#seriously even bathroom breaks are timed so there’s almost no time to socialize unless you break the rules

[theshadowrealmitself]

Not enough people talk about the people who were homeschooled but not because they had weirdly overprotective parents

I was homeschooled for all of highschool by my grandma, except she didn’t actually put in any effort with me, she just gave me the (extremely weird) booklets and I had to teach myself and she would get upset with me if I asked for help

So I am one of those weird homeschooled kids, but I’m not like the other homeschooled kids, I’m like…super-neglected homeschooled kids instead of super-sheltered

(there was definitely some stuff I didn’t know going into college but it wasn’t because I had adults trying to “protect” me from everything, they just didn’t care enough to teach me)

Either way I’m a very weird adult and I just wanna bring attention to the fact there are people on the other spectrum of being homeschooled, not all of us had the overprotective parents, some of us are even worse at talking to people

#no fandom #just remembering this because my social skills are shit!! #they’re terrible!!! #but when I try to explain the weird homeschooling stuff people don’t understand #I didn’t even have adults to interact with #and all my siblings had friends so they’d never be home around me #it was just me!! #by myself!! #in a room teaching myself schoolwork!!!! #for years!!!! #I Am Feral!!!! #or wild!! #or something!!! #I’m just. not socialized #and then I was actually getting better in college #then the pandemic hit and I was once again in my room #teaching myself for online classes because my professors had no idea how to teach kids online #and then at work I’m timed with everything #seriously even bathroom breaks are timed so there’s almost no time to socialize unless you break the rules #this is not a vent I’m just spreading awareness that I exist #and I think others like me exist? #and we have no social skills for the love of everything be patient with us #don’t ask about the years before being homeschooled it was like a cult you don’t wanna know

[hottestthingalive]

just want to extend my sincerest well-wishes to folks living in new england right now. if henri remains a hurricane and makes landfall in new england, it will be the first hurricane to do so in thirty years. in the past few decades, tropical storms and super storms (even the ones where new england only got bands of the storm and never entered the eye) have been enough to devastate the area. speaking from experience, a hurricane is a very different beast, especially in the path of the eye, and henri is predicted to possibly generate tornadoes as well. it’s also happening near a full moon, meaning tides are already high and flooding risks are huge. this is far more serious than many folks are taking it to be.

if you live in the predicted path of henri, please treat this seriously. a hurricane, even a category one, is enough to cause massive amounts of destruction, especially in areas unprepared for such weather conditions like new england. i’m hoping for the best, but i advise all of you to prepare for the worst. have necessary supplies like food, clean water, medication and lanterns stocked and ready, charge all electronic devices now, get gas for cars, generators, stoves, etc. beforehand, and do whatever else you can think of. there’s not much time left to prepare, so here’s a checklist for how to be as safe during the storm as possible:

-make sure you, your family, your pets, and anyone else in your household stay in one area, preferably a single room, as a sort of base. this room should have as few non-reinforced doors, windows, or walls as possible. if you are living in a house, do not go in the basement unless necessary (while the walls are likely more reinforced, it will be more easily flooded) but try to also avoid upper floors unless necessary, as branches and trees falling on or into them is a huge risk, not to mention well tornadoes. if you are living in an apartment, try to stay in a room with as few windows as possible, towards the middle of the apartment or wherever would be most stable in an emergency. in both scenarios, i’d advise bathrooms as generally good bases.

-keep the majority of your supplies in this room with you, including food, water and sleeping materials. ideally, you should be able to stay in this room without leaving it for hours at a time.

-pack go-bags, and keep your stuff organized and ready to tranport. if things get really dire, you will want everything easily moveable, even if you aren’t leaving the house: moving upstairs if your home begins to flood is far easier and safer if you can grab everything in one go instead of having to pack it all up.

-keep valuables in plastic bags. if you’re especially worried, use more than one bag and air-tight containers. make sure they’re still easily transportable, though, and have them packed up at all times. if possible, do this with electronic devices early on: you will not want your phone to die if you lose power, so you should not be using it for any reason but an emergency until you have a guaranteed way to charge it again.

-have an evacuation/escape plan. if things get bad, know where you’re going and how to get there. make sure all paths to your home’s exits are completely clear of obstacles. monitor your state’s policies on the matter of evacuation. if you’re told to evacuate, even if it is beautiful and sunny outside and seems completely fine, do so immediately. if you have to take a car and your tires are worn or not good for driving on slick surfaces, see if you can change them or get another vehicle beforehand. new yorkers and other city dwellers, do not use the subway or other below-ground transport under any circumstances until you know for certain they are completely safe or unless you have absolutely no choice in the matter. however, you should be aiming to avoid moving from your home after the storm starts until it ends: travel is extremely dangerous during hurricanes, and you want to stay in one place for as long as it is possible.

-have money withdrawn from your bank in cash, and keep it on you. make sure your important documents (passports, id, social security card, licenses) are all accessible and safe as well.

-make sure you are able to eat and drink and are doing so. if you will not have safe access to a stove during the storms, make sure you have food with you that does not require such preparation. you should also always have water, medication, and other necessary survival items with you whenever possible.

-if you have a car, make sure it’s not under any branches or structures that could fall on it during the storm. also, try and ensure it is on stable ground and is steady in place even when not braked. if you have immediate, obvious evidence to support the belief that your car could be moved or damaged during the storm, it is not in a safe space. if it is in a garage, ensure it is fully closed up and that the path to it is clear and, if you must enter the garage, try to use side doors or the like.

-do not go out in the storm, even if you think it is abating or gone, until you have full confirmation that it is. if you end up in the path of the eye, remember that the eyewall is a circle: the relative calm in the eye is a prelude to a second round of terrible winds. in your place, i would genuinely not risk going outside until at least 1-3 hours of little to no rain and wind had occurred on Monday (as many predictions expect the storm to last until Monday morning). staying inside is almost always safest.

-tornadoes in hurricanes are dangerous and unpredictable. if you suspect one to be nearby or passing overhead, stay away from all windows and outer doors and walls, and try to hunker down.

-if any property of yours is damaged outside, even if it is your car or house, do not go outside to deal with it until the storm is over unless that damage actively threatens your safety. if your chimney is blown off but no water is entering your fireplace and your roof seems intact, stay inside: however, if a tree breaks through a window, wall or roof and allows wind and rain to enter, address it immediately, although try to do so from inside when possible.

-use ‘oxygen mask on an airplane’ logic. your own safety needs to be your first priority, and then that of your housemates, and then that of anyone else. you are in pure survival mode, and odds are that playing at heroism or martyrism will not only actively endanger you but those around you as well.

-bring a book, a sketchbook, cards, or other forms of entertainment into your base: you’re gonna be waiting out this storm for a while. i’d advise not trying to sleep through the worst parts of the storm unless you have someone on watch, though: you do not want to be caught unawares by flooding or damages. i would also not advise using electronic devices that you may need in an emergency for entertainment (which includes anything that could be used to contact emergency services, even ipads or the like) although things like cd players are viable options. if you have a radio, use it to monitor alerts, and only use it for entertainment if you can be absolutely positive that you can recharge it (via batteries, for example).

if anyone has anything else, please add it. to sum this all up, though:

don’t take risks, be smart, and be safe. you can do this. i believe in you.

#hurricane henri #cinder communicates

[hetacon]

Prom Queen: Chapter 5

First || Previous || Next

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Word Count: 1,920

Pairings: Endgame Prinxiety, Platonic LAMP, more could be included at a later point

Warning: Swearing, mentions of p*rn, mentions of drugs and underage drug use, slight internal panic attack

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Summary: The popular kids were interesting for sure, they definitely weren’t exactly like Virgil had expected them to be but at the same time they kind of were.

(Make sure you read all the way to the end if you want to hear my thoughts on the chapter, and let me know if you want to be added to the taglist for this story, my art, or writing! I hope you guys enjoy!)

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Music blared through Virgil’s headphones as he and Roman sat with the popular kids again. Virgil wasn’t feeling up to talking much with them today so he had out his sketchbook, mindlessly making marks on the page. He was totally spacing out, too occupied by his latest worry of the week.

He very nearly jumped out of his skin as one of his earbuds was pulled out of his ear and he scrambled to pause the My Chemical Romance song that he’d been playing to drown out his thoughts the best he could, putting his phone face down in his lap. Virgil registered the person next to him laughing loudly at his jumpiness and he looked over to see Nick nearly doubling over from how hard he laughed.

‘It really wasn’t that funny, you scared me asshole,’ Virgil thought bitterly to himself before mentally shaking his head. ‘He didn’t do anything rude.. Well, that rude, calm down Virgil, you’re overreacting again. These are Roman’s friends, they’re starting to like you.’

“Sorry dude but that was the funniest shit I’ve ever seen, holy crap,” Nick chuckled, leaning back as he crossed his arms. He looked over to Virgil finally and nodded. “So what was up with that? You looked like you were about to shit yourself.”

Virgil’s brows furrowed. “Force of habit, I guess,” he muttered out.

“Oh yeah? What were you doing, watching porn or some shit?” A grimace came over Virgil’s face as Nick asked but he tried to not look too disgusted.

Quick, what was the appropriate answer? How did people usually talk about that type of stuff? Should he take it seriously? Consider it a joke? Punch him in the arm like the jocks he saw all the time in his physics class?

Luckily, Roman cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow. “Hey, that’s not cool, he’s clearly not comfortable, Nicholas,” he said, giving Nick a leveling look.

Nick put his hands up and shrugged. “Only joking dude, what he does with his time is his business. Wouldn’t blame him if it was though!” Another laugh rang out as one of the other guys sitting next to Nick punched him in the arm, much to Virgil’s satisfaction. At least someone punched him.

“Gross, shut the hell up!” the person who punched Nick told him with an obnoxiously grating laugh. “You’re sick, dude.”

Virgil tried to ignore the conversation but as he tried to put his earbud back in, he noticed Nick had it in his ear. He just couldn’t get away from them could he? He signed up for this admittedly though.

“Sorry, anyways, Virge, why’d you jump like that, for real?” Nick finally asked as he and the other guy stopped spitting insults at each other.

“I have strict parents, they don’t like anything remotely mature. They always call my stuff out if it has language in it so I just don’t let them see any music I listen to anymore,” Virgil found himself explaining, opening his phone to play a popular song that had been making the rounds around school rather than continuing through “I’m Not Okay (I Promise)” like he desperately wanted to. Just one more thing Virgil had to be careful of. No more of his own music at school from now on, got it.

“Fuck, strict parents suck! Like, seriously, let me live my fucking life!” Nick scoffed out. “I just want to vape in fucking peace, they don’t need to get all pissy about it. It’s my fucking life right?”

Virgil looked up to Roman for a possible escape from the conversation, Roman knew he wasn’t a huge fan of people even talking about drugs, but Roman was staring down at his phone, texting someone. He looked upset anyways, Virgil probably shouldn’t make him feel worse.

“I mean, I don’t know, my parents aren’t the worst. I know they love me even if they aren’t good at showing it.”

“Nah, parents are assholes, adults are assholes really. They act like they can control you, it blows!” Nick complained.

Virgil only half-listened to the conversation, the other half of his attention going to trying to not have a panic attack. He took a look at the time and put away his sketchbook after making a mental note that he didn’t get very far into the sketch.

“Hey Virge, mind getting something with me real quick?” Roman asked and Virgil’s head snapped up as he nodded quickly.

The two started to walk off in the direction of their classes, Roman letting out a sigh when they were far enough.

“That wasn’t nice of him, sorry for not really... Doing much. I know you don’t like attention being drawn to you, I didn’t know if you wanted me to step in or not.”

“No, it’s fine! I’m just, you know, getting to know your friends I guess!” Virgil laughed out a little too brightly for his usual attitude. He’d been acting more like that around Roman though lately, Roman barely seemed to notice from what he saw.

“Are you sure..? I know you really don’t like those topics and he was practically steamrolling over any chance for you to stop him. I should’ve stepped in, I’m sorry,” Roman said with a hand rubbing his temple. Virgil watched him closely, noticing the way his shoulders locked up. He clearly looked beyond displeased.

“If it’s just for my comfort, I’m fine. I’d tell you if anything was happening, yeah? It’s what best friends do,” Virgil hummed out with a smile, bumping Roman’s shoulder with his own as they continued walking.

Roman glanced over wearily, a small smile on his face as the bell finally rung, signifying the start of class. “Yeah,” he merely replied, before the two parted ways.

The popular kids were interesting for sure, they definitely weren’t exactly like Virgil had expected them to be but at the same time they kind of were. The group was a bit fluid, some of the people that Virgil and Roman sat with tended to stay every day while others came and went. There wasn’t a super strict clique structure that was upheld but there didn’t seem to be a lot of the nerdier groups represented by the group, it mostly consisted of jocks, preps, and random drifters who tended to throw good parties. All of them had some sense of social standing in the school, many people knew them, and they were generally liked outside of the some of the people in the “lower” social statuses. Virgil definitely fit into at least one of these lower statuses but he seemed to be getting a pass due to being Roman’s friends. Luckily the theater kids were essentially accepted as popular kids even if some would be inclined to disagree.

Most of the conversations they got into wasn’t anything that interested Virgil, it mainly consisted of them complaining over homework and “strict” teachers (Seriously, why the hell would teachers actually let someone vape in the middle of class?) and their parents as well as a shit ton of gossip. There was literally so much gossip. So and so cheated on her boyfriend when he was cheating on her too, someone ended up getting in trouble for a tip-off about drugs in their backpack, these two kids got in a fight over some pointless drama and one ended up shoving off a teacher when they’d attempted to break off the fight. It was way more than Virgil thought was even going on at his school as he tended to stay away from pretty much everyone possible but regardless, it all was just as stupid as he expected. Virgil had no idea how they found any excitement out of talking about how people messed up or were fucked over by someone else. He wasn't sure what he was doing anymore but if nothing else, high school was supposed to be confusing right? That's what everyone always said, no one said anything different.

A sign of progress, if Virgil could even call it that was when one of them decided to sit next to him in his English class. The two of them would chat though Virgil barely managed to understand or be engaged in the conversation half of the time. Virgil definitely hated him when he asked Virgil to make up an excuse for him while he vaped in the bathroom and Virgil barely managed to sputter out that he told Virgil he felt a little nauseous but would be ok. It was insane to see the guy come back and roll with the excuse when the teacher asked if he needed to go to the nurse when he got back. Virgil felt his stomach curl when he shot him a wink with a click of his tongue.

"So hey, I was thinking you guys, we've all been pretty busy lately," Patton said as Logan was driving them out for lunch after school.

"Yeah? What's up Pat?" Roman asked, leaning against Virgil in the backseat. Virgil very slightly leaned in, finally relieved to have it just be the three of his closest friends surrounding him as Dodie played on the radio. This was nice, it seemed more simple like this, Virgil almost forgot all his worries as the conversation started up.

"I was thinking about us doing something over fall break and whatnot! Unless there are family plans and whatnot which is cool but I'm free and so is Logan so we wanted to see if you and Virgil would want to!" Patton grinned to Virgil.

"I dunno, it sounds good to me if you wanted to," Virgil told him, before looking over to Roman. "You in?"

Roman sighed and groaned loudly, running a hand over his face. "I so want to but it might be tricky scheduling, the theater teacher is being a bit of a bitch about rehearsing over break. I can't very well miss it and I don't want to promise I'll be there. But even if I can't find a way around it, you guys can absolutely do so and send me lots of pictures!" He gently nudged Virgil's shoulder and despite the heaviness Virgil felt in his gut, he nudged back, giving a sympathetic smile.

"Hey, it's cool. Pat and Logan and I will hang out, no problem. We'll make sure to make plans for the four of us sometime soon ok?" Virgil told him, the weight coming off of him slightly as Roman let out a relaxed laugh, hugging Virgil close. Virgil felt his face grow exceedingly hot but he tried to push down the feeling.

"Yeah, that sounds awesome, I love you guys so much!"

"Oh, are you guys going to need anyone to paint sets? You know I'm always down," Virgil offered, glad to hear the excitement in Roman's answer.

The conversation kept going, they meandered from that to a new show Roman and Patton had both started watching, Logan gave them some of the details of a new robot he was helping to code. Virgil even showed Roman some of his newly finished sketches in the leather bound book (which was now getting a fair amount of use) even if Roman had already seen them halfway done. It felt easy, it felt nice, and Virgil felt like he could breathe. And that scared him a little.

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It is absolutely so strange to write popular kids, I don’t think it’s going to be the easiest for me! Luckily the next chapter is going to be very popular kid free so I don’t have to worry about that! Honestly, their dialogue is the reason the chapters take so long! I don’t find things like gossip and whatnot interesting, it doesn’t make sense since I’m neurodivergent. I’m trying to not make it too stale, I really hope it’s not stale...

Interestingly enough, I’ve had people mess with me or my friends more than once in regards to stuff like hentai (considering I’m an anime fan) so I actually do have at least two experiences where stuff p*rn-related has been brought up as a way to make fun of the groups I was hanging with.

High school is wild and of the behavior I saw from people much further up on the social ladder than I ever was, they do some really weird stuff. I didn’t even see a whole lot, I just know I definitely didn’t like it.

Be prepared for some Patton and Logan time next chapter, I think Virgil deserves it after all of this!

#sanders sides #prinxiety #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #multichapter #prom queen #stan writing

[jaskierswolf]

You Set My Heart Ablaze (24/25)

Previous

Warnings: Jaskier has a small panic attack in this chapter, but Geralt helps him through it. The whole thing is barely a paragraph.

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Saturday.

Finally!

The first day of the summer holidays! Jaskier had barely been able to resist throwing his arms around Geralt the day before when the fireman had come to collect Ciri after school but they’d both agreed that they should at least try to wait until the weekend. So he’d forcibly stuffed his hands in his pockets and shuffled on his feet. He couldn’t help the dazzling smile he flashed at Geralt but at least he managed to keep his hands to himself.

But that was now a thing of the past.

He sat up in bed with more energy than he’d had in the mornings in years. He pushed his glasses up his nose and ran a hand through his hair as he searched for his phone within the pile of sheets. He found the bastard under one of his pillows and immediately rang Geralt without looking at the time.

It rang a few times before Geralt picked up.

“The fuck?” Geralt grumbled into the phone.

Jaskier frowned and pulled the phone away from his ear so he could look at the time. “Oh shit!” He cackled and then put the phone on speaker. “Sorry, darling. I’m still on school time.”

“Jaskier, you’re never on school time, even during term time,” Geralt muttered.

“Oh shush. I just wanted to say that I love you!” He trilled happily.

Geralt grunted.

“Oh ho ho! Aren’t you a grumpy arse this morning?” Jaskier giggled and rolled onto his back, planting his legs up against the wall.

“Fuck off.”

“No! Because it is the school holidays and I, Jaskier Pankratz, love you, Geralt Rivia.” He sighed wistfully.

“Hmm.”

“Geralt!” He whined.

He knew the fireman was tired but he could at least say it back once. The fucker.

“Love you too, now can I get back to sleep?”

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “Yes, dear heart, but call me when you’re awake, alright?”

“Fine.”

The line went dead.

The bastard.

He considered going back to sleep himself but he had too much energy. He jumped out of bed, tripping over his shoes that were on the floor right by his bed, and went flailing across the room.

“Oh cock!” He cursed as he landed, rather painfully, against the door. He would probably have a lovely bruise on the hip that crashed against the wall, but it was better than landing on his wrists and breaking them.

He sort of needed those to play his instruments.

He supposed he could always just sing.

Nah. That was shit.

Plus Priscilla would kill him if he couldn’t finish up the new album. He still had at least one lute track to put down, and even though she could play the lute, he was more skilled and she preferred to focus on the singing. She’d complained enough about his insistence on using the lute over the guitar on this album but he’d refused to back down. He had a vision!

So fuck the guitar.

He sighed and straightened his glasses, frowning as he noticed the smudges on the lenses. How the fuck were they already dirty? He’d only cleaned them last night before bed.

Fuck it.

Pancakes!

Ooh he could make the chocolate chip kind and send photos to Geralt. They had an unspoken rule that one did not make chocolate chip pancakes without photographic evidence unless they were both there to enjoy it. He frowned as he reached the edge of his living/kitchen area, and stuck his tongue between his lips. Maybe he should wait until he could make pancakes with Geralt and Ciri? He didn’t want to make them too often. They wouldn’t be special if he made them too often.

He scoffed. “Yeah, well. I’m hungry.” He muttered. He gazed longingly at the flour and sugar on the top shelf of his cupboards and then grabbed a box of chocolate cereal instead.

Yes he still ate chocolate cereal. The boring old flakey stuff was shit and he actually had taste buds. He preferred his food to not taste like cardboard.

Gods, how was he an adult?

He sighed and scrolled through the social media on his phone. Triss had put up a few pictures from the pub the night before. He’d reluctantly declined the invitation as the wolves were going along, even though Geralt had stayed behind to look after Ciri. There were quite a few of Triss and Eskel pulling funny faces at the camera, and one adorable photo of Triss kissing his cheek. Eskel looked incredibly happy. They were cute together. Jaskier hit the heart button and typed out a string of heart-eyes emojis in the comments.

Even Yennefer had put up a rare personal post. She normally kept her social media for her art stuff  but there was a stunning photograph of her outside the pub. She was wearing a long white chiffon  dress matched with a leather jacket and heavy leather boots, not exactly summery but it was Yennefer. She was gazing off to the side, her face lit by dull glow of the street lamps, one fiery violet eye almost glowing in the darkness.

Jaskier pouted. How was she so fucking photogenic all the time? Seriously how was Geralt now dating him after that?

“Urgh,” he groaned and hit the heart button.

JaskierTheBard: Stop making us all look bad, Yennefer! Stunning photograph darling x

He reread the reply twice and hit send. It was kinder than he usual response to Yennefer but honestly he had to admit she was a little bit sexy in that one, which just wasn’t fair.

Renfri had posted a group photo of the whole gang and he whined. It looked like a fun night. Stupid Philippa and her rules. It wasn’t fair that he had to miss out, but thankfully those days were officially over!

He lost track of time as he scrolled on his phone. He swore as he suddenly remembered his cereal. He groaned as he peered into his bowl. The milk was chocolatey and the cereal had all but disintegrated. He fucking hated soggy cereal.

“Cock,” he muttered and threw the whole lot in the bin.

He was about to put some toast on when his door bell rang. He yelped and jumped at the sound. He looked down at himself. He was still just wearing his boxers. Fuck. He ran to his bedroom and grabbed his dressing gown. It was too hot really to wear it in the summer but he wouldn’t have time to get dressed.

As it turned out, he needn’t have bothered. Geralt was at the door holding a bunch of roses with a sheepish smile on his face.

Jaskier grinned. “Geralt!” He flung his arms around his boyfriends neck and then swore as he realised he was probably crushing the flowers. “Umm, let me just go get some water. Wait. These are for me? They are beautiful. Geralt!” He whined and covered his face in his hands.

Geralt, the fucker, just laughed at him. “They’re for you. I thought… well, Ciri said I couldn’t go on a date without flowers. She was really stubborn about it.”

Jaskier snorted and carefully took the flowers from Geralt. They weren’t too badly crushed, thank Melitele for that. “I wonder where she gets that from,” he teased.

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Calanthe, her grandmother. Even Pavetta had a stubborn streak. Trust me, this one has nothing to do with me.”

Jaskier’s eyes went wide. “Oh shit! I’m sorry. I forgot. I didn’t mean… hmmph!”

Geralt had kissed him.

Not that he was complaining. He smiled into the kissed and then pulled back to gaze into Geralt’s beautiful amber eyes.

“You don’t get to do that every time you want me to shut up, dearest,” he chided gently.

Geralt smirked and just kissed him again.

Ok so perhaps he could.

Gods he was so smitten.

“I love you,” he breathed against Geralt’s lips when they finally pulled apart.

Geralt brushed his nose against Jaskier’s. “I love you too, even if you do have morning breath.”

Jaskier gasped and shoved against Geralt’s chest. “Rude!” He pouted.

“You love me,” Geralt reminded him. “How are you not dressed yet? You’ve been awake for hours.”

Jaskier shrugged. “Internet.”

“Come on, get dressed. I want to take you out.” Geralt instructed with a tilt of his head.

Jaskier laughed. “Take me out how? Kill me or date me? Honestly I’m down for both.”

“Jaskier!” Geralt growled and rolled his eyes.

“Kill me, right. Got it,” he winked at his boyfriend. “Now are you absolutely sure you want me to get dressed? Because I have the perfect outfit to wear but once I’m in those jeans I am not taking them off again,” he stroked Geralt’s cheek with one finger and then bopped him on the nose.

“Hmm. Brush your teeth and I’ll get water for the flowers.” Geralt took the roses back off him. “Do you have a vase?”

Jaskier scoffed. “Of course I have a vase. I’m gay!”

“That’s not an excuse for everything, Jaskier, and I’m pretty sure you’re bi,” Geralt rolled his eyes.

Jaskier laughed. “That’s just homophobic.”

“That’s not—” Geralt cut himself off and pinched his nose. “Bathroom. Now. I’ll find the vase.”

Jaskier giggled happily and went to brush his teeth.

Oh sweetest Melitele! He loved the summer holidays!

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After a few false starts they finally made it out of Jaskier’s flat. He was slightly regretting his choice in black skinny jeans but really they made his legs and arse look great. It was was his first proper date with Geralt and he wanted to look good. They both managed a quick shower and Jaskier braided Geralt’s hair to elevate his usual half up do. Geralt even let Jaskier slip a couple of buttercup clips into the braids.

Geralt was wearing the outfit he’d turned up it which Jaskier hadn’t managed to appreciate before but he could now as he gazed happily at his partner across the table. Geralt had also gone for black skinny jeans, thank you Freya, and a slick black short-sleeved shirt. Honestly Jaskier didn’t know how the man wasn’t boiling in the heat of the summer in all that black but he wasn’t going to complain. It was the first time he’d seen Geralt in a shirt and he was loving it.

In comparison Jaskier had decided on a bright turquoise shirt. He’d left the bottom few buttons undone and tied the ends in a knot to turn the shirt into a crop top. The intensity of Geralt’s gaze on him when he’d finally been allowed to see the whole look had almost cause yet another delay to their date but Jaskier had just winked and pulled his slightly dazed partner out of the flat, switching his glasses for his prescription sunglasses.

He had been far too hungry to delay any further and he wanted to go on a cute date with his boyfriend!

Geralt suggested an adorable little sandwich parlour. It didn’t look like much from the outside but inside it was cosy and quiet, a perfect lunchtime date spot.

Or it would have if they hadn’t been interrupt by Lambert and Renfri… again.

Seriously, every time they ended up in a coffee shop those two were there. They both had wet hair and flushed red faces. Jaskier assumed the pair of them had been at the gym. Geralt had mentioned they liked to spar together on the wolf pack’s days off, that and the work out clothes sort of gave them away.

“Well, well, well,” Lambert laughed as they approached and crossed his arms. “So much for Triss and Eskel’s theory of you moving on, Dandelion.”

