#if you wont even give me that or refuse to listen then fuck being polite

[inkykeiji]

all she want is payback for the way i always play that shit

characters: dabi | todoroki touya

genre: smut + angst

notes: aaaah yikes, sorry it’s so long???? the first part of a companion piece to i can take you there but baby you wont make it back; touya + reader have been fooling around for just under six months, our innocent lil good girl reader is the teeniest, tiniest bit more firm now. jealousy makes people crazy, yk how it is. touya is marginally softer for like, a second or two. | title credit: save that shit by lil peep

warnings: 18+, pseudo-incest (stepcest), public sex, cheating, drug use, generally toxic relationship (possessiveness, jealousy), size difference, dubcon if u squint i guess???, the tiniest bit of cumplay

words: 11k

synopsis:

Why can’t you just be mine? You want to ask, the words searing into your tongue, refusing to leave your lips.

“You’re gonna make yourself sick, angel,” he chastises softly, brushing your hair away from your clammy forehead as another shuddery sob rips through your chest.

“I want you,” you say instead, words garbled.

“You have me, baby,”

“All of you,”

His chest heaves with an exasperated sigh, head turning away and gazing up at the ceiling. “You have all of me, princess,”

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In early February, your parents finally tie the knot.

“Now it’ll be official,” you remember Touya whispering in your ear, the night before. “I will officially be your niichan,”

The wedding is gorgeous—elegant and classy, just like Rei herself. A wintertime wedding is so beautiful, you tell Rei as she’s busy being fawned over by several stylists, adding the finishing touches to her hair and make up. She’s absolutely stunning, a lacy ivory dress clinging delicately to her small frame, accentuating her natural curves. It glitters gracefully in the pale sunshine streaming through the large bay windows, sparkling any time she moves.

Touya doesn’t sit with his family. Their eyes sear into your flesh, although Touya keeps his stare pointedly in front of him, glaring at the alter. But you can feel their gaze on your skin, can feel their eyes travelling up your body slowly, critically, sending shivers skittering up your spine. It makes your skin crawl, both of your hands curling around Touya’s, a tangled knot of fingers resting in your lap.

You’ve never seen his other siblings before. Rei talks about them sometimes, but never when Touya’s around. You know that once every month, the three of them join Rei and your father for a family dinner, but you’ve never had the pleasure of attending.

You’d missed the first family dinner by fluke, held up late at the library studying for midterms. But every occasion after that, Touya had made absolute certain that you weren’t there. You hadn’t thought much of it the first time it happened, too enraptured and tangled up in Touya to care, grinding desperately against him in the backseat of his car as his tongue forced its way down your throat. But then it happens again, and again, and it becomes too coincidental to ignore.

“Why do we never go to those dinners with your siblings?” you’d tried to bring it up subtly the third time you guys skipped out on dinner, heart thudding in your chest and gentle voice quivering slightly.

Touya sighed, raking a hand through his hair roughly, eyes not straying from the road ahead of him. It’s complicated, he told you in a quiet voice, and you were so startled, so shocked by his sheer, unadulterated honesty, that you couldn’t find your voice, rendering you incapable of replying. Touya didn’t bother looking over at you, didn’t need to, to know that his response surprised you.

The other Todoroki’s are all strikingly beautiful—not that you expected any less. The one with pure snow-white hair and gunmetal grey eyes captures your attention the most, looking as if he’s around your age. He smirks at you when he catches your stare, giving you a small, polite nod—though you can see that tiny glint of mischief in his eye, the same glint you’ve seen in Touya’s a thousand times before. Choking on a surprised gasp, you rapidly avert your gaze, eyes snapping back to the pile of hands in your lap.

Touya notices, of course, because Touya notices everything. He doesn’t say anything, but his hand squeezes yours tightly, just a little too tight to be comforting, as his eyes dart to his siblings across the aisle, glare losing most of its heat when it meets his brother’s stare.

Tense shoulders relax, falling slowly with the measured breath he exhales as he turns back to glower at the alter.

You know other guests are staring at you—you can feel their eyes, too. You know the pair of you look more like a couple than siblings, know you should both probably put some distance between yourselves, at least try to keep some semblance of normalcy, some masquerade of a typical sibling relationship.

But Touya’s knee is bouncing, and he seems…unsure. It’s unsettling, really—Touya always seems so confident in himself—and you can almost feel the tense anxiety rolling off of him in heavy waves. So instead of scooting away from him or untangling your hands, your other palm finds a spot high on the thigh pressed tightly against yours, small fingers beginning to knead the flesh.

Sapphire eyes find yours, and he gazes down at you with an odd sense of fondness in his stare, the tiniest smile ghosting across his lips. It makes your chest swell with pride, makes you want to grab his face and crash his lips against yours, forces a tingling warmth to spread through your veins. It shouldn’t, but it does.

He barely lets you leave his side that day, keeps you glued to his body, an arm wrapped tightly around you. He’s a constant, looming, protective presence, glaring at anyone who dares to look at you for more than a second.

“Touya-nii,” you laugh a little while leaving the ceremony, watching as one of your cousins immediately averts their eyes. “That’s my cousin,”

“And I’m your brother,” he says flatly.

You suppose he has a point.

The two of you find your parents and the rest of Touya’s siblings—yours too, now, you guess—standing around a limousine, beckoning you over.

Rei begins to explain their protocol for pictures—and yes, you both have to come—but you aren’t listening. Their eyes are on you again, you can feel them, gliding up your skin, taking sharp note of the way Touya has you pressed flush against him, the way your arm is wrapped firmly around his waist, little fingers twisting in his suit jacket as your heart begins to speed up.

Touya can feel it, too, and he looks down at you in concern, his thumb caressing your shoulder, before he meets the stares of his siblings with a glare so ferocious you’re surprised it doesn’t turn them to ash on the spot.

They offer for you to ride in the limo with the rest of them, Touya cutting them off as he curtly declines their offer—no thanks, you’ll take his car instead and meet them there.

Rei tries to reason with him, but the pointed look he gives her causes her to trail off mid-sentence, holding his eyes for a moment before a sad smile settles on her face, nodding once.

       ✰          ✰          ✰

Shinjuku Gyoen is nothing short of stunning in the wintertime. It had snowed this morning, around six AM, blanketing the garden in a soft layer of pure white powder, glittering delicately in the early afternoon sun.

Wide eyes drink it in as your face presses against the glass of the car window, your breath fogging it up. There’s something so whimsical and dreamy about snow, you think, about the way it softens even the sharpest of edges, the way it makes everything look prettier.

“You’re so cute,” Touya remarks, watching you from the corner of his eye, a hint of teasing in his voice.

“I’ve never been here during the winter,” you murmur in response, still captivated by the grounds.

Rei and your father are immediately whisked away by several photographers to do their photos alone, leaving the rest of you to litter the parking lot.

But the moment they disappear from view, Touya’s got you trapped between his body and the cold metal of his car, lips moving against the shell of your ear as he whispers filthy promises, things that force soft whimpers from your lips, things that make your legs feel like they’re about to give out as heat pools deep in your belly. He knows, of course, smirks and teases you even more when he feels you squeeze your thighs together helplessly, tells you you’re his perfect little slut and vows to reward you for being so good as soon as he can.

His other siblings are staring, you try to tell him in a quiet, broken whine.

“Oh yeah?” he breathes, pushing his hips harder into yours, practically grinding his hard cock against your waist. “Let ‘em. I bet they’d love to watch me fuck you stupid, huh? What do you think about that, baby? You want them to watch?”

A pathetic sound hitches in your throat and you bury your burning face in his neck, a low, wicked laugh rumbling deep in his chest.

He doesn’t let up on the absolute filth spilling from his mouth until he can hear your father hollering in the distance, calling for the kids and waving the five of you over.

       ✰          ✰          ✰

Pictures take too long, and Touya’s antsy by the end of it, picking anxiously at his cuticles as his knee bounces. He’s hauling you out of there the moment you’re officially released, a strong hand wrapped tightly around your wrist. You can hear his mother calling for him, and you look back at her desperately, mirroring her worried frown.

He doesn’t even wait for the rest of them to pile into the limo and leave, immediately rooting through his pockets the moment he’s in the safety of his own car, pulling out a little baggie of white powder. He can feel your wide eyes on him, watching his every movement, but his hands are beginning to shake, and panic is starting to rip viciously at his throat, and he just needs it all to fucking stop.

“There’s no way I could endure this shit sober,” he explains as he searches for something in the powder, cursing when he doesn’t find whatever it is he’s looking for. Frantic cobalt eyes dart around the car, landing on the glovebox, and he leans over you, hastily pulling a reflective object from the compartment.

It’s a mirror.

A tiny, circular mirror that he uses to tap out a line, fingers unsteady and breathing slightly laboured. The gentle sounds of his platinum credit card colliding with glass echo throughout the car.

Hovering over the small mirror, he pauses, a finger pressed to his nostril. He almost wants to tell you to look away, almost does, but he knows you’d disobey either way.

He doesn’t like doing drugs in front of you—you’re too precious, too pure and innocent and he doesn’t want you around anything that could potentially tarnish that. But he also can’t stand that look you get in your eyes, almost like you’re scared of him, on the rare occasions that you have caught him.

He nearly snaps at you when you quietly ask if you can help, if he needs someone to hold the mirror steady, currently balancing on the center console compartment, but you’ve got that goddamn look in your eyes, wide and terrified.

No, he says sternly, telling you that he doesn’t even want you near this stuff, much less touching it.

But cocaine highs don’t last long, he explains to you when you ask about the little round white pills clacking together in his pocket. You’re positive he shouldn’t be mixing drugs like that, positive that your apprehension and disapproval are written clearly across your face, based on the simmering look he shoots at you.

Don’t fucking start.

So you don’t. You swallow down your worries and sit nice and pretty and good for him, just like you’re supposed to.

       ✰          ✰          ✰

He only leaves you twice, briefly, throughout the entire night. The first is almost immediately after you enter the reception venue.

Depositing you near the head table, he tells you to stay put before he hurries away. You know where he’s going, what he’s about to do, an odd ache taking root and throbbing deep in your chest.

He’d scold you if he could see you, able to read your expressions like a fucking book, would tell you not to cry for him—he doesn’t need your pity. The words cut through your mind in a snarl, and you work hard to rid your face of the frown marring it; he’s already having such a difficult time today, and the last thing you want to do is upset him more with your concern.

Distraction, you need a distraction. Wide eyes scan the extravagant ballroom, all shimmering golds and beiges and crystal chandeliers, searching in a frenzy for something—anything—to rid your mind of images of pretty boys with inky hair and white, white, white.

You swear you hear your name, then Touya’s, hissed out in a sharp whisper, and your gaze lands on a small group of people not too far from you, with snow and fire for hair—the other Todoroki’s, huddled in a loose circle.

The air around you just feels off, you catch his sister saying in a low but frantic voice, eyes darting between her brothers. She sounds worried about you, you think, and it makes you feel weird. She shouldn’t be worried about you; Touya takes fantastic care of you. It isn’t any of their business anyway, you can almost hear Touya sneering in your head, and he’s right. You know he’s right.

Her brothers don’t look too keen on discussing the subject, especially the youngest, who keeps pulling at his collar and fidgeting with his cufflinks.

“Well, why don’t you go and tell her that yourself,” the one with white hair says, grey eyes connecting with yours. She whirls around quickly, mouth snapping shut when she finds your face. Her lips morph into a smile half a second later, and she waves you over.

You avert your eyes, hands tangling nervously in front of you. No. You shouldn’t go. You really, really shouldn’t go. Touya told you to stay put, and you can’t bear to think—don’t even want to consider—how furious he’d be if he found that not only had you moved, but you had moved to talk to his siblings.

You must spend too much time deliberating, though, looking back up to find them advancing towards you, only a few feet away. Your heart’s pounding almost violently in your chest, breath accelerating with each step closer.

“Hi,” she’s saying warmly as she reaches you, causing you to subconsciously take a step back. “We haven’t had a chance to meet. I’m Fuyumi,”

You want to say your name, to introduce yourself politely, but your lips are sealed shut, only able to manage a small sound of affirmation.

“Shouto,” the youngest says, cold heterochromatic eyes glancing at you for a moment before looking away. “M’Shouto,”

“I’m Natsuo,” the man with white hair smirks down at you, eyes burning into yours.

Some of your anxiety melts away as you meet his stone eyes; there’s something comforting about the way that he has Touya’s smirk, Touya’s mischievous glint to his gaze, Touya’s playful lilt to his voice.

You feel like you can breathe again when you’re looking at Natsuo, so you keep your stare directed at him as you stutter out your name, gazing up at him through your lashes.

“You always miss the family dinners,” Natsuo accuses with a knowing smirk, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “Y’know, eventually, our parents are going to catch on,”

Your blood turns to ice in your veins, chills crawling on your skin. He knows?

And he says it so nonchalantly, so casually, as if he’s discussing the weather and not the fact that Touya deliberately kidnaps you to fuck your brains out in his car every single time they gather for one of those dinners. Fuyumi and Shouto look over at him with brows furrowed in confusion, but you choke on a gasp, coughing a little and nodding.

Touya returns then, saving you from having to respond.

“What’s wrong?” he’s asking immediately as his hands find purchase on your hips, pulling you back against his chest and wrapping his arms around you. A soft sigh leaves your lips as you lean on him, heart finally beginning to slow.

“N-Nothing, niichan,” you wrap your arms around his, hugging them to your chest, and he squeezes you in reassurance.

“You sure, baby?” Sapphire eyes search your face as you tilt your head back to look up at him, scanning for any sign of distress.

He shouldn’t be using that pet name here, not in front of his blood siblings, not loud enough that any of the passing guests can hear him with ease.

He shouldn’t.

But that doesn’t stop it from sending sparks skittering up your spine, heat beginning to coil in your tummy. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t love it, if you said you didn’t get some sort of twisted satisfaction at the loud gasp that leaves Fuyumi’s chest, or the sharp intake of breath Shouto chokes on, coughing as he tries to cover it up, all at the drop of that one, simple, four letter word.

Touya loves it, too—you can see it in the way his smirk grows into a full smile, a grin big enough to crinkle the edges of his eyes, can see it in his gaze, in the way his cobalt eyes almost sparkle at their reactions.

Your gaze flits back to the three people standing in front of you—your step-siblings, your mind corrects—eyes gliding over their faces slowly.

Natsuo looks thoroughly entertained, a stupid little grin stretched across his face, amusement dancing in his eyes. Fuyumi and Shouto, on the other hand, look thoroughly uncomfortable, shifting a little in place, their faces screwed up with poorly masked disgust.

Touya’s smile drops the moment he looks back at them. Azure eyes scan the faces of his siblings cautiously, giving Natsuo one quick, sharp nod of acknowledgment before his gaze lands on the youngest. And the glare Touya gives him is nothing short of terrifying, practically snarling at the boy, a rough, dangerous sound that gets lodged deep in his chest. It makes the boy cower away, shuffling ever-so-slightly closer to his sister, who shakily glares back.

Lips tugging down into a frown, you look up at Touya, forehead creasing in confusion. He’s still glowering at the kid, eyes narrowing just a little before he huffs and turns away, leaving without speaking a word to any of them.

“Don’t you ever talk to them again,” he’s murmuring as he whisks you away, something malicious in his voice. “You’re my little sister,”

You nod obediently, promising him that you won’t, reassuring him that you didn’t even want to as you relay the entire situation. But he can see it, the curiosity swirling in your eyes, a question dancing on your tongue.

Because although Touya appears to be on seriously awful terms with his younger siblings, Natsuo seems to be some sort of exception. From the interaction you just witnessed, you’re able to deduce that something, some line of communication, must be present between Touya and Natsuo, evident in their shared looks and swift, discreet nods.

He sighs, irritation coating his voice as he demands that you spit it out already.

It makes you jump a little, but the words come tumbling out of your mouth the moment he commands them to, powerless to disobey a direct order.

“Does that include Natsuo?”

Your voice is so tiny that he barely hears you, brows knitting together. There’s an odd look in his eye as he observes you—something that isn’t quite jealousy, but close to it—nose twitching a little as he considers.

“Alone, yes,” he finally says. “With me around it’s fine, I guess. But you are not to speak to him alone, do you hear me?”

Yes, niichan, of course, niichan.

       ✰          ✰          ✰

Dinner is absolute torture, and the two of you can barely keep your hands off of each other. It starts innocently enough, discreetly enough, with palms on thighs, fingers brushing down arms, hands interlaced under the table. But the need to touch grows, and grows, and grows, these simple actions too teasing to satisfy that dull burning in the pit of your stomach, flaring a little more each time his fingers press into your thigh, or his thumb runs across your knuckles.

And you shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t start acting up now, not while the two of you are seated at the head table, looking out amongst the guests—a few months ago, you would’ve never thought to do something so indecent, so dangerous, in such a public place. But you just can’t help it, you’re getting restless now, brain going hazy with thoughts of him as your fingers trail up his thigh and ghost over his lap.

“Getting bold, are we, princess?” his hand catches your wrist, holding your palm in place and grinding up into it. His voice is low, head tipped towards you, sapphire eyes dark. A breath catches in your throat and he smirks, an evil little quirk up of his lips, raising an eyebrow at you in expectation.

You’re lucky they’re seated in a straight line instead of a circle, he murmurs in your ear, Natsuo snickering beside him. “Imagine what your daddy would think if he could see you, acting like such a desperate little slut in front of all of these people,”

A soft, broken moan escapes your lips without your permission, thighs squeezing together in an attempt to combat the heat pooling in your panties. Someone down the line of the table says something, but you’re too enticed by Touya to hear them, your father writing off whatever the remark was with an easygoing smile.

“Oh, those two are always in their own little world,” you hear him dismiss, voice sounding muddled and distant.  

“Be a good girl and sit still,” Touya growls in your ear, grip tightening to near bruising.

“But niichan,” you whine, much too loud, gazing at him with glazed, blown eyes. “Niichan,” you repeat, leaning forward to whimper in his ear, fingers flexing around the bulge in his trousers. “N-Need you,”

“If you can’t behave, niichan won’t let you cum later,” he breathes, though his voice is stern, heavy with the weight of the threat.

A pout forms on your lips as he releases your wrist, firmly placing your hand back in your lap and holding it there for a moment, a silent warning for your wandering fingers to stay put.

But he’s up and out of his chair the instant dinner’s over, moving so quick his seat wobbles a little as he grasps your hand tightly in his, practically yanking you up and dragging you along behind him.

The best thing about these fancy venues, he’s telling you as he strides through the halls, cerulean eyes searching for something, is that they have single person washrooms.

The granite is cold on your cheek as Touya shoves you up against the wall, head bouncing a little as it whacks against it.

You whine and he laughs, a cruel, piercing sound echoing off the walls.

“Aw, baby,” he coos contemptuously. “Did that hurt?”

“Y-Yes,” you whimper, eyes squeezing shut against the throbbing pain radiating through your cheek.

“Poor little thing,” he hisses, lips against your ear as his hands begin to bunch up your dress, gliding over your silk covered thighs, hands fisting in the material as he goes. Pushing it up around your waist, he leans back, hands travelling over the globes of your ass and kneading hard enough to make you cry out.

“You’re a slutty little brat, y’know that?”

Deft fingers hook in the waistband of your thong, all delicate baby pink lace, Touya snickering about how much of a whore you are, wearing such skimpy, slutty panties, as he lets the elastic snap back against your skin.

A little shocked gasp escapes your lips as he begins tugging the dainty fabric down your thighs—you had expected him to merely push them to the side, but he forces you to take them off entirely, stuffing the soaked material in his pocket.

“You think you can just tease niichan like that and get away with it?”

“No,” you whisper, shaking your head against the wall.

“No,” he murmurs, hips grinding against your bare ass. “Good girls don’t tease their niichans without delivering, do they?”

“No,”

“On your knees,” he orders, spinning you around and stepping back just enough to allow you to sink to the floor. “Get my cock wet,”

Little fingers work quickly, eager to obey, as they undo his pants, practically salivating as you free his cock from its confines.

“Your cock’s so pretty, niichan,” you breathe, eyes glittering with pure, potent desire as you take it in your hands, tongue darting out to trace the prominent veins.

“No teasing,” he growls, a hand knotting in your hair. “I wanna see you choke on it,”

You nod as best you can, mouth instantly falling open, reduced to nothing more than a wet, warm little hole for him to stuff.

And then he’s shoving it down your throat, the hand fisted in your hair holding your head still, and you gag around it almost immediately, working to force you jaw open even more.

“That’s it, that’s my good girl,” he rasps out, voice echoing off the walls of the washroom.

The praise has your heart soaring, has you sucking hard around him as he thrusts into your mouth, coating his cock in thick saliva and desperate to hear more. It’s intoxicating, every quiet moan you manage to pull from him, every breathless good girl that falls from his lips, makes you feel lightheaded and heady and dizzy for more.

His hips pump a few more times before he’s pulling you off his cock completely, devious smirk forming on his lips at your whine of protest, and commanding you to go bend over the sink.

Calloused hands are bunching your dress up around your waist again, toe of his shoe kicking at your inner ankles and forcing your feet further apart.

He doesn’t bother stretching you out, not because he doesn’t have the time to, but because he simply doesn’t want to. It’s truly one of his favourite things, to see tears fill your eyes while his cock stretches your cute little pussy, and he knows you love it too, don’t you?

Yes, niichan, of course you do.

His cock glistens with your saliva, sufficiently wet that it slides in easily enough, with minimal pain for him. And the soft groan he lets out as he watches your little hole struggle to take him, paired with your sweet little whimpers of his name, is nothing short of gorgeous.

It has your pussy fluttering around him, pulling a breathless chuckle from his lips as he fills you to the hilt, hips pressed against your ass.

And then doesn’t fucking move.

Your brow furrows, eyes meeting his in the mirror. You try to fuck yourself back on him, but he’s too quick, hands stilling your hips immediately and tutting in disapproval.

“Niichan,” you whimper. “N-Niichan, please fuck me,”  

“Do you think you deserve it?” he’s asking, tongue tracing the shell of your ear as he holds your gaze through the mirror. “After the way you behaved at dinner?”

