#but some of what you boneheads are bitching about makes no sense

[sapphic-agent]

The ATLA fandom is interesting. There's been uproar about Katara's personality changing in the live-action... Besties, don't you think there's a reason why they did that? Maybe due to a certain influx of people bashing Katara every time she breathed in 2020? She was shamed repeatedly for being angry, outspoken, and confrontational. Not to mention how many of you defended her being a docile healer instead of a fighter in LOK (hell, some of you preferred Katara in LOK over Katara in ATLA, don't think I forgot). Why are we backtracking now?

(Yes the live-action could have done better with her. But they were probably trying to appease the people who whined in 2020, which they shouldn't have since this fandom would find something to rage about no matter what)

Istg, Renaissance fans and their performative activism. Again I say, the ATLA Renaissance sucked

#pro katara #katara defense squad #the live action isn't perfect #but some of what you boneheads are bitching about makes no sense #like complaining about aang flying #HE WASN'T FLYING HE WAS MANIPULATING THE AIR AROUND HIM WHICH HE'S DONE MULTIPLE TIMES IN THE SHOW #anti kataang #anti kataang shippers #tagging just in case #i don't need kataang fans here they give me a headache #anti atla renaissance #anti atla fandom #atla live action #anti bryke #they don't really have anything to do with this #but they piss me off too #and they're the ones who screwed katara over in lok in the first place #i'll take la katara over lok katara

[rubiehart]

can you write something for jj + pope having a crush/dating a kook! reader? headcanons maybe? :)

i think you meant them both separately having a crush on kook!reader like not both at the same time?? but if this isn’t what you’re looking for lmk and i can totally rewrite it!! also this came out way longer than expected, i got carried away…

JJ!

✧ contrary to popular belief, i feel like he wouldn’t come up to you right away, especially if you were the so called ‘kook princess’, he’d study you from afar at first, catching glimpses of you at a kegger or maybe on the marsh with your girls catching some sun in your skimpy little bikini.

✧ you’d catch his attention because you weren’t a complete bitch like a lot of the other kook girls he’d had encounters with for starters, but also because you were the complete opposite of the tom boy-ish girls from the cut.

✧ he wouldn’t mentioned his (not so) little crush on you to any of the other pogues because he knew exactly what they would say ‘she’s too good for you jj.’, knowing all about his promiscuity, but he wasn’t gonna give up so easily.

✧ you first talked to him at some kegger thrown for the start of summer, despite your good girl reputation you and jj managed to bounce off each others jokes pretty much all night, bantering like friends which was refreshing coming from a kook, he hadn’t expected you to be like this but he somehow liked you more because of it.

✧ this obviously confused the pogues. jj bagging the kook princess? no chance. you were polar opposites. when jj was questioned about it he just told john b ‘what can i say man, opposites attract.’ with a wink which made john b roll his eyes.

✧ you’d been talking for a while when you came to realise the talk about the ‘big bad pogue jj maybank’ wasn’t real, and he was a genuinely nice guy and you really did like him even though he wasn’t the kind of guy you’d usually go for, stuck up preppy assholes were more expected, you guessed. that’s why so many people questioned your close relationship with jj and why you’d bother with a pogue like him, which you’d answer with some more than impolite remark or hand gesture or a punch in the face, when some bitch spoke about the man you were forced to love in secret because of the split between kooks and pogues.

✧ after you started dating and the news was out to the island, the waters seemed to calm down and you could walk around the island together holding hands, truly in love without getting yelled at by some random boneheaded kook just for simply being together.

✧ when he’d spend the night at your house, he’d be surprised by the luxury you’d been given on a silver spoon all your life, not exactly envious per-se just more shocked you weren’t a brat about it, lounging on your comfy mattress that he seemed to welcome him perfectly, your warm skin pressed up to his own and just you. clouding his senses as he drifted off to sleep with a lil’ smile on his face.

✧ you’d wear his shirts to bed sometimes when he’d sleepover, seeing them practically engulfing you making him all warm and fuzzy inside, leaning to press a big sloppy kiss to your lips making you giggle and push him away, whining “jayjjjj!” he’d just wink and reply “y’know you love me pretty girl.”

POPE!

✧ pope is honestly such a sweetheart so i feel like he’d be introduced through friends, way too nervous to go up to you himself, eventually your friends would scatter leaving you both a little further down the beach huddled around the fire pit soaking in the little warmth the flickering flame gave out.

✧ he’d be stuttering over his words, trying to keep eye contact with you through the conversation but it was a challenge because you were easily the prettiest girl he’d ever seen.

✧ after talking for a little while you took a liking to him, inviting him to hangout at the beach the next night, deciding to set up a little beach picnic for the two of you, wanting to get to know him properly away from your tipsy conversation at the boneyard party the previous night.

✧ he’d gone home and told the pogues about the night you had planned, all giddy and smiling, john b slapping him on the shoulder with a prideful grin “that’s my boy.”

✧ he’d arrived at the beach, a lot quieter than usual especially when the sun was setting, seeing your white jeep in the parking lot, clearly empty and mad his way down to the shoreline, spotting you on a white and red checkered blanket, waving rapidly and giggling when you saw him smile and wave, shoving his hands into his pockets and making the rest of the way over to you.

✧ his body tensed up when he saw you wrapped up in a pretty yellow sundress, hugging your body in all the right places and your hair flowing freely down your back and splayed over your shoulders care-freely. “hey pope!” you smiled, getting up to engulf him in a hug, breathing in his musky scent and settling down onto the picnic blanket. he reciprocated the hug and pulled away looming into your eyes.

✧ “you uh, you look really pretty.” he stuttered out nervously, gesturing to your figure. you giggled and raised your eyebrows, eyes taking down his own body, “you clean up nice yourself, heyward.” you smile, which you see a faint blush grace his cheeks which you decide not to poke fun about, already sensing his nervousness, which honestly you found adorable.

✧ you continued in comfortable conversation about anything and everything, once he got comfortable enough he started telling you all about himself, his dad’s business, where he was planning to go to college and his goals for the future, he seemed to know what he wanted which was a total green flag, giggling at all of the jokes he’d make and adding in your own little stories every now and then.

✧ as the sun started dipping beneath the horizon casting a dark orange hue over the whole landscape, and most of the food was gone, excuse a few spilled grapes from trying to throw and catch them into each others mouths, giggling loudly when they missed and bounced of pope’s forehead, he turned to you, “i always thought you were the prettiest girl on the island.” your eyes met his at his sudden confession and you looked suprised, never been told something like that before, “really?” you whispered quietly, not quiet believing what he said.

✧ “really.” he said, feeling a spur of confidence seeing the starstruck look on your face and deciding it was now or never. “want me to prove it?” he whispered, leaning in to tuck a lock of hair behind you ear, you nodding dumbfoundly and swallowing, not believing this was really happening. he leaned in and your warm lips were connected passionately, tasting him on your tongue, and nothing else mattered.

#jj maybank blurbs #pope heyward blurbs #jj x kook reader ‹𝟹 #pope x kook reader ᡴꪫ #jj maybank #outer banks #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank smut #obx #jj maybank concepts #pope heyward #pope obx #john b obx #rafe obx #obx smut #obx x reader #obx imagine #obx fic #jj obx #obx fanfiction #obx cast #jj maybank prompt #jj maybank blurb #jj mayback imagine #jj x reader #jj maybank headcanon #pope heyward smut #rudy pankow #jonathan daviss #john b routledge

[angelhummel]

what would you do with the characters you don't like if you had power over glee? would you completely get rid of them, replace them or rewrite them to be something different?

I mean the mean part of me wants to say I would just scrap Brittany completely bc she didn't amount to anything in the end asjdfhlfsk BUT if I'm trying to be creative then no, that's too easy. With Brittany, there are two ways I could play it

1) She actually is quite clever but puts on the typical ditzy cheerleader act for funsies. To make sure Quinn knows she isn't a blonde rival threat lol. To mess with guys who think they can take advantage of her. Mostly for her own amusement, to see the looks on people's faces whenever she says something "dumb". But she drops the act midway thru s2 (when they quit the cheerios) and we get to see her for who she really is. Sharp and blunt at the same time, with a sardonic and dry wit that sometimes goes over people's heads. But she's dropped the dumbass act to be a lil smart ass

"How do you know my dim-witted inexperience isn't merely a subtle form of manipulation used to lower people's expectations thereby enhancing my ability to effectively maneuver within any given situation?"

2) She is kind of a ditz but she actually has the emotional intelligence that people claim she has. But the good "Go back in there and be there for Kurt", "family is a place where everyone loves you no matter what" kind, not the "you have to actually eat the chocolate bar or it will melt and look like you have poop in your hand". Basically Brittany talking about poop or toilets or anything in that same vein is strictly forbidden. She's not great in school, makes C's and D's in her main classes. But has creative electives like art, photography, creative writing, etc and does amazingly in those classes. She has her own unique way of looking at things and offers her own unique wisdom to help put things in perspective from time to time

Either way, she is never a complete fucking bonehead turned math genius bc that is fucking awful. And maybe you could even add in the actual autism angle bc like. Doesn't understand social cues, takes things too literally, etc. And either way she would graduate in s3 and get out of my face. So that's what I'd do with Brittany

Finn is easier but also harder bc this is such a gargantuan task and deviation from canon but. Have him actually be more like the person we're told he is. You TELL me he is this amazing uniter of cliques, kind hearted, perfect blend of a jock and show choir god, ushering the school into a new age of togetherness. You SHOW me he is a lil bitch who runs away from the club at the slightest difficulty, drops slurs and outs people on the reg, wants to be the leader without putting in the work, and is kind of a ball hog who actually sucks at football and isn't that great a singer. What's not clicking

Obviously Finn doesn't have to be perfect. He can have issues and uncertainties. But holy shit maybe have one issue once or twice. Doing this same bullshit half a dozen times and never learning a lesson makes me hate him!!!! Idk man just make him less of a fucking asshole

And don't fucking act like he ascended to sainthood when he died. I'm sorry but that bullshit about like "Finn wanted Sam in the club bc he was looking for someone to take over his legacy when he was gone" like shut the fuck up that actually sounds insane. Don't fucking do that. Finn is just a dude. Just make him be a kind of chill and cool dude with his heart in the right place but he slips up and makes mistakes bc he's still human. He doesn't use slurs or out anyone. He isn't constantly beating people up. He doesn't attack a sex worker, thanks. Maybe don't make him a serial cheater either, that would be nice

As for Sebastian, yeah, no, you can scrap him completely. He isn't interesting or fun and it actually drives me insane that he's the fifth most popular character on ao3. You can have your own preferences, you can like a little rich bitch bratty bad boy villain wannabe. But knowing that that many people are so far up his butt makes me wanna scream lol

Shelby, I would change her plotline by having her end up in jail. That would be a nice arc for her character

Will, I would change him by having him be a decent teacher. Broke: himbo Finn. Woke: himbo Will. He's kind and tries his best but he is shockingly dumb. Doesn't realize his wife isn't really pregnant for like five months?? The pieces are there. He sometimes lets himself be bulldozed in his own classroom but when other students talk, he listens. Takes their suggestions, actually shines a light on everyone, helps them improve and lets everyone have their moment in the spotlight. In the end everyone loves him and when he wins teacher of the year, it doesn't feel like a hollow bullshit contrivance

Sue. Either make her drop the villain shtick by about s3, or get rid of her entirely. Talk about going around in circles. I really think she was the worst of it. It got sooo old and boring and it was the same thing for six seasons. So have her be an ally to the club come s3, after her sister's funeral bc that makes sense. Or just write her off. Idc how

Don't ever let Rory set fucking foot on this show. Sorry to the actor but that character was partially responsible for why s3 went down the fucking shitter. He was terrible, and having to write plots about being Irish made early s3 a fucking joke

Oh and I would magically make it so that the viewers of the show have some common fucking sense. And if a character is being racist or a bigot or just a general cunt, there wouldn't be 2395890 compilation videos on youtube praising them for being brutally honest or sassy or hilarious or what have you. :) You know, if I had THAT kind of power

So yeah those are my thoughts. Took me a while to answer but I appreciate the ask!

#glee #long post #asks #answered #my thoughts #anonymous #anti brittany pierce #lol brittany pierce #anti finn hudson #lol finn hudson #anti sebastian smythe #lol sebastian smythe #i think those are the only ones people actually like #for whatever reason #no one's out here for rory or shelby so they dont need anti tags #i assume #also that quote in regards to brittany is from scream 2 #from dewey deputity dewey boy

[danwhobrowses]

America, We Need to Talk

For some reason in these past years the concept of ‘Reason’ and ‘Sense’ has departed your country, I’ve hissed, I’ve simmered, I’ve hit my head against the wall hoping that in the end IN THE END the collective mass of the American People will open their eyes, stop making excuses and realise that for 4 years, America has not become ‘Great Again’ I’ve resisted the urge to unload many a time, but news that Donald Trump is to be nominated for a Nobel Peace Prize is just too much, because this is literal horseshit. For some part it feels like they’re only trying it just so Republicans can force a rhetoric as if Trump did a better job than Obama - who won in 2009 for easing religious tensions, preventing Nuclear Weapons distribution and profiting, working towards fixing climate change and assisting with the UN - as people die of COVID, cities burn and violence against peaceful protests continue to ravage your country.

I have to say that again, Ravage, because I feel as though some people are blind to the matter at hand. Donald Trump will say something and his cult of followers will believe it, when someone disagrees and presents evidence it’s deemed irrelevant or forged, if a Democrat says something on the contrary they need a full powerpoint presentation to prove it, somehow this mentality has poisoned the American society when the louder people will say something in confidence only for the rest of the world to read and think it’s one of the dumbest shit they’ve ever read. This isn’t just coming from a Brit, this is coming from family in Chicago, a co-worker who moved out of America and worked in the army, Italians, Greeks and someone who was in Hong Kong during the riots. The people who believe in Democracy, Majority Vote, Free Healthcare, Fair Wage, Equal Rights AND international peace that doesn’t look towards World War Fucking Three look at your country in shame because the state of your leadership and how it’s been allowed to continue with ridiculously boneheaded and stubborn reluctance to see the truth. So let’s start with the boiling point shall we, a Nobel Peace Prize Nomination? Have you learned anything from the last year? Or has the far-right got the prize so by the balls that this nomination is used as a cheap add-on to coincidentally peacock the Trump administration in its build to an election. The nomination to Trump has been cited to be in favour of the following things; Israel-UAE relations (aka ‘Saving the Middle East), Serbia-Kosovo deal (aka ‘Saving the ‘Middle East’’), Inter-Korea relations and likely the support of Jerusalem and Hong Kong, and in face value that may sway the common person who knows nothing about these deals. But a simple amount of research cuts most of these at the legs. Let’s talk Serbia and Kosovo, since it’ll directly involve Israel, relations were tense but they have not been at war, they are peacefully not talking to each other. The media will have you think that Peace has been brokered by Trump only in this but in reality Serbia still refuses to recognize Kosovo’s independence, the tensions are still there you can just travel there now. This is an agreement that’s been build up since the economic and trade agreement in 2013. If that year isn’t surprising you that is 3 years before Trump was elected, when Barrack Obama was in office - Republican Public Enemy Hillary Clinton was at the forefront of that when she was Secretary of State. So no, Trump hasn’t saved the Middle East by this deal, mainly because Kosovo and Serbia are in Europe, they have been part of the EU for quite some time and the deal is already jeopardized since Serbia won’t build an embassy in Jerusalem if Israel recognize Kosovo as independent - which was part of the original deal. Also for all the Republicans’ use of ‘fear by Communism’ to slander their opponents they sure love to rub shoulders with countries also rubbing shoulders with Russia and China. So this segues into Israel-UAE, the Arab Nations have mainly been reluctant to recognize Israel as independent. On the 13th August a deal was struck called the Abraham agreement establishing Diplomatic Relations. Except, this was in the making since 2012 and only delayed to help progress Israeli-Palestine conflicts (which Trump’s actions with Israel led to Palestine cutting ties with the administration and his ‘Peace Plan’ falling apart 3 years after announcing it). UAE and Israel had been in conversation before Trump was signed in, but only made headway when the FDD - already funded by the UAE - took over. For 3 years USA did little for the relations, UAE and Israel doing it themselves, it’s only now do the US mediate a peace agreement, which meant that Trump didn’t really do much in terms of convincing both sides, he just made sure things didn’t get out of hand - which was never close to happening since there is little tensions. It was Kushner who requested the meeting and Mossad also had a huge part in it. Also I want to add that the US are only buddied with these two out of fear of Iran - you know, that country that Trump almost goaded into war in January after bombings and the death Assassination of General Soleimani who helped the US in the wake of 9/11 track and hunt down the Taliban, as well as fighting ISIS, how peaceful was that? The Middle East is still in Civil and Proxy Wars, no saving has been done there, the US just were there for Israel and UAE to confess that they’re friends. Which leads me to Korea. The Olympics helped more than Trump did, a shared effort where both countries had to travel and accommodate each other. Tensions may’ve eased in 2016 but they were far from resolved and in 2020 not much is better. Korea still antagonize one another and the North still antagonizes the US, any ‘peace’ the Trump Administration will claim to towards Korea faded quickly. And finally, Hong Kong, the US may be supportive and rightly so but this is again fear of Communism, it should’ve happened sooner but the US was hoping for that big and meaty trade deal with China. And this isn’t months I’m talking about it’s years, the proposal first took place after the Umbrella Movement...in 2014, it was annually brought up in Congress but postponed until the Senate decided to. And after Trump signed it he said he might veto it in favour of the China trade deal

“We have to stand with Hong Kong, but I'm also standing with President Xi: he's a friend of mine." - Donald Trump, November 2019

So really, this Nobel Peace Prize is the product and efforts of other people that set events in motion that Trump was there just to sign his name on. Meanwhile, in the country he is President of, the COVID Death toll has officially risen to 190 Thousand. 20% of COVID deaths are in the United States. Tear Gas/Pepper Spray - which is a recognized chemical weapon not allowed to be used in warfare - is used by Trump Supporters along with paintballs to attack peaceful protesters and Trump calls that peaceful because ‘Paint is not bullets’ - as someone who has been hit with Paintballs from safe range, they will hurt like a bitch and if you don’t wear protective gear they can do enough harm to crack and sometimes even break bone, the asthmatic co-worker I aforementioned that was in Hong Kong also notes that Tear Gas is awful, it may not kill you but it is far from peaceful. In the same breath Trump refuses to condemn a 16 year old carrying an AR and shooting someone in the head. He has also refused to condemn Epstein’s financier Ghislaine Maxwell and ‘hopes that she’s well’...the sex trafficker, but when you mention late Civil Rights leader John Lewis and his words are ‘can’t say one way or the other...he didn’t come to my inauguration’. This is your leader. The embodiment of the standards the country upholds itself to, it baffles me and many many others that the American People Chose a racist, bigoted, misogynistic, careless, self-important, naive, power-mad, severally-bankrupted, reality tv personality man-child, who is also intending to use US Taxpayers money to cover lawsuit fees against him alongside all his other golf trips. The man literally said that no other president has done more for Black People than he has, this is while he profusely condemned Kaepernick taking a knee to protest Police Brutality against Blacks and POC only for years later the world support it as BLM protests still happen because action has not been taken. We’ll also see what happens on the 14th regarding the Felony Hearing of the officers in Buffalo who pushed over Gugino and gave him a brain injury which he is still rehabilitating from after Trump tried to sell him as an Antifa member. Just in case you’re unaware, antifa stands for anti-fascist but Trump will paint that again in ‘Fear of Communism’. If you actually look up this stuff, the web of Trump’s lies unravel, and yet people just forget about. The man is a pro at gaslighting I’ll give him that, I mean leaking e-mails that condemned Clinton right at election time was some cutthroat stuff, but a man who needs to rely on preying on xenophobia, paranoia, fear, racism and invests mainly on smear tactics and dismantling, is not someone who can lead a country to prosperity, the amount of leeway this man gets from his supporters just hurts my head. So let me ask you America, truly, what is it that you want? Because it can’t be this, can it? Protests, Riots, people refusing to wear a simple face mask to limit the spread of a deadly virus because they think it’s a fake thing that the entire world decided to get in on with WHO just to spite Trump? Teenagers carrying guns? Refugees refused asylum and kept in cages? Do you want to keep spending your savings just to go to the doctors? or do you think that ‘Patriotism’ is blindly defending your country’s flaws and clinging to archaic and outdated thinking because centuries ago your country prospered in it? I’ll tell it to you straight: America is not the greatest country in the world, it hasn’t been for a long time. I don’t know what your history books tell you; that Native Americans were fine with slaughter, that the US won WW2 with the military might they always had, that Vietnam was a moral victory, but the present day should tell you that your country is a mess, and the man who has been at the helm for 4 years will not fix it in another 4. There’s only so much of Obama’s policies he can plagiarize as his own; he has left the UN, left the Paris Agreement for cleaner air and energy and all his original campaign members have been arrested, an alarming amount of people associated with him are facing criminal charges - is that not a red flag? Don’t let your thoughts that as a patriot you have to support your country no matter what, true patriotism is not just the love of your country but the hope and strive to better it because you can love it but accept that it has flaws. I mean even I’ll admit that the UK has a lot of its own shit to deal with, doesn’t mean I hate where I live I just know it can be better. If this were anyone else, hell if this were a Democrat the Republican party would be booking them a flight to the other side of the world with the stuff Trump has done and let to continue on with afterwards, through him you went from the United States to an Absolute State and the rest of the world wonder if this will either lead to World War 3 or a Second American Civil War You don’t have to like Joe Biden, but he clearly looks like the lesser of the two evils here, and at least in 4 years time America under him won’t be on fire. If you still don’t like him someone new could be elected after, but right now you are on a downward spiral and need someone who can put you back into a stable place, that man is not Donald Trump. The man who wants to intercept mail-in voting and outcry its ‘risk’ of tampering when he himself voted by mail is not a truthful leader, the man who tried to cancel the World Health Organization when they simply asked to not call COVID a racist name that incited xenophobia after decrying cancel culture is not a moral leader, and the man who said that COVID would peter out and suggested injecting disinfectant into the lungs to combat it only to now suddenly buy out all the experimental treatment so that they can try and engineer a cure in time for the election campaign, is not a wise leader. All the stuff you see in these coming months is just an attempt to win your vote, for the most part it’ll be Trump stamping his name on something other people worked on for years and claiming that he did all the work. So make sure you actually check the truth of these things, research and fact-check yourself with valid, neutral sources. Take off the blinders, take a breath and actually see the full picture. And please, as well as not letting this man have the Nobel Peace Prize Don’t give this guy have a Second Term

#politics #political rant #let sense prevail for all our peace of mind

[gamerphantom]

Fun Byleth Headcanons That Will Be Disproven In Like A Week:

* There aren’t too many differences between M!Byleth and F!Byleth, personality-wise. Jeralt’s Mercenary group was pretty egalitarian, so they grew up more or less the same.