Jaskier gaped at the redhead. “Wait what? Have you been talking about us?!” He pointed a finger at the pair of them.

Renfri rolled her eyes. “Do you honestly think they have anything better to do? I’ve had to keep my mouth shut for months whilst these idiots try and think of a plan to set you two up. Triss was heartbroken when you told her you’d moved on. She was really rooting for you guys.”

“Wait, you knew?” Lambert growled at Renfri, she just shoved him in the face.

“Of course I knew. It was fucking obviously. You just had to look at Geralt’s face whenever Jaskier was mentioned. He lit up like a petrol can.”

“Renfri,” Geralt sighed. “I wasn’t that bad.”

Renfri snorted and Jaskier cackled. Oh ho! He was going to have so much fun with this. He held Geralt’s hand over the top of the table and smiled at his lover. “Oh darling, I didn’t know you cared so much,” he simpered with a flutter of his eyelashes.

“I’m pretty sure I showed you how much I care this morning, more than once.”

Jaskier blushed and pulled his hand away. “Touché, dear heart, touché,” he licked his lips as he remembered the morning’s activities. “Please, feel free to remind me any time.”

“Nope!” Lambert yelled and covered his ears. “No. You are not going to be that couple. Urgh.”

“Months I’ve had to put up with this!” Renfri complained. “Come on, wolf. Let’s leave the love birds in peace. They’ll put me off my lunch otherwise.”

“So gross,” Lambert agreed.

Jaskier laughed as the pair of them scarpered from the shop, and he rested his head on his chin as he ate his chips. They were like the kind you get in fish and chip shops and covered in blessed salty goodness. Geralt, the monster that he was, covered his with vinegar so Jaskier wouldn’t steal his chips as well.

“So what’s their deal?” Jaskier asked though mouthfuls of delicious fried potato.

Geralt tilted his head, he also now had a mouthful of cheesesteak sandwich.

“They said they weren’t dating?” Jaskier tried to explain.

Geralt huffed and Jaskier waited for him to finish eating. “Renfri doesn’t date. She has no interest in it.”

Jaskier nodded. “Asexual?”

Geralt shook his head. “Don’t think so. Just the dating thing,” he scowled as he tried to formulate his thoughts. “I think she called it aromantic, but even then her and Lambert are practically siblings. They’d probably both stab you for suggesting anything else.”

“Right. Noted. Rather not be stabbed. I made it all the way through the school year. It would be a fucking shame if I got stabbed now,” he flicked his fringe from his eyes. “Especially when you look so bloody sexy in that shirt.”

Geralt scoffed. “Says the man wearing a crop top.”

Jaskier grinned and leant forward so his lips were almost touching Geralt’s. “It would look better on your bedroom floor, darling.”

Geralt’s eyes went dark and Jaskier kissed the tip of his nose. “But not yet. I’m starving and these chips are brilliant! I cannot believe you would ruin them with vinegar.”

Geralt groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’re a fucking tease, Jaskier.”

Jaskier just laughed and brushed his foot up against Geralt’s leg under the table. “You love it,” he agreed with a wink.

“Hmm.”

“You doooo,” Jaskier insisted. “And you love me!”

“I admit nothing.”

“I’ll make it up to you later?” He flashed his most flirtatious grin at Geralt, rubbing his foot further up Geralt’s leg.

“Jask,” Geralt half moaned and Jaskier laughed at the pretty blush on Geralt’s cheek.

“Yes, dearest Geralt?” He sang, feigning innocence.

“I hate you.” His boyfriend groaned and hid his face behind his hands.

“I know, love. I know.”

____________________

Jaskier was busy pulling on one of Geralt’s hoodies that he’d pinched earlier on in their relationship, when Geralt sighed loudly. Jaskier bounced back over to the bed and straddled his boyfriend’s hips.

“What’s up, dear heart?” He said with a tilt of his head.

Geralt’s long hair was now loose. Jaskier had taken great delight in undoing his own work and letting the silver strands fall loosely by Geralt’s face. His hair was naturally wavy after a shower anyway but it had been accentuated where the braids had been, and by the gods, Geralt had looked so beautiful. He still did. Only now he had his grumpy face back on. Jaskier gently stroked his thumb along Geralt’s cheek, brushing a loose strand away from his eyes.

“We need to tell Ciri,” Geralt groaned.

“Already? I thought we were going to tell her we’re friends first.”

“Won’t work.”

Jaskier raised an eyebrow and huffed. “And why not?”

“She’s too clever, and I love you,” Geralt grumbled.

Jaskier felt his smile soften at Geralt’s words and he shifted so he could lie back down on Geralt’s chest, nuzzling into the crook of Geralt’s neck. “And I love you, my dearest of hearts.”

“Hmm.” He felt Geralt kiss the top of his hair and he sighed happily.

“So we tell her when?”

“Come home with me?” Geralt suggested. “She knows I was on a date.”

“It has been a long date,” Jaskier hummed thoughtfully, and it really had. Geralt had arrived mid-morning at it was now late afternoon bordering on early evening. “Won’t she be worried about you?”

Geralt chuckled and Jaskier felt his heart race faster in his chest. Geralt’s laugh was so warm, rough and woefully underused. It always made Jaskier’s day when he could make Geralt laugh so freely. “Yennefer took her to the zoo. She thought we might need the extra time.”

Jaskier giggled. “I cannot imagine Yennefer Vengerberg at the zoo!” He laughed harder as he pressed his face against Geralt’s bare shoulder.

“Why?”

“Oh I don’t know,” he grinned, placing a kiss on Geralt’s shoulder. “She seems too classy for the zoo.”

Geralt threaded his fingers through Jaskier’s hair and he hummed in contentment. He’d always enjoyed it when his partners played with his hair. The gentle tug at his scalp just turned him to goo. If he was a cat he was sure he’d be purring. As it was he couldn’t stop the happy hum in his chest.

“No one is too classy for the zoo,” Geralt said with such sincerity that Jaskier let out a peal of laughter and rolled onto the mattress next to Geralt. He felt Geralt roll onto his side and their eyes met. Geralt was smirking at him with mirth in his eyes.

Jaskier was overwhelmed with the love that was in his heart. In reality his time with Geralt really hadn’t been that long at all but it had just been blissful. Their forbidden romance seemed to have extended their honeymoon period and he still felt as gooey over his boyfriend as he had the first time he’d seen Geralt enter his classroom ten months prior.

“Quite right, dear. I love the zoo,” he sighed longingly. It had been ages since he had been.

“Next time we’ll go.” Geralt suggested. “I like the animals.”

“Deal. Ooh does this mean I finally get to meet Roach?!” He cried in excitement, a smile lighting up his face.

Geralt nodded. “She doesn’t like new people though. Don’t get your hopes up.”

Jaskier reached over to kiss Geralt and then rest his forehead against Geralt’s. “Of course not, darling.”

“Good…” Geralt paused. “Darling.”

Jaskier’s heart clenched in his chest and he buried his face in one of the pillows of the bed, making sadly incoherent noises that he wasn’t proud of. “Geralt!!” He whined pitifully. “You can’t just say things like that!”

Geralt scoffed. “You do all the time.”

Jaskier glared at him with a pout. He could feel the heat of the blush on his cheek. “Yeah, well…”

“Don’t worry.” Geralt smirked, kissing Jaskier’s temple. “I don’t think pet names are my thing.”

Jaskier pouted. “Hmmph.”

Reluctantly he rolled off the bed and pulled Geralt to his feet. With one last kiss he let Geralt get dressed. His boyfriend really did need to get back to Ciri and apparently Jaskier was going to be re-introduced to the young girl as her father’s new boyfriend; only a day after the term had finished.

Jaskier wasn’t nervous. Why would he be? Ciri loved him… as her teacher. Oh gods, he was going to fuck this up so badly. His heart was racing, and not in the good I’m in love way. Oh no. No, no, no, no.

He gasped a breath and leant against the wall. Geralt’s arms wrapped around his waist in an instance. “Breathe, Jaskier.”

Jaskier breathed, trying to match his breath with Geralt’s. “Sorry,” he mumbled when the worst of it was over.

“What happened?”

“What if she doesn’t like me?” He asked, his voice sounding pathetic even to his ears.

“She adores you, Jaskier.” Geralt nuzzled his neck gently. “She was disappointed when I said it wasn’t you.”

Jaskier groaned. “She’ll hate that you lied to her.”

“She’ll come round.” Geralt insisted.

“How are you so calm?” He snapped.

Geralt sighed. “Because she’s my daughter and she loves me, and she adores you.”

Jaskier nodded. “Ok. Ok. Yes. Let’s do this, before I run away and decide to live in a cave with just my lute for company.”

Geralt scoffed. “Always so dramatic.”

Jaskier managed a smile at that, even after his little wobble of anxiety. “You wouldn’t have me any other way.”

__________________

They were standing, hand in hand, outside Geralt’s house. Geralt and Ciri’s house. Jaskier hadn’t been here since the beginning of May when Ciri had been away with Yennefer. Ciri wasn’t away this time and they were about to reveal everything to her. He curled his toes in his shoes and hummed nervously under his breath. Geralt’s house suddenly seemed a lot larger than it had before.

Geralt squeezed his hand. “It’ll be fine, Jask.”

He nodded and took a deep breath. “I know. I know. I trust you.”

“Come on then. You’ll stay for dinner?”

Jaskier nodded again. “But I should probably go home after dinner. I imagine we’ll both need our own space by then.”

Geralt chuckled quietly. “Yeah. Ready?”

“Yes?” Jaskier’s voice squeaked a little, much to his embarrassment.

“Good.” Geralt moved to unlock the front door but it opened before he could get the key in the lock.

Yennefer stood on the other side with her hands on her hips. She was smirking at them both, looking far too evilly delighted for Jaskier’s liking.

“MR JASKIER!!” Ciri shrieked and there was a blur of blonde hair before Jaskier was knocked flying by the young girl.

He laughed nervously and hugged her back. “Hello, Ciri.”

“I knew it was you!!” She screamed happily. “Dad said it wasn’t but I knew it was you!”

“You don’t mind?” Jaskier asked, tentatively patting his former student on the back as she clung onto him.

Ciri pulled back and looked up at him. Her nose was scrunched up and she pouted. “Why would I mind?”

“Well, because I was your teacher and now I’m dating your father?” Jaskier stammered. He glanced at Geralt who just raised a knowing eyebrow at him. The bastard had known this would happen.

Ciri rolled her eyes and scoffed. “So? Everyone will be jealous. You’re the best teacher at school!”  She announced as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

He laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. “Maybe you shouldn’t boast too much about it Ciri. It’s not kind.”

Ciri just stuck her tongue out at him. He stuck his tongue out right back at her and she giggled.

“Jaskier’s right, princess. It would be best if you don’t tell everyone just yet,” Geralt said as he scooped her up into a hug.

“But it’s Mistle’s birthday party next week!” She pouted.

“Ciri,” Yennefer sighed, brushing the young girl’s hair out of her eyes. “Can we trust you to keep this a secret for now?”

Ciri scrunched her nose but nodded. “Ok, but only if we can go back to see the lions at the zoo! They were my favourite.”

Jaskier met Geralt’s eyes and smiled. “Well, buttercup, funny you should say that….”

____________

Next

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt/jaskier #geraskier fanfiction #the witcher fanfiction #modern au #wolfie's witcher writing

[lassieposting]

If you happen to still be doing the Domestic Ship thing, how about Ella/Reformed!Michael?

i havent done this in a while but i am a slut for michaella so absolutely, anon

send me a ship and i’ll tell you:

who reaches out to new neighbors

technically they both go but really, it’s ella. she takes cookies, or cake, and she hugs the neighbours, and plays with their pet, and chats to their children. she also takes michael! by physically dragging him by the wrist. and he kinda hangs out behind her and awkward nods and is generally just sort of lowkey menacing. he’s not a natural socialite. 

who remembers to buy healthy food

michael. he’s rather fond of this human and apparently almost everything on this planet could potentially kill her off. he’s pretty invested in making sure she eats the correct amount of nutrients. 

who remembers to buy junk food

ella, because what is the point if you can’t eat cake, dude?

who fixes the oven when it breaks

ella will give it a fair go. she used to steal cars, she’s pretty handy and knows her way around a toolbox. michael on the other hand is useless for that kind of thing, so he’s “moral support”. 

who waters the plants/feeds their pet(s)

michael waters the plants, ella looks after margaret the bathtub chicken. margaret doesn't like michael, which makes going to the bathroom at ella's apartment a trial fraught with danger, but watering her plants is a simple, regular task that she always praises him for, which is a nice element of stability for a man who's spent the last few billion years as a pawn in the middle of a blazing celestial divorce and is now struggling to get his own feet under him on Earth.

who wakes up earlier

ella. she's a morning person. michael is Not. it inevitably "wakes" him when she gets up and starts her morning routine, but by the time he hauls his ass out of bed she's gone for a run, had her cereal, fed margaret, checked her emails, called her mom...

michael will sell his soul for five extra minutes of naughty sleep after the alarm goes off.

who makes the bed

neither of them.  they messy.

who makes the coffee

they'll take turns.

who burns breakfast

michael, but she’s very endeared that he tried. ella claims she “can’t cook”, but it’s the latina version of “can’t cook”, so by anyone else's standard her food is to die for

how do they let each other know they’re leaving the house

i imagine Ella's apartment as very small. almost a bedsit. unless one of them is in the bathroom with the door closed, they can see the other one leaving. They also tend to leave together; Michael is insular and will avoid going out unless she makes him, so she'll usually nudge him to Go Do Something around the same time she's leaving for work in the morning. Something is usually "go to the grocery store" or "hide out in Ikea". Michael does not have a sparkling social life.

how do they greet each other when one of them gets home

michael noisily lets himself in through the front door. he had to stop just appearing in the middle of the living room after the whole pete debacle, it'd scare the shit out of ella and he'd end up getting shoe-slapped.

ella is usually mid-sentence on the phone to someone when she gets in, so he can always hear her coming down the hall before she even hits the front door.

who brings home little gifts like flowers/chocolates more often

Ella. She's that kind of thoughtful - and she likes getting a smile out of her grumpy gus. Michael isn't great at romance - like, he tries, sometimes, but he's a cheapskate with no actual income now that he's lost access to Lucifer's bank account, so he'd need to be prompted to buy little gifts.

who picks the movie for movie night

They play rock paper scissors for it, which is Ella's idea. Best of three, winner picks the movie, loser picks the snacks. Michael's attempts to make it "rock, paper, scissors, wings" (wings beats everything) have so far been denied.

their favorite kind of movie to watch

Feel-good family comedies for Ella, crime thrillers for Michael. He really enjoyed getting to play detective with Chloe while he was pretending to be Lucifer.

who first suggests a pillow fort

Ella, obviously. No angel would waste his time on that kind of pointless frivolity. Except for Lucifer, maybe, and Lucifer is a shameless degenerate, so he probably just fucks in them. Wait...is the whole point to fuck in them?

who builds the pillow fort

Michael, and he takes it very seriously. If this pillow fort is a measure of his worthiness as a partner, he is going to make the most impressive pillow fort Ella has ever seen, and then hopefully she will fuck him in it.

who tries to distract the other during the movie

It's Michael, but not because he’s horny. He just has A Lot of questions. Who is that guy? Is that the same guy as the other guy? Why's she doing that again? Is that the same actress from, oh, you know, the thing. The thing thing. With Chloe's mom? That thing. Wait what's happening what did they just say?

who falls asleep first

Ella. She cuddles up close and drapes her arm over his hips and Michael lies awake until she dozes off praying he doesn't get a boner

who is big spoon/little spoon

Ella is an octopus cuddler and usually the little spoon, but she is 100% open to switch. Michael just sort of...isn't sure how he feels about being held, yet.

#lucifer on netflix #lucifer headcanons #michaella #lucifer on fox #netflix lucifer #anon

[youngbloodlisk]

[1700] // Kevin Moon

request: "can I request an angst with kevin where you get jealous over other girls being all over him and you both get into an argument and then make up a few days later?"

- kevin moon angst

- way too short i'm so sorry anon :(

- never feel like you need to apologize for being detailed, the more detail provided = the better

- this took 26825278393 years to publish i'm sorry again

This sucks.

This seriously sucks.

I have no idea what's gotten into me these past few weeks.

They never used to bother me, so why now?

I knew going into this relationship that this is how things would be. I used to be one of these people, in fact.

Yet here I sit, biting my tongue, as he's laughing and smiling at tweets and comments on his latest photos.

"Baby, listen to this one-"

Tell me: would you be jumping for joy if people all over the world treated your boyfriend like their own?

If you just said yes, you're a liar.

It doesn't matter if it's on social media or in person, fans are all over him. Not only with support and with love, but with sexual innuendos, and marriage proposals, and telling him how attractive and hot and sexy he is.

Don't even get me started on the way some select female idols look at him backstage sometimes. It's not public to the world, but it's common knowledge among idols that Kevin is dating someone. These girls are staring at my boyfriend, knowing full well he's someone's boyfriend, with hungry eyes.

Makes me sick.

And he seems entirely oblivious to the jealousy growing inside me.

Until now, that is.

"Hey, are you alright?" He tilts his phone down to look at me with concern.

"Hm? No, yeah. Fine."

"No, you're not. I know you. What's the matter, baby?" His phone clicks as he turns the screen off, tuning in to me.

"You just seem to really be enjoying all the comments from deobis..."

"Yeah, aren't they fun?" His cheerful demeanor only pisses me off more.

"Whatever." I scoff.

"What's with the attitude?"

"Gee, maybe it's because you spend half your day working and the other half reading comments and fancafé letters. " I spit out with a hateful tone.

He suddenly seems a bit taken aback and almost offended.

I can't blame him for having that sort of reaction. Even fans know that he loves reading fancafe letters and stuff. It's one of his favorite things in the world, and usually that wouldn't be an issue. So, why is it such a issue now?

"Of course I do. They're my fans, I love to see what they have to say. Do you have a problem with that?"

"When you've been paying them more attention than you've been paying your girlfriend? Yeah, Kevin. I kinda do."

Kevin tries to stay calm, I can tell, but he can't stand to listen to it.

Deobis might be surprised if they saw how worked up Kevin can get so fast, if he has the right reason to be. We don't argue often at all, but whenever we do, he's the one to escalate the tone in a split second without even thinking about it.

"More attention?! We just had a comeback recently, the fan interaction is at a high right now, you know how that works. What about our date two nights ago? What about last week when I cooked you dinner three times? What about just now when I stopped reading comments because I was concerned for you? Are you kidding? Self-centered much..." He mutters the last part under his breath while rolling his eyes.

"Excuse me? Self-centered? Says the guy obsessed with people who are obsessed with HIM."

"Not my fault I have fans. At least they don't complain all the time!"

"You'd rather talk to your adoring fans than your girlfriend?"

"Sometimes, yeah, maybe I do!"

"Fine! Then you can go date Moonlight number 532." I stand up and storm out of the house without another word, ignoring every shout from him to come back.

I did go back that day, but we lived in almost pure silence for four days.

The occasional few words, only when necessary. That's it.

Unless we start arguing again.

I wanna apologize, I really do.

My pride won't let me, but I'm really tired of fighting with him.

Thank goodness his pride isn't as stubborn as mine is.

Five days after the initial argument, I'm in the bathroom brushing my teeth before bed.

Thoughts and feelings have been stirring this whole time. Mixing, flaring, calming.

I don't know what either of us are thinking lately.

What if this drives us apart?

Will one of us make the move and break up with the other?

Kevin pushes the cracked door open and silently comes behind me before wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his head on my shoulder.

In the mirror, I take in his expression.

Broken down.

Red cheeks.

Red eyes.

Puffy.

Shiny.

His jaw is trembling ever so slightly.

He's been crying.

Not crying, sobbing.

Wet, messy, desperate sobbing.

I feel my heart drop at the sight.

"What are you doing, Kevin?" I ask, rinsing the excess toothpaste off my toothbrush.

"I'm sick of fighting with you, baby." His voice is shaky and slightly strained. "You were right. I had been neglecting you, in exchange for paying more attention to the fans than usual. It's my job as your boyfriend to balance work and home. I'm so sorry, my angel..." Kevin's face contorts slightly, signaling that his emotions were beginning to bubble up again, and his eyes grow watery.

I quickly wipe my mouth off with the hand-towel on the counter and turn around to embrace him. I hold him tight and his grip tightens as well.

"No, Kevin, I overreacted. Majorly overreacted. You're an idol, this is your job. Part of that job is fan interaction, I know that. I knew that from the start. I'm so sorry." My voice cracks, and my own tears start to form.

We stay there for a few minutes before we decide to go to bed.

Hugging, crying on and off, appreciating what we have: each other.

Because I think we were both scared we almost lost it.

I was at least.

Terrified that my overreaction had been the final straw to drive him away forever.

Almost every night between our argument and make up, I laid awake in bed hours after he'd already fallen asleep.

The thought of waking up to Kevin having left without warning was far too paralyzing to be able to sleep easily.

Maybe one day I'll tell him that...

#kevin moon angst #kevin angst #the boyz kevin angst #the boyz angst #tbz angst #ciiikbwork

[jaeheewillalwaysbemyfav]

Hello if you're not comfortable doing this please ignore - but how would the brothers from obey me react if they found mc self harming?

CW: Mention and discussion of self harm.

Heads up: I’m not an Expert on this - I know a bit about what it’s like, but let’s just say it’s not the typical horizontal scars (or even super visible longterm at all), so I don’t know much about things like that. Nor do I know what the proper protocol is if you find someone self-harming, so please don’t take this as any kind of advice. (Plus even if I knew Exactly what it is you’re supposed to do, this is the brothers’ reactions: they’re not gonna be experts either, certainly not on the fly with someone so close to them)

I repeat: I’m not an expert and this should not be taken as advice.

If you’re struggling with self harm or suicidal ideation, please consider taking a look at some of these websites/numbers.

I know it can be rough, but trust me, the pros of staying here and taking care of yourself outweigh the cons.

Obey Me: The Brothers Find MC Self Harming

Lucifer

Protective Older Brother Mode™ Engaged. His more immediate concern is stopping them from continuing, especially if it looks like they’re at risk of dying or seriously damaging themself. Any lighter/blade/etc. is getting taken out of their hands asap. He might hurt them a little bit if they resist, more from the sheer difference in strength than anything else.

Next step is cleaning and bandaging any wounds they have. His first instinct is the bathroom, but if they (quite understandably) don’t want to walk around the House of Lamentation with their self-harm injuries out, he’ll go get them and bring them back to their room (keeping whatever implement they were using on him, of course).

Despite his initial urgency, he’s very careful when dressing their injuries. Once that’s taken care of, he’ll ask them point-blank why they were doing what they were doing. He’s not stupid, he knows they were self-harming the second he found them, but he wants to hear their explanation.

Whether or not they tell him, he’s still tense like a live wire is running through him: he’s used to his brothers getting hurt because of recklessness or war injuries rip, but someone deliberately hurting themselves for no apparent reason is a little out of his wheelhouse. He doesn’t want to upset the MC further, but he also can’t allow this behaviour to continue.

In the end, the two reach a compromise: whenever they feel like hurting themself, they’ll let him know, and he’ll keep them company and try and take their mind off it until the urge passes.

And if they relapse, he’ll help them with tending to the wounds.

Mammon

Mammon’s… probably one of the worst to catch MC self-harming tbh, in terms of keeping his cool. In the panic of seeing blood or burns, he might not even connect the dots right away and think they’d been attacked by something. But if he sees the MC holding what they’ve been using to hurt themselves…

It’s like a bucket of cold water was dropped on him. He’s horrified, he’s furious - not with them, but in a more cosmic sense that being powerless can cause - he’s yelling; what are you doing, how could you, how long, how did he not notice how his human was feeling-?!

He suddenly pulls the MC in for a hug, and they can feel his tears on their back. Every single time he’s called them a stupid, weak human is running through his mind like a sick movie, and there’s a part of him that thinks it’s his fault that MC feels so terribly about themself that they’d do this.

He’s not good at first aid, but by god (or Diavolo, I guess?) he tries to wrap up MC’s wounds. It doesn’t help that he’s still quite shaky, but in the end they have a thick, sloppily wrapped layer of gauze on their injuries.

For a little while after, he’ll be even more clingy than usual, refusing to leave the MC’s side unless absolutely necessary. If the attention is suffocating, they’ll have to let him know, and reassure him that they won’t hurt themself while he’s gone for it to subside even a little bit. His tsundere act drops a fair bit too. He’ll still boast about being the GREAT Mammon, but any digs at them are extremely rare and even more tentative (they’d have to have another chat with him if this difference in treatment bothered them).

If the MC wanted to keep it a secret from the other brothers, Mammon would try and respect that, but he’ll inevitably ask one of them for help and they’ll figure out something is up pretty quick. Maybe not with MC specifically, but there is a strong suspicion. If they did figure it out, he’d make them swear not to tell MC or treat them differently: he doesn’t want them to feel worse.

Leviathan

Levi is no stranger to issues of self-esteem, but this is another level for him. He’d kind of freeze on the spot for a moment, unsure of what to do; social skills aren’t his forte in the best of circumstances and this… even if he wasn’t a shut-in, he’s not sure how he’d handle this.

He squeaked out the MC’s name when he first entered their room, and they’re now locked in a grim staring contest. If they don’t move or say anything, he’ll slowly close the door and approach them. If they flinch away, he’ll cringe and briefly panic, but steel himself and stick around. MC’s his best friend, and they need him right now.

Hey… he says. It’s okay… Well, it’s actually super extremely not okay, but I’m not mad or anything, you know? Pause. I… I never thought someone like you would do this. You’re so brave, and cool, and smart, and… you see something in a yucky otaku like me. You helped me be - you’re my best friend, alright? You’re an amazing, strong person, and don’t you forget it!

The Avatar of Envy knows that emotions can make one do irrational things, and he wants MC to know that he doesn’t think any less of them for this. When they’re all bandaged up, he pulls out a roll of TSL or Ruri-chan themed stickers and practically covers MC’s dressings in them. Then he does the same to himself, so if anyone sees and asks about it, he’ll say it’s just a friend thing they did together.

Levi still has a tendency to stay in his room more often than not, but now makes a point to check up on MC every so often, usually when they get home from school or at night. If they seem down or tell him they’re having thoughts of hurting themself again, he’ll invite them to play a no-stress game with him or watch some lighthearted anime. He’ll also avoid anything that could trigger you in your normal binge-watching sessions.

Satan

Satan doesn’t trust himself to move or even speak when he finds MC self-harming. He’s scared; scared that they’ll go too far, scared that he’ll say the wrong thing, scared that he’ll hurt them further if he slips up and snaps at them, scared to move.

Move, he thinks to himself, do something.

Without a word, he goes and grabs some first aid supplies. If anyone asks him what he’s doing or tries to bother him about something else, he’ll snap at them; he’s frazzled enough that he might even slip into his demon form.

