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the-diary-of-red-beryl · 1 year

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ramblings in my delirium

tw: suicide, mental health. this one’s more of a ramble, and not a whole lot of conclusiveness. i've currently also a cold, which makes my cognitive processing struggles a bit more difficult. still, i think i’ve discovered some new things about myself lately so here it is:

if there was a phrase that i felt best described my life so far, I'd say that it's akin to being in a city of eternal night.

it dawned on me recently that I'd never felt happy or enjoyed doing anything once in my life. I've always felt bored, and especially at night, I'd feel existential dread. this has been the case for as long as i can remember. i can feel distracted or engaged from doing some things, but the moment it's done I feel no added warmth. for exercise, or learning a skill, or doing adult things like paying bills or finishing saving up for a big purchase, i feel the satisfaction of making progress or achieving a goal, but i ultimately don't derive joy from it. it's something that needs to be done, and it's good if it's done well. what this means is that it's something I'd do if I'm alive and forced to keep living, but it wouldn't be something I look forward to experiencing, I couldn't care less about any of it, especially if I contemplated whether to die tomorrow.

i was prepared for my life to end when i was seventeen. I couldn't see an end to the troubles that i was facing, or hope for a future where i might feel positively. it surprises me that five years have passed by since these moments, because these years feel f*cking long. i take some level of comfort in the fact that the world doesn't just crumble into non-existence at the whim of my mood, each day passes whether I will for it to or not. it feels like a sick joke to me really, that my struggles are a blip in the sea of primordial soup, in which the universe only cares for whether I choose to be alive the next day, and there's absolutely no guarantee that if I choose to continue that eventually I will see better and more agreeable days. I don't necessarily need to be here either, I'm not important. although i guess I'm technically held here against my will simply because the human body is insanely good at not wanting to actually die, even when it gets around to it. one of the richest emotions I've ever felt was insane fear staring at the noose i had set up in front of me back then. i already have an overactive emotional gut, but i quite literally recoiled in a stomach ache and was figuratively sh*tting myself and uncontrollably shaking. it does remind me that i wanted to use dying as a means to escape the pain and hopelessness that i was (and still) am going through, even at the cost of the potential to see life turn out for the better. that pure fear is probably the biggest reason why I'm still alive, and why dying is not something i consider anymore whenever i feel like I'm stuck again and ready to give up.

i do have days where I feel content, though it's more so a feeling that arises out of having my primary needs met like having food on my plate, a roof over my head and money coming in that I've earned for myself. it's not enough to make me look forward or want to wake up for another day, but these are the things that must happen should i keep living, is what i feel. i imagine when people say they feel content, it's that it's these things, but also that they have things they enjoy and can look forward to in the near future, something that keeps them going. i just feel numb. i can recognise moments when people would be happy, and i can feel happiness vicariously through others, i can also mirror happy facial expressions. but I don't physically feel any of it for myself. the warmth doesn't linger in my body, and i dare say it was never there in the first place. i smile out of social obligation to others, whether to build amicable acquaintanceships, or to show appreciation for a thoughtful gesture (an appreciation of a more transactional nature, objectively understanding that something is good for me without the added emotion of feeling "touched").

many people have close friends that they only see twice a year or so, but with whom when they catch up, it's like they've never left. a question that comes to mind for me when thinking about this, is what you're supposed to do for the six months between each visit. I think I'd really struggle getting by if I only had friends that I saw twice a year, given how much of a struggle it already is for me to just survive each day. i think that when people say this, it's because they already have other things in the picture that make their lives worth living, and these friends are an added bonus, which, I do think is the way it should be. i also think that what elevates these in-between periods is the feeling of family, a home with the warmth of people that care for you (and you them) that you interact with more frequently if not daily, and with whom you feel safe and secure around, and who help you recharge your energy as you go through your day-to-day life, although i do wonder whether you need to be close with these people. that said, i do think that what deepens a connection isn't necessarily how much time you spend with them, if you already have the right chemistry then twice a year is enough to maintain that, and i guess when or if your everyday life overlaps then you'd take up that opportunity together as well? i think proximity is a big factor in this case, whether that's living closeby or having similar schedules.

so suppose there’s an ideal friend out there for me, for my current state of being, assuming that i don’t feel happiness for the foreseeable future. it’d have to be someone that isn’t off put or stressed by me not feeling happy when we hang out or that i don’t enjoy doing things, who is able to find comfort in me just being there and what i bring to the table. i can provide presence, responsiveness, a piece of mind, huge interest in human psychology and emotional connections. i can be someone you share a meal with, and if you just need me there, i can share your space. i’ve almost described having a pet. it is something i’ve been considering, given it might provide me with the much needed oxytocin day-to-day, however i’m worried that i be able to consistently look after it, or worse yet not be able to form a bond (based on my history with people). but also, i think i see the difference here is that a pet doesn’t choose to be with you, but a friend does. to have someone out there get to know you, and decide that you’re the one they want in their life (because it’s you and not anyone else), that’s something i’m looking for. of course, the other alternative is i meet someone who manages to muster all these positive emotions in me for the first time ever, and they happen to appreciate that and want to be close, which may or may not happen. but i do think that either way, i don’t believe that i need to be without flaws to have friends (and my flaws aren’t particularly bad), it just depends on whether someone takes an interest in me and that it’s mutual.

well, the kind of people i choose to associate with is fairly specific. foremost, i can’t stand people who intentionally choose to harm others, whether physically or emotionally, or resort to displays of anger, intimidation and control to get the things that they want. i also can’t stand people who display indifference or bystander behaviour when it doesn’t take much effort to do something good in the situation. then, i prefer people who are reliable and competent, who can get things done (this one’s partly due to me having trauma from growing up with unreliable parents, but also is a core value of mine), and can communicate well and navigate difficult topics, whether they’ve experienced it or not, and have the ability to empathise. i’m fine with the friendship being bumpy, and over time you’re meant to decide whether the friendship is well-suited and worthwhile anyway. but from there, i think what’s left is chemistry and things i haven’t figured out i needed, and chance.

I've never experienced or been able to develop a deep relationship with someone else in which I could feel comfortable being myself in, and safely rely on. I can't say I've ever truly had fun being with someone, felt warm after getting to know them and really feel that from what they bring into my life (objectively, saying i had fun with someone means that i felt that our conversation flowed naturally and that we had similar values, and i would like to do this again another time to develop our friendship further). that said, i think i’ve gotten better at building and maintaining acquaintances or not-so-close friends, and seeming more personable.

the question that is begged here is that, how does someone form a friendship with others if not on a basis of sharing joy? i think typically this would be the case, that people just naturally gravitate towards those that they enjoy being with, share common interests, and eventually build trust with and feel safe around. but for me, who doesn't enjoy doing anything and never actually feels ok, who can only mirror positive emotions in others at the cost of not being true to myself, it's a bit of a trick question. not to mention that i think and communicate in a way that is not neurotypical, and my obliviousness to some social etiquette makes some people rule me out as someone to consider getting closer to. the expectations to conform to said social interaction rules is a whole different story, given that it drains me to mask like that and feels wholly unnatural and unsustainable, and the nature of which doesn't provide me with any emotional markers to follow suit. a quick summary, as a teenager i heavily, very heavily displayed symptoms of borderline personality disorder, and i believed that my difficulty in building relationships with others was only because I didn't have the opportunity to do so and learn from experience of getting socialised. but now, having been able to meet and befriend many people, and see the friendships come and go, i realise that i struggled to learn the 'right' way to act anyway, unless someone explained to me subsequently what i did or didn't do, and why and how it affects others, because i really, absolutely, do not feel any emotions relating to when these things are done to me. i suppose maybe it's a bit like teaching a colourblind person to see colours like someone who isn't colourblind might see. but what i mean is that, i think people follow these actions and phrases to show intent, like expressing to the other person that their personal space is respected, or that they're welcome in the home, but to me, I don't feel any different if it's done another way as long as it clearly shows their intent (which i say i can read intent well at least). I'd actually add further that i think the intent in mind for these practices isn't necessarily the one they truly feel deep down, it's more so a desired message that they wish to send across, regardless of how they actually feel, something more diplomatic? I'm just theorising here, but it might be a mechanism that people use to establish the safety of space between others, close friends or coworkers or whatnot, and playing the game shows to others that you're on the same page on what the rules are, and the objective is to preserve both yourself and others. in the same vein, it's why i think I'm decent at tackling difficult topics like my experiences and feelings, or breaking down industry jargon and ideas into something digestible for any audience, but absolutely struggle with persuading people and influencing how they feel subtly through words and visuals or build morale and rapport, I'm not utilising that "space". i can feel emotions through others, and mirror what they express, and can predict their behaviour based on past experiences, but I can't accurately fathom what they're thinking or influence it well even through clear communication. i do recognise this as a skill that i want to learn because of its usefulness, although I would not use this if i can help it.

a consolation prize is that i can at least feel comfort when I'm able to put my jumbled thoughts into words, although knowing whether I've made progress in choosing a suitable direction or solution out of it is a different story (i blame depression brain fog). one thing I've learnt in my years of navigating this thick brush of depression is that there's a lot of false alarms for when things might seem to make a turn for the better. after socialising with a group of new people, the mix of feeling distracted, engaged, and hopeful, makes me think that maybe I'm finally happy, but the distinguishing factor is that that "feeling" is so terribly impermanent, almost as though it's just something i conjured up for myself after desperately looking for its true form for so long. i think I'm just good at identifying moments where i should be happy (but I'm not), not that not feeling happy in those moments necessarily means that there's something wrong with me. sometimes it comes out later that my intuition was right that i felt that something was off earlier, for example i felt that i didn't click with the people i just met. that said, i too often do scratch my head when clearly nothing's wrong, but i still feel terribly numb. whether that's travelling in a new country, eating very good food, going to concerts, going for a walk, or meeting old friends. i wonder whether it's because I don't know what actually makes me happy, because it exists and I've yet to find it, if I just can't feel it at all, or i do feel it, but not in a large enough magnitude because my other emotions are greater in scale?

objectively, I don't believe that there needs to be a reason why certain people have different things that make them happy. the reason's trivial, it's that they feel happy first, and then later realise why that's the case. although for the more unfortunate, it would help to understand the reason first and subsequently try out things. for me though, both are hard because i don’t have any indications in the first place to help figure out where to go from there. the more helpful thing for me to consider is rather purpose. the dangerous moments are when i wonder to myself why i’m alive, whether there’s a point to any of this. the other day i settled on the idea that maybe someone out there needs to meet me, and specifically me. maybe meeting me will brighten up their life (and them mine), however far into my life this might be. i think it works, because it takes the focus away from what i want (because it’s as easy for me to stop wanting it and to prefer to disappear), and onto something more out of my control that i still kind of care about. but i still wonder what i need to do to brighten up the rest of my day-to-day life to make it more worth living and less painful. workplace adjustments, homelife adjustments, looking after myself physically and understanding more of myself, professional help (this one’s always hard and a work in progress given the financial costs, suitability and time availability of health practitioners and counsellors, etc.), but it still feels like i’m missing quite a bit. my current guess is that maybe i can start taking note of my experiences so that i can recount it back to that person later in my life? somehow it’s a lot easier for me to do things when it’s for someone else’s sake (though not just anyone’s).

#diaryposting #diary entry #self reflecting #journal #writing #online diary #dear diary #diary #my diary

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darkdevasofdestruction · 3 years

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Brahms's Lullaby ~ Brahms Heelshire x Reader

Note: Why do I love Brahms? Fuck if I know. Anyway, this is what happens when a a meek, cute girl moves away from her old life to turn the page and find herself once again...And yet, her dark past quite literally comes back to haunt her.

'That's one huge manor...' Y/N thought to herself, the back of her neck straining as she scanned it from the bottom to the very top of the roof. The grip on her luggage tightened as she gulped in anxiety, and after taking a few deep breaths, she entered in this house, and immediately got greeted by the elderly woman who was the mistress of the house.

Y/N wasn't sure if it was her who was just nervous about the drastic change in her life, or if the woman was simply incredibly intimidating, but hey, as far as she was concerned, this woman won't be staying with her, so she will be all alone in the house, taking care of a child...How bad could it be?

Oh wait. Y/N hates children. They are so loud, bratty, obnoxious, entitled, rude...And the list could go on for ages, but she couldn't loiter in her mind any longer, and instead, she had to memorise where each room was, and what instructions the woman was saying.

She couldn't believe it, but she was glad she chose to wear a pair of comfortable sneakers, for she kinda got tired going up and down the manor...But what could she do anyway?

The kitchen got introduced to her, the woman told her to keep the leftovers in the freezer, told her about Malcom the delivery boy and how he's the only one allowed to bring her stuff. Weird, but what could she do? P'haps the child has a very strict routine that they must stick to, otherwise they'll feel weird and uncomfortable. Who knows?

And then, she showed her the music room, and while she wasn't paying much attention to the woman who turned on the music on the radio rather loud, Y/N looked around, inspecting the musical instruments, especially the piano, and the music sheets neatly displayed - "Brahms's Lullaby" it was called.

"Oh, is the child a fan of Johannes Brahms?" Y/N asked with a soft smile on her face, as she gently traced her fingers over the keys. "Yes, he is. In fact, the child is called Brahms." the woman spoke a bit sharply, looking her up and down with eyes that almost seemed...Judging, for some reason. "What a lovely name. When will I meet little Brahmsy?" she asked, and as soon as she used that nickname, the woman's jaw got set, and Y/N could swear she was gritting her teeth in anger at her. "...Brahms. His name is Brahms. You will meet him right now. Come on." the woman went on ahead and opened a room, where a doll was sitting in a chair, neatly dressed like a gentleman, while next to him, crouching, an elderly man, who she could only assume was the woman's husband, the master of the house. "Oh, my dear Brahms...This is Y/N, she is here to be your new nanny. Miss L/N, this us Brahms, and he will decide whether he accepts you or not." ...a doll? She...Has to babysit...A doll? Well...The pay is good, and she's veeeery far away from her old home, so...No new beginning happens within your comfort zone, right? "Hello, Brahms, it's great meeting you. I hope we'll get along well." with a sweet smile on her face, Y/N crouched down if front of the chair and took the little hand of the doll, shaking it carefully. "...Fine enough. Now, could you give us some time alone? Brahms will decide now." with that look on her face, while the old man looked at her with pity, and...Relief, maybe? Y/N exited the room, only to see a man standing in front of her, wearing an amiable smile. "Oh, hello there, you must be the new nanny. I'm Malcom, the delivery boy. Well, delivery man. Nice to meet you." very charming... "Ah, yes, I've heard about you. My name is Y/N, nice meeting you as well." she replied politely, although she could sense the flirt he was failing to put forward. "If you want, some day, I can show you around the town. It's small, but kinda pretty." he continued in the same manner, and Y/N replied with simple answers, until finally, the woman opened the door widely, with an even wider smile. "Brahms has decided that you are suitable to be his new nanny, congratulations." how the human behaviour can change so drastically, doing a whole 180, in a split second. "Thank you so much for accepting me, Brahms! I'm sure we'll get along well!" Y/N clapped her hands together to her chest in a cheerful manner, as the elder man left as well, allowing his wife some more farewell words with the doll. "Here, I made you a simplified list of rules you must follow. You don't have to wake up at 7 in the morning every day like my wife told you, but you must make sure all of these are taken care of, alright, miss L/N?" the man asked, handing her the paper which she attentively read. "Yes, of course, I will do as instructed without fail. Thank you for having trust in me with your dear Brahms. Have a lovely trip and I hope you get a well-deserved rest!" Y/N wished them, and for a split second, she almost thought the man's eyes flashed with shock and sorrow. What was going on anyway...? This family is...Peculiar, to say the least. Well, no matter, she will be paid weekly, and with the pretty generous amount she earned while working as a doctor, she should be able to afford anything she'd want, so she won't get bored.

And so, the Heelshires left, and she was all alone with the doll - Y/N decided to make her new bedroom to her liking, as much as possible, with Brahms sitting on a nightstand, as she was humming whatever tune that went in her mind, and swaying carefreely.

"You know, Brahms? I wasn't expecting you to be a doll. But frankly, I think this is better. Children are annoying...But you? You're really nice. And you're not loud or obnoxious. I think we'll be great friends." speaking to a doll...I guess that's how far in my loneliness I've gotten. Tragic, really...She thought as she realised how much of a crazy person she'd look like, were someone to see her. "Since it's already evening, let's go make some really good dinner, and then we can play the piano a bit? Maybe even watch a movie together?" she picked up the doll and went to the kitchen, and looking in the fridge, then at the utensils available, she put together a nice dinner, and put it split in two plates, one for her, and one for the doll, and to keep away the boring silence that hung painfully throughout the house, she put on some LoFi music on her phone, and ate, feeling more peace now than she ever did. "Hmmm...I know your mum told me to put the food in the freezer...But it's better eaten while still warm. I don't think you'll like it if it's stone cold...So, I'll leave it here, on the table, and see how it is. If you don't like it, and you want me to put it in the fridge, just tell me, and I'll do as advised." ...Just tell me? JUST TELL ME? Girl, are you out of your mind?! As if a doll could speak...

After she washed her plate, fork and knife, she picked up the doll once again, and went to the music room, putting the doll on the piano, and cracking her fingers, she let them glide over the claviature, creating a beautiful melody echo through the room, and maybe Y/N didn't realise, but she had a glowing smile on her face, and she visibly relaxed and felt at ease, as if she was flying through the fluffy clouds.

"I haven't done this in so long, I'm surprise I'm not rustier. I hope you liked it too, Brahmsy. Now, let's go to be. Do you want to sleep in my room? Come on, I'm a bit anxious to sleep by myself in this huge, creepy house." she mused as she got to her room, carefully putting the doll on her pillow and after going to the bathroom to change in her cutesy Unicorn Pusheen nightgown, and turning on her laptop, she put on Harry Potter, one of her comfort movies, and cuddling with the doll, she gave it a little kiss before getting engulfed in the story once again, and falling asleep without realising.

Everything was peaceful in the house in the morning, until Y/N reached the kitchen to make some light breakfast, only to find a paper on the table, with beautiful cursive writing in ink on it.

"Warm is better, thank you :) "

Frankly speaking, it freaked her our enough to get a panic attack and barricade herself in her room for the whole day, her bedroom locked and too afraid to leave that place for the whole day.

Oops.

After this, days on end, and then weeks passed by uneventfully, as Y/N took care of Brahms with no problem, Malcom came by to give her the groceries, the pay and anything that she'd order online, she'd chat with some old friends, would watch movies, would go out to plant flowers and tend to the garden, would dance around, happy to bask in the warm Summer sun, would read whatever books she likes, with the doll in her lap, and she realised that she never felt more relaxed and free in her life.

It was pretty cool not having to work for money, huh?

But one day, when she was out in the garden, barefoot and with a cute, flower dress on, her long, beautiful hair, accessorised with a colourful flower crown, and she was dancing to the music on her phone, she noticed a figure somewhere from the forest. It was unmoving, almost as if it was staring, and it startled Y/N. It startled and frightened her so much that she quickly picked up the doll and went inside the house, making sure all windows and doors are properly locked, and the drapes are closed, so nobody could get in.