* That said, M!Byleth has a bad case of resting bitch face. It bothers him more than he’ll admit that he looks so unapproachable.

* F!Byleth, by comparison, had the nickname “Kitten” among the mercenaries. When asked about it, they said it was because she was cute as a button with the biggest eyes you ever saw, but she would claw your face off if you messed with her.

* (One of the students hears Alois call her than while talking to Jeralt during the first week they’re at the Monastery, and they start using it amongst themselves. Claude is the only one ballsy enough to use it in front of her, and he gets a week of detention for it. The rest stop shortly thereafter.)

* (Should she have allied with the Blue Lions, however, they switch to calling her the Lioness, which she rolls her eyes at but doesn’t object to.)

* They had a fraternal twin who died with their mother. They each wonder what their sibling would have been like, had they survived.

* Speaking of, they look just like their mother, and Jeralt says as much in his more maudlin moments. They both wish they had a picture of her to judge for themselves.

* Both Byleths learned how to sew and mend their own clothes. M!Byleth took to it very well, and got a reputation for being the best dressed among the mercenaries. He made the mistake of having an opinion in a conversation about some new Adrestian styles between Hilda and Lorenz and now they won’t stop talking to him about it.

* F!Byleth, while just as skilled as her counterpart, has a much more... eclectic sense of style. The students who are less skilled at mending quickly learn that while it’s okay to ask for her help with darning, it’s best to ask someone else about bigger projects less she do something inadvisable to their poor uniforms.

* The Byleths were absolutely weird horse kids. Whenever they went missing around camp, Jeralt could almost always find them petting and/or talking to the company’s horses.

* That said, they’re not the best riders. They’re not bad, they just don’t have any natural talent for it. All of their skill comes from sheer determination.

* (M!Byleth is glad for his RBF when he finds out that the Pegasuses won’t let him near them. He really wants to pet the flying ponies, but the last time he tried one of them attempted to brain him with their wings like an angry swan. He sulked about it for days, but only Jeralt could tell.)

* They enjoy fishing and find it peaceful. At the monastery, they sometimes like to take their grading out to the lake. It helps keep their will to live up when they read their students most boneheaded answers.

* They didn’t have many friends growing up. They were always traveling with their father’s mercenary company, so they rarely got to interact with people their own age. Instead they spent time training by themselves or following after the other mercenaries begging for lessons.

* Thanks to this, they are really good at fighting and really bad at socializing. The students and faculty members quickly learn that Byleth will just stare at you intently when you talk to them and not reply often, and learn to accept that they’re doing their best.

* They have supposedly secret fan clubs pop up within the first week or so of joining the school. They both wince when they find out but politely look away. They had awkward and inadvisable crushes on some of the older mercenaries and this is no different, right?

* While that may have been the initial reason behind the club’s founding, it quickly turns into “let’s try and replicate the Super Cool Moves Professor Byleth did during training” club and leads to several injuries and a thorough scolding by both Byleth and Manuela for recklessness. The students are much more cautious in the future, at least so far as they start using practice weapons and making sure someone trained in faith magic is present to take care of any egregious bruises.

* (Even after they start taking precautions, Felix gets a concussion trying to do a particularly dramatic spinning slash. The next day Sylvain decides to take one for the team and makes a pass as Byleth to distract them. Sylvain nearly winds up being the one with a concussion after Byleth sweetly takes him up on “private lessons with [his] lance”, but they don’t notice how out of it Felix is so the Blue Lions as a whole take it as a win.)

* For the most part, Byleth keeps to the edge of battle during exams. Their students are the ones being tested, after all, so it would be disingenuous to get into the thick of it. That said, if they ever feel like one of their students is in actual danger, they are brutal in their defense. F!Byleth in particular gets a reputation as a mama bear after she chokes a bandit to death for going after a badly wounded Bernadetta.

* (Choosing a side after the time skip breaks both of their hearts. They choose the house they led—of course they do—but all of those kids were theirs in one way or another. They’re violently ill after the first real battle they have against their other students, but after that they never breathe a word of their discomfort. Sometimes one of their allies will swear they hear crying coming from Byleth’s tent after a battle, but they never do it where anyone can see and deny it if asked.)

#fe #fe3h #fire emblem #fe16

[proxylynn]

Underfell: File Name not Edgy Enough #23

Chapter 23: Recompense

WARNING: I WANT NO RESPONSIBILITY OVER SPOILING THINGS FOR OTHERS. THAT BEING SAID, THIS IS HOW FILE NAME NOT FOUND WOULD FUNCTION IN THE AU OF UNDERFELL. BEFORE YOU READ THIS, UNLIKE THE NICE TIME OF UNDERTALE, THIS WORLD IS KILL OR BE KILLED. THIS STORY WILL BE GRAPHIC, GORY, USE SWEARS LIKE NOBODY'S BUSINESS, AND DEAL WITH SENSITIVE SUBJECT MATTERS. FOR EXAMPLE, THOSE OF YOU WHO HAVE READ THE FILE NAME RELOCATED SPOOF WILL KNOW HOW I PICTURE THIS VERSION OF LYNSIE COMING TO THE UNDERGROUND. IT IS NOT AN ACCIDENT. IT IS NOT BECAUSE OF SOMETHING DUMB. IT IS BECAUSE SHE CHOOSES TO END HER LIFE. SO TAKE THIS WITH A GRAIN OF SALT. I MADE IT BECAUSE I NEEDED TO LET SOME OF THIS EDGINESS OUT OF MYSELF. WHICH I GUESS MAKES UNDERFELL LYNSIE EVEN MORE TRUE TO WHO I REALLY AM. ANYWAY, ENJOY. ^_^

So after being a massive bitch and retreating to his "in case of bullshit, go here" place, Sans finds himself doing the one thing he'd been avoiding to do by drinking himself numb...Reflecting on his life. This place is hard to get to and not a known area one wouldn't think even was there. A small room with nothing more than a mere bench and lonesome echo flower to fill it's void. While there is a dock to this area, it doesn't get any use. He found this spot during a really bad night of heavy drinking. He had no idea how he got here, but since it's so hidden, he keeps it as a safe place. That used to be his lab. But Papyrus converted that into his torture room like an asshole.

A small reflective tin dully catches his eye from under his seat. A reminder of his last effort to try to do something nice and embodies his state at that time. An abandoned quiche. A psychologically damaged spinach egg pie. Tastes delicious, but it has some serious trust issues. He thought about throwing away the abandoned quiche. A tremor of shame runs through his body. He can't do it. He isn't ready for the responsibility. The quiche was left all alone...Like he is now.

No. No, he needed to not think like that. His loathing and negativity are what got him here in the first place. Well, that and pushing everyone away by being a massive fuck! His attitude made him say shit you never want to say to family. He then hides at the one person that would dare call him a friend's house. And then someone that should be his enemy wanted to help him yet he may have just seriously hurt them. Yeah. He had no excuse for this. It doesn't matter how he's had to drink or the lack of sleep. He made those choices. He has to live with them now. So with that being acknowledged...How was he to fix it all?

"argh! fuck my life!"

If anything, it was probably a safe bet to begin with the ones that would be willing to listen to him before kicking his bony ass. Taking a few moments to slap some sense into himself, he gets enough courage to teleport back to Grillby's bar.

Inside it's dark and shutdown. The result of his dumbassery. Snoring gets his attention and the memory of the sleeping flower comes to him. It's a dirty move, but having a minor hostage never hurt to prevent instant attacks. He collects the slumbering flora's pack and nervously approaches the door to Grillby's home. Nervousness has him staring at it for quite some time before his hand knocks on its own. The time before the door opens is painfully tense. Though not as painful as when it does open and Grillby, understandably, hurls the skeleton inside with anger. Causing the bonehead to crash into a few things.

"You have a lot of nerve for a skeleton."

The fire of Grillby crackles harshly. His body casting an immense glow due to the exposed nature of his shirtless torso. Probably he removed the clothing due to all the blood on it. Not wanting to point out something so awkward or wanting his marrow boiled, Sans quickly recovers and holds the pack up.

"ease off for a bit. ya don't want to burn her bro, do ya?"

Grillby glares.

"Dirt move, Sans. But well played."

No! That's not the way he meant.

"i'm not trying...*sigh* i just want ya to hear me out first. then you can do whatever it is ya want. just...let me say my peace. please?"

Grillby eyes him before seemingly relenting, lessening the strength of his flames.

"Fine. You can speak. But not to me. You beg her for mercy before I'll think about giving you any."

He figured as much. However, looking around showed little sign of her apart from a few stains on the floor.

"um...where is...?"

"Follow me."

Not like he was given much of choice when the fire elemental grabs his coat and drags him down the stairs. This was new territory for him. He'd never been down here before. Though it's not like he'll be able to memorize how many doors or which was what room. All he knows is that Grillby pulls him into one where the lights are dimmed and there's a bed. Forced inside, Grillby lets Sans go to walk over to the bed and nudge the one on it.

"Lynsie? Dear, wake up. Did you take the medicine I gave you?"

Some soft tired groans were her return to consciousness.

"*weak* I did...tasted bad."

"Do you need more water?"

"*weak* Please?"

He pets her head.

"Of course, dear."

He leers over his shoulder at the skeleton.

"You have a visitor."

"*weak* Visitor?"

"I can make him leave if you're not up for it?"

"*weak* I'm okay."

"Are you sure?"

She does something Sans couldn't see from behind Grillby but whatever it was it has the bartender stand up.

"I'll be back with your drink. Just stay awake, okay?"

"*weak* I'll try."

Grillby heads towards him and takes the pack from his shaking hands. How long was that happening?

"I won't be gone long. Don't make either of us regret this."

Grillby leaves and Sans hesitates to move.

"*weak* To be honest...I wasn't expecting you to show up so early, Sans."

This gets his head working again and he steps closer to see her.

"early? it's been like an hour or something since then."

"*weak* Really? Damn. My sense of time sucks even more than I thought."

She looked so tired. Like it was taking everything to be this awake. Her shoulder is bandaged and she's in a tank-top that probably belongs to Grillby. Thank god she was changed out of that outfit.

"kid..."

She pats the spot beside her.

"*weak* You look like you have a lot to say. Sit. Talk to me, friend."

Why did that feel so weird?

"why are ya doing this?"

She tilts her head softly.

"*weak* What?"

"you're still being nice to me. even after this. why? why aren't you mad at me? why won't act like a normal person and be upset when you should?!"

It was happening again. He was losing control of himself. He had to get a grip before...

"*weak* Cute."

She stunned him. Very easily too. And with very little effort. All it took was a dumb word and her hand lightly touching his.

"*weak* Please...Sit with me, silly bones."

For his sanity's sake, he prayed this was due to Grillby giving her pain killers. He gives in and sits.

"fine. ya got me."

"*weak* No I don't. I don't have the energy to hug you again."

He eyed her funny.

"how high are you?"

She giggles and he is pretty sure that's a maybe to her being a bit loopy.

"*weak* You said it wrong...It's 'hi, how are you'."

It takes him a moment to register that, but when it finally clicks, it becomes the most hilarious thing he's heard in ages.

"*laughter* oh my fucking god..."

"*weak* There we go. That's much better. I don't like seeing you sad. Your smile is so cute."

Wait, what did she say?

"*weak* Now that you're you again..."

She tries to scoot herself into a sitting position but can't get past a lounging pose.

"*weak* Why don't you tell me what's on your mind."

Her calm not pissed off attitude was both relieving and bugging him.

"seriously, why aren't ya tearing into me right now?"

"*weak* Easy...I can barely move, numskull."

The humor, while funny, wasn't helping.

"no. i mean it. you should be the one wanting to kick my ass. yet grillz is the one just waiting for you to say the word and burn me to ash."

She shakes her head.

"*weak* Sans, buddy, we've been over this. I don't want to hurt anyone. Especially you. Not over something so dumb."

"dumb? look at ya! you nearly die from blood loss and for what? because ya hugged me? don't let me get away with that!"

She looks at him funny.

"*weak* You want me to be mad at you over an accident?"

"yes! maybe? i don't know. just...do something than just automatically forgive me."

"*weak* You know, for a guy that shouted he wasn't my friend, you sure do care a lot about how I should feel about you right now."

That caught him off guard. Why did this bother him if he didn't care? This line of thought is broken by the entering of Grillby and his approach.

"All is well I hope."

For a guy made of fire, he can sound and be downright cold when the moment is right.

"*weak* Be nice."

"I am being nice. If I wasn't, he'd be dead right now."

She scoffs.

"*weak*And I thought women were over-reactive."

The barkeep comes over and glares at Sans while handing her the glass of water.

"*weak* Thank you, sweetie."

"Anytime, dear."

Their seemingly happy relationship made the skeleton uncomfortable. They were sweet, loving, and uncaring about anything that was done in the sight of others. Other than them being of warring sides, they were the definition of an odd couple by Underground standards. She drinks slowly as her eyes droop a bit.

"maybe i should come back later. you're not looking too good."

She grabs his sleeve with a quickness neither guy was expecting.

"*weak* Not yet. We still have things to say."

Sans wants to retreat but that feeling only pisses him off. He hated this. This cowardice. Didn't he come here to prove that he was done running from his problems?

"yeah...we do."

Grillby clears his throat to make his presence in the room still apparent.

"Is there anything else I can do for you, dear?"

She's quiet for a moment.

"*weak* Can you make sure my brother is okay? I need to speak with Sans...alone...please?"

"If you think I'll leave you alone with him..."

"*weak* Would you speak of hard to talk about stuff if others were around?"

"Well, no, but..."

"*weak* Then please..."

Grillby is visibly against this. Her persistent grip on the skeleton's sleeve wasn't helping either.

"*weak* Ten minutes. That's all I ask."

Grillby sneers and she stares hard at him. The intensely awkward standoff ends with him heading towards the exit.

"I'll be right outside this door."

"*weak* I know you will."

Grillby parts from them and she lets Sans go.

"well, that was uncomfortable."

"*weak* Yeah...So you wanna fuck?"

Before a reaction beyond blushing comes to Sans, the door flings open and slams into the wall, yet she laughs.

"*weak giggles* Wow...I knew you were hot under the collar, but I didn't think you'd be that ready to blow up."

He points threatening.

"Do not test me! I am not in the mood!"

"*weak* Heh...Love you too, sweetie."

The utterance of the L-word has the fuming fire-man burning up for different reasons. His hue shifts and he slowly backs away in a state of shock, shutting the door behind him.

"*weak* Adorable."

"you said the l word."

She looks at him funny.

"monsters don't use that word. not unless it's truly meant."

"*weak* What? Love? But monsters say it all the time for Level of Violence."

"that's different."

"*weak* Please, let's not waste time splitting hairs. We'll be at it for hours."

"fine. but don't mess with him like that."

"*weak* I wasn't trying to...*sigh* Fine."

He rubs the back of his skull.

"so...where to start...?"

"*weak* How about the easy one?"

He chuckles nervously for a moment.

"easy you say...heh...alright. i...i'm sorry. ya know i didn't mean to do all this crap."

She nods.

"*weak* Dude, I know. You've told me a lot that you're not into being hugged. And I knew you would probably wig out. But I needed you to stay and hear what I had to say. I wanted you to know that Pap isn't Pap without you. He misses his bro. A hard thing to imagine, yet true."

He shifts his gaze to the floor.

"i...i don't know if i can face him."

"*weak* Probably no point in asking...But what happened?"

He sighs heavily and rubs his face a few times.

"i wasn't in the best mood when it went down. some messed up stuff was going through my head. then pap comes over and starts his dumb shit. it got to me...and i snapped. he made that always good for a laugh remark that if i wasn't his brother he would've dusted my ass ages go and ya know what i said...can ya guess? i said do it. if i was that much of a fucking burden and if he hated me that much, then to just go ahead and kill me. that way i wouldn't have to deal with his shit anymore."

Her face is full of concern and for good reason. He's smiling. He's smiling and yet tears are trickling.

"ain't that fucked up? he's all i got and i told him to kill me so i wouldn't be with him anymore. how? how can he miss me after that?"

For once, she didn't have an answer to follow up with. So letting his emotions take hold, he keeps going.

"i mean...what am i to do? how can go to him and explain to him that it was a mistake? how can i take it back something like that?"

"*weak* You can't."

"then what do i do?"

She looks up at the ceiling.

"*weak* There isn't one simple fix for things like this. The answer mostly comes from the one you're trying to apologize to. Knowing them and how they are, you can get a scope on how to make amends. And if anyone knows Papyrus...It's you. So, what can you think of that will surprise him and make him feel better?"

That made him pause. She drinks while the room remains silent for a time.

"*weak* If I can make a small suggestion...Don't spend money. Making something yourself means so much more than store-bought."

"yeah, like that narrows it down."

"*weak* Whoa. You monsters really aren't used to the whole 'nice' thing. Well...most of you."

"like i've been telling ya...being nice or kind isn't normal down here."

"*weak* Publicly at least. Behind closed doors...?"

"depends on the monster. you've seen me and pap at home. we aren't nice there either."

"*weak* Hard to say really. I was there, yes. But seeing you guys as you truly are as if I wasn't? No clue."

"heh. hate to break it to ya, but it's basically the same."

"*weak* Then...There are good times when I'm not around."

Now he was the confused one.

"what?"

She shifts and makes herself sit up straight, her strength coming back.

"*weak* I remember a lot of beatings, that's true. But there were times when things were nice. Like when we'd sit down to watch TV and eat. We'd make a few dumb jokes and talk like...like good friends. I..."

She cuts herself off, getting his attention. A soft smile is on her face but her eyes look a little sad.

"kid?"

She fiddles with her hands.

"*weak* I'd be a terrible liar if I said I didn't miss that. Sure, Toriel acts the mom role and it feels good to play the daughter. But being around you guys...You don't play a part. You don't fake anything around me. And those moments, when we're not at each other's throats...It felt real. You know? Like, the rest of the world didn't matter and time was meaningless because it just felt so good. And..."

This time it was his hand on her's that made things stop. Before she can speak as to why the answer comes in the form of liquid landing on her arm. The realization of her own crying gets her to chuckle.

"*weak* Heh heh...I can't even remember the last time I wasn't crying. No wonder you hate me so much. Not only am I a human that can RESET and that troubles your life so much. But I'm a pathetic broken crybaby too. *sniffle*"

She doesn't wipe her tears away. She lets herself soak in her sadness. This sight...This sight he's seen so many times before. It mirrored himself. Each time a good ending happened only to wake up back in the Underground. Each time a bad ending happened and he died only to wake up alive again. Each time he failed to keep his brother safe and was allowed to live. Each time a piece of himself was taken away and it left him more hallow than the last. Now he could see it himself. And it wasn't something he liked.

"you're not pathetic..."

She looks at him.

"a crybaby? meh. who isn't when feeling so down? but pathetic? nah. that ain't you."

"*weak* Don't lie to make me feel better."

"i ain't lying. no one in this bitch ass hellhole has the balls to do what you do. you fall down here and find monsters. so what do ya do? you try to be friends. you refuse to fight. you refuse to gain power in pain. and you're brave enough to be yourself when my dumbass tells you to stop. you're more badass than you realize."

She gives him a small but indifferent smile.

"*weak* The attempt is nice. Thanks."

Something about her tone got to him. That falseness. It's a slippery slope and he could see her falling deeper into her darkness. That's when he did something they both didn't expect. He swallowed his pride and embraced her, making her flinch in puzzlement.

"*weak* S-Sans?"

"i don't hate you. sometimes i say things i don't mean. but that's 'cause i hate myself. don't be like me. take care of yourself, kid. 'cause someone really cares about you. don't do anything to lose that."

He hides his face in her neck and could feel her form tremble. The sniffling came back louder as the tears were being fought.

"*weak sob* Can...C-Can I...?"

He nods against her and she hesitantly puts her arms around him.

"*weak* T-Thank you."

He wasn't exactly sure what the reason for the thanks was. But if it helped her than he'd go along with it. It's not like this bugged him. Her hugs, while unwanted most times, always felt warm and caring. Something this world they live in severely lacked.

"no problem...friend."

Her arms tightened a little bit for a comforting squeeze and an old fuzzy memory of his mother began to come to his mind. However, the opening of the door took that away and Grillby's throat clearing made the pair let go. The appearance of a seemingly sentimental intimate moment didn't sit well with Grillby. His limit was reached.

"I think I've been rather generous with the time. Even gave you a bit extra. But now she should really get some rest."

Not wanting to press his luck any further, Sans takes this as his cue to skedaddle.

"thanks for listening to me, kid."

"*weak* Thank you for making me feel better."

"it's the least i can do. we boneheads gotta make sure we don't crack. right?"

"*weak* Heh...right. See you later, numskull. And think about what I said."

He nods, standing up and moving slowly towards Grillby.

"i'm gonna go, but i have something to say to you."

Grillby leers but listens.

"nothing i say can let you know just how much of a fuck-tard i feel like. and there's nothing i can do to even begin to repay you for everything you've ever done for me. but know this...i'm gonna try."

Grillby's expression lessens but doesn't change much. That being said, Sans teleports out and leaves the pair alone. His new mission now was to think of a way he was going to handle Papyrus.

[Meanwhile: Grillby's house]

I smile at Grillby as he sighs to himself.

"Don't say it. I already know."

"*weak* You don't have to act like you're mad at him. You know as well as I that he didn't mean to do this."

He comes over to me.

"As much as I find your kindness charming, you need to give it a limit. Sometimes you need to be assertive and not dismissive of things."

"*weak* This wasn't one of those times and you know it."

"I didn't say it was. I just want you to keep that in mind."

Something Sans said comes back to me.

"*weak* Grillz..."

"Hmmm?"

"*weak* Did I...Did I go too far saying the 'love' word earlier?"

He blushes and looks away. This makes me feel bad.

"*weak* I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

"I know what you meant. I just...wasn't expecting it is all."

I pout and open my arms to him.

"*weak* Hugs?"

He gives me a small warm smile and crawls onto the bed with me, moving to lay in my embrace.

"Like you even need to ask."

Warm. He's so very warm. It's nice. Gentle and soothing. So nice. I nuzzle into his flaming hair.

"Awww...Are you in a sweet mood?"

"*weak* For you? Always."

He shifts up against me, kissing his way up to my ear where he nibbles the lobe.

"I know you need to heal, but I'd be lying if I didn't say I'm tempted to have a little fun with you."

I smirk and nestle in against him.

"*weak* You have fun if you want. I'm just going to cuddle you, you snuggly heating pad. Just don't..."

"No worries. I won't cross any lines."

"*weak* I was gonna say don't let me sleep very long as Toriel expects me home by 9 pm."

"Oh."

"*weak giggles* Naughty flamer."

He takes his glasses off and puts them by my water.

"*weak* What are you doing?"

"Shhhhh...Rest now, dear. Everything is okay."

I look at him funny before his bite makes me moan.