This will sting, but it’s a good disinfectant. Good, focus on what he’s doing. It’s concrete, he knows this. Once MC is taken care of, he reluctantly asks them how long they’ve been doing this. Where they keep their supplies. How often.

He won’t ask why. He knows how it feels to want to destroy something so much you’ll turn on yourself.

If they’re comfortable with it, he’ll do everything he can to help. Harm reduction methods, finding alternative activities, keep MC distracted when they’re not feeling well, help them “ride the wave” (where whenever you feel the urge to self harm, you stop and wait 15 minutes - if you still feel that way, wait another 15, until it passes), anything to help them. Either way, he’s reading up on all he can about self-harm and how to help someone struggling with it.

He’ll do a lot of the alternate activities with MC so they don’t feel weird about doing it alone. Asmo once asked them what the hell they were doing holding ice cubes in their mouths and Satan’s response was to spit his out at his brother at a velocity that left a dent in the wall. He’ll also ask if they want to join him on his walks.

Also, because you’ll take the headcanon that Satan volunteers at the devildom equivalent of the SPCA out of my cold, dead hands, pet therapy! Provided MC isn’t allergic/doesn’t have an issue with cats, he’ll invite them to come with him and meet and pet the cats. It’s very hard to feel any sort of negative emotion when surrounded by cats, after all.

Asmodeus

Oh. This is why MC was so reluctant to let him dress them up.

Asmo has enough self esteem to rival the entirety of Hollywood’s divas, but he loves MC just as much, if not more, than himself. It breaks his heart to know that they don’t feel the same way about themselves.

He can’t charm them, but that doesn’t stop him from gently trying to coax them to put down the implement they’re using to hurt themself. Once he has it, he goes to get first aid supplies. MC hears a particularly loud THUNK as something is whipped into the garbage with uncharacteristic aggression.

Asmo will carefully and gently patch them up, finishing his handiwork with soft kisses on top of everywhere that was injured. He wants MC to know that they’re loved, and important, and that this doesn’t change any of that.

If they have scars that they want to cover up, he’ll at first encourage them to be proud of their battle scars, but if they really don’t want others to see them, he’ll create a whole new wardrobe for MC that is both stylish and covers up what they’d like to keep hidden. He almost certainly has knowledge of and access to all sorts of skincare products that can help scars heal and fade, if MC would like that.

For every time he has something nice to say about himself, he will say something nice about MC too. In fact, MC will find that Asmo is always offering them spa trips, to come to this or that party, to check out the latest sale at Majolish... If ever they need something to distract them, Asmo is there.

They’ll find little notes in elegant cursive hidden all over their room. Sometimes they’re compliments, or flirty puns related to where the note is. Other times they’re gentle reminders -messages like don’t forget to take your medicine! and stay hydrated for you and your skin! line the bathroom mirror.

One way or another, Asmo won’t let MC forget that even if they don’t feel good about themself, someone else sure does.

Beelzebub

Beel already has a history with losing loved ones, and like Lucifer, panics a bit upon finding MC self-harming. He’ll quickly get rid of whatever it is they’re using to hurt themself, and MC will have a hard time trying to stop him. Expect lots of tears and hugs as he helps them get cleaned up.

He asks MC why they’d ever want to do that to themself. Do they not want to live? Do they think no one would care? Because Beel absolutely cares and very much wants them to live.

MC has now acquired one (1) Self-Care-Maintenance Demon. Beelzebub refuses to let them neglect themself in any way: no skipping meals, no missing schoolwork, no time for downward spirals, Beel will help however he can to keep MC on top of things. Even if it means going hungry for a while, he can’t really eat anything until he’s sure they’re okay.

This isn’t to say that Beel is some sort of drill sergeant, not by any means. If MC is too bogged down to handle something, he’ll either take care of it, or help them find some sort of work around. His goal is to minimize their distress, so they don’t feel like doing that ever again.

He’s not totally naive though: he understands that these things don’t go away in a day. Whenever MC feels the urge to harm themselves, Beel is there: is MC up for a workout? How about popping by Hell’s Kitchen with him? Do they... can he hug them?

Basically, he wants to ease their pain however he can. He’s lost people before, and he refuses to do so again, not if he can help it.

Belphegor

Belphie is no stranger to self-harm, though his is more in the form of neglect. He feels like he doesn’t deserve those things, so why bother? Seeing MC self-harming though... it’s a wake-up call for the Avatar of Sloth. They both can’t keep doing this.

Honestly, the two become a bit of a mess for a while. Belphie wants to help them and make sure they’re okay, so much so that he starts overworking himself without regard for his own wellbeing, which makes MC feel guilty, so they overwork to help him, but this aggravates their symptoms, which upsets Belphie because he’s trying to help and it’s not working! - and they both end up an exhausted, sobbing mess on the floor, cry-yelling at each other to stop being so stubborn and just let me help you!

At that, Belphegor starts laughing. We’re really bad at this... he says with a sardonic smile. If MC is the type, they may start laughing with him.

From there, the two decide to make a pact (no, not that kind): they will work together to both help themselves, and each other. No mutually assured exhaustion, no destructive cycles of overworking, just support and stumbling into becoming functional together.

MC helps keep Belphegor awake during classes, and Belphegor makes sure MC sleeps through the night. They have their meals together. If one of them is feeling down, the other one is there to comfort them. This involves a lot of game nights with Beel, and of course the healing power of naps, Belphie’s version of the fifteen minute rule.

If MC is really struggling, Belphie will take them up to the planetarium and arrange a game: if they can name all the constellations in the sky in 20 minutes, he won’t stop them from getting their lighter/blade/etc. Regardless of how many MC manages to name, he always says they missed some, even if he makes them up.

You forgot Faustus Minor.

You’re making that one up!

Nope. Iblis’ Tunic too. Guess you’re stuck for another 20 minutes of cuddles.

(I hope this is satisfactory!)

#Anonymous #obey me #obey me headcanon #cw: self harm #self harm tw #lucifer #mammon #leviathan #satan #asmodeus #beelzebub #belphegor #if they seem wildly different from each other in terms of what i cover #it's because i wrote them at different times #so i apologize for the lack of consistency #mine #my writing

[asphalt-cocktail]

For the Sake of Content- Chapter 6

Chapter 6: $2 Beers and Ghosts

Summary: After walking in on your long-term boyfriend, Harrison, cheating on you and then losing your job the following day; your find yourself broke, jobless, and single for the first time in a long while. In order to make ends meet, your best friend since college, Freddie, suggests you start soliciting explicit photos of yourself, not only to help boost your confidence but to help pay the rent for his band mate’s apartment you just moved into.

A/N: Welcome to the chapter that has finally forced me to change the warnings. I hope you all enjoy it; it’s super long and a I’m pretty proud of the chapter overall! Thank you for all of your kind words and messages, asks, likes, reblogs, everything because I seriously love seeing all of those things in my notifications they all make me super happy! I haven’t started the next chapter so I am super behind but I am hopefully going to get started sometime this weekend. Since school started back up I will go back down to a once a week posting schedule unless I can squeeze in more!

Pairing: Roger Taylor x F!Reader

Warnings: Language, mentions of sex work, smut, angst, fluff, some friendly banter between roger and reader, alcohol, cigarettes i think?, not proof read

Word Count: 6.2k back on my bullshit

18+ if you are a minor do NOT interact with this post. This is fictitious content and I own nothing.

A week had passed, and you and Roger still hadn’t had sex, but you did note that he was still actively watching your premium snapchat story which was an interesting observation.

Today, like most days, was spent lounging in your room while mindlessly scrolling through your social media feed with Netflix just making noise in the background.

“[Y/N]!” Roger’s distant and muffled voice almost blended in with the episode of Bob’s Burgers you had playing in the background.

“What!” You called back hopefully loud enough for him to hear.

Your call either went unheard or he chose to ignore it to get you out of the confines of your room. You groaned and pulled yourself from your bed, clad in only a pair of panties and an old faded tee-shirt and made your way down the hall.

You stopped mid step and noted the bathroom door ajar, “[Y/N]!” Roger’s call rang against your ears and you rolled your eyes.

“I’m right here, you daft asshole.” You snapped, pushing the bathroom door open and taking in the scene.

Roger was very obviously dying his hair, you didn’t know why but decided to not ask questions. Pieces of Roger’s hair were clipped and tied up, he had around half of his hair dyed, “Can you help me with the back?” His voice sounded close to a pleading whine, but you found that that was just how he asked for things.

You looked at the bottle in his gloved hands and frowned, “Don’t I get a pair of gloves?” you asked, your eyes narrowing and arms crossing over your chest.

Roger let out a soft sigh from his pouty mouth and rolled his eyes, “It’s just bleach.” He mumbled.

You scoffed, “Just bleach! You trying to have my skin melt off?” You grabbed the box of hair dye and tipped it upside down, directions and the packets of shampoo and conditioner tumbled out onto the counter, “Give me your gloves, why do you even need to bleach your hair? Aren’t you blond enough?” You frowned taking Roger’s wrist in your own and slipped his glove off before putting it on your hand and frowning at the residual moisture that coated the inside before Roger handed you the second one.

Once your hands were properly covered you grabbed the bottle and started squirting the liquid into his hair, saturating his natural dirty blonde roots. “You never answered my question.” You pressed, kneading your fingers into his scalp.

“What? Oh, about the bleaching?” Roger asked, his wide blue eyes peering at you through the mirror. He shrugged absent mindedly and licked his lips, “Dunno, I just like it better.”

You hummed in response, the answer didn’t satisfy you at all but you pushed the gnawing feeling in your gut aside and focused on coating Roger’s darker locks with the pungent smelling liquid, “You should really get ammonia free stuff,” You mumbled scraping your fingers lightly against his scalp. You couldn’t ignore the visible shutter that ran through Roger as he reacted to the pressure your fingers provided.

There was a moment of tension filled silence in the room before Roger broke it, slicing through it with a knife “So, why were you kicked out your old place?” He asked, suddenly the room was filled with more tension, welding it back up tight.

You swallowed thickly and let out a sigh “Well, I was sort of… I mean I offered to leave, I wasn’t kicked out.” You mumbled trying to find your words to best explain the situation, “I… uh… I walked in on my ex cheating on me.” You felt a sudden surge of suppressed emotions threaten to break through the wall you had built up. You let out a bitter laugh at the memory if it, “He told me I was boring,” the cursed word dripped off your tongue like poison.

Roger could sense the resentment, “Sorry,” He said softly, avoiding your gaze in the mirror “I shouldn’t have asked.”

You shrugged, “It’s fine, bound to come up.” Your melancholy hung in the air uncomfortably, “I’m finished.” You said giving his head a light pat before tossing the gloves and bottle of bleach onto the counter, “If you need me, you know where to find me.” You said throwing him a quick smile and slinking back into your room.

Between the time you entered your room and now, you ended up falling asleep. The pounding on your bedroom door woke you up, your throat and sinuses felt gummy from the dry air that consumed your apartment; Jesus, you and Roger really needed to invest in a humidifier. “What!” You croaked, pulling your blanket like a hood around your ears to shield yourself from the intruder.

Roger barged in “Put your boots on, we’re going out!” He said throwing the blanket off your sleepy form, “You know, those heeled ones that Freddie likes.”

You groaned, “I don’t wanna go out, Rog, I want to sleep.” You protested, curling into your body and shielding your eyes from the light he turned on.

“Shut up, you’re just sulking.” Roger said bluntly while throwing your closet open and looking through your clothes, “Christ, Fred was right, you have a drab wardrobe.” He frowned before he pulled out several articles of clothing and threw them on your tee shirt clad body, “Come on, I told you we’re going out.”

You sat up and frowned at Roger, “I don’t want to go out,” You protested, looking down at what you assumed would be a tacky outfit he picked out for you. You couldn’t help but allow a smile to creep along your features while watching him frantically buzzing around your room.

Roger sat on the bed, forcing himself next to you and playfully leaned into you, knocking your shoulder with his, “Come on, I want to show off my touch up.” Roger said running his hand through his freshly dyed and washed locks.

A laugh bubbled out of you and you flopped back onto the bed with your arms spread out like a starfish, “Fine, I’ll go out.” You said, “Get out so I can change.” You said playfully shoving him.

Within the hour you found yourself with Roger in the back of a too crowded bar clutching $2 beers. You were pressed uncomfortably close to each other and breathing recycled sweaty air, but Roger was in his element. He mingled with the other patrons that frequented the dingey space while you hovered close behind him, averting your gaze from the strangers because you simply did not want to put forward the effort that was required for meet new people.

It wasn’t a surprise when you noticed several girls approaching Roger, hooking their arms around his waist, and whispering suggestive comments into his ear. But, to your surprise he politely put his hand up and rejected their advances, which in turn earned you a glare from the women.

“Roger if one more woman looks at me like that, I’m going to throw hands.” You muttered, crossing your arms over your chest.

Roger grinned at you, “Feeling jealous?” He asked quirking his head at you with a boyish grin plastered on his face.

You grinned, “No, you didn’t pay those girls $65 to see their nudes.”

Roger gaped at you, his face flushing to the tips of his ears before he broke out into a fit of laughter that you couldn’t help but join.

Your fleet of laughter was cut short when your stomach knotted up and a feeling of nausea washed over you. “Rog,” You whispered digging your elbow into his side.

“Ow,” He mumbled, still trying to curb the little chuckles that left his mouth, “What?” He asked following your gaze.

You reached down and gripped his hand tightly in your own, your palms were coated with a layer of nervous sweat “That’s him.” You whispered nudging your head towards your infamous ex, Harrison.

Roger scoffed, “Him?” he shook his head, shaking his hand from yours and wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you flush against him, “That’s the guy that said YOU were boring?” You shivered feeling Roger’s thumb rubbing at the small sliver of exposed skin, “He looks like a bloody accountant. Should we go over?”

The devilish glint in his eye should have made you uneasy; however, much to your surprise you found it had the exact opposite effect, but stilled allowed your intrusive thoughts get the best of you. “I don’t know Rog,” You shifted, looking down at your feet.

Roger’s face softened, “Come on, it’ll be fun, we can make fun of him.” Roger said in a sing-song tone and leaning into you.

Your face flushed with heat and you averted his gaze to try and hide the smile that was threatening to crack the surface, “Fine.” You mumbled.

Roger grinned and pulled you by your waist through the crowd in the direction of Harrison, but suddenly stopped, “Go over there, I’m going to get a refill,” He said pulling away, letting his hand drag across the swell of your ass, “Just follow my lead.”

You don’t know why, but for some wild reason you trusted what Roger said, giving him a curt not before watching him leave for the bar. You approached your ex and your stomach began knotting up with nerves. Maybe trusting Roger and following his lead was a mistake?

You inhaled deeply before tapping his shoulder lightly, “Harrison!” You said greeting the man with a fake smile once he turned and faced you.

Harrison’s eyes locked at you, wide with shock and he drank in your figure “[Y/N] …” He said trailing off, “Wow, you- you look great.” A small smile played on his lips, “How have you been?”

You felt your stomach clench both with sentimentality and a weird tinge of nausea, “I’ve been fine, how have you been?” You asked, suddenly very focused on your can of beer

“Oh well, you know,” He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

“No, I don’t know,” You answered, clenching your jaw after you spoke from pure frustration, the nerve of this asshole.

Harrison let out a deep sigh, “It’s been okay, I miss you around the house.” He sounded… sad, you almost caught yourself caring for a brief moment.

That moment left your head as soon as Roger walked up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and quickly butted into the conversation, “Who is this, love?” he asked, his hands firmly gripping you  as he buried his face into your neck. Humming affectionately, Roger buried his face into the crook of your neck and smirked before he began to lick and suck on your soft skin.

You clutched Roger’s wrist tightly, “Rog, this is-uh,” Your mind was nearly wiped blank when you felt his hands begin rubbing up and down your sides and inching forward, threatening to caress the underside of your breasts. Your eyes fluttered and you fought to keep them open, “Oh right- sorry,” you said, suddenly remembering Harrison standing right in front of you. You tapped Roger’s wrist lightly and he pulled away from your neck for a moment, “Rog this is my ex; Harrison, you know the one I walked in on cheating on me.” You added the last bit and secretly hoped it hurt him as much as it hurt you.

Harrison pursed his lips and reached his hand out for Roger to shake, but was ignored, “Is this your…?” He trailed off, leaving the question open for you to answer.

“Roger?” You purposefully ignored finishing his sentence with a fulfilling answer, “He’s in Fred’s band.”

Harrison scrunched his nose up, he never liked Freddie and therefore didn’t like anyone he associated with, “Right, well I’m hope whatever this is goes well.” He said motioning between you and Roger.

Roger grinned up at Harrison, flashing his dazzlingly straight teeth “It’s going great, mate.” He answered, “I don’t know why you’d ever call her boring, you ever feel that little thing she does with her tongue where she- ow!” You quickly pinched Roger’s forearm, causing him to jump.

“Are you still with that girl you fucked in our bed?” You didn’t know why you asked, you really didn’t want to hear the answer to the question.

Harrison was uncomfortable; Good, you thought, Fucking prick. “Yeah, actually I am. She’s in the toilet right now.” He said nodding his head towards the bathroom.

You glanced over at Roger and noticed the frown on his face, “Right,” Roger mumbled, abruptly nuzzling his nose into the side of your cheek, his skin was soft, and he smelled like high end cologne and beer. The scent was surprisingly comforting, and you felt yourself relax into the grip he firmly held. You turned your head to face him and made eye contact. You locked eyes with his, despite the dimly lit bar Roger’s eyes seemed brighter than ever and they darted from your eyes, to your lips, and back up to your eyes before he leaned in.

Your lips touched and you let out a sigh, feeling his soft lips against yours. Your hands came up and lightly rested on his cheek. His mouth molded against yours and it was as if every movement he made was well thought out and had a purpose. Roger’s tongue swiped across your bottom lip and you sighed, opening your mouth and allowing his tongue to rub against yours, he tasted like cheap beer and Marlboro Red cigarettes; a taste that was somehow only unique to Roger.

Roger pulled back and he smirked at you with kiss swollen lips when he heard Harrison clearing his throat, reminding the two of you that he was still present, “We’ll we’re going to leave and have hot passionate sex back at our apartment, so have a good night I suppose.” He flashed a cheeky grin and waved at Harrison before pulling you through the crowd with him.

When you arrived at the apartment you crossed your arms over your chest, flicking the light on and looked at your neck in the hallway mirror “What the fuck, Rog,” You hissed, craning your neck to get a view of the big obvious mark he left on your neck.

Roger grinned, approaching you from behind and wrapping his arms around your waist, just like he did in the bar, “What? Think it made him jealous?” He asked, his hands rubbing against your sides and tummy caused you to shiver.

You turned, looking over at him and hummed, “What you mean you hanging all over me like a horny teenager?” You couldn’t help but laugh, “I don’t know, but I thought it was funny.”

And I want you to kiss me again

You silently cursed your intrusive though and the throbbing between your legs you had been able to ignore since your brief kiss at the bar. Roger’s eyes looked hazy and glazed over, “Yeah?” He asked, his voice slightly breathy. It made your stomach clench and suddenly the air felt hot and you tugged at the collar of your shirt and shifted your stance, trying to do anything to prevent you from being awkward in this situation.

When you shifted you felt Roger’s body go ridged while his light breaths hitched in his throat, “What did you think was funny?” His voice was unsteady and soft, almost like he didn’t trust how his tone would hold in your shared apartment.

You looked at him in the hallway mirror, “Did you see his face after we kissed?” You couldn’t help but bring it up, the memory playing in your brain while you turned around to face Roger, your hands resting lightly on his hips.

A small laugh bubbled out from him and he looked down at you through his thick eyelashes, “What if… What if we did it again?” he asked with a boyish grin splayed across his face.

You felt heat crawling up the back of your neck and spreading across your cheeks and the tips of your ears, “Like kiss again?” you swallowed thickly and found yourself breathing heavier, “Yeah, that… that would be alright.”

Roger inhaled deeply “I’m going to kiss you, okay?” He asked, cupping your face softly in one hand and keeping the other firmly planted on your hips. You nodded, your eyes searching his face for any sign of emotion; for once he wasn’t the smooth rumored philanderer that ate your Golden Grahams and changed his outfit three times a day; he was just Roger, a nervous and wide-eyed man about to kiss his roommate in their dark apartment.

He slowly tipped your chin up and licked his lips nervously before he finally closed the gap. It was even more electrifying than the first kiss you shared in the bar. The darkness of your apartment swallowed the two of you whole like an abyss and the impossible silence caused your light pants and gasps to hammer against your ears. Your hands reached up and you ran your fingers through Roger’s messy long hair and let out a soft moan as he sucked on your lower lip, dragging his teeth across it as he pulled away.

Roger stepped back, lightly pushing you by your hips against the wall and rested one of his hands by the side of your head while he began to kiss along your jaw and trailed down to your neck, lightly sucking and biting at the mark he left earlier and leaving a trail of new ones in his wake. His knee pushed itself between your thighs and you jumped at the sudden pressure between your legs before you pressed down, grinding hard against him.

Your head tilted back against the wall and gripped Roger’s shoulder tightly while he gripped your hips and held you firmly against his leg, smirking against your neck when he felt you wantonly moving your hips against him. Roger’s hands rubbed along your sides, tugging on your shirt and sliding it up with his hands. His fingers felt cold and rough against the smooth skin of your stomach and the two of you briefly pulled away for him to pull your shirt over your head and toss it to the floor. Thankfully, Roger’s shirt already had most of the buttons undone, so your fingers fumbled with the remaining three and slid them down his shoulders.

You pulled away for a moment and rested your hands on his chest feeling his heart hammering against your fingers. Roger’s lips were red and swollen and his eyes were glazed over and held a dark glint behind them, “Are…um… are we going to fuck?” You asked, bashfully averting your gaze.

Roger’s thumb caressed your cheek and then traced over your bottom lip while his other held the small of your back, “If you want to, we can.” He had a small, soft smile spread across his soft features.

You couldn’t stifle the surge of deviant energy that bubbled through you, “You did say you wanted to see me bouncing on your cock.” You walked your fingers up his chest as you spoke before you traced your finger along his collarbone causing him to shiver.

Roger hummed, the rumble of his chest lightly vibrating against your fingers, “True,” He pointed out, “But, I have a feeling, Harrison wasn’t a very skilled lover” His tone was playful and light, but his words sent a contrasting shiver down your spine.

Your fingers couldn’t help but trace the top of his jeans with light feathery touches. You smiled feeling his stomach twitch against your touch before you let out a small huff of laughter, “What gave that away?” You quipped.

Roger leaned down, trailing wet mouthy kissed along your jaw and neck, sucking and dragging his teeth along the sensitive parts, “Could tell just by seeing that starched white shirt and shoes.”  

“A starched white shirt told you all that?” You mumbled, leaning your head back against the wall and fumbling with the buttons on his pants.

You felt Roger swallowing thickly as you let out a breathy sigh and ground against his leg once again. Roger’s hands ran over your clothed breasts, his thumbs flicking over the hardness of your nipples before he kneaded them in his hands, “Bet he was one of those guys who could only get you off with his mouth.” He huffed out, “I’m not though, so good thing for you.” His confidence resurfacing once again.

You shifted and palmed him toughly through the tightness of his jeans and he hissed in response before he continued kissing down your neck and buried his face between the valley of your breasts, “Prove it then.” You tried to sound intimidating, but your words morphed into a breathy sigh.

You could feel Roger smirking against the skin of your breasts before he sank down to his knees, tugging on your pants and sliding them down your legs, “I’m going to make you come with my mouth and then after I’m going to take you to my room and make you come again from my cock.” His tone was matter of fact as he nuzzled his face against your cotton panties, inhaling the natural scent of your arousal.

You looked down between your legs at Roger and your hips bucked, feeling his fingers pushing your thighs apart, he kissed along the plush skin, sucking and lightly biting as he trailed his way back up to your core. He rubbed you through your panties and you swallowed thickly, closing your eyes and resting your head back. You felt your heart hammering against your chest with anticipation and Roger’s hands tugged your panties down your legs and helped you step out of them before lifting on of your legs over his shoulder.

Roger’s finger swiped between your folds and you sharply inhaled at the feeling; Christ, it’s been way too long since someone has touched you. “Jesus, [Y/N] you’re already soaked.” Roger grinned and used his thumb to rub harsh circles around your clit before inserting two long fingers into your core. He pumped them in and out at a deliberately slow pace while his thumb worked against your clit at an equally agonizing rhythm. His mouth continued to lick and kiss your thighs, each time getting dangerously to your core and then trailing back down. Your legs practically trembled as you laced your fingers in his hair, desperately searching for something to anchor yourself onto.

“Rog, please,” You whined, dragging your bottom lip through your teeth and lightly bucking your hips against his hand.

He didn’t respond but answered by moving his fingers ever so slightly fasts and hooking them against your tight walls, “You hear that,” Roger’s voice sounded rough and your lust foggy brain could barely make out the lewd squelching noises that came between your legs, “You’re so wet for me, love.” He practically panted his words out.

You clenched around his fingers; your mind going blank from his fingers scissoring against your velvety walls and let out a breathy sigh while lacing your fingers through his hair. It was soft, but still stiff from the product he put in and the recent bleaching, but you didn’t care. “Please,” You whined.

Roger looked up at you and smirked, “Please what, love?” He teased.

You eyebrows furrowed and you nearly sobbed in frustration, “Touch me more,” You said wiggling your hips in hopes for him to finally burry his face between your thighs. Roger grinned triumphantly, you could feel it against the soft skin of your thighs as he once again began to kiss and lick the skin at the sides.

With each kiss he inched closer and closer to your dripping core, still moving his fingers deliberately slow. When he finally reached your core you gasped, feeling his hot breath against your entrance. “Roger,” You let your head fall back against the wall, eyes deliriously looking up at the ceiling.

He finally buried his face between your legs and flatly laid his tongue against you, dragging it across. Your knees would have buckled if it weren’t for Roger holding you tightly by the outside of your thighs and pressing hard against you.

Your skin felt like it was on fire and your chest heaved as Roger’s tongue expertly explored every sweet inch your body had to offer. Your soft breathy moans echoed off the dark apartment walls. They provided to the ever-burning fire between you and Roger.

You roughly gripped a fist full of Roger’s hair and your back arched. His tongue flicked against your swollen clit. Harrison had never made you feel like this and he would have never though of taking you in the hallway. But you couldn’t focus on Harrison right now, your mind was only filled with thoughts of pleasure from Roger harshly sucking on your clit and pumping his fingers in and out of your wet hold.

“Fuck, Roger” You rolled your hips against his face and peaked down just in time to see his cheeks hollow as he sucked particularly hard, relishing the taste of your juices. Roger’s eyes locked with yours. They were dilated and uncharacteristically dark. Your forehead had little speckles of sweat that began to paste your hair to your skin and your mouth hung slightly ajar.