That night, she kneeled on the bad, an upset frown on her face, as she felt her eyes watering slightly, looking down at the porcelain doll of the little boy.

"It's moments like this when I hoped you were human, Brahmsy. Not a child...But a man. I'm scared...I'm so scared...I don't like being alone. There was some creep outside in the forest, and it was staring at us. What do I do, Brahmsy? What am I supposed to do...?" as she felt a few tears streaming down her face, she sighed, hanging her head down, raking her fingers down her face in mild desperation. "...Who am I kidding, you're just a doll, you're not human. Why the hell do I even bother. I'm going to die here, sooner or later..." her voice was filled with dread and resignation as she got under the covers, clinging onto the doll as if her very life depended on it.

Since that very day, she continued seeing the silhouette of a tall man, standing there, menacingly stalking her every single day, from different places, until she heard the phone ring, and reluctantly, she answered.

"...Hello? Who is there...?" she muttered, gripping the phone anxiously, awaiting and answer. "You don't recognise the voice of the man that made you feel good every night?" her breath stopped completely hearing that awful voice she hoped never to hear again. Instead of answering, she slammed the phone down.

But it rang again.

And again.

Until it drove her mad and she disconnected it completely.

It wasn't like anyone would call her anyway, and if they wanted to contact her, then they could text her on her private phone, or on social media.

Why can't she just get some peace anywhere? She just wanted to get away from all hell she was put through at home...But now, it seemed like Hell was inclined to follow her to the ends of the world.

The stress and fright from this increased when she received multiple pictures of herself from either outside the house, or even inside, which is when she realised the stalked from outside was, in fact, the one who called her on the phone. It was her horrible ex.

And one horrible night, as she gripped on the doll to dear life, walking down the corridors of the huge manor, checking for the thousandth time that everything is locked tight, she heard a noise.

What was she supposed to do...? She couldn't run out of the house, everything was locked...And could she hide? Not really, she was sure he'd check all the rooms without fail.

So...What could she do except try to hide in her room?

She waited in her wardrobe, knowing very well that, if he were to get inside her bedroom, he would check every nook and cranny, but even so, she felt safer in a cramped, tight place, than outside in such an open room.

Mere seconds felt like outright centuries, she heard the door slam open, making her jump in fright, her hand to her mouth, so she'd muffle any sound she'd potentially make from her hyperventilating. She knew, it would be long before he checked the wardrobe, but gosh...The anticipation made her anxiety skyrocket.

Until it finally happened.

Y/N found herself being dragged from inside her safe place by the hair, thrown to the ground, but not once did she let go of the doll that became some sort of a comfort object for her.

"So that's where you were, Y/N! I missed you! It's been a while, hasn't it?" oh no, that overly sweet voice...It's nothing but poison. It was so bad that her bottom lip started quivering with fear as she tried to crawl away from there, but obviously, to no avail. "Wheeeere are you going, darling? Didn't you miss me? Come on, give me a hug!" he grinned, grabbing her and trapping her in his arms, and she couldn't help but tremble in disgust and fear as she felt his hands roaming in places it shouldn't. "Why aren't you talking to me? Why aren't you saying anything? Come on, let me hear you voice! ...DO SOMETHING, DAMN IT!" ah, his facade crumbled much faster than expected, and that aggressive scream in her face as he roughly pushed her in the wardrobe door made her whimper and wrap herself around the doll, trying not to let tears fall down her face and just...Praying for all this to be over...To be just a nightmare..."What the fuck is with that doll anyway? Why do you cling on it, and not on me? Give that here." but she didn't let go, and seeing how she was opposing him, he forcefully grabbed her face before slapping her before snatching away the doll from her arms. "Sheesh...It's so fucking ugly. No wonder you stay with this, it's the only thing that would stay with someone like you. So ugly, dumb, annoying...You should be grateful that I'm here! Nobody in this world wants you! You're worthless and you deserve nothing. Do you hear me? You ARE nothing! Better thank me nicely for coming all the way here for you! Nobody would bother doing ANYTHING for you!" he yelled at her, as she cradled her face, crying, but also fearing being seen crying, remembering how bad it would get. "Don't her Brahms...Please...Please don't hurt him..." she begged and pleaded over and over, but it only seemed to ignite more anger in his eyes. "You only beg me with that sweet voice of yours...To save your stupid...Thing? Really, Y/N? You're pathetic. You're stupid. You're disgusting. Fuck you and fuck your stupid doll!" and with that, the jerk started slamming the fragile porcelain doll on the wall, ignoring the desperate pleas from the girl. "NO! NOOOOOOOO! No....! Brahms, no...! What has he done to you..." Y/N crawled to the place where the doll's porcelain head was slammed apart, and she let tears fall over as, with shaky hands, she tried to piece together the overly-fragmented head, only to get pulled back by the hair and slammed on the ground, as he pushed himself upon her, his hands grabbing at her exposed flesh, her light nightgown offering close to no protection from the lecherous predator, and her weak, noodle arms, just like before, offered no resistance to his significantly stronger, bulkier built, and no matter how much she tried to fight back, she knew...She knew that struggling never helped, no matter how much she tried. It never did. And it only made it hurt more.

But then...Before she knew it, a loud noise, like that of an explosion, or destruction, came from somewhere in the room, startling the poor girl enough to make her scream in fright, while the predator jumped to his feet looking at the hole in the wall...

Only for a pair of hands to slowly creep out of the wall, tredging along the wooden walls, and then, a head wearing a porcelain mask creepily got out, followed by 2 legs and a body. It seemed to be a man, very tall - In fact, taller than her ex - , but while yes, his dramatic entrance startled the two, the man only got angrier, ready to fight the intruder, while the petite girl only got more frightened by the commotion, dragging herself in the safest corner of the room, shaking, guarding her head with both her arms, hoping again and again that this was all a nightmare, and it would end already - It was beginning to look so much more incredible, like a weird fantasy movie...This can't be real, right?!

"Y/N! Help me!" the voice of a child called out her name, almost strangled and desperate, and peeking at the brawl on the ground, she noticed her ex trying to strangle the stranger, whose head was leaning, his eyes fixated on hers.

He went out of the wall as soon as she got attacked...He was trying to protect her...Maybe? So...She got up, trying not to attract the attention of her ex, and taking ahold of the lamp on her nightstand, she brought it down hard against her ex's head, making him groan in pain...But he didn't fall. He didn't faint, like you see in movies. Instead, he got up, glaring at the meek girl and snatched away the lamp, throwing it away.

"You fucking bitch...Now you've done it." his voice was so dark that she was sure this was game over, so she bolted out of the room as fast as she could, but the labyrinthine house was impossible to navigate, and before she knew it, she found herself in a dead end, with no escape.

However, instead of seeing her ex with the wrath of a raging bull, she noticed the stranger slowly making his way towards her, his shoulder slouched, his dirty, once white, tank top now splattered with fresh blood, as is the rest of his outfit. But his hands were up, almost as if to say that he 'surrenders', as he stepped right in front of the trembling girl.

"Please don't kill me. Please don't hurt me. Please, please, please, I will leave you alone, I will go away, I will do want you want, please don't hurt me." even her voice was shaky, her arms crossed to protect her face, and her eyes closed in fear, so she didn't notice the curly haired man slowly crouching down in front of her, his head tilting slowly, before he gingerly grasped her wrists, pulling them away with such gentleness that she never knew. It was so weird for someone to be so careful with her body...With her...That she opened her eyes, doe-like, looking at the man's wide eyes that peered through his mask. "I am Brahms." but this time, his voice wasn't like that of a child, but not did it sound rough and hoarse, like her ex's. It was soft and delicate, masculine, but not too much. It was soothing. And what Brahms once saw to be the most frightened eyes, remembering how scared Bambi was when his mother died, yet now, they had more of a curious spark. "I won't hurt you. I promise. Don't leave." the once tense girl visibly relaxed under his touch, as he let go of her wrists and letting his knees touch the floor, he leaned forwards, between her legs, to get closer to her, and touched her face with both of his arms, wiping away her tears, surprised at how soft her skin was...Is it was a flower petal feels like? He remembers overly descriptive books where women are seen as different delicate things...A flower, a fawn, a butterfly, a nightingale, the Moon, and so many others...And he could finally understand why. "You are safe now." he continued, thinking it would make the girl smile, but instead, even more tears leaked down her face, and she threw her arms around his neck, bringing him closer to her, his body flushed to hers...And he stood there, stiff, shocked at the situation he was in.

What was he supposed to do now? Touch was so foreign to him...But he loved it so much! It was so warm, it made him happy! He wanted the girl to be closer and closer to him. He remembers what she did daily to his doll - What was it called...A cuddle? - Yes, he wanted that. He NEEDED that.

He hated that man touching her - He was hurting her - Only HE can touch her. He deserved to die. He deserved to fuck off. All he has to do is get rid of the body, and the rest can go on as it always has been - Except, instead of Y/N cuddling the doll, she will cuddle him every night, and she will kiss him.

"Thank you, Brahmsy. Thank you. Thank you so much." she continued thanking him over and over again, but he didn't answer. Instead, his hands slowly made their way on her waist, then went to the curvature of her hips, then to her thighs, and without any warning, he lifted her up, indirectly forcing her to glue herself to him even more - Not before hearing her cute squeal of surprise - And he carried her to one of the guest bedrooms, shivering a bit as he felt her warm breath on his bare neck - It excited him, but he didn't understand really what it was - But it was enough to make him bite his lip behind the mask and his grip on her thighs strengthened a bit, under the pretext of making sure she doesn't fall by mistake.

Luckily, he reached the bedroom and closing the door behind, he got in bed, holding her close as she stood in his lap, so close that he could feel her rapid heartbeat slowing down little by little. It was no misunderstanding, she was getting more and more comfortable around him. He was her protector, and he wasn't going to let anyone hurt her ever again. She was his. Nobody else's. Only his.

They stood like that for a while, just holding each other and calming down, before Brahms turned the both of them to the side, and he hugged her tightly to his chest, playing with her hair, not letting her go for the whole night. His embrace was warm, and Y/N felt so safe - As never before, not even in her parents' home. She felt...Good.

The next day, she woke up still in Brahms's arms. She wasn't sure if he woke up or not, but she leaned to plant a soft kiss on the forehead of the mask, as she raked her fingers through his dark, curly hair, but before she knew it, a pair of arms wrapped around her torso, hugging her close to his chest.

"Good morning, Brahms. Did you sleep well?" her sleepy voice was so cute...He wanted to wake like this every day...As an answer, he merely nodded. "I'm happy to hear that. Come on, we have to eat breakfast, then take a shower...And after that, we can do whatever we want. Sounds good?" she asked, getting up and holding his arms, urging him to follow her. "No shower!" ah, the childish voice again, I see... "Then...How about I shower with you? I have some cute rubber duckies, if you want." she tried to appeal to his inner child, which seemed to pique his interest. "...Only if you wash me." he muttered, making the girl chuckle. "Okay, sure, sure. Let's eat something first. I think there's some milk and cereal." she remembered how much she loved to eat that every morning before going to school, when she was little.

She prepared two bowls and they ate in silence, until Brahms muttered that he wants to hear the music she usually puts when eating - And grinning at him, she put on LoFi music once again, which seemed to make the boy happy too.

After that, they went to the bathroom, and while Brahms waited for the tub to get filled, Y/N went to get the clothes in the washing machine, while getting some fresh clothes for the both of them. Apparently, he actually had other clothes, he just didn't want to bother washing or changing...For who knows how long...

As Brahms got in the tub, only briefs on, playing with the duckies, Y/N kneeled by the tub, taking the flower-scented showed gel and the sponge.

"Get in the tub too." Brahms put his arms on the tub edge, leaning his chin on them, looking at her attentively. "We don't have much space in the tub." she explained, but he had none of it. Instead, he rose from underneath the water, picked her up with a weird ease, and got her in the tub, not before splashing her, so her nightgown was soaked so she couldn't protest anymore. "...Fine, you got me. Let me clean you, then." she shook her head with a sigh as she heard him chuckle, gripping her wrists and pulling her to sit on his lap. Did he really like it that much, she wondered. "Can I shave your chest and neck, Brahms?" she asked as she trailed her hands over his chest, shoulders and arms, scrubbing with a sponge, one hand always finding its way on either her hip or her leg. The answer came in the form of a nod, and she reached to the sink to get a shaving blade and very carefully, making sure not to irritate his skin, or cut him by mistake, she cut down the overgrown, stinky, unwashed hair. In the end, his skin was finally clean and soft and smelling like roses and vanilla. "Let me sit behind you, I have to wash your hair." he seemed pretty exited, feeling her legs on either side of him, his head leaning back so her fingers could work miracles - He felt in heaven - He was so spoiled, and he loved every second of it. The shampoo smelled really nicely too, he had to admit. But her fingers massaging his scalp...Ahhh, it was so perfect, he was almost sure he'd fall asleep. "Let me wash you too!" he said, and in a split second, he could feel the girl's body stiffen, her eyes going wide, and her face...It was beginning to turn pink...? Was she...Blushing? "Ah, uhm...Well...Y-You can wash my hair, if you want?" she was stuttering! So cute! So cute, in fact, that he pinched both her cheeks, and they felt like marshmallows. "H-Hey, stop, that hurts." she pouted as he teased her. He loved that. "Yay!" Brahms cheered as he got her back glued to his chest, his hand gingerly tracing her neck, making her lean her head back, just as he did...But why did he like the sight of his hand wrapped around her neck? He didn't want to hurt her...But the visual was getting him feel weird things.

He followed the same routine as she did to him - Massaging her scalp, putting shampoo, rinsing, then this...Conditioner? Oh, it smelled nicely...And this is called...Hair mask? Ah, this is coconut scented! And she is smiling! She has a kitty smile! She looks like a cute little kitty!

After the bath time was over, Y/N wrapped him in a bathrobe, and while he wasn't paying attention, she quickly took off her nightgown and put another bathrobe on tying it tightly, and guiding the man back to their room, so she could use a hair dryer to dry both their hair, before brushing it neatly, so they could dress up...And he insisted she dressed in that cute, flowy, flower-patterned dress

"There, all good. What do you want to do now, Brahmsy? Do you want to go in the garden and see the flowers?" she asked, a bright smile on her face, both her hands holding his, and he could see her eyes were basically glimmering, pleading him to go out with her...But he hated the outside...Hmmm...

He grumbled a bit, but ultimately, he let himself be dragged outside - He hissed a bit, as if he was a vampire getting burnt by the sun, but after a while...He didn't find it that bad...? And the flowers in the garden were so pretty...!

"Hey, Brahms, take off your shoes and socks. Feel the grass. It will make you feel so calm and peaceful...Here, how do you feel?" she asked, intertwining her fingers with his. "It's...It tickles." he muttered, looking down and wiggling his toes to get used to it. "Come sit down with me. Watching the clouds is really relaxing." she said, helping him sit down, then laying on their backs. Instead of staying apart, however, Brahms pulled her close to his chest, her head resting on his shoulder. "...But it's kinda boring..." he muttered, as he started kneading her arm up and down, massaging it from sheer boredom. "Look, Brahmsy, that cloud looks like a bunny, don't you think?" she put her finger up in the air, pointing to one of the clouds passing by. "Ah! You're right! And that one looks like a dragon! And that one looks like a butterfly! Look, Y/N, it's so pretty!" his boredom dissipated quickly and it got replaced by excitement instead - Very wholesome, the girl thought as she looked at the person next to her getting so happy over such simple things.

They stood outside until evening came, and they could watch the beautiful sunset, the sky painted with the most gorgeous shades there are. "Let's get inside, dear, it's getting cold. We don't want to get sick, right?" she smiled at him, only for him to hang his head down, and then he took off his cardigan and put it over her shoulders and pulled the girl between his legs, her back glued to his broad, warm chest and his embrace made her feel so warm and at ease. "Brahmsy...?" she asked softly, tilting her head up, before feeling his chin on top of her head, but she was met with silence. "The stars are pretty. You are pretty. Y/N is the prettiest, brightest star. Y/N is my star. I love my star." his soft voice was heard, almost whispery, and after a few more seconds, she felt the softest, sweetest kiss on her hair, then on her temple and on her cheek, before his chin found its place back on her head. "I love you, Brahms." she said, with teary eyes, intertwining her fingers to his, pulling his arms closer to her and squeezing his hands. "And I've never loved anyone more than I love you."

Needless to say, that comment made the man giddy and happy, for he, too, felt happiest now than he ever did before. When they felt tired, Brahms picked the girl up and got her back to their now shared room, dressed in their sleeping wear and cuddled, yet this time, Y/N was holding him, his head resting on her chest, as she played with his hair, soothing, and humming a lullaby to help him sleep.

It was Brahms's Lullaby.

#brahms #brahms heelshire #brahms x reader #brahms imagine #brahms heelshire x reader #brahms heelshire imagine #brahms the boy #the boy imagine #the boy #the boy x reader #brahms heelshire the boy #brahms the boy x reader #slasher #slasher boyfriend #slasher imagine #slasher x reader #slasher boyfriend imagine #slasher boyfriend x reader

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donutloverxo · 4 years

Text

Temptations

Note - For the lovely @justagirlinafandomworld 's challenge! And for my sweet fellow hoes @stargazingfangirl18 and @navybrat817

Hope y'all like it❤❤ Also a prequel of sorts to new years eve.

Summary - You know you only want him because you can't have him. But you still can't help yourself.

Warnings - smut, cheating, spanking, name calling, light anal stuff, like a small mention of choking (blink and you'll miss it).

Prompts - "I was fine before I met you" + Toxic cover by Sofia Karlberg for @justagirlinafandomworld

"Did you just....smack my ass?" + "Shh...be good for me" for navy and siri.

Pairing - Ransom Drysdale x reader

Word count - 4k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

Your mother always told you to find a man who could take care of you.

Love doesn’t bring food on the table or a roof over your head.

Don’t be like your sister.

Don’t let those Disney movies fool you.

This is a materialistic world and money is the universal language.

As a kid it was annoying. Even more so when you fell for a guy, who your mother certainly didn’t approve of, who ended up breaking your heart into a million little pieces.

You learned as a teen; that the fairytales did lie to you. Love isn’t some magical force which is completely out of one’s control. You could love anyone if you tried hard enough.

Having grown up poor you always yearned for those sparkly things. So you made sure to make friends with some rich kids in college. But deep down you knew they only ever saw you as a charity case. A story, a means to diversify their social circle.

Which is why you took your mothers advice. Trapped your college roommates brother. Bryce. He was alright. But nothing more than that. You did care for him. But you lied whenever you told him that he was more to you. That he was a part of you.

Your soul ached every time you said ‘I love you’ to him. Because you didn’t mean it. It was all a lie. A farce. You wondered if he loved you as much as he claimed he did.

Even though you knew the answer. He didn’t.

He was the black sheep of his family. You knew he only dated you to get some sort of revenge on them. Wanting to be different and go against the flow. He secretly relished in how much his mother hated you. How you weren’t from old money. Or any sort of money.

As if being rich inherently makes you worthy.

Which was also why he had bought you along to meet his friends.

That’s when you saw him.

