abby asked?

Yeah, I’d do what I have to.  Probably would be admiring the ceiling as I did it, but I’d do it.

17. If Lexa wasn’t Heda, but she was still alive then who would have made the best commander?

I don’t know.  I feel like it there was a more ruthless, battle ready heda, the 100 (and the rest of the Ark) would have been in a worse position.

Wait! An answer came to me when I was looking at question twenty:  Lincoln!  My friend and I liked to joke that Lincoln was one of the few characters with a head on his shoulders and realistic ideas and expectations for relations.

18. How would you act if you ate the hallucinogenic nuts like Jasper and Monty?

I’d probably just be giggling, at EVERYTHING.

19. How would you have dealt with Charlotte’s crime? A more John Murphy approach or Bellamy Blake approach?

Definitely a more Bellamy Blake approach.

20. Who should have been the Chancellor, if anyone?

Monty.  Monty is another character who had a good head on his shoulders.

21. Would you have been on Pike’s side like Bellamy or on Kane’s side? Or Clarke in Polis?

Kane’s side. No question.

22. Mount Weather had a lot of modern commodities. (example: Maya’s Ipod) What is the one thing you would snatch while there?

Maybe a kindle if they had that.  They probably would have different books than the Ark had, or the grounders.  Give me all the books.

23. What would your Grounder tattoos look like? Hairstyle? War paint?

Probably a couple tribal tattoos on my arms, maybe connecting with something spanning my shoulders and upper back.  Definitely ALL the braids; I already wear braids in my hair a lot, but I think they would just get more intricate for the grounder style. Some nice, swirling black warpaint around my eyes when I have to go to battle.

24. Favorite quote?

For someone who regularly collects quotes (though usually from books), I don’t actually have one.  But a quick internet search and choosing quickly, I’ll say a favorite is, “I say, screw fear. I’m telling my own damn story.” (Bellamy Blake, 1.13). It reminds me a little of my one of my favorite song lyrics, “I’m the hero of the story; don’t need to be saved,” from “Hero” by Regina Spektor, which is actually a pretty decent song for the show.

25. If all of the characters were in the Hunger Games, who would have the best shot at winning?

I’m gonna go with Clarke.  She’s smart and tactical and she does what she has to do. But if it came down to a straight up fight, probably Luna; she’d have the knowledge to survive the land and the talent to survive the fight.

26. Least favorite ship? Favorite canon ship? Favorite non canon ship? NOT INCLUDING CL OR BC OR BE

Miller/Jackson - It just came out of nowhere, with no build up, and I like to see how things unfold, especially relationships, and so I’m being stubborn about them trying to tell me it’s a thing. Zaven - All I wanted was for Raven to finally find someone who could make her happy and show her what she could should have. So, yeah, I’m in denial and not the happiest person right now. (I haven’t even watched the new season yet--I know, I know, I’m a horrible fan, but I was sick and then busy catching up on life--and this is something that got spoiled for me even though I’ve been trying to avoid tumblr for a week; I blame Critical Role for encouraging me to go on Tumblr last Thursday) Minty - I found the ship in fanfiction and jumped on board quickly and happily.

27. A song that should be included in the next season? If there had to be another guest star like Shawn Mendes on the show, who would you want to make a cameo?

I’m going with the song that I actually used as a title to one of my fanfics, “Heathens” by Twenty One Pilots. (I also just am bad at knowing songs, so this I’ll stick with what I already know fits with the story)

Celebrities, another of my knowledge downfalls--seriously, if you ever want a guaranteed win in a trivia game against me, go with Pop Culture as the topic.

28. What would you do if you were stuck in the bunker with Murphy for all that time?

Play card games? Drink? There wasn’t a whole lot to do.

29. Your an extra that gets killed off. How do you die?  

You wouldn’t actually see me die, I’d just be one of the bodies bloody and lying on the ground.

