right. so. i'm taking the angel and i'm wrapping him in a soft blanket and i'm telling him that NO ONE has the right to touch him without his consent.

no matter how well they know each other and got along previously.

or how angsty the person feels about possibly never seeing him again.

or how much Aziraphale might even possibly WANT to be intimate with that person on some level, someday, when they're okay again.

there are no ways around this:

if he's not READY for it, or if he's not in the MOOD for a kiss, then NO ONE SHOULD BE KISSING HIM. PERIOD.

Sniperhaul fanfic

ˡᵐᵃᵒ ᶦ ᶜᵃⁿ'ᵗ ᵇᵉˡᶦᵉᵛᵉ ᵗʰᵃᵗ ᶦ'ᵐ ᵈᵒᶦⁿᵍ ᵗʰᶦˢ

Overhoe finally broke out of Tartarus after a very long time. However, he couldn't have done it without the help of a certain villain mistress. 😏 Who's she and why did she choose to help this terrible (x2) man? Find out bellow.

characters: overhaul (chisaki kai) x sniper lady

word count: 3k

warnings: angst, past memories, handless overhaul, hurt, comfort, gangs, yakuza, just girl taking care of her mans

notes: I'd like to thank the person responsible for proofreading this work bc I'm supposed to keep their identity a secret. 😎 Thank you once again! And of course, the manga and characters belong to Kohei Horikoshi. @meefal you were excited to see the final product so here you go, hope you like it. 🖤

✂-------------------------------------------------------

Overhaul couldn't remember how long he'd been there, he'd lost count weeks ago. The only thing he knew was that he was in "Tartarus", a prison located 5km off the coast of the Mainland. It may function like a conventional prison, but in reality, those who're deemed a severe threat toward the safety of the nation were locked up and monitored closely, regardless of whether their sentence has been decided on yet. The facility was divided into 6 levels, where the potential threat level of criminals was deemed "higher" the further underground you go. It's a prison where, once you enter, there's no chance of leaving.

He sat there in his cell, B10 being the lowest level in solitary confinement. It was too cold for his head to function and too dark for his eyes to see, with the small window above the prison doors being his only source of light. There was also an opening where prisoners received their meals, but considering that he lost his hands, the guards could easily enter without worrying too much for their well-being. They'd leave whatever they offered that day and give him a disgusted look before locking the doors after themselves. He couldn't see his reflection nor touch his face, he probably looked like crap by now. His skin was itching and he felt disoriented from all the germs occupying this space, it's been a while since he's gone out for some fresh air. 

He was practically Quirkless and yet they locked him out in the worst, most dreadful place the isolation block had to offer. He couldn't even feed himself properly, he couldn't do anything by himself whatsoever. But there was only one thing left to him; he spent days and days thinking about pops, Chrono, yakuza and everything he could have if it weren't for those stupid heroes-- no, if it weren't for his plan that so grandiosely failed. It made him feel miserable, desperate even, and with grief soon followed acceptance. It was all his fault, and he needed to live with this burden for the rest of his life. Because of him, pops is still handicapped to the bed somewhere, wherever the heroes might have taken him. 

He stood up and started beating the cell with his leg, curing his frustrations. He didn't know why he was doing it, it was irrational and he's hurting himself unnecessarily, but for some reason it made him feel lighter. At least he could transfer some of his inner pain to the outside world. Other criminals laughed at his patheticness, especially since they knew why the guards were allowed to enter his cell. They shouted that it was impossible to escape, but he wasn't trying to. He knew that it was useless a long time ago. 

Midnight came and all the prisoners mostly fell asleep. Overhaul, however, couldn't sleep a wink. Because of the dark room he spent most of his days in, he lost his sense of time so he was pacing around, deep in thought. He couldn't dream of anything nice anyways. 

"Can't fall asleep either?" a feminine voice could be heard from the other side. Wait. They allowed women here? What could she have possibly done to deserve such punishment? 

He leaned his back on the doors and slid down to the floor, trying to find the right words.

"Yes." he sighed, enthusiasm lacking in his voice "But it's not like I need you to talk about my problems." 

"Hm, whatever. Go beat your head against the bars. Fall unconscious, loser."

The man snorted, which might as well be his first time he ever did that. 

"Well, this certainly sounds effective. It's not like I have anything to lose anyways." 

"Hey." the tone of her voice was earnest, and it aroused further questions in his jumbled up head. 

"What?"

"We're going to get out of here." 

Is she being serious now? "Really? Because as far as I know, we're locked out here for good. We don't even know the severity of our sentences. They can do whatever they want with us."

"Not quite. You know that they're being supervised by 'The Hearts and Mind' party offshoots. They can’t do a thing to us as long as they have their heads to the pikes." 

This might be true, but he didn't believe in anything the government's been telling them lately. It's only a matter of time before they switch their plans and play by their own rules, because stabbing people in the back was the only thing they've ever been good at. 

"How did you end up here?" 

Oh the long-awaited question. She wondered when he'd ask. 

"It's not like I need you to talk about my problems."

He smiled, he liked this vicious side of hers. But he also realized that she could be nice as well because if that wasn't the case, she wouldn't spread promises of the escape. At least that's what he thought. 

"Sorry about that." 

"It's okay. We've all been here for a very long time, now weren't we? We lose our cool and act like total assholes."

"Direct and straight to the point I see." his deadpan voice could be heard from the other side of the bars. 

"'Been raised this way, for the better or worse." it didn't sound like she was bragging, yet it felt like she was just talking about herself, honest and confident, to cover up what she felt was wrong. The incoming topic which she'd rather avoid. 

The villainess didn't want to open up about her past, so she just answered his question. 

"I killed people beyond counting, following AFO's orders. He always wished to become the world's greatest demon lord and thus promised us enormous change in the hero society. So in order to achieve that, he needed his underlings. And that's how I ended up here."

"You were loyal till the end."

"You know what they say; there can be no progress nor achievement without certain sacrifice."

Wise beyond her years and just as sad. He wondered how her face looked like, how the world's been treating her. 

"I had my own sacrifices as well."

"Do you regret them?"

...

"I do." 

Now it was her turn to snort "Really? And I thought that people situated this low couldn't have regrets. You remember what they said about us. 'Beasts in human clothing', 'Simply dreadful beings'." 

He felt insulted, maybe the things she said were true but it's not like he was anything similar to these pigs he shared the same air with, unfortunately.

"I regret hurting the person important to me. The old man who once took me in when I was very young. He was the infamous boss of Shie Hassaikai." 

Something clicked in her, it's such a small world they're living in, "Yakuza? I know you guys. We used to trade with you back in the days."

"Todou Gang?" 

"You said it."

"But... you were a force to be reckoned with. One day you just collapsed and not a single trace could be found. According to certain sources, there was no way anyone could determine the exact cause of your downfall. So what happened?" 

"I killed them all." 

... 

"AFO told me to kill them to prove my loyalty to him and, of course, to make sure that there was no one I could turn to other than himself." 

For some questionable reasons, and he didn't dare to admit that it was empathy he felt towards a random stranger and a former gang member he shared some history with, Overhaul wanted to fill the silence that lingered between them. Perhaps, because he felt guilty for making her reveal more than what she initially intended. 

"I used pops' niece, a 6-year-old girl who had an extraordinary Quirk; it allowed her to rewind a person's body back to a certain state. That means she could put a body back to before it was injured or before the person even developed a Quirk. With that, I wanted to create a Quirk-erasing drug to get rid of the Quirk society altogether and to make sure that yakuza could rise once again. I cut her skin every day to take blood samples and to test her regenerative abilities. However, pops didn't approve of it, so I handicapped him to the bed and planned on waking him up the moment I realized my plan, to make him proud of the achievement. Unfortunately, it didn't play out as I wanted and I never reached him."

The silence followed and the woman wore a disheartening smile on her face. It's not the answer she expected, she didn't ask for another sad story from another messed up person she's met in her life. But the intentions were pure and for her, it was good enough. 

"We both fought for something only to lose it all, huh?" she laughed, but it was prominent in her tone that it was bittersweet. 

"At least you're brought here in one piece." 

"At least you can still revive your parent."

Were they comforting each other? Were they jealous of each other? Were they wallowing in self-pity? They couldn't tell. The only thing they certainly could was the embarrassment they felt from the moment they realized that some of the prisoners were eavesdropping and making fun of their vulnerabilities. See? That's what they hated the most about opening up about themselves; they were worried about their feelings being perceived as a joke. The only way to protect themselves was to rise up the walls and never let anyone get closer, except they didn't regret exchanging a word or two, as long as it was the two of them. 

The next day, 8:34PM Mainland-side entrance, the guardians of 'The Bronze Gate' announced a code red security lockdown. Panic and shouting could be heard from across the hall and the security alarm announced the potential danger. 

"Close any and all passageways on each floor. All workers are to enforce strict measures to maintain order."

"The surveillance system is down! It seems like we've been hit by some sort of EMP attack!"

Static waves were spreading around the metal frames and the prison doors of the isolation block unlocked. Overhaul could hear the commotion outside and the villains leaving their cells in a hurry, but as much as he tried, he couldn't push the heavy doors open.

"3 seconds until we're back online- wait... What the... With the system down we can't monitor the inside!"

"Nice, 3 seconds be damned." he beat the door with his legs, pushed the surface with his shoulders, leaned all of his weight on the godforsaken thing just so it could finally open. Nothing. It seems like he lost a couple of pounds during his stay here. He couldn't believe his eyes, this couldn't be happening to him. After all this time of patient waiting and hoping to meet pops once again, it turns out he'd be the only one still trapped and all because he didn't have any hands. He panicked, he really couldn't decide on what to do next. But then he remembered-

"Go beat your head against the bars, loser."

That's it! This might be his only chance to escape! He didn't have much time left though, he could hear the shooting nearby so he definitely needed to hurry.

"The system won't come back on!! The ones in solitary confinement are breaking out!! Inside!"

"Control unit's on site!! Execute lockdown in the isolation block!"

"Follow procedure! If even one of them steps a foot outside their cell-"

"Fire!! Open fire!!"

Muscular threw whatever he could find in this messed up place back at them, excitement prominent in his big smile "You ain't gonna kill me with those puny toys! So how about you show me the exit already?!" 

Other villains were joining him, still overwhelmed by the sudden freedom they've been given "Dammit... After all that time..."

"Meat..." Moonfish mumbled as he cut his opponents with his blade-like teeth. 

The villain lady joined them in the run, still carefully examining her surroundings in case they were tricked into something, "The system isn't responding to my Quirk. 'Guess Tartarus really is falling." 

As she was running down the corridor, she could hear beating noises coming from one of the doors. It sounded dull so the person must have been using their head. 

"Eh, don't tell me the idiot actually listened to my advice. He must be desperate." 

She came to the doors and turned the circular lock in a hurry. She really didn't want to stay in this place any longer, but she couldn't leave him behind either. It's not like she could use him for anything since he was basically handless and Quirkless so why was she doing it? She didn't have an answer. Maybe it was their talk from the other day, maybe because they were both gang members with a history, maybe because of her regrets and her wish to do something right for once. Or maybe because she was just this kind. Nah, this couldn't be it, she never did anything in her life that didn't require a certain purpose. She cast her heart aside a long time ago and did what was necessary for the accomplishment of the mission. It would be weird if she suddenly started using her heart again, now wouldn't it? She was AFO's personal assassin, there was simply no way. 

He came out of the room with eyes wide in puzzlement. He was finally free and ready to find pops so he could possibly revive him and try to fix things as much as he could.

They looked at each other for the first time. They never said it aloud, godforbid, but they liked the other's eyes. And perhaps the eyes were a window to a person's soul, their broken souls, tormented by the life's temptations. They were still so young, probably in their twenties, and yet they looked older at the same time. Maybe because of the seriousness in their faces, their stronger stance, the way they defied their fate. They were destined to fall apart, no one would argue with it, but circumstances drove them to take action and rise from the bottomless chasm. And now they had each other. 

"We need to get out of here," she stated and pulled him by the sleeve that hung loosely from his shoulder. They escaped Tartarus and raided a small shop near the coast to change clothes and to mingle into the public unnoticed. She quickly picked out a dress and threw herself at work while Overhaul was still standing by the shop display, looking out for the potential intruders.

He couldn't erase the thought of this being some sort of a really weird first date; the girl coming out of the stall and the guy examining her looks. He shook his head, he never had this kind of thoughts in his entire life. He needed to pull himself together. 

The bob-hair came out and adjusted the ammo on her utility belt. He looked at her from the corner and she was stunning; intimidating with a tad bit of femininity in design. He stood there and watched how good it fit her curvy form. The thoughts wandering in his head sounded so wrong, terribly wrong. He needed to bring himself to stop. 

"Oh right, I almost forgot." she took a shirt off the shelf and came to him, showing him the garment in her hands "You need a little help, right?" 

"Sure.'' his voice was small and he stood still while she undid his buttons. Maybe from the outside he looked completely calm, but from the inside he was a complete mess. He looked at her face and wondered if she knew, the kind of effect she's having on him. She raised her head and he looked to the side, there's no way he could look her in the eyes at this point. He hoped she didn't notice. 

"You like this one, don't you?" she asked, filling the awkward silence. 

"Looks don't matter, the most important thing is to change and avoid getting caught." She looked annoyed. Great. He wanted to shove his head though the wall. Wait… Why was he thinking that? 

"I choose the clothes I like. It makes me feel better in my skin."

"You look good in it."

She looked at him surprised and he quickly corrected himself "the dress looks good."

"Sure." she trailed off and put the new shirt over his shoulders. She could feel his muscles tensing. This was probably because of the cool air, she assured herself. 

"Why did you break me out of Tartarus? It's not like I could be of any use to you." 

She buttoned up his shirt and fixed the wrinkled parts on the garment, hand accidentally brushing over the left side of his chest, feeling his heartbeat.

Well... that was a surprise.

"I thought that maybe you could be of some use to the demon lord. Not Quirk-wise, but you may offer a valuable set of information. Something that the demon lord would appreciate greatly." she could feel it slowing down and her heart dropped just as much.

"But also because I... liked you."

He looked at her incredulously and she smiled. She pinched him to bring him out of the trance and he complained. "Don't be awkward, say something."

"I like you too... I, this is my first time I ever said this to anyone. It's weird."

She slapped him gently on the shoulder and he reached to take it but, yea, no hands.

"What the hell?"

"You're the one who's weird. But I guess that I like you this way." she stood on her toes and kissed his cheek "Ew, you should definitely shave though. No doubt about it."

The former yakuza boss swore; he'll never understand women. But for some reason he couldn't deny that he was particularly drawn to this one. He wondered if pops would approve of her.

Late-night Shenanigans

Summary: Hufflepuff and Slytherin are strolling through the quiet halls, the moon shaped like a silver disc as it hangs in the starry sky. It’s midnight, which means that they have all the privacy in the world while the rest of the school sleeps. Romantic, right? Well, yes, but only if you label “scaring Hufflepuff while she’s distracted” as romantic. I won’t blame you if you aren’t surprised by Slytherin’s mischievous nature at this point. Hufflepuff certainly isn’t. In fact, she’s come prepared for payback. Slytherin seems to have forgotten that his girlfriend is just as rebellious as he is, and he shall have to pay a price for that—a very delightful price indeed. 

“Boo!” 

Hufflepuff flinched and spun around in a panic, relaxing once she realized that it was merely her boyfriend fooling around. She let out a sigh of relief mixed with exasperation, fixating an unamused glare on Slytherin as he laughed at her. 

“You’re such a prick,” she huffed. “Why am I not surprised you did that?” Though she tried to maintain the pout on her face, she could not stave off the effects of Slytherin’s infectious smile.  

He shrugged and continued his stroll through the darkened corridor, with Hufflepuff begrudgingly following after him. “I guess you know me too well, darling,” he replied with a smirk. “It was dark and you were distracted. What else was I supposed to do but take that glorious opportunity to scare you? Besides, it was your idea to come out here—in the middle of the night, mind you—and venture around the school while everyone else is asleep.” He stopped walking and cocked his head to the side as he turned to face her. “So if you really think about it, that was technically your fault.” 

Hufflepuff let out an incredulous laugh and shook her head. “You’re the worst.” 

“Yeah,” he said coolly, his eyes narrowed as if he were challenging her. “And what’re you gonna do about it?”

She raised her eyebrows at this, and a smile slowly spread onto her face. It was a teasing grin that said, Oh you *really* shouldn’t have said that. Before Slytherin could say another word, she smacked a glob of whipped cream into his face. It dripped onto his shirt, the milky color of the dessert standing out from the dark green material like black ink on parchment paper. 

Now it was Hufflepuff’s turn to burst out laughing as Slytherin stood there in complete shock with cream covering most of his face. Her laughs echoed through the empty hall as he wiped at his eyes and examined his hands, smearing his thumb over the white substance. 

“What the…” 

“As you said, darling, I know you too well,” she cooed. “That’s why I came prepared for payback.” She held up a see-through bag of substances that was filled with whipped cream. An invisible force shaped the sweet delight into ball-like figures—perfect for pranking someone. 

“Behold George Weasley’s latest invention: Cry o’ cream! In a few minutes, your eyes are gonna start watering—hence the name—so you better wipe that off while you can.” 

She swiped a finger through the cream that was plastered onto his face and put it to her mouth, releasing it with a pop! “But it’s still perfectly edible,” she beamed, her smile widening as she took in his disgruntled expression. 

Too amused and proud of successfully pulling off her prank, Hufflepuff didn’t react fast enough to stop Slytherin from snatching the bag from her hand. He grabbed a ball of cream from within and chucked it at her in a flash. She had dodged with a shriek and began sprinting towards the end of the corridor, with him racing after her. 

And so the chase began.

She ignored Slytherin as he called after her. He said stuff like “Hey, get back here!” and “I just wanna talk!”. She continued running away from him because…well, it was Slytherin she was dealing with. She knew better than to trust his deceitful pleas after pulling a prank on him.    

Slytherin aimed and threw the balls at her whenever he was close enough, but she always managed to escape that tasty fate. At one point, he almost succeeded when one of them hit the exact spot that she had been at a few seconds ago. It splattered all over the wall, and flecks of the cream sprinkled onto her hair—a narrow miss. 

He finally cornered her at a dead end, his eyes lighting up with triumph once he realized that she had nowhere to go, nowhere to escape. 

“Wait!” Hufflepuff backed away as he walked towards her. “Why don’t we call a truce?” 

“I don’t think so,” he replied, venturing closer until her back was pressed against the wall. He reached into the bag for the final attack. To his great dismay, there were no more balls left.   

Her eyes darted from the bag to his disheartened facial expression, and she relaxed. “You don’t even have anymore,” she japed, crossing her arms with a smug smile. “Victory is mine.” 

Slytherin let out a dramatic sigh of defeat. 