You knew he was trouble the minute you laid eyes on him. His chestnut hair swept back. The blue cable knit sweater he wore bringing out the blue of his cold hard eyes. Which also really did nothing to hide his large frame.

His long tan coat swirled around as he walked towards you. It was something you noticed. He walked with purpose. As if he owned the damn place.

You watched Bryce embrace him in a tight hug. They were apparently friends since middle school. You gulped down cowering under his intense gaze as he shook your hand.

You exhaled a shaky breathe, the warmth his hand electrifying your nerves. You quickly excused yourself, afraid that you were being too obvious about your instant attraction to him. That if you stayed in the vicinity of him you’d do something you would come to regret later.

You came out to the garden. Taking in the fresh air. Away from the rich people. And their suffocating stench.

You jumped when you heard Ransom call out your name.

You turned around to look at him. Only now he had shed his coat and sweater and was only dressed in a tight white shirt. Which was really messing with your head.

“You don’t like the party?” He asked. Very aware of the effect he had on you. It wasn’t very hard to tell. You weren’t exactly being subtle.

“Oh uh... that’s not it. I just needed some air.” You nodded to yourself. Playing with your hands to keep occupied as he stepped closer to you. Crowding you with the musky scent of his cologne.

“You mind if I keep you company?” He asked but he didn’t really expect an answer. With the way you refused to even look at his face he doubted you’d give him one.

He bought his hand up to play with your hair. Twirling a strand between his fingers. “I hope to see you this Christmas.” He smirked at the cute confused expression you gave him after you finally looked up at him. “We’re going to the Bahamas? Ring any bells?” He said as if he was talking to a child. You only shook your head no. “I’ll make sure Bryce brings you along then.” He drawled tracing your cheek and jaw with his finger.

“Ransom what’re you doing?” You stammered looking around to make sure no one was around.

“I’m not doing anything.” He shrugged parting your lips with his thumb.

“Yes you are!” You scolded him but kept your voice low. “Someone will see.” You tried to take his hand off of your face but it only made him grab a tight hold of your jaw.

“Now don’t play all innocent with me.” He laughed cruelly as you hissed under his harsh touch. “I saw those fuck me eyes you were giving me.” He leaned in so close to you that you could feel his hot breath fanning on your face. “What? You think you can just tease anyone you want and get away with it? It might work on other idiots but not me.”

You squirmed in his hold, fighting him to free yourself. But he was much stronger than you.

He sneered at your resistance and leaned in to whisper in your ear. “I’ll see you this Christmas.” He said. His tone letting on that he wasn’t done with you. He abruptly let go of you giving you a grin and walking away.

You stuck by Bryce’s side the rest of the night. You thought Ransom wouldn’t try anything when Bryce was right there. But the way Bryce was fawning over ransom you had a feeling he probably would let Ransom fuck you in front of him.

You were almost impressed by how charming and casual he was when spoke to you in front of Bryce and all his friends. No one would suspect a thing.

Hell he had you fooled. Was the encounter in the garden your imagination? Was your mind playing tricks on you.

You decided that it absolutely wasn’t when you felt Ransom pinch your behind as he helped you into the uber. You gasped loudly plumping down in the backseat. Staring at Ransom completely take aback.

“You okay babe.” You heard Bryce mumbled beside you, his eyes shut as he leaned against the glass window. Too drunk to notice what was going on right next to him.

“Yeah you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Ransom put his hand on your shoulder. A faux look of concern on his face.

“I’m totally fine!” You held your breathe trying to close your door but his huge body was blocking it.

“Make sure to bring this one along Bryce.” He was speaking to Bryce but his eyes were glued to you. “You have a good night sweetheart.”

You sat completely still not moving a single muscle as he pressed a light barely there kiss to your cheek.

You felt like you could finally breathe after getting far, far away from him.

You made a thousand excuses trying your best to convince Bryce that you just can’t make it. But he wasn’t having any of it.

“I never ask you for anything. I don’t know. Maybe we’re not the right fit for each other.” He had said threatening to break up with you.

You found yourself resenting him even more. How he couldn’t stand up to his 'friend’ and just say no. That you can’t make it. How hard could it possibly be?

You didn’t know who was more pathetic. You or Bryce.

How even after how sleazy Ransom acted around you, you still found yourself thinking of him whenever you dipped your fingers between your thighs. How you wished with every fibre of your being to just let him have his way with you. Why can’t you be bad just this once?

You were down right terrified of ransom maybe the thrill was the reason you were so attracted to him. Giving you an adrenaline rush you actually mistook for any sort of attraction. Or at least that’s how you choose to justify it.

You arrived at your hotel before Ransom. Meeting up with a few of Bryce’s friends. Binging on margaritas. That you almost forgot about why you were so anxious in the first place.

Your joy didn’t last long. As he showed up. The first thing you noticed was how his hair was a few inches longer. No longer styled with gel, messed up from his flight. He only seemed to mess it up further as he ran a hand through his hair.

As you expected he was inconspicuous. Not giving you anymore attention than the others. Which only made you want him more.

Why would he just ignore you after giving you so much attention last time. Even if said attention was unwanted.

You didn’t dare look too long at him. You did steal some glances. He did catch you a couple of times. But if he noticed he didn’t let it show.

After the long day you had laid flat on your comfy mattress. Almost asleep when you felt Bryce’s prying hands working on taking off your dress.

“I’m so tired babe.” You pecked his lips hoping that’d be the end of it. You really were exhausted from the cat and mouse game you played with Ransom.

Bryce made a sound of disapproval. “I took you on such a nice vacation. The least you can do is say thank you.” He demanded.

Not really having it in you to argue any further with him, you got down on your knees and took him in your mouth. Working him up with your hands and tongue. He never could last that long and you knew all his weaknesses.

“God shit will you do something about your hair” He chided trying to bunch your hair up in a ponytail.

You rolled your eyes and looked for your hair tie. Tying your hair up in a haphazard ponytail before getting back to business. He finished in just a few minutes. Collapsing on his side of the bed. “Just wake me up in a few hours babe. I’ll take care of you then.” His words muffled by his pillow.

You could only scoff at that. As if. He had yet to make you cum even once. You had become quite the actress by faking it with him.

You decided to take a long shower to wash your long day off. You slipped your fingers in your heat. To take matters into your own hands.

You tried your best to think of a hot celebrity or literally anyone else but him. But your mind kept coming back to Ransom. How his huge wrist would look wrapped around your throat. How you could mess up his hair as he ate you out.

Ultimately you became too frustrated with yourself, thinking of someone else, your boyfriends friend at that, in such a an inappropriate way. This wasn’t like you.

You gave up. Knowing you wouldn’t find release. Not with the heavy guilt lingering in the back of your mind.

You couldn’t sleep. You kept tossing and turning. But then you’d had enough. You put on a robe and headed towards Ransoms room. You knocked on it twice before he opened the door.

He stood in just his boxer briefs in front of you. And you had to do everything in your power to keep your eyes on his face and not let them fall down. To feast on his broad chest, the dark hair splattered on it, his washboard abs and that damn happy trail.

“This better be good.” He growled. obviously too upset that you disturbed his sleep.

“I...” you trailed off letting your eyes wander to his chest and the trail of dark brown hair leading to his black, tight, boxers “just couldn’t sleep.” You continued trying your best to focus.

“Come on in then.” Just like that. That fucking smirk was back on his face.

You took a deep breathe walking into his room. Wondering what the fuck you were even doing here. “How have you been?” You tried to make small talk.

Turning around to look at him. In a split second, before you could even comprehend what was happening he crashed his lips on yours, stealing your breathe. You sighed moaning into the kiss as his tongue invaded your mouth. It was messy and sloppy and everything you’d ever want from a kiss.

You both pulled away when the need to breathe took over your need for each other.

You panted running your hands up and down his chest to feel him.

“Why are you really here?” He asked pulling your chin up to make you look at him. When you wouldn’t answer he snaked a hand into your shorts. Letting out a satisfied hum with just how wet you were.

You whimpered as his warm fingertips grazed your nether folds. Teasing you so cruelly. Not really giving you what you so desperately wanted. “You know why I’m here.” You purred.

“Not good enough. I’m gonna need you to fucking say it.” He spit pushing a finger inside you.

Your breath hitched as he added another one, staring at you intently as he pumped them in and out of you. “No!” You cried. Trying to pry his hand out of your sleep shorts. “This is wrong. No!”

“Stop it!” He chided pinching your clit as you winced. “You can act innocent all you want. But I know just how much of a slut you are. Look at this.” He captured your cries and whimpers in a kiss as he curled his fingers inside you “Look how fucking wet you are for me.” He said before kissing you again.

“No. That’s not true.” You whined shaking your head “I was fine before I met you!” You were good. He was the one that awoke something dark and primal inside you. This was all his fault.

He chuckled at your foolishness. He wondered if you really believed that. Not that it mattered to him. He added a third finger to stretch your tight heat, get you ready for him. But he couldn’t wait anymore. Not with just how painfully hard he was.

He pulled his fingers from your shorts and pushed you down on your knees. With little to no resistance, you kneeled in front of him.

He took his hard cock out of his uncomfortable briefs, smudging his precum on your lips. “You know what to do. Be a good slut.” He instructed pulling on your messy ponytail as you took his head in your mouth. Sucking on it thoroughly before taking all of him. He groaned knowing you would make him cum in just a few seconds with that hot mouth of yours. “I knew you’d make for a good cocksucker” He pushed you further down and laughed as you gagged around him.

He pulled you off of him, tugging on your hair. He would cum just at the sight of you. Your eyes glossy, cheeks wet with tears, saliva and cum smeared all over your face. He took your hair tie off and smirked at your messy state. He preferred you like that. Ruined because of him. And he hasn’t even started yet.

He urged you to stand by pulling on your forearm. He pushed you against the edge of his bed. “Take off your clothes. On your hands and knees.” He ordered. Impatiently getting rid of his briefs.

You hesitated for a moment but then cowered under his harsh stern gaze, that let you know he had no room for disobedience. With shaky hands you pulled your tank top up and tossed it aside. Repeating the same with your shorts. You gulped as he unabashedly ogled you.

Turning around you climbed on the bed. Crawling till you butt at the edge. You had never done anything in this position before. Bryce preferred letting you do all the work. To give up control, to someone like Ransom. Who made you feel scared more than aroused. Was unnerving to say the least.

You waited, your nipples hardened and your skin covered in goose bumps because of the cold and the anticipation. You expected him to sink in you. He was a lot bigger than anyone else you had ever taken. You had no idea if you could even fit him. You choked trying to fuck him with your mouth.

But then you felt his tongue prod your pluckered hole. You gasped jerking away from his touch but his firm grip on your hips kept you still.

“Anyone ever fucked you here before?” He asked pushing a finger and watching in awe as your asshole swallowed it. It was so tight, he could barely fit one finger in it. He couldn’t imagine how amazing he would feel wrapped up around it. He frowned at your lack of response. That kind of shit doesn’t fly with him.

He groped your plump ass cheek before raising his hand and slapping it harshly. “I asked you a question. I expect an answer.” He stated entranced by the redness of your skin, spanking the same cheek again. So he could leave a few bruises. Something for you to remember him by.

Not that there was any need, this certainly won’t be the last time, he had plans for your ass for the next time. Besides there was no way he could not have you now. Not after feeling your tight cunt around his fingers, which would only be tighter around his cock.

You gasped as you felt the sting of his slap, you looked back at him over your shoulder, wincing again as he delivered another slap. “Did you just...smack my ass?” You asked incredulously. You knew it was a kink for some people but you never thought you’d be taking part in it. Let alone like it way more than you should.

“Shh... be good for me.” He removed his forefinger and replaced it with his thumb. “Answer my question.” He urged.

You swallowed not really ready for any more spanks to your ass and how strangely good they make you feel. “No.” You replied. “No one’s ever fucked my ass.” You added for good measure, rolling your eyes.

“Good.” He hummed.

“Oh my!” You yelped as you felt his tongue nudge your cunt. Pressing inside he slowly fucked you with it. Your hands started shaking, you weren’t sure if you could hold on, his warm velvety tongue felt so good against your walls. Your vision became blurry as tears gathered in your eyes. Dropping on his pristine white sheets. You damn near lost it when he wrapped his mouth around your clit. Slightly pulling on it before harshly sucking on it. You sobbed so overwhelmed with pleasure. “Ransom!” You cried.

“What do you want sweetheart?” He cooed. His voice so dubiously sweet and caring.

“Just fuck me please.” You begged feeling as if your world was about to end, as if you were about to black out then and there as he suck on your bundle of nerves again, pushing his fingers in your cunt.

“What? I thought this was wrong?” He said with faux shock. “Why would you want someone who’s not your boyfriend to fuck you? You’re not making any sense honey.” He spit.

You pushed your head into the mattress, feeling him smirk against your pussy as he ate you out. You had never felt this good before. You had no idea how to handle it or what to do with it. You wondered just what was it about Ransom that made you putty in his hands.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.” You shook your head against the soft bedding. “Please fuck me.” You pleaded at the end of your rope.

He stood up straight. Groping your ass, which was perched up to him, presented so perfecty with your back arched. “Well since you asked so nicely.” He groaned loudly sinking in your tight, wet heat. “How the fuck are you so tight?” He wondered bottoming out. “So damn wet.” He muttered rolling his hips, rubbing his balls against your clit.

“I...” You spoke as if to answer him but couldn’t finish your thought, his skin rubbing against your oversensitive clit in the best way. You whimpered as he pulled his cock, leaving just his tip inside you, making you feel so empty so suddenly. You cried as you he harshly pushed back into you. You felt his large palm push you further into the mattress. His big, hard cock fucking you hard.

He kept up a steady fast pace. Eliciting loud moans and mewls from you. “Does he fuck you this hard?” He asked fastening his pace.

You tried to shake your head, but you couldn’t because of his firm hold on your head. “No he doesn’t.” You were pretty sure that after tonight you’d be ruined for any other man.

He grunted his hips stuttering as he felt your walls quiver around his length. You were close and so was he. “That’s it. Cum on my cock.” He moaned as he felt you clench around him, milking his cock for all he’s got. He gave you a few harsh thrusts before he spilled deep inside you.

You felt everything else around you slip into an abyss. You had never had an orgasm so mind boggling. One that left you so delirious. You moaned hugging the comforted close to you as you felt him spill his warm spend inside you. Making your sensitive walls tingly. You clenched around his softening shaft to keep him inside you. So tired but already ready for another fuck.

He groaned as he felt you clench around him, he smacked your other cheek before pulling out of you. He spread your ass cheeks to see his creamy cum spill out of your swollen cunt. He pushed it back inside and chuckled as you mewled.

He hummed stopping his ministrations to toss your clothes back to you. “Get dressed.” He instructed before going around the bed lay back on his side. He felt you sit up beside him. He looked at you staring at him expectedly. “What did you think we were gonna cuddle?” He scoffed “Do you want him to find out?” He wanted to know.

You shook your head no. Which made...sad? No not sad. Why would it. He doesn’t give a shit who you date or fuck. Not as long as he gets what he wants from you. “Then leave before he finds out you’re gone. I don’t do the girlfriend thing.” He said shutting his eyes so he wouldn’t see your nude body or be tempted to take you again.

You hummed putting your tank and shorts on. “...bye then.” You said awkwardly and turned around to leave. You gasped when you felt him wrap a hand around your waist pulling you back to sit on the bed.

“Don’t think we’re done yet.” You shivered as he whispered in your ear. His body warm against your back. “You better be back here tomorrow. Or else.” He let go of you letting the threat linger in the air as you nodded and got up on shaky feet.

Yeah. He was far from done with you.

Tags will be in the reblogs! If you want in on the taglist click the link in the bio or shoot me an ask/dm.

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers

OwO I swear I didn't know back then that Chris' character in fierce people is also called Bryce. Who's somehow worse than Ransom and that's really something else.

Please note that my work is NOT to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

#shamelesshoesforchris #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x ofc #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x reader #steve rogers x reader

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morganaspendragonss · 3 years

Text

dealing in danger

for the wonderful erin's birthday!!! (@halsteadmarchs) this is literally nothing like your original prompt skdshjkl hence why i made it into a new post but i hope you like it!!!

i did however manage to include the dialogue prompt you requested! 40 - "Hasn't this addiction done enough damage already?" from the angst section of this list

title from can you hear me by anson seabra

ao3 | 1.9k | pre-series, drug addiction, overdose, questionable parenting decisions

TK is not supposed to be hearing this. Not that his parents have ever seemed to care about what he does or doesn’t hear; his entire childhood was spent listening to the harsh whispers that drifted through through the walls and doors of their apartment. He could tune them out, if he chose, but these days the arguments seem to increasingly be about him, and TK thinks he has a right to know about his own life.

Especially when so little of it seems to belong to him anymore.

He’s been living under lock and key ever since he fucked up and accidentally left his stash out in the open a week ago. It was a rookie mistake, but in his defense, he’d been pretty fucking high at the time. Granted, that defense hadn’t gone over particularly well with his mother, but TK thinks it’s a valid excuse. He’d woken up that morning to a pounding headache and a dry mouth and his parents waiting for him on the couch with several baggies of pills in front of them. He’d pretty much been dragged straight to the doctor’s, and he’d only managed to avoid a stint in rehab by some miracle.

Said miracle being, an impassioned plea to his dad and a promise that TK had no intention of keeping to play things by his rules. His mom had tried to object, but TK is an adult, more or less, and he lives with his dad anyway. She can hardly enforce something she’s not around to bear witness to.

Or, at least, that was the theory. In reality, his mom has been here most days, and at least three quarters of those days have featured an argument over their different approaches to this situation.

“You know it will end up worse for him if we force it!” his dad is saying, probably violently gesturing towards TK’s room.

“And if we don’t?” his mom demands, her tone matching his exactly. “Our son has clearly been doing this for long enough that he knows how to hide it from us; what makes you think that you can control it now when you’ve obviously failed to up until now?”

“Oh, that’s rich! TK has two parents, you know!”

“He lives under your roof! He probably did drugs right under your nose; maybe if you were ever home, you would have noticed!”

And so it goes.

It’s the same every time—his parents passing the blame back and forth, ultimately getting nowhere and only really serving to piss each other off more. TK is kind of tired of it, but it’s pretty much the only entertainment he gets these days, so.

He’s kind of just waiting for the day when they realise that things were better before. Back when he was at one friend or another’s house getting high and they never had to bother about keeping an eye on him. No-one could deny that those days had been happier, for all of them.

But, hey, it’s not as if they want TK’s opinion anyway. It’s only his life and all.

“Hasn’t this addiction done enough damage already?”

That’s new. TK sits up straight, ear practically pressed to the door to hear; his dad seems to have finally realised that he can hear their every word, and has adjusted his volume accordingly.

His mom seems just as lost. “What are you talking about, Owen?”

“Have you looked at our son recently?” There’s something hard in his dad’s voice that TK has never heard before, not even when they found out about the drugs, and it takes him aback. “He’s not well.”

“Which is why he needs to be in rehab—”

“Which is why he needs to be with us. Come on, Gwyn, you think this whole thing isn’t our fault?”

TK raises a brow. In reality, the drugs had probably only been a quarter about his parents, if that, but it’s classic Owen Strand to think that the world revolves around him.