30. A character you’d like to learn more about and get flashbacks of?

I think it’s actually Echo and/or Emori, both would be best; I’m curious about everyday life on the ground before the timeline of the show.

31. A character you’d bang?

Can I say all of them? If I have to select someone I‘d choose Bellamy, Clarke, Raven, or Roan. Basically the same answer as Toni.  Ooo, I’m adding Lincoln to the list, too.

32. Would you stay in the Bunker? Go up to Space? Or live on your own in Eden?

Assuming I could survive it (nightblood), Eden. I need my green and I don’t mind being alone, though I’d probably still talk to the radio or the animals or plants.

33. In the Bunker, would you follow Octavia? What would you do to pass the time underground?

Yup. I’m a follower.  Read, draw, think up stories.

34. What crime would you commit in the Bunker that lands you in the fighting pits?

These questions keep asking me questions with the assumption that I am not Lawful Good down to my core.  I have no idea what law/rule I would willfully break and what the circumstances would have to be for me to do it.

35. Up in Space, who would you bond with first? Who would be the most difficult for you to get along with?

Harper, no doubt about it. Probably more so Murphy wouldn’t get along with me.  He’d catch me making a face at something he said, and I didn’t honestly mean anything by it, my face just reacts, and he’d hold a grudge against me for a while.

36. How long do you think you would last on Earth by yourself?

If I had survival skills (know what to eat, how to find it, etc.) probably a long time. If I tried it at this exact moment, not very long at all.

37. When the Eligius ship lands what do you do?

Run, hide, observe, freak out. I don’t know.

38. Favorite Eligius character? Least favorite?

Shaw.  (Why must all the good ones go?) Vinson, he was creepy AF.

39. Would you Spacewalk?

Assuming I could do it when it wasn’t illegal, yeah!

40. Would you prefer to eat Windshield Bugs, Space Algae, or Bunker Meat?

Windshield bugs. I was about to say Space Algae, but then I thought about the texture it’d be, and I’m pretty sure it’d be the texture that makes me gag when I try to eat it.

41. Would you start a war for the last spot of green on earth? What would your solution be to avoid it?

Yeah no, I don’t want to go to war.  I would try to work out a way to share it.

42. Would you rather dig out flesh-eating worms or stick thumb drives into bullet holes?

I think I’d stick a thumb drive into a bullet hole.  The first is turning my stomach to think about, but somehow the second isn’t doing the same.

43. Are you willing to poison your sister for the Traitor Who You Love? What would you do to stop Octavia?

 Gut reaction against it, but that’s because I love my sister and she’s the sweetest.  But if she did what Octavia did and had that personality, probably, as long as I knew she wouldn’t be killed by it. What they did seemed to work...?

44. Would you go to sleep in cryo or stay awake like Marper?

Sleep in cryo.

45. Who are you waking up first to explore the new planet?

Clarke and Bellamy, Raven and Shaw, Murphy and Miller. <<Same, probably Emori too, she’s resourceful. 

I’m not gonna tag anyone because chances are they already did this while I’ve been avoiding Tumblr and so I missed their answers. But if anyone hasn’t done this and wants to, please tag me in your post!  I want to see what other people have to say!

[jbuffyangel]

Outlander 4x02 Reaction: “Do No Harm”

I’m not sure what I was expecting for this episode, but I think I was expecting more.

Let’s dig in...

I know you are James Alexander Malcolm Mackenzie Fraser, but you were outnumbered bro. Being lied to isn’t your fault either. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Oh wait. Claire is literally saying everything I am saying. She’s got this. *Back to munching on popcorn*

Jamie and Claire reminiscing about the days when they were broke AF is so romantic. I miss the younger years with these crazy kids. I know it’s a big deal to Jamie to provide for Claire, and it’s admirable, but she lost twenty years with you dude. She’d live in a hole with you at this point.

It would have been fun to meet Jamie’s mother.

