#[ now i can get to the starters i owe !! im SO SORRY !! i took so long it's been rly bad n stressful for me over the past while n hh im sry

[glorywaited]

GUYS !! CAN SOMEONE BE PROUD OF ME PLS !! i just did a speed run on all the birthday asks i had left in my inbox that’s more than i’ve write in a long time n i’m still so sick today rip !! but i did it aa !!

they’re queued up over the next like week but !! if u sent one make sure to check that i answered it cause i kno tumblrs been weird with notifs n mentions lately ?? but !! if i didn’t answered it n it’s not in my queue then i didn’t get it since i didn’t skip any of them n made sure to answer every single one i got !! thank u to everyone who loved cass on her brithday it means sm to me n i love u all !!

[normal-thoughts-official]

With a little help from your friends (the help is praise kink and the friend is your boyfriend)

Who would have thought that fucking your boyfriend senseless cures dysphoria.

Alternatively: being a dom is actually something that can be so gender,

Fandom: It Lives (Visual Novels)

Pairing: Andy Kang/Tom Sato

Additional tags: let's see, mild mentions of transphobic and racist comments, Comfort Sex, the filthiest comfort sex uve ever seen but WHATEVER, dom andy kang, sub tom sato, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Dom/sub Play, Collars, Praise Kink, basically someone says transphobic shit and then tom rides him and talks about how wonderful andy is, except tom has also been in denial for a few days and he's super horny, and andy gets in domspace and everything is great and nothing hurts, Fluff and Smut, Humor, cuz u know these two are incapable of taking anything too seriously, Established Relationship, oh they're both in college and they go to the same college cuz i said so, set after the events of it lives beneath, that's it I think, trans author if that matters to you

Read it on Ao3

Andy isn't having a great day. It's not a terrible, clawing-at-his-chest-trying-to-deal-with-dysphoria kind of day, but he's been trying out this "not comparing everything to the worst possible scenario" thing his therapist has been talking about, so still, not a great day.

The thing is, he thought college would be easier. And it is, in a lot of ways. For starters, there is no evil monster spectre trying to kill him, which gives college at least 5 points over high school. And his uni has a pretty solid queer club, so he knows other trans people there. Some of them are even non-white. Some of them he even actually, truly likes. And most of the time, he feels like he has a place to turn to, and people to support him. He's not alone. He has people who get him. And that makes all the difference.

But basketball is still a nightmare, and his knee still hurts when it's cold, and winter is officially starting now.

People still hesitate to pass the ball to him, and it's frustrating, because Andy fought so hard to earn his old team's trust and now he's back at square zero. And well, Andy has been gaining this team's trust, because he's good, goddamn it, and his team owes at least the last three victories to him. He's not hesitant to say that, especially because otherwise no one will. And he can see that they look at him differently now - nod at him in the hallways, at least, talk to him in the locker room, pass him the fucking ball if his position is very, very open.

But if he weren't trans and Asian, he wouldn't have had to work so hard to get all of that - or well, just that, really. He has a full sports scholarship despite the fact that he had a broken leg, had to retake his last year of high school, and doesn't even have the body type for basketball. If he weren't Asian, if he weren't trans, his team would have assumed his greatness from day one. Instead, he has to show it to them time and time again only to get them to reluctantly admit maybe he's not bad. No one calls him "triple threat" anymore, but he still has to work three times harder than anyone else, and it's frustrating.

And usually Andy can deal with it, but right now his knee hurts, and he can't afford that because he'll lose everything he's worked for if his teammates know that his fucking knee hurts. So, he braved training and then he got the fuck out of there without even changing so no one would see him wince. Which means he's still in basketball shorts, which are short, in the cold, which means his leg hurts more.

At times like these, he's thankful he never got the chance to go through with his promise to break his other leg kicking Noah's ass. Because he would have, and then both his legs would be hurting right now, and two legs that hurt every time it's cold is just too many legs.

No comparing to the worst possible scenario, he tells himself. Therapy is so hard. If he had known there would be homework, he would have thought twice about going.

And that's, apparently, the cue for his phone to go off. Andy smiles, knowing who it is even before he opens the message, because only one person messages him during class, and it's the only person he wants to hear from right now.

Tom <3 sent you a message

Grinning like a fool, he opens it.

Tom <3: dude, im horny af rn. the fuck

Finally, good news, Andy thinks, smiling. Then he remembers why Tom is so horny, and suddenly this day is great, actually.

He quickly types a reply.

You: who wouldve thought that 3 days of denial would make this happen

Tom <3: ill have u kno i was very good at holding it together before today

You: yeah, dw. soon u wont have to hold it anymore ;)

Tom <3: that flirt was terrible, dude

You: said the guy whos calling me dude for the second time in this conversation

Tom <3: what else should i call u? 😩

Andy thinks for a second. Tom and him do longer-term denial every once in a while, but they aren't in a 24/7 relationship. Does Andy really want to go there right now? Yes. Well, that was fast. Okay then.

You: how about "sir"

Tom's reply comes fast as lightning.

Tom <3: Yes, Sir.

Andy smirks at himself.

You: uve been hoping that id say that, havent u?

Tom types for just a little longer this time.

Tom <3: Yes, Sir.

----

Many things are wrong with the world, and Andy doesn't mean to make light of the other things, but the fact that Andy can't simply go and fuck his boyfriend whenever he wants is definitely one of them. It should be, like, financial compensation or something. We're so sorry the school environment is transphobic, here, have a free sex pass. Sounds fair to him. But instead, he still has two hours of classes to go through, and Andy is a better guy than he wishes he was, so he tells Tom to pay attention to class instead of sexting him, because he doesn't want Tom to struggle even more with his course when he had already had to leave it once. God damn true love or whatever.

The point is, by the time classes are finally over, his day is back to not being that great; he's tired, and his leg hurts. He gets to their car after Tom does, and Tom takes one look at him, and says, "I'm driving".

Andy crosses his arms. "Why?"

"Because your leg hurts," Tom answers, rolling his eyes and taking Andy's bag from him and putting it in the trunk.

Andy looks down at his legs. He wasn't limping. There aren't any bruises. How the hell-

"It's cold and you're in shorts. I'm not an idiot, dude."

Right. Yeah. Right. Of course. Tom knows. It's… It's alright.

"Bad day at training?" Tom asks, slowly, sympathetically, and Andy feels himself settle in his skin a little bit.

"The usual," he answers, getting inside, and, as always, Tom gets the hint.

---

Their uni's dorms are gender-segregated because these guys have still not gotten the memo that people of the same gender fuck; and Andy wasn't willing to deal with cis college guys' bullshit, much less cis college girls' bullshit; and the uni wouldn't let him simply pick Tom as his roommate. So, they rented out a beat up apartment right next to it instead. It took a little longer to get there, but it wasn't a lot longer, and well, it was worth it.

Tom gets inside, still carrying Andy's bag because he's transphobic and unfair and had taken it and bolted up running so Andy wouldn't have a chance to argue with him. And Andy can't run after him with his leg hurting, which kind of proves Tom's point that he should carry Andy's bag. All in all, Tom is the worst, and he turns up the heat as soon as he gets inside and sits Andy down on the bed, kneeling in front of him to take a look at Andy's knee.

He's silent for a while, massaging his knee until Andy sighs and throws his head back, before Tom plants a little kiss on his knee and looks up at him. Andy's knee always stops hurting when Tom kisses it better. It's a little embarrassing, if Andy is being honest, but still- nice. Really nice.

They stay for a little longer like this, Tom humming and massaging his knee and Andy not meeting his eyes, until the question inevitably comes.

"What happened?" Tom asks, not letting up with the smooth movements of his hands, his eyes big and sincere with worry.

"Nothing. Just the cold. You know how my knee gets."

"I meant, for you to leave practice without putting some warmer clothes on."

Andy looks away. "It was nothing."

"Dude, are you expecting me to go, 'okay, yeah, that totally makes sense and I believe you', or…?"

Andy laughs, despite himself, and throws his good leg up in an almost-kick to pretend he's retaliating. "Don't be an ass."

"I'm not. Come on, Andy. You know you can tell me."

"It's nothing, it's just- Kyle-"

"Oh boy."

Andy laughs. "Yeah." But then he grows serious, "the thing is, he doesn't mean any harm, you know? I know he's not saying it to hurt me, and so that just means that, like... that it's true."

Tom's hands stop their movements, rubbing soothing circles around his knee instead. "What did he say?"

Andy doesn't look at him. "He asked me why I didn't stay on the women's team. Said that I could have an advantage, cuz Asian people are androgynous anyway, so no one would notice that I was taking hormones."

Tom just stares at him in shock for a moment.

"And I was like, 'dude, I've been on T for three years, I'm pretty sure they would notice the changes'. And he was like, 'yeah, but you still look like a lot of Asian girls with short hair, you could write it off if you wanted', and I just…" He trails off.

Tom waits in silence for a second, seeing if Andy finds his words, before asking, "Is Kyle, like, okay?"

Andy scoffs. "I didn't try and fight him, if that's what you're asking."

"No, I mean, does this dude have a screw loose or something?"

"He's very bad at figuring out what is or isn't offensive, yeah, but it's not like he really cares, he just won't go out of his way to antagonize me."

"No, I just- Andy, even when you were a little kid with huge pigtails, anyone would have to be crazy to see you as a girl."

Andy bites the inside of his lip. "You're just saying that."

"I'm not. It's just wrong, man. It was so obvious that it was wrong. Anyone could tell. There's nothing about you that says 'girl' to anyone who's looking."

Andy sighs, finally risking looking at Tom's eyes. There's overwhelming sincerity there, and Andy instinctively looks away. "I guess. Maybe. I don't know. It just got me thinking... Maybe T didn't change anything. Maybe I look exactly the same, maybe it was just hopeful thinking that had me thinking it would change anything, maybe it's just- pointless to even try-"

"No, no, come on," Tom says, and the interruption is so sudden it makes Andy look at him again, just in time to see Tom shaking his head vigorously. "There's no way you believe that. What about this bad boy over here?" He smiles, reaching out softly to caress Andy's neck. "You have more of an Adam's Apple than me, dude. And we both know you don't need T to be a guy, but thinking it made no difference is just crazy and you know it. What about those dry pecs? These broad shoulders of yours? Your voice, I mean, come on. You even smell different, man. How can it be pointless, if even your scent is different?"

Andy looks to the side again, but he can feel himself smile. "Well, when you put it like that..."

Tom gets up, but stays close, putting his hand on Andy's cheek, slowly, as if testing the waters, before turning him slightly to look at him. "Andy. Kyle is an idiot and a transphobic racist who's too damn lazy to realize how fucked up he is. And you shouldn't have to deal with that, and I'm sorry, and I will set him on fire."

Andy laughs. "You can't keep threatening to set every shitty teammate I have on fire."

"I can, because it keeps making you laugh," Tom says, smiling. Well. Andy can't argue with that. "My point is, you wouldn't listen to a word this dude says if it were about anyone else, so don't listen to him when he talks about you, okay? T or no T, you're no girl, and you don't look like a girl, and regardless of whether or not Kyle's dumb ass noticed it, your transition has been doing you good. Remember when your voice started to crack and get all weird? I've never seen anyone be that happy about it."

Andy laughs. "It was pretty awful."

"No, it was great, 'cause you loved it. Do you want me to pull out the 'before' pictures we took in case this happened? Look at yourself, dude. You fit so much better in your own skin, you know? And like, you've always been gorgeous, but-"

"Come here," Andy interrupts, pulling him down because Tom is standing and Andy is sitting and Andy is already height-challenged. And Tom goes willingly, carefully straddling Andy's lap and meeting him in a kiss. Finally, Andy thinks.

Tom kisses him softly, slowly, one hand resting on the back of Andy's head and the other draped lazily over his shoulder, as he usually does, all gentle and a little hesitant, and Andy is having none of that. So he grabs Tom's hair and deepens the kiss, bringing him closer until their chests are flushed together and he can feel Tom's hips mindlessly making little circles against Andy's belly.

They separate - or well, stop kissing, really, because Tom is still as close to Andy as physically possible, and Andy feels about ready to shoot anyone who tries to push him further away. Tom's a little breathless, and his hips are still making these almost imperceptible movements against Andy, and Andy realizes that he's still grabbing Tom's hair and that he's a little breathless, too.

Tom looks down at him for a second, as if debating something with himself, before saying, "and like, not to be horny during a serious moment, but since we're talking about the effects of T... Andy. Andy. Your clit. Fuck. It's so huge now, and it's got a visible head and you can fuck my face and everything, and I could sing it praises for a week and probably will if you don't stop me right now."

"Hmm, but I like it when you sing me praises," he smiles. "Keep going."

"God, I was hoping you'd say that. Do you have any idea how much I've been thinking about it today? I didn't hear a single word anyone said to me, all I could think about was you fucking my face, pulling my hair, making me worship you and beg to be allowed to suck you off, I wanna serve you like you're my God." Tom's hips start to jerk up, more visibly this time, shameless, and see, this is why Andy's been really, really liking this whole denial thing - Tom has only started to explore his subby side recently, a little ashamed of it to admit it to anyone, even himself. But when he's horny enough, he gets shameless and desperate about what he wants, and god, nothing is more beautiful than Tom when he asks for what he wants. He feels something growing inside of him, not sure if it's warmth or heat, but seeing Tom like that, wanting him, needing him, definitely makes him feel so much better.

"Yeah?" Andy asks, tracing a finger over Tom's shoulder, close to his neck, just to give him goosebumps.

"Fuck yes, I want it so bad, and you deserve it too, Andy… Sir. You're the best Sir I could ask for, I just want… Want you to use me, want you to cum on me, want to kiss you all over and worship you and pleasure you, you're so gorgeous..." He hides his face in Andy's shoulder for a bit, but his hips don't stop moving. He whines, "Andy..."

"Address me properly," Andy snaps, feeling the edges of worry clear from his mind and giving way to that wonderful feeling of clear-mindedness, of power, where nothing matters but his own pleasure. "And maybe I'll give you what you want, if you earn it."

Tom nods, hips full on thrusting now, and Andy snaps again. "Stay still."

And he does, immediately, without question, biting his lip and keeping his eyes shut with effort. Andy can feel his thighs clenching and spasming over his, trying to keep himself from moving, trying to be good. He hums in appreciation, but doesn't praise him for it, not yet.

"I'll get you ready," Andy explains, before reaching to Tom's hair, and starts to undo his bun, as slow as possible, just to watch him squirm. He gets so impatient when Andy undresses him, which is why Andy never misses a chance to drag it out.

He begins by removing Tom's jacket, sliding his hands slowly over his shoulders, then down his back, feeling the firm muscle there, digging his nails just a little bit so he can see Tom's eyes flutter in bliss. When the jacket falls to the floor, Andy begins circling the hem of his shirt, sliding until his hands are back on front, fingers just close enough to Tom's cock for him to feel Tom tense in his hands, so damn sensitive to his touch, so needy. God, he can't get enough of this, but he pretends that he doesn't notice, lets Tom try and keep himself together as Andy's hands slide over his belly, then chest, over the shirt, collarbone, wrapping and resting on Tom's throat just so he feels the threat of it, before Andy finally grabs the back of the shirt's collar and tugs, taking it off. Then he slides his hands back down, making sure to run a finger just over the sensitive spot where his pecs end, then lower, over his ribcage, belly, hips, next to the bruises where Andy had grabbed him the night before, then back to the middle, just over the bulge in his pants, and Tom finally breaks and jerks up slightly, letting out a little moan.

"Sir," he whines, "please, please, I-" Andy continues to circle the head of his cock with his finger, "please!"

"Patience," is all he says, before going back to his painfully light movements, imagining Tom's needy cock twitching under his fingers, imagining the effort Tom makes not to thrust up or keep begging for more, just because Andy told him not to. "You know how much I like playing with your pretty little cock. You said you wanted to serve me, didn't you?"

"Yes- yes, Sir."

He hums, noncommittally, not looking at him. "Good." He teases the tip of his clothed cock some more, enjoying the way his mind zeroes on that, the way he feels like he has all the power and the time in the world. Finally, he pats Tom's thigh once. "Get off, and take off the rest of your clothes. Get the lube and a condom."

Tom gets up, a little shaky, and does as instructed, while Andy reaches down to the drawer under the bed where he keeps his dick's spine and a few of their toys. He gets the spine, then adjusts his packer briefs so he can put it on - best purchase of his life, really, those briefs. So much easier to use than a regular strap-on and it makes the packer sit over his clit just right, making a little suction and pressure. Andy couldn't be happier that he was already wearing them.

Tom gets back with everything he asked right in time for Andy to finish making his dick hard, and goes on to put the condom on and cover Andy's cock in lube with the kind of attention that makes Andy hold his breath. Tom's so careful, yet eager, and adoring, about it. Andy feels like the hottest guy in the world.

Once he gets permission, Tom sits on his cock, slowly, getting adjusted to it - admittedly, Andy went a little overboard when he bought his first cock. Andy waits until Tom is fully seated, littering his neck with little kisses and praise for how well he's taking him, how pretty he looks, until Tom looks fully comfortable and ready to start complaining if Andy doesn't start fucking him in earnest soon. That's when Andy shows him the other item he pulled from the drawer - Tom's favorite collar.

Tom's reaction is instantaneous. He throws his head back, moving over Andy's cock as he lets out a breathless, almost choked moan; the hands he had resting on Andy's shoulders suddenly squeezing full force in his need.

"God, you're such a whore," Andy says, casually, and Tom nods, even as he flushes. The collar is just a simple black one, with a little hoop for the leash, but inside they had it engraved with the words Andy's whore, and it left visible marks that could be seen for a few hours after they took it off. It never failed to drive Tom crazy, so it always drove Andy crazy, too. "Stay still," he warns, and Tom nods, breathing heavily, gripping Andy's shoulder as tight as he can as he stays frozen in place. Andy slowly puts it around his neck, checking with his finger to make sure it's not too tight, and the second he clasps it in place, Tom's whole body relaxes, a content little sigh escaping his lips, his face slack and blissed out. He likes being owned, so much. Andy can't get enough of it. "Good?" he asks, just to make sure it's not too tight.

