#30 now and just recently started realizing that the more pressure i put on myself the worse it is for me

[kirchefuchs]

GET CLOVERED MOTHER SHUCKER

NEHEHEH

Okay, break from the fish talk show. Time to talk about my week! That's a very pretty clover btw.

Okay so first off, I did join the Narrator Swap discord for the month of June and I posted my first art for it two days ago. That has been super fun and I can't wait to get my partner for next week!!!

Now the big thing was yesterday. Because yesterday was my oldest brother's birthday and he wanted to bring us to a convention, so some of us joined him for that, myself included. I don't know if this is surprising or anything, but this was the first big convention I've ever been to and my goodness, it sure was something. I didn't know a whole ton about the convention going in so I didn't go to any of the panels. (Though my sister in law told me they had a Sandman panel, but I lowkey forgot and only remembered 30 minutes after the panel started. Pretty upset about that). Anyways! I did end up getting some cool things, though most of what was being sold seemed to be more anime focused there were some other cool things I found.

I ended up getting two charms, an Ineffable Husbands one for myself and a Dreamling one for my sister. I also go a really cute Blackbonnet print signed by the artist (it's so cute!!), a little sewn keychain of my favorite little dragon Figment, a really cute Ponyo sweater, and an adorable strawberry frog keyboard for my computer (cuz I really needed a new one).

So overall, a super fun experience!! I definitely have determined that next time I go to a big con I definitely need to look into everything happening the day I'm going and figure out what events I want to participate in. Also, I should probably try to finish up some of my more casual cosplays, such as the Narrator or the RK900 hoodie I've been very slowly working on. This is because I went to this con in my Ghostbusters cosplay. Since I had a proton pack I couldn't have my backpack with me, which got kinda annoying when I had some downtime and didn't have my sketchbook to draw in. So more casual cosplays would work best for me.

Another thing I've discovered. I walk really poorly. My legs and ankles are so sore right now because of how I walk and how much I was walking yesterday. I realized a few hours in as my feet were starting to hurt, that I walk in such a way that I have a little bit of a limp and it puts a lot of strain on my left leg. Along with that, when walking my ankles are very fluid in their movements in such a way that I tend to put more pressure on the outer edge of my feet. In short. I'm super unbalanced and it wrecks my ankles when I walk like this for a while. So. Oof. This explains why every once in a while one of my ankles kind gives out and I either fall or almost fall. It's very rare, but it happens sometimes. Don't really know what to do about that other than trying to be more conscious of how I'm walking.

So that's about if for con related stuff I guess, though this next thing is a tiny bit related I guess. I have noticed recently, both on Tumblr and at the con, that Trigun Stampede is really popular right now. I don't know much about the anime though my sister did show me an episode or two of the original Trugun series. I did notice a lot of really cool art of Vash while at the con, along with some amazing cosplaysm there was this one person selling the cutest little tiny acrylic standees of him and I kinda wanted one, but I felt like it would be kinda weird to get art of a character from a fandom I'm not in. Anyways, this whole thing has a point. That being, I talked to my sister about it and she said I definitely should watch both Trigun series, sooo.... might end up doing that in my free time. I will probably start with the original Trigun then watch Stampede, cuz that just makes sense to me. I don't know how into it I will get, but I guess we will have to see.

I will have you know you most likely won't have to worry about me dropping TSP since I have a lot of people, both friends and you guys, keeping me into it. So don't worry!! I will not stop drawing TSP art for a long while!!! I just thought that would be important to say.

But yeah, that's kinda been the hughlights of my week. Fun things :)

[akindplace]

Hi, I wanted to say that i really love your page and the content you post there, it's very comforting. I don't know where to start, but I recently I have been doing some sort of introspection of myself since I have been thinking about my future d I have realised that I seem to care a bit much about other people's feelings and expectations about me, as if I don't have a personality that represents me ?? Sometimes I worried it might cause me some problems. Like for example people see me as someone who is "serious", " a hard-working student", "quiet", "perfect", these traits are negative but it feels like I "trapped" in these labels ? And also I think it might be because I feel frustrated with school/college academically wise so there is that (I like studying but I feel I let grades define my worth, so it's not really healthy. It's something I have been dealing with a lot)

And I also feel frustrated and anxious in general because I actually don't know what to do, I just want to have a peaceful and quiet life, financial stability and being private about personal stuff, which are things that I can't seem to find. I just want to mind my business and keep my internal peace but it's almost impossible 🥲

Everyday feels a burden to me, living is exhausting sometimes, I keep worrying about serious stuff and I think it reflects on my behaviour/ social interactions 🙃

If it’s possible for you right now maybe talking this things through in therapy can help you figure yourself out. By what you’ve mentioned, you’re probably still in your early twenties and you probably still have a lot to learn about yourself, and that will happen as you grow older, but don’t put too much pressure to have it all known now, to have it all together. It’s okay to look for different jobs until you find one career you like, that provides you more stability. I’ve been talking to a few people about stuff like this and I feel like everyone thought they’d be in a different place in there late 20s/early 30s and it kind of feels like everyone is just winging it. I think when we were younger we thought adults had a lot more freedom and they were very mature and wise, and I realize they probably were just winging too.

Your goals are worth it, and it’s okay to want just want a peaceful life especially cause the world seems to be anything but right now… and it’s really hard not to crave stability when you know it’s been hard to achieve. Those things are worth trying and it’s okay if it takes time to figure out what to do. It gets a little better as you grow and you start caring less about people’s expectations because you learn what makes you happy and that most of the time people’s ideas on what should make you happy aren’t necessarily a fact. If no one lives with your choices but you, then you should get to choose (based on your experiences, and it’s okay to try out a ton of different things). You kinda start to realize that people pleasing usually means you sacrifice a lot of yourself and it gets easier to choose yourself.

A few years ago I felt like I had no personality and like I needed to please people or else something terrible would happen, but the only terrible thing happening was that I was miserable. People pleasing is still something I struggle with, but in a lot of ways I figured out who I was outside of the people I knew and their expectations, and I started to figure out where I wanted to go from there.

The tldr here is that you still have time to figure out and to go little by little until you find what makes you comfortable. Don’t pressure yourself too much to have life mapped out, and don’t let those pressures come from other people either, if it’s possible. They don’t get to tell you the best way to be an adult, because no one has it all figured out. I really hope things get better and that you find the stability you want.

[the-vi-llain]

https://uquiz.com/quiz/oz0xOu/hogwarts-houses-but-pottermore-can-die-by-my-blade

i used to be a Ravenclaw and recently discovered (after healing from some things) i’m a Gryffindor!

i thought this test was the perfect thing to test my theory on (bc FUCK jk rowling and pottermore)

i got gryffindor and then re-took the test how my younger self would have answered, and got ravenclaw. i bolded the part of the ravenclaw description that made me make this post bc it was just so on the nose to my situation

Gryffindor - my result

Gryffindors believe in innate worth, innate characteristics, sort of your personality is that way because That Is Who You Are. Similar to hufflepuffs in this way, anti-slytherin experience haha. Gryffindors, unlike Hufflepuffs, are an external versus internal change maker. Because of this, they are often more broadly idealistic than hufflepuffs (think range, although they both hold their core values very deeply, hufflepuffs are on a smaller more condensed scale whereas gryffs will spread themselves thinner. Puffs do not have to change the world, rather they create a Home in which to put their world into, whereas a lot of Gryffindors struggle with feeling that they aren’t doing Enough, not Enough good, not Enough love. That the failures of the world are in part because they haven’t done enough to help personally). Gryffindors are very solid with their identity. While slytherins/ravenclaws will see their body/their reflection in a mirror, a scientific fact of life or something they wish they could/can change and shape, Gryffindors (with some exceptions for gender, trauma, and mental illness) tend to be confused that there are answers other than “I see myself in the mirror.” However, Gryffs can be performative, because while they see themselves, they need to be told that they are going in the right direction, they need to be loved, they need to help. Gryffindors will lose themselves a bit in an empty room, in isolation, moreso than hufflepuffs or ravenclaws. They create and change the world around them FOR the world around them, and so the world can look at them and say “okay, you did it, its okay now.” In this way, they are closest to slytherins, seeking validation, seeking a legacy, even though they may not even do it/realize its for themselves. They do good, or they try to, based on how they have defined it for themselves. They will care for you with all of them, if you earn it. They will hold you. But the voice in their head says “am I sure that this is what good looks like. Am I sure that this is enough.” From your friendly neighborhood Hufflepuff, sometimes doing what you need to take care and save yourself is the best thing for the world. Maybe cook something, have a lil dance party. You are an important part of the world. Start small, and love that part the most. You can add on from there c:

Ravenclaw - result when taking quiz as my younger self

Ravenclaws shape the world around them, and create, in order to create a world that better suits themselves and their goals, rather than Slytherins who shape and create/recreate themselves to suit the world, meaning they are an external house, creating and impacting in the world around them rather than in themselves. Unlike Gryffindors, the other external house, Ravenclaws do not feel as much pressure to be seen in a sort of grand legacy or entirely shape the world around them. They give and seek knowledge and creation because, in a very basic sense, they feel like they need to. In a way I’ve said it “I could not write poetry for 30 years and that wouldn’t mean I’m not a poet. I am a poet. That does not change.” But Ravenclaws will get restless if they don’t create if they don’t learn. Their legacy doesn’t mean that the whole world will remember them forever. Its that they will create/make/do something that will matter to even one person enough that they will be remembered. A lot of Ravenclaws feel tied to their Ravenclaw identity because they don’t quite know who they’d be if they weren’t the ‘intelligent one’ if you will. But Ravenclaws sometimes forget that they create beauty every day, learn things new and small every day, without even meaning to. Ravenclaws believe identity is created/forged/remade constantly as information is gathered, and often try to seem neutral, scared of sharing an opinion unless they’ve thought it through completely and are certain they should stand by it. Ravenclaws are often searching, looking for something bigger than them, as almost to prove they are small in comparison. Sometimes the best thing a Ravenclaw can do is realize that all those wonderful books and poems and pieces of art that make you dream of a fantasy world were made in this world. This place, so full of love, that gave them to you in order for you to love it back. A lot of ‘gifted kids’ put themselves in Ravenclaw, without realizing that it was the rest of the world that put them in Ravenclaw, and not something that they chose. If that’s the case, maybe now is the time to ask yourself who is it you want to be? The self is a construct loves, and a uquiz doesn’t define you. You define you. You’re so good at creating Ravenclaw friends. Create you. You’re already magnificent. You’re already worth it. Now its time to look at yourself and give some love to that self, to ask it what it wants to be. You are, more than anything else, your greatest masterpiece.

shoutout to the creator: greylunar

[thrythlind]

So, I discovered this webcomic only recently when the creators' twitter account ended up on my feed somehow with an advertisement for one of their other projects. I clicked through to their profile and found a link for an upcoming episode of this one and it's quite endearing.

The premise of an anime character becoming real is interesting and reminiscent of a character idea of mine who gets offered one of three types of magic related to stories. One was to bring characters into her world, one was to shift her world to be more like a story, and the third was to embody characters from stories. She opted for the third because it only affected her. ... And realized it was a real thing later when she started embodying a villain she absolutely hated (since it triggered on passion rather than liking). Granted, it was still her filtered through that character so she was still basically a decent person, just behaving in a bit more sinister manner.

Personal point of speculative fiction relatability dealt with, I'm going to move on to the more interesting stuff.

Now, if you were expecting life and death adventure with this, you'll be disappointed. It literally is a slice-of-life comic. There is a leaning toward romance since it revolves heavily around the developing romance between the two leads, but it is a more general slice of life comic regarding life as a queer person.

It deals with issues like what it means to come out or knowing when you're ready to do so. It talks about the fact some people might have a difficulty reaching that step (to be honest, I haven't told most of my family I'm ace despite having come to this realization around 3-4 years ago in my early 40s.) It presents several sexualities, looks at ally-ship, gender identity, and the peer pressure that can come from both straight and queer cultures.

Given the lovely mix of neurodivergence and asexuality I dealt with as a kid in high school in the early to mid 90s and lacking even the vocabulary to be able to discuss or identify this sort of thing, I can recognize a lot of my own confusion and discomfort from the teens through to my forties. I'm very much remembering how I've referred to myself as "broken" several times from my teens to my forties as I tried to understand what was "wrong" with me.

On learning that asexuality and aromantic were things I then didn't consider myself that because, hey, I like shipping people and sometimes read erotic stuff... though usually skipping most of the sex scenes. So even after learning about asexuality in my late 30s, I didn't figure out I was on that spectrum until my 40s (now 46). And it's only recently that I've started to cast off the "I'm broken" part of my thinking and understanding why the handful of failed attempts to ask a girl in high school or woman later out resulted in immense relief when I was turned down.

There's also a lot of other topics going on here as well. One repeat concept is the discrepancy between the image of how you view a person versus the truth of what that person is. It deals with loneliness and suffering in a crowd. I so much identify with Ravyn as someone who has had to put a leash on "rant mode" for most of my life, often unsuccessfully. And I can scarily see my high school self making the same mistakes Ravyn is making with regard to Yuriko and seeing her as a static and simple character.

The comic has also touched a bit on mourning, something I suspect that is the reason why Ravyn latched so hard on to Lady Vengeance. It reminds me a bit of what Mandy Patinkin talks about his motivation for the "My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die." scene. About how he channeled his anger at the cancer killing his father onto the villain.

If I had any complaints, it would be the reference to The Hero's Journey because I find Campbell's theories increasingly fail the further you get from Ancient Greece and Rome, but I will admit that it is good device in this case to get Yuriko second-guessing herself.

On the Hero concept, btw, I am reminded again I need to write more Divine Blood. I had planned for Mao Semezou or one of her kids give their family opinion on the idea of a hero. IE: A hero isn't a person, it is an idealized image people create out of the stories they hear about a person's acts. As long as you realize that a Hero has it's uses.

I'm looking forward to see where this all goes.

When gritty anime protagonist, Lady Vengeance, is brought to the real world, she’ll learn there's more to life than darkness and revenge…and she'll find love with a kind-hearted cheerleader. (GL, WLW, queer, lgbtq, girl love, girlxgirl, yuri) Reading this will make your day better. #Slice of Life [GL] #webcomic #WEBTOON

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

All Men Have Limits - XI

Character: Dick Grayson x Reader x Bruce Wayne

Summary: A certain bat believes that Y/N is in way over her head, that she’s too naive to act in her best interest. So, whether she wants it or not, the vigilante family is going to help and protect her before she gets herself killed.

Word Count: 3,700+

Warnings: Mentions of past abuse

Previously on…

How did she let this happen?

Y/N had tried to push her short-lived romance with Bruce Wayne out of her mind for two years. And the moment she sees him again, for the first time since, it all went to hell. 

Why did she let him have her so easily? 

Why was he so hard to fight? 

His presence was difficult to ignore. And when he acted on their mutual feelings, Y/N knew she’d do just about anything for him.

But could two stubborn, emotionally distant, and nearly impossible people make it work?

But then Dick…Dick Grayson. 

Whenever Y/N thought of him, a warmth spread through her chest. He wasn’t scared of her. Instead of trying to break down her walls, he patiently waited for her to open a side door for him. He was patient and kind. Though he adopted Bruce’s flirtatious and charming ways, it was backed by substance in a way Bruce never bothered to follow up with.

Both men loved her differently.

But that didn’t mean one loved her more than the other either. 

–––––––––––

When Y/N reached the bottom of the cave, she found Dick training.

He was shirtless with a pair of shorts on, lifting himself up on the still rings.

She allowed herself to watch him for a moment. 

It was unreal the amount of strength he held to be able to move the way he was. He had clearly been modest when she asked if he could go to the olympics. 

Dick’s skin was shining, drenched in sweat.

How long had he been working out?

What she didn’t know was that Dick had been at it for hours, trying to work out his frustrations by making himself physically exhausted.

Finally Dick landed by doing an aerial dismount that consisted of so many twists and flips that Y/N just blinked in amazement. 

“Come to get your equipment?” Dick asked without looking at her. 

He was out of breath and clearly tired as he rubbed his face with a towel.

“Yeah,” she answered. “Jason’s bringing one of his cars to help me pack it up.”

She didn’t want to inconvenience anyone else in the family further. But she couldn’t exactly hire a TaskRabbit to help her pack up thousands of dollars worth of hacking equipment and ask them to drop it off at one of her many safe houses.

Plus, Jason owed her after the scene he cased at that infamous family dinner, and she made sure to tell him so.

Dick scoffed a bit. “So, you and Jason hang out now?”

Y/N smirked. “We started a club. We’re calling it The Club for the Parentally Abused and Recently Resurrected.”

Dick could help but let a smile slip.

“But I also came to talk to you.”

He walked past her now, and still hadn’t even looked at her since she arrived.

“You don’t owe me any explanation, Y/N. I got the message loud and clear.”

Y/N took in a deep breath. This was going to be hard. But she had to do it.

“When I was five years old, I left my stuffed animal at the park. I wouldn’t stop crying on the drive home. My parents started screaming at me to be quiet. Eventually they gave up, pulled over, and kicked me out of the car. It was 5 miles back to the apartment and it was 30 degrees out. Luckily, I knew my way home."

The story made Dick’s eyes snap up and he finally looked at her. And when he did, his expression was filled with rage and sympathy – rage towards her parents, but sympathy for Y/N. She should’ve never had to deal with such abuse.

Y/N shrugged. “And that’s one of the better moments.”

Dick took a step towards her. “Y/N…”

Her eyes were glued to the ground as she continued. “To this day, I jump anytime someone drops something. I can’t watch sports because the sound of men yelling causes panic attacks.” 

Then she finally found the courage to meet his gaze. 

“When I meet men, in my eyes, they’re all my father until they prove otherwise. And the reason I’m always waiting for the floor to drop out from underneath me... is because it always has.”

Dick waited. 

Y/N knew he was silently telling her he understood.

A couple tears managed to slip down her face, but she quickly wiped them away.

“Bruce was the first person I ever shared my past with. And now…now you’re the second.”

Dick still didn’t know what to say to her.

“I’m so sorry for hurting you, Dick. That was never ever my intention.”

Dick sighed, “I know.”

And he did. He did know.

Dick took in a deep breath, “I spent a big part of my life trying to stop myself from turning into him. I became terrified by the idea. I started disagreeing with his methods. He stopped looking like the perfect man to me. Eventually, I left Gotham because of it all.”

He shook his head in disappointment. “But I’m realizing those are the same things that make him the man that you love.”

His hand moved through his hair. “Now I’m starting to wonder…what if the only things you like about me is just everything that he made me be?”

Y/N couldn’t listen to any more of it. She couldn’t keep standing there and hear him tear himself down and compare himself to the man he had idolized for most of his life. Even if he saw Bruce as just human now, the man was still somewhat of a father figure to him.

“No,” she immediately stepped to Dick and clutched his face.

On instinct alone, he put his hands on top of hers, scared she’d stop touching him too quickly.

“Dick, listen to me. That’s not true. None of that’s true.”

“Don’t just tell me what you think I want to hear,” he begged.

“I’m not. I promise I’m not.”

Y/N took in a shaky breath.

By telling Dick what he needed to hear, Y/N was also exposing herself. It was scary for her. Talking to Dick about their complicated relationship was like speaking a different language compared to the way she used to communicate with Bruce. And she could admit that communication was often no communication at all.

“The things I love about you have nothing to do with Bruce,” her words were unafraid and sincere.

Dick blinked at the word ‘love.’

“You wear your heart on your sleeve, Dick. And I know you’re sometimes ashamed of it, because you’ve been convinced that you shouldn’t do that. But it’s…it’s so… different.”

She laughed lightly at herself, “Different than what I’m used to. Different than what I’ve ever expected from men.”

“I always know what’s going on in that heart of yours,” she continued. “There’s no guessing with you. I never doubt your feelings. Because you don’t hide anything.”

Y/N figured out what she was really trying to get at.

“Because you’re not scared.” She paused. “You’re not scared to love me, even when you think you don’t have a chance.”

“Do I have a chance?” He whispered.

Y/N finally dropped her hands from his face and stepped away from him. “I can’t – Dick, I can’t get between you two.”

He chuckled darkly. “It’s a little late for that.”

Y/N hid her face in her hands in desperation. “Please, don’t say that to me. Please.”

“He’s in love with you, too.” Dick declared.

“Dick, stop!”

“No, I won’t.” He snapped back. “Bruce is in love with you, Y/N. And you can’t keep lying and convincing yourself that he’s not.”

“It’s not that simple!”

But she could tell he was growing frustrated with her.

“Then tell me why you love him,” Dick surprised her by asking. “I need to know. I need to know why, because that’s the only way I’m going to be able to let you go.”

Y/N’s lips trembled as her eyes filled with tears again. She shook her head, “Please don’t make me.”

But when she looked up, his gaze was pleading.

So Y/N closed her eyes, the pressure of it made more tears escape and slide down her cheeks. She took in a deep breath, desperate for it to calm her down enough to even speak.

“That first night me and him shared...I hadn’t slept that soundly in years. And it was because I felt...safe. He’s always made me feel safe, like nothing could ever happen to me.” She shook her head and her eyes glazed over as she remembered the past. “I know I asked for this life. I’m always on the edge of being in danger, and I always have to be on the move. But it just felt like...like I could finally breathe.”

She gave Dick a sad smile. “And it’s been the same since I got here. I was just too stubborn to admit it.”

Then she shook her head. “I’m so tired of being scared. And I’m so tired of convincing myself that I don’t deserve to be loved.”

“Y/N,” Dick whispered her name as if he was begging. He moved to her and clutched her face and bowed until their foreheads touched. “I can keep you safe, too. I promise. I always will.”

“I know. Because you’re the only reason I’m alive right now.”  

“I love you, Y/N.” He murmured as if it was his most treasured secret. 

But they had both known that for awhile. 

“And I know you love Bruce…but I think you love me, too.”

Y/N hesitated before she whispered, “I do love you.”

Dick didn’t even try to stop himself from kissing her.

He pulled her hips to his, refusing to allow any space between their bodies. Her lips were wet with tears, but he didn’t care. This kiss needed to tell her everything he felt. This was his final statement. If his words couldn’t convince her, then maybe he could make her feel it all.

Jason Todd’s timing was like the rapture. 

His car screeched to a stop on the platform below them.

Except Dick didn’t give a damn if his brother saw them. He barely let Y/N pull away, but still tried to brush her tears away with his thumb as it grazed her cheek.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Jason yelled up with a cheeky grin.

Y/N still shifted out of Dick’s embrace.

To both the men’s surprise, she didn’t glare down at Jason.

“Come on. I’ll help you get all this into his truck,” Dick told her softly.

Their moment had ended.

And Dick couldn’t help but believe that he’d lost her.

———

Jason helped Y/N carry all her equipment in the storage unit she had directed him to.

The young man had the same strength as three professional movers and she was taking full advantage of it.

“Don’t you want all this crap with you?” Jason asked when he finally moved the final piece inside.

Y/N pulled down the garage door, slamming it closed, and activated multiple locks before facing him.

“Nope.”

Jason eyed her suspiciously. “Don’t tell me The Court traumatized you into retiring…”

“Of course not. But I am taking a break.”

He nodded, accepting the answer.

“Where to next?” He asked while nodding towards his truck.

“You don’t have to give me a ride. I think I want to walk.”

“Hell no. Bruce and Dick would kill me if I let you do that.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and slowly opened her jacket to show that she had one of her guns hidden away.

“You taught me well.”

Jason sighed heavily, “You wanna be alone. I get it.”

“Thank you for your help, Jason.”

He just shrugged, “I owed you.”

Y/N nodded and shoved her hands into the pockets of her jacket.

“You know what you’re doing?” Jason asked.

“Not really,” she admitted.

To her surprise, Jason's face was sympathetic. “Look, I know I give you a lot of shit. And none of it’s my business.”

He scratched the back of his neck.

“They both love you. OK? And I know they both go about showing it in completely different ways. But that’s just how they are. We’re all a fuckin’ mess.”

“I know,” Y/N mumbled as she looked at the ground, shoulders slumped.

“But I know what it’s like to be beaten down by life. So I just want to make sure you remember that you deserve it.”

“Deserve what?” Y/N asked, confused.

“To be loved.” Then his eyes turned the most serious she’d ever seen, and he pointed to her sternly. “Don’t let what happened in the past make you think otherwise.”

Jason already hated how preachy he sounded, so he gave a final nod and walked to the driver’s side of the truck.  

“Jason!” She called out.

He paused before he got into the driver’s seat.

“The same goes for you.” She smiled. “Remember, we’re in a club now.”

He smirked before giving her a final salute, and driving away.

———

Walking back to her safe house was therapeutic for Y/N.

Yeah, there were worse places than Wayne Manor to be kept on house arrest. But Y/N also couldn’t remember the last time she went on a walk like this. It did wonders to clear her head.

Though she was still paranoid and made sure to remain aware of her surroundings. And she probably looked over her shoulder too frequently to appear natural. But after everything she’d been through, her life still didn’t feel safe.

So, imagine Y/N’s panic when she walked into her safe house and immediately knew someone had been there.

She immediately pulled out her gun and started to do a perimeter check.

However, her panic slowly subsided when she saw a note on the kitchen counter.

Next to the note was what appeared to be a tracking device. Not as sophisticated as anything Y/N could make. But it was still rather advanced.

She walked closer to read it and instantly recognized Bruce’s handwriting.

“We had a deal,” was all he’d written.

When Y/N turned on the tracker, she quickly noted that the coordinates it gave matched the location of Wayne Manor.

A sad smile spread across her lips at the blinking light.

This was a strange way of expressing affection and trust, but that was Bruce.

There had been a part of her that didn’t believe Bruce Wayne would ever allow someone to always know where he was. But then again, he always found a way to surprise her.

Y/N looked around at her apartment.

It was cold and unwelcoming. The purpose was to provide a safe location and remain isolated. It was never meant to become a home – none of her safe houses were. Without her equipment humming, it felt even quieter than usual – unsettling even.

One thing was sure to Y/N…she couldn’t live this way anymore.