Indians = Highlanders. Ummm... I don’t know enough about my history, particularly Scottish history, to determine if this statement is true, but given what I know about Native American history this doesn’t sound true. At least the equation is keeping Ian’s mind open and his heart compassionate because I’d really hate for him to be a racist. 

“Livestock. Goodness no they are great deal more expensive than that I assure you. Lord, knows where they’d be if I hadn’t taken them on and given them a home and a purpose.  Why, some are so dear to me, I consider them friends.” This entire speech made me want to vomit.  Where would they be Jocasta? HOME WITH THEIR LOVED ONES IN THE COUNTRIES THEY WERE STOLEN FROM LIVING THEIR LIVES IN PEACE. 

There’s always the benevolent slave owner trope in any show addressing slavery. The character always thinks their “kindness”  outweighs the sin of owning people. They use their benevolence like a cloak to hide their deeply embedded racism. They are just as bad, if not worse in some respects, as the violent slave owner. Owning people is violent and cruel no matter how you dress it up.

“Perhaps they see things a little differently, since they don’t have any choice.” Claire’s passive aggressiveness is A+ this week.

Jocasta announcing Jamie as her successor without discussing it with him first is a page out of my mother in law’s book. They should have tea together.

Jamie taking over River Run and freeing the slaves doesn’t sound like a bad idea to me.

Holy shit the process of freeing slaves is insane. Is this for real? Bloody hell America, you are the worst.

“Nothing will change under these laws.” Pretty sure that’s the point, Claire.

Is that a HOOK? This is horrific. Shoot all the white people Jamie. Screw it.

Sometimes Outlander feels like 18th century ER.

“It would have been better for us all had he died on that hook.” This entire conversation is soul crushing. This is also one of the very few African American characters who is given any kind of voice, which I find wildly problematic in an episode about slavery.

Claire being forced to decide between the lesser of two evils while somehow holding on to the oath she took as a doctor is really heartbreaking. But no where near as heartbreaking as the young man who is about to lose his life for defending himself.

These blood thirsty wretches don’t even realize the young man is drugged and/or already dead. All they see is the color of his face, which means he’s less than an animal in their eyes. Why can’t we shoot them? I’m drawing a blank.

Alright, I’m just going to say it. If Outlander is determined to make the comparison between the Native Americans and the Highlanders then I don’t understand why Jamie and Claire leave River Run. We spent an entire season trying to avert war and save the Highlander way of life. Are the odds stacked against them in the American South? Yes, but Claire wasn’t worried about igniting a spark or an explosion in France. In fact, that was the entire point. 

It’s admirable Jamie and Claire don’t want to own slaves, even for a short time, but there’s also an air of “Well, slavery will be over someday.” Yeah, in 98 years!!!! I recognize the idea of Jamie and Claire ending slavery 100 years before the Civil War is ludicrously naive and the epitome of the white savior complex.  Perhaps I would feel better about the episode if we heard more from the African American characters rather than Jamie & Claire reacting to them/saving them. I understand slavery is institutionalized in the south during the 18th century. It is a way of life. There’s not much Jamie & Claire can do, but spending only one episode on slavery feels more like a “Very Special Outlander” and I think the subject deserves more attention.

The upside is of course Jamie & Claire are one of the few voices of opposition to this evil and do what they can to help during their time at River Run. Claire coming from the future never felt so poignant as it did this episode. We know slavery ends and things change. We also know some things remain the same. Slavery is a great stain on America’s history and no matter what we do we can never erase it. We cannot hide from how this country was built and storytelling like Outlander has done is one way we face the atrocity of our nation’s history. It wasn’t a perfect episode, but at least the writers tried.

[janusdeceit-sanders]

Knight of Mine (Part 2)

wooooooo part two of KoM is here!!!

Part 1 Part 3

Pairings: Prinxiety

Warnings: Swearing, description of injury

+~+~+

At least now the weather was nice. It was cold and damp, sure, but at least it wasn’t raining.