"*weak* G-Grillby?"

He grins into my neck and starts sucking on the skin. This has me fidgeting and moaning more which only pleases him more.

"*weak* Grillby, please...I don't think I can get away with another hickey."

His fire crackles a groan, his hands grip my body, and his actions get more heated.

"*growl* Mine..."

Okay, that's new.

"*weak* Grillby?"

"*deep growl* Mine."

His tone doesn't sound so good.

"*weak* Are you okay?"

"*harsh growl* Mine!"

His sudden possessiveness makes me tremble. And soon what once started out as something playful turns into something I don't know how to handle.

"*weak* Grillby stop."

"*burning* Mine. You are mine. They know it. He knows it. You know it. So why? Why do you get so close to him and not me?!"

"*weak* That's not true."

"Don't lie to me!"

His heat flares. The smell of singed hair tickles my nose. He pulls back from me to glare at me with hate, confusion, and...pain?

"Why do you help him? Why do you let him get away with hurting you? Why do you let him touch you? Why would you allow all that if you didn't like him? Please...Tell me."

At this point, he's scaring me. This is a side I've never seen before. This must be him when threatened or jealous or...wait. Is he actually jealous?

"*weak* Are you...Are you worried I'm going to leave you?"

The anger in his eyes falters and I sigh.

"*weak* Sweetie, how did such a thought come to you? Sure, Sans is a dear friend and I let him get away with things because he needs someone to be patient with his problems. But that doesn't mean I like him more than you."

His intensity turns down.

"It doesn't?"

"*weak* No, silly."

I hold his face in my hands.

"*weak* If I liked him, then why am I with you?"

He sighs.

"Because you don't like him that way. And I'm being a dumbass."

"*weak* Why would I give you my first kiss if I liked Sans?"

He smiles a little.

"Because you care for me more."

"*weak* And if I liked Sans more than you, why would I..."

Die to turn back time and bring you back to me.

"*weak* Why would I share my soul with you?"

His eyes widen in a state of absolute dumbfoundedness.

"...What did you say?"

I can't fight the blush coming to me or the goofy smirk.

"*weak* You heard me. I know you don't have ears, but that's never stopped you from doing so before. Come to think of it, how do your glasses stay in place when you wear them? For that matter, you don't even have a nose. I have so many questions..."

He doesn't bother to answer anything. Instead, he smothers me in a smoldering hot kiss that burns my lips. When he finishes, he presses his forehead to mine in nuzzling affection and I snicker at his return to the guy I care for.

"Lynsie, dear, you make my soul burn."

I'm starting to think that's his way of saying 'I love you' without actually saying it. Such a dork.

"*weak* Love you too, Grillby."

He smiles and returns to holding me. We stay like this for a while. All snuggled in each other's arms. His warmth slowly undoing all the activity in my brain that's been keeping me awake. And in no time at all, I'm fast asleep.

He waited till her breathing became steady before moving off of her. She looked so peaceful like this. He was surprised he didn't blow it when he overheated like an idiot. Lucky for him she was not like the women down here. They wouldn't put up with something like that. Honestly, his behavior made him sick. Him, jealous of Sans. The idea was laughable. She cares for Grillby. She gave him her all. So why did he still feel weird? Why did he still feel uneasy about the San's closeness to her? He needed a drink.

[Sometime later in Snowdin Town]

Papyrus dragged his feet while heading home. The pride in his stride not there. Why get to an empty house with any sort of exertion? Just to sit in the dark with a hot meal that will grow cold from a lack of wanting to even bother. In all honesty, he hadn't eaten in a few days. His system pained with a need for nourishment but he just couldn't bring himself to feed. He hadn't even cooked anything. And the closer the house got, the more he dreaded opening the front door to a dead home. Though something caught his attention along the way. Grillby's bar was closed. An unusual sight knowing that it didn't close till much later at night. Did something happen? Was Sans involved? The blackout building did little to provide any clues and forced him to keep heading home. Yet again, something got his attention. Only this time it was the opposite of the last thing. There was light...coming from his home.

Two possibilities came to him as the cause of this light. One, some soon to be dead fucker made the mistake of breaking in. Or two, his brother was there. Hoping for the latter but still unsure of danger, Papyrus approached with caution. Taking note of anything as he came closer. Footprints? There were none. Broken glass? There was none. Tampering with the door? It was untouched. Carefully and quietly, he unlocked the door before slowly opening it to a surprise. A warm familiar scent made his mouth water and some low snores coming from the couch. Shutting the door with a soft touch not expected from him, he found him smaller older brother passed out with a paper in one hand a pen that seemed to escape the other.

While relieved to see him once more, Papyrus still felt the sting that came from his last interaction with Sans. Forgiveness would not come so easily. Still...The attempt is a good start. He reheated some food to be ready for his return and wrote something before falling asleep like the log that he is. Strange. He's never known Sans to write anything that wasn't something profoundly stupid. Probably nothing more than a list of jokes that will be used to piss him off later. Best be rid of such a thing before the other woke. So Papyrus grabbed the paper and gave it a look, to see just how bad the puns truly were. Yet...that's not what he found. Instead, it is a letter.

"pap, you know i ain't one to say shit like this out loud so i hope you can accept this because i honestly mean it. every single thing i've done has made me who i am today. i've done things, fucked up things. i've seen things and gone through hell. burning bridges in my wake all for one goal. the only thing i would take back is hurting the one reason my life has meaning. hurting you. you're my brother pap. the closet family i got. no matter how messed up i am, i have no right to take my crap out on you. i know i'm always the best bro. i piss you off and make you look bad. but damn it, i try. not for the others. because fuck them! i don't need to apologize to them. i don't need to impress them or give a shit about they think. my life doesn't have anything to do with the rest of the world. i do it all for you, papyrus. so knowing that i've disappointed you...well...i'm disappointed in myself for making you put up with a schmuck like me. if i could go back in time, i'd do it all over the right way. maybe then i could be a brother you're proud of. a brother worthy of the great papyrus."

Many things have struck Papyrus. But none wounded him more than these words. Emotions began to swell in his chest. It compelled him to react before his mind came up with any thought. Without warning, he grabs his slumbering brother into his arms. Naturally, this spooks the sleeping skeleton to the point he nearly punches his brother until recognition kicks in. That's when the panic of attack turns to the panic of a different kind.

"uh...h-hey bro."

Papyrus didn't respond. This is worrisome.

"you okay?"

"DID YOU MEAN IT?"

Papyrus pulls away and points to the message.

"DID YOU REALLY MEAN EVERYTHING ON THIS?"

Sans rubs the back of his skull nervously.

"yeah."

Anger comes to Papyrus and Sans braces for the worst, punishment for being weak.

"YOU IDIOT! WHAT MAKES YOU THINK..."

At this point, something in Sans's head blocks out Papyrus's shouting. A building feeling has his hearing ringing and something inside comes to a boiling point that can't take this shit any longer. He snaps.

"papyrus...will you stop being a prick for five minutes?"

"WHA...?"

"shut your yap and listen for once!"

Papyrus glares with his right socket slightly twitching.

"you have no idea what i do or what i've done and gone through for you. and i'm not talking about the human either. i got a list a mile long. day after day, i work my bony ass off and the only thing i want out of it...the only fucking thing...is an acknowledgment of approval. and not just from any schmo. no. i would expect it from the guy that i helped raise. the guy that looks down on me even though i'm older. but no! that's not what i get. i get looked on like trash. not good enough, you say! work harder, you say! hit harder, you say! make harder puzzles, you say! nothing i do is ever good enough for you, the great and terrible papyrus! mister fucking perfect right here and can do no wrong!"

Now Sans is standing lividly. Papyrus opens his mouth but doesn't get to say a word as Sans continues.

"oh, but you're always there. waiting right there when i've had enough to tear me down even further. why do i even try anymore?! i'll never be good enough for you! then again, why would you want me to be better? you look better by comparison if i'm a fuck up. yet you know the more fucked up part...i still have this sickly twisted hope that somehow, someday, we can go back to how we used to be and finally act like real brothers!"

The fire in Sans fizzles as his sockets moisten and Papyrus holds his arm sheepishly.

"but...i guess that's just a dumb dream. right? because if it was possible, it would've happened. i've tried everything already. so many times...so many resets...just trying to find the right answer...to make you proud of me."

Papyrus seems to remember how to talk.

"I AM PROUD OF YOU, SANS. I...I'M ONLY HARD ON YOU BECAUSE I'M TRYING TO MAKE YOU THE BEST THAT YOU CAN BE. I KNOW YOU CAN DO SO MUCH MORE. YOU HAVE AMAZING POTENTIAL FOR GREATNESS. YET WE BOTH KNOW THIS WORLD IS INSANELY TOUGH AND I DON'T WANT IT TO GET TO YOU. I...I JUST WANT TO TOUGHEN YOU UP SO THAT OTHERS WON'T MESS WITH YOU. AND NOT JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE MY BROTHER. YOUR POWER IN FIGHTING..."

"is that what you think? ya wanna talk about power...i can dust you, undyne, the king, and every other asshole in the underground with the same amount of energy it takes to snap my finger. you have no clue, no one does, just how powerful i am. i hold all this in because i don't want to be a fucking psychopath like everyone else in this hellhole! and you what all that does to me? i'm losing my god damn mind! with each passing day, i feel less and less like a real person anymore."

Sans begins trembling.

"i...i'm scared, pap. not of dying. that's happened so many times i'm numb to it by now. i'm scared that one day...i'll fucking snap. i'll have had enough and just start offing people. and the sad thing is, the one person i want to understand my pain is the one that's hurting me. even more pathetic part is that the human, the damn girl we all need dead and she knows it, is the shoulder i lean on to vent all this heavy shit to which she is just as messed up as i am. but maybe that's what i need. someone just as broken as me to not drive me into lashing out at everything. because that's what's gonna happen one day. i'm gonna wake up and just not care anymore. slaughtering all in my sight. even you. then i have to live with that. damn it, pap, you're my brother! my only brother! my only family! but you're hurting me and i don't want to hurt you back!"

"I...SANS, I..."

Papyrus reaches out for Sans. But Sans smacks his hand. Yet Papyrus grabs the smacking hand and Sans's left eye sparks in surprise due to all the emotional stress.

"I DIDN'T KNOW...I THOUGHT...I WAS JUST TRYING TO HELP...PREPARING YOU SO THAT YOU WOULDN'T GET HURT..."

Papyrus pulls Sans close and puts his free arm around his back.

"BUT I WAS WRONG. I'M SORRY, BROTHER."

Sans, overwhelmed, clings desperately to his brother and rattles his bones trying not to weep. This wasn't the lashing Sans was expecting when he returned home. But this was a fairly better outcome. They stay like this for some time. Papyrus lightly patting Sans's back in comfort and Sans slowly recovering from unloading so much at one time.

"YOU OKAY?"

"...i guess."

"ANYTHING I CAN DO TO MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER?"

"...actually...while i appreciate what you're doing, it just feels awkward."

"AGREED. I THINK SOMEWHERE ALONG THE WAY, WE FORGOT HOW TO DO THIS."

"so...baby steps then?"

"HOW SO?"

"we ease off each other but still, ya know...act normal."

"...VERY WELL."

Papyrus clears his throat and seamlessly reverts to being a douchebag.

"DON'T EVER THINK THESE STUPID THOUGHTS AGAIN. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?"

Sans knew this was what he wanted but his brain still had one dumb question left.

"but...don't i piss you off?"

It takes a moment for Papyrus to register his brother's question.

"OF COURSE YOU PISS ME OFF. EVERYTHING PISSES ME OFF. BUT THAT'S JUST HOW FAMILY IS. PISSING EACH OTHER OFF. BUT LESS THAN OTHER PEOPLE."

"what about all those times where you tell me if i wasn't your bro that you'd have killed me by now?"

"BECAUSE IF YOU WERE JUST SOME ASSHOLE THEN I WOULDN'T GIVE A SHIT! BUT YOU'RE MY BROTHER AND I DO."

"do...what?"

This flustered the terrible Papyrus. A rare and unexpected reaction. Though it made Sans more curious.

"pap?"

"YOU."

"huh?"

"I GIVE A SHIT ABOUT YOU, SANS! THERE! I SAID IT. ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?"

An almost wounded look comes to Sans from the amount of confused he is.

"YOU'RE A LAZY COWARDLY UNFUNNY BAG OF SOCKS, BUT DAMN IT ALL, YOU'RE MY BROTHER. YOU'RE ALL I HAVE AND I CARE ABOUT YOU."

Sans's eyes cast their gaze to the floor in shame.

"DO YOU EVEN UNDERSTAND WHAT YOU DID? HOW MUCH YOU HURT ME? LOOK AT ME, DAMN IT!"

The slight crack in Papyrus's demand made Sans look up. His sockets widening to the sight of his brother, the great and terrible Papyrus, softly tearing up. Guess this was Papyrus's turn to vent.

"p-papyrus..."

"DO YOU KNOW HOW PAINFUL THAT WAS? FOR YOU, OF ALL PEOPLE, TO TELL ME TO KILL YOU? MY OWN BROTHER. WHY NOT STAB A KNIFE IN MY CHEST? THE EFFECT WOULD'VE BEEN JUST AS EFFECTIVE."

"pap...i..."

His tears were falling freely at this point.

"AND THEN YOU WOULDN'T COME HOME. INSTEAD, YOU HID AWAY LIKE A FOOL. DID YOU NOT SEE ME AT ALL? DO YOU KNOW HOW OFTEN I JUST WANTED TO DRAG YOUR SORRY ASS OUT OF THERE?"

"w-why didn't you?"

"BECAUSE I WANTED YOU TO DO IT ON YOUR OWN! I WANTED YOU TO FACE ME LIKE A MAN AND OWN UP TO YOUR PROBLEM. I JUST DIDN'T THINK IT WOULD TAKE YOU SO LONG TO DO SO."

Now it was Sans's turn to shock his brother. Increasing his hug tally for the day greater as he clings to his sibling.

"i'm so sorry, pap. i...i was a huge bastard. can you ever forgive me?"

Papyrus slowly returns the hold.

"I FORGIVE YOU, SANS...CAN YOU FORGIVE ME?"

"of course, pap."

"OKAY THEN."

Papyrus then shoves Sans back onto the couch.

"IF YOU EVER DO SOMETHING SO MORONIC AGAIN, I'LL HURT YOU BACK TILL YOUR BONES ARE BLACK AND BLUE."

His tough words had less bite due to him wiping the tears away. Yet Sans took this as a good sign. Big bad bro was back to his normal self. Which meant things were good. At least he hoped as much. Papyrus made his way into the kitchen as Sans relaxed. Removing his jacket and shoes, feeling at home again.

"SANS! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?"

A sigh leaves him, a strange sense of familiarity in this that just feels right warms his bones as he gets up and strolls over to his confused brother who is eyeing a funny looking glass baking dish.

"yes?"

"WHAT AM I LOOKING AT?"

"oh, that?"

Sans smirks embarrassed.

"i wanted to treat ya to something as a surprise by cooking. and i know i've watched ya cook for so long, but i'll be damned if said i knew what the hell i was doing when it came to making lasagna. so...i made spaghetti."

Papyrus cocked his brow.

"IN THE OVEN?"

"i made it on the stove like normal. i'm not that slow. but i didn't know when you'd get here. so to keep it warm, i baked it on low."

Inquisitively, Papyrus gets a fork and strings himself a sample.

"HMMM..."

"i tried to make it like you used to. probably won't be as good as when you cook."

"DON'T FALL ON YOUR SWORD YET."

"sorry."

"SO FAR...IT LOOKS DECENT. NO NOODLE STIFFNESS AND THE SAUCE IS THICK BUT NOT TOO THICK."

Papyrus takes a deep whiff.

"NO SPICES USED?"

"i didn't want to screw it up by adding too much. 'cause once it's in there ya can't exactly take it back out."

A grunt of understanding was his reply before biting into the amount on his fork. Papyrus mulls the food for a bit and follows it with a long slow swallow.

"well? is it bad?"

There's a long pause.

"COMPARED TO MINE? THIS DOESN'T HOLD A CANDLE."

Sans's heart sinks.

"BUT..."

Oh?

"COMPARED TO EXAMPLES YOU HAVE MADE BEFORE? THIS...THIS IS DELICIOUS."

A strange warmth comes to Sans.

"r-really?"

Papyrus doesn't say a word. He merely makes himself a very large plate and doesn't wait to reach his seat in the living room to begin eating. Following his brother's lead, Sans too gets a plate full of food and joins him on the couch. The pasta brings a sense of nostalgia. Like a past moment softly being revisited again in each bite. Who knew something as basic as spaghetti could bring out such strong feelings?

"SO..."

Papyrus breaks the eating silence.

"I TAKE IT YOU SPOKE WITH THE HUMAN BEFORE COMING HERE."

Not so much a question than a statement. One that Sans rolls his shoulders at.

"yeah. kid said she saw ya earlier."

Papyrus pauses for a slight second before continuing to eat.

"she said that you missed me."

"THAT WOMAN TALKS TOO MUCH."

"but you did...right?"

"YOU KNOW I DID. WHY BOTHER ASKING ME WHAT YOU ALREADY KNOW?"

"no reason. i just like hearing you say it."

Papyrus scoffs.

"I SEE YOU'RE STILL AN ASS."

Sans merely snickers.

"SHE GETS TO YOU LIKE NO ONE ELSE, DOESN'T SHE?"

This ends Sans snickering.

"huh?"

Papyrus stops eating.

"THE HUMAN. SHE TOLD ME SHE WOULD SPEAK WITH YOU AND HERE YOU ARE. BACK HOME AFTER DAYS OF HIDING. EITHER SHE SAYS WHAT IS NEEDED TO BE SAID OR SHE HAS SOME WAY OF SWAYING YOU."

Sans ignored the latter implication.

"she just...she's a good kid is all."

Papyrus cocks a socket his brother's way.

"RIGHT...AND IT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THE TWO OF YOU BEING 'SECRET BUDDIES'."

He knew that was coming to bite him in the ass someday.

"it's not what you think."

"THEN WHAT IS IT? BECAUSE IT JUST SEEMS LIKE THE BOTH OF YOU ARE UNUSUALLY CLOSE. *GASP* DON'T TELL ME THAT SO-CALLED 'FRIEND' OF YOURS THAT LIKES SOMEONE THEY SHOULDN'T IS ACTUALLY YOU AND THE HUMAN!"

Sans nearly chokes on a forkful of noddles. His skull as red as the sauce and sockets painfully wide in shock.

"the fuck?! no! fuck no! i just said it's not what you think it is!"

"THEN BY ALL MEANS, DO ELABORATE."

"she's just..."

"YES?"

"she's just...a nice kid. that's all."

"OH? AND THE OTHER HUMANS WEREN'T NICE ENOUGH FOR YOUR LIKING? IS THAT WHY YOU DEALT WITH THEM SO QUICKLY?"

"why are ya busting my hump on this? i thought we agreed to go easy on each other."

"I AM GOING EASY ON YOU. I'M NOT MAKING YOU TELL ME ANYTHING. OTHERWISE, I'D BE ASKING A HELL OF A LOT MORE."

"then i ain't saying shit."

"WHY ARE YOU BEING SO DEFENSIVE?"

"because i fucked up!"

There is a tense pause.

"all she wanted to do was help me like she always does. and my dumb ass nearly kills her."

Papyrus is intrigued to say the least.

"*SIGH* WHAT HAPPENED?"

Sans gulps down an obscenely large forkful of pasta to join the lump in his throat.

"she nearly bled out after i bit her."

Papyrus rubs the space between his eyes.

"WHY DID YOU BITE HER?"

"in my defense...i was annoyed, i told her to stop hugging me, and i didn't mean to sink my teeth in that deep."

That only made Papyrus more confused.

"SHE WAS HUGGING YOU?"

"*sigh* i was gonna leave before hearing her out and she grabbed me so i couldn't."

"THAT...MAKES SENSE I GUESS. DID YOU...?"

"i already apologized. if you can imagine..."

"SHE FORGAVE YOU WITH NO EFFORT."

"yep."

"SHE TRULY IS AN ODD ONE."

"true that."

A few slurps are made.

"...not like it's a bad thing."

Papyrus shrugs.

"I SUPPOSE...SOMETIMES...WHEN SHE'S NOT BEING A CUNT."

Sans chuckles and they continue to eat. This tranquil normalcy, it made Sans think about what the human said. How these small moments make things feel better even when the world is a ruined hell.

"*weak* Then...There are good times when I'm not around. I remember a lot of beatings, that's true. But there were times when things were nice. Like when we'd sit down to watch TV and eat. We'd make a few dumb jokes and talk like...like good friends. I'd be a terrible liar if I said I didn't miss that. And those moments, when we're not at each other's throats...It felt real. You know? Like, the rest of the world didn't matter and time was meaningless because it just felt so good."

Yeah. These little moments were the windows into a peace that needed to be peered in more often. This was something that they could get used to.

[Hours pass by]

"...wake up."

The voice is soft and wispy.

"...you hear me?"

Warmth nudges my shoulder.

"...cat?"

Cat? Oh...heh...Pussycat. It must be time to go. Thanks, Grillby.

"...fooling around. You don't want to keep..."

The yawn I let out muffles the rest of his speech as my eyes take their time to open and adjust.

"*groggy* Sorry, Grillz...Your bed is so comfy."

Grillby playfully ruffles my hair.

"Silly, pussycat. How are you feeling?"

I rub my eyes and sit up. Noticing he's in some more casual attire. Part of me is disappointed he's not still shirtless. Mmmmmm...topless Grillby.

"Naps are amazing. I feel much better."

"Good. It's getting to be that time you told me to wake you."

"Has Flowey woke up too?"

He shakes his head.

"Your brother is even more of a lightweight than you."

"He is a flower. It's not like he has a system made for dealing with booze."

He helps me out of his bed and motions to the end of the bed where the clothes I came here in now lay.

"We can't have your mother seeing you come home like this."

"Yet the second hickey was a good idea?"

His flames flicker a moment in nervous embarrassment.

"Yeah...Not my brightest move."

"No worries. I forgive you, hot stuff."

"You do?"

"Sure. You were a little upset and got a bit carried away. I'm not gonna hold it against you..."

I surprise him with a hug.

"Not when I can hold you against me."

He smirks and snakes his arms around me.

"My, someone's being affectionate. Not sure if it's because of the blood loss, meds, or you actually find me genuinely worth it."

I nuzzle his shoulder.

"Kindness given gains kindness in return. You've been good to me, Grillby. Why wouldn't I be affectionate to a warm soul such as yourself?"

"*sigh* What did I ever do to deserve you?"

I have no words to answer him with. I simply lean into him with a soft kiss. He, on the other hand, decides to reciprocate by sending warmth throughout my system with an overly hot kiss and a grip that's strong but not like the possessive one from before. He breaks the kiss, leaving me stolen of breath.