Your head rolled back, and your eyebrows scrunched together before groaning. Roger flatly licked at your cunt and you ground against his tongue, applying just the right amount of pressure. He gripped your hips tightly to still your movements. You lost yourself. Digging one hand into your hair while keeping the other’s in Roger’s, you clenched around his fingers and let out a loud sob.

His pulled his mouth away and began to move his fingers excruciatingly slow, curving and brushing against your walls as they pulsated around his fingers. He watched your chest heave and your legs began to shake as he prolonged and teased you through your climax.

Your head laid slack, tilted against your shoulder, and your eyes struggled to focus as they opened. Roger was still kneeling on the floor, looking up at you with a smug smile on his face “Should we move this to the bedroom then?” He asked, there was something about Roger’s confidence that made your skin feel hotter than it already did.

You nodded your head before you spoke, “Yeah,” Your voice was hoarse

Roger slowly stood up and laced his fingers with your own. They were still damp from your moisture, but you didn’t mind, “My room,” He said squeezing your hand in his own before pulling you to his room.

He shut the door out of habit. The two of you stood facing each other in silence, your eyes locked in a sexually charged stare off before you wrapped your arms around his hips, pulled him flush against you, locking his lips with yours once more for a needy kiss. His hands cupped your face and he began to push you back until your knees hit the back of his bed. You sat down facing, your eyes parallel with his belt buckle and boldly palmed the straining bulge in his jeans. Roger’s sharply inhaled and watched you as you tugged at his belt loop and opened it, tracing his erection.

Roger grunted and his hips lightly bucked against your hand before you finally reached up and unzipped his jeans, sliding them down his legs and watching them pool around his ankles. You kissed at his exposed chest and left little kitten licks near where the band of his briefs and his skin met. You liked feeling his stomach twitch against your mouth and hearing his shaky breaths.

Your mouth finally traveled over his briefs, licking and mouthing him through the cotton before you pulled them down and helped him out of them. You tightly gripped him in your hand, feeling the heat and weight as you gave him a few strokes and went in, licking him from base to tip.

A shiver ran through Roger’s body and he ran a hand through his hair “Fuck” He grunted feeling your wet tongue swirling around his head.

You wrapped your mouth around his cock, taking him in and bobbing your head, the whiney moan that left Roger’s mouth rang like bells in your ears and you hummed against him.

His hands buried themselves in your hair and tugged at your roots as he began to push your head down. He wanted to see how far you could go. To his surprise you made it far before you gagged, “Fuck, you look so good like this,” Roger mumbled and his mouth hung open when he felt himself probing and rubbing against the inside your cheek, “Oh, shit, we got to stop.” He sounded lightly panicked and pulled away from you.

You looked up at him, your face adorned with a coy smile. Roger gripped your hands in his. His grip was shaky, and his palms were sweaty. He pulled you up and his hand came up and rested itself on your cheek, lightly rubbing under your eye and he pulled you softly against his lips. His mouth moved against yours and his tongue traced your bottom lip.  You opened it and moaned feeling his tongue rubbing against yours and began to play with the short hairs at the back of Roger neck, “Bed?” Roger asked pulling away from you.

You swallowed thickly and nodded your head, crawling on the bed and laying against Roger’s plush pillows. Your level of nakedness suddenly flooded your brain. You felt self-conscious. Nervous even. Your hands came up and covered your expose chest while you pressed your leg’s together.

You looked at Roger, your face flushed. The camera you saw him on previously did not do him justice. His skin was stained with splotches of red and his lips were slightly swollen from kissing.

“You’re staring.” Roger smirked and straddled your body.

You spread your legs, allowing him to settle between them, “Sorry.” You mumbled feeling your face begin to heat up with embarrassment. Roger reached over to his nightstand and pulled out a bottle of lube and a condom, “Lube?” You questioned.

Roger looked at your curious gaze, “Lube makes everything better, trust me.” He said carefully tearing the foil package and preparing himself.

He looked up at you, “Ready?” He asked, a small smile playing on his lips.

You inhaled deeply and nodded your head, “Yeah,” You answered.

Roger’s slick fingers easily glided between your wet folds and he stuck his fingers into you briefly, lubing your entrance for good measure. Roger knelt between your legs and rubbed his painfully hard cock between your folds, teasing you, and hissing at the warmth. He pushed in, securely holding his bottom lip between his teeth. His eyebrows furrowed with concentration.

It was truly a sight to behold.

You stared at him your mouth hanging ever so slightly ajar, letting out a shaky breath as he stretched you.

Whatever thoughts you had about Harrison at this moment were now gone. Your mind quickly replaced them with fuzzy TV static and a feeling of bliss spread from your ears to the tips of your toes.

Roger let out a strained groan as he bottomed out into your wet cunt. He sat for a moment, allowing the two of you to gather yourselves. His stagnant body caused a knot of frustration to twist itself in your gut, “Fuck, Roger, please move.” You whined wiggling your hips.

He swallowed thickly and gripped your hips in his hands, pulling out until just the tip remained inside you and then thrusting back in forcefully. Roger’s eyes didn’t leave your body. Every snap of his hips had you twisting and contorting, tugging at the bedsheets, and filling the room with sinful sounds. It caused every nerve of his to stand on end.

“Ah,” You gasped, arching your back, “Fuck, Roger.” You practically purred his name before hooking your arms under his and pulling him forcefully against you. You sighed, feeling your bodies stick together, slick with sweat and frantically kissed along Roger’s jaw.

His scruff tickled against your mouth and cheek. Roger’s hips slapped against yours rhythmically and he buried your face into your shoulder. His soft breathy moans and whines filled your ears. They were sounds you wouldn’t soon forget. “Harder” Your whispered into his ear, dragging your tongue along the shell.

He shuttered and sat back up, pulling out for a brief moment and flipping you onto your stomach. You let out a surprised yelp when you felt him pull your hips up, so your ass was in the air. He quickly stuffed himself back inside you and pulled your hips against his, meeting his thrusts.

Roger’s hand slipped into your hair, holding your face sideways and pushing it into the mattress while his hands griped the soft skin of your thighs and hips impossibly hard.

Christ, was he trying to fuck you through his bed?

The way you bounced and jerked up Roger’s mattress was enough of an answer. Roger leaned over, pressing his back against you and moving his arm around your body to fondle your breasts. You sharply inhaled, feeling his calloused fingers pinching and twisting your nipples between his fingers. Your back arched into his touch and against his chest. “That feel good, baby?” He growled into your ear/

You looked up at him, your eyes hooded and heavy with lust. You brain couldn’t form words.

His hand harshly gripped your ass before winding up and smacking it, “I said, does it feel good?” He said thrusting and emphasizing his words.

The stinging on your hind end cleared the fog for a moment, “Fuck, yes.” You hissed, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as he angled his hips just perfect, hitting the spot inside you that made your toes curl.

Roger’s hand lifted your head up, forcing your back to arch as he continued to drill into you, hitting your spot several times. Your legs shook and you cried out. Your throat was sore. “Please, please, please.” You chanted in rhythm with his movements.

Roger let go of your head, and let it slump down to the mattress, “Please what?” He asked, kneading your ass in his hands. His hips staggered, he was beginning to lose rhythm.

“P-please, I…” you let out a harsh gasp when Roger’s pace slowed and his hand reached around, slowly grinding his fingers on your clit. The knot in your stomach was beginning to tighten “I… can I come, please?” Your words fell out like a prayer.

Roger smirked and began to pick up his pace once again, “Louder,” he ordered, his tone sending shivers down your spine.

“I wanna come so bad, p-please?” You sobbed out, feeling tears beginning to prick the edges of your eyes. Your stomach clenched and you squeezed your eyes shut.

Roger’s fingers messily moved back and forth on your clit, flicking the swollen nub, “I don’t know,” He purred into your ear, “It doesn’t sound like you want it bad enough.”

You could feel him grinning against your skin and your walls fluttered hesitantly around him, “Fucking Christ, Roger,” you practically yelled, “I want to come so fucking bad, please let me come.” You begged.

Roger cursed feeling your walls threatening to clench around him, “Fuck,” He cursed, digging his fingers into your hips, “Come on, baby, come for me.” He said thrusting into you and groaning as your walls pulsated around him, clenching his cock as he came.

The whine that left his lips as he slowly worked you through your climax was simply sinful.

You let your body go slack, muscles feeling tense and weak, as though you just had your very life force fucked out of you.

Roger laid on top of you, the weight of his body making you feel warm and secure as his arms surrounded you. You laid like that for a moment, listening to the sound of your breathing before Roger pulled out, tied the condom, and tossed it into the garbage can.

The side of the bed dipped as Roger climbed back onto it. You didn’t turn to look at him, you were simply too exhausted.

His hands came up, rubbing your shoulders and arms, soothing the ache that had begin to settle in them. “You good, love?” He asked, laying on his side and facing you. His fingers now traced aimlessly soft patterns on your back.

You let out a deep sigh, “Yeah,” You sounded drunk with left over pleasure as you turned and gave him a sleepy smile, “Great”

Roger couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh seeing your lazy smile. His hand brushed some of your damp hair from your face. The lull in silence wasn’t awkward, but it also wasn’t comfortable. You brain ran through a series of questions, unable to think of what to say or do next. You slid out of Roger’s bed and glanced on the floor, noting how your clothes became lost and mixed in his. That was a problem for later.

Roger sat up and looked at you with a confused expression, “Where are you going?” He quipped.

You stopped and turned towards your roommate, “I’m- uh- I’m going to clean up.” You said and pointed at your legs, “I’m covered in lube.” You tried to bite back a smile.

Roger watched you leave his bedroom and couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride seeing your legs wobble as you walked.

#roger taylor x reader #roger taylor smut #roger taylor fanfic #roger taylor series #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor fluff #ben hardy!roger x reader #ben hardy!roger taylor #ben hardy!roger taylor x reader #queen x reader #queen smut #queen fanfic #queen series #borhap #borhap fanfic #borhap fandom #borhap series #fsc fic #smut

[star-and-the-motherverse]

Chapter 6 - Off She Goes

The Butterfly Who Lost Her Wings

Word Count: 3476 | AO3 Mirror | Previous | Next

Summary: Marco tries not to think about summer. A familiar face realizes he’s out of the loop.

✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:* ☾ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

It didn’t really feel as if summer had ever arrived, to Marco, but it wasn’t like that was a trait unique to this particular one. When he was little, summer was the most exciting time of the year, but as he’d grown up, summer started to feel like it was getting shorter each time it came around. It had sort of lost its magic, in a strange way.

Not to say it was unwelcome—far from that, really. Summer break still probably was one of the better parts of the year. He got to spend a lot more time with his friends when they weren’t in school, and it was nice to take a couple months of break, not having to worry so much about the future.

But as days went by, he was starting to realize that he was… bored. By almost all of it. And it was strange, so strange. Really, this summer was equally as mundane as those that preceded it, and yet, here he was, feeling overwhelmingly alone.

You know exactly why that is.

Marco tried his best not to think about it—about her—as he went about his day-to-day life. But over half a year had passed since his everyday life had been upheaved. He’d practically forgotten what the bathroom countertop actually looked like when it was completely clear, or how small the guest room really was before it belonged to Star. They were little details that he was sure never would have stood out to him, not in the past. His painfully normal life had never stuck out to him like this until now, after everything that’s happened.

He missed the unpredictable nature of having Star as a housemate. The excitement, the danger, and everything else. He missed it so much.

Everything is still about Star.

He rolled over in bed, groaning, not able to find the motivation to get up just yet.

Some of his old friends hadn’t spoken to him in what felt like ages. Did he miss them too? He couldn’t tell. He thought that he did, but couldn’t even begin to think of how he might reach out. Jackie and—to a lesser extent—Janna were really the only friends from school that he regularly talked with anymore. He wasn’t exactly doing a good job of keeping in touch with anyone else.

Before he could think on it any longer, his phone vibrated. It took a surprising amount of effort for him to sit up and grab it off of bedside table. Reading over his lock screen, he saw that Jackie had texted him twice, the first message being from about an hour ago, and the other happening just now.

Jackie: Hey! How are u doing?

Jackie: Just realized you might still be asleep, sorry! xoxo

12:30 in the afternoon wasn’t a completely unreasonable time for a teenager to sleep in to, but Marco rarely ever stayed in bed for that long. He’d been up since noon at least—on a normal day, he’d be annoyed after wasting time, laying there and feeling sorry for himself.

Marco: Nah, I wasn’t. Sorry, missed your first text

Marco: It’s been a long morning 😅

Jackie: No worries :) Just checking in on u!

Jackie: Have u had lunch? Theres a food truck fair in town at the park, I think it would be fun to go!

Jackie: I bet theres a nacho truck somewhere, probably not as good as urs tho :)

He wasn’t really hungry at all, but he could certainly use the distraction. And he loved spending time with Jackie, more than anything. She always knew exactly what to say to make him feel better.

Marco: That sounds great. Did you want to meet there?

Jackie: Sure! Is 1:00 too soon?

Jackie: Also, hope u don’t mind but I invited Janna to come too!

Janna was one of the few people he’d managed to keep up regular conversation with, mostly over text. She didn’t give off the impression of a very social person, but then again, their unusual friendship probably didn’t make a lot of sense to outsiders, either.

Her reaction to the news of Star’s disappearance had been about in line with he was expecting, which wasn’t really saying much. Janna was an absolute wildcard, and he had a hard time figuring out what was going through her head even when things were normal. So her complete non-reaction, which might have caught other people off-guard, was just another Janna thing, in his mind.

She never liked talking about her emotions, and this would be no different. All he could really do was let her know that he was available to talk if she never needed to.

Marco: 1:00 is fine. And that’s cool with me

Marco: She’d probably find a way to invite herself if you didn’t.

Jackie: Lol ur probably right :P

Jackie: I’ll see you then💖

He let out a sigh and set the phone down on his bed, finally convincing himself to stand up. It wouldn’t take him that long to get ready to go out, mercifully. Such was the benefit of wearing a hoodie every day—even if the summer weather wasn’t exactly kind to him for it. He’d have plenty of time to get to the park and meet up with his friends, provided nothing weird happened.

Of course, as luck would have it, a lone laser puppy came wandering into the room, his tail wagging in excitement.

“Oh, hey… Sajak?” Star was the only one who could ever tell them apart, but he liked to believe he was getting better at it. “Yeah… Sajak.”

The puppy gave short little barks as he hopped around the room, coming to a stop in front of Marco and rearing up on his hind legs to demand his attention.

“‘Scuse me, buddy,” he said, carefully stepping over Sajak so that he could better reach his closet. “Sorry, but I’ve got things I gotta do today. No more lounging around.”

Sajak kept running circles around him and the room, occasionally pausing to stare at him expectantly. Marco tried to head out to the hall and towards the bathroom, but nearly tripped over the puppy as he rushed out in front of him before flopping down in front of the closed bathroom door.

“What in the world has gotten into you?” Marco asked, laughing, mostly to himself. He scooped up the dog with the intention of moving him. “You don’t feel like shooting me with a laser today? No?”

It was sort of a joke. He couldn’t quite remember last when the puppies had used their laser eyes. He wondered if it was related to whatever was going on with magic. It was a bit nicer to pretend that Sajak was just being particularly nice today, though.

Before he got the chance to move, a horde of laser puppies charged up the stairs, yapping excitedly. Barko Diaz brought up the rear, dragging in a multi-leash with him and nearly tripping over its cable several times as the lugged it up to the second floor.

“Seriously?” It was pretty cute at first, but now this was getting kind of ridiculous. “Guys, come on! I’m trying to do things!”

But he knew better than to tempt fate. These puppies were absolutely ruthless when it came to getting what they wanted. Truly, how could anyone say no to those adorable little faces?

He let out another low sigh. “Okay, okay, fine!” He’d had stranger mornings. If anything, he was getting exactly what he’d asked for with a distraction. His bad mood from the early morning was a distant memory by this point, which was a rather impressive turnaround.

He made his way slowly through what felt like a minefield of dogs, back to the side of his bed and picked up his phone once more.

Marco: I’m gonna be a little late, I have to take the dogs out on a walk first. They won’t leave me alone, haha

Jackie: Aww, so cute! That’s cause they love u so much ^^

Marco: Just doing my civic duty o7

Marco: See you in a bit ❤️

Jackie: 💖💖

“Settle down, Barko!” He cried out, once he’d turned his attention back to the excitable puppies. “I can’t put a leash on you if you won’t sit still!!”

✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:* ♥︎ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

“What the heck?”

The phrase wasn’t really intended to be a question. It was more like... some sort of out-loud expression of Star’s ever-growing confusion. She’d only been free falling for a few seconds or so, but as she blinked, she somehow found herself standing in front of Echo Creek Academy. She had no idea how or why. She didn’t even remember landing on the ground, which she was sure would have injured her under normal conditions.

“School? Again?!”

What even were the odds that she’d end up on the school’s doorsteps? Unless, for some reason, it was doing that thing where it was in every place she looked—

Oh no… it absolutely was. There was another school right in front of her. When she turned away, there was another school there, too. She turned again and again. Another one, each time.

“You’ve gotta be kidding..! Why?! Why here?!”

She was most definitely somewhere inside of the wand. She shouldn’t have been that surprised—it was one of the most likely options that she’d narrowed down, for cob’s sake—but there was still something deeply unsettling about how she’d found her way back to this place. Not long from now and she’d probably start bumping into past versions of herself, following in her current footsteps like some sort of video game. Only this time, she had no idea of how she was supposed to get out. Hopefully Glossaryck would know to come rescue her if things got bad.

At least those weird disembodied voices hadn’t managed to follow her here. Somewhere along the way she must have lost them.

“I’m not going in the stupid school,” she grumbled, having nothing but negative memories associated with its strange, magical realm counterpart. It’s supposed to be summer! I do what I want!

Instead, she took to the sidewalk, putting her hands in her dress pockets and wandering along, looking around for a glimpse of something, anything else.

There certainly wasn’t any shortage of weird things to look at in the wand. Everywhere she looked were pieces of Echo Creek and Mewni, awkwardly stitched together in ways that didn’t make much sense at all. Street lamps and sidewalks wove between wells and Mewnian carnival tents. Spanish-style houses were dotted between the fields of corn that stretched out into the horizon, from what she could see past the school. Cacti and coniferous trees were growing side by side, as if they were always supposed to be that way. But even with everything going on, the looming silhouette of Butterfly Castle towered over all other set pieces, only dwarfed in size by the mountainous terrain that made up the background of this strange place.

“Ack!” she cried out suddenly, stumbling a bit as the ground beneath her transitioned from sidewalk to an empty parking lot—save for a single chariot parked on the other side. Just ahead of her, a little puddle rested on the uneven pavement, made up of that same green sludge that Toffee had left her to drown in.

She was so overcome with anger and frustration at the sight of it that she kicked it out of impulse. Just before her boot made contact with the puddle, though, she swore she saw a glimmer of light hiding within it—but not nearly soon enough to stop. When her foot landed back on the ground, and the puddle stilled, nothing was there.

A bit shaken, her gaze wandered upwards. The star-shaped insignia in the dark purple sky looked the same as it had before, split in half and all. But as she watched it, she couldn’t help but think it looked a bit dimmer. It’s fine. You’re gonna be fine, she wanted to say, but she never spoke it aloud, not entirely sold on the idea herself.

Was it fine? Is that really why she wasn’t running into any timeline duplicates of herself? She was still alone, sure, and maybe that was a good thing. There wasn’t any immediate danger, or anything like that. So why am I worried?

She wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to quell her doubts.

Surely nothing had changed, right?

✧·ﾟ: *✧·ﾟ:* ☀ *:·ﾟ✧*:·ﾟ✧

Tom rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hand as he made his way out of his room and towards the dining hall, headed out in search of coffee. He never was much of a morning person, and that fact probably wouldn’t come as a surprise to many people. He was never thrilled about having to wake up early for meetings, or summons, or whatever else, but that was something that sort of came with the territory of being a prince.

He’d been trying to avoid Star ever since he’d failed his anger management final exam, following the suggestion from his life coach. It didn’t make sense to him at first—how was he supposed to know when she wanted to talk to him again?—but he’d ultimately come around to Brian’s advice, even if it was with reluctance. It was clear that she still wanted space. He needed to respect that.

It sure was frustrating, though. Patience wasn’t exactly his strong suit.

He was drawn out of his irritated thoughts when a messenger demon nearly crashed into him as he appeared around the corner. “Watch it!” Tom snapped, but the messenger didn’t acknowledge him as he continued in a hurry down the corridor. He couldn’t help but be a bit curious why this particular message was so important that it demanded such prompt attention.

Weirdly, the demon suddenly skidded to a halt, whirling around to come back down the hallway and stop in front of Tom, bowing. “Master Tom! Would you perhaps know where King Dave would be at this hour?”

“Uh… probably in his office?”

“Thank you, Master Tom!” Just as quickly as he’d returned, he was off again, headed back down the hall.

That was weird, Tom noted. He watched the messenger instinctively head towards the throne room, only to remember where he was supposed to be headed and travel down the adjacent hall instead. It wasn’t often that they received news worthy of any interest, so before Tom could convince himself otherwise, he was chasing after the messenger—too intrigued to stop himself from prying. It’s not like I have anything better to do, he remarked inwardly, somewhat dejected.

Light on his feet, he followed the smaller demon at a short distance so that he wouldn’t be noticed. They both quickly arrived at the king’s office, and the messenger disappeared through the towering doorway. Tom was able to catch the conversation before it had really started, listening through the door.

“—uncement from the Butterfly Kingdom, my lord! The Silver Bell Ball has been indefinitely postponed!”

What? If he was being completely honest, he’d sort of forgotten that it was almost time for the Silver Bell Ball again. He had some fond memories of the event from over the years, but he wasn’t really the dancing type. It was more boring than anything else, and it was quite funny how Star agreed with him wholeheartedly. But she always made the point of how it was nice to see everyone again, and he supposed that was one of its better aspects. It would feel weird to not go to it every year.

His father’s thought process mirrored his own. “What?” Dave exclaimed. “But the ball is a yearly tradition! Why would they do such a thing?”

Tom overheard the messenger clear his throat as he unraveled a scroll. “In the words of the Queen and King themselves: ‘it is with great reluctance that we inform you of our decision to cancel the Silver Bell Ball this year. We believe that this is the right thing to do, as the ongoing magical fritz is a pressing issue that requires our full attention. This is a difficult time for our kingdom, and we sincerely thank you for your patience and understanding.’”

“A magical fritz? What in the Underworld does that even mean?”

“The announcement does not clarify it, my lord.”

Tom heard the groan of table legs against the floor as Dave adjusted his chair. “I know that the Butterfly Kingdom is quite dependent on magic, but enough to cause this level of instability? This is preposterous!”

Admittedly, he didn’t have that much of an understanding of how magic worked, either. Most of the cities across Mewni had close ties to magic, but none of them were quite as clear cut as the Butterfly Kingdom. They had been an incredibly powerful force for centuries. If something weird was happening with magic, Star likely would have been one of the first to notice, since she was in possession of the magic wand.

“There could be something more serious at play here…” The messenger demon’s words trailed off.

“In what sense?” Dave asked.

“Well…” He lowered his voice, and it immediately became more difficult for Tom to pick up on their conversation, much to his frustration. He had to listen incredibly closely in order to make out what was being said, leaned up against the door. “There’s a rumor going around that something happened to the princess.”

Tom swore he could feel his blood run cold.

“What do you mean?” the king asked. “Is she sick?”

“Something like that. People can’t seem to agree on what’s happened to her.”

Dave paused for several moments, likely thinking over the implications of the messenger’s words. “You think that the Butterflies are lying?”

“Not necessarily. Perhaps it is an indirect lie, or a lie by omission. Whatever is going on, it appears the royal family are trying to hide it while they're so vulnerable.”

It had to be impossible. Star must’ve been fine. She was on Earth! Who did this messenger think he was, to present such a baseless claim as an actual reality? No, he’d prove him wrong. He could call her, right?

Of course! Why didn’t I think of that sooner?

Before he could even stop to remind himself that, no, Star still needed space, he shouldn’t bother her, she’ll come back to him when she’s ready to talk again—he was clicking through his contact list and tapping on her displayed nickname. Starship. He’d never brought himself to change it from that.

“Calling Star,” read the text-to-speech voice, before it was cut off by a screen tear and replaced with loud, crackling static and white noise. Startled, he snapped his compact shut immediately to silence it.

“What was that?”

“Huh? I didn’t hear anything…”

“Oh… hmm. Sorry. Perhaps it was nothing.”

He wasn’t listening to them anymore—no, he was panicking. Fear was getting to him, badly. He hated this, he hated feeling scared. This didn’t make any sense! Even if something had happened to her, the call should have gone through. It still should have let him leave a voicemail, or something! Not static and nothing else!

This was strange, this was wrong. Something was wrong, and he had no idea what it was.

“—h well,” he overheard Dave start to speak again. “I suppose it’s not—“

Unable to stand there any longer, Tom threw open the door and came storming in, glaring accusingly between them both. “That’s not good enough!”

“Thomas!” Dave scolded, standing up from his chair. “What have I told you about eavesdropping on my conversations?”

Ignoring him, Tom stared directly at the messenger, his eyes fiery with anger. “What did you say happened to Star?!”

The demon flinched, scrambling for words as he stepped backwards. “I-I’m sorry, Master Tom! I truly wish that I had more information, but I don’t. So long as the Butterfly kingdom keeps its borders closed, I’m not sure we’ll ever get an answer…”

“Then do your job!” He snarled, clenching his fists. “Go out there and find the answer, and don’t come back until you do!”

“Thomas, that’s enough!” Dave stepped between them both. “We don’t know what’s going on, and that’s how it’s going to be for right now. It’s ultimately not our business, to know what’s happening in the personal lives of other royals.”

“It is mine!” Tom hissed. “I care about her! I need to know that she’s okay!”

But no matter how much shouting he did during that confrontation—and it certainly was a lot—he never got an answer he was happy with. No amount of sulking around the castle was going to change that. He wasn’t going to find an answer here on Mewni, not anytime soon.

#star vs the forces of evil #svtfoe #marco diaz #jackie lynn thomas #star butterfly #tom lucitor #motherverse #tbwlhw #immersive

[canttelliotte-blog]

Incredibly long, overly detailed post I spent too much time on.

Tl:dr AITA for telling someone they were coming off as an ungrateful, privileged asshole who didn't seem to recognize or truly appreciate what they have? I blew up after a series of encounters, they seemed oblivious to their lifestyle and support and how truly different life could have turned out without it. I called them out after weeks of trying to be empathetic but couldn't take how helpless they were acting when I would kill for the kind the support they were complaining about and taking for granted.  

I should use a throwaway because I know this person will probably see this but I don't have the energy. I'll try to keep this short (actually super long sorry) I feel like I already know I was sort of harsh and out of line. This whole thing has just been sticking with me and I feel really messed up about it.  

Alright, so context, back story. I had a breakdown in February and tried to kill myself. By some miracle, I got a bed at one of the best mental hospitals on this side of the east coast. After a long history of chronic mental illness, being on disability for years with medicare, getting an opportunity like this was amazing. I had been on waiting lists for months before my attempt, but fate, acuity, and availability all lined up. A true miracle. Unless you have a family with money or amazing health insurance, getting a bed is just extremely difficult at this particular facility.  

