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imonthinice · 3 years

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The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 16/?

Word Count: 4.2k

Author’s Note: Y/N - Your name

I put two days into this chapter<3 I guess the timeline may speedup a bit<3

Warnings: Jail discussion, Victim Shaming, Fighting, Mentions of Injury, Disassociation, Disconnect, Trauma, Swearing, Mentions of alcoholism and drug use, No beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Family game night was well underway in the Wayne Manor when Y/N got a phone call from the prison that Justine Wong, her high school friend who went to jail protecting her, was incarcerated in until her trial or the man who attempted to assault Y/N dropped the charges.

She excused herself and went outside in the Autumn weather to take the call.

“Hello.”

“This is an automated call from Gotham County Prison from Inmate ‘Justine Wong’, to accept this call please press 1.”

She did as such.

“Thank you for your cooperation. All inmate calls are recorded. Your account balance is $50.69.”

“Hello?” Justine asked into the phone.

“Hey, it’s me. Why are you calling? Are you alright?” Y/N asked.

“I need you to come here and get me a lawyer.”

“You’re up my ass right now, aren’t you? I thought he was dropping the charges?”

“He isn’t. Christopher, Thomas, Kaitlin and I seriously need your help now.”

“Are you all in the same prison?”

“Yes, they transferred over the boys yesterday because of this. We can all meet in a recorded room while you get us a lawyer.”

“Fuck, dude. Uh,” she thought about game night, but decided this was more important, “Do you need me now?”

“Yes, we can all get into the room and then you can meet us, I think the jail is 10-20 minutes of a walk away from the Manor?”

“Fuck. Okay. I’ll be there.”

Click. She thought about going back inside and asking someone to drive her to the jail, but she was also just not prepared to answer anyone’s questions about it. It was cold outside, but if she ran she could get there in 10 minutes. But that’s when Bruce joined her outside, she assumed Jason sent him because he was crushing his siblings in Monopoly at the moment.

“So, I’m friends with the commissioner of the county, Jim Gordon,” Bruce said, “And I know what your friends are dealing with.”

“Well, it’s not like it’s plastered all over the news or anything,” she said to Bruce, with a slight [massive] amount of sarcasm tinged in her voice.

“Do your parents know?”

“If they did I wouldn’t be in Gotham anymore.”

“Do you need a ride to the jail?”

“Yes.”

“I can do that, no issue.”

“Thank you, Bruce.”

“Anytime,” he said before leading her to one of his cars.

------------------------------------------

In the car, Y/N tried to keep up conversation with Bruce, it was a short drive but the time seemed to slow and he could tell she wasn’t talkative. This was, what he thought was likely, very, very stressful for her. He was used to this, the court dates, the police station, but he knew that her attackers’ court dates were coming up and she was going to need emotional support, since her parents weren’t in the city.

He didn’t know how to support her as the dad of her boyfriend, he’d probably just mention it in passing to Jason and Jason would deal with her. ‘Deal with’ probably was not the way to describe the girl that his son was dating, especially when she’s in as much emotional distress as Y/N clearly was in that moment, but Bruce was terrible with wording.

She didn’t even want him to bother with her emotions about it all, because she didn't know how she felt. She didn’t know anything about the situation and how it made her feel, she just froze in the sight of this confrontation and hid from it all behind a mask of seeming to know what she was doing.

They pulled up to the prison, and she got out of the car and waved off Bruce before walking to the front desk and saying who she was and why she was there, providing her ID if need be. They led her into the backrooms, and told her that the room was being recorded and that she couldn’t touch them before letting her in the room.

She looked at the 4 of her friends who were all being charged with assault and battery.

“Y/N?” Thomas asked.

“This... this is surreal. Didn’t think we’d ever end up like this,” she said, looking at the floor before crossing her arms.

“What do we do now?” Kaitlin asked.

“Do any of your parents have enough money to pay for a lawyer? I can call them for you,” Y/N said.

“You didn’t already call them?” Christopher asked.

“No, I didn’t. I’ve been pretending this entire thing doesn’t exist, I don’t want it to exist.”

“But we need a lawyer,” Justine snapped.

“No fucking shit, Sherlock Holmes.”

“Well you should have gotten us a lawyer!” Justine snapped again, raising her voice.

“Now is not the time to yell at her, Justine,” Thomas interrupted.

“Shut up, Thomas! You,” she turned to Y/N, “Look at me! Look what you made us do and you can’t even look us in the eyes!”

“I didn’t make you do anything, Justine.”

“You’re the one who’s a fucking alcoholic and can’t handle her drinks so she almost got raped! You’re pathetic.”

“Now is not the time to victim shame me, Justine” Y/N sighed, “What you’re saying is very hurtful and makes me not wish to help you anymore, understood? You can lash out at me to get the anger out, but this isn’t my fault and you know it,” she said, finally locking eyes with Justine.

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be.”

They continued talking about what to do for hours, with Y/N ignoring most advances Justine made to prove the point that yes, she was pissed at Justine about what she had said to Y/N.

Y/N wasn’t taking anyone’s shit anymore. Ever since she met Jason, and pissed off the press, she stopped letting people get away with everyone, she stopped telling people what they wanted to hear.

And people were noticing, especially her 4 friends in that room. She was trying to get better, to recover so she wouldn't relapse, and it was obvious.

“Y/N?” Justine said.

“Justine?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I am aware. I’ll be calling your parents when we’re done here.”

“So do you forgive me?”

“I’ll consider forgiving you.”

“You’ve changed.”

“Good,” she turned to the other 3, “Anything you 3 want before I leave?”

“Nope, that’s it,” Thomas said, “Thank you, Y/N.”

“That’s everything yeah,” Kaitlin said, “Thanks, man.”

“What they said,” Christopher joked, “Thanks.”

“Alright, I love you 3, I’ll try to arrange phone calls with you 3,” she said putting emphasis on the word 3. Oh yeah, she was pissed.

She would leave the room without even saying ‘goodbye’ to Justine. She would tell the police she was done with the meeting. They asked who would be handling getting lawyers to the 4 kids, she said she would call their parents. Commissioner Gordon walked up to her and held out his hand, “You must be Jason’s girlfriend. I’ve know that kid all his life basically, I’m Commissioner Jim Gordon,” he said.

“Y/N,” she said, shaking his hand.

“I know these last 2 weeks have been extremely stressful for you, Y/N,” he said.

“I think everyone’s caught onto that.”

“I called Bruce to come get you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

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Meeting new people filled her with a lot of life after the hell she was pulled through. From stabbing, to head injuries, to friendships crumbling, to court, Y/N was being strewn through the wringer.

She knew it would calm down eventually, she was just being put through a few bad weeks for a lifetime of happiness, and she hoped that happiness was with Jason.

She couldn’t think much longer when Bruce pulled up and she got to the car.

“How was it?” he asked.

“Do you really want to know, Bruce?”

“I do. The justice system can be draining.”

“You could say that again,” she joked, “So, where do I start? Well, I get in there and tensions are high, obviously. I’m sure prison sucks when they shouldn’t really be there, they did the job the vigilantes here do, and we all let them do it. Anyway... my friend I guess, she comes at my throat about my attack,” she paused, trying to swallow her pain, “Starts blaming me for it, uses my alcoholic past against me, you know, the stuff you shouldn’t do. I don’t care if she’s right and I shouldn’t have drank, but she fucking led me to the bar.”

She fumbled with her hands a bit, still trying to not cry, “Anyway, I told her that she can’t talk to me like that, that I won’t let her talk to me like that and she apologized. Guess what? I said ‘You should be.’ and I know that might not mean much to you, Bruce, but I would have never stood up for myself like that had I not met your son, you did something right with that boy, Bruce, I swear,” she joked, “But that was about it, I have to call everyone’s parents to get them lawyers, but that’s it.”

“I figured you had a backbone from the start, kid,” Bruce said in response.

“You kidding? I had to ask Jason if you would hate me for flipping off the press? I’ve never, ever had a backbone.”

“Well maybe, besides the lack of protection,” he joked, “Maybe Jason and you are a good couple.”

“You think so?”

“I think so.”

“Thanks, Bruce. Really. Your kids are a hoot to hang out with and you’re not half-bad yourself, old man.”

“Are you going to start calling me that, too?”

“Maybe jokingly.”

“I’m not that old, kiddo.”

“You just called me kiddo and you think I don’t deserve to say you’re old? Really? Bruce, c’mon, you’re smarter than that.”

“You don’t deserve it. You’re just going to do it.”

She laughed, “About the protection lecture, I wouldn't have done it if I wasn’t on the pill, Bruce. I appreciate the concern, but you were so wrong about us ‘not being prepared’.”

He laughed, “Maybe you should have said something.”

“You never asked me, Bruce.”

“I wouldn't make a good detective, then.”

“That’s why Commissioner Gordon is on the cases I’m involved in, and not you.”

He paused, “Isn’t your head-butting buddy’s trial starting tomorrow?”

“It is.”

“Are you going to watch it?” he asked, off-handedly, “I think Dick might, just to see what the ‘sicko’ looks like.”

“I’m definitely going to watch it,” she laughed, “Might even make it an essay for school.”

“Well that’s one way to handle it.”

“Might as well turn the sick fuck who tried to turn me into a ransom note be turned into a 100% in my classes. Call it; Classy Revenge.”

They pulled into the driveway together, while Bruce was laughing at the comment Y/N made. She laughed, too. It helped heal some of the wounds she experienced over the 2 weeks of knowing Jason, even some of the prior wounds. Bruce told her that the kids were still playing Monopoly, none of them had apparently gone bankrupt yet, it was 12:00am.

To say she was impressed with Jason and his siblings would be an understatement, she remembered playing Monopoly with her family, and they’d all always declare bankruptcy within an hour or so, and thee was never a back-to-back winner when they all played.

Maybe they were bad at managing money, maybe thee Wanes just were too stubborn to declare bankruptcy and they bent the rules of Monopoly a little bit to suit their family, she didn’t know.

They walked into the house and sat back down, Y/N at Jason’s side where she had been the 4, or-so, hours before. Everyone seemed to acknowledge her presence and wished to ask her what happened, but no one knew how to bring it up to her. They knew she wasn’t used to the life of court and trials, the needing to talk to police, it was really one the Waynes and the kids of police officers that were used to tat stuff.

She pretended to not notice them wanting to ask her and opened her phone while Jason tried to negotiate for the 4th railroad from Tim, to see her mother texted her.

How are you, sweetheart? Her mum had asked.

I’m fine, mum. Shouldn’t you be sleeping?

I should, but I can’t sleep thinking about the trial of your attacker

Same. It’s such a stressful situation.

I can’t even imagine how you’re feeling through all of this.

She couldn’t put how she felt into words. How the way that the moments she was in the alleyway made her feel. the way that man’s face was burned into her memory to be a constant reminder tat she wasn’t safe wherever she went. It was something she had never experienced before.

Maybe it was fear. Maybe it was pain.

I don’t know how I’m feeling either, Mum.

How’s your nose?

It’s healed basically. No more nosebleeds at random intervals.

You didn’t tell me about the nosebleeds.

I didn’t tell anyone about the nosebleeds, Mum.

Why not?

I don’t need people to worry about me, to feel for me, to make their times and schedules molded to fit me. Good intentions or not, I don’t need charity hand outs.

Then do we stop paying your rent?

Well, I mean you could. I wouldn’t stop you from stopping paying my rent, but the difference is that you giving me money is to keep me at the top of the school, to make myself the best I can be.

How badly would your studies be impacted if we stopped paying your bills?

Probably massively. Don’t worry, mum. It’s a two-year program and then I can get my own job and make enough money. I’ll get you a little house on a hill and you can be the Queen of the Hill.

That’s nice of you honey. We should both try to sleep if we’re trying ot catch the trial today.

Goodnight, Mum.

they were all still glued to the game, when Barbara chose she would take the risk and ask Y/N about the meeting.

“So, how was it?” she asked, innocently.

“How much time do you have?”

“We have pretty much all night, the others can go at this till the trial tomorrow,” she joked.

“I mean, challenge accepted,” Y/N laughed, “So, we pull up to the county jail, right. I wave off Bruce, no big deal, everything was going to plan, which should have honestly been my first sign that things were going to be fucked, but I digress,” she paused, “I walk in, give the lady my ID and she looks at m funny, like she knew that I had been drinking underage in that moment and was disappointed in me, as she should be.”

She fiddled with her hands, “So they lead me to the back and before they do they tell me the usual, I can’t touch any of them and my conversation with them will be recorded, then they let me in. I greet everyone like the good friend I am but tensions are high and everyone’s on edge, which is understandable, but.”

Jason perked up when she put emphasis on but, knowing the story was about to get real, really quickly.

“My friend Justine, she called me to get me there, she starts going at me about how this is my fault for being an ex-alcoholic and drinking, which, yes, i should not have been drinking. But she lead me to the bar,” she paused, “She starts blaming me for how I almost got raped and putting them all in there, whatever,” she paused again, “I basically told her that if she wanted my help she was going to have to behave and be nice to me, to which, she apologized,” she paused.

“You didn’t accept that apology, right?” Stephanie asked.

“God, no. I said I’d consider forgiving her. Everyone else was fine though. anyway, I have to call their parents and get them in contact with a lawyer soon.”

“You’re still doing that even after that whore victim-shamed you?” Jason said, he seemed in awe that Y/N would be so kind to someone who did her so wrong.

“Jay, I’m borderline legally obligated to do that,” Y/N said, “I wouldn’t do it if she hadn’t saved me.”

“I think you still shouldn’t do it,” Damien said.

“And you seem very vengeful, Damien. But that’s only sometimes me.”

“Look, thou shalt not sin or whatever, love thy neighbor or whatever, but that girl wronged you in that conversation, do you really owe it to her to call her parents?” Tim asked.

“You know, for a family who’s known for being the ‘Nice Billionaires’ you all tend to really hate my choices,” she joked.

“Don’t make dumb ones, and we wouldn’t judge,” Tim retorted.

”Okay, smartass. I hope you go bankrupt.”

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Waking up next to Jason on the day of her attacker’s trial was something to her. The comforting aura of the room seemed to be stripped away because the sun hadn’t risen, the blinds didn’t need to be closed, and Jason wasn’t cuddled up next to her.

She would find him already dressed, pacing back and forth in his room. For her 3 back-to-back days of being in Jason’s house without going home, she never saw him this actively distressed about anything. But given the situation they found themselves in, it was understandable.

Someone actively threatened her life for an attempt at a ransom on her name, because she was now tied to Bruce Wayne, and Bruce had money. Of course, for the Wayne household, the kids and Bruce were used to ransom attempts on themselves, with some of them actually being taken hostage before, but Y/N wasn’t.

She defended herself, and since it was, thankfully, caught on camera unlike the attack on her attempted-rapist, she didn’t have to appear in court, she didn’t even need to video her side of the story, she wrote it in a letter and sent it to the District Attorney's office. The District Attorney, being the prosecutor, was obligated to give her statement to the defense, so she was curious as to how her words would be spun to fit their narrative.

Jason and Y/N were both in the criminal psychology major at their college, they both knew what they were in store for, and they both had the ability to tear the defendant into pieces the minute he spoke. If, he spoke, that is.

Jason didn’t seem to notice that she was awake. He was really lost in his own thoughts, his own concerns. He stopped pacing though, and he was just staring at his laptop, possibly zoned out from the situation.

She got up as quietly as she could and went to hug him from, she could hear him let out a little chuckle, so she greeted him, “Good morning, Jay.”

“I thought you were still sleeping,” he turned to look at her.

“I was, but I woke up, that’s how that works,” she joked.

“That’s insane I would have never thought people wake up after they sleep,” he said with heavy sarcasm, “The more you know.”

“Insane, I know,” she said, “I still don’t even have clothes here,” she laughed, “I really need to go home eventually.”

“No you don’t, what?” he said with more sarcasm, “You can just wear my clothes, baby.”

“I don’t think they’ll fit, Jay, I think you forget you are literally massive.”

He laughed, “Listen, being massive is not my fault.”

“How is it not your fault?”

“Don’t ask questions.”

“I am asking questions, I am curious now.”

“Shhh,” he joked, “No need to worry.”

“Billionaire, playboy, philanthropist and he’s got rippling abs? But zero cause for concern? Where do you even find the time?”

“Well, when you’re not over it’s during my downtime.”

“Can’t believe you won’t work out in front of me,” she laughed, “That’s just rude.”

“You already have free entertainment here,” he joked.

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Somehow she found clothes that somewhat fit her so she could go downstairs and watch the start of the trial. She didn’t know if she could sit through the entire trial, she was victim. No one expected her to be able to sit through the entire thing. It was a lot different from studying trials to actually being a part of the trial.

There was more of an all-seeing-eye presence in the living room of the Wayne Manor that morning before the trial began. The sounds of reporters through the television while everyone sat and waited for it to begin, it was not something many would enjoy.

There would be an ending to this story, to this court case, whether it was a month from that moment on that couch or a year from that moment. There would be justice for that bullshit.

Part of her didn’t even want the trial. She wanted the man to take a plea deal. She didn’t want to be in the spotlight when murders were happening. But no one would let it go, a beautiful woman being hurt in an attack against her? It was the kind of stuff that the news sources wanted, craved, from every court case.

And that was the thing about it. She didn’t want to be the tabloids newest escapade into being more and more corrupt, broken, deceitful.

She looked to the television as Jason put his arm around her, bracing for any sort of reaction to the news. No one really knew how she was going to react. And then it started.

Cameras were being let into the courtroom and panning over to him. The man who had attacked her in the alleyway. She subconsciously brought her hand up to her nose and felt it. For a moment, it was like she was back in that alleyway, head-butting that man and then running to the Manor. But she wasn’t there and she knew that, trying to snap herself out o that state brought nothing, though. It took the Judge having to shush the entirety of the courtroom to get her attention back to the real world.

The Judge would introduce himself to the press, but mainly to the court, and then request opening statement. Or at least, Y/N thought that was what he was doing. She didn’t really know what was going on, something pulled her away from the court trial she was witnessing for the man who attacked her.