"Perfect," Tom answers, the words leaving him in a sigh. Andy then ties the leash to the headboard, making sure that they're just far enough from it that he'll be feeling its pull the whole time. Tom lets out a moan. "Thank you, Sir."

Andy smirks. "Now, here's what I want you to do," he says, "you're going to ride me, just like that, and you're not going to come until I tell you to. You're definitely not going to come before I do. If you come close, you'll have to tell me. I want to hear you scream, so make as much noise as you want. Do you understand?"

Tom nods again, almost dizzyingly quick. "Yes, Sir."

"Good, then get to it."

Tom doesn't need to be told twice. He starts riding him, slowly at first, trying to find the perfect angle for Andy - not himself, Andy notices, pleased. Once it's perfect, Andy orders, "faster, slut,” and Tom obeys, as always, working up speed as he tries to keep himself upright, feeling the tug of his leash with every movement, moaning the whole time. “Good boy,” Andy says, and Tom’s responding whine is high pitched, embarrassing, needy. He gets even faster then, starting to babble as he keeps on working, and Andy just stays casually in place, not having to do a single thing while Tom works to give him pleasure.

"Fuck, you're so perfect, did you know that?" Tom asks, quickly sliding down on Andy's cock, making sure he puts all this weight in the end so Andy's cock will press down against his clit just the way he likes, making sure to go as deep as possible, "I've been dreaming of your cock for days, god, Sir, nothing's better than this," he hides his face in Andy's shoulder, speeding up even more, thighs shaking with the effort, and Andy puts a fist in his hair and pulls, watching as Tom throws his head back and lets out a scream, working even faster on Andy's cock. "Sir!," he whines, "oh, thank you, thank you, feels so good, oh my god, please, I'm gonna-"

"No, you won't," Andy interrupts, "I'm not even close to coming yet. Keep working, slut."

"Y-yes, Sir," he whines, going faster, deeper, and Andy makes it harder for him, keeps pulling at his hair to expose his neck, litters kisses and bites on his exposed throat, grabs his thigh and squeezes hard enough to bruise so Tom remembers he's his, his whore, his toy.

"I love it when you get like this," Andy says, doing his best to keep his tone even, even as he's a little breathless from pleasure, from power, "I bet you want to come so bad, don't you? If I'd just give you the word, you'd be making a mess of yourself, coming on my cock right now-"

"Fuck! Yes, yes, Sir, please, I'm so close."

Andy smiles. "No."

Tom whines, so cute, adorable, and Andy is nice enough to leave a little kiss on his shoulder, grounding, calming him down. Before going right back to torturing him, "no, you don't get to come for a long time yet. I want you just like this, on edge, tasting it…" Andy grins. "Tell me how close you are, baby."

"I'm- I'm so close-"

Andy slaps him in the face. "You can do better than that."

"Fuck, I feel like I'm going to explode, I'm so close, I want it so bad, and you feel so good, God, you have no idea what you do to me, Sir, your cock is so perfect, it hurts, I need it- need to cum on your cock, Sir, please-"

"No."

Tom chokes on a moan, and starts to go even faster. He lets out a little whine, something Andy thinks was supposed to be a word, but doesn't come close.

"See," Andy says, "this is why I won't let you come. Look at you - every time I tell you no, you get so desperate, so obedient - it's what you want, isn't it? You want me to keep telling you no, you want to know your pleasure doesn't matter, that you're just here to serve me."

"Yes! Yes, yes, yes-"

"Good, then keep going. And beg all you want- I like telling you no, too."

Tom does. He begs, and he says thank you when Andy denies him, again and again and again. Thank you, Sir, thank you for using me, for putting me in my place, I'm yours, I'm yours. And he keeps on praising Andy, praising his cock, his body, the way he fucks him and uses him, no one else makes me feel like this, no one deserves to be worshipped and served like you, Sir, I want to make you feel good-... Until even the clear-minded state of domspace begins to crumble and Andy feels nothing but pleasure, and confidence, and power, and he cums to the sound of Tom praising him and begging, once, twice, three times, until his head is clear again and everything, even the need to chase his own pleasure, is gone, and he just feels perfect.

"Stop," he orders Tom, who's still babbling more and more incoherently, endless praise and worship, and Andy finds that he worships Tom right back. "I want you to get my cock as deep inside you as you can, and stay still. I'm going to play with your dick for a while, and when I tell you to, you can come. You did well today, baby."

Tom nods, suddenly struggling to use his words. "T-thank you, Sir," he says, already frozen in place, thighs clenching with the effort not to move and also shaking with all the effort he did before.

Andy coos. "Poor baby. You were so good to me today. Let me take care of you."

"You always- always do, Sir," Tom replies, and Andy smiles.

He gives Tom a long, slow handjob, making sure Tom stays still through it, enjoying the way his thighs shake on top of Andy's, the pressure of Tom sitting tight on his cock, the way his arms also shake with effort where they rest around Andy's neck; Tom's pretty, exposed throat all marked up around his collar, his breathless little whines as Andy makes sure to do it just the way he likes it, makes his cock turn red with need; watches Tom bite his lip, because when he has to keep still he becomes so quiet and needy, even as the little whines go through his lips… Until Andy finally says, "come for me, baby," and Tom screams through an orgasm that lasts almost a minute, hanging on to Andy as tightly as he can to keep himself anchored through the pleasure.

And then Andy holds him, and Tom holds him back, and they hold each other.

----

A while later, they've cleaned up Tom's cum so it doesn't get all sticky on Andy's chest, and Andy's finally taken off those damn briefs - they're great for sex, but get pretty tight when you wear them for a long time - and Andy holds Tom against his chest. He's humming, contently, and if anyone had told him at the beginning of the day that he'd be comfortable enough to have someone close to him while he's fully naked, he'd - well, probably assume they meant Tom, but still be skeptical.

"How do you feel?" Tom asks after a little while, finally opening up his eyes and saying hello to the world.

"That's supposed to be my line," Andy laughs.

"I feel great. Perfect. Next time, I wanna do it for longer. A week? Let's try a week. Or two weeks…?"

Andy laughs. "Let's not make too big of a leap yet."

"Fine. A week sounds good. Great. And now that we've established that denial is totally bomb for me, how are you feeling?"

"Honestly? I'm feeling great, too," Andy admits, playing with a little stray of Tom's hair, swirling it around his finger, "I think I needed that, a little bit. Who'd have thought that having you ride me and praise my cock cures dysphoria."

"Every trans top on every forum I've ever visited."

"Let me have my moment of realization," Andy mumbles, faux-annoyed. Tom just laughs, holding him closer.

"I'm just glad I could help," he says.

"Please tell me you didn't ride my cock just to help."

"Well, no, in case you hadn't noticed, I was horny as fuck. I just tried to, you know. Use that to give you a little push. Since you wanted to. Y'know. Also, it was all true. So..."

"Thanks, love," Andy says, earnestly. "I love you."

"I love you more."

They bicker about it, and Andy's smiling the rest of the day.

[hellimagines]

Please, Don’t Take it Back -- Nathan Young

*My masterlist link can be found in my blog description*

Request: “Requesting shamelessly. If you have time can you do a Nathan/Reader where shes like his go to. He goes to her with all his problems and she helps him. And thensomething big happens and he realizes he hasnt been doing the same for her? Bonus points  if theres a sudden and aggressive declaration of love!  I love your face!!!” @stargazingwithcassidy

Summary: After another altercation with your boyfriend, you pick Nathan up from the Community Center, and the truth comes out.

Warnings: domestic abuse, graphic injury depictions

Pairing: Nathan Young x fem!reader

Word Count: 2,000+

A/N: Everyone, Cassidy is the best and I love them and please go give them a follow! Also, lemme know if you liked this bitch

“You know I love you… right?”

You paused, your palms pressed against the kitchen flooring of your boyfriend’s house. Blood dripped from your nose and the corner of your lip, dribbling onto the white tile below and causing tiny mouse-like puddles. Lifting your head you saw Drew knelt beside you, his face full of false concern and pity. His hand was gently placed on your shaking shoulders, his knuckles split, bruised, and bloody from all the punching and attacking he had done. His eyebrows were furrowed over his brown eyes, but they held no emotion.

“Right,” you replied simply, finally looking away so you could raise yourself onto shaking legs. You were forced to stumble over to the counter, your broken fingers gripping onto the marble to keep from falling back to your knees. Pain ricocheted from the tips of your fingers to the back of your shoulder blade, but you ignored it in favor of staying upright. A weak smile spread across your lips as you looked back to your attacker, trying to convince him (and yourself) that you were okay. “Can I go pick Nathan up now? His mum called earlier and she won’t be able to grab ‘im. I’ll be back within the hour.” It was a lie, Nathan had been the one texting you non-stop to grab a bite with him, and you weren’t planning on being back until later.

Drew looked at you carefully, still crouched beside your puddle of blood on the floor. He breathed in, “Fine. Be back by 4, or we’re going to have another talk, got it?”

“Yes, I’ll be back before then,” you nodded, willing yourself to straighten out as he stood up. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Now go.” Drew flicked his hand towards the door and you didn’t hesitate before scurrying away, tail metaphorically tucked between your legs.

You rushed to the car, practically stumbling over your own feet in your haste as the front door slammed behind you. Tears trickled down your face and mixed with your blood, causing pink droplets to fall from your chin. Opening the car door took you a minute, but once you were safely inside, you managed to finally take a handful of calming breaths. Your eyes were shut and your hands loosely gripped the steering wheel. You didn’t have much time to think about the past hour- Nathan was probably already waiting for you, and making him wait much longer would only cause a boatload of questions. So, with a deep, ragged breath, you drove away in pursuit of the Community Center and its resident dumbass.

--

“Oi, Cunt Face! Took you long enough, I’ve been out here for days!” Nathan howled across the parking lot, dramatically trudging himself over to your car. A cigarette hung from his pouting lips, but he flicked it away before approaching your car. “The starvation and dehydration has already started kickin’ in! I mean look at me! I’m skin and bones,” he cried, swinging open the door and sliding in.

“Nathan, you’ve always been skin and bones. Shut up,” you laughed quietly, pulling out of the parking lot without looking at your best friend.

Nathan gasped, “Are you skeleton shaming me right now? Because I don’t appreciate that.”

“You know what? Maybe I am- there’s too many skeletons out there, it’s like the pirate days all over again,” you giggled. “I mean honestly-”

“The hell’s happened to your face?” Nathan suddenly shouted, cutting you off and startling you into jerking the car. “You look like you’ve just gotten out of a fight ring- and lost!”

You laughed nervously, “D-Don’t worry about it, Nath’, just an accident. Besides, we all know I’d kick ass in a fight ring.” You were hoping that with enough jokes and playful laughs, Nathan would drop the subject.

But Nathan was an observant pissfire and rarely gave up on things he became fixated on. “Bullshit! That ain’t no accident, love. Your fingers are all fucked, and your face is every shade of black and blue in existence. What happened?”

You let your eyes wander over to Nathan briefly, before focusing them back on the empty road ahead. You didn’t want to tell your curly-haired best friend what had truly happened to you for a multitude of reasons. For starters, Nathan would try and shove you into a clinic, or worse, fix the injuries himself. Just the thought of Nathan attempting to fix your fingers made you shiver. Then, after making sure you were okay, he’d march his scrawny-ass over to Drew and pick a fight. A fight, he would no doubt lose. You had no intention of letting your best friend get mauled just because your boyfriend had a temper.

“(Y/N), please. Tell me what’s going on? It seems like every week you’ve got a new injury and a newly broken heart. I’m a jerk, yeah, but I’m not stupid. He’s hurtin’ you, isn’t he?” Nathan snarled- his soft voice now filled with enough venom to make his Irish accent nearly incoherent. “I’ll fuck him right up if he is. Make ‘im piss and vomit blood for months. ‘Ow’s that sound? Make sure ‘e never bothers you again.”

You sighed heavily. Gripping the steering wheel with your unbroken hand, you veered into an abandon store parking lot and shut off the car. Nathan was uncharacteristically quiet, probably sensing that you were finally about to open up. You shifted in your seat, pressing your aching back against the door so you could fully face him. His green eyes were narrowed with worry and concern, his lips pulled into a deep frown, and his fingers tugged on the various holes of his orange jumpsuit. Over the past few months, you had grown tired of constantly having to lie to everyone around you, including yourself. Drew didn’t love you, not anymore, and it hurt to admit. But you had to tell someone about what was going on; even if that someone had never taken anything seriously in his life.

“Just… just let me talk, okay? No interrupting, no nothing. Because if I stop I won’t get going again. Okay?” Nathan nodded, so you began. “We’ve been dating for like two years, yeah? And shit was amazing in the beginning: flowers, books, trips, coffee, texts, car rides, meeting everyone, all that crap. But after the first year, he got mean. He was controlling and kept looking over my shoulder. Everything I did and everywhere I went, he was there. Then, one night, I went out without tellin’ him. I figured that a night away would do the both of us good. I went out with you and the others, smoked a bit and fell asleep on your floor. Shit we used to do all the time. But when I got home that morning, he was… he was mad. Like, really mad. He hurt me until I passed out, and when I woke up, he had gotten me flowers and another book. So, to me, things were okay. One time thing, yeah? But then it became a monthly thing. Then a weekly. And now, I’m lucky if a day goes by that I don’t get slapped or something. I don’t know how to get out of it. I don’t know what to do, Nath’.”

After your admittance, the car was filled with a heavy silence. You had tears falling freely from your eyes, while Nathan had barely-concealed ones that he refused to let fall. He needed to be strong for you, the same way you had been strong for yourself. Nathan’s heart hurt at the fact that you had been dealing with near-constant abuse for over a year. That he had no idea about any of it, and that he wasn’t there for you or there to help you during any of it. He had been so focused on his own issues, his own demons, that he didn’t take a second to consider the devil by your side.

“I’m sorry,” he began, the words tumbling from his quivering lips. “I’m sorry that you felt that you couldn’t trust me, or anyone, to help you. I’m sorry that you haven’t felt true love and happiness, that wasn’t followed by being hurt, for two years. I’m sorry that I wasn’t there to protect you like I promised I would. I’m sorry, for everything.”

“It’s not your fault-”

Nathan shook his head, “I’m not saying it’s my fault. And it’s not yours, either. It’s Drew’s fault for being a fucked sack of shit. But, what I’m saying, is that I’m sorry. And even though I haven’t been there for you lately, I’m here now. I will do everything in my immortal power to keep you from ever going back to him, from ever getting hurt by him. I love you too much to see another one of these injuries on you. Come back to the Community Center with me, sleep there. We’ll grab some food, like we planned, and then figure all this shit out,” Nathan said, reaching across the console to grab your uninjured hand. “But first, let’s go to the clinic to get this hand fixed.”

“I can’t go to the clinic, they’ll ask questions- but wait, what did you say?” Your brain was turning in mushy circles after Nathan’s speech, focusing on one part of his words, and then all of them, and then none. But one thing did stand out and stayed circling your mind.

“That you can sleep with me at the Center. Mum kicked me out, remember?”

“No, not about that. The love part, you said you love me,” you whispered, your mouth opened in awe. Nathan suddenly looked panicked. His worried face was now a deep red, and he began spluttering over nothing. “Don’t take it back. Please, don’t take it back,” you spit out quickly, gripping his hand tightly. “I love you too. Fuck, Nathan, I’ve always loved you.”

Nathan’s breath hitched and his eyes widened impossibly more, but his face became soft. “You have? Oh God, (Y/N), I should’ve said something sooner! I could’ve made you happy and you wouldn’t have had to deal with that douchecanoe!”

You giggled softly at Nathan’s words, a genuine smile gracing your features. “I should’ve said something, too. But at least we know now.”

“Yeah, you can love me now instead of him,” Nathan huffed, but you shook your head.

“Doesn’t work like that, Nath’, and you know it. I’m gonna need time to heal from all this, and I don’t want to use you as my medicine. I want you to be there for me, but I don’t want to rely on you to be happy. Only once I’ve officially broken up with him and know I’m safe, will I consider us dating. For now… for now, let’s just get these fingers dealt with, grab some food, and head back to the Center.”

Nathan nodded quickly in understanding. “Of course, (Y/N/N). I’ll be here for you as long as you need me to. Best friends ‘til the end of time,” he joked, flashing you a wink as you started the car back up.

“Best friends ‘til the end of time,” you confirmed with an equally goofy smile on your face. You pulled out of the parking lot suddenly feeling lighter, as though the weight of the world had been lifted off your shoulders. You still had a long way to go, and you weren’t even close to being out-of-the-clear, but you were one step closer to safety; to happiness. And that was all that mattered.

--

All Writing Taglist (OPEN): @teageowen @mads---world @alex--awesome--22 @hxdesworld @frozenhuntress67 @samanthasmileys @simonsaysyasss @marvelismylifffe @bademliimagnum @coastalmason @wherewecangazeintothestars

[soulfood-fics]

Oreo - Chapter 1

Heyy! This is my first fic, hopefully its not trash!

Pairing: John Boyega + Black!OC

Inspiration: John did an interview where he said a girl broke up with him after seeing him on a Star Wars billboard, this story is a variation of that but with my own little twist. 

I made it an original Character but I hope everyone can identify with it. 

Enjoy!

Waking up to the Living Single theme song and the brightness of her TV, Akida feels the covers around her trying to silence her phone. Squinting her eyes to focus on the screen she realizes it’s not her usual alarm but a facetime call from her older sister Bianca. After letting it ring, she decides to answer and point the camera towards the ceiling.

“Hey lil sis!” Bianca’s chipper voice made Akida groan.

“It’s too early for this B,” rolling over so that only her forehead and eyes were visible on screen “…what do you want?” she says, rolling to the other side of the bed and hiding her head under the pillow.

“Girl it is 10am on a Saturday, get up and open the door.”

Slightly confused, Akida brings the phone directly to her face, “You’re here?” The question was answered by a knock on the door.