–––––––––––

Dick was fixing up his motorcycle in the garage at the manor.

He was planning on driving it across the country and wanted to make sure it was in good ship before he put that kind of mileage on it.

His attention shifted away from it when his phone lit up and vibrated from a message.

To Dick’s surprise, he read Jason’s name.

“You should talk to her. I think she’s really going through it right now,” was all his younger brother texted.

Dick sighed in frustration and tossed his phone away a little too roughly.

He rubbed his face. 

He’d been suffering from a headache every day since he last saw Y/N. 

Maybe it was his punishment for submitting so easily.

Dick stood up from kneeling next to his motorcycle.

No, he wasn’t going to talk to Y/N.

But he was going to talk to Bruce.

While Dick had been distracting himself with his upcoming escape back to the Titans, Bruce drowned himself in new cases. He’d extended his patrolling hours so long that he barely had time to sleep and eat. Half the time, he didn’t even bring Damian along with him. 

Dick knew he would find Bruce in the cave, seeing as he hadn’t left it in days.

Bruce didn’t turn away from his research even though he heard Dick’s entrance.

But that didn’t slow Dick down as he marched to him.

“Are you really going to do this?” Dick shot.

He didn’t need to elaborate, they both knew what he was talking about.  

“We’re not having this discussion,” Bruce tried to shut it down without even looking at him.

“Nope. That’s not going to work anymore.” Dick reached out and pressed a button, turning all of the screens blank. “We’re talking about this whether you want to or not!” Dick snapped.

Bruce was clearly irritated. Not only did he finally acknowledge Dick and meet his gaze, but he also stood from the chair and sized him up.

Dick’s jaw clenched before he began. “I know you’d protect her with your life. But are you going to protect her from Bruce Wayne?”

The question was brutal, but necessary.

Dick wasn’t holding back any longer.

“Because we didn’t have any choice. We changed our expectations and adapted. But Y/N? She shouldn’t have to do that. So you’re either all in or you need to let go.”

The ‘we’ was Dick and his brothers, but Bruce didn’t need him to clarify.

Dick never had any intention of being cruel. But he had to be blunt with Bruce. And Dick wasn’t going to watch as he put Y/N through what he and his brothers had to in the past. 

She would bend and fold herself for Bruce, lowering her expectations and latching onto what little he gave her, putting it all on a pedestal and giving it more meaning than it deserved.

“If you promise to actually commit to someone for the first time in your life and put them before Batman, I’ll walk away. I’ll do it for you. And I’ll do it for her.” The fire in his eyes was blazing. “But I can’t sit back and watch as you treat her like shit. She deserves better than that. And you know it.”

There wasn’t a single lie in what Dick said. 

Over the years, Dick was always the most frustrated with Bruce’s lack of emotional competence. Jason was angry at Bruce for far more than just that. Tim didn’t seem to have many thoughts on it. And Damian didn’t see it as a problem, which was an entirely different issue.

But if it weren’t for Dick, Bruce would be far worse – even though that seemed rather impossible.

“Do you love her?” Bruce asked Dick.

He blinked at the question, taken off guard by how intimate it felt coming from Bruce.

“Yes,” Dick answered, leaving no room for doubt.

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?” Dick glared at him.

But Dick still jumped right into it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Y/N is one of the smartest people I’ve ever met in my life. She makes me laugh – even when I know her sarcasm and humor are hiding darkness. She’s selfless – more selfless than all of us. And she cares about everyone, even when they don’t deserve it. She dedicated her life to helping people and, until recently, she was fine doing it all by herself. ”

Bruce couldn’t help but smirk darkly at Dick’s list and crossed his arms, “You forgot to mention how beautiful she is.”

“Yeah. Well… anyone with eyes knows that,” Dick rumbled.

Bruce was quiet, clearly deep in thought.

What was going on in that head of his?

“She left Gotham,” Bruce finally stated.

Dick’s eyes widened. “Left?”

“Yesterday.”

“Yesterday? So...what? You don’t know where she is or you’re not going after her?” Dick snapped.

“I know where she is.”

Dick’s face dropped. “You’re not going after her,” he muttered in disbelief.

Bruce didn’t have to say anything to confirm Dick’s suspicions.

“You’re an asshole and a fool, Bruce.”

“I’m doing the best thing for her,” he countered.

“That’s what you think. But how will she feel?” Dick shook his head in disgust. “But you never ask yourself those questions, do you, Bruce? You never consider other people’s feelings.”

“I promised to always put Gotham first, Dick.”

“Oh, come on, Bruce!” Dick groaned. “You made that promise – what? – 20 years ago? Don’t try to tell me that things haven’t change.”

“You think she wants to stay in this mansion by herself, wondering if I’m going to come back alive?” Bruce finally fought back. “You think she deserves a man who will always put her second?”

“Then don’t, Bruce! Don’t put her second! She chose you! Don’t make her regret it!”

But Dick had enough and he also wanted the final word.

So with that, he stormed out of the cave, leaving Bruce alone again.

Dick was about to go to his room and finish packing up his things to leave when Alfred called his name.

“This arrived for you,” Alfred informed him politely as he offered him an envelope.

Dick’s heart beat faster as he grabbed the letter, somehow already knowing it was from Y/N.

He ripped it open without hesitation, not bothering to wait for the privacy of his room to read it.

Dick,

We both know I’m absolute shit at opening up. But I am hoping that maybe writing it all down will be easier. I figured it’s worth a try. 

I’m sorry for the way things happened. I hope you believe me when I say that I never meant to hurt the two of you.

It recently occurred to me that I haven’t experienced much of life.

I went from living in an abusive household, to living on the streets, to using all of my energy trying to bring down the corrupt. I’ve spent so much of my life either running or fighting that I realized I don’t actually know how to just simply…live.  

So...

By the time you get this, I will have left Gotham. I think it’s about time I stop running and start learning who I am when I stand still. 

I don’t expect you to forgive me for pushing and pulling you.

But I hope you believe me when I say I love you. I really do, Dick Grayson. 

And the truth is, you scared the shit out of me. But I also know you deserve someone more than just me. And the idea of you realizing that at any moment, only to leave me, was too heartbreaking to face.

I hope this isn’t goodbye forever. 

“When did this arrive?” Dick asked almost panicked.

“Just this morning, Master Dick.” Alfred answered.

“Thanks, Alfred.”

He took a few steps toward the stairs before Alfred called out, “Master Dick?”

“Yeah?”

“It feels rather important to emphasize that there was only one letter…”

Dick’s gaze flickered to where the cave entrance was, the place they both knew where Bruce was currently hiding. 

Then he looked back to Alfred, showing that he understood what he was trying to silently tell him.

Y/N didn’t write a letter to Bruce.

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

Part 12 – The End

I’m sorry to tell you that there is only one more part after this. 

So please please please let me know what you think. Write me a book report. Write me a novel. 

A/N: The scene between Bruce and Dick was inspired by two things:

This conversation from the comics. 

And this scene from Sabrina. Obviously this is a much more comical take, but I’ve seen this movie probably 100 times and it holds a similar meaning to this story. 

[resusheart]

After surgery (part two)

I raced to cubicle number three once again, her lips and fingernails had a bluish color, I watched her move her chest desperately, using all accessory muscles to breath, but she just couldn’t, the team had already lowered her bed to be totally flat, had taken the pillow from under her head and after tilting her head back, placed the ambu bag over her mouth and nose. She was still awake and I could not sedate her enough because of her weakened state. We had to aspirate her first. After pressing the ambu bag five times, I asked for the suction tube and slid it deep into her lungs, she was shaking as I did this, slowly losing consciousness. Her heartrate was shooting straight up, something I definitely didn’t want to happen to her recently sutured heart. Her blood pressure tanked while I was suctioning. Shit!  I gave the order to start chest compressions. This was going to be a mess. Every time her chest sunk from the pressure, her belly popped out. One could even hear the sound of both sides of the sternum rubbing against each other, and I am sure I heard a rib pop during the maneuvers.

The resident was trying to intubate her and failed, once, then twice, blood was coming out of her mouth so the nurse suctioned her again. Her eyes, open, staring into nothing, pupils sluggish, but I had to do something, this was not over yet. I asked for a pause to feel pulses, but even with chest compressions they were mostly absent. I had to crack her chest and at the same time, get her airway taken care of. So we started doing both things at the same time. While team B was performing an emergency cricothyrotomy to get a breathing tube in, we (team A) were spraying her chest with betadine to open her up. I knew something was wrong inside the cavity because her blood pressure couldn’t hold. The clock was ticking and I had to find out what it was and do it fast.

Her chest was sterile, I couldn’t open her up through her sternum because I had wired it shut just a few days earlier and it would take too long to go in that way, so I placed the scalpel on the fifth intercostal space and made a long incision. I quickly placed the rib spreader and was immediately splattered with blood that had accumulated inside the chest. Blood products were already being warmed and placed in the rapid infuser. I used suction and surgical gauze to try to clear the space so I would be able to see the bleeding site.

It was crazy and things happened quickly. The patient now had a breathing tube sticking out of her neck, two new lines had already been placed and we had asked the OR to be ready for us. The team started the pumps with blood units and I put my whole hand inside her chest. With my fingers, I reached to feel her barely beating heart to position my hand correctly and began compressing it firmly. While doing so, I felt the leak that was causing all these problems. Every time I pumped the heart, blood poured out of one of the veins that fed it directly. I asked for a clamp and immediately closed the hole. I kept massaging the heart internally, sterile drapes wrapped around my arm as the team tried to cover the wound (with my arm still in it) getting ready for transport to the OR. They released the brakes of the bed and we started rolling. I was walking, but my only focus was compressing the heart and getting enough blood flow to avoid any brain damage, if possible, while we got to surgery and I could fix her heart once more. When we got to the operating room, a junior surgeon took over the internal massage while I went to wash all over again and change my clothes. I was practically drenched in blood, so I was looking forward to getting on some clean, warm surgical scrubs. In the meantime, the junior surgeons were placing the patient in a proper position to continue the surgery and placed the lines to bypass the heart and divert the blood flow to the heart-lung machine. I quickly positioned myself in a comfortable position to start the surgery, with the machine now humming. I injected the extremely cold paralyzing agent straight into the heart muscle and began the surgery. Her poor mangled heart has gone through a lot. I was very careful, fixed the tear in the vein and checked that the heart valves had not been dislodged in all the resus efforts.

So now, all patched up, it was time to get that heart beating again. Because blood flow to the brain had been reduced for a long time we were going to do things differently this time. We were going to keep her body colder than average. We didn’t start the process of heating up her body, the fluids that we were introducing were not warmed up. If she was to have a chance at a normal life, I would have to keep her in induced hypothermia for at least 48 hours.

But first, I had to get her heart beating again. With sutures placed in the artery and vein and the removal of the clamps, blood began flowing back into her heart. It didn’t move at all. It had sustained injuries during CPR and was not looking great. It was not swollen yet and that is what I would try to avoid by cooling her down. I massaged it once more, as I had done hours before, but this time, it was colder and not surrounded by a pool of blood. I was hoping to get a small hear beat. I was begging in my head: “Come on, give me something to work with!” But the heart muscle stood still. I injected epi followed by amiodarone and massaged it once more for a while. It began moving a bit. I injected more epinephrine and hoped her heart would pick up the beat. Finally, it began quivering, I waited for it to find a rhythm on its own, but it didn’t, so I asked for the internal paddles, I placed them carefully around the heart and asked for 20 joules. The shock made the heart jump and the rest of her body contract gently but after a pause, her heart kept beating erratically, I asked for 30 joules and another dose of epi. The shock was more visible this time, her whole body shook in a single movement and then stood still. I couldn’t get a regular rhythm though. I decided to max out the epi and another dose of amiodarone before giving it another shock with the maximum dose acceptable for internal paddles, 40 joules. I held my breath and shocked her again. This time her body visibly jumped a bit with the shock. I sighed with relief when her heart began beating softly at a regular rhythm. She was OK…. for now. The junior surgeon proceeded to close the chest and I watched the EKG closely, her heart was beating at a steady pace but the blood output was small. If she didn’t improve we would have to consider using ECMO, but right now my main concern was keeping her at 30° Celsius (86°F) to prevent as much inflammation as possible in her heart and brain. I was trying to give her the best chance to live, but I knew, that right now, her chances of survival without serious brain injury were around 1%. We just had to wait and hope. I thanked everyone and left the room. After I had finished my notes I went into her ICU cubicle. She had a cold air blanket covering her whole naked, mangled body. New electrodes had been attached to her chest, running a permanent EKG, her brain function was also monitored through electrodes placed in her forehead under the cold water helmet the ICU team had placed on her head. Her core temperature was being monitored intravenously. She was heavily sedated. I was just hoping she would make it through the next 12 hours. Then I glanced at the window and realized it was dawn already. I thanked the teams that had worked the code hours before and left the hospital to get some sleep back home. While in the car, I kept remembering her pale skin, cold to the touch, her bluish lips and all the equipment surrounding her that always reminded me of old sci-fi movies. She was now my sleeping beauty, resting in her chilly sleep. And we had to wait and find out, first if she would survive, then, if she would have neurological deficits and what they would be. But, for now, we both needed to rest. I took the coastal highway to my apartment taking in the beautiful views, got home, changed into my most comfortable sweatpants and rested for a few hours, then went to the gym and took a dip in the pool. I had not heard anything from the hospital. No news is good news. I would go back in the evening to check on her again. I trusted the ICU team completely, so I ate a snack, relaxed and enjoyed the rest of the afternoon

[thevampiresiren]

Helping Yoongi Shave

Word Count: 2.5K

Genre: Fluff, Humor

WARNINGS: Soft!Yoongi, Tooth Aching Fluff, Cursing, Slight Suggestive Themes (nothing major, just some suggestive flirting and a little talk of sex. Yoongi also puts his hands on the reader's butt)

Summary: Yoongi needs to shave, but he's too tired to do it himself. So he teaches you how to shave him.

A/n: So… This is the very first Fanfic that I wrote and I’m not going to lie; I was a very nervous about posting it until one of my friends read it for me and loved it. I’m not sure if I’ll be doing this stuff as a part of my blog ALL the time, but if I can think of anything and if it comes out good; I’ll definitely post it.  Also I just REALLY wanted to do a Yoongi shaving fanfic because I think helping your significant other shave is SO intimate and involves a lot of trust. I hope you guys like it!

I was passed out on the couch in the living room when I woke up to the sound of keys jingling outside the apartment door. As Holly got up from laying next to my feet, I picked up my phone and saw that it was around 1:30 am. As the door opened, I heard the brown toy poodle bark happily while he was spanning around in a circle while footsteps stopped to where he was. "Shhh, Holly. You're gonna wake Mom up." My boyfriend whispered petting the fluffy canine.

"Too late, she's awake." I yawned while stretching with a smile on my face. Yoongi looked up from petting Holly.

"I'm sorry, Jagiya. I thought you were in bed." Yoongi said while taking his shoes off, setting his work bag down, and walking over to me. I smiled as he tilted my chin up to gently peck my lips. When he pulled away, he laughed loudly. "What?" I asked.

"Nice bed head, babe". He said smirking while nodding at me. I ran my my finger through hair and sighed. "Hey, don't be upset. It's cute." He said standing up and kissing my check. I felt a slight roughness on my skin once he made contact. I look at his upper lip and chin, smirking.

"Nice stubble, babe." I copied. He touched his face and groaned. "Don't be upset. Its cute." I mocked. Yoongi smiled.

"I'm gonna go get changed. I'm too tired to shave tonight." He said yawning while walking to our bedroom. Holly and I followed not far behind and he laid down in his little bed starting to doze off again knowing his dad was home. I walked in and saw that Yoongi had put his glasses on and changed into his black sweatpants that hung loosly on his hips and was topless. He was by no means the buffest man in world, nor did he have majorly defined abs; but he was toned enough that you could see his pecs, and when the light hit right at the correct angel; his faint abs from him most recently working out would show up. He was perfect. His arm muscles slightly moved as he threw his clothes into hamper. I was too busy admiring him before he broke me from trance. "You okay over there? If I didn't know any better I'd get the feeling you're checking me out." He said with a cocky smirk. I smiled and pushed myself off the door frame I was leaning on.

"Nah, I think your hideous and by no means attractive. And you do it to me all the time." I said jokingly.

"Your loud noises from me pinning you down two nights ago and those dark marks say otherwise, baby girl". He said smirking. I blushed while trying to cover the "love marks" on my neck and where my shoulders met.

"Shut up and let me enjoy my hot boyfriend's body when we aren't fucking." I said laughing. Yoongi let out chuckle before he went off to the master bathroom to brush his teeth. I changed out of my day clothes into nothing but his white Fear of God shirt that hit my mid thighs and put my hair in a high ponytail.

"Aish! Its so fucking bad" Yoongi groaned loudly. I looked in and saw him examining his facial hair, clearly upset with how fast it was growing. "Yoon, just shave it tomorrow before you go to work. You need sleep." I said walking over to him. I knew he was beyong exhausted by how irritated he sounded and by the slight bags under his eyes. It was comeback season and I knew he was over working himself a bit. He was eating healthy and was taking care of himself like he has been, but I still worried about him. "I can't, we have an interview in the morning and we have dance practice. Plus, I need to finish up a song in the home studio once I wake up." He said leaning his head against the mirror pouting; his raven bangs falling and covering his eyes. I wrapped my arms around his bare torso and leaned my cheek on his broad shoulder making him shiver at the contact. "What if I do it for you?" I said quietly.

"My work?"

"No, dumbass." I said pulling away laughing while he turned around. "I mean shave your face." I said poking his chubby cheeks and kissing his pout.

"You sure you're not to tired to do that for me?"

"I wouldn't be offering if I was."

"Yes you would, because I'd do it too for you."

"I've already gotten at least 4 hours of sleep. You've been up since 6 am. I have more energy and I don't want you stressing out over it. Let me do it, baby. Let me take care of you." I said seriously.

"God, I can't wait to make you my wife." He said sighing. I laughed loudly "Who said I would say yes if your proposed?".

"We've talked about it and you were weak at the knees when I told you I would give you as many kids as you want and I would find a way to make it work for you, the kids, and music. Plus, you let me take your v-card. You've already said yes based on that like I did." Yoongi said laughing.

I blushed. "Just go get your damn razor and everything else." I said crossing my arms over my chest. Yoongi turned around and opened the medicine cabinet to pull out his shaving cream, aftershave, and the black leather case that he kept his razor in. He set everything in front of the sink and scooted out of the way for me to work. I opened up the case and saw exactly what type of razor it was. Anxiety shivered through my body as I pulled the razor out carefully. I just came to the realization that I had never actually SEEN his razor. He usually was using it on tour or even over at the dorm with the rest of the guys. Whenever he did shave here, it was in the shower.

"Yoongs..."

"Yeah?"

"This is a straight razor...". I said quietly.

"I know. It gets closer to my skin and the shave lasts longer. It works better for me than a normal one.". I carefully opened the blade far away from either of us at the risk of us getting cut. I stared at it and my anxiety just continued to grow. These were dangerous and I'd never used one before.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Yoongi said looking at me concerned while reaching out and gently rubbing my shoulder.

"I'm scared I'm going to pull a Thomas Brown Hewitt and slit your throat while I shave you. I can't afford a lawsuit as big as you." I said casually as I carefully set the razor down after I slowly put the blade back. Yoongi busted out laughing loudly at my comment.

"You'll do fine, Kitten." He said calmly after he collected himself. "I'll show you how to use it on yourself first if that'll make you more comfortable.". I thought for a moment and nodded my head agreeing. Yoongi grabbed the shaving cream and turned the water on so it was hot but not scolding. "Fuck." Yoongi said looking down, his deep raspy voice just slightly about a whisper as he just noticed what I was wearing. I smirked at him with a face that said "really?" .

"Sorry, you just look really fucking cute." He said blushing. Yoongi showed me how to put the cream on my legs which was no different than I normally do. He then grabbed the razor, instructing me to put my hand where his was. He lightly wrapped his large hand around my wrist, and started.

"Okay, so the trick is to go with the grain of hair; never against it. It can cause bumps and ingrown hairs. Also keep your hand at a 30-degree angle. Anything more will cut yourself. Make sure the skin is always taught as well. And go slow and gentle. Like this.". Yoongi began helping me shave where my ankle was and guiding me with the right amount of pressure. After a few more strokes of him helping me, I had enough confidence to do it on my own. It wasn't as hard or scary as I thought. After 20 minutes, I had both of my legs shaved and set the blade down on the sink. I ran my hands down my legs and noticed how smoother my legs were. I had no cuts, bumps, or anything like I normally would. "I DID IT YOONGI! I DIDN'T KILL MYSELF!". I yelled extremely happy that I didn't have to go to the ER, wrapping my arms around Yoongi's neck . He laughed at how excited I was.

"I told you that you could do it. Are you ready to try it on me now?" He said picking the blade back up. I smiled and told him to sit down on the counter of the bathroom sink. Once he was sat down and his glasses were off, I put the water on and shaving cream on his face. Just when I had turned to grab the razor; I felt a large warm hand on my wrist. "Um.. wait a second."

While I went to look over at Yoongi; I felt a soft, light, pressure on my left cheek followed by a muffled sound. I looked between my face and part of my hair covered in white, to Yoongi's right hand also covered in white and the right side of his face showing his skin underneath. It took me a second to get over my shock before I began processing what had just happened. "MIN YOONGI." I yelled, waking Holly up, making him barm from the disturbance of his sleep before going back to bed. Yoongi busted out in a full-on laugh attack causing him to almost fall off the sink before catching himself. As I washed the shaving cream off of me, I looked annoyed but also amused at him being playful. "I want a divorce already." I said laughing with him. Once we both settled down and Yoongi had his face covered in shaving cream again; I grabbed the razor and was about to start shaving him when my anxiety started getting the better of my again. Yoongi sensed my anxiety sparking and grabbed my hand that wasn't holding the razor.

"Hey." Yoongi said while he looked up at me lovingly, running his long fingers over mine soothingly. "I trust you okay. I know you won't hurt me." He said before kissing my knuckles, careful not to get the shaving cream on my hand. I nodded smiling and slowly started shaving him. Several minutes in shaving him, while I was concentrating, I felt Yoongi's hands reach behind me to my upper thighs, pulling me closer. He gently started rubbing soothing circles on them and messaging my ass.

"Keep it PG, Min. I have weapon and I'm not afraid to use it." I said jokingly making him chuckle.

"You know what you in my clothes do to me." He said with a tired smirk. His dark lashes hit his cheekbones as he relaxed under my touch. I smiled at a how serene he looked, and it took everything in me not to kiss him. Once I was done, I rubbed my nose against his causing him to open one eye and smile. I grabbed the washcloth and gently cleaned whatever was left of his shaving gel. I grabbed his Invictus aftershave and put some on his face.

"Okay, I'm think done." I said proud of myself. Yoongi put his glasses back on and grabbed the handheld mirror I had held out to him and examined his face closely. A huge smile hit his lips and he wrapped his strong arms around my shoulders and pulled me to his broad chest. "You did amazing Jagi. Thank you." He said as he muzzled his face into my neck.

"You're welcome, Yoons." I said tiredly as I ran my fingers through his soft locks, laying my head on top of his. The faint smell of his aftershave along with the smell of him in general hitting my nose made me feel tired as I gently messaged his head. Yoongi hummed quietly into my neck before placing chaste lazy kissing to my neck, chest, below my ear lobe, cheeks, temple, nose, and finally my lips.

"I love soft, cuddly Yoongi." I said giggling. Yoongi looked at me with a soft smile, our noses touching.

"I thought you loved rough, dominate Yoongi?" He said rubbing our noses together.

"Ehh, I like all sides. I'm an easy woman to please." I said looking at him smiling before telling him it was time for us to go to bed. He yawned while nodding and we headed to our bed, setting his glasses down on the nightstand. He pulled me close, so my head was laying on his chest and placed his hand on the side of my face. Our centimeters away from each other he smiled and looked into my eyes with his full of love, care, warmth, and passion. "I love you so much, Jagi." He said tired while stroking my cheek bone. I leaned it connected my lips to his in a sweet but passionate kiss. We both pulled away with giant smiles on our faces. I responded looking tiredly into his eyes. "I love you too, Yoongi.". I layed my head on my pillow, my face buried in his neck breathing in his scent while he buried his in my hair, arms wrapped tightly around me. "I can't believe you smashed me in the face with shaving cream." I said quietly.

"That's what you get for staring at me and then parading around our bedroom in my shirt and your lace panties you brat.". He responded letting out and airy chuckle. I smiled before closing my eyes and falling asleep to his light breathing.

[ollyarchive]

Olly Alexander Is Done With Shame

Like the character he plays in “It’s a Sin,” the actor and singer struggled with being gay. Now, he tells the world everything.

By Anna Leszkiewicz

Feb. 19, 2021Updated 9:22 a.m. ET

LONDON — When Olly Alexander burst into tears shooting a scene of “It’s a Sin,” no one was very surprised.

Making the show, which came to HBO Max on Thursday and follows a group of friends embracing the gay culture of ’80s London under the shadow of AIDS, was emotional for many of the cast and crew — and Alexander is as comfortable showing his vulnerabilities as the character he plays, Ritchie, is at deflecting them.

“I was a complete mess after the first take,” Alexander, 30, said in a recent video interview. “I was sobbing.” Peter Hoar, the director of “It’s a Sin,” paused filming.

The scene in question, which comes after Ritchie and his friends are arrested protesting the British government’s inaction on AIDS, is one of many in the show that explore how the epidemic devastated gay men’s lives.

When we meet Ritchie, he is an impishly confident but naïve 18-year-old who has just moved to London, with dreams of becoming an actor. Alexander also moved to the capital from rural England at 18 and scored his first movie role, but today he is better known as the lead singer of the band Years & Years. “It’s a Sin” is his first acting gig in six years.