Roman only now realised the awkward situation he might be in. His arm around Virgil’s waist, Virgil’s arms around his shoulders. Roman was only offering help but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t feel pretty bashful right now.

I mean there’s no reason to panic, said his reasonable thoughts, this is just a polite gesture. Plus there’s no need to get your personal feelings involved over such a simple gesture.

Meanwhile, there were sirens going off in another part of his mind.

Virgil reached out and pointed to the right, snapping Roman out of his thoughts. “Look,” he said, “that looks like a hill.”

Surely, there was a hill. It looked like one of the hills surrounding the east side of the kingdom. Which basically meant they have been walking the wrong way this whole time.

“Oh thank goodness,” Roman let out a breath, “this should make it easier to see how far we’ve got.”

They began to walk up the hill, but it wasn’t easy. Yes, Roman was strong but the ground was still wet from the rain and, Virgil already had enough trouble walking.

Virgil stopped and caught his breath, “You know what? Just go on without me-!”

Virgil suddenly found himself cradled in Roman’s arms, held up by the royal knight like a distressed damsel.

“It’s easier like this.” Roman shrugged and began walking up. Virgil knew the guy was strong but shit, Roman just lifted Virgil like he weighed nothing.

Roman walked up the hill slowly.

Once at a decent height, one where they could see above the treetops of the forest, Roman dropped Virgil and fell down on the dirt, tired.

Virgil tried to ignore the fact that Roman was hovering over him and instead focused on the fact that his clothes would now be dirty from being dropped.

"...I literally could've just stayed down there and waited for you." he said.

Roman was basically panting. "Yeah, you're probably right..."

Oh my God, stop, this is so stupid. Virgil thought. He just made Roman walk all the way up the hill, carrying him and now he couldn’t even have thanked him? Never mind all the other stupid thoughts in Virgil’s mind at the moment.

Roman had a goofy smile on his face. Was this really that amusing to him? He just carried Virgil up a hill for no reason.

Roman must have finally realised their current position because his smile dropped for a second and he stood up, offering a hand to Virgil. He took it hesitantly.

Roman turned around to look at the view. The forest seemed to stretch on for miles, the leaves creating a green blanket stretching all the way up to a large clearing. There, little houses and shops dotted the area. Little figures like ants could be seen, going about their ordinary lives. Further ahead was the castle. It stood tall, towering over the town, the biggest building there by far. The evening sun shined through the gaps between the towers of the castle, casting a dark shadow over its front. Behind the castle was even more village.

Roman let out a content sigh. That was a magnificent view.

He looked over to Virgil. Up here, the wind blew lightly at their clothes and hair. Virgil’s fringe uncovered his face. He seemed to be enjoying the view too... judging by his eyes and the way that his brows were furrowed so that he could see better but the look in his eyes was soft. It set Roman’s heart aflame.

“We should move on.” Virgil said and the look in his eyes was gone when he turned to Roman.

Roman snapped out of his daydream. “Y-yeah.”

“It’s getting late.”

“It is.”

“We should go.”

“Yes. We should.” Roman nodded lamely. Why did he get all flustered around Virgil all the time? Helping Virgil down the slippery hill, Roman wondered if those feelings would soon go away.

+~+~+

They continued on through the forest. This time, they knew which way they should be heading.

As they walked on, Virgil's foot seemed to only get worse and worse. At one point, after walking for about an hour straight, Virgil had to sit down on a fallen branch until his pain had passed. Roman decided to check his foot again.

Surely enough, when Virgil's boot and sock came off, they revealed a big purple bruise and lots of small marks from where the shoe brushed against Virgil's foot too much. That didn't look good.

Roman produced a bandage out of his bag and decided the best option was to wrap Virgil's leg up and hope that eased the pain. After all, they didn't have any other medical supplies with them.

Once that was done, Virgil could walk without extreme pain, so that was a win. It still hurt though but it was improvement. They carried on.

"...I'm sorry we're in this situation right now." Virgil spoke up. "If I hadn't tripped and fallen like an idiot, we wouldn't be here right now."