She’d forgotten she was supposed to do her sisters hair this morning. Jumping out of bed, turning off her TV and scrambling to make her room look decent, Akida put clothes and papers anywhere they’d fit. Just as she stuffs the last pile of clothes in the closet, Bianca knocks again. Rushing out of her room she makes a mental note to thank her roommate for cleaning the kitchen before opening the door. “What took you so long? You know I’ve seen your room before.” Grabbing each other into a tight hug, “I missed you, B” Akida whispers into her sisters hair. “Oh sure you did. You don’t call, you don’t write. I’m tired of being treated like a bald headed stepchild.” 

Closing the door behind her sister, she’d forgotten how dramatic she was. “You live two freeway exits away. Relax.”

~Only being two years apart they hadn’t seen each other much growing up, having different mothers and estranged relationships with their father. They reconnected sometime in high school when Akida’s relationship with their father had gone rotten. Both had been daddy’s girls but at a young age they became aware that the family dynamic wasn’t normal. The visits with their father became shorter and less frequent and eventually stopped. After high school graduation, Akida went to college in the Bay Area to be close to Bianca who had started a family of her own. Her long-time boyfriend Donovan and their adorable three year old son Jacob were the perfect IG black family goals~

“Ready to get started?” Bianca asks as she turns on the living room TV and gets comfortable on the floor in front of the couch. Akida’s mother made her learn how to do hair, especially her own. She’d become her sisters designated braider since she was the only one who knew how to cornrow. Grabbing the rattail comb and other supplies, she sits behind her sister and begins to part her hair.

“Can you do a little design in the front and a second row of braids in the back? That way it’s versatile.” Bianca asks, making Akida raise her eyebrows in surprise.

“For someone who doesn’t know how to cornrow, you’re making a lot of requests.”

Turning around to face her sister, Bianca says “I am a proud member of the BGWCB club!” They both laughed “The what?” she asks.

“It’s the Black Girls Who Can’t Braid club, we are underrepresented and deserve to be acknowledged” Bianca says between chuckles.

Still laughing she goes back to parting the hair into rows and starts braiding. A brief silence falls over them before Bianca changes the subject. “Dad called”, she says as more of a statement than a conversation starter. “He asked about you.” She adds. Not wanting to entertain the topic Akida stays quiet focusing on making clean parts and even sections. Turning around again, Bianca continues “Kiddie he’s sick and it doesn’t look good for him. I think you two should talk.”

Not wanting to hear any more of it Akida snaps back “And if you want these plaits tight I think you should turn around.” Bianca decides to drop the subject and they sit in silence as Akida finishes her hair, sharing the occasional laugh at the Insecure rerun.

Once she finishes the last braid, Akida puts coconut oil on the parts between the braids and shea butter on the ends, “done” she mumbled and moves to get up from the couch headed to her room. Bianca catches up to her sister and hugs her from behind, “Thank you Kiddie!” she sings “And I’m sorry for bringing dad up, I know it’s still a sensitive topic for you.”

“It’s fine.”

“Ooo why don’t we go out for lunch? Donovan’s mom has the baby so I’m free.” Just the mention of food makes Akidas stomach growl, reminding her she hadn’t eaten. “Come on. It’s my treat” Bianca pleads.

“Fine, it’ll be my payment”

Clapping her hands together, Bianca heads back to the living room. Before Akida closes the bathroom door to get dressed she hears “Oh can we take your car? I don’t want to lose my parking space.”

“Sure.” She says rolling her eyes

They decided to go to Akidas favorite Filipino street food spot on Fruitvale. She ordered chicken lumpia and 24 count of their signature G-Fire wings.

“So how are things with you and uh… um.. What’s his name?” Bianca asks before taking a drink of water.

“His name is Elijah and you already know we broke up.” Bianca never approved of Elijah or his relationship with Akida. When they had broken up a few months ago Bianca wanted to throw a party.

“Oh yeah Elijah, so y’all don’t talk still?” Bianca was pressing for answers that she already knew. Akida could tell she was up to something.

“No we do not. Why?” she answered.

“Oh no reason... So would you mind if I gave that guy over there your number?” Bianca tilted her head towards the end of the line to order. Akida turned, moving her braids from her shoulder and saw him. He was cute. Cute in a ‘nice to look at but don’t touch or else he’ll ruin your life’ kind of way. Since she had just gotten her life together, Akida thought it best to leave him alone. “Im not interested.” She said and turned to dip her lumipa in the sweet and sour sauce.

All while they ate Akida had tried to sneak glances at him. Unfortunately, she wasn’t as slick as she thought and they locked eyes for one second too many. Bianca caught their brief interaction also, “Lier, do you want me to get him over here?” she asks and raises her hand to get his attention.

“EXCUSE ME! You with the Africa tattoo! Yeah, Hi can you come here plea- OW.” Her sentence was cut short by Akidas foot connecting with Bianca’s knee.

“Nope! Sorry, big mistake. Stay in your seat please, Sir.” Akida’s attempt for damage control fails as the man continues to get up from his seat and carry his food towards them. “Oh god no. What did you just do?” she whispers harshly towards Bianca who’s already switched seats to make room for the handsome stranger. “I’m getting you a man. Now shut up and be nice,” she whispers back.

Smiling through the pain in her knee, Bianca stretches a hand out to greet him, “Hi, I’m Bianca. Nice to meet you.” pointing towards Akida and the open seat next to here “ my sister and I noticed you eating alone and thought you might want some company. Please have a seat.”

Putting his plate of food down on the table he shakes Bianca's hand, “Nice to meet you. I’m John.”

Oh god, his accent Akida thought, I’d let him hold me.

She continued to imagine what his arms would feel like around her until her thoughts were interrupted, “And THIS is my sister Akida, she's a little shy.” she hadn't noticed the hand in front of her. Internally yelling at herself for missing the opportunity to touch him, Akida strains a smile. He mimics her smile back to her, “it’s alright love, I wouldn't talk to me either.” he says with a laugh and sat down, continuing the conversation with Bianca.

Akida waits for an opening to interject into the conversation.

“I love your accent, where are you from?” Bianca asks.

“London but I’m Nigerian ” he answered. There it was, her opening.

“Oh really that's cool.” dumbass, she thought, out of all the words you know that's what you put together.

He didn't seem to care though, he was just happy she was talking to him. “Yeah, it is pretty cool.”

The just sit and smile at each other for a few seconds.

Not wanting the conversation to go stale Bianca interjects, “Oh Kiddie, tell him about the Jollof Festival.”

“Yeah Kiddie, tell me about it.” John was teasing. He turned in his chair to face her.

It didn't matter how many clothes she had on, the way he looked at her made her feel exposed and completely bare.

“There’s a festival downtown where different vendors have jollof from different places. But it's mostly Ghanaian and Nigerian vendors there, they're a little competitive.” Akida explains.

“And Nigerian Jollof wins. Hands down.” John said matter-of-factly

“I wouldn't know, I’ve never had it before.”

“You have a Jollof festival but you’ve never had jollof ? That's the only way to have it.”

Akida shrugged, “My ex boyfriend was Ghanaian so he only took me to the Ghanaian vendors.”

“Well he’s an idiot,”

“I couldn’t agree with you more!'' Akida and John had both forgotten about Bianca. She was quiet which isn't normal for her. “Sorry to interrupt whatever's going on here,” gesturing to John and Akida, “but we’ve got to go.”

“Awe do we?” realizing what she’s said, Akida quickly corrects herself, “I mean yes we do, sorry John it was really nice meeting you.”

“Nice meeting you as well, both of you.” John stands letting Akida move from the table, “ Akida I’d like to see you again, if that's alright. Maybe take you out for some real jollof.”

Before she could answer Bianca hands John a napkin with her sister’s number on it, “Oh I thought you’d never ask,” pulling Akida towards the exit, “Bye John.”

As soon as they're out the door, Bianca starts to yell, “DOYOUKNOWWHOTHATWAS?,” stopping in front of Akida. “I didnt recognize him at first but then it hit me!”

“You know him?” 

“Yes! You dont?” 

“No. I’ve never seen him before.” Akida gets distracted by a text, 

Bye Kiddie, Let me know when you want that jollof.

Looking up from her phone, shes met by another screen. Bianca held up a picture, it was John holding a light saber. Her heart dropped “There’s no way.” 

@ghostfacekill-monger @honeychicana

[peach-mangos]

New Year’s Eve

☾ yoo kihyun/im changkyun ☾ holiday fluff/fluff/humor/meet cute/neighbors au...aka the changki new year’s eve au no one asked for lmao ☾ 2.6k ☾ can also read here

“What do you want?”

“Well good morning sunshine—at least you’re up, kind of surprised I must say” Jooheon chuckles on the other side of the line.

“Yeah well—pretty hard to get any sleep when the whole population on this damn apartment hall is up and about causing a ruckus” Changkyun grumbles, and just as he throws open his apartment door, a group of teenage kids zoom past him blowing party horns and leaving in their wake a trail of party tinsel.

“Kyunnie, it’s New Year’s Eve, lighten up. Of course people are excited and happy, they’re celebrating the end of a long ass exhausting year, new beginnings are always welcomed” Jooheon tells him, and Changkyun can’t help but roll his eyes.

He heads back into his apartment to retrieve a trash bag from his kitchen drawer and makes his way out once again.

“You know, in my opinion—every day is an opportunity for a new beginning—don’t understand why everyone and their damn mother lose their shit over this New Year bullshit”

“You know, you used to love celebrating New Year’s Eve until—”

“Whatever, I’m taking down all these damn decorations” Changkyun says cutting off his friend, “the regulations of our apartment complex doesn’t allow them for safety purposes”

“Dude” Jooheon laughs, “isn’t that a little too much?”

“I’m sorry, was there a reason for this call?” Changkyun asks shoving his cellphone between his ear and shoulder while trying to hold open a trash bag in one hand and ripping off “Happy New Year” decorations off the hallway walls with the other.

“Right, get showered, get dressed—we are going out tonight”

“Like hell we are” Changkyun chuckles bitterly and continues making his way down the hall ripping off decorations with a fiery purpose.

“Listen man, I know it’s been hard for you to celebrate New Year’s ever since Soobin—but damn it, we are doing something this year. We all let it slide last year because it was still pretty fresh, but not this year. You are not gonna sit in that apartment in your old man flannel pajamas and greet the year alone and bitter”

“Are you done?” Changkyun asks making his way towards the elevator.

“Yes” Jooheon concedes harrumphing at his friend.

With that, Chankgyun hangs up on his best friend and tries to close off the gate to the elevator.

“HOLD THE ELEVATOR PLEASE!” someone yells, and usually—well, usually Changkyun isn’t one to be an asshole— but he really isn’t in the mood to share an awkward elevator ride with some random stranger at the moment. So instead of holding the gate open as the unsuspecting stranger had asked, Changkyun rushes to close it.

As his crummy luck would have it though, the trash bag full of holiday decorations he was on his way to get rid of gets stuck between the gate, giving the stranger just enough time to reach the elevator.

“I know you heard me” the guy accuses, narrowing his eyes at Changkyun.

“Oh, sorry , I’m a little hard of hearing” Changkyun lies adjusting his hoodie and begrudgingly making space for the man to get in. He hates the fact that he has to do a double take because —upon closer inspection—his new elevator companion is quite the looker. Dressed to the nines beneath his cream colored winter coat in a silky red button up dress shirt buttoned down all the way to the center of his chest, nice black crispy ironed dress pants accompanied by shiny polished black dress shoes and hair slicked back.

“Are you a little blind as well, you literally saw me rushing towards you”

I wish, Changkyun thinks, a light chuckle escaping his lips. “You know, you’re kind of loud for such a small person” he muses, making the tiny handsome man blush.

“And you’re a little bit of a dick, but that’s none of my business, is it? Could you press the floor button now, please?”

Laughing at how easy it had been to ruffle the guys’ feathers, Changkyun obediently moves over and carries on with pressing the button to the apartment complex’s lobby.

Not even a minute into the elevator ride and the damn metal contraption begins to make a startling noise followed by staggering movements that cause both men to topple forwards in loss of balance.

“The hell was that?” the stranger asks, eyes wide and panicked.

“Think the elevator broke, genius” Changkyun sighs leaning against the metal wall.

“Broke? BROKE?!” Mr. Slicked Back hair wails, “it can’t be broke, I’m going to be late for work? Isn’t there an emergency button or something ?” he asks looking around franticly for the emergency button. He finds it behind a small door next to the button selection also containing a red emergency phone. “Hello, this is Yoo Kihyun from apartment 3B, can someone help us?”

Changkyun chuckles because of course, he’s the new guy that moved into 3B.

“Hey, 3B—phone doesn’t work, genius. Can’t you see it’s not even connected?” Changkyun tells him rolling his eyes.

“Well, do something, don’t just stand there!” 3B wails slamming back the phone into place.

“This happens every other week dude, they’ll get us out eventually” Changkyun shrugs, and the guy, Kihyun visibly deflates.

“How long do you think it’ll take?” he asks defeatedly.

“Could be a couple of hours, to be honest”

Kihyun staggers back into the opposite metal wall and groans, “couple of hours?” he whispers in disbelief. He runs a hand through his hair and gasps, as he looks up he notices an opening and walks over to slap Changkyun on the chest.

“Look, up there, there’s an escape door—you seem stronger I’m not even going to lie, and my shoulders are much narrower than yours—think you could maybe lift me up?” Kihyun asks.

“First of all, ow—your rings, asshole” Changkyun whines rubbing at his chest, “Second, I mean I guess I could, but that thing looks like it’s bolted shut man”

“Doesn’t hurt to try” Kihyun tells him already shrugging off his coat, and Changkyun can’t help but roll his eyes.

“This job so damn important you’re willing to squeeze out of an escape door in an old and faulty elevator?” Changkyun asks groaning as he awkwardly tries to lift Kihyun up. He isn’t that much taller than the guy, he doubts he’ll be able to reach the trap door even with Changkyun lifting him.

As Kihyun struggles to make his hands reach the ceiling, something slips out from around his neck and out of his shirt slapping Changkyun in the face.

“You’re a groupie ?” Changkyun asks, narrowing his eyes at the shiny VIP pass, voice full of judgement.  

Kihyun freezes in his arms.

“Put. Me. Down” he bites out.

Changkyun is quick to do as he’s told and let’s Kihyun slide down and out of his arms.

Once his feet are back on the floor, Kihyun immediately walks away as far away as possible from Changkyun, hiding his VIP pass and crossing his arms across his chest.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to say it like that, I just wondered” Changkyun tells him truthfully.

“Why the hell do you have a trash bag full of  party decorations?” Kihyun asks instead.

“Took them down from our hallway, we aren’t allowed to hang decorations like that. It’s against the regulations of the complex” Changkyun tells him as a matter of fact.

“Why is that any of your concern? Why is it up to you to police the way people enjoy their holiday? God, of course I get stuck in an elevator with the goddamn grinch of the apartment complex. Who hurt you dude?”

“Ex fiancé” Changkyun tells him, a sad smile on his lips, “two years ago, to the day, actually. Cheated on me the night of our engagement party with who I thought was one of my best friends”

“Well fuck” Kihyun groans blowing out an awkward breath and sits down on the little wooden bench lining one of the walls of the elevator. “Fuck, I’m sorry man—“

“It’s alright, it’s whatever now, you know? But yeah, you’re right. Did turn me into a bit of a grinch, which kinda sucks because I used to love celebrating New Year’s with my best friends” Changkyun confesses.

“I never understood the concept of cheating” Kihyun sighs, “if you feel like you no longer have strong feelings for the person you’re with, just tell them and set them free. Don’t hurt them and waste their time. It’s selfish and plain old mean” he tells him.

“Sounds like you have strong opinions on the subject as well then” Changkyun muses.

Kihyun smiles and stands up.

“You said it’d be a couple of hours right? Well then, I guess we’ll just have to have a party of our own. Rediscover your love for the New Year’s celebration. Come on, we’ve got decorations “ Kihyun says coming over to pull out the holiday decorations trash bag from his fingers.

“But the—” and the withering look Kihyun levels him with has Changkyun shutting up immediately and pliantly handing over the bag and it’s contents.

“Come on grumpy, start putting these banners up” Kihyun demands shoving an array of banners onto his arms. He then rummages through the bag and manages to find a pair of party hats. Making a small noise of triumph, he walks over to strap the red one on Changkyun, smiling when it earns him an eye roll.

“You are something else, 3B”

In comfortable companionship, both men decorate the elevator to their best ability with the few decorations they have, Kihyun occasionally humming random tunes.

“So what do you do for a living?” Kihyun asks as he strings tinsel around.

“I’m a comic book illustrator”

“Oh, is that so? Draw something for me then” Kihyun demands, pulling out a pen and paper pad from his bag, and Changkyun has begun to realize Yoo Kihyun from apartment 3B is quite the demanding fella.

“You’re so bossy” Changkyun says with a chuckle, he takes the man’s pen and pad nonetheless and begins to draw. “What about you? What do you do?”

“Well for starters, I’m not a groupie” Kihyun says pointedly. “I’m a singer, well back up singer right now. It’s why I have this pass, I’m supposed to be performing at the ball drop on New Year’s Eve in Times Square” he sighs sadly.

“Sing something for me then, so I can concentrate on your drawing” Changkyun laughs and Kihyun shakes his head furiously.

“No way man, maybe if we get out of this damn elevator you can come watch me perform instead”

Changkyun shoots Kihyun a look and both burst out in laughter.

They carry on talking for hours about the randomest things. From their earliest childhood memories to likes and dislikes to the reasons why they’re both in New York.

“Are we ever gonna get out of here?” Kihyun sighs defeatedly, “not that you aren’t wonderful company, but I’ve already missed the rehearsal. I’m sure it’s nearing ten p. m, god, I’m really going to miss my chance to perform at Times Square” he laments.

“I’m sorry dude—but hey, look we still have time before you have to go on, you said your performance is at 11:30, right? Perhaps by then” Kihyun gives Changkyun a, ‘thanks for trying’ look and smiles.

