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socheckitout-mikey · 3 years

Note

Can I request a Johnny x soc reader where they hide their relationship and suddenly realize they really dont want to so now they have to adjust

heya birdie! i only really write hc’s so that’s the format they’re in. also, i kinda focused it more heavily on the reader meeting the gang, bc johnny would be pretty set on her meeting them since they’re pretty much his family. i hope you enjoy what i came up with! - mae

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Johnny Dating a Soc Reader and Hiding their Relationship Hc’s:

° None of the gang seemed to pick up on the fact that Johnnycake is dating you, and honestly, Johnny is pretty happy about that. Boii get’s teased enough as it is whenever he does open his mouth, he doesn’t need to be flooded with an onslaught of attention in regards to you.

° It’s just not Johnny’s style to be propped on top of a roof of a building, yowling about how he’s together with you. That’s more of Two-bit’s style. It’s not born out of embarrassment of dating you, someone who’s in a different social class altogether, it’s more over the fact that attention tends to overwhelm Johnny since he’s a raging introvert.

° In fact, Johnny is incredibly ecstatic to have you as his s/o despite the ample amount of insecurities he has about himself and his social status. He considers himself a lucky guy to have bagged someone as amazing and understanding as you. You balance a lot of his anxieties and insecurities out with patience and reassurance: Two things that we all know Johnny desperately lacks outside of the gang.

° Johnny tends to get effortlessly embarrassed whenever the spotlight is scorching on his form. So when you had told him you wanted to keep your relationship a secret, a part of him was incredibly relieved, but not before his mind started racing madly over the negative avenues for your reasoning.

° That other part of him felt ashamed of himself, especially because he primarily thought you were doing this out of the fact you were embarrassed of what others would think of you if they discovered the pair of you were dating.

° Yet you swiftly shutdown those ridiculous avenues of thought, ensuring him that you cared for him deeply and that societies prim and proper nose wouldn’t make you change who you loved, - even if it was upturned -. Similarly to Johnnycake, you relinquished from attention, the sheer thought of all these eyes being on you both made your skin crawl grotesquely.

° And thus began the comfortable pinnacle of your relationship with Johnny Cade. There was never much pressure, the pair of you free in the lack of obligation of speaking about your relationship to anyone else. It was beautiful while it lasted.

° You see, the gang weren’t blind. Soon they began to notice a spring in Johnny’s step, how he spoke a little more, how he disappeared frequently. The amount of times he’d led the gang on wild goose chases across town to lose them somewhere along the way to yours drove him insane!

° Teasing became an ample part of his life, the gang eventually guessing that he was dating someone. And although his crimson cheeks probably gave him away, his mouth never did. But Dally was hot onto the younger boy with a knowing smirk because Johnny may’ve slipped it loose once or twice whilst the guy was drunk: Sometimes, miraculously, Dally remembered his drunk endeavors.

° And your friends... fickle they were! Figured it out two weeks into your relationship with Johnny. Though fortunately for you they were trustworthy folk, they never pushed the topic, ready for whenever you were ready to tell them on your own terms.

° It was incredibly comical when you and Johnny met one night, both wild eyed and slightly breathless. The pair of you were sat in your car, the soft drawl of the radio humming whimsically in the background as Johnny sucked the life out of his tenth cancer stick of the night.

° “We gotta talk-” the paid of you mumbled out desperately in unison, the anxiety shivering in your tones made the pair of you spooked. Now that you look back on it, you laugh.

° “You first-” a unison it was once more and Johnny couldn’t help but crack a wry toothy grin before throwing his cigarette butt out the window.

° “Okay, you shoot first, Y/N.” Johnny stated in a shaky tone, his stammering long gone. You were one of the only people he felt real comfortable talking with.

° “I-I think we should tell our friends, because my friends are figurin’ it out.”

° And that night the pair of you stayed up till the early hours devising a plan on how best to break this to your friends.

° Johnny decided he’d need to pull up his bootstraps and meet your pals first, considering they were the nicest of the bunch. After all, the gang were notorious for being nasty to people they didn’t know, though laid off once they did get to know people. It was precautionary.

° And him meeting your friends went spectacularly! They loved Johnny so much and had nothing but great things to say about him. It was a bit of an ego boost for the kid, albeit incredibly overwhelming. He was still grinning in the vacant lot that night when Dally sat with the kid, fully sober for once.

° “Dal,” Johnny had hummed through the night air, shaking softly as nerves wracked his guts, “I gotta come clean about somethin’.” Did he have to say it so corny?

° “Shoot, Johnny-kid, what’s up?” Dally stated, seriousness taking him by the reins.

° And out it all came...

° Dally was ecstatic to say the least, taunting came out in boisterous fits and soon enough he’d wrestled Johnny into the Curtis house, gloating about how Johnny had snatched himself someone fancy.

° No one believed him initially, but then Johnny told them your name and when I tell you Soda’s jaw slammed onto the floor, it really did. They were so happy for him! And with happiness came the wild teasing of six boisterous boys, all eager to meet the person who’d won Johnny’s attention.

° Johnny was on edge about you meeting the gang, considering that you’d seen some of their antics in person from afar. He assured you that after awhile, they’d lay off; but for now, you’d be like that new attraction at the zoo. You hated that analogy but it made you laugh.

° You’d pretty much prepared yourself for the absolute worst, and although you were scared stiff, you sure didn’t show it. It made Johnny admire you more because you took everything the boys gave you in stride: I mean, it wasn’t like you weren’t a stranger to how teenage boys acted, after all, you did go to school with a whole bunch of em’.

° Darry was the most intimidating besides Dallas, due to his stature and height, but also because of that notorious icy look in his eye. He’d firmly shook your hand, muttering a brief “Hi, I’m Darry,” before slinking back into the kitchen to finish cooking dinner. Darry was a tough nut to crack, something Johnny had told you not to take personally: In fact, Darry really liked you from the moment you walked through the door because you were precisely what Johnny needed in a partner. You were also a good kid, something he hoped eventually would rub off on the other boys, but he wasn’t exactly expecting miracles.

° Sodapop was wild eyed and dreamy as ever, albeit just as dirty as the other boys. He flirted with you every chance he could get, eliciting Johnny to wise off to him; something that made the gang both gawk and simper like wolves.

° “What? You’ve never heard him speak before?” You’d quipped back wittily. You were also weary on how witty you were, seeing as you were typically seen as someone out of their leagues, you didn’t wanna come off as preppy, like you looked down on them. The truth was, you didn’t look down on them. After all, they were important people to Johnny, so they deserved as much respect as anyone else.

° Steve was cocky and smart mouthed, something you had witnessed all too often at school: In fact, you were pretty sure you’d been on the receiving end of his callous words more than once. You took everything he said with a grain of salt. He was also a little intense to begin with, joining in on Soda, Two and Dally flirting with you, but only in the sense to get you to be severely embarrassed.

° And Johnny was almost defensive of you, swatting away the gang and wising off to them to cut it out and leave you alone. He should’ve known better than to rise to their bait, because after all, that’s what they were really looking for; to get him going all red in the face.

° “You guys are nasty! I swear, ain’t nobody was this bad when Evie came round...”

° The minute you’d walked through the front door, Two-bit was hot on your heels, with Dally in tow, attempting to make you laugh up a storm. Well, he did, because it’s Two-bit after all: Who couldn’t that guy make laugh? His flirting would’ve been smooth if not for him having hiccupped halfway through his sentence.

° “Hey, sweet cheeks, why don’t you ditch Johnny for a real good lookin’ man like me, huh sugar?”

° “If the mirrors the one who told you that, then it’s lying.” You quipped back skillfully, more than comfortable taking on someone as wise-cracking as Two. The insult seemed to break the ice somewhat because Two didn’t take anything personally. In fact, all the boys thought it was pretty funny.

° Dally was the one that genuinely terrified you. The lines between a hood and a greaser weren’t present in him after all: Dallas Winston was as bad as they got, like Tim Shepard, and if it weren’t for him being Johnny’s buddy, you’d have avoided him at all costs. You weren’t sold short on his little show at the beginning, flirting with you, pulling on your hair like you were his kid sister or something... Dally found every way to irritate the hell out of you.

° “C’mon now, Dal! Cut that shit out!” Johnny snapped particularly at one point, but he meant business: Johnny never really wised off to anyone, so it took some guts for him to go out for Dally like that. Dally just grinned at him silly before ruffling the kids hair. “Alright, alright! Who knew you dug this one so much, eh?”

° Ponyboy, although quiet, was probably your most favorite of the gang. You really weren’t a stranger to him at school, often having some classes together with him. So it was somewhat refreshing to see someone you knew a little well in class. Every so often you’d catch the kid looking at you apologetically from the dining room whenever Steve or Two would say something that would’ve made anyone else run for the hills.

° “You know, if you keep goin’ like that, Johnny-cakes’ heads gonna burst into flames.”

° Whenever the boys got too rambunctious, Darry would pipe up from the doorway, reminding the boys that they needed to tone it down. After all, they’d promised Johnny they’d be on their best behavior, which in fact, that whole promise had been thrown out the window long ago. You’d just accepted it at this point.

° Eventually nighttime curled over Tulsa Oklahoma, and it was time for you to head on home. As soon as you and Johnny got down to the lot, he was intent on apologizing for their awful behavior, absolutely certain that you wouldn’t wanna be with a bum like him that hung out with trash like that.

° “What’re you apologizin’ for? I like em’. I mean, they’re awful, but...” You grinned at your boyfriend, linking fingers with him.

° “Did Two sneak you some booze?!” Johnny was animated, his voice cracking as it reached an octave that it hadn’t before.

° It did take awhile for the gang to accept you as Johnny’s girlfriend, but that didn’t matter to you as the cat was out of the bag: Outing your relationship to both of your friend groups was probably the best avenue to have gone down, since it was never in either of your guys’s nature to have just shown up to school one day holding hands and all that mushy galore!

° Everyone at school made a huge deal out of you guys dating for about a week until the next ‘crazy’ rumor swept their attention. Although you were still subject to some odd looks and some remarks, the pair of you just ignored them.

° The most the pair of you would do in public was hold hands or Johnny’s arm was around your shoulders. Subtle things. He got a whole ear full from the gang about how whipped he was. Johnny just didn’t dig the whole possessive thing that Dally was into. He didn’t need the whole world watching him make out with you!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

please like, reblog and follow for more!

requests: open!

#johnnycade #johnny cade #johnny cade imagines #johnny cade headcanons #johnny cade x reader #the outsiders #the outsiders imagines #the outsiders headcanons #the outsiders johnny cade #the outsiders johnny cade headcanons #the outsiders johnny cade imagines #the outsiders johnny cade x reader #hope you enjoyed them!#mae

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princess-of-the-corner · 3 years

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I never watched Winx as a kid, so I really hope I don't sound like an idiot for asking this. What exactly does the Netflix Winx series do wrong besides giving it the "dark and gritty" makeover?

So like. There are a lot of problems here and I’ll try to tackle them. I haven’t finished the reboot because I have difficulty getting through things I like, much less things I hate watch. But anyway, this gets long and is separated into parts.

Let’s start with it’s issues on it’s own and not as an adaptation:

It’s still pretty garbage. Not ‘the worst thing ever’. Interesting enough. But it does have problems. Some racist and homophobic and fatphobic writing. The characters range from ‘kind of a jerk’ to ‘straight up assholes who will cause physical harm for petty reasons’. The nicest one so far is Terra, but even she kinda snaps and strangles a guy with her plant powers.

Now on to things it fails on as an adaptation!

First, the whitewashing!

Of the six main characters, 3/6 were poc-coded in the original cartoon(I say ‘coded’ because they’re not Humans from Earth but still). Aisha is black, Flora is Latina, and Musa is Chinese.

Aisha is the only one who remains black. I’ve heard varying testimonies on Musa’s actor, but the ‘best’ I’ve heard is that she’s 1/4 Singaporean and white passing. I don’t have the authority to say if that’s in the clear or not so I’m leaving that to other fans.

Flora gets the worst though. They cast a white woman to play her. Then backtracked and said ‘oh, this isn’t Flora. We replaced her with her white cousin Terra’. Yeah you can see the problem there.

Characters they got rid of entirely! I’ll only discuss characters that showed up in the first two seasons of the original show since Fate only has one season. (I’d say just the first, but they included Aisha who is from Season 2).

Let’s see. They got rid of Tecna, one of the main six girls. It’s likely because they’re going for a more ‘bootleg Hogwarts’ vibe, and Tecna’s magic being heavily technology based ruins that. So she’s just tossed altogether.

The boys! Oh my god my boys! Sky and Riven are the only ones who were kept in, while Brandon, Timmy and Helia got scrapped and replaced as well. The other boys like Dane and Sam? Totally could’ve just given them those names and been done with it.

Then there’s Icy, Darcy and Stormy! I’m counting them together because that’s exactly what Fate did! The three Witches are villains in the series, and instead of keeping a trio, they combined her into a single character. Beatrix.

I think Silva was also an amalgamation of the remaining Headmaster/Headmistresses and a few other staff members but considering they condensed it to just one school it kind of makes sense.

Sometimes there’s just a name change like the Headmistress of Alfea was changed to Farah Dowling instead of Faragonda which is so pointless.

Overall there’s other minor characters that don’t show up, like the rest of the school staff, Mirta and Lucy, so on and so forth. But I’m less upset about that. Still upset though because I love them.

Personality changes! And romance drama!

Oh boy. Oh boy oh boy oh boy.

I already mentioned how they made everyone an asshole in this reboot. In the original show, the only protagonist that was consistently a jerk was Riven, but he was more of the ‘grumpy but still a good guy’ type of asshole.

Let’s compare just one character and her relationships to others!

Stella in the Original Cartoon: Preppy and sometimes a little vain, could be blunt to the point of insulting, but never malicious. Very sweet and loves her friends. She and Bloom are best friends, Stella having been the one to bring Bloom into the world of Magix and will do everything she can to make sure she’s safe. Stella’s love interest is Brandon, who is bffs with Bloom’s love interest Sky. Stella and Brandon are very cheesy and cute together. They aren’t usually jealous, and can even make a competition out of ‘how many phone numbers can I get?’.

Stella in Fate: Total bitch to all her roommates. She’s getting the common ‘my mom’s a bitch who puts pressure on me so I’m going to be a bitch’ thing that’s become popular now. Since Brandon was deleted, they put her in a love triangle with Bloom and Sky, Sky being Stella’s ex bf. And despite breaking up with him, Stella sees him just talking to Bloom and decides ‘Hm. Let’s prey on her insecurities that she doesn’t belong here, and manipulate her into leaving!’ Which includes walking through a forest where there was recently a man attacked and viscously killed by some kind of monster, so I’m putting it up to attempted murder.

Yeah. Everyone’s kind of like that. It’s awful.

Bloom’s backstory and parents!

Okay, this can kind of fall under both ‘personality changes’ and ‘plot changes’ but it deserves it’s own section.

In the Original Cartoon, Bloom’s home kingdom was attacked and destroyed by villains searching for something called the Dragon Flame. Bloom was a baby with said power, so her older sister sent her to Earth, a world without Magic, where she would be safe and hidden. Mike and Vanessa find her and adopt her, loving her and raising her very well. They are good parents. Bloom learns she has powers when she meets Stella, and instinctively uses Magic to protect her.

In Fate, the only thing really the same is that Bloom was sent to Earth. I’m a little unclear on why, but instead of giving her loving adoptive parents, they made her a Changeling with emotionally abusive parents! Let me elaborate a little: Instead of adopting Bloom of their own free will, Mike and Vanessa’s real child died in the hospital and was secretly replaced with Bloom. Her parents are also, as mentioned, emotionally abusive. So much so that Fate!Bloom’s powers first manifested by setting them on fire in the middle of the night.

Fun. Ain’t it?

Now onto plot points!

Again, pretty much the only thing the same is ‘Bloom discovers she has Magic, goes to another Dimension to learn at a school called Alfea. Gets into adventures with her Roomates while trying to figure out where she’s really from’.

The whole ‘Burned ones’ were.... not a thing at all. There wasn’t any kind of ‘barrier’ to keep out ‘dangerous creatures’ or anything.

I’m not going to go over every single subplot but that was just. No. They were easily allowed to go outside the school.

The whole vibe

This is a big thing to talk about. While the reboot went for ‘dark and gritty’ over the bright colors and sparkles, it also went for ‘bootleg Hogwarts’ instead of anything interesting.

In the reboot, the merging of Magic and Technloogy is mostly like. ‘Yeah we go to school in this old ass castle and we don’t use guns in weaponry class, but we have smartphones and social media and Harry Potter!”.

In the Original??? The whole world was very Magitech. It was a combination of Magic and Scifi! Kinda Steven Universe style actually.

The transformations!!!

Look. LOOK. Winx Club is a Magical Girl show! They have those beautiful transformation sequences that last a solid minute or so of screen time. And they also have like. At least one new Transformation a Season, which comes with an ungodly amount of different cool outfits.

The reboot? One transformation sequence. And while the effects are nice, Bloom doesn’t even get a new outfit. Just a few flames coming off her that look vaguely like wings.

SPEAKING OF! They are Faeries!!!! But they don’t have wings????? What????

Look idgaf about your effects budget you could’ve made the cheesiest shit like the live action Sailor Moon stuff and fans would’ve loved it!

Bonus: The fact that they didn’t have to change anything to make it ‘Dark’!

So like. Netflix decided to take all the color out of it, and make it ‘dark’ by having the characters smoke and drink and have sex and say swears.

But they.... really didn’t have to! The original cartoon was plenty dark, despite it’s colorful aesthetic! If you wanted to do a more serious reboot, you could have easily done it by focusing more on those aspects.

Hell, there are many fans who have done it. I’m one. I know a couple others as well.

anyway it’s 2:30 am and this is long af so I’ll leave it at that.

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fluffybunnyartist · 4 years

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How would Herbert West, Ash Williams, Jennifer Check, and Tiffany Valentine react to their s/O's aesthetic and fashion (dark academia, rivethead, punk rock, and Wiccan goth respectively)?

Oooh! I had to look all of these up cause ya boi is fashionably inclined.

HERBERT WEST

Dark Acedamia

He'd appreciate it. Hes a well dressed guy himself so he'd be rather fond of it. But he wouldn't pay a lot of attention to it.

If you ask he might even rock the style with you! You both could wear matching checkered bottoms and even matching scarves!

The style might make him feel more elegant and boost his ego. Also the colors are darker and so itd be harder to tell if theres blood or something on him that shouldn't be there.

He likes a S/O that can look great on their own. Usually he doesn't pay attention to clothes but damn do you dress well!

ASH WILLIAMS

Rivethead

He thinks its dope! He loves how unique and strange it is! Hes curious as to why you chose this style. So he'll ask all sorts of questions about your fashion choices.

How'd you get into it? Why do you like it so much? He likes all the straps though. He'll just tug on them and pull you into hugs or kisses.

He likes watching you do your makeup and picking out your outfit for the day. He likes to make jokes about you being a vampire or a witch sometimes. He means well and he just likes to tease you.

Maybe if you ask real sweetly and give him puppy eyes he'll dress like you. He likes that you cant see blood on all the black you wear.

JENNIFER CHECK

Both of your styles clash. Hers being more preppy and a bit sexy. And yours is punk rock. But she loves the stares she gets from being with you.

She loves your style and you rock it so well! She loves stealing your clothes. Especially the studded jewelry and the ripped jeans

She'd be so easy to just dress like you. She loves your style and would love to match plus it'd give everyone a heart attack to see their sexy preppy cheerleader in a punk rock outfit.

She wonders how you got your style as well and loves the hair dye and makeup you do. It's so creative!

TIFFANY VALENTINE

You mean to tell me she doesn't dress almost exactly like a wiccan goth in her first appearance? She's already somewhat into the style.

Shed be pumped to have a S/O who has a similar style to hers! You guys can swap clothes and do each others makeup!

She would dress full wiccan. No hesitation and she already knows a few spells! You two can be a wiccan couple!

Really loves your style and will complement.it each day and loves going shopping with you to pick out clothes.

#tiffany valentine #tiffany valentine x reader #jennifer check #jennifer check x reader #herbert west x reader #herbert west #ash williams #ash williams x reader #slasher x reader #slasher #slashers

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27emailsicantsend · 5 years

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Ok so I read ur muffy second kiss fic thing and I got an idea but I suck at writing so I thought I’d ask you to write it lol but like the idea is that Marty is always trying to be the brave one bc that’s his way of showing Buffy that it’s ok to be emotional but one day Marty has a bad day and it’s Buffy’s turn to be the comforter (this idea might suck oop)

Marty’s Loss: A Muffy One Shot

“Yeah, ok, thanks for letting me know,” Marty said as he hung up the phone. He turned around to see all of his friends laughing and having a good time. They had decided to go bowling again, but it was starting to feel the bowling alley was jinxed. He watched as the rest of the world faded around him and his friends seemed to be in slow motion.

Andi was making jokes, smiling wide as she watched Cyrus roll the ball granny-style down the lane. TJ playfully smacked Andi’s arm with the back of his hand telling her to “cut it out”. Jonah was sitting opposite them, talking to Amber. They were having a light-hearted conversation. And then there was Buffy. She was so relaxed. Her black curls bouncing as she held herself laughing with Andi, TJ, Cyrus.

Buffy was so real and raw. Marty couldn’t believe they had already been dating almost a month. Ever since she admitted she liked him, she became more available emotionally. She was never really bad at this, however. She was honest when she rejected Marty (Marty shuddered as he pushed this thought away), bold when it came to standing up for her friends, straightforward with liking Marty, and he’d even seen her get teary eyed when she was afraid he rejected her.

All he did was joke with her or get serious, but never really spoke about what upset him. Even when he was rejected (shudder), he just pushed her away and moved on quickly to Rachel. Which he now acknowledged was an extremely bad idea.

Rachel was here last time and made the bowling alley an extremely uncomfortable place for him to visit due to the bad memories. He agreed to come though, in hopes that his bad memories would be replaced with new ones. They were new memories, just not new good ones, after this phone call.

He continued to watch from a distance when suddenly he saw Buffy smile at him and wave him over. He smiled and walked up to her. She placed her hand on his arm and quietly asked, “hey, everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine. Whose turn is it?” Marty said quickly, faking a smile, hoping to brush past having to talk.

The kids understood he wanted a change in subject and Cyrus said, “yours!”

Marty looked up at the score board. He and Buffy were about tied (since it was obviously a competition), TJ was in second, and Amber was doing surprisingly really well. It’s not that he didn’t think Amber would be good at bowling... well, actually it was. She seemed a little preppy for his taste and Rachel was too. Rachel wasn’t good at bowling because “germs” and not the right color of bowling ball, so Marty was surprised Amber was taking to it so naturally and easily. He liked this side of her, she showed progress, unlike his ex.

Marty bowled a strike with no hesitation. He walked off the platform as Buffy walked on for her turn, saying competitively, “Weak. I’ll do better”.

Marty tried to be flirty, but he knew that his comeback had a layer of sadness in his voice. “Nice try, Driscoll”.

The gang continued to bowl a couple more turns for each person. Even in one game of bowling, with this many people playing it took forever. They should have split the amount of people into two teams to make it quicker, but they all wanted to be on the same game, so it took a lot longer. Because of the time, Marty started to get pretty hungry. He walked up to the food counter and ordered some taco tots, Buffy’s favorite.

While he waited for the food, he heard a voice next to him, “one order of taco tots, please”.