Years & Years’s music often explores the relationship between desire and shame, and is heavily influenced by ’80s bands like Pet Shop Boys. (“It’s a Sin” takes its title from that group’s song of the same name.) So when Alexander heard Russell T Davies, the show’s creator, was interested in him for the lead role, the opportunity “made poetic sense,” Alexander said.

In an interview, Davies said the show was “cast gay as gay, which is my policy.” For Ritchie, he added, he wanted an out actor who already had a big profile in Britain. “That almost narrows it down to a field of one,” he said. “It was the simplest audition of my life.”

Alexander’s arch performance as Ritchie suggests that the character’s ambition and bravado are reactions to fear and self-loathing. “I realized straight away, ‘Oh, I know who Ritchie is,’” Alexander said. “He’s trying to get onstage and shine and dazzle: I’ve done that.”

But whereas Ritchie masks his vulnerabilities, Alexander has spoken frankly in interviews and onstage with the band about his experiences of bulimia, anxiety, self-harm and depression.

“I’ve said just everything about myself,” he said. “My life is kind of out there now.”

Alexander grew up in Gloucestershire, in western England, where his mother founded a local music festival. His father, an aspiring musician, worked in amusement parks.

It was a creative household, Alexander said, but his father had mental health problems and substance abuse issues that led to a difficult atmosphere at home. When he was 14, his parents separated; he’d only seen his father a handful of times since, he said.

School was an even more fraught environment, and Alexander experienced homophobic bullying from age 9. “I had long blond hair, and I acted quite feminine,” he said. “That made me a target. And kids can be so cruel.”

As Alexander recalled his younger self, he started to cry. It took many years until he could look back at the child he was with compassion, he said. “But that’s the biggest thing I’ve tried to do,” he added. The impact of his childhood is something he’s still processing in weekly therapy, he said.

When Alexander’s high school classmates went to college, he moved to East London and became a jobbing actor while babysitting and waiting tables. A pale, skinny teenager with a nest of tight curls, he landed roles as the tuberculosis-ridden younger brother of Ben Whishaw’s Keats in the film “Bright Star,” and an anguished drug user in Gaspar Noé’s trippy art movie “Enter the Void.”

Alexander had been living in London for a couple of years when he met his Years & Years bandmates, Mikey Goldsworthy and Emre Türkmen. Though they started out making high-minded, Radiohead-inspired electronic music, Alexander pushed the band toward synth-pop, with big, melodramatic choruses full of longing.

In 2015, the band’s exhilarating but anguished song “King” — about the strange thrill of being treated badly in a relationship — reached No. 1 on the British singles chart, and its debut album, “Communion,” topped the album charts, too.

“His songs are his life,” said the producer Mark Ralph, who has worked with Years & Years from the band’s earliest days “If you want to know what’s gone on in Olly’s life, then you just read all his lyrics.”

“Love takes its toll on me,” Alexander sings in “Sanctify,” a song about a secret liaison with a straight man. “And I won’t, and I won’t, and I won’t be ashamed.”

When the band performed the song at the Glastonbury Festival in 2016, soon after the shooting at the Pulse nightclub in Orlando, Fla., a rainbow-clad Alexander told the crowd, “I’m here, I’m queer, and, yes, sometimes I’m afraid.” But, he added, “I am never ashamed, because I am proud of who I am.”

The speech caught the interest of TV producers, and, in 2017, he fronted a BBC documentary called “Olly Alexander: Growing Up Gay.” In it, he returns to his family home and leafs through teenage diaries full of references to bulimia and self-harm. On camera, he tells his mother about the bullying at school for the first time: Through tears, they discuss how it led him to mental health problems in his teenage years.

“It’s a lot to ask someone to bare their soul on national television,” said Vicki Cooper, the TV movie’s director. “But those difficult conversations created the best moments in the film.”

That documentary, and Alexander’s openness about his own mental health, mean he gets a lot of messages on social media from fans who are struggling themselves. He used to try to respond to them, he said, but the quantity has become impossible to keep up with.

Through those messages, though, Alexander had “seen a really emotionally vulnerable side to a lot of people,” he said. “That’s a precious thing, actually.”

Alexander had also been humbled by the positive response to “It’s a Sin” in Britain, he said. The show broke records for the streaming service All4, where it aired, with 6.5 million streams.

“It’s a Sin” first appeared on All4 during National H.I.V. Testing Week; on social media, the show’s cast encouraged viewers to get tested. The Terrence Higgins Trust, an H.I.V. nonprofit, said that the number of people taking tests through their service had almost quadrupled in the weeks afterward.

“People living with H.I.V. now can live normal, healthy lives: It’s so important to get that message out,” Alexander said, adding that treatments for the virus had transformed since the ’80s. “I’m really grateful that these conversations are happening, because, honestly, lots of people really didn’t know what was going on in this period of history. They’re shocked to learn about it now.”

That era is also having an influence on Alexander’s music. He is currently recording new material with Years & Years, inspired by the ’80s dance anthems of the “It’s a Sin” soundtrack and beyond: Donna Summer, New Order, Pet Shop Boys.

“During the pandemic, I wanted to listen to super upbeat club music that made me dance around,” he said. “I found myself wanting to create the fantasy and the energy that I haven’t necessarily been experiencing.”

As well as working on new music, Alexander said he had spent the lockdowns in England watching “Real Housewives” episodes, and playing Animal Crossing. “I used to be so, so driven,” he said, but now he was putting less pressure on himself.

He was happy, he added, to think back on what he’d already achieved, and how much has changed since he was a little boy who wished he wasn’t gay.

“I’ve kept a diary since I was 13 years old,” he said. “Sometimes I look at it and think I can tell this kid: ‘You’re going to do amazing things. You’re going to get to where you are now. It’s OK. You got this.’”

Hugo Yangüela contributed additional camera operating for photographs.

[korra-the-red-lion]

Unnatural Affairs. Chapter 20: What Do We Do Now?

(Ally + Lyn + Michael)

Ally.

It doesn’t make sense to me.

No matter how many times I’ve stared at the picture, it’s just not connecting. How could our professor be the one in the picture when he was alive and well, torturing us with his love for drama? It was like my brain had stopped working, because there were no theories or thoughts running through it for once. I was at a loss for words.

We ended up just going back to our rooms after that bomb was dropped, because what else could we do? We needed answers from someone who could actually give us something to work with. Our best option was to see if Dahlia would be able to tell us anything, or maybe even the lady that Michael’s been speaking to at the Dreaming Mythic.

As I unlocked the door to my room, Sarah was still up, working away at something on her laptop. She glanced my way when I walked in, looking away with an embarrassed flush. At this point, I was used to her just ignoring me, even though it still stung. Controlling the urge to sigh, I dropped my schoolbag and purse onto the floor, then kicked my boots off. I was ready to hit the bed right there and then when I heard Sarah clear her throat.

“Hey…” she said carefully, glancing my way.

“Hey,” I said just as cautiously.

“So, like…um,” Sarah rubbed her hands together awkwardly. “I thought about you told me… and like, well, it is a little hard to believe but I’ve decided something. I’m not going to like, ruin a friendship I have with you because of that.” She sat on the edge of the bed now, her eyes filled with tears. “I’ve been a bad friend, Ally. I hope you can like, forgive me for taking so long to realize that. I totally understand if you like, never want to talk to me again. I just wanted to let you know that I like, really miss you and know how badly I messed up.”

My own eyes had filled with tears and now they were spilling out. They left hot trails on my cheeks as I nodded. “I forgive you.”

Sarah sobbed as she got up. I got up too and we hugged each other tightly. I couldn’t believe that this was happening. I honestly thought that this was over, that we were never going to talk to each other again. I’ve lost so many people in my life to this, so the fact that I had so many friends I had who accepted me was so startling beautiful.

We pulled away and Sarah put her hands on my shoulders, looking into my eyes. “Ally, you have to, like, promise me that you’ll be more careful, though. Those bruises…they were horrible.”

“I’m trying to be,” I sniffled. “It’s not like I’m looking for danger, danger just comes looking for me.”

Sarah giggled wetly. “Danger usually follows trouble. So, if you’re like, looking for trouble, danger is sure to be there too.”

“Okay, I’ll try a little bit harder.” I smiled softly at her, placing my hands on hers. “Now, sorry, but I really need sleep. I’m about to pass out on my feet.”

“Please don’t.”

Tonight, as I slipped under the covers, my heart felt a little bit lighter, even if my head was full of uncontrolled thoughts.

XXX

Drama was the most awkward class the next time I was in it.

I sat in between Mags and Michael, as Professor Kinkly was wrapping up his lecture for the day. Exams were only a few short weeks away, so he wanted to make sure he was cramming all his last-minute crap in now. I wasn’t listening to a word he was saying as my eyes were focused solely on the clock, watching the seconds tick away. Class seemed like it was never going to end.

“…and I’m handing back those papers you all wrote for me,” said Kinkly as his final remarks before the end. I sat up a little straighter when I realized what was going on.

He started calling names so people would go up front and grab them. When my name was called, I stiffened for a second before scooting out of my seat, slipping past Michael as I did. When I walked up to him, all I could see was the face in the photograph. He barely looked any older now. How was that even possible?

“Good job, Alexandra,” he said as he handed back my paper. “It was a very interesting read.”

“Thank you,” I said stiffly. I’m not sure why, but suddenly I really didn’t like that he had my full name. There was a deep discomfort settling in my stomach at the thought. I quickly retreated back to where my bag was and stuffed the paper inside.

“Is everything okay?” Mags asked as they glanced at the grade scrawled on the back of their paper.

I nodded carefully, making sure to look more relaxed. “Just ready to get out of here, I’m starving.”

“Amen to that.”

Eventually Michael got up to get his paper. I’m pretty sure he was actually the last person in class to get his paper. Poor guy and his unfortunate placing in the alphabet. Together, we scampered out of there, the two of us sparing one last glance at our professor. I noticed with a jolt that he was watching us leave, the lens of his glasses reflecting funny, so we could barely make out his eyes. It was very creepy.

My head was in the clouds as we walked across campus, not really focusing on the conversation at hand. We passed by Dahlia’s tree, and I found myself looking for the ghost, only to see she wasn’t showing herself right now. I wondered where they went, if they couldn’t go back to the spirit world or whatever.

We sat down in the meal hall, and I could practically feel the tension in the air. Students were nervously catching up to last minute work that needed to be submitted. Others were discussing final papers or final exams. Some of the students even were discussing the big football game that our team was playing in this week. It was surprising, considering how bad they were last year. They really turned things around, I guess. Overall, there was just a sense of unease filling the room today.

Maybe it was just my over heighted senses, but I was feeling a lot more spiritual presence as well. I’ve suspected for a while now that there was something going on…oh. Oh. OH.

My eyes widen as the thought hit me like a wrecking ball. Oozing walls. Doors locking themselves. People had reported many times that something bizarre or unexplained happened each time there had been a murder. I was sensing stronger spiritual presence, even more so than usual. None of the students had said anything so far, but I wasn’t sure who would really be able to pick up on that. But suddenly, her skeptical face flashed in my mind, and I knew who I needed to talk to.

Janna Kawada.

I didn’t even think about it before, when she had mentioned it to me, because my mind had been collecting so much information at the time that I buried it. But she saw Fiona. She saw her in the mirror. No one else had ever said as much, but that meant that either Janna could see them too or the spiritual powers were growing, and I just never noticed because this is what I was used to.

I had to speak with her. I needed to know. But where would she be? A third year Biochem student on the soccer team. She probably didn’t live on campus anymore, and practice was no longer going on. Crap. I needed to think. How would I be able to get in touch with her?

“Michael,” I said suddenly, turning to him.

He was holding his fork halfway to his mouth, noodles dangling from them, dripping sauce onto the plate. “Uh, yea’?”

“Do you happen to know when the Biochem lab is for the third years?”

Slowly he put his fork down, his expression puzzled. “Kinda. Why?”

“I need to speak to someone. Janna Kawada.”

“The one from the newspaper article?”

I nodded quickly. “The very one and the same. It’s super important. I’ll explain it later.”

Michael frowned in thought. “Right. I think there’s actually one that happens at 4:30 today, so if you stalk outside the building, you might be able to catch her. But if you don’t, those labs are usually four hours long.”

I glanced at the time on my phone and saw that it was only 2:18. Crap.

“Why do you have to talk to her?” Mags asked, drawing my attention to them. Crap. I forgot we were sitting together still. My mind had jumped way too far ahead there for a second.

My brain worked furiously as I came up with an excuse. Finally, one popped into my head, and I said, “I’m thinking of taking Chem next term as my science credit, and I might need a tutor for it.”

Mags looked skeptical. “Why not take an easier class? Human Bio is supposed to be a bird course.”

“I want to challenge myself,” I lied.

Mags looked at me for a long minute before shaking their head. “Whatever, you do you. I don’t care. I personally would take the easy option though.”

I just nodded in response, not being to say much else. I had a plan now, I needed to focus on that. Maybe I could talk to Dahlia before then? I bit my lip, thinking it through. She was never willing to tell who had killed all these people before, but it still might be worth it. Deciding it was, I picked up my bag and said goodbye to my two friends.

Quickly I made my way back to her tree. I plopped myself down and knocked on the tree. After a few minutes passed, I was worried that she wasn’t going to come. But I felt the shift in pressure as all sounds stopped around me. Dahlia appeared beside me, but something about her posture was different. She had her legs pulled up, her chin resting on her knees with the smallest of frowns on her lips. Dahlia looked younger and more vulnerable than I’ve ever seen her before. She gave me a side-eyed glance. “Yes?”

I shifted so I was shoulder to shoulder with her. “What going on with you? You seem down or something.”

Conflict played out behind her sea-green eyes before she gave me a small shake of her head.

“Are you sure?” I frowned.

“Always,” she drawled. “What is it that you need, darling?”

“Well…I just noticed recently the increase of spiritual power on campus,” I said slowly, judging her reaction. But as usual, it was nearly impossible to read. “And I was wondering if you maybe knew something about that.”

Dahlia stayed quiet for several seconds as she gathered her thoughts. Finally, she did a jerky nod. “I can’t say too much. But yes, you are correct. He’s gathering power for his next…target. But that’s all I can say.” She shifted so she could look at me fully. “Ally, there isn’t much time left. If you don’t hurry, someone else will die.” Her image flickered briefly, as if she was disappearing.

A dash of fear spiked in my system for a flash. I was running out of time? I didn’t understand, and there was something that was not letting Dahlia tell me. I thought I saw a shadow of a hand creeping onto her face.

I wanted to reach out and touch her, to comfort her but I knew I couldn’t. I placed my hand next to hers and stared into her eyes. “Listen, I will stop him. I know you can’t help me but thank you for trying anyway.”

Her image flickered again as she smiled at me. “Archives, Ally. Check them, your answers are there. Trust me when I tell you that. It’s going to be extremely dangerous, but I do believe in you. I believe in Lyndsey and Michael as well. Just be smart.” She flickered even more intensely now, nearly disappearing from view. Her eyes lit up with mischief as she said, “Salty silver witches hurt those who cannot write missives, Ally.” She disappeared after that. Of her own volition, I wasn’t sure.

I sat there, puzzled. What did that even mean?

XXX

Michael.

It was later that night when Ally came stumbling into the basement of the library. After she had gone off to do whatever it was, I hadn’t seen her for the rest of the day. After Lyn got out of her practice, she texted me saying that she was able to help with any research, but for once I think we were all stumped on our next move. So, I ended up telling her not to bother. She still showed up and ended up just working on her paper. She looked up over her laptop, staring at Ally in silent confusion. I was just as confused by her sudden arrival.

Ally gripped her phone tightly in her hand, her whole body shaking. With what, I wasn’t sure. Slowly, she sat down at out table. Lyn pulled her headphones off and reached over to place a hand on Ally’s forearm.

“Ally, you okay?” she asked, the concern noticeable in her tone.

Ally nodded. “I think I figured something out.”

I scootched my chair closer. “Like what?”

“I…” she took a deep breath and held it for a few seconds before slowly releasing it through her nose. The shaking stopped a little. “I spoke with Janna today, because I realized something. When I did my interview with her all those weeks ago, she told me she saw Fiona. It literally just came to me when I was thinking about the spiritual presences on campus feeling stronger. So, I did the stupid thing and asked her. I legit asked her if she could see the dead.” She stopped and took another deep breath.

“She said that she couldn’t. Not normally anyway. Michael, you said you could see her too, right?” I nodded and Ally continued. “Okay, so it is stronger. Stronger that other people can see it, which is why I think Dahlia was able to possess Lyn like she did, because she is already powerful as is, so it just increased her power. But it’s not all-around campus, it’s only at the Athletic Centre.”

“How come?” Lyn asked, her brow furrowed.

“Because…” Ally bit her lip, her face pale. “It was the last place someone was murdered.”

I tapped my hand against my knee, trying to keep my nerves in check. “What does that mean? Why does it matter it was the last place someone died?”

Ally pushed her glasses up her faces and pressed her hands to her eyes. “So, I spoke to the others before coming here. The others being the ghosts, that is. They all told me similar things.” She put her notebook on the table and pushed it forwards so we could read it. “Basically, each time someone had been murdered, the area where the last person had died some a sudden spike of energy. Jamieson said that he always hated having his class in Harper Hall because weird things happened all the time. Amelia was the last one to die, and she hated spending any time around the old art building, where it turns out there was another student who was killed there, but never reported on because it was considered an OD. Since Jamieson can’t leave the Student Centre, he didn’t notice the dark energy that surrounds the Athletic Centre, and he wasn’t aware that someone else had be killed.”

She sat back in her chair, the weariness on her face making her look older than 18. “So, the reason why you guys could see them when you normally couldn’t, is just that. But it gets worse, because Dahlia just went missing earlier. I can’t sense her at all. But, before she disappeared, she told me that the killer is gathering power for his next kill and that we’re running out of time. I’m not sure why he needs energy to kill, but if we think that he was the one who made Fredrik into the monster, he might be planning something similar.”

Lyn’s face looked like it was set in stone as she chewed on this information, while I continued to tap my hands against my knees. Ally sighed as she rubbed her face. “But I think if we can send Fredrik back, we can weaken the spiritual energy. That’s where Katherine comes in.”

“If she agrees,” I said quietly.

“If she does,” conceded Ally.

We stayed quiet for a minute, each of us thinking about different things. What if Katherine didn’t agree? I suppose we could always ask Talia, I’m sure she would help. But how much time did we have left? Not to joke in a serious situation, but I really hoped that he’d have the decency to kill before exams, so they were at least cancelled.

Lyn got up suddenly, as if she was possessed. Oh, maybe that wasn’t the right choice of words. Oh well. She said nothing to us as she headed for the staircase that led to the second floor of the basement. Ally and I shared a look before I shrugged. I wasn’t going to make the effort to go and see what she was getting up to.

XXX

Lyn.

I don’t know what possessed me, but I knew I needed to look in here.

The archives.

I was spending so much time looking up things online that I forgot about one thing: a lot of these old newspapers haven’t been put on the internet yet because someone had to do it manually. People were a lot of things but being paid a lame wage plus no motivation equalled someone not doing their job.

I knew the person who died in the ‘60s was Dahlia Cressman, because we had her old things in our home. My great grandpa had mentioned it a few times too. There was no point in looking into that, now that I’ve made that connection. But the opening of the school, that’s what I needed to know about. Ally had mentioned it a few times, but it wasn’t until now that something occurred to me. Dahlia had told her someone had died before the campus had opened. These things happened, unfortunately. Accidents happen at construction sites.

But what if that death was more than that? I went all the way into the back of the room, going to the oldest shelf. I gently pulled out boxes full of old news articles, flipping through them until I found what I was looking for: the article written about that day.

I gingerly opened the paper, being careful of where I laid it on the table. My eyes scanned through the garble of the paper until I found what I was looking for. The headline was still legible, reading Tragedy at New University Location.

What should have been a wonderful day ended in tragedy. During the nearly finished construction of the new University campus built in Yokeville, a disaster struck. 27-year-old Jeremiah Kinkly was found dead this morning, Tuesday June 12th. It was suspected that Kinkly was trying to sneak into the property, into the Kramer Hall building. This building had not been finished yet, and many pieces of scaffolding had been hung in place, not locked up. According to RCMP officer Lawrence, it looked as if the man fell to his death.

“His body was somewheres near the building, all mangled like,” said the young officer. “I got a call about a trespasser, and when I got here, I seen the body right away. I knew there was nothing I could do for him. Poor soul.”

Mr. Kinkly is survived by his mother, father, and pet dog.

The picture they had used for him looked exactly like the Drama professor. But that wasn’t the only thing I was looking for. I went back into the archives and shuffled through more of the boxes, knowing what it was I needed. The lights flickered dangerously overhead, which told me I was looking in the right spot after all. My heart picked up its pace when I found it. Quickly I read it over, just to be sure. I grinned in confirmation and headed back to the table. I picked up the newspaper and went back upstairs, where the other two where still sitting, looking just as tired as I felt. I put the paper on the table and pushed it towards them.

“Do you see the issue I see?”

Michael looked up with a frown. “What do you mean?”

I tapped at the end of the article, when Ally gasped. “Mother, father. No other family is mentioned. How is that possible? They must be related. They literally look like the same person…”

I dropped my other find on the table. “Look at this.”

Ally picked it up, her eyes widening as she got to the end of the article. Michael took it next and read through it a few times, his brow furrowed as he muttered, “This doesn’t make sense.”

“They’re the same person,” I said, crossing my arms. “Robert Kinkly claimed that he was related to the dead man when asked about after his hiring, but there were no other children, and the family seemingly didn’t have another child. Even if they did, Kinkly wouldn’t look as young as he did. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”

“But how…?” Ally’s voice was practically a whisper. “How is it that he died but he’s here now?”

Then Ally’s face paled as realization bloomed in her eyes. “He’s like them. He’s like the Moore siblings.”

Michael asked, “What does that mean?” as I sat down.

“They’re tangible. They can touch us and we can touch them.” Ally pulled over her notebook and started writing furiously. “I suspected the reason why they could be because they had turned into something evil. Was it because they had no family? Kinkly would fall into that category if that was the case, because his family may no longer be alive. But does that make him the killer?”

“The killings started happening once he got a job here, in the ‘70s,” I pointed out. “You said that Amelia didn’t like going to the art building, probably because someone had died there. What did she say about that?”

“That she always felt like there was someone watching her there,” said Ally. “Would it be worth it to try and talk to the ghost there? Maybe we can learn something.”

Michael ran his hands over his face as he mumbled, “We might as well.”

“Yeah, it’s not like it can get any more insane than this,” I said with a slight smirk.

Ally looked between us before nodding. “Alright, we’ll go for it tomorrow. I’m too tired tonight.”

“Blessed,” said Michael as he started tossing his things into his bag. “I really didn’t want to go tonight, no offence.”

“None taken.”

I packed up quickly too and followed them out. I made sure to say bye to Eileen as we left. I loved the little old lady and she always helped me out in first year. We walked with Michael all the way back to his res before I walked with Ally back to hers.

I wasn’t the most observant person on the planet, but I thought she seemed a little happier recently. A smile flickered across my face unbidden, and I looked up at the stars. They were hard to see through the light, the pollution, and the clouds, but they were fighting through. I always liked going camping in the summer and staring up at them, losing myself in them. It was one of the few things I liked as a teenager. It was a way for me to get away from all the drama at home.

Ally’s hands slipped into mine as she pressed herself against my side. I looked down at her and she was smiling up at me, her face pink from the cold. It was amazing that she could still smile through all of this. Her strength never ceased to amaze me. We were standing in front of Lukas but Ally didn’t seem to be in a rush to get inside. She probably would have stayed there for as long as possible, but I could already see she was starting to shiver. So, I bent down and kissed her, whispering good night in her ear. She kissed me back before heading inside, and I waved to her as I left.

I wasn’t sure why I went this way instead of heading back to MacGavin, but I found myself standing in front of the big tree. The one where Dahlia resides. I placed my hand on the bark, not able to feel the roughness because of my gloves. It was a strange feeling, knowing that someone I was related to had died here on this very campus. I didn’t feel a sense of sadness or anything, since I didn’t know anything about the chick, but still. It was a little unsettling, you know?

“Hey, um,” I felt my ears heating up, “I have no idea if you can hear me but thanks. I know I gave ya grief the other day for possessing me and shit, but you save our asses. Um…great grandpa never stopped missing you. I wish we had the chance to meet, because honestly you sound like a super cool lady. And thanks for helping Ally out, even if you can’t give her all the answers. I’m sure you have your reasons.” I let my hand drop to my side as I looked up at the branches, noticing for the first time that all the water had froze, creating a crystal-like appearance. It was gorgeous to look at. “Uh, yeah. That’s about it, I guess. It’d be awesome if you could help us one last time, but I guess you’re missing. I hope you’re okay. Well…bye, Dahlia.”

Did it feel super fucking weird to talk to a tree? Yes. Did it make any sense to me? Nope. But for whatever reason, I felt a little bit lighter as I walked back to my res.

XXX

Ally.

Next time I decide to solve murders of long dead people and go on spooky missions during the night, I’m doing it in a warmer season because I’m so sick of the cold at this point. It was only 8:00 at night but I was freezing.

I pushed open the doors of the art building, welcoming the warmth that blasted my face. The building was still open because there was a play going on for Drama. I had already seen it on a previous night because it was part of our grade to do so. I was here for a different reason tonight. To speak to one last ghost. Hopefully.

The music for the show was muffled but could still be heard through the doors. The two students in charge of the tickets were talking to each other to pass the time, paying me no attention, which was perfect. I didn’t want them to ask me any questions.

I quietly walked by their table as I felt my skin prickling. I looked up to see him sitting there, a young man sketching. I used the stairs to get up to the third level of the building, a decision I regretted almost immediately. Look, I’m not the most fit person, I’ll admit that, but I don’t think anyone on this planet could take multiple flights of stairs without getting tired. If they could, they probably weren’t human.

He was waiting for me when I finally made it to him, trying very hard to not wheeze. He had slicked back black hair and curious blue eyes. He gave me a wave and a small smile that I returned as I leaned over the balcony, looking down to the ground floor.