To the outside, the people surveying her to make sure she was okay, her eyes seemed to glaze over and she seemed to just disconnect from the situation. But they didn’t realize she had disconnected. She just looked to be in thought.

She saw colours fade in and out of her sight, people showing up in front of her, him showing up in her sights, the images dancing in her mind as if she was there in that courtroom.

The time began to slur in her mind. Hours became minutes to her. And before she knew it, court had ceased fro the day. She was snapped out of it by Jason letting her go. He offered to drive her home, she agreed.

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“Y/N?” Jason asked while they were in the car.

“Uh huh?”

“Are you alright?”

“Good question,” she answered, flatly.

“Are you?” he asked, seeming more concerned.

“Probably not.”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Uh-uh.”

“Is that a no?”

“Mhm.”

He reached to place a hand on her thigh, attempting to comfort her, “That’s okay,” he said, “You don’t need to talk about it.”

“Mhm.”

He sighed, “I’ve decided something,” he said, “I’m going to spend the night at yours, just to make sure you’re okay.”

“Okay.”

“You still don’t have to talk about it.”

“I know.”

“Okay, here,” he smiled, “Have I told you the full story about the time that we did chair-racing in the halls of Wayne Manor?” he asked.

“No, you haven’t.”

“Well, what happened was we ended up flying down the halls at like 4 in the morning, right? Well,” he paused, “Dick used to be an acrobat, so when he almost went flying off the stairs, he actually caught himself on a handstand on the rails. Chair still went flying,” he said.

She smiled a little bit. He knew he was doing something right.

“We ended up breaking a vase. Bruce was okay with it because it wasn’t his parents, but Alfred was pissed at us for it. Grounded us all for weeks about it.”

“As he should.”

“Look at me go, getting multiple word answers out of you, and I even got you to crack a smile,” he laughed and grabbed her hand to hold it, “I’m just so good at this boyfriend thing.”

She smiled again. The smiles wouldn’t last for long, but they did happen. He knew the trial was traumatic for her. He could tell. Just from the way she drooped after the trial ended, she could normally not shut up when it came to Jason, so this was out of character.

When they got to her house, he would walk, basically lead her, to her house. She was so far disconnected from everything, that he even just let her rest in her bed with his clothes on and her shoes still on, because she wasn’t functioning.

He would crawl into bed with her and let her rest her head on his chest.

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trash0receptacle · 3 years

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Stress pt. 2

(This is based on my personal issues and stuff more as a way to cope. I’m not romanticizing any of mental illness and my goal is not to offend anyone. I also feel I should put a warning so trigger warning for: Depression, Anixety, Mentions of Anorexia, and death.)

If you feel any like this may trigger you then feel free to skip it.

My dms are open but I don’t have notifications turned on however I’m fairly active on here. With that out of the way

With the statement left hanging in the air the atmosphere of the room turned serious. Mc gained a vacant and sad expression.

“What do you mean it happened before you got here?” Satan questioned

“Mc, you know you can trust us right?” Asked them avatar of envy

This got a chuckle out of Mc who uncharacteristically said

“Trust is bullshit.... everyone I’ve trusted has either lied to me, hurt me, or left me. Trust isn’t exactly something I believe in anymore.”

The brothers had never seen Mc speak with such bitterness and sadness. It was shocking coming from the human who acted like an angel.

“Mc, I-“ Lucifer tried to say but was cut off by mammon

“Mc who hurt ya” Mammon questioned very angrily

“It’s a long list”

Mammon just hugged Mc tighter while the others stared holes into Mc’s clouded eyes.

“I know if I say what happened I won’t be able to stop. If I tell you guys then I’ll end up telling you everything and it’s not your fault I’ve had a lot of shitty stuff happen to me.”

“Mc you don’t need to feel like your burdening us with your problems honey.” Asmo murmured

“If I tell you just promise me you guys won’t you know hurt people because I have a feeling you guys might get a little angry” Mc painfully laughed

All of the brothers nodded thinking Mc must have been exaggerating but where soon to find out they weren’t.

“Well let’s start when my childhood ended, when the person I never thought I could live without left, my aunt. The person I had to watch die and suffer for months unbeknownst to myself. When at 12 years old I stayed by her side every day because I didn’t want her to feel alone. The person who plagues my dreams and subconscious. Then in middle school how I was mocked for being “sad” about how I watched my life be torn apart in front of me. How my parents became stricter and distant quick to punish me for anything. How my tract record for being everyone’s therapist started. When I started telling people how they matter and shouldn’t off themselves. How I avoided my own internal demons by consoling others who would later hurt me. Then how all I became good for was advice and I had no one I could vent to not even my therapist. After that I started starving myself because I couldn’t bring myself to cut. My friends cut but I wouldn’t because I couldn’t let anyone know how broken I truly was. How I became horribly suicidal and almost committed suicide in 7th grade twice. Or how on my 13th birthday I was throwing up inside the restaurant bathroom and when o came out my parents shook me asking me if I did it on purpose. I still don’t know if I did or not. Then I got better. I was saved by my parents and my therapist however I was emotionally exhausted at this point. Then bam 8th grade happened. At this point because school had been easy for me I never had to try before and my grades plummeted so I stopped caring about school. My parents were always on my case about missing assignments and bad grades and everything. Not to mention when I tired to be kind to a girl getting bullied because I felt sympathy. I saw myself in her and told the other kids to knock it off. However I guess she took that as an insensitive to start harassing me and ultimately assaulting me for months. I was told I didn’t have a choice when I tried to stand up for myself so I disassociated. At the same time my only grandfather was diagnosed with a Brian tumor but the doctors were positive he would be okay. I had friends who were well connected because I went to catholic school so I was able to surprise my grandfather with being able to be on the field as his favorite football team warmed up. He got a signed football form the coach that he would keep in his family room next or his chair. However a month later he was put in hospice like my aunt. I couldn’t handle it so recently after the last time. But at least my aunt kept her personality unlike my grandfather who I had to watch be unable to care for himself and lose his memories. After that was blue well until my birthday that year which my dad forgot. Then my grandfather died a month later but I was unable to attend his funeral because of the coronavirus. How next I was almost put in the hospital for attempting to unalive and because I had starved myself to the point where I ate once a day. Then summer happened and I was happy again. My friends lifted my spirit but then they all got in relationships and didn’t need me anymore. So I became in their eyes a lying and narcissistic bitch. I was told I was fat and awful by them. And then I got okay again but still didn’t trust people and we arrive in the present. Oh well I forgot to mention my parents disowned me but that’s a another story.”

Mammon started to cry and hold Mc just wanting to feel like they could protect them. He knew Mc had been through a lot but to this extent he had no idea. He felt so angry that people did this to his human.He felt guilt for calling Mc a stupid human knowing it probably hurt mc.

Levi went over to Mc and hugged them from behind. He wasn’t the most affectionate person but he wanted to confirm they were here. He never wanted his Henry to feel like they didn’t matter. He felt guilty about telling them to die in arguments where his anger to the better of him.

Satan just sat there unsure of what to do or say. What could he say “hey I’m sorry you got assaulted?” His wrath wanted to destroy the people who did this to Mc but Mc seemed to believe it was their fault. They also seemed like they don’t want violence.

Asmo just sat next to Mc like Levi wanting to confirm they were there. He felt so bad about being so flirty and touchy now knowing why Mc seemed to be so modest. He wished he’d known because looking back in it he probably brought memories back mc wanted to forget.

Beel for once didn’t feel hungry so he left to go to the kitchen not for himself but for Mc. Mc said they used to starve themselves? This is why the offer him their food. He felt shameful for eating it knowing the truth now.

Belphie just put his head on mc’s lap. They let him do it before so he figured it was fine. Even with all of Mc’s personal stuff they still wanted to help him. He wouldn’t let Mc feel like that again.

Lucifer was shell shocked. His pride wouldn’t let him show emotion so he left. He went to his office to find Mc’s file. None of this was in it. He talked to Diavolo informing him of the sudden “update”. He wanted to talk to Mc privately but figured he’d need to wait.

Mc felt guilty. “I knew I shouldn’t have said anything” “look now they hate you”. They really couldn’t handle all of this right now and asked for some space to think. Much to the brothers dismay they left knowing if Mc truly wanted to be alone they would be able to use their pact.

Lucifer however didn’t have a pact with Mc so he didn’t have to listen. Knowing they would be alone he asked them to come to his study.

When they arrived he just held mc.

Note: Yeah I didn’t know how to finish and I’m a little sick so please don’t be that critical. And I’m alright now I just know that a lot of people (myself included) find comfort or something similar when reading angst. It can help them with their issues etc. Anyway have a wonderful day or night loves

- Caroilne

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abused-sides · 4 years

Text

Well-Behaved [Whumptober 2020]

Note: I’m doing whumptober as a series. Check out the tag #whumptober 2020 v on my blog to read in order. Also on ao3.

Prompt: No. 18: Panic! at the Disco [Paranoia]

Synopsis: Janus tries to be good to protect the others.

Trigger warnings: Cults, gaslighting/manipulation, restraints, kidnapped, non-con, humiliation, treating people like property, blood, knives, violence/beatings, a person in a cage, guns, body horror/gore, reference to murder/hate crimes/child death/minor character death, vomiting, non-consensual drugging, burn scar mentions and brief descriptions, off-screen dumpster diving, major characters talking about potentially dying (but I don’t write major character death so no worries there), branding/burning, nonconsensual body-modification, murder threat, some gross bodily fluids, blackmail, vomit eating threat, domestic and child abuse mention/implication, toxic masculinity mentioned and preyed on, let me know if I missed anything

Word count: 1996

October 17th. 7:04 pm.

The rest of the day was terrible.

Virgil handled himself well, but Janus was a mess. If he was scared of making a mistake before, he was now petrified. It got to the point where Bates put Janus in a leash of his own so it was easier to move him when Janus froze up.

“You’ve got to calm down,” Virgil mumbled during lunch.

They sat side by side in the cafeteria, Bates and Styx across from them and talking over a stack of papers. Virgil and Janus’ leashes were locked around the table legs, as if they’d try to escape in the middle of the school, the cafeteria filled with cult members.

“He’s right.” Bates looked up and smiled. “Everything is okay, love.”

Janus nodded shakily. “Yes, sir.”

He chuckled. “Look at me like that and I might think you don’t want to be here.”

Janus’ eyes widened, heart rate picking up. “No, sir! I do want to be here! I’m very happy to be here, I am.”

Bates pointed a pen at Janus’ untouched plate. “Then prove it. Eat.”

He swallowed. “My hands…”

Bates looked at Janus’ bound hands in disinterest. His eyes slipped back up to Janus’. “Yes? Is there a problem?”

He shook his head. Embarrassment crawled up his spine. He kind of wanted to die as he leaned over and lapped at the thick soup with his tongue.

Amusement crept into their smiles. Bates hid his impressively, but Janus knew him. He was eating it up.

Styx looked to Virgil. “And you? You haven’t eaten either, pet.”

“One, I won’t eat like a fucking dog,” he snapped. “If we’re ‘free-roam’ now, we at least deserve that. And two, I’ve told you a million goddamn times that I’m allergic to milk. You expect me to believe this doesn’t have any? I know what food looks like when it has dairy in it, I’ve been doing this for fucking twenty years.”

Styx leaned over and propped his chin up. He smiled. “You’ll eat how and when and what I tell you to.”

Virgil smiled back bitterly. “You’ll be cleaning up my vomit.”

“You’ll eat it up,” he shot back.

“I’ll choke on it and you can bury me,” Virgil snapped.

“Enough!” Bates glared between the two. “Styx, if I thought a pet would turn you into a child, I wouldn’t have given you one. Virgil, this is your last chance. Janus? Come here, love.”

Bates circled around the table to pull a hyperventilating Janus into his arms, tucking Janus’ head into his neck. Janus buried his face in Bates’ soft skin as he cried quietly, his body alive with fear.

“It’s okay,” Bates promised, stroking down his back. “But you need to stop crying, or it won’t be. You’re making a scene.”

Janus didn’t know how to make himself stop. He held his breath and pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes. His sobs burst through and he cried harder, hiccuping and sucking in painful, dry breaths.

“Will you get away from him?!” Virgil tugged Janus back and hugged him tightly, the best he could with his hands tied. “How is he supposed to calm down with you threatening him?!”

Bates sighed. “So much for a nice lunch. Styx, I trust you can finish your day without me?”

He nodded with a smirk. “I can.”

“Take Virgil and go. I’ve had his crate moved to your room, so at the end of the day, you can go right ahead.” Bates looked between Janus and Virgil. “I think you two will learn better separated. You’ll see each other again when I see you’ve made progress.”

As hard as he tried, Janus couldn’t stop himself from hyperventilating. Bates dragged him out of the cafeteria but his eyes remained on Virgil.

Will I ever see him again?

He couldn’t do this without Virgil. He wouldn’t survive.

“Janus,” Bates warned. People stared as they walked through the halls. “You’ll be earning yourself a punishment soon.”

“I’m sorry,” he whined, wiping his face sloppily. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, sir.”

Bates wrapped an arm around his waist and hid a smile. “It’s okay, dear. But if you don’t stop soon, I’ll make you.”

Bates led him into a classroom, most of the desks lining the walls but a few clustered together. Most of them were filled with cult members. They all stood as Bates entered, a few taking a knee, the rest bowing.

He grinned. “Everyone, sit. I brought a little toy with me today, you all remember Janus. He won’t interrupt.” Bates pointed to one of the desks against the wall. “Go kneel there, Janus. Stay out of our way.”

Janus hurried to obey. Bates locked his leash to the handle of a cabinet. Janus yelped as Bates smacked his ass.

“Posture.”

Janus flinched but straightened up. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“Good boy. Stay silent while I have my meeting.” He sat at the head of the desks. “Tell me what progress you’ve all made.”

Janus shut his brain off as they talked. He tried everything he could to disassociate, and though he couldn’t manage it, he floated pretty far away. He didn’t notice his breaths speeding up as he stared out the window into the mangled woods.

If he behaved long enough, could he somehow get a message to the others letting them know they’ve been found? Remus should be able to help with that.

“Janus,” Bates said in frustration.

Janus sucked in a breath. How the fuck does he know-

“Your breathing. Didn’t I say to stay silent?”

“I’m sorry, sir.” His eyes flicked over all the other members staring at him, all chuckling or grinning. His face flushed hot and he cowered in on himself. “I’m sorry, I’ll quiet down.”

Bates stood and stormed over to him. Janus flinched. “Didn’t I say not to make a scene?” He hissed. “Posture. Shut your mouth. One more slip-up and I’ll bend you over for your punishment in front of everyone here and have it recorded as a welcome home tape for the others.”

Tears welled up in Janus’ eyes and fell silently down his cheeks. He held his breath and nodded.

Bates smacked the side of his face gently. “Good boy. We’re almost done, then we can have a break, okay?”

Bates finished his meeting, but afterwards, he called Janus forward. He pulled Janus into his lap and wrapped his arms around his waist.

“See?” He said to the others with a grin. “He can be well-behaved.”

“Honestly, Bates,” one of the girls said, “you’re impressive. And you have such a way with boys specifically. Got any tips for me shaping up my boyfriend?”

“Public humiliation is a good bet for anyone, especially cis men. It’s so easy to make them feel worthless with just a few insults. Isn’t that right, J?”

Janus nodded slowly. Bates squeezed his waist, and he stuttered out, “Yes, sir.”

“And leverage, of course. I have no illusions about why Janus is being so good today. Find out what matters to him, Olivia. Janus here would give his life for his friends— So he does.”

“What about kids?” A man asked. Janus vaguely recognized him, his name started with an ‘L.’ “My daughter’s been a real bitch lately, I want to get her back in line.”

“Well, that depends on age, but I like to think of Janus here as a son of my own.” Bates tucked Janus’ hair behind his ear. He shuddered. “Just remind her how much you love her and that you’re doing this to help her. Janus, baby, you know how important it is that you stay well-behaved, right? Can you tell me why?”

“People like me better this way,” he mumbled. “I’ll have a better life being behaved.”

Bates kissed his cheek. “Such a good boy. Any more questions about my beautifully behaved boy?”

The cultists poked and rubbed at him, hands tugging at his clothes, rubbing through his hair, stroking the insides of his thighs and any exposed skin, running over his lips. Bates sat proudly as they praised the two, cooing over Janus’ behavior. Janus eventually had to check out again, sweating in embarrassment.

“Unfortunately, I’m running late for the next thing on my schedule,” Bates finally said. “I’ll see all you at dinner, though. Behave yourselves.”

Bates carried him through the day like that, poking and prodding him into small breakdowns. Janus watched his every step, every breath, tried harder to behave than he ever had, but Bates and his friends always had something to say.

During dinner, Bates caught Janus’ stare, looking for Virgil and Styx. “They brought their meals to Styx’s room. They’ll be there for the rest of the night since Styx got his work done early. Honestly, Virgil is an incredible motivator, I’m ashamed to not have thought of this earlier.”

Bates gave himself a longer workday than anyone else. After hours of meeting with cultists and discussing plans and progress, he locked the two of them in the abandoned principal's office with a laptop and a VPN. He stayed there until Janus’ eyelids sank and he struggled to keep posture. His knees ached and creaked from the constant pressure, sharp pains occasionally shooting up Janus’ back.

When Bates finally ordered Janus to his feet, his back popped loud enough to fill the room. Bates laughed as he picked up his leash and led him into the halls.

He stopped at one of the classrooms and knocked a few times. The door opened to reveal Remus with his bedhead and sleepy eyes.

Janus’ eyes widened.

“Did I wake you?” Bates asked as Remus stepped aside to let them in.

The classroom was left mostly untouched aside from a few of the desks pushed together to form an alcove, filled with a dirty mattress and several thin blankets. A dirt-caked Percy Jackson book laid open.

“No, I was waiting.”

Bates handed over Janus’ leash and patted Remus’ cheek. “Good boy. You know the rules?”

“Don’t let him out of my sight.”

“Good. I’ll collect him in the morning. Until then, he’s yours.”