“I guess you won this time,” he grumbled. His eyes suddenly lit up, and he smiled at her slyly before placing his arms on either side of her, effectively trapping her. “I think you owe me a kiss for your little stunt.” 

He leaned in with puckered lips, but she avoided the kiss by pressing her hands against his chest. “Hey,” she exclaimed, wrinkling her nose in distaste. “I know what you’re trying to do.” 

Slytherin arched an eyebrow and went poker-faced, acting as if he had no idea what she was talking about. “What’s wrong? Does my breath smell bad or something?”  

“You still have cream on your face and you know it!” 

“Oh really? Is that why my eyes feel like they’re burning right now?” 

Hufflepuff hummed a giggle and bit her lip. “Maybe?” 

“Little minx,” he chided jokingly before he leaned in again, trying to capture her lips with his. She tried to dodge his attempt but he managed to plant a sloppy kiss on her cheek. 

Hufflepuff let out an indignant sound of a squeal mixed in with a laugh. “Get away from me,” she laughed, a wide smile on her face as she playfully tugged at the hairs on the nape of his neck. “You just got cream on my face!” She squirmed in his grasp and tried to slip away from him, but his arms remained securely wrapped around her waist as he showered her with butterfly kisses—or at least tried to. 

After a while, Hufflepuff stopped resisting and welcomed his touch, softening her smile in surrender as she tilted her head up and closed the distance between them. He pulled her closer as their lips moved together like two partners dancing at a ball—smoothly, gracefully, and intimately. 

They pulled apart, both slightly breathless. He regarded her briefly, his gaze hanging on her parted lips. “Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” 

There was a smudge of cream on her nose but she paid it no mind, her face slightly flushed as she peered up at him. “I don’t think you ever tasted as sweet as you do now,” she quipped with a warm smile. 

Slytherin chuckled and wiped at the tip of her nose with his thumb. 

“Maybe you should prank me with whipped cream more often.” 

She hummed, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “You’re gonna regret saying that in the future.” 

The corners of his mouth turned up. He had no doubt about it. Right as he leaned in for another kiss, they heard something—or someone—nearby. 

Hufflepuff drew in a sharp breath and squeezed his arm, looking around in alarm. Slytherin jerked his head in the direction of the hallway, silently beckoning her to follow him as he crept closer to the source of the sound. It seemed to be coming from one of the classrooms close by. 

With the door left ajar, they peeked in and caught a glimpse of an arm slumped on the table at the front of the room. Hufflepuff squinted to get a better look, knitting her brows once she realized who the arm belonged to. “What’s Professor Slughorn still doing here?”

“He probably fell asleep while grading the exams,” Slytherin responded, pointing at the papers scattered across the desk.

“I bet you got a perfect score. You were always the best at Potions.” 

Slytherin frowned. “Were?” 

“Were,” she affirmed with a cheeky grin. “You were the best until you became my tutor, not knowing that you were helping me become the soon-to-be superior, perfect, and downright amazing Potions student that I am today.” She squeezed his cheek affectionately. “But you’re a close second.” 

“Well, I’m still Slughorn’s favorite.” 

“Are not.” 

“Am too,” he retorted with a smirk, knowing that he was getting under her skin when she shot him a dirty look.

When Hufflepuff reached for the collar of his shirt to properly shut him up, she accidentally bumped her elbow against the door. 

Creaaaaaaaaak. 

She pulled away from him in alarm. The door swung open at a slow pace, continuing to make the eerie sound until Slytherin grabbed the knob in a hurry and stopped it from moving any further. 

Her eyes wide, Hufflepuff stood frozen and hoped that Professor Slughorn didn’t wake up from the noise. To her surprise, he remained motionless, light snores parting from his mouth every now and then. “He’s certainly out of it,” she whispered, staring at him in surprise. 

Slytherin furrowed his brows as he took in what Hufflepuff had just said, his interest piquing as he thought about it. Slughorn was out of it. An idea suddenly bloomed in his mind. He turned to her with a gleam in his eye and pulled something out from his pocket. 

“What do you say we partake in some late-night shenanigans,” he asked, a trace of mischief hidden beneath his words. 

Hufflepuff looked at the sharpie in his hand and stifled a laugh. She almost asked him why he had that in the first place but decided against it. It was no surprise that Slytherin always had some sort of prank up his sleeve. Even though it was irritating at times—especially when she was his prime target—she loved him, if not more.  

A wide smile slid across her face as she gazed at him fondly. 

“I’d love nothing more.” 

☾  

BONUS SCENE: 

“Mornin’ Professor,” a student chirped, walking to their desk. 

Professor Slughorn greeted them with a smile before turning his attention to the newspaper that he had been reading. He had gotten up later than usual today but managed to compose himself before the morning classes began. Waking up in the classroom was certainly helpful in being on time. “Good morning, Sterling. How are things with you and your sister Menna?” 

When there was no response, he looked back up. The student was staring at him, jaw-slacked. 

“Whatever is the matter, child?” He put the newspaper down. “Have I gotten her name wrong again?”  

“Uh, no, you got her name right,” they replied, their face still contorted with surprise. “You just…Professor, you have a little something on your face.”   

He frowned and stood up. How strange, he thought as he made way to the nearby cupboard. I didn’t have time to get breakfast, so there shouldn’t be a mess at all. Opening the closet to look at the mirror inside, he was expecting to see ink smudged somewhere. 

What Professor Slughorn did *not* expect to see was a black mustache drawn on his face. 

MASTERLIST(ง ͠° ͟ل͜ ͡°)ง << sometimes links don’t work for some reason; if you can’t see it, just go to my profile. there, you shall find my masterlist, which is the pinned post. 

Let me know if you enjoyed reading this one-shot :) I welcome your thoughts, keysmashes, or a simple “oh my gucci gumdrops'' comment. Let’s not forget those glorious reblogs—I will seriously treasure your existence. 

Author’s note: 

Hello everyone! First things first: To the lovely anon who sent in the request, I hope you are pleased with the outcome of this one-shot. Thank you for the idea, I don’t think I would’ve come up with it on my own. 

Anyways, I’d like to share a scene that I deleted from the story. It’s from the moment when Hufflepuff and Slytherin are standing in front of Professor Slughorn’s door. The sentence before this deleted scene is “She squeezed his cheek affectionately. “But you’re a close second.””. Ok, here it is: 

He let out an exasperated breath. “Y’know, I’m glad I signed up for Slughorn’s tutoring program because that’s when I met you, but you’re making me regret that decision right now.”

Hufflepuff pouted and batted her eyelashes at him. “Oh, how ever will I change your mind,” she pondered, leisurely dragging her fingertips over his chest. 

Shooting her a dark look, he put his hand over hers on his chest and pulled her closer. 

“I have a few ideas...” 

Their lips collided once more, and Hufflepuff accidentally bumped her elbow against the door when she reached up to tangle her fingers into his hair. 

I deleted it because it just didn’t feel right to me. The “tutoring program” bit was redundant. Also, I like what I replaced it with instead. 

Did anyone catch the hidden meaning behind this part: “When Hufflepuff reached for the collar of his shirt to properly shut him up, she accidentally bumped her elbow against the door...She abruptly pulled away from him in alarm.” I’m not sure if I should explain it or not lmao but it’s for anyone who wished to read more PDA or fluff. 

This is what my writing process is like: I write down ideas that I have for the story and basically any dialogue that pops up in my brain. When I actually start writing the fic, I keep the general ideas and finalize them. I do it sentence by sentence. For instance, the original beginning that I wrote down when the ideas were flowing was this:

Sly dude and huff girl sneak out for some shenanigans 

They’re walking through the dark corridor and she turns. Sly? Sly, she whispers harshly, her voice getting louder and more frantic

He scares her and laughs 

Slytherin! You scared me, [insult] . She pouted. Why am i not surprised that you did that? 

Then, during the weekend when I started working on the story, I looked over my ideas and started writing the beginning based on that. It turned into this: 

“Boo!” 

Hufflepuff whirled around and stepped back in a panic, only relaxing once she realized that it was merely her boyfriend fooling around. She let out a sigh of relief mixed with exasperation, fixating an unamused glare on Slytherin as he laughed. 

“You’re such a prick,” she huffed. “Why am I not surprised you did that?”

I’m gonna show you what I put down as the general details for the entire fanfic. I wrote it the day that I got the anon ask. 

Sly dude and huff girl sneak out for some shenanigans 

They’re walking through the dark corridor and she turns. Sly? Sly, she whispers harshly, her voice getting louder and more frantic

He scares her and laughs 

Slytherin! You scared me, [insult] . She pouted. Why am i not surprised that you did that? 

Guess you know me too well, darling. It was dark and you were distracted. What else was i supposed to but scare you? Besides, it was your idea to come out here in the first place, sooo if you think about it, this is technically your fault. 

She glared at him. You’re the worst. 

Yea, he shrugged, a smirk that challenged her. And what’re you gonna do about it

She gave him a sweet smile with a hint of mischievousness before smacking a glob of cream into his face

Now it was her turn to burst out laughing as he stood there, shocked with white cream all over his face. She doubled over laughing as he wiped at his eyes and held out his covered hands, pressing his thumb against the liquid/material/cream to examine it 

What the… 

She stepped closer and swiped a finger through the cream on his cheek and put it to her mouth. Like you said, darling, I know you too well. Thats why i came prepared for payback. And she held up a bag of ball-like figures with white stuff inside from fred and george’s shop, like a trick thing in which its small but u open it and it poofs into a plate of cream . “George Weasley’s latest invention. Cry o’ cream” or some nice name. 

She was too proud of her prank to stop him from snatching the bag from her hand and chucking one at her. She ducked and shrieked, and began running away. He chased her and kept throwing it but missed bc she was quick. She passed a wall and he threw it and it splattered to the spot right next to her head and some got in her hair. He cornered her in a wall and she looked at him and frantically said, wait, stop! i call truce!

He reached into the bag but it was empty. She relaxed. You dont even have any more, she chortled, crossing her arms. Victory is mine, she smirked, staring at him as he walked closer. 

He let out a dramatic sigh. I guess you won this time, he grumbled. Suddenly his eyes lit up and he smiled at her slyly. I think you owe me a kiss for your little stunt. He leaned in with puckered lips

Hey, she laughed and avoided, putting her hands on his chest. i know what youre trying to do

What’s wrong? Does my breath smell bad or something? 

You still have stuff on your face and you know it! 

She avoided his lips but he managed to plant a sloppy kiss on her cheek. She let out an indignant sound like a squeal mixed with a laugh. get away from me, she exclaimed, a wide smile on her face as she leaned away from him but he had effectively trapped her in

As they continued play-fighting-- with him trying to kiss her and her pushing him away-- they heard soft snoring from somewhere nearby and looked into a room  

Professor [name] was still in their classroom

What are they still doing there, she whispered

Probably grading the exams, he responded, pointing at the papers on the desk

She leaned in closer and accidentally nudged the door, and it made a very loud creak. It kept pushing back slowly and the creak continued. 

Creaaaaak 

She winced but sly acted quickly leaned over and grabbed the door to stop it from moving 

She stood there, frozen with her hand over her mouth. 

However, to both of their surprise, professor didnt react. They kept on sleeping 

An idea bloomed in his head and he looked at her with a devilish gleam in his eye as he brought out something from his pocket. What do you say we partake in some late-night shenanigans, he whispered, holding up a sharpie.  

Her eyes darted from his face to the pen in his hand. She smiled at him. 

I’d love nothing more. 

-

Bonus scene??????? 

Mornin’ professor, a student chirped. 

Professor scratched his head and smiled at them lazily, reaching for their notes on the desk. Morning, [last name] 

The student suddenly stared at them, jaw-slacked. 

What is it, child? 

Uh… you have something on your face.

The professor frowned and opened a nearby cupboard to check the door. 

There was a moustache drawn on his face.

As you can see, my original plan for the middle part of the story where Slytherin is trying to kiss Hufflepuff was to make Huff resist against him in a joking manner. When I start writing, I flesh out the story and make some improvements. Personally, I prefer the fluffy bit in which they actually do kiss, because it was cute! 

Also, I have a meme (it isn’t related to the story): 

“Hi everyone, the next fanfic that I am posting will be chapter 4 of the slytherpuff series!” 

“I’M POSTING A ONE-SHOT TOMORROW.” 

Yes, yes, I know. Jessica breaks a promise once again :( I am sorry to the people who were looking forward to reading chapter 4 as soon as possible. During my free time, I thought about writing it, but I held back because I wanted to work on part 2 of “Cheater”, given the fact that it is half-finished. I did not want to start a whole new story when I already had one that is kinda-almost-halfway finished, one that many of you are anticipating to read. Then again, I literally just wrote a whole new one-shot instead of working on part 2...someone please get me the clown suit, I need to wear it. 

I actually did work on part 2 too, I just finished this one-shot first because I was excited to write it. I actually do have a valid reason for writing this one-shot instead of continuing to write part 2. The time I take to write chapters for the slytherpuff series is about 6 days if I work on it non-stop. The time I take to write mini-series “chapters” depends on the mini-series itself. For “Mine”, it will definitely be long, so it is taking some time to finish. For one-shots, it takes about a day or two. That’s the main reason I decided to work on this story instead of working on other stuff—it is more likely that I will suffer from writer’s block when I’m working on the mini-series and the main series. One-shots are quick and easy. This leads us to the topic of the next paragraph...   

It is likely that I have attached negative emotions to the slytherpuff series, which explains why I am hesitating to get started on chapter 4. Everyone, prepare yourselves, it’s gonna get a tad bit sad. When I was working on chapter 3 during the summer, I faced a period of writer’s block in which I was very depressed because I read a murder case that was triggering and I went down a spiral. The case made me believe that the world was corrupt, and I became so very numb and literally just stared out the window for five hours straight while the google doc for chapter 3 was open on my screen. That was a terrible experience, and now, I think I’m anxious of working on any chapters relating to the slytherpuff series because I’m afraid of being sucked into that headspace again. Going back to what I was saying in the previous paragraph, I don’t want to get writer’s block while writing chapter 4 because it will remind me of what happened over the summer. I’m scared that I’ll go back to staring out the window while the google doc for chapter 4 sits on my screen. The good thing is that I’m not depressed and in the same mental state as I was before, so hopefully that won’t happen. It takes a long time to write the chapters because they’re lengthy. I hesitated to write chapter 4 because I only want to do it when I have a big burst of motivation and energy and excitement to get started in it. That way, I’ll be able to work on it for a week straight, which is difficult since I have school. That explains why it was kind of easy to write the slytherpuff series beforehand because that was in the summer and I had a lot of time to write. Nevertheless, that doesn’t mean that I can’t write the story during the weekends. Maybe the cure is to keep working on the chapters despite this fear so that I will come to realize that all is well and the slytherpuff series is not cursed—and yes, the traumatized part of me does think it’s a liiiitle cursed. 

Similar to “people who got into car accidents and became scared of driving, but overtime, they started driving again and slowly got over their fear,” I will try to do the same. 

I am not sure what fic I will work on next. I do have one in mind but I am not gonna say anything, because I feel as though I jinx myself when I tell others about what I am working on. For instance, when I told everyone that I would be posting The Queen and the Dragon for Thanksgiving, I ended up not doing that. I will try to refrain from sharing what I am working on until I am 100% sure that it is ready to be posted. That way, I won’t lift anyone’s hopes up of reading another fic and then immediately squashing it down by saying that there is a delay. As you are probably well aware of, I break promises sometimes without meaning to—and I feel very bad for it! I am not the type of person who’s like “haha yes omg I break promises and what about it? I’m just built different.” I kept asking people what I should do in this situation and saying stuff like, “Should I work on chapter 4 or part 2 or the one-shot? I really wanna work on the one-shot but I made a promise that chapter 4 would be the next thing I posted.” They gave the good advice of, “THIS IS YOUR BLOG DUDE DO WHAT YOU WANT!” I am still having some trouble with my problem of wanting to make people happy and putting others before myself. I guess I had a small victory for myself in the sense that I decided to write this instead of writing chapter 4, which I didn’t want to do. 

Anyways, have a fantabulous day! I’ll see you all again when I write another fanfic. Who knows what I will post next?

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Loser Like Me - Intern!Nolan Sorrento x Reader (Ready Player One)

GIF Credit: X @crawlingmist @mandy23b  @wltz-bby @happyskywhale​ #MendoTagSquad

Babe you’re platinum all the way

Author’s Note: Before we even begin - Mini Series for sure!  Also I’ve never seen anyone do this before me, so here we are!

I know by now if you’ve been following this blog for any length of time you know how much I love this man. With my heart and soul. However - there’s a particular scene in the movie I just... really don’t like. It’s the Intern scene. I won’t go into a whole lot of detail, but it hits me deep on a personal level, and I hate that it’s played for laughs. I thought it needed some ‘rectifying’! And came up with this little series. 😊 I really hope you enjoy taking this journey with Nolan, as much as you have my others!

Disclaimer: RPO characters/storyline not mine / whilst following what they did with him in the movie, some of this will be influenced by Lacero (because of course it will!)

I wanted to write a quick note about his age! I headcanon every Mendo that does not have a canon age as the same age Ben was when the movie was shot. So... For RPO that’s about 46/47. Making Nolan 47 in 2045. The intern scene takes place in 2025. Making Nolan, as stated in the fic, 27.

Premise: Nolan Sorrento has a head full of dreams that he’s sure will be actioned by the OASIS creators any day now. But fetching coffee is all anyone at Gregarious Games thinks Nolan is good at. Lucky for him, you see things a little differently...