“You’re the one making waves around here, huh?” he asked, floating off so he was standing next to me.

“That’s me.”

He nodded, looking down as well. “You know you’re making a name for yourself in the spirit world, right? I usually don’t haunt here anymore, since I gave up hope a long time ago that anyone was going to bring that killer to justice, so when Dahlia told me about you, it was hard to believe. Yet, here you are.”

“Here I am,” I said softly. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my notebook and pen. I smiled at him as I waved it. “Mind if I ask you a few questions?”

“Go right ahead, young lady.”

“What’s your name?”

“David Lancaster,” he answered simply.

“If you don’t mind telling me, I would like to know how you died.”

“I don’t. I was here, working on my art project when I heard something strange. I decided to go check it out, because the banging wouldn’t stop. I ended going into the auditorium, that one over there,” he pointed at where the play was currently taking place. “Once I was inside, the doors slammed shut behind me and they wouldn’t budge. I knew about the emergency exit, so I wasn’t too scared yet, but I’d just seen Halloween with my girlfriend Sally, and I thought maybe it was my buddy Joe playing a prank on me. But as I got closer to the door, I felt this terrible chill just seep into my bones. I thought it was from the door since it led outside, but I was very wrong.

“Next thing I knew, I was frozen to the spot. I couldn’t move, no matter how hard I tried. Then I felt someone come up from behind me and jab me in the arm. I tried to get a good look at who it was, but I never saw his face, only heard his voice. He jabbed me again, and my vision went black. When I woke up, my body was lying on the ground and I wasn’t in it. I believe the coroner said I had OD’d. That hurt the most, since I never did a bad drug in my life. Just some weed, but most people my age had.” He scratched his chin before running his hand through his hair in thoughtful silence.

I put the pen down, surprised at how easy that fell off his tongue. I suppose being dead for nearly 50 years stopped you from being sensitive about your own demise. But listening to him, I was certain now that Kinkly was behind this. I asked if he saw the killer’s general height and hair colour, and when I showed him a picture his eyes widened a little.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered to himself. “I remember taking classes with Professor Kinkly. He told me I was his brightest star.”

“I think…” I took a deep breath in and steeled myself. “I think he was the one who killed you, David.”

David looked at me, his jaw slack with surprise and his eyes watery. He closed them and his body started to shake. I was confused when I realized he was laughing, and I took a step away from him. The laughter became echoing, as if there was more than one voice laughing with him. When he turned to look at me again, his eyes were gone, and the skin was melting off his bones. Fear spiked in my system as I stumbled away from him. I spirted to the staircase, trying to get away from him.

“I told you he was coming! He’s coming for you!” His voice followed me all the way down, and when I turned around to see if he was gone, I saw nothing. However, when I got to the bottom of the stairs, he jumped out in front of me, reaching for my face. I screamed in shock as I fell back.

His face had warped into something monstrous, with bloody saliva and sharp teeth. I whimpered as I tried to scoot away, but the only thing behind me was the stairs and they stopped me from going anywhere.

“You shouldn’t have stuck your nose where it didn’t belong, you stupid girl,” said the voice of Kinkly’s from David’s mouth. “If you had minded your own business, then I would have left you alone. But now? Now, I have to KILL YOU!” He roared in my face, raising a clawed hand.

I lifted my arms up in protection when something strange happened. His body froze and began to twist in an inhumanly way. He looked like someone possessed in a scary movie. One clear blue eye found mine and he said in the calming voice from earlier, “You need to get away, young lady.”

I’m not sure how David took his spirit form back, but I quickly scrambled away. There must have been a distortion of space in place, because no one was around. I was all alone here, stuck with the murderer who killed so many before me. I wasn’t sure how long David was going to be able to hold out for, and I didn’t want to stick around to find out.

I hear him howling behind me and I made a mad dash to the door. I slammed against the glass and pulled on them violently, but they wouldn’t budge. My panic levels were starting to rise to a dangerous level as I looked around for an escape from this hell space. My eyes were drawn to the other exit, back from where I came from. My pulse was pounding in my ears and in my head as I ran like crazy past David, who took a vicious swipe at me as I did. I managed to dodge out of the way, with only a nick in my jacket to show for it.

The sounds of galloping followed behind me as Beast David charged at me. I jumped out of the way as he flew by, taking a chunk of the floor with him. I winced as I hit the floor but ignored it for now as I scrambled back to my feet. I raced towards the exit and smashed my shoulder into it, and the door popped open with a hiss like a pop tab. I slammed it shut behind me and backed away. David slammed into the door but couldn’t make past it.

Students were leaving from the other side, blissfully unaware of the monster that was on the other side. David’s form melted as he disappeared, his haunting empty sockets being the last thing I saw.

A few students glanced my way as I stood there, breathing heavily. I winced as I took a step back, pain flaring like heat in my ribs. I must have landed on them funny when I jumped. I raked my fingers through my hair, trying hard to bring my heart rate down.

David’s voice had sounded so familiar to me, and now I know why. He was the one who warned me, back in the library. He warned me that someone was coming for me. How he did that, I wasn’t sure. But it was him.

Slowly, I made my way back to my dorm room. I quickly fired off a message in the ‘Spook Searchers’ group chat as I did, wanting to let the others know what happened. I was just about to slip my phone back in my pocket when I noticed that I had a notification on Messenger still. It was from someone who wasn’t considered a friend. Curious, I hit it open and saw that it was from Katherine Howard. I was a little unsure of who that was until I read the message.

7:52

Katherine:

listen I thought about it

come meet me at the shop and we’ll talk

bring your friends if you want to idc

Shoot, that a while ago. It was nearly 9 now. I sent back a reply saying I was coming now if that was okay. The little green dot saying she was online appeared, and the little meatballs showed up saying she was writing back. All she said was “yes,” so I gritted my teeth and walked briskly towards the store.

My ribs felt like they were stabbing me as I approached the store. I wiped at the sweat that starting to form on my forehead despite the cold weather. I was really, really, really getting sick of being hurt from these ghosts. If this kept up, I was going to need more serious stuff than just some Tylenol and Ibuprofen.

There was a single light on in the store as I got closer. I peeked through the window and jumped when the door swung open. Katherine hurried me in and quickly closed the door behind us, making sure it was locked. She directed me to follow her into the back where she sat on the counter and offered me the stool. I sat on it gingerly, watching her carefully.

Katherine was tugging on her hair, a nervous gesture from what I saw last time we spoke. It was tied back in a messy ponytail with pink tips, and I could see a hearing aid resting in her left ear. She had long nose and stunning green eyes that were watching me carefully as well. Her eyes darted to the door and back to me before she hunched her shoulders.

“Did no one else want to come?” she asked, moving her hands at the same time.

I shook my head. “I didn’t ask them, actually. I just got back from business and come over here.”

“Business?”

“The supernatural kind.”

She exhaled through pursed lips as she nodded. “Right. Well…I thought about what you asked of me.”

I waited for her to continue, but she just sat there and said nothing. I frowned and with an indication of my hand, I motioned her to continue.

Katherine sighed, dropping her hands to rest on the countertop. “What you’re asking of me is very dangerous. Like, stupidly dangerous. I thought long and hard about it, because it’s not just some decision I’m gonna make on the fly…but… I’ll help.”

My eyebrows lifted in surprise. “Really? How come?”

“Because, when I talked to my mom about it, she said it was the right thing for me to do,” Katherine huffed. “Whatever the hell that means. When I asked her why she couldn’t just do it, she said that she couldn’t anymore.”

I nodded slowly. “Okay…” I tried to shift, which was a bad idea. Closing my eyes, I focused on taking a deep breath through my nose. It actually made it worse.

“Are you alright?”

“Just a little sore,” I said through gritted teeth. “So, not to come off as rude, but are you actually a witch? I know Michael was a little blunt in his approach last time.”

Katherine’s face went slightly pink as she nodded. “Magic is real. My mom taught me all that she knows. But if you guys need me to do a banishment or exorcism or whatever, that’s a really heavy spell. I’m gonna be wiped out after that.”

“Good to know.” I stood up, not being able to withstand the discomfort anymore. “I’m sorry that I’ve put you in this position, but I’m really grateful that you’re helping us out. It means a lot to me.”

Katherine looked away. “Whatever. It’s the right thing to do. Someone shouldn’t suffer like that because the acts of another did that to them.”

My eyes must be playing tricks on me, because I thought I saw something flicker around Katherine’s head when she said that. But there was nothing there. I did still have that strange sense like I did last time, however. I wasn’t sure what it was about her, but there was something that was calling to me. It was very puzzling.

“Is that all you wanted to talk about?” I asked. “Because if it was, I’m going to head back to my room. I’ve got some stuff to catch up on.”

Katherine nodded and slipped off the desk with grace. She walked over to the door and glanced through the window before unlocking it. She glanced at me with her hand resting on the handle. “We’ll have to do it before the full moon next week, otherwise I’m worried this guy will be too much for me to handle. I’ll get a boost too, but I’m not risking my head for this.”

I thought back to our last full moon encounter with Fredrik and shuddered. “No complaints from me. Thanks so much, Katherine. I really mean it.”

“You’re welcome, sheesh,” she pulled the door open for me. “Be safe walking home… Uh, Ally?”

“Ally,” I confirmed with a smile.

“Right. Okay, well, I’ll message you when we should do. Might be in the next couple of days.”

“Okay, just let me know. Bye, and have a goodnight.”

“You too,” she said quietly. She watched me leave and walk a little up the street before ducking back inside and most likely locking the door again.

At least one good thing happened before the night ended. Knowing that we had someone who was willing to help us with our Fredrik problem was a way better ending than me nearly getting killed by David’s monster form. The stabbing pain in my ribs was now a dull throbbing, which might not be the best sign in the world. I just needed to get back to my room and take some meds before heading to bed. God, this semester couldn’t end fast enough if it wanted to.

[afniel]

Imma put some (heavy? I'm not sure? I don't go into any graphic details of anything bad but I guess it's a big topic, check the tags if you want to know more) mental health stuff under the cut, so, here's the cut.

I'm feeling like I can and maybe should be a little more open about this recently, so...I've realized that it's highly likely that I've got Dissociative Identity Disorder. Now granted, I'm not diagnosed at the time of this post, but it's something I've been living with for basically my entire life already, and I've got a ton of practice dealing with myself and working through shit, so I'm pretty sure it is what it is. Plus, honestly, how else do you explain containing several other people who are also me except all of these mes don't necessarily share access to each other's memories or skills*, which occasionally causes some really difficult shit for all of me. I'm self-aware enough that I notice missed time and holes in my memory now—we don't ask about the times I couldn't notice them, those are pretty bad times—and the only alter I have who's even capable of fully taking over if I blank out isn't even really distinguishable from me, he's just funnier. And I've got pretty decent communication methods with all of them, which aren't even that many at this point...I used to have a few more. (I would pay the super organized one with the great fashion sense to come back, though, damn.)

And yes, before anyone comes in like, "Well, Ackshually, you need to have experienced repeated, regular trauma before the age of—" ...don't assume that I didn't, man, because I did. I blocked it all from memory for years until 2020 started unearthing shit because I had nothing but time and nothing to do but introspect, and I just wasn't ready to accept it until then. To be clear, I definitely don't mean any sort of fun or self-induced kind of multiplicity, here, I mean the sort where at several points in my life I've had people tell me that I did/said stuff I don't even remember and would never normally do/say when I legitimately believed I was asleep. And then I blocked those out of memory too, because why not at that point. It's a self-defense mechanism, and one that's very hard to distinguish from ADHD and fibro and sleep disturbance memory problems, any of which are shitty enough on their own.

Honestly it doesn't mean anyone has to do anything differently around me. I'm still Me, I've just realized that I never quite got glued together right during some developmental stages because of environmental pressure to, in fact, not do that at all, because it was a lot easier to function that way. None of my parts feel like Entirely Not Me, they've got names and different voices and all but as a whole I don't want to be addressed differently, it's just this weird feeling of realizing that my brain runs very oddly, looking under the hood, and finding out that it's not even assembled but it's somehow managing to carry on anyway...and has been like this since I was a child, which is clear in hindsight now that I'm not involuntarily blanking everything about it out.

I'm gonna at some point here try and see if I have access to any therapists who can work with DID, 'cause man, it kinda sucks and I wouldn't mind managing it better. I'm not doing badly now, but I haven't been doing spectacularly in general with it, so, y'know. There's always room to improve.

(I'm especially mad that I'm funnier than myself, what the actual fuck. How does that even work.)

*Footnote: I discovered the hard way that my most functional guardian sort of alter actually can't draw, he just cribs off of my memory if he needs to do it because he's got nearly full access to it (though I have only middly access to his memory), but we switched so abruptly one time that I kinda shunted off into nowhere for a very confusing 20-30 seconds of staring at the tablet going, "Hey, wow, this is really good. Who drew—oh shit, I'm drawin' this? Oh no. I have no fuckin' idea how to draw, fuck, what do I do?" until everything kinda stopped bluescreening. Funny in retrospect but also very much an Oh No This Is Serious Isn't It moment.

Plus side, he also doesn't have fibromyalgia, which is GREAT but another sign that hey, uh, something is not working as expected here, because why would I just sometimes not have a chronic condition, but only when I'm in this REALLY specific mental state...? Brains are wild, y'all.

[nso-csi]

201027  FLAUNT magazine SUPERM / DO YOU KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE TO BE UNMADE?

What is unique about your chemistry that you don't experience in your individual groups?   Taemin: I’ve always been one of the youngest until I joined SuperM, where I found myself as one of the senior (older and more experienced) members of the group. Taking on this role allowed me to discover myself more. They bring out a different side of me that I wasn’t really aware of before. And though we are all very different, we’ve become very close. Everyone has a great sense of humor so when we’re together, there is always this bright, happy energy. I’m always having a great time when I’m with the guys. Why does this moment in the world feel the right time to drop an album as a super group? Taemin: Although it’s difficult to go outside and do “normal” things due to the pandemic, what’s great about music is that you can also enjoy it wherever you are. Music is a part of everyone’s daily lives—kind of like their own unique background music—and can have a big big impact on their moods, the environment and how they start and go about their days. With this in mind, we hope listeners can find healing and strength to help overcome these times through our music. How would you describe SuperM’s energy and charm? How is it special? Taemin: I think SuperM’s biggest strength is our performance. The members are outstanding artists with their own exceptional talent including vocal, rap and dancing and we also each have strong characters and personalities that helps create that super synergy on stage. Taemin (태민) I know you’ve recently been working more on your solo career, what’s it’s like to work within a group again? I feel more at ease when I’m with the guys because I have them to rely on. With busy schedules, there are times when I feel tired and uninspired but to have other members cheer you on and work towards the same goals is a blessing. I’m very grateful and happy to have them by my side.   You debuted at age 14. What has it been like to be involved in pop/fame at such a young age and what have you learned from this experience? What would you change if you could revise history? From debuting at such a young age, I definitely learned a lot. Compared to others around my age in their late 20s and early 30s who are just starting off their careers, I’d say I’m more knowledgeable about “the real world” because I started so early. If I could turn back the clock and give advice to my younger self, I would say don’t put too much pressure on yourself–take the time to enjoy the moment. When I think back, I was always in a rush to move forward but now I realize that as long as you have a goal and stay determined, it’s fine to just take it one step at a time. What is your process like when you write a song? I first listen to the demo and if I really like it, I keep it as it is but most of the time, I to change it up a bit. After discussing my vision with the producer or songwriter, I make the changes, edits and add a topline. I like doing this bit by bit, not all at once, because as I work on the song I’m also thinking about and envisioning the performance. When there is a change to the performance, there is also a change to the song to match the performance and vice versa. When the song is completed to some extent, I record the song, work on the choreography and finalize the performance details.  

source: FLAUNT

[winunk]

Under A Peach Tree | iv | Akaashi Keiji x fem!OC

Chapter Four: Can I Call You Tonight?

Pairing: Akaashi Keiji x fem!OC

Summary: Akaashi isn’t sure why but he wants to spend more time with Sasaki. He’s struggling to figure out his feelings and doesn’t want to push Sasaki’s boundaries.

Genre: romance, angst, humor if you squint and think I'm funny

Warnings: cursing, incompetent author who literally does not know how to update regularly, cringe anxious teens, broken caps lock key

Word Count: 1.8k

Check out the series playlist here!

I fucked up.

I watched her walk away from me.

I fucked up.

The train was shaking me, but I couldn’t feel it.

I fucked up.

I hung my bag on a hook next to my desk.

Why couldn’t you just tell her that you wanted her around?

I dried my hair with my towel, staring back at the boy in the mirror.

Why do you even want her around?

I sunk into my bed, wrapping myself in the covers.

Tomorrow came too soon. Before I knew what was happening, I was unlocking the club room and getting all the equipment ready in the gym.

Focus, Keiji. You’ve got to get this team to the Spring Tournament again.

I began warming up as the rest of the team trickled in. I set the volleyball off the wall, and it came back perfectly to my hands.

This isn’t enough.

I started going faster, running back and forth, bouncing the ball of the wall from different angles.

Just hit that same spot.

I kept going, sweat dripping down the side of my face. The cold air of the morning pricked my skin. 

Just--

I slipped. My shoes screeched against the gym floor, stopping my feet as my body flung too far to the left. I landed on the hard ground, a sharp pain in my ankle.

I fucked up.

“Akaashi-san,” Onaga called out, rushing to my side. “Are you alright?”

I rolled over onto my back, sprawling out on the floor. “I’m sure I’ll be okay,” I reassured him.

I’m definitely not okay.

I accepted his help up, and my knees almost automatically buckled. Pain flared up in my ankle.

Well, shit.

“Yeah, you’re going home.”

Onaga called Yuka and Coach Yamiji over to help me to my feet. He explained the situation to them, and Coach gave me a pointed look before telling Yuka to wrap my ankle and lock me out of the gym.

“You’re not going to actually lock me out of the gym, are you?” I asked Yuka.

She slid the door shut with a slam.

So much for being her favorite senpai.

I started on my way home.

Where did I go wrong?

I grabbed a bag of ice on my way to my room.

I’ve never been kicked out of practice like that before.

I set the ice bag against the part of my foot that hurt the most and sat down at my desk. I started to do some work written on my to-do list, but I kept glancing at my phone. I wasn’t sure why, but I kept checking to see if Sasaki had messaged me.

Yu-chan must have told her about my injury. She had to have given Sasaki my number for managerial reasons.

I picked up my phone and started looking through my social media apps for any missed notifications.

Why do I want her to message me so badly?

I opened the video calling app on my phone and called the first person on my recents list. Really, he was the only person on my recents list.

Maybe I just want attention right now.

“AGAASHE!” Bokuto’s hair filled up most of the screen. His eyebrows filled the rest. “How are you? You never call this early in the day.”

Do I want his advice or do I just want to catch up with him like normal?

“I finished my homework early, so I thought I would call you, Bokuto-san,” I replied, rubbing the nape of my neck. “How have you been?”

“I’m doing GREAT!”

I turned down the volume.

“I took Coach’s advice and stopped practicing on our days off!” he bragged. “I’ve been spending so much time just WALKING AROUND! THERE’S SO MANY FOOD STALLS HERE!!! I’LL JUST STOP ON MY WALK AND PICK UP SOMETHING TO EAT AND BE ON MY WAY!!!”

I smiled. “That’s good for you, Bokuto-san,” I said. “You always seemed a little more tense during those week-long training camps. Training nonstop didn’t do you well.”

“BUT YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND, AGAASH!!!” he exclaimed. “THE FOOD HERE IS SO GOOOOD!!!!!!”

“I’m sure it is, Bokuto-san.”

He continued talking about how much he was enjoying Osaka. Bokuto rambled on and on about the food. He had been upset that he wasn’t on the official roster for the team at first, but he was in the pool for the team to pick players from.

“It’s actually a lot nicer than I thought it would be, Akaash!” he shouted. “I’m getting to play a lot of games without feeling the pressure weigh down on me.

“I mean sure, I have to be good enough for them to put me on their team, but everyone here is good. Not that the guys at Fukurodani aren’t good. These guys are just so good. I don’t feel like I’m being pushed into a corner though. They’re pushing for me to be better in a good way.”

I nodded along. He gave me the opportunity for me to talk about what universities I was applying to. As always, he tried to convince me to go to a school with a good volleyball team so i could play.

“Hey, why are you upset?”

I blinked rapidly, his question washing over me like cold water.

How did he know?

“I’m not upset, Bokuto-san,” I responded, trying to slow my breathing.

My heart was beating faster as my mind scrambled for something, anything, to say to shake Bokuto’s interrogation.

When was he able to read me this well?

“How was your game with Nekoma yesterday?” Bokuto asked instead. He was narrowing down on everything that could have gone wrong in the last 24 hours.

I nodded my head, looking at the stack of books on my desk. “It went well,” I said. “We lost, but only barely. They have a pretty solid team while we’re still trying to get the first-years working in sync.”

Bokuto scratched his head. “Didn’t you say there was a really good first-year hitter?”

“Mamoru-kun.”

“Mamoru-kun! How is he doing?” Bokuto asked, light flashing in his eyes. “Is he giving you as much trouble as I gave you?”

I chuckled and shook my head. “Bokuto-san, you weren’t as troublesome as you thought you were,” I reassured him. “But, uh, Mamoru-kun is shaping up very well. Anahori-kun actually got to play quite a bit in the last set of the game as well.”

His eyes narrowed and a wide grin graced his face.

Ah, so he’s caught on.

“I KNEW THERE WAS SOMETHING WRONG!” he shouted. “What’s got you so wound up?”

“You seem awfully happy that I’m upset, Bokuto-san.”

“AGAASHEE!!!”

I sighed. “So there’s this,” I hesitated, “person that I’ve gotten close with. I asked them to help Yuka-chan with her manager duties--”

“Haha! You said duties!”

“--but yesterday they quit out of nowhere,” I finished, ignoring Bokuto’s comment. “I don’t know if it was something that I did wrong, or if the team was actually stressing them out.”

My mind flashed back to Onaga’s arm around Sasaki’s shoulders. I felt my blood boil thinking about how uncomfortable she looked.

Bokuto scratched his chin. “What does this have to do with you losing to Nekoma?” he asked. Didn’t you guys just play them last weekend at the training camp?”

“I think I just got nervous with them watching,” I admitted, not realizing that it was the truth until I said it. “It’s the first game that they’ve watched, and I really wanted to impress them.”

“Oh?”

I sighed. The storm that had been brewing in my mind for the past couple days was finally settling down into a soft drizzle.

“They’ve been really distant from me, but I can see the intelligence behind their eyes. I want to spend hours talking to them about literature and school. I want to ask them a million questions about how they think the universe works.”

Bokuto laughed heartily at me.

“Why are you calling me then?”

“Wha--”

“Bye Akaashi!” he shouted. “I think you know what to do!!!”

He hung up on me. I couldn’t believe he just hung up on me. My own face looked back at me in shock.

Bokuto’s voice echoed through my room, through my mind. The phrase repeated itself over and over again.

I know what to do.

I messaged Yuka-chan.

“Took you long enough,” she sent back before sending me what I asked for.

I didn’t ask her what she meant by that.

How did Yuka-chan and Bokuto-san catch onto my feelings before I did? I’m still not even sure just how I feel.

“Hi, it’s Akaashi Keiji,” I typed out.

The blinking cursor mocked me. My thumb rapidly deleted the message and tapped out a new one.

“Hey, it’s Akaashi.”

I sent the message, my stomach uneasy with nerves.

“Can I call you tonight?”

The bubble indicating that Sasaki was typing popped up almost immediately. I felt like I was going to throw up.

Throwing my phone on my desk, I wrung my hands.

My phone buzzed, and I scrambled to pick it up. I couldn’t have her thinking I left her on read.

“I’m about to shower, but you can call me in an hour.”

I sighed in relief.

She doesn’t think I’m weird.

My phone vibrated again. “Are you alright? Did you need something?” she asked.

“I’ll call you at 19:30,” I texted back.

I’ll just explain to her what I need when i call her. Perfect. I get to talk to her.

Why do I want to talk to her?

I spent most of the next hour killing time. I cleaned my room, though it didn’t need much cleaning. I walked to the kitchen and stared at the contents of my fridge. I sat on my bed, staring at my closet in contemplation before deciding that I didn’t need to change my shirt.

By 19:28 I was lying on the ground, staring at the clock on my phone.

Should I call her exactly at 19:30? What if she thinks that’s creepy? Should I call her a little bit sooner? What if she’s busy and misses the call? Should I call her a little bit later? What if she thinks I forgot to call?

I groaned in frustration, slamming my thumb down on the screen. I quickly put my phone on speaker and laid it down next to my head.

With each ring, the pounding in my chest felt louder. My stomach felt like it was trying to dig its way into the ground.

Why is this so nerve-wracking?

“Hello?” a voice called out from the speaker on my phone. “Akaashi-san?”

I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding. “Hi, Sasaki-chan,” I replied.

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Taglist: [Open]

a/n: Most of this playlist/fic will be Dayglow songs. I love his music so much and they just vibe.

fun facts:

**I 100% made up Bokuto’s situation (I don’t know how pro sports works in Japan)

**Bokuto is Akaashi’s BEST FRIEND!!! just because he’s loud doesn’t mean he isn’t emotionally intelligent and knows what Akaashi needs!!!!

[prismcaster]

I just had the most amazing experience!!!

I am going to do a little back story here, because it has been quite a while since my last post...

So, my grandfather, who was the the only person in my entire 35 years of existence that I never felt the need to question if he really loved me. Any way, super long story, shortened because I don’t feel like getting into that right now, he passed away three months ago.

In the time since then, i began to question my choice of kicking spiritualism from my life. You see, since my father, i chose that purposefully, because calling him dad would insinuate that he ever truly gave a fuck about me, or my sister.... but anyway, he used and still probably does, use his religion as an excuse to punish his children for doing him wrong.... which is typical narcissistic behavior.