“M’sorry,” you whine, wiggling back against him, his fingers digging into your flesh as he stops them, grip tightening. “Couldn’t help it, wanted you so bad,”

“Of course you couldn’t,” he smirks, hips starting to move slowly, teasingly, stilling after only three simple thrusts. A hand reaches down and finds your clit, forcing a gasp from you as his thumb brushes over it, back and forth, back and forth, featherlight grazes that have you arching back into him, trying to press further into his touch.

“Think you can cum just like this for me?” he asks, beginning to thrust shallowly again, just enough to have the head of his cock dragging against that spot buried deep inside your cunt, that spot he knows so well, then nudging your cervix. “Hmm?”

“Mhmm,” you nod, breath starting to come out in short little pants.

“Then do it,” he demands in a whisper, eyes still holding yours. “Show niichan how pretty you look, cumming all over his cock,”

And the combination of his deep, rough voice rumbling against your back as praises tumble from his lips, his thumb and cock, and the fact that anyone within a fifteen foot radius of this washroom could probably hear you, has you cumming within minutes with a sharp cry of Touya-nii!  

Touya laughs at how pathetically quickly you came, about how easy it is to have you creaming on his cock, heat seeping into your cheeks as you try to look away.

“My turn,” he breathes, yanking your head back up by your hair, fingers finding root in the intricate updo that has begun to fall apart. “And I wanna see your face as I fuck you, so keep your damn head up,”

And then he’s slamming into you with enough vigour to propel you forward, face pressed against the mirror, toes barely touching the ground. Every moan and whimper and mewl he forces from your throat fogs up the glass, leaving tiny glistening drops of condensation as they fade.

You’re trying so hard to keep your eyes open, to watch him as he fucks you, because he always looks so damn pretty.  

He’s stupidly attractive, with his shirtsleeves rolled halfway up his forearms, first few buttons undone and collar popped, revealing his sharp collarbone, smooth ivory skin stretched taut across it. Ebony hair clings to his forehead and neck delicately, coated in sweat, and he’s emitting the most glorious noises, heavy pants and little broken whines, peppered with praise.

Nails bite into your flesh as he holds you in place, hips snapping relentlessly, your fingers curling around the porcelain sink.

“You want niichan’s cum?” he growls in your ear, eyes burning into yours. You whimper in response, nodding against the mirror. “Yeah? Then fucking beg for it.”

Pleads are spilling from your lips immediately, nothing but senseless babbling as he pounds into you.

“Please, niichan, please, need it, your cum, stuff me with your cum,”

“That’s it,” he gasps, voice hoarse. “I want every single person in this godforsaken hall to hear you, I want every single person to know how much of—” he cuts himself off with a shuddery curse. “—How much of a slut my baby sister is,”

“Pretty please,” you whine out the words, eyes rolling back in your head. “Fill me up with your cum, niichan, I-I want it,”

His hips still just as your cunt clenches around him, cockhead pressed tightly against your cervix as he fills you with hot, thick ropes of cum.

He pulls out a few moments later, and you uncurl your fingers from around the rim of the sink, wincing at your appearance; lips bitten raw, hair beginning to fall from it’s elegant style, body covered in a thin layer of sweat.

You look back at him to find him already staring at you, expectantly, impatiently, hands jittery as he quirks his head towards the door.

“We can’t leave together,” he says, as if it’s obvious, even though you stumbled into the washroom together twenty minutes ago.

He needs more.

You nod, slow and dumb, staggering a little on your trembling legs. Grasping the doorknob you pause, turning to look at him again.

“What?” he asks as he searches through his pockets, not bothering to glance at you. He can feel your eyes on him.

“Um...” you shift nervously from foot to foot, lip caught between your teeth.

He looks over at you sharply, brows rising as if to ask why are you still here?

“M-My panties, niichan,”

Oh.

A wicked smirk spreads across his face, eyes twinkling, brows relaxing.

“What about them?”

“Well, I—I can’t return to the reception without them,”

“Oh, and why not?”

You pause, blinking a few times, at a loss for words. Why not? Because you can feel his cum beginning to trickle out of you, mixing with your juices and dribbling down your inner thigh?

“Exactly,” he says, when you take too long to reply. “Now be a good little girl and go. I’ll be out soon,”

       ✰          ✰          ✰

You don’t go back into the ballroom, terrified that you’ll be ambushed by his—your—siblings again. Collapsing in one of the plush chairs, you cross your quivering legs tightly in a desperate attempt to keep the cum oozing out of you from getting on your dress.

People are looking again, probably think you’re drunk based on the way you teetered over to the seat, or the way your hair’s begun to come undone from it’s intricate updo, wispy strands framing your face.

He returns from the washroom only a few minutes later, eyes finding you immediately. There’s a stupid, smug smirk on his face, thinks it’s so cute that he fucked you so good you can’t walk, can’t even get up, that you need your niichan to help you.

A pout forms on your lips, eyebrows furrowing. “Not funny,”

“Very funny,” he chuckles as his hands snake under your armpits, hauling you to your feet. You stumble a little, bumping into him and he laughs again, wrapping a sturdy arm around your waist and propping you up against him.

“Alright, let’s get this over with,”

“Oh, niichan,” you murmur and he pauses, glancing over at you. You reach up, your thumb swiping across his nose to collect excess white powder.

“Thanks,” he breathes, winking at you. You hum noncommittally, about to rub your thumb across his white dress shirt to clean it when he catches your hand, bringing your thumb to his lips and licking it instead.

It isn’t discreet. It’s slow and deliberate, tongue sticking out of his mouth, flattening it against your thumb and dragging it up, from base to tip. You’re sure someone saw that, but you can’t be bothered to care, not when another bout of intense heat rushes to your core, forcing you to squeeze your legs together, trying in vain to keep Touya’s cum from seeping out, from your juices traveling down your leg. A soft whimper leaves your lips, breathing beginning to accelerate as your eyes bore into his, now half-lidded and dark. He holds your gaze for a moment before something snaps.

“We need to go,” he says, voice firm with no room for negotiation. “Now.”

And, God, his voice is rough and raw and fucking dripping with desire. It’s got you nodding before he’s even finished speaking, a flock of butterflies invading your stomach at the downright sinful grin he gives you in response. Such a good girl for him.

Despite the fact that you’ve barely recovered from your previous orgasm, you nearly moan at his look alone, the urge to kiss him burning through your veins and alighting your entire body in direct juxtaposition to the shivers his eyes just sent rippling across your skin. The insatiable need overwhelms your senses, and it’s dangerous. It’s dangerous, how captivated he has you, entirely wrapped around his slim finger and hanging on his every word, how you’re positive that, in that moment, you’d do anything he asked.

You wobble awkwardly in your heels, legs still shaking and having trouble keeping up with Touya’s swift pace. You’re about to ask him to slow down just a little so you don’t break an ankle, when you bump into your father.

Who just so happens to provide you with the perfect excuse to leave early. You can practically see the gears clicking into place in Touya’s mind, sapphire eyes glittering as a sinister smirk spreads across his face.

Your father’s eyes widen as he observes your appearance, strands of hair sticking to your clammy face and eyes half-lidded, chapped lips beginning to crack, leaning heavily against Touya and seemingly too weak to stand on your own.

“Hi dad,” you greet hoarsely, wincing a little at how grating your voice sounds.

He frowns immediately. “Jesus, sweetheart, are you feeling alright? You look…” he trails off, forehead wrinkling with worry.

“Oh, she’s not feeling too good,” Touya says softly, smoothly, just the right amount of concern and compassion in his tone.

“Oh no,” your father breathes, frown deepening. “That’s terrible,” he clicks his tongue with a shake of his head. “Do you think you’ll be able to tough out the rest of the reception?”

You begin to croak out an answer, but Touya speaks over you.

“She’s burning up, sir,” he informs him, and it isn’t a lie—not exactly, anyway. Technically, if your father were to feel your forehead, your body temperature would be above average, a result of Touya fucking the absolute life out of you a mere ten minutes ago.

Touya looks down at you with painfully sympathetic eyes, but you can still see that little glint of mischief, buried under all of that artificial benevolence.

“Maybe I should take her home?” Touya muses, looking back at your father, mimicking his anxiety effortlessly.

“Mm,” he hums in agreement. “I think that’s the best thing to do,” his eyes dart to yours. “You really don’t look well,”

Oh, you’re sure you don’t. Resting a little more against Touya, you play up the symptoms a bit, whimpering quietly as little fingers twist in his shirt, nuzzling your face against his side. A soft noise of endearment sounds at the back of his throat, large hands readjusting your body to support you better.

Another whimper falls from your lips, but this time it isn’t from pretending you’re ill. You can feel his cum leaking out of you, slimy and cool as it drips down your inner thigh, and a sick thrill shoots through your body, abused cunt throbbing greedily.

Rei comes up behind your father then, wrapping her arms around his midsection and resting her chin on his shoulder, eyes flitting between the two of you carefully.

“What’s going on? Is everything okay?”

“I’m gonna bring this little princess home,” Touya explains, nodding his head at you in indication as he speaks. “She isn’t feeling very well, poor thing,”

And it’s scary, scary how terrific he is at lying, how easily he slips into that niichan role, the one painstakingly crafted and flawlessly maintained around your parents, the one he’s perfected at this point.

Rei doesn’t say much, only cooing in sympathy, remarking that it’s such a shame, but your father’s eyes soften. “Such a good big brother,” he praises, clapping a hand on Touya’s shoulder.

Touya has to consciously work to smother the smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he responds.

“You have no idea,”  

       ✰          ✰          ✰

Your parents don’t come home that night, opting to go straight to the airport from the venue, embarking on their honeymoon immediately.

It’s nice, playing house with Touya, having the entire place completely to yourselves. He’s been home an awful lot these past few weeks, more than he ever has in the past, and you get to experience things you never could before.

Every morning and every night, you cook breakfast and dinner together. You go grocery shopping together, wash the dishes together, fold the laundry together, all while stealing kisses in between; little domestic things you didn’t really do with your parents around.

You spend every night that they’re away in his bed, being fucked into his mattress, surrounded by the smell of him—campfire and Marlboros and expensive cologne—absolutely full of him in every sense.

You wake up in the mornings with his hand between your legs, playing with your cute little clit, or his cock pressed against your ass, grinding until you wake up. You have sleepy, slow morning sex while you’re both still half asleep, and it’s the most gentle he’s ever been. It consists of lazy, sloppy, messy thrusts against each other, hips meeting halfway—just grinding until he gets too impatient, though he usually lets you cum two or three times before he finally flips you over, trapping you under his body and slamming his hips into you, growling and grunting, your legs pushed up and folded on either side of you.

You get to fuck in the kitchen—not that you hadn’t before, but this time you get to take it slow. He eats you out while you sit on the counter and then fucks you into oblivion and it’s nasty, it’s disgusting, it’s so good. He cums so much that it’s leaking out of you, onto the counter, his chest heaving as he observes it with an odd little smile and a soft “fuck,”

And you get to fuck in the bathtub, that big jacuzzi in your parents room, water and bubbles sloshing around as you bounce on his cock, loud cries echoing off the walls.

It’s going great, until the last weekend of the honeymoon, a mere few days before your parents are supposed to return.

       ✰          ✰          ✰

A party.

Keigo tries to talk him out of it, tries to at least talk him out of letting you stay.

“She shouldn’t be here,” you hear Keigo hiss under his breath as guests begin to fill the house, Touya snorting in retort.

Keigo doesn’t think you should be around any of this at all—there’s no reason you should have to witness this shit, you catch him growling, gold eyes blazing. No, not a poor innocent babygirl like you, this isn’t the place for you.

But Touya’s too stubborn, too selfish to let Keigo take you out for the night. He knows he’s right, would rather not have you around these people, but he doesn’t have a fucking choice. The thought of you being out of his sight, out with another man, has anxiety rising in his throat, panic clawing at his chest.

As a result, you spend the entirety of the party being passed between Touya and Keigo. There are so many girls here, so many people you don’t know, wide eyes scanning the living room as your fingers twist in Keigo’s hoodie.

Niichan’s busy, Touya tells you, when you ask why you can’t just stay with him, when you ask where he keeps disappearing off to. Niichan’s working, don’t you know? Be a good girl and stay with Kei.

You can tell that Keigo isn’t happy about it. He coos softly when you timidly ask if he’s upset that he’s stuck babysitting you all night, in the middle of an apology when he cuts you off.

“It isn’t your fault, songbird,” he murmurs, gentle fingers tracing the curve of your face.

He’s even angrier at Touya when he takes that first girl back to his room, because the look on your face—the way it crumples accompanied by a soft, hurt sound caught at the back of your throat—kills him.

And it isn’t like you don’t know about his side whores. You do. They’re customers, he had snapped at you, the only time you had ever asked about it. But it’s an entirely different thing to actually have to witness it with your own eyes.

You can’t help the flare of jealousy that rises in your chest every time he takes a girl by the hand and leads them to his bedroom. It stings, burns, feels like a fire’s been lit in your chest, filling your lungs with dense smoke and making it hard for you to breathe.

Keigo tries his best to distract you, gentle fingers on your cheeks turning your face towards him, golden eyes softening in sympathy. He keeps you as preoccupied as he can, but it still isn’t enough. Your eyes are drawn to Touya every time he’s in the room—an automatic, instinctual reaction you couldn’t control even if you wanted to.

And every time you watch a girl giggle into his ear, or hop up with him, that fire smoldering in your chest blazes, rages, has you wheezing and hissing and pressing a palm flat against yourself, a desperate attempt to get the pain to stop.

Tomura’s here, too, though he’s sitting in a shrouded corner on his phone, the light from the screen reflected on his pale face, colours flashing intermittently. He looks absorbed with whatever he’s doing on there—probably playing a game, Keigo tells you, but why are you interested, anyway?

You don’t know, you aren’t sure, you can’t exactly put it into words. He terrifies you, but he sparks a morbid curiosity in you, too. He’s so silent, private, almost inobtrusive; and yet Touya never lets you anywhere near him. Your eyes keep flitting his way, as if trying to will something to happen, staring at him longingly and hoping he’ll look up from his phone for a split second and catch your gaze, that he’ll somehow magically get the hint that you’re desperate and dying to talk to him, and take the first step.

But it doesn’t happen.

Touya is thoroughly unimpressed each and every time he finds you sitting on Keigo’s knee or lap, leaning back against his chest as he speaks with that easygoing lilt that is so distinctly him, but there isn’t much he can do. The third time he returns to take you from his friend he can tell you’re beginning to get tired, can see it in your eyes, in the way you’re cuddling into a warm chest. He debates sending you to bed right then and there, but you protest, little hands tangling in Keigo’s hoodie.

“Aw, she’s alright for a little more, isn’t she?”

Touya’s sharp jaw clenches twice and he exhales slowly through his nose, eyes darting between your faces.

“Fine,” he says, although it doesn’t seem fine.

And you are exhausted, straddling Keigo’s hips, face pressed into his shoulder and hot breath evening out softly against his neck. Fingers ghost up and down your spine nonchalantly as Keigo talks softly to the people around him, his laugh vibrating against your chest and filling you with an odd, tingly sensation, a warmth that seeps through your body. You snuggle a little closer to him and he coos, readjusting you in his lap and wrapping an arm around your waist, holding you tightly to him.

“Don’t wanna go to bed with him,” you whisper, words muffled by his skin.

Keigo hums in question, squeezing you once. “Who, songbird?” he presses his lips to your ear as inconspicuously as he can, lidded gold eyes lazily scanning the room for your brother. “Touya?”

You nod sluggishly, little fingers curling in his hoodie, a silent plea not to let you go.

“Aw, don’t be like that,” Keigo says softly with a small chuckle, but it sounds off to your ears—sad, even.

“Don’t wanna,” you repeat, pout evident in your voice. “Wanna stay with you,”

You wouldn’t have noticed the way his chest hitches at those four words if you weren’t pressed flush against it. But you feel it, feel his breath getting caught in his throat, reverberating against you as he clears it quietly. Unexpected guilt sours your mouth, makes your stomach turn to a block of heavy lead, weighting your body down.

“You know you can’t, sweetheart,” he finally responds, voice cracking just a bit, right on that last word. “Don’t hurt your niichan like that, he loves you,”

No he doesn’t, you want to say, but you can’t seem to force the words from your mouth, opting to shake your head instead, eyes shutting tightly against the burn of tears.

“He does,” Keigo says, more sternly this time. “Don’t doubt that,”

But you’re not so sure. If Touya loved you—really loved you—would he have disappeared no less than three times tonight, each with a different girl, leading them into his bedroom with those dark glittering sapphire eyes while they gaze up at him like he hung the fucking moon himself?

Honestly, is that even a question you want answered?

You keep your face buried in Keigo’s chest to block it out, to keep yourself from watching your big brother as he flits around the room, handing out discreet baggies in exchange for ridiculous wads of cash and talking in hushed voices, in code, to men who look much too old to be at a house party.

Eventually, Touya returns to retrieve you, bending down and speaking softly.

“It’s time for bed, princess,” A hand pets your head, and you flinch away.

“Hey,” you feel the couch dip beside you as he sits down. “Look at me,”

You’re shaking your head, trying in vain to press even closer to Keigo, but that doesn’t stop Touya from reaching out and gripping your chin, forcing you to face him.

Crystal eyes search your face carefully, wide and alert—he always works sober, you found out. He can tell you’re upset, can see it written plain as day across your face, eyes glassy with your lips set in a deep pout, eyebrows pushed together. Exhaling harshly, he closes his eyes, fingers rubbing at his eyes in exasperation.

“C’mon,” he says lowly, wrapping a hand around your bicep and tugging as he stands.

“No,” you nearly growl, shaking your head and viciously pulling your arm from his grip.

Touya stares at you for a moment, like he cannot believe you just had the audacity to tell him no, before he speaks, an incredulous laugh bubbling up from his chest. “What did you just say?”

Keigo’s sitting up straighter now, more alert as your body subconsciously curls into his chest, cowering away from your big brother. “Y-You heard me,”

Snorting in disbelief, Touya raises his eyebrows as his tongue runs along the front of his teeth, huffing out the remnants of a chuckle before his smile drops completely, blue fire blazing in his dark eyes.

“Get up,” he snarls, hand in a vice grip around your arm as he yanks harshly. The force of it has you practically falling off Keigo’s lap, though Touya catches you roughly before your knees hit the hardwood, hoisting you up by your arm to stand on unsteady feet.

“Move.” He instructs, giving you a shove in the vague direction of his bedroom. “Now.”

His chest bumps into your back and you stumble forward, yelping softly. He keeps pushing like this, strong hand clasping your shoulder so tightly you’re sure you’ll have five little bruises in the shape of his fingerprints in the morning, driving you to walk with the sheer force of his body.

“No,” your whispering, trying desperately to turn back and look at him as you approach his door, tears flooding your eyes, frantically shaking your head and trying your damnedest to plant your feet, heels digging into the floor in an attempt to stop him from pushing you forward.

“You really gonna say no to me a second time tonight? In less than fifteen minutes? You think that’s wise, baby?”

You don’t—of course you don’t. It’s probably one of the stupidest things you could do, in this situation.

But even though you know, know this isn’t a smart move, know you shouldn’t be testing him like this—challenging him like this, especially in front of so many people—you’re powerless to control the words that tumble from your lips next.

“I don’t want to sleep in a bed that’s been infested by your whores,”

They come out as a hiss—you don’t mean for them to, but they do, voice quivering under the combined weight of your fury and fear.

That gets him to stop, entire body going rigid. Icy dread rushes through your veins, panic clawing its way up your throat, forcing uneven breaths through your parted lips. Squeezing your eyes shut tightly, you brace yourself for the impact of his bellowing voice, shoulders tensing in anticipation for the blow, for him to really snap.

Except then he starts laughing, his hand relaxing around your shoulder, spinning you around to face him as he backs you up against his bedroom door, caging you in with his body.

“That’s what this is about?”

Eyebrows furrowing, you blink twice in disbelief, prompting hot tears to finally spill over. “I—Wh-Why are you laughing?”

“Because you’re being silly, princess,”

It hurts, stings like three massive spikes just shot through your heart, causes a tiny whimper to sound from deep in your throat, chest hiccupping with pathetic little half-sobs.

“Sil…Silly?” Time feels as if it’s slowed, your sluggish brain having trouble comprehending the situation unfolding.

His lips pull down into a frown, eyes narrowing slightly as he regards you with extreme precision. “Yeah,” he says, but his voice sounds far away, muffled, like you’re underwater and he’s speaking to you from above the surface. “Hey—”

Your head’s shaking again, in slow, delayed motions from side to side. “No,” you whisper. “No.”

You feel nauseous, and the proximity of his presence is only making it worse, making you feel like you could hurl at any moment. Little hands find purchase on his chest and push, stomach lurching painfully as your head spins.

He catches your wrists easily, holding them together in one large hand, his other coming to grip your chin and force you to look at him.

Thick silence settles between the two of you as Touya’s eyes study your face slowly, noting the tears flowing steadily down your face, the way your breath stutters with sobs you’re so desperately trying to hold back, the way your entire body trembles.

“Are you seriously upset over this?” he asks, laughing a little.

Your gaze holds his, tears casting a thick, gleaming screen across your eyes.

“Yes, Touya,” you whisper, wishing your voice didn’t sound as small and weak as it does. “I’m seriously upset,”

That’s the first time you’ve used his first name—just his first name, void of any honorific—in a long, long time.

It gets him to pause again, his usual and well-worn mask of passivity melting away for just a second as shock crosses his face. Then his features are hardening again, brows knitting together and creasing his forehead, eyes narrowing into near slits.

“Don’t be fucking stupid,” he spits harshly, the words cutting into your flesh. “You know none of them mean a thing,”

“Then why do you fuck around with them?” you shoot back almost immediately, voice fading into a whisper.

He glares at you, as if you’re wasting his precious time with such childish questions when he’s told you this already, and you can see the blue fire simmering in his eyes.

“It’s late,” he says curtly, voice sounding off to you. “You need sleep.”

You try to fight him on it, but he’s too quick, reflexes too swift, and he shoves you into his room, door slamming shut less than a second later.

Tears obstruct your vision as you stumble around, finally finding his desk chair and collapsing heavily. You don’t even bother trying to open the door, know it’s locked without having to hear that soft click! as the lock turns into place.

He’s right—it is late, well past three in the morning, and you are utterly exhausted, drawing your knees up to your chest and curling up in the plush chair.