“You done with that drawing then?” Kihyun asks and Changkyun laughs nodding his head.

“Here, happy New Year’s” Changkyun laughs handing Kihyun his illustration of him frantically yelling for help earlier in the elevator clutching onto the emergency phone for dear life.

“You are insufferable, I hope you know” Kihyun laughs taking the drawing from his hands. “But you’re actually pretty good, this is so intricate, how do you do that?” he says voice full of awe.

Changkyun just shrugs rubbing the back of his neck bashfully.

“We’re supposed to be having a party” Kihyun comments, then stands up and begins to narrate his movements.

“The handsome young singer scanned the room, when suddenly, his eyes made contact with another handsome young man”

Changkyun tolled his eyes but stood up.

“They stared at each other for a moment, tentatively smiling at one another” at this point Kihyun shoots Changkyun a shu smile and he can’t help but birst out into a fit of laughter.

“Tentatively!” Kihyun exclaims laughing as well.

“Okay, okay—how about now?” Changkyun asks trying his best at a tentative smile.

“Eh, guess it’ll do” Kihyun teases. “We finally cross the room, just as everyone starts to count down…” Kihyun comes closer to Changkyun, smiling and begins to count. “Ten, nine, eight, seven” Kihyun’s words are barely above a whisper now, and Changkyun feels likes his face is on fire. He doesn’t know what to do with himself or where to look, so he settles for Kihyun’s eyes, which—kind of a mistake. A feeling of being able to lose himself in that pair of warm brown eyes settles over him and he really thinks, fuck it, it’s the New Year. If he were to kiss this man right here, it would be a perfect end to the year. “Six, five, four, three, two—”

Just as Kihyun is about to close the distance between them, the elevator shakes once again throwing both men backwards as it descends properly once again.

Both men clear their throats once the doors to the elevator open, and a group of tenants cheer.

“See, told you I’d get it fixed—and it only took what, leight hours” their landlord cheers, and several tenants erupt in a chorus of annoyed ‘shut ups’ and ‘took you long enoughs’.

“Oh my god, I can still make it, if I hurry”

“Then you should probably head out” Changkyun tells Kihyun clearing his throat.

“I uh—yeah, I’ll see you around. Happy New Year” Kihyun tells him as he rushes out the hallway.

“Yeah. See you around” Changkyun sighs making his way back to the elevator. “Hold that for me will you Mrs. Jensen”

And as Changkyun makes his way back into that damned elevator he notices a rubber pink balance bracelet on the ground.

Fuck.

He picks it up and rushes out of the elevator once more irritating a few dozen of his neighbors in the process and runs out hoping he can make it to Kihyun in time.

Turns out, he does make it to Times Square in time, he barely catches Kihyun on his way up the stage.

“HEY! 3B!” he exclaims.

Startled, Kihyun turns around, eyes wide and mouth hanging open in a silent gasp.

“You’re—what? What are you doing here?” Kihyun asks.

“I uh—well I found this, figured it might be yours. I don’t know” Changkyun laughs.

“How did you even get back here?”

“Security is actually so bad? They think I’m the band’s drummer” Changkyun laughs.

“You came all the way out here—in your pajamas, I might add—to hand me my bracelet?”

“It says it’s for balance, didn’t want you out there performing without it. And who knows, maybe it’s good luck. What do I know?” Changkyun mumbles, now blushing slightly.

“Thank you, that’s really sweet of you” Kihyun laughs taking the bracelet from Changkyun’s hands.

And he’s not sure what gives him the courage to do what he does next, but “ you also forgot this in the elevator,” he says. In one swift movement, he leans up to press a kiss to Kihyun’s lips, pulling him in by his dress pants belt loops. It takes Kihyun about 0.01 seconds to respond, clutching fiercely only the fabric of Changkyun’s hoodie.

“I’m—yeah okay, thanks for that” Kihyun says in a bit of a daze once he’s pulled away, “I’m glad you remembered that” he says clearing his throat.

Changkyun shoots him a million wat smile and presses a light peck to his lips once more.

“Go knock them dead, tonight, I’m your groupie” Changkyun jokes.

“Go!” Kihyun says laughing heartily and Changkyun supposes that maybe new beginnings really are welcomed.

[midoriyas-tears]

A shit show of a bunch of random word documents I have

[travis x sal fic.doc]

(authors note- this is unfinished. made january 23rd, by me) fandom- sally face

Sal's lips softened into a light loving smile, feeling his boyfriend's body heat with his palm as the taller boy tangled his hands in Sal's hair. He ran his fingers through the light blue curls and tufts and clusters, trying to rid of any knots. Every time the blonde forced through something more severe, it followed with an "Ow" and a "I'm sorry," and then an " It's okay." And then a grin.

Being sat in his lovers lap, Sal began to lay back into his arms, comfortable. Travis lightly nudged him with two of his fingers, so that he can continue to mess with the others hair. Sal moved forwards. "Sorry." He mumbled, smiling at the freckled boy.

"You don't have to apologize.." Travis got through two or three tangles " You told me that you didn't get alot of sleep.. "

"Its fine. I'm not that tired." Sal would speak quietly. Though it was a bit of a lie. He could fall asleep at that moment if he wanted to. Travis adjusted the shorter boy's head to look up at him, and then bent to plant a short kiss on Sal's lips (It was frankly uncomfortable). "You look tired. Please sleep, babe." Travis sighed, and Sal nodded a 'no'-----. "Fine."

Travis knew little about hair. He didn't take care of himself much, and he never got close to any girls or anybody with a good deal of hair. He took a bunch of the blue locks and split it into three sections, like he had seen some girls do at lunch. Sal purred, closing his eyes.

He tried to remember what to do, until his head gave up and his hands unnatrually began to move around the strands. He undid it, restarting. "Ouch."

"Sorry, babe."

" Its fine. "

"Do you know how to braid hair, Travis?" He

When Travis shook his head, Sal moved, letting his body face Travis', but still sitting in his lap like usual. The taller boys freckled cheeks turned a tint of cherry at the position.

[rp starter.doc]

(authors note- its a roleplay starter. made january 29th, by me) fandom- bnha

After an array of cool weather, the air was pleasingly warm, and the sun shone brightly above, covered by puffs of clouds drifting over and swaying about in the sky. The sidewalk was populated with a short series of people, walking slow to the tone of the morning. In the midst of it all, Midoriya was walking to his new school, with his mother. He gripped onto her hand with one, and with tge other he held onto his plain blue backpack, which had a decorative Allmight chain hanging off of it. He really was obsessed, wasn't he? Izuku looked at his mom curiously as they entered the school, nearing the kindergarden classroom. This was a new school. It was exciting to him, so he smiled, but a set of nervous thoughts still crept over his small shoulders.

His mother bent down, getting on a knee and planting a soft motherly kiss on the boys forehead. "Have a good day, Izuku." She gave him a warm smile which he was happy to recognize. "Mommy will see you soon." She stood up, patting him on his fluffs of green hair and leading him into the classroom. Every other kindergardener stared at him briefly.

The teacher grinned at him. "This is Midoriya. Say hello to him."

They pointed to a table for him to sit, "Sit with (insert characters name)." (authors note- lmao)

He followed instructions

[rp starter 2.doc]

(authors note- simular to the last one. created febuary 10th, by me) fandom- bnha

It frankly was not an ideal day to be at the playground. The sky was blue, but was ashen and cloudy-- it would certainly rain soon. The playground was unpopulated and minerature, not featuring much equipment. And the only people there were himself and one or two other kids who didn't bother talking to him. Izuku didn't mind though. He clasped onto the swing he sat on, pushing himself back and forward with his legs. He moved slowly. After a while of swinging, he attempted to call out for his mother to push him, but she was distracted by a book.

Midoriya sighed, a bit defeated. He looked over at the seesaw, wondering if anyone would want to go on it with him. His eyes went to the back of a boy, who seemed about his age. He squinted at the features. Hey, was that Kachaan? He waved to him excitedly, grinning widely at the familiar face. "Hey! Hey!"

[rp starter 3.doc]

(authors note- this ones different. it was originally for a fic, but i copped out. i liked the idea so i made it a starter. kamisero. created march 10th, by me) fandom- bnha

Before he could fully evaluate the situation, Kaminari didn't take much mind to what he and his friends were doing. The freckled blonde sat beside two of his best friends, Mina and Sero, observing as Kirishima placed a half-full water bottle in the middle of the circle. The pink-haired female beside him clasped her hands together, grinning wildly. "Now, this is something I'm excited for"

It was only then, when Denki could realize what he was getting himself into. Sure, he was single. Sure, he was pansexual. He glimpsed over to Sero for a moment, feeling a light brush of pink tint over his cheeks. But if he refused to do it, he knew he wouldn't hear the end of it. Especially because Mina knew that Kami liked Sero.

"Before we start," Denki heard Kirishima begin to speak, sitting up, "You have seven minutes. You cannot forfeit unless you're going to shit yourself. I don't care if you're gay."

Denki gulped, and Mina playfully punched him in the arm. She knew why Denki was nervous. Mina suddenly seized The blonde's hand, placing it on th water bottle. "Kami, why don't you start? I mean, you didn't get to do much in truth or dare, so.."

Denki glared at her. Mina was his best friend, and he really appreciated her-- but she was really pushy with revealing all of his secrets. Not like she had ever done that, its just sometimes he wished Mina wasn't the /only/ person he could go to. "Yeah, sure."

He spun the bottle. And, he was taken back, when it landed on Sero. Fuck.

[sfg.doc]

(authors note- lmao this is drunk deku so yeah uhh hes obviously underaged so leave if you dont like that. also a roleplay starter. smh im on sham.chat alot. march 15th, by me) fandom- bnha

It wasn't particularly something he wanted to do. He /was/ underaged, with little experience with the substance. Izuku wasn't actually drunk,was he? He didn't drink too much, did he? Kirishima and Mina had hosted a party during the weekend, not to celebrate anything, just to- do it, I guess. Midoriya, though he had admittedly never been to a real one, came. He did get a loose invitation, after all. He didn't want to be rude and say he had plans, because he didn't.

Midoriya had been sitting on the couch, watching from distance as his classmates sat on the floor to play a game of spin the bottle, which he sat out in. Even if he wasn't sober, he didn't want to kiss his friends. He picked at a soda can with his thumb-nail, squinting while trying to open it. "Eeeh.."

[e.doc]

(authors note- last one. march 17th, also by me. roleplay starter, again. this is kindergarten todo, which i thought would be adorable. even though he probably wouldn't evem go to public school in my opinion) fandom- bnha

Frankly, Todoroki was surprised that his father even agreed with his mother, for once. Even at six, Shoto took notice of the unhealthy relationship his parents shared. He actually wasn't the happiest about going to a public kindergarten, instead of being homeschooled. Sure, he wouldn't have to see his mean father every day, atleast-- not as much. But he didn't usually talk to kids his age, if any at all. He didn't know what they would think of him.

It was the first day of kindergarten. Shoto walked by his dad, quietly. He was a bit unhappy by this, as he didn't want to make a scene in his classroom. His dad was a hero, after all. He didn't really want to be a hero. By how his dad pushed it upon him, it seemed like the hardest job ever. Todoroki didn't know what he wanted to be, but not something like that.

Surprisingly, Endeavor *didn't* go in the class. He stopped by the door, telling him to behave, then leaving, hastily. He didn't really care, though. Its not like he was going to talk to anyone. He sat in a random seat near the back, plopping his backpack next to his seat and watching as a plethora of six-year-olds came in through the door. One of them sat by him. He awkwardly avoided eye contact.

[firebuug]

ok here’s this. pokemon au ramble. because this week has just been me loving my ocs but bass boosted. under the cut!! this post will be REALLY long mainly because of the teams sorry!

pokemon au is pure bc no deaths or rlly bad things happen

buggy is a trainer who went on the pokemon journey for fun and as a coming-of-age kinda thing(also because he may or may not have burnt his house down with a litwick), but kinda stopped getting gym badges half way and decided to settle down and just take the road casually. he settled down with apoccy and they both run a little pokemon sanctuary and care for pokemon that aren’t able to go back to the wild or have some little quirk (for example a litwick that cant keep itself lit easily). he likes battling for fun rather than for glory, and when his rival (farrow, obvs) was like “ha im gonna beat u and become the champion and ur not” he was like “i mean ok have fun!” which makes farrow pissed. he’s a guy who really cares about pokemon’s feelings and basically got back into action from pokemon santuary-ing and fought against the coven (the bad guy team) to stop them from hurting anyone.

team: 

- Ari (talonflame) (he flies around on her!)

- Lulu (chandelure) (his absolute baby and child)

- Fluffy (ampharos) (he named it fluffy when it was a mareep but then it evolved a bit and it wasnt fluffy anymore. its name is still fluffy tho)

- Big Boy (pelipper) (he’s a big ocean enthusiast but can’t swim and is a bit afraid of the water, so he uses pelipper to navigate over it and help him fish)

- Ellis (sylveon) (he wanted him to be a flareon but he loved them a lot and he ended up becoming a sylveon but buggy still loves him 100%)

- Musha (musharna) (musha helps him go to sleep easier and stay awake better as well, it’s basically his service pokemon ahghjhdjkf. she’s usually floating by his side!)

i think mendel would be a pokemon professor bc he studies pokemon. how he was even trusted enough to hand out pokemon to small children is a mystery, but gene takes care of most of the friendly stuff with handing u ur pokemon and stuff, mendel just does the research. later on it’s revealed that mendel is part of the region’s bad guy group, the coven! (>:3cc) their goal is to fuse multiple powerful pokemon together into the perfect pokemon that is able to beat everything and everyone else, in a combination of every type in existence. (Idk if this is the plot of any game bc i dont remember the plot of any game past pokemon b/w honestly) eventually the protag gets them to not fucking destroy everything and befriend the big boy pokemon (juggy, but like pokemon) and the coven disbands their group and just live life as normal people not criminals bc pokemon verse is best verse

team: - Juggy (sivally) (idk shit about sivally or the sumo plot but it looks like a fusion pokemon and its cute so like um there we go ig. in the actual au itd probably be a completely new pokemon but im lazy)

- Cofagrigus (obvious reasons. if i didnt want to keep this au pure i wouldve mentioned he still grave digs)

-Mimikyu (shut up its cute)

- Flabebe (flowere) (”oh what a pretty flower, it will be great to work on. oh no its a pokemon. guess its my child now”)

- Arbok (its a snake he loves snakes he gives it little pats on the head and rattatas)

- Claydol (it has a ton of red eyes and its black and red what more do you want from him. also he thinks it is cool and its psychic so like hhuiionnghgh yeah)

gene is a pokemon docdor (he heals those boys up for you and takes care of them) and helps mendel out in research since they both share an interest in researching pokemon!!! he doesn’t know that hes part of the bad guy team that snatches up pokemon and doesn’t question any weird things he decides to research about until like the end. he’s really nice and’ll probably catch up to you along your journey just to see how you’re doing, check up on you, and give you cool stuff like the master ball n stuff. he has a big greenhouse where he grows berries and’ll give you some as gifts along the way. he battles you occasionally to see how strong you’ve gotten and’ll heal your pokemon when your done, giving you tips. he likes hanging out around forests and little garden areas.

team:

- Serperior (long boi. good noodle boi.)

- Comfey (C O M F E Y flowere boi) 

- I lost my old gene team im so sad so i dont remember any of it

- Bitty (budew) (BABY BOY BABY! he loves them sm) (it evolves into roserade later on but shhhshhh baby budew)

- Swanna (pretty birb!!) (helps him water the plants in the greenhouse!!)

- Ana (unfezant) (HE NEEDS ANA OK)

- Audino (mega) (he needs that healy pokemon it’s essential) (theyre his little helper)

farrow is the stereotypical rival guy tbh. with buggy he was like “im gonna be better than u” and buggy was like “stop bullying me” but then just “ok” so he got bored. with skuggy it was more competitive, and they even battled each other right at the victory road’s entrance to see who was better, but they never got to complete the elite 4 trial since the coven juggy shit happened and they basically had to team up temporarily to stop these guys. when all of that was done farrow got back to challenging the elite four and trying to become champion, but he’s still struggling and is trying to train his team to become better while skuggy went “eh i’m done that was fun tho” and gave up. farrow hates being seen as weak and wants to have the strongest team, but he still loves his pokemon even if he pushes them near the limit sometimes while all focused up on winning.

team:

- Ally (linoone) (theres no possum pokemon and im mad but he likes ferrets too so) (or uh. long raccoon?) (either way he loves ally and she’s kind of a tank)

- Mittens (incineroar) (this was his starter, somehow, since he took the traditional trainer coming-of-age path and went to become the best.) (he loves his cat even if it did become....bipedal and buff??????) (They share the same big ego and victory flexing) (he rides on mittens’s shoulders sometimes or mittens carries him with arms in the air like a king)

- Rogue (liepard) (cate!!) (also it really fits him!!!) (he loves his thief cat and steals everyone’s items with it and makes them mad) (skuggy has cursed this cat out for stealing all his pokemon’s items at least twice before while both her and farrow looked on grinning smugly)

- Jasper (noivern) (i associate farrow with bats a lot, i think he likes bats now) (big fuckig boy who farrow flies on and farrow really likes battling with) (when farrow is out travelling and is tired and it’s late but he can’t find anywhere to stay, jasper shields him and makes whats basically a mini tent with his wings around him)

- Doggo (houndoom) (Farrow named him doggo as a joke but it stuck) (Fire dog with evil aesthetic! Farrow loves this) (He’s a good dog and farrow pats him for doing good work. he sniffs out berries and items for him on the road and is like his guard dog.)

