#they overstepped a lot of boundaries with me when I did associate with them and I was always put in such a weird position

[posts-from-employee-427]

(Important Pinned Post)

(Hey so uh. Hi yes hello. Stanley Admin here. I don't like doing serious posts but some things have been bothering me for a while so.

I wanna start by saying this is all /lh. It's just a stupid taspblog and it's not really that serious, I'm not mad at anyone, I'm just realizing I really need to be more reaffirming on some overstepped boundaries.

I'm just gonna like. Bullet point these cuz idk what I'm doing.

I'm going to try to make a small summary of important events for people who showed up late. Try. I'm not promising anything because writing summaries tends to be very draining for me but I know it's a lot at this point. That being said please don't ask for summaries of large events in my inbox, especially of they're from a while ago. I can't get to all of them and some of them I've already summarized in the past. I've made it clear in the past that while I understand the importance of summaries at this point please don't expect them because it is exaughsting to try and create a comprehensive post of everything important from those events.

Also with asks. Ok how do I word this one. So obviously we handle a lot of sensitive subjects on here and all that. And I love angst! It's a great tool in the writers box. But if you're sending an ask that's... kind of clearly not in character agnst an more just venting, please stop that. I've had several people do this. And some have stopped, but some still do it. I'm sorry. I'm just going through a lot as well and don't know how to also help someone else or even respond to it. especially when it's several people. In character is fine!! In character makes sense and is cool. But when it's like, ok this is out of character, idk how to respond to that. Sorry.

And on characters and lore I love the amount of anon blogs that have popped up! I really do!! But. Ok story time. Once upon a time I was clarifying how anons act in the parable. I clarified that they aren't actually part of the parable, but rather outside of it and capable of interacting or changing things by interacting with Stanley. I tried to be rather insistent on this for some time, but as more people ignored it I kinda just. Gave up. The reason I was trying to insist on this is because I felt like having anons in the parable may like. Disrupt Stanley's actions. Like recently!! When Stanley reset and it effected people who it technically shouldn't have effected. It adds a weird layer of Stanley's actions effecting people who realistically shouldn't be effected by a reset.

Obviously there's exceptions. Like 432 who is obviously in the parable cuz. Yeah. ABPA you could even maybe make a case for, but how the character is handled it really works out. He's part of Stanley's universe though not part of the parable. His own thing interacting with Stanley. Like being stuck in a constant time loop in a void and getting a postcard from your buddy out kareoking saying wish you were here. It works.

Actually let's talk about the mintcident real quick. The mintcident is a great example of bending the rules but still working. It didn't break really any previous lore despite interacting with the parable. It was it's own contained thing that even cleaned itself up with a reset. Everyone was on board and it opened up the gates for me and Naradmin to do literally whatever the hell we wanted with a hard reset, and it's how we even got human narry. It was one of the first major actual plots we did beyond just hijinks. The only thing before that was when Stanley talked, which happened on the same day. It drew back on the carrot association talking about if Stanley was sacrificed to a cult what would happen, and worked itself really well. Mint and Gnarly if you're reading this you handled this greatly and it's why the mintcident is so important to this blog now. I remember they even apologized in case it messed with a prior plan (it didn't lmao).

The point is there can absolutely be exceptions to the rules but. This exceptions aren't often because. It usually doesn't work out. I'm glad when it does! It's always fun to see peoples like and how they interact, but when it gets in the way of the pre set rules I made to not cause any trouble, it gets a little difficult. Yeah.

That's all I can think of right now. This is getting pinned cuz it's kind of important, and as we're entering a new setting I wanna just. Re establish some boundaries. So things run more smoothly and it's less stressful for me. Again I'm not mad I just wanted to bring this up cuz some of this has been really stressing me out and I tried to type this all as delicately as possible. I'm really hoping any of this actually makes sense. Obviously this is all my own stuff and I can't speak for I Naradmin agrees with these boundaries or if they're even reasonable, I may be way out of line asking for this and yeah sorry. Idk how to make these kinds of posts. Not sure what this will look like for people moving forward, I don't have a good answer for solving these problems, but I should probably acknowledge them anyway. Sorry for the long ass post. I'm gonna go drink some lemonade and answer some asks in a bit.)

#not employee 427 #(please read.)

[letstrywritingmaybe]

This is getting too long and wordy so I’m gonna hide my thoughts under the cut but I’m talking about the most recently uploaded CoAi fic on ao3

The most recently uploaded CoAi fic on ao3 is making me feel a type of way and idk if it’s good or bad… like cool that the author is really a canon shipper? And was able to write for a ship that isn’t one they normally ship (in this case it’s almost the opposite considering we still have ship wars even though it’s 2023 people!)

I was very wary when I decided to take the plunge and read it cause I’ve been burned before and it pissed me off, but I did it to myself so I didn’t leave hateful comments cause again we are in charge of our own fandom experiences. No one forced me to read anything.

Anyways, it wasn’t awful? Like I really expected a lot of bashing towards my queen, but there wasn’t really… it was tagged correctly too like yeah definitely felt the ooc, but like it wasn’t terrible… idk I just don’t know what to make of it. Do I comment??? See this is why I like to keep my fangirling and writing separate, cause it was so much easier just being a reader and not have to deal with also being a fellow writer.

Ugh, idk man, I’m just confused. Cause on the one hand I did not like it enough to comment and I don’t force myself to when I didn’t vibe with it, but on the other I am just so fascinated! Like who are you? And why are you low key in my head?

Cause listen, I have debated with myself back and forth over whether or not to write the canon ship break up album fic (aka red cause that is a breakup album to the max which is why I don’t associate it with CoAi), and obviously I would tag the canon ship and make it clear that I am a CoAi shipper and yeah I would also post it anonymously but solely because I don’t want anything to do with the canon ship to show up on my writing profile. I’m not a multishipper and even if I was it certainly would never include the canon ship, the longer it drags on the more annoyed I get with them. So now that I see someone actually doing basically what I would’ve done but flipped, I’m like… idk man.

It feels weird, but I’m pro self indulgent writing and I know sometimes there are stories you want to tell even if it doesn’t fit your normal narrative. Like you guys will not believe how much I’ve had to push away all the scenes in the red album fic cause I can see it so vividly in my mind and I have it all plotted out in chronological order, literally it would be so easy to write for me. But I don’t do it and this is exactly why!

Like is this overstepping a boundary? I mean it’s weird right? But also who am I to stop someone from writing their story that they felt they had to get out? So then is it really okay for me to do so too… but this is one single fic. Mine would be a collection of 29 (31 if I include eyes open and safe and sound but the original plan did not have those, cause I think hunger games when I hear them) song fics. If I’m feeling weird over one fic from a canon shipper, I can only imagine how weirded out they would feel about me posting a 29 (31?) chaptered fic with the big disclaimer that hey, I’m a CoAi shipper who’s just here again and again.

Look I preach basic fandom etiquette, ship and let ship, stay in your lane. The two most important rules, besides the whole not being a dick rule that everyone should just follow as a general guide in life. Would I be staying in my lane if I did write the red album fic the way I envisioned? Is this why I’m feeling conflicted over this anonymous canon shipper posting their fic? Idk, and there really isn’t a right answer. But it does make me want to reach out and pick their brain, like what courage must you have to do this and to care enough about this story that you had to put out. I applaud you for that, and I’m glad you did it. Cause again I’m all about self indulgent writing, but didn’t it feel awful to write this too?

Cause the big difference between this fic and the one I want to write is that this canon shipper gave CoAi a happy ending. I am not so gracious, red is the ultimate breakup album to me so it will not end well for the canon ship, the last song is literally All Too Well ten minutes version, come on. There’s no way this ends well if this is the song for the last chapter.

But it’s not like I can tag it CoAi when it literally would have almost nothing to do with them. It’s a very Ran centric fic and all about her woes with her doomed romance with her childhood sweetheart. I hate when people tag multiple ships, like yeah I get it cause they’re mentioned and it does talk about them, but I’m not a multi shipper and I strictly read fics for my ship. Specifically ones that end well for them, so I really don’t like clicking onto a fic only to find that my ship doesn’t end up together or worse, the canon ship stays canon.

Again though, it’s my own preference and I don’t go around making it the author’s problem cause it’s their fic. I could’ve clicked out at any point, there’s no need to leave nasty comments or talk shit. Clearly it wasn’t written for me, I can’t appreciate it, I’m not the target audience.

Okay yeah I think I’m leaning towards staying put and not writing my fic. I’ve no doubt I could write it just fine, but who is this for? Me? Cause I don’t even want it since I get so triggered by the canon ship now a days. Case in point look at how long this rant got. Really who would even want to read this fic? One person if I’m lucky, so it’s not worth it. Granted I’ve never cared and still don’t care about who reads my fics. I write primarily for myself, and if just the thought of possibly writing it is stressing me out this much then I should just keep it buried. But it’s always in the back of my mind, just pestering me. Ugh.

Phew okay that was so much projecting, and I don’t even feel any better. This was just a lot of rambling and for basically nothing cause I’ve resolved nothing. Anyways, whoever you are canon shipper author, I’m happy for you. It really is dope that you decided to tell this story even though it’s not your ship. Okay time for sleep now

#cynply rambling #it’s late and I’m going through a crisis as per usual. what’s new #I’m still feeling a type of way. but I think it really is the trigger of the canon ship #I just immediately associate it with negative energy when I see it #and yeah I had my problems with the fic too which is why I won’t comment but hey writing is hard #I have trouble for my ship that is always on my mind. I can’t imagine having to write for a notp and make it good #especially making it end well for them. like I could never for the canon ship #I don’t believe in unhappy endings for my ship

[critical-goat]

Headcanons on where the Obey Me! pact marks would be located if the locations were based on chakras. I spent way too many hours looking into this, as I never imagined just how.... expansive chakras are. (take a shot for every time I say chakra(s), pact, or mark. Please do not actually ok, even individually all are said so many times)

no spoilers or other warnings

what are chakras, though?

The practice of Chakras started in Hindu religion and is a Sanskrit term meaning wheel or mystical circle.

Chakras are bundles of energy that run throughout the body. Traditionally, there are 7 layers of chakras: physical, two emotional, two mental, and two spiritual layers.

I’m focusing on the physical layer (though I don’t doubt that they could possibly imprint their pact on less tangible parts of you if they wanted) for simplicity sake and to avoid making this more religious than it needs to be. Admittedly, I already feel like I’m overstepping boundaries.

.

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ROOT CHAKRA (Belphegor + Beelzebub)

The chakra itself is located at the base of the spine between the anus and genitals (don’t worry, we’re not placing the pact here) and represented by the color red.

If this is your most prominent chakra, food and sleep are probably important factors of your life, as the Root is connected with survival as well as feelings of security and emotional satisfaction.

A healthy Root Chakra provides a grounding feeling and feelings of safety while an imbalanced Root leaves feelings of insecurity and restlessness.

Despite often being described as the First Chakra (Mammon is jealous), the Root is considered to have the lowest frequency and slowest spinning wheel, as it more than the others is attributed to physical and vital needs and fulfillment

The pact marks show up on MCs pelvis, just below their waistline and are side by side

When Beel’s was the only pact of the two, rather than lining up in the same invisible line that the others seemed to follow, it leaned to the side, looking unbalanced and incomplete. The piece becomes whole once Belphie’s mark forms next to his twins.

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SECOND CHAKRA (Asmodeus)

This chakra is located in the kidneys, bladder, and internal reproductive workings and is represented by the color orange.

The source of creative impulse; those with the second chakra as their dominant are often seekers of pleasure and satisfaction in their day to day life.

Balanced, this chakra channels commitment and creativity, while an unbalanced Second chakra causes a lack of boundaries and empathetic emotions.

Asmo’s pact mark shows up on MC’s lower back, just above their butt (YES, this man tramp stamped you, would you expect any less from him) and is the only of the Brother’s marks that doesn’t appear on MC’s front.

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NAVEL CHAKRA (Mammon)

Located at the navel and represented by the color yellow.

The center of personal power and commitment; those with a dominant Navel chakra are people of action, with a great desire to achieve.

Balanced, this chakra channels inner balance and inspiration. When imbalanced, it will manifest feelings of anger, greed, shame, and/or despair.

Mammon’s own Navel may well be imbalanced as he seems to better fit the imbalanced traits than the balanced, but his control over his powers, general personality, and his devotion to MC make him more than worthy to be associated with this chakra.

Mammon placed his pact smack dab in the middle of MC’s stomach to keep a certain brothers (coughAsmocough) pact mark from having a place to distract from his own claim (jokes on him, Asmo loves butts so its a win-win, really). While his pact doesn’t stray from the line the pacts align themselves to, it does lean slightly towards the side MC’s heart is on.

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HEART CHAKRA (Leviathan)

Located in the middle of the chest and represented by the color green (green with envy HAH).

Those with dominant energy in the Heart desire to create.

Balanced, it manifests compassion and love; signs the Heart chakra is unbalanced includes grief, attachment, fear of rejection, and/or heartlessness.

I did not run out of chakra placements. Levi’s placement here is very deliberate. However, he is yet another who’s own chakra seems to be imbalanced. His compassion is very prominent is Season 2 and even when he is more withdrawn, you can still tell just how much he cares about the others. (I also note that the Heavenly Virtue directly correlated to envy is kindness).

Levi’s mark appears on MC’s sternum right in the valley of their chest (much to his embarrassment) and leans to the side opposite of their heart (not because he likes them than the others, but more because he already feels embarrassingly close to the most important part of them).

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THROAT CHAKRA (Satan, Diavolo)

Located on the throat and represented by a light blue color.

The center for speaking and hearing truth.

A balanced Throat manifests inspiration through self expression and learning and teaching (teaching being apart from the others); unbalanced causes weakness in expression, vocalization issues, insecurity, and fear of others opinions and judgements.

While Satan’s pact appears directly upon the throat as a bold declaration of his connection to MC, Diavolo’s would show up on the back of the neck further down towards the shoulders.

Diavolo might not show it, but he does respect people’s privacy and would prefer to allow MC to choose whether or not they publicly bear the seal of their pact. Satan’s mark slopes towards the side of MC’s dominant hand.

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THIRD EYE CHAKRA (Lucifer)

Located between the eyebrows and represented by indigo.

Center of the brain as well as cognitive and high functions; those with dominant energy in their Third Eye easily concentrate on their tasks and are a determined lot.

A balanced chakra gives way to a clearer intuition and clairyvoyance while an unbalanced Third Eye can cause confusion, depression, and over intellecualization.

I set this as Lucifer’s rather than Satan’s both because he already has the physical representation in his own demon form, but also because he more than the 4th born tend to forget that others have limits and that every infraction is not a ploy against him or an attempt to piss him off, correlating to the over intellecualization of an imbalanced Third Eye. He makes up the last of the unbalanced chakra squad, but also seems to have a good mix of the balanced traits as well.

His mark, rather than appearing between MC’s eyebrows, the top of his pact begins at their hairline and ends just before it reaches their eyebrows.

#Obey Me! Headcanons #Obey Me! Lucifer #Obey Me! Diavolo #Obey Me! Mammon #Obey Me! Leviathan #Obey Me! Satan #Obey Me! Asmodeus #Obey Me! Beelzebub #Obey Me! Belphegor #Pact Mark Headcanons #let's not dwell on the fact Solomon has 72 pacts #i already had issues rearranging the 4 that appear on the pelvis #it took hours of thought before i found spots i was happy with for those #Obey Me!

[illfoandillfie]

I don’t know if you’re still doing asks for the advent calendar. But just wondering if you could do a Ben x Reader x Present!Roger, where Ben and reader are the subs for Rog and he is hard!dom and they’re getting punished but at the end it’s super fluffy with my fav poly relationship. Idk if this makes since and I hope you could be comfortable with writing this! Btw love your writing! ❤️❤️

Oh i absolutely love this prompt and honestly i can’t think of a better way to end this thing than with a rog x ben threesome!!

Warnings: smut, spanking, edging/orgasm denial, sir kink, dom! rog, sub! ben, sub! reader, collars, a tiny bit of hair pulling, overstimulation, minor mentions of oral sex (m and f receiving), there’s also a bit where rog steps on reader, also its like 4k lmao

Blurb Advent: Day 25

It had been natural to let Roger take the lead, so to speak, in your relationship. Even in the early days, there’d never really been a question about you submitting to Roger. For one thing, you trended towards submissive anyway but something about Roger, the way he carried himself, automatically made you want to kneel before him. Age probably had something to do with it too. There was a perceived expertise because he was older (and as he frequently joked, wiser too), that had you agreeing to call him Sir and to follow his instructions, even within the first few weeks of getting together. Normally you’d wait a while before jumping into anything especially kinky with someone new, and to be fair he hadn’t rushed into bringing out the harder stuff, but it was almost shameful how fast you’d let him toy with you, agreeing to wear a collar to symbolise your submission. You’d well and truly established your dom/sub relationship before you’d agreed to consider each other boyfriend and girlfriend, (His age may have been a hinderance there, the word boyfriend not often associated with someone like him) so when Ben first met you, he assumed something entirely different. Roger had invited him around for dinner, with the added intention of being able to talk drums for as long as they wanted. Ben had shook your hand and made a comment that implied he thought you were Roger’s niece or grand daughter or something along those lines and before you’d been able to correct him he was caught up in a discussion with Roger about one of the songs he had to play in the movie. You left them too it, shrugging Ben’s assumption off. If you were going to date a man in his seventies then you had to be prepared for people to think you were connected by blood or else that you were in it for the money. Neither was true but it’s what people would think and there was no reason to get upset about it. Ben’s impression was re-evaluated later that day when he’d wandered away from the drum kit to find Roger and walked in on him giving you a quick edge. As soon as he realised Ben was there Roger apologised.

“Oh, that’s um, no, uh, no need for that,” Ben stuttered out, “I just thought, but, uh, I was obviously wrong,”

“Family or sugar baby?” Roger asked curiously.

“Family. Then sugar baby when I saw your hand up her skirt.” Ben seemed to realise what he’d said, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

“She’s my girlfriend actually,” Roger turned his head to smile at you, “I would have said so but we’ve really only just started telling people so it kind of slipped my mind that I could,”

“No worries, um, I’ll leave you to it and just go try out that bit on the drums again.” Ben turned and walked back down the hallway as quickly as he could, Roger chuckling softly as he kissed the top of your head.

“How would you feel if I invited Ben to have sex with us?” he asked suddenly.

“What?”

“I’m not saying I definitely will but…he’s been looking at you a lot this afternoon. I figured he was probably trying to work out who you were to me but if he assumed family he might have been checking you out.”

“You think?” you asked, trying to keep your tone level. Ben was fit and you wouldn’t have minded him making a pass at you, even if you’d had to turn him down.

“I’ll keep an eye on him, see if I can work it out, but would you be okay with that? If he joined us?”

“That sounds kind of fun,”

“Alright then, I’ll feel him out and see if I can’t convince him to stay the night.”

 Over the course of the afternoon and evening Roger used every trick in his book to determine Ben’s attraction to you, and if he’d be interested in a threeway, steadily getting less and less subtle. By the time dinner had been eaten just about all delicacy was out the window.

“Look, sorry again about earlier,” Roger said, passing Ben a scotch and soda, “I’ve been edging Y/N a bit today because I’m planning on fucking her rotten tonight and I want her dripping wet and ready to beg for it,”

You weren’t sure whether you or Ben was more embarrassed by that but Roger didn’t seem to notice.

“Not that I really need too because she’s got, well let’s call it a very healthy sex drive. Edging her keeps her in her place and makes sure she knows I’m the one who controls if and when she gets an orgasm, but honestly she’s ready to go whenever I ask. I could tell her to strip right now and she would.”