But no matter how tired you are, you absolutely refuse to sleep in his bed. The party’s dying down, you can hear Touya’s muffled farewells as guests begin to leave while you fade in and out of consciousness.

You think you might’ve heard Keigo say something, might’ve caught the word stay, might’ve detected the annoyance laced in Touya’s voice as he responds, but you’re too worn out to reflect on it.

At some point in the night, Touya reenters his room, chuckling a little at your antics and carrying you to his bed.

The move wakes you, and you weakly protest—no, you don’t want to be in this bed, please, just let you go sleep in your own bed—but Touya ignores you entirely, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you tightly to his chest.

It’s then that the tears start up again, salt staining your puffy cheeks, head beginning to throb from dehydration.

“Shh, baby, shh,” he hushes you, nimble fingers combing through your hair. “I’m here, right here,”

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Touya over these past few weeks, it’s that he becomes marginally softer in the middle of the night. Your fingers twist in his t-shirt, trying in vain to pull yourself impossibly closer, Touya making a soft noise akin to a coo in the back of his throat.

“I’ve got you, niichan’s got you,”

You hate it. You hate that he’s the only person you want comforting you right now, as you lay in his bed, surrounded by the smell of cheap perfume and clinging in desperation to him, needing him close, needing his body heat warming you and his hands on you. You hate the way your sobs come harder the more he soothes you, the heavy ache in your chest almost bruising, crushing your lungs and making it near impossible to breathe.

But you crave his comfort nonetheless. It’s a special kind of comfort, one that’s difficult to describe, one that only comes from the love and adoration and protection of a big brother.

Why can’t you just be mine? You want to ask, the words searing into your tongue, refusing to leave your lips.

“You’re gonna make yourself sick, angel,” he chastises softly, brushing your hair away from your clammy forehead as another shuddery sob rips through your chest.

“I want you,” you say instead, words garbled.

“You have me, baby,”

“All of you,”

His chest heaves with an exasperated sigh, head turning away and gazing up at the ceiling. “You have all of me, princess,”

There’s something in his voice that makes you stop, pause, his words reverberating in your mind. He sounds almost like…like he’s upset over this fact, like he wishes that you didn’t have all of him.

You want to press for more, to probe and prod and pick away at it, but exhaustion finally claims you, rendering you incapable of speech, your tongue moving sluggishly in your mouth as you desperately try to form words.

       ✰          ✰          ✰

It’s grey when you wake, only a few hours later, eyes sticky and dry from lack of sleep. Your head is pounding, feels like it’s been stuffed full of cotton, lips cracked and dry from dehydration, and a painful lump forms almost immediately in your throat when you get a whiff of sickly sweet artificial vanilla, then another of intense, synthetic citrus.

The tears are starting up again, collecting in your eyes and clouding your vision. It makes you nauseous, makes your skin crawl and your chest burn as your throat fills with acid. The tears sting, but you blink hard to keep them at bay. You will not cry, not in front of him, not in his bed surrounded by the remnants of those other girls, not again. You refuse to give them the satisfaction.

You spring up quickly, halfway through climbing over Touya’s body when a strong hand latches onto your wrist.

“No,” Touya mumbles, face half buried in his pillow. “Stay,”

“No,” you whisper, pulling yourself free from his grasp and hurrying out of his room. You can smell them on your clothes, on your skin, and it makes you want to scrub your body under scalding water until it’s raw.

Everything hurts—it hurts so much it feels like your chest is collapsing in on itself, like you can’t breathe, gasping for air as you stumble onto the porch, nearly tripping over your own feet as you stop and realize you have nowhere to go.

Touya has cut you off from all of your friends at this point; any spare time you had was now claimed by him.

And that’s exactly why he doesn’t bother rolling out of bed to follow after you, isn’t worried about you going anywhere, knows you can’t leave him, no matter how badly you want to. No, not a precious little girl like you, with nowhere to find refuge.

You sit down heavily on one of the front steps, vision so blurry with tears you’re barely able to make out the figure advancing towards you. They’re finally escaping your eyes, rolling down your cheeks as you blink twice, trying to clear them. Your chest stutters under the force of a sob you’re desperately trying to hold back, clapping both hands over your mouth in an attempt to silence it.

“Hey—oh no,” Keigo breathes the moment your watery eyes look up at him. You squeeze your eyes shut, causing more tears to leak out as your shoulders shake, whole body trembling from the force of your sobs, poorly muffled by your palms.

“No, no, no, sweetheart,” he’s saying as he rushes to sit down next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders tightly.

Keigo’s the closest thing you have to a friend now. And really, you should be embarrassed by the way you practically fling yourself into his arms, burying your face in his chest as your hands form fists in his t-shirt. He’s a little startled by your borderline violent reaction, but he recovers quickly, arms encircling your body and pulling you against him.

“It’s okay,” he says softly, one hand rubbing your back while the other pets your hair. “Hey, it’s alright, I’m here,”

And you hate the way his words almost directly mirror Touya’s, the way his low sultry voice turned gentle and soft as he carded deft fingers through your hair echoing almost painfully in your head. But Keigo lets you cry, lets you stain his t-shirt with salty tears and saliva until you’ve got nothing left, never stopping his compassionate motions.

“You…Stayed the night?” you pull back a little, the fact that he’s still here, blonde hair all mussed up from sleep, finally dawning on you.

“Well, yeah,” he says, a little bashful as he looks away and ducks his head. “Wanted to make sure you were alright, s’all. Last night was…” he trails off, frowning. “What happened?”

Golden eyes search your face, his forehead crinkling in concern. A beat of silence passes.

“I mean, you don’t have to tell me, but…” kind fingers move to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’ll feel better if you let it out, promise. And, not to brag or anything, but I’m preee-tty good at this kind’a stuff,” he chuckles a little.

“Got in a fight,” you whisper, eyes staring intently at the brick wall behind his shoulder as your chin trembles slightly, memories of last night flashing through your mind.

“A fight? With Touya?” Keigo moves his head a little, forcing his face into your field of vision and catching your face with tender fingers when you try to look away.

“Yeah,” tears are beginning to well up in your eyes as you think about it, the sheer fact that you’re in a fight making your heart feel like it’s ripping itself to shreds. A chaotic storm of emotions brews in your chest, switching mercilessly and swirling together so quickly that you can’t even tell what they are. Your insides feel all jumbled up, and trying to decipher what the heck’s going on only makes your head ache more.

They torment you, a deep sense of anguish finally settling at the core. You’re confused, livid at Touya for being such a jackass; jealous, because you want him all to yourself; heartbroken, because you want—need—his approval, desperate to hear him tell you that you’re his good little baby girl.

You want to be his good little baby girl.

But it isn’t fair. Life isn’t fair, sweetheart. Get used to it, he had told you once, when you had complained about something so silly, so simple as him eating the last ice cream cookie sandwich (he made it up to you, of course, telling you he wanted to taste your cream—such a cheeseball—and making you cum three times before taking you out to buy more).

No, it isn’t fair, but you don’t care. You want him to be yours, too.

Keigo tsks, bringing your attention back to him, mouth set in a hard line as sad eyes watch you. “What was it about?”

“I-It…H-He—” a shuddery breath cuts you off, and Keigo draws you into his arms, holding you against his chest as the sobs start up again, sobs that make it feel like your body’s about to tear apart, desperately clutching Keigo to try and keep yourself together.

“Oh, songbird,” he coos, rocking you gently. “Is it…Um, the other girls?”

“Yes,”

“But you know you’re his favourite, right?”

“D-Does it even matter, if he’s still fucking them anyway?” you ask, pulling back suddenly as hot anger flashes through you. “Why does he need them? Am I—” a sob cuts you off, but you swallow it, persevering. “Am I not good enough?” your voice breaks on the last word, fading into a whisper, big teary eyes scanning his face almost frantically, seeking an answer in his expression.

Keigo blinks, surprised by your sudden brashness, then gives you a small, sad smile. “Only he can answer that, sugarplum,” he whispers, using the pad of his thumb to catch a stray tear and wipe it across your cheekbone. “But just because he’s fucking around, doesn’t mean that you can’t, too,”

Your head tilts to the side, brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”

“Give him a taste of his own medicine,” Keigo shrugs, leaning back a little. “He definitely deserves it, for making an angel such as yourself so upset,”

You sniffle a little, wiping at your nose with the paw of your sweater as you consider the prospect.

“Y’know, it technically isn’t cheating, since you guys aren’t in any sort of official relationship to begin with,” Keigo reminds you gently, nudging just a tiny bit more.

It isn’t right—you know it isn’t. You’ve never been one to fight fire with fire, often preferring to avoid conflict and drama, but you’re so hurt; you’re so angry at him—angry at the way he reacted, as if it was you in the wrong, angry at the fact that he doesn’t even seen to care about your feelings on the issue, because he knows you’ll come running back either way, angry because he’s right, as evident in the way pathetically clung to him last night—that all you want to do in that moment is cause him a shred of the pain he’s causing you.

It’s an impulsive decision that has you pulling out your phone, quickly scrolling through your contacts, thumb jabbing at Tomura’s name—Touya had given you his number for emergencies only—before you have time to think it through, before you have time to regret it.

Tiny thumbs fly across the keyboard, your heart pounding in your chest as adrenaline accelerates your breathing.

Hey. Let’s hang out.

Keigo inhales through his teeth next to you, and your eyes dart to him in surprise, as if you had forgotten he was there.

“Well,” he begins, though his voice sounds odd to you—unlike his usually nonchalant, happy-go-lucky manner. “That’s, uh, definitely one that’s gonna hurt him, songbird,”

You look back down at your phone to see Tomura typing a response.

Yeah, definitely. Pick a day.

“Good.”

#dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi smut #todoroki touya x reader #todoroki touya #no idea how this MONSTER grew so much??? #big apologies #part two is DARK and it is coming tomorrow!!! #tw pseudo-incest #tw toxic relationship #tw dubcon #tw drugs #tw cheating

[slashingdisneypasta]

Jack Bass x Younger!Reader || Oneshot

Title: Bass's.

Notes:

I have no idea when this is supposed to be set. Just go with it.

I have two things to say about Jack in this gif, though. 1. Does he not know how to carry a tray. And 2. I love this statement, here. Its like 'Bart's Dead, Chuck. I can barely contain my joy, Chuck. Its taking all my willpower, Chuck, to keep a monotonous expression. Also Chuck I am carrying a tray, do you see this?'

Plot: Bart Bass decides to be his creepy fucking self (Not that Jack is exponentially better in any way but whatever) towards you, Chuck's best friend- but thankfully, Jack accidentally walks in on the scene and gives you a get out of jail free card.

Good old 'lesser of two evils' shit. I love stuff like that.