Which speaking of, i recently read a book called Narcissistic Father, and it literally explained him to me perfectly! It actually made the fact that he has something wrong with him mentally, make me feel so much better about myself somehow.... because well, it turns out, it really is his fault, and none of it is mine. So definitely check out that book!

So since I have all these odd feelings for him because of these things... I cast “religion” out of my life completely. I figured, religion had to be fake, because no religion would keep a parent from their child, so i cast it out 100%. It was so bad, i began to believe that when you die, you just go. I believed that when you go, there is nothing, it just ends, and that your body decomposes, giving it back to the earth you were born from, and that is that.

Then the depression came in. Because there is nothing. Nothing else. And if I couldn’t have my family back, the way i thought it should be, and that at the end of all this pain, there truly is nothing, then what is the point in being in pain forever? And contemplated suicide while laying in the floor in my art studio in complete darkness.

But i thought,” that’s stupid, you didn’t die from cancer and you’re thinking about this right now?! What the fuck, you idiot!” And i got up off the floor, switched the light back on, wiped the tears from my eye’s, and started to draw again. This eventually led to me cutting my arm open, and telling someone months later, and finally getting the help i needed to be able to get better.

Therapy was such a blessing. I truly recommend it. Talking about your problems with someone you are literally paying to listen to you, and paying to keep their opinions to themselves, is a blessing in and of itself. I also strongly suggest journaling. When ever i felt bad, i would write to myself... it helped me explain what i was feeling to myself so that i could finally start to process what was actually happening in my mind so that I could start to slowly solve my own problems.

As i did this, a strange sense of accomplishment came over me suddenly, as i realized that the saying is true, you have to create your own happiness, and also, that you have to love yourself if you ever hope to love anyone else.

So i kept working on myself, and one day, my sister mentioned to me that she had picked up a ouija board at a garage sale. Immediately, for some reason, i said, let’s do it! And we called our other sisters, and planned our first seance. The four of us went all out. We put white candles everywhere , took it very seriously, and experienced the magic of ouija for the first time.

Now, it took a while of hitting dead ends which what we were communicating with, but one day, the mother lode of insane things happened! My cousin came through the board, and after confirming neither of us were moving the planchette, and that this truly was who they said they were, i realized that the end isn’t really the end, but that there really is more, and my life started to change more and more.

I eventually decided that since I didn’t enjoy coloring any more, that I should make a coloring book instead, that way other people can color my art work, and make it their own.

Then, in the midst of this, I decided that I wanted to make my own ouija board, but not call it a ouija board.... so the google searches began.

My sister and I started a podcast, and i used that as an excuse to do an episode on the ouija board, as an excellent excuse to do deep dive research on the boards themselves.

Using this info, I knew I needed to make a spirit board, so I started to work on drawing a design, while also trying to figure out how to make it.

One day I realized “hey, i could make this design up on my ipad and turn the background off, and turn this into a png file, and cut it out with your cricut!”

So i immediately set to work on that, while still trying to figure out how to make them. Finally one day, i discussed this idea with my husband, and he suggested resin on wood. And so it began.

So far, i have made around 30 or maybe more, boards, and yet, i still do not have my own! Maybe some day! Anyway, so that was done and in progress, I left my job that was sucking me dry physically and emotionally, started pushing myself harder, was finally trying to live my life for me, instead of trying to live it the way i thought my father would have wanted me to.

I was truly happy.

And then my grandpa left us.

I collapsed hard. But I had to try to keep it together at the same time because my grandma needed me... my mom needed me.... and my sisters needed me. I fought it as long as i could.... but eventually i broke under the pressure, and re visited my therapist, whom I have decided I am just going to continue to see monthly just in case.

Turns out, I was handling grief the right way.... which I am sure surprised her a little, being as how she had diagnosed me with ptsd a few years prior.

Since his passing, i have not touched a board, or held a pendulum, and not because I am afraid he will talk to me.... but because I am afraid that he won’t. As a 100% Irish Catholic man, I am not sure if he would come through the board or not, although, i do think that he would think it would be funnier than hell to scare us.

I have however found something to believe in. Paganism. No judgements, no frills, just love, paganism, and I will never look back.

After I decided to “come out of the broom closet” so to speak, and openly declare that I am a magical being, things started changing fast...

I finished my coloring book, and most importantly, feel mentally healed. I can’t even begin to explain it, but I will try....

First, after grandpa’s passing, I realized I had learned a few things. For example, that you shouldn’t take those you love for granted, which is when i realized he was the only person who had shown me unconditional love my entire life, no matter what. I also learned from that, the passing of the person who took care of me like a dad, that all I was doing was punishing myself for something someone else did, and that I needed to stop. And you know why?! Religion!

The same damn thing that i tried so hard to keep out.

You see, my grandpa was a wonderful dude. In my entire existence, i never heard him say a negative word about anyone. And most notably, whenever he heard me say anything bad about anyone, he would tell me that I couldn’t change them, but I should say a prayer for them.

It was this phrase, which i had repeated to me over and over again, that now finally made sense after finally realizing the true power of religion. You see, I couldn’t change my father, but, I could change the way he effected me. So, i made a little testament outloud, i moved on.

But then i realized, that if that was the case with that, maybe I needed to be more open to the idea, of religion being legitimate. So i started some research again. But this time, as homework for the tribe I was planning to join. I researched goddesses, because If I was going to pick a deity to start working with, they had to be a strong female.

First up, came Athena. And i truly believe she has been with me, allowing me to get through all of my life’s battles, without me even knowing, for years.

I studied greek mythology in college because I was fascinated by it, and was floored by the parthenon, and the giant statue of Athena that stood inside, and even insisted on visiting the replica while in Tennessee for my sister’s birthday.

Coincidentally, it also turns out that she is the goddess if wisdom, arts, and crafts, so i knew she was the one for me.

Tonight, after my full initiation into the group, i went to the full moon ritual, and was asked some very prying questions by what I will refer to as the “mega crone” and I was forced to question a lot about my choices right then, in front of everyone, and ended up crying while explaining all of that to them , and not really all that well.

But i left there thinking that I needed to let go of the idea of needing to know everything, and just go with the flow.... knowledge is nice, but too much knowledge can have it’s downfalls as well. But also left me wondering how I ended up on this path.

So here i am, telling a long ass background story to get to the damn point!

I was feeling emotional after getting home, and decided to light a candle for my great aunt who is in the hospital, and try to meditate for a while.

Normally, when I try to meditate, I don’t feel anything, and also don’t normally see much, but It’s like I can envision it, even though I can’t actually see it... imagination! Which is something I had cast out of my life a long time ago as well.

So tonight i was ready. Whatever happened was going to happen.... and if grandpa communicated with me while i was meditating I would deal with the emotions and just go on. I turned on my favorite meditation video, and jumped right in... and it fuckin worked! I could feel the ground and see lights, it was so magical! I wish I could explain the trees!

Then, after i processed that I am magical, that I can truly take my own pains away, which set off a mini party if thoughts in my mind, i refocused, and realized that athena had actually been with me my whole life. She got me to grandpa somehow when he was living thousands of miles away, so that I could continue to see and feel what true love is. She was with me through the shit storm that was my youth... and stood with me as i learned to fight for myself, and get up.

It was right now that I realized I am truly magical.... i am loved.... i am perfect the way i am..... i am enough. And if anyone ever should stumble upon this ramble, and stuck with it until now.... know that you are all of those things too! And if you don’t agree, i hope maybe my path will inspire you to get to know yourself, and see what incredible, life changing things could be in store for you.

[dropintomanga]

Behind the Blog - 20 Years in the Making

5 years ago, I wrote “Behind the Blog - 15 Years in the Making.” It was a post detailing how I was diagnosed with clinical depression in 2000 and the experiences that led to me starting this blog. 

Now it’s 5 years later and I want to look back at that post a bit. I’m also going to discuss further insights about my past that I remembered and recent thoughts learned over time.

In my recent post about Komi Can’t Communicate, I mentioned my parents being worried about me having a possible communication disorder at the age of 2 and their decision to put me through special education classes. I joke that my life was doomed from the start even though it turned out I was alright. My father recently told me that when I was in pre-kindergaren, he was stalked by two men who wanted to rob him. After going on a school trip, I was dropped off by the special education class at a certain spot and my father went to pick me up. Once he did, he realized he was being followed while taking me home. Thankfully, he went inside a store with a security guard at the front door and nothing happened.

I’m really glad that nothing bad happened in front of my eyes. I don’t know how I would have processed it all. My parents have told me stories of how bad New York City was back in the 1970s’-1980s’. They have been robbed several times when they first moved to America. Before I was born, my mother was pregnant and was chased by three men who wanted to rape her. She got away, but fell down to the ground while escaping. My mother had a miscarriage as a result. The funny thing is that a few months later, she was pregnant with me.

It’s so freaking surreal to me whenever I think about that. I would not be here if it weren’t for that incident.

I also think back to that time in 2001 when I decided to be hospitalized. I told a college guidance counselor back in 2000 that I was hearing voices. That was a big reason why I stayed at the hospital. In hindsight, I was faking it. I think I just wanted attention and did it in a way that hurt everyone around me. I never heard voices at all. A thing that people with mental illness sometimes like to do is to dramatize things to get the attention of those around them. While it’s important to address their concerns, caregivers aren’t gods. They’re human beings with boundaries. Caregivers are placed with unfair expectations on handling mental illness in their loved ones. Now that I look back at the situation, I wished someone was there to shut me up in a compassionate way.

Speaking of college, there was one guidance counselor who I spoke with before I dropped out that said something that resonated with me. She said, “You know, I can see you being famous one day.” I was so caught up in my own thoughts that I didn’t pay much attention. After starting the blog, I went back to that college to attend an anime convention there and hoped to speak with that counselor again. I wanted to thank her because at the time, I felt that she was right in some way as I was going up the ranks in the manga blogging community. Unfortunately, she wasn’t working there anymore.

It’s funny because I’m not interested in chasing fame much anymore. I’m content with where I’m at.

I now want to think back to this passage I wrote in the 15-year post.

“But I’ve gone on to stay in good shape and I’m healthier than almost all of my relatives. I think it’s because deep down, I really wanted to live despite those dark desires. That or those good habits provided some physiological relief. I don’t think I’ll ever try to commit suicide. I’m too much of a coward for that. I’ve only just started to “live” a normal life honestly.

I was reading Noragami Volume 7 and it highlighted an important note about the main character, Yato. He is afraid of being forgotten. I think almost all depressed individuals have some fear of that. We want to be validated and we want people to let us know that they care. I also remember Great Teacher Onizuka Volume 17, where one of my favorite characters, Urumi Kanzaki, was going to commit suicide despite all pleas by her teacher, Onizuka, to stop doing so.

He went to great lengths to save Urumi and she realized how much he cared about her well-being. Do I want someone to sacrifice their own lives to save me? I don’t know, but I feel that I want to know that even in the darkest of moments, someone would come and physically stop me from going down a path where I never come back. In Noragami Volume 7, there was a moment where Yato saved a suicidal student and told him to never kill himself in front of him. I want to be the person to stop someone from ending their life.

It’s funny, right? I have thoughts about dying several times throughout my life, but I don’t want anyone to end their lives in front of me or other people. Maybe it’s because I don’t want them to understand how I felt. No one should. The thoughts I have can be warped and frightening to many.”

Here’s the sad thing - I considered suicide a year later after this post. I felt someone wanted me to go away for good. Someone did save me though. And then stuff happened that led me to question relationships (which thankfully got a lot better as the years went on). 

But after it was said and done, starting around 2017, I began to stop hating myself. I still have doubts from time to time and I realize that it’s okay to think about them. The world still treats people with mental illness and mental health problems like crap, so I decided to be more forward in learning how to best fight that kind of discrimination. I practiced self-compassion over self-esteem. That was the start of limiting my social media presence in an attempt to not feel pressured by external validation. This year, before the COVID-19 pandemic hit, I also stopped attending therapy with mutual agreement from my social worker and psychiatrist. I felt like I can finally start to manage things on my own. 

It took 20 years to reach that point and I have felt some shame that I’m not at the level of my peers that are the same age as me. I’m getting close to 40, but feel like a 30 year old. I try not to compare too much with other people because honestly, they probably have gone through tough times as much as I have. Maybe not to the extent of a mental illness, but certainly stuff that makes them question life.

Compared to how I was 5 years ago, I’m more reflective and compassionate. I’ve embraced all parts of my humanity. While people believe I’m a good person, I know I can be capable of hurting people in terrible ways in times of duress. I don’t have this highly inflated positive view of myself. In a way, that’s kept me grounded. I dislike it when people say that they’ll never be this way or feel that way. The blunt truth is that life will test you in so many ways and you’re going to make mistakes (sometimes horrible ones) whether you like it or not. Admitting that you’re wrong about certain things is something I wish more people were receptive to doing. Humility is truly a mind healer when cultivated properly.

I’ll end this with some lines from the video game NieR: Automata. I finally played it this year and the game left such a grand impression on me. I loved its emphasis on trying to find meaning even when everything about the world is questionable. NieR: Automata reminded me why and so many fans LOVE Japanese pop culture media. The game gets very depressing, but I found out that the game’s creator, Yoko Taro, received messages from fans who wanted to kill themselves, saying that NieR: Automata gave them hope to live. In the true ending and without giving out heavy spoilers, one character poses a question to another about the cycle of trauma happening again for a certain group of characters that went through so much due to story events, the responding character said this,

“I cannot deny the possibility. However, the possibility of a different future also exists. A future is not given to you. It is something you must take for yourself.”

I now feel that I got some strength to take a future for myself and hopefully people I care about. I finally understand what it means to take care of myself compared to 5 years ago. My “manga series” may end one day, but I’m glad to spend a good part of it writing here. I look forward to exploring myself further on this blog, thanks to you all.

[disasterdeacy]

Lavender Knots

A/N: somehow managed to get this up 4 hours before I said that I would! I’m gonna keep this AN short, but I do want to tell everyone that your recent love and support and messages have meant the world to me, and interacting with y’all has made me smile SO DAMN MUCH! Ilysm <3 Pairing: Present Day!Brian May x Young Reader Word Count: 17.7k (Its 40 pages on word lol how do you write small things?) Summary: The media is cruel, and while Y/N can deal with the pressures and nasty words, Brian doesn’t want her to have to... so, he decides to try and help her, by breaking up with her.  Warnings: A N G S T (soz), Fluff (i’m not a sadist), Smut (oh boy its nasty), Age Gap, mentions of mortality, mentions of suicidal thoughts, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it unless you’re tryna get Bri to give you a baby, in which case, you do you sis), Major FDA Violations.

Throwing down the copy of the daily mail onto your office desk with a huff, you slump in your seat, groaning and picking up your phone to see 2 text messages from Brian. What usually would’ve made your face light up with a smile makes you frown. Since the two of you had started dating 5 months previous, Brian had completely changed your life for the better. You’d practically moved in together after 2 months, not wanting to be apart for a single moment of the time that you had together. Your family and friends had accepted the relationship with mild confusion, but once they saw how much you smiled when Brian was beside you, they understood exactly how you both felt about one another and never said an ill word about the relationship. Surprisingly, Brian’s kids had been very supportive as well, they had been slightly off putting at first, but after an emergency grandkid sleepover, the 3 May children decided you were as incredible a person their father could find, welcoming into the May family with open arms. The media however... had been less than friendly. Which is why today’s Daily Mail article wasn’t exactly a surprise, yet still managed to burn a bit. No woman wants to be called, in not so harsh words, a gold digging whore, for holding her boyfriend’s hand. And based on the text messages that Brian had sent, he wasn’t taking it too well, asking if you would come to his place immediately after work. A nervous pit formed in your stomach upon receiving the message, and stayed there the remainder of the day until you arrived back at his home around 5.

“Bri? Love...” You sit your bag down, wringing your hands as you walk along the foyer, confusion etched on your face; usually Brian was waiting for you at the door.

 “In here, Y/N...” He calls from the living room. He was pacing back and forth by the fireplace for what seemed like hours now, feeling sick to his stomach. He’d been thinking all day after seeing the article—articleS. They were never ending it seemed. He’d tried to ignore them at first but.... they were starting to make sense. Who was he to hold you back the way he was? To tie you down in the worst way? He was old, ancient, dated; he couldn’t give you children, give you lifelong support and stability, couldn’t provide for you. Yes, that last thought alone was proof of how old he was, but... still. Even if you could provide for yourself financially (he had no doubts about that)—a relationship was supposed to be a partnership. Was supposed to be about helping and supporting and fulfilling one another. Any day now could be his last. Perhaps that was being a bit dramatic, but in all honesty? It wasn’t too far from the truth. How long did he have left before he lost mobility, lost his mental state, lost HIMSELF?

And you’d be stuck with him. No. No, he wouldn’t do that to you. He couldn’t. The thought was unbearable. Smiling a little when you hear his voice coming from the living room, you quickly head in there as soon as you’ve taken your shoes off. “There you are, I was beginning to think you’d ran off.”

Trekking over to him, you move to wrap your arms around him like you did every single day, only to have him flinch away and turn towards the fire, his hand on his chin, eyes glassy with the tell tell sign of unshed tears. The action sends your  stomach plummeting into your  knees, he’d never been so cold or distant, and every insecurity that you’d buried deep for so long came rushing to the surface.

“B-Bri, what’s wrong?” Your voice sounds pathetic, small, weak, and the complete opposite of your normally cheery and boisterous tone. You reach out for him unconsciously, something you were beginning to do a lot of lately, before realizing what you were doing and holding your arm firm to your side, a cold chill running up your spine despite the heat from the fire. “Please, I-I just.. you’re scaring me...”

He swallows hard, closing his eyes a little, but regretting the movement when tears spill down his cheeks. He doesn’t try to wipe them away—the least he can give you right now are his true emotions

“Y/N, I think... I think maybe we should—should take a step back. From things.”

God, he was pathetic. He couldn’t even say it. Couldn’t even give it to you straight. He loved you so much—this was the last thing he wanted! But he wasn’t good for you. That old cliché “if you love something, let it go?”. He never thought it was true. But... maybe in this situation, it was… In your relatively short life, you’d never had to experience something that had the potential to break your heart, never been subjected to a time when you could physically feel your insides disintegrating, so you didn’t know how it felt.. not until Brian’s words sunk in.

“W-what do you mean take a s-step back.. Bri..” Your hands were shaking, hell your whole body was shaking, you knew what he meant, you knew what he was saying, you just…didn’t want to believe it.

“Y-you’re not... Brian, you can’t do this…” Your voice is heavy and choked with tears, every feeling you’d been subjected to over the past 5 months was crashing through you like a goddamn cannonball, and it wasn’t a good feeling. Everything had been for nothing..

“D-do you j-just not love me? Is that it? Did y-you... was all of this a lie” You can’t even make it to the couch to sit down, collapsing onto the floor as the weight of the situation takes hold.

Brian is  shaking himself. He’s scared to touch you—scared of how you’ll react, of how HE’LL react. So he slowly sinks down to the floor next to you, sitting there, utterly defeated.

“I do love you. I love you more than anything else in my life,” His breath hitches; breaks. He tries to keep speaking.

“I love you more than anyone I’ve ever—" More tears fall, and he stares at his trembling hands.

“I’m no good for you, Y/N. Who are we—who are we kidding? You need someone else. You need things I can’t g-give you. You’re going to be 30, taking care of your boyfriend who can’t walk, can’t think for himself—will I even live to see you reach 40? Do you want to be a 40 year old woman tied down to a 91 year old?? How is that... how is this...”

His voice cuts out, and when he speaks again, it’s more than obvious how much pain he’s in.

“How could I do that to you? How could I let myself just... burden you?”

You can’t even look at him, hurt, betrayal, anger, sadness, goddamn near every emotion is washing through you now, taking your heart and smashing it against a rock. I want to be rational, to talk this out with him, to be an adult… It was obvious that he didn’t want this, that his heart was breaking just as much, if not more, that your’s…but you were just so goddamn HURT.

“Y-you said you w-would never hurt me Brian, you PROMISED that you w-would never I do a-anything to make me cry, a—" The dam breaks and you’re sobbing, hands moving to cover your face as you draw your knees closer to your chest, just trying to hide yourself away from the world, from your own embarrassment.

“I love you Brian, only I g-get to decide what’s g-good for me! I-I can’t believe you’d do this to me... a-after everything...” You feel horrible, more than horrible, because you know he means well, deep down you know that... but you can’t help it. You’re pissed, you’re hurt, and you’re not looking to spare any feelings, no matter how much you love and care for Brian.

“Fuck you Brian.. goddamnit, I gave you everything I had, and you j-just... I hate you..”

Its immature, not poetic, and certainly not something you’d ever thought you would say to him, but it’s what you were feeling, and those feelings were valid. Before you even know what you’re doing, you’re standing up on shaky legs, basically running to the door, somehow having enough of a mind to grab your purse before walking right back out into the cold London air, your tears nearly freezing against your cheeks.

Brian flinches at your words, a small sob bursting from his chest. He just sits there; why should he stop you? You hated him. You HATED him. The words kept echoing through his mind. He’d been right—he was bad for you. This proved it. He hurt everyone he ever loved. Every time he tried to do the right thing.... He’s suddenly overcome with a wave of nausea, and he fumbles for the wastebin that was luckily over to the side of the wall. As soon as he gets it in his hands, he’s throwing up into it, his stomach emptying itself. He just feels completely numb. He knows he’s still crying but he can barely feel it; can honestly barely feel anything. Not the heat of the fire, not the hard ground below him hurting his legs. All there is in his head is your words. He can’t even fucking move.

You don’t even know how long you’ve walked for, tears streaming down your cheeks. You were hurt, betrayed, gutted, and immensely guilty at what you had said to Brian. He had been through so much in his life, had lost so many people, he didn’t deserve to be told that someone hated him.. he didn’t deserve that from you, not even when he’d hurt you so badly… You knew why he had said what he did, why he wanted to end your relationship, and if you had just stayed and talked it out with him rationally, like an adult, the two of you would’ve been eating dinner together now. But instead, you’re walking up the stairs to Roger’s house, surprise etched onto your face at the fact that your feet had led you to Brian’s best friend’s door. The two of you had developed an incredible relationship over the span of you and Bri’s, and you knew that you could come to him if anything went wrong, but.. you still felt bad for doing this. When you buzz the gate, he’s outside within 30 seconds, noticing your distraught appearance and quickly ushered you inside, holding you close as he can while you cry. He asks no questions, just comforts you with his embrace before settling you into a guest room.

Brian sits on the ground for a long time—until the fire dies down at least. His phone rings several times, and he can see that it’s Roger, but he doesn’t answer. He’s literally just staring off into space. He feels pathetic and shitty and horrible—but he’s not thinking that because he feels that way. He’s thinking it in the sense of being a horrible person. He knows he should get up and brush his teeth and shower and maybe eat something, but it’s like he can’t. He hasn’t felt like this in... well, he knows when. But thinking about that makes everything worse. The thought crosses his mind that he has nothing to live for anymore, but his logical brain knows that’s not true. That it’s just the depression talking. That he still has his kids. His grandkids. Roger. Unless they all take your side. He wouldn’t blame them if they did.

There had never been a moment in your life where you’d cried yourself to sleep as fast as you did that night. As soon as your head had hit the pillow, the floodgates opened again and every horrible emotion you’d felt that day came rushing right back. You were nauseous, throwing up into the toilet of the en-suite bathroom three times before you managed to calm down. You can hear Roger downstairs, and for some reason just knowing that you weren’t alone was comfort enough. You somehow managed to crawl back into bed despite the debilitating pains in your stomach, head, and chest. This was never a situation you’d thought you’d find yourself in, not with Brian, you’d been so strong and sure in the relationship. Sure, you had only been dating for 5 months, it felt like you’d known him your whole life.. you had been waiting for a proposal any day now…but now.. now it was just over. By some miracle, you manage to fall asleep that night without any nightmares, because for once, your reality was scarier than anything your mind could dream up.

When Brian finally hauls himself up off the floor, his joints creak and bones ache. He gets rid of the mess in the wastebin, and heads upstairs to his bedroom. He showers, doing his best not to eye the razor sitting inconspicuously in the corner. He needed to shave, but didn’t want to chance anything. He wouldn’t backslide; not that far. Still, he doesn’t allow himself to eat after his shower is done. It’s some level of self punishment he’ll allow, even if he shouldn’t. His phone is still ringing off the hook so he finally answers. It’s not very polite, his telling Roger to fuck right off and stop calling him. He knows he sounds absolutely horrible, but... that’s who he was, wasn’t he? A horrible person, who didn’t deserve you in the first place, and definitely doesn’t now.

The first thing that registers when you wake up is that it’s still dark out, and your head is pounding worse than any hangover has ever caused, probably because you’d cried yourself into dehydration. Checking your phone, you’re a little shocked to see that it’s 4am, and that you had about 400 missed calls and texts from Louisa. The sight makes your  heart shatter even more, knowing that you and her father were over... Sighing, you sit up in bed, smiling a little at the Panadol and water that Roger had left by your bed before throwing it back and getting out of bed. Your legs are wobbly, but you needed to do something. You were stronger than this, you had to be the strong one in the relationship relationship, you always had been.. and when you read the texts from Louisa, that Roger had called her, that Brian wasn’t answering any of her phone calls or the door to their house, a sinking pit forms in your stomach, one that you’d only felt the time you’d had to pull your best friend out of the bathtub.. Quickly opening your Uber app, you grab my things and head downstairs, shooting a text to Roger thanking him for everything before you walk out the door, locking it behind you. You hoped that he was strong enough not to do what you were fearing, and you desperately hoped to god that the Uber driver didn’t mind breaking a few laws.

Brian is still laying curled up in bed even after he wakes up, the drapes still closed, everything dark. His stomach was screaming at him to eat something, but he didn’t think he could bring himself to if he tried. He just kept thinking about everything—your words, your crying, the look on your face. You’d been so... angry. God, it made his stomach curdle again just thinking about it. He’d left his phone unplugged, and all the ringing and messages had eventually caused it to die.