- Snippy (gliscor) (another bat babey) (i might change it but idk) (it’s a sneakey boy) (he is also a tank and poisons everyone’s pokemon) (farrow accidentally gets stung by him like twice a week)

skuggy is a trainer who set out on the pokemon journey as a means to get out of his shitty house and family, collecting pokemon to help defend himself, but ended up really loving pokemon (especially bug types) and trying to take on a few gyms while he was at it. eventually he met farrow and it became kind of like a little race to see who can get the most gym badges first, giving him a motivation to travel the region and take on the elite 4. after the juggy fiasco he got a bit tired of fighting and decided he valued his pokemon a lot since they defended him and helped him fight back so he said “yknow what im gonna take a break from our race thing, im just gonna find somewhere to finally stay and chil out” while farrow was shaking the elite four’s door like “LET ME IIIIIN”. he’s kinda chill now and is thinking about going back and trying to fight the 4 someday, but for now he’s just a guy who catches bugs. he and gene hang out sometimes and go into forests n stuff. he’s still a butcher in this world ig. mans gotta make some money

team:

- Clove (scolipede) (his first pokemon, he caught it and went with it, but got really attached really fast) (she is his baby and he made it so far with her by his side and is really proud of both clove and himself for getting this far) 

- Big Tony (armaldo) (he found a fossil pokemon and kept it since it’s rock type and can help ward off fire types, which is a big weakness of his team, but he ended up loving big tony too. i know theyre supposed to be like 4 foot 9 but please imagine big tony as a BIG boy that skuggy can ride on its shoulders and back to get around.)

- Babie (ribombee) (he caught this thing and said “this is the cutest shit i’ve ever seen.” went on to destroy dragon types and be the best bee ever.) (actually it’s pretty weak but skuggy believes in them)

- Toaster (heracross) (heracross was too cute for skuggy NOT to catch. it’s the powerhouse. this boy rips thru pokemon likes it’s nothing. unless it’s a fire or flying type. then it dies.) (it likes to f i t e and shares skuggy’s quick temper, because u know what they say, like pokemon like trainer)

- Big old boy (stoutland) (this was also one of the first pokemon he’s ever caught and it was really strong, defended him well and was kind of like the tank of the team, so he kept it. he likes sleeping on its back, and sometimes it has to remember it isn’t a tiny dog anymore because it tries to jump at skuggy to greet him and he gets fucking smashed.) (hes a very good boy, he’s very fluffy, and skuggy loves him so much and owes him his life)

- Jeff (swadloon) (skuggy loves his emo-looking son.) (ever since he beat depression in the dick he just cant help but see himself in swadloon) (but swadloon is happy, just very comfy and grumpy) (swadloon loves skuggy and skuggy loves swadloon) (i mean just look at him) (it’s perfect for skuggy)

okay i’m done here there’s obviously more people but this post is getting alarmingly long and i still need to make their teams. if u read this entire thing u deserve 20 cat images and more jesus christ u madman !!!!!!

[mynopoly]

S’vana: A New Friend

"...'ey G'veena." S'vana called out to the other Demon Hunter that she had accompanied. Other than the sound of crackling flames that came from the campfire, her words were met with silence until it was broken by a deep sigh.

"What?" The other Demon Hunter rasped out, her gaze focused on the campfire in front of her.

Frowning slightly at the sigh, she hugged her knees close. "When...When d'ya think it'll be safe fer' us t' uh...walk 'round without bein' chased?" She asked quietly, already knowing the answer to it. Part of her hoped that G'veena's answer would prove her thoughts wrong. She really hoped it did.

There was a pause before another could be heard amongst the crackling flames. "Never." She bluntly stated.

"...N...Neva'? Are...Are ya' sure 'bout tha'?" She asked, doubting her fellow demon hunter's words. Let her be wrong. For once in her life, let her be wrong. "Wha' if ya' know...They decided t' sto--"

The Kaldorei shoved a piece of firewood into place, interrupting the Blood Elf's words followed by an annoyed grunt. "They won't. I've been doing this for over six thousand years and they still continue to chase after me the second they pick up my trail."

"...F-five thousands year?" Surprised by that number, S'vana frowned even more. "...Wha' if ya' know...they--"

"They won't." G'veena rasped out, sounding a bit irritated at the younger hunter's questions. "The only way to stop a Warden from chasing you is to kill them. Even if you manage to do that, I'm fairly certain that their spirit will chase after you instead, making them more annoying than they already are."

"...Oh. Okay..." Saddened by that answer, S'vana buried her face in her knees and sighed heavily into them. Feeling her anxiety start to well up, her desire to consume sweets grew. It was the only way for her to bring her anxiety down. Slipping her hand into one of the pouches on her belt, her hand grabbed at nothing. Oh yeah...She ran out of candy a couple of days ago. Getting more would be difficult, especially in Outland. Sighing again, she just hugged her knees tight.

G'veena's ears flickered at the other's sighs, her head turning slightly to cast a quick glance towards them. How did this one manage to succeed among all others? She wondered. More importantly, why did a cretin like her decide to become one in the first place? She stared at them for a long moment, contemplating whether or not to ask before taking in a deep breath. "I have a question for you if you care to answer, seeing as how I've answered yours."

"...Mh?" S'vana lifted her head up slightly and turned her head towards G'veena. "Uh...Sure. Ask away."

She stared up at S'vana for a long moment before flat out asking. "Why did someone like you decide to become a Demon Hunter?"

If she still had eyelids, she'd be blinking at the Kaldorei's question. "Oh...I uh...um..."

"Are you a child being called upon during the middle of class? Or are you an adult that knows how to properly speak?" Well, S'vana had a long ways to go to be able to speak 'properly.' Taking into consideration the amount of time that she's known them, it would take a spell or a miracle for that to happen. Neither of them were something that the Kaldorei wanted to put effort into doing.

Frowning at what she assumed to be an insult, S'vana just responded with a slight nod, "I'm an adult..." Taking in a deep breath, she hid her face in her knees again. "...Ya' 'eard 'bout my people's lands gettin' messed up real bad yea'?"

G'veena nodded.

"Well...m' folks...died durin' tha' attack an' I uh...realized a lot of things afta' things started t' settle." She paused for a moment to collect her thoughts before continuing, "...There was nothin' tha' I could've done at all durin' tha'...I was jus' a lass tha' knew 'ow t' fish well an' stuff...Not a lass tha' knew 'ow t' 'old a blade t' protect 'er family." She sighed again, "...So I uh...decided t' go with th' Prince when 'e told everyone tha' 'e'd be goin' with Illidan t' 'elp...ya' know...find a way t' 'elp keep our addiction at bay before it took ova' us."

"And what caused you to believe that you'd be fit to become a Demon Hunter?" G'veena asked, showing mild interest for once in her life. Very mild interest. It was more than what she gave to others.

"...When I arrived at th' temple with anotha' group, I saw all these demon 'unta's talkin' 'bout stuff an' ova'eard some of them talkin' 'bout wha' they did before. Seems like th' general consensus is tha' they wanted t' get back at th' ones tha' messed up their lives. Now th' uh...Legion didn't mess up my life as much. Th' Scourge was responsible fer' all of it. I jus'...wanted t' ya' know...be able t' do somethin'. A way fer' me t' prove t' people tha' I ain't a dumb lass tha' jus' knows 'ow t' catch fish. Tha' an'...I know m' folks were 'appy with whateva' path I decided fer' myself back before our Kingdom got messed up. I thought I'd make them 'appier by doin' somethin' tha'd show t' them tha' I did somethin' fer' th' benefit of all of us even if it messed me up fer' life because of it. I 'ad nothin' t' lose t' be 'onest. I eitha' poke out m' eyes an' eat a demon or...I go back 'ome, return' t' m' ol' life, an' try t' 'elp rebuild. All of tha' while knowin' I 'ad th' chance t' do somethin' uh...different. Sorry if I'm ramblin' too much." She mumbled out.

Admittedly, G'veena's interest in them grew after hearing their story. Slowly sitting up, she leaned forward in her seat and rested one arm atop her knee, her gaze never breaking away from the other. Their words struck a chord in her heart, much more than she ever expected from someone like them. "I see. How did you defeat your demon when you summoned it? Yours is an observer correct? It had to have a vast collection of spells to use against you, yes?"

Hearing the Kaldorei's response, she turned her head back towards them. Realizing that they were sitting up with their full attention focused on her, she stared at them in surprise. Maybe this one doesn't hate her after all...The thought appeared in her mind. "Uh...Yea', 'e's one of th' big floatin' eyeball demons. I call 'im 'Z' cuz uh...it's easier fer' me t' say." An awkward laugh leaves her lips. "As t' 'ow I defeated 'im...Uh, as soon as 'e popped up I made a deal with 'im. If I beat 'im in this game then 'e can 'ave m' body fer' free. If I won though, I get t' eat 'is 'eart."

G'veena stared back at S'vana in faint surprise, "A game? You not only convinced an observer to play a game but you bested them in it? Which game?"

Letting out an embarrassed laugh, S'vana nods. "...Checkas. Tha' game where ya' get like a uh...chess board but instead of chess pieces, ya' use those small discs instead. Th' goal of it is t' get all of yer' opponents pieces or make it impossible fer' them t' continue."

"...Checkers?" G'veena responded flatly in disbelief. Checkers. She had played this a few times before in the past. "You...bested an observer demon in a game of checkers?"

"...Yep." She gave the Kaldorei a sheepish smile. "Did th' easiest trick in th' book. Lured 'im in an' made 'im think tha' 'e was winnin' before takin' almost all of 'is pieces in one move."

Silence fell upon G'veena after S'vana told her how they won against an observer demon. Checkers...Checkers. This girl. This short, lowborn girl that would be kicked out of any Noble party the moment she speaks bested a demon in a game of checkers. A game.

"...G'veena?" She called out to them, slightly anxious about their silence.

"Checkers...A game that does not require much in mental prowess and you were able to best an observer demon, a demon who should arguably have the highest intelligence out of all the demons in the universe."

"Uh...huh." S'vana nodded, shrinking away slightly. Maybe she's about to get yelled at. Oh no...

After a moment, G'veena's shoulder slowly started to shake before she started to let out what sounded like...genuine laughter?

S'vana's eyes went wide at this, her ears flickering rapidly. "G-G'veena? You...You alright?" She asked, worried that she might've broken them. Or maybe they snapped and this is their way of dealing with it.

Laughing still, G'veena gave a slight nod to S'vana's concerns, one hand lifting up to wave it off. Oh Elune, she never thought she'd be able to laugh like this again, let alone do it because of this low--No, this one wasn't a lowborn. At least not to her anymore. There was much more to this one than she expected. Far much more. After her laughter died down, she lets out a relaxed sigh. "...S'vana Skyspear was it?"

Again, S'vana's eyes remained wide, her ears flickering still as she nods. "A-aye...tha's me."

"You have surprised me this night, very much so. For starters, you managed to make me laugh again after several millennia. Genuine laughter too if I might add. Although I did not express my thoughts vocally, I would like to apologize for them regardless. You are not the fool that I believed you to be. You are far from it. In fact, you have far more wit than half of the hunters that I have met." She praised them with a small smile on her lips.

For the most part, S'vana was speechless. G'veena didn't seem to be the sort of person that would laugh or even apologize for that matter. "Uh...Um...T-thank ya'?" She sheepishly replied.

Snorting softly at that, G'veena nods. "Consider this the highest of compliments that you'll ever receive from me."

"Um...Uh...O-okay?" S'vana asked, not wanting to mess this up. She's going to assume that she's on their good side now. "I still don't think I'm uh...as smart as ya' say I am t' be 'onest..."

"That may be true in some respect, but you underestimate yourself." G'veena replied before laying back down on her bedroll.

"O-Okay?" S'vana replied again. She didn't know what to say other than that. She'll just...go to sleep now. She doesn't want to botch this up.

"Skyspear."

"Y-yea?" S'vana sheepishly responded.

"Where do you plan on going after we return to Azeroth?"

"Oh...Uh...I was thinkin' 'ome but...tha' might be a bad idea afta' wha' ya' said t'night." She frowned at that.

"Do you still wish to continue your training?"

S'vana looked over at G'veena. "...Trainin'? Uh...It's not done?"

The Kaldorei snorted. "Of course not. Do you honestly think that a few months is all it takes to become a Demon Hunter?"

"...Uh...Now tha' ya' mention it...Probably not."

"So, do you still wish to continue your training?" G'veena asked again.

Pausing to think, S'vana took in a deep breath and nodded, "Y-yea, I still want t'. I made it this far. Why wouldn’t I?"

"Starting from tomorrow, you must keep up with me until we reach our destination."

"Okay...Wha's our destination?"

"Feralas. One of my many hiding places in Azeroth."

S'vana slowly nods. Isn't that place in Kalimdor? She's never been there before. "Aight...Wha' 'appens afta' we get there?"

"The rest of your training." G'veena responded. "I'll be turning in for the night now. You should do the same."

Again, S'vana nodded. Taking in a deep breath, she laid down on her bedroll with her eyes closed. Before she fell asleep, she spent the night trying to process what had happened. This demon hunter who she met several days ago has decided to train her. Her of all people. She was certain that they hated her considering their previous attitude towards her. After tonight, that didn't seem to be the case. Admittedly, she felt happy that their attitude changed, even more when they offered her a chance to continue what she has learned. Sighing happily at this, she got as comfortable as she could and waited for sleep to take over.

[ivegot7scenarios-blog]

You’re Beauty I’m Your Beast || Pt.2

Author: Ivegot7scenarios

Genre: Romance/ Drama

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 1,582

Summary: Your relatively normal life is turned upside down when you find out that your father has been kidnapped by one of the city’s biggest crime bosses. You have no idea what to expect but you know that your life will never be the same.

[Part 1]

The speedometer didn’t drop below fifty the whole way there. You were still trying your hardest to not completely breakdown, rationalizing that having a clear head would be best given the situation, even so the feeling of being smothered lingered. 

The part of town that you were driving through was foreign and unfamiliar, just block and blocks of industrial warehouses that looked empty and abandoned. It didn’t surprise you. Whoever had taken your father had obviously not wanted to be found easily. After a few more minutes of driving you found the warehouse you’d been looking for. It was just as dilapidated as the rest but spray painted by the door, dripping and in bright yellow was the number seven, marking it as your destination. 

You turned off the car, your fingers gripping the steering wheel harder that necessary. The thought of starting your car and going home crossed your mind but you quickly dismissed it. You couldn’t leave your father, like this. You had to do whatever it took to get him out of there. 

With trembling fingers you unbuckled your seat belt and excited the car. The sound of the door shutting cut through the cool night air and you shivered. There was no one in sight but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being watched. You made your way to door, silently fighting every instinct that was urging you to run. Before you couldn’t knock on the door it opened revealing a man on the other side. 

Without a word he stepped back to let you in, gesturing with his had when you took too long to move. You stepped inside, flinching when he shut the door behind you. The inside of the building was vastly different from its exterior. It was by no means a palace but at least the lighting was better, fully showing that the place wasn’t as dilapidated as you thought. 

Aside from you and the man at the door there was no one else in the room and he wasn’t much of a companion. It was empty save for the staircase that sat in the far corner. You didn’t have to ask to know that’s where you were supposed to go. Each step up spelled doom, the creaking of the boards marking the time you were taking to reach it. 

Yet again you were surprised to see that the next room you entered actually looked habitable. There was an expensive looking carpet on the floor, what looked like a desk, but you couldn’t really tell given that it was cast in shadow and a sitting area complete with a television. What really caught your eye though were the five men surrounding a pool table in the corner of the room. They stopped midway through the game they were playing to look at you, but they didn’t make any moves towards you. One of them, who looked strangely familiar looked to the left of where you were standing. You followed his gaze, unsure of what he was trying to tell you and when your eyes fell onto what he was looking at you let out a gasp.

It was your father, tied and gagged to a chair. Without thinking you rushed towards him, completely overlooking the figure that was sitting at the desk, watching you closely. You dropped to your knees by your father’s side, tugging at the ropes that bound him as you tried to get him free. 

“Dad?” You whispered frantically, your fingers working at the ropes. “Dad, please wake up.”

His eyes fluttered open at the sound of your voice. He looked around bleary eyed and confused and when his eyes fell on you they widened with surprise. He grunted from around the gag that was tied around his mouth and you quickly pulled it down, allowing him to speak. “Y/N! You have to get out of here. Please. Forget about me. Leave!”

“No!” you said, tears pricking your eyes. “I’m not leaving here without you.”

“Well,” a voice from behind you spoke up. It was a cool and crisp. It sent shivers down your spine. “isn’t that a charming sight?”

Slowly you turned your head taking in the sight of the man that was speaking to you. You recognised him in an instant. He was the man that Officer Park had shown you a picture of. Im Jaebum and he was walking towards you. his movements were slow and measured. He was taking his time and why shouldn’t he? You all knew you were trapped, with no one to call for help. So you did the only thing you knew to do.

“What do you want?” 

He chuckled, and stopped about a foot in front of you. His hands were in his pockets and from this close you saw that his suit looked like it cost more than you made in a year. “What do I want? For starters I want my money.”

“Your money?”

His eyebrows rose in what was genuine surprise and he looked to behind you to your father before his gaze fell back to you. “She doesn’t know? Well sweetheart, daddy’s got a bit of a gambling problem and he owes be quite a bit of money. Money that I’d like to get back. Now.”

You were dumbfounded. You knew that your father enjoyed the odd poker game but that was nothing compared to this. “H-how much?”

“Two hundred and fifty thousand.” He said it casually as if he were merely talking about the weather, but it was an amount you couldn’t even dream of seeing. “And I’d like to see it now please.”

“I’m sorry, but we don’t have that kind of money.”

“Hmm, then we’re in a bit a bind then aren’t we?” He looked back at the group of men that were still standing around the pool table. He gestured with his head and two of them moved forward, pulling you up from the floor. They weren’t rough but they weren’t gentle either. That’s when you recognised him. 

“Officer Park?”

Jaebum chuckled again. “One of my ideas actually. You see I needed someone to do a little reconnaissance. So I sent Jinyoung to see where you worked. You don’t know it but he’s been following you around for quite sometime, just gathering information here and there. I know quite a bit about you, Y/N.”

“Why? Why are you doing this?”

“I’m a simple man,” he spread his arms wide. “and I’ve put quite a bit of work into making sure my business runs smoothly. Now, it hurts me that things have to come to this, it really does, but if someone owes me a debt, I expect it to be repaid. That’s not asking too much is it?”