Words: 6397

Warnings: In general - people being douches to Interns. / swearing

_____

Yeah, you may think that I'm a zero But hey, everyone you wanna be Probably started off like me You may say that I'm a freak show But hey, give it just a little time I bet you're gonna change your mind

All of the dirt you've been throwin' my way It ain't so hard to take, that's right 'Cause I know one day you'll be screaming my name And I'll just look away, that's right

Push me up against the locker And hey, all I do is shake it off I'll get you back when I'm your boss I'm not thinkin' 'bout you haters 'Cause, hey, I could be a superstar I'll see you when you wash my car

Just go ahead and hate on me and run your mouth So everyone can hear Hit me with the worst you've got and knock me down Baby, I don't care Keep it up and soon enough you'll figure out You wanna be, You wanna be A loser like me

---

The alarm went off at 6:40am. As it did every day – but Nolan Sorrento was already half way ready, and had to skid out of the bathroom to snap it off, before any of his neighbours complained again. Sometimes he just couldn’t sleep – and he felt it probably wiser to just get up and get on. Sorrento’s head was full of ideas, ideas that he knew would help him make it big someday. Hopefully right here where he worked, at Gregarious Games… once he got a job that wasn’t an internship, that was. And - when he wasn’t fetching coffee, or running papers, or trying to book meeting rooms and call other people that worked around the company as requested by those higher up - Nolan would sit with his notebook and plot out what his future would look like, and the tech he would use to get there, whether it be available right now, just within reach, or something that one day he’d be at the forefront of making. He dreamed, because right now that was all he could do. Nolan had a job and that was enough to be thankful for, he had his life… which was more than could be said for some people. Sweeping back into the bathroom he studied himself in the mirror for a moment with a small sigh. He liked to give himself a daily pep-talk, because there wasn’t anyone else that was going to do that for him either. ‘Okay, Nolan, you got this. For real this time – they’ll ask you to fetch coffee and then you can walk in and be like… Guys! Your OASIS project – what about if you did this-!? How can they not love it? Maybe they’ll bump you to tech? Maybe they’ll make you a partner!’ It hadn’t worked out for him so far, but he could dream – maybe today was the day! He gave himself a firm nod, running his hand through his thick dark blonde hair to neaten it (at least the highlights were going to look good once he got into proper lighting!) and then dashed from the bathroom again; throwing a suit jacket on – that didn’t match his outfit but was good enough – he looped his pass around his neck, grabbed his keys and his satchel before heading out of the door. No time for breakfast, he’d think about that later! First things first; getting into the office. It was still nerve wreaking for him to walk up to that office with coffee; it used to give him shakes just thinking about maybe getting the coffee order wrong, but now he knew he had that down. Nolan knew that Gregarious Games was on the verge of something not just great, but phenomenal. People all around the company treated it’s two founders like Gods, and Nolan knew exactly why – he was doing the same. They were creating the seemingly impossible; giving people an escape from the hell that everyone was living. The longer he was here, the more Nolan gained confidence – Morrow at least knew his name now, and he was also privy to the fact that not everyone got to interact with these two as much as he did. It came to the point where he actually liked being asked to fetch coffee for them, because he’d get to try out a new idea. “-What about this-?” “Maybe later, Nolan, thanks for the coffee…” “But I really think the OASIS could just use-” “Thanks, Nolan. Really, but it’s a busy time.” “Well maybe-” “Nolan…” Then he had to walk from the room with a deep breath and try not to get so disheartened. No matter, there would always be tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that… on into infinity. But Sorrento smiled gently, one day he’d come up with something that would be so mind-blowing they would have to listen to him! And he was getting close, he was sure of it. With that thought, he jogged back down the stairs, confidence sky high. “Oh-! Nolan-!” He turned to the voice calling him, “Yes?” “Could you come help me with something… I’m not exactly sure what I’ve done wrong on this presentation… I just can’t fix it…” “Sure-!” “OH. And, whilst you’re at it, would you mind picking up my printing? Thanks, Nolan!” He blinked several times watching them walk away passed the printer, and then sighed again – well, he still had a ways to go yet…

Nolan was aware that there were people in this company who didn’t like him, that thought he was strange. The pop culture he consumed was obscure at best, or... not obscure enough at worst. Nolan liked the modern stuff, the early millennium. The remnants of Y2K... where everyone lost their heads thinking computers and clocks would all stop working. Apparently, that wasn’t highly valued, and everyone thought that the 80s was where it was at. Nolan wasn’t sure of that himself, and thought maybe most of them were just posturing because that was the era that Halliday and Morrow were obsessed with. It made sense; they’d grown up in that time. Nolan was just far more nostalgic for things he’d grown up with - than a time he didn’t even really know.

Other people he figured didn’t like him for other reasons, but he’d never quite got the opportunity to find out what those were. Only that it felt a lot like being shoved up against a high school locker again. And he was 27. There were a couple in particular that liked to get physical; only this time they decided to do it when he was carrying two full cups of coffee. “Whoops-” “Shit! Sorry-!” As if he sounded anywhere near it. “It’s okay though right, that’s your job, you can just make more.” If he wasn’t already on a time limit, “And clear that up whilst you’re at it.” “What do you get a full employee badge for making coffee anyway?” “Oh no-! You read that wrong mate, it’s just an intern one.” “Ah-! Not permanent then? Coffee can’t be that good-!” “Less permanent now-!!!” Nolan bit his lips together, because he knew what would happen if he retaliated, these two were full time employees that (probably) had way more important jobs than he did. He knew which one of them was more likely to be walked out of the door after a confrontation, and he needed this.

“Do you two assholes want to leave him the fuck alone-!?” They all turned, to an impatient looking woman standing with her arms crossed. And this would be a moment that, although he didn’t know it yet, would go down in history in Nolan Sorrento’s life. For this was the moment he met you. You could not have been glaring at them both harder - and felt that for the man stuck in the middle, it was pretty fortunate that you walked by. “Y-Y/N-!” “Don’t give me that, why don’t you go bother someone else-!?” “But he-!” “Is trying to get coffee from point A to point B, I didn’t realise Gregarious games hired children these days that would be such a hindrance. Why don’t you get back to your desks and do your jobs-!?” They didn’t dare argue with you – skulking off, although muttering profusely. And Nolan was nearly speechless, but also realised there was coffee all over the floor: “Ah-! Ahhh-! Shoot-!” “No, no, no...!!” You moved towards him, hands gently pushing him back to standing; “I got this, you go make them again...!” “No, no, I can’t leave you to-” “Nolan, it’s okay... I got this...”  He stopped suddenly; now he would know if he’d seen you before. He would. Nolan was good with things like that. He opened his mouth, but you ushered him back towards the kitchen; “I’ll help in a moment, just let me do this!”

Sorrento didn’t know what else to do but wait for you in the kitchen, by now he probably could have gone outside and got a coffee order, but in you walked, throwing away whatever you’d used to tidy up the spillage. “Good thing I like the smell of coffee...” You wiped your hands and turned to him, with a gentle smile; “Sorry about those guys. They’re self-entitled assholes who shouldn’t have the jobs that they do. Alas, I am not a hiring manager... are you alright?” “Oh, it’s nothing I can’t handle.” You nodded, “I can see that.” “F-forgive me, Y/N...” that is what they’d called you, “but...” “Oh; I’ve heard all about you - Nolan Sorrento. And your ideas!” He looked away for a moment, aware that he was blushing, “But also that you make one hell of a cup of coffee...” that just made him blush harder. “You also do a little bit of work in my department, so I’ve seen you around. I could use a mind like yours, y’know? Maybe I’ll have to get you in for experience...” You nodded to the half-made coffee; “I’ll help, if you teach me how the boys upstairs like it.” “Oh... y-yeah sure...” Nolan moved aside as you crossed the kitchen, “What’s your department?” “Technology. So, they do all the ideas and spec and testing, and my team codes it. We also run all diagnostics on errors, though the less we see of those the better!” “Your team-!?” “I like manage like 2 people, it’s nothing.” But Nolan was staring at you like all his wildest dreams had come true. “...Wow. That’s... that’s incredible-!” “If I could get the right people in my team, it’d be more so...” You eyed him curiously, “And somehow you’re only an intern?” “I’ll take what I can get.” You giggled “Until one of the big plans comes off?” “Yeah I guess...” That faint shade of pink was back “I admire that.” “What?” “The confidence to tell Halliday and Morrow your thoughts. The imagination it takes to have ideas like that. It’s cutting edge stuff, Nolan. I couldn’t do that - I am more... the girl who executes the idea. And turns your dream into a virtual reality... but I don’t have such a knack for original content.” You gave him another sweet smile that had him turning quickly back to the coffee; “Now why don’t you teach me how to do this - and I’ll explain why it’s a little late.” “Y-yeah... lets... do that!” ***

Overall Nolan was pretty harmless, he kept himself to himself and did every task that was asked of him. You made a point of finding him to say hello, and chat to him for a few minutes every time you passed his desk. And you noticed that when you approached him he always looked quiet and subdued, but by the time you moved on he was joyful and animated and it always hurt you to have to move on. Still the smile on his face didn’t fade after that. He was full of endless enthusiasm, and more importantly than that – something you felt Gregarious aught to be paying attention to – he was hungry, if work didn’t come to him he’d seek it out, Nolan certainly wasn’t afraid of doing that. Every so often he’d be walking by with someone and you’d catch a snippet of another great idea that filled his head – but more often than not was met with “That’s great, Nolan, but…” You were amazed to see this didn’t deter him; sure he’d look disappointed, but he didn’t give up. Sorrento’s attitude and personality intrigued you, and one afternoon when he was leaving for another coffee run, you made a point of walking with him. That soon became habit, as did joining him for lunch. It didn’t win you a lot of friends, and more often than not you’d be asked ‘What the hell are you thinking!?’ ‘Yeah, Y/N! You actually have talent!’ ‘Nolan Sorrento is never gonna amount to anything. He’s pushing 30 and all he does is make coffee.’ You didn’t understand why, or how, anyone in this office could pick on him. And why everyone just let them get away with it. Your defence of him was ruthless. “He’s a fucking INTERN, not a coffee boy – oh my god! It’s about time someone actually taught him something about the business. Nolan’s got a head full of ideas and if no one else is gonna utilize him, I fucking will – because it only takes one job ad or someone to recognise what he has and he’ll be off to IOI!” “They can have him.” “You know what, screw all of you! When Nolan’s running this place and you’re all begging for jobs, I hope to God he remembers what you did to him.”

Nolan was wasted here. But you didn’t want him to be wasted here; he was at times a little too unconventional for your game makers, given his little corner of pop culture (not that he’d opened up to you a lot about that, but occasionally you got a glimpse of it by what he referenced and laughed at), or a little too ‘business’ for your co-founders - monetization was practically a curse word… Yet Nolan had a mix of talent that barely anyone else in this company did, and no one was giving him a chance to use it. Worse still to you – an Intern, who should be learning everything the business has to offer and be given every opportunity to get stuck into it, was doing not a lot more than fetching and filing paperwork. And sure, you were younger than him, but you wanted to take this into your own hands.

“Hey!” A smile was already present on his face before he looked up; “Hey!” “You busy today?” You folded your arms on top of his desk divider; Nolan looked a little shifty; suspicious of you for a minute. “I mean, I got plenty to be getting on with…” You gave a disappointed sigh; “Aw, see I really needed your help with something.” “…Really!?” He wasn’t about to hide that shock – Nolan hadn’t done anything directly tech related for your department before, and that was your exact remit. “Yeah, but if you-” “No, no!” He stood, “I’d love to help, that’s what I’m here for, right?” You couldn’t help yourself, and giggled, “Did you just become un-busy?” “…Yeah. Yes, I think so.” Nolan placed his hands in his pockets with a grin, and waited for you to tell him what to do; “Awesome, let me show you around tech central!” You beckoned him to walk with you, “And for the record, no, I was pretty sure intern meant you were also here to learn, and I’ll be damned if I don’t teach you something. How’s your coding?” “Not a strong suit.” “What did you study?” “Uh… Business and economics… just touching on computing as a minor… why?” You turned back to him very nearly shocked; “At College!?” “Uhm. Yes?” He’s a College grad and we have him paper pushing, my God, no one is ever hearing the end of this! But you just nodded, “What’s the dream Nolan?” He became bashful, looking away from your face for a moment, as if he didn’t dream – or as if every dream he’d been working for was suddenly stupid; “Uh. I…” “C’mon, everyone has one…” You touched his arm delicately, “Hand on heart, ten years from now, when you’re close to 40, where do you wanna be?” Sorrento looked a little affronted by your close to 40 remark but held his tongue; “Uh. I guess, I’d like to be in charge of a company like this one.” “Good man, right answer.” You swept him into another room – a neat row of 5 desks on one side, and one on the other – no barriers between you – the single desk was covered with paperwork; in the centre a flashing image, highlighting what various coding pieces were about to address in game. You indicated for him to sit at a desk in the row of five, and joined him. “And you?” “None of my dreams are really to do with work…” You shook your head, “I mean, sure I’d like a couple of promotions but I’m kinda okay where I am – as long as I still love what I’m doing. I’d just like to help people, you know? And the OASIS might help people… So,” you breathed, “I’d like to make people happy, and I don’t know how measurable that is, but I think I’d feel pretty good in ten years’ time if I managed that!” Nolan watched you for a second, and your gentle smile, and wondered if you’d even realised that for him at least you’d already completed that goal. Maybe he’d keep that back, for now – but he knew that in ten years’ time he wanted to look back on this moment with you and say “I was your first! You might not know, but it was me!” *** You set him a series of tasks and challenges and, as you did so, explained his way through them, who they were for and the effect that doing them would have on the business or the OASIS itself. Your team kept to themselves but you’d let them do that for now, the group was a little insular and he was an outsider right now, they’d warm to him; you worked with nice guys – not like the assholes who behaved like grade schoolers. Every so often, performing your own tasks, you would ping Nolan a calendar invite. “…What’s that?” He would ask you, and you would tell him “Oh! That’s a meeting with the Head of Marketing… Finance… Engineering… PR and Communications… HR…”, the list was endless – but if you had to create an intern program for him for yourself, you damn well would. You were a little more social and a little more pushy, so you knew you could get him working in all the teams and on projects that actually meant something – starting with your own, then he’d have something to show for it. All he needed was a little boost and a shot to his confidence and Nolan would be away; it was already obvious that he believed in his ideas enough – now you wanted to give him the knowledge to back it all up, and finally let him use what he already knew.

 By the end of the first day Nolan was a little worried that he hadn’t finished all the tasks you had set, and as your team packed up and left for the night, he looked nervous. “Nolan, you okay?” “…I mean I… I still have a few things to do- I-I’ll finish them, I guess I might just be a little late.” You sighed; “Nolan, you’re an intern, honey – you don’t get paid overtime, just finish them tomorrow – It’s fine.” “…T…Tomorrow.” He swivelled his chair to you but didn’t dare look hopeful, “You want me back?” “Yes, of course I want you back, I told you I need you right now! With all that’s going on so close to launch we’re getting stretched pretty thin, and what better place for you to get stuck in than the midst of all this! I mean you’re getting coffee for ‘em, might as well get your line of code in the finished product too, right?” You stood, slipping your jacket on, “That desk is empty, by the way. I don’t really like the idea of you sitting alone out there…” Blush dusted his cheeks again, “You sure they won’t mind?” You scoffed; “Nolan, by the end of the first week they won’t even notice you didn’t sit there before today! Now come on! Go home!” You were right of course, and by day three your team of two were saying good morning to him, and asking how his evening had been. It took Nolan a little while to answer, because he just wasn’t used to it. By the end of the first week it was ’We’re just heading out for coffee, would either of you like anything-!?’ which you liked, because yes, someone should be asking him which coffee he wanted instead of him fetching it. And by the end of week two you were all sitting together at lunch, and when everyone took a five-minute break, Nolan got to participate in office banter and shit talking. “Guys! May I remind you that our office doesn’t have a door-!” “Oh come on, Y/N! You out of all of us are the one most likely to go off on these idiots!” Nolan turned to you, “You do have a tendency to come back from meetings, throw your notebook down and proceed to tell us how much you hate everyone.” “OHHH!!” The other two started howling with laugher, “OH! He’s got ya, Y/N!” “First off I hate all of you! Second, I also hate that you’re all right-!��� But you liked this, and you already knew it was doing wonders for him. Sure, from time to time people would swing by and ask if they could take him off you for a second, and he did still do the infamous coffee run; but you let him go at his own discretion. What you were happy to see, was that his old desk started clearing, and Nolan’s files and notes, and everything he’d had on it managed to find its way into your little side room. That’s when coffee started appearing on your desk every morning. Nolan was always in before you, and had clearly expertly memorised your coffee order. At first you thought it was a simple and sweet one off, but it kept happening. Upon telling him he really didn’t have to do it for you, Nolan would smile and say; “Oh! It’s really the least I can do. After all, look at all you’ve already done for me…” Still, you became grateful to see the cups, and as you sat contentedly with them before you started the day you always noticed him beaming out of the corner of your eye; you only liked to pretend you didn’t. About three weeks into Nolan’s stint with you, the project you had him working on was nearing completion, and your intern was fretting about if you’d have him move. “Nolan, you don’t need to panic – you can still sit with us, there’ll still be plenty for you to do here. Besides like I say, once we finish this everyone is going to want to work with you anyway – and seen as you’ve had most of the introductions, there will be things from them to work on – so you can get your holistic business overview!” He’d been through most of the meetings that you’d set up – and as you suspected, some of them weren’t even aware there was an intern to give any work to, leaving the program entirely in your hands. Your boss didn’t seem to mind too much, and it wasn’t interfering with what you were doing otherwise. Eventually you just let Nolan get on with the meetings himself, and given his background all you seemed to gain from it was positive feedback. ‘He’s great!’ ‘I know. But tell him that!’ You thought he was ready for his big break; and breaks didn’t come much bigger than this one; “Hey, Nolan, you’re on first name basis’ with Halliday and Morrow right?” He raised an eyebrow curiously, “Yeah, I guess.” “I got a feeling you know this project pretty damn well by now.” The two in the corner turned to give positive affirmation to this statement. “Uh huh?” He tipped his head, intrigued as to where this might be going – although the looks on their faces told you they already knew; “How’d you like to help me present it to them next week?” ***