Buffy.

“Hey, Driscoll, couldn’t stand to see my score so you had to walk away?”

“Wasn’t that what you were doing?” Buffy said with a polite grin.

They stood in silence for a second and Buffy turned to look at him again. “Marty, are you sure you’re ok? You’ve been really quiet since that phone call. I can tell something is up”.

“Buffy, I promise, I’m fine. Let’s just enjoy this time with your friends, ok?”

Buffy bit her lip, contemplating. She nodded and said, “ok” quietly.

Both orders of taco tots were set on the counter and they both walked back together in an awkward silence.

Marty continued to watch and smile, trying not to seem too obvious he was sad. He noticed Buffy look over at him a few times and even thought he heard Andi and Cyrus discussing him and Buffy having relationship problems at one point. They hadn’t had any relationship problems so far and Marty didn’t consider this one at all. He was just sad and needed space and he wished his friends respected that a little more.

The game was finally starting to come to a close and so he thought everyone was going to be done. They all wanted to play another game, however.

Marty pretended to check his phone and said his mom needed him home, but that they should all stay. He walked outside and around the corner of the building where no one could see him. He slid to the ground, pulled his knees to his chest, holding them with his arm, and then buried his head into his knees. He began to cry. A lot.

He sobbed and sobbed. It was a quiet alley way, thankfully. The bowling alley was far from a lot of people and he was hidden behind a dumpster.

He couldn’t stop crying.

He didn’t really have thoughts except for how sad he was and wondering how this could happen to him.

Suddenly, he heard footsteps. He panicked, thinking it might be an employee and that he wasn’t supposed to be there. He wiped the tears off of his face quickly with his sleeve and stood up. The moment he stood up he came face to face with Buffy.

She looked at him tenderly and then wrapped her arms behind his neck. He wrapped his arms around her waist and began to cry again. He sobbed into her shoulder. He didn’t feel embarrassed at all by this, surprisingly.

He was scared to be emotional in front of her because she already carried so much of that weight on her own. She dealt with so much. School, friends, Andi leaving, coaching... he just wanted to root her on and be a good boyfriend. He was afraid if he was too dramatic it might chase her away. That she couldn’t handle him being sad, because she already had too many emotions of her own and with her friends she had to deal with.

But this felt different. He felt a unique comfort in her embrace. One that said she wasn’t going anywhere- figuratively and literally. She continued to hold him until his crying slowed. When it started to slow down, he pulled away, their arms still locked in their same positions however.

Buffy gave him a small smile that seemed to say, “I’m here. I understand. You don’t have to talk, but if you want to. I’m here”.

Marty smiled at her and said, “thanks”.

She gave a polite chuckle and said, “anytime”.

Marty loved that about Buffy. She knew what to do and what to say. She knew her limits with him. He felt comfortable opening up to her. He had to at some point. He sat back down against the wall, extending his legs. He looked up at Buffy and patted the ground next to him, furthest from the dumpster.

Buffy slid down next to him, this time her knees to her chest, arms wrapped around them. She laid her head down on her knees, looking at him with sincerity.

Marty let out a small breath through his nose and looked ahead of him as he spoke. He knew that if he looked at Buffy, he wasn’t going to be able to keep his emotions in tact.

“My mom called. My grandma has been in the hospital the last two weeks. She finally passed”.

Buffy could have said something during the silence, but didn’t. Instead, she just kept listening.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do without her, Buff. I mean, I knew it was getting close, but I spent almost every weekend growing up at her house. Since my dad isn’t around anymore, she helped my mom to raise my sister and me”. Marty giggled. “She used to have a cookie jar. It had the same cookies in it my whole life, but my sister and I would fight over them every time we got there. We would race into the house. I remember grammy saying, ‘if you wanted the cookies so bad, you should have gone to the store and gotten them yourself, instead of running like heathens through the house’. Sometimes it had more colorful language than that, but you get the gist”.

Marty’s face dropped again. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, Buff. I am going to miss her so much. My grandpa is gone too, so now we have to clean the house, go through their belongings, my mom is going to have to do the work... on her.. own..” His voice began to trail as tears welled up in his eyes.

“Why did this have to happen?” He asked, rhetorically.

Buffy finally answered. She didn’t have to, but it helped. “I don’t know, Marty. I don’t know why these things happen,” she said as she scooted close to Marty, wrapping an arm around him. “But, what I do know, is that I’m here for you. We are all here for you. You don’t have to fight your battles alone. In fact, remember when we first started talking again?”

Marty began to chuckle, “yeah and I wouldn’t stop blowing up your phone? I had it so bad”. His face began to turn red.

Buffy laughed with him, “yes, you were pretty smitten, but I don’t blame you because I’m pretty awesome”. Marty rolled his eyes, grinning. “Anyway, that day I kept telling you I was busy because I was at Cyrus’ grandma’s Shivah. It’s a long celebration or ceremony they do in memory of someone who has died. It was a beautiful event and I think it really helped people to mourn the loss. What I learned the most from it, though, was that it was ok to talk about your feelings and to remember those people for who they were. It’s ok to be sad, but also don’t be afraid to remember her either. She would have wanted that from you, I know it. I also know she loves you very, very much and is so proud of who you are today. I couldn’t be more proud”.

Buffy learned over and kissed him on the cheek. Marty smiled at her, as a way to thank her.

“I appreciate you telling me that, really. I needed to hear it. I don’t think too many people will see this emotion out of me, though. That’s not really who I am and it’s why I kept so quiet today- sorry about that, by the way. Thanks for listening to me, Buffy”.

“You’re welcome. I can see how hard this must be for you and I appreciate you being vulnerable. Don’t worry, I’ll keep this between us until you’re ready. You don’t have to worry about me telling anyone”.

Marty knew that was true, and he knew she wasn’t going to run in and tell everyone what she just talked to him about. She was the only person who seemed to understand what it was like not to want to cry in front of everyone, because she didn’t do it often either. She was the only person who gets that.

#sorry this took so long to write but here it is!#andi mack #muffy #marty from the party #buffy driscoll #tyrus #tj kippen #cyrus goodman #am #amber #jonah beck #rachel #fic #one shot #anon #ask #send me asks

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sevenpeaches · 5 years

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About Me Tag

Tagged by the ahga-wife @riceeater22 💜

The rules are:

Tag the person who tagged you

Answer the questions.

Tag 10 people

How tall are you?

5′7 (170 cm)

What color and style is your hair?

Brown with natural highlights that look... copper-ish? in the sun. I dunno, boring old brown. Right now, it’s about shoulder length and messy wavy unless I straighten it.

What color are your eyes?

Hazel?

Do you wear glasses?

Rarely. I wear contacts primarily and only wear my glasses if I’m being lazy and don’t want to put contacts in. I need new glasses tbh, the ones I have are from middle school and look quite dumb on me.

Do you wear braces?

No, my bottom row of teeth could use them though

What is your fashion style?

Ah, how to answer this.. Most of what I currently wear doesn’t reflect my actual style, because I’m too broke to afford what I want (rip). My fashion style depends on the day/my mood. It ranges from cutesy/girly, to athletic wear, rocker chick vibe, chic and preppy, and straight up comfortable hobo. So I suppose my fashion sense is versatile

Full name?

Mina Peaches, Princess of Contradictions, Mother of Cats, Breaker of Hearts, etc etc I’m not giving my full name.

When were you born?

February 24th, 1995

Where are you from and where do you live now?

The US -- New England (any got7 fans around me? No one likes kpop here, come be my friend)

What school do you go to?

I don’t anymore~ all graduated

What kind of student are you?

The one that never shows up to class, yet aces it. Don’t hate me, I put a lot more stress on myself than necessary this way. I procrastinate too much, but absolutely can’t stand not doing well in school. So, I study last minute, write papers last minute, stay up all night the night before something is due. And then I’m all Squidward meme of him looking like hell handing in his work. I used to be the student that wouldn’t study at all, but would still get straight A’s -- until I started going to my last Uni, where classes were actually difficult and I needed to learn how to study properly asap.

Do you like school?

I love learning new things, but I don’t really like the way our education system goes about teaching us. They take out all of the curiosity and fun and just make it so stressful and expensive.

Favorite subject?

Hmm... science and english

Favorite TV show?

Ah so many? Game of Thrones, Grey’s Anatomy, Naruto, Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bok-joo, Dream Knight (had to), Real Got7, Real Thai, literally any show with Got7 or Got7 members in it (Mafia, He is Psychometric), The 100, and many more I can’t think of right now...

Favourite movie?

Just one? Since I can never pick favorites, here’s another list. Almost any Disney movie (specifically The Lion King, Mulan, The Aristocats, Atlantis, so much more). Your Name, The Princess Bride, The Money Pit, LOTR series and The Hobbit, Harry Potter movies, How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days, and more

Favorite books?

Let’s see... Honestly I read the hell out of the Warrior cats series when I was younger, judge me all you want -- I love that universe. A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini, Where the Red Fern Grows by Wilson Rawls was the first book to break my little heart, Winterdance by Gary Paulsen, The Promise of Stardust by Priscille Sibley, Night World series by L.J. Smith, Halo by Alexandra Adornetto. A lot of young adult romance books from middle and highschool as well.

Favorite pastime?

Anything pertaining to Got7 (reading fics, watching content, writing fics, editing pics, gushing about them with others, loving them at all times), watching youtubers like Markiplier and Jacksepticeye. Reading, writing, video games sometimes, finding pretty places to explore in nature

Do you have any regrets?

I regret allowing others take advantage of me and my kindness, and of not putting myself first from the beginning. I regret some of my choices on who I let into my life.

Dream job?

A writer who lives somewhere surrounded by nature, forest or sea idk. Maybe a travel writer. I feel like I would’ve made a good youtuber or streamer, if I had started earlier, like right from the beginning of youtube with all the big name gamers.

Would you like to get married?

If it’s with the right person

Would you like to have kids?

Again, if it’s with the right person

How many?

2? Or maybe just cats. In which case, I’m not limiting how many

Do you like shopping?

Yes, but I’d like it more if I had money~

What countries have you visited?

I’ve never been out of my country. Help, I want to travel so bad

Scariest nightmare you have ever had?

Hm, I’ve had plenty of freaky ones... the most recent I can think of -- It was nighttime and I was in an unfamiliar house. The feeling of dread, tension, and terror was suffocating. I was hiding from... something. Some.. beast, was stalking me. It was like a weird hybrid of a werewolf, one of those deer skull creatures, and a human of some sort. And it was huge. I was sneaking around the house as quiet as I could, but since I didn’t know the house well... I turned a corner, and there it was. Thank goodness I can sometimes take control and lucid dream/wake myself up, because it was leaping for me and my subconscious was like NOPE and woke me tf up.

One that I had when I was a kid stuck with me forever. I was at a birthday party at this old mansion. There were so many kids there, my parents were there too, along with the parents of some of the other kids. We were all playing games and enjoying ourselves, and then we were gathered together while my dad brought the cake out. When I looked at the cake, I realized it was actually the head of some monster. I stepped back in shock, but as I looked around, I noticed that no one was fazed by this. Everyone was acting like it was a normal cake, like they couldn’t see what it really was. The moment my dad started to slice the ‘cake’ I had to get out of there.

So I started running through the halls, trying to find a way out. It became dark and impossible to know where I was. I rounded a corner and saw the silhouette of a woman. Her back was to me. I started to ask if she could help me, but as the words were leaving my mouth, she slowly turned around and severed her own head off. Her head bounced to my feet, eyes stuck open. Blood was spurting out of both her head and the neck of the body that was still standing for a moment too long before crashing to the floor, covering my poor traumatized ass in so much blood. I don’t remember after that, I think I woke up.

Since I’m already on a rant, I’ll just finish with saying that, as a kid, I used to get nightmares about tornadoes all the time. Even though I had never seen one in real life at the time, and I live in a relatively safe place from that kind of weather. And it was always in those dreams that I could not run fast to save my life. I hate those dreams, where your in dream body is as physically useless as your current sleeping body, you can’t move fast, your punches are weak as hell, sometimes you can’t open your eyes or stand. Lots of fun. Okay, rant over. Ask me about my dreams sometimes, they can be pretty cool.

Any enemies?

Honestly, I don’t think so. There’s a lot of people I don’t like, but people don’t tend to have a problem with me. Wanna be my arch nemesis?

Any significant others?

Nah

Do you believe in miracles?

Yes~ life is a miracle, Got7 is a miracle, Ahgase are miracles, the world shows us little miracles each day, even if we don’t recognize them.

How are you?

I’m better than I was earlier today. But now it’s late, and I can’t sleep. What else is new?

I’ll tag: @maddiekira @madeitwang @screechingaussie (only if you want~ 💌)

#tagged #aboutme #about

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rat-apologist · 5 years

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A Semi-In depth Review of Anna Todd’s After

So I’ve been seeing the trailer for the movie adaptation of this book every five seconds on my Instagram feed, and as a proud dyslexic unwilling to sit down and read it, I listened to the audiobook.

Again, these are all my opinions, if you don’t agree that’s okay.

Here is a quick, spoiler free plot synopsis for those who want/need it: Being moved from Wattpad into the real world of publishing, After follows a girl named Tessa, who simultaneously has the mentality of a five year old and an old man from the 1800’s. She is eighteen years old and is going to college to be an English major. Tessa loves control, planning, and books. She's an introvert at heart, and “not like other girls” (i.e. dresses conservatively, is a virgin (the books words, not mine)). She has a shitty mom and a nice, preppy, boyfriend who is still in high school, and her life is completely planned out. That’s all turned upside down when the poster child for emotional abuse named Harden (harry styles) waltzes into her life during a frat party her first week of college. Your typical Wattpad/teen movie drama ensues.

(the actual review under the cut)

This review is chock full of spoilers for Anna Todd’s book After. If you want a good idea of what I thought about this book without any spoilers I’ll just say this: I can really honestly say I was never bored while listening to this book. However, that is not necessarily a good thing. Often times I was just too much in awe of the clunky writing and truly evil supposedly “redeemable” characters to be bored. On a one to five star scale, I’d probably give it a two. More on that later.

Here are the things I liked:

(this one is only applicable to the audiobook) the narrator was amazing, her voice acting was very appropriate (though she did tend to drop accents sometimes- but that is forgiven because of how otherwise amazing her line delivery was- especially considering the quality of the dialogue).

Landon and Dakota were my favorite characters, and even though they had no personalities beyond what they meant to Tess and how they interacted with Harden (Hardin? Again, I listened to the audiobook I’ve got no idea how to spell that lmao) they still made the book better to listen to.

Despite the repetition of plot/narrative structures I can happily say again that I was never really bored.

Okay moving on to more mixed-bag feelings:

So the last chapter was from Harden’s perspective, and I thought that was an interesting idea. Learning what one character thinks, especially since our protagonist is, how you say, a little bad at reading/interacting with other human people. However the execution left something to be desired for me. It quite literally was just the exact same scene we just saw from the previous chapter, but from Hardens perspective instead of Tess’s. Which was just ended up being unnecessarily repetitive at times.

I liked how Tessa tried to be less judgmental throughout the book, however her growth is very, very limited.

I liked the fact that they mentioned they used condoms in pretty much every sex scene, and that most of the time clear verbal consent/clear nonverbal consent was given for the sexual stuff. That does not happen often in books, especially in fan fiction from what I understand.

I like that Tess does stand up for herself, while I could sometimes see myself comparing her to Bella Swan considering how much of her personality does kind of revolve around her relationship with Harden, she certainly was more vocal about her feelings. And boy, did she have a lot of feelings.

Moving on to the things I didn’t like, this is probably going to be a mix on writing, characters, and plot points so bear with me. (I’m saving my many thoughts on the twist for last)

Okay so a big number one is the biggest plot driver, the love story. So, I feel like it goes without saying, but the main relationship is SUPER unhealthy. Harden constantly stalks, manipulates, and bullies Tess throughout the whole book. He is pretty much abusive, using her caring for him to his own advantage and then dropping her when it suits him. Plus his hyper-sexualization of her “virtue” is really really nasty. Tess pretty much cries in every interaction they have together, and even acknowledges how toxic their relationship is, and yet I’m supposed to root for them? Hmm… I don’t think so

The near constant slut shaming and girl hate in this book bothers me, especially when it’s mixed with the hints of “I’m not like other girls” from Tess

The character descriptions kinda weird me out considering how much Harden is described like Harry Styles, like literally a tumblr punk edit of Harry Styles

The dialogue is… bad. To all the writers out there (myself included) make sure you read your dialogue out loud to see if it sounds natural, that way if your Wattpad fanfiction ever does get published, and your book is adapted into audiobook, you’ll avoid a situation like this one. Because, especially listening to it, the dialogue in this book is really really bad. Honest to god it sounds like robots imitating humans are talking to each other, only they’re trying to convince the other robots that they are humans. For some reason Anna Todd avoided using contractions for most of the book, making the characters sound unnatural and completely out of their predefined characters. Why would these college students not use words like “it’s” “we’ll” and “we’re”? It is truly astonishing, and it makes the few uses of contractions really distracting. Normally I don’t give a shit about grammar since I don’t really understand grammar, and normally grammatical errors aren’t that obvious when listening on audio, but the dialogue was seriously that bad.

The pacing was bad, that’s kinda all I have to say. It was generally too quick during plot development but then took a screeching halt for each fight/sex scene (of which there are many)

The repetition of certain words/phrases really got annoying. Everyone's always screaming, biting on their lip, or smirking. Harden is rude, as Tessa mentioned about eight million times, and Tessa finds his dirty talk arousing. We know this, because Todd uses those phrases about a billion times a chapter.

The sex scenes kind of grossed me out. I’m (in general) fine with sex, but the way the sex scenes were written seriously ucked me out. These college kids avoid using words like “penis” “dick” “pussy” etc. and use really really juvenile words like “down there” and “length”. Maybe this is a fanfiction thing, and I’ll admit that I have not read essentially any fanfiction, but it is truly a disturbing way to write sex. Especially since Tessa is written to have the experience and understanding of sex as like a child, not even understand what an orgasm is and unwilling to say words like penis or vagina, something our loverboy Harden is super attracted to, by the by.

I hate that this book uses “girl almost gets assaulted so man can come in and valiantly protect her” trope. It is super gross and I hate it. That’s kind of all I can say, the use of women's pain so that men can get some amount of redemption is awful.

More on Harden: I am sick of the “violent, broken man that I promise I can fix!” trope. It is used to justify and excuse abuse and I hate it. Tess is honestly scared of him several times in the book and it’s played as a personality quirk of his? Like everyone just accepts that’s how he is? I know for the most part we aren’t supposed to “like” him for the first part of the book, but it’s obvious that the author wants us to root for him and Tessa in some capacity. Especially with the inclusion of his perspective at the end, which in a way is exactly the kind of manipulation that he is into so idk. Also he is possessive despite the fact that they weren’t dating, and he is very clear he does not date. That’s already abuse, but of course there is more. On top of that he is cruel, and pretty stuck-up throughout the book- making him pretty much insufferable to me. And all of this shit just gets worse once the twist is introduced, and no amount of his whining from his chapter could at all change that.

The rest of the characters are all either boring, or the worst people you could ever meet. Tess’s mom, Molly, Jace, all really terrible to offset the horror of Harden. To almost justify what he does- because comparatively he doesn’t seem as bad (up until the twist).

The twist. Dear god the twist. So, as it goes it isn’t an extremely inspired twist. I’ve seen it done before in a similar way (I’m looking at you, Ten Things I Hate About You). For those who are wondering: the big twist is that Harden only really pursued Tess in the beginning because after she revealed she is a virgin at a party early on in the book he makes a pricey bet with Zed (another side character only used to add ~drama~ to Tessa and Harden’s relationship) to see who can take her virginity. All of the subsequent bullying, possessiveness, manipulation, etc. were all a ploy to have sex with her before Zed could. I feel like it goes without saying that that’s disgusting, but let me tell you exactly why: at least if he was actually interested in her at first his weird behavior could possibly be passed off as hormones (I wouldn’t like it, but I’d understand it more if you’d try to make that argument), but the fact that it was all for a bet not only makes his disgusting actions worse, but makes the fact that he supposedly falls in love with her so much more annoying. Plus, the fact that he literally tries to trap Tessa in a lease so she can’t leave him, and tries to bribe his friends into silence really shows how little he actually cares about Tessa and her thoughts and feelings.

So, why two stars? Honestly, because I was entertained (for lack of a better word) by this book. Maybe if I actually read it and not just listened to the audiobook it my rating would be lower, maybe if there was just one more sex scene to slow down the pace I would have been more bored. Who knows, but I was entertained. Sometimes by how terrible the dialogue is, by how astonishing the characters decisions were, sometimes by the actual plot. It’s like watching a shitty soap opera, it’s not good by any means, but it certainly keeps your attention.

#pj speaks #book review #after book #after book review

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riseupimagines · 6 years

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You Belong with Me 11

Pairing: It’s a surprise!

College AU

Summary: You’re in love with your best friend Steve-who’s dating a girl who’s all wrong for him. You want him to see he belongs with you. As tensions grow throughout the story, you both learn where you belong and who you belong with and how sometimes who you belong with is not who you expected.

Tell me what you think!

You watched as the mixture in the pot bubbled, just as restless as your heart, but unlike your heart, there was a direct end in cooking. You knew exactly how the recipe would turn out. You didn’t know how your love life would turn out. Not now. Bucky or Steve. Bucky or Steve.

Two months ago you would’ve known in a heartbeat: Steve. And before last night you would’ve thought in a heartbeat Bucky. But he didn’t want you. He had been using you. He’d seen you were vulnerable with Steve and pretended to be your friend and used you…so why couldn’t you stop thinking about him.

Knock knock knock.

You jumped, jerked out of your thoughts.

“Who’s there?” you asked as you walked towards the door. You didn’t hear a response but opened it anyways…then tried to slam it back shut.

“No!” Bucky cried, trying to put his foot in the door and stop you from pushing it closed. You pushed against him and slammed the door.

“Y/N please! I need to talk to you!” he said. You fell against the door, hit by the rush of emotions that you’d felt when you saw him. He’d hurt you and you wanted to hate him for that. You dragged up the memory of him, cold and cruel as he told you he didn’t want anything more with you…but that seemed like a different Bucky than the sweet science geek who’d stay in bed with you to look at stars, and your heart couldn’t forget him.

“Which Bucky wants to talk? The guy who pretended to be my friend and used me?” you spat through the door.

“No! Y/N! Please…I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. But you have to believe that I’d never use you. I never used you. You have every right to be angry-“

“Yes I do! You knew all along! You saw that I was hurt by Steve! You saw that he had carved a hole in my heart! You saw that I needed a friend! Then you pretended to be that friend, pretended to heal my heart when really you were just carving a hole of your own!” you yelled through the door.

“Y/N, I’ve been an asshole but don’t ever doubt for a second that I lo-that I was your friend. I am your friend. And I was trying to make you feel better. I’m sorry that I crossed the line because…you needed a friend from me and I was always your friend. I still am your friend. And I know I messed up but all I ask is that you give me a chance to prove myself,” he said.

You took a deep breath and opened the door. He shoved something in his pocket and looked up at you with hopeful eyes.

“You mean that? You were really my friend?” you asked.

“I mean it Y/N. I lo-care about you. I’ve always cared about you. And I’ve always been your friend. I always will be. I’ll be whatever you need me to be,” he said.

You smiled and hesitantly pulled him into a hug.