“Is that right?” Ben said despite himself. His eyes darted about the room, not knowing where to look, but his tone was curious.

“She’s very obedient. If you wanted I could tell her to suck you off and it would take literally two seconds for her to be on her knees.”

Ben audibly gulped, his face beyond pink.

“Should I tell her to do that Ben?”

“Umm,”

“I think she’d like it if you joined us tonight. She does think you’re fit.”

“J-joi-join you?”

“We can set up one of the spare rooms for you if you want to stay. I might even see about lending her to you for the night.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, hypothetically, if you did stay, we’d share her for a bit, make up for all those edges I gave her. Then afterwards you could take her off to another bed and have her as many times as you wanted while I got a good nights sleep. Twice this week she’s wanted me in the middle of the night, it’d be nice to let someone else deal with her instead. Of course, there would be a few ground rules but they’re easy enough.”

“Like what?”

“Oh well, you can take her raw if you like but we’d prefer you not to finish in her cunt. Anywhere else is fine though. Obviously safewords are a must and limits have to be respected, hers, yours and mine. And you do need to understand that I’m in charge. She submits to me, she calls me Sir and she wears a collar for me. We both enjoy it, we both get off on it, and we expect anyone who joins us to understand that.”

“I understand,” Ben nodded.

“Does that mean you want to stay?”

“Yes.”

Roger had grinned and turned to you, “Well, why don’t you give our guest a proper welcome.”

 Ben fit in better than you might have assumed he would. It had been natural for you to submit and apparently Ben felt the same. That first night he constantly looked to Roger for guidance and permission, not wanting to overstep any boundaries or do something that would bring the night to an end. As you’d sucked Ben’s cock Roger had commanded you both, telling you when to deepthroat him and when to come up for air, telling him to grab your hair or push you down further. After that he’d suggested Ben repay you and walked him through edging you with just his fingers, teaching him the signs of your impending orgasm so he could stop it at the last second. And when you did finally make it to the bedroom, he’d told you both how to position yourselves, giving instructions and making demands as you’d been filled by both of them. Ben joined you in calling Roger Sir, giving up control as fully as you did. When Roger suggested edging Ben himself, Ben didn’t object. He dropped his eyes and bit his lip and whined prettily as Roger stroked his cock carefully, always stopping short. Afterwards he’d been rewarded, as Roger had promised he would be, with you as company in his bed. Mostly you’d stayed up talking, Ben curiously asking questions about your relationship with Roger and how it had come about. He was most intrigued by the dominant and submissive dynamics, how it worked and how you’d felt adding an extra person to it. Of course, you’d made sure it wasn’t all talk. Ben was hot and Roger expected him to fuck you so there was no harm in it. Besides, you knew Roger would call you a good girl if you were obedient and took Ben however he wanted. Ben seemed to like that aspect of your reasoning too. He didn’t want to disappoint Roger by not using you and the chance of being called a good boy for it was motivation enough.

 You’d expected it to be a one night thing but a couple of weeks later Roger had extended Ben another invitation to dinner. Things went in much the same direction, only Ben had fallen asleep in the bed you shared with Roger rather than taking a spare for himself and the next morning had offered a repeat performance of the night before. It was the same the next time Ben came for dinner and the time after that. On the sixth time you all gave up the pretext of dinner. Ben arrived earlier in the afternoon and Roger greeted him with the order to strip, which he did without question. The next morning Roger, pleased with Ben, made a suggestion that it become more official, and offered him a collar identical to yours.

“You can say no, of course,”

Ben hadn’t even hesitated before he picked up the collar and fitted it around his throat. You’d helped him with the clasp at a look from Roger who’d then ordered you both to suck him off. From then on it became a much more regular thing. For the most part both you and Ben would submit to Roger, gradually showing Ben harder things like spankings and restraints and all the fun stuff. Sometimes Roger would just sit back and watch Ben have his way with you and sometimes he’d disappear with Ben while you were busy or not in the mood. When Roger was called overseas unexpectedly Ben stayed with you. Roger asked for photos and videos and you delighted in sending him pictures of hickeys and scratches you gave each other as well as videos of each of you edging or Ben’s cock sliding in and out of your cunt, your moans in the background. Of course, the shifts in your sexual relationships also impacted your non-sexual relationships. Ben was important to you and Roger. He wasn’t just someone you hooked up with, he was part of things. When you redecorated the kitchen, Ben helped pick out the colours and when Roger wanted someone to listen to the first demo of a new song he’d written, Ben was there to give feedback. He was an extra shoulder to lean on, an extra pair of hands when there was chores to be done, and extra person to spend time with. But even with all the changes, your sexual dynamic remained the same. Roger was in charge. And that was how he liked it. Especially when he got to punish one or both of you.

Not that his punishments were ever really punishments. Once he’d come home from a weekend trip, expecting a clean house only to find the kitchen covered in rubbish and dirty dishes while you and Ben giggled away under the covers upstairs. He’d got very stern and made you both write lines. I will complete my chores before I have sex one hundred times each. But for the most part his punishments were actually fun, if a little painful. Spanking and orgasm denial and bondage, things that you could get off on, and always for small misdemeanours like poking your tongue out at him or going over an edge before you had permission. Because you and Ben enjoyed giving up control so much, your slight bratty tendencies generally just signalled a desire to be pushed or for something a little harder than what he was giving you. When one of you acted out without involving the other he’d let them help with the punishment, giving you both an outlet for any of your slightly more dominant inclinations. But more often than not you’d wind up being punished together.

On one such occasion, you and Ben had started teasingly referring to Roger as Mr Softie within his hearing after he’d dripped ice cream on his shirt. He’d smiled and laughed along but that evening he’d got back at you, using your collars to chain you to the desk in his office, your hands bound in cuffs in front of you. For a while he left you there, just out of reach of each other, wondering what he had in store. The silence was broken every so often by one of you making a quiet suggestion as to what he might do to you or wondering when he’d return, the anticipation building with each passing minute. Your heart pounded in your chest but you only grew wetter as you were forced to wait and Ben seemed to be in a similar predicament, his pants getting steadily tighter. Finally, Roger returned, ignoring you as he placed a paddle and a vibrator down on the desk you were tied to. Without acknowledging you he unclasped Ben’s collar, giving it a tug to make Ben crawl toward the couch set up at the other end of the room.

“Sir?” Ben asked as he reached the couch, looking up at Roger from his place on the floor.

“Up on the couch. Face down. Now.”

Ben jumped to follow the direction, settling with his face pressed against one cushion, his knees resting on the other, and his hips as high in the air as he could comfortably manage.

“Right,” Roger said, turning back to the desk and continuing to ignore you, “It seems you need to be taught a lesson about respect. And I think the fastest way to teach you is to spank your arse raw. Maybe a few days of not being able to sit down will be a strong enough reminder that I own you and you will respect me.” As he talked, Roger retrieved the paddle and tapped it against his hand, just loud enough that Ben could hear, his whimpers rising as he waited for the first strike. You watched as Roger stalked towards Ben, raised his arm and brought it down hard on Ben’s arse, the shocked cry that escaped Ben almost enough to have you whining yourself. Roger didn’t pause, just lay three or four hits on Ben, each one hard enough that Ben tried to wriggle away and the sound cut through the mostly quiet room. Suddenly Roger reached for Ben’s cock, stroking his already hard member before laying another few spanks on him. Ben made a mixture of sounds, some of pain and some of pleasure but all of them egged Roger on as he edged Ben and turned his arse a dappled purple wherever the paddle struck.

“How does that feel slut? Does it hurt?” Roger’s tone shifted to one of mock whining and back in a matter of seconds, “that whore’s going to be in for it too since it was her idea to disrespect me.”

Ben howled as another few spanks hit him, tears getting lost in the cushion of the couch, but you could see how his hips jolted with every light touch to his dick and how he twitched when Roger retracted his hand.

You’d lost count of how many edges and spanks Ben had received by the time Roger hooked two fingers into the collar, using his grip to pull Ben up higher, “Do you think you’ve learnt your lesson or should I keep teaching you?”

Ben shook his head, eyes still watery and voice more of a sob, “no more, please, I understand,”

“I’m very happy to hear that. Do you think you should be allowed to cum now?”

“Yes please Sir,”

“Yeah? You think I should stop being mean and wank you off already?”

Ben nodded.

“Okay then Benny. But only if she manages to hold out.”

Ben whimpered but nodded, falling to his side.

Roger gently stroked his fingers through Ben’s with a few quiet words of praise before he turned to you. Just like with Ben, Roger unchained you and then made you crawl to the couch. It was awkward with your arms bound but you didn’t dare sit up straighter to walk on your knees, that would only leader to a harder punishment. When you reached the couch Roger stopped you, telling you to turn around and get into the same position Ben had been in, your face against the carpet and your arse in the air. The only difference was that you remained on the floor, your arse facing Ben. The first spank took you by surprise. You’d been so concerned with your position and wondering how closely Ben was watching that you’d forgotten what was coming. It was followed by another three in rapid fire, the paddle thwacking you with such force that you jolted forward each time.

“You’re in trouble Benny,” Roger said, bending slightly to drag his fingers along your cunt, “She’s already soaked. Don’t know she’ll last.”

You whined and squirmed as his fingers traced over you and then yelled when he hit you again. There was no pattern to his punishment, try as you might to find one. He gave you two hits and then pressed his fingers into you, fucking you with them for a moment, and then another five hits, his fingertips lightly rubbing your clit, another two spanks, a spank to your cunt, another three to your arse, and then his fingers again. But there was no way to tell how many spanks you’d endure before he edged you or even how he’d touch you, whether he’d twist his fingers inside you or circle your clit.

“Finger her for me,” Roger said and you heard Ben wince as he stood and knelt behind you. You heard Roger walk away as Ben sank his fingers into you. He slowly pulled them out and pushed them back in, wanting to do as he’d been told, but not wanting to accidentally push you over the edge lest he not get his own orgasm. That was until Roger, over his shoulder, told Ben to do it properly or be spanked again. After that Ben was merciless, shoving a third fingers into you and roughly pounding his them as deep as he could go.

“That’s better,” Roger said when he returned to your side, “make the whore pay for getting you into trouble.”

You cried out and tried to wriggle away as another spank came down on you, but it was impossible to escape with Ben’s fingers hooked in your cunt and your bound hands. All the same Roger placed one of his feet on the side of your head, holding you down against the carpet as he whacked you again and again, ignoring your screams and the tears soaking the carpet. He stopped and you breathed a sigh of relief but it was short lived as a buzzing noise filled the room and you remembered the toy he’d brought in with the paddle.

 There was no way to suppress your moan as Roger held the vibrator against your clit, warning you not to cum. He held it there for a matter of seconds and then pulled it away again. Ben’s fingers left you a second later and then you were being tugged up by your collar again, the thick leather band pressing into your throat.

“On the couch, whore.”

“Yes, Sir,” you managed to sob as a few more tears rolled down your cheeks.

Once you were on the couch, positioned the same way you had been on the floor, Ben was handed the vibrator.

“Against her clit, highest setting. Don’t move it until I tell you.”

You whimpered, knowing there was no way you could hold back an orgasm with that kind of stimulation. But that didn’t seem to matter to Roger. He expected you to hold it, reminding you that you didn’t have permission in low growl as he spanked you on the back of your thigh. Your arse tingled all over, stinging twice as much whenever he hit you again but it was nothing to the sensation of the vibrator against your clit.

“I’m close,” you whined before another cry was ripped from you as Roger spanked the back of your other thigh.

“Don’t move it slut. The whore needs to fucking hold it.”

You tried but it was no use, there was nothing you could think of, nothing you could do, that could keep you from disobeying. You moaned as the orgasm rolled through you and heard Roger drop the paddle.

“Don’t move it Ben,” Roger growled as he stalked around to your head, pulling it up by the hair, “I thought I told you to hold it whore,”

“I’m sorry, Sir,” you half yelled, whining as the vibrator kept buzzing against your clit.

“You will be.”

You lost sight of Roger as he shoved you back down and walked away.

“Guess we have our answer Ben. Since the whore couldn’t stop herself from cumming, you won’t be allowed to.”

“No, Sir, please, I really need to,”

“That was our deal though slut.”

“Sir,”

“Don’t argue, it’ll just make things worse for you. And don’t move that vibrator.”

Ben fell silent, though a few whimpers escaped him as he pressed the vibrator against you harder.

You were expecting another series of spanks, so when you heard the small jingle sound of Roger removing his belt you cringed away, assuming that was what he was going to hit you with. But instead of the swishing sound it made before a strike, it was followed by the sound of a zip. Roger grabbed your hips and pulled them around so he could press his cock into you. By now the vibrator against your clit felt painful, the overstimulation enough to make you sob but the feeling was only amplified by Roger fucking you hard, his jeans rubbing against your arse since he hadn’t bothered to push them down. You squealed and sobbed as he used your cunt, the vibrator torturing your sensitive clit and making you cry into the couch cushion. Roger just grunted about how tight you were and how your sobs just turned him on more, until finally he came deep inside you. Only after he pulled out did he take the vibrator from Ben, shushing you when you sobbed out a thank you. He stood behind you until he saw his cum dribble out of you and then pulled Ben up by the collar and told him to clean you up. There were footsteps as he left the room but neither of you dared disobey so Ben continued to spread your lips with his thumbs and lick along your slit, pulling a soft moan from you. Roger returned with a warm damp cloth and told Ben to stop. He swiped the cloth over your thighs and up along your lips, gently cleaning off whatever Ben had missed. When he was satisfied he asked you to move over and sat down in the centre of the couch.

“You did so well, Y/N,” he said softly, letting you rest your head in his lap and smoothing back your hair with his palm, “Do you wanna come up here Ben?”

Ben nodded and gingerly knelt on Roger’s other side, too sore to sit properly.

“You were such a good boy Ben, and I’m so proud of you for holding out,” he said as he lay the damp cloth flat against his hand and then reached for Ben’s dick, using the cloth to wank him, “You can cum now.”

Ben panted out a thank you, his voice falling into a moan as he finally got what he’d needed for so long. You watched through tired eyes as Roger’s fist pumped over Ben’s length until his hips stuttered and he moaned with his release. Roger kept praising him until he was completely spent, using the cloth to gather the evidence of the orgasm. It was thrown to the floor and Roger carefully unfastened Ben’s collar, leaning in to give him a soft kiss on the lips and whisper that he loved him. He wrapped his arm around Ben and let him settle on his chest.

“Y/N, love, can you sit up for me?”

You nodded and slowly pushed yourself up, feeling a little dazed.

Roger gently removed your collar and kissed you too, taking an extra moment to cup your cheek, his thumb wiping away the last of your tears, and remind you how good you were and how much he loved you before he let you settle in his lap again. He knew he’d have to move you both eventually. There were ice packs and aloe downstairs in the kitchen that would help with your bruised arses and he’d have to make sure you both ate something and drank some water before you went to sleep. But Roger was happy just to sit there for a while to comfort and cuddle the two people he loved most.

#my writing #my blurbs #my fics #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor smut #roger taylor imagine #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy smut #ben hardy imagine #roger taylor x reader x ben hardy #Anonymous #(technically im a day late but its fine #its probs still the 25th for most of ya'll) #blurb advent 2020

[myluciferiscody]

Class Fight (p.1)

pairing: teen!dandy mott x teen!reader

word count: 3,303

warnings: language, jealous dandy, slightly au!dandy, all characters are 18

part 2 part 3

1.

It was the first semester of your Senior year. The first month of school had flown by, and the Fall dance was just a few weeks away. Your small group of girlfriends was anxiously awaiting for their crushes to ask them.

You weren’t particularly concerned with this. The dance fell on the one Saturday of the month where you had to accompany your mother to some stupid Tupperware party. It was the newest trend in American dining, and your mother needed you as her plus one. It wouldn’t hurt to miss one dance… right?

Your best friends Winter and Zoe were excited, but they were devastated you couldn’t come. You always went with them as a trio.

“Are you sure you couldn’t cancel?” Winter asked while you washed your hands in the bathroom sink. The school day was over, and you planned on accompanying her to the diner for greasy food and to catch up on homework.

“I already promised her weeks ago,” you said, drying your hands. “There’s still prom?”

Winter nodded in understanding, and you both knew it was the end of that discussion. Zoe came out of the stall, her face flushed and hair tied back. She looked clammy.

“You alright in there?” Winter asked her as Zoe took a disposable cup and drank some water.

“Kyle asked me to the dance!” Zoe replied breathlessly. You and Winter both congratulated her, and Winter asked why she looked so sick.

“I just got overwhelmed, you know? He came up and asked me right as I put my books away. I didn’t think he was going too, he never brought it up before-.”

You followed them out as Zoe recanted the story of how Kyle asked her. The halls were mostly cleared now as kids scrambled to leave as soon as possible.

“You’re riding with us, right?” Zoe then asked you, raising a neat eyebrow at you.

“Yes, Dandy probably left already.”

The girls both smirked to themselves, but you ignored it. You were used to it by now.

The thing was, Dandy Mott was the best looking guy in school, in your opinion. You had never attended a public school in your life, but you knew those boys could never compare. Dandy was from the wealthiest family in your private district, and with his looks, girls were all over him.

However, he was quite the character. 

Dandy didn’t necessarily associate with a particular group of kids. He was reticent and didn’t bother with any clubs, but he was quite attuned to the drama program. He was also known for his temper if things didn’t go his way, but age matured him, mostly. You were one of the few people who he actually gave a damn about in life. You attributed that to knowing him before school. Your grandfather was a business partner with the Mott family, where your family name found their wealth, and how you two were friends.

You weren’t bothered by the unwanted attention you got from girls attempting to weasel their way into your circle for the chance to talk to Dandy. Most of them gave up quickly, and that was that. Plus, you had Winter and Zoe as your protectors. They weren’t afraid to kick a bitch in the vagina if they overstepped the clear boundaries you had set for yourself. Dandy trusted you, and you weren’t about to fuck that up.

Plus, his mother, Gloria, was continually trying to set him up with girls in other parts of town. 

You climbed into Zoe’s new car, buckling your seatbelt and glancing across the almost deserted parking lot. You spotted him instantly, sitting in his car and staring right back. You slowly raised your hand, giving him a wave. Dandy slowly reciprocated the action, and you swore you saw him smile.

You spent the evening with the girls, eating dinner and trying to explain the symbolism in the required reading in English. The football team had finished their practice and were crowding what few booths and tables were left. You tried to block out their raucous laughter, loudly asking Zoe to read your theory to see if it were plausible. 

Winter had noticed the Quarterback, Jason, occasionally staring at you as he chewed his burger. Your back was to him, so you had no idea. She didn’t say anything, instead watching him from the corner of her eye, figuring he wouldn’t approach your table. 

“I just think it only makes sense to me,” you told Zoe, scratching your head. “I can’t concentrate with the boys screaming for no reason.”

“I think it makes perfect sense. You did misspell authority, though…”

You laughed to yourself, glancing around the diner as Zoe fixed your spelling. You were so distracted, you misspelled simple words. 

“We should get ready and go, it’s getting stuffy in here…” Winter commented, closing her English book. 

“Just a moment!” Zoe said excitedly, scribbling down in her own notebook now.

You had started gathering your things when both Zoe and Madison looked behind you, looking a mix of concern and amusement. You glanced behind you to see Jason Dean, smiling down at you. His dark hair covered his eyes, and he pushed it back.

You had no idea what to say. The last conversation you had with Jason was probably in fifth grade when he commented that women were weak while helping you carry boxes of school supplies, and you accidentally dropped a massive box of markers on his foot. He cried for an hour. 

“y/n,” he addressed you. You glanced at your friends who were eagerly watching you with their faces hidden behind their textbooks. Winter’s was upside down.