“I know that.”

And classic Gwyneth Morgan to agree with him.

“We were never there for him, and now look where we are. You said it yourself—none of us even noticed that he was...what he was doing. It was an accident that we did find out. If we send him away for months, he’s not going to see it as us trying to help him; he’s going to see it as us not wanting to deal with him.

“TK looks bad now, but imagine what time there would do to him. His addiction has already hurt us all enough; now it’s time for us to start managing that. You know I’m right, Gwyn.”

There’s a long pause after his dad has finished speaking before his mother mumbles something that TK takes to be an agreement. He’s not listening now anyway, his father’s words on repeat in his mind.

Hasn’t this addiction done enough damage already?

He’s not well.

...hurt us all enough

He’s right. His dad is right.

TK has hurt his parents enough. And he’s pretty sure that his dad knows he’s already figuring out a plan to go back to the drugs; he’s just choosing to ignore it because he doesn’t want to believe it.

But there’s a simple solution to this, and TK doesn’t know why he didn’t see it before.

He’s the problem, so to fix it, he just needs to not be around.

Simple.

So, that night, TK quietly steals the cash from his dad’s wallet, picks the lock on the apartment door, and creeps out into the night.

It’s pathetically easy to not be found if you don’t want to be. TK knows that by now his parents will have gone through every possible channel to find him, but he’s abandoned all his old haunts and used his dad’s money to get as far away from Manhattan as possible. He makes sure to keep outside of the 252’s service area, changes his name, and even buys some hair dye and new clothes to reduce the chances of him being recognised as fair as possible.

He has no money left by the time he feels safe, but that’s okay. There are other ways of paying for what he needs, after all.

TK survives almost two weeks in his new life. He steals food, grabs dropped money, and sleeps on the streets, or sometimes in a bed if that’s what his dealer of choice prefers for that night. It’s obviously nowhere near as comfortable as his old life was, but needs must, and TK knows how to adapt.

Anyway, at least he’s not trapped with his parents and their constant arguing anymore. At least he can get Oxy pretty much when he wants, in exchange for a quick fuck or two. And he knows that he can’t keep this up indefinitely. He knows that, sooner or later, his choices are going to catch up with him.

Thing is, TK gave up on old age a long time ago. Live fast, die young—that’s how it goes, right? It doesn’t sound so bad to him.

Or, it doesn’t, until his mistakes do finally find him again.

That night, he does his usual business, a baggie of pills for him, a blowjob for his dealer, and then it’s over. He’ll be on the streets tonight—apparently his dealer had ‘other matters’ to take care of—but TK doesn’t mind. It’s a balmy night, and alleyways can be surprisingly cosy if you know how to make them so.

Drugs, it turns out, work a treat.

TK doesn’t bother inspecting the pills as he tips them back, dry swallowing one after the other. Even if he had, it’s doubtful that he would have noticed anything off—and, later, he has to wonder if he would have cared if he had.

Slowly, the high begins to wash over him, and TK feels happy. He’s flying, but then it feels like something slams into him, and panic seizes his chest as he crashes back down to earth.

His body isn’t moving—TK can’t move—but he has this swooping sensation in his stomach and dread growing slowly in him. Something is horribly, horribly wrong, but his brain can’t think beyond helpcan’tbreathedyingDAD—

TK twitches and chokes, and then there’s no time for thinking anything as his head drops to his chest and his eyes fall shut.

Owen stares down at his son, lying comatose in a hospital bed. It’s only been two weeks since he fled the apartment, but already he looks so different, so much worse. Apart from the dyed hair and the streaks of grime on his face, it’s obvious that he’s lost a horrific amount of weight—weight TK could ill afford to lose.

There are deep purple bags under his eyes and his hair is limp and greasy to the touch. Nevertheless, Owen reaches out anyway, tangling his fingers in the strands as he prays for TK to open his eyes.

Worse, TK’s body is a patchwork of bruises and cuts, some in places that leave little doubt as to what he was doing to pay for the drugs. Owen feels sick to think about it, the idea of his 20-year old son out on the streets, doing...doing...that for something he thought he needed.

Jesus.

The doctors have told them that TK was lucky he was found when he was. Apparently, his dealer had fucked him over, given him much stronger drugs than TK normally took, causing him to overdose. On top of that, they’d been a bad batch, so TK wouldn’t have even had time to go looking for help if he’d known what was happening.

And there’s a thought niggling at Owen. He thought he knew his son, but looking at him now, he realises that he’s never been more wrong. Because Owen wonders whether or not TK would have gone for help if there was time, and he has no idea of the answer.

Heels click behind him, bringing him out of his thoughts. Owen knows what’s coming before Gwyn speaks, but he doesn’t try to stop her.

“Hasn’t this addiction don’t enough damage already?” she parrots, her tone cold and harsh.

Owen sighs. “Gwyn—”

“I accept my role in this, Owen,” she says, marching to stand on the other side of the bed, “but if you had just listened to me before then none of us would even be here. TK might not have been happy at rehab, but he wouldn’t be in a coma after almost dying either.”

“I know.”

“You know,” she scoffs. “Listen to me, Owen. We tried doing this your way, and look how it ended up. If—” Gwyn gasps and breaks off, sudden tears filling her eyes. She turns to look out the window for a moment, blinking hard, but she’s still not quite fully composed when she faces Owen again. “When he wakes up, we’re going to do what we should have done three weeks ago, and we are going to fix this.”

“I know,” Owen repeats, his voice a whisper. Gwyn seems startled by his ready acceptance, but Owen looks at TK’s pale, thin, bruised face, and he realises that a second chance is the last chance they’re going to get.

And he’s not going to lose his son.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #tk strand #owen strand #gwyneth morgan #lone star #911ls #fanfiction #my fanfiction #writing #my writing #erin tag

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little-lemon-lattes · 3 years

Text

The Scheme

🌛Zelda Spellman x fem! reader

—Word count: 1.9k

— Triggers: Mention of murder and burning in a non-violent context

— Summary: We have part 2 to The Set Up! You and Zelda spend a blissful day together since kissing the night before, and make the most of being together before the mortuary fills with life- and typical Spellman scheming- again!

You were on Cloud-fucking-9.

The previous evening, you and Zelda had kissed. It had been truly extraordinary, even better than the few times you had allowed your mind to indulge in that kind of imagery concerning her. You had never felt that good with anyone before; well, minding that you had neither felt for anyone like that of which you had been trying to cover for the astonishing woman.

She currently lay in the grass next to you, cheek resting tentatively on your belly, as you both just watched each other in comfortable silence. Gosh, kissing Zelda had felt SO good that it had been hard to stop at just one. Like now. Her stunningly bright and beautiful green eyes were boring into yours, but you really couldn’t tell if she was trying to send you a signal or was just unwittingly that gorgeous on the daily. Probably the latter. You also had to remind yourself that, EVEN though you two already lived under the same roof, you would take things one step at a time together. The last 24 hours with Zelda had been like a dream, and the Spellman mortuary had a new air to it now that you knew where you stood.

That morning, you had woken just before dawn (which was much earlier than you preferred), likely still on a high from the feel of Zelda’s lips. Rather than lay there attempting to force yourself back to sleep, you rose from your pillow. Perhaps it was your always-lingering insecurity pulling some strings, but it suddenly seemed desperately important to you- then and there at 4:56am- that you find a way of proving to Zelda that she hadn’t made the wrong choice opening up to you the night before. Just one more bonus of Hilda’s disappearance that weekend being that the kitchen was inevitably free, within a few minutes you had decided to make a spot of breakfast to share. You would never admit it out loud, but you were also buzzing to showcase your culinary ability; of which had been somewhat hindered by the unspoken acknowledgement that Hilda was the kitchen witch of the house.

With that, you were out of bed and clothed in a black turtleneck and mom jeans, as you put the finishing touches on a French braid: all by 5:15. THe next two hours flew by as you whipped up black coffee, almond cake, black sausage, eggs, salmon, bagels, mushroom, and tomato. You were just laying out bloody-fleshed plums and yoghurt when you heard gentle footsteps on the landing above you. Smiling softly, you stopped to admire as the woman padded down the stairs, wrapped in a silky black robe and wiping bits of sleep from her eyes. She stopped dead as she spotted the food on the table, hand still raised to her eye.

“Surprise...?” you peeped.

Zelda’s hand flopped to her side as she tilted her head adorably, treating you to a giddy smile. And you were hopeless to try not to smile right back. That there was enough to have made the last two hours worth it. “

“What’s all this, y/n?”

“I, uh... breakfast?”

Zelda couldn’t help smiling a little more at the cute way you had made it seem like a question. “I see that,” she laughed, “but why?”

You forced an expression of mock pain onto your face.

“I am hurt, Spellman, hurt! Does there have to be a reason?”

All she did was raise her eyebrows in disbelief. You supposed it was probably best to build any chance you had together on honesty.

“Okay, FINE. I just... wanted to show you that last night wasn’t a mistake, in case you were having any doubts.”

Zelda trotted, cat-like, down from her post against the railing, and came to rest just half a metre in front of you.

“Why, there was absolutely nothing of the sort. I hardly slept a wink all night; your lips have something of a memorable feel to them, if I am honest.”

And this time, it was her that closed the space between you, snaking her arms around your waist to pull you closer. One long peck later, the bubblegum-pink shade of your cheeks matched hers in perfect unison, as if in competition.

Breakfast was sweet and long, spent thigh to thigh next to each other, chatting about all the things you had been too afraid to ask each other until that point.

The rest of the day was passed laying next to one another in the winter sunshine, beneath an age-old willow tree. After what felt like just minutes since you had arrived (but had really been hours), you pointed to the sky with the hand that wasn’t clasping Zelda’s.

“Look, the sun!”

You received a lazy “hmmm” in response. Twisting to face her on your left, you couldn’t fight your sigh of content. The High Priestess was laying with her eyes closed in utter bliss, the final rays of Sunday’s sunshine dancing across those glorious lashes.

“It’s setting, Zelda. Everyone will be back soon.” you murmured to her. It was as if you had thrown a bucket of ice over her. Cloud 9 disappeared with the snapping open of her eyes. The soft expression that had occupied her visage all day visibly hardened into her more familiar, stoic one. She leapt to her feet, snatching up the open novel beside her and swinging out her hand to you with force. Time and Space closed in around you the moment you took it, and, the next thing you knew, the two of you were outside the mortuary once more.

You turned to her sharply.

“What was that about?” you demanded. Standing silent for a moment, Zelda’s ears visibly pricked. After a few more moments, she seemed appeased, and swivelled to you. Her shoulders were tense, and you took note of her fingernails digging into her palm.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I didn’t mean to be so abrupt. I just... I am enthused about where you and I are headed, y/n, and I’m terrified that others may not share my enthusiasm. I want to enjoy things as they are at present for a while longer, before having to think about who needs to be involved in our business.”

It was understandable, you supposed, and admittedly: there was a certain appeal to keeping things 007-style, like that fantastic mortal film. You relaxed a bit, and instantly felt awful for raising your voice at her.

You reached for the woman’s shoulder.

“You’re right, Zelds. I understand.”

She looked unconvinced.

“Are you sure? You have every right to want to murder me right now, if you so wished. Although, only if you were to bury me in the Cain pit...” she added as an afterthought.

You had to giggle at that one.

“You’re safe for now, Zelda,” you teased, “now, come on! I need to find a good hiding spot for scaring the BANSHEES out of them when they get back!”

Hilda, Sabrina, and Ambrose literally stomped their feet in sheer disappointment when they arrived back at the house and hadn’t caught the pair of you locked in some form of intimate embrace.

“Aw man! What will I tell my friends?! I had Roz totally excited about y/n finally getting some action... Like, she seriously admitted that she had this big crush on her when she first met her; whiiiiich definitely earned a few looks from Harvey, to say the least. The take-away from it all is that we now know exactly how fragile that guy’s ego is, YIKES, is all I can say.”

All the while, Ambrose was muttering a consistent string of “fuck”s under his breath, and Hilda was deciding whether to scald Sabrina’s ass to Hades and back.

“Sabrina!” her aunt admonished in disbelief, “how could you be so careless?! If any of this gets back to your aunt Zelda, we should consider ourselves excommunicated from her presence for good!”

All of them fought a cringe. Sabrina looked a bit sheepish.

Hilda turned to Ambrose.

“And what about you, mister? What’s with the constant profanities?”

Ambrose took a step back from his aunt, nobody was sure whether consciously or not. “Erm...hm. Yes. Well. I-” his sputtering was resembling a car trying to start up. Ambrose’s eyes suddenly seemed unable to reach past the witches’ knees.

“-um. Damn. Hecate, yes, I have... just lost a particularly large sum of money to one Dorian Gray.”

Hilda’s eyes were ready to pop out of her head. “I was so unequivocally certain that our plan would work! Now where I am supposed to come up with $1000?!”

He was a little manic. The only one of the three who seemed somewhat happy about Ambrose’s situation was Sabrina, sticking a finger at him. “HA! Now that makes what I did so much better!”

Her plum-coloured lips parted with glee, and without warning, her and her travel bag had disappeared. Ambrose made a furious mental note to pour formaldehyde in her evening tea for leaving him here alone. When he had finally built up the courage to look his otherwise cheery aunt in the eyes again, a flash of fear struck him at the murderous look in hers. A low growl exited her throat.

“Well,” she snapped, “I suppose there will be no more silly little attempts on our part to play Cupid.”

As quickly as it had started, her anger dissipated, and was replaced by a certain sadness. Her mouth raised just a fraction, into a tired little smile.

“ ’just thought that Zelds could do with something nice for once. We failed. It didn’t work.”

With that, she picked up her carpet bag and shuffled off up the stairs. Ambrose watched her go, now a lone silhouette in the entrance of their home.

Or so he thought. You waited until Ambrose had moodily trudged down to the embalming room before emerging from your spot in the broom closet. Sniffling a little from all the dust- those things hadn’t been flown for years, SO old fashioned- you felt a mix of emotion at what you had just heard. You hadn’t intended on becoming an audience to some type of scheme, and especially not one of which involved you.

At first, there was embarrassment. You hadn’t realised that your feelings were apparently so obvious! Paired with the fact that Zelda’s must have been too in order to warrant such a matchmaking scheme; along with that you had truly thought that you had done a superb job at keeping it all under wraps, you were left feeling a bit stupid. But then came the funny side of it all, imagining Hilda, Ambrose, and Sabrina sneaking about like the Pink Panther and holding secret meetings about your love life. And finally came the warmth, the realisation of exactly how much the Spellmans had grown to care for you- so much that they trusted you to love Zelda as much as they did.

The whole situation was entirely too much of an opportunity to just leave alone. Grinning with total delight and schemes cooking of your own, you rematerialised in Zelda’s study at the Academy. The loud CRACK that accompanied that particular piece of magic made the woman flinch. Her brow crinkled at the sight of you in front of her great oaken desk. She was a little taken aback, and (it delighted you even more) flustered to see you there.

“Y/n?”

“Zelda. I NEED to tell you what I just heard!”

A game was now afoot.

And your opponents weren’t finished yet either.

#zelda spellman #zelda spellman x reader #caos #Sabrina #lgbt #fanfic #hilda spellman #sabrina spellman #ambrose spellman #chilling adventures of sabrina #miranda otto #caos imagine #wlw #caos fanfiction #your pov

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ssa-babygirl · 4 years

Text

Out of My League [Part 1]

Pairing: High school!Spencer Reid x Popular!Reader

Word count: 3.7k (god i don’t shut up do i)

Summary: Spencer begins tutoring you in chemistry, and the two of you bond (I would say no pun intended but fuck it that was GOOD so I’ll say pun intended)

Warning(s): Mentions of bullying, mental illness, some swearing, I made one joke about herpes??? sorry if thats a sore spot with anyone, light angst and pining, Reader POV

Author’s Note: Here it is, folks!! The first official part! I’ so grateful for all the feedback I got on the prologue, I’m glad y’all are liking it, I hope you like this part just as much!! Next part I’m gonna have some baby spencer, and by that I mean whole ass adult spencer that just looks baby

[Previous Part] [Series Masterlist]

You absolutely despised chemistry. It’s boring. It’s simultaneously stupid and ridiculously complicated. You weren’t dumb, you were a decent student in all your other classes, but science was never your strong suit. You preferred literature over litmus paper any day. Unfortunately, your failing grade was bringing down your entire GPA, just below the requirement for you to stay on the cheerleading squad. Your coach recommended you get a tutor, or else you were off the team. So you went to the library to see the peer tutoring program, and all of them were booked. The next best thing would be the kid genius in your class. He was probably a better first choice, honestly, but you figured he’d be booked with other students too.

He wasn’t like other kids in your class, not just because he actually cared and was a good student, he was also twelve years old. The kid was a prodigy. He was bullied a lot because of this because no one really understood him. That’s probably why he looked so terrified when you approached him after class one day.

“Hey, Spencer!”

His eyes grew wide as he stared back at you, saying nothing.

“I was just wondering if you were available for tutoring?”

“Oh, uh, um, y-yeah, in chemistry?”

“Yeah, what are your rates like? Like say we do an hour every other day, how much would that be?”

“Oh! N-no charge.”

“Really?”

“The first couple of sessions can be a trial run, I don’t want your money if you’re not benefiting from it.”

That made you smile, this kid was so nice and you just wished that people actually cared about that instead of the dumb shit they bullied him for. Sure, he was skinny and short and dorky and you know, a literal twelve-year-old boy, but if someone would take time to know him, they’d see he’s a good kid.

“That’s sweet of you, but I don’t wanna waste your time if you have other students.”

“I don’t, so that shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Great! Are you free after school today?”