Warnings: BART BASS being predatory, and a bit of age difference (You and Jack. I'm going by actors ages though so there's only a, like, 11 year age gap between him and Chuck which is not that bad if you ask me). Sexual references.

~~~

Chuck looks from his phone, that's flashing Blairs name, to you and your big, wide eyes and lips mouthing 'Don't you dare', then to his father quietly tapping away on his phone on the couch a few feet away... then back at his phone.

"Charles- " You hiss, prepared to threaten his very existence but he cuts you off first- slipping off the bar stool beside you and heading for the hallway.

"I'm going to go to the bathroom."

Why am I friends with him again!? You think, but stay quiet and hope that Bart doesn't realise that you're back there despite having said hello to you earlier when he came in. You think, if you stay quiet like a mouse, he will forget your existence and keep texting until Chuck gets back- although, who knows how long he and Blair can go on for.

Depends what its about, honestly. If its about revenge or espionage... well, the conversation could last quite some time.

Should I just leave?

The impulse to run away is a strong one, as you sit there with your cheeks heating up and you start to feel nauseated. You never liked Bart Bass, from the moment you met him. Before that, actually. You had heard Chuck talking about him to Nate before you even became friends with them, and none of what you heard was good. And then you did meet him, one day when Chuck invited you over to do a school project. Or 'school project' as he so obnoxiously put it. You really did end up just doing a school project, though. Hence your friendship nowadays. Bart was creepy towards you even then, at 16 with terribly died hair and the wrong eyeshadow.

You've been very careful since then to never be alone with him like this. You would talk to him at parties if you were forced to, say hello to him when Chuck had you at his place and the man walked by, but that is the extent of your communication with the creep. Always, always, someone would be around. Chuck, mostly. But also staff, or Nate, or random fundraiser ladies, or Jack who Chuck the bastard never left alone with all willy-nilly like this, unfortunately, or Lily, or literally anyone else possible on the earth.

You've even hidden away in the men's bathroom, which is disgusting no matter how expensive the restaurant, with Nate before to get away from this man when Chuck once ditched you both at a dinner with him. And that's the story of how you got your first kiss, too, and it was from Nate Archibald. Hell yes.

That's how much this man makes you want to grab your bag and flee.

But you don't. You stay glued to your seat, super still, listening only to the tap-tap-tapping noises that Bart makes and the bump-bump-bump noises your heart is making right into your throbbing ears.

Until it stops.

Not the bump-bump-bumping, oh no. The tapping. And, nightmarishly, it's replaced by a groan and footsteps coming towards your turned back.

"Y/N," As soon as he says your name, his hands fall on your your shoulders and you literally jump under his touch. Shit- Shit- Fuck- what's happening- "I've been meaning to speak with you recently but Chuck- ah. Well you know him. He refused to share with me your telephone number. But I knew you'd turn up here at some point, so not to worry."

"Uh... right." You cant even force yourself to be your normal, cheery, polite self in this position. You just want him to get. off. of. you.

"Did you want a drink?" He asks, in that possibly cheery (But only because its slightly louder then his usual husk level) but mostly still scary voice he uses to convey emotion, letting go of you thankfully and rounding to the other side of the bar. You shake your head, though. He raises his brows, picking out a scotch for himself. "You don't drink? Shocking, seeing as you're friends with my son."

Oh I drink. You think, giving him a shrug. Just not in situations like this one. Also, what must he think of Chuck? Jesus Christ. For sure, your boy likes debauchery but what's wrong with that?

"Well, I like that." Bart pauses before pouring his drink, to appreciate you. "Mature."

Damn it. It makes your skin absolutely crawl.

"So... " You take a deep breath, tucking your hair back behind your ears rather then ruffling it back like you usually would to get it out of your face- lest that be recognised as some kind of extremely subtle form of flirting. God, fear makes you think weird things. "What did you want to discuss?"

"Oh- Just, your future. Where are you going to school? Will you be sticking close to us?"

Us? US? No, I'll be far far away, from you.

You don't really want to tell Bart where you're going to be going to school, because in your fear addled brain you know that that will just lead to 'Which campus?', or 'Where will you be staying?' and you really don't want it to go there.

You're just taking another, shakier deep breath, when the front door of the apartment opens and shuts loudly and set of feet trample down the hallway towards you. Immediately total relief plashes over you and you wipe your face. Oh, thank god.

Jack Bass appears in the doorway to the living room, looking as put-together yet somehow simultaneously still totally relaxed, as always, and forces aa polite smile onto his handsome face. "Brother. Y/N? Its good to see you."

You have no idea. "Good to see you too Jack. Uh- Chuck's in the bathroom."

"Thanks. For that... enlightening, information, Y/N. I needed that." You cheeks flare up in embarrassment, but ultimately you just roll your eyes as Jack flashes you a subtle wink, and turns promptly to his - much, - older brother. "Bart."

The older brother in question looks less then pleased at his baby brothers appearance in his home. Right now. And he possibly isn't thrilled about that little wink, either. Like you two are in on some kind of joke together. "Jack... What are you doing here?"

"Simmer down, bro. Just visiting." Even you know that that excuse is weak, but anything that comes out Jack's own monotonous voice right now is blessed where you're concerned so you certainly don't say anything. Or make any faces, which would be more appropriate. "Y/N, I don't think Bart-man here's too happy about my presence." Hm, no. You'd have to agree with that observation- not that you've looked up at Bart since Jack came in. You wont risk it. Jack glides through the room with the practised grace of a man who's lived 3 quarters of his life in suits and the other, happier quarter in board shorts, and ends up right next to your chair, an arm resting on the bench in front of you.

If you weren't already so nervous about Bart, you would blush about Jack.

"At least tell me you're glad to see me."

You grin, which is less forced then you thought it would be prior to trying it. Damn, he's good. You think, realising he just swepped in here and made you comfortable in less then 50 words. "Always, 'Uncle Jack'."

"Oh," He groans, like it physically pained him to hear you tease him like that. A tiny smirk even slips through his usually emotionless - well, not emotionless. He has one standing colour, that being sly, - stone statue of a face. "'Uncle Jack'- Please, stop. I'm barely a decade older then you."

That's enough to make anything else possible, inappropriate. Unfortunately. "Hey, I said I'm glad to see you." You wink, a bit sly yourself. "Count your blessings."

His grin widens a bit, like the dangerously charming Cheshire cat-type that he is. Genes that Chuck inherited, clearly, if his track record with girls say anything at all, but that Bart obviously missed out on. "You've got a point."

"She's a remarkable young woman." Bart pipes up, making your stomach tie itself up in knots again, and you immediately revert your gaze to your lap. Remarkable young woman... you want to barf. "Who, I was actually having a conversation with before you burst in here, unannounced." He takes a slow sip of his drink, then mutters. "And uninvited."

"Well that's great." Jack straightens up, clapping his hands together and finally showing his teeth in a smile. They're really freaken white, compared to his skin, deeply tanned by the hot Australian sun. "A visit would be kinda uncomfortable without a conversation; I'll join. I can converse with the best of 'em, Bart. I assure you."

"It was private." The old man sneers, thinking that he's got the upper hand on Jack, and all you can do is hope to god that he's wrong.

Jack turns his head back to look at you, and you meet his gaze tentatively. Your eyes scream, 'Please don't leave me alone with that guy'. He promptly looks back to Bart. "Well Bart why don't we ask the lady in the room what she wants? We are gentlemen here aren't we?" Then Jack makes a face, all crumpled up and unsure, for a moment. "Err. Well actually... 'gentleman' might be a bold faced lie. We'll ask anyway. Y/N! Do you mind if I weigh in here?"

"Not at all." You say quickly, flashing a tiny, thankful smile. He gives you another wink- this time actually subtle. So Bart didn't see it. Your smile gets a little bit bigger, relaxing. He's got you.

"Great." You watch him pull out the stool beside you, that Chuck - who has still not returned from his phone call with Blair. You assume some, likely cruel vengeance must be involved. Possibly involving that Humphrey guy, - had vacated and settles down in it. He then sets his arms firmly on the bench and looks up attentively at Bart, not breaking eye contact with him. Boy these Bass's like their stare downs. "So?" He prompts, expectantly. And a little arrogantly- a Bass speciality that you truly don't mind at all. "What's on the agenda, today?"

Bart glares heatedly, back.

~

Throughout the awkward discussion between the three of you, which your good friend Chuck has yet to return to discover - at this point you're resigned to him having climbed out the window and scaled the building probably, - , Jack constantly, skilfully changes the subject for you whenever Bart rears to close to somewhere uncomfortable. He makes jokes that make you laugh, he nudges you with his elbow at times - but never touches you any more then that, although you honestly wouldn't mind it if he did, - and takes the attention off you a lot. At times you truly thought you saw steam come out of Bart's ears.

When finally Bart gives up and excuses himself, saying he as an early dinner with Lily, you feel exhausted and relieved. After the door swings shut behind him, you cover your face with your hands and deeply sigh.

"So, what was that about? You looked like a trapped mouse. I recognise that look, I invented that look." You pull back slightly from your hands and glance over at him, to see him thoughtful for a moment. "Well, not by making it. By... causing... it... Either way, it was not good." He shakes his head, taking a sip of his own drink - scotch, - that he made Bart pour for him; Raising his eyebrows at you for an explanation over the rim of the glass.

Jack's always been great, like this. Even when he was horrible, he was the lesser of two evils between him and Bart. Good for a laugh and quality eye candy in a pinch- and that counts for a hell of a lot when it comes to surviving Bart Bass and the Upper East Side. And he had the power and pull of an adult, but knew what the hell was going on like one of you.

So he always made you feel at ease.

You ruffle your hair back, and sigh, straightening your back finally from their hunched over position they live in when you're uncomfortable and pushing back your shoulders. "He was just, saying some weird stuff... and Chuck disappeared to talk to Blair." At that, Jack nods in total understanding. Like ah, yeah. Got ya. Finally, you shrug. "He just makes me really uncomfortable. No offence, but I hate your brother."

As you watch Jack's eyes don't even flicker; He's totally on board with what you've said. Then he finishes the rest of his scotch in one gulp. "Ahh- I hate him too."

"As do we all." Chuck's voice suddenly pops up, as he appears in the doorway like Jack had earlier. You have to practice some serious self control so as to not laugh, at Chuck so coincidentally turning up again at the perfect moment to proclaim his hatred for his father. Jack grins back at Chuck coldly, nodding. Yeah. "Anyway, Y/N, I apologise but I'll be having to abandon you. Blair's waiting for me at her, empty, apartment." He pauses for a moment for dramatic effect, in perfect Chuck Bass fashion, and you roll your eyes, grinning. Jack smirks. "But you're welcome to stick around a while and help yourself to the amenities All on my tab, of course. Good to see you again, Jack." Then he pockets his phone and heads toward the door. The second Bass of the day leaves the building.

"Bye, nephew!" Jack waives as the elevator doors close behind Chuck then swiftly turns around back to you, to which you raise your eyebrows. "So, what do we do now?"

"I dunno." Shrugging you grin and turn your stool to angle your legs towards Jack. "When Chuck says those magical words 'All on my tab'," Those words, oh; You speak them with just as much raw, breathy sexual arousal as the man himself would. As the words demand. 'All on my tab'. Good lord, sex if they were words. "I tend to take advantage."

"An easy girl to please; That's what I like to see." Your cheeks flame up at those words out of Jack's mouth as he turns to look down at the room service menu. Yes, Jack Bass has toed the line, between platonic and flirtatious since the very moment you met the man... but that seemed a little bit more then toeing the line.

And you get a far different reaction to him doing it then you do the other Bass brother.

You don't even really mind the implications of his words.

"You're staying back with me?" You ask, feeling hopeful at the idea.

"Yeah well, I cant in, uh, good conscience," He makes a bit of a show to you, of pressing his hand to his chest totally earnestly as those words 'good conscience' come out of his mouth. "leave you here unguarded in case Bart comes back, can I? Besides, the way you said 'All on my tab'- man, you could sell moonshine at an AA meeting with that voice."

"Ha," You laugh, rolling your eyes and shaking your head. "Well, thanks."

"Oh. Don't thank me. You're just using what uh, your mama gave you. I actually encourage you totally, to do that more often- "

"No!" You exclaim, sighing in exasperation; But there is still a smile on your face you cant seem to shake. "For not leaving, today. When you walked in. It would've sucked if you had, not that I would've blamed you at all."

"Hey, just call me your knight in shining armour." He doesn't look up from the menu, flicking through it. Then turns to you with one of those beach boy/politician, toothless grins of his. "Besides you were automatically, my favourite person in the apartment. I mean, anyone with... uhhh- different, appendages to what I have, instantly gets a one-way ticket access to my rare bouts of chivalry. Now come over here, pick out what you want off here."

You just gape at him and that comment, making him stifle a laugh and return to the menu himself.

Bass's.

#Jack Bass #Jack Bass x Reader #Gossip Girl Jack Bass x Reader #Jack bass x Reader Oneshot #Bart Bass #Chuck Bass #Oneshot #Gossip Girl #Gossip Girl x Reader

[vdragon-creations]

More Danganronpa Headcanons!

Why? Because I can! And I have to wait for a Commissioner to get back to me about a WIP I just sent!

I Think I’m gunna try my hands at making some Headcanons for Mondo, Ishimaru, Leon, Kazuichi, and Kiibo this time a round! Just cause I wanna try and explore new characters. (And totally not because I fell hard for a certain Robo Boi! WHAAAAAAAT! YOU CRAZY GURL!) I’m still loyal to my man Yasuhiro! But I gotta spred the love! Cause these boi’s need it! Also, wanna mention that these are more like...Non-Killing Game AU Headcanaons. So yeah! ^^ 

Let’s do this!

Mondo:

Is a Semi decent carpenter, but there was that one time he fucked up the legs on a chair, and now one of Asahina’s shorts has a rip in it where there was a stray nail sticking out.

She wont let him live that down. And neither will Sakura.

Get’s pretty embarrassed/pissed off if someone touches his neck! The dude’s jacket practically covers that entire part of his body, so he’s not used to feeling anything touch him there!

He once let out a girlish scream when Leon poked him there once to wake him up during class! The rest of them are surprised Leon wasn’t killed right then and there.

Once he participated in a little competition between the classes to see who was the arm wrestling champ. He got pretty far till he had to go up against Gonta. He lost by a landslide, but he felt better loosing to a dude like him at least. 

Totally escorts any female classmate or student home on his bike if they ask, or he sees some creep hanging around them. 

He does get embarrassed about it though, and ends up yelling at them. This results in one of three things.

The girl runs away!

The girl just politely declines, and walks away kinda creeped out!

Or a mix of all, with the addition of the dude sees this, and get’s spooked himself, and fucks off

Ishimaru:

Has a bit of a panic attack and dies inside if he sees someone leaving the men’s restroom without washing their hands!

Carries scented hand sanitizers with him! At all times! No matter what! And must offer some to every single one of his classmates! 

Once he tripped in the halls while chasing after another rule breaker, and had to be carried to the nurse’s office. Now that alone wouldn’t have been a bad thing, except Sakura was the one who did it, and she carried him bridle style, much to his dismay. 

Mondo and Leon teased him about that one for months.

During Christmas, he’ll start screeching about PDA anytime he sees a Mistletoe, or people under it who are about to kiss! 

But will ultimately be the first one forced to stand underneath it by is classmates.

Stays behind after school hours to either clean, or poke his head into every class room to see if the teachers need help with anything.

He’s totally that guy who during the Gym Class or Sports festival, is bitching about how short the girls shorts are, but not realize he’s staring. There by making HIM the creep! 

Leon of all people was the one to point this out to him, only adding to the shame.

Leon:

It’s not hard for him to start catching feelings for basically any girl meets.

Totally has an Instagram where he posts shirtless pics! He’s pretty popular thanks to that, and his Baseball Skills.

Purposely taught himself English so he could flirt with some of the American and British chicks who visit his profile and leave comments.

He’s pretty used to going from girl to girl, so it’s safe to assume he’s used to getting dunked on by the girls he’s dumped. Getting called a pig, dirty looks, even some of them going so far as to pour their drinks on them at lunch. This he can handle!

Wanted so badly to start a band with Sayaka, Ibuki, Kaede, and Kazuichi! (Probably due to the punk look Soda always puts on!) But he was promptly let down by all of them! Cause Ibuki had her own shit to deal with, Kazuichi because he had no experience with music (at least any good ones, Stay tuned for that! ;3), Sayaka cause she’s already part of a group, and Kaede because punk wasn’t exactly her thing.

But what really stresses him out is when one of his Exes just.....doesn’t really seem to care! It feels so outta place to him, and it actually makes him pretty paranoid. Wondering if their plotting for revenge or some shit! So he’ll spend days after breaking up with a girl like this, just kinda....being a little bitch! XD

Secretly, I’m pretty sure they all turned him down because they thought he was coming on to them to a degree. 

Kazuichi:

Is a lot like Yasuhiro, he doesn’t like birds, but not because he thinks they work for the government. It’s because he doesn’t like most animals, they remind him of Gundham.

Miu makes him HIGHLY uncomfortable! Sure, she’s hot and stuff, but she’s a whole other level of fuckery that he wants no part of! She’s banned from entering his workshop, and so Kiibo is usually the one who comes in to grab something if Miu needs it. He completely get’s Kazuichi feeling put off by Miu.

However, Kazuichi is still pretty insistent on asking Kiibo if he can take him apart every time he comes to get something for Miu. Making the poor robot very uncomfortable!

He’s pretty jealous that Miu get’s to play with the Robot and he doesn’t. Get’s kinda salty about it.

Teruteru once gave him the idea that he should try to serenade Sonia. And so he did! Or at least he tried to. He got over the fence to the girls dorms, ripping his clothes in the prosses. Then when he got to the window (he thought was) of Sonia’s room, he threw a rock that was a bit too big at it, cracking the window and scaring the girl in the room! Waking up the whole dorms and he booked it out of there! 

He attempted this one more time, and was better prepared. But Sonia opened her window to see a Kazuichi dressed in a Ghillie Suit and wearing an army helmet holding a guitar! When he started to sing and play, it was now obvious why Ibuki refuses to let him sing along with any of her music! 

A girl from a neighboring room called the campus security to repot a strange dude outside the Girls dorms, while another one poked her head out of her window and began to throw things at him. 

He left soon after, but was caught by security and reprimanded. Now he refuses to listen to Teruteru has to say about anything.  

Kiibo:

Often get’s bossed around by Mui to get her things. He finds it rather degrading, but when she’s not being bossy, she’s helpful to him. So he puts up with it, as a way of saying thanks. 

One of these tasks he’s asked to do a lot is going over to Kazuichi’s Workshop to barrow tools and such. He hates doing it though, since Kazuichi is always wanting to take him apart. So he does his best to make these visits quick!

Miu gave him the ability to remove some of his heavy armor so he can wear clothing like normal. Surprisingly, This was his idea! He wanted to be able to enjoy the comforts of soft fabrics like most humans. And it would help him blend in a bit better.

Gonta and him get along very well! Mainly due to both of them having a hard time understanding things like sarcasm, harsher jokes, and certain social cues. This usually leads to them both learning at the same time when they hang out!

Miu is his wingman, weather he knows it or not! She’s always wanting to add new functions to him to make him more appealing. One of these is a thin velvet like coating on his armor that’s meant to make his metal less harsh on the skin if you touch him.

Another one of these features is a type of diffuser at the top of his skull under his hair! It releases a pleasant scent into his hair, similar to pheromones. The scent changes based on Kiibo’s emotions. 

Kokichi likes to openly mock Kiibo in front of new people. Like a lot!

Kiibo actually releases steam when he get’s too Angry or Embarrassed, but this is really rare. 

Get’s really curious about Occult, Paranormal, or Religious things. Sure, he finds some of it to be very silly, but he can’t help but wonder why some humans like those things! 

Some holiday traditions he finds weird too, and in some cases, a bit Robophobic. Like giving candy or sweets out on Valentines Day, when....well, he can’t fucking eat it! So he feels excluded in times like that.

He’s really confused about most PDA! Especially kissing! So humans just like...put their mouths together? And that’s like....supposed to mean deep affection? What’s so great about swapping fluids like that? Couldn’t they get sick? QUESTIONS! ANSWERS! HE MUST HAVE THEM!

His Ahoge doesn’t just change shape and move to show emotion, but it also tends to point in the direction that he’s attention is drawn too. Even when he’s trying to pretend he’s not looking at something! His hair is a dead give away!

Has a built in “Cellphone” in his head. Miu added it so it would be easier to contact him if needed. 

Everyone in his class has his number, except Kokichi! And it will stay that way!

.......Until Gonta gave it to him by being tricked into doing it!

And now he has a small panic attack every time his “Cellphone” rings. Praying to all that is good that he doesn’t hear “HEY KIIBOOOOOOOY!~<3″ on the other end!

#headcanon #danaganronpav3 #Danaganronpa Kiibo #danaganronpa #danaganronpa2 #Danaganronpa None-Killing Game AU #danaganronpa leon #danaganronpa mondo #danaganronpa ishimaru #danaganronpa kazuichi #kiyotaka ishimaru #leon kuwata #mondo oowada #kazuichi souda #Kiibo #keebo #K1-B0

[cosmicbash]

This was something I wrote in chat to my best friend earlier today then spruced up in docs. Because I thought yall might enjoy it too 😉

No proper ending of course cuz I'm lazy af

Concept

Em just straight up buying Kelly from Diddy. Like real world AU. He just buys Kells time for a month, just to prove he can and make the brat squirm when his label manager suddenly comes and tells him he needs to go be Marshall's (slave)  assistant for a full month and if he doesn't then they can't produce his new album

Just Diddy not giving two fucks about his artists except for the money they can earn him and Em rubbing it in Kells face that he's practically a for hire whore if he wants him to be;

Marshall barely acknowledges the blonde for little more than to give him his coffee or fast food order the first few days, just to make him sweat. See how he will react to repeatedly being ignored and treated no better than some random kid hired off the street.

By the 4th day Colson just snaps, and slams the coffee none too politely down on a meeting table to snarl at the older rapper about how he's not some goddamn coffee boy. All because he expected Colson to sit there and stir his cream and sugar in it for him in front of a group of people. 

Of course all that does is lead to everyone staring and Marshall ordering them out of the office. Eyes finally meeting the blondes dead on, glueing his feet to the floor and leaving him terrified.

By the time the brunette has slid the door lock over with a loud click and turned back around to start storming towards him Colson is near shaking in his designer boots. Marshall's stride and face unflinching like a predator closing in on its prey.

The poor boy doesnt know whether his fight or flight wants to kick in because yeah while he's sure he might be able to take the older rapper in a fight solely due to their size difference alone he also doesn't think hitting the guy will bode well for him and his bands careers. So instead he just tenses up and braces for impact. Expecting a fist to the jaw, or gut, hell maybe even a shoe.

The impact he's waiting for never comes, instead the rapper diverts his path last minute and instead settles back into the large cushiony office chair that rests at the head of the table.

The squeak and hiss of air when his weight lands makes Colson's hearing perk up. Focus zeroing in on the man's every movement while his body turns to face him once more.

Then comes the order, a finger crooking itself in a come hither motion that has Colson's feet moving despite himself. "Here. Now."

And before the blonde knows it he's in reaching distance of his rap god and suddenly a hand is fisting itself in his tank top, yanking him down. Forcing him awkwardly across the other man's lap, while another grabs the belt loops of his jeans. Leaving his hands to fly out and press shaking finger tips against the carpeted floor when he finds himself horizontal. And his legs to flail in the air for a moment before they also find purchase. Shoe tips finding zero traction.

The arm of the chair is digging into his chest and thighs painfully, and the fingers Marshall has fisted in the belt loops of his jeans to hoist his ass up and across has electricity radiating out from where a knuckle brushes against bare skin

"If you want to throw a fit and slam things around like a child I can treat you like a child-"

One hard yank later and Colson's whole face lights up like the fourth of july. Cold air conditioned office air tickling his now bare ass, jeans pulled down just enough to flash both cheeks and rest snug beneath the curve.

He knows what's coming before it happens but a startled yelp still escapes his mouth when the first open palm slaps down. A stinging pain shooting up his back from the impact. And em doesn't give him any time to recover, another succession of slaps follow within seconds to the same cheek. Until the skin feels hot and Colson's fingers have dug their way into the thin carpet in front of him.

Gasped grunts and jerks of his legs are all the reaction he's capable of giving. The humiliation of it all placing a tight knot in his throat.

Just when Colson thinks it's over, the older rapper switches his smacking to the opposite cheek. The palm that had been clapping down shifting over to tightly grip his hip, fingers digging in so tightly they inspire a curse.

Now using his right hand to smack. The blonde can't help but literally whimper at the sting added from cold metal rings present. 