“Hi, Jason,” you responded, hearing the confusion in your voice. You listened to his friends giggling behind you, and you wondered if this was a joke. 

“I haven’t seen you in a minute,” he said cheekily, and you nodded. “You look good.”

You quickly looked him up and down. Jason was muscular but not bulky, and he was definitely a whole foot taller than you. He grew into his facial features, and he was a handsome guy. You assumed he was just talking to you on a dare, so you finished putting your things in your bag. Zoe and Winter didn’t budge, still pretending to read their books.

Jason realized you were dumbfounded at his statement. He quickly backtracked, “I just wanted to say hi. I’ll see you around.”

You bid him farewell, turning to your friends who were having a hard time concealing their laughter. You heard Jason’s best friend, Matthew, call him an idiot and what sounded like a smack on the back.

“y/n, you have a boyfriend?” Zoe asked, smirking at you.

You glared, standing up as they shouldered their bags and grabbed their books. “You know perfectly well I don’t speak to him.”

“I bet he wants to ask you to the dance.” Winter grinned at Zoe, who nodded in agreement as you stepped into the cold autumn air. 

“I’m not going either way.” you mumbled, and the girls dropped it until the next morning. 

2.

You didn’t think it was that big of a deal that the Quarterback tried to talk to you at the diner a few nights before. All the students who were present spread gossip like wildfire. You ignored it. You knew they were just children speculating what it could mean when it probably meant nothing. 

Zoe and Winter never brought it up again, and you were relieved that your friends didn’t dwell on it for too long. You loved that about them. 

It was after lunchtime when you sat in your History course, going over the notes for the test. You heard Jason and a few of his friends pile in, laughing and making comments under their breath. They took their designated seats in the back, and you felt eyes on the back of your head. 

A group of popular girls across the room started to giggle, and you glanced up to see Dandy walk in, his nose up and sauntering to the seat directly behind you. You wondered why he didn’t acknowledge you, but you didn’t dwell on it long. Dandy was often absent from any social interaction. 

Your teacher began the class the moment the bell rang. She decided to go over the notes an extra day and postponed the test. You were mildly disappointed but knew the material well, so you decided to doodle in your journal. One of the girls in the front occasionally popped her gum. 

Ms. Strode was talking about World War II when you felt something hit your elbow. You glanced over and saw a balled-up piece of paper. You glanced around to see most people were either frantically jotting down notes or not paying any attention. You picked it up, assuming it just needed to be passed ahead.

However, you read your name in neat cursive and opened it under the table.

Would you go to the dance with me? - Jason

You read the short invitation a good ten or so times before you could comprehend what he was asking. While the teacher wasn’t looking, you peeked over your shoulder to see him staring at you. His buddies were hiding their own smiles, but you didn’t see any malice behind it. Was he serious?

Of course, you’d have to decline. You already have an engagement. You promised your mother. You already declined the evening with your two best friends.

You didn’t send a note back, knowing it would be too distracting trying to pass it. Dandy would never try to give a stupid message.

However, Dandy had been paying attention and had managed to read the note over your shoulder when you laid it on your pencil case. He became green with envy, closing the book he hadn’t been paying attention too in the first place.

You hardly spoke a word to him this year. He wondered why that was. Dandy was very particular who he said too, and gave any sliver of his precious time. You were a comfort to him and probably didn’t realize that. Dandy knew he couldn’t seem desperate for your affection, or at the very least, your attention. He had hoped you’d be waiting for him in his car after school like the previous years before. Did he do something to upset you? Were you too good for him?

Dandy spent the rest of the class staring at the back of your head. He knew that wasn’t the case. Perhaps it was his behavior that steered you away. Of course, he liked being friends with you, but maybe it wasn’t enough. He was a loner who enjoyed his alone time. Dandy heard what people said about him. The general consensus was that he was doing everything right. 

When the class was dismissed, he hung back, watching as you quickly gathered your things and paced out the door. 

“Tough blow, man!” he heard Matthew say.

“She’ll come around.” Jason replied, his tone snarky. Dandy watched as they walked out of the room, his brows furrowing as he debated on taking the high road and asking you to the stupid dance himself. He wouldn’t go willingly. His mother, Gloria, needed him to be involved as much as possible. To keep up appearances, of course. Not for Dandy’s own goodwill. 

Dandy trailed out of the class, seeing you across the hall at your locker. Winter was beside you, somehow talking and applying lipstick at the same time. He stood off to the side, not minding all the bodies bumping into him and temporarily panicking that he’d yell at them.

This is it, Dandy thought. It’s a war, whether Jason Dean knew that or not. 

3.

Jason approached you the following day and asked if you’d mind talking to him at lunch. You hesitantly agreed, catching Zoe’s eye as she hugged Kyle before going into her class. She smiled at you, and you gave her a hesitant one in return. 

He definitely matured through the years. Jason was interested in you, and you felt comfortable talking to him through the entire lunch period, even catching yourself laughing at his sense of humor. Dandy played with the apple in his hands, glaring daggers at the back of Jason’s messy head. Winter noticed from her spot at your usual table and nudged Zoe, gesturing for her to look. 

“He looks pissed.” Zoe giggled, and Winter nodded in agreement. 

“I think Mott is going to kill him!” Winter said, stabbing at her steamed broccoli.

“Shouldn’t we let y/n know?” Zoe asked.

“I think she’s about to figure it out.” Winter said as Dandy stood up, heading directly to the table where you were sitting with Jason. Zoe and Winter fell into a hush, shoving food into their mouth and intently watching what was about to unfold. 

Jason saw him approaching first and paused, sizing the other guy up and down. Jason was bigger than Dandy in height and muscle tone from being an athlete, but Dandy wasn’t lanky either. You turned around, shocked to find Dandy staring down at you. 

“y/n,” Dandy nodded at you, ignoring Jason.

“Dandy, hi!” you said, genuinely happy to see him. “How are you?”

“I’m decent.” he said, smiling a little. “Could I have a word?” 

You glanced at Jason, who seemed timid, but he nodded. You stood up, promising Jason you’d be back as you followed Dandy out to the hallway. Multiple eyes followed you, and you heard the whispers starting as the door swung shut. 

“How are you?” Dandy asked now, looking down at you. His dark hair was neatly gelled and had a slight curl. 

“I’ve been good. I haven’t heard from you in a while…” you said.

Dandy nodded, “I could say the same. I assumed you’d come back around soon enough.”

You felt he was hurt by your absence. Dandy looked bothered, and you felt terrible. However, he was capable of approaching you as well. Which is what he thought he had to do. 

“Is everything okay?” you questioned, hoping his mother was doing well. You hadn’t seen her all Summer. 

“y/n, you know you’re one of the only people I care about in this stupid town,” Dandy said, glancing towards a teacher walking to the lounge. He gave you guys a questioning look but didn’t comment, disappearing into the next room. 

You weren’t sure how to respond to that, so Dandy continued, “Which is why I think you shouldn’t go to the formal with Jason.”

You frowned, “How do you know he asked me?”

“The whole school knows!” Dandy retorted, and you remembered. “I think it’s a bad idea.”

“It doesn’t matter, I’m not going either way.”

Dandy looked surprised, and you saw the relief in his eyes. He laughed a little, his fingers drumming against his leg. “Oh.”

“What, are you jealous?” you asked, laughing at him. Dandy tried to hide his laughter, but it didn’t work. The quiet hallway was filled with your giggles.

“That’s for me to know and for you to find out.” Dandy said, and you were saddened to hear the bell ring. Dandy straightened up, the smile leaving his face as kids filed out of the cafeteria and the surrounding classrooms. Kids stared at you and whispered, many laughing and wondering if you were now a couple. 

Jason slowly walked in your direction, but you didn’t want to say goodbye to Dandy. You were ashamed that you had avoided him for so long. You missed him. Dandy glanced behind you, his eyes sharpening as your new suitor waited patiently, his hands in his beige jacket. 

“Be careful around him.” Dandy whispered to you before he disappeared down the hall.

You approached Jason, who gave you a soft smile, “Am I missing something? Are you two together?”

You shook your head, a light smile on your lips, “No. We’re just friends.”

“Oh…” Jason nodded, “Look, I just wanted to say that I’m sorry if I freaked you out the other day. We don’t have to go to the dance together, but-.”

“Oh!” you gasped. Jason frowned, giving you a quizzical look. “The dance… I forgot,” you lied. “Uhm, I’m actually not going. I have other plans…” you said.

Jason looked defeated but took the rejection gracefully. You promised you’d sit with him again tomorrow, and he visibly cheered up at that. You ended up having to sprint to your locker for your books after saying goodbye, but you couldn’t stop thinking about Dandy’s warning. 

“Be careful around him.”

The Friday before the dance went to complete shit.

That morning you ate your breakfast slowly, listening to your parents argue in the kitchen over a business deal your mother thought was a bad idea. Your father was greedy and looked towards the top dollar than what was best for the business and the family. 

If that wasn’t bad enough, Winter fell sick and couldn’t go to school. You had to wait for your father to finish getting ready before he could drive you. You were ten minutes late and got a verbal warning; you never got in trouble at school. You had three tests in a row, and by lunch, you were about to rip your hair out.

Jason was nowhere to be found, so you sat with Zoe. She was worried that Winter would miss the dance but was happy that she’d at least have Kyle if Winter canceled. Kyle came and sat with you guys, his shaggy blond hair wet from the downpour outside. 

You were anxiously looking around the cafeteria for any sign of Dandy. He had missed a few days of school, citing a fever when you called his house and spoke to his maid, Dora. You wished him well and knew he’d pull through fast. Plus, you saw his car this morning when you got dropped off. 

“They’re going to cancel the dance if more kids fall ill,” Kyle said as he ate a burger. Zoe glared at him, telling him to look on the bright side of things. 

“What? I am!” Kyle replied, smirking at his new girlfriend.

“I’m sure they won’t cancel.” you placated Zoe, who beamed at you. “All the parents who gave money will be pissed.”

You ate most of your lunch when the principal walked in. The room immediately quieted as he observed the tables before landing on you. He walked to you briskly, and you felt your heart racing as he approached. 

Am I getting detention? I’ve only been late once!

“Ms. y/l/n, could you come with me?” he asked politely, smiling at you, Zoe, and Kyle.

You nodded slowly, bunching up your trash and placing it on the tray. Zoe told you to leave it, and they’d take care of it. You quietly thanked her and followed Principal Harmon out, struggling to keep pace with his long, thin legs.

“Is everything alright, sir?” you asked. Now wondering if your parents died in some fiery crash or if you failed a class. 

“There’s been a disturbance outside this afternoon,” Harmon replied, his voice grim. “With Mr. Mott and Mr. Dean.”

You were shocked to hear this. You were silent during the rest of the trek to his office. When he opened the door, you saw both boys sitting in chairs. They both had packs of ice on their faces and sheepish expressions.

“What were you thinking?” you hissed to them as Mr. Harmon gestured for you to take the empty seat next to Dandy.

“Well, now that y/n is here, I think you both owe her an explanation and an apology.” 

Jason and Dandy shared a look. Dandy now looked pissed, and you could only imagine what lead to this. 

Oh, I have a pretty good fucking idea.

#dandy mott #dandy mott x reader #ahs imagine #dandy mott imagine #ahs freak show #winter anderson #zoe benson #american horror story

[rachelbethhines]

Tangled Salt Marathon - The Return of the King

So we’re back to the quasi-filler stuff. This episode does set a few things up for the finale, like bringing Edmund to Corona, but none of those things are actually good and it’s still mostly filled with irrelevant shit alongside the more important stuff. 

Summary: King Edmund arrives in Corona to see his long-lost son, Eugene, and to give him the royal sash of their bloodline. Eugene wants nothing to do with him, but Rapunzel invites him to stay. Later, the sash is stolen and a ransom note is left behind. Edmund and Eugene decide to go and retrieve it. Meanwhile, the Stabbington Brothers plot revenge on Eugene as they are both viewed as a joke by the other criminals.

So How Did the Stabbingtons Escape the Prison Barge 

Last we saw them they were stuck on a prison barge along with Lady Caine and all of the other season one villains. How did they escape? Did Lady Caine or anybody else make it out? If so then where are they this season? 

We’re not going to get any of those questions answered are we? 

Man this is just sloppy continuity. Which ironic, because these two were only brought back this season because of continuity. They need to be “redeemed” so that they can be at the wedding. I guess it just sucks to be you if you’re an original villain for this show and not named Cassandra. 

Why Is This Deserving of Ridicule? 

Like...We’re talking about a world renowned thief and adventurer and his magical royal girlfriend who are well known enough outside of Corona to be mentioned and there for no doubt people know how they both defeated monsters, daemons, and several criminals besides just there two guys, right? 

This plot point makes no sense. 

You could just kick these dumbasses butts and be done with it. I doubt they’d bother picking on you again if you did.  

Did we really need even more motivation for them to want revenged against Eugene?

Rapunzel is Back to Being Her Bossy Self 

Rapunzel has not earned the role of “wise administrator” yet. She’s only been out of the tower for two years now and she has yet to prove to the audience that she has managed to learn anything since then. By jumping the gun and forcing her into a role that she hasn’t grown into, and by ignoring that this whole show started out as a coming of age story, it just makes Rapunzel unpleasant to be around. All her “advice” is just her ordering people about with a veneer of chipperness to try and mask her controlling nature. People who should know more about their own lives than she does and have no reason to listen to her.  

So We’re Showing Rapunzel Being Responsible... By Having Her Avoid Responsibility? 

Part of why the writers made her “acting queen” for the first half the season was to get her to grow into the role of becoming full time queen. However they screwed this up by not having her actually learn anything and having her avoid the real duties a queen preforms. 

What Rapunzel is doing her is just being a socialite busybody. The only administrative thing she does is approve some low-scale building plans for a small business. A thing that would have been handled by a lower official in an actual functioning government.   

Once again Rapunzel is being selfish and doing what she like, ie bossy people around while having them kiss her ass, as the real work of running the kingdom is left to someone else. This isn’t being responsible, it’s being hypocritical, but don't expect anyone to ever call Rapunzel out for this. 

Pointless Action Scene is Pointless

At this point, the low stakes action sequences are just cringe. Like is this an adventure show or not people? Stop forcing crap like this and give us some real conflicts instead.  

How Did You Get Here So Fast Edmund?

It took Rapunzel and company nearly a year to get to the Dark Kingdom. Even if Edmund wasn't delayed with pit stops like they were, it would have still taken him several months to get here by horse. 

Did he take a boat, or have four to six months already past since Rapunzel’s Return? 

I would argue that this episode was aired out of order and should have been later in the season, but Cassandra’s appearance at the end of this story, and Hamnuel’s appearances in later episodes, would suggest otherwise. 

Crap like this is why season’s three timeline doesn’t work unless you stretch everything out to two years instead of one. 

Read the Room Rapunzel

One could argue that Rapunzel is just trying to be polite, but that doesn't really hold water. 

For starters Eugene is clearly upset and has every right to want to set boundaries between himself and Edmund. Ignoring that is incredibly rude and if my significant other ever did such a thing, well they wouldn’t be my significant other for very long. 

Secondly, Rapunzel could have offered other accommodations if she felt pressured to be polite to Edmund. Not only are their lots of inns in a port town known for trade, many of which are probably well-to-do, but there’s also that convent that was mentioned back in season one. It has to be somewhere in Corona itself and as the so far only mentioned major religious organization in the country it would no doubt have stately quarters for when royalty and nobility would visit. 

So not only would it be a suitable place for a visiting king to stay in, as it would be made for such things, but it’s also far enough away that Eugene wouldn’t feel like his space is being invaded but close enough that Edmund could come and go as he pleases. 

By that point it’s still between Edmund and Eugene and Rapunzel can stay out of it, like she should. 

Eugene is Right

These are all valid reasons for cutting someone out of your life. Furthermore, you don’t even need a reason. If you don’t want to associate with somebody then just don't associate with. It’s your life. You don’t have to justify how you choose to live it and people who actually care about you should respect that. 

Unfortunately no one respects Eugene.  

Not Edmund, not Rapunzel, and most certainly not the writers. 

Then Why Don't You Get Closer to Edmund, Rapunzel?

I understand Rapunzel’s viewpoint here. Edmund is the only person she’s ever met who has experienced the same isolation that she has. He’s one of the very few people whom she can empathize with. 

However that doesn’t give her the right to force her views upon her boyfriend. If she cared so much than she could just befriend Edmund herself and leave Eugene out of it. 

Trying to encourage a child to have relationship with a parent who neglected them is super tone deaf at best and outright disrespectful at worst. It’s also highly hypocritical seeing as Rapunzel cut Gothel out of her life for similar reasons and Eugene only ever supported her for it. 

No really, flip the situation. If Eugene tried to encourage Rapunzel to give Gothel a second chance everyone would be slamming him for it. So why does Rapunzel get a free pass? 

Shorty Already Did That, Eugene. Don’t You Remember? 

I mean, you were literally right there when it happened. Are we forgetting season two the same as season one now? 

So Why Are Stan and Pete Suddenly Back, But Not Cap?

I mean we went through all that trouble in Rapunzel’s Return to write them out of the narrative and here they are without any explanation. Why are simple set ups so dang hard for this show? 

Rapunzel is Overstepping Her Bounds Here

Ok, giving Edmund a place to stay is one thing. Suggesting to Eugene that he should give Edmund a chance is not appropriate but still forgivable. But this? 

This crosses a fucking line! 

Eugene is not Rapunzel’s subject. He’s her boyfriend, and a prince in his own right. Rapunzel can’t just volunteer him for crap without his consent. That’s just indirectly ordering him about like she would a servant.  

Once again, flip the script. If Eugene tried to force Rapunzel to work with Gothel everyone would be up in arms. Why is this then deemed okay? 

This is Coercion

Not only is Edmund and Rapunzel trying to guilt trip Eugene here but she even fucking elbows him!

Like this isn’t “cute couple bickering” here. That kind of stuff is reserved only for inconsequential shit. 

This a woman trying to strong arm and guilt trip her husband to be into having a relationship with his abusive father! Because guess what? Neglect is still abuse! 

Rapunzel has zero say in Eugene and Edmund’s relationship. It’s none of her fucking business! Trying to force her into this plot just makes her look like an asshat. 

I mean look at this smug smile! The fucking bitch is proud of being a shit human being and a terrible girlfriend. 

And of course don't expect the show to call out this behavior as wrong because of out of date sexist double standards. If you think any of this is okay then just role reverse Eugene and Rapunzel here and then tell me its still alright. 

The Show Missed a Real Trick By Not Naming Him Horus Instead

Horus, the sun god, would have been a nice bit of irony and given meaning to the name while keeping the joke virtually unchanged. You could have had both lore and a punchline. 

And I would argue that the joke as is, isn’t even funny. Horace is indeed a lame name, but not for the reason that the show gives. It’s lame because it’s not unique enough. There’s already a Disney character named Horace and I’m sure there are real people out there with that name as well since it’s not completely unheard of. So the joke falls flat and winds up insulting anyone with that name. 

Don’t Expect Any Pay Off for Eugene’s Identity Issues This Season

Yeah the show makes a big deal out of Eugene having a mid-life crisis through out season three, but then never resolves it in any meaningful way. 

Edmund Is an Asshole 

I don’t care how “crazy” he is. Calling someone by a name they don't wished to be called is just plain rude. Acknowledging someone’s preferred name is just a basic common courtesy that is expected of everyone. Once again, this isn’t funny, quirky, nor charming, just unpleasant. 

So the Animators Wasted a Model on a No-Named Character Who Only Appears Once

Someone said this little girl appears in season one, but it’s not noticeable if she does. She also doesn’t have a name and this is her only speaking role. What a waste of money. Just have one of the braided girls from the movie instead. You already built models for them and haven’t really used them. 