Roman felt a pang of guilt. "Virgil," he stopped walking and placed his hands on Virgil's shoulders, "you have absolutely nothing to worry about," he said seriously, "Please, don't blame yourself."

Roman could see tears glistening in Virgil's eyes but he didn't mentioned it. Virgil swallowed. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Roman let go and gave Virgil a small smile. He liked Virgil. He liked spending time with Virgil, that is. Roman just kept digging himself a deeper hole, didn't he? Anyway, he didn’t mind having to travel with Virgil for hours.

As they carried on, Roman decided to break the silence. "Nice weather we're having." he noted. The sun was now shining into the forest in between the leaves and branches, providing light and a touch of warmth.

"Are you seriously going to talk about the weather?"

Roman felt a stab of anxiety in his chest at the thought of him having just messed up a perfectly good silence. "Uh..."

"It's okay, dude." Virgil said with a hint of that same panic in his voice. He looked down at his hands and fidgeted a bit. Great, Roman screwed everything up.

They walked on a bit before Virgil sighed and spoke again, "What made you want to become a knight?" he asked.

That lit a little spark in Roman's chest. He loved talking about his dreams. "Well," he began, "I guess, when I was young I used to be a big believer in fairytales, and I always dreamed of being a prince or a knight..." he said, eyeing Virgil as he spoke. There was a soft smirk on Virgil's face. "But I've also always wanted to be an actor, and perform onstage for thousands of people." he said, "I guess, destiny just chose knighthood for me..."

Virgil was giggling to himself about something.

"What are you laughing at, Dark Knight?"

"Nothing." Virgil said but he couldn't wipe that grin off his face. That grin. "I'm just imagining you as a kid, playing knights with wooden swords and rocking horses."

Roman gasped lightly. "I'll have you know they were those toy wooden stick horses."

Virgil laughed again. "I could see you as an actor though," he said, "you're quite dramatic."

"Quite?!"

"Point proven.” Virgil grinned to himself as he teased.

“Well, what about you? Why did you decide to become a royal knight?” Roman asked.

“Well, I don’t believe in fairytales-”

“What?!”

“You don’t need to shout.” Virgil sighed, “My father was a knight, so I guess I just followed in his footsteps. Plus, it pays well, unlike any of the other jobs I have considered...”

Roman studied Virgil’s expression. “...Like art?” he asked.

“Yeah...”

Roman nodded. He understood what it felt like to have to take a different path instead of your most desired one. Acting wasn’t really something he could make a huge career out of for himself.

“I believe that you would be a wonderful artist, Virgil.” he said.

“Psh,” Virgil shook his head and smiled, “You haven’t even seen any of my shit drawings.”

“I’m sure they’re not that shit.”

“How could you know?”

“Because if you’re passionate about art, there’s no way it could be that bad.” said Roman. “If you love what you do, it’ll only ever turn out great.”

“That’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not.” Roman lifted a long hanging branch up so that they could pass through, “And when we get home, you’ll show me your art, and I’m sure it’s going to be wonderful.” he smiled softly.

“Home...”

“Yeah.”

The sun was setting at this point, and Roman knew they still had a while to go. They probably wouldn’t make it to the castle today, and they’d have to set up a temporary shelter for the night. Luckily, nothing that dangerous lived in these forests. Or at least, nothing would attack you here unless you gave it reason to.

“Let’s move on before it gets too dark.”

~+~+~+~

@set-phasers-to-cuddle @galaxy-warping

[allisonilluminated]

The Seven Sins of Fanfiction

Hey all,

This blog is primarily focused on helping newer writers (and maybe some older ones) improve their fanfiction and increase their views.  Since that’s the case, it’s important to understand exactly what not to do when you’re writing.