"You know...There's still some free time before you need to get back home."

A sly smirk plays on his charming face.

"What say we have a little fun till time's up~?"

His hands knead a trail to my hips where they rub tender circles. The naughty flamer sees a rare opportunity and is willing to take it. However, I know how Toriel is and how she'd react if I'm late. Still, it's not like I don't see an opportunity myself. I wrap my arms around his neck and give him a sultry look.

"Fun huh? What kind of fun do you have in mind, hot stuff~?"

"Hmmm...I was thinking..."

He leans into my ear and nibbles the lob a bit.

"Maybe I can cross off a few more of those things you've never experienced..."

Knowing how sensitive my nape is, he moves his nibbling to there and I bite my lip to keep it together.

"Perhaps we kick this heat up a notch and make things a bit spicier...How do you feel about that?"

Even like this Grillby is patient soul. Though part of me is curious to test his limits and mine.

"I guess we could try. There is something I've never done that's pretty simple."

His eyes widen a bit.

"R-Really?"

"Yeah, and since I'm in the Underground, it's kinda a bit more thrilling."

I feel his fire intense.

"You...You're not just teasing me are you, pussycat?"

I shake my head.

"No tease."

A slight highlight in color touches his face to match the goofy excited look coming to him.

"A-And...um...W-What is it you'd like to try?"

"Well...promise not to laugh?"

"Dear, I'd never..."

"I want to hold hands as I walk home with you."

His mouth remains open as I stole his ability to speak. I see the gears of "what the fuck" turn behind his eyes so I try to explain in a not stupid way.

"I know, it's not what you wanted to hear. But...I dunno...You make me feel special. And as childish as it sounds, I've always just wanted to hold the hand of someone that cared for me. Plus, you escorting me home will give you major good guy points with mom."

I try to sell this with an embarrassed smile.

"But you don't have to if you don't want to. I understand that..."

He shuts me up with his laughter. This doesn't make me feel good for sharing and after a moment or two, he sees my dower expression then quickly attempts to fix this.

"No no, pussycat, I didn't mean...*sigh* I laughed because you're innocence never stops to amaze me. After our game earlier, this caught me off guard."

I rub my arm shyly.

"Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. I adore this about you. It's precious."

I fight weakly to stop the blush coming to me.

"Thanks."

He cups my chin and kisses my forehead.

"God, you're cute. Go get dressed. I'll be waiting with your brother."

My eyes light up.

"Wait...Does that mean...?"

He merely nods and my heart flutters with giddy delight. I collect my clothes and head for the bathroom to change. Ah to be back in my real clothing. Not to knock on the outfit Grillby got me because it fits like a glove and wasn't as messed up as it could've been, but nothing beats something you're used to wearing. The bandage on my shoulder slightly shows under the shirt collar, so I have to tear part of it though now it feels weird. I guess I'm dealing with it now. I leave the other garments in the bathroom and go to find Grillby, whose humming I follow out into the bar. He's donned his thick coat and coolly has my backpack over his shoulder, a casual smirk gracing him.

"Ready to go, pussycat?"

"Are you sure you wanna do this? I won't make you go into the cold."

A small chuckle leaves him.

"It's fine. Besides...If it starts to bother me I'll just have to hold you close."

"Cheeky boy."

He holds out his free hand.

"Milady, shall I walk you home?"

I smile and slide my hand into his.

"I would be honored, kind sir."

I open the door and he fakes a swoon.

"A lady opening the door for a man? You're definitely a keeper."

"Heh. Lovable dork."

And like that, we begin our stroll to the Ruins. Whether he knows it or not, I'm very grateful Grillby decided to walk with me. I know not how much more the Underground mimics the surface, but I'd rather not risk walking home alone at a late hour when a target is already marked on me labeled "free EXP, please kill me". The air is still and no snowfall. There is a faint feeling of hidden onlookers yet nothing makes a move.

"You know...I've never been out this far."

Grillby breaks the silence.

"Really? So you've never seen the guard posts?"

"Nope. Are they odd?"

"Most look vaguely like doghouses that you'd be sold lemonade at. But there are two exceptions."

"...The brothers?"

"Bingo."

"Care to give me any hints?"

"And spoil the surprise? I think not."

"Oh, now you're building up my curiosity."

"Trust me. You shall not be disappointed."

Indeed he is not. The dog guard posts are the same basic wooden house design and have a mean dog head decorating the top. But when I show him Papyrus's post...The look on his face is priceless at the sight of the dark metal and even has Gothic-styled torches that make it look very spooky.

"This...This is Papyrus's station?"

"I know right? So cool."

"Is that...a plaque?"

"Go on. Read it."

[YOU OBSERVE THE WELL-CRAFTED SENTRY STATION. WHO COULD HAVE BUILT THIS, YOU PONDER...I BET IT WAS THAT VERY FAMOUS ROYAL GUARDSMAN! TREMBLE WITH TERROR BEFORE IT'S GREATNESS!]

He's holding in so much laughter even though some of it is slipping out.

"Oh my god..."

"Best let it out now. You won't be laughing when you see Sans's."

The confusion gets to him a moment before taking another look at the structure and laughing. Seeing him like this is a relief. I don't like seeing him grumpy or jealous.

"*chuckling* Oh man...I needed that."

"The ego of the great and terrible Papyrus is always worth a giggle or two."

"And Sans's post isn't?"

"You'll see."

Our journey continues. Along the short way between Papyrus and Sans's stations, we encounter the Snowman who seemed to be taking a leisurely stroll of its own in the relative safety of the evening hours. See us, it waves "hi" as if nothing out of the norm is happening. I wave back at and resist any temptation to bust out a "Frosty the Snowman" tune but Grillby is baffled that the snowman is alive. I teasingly remind him that he's literally living fire and he becomes slightly bashful. So damn cute. We come upon Sans's station and, as I figured, Grillby's reaction is not of amusement...more like pity. Sans's post is made of wood like the dogs' stations are but it's open from so many places and lacks real fortification. There is no back to it or true sides, it's mostly a hollowed-out dresser with a beam on each corner connecting to the roof yet only just enough so that all the weight in front doesn't have it tipping backward.

"This is a joke, right?"

"If you ever wondered why he hated his job, this is a good starting point."

"It's got nothing. How do they expect the first line of defense to be ready if they're not even properly protected, and from the freaking snow no less?"

Is this really the same man? Earlier he was ready to kill Sans, now he's upset over how Sans is treated at work. And here I thought I was the emotional flip-flopper.

"It's not all bad. He's made it useful to his needs. Come here."

I guide him behind the station and here I show him Sans's stash. Mustard bottles kept chilled in the snow, car magazines, and assorted hotdog stuff.

"See? Not completely shit."

"...How do you know about this stuff?"

"When I first left the Ruins, Sans hid me from Papyrus so I wouldn't be killed on sight. Saved my butt."

He looks a little dejected.

"Sweetie?"

That snaps him out of it.

"You okay?"

"Oh...Yeah. Just got distracted by a random thought."

I pat his back.

"Want to see something else funny?"

Curiosity gets to him, so I lead him to the "gate" thing that Papyrus made and that Toriel made useless.

"What am I looking at?"

"This was once the bane of coming out here. To keep people, mainly humans, from getting to town and the rest of the Underground, Papyrus made a gate over this unbelievably deep pit. It was very effective due to the tight spacing making it very difficult and time-consuming to bother with squeezing through the bars. The option of the surrounding forest is also a hard choice due to the tress being so close together. However, the gate stood no chance against a mad goat woman with fire powers."

That has him snickering. We cross the bridge and at long last, we arrive at the door that keeps us apart.

"So...This is my place."

"Heh. Feels a little cheesy. You know? Walking a lady home."

"Good cheesy like nachos or bad cheesy like Limburger?"

He just smiles and pats my head.

"You are too cute somethings."

I giggle and there's a bang on the other side of the door, making Grillby jump. I sigh and knock on the door.

"Is that you, Nanny?"

"*muffled* Indeed, my child. Do you need help with the door?"

"Yes, please."

The door rumbles. Pushed outward and showing Toriel, who is delighted to see me and puzzled by Grillby being here.

"Oh...Hello there."

Grillby, who has been holding my hand this entire time, tightens his grip.

"Evening, Mrs. Dreemurr. I hope we are on time."

Toriel is blank for a moment, then she smiles.

"My, such a gentleman. Walking a young woman home. Perhaps good men still exist."

I so called it on her thinking this!

"Here, dear."

Grillby hands me my pack back and I kiss him quickly much to his cheeky surprise.

"Call me later, hot stuff?"

"Heh...Oh, you know it, pussycat."

We share a moment of contented gazing into each other's eyes till Toriel coughs.

"I have to go now."

"I know."

"Be careful on the way back."

He merely smiles, turns on his heel, and heads back the way to town with a cool wave.

"Come along, child."

"Yes, Nanny."

I follow her inside and upon the doors being shut, I take notice of the difference in temperature. Sure, I'm not in the cold anymore. But the warmth of home is nothing compared to Grillby's natural heat. My hand, the one that held his, feels cold and empty. I miss him. We've only just parted and I already long to be with him again.

"Child? Is everything alright?"

Toriel notices my distraction. I'm not about to tell her my feelings about him so I play normal.

"Yeah. Just some stuff on my mind."

"Anything you wish to speak about?"

I shake my head.

"Nah. It's nothing."

She pouts a bit.

"You care about him a lot, do you not?"

I say nothing.

"It is not shameful if you do. He appears to be a fine man. And he seems to have the same feelings."

"Mom, I really don't feel comfortable talking about my feelings."

"Why not? It is not as if feelings are a foreign concept to us monsters. We just do not express them so freely."

"It's just...*groan* I'm just..."

[RING-RING]

Of course, my phone goes off. Like some sort of contrived plot convenience. My heartbeat increases at the thought of it being Grillby, yet it is a very short-lived feeling. It's not his number. It's not even Blooky's. It's Mettaton. Fuck my life.

"Child?"

"No worries, mom. I'm gonna take this call and follow you. Only slower."

She nods and keeps walking. I answer the call and slowly follow.

"Long time no ring, Mettaton. What's up?"

I'm given amused robotic giggles.

"OH DARLING, IT HAS BEEN TOO LONG, HASN'T IT? SEEMS LIKE ONLY YESTERDAY WE WERE MAKING PLANS TO MEET."

"After you threatened to off a guy on TV in hopes I'd stop you."

"TRUE. HAD YOU NOT BEEN WATCHING, THAT WOULD'VE BACKFIRED ON ME AND THEN I'D HAVE ONE LESS SCUMBAG ON MY PAYROLL."

"Not to sound rude, but why are you calling? Surely it's not to get all cutesy. It's late and people should be eating before becoming mindless bed zombies that must feed on dreams to survive."

He's silent for a few seconds.

"...ARE YOU OKAY WITH LETTING ME TAKE THAT FOR A BOOK IDEA?"

"Sure. Whatever. Don't avoid answering the question."

"HARSH. I WASN'T AVOIDING ANYTHING. I WAS MERELY STRIKING UP CONVERSATION. YOU KNOW? BASIC INTERACTION AND ALL THAT JAZZ."

I pause in my following of Toriel to casually smack my head into a wall, feeling dumb for my attitude.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to come off as a cunt. It's been a long day and I have no right to take it out on you."

"OH? CARE TO SHARE?"

"I'd rather not."

"WOULD IT HAPPEN TO INVOLVE THOSE SKELETONS? OR THAT FIREY MAN THAT WALKED YOU HOME?"

Toriel must be rubbing off on me because my grip on the phone tightens harshly at hearing something I don't like.

"...You really need a better pastime than to watch me."

"BUT DARLING, YOU ARE SO INTERESTING."

"Please refrain from further viewing me like you're watching some cartoon character."

"BUT DO TELL...ARE YOU SLEEPING WITH THAT BURNING MAN?"

The crunching my phone is making is loud. It's at this point I've stopped following Toriel due to anger. And the pack holding Flowey is on the floor.

"Who the flying fuck do you think you are?!"

"I'M METTATON. AND YOU ARE CLEARLY NOT IN A PLAYFUL MOOD. SO YOU PROBABLY DIDN'T HAVE SEX. OTHERWISE, YOU'D BE LESS AGITATED."

"You have no right to just blurt out a personal question like that."

"ON THE CONTRARY. I THINK I SHOULD KNOW."

"Why?"

"BECAUSE I NEED TO KNOW IF I SHOULD KILL HIM OR NOT."

My rage simultaneously grows and dies.

"If you do anything to him..."

"AH, POOR DARLING. YOU ARE A UNIQUE FIND DOWN HERE. BUT THAT IS ALSO YOU'RE BIGGEST WEAKNESS. YOU CARE ABOUT THE SAFETY OF OTHERS."

"Don't mistake that as a weakness. For I'll pull terrible power from knowing of someone else's pain."

"OH I'M SURE YOU CAN."

"Don't play games with me!"

"YET GAMES ARE SO MUCH FUN. SPEAKING OF WHICH...I WANT TO PLAY A GAME WITH YOU, HUMAN."

I don't like this.

"THE GAME IS A SIMPLE ONE. ALL YOU MUST DO IS FOLLOW A SERIES OF INSTRUCTIONS. ANY ATTEMPT TO NOT PLAY OR DOING SOMETHING WRONG WILL RESULT IN A PENALTY. THE MORE PENALTIES YOU HAVE, THE WORSE PUNISHMENT WILL HAPPEN FOR SOMEONE YOU KNOW. AND I'M SURE YOU DON'T NEED CONVINCING ON A SOMEONE OF MY FAME BEING ABLE TO DO SUCH THINGS."

I growl.

"I'M SURE A SMART GIRL LIKE YOU CAN FOLLOW SIMPLE DIRECTIONS AND UNDERSTAND THAT PLAYING THE GAME WILL RESULT IN NO HARM BEING DONE. WITH THAT SAID...ARE YOU READY TO PLAY?"

My growling lessens.

"Fine. But make the game short. A smart guy like you knows the furry of a pissed off Toriel."

"Lynsie...?"

Speaking of which. She calls out into the echoing hall.

"Are you okay?"

I cover the phone.

"Yeah. The phone call is running longer than I thought. I'll be up there soon."

She doesn't respond and I assume she's going back to her own business, so I continue the call.

"See what I mean?"

"VERY WELL...THE GAME BEGINS. YOUR FIRST INSTRUCTION, LEAVE THE RUINS."

I pause.

"...You're going to get me in trouble for your own amusement, aren't you?"

"PLEASE STEP OUTSIDE OR YOU WILL BE GIVEN A PENALTY."

I grumble in annoyance but walk back to the door.

"You're lucky you said please."

I shove one of the doors with some shoulder effort and get hit with that frigid cold I hate so much. I poke my head outside before creeping out.

"GOOD GIRL."

"There's a camera right outside the door, isn't it?"

"MAYBE~...EITHER WAY, YOU'VE EARNED ONE POINT. COLLECT THREE AND WIN."

"Okay, thanks for making it short."

"I DO AIM TO PLEASE. NOW THEN...YOUR SECOND TASK, TAKE YOUR SHIRT OFF."

"Whoa, I am not doing that!"

"PLEASE, DON'T THINK THAT WAY. I'M A ROBOT. IT'S NOT LIKE IT DOES ANYTHING FOR ME TO SEE YOU TOPLESS."

I snicker.

"No, dingus, I meant I ain't taking my top off because it's fucking freezing. What the hell are you thinking, ghost-bot?"

I don't think I know what a flustered/embarrassed robot sounds like, but it's quite possibly the weird electronic sounds that are currently scrambling my eardrum.

"But, no. I refuse this task of yours."

He calms down.

"*AHEM* UH...LET'S SKIP THIS ONE. UM...NEW TASK, SPIN AROUND AND AROUND TILL YOU FALL DOWN."

"...Can I question why?"

"NO REASON. MOSTLY FOR SEEING HOW LONG YOU CAN."

"*sigh* Just promise not to record this."

I clutch the phone and feel dumb even before taking that first spin. My eyes keep sight to the ground so my mind won't lose itself too quickly. Though the fluid swirling around my brain is not making things feel as lucid as I know things are. I twirl, dip, nearly smack the door twice, but ultimately trip over a small stick that was hidden in the snow, and I smash into the magical frozen powder with a large poof. My eyes spin in my skull as the sound of digital laughter eventually is recognized by my senses. My strength in direction is a bit off, though I still drag my phone to my ear after first poking it into my eye.

"*dizzy* Did I do the thing?"

Fuck trying to make cognitive sentences while my brain is sloshing.

"*SNICKERING* YES, DARLING. YOU DID THE THING AND DID IT WELL. YOU HAVE TWO POINTS NOW."

"Yay!"

The most unenthusiastic yay ever.

"NOW, DARLING, YOU NEED ONLY DO ONE LAST THING TO WIN THE GAME. ARE YOU READY?"

"*dizzy* Okily dokily."

"GOOD...GOOD...ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS...DON'T LOOK BEHIND YOU."

If my mind wasn't so messed up, I wouldn't have fallen for such a dumb thing. But dumb dizzy me gets worried about if something is there because of random monster attack paranoia...So I end up turning to look back...and see douche cat holding a bat.

"Uh..."

He smirks and readies his bat.

"You should've listened to the rules."

Processing the incoming strike takes longer than I need to actually do anything. The crack against the side of my head has enough force to roll me over. I might have rolled more but I blacked out during that initial spin my neck did on impact.

[In Hotland, Laboratory]

Mettaton continues to watch the monitor, seeing Burgerpants snatch the discarded cellphone out of the snow and answer it.

"Hey, Boss."

"YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO BE THAT ROUGH. SHE WAS ALREADY DISORIENTED."

"Be happy I didn't get her in the face. Can I go now?"

"YOU KNOW THE DEAL. DELIVER THE PACKAGE AND YOU WILL BE PAID HANDSOMELY."

"*groan* Fine. What do want me to do about that bartender?"

"LEAVE HIM BE. HE ISN'T OF ANY IMPORTANCE. JUST DON'T LET HIM SEE YOU. I GET THE FEELING HE WON'T LET YOU GET AWAY WITH HER."

"No kidding. That reminds me...I'm getting an extra day-off for putting my ass on the line like this."

"IF YOU CAN BRING HER BACK AND SHE ISN'T DEAD OR BLOODY, I'LL GIVE YOU TWO."

"Score!"

Burgerpants pockets the phone, sheathes the bat on his belt, picks the human up and proceeds to flee the area before the Boss Monster within is any the wiser.

"So..."

Alphys slithers towards the pleased automaton.

"You finally did it. You went and 'collected' the human."

Mettaton shrugs.

"IT WAS SHOCKINGLY EASY TOO. I ALMOST FEEL BAD ABOUT IT."

"You probably could've just asked her over and save some of the trouble."

"TRUE. BUT THEN WHERE WOULD THE MOTIVATION BE?"

Alphys tilts her head.

"MY DEAR ALPHYS...FOR ALL THE STORIES YOU WATCH AND READ, YET YOU CAN'T SEE THE PLOT I'M WEAVING RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU."

"Don't patronize me, asshole."

"FINE. I'LL PUT IT AS SIMPLY AS I CAN. SURE, INVITING HER WOULD GET HER HERE BUT IT WOULDN'T MAKE HER PERFORM AS NEEDED. BUT NOW SHE HAS BEEN ATTACKED. ABDUCTED. AND WILL SOON WAKE IN AN UNKNOWN LOCATION. THE CONFUSION AND ANGER WILL DRIVE HER TO SEEK ME OUT, THE ONE THAT ORCHESTRATED THE INCIDENT. YET LITTLE DOES SHE KNOW THAT IT'S WHAT I WANT HER TO DO. I NEED HER TO PLAY THE PART OF THE WRONGED HUMAN SEEKING REVENGE. SHE WILL BE TESTED AND, OVER THE COURSE OF INTENSE TRIALS AND TRIBULATIONS, LEARN OF THE HARDSHIPS THAT HAVE LEAD UP TO THIS. ALONG THE WAY, WE SHALL MEET. FIRST AS ENEMIES. BUT OVER TIME, A BOND OF RESPECT WILL FORM. AND MAYBE...SOMETHING MORE. YET AT THE END, WE SHALL FIGHT, FOR IT IS THE WAY OF THINGS AND THE LAW MUST BE FOLLOWED. SHE WILL RESIST. I WILL 'UNWILLING' INSIST ON FIGHTING. OVER A LONG AND HEROING BATTLE, THE GRANDEST DISPLAY OF REMORSE WILL HAPPEN, ENDING THE FIGHT WITH EITHER A DISPLAY OF GRAND FRIENDSHIP OR A LOVE CONQUERS ALL TWIST. I'M NOT ENTIRELY SURE WHICH THE AUDIENCE WILL ENJOY MORE SO THAT PART IS AMBIGUOUS FOR NOW. WHAT DO YOU THINK?"

Alphys just stares at Mettaton, mouth agape in utter shock.

"ALPHYS?"

She resets her composure by adjusting her glasses.

"Usually your ideas aren't so well thought out. They tend to be glamourizing drama pulls that crash due to shitty writing and poor taste. But this? ...You've surprised me."

A flash of random pixels appear on his screen from disbelief.

"REALLY?"

Alphys turns and slithers off towards her private workroom.

"I look forward to this show of yours. Hope you don't disappoint."

Mettaton, for once, was at a loss for words. Alphys never was supportive of his ideas, at least, not lately anyway. This was the kind of confidence boost he needed. He was going to put on the show of a lifetime for all the Underground to see. But there were still loose ends that needed tying up. For this was merely stage one of his brilliant plan. Stage two will be somewhat more challenging. For one, he'll need to keep Toriel from going on a homicidal rampage. And two, a means to buy off the Snowdin guards. The second part is simple enough. The dogs don't give a shit. The skeletons however...those two might become a problem if they find any clues. Yet any good actor worth their soul knows how to plan and improvise on the fly. This was the part he was grateful for having a staff of underpaid teens that were desperate for any hope of something more, they'll do anything. With the click of a button, he enacts the next phase.

"ATTENTION, ALL YOU HAPPY HELPERS OF MINE. IT'S TIME FOR YOU TO SHINE. CLEAN UP BURGERPANTS'S MESS AND DO IT RIGHT. OR YOU CAN KISS THAT 5G INCREASE AND YOUR JOBS GOODBYE. THANK YOU!"

It's showtime.

#undertale #underfell #Anomaly #Lynsie #sans #papyrus #gaster #grillby #grandpa semi #flowey #chara #Asriel #asgore #toriel #frisk #napstablook #alphys #undyne #mettaton

[amnachil]

The College Society Chapter 3 Part 2

Did I skip a week ? Yes. Was it on purpose ? No. Will it happen again ? Maybe.

Sorry :s

Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey Monday January 21

He tried his best to stay calm. Why would he be mad ? It wasn't something important at all. And he had his cock in Amber's pussy right now. He couldn't be mad. Not before he came. Screw it. I'm mad. Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey stood up, enraged.