And before some mentions race here, this is poor rep already cause the character has no impact. 

Turns Out, Varian Didn’t Even Need Those Truth Serum Cookies

Not only does this dumb down Pete to a ridiculous degree, but it also invalidates everything Varian went through in The Alchemist Returns and the grief he got from everyone for using the truth serum. 

Oh, and it’s also lazy writing and a plot contrivance.  

That’s Not Figgy Pudding!

This is Figgy Pudding.

It’s a boiled “pudding” that’s more like a cake with dried fruit in it. During the 14th through 18th centuries such bread puddings were made to be carried around in ones pocket or knapsack for eating on the go. They’re nothing like the creamy custards we call puddings today. 

It also looks nothing like what’s shown on the screen below. 

That’s like a half eaten loaf of wheat bread?  

That’s jelly filled .. apparently...?

Once Again, If You Have to Make Everyone Else Incompetent to Make Your Hero Useful to the Plot Then You Need a New Plot

Rapunzel has zero business in this plot. She doesn’t even need to be in this episode beyond a cameo. Trying to cram her into the protagonist role in a conflict that doesn’t involve her is just a disservice to everyone.  

Winnie The Pooh Is More Mature Than This Show

More of that meta commentary I was talking about last episode, and it just as full of shit as ever. 

Seriously Find Her, Keep Her is the best script I have ever seen in any show. It’s perfectly balanced so that anyone of any age can relate to it. It’s real and heartbreaking and perfectly suitable for small children to understand. There’s no shock value, no darkness, no modern satire, but its far more mature and complex and deep than anything TTS has tried. 

Also Rabbit is a far better father than any dad in this show, while still being cut from the same trope. There’s no shame in being a children’s show when its done well and this now 30 year old kids show runs rings around what ever mess Tangled is trying to sell. 

Eugene Isn’t Exaggerating Here and I Don't Know How to Feel About That

Turns out Eugene did grow up with these guys the same as he did with Lance. It’ll be confirmed only two episodes later. That just recontextualizes everything. He didn’t just betray some rando guys that he held no feelings for, he betrayed people that he’s known and worked with since childhood. 

Now just because he’s known them doesn’t mean that they were family to him like Lance, but like the fact that he keeps claiming then as such through out the episode would suggest that perhaps they were like siblings. 

That’s ... ingenious. That makes Flynn Rider retroactively an even worse person and gives the Stabbingtons real reason for vengeance. 

Only the show doesn't do anything with this!  It just makes Eugene an even bigger jerk in the movie for zero reason. 

Let Me Reiterate, Edmund Is an Asshole 

Just like with Frederic, Cassandra, and Rapunzel the show uses framing to try and make the audience side with people who do unforgivable things. 

Edmund is an abuser. He neglected his own son for 25 years. But the show presents him as “funny” and “quriky” and “look at his pouty face, he’s so lonely”.... 

No!

Edmund isn’t deserving of anything and how he treats Eugene here is garbage. 

This show is utter crap writing wise but boy does it know how to gaslight its own audience into siding with bullies and abusers.  

Eugene Is One Thousand Percent In the Right Here, But Don’t Expect the Narrative to Acknowledge That

There’s nothing you can do to make up for that. 

Eugene might forgive him. Eugene might move on from it. Eugene might decide a relationship it still worth having with Edmund. But the horrible thing still happened and it happened because Edmund allowed it to happen. There’s no going back from that and everything going forward has to be on Eugene’s terms alone. 

But the narrative won't allow Eugene that agency. 

Even as he makes his grand proclamation about being done with Edmund the cameras chooses to focus on Edmund and his feelings. The story is already priming the audience to prioritize Edmund over Eugene so that when the forced and contrived forgiveness scene comes we won't question it. But it only comes because Chris doesn’t deem Eugene as individual person with thoughts and feels of his own, but as an avatar to fulfill his wishfulment fantasy regarding his own personal daddy issues. 

Rapunzel’s Characterization in Season Three is Just....Off

Ok, even ignoring the major stuff, like not recognizing what she’s done wrong, putting her into roles she’s not meant to carry, and making her a shitty girlfriend suddenly, Rapunzel just behaves contrary to her character all through out season three even in small subtle ways like here. 

On the surface this seems like a clever call back to Great Expotations, but lets examine more closely, shall we. 

On one end we have yo-yos; an invention that’s been around since ancient Greece and is so wide spread across the globe that the word “yo-yo” itself is theorized to come from Indonesia and the Philippines.

On the other end there is Rapunzel. A woman who spent 18 years isolated inside of a tower, because of this she is both ignorant of somethings and insatiability curious and eager to learn.  Or at least she was, until striking out onto a year long road trip, and having now been out of the tower for only two years, claims to know better than the entire fucking world about this object who’s existence she didn’t even know about until only a year and half ago! 

Like what kind of sense does this make? Why would you abandon the core of her drive and motivation, to learn, explore, and grow, and then call it “development”? 

How Did Edmund Get Beat By These Guys?

Edmund took out Adria. The Brotherhood is suppose to be the best physical fighters in this world and Edmund is supposed to be best out of all of them. Yet he’s taken out by two random, mediocre dudes who didn't even jump him. They gave him time to respond and he stood up to fight them. 

Was all his physical prowess tied into that axe? Is the axe magic? 

If you characters have to be depowered for unexplained reasons for the plot to work than you haven’t a good plot. 

This Isn’t as Heartwarming as You Think It Is Show

If Edmund knew where Eugene was this whole time then he could have actually provided for his son. He could have arranged adoption with someone by letter, sent money, food, clothes, ect, maybe even wrote to Eugene directly and kept up a long distance relationship to be there for him emotionally. 

There is literally no excuse anymore for Edmund to hide behind. He literally neglected his duties as a parent, just cause. 

Finding these things shouldn’t make Eugene happy. Finding these things should piss him off even further because that’s how any logical adult would respond to this bullcrap. 

I sure know I’m angry. I’m angry that Eugene is a pawn for the creators’ writing wank-off rather then being treated as human being; as an actual character. 

“Nice” Isn’t the Same Thing as Kind, Rapunzel

One could argue that she’s not even superficially nice in season three, but the real problem here is that the show, and by extension Rapunzel herself, doesn’t understand the difference between being “pleasant” and actually being a good person. Outwardly polite people can stab you in the back, can kill you even, and not care, as Rapunzel has demonstrated repeatedly since season one.   

Do They Have to Be “Family” for Eugene to Give a Damn? 

Can’t Eugene just do the right thing, because it’s the right thing to do? People don't need to be friends and family to care about each others lives. Kindness isn’t transactional. Empathy and true charity doesn’t come with strings attached. If Eugene’s whole arc is about becoming a better person, then making the Stabbingtons “family” kind of undermines this. 

Don’t Reward the Dude for Doing the Bare Fucking Minimal 

No seriously. Edmund forfeited the right to ever be called “dad” by Eugene a long fucking time ago. He doesn’t get to be called that now just because he stopped being a piece of scum and showed the bare minimal of human decency. Even if Eugene decides to have a relationship with Edmund after this, it doesn’t mean that  he has to be recognized as his dad or that that relationship will be a parental one.  

Eugene, and by Extension the Show, Places Rapunzel Upon a Pedestal to  the Detriment of All

Only 4 villains out of 20 get redeemed in this show. Four, and yes I’m counting the Stabbintions as one entity here. That’s 16 times Rapunzel failed to give someone a second chance just cause she didn’t feel like it that day, and even here she did fuck all in trying to give the Stabbingtons any sort of chance. That was all on Eugene. 

The more this show goes on, the more it looks like Eugene is just in love with the idea of Rapunzel rather than who she actually is as a person. It’s a disservice to both their characters but it damages Rapunzel most of all because the show perpetuates this over idealization to everyone she interacts with. 

It’s really sickening to watch and terrifying to know that some uphold this selfish brat as a “role model” for little girls. There’s nothing empowering in being an inhuman “goddess” who can do no wrong....even as they do several wrongs and never gets called out on it.    

This Isn’t “Cute”

Eugene can’t even have an opinion on a fucking toy!

Look if you still like New Dream despite how horribly written it is this season, then good for you. That is completely understandable, especially since this is mainly a problem with season three and not really in the first two seasons and certainly not in the movie. 

But if you try to deny that they aren’t toxic in season three, that people who do have problems with how they’re written aren’t valid in their concerns, than you’re either someone who hasn’t been paying attention or someone who has gross double standards for women in relationships. 

This Scene Is A Waste of Time

This doesn’t tell the audience anything. It contradicts what was previously established concerning her powers without explanation and then just throws the creepy girl voice in there for a lazy hook. It doesn’t work at foreshadowing since we repeat this info all over again in the next episode and it doesn’t expand upon neither Zhan Tiri’s nor Cassandra’s characters.

 In fact it kind of contradicts Cassandra’s characterization in the last episode as well. Is she a remorseless bad bitch or a vulnerable woobie? She can’t be both. Not in the way show is going about it anyways. 

It’s poor time management and poor storytelling. 

Conclusion

It was mildly better than Rapunzel’s Return, but that’s not saying much. Everyone’s character is still circling the drain and there’s no escape line in sight. 

But before I close out, here is a real world update. I had to quit my job at Amazon for personal reasons and am currently job hunting. I’m not hurting right now, I do have money saved up to cover me for at least a month and I’ve been doing commissions here and there, however despite having more time technically to write these reviews, I’m now having to juggle it along with artwork and job hunting. 

If you would like to support my reviews and other personal projects you can send me a tip over at Ko-Fi and more public commissions will be opening soon over there as well.  

https://ko-fi.com/rachelbethhines

#eugene #anti-rapunzel #anti-tangled #tangled #tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure

[xpedropascal]

To Be So Lonely [Maxwell Lord x Reader] Part Three

Summary: After being struck by a family tragedy, Maxwell Lord finds his legacy in taking over his father’s business, Black Gold Cooperative. Cold and shut-off from the world around him, he decides he does not have time for anything other than his work and cares only about pushing his company to success – but how difficult does that become for him when you enter his life as a ghost from the past?

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

WARNINGS: mention of suicide, character death, illness (cancer)

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR [coming soon!]

MASTERLIST

KO-FI

AUTHOR’S NOTE: chapter three! this is quite an intense one so please check the warnings before reading. flashbacks can be identified through use of italics. To Be So Lonely will have themes of hurt/comfort, angst, fluff etc. i plan on it being a whole exciting ride. there will be connections to the DCEU and certain characters will making an appearance… however, for story-telling purposes, this will be in an alternate universe to Wonder Woman 1984 just because the movie has yet to be released. the main bulk of the story will be set in the 80s, with the occasional childhood flashbacks. please let me know if you want to be added onto a tag list!

♡ ♡ ♡ THREE ♡ ♡ ♡

You were still frozen, your brain struggling to process what had just happened. It wasn’t until city hall’s bell chimed and you knew it had turned 6PM, you were snapped out of your thoughts. You cursed under your breath and hurriedly put the cloth and spray you were holding behind the counter before bolting into your manager’s small make-shift office. On his desk, you located an ivory envelope, sealed, with your name written on it. You knew exactly what it was and ripped it open on instinct, collecting this month’s salary. Flicking your fingers through the green dollar bills, you found yourself mentally calculating how much your work this month had earned you. You sighed, puffing out your cheeks and feeling disheartened. Only $320. Grabbing your jacket and purse, you locked up the coffee shop.

When you stepped foot on the street outside, you took in the cool evening air. It felt so refreshing. Every pay day, you knew exactly where you needed to go and what you’d be spending your salary on. Swinging your purse over your shoulder you jogged over to the pharmacy just a few blocks away, and breathed a sigh of relief when you saw that the kind owner had yet to close. You stumbled in, trying to catch your breath and offered the owner of the pharmacy a warm smile. “Hi Mrs Walters,” you greeted her.

“Hi dear, how was work?” She leaned her sweeping brush into a corner and approached you, rubbing your shoulders in a comforting manner. You had been seeing Mrs Walters consistently more or less since you moved back to Gotham, and had grown increasingly close to her. You didn’t have time for friendships anymore, but the short, white haired lady had always been there for you during the darkest of times. You considered telling her about your run-in with Bruce Wayne, but figured that wouldn’t be the best idea since you were still trying to make sense of it all.

“It was okay. Same old. Do you have my mother’s prescription ready?” You quizzed Mrs Walters. The pharmacist gave you a knowing look and grabbed a rather large paper bag with Lucia Y/L/N (your mother’s name) written on it. The bag was filled with pills and potions used to make your mother’s life just that little bit easier. Upon leaving DC, your mother became sick but as you watched her health deteriorate, and knowing there was no cure for her illness, you swore to yourself you would do anything in your means to make her life as comfortable as could be. If that meant spending almost the entirety of your monthly salary on her, so be it.

“Yes, that will be $300.” Mrs Walters said, her fingers clicking away as she checked the numbers into the cash register. You pulled out your wages from your purse and handed them over to the pharmacist. Despite Mrs Walters giving you discount like she always would, it didn’t change the fact you had only just been paid and were now practically spent up for the month. You mouthed a ‘thank you’ at the kind lady, offering her a polite smile, and took the heavy paper bag filled to the brim with medication. With only twenty dollars to last the rest of the month, you decided to against getting the bus and travelled home by feet. It’s a mild night anyway- you told yourself.

♡

“Mother, with all due respect…” Maxwell Lord rolled his eyes as his mother paced around the spacious kitchen of Maxwell Lord’s DC penthouse, her high heels clicking against the pristine tiled floor. Thanks to botox from DC’s finest plastic surgeons, Naomi Lord had barely aged. She was still strutting around in that same ruby red lipstick, decked out in the most elegant pearls retrieved from the deepest part of the ocean, and her platinum blonde hair still sat in the tightest of curls.

“No Maxwell, you need to listen to me. I am not going to watch you make the same mistakes as your father did. Wasting away your shares in Black Gold like it’s nothing!”

Maxwell sighed, gently putting down his mug of espresso on the kitchen counter and closing his copy of The Financial Times. “It’s called investment.”

“Investing into what, exactly? Charity?” Naomi chuckled in disbelief. “Just like your father.” She reiterated. “Had some kind of complex, thinking he could singlehandedly fix the world by donating a few thousand to- what? The local library?” Naomi narrowed her eye’s at the cheque which had been written out in Maxwell’s name. Maxwell made a fist.

“I am nothing like my father.” Maxwell snapped, abruptly standing and pointing his ring clad finger, wincing at his mother’s painful comparison. Naomi suddenly quietened down, taking the hint that she had perhaps overstepped her boundaries. But she, like her son, was not one to give up.

“Sweetheart,” Naomi said, her voice gentle as she sat her son back down. “You know, all I’ve ever wanted is what’s best for Black Gold Cooperative. Because what is best for Black Gold Cooperative, is best for you.”

Maxwell’s mother had been telling her son this every single day after his father passed. After his father had selfishly chosen to leave him. It was no wonder he had engrained into him that his main priority was the family business. He was so sure he could never forgive his father for what he had done.

♡

When sixteen year old Maxwell Lord discovered his father’s body, the cry he let out was not one any mother wanted to hear from their child. Not even Naomi Lord. Maxwell fell to his knees and crawled over to his father’s body, grabbing on to it and swearing he’d never let go. Tears streaming down his face, he screamed for his mother. He yelled for help. Naomi came running into her husband’s office where she was met with her son, cradling Maxwell Lord III’s lifeless body on the floor.

“Oh Max, oh Max, oh Max,” she whispered repeatedly as she approached her son and gently tore him away from his father. Maxwell screamed as he let go and curled into his mother’s arms, sobbing. Naomi’s heart was shattered, and she buried her face into her son’s dark blonde hair, comforting him the best she could. She sat with Maxwell, on the floor, for only a few minutes, until she was able to compose herself and stand up. She took her son’s hand and pulled him up. “Sit here. Sit here my love, I’m going to call Lucia.” Naomi pulled her husband’s office chair out and watched her son shakily sit in it. She handed him a box of tissues and walked over to the phone, dialling the extension to the guest house. “Ah yes, Lucia it seems I could use your assistance. In my husband’s office. Quickly.” Naomi put the phone down and took a deep breath. “Okay Maxwell, brighten up. No time to mourn. Things are going to change real fast for you,” she rubbed the tears away from her son’s eyes. “Look at me. I need you to go to your room and change into your best suit, and then wait for me in the lobby.”

“But dad-“ Maxwell whimpered, and turned to look at his father one last time.

“I won’t ask you again.” Naomi said sternly. Maxwell nodded obediently and stood up before leaving the office.

Naomi watched her son leave, stiffening up and kneeling beside her husband on the floor. With great difficulty, she was able to regulate her breathing and hold back any tears. Hidden in the pocket of his suit jacket, she found a note. Unfolding it, she read her husband’s final words.

‘Naomi,

This was never meant to happen. Lord Tech was a failure- my failure. I always knew you were against the expansion of Black Gold Cooperative but with Wayne Enterprises’ taking over the states, I felt like I had no other choice. We’re losing money, and a lot of it. As of today, I will be disenfranchising Lord Technologies. It will be no more; for I have made a discovery, that our company, our family business, has been creating and selling carcinogenic products. I am filled with extreme guilt. How am I to go on, when it is our family name that will be responsible for hundreds of deaths worldwide.

On the second Monday of March, I asked our house-keeper, Lucia, to collect my belongings from our head laboratory. Naomi, darling, I have no doubt that she will be infected with the illness. Everyone who has been in proximity with our head lab developers will now have the cancer. I feel for her daughter. I found out that the cancer is a new strain. Lucia knows nothing about this and I expect for it to stay that way. The outbreak will make news eventually but it cannot be associated with my family name. The Lord family has nothing to do with this. Hide my note, and when the time comes, pass it on to my boy Maxwell, when he is old enough to understand.

Oh my dearest Maxwell… my wife, you should ensure he does not make the same mistakes as I did. Black Gold Cooperative still has a chance of success and our family legacy must go on! But not under my rule. Which is why, I will be passing on the business to him. Black Gold is our priority. It will always be our priority.

My boy, on the chance that you read this, know that I have always loved you. I’ve not been the best father, but even in death know that I have always cared so deeply about you.

Make me proud.

With love,

Maxwell Lord III’

Naomi gulped, folding away the note and slipping it into the pocket of her fur jacket.

“Mrs Lord,” Lucia appeared by the office door frame and when she caught sight of Maxwell Lord III’s dead body she gasped, stumbling backwards.

“Suicide,” Naomi explained, raising to her feet. “Lucia, are you sick?”

“I’m okay,” Lucia knotted her eyebrows in confusion, but she had no time to question it. “Mrs Lord… I am so… so sorry…”

“Lucia I need you to call an ambulance and report a suicide,” Naomi instructed.

“Did he leave a note?” Lucia asked.

Naomi hesitated before letting out a strong “No.”

“Oh…”

“Call the press too.” Naomi said.

“The press?”

“I’ll be the one to announce my husband’s demise… not some random paparazzi selling the story to the tabloids. I also have to announce the closure of Lord Technologies. From now on, our focus will be on Black Gold Cooperative… it’s what my husband would’ve wanted.” Naomi replied, the usual bitterness dripping from her tongue.

“You’re taking over Black Gold?” Lucia questioned further.

“No, my son is.”

“But Max is just a child…”

“My son will be CEO of Black Gold Cooperative. He is a Lord. He has what it takes.”

Lucia gulped. “I have no doubt but don’t you think you should give him a little time to grieve before you throw all this at him.”