He nodded and avoided all eye contact before scurrying out of the room to his next class.

~~~

You met up later in the library. You greeted each other politely with simple hi’s and hey’s and nothing more. Then it was time to pour over your books for an hour and try to force the puzzle pieces into place and hope something finally clicked. Balancing molecular equations physically hurt. Just when you thought you got it all right, Spencer reminded you that you still had to balance the oxygen, which was always bonded with something else, which threw off the whole equation. Every time you made a mistake you just let out a groan and set your head on the table.

“It’s a lot of math, a lot of people have a hard time with it, don’t feel bad.”

“I’m so fucking stupid.”

“You’re not! It’s an easy mistake.”

“You don’t make mistakes like that.”

“That’s because I’ve been taking advanced math classes for the past two years, I’m good at this stuff.”

“You’re good at everything, you're a literal genius.”

“There are people who aren’t geniuses who are good at this sort of thing, just look at Johnny Abrams in our class. He answers every question Mrs. Gustin asks and I once saw him put his backpack on his car’s roof and start driving ‘cuz he forgot it was there. He’s just been practicing. That’s why we’re here, right?”

He always reassured you. Always told you that you weren’t stupid. You weren’t dumb. He always smiled when you got questions right and told you you were doing a good job. When your hour was up, you said goodbye and went home.

Spencer’s mini lectures aside, most of your sessions were sparse in the conversation department. The first time he went off on a side about some chemistry facts, you couldn’t keep up. You just sat there, jaw hanging while he went into detail about saponification, which wasn’t even in this lesson.

“Sorry, I’m rambling.”

“Did we learn that in class? Cuz if we did, I’m screwed.”

“No, not yet at least.”

“How do you just… know that?”

Spencer avoided your eyes once again, something he did more than spouting random facts, “I read a lot.”

That’s how it happened the first time. All it took was you asking one question about different types of reactions for him to launch into another spiel. You figured you’d have to know it at some point, so you started writing down whatever you could catch from his fast-paced speech, taking notes in bullet points.

“And that-- Oh. Y-You don’t need to do that, that’s not even on the curriculum.”

“Well, I gotta keep up with you somehow, right?” You glanced up from your page and flashed an almost challenging smirk as you saw him stifle a smile as he avoided all eye contact with you, as per usual. He then cleared his throat and got back to the actually assigned chapter.

The more he went off on tangents, the more he realized you weren’t stopping him. He was actually able to make chemistry sound interesting to you, which is strange, but it was easier to understand through how he explained it all. Something told you that he wasn’t used to having someone listen to what he said, because he just lit up when he talked about this stuff. He was clearly passionate about it, so why would you make him feel bad about it? He always apologized, but you always reassured him it was no big deal.

You didn’t know it at the time, but the kid was falling hard. This pretty, older girl was paying attention to him and didn’t think he was annoying? The bar may have been on the floor for young Spencer, but you were perfect to him. Eventually, he was able to look you in the eyes when you spoke to one another, he even smiled at you when you joked with him. That was another thing: you joked with one another now. You both warmed up to one another as your sessions continued. You said hi to each other in the hallways, you ruffled his hair as a greeting, he accepted your high-five requests every time you got something right.

You still didn’t talk outside of class much, which is why he was caught so far off guard by you calling his name from across the cafeteria as you approached his table.

“Hey, dude! Is it cool if we squeeze in an extra session today? I got a test tomorrow.”

“Y-Yeah, no problem, but, uh, it’s Thursday. Don’t you have practice after school?”

You did. And you had to be there because you had a competition this weekend.

“Yeah, I was wondering if we could meet after?”

“When does it end?”

“Five.”

“Library closes at four.”

“I know, but would it be too much of a hassle if I just… Pick you up tonight and we head back to my house to study?”

You could physically see his brain shut down in his eyes. After he realized he needed to respond, he picked his jaw up off the floor and gulped hard.

“Or you can stay after and hang out at practice and I can just drive you home?”

“Y-Yeah, um, yeah, tha-that works, I can, uh, yeah, we can do that.”

Spencer brought his books and homework and tried his hardest to not make it obvious he was staring at you while you danced. You looked like you were having so much fun and he loved seeing you happy and smiling with your friends like that, it was hard for him to look away and focus long enough to read a sentence, which is saying something, considering it does not take him long to read a sentence.

After practice wrapped up, you told him to go wait by your car while you changed out of your uniform. The girls in the locker room were talking just as loudly as always, only this time, it was about something you actually cared about hearing.

“I mean, really, what was that little creep doing watching us today?” You heard one girl sneer.

“So fucking gross, I don’t wanna know where his prepubescent head was.” Another girl laughed.

You had to step in. You had to say something.

“I’m his ride home. He’s my chemistry tutor and I have a test tomorrow, so back off the kid, he didn’t do shit to you anyway.”

The squad learned to watch their mouths around you after that.

~~~

The neon glow of the golden arches shone through your car’s windows as you pulled into the McDonald’s drive-thru line.

“This isn’t your house,” noted Spencer, sounding confused.

You grinned, “Oh, shit… no way! Wow! I’m so glad my tutor is a genius! I would have never guessed this was not my family home!”

He let himself laugh for a moment, “Okay, okay, fine. Why are we here?”

“Uh… to get food? Duh.”

“But what about your food at home?”

“My mom’s visiting my dad, he works in D.C., and I haven’t gotten a chance to go grocery shopping this week, so I can’t cook for you. What do you want?”

“You don’t have to get me anything.”

“No, I insist, it’s almost dinner time. Lemme get you something. As a thank you for squeezing in an extra cramming sesh?”

“It’s fine! Really.”

“Hey, Reid, come on,” you attempt to stifle a stupid giggle as you gesture to the rather large window displaying the playroom inside, “you are a guest in my home!”

Spencer shakes his head and chuckles, but doesn’t dare let you think he found you funny, “I’ll have chicken nuggets.”

“Happy meal?”

He tried to look offended at your clarification, but he quickly dropped the facade, “Yes. Extra fries, please.”

“Of course, buddy.” You pulled up further to the ordering station, catching a glimpse at the menu and the ads they had displayed on it, “Oh no way! They have Strawberry Shortcake toys! I used to collect those when I was a kid!”

Spencer saw the look on your face and couldn’t help but smile at your childlike excitement, “Do you want my happy meal toy?”

You bit your lip and hesitated before throwing all shame to the wind and saying yes. Because it was Spencer. He got excited over chemistry, he had no right to judge you on your old Strawberry Shortcake doll collection.

After you got your food, you drove back to your house, and you ate together at your kitchen island while Spencer quizzed you on the last chapter. He had asked you eighteen questions so far, and you had answered all of them correctly.

“Okay, this last one is for the Strawberry Shortcake--”

“Her name is Orange Blossom.”

“Whatever, this last one is for the Orange Blossom toy: Which type of reaction is represented by this equation?” He showed you his notebook where he had written a molecular equation.

“Substitution.”

“Correct! Now balance it.”

Your shoulders slouched as the pride drained from your body.

“Please don’t make me.”

“This is going to be on the test, Y/N, you have to know it.”

“What’s one wrong question, really?”

“You and I both know she’s not going to put just one balancing question on the test.”

“Fine.” You grumbled, grabbing a pencil and sliding his notebook closer to you. You worked it out after a few minutes, but everything looked right, and judging by Spencer’s proud grin, everything was.

He reached for the figurine, still in the plastic bag, and handed it to you, “You’re gonna do great tomorrow, Y/N.”

You took Orange Blossom from his hands and danced around the kitchen with it, overwhelmed with the sudden feeling of confidence you gained from nailing this practice session. You heard Spencer’s small laugh from behind you, causing you to turn around and face the boy as he lovingly mocked you.

Studying at your place became a regular thing after that, even when your mom was home. She loved him. She always invited him for dinner if she was home. He rarely took her up on the offer, but it was nice having him around the house with you. Study sessions turned into just plain hanging out. You spent more time bonding over Doctor Who than chemistry some nights, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

~~~

When Alexa Lisben invited him to meet her at the football field you were skeptical. You had good reason to be. She was never very nice to you or Spencer. You were able to be civil with her for the sake of the cheerleading squad, but something about her just didn’t sit right with you. You tried to warn him, but he wouldn’t listen. He seemed offended at the notion that Alexa would do something horrible to him. How dare you imply that the only reason someone would be interested in him would be to pull a fucked up prank?

“I’m not like you, Y/N, I don’t have a line of people waiting around for a date, no one’s ever had a crush on me before, and-and now that someone other than you is being nice to me, you’re telling me that they have some sort of ulterior motive?”

“Spencer. I know these girls, I’ve seen the guys they go for--”

“And I’m not like them?”

“No! You’re a sweet kid, you’re nothing like those guys and they’re gonna take advantage of that.”

“I really wish everyone would stop saying I’m just a kid!”

“You’re not! That came out wrong--”

“Listen, Y/N, I’m going whether you want me to or not, so if you really want to keep babying me, by all means, stay after and wait with me.”

“I don’t wanna baby you!”

“So stop it!”

You didn’t want to fight with him anymore, you weren’t his mother. “Ok, Spencer, fine. I’m sorry. You should go. How about you meet me in the library after and you can tell me all about it over McDonald’s? My treat.”

He warmed up and agreed.

So you waited in the library until four, and then you started to get worried. You went to grab something from your gym locker before you left to look for him and heard some girls from the squad gossiping about “the little dork.” Your blood started to boil as you heard the way they talked about Spencer. Your jaw only clenched harder as you recognized one of the girls’ voices as Alexa Lisben’s.

You poked your head around the lockers that divided the aisles and tried to manage a calm voice, “Hey Alexa? Spencer actually said he was meeting up with you today, do you know where he is?”

She just laughed and said, “I can’t believe you actually care about that loser.”

“He’s my friend.” All attempts to remain level-headed were tossed aside, “Where the fuck is he, what did you do to him?”

You could feel yourself starting to cry. It’s your fault, you weren’t there, you tried to warn him, but now you don’t know where he is or what he’s thinking or--

“Check the field.”

You sprinted out to the football field and saw him stripped down to his briefs, blindfolded, and tied to a goal post. You could kill Alexa. You actually considered turning right around and unleashing hell on that locker room, but your friend needed help. He was crying so hard he didn’t hear you coming until you called his name. You immediately went to untie him and grab his clothes from the fence beside him.

“You were right.” He sniffled, “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, I’m not mad, I’m sorry, I should have been there, I could have helped you--”

“No, you couldn’t. There were too many people.”

“How many were there? Who did this?”

“Y/N, please--”

“No, Spencer, tell me what happened.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it!”

You know when to stop, so you just shut your mouth while he got dressed, “Get in the car, I’m taking you home.”

You didn’t say a word to him as he buckled his seatbelt and you could tell he appreciated it. You just drove to McDonald’s and got him his usual. You parked in the parking lot and ate your food in almost silence, save for the radio in the background.

“You don’t have to tell me what exactly happened, you could pretend none of this ever happened, I won’t mind, it’s okay, but I just need you to know, Spencer, say the word and she’s dead. I have so much dirt on her, you have no idea, I can destroy her.”

“Don’t.”

“Okay, I won’t. At least give me names. I will personally make sure none of those boys ever get a date again.”

“Y/N, please.”

“I’m serious, I’ll tell everyone they have herpes.”

“I know you are and that’s what scares me, please don’t, I don’t wanna make things worse.”

You decide to drop it because if he doesn’t wanna talk about it, he needs a distraction.

After you finish your food, you ask him “Your house or mine?”

“Yours. Please.”

You drove back to your house and got yourselves set up on the couch in front of the TV, turning on an episode of Doctor Who that you had recorded. You made him popcorn as he curled up on your couch, clutching a pillow. You were mostly quiet for the rest of the night, but when you did talk, it was to ask him a question about the show or if any of the science was accurate. It was the best you could do to keep him mind off things. Eventually, he fell asleep and you felt too bad to wake him. He got up by himself around midnight, jolting awake as if from a nightmare, and considering how the last few hours had been for him, it probably was one.

“Hey, bud, I’m here, it’s me.” You didn’t touch him, knowing he got overstimulated sometimes when he got really stressed, but he felt around for you on the couch next to him, needing to know you were really there this time. You patted his hand when it reached across the cushion for you.

“What time is it?”

“Way too late for you to be here, let’s get you home.”

He nodded, slowly rising to his feet and looking for his backpack, which you reminded him he had left in the car. Your hand hovered above his head for a moment before he lazily drifted into you as he walked. You took this as an okay to touch him, so you ruffled his hair before loosely slinging an arm around his shoulders as you guided him to your car.

The drive back to Spencer’s wasn’t too long, thankfully, because you were sure his parents would be furious with him and the kid’s been through enough today. You wanted to take all the heat without making them think you kidnapped him. The lights were still on when you pulled into the driveway. They were probably worried sick about him.

When you knocked on the door, a frantic woman with short blonde hair opened it. When she saw Spencer, she grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him into the house, never breaking eye contact with you.

“Who are you? What are you doing with my son?”

“He didn’t do anything wrong, Mrs. Reid. I’m Y/N, he’s been tutoring me.”

“How do you know me? Spencer, what did you tell her?” She looked at him and back at you, “Get off my property and stay away from us!”

“Mom, she’s a fr--”

“Go up to your room, don’t come out.” She didn’t sound like an angry parent reprimanding her son, she sounded almost... scared.

A million alarms were going off in your head, and you needed to try to get through to her, “Ma’am, I’m sorry, he was helping me study and we lost track of time, it’s not his fault.”

“I don’t care, I don’t know you, get off my property!”

You decided it was best not to argue, so you hurried back to your car and drove home as quickly as possible so you could shower and go to bed and pray that Spencer would be okay tonight.

~~~

Your phone rang early the next morning. You rolled out of bed to answer it, sprinting to the hall table to take it off the stand. Checking the caller ID, you realized it was from a number you didn’t recognize. Answering it, you heard Spencer’s voice on the other side.

“Hello, this is Spencer, is Y/N home?”

“Yes, you woke me up on a Saturday morning, where else am I gonna be, kid?” Your voice was scratchy as you struggled to fight off the sleep still clawing at your throat.

“Sorry about that. I was just calling to apologize for last night.”

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”

“N-No, I’m not in trouble, I just wanted to explain why my mother was all--”

“She was worried, I get it.”

“N- she… My mother is a paranoid schizophrenic, she doesn’t do well with strangers. She doesn’t even remember what she said to you last night, she was having one of her episodes. She was just confused.”

You didn’t know how to respond. You were so shocked by his sudden revelations, you just stayed silent. You didn’t want him to think he scared you, so you had to say something. And apparently, that something was “Oh.”

“She wanted to apologize, but she’s just a bit embarrassed, so I called for her.”

“N-No, it’s okay, I…” It was suddenly so hard to say you understood because while it made sense to you, you wouldn’t fully understand what he or his mom was going through, you didn’t understand it, but Spencer didn’t seem to mind. He was just glad it didn’t bother you. After the events of yesterday, he couldn’t afford to lose you.

“Tell her I’m sorry I scared her.”

“Will do. She said you could come over so she could apologize personally and meet her if you want.”

“I’d love to. And Spence?”

You felt him take pause. You never called him that before, “Yeah?”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t wanna scare you.”

“You wouldn’t scare me, dude, you can tell me anything.”

“Really?”

“I promise. I’ll see you Monday?”

Spencer nodded, but you couldn’t see him, so he spoke up through the lump in his throat, “See you Monday.”

Taglist ~~~~~~

(Lmk if you wanna be added!!)

@lawnmoa @ellvswriting @reidsmyhusband-emilysmymistress @baby-pogue @rottenearly

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #mgg #mgg fanfiction #mgg x reader #mgg smut #matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler fanfiction #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #cm #cm fan fiction #cm imagine

392 notes · View notes

whumpmatsus · 3 years

Note

So you can, nice.

I been wandering if you could write something about a painful love triangle between iromatsu and a new neighbor they have met and become Friends with.

She is like the epic older sister type, but with some depression and emptiness. Best if her name was Irusu. She likes to pet the sextuplets.

ichimatsu happen to fall for her thinking she is similar to him and karamatsu falling for her strong personality thinking it was beautiful.

however when karamatsu realized that ichi love her too and saw how close they are. he had a emotional battle with himself not knowing if he should choose his happiness or his brother's, in the end he chose what he thought is the best for them all and immediately give up on her and start avoiding her not knowing that the girl actually have a crush on him (lot of details, ik)

eventually the girl got hurt from Karamatsu action and blamed her foolish messed up self.

Ichimatsu who know the girl's feelings get into a fight with karamatsu and they got injured both physically and emotionally.

I don't know about the ending tho, you can write whatever you want I'm only here to give pain to my heart.

It's a bit long so take your time and don't overdo it pls, love ya💙

ahahaha sorry, was the request "yo girl how much emotional Iromatsu shit can you fit into less than 3000 words?"

... the answer is literally all of it

this was fun, Iromatsu fighting hurts my heart but also I love it, that angst is delicious :D

I made the ending vague in order both to let people imagine their own ending AND to set up for a possible sequel if anybody wants one!

love ya too, I hope this is good for you *fingerguns*

For the first time in a long time, Akatsuka Ward has a new resident.

For the first time in an even longer time, she’s been hanging around the Matsuno sextuplets as if they’re her only friends.

As far as anyone else knows, that might be the truth. No one ever sees her with anyone else aside from the times she happens to work, and the brothers all seem incredibly fond of her, so there’s really no reason to find anyone else when she has six new friends.

Irusu is maybe a strange kind of young lady, but no stranger than the rest of Akatsuka’s inhabitants, to be fair. Around the sextuplets, she doesn’t really rest in making sure they’re all taken care of and happy.

She accompanies Osomatsu to the pachinko parlor, often putting her own money into the machines so he can play. She sits next to Karamatsu on the roof, listening to him play guitar and singing along. She collects magazine articles about idols and proudly sets them into Choromatsu’s hands when she comes over. She brings over food for Ichimatsu’s cats, giving little kissy noises as she feeds them. She always offers to play baseball with Jyushimatsu, even though it always leads to exhaustion later. She displays an incredible willingness to star in selfies with Totty and makes him laugh with silly poses.

And if she’s not doing any of those things, she’s got one of their heads in her lap, stroking through their hair. More than one fight has broken out over who gets to be petted the most on any given day.

All in all, they love having her around. It’s been so long since any of them had a real friend outside the family who treated them so kindly.

Is it really any wonder at least one of them ended up falling head over heels for her?

… Actually, is it really any wonder two of them did?

Neither of them is sure who fell first, though they’re not sure it really matters since they can’t really call ‘dibs’ on a person. All they know is that Ichimatsu is drawn to the similarities between himself and Irusu, sensing a kind of heavy-weighing sadness and darkness inside her that’s not unlike his own… and that Karamatsu is pulled in by her strength and kindness, in awe of someone who can be so brave even when she’s suffering herself.

For the month or so after Karamatsu became aware of his little brother’s feelings, he’s been wrestling with his own heart. What kind of horrible older brother would he be if he stole the affections of someone Ichimatsu’s heart is also pining after? Can he even set aside his own selfish emotions when he’s never quite felt like this for someone before?

The whole thing is just awful. Often as brothers they would playfully fight over Totoko, and yet this is… different. This isn’t Totoko. It’s Irusu. It’s someone that one of them might actually have a shot with.

What is he supposed to do? For once in his life, he wants to step up and have a chance, to not immediately give in to his generosity and wanting his little brother to be happy. He wants to be happy. It’s a shame that he does want Ichimatsu to be happy, too. At the very least, he doesn’t want his happiness to have a hand in Ichimatsu’s pain.

He thinks too long and too hard. Every cheesy romantic line that he aims at Irusu and every time she smiles at him ― it’s getting more difficult to take. Every time she caresses his head. Every hug they share.

Every time he notices Ichimatsu tense up whenever Karamatsu flirts with Irusu. Every time Ichimatsu clenches his fists when she’s charmed by something Karamatsu does or says. Every time he looks angry and insecure when she calls him ‘Irusu boy’ and proclaims herself ‘Karamatsu girl’, even if it’s probably just a joke.

Those are the things he thinks he notices more than any of Irusu’s reactions.

He wants so much to be selfish, to not care how his brother feels. The unfortunate truth is that he does. More than anything, he loves all of his brothers, Ichimatsu included. If something he does is going to hurt one of them, then he doesn’t want to do it.

So last night, he did something that he didn’t truly want to do. As Irusu was leaving, he kissed her hand and told her, in a rather solemn tone devoid of his usual theatrics, “Ichimatsu would probably like it if you asked him out.”