He paused, waiting for you to answer him and when you didn’t he sighed and went over to your father. He leaned over him, one arm braced against the back of the chair, his other hand still in his pocket. Out of everyone in the room he was the most relaxed. “What about you, Jin-ho? Do you think I’m asking too much?”

“N-no sir.” Your father was trembling in his seat and you would have run over to him if the guards weren’t holding your arms so tightly.

“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. Good man.” He clapped him on the shoulder and spun away, a smile that had no mirth on his face. “I’ve got an idea. Something that will completely wipe away this mess. You,” here he pointed at your father. “are going to make a choice and it’ll erase all of your debt.”

“Yes! I’ll make the choice.” Your father said in earnest. 

Jaebum turned back to him, his stance rigid. “Careful what you wish for. Once you make this decision it’s set in stone. There’s no going back. One of you can go. The other has to stay.”

“No!” You couldn’t believe the words that had just passed his lips. There was no way you were going to leave your father behind. “No! I’m not leaving without him.” 

“You must. Go, live your life. Forget about me.”

“I can’t...I can’t.” Sobs wracked your frame as you struggled to get free from the men who held you.

“I’ll make this simple then.” Jaebum grabbed the chair your father sat in over to the stairs. He grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pushed him back until he was only balancing by the back legs of the chair. Had Jaebum not been holding him by the shirt he would have toppled down the stairs. “Choose. You or her.”

“N-no, I can’t choose.”

“Choose! You or her!”

“Me! Me! I choose me!” You felt the world move out from under you. Shocked couldn’t even begin to describe how you felt. You were numb.

Jaebum set your father down gently and cut him free. There was no expression on his face. He turned away from your father and waved his hand. “You’ve made your choice now leave.”

“Wait...I-”

“Did you not hear what I said old man?” Jaebum whirled around to face him, his voice laced with malice and contempt. “Leave now. Before I make you.”

Without another word he turned and descended the stairs, leaving you behind. Faintly you heard the sound of your car starting and driving away. You were alone. Alone and in the hands of men who were about to do god only knew what to you.

[dgmagines]

Aaaaah can I ask for Alma, Madarao, and Tokusa standing up for their SO who gets lots of passive-agressive mean comments about their freckles? Their SO gets super upset because from starters they don't really like how freckles look on them;; Have a wonderful day (night??) Min! You're the best ; q ;

Disclaimer: min has no idea how to be anything else other than mean and slightly degrading im so sorry ahaha– and I’m sorry for taking so long!! ( ;; 0 ;; ) /

Also everyone, friendly reminder to take care of yourself and to eat well!! ;; v ;;

The Order was having another unusually quiet evening; the only noise heard were the murmurs of conversation from the cafeteria and the echoing of rapid footsteps in the halls. The door to the infirmary slammed open, (e/c) eyes quickly scanning the vicinity before finding their target, their feet marching angrily towards the source of boiling emotions.

“Alma,” _____ seethed and Alma flinched, seeing the fire reflected in their eyes. He grinned nervously, giving a small “hey” as he didn’t trust himself to wave his hand- for all he knew, _____ could’ve easily broken his hand if they were pissed off enough.

Alma inhaled sharply, closing his eyes and inching backwards on the bed as ______ marched closer towards him. A few seconds later, he could feel his head turning to the side, a stinging pain on his cheek that followed the shape of a hand.

“Ow! ______ wha–”

“You idiot,” _______ buried their face in his shoulder, clutching at the fabric of his shirt as they tried to stifle their cries. Alma was in shock, his brain slowly processing the sudden emotional change. He slowly lifted his arms, returning the embrace hesitantly as he asked the (h/c) why they were crying.

“You shouldn’t have done that— why did you do that? God, you’re an A class idiot, I hate you–” Alma chuckled at their mumbling, feeling their nails digging into his skin from behind.

“I couldn’t just sit still while they ridiculed you _____….” he pouted, remembering the demeaning words he had heard from a group of founders. He didn’t understand why they would say those things when ______’s freckles were the cutest thing in the universe– even if ______ didn’t like it, Alma did! and no one gets to ridicule them except for Kanda or himself–

“I told you a thousand times you should’ve just ignored them!” ______ pulled away, an angry pout on their face contrasting with the tears running down their cheeks. “I told you…. I’m used to it….” Alma frowned at their mumbling, his brows furrowing as his injuries screamed at him.

“I’m not going to let people insult you or your freckles ______,” Alma spoke quietly but determinedly, grabbing the (h/c)’s attention by pressing both his hands on their cheeks, squeezing and squishing their face in his hands. “I’ll beat up anyone that tries to insult you- no matter how many times I have to do it to make them stop. Okay?” 

“Does that mean you’ll beat me up as well?”

“Yes. Now, okay?

Alma let go of their cheek and _____ stared at him in worry, the frown on their face disappearing as they sighed, defeated. Alma was stubborn and once he got that light in his eyes, even ______ knew they wouldn’t be able to convince him to drop the matter.

“Okay,”

“Good,”

Lunch was always such a peaceful ordeal- it was one of the third’s favourite past time other than sleeping. Madarao sat at the end of the table, _____ sitting at the table next to him with their group of friends. If he glanced slightly to his left, he’d be able to see them laughing and talking with their friends and honestly it was his favourite thing to see.

The hour went by peacefully- it wasn’t until he heard a couple of girls murmuring as they took a seat behind by their table. ______ probably heard it too because they suddenly turned quiet, silently and subtly glancing at the girls talking about them as if they didn’t even exist.

Madarao furrowed his brows, turning back to his plate as he silently watched ______ play with their food and listened to the girls’ talking about their freckles. His corners of his lips slowly turned south, forming a frown on his face as he lifted his eyes from his plate- meeting gaze with Tewaku. She nodded in ______’s direction, giving her brother a questionable gaze - silently asking him what he was going to do.

Madarao lowered his eyes, glancing towards the (h/c) only to find them biting their lower- hard enough to draw blood, he noted, as _____ flinched, refusing to lift their hand wipe the metal liquid. It didn’t take him long to decide what to do when he saw them trembling in their seat, their friends seemingly ignorant of their situation.

“______,” Madarao stood, surprising the two girls who were just talking. ______ lifted their head, reluctantly meeting eyes with Madarao who sighed heavily. “You should’ve said something,” (e/c) eyes stared at him in confusion and he sighed once more, purposely slamming his hand on the girls’ tables.

“I’m not one to terrorize people deliberately,” he spoke slowly but punctually, hawk-like eyes staring at the two with a death stare. Tewaku pushed her plate away, standing from their table with the others following - only Goushi paid no mind as he continued to eat his almost finished lunch.

“But quit it,” He stared at them for a long time, the cafeteria turning dead-silent at his sudden actions. Madarao rolled his eyes, hitting his fist harshly on the wooden table before walking away. He could hear Tokusa telling them to apologize to ______ and Tewaku walking silently beside him. She nudged him with her arm, a small smile on her face as she looked up to the elder.

The clatter of plates and the screeching of chairs was heard as loud screaming echoed in the halls of the cafeteria. Finders, exorcists and scientists alike turned their head to the source of attention, giving mixed looks of pity and curiousity to the finder facing a pissed off Tokusa.

“Tokusa don’t–” ______ whispered in a pleading manner, (e/c) eyes shifting every which way to find the same concerned stare directed in their direction. ______ turned towards their friends, staring in slight disbelief as the other third exorcists kept eating.

“Madarao–”

“______, you know as well as we do that when Tokusa gets like that, not even we can stop him,” Madarao gave her a pointed stare, raising one of his brows- a silent question to the (h/c) on what they suggest he do. ______ gave an exasperated sigh as they heard Tokusa talking loudly, pulling his arm aggressively away from their hold.

“What gives you the right to say that?!”

“Tokusa just– Let’s just finish eating okay?” The boy turned to them, his eyes lighting up in fire- slowly diminishing when he saw the pleading look on the (h/c). He grind his teeth, turning back to glare at the smug founder.

“You’re lucky these guys are with me-”

“Oh please. You just want more time to stare at–” Poor boy didn’t even get to finish his sentence as he staggered backwards, pain coursing through his veins from his broken and bloody nose. Panicked murmurs echoed in the room, the screeching of chairs and slamming of tables heard as the other third exorcists moved quickly to restrain their short-tempered brother.

“Catch me hearing you say those words again and you’re DEAD YOU HEAR ME–”

“Madarao, wouldn’t it be wise to use that thing where you knock him out,”

“You know that doesn’t work on him Tewaku,”

“Then maybe we should tie him to a chair or something-”

“Kiredori, that won’t work either,”

Later on, when the others have successfully locked him in his room, ______ visited Tokusa and thank him for standing up to them.

[thecorteztwins]

@survival-cfthe-fittest  I'm sorry this took so long! I definitely did think of it every day, but I didn't have time/energy/proper state of mind to actually write it out each day DX It's really really long, not because you need it all but because I'm SUPER wordy and HAVE A LOT OF THOUGHTS and actually wrote more than this but trimmed it down because you asked for advice not a novel. Anyway.