If this was the chance that he had been waiting for, then it was huge. Nolan didn’t show it, not on his face, nor in his stance. He was two steps ahead of you on the presentation but he always asked if what he’d done was okay, and everything you told him to add or take out he considered very carefully. “You didn’t have to do this all yourself, you know.” “I just wanted to take pressure off the team. I dunno, if one person works on it, I guess it also looks a little more polished.” You let him have that, and what he created in the end was one of the best presentations you’d ever seen. Using space effectively, but also very minimalist. “Slides don’t matter so long as you explain them, that’s the backing. You’re the draw.” “Someone paid attention in class-!” He beamed at your recognition, “Yeah. I did.” So it was no surprise to you that he presented well. Except Nolan didn’t just present well, he presented to Halliday and Morrow like a professional – and at every moment you got, you allowed yourself to simply be in awe of him. Where was this man when everyone else was being a total jerk? The different between Nolan now commanding the room, and the soft-spoken intern who liked to float his ideas around desperately when given even the smallest margin of opportunity was staggering – they were poles apart and even his smile was confident. If this was a technique Sorrento had perfected, he was damn good at it – but part of you wanted to steal a little of that confidence and inject it into his personality. The presentation ended, and you both took questions; the more technical they became the further you were in your element, and you got to close out by yourself. It would have all been perfect, had someone not thrown in a comment about Nolan finally talking about someone elses ideas. You decided to let it go just this once, because you probably couldn’t have been prouder of him. Nolan had done much the same to you as you had been doing to him when it was your turn to do the talking – and with all your focus elsewhere he couldn’t help but stare at you. He could do it for an elongated period of time when he was standing here; with the type of smile on his face that he assumed you only saw in really sappy old movies. At first he thought it was just nerves, you were kind and sweet and friendly and for the first time since Nolan had started he felt really included in Gregarious. That was before you dragged him into your team, and he knew that from this project alone – and the way you continually alluded to his work even through this presentation – that you were getting him all the exposure he would need. But it wasn’t just a nervous disposition, it wasn’t just because you saw him and what he was capable of, but you made him smile. Really smile. And that smile was on his face from the minute he set about getting ready for work, to late at night as he was falling into bed. Even just looking at you now Nolan consciously realised how much he did think about you – how much more you made him enjoy work. You’d done so much for him and he realised he wasn’t even sure the right way to go about thanking you. Still, Nolan wasn’t so sure he just wanted to thank you. Would you even be interested in being anything more than friends with him? – that just came with the risk of losing you completely. And for a second that hurt, because Nolan couldn’t. He couldn’t risk it. Not even when he felt this strongly; saying anything jeopardised his happiness. Right now, he couldn’t afford that. Even if you said ‘just friends’ - surely things could never be the same… It made his question answering a little distracted, but then, even you seemed a little unfocused until you got into your stride; then his smile came back, and Nolan got to watch you do what you did best. *** You left the room and immediately punched the air “YES! YES! NOLAN! YOU DID IT!!!” You shook his arm, “Oh my god-! You were so good!” You were elated; not only had he been particularly commended on his effort, but several people in the room had already asked if he could help them in their areas. Nolan accepted them all, of course, because he knew as well as you did that once he had all the tools and proved himself, those ideas in his head were one step closer to being a reality. And then maybe Halliday and Morrow would finally put them to use in the OASIS. One step at a time Nolan – he breathed – you made it this far but you have a little while to go. Your dreams have to wait a little longer, but… she gets it, finally someone gets it! Nolan laughed nervously, “Yeah it… it was pretty great-! It felt good, for sure. And you were impeccable, I need to brush up on my technicalities.” “You’ll get there. But you-! Where did that come from? How do you even present like that!? You gotta teach me, I’m not a natural presenter at all.” Nolan wasn’t one for letting you compliment him without continuously fielding them back. You both had to compromise and take credit here-! “WHAT-!? No, no, you present really well… I just… I dunno I guess I kinda find standing up there and throwing a project out to a waiting world kinda… easy.” You couldn’t help but agree with him, thinking on it for a moment, maybe that’s why he was known so much for ideas around here. For the way Nolan would always pitch them; even though his personality would make him out to be a quiet wallflower who did as he was told. Your team were waiting for you when you got back, and seeing you both joking together made them look at one another with knowing smiles. They wondered if you even realised it yourselves yet. You’d been oblivious before, they’d seen it – but Nolan was positively swooning. Yet, you were giving off vibes like you were interested. They’d grabbed a spare packet of confetti from the last time one of the team had a birthday, and as you both entered the room laughing they were staring you down. “I feel like we don’t need to ask, but how did the presentation go-!?” “Well, really… REALLY well!” Nolan flashed a grin, causing them to give each other the same knowing look before laughing themselves and throwing confetti everywhere. “Congratulations-! We knew it!!” For a minute he looked at a loss and you were laughing, quickly explaining the significance of throwing confetti whenever anyone did a good job – although you also had black confetti tucked somewhere for a slightly more ironic version of the celebration. It just made things in the team a little more fun. “OH.” He said, as if he immediately understood and ‘of course how could it be anything else? Teams always do this!’ - but Nolan did smile. “I guess it’s back to it now, right?” “OH NO!” Sorrento also noted your team had their coats on, “You don’t think you’re getting away with just confetti – do ya Nolan-!? It’s celebration time-! We’re going to the BAR!” “Oh?” He wanted to say the bar wasn’t really him, that he was a one drink and go kinda guy, and that really he ought to be saving any money he made and not drinking it… But you were pulling your jacket on too and that made him torn. Again they turned to each other, and they almost wanted to lock the both of you in here until you figured it out yourselves, so they did the next best thing. “Well, you two come when you’re ready.” “Guys, it’s gonna take us like five seconds…” You scanned your emails quickly, but as nothing was urgent opted to sign off. “No, no! Take your time!” “Besides, you know how crowded it gets down at Campari’s, Y/N, we’ll get a table!” “First rounds on me!” You shook your head after them, and turned back to Nolan, tentatively pulling on his coat. “You know, you don’t have to come.” “No- I- It’s for us right, I feel like I should.” “Nolan, it’s alright, really – I’m not the greatest drinker, I’ll have one and head home. Okay, maybe I’ll get a round, it’s my team but… honestly, if bars aren’t your scene.” Nolan shook his head vigorously, blonde hair flying for a moment, meaning he had to scrape it back off his face, slight blush maintained; “No. I want to come. Maybe we can leave together and just have one, right?” “That’s good with me.” You smiled, “But trust me, you do not have to stay.” By the time you got outside they were long gone, and you debated for a moment calling a taxi, before you decided it was better to just walk it and use the exercise. “Man-! I forgot something-!” Nolan turned to you as you suddenly stood stock still on the pavement, “Do you wanna go back?” “No.” You shook your head turning to him, “I forgot to tell you something.” His face immediately turned puzzled, and he straightened before leaning slightly away from you; “What?” You took a deep breath, before beaming, “How proud I am of you. And what you’ve achieved. That I’m just… lucky to have a friend like you… really lucky. We’re pretty like-minded, but different enough for it to work. And I really like being with you Nolan, it makes me happy. I’m probably the happiest I’ve been in a long time and… relaxed and… wow… oh my god…” Your smile faded slowly and your eyes widened, you weren’t looking at his face, or in fact anything at all and you could forget about talking. All you’d succeeded in doing was confusing him; his heart did nothing but sink at the word friend, and for a minute Nolan decided he would have to accept defeat… But suddenly you were talking like him – like the way he felt about you – and it was pouring, until you stopped. Why had you stopped when there was so much more to say? Or Nolan hoped there was – but then did he dare even hope-!? He didn’t hold his breath. You pulled your eyes back to him, and suddenly everything made sense. EVERYTHING made sense, and maybe you were trying to repress it, or you didn’t want to see what you thought you saw. Perhaps you just thought it’d be inappropriate considering, and you didn’t want people thinking you were helping him because of your feelings – but because Nolan Sorrento was worth helping. Now you were standing on a street in the middle of Columbus, Ohio, staring at each other and one thing was clear to you; Nolan projected his feelings. But Nolan wasn’t acting on them. No matter.

You stepped forward, minimal gap though there was between you - because of the way you walked together, shoulders almost always brushing - closing instantly as you pulled him into you. Pushing up on your toes your lips touched his. Nolan froze – he wasn’t even sure of the way he should react. Well – in his head he knew plenty, hold you, pull you closer, kiss you back at the very least!, but his brain would not compute the actions to the rest of his body; he was shocked. Because this was really happening. Nolan could count the number of girlfriends he’d had on one hand, one finger even and it’d never been serious. He also didn’t need both hands to count the number of kisses he’d received – and if he was honest, how many of those were real? How many of them were dares the other party never really wanted to be involved with in the first place? Sorrento didn’t want to dwell on that, and closed his eyes, but if he didn’t do something you would let him go and all too soon. That thought compelled him to wind his arms around you. His kiss back was tentative, as he made sure that was okay to do, but you didn’t pull away from him – encouraged Nolan held you a little tighter. His stomach was full of butterflies and when he thought on it later, all his dreaming didn’t even come close to this feeling – more nervous and more confident than he’d ever been in his entire life. Part of him wanted to go back to his apartment, slam the door and scream in joy (perhaps not, though, that’d only have the neighbours threatening him again) – maybe he could just do that in his head. But right now, Nolan was holding you, and that was all that really mattered. You let each other go gently, both a little breathless, both a little blushy, and both with no idea what to say next. “N… Nolan?” “Yeah?” “I…” “I know…” but his voice pitched, “Me too.” You giggled, finally stealing a look back to his face; “But I meant it.” He nodded, blush rising, “I-I know that too. You said… everything I’ve… wanted to say.” You nodded along, and both of you laughed as conversation became silence once more. Nolan took a deep breath; “Let’s… uh… they, they’re probably waiting for us.” “Yeah. Yeah, good shout!” But as you continued to walk, this time Nolan held his hand out for yours, and felt elated as you took it, entwining your fingers with his. He knew he would have to take this one step at a time – but his confidence was suddenly sky high, and Nolan felt about ready to take on the world. You watched him walk for a moment, how he even seemed to hold himself better – strides giving him the look of a man on a mission. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched Nolan Sorrento literally change in front of your eyes. You’d been in relationships before, and although that wasn’t what this was yet, you knew that you were in for a wild ride no matter where it headed. But one thing was for sure, you were going to give him the adorably sweet picture-perfect romance that he deserved.

--- Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed! 😊💜

The cafe

MENTIONS OF ABUSE AND RAPE

After three failed serious relationships, love just seemed silly and meaningless. You were almost certain you’d never find true love. It was you that was the problem, the reason the relationships never worked out. You were too clingy, fell in love too fast, spoke too much and never did enough for your supposably other half. At least that was the last thing said in arguments before the men you loved walked out of your life. All those things were true and you had come to terms with it, taking it on board with every relationship you got into, but it still always ended and was still because of you. You decided to prioritize work over love after Hunter left, he broke it off because you’re ‘a lazy ass who doesn’t make any money and relies on the people you sleep with to pay the bills’. With a stable job and a good income, this was the one sentence you didn’t believe said about you, but it still made you work even harder. You had two jobs to keep you busy. A primary school teacher three days a week and a café manager, but inly worked on sight for two days.

-May 23rd 2019-

It was Thursday today which meant working at the café. You got there around 4:30AM to prepare all the sweets, but you didn’t officially open until 6AM. You were in the middle of making a cinnamon scroll when you heard the bells jingle at the front door indicating someone had walked in. You looked over your shoulder at the clock that read 5:17AM and sighed. You finished off putting the second round of scrolls in the oven and walked to the counter with the first freshly cooked ones. There was a tall man standing near the end of the café looking over some of the books, then picking one up and flipping through the pages after reading the blurb.

“Good morning sir, can I help you?” You asked softly, not to startle him.

“Oh sorry, good morning” He smiled turning around to face you, his pupils dilating at the sight of you standing there in your apron with icing sugar all over your face. “Um-“He starts but then cutting himself off with his thoughts, suddenly forgetting why he walked in.

“We aren’t open yet, but if you’re on the go I can make you a quick something?” You offered, kindly letting him know you’re not open.

“Oh I’m sorry I didn’t realise you weren’t open, I just saw the lights on and assumed” He put the book back on the shelf and walked towards you.

“That’s alright, can I get you something?”

“Um, if it’s not out of your way, could I just have a black coffee?”

You smiled up at him and put it into the cash register then walked to the side to make the coffee.

“What brings you walking around at 5 in the morning?”

You make conversation with this man for what feels like hours, but was really half an hour until opening time and you had to get busy.

“Oh before you leave sir-“

“Harry” He puts his hand out for you to shake

“Harry, would you like a freshly made cinnamon scroll for your travels? Made by me of course” You say already getting it ready without giving him time to say no.

“Would love one” He says getting out his wallet

“On the house Harry, for keeping me company this morning”

“Then keep this as a tip, for the friendly service” He says sliding the 10 dollar tip over the counter towards you.

“Oh, no Harry, take it back please”

“Come on, I insist” You hesitate but take the money and exchange a small smile, before he leaves the café. When you hear the bells ring to indicate his left, you bring the money out of your apron pocket and put it in the tip jar.

It was a pretty normal day at the café. You’ve been working at the café pretty much since you started university 6 years ago, you were a trusted employee, which lead to the owner resigning and asking you to become manager. It was around 7PM when you peeked outside the window to see the pouring rain hitting the side walk. You lived a short distance from the café, so you walked. Now regretting your decision to leave your rain coat at home. You grabbed the last two scrolls and jelly slices to take with you on your wet walk home. As you closed the doors, you saw a familiar figure standing at the window of your café, but looking at the book section.

“Harry?”

“Hey- uh… I didn’t get your name earlier, sorry”

“Y/N” you smile. The majority of the day, this man standing in front of you consumed your thoughts. Something about him was so chronic. By the way he looked, he should be a dick, a heart breaker, but he wasn’t. Well he didn’t seem like it.

“y/n” he repeated smiling at himself. “Closing up?”

“Yup” you say holding up the bag to show that you were packed up.

You spoke back and forth for a while until your phone buzzed which reminded you of the time. “I should get going now, before the rain gets even worse”

You both looked around at the weather. “You’re walking home?”

“I didn’t realise this morning when I left it would be raining and I like to walk before a long day at work”

“Let me give you a lift” He stated more than asked.

“Thank you Harry, but I couldn’t ask you to do that, not after your tip this morning”

“The tip you put into the tip jar and didn’t keep for yourself?”

You looked at the ground not being able to hold in the smile. He was watching you, even after he left. You let out a small laugh, making Harry chuckle, something so small that you did was contagious to him.

“Let me take you home” He say once again stepping closer to you so you can be shielded underneath his umbrella as the wind picked up and pushed the rain in your direction.

You gave him a look saying ‘are you sure’, to which he replied with a smile and a nod. Moments later you were getting into his car, giving him your address, then last minute inviting him in to say thank you and for another sweet you made this morning.

 May 24th 2019

It was a late night of small conversation over desert and wine between you and Harry. The late night an alcohol opened you both up about your lives. Not too much, but enough to lose sleep over thinking about him. He left just after midnight, promising he’d come bright and early the next morning for his black coffee and cinnamon scroll.

He held up to his promise, coming nearly at the exact same time, 5:31AM.

“Good morning y/n, how’d you sleep?” He asked walking through the doors, pulling of his grey beanie.

“Good thanks” You replied already getting his black coffee ready.

Much to Harry’s dismay, he didn’t get much sleep last night. He could blame it on the alcohol and say that’s why you were on his mind for hours until his useless alarm went off. But, the alcohol wasn’t to blame because it’s not the first time his mind only held you. He wanted to ask you out. To show you a good time. A good time with him.

“What are your plans for tonight?” he asks shaky at first, but finishing strong

You thought for a moment. “Uh- no plans tonight”

“Would you like to make plans with me tonight? I could use the company” he asks hopefully

As soon as the words hit your ears, butterflies explored your stomach, almost making your legs weak. You cursed yourself for feeling this way, even after promising yourself you wouldn’t fall again. Oh, how you wanted to say no, how you wished he wasn’t so damn resistible to make you say “Sure”.

“How does the bar sound? The one down the street?”

 7:30PM

Your floor was a mess after throwing unapproved dresses on the floor. Again scolding yourself for putting this much effort into looking good for someone, who you don’t want to look good for. Finally you came upon the perfect dress in your closet. It was a basic, tight black dress that reached your mid-thigh with sleeves that wrapped around your forearm. You tied up the string covering your exposed breast. You grabbed your clutch, put on your black heals and sat on the couch waiting for Harry to knock on your door.

Just as you were getting lost in your thoughts, you heard the knock you’ve been waiting for. Checked your appearance in the mirror once more before unlocking the door to the gorgeous Harry Styles. He looked unlike you’ve ever seen him before. You wanted to stare, to run your fingertips over his partly exposed chest and trace over his butterfly tattoo. It took more than mental and physical strength to stop yourself from doing just that. You brought your eyes to the floor, too embarrassed by your vibrant red cheeks to meet his eyes. Harry using your lack of eye contact to his advantage to look at you. He didn’t want to take his eyes off you.

“You look really nice Harry”

“Y/N- you- uh, you look gorgeous!”

You internally roll your eyes, just as your blush was disappearing, he makes it come back up.

You meet with his eyes as he holds out his hand for you to hold.

It was a comfortable silence on the way there. Both of you stealing unknown glances at each other’s complexion.

You arrived at the club and headed straight to the bar, to buy your first drinks. It two shots and 15 minutes until you let your hair down and had fun. You danced the night away with Harry. Swaying chest on chest to the beat and singing to your favourite songs. You felt happy with Harry, dancing with him here, right now, you’ve never felt safer with anyone before. It scared you, but the alcohol in your system plucked the emotion from your mind for your sober mind to deal with. The drinks were catching up with your bladder, so you left Harry’s side for the first time tonight so you could relieve the throbbing feeling. You fix yourself up and go to head back to Harry when you felt someone’s eyes on you that had a different vibe to Harry’s. You mindfully twist your head over your shoulder, only to see your most recent ex- boyfriend, Hunter. You agreed that Hunter was your worst boyfriend. Taking your self- doubt and insecurities to his own advantages. Cheating on you, then making you the victim. Said the most disheartening comments on your appearance and personality. You sucked in a breath when you met his gaze, thinking back to the physical and mental abuse he caused you the last time you met. You quickly turned your gaze back to where harry was. He was sitting in the booth at the back waiting for you to come back. You quicken your pace before a hand grasped your elbow pulling you to a halt. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. You were praying Harry would look over and see what was happening. You knew what Hunter was like when he had a few drinks in him too well.

“Hunter, let go of me” You state sternly. In your relationship, you’ve never spoken to him in that tone or even defended yourself like you are now.

“Well, hi to you to honey” ‘Honey’ a name he called you, in which only brought back graphic images into your head. You looked around back at Harry frantically trying to see if he noticed, to your concern, his still invested In his beer.

“Hunter, let me go” You almost yell, looking him dead in the eye.

“What makes you think you can talk like that to me” He pulls you in closer, close enough you can smell every drink that’s gone past his Tounge. “HUH” he yells. You flinch, trying to pull away your arm as well as covering the fear your eyes hold. Come on Harry. You think.

Hunter starts pulling you towards the front of the bar. His grip so tight on your wrist you can ear your bones clicking, like when you crack your knuckles.

You yell repeatedly, for him to release you. Given up on trying to hide your fear. You look back over your shoulder, no longer in view of Harry.

Hunter pushes your body up against a wall, were intoxicated people are In a heavy make-out session. He starts to untie the strings around your breast, the only thing other than your too tight bra keeping them from spilling. His other hand slowly rising up your leg from your knee to your crouch. He push at his chest, screaming for help, but it’s the silent part of the club. For all the terrible things Hunter has done to you, you’ve always gotten away from him before his threatened to go this far. You unfortunately knew how his routine worked. He’d hurt you, sometimes mentally, sometimes physically. You’d get away after cleaning up the shattered glass from his beer bottles or thrown objects that missed you by inches. You’d ‘fall asleep’ shortly after him making sure he can’t hurt you when his passed out. The next morning, it’s like nothing ever happened. This was how he fooled you: claimed “I don’t remember doing that shit, sorry Honey, it won’t happen again” kissing your cheek, then isolating himself in the garage where his beer cans were stored.

His now kneading your breast he got free from your bra, still pushing and playing with the bottom material of your dress. You’ve given up on yelling, its no use. You felt this was the end of your life. as dramatic as that sounds, you didn’t think any therapy could fix the damage he would cause to you, if he slides his dick in.

Just as he was sliding your panties to the left you felt he suddenly, forcefully being pushed away to the right. You opened your eyes for the first time since being shoved up that wall. Its Harry. You almost didn’t recognise at first, but you met with his eyes. You felt yourself let out a breath as he held you. You slid yourself off the wall onto the floor where Harry was now kneeling to comfort you.