The reason being, they provide real treatment. Comprehensive, attentive, life-saving treatment. They actually provide real care with empathy, actual therapy, psychiatry, and groups, with educated staff, real food to eat, world-renowned providers, and treatment teams that listen and work with you to come up with effective long-term solutions/aftercare plans that set you up for long term success.  

Out of pocket, this place is unfathomably expensive. The more exclusive programs on-campus are for the ultra-elite/ ultra-wealthy, taking celebrities like Selena Gomez. The institution itself is known for its education and research. It is not funded by the state like almost everywhere else. Most state-run facilities are atrocious. a disgusting holding cell, where you're stripped of your clothes, dignity, and rights, fed prison food, overmedicated, physically and chemically restrained, only to be thrown back on the street in 3-5 days with no aftercare, med refills, or plan. Been there, done that, many times, not the point. The point was, I got some really helpful expensive ass treatment by the luck of the draw.  

While I was there, I met someone lovely. We instantly connected and expressed interest in one another. They seemed really cool, we talked at length about income inequality and how unfair it was that this kind of treatment wasn't the norm or easily accessible and how unfair that was. They seemed passionate and bright and we got along great. They were set to discharge only a few days after I got there, so we exchanged info before they left. We talked a bunch while I was still there (my discharge was a couple of weeks later) and decided to go on a few dates after I got out.  

A few days after I got out, I unintendedly overdosed, confused about my meds, and was incoherent by the time I got to the ER. I was restrained and chemically sedated. I was confused and fought so was deemed severely acute, and got sent to a state-run facility similar to what I described above. It was all very traumatic and I shut down once I got home. I was lucky I made it out semi-okay, that they let me out at all.  

I wasn't replying to anyone's messages but the person I had met kept reaching out wanting to hear from me and make sure I was okay. I was embarrassed but it was really sweet and soon we starting talking a lot again and really connecting.  

As I got to know them, I definitely thought they were very cool, we seemed to have a lot in common, they made me laugh and we got along really well. I was really digging them and saw us potentially becoming a thing.  After talking for some time, we decided to anxiously have our first date. It went okay but something was off.  

I didn't really pick up on it at first but the more we talked, the more privileged they offhandedly revealed they were. I know it's judge-y and lame, but that kind of put me off. I've been poor my whole life and struggled hard for everything, it's a whole different world living in poverty, so it made me a bit uncomfortable.  I still live in poverty, on disability, with food stamps, and can barely hold it together enough to have a part-time job, but I have no choice. It's rough. I've been homeless, lived in institutions, went through foster care, and have no familial support. I have one of the most serious debilitating mental illnesses. It's been very very hard.  

I am biased but I haven't met anyone well off who gets it. Some people don't realize how hard things can be when you've really had nothing, and had to work hard for everything. Even simple things are taken for granted, not understood, or there are miscommunications or assumptions made due to the lack of understanding. That's just my personal experience, it's hard trying to explain things and it's invalidating sometimes, it can be hard to relate or connect due to the lack of understanding.  

Honestly, though, it took me by surprise. We had both talked passionately about the struggles of being on disability, the importance of income inequality, how unfair the system is set up, the barriers against the poor receiving adequate mental health treatment. They explained how they advocated for social justice and regularly went to protests. I felt dumb because I did meet them at higher-end facility, but I assumed they ended up there by dumb luck as I did with how they presented and initially came across.  

They made it seem like we were in the same boat, poor af, chronically mentally ill, and 4 ever struggling. It was just a surprise because that was very much was not the case.  

They moved up here from Florida, (where admittedly their life was much harder and different), but since moving, they were being supported by their aunt and uncle, who were very, very well off. They had a very expensive private practice psychiatrist, multiple treatment providers, and an apartment in a very well-off area, that their aunt owned, so they paid no rent.  Their car/insurance/phone everything was paid for.  

They seemed to have money to burn, dancing around being well taken care of and not really having to worry. They were on disability though receiving payments and food stamps in addition, not reporting the assistance from their family. When I lightly inquired, they said their grandmother mostly controlled their finances and they didn't deal with bills etc. They spent freely, getting take out almost every night, etc. enjoying all the pleasure of life without a second thought.  

I was uncomfortable with this like I said, but they did seem cool and understanding, we did get along and I wanted to give them a chance. I put my biased experience aside and tried to give it a go.  

First example that really blew me away was their dog. They had several animals, including a cat and two dogs. Even for someone working, three animals is a huge expense. I only have one cat and while she's my world, it gets hard sometimes. The vet is expensive, litter, food, treats, it adds up. And she's only one animal!!! I provide for her and take care of her, but a $350 vet bill still packs a punch. Of course, I pay it, she's my baby, but it might mean only eating sandwiches for a few weeks. I love her, so I sacrifice, she is worth it in every way, but animals are expensive and a lot of work/responsibility.  

When this person and I first started seriously talking, they mentioned the dog they were closest to was very sick with a rare condition. I don't know the full details, but I guess it took a while for the vet to figure out what was wrong, he was on a lot of medications, needed loads of tests and scans. There were weeks of extensive treatments/ blood transfusions, all in a long, painful, and strenuous attempt to save him. They tried for a long time in the hopes he would get better.  

He, unfortunately, passed away a few weeks after we started talking. It was devastating to them and I tried my best to be supportive and help them grieve. They were understandably at a huge loss. Their mental health tanked. Their dog meant the world to them, I understand that completely. Pets are family.    

A few weeks after he passed. They were talking a little about the course of treatment and how hard it had been and what a long, painful road it was. They kind of casually remarked that his treatment cost over $20,000.  

I honestly thought I had misheard. I had to ask twice because I thought they meant $2,000. No. $20,000. $20,000.Holy shit.    

I just...$20,000 is what I make in a year. A year. Dogs are family, I totally, totally get that. People will do anything to save their loved ones. A pet is like an uninsured child, even with pet insurance, it can be expensive. I get that. If you have that kind of money, you pay it, without a thought, no problem.  

I just... wow. I still couldn't even wrap my mind around it. My cat is my world but it breaks my heart to say, if anything happened to her like that, it would kill me, but I would be forced to put her down. I just couldn't believe, $20,000. And they said it like, no big deal, of course, like anyone would/could afford that, it was obvious, a no-brainer. I just...wow.  

Next, kicker. I  came over to hang out one night and watch movies. I had never been to their apartment before. They claimed it had been super messy and they made a big deal about how they had cleaned for me. Sweet, but unnecessary, I get mental illness is tough. It was two bedrooms, all to themselves, decent space and light, but definitely scattered and cluttered. They had a huge king-sized bed, a bidet in the bathroom, and a super nice living room set up. Big comfy couch, loads of nice blankets, and honestly the biggest tv I had ever seen. They joking bragged about having all the streaming options. No kidding. Hulu, Disney plus, Netflix, Amazon, HBO, Paramount, and at least half a dozen more I hadn't even heard of. It just seemed crazy and excessive paying for that many streaming services every month.  But to each their own I guess.

We were both huge fans of anime, and they sort of decided to venture to studio ghibli. They asked if I had seen a particular favorite of theirs. I hadn't. They searched and it was only available to rent. $17. I nearly had a heart attack. I was like no way, we could definitely find it streaming for free somewhere if we look, or watch something else, shortage of options. They were like no it's no biggie that's what I want to watch and clicked rent. Like no problem *sweats intensely* Anytime I spend money, I have a heart attack and second guess it, it takes me like 10 minutes to click buy and my heart always drops when I do. I overthink, whether I really need/deserve it/whether there's a cheaper option, or if it's truly necessary. I know that's a poverty thing. It's just like we could have easily found it somewhere for free with a little effort!  

We go to order food, we both have celiac so finding takeout is a chore. They knew the area better so I was trusting them. They were very adamant about ordering expensive sushi. It was $36 for just one of the things they wanted. Not including delivery or tips or fees or anything else, which included appetizers and drinks, the whole nine. I wasn't feeling sushi. They were like fine, we'll order from two separate places then. Double the delivery fee, not something I ever do, it would be cheaper finding a place together, I could get something small and affordable but they wouldn't budge. I didn't really have money to order a big thing on my own, I wanted something small, but I felt pressured. I figured anything I got would be cheaper than having to split a big sushi order I didn't want. I was like okay fine.  

They kind of seemed annoyed that I didn't just give in and get sushi. They were a little short with me, didn't give me many options of other places, and were weirdly controlling, not letting me look at their phone to find something. I kind of gave up and said like just a burger is fine. I figured it would be cheap and filling, probably $20 max. I didn't take into consideration that they live in an extremely expensive area. It ended up being almost $30, plus tip. For a burger. I almost wanted to cry. I would have picked somewhere else cheaper given the option. They didn't even tell me the price until after they ordered it. I was like oh how much like $15 and they were so casual like oh no, $30 with tip. When it arrived, it was cold and disgusting, really inedible. I picked at the fries, which gave me a stomach ache as they were not gluten-free friendly and had been cross-contaminated in the fryer. I assumed they picked a place that they knew was safe.  

When I wasn't eating, they asked if it was bad. I said yeah and they were like oh well just order something else. Like no, I can't afford anything else, it doesn't work like that. I was like no it's fine I'm not really that hungry. I wanted to say, I trusted you, and you kinda fucked me. I guess they picked that place because there was a gluten-free brownie sundae (prepackaged and not cross-contaminated) on the menu that they really wanted. Obviously more important.  

My stomach ached all night. They ate their food happily. No big deal to them, $30 wasted on food I didn't really want, that I couldn't end up eating and got me sick. If it were them, they would have just ordered something else. No big deal to them. It was more important they got their brownie sundae and expensive sushi than making sure I was able to get something edible. Didn't matter that was half my grocery money for the week. Bologna sandwiches it'll have to be then. Awesome.  

We spent the night talking, I didn't let on to how sick I was or that I was upset about not being able to choose food. They picked all the movies. I wanted to go home, but it just got later and later, one more movie I just *needed* to see. I asked them several times as the clock was ticking if it was getting too late to drive me home. No, no they were fine. Let's just watch another one. Then casually, they went to their room and brought out their night meds, threw 'em back, and settled into the couch. I started to panic. I asked again, you're taking me home, right? I guess they decided they weren't. I was miles away from home, no public transit running or close by. They were like oh I'm so tired, it got so late. Just order a car. I pulled up uber, $25. That would definitely overdraft my account.  

Thankfully, after they saw me sweating and looking panicked, they were like, oh, I feel so bad, I'll order the uber for you. (If they hadn’t, I would have had to explain like, getting home on my own wasn't the plan nor was staying the night. If they thought I would be cool with just staying, they should have said something, if they wanted me to stay, it should have been a discussion, not a surprise.)  

I just felt really disrespected. I was simultaneously hungry and sick from dinner, broke and unprepared to stay over with no prior discussion. I didn't have meds, my cat didn't have food out, I was blindsided and essentially stranded/put in an awkward position. They didn't consider that it might be stressful or beyond my limitations to get home. Being able to just roll with punches isn't financially feasible for everyone. It just felt like they were self-centered and inconsiderate. The whole night was what they wanted, what they wanted to eat, where they wanted to order from, what they wanted to watch, changing plans to what was convenient for them without any regard toward how it might impact me. Just inconsiderate and self-centered behavior.  

We did keep talking though, I just sort of chalked it up to miscommunication and sort of beat myself up for not speaking up. It was weird though, kept just casually mentioning shit that was so privileged and complaining about shit that made them sound so ungrateful. I don't think they realized how it came across, just completely oblivious to their access to resources and not appreciating their position or supports.  

They started talking about starting ketamine treatments to combat their ongoing depression. They had received them in the past and went on about how life-changing and helpful it was, and that everyone should try it. Now, being on disability (and even with most insurances) the treatments are not covered. The clinics that administer them are all out of pocket, bougie as fuck, and extremely expensive.  

They talked about having several rounds in the past like it was nothing. It's easily $250-400 a pop and they were going 1-2x a week for a long time. They kept talking about all their options like what a painstaking burden. Should they start with lozenges and work up to IV clinic or ask for patches, and start that way. They wanted to work up to twice a week again but their family was giving pushback. They wanted me to agree with them, saying it was so unfair and lame and unreasonable/closeminded of their family for not immediately agreeing. The same family that would be footing the bill.  No, not unfair or unreasonable at all. You sound privileged as fuck.  

I was super bothered they were endlessly going on about it and complaining about pushback and asking me to agree with them. My treatment-resistant depression hasn't responded to anything, I've been on every waiting list for MDMA-assisted treatment whenever they pop up but never been selected due to demand and availability. Even ECT is too expensive and not covered. I'd kill for an opportunity like that! And it wasn't even like their family was saying no, they were discussing it in family therapy and seriously considering it.  

They talked about it so nonchalantly and kept going on and on about how amazing it was. Like great, tell me all about something else I'll never be able to afford. I'm sure Paris is great, and backpacking across Europe is awesome, like please do tell me more.  

I finally mentioned like okay that sounds great, will never able to afford it, glad it's so helpful They told me that I could just buy it off the street. That's what they used to do occasionally. It's only a couple hundred dollars and you get way more. Like oh okay. Let me just not pay a third of my rent in the hopes that this jam band kids ketamine isn't fentanyl or some shit and maybe have a shot at not wanting to kill myself for a week, you know on the off chance it works. Sounds great, super safe, much more affordable. And like as ridiculous as it was to offer that as an alternative, that still wouldn't be something I could afford! They just came off so clueless and privileged and oblivious.

What really got me was how they eventually talked about their family. They did weekly family therapy with their aunt and uncle and occasionally their dad since moving up here. They stayed with their aunt and uncle (lived down the street) more often than not so they weren't alone. This was encouraged/appreciated/welcomed. They did activities together regularly to help with depression and loneliness/ managing symptoms. They had their grandma and brother, whom they saw often and cherished greatly. They portrayed the relationships as really solid and important. I thought wow, truly wholesome and wonderful.  They seemed so loved, close, connected, cared for, and supported. Across the board, they had support.  

But then tables would turn. They complained often their family was too close, too conservative, and not understanding. They didn't want them so involved in their life, their treatment, decision-making, and recovery process. They resented the support, complained they weren't a kid and were capable/in sound mind to make decisions/have control of their life. I tried to listen and be understanding but I didn't get it. They came off almost like a spoiled, ungrateful teenager.  

You're getting help, love, and support all around, everyone wants to support you and see you do well and will give whatever that takes. Like legitimately whatever ?!?  You don't have to work, pay for anything, and it is made sure you don't have to struggle for anything. Anything you need, you've got.  

I get the concept that having family so close/involved could be crippling or invasive or just downright unproductive. But it was such a slap in the face they would complain to me of all people about having that kind of support.  

Family/support is such a foreign concept to me personally. Like I said, I grew up in foster care. I've never had family involved, healthy relationships, or any sort of support like that. The concept of calling your aunt when you're sad and she offers kind words, support, and tells you to come over to do something fun? Like, can't relate. I could only take so much of them complaining about being taken care of.  

Living with extreme mental illness, not being able to work for periods of time, living solely on disability paychecks and food stamps is damn is impossible to survive, especially where we live. Without the help they were being given, they wouldn't be able to survive. The cost of living is out of control, you can't even rent a room with a single disability payment. I know, I'm doing it. It takes everything for me to keep a part-time job, barely making enough to make ends meet. But if I don't. I'm homeless again. No matter what, no matter how bad symptoms get. And I have one of the hardest, most debilitating mental illnesses. I don't have any other choice.  

Their aunt would pay for them to go to school or learn a trade or anything they wanted. They have a world-renowned private practice doctor that prescribes them literally anything they could want or need to help and they have a great bond/ working relationship. I have a psych who can barely remember my name and sees me for 5-15 minutes maybe once or twice a month. I was asking for medications recently to get through a hard time, nothing serious, but my state-assigned psych does not prescribe benzos. Period. Neither does my PCP. It's state rehab or psych facility for me or bust. Another thing they take for granted. They almost bragged to me about immediately getting two heavy-duty benzos and another maintenance medication,  just by saying their panic attacks were slighting increasing. Meanwhile. I was at risk for DT's after relapsing and begging for basic Librium to maybe not die and was denied.  

The real reality of being on disability is the bare minimum or bad treatment. My psychologist is thankfully amazing but it took 10 years and hitting absolute rock bottom and being homeless to find her. She's a diamond in the rough but only works with the sickest of the sick. I would be in a state institution right now if it weren't for her and I avoided it by the skin of my teeth.  

So here's where I'm probably the asshole. After weeks, I broke. We were texting as usual and they started to sort of mope and complain. They were venting about having a hard time again and how symptoms were bad and there was just nothing they could do and it was so hard. They started going on about how helpless they were and how there was no opportunity to get better and everything was just super hard and impossible for them and how rough they had it. Their family was checking in on them too much and they were annoyed at them for being concerned and that they had no options and no chance and everything was just so hard and impossible.  

I understand, that's depression. I'm pretty empathetic and understanding and have been up to this point but it just felt like the rich person complaining to the homeless guy sleeping on the street, how awful it was they forgot their umbrella that day, and how unfortunate it was to be getting wet. I just wanted to scream. If you're anxious take your benzos, take your other meds! Call your aunt. Text your on call therapist. Call your fancy psych who answers night and day. Utilize any of the resources you have and all the support you are given!    

I was just tired of it. Things in my life have been super difficult, especially lately, and I have to figure it out alone. The voices were getting loud again which lead to a bad relapse that went off the rails, which I had to pull out of completely unassisted. I am in between jobs, my housing isn't stable, my bank accounts are low, my mental health is chronic and very severe, my treatment team was threatening to section me if I didn't reel it in. Things were bad. But I deal with it, alone.    

I know it was wrong of me, but I couldn't take it. They have everything to help themselves!!! They could go to a fancy hospital, they could ask all their supports for help! They would receive the best care. All the medicines, the best treatment. Anything.  

I basically kind of spelled it out for them. You have privilege, you have support, you have money, resources, a great treatment team, family, everything... please for the love of God, USE IT! You wouldn't have to worry about losing your job going into treatment, you wouldn't lose your housing. You wouldn't have to worry about falling behind on bills. You'd be fine.  

How can you not see or appreciate all you have and or see how oblivious and privileged you come across and how hurtful that is? You're complaining to the wrong person.

I went on a bit too long. I was definitely coming from a place of hurt, mental illness, and jealousy. I wasn't trying to make them feel bad, I just wanted them to understand. That kind of support would make all the difference for so many that are struggling. They are sitting with gallons of water around them, complaining to be inconsolably parched and that don't know what to do, all while sort of offhandedly bragging about how much water they have and how they can easily get more. I've been carefully conserving a 16 oz Poland spring bottle, rationing for weeks not knowing if/when I will be able to refill. They aren't alone, expected to make it on just disability. They weren't recognizing their position, how they were coming across, how hurtful that was. I didn't get anyone to catch me, love me, support me. This is the real reality of living with extreme mental illness on disability looks like without that opportunity or support. This is hard fucking work. We are not the same. You got lucky. Now do something with it.

They ended up calling me a dick, saying I didn't understand, that I was being cruel and mean for no reason. We haven't talked since. I do feel bad, I just couldn't take it anymore.  

So if you made it this far, lay it on me, AITA?      

[lilacmoon83]

Finding You Always

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 237: Information Warfare

"Good evening and welcome to the latest edition of Fabled. Your premier podcast for all the dirt and the real truth behind the fairy tale," Goldie began.

"As you know, here on the Fabled podcast, we take you beyond the writings of Henry Nolan Charming and bring you face to face with the real people in the book and how they're not always what they seem," she said.

"And even when they are...we discuss what we all know is there. A dark side," she continued.

"Tonight though, we're doing a little backstory," Grimm said.

"That's right...we're taking you back to the beginning of everything. We've told you it all. We rarely discuss what happened back in the Enchanted Forest or other realms where most of our people come from, but there is a purpose for that," she said.

"She's right...we like to discuss what came after true love's kiss and the curse that brought them all to this world. A dark curse," Grimm said.

"The same dark curse that deposited Prince Charming and his infant daughter on a rural road in Maine in 1983," Goldie replied.

"When found, Charming had clothing typical of this land and even identification on him. David Nolan of Storybrooke, Maine. A town that no one could find on a map and in the crook of his arm, a baby wrapped in a white blanket with the name Emma embroidered on it," Grimm said.

"They were taken to a hospital; a hospital that David Nolan remained in for ten years in a coma, while little Emma went off to a group home," Goldie said.

"Now, you might be wondering why we're discussing this, because most of this is described in the book, but what isn't in the book was Emma's troubled childhood," Goldie added.

"Right...Emma was adopted by a couple by the name of Nathan and Linda Swan and they sent her back when she was only three-years-old," Grimm said.

"The Swans are dead, but we have obtained Emma Swan's file from child services and it's quite interesting," Goldie said.

"Apparently, little Emma was a handful. There are tons of reports in this file that said that Emma would throw tantrums and during them, lights would flicker, sometimes lightbulbs would even explode, and electronics would even turn themselves on around her," Grimm replied.

"Naturally, most of the social workers she had listed had great difficulty in getting her adopted. One even called her a little demon and I guess we all know why that is," Goldie said.

"Right and in her file, her unruly behavior was naturally listed as the reason she was always sent back," Grimm replied.

"Of course, most fawn over the Charmings when they learn these things, but don't you think it was a clear sign that something was seriously off about her. I mean, we've even learned that her own paternal grandfather visited his son in the hospital a few times, but made no effort to take custody of little Emma," Goldie said.

"Maybe he knew what she was...and how much trouble she'd be to this world," Grimm replied.

"And she has. The Charmings have caused as much harm as they have good; that good is only done after they cause the destruction of a city," Goldie said.

"And who is there leading them all?" Grimm asked.

"Emma Swan...AKA Emma Nolan Charming-Jones," Goldie replied.

"Everyone thinks they're heroes...but we know they're capable of going dark. Her parents have...what's stopping Emma from going bad?" Goldie asked.

"I think we all know the answer to that. As long as she keeps her happy ending...she stays good, but the Savior could easily become our destroyer," Grimm replied.

"Exactly...and when we come back from our short break, we'll discuss the one Charming that can shake the entire world apart if he wants to," Goldie said, as they streamed their ads and shared a smirk. If they kept this up, Mama Snow and Daddy Charming would be beating down their door to defend their precious children.

~*~

The fireplace crackled in their living room, as Snow and David cuddled together on the sofa with two almost empty wine glasses on the coffee table. Shortly after the demise of Jekyll, they had decided they missed the coziness of their family home and decided to remodel the living quarters of the castle. Now the entire east wing consisted of their spacious bed chambers, a family room where they could gather with their kids, a private kitchen, Summer and Bobby's bedrooms, several guest bedrooms and bathrooms, and even a large outdoor veranda for family gatherings when it was warm. The staff did the chores and cleaning during the day, but it was mostly off limits to anyone but family in the evenings and mornings. Summer and Bobby especially loved the return to the coziness of their family home, yet the best of both worlds of castle life as well.

They still loved cooking for the kids too when they had time and this eliminated any friction with the staff when they wanted to use the main kitchen like before. It was definitely clear that most of the staff was not used to having royals willing to do for themselves like the Charmings. But on this evening, with Summer out and Bobby spending the night with Gideon, they were alone and left to their own devices.

He kissed her deeply and slid his hands underneath her blouse, as she mewled into his kiss. His hands on her made her gasp in excitement and she bit her bottom lip to keep a moan back, as he kissed his way down her neck. Her hands went for his belt and that was the moment his phone chose to beep. He grunted and chose to ignore the offending device in favor of kissing his way down to her collarbone. But then it beeped again. She whimpered in annoyance, as he reached for it.

"No...you have deputies for this kind of thing," she pouted. He chuckled and pecked her on the lips. He sighed, as he looked at it.

"It's Leroy," he said, as he sat up. She huffed.

"He says I need to come in and see something. Apparently, it's important," David replied.

"It's Leroy...I doubt what he says is important is that important," she argued, as she climbed into his lap and straddled his waist. He chuckled.

"You are Supreme Sheriff of the United Realms," she reminded him, as she started unbuttoning his shirt.

"That means you have deputies to handle most of the day to day operations and you can oversee. I highly doubt this requires your attention now," she reasoned.

"You're probably right," he agreed, as she kissed him deeply and he dropped his phone to the sofa. Unfortunately, it beeped again.

"Ugh...he really has a death wish tonight," Snow complained, as she prepared to toss it away, but he caught her arm and took the phone from her. He read the message and sighed again.

"He's not going to stop unless I go see what is so urgent," he said.

"He will if I tell him I'll shoot him with an arrow," she replied, with a pout. He chuckled again and kissed her pouty lips.

"Maybe...but knowing Leroy, he'll just come here instead," he said. She frowned at that and knew he was right. Leroy had always had boundary issues and was rarely appeased.

"Fine…" she relented, as she climbed off him.

"You want to come?" he asked.

"I want to come...but not in that way," she replied in a salty tone, making him laugh again.

"And I promise to help you with that in earnest when I get back," he said. She smirked.

"Okay...you better hurry back and make good on that, handsome," she replied, as she got up and kissed him passionately.

"Meanwhile, you can think about me being all alone, naked in the hot tub," she said, as she started to saunter toward their bed chambers. He blew out a breath.

"This really better be freaking good, Leroy," he grumbled, as he grabbed his sword and sheathed it on his belt, before heading out.

~*~

"Can you believe her!?" Eva cried, as she and Paul grabbed a bite at Granny's that evening after a long day at the hospital.

"Honey...you can't let her get you so worked up. You know she does it on purpose. She's constantly on your parents. It was only a matter of time before she went after the rest of you," Paul reasoned.

"I don't know...I'm with her. That lady needs turned off, permanently," Frankie agreed, as he held his and Joe's daughter.

"Easy Frankie...Paul has a point. She's just aching to get your parents to go after them and it wasn't working when she was saying stuff about them. So she's naturally going after you kids now," Joe reasoned.

"He's right," Paul agreed.

"Yeah...and Emma is an adult. That will piss them off...but they go after Bobby and your Mom is gonna put an arrow in her," Frankie said.

"I should text Emma and then Mom and Dad in the morning," Eva said.

"Or not...I mean, your parents don't even waste their time listening to Goldie's crap podcast. Neither does Emma or Bobby for that matter," Paul replied.

"I get that...but they're stoking fear about us. It's wrong...at this rate, we'll never be able to safely leave the United Realms again," Eva said.

"Maybe that's for the best," Paul replied, as he took her hand across the table.

"He might be right, honey. We lived in that world a long time. They're not kind to heroes. They build them up so they can tear them down," Frankie said.

"He's right...the propaganda is too shiny for the normies. The truth always comes out...but it takes longer and by then, the damage is done most of the time," Joe agreed. She sighed.

"I know you're right...maybe we are better off not going out there," she said. He nodded.