"Is this what Diddy needs to be doing to keep you in line? Hm? Should I use our time together to train you into a good little bitch?" 

Colson's whole lower half feels like it's on fire, but somehow his face manages to feel hotter. He wants to retort, curse and scream and tell the older rapper off. All he needs to do is give a good push of his long legs or his arms and he knows he could knock himself free. But his body refuses to listen to him.

Between his legs his cock is steadily filling, thickening up against his thigh where its trapped between tight briefs and the lowered hem of his jeans.

The embarrassment coiling in his stomach triples, shame and arousal joining the cocktail of mixed emotions.

The stinging slaps finally end, even if his quivering doesn't. 

Now the warm palm resting against his ass just smoothes over the sensitive flesh, pressing down and giving almost comforting rubs . "Cat got your tongue Kelly? Or was it really that easy for me to break you?"

Swallowing down the tight lump still present Colson manages to at least shake his head. By now his fingers have turned white against the gray of the carpet and his lip feels swollen from the bite of his own teeth but he does finally get words to leave his mouth.

"F-fuck you."

Far from eloquent. Or the multitude of things rattling around inside his head that he wants to say. But he wont let the asshole assume he's some weak willed little bitch.

Marshall hums thoughtfully above him, the circles being rubbed against his raw ass widening, the press harder. Until it's got him wincing.

"Is that what I should do? Want me to reward you for taking your punishment so patiently by filling your tight little hole?"

A spread to his cheeks is what finally gets Colson's legs kicking back to life. His whole body tumbling to the floor in a heavy heap, ass catching the carpet wrong while he crawls backwards forcing tears to spring up in his eyes. 

Marshall looks amused, head cocked sideways now resting on one palm while he watches him.

Meanwhile Colson's heart is racing in his chest, his own gaze locked on the older rappers. Too afraid to look away while he blindly tries to pull his jeans back up. "D-dont touch me you fucking pervert!"

The smirk on bearded cheeks just grows wider. Until the man is smiling almost shark like at him, a twinkle present behind blue eyes. "Suit yourself-" another hissing squeak of the chair and the brunette is standing back up. Looming over the younger rapper spawled across the carpet while he fishes a couple bills out of his pocket. "The coffees all cold by now anyway, get your clothes back on and go replace the order."

Cash rains down over Colson's lap and he feels like a cheap whore. But the blonde still grits his teeth and crumbles the bills up between his fingers before pushing through the pain and dragging his pants back up over his throbbing ass. 

Counting it up Colson finds double what it cost earlier "This is too much-"

"Your reward. Get one of those too sweet iced coffees for yourself, and a fucking muffin or two." Fingers suddenly thread through his hair, catching him off guard. "Ass is too bony for my taste. Need to fatten you up over the next few weeks." 

#emgk #prompts

[comradekatara]

Pls tell me random things about the modern au

sure!

please keep in mind this is not chronologically-ordered because i am far too pomo for (scoff) linear narratives

(* = chell’s contributions)

suki drives a truck, and said truck is a legend

azula goes to harvard, despite her objectively terrible character (ohhhh shots fired!!!!) 

zuko doesn’t try very hard in school, because he knows that if he were to actually try, he would feel worse about azula being better than him (he’s not living under ozai’s roof––anymore––so it doesn’t matter) but it’s way too easy to trick her into taking naclo, which is where he shines. it drives her crazy that he won’t tell her his score. “you just wont tell me because you know i did better than you” “….maybe :)” “UGH ZUKO JUST TELL ME WHAT YOU GOT!!!!!!!!” 

the day before aang’s first day of high school, sokka gently tries to inform him that he is too old to be wearing heelies 

toph isn’t allowed on any sports teams due to her blindness, so she fights the administration every single day, and (physically) fights random people just for fun, and they so desperately want to punish her for it but she is a genius wunderkind pride & joy of their institution and they know that unless she gets really out of line, their hands are tied. but they still refuse to let her play sports 

“suki’s nervous because today’s the day of the Big Game,” sokka tells zuko. zuko can swear he said the same thing yesterday. and the day before that. and the day before that. it is always the day of the Big Game. when zuko asks katara about it she rolls her eyes and says, “don’t be stupid, the Big Game only happens once a year.” and so, the concept of sports continues to wear on his sanity 

azula’s all, “i swear to god, if sokka is valedictorian i will burn EVERYTHING to the GROUND” and zukos like “why do you even care youre not even in his class” (but it’s the PRINCIPLE of it, zuzu!!!!!!!) 

aang has a really big dog named appa, and a flying lemur named momo. no one questions this 

it is very apparent to everyone except for mai and zuko that mai and zuko are not happy together. mais not “in love” with “ty lee” what an idiotic thing to even suggest 

toph’s favorite joke is stumbling into nothing and then yelling “OW! watch where you’re going!” to which zuko sighs and says, “toph theres no one there” and tophs like “no i can swore i bumped into something” and zukos like “no. u didnt. u know u d––” “mustve been your closet, then. EYOOOOO” 

sokka refuses to admit to himself that the reason he “doesnt do” relationships is to keep himself from getting hurt (see: yue). katara not so gently reminds him that if he truly “didnt do” relationships, then why does suki practically live in her house. 

katara thinks clubs are stupid and school spirit is lame but then she finds out that their school doesn’t have a straight gay alliance so she starts one. no one joins except for toph, who just sits there in the corner and eats peanuts with a wide smile, staring straight ahead. 

in his senior year, aang finally gets to be the mascot the night of the Big Game. everyone comes back just to support him. zuko has not set foot in his hometown in at least three years, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t support aang’s dreams. (plus he’s pretty sure katara would kill him if he didn’t.) once the Big Game starts (the first and only Big Game zuko ever attends), sokka notices zuko staring really intently at the field, and that he has been for about a half hour now. he’s like “whats….goin on??” and zuko mutters, “i’m trying to figure out what sport theyre playing.” sokkas just like “oh my god” 

suki and sokka miss their prom because they got too invested in their game of monopoly. toph humbly accepts their crowns in their place. the teachers are just like “wait who even let her in here isnt she a freshman” 

katara plays hockey. azula does track and kickboxing. they are both fierce, violent, and terrifying. both katara and azula tried to join suki’s roller derby team, but suki wisely rejected them both because they were, in her estimation, “not a good culture fit.” she told them the team was already full.*

zuko, suki and toph are in a band. their music is very lyrical and also very screamy (only suki and toph get to sing, natch). believe it or not, aang is their biggest fan. aang plays the triangle and the flute and the harp, which you might think would not exactly fit with their style, but they do invite him onstage for gigs sometimes and somehow the combination is excellent.*

katara is a mediocre student. zuko is great in his literature classes and his art classes and kind of tragic at everything else. nevertheless, they try to study together. mostly katara just comes over to zuko’s house and scuffs up his coffee tables and eats a lot of food out of the fridge. zuko considers this direct action against his terrible father, and he loves it*

azula is obsessed with sneakers. yeah that’s it that’s a whole bullet point*

suki’s truck is disgusting and made up of a seemingly boundless mess, but there are three recurring themes that are most apparent when you enter: weed, construction equipment for some weird building project she never tells anyone the details of, and other girls’ underwear*

katara thinks sokka is a narc for having gotten jet suspended. “he called in a BOMB THREAT, KATARA” 

sokka is the head of the science club. because he loves science. toph and suki are also in the science club. because they love watching (and listening to) things explode. 

everyone agrees that debate should be renamed “sokka and azula fight for 90 minutes.” azula spends a week drafting up a foolproof argument, manipulating the whole class into picking said topic, and then pretending its unrehearsed, and sokka spends no time in saying “nope. thats wrong.” on days where he chairs the debates, azula always wins because he’s forced to remain impartial, and no one else can out-debate her. it is on those days that he goes home and proceeds to rant about how everything azula said was wrong and why. 

katara and azula also fight, of course, but never in a structured setting. sometimes it ends in bloodshed. toph enjoys egging them on way too much. 

sokka is constantly misplacing his possessions. that is, when neither zuko nor suki are around to personally keep track of all his belongings. he loses his phone about twice a day. he’s checking the chem lab to see if he left his phone in there, but azula is already there, presumably to work on a lab. she offers to call his phone for him, and he types his number into her phone because she is too embarrassed to admit she already has his number (and a tracking device in place but thats not important). unfortunately, azula is the one to locate his phone, so she sees that her contact name is, “ZUKO’S SISTER??!??!!!!???!???!!??!!!!?” she has never been more offended in her entire life. 

katara is always threatening to beat up anyone who so much as looks at aang funny. no one would hurt aang, though. everyone loves aang. 

sokka loves art class. he also hates art class. he likes that he has a structured time and space in which to paint, and he loves painting. he hates that his paintings always turn out looking like wet garbage, especially compared to those of the guy who sits near him, who clearly is not even trying. he is the rich to sokka’s jeff. at least in sokka’s mind. sokka will oft complain about “that asshole who thinks he’s too good for art class,” but suki pays him no mind and rolls her eyes. until one day, when sokka and suki are being particularly annoying and making out in the middle of the hallway, which is particularly upsetting for zuko because a) that is Hot Guy From His Art Class and b) he will either have to wait for them to finish or politely ask them to move, as they are right in front of his locker. he says, “do you mind moving?” and he means this as politely as possible, but sokka is like “wow what a haughty bitch” so he just holds his index finger up as if to say “one second” and that is that is such an asshole move that zuko has no choice but to yell “what the fuck?!?” far too loudly. it leads to a kerfuffle that eventually lands them both in detention (suki was an innocent party and sokka is more than willing to take the fall for her.) their detention becomes a breakfast club meets war balloon, and sokka actually sort of tells someone about yue. that’s weird. why’d he do that? neither of them know. zuko has no idea what to say. well, this is awkward. another half hour passes. sokka idly mentions that they could totally find a way out of this room by crawling through the vents and then climbing the beams in the gym and after that it’s only a matter of finding an open window––and not getting caught. this is a joke, a completely hypothetical joke, of course. zuko’s like, “let’s do it.” sokka’s like “oh shit this bitch is crazy,” but, y’know, they pull it off. they run out of the school and keep running and only stop when sokka has the dawning realization that if any of this goes on his permanent record that definitely lessens his chances of getting scholarships. but zuko assures him that mr. bumi doesn’t actually give a fuck, and then offhandedly mentions that he sort of gives him the creeps, and sokka wholeheartedly agrees. this prompts more and more conversation, as they just kind of wander about various streets. once they finally realize that it’s gotten completely dark around them, it occurs to them that they may as well have stayed in detention. 

people won’t shut up about the shit that went down at post-prom. “did you see when that one guy…??” “yeah dude that was wild.” suki just smiles knowingly, and so her friends are all “oh did u hook up with ty lee again?” and she’s like “even better. i won monopoly.” 

katara hates zuko for incredibly petty reasons. like, “he took the last popsicle out of her fridge” petty. then, she very obtrusively finds out that hes gay and is immediately like Oh We Are Friends Now. zuko’s life has suddenly become so much more convenient now that katara is no longer being mean to him that it actually takes him a while to realize that katara is being actively nice to him. 

they talk about waves in physics, and it shakes toph to her core. later that day, she asks sokka to explain what colors are to her. he does not do a good job. starts talking about plato’s allegory of the cave, and the double slit experiment??? what??? zuko explaining that “colors are a feeling” is only marginally more helpful. so toph ultimately enlists suki’s help in explaining to her which colors are lame and which colors are dykey. suki immediately says “flannel.” 

so yes aang may have technically stolen momo from the zoo but its not his fault because momo followed him home and refused to leave his side!!!! 

once mai grows out of her “everyone is an idiot and i hate the world” phase, sokka realizes that she’s actually really cool. they hang out constantly. they have a weekly board game night, and they take turns hosting, which is hilarious because mai lives in a mansion and has an actual butler. their secret handshake is needlessly complicated. zuko tries to pretend it isn’t weird. but…. it’s weird right?? and like, it’s weird that no one else thinks it’s weird???? ……..why does no one else think it’s weird?????

azula is, of course, valedictorian, and her speech is about as bone-chilling as you’d expect. her jokes are too cruel to land. she namedrops harvard about ten times. she manages to squeeze in an offhanded dig at sokka, which makes katara nearly fight her onstage. at the afterparty, azula overhears a conversation wherein one meathead jock whose name she never learned says to another meathead jock whose name she never learned, “oh, but remember that speech from last year??? it was so funny.” this prompts her to have a little too much to drink, which only sokka notices (he showed up for katara and then he was dragged to the party by his friends), so he ends up driving her home. as a graduation gift to her, he says, he changes her contact name in his phone to “Azula.”

sokka has en english teacher who really has it out for him. katara tells him she had him before and wishes she could punch him in the face, and that it’s not his fault that he’s doing poorly in that class. still, sokka begs zuko to tutor him in english. zuko’s just like “you’re perfectly fine at english pakku just sucks” but he agrees to tutor him anyway. sokka’s grades do not improve in the slightest, but he does not care.

the week in which SAT results are expected to arrive, azula is weirdly vigilant about the mail. she makes sure to check the scores and then put it back in the envelope before anyone sees that it was opened. she very casually asks zuko “so what did you get?” and zuko just kinda shrugs impassively and walks away. azula smiles to herself. 

katara comes home one night to find mai and sokka watching a movie on her couch. (the movie is phantom thread and there are tears of laughter streaming down both their faces by the time it’s over.) she’s like “oh hey guys i saw both your girlfriends making out with each other at a party twenty minutes ago,” and sokkas like “for the last time, katara, suki’s not my girlfriend!!” and mai just angrily shushes her because she’s talking over the johnny greenwood score!!!!! smh.

toph never stops yelling at the administration for their ableism. and you’d best believe her valedictory speech blows everyone else’s out of the water. 

#woah this got long #this is what happens when u cant move from bed and u also refuse to do real work i guess #modern au #ur welcome for this novel #asks #sinxaschwarz

[sirjustice19-blog]

Beba ugali

U think they beba ugali want to cut ya just waiting 4 meat. If u realise that u kill him b4 he does the same to ya. When 1 dont eat he dies and they want that. Mps have relented, now they have investigated scrap metal dealership is lucrative giving some people small capital to start, more lucrative even than their posts, so can even ambush those who have ventured into it or thinking. Folks take heed, ME abart dont take them back, even new dont take hin back again take a new 1. The somali people, got this bro. Click the link below

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0WOHZ9QhI9M

Socks, tai or shoes like 10 pairs goes 4 $5, to stop all the monitoring that ought to feed the lifestyles of the lazy, making them looking down upon ya at the 2 points i mentioned dude

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I0HZG8dqMPc

Dont sing to a white woman dat why, let them be prostitutes bro, they think u wanna take technology off them to out-shine them like nyamwezi belle tisa, wanwaleny bwana in-tara tara kanyo, sauli chako, chietha, nyofrith in the link below

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w1N2i3d7Rls

Somali just came to induct me of avoiding much food as it attracts a gun as plotting crime, folks disatified with little but have not gained their plan and breeds disrespect. I think with war out-break in somali long-time and no justice now, they have known the truths of hell so wanna be their at once as a tribe, its a blessing in disguise. They would long to be served like in the usa or be there but cant happen. With their women let the be prostitutes, wachana na masomo as well as they are intertwined, synonyms dude, yesus got that blood as well as china, kinda, people who dont want real progress but true with Africans breeds a certain spirit with good things, they should just be like right now

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Somali_Civil_War

The link below shows killings organized by Dignitaries liaising with hooligans like motor bike riders to annihilated as they have known on how to make formalin by immersing cut euphobia in water then hurl cold water, so they take it to the morgue liaising with authorities so they buy just little amount or put some cash in their pockets of to buy formalin which has been made at no-extra cost, it cost like $120 4 one dead body so if many like 100 cost $12000 which is around  1,500,000, which is put on roads as motor bikes later buys taxi then buses that ferry people to different Kenya cities. Mortuary bill should not be charged to eradicate this. The nation is poor and they refuse resorting to dubious ways thinking wont be unearthed.

Wichita state University i dont wanna be thre and i done told you friends, i have gone to the university of hooliganism and i got a 1st class degree in brutality, then stop many words, dont play guitar to me dude like a cow wont listen bro, well, give me the visa and apart from hitting ya eye (male) with stone to take me to jail i will light fire on ya wooden apartment and it will be loss to ya and jail me 4 years. Dude thats ya want, tell me dude, what do u want, dont u now clearly knows ya time is over dude in the link below

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_JAa3NvP6f4

Also i got beside the above, degree in domestic violence from university of du-mexico, nyofrith, pierith saying ya own things in books, daytime lies dude, am feed up with dude

If we got a padlock that if u open has a wireless alarm system that rings in ya house, blue tooth 1 or fingerprint enabled 1 and many more why keep dogs 4 male they instigate bad sexual characters in male but excusable with women in the link below

https://www.google.com/search?q=alarm+enabled+padlocks+from+china+images&tbm=isch&source=univ&client=firefox-b-d&sa=X&ved=2ahUKEwjpjMb18-fnAhUnA2MBHeNzD8IQsAR6BAgKEAE&biw=1280&bih=910

https://www.pinterest.com/makelock/siren-alarm-padlock/

mcsleepynelson search dude

Vehicle link made in kenya below

https://africa-facts.org/6-cars-produced-in-africa-by-africans-for-africa/

The above kid, when he was being made was like the greatest sex. People whodont have great sex give birth to polite kids.No kidding dude, okna-ng'otho why lie bro, I did not fuck bro, sikutomba to bring a disturbing kid who wants goodie just from me, behave like he knows all yet youn, cant play like other kids. They will not stop saying u want their food or cash, yet its been years they see u eating without begging them so it hurts them, still they wanna send money to Tz with all the explained in other tumblr a/c like E-vehicle overtaking oil that tz got oil they will benefit cause the natives hate being employed and are lazy. Dude get it its wrong, change tactics, or let it be war, come out don’t call other fellows and let us fight to see the winner. U wretched and wicked wanting peoples food many people yet u u eat in darkness or seclusion. Big shame, I still say die, Mr Dennis go back to ya nation, don’t bring ya kids to people yet u still live good than them, anyway whats ya kid with kitten like ear lobes, a people who knows nothing but disturb, don’t waste my fxxxxxxxxxxxcking time, got people to see, places to go, not just with u or ya kid. Stop sickening character dude of even employing dat character to youth as its good because u r white, get back to ya nation. Many desperate get there make it and send money back home, why not u dude, stop being a drug baron and nuisance. HIM Wanting to grab ya manhood and food while reverse it, stop dude, stop monitoring what others are eating dude while u, u get money online, live ya life dude.

Movies should be taken to theater a new 1 to reduce Dstv menace, build many theater people to avert whats related to dish menace. Am eying to open 1 dude, why lie, dont let me die and once i got my cash u see me opening 1. Click the link below dude

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ixxQ8Zx2J0Q

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vOT-EVjmEf8

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_movie_theater_chains

The dough taken with cold water, or bread or wheat products taken with cold passion soda explained above u take at your own time not in their vicinity. Can keep them at ya home and partake them at night, even when they annoy ya immediately u cant take it cause they will give ya names like strangling 1 but take it at night in ya own pleasure or free time dude to a shame the Spirit not mr devil as earlier perceived.

Earth crust is 16 km, the green-man dug it long time and left to planet Venus leaving Europe and America empty b4 the whites now in Europe went their to occupy the free left land just like now with going to mass, dude History repeats its self, they dug holes from below to the upper crust as atmosphere, then some they left opened and people know to date though structures have been constructed to hide them while others they dug a big hole again on top of that hole and hurled big rocks then marum to block them, to date people dont know there are holes there but structures as well on-top of them but the white men knows the bearing of those places and now the structures on top of them, so another reason as tourists come to check with other hidden local friends like hawkers if they have been identified or not cause countries as china, Taiwan deemed to be enemies can came like in Migosi Estate and get to the utter crust via them to attack other lands once they got electric-drones which dont use fuel which the white man never fathomed could be so its a threat all-together and china getting to the usa to investigate the same even on white-house land trump meeting dude. It the Gimmick china as E-Asia is using cheating usa they dont want kebi yet writing text to each other using kids to deliver. USA take heed bro, be warned of friends. They want ya to quit, with recent technological advances like E-bikes in Taiwan and other Asian tiger nations. Click the link below 4 more, china even got drones without wings, internal propellers to facilitate the same

https://www.google.com/search?q=passanger+e-drones+without+propelars+photos&tbm=isch&ved=2ahUKEwiFttjopuXnAhVL0RoKHQ8KC68Q2-cCegQIABAA&oq=passanger+e-drones+without+propelars+photos&gs_l=img.3…8646.13170..14034…0.0..0.230.2411.0j6j6……0….1..gws-wiz-img._rMjWfZk1Lo&ei=uzFRXsXsCcuia4-UrPgK&bih=654&biw=1024&client=firefox-b-d

Mtastop haje hiyo character ya kusema mtu anataka chakula yako natena unamumonita kama ako na do, amanikuchizi. Shortly without pity or shame u talk to him good as u want from him,u think i will strungle myself 4get, sasa ni mawe, hebujaribu kunishow dhach, uone kama natowa macho, peleka mtoto wako mtukutu huku, kufa, die dont want my money then u revise it. Weka pesa kwa simu then show us the receipt that i beg u money. Jinga hii, shoga huyu, minataka vitu za bure, nenda kwenyu mwenye meno mbaya, kikuyu hii, ugly animal. Nyofridh, nyofridh, chieth, mime-enda wapi sasa, pesa sitawapatiya, kwenda huku na mboro ovya yenye wajaroga kama ya neli mimi abat

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Mit mal thel mal thep, thup, thep, mala kwa mala, okoweyo nyato cha chien donge amos says denanu rather delanu

aseyudo nyako manyiewo na gikmoko kana kwamba mimi ni misichana, yani kanene tawuotho kagima asoko piny in a haste to spirit molo cool ni mimi ni mtu mzima i should slow down dude. Awinjo kaka nyili winjoga gi machaligi omonegi gikmoko, eeeya wang!!

Euphorbia in water then Hyde placed make gadgets like shoes, mattress, hammer car, pencils etc. When newspaper placed makes even limousine like lincolin cars, xmas lights, tree, ballons and even flowers. As what u put in the dough process to give ya those gadgets i have explained on the mrfoolsir tumblr u replace them with Euphorbia method dude.

Euphobia placed in honey makes honey buns, chapaties, mandazi, cakes, tea, coffee, cocoa, cobblers glue, gum, belts, tv and even shoes and jacket.

Placed in milk u come up with long life milk products, meat, kales, tomato, onions, fruits, cloths, cassava, soup like indomie, flour either wheat or millet, groundnuts, potatoes, milk shake, ghee, yorghurt or ice cream dude. Why go the long way if ya nation got no wheat 4 dough or rye. When the child belly is full then we start joking with the kid buying them just snacks not hiding from responsibility and heaping it on others while they got theirs. Child love starts from there dude.

Dont signal me by side, still it will land u in hell, the question being “why did you not write even in the local flights where no 1 could see on their eye what u r thinking then give it to the fellow. Folks please do that if at dat time you got the cash to board 1.‘

Nimimi ndimi nilikuwa kwa jela, nikasema wengi wanataka kujiuwa juu hawana cahakula mimi unamonitor pesa zangu kwa scrap dealer hapo tu-mtaani na inawachoma. Wacha kuona njaa bwana, peter, dedan hautashika mboloya mtu kwani wewe ni nani. Shoga hii, lazy braggart, okal hizo miguu zako za masquito utajuta, shoga hii, kwenda huko, mwenye njaa, wacha post election etoke, utaona, jinga hii, kuletea watu watoto, bure kabisa, bloodifool. Tho! Wa-eki, have never borrowed u money dude, kwenda ukufe huko, maybe mtu amebadilika mimi but mimi i dont remember, fake huyu, kwenda huko.

Inducting dedanu and his likes on how to live well in future though living big, wanaweza linda the world if white men left 4 mass and given Rusia with its attributes no they will manipulate other tribes to cause war period, their plan dude

[faketextstuff]

The Arrangement Part 2 - The Introduction.

Summary:: You've never imagined yourself being a sugar baby but because of some playful friends and a stroke of luck, you find yourself with a man who is apparently willing to give you the moon and stars. The only problem is, no strings attached. Don't catch feelings, don't fall for a man who thinks money can solve all your issues and doesn't want commitment.

Warnings: None this chapter. Sensitive issues, Eventual Smut, Cursing.

You felt your heart hammering away against your rib cage after reading the last few text from your best friend. Your phone dropped to your lap and you swore your palms were going to start sweating.