"What are you doing ?" asked the cheerleader's captain. "We ain't finished yet. You promised me ten orgasm in one go, I got only nine."

"It was before you ruined everything." he replied. "Stupid bitch."

"Don't be vulgar. It makes me hornier."

This fuckin' little scumbag. She dares. He decided to ignore her. He put his briefs and his pants.

"C'mon Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey." she begged with a sweet, touching tone. "I'm sorry if it piss you off, but it's done now."

"You gave to this shitty Theophile your bmw and three tickets for the incoming big musical festival ! I mean, why the fuck ?"

She lowered her eyes. I don't like this. At all.

"Some people think you might be... out of touch with the prey. Look, we all know it had always been easy for you to hunt. And maybe, just maybe you got a bit overconfident and lost some skills."

The Dean's grandson hesitated. Should he strangle her or just beat the shit out of her ? He slowly put his shirt. This asshole, after all the things he did for her.

"There are bets among the hunters." she confessed, a bit scared by his attitude. "Most of us think Theo will win this. But hey, you're still the best in bed. Girls, boys, trans, you're our favorite when it comes to sex."

"You gambled against me." he realised. "That's why you helped Theo. And that's why you're distracting me here. You little dirty toad. I'm not a gigolo you can call when you want."

"To my opinion ? You should withdraw and just enjoy your already well developped sex life. Your pathetic strategy is working too slowly. Did you kiss him once already ? Theo will have him in bed wednesday night, whatever you try."

It was enough. All those stupids jerks thought he wasn't able to win the hunt ? Let's have some fun.

"Who's organizing these bets ?" he asked.

"Obviously Steve. Who else ?"

He left without a response.

When he arrived at the music club, it was running late but they were still playing some dumbshit music. Most of them were off-key, and it sounded horrible. Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey waited outside until Steve noticed him. The conductor decided to make a break, and came closer.

"You want something ?"

"Hell yeah. I'm here to make a bet."

"A what ?"

"Don't make yourself dumber than you already are porker. Listen carefully jackass. I'm betting 1000$ that Theophile will just fail like the contemptible shit he is, and I'll catch the prey. Do you understand ?"

Steve blinked, shocked. Stupid pitiful bonehead. You wanted to bet, we're betting.

"Okay..." he eventually whispered. "But I can't tell you who already gambled and..."

"Don't bother cretin. I know them by heart. Theo himself, you of course, Amber, Sam from the Beta Omicron, and the professor Linda Webers, all against me. Archie gambled for me. Am I right ?"

The dumbass's eyes spoke for him. All the greedier and most sutpid hunters, except Archie. The clevers didn't gambled yet. They're too cautious. He was glad to know Summer did nothing yet. The girl might be useful soon to get rid of those hyenas.

Damian Nicholas Smith Carrey then headed straight to his apartment. At the moment, Theo probably had already invited Liam for the festival. And my baboon of a boyfriend said yes, for sure. But what about the third ticket ? Not for Laura, it wouldn't make sense... It's for Nicolas. The fatty roommate. Oh man, this greedy Theo, he wants both of them. The blond lad looked at his phone. Zack had called him twice this evening. He would talk to him later. First, the business. He dialled Nancy number and waited.

"Geek to best dick in the world, what's the matter ?" she answered almost immediately.

She had her own way to communicate. I like it anyway. My cock is one of my favourite subject.

"I need a ticket for the festival of wednesday. I know the sales are off but can you find one ?"

"Of course sir. Send dick pick or butt pick and you'll be fulfilled."

He quickly and gladly sent both. He was still a bit hard from Amber's session, Nancy would like it.

"Nice." she appreciated. "I'm adding those to my collection asap. Damn, now my ceiling is almost covered like my walls. I have too many screen of your body dude."

I wonder what would happen if someone entered her room. It wasn't his problem anyway.

"Okay... I found someone selling his ticket for 250$." she announced after a moment. "Let me see if I can do better. By the way, it seems your ass is getting rounder again."

"Yeah, I overindulged in pastries lately. Long story."

It wasn't much, but Nancy was good to notice small detail.

"Oh, there we are. A moron who wants a revenge against his girlfriend and... whatever, we don't care about the story. Ticket is bought sir. You owe me 100$, but you know how I am, you can pay in kind."

"So nice of you milady. Send the ticket and let's have some fun."

Liam Wednesday January 23

His shrink Ms. Hang and him were on their third session. They hadn't talked much during the previous one. Mostly because he wasn't inclined to. He came only because he liked the couch. And I'll have to go soon, because Nick, Theo and me are going at the festival. He intented to protect his friend, because he knew the ogre was up to something bad.

"Tell me Liam." spoke eventually Ms. Hang. "What are your favorites hobbies ?"

Sleep. Going to the gym. Sleep again. Talk with the unicorns. He didn't answer. (Now that he thought about it, there was another thing he liked lately : make blowout with Dami's bakes). (His boyfriend, even if they never really formalized the thing, was a damn good baker, and cook in general). (They had only three more date after the movie, and each time, Liam ended up stuffed like a turkey).

"You know silent is an answer ?" asked Ms. Hang. "It help me to understand you. And there is a piece of advice I can give you."

"What ?"

"You should act more like your father."

Liam feigned to sleep. I didn't hear, nanana. It was the worst advice he ever heard.

"I don't mean to do the bad things he did." she insisted. "But you sure could use some of his confidence. He's a successful millionaire, known and respected. And you are the complete opposite, a shy, dreamy young adult who flee from his problems. You can learn some stuff from him."

"It's not a good idea." he contradicted. "And I'm sorry, but I need to go."

"Of course. The session is over anyway. But think about it Liam."

He went back at his apartment as fast as possible. And he tried to not think about it at all. Be like his father ? Learn from him ? I'm pretty convinced he's with the forces of evil. I think he and the witch made an alliance to fight us. (By us, Liam meant mainly the unicorns who lived under his bed). Anyway, he changed for more causual clothes, sweatpants and pullover, and then joined Nick.

"I've a bad feeling about this." confessed this one. "I mean, why Theo invited both of us to a music festival ? Where's the catch ?"

Make you eat your content. Kidnap you. Eat you. The ogre probably planned this. But Liam would protect his friend.

"I don't know why I'm asking you. I'm guessing you didn't even realised you put your pullover backwards..."

Theo picked them up in a nice car, and they arrived five minute later. The festival took place in a vast shed and all around. Quickly, they got lost in the crowd. The junior led them towards the center, and bought them food. (Obviously he did). (Greasy, rich food). And they started to dance, and listen to some bands. Nothing seemed to happen, and Liam started to feel reassured. After all, maybe Theo was just nice ? At some point, Nick whispered to his roommate :

"You know, I'm supposed to lose weight but fuck, if Theo keep feeding me like this, I'm gonna burst."

Liam himself had to admit, he had eaten a lot too. (But far less than he could handle).

"Maybe we should go somewhere less noisy to rest a bit." suggested the chestnut lad.

He expected to put some distance between them and the ogre. If we have to run, bloated like we are, it'll be fun to watch. (He pictured to stuffed turkeys running, and it made him laugh). Anyway, they found themselves next to the toilet area.

"Good call buddy." congratulated Nick. "I'll be back."

He entered in one cabin. Liam waited a bit, looking at the crowd. There were spotlight of several colors. People were dancing with ardor. He glanced at what looked like fairies and human-butterfly. (It was a real thing).

"Baboon !"

The lad turned his head. He glimpsed Dami coming closer.

"Dude, I'm calling you for almost ten minutes now." he said once here. "Are you deaf ?"

"Maybe." conceded Liam. "Sometimes I become blind and I can't see. Sometimes I can't hear. I don't know why."

(In truth, it probably was because he just went out of touch with the real world). (Literally in fact).

Dami tried to say something, but suddenly, a girl grabbed him and kissed him with passion. She shouted :

"Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey, where have you been ?!"

And then she kissed him again. For a long, very long time. Liam watched them, a bit surprised. He didn't know how to react properly. She is... Dami tried to do something. His eyes were burning with a mix of anger and surprise.

"Let's finish what we started." continued the girl.

She tried to pull off the boy's pants, apparently ready to do... Liam couldn't stand it. He just ran. Even his slow brain could understand what it meant.

Barbara Thursday January 24

She closed a book with a sigh of relief. Military stuff could be so scary sometimes. But also very instructive. The conquest of power wasn't an easy path, but Barbara was confident. The queen of this college, this Summer, she wouldn't be a problem. Then, she would've to get rid of this abusive king, Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey. Not easy, but one thing after another.

"Can you give me the plate ?" asked Jessy. "I'm still hungry."

Yeah, of course she was. Back in highschool, Barbara had saw her grade fall into decadence. Several people became greedy fatties. Even now, she was still wondering if it was Raphaël's doing ? Did he have manipulated people in order to make all his rivals become worthless ? You can't be at the top when you're too fat. People judge you only by your look. A bit of chub was the sign of a weathly life, but too much was just a proof you ain't able to control yourself. If you're not the master of your body and your mind, you can't be the master of the other. Jessy just let herself go for two years now. She wasn't in the race anymore.

"So... are you seriously gonna meet the football team captain today ?" asked Jessy. "When did you became so important ?"

"Well, you know, it just happenned."

"And what about Colton ? You said you would arrange a date between us."

I said it, right. She had planned to find a cover for her since the very beginning of their relationship. When she had met Colton in 12th grade, she knew they weren't meant to be together. Unlike Raphaël, who she never truly understood, he was a simple-minded lad. Since then, she had been searching someone to replace her when the time would come. Because she didn't need him under her feet, and neither his sister, Leila.

"I'll go see him." she assured. "Don't worry, he'll like you."

"I know, everybody likes me."

In your dreams maybe. Barbara just smiled and then left. She had an important appointment after all.

She met Oliver Thompson, the football team's captain, in the library C. He was a man of culture as well as a athlete. He was famous in the university and the town, because his team had managed to go the the national each year since he was captain. That was why Barbara needed him in her side.

"Hi." she greeted and sat in front of him. "Nice to meet you."

"Same."

The lad was tall (187 cm or 6'2") and corpulent. A mix of fat and muscle very imposing. She honestly looked like a tiny little girl in comparison. I'm 151 cm (4'11") and weight around 44kg (97 pounds). Of course I can't impress people with my stature.

"You probably know that I'll be the next head of the student union." she smiled. "I'm gonna make some important change, and first of all, I want to support our most important clubs."

It was the weird thing about this college. Fraternities and sororities weren't as powerful as she thought. Many student didn't even joined them. But activities's clubs were the center of the power. If I control them, I control the university.

"It's nice." admitted Oliver. "Summer's giving us a considerable budget already, but more is always welcome. But sorry, I'm not sure you'll have the real power to do it, even as the head of the student."

"I know what you mean. It depend of the hunters right ?"

The hunters. The women and men who chased for power and sex. As far as I know, they rule the university. Summer is one of them. Damian Nicholas Smith-Carrey is one of them. I'm one of them.

"Exactly. Trust me, we all know the next general assembly is coming soon for the budget of the second semester. We all want our slice of the cake. But it's the community who prevails. The better hunter you are, the better are you chances."

"Even for me ?"

"Even for you. Maybe you think you'll be head of the student, but you'll have zero power if the community is with Summer. She's good ya know ? As long as the hunters respect her more than you, she still have the power."

Make sense. Barbara thanked the football player, and left, her head full of thought.

The petite blonde then attempted to her lessons. And this evening, she headed towards the pool. She had no interest at all for swimmers. They were only a few and in great majority useless. Especially this bastard, Liam. She hated him with her body and soul. To be honest, she only knew the story from Jessy, but it was enough. The chestnut brown lad had always been a bit weird. It wasn't surprising that he had tried to kill someone eventually. Anyway, she was here for Colton. Her ex-boyfriend had joined the swimming club when she had left him. A bit pathetic to my opinion, but whatever. She glanced him. Sadly, he was with this damn Liam. For a moment, she looked them do lenghts. They were both good. Colton was a bit shorter and thinner. More athletic. Liam was thicker, with a flat but slightly soft stomach. He had quite an ass, she noticed. What am I doing ? I'm not here to covet this dumb guy. Eventually, she decided to come closer.

"Colton." she hailed. "Can we talk ?"

The dark-haired lad glanced at her with a strange look. Next to him, Liam closed his eyes, maybe in order to disappear. But I can see you idiot.

"I won't be long." she assured. "I just want to introduce you to a friend of mine. I think you'll like her, and it could be good for you to be distracted. Why not next week ? I'm only worried for you, of course."

"Okay, I'm fine with it but only if I can bring a friend. Nick for example ?"

"Whoever you wants except Liam."

This latter pouted. Jessy doesn't need to see you. In fact, she might try to kill you if you two meet.

To be continued

Barbara’s pov help us to discover more about both Liam’s past and the hunter community... Where a war is starting. Will Theo surpass Dami ? Or maybe Liam will not fall for either of them. Right now, is main goal is to protect his fattened roommate anyway.

#the college society #cs #Damian Nicholas Smith Carrey #Liam #Barbara #weight gain #stuffing #Nick is fattened by Theo #Liam the hero is here #Barbara is ploting something bad #She hates Liam #Chapter 3 #Part 2

[conartisthaiji]

or, how Hazama figures out how to comfort Kurahashi.

For Assassination Classroom Femslash 2019! Day one: comfort/sweets

Fic week hosted by @assclass-conspiracies, check out their profile for more info :D

Fic under the cut as well! 

Kurahashi had run past her crying.

So.

That’s a predicament she’ll have to deal with.

There’s literally no way that she’s going to be successful.

Hazama is willing to admit that she really doesn’t know how to comfort people after all. And as it would seem, neither do her bonehead friends.

“Just give her some candy or something,” Yoshida tells her. “Girls love that shit.”

“Hugs,” Muramatsu suggests. “And bring her to my ramen place.”

“You just want business,” she accuses.

“Well, yeah.” Muramatsu shrugs. “But food is good, right?”

“You just gotta tell her that you care,” Terasaka advises. “It’s what all the movies say. Or do some grand romantic gesture. Like propose.”

That's such a bad idea, why is she talking to them again?

“You’re seventeen,” Itona says. He’s clearly the only one with any common sense, although Yoshida might be onto something with the candy. “Do not propose. But maybe a promise ring—”

“No proposing OR promising,” she snaps. “Will you knuckleheads take this seriously? This is Kurahashi we’re talking about.”

“I bet Kurahashi would love a grand romantic proposal,” Muramatsu says thoughtfully. “Hey, can I cater your wedding?”

Just like that, her boys lose all rationality.

“Would Hazama wear a dress?” Yoshida wonders. “I bet Kurahashi would, but the question is, could she get Hazama in one?”

“We’d invite the whole class, of course,” Itona says. “I wonder if Bitch-sensei or Karasuma can officiate weddings. Oh! We have to have it on the mountain.”

“I bet Hazama will cry,” Terasaka says. “She’d deny it, of course, but Nakamura and Karma would have photos, so we’d all know that Hazama cried at her wedding.

“We’re off-topic!” she shouts. “No one is getting married!”

Her dumb boys fall silent.

“We’re all single,” Muramatsu says finally. “We don’t know how to do this romantic stuff.”

“I thought Yoshida was dating Hara,” Hazama says.

“We’ve been dating for two days!” Yoshida exclaims. “I’m new to this!”

“You guys are absolutely useless,” she grumbles, and slouches in her chair. No more mining ideas from the boys. She’ll have to rely on her own intellect, and whatever sensible information the Internet will be able to provide her.

And Ristu, probably.

Either way, she’ll come up with something. She has to, after all: Kurahashi’s happiness depends on it.

“You need relationship advice?” Ritz asks, popping up on screen with a bright smile. “About how to comfort your girlfriend?”

“Go away, you nosy android,” Hazama says, without any real bite. Ritsu has a sixth sense, sometimes, for when her classmates aren’t feeling well. Maybe it’s their Internet search history that tips her off. Creepy, considering that she’s an AI, but…it is nice, she supposes.

“I just want to help my classmate,” Ritsu replies.

“I didn’t ask for your help,” Hazama snarks right back. On screen, Ristu seems to shrink back slightly. “You downloaded yourself onto my phone—which is creepy, by the way—and now take the liberty of popping up whenever it pleases you.”

“Sorry,” says Ritsu, fiddling with her hair and looking at her feet. “I just want to be helpful.”

Of course she did, which is exactly what Hazama needed right now. Great. Now she just feels like an asshole, for offending the AI.

“I’m just not good at the comforting business,” Hazama grumbles. "Look at me. I'm just gloomy and depressing."

Ritsu seems to perk up at her admission. “You're not that gloomy. But...Kurahashi has seemed rather upset lately. Sometimes I make sure to send her a cute puppy video. Just reach out to her and if she wants to talk, she’ll talk.”

“That easy?” Hazama asks.

Ritsu smiles. “Every human being is different. You need to figure out what Kurahashi would like, and how you can best help her.” She spins around on screen. “Koro-sensei told me that I should make sure to support my classmates as best I can, and that’s what I hope to do! And when it comes to comforting people, that’s what you should aim to do too!”

“You’re an AI,” Hazama points out, although it’s not malicious. She just needs to remind Ritsu that she’s not human.

Ritsu seems to be aware of Hazama’s reasonings, because she laughs (or maybe she’s been on her phone long enough to understand how Hazama works). “An assassin AI,” she replies. “One with enough information to support all my classmates. But just be there for her. Good luck, Hazama!”

And with a salute and a wink, Ritsu vanishes from the screen.

Hazama sighs. Listen to someone, offer them support, be physically present.

Maybe she will just grab some candy and give it to Kurahashi.

Why aren’t there any spider chocolates out there? She’s wasted her weekend and she’s meeting with Kurahashi this Thursday. At this rate, she’ll have to make chocolate.

Oh, no.

With a groan, she texts Hara. If anyone can help her, it'll be her.

“I think this is a really nice thing that you’re doing,” Hara tells her as she sets up the ingredients for chocolate.

Hazama cannot believe that she’s doing this.

“It’ll be sweet, and Kurahashi will appreciate it,” Hara continues. “Plus, this will be good to know for the future.” She winks at the end of the statement, and Hazama internally curses her existence. How anyone believes that Hara is the sweet mother figure is beyond her. That girl hides mischief and a sly mind behind sweet smiles and concern.

...okay, the concern probably is legitimate, but still. When will the assassins of 3-E realize that Hara is more mischievous than they realize? When will they realize that Hara has them hoodwinked?

“Since we don’t have molds, you’ll have to use piping tips,” Hara adds.

“You’re joking.” Hazama has never made chocolate in her entire life, no matter how often her mother pushed her into it. “I have no idea how to do that.”

Hara grins. “There’s a first for everything, isn’t there?”

“I hate you so damn much.”

“If you, the self-proclaimed Queen of Doom and Gloom, want to comfort your girlfriend…” Hara picks up a bowl. “Come on. Stop complaining, you asked me for help.”

“I am going to kill you,” Hazama tells her, but she groans and ties her hair back. “Fine. Tell me what to do.”

“Hey, Kurahashi,” Hazama says warily at their weekly cafe meeting. This is probably going to be terrible. How can she be expected to comfort someone? “How are you?”

“Good!” Kurahashi replies. She offers a smile. “How are you?”

Here is what Hazama notices:

1. smile doesn’t reach her eyes

2. eyes aren’t even that bright, and they seem far away

3. it’s the anniversary. none of her classmates like talking about it

4. her shoulders are drooping

5. she’s not eating much of her parfait.

“Bullshit,” Hazama replies. “You’re allowed to be upset.”

“Why should I be upset?” Kurahashi asks. “I’m on a date with my girlfriend. We’re eating parfaits.”

“It’s the anniversary of Koro-sensei’s death, you were crying the other day—don’t lie to me about that, I saw you—and while I’m all gloom and doom, you’re cheery and sweet, and it’s weirding me out.” She digs through her bag and slides a box of chocolate to Kurahashi. “It’s not. Not like. White Day or anything, but Hara helped me make them.” The words start tumbling out of her mouth, and she can’t stop them. “They’re spider-shaped. Do you know how hard it is to find spider-shaped molds? Bugs are your favorite and I’m really grateful for your help with Despair when she gave birth, you know, and I thought it would be fitting, since that’s probably the start of our friendship. And I don’t like seeing you sad because it’s weird. I’m supposed to be the sad one, not you. That’s not to say you’re not allowed to be unhappy,” she continues, because it’s true, Kurahashi is allowed to cry, she’s not supposed to be a happy robot the whole time. That’s Ritsu’s job. Where was she? Oh, yeah. “The point is, I was—well, worried.” She scowls and looks away.

“Hazama,” Kurahashi says softly. “You…I…”

Hazama looks up, and there’s tears leaking out of Kurahashi’s green eyes.

Hell. She made this worse, didn’t she?

“You’re so bad at this comforting business, you know?” Kurahashi says, wiping her eyes. “That was just bad!”

But there’s the tiniest smile on her face, underneath the tears.

“…yeah, I’m all doom and gloom, remember?” she tries. She slides out of her seat and into the seat next to Kurahashi. “Just don’t…don’t…it’s okay.”

Kurahashi wraps her arms around her. “Don’t ever change, Hazama. I really appreciate this. You’re bad at this, but it helped, you know.”

“Oh.” What do people say next? “It’s going to be okay,” she finally mumbles, even though she’s not totally sure if it will. “It’s going to be okay.”

“There’s just been a lot going on,” Kurahashi says, sniffing. “I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

“Okay,” Hazama says, and hesitantly runs her hand through Kurahashi’s hair. “Just. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here, okay?”

“Thank you,” Kurahashi whispers back. She rests her head on Hazama’s shoulder, and Hazama wraps her arm around Kurahashi.

So, she might not’ve been the best candidate for this whole comforting business.

But she thinks that she did a good job, all things considered.