These are the worst things you can do while you’re writing.  I can guarantee everyone reading this post has done at least three of them, and probably all in some shape of form.  This is the sort of thing that makes you want to click away immediately, that you cringe at when it’s in the first paragraph or laugh at how bad it is.  These things that make you stop reading other stories, just think about it for a moment.  What if fewer people are reading your own work because you’re making the same mistakes?

Yeah.  If you want to improve, you gotta know what you’re doing wrong.  Number Seven is the least worst, then the list descends to Number One, the worst thing you can do in fanfiction.

Note: This is a subjective list.  There are people who disagree with some of these points (especially the non-grammar ones), so it’s important to remember that these are the things I find most degrading to the quality of the story being written.  As a writer, you have the creative liberty to write whatever you want.

#7 – Bad Romance

“Wo-o-o-o-o, o-o-o-o, o-o-ah, caught in a bad romance fanfiction but it’s the only 100k fic for my OTP so I’m like contractually obligated to read it.” - Lady Gaga, mostly

We’ve all been here.  You know that moment when two characters meet, then suddenly decide to kiss, and the next thing you know they’re screwing on the patio with some kinky ass BDSM shit.  What about those cringe fics where suddenly Harry is spouting some creepy possessive stuff like “my only” or “softest light of my life” to twelve year old Ginny.  You know what I’m talking about.

Good romance is an art.  It’s about flawed characters (later) coming together in a beautifully intimate way (later) to make something even more beautiful.  There is so much bad romance on FFN and AO3 that it just blows my mind.

Giving tips would take an entire post, so here’s a good article on the absolute basics you need to write a good romance: https://www.nownovel.com/blog/romance-writing-mistakes/

#6 – Bad Dialogue Tags

“No!” he howled.

“Yes,” she growled angrily.

She retorted snarkily, “Well, screw you.”

“Fuck you too,” he scowled sadly, before gratingly mumbling “I still love you though.”

Alternatively:

“No!” “Yes.”  “Well, screw you.”  “Fuck you too.  I still love you though.”

There’s a glorious word in this social construct we call English, and it’s “said.”  Use it.

You don’t need a fancy word for every tag.  You don’t need a fancy word for almost all tags.  Eighty percent of your tags should be said, exclaimed, and asked, and more of said than the others.  Maybe a whispered or a yelled for some flavor.

Adverbs are your enemies.  I struggle with this, but you should use them extremely sparingly.

On the flipside, if your reader doesn’t know who’s talking, your dialogue is meaningless to them.  Also, use line breaks every time there is a new speaker.

The trick is finding some happy medium between the two examples.  A handful of fancy tags, a lot of said, and if there are two people talking back and forth you don’t even need to tag every sentence.

#5 – Bad Messaging

I don’t want to put down an example for this one, because I think writers feel liberated to write some really awful shit in fanfiction because it’s “not a serious medium” or “it’s the internet, I have free speech.”  Let me say this right now:

Stories that make rape a positive thing are not okay.  Stories that portray suicide in a glorified light are not okay.  Stories that show slavery, or torture, or all of the other horrendous things human beings do to each other in a romanticized or glorified manner are not okay.

I don’t care if it’s your fetish.  I don’t care, it’s just not okay to write about these things in a positive light.  The only reason this is so high on this list is because these stories aren’t as common as the rest, and are mostly marked M/Explicit so you can avoid them.

#4 – Overdescription

Hi my name is Ebony Dark’ness Dementia Raven Way and I have long ebony black hair (that’s how I got my name) with purple streaks and red tips that reaches my mid-back and icy blue eyes like limpid tears and a lot of people tell me I look like Amy Lee (AN: if u don’t know who she is get da hell out of here!). [[I’m not related to Gerard Way but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. I’m a vampire but my teeth are straight and white. I have pale white skin. I’m also a witch, and I go to a magic school called Hogwarts in England where I’m in the seventh year (I’m seventeen). I’m a goth (in case you couldn’t tell) and I wear mostly black. I love Hot Topic and I buy all my clothes from there. For example today I was wearing a black corset with matching lace around it and a black leather miniskirt, pink fishnets and black combat boots. I was wearing black lipstick, white foundation, black eyeliner and red eye shadow – My Immortal

Oh boy.