A part of you wanted to get up and run for the exit. You almost didn't want to believe the texts from your friend who said the man approaching you was in fact, good looking. Do good looking men need a site to find willing sugar babies? Fuck, did you even want to be a sugar baby? No! You mentally screamed. This was just coffee.

Even though you keep telling yourself that you would never be a man's play thing, the idea of having someone "spoil" you was mighty intriguing. In all of your relationships you never once had a man spoil you or buy you anything nice. You were always the giver that ended up cheated on, verbally abused and left mentally drained. Maybe for one this would be a nice change. To let someone else take care of you in ways you had never known.

However you were not one to freely give up you were not one to give up your body for a few fancy things. Your morals were in conflict with your mind. You were so lost in thought that you didn't even notice the chair across from you being pulled out and occupied.

"You're thinking about running, aren't you?" A deep voice pulled you from your thoughts causing you to jump back in your seat, your eyes widening to the size of dinner plates as you gawked at the man across from you.

Your jaw fell a bit slack as you drank in the sight before you. This couldn't be him could it? He had to be no more than early to mid twenties, he had what seemed to be, dyed white-ish silver hair, with a very boyish yet handsome face. His dark eyes were shadowed by the baseball hat that sat pulled down lowly on his head.

A black mask sat nestled right below his chin and his attire was completely different from that of what you had pictured. He was dressed in casual clothes, a black leather jacket that matched your own, a loose fitting white shirt under it, and dark blue jeans. Hell, his style actually made it look like the two of you planned a couple's outfit. He was beautiful. There was no doubt to that. This couldn't be him! No way in hell!

As you gaped in shock, his lips curled up into a small cute gummy smile. "What?" He asked knocking you right out of your own thoughts.

"I'm sorry." You blushed while tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You hadn't meant to stare but you just couldn't help it. "I'm waiting for someone." You spoke up in a soft polite manner.

The man's smile widened as he leaned his elbows against the wood table top. "I'm the one you're waiting for, Babygirl." He whispered in a soft voice, giving you a wink. "I have to say, Your profile picture on the site didn't do you proper justice, you're much more beautiful in person, Y/N."

Holy shit! You mentally screamed. This was him! How could a man this young possibly need with a sugar baby!? "Y-You're the one who messaged me?" You blinked a few times.

"Yup. I'm obviously not what you were expecting, judging by that look." He chuckled lightly before leaning back in his seat, his arms crossing loosely over his chest. "I can't tell by your expression if this a good surprise or bad surprise."

"It's a good surprise." You found yourself blurting out, "I mean...you're a lot younger than I was imagining." Your face had to be as red as an apple by this point. You were almost ashamed by your confession.

Chuckling once more the man shook his head, cocking it slightly to the side. "I get it, most women think all Sugar Daddies are old men looking for a hot young thing they can play with. They give the rest of us a bad rep." He shrugged casually.

"Why are you on a Sugar Daddy site to begin with?" You found your voice, eyebrow shooting up and giving a head tilt of your own towards the man in front of you.

"It's simple," he stated, his tone causal and nonchalant as he spoke coolly, "I'm a very busy business owner who travels all over the world at the drop of a hat. I'm stupid rich and have no problem spending my money on people or things I want too. I don't need a clingy girlfriend who is going to hang on my every move. I don't want a woman who will try to entrap me by marrying her. My love is my job and I don't know about you, but I don't see a lot of girls taking kindly to being number two in a relationship." He explained carefully.

You did understand that, as a woman if you were in a committed relationship you would had to know you're always going to number two and will never have your love's full attention. "I get that."

"Even if I don't want the commitment that a full relationship brings, I do miss companionship and the physical aspect of being with another person. I need a professional at my side, a person who is willing to be on my arm at big work events that wont expose me or my dirty secrets to the media. As a professional I treat this like a business deal. A girl on my arm and on the rare occasion "in my arms" in exchange for a lavish lifestyle and everything she could ever need."

Unable to stop yourself, your nose crinkled at the mention of "in my arms". "I don't think I'm your girl, sir." You sighed shaking your head. "It sounds, amazing, if I'm honest. I mean who wouldn't want a lavish lifestyle and be on the arm of a handsome man like you, but I don't do sex for money. I'm sorry."

At your comment, his smile returned and he leaned across the table, reaching out to take your hand. "That's why your my ideal girl. I'm so busy, sex is far off and not very often. Like a said, I love to spoil people. Also for some reason, the fact that you're not eager to jump into it makes you more appealing. I've had a few girls who didn't even hesitate before signing the contract not realizing I wouldn't be at their beck and call every hour. While I want to spoil you and treat you like the queen you are, I need a girl who wont be upset that I'm not at her feet twenty-four-seven. A woman who can be independent while being at my beck and call. When I call, you answer." His hand gave yours a gentle squeeze that caused your stomach to do flips.

"I still don't see how I can help you. Being at your beck and call, I have a life too." You sighed, gently pulling your hand from his grasp. "It's a tempting offer, believe me but I'm not a sugar baby, I don't know the first thing about big business or fancy galas. I'm a waitress at a shit hole restaurant who lives one step away from poverty. While I'd love to actually be spoiled for once in my life and not be the one taking care of everyone else, I couldn't sleep at night knowing you were paying me to do everything a friend could do. Plus you haven't even given me your name. How do I know you're not a scam artist who pulls innocent young girls into a web of lies and false hopes?"

"Call me Suga." He spoke up, his dark eyes boring into yours.

"Suga? Really?" You bit back a chuckle of amusement. "Well, no matter what, I'm not your girl. I'm sorry you wasted your time on a dead end like me." You sighed with a shake of your head. "This just isn't me." You added as you grabbed for your small black purse and went to rise from your seat.

"Give me a week." Suga stood up along with you. Clearly he wasn't one to take no for an answer. "Give me one week to show you the life I'm offering. Let me spoil you for one week and if this still isn't your thing I'll leave you alone for good."

"I just gave you coffee, well--almost gave you coffee, you said coffee and that's it if I say no." A huff escaped your lips before you turned to leave, your head held high as you were determined to stick to your morals. "So we can order some coffee and go our separate ways."

Suga bit back a smirk as he watched you make your way towards the counter to make good on your coffee promise. No wasting any time he followed you confidently. He had never had a woman flat out refuse him the way you just did after he made the offer, this was refreshing to him and only made him more determined to break down your resolve.

Before you could even make it to the counter he stopped you by grabbing your wrist gently. "What do you have to lose for just one week if you're so close to poverty, like you said? Sign a contract with me for one week of dinner, dates, and the work event I mentioned. No sex, just a simple contract."

"Why would I need a contract?" You frowned.

"It's mostly to protect my business and fellow employees. We can't afford a scandal, and it's to protect you."

You jerked your wrist away and placed your hands firmly on your hips. "Fuck, you're persistent." You sighed with a roll of your eyes. "Protect me from what?"

Suga placed a hand on your shoulder and lead you up against the wall and away from anyone who dared to listen in on your conversation. "Former girls who didn't take it well when I ended the arrangement, other men who would try to get company secrets from you unknowingly, protect you from me forcing you to pay back every dime I spent on you. My lawyer is very thorough when it comes to protecting both of us."

It did make sense. You couldn't imagine having to pay a rich person back for even a cup of ramen, your bank account was close to pocket change, and you hadn't been able to pay your bills in a month, no matter how many extra shifts you took up at the restaurant. "If I agree to this now, what if I change my mind later?"

You almost smiled as Suga's eyes lit up with a spark of hope. "Come to my office and read over the contract. You can see for yourself. You can edit and revise things that aren't yo your liking if you see fit. I don't know why, but you stood out above all the other girls I saw. I want to take a chance on you. A week is all I'm asking to get to know you. Seven days and if you don't like what I'm offering, you'll never hear from me again."

You fell silent for a moment, his words playing in your mind like a broken record. One week, seven days. What could seven days hurt? Hell, you knew you could sorely use the money. We're your morals more important than your lively hood? Of course! However, no sexual favors had to be preformed, no strings attached. Just date him for seven days and get paid hopefully enough to pay your rent for another month. "Where's your office?"

#bts fanfic #bts angst #bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts suga x reader

[jamesrbailey]

former drummer attacked my character on facebook, like a child. hilarious film at 11.

i mean, he was REALLY gonna set me right. he had words to say and i was gonna listen cause everything that he said is valid. everything he thinks about me is completely right. i oppress women (tell my mother, my niece, my girlfriend, and my sister), i hate gay people (tell my friend Heather Hawkins) and i'm against transgender people (tell my friend Allie French). let's not talk about the intimate conversations i have had with these people i mention, and the fact that these conversations consist of me rooting them on and giving them kudos for being who they are and owning their shit. to even go after him, at this point, is pathetic. consider the source? i don't even have to describe him like i usually would. thats the beauty of it. i don't even have to mention anything about him because everyone already knows, except for him. he thinks the sun shines out of his assholes, and he's gonna be a political pundit and run for office! HURRAH! virtue signallng at it's most pathetic and embarrassing worst. he created an entire scenario in his head about me and went with it, like he knew all about me and was gonna show me what for, and NONE of it made any sense. none of it will stick to me. not one negative thing he said about me is true. i got a million texts from friends assuring me that they didn't feel that way about me. my niece even texted me to tell me that he is wrong. I literally spent a day and a half calming people down and telling them that I KNOW that they dont think about me like that. i got an inbox of messages from people that i wont even mention, because i don't want to pull them into anything, i will never share our conversations with anyone. one on one conversation is private and it stays that way with me to me own detriment. out of all of that. what i learned is that people actually do care about me enough to come to my aid and tell me personally that they disregarded his tangent as bullshit, and that i have a lot of friends. more than i thought i had, that share mutual respect with me, and that fact right there is bigger and stronger than anything he could possibly do to me. now he has to live with that fact that he stirred up a big pot of shit out of petty reasons and hearsay that i "talked shit about him" like i could give a fuck about him at all enough to talk shit about him. if i said anything, it was the cold hard truth, and it's so ugly that he doesn't like it and can't accept it, and thats what caused his reaction. the truth, i will say here and now that i have no stock in talking shit about people. i have better things to do with my life then care about the nonsense of other peoples stupid lives, and i think that if anyone knows me, they know that about me. im not much of a people person. why would i go out of my way to talk shit? for what purpose? his petty little jealous argument of "im jay bailey and i think im bigger and better at everything and smarter than everyone" is complete projection. those we're his words, not mine. i have never pretended to be better than anyone else. again, if you know me, you know just how down on myself i get a lot of the time. im the first person to disregard myself, thats the way it is with depressed people. we tend to not like ourselves very much, but we work at it, so i for sure do not think very highly of myself at all. its quite the opposite actually. better at everything? i refuse to stand court martialed for my natural talents. i never asked for any of this. in fact, i tried to hide it from everyone for a very long time OUT OF FEAR OF THIS HAPPENING. im not better at things than anyone. i just pick things up faster. i was born like that. ask my mother, i started talking early, started walking early, started reading early. my mother tells me stories of me talking in the grocery store as a child and women coming up to her and asking how old i am because i looked way too small to be talking that way. through the years. my family has used the term "gifted", and i never understood what it meant until going out into the real world and seeing other people. it still struggle with that term cause i don't feel like im any different or gifted from anyone else. i just do shit and i do it to the best of my ability. why all the jealousy? i don't understand why i'm being made to feel ashamed for this? my brain doesn't shut off. it's not my fault. this isn't something i'm trying to do to people intentionally. i don't know what to tell anyone, some things just make sense to me that doesn't seem to make sense to anyone else, and there's a certain disconnect there between me and other people. i can't explain it. i can look at a computer just by sight and know exactly whats going on. i can look at a circuit and trace the flow of electricity with my eyes. this stuff just comes natural to me, i don't know why, but i am done apologizing for it because it makes other people feel insecure and ill equipped. im tired of being the measuring stick. im tired of being the blame target. the best thing that came out of all of that is that he outed himself to everyone. for one split second, the real him came out and everyone saw him in all his disgusting glory just how petty, and manipulative, and cruel and conniving he is. what a worm. no one had been exposed to that side of him before, but i lived with him for three years and i heard him shit talk every person on the planet, always making himself the victim, the drama queen, always somebody did this to "me". woe is me. it was exhausting and pathetic, but i shrugged it off because i simply wanted to play music and have a band. i just wanted to write songs. apparently, you have to bring your entire burden of bullshit with you into a band. i had not realized this. this was new ground for me. so at this point, the damage was done to him all by himself. i certainly didn't experience a crack on anything from my side of things. he yelled a lot of words at a brick wall, and felt better about himself for 5 minutes before going home and pissing in his pants. even if i did confront him in public and have words with him, it would be so completely pathetic that it would just be ugly. no one would want to see that. nothing would come from that. it would just be another turd in a sea of toilets flushing down the drain. but all the little lemmings of the internet had to have their bite of the pie and put in their witty quips, and stoke the fires, and point out the obvious, OH LOOK EVERYONE! WE'RE ALL MAKING OBSERVATIONS! YAAAAYY!! and none of them had anything better to do but goad it on and provoke more bullshit cause they just HAVE to have a comment. your un-importance is still a constant. thanks.

#writers #writers on tumblr #writersoninstagram #writers on instagram #writers on wattpad #writers on writing #writers on #writing #writerscreed #abstractcommunity #poetryportal #poetrypost #poetry #poem #Poems #poet #prose poetry #poets on tumblr #poesia #poetry of the day #poetry on Instagram #poetryofinstagram #poetryofig #poems on tumblr #poemsofig #poems of tumblr #poemsofinstagram #poems of instagram #poems in tumblr #poemsonig

[blogbatsinthebelfrylove]

It's long, but worth the read. If need be, skip to the end. 10/27/15 4:13 PM Well, we made it out alive. We survived. I survived. I am a stronger person today than I was a year and a half ago. I am a stronger person today than I have ever been, and more kind. I was humbled by my experience last year. Things were tough. Shortly after I wrote the note above She went to see Ari. I left. I left her. By the time I came back she was ready to be with me. We did our normal crap, back and forth, should we be together, should we not... and around September 2014 we found our common ground. The manic had finally subsided and she were able to see clearly. She was medicated and it worked almost immediately. I wish I could have talked her into it sooner. On October 21st 2014 I lost my cousin... he was like a brother to me and I was devastated. For the first time in our relationship she didn't run. She didn't leave me there to pick up my pieces and take care of myself. She actually helped me get back up. She asked me everyday for almost a year to marry her; really marry her. I politely said "not today, love." every day. From August 18th - about Christmas of last year she asked me to be with her. I would not take her back until she had proven to me that she was going to be a committed adult and eventually she proved that. On June 28th 2015 I agreed to marry her; our 7th year anniversary. She took me on an amazing date, we watched the sun set and the stars come out. We listened to the beautiful serenade of the spanish family across the way and sat by the fire. When she asked me, She were so scared that she almost cried. She was convinced I would say no. She had told her family and mine that sheu was going to ask. I'm not going to lie... that put a lot of pressure on me, but I still said yes. I knew I wanted to marry her, even if it wasn't right then. A few months went by and the guilt of what happened last year started to really eat at her. She could barely look at herself. She could barely listen to the stories of what happened while she was in the mania. She could barely remember any of it. Sometime in the beginning of October she told me that she was still in love with Ari, I was so angry with myself for giving her another chance. I was so angry with myself for being so foolish and naive. I can not adequately describe how I felt because there were no words.... All the same, she had been faithful and honest. She had not acted on anything, although she could have easily done so. She had asked Ari to leave her alone several times up until this point. I could barely look at her. There was a fire in me that I didn't know how to control, so I left and I painted. I understood though... that's my problem. I always understand. I am always sympathetic; although she may not think so. We moved forward for a week; until I had my next counseling session. I've been going to counseling for a while now and it seems to be helping. I'm finding my footing and the strong, independent woman that I once was. I told her that I could not do that again. I was simply trying to say, if after all of this time you don't know if you want to be with me, then there is no choice to be made. If she loved me, she wouldn't be struggling with this and that I really wished her the best and that I hope along her journey that she was able to find her way. I was trying to be supportive. Now if you're reading this now, you will probably agree with her and feel that I was leaving. I get that. I come off very aggressive often. I just prefer to be forward and say what needs to be said. She left work early because she was so distraught (which I felt HORRIBLE about) and when she came home she wouldn't talk to me. I was very confused at the time because I didn't know what was going on and I wanted to talk more. She refused to talk to me and decided to go for a drive. I left. I took my computer, projector, makeup, hair products, the works, and I left. She was very cold with me, for good reason, and gave me the impression that she did not want to move forward at this time. I let it lay. I turned my phone on silent, grabbed my huge bottle of wine and drank my sorrows away. My god children were there that night and I tried to keep it together. They didn't need to see me like that or be exposed to that. Of course, they knew that sometime was wrong. Aunt AJ wasn't being Aunt AJ, so the littlest one sat on my lap and just hugged me as tight as she could. Later the oldest jumped up on me and we hugged for a long time too. I needed that. I needed to feel supported and safe. I needed a safe place to go this time, and I had found it. So I stayed. I turned my phone on silent and I stayed. Around 8PM she was starting to figure out that I was not coming home and began to call me repeatedly. I took a sleep-aid and curled up on the couch and saw this around 10. I couldn't leave her there... I couldn't let her face that alone. She is not as strong as I am. She would not survive. So I called her and talked to her and we ended up staying on the phone all night, asleep. Some patterns never die. We never could fully separate. We decided it was best for her to not be with me while she worked this out. Now, before you start judging, you need to know how much progress she had made. She was not manic this time. She had not intentions to start seeing other people, or to even see Ari. The guilt was just eating her alive and she needed closure. She needed to tell Ari just how fucked up she had made her. Just how much damage that she had done, and she needed to give that guilt to her, because not only was she carrying her own, but she was also carrying Ari's. She created a fake facebook account and wrote her on there. She told her exactly how she felt, how angry, disgusted, hurt, etc. that she was with Ari. She waited to make sure that Ari read it, Ari then started to respond. At this point she blocked her, and delete the account. She had all of the closure she needed. That was about a month ago. There has been no gut wrenching guilt, no second thoughts, nothing. I feel as though we may finally be free of this whole thing and be able to move forward successfully. I hope so, but I will not be weak again. I will not allow the tresspasses I did last summer, and she knows that.   1/24/18 May 25th 2016 I left. Nothing changed. I started a new life. I became a peer support specilist. I packed my bags and left. I got a house. I fell in love, and while it didn't end how I wanted, I fell in love again. It is possilbe. It is possible to move on from the person you thought you could never get over. Her and I talked for a year. Then we stopped. Now if I see her in public she wont look at me. She will run acctually. I dont know what to do with the situation I am in now. I found myself in the same situation. I think I need to go to counseling again. But I started school. I have two jobs. At one point I had three. I AM capable. I AM worthy. So are YOU. You dont have to settle. You are worth more than that. You are loved; if not by yourself, but at least by someone else. You are WORTHY of love.

#excerpt from a story i'll never write #excerpt from a book I'll never write #excerptfromabookillneverwrite #excerptsofneverwrittenbooks #poetry #poem #Poems #poetic #Love poem #female poets #female artists #spoken word #spoken poetry #spoken thoughts #spilled ink #spilled thoughts #spilled words #spilled feelings #spilled poetry

[waitinginthedarke]

BIGBANG - MAFIA!AU - SERIES 3

A BIGBANG FANFICTION

Summary: The saying goes, ‘the mafia is family, the mafia is home’…but even if ‘the mafia is home’…is it really the right place to raise a child?

Masterlist (including series one and two)

Disclaimer: Mentions of (familial) physical abuse.

Chapter 8

SEUNGHYUN

‘I don’t suppose you’ve spoken to the boy recently, Seunghyun?’

His heart stops.

‘What?’

‘Pardon. Seunghyun. …and I asked if you’d spoken to the boy recently…I assume you know who-‘

‘No.’

He doesn’t say anything else, simply tilting his head in the direction of his father to give him his answer, before beginning to stride off down the corridor once more, Kyungil’s wrist firmly in his grip despite the other man’s obvious intentions to remain with him no matter what; the stoic expression, and straight back that he was sporting in defiance of Seunghyun’s father offering him silent support.

But that’s before the end of the corridor, that before had revealed two doors with the light from outside spilling through them in a temptation of escape, are suddenly being blocked by around 15 men, each with cold, unshakable, expressions.

‘Seunghyun, you wont be leaving before we’ve had a chat-‘

‘Tell your men to move now, ….before I kill them.’

Anybody could tell from his tone of voice that Seunghyun had now bypassed the point of polite interaction, and was now ready to turn full assassin mode to escape the confines of his father’s prison-like mansion, the walls of which seemed to be closing in on him by the second, and the sense only had Seunghyun’s fighting instincts increasing in his muscles.

‘You don’t have any weapons, Seunghyun. I’ve asked politely, and now I demand that we talk and you hear me out-‘

‘You think I need weapons to fight you and your men?’

The sneer that he speaks the words with has Kyungil’s shoulders visibly tightening, the way Seunghyun’s teeth were gritted in anger as he slowly turns to look at the man who was posing as his father, revealing an even darker side to the man than any Kyungil had seen before…

…but it was a side in which he noticed one thing he’d never seen from him before…

…he was afraid.

‘Seunghyun STOP being ridiculous. And follow me to my office NOW! Otherwise I will have you dragged there-‘

‘I’ll give you 10 seconds to call them off.’ Seunghyun responds, his voice deepening impossibly, and he gently drops Kyungil’s wrist to signal he was preparing for an oncoming fight, the thought exciting him, yet terrifying him to the bone as he senses the imminent danger to his partner with the move.

‘Seunghyun….If you don’t stop this nonsense, I swear to God-‘ his father sneers back as he takes a step toward him, Seunghyun only having to glance up at him once to warn him to stay back, before he stops in his approach, and instead appears to snort in anger.

’10….9….’

‘You haven’t changed at all! Always thinking you controlled the situation and never listening to orders despite your position-’

‘8…7….6….’

‘I don’t know how Jiyong works with you, or even why his father took you under his wing in the first place- since you were always such a brat whenever I attempted to train you…all you ever did was fantasize over that boy-‘

‘…5….4…..’

It was in the way that Seunghyun had started to spit the numbers from between his teeth that Kyungil came to the understanding that the boy really was important in all this, dropping his jacket to the floor and rolling his sleeves up as he did so. And its as his father continues talking, continues unravelling Seunghyun despite his refusal to hear his words, that Kyungil realized that in some way, the child was attached to Seunghyun and that because of this, he’d caused him to be like he was; quiet, angry, and …irreversibly young.

‘-I told you time and time again, boy. You can’t fight me…not whilst you remain so naïve; trapped in a fantasy world where consequences don’t come for those who test the wrong path; those who want things they cant have-‘

‘3…2…’

‘But now…’

‘…1.’

‘-now you will learn your lesson.’

YOUNGBAE

‘HOW COULD YOU LET HER GO OFF LIKE THAT!? HOW IN GOD’S NAME COULD YOU-’

‘YOUNGBAE! SHUT THE FUCK UP AND GET MARK ON THE PHONE!-‘

‘BUT-‘

‘SHUT UP!’

The volume at which Jiyong shouts the words has the car descending into silence as the shortest of the group stares at him momentarily in disbelief, completely taken aback by his friend’s command, before angrily moving to dig his phone out of his pocket and ring the elusive brother, questions upon questions spinning around his mind, and remaining without answers.