#ak femslash week 2019 #assassination classroom #hazama/kurahashi #My writing

[toasttz]

From the Tabletop #1

In recent times, I've been trying to get more into one of my favorite hobbies: tabletop games. Primarily D&D (of course), Exalted, and Shadowrun. Actually, some friends and I have been running an Exalted game for over 2 years now (since 3rd edition dropped) and I wanted to share with the world some of our fun stories and "That Guy" moments we've had forced upon us as well. Going back to the very beginning, I was, unfortunately, "That Guy" of our initial 3rd Edition Exalts. I built a strong, competent battle-ready Solar Exalt built around the Righteous Devil martial arts which, for those who may not be familiar, is essentially flamethrower-fu. Her name was Sunset Shimmer (yes, I snuck an MLP joke into an Exalted game, and only one other player at the table was in on the gag). The biggest issue with Sunset was a general lack of direction of the character. She had a backstory but no real goal to speak of and it didn't help that meatspace conditions made my attention to her spotty at best. She was an active participant, and I had freakishly lucky rolls playing her, but she was just kind of boring. I really should remake her. It really didn't help that I was the "That Guy" of a party of "That Guys". Another in the group was Hrothgar, whose defining intimacy was Ultra-Violence. But another major intimacy was about what a nice guy this bloodthirsty faux-viking was. It made about as much sense in context as it sounds here. Not helped by not really having a backstory or a goal to speak of. Ditto for Drago, affectionately nicknamed "Ivan Drago", also lacked any characterization to speak of. He was the man of 1000 backstories, because he couldn't settle on one. Once from the 100 Kingdoms, then a peninsula, then an island, then about how much of a great pirate his grandfather was. The GM eventually demanded he put up or shut up, essentially fusing together all the ideas, mostly because we never brought it up again and never actually went to his homeland in that game, but would in later ones. Whereupon we set it on fire (more on that later). The only competent Exalt of the circle was Petral. Sol Invictus knows she tried. Essentially Samurai BatMan, complete with high levels of investigation (she never used) and murdering people (that she really should've left alive), the only really meaningful connection this circle managed was that Targon and Drago's players shipped Sunset and Petral, due to a moment where a badly-drunken Petral, while worshipping the porcelain god, was comforted by a sympathetic Sunset. I'll be honest, as I was a frequent truant at these games, I can't accurately account for the flow of the game, but it did lead to moments wherein I'd find myself saying things like "But last time we agreed to murder some nobles! Why are we 200 miles away from them now?!" or declaring that a large, squid-like creature was, in fact, an aquatic horse upon botching an intelligence check. Things at least became more consistent with our second round of characters. Unfortunately, it was consistently God-awful. We had a cult leader, Zen, who barely had any idea why an Exalt would have a cult. He also didn't know what it would take to run one, having a character with zero personality to speak (I frequently confuse him with the next character here because of this), and - quite frankly - acted extremely evil at times. He had terrible conditions for his cult, food was constantly scarce (not helped by our being in Malfaes for this entire game), and draconian laws oftentimes seen in actual real-world deathcults. Calling this character "incompetent" is kind of like calling the ocean "a bit wet". The second one, Targon... ho boy. His backstory pegged him as an arena gladiator, which is fine on its face. The problems cropped up after that, whereupon he was also a successful businessman (resources 5), owned a chain restaurant which he managed himself (despite claiming to have locations all over creation!), and demanded his demonic clients pay in artifacts of all things. Now, in Malfeas, this could work, as a single-location eccentric establishment that catered to the super-rich. But this is Targon. And he ran it like a Pondarosa Steakhouse, except less competent. He would spend 20-minute long scenes (real time), in how exactly he would cook and prepare food. This established a precedent wherein we realized this player just absolutely would not accept flaws of any kind of his character - not real flaws at any rate. Just the informed "type variety" - his words. And, yes, he always attempted to sound smarter than he actually is by speaking in a roundabout and obfuscatory manner. Next was Taiga, and Taiga was a great character. She became the team mascot, punch-monkey, and little sister all in one. There was literally no one who didn't like her, in terms of player characters, because she was cheerful and cute as a button. She won big in Hell's many arenas and even won herself a few Pokemo-- err-- I mean, pet beasties. Her main concern was patrolling the mean streets of Hell, forming her own police squad - the Justice Buddies. And last, but not least, was my new character, Master of the Eternal Golden Paradise, named from the Exalted Name Generator, in case that weren't obvious. Master was a shrewd businessman (resources 3 to start), who operated as a flashy, guild liaison with some business contacts that helped him ultimately build a theme park in Hell - Super Happy Fun Land. He sort-of adopted Taiga as a little sister, and would go on to help her undermine Zen's cult leadership status, whereupon they would form "Taiga-ism", a rather loose set of morals and ethics as Master devised ways of educating the unwashed masses to make them more productive members of the work force and economy. As I recall, the greatest among these religious prohibitions was against taxadermy - as Taiga kind of thought it was gross. To really drive his themes home, Master as decked out in heavy artifact weapon and armor - his weapon (a reskinned Great Goremaul) was an abicus named "SmithLocke & Keynes" and his armor was a heavy platemail named the "God-Dragon Plate" (or GDP). Among the bizarre things this team did included: Operation Eats & Poops, an attempt to save Zen's hopeless cult by fertilizing fields. This almost got derailed due to a severe drought, but Master had two harthstones that happened to solve the problem. (This itself became an issue later on, due to fukken Zen not signing the proper paperwork while taking up space in the Endless Desert. Master would then go on to petition Cecylene for use of the space, and did so with such an amazing bureacracy roll, that he, and I'm quoting my GM here, "Made the Endless Desert moist".) Zen then begged Taiga into assisting him in getting a magic book - not even getting into his begging for magical martial arts training he ultimately bitched out of (thereby humiliating Taiga in front of her master). This was kind of like trying to explain color to a blind person, because Zen's answer to Taiga's taking him to a book store, was to casually saunter up and begin asking for what amounts to black market wares in the middle of the day. The GM, God bless him, took pity on this faux-pas and Taiga was eventually able to get said book. Not that Zen put it to any meaningful use. Apparently, the 17 year old girl understood the black market better than the man in his 30s. The team would go on to battle many times in the arena, sans Master, who was on the sidelines betting on his comrades's success (when it was Taiga) or their failure (when it was Zen and Targon). Strangely enough, Master's bets were almost always right. At one point we even battled what was essentially a battlemech. The team managed to topple it despite even man-down at the time, and Master sealed it with a linguistics charm essentially reading "DON'T TOUCH. THIS MEANS YOU, ZEN." And the sin that I shall never be forgiven for was Master's casual investment in the entertainment/security measure known as the TaigaBot. These mechanical abominations were fully able to dance, sing, answer simple questions for guests and beat the shit out of anyone who attempted anything funny, be it stealing or attempting to couple with a TaigaBot. Endless innuendos were made, of course, and that's part of the reason I shan't be forgiven for this. Master briefly considered a ZenBot or a TargonBot, but we all know where that would've ended up. Those robots would've killed themselves somehow - likely out of shame for their source material. And the last bit, something Taiga's player really should've reconsidered, was during a battle atop a giant bird-behemoth (Master was absent from this fight), Taiga's Mouse of the Sun, a rather vicious fighter named Fluff Mousington, brandished an anti-warstrider rifle and leveled it on Zen, prompting her for an answer. Taiga relented (her player, less so) and admitted that they should save Zen, causing a battle against a gigantic eagle. In retrospect, probably should've just pulled the trigger. Remember everyone: backstory, intimacies, long-term goal. Not negotiable. So, join me next time as I discuss some D&D (and how I became a half-ork pop star) and a later Exalted campaign involving slutty pirates, a reincarnating old man knight (who happens to be a teenaged girl), and three boneheads no one likes. See you there.

#Tabletop RPG #RPG #Exalted #D&D #That Guy Story

[oddsnendsfanfics]

Working It Over

Genre: Fan Fiction (Suicide Squad) Pairing: Captain Boomerang/OFC Warnings: Language, Sexual Content Rating: NSFW Length:One-Shot Disclaimer: a strict work of fiction, I own nothing except the original characters and the plot line. In no way am I affiliated to any of it.

A/N: Goes along with  Working Woman Blues

"Happy Birthday!" Izzy cheered, popping open the cliche, tan trench coat, letting it slide to the floor revealing her naked body.

"The fuck? It ain't me birthday." Boomerang rubbed the tip of his nose. "Put yer clothes back on, woman."

"Excuse me?" Izzy blew a stray curl out of her face, hands on her hips she glared at the man before her. "Since when did you pass on sex?"

She had been sure it was his birthday, hell she had even bought the perfect Unicorn puking rainbows as a card. Whatever, his loss on the card.

"I've got things to do, yer wastin' time, Iz." He didn't bother to look back at the naked and fuming woman who stood in the middle of his warehouse. If he played the cold shoulder then the sex would be better off, anyway. "Now hand me a beer and grab that duffle bag."

Muttering something about how she'd like to shove his dead body into a duffle bag, Izzy bent – shakily on the sky scraper heels – and grabbed a, no doubt filthy, tank top off of the floor and slid it on over her naked form. The fridge was almost empty, which meant it would only be a matter of time before George showed up at her small studio apartment, looking for something to eat.

Picking up two cans of beer, she violently shook one, making sure to hand it to him after she had opened hers. Cursing when the foamy beer sprayed into his face, soaking the front of his shirt, George sneered in Izzy's direction. "Bitch,"

His large mitt effortlessly swiped the can from Izzy's hand, tipping the cold liquid to his mutton chop covered lips, draining and crunching the can with one squeeze. Leaning against a ragged and worn couch, Izzy licked her lips and narrowed her dark eyes into a glare, her head tilted to the side.

"Big night?" She asked trying to peek over his wide shoulders at the duffel bag, the one she was supposed to get, but had conveniently forgotten to pick up from the floor.

"Huh?" Boomerang grunted at the dark haired woman beside him. "Nah, nothing to worry yer pretty head about, Iz."

"George," Izzy stood straight, his tank top hanging from her small shoulders, "did you take that job from a Mr. Oshiro, by chance?"

The Captain's silence was all that Izzy needed to confirm an answer. That fucker!

Not even two full days ago, Izzy had picked up that job. It was an easy in and out, with a decent pay off, once the goods were unloaded by Mr. Oshiro's thugs. Knowing Boomerang, he had picked the loot, but wasn't going to be in much of a mood to meet at the designated spot and time. If he fucked this up, it was bound to leave a bad taste in many mouths, not to mention the damages it could do for Izzy's own career.

Being a skilled thief and a woman was already a difficult task, be damned if she were allowing this bonehead to ruin that.

"Who am I to turn down a good job?" George cleared his throat, rubbing his fingers over the priceless crystal that had been stashed in his bag. "The price was right and I need a new muffler for me bike."

"A muff...a muff...." Izzy began to laugh loudly. "A muffler? I needed rent and bills paid, and..."

"Tsk tsk." The Captain wagged a meaty finger in her face. "Stealing to pay yer bills? Be honest about it or don't do it at all, Iz."

Of course, she should have known. What did Captain Boomerang know about paying bills or rent? He'd found this place when he'd got a tip that the owner was off to prison – tax fraud – and he certainly wasn't into paying for the electricity that he was jacking from a nearby power bank. The one time Izzy heard him even mention legal taxes, he had been at her to get married. George had claimed they would get better benefits that way, it seemed perfect to him, until Izzy pointed out that he couldn't do taxes based on stolen property.

"I may be a thief, but unlike you Digger, there are still some morals that I uphold." Izzy straightened her posture, trying to appear taller and more imposing. Useless with her short stature, even in these heels, she barely reached his nose. "Now, are you going to meet and drop that off or are you going to get us both killed?"

Lazily pulling cigarette from the pocket of his worn out Captain jacket, Boomerang ran his tongue over his teeth, sucking in a sharp hiss of air. "You're getting on me last nerve, woman." He warned, pulling out a lighter.

"You're getting on me last nerve..." Izzy mocked in a high pitched tone, with a scoff.

"I mean it!" Boomerang growled, his blue eyes locking in on her. "I won't be held accountable, if you push me to it."

Laughing dryly, Izzy snorted in disbelief. His threats were empty, always the same, yet here she was. George wouldn't harm a hair on her head, not that he couldn't or because the repercussions were too great, but simply because if he were forced to hide her body, there would be nobody around to keep his warm when the cold winds shook his rundown warehouse. As long as she was willing and had tits, Izzy knew she was a safe bet.

"You've had a thousand chances, but you never bother."

"Women, not worth the trouble they bring." The Captain muttered and cursed, smashing his cigarette into the concrete floor with his duct taped boot. "Yer looking for it now, are ya, Iz?"

"What are you going to do? Hmm? You," She pushed forward from her perch, extending her reach to grasp the front of his blue polyester jacket, drawing him near. "Don't have the balls." Izzy gripped the front of his stained jeans, cupping and squeezing roughly.

Fighting a groan, Boomerang grabbed her upper arms, twisting her around with little effort. Izzy's small body spun, her back hitting his chest with a thud. Yelping from shock and arousal, Izzy suppressed a moan. The Captain held his arm around her shoulders, keeping her pinned to him, using the other to lift his tank top away from her bottom.

"You're gone and done it now, Iz." His voice was rough in her ear. "Go on, say it." He encouraged, his hand gripping her thigh, fuck, she'd have one hell of a bruise later.

"Say what?" She played dumb. The second he touched her, Boomerang would know what this had turned her on immensely. He would know that she was an orgasm waiting to happen, she would be at his mercy, and she prayed that he would play fair. "Hmm? That you're terrible at managing assets? You stole my job? That you're going to end up in a huge mess, if you don't...Ooh!" She squeaked in surprise.

A large finger extended from his larger, rougher hand, nestling between her slick bare folds. Just for him, she'd endured one of those stupid home wax kits, the things women did for a man on his birthday. Prick, she was certain that he'd mentioned it being his birthday today.

Two fat fingers, knuckle deep Boomerang chuckled at the woman grinding herself onto his hand, silently demanding more while trying to remain her composure. Izzy wouldn't take long before he wore her down, she was too easy.

"Well?" He prompted, his voice rumbling sending shivers through her.

"Well, W-what?" Izzy choked back a sob of pleasure.

She had came over here ready to fuck him three ways from Sunday, being mad at him over this job had heightened that arousal, the Captain was not being fair. Oh! She swallowed a lump in her throat, sitting harder on his hand, willing his fingers to go as far as they could. Boomerang curled his fingers, hitting all the right spots, his large thumb manhandling her clit.

So he didn't have the greatest finesse when it came to fingering a woman, right now that detail didn't matter.

"Are you going to say it? Beg me? Come on, Izzy, you know what you want. All you gotta do is ask ole' Boomer. Ask and I'll bend ya over, right here." George spoke, biting at her exposed shoulder and grunting at the way she writhed her ass against his junk.

"S-seems like y-you need it more than me." Izzy moaned spreading her legs a little wider, wanting more. Pumping his fingers faster, George stifled a groan when she reached back to grab his balls again. Damn this woman.

"Ya think so?" His blue eyes narrowed in a challenge.

Izzy nodded frantically, unable to form words around a moan. His thumb danced, roughly, on her clit assaulting her sense. Inside she could feel those damn sausage like fingers pounding away, no rhythm only a goal – getting her to the point of no return. All she could think about was that threat of being bent over and fucked. It wouldn't be the first time that Boomerang had bent Izzy over the work bench and took her on one hell of a ride.

"Y-yes." Izzy squeaked with a whimper.

Be damned, if Izzy was going to win this one. Clearing his throat, Boomerang stopped all actions. Slipping his fingers away, seconds before Izzy had reached her reward. Licking his lips, he took a step back, weak in the knees Izzy wobbled like a fawn, trying to gain her legs.

"Home ya go, then." Boomerang took a quick sniff of his coated fingers, shoving them in his pockets. Shame, she had shown up here without panties. He'd have to use what he could, when he took care of things later. Jerking off in an empty warehouse wasn't his idea of a good night, but he refused to let her win.

"What the fuck?" Izzy spat, her core aching for his fingers to come back.

"That's for leaving me tied to ya bed, gagging me and taking off. Ya damn harlot." George sucked his teeth in triumph. Remembering their last meeting, of a sexual nature, he was all about getting even. "Be glad I ain't tying ya here naked and blindfolded."

"You're a fucking monster." Izzy accused him with a deathly glare.

"Get yer coat and go home, Izzy." George laughed at her assumption. "It ain't worth slitting throats over, besides, I've got me some money to collect. Be a good girl, run along home, and next week we can celebrate me birthday."

#working it over #captain boomerang fanfiction #captain boomerang fanfic #captain boomerang #character fics #ofc #boomerang and izzy #fanfic #short story #smut #kinda #fanfiction

[heartmadeofbones]

Bones... Thank You!

Starting this text it’s probably one of the biggest challenges that I’ve ever faced. And I want to start by saying that the reason I didn’t wrote anything on my #ThankYouBones posts it’s because I was waiting for this day.

There are so many reasons to be grateful for this show and not enough words to describe them. Bones has been, without a doubt, my safe haven throughout the last 9 years, and saying goodbye seems… wrong.

For me, 9 years of losses, of wins, of learning…  and the only constant in my life during all of those changes, was Bones. Bones was there.

Many of you already heard my story, and probably some of you are sick of it, but the reason I repeat it so many times, it’s because it reminds me of how Bones saved me, in so many different ways.

I don’t want to make this post about me, so I’ll try to be short:

I grew up without parents, they both died when I was 4 and 7, during the time I lived alone with my mom I suffered several kinds of abuse, and although I knew that she loved me, part of me couldn’t forgive her. I didn’t know that that was even possible. Then, when I moved in to my grandparent’s house, my grandpa got really sick with bones cancer, and my 10 year old innocent self wanted to help. That’s when Bones appeared.

One day back in 2008, I was watching Bones on my tv (here in Portugal “Ossos”), and initially I thought that it was a show related to bones diseases, as I kept watching it I realized it wasn’t what I thought, but by that time I was already caught.

The years went by, my grandpa unfortunatlly passed away, but I still kept myself watching Bones.

In 2011, I got really sick, I was diagnosed with a severe depression, anxiety, PTSD, and I was also struggling with self-harm and bulimia (ed)… I didn’t know how to deal with all of what I was going through, I was only 13 years old and my life seemed to be over… that’s when one of my doctors told me “I know that you love being home, so while you’re home, you have to distract yourself, watch a show, read a movie, anything” and so I did. Bones was already a HUGE part of my life back then, but in that moment something clicked, something inside of me said :

“Okay Bones, you didn’t appeared in my life to save my grandfather’s life, you appeared so you could save mine”

As in that moment if I was experiencing a panic attack, I would watch Bones, if I was severly depressed I would watch Bones, if I was happy I would watch Bones, and the list goes on and on.

I started to realize that one hour a week, I would feel completely free. Every Thursday, Monday, Tuesday (whenever the show aired) I would be so happy, like I’d never been sick.

By the end of season 5 I stopped watching the show on tv and started to watch it livestream because I couldn’t wait, and, still today, I wait until 2am for the show to be on. I still remember the excitment of watching Bones live for the first time, I was completely in awe.

While watching Bones I realized that I had many similarities with doctor Brennan, on a personal level, and watching her character growth, helped me grow. I started by forgiving who needed to be forgiven, just like Brennan did with Max, I started to believe that maybe love did existed, just like Booth proved to Brennan, I started to believe that maybe sometimes heart over head is the right choice, just like Angela always teached Brennan, I started to believe that even the smartest has to have some psychological advice sometimes, just like Sweets teached Brennan…

But for me, the most important thing that I learned from Bones is that, the darkest paths have the brightest futures. That saved my life. Knowing that there’s hope, that life is so good if we put effort on it. Temperance Brennan taught me that.

I grew up with this show, I grew up with B&B. I’ve seen the loniest people becoming family, I’ve seen love and I’ve seen faith. I’ve seen all of that everytime I saw Booth looking into Brennan’s eyes, or when they where simply walking down the street. I’ve seen all of that when they got married and when they had kids. I’ve seen all of that everytime they were doing the job they love or when they were protecting each other. I’ve seen a world full of possibilities thanks to this show, to this couple and to all of the characters. 

Bones became my only constant in life, my happiness, my light, my home. This is my home.

Bones gave me so many great memories that it’s phisycally impossible to write them all, but I remember watching 3x13 and just brusting into laughter with the carpet joke, I remember going nuts with Booth throwing Brennan into a wall on 4x19, I remember bawlling my eyes out on 5x01 after Booth calling Brennan baby, I remember falling even more in love with B&B after 5x16, I remember hearing “Make you feel my love” on 6x23, and that becoming my favorite song ever (what lead me to my favorite singer aka Adele, thank you Bones), I remember crying so hard on 7x07 that my neighbours came knocking on my door, I remember felling so hard out of my bed in 8x01 because of Booth finding Brennan, that I broke my toe, I remember screaming so hard at Pelant that I would get a soar throat, I remember making my best friend watch 10x01 with me because I thought I would die… there are so many memories…. I also remember being so excited to watch ALL of the interviews of David and Emily, I remember that everytime the bloopers came out I would make EVERYONE watch them, I remember screaming and jumping on top of my bed until I broke it when Hart Hanson, Pej Vahdat and Kathy Reichs answered me on twitter. And my favorite memorie of all… I remember the feeling I experienced when I did my Bones tattoos (my first ones).

I can’t thank enough to ANY of the people on this cast, people that make me feel blessed for knowing that their relationships out of the screen are what helped to built the perfect storyline. Because of them I am so proud to call this, my show.

I will never understand how can a show have so much power on somebody’s life to the point that literally saves it, but it does, so thank you Bones for making my life messy, and confusing, and unfocused and irrational and wonderful.

Bones also taught me that, there’s more than one kind of family. And I couldn’t end this text without saying THANK YOU to the people that became my family when I had none. And I do have to give a shoutout to @temperancebren because this girl really helped me so much and made our distance her bitch. Also a shoutout to @michaelaconlin because every liveblog I did I knew I could count on her “company” and finally, shoutout to @pookie—noodlin @imalwayscalmandobjective @like-you-it-makes-no-sense (talking to you has been amazing) @wellsbones @allowustofly @emm-doubleyou @daffodildaisyjupiter @bones-jeffersonian @cortexifansquint @jigsmave @peppernights , and many other people that allowed me to be their number 1 stalker.

Dear Boneheads (aka famiy), to you, I wish you happiness, love laugther, friendship, a prupose and a dance.

Thank you, and remember, this isn’t a goodbye, family is forever. And together I know that we will turn this pain, agony and overwhelming sadness a little bit more bearable.

Now, with my heart brusting out my cheast and with tears streaming down my face I tell you:

See you tomorrow. I love you.

“-The sun will come up and tomorrow is a new day.

-Two plus two equals four. I put sugar in my coffee and it tastes sweet. The sun comes up because the world turns. These things are beautiful to me. There are mysteries I will never understand, but everywhere I look I see proof that for every effect there is a corresponding cause. Even if I can’t see it. I find that reassuring

-And life is good again.”

 #ThankYouBones Week: Day 12 → 1 bones cast final thank you

#Thank you Bones #i'm crying so hard #emotional #personal #bonestv #bones #temperance brennan #seeley booth #angela montenegro #jack hodgins #camille saroyan #lance sweets #james aubrey #bones cast #thank you #i love all of you #bonehead #boneheads #I cant believe tomorrow is the day #I want to sleep for 3 years #my heart is crushing

[jolteonjordansh]

Thoughts on Tamers Introduction Arc

Yeah... I have no idea what to call this arc since Digimon Tamers is structured so differently from the Digimon Adventure series. It’s definitely a new beast compared to its predecessors, which is probably why it has this arc to set up how this whole new world works. This consists of the first 12 episodes (and kinda sorta episode 13 since it’s sort of an arc transition episode), so basically my initial thoughts of the series. So how is it?

