Pits

Pits

You’ve had a bad day, so you go to the only place you feel completely comfortable being an ass. Could be a oneshot could be a story, who knows at this point. Angst. Reader has no gender. Highschool au, human au, reader is not called y/n

I need inspiration to keep writing this and improving my writing skills. I have no idea how long I'll keep this going or if I'll even post this fic again but here.

To say you were pissed would be an understatement. Your hair was charred at the ends from a failed chemistry lab, your favorite jacket was soaked in rain water. At least the water helped with the burn somewhere your mind tried to reason. It was minor but still hurt like a little bitch another part said whilst wishing you’d snapped at the careless classmate who did it. Instead of walking home to your house you made the short trip from the bus stop to Monty’s place, not even bothering to stop by yours to let your parents know where you were headed. Well, they probably knew where you were anyways.

You opened the door and let it slam closed.

“I’m home!” In response you heard a loud grumble from the kitchen. Instead of heading to greet your friend you immediately went down to the basement and began setting everything down. Carelessly you changed into some of his clothes and went looking for the stray bag of chips you knew he kept down here despite his housemates' protests. He stomped out of the bathroom and stared at you for a second. It must’ve been one of his housemates in the kitchen. You simply rolled your eyes at the blush creeping onto his cheeks as you kept searching for the chips.

“Do I even get to ask?” You only made a noise of discontentment when you realized the chips were gone and you found the empty bag instead. “What’s there to say?” you sat on the couch with a huff. It was clear as day he was finding some form of entertainment in your disdain and instead of comforting you he sat as well and started flicking through channels. He knew you’d blow up eventually, just like him you were a ticking time bomb of rage. All it took was him to glance at you with a raised eyebrow for you to cave and start shouting.

“Okay what the actual fuck man?!!?”

“Excuse me?”

“DUDE! You can clearly tell I’m pissed off and you aren’t saying shit!” To which he laughed and that only made you wanna explode even more.

“You know I love it when you’re pissed,” Your face was red with anger at this point but he continued, “The hell am I supposed to do. I’m shit with feelings and you know it!” Fists balling up with raise you went and punched him hard in the shoulder he laughed even harder. “Look mate, we aren’t gonna get anywhere by talking.”

He began to stand up and wander over to where his golf clubs were stashed. He grabbed a pretty hefty one and handed it to you before setting up his mattress on the wall. “Go nuts, just don’t hit the walls” He turned off the tv turned up the radio and you fucking beat the shit out of that mattress. You went at it for at least a good thirty minutes before finally stopping.

“Better?”

You grunted in response. You dropped the club and sat back on the couch, only to lay your head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around you and turned off the music. The silence filled the air as you watched the storm from out the window. You could feel him staring at you. "Get caught in the rain again?" "...yeah."

You hate how many times this has happened before. How many times you've had to come here so you didn't blow up on some innocent bystander. guilt gnawed at your stomach, and your rage had completely fizzled out leaving you in a… melancholy mood.

You tried to find a spark of emotion to express because that's what you and him do around each other, express everything… but it's gone. You're just… tired and hungry.

The hungry part was normal, eating food was always a battle of whether to let you enjoy the satisfaction or to try to make yourself feel better 'for longer' by not eating. The chips were the only thing that sounded good today and they were gone. A bird passed by and ate a worm, you frowned.

"Hey…"

For once he was trying to be gentle. He moved slowly closer to you, well as close as he could. He knocked his knee against yours successfully pulling you from your mind.

"Hm?"

"Let's go get food."

"I'm not hungry."

He just kinda sighed and closed his eyes for a moment,"you were looking for chips earlier, you probably haven't eaten all day." He wasn't lying and you just scooched further from him on the couch, in his mind it proved the point, "... Please?"

As if on cue one of his housemates called from upstairs, "MONTY! COME GET FOOD!"

“Well?”

“Well what?”

“Do you want to willingly come or do I have to drag you?”

You sorta half rolled your eyes and watched him stand up. His eyes were open and held mischief and destruction, you realized he was being completely serious and would 100 percent carry me upstairs and make sure I your head would get knocked against the doorway thus not wanting a concussion you stand but very grumpily.

You both make your way up the stairs except you kind of freeze when you reach the top. Freddy, one of the popular kids from school, stood in front of you. Unfortunately he got caught in the cross fires when people were trying to put you out. You only had a few classes with him but you knew him well enough from that experience. He smiled awkwardly and looked at monty. “Are you two gonna eat?”

“I’m not-” “Yes.”

Freddy raised a curious brow at Monty but he didn’t question it. All of you made your way to the dinner table and you all sat together. It was awkward to say the least.

You didn’t talk much, trusting Monty to keep the conversation going while you picked at your food. In all honesty you wanted to back bydownstairs, to hide away in the little angry safe space that you two have created for each other. Eventually dinner and dishes were done and Monty dragged you back downstairs. You were afraid you’d disappointed him.

“Hey- fuck- I’m-” He got mad at the words and kicked the couch in frustration before turning back to you- “You’re really feeling like shit huh?”

You couldn’t look at him. Afraid he’d be angry or harsh about your feelings. Everyone was always rude or harsh about your feelings.

“I’m just feeling… sensitive” You heard him choke back a laugh. “What kind of uh… sensitive?” “just… hurt?” You could hear him sigh, he sat on the couch and you made a move to leave.

“I’ve gotta go home before my parents kill me. I’ll see you tomorrow,” and then you left. You didn’t bother to grab your bag or clothes, even after you got home you didn’t put burn cream on your neck or back. You just laid in bed and dealt with the pain. Your parents didn’t come home that night. Only showing up while you were getting ready for school.

Once more, you felt the familiar feeling of anger bubbling up. You were angry… again.

crumb is out of this world!

I don't fucking know but I do know there's this kid in my grade who's a total asshat named Richard so let's just say he's where the whole 'Dick is short for Richard" thing started.

you: suck my dick me, an intellectual: inhale my richard

This whole post gives "What Remains of Edith Finch" vibes

I hate the “open floor plan” that everyone is obsessed with in houses now. I want nooks and crannies and bizarre floor plans. I don’t need to be able to see what someone is doing on the other side of the house. I want places to hide and lurk and dwell in the shadows. I am the beast who awaits in the labyrinth

Hi another guy with tits here I whole heartedly agree

afab people should be allowed to be shirtless like whenever. maybe even all the time. free the titty protect the city ya know?

Please stop seeing politics as an identity and start seeing it as a collective means for change