Remus locked the door after Bates left.

He stepped over and rested his hands on the back of Janus’ head, then pulled him in for a soft kiss, careful of his still-healing burns. Janus cried as he kissed Remus back, one of Remus’ hands inching forward to unclip his leash and unlock his collar. The chains clattered against the ground and the two stumbled onto the mattress.

After ages of kissing, Remus’ fingers running over every uninjured part Janus had, they laid with their heads inches apart, Remus’ book forgotten on the stained tiles.

“We can leave,” he whispered, barely audible at all. “Go out the window. I’ve been watching every night, I know the guards’ routes. Bates trusts me.”

It took all of Janus’ strength to shake his head. “Not without Virgil. We wouldn’t be able to sneak him from Styx, would we?”

Remus bit his lip and shook his head. “No. We’d have to leave him.”

“We’re not doing that.”

“I know.”

Janus carefully rested his head on Remus’ shoulder and hugged him tightly. He was sick of crying, but his eyes watered anyway. “What about your plan?”

“I’m just waiting for the right timing. Everything else is set up. You don’t need to worry, okay?”

“And you’re coming with us, right?”

Remus hesitated.

Janus squeezed him tight. “Remus.”

“If I can,” he promised. “If I can, I’ll come with you. But I’m not worried about me. Fuck, you’ve seen it, my life is fine here. It’s you two that need to get out.” Remus ran his fingers through Janus’ hair, carefully working through the knots to leave the strands smooth, albeit greasy. “And you need to get some sleep.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

“Try?”

Janus’ eyes fluttered shut. “I’ll try.”

“I love you, Janus.”

“I love you, too.”

Kofi and commissions, 1 coffee = 300 words of your prompt

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captainkurosolaire · 4 years

Text

Destined ‘X’ Forever

“Ye wouldn’t b’ doin’ anything that’d take a special kind ov’ stupid now would ya’ ma’ Lord?” A cheeky rattle hit in a echo of the barren Ruins. For all intended reasoning's this wasn’t a planned encounter. Last he saw his Noble other halve was after attempting to salve some helpful advice to put him in a discovery. Though what the amber optic witnessed was anything but the type of discovery he meant. The pirate meant from the self. This was someone who couldn’t move on. Didn’t know how. This is hurt. He had been there, embraced it, and the result damaged him past the point of repair a self-searing that he still hadn’t entirely resolved. And forever because he couldn’t contain or control his heartbreak he discredited and discarded it. Letting it coal until he lost himself and a savage feasted on his homed temple. A severance between souls. A path to nefarious and damaging for anything that crossed was a clear future for Elune. If he paid the price and fed that side of demonizing that festered in all thing’s in varied degrees of morality. He would become consumed with dangerous and devastating levels that may scar him in irrecoverably.

“I..hate..you.” Muttered off breath before turning to face and direct to ensure this was more personal his regality was cracking he was so shortly an ilm away from being granted his wishful desire by utilizing a forbidden relic that protruded a hint of Mhachi. However, by activating this, It’d cost his last remaining dignity, his humanity he akin to most chose to run from it thinking and disassociating it as ‘weakness’ for the appearance and value it often represented no-good. He was possessed and consumed with the empty. That hollow part of losing a piece that stabled and made you feel wholly, he had forgotten what living was like without it after a sip. Without something to protect to be any meaning, he found himself misplaced. Knights didn’t exist without their duties or their morals to wage crusades in belief or service; they were dull like any Samurai in the obligated swords sworn after they slew their intended advisory it was weightless and immeasurable. None of that crossed his mind that once was recognized and pristine for being intelligent, all other forms living or to be sacrificed were insignificant, they could all be shriveled and pay the price even if it brought utter devastation and internal turmoil to that which he so starved to have returned to him. This resentment stood beyond even their current vessel’s their souls were entwined to contest. Negatives and positives. “I hate you. I hate everything about you, your stupid hat, your trashy ingrate demeanor. All of it! Hate is my sum for you.. You--- you’re, why I am here in this position. You cost me, my world! If you weren’t such an irritating blight, I would’ve never lost control… I’d still have them!” Flailing his arms out in the arm like a tampered child throwing his blame. The crystallized air around him howled in chimed ice sang like a banshee as his instability continued. Captain swallowed soft listening before presenting a stepped chortle and follow, “You need a tissue? Or a tampon for yer leakage?” The Seeker fired back as during that entire rant he just nodded his head. “Mate, I’ll b’ straight blunt yer being a bitch. O’ boohoo, ye lost something in your sheltered life, you in your fancy Ishgardian Walls always catered and given and throwing a hissy fit when ye didn’t get something fer Starlight. Your rant is the same shite I’d get from a dozen of stuttering cucks at the Quicksands for me so effortlessly tossing their lass over my shoulder and tending to them from their plagued bore. -Ye hate me? What a crock… Matey you don’t hate me, you just hate yourself. You got caught, ye won a battle but I got in your most prized place -- your head. Fail to understand your performance in our last skirmish saw you ACTING more like a pirate than a noble. Ye can’t get those thoughts ov’ me outta your mind… How naughty.” Tsking with a finger waggle further adding antagonizing fuel with even more expression by holding his chest to shield his exposure in that unnerving smug. “Standing over there and wanting t’ talk about hatred and losses. Ye murdered my near entire crew, ye tried dismantling another. Ye kidnapped my Star Healer and stole her away to fuck who knows where and then n’ your whole, ‘I gotta be th’ Elite White Shining Knight’, ye let her suffer alone and vanish to silence! Ye point and like t’ remind others of their failures, their faults, but conjure a solid mirror with that fancy-dancy magick. Leviathan… I gave ye an ale and I didn’t even charge ye on your last visit t’ my Cabin. I told you…! I warned you…! I did more than enough in my part, so-wait, is this what I’m missing out on sticking around for parenthood? Just sheer disappointment? This was supposed t’ be your discovery, but let me guess, the only thing you figured out in this entire time is that, ‘O I’ve got a dick, so well, I must be one and I’ll damn the rest in my way even the ones I love? Not even factoring their own thoughts? YOU aren’t wanted back. There’s isn’t any riveting other reasoning why they discarded themselves from you.” He unleashed every form of his smash-mouth and laid out the crass even if overkill. Thick skulls often were swelled in ego and ego was born often of entitled never spoken against, here enters the brazen. All the while Shiro’s fist rattled and quenched his inner demonic price for all his sin’s and wrongs began transforming and corrupting his veins, his roots that stemmed inside became a grotesque green. “Enough! What does the pirate know of actual loss and pain? You are thieves, takers, you’re scum. Compassion and your kind don’t mix, nor does it exist. Use everything and leave, you can’t even remain devoted to a single solitary thing. Always roaming without purpose to the next big thing for your greed. Making every little detail’s about yourself. Do not forget, I met your crew… None of them are innocent. It didn’t matter which you led. They were all heathens. Neither of them could listen to their betters. They didn’t respect anyone outside you, and when you were missing and disappeared on your so-called ‘shipwreck’ those who salvaged and carried your flag paid your price. You brought them into a War against a literal Sea Empire. None of them were equipped or readied. And without me, they would’ve all been slaughtered maggots. They even wanted to kill each other and decapitate the latter to get some heroic favors or get into the panties of your ‘woman’ you led only a cult of unwashed stains. Threatening like the barbarians you raised to even lash out at my sister because her own heart was on the opposing side. Who even was brainwashed and used as another pawn on the board though despite that fact their inbreed tribal and unorthodox wild crew of yours was but the essence of chaos. You mere peasants outside the Pillars and the arrogance you bestow, are far grander than anything we harbor.” Now it was the Keeper’s turn to verbally unleash a hailstorm. They bickered like an old couple cover many generations of grudges. Building their resentments and hatred until… that moment where there wasn’t going any back and one swung. The words actually began rattling against the Captain’s inner instincts and primal urges. For his own bonded knot was mentioned and brought up. The tone of Shiro’s higher ‘superiority’ shout echoed against the blank and outdoor ruins in a condense clap. Was steering and disturbing a slumber that snarled, his complexion became more heated. Irregular and unnatural... The scoundrel’s blood began surging. Weapons in War only ever are mentioned what was used to quell or the materialistic solution. Never in mentioning how any War or Battle began. Often originated from disputes. The contesting of disagreement is what drew first-blood before any sharp dared part flesh from. “What th’ seventh hell did ye say?” The ruffian stepped in closer even against biting and foreboding chills. A vein vessel popping out of his forehead. Shiro’s visage turned to a dastardly and deviled one impractical aetherial horn’s started to lowly form on his temple. “Many things and all I assure you, I mean them all. Your crew was worthless they lapped up and swam under your dirty seawater. You a Captain? A joke, your, -kind- don’t have admirable emotions or hearts, you are written as heartless and crude as you’ll always be known utter tasteless, savaged buffoons. THAT is your booked cover and shall always be to me and anyone else with somewhat wit.” The Seeker’s steps continuing forward his framework began bulking up hit by a nerve earlier. Every part of Shiro’s weighted words came from a merciless and mean intent. Making every remark sound as categorized and labeled as possible. The first step of all Jailers and those that hide behind anything against the grain or that make them feel even the slightest uncomfortable about the insecurities often came from classification putting a firm distinction between someone else innocently in the cross-hairs to try so desperately to distance themselves and stay on their elevated ladders, artificial thrones above someone. Despite that answer wasn’t what left a sour look on the mug of the rugged slicker those didn’t seem to be what triggered him. “No, the other.” He corrected calmly his stance seemed like a preparing lunge.

Shiro knew all too well what he said and brought a gleeful sinister grin to further elaborate the struck cord. “Ah right, the pathetic and high-excuse of a complex woma--” Right before he could finish that deplorable remark. The Blackguard used a rash Ghost Step (Shukuchi) to close in and lob for a full-force spinning roundhouse. (Previous) — /References/ — ♫ ‘Invincible ♫ — (Next Page)

#Part 1 of 6 #Expect em daily #Final Fantasy XIV #FFXIV #Lord Shiro Elune #Seeker of the Sun #Enough spat to melt an iceberg #Keeper of the Moon #Miqo'te #Noble vs Pirate #Rivalry #reader discretion advised #Battle from 0-3 #Time to warm out of this rust #creative writing

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elliethesuperfruitlover · 3 years

Text

i am ready

already starting out with a bop

yo this is great

also im tapping my foot as a stim bc these are good

facetime with my mom tonight reminds me of like.....pop videos....like pop music videos, im saying it reminds me of “what do you mean” by justin bieber, as it was also shot in a single room

ah yes the butterfly effect

hello socko

socko be spittin’ facts

aw :( poor socko

NSID

if only the companies during pride month said the same lol (some are legit)

“against racism in theory” uh-

yo butterfingers are kinda nasty (to me)

an avocado

A WHITE WOMANS INSTAGRAM OH MY GOD

damn it got real, you good white woman’s instagram owner

a dreamcatcher bought from urban outfitters oml

some ppl can shut the fuck up lol...i cant, i choose not to

for an hour, hell yes

also this lighting is very nice

yo what the fu-

*cries in inception*

him reacting to him reacting (and on and on) glass after glass, i honestly really like how he portrayed that. that’s kinda how it feels when i go on a tangent, and have to pick up the pieces of my original thought, especially if i’ve lost my train of thought.

IVE HEARD TIKTOK AUDIO OF BEZOS AND I OH MY GOD

ITS SO GOOD

this is going on repeat, and i love the meaning

the scream is really good too

im....horny honestly same

you send me a peach....ill send a carrot back...cool cool

we love asking for consent (as should everyone)

sit why do you have a knife

the sexting song reminds me of “orange juice” by melanie martinez

sir why do you have a knife-

*disassociates*

“well well, look who’s inside again, went out to look for a reason to hide again”

i didnt need to be called out

ah yes a wet hair segment

this is so 80s, giving me “holding out for a hero” we love it

bitch im trying to listen, shit ive been complicit, my brain

age is a very scary thing. i feel like a lot of people start throwing others away once they’ve reached a certain age and that isn’t really okay. people should be able to enjoy what they want to enjoy at any age (within reason, of course). the venom that some people face is so....gross. just because they’re in their 30s and enjoy reading fanfics, or making them like??? they arent hurting anyone, mind your fucking business. im honestly happy that a lot of my pals are older on here. i may not know what the fuck they’re talking about sometimes, but there’s still a lot of shared experiences, and things like that.

im absolutely terrified of getting older. i know and understand that i’m young, i’m literally 15 years old, what do i need to be scared of.....a lot. i just dont have a good relationship with death, and sometimes i lie awake at night, thinking about how nothing in life is permanent, besides the life cycle itself. things live, and things die. and i know it happens, i’ve just yet to accept it.

for so long, i’ve wanted to “be a big kid” and do all these different things, but i just...dont know. i feel like my brain is older than my body. and my thoughts, and things i like. it’s really weird. i’ve been told that im “mature for my age” and all that, which i see as a compliment, rather than someone trying to be a predator. which is understandable in both aspects. but i sometimes wonder if i wasnt...me...y’know. if i wasnt mature for my age, and looked a bit younger. (i look young in general, but eh, you get it) i look tired sometimes, (its because i probably am) but it’s odd. anyways, back to me reacting.

turning 30 is a bop

hes not out of touch, it’s honestly fine to not be on social media and shit

yeah, i already disassociate enough, it happens mostly when im listening to music...hmm

2030 i’ll be 40 and kill myself then.......yeah

ME EXPLAINING WHY I SAY WHAT I SAY SO PEOPLE DONT WORRY

dear lord, yeah its too real

i know i dont want to, but i really just....want things to stop sometimes. so i can breathe, and gather my bearings and get through it. things get a lot and i just need a break.

YO WHY DO I RELATE DEAR LORD

i really need help jesus christ

thank you for cleaning me mr burnham

yes i like the show, im not tired of it, its just fine :)

yo he put a whole game in this shit, hell yeah

yeah i want out of the house, but like......AUGH no

why tf is this so accurate

wake up at literally 4 in the afternoon, feeling like a bag of shit (oh no)

if i mentally feel like shit, i cant sleep it off lol, my dreams exhaust me at that point

“could i interest you in everything all of the time” me listening to tunes

THATS WHERE THE MANIACAL LAUGHING SOUND IS FROM AND IT CUTS OFF I DIDNT KNOW THIS INFORMATION

love ur forehead glowstick dude

i like the idea of it being like...contained, but im sure that im losing it because i havent been like...NEAR OTHER PEOPLE. the pandemmie has NOT been great. anyway.

total disassociation, total out your mind, googling derealization, hating what you find

PLEASE THIS IS TOO ACCURATE

aw :(

its 4 in the morning so my hands are gonna be up, and im just looking at him

this is so beautiful

yo he put a “the living tombstone” on that one

him sitting on the chair reminds me of the one scene in “kill your darlings” where the main character has diarrhea, and they’re sitting on a chair bare ass naked (so they dont have to take the pants off, yada yada) while also writing on a typewriter.

yo this was great

okay i admit that i was mad sad earlier, but like....im fine now. and especially not now. i’ve been told not to watch inside when not in a good mental state, and i get it. im fine now, but that was good. i honestly laughed more than anything. i dont feel like crying. it represented a lot of my thoughts and feelings well. i like it.

#ellie livewatches inside by bo burnham

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zankivich · 5 years

Text

The Arrangement: CEO’s Son/Dom!Shawn x Black Sub Reader Chapter 7

a/n: this is like my favorite chapter so far. I feel like I’ve been waiting this whole story to ge tot watch these two interact in this way. I hope it comes across as authentic. I worked really hard on the pacing for this story. You all have been incredibly kind to me lately with feedback for this story and I sincerely hope you keep it coming. It is without a doubt the brightest part of my days recently. Thank you so much for that. K bye.

WARNINGS: sex without a condom (gotta wrap it before you tap it). mentioned of white supremacy, racism, and micro-aggressions.

*Shawn’s point of view*

Nothing ever simultaneously works out. It never all gets to be perfect. His life had been a memoir with that exact theme and yet somehow he always let himself forget. Y/n leaves and he somehow has a date with her. A date. Not a hookup. Not some elaborate set up to make her cum. A date. With like conversation and personality. He hadn’t been on a date in years. And sure he knew he was really good at sex, but that didn’t mean shit about being able to actually hold a conversation. She was lightyears above him mentally, and he had no idea how he was going to manage to not fuck it up. But he had a date. She said yes. And that within itself was a win. So of course something in his life was going to have to go to shit. Hold that thought.

Brian makes it back sometime between his gym run and a shower. By the time he gets out, the asshole is sitting on his couch fucking up his kill rate on COD.

“Move over, jerkoff! And switch to two player.” He grunted plopping down on the couch beside him.

“Jeez, bro take it down a couple notches. I am nursing a hangover from the depths of hell over here.”

“Not my fault you can’t ever handle your liquor.”

“Well Melanie seemed to think I handled it just fine.”

“Melanie sounds like she’s still never had an orgasm before.”

Brian punched him in the bicep which only resulted in him returning the favor. Idiot.

“Not all of us sneak our hookups in in the middle of the night.”

He rolled his eyes fingers smashing on the controller.

“I didn’t sneak anyone. It’s my fucking apartment you idiot.”

“Yea, sure, whatever. Did you at least hook up with someone new?”

His fingers stumbled on the joystick, sending his player headfirst into a grenade. Lovely.

“No. No I didn’t.”

Brian looked over at him. “You fucked the same girl again?”

“I don’t think we should be equating Melanie and y/n here. y/n is a woman. A grown ass woman. Trust me, she never lets me forget.” He snorted.

“What is up with you and this chick? You never fuck the same person twice.”

He supposed now was as good a time as any. He actually was going to need shit for brains’ advice.

“I like her okay! I like her. And we hooked up last night but it was...it was different. I didn’t tell her what to do. I didn’t pull out any bells or whistles. I just...We just had sex. And she kissed me like she liked me too. So I asked her on a date.”

“A DATE?! I haven’t seen you go on a date since you were like a child!!”