I probably shouldn’t be writing when I’m in the middle of finals week but here we go.

This arc is actually super short compared to what I’m used to (or maybe that’s because Adventure 02′s arcs were really long, but whatever) and it honestly doesn’t have a ton of substance, at least in terms of being super eventful. In 13 episodes of Digimon Adventure, the seven DigiDestined all got their Digimon to evolve to Champion forms, conquer File Island and confront several big baddies--including defeating Devimon. For Tamers? The three main tamers get their Digimon to evolve to Champion form a couple of time at most and typically just deal with a few rogue Digimon “realizing” in the real world.

But that doesn’t make Tamers first arc bad at all. I’m actually glad that the story, for the most part, took its time. It’s far more emotionally driven and focused on writing and developing its characters than it is throwing a bunch of action-packed battles. That could change in later arcs and this also isn’t to say any of the battles were bad here either. 

Since there were so few battles, it’s easy to talk about those first. Probably the most interesting ones are the ones where each main Digimon achieves Champion form for the first time--Growlmon’s probably being my favorite. Like 02, Digimon have multiple attacks, which I really liked about that series as an improvement over Adventure. But along with that, Tamers’ “Card Slash” addition adds a good chunk of new variety to the battles. There’s mostly stat boosting cards, but the ones that give new abilities like White Wings on Guilmon are my favorite so far, so I really hope they keep being creative with it later on. Plus it also adds an extra bit of variety for how Digivolution isn’t really necessary to turn a battle around. It keeps things interesting and at times less predictable than what the Adventures series had to struggle with.

What I also really like about this arc and series so far is the characters--they’re honestly pretty unique and mostly don’t fall into major stereotypes. There’s obviously character tropes here and there, but they’re done with enough of a unique spin that I wouldn’t call any of them stereotypes. But what I like the most between all three of them is that they have their own strengths and flaws, but none of them are higher on the rung nor is there one character who is typically right about everything while there’s a bonehead who’s looked down on as the group idiot. I’ll try to explain.

Rika seems like the typical “cold-hearted bitch” and while she does fall into a few tropes, she is right about a few things. She’s very logical and her mentality reflects that, making her a better fighter and helping characters like Takato realize the flaws in his own strategies. But it’s because of her logical mindset that she’s cruel to Renamon and finds herself struggling internally. At the same time though, she has logical fears. She realizes she’s playing a dangerous game and she keeps a brave face on, but it’s when she’s directly facing that danger (such as when she’s been directly targetted by Digimon) that she feels a sense of helplessness.

Takato kind of falls into the “weird kid at school” archetype, but it’s honestly refreshing to have that character as the main protagonist for Digimon. After having the outgoing, courageous hothead Tai and... Davis I guess, Takato is honestly a more fun and (to me) more realistic character. Our previous leads were good characters in their own rights but despite the whole “average Joe” archetype the writers were going for with Davis, Takato feels like the most relatable lead so far. He’s weird, his imagination is running wild with ideas, he’s passionate about his interests to the point that it distracts him from school, he has friends but he also gets in fights with them, he gets in trouble with his parents for being a tad rebellious but he isn’t out to get in serious trouble... But guess what? That’s a kid! Kids are weird! They get in trouble! They get all sorts of ideas all of the time! And I commend the writers for nailing it with Takato.

But he’s not perfect. He doesn’t think his Digimon battles through and he gets cocky when he thinks he has it all figured out (but it’s not a running theme with him like many standard hothead protagonists). He’s extremely emotionally invested in and attached to Guilmon, to the point that he can’t possibly stand the very idea of losing him. But he’s a big dreamer (no pun intended on the theme song) that sometimes doesn’t realize how ambitious his dreams can be. When he first meets Guilmon and comes across his evolved Growlmon, he’s scared of the potential monster he’s created. He’s not the bravest kid around when faced with harsh realities, but he does overcome them and he does realize when he’s made a mistake. He’s actual a pretty big crybaby for a main protagonist, but that’s part of what makes him so human.

Then you have Henry, who’s sort of the in-between for Rika and Takato and the pacifist. He has the ability to fight, but he’s too scared to fight because of a past experience with his Terriermon digivolving to Gargomon and being out of his control. He cares a lot about Terriermon, but he realizes that he’s a creature that isn’t meant to exist in the “real world”. He has a balance of rationale and emotions, though it’s clear that his emotions tend to win over certain situations--he typically takes Takato’s side and stays out of fights because of his attachment to Terriermon. He’s a middle ground in the cast, but not to the point that he’s boring.

As for the Digimon, I like pretty much all three. Guilmon’s easily my favorite--he’s just so gosh darn adorable and his relationship with Takato has been really good so far. Renamon is the stoic and “cool” one, and I do like her. Nothing has really happened that has made me say “Oh my God, I love this character!”, but she’s interesting enough and I like some of her dedication to Rika, even though she has been pushed aside by her. I do also admittedly really like Kyubimon’s design too. Terriermon is just... sort of there for me. I wasn’t really fond of him when I first started watching, and I don’t particularly care for Terriermon or Gargomon’s designs. But I have warmed up to him at least though, and I do like that he’s a bit of a subtle smart aleck. 

To briefly mention one other Digimon, Calumon is a white ball of pure adorableness. I never thought there was a Digimon that could rival Patamon as the pure cinnamon roll but my gosh, Calumon’s very existence is the embodiment of pure. There’s no other way to describe him. I can see he’s kind of a walking plot device, but dammit, they made this plot device too cute for me to possibly be mad about!

Oh, and there’s Impmon I guess. Yeah, he’s a little shit. I literally have nothing else to say about him (though I do wonder how much fun the dub writers had tweaking his script).

Normally I would talk about the antagonist here too, but there’s so little we know at this point of the show that I really don’t know how to comment. Just, “Ooh, government conspiracies!”. I’d complain about how overdone that is, but at the same time there comes a point where you watch so much Digimon that you wonder where the hell the government is. I mean, Adventure 02 briefly touched on this, but just had Gennai screw them over anyway. The main baddie’s lighter clicking kind of has my attention for some reason though. A nervous tick perhaps? Maybe I’ve just played too much Ace Attorney.

Yet despite all of the “cover-up” going on with the Digimon, I have to say that it’s borderline completely unnecessary considering how freaking stupid the pedestrians in the Tamers world are. Seriously, I thought it was bad in the Adventure series for how few recognized the whole Digimon thing and how shocked they were when it happened for the third time in tri, yet they acted like it was a totally new thing. But the people in the Tamers world are either blind, coincidentally not around when something happens, or just really, really stupid. No one ever notices a Digital Field, Hypnos tries to cover up all of the totally clear as day kaiju fights by shutting down any technology, yet no one reports it? Not once does anyone question whether or not Guilmon is more than just a kid in a really realistic looking costume? I mean, I can accept passing off Terriermon as a plushie, but there are moments he talks right in front of people and no one raises a fuss. There is one scene where Henry scolds him for potentially drawing attention, but this is just one of many, many times where people conveniently do not notice. You can only stretch one’s suspension of disbelief so far. The subplot where Impmon pulls a ton of pranks in a park is about as close as it gets, but I can kinda believe people mistaking him for a kid in a costume. You can only get so far with a walking, talking dinosaur running around in public. But hey, if We’re Back! could pull it off for about 30 minutes, why the hell not!

It’s a nitpick at best, but it seriously starts to become questionable three series in, especially when the Adventure series always tried to cover up the partner Digimon when they could, but then you have Tamers with kids just casually walking around with their Digimon. I mean, I wish that was the world we were living in!

I guess if I had to nitpick about another thing, the animation towards to the beginning is kind of laughable. I know just about any show is like that in its first few episodes, and maybe this is because I’m not watching the show on an old low-resolution CRT TV as it was meant to back in the early 2000′s, but there’s definitely some bad, wonky and very simplified frames and cycles of animation. There’s also a couple of cheap digital animation tricks being overused, like just moving single frames of animation with zooms or moving them around like little puppets. I do think the animation does improve within the first arc, but I’m pretty sure plenty of the animation budget went into the Digivolution animations. And honestly, they are still pretty impressive to look at to this day and are very stylistic. Granted, they look kind of... painful for the Digimon, but it’s still more impressive than having the Digimon just... spin into Champion form.

Finally, the music is really good too. “The Biggest Dreamer” is another awesome Digimon opening provided by the late Koji Wada, “EVO” is a great Digivolution theme that I really like the lyrics for, “Card Slash!” is catchy as hell, and “My Tomorrow” is a nice ending theme, probably one of my more favorite ones. There’s also “3 Primary Colors” as an insert song, but I didn’t really get enough of an impression of it just hearing it once. I also really like the instrumentals for these songs, like the piano version of “The Biggest Dreamer” (OW MY HEART) and that jazzy version of “Card Slash!” is pretty swell too. The other BGM is nice as well, and I think I may have heard a few songs reused from the Adventure series, but I’m not 100% sure on that. If there’s any complaint I have about the music, it’s that so far the fights have been so short that the songs don’t really get a chance to play in full--even at TV size. I don’t really mind moments where songs like Card Slash! transition into EVO, but I do hope we get more fleshed out fight scenes to give some of these songs the treatment they deserve.

There really isn’t much plot for me to talk about since this arc is spent establishing the world and characters, but I don’t particularly mind that! I like that the show takes its time to introduce its audience to the world it has, but not to a point that it drags or bores the audience. It still has enough good characters, good action and new Digimon elements as well as enough mystery to keep me invested. Characters with good enough chemistry and development that I’ve already cried at least three times. Because Digimon enjoys doing that to me, and I keep watching it anyway.

Which is exactly why I wrote this as fast as possible so I could go watch more. That’s it! See you guys after another 10+ episodes!

#Shut Up JJ #JJ DigiWatches #final thoughts

[business-school-diaries-blog]

Types of People in Business School - Part 1

1. NERDS

You think these specimen are forever gone after you leave high school?

That they suddenly turn into party animals who dare to miss a lecture the next day?

Nope. They still exist and are very much present in business school.

Easy to spot, with their perfectly laid out learning materials, from super fluorescent markers, fineliners and post-it’s, these creatures make every lecture pure hell.

Hated and scoffed by everyone else, they consider themselves the elite of the school, but they haven’t met....

2. THE RICH KIDS

Yeah, those little assholes.

They drive around in a Porsche / Ferrari / Jaguar (insert any sports car brand in here )  sponsored by Daddy and hate even more on the nerds than anyone else. Mostly because they got into the programm thanks to their "connections”and are now struggeling with every course. 

These people will most likely not talk to you unless your parents have about the same number on their bank account as theirs.

They will spend freshman parties drinking Moet, while the rest of you scrape up your last couple of bucks for a cheap bottle of wine.

And while you live in the dorms, they share a futuristic villa with four other rich kids, personal chef, cleaning lady and massive weekend parties.

Sorry, you’re not invited.

3. THE WHAT-AM-I-EVEN-DOING-HERE-TYPE

Almost non-existent in business school, since no one would go through that annoying application process if they weren’t a 1000% sure, this is the right course for them.

But some of them still find themselves in this very situation.

“I don’t know, if I made the right choice...”

“This is really not how I expected it....”

“I think my parents were right, when they told me to study law....”

In other words, total losers, with whom no one should ever have to hang out with,

4. HARD WORKER

Okay, so those are probably more annoying than the ones mentioned above.

They usually come from a poor household and are trying everything to get to the top.

Sometimes you can’t help but feel sorry for them, since you know, that Rich Kid #24 might get that J.P.Morgan internship, although he is a bonehead and doesn’t know what an IPO is.

5. THE BEAUTYQUEEN / BEAUTYKING

Someone who got everyones attention on the first day of uni.

With their remarkable facial bone structure, sparkling eyes, banging body and advanced fashion sense, they are the most desirable candidates when it comes to future boyfriend/girlfriend.

Sadly, they’re not too smart and hide their lack of knowledge behind a charming smile ( or stupid questions).

You’re awfully jealous but can’t help to like them, because their so clumsy and dumb, Like a puppy.

If they don’t make it in business school, the local gym is for sure interested.

6. THE “CLASSCLOWN”

You know him. You hate him. You wished he’d fuck off. He won’t.

Pretty much the reason you hate 8 AM. lectures. He’s sitting there, just WAITING for a moment to be funny.

He lives for the adrenalin rush of a good joke.

Just that he’s never funny. At least not to you.

Besides the class clown, you’ll despise the stupid people who actually laugh at his stupid jokes and therefore give him enough reason to continue.

Fuck ‘em.

7. THE UNKNOWN

Although your class size might be very small compared to other courses on campus, you will not know everyone. Sure, Beautyqueen and Beautyking are already on your daily Instagram-Stalk-Schedule, but the rest...Mehhh.

You’ll see that there will be girls who are so boring and plain that they all look the same to you.

Is that Sara? Maike? Ally? Or actually the same person who walked by three times?

In life you always say “Time will tell”.

Not in this case.

With their narcotic H&M black, white and beige clothing collection, they won’t stand out to you.

Which is good. Ain’t nobody got time for basic bitches.

#college #college funny #types of people #Business school #Business School diaries #Business School student #Basic bitches #types of People in college #types of People in Business school #party #rich kids #college life

[secondhandmckie]

1-10, 22, 23, 38

OC Meme

1.  What’s their full name? Why was that chosen? Does it mean anything?

Molly Melinda Mei McKie. The only names given to her with a purpose were “Melinda” and “Mei”, which are the names of her Paternal and Maternal grandmothers, respectively. As she doesn’t have a relationship with either woman (or a majority of her birth family, for that matter), Molly prefers to ignore her full name. 

2. Do they have any titles? How did they get them?

No titles in the majority of her verses, except for the Lionheart verse, in which she is the Queen. Of course, she gained the title by birth and succession.

3. Did they have a good childhood? What are fond memories they have of it? What’s a bad memory?

Honestly, in spite of the fact that she had virtually no relationship with her birth family (and only bad exposure to her father), Molly had a tremendous childhood. She lived in a veritable playground for a child–the inn was and is always bustling with life and people willing to play games and teach her new things (and watch after her when her uncle needed to work). Her imagination ran wild, and it was encouraged. While she had some trouble in school (both because of her and because of other factors), she had some good friends, and never had trouble making more. 

A bad memory would probably have to be when she realized that the kids around her didn’t think the way she did. She was made fun of for her short attention span ( which wasn’t helped by a teacher asking ‘what are you, stupid?’ when she asked them to repeat the question for a third time). It’s still something that bothers her. 

4. What is their relationship with their parents? What’s a good and bad memory with them? Did they know both parents?

Molly’s parents are out of the picture. I think when she was younger, she wanted to know them–all of her friends had a mom and a dad, after all–but the older she got, the more she was just angry at them. Ultimately, she decided it was best that they don’t talk at all. 

The worst moment was when her father came by to borrow money from her uncle, after not seeing his daughter for years at a time. To get him to leave them alone, Molly gave her father the money she’d been saving since she was younger (her first Someday Jars, if you remember the reference). To her knowledge, Alan hasn’t come around since, and she has never told her uncle.

5. Do they have any siblings? What’s their names? What is their relationship with them? Has their relationship changed since they were kids to adults?

Funny enough, she does have one brother (that she knows of, at least). His name Avery, her half-brother on her father’s side. He’s only a few years younger than she is, but he often is more wise and mature than she is, and can seem the eldest because of it. Unfortunately, Molly didn’t get to meet Avery until their adult years (he sought her out, she had no idea he existed), but fortunately for them, they bonded almost immediately.  She can’t  imagine her life without him now.

6. What were they like at school? Did they enjoy it? Did they finish? What level of higher education did they reach? What subjects did they enjoy? Which did they hate?

Molly did graduate high school, with a handful of colleges to choose from. Only, when her uncle had an accident, she had to take over for him at the inn, and she never left her small town. Someday she hopes to rectify that. 

School in general was exciting for her. Molly enjoyed learning (and still does) and eats information up, but she was often over and under stimulated depending on the class, leaving her to appear disrespectful and inattentive. Her favorite classes were those she could stand and learn by doing. She adored the sciences and a multitude of others, but any class that left her sitting in a desk and staring at a board all day was a bit like sitting in a cage. 

7.  Did they have lots of friends as a child? Did they keep any of their childhood friends into adulthood?

Lots is a relative term, but she did have a good amount of friends in school. In a small town, most everyone at least remains friends somehow, though some are closer than others. Molly has grown apart with some, but still remains on hand to help if anyone needs anything at all. (After all, she meets Nautica by helping one such friend by tending their bar when they’re down a pair of hands)

8. Did they have pets as a child? Do they have pets as an adult? Do they like animals?

Oh gosh, Molly loves animals! She was one of those kids to have the Zoobook magazines, and collected every single last one. She likely still has them, somewhere. As a child, she begged for a dog, but her uncle is allergic to them. 

She would love to have a dog these days, but her plans are to eventually move away from the small town–she thinks it would be unfair to get a dog and uproot it that way. 

9. Do animals like them? Do they get on well with animals?

Animals love Molly. There isn’t any way to explain it–they just gravitate to her as much as she gravitates to them, but perhaps that’s because most animals are great judges of character. She loves them.

10.  Do they like children? Do children like them? Do they have or want any children? What would they be like as a parent? Or as a godparent/babysitter/ect?

Children generally like Molly, too. She’s fun and unimposing, and she doesn’t try to talk over them. They like that she stands up for them, and that she likes watching cartoons as much as they do. 

Molly is…awkward with kids in the beginning. She’s scared of dropping babies and she’s worried she’ll accidentally say something bad to or around a kid. Outside of that, though, she really does like them. Kids are inquisitive, but they’re not born with malice in their bones, and she wants to give them the experience she had–to encourage their imagination and curiosity with the world around them. She would be a fun mom, and a good one. Yes, she’ll make mistakes, but she’ll love them with her whole heart, with or without a partner to help her. She wants a kid. The same goes for her being an aunt or a godparent. She will be a shoulder to cry on and a protective body. She’ll be their friend as well as their family. All she wants is for them to be loved. 

…and if they’re a little spoiled by the end of the visit, who cares?

22. What are their favourite insults to use? What do they insult people for? Or do they prefer to bitch behind someone’s back?

Molly does curse at people when she’s angry, but for the most part, her insults are childish at best. She’s been known to use such things as ‘jerk’, and ‘bonehead’. ‘Asshat’ is also a favorite and she’s been known to make them up if the right word is unavailable. She doesn’t like to talk about people or start gossip–and typically, if she’s angry, she just hits people. Not the best approach, but effective. 

Insults, for her, can also be a term of endearment. (Ex: @actofgenius, where she calls Victor “Jerk”).

23. Do they have a good memory? Short term or long term? Are they good with names? Or faces?

She has…excellent memory in some cases. Molly can recall facts about  Roman culture and what sort of pigment they used on vases in various eras, but sometimes when it comes to dates or someone’s name, she’ll have little to no recollection. Faces are something she’s so much better with than names, but she does try. This is one reason why she carries a variety of datebooks and notebooks.

38. What do they admire in others? What talents do they wish they had?

Molly admires so much about her fellow humans. Their capacity for goodness and kindness, their sense of humor… She loves people so much. I think the thing she wishes she had more of is patience and people-skills. She’s better with people than she thinks she is, but she wishes sometimes she could read the room better? She doesn’t want to scare people away anymore.

#;;headcanon

[anavoliselenu]

Claim me chapter 7

“As for Tanner …” I trail off with a shrug. I suspect he’s the source, but I can’t prove it. “Doesn’t matter much. They know now. Yay,” I add dryly.

Jamie leans closer to me, her brows pulling together as she studies my face. “Are you okay? I mean, really okay?”

I almost put on my practiced smile and nod and say that everything will be fine. But this is Jamie, and she’s been my best friend since about forever. More important, she knew how much my big sister meant to me. How much I’d relied on Ashley to survive all the shit my mother put me through. The nights locked in my room with no way to turn on the light because my mother was convinced I needed my beauty sleep. The interminable hours walking with a book on my head. The second weekend of the month when I was allowed only water with lemon so that I would detox and “keep that nasty cellulite at bay.” The big things, the little things, and so much more.

I was the one to win the ribbons and the tiaras, but it was Ashley I’d envied. Ashley, who’d been allowed to live a normal life, or so I’d thought. Ashley, who’d tended to her little sister even before tending to herself.

I hadn’t thought about how my mother’s harping must have been drilled into my sister’s head, too. Or, at least, I hadn’t thought about it until it was too late and I was holding Ashley’s suicide note in my hand and looking at her neat, precise handwriting blaming her husband leaving her on the fact that she must have failed at being a woman and a wife. That somehow, she hadn’t managed to be the lady our mother had tried to train us to be.

Bitch.

I close my eyes and realize that my hand is resting on my thigh—right over the scar beneath my skirt. I’d cut before Ashley died, but once she was gone, I’d kicked it up a notch.

There are so many memories tied up in those scars, as if each small ridge of tissue represents an emotional mountain. Mostly, though, there’s Ashley.

“No,” I finally say in answer to Jamie’s question. “I’m not okay. But I was—before they brought up Ashley, I was dealing with it. I didn’t like it, but I was coping. And I’ll be okay again. I just wasn’t prepared today.”

“It will pass, you know. That’s the good and the bad about publicity. It goes away.”

“And like Tanner said, I’m the flavor of the month.” I smile, and this time it’s genuine. “Maybe next month they’ll leave me alone and focus on the rising starlet who’s dating Byron Rand.”

“Bryan Raine,” she corrects. “And don’t even try to change the subject. So come on—forget the stupid paparazzi. I want to hear the rest of what happened at the meeting.”

“Right,” I say, then finish off my martini. I’ve been telling Jamie what happened once Tanner and I reached Suncoast, and I was up to the actual meeting with the clients.

“I’ll field that,” Tanner had said when the head of IT asked me a conceptual question. “Ms. Fairchild is coming at this from a purely administrative point of view.”

“The little prick,” Jamie says when I get to that part of the story.

“No argument from me,” I say. “But I probably should have said nothing. I mean, the whole idea was to get the client to take the product and the team. That would get Tanner out of my hair for six months.”

“So what did you do?”

“When he finished, I just casually pointed out that while Tanner’s overview was entirely accurate, he left out some key information. Then I spent the next fifteen minutes running through ways to tweak the algorithm to give them a huge variety of options. I mean, conceptually, the program is brilliant, but when you get down to the actual coding, then all you really—”

“Okay,” Jamie says, lifting her hand. “I get the idea. Techie stuff. You impressed them. Tanner looked like a doofus.”

“So sweet and so true,” I admit. “But the beauty is that he didn’t look like an ignorant doofus. He knows his stuff. He just left out some important details.”

“Which is good, because they wouldn’t want some bonehead moving in-house for six months,” Jamie says.

“Exactly. I think I’d have to quit if Tanner were working down the hall from me. The guy’s toxic.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want you to quit,” Jamie says, rolling her eyes. “How on earth would you live? A million dollars just doesn’t go as far as it used to.”