Writers, let me introduce you to this wonderful thing called your profile.  Assuming you aren’t drowning in copypastas, this is the perfect place for your character descriptions.  Alternatively, have you heard of Tumblr? Literally, stick them anywhere except the middle of your story, and I can guarantee you the readers that actually care will find them if you mention them in your A/N.

Show, don’t tell is one of the fundamental principles of writing. When you’re describing a character, you probably don’t need more than three adjectives and a one sentence description of their outfit. Yes, that applies even if your character has a special non canon outfit.  If we must know, work the details into the story. Info-dumping description is telling, and is one of the worst world building and characterization mistakes you can make.  Period.

#3 – Epithets

The blond girl walked to the door, and started as a burly man opened it.  “May I help you?”

“Yes, I’m here to get a consultation,” the graying businessman said as he ran a hand through his oily hair.

The youthful therapist nodded as she shut the door behind him. Rummaging on her desk, she asked, “Why are you here?”

“Well,” said the jaded economist to the buxom woman.  “This author thinks they’re being clever by not giving out names, but they’re ruining this story.”

The best way to get someone to leave your story is epithets.  

Epithets do not create mystery.  Epithets are not a good substitute for proper nouns.  Epithets will not make a clever opening, or add variety to your dialogue.

Epithets will ruin your story, and should not be used.

They come in varying degrees of horror.

The noun.  You might be able to get away with saying just “the woman” or “the child” under certain circumstances. This is almost an excusable offence.

The noun with one adjective.  This is already unacceptable. If you though you were going to solve Sin #4 by doing this, you’re digging yourself an even deeper hole.

The noun with one modified adjective.  Because they can’t just be sexy, they have to be shockingly sexy.

The noun with multiple adjectives.  This is automatically overdescription on top of being a horrible thing to subject another person to.

The noun followed by a relative clause.  Because there’s always a way to make it worse.  “The girl who was now holding his hand” is absolutely disgusting, and so is “The girl that was sitting across from her” or especially “the girl she knew had a chocolate bar somewhere in her pocket.

The noun followed by a relative clause with adjectives.  Put it together and what have you got?

Compound Epithets.  Oh. My.  God.  This deserves its own sin.  Even if your character has blue hair, you should never ever ever call them a bluenette.  Ever.  Ever ever ever. AAAAAAAAH!

The author has made her point.

#2 – Bad Grammar

I find bad grammar extremely agitating, mostly because there are a lot of great tools and easy fixes to solve the problems.  Most word processors have a built in spell checker, and a lot of them check for grammar as well.  If you need an alternative, grammarly.com has a good free version that’ll catch a lot of mistakes.  Of course, proofreading your work before posting is always a great idea.  Here’s a quick list of some of the most common grammar issues you should be on the lookout for:

A new paragraph for a new idea.

A new paragraph for a new speaker.

Dialogue formatting

Periods

Commas

Run on sentences

Using line breaks

Spelling

Capitalizing starts of sentences

Capitalizing proper nouns

Choosing CONSISTENT capitalization for canon terms (Pokemon vs pokemon, for example)

Repeated words.

Sentence fragments

Tense

#1 – Bad Characterization

“What?” you’re probably asking yourself right now.  “How is bad characterization possibly worse than poor grammar?  Than epithets?”

Allow me to explain.

When an author writes a story, a good story, they are creating characters who act like people.  They have wants, needs, hates, motives, and a concept of who they are, even if they’re only fictional.  The author gives them life, spirit, a spark that keeps you reading and wanting to learn more about them.

That sense of identity is what makes them real to us.  Why you binge a show on Netflix, or read a novel in one night.  Reading is a connection with these characters on a deeper level than you might realize, and this connection brings them to life.

Take that away, and your story is dead.