“No shit, jackass. I’m going to need every fucking ounce of help I can get. And that includes your ass, unfortunately.”

“Stop pretending you don’t love me bitch. Now tell me how you plan to get a thirty year old woman who isn’t on drugs to actually enjoy spending time with your sorry ass.”

What are best friends for?

***

*y/n’s point of view*

y/n: I HAVE A DATE.

y/n: I NEED YOU HERE ASAP

Tiana: Oh shit. K. omw.

The last time you went on a date was in 2016, what some might call the beginning of Armageddon. After a slew of horrid dates, you had been completely and totally ready to throw in the towel. But then this cute guy came out of nowhere. He was nice, sweet, not very funny but in a way that made you laugh. He was also persistent enough to not take no for an answer, without it making you uncomfortable. No immediate red flags. So you went on the damn date. And all was well. It wasn’t an earth shattering date, but you weren’t not enjoying his company. And then it happened.

I just really think Trump will genuinely make America great again ya know?

You nearly choked on a piece of lettuce.

“Really bruh? In front of my salad?”

“No just hear me out though. Is he unorthodox, sure. But Hillary? Hillary and those emails. It just wouldn’t have worked.”

“I absolutely understand what you mean.”

“You do?” He smiled.

“Yep. CHECK PLEASE!”

“Bitch we do not have time for you to disassociate I am trying to make a wing here!” Tiana huffed.

You rolled your eyes and reached for your phone working to still your features so that Tianna could continue with your makeup.

y/n: Are you a republican?

Shawn: Well thank you for asking, I’ve had a lovely day. How was yours?

y/n: I’m serious.

Shawn: I’m Canadian.

“Shit. I’m so stupid.” You whined.

Tiana tugged at your chin. “Not stupid. But NOT still.”

“Sorry, ti.”

y/n: Would you have voted for Trump if you could have?

Shawn: No. No I wouldn’t have. What kind of a person do you think I am?

y/n: Idk. idk. I just needed to be sure. It never came up when you were tying my arms behind my back.

Shawn: You didn’t mention political discourse as one of your kinks. Is there something I should know before tonight?

y/n: No. It’s fine. I swear. Just haven’t been on a date in a really long time. And my last one didn’t go so well.

Shawn: It’s been a long time for me too. But I’d really like to have a go at it, if that’s okay with you?

y/n: yea, I’d like that. Should I meet you at your place still?

Shawn: Actually I’m gonna pick you up. I’ll be at your place at 7?

y/n: Oh. Okay.

“Hmmm.”

“Hmmm what? What’d he say?” Tiana asked.

“I’m not meeting at his place anymore. He’s picking me up.”

“Well where is he taking you?”

“If I knew that, Ti would I be sitting here in a ball of anxiety?!”

Tianna dropped her eyeliner brush and reach instead for the body lava. All hail Rihana.

“I sure hope he dicks you unconscious for a few hours. You have got to relax, sis.” She giggled. “It’s going to be alright, okay? He likes you. You like him. Let that be enough for right now.”

“Okay. Okay. Just...make my titties sparkle? Please?”

“Lord, chile. You don’t pay me enough.” She snorted.

Friendship!

***

Shawn: I’m here. Do you want me to come up?

y/n: No need! Here I come.

Outside your apartment building is one of those SUV hummer situations that you only ever rode in when you were visiting one of your artists on tour. Shawn is standing outside the door of the vehicle, and you can’t help but pause right there in the middle of the sidewalk. He traded the black jeans for a black slack that hones in on the fact that he’s most definitely not wearing a chelsea boot for the first time ever. They’re dress shoes. Like proper, wing tips. And he’s wearing a short sleeve button up with yellow, black, and white stripes. There are enough buttons undone to see the way that his rosary necklace melted into the firmness of his chest nestled amongst the most sinful amount of chest hair. God, where the hell had they made this one at? And how the hell did he wind up at my front door?

“Hi.” He smiled, legs crossed and chest broad. “You look really beautiful.”

You peered down at the jumpsuit you’d picked out with Tiana’s help. It was a really pretty shimmery gold color and the entire back was cut out too. In hindsight, it didn’t seem nearly as impressive as to what he was wearing now.

“Thank you. You look pretty beautiful yourself. Really showed me up tonight.”

He laughed. “Yea, sure. Come on, it’s cold out. Let’s get going.”

In the car, there’s a bottle of champagne and one of the playlists that you recognized from Shawn’s apartment is playing softly in the background. He pours each of you a glass, your legs somehow knotting simply together on the floor of the car. It’s weird in that it’s not like a first date in the traditional sense. You put his balls in your mouth for one. He licked orgasms out of you like ice cream. But the nerves are still there. You find that you care about what he thinks of you, of how he feels about you. That’s new. And scary.

“So uh...where are we going?” You asked between sips of champagne.

He bites his lip and looks nervously over at you. It’s a new look for him. But one that you find solace in.

“Would you be angry at me if I said it was a surprise?”

You raised an eyebrow. “No. But I would be curious as to what that surprise is.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll know soon enough.”

“I think I heard that line one time. I think Hannibal Lector said it.”

He rolled his eyes and threw his head back and you wished it didn’t make you giggle, but it does.

“Funny.” He smirked hiding behind his glass. “I just wanna impress you a little bit. Is that okay?”

“You wanna impress lil ole me huh?” You smiled. “That’s sweet.”

“Just a little.”

He licked his bottom lip and his hand inched its way up your knee. He was warm. Way too warm to not have your body react a little. Rude.

“Whatever happened to your friend from the other morning? Am I taking you away from him?”

“Oh Brian?” He snickered. “He’s just happy he’s got my place to himself. He couldn’t believe I was going on a date at all.”

“Tiana either.” You snorted.

“Yea? She try and convince you not to go out with me?”

“She is...surprisingly Pro-you for some reason. Must have something to do with me not having enough time to be a bitch as work with our arrangement and everything.”

“Hmmm. Well it’s nice to know I’ve got one person on my team. Maybe by the end of the night I can win you over too.”

“Maybe.” You smiled.

The car eventually rolls to a stop, and you’re not even aware of how long you’ve been talking. All the nerves that you couldn’t actually be together without the sex part sort of faded away. He could make you laugh. He could hold your attention. And you could offer him the same. Just when you were starting to think that it was all going to be fine? Shawn came to open your door.

Your heels touched gently to the ground and you let him pull you from the car. Behind him was not a restaurant. Not a bar. Not even a fucking hotel. Nope. Instead you were stood right in front of Mendes Industries’ private jet and a fucking flight attendant with a bag in her hands that looks surprisngly like your Louis Vitton. Fucking Tiana.

“What the hell. Shawn, what the hell?!” You gasped. “What is this?”

“You were concerned about people seeing us right? Well no one’s gonna see us. No one but the locals.”

“The locals?! I can’t--I can’t just fly away with you Shawn. I have responsibilities. I have a--a job.”

He reached for your hands, which tended to do a lot of movement when you were flustered, and stilled them by placing them on his shoulders.

“Listen to me,” He murmured silencing you. “It’s already set. Tiana canceled all of your meetings for three days. It’s just three days. Look I...I really like you, okay? More so than I know what to do with right now. And I think that you like me too. Do you like me?”

“Y--Yea! Yea, of course I do. That’s not really the point is it?”

“It is. Just get on the plane. Please? I just wanna take you out. Let me take you out.”

You peered up at him, all soft brown eyes and chiseled everything else. He had really come along out of nowhere. It was incredibly disorientating, and intoxicating. You lived your life by a planner, a set time for every hour by the hour. And here he was asking you to throw that all away, to let yourself be something else for a chance. And it wasn’t all that different from what he asked of you in the bedroom. Just let go. Release.

You sighed. “You know when most guys ask to take a girl out? They don’t mean out of the state.”

“I’m not like other guys.” He shrugged.

“No shit. Where are you taking me, white boy?” You groaned letting him steer you towards the plane.

“Try to contain your excitement.” He snorted. “Remember that time we had sex in the back of a storage room during Khalid’s video shoot?”

You smiled awkwardly at the flight attendant and knocked your arm into his shoulder.

“Oh please. We’ve had this jet since I was fifteen. I’m almost positive my dad has done some incredibly sketchy shit on here. Martha knows all. Thank you Martha!”

He leads you to a seat. There’s more champagne. You don’t know how you got here. This man was wild.

“Get to the point, maybe?”

“Right. We hooked up in the storage closet, and you told me that story about how you missed your high school trip to Rome because your mom was having heart problems and couldn’t afford it with the medical bills? You had a Lizzie Mcguire fantasy and everything.”

“I was drunk that night. Khalid had just gotten his first number one.”

“So you don’t want me to take you to Rome?” He asked.

“ROME?!”

“Rome.”

“....Who are you?!”

He chuckled. “I’m just a guy standing here asking a girl to let me take her on a little trip.”

“Oh my god. He quotes romcoms. This is too much.”

“Just relax sweetheart. We’re about to do liftoff.”

Jesus Christ.

***

*Shawn’s point of view*

He’s a little worried that he may have broken her. Maybe it was too much too fast. He should’ve just taken her to fucking dinner like a normal person. The problem was he wasn’t normal. And she sure as hell wasn’t normal either. She was so different from anyone he’d ever been with before. He wanted to spend time with her. And the last thing in the world he wanted was her to think about his dad while she was with him. He could tell that it bothered her more than she was willing to admit, and he just needed them to be on equal footing. What said equal footing like going to a country where neither of them spoke the language. Tiana had given him the green light when she agreed to change y/n’s schedule around and even pack her a bag. It seemed like maybe it might go well.

She calms down after her first glass of champagne, and sits more comfortably into the seat next to him, her legs folded so that her knees poked gently at his thigh. She was closer, close enough for him to smell her perfume and he kind of loved it.

“So are first dates the one’s where we spill all of our dirty laundry, or is that the second one?” She asked.

He chuckled and laid his hand on her thigh. She smiles at him, so he doesn’t pull away.

“Your guess is as good as mine. Do your worst, woman.”

She situates herself a little more gently into the chair, chin propped up on her palm. He gets lost in the glitter on her collarbones and neck.

“Why haven’t you been on a date in a long time?” She asked.

Heavy first question. But he told her to do her worst.

“Well I uh...the last date I went on was with my girlfriend of about two years. And on said date she told me that she had been sleeping with a producer at Atlantic records for six months, and that he was going to share her demo. So, she didn’t need me anymore.” He shrugged around a sip of champagne.

“Two years? Two fucking years before she pulled that shit? That’s fucked.” She said. “I’m sorry.”

“Yea. It was really heavy at the time. Blamed my dad for a lot of it, even if it probably wasn’t his fault this time. But ever since then I just thought it might be easier to stick to the meaningless sex route.”

She nodded. “I fuck that up for you a little bit?”

“You have no idea.” He grinned rubbing his thumb along her chin. “I should’ve known the second I caught you checking me out at that party.”

“Excuse me? For the last time I was not ‘checking you out’. I was simply observing that snooze fest your father put on.”

“I was checking you out.” He admitted honestly. “I asked my dad to introduce us. I just knew I had to have you. And then I spoke to you and I found out you were trouble, and you weren’t going to take any of my shit. I should’ve known then.”

It’s a lot softer than anything he’s ever admitted before, and every time that he remembers that this is more, that they’re trying to become more, it makes his heart stutter in his chest. But she leans her head against his seat and she smiles at him like it means something to her to be open, to be vulnerable. And that alone is enough to get him to lean in.

“So maybe....maybe I was looking in your direction.” She says softly. “I’d heard of you. I’d just never actually seen you in person before. And maybe I was curious.”

“Curious?!” He laughed. “Okay. Curious. We can call it that; I’ll take it. Your turn. Worst date. Spill.”

She groaned softly and slid a little deeper into her seat, head fitting perfectly against his shoulder.

“I accidentally went to dinner with a Trump supporter.”

“Accidently?” He snorted.

“Don’t laugh asshole! It was thoroughly traumatic for me. I just thought that logically a white supremacist would not be interested in asking me, a black woman, on a date. I forgot that logic is not in their wheelhouse. It was awful.”

“Now your texts make a lot more sense.” He chuckled reaching his arm to pat her cheek. “That enough to take you out the game, aye?”

“I don’t know man...the world is fucking scary right now.” She sighed. “Sometimes it feels like there’s no one we can trust, like there’s no one who doesn’t have it out for us. It’s not just political agendas. It’s my safety. It really is that deep. It has to be.”

It’s this moment where she’s offering more of herself than she had in the entire time that he’d known her. Y/n was beautiful and sexy and intelligent, but there was also always this aura of mystery around her. Like she wasn’t quite ready to share herself, didn’t know if she could. And he wanted to find his way on the other side of that. He wanted to know her better than she knew herself. And he wants to cherish any moment where she’s willing to let him try that.

“I understand.” He paused and closed his eyes feeling maybe a little flustered and out of his element. “I mean I don’t. I know that I don’t, that I couldn’t but..I hear what you’re saying. And I believe you. I would like to know more at some point. If you’re willing to share it with me.”

Her eyes flicker over to his and they’re wide and brilliant and he wants to kiss her so bad.

“You do?” She checked.

He nodded and chanced reaching to pull her face a little closer, palm resting against her cheek.

“I do.”

She kisses him and it feels like the sun. It feels like everything.

***

*y/n’s point of view*

Rome is kind of perfect. It’s not so hot that you’ve got to cover yourself in deodorant, but the sun is still pretty and bold in the sky. The hotel he takes you to has an entire terrace open for your access with those flowy ass curtains you only saw in cheesy 80’s pop music videos. There are couches that might as well be beds there so soft and plush. You touch down in the middle of the night and there’s not much to do but keep talking to each other, keep touching each other. You take your shoes off and sit out on the couches wrapped in blankets with another bottle of champagne. If the redness in his cheeks is anything to go off of, he’s just as tipsy as you, and it means that it’s not weird when you lean into him. No one’s gonna say anything for letting him hold you.

“It’s four am right now.” You giggled hiding your face in his neck. “It’s so beautiful here.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yea. I really do. I always wanted to come here. I can’t believe this is our first date.”

“I wanted it to be special for you. You deserve that.”

“Since when?” You asked so thoroughly confused by everything that he was. “I mean, yes. I definitely deserve this but...when you did you realize that you want it to be more than what we were? I thought you just wanted to fool around?”

“I did.” He whined stubbornly tracing your nose with his thumb. “I really did. But...you are very good at sex.” You laughed and he smiled. “I’m serious! One of the best partners I’ve ever had. And sometimes when our bodies were moving I just got lost in you. Like you were a fucking beautiful ass star capturing me with your light. And then you stopped arguing with me so much and just letting me be like...a friend to you? And then Miami happened and I just--I wanted to be with you. And I realized that I wanted to be with you as a person, even when we weren’t having sex. I was scared. Until I realized that you liked me too. Then I got my confidence back.”

“Oh lord not your confidence.” You rolled your eyes.

“You have got to stop acting like you are not all up on this okay? I see the way you stare at me, honey. It’s okay. Let yourself give in to Mendes Magic!”

“I am officially not attracted to you anymore.” You snorted going to pull away.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and tackled you down to the couch. Your laughter poured out into the night as his fingers dug into your belly. You laugh until your stomach aches. Until there’s tears in your eyes. Until he kisses you and you feel it in your toes. Until the only thing you can think about, feel, smell, is him. And you melt like that against the couch.

***

Rome is beautiful. It’s the most beautiful place you’ve ever been. The sun rises in the sky and you’re up immediately tugging Shawn out of bed. There’s breakfast at this little place near the hotel that looks out over buildings that were unlike anything you’d ever thing. Everything was historic and rustic and so endlessly different from everything you’d seen before. It was really like something straight out of a movie with cobblestone walkways and buildings that were works of art themselves. It’s wild. It would be wild on any day of the week. That was before you looked over your glass of wine to this guy smiling at you like the beauty of the city around him meant nothing in comparison to looking at you.

You liked him. Shit you liked him a lot. And every time he looked you in the eye and hung on every word you said? It just blew you even further away. And you kept trying to remind yourself how unrealistic it all was. You were thirty afterall. The two of you were in different times in your life. He was still holding on to every word his dad said. You had plans for your life, for your career. It was hard to figure out whether or not he could fit into those plans. And maybe that wasn’t first date type of thinking, but hello! He took your ass to Rome. None of it was normal. So you walked a little faster, tried to hold harder to the moments that you had to share. Cause why not?

“Hey can we slow down for a sec?” He asked as you pulled him towards your third museum of the day.

You frowned. “I wanna see the ruins.”

“We can. I promise. Just let’s sit down for a second, yea?”

You’d been walking all morning, stopping at every nook and cranny that you came across. It was a three day trip anyway. You had no idea when you’d ever be back, if you ever would be back. But there’s something special about the company too. You remind yourself that he’s the reason you’re there. The vacation, though amazing, was really just an opportunity to be with him.

“Yea, of course.”

He tugged you to a little corner of these big huge steps that were filled with people just sitting down, chatting, eating their lunches. The second you’re no longer standing on your feet is a little bit like heaven.

“Okay make you were right.” You sighed wiggling your toes. “I’m tired.”

“Well that’s good. I was starting to think you were a robot.” He chuckled. “I’m glad I packed tennis shoes.”

You peered down at his feet and quickly laced your legs with his where the white tennis shoes stuck out in contrast to his black jeans.

“They look so funny on you. I like them. You’re cute.”

He smiled over at you. “I’m cute, aye?”

“You heard me.”

“Yea, well maybe I wanna hear you say it again.” He murmured taking your cheek into his hand.

“You’re cute.” You whispered before pressing your lips together.

You had yet to get over this new style of kissing. The way he rubbed so softly at your cheek you got goosebumps. The way his tongue could make you feel like time was slowing down. Almost like there was nothing left here. Nothing but the two of you and the way you could make each other feel. It was maybe the best feeling in the world.

“You’re beautiful.” He murmured when the kiss had ended, forehead pressed against yours. “I can’t believe you’re here with me right now.”

“I can’t believe you whisked me away to a different country for our first date.” She hummed. “What are you hiding? Do you have a third nipple or something? A serial killer perhaps?”