 Thankfully Roger’s London home wasn’t too far from Bri’s, and the Uber driver could obviously tell that you were distressed, and kindly stepped on it. Once you were at the front door, after a quick thank you, you shakily pull the keys from your bag, unlocking the door before going to turn off the alarm, only to realize it’d not been turned on. Furrowing your brows, you sit everything down on the dining room table before moving around the first level of the house, searching in vain to find Brian, and with every room you exited with no sign of him, the pit in your stomach grew. You don’t even know how you’d managed to climb the stairs with your legs shaking the way they were, but once you reach the upper landing, you take a deep shuddering breath and head towards Brian’s room, pausing outside the door, just trying to prepare yourself for what you might find. However, what you find is better than the alternative, but still breaks your heart; well, the shards that were left of your heart. Brian was lying still on your side of the bed, curled around your pillow, his body shaking with sobs you weren’t even sure he knew were happening.

“B-Bri.. love…” Your voice is soft, you don’t want to scare him as you tentatively approach the bed.

He barely registers your voice; it literally doesn’t even compute in his brain. It’s not until he sees you that he blinks up at you, frowning, trying to process what he’s seeing. He feels light headed honestly. He was probably dehydrated from crying and puking, and weak from having not eaten.

“I—Y/N? What’re y’doing here?” His words are literally slurred, and he’s embarrassed by how rough he must look.

You can feel the familiar sting of tears threatening to cloud your vision as you look down at Brian. He had obviously taken a shower, which was good, but he was as pale as a ghost, shaking all over, and based on the way his body was curled up against your pillow, he was just as upset and distraught as you were, probably more. Sighing, you drop to your knees beside him, brushing a shaking hand through his hair before resting it on his cheek, swallowing hard, not wanting to scare him or give him any other reason to feel shitty. “I-I couldn’t just leave you like that Bri, I was horrible to you, said things in anger that I never should’ve said... that I never meant..” Your voice cracks a little, worry and pain working it’s way back inside of your chest.

“I should’ve been m-more mature, not walked out like that.. we needed to sit down and talk this out, and instead I-I just blew up and hurt you so much…” Leaning down and place a kiss to his cheek, your tears start to fall.

“I don’t even know how to begin going and asking for your forgiveness.”

He shakes his head weakly, lightheaded as he does so. He’s shivering, freezing cold even under his thick duvet. “I d-deserve it. I deserve for you to h-hate me. I hurt you—m’not good for you, I...” He hitches out a breath, though it’s more like a sob. He curls further in on himself, party hoping you’re just his imagination; that maybe you actually do love him after all. That you can convince him that none of it matters except their love for one another.

“Oh Bri, look at me honey, please…” He doesn’t, only shoves his face further into the pillow, body shaking with sobs, the sound making your own tears fall heavily, clouding your vision.

“I love you Brian, I don’t hate you, I n-never could.. I was angry, and hurt, but I don’t hate you…” He only cries harder, so you quickly crawl into bed behind him, wrapping your arms tight around his body, pulling him as close to you as you possibly could, just wanting to comfort him.

“You don’t deserve for me to hate you, you don’t deserve for anyone to hate you honey, I love you so much, and I’m so so sorry I acted like that…” Your stomach was hurting something fierce, like 10,000,000 tiny knives of regret were stabbing you over and over.

He turns and just clings to you, sobbing into your neck, fear and anxiety and worthlessness all mixing together inside of him. He hates himself for hurting you, for clinging to you, for being so goddamn pathetic. But he’s crying so hard he can’t breathe, and he doesn’t deserve your arms around him but he somehow has them.

“I- l-love y-you” It is all he manages to rasp out between sobs, his hands clutching your back so hard he is sure bruises will form… another reason for him to hate himself.

You breathe a small sigh of relief, squeezing him tighter as you sit up against the headboard so he can breathe better, your lips pressed firmly into his hair, your hands brushing up and down his naked back.

“Shhh, it’s okay Brian, I’ve got you honey, you’re okay.” Your tears are still falling, being absorbed by his curls.

“I need you to breathe for me honey, in and out, in and out.. cmon Bri, I don’t want you passing out, it’s okay…” You start to rock him back and forth as you talk softly to him, just wanting him to calm down enough to where you knew he wouldn’t have a panic attack.

“I-I-Im s-s-so-sorr-y.” He is shivering, trying to following your breathing techniques, trying to get ahold of himself. Jesus, he was so pathetic. “I l-l-love y—" He can’t finish it, his chest clenching painfully, which scares him. He couldn’t have a heart attack now; it was the absolute worst time. So he starts frantically trying to do the breathing exercises, vision still blurry with tears.

Noticing his panicked expression, the way he’s clutching his chest, you know he was already too far gone to avoid the panic attack. “C’mon Bri, let’s get you in the shower.” The shower was the only thing that you’d found worked on him, would help him calm down.. a nice warm shower. Somehow you manage to get him out of the bed, his arms still tight like a vice around you as you try your best to get him into the walk in shower, turning it on as fast as you can, not even caring that you were fully dressed and he was naked still, more than likely from his earlier shower. “Come here love, breathe baby, look at me and breathe, you’re gonna be okay, I’m not going anywhere.. I love you.” You sit down beside him, taking his cheeks between your hands, eyes level and staring hard into his, breathing in and out to show him how to do it

He just feels like he’s spiraling. Like he can’t get anything back under control. He’s fucking terrified; he’s SURE that he’s dying. That this is it, it’s a heart attack, and he’ll be dead on the floor soon, and you’d be happy about it. And yet, the more you encourage the special breathing, the more he does it, until finally, his brain has come back down to his current state: sitting down under the hot spray of the shower, doing purposeful, structured breathing. He still feels numb, but it’s not.... everything, like it had been

“There we go honey, good job...”

You hold him close, pressing a series of kisses to his temple, his cheeks, his forehead, just trying to ground him in any way you can. His arms are still wrapped tightly around you, holding you like a vice.. you don’t even think he truly realizes he’s doing it.

“I love you so much Brian... I know I sound like a broken record, but I’m so fucking sorry, and I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to help you see how much I love you, how much you mean to me…” Your voice cracks, emotions seeping out despite how hard you were trying to push them back to focus on Brian. “Please believe me Bri, I’m so so sorry, and I love you more than anything...”

“I love you too. I love you, I love you, please don’t h-hate me, please. I know I d-deserve it, but I—I love you so much I only want what’s b-best for you.” He presses his face into your neck, kind of choking a bit on all the water streaming down onto y’all, but he doesn’t care

You turn a little to maneuver it to where the water is hitting your backs, your arms still tightly wrapped around him, head resting on his

“Shh, no you don’t Brian, you don’t deserve me to hate you, and I don’t, I could never.” You start rocking him back and forth like a child in need of reassurance and comfort, which was basically what he was now, desperate for care.

“I know you only said those things because you wanted what was best for me, but you’re what’s best for me Brian.. I was only away from you for 11 hours and I felt like a piece of my soul had been cut loose, I can’t lose you..” You let out a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions. “ H-How can I be what’s b-best for you when I m-make you feel like this!? How can I—" He swallows hard, trying to chill out, feeling humiliated that you’ve seen him like this, but knowing deep down this is what a relationship was supposed to entail; being vulnerable. If you couldn’t see him like this, nobody could. That didn’t mean he felt necessarily good about it, that the thoughts in his brain didn’t try to skew every little ounce of happiness he felt.

“How c-can I be best f-for you when I can’t even b-BE there for you?” His voice is weak and defeated, his true feelings finally coming to the surface after hours of trying to suppress them. Brian’s sobs weren’t as loud anymore, but his voice was still shaky and hitched, and it cut you like a knife to hear his words.

“Bri.. love, yes you made me feel bad, but that’s one time in a whole cornucopia of times you’ve made me feel so much better…” Reaching up, you cup his face in your hands, making him look into your eyes.

“Just because you’ve hurt me once doesn’t mean you meant to, or will do it again.. you meant well Brian, I know that.. I know that you love me and you only wants what’s best...” You try to steady your voice and keep calm, but you can’t help but sniffle at his last words, the weight of them pressing down on your very soul.

“You ARE there for me Bri, you’ve been here for me since the beginning, and I-I love you! I love you so much, please believe me…”

Tears are still falling from his red rimmed hazel eyes, though he’s not sobbing anymore.

“Y/N it’s not... it’s not about now.” He closes his eyes; he can’t look at you, too ashamed and guilty to see the tears and pain behind your eyes. “It’s about later.” He sighs. “I’m 72, Y/N. 72.”

A cold shiver runs up your spine at the implications of his words, tears springing to your eyes as well as you try to push back the thoughts you’d fought for so long.

“I-I know that Brian, I knew what I was getting into when I decided to love you...” You grasp his hand, the action shaky and unsure, your poor heart aching.

“I know we won’t have forever together, t-that I m-might only get 20 years tops with you, b-but I don’t care Bri, I would rather spend 20 minutes with you than 50 years with someone else.” The sob you’d been trying to choke back finally manages to release itself, and you have to duck your head to keep him from worrying. He already had enough to worry about without you blubbering.

“I-I love you, I love you more t-than I’ll ever be able to love anyone else, a-and I-I just, I want to spend every single m-moment we have together loving y-you.”

The older man is  quiet, listening to you. He doesn’t know what to think; what to believe. He knows his own brain—his own thoughts—are intruders. But it makes everything so much harder. He just wraps his arms around you tightly, eyes clenched shut “I’m s-sorry. You deserve better.”

His voice is quiet, hopeless. He just... doesn’t know what to do. He wants you, but feels selfish for doing so. Doesn’t want to push you away, but isn’t that the responsible thing? Or is his mind just tricking him into thinking that?

You just sob harder when he pulls you close, resting his head on yours as you bury your face into his chest. You’re clinging to him like he’s the only thing keeping you connected to gravity, because in a way he is. The two of you stay like that for a while, you sobbing, him holding onto you for dear life, but after god knows how long the water starts to run cold. Sniffling, you reluctantly pull away from Brian, standing on wobbly legs to turn the water off, clothes absolutely saturated.

“W-well, guess I don’t have to worry about washing these later.”

You try to make a joke, chuckling lightly. Brian just stares at the tiled floor of the large shower, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head. Sighing, you crouch down beside him, taking his hand in yours. “C’mon honey, let’s get you dried off and in bed while I go make you some toast okay? I know you haven’t eaten…” He never ate when he got like this, and it was something that scared you tremendously.

He sniffles, struggling and stumbling to get to his feet “Don’t wanna eat.” He’s quiet, his eyes trained on the ground

“I don’t want you to have to take care of me. Don’t wanna be a burden.” Swallowing hard, his stomach curdles again. He has to stop moving; has to balance himself against the wall, otherwise he knew for a fact that he would collapse. “I’m sorry.” He repeats again, wincing when you sigh at him.

“And I’m sorry for apologizing.” His voice shakes, he’s shivering from the cold, and you immediately head over to him, rubbing his arms with your hands, just trying to create some friction/ “I can—I’ll s-stop.” He’s a little dizzy, but still, he moves to grab two towels, one for you and one for himself.

“Here, Brian, just—just let me help you.” You rush to the door, grabbing the towels from him and wrapping him tightly in one. He winces and flinches away from you, making your stomach churn involuntarily.

Stepping  in front of him, you grab his biceps a little harder than necessary, well actually it was the proper amount of force that Brian needed to pull him out of his mind, but you still felt a little bad for the bruises you would probably use.

“Brian. Look at me, and listen to me okay?” Your eyes are hard and stern, you only want to be soft and sweet to him, but sometimes when he would get too far into his head, he needed hard. “You. Are. Not. A. Burden.. you don’t have to apologize for how you feel, you NEVER have to be sorry for how you feel... I love you Brian, I am your girlfriend, your partner in life, and I am going to stay right here, beside you, for the rest of our lives.”

His breath hitches, fresh tears somehow filling his eyes. He winces a little at your grip, but doesn’t really mind it, even if it’s bruising. He just nods, wordless. It’s silent, and then he finally stutters out a word. “O-okay.” he swallows. “I’m sorry—" he cuts himself off, wincing at his automatic apology. “I mean— I’m trying,” it’s stupid to say. He knows words are empty without action. “I love you, too.”

“I know honey, I know you’re trying.” You smile at him gently, moving your hands from his arms up to his face, thumbs rubbing the tears away from his cheeks. “I love you, and I’m going to help you okay? I’m not going anywhere, and you’re never going to be alone in this.” You sniffle, willing your tears away. He’s shivering in the cold, the fluffy towel doing nothing to warm him.

“Come on honey, come lay down.. it’s late, well, early… but, you... you need to sleep.” You grab his hands gently, bringing them to your lips to kiss. “Please?” Your words are desperate, you just want him to be okay, that’s all you ever want.

He nods, letting you pull him back into the bedroom. He’s quiet as you dry him off, his hands on your shoulders to balance himself. He feels... brittle. Like one false move and he’ll break into a million pieces. When you come back from throwing the towels in the hamper, he speaks “Will you... would you stay?”

Nodding gently, you strip out of your clothes before slipping on one of Brian’s oversized sleep shirts. “Of course honey, here...” You bring back the covers, sliding in and pulling him in beside you. “Come here Bri, let me hold you.” He nods and sniffles, wrapping him up in your arms, pulling him close to your chest.

Brian cuddles in close, clinging to you. He’s naked and cold, and essentially tries to bury himself into you and the blankets. He ducks his hands under your shirt, trying to warm them against your skin. You smelled good; smelled comforting. He lets out a shuddering breath, his body slowly warming up.

You shiver a little at Brian’s touches, smiling when he curls in deeper “There ya go baby, just let go.” You drop a kiss to his head, sighing deeply as his hands move up to cup your breasts, your heart pounding at the simple motion.

“You okay baby? What do you need me to do for you honey?” You speak gently, hands moving up and down his naked back

“I need—" He shivers, hands squeezing your breasts gently. “Need you to punish me. He murmurs the words, embarrassed. He doesn’t know how to explain it. His brain was working nonstop, all sorts of negative thoughts and horrible feelings settling in his mind. He couldn’t hurt himself—knew he shouldn’t. That’s what he used to do, when he was younger, when things got bad. But, maybe this would work.

You freeze your movements, eyebrows raising into your hairline at his words. “A-are you sure honey? Are you up for it?”

You were definitely concerned about why he was asking this of you, but you also knew that when he got into this headspace, one thing that helped bring him out was intimacy, but this? Trailing your hands up to his face, you tilt his eyes up towards you, concern written clearly on your face. “Brian, I-I need to know you’re not asking this because you think you deserve to be hurt.. I want to help you, b-but I need you to know that you don’t deserve to be harmed because of how you feel.”

He swallows hard, looking up at you warily “I don’t know about what I deserve but... it’s what I need.” He quiets.

“I need you to hurt me. I can’t do it myself, and it—It’s the only thing that... that helps,” He feels ashamed of his words; of himself. But this was the best alternative to other things. “you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

You quickly sit up, brushing your hands through his hair. “Hey, it’s okay Bri, I just—I wanna make sure you are sure and you’re okay with it.” The idea of him hurting himself made you nauseous, and if you could do something, anything... to help him feel better and more at ease, you would do. “I want to help you, wanna do whatever you need me to do honey.” You move to straddle his hips, running my hands down his chest, scraping my nails over his nipples, trying to build up to the punishment. “Now... tell me what you want baby, how do you want mommy to punish you…”

He whimpers, back arching up into your touch. He lets out a shuddering breath, trying to think.

“I—I don’t—" He swallows, throat clicking. He wants to feel something, wants something sharp to cut him out of his head

“... spank me.” He flushes, embarrassed at his request.

You can’t help but let out a deep moan at his words, your hands moving to his face to bring his lips up to yours.

“That’s what you want honey? You want mommy to bend you over her lap and spank you for being so naughty?” Speaking against his lips, you bring his bottom lip between your teeth, biting down gently. “Can’t believe you’re such a little slut for me Brian, I can already feel your cock throbbing just imagining my hand on your pretty little ass.” He whimpers, nodding quickly. “Please. I wanna—wanna feel your hands on me—' His breathing is a little shallow, his cock chubbing up despite itself. “Want it to h-hurt to sit down tomorrow. Want to have w-welts.” He’s blushing; he’s never asked for something like this from anyone before. Sure, maybe he’d been dommed, but not this.

“Oh baby, you’re gonna regret asking this...” You smirk wolfishly, sliding off of him, making sure to drag your naked cunt over his cock, pleasure and pride filling your stomach at the whimper that leaves his mouth.

“Come here slut, lay down on my legs...” He eagerly does as you say, rutting his cock against the mattress. “No sir.”

You bring your hand down hard on his ass, biting your lip at the sound the clap of skin makes. You’d dommed him before, been really rough, but never once had you hurt him because he was desperate for it. “You don’t fucking move understand? You don’t deserve to get any pleasure do you? You only get to be spanked like the little whore you are.”

 “ N—No. No, I don’t deserve it. I don’t.” He stutters out, grabbing a pillow and pulling it over to him, shoving his face into it. He clings to the fabric, spreading his legs a little, trying to get into a position he could hold. Please—Please, Y/N— Please, Miss!”

The title sends a rush of arousal in between your thighs, a small moan escaping your throat as you bring your hand down again, harder than before, smirking when he whimpers into the pillow.

“God Brian, you’re such a goddamn slut, look at you all spread out for me to spank.”

You slap his cheeks harder and harder with every go, feeling a little bad about it, about causing him pain.. but, you fucking loved it, loved how hard he was clenching the pillow

He cries out into the pillow, trembling all over, but moaning all the same. He feels messy and dirty and nasty and he loves it. “Fuck, Th-thank you, Miss. I’m a little s-slut. That’s a-all I am.”

He shifts again, trying to move further into your lap from where he was slipping a little. His legs slip open a little more, just as your hand aims for his lower cheek, and as a result, half of your slap lands across his balls. He cries out louder than before, tears springing to his eyes—and yet, he’s never been so hard in his life. “Oh f-fuck—"

Your eyes widen and your persona drops just a fraction, concerned for Brian. “Oh god, honey are you o—"

He’s whimpering and rutting again, his breathy moans going straight to your cunt. “You liked that didn’t you you little whore? You liked me slapping your balls?”

He just whimpers and nods, biting down on the pillow to stop his noises being too loud, which you were having none of. Reaching over you grab his chin and turn his face towards you, your eyes stern, voice hard as you grab hold of his balls in a grip that was just borderline mean.

“Don’t you EVER cover up your noises honey, I wanna hear how hot you are for me.” One firm smack on his ass later and his voice is choking out a sob, begging for more.

He feels dizzy, but in a better way than he had been feeling. He sobs out your name, his hips moving against his will, trying to rut his cock against your thigh. Each movement of his hips caused you to tug on his balls, which were still stinging from the slap earlier. His ass felt like it was on fire, but he loved it. “P-Please... Please!”

His whole body jerks when you spank him again, and he gasps out your name once more. “Y/N I—Oh fuck, I might c-cum—"

Pride swells inside of you, knowing that you had this effect on him, that he trusted and loved you enough to be so vulnerable with you. “Yeah? You gonna cum just from me spanking your slutty ass?”

You start to deliver blow after blow, one hard slap after another, rotating between pulling on his balls and slapping his ass. “Of course you are baby, or course you’re gonna cum just from this.. goddamnit you just love being punished by me don’t you honey, just love having your little man cunt absolutely destroyed because you know it’s what you deserve...” You’ve leaned down, whispering in his ear as you continue to smack and tug, knowing he’s close as can be, just hoping to send him over the edge.

Your final words do it, humiliation streaking through him. He lets out a sob, feeling the dirtiest he’s ever felt in his life as his hips jerk, his cock pulsing out cum messily all over your leg and the bedspread. He’s gasping for air, tears blurring his vision so much that he just closes his eyes. His hips continue to twitch, his balls pulsing in your hand.

“There ya go honey, just let go—breathe for me baby…” You run your hands up and down Brian’s back, gently scraping your nails along the slightly tanned skin to try and bring him back to earth. His entire body was shaking, and his hot cum completely coated your leg, only a few drops seemed to have gotten on the bed, which was a miracle in and of itself. You spare a glance down to Brian’s poor cheeks, wincing a bit as you take in just how red and welted they are. You’d need to get him an ice pack and some salve ASAP, but, you couldn’t move just yet, not with him clinging to your legs the way he was. “Baby, you did so good for me, I’m so so proud of you honey.. such a good boy.”

 He’s panting, trying to catch his breath, his head spinning. His ass hurts, but it feels good at the same time. No regrets. And despite his spinning head, his mind feels clearer than it has in days. “Fuck.” He murmurs, wiping his face on the pillow below him. His hand comes down to fumble at you, finally settling on your side. “T-thank you. I love you s-so much.”

 You bend over, pressing a series of kisses to his back and neck, your hands running up and down the cool skin before moving to rest on the hand he’s placed on your hip.

“I love you too Brian, so much…” Taking one last look at his red bottom, you sigh a little.

“C’mon baby, let’s get you cleaned up and then you can lie down and I’ll rub some salve over you okay? I don’t want you being in too much pain.” You make a move to stand, helping Brian do the same as you lead him to the bathroom, cleaning him and yourself up as quickly as you can before grabbing every moisturizer we own, plus making a quick get away downstairs to grab a few ice packs. Returning to the bedroom, you smile gently when you see him standing beside the bed, hands crossed in front of him, a deep red flush from his hairline to his thighs. “Okay honey, you lie down on your tummy and let me take care of you okay? Just relax and I’ll make you feel good…”

He nods, doing what you say easily, happy to follow your instructions. He lays down gingerly, wincing a little but trying to hide it; he doesn’t want you to feel bad.

He jumps at the first touch of your hand to his skin, but soon he’s sighing happily, relaxing into the mattress.

“That feels nice, love. Really good.” He moans softly, your hands lulling him into security.

 You can’t help but feel a little bad about the welts already forming on Brian’s ass, the redness making my heart clench, but seeing how calm and at ease the action had made him gives you a sense of peace... besides, if it helped him, you weren’t about to refuse him.

“If this is going to be a regular occurrence, I’m gonna have to invest in some top notch blister lotion for you honey.” You chuckle lightly, massaging the lavender lotion deep into his red skin, the sounds of his soft moans filling the room.

 He lets out a sound that’s an honest to god giggle, still feeling a little lightheaded, but this time from the subspace he was floating in.

“Maybe that would be a good investment for us, then. Though I like this...” He trails off, as if losing his train of thought, only to speak again after a long pause. “It smells nice.”

You chuckle “It does smell nice doesn’t it? Lavender helps relax you and soothes the skin, it’s exactly what you need honey.”

You keep kneading his ass for a little bit longer, smiling widely at his little noises, loving that you were making him feel good and relaxed. “You want me to get your back too Bri? Since I’m already back here.”

It just seemed logical, that you would continue the massage. It was about 5:30am at this point, and you knew we both needed to sleep, but Brian was loving this massage, and he seemed more relaxed than he had in weeks, so you weren’t about to stop now.

He pulls himself up on his elbows to look back at you, expression open and vulnerable. “You... you don’t have to.”

He feels a bit of guilt creeping in—nothing like the feelings he was having earlier, but... you’d done so much for him, and he’d done nothing for you.

You reach forward, scratching his back gently.

“I don’t mind baby, I wanna make you feel good.” You know he’s reluctant to accept, he always wants to be the one to take care of you, but he just.. he needs to be taken care of, and you didn’t mind “If you don’t want me to, I won’t Bri, but I just wanna make you feel special.” You lean down and place a single kiss to the middle of his spine, the action gentle and reassuring.

He thinks for a moment before settling back down into his pillow, nodding, his curls bouncing a little.

“Okay, love. If you want to, it would—it would feel nice.” His muscles still ached from his long period of sitting on the floor of the living room earlier.

“Thank you. I love you.” He murmurs into the soft fabric under his face, savoring the words, remembering how just a couple hours ago he’d lost the right to say such a thing.

You move your lips up his spine some more, nipping the skin just a little.

“Of course baby.. you deserve it.” You lean back, squirting some of the lotion onto his back, giggling a little when he jolts.

“Sorry, it’s a little cold.” He snorts, shaking his head against the fabric of the pillow. Shaking your own head, you start massaging his back, straddling his lower back as you work on his traps, digging in hard, working the knots out, your brows furrowing at how tense he was.

“Oh my god Brian, you’re so tense.. I’m gonna have to start doing this more often.. can’t have you getting knots like these on tour.”

He grunts a little at your ministrations—they kinda hurt, but in the best way. Just like earlier.

“Well, I’m an old man, lovely. I’m surprised my entire body isn’t one big knot.” He stretches a little, his muscles rippling under his skin, under your hands. “They work themselves out on tour, mostly. At least I’m moving around on stage. Rog has to sit most of the time.”

You have to bite your lip at the feeling of his muscles moving and tightening underneath your hands, your naked cunt still pressed firmly against his lower back. You were praying, for the first time in years, that he couldn’t feel your wetness, that he wouldn’t be freaked out by you being turned on by this.

“If you were one big knot, I’d spend everyday unfurling it for you.” Leaning down, you place a kiss to the back of his head, nuzzling his silver curls just a tad.

“You’re just gonna have to bring me with you to be your personal masseuse then.. I don’t want you “working out” your knots in stage, you need to be cared for... tenderly…”

“Personal masseuse hmm?” He chuckles softly, sounding thoughtful.

“Sounds like that’s a job that benefits you more than it does me.” He teases lightly; it felt like every nerve of his was alight, feeling every touch of yours—and he did mean EVERY touch. Besides, he knew by now what you sounded like when you were turned on

“Still, I’d be more than happy to offer you the position. You’re more than qualified, you know.”

Chuckling lightly at his words, you move your hands down further on his back, closer to where you were straddling him, yet you were still leaned over, your lips presses against the back of his neck.

“Yeah? Am I just that good or are you trying to butter me up?” He adjusts himself, bucking up into you just a little, causing your clit to rub deliciously against his back. The resulting whimper was one that you couldn’t keep back, and anyway, your mouth was so close to his ear there was really no sense in you trying to hide it... besides, you wanted him to know now, wanted him to know that you wanted HIM.