With that, he felt like things were in place. He would keep his distance from her, Ichimatsu would get a chance to be happy with her, and… Karamatsu was sure he would find someone else eventually. The biggest problem was that in order for it not to be so painful for him, he would have to try to avoid Irusu as much as possible.

No more hugs. No more being petted. No more pretty smiles in his direction.

It’s only been a few days of it by this point. However, it’s not easy. Even though he thinks this is the best thing, that he’ll stop craving her attention at some point, right now he still wants it. Losing the closeness they’ve all become used to is one of the worst things he can think of, and it’s happening, and he’s so sure it’s the right thing…

It just sucks that the right thing can hurt so badly.

At least his little brother will have a shot at happiness.

Ichimatsu, on the other hand, is pissed.

He’s sure he must have been this angry at some other point in his life, although he can’t really remember this kind of fury burning him up from the inside. It’s probably been a while since he felt anything other than a boiling of annoyance.

He has a hard time with Karamatsu, that much is for sure, but he knows Karamatsu well enough. The man is a goody-goody, or at least he pretends to be, so he’d never do something like, say, step on Ichimatsu’s toes over a girl they both like. That much is certain.

Except the issue with backing off is that in the process, he’s managed to lodge a big, painful arrow in Irusu’s feelings. That is something Ichimatsu can’t just ignore or let slide.

Why would he do this, anyway? If he was going to let Ichimatsu have a chance with her, fine… how come he had to just start brushing her off, though? What, does he think he can’t even be friends with her in order to let Ichimatsu shoot his shot? The hell is wrong with that dumbass?

This is where his dangerous nature comes in handy, at the very least. He can’t act too scary around Irusu or he risks her being afraid of him. Karamatsu is another story.

Which is good, because he thinks his big, stupid brother needs a scare to make him realize what the hell he’s doing.

Not only is he taking away Ichimatsu’s chance of winning Irusu’s affection fairly, instead of being the ‘runner-up’ like he’s been his whole life, Karamatsu is also hurting her. She’s talked about this to Ichimatsu, and she thinks that this is somehow her fault.

She thinks she’s too messed up and Karamatsu has just lost interest in her, that she did something which turned him off. The way she buried her face in Ichimatsu’s shoulder, mumbling tearfully that she should have known Karamatsu couldn’t possibly like her the way she liked him, is a memory he thinks is going to be burned in his mind forever.

He’s mad at Karamatsu more than he’s ever been in his life. He thinks he’s doing a nice thing stepping aside and trying to give Ichimatsu a chance, but if it hurts Irusu, he doesn’t want that chance. It matters what she wants more than anything, so if she likes and wants Karamatsu, if it’s putting her in pain to have him treat her dismissively, then Ichimatsu isn’t going to just stand by. He’s gonna do something about it.

Of course, perhaps he could have been a little more composed about it than to simply walk up to Karamatsu and punch him in the face. That said, nobody ever accused Ichimatsu of being subtle.

The hit was hard enough to leave his hand aching, so as soon as it connects, he pulls his fist back and rubs at his knuckles. It hurts, yeah. There’s more important stuff than that right now, though. He stares down at his brother, who’s on the floor trying to recover, and for a long moment, doesn’t do anything except glare.

Karamatsu, meanwhile, is pinching his nose shut in an attempt to stop the bleeding from being punched in the Goddamn face without any warning. To say he wasn’t expecting the blow would be an understatement. Even when he gingerly draws his hand away with a wince, everything still throbs. “Ichimatsu, what the hell was that for?!”

“You’re an ass,” Ichimatsu hisses, taking a step closer. “You think I need your fucking pity, huh? You think the only way Irusu would choose to go out with me is because you gracefully bowed out? You’re full of shit!”

Karamatsu is on his feet in a few seconds, only to just barely catch another fist thrown at him. His arm shakes with the muscle strain of holding back his little brother’s ire. “What are you… are you angry at me for taking myself out of the running?! Any other time, you’d be eliminating the competition yourself!”

Ichimatsu throws a punch with his other hand, though it’s caught just the same. There’s too much rage and adrenaline flooding through him, and Karamatsu can’t hold him back forever. “You think you’re doing me some kind of favor?! That’s just so like you! You’ve gotta be the hero right? You stupid, chūnibyō loser! You’re the saintly big brother and I’m the pathetic jackass and you’ve just gotta help me!”

“Wha… h-hey! That’s not what I think or what I’m trying to do!” It’s starting to become difficult to keep a grip on Ichimatsu’s hands, so in a desperate bid for some space, he shoves Ichimatsu back… maybe with a little more force than he may have used otherwise. “I care about you, Ichimatsu! You deserve to have a chance, and I know she likes you, and I just thought… if I allowed her to focus on you, I wouldn’t distract her!”

Ichimatsu ends up flat on his ass, although he’s back up in only a second. “You didn’t distract her, you motherfucker! You hurt her feelings! Who cares if she likes me?! She likes you! But as usual, you had to go and fuck everything up for everybody because you were trying to ‘help’!”

This time when he lunges forward, Karamatsu is ready and they end up grappling like two bucks locking antlers. Nobody really has the upper hand unless one counts that Ichimatsu is putting a little more physical force into it; the emotional toll it’s taking on Karamatsu is obvious, though.

“She never told me anything about that!” His arms quiver as he tries to plant his feet so that Ichimatsu can’t just brute force his way through this fight.

“Should she have had to?! You said she likes me, but she’s never said that, so you could obviously read her to know she likes me! You couldn’t tell she likes you, too?! And so what?!” Ichimatsu rocks forward in an attempt to knock Karamatsu off balance. “Even if she didn’t like you that way, you think blowing her off like you’ve been doing wouldn’t hurt a friend?!”

He winds back and goes in for another punch. “You’re not a good person! You know what you are? You know what I see when I look at you, what everyone else sees when they look at you? A stupid, painful, selfish, sorry excuse for a big brother!”

Something about those words makes Karamatsu freeze. The hit lands full-force, kickstarting the bloody nose that had just stopped a moment ago. Sparks dance around his insides, prompting him to gain back awareness enough to reciprocate the blow.

Before either of them know it, they’re rolling around on the floor, kicking and hitting each other and shouting the worst things they can think of.

“Excruciating bastard!”

“Antisocial asshole!”

“Self-centered, holier-than-thou shitbag!”

“Emotionally constipated, ungrateful bitch!”

“You don’t deserve to be anyone’s older brother! You don’t deserve to be anyone’s brother, period! You deserve to be alone, because nobody should ever have to deal with you and your fucking tryhard bullshit!”

“Oh, and you’re so easy to deal with?! All any of us do is give and give and you don’t give us anything in return! Being an apathetic misanthrope doesn’t make you interesting or special, it just makes you an edgelord!”

“Edgelord, huh? Must run in the family, because you’re even edgier than I am!”

“Maybe, but at least I don’t shut everyone out and act like my brothers don’t love me!”

“Oh, you’re psychoanalyzing me now?! Fuck off! Actually, just die!”

“Is that what you say to everything?! You die first and I might consider it!”

“Great! I’m glad to die! I’ve got a noose and a beam all picked out! As long as I get to choose how you die, I’m ready when you are, asshole!”

“Please! As if I’m going to let you do something like that! What the hell is wrong with you, Ichimatsu?!”

It seems to be the turn in that direction that causes the two of them to start to lose steam. The decline is quick as all the anger between both men crystallizes into fatigue and anguish.

Karamatsu rolls over from where he ended up above Ichimatsu, and Ichimatsu lets his whole body go limp. They lie there for what feels like forever, breathing heavily, covered in new bruises and scratches and flecks of blood, too tired to fire any more shots at one another.

They lie side by side, and when Karamatsu looks over, he sees through his own blurry vision that there are tears in the corners of Ichimatsu’s eyes.

His heart leaps into his throat.

He doesn’t know how else this could have turned out, but it’s undeniable that things have gone way too far, as they always do with any of the sextuplets.

“Ichimatsu…” He reaches for his little brother, only for Ichimatsu to pull violently away and curl into a ball. It hurts, mainly because he knows that’s what Ichimatsu does when he wants the entire world to leave him be. This time, it’s Karamatsu’s fault.

“Fuck off, Shittymatsu,” Ichimatsu mumbles. It’s through experience that Karamatsu can tell he’s starting to cry; that break in his voice might not be evident to anyone except his brothers. “Whatever you’re going to say, I don’t wanna hear it. I don’t care.”

Karamatsu huffs. “Well, you should care. We can’t do this shit, Ichimatsu. What’s wrong with us? It’s not normal for brothers to fight like this. We just beat each other up. Over a woman. … A stunning woman, but―”

“You’re a fucking idiot,” Ichimatsu interrupts. “Are there rocks in your Goddamn head? Do you really think this is just about Irusu? Don’t pretend this wouldn’t have happened at some point even if she never came into our lives. We’re fucking losers who don’t know how to get along and she’s just the latest thing we’re fighting about. We’re both shitheads. Neither of us deserves her.”

Well, at least they can agree on that.

Despite the fact that Ichimatsu doesn’t turn to look at him, not even a little, Karamatsu keeps a hand on his little brother’s back. That Ichimatsu doesn’t push him away or scream for Karamatsu to get off is a good sign.

Although, there aren’t enough good signs to just magically fix this. There’s still so much wrong with the entire situation and nothing is going to tie it up with a neat bow.

They lie next to each other in silence for a long time. Gradually, the tension starts to drain out of Ichimatsu’s body, the more seconds tick by without Karamatsu moving away. His muscles continue to relax until he’s bled out of fury, until he realizes that he doesn’t wantto be mad at his big brother.

The anger isn’t just going to vanish from either of them. It’s not going to disappear because they don’t want to be angry at each other. Their exhaustion bringing true feelings out of the shadows, however, is better than making believe they would prefer staying angry.

“I’m sorry,” Karamatsu finally says. His voice is smaller than usual and breathy and sounds cracked in half by the time he speaks up.

At last, Ichimatsu rolls over onto his back with a grunt. “… I’m sorry, too.”

Karamatsu sighs and shifts his hand away to give his younger brother space. “We really are a couple of pathetic creatures, aren’t we?”

“Yep, we’re shitty.”

“The shittiest.”

They both fall silent for another moment or two. This time, it’s Ichimatsu who breaks the quiet. “What… do we do now?”

There are too many thoughts swirling around Karamatsu’s head. And he would assume in Ichimatsu’s head as well. Everything is tumulting around in an unorganized mess, too much to put together any kind of real plan.

What do they do about what,anyway? About Irusu and who gets to have a chance with her? About their own broken relationship?

Neither of them really knows what to do about anything.

“I think,” Karamatsu hums, “we should patch up our wounds before anything else.”

So Ichimatsu nods.

It’s not going to solve any of their real problems, but it’s as good a place to start as any.

#Osomatsu san #whump #Iromatsu #Karamatsu #Ichimatsu #OC #emotional whump #violence #love triangle #angst #MMMMMMMMMMM Y'ALL TASTE THAT??#FRESH ANGST RIGHT OFF THE ANGST VINE #THESE TWO HAVE SO MANY PROBLEMS WITH EACH OTHER #MAYBE THEY NEEDED TO SCREAM AND BEAT EACH OTHER UP #at least it's over! ... for now anyway XD

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staycult · 3 years

Text

highschool!jisung as your boyfriend

pairing — gender neutral reader x jisung

genre — fluff / bullet scenario / friends to lovers

word count — 1.6k

enjoy!

u and jisung had been friends for quite some time now

ever since highschool started probably

u guys were in the same friend group

you were always with him during lunch

and u guys go home together bcs ure practically neighbors

“[y/n]! smile!” he said as he pulled out his favored polaroid camera

as you were about to turn your head around you heard a loud click, coming from the camera

a flash of light blinded your eyes

so you tried to cover it

“hey! i wasnt ready!” you pouted, giving jisung a light slap in the arm

he stuck his tongue out to mock your reaction and pulled out the film from his camera

“you look ugly” jisung snorted, fanning the film

“shut up and start moving!” you rolled your eyes and grabbed his hand to make him walk faster

bcs guys were about to go home

“do you want to stop by at the park first?” jisung offered

ofc u cant resist him

his presence always make u feel at ease

“buy me ice cream then let’s go” you bargained, earning an eye roll from him

“Two ice cream cones please!” you requested, giving the money to the cashier. you tapped your finger on the cold surface while your other armed propped your chin. jisung on the other hand was shuffling through his notebook filled with polaroid pictures that he took with your friends.

“stop staring at my pictures, ji” you laughed while grabbing your cone from the man in front of you and giving the other cone to jisung. “keep staring and you’ll fall for me” you added as you licked your ice cream. he clicked his teeth, “ew, you wish”

both you and jisung walked around the park, still in your school uniforms. the park is the place where you and your friends hang around when you guys have time. the slide and the swing are your most favorite part.

you sat down in the swing and tapped the other seat to motion jisung to sit down as well. “look, the sun is setting!” you pointed as you finished your cone. you looked over to jisung who was his camera pointed at you for the nth time. but this time, you managed to strike a pose in front of his polaroid camera. his cheeks can be seen from behind, obviously smiling at the sight.

days went by

you and jisung had been hanging out in the park swing almost every day

just the both of you

watching the sunsets and taking pictures

you noticed that he only takes random pictures of you but when youre with friends, they need to ask first before jisung would take a picture

he claims that your face is funnier with stolen shots

ofc u believed him

he is your best friend after all

the school year is about to end

and your music and arts teacher is talking about your final project

which was to write a song or poem, draw a portrait or make a poster

with a special meaning behind it

you almost ripped your hair out of frustration when you tried to compose a song or draw

so u went for a simple poster

you and your friends were comparing your final outputs in the cafeteria

“come on, show us yours!” your friends encouraged you

“ahh, it’s really ugly im not even good at these kinds of shit!” you cursed, showing it to them anyway

“seriously? it’s good! youre like jisung. god, both of you say you did bad but it’s not!” you friend said while eyeing your poster

“really? jisung i want to see yours!” you said while grabbing some of your friend’s food

“no” he said, sticking a tongue out to mock you

“why not?” you replied while pouting

both of you bickered for atleast 3 minutes

saying lots of ‘no’s’ and ‘why not’s’

he had enough of your shit

and pulled you out of the cafeteria

holding his notebook, backpack and a ukelele

jisung was grabbing you by your wrist until you arrived at the school’s rooftop. you didn't have the time to respond at his sudden action.

“ouch! what was that about?” you said once he lets go of your wrist. “you want me to show you my output right? well here it is. listen.”

you were taken aback by his words, did he really get annoyed by your previous bickering? and why are we on a roof top anyway????

jisung grabbed his ukelele and opened his notebook, which was filled with polaroid pictures of you that was taken over the school year and years before that.

“it’s called hello stranger,” he spoke and started strumming on his ukelele

“The moment I felt like our eyes met

my body moved all on its own

Movin’, movin’, movin’, movin’, movin’

The closer we get the more I think

about what it is I’m feeling

My mind is filled with question marks

I can’t see anyone

around us anymore, you’re just growing more clear

Everything on this road

is blurred and faded out except for you

I’m filled with nothing but curiosity about who you may be

It’s like I’m approaching you drawn by something I can’t even know

I won’t beat around the bush, my subconscious is pushing straight forward

having me walk as it pleases without a single thought

Ah, a new wind is blowing

Where could it have come from?

It’s strange, but it’s not cold

Before I know it my feet are moving, following the wind

I take my hands out of my pockets

Hello Stranger, I keep being drawn to you

Growing closer

to you without a single thought

I’m curious, more and more and more as time passes,

why am I like this? Who are you to do this to me?

Stranger

Nana nanana nana

Closer

Hello Stranger, who are you to do this to me?

I can see in you the things that I myself am lacking

I try yelling out to you the things I had just yelled into empty space

The things I didn’t have, that I was missing before I met you,

all of these feelings, every moment

my mind is filled with exclamation points

I can’t see anyone

around us anymore, you’re just growing more clear

Everything on this road

is blurred and faded out except for you

Something’s different about you, but I’m not sure what

I think the light approaching me now must be you

Even if I look away I can still see your afterimage,

you never leave my sight, who are you to do this to me?

Ah, my feet are moving, following this new wind

I take my hands out of my pockets

Hello Stranger, I keep being drawn to you

Growing closer

to you without a single thought

I’m curious, more and more and more as time passes,

why am I like this? Who are you to do this to me?

i love you”

it’s been weeks since you and jisung last spoke and since his sudden confession

you were about to tell him how you felt, too

how he makes you happy these past few days

to the point where you were falling for him too

but he ignored you

was it because he felt awkward?

or scared?

confusion was taking over you

and you know damn well youre gonna have to take measures into your own hands

so you came up with a plan to atleast get him to talk to you

“come on! just say i wont be there” you begged your friend. “fine. so roof top it is?” you squealed and gave your friend a hug. plan was to make your friends invite jisung at the same place he confessed on only to see youre the only one there

you grabbed your backpack since you had a vacant class and went to the rooftop to prepare. you knew jisung had a vacant class too, so you were hopeful he’s going to drop by.

“hi, i like you too” you practiced “no, too awkward” you ran your hands through your hair in frustration. “hey jisung! will you vincent van gogh out with me?” you repeated with hand motions this time. “god no” you mentally slapped yourself because of the cringe

“jisung, i like yo-” you repeated. you felt someone hug you from behind, “you do?” his husky voice sent shivers down to your spine as he hugged you even tighter.

“i-i do” you admitted, removing his arms so you can face him properly. “i really really do, i cant stand you not talking to me.” you burried your head to the crook of his neck.

“im sorry, baby. i didnt know how to handle rejection yet” he let out a low laugh, earning a laugh from you too. he snaked his arms around you and swayed you back and forth. humming the tune of the song he composed.

“youre mine now, are you?” he spoke, kissing your forehead as you gave him a nod.

bf jisung would mean

A VERY PLAYFUL RELATIONSHIP

SERIOUSLY

the confession may be soft and cuddly

but after like 2 days

yall are like best friends again

but with a mixture of sweetness

things never really changed

but you were still glad

love letters and songs !!!!!

lots and lots of kisses

cheek, forehead, chin, shoulder kisses

you name it

he would gently cup your face while doing so

he likes teasing you

but u tease him back

ends up with him being all pouty

will help u out with homework

ice cream and park swing dates

would literally take polaroid pictures of both of you

the ones he took before yall got together is displayed in his room

on the back of his phone

and the rest, he keeps it in his notebook

which was filled with songs about you

will sing you to sleep

will hold your hand literally every where

“baby, im the luckiest to have you”

author's note —

just imagine it's the slow version of hello stranger ok ALSO i want jisung to be my bf like ??

129 notes · View notes

haokyeom · 4 years

Text

new dream | chwe vernon hansol

ミ★ synopsis: your dream is to get into SNU and leave your town, get a fresh start. that is, until you meet vernon. the one who helps you experience the feeling of being free for the first time.

ミ★ genre: sin of sloth!vernon, highschool!au, angst, fluff, some crack

ミ★ warnings: a couple slaps kapOW

ミ★ word count: 6,352

ミ★ pairings: vernon x female reader

ミ★ notes: hi guys it’s lila, aka @viastro ! this was kinda rushed because i’ve been going through it, but i hope you guys still like it <3 vernon is the sin of sloth for the collab :o make sure to give vernon lots of love !!