“Why are you so insistent on me killing people?” He laughed. “And you’ve seen all of my body at this point. If there was a third nipple don’t you think you would’ve seen it?”

“Well you’ve got me there. But statistically speaking at least fifty percent of all murders probably fit your description, honey. I’m just being realistic. I’ve seen what you can do with rope.”

He rolled his eyes and he found that it made you smile. And so he tended to do it more and more often. That’s kinda how you knew you were fucked.

“What do you say we go see these ruins of yours, find some pasta, and fuck until we fall asleep?”

“As long as it’s in that order!” You gasped tugging him back to his feet to continue your wild adventure of the day.

***

*Shawn’s point of view*

He’s got a new kink. And it’s definitely her calling him baby when he’s inside her. It is without a doubt the sexiest thing she could do for him. Which makes so little sense. How fucking soft had she turned him in a few short months? This is where he was now, almost blowing his load because a woman called him baby. It’s not just a woman though. It’s her. Holy fuck it’s her, and the sound of her voice is like directly tied to his dick or something. Shit.

The couches on the terrace are perfect for sex in broad daylight. It’s completely secluded to just them, but anyone at the other hotels around would easily be able to hear them if they opened a window. It’s just another thing that seems to get them both hot and bothered. Her body is a dream. And he doesn’t need to tie her up to get lost in her. (Even if he really, really liked tying her up). All he needs is the feel of her body against his and his hands to direct her where he wants her to go, where he needs her to go for both of them to explode.

“Fuck.Honey you’re dripping. You’re dripping all over my dick.” He groaned tugging her thighs more ruggedly against his own.

“Baby I--I wanna cum.” She gasped, voice breathy and chaotic as her hips bucked like a fucking dream. “I wanna cum on it. Please?”

“It’s yours. Cum on it. Make yourself cum.”

He reached around her waist to grind his fingers deep into her clit. Her ass began to bounce against him, quick and sharp and rugged. He’s barely holding on by a thread. And then she starts to squeeze down on him, her hips working to bring herself to her own climax, and he’s already done for.

“Fuck! I’m cumming.”

His fingers work harder on her clit, dropping down to his knees to drive desperately into her with everything he’s got left inside of him. It thrusts her over the back of the couch and he plasters himself against her back grinding tightly with everything that he’s got.. When she cums it’s just another accomplishment, another moment of making her feel good. It’s all he’s ever really wanted since they met.

“Holy fucking shit.” She gasped collapsing against his chest. “So good.”

“Yea? Still think I can’t dom you and date you at the same time?”

“Shhhh. No one has time for you sir, I can’t feel my legs.”

He nuzzled his way into her neck placing kisses against the skin. His arms were still wrapped around her and her fingers were playing in his hair. It was different than their usual hook ups, for sure. But, he liked it. He liked feeling close to her. He liked touching her and feeling her heart beat beneath his finger tips. Did she know how amazing she was?

“You want me to go get a towel?” He asked softly, pecking at her ear.

She hummed. “Not yet. Don’t leave yet.”

God he was ruined. Just like that.

“Yea okay.”

***

She hops in the shower and he has every intention of following her, of maybe pressing her into the shower door and fucking her until the glass breaks. But then his phone starts ringing and she giggles and runs off leaving his dick to twitch against his thigh. He was stupid on her. Aboslutely idiotic. And whoever was getting in the way of his idiocy was about to get an ear full.

“There better be someone dying!” He huffed eyes still very much on the shower where perhaps the most beautiful woman alive was waiting for him.

“That can be arranged. Can you explain to me why I had to find out from Tiffany that your half whit ass is in Rome right now instead of New York?” His dad roared.

Remember that whole things falling apart narrative? Surprise.

“Shit. Dad look I..I just needed to get away for awhile okay?”

“On the comapny fucking jet nonetheless?!”

“That jet has been open to family members as long as I’ve been alive. Since when is it even a problem?”

“Since you’ve been on that jet more than you’ve been in my office. I am tired of trying to explain this to you Shawn. The rules are very simple. You work for me, you do a good job, you get your inheritance. If you don't, you know what happens Shawn. Is that what you want, to make me have to do that to you?”

“Look Dad I,” He let his voice drop softer, shyer. “It’s not what it looks like. This isn’t just me fucking off okay? I--I like someone. Like really like them. And I just wanted to impress her. She’s different. And I wanted her to like me. This isn’t one of my hookups, I swear.”

He hadn’t liked someone in so long, hadn’t even come close to what he was feeling for y/n. Even though his dad was a dick and they had fought since the time he was eleven, there was still a part of him that yearned for his approval. It was hard not to get caught up in what the world knew his dad to be. It was hard not to feel like if he could just make him proud, just make him happy, then everything would be okay. He hadn’t been that naive in a long time, but it still pulled at him every now and again.

Manny sighed. “Great, son. That doesn’t help the fact that you went behind my back and are continuously neglecting your duties.”

“I--I’m not though. Niall is sitting at sixteen songs as we speak. You only wanted twelve remember? I convinced the producers to look into doing a deluxe edition. That’s gonna make the label happy, Niall happy, and it’s more money for you right? I’m back in LA in a week to work on the roll out for Sarah Leone to the press. I’m kind of working my ass off here. I’m doing everything you wanted.”

“Look whatever just get your ass back to New York, okay?” He muttered.

“I’ll be back in two days.”

“Shawn.”

“Two days. I’ll be back in two days, and I’ll keep living in this hell of a life you’ve set up for me , alright? See you then.”

He tossed his phone back onto the bed in frustration. The noose tightened a little in his absence, sick and tired of always fighting and always losing. It seemed like no matter what happiness he carved out for himself, he was always going to have to return home. Maybe he was kidding himself. Maybe there was no winning in this life.

He stands there for like forty-five seconds feeling sorry for himself, and just fully like a piece of shit. And then he hears her. It’s soft and gentle and sweet. He moves a little closer to the bathroom, the door still open and her naked body visible through the foggy glass door. She’s singing.

“I’m like a bird, I’ll only fly away.” She cooed softly. “I don’t know where my soul is, I don’t know where my home is.”

Her voice was soulful and low, her fingers cupping her breasts and rolling down over her hips as she sang. It really kind of hit him in his heart. He leaned against the edge of the doorway, head lolling back for support at this gorgeous sound coming out of this gorgeous woman. The music lover in him just wanted to sit on the floor and listen to her all day, it was so pretty. Maybe map out some harmonies for the two of them. And the fact that he could see the smile on her lips as she sang only made his heart feel two times too big for his sturnemum. He wasn’t ready for the way that she could make him feel. He thought he’d known that, thought he was preparing himself. Not so much. He wasn’t sure one could prepare themselves for a woman like y/n. Maybe that was his lesson to learn.

She catches sight of him out of the corner of her eye and her lips glue firmly shut. He practically pouts when she stops singing. His arms crossed against his chest tighten in dissatisfaction.

“What are you doing?” She whined leaning her head out of the shower.

He shrugged. “Was just listenin’. You didn’t tell me you sang.”

“You didn’t ask. And I don’t. I was just...humming.”

“Humming?” He laughed softly. “Okay. Well you hum beautifully.”

“Well thank you, I suppose. Was your phone call okay?”

“No. Not quite but, I’m good now. Can I wash your back for you maybe?”

“Yea. Boy, you ain’t gotta ask to wash my back. Come on!”

He steps back into the steam of the shower and it’s like nothing exists but the two of them. And he just really wants to keep it that way for a little while longer. If only for a little while longer.

***

They’re lying on a hotel bed that’s so soft it feels like they’re sinking. After another glorious round of sex he found himself tangled in the sheets beside her. Their heads at the foot of the bed because that’s the position where he’d made her cum last, and their feet intertwined at the headboard. She’s not looking at him, but instead up at the ceiling. This doesn’t seem to stop him from peering over at her. She’s kind of too beautiful to not look at.

“Can I ask you something?” He hedged carefully.

She peered over at him, eyes warm and sated.

“Yes.”

“I don’t...I really don’t know how to ask, or what to ask. And maybe--maybe I’m gonna come across like some dick, but I don’t wanna do that with you. I want to learn ya know? I want to understand.”

“Shawn?” She pressed getting his attention. “Calm down. Just ask.”

He nodded softly and took a deep breath. His fingers twitched anxiously against his stomach.

“That stuff you said earlier on the plane...you know about--about the trump supporter, and how that made you feel? And then sometimes...sometimes it sounds like you don’t really like white people, which like makes sense right? We’re the worst. But I just...I wanna understand more about...about what that means for you? Fuck. I’m sorry. That sounded dumb just saying it.”

He closes his eyes ready for her to slap him and take his jet all the way back to New York. He thinks maybe he’d deserve it. It wasn’t even that he’d never been with a Black woman before. Black Women were beautiful and ethereal and wonderful. But, even his tiny white man brain could understand that the state of the world was simply a little different nowadays. His mediocre understanding of racism and privilege simply wasn’t enough. And he knew that if he wanted to be with this woman, if he wanted to feel like he deserved to be near her and absorb her intellect, than he should probably do his absolute best to understand the world in which she walked. Because it certainly looked different from his own.

He feels her hand on his chest and his eyes flutter open. She curled her fingers around his own and sent him another gentle smile that made his toes curl at the other end of the bed.

“It’s not dumb.” She assured him. “You’re asking. You might not have the language, but you’re asking. And that means a lot to me, okay? A lot.”

He nodded his head dumbly, eagerly hanging on every word that she said. She lied back once again, her head nestling a little closer to his. She doesn’t let go of his fingers.

“So, I do hate white people sometimes.” She mumbled. “Sometimes in the discourse Black folks will often try to explain that it’s not all white people, it’s just some. And most days I can get there. I can recognize that. But like… that’s not really how it works you know? Even white people who wouldn’t lynch my black ass grew up in a culture that would. Even white folks who might not feel the need to say the n-word grow up in a culture that situates their body, their worth, their value over mine. And even if that’s not your fault, and I can recognize that it isn’t you know? That’s how privilege works, it’s subliminal. But even if it’s not your fault, it doesn’t mean that you don’t benefit. And it definitely doesn’t mean that you haven’t absorbed messages about my inferiority.”

He watches her face the entire time, more specifically the emotions that seem to rush through every pore and every muscle. There’s a bit of agony on her features. A bit of frustration. But as she warms up there’s a freedom to it too. He knows that she’s not editing her words. She’s not doing anything for his benefit. He asked and so she would tell him, in whatever way was meaningful for her.

“White people just...sometimes it really seems like y’all don’t give a shit. I’ve had the cops called on me at the very building that I work at. On the top floor, with some of the most powerful people in show bizz twenty-seven times since I started. To the point where Mike in security has to keep an updated description of me every time I change my hair just in case. I have walked onto sets to manage my artists and been told that the back up dancers are in the trailer around back. Every step I take, every goddamn day, there is always at least one white person there to tell me that I don’t deserve it. That I don’t belong. And the intersections of my blackness with my womanhood mean that I am consistently and constantly facing an uphill battle of two indentities that the world just doesn’t give a fuck about.”

He couldn’t look away from her. Never had he ever seen her be so vulnerable for him. Y/n was always just an inch or two behind a wall, always peeking out to give him glimpses but never really showing herself in her entirety. He watched the way that her chest rose and fell more rapidly, watched the way her fingers tightened around his own, and her eyebrows wrinkled on her forehead. It was anxiety. She was anxious and angry and sad. The way that her lips pointed down and her eyes blinked faster than normal told him as such. It kind of broke his heart.

And it’s all so new for him that the only thing he can do is follow his instincts and hope that either he doesn’t fuck it up, or that maybe she’ll forgive him if he does. So, he rested his head firmer against her and held her hands just as tight like maybe it might root her a little better in this room with him, like maybe she might feel safe with him.

“And the people...the people that do these things to you. That do these racist acts all the time they--they look like me don’t they?”

Her eyes that were trained on the ceiling fell down to meet his again. They’re still sad, but a little softer now.

She nodded slowly a bit of a grin forming on her lips.

“I’ma be honest ain’t nobody walking around looking quite like you but...yes they--they kind of look like you.”

He nodded slowly and tilted his head back to peer up at the ceiling now. There’s an anxiety to it for him too. In asking the questions that he didn’t have answers to, to be vulnerable enough in his ignorance. There’s a desire to get it right because she’s important to him, and then a dread when he realizes the time it will take to get there, and the pain that might cause her along the way.

“Shit y/n...why the hell would you even wanna go out with me? Even I hate me right now.” He sighed.

“That’s just the white guilt talking baby,” She snorted before sobering up quickly. “Look it’s complicated right? Like given my problems with white people and white men in particular, I’m firm enough in my blackness and my identity to recognize everything that I just explained to you, while also recognizing that things are never black and white. No pun intended. I can still love your humanity and your individuality as long as you’re willing to do the same for me. I can recognize that not all white people are the same, that you all think alike. I just need the space to have conversations like this. I need someone who cares enough to learn. Anything else isn't worthy of my time. Either you’re down with me always, even when it isn’t convenient, or you’re not. So, which is it?”

Her eyes are wide and clear. It’s that firmness in the set of her jaw that gets him. She’s dead serious. Either he buys into her, and all of her, or he doesn’t deserve any of her. He can see that. He can understand it. It’s not that he wants her bad enough to “deal” with the rest of it. It’s that he wants her bad enough to understand all of her. He wants to know. Needs to.

“I’m down.” He assured her reaching for her cheek in his palm. “For all of it.”

“You’re sure?” She mumbled with desperate eyes. “Cause if you’re not we can go back New York and just be fuck buddies again. You can still find you some white girl without hundreds of years of internalized genocide and systemic oppression on her shoulders.”

He shook his head and kissed her until the tension melted from her body. Because he needed it to. He needed her belief in him, her trust.

“I’m so damn sure it’s insane. Just want you.” He whispered.

She reached for his lips pulling him back to kiss her again.

“Promise.” She demanded as if it was even an option.

“I promise.”

***

Permanent taglist

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idkwhoiamanymorebutwtf · 4 years

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Imagine Sasha and Max being friends tho.

(i’ll be real this whole thing took multiple hours to type please somebody actually read this or I might die tbh-)

Like I know they had one episode together but think about them a c t u a l l y being friends.

(below are a ton of headcanons for a friendship between them)

- Obviously they have a bit of respect for one another because of their alliance of convenience, but their friendship would probably be forged on laughing at someone else. Whether it's their friends fucking up or Pikeman's general incompetence or whatever else. I can imagine now their camps are competing or something but the stakes don't matter to them, so Sasha and Max just end up shit talking everyone else and watching the show.

- Since their friendship was forged on calling people out they'd kinda just start hanging out specifically to rant and gossip about the shit that goes down around camp. Like Max'll get fed up with how idiotic the campbell campers are and come to vent to Sasha and she'll be here for it, because of course she is or Sasha ends up getting ditched by Tabii and Erin again and just kinda goes to Max to talk about how annoyed she is.

- Sasha keeps pointing out things like the circled under Max's eyes and other facial discrepancies and eventually he'll just be like "well how do you look perfect all the time?!?" because it's not fair. Sasha gasps super loud and immediately goes full makeover mode. She immediately shoves a ton of makeup onto him and prescribes him a skincare routine and Max isn't sure about it but he's actually kinda self-conscious and Sasha's like "do you wanna end up looking like Pikeman?" so Max follows her instructions to the letter and he looks amazing.

- After that they kinda just end up doing each other's makeup all the time and stuff like that. Max usually just uses like concealer and stuff because he doesn't want it to look like he's trying, but occasionally Max'll give Sasha permission to put some eyeliner on him or something and he'll never admit it but he l o v e s the way it looks. They start hanging out even more of course because it's not like Max can go to anyone else about the whole skincare/makeup thing and honestly Sasha loves her other friends but it's relieving to hang out with someone more willing to gossip with her (even if she's slightly salty that Max doesn't have enough hair for her to mess with like Erin and Tabii do)

- Sasha forces Max to watch a ton of shitty highschool movies and Max doesn't really like most of them but he'll put up with it because he (although he'll never admit it) cares about Sasha (and is a little intimidated by her when she's upset). He doesn't like them but occasionally Max can also coerce her into watching a horror movie with him so they're even in his books (even if the poor thing has to watch way more of her movies than he makes her watch)

- They actually end up being r e a l l y protective of each other. Like most of the time, they'll let people fuck with their friends (so long as no real harm is done), yknow? But if anyone says a word about Max and it gets back to Sasha they'll literally end up the laughing stock of Lake Lilac by the end of the day because Sasha's a bitch who can spread a rumor like wildfire. Alternatively, Max'll sick Nikki and Neil on anyone who fucks with Sasha (which won't end up pretty). And that's if they're lucky because that kid could do so much worse if he's got the right motivation. They try to hide the fact that they're acting in defense of one another and justify why they're screwing over whoever it is they're screwing over, but it's honestly just vengeance for their friend.

- All the gossiping makes the two more unstoppable than they were before tbh. Like Max always had other Camp Campbell camper's secrets tucked away for blackmail purposes and Sasha needs to know everything going on in her turf so of course she's got dirt on all the Flower Scouts. And it's not exactly hard to figure out the Woodscout's. So with their swapping info constantly both of them end up knowing everything about everyone and being able to screw them over in a heartbeat. Basically, hanging out together makes those two terrifying.

- They're also more confident as a duo than most other times. Like don't get me wrong, they're both pretty sure of their capabilities, and they trust their individual friend groups to have their back, but they know that the other person is competent in manipulation and incredibly cunning and they value each other's skillsets because they're super similar. When you're confident in yourself, having somebody who's like you around only makes you doubly confident. They feel super badass whenever they team up in something and it's great.