All of this is mere opinion. Do not think of it as fact. And do not think of these suggestions as mandatory. Think of it more like a menu. You look at it, order what you like, and don't bother with what you don't like. I can be absolutely wrong, and if you think I am, you're under no obligation to take all or any of the advice offered. It's simply the perspective of a single person, who is no more an expert or authority than any other. I also really, really want to emphasize not to feel bad. Not only is everyone always learning and growing as a writer, you're already far far ahead of most people just in being open to help (I could name some published writers who refute all criticism, even ditched their editors, and their work went downhill BAD) and you're also trying to tackle a really difficult thing here. This is a REALLY common problem I see in both RP and published work. So don't think for one single millisecond that having this issue in any way makes you a "bad" writer, it does NOT. Literally every single writer, including the very best, has shit they can get better at. And you've got a head start on getting better by starting before publishing! So this is a good thing! The other thing is that it may not even be totally accurate. I don't read your every thread. I actually DO NOT read people's threads, I'm just...not into that for whatever reason. It's more based on stuff I just accidentally have read while scrolling. So if you feel I said you do something that you DON'T do...you're probably right about that and I'm probably wrong/mistaken/saw one incidence and thought it was a regularity. And we also may have differing opinions on Apocalypse's portrayal and what's best suited for him, so if you see something and say, that's not how I see him, go with your interpretation, not mine. I'm trying to help you write what YOU want, not what I want, but I'm human and have biases even when I think I'm trying to give objective advice. I decided to break this down into three parts. The first part is what I think the problem is. The second is why I think it's happening. The third, which is the longest, are suggestions for solutions. You don't need to take every suggestion. I give a lot of different ones because different things work better for different people, and one might work better for you and what you want than others. It also means that if one suggestion doesn't work for you, you have others to choose from. Also, don't feel like you need to follow a suggestion to the letter; maybe you modify it to suit your needs or to cover something I failed to! The first part, the problem, is Apocalypse frequently crossing the line from angst to wangst...or the line from sympathetic to angsty, depending on how you define these terms. He will frequently bring up his personal tragedy to others, detail it at length, and often very swiftly. He comes off as quite EAGER to tell people, including enemies, how much he's suffered. That, or he makes a big deal out of how persecuted and lambasted he is by the heroes, as if they're just big bullies and he's a misunderstood victim they just hate for no reason; for instance, I remember scrolling on my dash and seeing him talking to a Rachel Summers. Within simply four notes, just four, he had said something along the lines of WHAT WOULD YOU KNOW, YOU'RE THE PRETTY PRINCESS AND IM THE UGLY OGRE. It comes off as him and you just wanting everyone to pity him and fawn over him and feel bad. Now, there are people like this. There are real people who feel that their own suffering makes them entitled to do what they want without consequences, and that anyone who tries to stop them is a bully who just doesn't understand. There are people who will try to squeeze pity out of everyone at every turn, and will use tactics like this, will play the victim, will make a big fuss out of how I HAVE SUFFERED AND YOU ARE SELF-RIGHTEOUS AND THINK I'M JUST A DRAGON TO BE SLAIN and blah blah blah. And this can make for a very good attitude for a villain to have, because that mindset lends itself perfectly to villainy. But I don't think it's what you want with Apocalypse. People like that aren't tragic to audiences, they're petty and obnoxious. This is more Fabian territory than anything else. And that's why it's a problem---it's not going to get you what you want from readers. I can honestly say that if I were reading a book and a villain displayed this attitude, I would hate him more, not less, regardless of what happened to him in his past. In real life, people are owed sympathy for terrible things that have happened to them, regardless of who they are or how they handle it. But with fictional characters, it's different. A character has to earn sympathy from the reader. This is why it doesn't work when many writers try to get sympathy by just tacking on abuse, angst, a tragic past, etc., to their character, be it the hero or villain. I once talked to someone who said she felt her character would be boring if she didn't give her a horrible past. But the thing is, just having the tragic past doesn't fix that. If your character is boring, then giving them a tragic past just makes them a boring character with a tacked-on tragedy. It's a cheap trick, and it does not work. You still have to do the work as a writer. You still have to make them interesting and engaging. Similarly, a character with a perfect life can be the most interesting character ever if they're written well, if they engage the reader, etc. Now, I'm not saying that Apocalypse is boring as you write him. He's not. I'm saying that the same lesson still applies here, that simply having abuse in his background and him bringing it up does not make him sympathetic. You still have to do that in the WAY that you write him. The second part, why it's happening, is simple: You love Apocalypse. And that's not a problem, actually. That's GREAT. You SHOULD love your muse, you SHOULD be invested in your muse, you SHOULD be passionate about your muse. How could you write about someone or something well if you're NOT passionate about them? You feel so strongly about Apocalypse and your interpretation of how you see him and it clearly motivates you AND THAT IS TERRIFIC! DON'T LOSE THAT! It's a GREAT strength as a writer! So, where's the problem? The problem is that since you are so passionate about him and wanting to convey your interpretation, you jump the gun. You want others to see him as you do, because of course ALL writers want their readers to see their characters as they do, but you want them to do it really immediately, ASAP, so they don't have time for any misinterpretations to form. Hence why Apocalypse is so swift to tell others about his tragedy or imply it heavily enough so that they ask. You really, really want other characters to KNOW, so you try to get him to inform them as soon as possibly and as overtly as possible, so that they can understand him like you do, because that's important to you. And again, there's nothing wrong with that being important to you, but doing it this way really won't work that well for many readers, for the reasons I already described. So, what are some ways to do that? That's part three, and here are my own suggestions, based on what works for me: - Don't have him open up so easily or so fast or so frequently. This is your biggest problem I think. From what I've seen, he seems almost eager to tell people that he's gone through all this pain and suffering, but his doing that communicates an image of him that, as I already described, I don't think you want to go for. I don't think you intend him as being a pity-seeker, or as someone who is genuinely looking for help (because he isn't supposed to REALIZE he needs help, is he?) If he's someone who keeps his suffering inside, then have him keep his suffering inside. I'm not saying he can never ever open up under any circumstances, but dial it back. Make him more hesitant, make people have to dig instead of him presenting it to them on a silver platter. I think you did this really, REALLY well in the thread with Haven. And I'm gonna break down why/how you did it well, because I think knowing what you did well and why it worked is just as important, if not MORE so, than knowing what doesn't work and why. For starters, Haven approached him as someone interested in speaking to him and about him. He didn't just start spewing his life story at her. In fact, he avoided it. It took a long time. She kept asking him about himself, and he turned the conversation around on HER. He used his powers to sense HER history and brought that up, so the topic became her pregnancy with the Adversary. He redirected things away from himself and on to her tragedy, so she would be the one on the defensive and distracted from him. I don't know if you realized that was what he was doing, but that's what he did. And it was very good! And turning the topic towards childbirth and lost children gave them some degree of common ground. He may not have had sympathy, but he had a sense of understanding, and ergo reason to feel she might possibly understand his pain in this area in kind (this is also important, not just that Haven understood suffering---everyone has suffered in some way---but in the very specific department of losing a child). So his eventually opening up to her makes more sense than doing it to someone who either doesn't have this common ground and/or Apocalypse doesn't KNOW has common ground. You write him as generally seeing the X-Men as coddled spoiled children who have never known pain and can't understand what he's gone through, so why would he bother explaining himself to them, if he thinks there's no way they could understand? And even if they could understand...they're his ENEMIES. Apocalypse has every reason to think they would just use these vulnerabilities AGAINST him and thus it would be foolish to tell them anything. But Haven is not only not an enemy, she's a powerless human and someone that, since he is probing her mind, he knows is extremely gentle and compassionate pacifist and wouldn't do that. And he probably considers that WEAK, but also not dangerous in any way. So that's another reason his opening up to her makes more sense. And another reason why he should be written as really, really wary of doing the same with X-Men and other "hero" characters; a lot of times it seems like he's just giving this info away to them. And from a tactical standpoint, that's something he should be way too smart for. It also makes sense in that she already had a foot in. Haven is canonically supernaturally sensitive to the feelings of others, most especially their pain, and I played her that way. So it's not just that he chose to tell her, it's that she already could feel it anyway, it's just the REASON for it that was a mystery to her. And he FIGHTS HER every step of the way. He's trying to actively dissuade her and boot her out. He did not WANT her to know. He also argued IN FAVOR of the abuse, justifying it with being how it is nature (to which she countered how even the greatest predators nurture their young, and how that makes them strong, whereas neglect and abuse would make them weak) He didn't try to make himself out as the victim of Ba'al at all. And that speaks much more realistically to the idea of someone who has internalized these views, rather than someone who uses their abuse to try to make everyone feel sorry for them. So obviously this is something you can already do! You just gotta learn to pace yourself and not jump the gun. It takes longer, and I know it's so haaard to wait when you just wanna get to the juicy bits, but ultimately it comes out a lot better this way in my opinion. NOTE: RP is for fun. RP is a release. RP is an escape. So if you're having a day where you just wanna get RIGHT TO THOSE JUICY BITS and WALLOW IN THE ANGST or FROLIC IN THE FLUFF, go for it. Do literally everything I told you NOT to do if it makes you happy. This is a guide more on for when you when you want your A-game going, but that doesn't have to be all the time. Sometimes you just want fluff or angst or crack or whatever, and YOU SHOULD DO IT! There's no editor, no publisher, no wider audience, it's you and your partner and you should do what makes YOU happy. The tips I'm giving here are about when you want to seriously step it up. But you don't have to 'seriously step it up" all the time, or any time you don't want to. Your enjoyment trumps "accuracy" and "quality" and all of that. So don't feel like you have to write in RP as if you were writing for Marvel all the time. When you want to jump straight to the juicy bits, or whatever else, feel free to, and don't feel it makes you a bad writer. We all need escapes. Keep that in mind not just for this tidbit of advice but every other bit too. This does mean that some characters will NEVER find out what's going on with Apocalypse. There are some that he will probably never open up to, because he refuses to trust them or they don't dig for it or he won't give them anything when they do dig (because he has doubtless had lots of people, well-intentioned and otherwise, try to touch his heart over the centuries, he is probably good at avoiding it) And you know what? That's fine. Not everyone needs to have a complete, accurate, and sympathetic view of Apocalypse in-universe. The way a reader sees a character and the way the other characters sees a character are COMPLETELY different things. I think you want the other CHARACTERS to see him as you do as much as you want readers to, and that's why you want these characters informed of this stuff as soon as possible...let that desire go. Let him be ICly misunderstood or not wholly understood. That's natural. That's what applies to everyone in real life. Concentrate on his being conveyed well on an OOC level to muns, not on an IC level to muses. - Think about the abuse from Apoc's point of view. If he is trying to forget the pain or rationalize it, he isn't going to emphasize the agony when he talks about it or thinks about it. He won't play up how bad it was or bad it hurt, he won't try to convey how horrible it was, because that would mean acknowledging and revisiting how horrible it actually was. And if he's trying to avoid that, well...he'll avoid it. Many actual victims of abuse minimize it, they don't play it up, they say the bruise wasn't that big, that it didn't happen that often, etc. In fact, it's a SIGN of abuse that the victim will try to make the abuse seems as small as possible. This is an established thing that professionals are taught to look for. And it's not just when the abuse is going on; one of the biggest struggles that many victims have for YEARS afterwards is accepting how big the abuse actually was and learning to recognize how much they were actually hurt. But sometimes, you write Apocalypse as doing the reverse, he emphasizes how horrible it was, the point he almost seems like he's bragging about it. And that doesn't make him sympathetic, it actually makes him really unlikeable, because it comes off as him thinking he's the biggest victim in the world and everyone needs to feel sorry for him RIGHT NOW. It's a very bratty attitude, and I don't think it's what you're going for. Alternatively, instead of just trying to minimize it, he could be grateful for it, which I think you are going for sometimes, that he's grateful because he believes it made him strong. If he is grateful for it because in his twisted mind it made him strong so it was his father helping him, he will emphasize its pain rather than minimizing, but he would do it in a good way, talk about it like it was some fantastic gift, not as if it were horrible. Which is actually a fuck ton creepier than if he made a big deal about it in a bad way, and shows how mentally warped it made him. - Your Apocalypse also seems to lament that he (he believes) is seen as a monster by everyone. Like I said, I remember a thread with a Rachel Summers where in just four notes, he was saying there was no way she could understand him because she was the beautiful princess and he was the ugly ogre. It came off as very self-pitying, a poor-me everyone-hates-me deal. But I think that's more YOUR lament as a fan of his and less something he would actually be upset about, let alone express in such a way (especially since, again, showing a weak spot to an enemy) I think it would be more in character for him to be indifferent or even take pride in it. I mean, a big thing about him is that he sees himself as "beyond good and evil" right? And he's got a big ego. This seems like a dude that probably does not care for the opinions of lesser mortals. Especially since those same opinions have been applied to him over and over. You write him as having been called a monster a LOT, and he probably has---first for his appearance, but then later through his deeds. You do the things he's done, and the majority of the world is going to hate you. Meaning, he's used to hate, he's used to being called any number of things, he's used to seeing himself as being misunderstood for doing what he thinks is right and necessary. He's used to it on a scale of thousands of years. So, if he's used to it...he's probably got a hell of a thick skin regarding it. I remember reading the advice of another writer who said she finds it completely unbelievable when a character who is meant to be a victim of bullying for YEARS still bursts into tears at the taunts of bullies, because it seems impossible to her that the character would still be so thin-skinned. Especially since showing bullies they have an effect on you gurantees they'll come back for more, so most victims try to make a facade of NOT being effected, even when they are. Also, not to make this personal, but since I do find looking at the emotions of real people helps with writing, and that includes oneself....you mentioned that the nasty things you've said to yourself have made you build a high tolerance for insults and meanness from other people. Just apply that here and imagine that tolerance being built more and more for hundreds and hundreds of years. It might hurt suuuuuper deep down, but the key word is DEEP, not close enough to the surface to be so sensitive about it. He might not even REALIZE the idea that others think of him the "ugly ogre" hurts him. In fact, he might even take pride in it. Consider...what's more powerful, an ogre or a princess? Which character is the "strong" one in the story? The ogre. And power and strength are what Apoc values. The princess is a weak figure that others rescue, the ogre is the threat, and to be a threat, one must be strong. A weak threat isn't a threat at all, after all. Apocalypse might well ENJOY being seen as a monster (or believing others see him that way--he seems to take it for granted that they must) because people fear monsters, and people fear monsters because of the power that monsters have, of what monsters can do to them, and I think that would make "monster" a compliment to Apoc because it's telling him that people are afraid of him and what he can do, proving his power and worth in his mind. So, most likely, Apoc might not CARE about being seen as the monster. Or maybe even be PROUD that he is, and try to further that view. You the writer may utterly disagree with him and believe he's NOT a monster, but resist the temptation to speak through him about how he isn't and how awful it is to call him that, because what you the writer know and what Apocalypse believes should be two different things. I think this also helps play up how sincerely he believes in his doctrine, and how far removed his values are from the standard human morality, that this would be a compliment to him rather than something hurtful. Taking pride in it is is also a lot more dignified than moping and moaning; a character than crumples into self-pity after a single insult doesn't really inspire majesty and awe like Apocalypse should. - Differentiate between what you want and what Apocalypse wants. You want others to see him as sympathetic. But does he? Or does he want them to see him as strong? And being sympathetic and being strong...aren't things I think can co-exist in HIS worldview. After all, why would there be any reason to feel sorry for the strong, right? So he's probably unlikely to tell people things that would make them feel sympathy for him. In fact, he's probably MORE likely to do the reverse, and tell them about his great deeds and accomplishments...which, while great in his eyes, might well be horrific and evil in the eyes of others. But even if they're seeing him as evil, might that not be preferable in his eyes than them feeling sorry for him, as if he was some weakling? So, yes, this will result in a lot of characters seeing him as just pure unsympathetic awful, if he's only telling them the terrible things he's done and never mentioning anything terrible that happened to him. But I think that actually works because, well, remember what Haven said about diamonds being like people? How they have different sides but all those sides are real? In real life, most people will just see one side of you. The side my boss sees is not the side my father sees is not the side my best friend sees is not the side of me that I see. So it's more realistic if different characters have different viewpoints of Apocalypse depending which sides that they see, rather than having the same view pushed on all of them. Which also brings me to the idea that other muses don't need to have a "correct" view of him, or a "complete" view. Like I said, in real life, nobody knows somebody completely. So have Nur inform everyone of his past and why he is like he is, not only doesn't seem like something he'd do, it also comes off as an attempt on the writer's level to make sure that other characters are viewing him the way the writer wants the reader to view him. But the characters aren't the reader. The characters can and absolutely should have incomplete, incorrect, biased, and diverse views about everyone else. So as a writer, don't feel concerned about convincing other muses that Nur is not evil and not a monster and went through lots of horrible things. The characters are not the reader. If Nur doesn't want other people to know what he's been through---and, again, I don't think he would---don't make him tell them just because you want these muses to share your view of him. Be okay with them being wrong about him. I think a lot of Nur's oversharing comes from you knowing how you see him and knowing all about him and wanting other characters to see him "accurately" but it ends up as Nur just info-dumping every crappy thing in his life at people the first chance he gets, which comes off as him wanting everyone to feel sorry for him and as trying to limit the diversity of character viewpoints. - There can be a middle ground between a character knowing nothing about Apocalypse and knowing everything about his loss and history and pain and all of that. A very wide middle ground, in fact. For instance, say they get close enough to see the statues of his queens. They might wander who these women are, why they're immortalized like this. If they dare ask him, he might just say they're his past mates, but not elaborate on anything about them, not name names or share memories or talk about his children or anything like that. Just give a flat answer that technically is true but nothing else. So they're left to just wonder about what his relationship was with these women, if he loved them, how he treated them, why he wanted to remember them, etc. They may never get answers but they do get some additional information about Apocalypse from which to draw their own conclusions. And these conclusions may be wrong, but Apocalypse, not giving a shit about the opinions of others, probably won't correct them if they are. So don't rush to have him tell them everything. Let them come upon bits and pieces on their own, and put together in their own heads what they think. They may have some parts correct. They may have even more incorrect. But whatever they come up with, it's a unique viewpoint to them and will give them a more unique dynamic in how they approach Apocalypse, regardless of it is correct or not, which is more interesting and realistic than making sure everyone knows everything about him. - Consider having him greet the X-Men with taunting rather than with woe-is-me you're-so-mean guilting. Again, when Rachel shows up, he springs that "you're the princess I'm the ogre" thing within four notes, it's an obvious guilt trip thing, it's immediately putting himself in the poor misunderstood victim position and framing the X-Men as judgemental assholes who just hate him. And there are definitely villains I could see doing that. Fabian, for instance, would use that tactic. But canonically, I don't think Apocaypse is that type? You've surely read more of him than I have, so I could be wrong. But check out this section from a comic summary on UncannyXMen.net: "Apocalypse reaches the shore, and begins the climb up a steep cliff face. ‘Whoever you are - you must know I will not yield. For I take sustenance - I take joy - in the struggle with my pain!’ Apocalypse exclaims. ‘Summoned too soon from the embryonic embrace of my restorative womb…I will seek out my Horsemen!’ he boasts as he approaches the building at the top of the cliff and smashes his way into it. ‘I will know why they sought to challenge the X-Men - the great unwashed - on their own initiative’ Apocalypse tells himself. ‘How fortuitous for you, oh, ancientest of adversaries’ remarks Dr Hank McCoy a.k.a. the Beast as he stands with his teammates - Ororo “Storm” Munroe, Bobby “Iceman” Drake, Warren “Archangel” Worthington and Piotr “Colossus” Rasputin as well as X-Factor’s Pietro “Quicksilver” Maximoff. The Beast informs Apocalypse that they took it upon themselves to bring his Horsemen here, to Apocalypse’s former abode. ‘Welcome home, Apocalypse!’ Colossus stands over the unmoving Horsemen - Caliban, Famine and War - as he informs Apocalypse that they are here in search of their comrades. ‘We have reason to believe you know where they are!’ Colossus adds. Iceman tells Apocalypse not to think that his sickly complexion means they are going to take it easy on him. ‘Believe me, children - I would have it no other way!’ Apocalypse replies. " Notice how he doesn't guilt them for attacking him while he's down, he doesn't whine about being cast as the bad guy or the monster, he doesn't justify himself and what he does, he doesn't even object to their actions. He's just like, come at me bro. I would try for that more. You may want the heroes to see things from Apoc's side, but Apoc is not the type to feel he needs justification, is he? Heck, having him WANT them to attack him would also be a good way to show firstly his devotion to his beliefs---testing the strong--and also show off his ego in his confidence they can't possibly win - Imagine how having the powers he does would affect his view of himself vs the people around him. I admit, this actually IS NOT a tip about the topic at hand (making Nur sympathetic and realistic as an abuse victim without crossing the line to whiny) but more just one I think is useful in general when playing a mutant, especially a powerful one. I know I've thought about it a LOT with Anne Marie, because she got her powers at a younger age than most, before puberty, and her powers are also pretty serious ones---controlling the minds and emotions of other people. So, how does it shape the view of a child when they can do that, is what I ask myself? How does that much power over other people that early in life shape who she is now? Let's take a look at Apocalypse's situation. He's born obviously different from everyone else, that's got to produce feelings of strangeness and isolation. Even if everyone else had treated him well and accepted him, he'd still likely feel that way, because it's natural to wonder 'why do I look like this'? And unlike modern mutants, he wouldn't have an explanation. He doesn't know what a mutant is and neither does anybody else. But then come the powers. I don't know when he got his powers, but they're a lot bigger than Anne Marie's, and he's now had them for thousands of years. So for thousands of years, he's had these immense abilities that could crush others with a mere thought, destroy with a whim, etc. How does shape how he looks at and relates to other people? I feel like it would end up isolating him more, because he can no longer look at others as equal, he can't engage with people as equals knowing that, if he felt like it, he could just rip them apart as easily as blinking. You can't have arguments with people like that, or learn to respect them, or any other number of normal things that are a part of ordinary human experience. And even though he may have hated himself as a freak, I also feel that it's hard after a certain point not to look down on others as well. He has all this power, and they don't. He can do things they can't, survive things they can't, he doesn't age, he's like a different species and they're clearly the weaker ones. It would be lonely, and yet, at the same time...it's got to give you an ego too. Especially since, again, he would be the only one of his kind he knew of, he wouldn't know other mutants, so his best explanation would probably be, as others thought, that he was a god or demon or an offspring of such, or that he'd been blessed in some way. So he'd either be thinking of himself as something other than human, and thus apart from them and their rules and laws and relationships, or he'd be thinking of himself as blessed, and therefore deserving of these abilities and the benefits they bring, and ergo, everyone else is undeserving, so he's better than they are. It creates a blend of loneliness and ego, of feeling separate but also feeling everyone else isn't good enough, and I think you've been playing this up pretty well, actually. I just figured this might be some more food for thought to help you even more. Another thing is that his long lifespan probably makes him that much more indifferent to others---they're gone so fast, what do they matter, and it's not like there's not a million more like them. Or maybe you think Apocalypse would handle all this in totally different way than I'm describing---which also fine! Just, think about it is all, because his existence, both in his longevity and his power, are so different from our own, I feel like it must create a really unique perspective on his part, and thinking about what that is will probably help your overall portrayal, not just this one aspect of it. - And finally.... ....even if your portrayal is absolutely perfect in every way and logically should get across everything you want it to...there's still gonna be some people who don't view him as you want them to, and that's not your fault, and you shouldn't worry about it, because there is nothing you can do in some cases. Whenever there's a villain, especially a big and/or important villain, there will always be two camps of people: the ones determined to woobify them into a precious lump with no faults no matter what, and the OPPOSITE extreme. And then there's just the fact that everyone sees things a little differently, different ways of writing effects different people, etc, and some are more different than others for whatever reason. So stuff that GENERALLY works on a GENERAL audience will always have outliers. Don't fret about it. Just do your best. And also don't fret if your best is not PERFECT, or what you necessarily had in your head. I know that this is easier said than done. I beat myself up HUGELY for not being able to get what's in my head properly on to paper, because I know I have good ideas if only I could just CONVEY them well. It drives me nuts. I am sure it drives you nuts too. I think it drives anyone nuts who writes. And I don't have any secret to making peace with it, besides to just keep working on it because it's something you love and enjoy, and be proud of the progress you do make instead of ashamed of the progress you haven't yet made.

[sansfangirl4life-blog]

Drunken Confessions

Whew man! So I did a poll on DA basically asking what kind of LostxXans oneshot I should try. ‘Bringing home a drunk friend from the bar’ was the winner so~ here you all go!

Lost is mine and Xans belongs to @jeyawue

Drunken Confessions

Xans hummed as he walked down the street, the streetlights slowly beginning to flicker on as the sun set. "Heh, bet Lost is gonna be thrilled ta see this shit." He smirked as he looked at the small, neatly wrapped present. "He's been wantin' this for awhile." He stopped as he waited for the light to change. "Normally I'd just teleport over there, but eh~ I don't feel like it." He frowned a little as he looked at the streetlight. Although...he's been kinda down lately. Wonder why that is?

Lost had been his friend for several years, ever since they had both been in middle school. He knew he could count on his friend to have his back, no matter what. So when he decided to ask someone out several months ago Lost had supported him. Ever since then though, they had both grown a little distant. Not to mention Xans had broken up with said person just as quickly as asking them out.

Since then, he'd been shamelessly sleeping around. As the light turned green he made his way down the street, keeping the present close to his chest. Yeah, I'd be stupid to miss his birthday though. He chuckled a little. I can't wait to see that shocked look on his face! His eyes always get so big they're like damned dinner plates! The simple thought had him smiling as he made his way to a small, two story house. Granted he's been studying a lot lately, college and all that. Fucking nerd.

He dug around under the ugly garden gnome sitting next to the door, an April Fools day gift from a couple years ago and nabbed the spare key. He unlocked the door and headed inside, kicking the door shut. "Oi, Lost! I'm fucking hungry!" He snickered and hid the present by the coat rack. "Lost~? C'mon, I want a sandwich!" He frowned as he looked around the house. "Huh....thought he'd be home." He made his way through the dark house, his frown growing as he shivered a bit. "Cold in here too...has he been gone all day? Usually that little weirdo has the house kinda warm. Although I'll admit, it's pretty cozy." He opened the door to the spare bedroom he usually would crash in, only to be met with nothing. "So...not here, not downstairs....his room?"

He made his way down the hall, stopping just inches from the closed door. Wait.....is this right? I feel like a fucking snoop. He frowned and looked at the floor, sighing. But if he is home....and he's this quiet....maybe something's wrong. He took a deep breath and opened the door, being met only with darkness. "Well...shit. He really isn't here. Usually he'd be studying right now." 