“Are you telling me how to raise my son, Ms Y/L/N?” Naomi spat and Lucia looked at her feet. “I want you to call the authorities, call the press, pack your bags and leave before they get here.”

“Leave?” Lucia gasped. “But- but I have nowhere to go. And my daughter-“

“That is my final order.” Naomi said, pointing her finger towards the door.

♡

Maxwell took a sip of his now cold espresso, it left a sour taste in his mouth. He reopened his newspaper and shook off his mother’s words.

“Maxie,” Barbara Minerva’s voice made Maxwell jump. She had the same effect on him as his mother did. She called his name again before finding him still sat at the breakfast bar.

“Barbara what are you doing here?” Maxwell sighed, feeling slightly uneasy at the way her diamond engagement ring glinted in the white lights of his kitchen. “You know not to come to my penthouse uninvited.”

“Your mother faxed me. She’s called the tabloids again… anonymously, of course. The press are going to be waiting for us at the Plaza restaurant on Sunday. She wants us to officially announce the engagement.” Barbara smiled, wrapping her arms around Maxwell and pressing a kiss into his jaw.

“Don’t.” Maxwell said, shuddering away from her. “You don’t touch me. Don’t kiss me. Just. Don’t.” Maxwell was filled with the regret of getting intimate with Barbara, his secretary, in his office the night before. Now Barbara was overstepping her boundaries. She might have been engaged to Maxwell, but he did not tolerate any physical affection from her unprompted. If this is what love was, Max didn’t understand what all the fuss was about. He was still cold, and still miserable.

Naomi had set Barbara and Maxwell up and within three months they were already engaged. Barbara was truly smitten with Maxwell. He had everything she wanted; money, fame, power and fortune… and Barbara was certainly beautiful, but Maxwell had never really considered marriage. Not since he was a child and used to dream of marrying the little girl who lived in his guest house.

“Max.” Barbara had been chanting her fiancée’s name for the past couple of minutes. It seemed like Maxwell was in his own little world.

“Yeah. We can’t go to the Plaza on Sunday.” Max shook his head, standing up and fixing his tie.

“What?”

“I have a lot to do. Gotta prepare for my meeting with Bruce Wayne for a start. Do you have my schedule for Monday?”

“Max, I’m only your secretary when I’m at work…” Barbara reminded the CEO. “We haven’t been on a date in so long. I know this is your mother’s doing but please… I want the world to know I’m going to be the future Mrs Lord.”

Maxwell stared at his bride-to-be for a few moments before letting out another deep sigh. “Okay,” he agreed. “Come on. You can share a ride with me. Don’t want to be late for work.”

♡

“Mom! I’m home!” you called as you entered your Gotham apartment, throwing your keys on the counter and gently placing the brown paper bag of medication down. “You won’t believe who came into the shop and asked me out on a date.”

Your eyes caught on to your mother, Lucia, who was laying on the sofa, sleeping. Her chest was rattling as it heaved up and down. She looked even worse than she did before you left her to go to work that morning. You walked into the kitchen and took a towel, running it under the tap to dampen it. You brought it back into the living room and placed it gently on your mother’s forehead hoping to cool her down. You brought her a glass of ice, knowing it would have melted into water by the time she wakes up, and a bottle of pills, putting it near her on the coffee table. You gave her a gentle kiss, kicked off your shoes and entered your bedroom.

Sitting on the edge of your bed, you looked at your reflection in your full length mirror and began fumbling with your fingers. How could you possibly prepare yourself for a date with Bruce Wayne?

♡♡♡ TAGLIST ♡♡♡

@mrschiltoncat​ @seasonschange-butpeopledont​ @thisisthe-way​ @phoenixhalliwell​ @buckysalefty​ 

#maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #max lord x reader #max lord

[atendersun-archived]

muu and hannah

did I have to send this to myself because some brat @kannojo wouldn't send it to me herself? yes. I do what I want

ship meme ! / Accepting

Muu & Hannah

001. .   .   .   kills the spider

If he is feeling brave, and the little bugger is not incredibly large or dangerous looking, the animal activist in Muu will typically lead him to taking the arachnids outside via the cup and paper method rather than outright kill them. If it looks giant and mean, however, then it is left fully in the responsibility of Hannah to dispose of.

002. .   .   .   proposed

Seeing as these two definitely do not fit the stereotypes associated with the majority of all heterosexual couples seeing as she is much more secure and capable of speaking on what it is she wants and needs, whereas Muu is far more soft spoken in those regards, it would not be unexpected for Hannah to actually pop the question instead of him. In true Muu like fashion, though, he definitely waited a few weeks down the line to do something very special for her to return the favor. He also has taken to calling her wife well before the actual ceremony has taken place because he is That kind of husband.

003.  .   .   .   kissed the other first

Hannah. Although unable to place in his head the first time they truly kissed, he can, however, recall the various different kinds of kisses between them. From the chaste press of lips to cuts and scrapes developed in their youth, to those far more adult in their meaning as they are shared between them in the heat of passion. They are definitely the couple that kiss constantly throughout the day, because if not, one or both of them would surely die from a lack of consistent affection.

004.  .   .   .   initiates things

Muu. As much as he is quite frankly the more submissive partner in terms of personality and method of intimacy, he still puts forth a lot of effort into suggesting things they ought to do between them in order to make sure that it isn't just Hannah putting in all the work into their relationship. What also plays a big part in in it is obviously his timid ways, so it is often the safety method to allow him to come to her than the other way around just in case should unintentionally startle him. Though, what he doesn't really know is that she often has figured him out before he even has to say anything, so those times she does initiate anything emotional, romantic, or physical between them, it is because she sensed a mile away he was needing it.

005.  .   .   .   would leave the other

In the past, it would have most definitely been Muu. Not out of anything heartbreaking like cheating, or wanting to reestablish and old fling, but more for the reason of wanting to focus on his mental health for the sake of being more emotionally available for a deeper relationship like she deserves. This is less of a concern in the present obviously since this lady has already dealt with him at the height of his depression, as well as his stupidity, so there is nothing else that can really be so much of a shock that she'd be better off leaving at this point.

006.  .   .   .   is more jealous

Hannah. Granted, in the event that Hannah were ever in a situation in which she was surrounded by eligible bachelors trying to win her affection, would Muu be a tad upset? Yes, but he also both trusts and knows Hannah can very hold her own in those circumstances that he is more prone to letting those kinds of feelings roll off his back long before they even settle in the front of his mind. Hannah, on the other hand, is well aware of how much people attempt to take advantage of her man that she doesn't take it nearly as lightly when people overstep their boundaries with Muu. Plus, she had to spend years listening in as the man she loved talk about Akatsuki over, and over again, so I would say she earned the right to be jealous time to time.

007.  .   .   .   is lazier

For the most part, neither. Muu for example is always on the move as he goes from job to sometimes therapy, only to come home and do a bulk of the meal planning for the week on account of the fact that he takes a lot of pride in making sure everyone in the household is getting an adequate amount of organic fruits and vegetables throughout the day. He also very much so enjoys cleaning simply out of regards of wanting to make sure Hannah has less she on her plate. Even in the case of sex it can be a toss up, because there are times he wants to do all the work he can to make sure she just has the opportunity to do no more than just enjoy the experience, whereas other times he frankly earns the title of being regarded as a pillow princess.

008.  .   .   .   sends weird texts at 3 AM

Muu. The man has insomnia and will gladly forward her the most random messages related to anything from dreams to memes he saw online. Most of the time it is definitely a tiktok though.

009.   .   .   .  is more experienced

One would think that Muu would be after the multiple, yet failed, relationships he had back to back for some time, but the reality of that is how much of his experience was rooted in shame and being provided the bare minimum. The real answer is that they are actually becoming more experienced at things with each other than either of them may have attempted to have been with other partners. They're pretty much down to try anything just as long as they can call each other their firsts.

010.   .   .   .  said i love you first

Hannah. She also says it far more frequently than he does as well. When he does initiate expressing that kind of communication between them, though, it is typically always attached to a very well thought out gesture in order to really solidify the fact that he means it and not that he is just saying it.

#mason&hannah

[meikos-realm]

A semi-normal day for Lunar

Still suffering from PTSD Lunar tends not to sleep very well, as a result she is up quite early or just straight up doesn't sleep for 2-3 days at a time.

At around 6-7 AM she will head outside to re-fill various water and food bowls for the animals living behind her home, following that she will have a look through some of the flowers to find ones that she can cut and take back inside to put in a vase next to a picture of her grandmother.

"I still miss you grandma, I only hope you can forgive me for what I did..." Lunar looks rather forlorn knowing what she did will be taken to her grave. "Who am I kidding, I am going to hell for this." A pained expression on her face as she heads to the kitchen, trying to keep her routine somewhat intact.

Turning both her kettle and radio on to try and hide the defaning silence in the room as she heads back to her room to get changed and semi-ready for school that day, returning when the kettle has boiled to make herself a cup of tea in an attempt to pull herself together for the day ahead. Whilst waiting for her drink to cool down she will make herself a simple breakfast just enough to state her hunger until lunch time.

"I'm not that hungry this morning, I could get away with packing light today." She looks through her cupboards to put herself a lunch together for the day, unbeknownst to most she brings extra food for those that can't afford lunch or don't have a lot to eat. She picks up some of her share items looking at them. "Grandma did always say I should help those less fortunate." She smiles putting them with her lunch so she can grab them and go when she needs to.

Sometimes in the morning a song will come on that Lunar loves to sing and dance to, a bit of a somber track in the form of Mademoiselle Noir, or maybe a rock ballad, something like You're gonna go far kid, or if she is feeling pretty sentimental that day she will turn the radio off and play a the Huntress' Lullaby, a song her grandmother sang to her as a tyke. Somber or not these help her prepare for the day, especially if she is the bully target of the day. Those that know her will know when she has had a good morning because during the day as she walks through the halls she will hum the tune she had attached to that morning. Its more worrying when she is silent, usually an indication of nightmares or just a generally bad day.

Cracking her neck and having a good stretch she packs her bag and gets ready to head off to school, maybe shopping at a shop first to pick up a drink. As she heads towards the door she takes her mask off the wall and puts it in the front of her bag and grabs her helmet, styled after Celty's from Durarara, putting that on before heading out the door to her bike, a small 125, just enough to get her around where she needs to go, considering she lives quite out the way.

Starting the engine she sits for a moment listening to the engine noise before heading off towards the school, stopping off at a shop on her way to pick up a few drinks and an energy drink to get her through the day. Arriving at school she locks her bike up and heads in finding an empty bathroom to change her helmet out for her mask. Occasionally she will stare at her reflection in her helmet before donning her mask.

"Tch..." She gently traces the scar with her fingers letting out a long drawn out sigh before putting her mask on and heading to her locker to put her helmet away. Wondering through the halls she heads for the roof as she arrived quite early as per usual. Looking out at the still rising sun during the winter, or enjoying the gentle warmth during the summer she will push her mask on top of her head to drink one of her drinks. If it is quiet enough, you can sometimes hear her singing from the roof door, but the moment she hears the door lock click her mask goes back down and she stops.

Most classes go by fairly normally for her. Excelling in Maths, Art, and Design, but lagging a bit behind in English and any other subject that can't reliably be handled through calculated methods or by using her raw emotion. During breaks she has a few people she will associate with but tries not to get too close out of fear that they will either mock her or if she is overstepping boundaries unknowingly. As a result for quite a lot of breaks she will head back to the roof and sit up there to eat and unwind between classes.

At the end of the school day she will dart for a bathroom to swap back to her helmet before deciding whether or not to take a scenic route home just to enjoy the day a little more, or to head straight home to get a head start on any homework or games that she wants to play that day. If it's a Friday she will drop by a garden centre for some food and seed for the animals before heading home.

Getting home she will put her bike away and head in, taking her helmet back off and hanging her mask back up near the door. Depending on how hungry she is, she will either start dinner immediately or head to her sofa and boot up one of her consoles that she has collected over the last few years, and play until she gets hungry.

Her stomach growls quietly. "Hmm? Oh...bollocks." Being distracted for a moment she crashed into a wall mid race, pausing her game she heads to the kitchen and gets things prepped for dinner, making it then whilst it is in the oven taking a shower and changing into her pajamas before having dinner.

After dinner she will spend a bit longer playing games before shutting the console down and putting the TV on for a while, usually falling asleep on the sofa and very rarely in her bed. The noise and light from the TV help provide some white noise for her to attempt to sleep soundly.

And that's a semi-normal day for Lunar at the moment, but who knows, maybe that will change.

#lunar #oc #ln #little nightmares #school au #poor baby #long post

[chemiste]

Foresight ~ ch.4

a/n: heyooooo, it’s chapter 4! btw, if y’all have requests send them in!!

masterlist

Once at the tour bus, you were met with various sleepy stares from a couple crew and the band members.

Sarah came up to you and basically melted into your hug, “I’m so tired…” She mumbled. You agreed with her as a crew person came up to take your suitcase and store it under the bus.

You realized there was more than once bus and wondered where you were supposed to go, “Hey Sar, do you know which bus I’m supposed to go on?” She rubbed the sleep out of her eye, “You’re probably on ours cause you’re Harry Styles ‘best friend’ right?” You nodded at her prediction and started to wonder about the friend thing.

Are we just going to pretend? Or does he actually wanna be real friends…

You were interrupted from your thoughts by Jeff tapping on your shoulder. “Good morning sunshine.” “Hey, Jeff.” “There’s an extra bed in the band’s bus you can take that one.” You gave a smile to him, “Thanks.”

Everyone climbed into their respective buses so they could start the 5-hour drive right on the dot. The bus was a lot bigger than you expected.

In the front behind the driver's seat was a long couch that sat opposite its twin couch, it the left corner close to the bus door was a tv drilled into the wall that sat diagonally. Farther back was a booth and table and then a mini kitchen on the right side. You walked farther back and saw on the left the small slide door to the bathroom and then another sliding door in the middle of the hallway opened to show the 4 sets of bunk beds, two on each side.

Each bed was covered with a curtain you could pull back. All of the beds thankfully, had their curtains open so you could see which one would most like be yours. It was the last bottom bed on the left side, it was the only one that didn’t have any pictures stuck on the walls inside around the tiny windows. One bed had fairy lights taped to the ceiling and another had a poster of Fleetwood Mac.

Putting down your backpack, you sat down onto the teal duvet that was too soft to be real.

“Innit comfy? 100% Egyptian Cotton.” You looked up to find a very cozy looking boy. Harry was wearing grey sweatpants and a tour hoodie.

His hair was sticking out from different angles and you could see the faint shadow of a beard growing. “Hi Harry, how are you feeling?” You asked as he sat down on the bed across from yours and started to take off his shoes.

“I’ll be better once we’re on the road.” Something about this tone made you wonder if he had a rough night but you didn’t ask anything else as the engine started up and the rest of the band came into the sleeping area to try and sleep the whole trip to Amsterdam.

Someone hit the lights off as the bus started to move and everyone’s curtains closed sans yours and Harry’s. You pulled your noise-canceling headphones you’d gotten as a present from a friend the year before and connected it to your phone to play some tunes to drown out the hum of the engine.

Little streams of light flashed in from your tiny window every so often so you pulled the black-out blinds shut and climbed into the XL twin bed.

You gave a little wave to Harry who had set up with a book and closed your curtain to try and sleep.

At some point on the drive, one of the turns the tour bus had taken jostled you awake. You pulled your blinds up a tiny bit to see that the sun was just breaking over the horizon.

You pulled your headphones off and took your hair down to brush through with your fingers. You contemplated going back to sleep but decided not to so you could enjoy the sunrise as you rode through the lovely landscape of Europe. You closed your blinds again and pulled back your curtains to get out of bed.

What surprised you was the bed across from you was empty, the curtain pulled back all the way and the conformer kicked down towards the end of the bed. After glancing around to see all the others were closed, you tiptoed out of the corridor and slipped out the sliding door, softly closing it behind you.

“Wha ’re doin’ up so early?

A British voice asked as you turned around to see the man of the hour sprawled out on the left side couch with a bowl of oatmeal in hand.

You padded over to the opposite couch and sat down into it, admiring how it swallowed you up.

Sorta like the cat bus in Totoro…

“Just got jostled awake by a turn, I wanted to watch the sunrise.” He hummed at your response and took a scoop of oatmeal.

You glanced over your shoulder to see the horizon painted with rays of yellow, orange, and peach.

“Sorta looks like a Sunflower doesn’t it?” You said aloud to him, still watching the new bursts of light dance around on the land below it. You heard the tap in the kitchen run and looked to see Harry rinsing out his empty bowl.

“Why are you up so early?” You finally asked, after swaying between thinking it might overstep boundaries or not. He shrugged and sat down, this time sitting on your couch. He rested an arm on the backrest and watched the road.

“Not sleeping well I guess.” You didn’t say anything, just watched out the window with him, not wanting to scare him if he decided to elaborate.

After a few minutes, he finally did. “I had a phone call last night that I wasn’t expecting and it just, messed with my head. Didn’t sleep very well s’all.”

Frankly, you didn’t know what position you were in to give advice but he seemed pretty torn up so you decided to give it a go.

“When I get into an argument with someone, I try and think of the qualities of them that I love them for and try to see my side from their point of view. Sometimes it infuriates me to the core cause I can’t see a different version of the story than mine, but once I do its easier to work things out cause then I can address the points that, if I were in their shoes, would upset me.”

He didn’t say anything, so you continued. “But Harry,” you put a hand on his shoulder and he turned his face ever so slightly to look at you, “remember that sometimes the other side of the argument may not be true and you can’t do anything about it. So if you can’t do anything to change it, don’t let yourself be consumed by it.”

You cracked a small smile, “Plus lavender and chamomile tea always put my mind at ease and it’s easier to sleep after a cuppa I think.”

The conversation ended without his response because Mitch and Sarah came into the main space to make coffee and breakfast. While the three musicians chatted, you slipped back into the cabin to grab your toothbrush and went into the bathroom to brush your teeth and do other things. You curled your eyelashes again, just in case.

After putting your makeup bag back in your backpack, you pulled your laptop out and sat down on your bed after pulled the blinds up. You didn’t get under the covers because it started to get warm in the bus.

“Clare?” The woman in question looked down at you from the top bunk that sat diagonally opposite yours. “Is there wifi on the bus?” She smiled and answered. “Ya, connect to the router ‘only’ and type in for the password ‘angel’.”

You snorted at the namesake of both titles and gave her a thanks. You opened your email account and sent an email to both of your college profs to plead to ask to transfer your work online.

Hello prof!

So, a situation has occurred and I’m going now to be in Europe for the next month. Is there any way I would be able to transfer my classes online for the time being?

Let me know what actions I need to take.

Y/N L/N

After re-reading it a couple times, you sent it off just to get out there before class was supposed to start again.

For the next two hours, you went over the syllabus and tried to find things you’d be able to write about or take pictures of incase your teachers needed a bit more convincing.

You had pulled out your camera and were looking through some of the recent pictures of Europe you had taken for the extra credit assignment your photography teacher had given you when Harry walked back into the sleeping area.

He sat on his bed and pulled his feet into a crisscross applesauce position.

“You’re a photographer?” He inquired. You glanced up at him for a moment and then looked back down in concentration on the picture in front of you and the screen of your laptop.

“Yeah, for class.—Damn, I don’t think this photo qualifies.” “Huh?” Harry hopped off his bed and peaked down to what you were looking at.

“Scoot over.” “What?”

He rolled his eyes are you and squished onto the bed with you. “What are you working on?” He asked with what looked like, honest interest. It surprised you a bit, since why would he care?

He could be doing so many, probably more important things on the ride than sitting with me.

“Well, I’m taking a photography class in college, one of my last actually. I did dual credit classes in high school and only needed a few to technically graduate with my degree.”