ミ★ previous | masterlist | next

In life, you have to work hard. As someone who’s been on the Dean’s honor roll since you were in your freshman year, you would know. You’ve been working hard on your grades for as long as you can remember. You wanna get out of Daegu, you want to go to Seoul.

The main reason for you wanting to leave the place you were raised?

To get away from your aunt and cousin, who took you in when your parents passed. However, they’ve done nothing for you except let you under their roof. You practically raised yourself from the moment you could start doing addition and subtraction.

It doesn’t help that your cousin, Yeona, is an absolute shithead.

So here you are, walking back to your house from the after cram school to make sure you pass the exam to get into SNU, Seoul National University. It’s 8 PM and you’re wondering if you should go and get fast food before going to your shift at the convenience store your aunt owns.

Your schedule is basically wake up, go to school, attend classes at the cram school after school ends, go to work at the kbbq restaurant for a few hours, then work at the convenience store. There’s no time for fun or meeting your friends, not that you have many. You dedicate most of your time into making sure that you have enough money to financially support yourself once you finally leave Daegu, and that’s all that matters to you.

“Maybe I’ll get fries.” You mumble to yourself once you notice the grumble of your stomach. You walk down the street to head towards McDonald’s, only to freeze when you hear the sound of guys yelling. Raising an eyebrow, hand sneaking into your pocket to grab the pepper spray you keep, before continuing your route to the fast food place.

“You’re not gonna do anything? You’re just gonna let us beat the shit out of you?” You frown at the sentence, wondering why the person won’t fight back. You twist off the cap when you look down the alleyway to your left and see a group of guys surrounding one man laying on his side.

“What a bitch-”

“Hey!” You shout out without thinking, and all the guys turn to glance at you. You’re standing at the entrance of the alleyway, pepper spray in hand as you quietly think to yourself that maybe, just maybe, you should’ve closed your eyes and pretended nothing was happening.

it sucks being a person with morals.

“What are you doing here, little girl? This business doesn’t involve you.” You glare at the man who assumed you were a child when you’re now an adult. You glance down at the guy on the ground, only to raise an eyebrow when you realize he has on your school’s male uniform. “What are you guys doing beating up a student? You’re all like… thirty.”

One of the guys growls and moves to go and get you, only to be held back by the first man who spoke to you. He shoots a glare at you, “Go. I won’t ask twice.”

You let out a sigh, before walking up closer to the three men. It’s when you stand before them that the guy your age lets out a groan, sitting up from laying on the ground. He turns around to glance at you, and your eyes widen slightly when you immediately recognize him.

Chwe Vernon Hansol, the guy at your school who puts no effort into things. However, he’s second best to you. He’s one of the naturally gifted students.

you despise him for that.

“Get the fuck down, bitch.” The guy tells Vernon, and the blonde lets out a tired sigh. You question whether you actually heard him mutter, “I told you, you’re literally beating up the wrong guy.”

“The fuck did you just-” Without thinking, you reach out and pepper spray all three of the guys before they can make another move on Vernon. They begin screeching, and Vernon’s eyes widen, immediately standing up and grabbing your hand. The two of you make a run for it with Vernon pulling you as you hear the men roar out in pain from behind you.

The rush you feel is exhilarating. Your heart is beating wildly against your chest, your hair being blown past you by the breeze as you run. You feel free as you run with Vernon, his hand tightly holding yours until you both feel that you’re far enough.

You double over, hands on your knees as you try and catch your breath. Vernon runs a hand through his hair, hand clutching his stomach as he feels a cramp coming on. After a moment of you two just heavily breathing, you stand up straight and look directly at the blonde.

His uniform is dirty with footprints and some blood, his tie now hanging loosely around his neck. He runs a hand through his messy hair, before turning and glancing at you. A flicker of recognition flashes past his eyes, and he tilts his head at you, “You’re yn.”

Your eyes widen slightly at the fact that he knows your name, and Vernon takes notice of this, letting out a chuckle. He stands up straight, stretching out his back, wincing slightly at the pain from what will most likely be bruises the next day. He turns to you once he’s done and says, “You’re at the top of the Dean’s honor roll, of course I know who you are.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, words not seeming to form proper sentences as you try to come up with a response. Vernon lets out a sigh after a moment, before turning and giving you a close-lipped smile. “Thanks for saving me back there.”

You raise an eyebrow, “I couldn’t just let you get beaten up, but I’m curious.” Vernon tilts his head to the side, and you purse your lips at the memory of him just letting himself get kicked everywhere. “Why didn’t you try and stop them? You were just laying there.”

Vernon smiles at you, and you find that he has a rather nice smile. You almost protest when it goes away once he shrugs his shoulders, “I was lazy.”

Your eyes widen in confusion, making you momentarily forget about his nice smile. Vernon laughs at your reaction, before turning and beginning to walk away. He only stops once he’s a few feet away, turning back and waving at you with a devilish grin on his face.

“See you at school tomorrow!”

You continue to stand there for a moment, wondering why the hell he let himself get beat up simply because he was lazy. Letting out a sigh, you realize there’s no reason for you to continue to think about Vernon. You have a shift to get to.

And with that, you walk towards the convenience store, stomach grumbling slightly at the fact that you were unable to get any McDonald’s. However, you still find yourself thinking of Vernon, that feeling you got when he was pulling you through the streets.

It lingers hours later as you eat the stale kimbap while you stay behind the register.

“Yn, can you go and get the printed papers from the staff room?” You glance up from your desk to see your teacher staring at you, and you give her a nod, standing up and walking out of the room. Once you’re closer to the staff room, you raise an eyebrow when you hear the familiar voice.

“I’m doing well in the subjects, why did I get called in?”

“Vernon, you’re a naturally gifted student. However, you have to stop sleeping during my classes.”

You chuckle quietly, knowing that the blonde enjoys sleeping during classes. You never had an idea as to why he takes naps while the teacher is in the middle of lecture, but after last night, you have a vague idea as to why he’s always tired.

You try to quietly slide open the door, only to cringe when the loud squeak resonates through the room. Vernon glances up at the noise, and finds you cursing the door for ratting you out. The corner of his lips tilts up in a smile, before he turns back towards his teacher.

“I’ll try my best.” Vernon says, and his teacher nods her head. She motions with her hand that he’s free to go, and Vernon makes sure to walk past you at the printers as he does so. You turn your head when you see Vernon walking up to you, and you catch a glimpse of his smile.

“Hey, yn.” Vernon greets before walking out of the staff room. You stare at the printer with wide eyes, questioning why heat is rushing to your face simply from his smile. Quickly grabbing the papers needed for your class, you leave the staff room.

“You look nice toda-” You screech at the sudden voice beside you, almost dropping the papers, but clutching them close to your chest instead. You’d rather sacrifice yourself than pick up at least 50 papers off the floor. Vernon stands beside you, trying to hold back his laugh at your reaction, and the blush rises to your cheeks again. Except this time, it’s due to humiliation.

“Please ignore that ever happening.” Vernon shakes his head with a smile, running a hand through his blonde hair as he chuckles.

“It was really funny, so I don’t think I will.” He tells you, and you squint at him, before turning and continuing to walk down the hallway towards your classroom. You hear Vernon’s footsteps following behind you, causing you to frown. You stop walking, and turn back around to see Vernon standing there, hands in his pockets. “Why are you following me?”

“Because I think you’d be interesting to hangout with.” Your eyes practically bulge out of their sockets, and Vernon finds himself having to hold back another laugh. You point towards yourself in confusion, and the blonde nods with an amused grin on his face. “Why would I do that? No, let me rephrase. Why would you want that?”

Vernon just shrugs his shoulders, leaning against the wall as he looks you up and down. You try to hold back the heat from rushing to your face again at the way his eyes rake your body, feeling slightly self conscious of the fact that your uniform is no longer as put together as it was this morning. You freeze once Vernon’s eyes lock with yours again, and he smiles. “Cause all you do is school shit, seems boring.”

You immediately squint at the blonde, no longer interested in what more he has to say as you decide to walk past him and into your classroom without another word. Leaving Vernon alone in the hallway, somehow more intrigued by you than he was previously.

“Just get me an iced americano before you get back!” Before you can respond, Yeona hangs up the phone, and you curse to yourself. Now annoyed and hungry, you step out of the cram school and begin walking towards the coffee shop.

“What am I? Cinderella? I fucking hate it here. She has legs, she has money, why can’t she just get her own coffee? We literally live right on top of a convenience store. We have instant coffee at ho-” You’re cut off when you accidentally walk right into someone, and their hands grasp your arms to make sure you don’t fall backwards. You immediately begin to mutter out a bunch of apologies, looking up to only lock eyes with those familiar caramel colored eyes.

shit.

Vernon lets out a small smile, tilting his head to the side as he watches your eyes slowly turn into slits as you stare at him. “Well, I thought you didn’t wanna hangout with me?”

Scoffing, you push him away, and you hear him chuckle at your reaction. You brush away any dust on your uniform before crossing your arms and glaring at the blonde. “I don’t.”

“Then maybe fate has other plans, considering the fact that this is the third time we’ve met coincidentally.” Vernon tells you cheekily, and you roll your eyes. “That or you’re stalking me.”

Now it’s Vernon’s turn to scoff at you, and you bite back a smile. Letting out a sigh, you step past him so that you can go and get Yeona’s coffee, only to realize he’s now walking right beside you. You turn and glance at him, just to find him looking up at the stars in the sky.

“You seemed pretty mad when you bumped into me. It was like a whole scene from those movies where the antagonist realizes they’re going to be evil. From the furrow to your brow, to the whole monologue you did. I’m glad I stopped that character arch.” Vernon says and you let out a laugh, shaking your head when you realize how what he said was true. The blonde smiles at the sound, feeling a sense of accomplishment.

“My cousin, Yeona, she’s in your class. She was really pissed off and told me to buy her coffee right as I got out of my cram school classes. I didn’t get the chance to tell her no cause she hung up on me.” You explain, only to immediately regret it a second later because why did you open up to Vernon? Why did you just negatively talk about your cousin when you know she’s well liked in school. You open your mouth to say you were joking, only for the words to die in your throat when you see Vernon nodding his head in agreement.

“That’s ass. She shouldn’t be acting like it’s your job to buy her coffee when she’s asking you to do something for her.” Vernon says, turning to glance at you. He notices the way your eyes shine brightly back at him, and he looks away when he realizes that you’re rather pretty. You bite your bottom lip, staring down at the pavement as the two of you walk side-by-side.

No one’s ever agreed with you when it came to matters such as these, let alone take your side. You’ve lived most of your life under the impression that your cousin is, and always will be, superior to you. Yet Vernon didn’t care, he immediately tried to sympathize with you.

maybe he’s not that bad, you find yourself thinking as the two of you walk in silence. It’s when you both stop in front of the café that you finally speak up, “I’m going to go and buy the americano, thanks for walking me.”

Vernon nods his head, giving you a small smile. “Anytime.”

The two of you stand in an awkward silence for a moment, and you question how the silence when you were both walking together was comfortable. You purse your lips and give Vernon a wave of your hand, before turning to walk inside the cafe. Your hand rests on the doorknob, and you bite your lip, before glancing back at the blonde, “Vernon?”

The blonde looks up at you, and he tilts his head to the side. “Yeah, yn?”

“You’re not so bad.” You say, flashing him a smile before stepping into the cafe. Vernon grins after a moment and walks off, staring up at the night sky.

“Yeona! You look so pretty today. Did you dress up to get Vernon to notice you?” You hear Yeona’s friend ask beside you as you get your portions for lunch. You just continue on with getting your food, turning away to go and sit down without hearing the rest of their conversation.

You move to sit down at one of the empty tables, only to pause when you hear Vernon call out your name. Cursing to yourself, you glance up and see him walking over to you with a happy smile on his face. You know for a fact that Yeona and her friends must have heard Vernon call you, so you’re internally shitting your pants at what she might say.

“I thought I told you to act like you don’t know me at school.” You whine when Vernon now stands in front of you, and he just chuckles at your childish behavior. He reaches out and grasps your wrist, and you raise an eyebrow at the blonde. “I wanted to show you something.”

“Since when were you the one wanting to do stuff? I always have to plan our hangouts.”

“Whatever.” Vernon responds with a grin, and you sigh.

“If it doesn’t make me shit myself, then you owe me tea.” You tell Vernon, and he smiles before pulling you out of the cafeteria. Completely ignoring the glances and whispers the two of you receive.

It’s been about a month since you and Vernon had that moment in front of the coffee shop, and the two of you began hanging out after classes were over. Whether it be him just walking with you to the cram school, him walking you home after cram school, or him bothering you during your shift at the kbbq restaurant. The two of you are usually together.

Recently you’ve even been skipping cram school classes to go and hangout with Vernon, as you’ve come to realize you rather enjoy his presence. However, even though you guys are close outside of school. Within school grounds you two only spared glances at each other because you knew your cousin would go feral if she found out the two of you were on speaking terms.

You already knew that you were dead when you turned around and saw your cousin staring at you and Vernon’s connected hands as you left the cafeteria.

“Your mind’s about to be blown.” Vernon tells you as he takes you up the stairs, and you squint at the male.

“If it doesn’t I swear to God I will call upon thousands of demons-” The threat dies off in your throat once the two of you push through the doors and you find yourself staring out at a beautiful view of the city. You walk over to the ledge, resting your hands on the railing as you take in a deep breath of the fresh air.

Vernon grins, walking up beside you and letting out a happy sigh at the silence. He knows that you won’t be calling upon thousands of demons, or else he would’ve heard it as soon as he opened the doors and you weren’t impressed. However, you’re quiet right now, just staring out at the view.

“So you won’t be making that curse?” Vernon asks, turning to glance at you with a cocky expression on his face. His jaw falls slack slightly when you turn to and face him with the brightest smile he’s ever seen on you.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you, Vernon.” You tell the blonde, basking in the moment of peace settling the turmoil that runs within you. You turn back towards the view, letting out a happy sigh at the view.

All while Vernon just stares at you for a moment longer, wondering how his heart got the ability to beat so fast at the sight of your smile.

“Mmm… I don’t know Vernon. The college entrance exams are in a few weeks. I’ve been skipping my classes too often recently.” You tell him as the two of you walk towards the cram school, and Vernon lets out a yawn. He shrugs his shoulders, holding up the bag of box dye that he bought and swinging it in your face. “You’re the one who told me I’d look nice with black hair. I got the hair dye, all I need is you to color my hair.”

You squint at him, “Why can’t you dye it yourself? You have two working arms.”

Vernon yawns, turning to glance up at the sky, “Too much work. Besides, this was your idea.”

You let out a sigh, seeing that the cram school is about a block away now. You look at Vernon, seeing him walking with a calm expression on his face as he awaits your response. The sound of the plastic bag rustling against his legs gaining your attention, as you glance down and see the box of black hair dye through the thin plastic.

You quietly wonder to yourself why Vernon decided to take your word for it and dye his hair black. You just said it randomly a couple weeks ago as he was following you around the kbbq restaurant while you cleaned up the tables.

“Why did you even come with me to work? You already know I’m not going to give you any leftover meat.” You tell the blonde as you pick up any trash that was left behind on the countertops. Vernon rolls his eyes at the table beside you, taking a sip of water that your boss gave him.

She strongly believed that the number of customers increases when Vernon accompanies you to work because of how handsome he is. You didn’t believe it at first, but as you take a quick look around, you soon come to realize that a lot of the customers who are eating are all just staring at Vernon.

“Pretty privilege sucks.” You mumble quietly as you place the dirty plates and chopsticks into the bucket. You turn your head to glance at Vernon, finding him quietly scrolling through his phone. His blonde hair is over his forehead today, hiding his strong eyebrows from view. You tilt your head to the side, and Vernon glances up at you when he feels your gaze. “What?”

You shrug, turning back towards the tables to continue cleaning as you mutter, “I think you’d look good with black hair.”

Vernon types up whether it’s better to dye his hair black at home or at a salon when you move to clean the next table.

“Alright, I’ll dye your hair this time. This is the last time I’m skipping my cram school classes though, I have to focus for the college entrance exams.” You tell Vernon with a serious tone, and the blonde nods his head. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s go back to my place.”

The two of you turn and begin walking in the opposite direction, and the corner of your lips tilt upwards at the thought of teasing the blonde. So you turn your head and ask, “Do you live like a slob?”

“No.”

“I feel like that’s a lie.”

“Damn, it wasn’t a lie.” You mutter as you slide into the pair of slippers Vernon handed you. He scoffs, walking into the bathroom to prepare the towels without a response. You giggle, knowing that’s all the answer you’re going to get on that topic.

“So you live alone? Already?” You ask as you walk into the bathroom. Vernon nods his head, handing you the gloves that come with the boxed hair dye. “Yeah, I like being alone.”

You frown, turning to glance at him as you put on the gloves. “You and I hangout almost everyday though.”

Vernon doesn’t respond to that, instead handing you the already mixed hair dye. You raise an eyebrow, and he just grabs his phone to scroll through, causing you to squint at him. Before you open your mouth to scold him he turns and says, “You’re the one who said I’d look nice with black hair.”

“You’re the one who bought the hair dye!” You exclaim as you dip the brush into the bowl. Vernon grins at the raise of your voice, knowing that he pushed your buttons. He places the towel over his shoulders when you begin to brush the hair dye onto his blonde locks. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll buy us chicken afterwards, so don’t worry.”

You purse your lips at the mention of fried chicken, deciding to forgive Vernon as you continue to dye his hair. Vernon glances up at you in the mirror and smiles at your pursed lips. You feel his eyes on you, and let out a small grin. The two of you begin to converse, telling each other about each other’s day when suddenly a random question pops up into your head as you use the last of the black hair dye.

“Are we friends, Vernon?” You ask quietly, and Vernon pauses, looking up at you in the mirror. You stare at his hair as you brush the dye onto it, refusing to make eye contact as heat rushes up to your cheeks.

Vernon doesn’t have many friends. Keeping up relationships takes time and effort, if there’s an imbalance, then it becomes hard. Vernon doesn’t have many friends because of this quality of being the Sin of Sloth, but he doesn’t mind being alone.

However, he’s grown to enjoy your presence. You’re not demanding or needy, and the two of you only see each other after school. Vernon’s eyes flash red in the mirror when he sees the blush on your cheeks and how shy you’re acting, so he glances down at his phone, now having an answer to your question.

“Yeah, we’re friends.” You bite back a smile at his response, nodding your head.

“I don’t have many friends.” You mutter quietly, and Vernon looks up at you in the mirror as you walk over to the trash can and throw away the now empty bowl that once held the hair dye. He lets out a breath,

“Well, now you have one.”

“And then we divide by…” You mutter the steps to the equation as you do extra practice problems at your desk in your room. The college entrance exam is in a week, and you’ve been trying not to slack off as much as you’ve been doing in the past month and a half.

You set ground rules with Vernon, telling him that this week that you’re going to dedicate all your time into attending the classes and studying after school. The black haired beauty didn’t put up a fight with your decision, just nodding his head and drinking his coffee aimlessly afterwards.