I toss my napkin at her, but I’m smiling as I do it.

The bartender comes over and Jamie orders another martini. I go with a sparkling water.

“You have no sense of adventure,” she says.

I think about the rather adventurous things Justin and I have done together and bite back a very self-satisfied smile.

“So when do you get the money?” she asks.

“It’s already mine. But I need to tell Justin where to transfer it.”

“Uh, yeah,” Jamie says.

I shrug. The truth is, I’m oddly hesitant to invest it. There’s so much riding on that money, and after seeing how my mother’s horrible investments went spiraling down the drain, I’m nervous about making my own choices. Of course, Mother’s failure was about her craptastic running of the family business and her ridiculous over-the-top spending habits, but knowing that I am not my mother and believing that I am not my mother are two entirely different things.

“I’ve been talking with brokers,” I say, which is sort of true. I’ve talked with two receptionists to make appointments to talk with brokers. From the way Jamie eyes me, I’m pretty sure she’s cluing in to my deception. “And enough about the money,” I say, as the bartender returns with our drinks. I lift my water. “To you. Today a commercial, tomorrow an Oscar.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

“You’ll drink to anything.”

“True,” she says, and polishes off half the martini. “Would you have believed it?” she asks.

I don’t know what she means. “Believe what?”

“When we were in high school and you were doing all those damned Miss Corner Gas Station pageants and I was auditioning for community theater. Would you have believed we’d be in Los Angeles and I’d have a commercial and you’d be on the cusp of starting your own business? Not to mention lassoing the town’s most eligible bachelor.”

“No,” I say. “I never would have believed it.”

“So this is for both of us,” Jamie says as she holds out her fist, waiting for me to bump it. I do eagerly. “For two Texas girls who moved to LA on their own, we’re not doing half bad.”

Since Jamie walked to the bar, I drive us both back to the condo. It takes longer than I anticipate since my Honda keeps stalling out at the lights.

“Face it, Nik,” Jamie says. “You can’t do LA in this car.”

I’m afraid she’s right, but the truth is bittersweet. The car is the first thing I bought on my own. I’m proud of what it represents, and I can’t help but feel a little bit superstitious about the fact that she’s starting to die right now when I’m starting to take off.

“I’ll take her in for a tune-up soon,” I decide. “It’s probably just something like spark plugs or a gunked up carburetor.”

“Do you even know what a carburetor is?”

“No,” I admit. “But presumably the mechanic does.”

“Open your eyes and observe the reality, Nik. She’s been a great little car, but she’s going to stall out on the highway one day, and you’re going to be the lead story on the eleven o’clock news. ‘Billionaire’s girlfriend squashed like a bug in fifteen-car pileup.’ Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

I roll my eyes, but I don’t argue. The truth is, she may have a point.

“Speaking of the billionaire boyfriend,” Jamie continues, “who all’s coming to the party tomorrow? I’ll finally get to meet Evelyn, right?”

“Oh, yeah,” I say. “And Blaine, of course. And you and me. We’re the only ones who know it’s me on that wall, so we’re keeping it intimate—”

Jamie interrupts me with a snort, and I curse my choice of words.

“We’re keeping it small,” I begin again, “until eight. That’s when the regular guests arrive to see all of Blaine’s paintings and do the mingling thing.”

“Cool. And Ollie?” She says it casually, and I can’t tell if she’s just making conversation or if there’s still something going on between the two of them. I know I should simply ask, but I can’t bring myself to do it.

“He’s not coming,” I say.

“Not for the first part,” she clarifies. “I know you never told him about the painting.” She eyes me sideways. “Did you?”

“No,” I say firmly.

“I was wondering if he was coming to the rest of it. The showing, or whatever you want to call it.”

“I’m still calling it a cocktail party,” I say as I pull the car into my assigned parking space. “And no, he’s not coming. I think he and Courtney have plans,” I add, referring to Ollie’s fiancée. I feel guilty about the lie, but I don’t want to tell Jamie that Justin refused to invite Ollie to his home. It bothers me that Justin and one of my best friends don’t get along, but I get where Justin’s coming from.

Though they’d started out sniffing around each other like two alpha dogs, they’d ultimately forged a tentative truce. But that came to an abrupt end when Ollie told me some of Justin’s secrets—and breached the attorney-client privilege by doing so. Justin understands that Ollie thought he was protecting me, and that’s probably the only reason that Ollie is still a lawyer and still working in this town. Or on this continent, for that matter.

But Justin doesn’t want him in the house, and I can’t say that I blame him. I hope they find a way to get along, because I need both these men in my life. But it’s only been about a week since all the shit went down, and things are just too raw between them.

Jamie, however, knows none of that, and I don’t plan to tell her. But that’s one more wedge between us, even if I’m the only one who realizes it’s there.

Soon we’re at the door and I’m fumbling for my house key. I slide it into the lock and push open the door—then stop dead on the threshold.

“Holy fuck,” Jamie says, looking over my shoulder.

I don’t say anything. Jamie has pretty much said it all.

There, in the middle of our living room, is the bed. The bed. The beautiful iron bed beside which I’d posed. The stunning bed upon which Justin so thoroughly fucked me last night, and so many nights before that.

I realize we’re both standing frozen and take a step into the room. There’s a dress bag from Fred’s on the bed with a note pinned to the plastic. I only have to glance at the handwriting on the envelope to feel my body tighten with anticipation. Slowly, I pull the folded slip of paper from the envelope, then unfold it and read:

I would appreciate it if you would do me the honor of wearing this dress tomorrow, Ms. Fairchild. And then perhaps you will do me the even greater honor of taking it off.

I realize too late that Jamie is behind me, reading over my shoulder. “How did you get so lucky? The guy is seriously swoon-worthy.”

“Totally,” I agree, smiling.

She flops down on the bed while I unzip the garment bag, and then laugh. I’d fallen in love with the dress while we were shopping yesterday. It hits mid-thigh and is made out of dusty-blue chiffon. It’s not fitted, but the pleated front and flowy design make it fun and flirty, and I cannot wait to put it on with my favorite pair of clunky silver sandals and a matching silver bangle.

I hold it up for Jamie to see. “What do you think?”

“I think you’re going to look hotter than sin in that dress,” she says. “Can I raid your closet? I’m bored out of my mind with my clothes.”

“Jamie, you’re a size four. I haven’t been that small since I escaped from Mother and learned about the existence of that mysterious substance I like to call food.”

She sighs and eyes my new dress lustfully. “I need my own billionaire boyfriend.”

“I don’t disagree,” I say. “I find him a highly desirable accessory.”

“Wanna go shopping?” Jamie asks. “I’m serious about my wardrobe crisis.”

I glance at my phone. Still no word from Justin. “Sure,” I say. “But give me a sec to change and feed the cat. And can we get some real dinner while we’re out? Vodka isn’t one of the major food groups.”

“It’s not?” Jamie retorts, displaying her stellar acting skills by putting real bafflement into her tone. She heads to her room as I go to the kitchen. Lady Meow-Meow appears the minute I pop the pull-top on her kitty food, and she head-butts the back of my leg until I finally put the food dish down in front of her.

I’m in my room stripping off my work clothes when Jamie calls to me. “How’d he get in the apartment?”

“Beats me,” I say, though I can guess. He probably bribed the manager, who’s just wacky enough to have been amused by the thought of a surprise bed delivery.

I change into one of the math T-shirts Jamie maligned earlier—friends don’t let friends derive drunk—and a pair of jeans. It’s the first time I’ve worn jeans since Blaine started the portrait, actually, and I hesitate before zipping them up, feeling a bit naughty. Like I’m breaking a rule.

I’m not, of course. The game’s over. If I want to wear jeans, I can.

And if I want to go pantyless under a skirt? Well, I can do that, too.

I’m grinning as I leave my bedroom, but my mood shifts when I get back to the living room and the giant bed that overwhelms the space. I’d been so happy when I walked in and saw it there, as if I were being bathed in a flood of special memories.

Now that happiness is mixed with a tinge of some unpleasant emotion, though I’m not entirely sure what is troubling me.

I move to the bed and press my palm against the smooth round ball of the footboard. I’m thrilled that the bed wasn’t shipped off to a warehouse somewhere or sold to an antiques store, but at the same time, I’m undeniably melancholy.

“It doesn’t belong here,” I say, when Jamie returns and asks me what’s wrong.

“The bed?”

“It’s supposed to be at the Malibu house. Not here,” I repeat. “It feels like an ending somehow.”

I remember the story Justin told me. About how he sacrificed a deal he was passionate about in order to save the tiny gourmet food producer. I didn’t like the story then, and I like it even less now.

Jamie is silent for a moment as she stares intently at me. “Oh, shit, Nik,” she finally says. “Don’t even.”

“What?”

“Don’t go all Psych 101 on me. You’re looking for all sorts of meanings that aren’t there. You do this all the time.”

“I do not.”

“Well, maybe not all the time, but you did it with Milo.”

“That was freshman year of high school.”

“So maybe ‘all the time’ was a tiny exaggeration,” she concedes. “My point is that you had a crush on him and he was a senior, remember?” I nod, because I remember it well. “And it was cold one day, and he lent you his letter jacket.”

“And we spent a week trying to analyze what his underlying motivation was.” Oh, yes. I remember.

“Turns out he was motivated by the fact that you were cold and he was nice.”

“And your point?”

“Do you like the bed?” she asks.

“I love it,” I admit.

“Does Justin know you love it?”

“Sure.”

“So there you go. You like the bed. Justin likes you—understatement of the year, but there you have it. I’m sure that when you move in, you can take the bed back there with you.”

“When I move in?” The idea is both terrifying and exciting.

“That’s what you want, right? Not that I’m trying to kick you out, but a girl’s gotta face reality.”

Yes, I almost say, but then I close my mouth and start over. “It’s too soon to even think about that.”

“Shit, Nik. You want it. Own it.”

“Fine,” I say. “I want it. But leaping into things that we want isn’t always the best course of action. Sometimes, a little thought and discretion make a lot of sense.”

“This isn’t about me,” she says, totally catching on to the way I’ve shifted the subject.

I sigh. “Maybe it should be. You’re not exactly one to be giving relationship advice.”

“True. But you asked. So which one of us is the idiot here? Besides,” she continues as I stifle a grin, “maybe I’m turning over a new leaf. Monogamy can be fun. I mean, I can’t imagine getting tired of Raine.” Her face turns dreamy. “Actually, after last night I don’t think I can imagine Raine getting tired.”

I laugh, but have to silently admit that I know the feeling.

“So I keep the bed?”

“Hell, yes, you keep the bed. For that matter, keep it in the living room for a day or so. Margarita sleepover tonight after shopping?”

“With movies?”

“Nothing sappy,” she says. “I’m not in the mood to cry. Action. I want to see shit being blown up.”

And right then, that sounds like a pretty damn perfect evening to me.

9

After stuffing our faces at Haru Sushi & Roll Cafe and emptying our wallets at the Beverly Center, Jamie and I settle in with a blender full of tequila, frozen limeade, and just a splash of Cointreau. We already had sake with dinner, and we’re both tipsy enough to sing along with the Christmas-themed rap song at the beginning of Die Hard.

We’re right at the point when Bruce Willis is making fists with his toes in the bathroom when Jamie’s phone rings. She glances at it, then squeals and jumps off the bed before running to her room for privacy.

Bryan Raine, I presume.

I debate continuing with the movie—for all I know, she’s going to stay on the phone with him all night—when my own phone rings. I don’t bother looking at the screen; I just tap the button on my headset and answer the call. “Justin?”

“Are you okay?”

It takes me a minute to realize what he’s talking about. The paparazzi. “How is it you know every little thing that happens to me? Did you task a satellite? Are there tiny transmitters hidden in the clothes you’ve bought me?”

“Every person in the world with a smartphone and a social media account saw pictures of you today,” he says. “And, frankly, I like the satellite idea. I’ll get my aerospace division to look into that.”

“Great.”

“I asked you a question, Selena. Are you okay?”

I want to snap at him for not giving me credit for taking care of myself, but the worry in his voice is genuine. So I say simply, “Yes. I’m fine.”

“They mentioned Ashley.” His voice is as gentle as I ever heard it, and it is that tone as much as the mention of my sister that brings tears to my eyes.

“I know what you’re thinking, but it wouldn’t have mattered,” I say. “No one was around the building when I arrived. They came later. Even if Edward had driven me, he would have been long gone by then.”

“We’ll talk about it later,” he says, and though I know I should argue, I’m happy to shove the topic off into some future neverland. “Tell me about the rest of your day,” he says.

“Do I have to?”

“Not good?”

I consider the question. “Not bad, but I spent most of the day with this guy on my team named Tanner who turned out to be a backbiting little prick. Jamie thinks he’s the one who called the paparazzi.”

“And made a few suggestions about corporate espionage?” I’m surprised to hear amusement in Justin’s voice. “I must say you’re a most lovely spy.”

“You’re not pissed?”

“I’m livid,” he says. “I don’t take those kinds of accusations lightly. If your little prick initiated them, I’ll find out.”

“Oh. You sounded like you thought it was funny.”

“The situation, no. I’m merely anticipating the joy of decimating whoever started a rumor like that. I will stand for a lot of things, but corporate espionage isn’t one of them. And suggesting that my girlfriend is my spy makes it that much worse.”

I swallow. I tease Justin about the extent of his empire all the time, but sometimes I forget just how wide a net he casts and just how much power he really has. He will find out who started that rumor, be it Tanner or someone else. And I do not doubt that he’ll destroy them.

Like Ollie has said—Justin is dangerous. To his enemies, at least.

“This is not my first choice for a topic of conversation,” he says.

“Nor mine,” I say, relieved. “Tell me about your day.”

“I’d rather hear what you’re doing right now. Where are you?”

“On our bed,” I say. “Thinking of you.”

“Are you really? I can picture you,” he says. “Lying back, hair on the pillow, your naked body stretched out on top of the duvet.”

I can’t help but laugh. “As much as I love the fantasy, jeans and a ratty T-shirt are closer to the truth. Jamie’s in the other room. Which reminds me—where are you? You’re not still in Palm Springs, are you?”

“The day was interminable. I’m in the limo now, getting close to LA. I’m going to send a driver to pick you up. I want you home when I get there.” The heat from his voice is enough to melt me, and I make a little sighing noise as I lie back with my eyes closed and let the whiskey-smooth words wash over me.

“I want you in bed,” he continues. “I want you naked.”

My smile is lopsided and a little drunk. “But the bed’s here,” I remind him. I roll over and stretch my arm out across it, pretending that I’m reaching for Justin.

“The apartment,” he says. “The security desk will give you the codes to get inside. Naked, Selena. Leave your clothes in a pile by the door so I can see them when I get home. I want to know you’re inside and that you’re wet and that you’re waiting for me.”

My lips are parted, and my breathing is shallow. Little shivers of electricity race across my skin, and I close my eyes, lost to the power of his words.

“There’s wine in the fridge. Pour yourself a glass and sip it. Take it to the living room. You’ll be thinking of me, Selena, alone in my house. Alone in all those places I’ve fucked you. You’ll lie down on the couch with your wine beside you. One hand on the glass, one hand on your breast. Maybe a dab of wine on your fingertips as your hand drifts lazily over your body. You’ll be thinking of me, won’t you, baby?”

“Yes.” I can barely speak.

“Your breasts. Your nipples. The insides of your thighs. I want you wet for me, baby. A little drunk and a whole lot wet.”

“Justin.” I barely breathe his name. His words have gone to my head like the wine he wants me to drink—like the margaritas I already have drunk. My teeth graze over my lower lip, and I realize that I’m making small, gyrating movements with my hips, the pressure of the seam of my jeans against my throbbing sex taking me so very, very close.

“Do you understand?” he asks.

“Mmm.”

“And when you get my text that I’m pulling in to the garage, I want you to go in the bedroom and lie facedown on the bed. Then spread your legs. I’ll be there soon, and when I step into the bedroom the first thing I want to see is you wide open and wet for me. I’ve missed you today, Selena,” he adds, his voice a low, demanding growl. “I need to touch you. I want my hand on your cunt when you come, and I want to hold you tight as you tremble in my arms. Mostly, I want to hear you scream my name.”

I can’t help myself—I moan aloud.

“What?” Jamie calls from her bedroom. Her voice fills the apartment. And completely erases the sensual haze to which I have succumbed.

I sit up, my head throbbing with both the motion and the realization that I was very close to getting off with my best friend in the next room.

“Nothing,” I shout to her. “I’m just talking to Justin.”

“Sorry, what?” she says, poking her head out of the door. “I’m off the phone. Ready to start the movie again?”

“I—” I hesitate, drawing in a deep breath. I’m still limp and tingly simply from Justin’s words, and I want nothing more than his touch. But I’ve seen so little of Jamie lately, and now we’re in the middle of a girls’ night and—

I draw in a breath. “Hang on,” I tell Jamie. “I’m on the phone.”

“Oh. Sorry.” She disappears into the kitchen.

“You still there?” I say into the phone.

“Always.”

“Listen, what you just said, it sounds wonderful—”

“I’m very glad you think so.”

“But I can’t. Not tonight.”

There is silence.

“Justin? You there?”

“I’m here.” I can tell nothing from his tone.

“It’s just that Jamie and I are doing a girls’ night, and—”

“It’s okay,” he says, and this time I hear the emotion in his voice. There is regret, yes. But I think there is also understanding. “I’m disappointed.”

“Me, too,” I say. “You going to survive without me?” I add, trying to add some lightness.

“It will be hard,” he says, “but it’s probably for the best.”

“Thanks a lot,” I say, and laugh.

“I have a stack of reports I need to get through this weekend. If I can get through them tonight, then Saturday and Sunday are yours.”

“In that case, I have no guilt whatsoever. Go forth and review, buy, trade, or barter. Whatever it is you do to keep the Justin Stark universe from collapsing.”

“I’ll get right on that,” he says evenly. “And I’ll see you tomorrow. You can tell me all about your first day then.”

“Okay.”

“Until then,” he whispers, “think of me, touching you.”

“I always do,” I say, before we end the call.

I’m grinning as I toss my phone down beside me on the bed, and when I turn and see Jamie come back from the kitchen with a bag of chips and a bowl of salsa, I can’t help but smile even wider. “How can you even think about eating more? I’m stuffed.”

“Like anyone could be too full for chips.” She crawls back onto the bed and nods at the phone. “Did he want you to come over tonight?”

“He wanted me at the apartment when he got home from the desert,” I say. And, yeah, I’m still smiling. I may not be going, but the thought is still nice.

“Seriously?” Jamie leans over and feels my forehead.

I shrug away. “What are you doing?”

“Checking for fever. Are you ill? I thought that all Justin had to do was crook his finger and you’d come.”

“I told him we were hanging out tonight,” I say. And then, because I just can’t resist, I add, “And for the record, you’re right. He crooks his finger, and I most definitely come.”

Jamie rocks with laughter, and after another slug of margarita, I join in. We settle back against the pillows and watch as Alan Rickman joins the party. Soon Bruce is kicking butt and taking names and we’re glued to the screen. Since this is Jamie’s favorite classic action flick, I’ve seen it at least a dozen times, but I still jump when Rickman kills the boss.

Naturally, that’s when my phone rings again.

It’s Ollie.

“Hey,” I say. “What’s up?”

“Are you with Stark?”

It’s an innocent enough question, I suppose, but I stiffen anyway. “No. Why?”

He sighs, and I realize he heard the terseness in my voice. “I just didn’t want to interrupt. Swear to God.”

“Sorry. No, I’m at home.”

“Yeah? That’s cool. So would you be up for getting a drink?”

“Now?” The truth is, there was a time when I wouldn’t have hesitated. So what that I’m supposed to be in the middle of a girls’ night in? Ollie could totally come over and join the movie marathon, or we could all go out and get plastered.

But things have shifted so much between us that instead of being psyched to hang with him, I’m wary. And that saddens me. Lately, every time I see Ollie, bits of my life come crashing down around my ears. And I do not want another piece to get chipped away if I can help it.

Still, this is Ollie talking, and I’m not ready to give up on us. “Do you want to just hang?” I ask. “Or is there something you want to talk about?”

He’s silent for a moment, and I know he’s also aware of the storm clouds between us. We know each other too well. “Both,” he finally admits. “Oh, hell, Selena. This is bullshit, and you know it, too.”

I do know it, but I’m not inclined to admit it. “What is?” I say.

“Charles mentioned the party at Stark’s tomorrow,” he says, referring to Charles Maynard, his boss and the attorney who’s represented Justin for over a decade. “He just assumed I was invited, too, what with me and you being me and you.” He’s trying to be matter-of-fact, but I hear the hurt in his voice.

“Ollie—”

Beside me, Jamie shifts her attention from her iPhone to me. Apparently this one-sided conversation is more interesting than clearing out her junk email.

“I think this is the first time you’ve thrown a party that I wasn’t invited to,” Ollie says.

“I’m not the one throwing it,” I say, but the words are hollow despite their truth. If I’d asked, Justin would have let Ollie come to the party. If it was important to me, I am certain that he would have pushed his disdain aside.

But I hadn’t asked, because I understood why Justin didn’t want Ollie there. I’d chosen the man in my bed over my lifelong friend, and I do not regret the decision.

He sighs. “It’s just—look, I’m sorry, okay? I get that you’re with the guy. And, yeah, I have my issues with him, but if this means that we can’t be friends anymore …”

He trails off, and I squeeze my eyes closed tight. “I don’t want to screw up our friendship, either,” I finally say, and then I let the thought hang. As far as I’m concerned, Ollie’s the one who’s built the wall. He can damn well be the one who starts tearing it down.

“So how about it?” he asks. “Let’s go get a drink. Hang out. Make up dialogue for the people at the next table.”

I smile despite myself. When I was in college and Ollie was in law school, that was our favorite form of cheap amusement. We’d go to Magnolia Cafe or Z’Tejas in Austin and watch people at the other tables. How they moved, how they interacted. And then we’d write their dialogue, turning friends into lovers, crafting arguments, and professing profound love. We never sat close enough to find out what the people were really saying. This was all about the make-believe.

“Tonight’s kind of hard,” I say, glancing at Jamie. “But hold on a second.”

I hit the mute button on the phone and look at Jamie. “What do you think? Want to make tonight a threesome?”

“I’m not really into that kind of kink.”

I roll my eyes. “Seriously, Ollie wants to go out for drinks.”

“With both of us?” I can hear the disbelief in her voice.

“He only invited me, but if you two can’t play nice together then you shouldn’t have jumped into bed in the first place. Seriously, James. You need to get past this.”

She tosses her hands up in surrender. “Hey, fair enough. But I’m not the only one being weird. You haven’t been in the pro-Ollie camp lately, either.”

“So maybe we all three need to have an intervention. Go out. Have fun. Pretend like things are back the way they used to be.”