"Come on...let's head home. We can work on a counter for all of it. More people listen to you anyway," Paul said, as he paid the check and they said goodnight to Joe, Frankie, and their little one, before heading home for the evening.

~*~

David walked into the station in Storybrooke that evening, finding that it was mostly quiet, with what looked like routine bookings and happenings. Which begged the question as to why he was there. He headed toward the front desk, where they usually had a desk sergeant stationed during the day. At night though, it was usually just a clerk that went to the academy, but didn't quite have the makings for a beat cop. Now that they were policing the entire United Realms, they had an actual police force, both day and night shift. The station headquarters was in Storybrooke of course, complete with a much bigger, newer station with modern technology, a larger bullpen, and eight holding cells. Emma headed and managed the station headquarters and the day to day operations, while he oversaw the entire police force and the armies of Knights from all realms from their castle in Misthaven. Knights that served in various armies were considered a step higher than the Storybrooke police force, though the day of chainmail was mostly gone, with the exception of a few Kingdoms that still insisted on the old type guard. But the modern forces were akin to higher law enforcement and intelligence agencies like one might find in the Land Without Magic. He frequented the station in Storybrooke during the day, but it had been a very long time since he had visited it in the evening and probably not since it had been the old station. He knew the day desk sergeant by name, but didn't recognize the night clerk at all. He approached and then spotted Leroy coming out of one of the interrogation rooms. He almost made it past the desk when the clerk happened to look up from whatever non-work items he was doing and his eyes widened.

"Oh my Gods...it's you…" he uttered, as the middle aged man stared. David sighed.

"Yeah…just here to see Leroy," David said, hoping not to attract too much attention. He usually liked to keep a low profile, but it was increasingly harder to do these days, even in Storybrooke.

"I'm...I'm just such a huge fan. I mean...you're a legend!" the man stammered.

"It's about time you got here," Leroy grumbled, as he noticed the desk clerk that was hoping to get David's attention.

"Get back to work, Drake. Those phones and emails don't answer themselves," Leroy snapped.

"The phone isn't ringing at all," Drake said, but Leroy gave him a look and he wisely shut his trap.

"As I was saying...it's about time you got here," he grumbled.

"Really? Because whatever it is seems like it could have waited until morning. This place is dead," David argued.

"Not as dead as you'd think, chisel chin," he replied.

"Get back to work, Drake and stop working on those dumb picture books," Leroy snapped, as he led David back to the interrogation room, only to see a teen in the room about Bobby's age. David looked at him.

"He's a kid…" David said.

"Boy you're quick," Leroy retorted. David sighed.

"I mean, he's a kid and we have social workers for this stuff," he said.

"This one skips out of the system every chance he gets and is a notorious thief," Leroy replied, as he handed him the file.

"Eugene Fitzherbert...okay, yeah that's quite a list of theft for sixteen, but if you're wanting to book him as an adult, I think that's a bit harsh. Most of this stuff is petty. He needs a program, not prison," David argued.

"He needs a smack in the head, but I didn't bring you here because I think we need to try him as an adult," Leroy replied.

"Okay...then why did you?" David asked.

"He thinks he spotted Runeard at Iago's...earlier tonight," Leroy replied. David looked at the teen and then back at Leroy.

"Okay...you've definitely got my attention now. He's sure?" David asked. Leroy nodded.

"I showed him the photo of that portrait we took from Elsa's castle. He says he's sure and that's not all. He was pretty shaken up by what he heard and to get under the skin of a street rat like this one...I knew it had to be bad," Leroy said. David nodded and went into the room.

"Eugene…" David said, as he put his file on the table and took a seat across from him. The boy looked at him in surprise, like he was the last one he expected to see.

"Everything okay?" David asked.

"Uh yeah...just didn't expect him to go all the way to the top when I told him what I saw and heard," the boy replied.

"If you really did see Runeard...then Leroy was always going to call me," David replied. The teen looked uncomfortable at that and David relaxed in his chair a bit.

"Look Eugene…" he started.

"I hate that name...I don't go by that name," he said in irritation. David smirked.

"Like my son. He refuses to ever go by the name Robert and we've always called him Bobby. So what do you go by?" David asked. Eugene looked at him with scrutiny. No one ever cared or bothered to listen when he said he didn't like Eugene, let alone asked him what he liked to be called.

"Flynn...Flynn Rider," he replied.

"Okay...Flynn is it then," David said.

"Leroy says you saw Runeard at Iago's tonight," he said.

"Yeah...it was him, I'm sure of it. Nothing scares Iago anymore...and that guy had him ready to wet himself," Flynn replied.

"Then you heard the conversation?" David asked. He nodded.

"Iago was talking smack like he usually does and then the man grabbed his hand. It was only for a second, but Iago started turning gray. I...I've never seen anything like it," Flynn confessed.

"Yeah...he's really dangerous. I'll level with you...probably more dangerous than Jekyll was in certain ways," David said. Flynn looked at him for a moment again. No adult had ever leveled with him or told him the full truth before. It was a scary truth, but he liked it.

"What happened after that?" David asked.

"Iago told him to get out and didn't charge him for the drink, which is saying something. Iago never gives anything for free," Flynn replied.

"Did he leave?" David asked.

"Yeah...but not right away. Someone at one of the tables stopped him on the way out," Flynn replied.

"Do you know who it was?" David asked. He nodded.

"His name is Rourke...he's kind of a mercenary I think. He's really shady...no one seems to know much about him," Flynn replied.

"Oh, I know the name...and you're right, he's a mercenary, but really elusive. He used to freelance for Clayton back in Longbourne. My father told me a bit about him," David said.

"He also managed to evade capture when we took down Pleasure Island...and I still don't know how he keeps off the grid like he does," he added.

"Yeah...I couldn't hear the conversation and getting closer would have been suicide, but he gave Runeard a business card," Flynn said.

"That's interesting...and really helpful," David replied.

"Are you going to book me?" Flynn asked.

"Why did you come here if you knew we might arrest you for something?" David countered with his own question. Flynn shrugged.

"I don't know...I hate cops and stuff, but this Runeard guy seems really bad. I mean, I hate the system...but I still want a world to live in, you know?" he asked. David nodded.

"We all do...and we're not going to book you tonight," David replied. Flynn's eyes widened.

"Really?" he asked.

"No...but do you have a place to stay tonight and don't say in a car or on the street," David replied.

"I'll...I'll figure it out. I always do," he replied.

"Yeah...that's what I thought. Come on," David said.

"Come where?" Flynn asked.

"You can stay with us until we get you enrolled in school and on your feet," David replied.

"I...I can't stay in a castle," Flynn said.

"It's no big deal. We have plenty of room, as you can imagine, and our youngest is about your age. He has an empty spare room right next to his," David replied, but he could see how uncomfortable the teen was.

"But if you'd rather, just go to Granny's and tell her I sent you. She'll get you settled," David said. He nodded, a little more comfortable with that.

"And make sure you go, because I will check and I will be making sure you're headed to school tomorrow when I send my son to take you there," David said.

"I don't need school…" Flynn argued. David smirked.

"It's school or juvie," he said. Flynn scoffed.

"Fine…" he relented. He'd figure out a way to get out of it later. David stood up and opened the door, letting him out, as Leroy waited.

"Make sure he gets to Granny's and get him checked in," David said, as he started to walk back toward the desk.

"You aren't booking him?" Leroy asked.

"No...he's just a kid, Leroy," David replied.

"You're such a softie," Leroy complained, but he wasn't too upset by that, as they got to the desk and he finished scribbling notes on the report.

"Here's the report. Stop working on your comic and get this typed up," Leroy ordered.

"Of course," the desk clerk said, as he looked at David.

"I...I just want to say that you're an inspiration. Your family...and the crime fighting. It's my basis for my own comic book," he said.

"That's...great," David replied, a bit awkwardly.

"Not if your comic is about duck people that are super heroes," Leroy muttered.

"Well, good luck. I need to get home," David said.

"Wait…" Drake called and David winced, as he stopped and turned around.

"I know it's a lot to ask...but your grandson is the author and I'd love it if he would read my stuff and give some feedback," Drake replied.

"Ahh...well, Henry's not really that hard to get a hold of. Shoot him an email," David suggested.

"I sort of sent him a few...dozen," Drake muttered.

"Okay...well, I really need to go," David said, as he started to head for the door.

"Dammit Mallard...I told you to limit working on that crap here at work and then you go weird Charming out with your hero worship?" Leroy scolded.

"Sorry…" he apologized, as he sighed and looked at his comic, before going back to work on it.

"Come on kid, I gotta take you to Granny's. Charming's orders," he said, as he ushered Flynn out to the car.

~*~

"Okay boys...I got the stuff for your s'mores," Belle said, as she exited the house and into the backyard where Gideon and Bobby were having a campfire in the fire pit. Rumple sat with them, as did Neal and Tink, who had come for dinner as well.

"Thanks Mom," Gideon said, as he helped her with the stuff.

"So Bobby...your Mom texted me that you have a date to winter formal on Saturday night," Belle mentioned.

"Uh yeah...I asked Zia," Bobby said shyly.

"Way to go, man," Neal said, as he fist bumped him.

"Yeah…Mom already bought new albums for the pictures," he said, with a flush of embarrassment.

"I think it's sweet...and it would be even sweeter if my Gideon wasn't refusing to go," Belle mentioned.

"Mom...not this again," Gideon complained, making Rumple smirk slightly.

"I just don't want you to miss out, sweetie. You can go without a date," Belle urged.

"Well...you know, he could ask Olivia. She hasn't been asked yet and I know she likes you," Bobby suggested. Gideon's eyes widened.

"Dude…" he hissed.

"Oh that sounds wonderful...Olivia is so sweet. You should ask her," Belle urged.

"Yeah and then we can take pictures together," Bobby snickered.

"I hate you," Gideon grumbled.

"Don't be so shy, baby bro. Ask her out," Neal urged. Gideon rolled his eyes.

"Fine…I'll ask her," he relented.

"Good...now on with the making of s'mores," Neal said, as they got the stuff out and started roasting some marshmallows.

~*~

David got home and upstairs to their living quarters. He removed his jacket and shoes, before padding into their bedroom and into the bathroom, finding his wife in the hot tub, as promised.

"Good...you're back and I'm almost out of wine," she purred, as she undressed him with her eyes. He smirked and grabbed the bottle on the sink and filled her glass and one that was waiting for him, before leaning down and kissing her.

"Get in here," she requested. He smiled and undressed, much to her liking, and slipped into the water with her.

"I missed you," she purred, as he kissed her again.

"I missed you," he replied, in a husky tone. She was going to ask him why he was called in, but she forgot all about anything else when he started kissing her neck.

"Charming…" she mewled, as he proceeded to make love to her. After, they rested together in the bubbling water, exchanging soft kisses, before she rested her head on his shoulder.

"So...what did Leroy need?" she asked, as he entwined their fingers together and kissed the back of her hand.

"Someone said they saw Runeard at Iago's earlier...and actually came in to report it," he answered. She looked up at him.

"Really?" she asked. He nodded.

"A young man, about Bobby's age. I suspect he's either an orphan or had a troubled home life. He has a rap sheet, but it's mostly petty and we've never been able to get him to tell us which land he's from," he replied.

"He wasn't included in the system from the Good Curse?" she asked. He shook his head.

"No...he skipped under the radar somehow. But what he saw scared him enough to report it," he replied.

"What did he see?" Snow asked.

"Iago mouthed off to him...you know, like Iago does and Runeard gave him a tiny taste of what he was capable of. Iago begged him to leave and he did, but not before someone else stopped him on the way out," David replied.

"Who?" Snow asked.

"A man named Rourke...who we also don't know a lot about, other than he's a mercenary. My dad said he freelanced for Clayton a few times though back in the Enchanted Forest. He usually operated out of Longbourne," David explained.

"What did a mercenary want with Runeard?" Snow asked. He shook his head.

"Not sure...the kid didn't get close enough to hear, but Rourke handed him a business card," David replied.

"What about the boy? Don't tell me he's sleeping on the streets or in one of those skeevy motels that Iago owns on the east side," she said.

"No…I offered to let him stay here, but I don't think he was comfortable with that. I think he's still trying to figure me out," he replied. She smiled.

"So I had Leroy take him to Granny's and I made sure he knows that he's going to school tomorrow. He didn't like that, but I told him it's school or juvie," he added. She kissed his cheek.

"You're such a good man...I love you so much," she replied.

"I love you too...and I'm the man I am, because of you," he said.

"You were a good man, even before me," she reminded him.

"Maybe...but you gave me everything I knew I wanted in life and more," he said.

"There was a time that I wasn't willing to take risks and fight for anything, even my own freedom. Then when I did...I guess I never stopped fighting so when I met you, I knew that I'd do anything for you and fight for you to my dying breath. And then our children," he said, making her want to melt.

"I know...you're my hero. You have been since we met," she replied, as she kissed him tenderly.

"But I have to say...I'm very much enjoying these peaceful days when we're not all in mortal danger," she added. He chuckled.

"Me too...come on, let's go dry off and get a snack. I could go for some ice cream," he mentioned.

"Oooh...me too," she agreed, as they got out and dried off, before putting their robes on and then padding out to the kitchen.

~*~

Hermes' bubble disappeared, as they touched down in New Asgard, where Sif was waiting for them. She hugged them both with excitement and then the children.

"We missed you Aunty Sif," Ben said.

"Oh, well I missed you too, young ones," Sif replied, as she led them toward the marketplace.

"Well...things are certainly looking good around here," Fandral mentioned.

"Yes...it helps that there are more hands to spread the work to now," Sif replied.

"What do you mean?" Rose asked, as they noticed there was also a lot of construction going on.

"They reversed the snap...most everyone that died five years ago has returned," she said.

"That's wonderful...but how is that possible?" Fandral asked.

"That is a long story, but we have breakfast ready at the royal house and Thor is waiting," Sif replied.

"Then Thor is taking his Throne seriously now?" Rose asked.

"No...he has put Valkyrie in charge and she is hard at work cleaning things up around here," Sif replied.

"Then it's true...Thor is leaving," Fandral said.

"He is...but with access to the bi-frost at his fingertips, I know he plans to pop in to visit all of you soon," she said, as they arrived and found breakfast waiting for them. As they prepared to sit and eat, Thor came barging in.

"Uncle Thor!" the kids called, as the three of them rushed up to hug him. He laughed and lifted the twins effortlessly.

"Every time I see you both...you've grown a mile," he said, as he put them down and Carina hugged him too.

"And you've become a young woman," he said, as he approached them.

"Is he okay?" Fandral muttered.

"He's better now that most of the damage has been fixed...but he still needs a shave and to get back to training," Sif whispered back.

"It is so good to see you, my friend," Thor said, as they shook hands and he smirked.

"Looks like you've been busy too," he mentioned, enjoying razzing him and he shook his head.

"Yes...you remember Rose, of course and these are our second set of twins. Astrid and Gunnar," he said, introducing him to the babies that Sif and Rose were holding.

"Strong Asgardian names," Thor said, as he sat down.

"So…Sif tells us that you fixed the damage done by Thanos. That is amazing news," Rose said.

"Yes...but I should say we fixed it. The Avengers, that is. We gathered the Infinity Stones and snapped them all back. Or rather, Banner did," he explained.

"But I thought you said they were destroyed," Fandral replied.

"Ah...they were, but we used time travel and retrieved them from the past, then Banner snapped everyone back. Unfortunately, Thanos followed us back here from the past, but we killed him properly this time. Then Captain Rogers put the stones back in their places in the past," he said.

"Time travel? I've read so many books about it...it's really possible?" Rose asked excitedly.

"Truly...and though it came with its prices, most that were snapped are back now," he replied.

"That's wonderful news," Fandral replied.

"We heard about Natasha...we didn't know her well, but she did help us a great deal when Seth banished us," Rose said.

"Natasha was one of a kind," Thor agreed.

"Are you really leaving?" Fandral asked.

"Yes...it's time I be myself and not who everyone thinks I'm supposed to be. But New Asgard will be in good hands with Valkyrie and Sif," he replied.

"And you're going to space?" Ben asked in awe.

"That's right, young one...but I plan to pop in to visit you from time to time. I still need to see your Kingdom," he promised.

"We would love to have you," Rose said.

"Yes...but until then I will be off on a new adventure with the Guardians of the Galaxy with Quail and the Rabbit," Thor replied.

"I think his name is Quill," Sif said.

"That's what I said," Thor replied and she rolled her eyes.

"Well...if you're not leaving right away, we'd love to spend the day with you until you go," Fandral said.

"Excellent...with the bi-frost, this world is at our fingertips," he said, as they finished breakfast and then ventured out for the day to see this world.

~*~

The next day went off mostly like any other weekday, with the work and school day commencing and Bobby met Flynn outside Granny's, as he promised his Dad he would. His parents were inside having breakfast with some of his siblings and he was done and ready to head to school.

"Are you Flynn?" Bobby asked, as the taller boy came out of the Inn.

"Yeah…" he replied with a sigh.

"I'm Bobby Charming," he said, as he put his hand out. Flynn looked at his hand and then reluctantly shook it.

"Yeah…I know who you are. Everyone knows who you are," Flynn said. Bobby nodded.

"Yeah…I guess they do," he replied.

"Look...school is not my thing so why don't we just pretend I went with you and call it good?" he asked.

"Sorry...my Dad was pretty clear that it's school or juvie for you and if he's giving you a chance with your rap sheet, then I'd say it's because he sees good in you. So take the deal," Bobby refuted. Flynn snorted and followed him, as they walked to school.

"They make you walk? No car?" Flynn asked.

"I'm fifteen and they would take me, but I don't mind walking. It's not that far," Bobby replied.

"I can get us a car," Flynn mentioned.

"One that's yours?" Bobby asked. Flynn scoffed.

"Details," Flynn muttered.

"Do you even have a driver's license?" Bobby asked.

"I'm not above stealing a car...why would I bother to get the license to drive one?" Flynn answered with his own question.

"Good point...and I bet you have a lot of great skills that you use for crime. I bet you can put them all to good use and actually learn something," Bobby said.

"Doubtful junior...your Dad is wrong about me," Flynn replied.

"We'll see…" Bobby said, as they arrived at school.

~*~

"Hey honey...we ordered for you," Snow said, as Eva and Paul arrived for breakfast.

"Yeah...you're lucky. Hope and I were going to make a claim on your pancakes," Emma joked, as she poured her daughter's milk into her sippy cup, before putting it before her.

"You okay? You seem flustered," David said.

"I take it that none of you listened to Goldie's podcast last night," Eva replied.

"Gross...no," Emma said.

"Yeah...you're the only one that listens to her trash," Leo pointed out.

"Honey...you shouldn't listen to her. She's horrible and we don't care what she says about us," Snow admonished.

"I know, Mom...but last night was different. She went after Emma pretty hard and basically said that Bobby could destroy the whole world by himself. She's pushing fear about us now," Eva said.

"Okay…I don't like that," David replied.

"Me either...maybe we should listen," Snow said. Emma rolled her eyes.

"No...you guys, who cares what that lunatic says?" she asked.

"We don't...but if she's inciting people to be fearful of our children, that's wrong," Snow replied.

"I know, Mom...but we expected this. People were already afraid of us when they saw what we did in Seattle and then when they saw the battle with Seth, we knew that fear that was on the corners of the Internet before would become a bit more mainstream," Emma reasoned.

"We did, Princess...but it sounds like she's using certain rhetoric to radicalize people against us," David said.

"He's absolutely right...and it's exactly the type of warfare that General Mendoza and the intelligence agencies use every day," Patricia said, as she joined them.

"Then you think Goldie has been recruited by General Mendoza?" Snow asked.

"I've been listening to all of her podcasts...like Eva has and I sent Agent Harding to New York to do a little digging," she replied.

"Then you were able to pinpoint her and Grimm's location to New York?" David asked.

"Yes, but only generally speaking to the city, which wouldn't have been possible without a top notch hacker, who did a favor for Agent Harding. The VPN they're using is top of the line and I mean nearly un-hackable, so they couldn't get in to pinpoint any kind of location or even radius," she explained.

"But they got a general geographical location on the last broadcast and it's definitely coming from the state of New York," she added.

"Which means it's a pretty good guess that they're in New York City, hiding in a sea of over eight million people," Emma replied. Patricia nodded.

"I can't say with one hundred percent certainty, but yes...it's a good guess," she said.

"Any ideas on how to narrow down the location?" David asked.

"Short of getting Agent Harding killed? No...because if Mendoza is funding her, then it's too dangerous to send her in closer. But the good news is that Goldie's ratings are abysmal, especially compared to Eva's. That won't make him happy," Patricia replied.

"Do you think he'll stop funding her?" Snow asked.

"He'll threaten to...unless she finds a way to get more traffic to her trash broadcast. Whether she will or not remains to be seen. However, I think I know of a way to combat her that will probably get her to act more erratic or even slip up," Patricia replied.

"How?" David asked. She looked at Eva.

"To your credit, because you're a person of such integrity, you have yet to call her out on your broadcast. You completely ignore her, which has been effective. But now that she has gone after your family so viciously, especially your parents, I think it might be time to speak out against her," she replied.

"Now that she's gone after your siblings, especially your brother, who's still a minor, I think you can call her out and still maintain the moral high ground, so to speak," she added.

"Consider it done...I have no problem going after her and I can do it without sounding petty like her," Eva said.

"Good...because I think her purpose of going after you kids is to get a reaction from you two," Patricia replied. David sighed.

"Probably...even if we did know where she was and went barreling there, she'd spin it as aggression on our part," he said.

"Which is why this is better. This is definitely a war...but an information war and Eva is winning it against her. Ten fold," Patricia replied. Snow smiled.

"That's because Goldie is a two bit hack and Grimm's blog is abhorrent with stories that I'm sure only sadists want to read. And our baby, like all our babies, is incredibly talented," she said, as she hugged her daughter.

"She's right," David agreed, as he hugged her too.

"Thanks Mom and Dad, but I better go or we'll be late," she said to Paul. They paid their check and all parted ways for the day for their respective jobs.

~*~

Henry sat in his study, responding to some of his correspondence in New York and browsing what they had sent him. Apparently, they wanted a rebuttal to Grimm's latest blog posts, which were more twisted stories on classic characters and honestly, it was hard for him to read these scenarios when he knew Grimm would love to make his versions reality for many of the people he loved.

"Hey...you look like you could use this," Ella said, as she brought him a cocoa with cinnamon.

"Thanks...you have no idea," he said, as he took a sip.

"Ugh…I can't believe Grimm's grisly blog of horrors has that many hits," she mentioned, as she looked at the page.

"Me either...though in terms of the Internet, that's a pretty low to median amount of people," he reasoned.

"Still too many likes for my taste," she said. He smiled.

"Me too...but I think there's a reason he has no dislike button. I'm positive the dislikes would outweigh the likes," he mentioned.

"Very true...is this some of the same stuff in those manuscripts that we burned?" she asked.

"Probably...it doesn't surprise me that he digitally backed up the hard copies. Still creepy to think that he could have made all this reality if he had gotten blood from my grandparents and used it as ink," he shuddered.

"He can never get that now...and you're a much better writer than him. He's arrogant to think that he has any talent," she said.

"It's his family name...he thinks he's entitled to be the official story and some would consider him to be more official than me. A lot of movies and other stories have been based on the work of a Grimm," he reminded her.

"Mm...maybe, but you were chosen by Merlin and that makes you the official author and the best," she said, as she kissed him tenderly.

"Thanks," he said, with a smile.

"Come on...take a break. Let's go get lunch," she suggested.

"That sounds like a wonderful idea...I'm starved," he agreed, as he closed his laptop for now and they went to lunch. He would finish his rebuttal later. They exited the house and got a text on his phone.

"Who's it from?" she asked.

"Eva...she wants me to come on her next broadcast," he said.

"I guess she's going after Goldie and Grimm," he added.

"Well, it's about time after everything they've said about this family," Ella replied.

"I'm not surprised by the timing. They went after Mom and Bobby hard in their last one. If my grandparents knew where they were...they'd be toast right about now," Henry said.

"Which is probably exactly what they wanted and would have painted them as violent. This is a much better way to fight them," she reasoned.

"Agreed...though I can't say that none of us wouldn't enjoy seeing your Grams put an arrow in that blonde twat waffle," she added, making him laugh out loud.

"Yeah…I think we'd all enjoy that. But we can settle for completely discrediting her on Eva's podcast, which does bonkers numbers compared to Goldie's," he said. She smiled and nodded, as they drove to Granny's for lunch.

#Snowing #SnowxCharming #Charming family #OC Charmings #AU #original season 9 storyline #Rumbelle #OQ #CS #Fandral the Dashing #Rose Red #Dashing Rose #romance #adventure #family #Finding You Always #the epic continues

[calmlftv]

telephone - m.c. (part 1)

w/n: this was supposed to be a cute and soft blurb that turned into 10 pages on google docs, so it’s officially the longest thing i’ve written about 5sos! this part is a bit boring and slow so i apologize. part 2 coming soon! 

word count (part 1): 1.7k

warnings: n/a! 

Ever since the quarantine started, you were bored. Absolutely, totally, and completely bored. Because you took it all so seriously you stayed home as much as possible, and while your home was quite literally squeaky clean, you just couldn’t take the silence anymore; your friends were all still working from home, so while you had all the time in the world to talk, you tried not to bother them too much.

One day, just after dinner, your boredom had once again brought you to your Twitter feed. While it was probably the 4th time you had read through the same tweets, you finally found a new one; something your friend had liked during the day, probably while they were on a break from work. You paused when you read it, really thinking before you opened up iMessage. The tweet contained a phone number, and while you had no idea who this person was, you thought “why not?” and sent that first text.

Hello??, you sent, your boredom truly bringing you to this uncharted territory. Saw this phone number on Twitter, and lockdown is boring. Pls don’t be a serial killer. 

You set your phone down but left the conversation open, biting your lower lip as you stared at the screen. After what felt like forever but was only a few seconds you locked the screen, deciding you were just being weird and getting up to grab a snack for yourself. From the kitchen you heard the ping, your head snapping in that direction as you paused your actions. After a second you put everything down, your curiosity getting the better of you as you wandered back to your room and picked up the phone. 

An emoji appeared on the screen, one of the crying laughing ones, before a new blue bubble appeared below it. Am not a serial killer, the bubble read, causing you to sigh a bit in relief. Just a man who is also bored of lockdown. 

Locking the phone you set it down again, standing and pacing your bedroom as you thought. Could you really take this person's word for it? Could you really trust they weren’t tracking your cell phone right at that moment, just waiting for the right moment to grab you and carve you up for dinner? 

On the other side, however, was the loneliness of lockdown. Could you really go another day without talking to someone? Your friends do what they can, but loneliness has really crept up on you in this quarantine. Letting yourself trust this person was telling the truth wasn’t going to be the worst thing in the world, right?

Without much more thought you picked up your phone again, opening the conversation again and typing out your response. 