You purse your lips when you mess up the equation, reaching over towards your pencil pouch to grab your eraser, only to jump in your seat when your bedroom door slams open. You turn your head to see Yeona standing there, staring at you with the fiercest death glare she can muster. You let out a breath, “What is it?”

“Have you and Vernon been hanging out after school?” She asks, and you shrug.

“We just walk together.”

Yeona squints, stepping forward when you open your mouth to explain that you’re not interested in Vernon, only to be cut off when you receive a harsh slap to the face. You stare at your paper, the sting on your cheek only registering when you slowly turn your head to look at your cousin.

“What the fuck was that for?!” You shout, standing up from your seat to face her head on. She scoffs, running a hand through her hair and pointing directly at your chest.

“You know exactly what I meant when I asked if the two of you have been hanging out. You know that I like Vernon!”

“I’m not stealing him from yo-” Yeona raises her hand up to slap you in the face again but you grasp her wrist, effectively stopping her from dealing another blow to your cheek. She lets out a scream, and your eyes widen.

“Why the fuck are you screaming! You’re the one who came into my room and fucking slapped me!” You shout as you let go of her wrist, taking a step back from her so that she won’t try and hit you again.

“What is all this noise?” You and Yeona both glance towards your door, finding your aunt standing in the doorway glaring at you. You feel your heart sink into your stomach when Yeona begins to cry, showing her mom her wrist and claiming that you hurt her.

“Auntie, that’s not what happened at all-”

“I take you into my home and let you go to school. I gave you the food and clothes on your back, and yet you give my daughter and I an attitude like this?” You stare for a moment, feeling tears rush to your eyes, knowing that it’s not true. All they’ve done is treat you as some house maid, the only thing they’ve done is let you go to school and stay at their home.

“I didn’t do anything wrong Auntie, can’t you see from the obvious red mark on my cheek that Yeona sl-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence if you still want a place to stay.” Your aunt threatens, and your eyes trail over to Yeona’s, to find her smiling at you.

Biting your lip, you turn away, grabbing your phone from the top of the desk and pushing past them as the tears fall past your eyes. Ignoring your aunt’s shouts, you slip on your sneakers and run out of the house, wiping your eyes as you do so.

You run as far as you can, ignoring the burning within your chest at your lungs desperate attempts to tell you to take a break. You run, and you run, and you run as the tears fall past your eyes. It’s only when you slam into someone and fall backwards that you stop.

Vernon’s ready to mutter a complaint towards the person who bumped into him, only to pause when he sees you with your head in your hands, shoulders shaking as you cry. He crawls over to you and rests a hand on your shoulder, “Yn, what’s wrong?”

You glance up at the familiar voice, finding Vernon staring at you in concern. A sob escapes you, and you cover your mouth to try and silence it. Vernon immediately pulls your head into his chest, wrapping his arms around you as you cry. Those walking by glance at the two of you in concern, but the both of you pay no attention to it.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Vernon asks quietly, running a hand through your hair to try and calm you down. You close your eyes as your breathing slowly goes back to normal, shaking your head in his chest. You wrap your arms around his middle, silent tears continuing to fall.

“Let’s just stay like this for a few more minutes, please.” You request in a small voice, and Vernon nods his head without a second thought.

“Yeah, of course.” He mutters, feeling his heartbeat against his chest as he holds you.

Vernon wonders why his heart is hurting at your sadness, and when he came to care.

You stare at the screen of your laptop, your heart going feral within your chest as you wonder whether or not you should check if you got into SNU. You took the college entrance exam a few months before, and the results of whether you got in or not all depends on you logging in. If you don’t check, then you’ll have a stroke. If you do check, you’ll have a stroke.

You rest your head in your hands with a low groan, “I’m gonna have a stroke either way.”

You recall Vernon’s words, telling you that you should’ve passed based on the fact that you didn’t have any friends before because of how much you studied. To which you called him a bitch and proceeded to put him in a chokehold.

“I can do this.” You mumble, now more motivated as you type in your login. You press enter without a second thought, and stare at your screen as your results now look directly back at you.

REJECTED.

Your eyes trail over the word, and your whole world comes crashing down at that one word. You fall out of your chair, hand over your chest as your heart beats wildly against it.

“No. No, no, no. I have to go, I have to have gotten in.” You mutter to yourself as you stare at the screen, your hopes of being able to leave this hell hole sooner now being pushed back. However, you don’t know if you can stay at this house any longer.

Your phone vibrates beside you on the floor, and you glance down to see Vernon’s name on the screen as he calls you. You reach out and grab it, slowly raising it to your ear. “Yn, did you get in?”

“Can we meet?” You ask quietly, and Vernon’s smile slowly drops from his face at the tone of your voice. He nods his head even though you’re unable to see, “Yeah, yeah of course.”

“You didn’t get in?” Vernon asks, and you nod your head, staring down at your hands as he looks at you with concern in his eyes. You bite your lip in an attempt to stop the tears from flowing, and Vernon reaches out and rests his hand over yours.

“It’s okay, yn. You can just take it again, and then-”

“But I have to leave now. I can’t take it there anymore, Vernon. It’s just been worse since I ran out of the house a few months ago.” You explain, looking up at your friend with tired eyes.

Vernon’s used to seeing your eyes being bright, sometimes even sparkling when you laugh at something he said. So seeing the dark bags under your eyes and the dullness to them is a shock, making him wonder how tired you must be.

“It’s the only option right now, but you can do it. You just have to push through for a little bit longer.” Vernon tells you, and you bite the inside of your cheek, looking back down at the cement as the feeling of defeat continues to linger in your chest. You shake your head, “I shouldn’t have skipped those extra classes.”

“Yn…”

“I shouldn’t have skipped them! If I continued with my plan then I would’ve gotten in, and then I would’ve been able to leave this fucking shit town!” You exclaim, tears now falling past your eyes as you turn your head to look at Vernon. He just stares down at his hands in silence as you continue to cry, and you wonder why you let yourself slack off on your studies because of him.

“Why did I stop trying as hard for my dream because of you? Because of this feeling you gave me?” You ask quietly, letting out a sad smile. While Vernon comes to a standstill at your words. He turns his head to look at you, and you wipe away your tears before turning to stare directly into his eyes.

“What?”

“It’s because of you. Whenever I’m with you, I feel this… this sense of comfort. I feel the weight get lifted off my shoulders, like I don’t have any worries anymore. I would forget about my dreams of leaving this place when I was with you, because it felt like I was already home.” You confess, and Vernon stays silent. You bite the inside of your cheek, turning away after a moment, letting out a small chuckle at how ridiculous you’re being.

“Do you… have feelings for me?” Vernon asks, and you let out a breath, shrugging your shoulders.

“Yeah, I think I do. Considering that I skipped cram classes at the cram school for you.” Vernon looks away, standing up from the bench, and you glance up at him. He stares at you with a blank expression on his face, and you raise an eyebrow.

“I… I don’t do that stuff, yn.” Vernon tells you, and you feel your heart sink slightly in your chest. You cough into your shoulder, thinking of how to respond when Vernon continues.

“I don’t even know why I became friends with you. I don’t do relationships at all, but you weren’t that hard to deal with.” You stare at Vernon with a painstricken expression on your face at his harsh words, but he just continues. “If I had known that you were going to fall for me, then I wouldn’t have even-”

You stand up and slap Vernon across the face, and the silence afterwards seems to engulf the both of you. He slowly turns his head and looks at you, seeing the tears falling from your eyes as you harshly bite the inside of your cheek.

“How… how dare you?” Vernon just stares as you begin to cry harder, reaching up and slamming your fists against his chest. He stays still, not moving as your cries turn into sobs as you hit him. “Y-you ruined everything for me, and you tell me that I wasn’t that hard to deal with?”

After a moment you stop, covering your face with your hands to try and calm down. You’ve decided that today is quite possibly one of the worst days of your life, and you want nothing more than to turn and run from all your problems. So you look back up at Vernon after a moment, and you see his eyes void of any emotion as he stares back at you.

“Don’t ever speak to me again. Don’t you ever try to talk to me, got it?” You state as you poke his chest directly over his heart, and he still stares at you silently, making the pain in your heart grow.

“I can’t believe I thought you could be my new dream.” You mutter quietly. You bite the inside of your cheek, before turning around and walking away from Vernon without another word.

He watches as you grow smaller and smaller as the distance grows between the two of you, until you’re out of sight. He’s used to being alone, he doesn’t do friendships or relationships because of the effort you have to put in. However, a single tear falls from Vernon’s left eye as he glances down at the pavement, only having one question in mind as he does so.

why does it hurt to be alone now?

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stitch-n-time · 3 years

Note

Can you explain how the US housing laws work? You have me interested

Short answer: they don’t.

Longer answer (because I have to work tonight and truly don’t have like 8 hours to write the thesis, because you bet your ass I could):

There is actually an internal structure that the low income housing system has been built around that makes it nearly impossible to navigate, difficult to get into, and specifically works against the people that it was supposedly built to help.

I’m actually not quite sure where to start with this, so it’s going to be all over the place and bouncing back and forth, but that’s also kind of on brand for the low income housing system.

The system as we know it is very much a post WWII thing, so the info here will be from after that point. A lot of this will be in kind of broad, sweeping terms. But since the US is like 60 different states in a trenchcoat trying to sneak into an R-rated movie, very little of it actually covers the entirety of the country. There are also state and city levels of bullshit that people have to wade through. Most people don’t make it.

I’m going to use my own experiences as an example. But know that my experiences are NOT typical. When I started down this rabbit hole, I was a 30-ish year old white woman, a part time student, presented as a professional female on a daily basis, had a fairly stable income from a job I had held for years, and a vehicle (though making payments). All of this put together meant I had it pretty easy.

Some of that caused problems, though. The vehicle was a problem. It was a newer model gently used vehicle. According to the dealership, the previous owner had traded it in because it was a manual transmission and they wanted an automatic. When I bought it, it had less than 60k miles on it and was in excellent condition. In the eyes of the people who approve the paperwork and rubber stamp applicants for low income housing, I could get rid of that vehicle, and the moneys spent on the payments and insurance could go toward housing. Which would be reasonable, except most of the US doesn’t have public transportation at all. What public transport does exist is sketchy, rarely runs on schedule, and often does not go into residential areas. I COULD have gotten rid of the car, but that would have meant a 2 mile hike to the nearest bus station, 4 hours on a bus to get to class and 5 hours on the return trip twice a week, then a 2 mile hike home OR a 2 mile hike to the nearest bus station, 4.5 hours on a bus, another 2 mile hike to get to work, and the same on the return. At that point, I would have been spending more time on the bus than either at work or school, and might as well just live on the damned thing, since all I would have time to do at home is shower and MAYBE eat a sandwich?

But that’s also typical. Part of the laws as they are written specifically state that a person or household can not own physical properties that are over a certain value, because those properties could be sold in order to elevate the person/family’s lifestyle. That also makes household absolutely reliant on public transportation, which is simply not available in many poor areas.

Which goes into redlining, and systemic racism, which is a huge part of this, but is a whole ‘nother essay.

The fact that I was a student also worked against me. If a person can afford to go to school, they can afford housing. So why would you want/need help from the government? I’m just thankful that I was a part time student when the need for low income housing arose… If you’re a full time student, you are automatically denied on any application for low income housing. There are different legal designations for “low income housing” and “student housing”. They can not exist in the same housing complex for legal reasons. So if I had been taking one more class that semester, I would have been denied, and would have been homeless.

That in itself doesn’t sound terrible. And there’s reasons for the legal differences. But think about it… What if I had been in the last semester of school and something had happened? What about the people who are both enrolled in school and are working, trying to make ends meet, trying to be able to do something better, and either their lease is up or they get evicted or… I don’t know… their house burns down or a tornado hits or suddenly medical bills? If a person fills out that paperwork while still a student, even if they say “I’m graduating next month and want to move in the month after that” they still count as a full time student and would get denied. Which means leaving school and being spit out into the post graduate world probably without a job, while being denied help with keeping a roof over their head, when it’s absolutely necessary to have a physical address while searching for a job.

Which goes into the anti-homeless way of thinking, which is a huge part of this, but is a whole ‘nother essay.

I’m going to lump the “fairly stable income from a job I had held for years” and “presented as a professional female on a daily basis” into one, because they are directly related. I had worked my way through a trade school, and had been working in the medical field for nearly 4 years. The practice was open 4 days a week. I was there 2 days, the male counterpoint was there the other 2 days. If a client preferred one of us over the other, either they scheduled appropriately, or the doctor asked us to come in for that client’s appointment time. Because a large portion of the clientele were middle aged and older, as well as conservative, the dress code reflected accordingly. Since I actually REALLY liked the job, and the doctor and his family were pretty awesome people, I dressed and styled accordingly, on a daily basis. But because the number of hours on the clock varied with the number of clients scheduled for therapy appointments, there were times when those paychecks got mighty thin. There were absolutely trends of busy seasons and light seasons. Sometimes during that light season there were days when I would go to work for a couple of hours, go home until about 3PM, then go back for 2 or 3 hours. It was hard to pin that down.

Having to explain that I could not pinpoint an amount of annual income with any accuracy while filling out the application worked against me. And just about anybody who works in retail, food service, etc. - all the jobs that people with low incomes tend to have – will tell you that they suffer the same thing. Go into work, put in a couple of hours, and have the manager come tell you to go home because it’s not busy enough to justify having people on the clock. But without having an accurate estimation of annual income (that could be verified by their calling your employer) means that the application is denied. The general consensus is that if you can’t pinpoint your annual income, then you’re lieing on the application, which means you’re untrustworthy, and therefore don’t deserve to get the help you need to keep a roof over your head.

That conservative professional look helped me here, though. I went into the office dressed well, in khakis and a nice blouse, to fill out the application and speak to the people. While I was there, another lady came in to fill out an application. This is somebody who I happened to know personally. She was also a professional, who was arguably in a slightly better place than I was because her income did not fluctuate (though it was low, as she was recovering from a divorce and most of the family income had come from her ex husband), but she was “dressed down” in shorts and a t shirt. We made the same arguments. I ended up in an apartment, and she did not.

Honestly, I was actually lucky to get into an apartment. A lot of people don’t realize it, but even with things being classified as low income housing, it takes a LOT of money to get into places. Just like every other rental in the US, before you move in, you have to pay the first month’s rent. And a deposit. And if you have pets, another deposit. And the cost of having the electricity and water turned on. And depending on the specific details of the contract you have to sign, possibly trash pickup. And if you want internet, either you pay for that and get a modem through the ISP, or you pay extra on signing the lease. And if you want to do your laundry in your home (if there’s even a hookup), there’s an extra rental fee for a washer and dryer, unless you bring your own.

I got lucky. When I applied and was approved, this particular housing development was running a “special” - if you sign a lease, you get one month rent free to use within 12 months of signing. I had to use it immediately. With all the extra fees and everything else, I could either pay for the rent OR the deposit, but not both – so I paid the deposit and laughingly told them I’d like to use that free month on the first month, immediately, right now, please and thank you, now where’s my key? They almost turned me away at that point.

I honestly believe that if it hadn’t been for my professional clothing and the fact that I could point to a couple of scabs on my face, that I would have been denied at that point. (The scabs were from a dog. I had been renting a room from a “friend” who is no longer a friend. Her dog bit my face, and instead of punishing the dog, she decided I needed to move out that weekend. Note: this is literally the ONLY time I’ve had a dog bite me, despite having been around them most of my life, and this particular dog had snapped at multiple people before.)

Which goes into classism, which is a huge part of this, but is a whole ‘nother essay.

Now the thing that has been on my last nerve for a few years now is a good one. The laws state that if your household changes in any way, you have to fill out the application again. Doesn’t matter if you literally got approved the day before: you fill it out again. Because there have been household changes. It doesn’t sound terrible at all, but I know somebody who got evicted from low income housing and ended up homeless because his wife left. Suddenly the household size was smaller, but had the same income, and it was over the limit for the household size. Sorry not sorry you have to go. I know somebody who was evicted for “falsified paperwork” because she had a baby and was in the hospital for 2 weeks, so didn’t get the paperwork in on time. They ended up in a homeless shelter (in this city, homeless shelters are more expensive than a lot of low income housing). Now she’s in debt that she’ll probably never get out of, due to that.

What’s more is that the eligibility requirements to be able to pass those income thresholds change constantly. Out of curiosity, I tracked the changes over the course of a year. Just checking on the first of the month. In a single year, the income requirements changed 10 times. It’s not easy to keep track of, and there’s not much reason to track it unless it’s literally part of your job, in order to keep in compliance with the laws.

My own personal gripe is much less severe than that. I can’t get married. Technically, my fiance can’t live with me. On paper, he lives with his parents, miles away. But he spends most of his time in my apartment, which is under my name only, because I’m disabled (but ineligible for disability) and need his help. We’ve been together for a decade. We’ve been engaged for over 5 years. But if we get married, then the household changes, and we have to fill out the paperwork and get approved again. The thing is: if we put together our incomes into one “household” income, we would never be eligible for low income housing. Which means we would have to move out.

Moving out comes with it’s own difficulties. Because of the paperwork you have to sign to lease low income housing – and depending on where you are because 60 states in a trenchcoat – there are hoops to jump through. The lease in this particular development, you get a choice. If you break the lease you either a) pay the full amount of rent on the apartment through the end of the lease term or b) pay two months’ rent on the apartment after termination of the lease. So not only would we have to find other housing that we could afford (with all of the move in fees, deposits, transfer of service fees for utilities, bla bla bla), we would also have to pay 2 months’ rent on top of everything else. Which means either borrowing literally thousands of dollars from an individual – banks won’t do loans for this – or having to decide which bills get paid and which don’t while surviving off of ramen noodles for months at a time. Which… uh… would not work well with the man-thing’s diabetes.

Which all goes into respectability politics, and deciding whether or not poor people deserve to have stability and emotional fulfillment, which is a huge part of this, but is a whole ‘nother essay.

Now this may sound like a whole lot of personal whining. And it kind of is. But I can’t speak for anybody else. This is my personal interactions with these people and with the laws behind their behavior. But it’s the laws themselves that are written to be exclusive of the people that need help the most.

Homeless people can not apply, because they don’t have a current address.

Unemployed people can not apply, because they don’t have an income.

Full time students can not apply, because of the legal definitions of the different types of housing.

People with “disposable” property (such as cars) are often denied because they could turn those assets into monies.

People who rely on that “disposable” property for work are unable to take advantage of low income housing due to the above.

People of color who have been relegated to specific neighborhoods where public transportation is not available due to the redlining of the last century are unable to take advantage of low income housing due to the above.

People who do not have thousands of dollars readily available are denied because they can not pay both the deposit and rent.

People who face employment discrimination (even though it’s illegal) are denied because they can not provide proof of steady income.

People who have bounced from employer to employer are often denied for the same reason.

People who have successfully gained low income housing are often unable to change anything about their household.

People who have successfully gained low income housing are often unable to get out of it if their situation improves.

All of it is written into the laws surrounding the housing itself.

So…. Yeah. It doesn’t work. But if you want me to actually get into the nitty gritty, I can start actually researching. But somebody’s gotta pay me for it.

#long post is long #hey nonny nonny #what was that?

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