“Wha’s your degree ’n?”

“Photography and Media Arts with a minor in Creative Writing.”

He blew a larger breath out and sat back against the pillows you propped up against the wall, “That’s a mouthful innit?”

You smiled and held the camera up a bit to zoom into the picture. “I love it, I actually take photos for a few companies in New York which is exciting. It’ll help that I already have clients leaving college.”

“Where do you go to college?” “NYU.” “Very cool aren’t yeh?” You pushed a strand of hair behind your ear and smiled at the compliment. “So what’s wrong with the picture?” He asked.

“I’m working on an assignment—” “during spring break?!” “—an extra credit assignment, and basically for each of these words I need a picture that correlates to it. The crossed off ones I’ve already completed.”

Harry leaned forward to read the words off your laptop.

Extra Credit Work

Please take photos over this month and relate at least one picture to each word below. Each picture is worth 10 points. You can add a caption about the picture to help it associate in need.

Joy

Sour

Chaos

Silly

Bright

Anguish

Erotic

Heavenly

Red

Enigma

Due May 1st.

“This is the photo I wanted to use for Joy but I don’t know if it's too generic or not.”

You gave him the camera, the photo was of Maggie on the first day in Paris. She was leaning backwards, looking at the Eiffel Tower.

“See, you can’t see her face, which is okay but the body isn’t giving that much expression either so I’m not sure if it will come off as stiff or not.”

He spent a few more moments looking at the picture and then the word. “I think it represents joy perfectly.”

You tilted your head and gave a quizzical expression.

“Look,” he started, “your definition of joy is different from someone else, right? But it’s easier to see that the focus of the photo is in a carefree state, leanin’ back, hair down. An’ I don’t think her body is stiff, ’t’s just relaxed. You can add a caption too if you want right? Maybe add somethin' like, the true feeling of joy ’s when you can finally throw your head back an’ not worry about hittin a wall or som’hin like that.”

He handed you the camera back and you looked at the picture again with a different view on it. “Wow—thank you, that’s honestly just what I needed to hear.” He looked down to his fingers, “can say the same fo’ this morin’, thank you fo’ that.”

Close it quickly Y/N….

Close them…huh?

“Blinds!”

Someone yelled from the main corridor. Harry jumped up from the bed and you pulled your blind shut as he pulled his shut and checked the others.

“Wha’ is it?!” He yelled into the other room, you trailed behind him after putting your things back into your backpack. Adam had a clicker in his hand that put down a black veil over both large windows in the main compartment.

“This bus has blacked-out windows, why the veils?” You asked.

“Cause if fans come up to the bus with a flash camera, it can still take a picture of the inside, this way the veil blocks it out.” The veils still allowed you to see through them sorta and you gasped at the sight before you. It seemed as though hundreds of people had mobbed the as the bus was trying to drive through.

“We’re in Amsterdam.” You stated.

 “Yeah,” Mitch replied, “seems as though the fans were tipped off of which hotel we’re staying in or something.” After hearing that, the whole room filled with a slight tension that caused you back to ache.

Clare glanced at her phone, “Jeffery is telling us to brace ourselves cause the hotel doesn’t have a private entrance we could drive through, we’re gonna have to go through the crowd.” The band dispersed to get their stuff.

As you packed up, Harry’s phone started to ring.

“Yeh? Mhm, yeah—fuck you’r right.” The British heartthrob turned to look at you which made you wonder who he was talking to.

“Will do, bye.” He ended the call and took his black hoodie off.

“Give me your sweatshirt, Jeff says we’ve got to make sure you don’t draw too much attention to yourself cause we don’t want a riot since we don’t ‘ave security wit’ us.”

You nodded and shrugged off the pink long sleeve. Once you got the hoodie over your head, you noticed how it engulfed you slightly.

“Got any sunnies?”

You pulled some out from a case in your bag and slipped them on. “We’re as close to the door as we can get, it’s time to go!”

Sarah called out to the band. “Hold you’r backpack in your hand, don’t want them to grab the handle and yank you back.” You only nodded and tied your tennis shoes before following the rest of them out to the door.

“Ready? Open, open, open!”

<3

masterlist

#harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles series #harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles tour 2018 #harry styles concert #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic

[anubislover]

Siblings Lost and Found

(Ikkaku's been the Heart Pirates' mechanic for a year, but is she just another one of Law's subordinates, or does she mean more? Special thanks (and blame) to @shambledsurgeon for suggesting this idea and @scribblrhob for suggesting the song "In My Life" by The Beatles for maximum feels. Any tears are their fault)

It was well past midnight when Ikkaku’s shift was finally over. Clione as he come to relieve her, and she couldn’t be more grateful. In the year since she’d become the Heart Pirates’ mechanic, she’d discovered that life on the high seas wasn’t always as exciting as it sounded.

In fact, with the ocean so calm and little more to be seen beyond schools of fish and the occasional shark, it was hard to stay awake and focused. She’d resorted to drinking three cups of coffee and playing with her hair, braiding and straightening until finally settling on a pair of simple pigtails, mostly for the sake of getting her thick locks off the back of her neck. The Polar Tang had been underwater for a while, so it was stuffy and humid—Bepo would start complaining soon, and Law would have to agree to surface.

Thinking about the poor Mink, Ikkaku decided to take a detour to the library. Aside from the operatory and the morgue, it was the room with the best air conditioning and Bepo could sometimes be found bunked up in there if his quarters became too hot. If he were awake, maybe she’d sit up with him for a bit; with all the caffeine in her system, she knew she wouldn’t be drifting off anytime soon.

The library was in fact occupied, but not by who she’d expected. Slumped over one of the tables was Law, medical books and papers scattered beneath him. He’d been suffering another bout of insomnia for the past week, but normally when he was like that, he spent his nights in the lab or his office.

Must be avoiding Shachi and Penguin’s hovering, she thought, shaking her head. When the captain got like this, those two always went out of their way to try to force him to take care of himself. As much as Law griped about it being insubordination, she was positive he secretly appreciated it; after all, they were two of his closest friends. Practically his brothers.

She wished her own brothers had been like that.

Ikkaku quietly crept into the room to lower the lights—Law must have been truly exhausted to have fallen asleep while working. She briefly wondered if she should wake him long enough to help him move to the couch, but she decided against it—he’d suffer some nasty neck cramps in the morning, but it was better than disturbing his much-needed rest.

When she tried to remove the pen from his hand, however, Law stirred. Ikkaku froze, half crouched above him, silently praying that he hadn’t awoken. She was close enough that, even in the dim light, she could see the way his face scrunched up. Was he dreaming? She could see his eyes darting about under his eyelids, as if searching for something, and his breath came out in shuddering little gasps.

Law was surrounded by choking death. White hospital walls were engulfed in flame and crumbling around him as he ran through the winding, labyrinthine halls.

Mother and father were dead. The soldiers were killing everyone they saw. Flevance was in ruins. It was hot and everything reeked of smoke, blood, and stinking death. Wide, lifeless eyes stared at him in cold judgement as he sprinted past crumpled corpses.

You told her to stay put, they whispered maliciously. This is your fault.

No. He’d told her to hide in the closet for just a few minutes. He’d always intended to come back for her. He didn’t mean to leave his sister behind. He thought she’d be safe!

He had to get to Lamie!

There! The closet was straight ahead! He could hear Lamie inside, screaming for her big brother to save her.

He flung open the door only to find a woman with dark, curly hair and a bandana staring up at him instead.

“Law, it’s me…”

Taking in his pained and panicked expression, it was clear that Law was in the clutches of a pretty intense nightmare, and Ikkaku wasn’t the kind of woman who stood idly by while her captain was suffering.

Grateful that he didn’t have Kikoku on him to slice her to bits if he woke up in a hostile mood, she grabbed his shoulder and shook hard. “Law, it’s me. Hey, wake up!”

“Lamie?” he asked, eyes bleary and unfocused.

“Law, what’s—” Ikkaku started, only for her captain to grab her shoulder and pull her in for a hug. Immediately, she stiffened. Law was not a hugger. Sure, on good days he deigned to be hugged—mostly by Bepo—but he wasn’t the sort to initiate platonic, physical displays of affection.

“You’re ok,” he gasped. He squeezed her tightly and buried his head in her shoulder, breathing deeply. She didn’t smell like smoke or sickness or death.

She smelled like engine oil and coffee, though, with a hint of ginger lotion underneath. Scents that could never be associated with Lamie.

Reluctantly, he became aware of his surroundings. He wasn’t in the charred remains of the hospital. Wasn’t surrounded by the bodies of his friends and family, or soldiers pointing guns at him.

He was in his ship’s library, alone with his mechanic, who was staring at him in shock because he was practically crushing her to his chest.

Law mentally berated himself as he pushed Ikkaku away, brain finally catching up to his body. He’d fallen asleep, had a nightmare, and like some frightened child had latched onto the first person he saw upon being awoken. Disgusting, uncaptainlike behavior that never should have been witnessed by his subordinate.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes while trying to play it cool to retain some dignity. “I…thought you were someone else.”

“Someone named Lamie,” Ikkaku pressed, taking the seat beside him and reaching for his hand. “Law, please; I know I’ve only been around for a year, but if something’s bothering you—”

“It’s nothing.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Bullshit. ‘Nothing’ doesn’t cause nightmares. You can talk to me.”

“Fine, it’s not nothing, but it’s none of your damn business,” he growled, refusing to look at her. He felt irrationally angry; in his dream, he’d been so close to saving his sister, only for Ikkaku to replace her. Then, upon awakening, he’d had a faint moment of delusional hope that maybe Lamie really was alive, only to be replaced again.

Ikkaku recoiled, his harsh tone stinging as much as his words. It wasn’t any of her business because she was just his subordinate. Yet despite his creepy and sadistic tendencies, over the past year, she’d grown attached to him. He was caring and honorable and protective; everything she’d wished her brothers had been. In fact, she’d started to wonder if he felt a hint of brotherly affection towards her; he never seemed to give her more than a slap on the wrist for backtalk. Was quick to scare off unsavory men in taverns. Trusted her judgement when it came to the submarine’s engine, even though she’d been just an apprentice mechanic when he’d hired her.

Clearly, she’d looked too deeply into his actions. He tolerated her sass because he was too busy to reprimand her. Protected her because he couldn’t risk something happening to his mechanic. Accepted her input because he didn’t know enough to contradict her.

Ikkaku wasn’t anything special to him. Everything he did was for practical reasons.

Pulling away before she broke her own heart, she grumbled, “Fine, but I’m telling Penguin about this. You need to talk to someone, and if you don’t trust me—”

“I trust you,” Law stated, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, brow furrowed in confusion.

“You trust me to keep the Tang sailing. To tell you if the engine needs repairs or if there’s a maintenance issue. To have your back in a fight. You trust me like any captain should trust his subordinate.” As she stood up, she forced a smile; something she hadn’t had to do since joining his crew. “That’s the kind of trust that matters, right? That we both know how to do our jobs and keep each other alive on the treacherous, unforgiving sea. Anything else…well that’s just gravy, right?” Despite herself, her lip quivered slightly, forcing her to pretend to organize some of the books on the table so he wouldn’t see her moment of weakness.

From his seat, Law stared at her. In the year she’d been onboard, he’d determined his mechanic to be reckless, outspoken, and loyal. Compassionate to those she considered friends. Genuine. Determined. Intelligent. Vibrant.

Everything he’d imagined his sister would become.

Coming to a decision, Law grabbed Ikkaku’s forearm to get her attention. “Lamie…Lamie was my sister. She died in a hospital fire when I was a kid.”

“Oh gods,” Ikkaku whispered, free hand covering her mouth in horror.

“She wore pigtails,” he admitted, glancing at the twin bunches of hair. “Some days, it’s hard to remember her face, but I can always picture those.”

“I…shit, Law, I’ll take them out,” she offered, immediately reaching up to release the ties.

“Don’t. It’s fine. It just confused me. In the dream, I was searching for her. Everyone else was dead, and the hospital was burning all around me, but I had to find her. I’d told her to hide in a closet while I went to find mother and father, but they were already dead—”

“It’s ok,” she whispered, instinctively sitting back down so she could pull him into a hug. “You don’t need to tell me. I’m…that wasn’t your fault.” No wonder he was so reluctant to let people in. She’d heard about things like survivor’s guilt, and Bepo had implied that he’d lost a lot of people in his short life.

Ikkaku suddenly felt guilty for overstepping her boundaries. She should have let him come to her when he was ready instead of forcing her way in. Hell, she shouldn’t even be hugging him without permission!

But when she tried to pull away, she felt Law’s hand on her back, refusing to let her move an inch.

“You…make me miss her less. Her smile always brightened up the room. When she was sick, I spent a lot of my free time trying to cheer her up. To make her laugh. Sometimes, when you laugh, I close my eyes and pretend it’s hers. That I hadn’t failed, and she’d grown up to become a smart, vibrant young woman like you.”

Ikkaku worried her lip, mulling over his words and debating how she should respond. He’d opened up to her. Trusted her as more than a subordinate. She was something special to him.

He deserved to know she felt the same.

“Law, I…I grew up with four older brothers. All of them were dicks who wanted nothing to do with me. They’d cut my hair off, break my stuff, mock me for wanting to be a mechanic—hell, they once tried to abandon me in the woods.” She looked up at him with a small, sad smile. “So believe me when I say you didn’t fail. You did everything you could. Lamie was damn lucky to have such a loving, protective big brother.”

Law’s heart clenched. Honestly, he’d felt guilty, pushing his feelings for his sister onto Ikkaku. Partially because he felt like he was replacing Lamie; like he was trying to erase his mistakes. And partially because he knew it was unfair to Ikkaku. She deserved to be appreciated for herself, not as some substitute for a girl who died years ago.

But…she didn’t seem to mind. Considering her own brothers, perhaps Ikkaku had secretly appreciated those moments where he’d been a bit overprotective, or unconsciously spoiled her in some way. Perhaps Lamie would even approve of this coping mechanism. Perhaps his subconscious had put her in his dream to show him that, while it was too late for his sister, there was another girl he could still protect.

Such thoughts were better analyzed when he was less tired.

Arm dropping from its place at her back, he pulled away from the embrace. “Help me get to my quarters. Penguin will bitch for hours if he finds out I fell asleep in the library again.”

“Sure thing, Boss,” Ikkaku said, tugging him to his feet. It seemed their little moment was over, but she didn’t mind, especially if it meant Law would actually get some rest. “Want me to call Bepo? He’d be happy to let you use him as a pillow.”

“No. He needs his rest. We’ll surface first thing in the morning—the sub’s getting too stuffy.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, wrapping one of his long arms around her shoulders to better support his lethargic body as they walked down the hall in comfortable silence.

When they arrived at his quarters, she asked, “Sure you don’t need anything? I drank too much coffee, so I’ll be awake for a while. I could clean up the library, or—”

“If you want to help…” Law trailed off, hesitating. He internally debated voicing his request before finally swallowing his pride. “Stay with me a bit. To make sure I actually do fall back asleep. If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Yeah. Sure, I can do that,” she said with a surprised smile.

Stepping aside, he let her into the room. “Just so you know, if you tell anyone about this, I’ll cut out your tongue and preserve it in formaldehyde.”

Her grin sharpened into something a bit more teasing. Ah, there was the creepy captain she knew and loved. “As if anyone would believe that the big, bad Surgeon of Death needed someone to hold his hand and scare the nightmares away.”

“I never asked you to hold my hand.”

She giggled before dragging his desk chair over to his bed while he kicked off his shoes and crawled under the covers.

“Did you check under the bed for monsters?” he asked dryly, a hint of his sarcastic smirk lifting his lips.

She rolled her eyes. “Please, like there’s anything scarier than you on this ship.”

“Damn straight,” he replied, letting out a jaw-cracking yawn. His eyes drooped a bit as his head sank into the pillow. “Know any lullabies?”

“A few. You really want one?”

“Could be nice, especially if it’s the last time I hear your voice should you not manage to keep your mouth shut about this.”

Sniggering, Ikkaku tousled his hair before clearing her throat, softy singing as her captain gradually drifted off.

“Though I know I'll never lose affection For people and things that went before I know I'll often stop and think about them In my life I love you more.”

END

#trafalgar D. Water Law #one piece ikkaku #ikkaku one piece #ikkaku and law #ikkaku #heart pirates #trafalgar law #family feels #family of choice #nakama #heart siblings #trafalgar lami #one piece fanfic #one piece fanfiction #op fanfiction #op fanfic #hurt/comfort fic #sibling feels

[allthethingamabobs]

family sticks together, bruh

Notes: I was re-watching the Bay-verse movies and suddenly got irritated at the no last name thing at the end of the second one. April O'Neil was right there. Their ride-or-die, their badass older sister, their hogosha. So here's my first contribution to the TMNT fandom. I literally wrote this in half a day, so if you see any writing errors all I gotta say is...my bad. Enjoy the found family fluff!

Rating: G

Also on AO3.

April figured it all started with a package hastily stuffed in her mailbox. It was barely small enough to fit, wrapped in that tough paper-cardboard material, and took a few careful pulls to get out. She couldn’t recall ordering anything recently, so the least she could do was try not to destroy what was most likely her neighbor’s mail. But when she flipped it over for the addressee, she was surprised to see “Mikey O’Neil” on it.

April and her “childhood pets” had been reunited four months back now, and it continued to throw her life upside down. A happy upside down, though. Those two names together were doing a number on the loner habits she’d built up since her father’s death. Apparently, all it took was four mutant teenagers and their father to start breaking down those walls.

She snapped a photo of the package and sent it to Mikey as she walked up to her apartment. Her phone lit up with a video chat request seconds later. The boys were just like any other teens when there weren’t bad guys to fight—they loved texting (on their one-of-a-kind turtle phones), sending her snaps, and video chatting whenever they could. April supposed that 15 years alone in a sewer could make one a little starved for new attention, and she was always happy to talk.

One of Mikey’s eyes filled the screen first, and then his grinning face when he pulled back. “You got it!” he hollered.

There was a thump from somewhere behind him, and Leo yelled something about peace and quiet when meditating. Then all she could see was a blurry carapace as Mikey quickly escaped to some other part of the lair. “You got it!” he cheered again, down to a whisper-yell.

“Sure did,” she answered with a smile, while making sure her apartment door locked behind her. “A little heads up would be nice, though. People do steal packages.”

“Man, that would’ve been no bueno. It has my name on it and everything.”

She shrugged—it was New York, what could she say. “About that… Mikey O’Neil, huh?”

He brightened. “Yeah! Makes sense, right? You’ve always been family even if we got separated for like, way too long, and who wouldn’t want to be a badass O’Neil?”

“Hm.” Her smile was fond even as she bit her lip to keep herself from doing something dramatic like tearing up. “You make some excellent points.”

Mikey nodded, seemingly proud of his reasoning. “You get me, April. So when are you gonna come hang out?”

“Not until tomorrow at least.” She set the phone on the counter as she turned to mess with the oven dials. “I’ve got to eat, and then a grimy bathroom and donation boxes are calling my name.”

Two weeks ago, a great aunt she hadn’t talked to since her father’s funeral had passed away and apparently left her succession rights to a New York miracle: a rent-controlled apartment above a quiet antique store. It was a dated unit and still smelled a bit like old people, but she was making it work.

A whine came from her phone. “Aw, shell… Oh, hey! We could help! Four mutants and a human are better than one!”

“That’s sweet, Mikey, but I’ve got this.” Plus, she was starting to pick up the brother’s dynamics. That visit would devolve into complete chaos in no time, given the cluttered mess. There were a lot of breakable objects she was still in the process of either packing up or donating.