Two security guards where handling Hunter, but you didn’t care, you didn’t want to have one last look at him for his last time of freedom. He yelled words of hate as he was getting pushed out of the club and into a police car. That’s when you let it out. All the tears you forcefully held in, came pooling out onto Harry’s exposed chest. Everything felt dark around you, like finally after all the torture, you broke. Harry rubbed reassuring circles on your back, whispering sweet words of comfort in your ears. That safe feeling that Harry had brought to you had vanished.

After continuously apologising for what this night could have gone to, harry finally offered to take you home. The whole way home, Harry held you. Wheatear it was your hand or your body, he never let you out of his touch. He held your hand and put his arm around your waist as he led you up to the front door of your apartment. He grabbed the keys out of your clutch he was holding and unlocked the door to a chilly breeze. For the first time in almost 2 hours (what felt like longer), his touch had left your skin. Usually his warmness would linger on your skin, this time it felt it wasn’t even there. It could be the cool in your home or the processing, but it wasn’t warm anymore.

Harry knew when he looked at your emotionless face that this wasn’t a rare thing for you that the man who hurt you tonight, has hurt you before. Harry was known for his heart healing, but he wasn’t sure if he could heal this heart. He gently rushed back to your side on the couch and you instantly rested your head on his lap. You were exhausted from all the crying and mental convincing that you deserved this. You fell asleep almost as soon as his fingers raked through your hair. Harry wasn’t going to be leaving your side for as long as you needed him to.

The internal battle of forced monotony: Week 13, Spain

The negative emotions associated with isolation have reared their ugly heads this week. Amid tales of homemade ramen, torrential rain and a new film we’re working on, this post also reflects on the less positive moods that lockdown has gifted us.

Life feels more surreal as each week passes. The end of our sixth week in lockdown also marks a quarter of a year since we set off from England in our freshly converted campervan. When I frame it like that, our overland adventure to date both stretches back into eternity and only feels like a couple of days ago. Little did we know that ‘life on the road’ would entail confinement indoors and restrictions on all kinds of activities, like going to a cafe, seeing friends, making videos and driving through Europe.

There’s certainly something deep within me that is inherently optimistic. Even though if I was realistic about it, I knew that the ‘State of Alarm’ here in Spain would likely extend beyond the date of 26th April (which had already been extended twice), I had sort of psyched myself up towards regaining some of our freedom on that date. So when one morning this week, I flicked my phone onto the website for EL Pais (a major Spanish newspaper) and Pedro Sánchez had announced he was set to ask congress for another extension until the 9th May, my heart sank.

If there’s one thing I’ve wanted this weekly blog to be, it’s authentic. I’ve wanted to use it as a record of where I’ve been - not only geographically, but emotionally, and that means reflecting on the lows as well as the highs.

It’s hard putting into words the feeling of being so helpless in your own life - the feeling I’m experiencing now in lockdown. I guess one way that this helplessness has taken effect is in my increased empathy and consideration for people who live much larger parts of their lives facing uncertainty and helplessness - whether that be living under an unstable dictatorship, drought and famine, civil war or poverty. It’s not that I’ve only just started caring about these people, but in experiencing a fraction of the emotions that they must be going through, my sympathy deepens into something much more.

I’m so used to being in control. I trust that I will wake up tomorrow and night will turn to day; that I will put my keys in the ignition and the van will start; that I will be safe from persecution and oppression and that I will be able to access food and water. Even the element of my life which is the most uncertain as we undertake this overland adventure, which is money, is usually tempered by the knowledge that George and I have the skills and resources to find work, even if it has to be something we don’t particularly like. And yet now, life has thrown us a curveball. Coronavirus has left us spinning out of control.

Not feeling in control of my life has sapped my motivation. I still manage to get out of bed, and get various things done for our film channel Broaden or just general life admin, and I still eat well and exercise where possible. But things have lost their shiny glow, and I lose the energy to focus on a task for long.

It’s not like every waking moment I’ve spent has been devoid of positive energy. Back at the start of the week we ventured out to the supermarket on foot which was a welcome change of scene, I sat out in the sun and bleached my hair with lemon juice, and George learnt to eat crisps in a handstand. We laugh, we have fun and we create little activities like this to pass the time. But somehow, even investing in positivity like this can be tiring. You spend one day trying really hard to be grateful for what you’ve got in this time of crisis, and focus on celebrating the silver linings of copious free time, only to wake up the next day with your energy reserves run dry. Is anyone feeling this too? I know I’m not alone. 

(images, left to right) Bleaching my hair with lemon juice, filming snippets for our upcoming ‘Place Portraits’ video and learning to eat crisps in a handstand.

Meanwhile, frontline workers continue to fight for us all. To save our lives.

The juxtaposition of the chilling images we see on the news about Covid-19 against the confines of the little cottage we’re currently staying in is bizarre. Each day I read new statistics about people dying, articles about PPE shortages and quotes from global health authorities telling us the worst is yet to come.The boredom and helplessness I’m feeling shrink in comparison to the intensity of this global pandemic. My emotions seem petty and mundane, perhaps even pathetic. And yet, something tells me these emotions are still legitimate. That all of our emotions are legitimate, as we each attempt to process the situation and what it could mean for the future.

The future is no longer a thing which feels predictable. We have stepped over the cliff edge, and as each day that the pandemic unfolds, we are in new territory. Of course, one of the opportunities presented by such an enormous global event is the chance to reassess how we live on this planet, redefining the new ‘normal’. 

I have always been interested in the study of the future, and using different approaches to imagine how it may play out. And yet whilst there are opportunities amid the crisis, right now, I’m terrified by what I see. Yes, there are clues and behaviour changes that we can use to project future scenarios, but most of what is in front of us is completely unknown. We don’t know how long we have to work from home, furlough our staff, keep our children educated and occupied indoors or talk to loved ones through a screen. We don’t know what horrors tomorrow’s headlines will bring.

It feels like the world is staring into a dark abyss, reaching out for something to hold onto.

From a selfish perspective, not having any control over the future is a huge spanner in the works. Driving across Europe in a van and working as freelance videographers is the least ‘essential activity’ there could be, and we are conscious that governments have much more to focus on than two British travellers running out of money and desperate to continue their adventure. But it’s still so disheartening to be at the whim of something, something bigger and greater than you, particularly in light of the arduous year we spent preparing for this trip. There have certainly been a few tears here this week, and waves of the same emotions I felt when building the van and knowing there was a chance we would have to give up.

The weather really hasn’t helped lift the mood either. This region of Spain faced endless days of torrential rain this week which rendered the garden inundated and the road flooded. We couldn’t even get out to the supermarket and even worse, a leak developed in the roof of our van! It all felt rather doom and gloom.

(images, left to right) Torrential rain turned the road into a river, the point where we had to reverse all the way back home and couldn’t get to the supermarket, and a neighbouring lane which is closed off by Police.

One of the other realisations that brought me crashing down this week was sussing out that we’ll still be in lockdown for George’s thirtieth birthday. He’s not even someone who cares much for birthdays, but it had always been such an important milestone in my head and I was really looking forward to doing something nice together - going to a restaurant or watching live music or mooching around a city. Hilariously, back when we left Sydney we made a plan with our friends to have a reunion for George’s 30th… in Goa, India! It’s actually quite amusing to see how monumentally wrong we were in predicting the future, as we are thousands of miles off India right now.

All that said, George has been a cornerstone. Not just to comfort me about his birthday, but to be there through this all. We sort of balance one another out, ready with a positive mindset and hug when the other one is feeling super low.

If there’s one thing life in lockdown has strengthened, it’s our relationship.

On a lighter note, George embarked on a grand mission to make the best homemade ramen on Sunday. It all started with the broth, inspired by a zany French chef he follows on YouTube, and by mid-morning the cottage was filled with the smell of this incredible broth combining vegetable peelings with burnt garlic, ginger, miso paste and soy. What started as a broth-making test unfolded across the day, and saw him make handmade noodles, a sticky garlic and sesame sauce, soy soaked eggs and grilled tomatoes. Needless to say, watching George’s ramen odyssey was definitely the most entertainment I had all day!

(images, left to right) George’s homemade noodles (as food stocks were running low), the finished ramen, and the delicious oily and fatty broth in progress.

The two of us have also been working on a new video that will be released on the Broaden YouTube this Saturday (25th April). It’s a far cry from ‘The Hundred Miler’, but hopefully will be well-received nonetheless. It’s called ‘Place Portraits’, and we filmed it back in Paris, in the first week on the road back when temperatures lingered around zero degrees. Whilst we haven’t been as excited about making videos as we usually would be, I continue to be grateful to have a creative focus amid the pandemic, and being stuck inside is forcing me to get inventive with ideas for upcoming projects.

I also love seeing things that people have baked, sung, written, built and performed across the world each day online. The internet can be an incredible place.

As I write this, I reflect on a rocky week battling the internal voices and contradictory emotions of lockdown.

It’s a strangely tiring combination: of not knowing what the future looks like and trying to make sense of a world devoid of human contact or normal routines. Each day, let alone this whole week, has been filled with so many highs and lows that by the evening, I’m left feeling exhausted and churned up inside. 

But we made it. We made it another week in lockdown and I’m so glad I have this blog as a place to reflect. I hope it’s also a place where my honesty (and in this week’s post, my negativity) makes you not feel so alone in your emotions.

As if she knew I needed her right now, Mother Nature has finally blessed us with glorious sunshine and I can already feel my mood lifting. Perhaps the pain associated with this period is also signifying something else: growth. As we face this together, and all of the ugly emotions that come along with it, we learn more about ourselves and human nature, and in doing so, we grow. 

p.s. apologies if this week’s post was all doom and gloom! If it was, may I redirect you to last week’s ‘photo essay’ as a soothing antidote.

About that NDRV3 couples in distress fill, could I request them finding out why they were kidnapped? I'm just kinda curious. (Could be as dark or petty as you want)

I decided to do a good mixbetween petty and dark, I hope you like it! This Request is referencing aprevious imagine I’ve done, found HERE! | Some Sexual Themes in Korekiyo’s part!

V3Boys & Fem!S/O Finding Out Why They’re In a Couples in Distress Situation!

Saihara Shuichi

As Saihara flailed against the gags and did everything in hispower to fight back against the handcuffs, his mind went into an overdrive andwas racing with thoughts of how they would escape.

He’s seen situations like this while working as a Detective, andhe knows how they end… it’s usually not very good. 

However, Saihara also knows that the perpetrator normally has amotivating factor that drove them to commit such a heinous act - it isn’tusually random.

His eyes were darting around the room, desperately trying to finda way out of your situation. Even if they took his life, he just wanted them tospare you.

The tall person who broke into your home and abducted you strolledback into the small room, twirling a loaded weapon around in their fingersnonchalantly. Your boyfriend didn’t give up his fight, even after they returnedwith the sinister look on their face.

Leaning forward, he pulls the gag out of Saihara’s mouth andSaihara let out a loud, ear piercing scream. Not long afterwards, they pressedthe gun against his chest and cocked it back.

This caused him to shut his mouth immediately, the air gettingtrapped in his throat. A sick smile formed on their lips as they chuckled athis reaction, as if it were amusing.

Having a gun against your lover’s chest was a sight you couldn’tstand, causing the tears to flow even harder. You screamed against the gagplaced in your mouth, fearing that you would be next.

But… no, their eyes were locked on Saihara. And that’s when theyfinally spoke. “I bet you’re wondering why you’re here… and I bet youdon’t remember me, either… right, Shuichi?”

The sound of his own name caused Saihara’s face to flush. He knewthat they had to have a personal vendetta against him! As they continued, youfelt your heart sink. “I escaped from prison, and you’re the one who locked me up!” Youcould hear the hatred in their voice.

Whoever this was, they were out for revenge, and you knew theywould get it no matter what the cost. You could see the fear in Saihara’s eyesas they spoke and he realized just how bleak your situation was, after all.

Ouma Kokichi

While waiting for any sign of help to arrive, Ouma continuedthrashing against his binds. You’ve never seen him this scared in his life,although you couldn’t get a good view of his face since you were currently tied backto back.

Eventually, your intruder got tired of his childlike tantrum andsnapped. They’ve already kicked Ouma around and left some pretty sizablebruises and marks all over his smaller body. 

But, as stubborn as he is, your boyfriend just won’t give up thefight. They were tired of his behavior and untied you, shoving Ouma to theground and resting one foot on his chest. “What the fuck is it Kokichi?”

You saw your boyfriend raise a brow and they hovered over him,removing his gag and getting in his face. He looked genuinely shocked, notexpecting them to know who he was.

“You know my name?” He asks innocently, a tiny grin forming onyour lips. Your heart sank because you knew that this was no time for fun andgames, and you hoped that Ouma had enough sense to know that this isn’t thetime or place to joke around with whoever this person is.

“You don’t remember me?!” They sounded angry, and all Ouma coulddo was shrug his shoulders. This caused him to receive a pretty devastatingblow to his chin, blood trickling out his nose afterwards. You wished that hewould just give it up and drop his smart-ass attitude for once.

You had the sinking feeling that this person was somehow relatedto DICE but didn’t say anything since you didn’t want to alarm Ouma; but itappears as though your suspicions were correct.

“I used to work for DICE until I realized how much of afucked up person you were, Kokichi, and I want to put a stop to you.” 

He didn’t seem impressed and instead pestered them byasking, “Oh, yeah? And how do you plan to do that?” You whined againstyour gag, signalling for him to drop it. 

They finally pulled down the mask and revealed their face, and aspark seemed to dance across Ouma’s face as he finally made the connectionbetween their face and voice. You’ve never seen this person in your life, but your boyfriend clearly knew who they were.

And they rambled on about how terrible DICE was and how the worlddidn’t need ‘scum’ like Ouma. It hurt to hear them talk about him like that, but he clearly wasn’t fazed.

Help had to arrive soon, didn’t it? It just… had to. That’s whatyou told yourself at least, but things were starting to look even more grim astime passed.

Rantaro Amami

All you wanted to do was enjoy your peaceful day together, and younever expected something like this would ever happen. You were good people sowhy would someone have a vendetta against you?

Rantaro tried smooth-talking his way out of it, but your captorwasn’t paying any attention. People generally can’t resist Rantaro’s charm sothis was a bit of a shock, but he wasn’t disheartened.

The more he spoke, the more agitated they seemed. You eventuallytried to gesture with your body for him to cut it out, but he didn’t seem tonotice. “I’m not sure what you want with us… but we’re good people,please just let us go. We won’t tell anyone.” He hums with a soft, reassuringsmile.

Eventually, your stubborn intruder got tired of Rantaro trying tofinesse his way out of the situation. “Shut up! You know exactly why I’m here!”

But a look of confusion danced across your boyfriend’s face and heshook his head, insisting that he had no idea what they were talking about.You, too, were confused but weren’t nearly as direct as he was.

“You stole my wallet and my keys, and I want them back! I trackedyour car, don’t try to tell me that wasn’t you!” They seemed visibly upset now,frantic and panicky. It was becoming increasingly apparent that this persondidn’t want to break-in and hold you hostage at all, they just sounded desperate.

“No… that wasn’t us, this is a misunderstanding and you have thewrong people. We’ve been home all day.” Rantaro says calmly, which istrue. “Today is one of the only off-days we’ve had and we wanted to spendit in a peaceful way, we’re still in our pajamas!” He adds, his eyes fallingdown to his loose, warm pants.

A confused look flashed across their face, almost as if theydidn’t believe him. Although they tried to insist that he was lying, Rantaroallowed them to go through your belongings to look for their ‘missing’items.

Needless to say, they untied your restraints and apologized afterthey came up short, begging you not to press charges. As they exited the housein a hurry, you heard them mutter something about “Finding the rightpeople and making them pay.”

With an uncomfortable feeling in your stomach, you picked up yourcell-phone after brushing yourself off and let out a sigh of relief, butyou could tell that that person was pretty unstable and worried that they wouldhurt someone. “I’m going to call the police before they get the chance to dothat.” Rantaro nods as he collapses on the bed from exhaustion, “Good idea.”

Kiibo

Everything started to feel rather grim. As much as Kiibo fought against your captor’s restraints, nothingworked. No matter what he said or did, they gave him the cold shoulder andstarted to give you both the silent treatment.

Their silence only disturbed you and made you fear that they woulddo something awful, and soon. Kiibo seemed to be on the same wavelength. You were gagged and separated, so all you could do was look at one another, but you could tell he was feeling burned out.

Suddenly, your captor reentered the room and started to approach you specifically. Your mind started racing and you feared the absolute worst, as Kiibo flailed against his binds.

This seem to startle the intruder, who cautiously turned to observe Kiibo with wide eyes.

Then, they leaned forward and got in your face, but instead of sayingsomething hurtful or malicious, they surprised you. “Why are you with him?Do you need help?” They asked as they began untying your restraints and removed the gag so you could speak. To your surprise, they sounded genuine and concerned.

This completely caught you off-guard and caused you to furrow youreyebrows. “Excuse me?” You had absolutely no idea what they could be talking about.

“I mean… he’s dangerous, isn’t he?” That’s when you started to put the pieces together, and knowing that they weren’t talking loudly enough for Kiibo to hear, you gave them a stern look. “You’re joking.”

No, they were being completely serious and started rambling on about how he must have been designed with evil intentions, and that Robots like that are soon going to ‘take over the world.’

“He’s not a killing machine! He would never hurt a soul!” You raise your voice, catching your boyfriend’s attention. “And I love him, his existence is none of your business.”

After getting into a heated argument, they realized their mistake and started to back out of the home after you sat and explained to them that you were dating and Kiibo had no malicious intentions.

Regardless, this person seemed to be a bit unstable mentally, so you couldn’t judge them too harshly. After they inevitably flee your home, you untie Kiibo and help put him back together as you explain their intentions.

“Another delusional Robophobe,” he mutters as he rolls his eyes.

Kaito Momota

Kaito continued raising Hell, but he was starting to feelextremely discouraged. You weren’t used to seeing your boyfriend this let down, though.As much as he wanted to fight, his strength was starting to leave him.

He tried his best to stay positive for you, but Kaito wasbeginning to feel drained and tired. You’ve been tied up and held hostage forhours now and it was beginning to feel like help would never come.

That temper is exactly what got the best of him. Everytime your intruder came back into the room, Kaito would erupt in a burst ofenergy and adrenaline. 

They waltzed over to the Astronaut and gave him a rather sinisterlook. “Be careful, Kaito, that temper is what got you into this mess.”

And that sentence is what really threw him for a loop. Confused,he stared at them in wonder and questioned, “What the Hell do you mean?Who even are you?”

He seemed so genuine and you could tell that he was being serious,but your captor wasn’t as amused. They pulled down their mask to reveal theirface, which was a rather bold move in your eyes. “Do you know who I amnow?” The first thing you noticed was a large bruise around their eye andcheek. Still, Kaito shook his head. “…No. Am I supposed to?”