He sighed and slumped in relief, pulling you into his arms, murmuring lovingly words you couldn’t hear. As his warmth and the familiar smell and essence of him washed over you, you wanted desperately to stay with him. To pull him into a hug and ask him to come in and cook with you or watch movies with you or cuddle all night…but then you realized that he had said he would be your friend. And only your friend. And you couldn’t do things like that with your friend. You smothered the feelings as you pushed him away and tried to understand why you felt slightly disappointed.

As you closed the door, you felt relieved. Your friendship with Bucky was real, even though he only wanted friendship. And with that ironed out you finally unblocked Steve and Bucky on your phone. An hour later when Steve texted you, you responded for the first time in weeks, but you weren’t as eager as you would’ve been. Now you were cautious.

STEVE: So are you doing anything this Friday? Would you like to go to dinner with me?

Y/N: I’m not sure. You’re moving awfully fast for someone who just got out of a relationship

STEVE: You’re right. I’m sorry. Can we work our way up? How about coffee? That’s casual.

Y/N: That sounds good.

A few months ago you would’ve been jumping at the chance for a date with Steve. Now you were hesitant, and you didn’t know why.

*@*

The next morning, before class you met Steve at a coffee shop on campus. He was the perfect gentleman, pulling out your chair, buying your drink, complimenting you profusely. Then when he was trying to maneuver around the chairs with two hot drinks in his hand, he tripped, spilling hot liquid over his sweater, laughing at himself.

You laughed with him as you helped him clean up, teasing him about being clumsy, just like you did when you were friends before.

“Bucky always said I should’ve taken dancing classes with him. It would’ve helped with the clumsiness,” Steve joked.

“Yeah and today it would’ve helped you not get burnt,” you responded.

He shook his head, “Didn’t feel a thing. This sweater’s so thick that it absorbed all the liquid like a sponge,” he said gesturing towards the thick, preppy, sweater that didn’t look like his style.

“Why are you wearing the sponge sweater anyways? Doesn’t seem like your style,” you said.

He shrugged.

“Crystal always made me wear stuff like this when we went out. Said that I look more sensitive and like less of a meathead jock,” he said.

“Steve! That’s awful. Why’d you let her talk to you like that? Take it off. First of all it’s soaked anyways. I don’t care what Crystal says. She didn’t deserve you. I want you to be yourself around me. You can be yourself around me. I’m your friend,” you said.

He smiled and pulled the sweater over his head, revealing an army exercise shirt underneath.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

After that the two of you fell into the easy conversation of the friendship you’d missed and you didn’t notice how his face fell when you said you were his friend.

The next day when Bucky showed up to your class with a picnic basket, renewing the tradition of your picnics together, that cemented the precarious balancing of Bucky and Steve. You wouldn’t allow yourself to get closer to Steve who wanted to be close to you, but you couldn’t seem to stay away from Bucky even though he said he wanted to be your friend. And the lines kept blurring.

The two of you had been walking to the lake for lunch one day when you ran into Steve.

“So…it’s been a few weeks. You think we can go on that date now? I’ve got something really nice planned,” he said. Bucky stiffened beside you. You felt your face heating up and you wanted to run away from the situation. Why were you so uncomfortable with Steve asking you out in front of Bucky?

“I don’t know Steve. I already told you. I’ll talk to you later ok?” you didn’t wait for an answer before running off.

Bucky caught up with you only moments later.

“What was that about doll? You’re not going out with Steve?” he asked.

You shook your head.

“No…we’re just friends.” You said.

He smiled slightly.

“Why?” he asked. You couldn’t tell him.

@alexfayer @lovely-geek @dragonselene @itzmegaaaaaaan @storiesandgarbage @thespottedwolf-blog @bucky-barnes-child @fuckthatfeeling @disagreetoagree @chantelle-x0x @taylorsbread @wantingtobekorra @gotta-get-back-to-johnlock @sunshine-27-grape-juice @widowcf @metalarmlover @kali-mav @superwholock-fangir1 @flirtswithdanger @givemefreedomorgivemefries @thefridgeismybestie @bornfortherainydays @mav-and-goose

#marvel imagines #marvel imagine #marvel avengers #avengers imagine #avengers imagines #captain america imagines #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers x reader

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xeina-channel · 5 years

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Bus Ride (Short Story)

They had been riding the bus for most of the day. As Gregg gazed out the window, the sun slowly edged down towards the ground. He was pressed comfortably against the wall, just quietly enjoying the contact. He found himself startled from his day-dreaming as the weight that had been pinned against him shifted slightly.

“What’ya thinkin’ about?” David asked, turning his body to face his friend as he spoke.

“Not anything really, just kind of feeling shitty,” Gregg replied, his head still facing the window.

“Feel like talking about it?”

“Not particularly, it's kind of expected really, so I think it's just something I have to sit through.”

“Alright.” David turned away from his friend, letting his eyes slide out of focus. He had found it to be a good way to center himself, sliding his vision over the blurry surroundings always made him take a metaphorical step back and reevaluate his situation. He traced the figure of a bundled up woman, her assortment of half-packed, half-carried cargo apparent even with his eyes glazed over.

David breathed, then turned back to his friend. “Why don’t we go over things- like a sort of recap of our best moments. I feel like if we just sit here in silence we’ll regret it later.” He stared at Gregg, waiting for a response. When none was given, he began talking anyway.

“We met in first grade, right? You’d been sitting alone and I invited you over to play kickball. You kind of just attached yourself to me after that. My parents used to call you the palest shadow in the world, with how you followed me around.” He chuckled a little, lost in his thoughts of the past.

Gregg straightened a tad, eyes still locked on the window. He’d never told David that he’d been sitting there on the edge of blacktop since the first day. The only reason he’d gone with David was because of how insistent he’d been. Whether or not he knew it, his almost desperate nagging had been a major factor in why he’d eventually gone with him. He’d felt almost guilty turning him down, almost like he’d been denying the child some necessary function. When he’d eventually said yes he’d felt almost like a mother playing with her son, more a guardian making sure the other was happy than a friend on equal terms. He found himself smiling a bit despite himself. “Yeah, you really grew on me I guess. Every weekend I was at your house, sometimes I’d just go over without telling anyone and my mom would end up starting a small-scale search party just to find me.”

David laughed, then began finishing the story Gregg had started. “Oh God, yeah. I remember that at like eleven-thirty she and about twenty other moms just showed up asking if we knew where you were. My door didn’t have a peephole or anything so I just opened the door into the front of a paranoid mob. When we actually pulled you out to prove to them you hadn’t been kidnapped you just acted like you’d had no idea what you did wrong.”

“Yeah I was a pretty weird kid, I guess.” Gregg replied absently, “They didn’t let me go out for a month after that, spent the whole time just telling me over and over that I couldn’t be doing things like that. Even funneled the message through you once if I remember correctly.”

“Yeah, even had me practice off a little script beforehand.” said David, “I mean, I guess the message did stick though. I can’t remember you ever just walking over to my house again.”

“It stuck for a little while.” Gregg said, raising his head fully from its station at the window. “Once I could drive it was back to mysteriously disappearing every few days. Only difference is that by then my mom had lived through enough of my shit that she was mostly willing to just hope I’d find my way back in time for school.”

“I always wanted to know, where the hell did you get that car? Not to be rude, but it was way too nice for your family to have just bought it for you, and unless you’re seriously hiding something from me, you’ve never had a job.”

Gregg snorted, almost indignant. “I’ve told you a thousand times, I just found it. I woke up, and it was sitting unlocked on the driveway. At first I thought the neighbors had someone over and they just weren’t the type who locked their doors, but after a few weeks of this fancy-ass car just sitting in our driveway, blocking traffic, I went inside to check if I could put it into neutral to just push it to the curb and the keys were tucked into the bottom of the seat. Wrapped all up in a note with my name on it.”

“Weird.” replied David, drawing the word out so the “r” reverberated in the back of his throat. “Ever find out who dropped it off?”

“Nope. At first my mom thought I’d finally gone off the deep end and stole some guy’s car, but when we got the license plates checked it was already linked to me. She didn’t want me driving it at first in case there was a bomb on it or it was wired to fail or something, but I just started taking it out and she never really did much to stop me.”

“Yeah, you and that car…” David started, “Kids started some wild rumors about it, you know? Some people said you ran a drug smuggling ring and used your profits to buy it, even heard some guys saying you worked for the FBI and they’d given you the car as part of the job.” Gregg nodded, he’d been asked countless times about the origin of the car so he knew a few of the conspiracy theories surrounding it. “Didn’t help that you didn’t bother to show up half the time.”

Gregg shifted again, almost recoiling from the direction the conversation had taken.

Whereas he’d been almost nuzzled up against his friend, he now pushed himself away from the man. He slumped, hugging the wall and again focusing intently on the dark surroundings of the city.

“I know you hate talking about this, but I need a straight answer before I can leave. You’d been doing good. I think a dean had talked to you or something, and you’d built up a month-long stretch where you were coming to school every day. The next day was my valedictorian's speech and I'd got you to promise that you’d show up no matter what, we even made plans to eat out later. I made a joke about how with your fancy car I could ditch the school in style. Then you didn’t show up. I was mad for a bit, but once I calmed down, I guess I realized it wasn’t really anything big. Missing dinner and making me walk home wasn’t really that big of a deal. Then you didn’t show up the next day, or the next, and a week and a half later you drive up to my house and waltz up to me like you didn’t have the entire town thinking that you died in a car crash.” He stared into the back of Gregg’s head, his eyes boring holes in his friend’s scalp as he awaited a response.

Gregg stared out the small square-shaped bus window. His eyes slightly unfocused, he traced the lines of light left in his vision by the headlights of passing cars. Why hadn’t he showed up?

He remembered saying goodbye to his mother and then driving to the school. As he was about to pull into the parking lot, he had suddenly reversed, cutting backward through traffic and settling on the side of the road. He’d sat there for a very long time. Every time he’d tried to turn the ignition to move back into the lot an image shot through his mind, disrupting what he’d been doing as if it was a knife hacking through a length of rope.

He could see himself staring up at his friend David, all decked out in his stupid blue dress and hat as he spoke about inspirations and why everything worked out for the hardworking student. Looking all stupid and preppy as he tossed his stupid blue hat into the air in unison with the other stupid fucking students. Dressed in his jeans and hoodie, Gregg could see a cascade of stupid blue hats falling like rain from the sky.

So he hadn’t gone in. He’d driven aimlessly for days, drifting vaguely westward with no real destination in mind. He’d slept in his car, cracking the windows so as not to suffocate as the temperature slowly increased. He’d driven through Hollywood to the West Coast and had seen the sea. He’d stopped for a whole ten minutes, not leaving his car and had just watched the waves run back and forth over the shoreline. Then, he’d turned around and drove the long trip back. He’d arrived back home, not having showered in more than a week and not having eaten in three days and had gone to see his friend.

“My stop,” said David, cutting off Gregg’s mental replay. The man stood gravely, gathering his luggage and hoisting them with obvious effort.

Gregg stood, frailly moving out from the bus aisle, then clasped his friend in a hug that was a little too tight to be comfortable. He released him, “G-good luck with college.” he sputtered. His friend nodded, then wordlessly left the bus. Gregg sat down again at his window seat. He stayed there for a very long time.

#short story #writing #writeblr #college #dropout #fiction #creative writing #coming of age #critique appreciated

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almarchive · 5 years

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hello, its nora bringing yet another problematic character. this is a spoiled daddy’s bitch, raised in a farmhouse in vermont, who’s never really had to work for anything in her life and doesn’t want to. studying class civ cos she thinks it makes her sound smart, but actually hates fuckin latin and just loves learning about feckless hedonism and the festivals of bacchus. was expelled from princeton in her first year so her parents basically paid her way into lockwood. loves the smell of libraries and listening to french music from a tinny record player in knee socks. has a twin brother called otto who is basically guy bellingfield from the riot club and tbh knowing my lack of self control i‘ll probs end up bringing him here too.

bio is below the cut, like this post to be bombarded with plotting messages x

it might be HER SOPHOMORE year but I still think ALMA OLIVE PUTNAM looks exactly like ALICE PAGANI and sometimes I think the FEMALE is actually them. Of course I’m wrong, as they’re 20 and studying CLASSICAL CIVILISATION while living in AUDAX here at Lockwood. The TAURUS can be rather TENACIOUS and MAGNETIC, but also kind of FANCIFUL and DOUBLE-CROSSING. Their most played song on Spotify was LAISSE TOMBER LES FILLES by FRANCE GALL, so I think that says a lot.

THE SHORT FORM.

— born in vermont in a big old farmhouse. her great-great-grandfather moved to america as an immagrant and worked on a plantation, made his wa up cos he could speak a lot of languages and therefore win more people over. for the last two generations, putnam men have owned the farm and do little of the dirty work. big in the meat industry.

— both her parents had Large Personalities, so alma’s never really been shy around adults, even as a kid she’d speak to them in a forthright, confident manner, and because she was always surrounded by adults, she’s always seemed a bit Wise Beyond Her Years. — very much a consolidation of every character in the secret history. has a morbid longing for the picturesque at all costs. obsessed with w.h. auden and the beat poets. — ”aestheticism is the only thing worth pursuing and even that is pointless” — is majoring in classical civilisation. can read ancient greek and latin. also speaks french. — studies hard and plays hard. she gets top marks but it’s because academia is literally her life, she loves the smell of libraries, the ancient smoke of learning, of feeling like old wine in a new bottle reincarnated from the bones of some old, dead witchy woman who invented a cure for cowpox or somethin. — isn’t a foward-planner, however. frida prefers to leave her options open, play the field, live in a spontaneous manner so her study style is mostly cramming a few days before a test, or staying up all night writing an essay on a massive adrenaline boost powered by red bull or probably adderall, scribbling (or typing) furiously into the night. — pretentious motherfucker. LOVES poetry, especially the romantics, loves morbid ones too, edgar allen poe, sylvia plath, allen ginsberg, she just loves them all. can’t get enough. her favourite films are like…. wanky artfilm independent european cinema. especially french new wave. “what do you think of goddard’s work??” while snorting a line off someone’s sink at 5am on a school night, but you can bet she’ll make it to that 9am class. — very Intelligent and Beautiful and knows both of those facts. vocal feminist. soapbox sadie. Very Passionate about Issues. plays devil’s advocate. humanitarian, vegan. — judgemental but takes great care not to appear so. — just wants to be Loved By All. a party girl ; doesn’t rlly enjoy it, jst feels she Should enjoy it. — tries to be an Enigma. wants to be mysterious and unreadable because that’s what books have taught her makes women Desirable and Interesting and Cool. — obsessively devours mystery and thriller novels. she herself is a gillian flynn book waiting to happen. — act like the flower but be the serpent under it. is a user. manipulative. leads people on. will throw another student under the bus to demonstrate her own intelligence and integrity — heavily involved in the theatre society. loves attention. — has an addictive personality. seems unable to do anything in a small dose, she has to let it utterly consume her. with sports, she’s fiercely competitive, runs track, played lacrosse at school, now is a cheerleader probably. with alcohol, it’s never a shot, it’s a whole bottle – wine or whiskey – she’ll be table dancing before the night’s up and making out with someone she’ll regret in the morning. — her clothing style is like…. vintage thrift store but make it preppy. berets and cute hats, neck scarves, large fluffy cardigans or like those leathery jackets with big suede fringes on them, mini skirts (very 70s), and knee high socks or boots. quite often she’ll be in sports kit, maybe a cute tennis skirt, n when she’s feeling casual she’ll wear like, a talking heads tshirt with a pair of mom jeans and converse, but otherwise, the library is her catwalk. — relates to ophelia from hamlet and sibyl vane in dorian gray. weirdly obsessed with women who commit suicide. loves jackson pollock paintings and abstract art. – likes old things. old books, old music, old houses, it reminds her of happier times like when she wasn’t alive. buys all her music on vinyl and has a gramphone because “The Sound quality is Better” kfdsjj.

PLOTS.

here are some generic wanted plots but by all means message me so we can flesh them out more if any strike ur interest:

study buddies !! someone who is equally unprepared and so spends all night in the library with alma before a big deadline, maybe they even met in the library

if they’re from new england or vermont, then cousins . second cousins / extended family / family friends – probably spat volavons on your character once as children, omg childhood friends !

people who live on the same floor and only know each other from brief interactions in the lift or the canteen

frinds !! unlikely friends !! toxic friends !! former best friends separated by sporting or academic rivalries !

hockey / cheer friends who are on other teams but who she absolutely loves playin against!!!

fellow academics who like meeting up to discuss latin and greek ! gimme a secret society bonding by their love of ancient learning

i reckon she’s in a lot of societies, definitely the film club, maybe works as a projectionist at the uni cinema if they have one so give me ppl affiliated with that, give me fellow wanky pretentious art-lovers and poets and historians who will go to museums and galleries with her and listen to the velvet underground on vinyl

people she gets mortally fucked off her tits with at parties

people who think she is throwing her academic potential away by caving to hedonistic impulse

people she has drunkenly made out with, hooked up with, or regularly sleeps with casually, maybe even a friend w benefits she is repressing feelings for, i love angst,

people she used to date or unrequitedly likes, but to them it’s just a physical thing, give me all the thirsty angst plots, and maybe some softness too, i need some religion in this girls life, she is a roman catholic after all

FULL BIOGRAPHY.

alma olive putnam.

intro.

The girl is a knife. Razor-sharp, double-edged, the bright shine of a two-faced, lovely thing. Silver like the secrets you magpie thief from other heads. You’re a scavenger of knowledge, of tidbits, of gossip to lock away for later use and late-night re-inspection. A mind is like a clock if you get to learn the pieces. Bit by bit, you dismantle the inner workings of the brains that tick around you – how easy it is to change it’s path, how words and their meanings can make a person laugh or cry in an instant. To have the power to control that is to be a God. It’s the power trip you crave wielding pom-poms in your hands; a possessive need for control that a younger you, small and weak, never had as a child. Small lips, smaller smile, a doll clutched in your too-hungry fingers, hard enough to shatter the bones of a real infant. You cut your hair with your mother’s kitchen scissors before the autumn falls, rendering you out of season, unfit for the cold weather that beats against the nape of your neck, where a stick-and-poke marks the star you were born under ; the bull. “Mama, when will I be a Queen?” As soon as they find a crown small enough not to slip from your head.

biography.

If you get hungry enough, they say, you start eating your own heart. Hands red, stained by pomegranate seeds, the empty pulp of its shell splattered on your thighs you find yourself wondering – what would it be like to want? In the beginning, you never knew hunger. Twins, born under the same star, you first, him second -- a nuclear family. Never a sister to compete with, you were always the cherry pie of your parents’ hearts. Raven-haired, blue-eyed, beautiful baby of mine. The townhouse in Vermont and the summer house in Lyon, you wanted for nought, showered with attention, saddled with gifts - hardly a wonder you came to rely on such affection as a confirmation of your own worth.

At eight years old you first met death, blood on a gingham-print dress, a smear of it over your cheekbone and the pulp of a mangled animal at your feet murdered by the hands of a stable boy. “Alma, my precious baby, you get away from that filth,” your Mama would cry from the upstairs balcony – cigar in one hand and a bloody Mary in the other – though whether the filth she referred to was the dead pig or the boy with a kernel of corn in his mouth, you never did find out.

Your family earned their keeps in farming, great-grandfather Wolfgang Hildegarde a German immigrant, great-grandmother Maura Lisbon a prairie girl. They fell hopelessly in love between troughs and pig-shit, working for three dollars a day at a farm their descendants would later own, trade deals with the Indians, vacations to Calcutta, your father Todd Putnam in the kind of sheepskin coat his father’s father could only dream of owning. He worked hard so that you’d never have to. Your mama once asked – you heard it through the window, rounding cartwheels across the picket-fenced lawn – could he not find a respectable career rather than selling shrink-wrapped pork for a dime a dozen? That blood money had no business raising a child. You look far back enough, Edie, your father had said in his low, strong voice that could bring a Civil War to silence, and I think you’ll find that all money is blood money.

Language was never fickle on your tongue, French dinner time talk by the time you were out of your Hush Puppy shoes, your mama fixing the au pair a smile as she fixed herself another martini. You learned the clarinet at four and how to dance with the grace of a swansong at six, ethereal under a spotlight, an audience captive in the palm of your hand. By eight you knew that you’d always been destined to be loved. Loved so hard they would want to taste you, bite into the soft plump of your cheek and eat you alive. That was how magnetic you wanted to feel. But mother hamsters eat their own young when penned in together too long, and soon you became too wild, too restless, another package on your father’s delivery invoice, box-shipped out to English boarding school.

Fitting in had never been something you had to concern yourself with. You were always the shiny new toy the other girls wanted to play with, bright like a dropped coin from a magpie’s beak. Wherever you went, you seemed to leave a trail of awe, pig-tailed Harriet’s adoring you, imitating you, teachers forgiving your class-time chatter for the sake of your wild heart and the restless spirit you possessed. Tell us what it’s like in the States, Alma. They’d coo, enamoured by your Hollywood drawl. Does your father own a gun? You hardly knew. Barely even knew the colour of his hair, for the scarce amount of times he’d stoop to kiss your cheek, though you’d tell silver-tongued tales if it’d guaranteed you an audience. When you learned how to smile at the right times, and that flattery would get you everywhere, it soon became apparent that charm would pave the yellow brick road to success even when your lack of drive couldn’t.

The road you followed – gum-snapping, roller-blading, friendship bands all up your arm – eventually led you to small-town fame. Bright-eyed and gingham skirted, you’d always known you were more. There was a hunger in you to be something extraordinary, a want so adamant to be imagined and desired that it was almost savage. In leather-bound volumes and a circle of stones, you were Helen of Troy, the girl for whom they’d launch a thousand ships. But there’s so much rage within you, collecting like sawdust in cavernous parts. Hockey helped. There was something grounding about the feeling of a stick clasped in your hands. Sweat. Stiff knuckles. Feet pounding the earth. The smash of wood against flesh in the scram of a game, passed off as mere enthusiasm. “Slipped, sorry.” Hockey is the one thing you had that was yours alone – a feral instinct that motivates you to play; something primitive within you that sparks an energy like no other. On the pitch, you feel alive.

#lw:intro #i shd probs have done a bullet point version of this but cba #see also: rich bitch with daddy issues - loves attention - wants to have a villa and wear nice dressing gowns and drink wine all day

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strawberriestyles · 6 years

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Chapter 6

(Banner made by the loveliest @harry-nofookingway-styles)

Harry X OFC (AU)

In which Melody is reacquainted with an old classmate named Harry, and must keep afloat in the violent, criminal lifestyle of an underground boxer.

Read previous parts here.

Author’s note: I HAD SOOO MUCH FUN WITH THIS CHAPTER!! I feel like the characters start to develop personalities here. As always, please send some feedback and enjoy!!

The entire walk across town, Harry regretted ever saying yes to this stupid exhibit. He had buttoned his shirt up to his throat but felt like he was being choked, so he unbuttoned it to the center of his chest as he traveled along the sidewalk. He was sweating, for some reason, beneath the material of his black dress shirt and the jacket that sat overtop. He peeled the extra layer from his arms as he turned onto the street Melody had written on the napkin in his hand.

When he reached the correct address, Harry checked the flat number on the napkin and then stuffed it back into a pocket of his jacket. He walked inside the building and took the stairs up to the third floor, until he found the right door. He was really sweating and he didn’t know why, but he undid another button on his shirt before knocking.