He turned on the light and his stomach dropped. Lost's bed was a messy tangle of sheets, pictures of him and Xans strewn across the floor. "Fuck dude, since when were you this messy? I'm the messy asshole, not ya Lost." He looked around the room, picking up all the pictures and putting them back in the shoebox labelled 'Hangouts'. "So...where the fuck is-"

'When I was six years old I broke my leg~ I was running from my brother and his friends~'

Xans grabbed his cellphone and answered the call. "Lost, where the fu-"

"Are you a friend of this kid?" A familiar voice filtered through the speaker, just not the one Xans wanted to hear.

"Yeah, I am. Why the fuck ya callin' me Grillby?" He scowled. "He isn't there....is he?"

"Yup, he is, and 100% wasted." Xans frowned, his stomach churning slightly. Wasted? Since when did Lost even drink?! "Can ya keep 'im there? I'll head over as soon as I can."

"Good, because I'm sick of listening to his bellyaching." Grillby hung up and Xans headed out the door.

Can't teleport to the other side of town! Fuck Lost, why the hell are ya there?!

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Lost grumbled as he clung to an empty ketchup bottle. "Why'd ya have to take my cellphone? That isn't fair~...."

"Kid, you're wasted and you're too damned nice for this place." Grillby hummed, cleaning out a small shot glass. His firey body flickered slightly as Lost just waved his hand. "No, you're not getting another one."

"Aww c'mon~." Lost shifted in  the barstool, letting out a small hiccup. "I just wanna drown it...please lemme drown it out...." He let out a tired, sad sigh as he dragged his finger along the bar. "Why does it hurt so much Grillby?"

"..."

"I mean, he was happy! I helped him get with the guy and then he just....he just...dumps him? Sleeps around like a whore?! H-He's better than that! I know he is but....but...." He let out another , weak hiccupped sob and slowly stood up. "I'm just gonna go home....I don't wanna see him..."

"Lost, get your ass back in that stool."

"Nope~!" Lost turned and stuck his tongue out, his feet staggering as he clumsily made it to the door. "And you're not stopping me, ya hot asshole~!" He opened the door, listening to the bell chime. "Hee hee, jingle tinkle~..." He left the bar and began a slow, wobbly walk down the sidewalk. "Fucking asshole.....he's soooo late for everything nowadays~! Always 'too busy' or 'at work' or 'hanging with the boyfriend'....load a shit he is!"  He shuffled along as the streetlight above him suddenly popped and blew, making him yelp. "F-Fuck you too electricity! Heh...this little light of mine....it isn't gonna shine~..."

"Well lookie here boys." Lost stopped when he glanced around, frowning.

When did I get to this alley? Ugh, cities are so confusing....

"And where do you think you're headed?" A tall, scrawny man grabbed Lost by his hood and spun him around, glaring at his flushed face. "Yer five sheets to the wind, aren't ya boy?"

"Mmmhmm~...." Lost let out a tired, sad giggle. "And right now I'm kinda lonely...." He leaned heavily against the man as he grinned. "Are ya lonely too~?"

"Heh, he really is just a  wasted kid." Another guy chuckled. "Well he is rather pretty for a boy...whaddya wanna do?"

"I think we should make sure he'd sell well." Lost blinked slowly and felt a hand tug at his black, white tipped hair.

"O-Ow~.....sorry, but pain isn't my thing here...."

"Aww don't worry about that...we'll make sure you feel real nice." The man pinned Lost to a wall, his hands grabbing Lost's butt and squeezing. "Fairly nice build, hmm?"

"Heh, nah....too scrawny~....No one wants that...they want nice built guys like....like Xans. He....he's got a good body...all muscles and-ah!" A hand gripped his semi hard member and he began to push slightly. "O-On second thought, I don't wanna....lemme go...." When the man ignored him, he could feel his heart hammering faster. "I...I said lemme go!"

"Now hold on a moment, didn't ya say ya were lonely~?" The man grinned, grabbing both of Lost's wrists and pinning them above his head. He struggled weakly as the man checked his pockets, grabbing his wallet. "Well you can just buy our entertainment if you want."

"Let go! S-Someone, he-mmmmph?!" He felt lips being forced onto his and he screamed as a tongue was shoved in his mouth. He bit down, making the man yell and back up as he panted. "HELP! SO-" A hand landed harshly against his cheek, sending him sprawling to the ground.  He coughed as a harsh kick slammed into his stomach and he curled up, covering his head. They're...they're gonna hurt me.....no...please!

"Now...that ain't a very polite thing to do guys." Lost's hazy eyes looked up to see Xans standing at the open end of the alley, leaning against a wall. "Fer starters, he's drunk off his ass, and secondly, he said no. Don'tcha know what the word means?"

"Tsk, look at that, another pasty ass freak." One of the guys taunted. Xans just sighed and walked over.

"So, I'm gonna guess that ya aren't gonna just simply leave, eh? That's fine." His eyes glowed in the dark, the grin on his face unsettling. "That means I can give ya both a real fucking bad time!" The next few moments were blur for Lost as the alley glowed with magic. His vision was swimming and he struggled to stay conscious as Xans dodged the men, a grin on his face. As soon as he landed the first punch, Lost felt darkness claim his mind.

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Xans grumbled as he readjusted his jacket. "Damn...one had a knife." He sighed. "Fuckers....think they can get away with that shit?" He turned to Lost and knelt down next to him, his stomach churning with worry. "Oi, Lost...ya ok?" He propped the limp young man against the wall, gently patting his cheeks. "Hello~? I'm not gonna be able ta carry yer ass all the way home without a little help." 

When he received no response, he frowned. "Ok then~...." He lifted Lost's shirt up and blew a giant raspberry into it, making Lost jerk awake and yell.

"Goddamn asshole!" Lost quickly yanked his shirt down, cheeks still flushed red from the alcohol. "M...my head hurts...." He whimpered, rubbing his forehead. "X...Xans? Is that you?"

"Yup. Did ya lose yer memory of the past ten minuets or are ya that blackout drunk?" Xans sighed and slung one of his arms over his shoulder. "C'mon Lost....I'm gettin' yer ass home and in bed."

"Don't...don't wanna go back yet....still have a drink to finish...." Lost mumbled as Xans slowly stood up. Lost's feet dragged slightly under him as Xans began to slowly walk them both out of the alley. "Tired of....of studying and....and bein' alone...." Xans frowned and simply shrugged.

"Ya ain't alone, stupid. I came by today ta see ya, and yer house was all dark." He explained. He held Lost by the waist and dragged him along the sidewalk until they were near his house. "Alright, gonna teleport inside ok? Please don't throw up on me."

"Heh heh....then you'd be a stinker...." Xans rolled his eyes and his left eye flashed. For a moment, then two were falling through darkness. Xans let out a deep sigh as he held Lost close. His eye flashed again and he landed on Lost's bed. Lost groaned and made a beeline for the bathroom, the sound of wretching filling Xans's ears.

I'd rather hear that than... He frowned as he recalled Lost's panicked cries for help, his shout of pain from being kicked. Fuck...if I hadn't gotten there in time, he'd....he could've....goddamnit Lost since when were ya so careless?! Lost stumbled into the room, tilting to the right and Xans had to almost jump off the bed to catch him. "Holy shit Lost, yer really drowning in alcohol, aren't ya?"

"S-Since when did...y-you begin to care again?" Lost mumbled, his body shaking. "J-Just go away...." Xans frowned and slowly slid Lost's hoodie off. 

"No~...w-we're not dating~..."

"Shut up Lost. Ya sound stupid." Xans grumbled, reaching down and taking off Lost's untied tennis shoes and socks.

"....You wouldn't wanna...." Xans frowned and looked up at Lost, hanging his hoodie from a hook on the back of his door.

"Now c'mon Lost, we've been through this. There ain't nothin' wrong with ya. Ya just need to go out and-"

"I-I don't want to go out and just 'get lucky' like you did!" Lost snapped, his red and blue eyes wide and shining. "And...and you dumped him anyways! I fucking supported you and you just...just....fuck you!"

"Hey, calm yer tits Lost. What the fu-"

"No, you shut up!" Lost gripped the bedsheets under him, his entire body trembling. "You've lied to me for the past three months! You didn't tell me you broke up, then I heard from Grillby that you were sleeping around town! Why?! Why the fuck would-"

"I needed the money, ok?" Xans sighed, running a hand through his white hair. "Look, ya need sleep, lemme just-"

"DON'T WALK AWAY FROM ME XANS!" Xans turned, eyes wide as Lost stood up, his hands balled into fists and his eyes filled with anger. "I'm tired of you dodging my questions! You wouldn't answer your cellphone, you stopped coming over, no one knew what was going on with you! Why-"

"I just wanted ta buy ya somethin' nice fer yer birthday!"

"MY BIRTHDAY WAS A MONTH AGO!!!!" Xans froze as Lost sighed, holding himself. "It...it was last month....and you promised you'd be here and you never showed.....s-so...."

Fuck...fuck was it? This is October so...fuck...oh my fucking god.... "Lost, look, I'm sorry I-"

"No. Just...just stop it. Stop stringing me along." Xans walked over to Lost and grabbed his shoulders. "Quit leading me on with kindness....if you don't want to be here with me anymore than just fucking grow a pair and say so."

"Now hold the fuck on. Who the hell said anything about leaving ya here alone? Yer drunk as shit and someone nearly....well, I ain't leavin' ya here alone." Lost's shoulders began to shake and Xans pulled him close. "It's alright....I'm right 'ere ok?"

"It...it just isn't....isn't fair....." Lost sobbed against him, gripping the front of his shirt tight. "And...and I could never tell you....I just wanted a chance to....to tell you...." Xans tilted his head as he felt his shirt slowly stain with tears.

No, don't pry. He's drunk. He's so fucking wasted right now.... He thought. A good friend wouldn't pry. But... He rubbed soothing circles along Lost's back and he let out a tired sigh. I'm already a shitty friend. "Whaddya mean Lost?"

"I...I never got to tell you how I felt. Knowing you wanted someone else and I just...just couldn't. Then wh-when you started avoiding me I thought it was because I fucked up...or you...you didn't want to hang out anymore or...." Lost continued on, his voice slurred slightly from his sobs. "But I love you and-" He stopped and backed up, covering his mouth. "S-Shit I... I didn't- I'm just drunk and I...I need to-" Xans pressed a finger against his lips, looking into wide, frantic eyes.

He....he loves me... He frowned sadly as he took in Lost's disheveled appearance. His clothes were wrinkled, his skin seemed duller than the last time he had seen him. There were dark bags under his eyes, and his usually shiny hair was dull and flat. He loves me...the shitty asshole of a friend that forgot his damned birthday....who left him alone.... "Why? How long?"

"I....I don't know." Lost whispered quietly, his voice tiny and sad. "But.....since high school. I just...realized it one day, that's all. But you never seemed interested so I just never bothered to confess in the open. So I asked Muffet for help and she helped me leave those dounuts...."

"Wait, those were you?" He frowned. "Those were my favorite flavor... Berry Contrary."

"It still sounds stupid." Lost mumbled. "I guess it was all wasted then, wasn't it? So...now you know." He let out a shaky sigh and turned around. "....Just leave. Please...leave me alone." Xans frowned and looked at Lost.

He seems so small....scared..... He let out a long sigh as his Soul seemed to pound hard in his ribs. I...I can't leave him like this. And...when I saw him in the alley... His stomach churned and seemed to boil again at the thought of those men touching Lost in the way they had. Fuck it... "I ain't leavin." He walked over and turned Lost around. He gripped his chin, making their eyes lock. "And how on earth could I be so blindly stupid as to have never noticed yer feelings? I'm a shitty ass friend...and I don't deserve ya." He moved in closer, enjoying the blush on Lost's face. Fuck...how on earth did I ignore this? "But....ya know? I don't care. I'm also selfish...and I'mma about to either royally fuck up....or fix a mistake." He then leaned in close and placed a gentle kiss against Lost's pale, chapped lips.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This...this isn't happening.... Lost thought as Xans's warm, moist lips moved against his own. He responded almost instantly, tilting his head to let Xans's tongue in as he deepened the kiss. I'm hallucinating....I'm still in that filthy alley...I have to be.... When they finally moved apart, Lost had his eyes closed. "I'm asleep...right?"

"I know I'm dreamy and all that shit, but yer not sleepin' Lost." Xans chuckled. Lost opened his eyes and Xans smiled. "Now...c'mon. Smile fer me eh? Ya know, I never realized how nice your smile truly is..." Lost laughed quietly, resting his forehead against his chest. "There...ya see? All be-" He was caught off guard as Lost gave him a needy, sloppy kiss. Lost wrapped his arms around Xans's waist and they slowly moved, flopping backwards onto Lost's bed. "Lost, are ya-"

"Please Xans." Lost whispered against his lips. "I...I want you. I've wanted you for so long....please while I'm still drunk."

"Ya know, that's possibly the worst idea ya've ever had." Xans smirked. "I like it..." He moved off of Lost, taking off his hoodie, but stopping when Lost grabbed his hand. "Hmm?"

"C-Can I...undress you?" Lost blushed darkly, the alcohol still stirring in his blood. Xans nodded and he very slowly took off Xans's shirt. His hands trailed along Xans's torso, gentle slim fingers almost feathery against his white skin.

"Go ahead Lost....touch all ya want."

"I just...I'm just afraid that I'll really wake up..."

"Again, this ain't a dream." Xans took his hands and kissed the knuckles gently. "Tonight...I'm yers." Lost nodded and felt Xans's hands slide under his shirt. 

"Now....yer turn." He carefully pulled Lost's white shirt over his head, sighing as he looked at his chest. He could see his ribs slightly and he couldn't help the concerned glance he gave. "Lost....have ya been eating properly?"

"Please, can't this wait until morning?" Lost all but begged, wrapping his arms around Xans's neck. "Tonight, I just want you....let me have this." Xans nodded and he felt Lost's lips against his neck, kissing slowly. Xans sighed at the gentle touches, moving and placing a hand in his locks and tugging softly. "Ngh~..."

"If yer as hard as I think ya are, why are we still wearin' pants?" Lost chuckled a little, his fingers reaching down to play with the elastic waistband of Xans's shorts. He slowly slid them down along with his boxers and gasped when he was greeted with Xans's semi-hard erection. "Now c'mon Lost....yer jus' goin' slow on purpose...." Lost blinked and knelt down. "Lost, wh-oh fuck~..." He felt lips around his member, his tongue slowly wrapping around his member. “Shiiiit....."

"Mmmnph...." Lost hummed a little as he slid his tongue around Xans, sucking and nipping gently. One of his hands reached up and began to fondle Xans's sac, pale hands tugging harshly at his hair. "Nnh!" Xans tried not to buck in 

Lost's mouth but as Lost gave a harsh suck he thrusted his hips in response and forced Lost to swallow even more of his thick length. Lost coughed slightly before hollowing his cheeks and sucking hard. Xans moaned and felt Lost's hand give a squeeze on his sac and he sucked at the same time and he came hard in Lost's mouth. "Mmmhmm....." Lost swallowed his cum, slowly standing up to look into Xans's eyes.

"Fuck...yer like a little succubus when yer horny." Xans chuckled. "I quite like this side of ya." Lost simply smiled and he leaned in closer, licking a trail of cum that had dribbled down his chin.

"Ah...Xans please...."

"Please what?"

"I-I want you to fuck me..." He whispered as Xans bit his neck. "Gh!" He licked and sucked on his neck, leaving a dark, growing bruise. "Please~...."

"Heh, yer wish is my command, birthday boy." He chuckled as he slowly slid Lost's pants and boxers off, leaving them both bare in the moonlight bedroom. He watched as Lost fumbled on his bedside table, grabbing a tube. "Oh you dirty little minx...so that's why mah pics were all over yer bed~..." He blushed and Xans chuckled. "It's alright....we both get the real thing now, eh?" Lost shoved the tube against his chest and he smirked. He squeezed the lube out and onto his member, rubbing until it was smooth and slick. "Alright, ya ready?"

"I-I've been ready since high school..." Lost admitted, blushing harder. Xans chuckled and carefully entered Lost, feeling his legs twitch slightly. "Nnnh! F-fuck..."

"Yer s-so tight Lost...relax a bit...." Xans whispered, leaning down to place a gentle kiss to his forehead. "I won't hurt ya." He slid out and then back in, going past the first ring of muscle and easily into the next. "Shit...so tight and wet....yer such a fucking perfect fit fer me...."

"X-Xans...faster...I want more..." Lost whimpered, bucking his hips to get Xans in deeper. His legs came up and wrapped themselves around Xans's waist, trying to force him in further. "Hngh~!!!" As Xans thrusted further in, Lost gasped as he hit his prostate deep inside him. "X-Xans! Fuck, Xans!"

"Heh, maybe another day." Xans chuckled. "G-God yer so fucking good and tight....shit...." He felt Lost clamp around his member and he groaned as Lost came all over him, his hot cum mixing with the sweat on his body. "S-Shit...." He came hard in Lost, feeling Lost jerk slightly at the sensation. "Heh....not used ta it, eh Lost?"

"......"

"Uhh, Lost?" He withdrew himself from the young man under him to look at his face. "Pfft.....damn." Lost had passed out, mouth wide open as he drooled onto his pillow. He let out soft, gentle snores as he laid there, cum leaking out of him. 

"Man, aren't ya a sight." He left the room to get a wet washcloth. Wiping himself down, he went back to the bathroom and slowly cleaned Lost up.

"Mngph....don't want fries.....want burger....." Lost muttered in his sleep. "Goes good with....with mustard.....mmmm...." Xans pulled his cellphone out and quietly recorded Lost's sleepy mumbles.

"Heh, this is just golden." Xans snickered. He put his phone away and carefully tucked Lost in. He turned to leave when a hand grabbed his wrist.

"....Stay. Please stay." He sighed softly, turning to look at Lost's face and pleading eyes.

"....Alright." Xans walked to the other side of the bed, curling up under the covers. He felt Lost curl close to his chest, mumbling incoherently as he fell back to sleep. "We seriously need ta talk in the mornin' Lost."

"Zzz....."

"But I swear ta god...you'd better not throw up on me when ya get up."