That sent them into an angry frenzy, as if they couldn’tbelieve that he had no idea who they were. It was a little bit alarming and youwere terrified that they would hurt Kaito, but he tried to stay relatively calmin comparison to how he’s been acting. By now, he just wanted answers.

Then, your intruder started to reminisce. “A fewnights ago, we met at a restaurant and got in an argument… does that ring any bells?” Kaito may not have remembered, but you certainly did.

You two had gone out on a date-night over the weekend and he gotinto a fairly heated argument with someone sitting in the table across fromyou. Kaito ended up losing it, resulting in both of you getting kicked out.That’s when you connected the dots and couldn’t help but to roll your eyes.

“You punched me in the face!” They boomed, and it seemed tofinally click. A sarcastic grin appeared on your boyfriend’s face, “Oh,yeah! Sorry about that. But… is that really why you kidnapped us? Can’t wejust kiss and make up?”

Now wasn’t the time for jokes, though, and they didn’t seem toappreciate Kaito’s humor. Still, you wondered how they found where youlived. 

The realization of why you were in this mess settled his nerves abit and he no longer believed you were in any immediate danger. Now, Kaito wasjust annoyed and itching to leave. 

Maybe if he annoyed them enough, they’d just let him go.

Korekiyo Shinguuji

Korekiyo has always been very open with his sexuality, even aroundstrangers. He might be a little bit too open, as he soon realizes.

He stayed relatively calm despite your intense situation, trying to reason with the intruder and wrestle some answers out of them.

And he watched intently as they readjusted both yours and his ties multiple times, switching positions as you might do in foreplay. This caused Korekiyo to furrow his brows out of curiosity, wondering if this person was all there mentally.

They had a weapon but only used it for threats, but by now you could tell that they didn’t have any really evil intentions. If anything, they seemed shaky and nervous, their voice quivered multiple times.

Eventually, Korekiyo’s smooth demeanor caused them to open up. He spits out the ball gag and asks, “Why are you doing this? We’ve never seen you before… why us?” 

His voice sounded serene and calming, but you knew him better than that. Based on his eyes alone, you could tell that your boyfriend was genuinely concerned and fearful.

“W-well,” they started off, “I thought this is what you were supposed to do.” That wasn’t the answer you were really expecting, and Korekiyo pushes further. “What do you mean?” Your captor didn’t seem too violent by any means, and now they sounded a bit uncertain, as if they were regretting putting you two into this convoluted situation. 

“Well, I’ve always been interested in bondage and-”

Korekiyo cut him off, his ears perking up at that sentence. The further he digs for answers, the sooner he realized what was going on. Apparently, your intruder had a minor mutual friend who was into the same things as your boyfriend and advised them to talk to Korekiyo about where to start.

Obviously, they took things in the wrong direction. “This isn’t how you open others up to bondage, it has to be consensual and everyone involved has to know what is happening. You also have to use safe-words.”

You couldn’t believe it - he was giving a bondage lesson to this person as they started to untie you both, listening intently. “But I thought you were into this…”

Everything was just a misunderstanding, and after clearing it all up and giving them a brief rundown on how to go about these things, they were on their way. This is the kind of thing that would only happen to Korekiyo.

Gonta Gokuhara

Youfeel bad for Gonta in this situation since you can tell that he’s confused andunsure of what to do. 

He was begging your intruder to let you go, insisting that this isn’t what a good person would do and that he was a Gentleman, he’s done nothing wrong and didn’t deserve this! It broke your heart because you’ve never seen him in this much distress before.

They clearly weren’t paying much attention to the large man. Gonta was trying his best to keep you motivated and just wanted to protect you above all else, begging them to leave you alone and if they wanted to hurt someone, they could take out their aggression on him.

When they came back into the room and took the gag out of Gonta’s mouth, heimmediately burst into a hysterical fit of questions as the tears of terrorstreamed down his face. “Why you here? Why are you doing this?!”

All your captor did was snicker with a chilling grin on their face. “Why not?” Their response caused goosebumps to rise on your skin as you realized just how serious this situation was.

After being tied up for a few hours, they got tired of rummaging through your belongings and started to pack their bags. Returning to the room where you were being held hostage, they double check that you can’t escape just as Gonta snaps.

“This isn’t what a Gentleman does!” As if on cue, they give him one last chilling stare before walking towards the exit of your home, “Well, I’m not a good person.”

It was a typical home invasion where they burglarized your home, probably not expecting you to be there and tied both you and Gonta up so they could more easily get the job done. After they left, it took several minutes for him to break his ties, then he gently helped release you.

After a brief sweep through your home, you took note of everything that was stolen and reported it to the police, who couldn’t do much since they wore a mask and you never saw their face.

Regardless, you and Gonta were just thankful that they didn’t harm you. Items can be replaced, lives can’t; you were relieved that you were both safe in the end, with just a bit of an emotional scar as a result.

Ryoma Hoshi

You didn’t know a lot about Ryoma’s past since he doesn’t likeopening up about it and you were never one to really force him to talk.

He was fierce and didn’t take your situation lightly,continuing to insult your capture and spew empty threats. Of course, theyweren’t too intimidated by him but he tried.

Any time they got close to you, he would grow even more antsy andangry, and that adrenaline is what kept him going. Eventually, they got sickand tired, pulling out a weapon and pointed it directly at Ryoma.

You screamed against your binds as they leaned in closer to untiehim, still keeping the weapon pointed at him the entire time. All you could dowas sit and watch helplessly, unable to move or help in any way.

He watched silently as they started to grill him. “Nice tosee you again, Ryoma.” That sentence caused chills to rise on your skin as yourealized that this wasn’t just a random break-in, but they planned this. Itmade your situation even more dire and you feared that this had something to dowith the past he refused to tell you about.

And you could tell that he knew more than he was letting on, as hegreeted them and carefully kept his eye on your captor. “Why are youhere?” He asks coldly.

“Oh, I think you know why.” Ryoma hangs his head and nods,admitting that he did, in fact, know. And now, you were feeling completely outof the loop and perplexed as to what was going on.

“Please, just leave us alone. That happened years ago.”

Still confused, the reality was definitely not something you wereprepared for. “When you get wrapped up in the Mafia and kill one of ourmembers, that isn’t something we can just… take lightly, Ryoma.” Their voicesounded almost like a hiss as he grits his teeth and stares at them angrily.

“Then just take me, and let her go,” he gestures towards you, “Shehas nothing to do with this. I never even told her about my past.”

A look of sorrow appeared on their face momentarily and theirhands faltered, but they hardened and went back to the same mannerisms almostinstantly. There was only a brief moment of weakness.

“Well, she knows now, so I can’t let her go anymore.” A sighescaped Ryoma’s lips as he apologized to you, a look of shame appearing on his face and his eyes growingglassy from the tears.

Your own lids started feeling heavy as you realized that you maynot get out of this situation, and you squeezed your eyes shut tightly to blinkaway your own, helpless tears.

- Mod Rantaro

24

i. i must’ve passed out unintentionally at some point. im not happy abt it. I didn’t take my makeup off yet. my teeth aren’t brushed. I do this a lot and I worry abt how damaged they must be getting, jst bc I’m stupid and drink too much. I dnt think I drink that much, I mean maybe in general, but not last night. I had, what? the flights at area two, the spiked seltzer and Moscow mule at cityside, the two beers when I got back to the apartment—wait, no, that actually is kind of a lot. im not sure when I got so desensitized. I check the clock—2AM—so i actually haven’t been knocked out for as long as I thought. two hours, probably. it could be worse. the cat is still awake and still being credulous with me. he’s warming up to me again, but it’s a little disheartening to redo this dance with him each time I see him. remember me, dammit. i remember you. I dnt think I’m being entirely fair to him, though. he’s a cat. i can’t rly apply my human understanding of anything to his behavior. either way, he’s waiting outside the bathroom for me when I go in to attend to my teeth and makeup. he follows me. he falls asleep next to me. i feel a little bit validated. part of me thinks being the kind of person that animals like effortlessly is the mark of some inherent goodness, but I know it’s illogical and this took effort. i want to jst believe there’s goodness here, and in my absence of any real examples, I’ll assign depth to something like this. sometimes it’s all you can do.

ii. the sun doesn’t have any business being up at five-something, but it is, and I dnt think there are shades in this room. well, I’m not sure, maybe there are, but I didn’t have the foresight to look for them or close them. llewyn has moved, he’s in his actual bed now, but he seems to have taken notice of the fact that I’m awake. I try to rest my eyes a little bit. i know i won’t be able to sleep with the sun in my eyes, but it’s restful anyway. I have a long day ahead of me and i want to ease into the morning. i think i drifted back off but I can’t tell. llewyn has moved again. it seems like he wants to cuddle now. impeccable timing, as always. ive heard ian’s alarm go off a few times in the other room but they’ve still not come out of it. i have to leave soon. i wanna actually physically say goodbye but I’m worried they’re avoiding me. the last time we had a goodbye moment, i kissed them on the cheek and that probably made them rly uncomfortable. I’m not even sure why I did that. i think they’re the only person im comfortable showing any kind of affection towards but that doesn’t make that action any less weird. especially given... i dnt want to think abt that shit anymore, actually. i can’t without feeling ashamed and very, very stupid. it’s not like that anymore, but i wonder how much has to happen and how much time has to elapse for something like that to not actually matter anymore. i wonder if it ever won’t. it’s probably not personal. not everything that affects me is abt me, sheesh.

iii. the iced coffee at cumberland farms tastes the same as the iced coffee everywhere else, but i can’t get it here often, and it’s very inexpensive. it can’t help but occur to me that 24 ounces of coffee is 7 calories, and the calorie counts are printed on the packages of the food I got—250 for the sandwich, 150 for the hash browns. i marinade on the thought for a little bit before deciding what to do with it. I eat my food and drink the coffee and try not to remember. I do anyway. I’m trying to think of different numbers. this is a pretty substantial takeaway breakfast for $3 and change. better than what i probably could have got at mcdonalds. the sandwich is kind of soggy but it’s not bad. the hash browns are better.

iv. five hours in the car fly by my nose and im back home, kind of. i think I’m still trying to figure out what “home” means. this place is familiar. it’s where i live. my roommate’s dirty dishes from yesterday morning are still in the sink. mail that the cat knocked off the counter on my way out is still sitting on the floor. 24 hours have passed since I was last here, but it looks like nothing has been touched. I may as well have just stepped out for a cigarette.

v. very rarely does anything change in a days time, but when enough of them pass, everything is suddenly different. i slept on this couch more times than I could count before i was even on the lease, like I’d known I’d someday live here and wanted to warm myself up to it. and I’ve lived here for a while now, going on 8 months to be exact, but it simultaneously feels much longer than that, and as though it hasn’t actually been that long. a lot has happened in that time, but mainly to evan. ive witnessed many things that he’s done but have branched out very little myself. i transferred at my job abt a year ago but im still doing the same work I’ve been doing since i was 19. i still have the same friends but i see increasingly less of them. i get into the same car and travel the same roads that take me the same places. i still drink jst as much.

vi. my body has changed a lot, but the things I’ve always hated abt it are still there and the changes have jst given me more to resent. i look in the mirror when I get out of the shower and it’s all the same. the face with the perpetually stupid, bovine look plastered on it, the same masculine jaw, broad shoulders, breasts that are too far apart, more noticeably so since they’ve gotten smaller, the laparoscopy scar on my navel, the clusters of freckles that are jst pigmented enough to make my skin look blotchy, the perpetually inflamed hair follicles on my thighs, the knobby knees, always covered in bruises, the leg that’s slightly shorter than the other. the counter in the bathroom is high enough that I can’t see my labia but I know they’re there. I want to go a day without debating whether to cut them off with the sharpest knife I can find. it’s not today. the weight loss did little to make me feel better abt the way it all looks—the size of my jaw and shoulders is more apparent now that they are less hidden, my eyes bug out, it’s hard to contort so that my ribs aren’t visible somewhere, my hipbones poke through my clothing. I dnt think I’ve ever looked so bad in my life. Im going to cover up.

vii. I look at the date on my phone and saw that it was the 24th and for some reason identified that this was the last time I’d see that number on a calendar before I turned 24 myself. It doesn’t seem to make sense that I’m that old now. I know it’s not old, too, but it doesn’t seem like that should be me. I still think I behave like a child in a lot of respects, and the thought conjures a memory of my old therapist insulting me, saying that I had the mental tendencies of a child in grammar school. when she told me this initially, I replied to her sarcastically: “well, shit. maybe I should see a therapist abt that” and she told me not to come back to her practice. I cried on the way home despite how cognizant I was of the absurdity of the situation. “grammar school”—who even calls it that? it stuck with me nonetheless. it’s hard to have a therapist fire you, even with the knowledge that the therapist in question was not very good, without wondering if you’re a basket case, if help will always be lost on you.

viii. my job isn’t the worst but the labor feels pointless and it rly intensifies my feelings that I’m fighting never ending monotony to wring out very little in the way of satisfaction. i think you rly have to love this job to do it as a career, or maybe you need to have a specific personality type that makes it easier to engage w. im not very good at socializing and i think im getting too old to keep making excuses for myself abt that. meg and ash are always nagging me to sell more but i dnt feel comfortable enough to make small talk w these people, let alone sell them stuff. i feel like i sound so stupid when I speak aloud. i use a lot of fillers in my speech and it’s rly hard to talk abt hair without sounding like a bullshitter. something is very insincere abt the language that’s involved. i know i know what im talking abt but I dnt know how to sound like i know what I’m talking abt, and it’s hard bc the latter is a lot more important.

ix. I can’t tell if people sincerely aren’t making sense today or if im foggy bc i kept waking up and going back to sleep. this guy keeps saying that the last woman who cut his hair used a 5 on the sides and a 9 on the top but she cut it all w scissors. that definitely doesn’t make sense. i dnt think they even make a 9. why would she be using clipper settings to describe a scissor cut? the top here is at least 3 times as long as the sides and back are. im not going—oh my god, i can’t deal w kids who scream during their haircuts—insane, right? stuff like this makes me rly doubt myself, too, like there are bigger gaps in my knowledge than—wow he rly jst is not tiring himself out w this screaming, huh—i feel there are. what if this actually is a coherent way to describe a haircut? maybe he rly is jst stupid, but I also think that when you write people off as “stupid” all the time, it reflects—god, why is his baby sister screaming now too? nothing is even fucking happening to her—worse on you than it does on them. it’s always the biggest idiots who are so self-satisfied to think that. but im not self-satisfied at all, im very insecure and it’s constantly apparent, but everyone is insecure abt a lot, and that doesn’t doesn’t equal intelligence. I wish I had a sounding board. and i rly wish that kid in Niya’s chair would stop crying.

x. everyone in the salon today seems like they’re in a bit of a weird mood, it’s not jst me for once. the phone is annoying me a lot more than usual today. i feel like it’s ringing every 20 minutes. niya is always very avoidant when it comes to taking haircuts, but meg is lagging today which is unusual. it was busy, too, but i keep getting shafted where tips are concerned. most of my regulars who were due to come in around this time came earlier this week, and usually they’re the ones who tip me the best. the radio station that’s on is very weird too, distractingly so—it’s gone from bowie, to panic at the disco, to nirvana, the police, florence and the machine, neil young, lord huron, rhcp, crowded house. it’s not intolerable, but i can’t seem to follow any sort of genre or time period theme and im paying more attention to figuring this out than i am what im supposed to be doing. it’s that point in the night where people generally stop coming in and I know I haven’t made very much. I’ve counted... $24. weird. are they playing “brick”? that’s a throwback.

xi. i remember my ex being rly into mystics despite not understanding them very well. i forget what he was doing w my natal chart, but he told me once that 24 would be a rly significant year for me. i asked him why and he said that’s all he could figure, there was nothing in the way of further details that he provided. i know I said something back to him abt hoping that id be married by 24—so stupid. granted, i would have been 18 or so at the time and 24 seemed very distant at the time. but that was 6 years at the time, now it’s less than 3 weeks. ive changed a lot, mentally at least, but my circumstances haven’t rly. maybe on superficial levels. yeah, i support myself financially and i have a job in a field i could realistically work in for the rest of my life if I wanted to do that. but im still jst as unsure abt what I want and what’s going to happen to me. i feel like I’m more “sought after” in a few ways, but my phone is jst as dry as it’s always been. i was hoping the move would have been good for me but im very scared abt doing it alone. and i might still do it, i jst dnt know what the timeline is going to look like and there’s no promise of me turning over a new leaf for real and finding my inspiration jst bc my scenery has changed. every time ive moved when I was younger, it jst dug me deeper into loneliness. but i was a child and it wasn’t my choice. but there’s no way for me to rationalize asking my actual lived experiences. maybe that’s the big thing that’ll happen to me at 24? or maybe instead of getting married, I’ll break a marriage up. i know that’s not going to get that far, you know, w kenny. i probably shouldn’t joke abt it, though.

xii. it looks like Evan is home from friday’s already and i rly dnt want to be around him right now. im still feeling rly hurt abt him pulling the plug on the massachusetts move without making any effort at all to sort his finances out or secure some additional income that wasn’t the precarious extra dollars he’s been getting from porn. he keeps sinking all of his money into bar tabs and impulse purchases and takeaway food. and his cars. i wish he would jst be honest w himself abt the cars already. he needs to sell the honda and be done w it before he has to replace the engine and drop another two grand on repairs. i dnt know why he never listens to me. im rly growing to dislike him, but we’re in this together whether i like it or not, and im not going to lead him astray when his financial problems are dragging me down w him. i think i am going to be a hypocrite and go out alone tonight. kenny’s bar is doing that bottle opening thing tonight, right? but i dnt rly want to be around kenny right now. but he might not be there. but i also get a weird satisfaction from being around him I’ll bet it’s going to be a madhouse there, too, and i rly hate crowded bars. but it’s something to do. maybe i will get lucky and someone will talk to me and we’ll have a decent conversation and I’ll never see them again after. why is that my ideal?

xiii. god, running out the last hour on the clock is always hell. no one ever seems to come in, so it feels like a huge waste of time, but when people do come in, i get very irritated. so I’m not sure what i actually want from my time here. i think im jst too fixated on how being stuck here until close almost every night is hurting my ability to expand myself socially. but what would i even be doing if i wasn’t here? i think i would jst be finding a way to waste time. id be sinking hours into doing nothing like I do all the time. i have a lot of time on my hands, in the grand scheme of things. i have literally no idea where it all goes. i drink a lot of it away bc i am generally too uninspired to participate in my hobbies, and i think that feeds the darkness bc they make me very happy. at least w cooking, yknow, i have to eat. i have an organic need to engage w that one. all else has been falling through the cracks, though. i dnt think ive picked my bass up in 3 weeks.