“Coming!”

Harry shifted from foot to foot as he waited for the door to open. When it did, he found Melody in a lacey green dress. She was busy putting an earring in, but she stopped when she saw Harry. He was dressed in all black. She noticed a silver cross that glittered against the bare skin of his chest, where the buttons of his shirt were neglected. It seemed as though he had tried to tame his hair, too. She also noticed that the bruise on his cheekbone hadn’t completely faded. Instead, it had turned a sickly yellow. The skin was still swollen.

“Jeans?” Melody asked as her eyes fell to his lower half. They were black and skin-tight, and if no one looked too closely, she was sure it wasn’t noticeable. But the pairing with his nice shirt had her stifling a laugh.

“Yeah,” Harry said, finally peeling his eyes from the low cut of Melody’s dress and looking down at his pants. “Yeah. Didn’ have any dress pants.”

“You look nice,” she complimented as she slipped the back onto her earring and reached for her jacket. Harry wasn’t good at taking compliments and he was even worse at giving them. He waited silently for her to pull the coat over her shoulders and then reach for her clutch. She joined him in the hallway and then shut the door behind her, looking up at Harry expectantly. “You ready?”

“Aren’ yeh gonna lock the door?”

Melody glanced at the entrance to her flat and shrugged. “I don’t, usually.”

“Lock the goddamn door, Melody,” Harry ordered her, shaking his head in disapproval. “D’yeh have any clue what people in this city are like?”

“I’ve never had a thing stolen from me,” Melody protested, even as she reached into her clutch for her keys.

“I don’ care how many things yeh’ve had stolen or not. ‘S bloody stupid t’keep your door unlocked.”

Melody sighed, sliding her key into the door and turning it until she heard the lock click into place. She felt as though she was being reprimanded by her father. She dropped her keys back into her clutch and snapped it shut, raising an eyebrow at Harry. “Are you happy now? Can we go? You were already ten minutes late.”

“Yeah,” Harry muttered under his breath as he shoved his hands into his pockets and turned to tromp back down the stairs. “Bloody thrilled. Ecstatic. Don’ even lock the fuckin’ door t’your place...”

Melody followed him and was more than surprised when he held the front door open for her. She passed him and began to walk up the street in the direction of the gallery. Harry could smell the perfume that lingered in her wake as he trailed after her.

“So, what,” Harry began after a few minutes of silence. He had been waiting for Melody to speak, but it was apparent that she wasn’t going to. Maybe she was trying not to annoy him anymore than she already had. He appreciated it, but the silence was making him uncomfortable for some reason. “‘S this place gonna be full o’ all your preppy, rich friends?”

Melody laughed at him, turning to fix her gaze on his face. “Do I look rich to you?”

Harry let his eyes wander down Melody’s bare legs to the wedges on her feet and then back up to her head, where part of her hair was tied back and the rest of it fell in curls around her shoulders. He raised his eyebrows. She certainly didn’t look poor.

“Right now? Yeh want me t’answer that?”

Melody grinned, facing forward again. They were nearing the gallery. She could see a few of her classmates standing outside in a huddle, smoke unfurling from their mouths into the chilly air. Her legs had been prickling with goosebumps since she stepped onto the sidewalk.

“Yeh definitely didn’ look rich in the hoodies yeh wore t’Brute’s,” Harry observed. His eyes landed on the group of Melody's classmates, dragging on cigarettes. His fingers itched to reach for one. “Not so sure ‘bout it now.”

Melody greeted the students at the entrance to the gallery with a smile. They nodded back and then fixed Harry with curious stares. He glared back.

Melody opened the door and Harry held it for her as she stepped inside. He followed closely behind as she led him to the first piece of artwork, shedding her coat along the way and resting it over her arm. The piece was a sketch of a woman’s face, with thick, parted lips and intense eyes and a beautifully wild afro that reached the edges of the page. Harry was thoroughly impressed with the artistry of it. A college student had drawn this?

Melody admired the piece and then moved on. Harry trailed behind her. He wasn’t as enamored with the art after that first piece. They were more abstract and seemed to be made by students whose knowledge of art didn’t expand much further than Jackson Pollock. Instead, he let his eyes wander the area that they were in.

The floors were a dark tile and the walls a blank white canvas. Can lights spotted the ceiling at even intervals. In the center of the room, Melody’s classmates milled about. Some of them were speaking with older people that Harry assumed to be their parents. A server appeared to Harry’s left, holding a silver tray full of hors d’oeuvres.

“Crostini?” the man offered, holding the platter out toward Harry. Harry stared down at the food. What the hell was a crostini?

“Thank you,” Melody said from his right as she reached to pluck a piece from the plate. She took a bite and looked up at Harry, nodding. “They’re good,” she assured him.

Harry hesitated before taking his own food. It was some type of toast topped with a spread and veggies. He took a bite and was pleasantly surprised.

“What kinda cheese is tha’?” he asked around a mouthful of crostini.

“Oh, it’s not real cheese,” Melody explained, swiping at her lip with the side of her thumb. She laughed at Harry’s horrified, confused expression. “There are a lot of vegans in my class.”

Harry stared disgustedly down at the toast and fake cheese in his fingers. He slid it back onto the tray, wiping his hand on the side of his pants. Melody’s eyes widened. She thrusted her clutch into Harry’s hands and pulled his toast from the platter.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized to the server. “He’s not used to events like this.”

The server gave Harry a strange look as he walked away. Melody laughed when he was out of earshot. Harry wondered why he was even here.

“Classy,” Melody said. She took another bite of her first crostini as she moved onto the next painting.

“Are we almost done?” Harry asked as he followed her, ignoring her comment.

“What?” Melody turned around to look at him, pausing mid-chew. “Harry, we’re not even halfway through the gallery.”

Harry sighed, twirling Melody’s clutch between his fingers. He glanced up at the next painting and tilted his head. It was a landscape, a rolling meadow that reached back to a treeline. The interesting part of it wasn’t the setting, though. It was the abnormal coloring. The trees in the back were healthy and full, glinting green in the sunlight. Toward the bottom of the canvas, however, the colors faded into grays and whites and ultimately, where flowers started to bloom in the foreground, darkness.

“What do you think?” Melody asked, noting the way that Harry had leaned forward.

Harry glanced at her and then back to the painting, settling back on his heels. He shrugged nonchalantly. “‘S nice.”

“Just nice?”

Harry turned his head again and found Melody looking at him expectantly. He frowned.

“‘S it yours?”

Melody nodded hesitantly and then turned to look at the painting, gnawing nervously at her toast.

“You painted this?” Harry asked, pointing to the canvas.

Melody didn’t even nod this time. She just glanced at him briefly and then moved on to the next drawing. Harry stared back at the painting and found a penciled signature in the corner. M. Rhoden.

“No,” Harry said, pacing behind her to catch up, “no, I like it.”

Melody hummed as if she didn’t believe him and then finished eating the remainder of his crostini.

“‘M serious,” he insisted. “‘S really good.”

Melody smiled at him. He wasn’t sure why he was being so nice to her, why he couldn’t stand the idea of her thinking he didn’t like her painting. But that smile she gave him almost made him drop her clutch.

“Really? Do you think so?”

Harry nodded, holding the clutch out to her. She took his from his hand and nodded appreciatively in response.

“Thank you,” she said.

The two of them moved through the gallery silently after that. They were offered glasses of champagne, and if there was one thing Harry knew how to deal with, it was alcohol. Sometimes, Melody would lean forward to examine a piece of art, clutching her champagne flute to her chest while Harry stood feet behind her with an empty glass. He was so grateful that he even thanked her when she offered him the rest of her drink.

They had almost reached the end of the exhibit when Harry glanced down at Melody and found her eyes trained across the room. An uncomfortable red blush had creeped up the sides of her neck and into her cheeks. Harry followed her line of vision to find a man chatting animatedly with a girl.

“Wha’s wrong?” he asked Melody.

“Huh?” Melody spun her head around. “Nothing. Are you ready to go?”

Harry glanced down the line of canvases that they had yet to see and shrugged. “I mean, yeah.”

Melody nodded silently and began walking toward the exit.

“Wha’? Is tha’ your ex or somethin’?”

Melody didn’t have time to answer before a rather unpleasant voice projected loudly across the room.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Harry twisted around to find the man that Melody had been staring at. He had taken a few large strides in their direction. His eyes were widened, his mouth parted in surprise. Harry could see Melody’s entire body go rigid.

“So, this is why you don’t have any free time?” the man asked. “That’s why you ran off to the bar? You had a thing for the boxer?”

“Oi, watch what yeh’re sayin’, now,” Harry snapped.

Melody swallowed nervously, shaking her head toward Harry. “Cooper, it’s not like that.”

“It’s not like what? You didn’t ditch me for this dude without an explanation? If you’re gonna be a bitch, that’s fine, just don’t lie about it.”

Harry had heard enough. He let go of the jacket that had been draped over his arm and grabbed Cooper by the collar, shoving him into a wall of the gallery so hard that a canvas fell. Melody gasped, covering her mouth. The rest of the voices in the gallery fell silent. Somewhere across the room, a champagne flute shattered on the tile floor.

“Yeh gonna keep runnin’ your mouth?” Harry demanded. Cooper opened his mouth to speak but Harry pressed his forearm to the lower part of his throat. “Yeh don’ speak t’her tha’ way,” he whispered. Melody could barely hear the words as he uttered them. “Yeh hear me?”

Harry shook Cooper when there was no reply. Melody stepped forward, grasping at the back of his shirt.

“Harry, that’s enough.”

Harry stared menacingly down at Cooper, who had gone bright red in the face. He grunted when he felt Melody tug on his shirt again and finally pushed away from Cooper.

“Watch your mouth,” Harry warned as he bent to pick up his discarded jacket. Cooper remained silent and straightened the collar of his shirt, peering around the room to see everyone staring at them.

“Let’s go,” Melody murmured, grasping Harry by the arm and leading him toward the exit. She avoided everyone’s gaze until they were outside. Then she let go of Harry, staring out at the traffic that crept along the street.

“I don’ get it,” Harry said after a moment. They began to walk back toward Melody’s flat as he spoke. “Is he an ex or not?”

“No, not really,” Melody answered. “We went on one date.”

“To a match?” Harry asked, perplexed. “He took yeh on a date to an illegal boxin’ match?”

Melody nodded. She was slightly reassured that someone else found the idea as ridiculous as she did.

“Seems like a complete git, ‘f yeh ask me.” Harry shook his head. Melody slipped her arms into her jacket, pulling the material taut around herself. “Yeh’ve got some poor decision-makin’ skills.”

“Oh, don’t,” Melody griped. “He was nice when he asked me out. And I have poor decision-making skills? You’re basically a criminal and you were about to beat him up in front of a crowd of people! My classmates, by the way!”

“Hey, you were the one tha’ invited me!” Harry snapped back, turning his head to place burning eyes on her.

Melody huffed and tucked her hands into her pockets. She took a moment to collect herself and then nodded.

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

Harry furrowed his eyebrows, swiveling his head to watch where he was walking. The temperature had dropped even further. He could see his breath rising in the cold air as he slipped back into his jacket.

Neither of them talked again until they were inside Melody’s apartment building and up on the third floor. She was still shivering from the cold as she twisted her key in the door. She turned to Harry when it was unlocked.

“Thank you for coming with me tonight,” she said. She opened her mouth to continue, but Harry thought he already knew what she was going to say. Even if you embarrassed me. Even if you don’t know not to put your food back on the tray. Even if you can’t help but start fights with every man you meet.

“Yeah,” Harry said, turning away from her. “Just remember what you promised.”

“Harry!” Melody called after him, but he was already treading down the stairs. She heard the front door open and then heard it slam shut, and she didn’t think that she had ever been so confused.

Chapter 7

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles writing #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles fic #harry styles brutality

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toxicityrp · 6 years

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NARCISSUS ● THE SOCIALITE ● CLOSED

❝ When this little shit came into the group, I had no idea what was running through Anthrax’s brain. But after a while, you really see their worth. They’re charming and get the connections we need. They tell me the gossip, I dish it out. Perfect duo or what? ❞

THE SINNER. TW: SUBSTANCE & FAMILIAL ABUSE, DEPRESSION, SUICIDAL THOUGHTS

Here’s the thing about growing up in a house built entirely on looks and lies: a kid learns to get very, very good at things like working a room, hiding in plain sight, and flashing a grin so charming anyone could fall for it. Julian picked up everything they know about projecting confidence and style from their wreck of a home. Sure, it looked nice from the outside—both their parents had Wall Street ties, the houses they owned were huge and immaculate, and there was not a reason in the world that anyone could find to dislike them. All that money had to go to something, right? Too bad the smokescreen was only for outsiders. Mrs. Donovan was all smiles for everyone except her child, who could never quite seem to do anything right. Even when their skin was marred with bruises and cuts designed to sting unseen, who would believe their glamorous mother was anything other than perfect? Their father never seemed to care much for them, so no luck there either.

If that was just the way it was, then Julian would adapt. They became the perfect little prize to parade around at parties, dapper in little suits and a little too clever with sly jokes for their own good. They did well in school, they practiced hard at the piano, they did everything right. And it wasn’t enough. Still the criticism, still the accusations and insults and pain. They learned to dress so well because every single thread was nit-picked by their terror of a mother, and then that critical voice started to manifest inside of them, too. That’s too bland, that’s too trampy, you look like a sack, what’s wrong with your skin? Your hair? Your nose and teeth and shoulders and stomach? They tried so hard to keep being perfect anyway. They tried so hard they began to crack from the inside out. At the dinner table fourteen-year-old Julian would stare at their fork and think about all the places they wanted to jam it into their skin just to see what would happen. They never followed through on any of those impulses, not when their mother still followed them into dressing rooms and barged in on them showering to spout her spite. Any mark she could find was just another possible danger. No, the fantasy was less about pain (they already received so much of that) than about ceasing to exist as a physical entity. Being a perfect son, a fine young man, whatever everyone called them—it was all so exhausting. How did anyone do this?

Only two years later, they were clumsily picking the liquor cabinet lock and taking from it little by little. Never enough to get caught, but enough to get drunk. At first. Then they needed more, and more, and more and more, to drown out that horrid little voice in their head telling them everything was wrong. They’d wake up hungover as all hell and get trotted off to some rich man’s garden party, but somehow they always made it through with a smile and a thousand handshakes and no one the wiser. Or maybe, simply, no one cared enough to see.

In college they were supposed to be free, and sometimes they even felt like it. They had the chance to grow into their own identity for once in their life, and it constituted something of a radical shift. They found their pronouns and their people, bedmates and peers, hobbies besides networking and drinking. They still drank, of course, and it was celebrated as a fantastic party trick. Nobody notices the warning signs when they’re all also shitfaced! Julian tried so many drinks and drugs they thought they could rule the whole fucking world.

Then they ended up at home one winter break, locked up in the bathroom for making some unforgivable mistake. They’d been accused of so many over that they couldn’t be bothered to remember the details at this point. It always came back to them being a liar or a whore or something along those lines. If only she knew what a goddamn degenerate I really am, they’d thought, not bothering to wipe away the tears on their face. The eyes that stared back from the mirror looked lifeless. They would never be good enough. Why did they even keep trying? It would be so much easier to pick up that razor under the sink and just-

Oh. Their heart skipped a beat. That had scared them more than their own mother.

The next few years were a drunken, hazy blur, one big attempt to bury that frightening moment so deep in their soul that it never surfaced again. They graduated from college and business school while self-medicating with whatever anyone would sell them and got the hell out of the house as soon as they figured out how to leech from the family assets without being tracked down. All that training in smiling and smooth-talking helped them bounce from place to place without losing too many connections or giving up on their rather lavish lifestyle. Sometimes screwing preppy country club rats even made them feel good about themself, for an hour or so. Then it was right back to the oxy and rum. Did all that pretending to be pretty and charming and harmless do anything to help the spiraling emptiness in the pit of their being? No, but it was an effective enough distraction most of the time, and when even that failed they took up the kinds of hobbies rich people without much to lose could enjoy. They took cooking classes and learned how to screw around under the hoods of cars and found skill after skill to learn as if any of them made them feel alive.

They only went home once after that, when they got word that their father had up and left without a day’s hesitation. Stepping back into that gargantuan house was like walking right into a cage on their own free will, but something they hated inside of them drove them forward anyway. Maybe it was a desire to finally please their mother, just once. They didn’t accomplish it, since she spent the entire visit acting as if she was the victim of the whole universe’s cruelty. So he found out about the affair, she said. So I told him you’re not his. What did I ever do wrong?

That was a new and intriguing consideration. Though it pained them to spend a second more with her, they managed to wrangle out the name they needed to track down their real sire, only to discover a set of siblings to boot. Cruel trick, God, if you’re even there. You know I always wanted someone to play with.Anticipation lodged itself in every bone in their body as they planned out a trip to Dertosa to track down anyone who was willing to test the waters with them. Ben and Cecilia were such a surprise. They couldn’t fathom what they did to piss Nightshade off—usually they had to flirt with a girl before she went all icy on them—but the feeling was mutual, and that was fine. It wasn’t like they didn’t know how to smile oh-so-sweetly at a woman they despised. Ben was a different story. For the first time it was as if someone saw right through all the charm, right down to the weight dragging Julian down all their life. Ben got it. The word family finally felt like something.

After that, finding a fancy loft in Dertosa and joining up with the Poisons was a no-brainer. Julian had never had a clear idea of what to do with themself anyway, and it was like they had been sculpted and groomed just for this job. The job made them better, actually. That and being around Anthrax. Narcissus still binged on anything that sounded good in the moment and flirted their way into and out of every situation imaginable, but that voice in their head grew less powerful. They were good at this. They were doing something worthwhile and doing it well. If only they could rub that in their mother’s face now.

Almost five years strong, and then it all went to hell. Narcissus woke up in a cold sweat, tangled in their bedsheets as chaos raged around them, to the news of Anthrax’s murder. The voice surged back, drowning out everything else with one spiteful, sorrowful cry: it should have been you instead. It should have been me instead.

The past six months have been nothing short of rough. If there’s one thing Narcissus is sure about, though, it’s that Nightshade can and should pick up where their brother left off. They don’t want to lose the first real family they’ve ever had, or the first real sense of growth they’ve felt in pretty much their whole life. Besides, anyone who thinks they can run Toxic City’s resident keepers out of town with a couple petty scare tactics has clearly never met the Poisons before.

THE FACTS.

Narcissus is sticking by their sister and continuing their work as the Poisons’ marketing-and-sales brain. They’ve always got something to prove to someone. Gregarious and incorrigible, they’re good at making connections and digging up gossip, even if they sometimes cause a little gossiping with their behavior. They have a penchant for edible vices and a reputation for a long bedmate waitlist, though the former is a lot more serious than they make it sound and the latter is somewhat overblown by rumors. They’re covering up some serious issues that they should probably talk to someone about, but only Anthrax ever really knew what kind of darkness lurks behind that sly grin. Things were improving before his murder, but now Narcissus can feel themself slipping back into dangerous habits and they’re clawing desperately at any good thing they can hold onto. Maybe that’s the source of the sudden change in their attitude toward their sister—they may not admit it for fear of losing a few teeth, but they know the signs of someone sliding into a bad place. If they can’t help themself, why not help others?

THE MUN.

☾ Divya | PST | She/Her

#bob morley fc #narcissus #poisons #nb

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theopennotebook · 6 years

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Skins FanFic

Chapter 2: Let’s get this party started

I thought Friday would never come. I had spent every day this week hanging out with Freddie and Cook and their friends. They were all really nice, some were a bit rough around the edges, but on a whole, they were all quite nice. Katie and I even went shopping together yesterday.

Tonight my cousin Maxxie was coming for the weekend. I could barely contain my excitement. Whenever Maxxie and I got together it usually ended with us lying in the grass somewhere drunk off our asses and exploding with laughter. Maxxie was the one who taught me how to hold my liquor and how to fake being sober enough to trick my parents. Some would call her a bad influence, I say she was full of valuable life lessons. True to form, she was coming early this evening to help me get ready for tonight. All the parties and clubs I had ever been to back home were pretty preppy. My new friends seemed like badasses…, which was why Maxxie was the perfect person to help me get ready. At 7:45 my doorbell rang and I flew down the stairs from my loft bedroom to answer it.

Maxxie stood on my doorstep wearing black combat boots, black patent leather tights and a gold, knit sweater with a black cat on the front. Her black square glasses sat on the bridge of her nose. Her messy bun was held up by two orange chopsticks. I could never tell if she was a fashion genius, or just always got ready in the dark.

“Maxxie! I missed you!” I said throwing my arms around her neck.

“Hey, latecomer! Time to turn you into a Brit!” She said hugging me back.

“Hi, Auntie!” She called as we ran up the stairs and into my room. I made sure to lock the door behind us.

“What treasures have you brought for tonight, my dear cousin?”

“Gross. Who talks like that?” She teased, playfully tossing a scarf at me. “Well for starters, I brought you an outfit because… well, your style doesn’t exactly fit in here. Also, I brought Whiskey and skittles.”

“Skittles? In case we need a sugar rush?”

“Wow. I forgot how sheltered you are. Skittles as in the best high you will ever have in your life. I’ll explain later.”

“Like drugs? ...Maxxie, I don’t know…”

“Don’t be such a knob Zye. Let’s get you ready, get some shots into you and see how you feel after that. How are we getting to this shindig anyway?”

“I think we’re walking, I didn’t exactly tell mom where we’re going tonight.”

Maxxie rolled her eyes at me. She rummaged through her bag, pulled out her cellphone and began to text vigorously.

“Who are you texting?”

“Jack and Finn. They don’t live far from here, and they’re always down to party.”

“You mean those twins you were telling me about? The really attractive ones?”

“Mhm. Finn says that they’ll be here around 12. C’mon lets go straighten your hair.”

“Why?”

“So I can tease the fuck out of it.”

“Well, that sounds counterproductive.” I scoffed.

“How do you even have friends?”

“Ha. Ha. Ha. You’re hilarious.”

“No seriously, like sometimes I question if we’re even really related.”

I playfully shoved my cousin onto my bed.

“C’mon Maxxie, turn me into a sex god,” I said, posing dramatically.

“That’s my speciality.”

Three hours later and I was deemed ready. I looked at myself in the mirror and couldn’t believe it. My now straight hair had been teased so that it flowed around my face and cascaded down to my waist. Maxxie had lined my eyes with black liner on the top and green on the bottom. She said it would make them pop. Boy did it ever. It looked like someone had taken out my green eyes and replaced them with emeralds! I let my eyes trail down over the sleeveless, skintight, black dress that barely covered my bum and down the thigh-high gladiator heels. I shook the many studded silver bracelets that Maxxie had pushed onto my arm.

“Maxxie… I look… I look…”

“Perfect.” She said stepping beside me. I looked at her outfit in the mirror. She wore high-waisted black pants with a silver crop top and combat boots.

“What is it with everyone here and combat boots?”

“They’re hot,” Maxxie said walking back over to her bag and pulling out the bottle of whiskey. “Ready for some shots? Jack and Finn will be here soon”

“I’m still not sure how we’re going to get out Maxxie.”

“Doesn’t Auntie go to bed at like 10:00 every night?”

“So we’re just going to sneak out?”

“Pretty much.”

“I’m going to need shots.”

“How many?”

“As many as it takes for this to start to sound like a good idea.”

Maxxie winked at me and cracked open the bottle.