I’ve decided to trust you, Mister Stranger. You paused, sending that message before starting a new one. What’s your name, again? Unless you prefer being the handsome Mister Stranger.

You practically threw your phone on to your bed as you waited for the response, now forgetting about the snack you had prepared that was still sitting on the counter. Surprisingly your phone dinged rather quickly, the object being in your hand before you could even think about it. 

Well, you don’t know who I am, so how do you know I’m handsome? 

You bit your lip. Mister Stranger had a point. 

Good point, Mister. Maybe a name and a face, then? 

Another answer within a few seconds: You first.

You took a second to find a really cute photo of yourself and sent it, your name following in a separate speech bubble after it. The response was a smiling photo of the cutest blonde man you’ve ever seen; he had a chocolate Easter bunny in one hand, his blue eyes sparkling while he held it up for the selfie. He looked cute and sleepy all at once, like he had been just about to lie down in a nap. 

A second speech bubble appeared soon after, containing a name and a question. 

Name’s Michael. Michael Clifford. You really don’t have any idea who I am? 

The question was odd, your curiosity peaking again as you responded. 

No idea. Should I know? Are you really a serial killer after all? 

Definitely still not a serial killer, Michael’s response read. Hopefully you were making him laugh. Just a bit strange that you’re texting someone and you have no idea who they are. 

Oh I’ve done much worse with strangers. Almost immediately you blushed, regretting the response right after you had already sent it. 

Oh, she’s saucy. A winky face was added after that. That’s alright, we don’t need to dive into that at all. What have you been up to in this lockdown?

It didn’t take long for you to grow comfortable with this stranger -- Michael -- as you talked, both of you obviously invested in the conversations you were having. If you were honest, you really enjoyed the attention; you know people you care about have lives outside of you, but finally getting the attention you’ve been craving for so long was almost euphoric. So when Michael pointed out what time it was you cursed under your breath. 

Not like it matters anymore, you joked, adding a winking emoji to the text. But I should go to bed. Chat in the morning?

Michael quickly responded with the affirmative, causing you to smile as you said your goodnights. Once you were finished talking you laid in bed for a bit, looking up at the ceiling while your thoughts swirled around in your brain. Eventually you finally caved in to your curiosity, pulling out your laptop and typing Michael’s name into the Google search bar. 

The results were...nothing like you had expected. 

Photos ranged from obvious teenage years to the present day, his face splashed across your screen as you dove in a bit deeper. You got to laugh a bit at his multi-colored hair styles as you scrolled through, reading tabloid titles and gossip pages and even pausing over social media accounts dedicated just to him. It seemed like his band was much more popular than you thought; not that it would have affected the way you spoke to him, of course, it was just surprising that you had never heard of such a popular band. 

Your snooping eventually leads to uncovering his Instagram page, causing you to scroll through different posts and give him a quick follow. With his follower count so high you were sure he wouldn’t notice, so you brazenly snooped and looked at the photos of him. His dogs were adorable, and the photos he had with his girlfriend (?) were precious. Mentally you made a note to ask him about those things in the morning before you turned off your computer. 

Settling in once again you went through the conversation in your head. Usually small things about how you texted would bother you and sometimes other people, but this time nothing seemed to have been standing out; you would double, triple, or quadruple text Michael and he would do the very same with you. Having someone meet that energy was...different, but very much welcomed. 

With these thoughts swirling around your head, you drifted off to sleep, dreaming of puppies and a world without a possibly deadly virus. 

**

Sunlight filtered through your window, the wispy curtains you had hung not doing very much to keep the light from waking you. Slowly you were pulled from your sleep, a small groan escaping you as you reached for your phone. The time read 8:16 a.m., another groan emitting from you as you flung your blankets off of your body. Groggily you dragged yourself into your bathroom, running a hand down your face as you yawned and put your phone on the counter. You reached up and ran a hand through your hair as you checked your notifications, catching up on social media as your phone rested against the sink counter. 

A memory surfaced when you saw your missed texts, your fingers immediately tapping the conversation from last night. You forgot you had updated his contact to be his name, followed by the obvious dog emoji and you couldn’t help but smile. You really thought you were so clever, in the best way possible. 

After giving it much thought -- really, about 2 seconds -- you sent Michael another text. 

Good morning! Hope you have a great day today, x. 

For good measure you added a smile emoji and left it at that, not expecting any sort of answer until much later anyway. You dismissed the app and pulled open your favorite music one instead, playing your favorite playlist as you got into the shower and went about your day. 

Things got quiet again after that. Doing your spring cleaning occupied your thoughts, but on occasion they drifted back to your conversation with Michael; after your good morning text didn’t get a response you had simply given him space, sure he was just a busy guy with other things to do and worry about. Being in a band was tiring, and lockdowns probably didn’t stop everything he had to handle. 

During all your down time you had decided to listen to Michael’s band, going through the entire discography two or three times within the almost two weeks you didn’t hear from him. They really were incredibly talented, you decided, and a handful of them found their way on their daily rotation as you danced around your home. 

One day you were watching the television, just surfing through the different channels while you lounged on the couch. You were about to shove a fitsful of popcorn into your mouth when you came across the broadcast, the California state governor issuing another address about the state of emergency he had issued months ago. You sat up straight and turned the television up as the governor spoke, a smile on his face as he proudly announced the end of the lockdown. 

You immediately jumped up and cheered, knocking the full bowl of popcorn to the ground as you grabbed your phone. Immediately you were texting your group chat with all your friends, planning a killer kickback for the following weekend to celebrate your newfound freedom. Without any hesitation you tapped open the text thread with Michael, your single text from however many days before still sitting there unanswered. You don’t know why but you sent him one more, asking him if he wanted to come to the kickback before you finally noticed the mess on the floor. 

Still giddy you started to clean, this time not resenting the fact that you had to. 

#5 seconds of summer #5sos #michael clifford #michael clifford fanfiction #5 seconds of summer fanfiction #telephone. #my pride and joy ):

[tazzykiki]

I’m tired, angry and bored so here we go! A messy list of fucked up Public School Things that may or may not be a universal experience:

The Lunches were a mix of good and horrible:

I was usually fine with the lunches because they were pretty decent and, like, yay food! But looking back they were just, so wrong????

Like in my middle school lunches AND breakfast were a mess. I got food poisoning like once or twice from the breakfast and the lunch was pitiful. At one point they just stopped cooking the pasta and left a bunch of uncooked, powdery noodles in a plastic box like anyone was gonna grab them and be like “mm yes! my favorite! hard noodles!”. Like what the actual fuck.

The pizza was also in a box, none of the toppings were labeled so it was a gamble on what type you would get, and most of the time they were burnt. In HS the pizza was fine but it tasted fake as hell and I’m pretty sure they just took some rubber and put cheese on it.  

My HS lunches were better but even then it was just, really concerning how limited and odd the food was. Luckily we didn’t have to pay except for like cookies and stuff smaller than your hand that costs like $2 cuz they want to “promote healthiness” despite feeding us what is basically prison food.

The class sizes were horrifying: I’m sorry but what person can teach 30+ rowdy kids and be perfectly fine??? Not to mention this was the norm the whole day! Imagine grading all those papers, keeping track of every student, and making sure they all shut up long enough to teach. And that’s just for the teachers who actually care.

Like a class size should be a max of 20 with a few exceptions. Do you know how stressful it is for everyone involved? Not to mention, 30 kids was considered SMALL!! Some classes had 40, even 50 STUDENTS!!!! WHAT THE FUCK.

We never had enough books, or supplies, or anything. Usually by the half point of the year, half the books would be missing or destroyed and it was a mess. In HS the Drama and Music teachers had to deal with like, one class of 10-20, and then like 5 classes of 40-50(all mixed grades too). And you know what’s even more fucked up? There was only one of each teacher.

There was one drama teacher. Who btw deserves the world and legit cares about her job and students. I honestly hope she quit and went somewhere better. She had to put up with 40+ screaming kids, grade all of those assignments, deal with insult and harassment(she was plus-sized and white. So she couldn’t talk back, would get insulted, and more.The only white people allowed to be sassy in that school were funny white men that were laid back), and had barely enough supplies to get by.

There was one music teacher. Who also deserves the world and legit cares about her job and students. She had to deal with 40-50, almost 60+, kids. The majority of them being sophomores and freshman, with bits of seniors and juniors. She taught music, taught band, and organized events and performances. She is, I believe, the first and only music teacher in that school and that’s just so fucked up. Like imagine being one person and having to manage hundreds of students like that.

There was only one digital arts teacher but I have no idea what they did since you can’t choose what class you attend. I just know it was constantly crowded, never really applauded, and they weren’t involved in a lot of things.

Oh yes how could I forget the art teacher! Yeah no there was no art class that involved drawing and painting. Apparently that class was scrapped years ago and has now turned into a JROTC locker! :D Speaking of JROTC:

JROTC and Sports had too much support and that’s a serious problem:

Hey maybe it’s because I’m an art kid and I hate exercising(because every attempt to do so was met with laughter, humiliation, and the ridicule of my body even though I can’t control how my body grows and changes), but man did JROTC and sports(specifically football) have way too much attention.

We had not one, not two, but FOUR ENTIRE JROTC CLASSES! Classes training you to be in the military, specifically Air Force. Classes you HAD to take unless you wanted to be in gym(never had the class but from what I’ve heard, there were about 50-70 kids, mostly male, filling up that class and they didn’t do anything but play ball or whatever. All of course, taught by one guy).

Somehow this program had enough support for uniforms, 4 different classrooms, supplies, several teachers(all of whom were in the military at one point[they were chill except for the freshman teacher who called you a whiny baby for being in pain]), and more. 

Not to mention, every so often military people would come by with pretty pamphlets and fun little strength tests and have kids to sign up to newsletters and shit and ask them to join the military when they graduate so they can get free college and happy fun times!! :D

Football was given way too much attention, even over the other sports, and I absolutely hate it. Every month was about  football, football, football. So much money went into football, so much support went into football. Yeah yeah yeah follow your dreams or whatever the fuck they tell you on Disney Channel, but there was too much support on this one sport that involved kids breaking their heads open. 

Please please give me ONE valid reason why this irritating-ass sport had so much attention while art students, craft students, theater students, music students, students who want to work in literally any other field that doesn’t involve science or sports had to fucking scrape every tiny little chance they could from the crumbs that were left behind. PLEASE tell me why I had to join a completely different program that was hella exclusive and restricted to Juniors and Seniors that had a certain skill-level just to have a proper arts class while football players got a cool fancy bus, a shit ton of gear, and praise every single day(seriously their pictures and trophies were everywhere). 

Why is it that they get scholarships and full rides for throwing a ball around and bashing their brains open while I had to fucking destroy my hand and scramble around for some shit like $200 which I wouldn’t even get because I don’t have the skill to paint the mona lisa or whatever. Anywayyyy~

Hey what the fuck was up with the rules? Sorry kids but if you’re reading this, everything they tell you on tv about high school is a lie. Unless you watched the Dora the Explorer movie, then that was actually pretty accurate.

Hey is it weird we had metal detectors and legit police officers(who were armed) in our school? Is it weird that we had to wear plastic, see-through book-bags, that weren’t even given to us for free and were so weak that they had to get rid of that rule because they would break after like 2 months? Is it weird we were all stuffed into a nasty, sticky, pest-ridden, staircase right in front of the main doors in the morning because we weren’t allowed all the way inside for whatever reason unless it was for a club(i.e. sports)? Is it weird that we were all trapped in the lunch room by security guards because they didn’t want kids roaming the halls even though they already did? Is it weird we weren’t allowed to go to the bathroom and were always told “you should’ve went your last class” when your last class didn’t let you? Is it weird we weren’t allowed to use the bathroom and were always told that “you should’ve went during the transition time” even though the transition time was only 4 minutes and the hallways were so crowded that it’d be time for class by the time you’d get there?

Is it weird that when we were allowed to use the bathroom, all of the bathrooms were locked and only one on the other side of the school was open, and the majority of the stalls were broken? And they kept the bathrooms locked, even after school, because they didn’t want kids skipping class even though they still did?

Is it weird that if you didn’t have a belt(if you were male), or a part of your uniform, you would be prevented from going to class if there were no more temporary uniforms?

Is it weird that if one kid did something bad, the entire class would be punished and class time would be wasted and the point of punishment would be lost because the teacher wanted a taste of power or whatever?(hey one time in 8th grade, both classes had to stand in one long ass line for about half an hour because someone was talking and it was treated like it was a joke. this took up our breakfast time too)

Other Shit: One time my HS got like $20,000 and instead of using it to fix at least one thing, they wasted it on useless flatscreen tv’s and SAT “tutors” that taught us 3rd grade english & math, how to annotate(I swear to fucking god one more person try and teach me how to underline a motherfucking sentence---) and did absolutely nothing to help us. Meanwhile the football players were living like kings.

We had a strange assortment of teachers, ya’ll know about my junior and senior english teacher. But did I ever tell you about the freshman JROTC instructor? She was so much fun~ I remember one time!!! ooh this is a good one :DDDD!!!! that I was in so muuuuuch pain that I was crying and couldn’t move! and guess what!!!!???? ooh! ooh! guess! She called me a whiny baby and said I was overreacting!!!! omg? She was so right tho, I was totally overreacting to being in immense, insufferable, pain that no one even attempted to be concerned about~~ 

Oh here’s another good one: I used to cry a lot! It was horribly embarrassing and not fun~ I was either sick, on my period(which according to the multiple doctors I had to be rushed to, was normal and the intense pain was hereditary), or having an emotional breakdown~ This lasted from 5th grade to Senior Year of HS! :D

One time I was in a lot of pain, 7th grade I believe, and cried for a whole hour straight. What did my teacher do? Have me sit in class while everyone went to like social studies or whatever, talked with some teachers, and then complained about how I “cried and cried and cried for an hour straight” with no concern whatsoever. BTW the nurse was never there and even then she was kinda useless.

Don’t even get me started on the several times I was on my period and was actually screaming in pain and was still looked down on because a student screaming and hollering in pain is no cause for concern obviously~ Really surprising how a lot of the male teachers and staff were more concerned then the female ones, especially the science teacher who has a uterus, has multiple daughters, and the audacity to say I’m ~overreacting~. I’m so happy our teachers and schools have our priorities in order.

Note: If you’re horrified by this. Good. You should be.

More misc things: My HS had a shit ton of roaches, water bugs, and whatever those long disgusting things that walk around on the walls and fall off once you see them. Art meant nothing to them. Teacher sanity meant nothing, student sanity meant nothing. The principal was great and I blame whoever’s “funding” schools and working behind the scenes.  I know this was more about personal stuff, but like a lot of things like large classes, lack of supplies, lack of empathy from teachers, constant pests, horrible food, stupid rules that hurt us more than helped, really weird exposure to cops and military, and too much focus on one subject is super common in public schools and I really really want it to stop.

#tazzykiki #long post #public schools #here's that rant i promised #honestly greg was smart not sending steven to school #not telling what could've happened #cuz look at this shit #okay to reblog and even add on #plz tell me im not the only one

[comicsteve-blog]

23ish Things I’ve Learned about the World from Coronavirus.

This is not meant to belittle any of the chaos but to offer some slightly humorous perspective. Here are my quick observations on our new world:

1)      ‘Driveway drinks’ are all the rage. - I’m a ‘social social’ distancer (SSD) and proactively socialize from 10-12 feet away.  Most of us have reluctantly embraced social distancing.  However, if you’re a social person, the creative emphasis is on the “social” part, not the “distance”.  New taglines are emerging such as “Hey let’s eat not together”, “Facetime drinks anyone?”, or “Love to see you from 7 feet away!”  Personal space will never be…. the ……     same.

·        (as an aside, there’s definitely a subset of the population who's thrilled to have a valid reason to be as anti-social as possible... you people know who you are).

2)      Join me for a scotch by phone!  Zoom video happy hours (ZVHH) will be a new thing.  And they’re much cheaper to host - I open the Zoom room, you bring your own alcohol. Pants not required.

3)      Household dynamics have changed - Stay at home moms & dads now have stressed out working from home husbands & wives, plus children learning at home. You’re forced to share your space, which can cause major distress.  Soon each person will be assigned a room. Who gets the kitchen as their safe space? Who gets the bathroom? Trades will be made, fights will occur.  I’ll trade you an avocado for use of the toilet.

4)      Pre-Corona sanitizing – was there any?  With everyone’s justified obsession with constant handwashing and sanitizing, it begs the question: Were we all dirty and unsanitary beforehand??  Was the subway ever sanitary?  When was the last time my crappy gym was cleaned? Howie Mandel aside, I’m just not clear on where we stood on cleanliness in the past?    

5)      Demographic trends are emerging – Here are the top predicted trends that will emerge in the coming months/years: Corona-babies.  Corona-divorces.  Highest percentage of babies born to the recently divorced.  Babies named Corona to honor their conception.  Babies born very, very clean.

6)      Spouse anxiety inequity (SAI) – This occurs when your spouse is exponentially more worried than you are.  You’re ok with washing hands and taking basic precautions. But you’re not as keen to go apesh*t with your paranoia.  One spouse is freaking out, the other is fine. Kids are confused, households divided.  There are hand washing timers and toilet paper square limits.  Of course, intimacy is out of the question until everything has been sufficiently washed for 20 seconds or more.

7)      Newfound family time (NFT) - People have discovered things they never knew existed: 1) walks are a thing 2) family togetherness 3) nature.  We didn’t need Trump to make America great again, it was the coronavirus.  If there’s one thing we can be grateful for:  newfound family love 😊.  (note: too much of this will promptly lead to divorce).

8)      Emails, so many emails! – Every company I’ve ever shopped or transacted at in the past 15 years has sent me emails.  I get hundreds a day from businesses I forgot all about.  It’s good to be back in touch Pilates studio I went to once 11 years ago! And I’m glad to hear you’re disinfecting your counters.

9)      Physical greetings have eternally changed - Hand shaking is gone forever.  Fist bumping is thankfully gone.  Elbow shakes are a new thing. Head nods are nice.  Finger guns are making a strong comeback.  What else will emerge?

10)   Rules about remote schooling – While teaching virtually, schools are encouraging kids to use Facetime and social media to be safe. Education by Tik-tok??  Despite the near term logic, everything we’ve been yelling at them about the past 10 years is out the window!  Between social distancing and strictly electronic communication, I worry if kids will ever learn to talk to people in person?  Is eye contact still a thing?

On the other hand, it’s a strange kind of torture for kids to be out of school yet unable to see their friends or play ball in the park.

11)   Conversation about anything but Coronavirus is no longer a thing - I for one am burned out.  I’m not trying to downplay the chaos; I’m just anxious and frustrated at having the same conversation repeatedly.   Can we maybe discuss something else - even for a minute?  Still, regardless of whatever topic you begin to explore during dinner, it inevitably gets turned back to COVID-19 in the end (even sex).

12)   Watching the news is the most dangerous activity you can do - Nothing brings panic and anxiety more than CNN.  By the way, has anything else happened in the news in the past week?  Isn’t this an election year?  I don’t know that I’ve heard any other stories. I feel badly for people who get sick or injured from non-COVID19 things… no one seems to care. (unless of course you’re Tom Hanks and have contracted COVID-19).

13)   Reevaluating what you buy in the grocery store - You used to have a plan.  Now you gladly take whatever’s left on the shelf. We don’t eat this.  We do now!  

·        Only loser pasta is left.  Gluten free, pasta made from chickpeas (what??).

·        While the chicken is gone, there’s tons of fake meat available.  Impossible!

·        As a related aside, is there a reason everyone’s buying 18 cartons of toilet paper?  Does coronavirus cause diarrhea? (does fake meat?)

·        What’s the protocol for produce?  It’s out and has clearly been touched.  Hmmm. To be safe, I recommend turning all fruit into sangria “to kill the germs”

·        Finally, I almost got into a knife fight at Shoprite last night because some fool tried to grab a bag of that delicious yellow Vigo rice out of my shopping cart.  Some things are worth fighting for (as an aside, you can have my gluten free bread and oat milk).

14)   The accidental cough (TAC) - God forbid someone coughs or sneezes publicly; they’re immediately met with dread.  How dare you! Stay away! A sneeze on the bus is perhaps the most appalling thing anyone could do right now.  The dry cough?  Even worse.  Please keep your non-corona bodily reactions to yourself.

15)   Homemade hand sanitizer is a thing – I heard some are wasting perfectly good Tito’s vodka to try and make their own hand sanitizer.  Tito’s had to put out a statement that it doesn’t work because the alcohol content is too low.  In unrelated news, the moonshine business is really taking off nicely.

16)   Watching sports – Seems like the sports networks, having run out of things to discuss, are now playing classics.  I enjoyed the Mets-Expos 17 inning game from 1988 but seriously there’s got to be better programming options.  We’re all home watching TV after all.  BTW, if COVID-19 can’t boost network TV ratings, I’m not sure what could. (also please stop broadcasting video game football, that’s not a real sport).

17)   Avoid large gatherings - Done.  Small gatherings are all the rage.  50+ no good. 49 or under… no problem.  (note this # changes daily, soon 7 will be the new cap).

18)   Bars were closed on St. Patrick’s Day ☹ - This is an oxymoron.  So what are we to do?  Host a Zoom happy hour of course.  Up to 49 people can attend (not sure I know that many people).  I do feel bad for bar owners – their Superbowl has been cancelled.

19)   No fighting – Somewhat related to St. Patty’s, fighting is now a thing of the past. You can aggressively curse someone out for coughing in public.  Unless that person is unconcerned, there will be no physical retaliation.  Go ahead, try it.

20)   Travel deals anyone?  Sure I imagine all travel may be shut down soon…. But in the meantime, you can quickly (and irresponsibly) book a trip to Florida for $50, the Caribbean for $75, or the space station on the moon for $179.  Depending on your risk tolerance and recklessness, this is a great opportunity to see the world.

21)   Ignore the stock market – Like everybody else, I watch in disgust as my investments plunge.  But I don’t need this money tomorrow, so I’m doing my best to ignore it.  Plus there are some obvious areas to potentially invest in:  Zoom.  Reckitt Benckiser (owns Lysol).  Gojo Industries (owns Purell).  P&G (TP).  Netflix.  And of course alcohol and cannabis companies are always a safe bet.

22)   Classes at the Polo Club are shut down – this is perhaps the worse tragedy of all. The Polo Club in Boca Raton has canceled its classes. For fk’s sake!  If my 75-year-old mother can’t start her day with Zumba, all hell is sure to break lose.  As a related aside, mah-jongg tiles are basically carriers in and of themselves. You’ve never seen a Florida community spread a virus until a mah-jongg tournament gets underway.

23)   Observe young children and animals -  I realize that sounds awfully inappropriate.  But I love the fact that my dog and kids playing outside are so innocent and naïve during these times. They don’t seem to have a worry in the world and keep enjoying life with a smile (or tail wag).  Think like a child or a puppy, maybe you’ll feel better for a moment or two.

 Kidding aside, we’re all doing our best to control this pandemic and get over the hump…. I leverage humor to treat my pain, and I think we all could use a little levity right now. Eventually, we’ll overcome and be back to a new normal (minus handshakes and in-person happy hours).  

If you need me, I’ll be performing in an empty comedy club down the street.  Stay tuned for my next post – foolproof tips on working from home!   Stay safe my friends, Steve

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

Stephen Strauss survived the corporate world for 20+ years and is now a content and marketing consultant. He’s performed stand-up comedy hundreds of times at comedy clubs and corporate functions including sales meetings and customer events. Research confirms his jokes made his fellow co-workers 47% happier.

Please connect at [email protected], via LinkedIn, or just open your window and scream his name (that's probably safest).

[stluciasstudentjail]

17A, 4B, 7B, 3B, 9B, 1C, 3D, 5D, 1E, 5E, 7E, 5F, 7F, 5G, 4I, 7J, 1L, 4L, 9L for the WHOLE DAMN SQUAD

17A What’s one of your OC’s proudest moments of themselves?

Renee: Leaving! Saying fuck it, kill me, idc I'm not working for you anymore and going off to do her own thing. It was terrifying and rewarding. 

Alister: He really likes actually putting his skills to good use, so actually being able to subdue Cas who was fucking FERAL without killing him and helping talk him down was one of them bc actually getting out of a situation like that without having to kill anyone is rare. 

Cameron: Insulting Steve to the point where he actually was at a loss for words. He got punched, but it was worth it. 

Cas: There have been a few times when he's actually been able to stare down Kate and stand up for himself after he escaped and ohhh boy that gives him some sweet dopamine. 

Rory: Drugging Lucas's food, locking him in the bathroom, and going off into the night. Truly iconique and also how she was able to run into Renee. 

4B Do they tip well? How easily can they be moved to not leave a tip?

Renee: Always tips, but will tip extra depending on the service. 15-20 percent

Alister: Tips well, unless the waiter is *really* bad. 10-5 percent if they're shitty, 20 for everyone else.  

Cameron: Tips what he can, which may not be a lot. about 15 percent. 

Cas: Will tip the same regardless of service. 30 percent. 

Rory: Will tip, but will NOT tip an extremely rude waiter. about 15 percent.

7b How do they respond to babies crying in public?

Renee: No judgement, of course. She'll give them a smile especially if the mother is embarrassed. 

Alister: It doesn't bother him at all, but he'll let the parents comfort their own baby.

Cameron: Might try to make them laugh if they're especially distressed. He's pretty good at it.

Cas: Has no clue what to do, but wouldn't think of complaining about it.

Rory: Finds it a bit annoying of it's PIERCING, but knows it's not the baby/moms fault so she just hangs back.

3b Under what situations would they get angry at servers, staff, customer service, et cetera?

Renee: She's pretty patient with honest mistakes like getting her order wrong, but any overt douchebaggery towards her or other staff and she'll snap back. 

Alister: He'll get snippy back at bitchy service staff, but he doesn't really care to sit there and argue unless he were ripped off or something. He'd  say something at, say, a boss screaming at their employee. 

Cameron: If he notices he's being passed over or not treated as well as other customers he'll say so. 

Cas: No situation, really, unless he witnesses some sort of blatant discrimination. 

Rory: She'll respond to rudeness with rudeness, but other than that she's a surprisingly easy customer. 

9b  What kind of humor does your OC like the most? Slapstick, ironic, funny sounds, scare pranks, xD sO rAnDoM…

Renee: Any kind of humor if it's done right, she likes to laugh but doesn't like anything over done. 

Alister: Sarcasm and people being dragged

Cas: Funny, but harmless pranks. 

Cameron: Pranks and gay chicken

Rory: Heavy sarcasm and teasing. But she does think some slapstick is kinda funny. 

1c Does your OC have a moral code? If not, how do they base their actions? If so, where does it come from, and how seriously do they take it?

Renee: Simply don't hurt children/innocent people, and don't cause unneeded suffering, especially when she's out on her own. If she's really enraged that can flip, but not easily. Also, she tends to want to stay away from criminal activity in general. 