xiv. Kenny’s bar looks like it’s absolutely mobbed and I’d be upset if I went all the way out there only for me not to be able to sit down anywhere. it looks like Evan went back out. that works. i have beer at home. I’d be smarter to save the money anyway. i want to support kenny and the rest of the guys, even though I dnt have a lot of nice things to say abt him. his brewery is cool. it’s cool to have something with so much potential come out of your home town, even if i dnt entirely identify w that place as being my home town. but it’s better than saying that im from alabama, even though i feel like my childhood is more tethered to mobile. i think people would make weird assumptions abt me if I said that. people are rly unfair to what the south is actually like. i dnt know. but their growth has been nice to watch. seeing something you’ve supported since the beginning grow to the degree it has makes you feel pride even if it has nothing to do with you personally. and ive had so many good moments there, w ian, w my family, in general. i met justin there and im happy abt that, even though i dnt know what’s going on w justin. i dnt think justin knows what’s going on w justin. 

xv. looking at my shelf of ian souvenirs is making me miss ian, even though we were jst together, even though we’re seeing one another again in 2 weeks. I wish I could engage w them in a more stable way. seeing them reminds me of being a teenager and breaking into the apartment i used to live in on governor’s island. and since the base went out of commission not long after we moved, i was the last person to live in that apartment. i went back into my first bedroom and the evidence that it used to belong to me was still apparent, but the floorboards had been warped and the wallpaper was very faded out. i felt weird being back, nostalgia and warmth pitted against the instinct that i wasn’t supposed to be there. i wasn’t supposed to see it—a rosy memory colliding w irrefutable proof of the passage of time. ive been very unfair to them, ian, in so many respects but it’s all very mixed and complicated. i look at this person, and i see so many years worth of history, but the familiar messy gold hair is framing a slightly different, slightly fuller face. they talk abt people i dnt know very well, stories set in a city ive spent very little time in. it’s disorienting. i feel like when im here alone, im always confronting their ghost, in places we used to go together, in things we used to talk abt doing but never did—a final hike on a trail that closed before we got the chance to go together, their name scratched in the wall of a dive bar, things they’d always point out on the side of the road, small pieces of their essence scattered across a place they are no longer a part of. i wonder what I did to deserve any preservation, too. i see this person who I truly am proud of, who i rly do think is going places, and that respect gets interpreted into feelings of inadequacy. that there’s no way someone like this can look at me and see anything other than an unstable failure. i dnt think any other person knows me more fully, for better or for worse. worse is dominant. i know it is. my intuition is always screaming at me that they hate me, that they left bc they wanted to get away from me. literally none of that makes sense. i know they dnt lie to spare my feelings, but i feel like they almost have to be. i wonder why i can’t trust that im cared for. i wonder why I can’t have an evaluation of another person that i dnt immediately relate back to myself.

xvi. it took two beers for me to realize that I haven’t eaten anything since i was in boston. i need to stop doing this shit, but im still getting my calories if im drinking them, right? i feel like it doesn’t make sense for recovery to be as difficult as it is, but my emotions have always interfered w my hunger cues, and my body is so accustomed to constantly being hungry that it’s not something i even notice that much anymore. I’ve been getting weird pins and needles feelings in what I’m assuming are my intestines as I’ve upped my intake and I’m afraid of them rupturing and me bleeding out internally when I’m home alone. such a pathetic way to die—having your own blood and bile and shit poison you. I doubt I’m on my deathbed, i think my system is jst on the slow path to returning to normal, but i wasn’t expecting physical symptoms aside from weight gain, which on its own, i could live w. my ednos was never as restrictive as it was until somewhat recently. my problem was generally concerned w binge eating and compensatory behavior, usually fasting or short periods of restriction or exercise. all punishment based. i can’t help but find it ridiculous that i ended up w an eating disorder despite never caring abt my weight. even when I was a high school freshman and overweight, i didn’t care. i think it’s because i dnt outwardly self harm anymore, and that self-destructive need has translated into other conduits. the scars this leaves are much more socially acceptable than what I was left w when I was younger and carved “dumb whore” into my thigh. i can’t believe i did something so stupid. im glad that finally isn’t visible anymore. i can’t believe that i’m almost 24 and still, to some extent, do shit like that.

xvii. i still have that vacation time that I took to look at apartments in massachusetts, and since that isn’t going to happen, i want to take a poorly planned solo vacation. i looked at places to stay in DC, in chicago, in nashville, but i left discouraged. nashville is too far, Chicago is too expensive, DC seems too dangerous. i think my perpetual anxiety prevents me from taking full advantage of my freedom. and I can be free. 24 hours ago, I was in Boston and I didn’t have to tell anyone I was doing that. I’ve navigated a strange place on my own. I lived to tell the tale, but I also wonder what the point is of stuff like this if I have no one to share it w. No one to reminisce w. it feels like a waste of money. almost nothing feels worth what I spend on it––time, money, calories, stop thinking abt calories.

xviii. i open another beer, basically on an empty stomach. i need to stop drinking like this, it’s not even negotiable anymore. i know this is a problem. i need to stop. i dnt know if I want to stop. i want to drown in bliss but I feel none. alcohol amplifies everything I feel, and when I’m feeling good, it’s generally very good, but when it’s bad, it gets very bad. i feel weird now so it’s amplifying the negatives. they do not need that. no, i dnt need that. i know this is an addiction. im scared, but not scared enough to do anything abt it.

xix. i still have Rebecca on social media despite everything. she’s moved, she’s no longer in my proximity, but i still have her on things even though I have no motivation to keep any sort of peace with her. I remember when things happened, when i was too drunk to stand up and she insisted on forcing herself on me anyway, after the fact she kept saying all this stuff to me abt how she wanted me to be her girlfriend and i jst sort of laid there and said nothing. i had nothing to say. i wasn’t processing what’s happened, i jst kept thinking “this is bad. that was bad” to myself. and then she never rly follows up, a small acknowledgment of culpability, maybe, but she’s moved in w some boyfriend now. it’s weird that people can do awful things to you and move on like nothing happened, and you have those moments stuck in your head, keeping you stunted, keeping you away from living uncorrupted, uninhibited, the way you should engage w it. i think of how demoralizing it is to have your perception shattered by a 30-something woman who still laughs at nyan cat shit. i think of how most discussions of sexual assault in the mainstream act as though only men are capable of it, as though it’s only ever happening in heterosexual contexts. i think of how everyone who bullied me in high school probably does not even remember it. i think it’s absurd to compare the two things but I dnt laugh.

xx. i want to talk to Justin but i have nothing to say. i dnt know what I should talk to him abt. i dnt know how you’re supposed to do this stuff. im comforted by the fact that, since he was w someone for 10 years, he’s rly out of the dating loop, and he have no idea what he’s doing either. but it’s a red flag, you know. I think we’re jst friendly. and I’m okay w that, I need friends. i want friends. i never see fati anymore these days. things w evan are polluted. ian is very far away. it occurred to me that i know very little abt him, aside from us getting along, but do we actually? how would I know? it’s not uncommon to have good conversations, for most people. but he knows more abt me than I do abt him. i dnt think i could name a single one of his interests if prompted. he probably couldn’t name one of mine that isn’t “drinking”. I’m not sure if I’m willfully ignorant of reality or if im jst assigning negativity to something without a lot of basis. i wonder why im incapable of living in the moment and not thinking too deeply abt what happens to me. i figured out what I’m doing w all the time on my hands.

xxi. everyone has been telling me lately that i should try to monetize my cooking and I dnt know if I believe them. i can’t imagine I’m as good at it as people say. i dnt trust it. im not even sure if it’s a passion, rly, i think my eating disorder has corrupted my relationship w food and i have to push harder to be interested in it normally, and this is how i cope. i might jst be on a kick. and if it actually is a passion, do i want to ruin it by making it into a living? i didn’t feel one way or the other abt hair when I went into it. it was a neutral activity. to grow to hate it is not a loss. i only care abt being good at it bc directly dealing w people makes my failures feel very personal when they happen. i know good food is something you can’t fake. i made ian spring rolls yesterday and they insisted I not watch them eat. i respected the request, but i needed to see the look on their face. I’m annoyed I didn’t. everything was eaten, I know they wouldn’t have done that if they hated them. but I only have my family to go off otherwise, and they would definitely lie to me. so i dnt know. i feel like support is untrustworthy. i know the people who won’t be honest w me, i dnt entirely trust praise from the people who I know who aren’t shy to say “it’s not my thing, I’m not crazy abt it”. i dnt know why i can’t accept that I’m good at anything.

xxii. there’s no reason for my scale to be out when i’m “trying” to “recover” but i will not put it away. i step on it anyway, and it looks like i’m 103lbs, fully clothed, stomach full of beer. i know it’s bad, but i get a weird amount of gratification from seeing it. it’s very hard to maintain a weight that low, so it feels like an accomplishment, even though it isn’t one. it’s been months since i had a period, and that adds to the sense of satisfaction. but it’s not good. obviously. it’s really getting in the way of me wanting to work out and actually improve my body. i’m fatigued. i’m foggy. i know the fact that i’m depriving myself is partially responsible for my terrible mood. i know i already had a heart problem, why on earth would i make that worse for myself? i’ve been having a few normal eating days, so i still won’t admit to myself that i’ve relapsed. i had a lava cake 5 days ago! there’s a quarter stick of butter in that! and an ounce of chocolate! i didn’t care, so obviously i’m doing something right. i know i’m not, entirely, but i’m staying positive. either that, or i’m extremely in denial. there’s still chocolate in the cabinet. no, of course i am not going to eat it.

xxiii. meg scheduled 6 people on tomorrow, so it looks like i’m not going to make any goddamn money again. my aunt is coming in, so i’ll get a little more from her, but the cash i take home there is so very inconsistent. i feel like the more money i save, the more i worry abt it, like i should have more by now. like i’m going to struggle forever. the stuff i’m buying now won’t matter in a few days, but that anxiety is always going to be over my head. i need a career change. i know that. i keep forgetting that pete gave me money for college, so my “i dnt want to be in debt” excuse is a lie. i keep telling people i’m considering going to college again but i know i never will bc i haven’t actually gotten any better at managing my time and being disciplined. i think i’m better at pretending i am, but i’m not. even if i seriously wanted to, i wouldn’t be motivated enough to actually take the steps required to re-enroll. it’s all too overwhelming. i feel like that feeling alone is a sign i’d fail.

xxiv. I’ve been saying this thing to myself a lot lately to self-soothe: “god’s in his heaven” and i dnt rly know what I mean by that. i dnt know if i believe in stuff like that, I dnt have any reason to believe that there’s any kind of order or force that presides over anything. is that what I’m talking abt? we’re all preoccupied w our own things, attending to our own futures, making our own peace to the best of our abilities? maybe? am i saying that we’ve all been abandoned, ignored? then why do I find it comforting? i dnt think my inner monologue makes a lot of sense, but i only ever talk to myself these days. maybe I’m talking abt myself in an idealized way, but I look back on the past 24 hours and see my good mood i woke up w descend, the 900 calories I’ve consumed today, the $24 I’ve made, the singular text thread I have w ian, the nothing I’ve done in the handful of hours I’ve been home, the three empty beer cans. i know i’m constantly in my own head, constantly picking myself apart, picking everything else apart. it accomplishes nothing. it’s useless self-flagellation. i’m constantly raking myself over the coals for shit that doesn’t matter, constantly agonizing over situations that aren’t actually that deep. i think that’s a way in which i lie to myself. i spend all day beating myself up over the inconsequential while never giving due attention to my actual flaws. even if i was, saying that i’m useless and stupid all the time still does nothing. it’s abt meaningful action, and i’m so bad at that, and i’m doing this exact thing again. i think i do it so i have something to point to, to say “i’m working on myself” when i’m jst being mean and self-righteous abt it. where has it gotten me? what do i want from it? do i think i can bully myself into change? do i rly think it will make me do anything other than resign to complacency? 24 hours, and a lot has happened, but i’ve still gotten nothing done. another will pass, and nothing will change. then enough days will pass, and i’ll notice everything is different, and i’ll still feel jst as stuck. i will be meaner to myself abt it. and that’s what i’ll do. over and over, until the end of time. Evan jst got home. he said something abt how sad i looked. he asked me what was wrong. i wish i had the guts to say any of it to anyone’s face, let alone his. it’s fine, it’s fine, i tell him, God’s in his heaven. whatever it is i actually mean by that.

     Early morning announced itself with the worst sound in the entire world. The sound of his alarm clock going off. Pretending to be half-asleep, Nnoitra reached for his phone to turn off the alarm. That took a good moment, and as much as he wanted to just stay asleep. He was wide awake. For someone who HATED going to school, he was able to wake up pretty quickly. With the room once more going silent, he just lay there, on his back, looking up at the ceiling, while feeling himself being filled with that heavy feeling he started every morning with. What was the fucking point anyway? Why should he go to school? What was the point of him getting an education? He was getting shit grades anyway, so they weren’t going to help him. He was fucking stupid and useless, so he would never get a job. Maybe if he grew a bit taller he could try to pursue a career as a professional basketball player. But - his teammates were right... He was only good because he was tall. On a team with people as tall as him, there would be nothing special about him. He had overheard them talk about it in the dressing room. Going to a place where nobody liked him, and HE didn’t like anyone in return... It was just so disheartening. He didn’t want to feel paranoid about someone talking down on him, or stress out about having to read out loud in class or answer questions or anything like that. He didn’t want people to laugh at him! ALL he wanted was some goddamned respect... And the ONLY way he could get that was if people were scared of him. But, how was he supposed to make them scared if he couldn’t physically hurt them? His mother had given him another round of lectures last night, telling him how this was supposed to be a new start for them both, and that he couldn’t screw it up.

     Groaning, he rubbed his eyes, hard enough for stars to spread across his vision. Being him really fucking sucked. He started every day like this. Wanting to give up. Wanting to just curl up and stop fucking existing. But, that wasn’t an option, was it? So - he got up. His feet hit the floor, and a small shiver traveled up his back when he pushed the covers aside, exposing his body to the not-so-warm temperature in the room. Autumn was a shitty season. Apart from Halloween. He wondered if there would be a Halloween party or something... And - would he get invited? Probably not. He quickly slipped into a pair of jeans, and reached for the closest hoodie. He had showered last night, so he should probably put on something clean, but - fuck it. The hoodie wasn’t that dirty. It only smelled heavily of his deodorant. There was no mirror in his room, so he didn’t get a view of himself until he stepped into the bathroom. This was a good thing, since seeing his reflection was not something that would lighten his mood. He only gave his face a quick glance, before looking away, grabbing the toothbrush. What ‘bout breakfast? He asked himself while squeezing out some toothpaste. He tried to conjure a mental image of what was in the fridge. Maybe there were some leftovers after dinner. Too late now. He was already tasting the minty flavour of the toothpaste. He might be ugly, but at least he had white teeth.

     After finishing in the bathroom, he was back in his room, and gathered his books for today’s lessons. He hardly kept any books in his locker at school, because he was ALWAYS behind on homework. His backpack ended up being really heavy. His knuckles turned white when he carried it into the kitchen. There, he found his mother sitting by the table, eating a bowl of cereal.

     ❝ Good morning. ❞ She said, and gave him a somewhat sleepy smile. Nnoitra didn’t return it, he just grunted, and picked himself an apple from the bowl on the counter. He pretty much always got his lunch at school, but it never hurt to have an apple as back-up.  ❝ I’ll be late tonight, so you might have to eat dinner by yourself. Is that okay? ❞ Of course. He didn’t even WANT to eat dinner with her, if that meant a repeat performance of last night’s shit show. He fucking hated it when she talked to him like SHE knew what was best for him. She didn’t know jack shit about what was going on in his life.

     ❝ Yeah. ❞ He didn’t want to stay here, so he quickly went into the hallway to put on his boots. He heard her say something like ‘ Have a good day at school ‘. He didn’t answer. See? She really didn’t fucking get it. Thankfully, before she could say anything else, he was out the door. The straps on his backpack dug themselves into his shoulders, and there was a book hitting his spine. Pointless. That’s what all of this was. Fucking pointless.

     As he walked towards school ( slowly, since he was early ), he found himself thinking about the incident with the cigarette. His near-death-experience, if you’d like. That had been the only exciting thing happening in his life. He thought about it quite a lot, actually. He also found himself thinking about that blue haired guy. Grimmjow or whatever the fuck people called him. He wondered if Grimmjow thought he was a real pussy, since he hadn’t managed to smoke one cigarette without fucking chocking. Was that guy telling the story to his friends, and they were all having a good laugh about it? Probably. Or, maybe he didn’t give a shit. Yeah, actually, that was more likely. Nnoitra wasn’t exactly the center of the universe. He was more... Put on a far outpost. Who was going to care about him, when - honestly - he didn’t even care about himself. 

Real Advice For Freshman Year

By an incoming Sophomore

- If you need to memorize something, instead of cramming half an hour before, do it 10 minutes every day over the corse of a week, it gets in your long term memory and it's much easier to remember

- Drama will happen, being with people you care about for around 35 hours a week will inevitably result in some arguments and fights. Just try to not do anything rash while you're mad, remember to keep a calm head, apologize for things that you did wrong, and try to avoid it if possible in the future if you were in the wrong on something. But if you always have fights with someone or they deliberately argue with you for no reason, consider dropping them, you don't need that in your life. It doesn't matter how long you've known them, if they aren't good for you, drop them.

- Try not to procrastinate, it will be the death of you. If you have a 2 page paper due at the end of the week don't do the whole thing the night before it's due, work on it bit by bit throughout the week. But procrastination is inevitable. It's not the worst thing you can do but I don't recommend it.

- Get enough sleep.

- Aim to wake up at a reasonable time so if you're ever late you have time if you rush.

- About waking up, know when to wake up and know when is the absolute latest you can wake up without being too late, set an alarm for when you regularly wake up and a different alarm sound for the absolute latest so if you wake up at the absolute latest alarm you know to get the fuck up.

- Always carry pads with you if you have a vagina. Not just for you but let your other friends know you have them. The worst thing is getting your period and having no pad and it's a lifesaver if someone else can lend one so you don't have to suffer the whole day. You will be in that position a few times in your life and you will need to borrow a pad from someone so be that someone for others having an emergency. Guys this is also for y'all too, if you have friends who go through Satan's waterfall once a month and you can, keep a pad or two in your backpack and let them know you have one if they need it. Getting your period unprepared is the worst thing.

- Mind your manners, don't be rude

- This should go without saying but if you do drugs don't let your teachers know, this comes from experience, most of them really don't care if you smoke weed on your own time but if you tell them they have to report you. Keep it to yourself.

- Do your summer homework, it starts the year off on a good note, and it gives a good impression if you have it ready on the first day.

- Highschool isn't a bad as you think it will be, it's really chill, hang out with people you like, do things you like, and it won't be that bad. The best way I've heard it described is that it's just a bunch of sleep deprived kids trying not to get yelled at by their parents.