3 shots later and I was feeling a nice buzz. I looked in the mirror again. Maxxie was right, I did look perfect. I felt a lot more comfortable with my outfit, even so far as to whine and shimmy in the mirror.

“Alright then Cinderella, the boys are here, they parked down the street. Does that mesh come out of your window?”

“I don’t know… I haven’t tried it yet.”

“Well, we’re about to find out.”

Maxxie rummaged through her bag and then came over and shoved what looked like a bag full of skittles into my cleavage.

“What are you doing?!”

“Think of it as a temporary push up bra. Besides, mine are too small to conceal it.” She said opening my window.

The mesh slid off rather easily and Maxxie indicated for me to go first. I peered over the windowsill, it was quite the drop if I fell… High enough to break bones for sure… maybe my neck… I could feel my hands begin to shake.

“Strap on a pair and get out there Zye.”

I took a deep breath and swung one leg, then the other out of the window and onto the trellis. Slowly and steadily I began to make my way down. The chilly night breeze rustled my hair and raised goosebumps on my arms. Finally, my feet were on the grass of my front yard. I looked up at the trellis, and then at my window. Maxxie was already halfway down, the mesh had been replaced on my window and the window remained ajar. At least I knew how we were getting back in. Maxxie joined me on solid ground, fluffed up my hair and then she and I headed towards an SUV at the end of my street.

“Crank up the confidence cousin. Pop your tits out a bit, yeah like that. We’re going to show these new friends of yours just how hot you really are.”

-------

A dark-haired boy with sunglasses on stepped out of the passenger seat of the SUV when we were a few steps away. He opened the back door for us. I was about to get in when he pinned Maxxie against the side of the car and proceeded to suck face with her. I struggled to hide my level of disgust; even though he was gorgeous, the impromptu facial assault was still a bit alarming. The driver’s side door opened and out stepped an identical copy of the first boy. He smiled at me and I felt my cheeks grow warm.

“Hi, I’m Jack, that’s my brother Finn. You must be Zye.”

“N-n-nice to meet you.” I managed to stammer out. Smooth Zye, real smooth.

He chuckled. “ Hop in the front, we’ll leave them to it in the back.”

I nodded and made my way into the SUV. Jack managed to get Finn and Maxxie to stop making out long enough to get them into the backseat before climbing in the front seat himself. In no more time than it took Jack to start the car, Maxxie was already back on top of Finn. Jack pulled off the curb and we were on our way.

“Don’t mind them, my brother isn’t usually like this. He popped an orange and a red skittle before we got here. He always gets nervous around your cousin.”

“Skittles did that to him?”

“Did Maxxie not explain skittles to you?”

I shook my head.

“Alright, well, Skittles are a synthetic compound. You get a different trip from each colour, and if you mix colours you’re going to have a fucked up night. Red is passionate lust; orange helps you let loose; yellow makes you euphoric; green makes you a little bit crazy, but in a good way; blue is called the superman effect, pretty much you just feel invincible; purple makes you feel like everyone’s object of desire.”

“That actually sounds like fun to me.”

“It’s always fun watching someone have their first trip. You’re probably going to freak out a bit at first, but then you’ll get used to it. And besides, you can always come and find me, I’ll take good care of you.” He said cheekily. I laughed, feeling more comfortable around him. He winked before turning into the parking lot of a dark, loud building.

“Alright, lovebirds we’re here!” Jack said banging on the roof.

The line to get in snaked down to the end of the block.

“You said you got us a hook up to get in right?” Maxxie asked.

“Ya, Thomas is working the door tonight so we shouldn’t have any problems.” Thomas was part of Freddie and Cook’s crew, I’d learned that he always had great connections for a good time.

We pushed past the line of people waiting, strutting like royalty. I saw Thomas standing at the door reading over a checklist.

“Thomas!” I called making my way up to him and waving.

“Ah, Zye you are finally here! Let’s get you inside before you freeze in those clothes! Are these your friends?”

“Yeah, this is my cousin Maxxie and our friends Jack and Finn.”

“Any friend of yours is a friend of ours. Have fun tonight!”

“Thanks, Thomas!” I said kissing him on the cheek. Maxxie was right, the easiest way for me to let loose was to get some shots into me.

“Did you bring anything special?” He leaned over and whispered in my ear.

I smiled and patted my chest. Thomas laughed before unclipping the chain and letting us in.

We ran up the stairs and into the packed club. It was hazy and humid, with multicoloured lights flashing in every direction. They were blaring dubstep and people were flailing their bodies around erratically in ways I had never even seen before. I spotted Cook up by the booth doing shots with the DJ. He spotted me right away. I smiled and waved at him. He whispered something in the DJ’s ear, which caused him to laugh.

“Oi! I have a shoutout for Zye from Cook. He says you’re lookin’ fit tonight and he can’t to see what those Canadian hips can do!” The DJ announced over the music.

I threw my head back as I laughed. I felt something slide around my waist only to realize that it was Jack’s arm. He smiled at me and I smiled back, still curious about his almost reflexive behaviour.

“Wizzer! You made it!” I saw Pandora come bounding towards me from out of the crowd. “Come help us out! We’re tryin’ to cheer up Freddie, Effie broke up with him again this morning.” Pandora grabbed my hand and led us through the crowd of people to a booth at the back of the club. I could faintly make out everyone’s faces. Freddie sat at the edge of the booth looking rather grim. I plopped down beside him.

“Hey Freddie, I have something that will make everything better!” I reached into my cleavage and pulled out the baggie of skittles. Everyone lit up as I dropped the bag on the table.

“By the way, this is my cousin Maxxie and her friends Jack and Finn,” I said as they sat down beside me.

“We know Jack and Finn, Zye. We all go way back,” Freddie said as he and Jack did the bro handshake.

We passed around the Ziploc baggie full of skittles and everyone pulled out their cellphones to use the light to be able to see the colours. Everyone popped either one or two.

“Are you going to have some?” Freddie asked me cheekily, popping a yellow one.

“I’m not sure…” I said hesitantly.

“Come on Zye, I’ll even pick for you,” Maxxie said taking the bag from Freddie. She placed a blue and an orange pill in the palm of my hand.

“Are you sure I can handle two? I’ve never even had one.”

“Zye, don’t worry, I’ll take care of you,” Jack said from beside me. “ We can even take them at the same time.” He said taking a red and an orange pill from the bag.

I nodded nervously. Jack instructed me to put them under my tongue and let them dissolve rather than swallowing, the high would kick in faster that way. Again I nodded placing both pills beneath my tongue.

Maxxie beamed at me from the end of the booth. “Finally getting on my level, eh Zye?”

I laughed, being careful to keep the pills secured beneath my tongue. I was so nervous, not knowing what to expect. Within seconds the pills had completely dissolved.

“How will I know that they’re working?”

“At first you’ll feel a little buzz in the back of your head, sort of like a sugar rush. And then trust me, you’ll know.” Freddie said with a smile.

“It’s good to see you smile Freds,” I said, allowing my leg to brush against his.

“Do you want to get a drink?” He asked me, resting his hand on my knee.

“Yeah, sure,” I said smiling.

“Hurry back,” Jack said with a wink as Freddie and I stood.

“I’ll be back, don’t worry,” I said with a laugh.

Once we got past everyone, Freddie took my hand and led me to the bar.

“Two Irish car bombs!” He yelled to the bartender over the noise of the club.

“Hey, Freddie?”

“Yeah?” He said smiling wider at me.

“Do you feel it yet?”

“I’m starting to. Are you feeling it yet?”

“I feel a bit of a buzz in the back of my head…”

“Just wait Zye, this is going to be the best night of your life!” He said placing a hand on the small of my back.

Our drinks came and we chugged them without reserve. As I clunked my glass onto the counter I felt heightened. The music seemed to be coming from inside of me, the lights seemed to be calling me as they flashed in heightened neon tones.

“Hey, Freddie?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I’m feeling it!”

“Oh yeah?”

“Let’s get fucked up tonight!”

“Oh yeah, you’re definitely feeling it.”

“Freddie! I want to dance!”

Freddie leaned over closer to me, lowering his hand to my hip and nuzzling the side of my neck.

“Do you want to dance with me?”

“Definitely,” I said placing my hand on the nape of his neck. All I could think about was how great it would feel to kiss him right then and there. Maybe it was the drugs. He stood up again, looking down at me with those brown, playful eyes. No, it was definitely just that I thought he was a beautiful man.

I felt someone tap me on the shoulder and turned to see Cook grinning at me.

“Well Princess, I think you owe me a dance.”

“I was actually just about to dance with Freddie.”

“Aw old Freddie won’t mind, will you Freds? Besides, he’ll come find you when the time is right, won’t you Freddie?”

Freddie gave my hip a squeeze. “ Don’t worry, we’ll have our dance, go dance with Cook. He’ll do you good.” Freddie winked and then headed back to our booth.

Cook bowed and extended his hand towards me. I laughed, I couldn’t picture him being anything other than an ass, but now he was as playful as a child. I took his hand and he led me to the dance floor.

The drugs had definitely kicked in now. Everything seemed to be moving faster than before. The bass now felt like it was resonating from somewhere deep inside my soul. I could feel myself making fluid, calculated movements with my arms and hips. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was doing but Cook seemed to like it. With a Cheshire cat grin on his face, He bounced around in perfect time to the music, a bottle of beer in one of his hands, still holding my hand with the other. I threw my head back and couldn’t contain my laughter. Why hadn’t I done this before? I felt like I was on top of the world. Like nothing could touch me. Like no one could hurt me. Like I was invincible.

“Are you havin’ a good time?”

“Best fuckin’ night of my life!”

“That’s what I like to hear!” Cook pulled me closer to him. I felt like I could feel the rhythm of his heartbeat manipulating the air around us. I placed my hand on his chest. I could feel it, his racing heart. I leaned my head on his collarbone and laughed. I felt two hands on my hips and turned to see whom they belonged to.

“Jack!” I said with a big smile, taking one of his hands in mine.

“Oi, fuck off, can’t you see we’re dancin’?” Cook barked at him, over my shoulder.

“Yeah well, now it’s my turn.” Jack shot back.

The tension between the two of them was palpable. Whatever this was it went way deeper than dancing with me.

“Cook, it’s okay. I’ll come find you when the time is right.” I said winking at him.

“If this fucker gives you any trouble, you come and tell me, yeah?” Cook said, taking my face in his hands.

I nodded and then kissed Cook on the cheek. I guess, in his own way, he was kind of sweet.

Jack led me back to the booth. Everyone except Naomi and Emily had dispersed.

“Are you feeling it yet?” He asked, pulling me into the booth.

“Oh yeah.”

“How does it feel?”

“Amazing!”

Jack laughed at my enthusiasm.

“I find you quite attractive Zye.”

I laughed. “Awfully forward of you isn’t it Jack?”

“I have a feeling that you also find me attractive.”

“Again, awfully forward aren’t you Jack?”

He laughed. “So does that mean I’m wrong?” He took one of my hands and brushed his lips against my wrist.

“Well, I never said that,” I said brushing my leg against his.

“I want to get to know you.” He said brushing away a stray piece of my dark brown hair.

I smiled and felt my cheeks grow warm again. I slid closer to Jack in the booth. As uninhibited as I felt, I still didn’t kiss him. I felt more inclined to tease his a bit first, I wanted to make him beg. So instead, I crossed my legs and put them on his lap. He stroked the outer part of my thigh with his thumb as we talked. We sat there in the booth, just talking. I was so content I felt like I could just stay there forever. I was comfortable around Jack… he made me feel safe.

“I believe it’s time for my dance.” I heard Freddie’s voice from just behind me.

I turned to him and smiled. Then turned back to Jack. “Jack, do you mind?”

“Not at all, just make sure to return her to me, got it Freds?”

“Yeah, Jack.” He said laughing.

I left the booth with Freddie and he took me to the very centre of the dance floor. Freddie and I began to allow our bodies to match the erratic bass of the song, flailing this way and that, laughing all the while. Suddenly the tempo changed. Freddie and I stopped. The song climax began to blare over the speakers. Freddie and I locked eyes as he made his way closer and closer to me until our bodies were pressed tightly together. I began to undulate my torso and pelvis, Freddie’s body moving completely in sync with mine. He placed his hands on the small of my back, gripping fistfuls of my dress in his hands. I allowed one of my hands to fall on the nape of his neck and I went deeper into my movements. Freddie’s breaths grew deeper. He allowed his forehead to fall and rest on mine. He stared into my eyes and I felt as if he was looking deep into me. I felt completely exposed. I shivered and then smiled. Freddie smiled back. I saw his lips form the words “Can I kiss you?” and I nodded, tingling with anticipation. I let my eyes close, expecting to feel his lips against mine, but instead, I felt him pull away. I opened my eyes to see him looking towards the entrance of the club. I turned to see Effie’s tear-streaked face through the crowd. Freddie left me in an instant and I watched as he ran over to her and lifted her up off of the ground in a spinning kiss. I guessed that they were one of those couples that often “broke up” but were never really broken up.

I quickly scanned the crowd looking for a familiar face, but couldn’t find a single one. I pushed past Effie and Freddie to the exit, running down the stairs and out into the cold night air.

#skins uk #skins #fanfic #skinsfanfic #skins fan #chapter2 #short story #weekly upload #writer #the plot thickens #character development #zyeleika #zye #jacksgap #jack and finn #sex drugs and rock and roll #skittles #comment and share #until next time

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proxylynn · 6 years

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Dreemurr Academy #12 (Undertale Gaster)

Dreemurr Academy, a prestigious closed-off college for monsters and humans alike of all ages and worlds.

This includes myself, though I'm sort of an in-between.

I'm Lynsie, the human anomaly. I'm a human, but I can do magic like monsters. I'm an oddball.

That's the thing about making a school that is open to multiple alternate dimensions. Weird things are bound to show up. Even a bunch of the same person. From what I saw on orientation day, the same faces are scattered around all around.

To fix these type of issues, everyone that has a multiple or doppelganger is given a school name so there's no confusion.

Other than that, it's fairly normal. The hierarchy is the simple.

The Deans are made up of the same people, skeleton monsters that go by the name of Gaster. One is a teacher of the Sciences, goes by Wingding. He's a kind and understanding man but is known to pull a prank or two. They all speak in a typeface sign language but use telepathy magic so others understand. It's been said no one has ever heard their real voices and those that have are no longer at the academy.

Another Gaster dean teaches Home Economics, he goes by Wingy. He's a bubbly sweet guy that loves his work. Nothing makes him smile more than seeing the joy on a student's face when they take pride in being able to do something they first thought they couldn't.

Another Gaster dean teaches the studies of Magic, he is called Fall. At times, he can be cynical, malicious, and sarcastic. He has a commanding presence that exuded gravitas, authority, and control, able to keep a class quiet without effort. Yet there is a kindness to him, it's rarely seen, but not unheard of.

Another Gaster dean teaches History, his nickname is Dings. A cold, bitter, and sometimes childish man. He tends to hold grudges against troublesome students and is extremely spiteful toward those whom he dislikes. Yet those that can take his punishments are rewarded with his respect. He is a teacher that commands respect and whose grades are earned with doom hanging over your head.

The Professors are also skeleton monsters, but not all are the same person. The Psychology professor is a guy named Papyrus but goes by Stretch. He's the favorite among students because he's so laid back. He chews a toothpick in class to suppress his urge to smoke, but we all know he does so when on break. He's really good at reading students and helps out when able. All in all, he's the cool teacher.

The Literature professor is a Papyrus that is called Fell. He is the one teacher everyone dreads. Very strict and old-fashioned. He does not tolerate interruptions and will humiliate those he feels need to be taken down a notch. Such things take their toll on him and often squeezes a stress ball that he keeps on his desk. But he is a very passionate man when it comes to his work and takes his subject seriously, even though this makes him into a bit of a grammar nazi which is why many students get low grades.

The Biology professor is a skeleton called Sans that sometimes goes by Classic, whatever that means. He is very cheesy and comes off as lazy, making puns that have people cringe yet secretly love them. He is very protective of his students and will go out of his way to help them. He does not tolerate bullying of any kind and can be quite scary. He's the second favorite among the students.

The Physical Education professor is also a Sans that goes by Pain. He is also a stern and old school type of teacher, only he tends to be crueler in the humiliation of students that are unprepared. While his scope is all around, he prefers the darker side of the study. Using borderline violence to weed out the weak that think taking his class is an easy A. There is mercy in his dojo, but it must be earned with blood, sweat, and tears.

The Students are broken into four groups based on which part of the four years they are currently in. The first years are called freshmen. Second years are sophomores. Third years are juniors. And fourth years are seniors. There are some variations on this topic, but this hierarchy of college students is still readily recognizable by everyone.

Me? This isn't my first rodeo but not my last. I'm a sophomore and have gotten the gist of who's who and what's what. I get along with students and teachers. I've always been a middle ground type of girl.

I didn't come looking for friends, but they just seemed to find me. Funny enough, my buddies are the brothers of the professors. Stretch's brother is a freshman, his name is Sans but goes by Rascal. Fell's brother, also a Sans, is a sophomore like me and goes by Edgy. Classic's brother is a Papyrus, a freshman that goes by Papy. And Pain's brother is a sophomore Papyrus by the name of Slim.

I've always been a tomboy. I prefer the company of guys. They're different and fun, even if they can be a bit odd sometimes.

Rascal, as the nickname implies, is the school clown/prankster. He likes to test his limits and challenge authority, even dishevels his uniform to assert his individuality. He comes off as a slacker but secretly is very deep, clever, and loyal to a fault. He likes taking his brother's class so he can improve his skills with messing with people, mostly his brother as he disrupts his teachings when he sees a chance.

Edgy is shy around new people and slow to open up, enjoying a laugh with friends when able. Though he appears weak or even nerdy because of his glasses, he is far tougher than he leads on. He doesn't take crap from anyone. When alone, he's angsty and borders on straight up angry. Getting a pissy attitude when annoyed. Like his brother, he is very passionate about literature and does his best to impress his brother, going so far as to become the teacher's pet.

Papy is easily the most lovable guy in the whole school. Very cheerful and optimistic, he tries his best no matter what. He doesn't like conflict and tries to keep his brother out of trouble when the teacher pulls a prank. I find it sweet of him to take his brother's class even though he doesn't particularly enjoy it, just so he can stay close to him. Like I said, this guy is a lovable soul.

Slim is easy going. He doesn't take things too seriously and never breaks a sweat over hard exams. The only thing that breaks his cool is his smoking, he really gets tense if he goes too long without his fix. He's incredibly smart and instinctual, good traits to have when dealing with his brother. While he does attend his brother's class, he merely does so as a request of his brother who likes to make sure he doesn't slack off due to not being challenged enough.

All of them are oddly related to each other in some form. Gaster's, Papyrus's, and Sans's are brothers. Yet I see them all as different people. I value them. They're helping me even if they don't know it. I am not so confident in myself. I tend to isolate myself, go at things lone wolf style. It's how I've always been. Then I met them and slowly my world began to expand bit by bit. I'm still not comfortable with others. But with them, I can step out from behind my mask for a bit, and really be myself around them.

Today, however, is not a typical day. Normally my time at the academy is focused on learning, a common thing done at schools. I pay attention to the professors, make sure my grades never falter, and still manage to work in some free time to spend with my buddies or chill on my own. You know, normal things and such. But lately, I can't keep focus. Why? Those god damn preppies have made it their mission to get me kicked out!

Schools have many reasons that they expel students, from cheating to bullying to altercations with other students or teachers. They may expel students for lying, theft, or engaging in prohibited online behaviors. Students can even be expelled for actions as simple as leaving school grounds without permission or tampering with school property. In short, you name the rule, and there's probably a school from which a kid can get expelled for violating it. After all, schools are communities, and like communities everywhere, they have codes of conduct that they expect their members to abide by.

Rarely are students who are expelled for fundamentally non-threatening but prohibited behaviors, like cheating, first-time offenders. Like other kinds of transgressions, students typically begin cheating on a small scale, such as copying a classmate's answer on a homework assignment. When caught, teachers or administrators may initially respond with counseling, which they can then escalate to detentions or suspensions if the behavior persists. That said, schools that have zero tolerance policies always have the option of expulsion if a child breaks their rules.

Until the late 1990s, the term "zero tolerance" was rarely heard in an academic setting. Now, many students hear it from the time they begin kindergarten, and unfortunately, this is sometimes because they've faced this sanction at some point in their academic career. If the school adheres to a zero-tolerance policy, you should never take it lightly. In private schools today, we have zero tolerance because it seems we need zero tolerance. Our experience at Manhattan Private School Advisors is those unacceptable students, and even teachers, behaviors are widespread. Social media and the Internet have made bullying and other forms of abuse commonplace. Academic cheating and disrespectful behaviors toward others seem to be soaring, and that's only among the kids. What about the fourth-grade teacher who peppers her Facebook page with complaints about the spoiled students and demanding parents she deals with?

These types of behaviors create a culture in which students and adults alike become inured to seeing their peers skirt or flout codes of conduct. And for students who are caught breaking a school's rules, the consequences can be harsh: The most severe punishment for a zero-tolerance policy is expulsion. At times, this sanction may seem unfair, a result of a student being in the wrong place at the wrong time or just being "that unlucky one." Is it fair? Sometimes it certainly is, and sometimes it's not. Can thirty students cheat on the same test and only one get caught and end up expelled? Absolutely. This is, however, the reality of zero tolerance.

With Dreemurr Academy being a prestigious closed-off college for monsters and humans, zero-tolerance is a big deal. Monsters and Humans from different worlds, timelines, or realities make for stricter rules of conduct as what is acceptable in your dimension may not be same when on school grounds. It's a strong request from all sides, but understandable for the greater good of higher learning. The only issue with this comes from those that think they are more deserving of treatment because they feel entitled. These people are the preppies.

A preppy refers to a subculture associated with the old private Northeastern university-preparatory schools. The term is used to denote a person seen as characteristic of a student or alumnus of these schools. Prep has become a colloquialism in the United States and has largely replaced preppy in modern usage. Characteristics of preps in the past, include a particular subcultural speech, vocabulary, dress, mannerisms, etiquette, reflective of an upper-class upbringing. The term preppy derives from the private, university-preparatory or prep schools that some American upper class and upper-middle-class children attend. The term preppy is commonly associated with the Ivy League and oldest universities in the Northeast and the prep schools which fed students to them since traditionally a primary goal in attending a prep school was admittance into one of these institutions. Preppy fashion derives from the fashions of these old Northeastern colleges in the early to mid-twentieth century. Lisa Birnbach's 1980 book Official Preppy Handbook, which was written to poke fun at the rich lives of privileged Ivy League and socially elite liberal arts college students but ended up glamorizing the culture, portrays the preppy social group as well-educated, well-connected, and although exclusive, courteous to other social groups without fostering serious relationships with them. Being well-educated and well-connected is associated with an upper-class socioeconomic status that emphasizes higher education and high-income professional success.

There are three groups of preppy students at the academy. There are the preppies that accept everyone, these are the people you want as friends and they don't think of themselves as better than you. It's made up of middle to upper-middle-class monsters and humans. They've lived lives that showed them how things are different between the social classes. As long as you aren't a douche, they will like you.

The second preppy group is made up of only monsters. They like the high-standards of being a prep type student and uphold a dignified code. They are like those students you look up to. They try to keep the peace against their darker twin. The third preppy group is the enemy of everyone at the academy. It's made up of rich snobby humans that, even though they attend a monster created school that is run by monsters, believe only humans should attend and get the best the school has to offer. They look down on all, both students and teachers. But those they really hate are humans that dare see monsters as equals. This is where they target me.