‘Where are you?’ he asks as soon as he hears the line pick up, not bothering to wait for a response in his frustration.

‘I- Wait, why are you calling me? Where’s-‘

‘No time for questions, where are you?’

‘The law building in the centre of town, the building Seunghyung was dragged into is right across from here. But where’s Y/N-‘

‘She’s gone back to the mansion-‘

‘WHY?! I swear if Jiyong is bossing her around i’ll-‘

‘Don’t finish that sentence, or I will be forced under duty to finish you. Do you understand?’ Youngbae snaps suddenly, the oncoming threat in Mark’s words riling him up even more than Jiyong’s apparently bad mood, and the threat of punishment in the man’s tone is enough to silence the other guy.

‘If I find out anything bad has happened to her, I wont stay still.’ Mark answers sinisterly instead, hanging up before any other answer can be given, and the abrupt silence has Youngbae hissing beside Jiyong as the car speeds into the city.

‘He’s at the law building-‘

‘What did he say about Y/N?’ Jiyong cuts in, expression stonily blank as he stares out of the windscreen, the silence that follows his words weighing heavily on his friend, Daesung remaining quiet and unmoving in the back seat and causing Yougnbae to grit his teeth in response to his immobile helpfulness.

‘He asked where she was….that was all.’

‘He threatened me when you told him she wasn’t with us, I assume.’ Jiyong responds, turning a sudden corner and causing Youngbae to crash against the window, the smaller man sneering in minor pain before answering his friend.

‘Yeah, but I threatened him and told him to back off, obviously- JESUS! WILL YOU SLOW DOWN?!’

He curses as Jiyong brakes suddenly and he’s pushed heavily against the dashboard of the car despite his seat belt holding him firmly, the other man not wasting any time, before jumping out of the car and stalking toward the building they’d pulled up in front of, the big glowing ‘LAW’ sign making Youngbae sigh in relief, before he realizes just why Jiyong was heading so quickly into the building.

God...Y/N would kill him if he let anything happen to her lover or her brother.

‘Why are we back here? What about Seunghyun-‘

‘Jihoon, if you could be quiet for one moment, Love, that would be amazing.’ You mutter under your breath as you speed toward the record room, the queasy feeling in your stomach confirming what you already suspected, despite the way you struggle to open the door and lunge toward the cabinet that held the information on all the members of the gang.

‘I’m going to call, Jiho-‘

‘Okay, honey.’ You mutter back, not really paying attention to him anymore; his sweet disposition starting to get on your nerves a little with the way he always wanted to help, and how his innocence always demanded that he knew what was going on, his constant questioning having followed you through the building since you’d climbed off of the back of his bike.

Its in that moment, as your fingers are flicking through the alphabetical filing tabs in the master file, and you see the thin gap between C and D where Seunghyun’s file would be held, that a vague memory of a late night conversation with Jiyong during the first days of living in the mansion, suddenly surfaces in your mind.

~

‘Is this the infamous ‘master file’?’ you ask with a chuckle as a large grey drawer file gets wheeled through the door of the office, and into the small safe room, the amount of bubblewrap, as well as duct tape and chains, wrapped around the object amusing you greatly. Jiyong converses with the moving men as they position the hunk of metal and unwrap it, before he thanks the man as he walks to get more things, and proceeds to turn to you with a smirk.

‘It would indeed. So, you’ll have to familiarize yourself with it, if you were serious about the sharing thing!’ he explains, winking at you as he mosies over to the padded recliner chair you were sat in, cradling your face with his hand as he smiles down at you, and chuckling at the way you snuggle into his palm, before he leans down to drop a kiss to your forehead.

‘Lets see what we’ve got then!’ you chuckle, practically having heart eyes as you stare up at him, before jumping to your feet and skipping into the new record room to inspect the drawers.

‘Key?’ you ask cutely after trying all the handles and realizing they were all stuck fast, turning to him with your hands held out and a pout on your face, which is quickly kissed off by his hungry lips, before he leans past you with his own bunch of keys and unlocks the first drawer.

‘Can I have a key too?’ you ask as he pulls it out for you, blinking up at him pleadingly and grinning when he rolls his eyes at your demands, before nodding, appearing mildly surprised when you lean up to kiss him, but recovering with a quick smirk.

‘The first drawer is A-H. Which would include Annonymous -‘

‘Some of these files are really big!’ you exclaim as you take in the sight before you, cutting Jiyong off, before he goes on with a chuckle.

‘Through to Choi…Dong…-‘

‘Oooh, Seunghyun’s file?’ you ask excitedly, recognising the last name and immediately flicking through the tab, hurriedly reaching into C, only to withdraw one single piece of paper, with very little information on it.

‘Is this it?’ you ask, rather put out after reading it, only to find a brief summary of how he’d made his way to Jiyong’s father’s gang, as well as his biological details (height, weight, blood type, shoe size), and the details for his bank account- so that he could get paid.

‘Seunghyun’s file is…interesting.’ Jiyong mutters behind you, his hands sliding onto your hips as he looks over your shoulder having you look up at him questioningly with the tone of voice he’d used.

‘Interesting?’

‘Uh…’ Jiyong murmurs, his eyes tightening signalling he was trying to think up an answer, glancing at you to see the suspicious look you were giving him, before sighing and taking the slip of paper from you to put it back into the file.

‘Hey! I was reading-‘

‘Come with me.’ He says quietly, cutting your protest off and slipping his hand into yours to pull you from the room, proceeding to guide you out of the office and toward the stairs, before completely baffling you by making you get into the car, and refusing to answer your questions in the most playful manner he could as he drove you down the long driveway.

25 minutes later the two of you pulled into the old apartment HQ, the place now seeming absurdly quiet to you as you walk in the front door and have to turn the lights on, still wondering why Jiyong had brought you here in the first place, and just being about to turn around and ask him, when he proceeds to grip your waist and guide you gently through the apartment to the old office.

‘Since we’re joining up and becoming partners, there’s one very important thing you need to learn about Seunghyun.’ He begins as he shuts the door behind you both, before slipping past you to walk toward his desk, stopping at the side of it and knealing down next to the solid oak panel, before looking over at you with a surprisingly serious look.

‘What?’ you ask.

‘He’s not who you think he is.’

‘Ji-‘ you’re about to scold him, thinking he was messing around since that was the cliché line everyone used when they worked in the business you were in, but just as you chuckle gently at his antics, you realize he wasn’t laughing.

‘He’s not who he thinks he is either, Y/N.’

That comment had you.

‘What do you mean?’

He sighs as he lays his palm flat against the side of the desk, staring contemplatively at it for a moment, before reaching up and flicking to almost invisible clips away to reveal the false end as it falls away, proceeding to reach inside momentarily as you walk over, to pull out the slim wad of papers that were the only thing housed within.

‘This is his actual file. It contains….everything about him. …even the things he doesn’t know.’ Jiyong murmurs, standing back up and staring at the papers solemly for a moment, before his darkened, sad eyes flicker up to look at you.

‘As much as you may want to, Y/N. You must never look at these papers. I am the only member of this gang who knows the true history behind Seunghyun, and I want it to remain that way…for your own good;…please, just do as I say.’

Usually you would have argued with him, told him he was being ridiculous, that nothing could have been so bad that Jiyong had to carry the weight of this huge secret on his shoulders by himself. However, it was the broken expression, and the tired shoulders, coupled with the death grip that he held onto the papers with that told you not to mess with him.

And so rather than push him any further, you’d simply nodded your head and watched him hold tightly to the files as the two of you had walked back downstairs to the car and made your way home.

After that…you’d never seen them again.

~

That didn’t mean you hadn’t kept a keen eye on Jiyong.

It had proved just how tired your lover had gotten lately that he’d started letting things slip; the way you’d been held hostage in your own house being the very first indicator to this fact, and you were almost sure that some of the others had noticed if their guarded expressions when they were around Jiyong were anything to go by.

But just because you’d been worried about him, didn’t mean you didn’t still want to know what Seunghyun’s secret was.

So, after momentarily hanging your head in your hands when you find the crevice for Seunghyun’s file was empty, where you presume said man had come to steal the information in an attempt to confirm if it was actually his father that had come to find him, the minute you remember when you’d watched Jiyong construct the new desk in the office, you double back and start inspecting every edge and corner for a concealed hiding place.

And despite always admiring Jiyong for his intellect and quick wit, you cant help but curse him out under your breath, when instead of finding the same hidden panel as the desk in the old HQ on the left hand side…you find it on the right instead.

‘Did you actually want me to find this?’ you mutter under your breath, ignoring the strange glances from Jihoon who remained at the windows, still muttering away to Jiho on the phone, presumably explaining his absence, before jumping up when you exclaim happily and extract the all too familiar bunch of papers.

‘Whats that?’ Jihoon asks as you get to your feet once more, your heart racing a million miles a second as your eyes graze the blank first sheet, inscribed with only ‘CHOI SEUNGHYUN’, the capital letters intimidating and mysterious all at once, and you’re just about able to cotton on to the sound of Jihoon’s footsteps as he walks over to you, just before he can see the two lone words.

‘STAY THERE!’ you shout at him, appearing to startle him as he instantly sinks into a defensive crouch, eyes wide as they stare up at you expectant of a move, before he simply straightens up and frowns at you in questioning confusion.

‘You cant see this. I’m sorry.’ Is all you say, shooting him a pleading look, and seeing him reluctantly step back to the window before you refocus your attention on the paper in front of you, and begin to read…

SEUNGHYUN

‘STOP!’

Just as Seunghyun had his limbs poised for attack, the singular word is ringing deafeningly loudly through the corridor that he was facing his father in, the force of momentary pause catching everyone in a moment of stasis, and he watches as his father, the man behind him, and Kyungil beside him, all turn their attention to something, or rather someone, behind him.

‘Choi Seunghyun, follow me, now.’

The voice had a different effect from that of the first time he’d heard his father speak upon waking up to find out where he was. This voice, was cracked,….dry….old….yet evoked memories of such clarity in his mind, that Seunghyun became stunned as images of grey corridors, stone floors, and isolated cells flicker like a black and white film reel through his mind, tempting him to believe they weren’t real, even though every cell in his body seemed to recognise them.

‘Seunghyun…who is that?’

Kyungil’s whisper from beside him, has Seunghyun turning his head slowly to peer over at the other man, seeing his comfortingly beautiful face that was marred by concern, and minor fright, and feeling his stomach sink further as he begins to shift his feet on the floor in an effort to turn around.

Before he can even answer the sound of footsteps clicking back down the corridor catches his attention, and he turns quickly to look toward it, only seeing the back of someone short, and apparently feminine, before his brain catches up with his actions, and another onslaught of black and white images infects his mind. His hands are flying to cradle his temples as a sudden pain seizes his skull, and before he can even attempt to open his eyes to get a second glimpse of the person who’d given him the command, before he could even try to assume a defensive pose in case someone tried to attack him amidst the pure torture forcing his feet stumbling in the direction of the woman walking away from him, his vision is slowly turning black.

And the last thing he sees is the terrified expression of Kyungil as he cries his name…

‘SEUNGHYUN!!’

(T.B.C)

[ilygsd]

200918: 1

someone fuck me in the asshole honestly im shocked how can this dude NOT UNDERSTAND??? hes really good at cognitive empathy, he has a nice moral compass he follows ”be kind, be nice” but he cant fucking FEEL what hes doing

and like....... thats important to me??? and apaprebtly NO ONE has ever criticized him for it or whatever? like his ”intentions”?? ofc he cant help he doesnt feel emotional empathy but he literally cant spot the DIFFERENCE!!! he’s like ”as long as im kind and a nice human being” like bitch NOO!!!! i like you!!! you ”like” me, but you like me bc u think im interesting and you think we can learn from each other. which also is important OF COURSE!! but BITCH I LIKE YOU BC I FEEL FOR YOU THATS DIFFERENT

we’ve known each other for like 3 weeks, met 5 times and we’ve already had 3 major fights??? mainly over text/phone but still.... he’s so fycking mean? he really tries to manipulate me that ugly fucking whore!!! he guilt trips me all the fuxking time i cant say anything he’ll explode and i need to apologize or some shit otherwisw it would never end. and i know what the fuck he’s doing because i used to be the exact same. honestly we are similar in many aspecrs EXCEPT for the ”feel”-part. i feel TOO MUCH. and the difference is that im not manipulating him.... because i KNOW i cant. i know he’d see right through me, there’s no POINT

like i used to be like that too, maybe i still am. i ALWAYS win fights, no mercy. its like i turn off my empathy during fights but AT LEAST i feel AFTERWARDS!!! he doesnt. he realize he did wrong bc of his ”morality”. bitch i could CRY, because he literally scolded me over phone when i was on the bus and there was NOTHING i could do to stop him. i tried to talk to him but he only continues cus i fkn refuse to oBEY HIS ORDERS??? but i cant hang up either cus then he’d never talk to me again and i’d feel like shit......

he’s pretty calm irl, ive never seen him angry irl and i hope i never will holy SHIT!!! he’s so good at hurting, like he turns everything youve ever said to him against you. he’s so fucking good at it cus he’s so god damn good at reading people. thats what makes him so charming. i DONT UNDERSTAND how can his precious girlfriends not have CARED??? apparently i’m the first to criticize him and one of the few to trigger him and im like..... bruh how?? i literally dont say anything and you fucking explode?? are your family and friends blind??? are you doing this to me because you THINK the manipulation will work??

also...... he sees it as something positive that sick bastard. hes like ”well i think this could be good” and im like ”uhhhh bitch it is I who get scolded???” and hems like ”but i feel and too :((” he’s such a fkn dumbass. this is his politics too. he believes in reverse racism and is probably sexist too smhhh. i was like ”are u dumb, u hit me in the face and tell me its bad for you too bc u feel vad abt hitting me??”

i am impressed by how he chose to ve ”kind” or whatever instead of psycho even though i still think he’s selfish and does it for his own gain aka he LOVES to learn things, experience things. he’s very ambitious, energetic and curious. but he doesnt understand. he’s like ”well im kind to you thats all that matters?”

the thing is, he’s not even kind??? he basically forced me to taste his disgusting vanilla coffee OTHERWISE he would take the blanket away??? he sees it as teasing and it kind of is yeah..... if i didnt know that his 1000% serious?? he honestly think its a ducking compromose?? im lile ”uhh a improvisera would be for me to taste a little coffee and then you to give me another blanket or AT LEAST stop nagging”

and when i finally tasted the ugly coffee he wanted to know if i thought it was good and i said ”yeah its ok” bc im not a liar, it was better than expected. and hes like ”thats all i wanted to hear” I KNOW BITCH, YOURE NOT THAT FUCKING SLICK ITS PRETTY FKN OBVIOUS

also he always adds rules??? everythings always on his conditions? also he kinda thinks i should be thankful for him not being an asshole??? or maybe its that i actually VRITICIZE his intentions. yeah i think that brothers him. i think he thinks it entertaining because he doesnt care when he get angry. i didnt use to either. i could just forget te fight and move on, it wasnt important to me. but fuck now when i KNOW what its like......

im like ”ur threatening me to drink coffee” and hes like ”arent u happy i put extra much vanilla for you?? i usually drink much stronger but i didnt for u? arent u happy i gave u the blanket? i actually was goong to put it on the couch and leave u cold but i didnt?” BUT HE ONLY PUT ECTRA VANILLA SO I WPULD TELL HIM IT TASTES GOOD SO HIS EGO CAN BE BOOSTED

calso he kinda forced me to drink alohol?? i was like ”im feeling like shit if i throw up its tour fault and you will have to clean up” and he’s like ”no you’ll have to clean up” BITCH I SONT EVEN WANT TO DRINK YOURE PUSHING ME

soooo many red flags fuck i really SHOULD leave now when i can and now when im not too emotionally invested. but oMG IM SO CURIOUS!!! we’re so similar yet so different!!! we can relate to each other in some ways the bad thing is that since he actually cant FEEL empathy, he doesnt BELEIVE me even when i tell him the truth. im not sad bc i want to manipulate him. im not even sad that his words are huetful even though they are, because i know he’s fucking weong. im sad because he treats me lile this. im sad because i like HIM!!! i genuinely LIKE HIM!! but he doesnt fucking understand?? he doesnt understand the difference between LIKING someone and LIKING to HANG OUT with someone. i like him because i like HIM I FEEL HIM, he only likes to hang out with me.

he talks about this as ”his way” and ”bot traditional” way of feeling. his version and definition of ”love” and ”affvtion” is so fucking weird??? we were cuddling and he said ”wow u make me feel more” LMAO BULLSHIT. I CALL FUCKING BULLSHIT YOU ONLY SAY THAT CUS U THINK THATS WHAT I WANT TO HEAR

im partly okay with him being low empathy, he cant help it and i actually genuinely believe he believes he’s doing the RIGHT thing. like he believes it so much and... i guess he is?? like what choice does he have? he cant fucking feel, the least he can do is be kind anyways. he cant help that its not genuine and i guess i’ll have to accept that, but i al NOT GOING TO FALL FOR THOSE CHEAP TRICKS. i didnt say anything but i bet he would even understand if i pointed it out. he’d be like ”but its true!! i feel more with you” no bitch, you only say/think that because you WANT to be with me and now when you know thats what i want to hear thats what you say. smhhh

also i remember in the beginning when i kinda confessed and he was like ”it takes time for me to like someone” and in like???? uhhh okay? and i was anxious abt it cus i really didnt understand what the fuck we were and he just kept ”it takes time for me to like someone” to i was like ”okay but its not like im super super deeply in love with you or anything?? like.... i can like people??” BUT NOW I FUCKING UNDERSTAND HE LITERALLY MEANS BASIC ASS EMPATHY. IT TAKES TIME FOR HIM TO FEEL BASIC ASS EMPATHY FOR OTHER PEOPLE

i just dint understand how the fuck he’s able to still have a family and friends and stuff. how..... how can no one care??? i said ”theyre being manipulated” and hes like ”no i just dont think they care. they just like that im kind and dont think much abt it” but both youre not kind??? but when i tell im its not genuine he goes with the ”well we’re all egoists anyqays, we’re all doing things for ourselves, ur egoist too” yeah but i can still FEEL

i dont wanna be a dick. maybe its just me?? maybe its just because i feel so much and thats why i really NEED that genuine feeling?? no, i know why...... fuCK ME!!! i CARE because i like him 😔😔 bc i think hes so smart and interesring and i see him as someone potential and thats why i keep test him like this 😔 and its for no use because i cant change who he is 😔😔 would i care about these things with some other guy??? no. because i sont care abt them, but i care abt him and thats why 😔😔

hes not even guilt tripping me for it (wow ”yay” ) he just doesnt understand. he doesnt understand the difference or why i find it important. he just sees it as ”him being different” and ”him feeling in another way”. thats not it. this is not normal. this is because of childhood trauma and im so fucking sad for you, no offense, youre doing tour best but thats so sad

well anyways, even if i were to accept his WEIRD ASS DEFINITION OF LOVE he STILL needs to fucking stop with his abuse??????!!!! out of the 3 fights he has told me 2 times he’s going to ”try” but bitch WE KNOW HE WONT. HE CANT! HE CANT BECAUSE HE CANT FEEL WHEN ITS ENOUGH. IF HE FELT EMPATHY HE WOULD KNOW WHEN TO STOP. BUT HE CANT. im just waiting for him to explode someday. i literally asked him ”what should i do next time” and he’s like ”idk, i cant tell you what to do”. omg its true. theres nothing i can do, he’d still be so pissed at me no matter what. and me just asking him is such a BIG RED FLAG like we ALL KNOW.... or not him. he’s like ”maybe we wont fight” LMAO HAHAH YEA BITCH NICE TRY BUT WE WILL BC U START IT

hes so fucking sensitive. we had a misunderstanding, he started to scold me, i got mad and he kept gaslighting ”no i didnt scold you” and when i called him out on gaslighhting..... oh boy...... he got SO FUCKING MA, accuses ME of gaslighting him?? accuses me of ”starting” it with my ”passie aggressiveness” ok maybe i was passive aggressive but i WOULDNT IF HE DIDNT SCOLD ME ABOUT IT. i cant ever criticize him because he goes bananas. ok maybe im not the best to criticize others, im very....... bold. BUT I KNOW IM RIGHT??

last time he got angry because i said ”ppl listen to you bc ur a white man” and he started to bring up his childhood, told me im insensitive, theeatened me to hang up, never talk to me again if i didnt ”respect” him aka ”obey” him, he guilt truppen me, told me no one would want to me with me blah blah blah

a part of me is happy u dont really fall for that bullshit. like yes if course im HURT!!! but as i said, im not really hurt because he really is trying to hurt me. he really WANTS to hurt me. he even takes pride in it?? ”im very good at making people feel very good, and im very good at making people feel very bad” it makes me so FRUSTRATED BECAUSE I LIKE HIM I WANT HIM TO SEE AND UNDERSTAND SO HE CAN GROW, THAT IS EMPATHY PEOPLE, THAT IS GENUINE LOVE

we’re so different. we use completely different tactics. when i used to manipulate my ex.... i NEVER did personal attacks like he does. i never used smth personal AGAINST them.... i was more about.... guilt tripping? more about ”u dont love me, pity me”. im not saying thats good, i was horrible but what he does is just MEAN. i dont understand how anyone can keep up with that kind of behavior. i even told him when we fought and he responded ”well i need to keep up with u”. he always does that and that actually hurts because i like him. and he knows that. he always says ”ive been sitting here, listening to you, been kind to you and....” etc. etc

WHYYYYYY am i the only one criticizing him?? WHY is he like this to me? is it because i see through his ugly acting?? is it even possible for us to ever be healthy together? we can learn from each other, no doubt. but is it healthy???

when i tell him i feel bad bc of horrible manipulative and emotional abusive things ive done he understand but hes like...... ”thats ok dont be so hard on yourself, just learn, everyone makes mistakes” but like no?? THIS IS NOT OKAY!!! he also keeps saying i’ll become like him and like ”stop caring” bc ”we cared too much before” but NO I DONT WANT TO BECOME LIKE YOU!! I ADMIRE YOUR THINKING SKILLS AND ID LIKE TO LEARN SOME OF THAT BC WERE POLAR OPPOSITES YOU THINK, I FEEL. YOU CANT FEEL, I CANT THINK AND HANDLE MY FEELINGS

i dont WANT to. thats the difference. im not satisfiera!!! i told him i dont want to apologize to my ex best friend (who i treated like shit) until it feels GENUINE and hes like ”pfft... its better than nothing. she wont know if its genuine anyways” and im like bitch.... i WANT to be genuine because i think she would appreciate it more and I would feel better about it and hes like ”oh so its cus u wanna feel good about it” OH MY GOD HES SO ANNOYING

i really should pack mt bags and run. why did i have to fall for him UGHHHHH. why do i let him treat me like this when i’d never let ANYONE else do it. its so weird, im very picku with guys. i dont fall for ANYONE. i ALWAYS pick nice and kind guys so why him? i thought he was nice, yeah fair enough, but i still like him even though he isnt? i dont think its me being awfullt desperate, i really wouldnt let anyone be like this. like BOY HE BEKIEVES IN FUXKING REVERSE RACISM DO YALL THINK I WOULD HANG IUT WITH SOMEONE LIKE THAT??? or maybe i am desperate. yes i am. im desperate for the connection i feel. thats kinda sad. i feel a strong bond to/with him, i feel like we’ve been through some things and i still look up to him and how he has recovered. he gives me hope that i can also be happy one day. I DONT WANT TO BE LIKE HIM but i still want to learn from him. and i sont think i will ve like him because im not a sociopath. i just want to take the good stuff and then become better

omg i really am similar to him. im really here feeling superior. i do feel superior because i can feel. i feel superior and a part of me wants to use him. hes a real challenge. i dont think i can maniplate him, it would be amazing to have him feel something for me...... IH MY GOD THIS IS SUCH A FUCKING MESS. NO THIS IS NOT IT. I DO LIKE HIM IM NOT LIKE HIM. IM NOT THAT FUCKED UP

i get really annoyed when he claims im similar that i also want to control and manipulate and im like NO BITCH WERE SIMILAR BUT NOT HERE, like not when im trying to be calm and grown up and have us silver things, not when im crying because he huet my feelings but................ maybe hes right. or maybe hes just manipulating me??? maybe its both. ofc its both. i WAS HURT, i actually HAD anxiety!!!! if that bastard could feel, he would have known it was GENUIKE. AND HE WOULD HAVE KNOWN IM TRYING TO BE CALM AND AN ASULR BECAUSE HE SURE AS HELL FUXKING ISNT AND I ACTUALLY LIKE YOU BITCH I WANT TO SOLVE THIS FOR MY OWN SAKW TOO SO I CAN BE WITH YOU WITHOUT FEELING LIKE A CHEAP WHORE WITH NO SELF RESPECT.... BUT YES OF COURSE I WANTED HIM TO FEEL FOR ME TOO. IT DISTURBS ME SO MUCH THAR I DONT HAVE AN EFFECT ON HIM HEA LIKE A STONE AND OFC IF ANYONE SAW US FIGGT I’D LOOK LIKE THE CALM ONE. hes wrong though bc i used to think like that too with my ex bff. i used to think damn shes only like that so she can feel superior to be and humiliate me but no. she was right. she was more mature than me and she did what she had to do AND THATS WHAT IM DOIKG TO SO FUCK YOU

only way for me to manipulate him would be sexually. he’s that pathetic. a fucking horny dick, thats what he is. but it wouldnt even be manipulation because honestly if hes that fucking horny then its his choice. its not like i’d ever r*pe him, i dont even wanna have sex with him that guy has some HIGH STANDARDS i feel like a virgin next to him but since im not he would also expect more smh. i dont even dare to kiss him back. im only used to virgins so they dont have any experience lmao but... fuck i cant this time

he’s so cockt though for real. he brags about this and that all the time which is kind of his charm..... if it wasnt for the fact that hes always so competitive and serious LMAO. like it would really hurt his ego if i questioned him. imagine me telling him his sex, kisses, brain/psychology or smth was bad. i swear to god he would want to scold me and call me some real nasty things but he probably wouldnt

#diary #jo

[beeapocalypse]