- Maybe it's different in your school but upperclassmen really don't care about underclassmen. They aren't going to bully you, they honestly probably don't care about you, they're just trying to get their grade and leave.

- Find a club you like and join it if possible. It looks better on college applications and it occupies you and gives you a sense of purpose.

- Do your homework, it really adds up if you don't do it and it will kick your ass of you try to make it all up the week before grades are due.

- Worry about yourself before you worry about other people.

- Talk to your teachers if you have a chance to, if they know you can be civil and normal with them they'll be better grading you. Remember they're normal people with lives outside of the classroom. If you don't particularly dislike them it's a good idea to befriend them in a way so they're nicer to you.

- If you need to turn something in and it's half way done, turn it in. Half credit will ALWAYS be better than no credit. Take the credit you can get.

- Highschool movies are lies highschool isn't really anything like that.

- Sounds cheesy but be yourself. You might have to put yourself out there a little bit just be yourself. In my experience if you're just yourself you will find others like you and you and people like you will gravitate to each other. They might not always be the perfect person but you might find some good people like that.

- A tip I've used is if you need to figure out something's symbolism, mainly in English, but if they ask you like what's an abject that symbolizes this character, look up flower language and just look for a flower that matches their personality and use that, it's quick and makes you look good.

- Have something to do in your free time other than your phone because sometimes you might not be able to use it but you'll have free time in a class so do your homework, or if you don't have any, have a book to read or a coloring page or something so you won't be bored out of your mind. Having to sit in a chair doing nothing for an hour is extremely annoying.

- Know where you're going in the hallway, stick to the correct side to avoid traffic.

- Physical fights aren't worth it, avoid them if they're not necessary but if you need to defend yourself don't hesitate to do so.

- Self care is important. Maybe buy yourself a bath bomb and save it for a particularly hard week and take a long bath. Maybe call your friend and talk to them after school. Maybe instead of starting on your homework as soon as possible put it off a few hours and read a book to destress. Life is twice as hard to get through if you're stressed the whole time. Take time for yourself if you need it. Know what your mind needs to stave off the stress that you will get about school, life, and family.

- Take a minute before you go to sleep and lay out your outfit for the next day. Especially if you need to wear something specific the next day like a uniform or a color. It saves you time in the morning and since you're not in a zombie fog after waking up you're less likely to forget something.

- HOMEWORK FOLDER. Get a folder, put it in your main binder or backpack or whatever. Label the left side "Unfinished" and the right side "Completed", when you get a homework assignment put it in the left side, when you get halfway through an assignment put it in the left side, when you finish a homework assignment put it in the right side, when your teacher gives you a worksheet and says "have this for next class don't lose it" put it in the right side. Put everything in there and you won't lose it. I can't guarantee you'll do it that's up to you but you'll know where it is. And it's so satisfying to see a thin left side and a thick right side.

- Just because you got all As in middle school doesn't mean you'll get all As in highschool, it's a lot harder and the grading is stricter. Don't panic the first time you get a B.

- Try to stay on top of your grades. It's a lot easier to maintain a good grade than it is to boost a bad grade. That is 100% personal experience.

- If you get a bad grade on something that you tried your best at or were proud of it'll hurt, but just remember that doesn't define you. It's easier to write off a bad grade if you didn't put in as much effort but seeing a grade you don't love on something you worked hard at is disheartening. Don't loose hope, it might not be with you it might just be the teacher was looking for something different or you just didn't do as well as you hoped. Take the bad experience and work harder and smarter next time.

- Stay on top of your easy grades especially. In my gym class as long as we dress in our uniform and do something we'll get credit, so it's my easiest class to get an A in. So if you get a good grade with minimal effort take it and it'll be a much needed boost for your GPA.

- Set realistic long term and short term goals for yourself. They'll help you, give you something to work towards, and put you in a good mood when you achieve them. For example my long term goal is to graduate highschool and get into a college I'm okay with with at least a partial scholarship. My short term goal is to do as much of my homework as possible and to get higher than a 80% in every class I can.

- Don't hold yourself to an impossible standard. Know what you're good and and know what you're not so good at, adjust your goals accordingly. If you're not very good at science don't set your goal for science class as a 95% or higher set it at 80% or higher. My goal that I go for is to try my best to get a B or higher in every quarter grade, the grades are good and it's not impossibly stressing me out if I get a bad grade on a quiz and it brings my grade down 2 points.

- Try to remember that as much as you have the right to drop people who are toxic or not good for you from your life, other people are allowed to drop you just the same. It might be your fault it might not. As long as they don't do it in a bad way respect their decision. I feel like this self care culture doesn't pay enough attention to that part of life. Sometimes you aren't good for people weather you did something or not and you're going to have to accept it. It hurts but other people deserve to be happy just as much as you weather you're in their happiness or not. If they do it in a bad way yes you can be mad at them, if they do it in a good way you're allowed to hurt, but keep it in mind.

- Try to find something that motivates you or inspires you. Maybe it's a song or a piece of art or an episode in a show you like, have that and look or listen to it whenever you feel lost or something important is about to happen. Mine is a speech by Neil Gaimen in 2012 called "Make Good Art"

That's all I can think of right now I'll almost certainly add more later as I think of them. Feel free to add more yourself if I missed anything. Good luck to all the freshmen! I hope this helps you

au zimbits meetcute - hot guy at the grocery store

CW: vague mentions of body insecurity and fat shaming, abuse of energy drinks, college typical sleep deprivation Note: i love chubby non-hockey jack a LOT. also i miss cheetos a lot and would kill a man to be able to eat them again. not even exaggerating honestly. 

Today was the worst possible day for Jack to run into Hot Guy at the store, so of course he ran into Hot Guy at the store. The universe hated him.

Jack and Hot Guy had similar schedules, it seemed: they both did their grocery shopping on Thursday evenings, they both got munchies on Sunday afternoons, and sometimes they even ran into each other doing beer runs on the weekend. Hot Guy appeared to be a Samwell student, as well, given his SMH hoodie -- and Christ did hockey follow him everywhere -- and always smiled kindly at Jack when they bumped into each other, sometimes chatting for a minute or two in his cute-as-fuck southern accent before scurrying off to the baking section. Jack had yet to learn his name, but he knew he was getting pathetic when he started looking forward to his grocery store trips.

But today was not a good day for Jack to be seen by the hottest guy in the neighborhood. They were deep into finals, and Jack was totally rewriting a good chunk of his thesis and this draft was possibly due tomorrow and the neighbors kept arguing and Jack was running on about two hours of sleep and-

Everything was terrible. Even Hot Guy couldn’t make that better, especially since he was now looking at Jack with his stress-eating-belly and anxiety-induced breakout and what Parse had once dubbed his Super Tired Murder Eyes. Jack looked horrible and Hot Guy was fucking killing it in his tight sweatpants and oversized Sabres hoodie -- something he’d probably stolen from his boyfriend because he was hot and nice and definitely couldn’t be single at all or even interested in a huge mess like Jack.

Grunting to himself, Jack reached for a pack of Five Hour Energy and hoped it wouldn’t kill him. He didn’t have time to worry about Hot Guy, had too much to get done.

“Oh, Lord, that stuff messes with my head.”

To Jack’s horror, Hot Guy had approached him and was pointing at the energy drinks in his hand. “Euh,” was his eloquent response.

“I get all shaky and hot when I drink more than half a shot of those things,” Hot Guy continued, his own basket laden down with a disturbing amount of unsalted butter. “‘Course, that’s usually after several espressos and an Americano or two, so maybe I shouldn’t tempt fate like that.”

Jack’s lips quirked at the edges as Hot Guy pronounced it “express-o.” Despite himself and his nasty appearance -- when was the last time he’d showered? -- Jack was really happy to see Hot Guy.

“That’s a lot of butter,” Jack commented, struggling to keep the conversation going. Hot Guy looked down ashamedly.

“Yeah, I know, I just- I stress bake, you know? Probably an unhealthy amount, but at least it fuels the boys in their studying and no one has to trek out to the dining hall and disturb their momentum.”

Jack assumed he was referring to his teammates, and desperately hoped he didn’t mean his multiple handsome boyfriends or something else equally disheartening. “What are you making?”

Hot Guy’s smile came back and Jack ignored the stupid flip in his stomach at the sight. “Well, pie’s my specialty, so I’m going through our sin bin fund and trying to make everybody’s favorite pie before the week is up. Tonight’s menu includes honey peach and chocolate chip pecan.”

Jack held back a smile at the funny way Hot Guy said pecan. He was too cute for words, and Jack so desperately wished they had a class together or that he was on the hockey team, too, or that they knew each other from somewhere other than the grocery store.

“Sounds delicious,” Jack said, fiddling with the Cheetos and Chef Boyardee already loaded into his basket. He loved junk food when he was stressed, but a homemade pie sounded divine right now.

“You should come over for a slice,” Hot Guy said, and Jack looked up to see he was biting his bottom lip nervously. “I mean, if you want. If you’re not too busy. You don’t have to, but we always have plenty of pie- oh! And I’m making Buffalo chicken mac n’ cheese tonight for Holster, he claims it’s the ‘dish of his people’ but I don’t believe that for one second-”

Jack wondered idly if this was the boyfriend whose Buffalo Sabres hoodie Hot Guy wore now. “Oh, uh, that sounds great, but I’m sort of drowning in work tonight and probably shouldn’t…”

“Oh, right, of course,” Hot Guy said quickly, and though Jack wasn’t great with reading other people’s emotions, he thought it would be unusual for a guy with a boyfriend to blush this hard in these circumstances. “I-I just thought- I always see you here and you’re really- I mean, it’s silly, I know it’s silly, but- Do I sound creepy? I’m sorry, you’re not interested, I should just-”

Jack caught Hot Guy’s elbow as he turned to leave, smiling as he realized what was happening. “I turn in a draft of my thesis tomorrow. I still have finals but I’m pretty confident in my abilities...what I’m trying to say is, do you want to get coffee tomorrow? If you’re not too busy?”

Hot Guy looked stunned and nodded slowly, large, warm eyes growing impossibly larger. “That would be nice. Annie’s?”

Jack nodded eagerly. He lived close to Annie’s and liked their smoothies. “They have good chocolatine there.”

Hot guy tilted his head to the side in confusion. “Chocolatine?”

“Pain au chocolat,” Jack clarified.

To his surprise, Hot Guy didn’t politely agree or subtly eye Jack’s chunky gut or make some comment about their healthier options. Instead, he gasped and said, “They do not. I love Annie’s to death but their pastries are an abomination.”

This startled a laugh out of Jack. He’d never met someone who was so passionate about baked goods. “They taste like the kind my dad makes.”

“Then you need to send your father my recipe,” Hot Guy said. “C’mon, let’s grab the fixings for it and I’ll bring you some tomorrow.” 

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Jack protested. “You have your pies already-”

“Uh-uh, mister,” Hot Guy said, pulling Jack by the hand toward the baking aisle. “I do not show up to a first date empty-handed.”

And the thought of that -- of going on a date with Hot Guy -- was honestly too much for him to process on such little sleep. “Wait, wait, hold up.”

Hot Guy turned, cheeks pink again. “Sorry, I just assumed-”

“I don’t know your name.” Jack looked down at their connected hands and swallowed roughly, anxiety bubbling in his gut. “I need to know your name before our date.”

Hot Guy smiled widely and laughed, loud and bright. “Oh, Lord, where are my manners? I’m Bitty. Well, Eric, but all the boys call me Bitty. Hockey,” he clarified with a shrug.

“Nice to meet you, Bitty,” Jack said. “I’m Jack.”

“Oh, uh, yeah, I Facebook stalked you,” Bitty admitted, looking down at his shoes. “Pretty much the first day we met.” He looked up, worried. “Is that creepy? I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s kind of flattering,” Jack said, moving closer. “I wish I’d thought to Google you.”

“The boys say your dad’s hockey famous or something,” Bitty admitted, still looking unsure. “I don’t really know much about the NHL.” He gestured to his sweatshirt. “I couldn’t name a single player on the Sabres. I stole this from my teammate because all mine are covered in flour and egg.”

Jack felt something warm bubble in his chest. It had been a year or two since he’d been recognized and nobody really talked about him much anymore, but there was always something refreshing in meeting a person who had no clue who he was or who his father had once been. To Bitty, Jack was just the awkward guy he’d liked enough to find on Facebook. He probably thought of him as Tall Guy or Montreal Jack -- Bitty didn’t know the weight of the Zimmermann name at all.

“A hockey player who doesn't watch the NHL? I’m shocked,” Jack chirped, delighting in the sound of Bitty’s laugh again.

“Shush, I get enough grief from my boys, I don’t need it from a hot guy, too.”

Jack paused for a moment, confused, and then leaned down to peck Bitty’s cheek, overcome with emotion in his delicate, sleep-deprived state.

“I’ve really got to run,” Jack said, pulling back. “But tomorrow at 3 or so?”

“3’s perfect,” Bitty said breathlessly, hand creeping up to touch the cheek Jack had kissed.

“Just so you know,” Jack murmured, giving Bitty a quick wink. “I think of you as Hot Guy, too.”

Bitty’s blinding smile followed Jack through the checkout line and back to his apartment, dancing around his head as he blasted through the last bit of his thesis and starring in his dreams as he passed out around dawn, alarm clock set to wake him up in time for his date.

[My writing masterpost (a WIP itself)]

[My online novel]

BARYA: Child Labor in Manila

It was just an ordinary day for us and heavy traffic, which seems to have been a daily routine, lies along Avenida Highway in Manila. Public vehicles with the unbeatable equatorial heat filled this agora. Outside the jeepney window, you’ll notice the worst crisis our country has been facing. Poverty.

Homeless families and street children demonstrate how our country fights poverty. Dressed in torn and dirty loose shirts, they eagerly cross the highway every day without considering their safety just to survive from starving.

While the City of Manila is the capital of the Philippines, this place, unfortunately, is still considered to be the city with the largest number of street children and workers. Hurtful as it may seem, but they just represent the lack of our country to cease poverty.

Sometimes, children think life outside their home is better and much joyful. But for Bryan, a 10-year-old street worker who forced to risk his life in his hazardous job, staying on the street is definitely a difficult challenge for him. He has no choice but to risk his life on the street.

Chasing the jeepneys passing by along the highway, he doesn’t care if people mock and feel disgusted with him. He wipes the shoes of passengers and asks for some money.  It would be a great blessing if he could collect at least some ‘barya’ or coins from them. But where does the collected small amount of money go? Just like what typical street children do, he was forced to do this to support his financial needs in school.

Following our conversation, we had the chance to ask him what does he want to do in the future. He, then, answered he wants to arrest criminals and street children like him who do such illegal things. By the look of things, he is likewise determined to earn money and continue his study.

Meanwhile, a cute little guy with chinky eyes captured our way in Divisoria. “A-che (Ate), bili po kayo,” he joyfully uttered. We literally stopped and variegated face mask welcomed us. Since the area itself is polluted, we were left off-guard. We were in the middle of peeking his merchandise when a man, around his early thirties, came by.

Out of curiosity, we felt the urge to ask the man next to him and found out that this little child, named Oman, is his nephew. At the very young age, he grew up helping his family and spending his daytime in this polluted area. Currently, he is a six year- old kid planning to enter his first grade.

In the Philippines, a lot of kids are already working part time to earn some penny. Oman is just one of them, which is indeed alarming considering the fact that children in his age should spend their time in school. According to the Child Labor Act of 1992, working before the permissible age is illegal.  Yet we can’t deny this hiatus is unbreakable.

While innocently hugging his filthy feather duster, we playfully asked him to choose between a cheetah and a plainly designed mask. He slightly bit his lips then pointed the first one. We paid the mask to him and sent us a kiddie smile.

Along the street of Quiapo, Manila, we spent many hours to find out what real hard work is. We noticed a mirthful girl wandering around with a bunch of plastic bag hanging on her skinny arm. Her face portrays a look of a decent yet unhealthy child. The girl that caught our mournful eyes is Manilyn. She is an eight-year-old girl who started to earn a living at the very young age by selling plastic bags shamelessly.

She’s just one of the unfortunate street children who have already been working on the street. She sells plastic bags to help her mother who has tuberculosis and earn for her school allowance as well. Nevertheless, it has never been an inconvenience to her since she is already used to it.

When asked about her single wish, she mentioned that she wants to be a teacher someday. She added that she wants to teach for free so that no more children like her will force to stop going to school due to poverty. At this point, we suddenly remembered the famous saying of a poor farmer who wants to send his child to school, “Hindi ko hahayaang danasin mo ang mga dinanas ko noon.” Despite her innocent and jolly image, she seems to be quite aware of what poverty means.

Amidst the sudden drop of light rain, a barefooted boy who was begging for money caught our eyes in Sta. Mesa. He was knocking the windows of few cars passing by the highway of Mandaluyong to Quezon Avenue whenever it all slow down for a red light. He would ask money to the drivers with his red paper cup.

Unlike the street children we just encountered, he couldn’t walk properly. He’s physically disabled making his situation a bit complicated. He was all dirty and pitiful roaming the highway with his longing to earn a small amount of money.

When traffic lights turned to green, he finally had time to take a rest for a while in the gutter. A guy, who seems to be his friend, approached him and they started to count the money or coins they have solicited. This kind of work is obviously illegal yet we can’t help but think positively that they are just doing this on purpose.

Seeing street children roaming around like this is indeed disheartening. But who is to blame? Although pointing finger without justifiable reason is a bad habit, it is still inevitable to blame the negligence of their parents. We’ve come to the point if somebody becomes the child in the picture, will he or she be able to survive and sacrifice his safety on the street just to earn a penny? They may not be as lucky as some people, but they are somehow blessed with bravery and courage in life. 

What you think about the false rumour about youngmin? You think that he can debut now? And he fanbase stay strong? Sorry for my bad english and thanks.

Hey bud, no need to apologize for your English at all! :)

The rumor was the worst thing that could happen to him at this point, tbh. He was doing so well after his leader edit :’( 

I love Youngmin so much; it’s disheartening so see negative things about him. Plus, the logic that knetz rely on is severely skewed and delusional. I don’t actively follow all of his fansites but I did see some of them deactivate or just stop posting. I don’t mean to alarm anyone by saying that, though. Those could have just been outliers and his core fandom is hopefully staying strong. 

There’s also been pann posts debunking the rumor (rightfully so) and they go pretty in depth and the comments are always great on those. The sites that do bash him skew toward the teen demographic (dcgalls/pann) so I’m hoping that Youngmin has a good store of older fans and mature young ones that can push him through. I’ve read lots of positive tweets on ktwitter from older fans that basically scold younger fans for dropping him.  

I don’t think that he’ll make top 11 unless he gets another good edit boost or a positive post goes viral. BUT, I do think he’ll survive this ranking. It sucks that the scandal happened at all, but at least it happened late in voting so he had more time to accumulate votes before people stopped voting. :’(

A disclaimer as always: This season is chaotic in rankings so everything is speculation.