“Your loss, Ape. Guess we’ll see you tomorrow.” He got up close to the camera again and whispered dramatically, “You’ll bring the package, right?”

She snorted and leaned over so he could see her face. “Pinky swear.”

“I don’t have a pinky, so I’ll have to believe you. Bye, April!”

The screen went blank, and April had a glimpse of herself in the reflection. She had to admit… her smile looked a lot more genuine these days.

In work news, however, life had been a lot of sucking up to Bernadette and the team after getting her job back, so she didn’t get down to the lair until late in the evening. Entering through the water system wasn’t exactly ideal, so they’d built a biometric, heavily enforced door as an alternative. Leo spotted her first as she shoved her way in and waved from where he was cleaning his katanas.

The new lair seemed to change every time she visited—more light-up signs or beat-up furniture appearing—and she still felt a little guilty for being the reason behind the move. The guys had assured her that they didn’t blame her, and they were having fun with the tall ceilings and tunnels in the new space. Splinter had even claimed one to start a bonsai garden.

“Hey, April! How was your day?” Leo called, carefully setting his weapons aside to get up.

“Not too bad, mostly research on some detox craze—”

“April!?” There was a crash from the back where they had set up a gym area in an upper opening. Mikey came tumbling out, almost right on top of where Raph was exiting the lower tunnel, and he gracefully avoided retaliation. “You got the goods?”

Leo shot her a confused frown, and she answered with a fond “don’t ask” look before rummaging in her bag to pull it out. “Yes, Mikey, I have the goods.”

Mikey bounced over and pulled her into a quick, bone-crushing hug before taking the package out of her hands. He ripped into it and pulled out a gaudy gold chain that looked like it once belonged in a 2000’s music video.

“Bling, bling!” he crowed and threw the shell necklace off to be replaced.

“Wait a minute, is that what was so important you had to order it?” Donnie said as he and Raph joined the group. “That’s such a waste of money!”

“Some ninja you are,” Raph snorted. “You can see that ugly-ass chain from a mile away.”

Leo hummed at that and then frowned. “Mikey, did you even ask April if you could send that to her place before you ordered it?”

Said turtle shrugged. “I knew she wouldn’t mind.”

The others seemed to erupt at once.

“Except it’s an unknown package being sent to her place, especially with the Foot Clan knowing her association with us—”

“Even worse, it’s inconsiderate to just assume—”

“Even worse, Leo? What kind of bullshit is that—”

April was an only child (well, not so much anymore), so she wasn’t used to how quickly one small thing could turn into a full blown argument. If pushing got involved, then 6-foot mutant turtles or not, she would break up that fight—yup, there’s the shoving.

“Guys, GUYS!” April moved forward and intercepted the beginning of whatever as they all avoided bumping into her. “It’s fine. You can have stuff sent to my place, I don’t care. As long as I can get it down here.”

It took a little more convincing to assure them that no, they were not imposing on her, and then they seemed excited about this new opportunity. Apparently, they’d had to scout out addresses before and sneak the package away before the occupants realized. Obviously, this was much more convenient.

Steadily, they all started to order stuff online (with what money or credit card she had no idea) and have it sent to her place. Parts for Donnie, books for Leo, and though she only felt it through the packaging, yarn for Raph. At first, Mikey was the only one who used O’Neil for the address. Then something changed, and they all started to use it too. A package of tea addressed to Splinter O’Neil gave her a small laugh one day. Raph had been the last to address himself as O’Neil, always so stubborn, and seemed almost shy when she delivered it.

April knew she was very biased on this, having seen them as teeny-tiny babies, but her little-big brothers could be pretty adorable sometimes.

---

The last name thing had come up with Splinter one day as they sat in his quiet bonsai garden, enjoying some tea while the boys burned off energy around the rest of the lair.

“I don’t want to overstep any boundaries or anything, but I’ll admit it’s… nice. My dad was really all I had for family, so it was just us and then me for so long. It’s almost like this has all… I don’t know, come full-circle? If that makes sense?”

Splinter smiled and reached out to lay his hand on hers.

“I was not lying when I said I modeled my parenting after your father. One way or another, you both cared for this family, and you know we consider you a part of it.” April nodded, a little choked up, and grasped his hand. He’d said it himself, but she wasn’t ready to fully relive how Splinter felt so familiar, so comforting.

“Besides,” he continued with a chuckle. “Michelangelo has quite enjoyed having a last name, and I think the others were a bit hesitant before they saw that you didn’t mind.”

“Of course not, I’m all for it,” April laughed, wiping under her eyes. “Now there’s more than just me to make the O’Neil name proud.”

---

One other thing she had discovered about being a big sister to four trouble-prone teens: full names were extremely effective.

“Donatello O’Neil!” she shouted the second she stepped into the lair, and all movement ceased. Leo balanced on one foot, mid-throw, Raph was mid-swing across the lair, and Mikey had an orange soda titled towards his face, where it slowly dripped down his front.

A weak “Oh, shell” came from the direction of the lab, and she stormed over. A taunt from Mikey followed but was quickly cut off with a grunt. Donnie was hunched over his desk, head turned slightly to look up at April’s furious approach.

“Why the hell did I just find a tracker in not one but all of my jackets?” She reached into her pocket, grasped the tiny devices, and tossed them on the desk. “I almost had a panic attack thinking I was being tracked by someone else. You know that’s been one of my worst fears ever since the Shredder, and we’ve talked about privacy and emergency plans, Donnie. I have a panic button on my phone, and I gave you permission to track it when absolutely necessary.” She let out a frustrated huff, pointing at the trackers. “What. Are. These?”

He’d sputtered a bit and avoided her eyes as she spoke, but he finally looked up when she stood silent, waiting for an answer. His shoulders drooped, and he wheeled back from his desk to face her. Even sitting, Donnie was only slightly shorter than her.

“Contingency plan,” he finally bit out. “Phones are most likely the first thing a kidnapper would get rid of to avoid tracking.”

“Wh— kidnapper?” That caught her off guard, and the tension in her shoulders released a little. Was there a new danger she didn’t know about? “But who… Oh.”

Movement on his tablet drew her eye, and the footage there followed a shady van that looked very familiar.

The Foot Clan—because an organization that big could still survive with their leader in jail for a year now—had disabled her turtle-approved security system and ransacked her apartment a couple of weeks ago. The cameras from across the street told them that and how the intruders had missed April coming home by a mere 12 minutes. They had obviously been searching for something specific, and she eventually realized it must have been the box of notes from Project Renaissance. Luckily, they had been stored in the lair for safe keeping.

After coming home to that mess, April called Donnie right away and started packing up her necessities. All four of the turtles had met her at her usual sewer entrance, and they formed a tense detail on the trip back. She worked out-of-office that week as she laid low in the lair and waited for the all-clear while they doubled up her apartment’s security. Splinter and the boys were good about giving her space when she was working, but she could still feel the hovering and worry. The guys had been in and out more often, Splinter always had some tea ready for her, and she just knew there had been many hushed conversations out of earshot.

Sure, deadly henchmen being in her apartment had freaked her out, but it had really freaked out her new family. April held her own against all of the weird shit they got dragged into, but there were always reminders that she did not have a shell or ninja training; a sprained ankle, one small concussion, too many bruises to remember, and even a few less inches of hair when it got singed in an explosion.

She looked between the tablet and Donnie, but now he held his gaze steady. “The Foot know where you live, and you refuse to move. This was the best way for us to always be there when you need us.” His voice was even, calculated, but his hands were clasped tightly and one foot tapped insistently.

Oh, her sweet, overprotective boys. Under all that bullet-proof shell, they were all just teenagers who had five people in the world to call family, and they did not take that for granted.

April sighed and turned to sit against the desk, holding out one hand. Donnie took it and held on, grip tight. “It comes from a good place, Donnie, but you have to tell me about these things. Trust goes both ways, okay?”

Leo, Raph, and Mikey were hovering around the entrance to the lab, and she gave them all a stern look to reiterate her point. “I know I don’t have a shell, but I am scrappy, stubborn, and awesome at running in heels.”

“Way better than the Jurassic World chick,” Mikey piped up, and Raph lightly punched his arm.

“You’re damn right,” April answered, smiling at his effort to lighten the mood. “So I appreciate the worry, guys, but you need to talk to me. I worry, too. You might forget, but you’re not invincible.”

“Better off than you,” Raph grunted. This time Mikey punched him, not as lightly. “What, it’s true!”

April sighed. “Come on, Raph, you know muscle isn’t everything.”

“No,” he grumbled, “but you got us. Whether or not you like it, we can take the hard hits.”

“What he means to say,” Leo said, shoving Raph back with his shoulder, “is that we were worried, and we didn’t think you were taking the threat seriously enough.” Donnie’s hand gripped hers a little harder, and she looked back to see him nod in agreement. “We are sorry about the secrecy, though.”

April sighed. “Fair point. You know I love you guys,” they perked up at that, “but having back-up is kind of a new thing for me. It’s habit to go solo, and it’s habit for you four to be a team.”

She held out her other hand. Leo was closest, and he took it with some hesitation. “Still a learning process all around.”

Mikey eagerly grasped Leo’s other hand and then Raph’s, refusing to let go even as Raph gave a shake, so they were all joined. “Family sticks together, bruh.”

---

The O’Neils had been a thing for awhile now, but writing it down was very different to actually saying it outloud. Mikey had no trouble claiming his new last name, and had even dubbed some pizza monstrosity he concocted from as many toppings he could get as the “O’Neil Special.” For the others, it took some time to say it—at least when she was around to hear.

Eight months. Donnie had been talking a mile a minute about a phone meeting set up with an award-winning engineer currently teaching at NYU. He’d been given 30 minutes to ask her all the questions he wanted. April had kind of bullied Vern into setting it up with his new connections, and Donnie had asked her to be there for moral support. She assured him it was all going to go great and to just make the call already. His shoulders went rigid under her hands when the call connected. “Hi! Hello, uh, this is Donatello O’Neil, I got your number from Vern? The Falcon?” She squeezed his shoulders in comfort, grinning proudly for many reasons.

One year and 2 months. Raph had been playing a one-on-one basketball game with Donnie while April refereed. Even as the self-proclaimed muscles, Raph was agile, and he did a quick maneuver around Donnie to score a perfect 3-pointer. “And Raph O’Neil makes the shot!” he whooped, doing a quick victory dance. He didn’t seem to realize it, but April certainly did. She felt warm and fuzzy after that, so she let him get away with traveling a couple minutes later.

For Leo, it just hadn’t come up yet. Although, one day she’d been stress cleaning their mess of a kitchen, and opened one beat-up book in curiosity to see “Leonardo O’Neil” neatly written on the cover page. That was enough for her.

Then her amazing family had finally gotten the acknowledgement they so rightly deserved.

“To you, brothers. Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello, Michelangelo.” Chief Vincent paused. “Last name?”

The guys all glanced her way, and April didn’t care if her eyes were a little watery at Leo’s answer. “O’Neil.”

#tmnt #tmnt 2014 #tmnt 2016 #bayverse #tmnt bayverse #april o'neil #tmnt april #fanfic

[lonelyemosoul7]

im ready to move on, i feel it. like im slowly pulling away the strings and cutting them loose. its so relieving. idk why all of a sudden i relised this. i know i’ll miss you here and there but thats normal. 

i wont miss you, as you for a few reasons:

1. you made me feel like i was “wasting your time” sometimes. i know we weren’t dating but you had showed an interest and i was willing to see where that went. 

2. i did not like how you’d lift up my skirt. it made me very uncomfortable and reminded mo of jay, and i’m wish i had told you but i didn’t want to annoy you.

3. i did not like how you talked about fucking other girls around me, then would talk about fucking me. i think thats pretty self explanatory.  

4. i didn’t like that i felt i couldn’t express my opinion because you’d reject them.

but that is not just your fault, but both of ours. mine for not speaking up, but yours for not being open.

now reasons i’m not proud of:

1. i am not proud of myself for overstepping a boundary, and i’m sorry for that.

2. i was probably being a bit clingy but that was because i felt that something could’ve been of us and i was willing to rush into things

3. i didn’t stick up for myself, which you probably thought it was ok do to do. 

that being said i did have some good times with you.

1 i enjoyed our conversations, (most of them anyway) 

2. i enjoyed making out,

3. i appreciated how excepting and understanding you were when you fucked, and you kept asking if i was ok and made me feel very secure.

4. i enjoyed how you’d give me little kisses here and there. 

5. i appreciated that you didn’t want to fuck straight away. 

6. i appreciated that you respected that i didn’t want to send nudes and declined when i said i was drunk.

there are a lot more, but i am not here to get into the nitty gritty. i only knew someone who i met, i did not know much about you, i don’t know how much of you was you, so i can only judge you of what you told me, weather it was true or not. 

however i’m remembering you as the person i knew, and the things i have heard about you. i’ll never to look at you as “terrible,” however i will not respect or associate with you, because you have done some things that are not ok. but i will never be able to hate you. hating you is still holding you as a relevant person in my life, and your are no longer needed. i am ready to release and let you go as a person i am scared of, a person i miss, a person i love, you are simply just a memory. if i do happen to run into you, you will simply be just someone i used to know. i will not smile, wave or avoid. i have no problem with you anymore. you are no longer my concern or worry. i do hope that you find your own way and do everything you need to do, but that is no longer something i need to concern myself with. i will no longer be orientated by what you think or what you do. i am ready to work on myself, look out for myself, and move forward to accept new possibilities. 

[fineliines]

okay so before things get misconstrued, i have seen the post @pocmuzings posted and i have quite a lot to say at least to explain my side of the story. you guys can make the choice to believe me or not but everything on this post is the truth on my end. this is very long and i hope everyone takes the time to read it but it’s just a warning this is long.

first and foremost, you need to understand that i have never once in my entire life said the n word. i grew up in a household where i always knew the weight of that word and it’s heavy connotations my entire life; my mom, grandma and cousins always used the word despite being spanish because they were very racist and stereotyped the black community. i knew of that, i was young when they used the word (probably around elementary school age) and never spoke up because i was a child. however, i’ve always known it’s not the right word to say or is it my place to say it as a non-black poc. i’m unsure if the person sending the anon meant to say i was using the word or if it was my friend at the time in the post but i have never EVER said that word. i would never use that word, i’m not ignorant on it and have always known what it’s implications were.

secondly, the problematic friend in question was someone i knew in my real life. we went to high school together, we met through a mutual friend who looking back on it, that mutual friend sexually assaulted me at one point and BECAUSE of that incident and numerous other things that happened in that small friend group, i pulled away and found solace in this person. his name was cameron, he’s no longer in the rpc so i really don’t care about putting his name out there to help keep track while i write this out. to give more background on this, cameron wasn’t the kind of person i could simply “get rid of” like i could have if he’d been someone i met online. like i said, we went to high school together, we lived in the same town, we became INSEPERABLE-- i vacationed with him and his family on MULTIPLE occasions. my mom and his mom became friends, we spent holidays together, etc. this wasn’t someone i could write off. we met when i was around 15 years old and he was 17 and we stayed friends from me being 15 to around the age of me being 21... in fact, i believe our last outing together was my 21st birthday but that’s irrelevant. i am now 24. throughout the time that we were best friends, however, i got him into rping and we were in the rpc together for an extended period of time. cameron has always been extremely problematic and this was something i didn’t necessarily become aware of until later on in our friendship. we started rping together in american horror story roleplays which is where i first started and in general, those rp’s were very very problematic and dark; it was a completely different time in the rpc compared to now and i am 100% aware of that. 

cameron became notorious for causing drama wherever he went. in the ahs rp we were in, something happened between my character and someone else’s, anon hate was sent to the gossip blog or w/e about my character and it got to the point where i, myself, was being told to kill myself through anon hate because of whatever ship drama was happening. i was 15 years old and people on the internet were telling me to kill myself. cameron stepped in, defended me in the only way he knew how, started drama with the admins for not doing anything to stop the stuff being sent to me or help me and we got kicked out of the group as the solution to their problem. from that moment on, cameron simply never stopped causing problems and i often found myself getting dragged into things with him because we were friends and i stuck up for him because he usually stuck up for me. at some point as i got a little older, maybe 17/18, i can’t remember, me and him joined this subplot rp that this person who sent in the anon was running. yes, cameron and i became friends with the person, she was the admin, things were fine for a while and eventually, things in the group started getting slow so cameron wanted to leave and me, being the person i was at the time, followed him because he was my best friend. i remained somewhat friends with the anon but i always felt like things were strained between us BECAUSE cameron was always up to something; whether it was causing problems in the anon’s various groups she joined or simply leaving because he got bored or just being a general bully, befriending people and manipulating them and being ugly and problematic and racist. i can’t remember the anon ever talking to me about being uncomfortable with his actions because it was years ago and i’ll admit that at the time, it wasn’t important to me because i thought things were fine because her problems with cameron weren’t ever explicitly told TO me. i will admit that from the ages of 15-18, whenever cameron started drama or was problematic or did shitty things, i blindly followed him and never spoke up. i didn’t speak up because i felt like he helped me and defended me and PROTECTED me from my assaulter in real life and all the anon hate i got from this group that i owed him my loyalty. again, please keep in mind, i’ve been friends with him since we were both in high school, he wasn’t someone i could simply write off or get rid of at the time.

i started realizing he wasn’t a good person when i got a little older. i decided to open up a group that was based off college kids and it was based off the college i currently attend, ucf--- genuinely i don’t remember the url of the group but @wonclerland was in it with me because we were friends. cameron joined, obviously and at the time that i was admining, he didn’t do much. people joined who i’d met through a previous rp and to be honest, that group of people and i were 100% a really stupid clique of mean people. they were really mean and petty and ugly and i never said anything to them or about what they said because i wanted to fit in and again, i admit to that. some girl joined the group who went by the name athena or it was her alias, i don’t really know but apparently, she had beef with that group of people who joined and they claimed she was racist but could never properly pull up proof to show me or whatever. as an admin, i was caught in the middle trying to hear every side of the story. cameron befriended athena and all hell broke loose.  i ended up going to playlist live for a day and mistakenly, i had asked one of the people in the little clique of mine to run the main while i was gone for the day. in the span of the 8 hours i was gone, the clique had posted athena’s unfollow despite her not wanting to quit and blah blah blah. i shut down the group because i didn’t know what to do and it make me anxious and stressed. cameron and athena formed a group of friends FROM that group and started to go on the girl who posted the unfollow’s instagram and comment hateful, bodyshaming things. they went as far as editing a picture of the girl on photoshop to look like shrek. i saw this all unfold and realized what kind of person cameron was and decided to TRY to sever ties with him. multiple times after this, i attempted to call him out on his ugly behavior on the tail end of our friendship. we would get into really violent fights in person and he’d come to target where i worked at the time to scream at me and yell at me in person. i called him out for being racist and problematic and using the n word- in return, he took down an entire roleplay we worked on together because he made all the graphics and left the page empty and blank while i was at work and couldn’t do anything about it. him and his boyfriend would call me names, made fun of me when i confided in them and came out as bisexual and told me i was just looking for attention and many other fucking instances where i was made to feel like shit. every time i called him out about stuff he did or said at all, i had to deal with abuse from in person and because i didn’t know how to approach the situation or deal with it, i let him get away with treating other people in the rpc like trash.

cameron and i grew apart after he quit the rpc. he ran out of aliases to use to destroy groups and i was working on actively trying to get out of the wake of destruction him and the friend group that yes, i followed around, left behind. i put forth the effort to work on learning about racism more in depth, i went to therapy to deal with the assaults and stuff i was going through and i used writing to cope with it and found a solid group of people that were actually decent. i admit that i was part of the problem by not saying anything to cameron, i was terrified of him and losing the only friend i had in my real life at the time. i know what he did hurt a lot of people in the rpc, including now the anon, and i realize that my silence until much later was not of any help at all. my activism now isn’t performative--- i’ve tried so hard over the last few years to learn and educate myself on the blm movement and i’m still learning every day. my intentions and heart have never been malicious and i deeply apologize to you, oksi, if you read this because i know it’s you that sent that anon. i’m sorry that my silence and lack of maturity and balls to confront cameron hurt you and i’m sorry for being a part of the problem. i’m sorry to whoever knew me back then and saw the people i surrounded myself with and that i was so focused on fitting in and belonging to a group (even a really fucking shitty one) stop me from speaking up when it mattered the most. i wish that this had been addressed to me privately so i could’ve talked to her and heard her side of the story but i understand that she probably felt uncomfortable and unsafe given our past and who she used to associate me with. i do not and will not ever stand for racism, i’m working every single fucking day to learn and spread resources and educate myself and to not overstep my boundaries or talk over the black community because it’s NOT my place. i can’t speak for the other person mentioned in this post and i hope she comes forward if she feels inclined to and tell her side of the story but this is mine. holding myself accountable for being a part of the problem. 

i’m sorry if any of this upset anyone and if this means i’m going to lose friendships or mutuals over this. i understand and it’s fine. i’m not looking to victimize myself at all and i’m admitting to the fact that i was complacent and silent and i’m really sorry. i’m not like that anymore and i’m always one of the first people to call horrible shit out, probably too much because i spent so much time NOT saying anything out of fear. and if you read any of this, thank you? i don’t know what this is going to do but i hope it helps shed light on my side of the story. again, oksi, i’m really fucking sorry- you don’t have to forgive me at all and i don’t expect you to but i hope you’ll at least hear this out and try to understand i’ve changed and i actively try every single day to be better than i used to be. thank you and sorry again.