- Most of their arguments are probably petty tbh. Max calls one of Sasha's favorite movies dumb (she bases her life around highschool stereotypes and dumb cliche movies, of course, she gets pissed when he insults them) or Sasha makes one too many comments about Max's physical appearance (the girl is obsessed with looking good and as much as Max is willing to listen to her advice, it gets to him when she comments on his weight or how he needs to sleep more because the circles under his eyes are getting harder to cover up. Like, he has depression, do you not realize that weight changes and bad sleeping habits are a symptom of that?!?). A common source of disagreement is how used to being in charge they each are. Like yeah, they know they don't always have to take the lead, but it's so ingrained into them that they struggle with it. Max watches Sasha's dumb movies all the time and took her advice on skincare and stuff so she occasionally forgets that she's not his boss like she's in charge of her other friend's and of course he's willing to compromise on some things but he doesn't take well to being treated like a lackey and she's too stubborn to admit she's wrong half the time.

- Their fights get bad. Despite normally being over small things and the person who's in the wrong normally realizing they're the one who's wrong, both Max and Sasha are very stubborn people and they will die on this hill no matter how petty the whole thing is honestly. They'll scream and throw things and once or twice they've even wound up physically fighting. Usually, if it comes to an actual physical altercation they'll stop there because actually injuring your friend is super fucked up. Once Max threw a book at Sasha without thinking and it gave her a black eye. Another time Sasha literally slapped him and it left a bruise for like a week. They both felt like shit after. When Sasha gave Max a bruise she literally cried and he forgave her on the condition that she help him cover the bruise with makeup (He said he'd dealt with worse and something about the way he said it made her uneasy. She can't place why). The time that Max hit Sasha with a book he froze up completely and refused to even look at her for like an hour. Partially because he felt guilty and couldn't verbalize his regret but it was honestly more than that. You don't shut down and practically disassociate for an hour because you don't know what to say. There was absolutely something wrong with the way he shut down after the whole thing but she didn't push for answers and he apologized and they just decided to forget it ever happened. They never aim to actually hurt one another, they just don't have many ways to actually get out their frustrations. They never once actually physically hurt the other more than once each. It's just not something either of them wants to go through again, honestly. If their arguments don't end with one of them going too far and the two felt like shit and making up within seconds one of them will eventually storm off and they'll both get super petty. Making sarcastic remarks at one another whenever they see each other, pointedly ignoring the other, the occasional mean prank. Usually, they forget all about it within a week, though, because as stubborn as they are something dumb happens to one of them and they'll need to vent. None of their fights are ever serious, as nasty as they are, so it's easy to get over and never gets mentioned again.

- They had one serious fight that actually put their friendship in danger. Tabii had ended up crying to Sasha because she was devastated over being rejected by Neil. Like, she was super broken up about how he doesn't love her and it's probably because she's ugly even though Erin told her she wasn't. Sasha wasn't happy about it. At all. Like, she normally just rolls her eyes and brushes it off whenever she sees Tabii going after him, but she watched so many stupid cliche high school movies where the girl got the guy if he was good and anyone who rejects the protagonist is an asshole. So Sasha, going by movie logic, was pretty sure that Neil was insulting Tabii by rejecting her and was a terrible person. She also failed to realize that Tabii's whole attitude towards pursuing Neil was kinda creepy and stalkerish to begin with and she already had a low opinion of him since he's a nerd who called her a cunt and hangs out with Nikki, who she also hates. She did not like seeing one of her best friends in the world (who's basically like a sister to her tbh) cry. So Sasha, with a burning rage towards Neil, wound up spilling the whole thing to Max. And he wasn't happy with her for insulting his friend either. Max basically cussed Sasha out because Tabii's behavior was creepy and it was making Neil super uncomfortable, which he was not cool with. He told her she was a moron if she saw nothing wrong with how Tabii acted but thought that Neil was out of line for rejecting her. Sasha didn't take well to being called a moron or to her friend being accused of being creepy, and she said something along the lines of "It's not my fault you hang out with a retarded nerd and a girl who can't even be a girl properly". Max basically called her an ignorant bitch and told her to go fuck herself, then he left. Normally their arguments are long and wordy and even violent but this time he just cut it short and stormed out. Sasha still thought she was right, of course, because that boy who Max was friends with had made Tabii cry and he was a moron for not liking her! And yeah maybe the insults to Nikki weren't exactly called for but every word was true, right? She just kinda expected Max to get over it eventually but a few weeks passed and he never really did. The fact that Max had called her ignorant kinda stuck out to her more than anything. That's the same thing Neil had called her, isn't it? Why would they both use the same insult? It's not like that was a go-to thing to call somebody. The whole thing drove her crazy and eventually when she confronted him about it she got a long lecture about how romantic relationships work, the fact that bullying a girl over dressing or acting slightly differently from her is a shitty thing to do, and that calling Neil 'retarded' is offensive because he's actually mentally ill and even if he weren't, the word's still terrible. She didn't quite understand all of it but she got enough to feel guilty and she apologized. Sasha still doesn't really like Nikki and Neil much and it's not like she's stopped shit-talking them, but she's eased up a bit because she doesn't want Max that angry at her again, and in a way she can see how she maybe...was a tiny bit wrong.

- They don't normally get super sad or deep on each other. Neither really likes to be emotional or open up so they wouldn't exactly initiate any sort of depressing dialogue. However, they are both observant people so they notice things anyway. Max notices how Sasha talks a little too much about her weight and thinks anything over one hundred pounds is horrifically obese to the point where she diets incessantly. He notices that she cares too much about looking young and pretty too. Damned highschool movies. Sasha, on the other hand, notices that Max doesn't trust adults at all and that he flinches when she gets too loud (even if he tries to cover it up) and that he either doesn't sleep at all or sleeps way too often...amoung other things of course. They don't talk about these things out loud but they've both deduced that the other isn't healthy.

- Max practically forces Sasha to eat every time they see each other and refuses to watch a single movie with her that even mentions dieting in a positive light because she is ten years old and shouldn't be counting calories and refusing absolutely all fat. He'll insist on doing her makeup and will make sure to do it lighter and lighter every time because as much as he himself appreciates makeup and uses it to cover parts of his skin he doesn't like, she needs to be more confident and he can't in good conscience let her go on the way she's been going on. Sasha, on the other hand, if she ever notices he's having a bad day and isn't functioning well, will let him hide out with her all day even if she has other things to do and he should be at camp. Occasionally she'll even let Nikki or Neil in her room if she or they feel Max really needs their support (he can't just stay at his own camp, he'd never be allowed out of activities all day). She doesn't exactly understand why he's sad and tired and angry and has a hard time with sleep but she won't ask. Sasha has some theories on why he doesn't trust any adult and flinches when she yells but she doesn't like thinking on that one too long (his comment when she slapped him 'i've had worse' comes to mind). They're not always great at it and they don't always understand but they try to help each other even if they have an unspoken rule not to ask questions.

- While they normally spend their hang-out time watching movies or doing each other's makeup/hair/nails or talking crap about other's behind their backs, they've occasionally had adventures of their own. They typically leave Lake Lilac for these, honestly. Sasha couldn't care less about anything going on at Camp Campbell and Max isn't about to get involved in Flower Scout politics so if they're ever inclined to go on an adventure it's in town or even the big city. And usually involves crime one way or another tbh. Once they accidentally managed to get Max elected mayor of the whole town and Sasha as treasurer. Money was embezzled, fires were set, and they're now banned from muffin tops for life. That's the kind of adventure those two have whenever they're compelled to do anything at all. Go big or go home, basically.

- They're actually super honest with each other. The general light-hearted nature of their friendship and the fact that they gossip and chatter about pretty much everything that pops into their heads means they don't exactly stress about getting judged or anything like that as long as they aren't confessing to horrific sins or anything.

- They love to fuck with Pikeman. Like they normally just sit around at the Flower Scout's camp or out in town or the city or something like that but occasionally they'll screw him over because they both can agree he's an incompetent asshole who deserves it.

- Sasha flipped her shit when she realized that Max knows how to bake, cook, sew, and knit (he definitely can knit and sew we’ve seen him do it in the show and I headcanon he’d have to learn to cook and stuff cause his parents don’t feel like doing it for him) She nearly died and made him sew/knit her a bunch of stuff for her and decided they had to bake together and she was just super happy about it. Once upon a time, she would've judged him for it because of gender roles and stuff and she wasn't used to guys doing any of those things, but after the whole incident where he called her an ignorant bitch she wasn't gonna push it and besides, she was happy to have her gossip and makeup buddy also be able to do those other things with her. Like she can do those things with Tabii and Erin too but Max kinda gets her and she needs a break from the two sometimes.

- Most people don't actually know they're friends. Nikki and Neil are vaguely aware they hang out but they don't see much besides the occasional banter when the Flower Scouts and Camp Campbell interact as a group. Max doesn't talk about Sasha much around them since he knows they don't exactly like her. Sasha doesn't dare mention their friendship around Tabii and Erin because they'd freak out completely and probably assume they're dating since those two don't realize guys and girls can actually have platonic friendships. She doesn't want that drama. Their friendship is kinda a secret, which is surprising since they may not talk about it but they visit each other and chat enough when they cross paths that you'd think people would realize. But they're kinda glad. Lake Lilac is a chaotic place and when they're hanging out it's one of the only times they even have the option of just relaxing.

(imma be real I literally came up with the idea of those two being really close friends because I watched the episode where Nikki hung out with Dolph and Nerris and I thought 'Max have other friend too? :0')

Literally, ANY input is welcome. I spent multiple hours on this so if you have anything to say you know I'm down for a conversation about it

#camp camp #cc sasha #cc max #sasha and max

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ruutless · 3 years

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(queen of the wack) snippet

i messed something up again. i got free tickets to OZY fest and when my friends told me “no” i invited my cousin. he took the train in from fairfield and since i showed up late, my tickets went to someone else. my cousin could tell i woke up feeling worthless. i’d recently been assaulted a block away from my apartment by a robber who i tripped without thinking about it, and i’d been drinking to cope with everything it brought up. in the days after the assault, i looked at my bruised legs, remorseful for once again putting myself in harms way and then deep sorrow that i had to tell my mom how to care about how fucked up my legs got. i took a photo of them every day just to document my own twisted, self pity. when my friend had to make time to come over to nurture me, i hated so much that she told me how to be vulnerable with her that i never ended up doing it. using my loved ones’ behavior as proof of what i deserved, i told myself i didn’t need anyone’s affection, forced myself to be alone with what happened and used cheap, giant bottles of wine to get myself through the day instead. when my buzz wore off at work, i’d disassociate so i could get myself through the rest of my shift. once home and once again drinking straight out the bottle, i passed the time texting a sexy, closeted christian who’d taken me out on the back of his motorcycle a few weeks prior. he kept telling me i was submitting to my demons and antagonized me with his religious shame, believing that’s what would get me to open up to him so he could swoop in and save me. if that robbery taught me anything, the only one who’s gonna save me, is me.

i looked that robber dead in his eyes, silent and still with the truth after he yelled out, demanding, “what’d you do that for, you bitch! i should smack you!” and that’s why he beat me up on that sidewalk instead of saving himself from being arrested by the fire marshal who was stopped at the red light. whatever, two weeks later and, i think everything is fine. except, it’s only 11 am and i’m pissed i didn’t drink before i left the house and it’s obvious my cousin is passively upset about the fact i was late showing up to claim the OZY fest tickets. it’s a good thing we’re both used to the feeling of being let down because when we think of something else to do instead, ramen at some place on the upper east side sounds good enough for us. when we sit down, i pretend i don’t want to drink and tell myself i’ll be able to get through the rest of the day sober. i give up as soon as i tell myself the lie and make sure to keep my sake cup full while my cousin babbles on about how much fun he’s having at the festival. there’s only so much of his irritating drivel i can withstand before i apologize again for biffing it with the whole OZY fest thing but when he tells me, “that’s not it,” i’m met with a wave of anxiety.

the more he talks the more sake i sip. soon enough, i’m drunk and drowning in information. our server passes by and i ask her for more alcohol before she’s out of ear shot. my cousin’s finished talking and looks at me from across the table, fear, as always, keeping his eyes open wide and in a desperate attempt to soothe his quiet unrest, i feign anger. anger is always easy except with me it’s always displaced and eventually turns real, but since my cousin can’t tell the difference, i ride the wave. the truth is, i’ve always suspected the beginning of my life was deliberately kept secret from me—now i knew it was and the reason why.

thinking back to that one conversation i had with my aunt about a paternity test my grandma demanded her son take, i wouldn’t be surprised if she just said those things to me so she could soothe her own emotions. my aunt likes to think she was better with me than my mom but the truth is, she was just as incapable when it came to teaching me how to channel the fear running deep in my blood. when my aunt decided i was old enough to hear the truth about what the adults were doing the whole time i was having a “childhood,” i was already smart enough to know she was biased and secretly wished to turn me against my own mother. little did she know, my mother had already turned on me—and she did so real quick too, right after the first time i consciously rejected her. i was three or so and don’t ask me how i know that, i just do. and even though i’m writing about it like it’s no big deal and i find ways to laugh about how effortlessly sadistic my life is, a big part of me still hates that it’s actually depressing as all fuck. but knowing that she had an affair con el esposo de mi tía, around the time i would have been conceived—it just makes my beautiful dark twisted fantasy all the more pure in its perfection.

#writing #fiction writing #author #work in progress #literature #literary writing #ozy fest #new york city #upper east side #central park #my beautiful dark twisted fantasy #trauma #generational trauma #emotional neglect

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dungeonmastersconsortium · 5 years

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Sorry y’all, tonight’s one of those nights where the beholder is Big Depressed™, Bipolar is a bitch. I’ve been so anxious for so long that of course a big depression crash is coming. I promise I’ll try to be less of a bummer tomorrow. My brain is just telling me that half of my best friends don’t want me around anymore and that I’m terribly unattractive, and that my life will amount to nothing.

Why am I talking about this?

I think being open about my mental illness, specifically Bipolar, is important. As much as I don’t like the idea, I do have a fair number of followers, and I’ve never really seen anyone talk about what actually being bipolar is like.

It’s much better now that we’ve found a medication that seems to be working and we’re getting up to the goal dose, but I still have a lot of trouble regulating my emotions. Sometimes I don’t notice the emotions I’m actually feeling, being somewhat disassociated from them. My emotions can also be thrown way out of balance by things that can incite emotional reactions, making my entire day (or more, if I’m unlucky) about that. If I’ve had a really good couple of weeks, I know a couple bad ones are coming soon. Not exactly when, but there’s a dark cloud that hangs over my head that says “everything will go wrong eventually, and by the way, you’ll die early.”

During my manic phases, I get an “itch” that I feel compelled to scratch. Sometimes it’s hooking up with a complete stranger. Sometimes it’s getting blasted drunk. Sometimes it’s going for a walk and ending up so far away from home I have to call home for a ride or nearly pass out on the walk home.

Currently, I’m in a depressive phase. Y’all have seen some of that already, given my last few posts, but it’s a lot of things. I’ve sat around all day, losing time a lot. I watched Pitch Black today around noon and then went to play some “They Are Billions,” and then my partner came home and asked me if I was okay because she had tried to call me and I didn’t answer. I told her I’d start dinner in half an hour, and lost another hour. I just sort of... exist during these times.

Again, apologies if this isn’t the stuff y’all want to see, it’s just the last few asks I’ve gotten have been reminding me of how I feel today, and I’ve got a public forum to talk about it on.

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hisgirlwonder · 5 years

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Atonement - Part One

Length: 2.5k words Warning: Extreme smut/extreme humiliation, multiple kinks – maybe don’t read if you aren’t into that sort of thing? Synopsis: Michael finds out you disobeyed his one rule and decides to make an example of you in front of the rest of the Outpost. Notes: I tried to be somewhat brutal with this OS but I also added in a touch of ~feelings~ because Michael is still human and he let Y/N into a part of his life that nobody else was allowed into. Basically, Y/N is in love with Michael but he scares her/she doesn’t think she’s worthy of him (or that anyone is) so she does something careless to try and relieve her from the numbness she’s going through. She’s locked her feelings deep inside her and it’s causing her so much pain which is why she did what she did. Michael feels the same but doesn’t know how to show love anymore after being hurt one too many times/rising to power when he becomes the Antichrist.

You’ve held the position of Michael’s assistant for the past month and it has been interesting, to say the least. Most of the time there are perks and then other times you’ve witnessed less-than-desirable things happen. It has taught you many things including the fact that that man has more power in one of his ring-adorned fingers than all of the inhabitants in Outpost 3 put together.

“Would you like some water, sir?”

Michael sits at the head of the table about to hold a conference on his laptop. Today was different to others – his meeting wasn’t with The Co-Operative instead it was with those who lived at Outpost 3.

He nods his head in response to your question as he usually does and continues on with what he’s about to say.

“I’ll make this quick. There appears to be an issue within this Outpost. Before any of you make an assumption it’s not the incessant bitching behind my back nor is it about holding a grudge against me. The issue at hand is that some of you here think that it’s acceptable to open your legs without my permission. I implore that you all remember my father owns you therefore I own you too. You only eat because I allow you to be fed, you only sleep because I allow you to rest. I’ve given the privileges back that Venable had once restricted, and what do I ask for in return? The decency for openness and honesty. You’re all about to learn soon why you shouldn’t cross me.” He abruptly closes his laptop, without so much as a goodbye, to end the session.

You know exactly what Michael is talking about. It’s you. You’re the issue. You slept with one of the other members in the Outpost. It wasn’t anything great but you needed to feel something, anything.

A shaky hand of yours picks up the glass of water and places it down in front of Michael on a coaster. When your eyes meet briefly it’s very clear you’ve well and truly fucked up; nausea is pooling in the pit of your belly and your skin is crawling. How did you ever think you’d get away with it?

Usually the lack of words being spoken isn’t a cause for concern when you’re in his office – the room would be filled with the sound of him tapping his keyboard and not him tapping the table out of concealed aggression. You gather together any courage left inside to speak, trying to break the tension in the air, “Michael, I know this is about me. I can explain.”

He stops tapping on the table and leans back into his chain with clasped hands held in front of his stomach. One second he’s cold and the next the cockiness he begins to emit almost chokes you.

“Oh, can you? That’s good! Then I will have an answer as to why you’re making a fool out of me and we can forget this whole thing happened. I mean, you’re just a poor little girl and nothing is ever your fault, right?”