Your gray OOC Gary Stu overpowered Ravenclaw Harry who grew up with Snape and has a goblin half brother AU is not a story about Harry Potter.  It’s a story about an OC named Harry Potter, and Harry loses any integrity he had as a character in Rowling’s books.

That’s why there are fics with horrible grammar and massive following, alongside fics with incredible grammar and sentence construction but no followings.  Unless you maintain a basic level of your character’s identity, the essence of what makes them empathetic, you’re not writing about that character.  This is the worst sin, because even with all of the others in play, if there is good characterization you can still create an incredible story.

Just by fixing these seven problems, your fic can instantly jump from bad/meh to incredible in the way people perceive it.  Hopefully this list can help you determine things to either go back and revise or work on for future chapters.  When have you committed one of the seven sins?  What other sins do people make all the time in their writings?

Thank you to all of the amazing people who have followed, Allie

Support Me:  Fanfiction.net - Archives of our Own 

[beyondthetemples-ooc]

@unknowndisire replied to your post “i’m going to yet another hospital tomorrow, that can make same-day...”

I recommend watching the video thats on my account, the second post down. Its a suicidal prevention video but even if youre not suicidal and youve just had a bad day, it might help ❤

Thank you so much for taking the time of your life to offer me that. Your video is wonderful and beautiful, and every word of it is so true.... But everything you've said in it only frustrates me further. Because I couldn't agree MORE!

You know? The unfortunate reality is that, despite my struggles with internalized abuse and self-doubt, I know to the very bottom of my soul that I have a WORLD of potential, love, unique traits nobody else on this world will ever have, and people in my life that I don't want to leave. (I do believe in reincarnation, and I believe that it would be hard as hell to find anyone in my future lives as wonderful as every single one of my current friends. I'm lucky to have them.)

But what really drives me to prefer death is everything that stops ALL  of that from being enjoyed, appreciated, stops me from doing any damn thing about it.

It's suffering, sure, but I've suffered before. It's helplessness, but I've felt trapped before too.

The real issue for me is that I can't REALIZE my POTENTIAL. There is so damn much of it, and it's all going to waste. There is so much I know I COULD do, but can't because of my situation, my finances, my birthplace, my family issues, my past, my stomach. Goddamnit, my stomach has already stopped me from being able to do SO MUCH, and the older I get, the more doctors I see, the more times I'm told there's nothing wrong with me when I'm vomiting for hours every other night, the worse it gets and tthe more it hurts and the more it holds me back, and the more it looks like it's never going to end.

(There are some disabilities you can surmount, and live your life happily through between flare-ups. But there is literally, absolutely NOTHING I can do about vomiting, dehydrating, all of my energy being drained by dehydration and malnourishment, and the fact that it makes me feel awful and lifeless for hours. I can't do anything about it. And doctors WON'T do anything about it. Not yet, besides maybe give me a saline IV.)

The reality is that I don't want to live, logically (not emotionally, a LOGICAL decision) if my life is going to be wasted like this. The frustration of being stopped from fulfilling literally every single reason to live for me by either my money or my stomach leaves me with no reason to live.

I can never, never EVER be content with knowing there is so damn much I can do, but my stomach stops me from securing a good job, my finances screwed over my every chance at a good education, my credit score probably won't let me get a car because I was dicked over and thrown into $450 of debt awhile ago and I couldn't dig myself out of that hole no matter what job I got, and the system is rigged against us in this country.

(I don't say that to be a Rebellious Millennial, but in the United States, the two biggest businesses aside from retail and illegal trades are credit card debt and education. It's extortionate, it's built to capitalize and make money on people not having money, it is literally built to fuck us over the harder we struggle with it.)

The problem for me isn't that I think I'm worthless and unloved. The problem for me is that I can't do a damn thing WORTHY of my potential and my love.

I'm failing MYSELF, more than I've failed anyone else in the world.

And when you can't be yourself, what do you have left...?