I don't often speak my mind on the issue, but once I give voice, I make it very clear that I am pro-monster to the point I go anti-human. That and I may or may not end up having to kick several of their asses when they start something. If they pick on someone because of what species they are, I am there. If they try to steal money from a monster simply because they claim they'll "put it to better use", I am there. If they jump me into an ally and try to kick my ass, well duh, I'm there obviously...and winning.

Though now they've taken this personal feud to new levels by trying to have me kick off campus. I'm guessing they're starting to see me as a threat. The longer I stay, the harder it is for them to do as they please. So how do you get rid of a threat? You take it away. How? With expulsion. What is the difference between suspension and expulsion? The main difference between suspension and expulsion is the amount of time a student must stay out of school. A suspension can only last for up to ten days. An expulsion can last up to one year.

A year out of the academy will not only damage my grades but will free them to establish more hold on the school. If I miss that much time, there will be no way I can make up enough credits to finish. My scholarship will die. I will have lost out on the best education imaginable all because of some assholes? Heh...What do these fools take me for? They are so painfully obvious that it almost hurts to ruin things for them...Wow, I can hardly think that and keep a straight face. There's no way I'd be expelled. Because unlike these preppy fuck nuggets, I don't pay someone to do the research for me, I actually know the rules.

Who decides to expel a student? Usually, the Board of Education will hold a hearing so a decision can be made about whether or not to expel a student. At the hearing, a person or group of people will listen to what happened and make the decision to expel based on reports from the school, the student, and witnesses who saw what happened. The person or people making the decision at the hearing will usually be a neutral hearing officer such as someone from the community who doesn't work for the school district, or a neutral hearing board of three or more members of the Board of Education.

The Board of Education of Dreemurr Academy is made up of all the Dean Gasters and of course the Dreemurr family who founded the school. The Deans hold the majority of the power, what with them being at the academy constantly as opposed to the Dreemurrs. But the Dreemurrs are allowed to weigh in on the situation if they or the Deans deem it of significance. Examples would be if there were a threat to students or faculty, the facility itself, or the emotional well being of students or faculty that may cause repercussions that would be harmful to any person, place, or thing.

When can the Board of Education expel a student? A student must face immediate expulsion if he or she has a gun or other deadly weapon on school grounds or at a school activity, uses a firearm or other deadly weapon to commit a crime on or off school grounds, or sells (or tries to sell) illegal drugs on or off school grounds. A student may also be expelled if he or she breaks a school rule on school grounds or at a school activity, is disruptive or puts other people or things in danger on school grounds or at a school activity, or breaks a school rule off school grounds in a way that disrupts or prevents other students from learning.

If the Board of Education deems the case of expulsion to be legitimate then proper proceedings can begin and a school attended hearing date is set to allow those involved to make their case. The hearing must be held within 11 school days after he or she has been taken out of school. The only time a hearing can be skipped is if there is an emergency (for example, if the school believes a child is dangerous to himself or others if he stays in the classroom). The accused student has the right to get a written notice from the school before an expulsion hearing. The notice must explain which rule the school believes was broken and what the student did to break the rule. The notice must also tell you the date, time, and location of the hearing as well as how you can get an attorney to represent the student. If you don't have an attorney, you can bring someone else as an advocate.

You have the right to explain your side of the story at the hearing. You can bring witnesses with you and show evidence, such as documents that support your case. You have the right to question the witnesses that the school has invited to the hearing. You have the right to get copies of the documents that the school will be showing at the hearing. You can also get copies of written statements by teachers and witnesses. Make sure to ask for a copy of the student's entire school record, as there may be information in it that can help you. Asking to see your school record is helpful. As reading the record will help you understand what the school believes has happened. It should have information about the incident, including names of witnesses that the school might ask to testify at the hearing, and documents that the school may use as evidence.

What will happen at the hearing? While an expulsion hearing is not as formal as a court trial, it is a legal proceeding and it may be the only chance you get to tell your story. There is no right to appeal the hearing officer's decision in court if you are not happy with the outcome. The hearing will be recorded or someone will write down everything that is said like a courtroom stenographer. The hearing officer will listen while each party tells its side of the story and will then decide whether or not the student broke the rules, whether or not the student should be expelled, and how long the expulsion will last.

The school officials must show enough evidence to prove that expelling the student is reasonable. The school will go first in presenting its case against the student. It will need to prove that the student broke the rules by having a witness tell the facts to the hearing officer. The witness must be someone who actually saw what happened. For example, the principal or dean cannot tell the hearing officer, "I didn't see what happened, but the teacher told me so-so did it". A school official will ask questions of the school's witnesses. In addition to having witnesses say what they saw and heard, the school can show documents that support its position, including evidence about the accused student's past discipline problems.

If the school doesn't have a witness who was actually there when the incident took place, or if the school tries to prove its case using only written documents, be sure to point this out to the hearing officer. The student, his or her parents, or their representative may ask questions of (or cross-examine) the witnesses after the school official is finished questioning them. The purpose of cross-examination is to bring out additional information that might be helpful to the student's case. It will not help the student's case if you argue with a witness, even if you think he or she is not telling the truth. It is better for you and your own witnesses to explain what happened when it is your turn to speak.

Once each witness has spoken and any written evidence has been given to the hearing officer, each side may have a chance to make a final statement. This is your chance to briefly explain what you think happened and what you think should happen to you. Finish by asking the hearing officer not to expel you or to expel you for only a very short time if found guilty. To make the best possible presentation to the board, you will need to be prepared, organized, and polite. Angry words or behavior directed at the school officials or the board will only add additional stress to the situation and can even hurt your case.

Now with that little knowledge dump out of the way, what makes me so confident that I don't have to worry about any of this coming to pass? Easy really...I'm good friends with the faculty and their family. It's an unpleasant day in heaven if these fools can bring a charge against me that anyone in the academy would actually believe I would do. I'd have to have had amnesia to pull some of the crap they've tried to pin on me. From tagging lockers to keying faculty cars and even tampering with the science lab equipment. You name it, they've done it and tried to claim I did it. Which is why I sit in the Headmaster's office today instead of my bed where I should be at this hour. I am being accused of yet another bullshit wrong that I had no means of doing.

"And so you can clearly see, Headmaster...This...This swine has obviously made a mockery of this fine institution. I mean, just look at what she's done to the campus garden."

Lead douche preppy, Leighton Kingsley Emerson Winslow III, presents his overly expensive phone as evidence to Headmaster Wingding, who scrolls through said evidence.

"These pictures show that she trashed the once beautiful garden that everyone has worked so tirelessly to create and tend to for so long."

"Sir Headmaster, do I really need to be here? We know how this will go."

"Quiet, tart!"

"...You can get away with calling me a pig, but to call me a whore...Sir! You disgrace my honor. I challenge you to a duel."

He apparently does not like my mock French accent.

"You are a virus. Infecting this institution. But no more. Like a gangrenous limb, I shall see to it you are removed before you do any further harm."

"Eh. Whatever helps you to sleep at night, butt munch."

"Bite your tongue!"

" 🕆 ✏ 👌 ❄ ✡ 🕆📬📬📬 🕆💧❄ 👌 💧✋ ❄📬" (ENOUGH! BOTH OF YOU...JUST BE SILENT.)

"Yes, sir."

"Understood, Headmaster."

He fiddles around with the phone for a bit more before setting his eyes on Leighton.

"✌ 🕆 👎 🕈 ✌❄ ❄✋💣 ✌ ✡ 🕆 ✌👍👍🕆💧✋ 👎 ✋ ❄ ✋💧✍" (AROUND WHAT TIME ARE YOU ACCUSING HER OF DOING THIS?)

"I believe the incident accrued around ten or eleven PM. She would've had the cover of darkness and no witnesses to worry about."

"🕈 ✋ ❄ 🕆 📪 💧 🕈 🕆 👎 ✌ 💧 👎 ❄ 👌 ✌😐 ❄ 💧👍 🕆 👎💧📬" (WHILE TRUE, SHE WOULD ALSO NEED TO BREAK ONTO SCHOOL GROUNDS.)

Wingding pulls out some reports.

" 💣 👍 👎💧 ✋ 🏱✌✋ 🕯💧 👍 ✌💧💧 *ahem* 💧❄🕆👎 ❄ ✌🏱🏱 ✋ 💧 ✌❄ ❄ 👌🕆❄ ✌👍😐💧 🕆🏱🏱 🏱 ✡💧✋👍✌ 💧❄ ❄📬 💧 ✋💧 🕆 ✌👌 ❄ 💧🕆🏱🏱 ❄ 👌 👎✡ 💧 ❄ 🏱 ✋ 👎💧 ❄✋💣 📬 💧❄✌💣✋ ✌ ✋💧 ✌ 💧 ✌ ✋💧💧🕆 📪 💧❄🕆👎 ❄ ✋ 👎💧 ❄ 💣💧 ✞ 💧 🕆❄ 👌 ✌❄ ✌ ❄ ✡ ✋✞ 💣✋ 🕆❄ 💧 ✌👍❄✋✞✋❄✡📬" (FROM HER RECORDS IN PAIN'S CLASS *AHEM* STUDENT APPLIES GREAT EFFORT BUT LACKS UPPER PHYSICAL STRENGHT. SHE IS UNABLE TO SUPPORT HER BODY FOR SHORT PERIODS OF TIME. STAMINA IS ALSO AN ISSUE, STUDENT FINDS THEMSELVES OUT OF BREATH AFTER ONLY FIVE MINUTES OF ACTIVITY.)

"Wow, Pain. I know I'm not in the best shape, but did he really have to make it sound like I'm seconds from death's door?"

"So the girl is a sack of bricks. What does this have to do with anything?"

"❄ 🕈✌ 💧 ✌ 🕆 👎 ❄ ✌👍✌👎 💣✡ ✌ ❄🕈 ❄✡ ❄ ✋ 📬 👌✌💧 👎 ✌👌✋ ✋❄✋ 💧📪 💧 🕈 🕆 👎 👌 🕆 ✌👌 ❄ 👍 ✋💣👌 ✞ ✋❄📬" (THE WALLS AROUND THE ACADEMY ARE TWENTY FEET HIGH. BASED ON HER ABILITIES, SHE WOULD BE UNABLE TO CLIMB OVER IT.)

"Then she used a ladder."

" ✌👎👎 💣✌ 😐💧 🕈 🕆 👎 ✋ 🕆 💧 ✌ 👍 ❄ 🕆 👎💧📬 ✌ 👎 ✋ 💧 ✋ 👎 👎 👎✋👎 ✌ ❄ ✋💧 👎✌💣✌ 👌✡ 💧 📪 💧 🕈 🕆 👎 ✌✞ ❄ ✌✞ 👍✌ ✋ 👎 🕈✋❄ ❄ 💧 💧 💣 💧 ❄📬 ❄ 🕈 ✋ ❄ 🕈 🕆 👎 ✌❄ ✌💧❄ ✌✞ 💣✌ 😐💧📪 👌🕆❄ ❄ 🕈 📬" (NO LADDER MARKS WERE FOUND IN OUR SEARCH OF THE GROUNDS. AND IF SHE INDEED DID ALL THIS DAMAGE BY HERSELF, SHE WOULD HAVE TO HAVE CARRIED WITH HER TOOLS OF SOME SORT. THE WEIGHT WOULD AT LEAST LEAVE MARKS, BUT THERE WERE NONE.)

"Then she went through the gate."

" ✡ ✌👍🕆 ❄✡ ✌✞ ❄ ✌👌✋ ✋❄✡ ❄ 🏱 ✌❄ ❄ ✌❄ 📬 ✌ ✡ 🕆 💧🕆 💧❄✋ ❄ ✌❄ ✌ 💣 💣👌 💧❄✌ 🏱 👎 ✍" (ONLY FACULTY HAVE THE ABILITY TO OPERATE THE GATE. ARE YOU SUGGESTING THAT A MEMBER OF STAFF HELPED HER?)

"It must be if that is the only way."

"Dude, you are grasping at so many straws that it's sad."

"✋ ✌ 📬" (I AGREE.)

Leighton is not happy.

"Headmaster, you have the proof right there. Those images reveal her crime."

" 📪 ❄ ✡ 👎 🕯❄📬" (NO, THEY DON'T.)

"W-what?"

" ✡ 💧✋ 📬📬📬🕈 🕈 ✡ 🕆 ✌ 🕆 👎 ❄ 🕆 💧 ❄ ✌ 👎 ✞ ✌💧❄ ✋ ❄✍" (LYNSIE...WHERE WERE YOU AROUND THE HOURS OF TEN AND ELEVEN LAST NIGHT?)

"I was at the movies. Managed to catch a late night screening of Mew Mew Kissy Cutie 3."

"She's lying!"

"I have my ticket stub, douchelord."

"💧 🕈 💣 📬" (SHOW ME.)

I open my bag and take out my wallet. Rummaging through the pockets to produce said ticket stub and handing it over.

"Wha...Why would you just be carrying that?"

"I collect every movie ticket stub I get so that it helps me to remember the movie or get a refund if it sucked."

" 💣💣💣📬📬📬💧 ❄ ✋ ❄ ❄ 🕆❄ 📬 💣 🕈 💣 🕈 😐✋💧💧✡ 👍🕆❄✋ 🗏📬 💧❄✌ ❄✋ ✌❄ 🖲🖳🗐🗄 🏱💣 ✌ 👎 👎💧 ✌❄ 📂📂🖳📂🗄 🏱💣📬 💧 🕆 💧💧 💧 👍✌ 👌 ✋ ❄🕈 🏱 ✌👍 💧 ✌❄ 👍 📪 💧 👍 🕆 👎 🕯❄ ✌✞ 👍 💣💣✋❄❄ 👎 ❄ ✋💧 👍 ✋💣 📬" (HMMM...SHE TELLING THE TRUTH. MEW MEW KISSY CUTIE 3. STARTING AT 9:45 PM AND ENDS AT 11:15 PM. SO UNLESS SHE CAN BE IN TWO PLACES AT ONCE, SHE COULDN'T HAVE COMMITTED THIS CRIME.)

"B-but the pictures?!"

"✡ 💧📪 ❄ 💧 🏱✋👍❄🕆 💧📬 ❄ 💧 🏱✋👍❄🕆 💧 ✡ 🕆 🏱 📬" (YES, THESE PICTURES. THESE PICTURES ON YOUR PHONE.)

"A-are you implying I did this?!"

"I think it's fairly obvious at this point."

"✋ 👎 🕯❄ ✌✞ ❄ ✋💣🏱 ✡ ✌ ✡❄ ✋ 📬 ✡ 🕆 🏱 👍 💧💧 👎 ✡ 🕆📬 ✌👍 ❄✋💣 ✡ 🕆 ❄✌😐 ✌ 🏱✋👍❄🕆 ✋❄ 👍 ✌❄ 💧 ✌ ❄✋💣 💧❄✌💣🏱 ❄ 👎✌❄ ✌ 👎 ❄✋💣 🕈 ✋❄ 🕈✌💧 👍 ✌❄ 👎📬 🕆 ✡ 🕈 ❄ 💧 ✋💣✌ 💧 ✌ ❄✋💣 👎 ✌❄ 👌 ✋ 💣✌👎 ✌❄ ❄ ❄✋💣 ✡ 🕆 👍 ✌💣 💧 👎✋👎 ❄ ✋💧📬" (I DON'T HAVE TO IMPLY ANYTHING. YOUR PHONE CONFESSED FOR YOU. EACH TIME YOU TAKE A PICTURE IT CREATES A TIME STAMP OF THE DATE AND TIME FOR WHEN IT WAS CREATED. FUNNY HOW THESE IMAGES ARE TIMED AT BEING MADE AT THE TIME YOU CLAME SHE DID THIS.)

Leighton scoffs, blowing everything off.

"And why would I do this? What motive do I have for framing her?"

"The same one you keep preaching about in the halls every chance you get."

"Fuck you!"

" ✋ ❄ ✏" (LEIGHTON!)

Wingding slams the phone down and we both flinch from the shock.

"❄ ✋💧 ✋💧 ❄ ✋ ❄ ✌👍👍🕆💧✌❄✋ ✡ 🕆🕯✞ 👌 🕆 ❄ ✌ ✌✋ 💧❄ ❄ ✋💧 💣 ❄ ✌ 📬 ✡ 🕆 💣✌✡ ❄ ✋ 😐 ✡ 🕆 ✌ 👎 ✡ 🕆 ✋❄❄ ✋ 👎💧 👍✌ 👎 ✌💧 ✡ 🕆 🏱 ✌💧 📪 👌🕆❄ 💣 📬 ✋ ✌💣 💧✋👍😐 ❄ ✋💧 💧 💧 📬 ❄ ✋💧 ✌👍✌👎 💣✡ ✌ 👎 ✋ ✌ ❄ ❄ ✡💧 ✡ 🕆 🏱 ��❄✡ 💧✈🕆✌👌 💧📬" (THIS IS THE FIFTH ACCUSATION YOU'VE BROUGHT AGAINST HER THIS MONTH ALONE. YOU MAY THINK YOU AND YOUR LITTLE FRIENDS CAN DO AS YOU PLEASE, BUT NO MORE. I AM SICK OF THIS NONSENSE. THIS ACADEMY AND I ARE NOT TOYS FOR YOUR PETTY SQUABLES.)

"But Headmaster..."

" 👌🕆❄💧✏ ✋🕯💣 ✌ ✌✋👎 ✡ 🕆 ✌✞ 💣 👍 ✋👍 📬📬📬👌🕆❄ ✌💧 ✋ ❄ 🕈📪 ✡ 🕆 ✌ 💧🕆💧🏱 👎 👎 ❄ ✠❄ ❄🕈 🕈 😐💧📬" (NO BUTS! I'M AFRAID YOU LEAVE ME NO CHOICE...BUT AS OF RIGHT NOW, YOU ARE SUSPENDED FOR THE NEXT TWO WEEKS.)

Even I'm shocked by that, but not as much as Leighton. He does not handle this well.

"Su...Suspended? Me? Impossible!"

"Dude, chill."

"Shut your mouth, you filthy monster loving freak!"

" ✋ ❄ 📪 ✋ 💧🕆 💧❄ ✡ 🕆 💧✋ 👍 ✡ 🕆 💧 👌 ✡ 🕆 💣✌😐 ❄ ✋💧 🕈 💧 📬" (LEIGHTON, I SUGGEST YOU SILENCE YOURSELF BEFORE YOU MAKE THIS WORSE.)

"No! You shut up! You, you're beneath me! All you monsters are! This world would be better off if your kind was agh...!"

I couldn't stand his hate speech any longer and kicked his leg out from my seat, knocking him down.

"You have such a big mouth that really likes the sound of your own voice, but nothing that comes out of it is ever worth listening to."

Leighton gets up and grabs me by the collar of my shirt.

"You piss ant. Do you not know who I am? I am Leighton Kingsley Emerson Winslow III! I am heir to more money than you'd know what to do in ten lifetimes."

"And this is supposed to be intimidating or impressive why?"

He shoves me out of my seat, takes his phone back, and storms his way out the door.

"I will see to it that you lose this job and near be able to teach again. And you...Mark my words, I will do all my power to destroy you!."

With that, Leighton takes his leave and I pick myself off the floor.

"Wow...He needs to get laid big time."

"✋ 👎 🕯❄ 💧 🕈 ✡ ✡ 🕆🕯 💣✌😐✋ ✋ ❄ ❄ ✋💧📬" (I DON'T SEE WHY YOU'RE MAKING LIGHT OF THIS.)

"I'm not afraid of him. He's got issues and is just venting on others because he either is too scared to battle the real problem or he can't actually do so."

"❄ ✌❄🕯💧 ✌❄ ✋ 💧✋ ❄ 🕆 ✡ 🕆📬" (THAT'S RATHER INSIGHTFUL OF YOU.)

"Heh, I do pay attention to Stretch's class you know. Besides...Can't I enjoy some part of this? that asshole and his buddies have been messing with me for ages. It's nice to see karma bite back finally."

" 📬📬📬✋ 💧 💧✌ 💧🕯💧 ❄✌ 😐 😐✌ 💣✌ ✌💧 🕆👌👌 👎 ✡ 🕆📬" (HEH...I SEE SANS'S TALK OF KARMA HAS RUBBED OFF ON YOU.)

"You can say that..."

I lean over his desk and smirk.

"That was rather clever of you. And you came up with it so fast too. I'm very impressed sir."

Wingding merely smirks back.

"👎 ✌ ✋ 📪 ✋ 😐 🕈 ❄ 🕈 ✌❄ ✡ 🕆 💣 ✌ 📬" (DEAR GIRL, I KNOW NOT WHAT YOU MEAN.)

"Oh, I know you know sir. After all, I didn't finish off that jumbo popcorn by myself."

He chuckles and scratches the crack over his right eye.

"✡ ✌ 📬📬📬🕈 📬📬📬✋ 👎✋👎 🕯❄ ✋ 🕆 ✋🕯👎 👌 💧 🕆 ✡ ✌ ❄ 🕈✌✋❄✋ ✋ ✋ 💧 📬" (YEAH...WELL...I DIDN'T FIGURE I'D BE SO HUNGRY AFTER WAITING IN LINE SO LONG.)

"Don't worry. Like I said, I won't tell anyone you're a Mew Mew fan. Besides...It was nice just being able to hang out like that."

"❄ ✌❄ ✋❄ 🕈✌💧📬 ❄ 💧✋ 📬 🕈 ✋ 💧📬 🕆💧❄ ❄🕈 ✌👎🕆 ❄💧 ❄ ✌❄ 🕆💧❄ 💧 ✌🏱🏱 ❄ 💣 ❄ 🕆🏱📬 ✡✋ ✌ 💣 ✞✋ ✌ 👎 ✌👍 ❄ 🕯💧 👍 💣🏱✌ ✡📬 ✋❄ ❄ 👎📬" (THAT IT WAS. NO TENSION. NO WORRIES. JUST TWO ADULTS THAT JUST SO HAPPEN TO MEET UP. ENJOYING A MOVIE AND EACH OTHER'S COMPANY. IT FELT GOOD.)

"I understand why you didn't mention it during snobby douche lord's tirade. It wouldn't look good. You, the Headmaster, backing me up with an alibi...It would just make it look like favoritism and further instigate him."

"✋ 👎 ✌🏱 ✋ ✋💧 👌 ✌✞✋ 📬" (I DO APOLOGIZE FOR HIS BEHAVIOR.)

"Do not waste your time saying sorry for someone that isn't. Though, I do apologize that you have to deal with people like that. Humanity is a less accepting than it likes to believe it is. But at least we all aren't super racist assholes."

He sighs.

"✋ 😐 🕈📬 ✡ 🕆🕯 ❄ 👎 💧📬 ✡ 🕆🕯✞ 👌 ✌ ✌💣✌ ✋ ✋ 🕆 👍 ❄ 👍✌💣🏱🕆💧📬 ✌ 👎 ✋ 👍✌ 🕯❄ ❄ ✌ 😐 ✡ 🕆 🕆 👎 👎✋ 🏱✌🏱✡ 🕆💧📬" (I KNOW. YOU'RE ONE OF THE GOOD ONES. YOU'VE BEEN AN AMAZING INFLUENCE ON THE CAMPUS. AND I CAN'T THANK YOU ENOUGH FOR DEFENDING PAPYRUS.)