These stupid actions were going to cost you everything you’d worked so hard for over the last four weeks; You and Michael had built up a special rapport. You realised words won’t help your cause but attempt to apologise regardless, “I’m sorry I just-“

He interrupts your attempts at making amends as his interest was placed elsewhere. To him, an apology only came across as a vapid attempt at appeasing the pain he was experiencing.

“Call me intrigued but why did you let that boy inside you, anyway?”

Your words stay stuck in your throat and won’t budge, leaving you to stumble over them when you finally force them out, “I-I-I j-just wanted to f-feel something.”

Michael’s sight out of those blue eyes runs rampant over your body; half curious at what you may look like naked on his bed and half deciding how best to cut you down.

“I see. This will work perfectly since you certainly are going to feel something. It truly is unfortunate. If only you came to me about your urges then this could have been avoided, but you had to be a slut, didn’t you? Go into the bathroom and get undressed. I don’t want to look at you right now.”

You’d say Michael was killing you softly but that was an understatement. He knows exactly where to hit you and he does it hard. You could deal with disapproval from your family, from Venable, but not Michael. For every ounce of intimidation in your body that Michael gave you there was just as much of an ache to fill the inevitable loneliness in his life that he must have felt. You knew you weren’t worthy of such a privilege; nobody here was.

You weren’t sure how long it took you to reach the destination because you disassociated to deal with the embarrassment, like you always do in a stressful situation, but Michael snaps you back to reality when you get to those doors, letting you know the two of you had arrived.

Beyond the entrance there was room slightly bigger than your living quarters. It had beautiful wooden floors, reminding you of the house you used to live in, but was decorated rather plainly and at present full of people. He walks to stand in front of everyone and you’re following a few paces behind; refusing to take your eyes off the ground in an endeavour to hide others from seeing your shame.

Michael takes a position with you by his side where neither of you can hide. You bring your head up and scan the crowd – your eyes count twenty people in the room; twenty faces staring at you.

His feet begin pacing across the floor while looking straight ahead, refusing to even glance at anyone.

“This girl here is someone you may or may not recognise but the point is she is naked, stripped of any ability to conceal herself, reeking of desperation. She’s going to atone for her wrongdoings before all of you. Not only is this her own punishment but she serves as a warning. If anyone else would like the same treatment as you’re about to witness by all means feel free to disobey me. Need I remind you, however, if you are in this room and still follow through then your punishment will be more severe than Y/N receives today.”

Michael retreats to your side and forces you to kneel before him. You comply with the demands; any further disobedience would only make things worse. You clench your mouth shut to hold back any snivelling sounds because Michael would only revel in these and who knows what kind of effect that would have on what he was about to do to you.

A hand reaches for your face with the thumb and index finger forcing open your mouth, causing pain to your cheeks from the pressure. He pushes you backwards out of his hand, jarring you slightly. His eyes lock on you waiting for you to steady yourself again before he decides to inflict the next lot of degradation on your body.

You become balanced but are still unaware of what Michael is going to subject you to; whatever it is, you’re sure that you deserve it. He spits in your face followed by that same hand which squeezed you rubbing it in, smiling as he does it. It seemed as if your ignorance act of defiance had hardened his heart. It became more and more apparent that Michael did care for you underneath it all but it was late.

You wipe back the spit from your face and Michael squats in front, the two of you becoming level. His tone changes and this time he speaks to you as if you were a child in need of praise, “You’re such a good girl, aren’t you? Now you want to be clean? Oh, I don’t think so.”

He rises from the squatting position to be at full height, leaving you feeling like he might just step on you. Little do you know that would be better than what’s about to come. Michael says nothing but pulls himself out of his pants, semi-flaccid, and starts to urinate on you.

“You wanted to be a dirty bitch so now you get what’s coming to you. How does it feel to be my toilet? Is this how dirty you wanted it? Are you feeling something now, huh?”

The contrast of the temperatures catches you off guard – this warm liquid against your cold, naked skin. The stream hits your face and runs down your body to cover your tits and thighs in a golden shower. Once his urges have been relieved, he pulls out a crumpled tissue from his pocket to wipe any stray drips then he forces your mouth open and shoving it inside what he calls your other useless hole. You spit it out, scratching away at the bits left behind on your tongue, and listen as Michael addresses the audience, high off the authority he was holding.

“Y/N told me her excuse for opening her legs for another member in the Outpost was because she wanted to feel something so we’re giving her just that today. Here comes the fun part. Since this little piss covered whore is so desperate for a nice hot load,” he grabs at your face again, eyes locked with yours and digging his fingers in even harder, “We’re going to give her just that.”

You break away from the contact and look down to Michael’s cock which had hardened at the thought of what he’d just said; the power and control left him needing relief. He starts to stroke himself while belittling you as his hand travelled the length of his member repeatedly, “I know you wish your worthless pussy was my hand but unfortunately for you it’s not. This is as close as you’ll get to sating your desires and fucking me.”

He was right and oh how you wish he wasn’t.

His glance dropped and all you could focus on were the narrowed eyes and furrowing brows – his anger couldn’t mask the enjoyment he was experiencing fucking his hand over your submission. You hadn’t even tried to fight back and he loved it. He loved that you took the punishment he was dealing out. In his eyes, you were a toy planted in the Outpost, his Outpost, purely for his own amusement.

Michael would never tell you that he hired you as his assistant so could watch you; he wanted to take in every inch of the being he was going to destroy. He was the lion, and he decided from the day you arrived that you were his lamb. He was going to rip the flesh from your bones and devour you whole, he just never saw it happening like this.

He didn’t even need to say a word because his face was saying everything - His nostrils became flared, those perfect teeth bit down on his even more perfect lower lip, and it was clear he was holding back the moans in case they escaped his mouth.

It took so much strength to hide his enjoyment but it fell short when it came to him instinctively thrusting while he fucked himself as he got lost in the thrill of it all. It overpowers him and his eyes shut, small moans of pleasure had built up in his lungs and he breathes them out at you, no longer being able to hide the truth.

He edges closer and closer until finally he cannot contain himself anymore. He does what he said he would and covers your face in a thick, hot load. Once his high wears off, he puts his weakening erection away and turns to the crowd, “I hope this has been made very clear.”

So many adulterated thoughts are running through your mind as you’re wiping the viscous mess away. He reads his mind (of course he does) and this is too much for him. He knows it all. Part of you didn’t learn your lesson. Part of you still made him feel like he failed.

He mercilessly drags you out of the room with his hands digging into your arm and throwing you into the corridor. You’re already tired from his torment and are unable to land on your feet which leads you to take a tumble, grazing your knees as you fall down.

“Y/N, I have this sneaking suspicion my punishment didn’t work, care to explain just why that might be?”

You continue trying to clean off what Michael left behind, unable to speak. The sticky remnants of his disgust begin to solidify and you can feel your peach fuzz sticking to your skin.

“Speak to me when I ask you a question, grey, and remember if you lie I will know.”

Gulping back the fear that was bubbling in your throat, you admit that he was right and that it didn’t help you because it made you weak in other ways. Michael’s perfect lips transformed into a smirk on what befell his ears – the confession that transpired in that moment showed him you were putty in his hands.

The next sentence was one that fills you with dread. It became obvious that there was nothing that could be hidden from Michael; he got under your skin and there wasn’t a thing you could do about it.

Seductively he asks, “Do you find me arousing?”

You gazed upon your now dirty fingers, picking the evidence off your nails, avoiding him as best as you can. “Y-y-yes sir.”

“Do you sometimes wish you could be the floor beneath my feet and have me step on you? Remember, I will know if you are dishonest and the consequences will be severe for attempting to lie to me.”

You nod, feeling sheepish at your own desires. It was your deepest, darkest secret that you tried to keep locked away from the world and the one person who you desperately wanted never to find out saw right through you.

“Ah, yes, look at you wallowing in your shame. God, you’re a disgusting mess.”

He strokes your ruined face, lulling you into a false sense of security before yanking you up by your hair, bringing you close to his mouth so you can hear nice and clearly what he has to say.

“Don’t you ever pull that fucking shit again, okay? Otherwise, you’ll give me no choice but to leave you longing to meet the same fate my horses did.”

Taglist: @avesatanormalpeoplescareme @sensitivethot @sammythankyou @sevenwondr

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connywrites · 5 years

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of flesh and blood 22

start - part [21]

Your life will be brighter Your days will be longer Become what you're feeling Flesh and blood Give it up, go It's only illusion A miracle dawning Give into the knowing Flesh and blood Give it up go Truth is just as real As your dream allow It's far away It's all around Forget yourself Cast aside regret It starts, it ends Open up Give it up go

The notification was unbelievable. The text was in clear, bold letters, but still Gavin had difficulty in fathoming such a thing. It was an email from Fowler, yet it held so much power he wasn't sure what to do with it.

The next model was coming out and the RK900 was going to be recycled parts by the morrow. Tears of relief stung in his eyes as he sniffled, and then laughed at himself about it. On top of that, the new models - now labeled QZ180 - a new, state-of-the-art prototype as they tested out new parts and capabilities meanwhile, was going to take its place. He felt like his head was spinning.

The letters and numbers on his back may never completely disappear, but he couldn't see them and had already planned on a way to deal with it. The branding would fade, and so would these terrible memories, assuming he'd never repeat the same mistake again with any newer models.

"Our remaining time together is short. I'll miss our romance," it stated in a vaguely flirtatious, slightly friendly but neutral tone. Gavin wanted to hurl.

"Because of my test run with synthetic emotions, the big mystery of what causes deviancy has been officially solved. You're off of android investigations now and so am I. You'll be continuing to work your job by yourself seeing as they're impressed with your progress and there's a new detective on the field who's going to take the prototype instead." Gavin's face paled, even though he knew he should have been all the more content that his personal nightmare had finally ended.

"Yes. It seems the head of the precinct took your advice into consideration and hired someone new." Gavin didn't know why, but he had a terrible feeling about this.

"I hope you keep your new habits even when I'm gone. I have no reason to relay this information to you, but officer Chen briefly suggested the desire to ask you for a date but had too much anxiety to do so. I thought you might want the honors of telling her your actual sexuality…or not. Do with this information as you please, as I will no longer be here to stop you."

The words were like static to his ears as he felt himself disassociate on the spot. Too much new information, all at once, so his own mind decided to entirely cop out, it seemed.

"Don't worry. I'll only be a little bitch when the situation calls for it,” Gavin said with a scoff and rolled his eyes, cueing a swift pinch in the side. He sucked in a breath between his teeth in a hiss, but his posture immediately straightened.

"Good boy.” It flashed a sly smirk that faded as soon as it came.

“I'll see you again never."

“Can’t wait,” Gavin replied without holding back any of the bite on his tongue. RK900 flashed a familial smile.

“One more thing,” it encouraged, and he shifted his weight to the other heel so he wouldn’t slouch.

“The utilities and mortgage on your new, fully furnished house on 8890 Lafayette Avenue will be paid in full for the next three years and the kitchen will be stocked come your next payday. Also, Fowler wants to see you at the next board meeting.” Still lost in shock with a look of surprise on his face, Gavin tried not to flinch as the android reached forward to put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it.

“You’ve done well. Don’t ruin this for yourself, detective.”

Having a new car was weird, and having someone else in the vehicle was even more bizarre. Starting the machine himself was also brand new, already leaving him confused as he swiped over the interface; updated and integrated with yet another "personality" of artificial intelligence trying to politely talk him through the process, he scoffed as he hit the "mute" button for the pre-recorded voice that tried to play through the speakers. Not blaming him, Tina pretended not to notice, leaning towards the passenger window as she gazed outside with her chin settled into a palm, curious vision watching the buildings pass by.

"So, how do you feel?" She knew it was a loaded question, but her curiosity pushed forward as she glanced to him with focused eyes, mulling over the situation in her head. It felt fake to him for a long time, but he told himself she wouldn't be doing this if she wasn't sincere, even if it was hard to believe.

"Like it's gonna latch its teeth in my throat as soon as I look away. Any minute now," he stated bluntly, staring straight ahead even if he didn't need to watch the road. She frowned, but appreciated his honesty.

"Good riddance," she contributed, and he glanced over to her without turning his head while he wondered about her thoughts over the ordeal. Asking was a different matter of its own.

"I never liked it," she explained herself.

"Always gave me a weird feeling. Now I see why." Careful with her own eye contact, she glanced ahead, up to one of the familiar street signs as the vehicle stopped at an intersection.

Pulling the chicken from the oven by the tray, he set it onto the dining table barely large enough for it to sit with the side dishes of mashed potatoes, salad and dressing, with a bottle of aged wine and a snack tray on the side.

"I didn't know you could cook," she acknowledged, and he huffed with a mental revisit to the 900's 'lessons.'

"I can... put things in the oven and not burn them?" Feeling sheepish, he scratched the back of his neck and shrugged.

"It smells great," she complimented, and for a moment he mentally stepped away from the physical world as he tried to digest the idea of her being nice to him.

"Yeah well, if you chip a tooth, the bill's not on me," he half-jested in an unsure and quiet tone, pulling up a chair for himself.

"It's weird to see you so timid, Reed.”

“How do you think I feel about it?” A twitch in the corner of her lips reminisced a frown.

"Look, if you tell anyone about this, I swear I'll fucking--" Threatening death is not polite, he could hear the RK900’s voice scolding him within his own mind. Clearing his throat and dipping his head, he glanced away with a tired sigh.

"Sorry," he dismissed quickly, leaving her still looking a bit unnerved. Swiping a stray strand of hair back into place, he stared at her, squinting and exhaling a breath through blubbering lips.

"Whatever. All or nothin', here I go." Leaning forward in his seat, he undid his tie, prompting Tina to glance at him sideways with an intrigued but wary gaze.

By the time he shed his shirt and turned around so she could see the various damage across his back as well as the giant initials spanning from the upper part of one shoulderblade across the next, she’d clasped her hands to her mouth with a surprised gasp, murmuring a soft oh my god as the fear sunk from her chest, deep into a heavy knot in her gut. She felt like she might lose her dinner from the sight alone.

"No doctors, I assume?" Shifting back around with a pained wince, he shook his head.

"It had the basic nursing ability of an untrained military medic. I mean, that and it meant to scar," he said with a sigh, heart racing as soon as he said the words in preparation for a scolding that would never come.

"Whatever. I've wanted ink for a while and it basically left me with a trust fund. I'll cover it up," he concluded to her. She wondered if it would really help him to hurt himself after the fact, but respected that it was his body and ultimately his decision.

"I bet it'll look badass," she said with a flimsy smile. He shrugged.

"Wait," she paused as she caught on, "it paid you?"

"Like a rich parent givin' its kid a weekly allowance. These clothes, the gifts? I didn't spend a dime and I haven't touched the account. Didn't know if I really could," he admitted. She hadn't a clue how to digest such a thing, as until that moment she'd only heard of the negative aspects.

"Sometimes it hit me, sometimes it groomed me." Running his hands through his slicked hair as was a newly developed motion of self-conscious stress, he stared down at the table, and the desire to cry revisited him; despite holding back the urge, it shook his voice.

"Sorry. This is a shit show of a party," he murmured.

"Stop apologizing," she said, lowering her posture to try and catch his eyes again, but he didn't look up.

"I hate hearing that. I hate what it's made you, Gavin." This time he looked up, eyes clearly glossy, the purple bags shadowing his gaze accentuating the tired red veins surrounding his gunsilver irises. They used to hold so much coldness before, she thought; now all she saw was fear and regret. It was haunting.

"Me too," he said in a raspy voice, swallowing as his voice cracked.

"I know I'm not a good person. I've always known that. But I can't tell if I'm really better or not." She shook her head.

"Disciplined, maybe, but I wouldn't call this an improvement. I'm sorry, Gavin. I had no idea." There was no more holding back as he squinted his eyes shut, hands starting to shake as he cried. If not for the fear of agitating the wounds, she'd offer a hug or even a shoulder touch, before reminding herself he probably didn't want anything to do with being touched right now.

"Jasmine doesn't exist, by the way." He'd already opened the gates; might as well let the flood through. Confused at first, she gave him a funny look, but seeing the markings from the days before - right next to the scar on his neck - she instantly felt foolish for questioning it.

"It's cool. I haven't fucked since my last ex," he muttered, sweeping his sexuality under the rug.

"But it wasn't exactly gentle." She couldn't help bunching her shoulders as she receded into herself with newfound disgust.

"I can't believe that it...they got away with this," she said with a low voice that still resonated her shock.

"I can," he admitted, sniffling and wiping his tears away in a rush. She couldn't watch him.

"I knew those things were messed up from the start. Anyway, it's Detroit. You think they're going to give us the nice little blonde bitches?" Frowning, she slowly leaned back, reaching to absently nibble a cracker so he didn't feel as though all the focus was on him.

"But that’s over, you can start getting past it now," she offered with hesitance as she was still used to the snappy behavior he used to resonate until it boiled over like lava.

"Fuck that. I'm getting drunk," he uttered, already having skipped the dinner as he reached to pour himself a glass of the wine, before pointing the bottle nose in her direction in offer.

"Sure," she decided; not much of a drinker, but the occasion seemed fighting enough.

"So, a new car, new wardrobe, food for a lifetime," she mulled over, glancing around his house which was not only pristinely cleaned, but well-decorated, definitely a look one wouldn't expect a hobbit like himself to live in. Then, she glanced to the big gift box.

"What's in there?"

"Dunno," he said, eyes lowered again as he swirled his wine glass before swigging down half in one go. She took one sip from her own.

"My brain's telling me it's a ticking time bomb," he huffed.

"But then I couldn't be its perfect little soldier anymore. Guess I'm scared to find out, no matter what it is."

"You could throw it out,” she mentioned.

"I could," he agreed, but went nowhere with the sentiment.

"Can I open it?" His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but he didn't really see why not.

"Sure. S'just sitting there anyways."