whats up lads this is long as hell and its abt if lucky (dumbass ncr courier not really courier) was a fo:nv companion under the cut bc i dont want 2 clutter dashes :^)

Affiliation: NCR (May not agree w all of their ideal but hes been treated well enough with them that hes got a loyalty)

Role: NCR sergeant, companion

Location: Around and about the Mojave outpost, typically near knight

Base SPECIAL: S- 5 P- 8 E- 6 C- 7 I- 5 A- 8 L- 2

Tagged skills: Guns, repair, and lockpick

Perks: Confirmed Bachelor (ghhhjsjhdh), Friendly Disposition, (OPTIONAL) Buckeye Brilliance, (OPTIONAL) Hollister History

Lucky can be met at the Mojave outpost in three different locations (the bar sitting near Lucy, patrolling outside near the car scrap, or in the headquarters leaning on Knight’s desk). Where he is encountered will impact the initial dialogue you have with him. 

When in the bar, he’ll remark that he’s got nothing else to do and asks if the courier would be interested in a game of caravan. If refused, he’ll politely wave them off and go back to his drink. This renders it impossible to get him as a companion until he either changes places or a full 24 hours passes. It doesn’t matter if the courier wins or loses the caravan game, it will bring him into the universal dialogue for recruiting him. 

When patrolling, Lucky will cheerfully greet the courier and ask for their help in getting a bit of an engine torn out of a broken up car. This requires passing a repair check of 25, and afterwards he will explain that he’s working on a motorcycle prototype after the last one suffered a ‘tragic accident’ (one of his responses to a further question when asking about himself, Lucky will explain that he accidentally crashed the last prototype into a small Legion patrol, earning him a promotion). If the repair check is failed, it will be rendered impossible to get him as a companion until he either changes places or a full 24 hours passes. If the check is passed, it will bring him into the universal dialogue for recruiting him.

When hanging out with Major Knight, the courier must first speak with Knight (only if they haven’t at all before, if initial dialogue with him is completed Lucky will be available for conversation). Afterwards, Lucky will greet the courier and ask for a favor. Giving them 80 caps and a weathered service rifle, he claims that he accidentally dropped a hunk of metal on it and Knight’s banned him from repairs after he almost blew himself up with a jury rigged engine. If the courier refuses to do the favor, Lucky will claim that he’ll get the ‘pissed looking redhead at the bar’ to do it for him, rendering it impossible to get him as a companion until he either changes places or a full 24 hours passes. If the favor is done,  it will bring him into the universal dialogue for recruiting him.

After any of the three things above are completed, Lucky will be able to be initiated with the dialogue for recruiting him. The courier has a chance to ask him about the slow conditions at the Outpost and his boredom around the place, eventually recommending getting out and about the place. Lucky mentions how he’s been wracking up days off since he’s always at work, and that a word with Ranger Jackson might be able to get a word in for him. Lucky expresses that he would be fine with travelling around with the courier since they seem like the adventuresome sort and has already helped him out. If a speech check of 35 is passed or a barter check of 25 and 100 caps are paid to Ranger Jackson, Lucky will be allowed to leave and accompany the courier.

Companion Perk: Friendly Disposition- Lucky has a smile and a ‘howdy’ for anyone, willing to listen or not. While Lucky is a companion, the player receives a bonus to speech and barter checks.

Companion Perk after Personal Quest (if made sure of violence being a solution): Sergeant Shoot First, Ask Never- Lucky’s seen the value in violence, even if it doesn’t calm the doubt in his heart. Lucky gains a higher damage threshold and deals 20% more damage.

Companion Perk after Personal Quest (if made to see that questioning his faction is fine): Hollister History- Lucky has some tricks of the past that he’s putting to use again, qualms be damned. While Lucky is a companion, the player receives a bonus in V.A.T.S accuracy and limb crippling.

Companion Comments:

Use Melee: “I might have some meat on my bones from workin’, but I don’t think that’s gonna do any good.” “You sure ‘bout that? I’m a mighty good shot, would hate to waste it.”

Use Ranged: “Time to put ol’ Betsy to work then!” “Right, was hopin’ for some target practice.”

Open inventory: “Just keep your hands off of my caravan deck and we’re all good, partner.” [if male courier] “{teasing} Sure hope you ain’t ‘bout to ask me to hold your hand.”

Stay close: “Getting awfully cozy, partner.” [if male courier] “You trying to tell me something here partner? Not that I mind, ‘course.”

Keep distance: “Aw, don’t wanna hear me yap anymore?” “If you wanted me to shut my trap you could’ve just asked.” 

Be Passive: “Hope you know this never lasts long in the Mojave, partner.” “Sure then, gives me time to clean up ol’ Betsy.”

Be Aggressive: “Won’t find me complainin’ ‘bout this!” “I’ve got your back if you’re lookin’ to start trouble.”

Wait here: “Righty-o, I’ll hold this place down tight.” [if male courier] “As long as you make sure to watch your own back, sweetheart.”

Follow me: “I was just about to finish working out some problem in my head and now you come calling?”

Sneaking: “Clever thought. Look where you’re stepping.”

“Let’s travel together”: “Its been getting dull ‘round here, I was missing the life you brought!” [if male courier] “Aw, we headed out for a date? Next you’ll be bringing me broc flowers.”

“Let’s travel together” (already have a companion): “Partner, as much as I love running ‘round with you, its getting a little crowded.”

Leaving companion at the Lucky 38: “You’re going to leave me here? Creepy robot lair with a grudge against the NCR?” 

“I wanted to ask you some questions”: “Alright, I’ve been itching for some chatter.” “Oh, we playing 20 questions?” “Ask away, nothing better than a little conversation to kill the time.”

“Tell me about yourself”: “Who, me? Sergeant Lucky Hollister, spent most of my real life dicking ‘round with broke down car parts at the Outpost. I don’t got any interesting stories, was a caravan kid and wasted time ‘til i enlisted in the NCR.”

“Tell me about yourself” post buckeye brilliance: “I just about spilled all of my guts to you already, partner. A dumb caravan kid who got caught up in some bad shit and enlisted as a last ditch effort for a future. Same old Mojave sob story as any other private.” 

“What do you think of the NCR?”: “Me? The NCR sergeant? Hell, I think they’re great, and that ain’t just the propaganda gettin’ to me. They took me in as a kid and gave me a purpose. Though I suppose they’re wrong on some standings...”

“What do you think of the Legion?”: “I didn’t just enlist to get a new life, I’ll tell you that much. Buncha reeking pigs thinkin’ that they know best, since they’ve got some baldy with a few burnt up books on their side. You know what we’ve got? Actual civilization. None of that football gear and crucifixion horseshit.”

“What do you think of the Legion?” post buckeye brilliance: “I’ve seen how they work, you know that. That shit ain’t pretty, the cult they’ve got for that Caesar. Strips away any humanity that might’ve been in those legionaries at some point. The shit they do to the kids... I’ll be the first to spit on that Caesar fuck’s grave, I’ll tell you that.”

“What do you think of Mister House?”: “A monument of the past that thinks he’s got kickin’ power in the present. The man’s got to learn that this ain’t the pre-war world that he loved and cherished if he wants to help out the Mojave in any way.”

.“What do you know about Benny?”: “Impractical as hell and just as cocky, from what I’ve heard. I’d watch my caps ‘round him if I were you.”

“What do you know about the platinum chip?”: “Pretty as hell, I’ll give it that. I don’t know a damn about what you’re supposed to do with it though. Not play poker?”

Death: “Not... Yet...” “Oh hell, is that... Blood..?”

Trivia and additional information:

Refers to a male courier with terms of endearment such as ‘sweetheart’ and ‘buttercup’ whether or not they’ve got the confirmed bachelor perk. Can be flirted with using confirmed bachelor, making Lucky suddenly bashful at the reciprocation. 

Can have either confirmed bachelor or cherchez la femme used to console him w solidarity when prodded deeper to see what his misgivings w the NCR are (beyond the political corruption, he’ll talk abt how its not all that accepting and him+one of his buddies at the mojave outpost (knight, although he wont out the major) dont agree w it)

Will comment on Boone’s presence if near him as a companion or not (”Well damn! Its a fine pleasure seeing a 1st Recon out here!” “Thank you kindly for all you’ve done, sir. Always got an eye in the sky on our boys because of you.”)

Comments on too high of a reputation with the legion w concern, warning the courier to not get too pulled into things and that its like quicksand (hinting at his buckeye brilliance quest, afterwards he will express more outwards disapproval). 

Will make comments when entering NCR areas such as McCarran or Forlorn hope specific to those areas.

Will warn the courier if he sees them killing NCR soldiers that he won’t stand for it. If the courier continues or gets a low enough reputation with the NCR, Lucky will become hostile.

Wears NCR mantle armor and a rawhide cowboy hat for armor (can wear armor besides his NCR uniform, but not other faction uniforms).

Wields a service rifle and combat knife as his weapons.

Unmarked Quest: Lonely Mojave Knights

This unmarked quest starts when a courier uses Confirmed Bachelor on any character besides Major Knight while Lucky is a companion, or Cherchez La Femme. When dialogue is initiated with him, he makes a joke of them sharing at least one thing besides cooking under the sun in common and then sobers up to mention how he wishes the NCR was as accepting as the rest of the wasteland. When he says that him and one of his friends at the Outpost feel the same, the courier can guess who it is (narrowing it down to Knight with a comment of ‘We always flock together’, if they had seen Lucky with Knight before recruited without the need for any other guessing), until they have to pass a speech check of 20 to tell he is lying when he says it isn’t Knight. 

Lucky mentions how Knight deserves something for his hard work at the Outpost, leaving the courier to offer the suggestion of seeing if they could get him stationed at Vegas for a little bit. If this is taken, the courier must speak with Ranger Jackson and pass a speech check of 25 to get him to agree to Knight’s stationing before they got to speak to him. Knight, surprised by this, thanks the courier and Lucky and will be stationed at Vegas (often standing around with Billy Knight or in the Tops) for a full seven days. As thanks, Lucky will grant the courier the permanent Desert Solidarity perk, increasing the nerve and damage (10% more) of companions of the same gender.

Personal Quest- Buckeye Brilliance

Quest Triggers: Similar to Boone’s own personal quest, there’s actions that can be taken to earn points with Lucky that will go towards triggering his personal quest. Three of these need to be amassed. 

Convince Corporal Betsy to seek the help she needs. +1 point, Lucky will initiate dialogue where he praises the courier’s caring nature and willingness to help out someone they didn’t know much about.

Complete the quest ‘No, Not Much’. +2 points, Lucky will initiate dialogue where he compliments the courier on their willingness to help the camp despite the bad history that has gone down there.

Complete ‘I Forgot to Remember to Forget’, Lucky does not need to be an active companion. +2 points, the next time Lucky is chosen to be an active companion he will initiate dialogue thanking the courier for their actions and that, despite not knowing Boone real well himself, he’s glad they did that for the sniper. +3 points if the courier convinces Boone to make amends with his past. 

Complete any Mojave Outpost quest. +1 point, Lucky will initiate dialogue thanking the courier for looking out for where he was stationed.

After these three points are earned, Lucky will wait a full 24 hours before initiating dialogue with the courier (neutral or good karma is required as well, he will not initiate the dialogue with an evil courier and instead remain silent until a higher karma is achieved). He compliments them on their caring nature that he’s seen while travelling with them, as well as their willingness to look past the bad to see the good in people. 

Quest Description: Lucky requests that the courier comes with him to an outpost in the middle of nowhere, not specifying who’s there or for what reason besides that he wants to talk to them about his past there. The courier can refuse to do so on the grounds of being busy, causing Lucky to not mention it until another full 24 hours later. If the quest is put off three times, Lucky will comment on how it seems the courier doesn’t have time for much of anything and drop the subject. This will result in the quest being failed. 

If the courier agrees to listen to Lucky, he will mark the outpost, titled ‘Lucky’s Lookout’, on their map and admit that isn’t the real name of the outpost. The quest maker itself leads to a hill a small distance away from Lucky’s Lookout, not the outpost itself, and the courier must go there to further the quest.

Built in a defensive position covered by the nearby hills (sort of like the gully where there’s a bunch of radscorpions, cannot remember the name of it), it is impossible to clearly distinguish what type of outpost it is until the courier crests the hill that the quest marker is on. Lucky allows the courier a few moments of looking upon the legion camp, complete with a few crucifixes and a bonfire (he gives them binoculars wordlessly, adding them to the courier’s inventory), before starting to speak without initiating dialogue. 

Lucky: “Not the place you were expectin’, is it? It ain’t pretty. Brings up a whole lot of bad memories, I’ll tell you that.”

(Here, he will initiate dialogue with the courier)

Lucky: “I told you I enlisted with the NCR to get a new start, didn’t I? The wording might not be right, but the statement is. You’re looking at the old start right now.”

The courier is given options to question what Lucky means, leading to him revealing that, as a teenager, he ran from his family because of his shitty father and ended up stumbling directly into a legion patrol. Because of his attitude and determination (pointing the pistol he had managed to smuggle with him at one of the patrol without backing down when threatened), he was taken in. Lucky tells of how this all happened near where he was born, Buckeye, Arizona, and that he would’ve stayed there most likely if the conflict between the NCR and the Legion hadn’t started. 

He was trained how to be a legionnaire and sent off to the outpost he had led the courier to with a few conflicts already under his belt. Despite his older than typical age those stationed there saw a chance to use him as they would a child (like the child used against Ranger Andy). Lucky was sent, dressed in scavenger clothing, to where it was known there was a small patrol of NCR soldiers and tasked with leading them into an ambush through deceit and lying. Instead, he spilled out the truth to the first soldier he came across, one Captain Wallace (who can be found at the NCR checkpoint near Nelson and will comment on the presence of Lucky if he is a companion), and was taken in for questioning. 

Because of Captain Wallace standing up for him, Lucky was let off of an execution after telling all he could about the Legion. It was Wallace who extended the offer of enlistment and a new future to Lucky (while not mentioned by Lucky, speaking with Wallace shows that he acted much like a father figure to the young man as he settled into the NCR and his comments to Lucky when encountered show that).

After telling his story, Lucky will remain silent for a moment before saying that he’s been wanting to tell someone that for a while now and that he appreciates the courier’s listening. More questions can be asked to clarify parts of the story (such as his age, what he had done before being sent away from Buckeye, what it was like as a caravan kid), before the end of dialogue is met with a choice. Lucky will state that he feels as if he isn’t truly worthy of his rank or position in the NCR since he was Legion for a little whiles. While he wants to believe in the NCR, there are things that he disagrees with and that makes him think that the Legion had a bigger impact on him than he thought. 

Outcomes: The courier can either suggest that, since they’re already there, that the two of them might as well get some good old fashioned revenge. They brush off his concerns with stating that all he really needs is to kill off the bad of his past. Or, they can instead console him on his past and tell him that the NCR and the Legion isn’t a black and white issue, and that he’s just seeing the grey of what he’s aligned himself with. 

If the choice to lead to the slaughter of the outpost is made, Lucky will afterwards thank the courier for listening to him and his story. Although, he will comment that the blood and death didn’t make him feel that much better. The courier can either assure him that enough of it will, or brush it off. Either choice will lead to the same end of him becoming resolute in violence being the solution to complicated troubles and will earn the Sergeant Shoot First, Ask Never perk for himself.

If the choice to console him is made, Lucky will agree with the courier and say that he’s got a lot of thinking to do. This makes him more introspective of his past and his current alignments, earning him the Hollister History perk.

Endings

Convincing Lucky to be critical of the NCR [Eureka!]: As his fellow soldiers celebrated and tossed their covers in the air over the defeat of the Legion, lone sergeant Hollister harbored doubt in his heart and a burning in his gut. As the Republic established a firmer grip in the Mojave, Lucky slipped off from his post unnoticed and unremembered, disappearing into the heart of the desert.

Convincing Lucky that violence is a solution [Eureka!]: The NCR celebrated, and Lucky celebrated right alongside them. He redoubled his efforts to bring something special and new to the Republic that had taken him under his wing, seen by the men of his Outpost with a cheerful smile as he headed out for scrap that wasn’t so readily available. The sergeant was not seen again.

Convincing Lucky to be critical of the NCR [No Gods, No Masters]: The withdrawal of the NCR was a bitter thing to celebrate, but celebrate the ex-sergeant did. He never reported back to his commanding officer after the Battle of Hoover Dam, instead finding an unexpected joy in Freeside as a repairman. His days of soldiering and battle were put behind him.

Convincing Lucky that violence is a solution [No Gods, No Master OR All or Nothing]: Where others were celebrating, sergeant Lucky Hollister was polishing up his gun with a bitter burning. When he had pledged his allegiance to the courier, it was without thought. As the NCR began to trickle away, a new mercenary joined the streets of Freeside. 

Convincing Lucky to be critical of the NCR [Vendi, Vidi, Vici]: More a talker and tinkerer than an actual soldier, Lucky was left without much choice in the ruling state of the Legion than to call upon his past roots within. He remembered the codes of conduct and complexities of Buckeye, using his knowledge to get with a Legion caravan as a guard despite the dislike he carried still.

Convincing Lucky that violence is a solution [Vendi, Vidi, Vici]: While Lucky had reached the rank of sergeant through flukes and luck, he still had the knowledge of how to shoot and maintain a gun. Still wearing the NCR armor that had been his pride and joy, the man took up a short lived yet deadly campaign against the Legion. Striking from shadows with jury rigged silencers and living off of the lands, he eventually pawned off all but one of his bullets to afford as much whiskey as he could, and did the only thing that he thought could free him.

Lucky dies: No number of good natured smiles and polite greetings could keep the Mojave from chewing up and spitting out Lucky. He was quickly forgotten, not even a footnote in the history of the NCR despite the dreams he had carried for it.

#it is DONE #anyways this is lucky hollister hes Incredibly And Very Good #shoot em up coyote #chandler from friends killing simulator #long post

[mintyicee]

Warning: skip this post if want

It’s a rant...and i absolutely hate you tumblr app bc i had to redue this twice now! >:(

Anyway, I’m used to being ignored. Everyone around me since i was little to being a young adult now has left me to own thoughts and corner in my home since forever. Though i am partially to blame being an introvert and an absolutely horrible friend in keeping contact with friends online, I mostly do so if i feel no one wants to hear, see, speak, or look at me. I will personally disappear and hide myself bc i feel it will make others happy if i wasnt around. As if i didn’t exist. True, not everyone in your life will be around forever and true, being oneself is your greatest friend. But, as shy or quiet as i am, I love being around other ppl. I dont want to be around ppl 24/7 but i do want to connect with ppl i feel can appreciate me at my fullest and without feeling like im weird or the odd ball that doesnt belong.

With that being said, I may be USED to it but i ABSOLUTELY HATE IT. As any human being would of coarse and a lot of ppl have it worse dont get me wrong. Making this rant already makes me feel selfish and in need of pity which isnt why im writing this. Simply put i want to push this anger out of me and get it out of my system bc i feel i cant move forward until i do so. And when it comes to my problems i suck at communicating it to others bc i feel they have much more important things to be doing then to babysit someone who is feeling down (but id drop everything to listen to others sadness bc i care way too much). 

I hate feeling like i did back when i lived in my hometown. Very lonely and sad. Constantly crying. I wouldn’t do anything all summer but cry in my room bc of how alone i felt. And i gave a very important part of me away just to make sure i had at least one person hanging around. I regret it very much but my efforts to hang out with the friends i saw at school outside of school would be very close to zero. Everyone is either busy or just low key didnt want to hang out with me. Tho i was lucky to have at least one friend I would see more in certain grades, it wasnt constant. And once all the drama with my nuclear family subsided, i was much more alone in the house than before middle school. 

I didnt have a cellphone or home phone, no internet either till i moved and started high school. The things that kept me going usually was my writing, music, and cartoons. Seriously being serious here. The way Id touch base with any of my school friends was to walk to their house and be lucky if they had time or were home. When i moved i had so much hope that Id find ppl to share and spend time with. Not only that but i was in the real world and no longer stuck in a house like a prisoner or place for that matter. But like stupid ppl or racists, the same ppl pop up everywhere as well as the loneliness i was hoping to leave behind. Only it came in a new form: even when im around others. I am/was happier here tho. No longer confined in my hometown house. But recently it feels like i am. This summer has been my loneliest since the move and the feeling like no one cares about me at all have all come back at my lowest and most crucial decision making time of my life. Not being in school this semester/school year is hitting me hard and no job call backs for a whole month now either. 

Partially my fault tho. The new friend crew ive been spending time with have been ignoring anything i said in the group chat. Id be skipped over and lately it feels as if im just upsetting certain ppl and end up talking about me behind my back. Really nothing new but I’ve just had enough of it. Like always I distanced myself and stopped talking all together. I’ve been more political upset in recent days due to certain issues on twitter but I’ve only been talking to my boyfriend and my mother. In hindsight tho, they really are my best friends. They are here for me at my highest and lowest no matter how many times i cry or how suddenly i get upset or frustrated. They are the ones to accept me for who i am. No one else has done this to the extent as they have and really thats all i need. Even if i dont get any other long term friends i dont care bc i know they will be by my side till the end. 

But I also want to say that if you didnt want to be my friend in the first place or you wanted me to initiate the conversation first then u should at least comment back at what im saying. If i said something dumb or something that didnt add to the convo then tell me dont just ignore me like im stupid. I refuse to be your “friend” that you only want around to be made fun of. I’ve been through a lot and yes ik u have your share of problems but if your going to only look at yourself and care about yourself then i dont need you. Im good without having that in my life. Ive had my fill of people who act like that to me. And im also tired of people who dont care about others and present issues. I CRY ABOUT PPL I DONT KNOW THAT ARE ON THE NEWS WHETHER NAMED OR NOT. HELL I CRY EVEN IF THEY ARENT ON THE NEWS! There are soooo many ppl who have it way worse than myself who suffer daily and im sick of hearing ppl dont care about the ppl and situations around them! I wont sit here making an excuse as to why i cant help its the same old issues no money (no job as mentioned above) hell even no car but that doesnt matter. I still pray! I pray for safety of others and i pray that ppl will be alright and i pray that things will get better! And also mentioned earlier, ive been reposting about current issues on twitter! This is small but i want to try!

So please if you had no intentions of sticking around me at any of my current moods, dont appreciate the person i am, or relatively dont give a fuck then dont involve yourself in my life. Yes it hurts to be alone but Id rather have that and be alone then FEEL ALONE WITH PPL IVE COME TO CARE FOR! Also, if I have helped you through thick n thin and you think u can pop into my life whenever you feel like it only to stop talking to me or purposely upset me and even threaten me? GTFO of my life and dont come back! Ever (yes this is about a certain friend who moved away and i helped not commit suicide that im holding a grudge at)!  And if you honestly are going to get upset at the actions ive done and say you do good things when you have zero sign of love for others in your hearts, live in a bubble of your own world, and follow the bible “word for word” get out of my face too bc i dont need ppl who say they are here to help others only to shun me if i dont constantly keep verses in my head or do things the way you want them to be and to have me fight my own demons while going against your beliefs and saying that im not doing what im supposed to (yes this is about church)! I DO THINGS AND CARE WAY MORE THAN YOU DO TRUST ME AND THIS IS THE ONLY TIME IM EVER GOING TO SELFISHLY SAY SO BC ITS BETTER TO BE HUMBLE AND NOT ARROGANT. I TRY SO HARD NOT TO JUDGE YOU YET YOU GET TO JUDGE ME? NO I DONT THINK SO YOU SHOULD START AT LEVEL ONE AGAIN AND LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE! (still about church not friends here). Also dont worry about the level one thing; you would know what this means if you went to the same church. 

I’ve been couping with the idea that all i need is two friends. I’m so grateful and blessed to have them in my life and if im truly meant to have more than it will be so. I know two others of whom i need to apologize for hardly emailing or sending a message to. I feel so bad i have neglected them only bc ive been feeling so down about this and other issues (like before: school, no job/car, possibly changing career and life goals, etc) but really is no excuse. Welp I’ve said all i wanted to say for the moment. There is another topic i wish to vent about but it will have to be for another day bc i have no energy to complain about that topic. If anyone read all this im sorry i took time out of your day and that I hope you are doing well. I hope you continue to live your life to the fullest and to celebrate the good things not the bad that comes along. I just really needed to vent these emotions so i can finally concentrate on what i need to do. Thank you for listening <3

#rant #venting #feelings #loneliness #sadness #anger #friends #people #depression #life #church