He groans at the noise you make; at the soft, warm slickness of your cunt against his skin

“Well I’d say you’re the best damn masseuse I’ve ever had, love. You’ve just got a.... unique touch.” He smirks to himself at his dumb innuendo

“.... here’s an idea. How’s about a head massage?”

You stop your movements, sitting up just a little bit as confusion washes over you at his words…you think you know what he’s saying, but.. you’re not entirely sure “H-head massage?”

You hitch out a gasp as he bucks his back again, your clit caught between his skin and your own. “I-I can g-get the head scratcher if you want honey, if that’s what you n-need.” Your head lolls forward, hitting his upper back, a breathy moan escaping your mouth.

He laughs before wriggling himself around under you. You climb off him in confusion, your brows arched at him. He rolls onto his back for tugging at you again.

“Okay, come back.” You straddle his hips, and his hands settle on your waist

“No, up here.” He tugs at you, urging you further up his body, a little smirk on his face.

“You can put your hands in my hair the way I like, but I want you—" You’re straddling his stomach now, and he pouts, trying to get you up to his face. “—closer.”

You raise your eyebrows, smirk wide on your face when you finally understand what he wants. “Oh really? How much closer?”

You slowly drag my pussy along his stomach, inching your way towards his chest. “Here?” He pouts and shakes his head, pulling you closer to his face. “Hmm... here?”

You slide up closer, your legs over his shoulders now.

He hums as if considering it, his hands squeezing your ass as he arches his neck to press a gentle kiss to one of your thighs.

“Well I’ll admit, I like it. But I think I’d like you even closer.” He smiles when you pretend to act surprised, and he looks up at you through his lashes, Hazel eyes wide and innocent.

“What? You don’t want to be closer?” He lets his head flop back down against the pillows, sighing wistfully.

“Wouldn’t wanna make you do anything you don’t wanna do.”

 You hum in false consideration, burying your hands in his hair, your fingers locking into a few of his curls, tugging gently.

“I mean... I GUESS I can move a little closer…” You do just that, not giving him any warning before you settle your cunt right on his mouth, groaning at the friction.

“T-this close enough f-for you baby?”

He moans, the sound still loud even though it’s muffled by your cunt. His hands move to clutch at your hips, holding you down firmly so he can start licking over your folds. He’s eager and quick to find your clit, latching on and sucking on it while his tongue flicks against the little nub. You tasted so fucking sweet—he wanted more of it

The noise that escape your mouth at his ferocity and eagerness is borderline obscene.

“F-fuck Brian! Oh baby, y-you, FUCK!” You have to move one of your hands to the headboard to keep myself upright, your orgasm already fast approaching thanks to the sensitivity of your clit from your grinding earlier.

“C-cmon Bri, y-you can do b-better than that honey, e-eat me like you mean it.” You loved talking to Brian like this, it always made him go harder and be more intense.

Brian lets out a noise akin to a growl at your teasing words, his teeth brushing over your clit gently before he tugs you closer to him, his tongue pressing into you as deep as he can get it while his long nose nudges against your clit. He moves his head back and forth quickly, curls bouncing, one hand moving from your hip to slap your ass hard. He wants you to cum on his tongue; wants to have you soak his face; wants to taste you for hours.

You’re gasping for breath as he slaps your ass, both of your hands now clenching the headboard so hard that your knuckles were white. Brian’s nose bumps your clit as his tongue digs hard inside of you one final time before the dam breaks, and your orgasm hits you like a goddamn truck. “B-Bri—o-oh my god!” His groans send vibrations through your clit and up your body, pulling whimpers from your mouth as you ride his face, riding your orgasm out as long as you can.

He makes a desperate sound, licking through your folds over and over again, taking everything you have to give him. His hands move your hips to help you ride it out, making you grind smoothly onto his face. He continues until your grip in his hair turns to pushing away, and only then does he pull away, heaving breaths in. Still, he doesn’t let you get far; pressed hot, sucking kisses over the tender skin of your pale inner thighs. He has his eyes shut, a dreamy sort of smile on his face. He loved eating you out; not only did he love pleasing you, but he always actually enjoyed it, too

You all but collapse against the headboard, your  hands gently holding onto his hair as you try and catch your breath.

“B-Bri, I-I.. fuck honey…” Chuckling lightly, you sit up and gaze down at him, a soft and pleased smile on your face. “Help me lie down please? I-I don’t think I can move my legs.”

Brian tosses his head back at your words, laughing joyfully

“Well then that’s a job well done on my part, yeah?” You tug his hair pointedly, and he hushes up, moving to help you lay down beside him. Once you’re all comfy, he curls up around you, on his side. He settles a large hand onto your stomach, splaying his fingers out. He swore if he focused hard enough he could feel your still racing pulse under your skin.

“Thank you for the head massage.”

Burying your face in his neck, you let out a bright laugh, shaking your head at his words. “I’m more than happy to give you a head massage every single day for the rest of time if you want.”

You press a kiss to his neck before sighing and burying yourseld further into the pillows, winding your arms around his shoulders, bringing him closer so he can rest his head on your chest. It’s comforting, being this way with him, and it almost makes you forget the intensity of earlier.. but not completely.

“Ya know, we’re gonna have to talk about what happened earlier right? I think it’s safe to say that we’re not breaking up.. but, we do need to talk about everything…” As much as you don’t want to... but, you were adults and needed to communicate like them.

He tenses at your words, anxiety cutting through his stomach sharply. But he tries to ignore it; to breathe out long and slow and nod

“I know. I know we do.” He’s quiet for a moment before speaking again. “I’m sorry.”

You give him a squeeze, sighing along with him.

“I know honey, I know you are. And there’s nothing for you to be sorry for. You have valid feelings and reasons to be upset and worried.” Your voice is light, you weren’t scared anymore, you knew we would be and stay together… but, you still needed to talk

“You do still want to be with me right? I know that’s probably stupid to ask, but, I just want to make sure that you still want this.. to be with me, have a life with me.”

He’s quiet for a long time after your question, thinking about how to answer. It’s only when he feels you tensing up that he realizes he’s been silent much too long. He rubs his hand over your side, voice soft when he finally speaks, his stomach fluttering nervously

“Y/N, I want to be with you for the rest of my life. No matter how short of a time that will be,” He sighs, “That’s what’s so scary.”

Closing your eyes, you breathe a sigh of relief, relaxing completely against Brian’s body.

“I want to be with you for the rest of your life too Brian, and I-I know that might not be the most lengthy time.. but, it’s still time that we’ll have together, a chance to be with one another until we,” You release a shuddering breath, not wanting to imagine a future without Brian in it, but knowing that in the next decade or so… it could happen.

“But that’s in the future.. and, I could marry someone my age and them die the day after our wedding, or have them develop cancer 5 years into our marriage.. we aren’t guaranteed tomorrow Brian, Hell, I could die on my way to work in the morning... it’s not about how much time we have with someone, it’s about why we do with the time we have.”

He swallows hard, nodding once more.

“I know... I know, you’re right. It’s just... well, no one likes discussing their own mortality I suppose.” He sighs, reaching blindly for one of your hands to hold.

“I should have... have trusted your opinion. It’s not that I didn’t or don’t, I just... I want you to be happy and taken care of. And I’m always worried I won’t be able to—I know someday I won’t be here. And I just... I don’t know. It was stupid I suppose” He drops his head, laughing humorlessly. “If it was what you were feeling, it’s not stupid Brian.. you’re not stupid for being scared, or worrying about me.. it makes me feel loved and cared for, which is all I know you want for me.. I trust you, love you, and appreciate beyond belief the fact that you care so much about me and my well being, that you were willing to sacrifice your happiness...” You squeeze the hand resting on your stomach, wanting to provide him with just a small ounce of comfort.

“You’ve made me so happy just in the short time we’ve been together.. like, I swear to god Brian it feels like you’ve shoved 10 years of love and happiness into 4 months, and—god, I just—I love you so much..”

  He feels a little bit of relief at your words; that you weren’t still angry with him. Sure, maybe your “I hate you” still rang in his head, but he knew it would slowly fade if he gave it time. He brings your hand up to his lips to kiss it softly

“I love you, too, Y/N. More than anything.” His words are quiet and reverent, like a prayer.

You smile gently at him, leaning forward to drop a kiss to his forehead, still feeling absolutely horrific for what you’d said to him, he didn’t deserve that…

“Bri…” You choke back a shuddering breath. “I’m so sorry for what I said to you.. y-you didn’t deserve to have me tell you I hate you, especially when I could never, EVER, hate you. You’ve given me nothing but love and understanding, care and affection... and I-I’ll spend the rest of time reconciling what I said to you…”

He nods, not wanting to think about it, but knowing he had to. “It’s alright, Y/N.”

His voice is still quiet; he doesn’t want you to be upset. He doesn’t want you to beat yourself up over it. He’d hurt you, and you’d said it, and it was all.... in a rush of emotions… something he definitely understood, and he couldn’t fault you for it.

“It’s okay, love.” He pulls away from you just a little, tugging at the covers “Let’s just go back to bed, yeah?”

You still feel like a shit girlfriend, but you know he doesn’t blame you, you know he isn’t holding it against you, and you’re 100% positive that he knows he didn’t mean it...

“Okay, yeah.. bed does sound good.” You allow him to cover you up with the blanket, snuggling up against him.

“Rog’s guest bed is comfortable, but the best bed in the world could feel like a goddamn bed of rocks when you’re not there with me.”

He laughs a little at your words, but then frowns.

“Oh, I should...” He sits up, but makes sure the covers stay tucked over you.

“I’ll be right back, okay? I need to call him. I sort of... yelled at him, earlier.” He barely remembers doing so, but he knows he did.

You try your best to stay awake while Brian calls Roger, but the emotional and physical drainage of the day wacks you in the goddamn face, and before you know what’s happening, you’re falling asleep to Brian’s sheepish voice on the phone with Roger. Brian returns to bed about 20 minutes later, after a rather irritated Roger had given him a dressing down that only his mother’s could rival. He appreciated what his best friend had done for you beyond measure, that he had taken you in and made sure you were safe… he could never repay him for that, and the drummer would never ask him to do so. Curled up in bed next to you, Brian falls asleep in no time, his heart finally healing from the gash that he had inflicted on himself earlier that day. He sleeps for a while, finally waking up around 11:30. So, about 5 hours. Not bad. He’s surprised when he finds you still asleep next to him, though I guess you’d been awake just as long as he had. He lays there for a little bit to wake up more before stretching and getting out of bed. He throws on a pair of underwear and a cozy robe and slippers, trying to keep quiet so not to wake you. Then he sneaks downstairs to the kitchen, digging in his fridge to find something to cook for breakfast, he just felt like he still had a lot of making up to do.

You wake up to the smell of breakfast, tea to be more precise, being made. The smell brings a smile to your face and you roll over and stretch widely, groaning a bit. Grabbing your phone as you sit up, your eyes widen a tad when you see that’s it’s close to noon, and that you have approximately 1350 missed calls and texts from various members of the May and Taylor family. After taking a bit of time to respond to Emily, Jimmy, and Louisa, reassuring them that you and their father were completely fine, you put on a robe and my, well technically they were Brian’s, house shoes and head downstairs. Brian is stood in front of the stove, humming as he cooks, the sight brings a smile to my face as I walk towards him, wrapping my arms around his middle “Mmmm what did I do to deserve this?”

He smiles when he hears you come in; relaxes back into your touch. He chuckles at your words.

“Hmm? Well, you deserve this every day just for existing.” He pauses, flipping over the pancakes he was cooking.

“But specifically? I think what I put you through last night is reason enough for a big, yummy breakfast.” He frowns, sighing, looking down at the pan.

“Although apparently my waffle maker is broken. I guess it’s about time. I think I’ve had that thing since the early 90’s, it’s probably a fire hazard.”

Your eyes widen dramatically and you smack his stomach.

“Brian! You’re an international rock legend, you have more money than the bloody queen, and you’ve been using the same waffle machine for 30 years?” You laugh loudly into his back, squeezing him tightly*

“Could you imagine the headline? Legendary Queen Guitarist and Astrophysics Legend Brian May burns down multimillion-dollar home in Waffle Machine electrical malfunction.”

 He grins, shaking his head, his curls brushing your face.

“Hey, it was a great waffle maker! Besides, they get better with age, I’ve been told. There’s more flavor.” You make a disapproving sound and he grins “Well, Anita and I did have a newer one, but she took it with her. It’s not like I needed it.”

You chuckle and give him one final squeeze, pulling your phone out of the pocket of my robe “YOU got better with age, WINE gets better with age, CHEESE gets better with age… Not waffle makers babe…” Opening up the Postmates app, you tease him while and ordering a waffle iron from Waitrose.

“There, got one on the way now, hopefully one that won’t set your house on fire and kill us all.” You reach up and peck his cheek, showing him the delivery notification.

He pouts when he sees the notification, but leans into your kiss.

“Well I’ll pay you back for that, I swear.” He turns back to the multiple pans on the stove.

“Could you get out some plates? And maybe some drinks? Mimosas sound good, if you’re up for it.”

“You will NOT pay me back for that! A £30 waffle iron pales in comparison to all of the things you’ve given me. Consider it a mutually beneficial gift.” You slap his ass and head to get the plates and cups out, moaning in appreciation of his suggestion for mimosas.

“God yes, mimosas sounds incredible, I’ll make a pitcher?” You shoot him a look of questioning, smiling when he nods. It doesn’t take long for you to run downstairs and get a bottle of Moët, aka the only champagne that Brian drank.. a little cliche but definitely something that made you smile. Bouncing up the stairs, you hyperventilate dramatically, leaning against the fridge

“Okay, with pulp or without?”

By the time you come back up, he’s starting to plate the food. He scoffs at your question. “In mimosas? No pulp please.” You grumble something about him being picky, which makes him laugh.

“Yes mum, I’ve always been picky. That’s what you get with me.” He carries the plates to the little dining area still within the kitchen, before going to get things like syrup and jam and butter.

You shake your head at him, pouring the orange juice into the pitcher, followed by some ice cubes, and the champagne, jumping when the cork pops.

“Ya know, I’m never gonna get used to that.” You mumble it to yourself, but Brian laughs and drops a kiss to your cheek when he passes.

“I guess I’m just going to have to get used to your pickie little ass then hmm? If I’m gonna deal with you for the rest of time, I should get used to the fact that you only like no pulp orange juice and chilled, but not cold, cheese...” You raise your eyebrows at him as you put the pitcher on the table before taking a seat beside him.

He pouts. “Cold cheese is too hard and dulls the flavor, but warm cheese is...” He shudders, before taking his glass from you. “Chilled is the happy medium.” Brian winks at you before sipping his drink. “Delicious. And I hope breakfast suits you. The pancakes have a little cardamom in them this time.”

You give him a look of disbelief, smiling before cutting one of the fluffy pancakes and sticking it in your mouth, groaning in pleasure at the taste.

“Jesus Christ Brian, these are amazing, thank you.” You lean over and peck his lips, mouth still full of pancake.

“I think you should hang up red and just become my personal chef...” You wriggle my eyebrows at him, taking a big bite, throwing your head back while moaning in pleasure, licking the fork.

He snorts. “I wouldn’t make much of a personal chef if all I can really make is breakfast food.” You give him a look and he grins.

“Alright, and noodles. Listen, I lived with three other men most of my life and two of them couldn’t even cook an egg. John was wildly talented in the kitchen, so I didn’t have to be anything special.” He takes a bite of his own, groaning a little.

“That IS good....”

“Told ya so.” You send him a wink, eating as fast as you could, going back for seconds within 10 minutes of sitting down.

“Don’t you dare say anything.. I’m a growing girl, and you made wayyyy too many pancakes for me to only have 3.” You pour some syrup on them, your tongue sticking out in concentration Brian grins and takes a bite of his own food. “I made more because I knew you’d eat them. Plus, who doesn’t love leftover pancakes.” He shrugs.

“I don’t have anything to do today, miraculously. If you don’t either, maybe we could just... have a day to ourselves?” It was rare that the two of you had that, even on the weekends. But the tour was on a little break, and Brian was trying to make the most of it.

“That sounds amazing Bri.” You smile over at him, taking another bite, happiness flooding your body just thinking about the possibilities of what the two of you could do with a whole day to yourselves.

“What do you wanna do? As long as I get to sit in your lap for a majority of the day, I don’t give a shit.” You loved, and I repeat, LOVED sitting in Brian’s lap.. it just.. made you feel safe and loved, plus it didn’t hurt that he usually ended up with a boner, and you usually ended up face down on the couch while he fucked you relentlessly.

He shifts in his seat at your words, smiling a little. Was he already horny just from those words? Yes. Listen, he might be an old man, but his cock still tried to be 20 years old…

“Well we can certainly do that, love. I was thinking of maybe watching a movie or something, and eating ourselves silly, and...” He sighs.

“Well maybe that sounds a bit boring. I just thought we could spend some time together. I miss you, when you’re gone.”

“ Aww, Bri…” You set your fork and knife down, scooting your chair back so you can climb over into his lap. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you lean  forward to press a series of kisses to his cheeks and forehead.

“I miss you too when you’re gone.. more than you know…” You sigh, remembering how sad you’d been when he’d gone off on the first leg of the tour, leaving you all alone in the big house.

“Wish there was some way I could come with you, the bed is just so empty and cold when you’re not here with me.”

 He looks up at you sharply, arching his brows at your words

“You—You’d want to come?” He honestly hasn’t thought so. Not because of anything you’d done, but just because you had your own life and career you loved, and touring was hectic. It was a hard life to live; always on the go, never any sleep, night after night. But it was his passion and he loved it. But again, he knew it wasn’t for everyone.

 You stammer a little at his words, slightly embarrassed. Sure you’d desperately wanted to go with him when he left on tour.. but, you’d never brought it up because you didn’t want to make him feel like he HAD to bring you.

“I-I mean, I’d like to.. but, I understand if you wouldn’t like that! You’ve been doing this for 50 years, and you probably have a set way of doing things, and I’d probably just get in the way.”

Biting your lip, you shake your head.

“I have 51 days of vacation from work, a-and I could always use that, but…” You chuckle, scratching his head. “I don’t wanna make you feel like you have to let me.”

 His breath leaves his chest in a big huff, hazel eyes wide “51 days of vacation?? How???” You shrug and he shakes his head.

“Okay, well, we’re definitely talking about that later, but...” He smiles up at you.

“Of course I’d want you on the road with me. You might get sick of it, but you could always go back home if that happens. I—I’d love it if you were there. And I know Rog and Adam would like you there too, and the crew won’t mind as long as you don’t sabotage anything.” He winks.

You breathe a sigh of relief, smiling before pressing your lips to Brian’s, tasting the maple of the syrup he’d just eaten.

“Well, I can’t promise that I won’t destroy the dressing room with you...” You bite his lip gently, smirking when you feel his cock thickening under your ass.

“But are you sure? I don’t want to be in the way or do anything that could cause people to be uncomfortable., it’s YOUR space, somewhere you’re most at ease in your element.”

 “It IS my space, and my world. But I’d like to show it to you and share it to you. I want to share everything with you…” He’s quiet, voice open and innocent.

“I’ve never been able to share it with someone I loved before. Chrissie never liked it, Anita already had her own stage... It’s something I love and I’m proud of and I enjoy, and I’d only love it more if you were there.” Though his words are conversational, he’s gently grinding his hips up into your ass, lids fluttering at the feeling.

Your eyes close at the feeling of him beneath you, your breath hitching in your throat.

“I-I would love to do that Bri.. it s-seems so fascinating and fast paced.. I-I think I would really like it.” You open your eyes, hands going into his hair, tugging his lips towards yours, groaning when his arms tighten around your waist, holding you close.

“Besides, I really wanna fuck you against an amp…it’s not fair how goddamn hot you look on that stage.”

He laughs, wrinkling up his nose a little.

“Fuck me against an amp? That doesn’t sound very comfortable.” He teases, cheeks flushed a little at the thought. He always got amped up after shows, his adrenaline pumping. The thought of fucking you after coming off stage, the crowd still roaring.... fuck, he wanted that.

Noticing the blush on his face and chest, you can’t help but smirk, leaning forward to lick a stripe from his Adam’s apple to his ear, loving the way he shuddered under you.

“No? Well... I guess I can just take care of myself backstage if you don’t want me to fuck you.”

You love teasing him more than should probably be allowed, the way he would stutter and blush, and sometimes just absolutely lose control and fuck you senseless… it was a nice game of roulette.

He clenches his jaw, growling a little

“No you won’t. You’ll wait for me to be done performing like a good little girl.” His hands move to your ass, squeezing gently.

“You’ll wait as long as it takes and you won’t touch yourself.” He hums softly, as if thinking.

“Sometimes I’ll practice beforehand in my dressing room. I’ll turn up the volume and let you ride the amp, if you’re that desperate.” Bingo.. that’s exactly what you had been hoping for.. God, you loved it when he was dirty and degrading with you.. usually he didn’t do this, he felt bad for it.. but fuck did you love it. Biting your lip, you start to grind yourself against his cock, trying to look as innocent as possible.

“But what if I don’t wanna be a good girl daddy? What if I wanna be a brat and make you mad? What if that’s what your baby girl wants?” You have to admit.. riding his amp.. feeling the vibrations from red.. god, it was unlike anything you’d ever imagined.

He slaps your ass, jaw clenching.

“Then you can have your own fucking fingers, and I won’t touch you.” He arches a brow at you. “That’s what you want, right? To get off whenever you want?”

A shocked gasp escapes your mouth at his smack, arousal folding your cunt. “N-no, wanna get off with you, wanna have you fuck me until I can’t walk anymore daddy...”

You clench your eyes shut when he smacks your ass again, a small whimper breaking free. “But I-I wanna be naughty too daddy, wanna be a brat.”

“Well naughty girls don’t get this fat cock.”

You whimper and he cocks his head to the side.

“Maybe I’d fuck your throat. Use you, and then leave you be.” He sighs.

“Because no matter how bad you are, I suppose I can’t find someone else. And I’ve got to get off some way.” He says the words lightly, sighing as if put out, but he squeezes your hip gently, hoping to get across that it’s part of this game you’re playing. That he’d never dream of fucking someone else; never want to. You were it for him, and he knew that you knew that.

You’re genuinely surprised by his words and how insanely hot they’re making you.

“No, daddy, no I’ll be good for you, I promise, d-don’t want you going to find someone else, o-only want you to use me as a cum dumpster daddy.” You whimper loudly, grinding harder, loving the way his robe was rubbing you.

“Only want you to use me to fill up with your cum.. p-please daddy I’ll be good for you, I’ll take every drop.”

He is absolutely breathless, your words making him feel hot all over.

“Jesus, Y/N…” He swallows hard, moaning a little as your roll your hips against his.

“Well you’re not being very good right now, are you? Grinding against me right here in the kitchen. Naughty little thing.”

You bite your lip, hands tightening in his hair.

“I-I’m sorry daddy, I’ll be good, b-but your c-cock is just so fucking addicting, and I n-need you!” You halt your grinding even though you know you’d catch more flies with honey than vinegar.

“W-will you pl-please fuck me daddy? P-pretty p-please? I’ll be so good for you, I-I promise.”

He arches a brow, leaning back in his chair.

“Get off my lap.” His voice is more even than he thought it would be, and he’s thankful for it. You don’t move and he smacks your ass, voice hardening. “I said, get off my lap, Y/N.”

You know that your eyes are probably as wide as saucers, your breath catching in your throat at his harshness, but, you do as he asks, stumbling off of his lap, falling to the ground in your haste to move.

“Shit, I-I’m sorry daddy, I-I didn’t mean to make you mad... I’ll be good I p-promise.” You scramble to get up, only wanting to do whatever you can to please him, to make him know that you would be good.

Brian swallows hard, his head a little dizzy from how much blood was rushing to his cock. Jesus, he was so turned on it wasn’t even funny. And you hadn’t said no, or safeworded out. You were a dream. He scoots his chair back from the table before gesturing to the empty spot in front of him. “Take off your robe and bend over the table. Legs spread.”

You quickly do exactly what he says, shakily taking off your robe and throwing it on the chair you’d previously vacated, leaving you stark naked in front of him. You’re surprised that your legs are actually working, and you stumble your way to the table, bending over exactly as he’d requested, your naked cunt and ass on full display.

“N-now what daddy?” You were so eager to please him, and GOD was this a stark contrast to last night’s events. But that’s what you loved about your relationship with Brian... it was never the same thing, always evolving and always changing.

 He bites his lip, hands coming up to palm your ass before spanking it, watching it jiggle.

“Fuck you look so good like this, honey.” He tugs his robe open, leaning back in his chair and starting to play with his cock.

“What do you want, baby girl?”

You don’t think you’ve ever been so goddamn turned on in your ENTIRE life, the way he was treating you, how rough and dominant he was being? You’d never seen this side of Brian and you were praying to god you never had to go without it ever again.

“W-want you to be rough with me daddy, want y-you to fuck me until I can’t w-walk and c-cum inside of me please” You whimper when he spanks you again, your cunt leaking heavily. “Want you t-to fill me up, I NEED your cum d-dripping out of me please daddy, I’ll do a-anything.” You knew that you should be embarrassed by your begging and desperation.. but you weren’t, not even close.

“God, you’re a whore.” His words are harsh, but his tone is impossibly fond. He sighs, moving his fingers to your dripping cunt, rubbing through your folds.

“You’re absolutely soaked.” He pulls his fingers away before giving your cunt a gentle slap, but a slap nonetheless, much like the slap you’d delivered to his balls the night before.

“O-oh! G-god—daddy please, need your cock!” Your head is firmly placed on the table, hands grasping the corner of the wood as hard as you can without hurting myself.

You had never been so desperate before, usually you were a champion for as much foreplay as humanly possible, but for some reason his attitude and words were just causing you to have a fucking aneurysm.

“Fuck me l-like the dirty little fucking w-whore I am daddy, need y-you to breed me and teach me a goddamn lesson!”