Alister:  prefers not to kill unless he has to. This tends to be flexible when encountering someone who hurts his friends/family as he has absolutely no qualms about killing them. He won't kill or hurt children.

Cameron: He wouldn't want to kill another person, full stop. The only way he'd do it is in defense of himself or someone else.

Cas: He doesn't like to kill, or even fight really. Obviously that depends on the circumstances, but still. 

Rory: Let's just say all the children don't want to murder people

3dHow comfortable are they with the idea of death?

Renee: She accepted that it's the most likely thing to happen is that she'll die young, but isn't all that comfortable with it and tries to push the thought to the side. 

Alister: Depends on the circumstances aka who murders him, but he'd rather not think about it.

Cameron: Uh, not. At all. 

Cas: Sometimes he's okay with it, sometimes it terrifies him.

Rory: Would definitely rather not think about it either.

5d Do they believe in ghosts? If not, why? If so, do they think they’re magical/tie into their religion, or are they scientifically plausible?

Renee: Kinda indifferent, but isn't opposed to the possibility.

Alister: Nope, does not believe in ghosts or anything like that. 

Cameron: Yes, and will equate any weird situation to ghosts.

Cas: Yes, but wants them far away from him.

Rory: Flips back and forth, but usually it's a yes.

1e Would you say that your OC is intelligent? In what ways? Would your OC agree?

Renee: She's clever, and good at manipulation when she needs to be. She'd agree emphatically.

Alister: Yeah, esp when it comes to planning things out or being generally perceptive. He'd probably agree. 

Cameron: Yes when it comes to school/social situations and no when it comes to not being impulsive. He'd say he's smart, though.

Cas: He's more clever than he lets on, but is more book smart than street smart. He wouldn't describe himself that way.

Rory: She is, since she's an overachiever and likes to prove herself. She's also gotten herself out of a lot of bad situations, but is still impulsive. She'd say she's a genius, of course.

5e What’s their highest education level? Do they want to continue their education?

Renee: She actually got her diploma when she started working, just because she wanted more options to be open if she needed them. She was pretty far behind but she's a hard worker so it didn't take her long. She's not particularly interested in college, but wouldn't be against trying it.

Alister: Kinda hard to pinpoint, because as shitty as Soren was he did let him go to high school before making him drop out when it  interfered with his work. Probably about a grade 11 level, which he would be interested in finishing up if he were more optimistic about being able to live a "normal" life.

Cas: He was taken at about 13, so he has the lowest education. However, he was actually bumped ahead a grade when he was still in school because he's actually quite studious. He would definitely love to go back with the right push and he'd be interested in college.

Rory: She's still in HS but she will definitely want to go to college and is very driven when it comes to her studies. (in the rp she probably wants to be like Rae and try computer science, but would probably branch off into something a little different)

Cameron: Still HS. He's a bit of a slacker and could probably do really well if he tried a bit harder, but it can be difficult to grab his attention. Once he gets to his senior year he'll start taking his education more seriously, though, and would do well in college.

7e Are they a good note-taker? Are they a good test-taker? Do exams make them nervous?

Renee: More likely to wing it and still do well, and she's good at pushing her nervousness aside.

Alister: Probably would be pretty good at prepping for that sort of thing, he wouldn't really be worried about it.

Cas: A nervous wreck, for sure, but would always do well anyway.

Rory: Is nervous about certain exams, but is usually confident and does well.

Cameron: Forgets to study and then is like Oh No...

5f How handy are they? Can they fix appliances, cars, cabinets, et cetera?

Renee: She can change a tire but if something in the house breaks she's hopeless and just calls for help. Mostly because it's tedious.

Alister: Knows the basics from living on his own but gets annoyed spending too much time trying to fix something.

Cas: Nope, everything goes right to the shop.

Rory: Not really, unless it's something small.

Cameron: He ain't handy, but maybe he'll learn.

7f What’s their “dream career” or job situation?

Renee:  A professional dancer, of course.

Alister: Something where he could put his skills to good use without having to be reminded of his past, which could be a lot of things really bc he aint picky 

Cas: Fuckin uh... he'd be happy with almost anything, but he'd prefer no physical labor and freedom to make decisions.

Rory: Maybe a type A business bitch or something along those lines

Cameron: He has nooo clue but right now he wants it to be something cool.

5G Did they go through any typical phases growing up?

Renee: She went through a very abrasive phase in her early to mid teens but mellowed out later. 

Alister: He had some periods of recklessness in his teens, but that was quickly squashed out by getting his ass kicked whomstever adult he thought it would be smart to try and fight.

Cas: Before he was taken he was just starting to be in a bit of a distant, sulky "i'm so grown up" phase. It wouldn't have lasted long.

Rory: Aside from general bratty snarkiness, she had a terrible "mine" phase when she was two that was probably over indulged. 

Cameron: He was THAT child who would start conversations with strangers out of nowhere and had to be watched carefully so he didn't wander off.

41 How often do they cook? Do they order out a lot?

Renee: Mostly orders out, but can cook if she needs to.

Alister: He cooks almost everything, unless he feels really lazy.

Cas: Absolutely cannot cook, so never. Mcdonalds err day.

Rory: Not often. She's pretty good at step by step baking, but not cooking.

Cameron: Can only make boxed mac and cheese...

7j How much interest in environmental health do they have?

Renee: A lot, will seperate her CANS but unfortunately cannot take short showers.

Alister: Doesn't really think about it that much, but makes at least a bit of effort to recycle.

Cas: Absolutely does not think about it, but if it were explained to him he'd go all out.

Rory: She cares, but doesn't really know what to do about it.

Cameron: Uses plastic straws :( 

1l How have your characters changed since you created them?

Renee: She's gotten more toned down and intelligent, like she used to be hyper as fuck and kinda annoying. She's also more reserved and even a bit cold sometimes, whereas before she would probably slam her life story on a random stranger. Also, she has a bigger temper than before.

 Alister: haha ohhh boy, like. He's not flirtatous or weird anymore at ALL, he's closed off and grumpy but at the same time a better person and not a fucking freak. Also weird but he went from being a male pre renee to being really mean to the point of being insufferable before getting more balanced.

Cas: He came off as a bit more insidious in that he liked to fuck with people by saying weird, creepy serial killer things and put everyone off. Now most of his inappropriate comments are because he's socially unaware, not on purpose. 

Rory: She used to be a bit of a dumbass and really, really mean as opposed to just sarcastic and socially awkward oh and she looked like shit but they all did so.

Cameron: He was more... normal. Like, less outgoing and really average/lowkey boring until he got fleshed out more.

4l Would you hang out with your OC if you could?

Renee: Yeah, why not lol

Alister: fuck no 

Cas: In short bursts, maybe.

Rory: hard pass

Cameron: nope, esp not the kids.

9l How did you come up with your OC?

Renee: she was based on irene adler from the benny crumpleton show hence her early annoyingness. She's not like her at all now.

Alister: I literally only made him because I didn't have any male characters and he was designed purely for Edge.

Cas: I deadass just wanted someone to fuck with the squad

Rory: I wanted a female character who was antagonistic and fucked these people over but. she did no such thing.

Cameron: an accessory to Alister's backstory yo.

#oc tag #bakugosucks

[another-trashmouth-blog]

Caught in a Crush | 01

↳ PAIRING: Richie Tozier x Fem!Reader

↳ WORD COUNT: 4 202

↳ SUMMARY: Beverly introduced you to the Loser’s Club, being that you were new and already picked on. You soon became close friends with the group, but didn’t realize that one of them kept stealing glances at you every time you looked away.

A/N: They’re all 15 here, so it’s about 2 years after the It encounter. Sorry if this is kinda long, I am incapable of writing short stories. Happy with it, though. Had to cut it up, since it was getting too long..

You were never the most social of human beings out there, and weren’t the best at making new friends. That was why you dreaded the idea of moving to Derry, when your parents announced it.

It wasn’t like you had a never-ending amount of friends back home, but at least you had managed to scrape in a few. Those few friends now having been made for nothing.

But your parents didn’t listen, as they never did. They couldn’t really care less. The moment you stopped wearing dresses and started hanging more with boys than with girls, they seemed almost ashamed of you and stopped paying attention. Of course it still hurt sometimes, but you had gotten used to it.

And when you finally moved to Derry, you had started hating it even more. Your family had moved there at the end of spring, making you join school towards the end of the term.

Your first day at the new school, your plan had been to stay as invisible and unnoticeable as possible, thinking that it wouldn’t be too hard for someone like you. But unfortunately, your plan hadn’t really gone exactly as intended.

The day had mostly been just fine - well, as fine as it could have been. It was when you were on your way out, having just exited through the doors that you suddenly tripped on a foot that had appeared from beside you, making you fall face-first to the ground, your nose hitting the concrete.

You immediately groaned, sitting up and holding your nose in pain, quickly feeling your fingertips get wet with crimson blood, your nosebleed not taking long to drip down your face.

“Ah, what’s this? Fresh meat?” You heard a male voice with a harsh tone speak from behind you. You whipped your head around, staring up at the source of the mocking words, being met by a tall boy with a golden mullet, accompanied by two other boys behind him.

“Yeah, I don’t really remember seeing that face around before.” The bleached blonde guy next to the first one spoke.

“Either she’s new, or we just haven’t noticed her ‘cause she’s so short.” The one with a mullet snickered.

You realized that this group was probably the stereotypical group of bullies at school, being that they had started picking on you so easily, despite you being new. The topic of bullies wasn’t unfamiliar with you. You had been bullied and teased in the past. Although, those situations hadn’t immediately started off on a physically harming note.

“Is she even a girl? I can’t tell, she dresses like a boy.” The slightly bigger one beside the other two said, making you instinctively roll your eyes as you wiped your nose on your jean-jacket’s sleeve. You had already heard it all at one point or another.

You made a move to stand up, thinking that ignoring the three boys would have been the best option, only to be pushed right back down.

“Who do you think you’re rolling your eyes at, kid?!” The first one exclaimed at you, your eyes slightly widening at his aggressive nature. “You dumb-looking dwarf.” He finished.

You usually wouldn’t acknowledge bullies, but there was something about this one that made you both more frightened and more angry.

“You say I look dumb, but you’re the one with a mullet.” You slipped out, not realizing the possible consequences. Most bullies wouldn’t dare to go too far, and that’s why you had the courage to fight back.

The boy looked slightly dumbfounded at your sudden bravery, but his expression quickly turned to one of fury as he leaned down and grabbed you by the collar as he yanked you closer to his face.

“You better shut that mouth of yours the fuck up, kid!” He spit at you. “Unless you want to see what happens when you don’t!”

Your eyes only widened, finding yourself genuinely afraid of what he would do to you, trying to think of effective ways to get yourself out of the situation.

“Bowers!” An adult male voice called from behind you. The boy’s head snapped to the side, meeting the presence of a teacher glaring at him seriously. He let go of your collar, your behind hitting the ground with a thud, your eyes staring at the grown-up beside you.

“Come on, guys, let’s go.” The bully said, sending you one last glare before him and his two buddies walked away.

Your gaze turned hopeful as you fixed it on the teacher again, expecting him to help you or comfort you, only to be met by his uninterested eyes as he soon left for his own as well.

Confusion couldn’t help but cloud your mind as to why the teacher wasn’t doing anything about the situation, since as far as you knew it was a part of their job.

But you were quickly snapped back to reality as you tasted iron at the tip of your tongue, remembering the pounding nosebleed dripping down your face.

“Need a hand?” A voice called out, your eyes looking up to see a girl with short red hair and piercing blue eyes at your side, a hand reaching out to you.

You hesitantly accepted her assistance, letting her pull you up and walk you in through the hallway and into the bathroom.

She didn’t speak until she had dampened some paper with tap water, handing it to you and watching you wipe it across your mouth.

“I’m Beverly. Beverly Marsh.” She introduced herself. “What’s your name? I haven’t seen you here before.”

You threw the reddened piece of scrunched up paper in the bin, giving her a meaningful look as you reached for a new one.

“I’m (Y/N) (L/N),” You replied. “And I’m new here. Moved to Derry a few days ago.”

“I see. Well, I’m sorry you had to get such a rough welcoming from Henry Bowers and his gang.”

“Don’t worry, it’s not the first time I’ve been picked on.” You said with a bitter tone, continuing the cleaning of your face.

The door suddenly opened to the bathroom, a group of a few girls walking in. You noticed that Beverly’s face got slightly paler, as she directed her focus to the floor.

“Ugh, it stinks in here.” One of the girls groaned, your eyebrows raising slightly. “I think it’s that disgusting smell of slut again.” She continued, making her friends smirk.

It dawned over you quite quickly, that these were probably girls that had bullied Beverly before, considering her reaction and the offensive words they used.

“Ugh, those losers aren’t enough for you? Now you’re going around being a slut around girls too? Pathetic whore.” The girl scowled again, walking into one of the stalls.

With a disgusted look dawning over your face, you quickly rolled up two smaller pieces of paper together and stuck one up each nostril, wanting to get Beverly out of there as fast as you could.

“Let’s go?” You suggested, Beverly only giving you a slight smile and nod as a response.

On your way out of the restroom, you couldn’t help but open your mouth and make a comment.

“I think she should marry that Bowers kid. An ugly asshole for an even uglier laughable bitch.” You spoke, right before the door closed, well aware that the girls inside could hear you. Beverly’s eyes widened as you smiled back at her, earning a smile from her as well. She quickly took a hold of your hand, running down the hallway quickly, making sure that you got away in time.

After that day, you were more or less attached to Beverly by the hip at school, eating lunch with her and making sure you found her during your short breaks. It took some time before you actually hung out outside of school, going to the park or shopping for random things when you finally did. Though, the two of you became close quite quickly. You would help each other avoid the bullies, only running into them on some unfortunate occasions, but all in all managing it surprisingly well. You would talk about lighthearted things and less lighthearted things, and just grew comfortable in one another’s presence.

You knew she had other friends. A group of boys that you had learned were known as the Loser’s Club. It sounded cheesy, but you were told that the name had existed for several years. Though, being that you were never really that interested, you never actually took your time to learn who those boys actually were. Beverly had talked about them from time to time, telling you how they were more or less the main targets for Henry Bowers’ bullying. She said she considered them her family and that you had to meet them some day. You had been reluctant, your antisocial nature being the cause of that. But she insisted, and that was why you found yourself having plans to finally meet the infamous group of boys after the last day of school.

You sighed as you exited through the doors, ready to go home for awhile before you were to meet up with Beverly, only slightly more excited as the summer had officially started. Warily eyeing your surroundings, you made sure that Henry Bowers was nowhere too near, and started a speedy pace in the direction of your bike, walking past the groups of many other students on the way.

Your throat quickly tightened when you spotted Henry and his gang not too far away, and quickly jogged over to your bike. Only once you had reached the vehicle, did you stop to inspect what the three bullies were up to. That was when you realized that they were picking on a group of boys.

You had witnessed Henry’s antics many times before, and despite feeling slightly guilty about it, you would always leave and make sure you kept yourself out of the drama. But when you noticed the cops standing a small distance away, a spark lit inside of you and soon you found yourself walking towards the scene.

The cops were only at the school because of some break-in that the school had over the night, probably something pointless and irrelevant. But it turned out to work in your favor.

As you kept walking towards them, you watched as Henry pushed over a guy with glasses, making him fall into another shorter one of the targeted boys and his glasses flying off of his head and landing on the grass.

“What was that, Bucky Beaver?” Henry growled. “Can’t hear through all the shit spewing out of your mouth.”

Henry started moving to pick up the glasses that were lying on the ground, making you accelerate your pace. Just before his fingers could reach the frames, you pushed him over, making him fall on to the grass under him.

You only glared at him unerringly, watching as he turned to look at you with a shocked face, soon turning into one of annoyance.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the dwarf herself.” He scowled, quickly standing up and pacing towards you, pushing you up against a tree with a tight grip on your collar. “Or himself, I can’t fucking remember!” He mocked, however his face and tone only suggesting anger.

“If you think calling me a boy will hurt me, try again, asshole.” You retaliated, swallowing the sliver of fear balling up in your throat.

He growled as he slammed you into the tree again, making you moan in turn.

“You’re gonna fucking regret trying to act like some shitty hero, you ugly whore!”

You watched as he went to grab something from his back pocket, not wanting to find out what he was keeping in there. So, you quickly opened your mouth.

“You’re old enough to be arrested, aren’t you, Bowers?” You quickly spoke, grip tight around the wrist of his hand still holding your collar.

“The fuck are you on about?” He spit in your face, making you nod your head in the direction of something behind him.

He whipped his head around, spotting the cops further away, who were already looking in your direction, seemingly contemplating if something was going on.

His grip loosened around the fabric of your t-shirt, his reluctance obvious as he started walking away.

“You just wait, you bitch. You better sleep with your eyes open.” And that was the last he said before he was leaving the scene, followed by the other two of his pathetic friends.

You took a deep breath, soon remembering the group of boys that had been targeted by the bully, and turning your attention to them. The two boys that had fallen to the ground still sat there, surrounded by their three other friends, all staring up at you with wide eyes and some mouths hanging agape.

You walked over to pick up the glasses off of the grass, turning to hand them to the guy that had been wearing them initially.

“Here. They’re yours, right?” You spoke, motioning for him to take them from your outstretched hand.

“Holy shit.” Was all he muttered as he squinted up at you, his thick, curly and dark hair almost covering his eyes.

He then made a move to take the glasses and quickly put them on, eyes magnified to about double the size compared to before.

“Th-thank you.” One of the boys that were standing quickly said. He was very skinny and lean, brown, straight hair sitting atop his head. The other boy that was sitting on the ground was shorter in comparison to his friends, a fanny pack tight around his waist, skin tanned and hair dark brown. One of them was a little rounder than the others, having dirty blonde hair. And the last one was slightly taller than the rest, blondish brown hair curly over his head. To be honest, they all looked like a group of outcasts.

“Don’t thank me. If it wasn’t for the cops, I wouldn’t have helped you.” You bluntly stated, not necessarily feeling the need to act like you were heroic in any way, since you really weren’t.

“But you s-s-still did help. Even though you d-didn’t have to.” The boy spoke again, making you realize that he had an obvious stutter.

“Don’t worry about it.” You stated, starting to walk away, remembering you were meeting Beverly and her other group of friends soon. Not feeling the need to say goodbye, you simply hopped on your bike and started riding away, finally calming down from the encounter.

“Where the fuck are you even taking me, Bev?” You questioned, following closely on Beverly’s tail as she led you up through the forest with an excited grin on her face.

“To meet the losers!” She exclaimed cheerfully. You rolled your eyes, although couldn’t help but let a smile break out on your face.

“I know that. It’s just, why are we in a forest? Are you guys some kinda satanic cult or something?”

Beverly chuckled at your words.

“We just like to be left alone, not bothered by all the other idiots in the world.” She explained, the excuse making more than enough sense for you. Maybe you would get along with these ‘losers’ after all.

Soon enough, Beverly announced a quick “almost there” and the trees around you lessened, opening up to a grave view from a high cliff looking down over a small lake.

“Welcome to the quarry.” Beverly said excitedly.

You noticed the group of boys standing nearer the edge, and as you came closer, your eyes widened by the surprise that the faces were familiar.

“Hey, guys.” The red-head beside you called out, grabbing the full attention of the boys further away, you suddenly stopping in your tracks.

A few seconds of silence proceeded as the boys’ eyes all fell on you.

“Hey, it’s you!” The one with a fanny pack exclaimed, eyes wide as he pointed at you.

Beverly’s eyebrows furrowed.

“You’ve met each other?” She questioned in confusion.

“It’s the short chick who saved my glasses!” The guy with darker, curly hair added.

“And more importantly, s-stood up to Bowers.” The boy with a stutter continued, still looking surprised.

Beverly turned to you, who were only standing there staring at the group in front of you.

“What? What did you not tell me, (Y/N)?” She asked, although seemingly growing excited at the unexpected event.

“Bowers was being a dick to us, per usual, and she just appeared out of nowhere like fucking Batman and pushed him over.” The one with glasses explained, all of the boys still staring at you, though agreeing with a subtle nod.

“And you were just not gonna tell me this?” Beverly raised her eyebrows at you, crossing her arms.

“I don’t know, it just didn’t seem like that big of a deal. It wasn’t like I punched him in the face, or anything.”

“Might as well have.” The shorter one spoke again.

The lean one with a stutter suddenly started walking up to you, stopping with the outstretch of his hand, motioning for you to shake it.

You carefully accepted his grip.

“Hi, I’m Bill Denbrough. B-Beverly has been tuh-talking about you a lot, and I hope we can b-b-be friends.” He stated, gently shaking your hand politely.

“I’m (Y/N) (L/N). I guess I hope so, too.” You responded.

“I’m Eddie Kaspbrak.” The one with the fanny pack announced. It looked like he was about to say something more, but was cut off by the guy with glasses.

“But you can call him Eddie Spaghetti.” He added with a smirk on his face, earning said boy to glare at him.

“Shut up, Richie!”

“And that childish one over there, with glasses, is Richie Tozier.” Beverly explained, smirk on her face as she shook her head.

“Yup, the one and only,” Richie spoke, proud smile on his face.

“Yeah, thank God there’s only one of you.” Eddie said, rolling his eyes at the boy next to him.

“I know, right?” Richie started. “Otherwise there would be no girls left for the rest of you.”

“I’m Ben Hanscom.” The slightly rounder one introduced himself, redirecting everyone’s attention away from Richie’s antics, followed by the last boy in the group.

“And I am Stanley Uris. Call me Stan.”

You managed a small smile as they had all introduced themselves, looking to Beverly in approval.

“Okay, well what are we waiting for?” Richie started again. “We have to find out if she has what it takes to join the club or not.” He announced, your eyebrows furrowing in response.

“Ugh, stop being an ass, Richie.” Stan groaned.

“What do you mean? Why else would we be meeting her here by the quarry.”

“I think she proved herself back there with the Henry situation, don’t you?” Ben pointed out.

“You can stop talking about me as if I’m not here, y’know?” You butted in, confused as to what they were talking about. “What do you mean ‘if I have what it takes’?”

“It’s stupid, and not nec-c-cessary.” Bill rolled his eyes, giving Richie a meaningful look.

“Oh, y’all are just a bunch of pussies. Bigger ones than Eddie’s mom’s.” He said with a grin, making Eddie hit him in the arm.

“What is he talking about?” You shook your head, looking to Beverly for help.

“Ah, he’s just talking about jumping off of the cliff into the lake. We kinda did that when we all became friends a few years ago. Don’t worry, we’re not gonna make you do it.” She explained, smiling as she did.

In all realness, it sounded dangerous. And scary. You were never big on the diving towers by swimming pools, and this was a whole other level in comparison.

“We were all gonna do it today.” Beverly continued. “But I can just walk down there with you and get in from there.”

You smiled at her, thankful that she was being so kind.

“Ha, sissies.” You heard Richie snicker, rolling you eyes in turn.

“Shut up, Richie.” Eddie exclaimed for the second time since you had arrived. You wondered how many times a day that was actually said in total.

Before you knew it, everyone started stripping, Beverly also pulling her dress over her head.

“Don’t worry,” She said. “Keep your clothes on if you want to.”

You looked down at your clothes, eyeing the jean-shorts and jacket.

“Nah, I’m not some prude.” You decided, trying not to notice how everyone’s gazes landed on you as you pulled your shorts off. You contemplated on keeping your t-shirt on, but decided against it since you had to wear it afterwards. And suddenly you were standing there, in only your undergarments, in front of five guys that you had only just met.

“Well, damn.” Richie voiced, making you look up at him as you awkwardly crossed your arms in front of you. “You definitely don’t look like a boy anymore.” He stated, smirk on his face, eyes shamelessly following your half-naked figure.

“Stop being such a perv.” Stan sighed.

“Oh, that’s just ‘cause you haven’t seen my dick yet.” You spoke, making everyone look at you with wide eyes, shocked at the joke you made.

Richie burst into a short fit of laughter, Beverly chuckling beside you.

“Okay fine, I’ll back off.” Richie gave in, still laughing slightly, also surprised at your similar sense of humor.

“Alright, let’s go.” Bill said, the boys walking to line up at the edge of the cliff.

“Okay, wanna head down?” Beverly asked, which you responded only with a nod.

You guys barely even got the chance to turn around before you were stopped by a voice once again.

“Well, shortie,” Richie started, making everyone sigh. You turned to look at him questioningly. “You may have a dick, but you obviously don’t have the balls.” He smirked, raising an eyebrow at you as if to challenge you.

“Beep beep, Richie.” Stan warned.

“What? I’m just saying."

“You really need to learn how to shut up, Trashmouth.” Eddie shook his head, staring down at the water.

All of the boys turned back to look down at the water below, all except Richie, who kept his challenging expression directed to you, before finally turning his head with a chuckle.

“Ignore him, he’s just provoking you. Let’s go.” Beverly rolled her eyes, starting to turn around.

Even though you knew she was right, there was a strong urge growing in your stomach, making you want to shut that Richie boy up just for a second or two. For some reason, you couldn’t help yourself as you started walking towards the boys, determination clouding the previous nerves you had felt about the whole ordeal.

They turned around in surprise, watching you take your place in the line, just at the edge of the cliff, right in the middle of Richie and Bill.

“(Y/N)?” Beverly called out.

“Shit, maybe she does have them.”

You turned to glare at Richie after he spoke, nerves suddenly shaking through your limbs as you realized the distance to the water.

“I’m scared shitless right now, and the only reason I’m doing this is because your mouth is way too big for your own good, Tozier.”

His smile only widened at that.

“I’m not surprised, pretty girls usually do whatever I want them to for me.”

You scoffed.

“I’m not doing this for you, dumb-ass, I’m doing it to shut you up.” You declared, once again inspecting the intimidating fall in front of you, sucking a shaky breath though your nostrils.

“I can hold your hand and jump with you, if you want.” Richie spoke, putting on a mockingly sweet voice, the rest of the group only watching in wonder at the scene that was being played out with you and Richie.

“In your fucking dreams. There’s no knowing where that hand has been.” You finished, hearing the rest of the boys chuckle quietly. Taking one last deep breath, you finally jumped off the cliff, yelling out “Fuck you, Tozier!” as you were free falling through the air, before you hit the water with a loud splash. You were overwhelmed with relief as you resurfaced in the water, not fighting the smile that dawned over your features.

“Well, shit, I thought she’d pussy out.” Richie stated, eyes glazed over in awe as he watched your form beneath them.

“I like her.” Eddie declared, Ben and Bill nodding in agreement.

“Told you she’s cool.” Beverly said, smiling down at you with a proud expression on her face, standing where you had stood only seconds prior, placing one hand each on Bill’s and Richie’s shoulders.

When the rest finally jumped in, you got comfortable with the group surprisingly quickly. Even if it seemed childish, being that you were all about fifteen, you still had tons of fun chicken fighting and playing tag in the water. You didn’t notice it then, but a particular fella with dark curly hair had already started finding it hard to keep himself from staring at you when you weren’t looking. Not that it meant anything, he only found you interesting.

Part 2?

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