"Hey, he's super sweet cinnamon bun that no one has the right to harm. I'm just happy I get to be his friend."

"✋ ❄ 💧✌💣 🕈✌✡📬" (I FEEL THE SAME WAY.)

He stands up and moves over to me.

"✋ 👎 🏱 ✡ 🕆 👎✋👎 🕯❄ ✋ 👎 💣 🕆👎 ✌💧❄ ✋ ❄📬" (I DO HOPE YOU DIDN'T FIND ME RUDE LAST NIGHT.)

I stand up straight and look at him funny.

"Why would I think you were rude? If anything, I thought I was rude. I couldn't keep my mouth shut and was pointing out sins in the movie. By the way, how far did I get to again?"

"🕈 👌 ❄ 💣✌👎 ✋❄ 🕆🏱 ❄ ✌ ❄ ❄✌ ✋ ❄✡ 💧 ✞ 💧✋ 💧 ❄ ✌❄ 🕈 ❄ ✌ ✌✋ 💧❄ 🕈 👍 👎 👎 ✌ 👎 ✌👍👍 🏱❄ 👎 👍✌ 📬 👌🕆❄ 🕈 ✌❄ ✋ 💣 ✌ ❄ 🕈✌💧 ✌ ❄ ❄ 💣 ✞✋ 📬 ✡ 🕆 😐 🕈📬📬📬" (WE BOTH MADE IT UP TO A TOTAL OF EIGHTY SEVEN SINS THAT WENT AGAINST WELL RECORDED AND ACCEPTED CANON. BUT WHAT I MEANT WAS AFTER THE MOVIE. YOU KNOW...)

I wave off his concern.

"*pfft* So you got a little loose. It's fine. It was happy hour at Chili's after all. What're a few drinks between friends for? *giggles* To be honest though...It was cute as hell seeing you drunk and still win the trivia tournament."

He blushes a faint hue of purple and rubs the back of his skull.

"❄ ✌ 😐💧📬 👌🕆❄ ❄ ✌❄🕯💧 💧❄✋ ❄ 🕈 ✌❄ ✋ 🕈✌💧 ✋ ❄ 📬" (THANKS. BUT THAT'S STILL NOT WHAT I WAS REFERRING TO.)

"Then what?"

"✡ 🕆📬📬📬✡ 🕆 👎 🕯❄ 💣 💣👌 ✍" (YOU...YOU DON'T REMEMBER?)

"Remember what?"

He's about to say it but hesitates. Moving up to me and whispering in my ear.

"🕈 📬📬📬🕈 😐✋ 👎 💣✌👎 🕆❄📬" (WE...WE KIND OF MADE OUT.)

"...Really?"

"✡ ✌ 📬" (YEAH.)

I blush but just smile.

"Well, that doesn't sound as bad as you were making it. Silly skeleton."

"❄ ✌❄🕯💧 ❄ ✌ ❄ ✌❄ ✌🏱🏱 👎📬" (THAT'S NOT ALL THAT HAPPENED.)

"Oh..."

"✋❄ ✌🏱🏱 👎 ✈🕆✋❄ ✌ 🕈 ❄✋💣 💧 ✌❄ ❄ 💧❄✌🕆 ✌ ❄📬 ❄ ✋ 💣✡ 👍✌ 📬 ❄ 💧 💣 💣 ✌❄ ✡ 🕆 🏱 ✌👍 📬📬📬" (IT HAPPENED QUITE A FEW TIMES AT THE RESTAURANT. THEN IN MY CAR. THEN SOME MORE AT YOUR PLACE...)

"Uh...Just how far did this go?"

He puts his hands up defensively.

" ❄ ❄ ✌❄ ✌ 📪 ✋ 💧🕈 ✌ ✏ ✌❄ 💣 💧❄📪 🕈 💣✌✡ ✌✞ 👎 ✌ 🕆 👎 ✌ ✋❄❄ 📪 👌🕆❄ ❄ ✋ ❄ 💧 ✋ 🕆💧📬" (NOT THAT FAR, I SWEAR! AT MOST, WE MAY HAVE FOOLED AROUND A LITTLE, BUT NOTHING TOO SERIOUS.)

I sigh with relief.

"That's good. Wait...What is 'too serious'?"

"👍 ❄ ✋ 💧❄✌✡ 👎 ✌ 👎 🕈 💧 🏱❄ ✋ 👎✋ ❄ 💣💧📬 ✋ 🕈✌💧 ❄ 👍 🕆👍 ✌ 👎 ❄ 👌 ✡ 🕆 🕈 😐 🕆🏱📬" (CLOTHING STAYED ON AND WE SLEPT IN DIFFERENT ROOMS. I WAS ON THE COUCH AND LEFT BEFORE YOU WOKE UP.)

"...That explains why none of that rings a bell with me."

"✡ 🕆 👎✋👎 🕈✌ 💣 ✌ ✌👎 ❄✋💣 ❄ ✌❄ ✡ 🕆🕯✞ ✞ 👍 💧🕆💣 👎 ✌ 👍 👌 📬" (YOU DID WARN ME AHEAD OF TIME THAT YOU'VE NEVER CONSUMED ALCOHOL BEFORE.)

"I remember it did not taste good straight."

"❄ ✌❄🕯💧 🕈 ✡ ✡ 🕆 ❄ ✋ 👎 💣✋✠✋ ❄ 💣 ✋ 💧 👎✌💧📬" (THAT'S WHY YOU TRIED MIXING THEM IN SODAS.)

I smack my forehead.

"Remind me not to do that again next time."

"✡ ✌ 📪 ✡ 🕆 ❄ ✌ ✡ 👌 👎 ✡ ✌ 👍❄✋ ✌❄ 🕈 ✡ 🕆🕯 📬📬📬🕈✌✋❄📪 🕈 ✌❄✍" (YEAH, YOU GET REALLY BOLDLY AFFECTIONATE WHEN YOU'RE...WAIT, WHAT?)

He looks at me surprised.

"What?"

"❄ 🕯💧 ✌ ✠❄ ❄✋💣 ✍ ✡ 🕆 💣 ✌ 📬📬📬✡ 🕆 💧❄✋ 🕈✌ ❄ ❄ 👌 ✌ 🕆 👎 💣 ✍" (THERE'S A NEXT TIME? YOU MEAN...YOU STILL WANT TO BE AROUND ME?)

"Uh...Yeah. Why not? You free tonight?"

"🕆 📬📬📬✡📫✡ 💧📬" (UH...Y-YES.)

"Cool. Because I'm so challenging you for the title of trivia master."

He chuckles and pats my back.

"✡ 🕆 👍✌ ❄ ✡📪 ✋❄❄ 📬 ✡ 🕆 👍✌ 👍 ❄✌✋ ✡ ❄ ✡📬" (YOU CAN TRY, LITTLE ONE. YOU CAN CERTAINLY TRY.)

"And the loser pays the bill."

" 📬📬📬👌 ❄❄ ✌✞ ✡ 🕆 🕈✌ ❄ ✌ 👎✡ ❄ 📬" (HEHEH...BETTER HAVE YOUR WALLET HANDY THEN.)

[Later that night after much merriment and trivia festivities]

We drunkenly stumble into Wingding's home. My hands snake around him as he fumbles with his keys, feeling down his pants for his hipbone with reckless abandon, making him fight back a deep shudder.

" ✡ 💧✋ 📪 🏱 ✌💧 📬📬📬🕈✌✋❄ ❄✋ ✋ 👍 💧 ❄ 👎 ✋ 💧❄📬" (LYNSIE, PLEASE...WAIT TILL I CLOSE THE DOOR FIRST.)

"Relax, Gaster. I just want you to feel good. It's called being a generously gracious loser."

" 🕆💧❄📬📬📬 ❄ ❄ 👍 🕆👍 ✌ 👎 😐 🏱 ❄ 💧 🕆 👎 🕈📬 ✋ 👎 🕯❄ 🕈✌ ❄ ❄ 🕈✌😐 💣✡ 👌 ❄ 💧📬" (JUST...GO TO THE COUCH AND KEEP THE SOUND LOW. I DON'T WANT TO WAKE MY BROTHERS.)

"*whisper* Okay...But don't keep me waiting...Headmaster~."

I swayed over to the couch, trying to be sexy but most likely looking silly to a sober person. Wingding locks the door and approaches me, sitting down thus allowing me to resume our fun. I pull his tie off slowly and begin unbuttoning his vest then shirt. His hands feel along my sides, tracing the curves of my form and taking the time to traverse the clothe that rest upon the supple warm flesh his bones crave.

"💧 📬📬📬🕈 ✡ 👎 ❄ ✡ ✞ 💧 ✞ 👌 ✌❄ ✌ 💣✌❄ 🏱✌ ❄✡📬" (SO...WHY DO THEY NEVER SERVE BEER AT A MATH PARTY.)

"Huh?"

"👌 👍✌🕆💧 ✡ 🕆 👍✌ 🕯❄ 👎 ✋ 😐 ✌ 👎 👎 ✋✞ 📬" (BECAUSE YOU CAN'T DRINK AND DERIVE.)

I snicker and move onto his lap, peeling away his torso coverings and feeling up his ribs, making him suck in air in bliss.

"What three candies can you find in every school?"

"🕈 ✌❄✍" (WHAT?)

"Nerds, DumDums, and smarties."

"✋ 📄 ✋💧 ❄ 💣🕆 ✌ 🕈✌❄ 📪 🕈 ✌❄ ✋💧 ❄ 💣🕆 ✌ ✋👍 ✍" (IF H2O IS THE FORMULA FOR WATER, WHAT IS THE FORMULA FOR ICE?)

"I don't know."

" 📄 👍🕆👌 👎📬" (H2O CUBED.)

"I heard oxygen went on a date with potassium today."

"👎✋👎 ✋❄ 🕈✍" (DID IT NOW?)

"It went 'OK'."

He chuckles and leans into me, planting kisses on my neck.

"✋ ❄ 🕆 ❄ ✠✡ 🕈✌💧 👎✌❄✋ 💣✌ 💧✋🕆💣✍ 🕯 💣 🕯📪 ✋ ❄✍" (I THOUGHT OXYGEN WAS DATING MAGNESIUM? 'OMG', RIGHT?)

Even when our minds are under the influence, we can't help but fall into our most basic traits.

"*giggles* Actually, oxygen first asked nitrogen out, but nitrogen was all like 'NO'."

"*snickers* ✋ ❄ 🕆 ❄ ✠✡ ✌👎 ❄ ✌❄ 👎 🕆👌 👌✋ 👎 🕈✋❄ ❄ ✡👎 ❄🕈✋ 💧✍ 😐💧 ✋😐 💧 💣 🕯💧 ✌ 🕯 🕯📬" (*SNICKERS* I THOUGHT OXYGEN HAD THAT DOUBLE BIND WITH THE HYDROGEN TWINS? LOOKS LIKE SOMEONE'S AN 'HO'.)

"NaBrO."

He can't help but laugh at this nutty line of science jokes. He's not known for partaking in them like this, but if the jokes are in his line of knowledge, then they will tickle his funny bone. Plus, his brother Classic and a good number of my other bony friends are masters in the art of punning. So my skills in jokes are all thanks to them.

"I wish I was adenine."

"✡ 🕆 👎 ✍" (YOU DO?)

"Yeah...then I could get paired with U."

"🕈 ✌❄ ✋💧 ❄ ✌💧❄ 💧❄ 🕈✌✡ ❄ 👎 ❄ 💣✋ ❄ 💧 ✠ ✌ 👍 💣 💧 💣 ✍" (WHAT IS THE FASTEST WAY TO DETERMINE THE SEX OF A CHROMOSOME?)

"Do tell."

"🏱🕆 👎 🕈 ✋❄💧 💧❞📬" (PULL DOWN ITS GENES~.)

"Mmmm...Don't mind if I do~."

He flinches a little when I unfasten his belt and zip his pants down.

"*shudder* 📫 ❄❄✋ ✌ 📪 👎 🕯❄ ✡ 🕆 ❄ ✋ 😐✍" (*SHUDDER* G-GETTING EAGER, DON'T YOU THINK?)

"Is that a complaint?"

" ❄ ✡ 🕆 ✋ 📬" (NOT ON YOUR LIFE.)

"Good. Then allow me to work my magic on you. Because not only are we scientists, but we have the ability to do each other on a table, periodically."

I trace my fingers in between each sensitive bone. Hazily memorizing the smooth texture and enjoying the way his face shifted differently when certain places were touched.

"I'm going to learn how to please your body the same way you teach me about the Krebs Cycle...By going over it repeatedly every few semesters~."

He gulps as I lean into his chest, curling my tongue around ribs and sucking on them slowly. He groans as his hands claw at me, one in my hair clutches my head so it can't move away and the other is under my thigh to help the support.

" 📬📬📬👎 🕯❄ 💧❄ 🏱 ❄✋ ✡ 🕆 🏱 🏱 💣✡ 💧✡ ✞✋✌ 🕆✋👎📬📬📬" (OOOOOH...DON'T STOP TILL YOU POP MY SYNOVIAL FLUID...)

"*coos* As long as you bring your stirring rod, I'll bring my beaker~."

The hand in my hair pulls me up and he slams his mouth to my own, deepening the kiss with his magic made tongue.

"🕈 📬📬📬✡ 🕆 😐 🕈 🕈 ✌❄ ❄ ✡ 💧✌✡📬 *moans* ✋❄🕯💧 ❄ ❄ 💧✋ ❄ ✌ 🕆💣📬📬📬*shudder* 👌🕆❄ ❄ 💣 ❄✋ ❄ ✠❄ ✌👍 🕆 ✌ 🕆✋👎📬" (WELL...YOU KNOW WHAT THEY SAY. *MOANS* IT'S NOT THE SIZE OF THE FLAGELLUM...*SHUDDER* BUT THE MOTION OF THE EXTRACELLULAR FLUID.)

"Then why don't you and me...*groans* take this potential energy...*swoons* add some acceleration...*gasp* and make some kinetic energy all over this couch~."

He pulls me back and we just stare at each other for some time.

"✌ ✡ 🕆 💧🕆 ✡ 🕆 🕈✌ ❄ ❄ ✋💧✍ ✋ 💣 ✌ 📬📬📬🕈 👎 🕯❄ ✌✞ ❄ 👎 ✌ ✡❄ ✋ 📬" (ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT THIS? I MEAN...WE DON'T HAVE TO DO ANYTHING.)

"Gaster...I'm as positive as a proton. So don't be a negative electron. Or else this will become as exciting as a neutron...no charge."

"✌ ✋ ❄📪 ✋ ❄ ✋❄📬 🕆💧❄ 👎 🕆👌 👍 👍😐✋ 📬" (ALRIGHT, I GET IT. JUST DOUBLE CHECKING.)

In one fluid motion, he pulls my shirt up and off me to join the other removed clothes scattered on the floor. He looks at me, then looks at my chest, now back to me, now back at body, now back to me.

"You okay?"

"✡ 🕆 💣🕆💧❄ 👌 ❄ 🏱 ✌💧 📬 👌 👍✌🕆💧 ✋🕯💣 💧❄✌ ✋ ✌❄ ✡ 🕆 👍 ✌✞✌ 🕆 🕈📬" (YOU MUST BE TELOPHASE. BECAUSE I'M STARING AT YOUR CLEAVAGE FURROW.)

It takes a moment before I have to cover my mouth to keep from laughing out loud.

"Oh my god...You are so bad that it's actually sexy."

" ❄ ✞ ✡ 👎✌✡ ✋ 👍✌ 🕆💧 ❄ ✌❄ 📬" (NOT EVERY DAY I CAN USE THAT ONE.)

"Well if that's the case...If I was an endoplasmic reticulum, how would you want me...smooth or rough~?"

His face blushes deeply and he blanks of emotion. Suddenly he moves me off him so he can stand up. He hastily picks me up and blots to his room, kicking his pants off along the way. His underwear shakes off till it's around his ankle and it would've been fine till it catches on the door when he tries closing it, so we tumble over each other.

Thank god we're wasted or that would've hurt a lot more. Now a sober person would be so turned off by being dropped on the ground with the efficiency of a farmer chucking a feed bag into the back of their wagon, but not us. In our messed up state, we found this hilarious. Laughing as we get back up, totally not caring if there are two other people sleeping at whatever time of the night this is, and fooling around as we get to his bed.

I shove him onto the bed, putting on a sloppy striptease of removing my skirt and panties, finishing with the unveiling of my ample chest. While he clearly appreciates the show, the dropping of my skirt alone made him produce a magical purple member and by the time he sees my breasts that bad boy is at full mast.

"You know, I can supply the Ligase to lengthen your strand. Or how about a little Telomerase to extend DAT chromosome~?"

Resting on his elbows, he licks wipes away some escaping drool and gulps with a weary smile.

"✋ 👎 🕯❄ 😐 🕈📬 ✋ ✞ ✌ 👎 ❄ 🏱 ✋💣 ✞ ✌ 📬" (I DON'T KNOW. I LOVE A GOOD THREE PRIME OVERHANG.)

"Three? Oh no sir. You are more of a good hard five prime end to me."

"✡ 🕆 ✌❄❄ 💣 📪 ✋❄❄ 📬" (YOU FLATTER ME, LITTLE ONE.)

I crawl on top of him and kiss up his ribcage.

"How about we make like the change of base law, with you on the bottom, and me on top~?"

" ✡ ✋ ✡ 🕆🕯 👌 ❄ ✌ 😐✡ ✌❄ ❄ 💣✡ ✌ 😐 ✠✋👎 📬" (ONLY IF YOU'LL BE THE ALKYLATE TO MY ALKOXIDE.)

"Okay, but why?"

"👌 👍✌🕆💧 📬📬📬✋❄🕯💧 🕆👍 🏱 ✋ ✋👍 ✌ 👎 ✌👎✡ ❄ 👌✌👍😐💧✋👎 ✌❄❄✌👍😐 ❄ ✌ 🕆❄ ✡ 🕆📬" (BECAUSE...IT'S NUCLEOPHILIC AND READY TO BACKSIDE ATTACK THE HALOGEN OUT OF YOU.)

He spanks me and I yelp. This first worries him, that fear subsides when he sees the giddy look on my face.

"No more waiting. Once you hit my G1 spot, we'll get this cell cycle started~."

"✋ ✋ 👍 🕆 👎 🏱 ✌💣 ❄ 🕆 ✋✞ 💧 📪 ✋ 🕈 🕆 👎 ✌ 👍✌❄ ✡ 🕆 ✌ 👎 ✋ ✋ 👍 ❄✋ 🕆 🕆💧 💣 �� ✡ 👌 👍😐💧📬" (IF I COULD PROGRAM THE UNIVERSE, I WOULD ALLOCATE YOU AND I IN CONTIGUOUS MEMORY BLOCKS.)

"Gaster, slip between these beta-pleated sheets and get to know my alpha-helix."

He shudders hard and grabs my face, pulling me into a heated kiss while my body does the rest of the work. Straddling the delirious skeleton, any restraint evaporates as I lower myself, my aching virgin flower desperate for contact. My thighs quiver as I touch his wobbling column of maleness, the slick pre-goo coating my engorged clit, smothering it with tingling warmth. Oblivious to the apparent size difference, my body pushes downwards, my knees giving out, forcing his member against the entrance roughly. The need to be speared on his magic made boner is an overwhelming urge, egged on by the leaking pre-goo currently pumping into my love hole. With strength born of unnatural lust, I grip his shoulders and drive myself downwards, feeling myself stretch painfully as I take in his length.

Keeping the kiss, I feel his hands grab me by the thighs, forcefully grinding up and down along his length. Every inch of his towering slick rod presses tightly against my inner walls, smearing more of his wondrous pre-goo into my body with every stroke. Now with this rhythm in mind, I pick up the pace, heartbeat thudding in my ears as like a guiding metronome, making him convulse as his man-bit vibrates as I slam down on it over and over again. I find myself swooning loudly at the feeling of him thickening, bulging out at the base and slowly fattening inside me until it feels I might burst. With a throaty moan, he cums, erupting magic goo into what feels like my womb. My eyes roll back as it fills me, swooning as I feel the liquid pleasure seeping into me. My wall clamp down, trapping his essence inside, his orgasm dragging on. The copious fluid attempts filling my needy core. But I'm not ready to end it yet.

"Gaster..."

He pants and lazily looks at me.

"✡📫✡ 💧✍" (Y-YES?)

"You know...It's not the length of the vector that counts, but how you apply the force. And right now, there's some intense pressure in my core that needs you to add further heat to make my diamonds. Get the hint?"

My words rattle in his skull before his sockets widen.

"🕆 👎 💧❄ 👎 👎 ✌ 📪 🕆👎 ✌ 👎 👍 ✌ 📬" (UNDERSTOOD DEAR, LOUD AND CLEAR.)

The once very professional skeleton grabs me around the waist and flips me over while somehow maintaining our sexual connection. Now taking the reins of this drunken dance of ours, he fondles my softball-sized jugs, squeezing and mauling them with his calcified hands. Lulling to his care, he gives no warning when he shoves himself down hard into me, slamming his hips forward in an especially deep thrust. My eyes go wide in shock, seeing stars as he rams the massive member past spots that break my intoxicated mind. Wingding works his hips fast, piston-pumping his long shaft in and out. The rampant babbling coming from my mouth hiccups with his every thrust, and my body is racked by oncoming orgasm after possible orgasm.

"Aaah...Oooooh...Gaster...Aaah-aaah-oooh...Yes...Yes...Don't stop~!"

" 📬📬📬 ✌ ✌📪 💣💣💣💣 ✡ 🕆 ✋😐 ❄ ✌❄ ✌ ❄📪 🕆 ✍ ✡ 🕆 ✋😐 ✋ 💣 ✋ 💧✋👎 ✡ 🕆📬 ❄ 💣 ✡ 🕆 ✋😐 ✋❄📬" (OOOO...HAHA, MMMM YOU LIKE THAT A LOT, HUH? YOU LIKE FEELING ME INSIDE YOU. TELL ME YOU LIKE IT.)

"I love it! Oh yeah...Oh, there...right there! Take me! I need it! Harder! More please!"

"✡ 💧📬📬📬 👎📪 ✡ 💧✏ ❄✌😐 ✋❄✏ ✌✌✌ 📬📬📬 ✡ 💧✋ 📬📬📬❄✌😐 ✌ ✋❄✏ ❄✌😐 ✋❄✏ ❄✌😐 💣✡ ✞ 📪 💣✡ 🕆💧❄📪 ✌ 👎 ✌ 💣✡ 👌 ✋ ✏ " (YES...OH GOD, YES! TAKE IT! AAAH...LYNSIE...TAKE ALL OF IT! TAKE IT! TAKE MY LOVE, MY LUST, AND ALL OF MY BEING!)

"G-gaster...So hard...So tight...So hot...Oooooh...Ah...Aahh..."

The sensation of him filling me up causes deep shudders to rip from the depths of my throat. My head begins to swim as he rakes along my inner walls, tugging, catching and massaging from the inside as he starts to vibrate in building release, causing me to lock my legs around his torso in hopes of smashing him to limits unknown. As my mouth hangs open in lust, he loses himself to the ecstasy, roughly impaling himself in me hard enough to leave bruises on the pair of us. His eyes clenched tightly shut as he revels in the feeling of my warm wet insides lavish him in all the right ways. Eventually, his efforts finally force me over the edge, my hungry sex lips clench tightly over him, rhythmically squeezing as it attempts to milk his shaft, and he certainly doesn't disappoint. With a yell loud enough to match how much the bed has been quaking, he erupts violently within me, his hot magic love goo pouring into my depths again, his face twisted into a snarl of pleasure and satisfaction.