#finally. oh my fuggen #rk900 #detroit: become human #dbh: tina chen #dbh: gavin reed #dbh: rk900

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pebble-xo · 6 years

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Heartbeats (1)

part one; part two; part three;

It all started with a phone call.

“I’ve hit the jackpot!” your best friend exclaimed loudly down the phone.

You laughed brightly, moving the microphone on your earphones closer to your mouth as you headed up the street towards your office. “Good morning to you too Mel.”

Mel had been your best friend since college. The two of you started a week after the beginning of term and immediately bonded as the only two people who didn't know anyone else in the school. After that, the two of you were inseparable, following each other to university and graduating with honours together. You’d made many more friends over the years but Mel had always stayed by your side. She knew how to handle your sometimes crippling anxiety and you could easily manage her perpetual overexcitement. It was a perfect friendship.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, good morning!” she dismissed quickly, no doubt bouncing about in a circle like a hyperactive puppy. “You will never guess what has just happened!”

Rolling your eyes, you paused at a crossing and waited for the lights to turn green. “If I’m never going to guess, why don’t you just tell me before I get into the office?” you reasoned.

Mel took a deep breath, a telltale signal that your best friend was about to launch into her story. “Do you remember Park Chanyeol? The really hot guy that lived across the hall from us at university?”

A small smile turned the corners of your lips up as you remembered the enigmatic man from across the hall. Dark brown hair, wide innocent eyes, cute protruding ears and a towering stature: the Chanyeol you recalled was handsome and cheerful. Last you heard, he had developed an online game and was now running a small gaming company with some of his friends.

The walking man flashed green overhead. “Yeah I remember him,” you replied, crossing the road quickly so you were on your office’s street.

“Well I met him yesterday at a media seminar and we spent the whole evening talking at the bar and …”

“And you ended up in his bed?” you finished.

Your best friend scoffed in mock-disbelief. “What kind of person do you think I am?” she exclaimed in pretend abhorrence.

If you weren’t her best friend, you might have thought that her hurt at your assumption was real, but you knew Mel too well. “My favourite person,” you teased.

“It’s a good thing I love you,” she teased back playfully. “And you’re wrong because I didn’t end up in his bed. Actually I was telling him about my recent housing problem, you know the one where my landlady is a bitch and is kicking me out with barely any notice…”

“I still think if you got yourself a lawyer, you could fight the eviction,” you interrupted to repeat the point you had been trying to make your best friend.

You didn’t need to see her to know Mel was rolling her eyes. “I’m not going to waste my money trying to keep myself in that bitch’s apartment. If she wants me out, that’s fine with me. As it turns out, one of Chanyeol’s business partners is in need a roommate,” she explained enthusiastically.

“I thought you were trying to find your own place?” you asked with a soft frown. One of you had to be the voice of reason and it was unlikely to be Mel. She had the tendency to be a little impulsive.

“It was, but I’m not going to find my dream place in two weeks and Chanyeol’s friend says I can stay for as long as it takes as long as I pay my rent,” she replied before squealing excitedly. “Plus I’ve seen photos of the guy and he’s fucking gorgeous. There’s always the chance we’ll fall in love and I won’t have to move out at all,” she added in pure Mel-like fashion.

It was your turn to roll your eyes, pulling your bag off your shoulder to find your pass as you approached your office building. “Don’t set yourself up for disappointment Mel,” you told her softly, pulling your lanyard out from the bottom of your bag.

“That’s alright for you to say; you can literally feel your soulmate’s heartbeat,” she retorted quickly. “Anyway, I need you to come round tonight and help me pack. I’ll pay you with pizza!”

“You know my weakness,” you answered with a smile, swiping yourself into your building. “I’m at work now so I’ll text you later.”

“Have a productive publishing day,” Mel joked, making kissing noises down the phone until she eventually hung up.

Pulling your earphones out, you wrapped your lanyard around your neck and headed across the foyer towards the elevator. You’d arrived pretty early this morning to get ready for the big publishing meeting you were supposed to sit in on today so there weren’t that many people in the building. Hopefully you had left yourself enough time to make a cup of tea and read through your notes before the meeting started.

Alone in the elevator, you could feel it. The heartbeat Mel had mentioned so enviously. Your soulmate's.

According to urban myth - basically YouTube videos and Twitter threads - those lucky enough were gifted with their soulmate’s heartbeat alongside their own from the age of sixteen. It was supposed to act as a guide, to lead you to the one you were destined to spend your life with. Apparently it is only with the touch of your soulmate that your heartbeats would merge and beat as one.

Honestly the whole thing sounded ludicrous to you. Mel thought it was the epitome of romance and loved that you were destined for someone. You however saw it as a nuisance. When you first felt it on your 16th birthday, you thought you were hallucinating. Your parents almost had you sectioned because they thought you were losing your mind. But when you figured out what the heartbeat actually meant, all that was left to do was wait.

However it wasn’t something that was easy to live with. In the beginning, every touch made you jittery in anticipation, only to have it replaced by disappointment. It was enough to drive you insane. After years of expecting to find your soulmate, you'd all but given up the idea of him, deciding instead to focus on your career.

You found that if you kept yourself busy, you barely even noticed your second heartbeat. Still, by yourself in the quietness of the elevator, it may as well have been pounding in your ears. The rhythm was slow and gentle, like it usually was in the morning. Whoever your soulmate was, he often didn’t get up until 10 or 11am if his heartbeat was anything to go by.

The elevator suddenly came to a halt at your floor, the doors pinging open in a swift motion. Walking out, you tried to shake off the disassociated feeling you felt when you lost yourself in your second heartbeat and instead focused on what you needed to do for the day.

However throughout your long hours in the office, it was always there, lingering in the very back of your mind just peering into your consciousness. The thought that someone out there was your soulmate.

-x-

You couldn’t fight the pleasurable moan slip from your lips as the stringy cheese of your pizza hit your tongue. “Ugh I love pizza so much!” you breathed, closing your eyes for a brief second to appreciate your mouthful.

Mel’s scoff brought you out of your moment of pleasure. “This is why your dates always go so bad. You’re more interested in the food than the men sat across the table from it,” she teased, picking off a piece of pepperoni from her slice of pizza and popping it into her mouth.

“No, my dates always went bad because the food was more interesting than the men. It’s really your fault for setting me up with guys as boring as bricks,” you replied, finishing your first slice of pizza with a big bite.

Reaching across the food, Mel poured out two Cokes into plastic cups, seeing as all of her glasses were already packed. “What did you expect? Good looks and a personality?” she answered with her loud melodious laugh.

“Is it too much to ask?” you retorted, dramatically shrugging your shoulders in pretend-despair.

Unlike Mel, you weren’t too concerned about love and romance and finding the owner of your second heartbeat. Your focus was solely on your career and trying to make a name for yourself within your publishing company. That didn’t leave much time for dating, or finding your soulmate as Mel liked to call the blind dates she forced you to go on.

However the guys she set you up with never had much going on upstairs. All of them had been very handsome, but none could hold an intelligent conversation with you, their brains unable to stretch further than sports or video games. The more dates Mel organised for you, the more annoyed you became with the calibre of men, so you decided to forget about finding the one and do something productive like get ahead at work.

“So are you going to help me move on Saturday or do I have to bribe you with more pizza?” Mel asked, giving you her best puppy dog expression to try and charm you.

As cute as she was though, you had become immune to her charms in university, otherwise neither of you would have graduated. “I’m out of town with my boss this Saturday. But I’ll come over and help you unpack when I get back,” you told her, hiding your face behind your cup. “I’ll even pay for the pizza!”

“Ugh, some friend you are!” she whined, her lips pulled into a sulky pout. “I’m sure Sehun will help me anyway.”

You shook your head, still a little disbelieving of the situation your best friend had found herself in. “I can’t believe you’re moving in with a complete stranger. What if he turns out to be a psychopathic killer?” you exclaimed, making Mel almost choke on her pizza with laughter. “I’m serious Mel! Do you know anything about this Sehun?” Like always, you were the cautious one.

Mel quickly swallowed her mouthful and reached for her phone. “I know he’s really good looking,” she retorted childishly. “Like seriously, the man could easily be a model if he wanted to!” She made a few swipes on her phone and then turned the screen towards you.

It was a photo, posted on what looked like Chanyeol’s instagram, of a man relaxing in the middle of a huge bed, dressed in a white shirt and charcoal trousers, one arm stretched behind his head while the other held his phone up to his face. Your heart stuttered at his handsomeness, his long slender body and styled up dark hair catching you off guard. He was gorgeous, every inch of his image a mirror of perfection.

A little too perfect.

You blinked out of your stupor and focused on your pizza instead. “Handsome men can be serial killers too.”

Mel sighed and collapsed onto her back exasperated. “This is exactly why you are single!” she exclaimed, dramatically wriggling on the floor before sitting up for more pizza. “Sometimes handsome men are just handsome and haven’t murdered someone.”

Sticking your tongue out, you scrunched your face up and finished chewing. “All I’m saying is don’t get ahead of yourself Mel. I know you, and your imagination tends to run off in these crazy scenarios that reality can never live up to,” you reasoned.

Mel frowned cutely. “Don’t spoil this for me!” she whined, scrolling through her phone no doubt in search of more photos of Sehun to show you.

“Just be careful babe,” you replied softly, reaching over to pinch her cheek.

-x-

“I’ll write up my notes and have them on your desk first thing Monday morning Mr Choi,” you told your boss through the phone, staring out of your taxi’s window at the blur of tall apartment buildings speeding past. Having just got back from your short business trip, you were on your way to Mel’s new apartment to help her unpack and settle in.

Your boss laughed deeply. “I don’t know what I would do without,” he complimented. “Thank you for everything today. Enjoy the rest of your weekend.”

“You too sir,” you added politely, hanging up just as your taxi slowed to stop.

Leaning forward, you checked the price on the meter and took out a crisp note to pay for your fare. “Keep the change,” you told the driver, feeling bad for being so rude on the phone for the entire journey. Collecting your things, you shot the driver a brief smile and then climbed out of the taxi, pulling up your conversation with Mel on your phone to make sure you buzzed the right apartment.

You pressed the button for 8B and swung back on your heels, waiting for Mel’s loud voice to no doubt blast through the intercom. However the door just clicked open for you. “Maybe the intercom is broken,” you muttered to yourself, pushing the door wide and stepping inside. From there, Mel’s apartment was easy to find - a fast elevator ride and a turn of a corner away.

Pushing the doorbell, you flipped your hair out of your face and tapped your feet on the shiny stone floor. Knowing what a ball of energy Mel was when she was excited, she was probably going to come charging out the door and knock the air right out of your lungs.

But it wasn’t Mel that answered.

A tall, devastatingly handsome man swung the door open, his dark hair messy and styled up. His chocolate eyes widened slightly as they ran the length of your body and made you shudder, like a chilling breeze had just blown straight through you. He pulled his bottom lip between his white teeth and gave you a look that made both your heartbeats skip. You immediately recognised him from the number of photos Mel had shown you. This was Oh Sehun.

His brow knotted together in a hard frown. “You’re not the pizza delivery man?” he questioned, his eyes once again trailing your body, this time in search of any pizza you might be concealing.

“No, sorry,” you answered awkwardly, tucking your hair behind your ears.

“That’s a shame!” he mumbled quietly, giving you one last look before he moved to close the door.

“Actually,” you started quickly, stepping closer. “I’m here to see Mel.” You introduced yourself and held out your hand for him to shake, watching his eyebrows lift in surprise at your name.

Sehun pulled his thin lips into a pout, leaning against the doorframe with his arms folded across his broad chest. “The way Chanyeol described you, I thought you’d be...,” he trailed off, leaving the unsaid words hanging in the air.

You balked in disbelief, your outstretched hand falling limply back to your side. Was this guy for real? “Sorry to disappoint,” you snapped. You didn’t care how handsome this guy was, nothing could excuse his rudeness. “Is Mel here?”

There was a flash of something in his expression but it disappeared in the blink of an eye. Was it guilt? “Meg!” he called over his shoulder.

You couldn’t help the stunned look on your face. In all your years, you had never met anyone as rude and arrogant as Sehun. “Her name is Mel,” you told him sourly, watching the smirk on his pretty lips falter for a moment.

“Oh right,” he replied nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders as he stepped back to let you pass through the door.

Making a conscious effort not to touch him, you walked through the threshold, slipping out of your shoes and leaving them neatly before walking down the short corridor that opened up onto a huge living room.

“You made it!” Mel squealed, her hair dishevelled and pulled up into a high ponytail. She ran across the room, wrapping you in a tight hug.

Sehun strutted past you with his hands buried in the pockets of his tracksuit trousers and a permanent smirk fixed to his flushed lips. “Try to keep the screaming down,” he remarked grumpily, leaving the room from the direction Mel had come from.

Slightly stunned by Sehun’s arrogant departure, you shook off his rudeness and pulled a bottle of Mel’s favourite champagne out of your bag. “I bought bubbles!” you announced proudly, watching your best friend’s eyes light up excitedly.

“Oh my gosh! I haven’t unpacked my wine glasses yet,” she exclaimed dramatically, quickly darting into the kitchen to start rummaging through boxes. “Can you believe Sehun doesn’t have any wine glasses? Like what does he drink his wine from? A tumbler?!”

“That’s against nature,” you played along, knowing how defensive Mel got about tableware. She was the type of girl who had a certain glass for every drink, and hated it when people used the incorrect glassware. Once you drank wine out of a gin glass and she lost it. You learnt quickly that it was best to just let her pour the drinks.

While Mel fished out her wine glasses, you had a nose around the apartment. It was a huge open-plan living room - high ceilings, clean white walls, charcoal grey furniture - with the kitchen separated by a long marble breakfast bar. There was a huge TV attached to the wall and an even bigger sound and gaming system underneath, typical of a bachelor pad.

However there were added details to the decor that surprised you.: like the four framed photos of the same set of trees, each different to represent the four seasons; or the sweet-scented candles dotted on the surfaces. Definitely not a feature in most bachelor pads. Plus it was clean and tidy - another rarity. Maybe Sehun wasn’t as bad as you first thought.

“This place is huge!” you murmured, running your hand along the soft blanket thrown over the back of one of the sofas.

Mel appeared behind the breakfast bar, triumphantly holding two wine glasses in her hands. “Isn’t it amazing?” she exclaimed, her dark eyes bright with excitement. “And you should see the size of my bedroom. You could probably fit my last apartment in it!”

Laughing lightly at her dramatics, you leaned across the breakfast bar with the bottle of bubbles. “Well pour me a glass and give me the tour!”

Like a pro, Mel popped the cork of the champagne and poured out two glasses, handing one to you across the breakfast bar before holding hers up in the air for a toast. “To fresh starts!” she exclaimed, beaming from ear to ear with the widest smile.

“To new beginnings!” you added, clinking your glass with hers.

While Mel walked you through the rest of the apartment, you quietly sipped your champagne and took in the huge spaces. Off from the living room was a long corridor that Sehun had earlier disappeared down, which led to the laundry room and the bathroom with a jacuzzi-sized bathtub. Immediately you and Mel climbed in and tested it out, stretching out fully and imagining the massage jets blasting water at you until you were completely relaxed. However it was the only bathroom in the apartment so Mel and Sehun would be sharing, something Mel had already worked up a hundred scenarios about.

“Towels only magically fall down in the movies,” you argued, taking a long sip of your champagne as Mel took you to the end of the corridor.

“It could happen!” she exclaimed, giving you a cheeky wink. “Oh yeah, so this is my bedroom and the door behind you leads to Sehun’s.”

You looked over your shoulder and scowled at the door, before turning back to Mel. “I guess we should start the unpacking,” you announced, letting her lead the way into her new bedroom. The room, like the rest of the apartment was huge, with the only piece of furniture being the queen size bed in the middle of the room. Everything else was bare, the white walls featuring no artwork or decor.

As soon as you stepped inside, you almost tripped over a stack of boxes labelled bedroom. “Bloody hell Mel!” you exclaimed, taking the whole room in. There were boxes everywhere, covering practically every inch of the floor. “How do you have so much stuff?”

“Why are you acting so shocked?” Mel countered, dancing her way through the stacks of boxes all the while filling her glass up with champagne. “You know I’m a sentimental hoarder!”

You sighed heavily, your shoulders tensing up as you took in the enormity of the task. “I think we need to talk about getting you some professional help,” you teased, moving to the first box and opening it up.

One hour - and an empty bottle of champagne - later, you could see a bit more of the floor, now that half of Mel’s clothes were hanging up all organised in her built-in wardrobe. However the champagne had gone straight through you, making you jump to your feet. “I need the toilet,” you announced, hurrying out of Mel’s bedroom and up the corridor to the bathroom.

As you reached for the handle, the door peeled back, filling you with sour dread as it revealed the handsome smirk of Oh Sehun. Once again, his chocolate stare rolled up and down your body, leaving you feeling exposed. “Ah you’re still here!” he drawled, wrapping the towel he was using to dry his damp hair across his shoulders. Thankfully he was still clothed.

“It would appear so,” you replied unenthusiastically, rolling your eyes. You tried to move past him but he leaned his long body against the doorframe, blocking your way.

He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and cocked his head to the side, looking at you like you were some sort of puzzle to solve. “You know, I think Chanyeol was wrong about you,” he continued, releasing his lip and running a small tongue across it.

Seriously what was this guy’s problem? “I’ll try to not lose sleep over it,” you replied, trying to sound completely uninterested, when inside your blood was boiling. “Could you move please?” you added, nodding your head for the bathroom.

Eventually he moved, only after giving you another long look as he sauntered past you. No doubt he was probably still looking, arrogantly trying to get the full view of you.

Huffing angrily, you stalked into the bathroom and slammed the door behind you, placing both hands on the edge of the basin while you stared at yourself in the mirror. You didn’t consider yourself as drop dead gorgeous but you weren’t ugly either. In fact you didn’t think your looks were anything to comment on.

But there was something about the arrogant Oh Sehun that got right under your skin and made your whole body go crazy. “Ugh I hate him!” you decided, turning away from the mirror and banishing the unsavoury thoughts of your best friend’s roommate from your mind.

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