“Breed you?” His voice cracks a little, and he stands, palming your ass, spreading it and your cunt open,

“Want me to fuck a baby into you?” He doesn’t know why he’s saying it, especially when he knows he more than likely can’t do that.

“I’ll bring you on tour with me just to fuck you full of cum every night.” His voice is hoarse as he steps closer, his cock brushing your thigh.

Your noises are pathetic, desperate and wanton.. the kitchen sounds more like a bordello at this point.

“Y-yes Brian, p-please fuck a baby in me daddy, wanna be so full of your cum, and t-then full with y-your baby!” The two of you hadn’t exactly discussed this aspect of your relationship but... you wouldn’t complain if it happened.

“I-is that a promise daddy? You promise to fuck me hard as full every night before and after? I wanna b-be dripping with your cum w-while you’re on stage p-performing for thousands.. me-meanwhile I’m backstage, your cum running d-down my leg...” You press your ass into him, wiggling a little, just trying to get some relief.

He just pushes your legs further apart, making you rest completely against the table. He slips a hand up to your shoulders, pressing against you while his other hand wraps around his cock. He strokes the head up and down your folds, shuddering a little at the feeling.

“Only if you’re good for me, baby girl. You can have all the cum you want as long as you’re good.” He murmurs, teasing at your entrance.

You shudder completely at his words, at the tone of his voice, how his hand feels splayed completely across your back, the way his breath is hot on your neck.

“I-I’ll be good! I-i promise daddy, I’ll be s-so good for you.” You’re near tears at this point, just so incredibly desperate for his cock to be inside you that you can’t control your emotions anymore.

“P-please n-need to feel your cum s-seeping out of me daddy, please, n-need your baby inside of me...”

He can’t take it anymore—shoves himself inside you with one quick stroke and doesn’t let up, not letting you adjust. He just holds you down on the table, one hand on your neck, the other gripping your ass, slapping it every now and then as he absolutely rails you. He doesn’t know where his energy is coming from, but he’s fucking you hard, as if his life depended on it.

“Fuck, your greedy little cunt is taking me so good. You’re such a fucking slut—"

The little scream you let out at his ferocity and sudden intrusion would be enough to garner attention from neighbors if it hadn’t been lunch time on a Thursday. Clenching tightly around his cock, your hands grip the table like it’s the only thing on earth that can keep you from disappearing into the atmosphere. “F-fuck—daddy, y-you’re s-so f-fucking big!” You somehow manage to hitch out the words, your face firmly smashed against the overly expensive wood of the table. Our breakfast was still lying right beside you while Brian went to town on your cunt. He’d never been this hard and rough, but you wanted more.

“C-cmon daddy, y-you can do b-better than that! F-fuck you’re little g-girl’s cunt like you m-mean it!”

 He slaps your ass again, thrusting somehow harder, putting his whole weight into it, grinding a little into you each time. “You’ll fucking take what I give you.” He growls, his hand moving from your neck to your hair, tugging on it, making you arch your back a little.

“Wish I could tie you up all day—leave you open and wanting for me. I can just use you whenever I want. Make a mess of you.” The noises filling the kitchen are obscene, his hips crushing against your ass, going so hard that his balls are swinging to slap against your clit.

 You’re already so close, his cock was pressing deliciously into your g-spot, his balls slapping your clit at a speed and harshness that was sending you closer and closer to tipping over the edge.

“W-want that so much d-daddy, wanna h-have you u-use me whenever you w-want!” You’re trying your best to push away your orgasm, not wanting to cum just yet, and knowing that he probably wouldn’t let you, you had to be good for him, had to do what he wanted…

“D-daddy, I-I’m so close c-can I c-cum all over your cock? P-please daddy?”

 Brian hauls you up a little by your hair, just to let his hand slip over your throat, holding you there, making you balance yourself at an angle where all your weight is essentially onto his cock. Still, he pounds into you, eyes sweeping over the scene you make in front of him.

“You wanna cum already? What a little whore you are.” He makes a disappointed sigh, tutting at you.

“Fine. Cum if you need to. But I’m not stopping.”

The new angle somehow sends him deeper into your cunt that he’s ever been before, his tip prodding your cervix.

“C-cumming for you d-daddy—" You gasp out, his hand closing a little tighter on your throat as you do so, your head leaning back to rest on his shoulder as your orgasm hits you, the intensity of it causing you to genuinely feel like you’re passing out, and you genuinely think you blackout for second.

He curses up a storm as you cum, but doesn’t let up his thrusting. He just plunges himself over and over into you, biting at your neck and shoulder as he lets out strangled moans. He holds you up against him, one hand on your neck, the other on your hip “There’s my naughty girl—just can’t fucking help yourself, can you? God, I can feel you dripping down my balls, even. You’re so dirty.”

 His incessant pounding brings you back to earth, your overly sensitive cunt clenching around his cock again and again.

“I-it’s all for you daddy, m-my cum I-is all yours!” You reach behind you, grasping onto Brian’s neck to try and hold yourself up a little. You can feel his cock grinding and bumping your cervix with every thrust, the noises bouncing off of the overly large kitchen making your cunt tingle even more. You were faster approaching another orgasm, and you knew he was close too, but you didn’t want this to end.

His hands moves from your hip to your clit, rubbing the slick little nub quickly. You gasp and try to arch away from the touch, oversensitive, but you’re literally impaled on his cock. You can’t really move, and he knows it

“Fucking take it, Y/N. You’re gonna take it, and you’re gonna cum again, and maybe then—maybe then I’ll give you want you want.” God, he was so close, his balls tight against his body. It was taking all he had to hang on.

“Y-yes sir, I-I’m g-gonna—" You cut yourself off with a scream, cunt spasming, ejaculation shooting from your pussy, covering Brian’s cock, his thighs, god y-you’d just fucking squirted all over him, in the KITCHEN. It was just as intense as the first orgasm, probably because of how insanely sensitive you already were, your cunt holding his cock hostage inside, your walls tightening around him, the only thing keeping you standing being his arms which were tight around your neck and stomach.

“Oh, fuck—yes, there’s a good girl.” He growls out, eyes rolling back in his head as you squirt all over him, drenching his cock. It’s what he’d wanted; what he knew he could get you to do if he tried had enough. You’d done it once before, completely on accident, and you’d been completely embarrassed and didn’t want to talk about it. But to him? God, it was the hottest thing he’d ever felt. And to feel it around his cock? Well needless to say, he was cumming pretty quickly soon after, still pressed right up against your cervix, coating your insides as his balls pulsed. He moans into your neck, legs trembling, but managing to keep you both upright.

“T-there ya go d-daddy, o-oh my god, f-fuck daddy, f-fill me up!” You gasp and whimper as his cum shoots into you, the warm and strange feeling coursing through your abdomen, filling you completely. God, he’d cum inside of you before, but never this much, he had NEVER cum this hard before...

“G-gonna give me a baby aren’t you Bri? Oh yes baby, god—you’re gonna fuck me full until I’m pregnant baby, fuck!” If it happened, it happened, and I wasn’t going to complain, certainly not if it happened from THIS.

 He just lets out an undignified whimper, hips still rutting into you. He can feel his legs around to give out, so he falls back clumsily into the chair, taking you with him. He lets you rest your head back against his neck as he pulls your legs open, spreading you out. God, if anyone were to walk in right now, you’d be on full display. He groans at the thought, his cock twitching again inside you. He’d never thought about sharing you before—why was he in such a mood today? He sneaks a hand down, fingertips toying with your slick clit, humming when you whimper.

The whimper is weak and barely audible to you, your head lolling to rest on his shoulder, your mouth wide, cunt aching in the best possible way.

“G-god B-Bri I-I’m s-so sensitive...” You didn’t want him to stop necessarily, I mean, his cock was still hard and twitching inside of you... that had NEVER happened and he was.. he was so fucking hard and horny today, and you had no idea what was causing it, but you started to grind against his cock, riding him,.

He coos to you, shushing you softly.

“I know, baby girl. Do you want me to stop?” He presses a kiss to your shoulder gently, just using his thumb to rub up and down on your clit, breath hitching as it makes you squeeze around his cock. He knew he’d slowly be softening, though this was the longest he’d stayed hard in a long time.

You shake your head frantically, whimpering as his fingers continue rubbing you “N-no! G-god no Bri, w-wanna cum on your cock again, w-wanna keep y-you hard a-as long as I c-can!” You knew that he was usually so self-conscious about his ability to stay hard, so you just wanted to make him feel better about himself. You also just wanted to see how many times he could make you cum.

He shudders, nuzzling into your shoulder.

“You’re such a greedy girl.” He murmurs. He’s rubbing your clit quickly, but trying to keep his touch light. He wants to make you feel good, not hurt.

“You’re so good for me, Y/N, love. You’re such a good girl.” He moans, feeling you squirm and flutter around his cock. “You feel so good.”

Your cunt is clenching and quivering around his cock, his fingers softly grazing your clit, and thanks to your previous 2 orgasms, that’s all it takes for your third orgasm to wrack your body, sending you clenching hard around his cock, your hands clutching into the back of his head, your hips moving involuntarily on him.

“I-I l-love you so much Bri, o-oh fuck honey! Y-you’re so good to me!” This orgasm isn’t as intense as the first 2, but to be honest you weren’t sure anything could ever compare to those.

He moans, gasping for air as you flutter around his softening cock, squeezing some of his cum out of you. It drips dirty down his thighs and balls, and he curses.

“F-fuck, babygirl—I love you too, so much— Such a good girl, honey. There you go. It’s alright.” He rubs your stomach gently.

His words and actions are so soft and gentle, causing a small smile to pull at your features.

“Jesus Christ Bri, w-what’s gotten into you honey? That was insane…”

You giggle, turning your head so you can place a sloppy kiss to his stubbly cheek, hand running over the other side of his face. “Amazing and incredible... but insane.”

Brian blushes, leaning down to press a million little kisses over your skin.

“I’m sorry, honey. I... I don’t Know, really. We were just talking and it.... escalated.” He snorts at his own description of what had just happened.

“Are you alright? Let’s get you up and get you clean. I’m sorry I was so rough.”

You chuckle and shake your head, squeezing his thigh.

“I’m fine honey, god, I’m more than fine. I liked it, SO much.” You’re still trying to catch your breath, his hand on your stomach. The touch is making you think about the words you’d exchanged, the implications of what you’d just done.. the evidence of which was running out of your cunt.

“Bri... I meant what I said earlier..about you…” You clear your throat, a little embarrassed. “About you fucking a baby in me...”

 His breath catches, fingers splaying out over your stomach. His heart sinks a little, and he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“I... I wish I could give that to you.” He’s quiet, voice a little sad.

“I just don’t know that’s possible for me, anyone.” He hides his face into your neck, trying to apologize.

Your own heart sinks a little as well, not at the implications of his words, but at the fact that he felt so guilty about it, the fact that he might not be able to give you a baby.

“Hey, Bri, honey…” You turn around in the chair, his soft cock falling free, a combination of your cum flowing freely from your cunt now. Brushing your hand over his face, you trace your thumb under his eye where a single tear has fallen. “It’s okay.. I-I don’t need anything else but you… if a baby happens, that’s great, but if not, I’m perfectly content with just having and loving you.”

 He sniffles, nodding quickly, embarrassed that he was crying. He hugs you tight, arching up to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

“ know... I know, I just... I wish...” He swallows hard.

“I wish we could. I wish I were younger.” He murmurs. It’s all dreams and nonsense, he knows, but it doesn’t stop him from wishing.

You give him a gentle smile, leaning in to kiss him. “I don’t…” He gives me a look, eyebrows raised in disbelief. You laugh, kissing him a few hundred times.

“I’m serious Brian, we met right when we needed to.. if you’d met me 20 or so years ago we never would’ve worked, mainly because I was a baby...” You try to be funny, giggling at your own joke.

“And that would’ve been a little bit more intense in the media than us today, if you can believe that.”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes. “You know that’s not what I meant.” He pokes your side, shaking his head. He sighs, looking up at you.

“Maybe we wouldn’t have worked out. But maybe we would have. Maybe we would’ve been good. Maybe you would’ve... kept me good.” His eyes are a little watery, his insecurities showing through.

“Oh honey.” You wrap your arms around his head, pulling him close, allowing his head to rest on your neck.

“You are good Bri, yeah you’ve made some mistakes in your past, and you’ve done something’s that were less than okay…” He sniffles, making your arms tighten.

“But they made you who you are today, they made you the Brian that I love more than anyone else in the world.. without the mistakes you made, you wouldn’t have learned from them, and you probably wouldn’t be able to cherish and love me the way you do...”

He nods, listening to you for once, just holding you tightly. He was always... overly conscious of his mistakes. His past self and past behavior. He missed being younger, especially with you. He wanted to do so much more than he could with his old body. But then again, he’s sure his younger self would have done something unforgivable. He was stupid. He still was; last night had proved that, but he thought it was a little better.

“I love you…”

You pull him back enough to place a kiss to his forehead, threading your fingers through his hair.

“I love you too silly, so much.” His hands are running up and down your sides, his lips pressing into your neck. You felt so loved and safe, almost like everything that happened last night was just a dream, a bad dream, but only a dream. With Brian, you felt like a better person, which you guess was the best thing to say, because when you’re with someone you love, you’re supposed to feel like a better person… He brought out the best side of you possible, and you were beyond lucky and blessed to have him in your life, holding you in the kitchen of your London flat, the breakfast he’d made you turning cold. Breakfast that he’d fucked you  within an inch of your life next to.

“I just can’t believe you made me squirt in the kitchen Brian.. sounds like a song from fucking Aerosmith…” You chuckle brightly, kissing his nose.

Brian laughs loudly, his head thrown back against the chair.

“If Freddie’d had his way, it could’ve sounded like one of our songs. But even Roger veto’d some of the dirtier ones.” He sighs, stretching his legs a little.

“I’m actually quite proud of myself for the mess. But I’ll clean it up. Do you want to get into a bath?” He squeezes your hips, smiling up at you.

You moan at the thought of a bath, the wetness between your thighs starting to get a little nasty. “You should be very proud of yourself, maybe you can make me do that once a week from now on.”

You wriggle your eyebrows, smirking when he blushes before leaning forward and giving him a quick kiss, getting up off of his lap with shaky legs, you actually greatly resemble a baby deer.

“A bath sounds great by the way, I feel like a French whore at the moment, so some lavender bath salts would really do the trick.”

He can’t help but laugh at your unsteady gait, but quickly masks his smile when you give him a glare. He stands, walking over to put an arm around your waist and lead you up the stairs.

“Well, I’ll make you a lovely lavender bath, and while you’re doing that, I’ll clean everything up downstairs. Maybe I’ll make us some tea, too. How’s that sound?”

 You give him a pleasure filled smile, cupping his face before placing a sound kiss to his lips.

“It sounds like you’re making me the most spoiled and loved woman in the whole of London.” You giggle when he starts kissing your neck, your arms wrapping tightly around his neck as he dips you. “Brian! Your scruff is gonna give me beard burn.” You’re laughing hard, my heart lighter than its felt in years.

“Love, I hate to break the news to you, but I think you probably already have beard burn—everywhere.” He chuckles, kissing you once more before heading for the bathtub, busying himself with making you the nicest bath in the entire world. He had a plethora of different bath salts and bath bombs, etc, and he wanted to make everything perfect for you.

You sit on the counter, on a towel of course, watching Brian get the tub ready, feeling beyond happy and at ease. After a while he claps his hands together and helps me down, helping me into the tub.

“Godddddd, you always get these so perfect honey…” You sink into the water, allowing the smells of lavender and oranges to sooth you, the warmth of the water making your sore legs and pussy relax and feel 100x better.

“Please hurry your cleaning so you can come keep me company...” You pout at him, your eyes big and innocent. He laughs, and leans forward to give you a quick kiss, his hand threading through your hair. “I’ll try my best.”

He moves to clean himself up as well, watching you in the mirror, smiling widely when he sees your head drooping to the side. Shaking his head, he bends down beside you, bathing you while you sleep, your mouth open just a tad. Once he’s bathed you, he brushes a strand of hair from your forehead and grabs a bath pillow from the cabinet, for once incredibly excited that you had such an obsession with bath gadgets. Propping your head up, and once he’s satisfied that you wouldn’t drown, he stands, wincing a bit at the pain in his knees, before heading to the door. Brian spares you another look, smiling fondly… Sure, things were tough, it wasn’t going to be an easy go of things… but he didn’t care. Last night, the earth shattering pain he’d felt when you ran out, it only confirmed to him that he couldn’t live without you, and he knew you wouldn’t let him.

tags: @meddows-taylors @toomuchlove-willkillyou @brianmayoucease @leah-halliwell92 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @mariekuuuuuh @unofficialbillnye @stephydearestxo @goodoldfashioned-rogerboy @danamaleksworld @dereones98 @glasgowkisschelseasmile @awkwardangelshezza @bellamy1998 @psychosupernatural @warren-lauren @womanwithahotdogstand @oujiacallme @harrisunn @anotheronebitesthedeaks @stormtrprinstilettos @get-on-your-bikes-and-ride @amor-libre @marymaia00 @ellywritesfics @simonedk @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @sam-mercury-sixx @horrorsinwonderland @toomuchtellyneck @asgardianvamp21 @crazylittlethingcalledobsession @marvelstuck @softboydeacon @a-queen-on-her-throne @roger-bang-the-drum @frannyxc @mrsmazzellotaylor @reedusteinrambles @drowseoftaylor @doubledeaky @indieblair @freddiedearfriend @subbysharkbabe

[louistomlinsoncouk]

Interview: Louis Tomlinson Talks “Kill My Mind” & Debut Album

After experimenting with everything from EDM to acoustic ballads, Louis Tomlinson finally found his sound on “Kill My Mind.” The just-released single is a throwback to the fuzzy, indie-leaning pop/rock of the ’90s and early ’00s. Which is not a coincidence given that it was inspired by the bands Louis grew up listening to on UK radio. (Think Oasis and the Arctic Monkeys). The song also sets the tone for the superstar’s debut solo album, which will be similarly raw and organic.

I spoke with Louis about his gutsy new single on Friday (September 6) and he recapped his search for a sound that was authentic to him. The “Miss You” hitmaker then revealed that his debut album is finally finished and gave some insight into its tracklist. He also reminisced about his heartwarming “Two Of Us” video and fond memories of being in One Direction. Other topics of conversation included the “Kill My Mind” video, upcoming live shows and his next single. Find out more about the 27-year-old’s solo journey below.

It feels like you really found your sound with “Kill My Mind.”

I think it’s important for any artist to play around with different sounds and find a place in their industry. For me, it frustrates me now that I’ve got four or five singles that just feel different sonically. It’s important to me, and something I’m going to focus on moving forward, to have a real identity as an artist. With the album that is really, really important to me. I feel I found my home on “Kill My Mind,” definitely sonically and the way it makes you feel and how it sounds to you. Yes, it feels good.

Was it a matter of finding the right collaborator or producer?

Definitely. You need someone who is going to embrace your ideas and embrace you for who you are. I did quite a lot of different sessions with producers in America. Everyone has their own opinion of what they think you should be. With some people, you can go into the session and say, “This is who I am, let’s work with this.” Whereas in other sessions, I can sometimes feel producers trying to pull me certain ways. When I found Jamie Hartman, who I wrote quite a few songs with including “Kill My Mind,” I didn’t even have to explain too much about who I am or what I want. We were just on the same page straight away.

It definitely has more of an indie sound. There’s also something quite ’90s about it. Was that your intention?

Yes, I’m a massive fan of ’90s music. I always talk about when I grew up, pop Radio had the like of Amy Winehouse, Arctic Monkeys and Oasis. Now it’s a little bit more urban-leaning. I just went with what I grew up with. That’s where my influences lie.

I think that really comes through on the song. It’s a bit fuzzier and more organic than what you heard on radio right now.

That’s a big compliment. I appreciate that, thank you.

As you said before, you now have maybe five songs that all sound very different. Will you go back to those songs and tweak them?

Well, there are some songs like “Two of Us,” for example. That is just a really simple, organic ballad that fits in line with what I want to do. There are songs like “Back To You” with Bebe Rexha that I absolutely love but, sonically, even just melodically, it’s so set on what it is. Whereas the Steve Aoki song, I have actually reworked to try to fit more in line with “Kill My Mind.” It has been stripped back and that worked straight away actually. I think it’s kind of song dependent really.

I can’t wait to hear the new version.

It’s such an anthemic melody. Anyway, it leads to that guitar-driven stuff. It works pretty well actually.

How far along are you with an album or an EP?

I’m done! I’m finally finished recording the album thank fuck. That took fucking ages. I’ve probably got another two or three more singles after “Kill My Mind.” So the album’s probably going to be out early next year. I’ll be relieved the day the album is out, I can’t wait for that day.

It must be so exciting to have it in the can.

Oh, definitely. It’s been two or three years in the making and when I was in One Direction, we were literally putting out an album once a year. It does feel like a long time for me but I’ll feel really proud when I get it out. I’ve been quite meticulous with it. I’m really excited to hear the feedback.

Who else have you worked with apart from Jamie Hartman?

Let me think about this, who else have I worked with? There’s a guy called Sean Douglas, who actually also wrote “Kill My Mind” and wrote with him on a couple of tracks. I’ve probably done sessions with close to 75 different producers. I think what I’ve realized and learned during the process is that finding the right writing and creative partners, who are all on the same page, is priceless. I have also worked with Wayne Hector, Steve Robson, Julian Bunetta also. There are probably four or five songs that I wrote with Jamie, so they really will be a big chunk of the album.

Will those earlier singles be on the album?

They will be, definitely. I’d say, maybe 30 percent of the songs on the album were written longer than a year ago. There are some songs that are so special to me and I think they mean a lot to the fans. Some of those songs also represent that time in my life in whatever way. So I couldn’t necessarily start fresh, but once I’d written “Kill My Mind,” I kind of found my sound. Once I’d written “Kill My Mind,” there were three or four songs that followed on from that, and it was a little bit more straight forward because we knew exactly what we were aiming for.

I can imagine “Kill My Mind” sounding great live. Have you thought about a live show or tour?

I’m lucky enough to be playing a show in Madrid. They’re doing a Coca Cola festival and I’m headlining one of the days. I’m really excited about that. I’m doing 10 songs. Now, to this point, I’ve only done three or four songs on the odd radio show. So I’m really, really excited to get out and get a reaction and feed from the audience. I know, “Kill My Mind,” is naturally going to make the transition to a live show and I’m pretty confident it’s going to be fun. So I’m really excited about that moment.

How different is it standing on stage by yourself compared to being in a band with other guys?

I’ve done the odd performance. I feel like I’m growing into that. It won’t be so new to me, but doing 10 songs and creating a show about me on the stage, it’s a little bit, I would say, daunting. There’s naturally more pressure. That’s another thing I’ve realized from working on my own as a solo artist. I have to stay across absolutely, everything and all of a sudden, I’m so meticulous about every single detail. When I think about the tour, it’s going to be an even more rewarding situation for me because when we put it on, I will literally have painted this picture from the ground up, so it’s something that really excites me.

You mentioned “Two of Us” a little bit earlier. I love that song.

Thank you.

The video was so touching. Who came up with that idea? That old guy is a legend.

Oh my God, honestly. Of all the things that I’ve done in the last 12 months, that is definitely one of the best things. It was an absolutely amazing experience. I think it was a conversation between me and the record label. We talked about different, interesting ideas that we could do for the video. Everyone should watch that video and be inspired. Not from my story, but from Richard’s story. That old guy recently lost his wife and it was raw to him, but I’ve never met anyone with such an amazing view on life. Although he wasn’t dealt the best hand, he lived so happy and so fun, and he was up for anything literally. He was a proper, proper, brave old guy and I was really taken aback by him as a person.

Has he inspired the way you approach your own life?

Definitely. I think that I have the luxury of now being able to see that the glass is half full as opposed to half empty. Richard really taught me that. There are some things that we did together, which he had obviously never done before. It takes a brave man of that age to do new things. Yes, we can all learn something from that, definitely.

Have you thought about what you’re going to to do for the “Kill My Mind” video?

I’ve already filmed the “Kill My Mind” video, and the next video actually. I’m really excited about this. It’s with Charlie Lightening who directed a documentary about Liam Gallagher. I’m really excited about that. Visually, he’s really cool. Conceptually, for “Kill My Mind,” I wanted it to be like all the Oasis videos I love. I wanted it to be more about the performance. Not focusing too much on a narrative and just being lit really well. I think we pulled it off. I’m excited about that one.

I can’t wait to see it. Do you know when it’s coming out?

Yes. What day is today? Friday. I think it’s due Monday or Tuesday. I think we’ve got some last few notes to do before signing off. So, yes, early next week.

Do you enjoy the visual element?

Yes. I’ve always been quite inclined to get involved in conversations about that. To be honest, sometimes One Direction was so manic, there literally wasn’t time to be across as many things as I am now. It’s really, really rewarding. It’s the same buzz that I get off writing songs. Like when we sat and we spoke about the idea for the Richard video, “Two of Us.” Then you actually watch the final piece, you’re like, “Wow, we’ve actually created something really interesting.” To a certain degree, important, that’s proper refreshing. Definitely.

You mentioned some of the One Direction videos. Has enough time passed that you can look back on it and feel nostalgic or does it still feel recent to you?

It still feels recent but there have been numerous times where I find myself kind of reminiscing about old videos on YouTube, interviews, or performances, whatever it is. There’s still that side of the nostalgia where you miss it as well. It’s like looking back on your school days or your university days. It gives you that funny feeling in your stomach where you miss it, definitely.

You said you filmed a video for the single after “Kill My Mind,” how long will we have to wait for it?

Because I have other songs that don’t really reflect the overall identity and sound of the album, I just want to get as much music out as I can before the album comes out. I’m pretty sure the plan is to release a song every month or every six weeks, so there’s more music out there. I want to really drive home who I’m trying to be as an artist. I think the next single’s coming middle of October, something like that.

Thanks so much for your time. Good luck with the album.

Thank you. I appreciate that.