Slowly I start to come down from this orgasmic high, mostly because I'm about to past out. The sensations are beginning to settle, but then I realize Wingding isn't slowing down. His hips carry on with their pumping right through his orgasm and continually slam into me. He persists long after the climax knocks him out, masterfully working me the entire time. I fight the urge to black out solely out of sheer respect for his ability and curiosity to know how many times he can go for. I lose count rather quickly thanks to my brain shutting down and the couple more orgasms I get along the way, but after his final release, his hips slow down till they just stop. His member fades inside me, copious oddly satisfying fluids struggle to stay inside me, but there's no doubt a sticky purple stain on his sheets. With his body draped over mine, I limply put my arms around him and fall into a blissful sex-induced sleep.

[Meanwhile: In the hallway]

An alert Papyrus and a groggy Sans stare at their elder sibling's bedroom door in utter disbelief.

"SANS..."

"yeah?"

"DID YOU HEAR LYNSIE'S VOICE IN ALL THAT?"

"yeah."

"SHOULD WE...SHOULD WE DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT? I'M UNSURE HOW TO PROCESS THIS."

"i don't think that would the wisest move to make."

"THEN WHAT DO WE DO?"

"do? we do nothing."

"THAT'S NOT HELPFUL."

"sometimes there are things you can't do anything about."

"BUT...IT FEELS SO AWKWARD."

"i know. but it's too late to do anything and i don't think anyone wants to see what's on the other side of that door after hearing the stuff e heard."

"YOU MAKE A GOOD POINT THERE."

"now, let's just get back to bed and try not to dream about whatever just happened in there. okay, pap?"

"OKAY. GOODNIGHT, SANS."

"goodnight, pap. and...*yawns* sweet dreams."

Papyrus returns to his room but Sans continues to linger a little bit out of sleepiness.

"heh...didn't think those two could get that wild. *yawns* i'm so putting them through the walk of shame in the morning."

With that, Sans sluggishly returns to his room and his bed. The tomorrow was going to be interesting.

#undertale #underfell #underswap #fellswap #dreemurr academy #underversity #sans #papyrus #gaster #buttercupsticksnlicks

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aleatoryalarmalligator · 7 years

Text

Life story Part 26

By the end of the year, my geology/math teacher, Mrs. Kerrick, in all earnest trying to get me to come to class since she knew full and well like everyone did, minus my dear old dad that I was skipping half my classes tried calling our home phone one day when I didn't show up. On this particular day, I had decided upon waking that today was simply too much, and I decided to stay home and surf the web. There was a call, and I could hear this insistence between the rings that let me know that someone was calling on behalf of me, about an hour after class. She left a message saying “Renee, I know you are there. I know you are not sick. You need to come to school. Renee...” I was sitting at the computer just looking at the answering machine saying my name in my teachers voice quite awkwardly. It made me pretty nervous. What if she came to the house?

I understand completely why she called. It was perhaps a little intrusive, but more than understandable, given that I had literally been absent half the time for almost a year. I think more than anything. what she was trying to do was be a good teacher who held me accountable. So I don't blame her for this. And I don't blame myself for skipping like I did either. This was the way things had to be. There was never any other way for them to go. It was an opportunity that was there and open for me with little or no oversight from a single adult, and furthermore, with everything in my life put into consideration, I was not emotionally equipped to go to school in a way that I couldn't really articulate to an adult without being shamed. If I had tried to explain my aversion to being there seven and a half hours a day, I would have been told that my feelings were wrong. Being a teenager puts you in an unfair double bias. If you are overpunished, it's either because you are one of the 'bad ones', or you need to be given a stricter sentence because that is the only way you will get to be a 'functioning adult'. And if you have anything to say about it, you are automatically angsty and hormonal and nothing you say has any merrit because you are still a child. There would be no winning had I tried to reach out to anyone.

Plus, I just have this side of me that gets a thrill from doing little things I am not supposed to. This is not a teenager thing. This is a 'me' thing. I have found ways to muffle about 90% of that side of me since I have to pay bills and make ends meet and try to get enough money to be open to new opportunities and such. But oh, if I had no worries. I love bending the rules.

Anyway, knowing that this might be the beginning in a grander attempt of Mrs. Kerrick's to get me to school on time everyday and might eventually lead to other teachers getting involved to rally against my tardy self, I knew I had to smother this fire out quick. So, I called my dad immediately, and told him I had been puking, and of course, for all his skepticism about me and how awful I was, he always believed me so wholeheartedly when I said I was sick, no matter how obvious and preposterous my condition was. It almost hurt too much lying that hard. And as a parent, it almost made him kind of terrible, because if I really had been sick as often as I claimed, he should have taken me to the doctors. Absolutely nobody is sick as often as I said I was and lives to see eighteen. I also let him know that my 'scary teacher' Mrs. Kerrick was harassing me on the phone and it was making me feel worried (I felt bad about this, but a girl's gotta do ya know?). And like a good father, he called the school and talked to the principal, who told Mrs. Kerrick she had to stop pestering me – much to the dismay of all the teachers who knew what I was doing, I am sure. So I won that one. My dad felt proud that he defended his poor sick daughter. I was in the wrong of course and I knew this, but I still won and sometimes that is what matters. I remember going to school that Monday and seeing a look on her face – not that she was angry at me, but just a sort of knowing resignation.

The principal took me into his office the end of that year, for a serious talk. He said I was one of the top ten students with the worst grades in the whole school and he let me know about it. His mustache twitched as he scolded me aggressively. He didn't like my attitude either, and he had seen it time and time again, so I was told. Kids like me grew up to be either deadbeats or died young – he'd seen it all. What he told me that he couldn't figure out, was why was it that I scored like a 12th grader on my ISAT tests, but had 28% on my school math? It irked him and he seemed sure I was on drugs, which he grilled me on. I couldn't of course explain to him that I was at a loss as to why I got such test scores either. My uncanny skill at multiple choice online tests reminds me of what I had read of chicken sexers who grab baby chicks quickly on a conveyor belt, and just seem to know what they gender of the chicklet is without consciously knowing what they are seeing. I hate using that example since I hate the meat industry, but that really is comparable to my test taking abilities in the format they presented me with. I just had that particular game figured out. He thought I was a deliberate fuck up of the worst kind. He then told me that if he could legally kick me out of the school he would have. Real students were dishonored to have to see a face like mine in the hallway with them, when they work so hard for their good grades. He felt that I was a waste of everyone's time and I was better off if I wasn't there anymore making him and my peers look bad before the state. I should feel sick with shame he thought. I calmly took it, and then asked if I was being held back. He said I was not because the school could not afford it. That's all I needed to hear and I was good.

I hated this girl named Amanda in my class. Partially because she had always hit on Kyle, but for other reasons that I no longer remember or agree with, like she had sex a lot or something dumb that an 8th grade girl would judge another 8th grade girl over. She was sort of phony I guess. I don't know really though. She might have been rude to me at some point in time. Anyway, she asked me to sign her yearbook. I didn't get a year book ever because my dad didn't think it was money worth spending, and he also didn't approve of me being invested in social activities in school. In my dad's mine, I would get good grades if I didn't have friends. He was deeply troubled by my friendships. He didn't fight me on this, or prevent me from seeing my friends, but in his mind the problem with people is that they cared too much for one another. I assume this notion was in due to his own repeated failings in friendship, family and romance which the later often caused him to waste large amounts of his money, perhaps mixed with a true confusion on the mystery of why teenage girls are the way they are, mixed with conservative talk radio and the whole Randian concept of 'self reliance'.

Amanda asked me to write something in her yearbook. I took this as an opportunity to let her know what I thought. I wrote in her year book that I hated her and that I hoped that she choked to death on dick. She was in shock, but she was laughing and everyone was. I don't even know if I meant it or not. I was nice to her about what I had written. I just gave it back to her and smiled. I ended up writing strange things in everyone's yearbook kind of like that because they all wanted to know what I would say.

I decided from this to make my own yearbook to satire the real one. I drew quick pictures of everyone in the class. I drew a mishmash of arms and legs, that was supposed to represent the poorly made collages of girls basketball and boy's football that took up pointless pages to convey somehow. And then I had people sign my yearbook in the end. I guess I probably lost that homemade yearbook though. a t some point. I might have given it to Sarah, who lost it – or maybe she does still have it locked away somewhere. In any case, that is the only year book that I ever owned and I was pretty proud of it.

In the keeping of the spirit of feeling free, I was watching a lot of television, which I was told growing up would ruin me and rot my brain. I could do nothing right by anyone's standards I guess. As someone in their twenties now, I can do many of the things that I did as a teenager, no problem. But back then I was chastised by people who were way worse than me. My real crime was being young. To be fair, I am really grateful that I didn't watch television growing up. I think it made me a better person ultimately. And I do imagine that a lot of television isn't good for you. But because I had been so sheltered from technology all my life – chopping wood for fires, having only a radio that I had to use tin foil to get channels, we didn't even get a DVD player till 2006, I actually got a lot out of watching music videos and other shows, even through all the phoniness and empty shallow stuff. I had never been really exposed to all that style and body language that I would see on the screen. It elevated my existence and spoke to that part of me that is always looking for an existence that is condensed and heightened. And given my circumstances, I will argue that having television for that time in my life was more good than bad. I watched all the music videos religiously, and I studied the musicians and message conveyed in each music video. This was a formal education in aesthetics. And at the time, I was starting to really get into pop punk (eh, I know). But even that lame attachment I had to that music that I no longer listen to, grew and changed into means of expression that are worthy of having. Pop punk for me at the time, made me feel like individuality and self expression was really a good thing. It gave me an alternative to the preppy princess look, and all the normal pop music. And at that point in my life, I could relate to the lyrics much better. I could get into elements of a pop song when I was young – but I could never relate to a Christina Aguilera song. I didn't party or date or anything like that. But I could relate to a whiny Simple Plan song about being uncool, unaccepted, and feeling on edge.

My new favoritest of favorite albums – probably my true first favorite album in my collection up to that point since I didn't like my Avril Lavigne album, was the debut All American Rejects album – something I would never in a million years find appealing now – can't stand the vocals mostly, but at the time, the opening song My Paper Heart, accompanied by the Swing Swing song was really something I could not get enough of. As soon as the album was over, I would put it on again. And again. I would listen to it before school and get this strong boost of weird music induced confidence. Which made me feel a whole lot better. Music really saved my life at this time (even though it was terrible music most of it).

I didn't watch that many movies, but I do remember that I really idolized Jennifer Connelly in a movie called Career Opportunities – I believe it was called. I don't even remember much about the movie, only that I thought her character was just stunning – as she is always quite pretty in all her movies. The most notable scene in that movie was where she was riding the quarter taking pony for kids in a very seductive manner, and it might actually be the only real worthwhile part of that movie looking back. I wanted to be just like her. Of course, I never was, and never have been, and never shall be. Some dreams are not meant to come true. Another noteworthy movie - I also watched Girl, Interrupted and really had a lot of feelings for that movie as well.

And I remember one April day, I believe it was Kurt Cobain's death day April 5th, and I was watching one of the music channels, and they were playing Unplugged in New York. I had never really liked Nirvana at that point. My older sister Roxanne used to listen to Nevermind pretty often, but I had always thought he sounded very unhappy, and it kind of bummed me out when I was eight. I didn't understand why anyone would want to yell like that. I was much more interested in The Barbie Girl song in those times. But watching Kurt Cobain sing some of those songs in that memorable live setting, it was the first time I really was seeing something that seemed completely real to me on TV. He seemed more human than other people. I thoroughly enjoyed it and was even brought to tears. Not to mention. I was also astounded at just how gorgeous Kurt Cobain was. After watching that performance, I had this sense of calm in me, like that feeling one gets when they have a meaningful conversation with a close friend after a long separation.

My dad and Jodi finally broke it off. It was a series of events that eventually devolved into a fight and then a lame attempt to fix it. I guess, Jodi decided to move back to her old place, which wasn't getting bought by anyone I guess after all. Jessie hadn't liked the school in Kendrick, and my father and Jodi were fighting all the time. In a sweep of paranoia, my father ended up recording Jodi's phone conversations over the course of a few months. At first, the conversations were positive to people she knew, and then he started hearing her talk to drug dealers and other men. I was staying the night at her house, when my father silently woke me up and said we were leaving. He was shaky and upset. He took a bunch of gifts that he had bought for her, and said they were mine. He told me that Jodi was cheating on him and on meth. Then the next day, he angrily took the things that I didn't even want from me like I had stolen them from Jodi and gave them back to her. The whole thing was a mess. I guess she was getting high on hard drugs. The wedding was off. My dad kept going to her house for a few months off and on due to relationship inertia I suppose, but eventually their two year hell ride was at a close. This made him really crazy, and I took the punishment for his frustration, fears, self loathing and mistrust. But I will tell all about that later.

Symbolically, and because I no longer had any attachment to school, I just skipped the last day of eighth grade. It would have been a piece of cake to just show up, but I didn't. I sat home and played on the computer. My friends came together and found me after school I my house. Ava always came into people's houses by screaming or acting psychotically. It was alarming. She often was clumsy and would knock something over. Which was either entertaining and endearing or really uncalled for and crazy. It was this mixture that made her what she was and made her fun to be around.

Anyway, I did not expect them to come find me so early, but I guess the last day of school ended earlier than I had originally thought. So when Ava crashed through the door unexpectedly, I flew backwards and due to the force of my shock induced backwards momentum, I actually did three somersaults in a row before my body finally stopped. I remember feeling like I was being tossed by a machine. I just flew. I had no control over this entire situation, but it ended up doing me an unexpectedly great favor. My neck had been paining me for a few years. I had troubles bending it at all some days. I could look to my right at all more often than not. When I flew backwards and did those somersaults, it corrected my neck issue and some of my back pain somehow. It could so easily have done more damage, but it didn't. It was wonderful fortune for me. I remember getting up off the ground and my neck didn't hurt anymore. It could have been a religious moment. It was amazing. I was beginning to feel good again.

Sadly, things weren't working out with Pepsi and she was taken away from me. She bit through ropes to go free so often that it was hard for me to really know what to do with her. She still wasn't really potty trained. I had tried to put a leash on her, but since trying to take her for a walk never seemed to work and she always escaped, I had to pretty much control her by constraining her in a way that wasn't fair to her autonomy, and I since I was really bad at this dog thing, I thought I had to punish her every time she pulled the leash. Needless to say – this was horrible for me to do. I wasn't as patient as I should have been. Which made her hate and fear me. I was doing a terrible job.

One day, I was trying to put the leash on her, and she fought back very rough. It was borderline going to end in her attacking me. She didn't bite me, but she growled in a serious fashion, and got away. Had I tried anything else, she was going to nail me. She was done with my bullshit and in a lot of ways I feel like I had tried to control her with force, and I had not taken into account that she was a faultless dog who had no real reason to respect the rules of human beings. Like the people who tried to put restrictions on my thoughts at school and at home, I had unknowingly been trying to do the same thing to poor Pepsi. I felt this shock of realization go through me when she got out of my grasp in the living room, and she gave me this look. It was like mother nature was slapping me in the face. This look said so much. It was probably one of the most intense stare downs I have ever received. In that stare, I could see the misery she had been feeling, the resentment. She didn't trust me and none of this was fair. If I attempted to do something she didn't like, I felt like she was letting me know she would bite me. She was done with me. For the next month, I would try to pet her to get her to be my little puppy again – to try to start again, and she would walk away. She only came to me if I fed her. She hated my guts. I didn't know what to do. And then whenever I wasn't home, I had to tie her up outside so she didn't chew up the house. This made her stir crazy, and after we put her on a metal chain, she behaved very aggressively. She was mad at having to be my dog. She would bark at everyone who passed.

One day, Katie was walking with another girl in her class whom she spoke to occasionally, and they decided to go in the yard. Pepsi was familiar with Katie, so she didn't growl or bark at her, but she didn't know the other girl, Mia, and so she tried to bite Mia, and ended up ripping Mia's pants as Mia tried to get away. Katie did what she thought was right, and she called the police. It was a bit strange to me that none of this was ever talked about with me to have one of my best friends call the police on my dog without talking to me, but perhaps on this Katie knew best.

So after that, my dad decided we had to get rid of Pepsi. I was heartbroken. It made no sense to me that he would buy me something I was supposed to love and cherish and then take it away from me. It was the painful end to a disappointing year for me. I understood that the reasons were valid, and I also understood that I had failed miserably as a pet owner. But it still broke my heart. She was in many ways my baby. And I cried for several weeks straight. My father felt badly. All those nights that year that I had been depressed. I remember I would look down at her calm sleeping dog face, and it was always a comfort to me, perhaps one of the only ones I had. I know I shouldn't have ever put her value in terms of how she made me feel, but it was hard. Despite all the problems, I really did love that dog.

My dad got this guy at work to agree to take her to a ranch he owned, where she would be free to run and be with other dogs. I tried to be happy for her, as I watched three men try to wrestle her down and put her in the back of the pick up. She was confused, angry and scared. She barked and lashed out in vain. They drove off and I never saw her again. For awhile my dad didn't tell me the truth about what happened. She had gotten loose in the back of the truck, and she jumped out on the way to Lewiston. They could not catch her. The only reason my dad told me was that by sheer luck, she had been found – starving but alive several months later towards the end of town. But my dad just assumed she was dead. She was taken in to the same place where we had gotten her from. One day, about a year later after that, my father had been driving down the road when he saw Pepsi being walked by a lady he knew from high school. He pulled over, and called her name, which she looked at him. They had renamed her something that sounded like Pepsi, like Mupsy or something.

I guess she had psychological dog issues, and had to be treated for dog mental illness. She probably picked it up from me. I felt really guilty. But she was in good shape now. She could be walked, and I had never been able to make that happen. I was going to go see her, but by the time my dad finally got around to bringing me to her house – since the lady agreed I could see her – she had been given away to another home. And then, two years later, Katie sees Sarah and I at a table eating and comes up to tell us that she had spotted her. She was owned by a retired truck driver who lived in the woods. And she seemed really happy. At least, Katie seemed to know it was her. I hope that Pepsi had a good life wherever she ended up. If she is still alive today, she would be 17 years old. Which it's possible she would still be alive, but I am guessing probably not.

I only got picked up on the weekend from my mother one time for an eighth month period. Roxanne's money was mostly gone by this point. All the people who had helped her spend that money were gone. She had a desperate look on her face – a need to ride what she had to it's end. She could no longer afford to buy my grandpa Roy's house, so my uncle kicked her out. Everyone moved out and came back to Lewiston. I don't know how that whole thing ended. I had stayed away. On the one weekend where Roxanne and my mother did come to pick us up. Roxanne and my mother were distant in the front seat talking among one another so I could not hear. I found out years later they were planning on getting completely high on meth that weekend – and why they picked us up at all I cannot say. They put us in a cheap hotel that weekend and left. I thought they would be back, but they never showed up. I ended up watching the History Channel for days straight. My mom had left crackers and little debbies and things like that. I stayed up all night, convinced of everything the history channel wants you to be convinced of – that human beings were an alien experiment, absolutely everything that happened in the bible was actually because of a UFO, Jesus was an Alien and so on. I watched hours of History's Mysteries. I was totally freaked. Eventually my dad came and picked us up.

My mom had dumped James by this time. I asked her years later how she did that. They had been together for 5 years and then it had come to an end. She told me that it was at my grandpa's house. He was taking a bath in the Jacuzzi when my mom walked in. Fully clothed, she got into the Jacuzzi with him which alarmed him. She then told him that she wanted to break up with him – that he hadn't gotten a job for the entire time they had been together, didn't practice the music they had planned, and was just free loading and was more like a child than a man and she was sick of him. And that was the end of James.

I've seen him a few times since. Once, about three years ago I was in a supermarket in north Idaho, and I saw him in the aisles. He has not changed a bit. We had never talked before then, so I wasn't about to start then and I switched aisles so as not to be detected. He didn't recognize me anyway though. I look quite a bit different now. And for a while there, I heard he was playing in a band in Spokane with this twelve year old child prodigy and his father. It was mostly like Rush and Dio type music – but then the story goes, he got kicked out of that band for being drunk all the time. They even used some of my mother's lyrics. Sometimes for years, when I heard a motorcycle roll through town, I might look over and see a very very small man with long hair riding on the motorcycle off in the distance. And I know it's James.

It's hard to imagine 90,000 dollars disappearing in less than a year, but that's what happened. So much drugs. My mother ended up overdosing, so I am told. Which scared her, and she cut down the serious partying and became more of a casual barfly. She never did meth again. Roxanne was hooked though. With the last bit of her money, her and Jody rented a trailer in Clarkston and bought a very dumpy looking truck. It was smelly and falling apart. The set up was beyond depressing. If Roxanne didn't have pills or meth she would scream and cry. She never left the house. Her sons were monsters and they would attack you for fun. She got diagnosed with bipolar disorder. The entire apartment was covered in garbage. Her and her kids all lived in this, but she mostly hid in the back room with her drugs. Jody was gone all the time. She kind of chased him away every time he did come into the trailer. He might have been the most responsible for spending her money. It had all come out that he had cheated on Roxanne and had three babies with three other women in the time that he had also had three children with Roxanne. He was just dumb and they could barely tolerate one another.

As for me, I was growing a lot as a person. I was glad that I had gotten over Kyle. And I felt like my brain was rewiring and the world seemed exciting, fresh and new and I believed I was headed for greatness, regardless and against what anyone told me. A lot of my time was actually spent fighting off everyone who wanted to bring me down. I had hit this bottom where it no longer felt that good to feel sorry for myself or be a helpless bystander in my life. As soon as I got over Kyle, I started shedding weight, and my acne permanently cleared up – for the most part. Of course, like many people if you look closely at my skin, you can see marks of acne. After that summer I was going to be going into 9th.

If for any reason you should like to see what i have written thus far..

PART 25 - http://tinyurl.com/y6v6pgoj

PART 24 - http://tinyurl.com/ycak5d8r

PART 23 - http://tinyurl.com/yac6sk3g

PART 22 - http://tinyurl.com/yat6cfnw

PART 21 - http://tinyurl.com/y783egno

PART 20 - http://tinyurl.com/y8jskymt

PART 19 - http://tinyurl.com/rfhbms8

PART 18 - http://tinyurl.com/ycrznrwk

PART 17 - http://tinyurl.com/y77unlng

PART 16 - http://tinyurl.com/yadpsv8c

PART 15 - http://tinyurl.com/yb3lt6k5

PART 14 - http://tinyurl.com/yb4cfedq

PART 13 - http://tinyurl.com/yalanq9s

PART 12 - http://tinyurl.com/yc79mw94

PART 11 - http://tinyurl.com/yc9qhj84

PART 10 - http://tinyurl.com/yb734w24

PART 9 - http://tinyurl.com/yc2t6vfw

PART 8 - http://tinyurl.com/ybl37utq

PART 7 - http://tinyurl.com/ybvo283g

PART 6 - http://tinyurl.com/kbc9dwu

PART 5 - http://tinyurl.com/msnz4am

PART 4 - http://tinyurl.com/k9x8esg

PART 3 - http://tinyurl.com/mwp9atx

PART 2 - http://tinyurl.com/lbt6xq2

PART 1 - http://tinyurl.com/l8xbvg8

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