#idk what to tag this under but #i hope people read it #i'm just gonna leave for a bit now

[mercysought]

“You always know how to make me smile.” (Let Johanna And Abel Be Soft!!)

Soft Sentence Starters  ♡ ( ACCEPTING )@aglaecan​ ( JOHANNA )

Perhaps it is the way that his shoulders relax slowly, the way that his lips curled beneath the unruly light brown hair that fell over his forehead as his head tipped forward that gives the pride that he feels about her statement away, as clear as day for anyone to see. Unbecoming, perhaps, to allow himself to spill such an unbridled show of emotion (even if, realistically, in comparison to others, he knew it was but a blink of an eye. To think too much, feel the eyes of the world always upon yourself, it is a curse that is hard to relinquish). But it is easier with her.

He would not speak about the effort that it took, the times that he thought and overthought what he was to say and what relief it was to see that his words were well received, encouraged at times. Abel would have preferred often to not assume, stay behind and study the situation until he knew for certain... To not overstep boundaries and lines that he knew he had a hard time recognizing, a harder time than others perhaps (while others willfully ignored them all together). But he was learning like one learned to do the first steps of a dance the first time that they are given the chance to do it with another: slow, with movements that are likely far too rigid for the fluidity that such an act requires in order to be beautiful and blue eyes that seek hers. And he has found it, time and time again in a silent manner: the reassurance to continue.

Abel turns slightly towards her as they walked, his black coat buttoned, his arm brushing briefly against hers. How thankful he was that she was there with him, in the silence of the corridors of his family home, thankful that she took the little free time that she had to spend it with her when he knew that she certainly (maybe even desperately) needed the rest. Ever since returning from Paris after his training (long before he had met Johanna) he had come to realise that only there did he have constant nightmares, only much later did his parents realise the same as well. She did not look tired; she looked enthusiastic in the way that she spoke, in the timbre of her voice, in a way that he could not quite put into words. She smiled, and while Joahnna was one that had an easy smile, she smiled at him.

He can hear the steps around the house, of servants and his family and just the natural almost like breathing rhythm that he had come to associate with the house during the day, but those are nothing but background noise as the hand that is behind his band moves to hold her hand. Thumb holding between her long and soft fingers, a contrast to his own hands. Her hand feels warm against his, and with a soft brush of his thumb his smile grows in intensity even if it is one that does not open further.

   “I am glad.” his voice is but a whisper, words only meant for her ears regardless of whoever passed through the corridor. Bold and foolish, but he does not want to release it. It is a selfish thing that settles in the warm space where her hand would be missed. It is in that moment, while holding her hand for just a second longer that he releases of it slowly “You do not know what those words mean to me.” he hums, holding his hand in front of her, indicating them to continue. Their absence would certainly be felt soon. 

The silence stretches as he continues walking, both hands folding against the black fabric on his back. He can almost hear himself count the seconds between each breath, to make them sound natural. There is a lot of focus, as icy eyes move to the floor and they walk in silence, a small smile still on his lips: a lot of focus to keep his heart from beating as loudly as it wants to be. Abel glances up to Johanna, watching how her hair fell over her thin shoulders, feeling blue eyes slowly shift towards him as they walked but no word be uttered. Just a smile, one that he reflects back at her, leaning down in her direction softly as they walked “I am assuming that it is obvious that you are more than knowledgeable on how to make me smile, Lady Johanna.” 

#aglaecan #abel de clair ( muses ) #raven received ( meme replies ) #( don't even touch me )

[deev00]

The day that Chris aka Fuck face showed up to my work, during our conversation in the cafe I had told him that I had no intentions of pursuing things with him and had absolutely no interest at all. That the only reason why I was talking to him was because I want it to hurt him like he had hurt me in the past. I told him that I knew it was wrong and I wasn't sure why I wanted to do that so bad but that I had a good life and that he needed to leave me alone. Looking back, At the time I didn't really understand what I wanted to do that to him... But now with a clear-headed mind and lots of time to reflect and analyze everything that had happened, I realized that I was hurting and I got satisfaction out of hurting him. It's very wrong and I know that, but back then I really didn't care. I was already acting carelessly by drinking excessively and being negligent towards my relationship with Nick as well.

I never intended to talk to Fuck Face ever again and I figured that he would leave me alone. But he didn't... the problem is that I fell for a lot of the bullshit that he fed me. I should have blocked him but I didn't and I don't really remember why. I didn't care about him at all and I think that I probably just figured he'd leave me alone after I told him all that I had. I really didn't want to associate with him. I thought he was trash for talking to a married woman the way he did (believe me, I am still disgusted with myself for my own actions too) I wasn't attracted to him. I thought he was super ugly. He was short and it bothered me. His voice annoyed me. I thought his head was too big for his body. Everything about him was just unattractive. There wasn't anything that I liked about him. Not one single thing...

So after the whole incident at my work, He ended up contacting me shortly after and tried to convince me that there was a reason we were in each other's lives. He brought up how our dad's both abandoned us in our lives and that he came into my life after my dad died for a reason and that we were meant to be there to support each other and he knew I needed support right now. I hadn't mentioned anything about my relationship with Nick as far as everything that happened when my dad got sick. He knew very little details about my life. So I allowed him be my friend And I told him not he had to really respect the boundaries and not cross them because I was happily married. He had convinced me that he really just wanted to be a good friend and that we go way back and that he was sorry for the things that he had said knowing that I'm married. That he didn't want to overstep and that he would respect my relationship. And I believed him. The sad thing is that I would always talk to him when I was drinking, So I don't even remember a majority of our conversations. I used to record my conversations, then I would go back and listen to them. Some of them are really hard to listen to because I was so drunk that I was slurring and repeating myself and I sounded like I was half mentally retarded.

In the beginning of all this, I told Nick that I want it to talk to Chris as a friend. He didn't like the idea but he told me that he trusted me. And I feel so stupid now because there were a couple of times where I went to his house and I had stayed the night and Nick called me crying one time telling me that he couldn't believe I was sleeping in another man's bed. But I didn't view Chris as anything more than a friend. And since I wasn't doing anything with him I didn't see myself as doing anything wrong....which now I look back and I'm like, what the fuck was I thinking?! How the fuck could I believe that I wasn't doing anything wrong since I wasn't fucking him? And I remember telling Nick that I don't know why I was doing the things that I did but that I was confused. That I just needed support and that Chris was there for me. My mind was all over the place and I don't even know what my thought process was really. I wasn't thinking straight. I would say that back then I was completely mentally unstable. I don't even recognize my own actions. If you were to ask me if I were to ever do something like that, I would tell you fuck no are you insane?! But back then, I just figured since I was being honest about talking to Chris then what would be the harm in me spending the night at my friend's house? Even though I knewingly went there knowing that he has made inappropriate comments to me that my husband disapproved of. I wouldn't have felt comfortable if Nick went over some chicks house who had made comments like that. But I never looked at it that way.

You probably think, wow...what a hoe. I actually didn't sleep with him. I had gone over there maybe like 6 times in total through out The entire time that I knew him. We had met up other times at restaurants. We even looked at cars together.

So anyhow, Nick didn't want me talking to him anymore and it was causing all of these problems. So I told Chris that I couldn't talk to him anymore. And this was like mid January. He said he understood and that he wished me well and that it didn't have to be that way and I figured okay everything's fine...

Then he showed up at my work...again. I was super frustrated that he had come to my work and was waiting for me until I got off. He talked me into going to dinner with him and told me that he really just wanted to talk. I called it Nick and told him and he really didn't want me to go but I went anyhow. At dinner Chris tried to talk me into being friends again and said that maybe I should just not tell Nick and that we weren't doing anything wrong since we were just friends. I thought you know he's right... But he wasn't right. So I took his advice and I kept him a secret. But that didn't last too long because Nick caught me talking to him right away. This cycle repeat it for a while. The only difference is I would get mad at Chris because I felt so much guilt for talking to him and I told him that it wasn't right and I want it him to stay out of my life. So then we would stop talking for a couple to a few weeks and then he would come back into my life. He showed up to my work on 6 different occasions. 2 of the times he was claiming that he was just looking to buy glasses. One of the times he actually did. But of course we know that it wasn't to buy glasses. The cycle kept repeating and Nick kept catching me until I finally one day I just couldn't take it anymore. I was super depressed and I hated in my life at this point. I had so much guilt for talking to him and for lying and being deceitful. Chris's intentions were not to be my friend. He caused a lot of turmoil in my relationship. He brought up things about my life with Nick that I had never thought of. He asked about our finances. Which I never thought too much of. He asked me how much money Nick had in his bank account. He asked me how much Nick made. He asked me how much our bills were. And these were all things that I didn't know. So then I brought it to Nick's attention and it end up turning into a big fight because it turns out that Nick hasn't been honest with me about our finances. Or how much he makes. Or how much money he has in his bank account. I held resentment towards me for this and in spite I continued to talk to Chris just to get back at him. What a poor decision that was, right?

At this point it's about April. I had seen Chris many times at this point. I even had made out with him when I was drinking at his place. I started to feel even worse than I already did. I knew I needed to get him out of my life. Nothing good was going to come of this.

I don't remember what day in April it was but I remember Chris had asked me to go to the doctor with him. I hadn't seen him in a while at this point and he was just making excuses to see me. He had made it a point that he had to have some sort of stuff done with his heart because he was having all this trouble with it. Turns out that was actually all bullshit and his doctor was just checking his heart because his heart rate was fast one day when he went to the doctor. Yeah. At this point I know that Chris is a manipulator. I started to see everything for how it was. Him and my best friend had both been bad influences on my life and both had been trying to turn me against Nick. I just didn't realize it. My best friend was jealous of me and my life and Chris was jealous of my life as well. I feel so stupid for believing anything either of them said because I just didn't realize they were trying to hurt me.

That night in April, I told Chris he had to stay out of my life. I couldn't do it anymore. I had become severely depressed and my relationship was suffering. That night, like every night...I had been drinking. He text me shortly after and told me that he couldn't live without me and that he was going to kill himself. I told him he was being ridiculous and that he just needed to calm down. About an hour passed and he text me that he went to Home Depot and bought a hose to stick in his exhaust pipe and that he was going to kill himself.

Ok this is the part where I know I sound like a complete and total heartless asshole but if you were in my shoes, you would feel the same way.

I didn't call Fuck Face because I actually cared if he died. I only called him because him and I fought more than we got along and I had told him several times that he should kill himself and I even offered to pay for a gun for him to do it. That's how much I truly hated him. So the only reason that I called him and tried to talk him out of it was because his mom used to contact me all the time just to argue with me cuz she was one big stupid fucking cunt. She had told me that if Chris had ever killed himself that I would be held as an accessory to murder. My drunk self freaked out. I wasn't worried about him dying. That actually was a sense of relief if he did sadly I did feel that way. I was worried that I was going to get in trouble. As I was talking to him, Nick walked in the garage and caught me. He told me, "Good fucking job, Dej". We then got into an argument of which I do not remember. I woke up at Chris's house. I don't remember driving there but I did. I don't know why I drove down there but I've also realized that I can't ever question myself why did the things that I did when I drank because it will never make sense. I can't make sense of it when I'm sober. Who I am when I drink is not who I am when I am sober.

This was kind of like the tumble of the barrel... I know that if I hadn't made that call that night then my life would be a lot different than it was. I have a lot of regrets but calling Chris that night was one of my biggest. Nick was done at this point. He told me that he wanted to file for divorce. I felt alone and lost. None of it felt real. Well this entire time you probably wonder why I talk to Chris if I loved Nick so much, Well I will tell you...

I never had feelings for Chris. I used him. I used him for emotional support. I used him as an escape. I used him as someone to vent to. I used him as leverage to make my husband more upset. But the biggest thing that I did was I used him so that he could make my husband jealous and chase me. I felt such a disconnect in my relationship with Nick after I had started to drink very, very heavily. I thought that if he saw he was losing me that he would chase me. After all that stuff happened with Chris and his pretend-to-attempt suicide, Nick really was a goner at this point. I was at my ditch effort trying to get him back. I made stupid, stupid decisions. I would go to Chris's house to make him jealous and hopes that he would try to stop me. But he didn't. I started packing my stuff because we had discussed me moving out, in hopes that he would stop me. I remember one day he sat me down and he told me that he was really sad and he was crying, He asked me if I loved Chris and even though I knew the answer was no, I still said yes because I wanted him to see that he was losing me. I was so stupid. I cry as I write this... that was the stupidest thing I could have done. But I had already lost him at this point.

I did things so wrong but at the time they made sense. Secretly, I had been struggling with my own self worth. I had so many abandonment issues. I knew that Nick was too good for me. I didn't deserve him. I knew that continuing to talk to Chris but it would sabotage my relationship. So I continued to do it while at the same time hoping that Nick would chase me. That's all I really wanted.

All I wanted deep down was for Nick to be there for me. I wanted him to be there for me throughout my dad's death. And it's not like he wasn't completely, He just was very detached. He only went to the hospital with me once when my dad was in the ICU. But I never pushed for him to go and hopes that he would just know that he needed to be there for me. Because that's what relationships are about, being there for each other when you need the most. Even while in hospice, he only went to see my dad with me once granted my dad was only there for 2 weeks. And then he decided to just stop communicating with me after my dad passed and I became a raging alcoholic. All I wanted was Nick's attention.

I never meant to hurt Nick. I never put myself in his shoes. I was too selfish and caught up in my own addiction and feeling worthless and just worrying about myself and how I felt that I never stopped once to really think about how Nick felt. What I was doing to him. The pain that I was causing. What it was like dealing with me. Not once. Because I was too fucking selfish. And I will always regret that. I've never felt more guilt in my entire life. For all the things I've done to him. He was my favorite person and he still is. I'll be waiting until the end of days for this man to change his mind about me. I'm not sure if that day will ever happen. He currently has a girlfriend. But I feel he is my soulmate and I think that made me one day things can change. I think once he's in a relationship for a long while that he'll realize what we had and that how lucky we were to have been able to fill the love we did and how we felt the butterflies everyday for many years. And when those butterflies fade with his new girlfriend, He's going to realize that what we had was true love and that it's not possible to fill that way again unless with each other. And I may be crazy but I don't really care at this point. Everyone says to follow your dreams. That's what I'm doing, I'm following my dreams. My dreams are to spend my life with Nick.

Well now you know how much I love Nick, You see that I was just being unstable. Nothing makes sense and don't try to make sense of it. So now that Nick is done with me and he won't chase me this is where my life ended up getting just a million times worse.

During my time at Chris's house, him and I had been drinking and I hate talking about this but I have to just be honest with myself about everything. For a long time I blamed myself for the stuff that went down that night. And yes it is half my fault but what happened that night was not right and it shouldn't have ever taken place.

Chris and I had been drinking and I ended up passing out in his bed. I've done my best to try and block this memory out and how it exactly happened I'm not really sure anymore, All I know is the amount of fear and betrayal that I felt. Me feel betrayal? Yes, even though I was in the situation that I put myself in, I still felt betrayal. I was still pretty drunk and it was the middle of the night. Fuck face had lowered my pants down and begin to have sex with me. I was in shock and I didn't know what to say or think. I was scared, to be honest with you. I may have kissed him in the past and may have crossed some lines that I shouldn't have but I hadn't slept with him. He had tried in the past but I didn't let him. I got mad at him for touching me inappropriately. I should have left but I didn't. We ended up drinking. Which is funny because Chris claimed that he didn't know that I was an alcoholic but it was very apparent. Who could have not known? All the conversations that him and I had where I was really fucked up made no sense and was slurring and sounded like I was retarded, how could he claim that he didn't know I was an alcoholic?

While I was in his bed, as he was doing this to me I got up and I went to the bathroom and I sat down and I started crying. Hoping that he would come in and apologize. But 20 minutes past and nothing... So I ended up going in the kitchen and I took a few more shots. I thought I had fallen asleep on the couch but apparently I did not. Somehow I ended up in his room but I don't doubt myself because I was drunk. I woke up to the same thing, this time I was so upset with myself and still in shock that I just laid there. I let him do his thing. He didn't say anything to me at all. I didn't say anything to him. He just got up went and took a shower and went about his day. We didn't talk about it. I was still pretty drunk when I woke up so I waited until I sobered up to go home. I think I had been at his house for the weekend and I had lied about being at my best friends. I remember feeling so guilty for everything and I felt sick to my stomach. I didn't want to go home because I felt so guilty. I didn't want to face Nick because I knew that I was going to tell him what happened. So I ended up staying the night again stupidly, out of guilt, shear guilt and the next day I went home.

I bought two bottles of wine on my way home. I was on my computer in the morning and I had chugged a whole bottle of wine. I don't remember the conversations that I had on my computer but I left my lid open and apparently I told Chris that I wanted to have sex in his truck which I am not sure why. I wasn't even attracted to him that way. My only thought is that I was just in a drunken state and not thinking about what had actually happened. I can't tell you because I don't know. All I know is that I didn't mean what I said! And I swear on everything. Nick ended up seeing the messages on my computer and he started yelling and we got into a fight and he asked me if I slept with Chris and I told him that I did. And I was mad when I said it, I was like, "yeah I fucked him and so what get over it!" But he didn't actually know the full details and I was mad at myself. I was taking it out on him. I couldn't even believe myself when I got sober and I realized how stupid I was. At this point, everything was broken and nothing could be fixed. I begged Nick. I begged him for days to forgive me and he wouldn't. He told me that we need it to get divorced.

On May 12th, a private server showed up at our house and left divorce papers on the door. I broke down when I read them and then I called Nick and I let him know that I was breaking down and I was begging him to forgive me. But he said that this needed to be done. I went to the liquor store and bought a bunch of Cinerator shots and I began to drink. I got my pills that I had been accumulating over the last decade and I poured them all inside of my hand and I took them all...

I woke up several days later in an ambulance transporting me to the rehabilitation center I would be staying at for the next 4 days. I had been in the ICU for 3 days. Where Nick never visited me once...